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-The Project Gutenberg eBook of History of scientific ideas, by
-William Whewell
-
-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: History of scientific ideas
-
-Author: William Whewell
-
-Release Date: October 4, 2022 [eBook #69093]
-
-Language: English
-
-Produced by: Ed Brandon from materials generously provided by the
- Internet Archive
-
-*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK HISTORY OF SCIENTIFIC
-IDEAS ***
-
-
-HISTORY
-OF
-SCIENTIFIC IDEAS.
-
-
-
-VOLUME I.
-
-
-
-
-Cambridge;
-PRINTED BY C. J. CLAY, M.A.
-AT THE UNIVERSITY PRESS.
-
-
-
-HISTORY
-OF
-SCIENTIFIC IDEAS.
-
-BY WILLIAM WHEWELL, D.D.,
-MASTER OF TRINITY COLLEGE, CAMBRIDGE, AND
-CORRESPONDING MEMBER OF THE INSTITUTE OF FRANCE.
-
-
-
-BEING THE FIRST PART OF THE PHILOSOPHY
-OF THE INDUCTIVE SCIENCES.
-
-
-
-_THE THIRD EDITION._
-
-IN TWO VOLUMES.
-
-
-ΛΑΜΠΑΔIΑ ΕΧΟΝΤΕΣ ΔIΑΔΩΣΟΥΣIΝ ΑΛΛΗΛΟIΣ
-
-
-VOLUME I.
-
-
-
-LONDON:
-JOHN W. PARKER AND SON, WEST STRAND.
-1858.
-
-
-
-{{v}}
-PREFACE TO THIS EDITION.
-
-
-
-THE Chapters now offered to the Reader were formerly
-published as a portion of _The Philosophy of the Inductive
-Sciences, founded upon their History_: but the nature and
-subject of these Chapters are more exactly described by the
-present title, _The History of Scientific Ideas_. For this
-part of the work is mainly historical, and was, in fact,
-collected from the body of scientific literature, at the
-same time that the _History of the Inductive Sciences_ was
-so collected. The present work contains the history of
-Science so far as it depends on _Ideas_; the former work
-contains the same history so far as it is derived from
-_Observation_. The leading features in _that_ were Theories
-inferred from Facts; the leading features of _this_ are
-Discussions of Theories tending to make them consistent with
-the conditions of human thought.
-
-The Ideas of which the History is here given are mainly the
-following:
-_Space_, _Time_, _Number_, _Motion_, _Cause_, _Force_,
-_Matter_, _Medium_, _Intensity_, _Scale_, _Polarity_,
-_Element_, _Affinity_, _Substance_, _Atom_, _Symmetry_,
-_Likeness_, _Natural Classes_, _Species_, _Life_,
-_Function_, _Vital Forces_, _Final_ {vi} _Causes_,
-_Historical Causation_, _Catastrophe and Uniformity_, _First
-Cause_.
-
-The controversies to which the exact fixation of these Ideas
-and their properties have given occasion form a large and
-essential part of the History of Science: but they also form
-an important part of the Philosophy of Science, for no
-Philosophy of Science can be complete which does not solve
-the difficulties, antitheses, and paradoxes on which such
-controversies have turned. I have given a survey of such
-controversies, generally carried from their earliest origin
-to their latest aspect; and have stated what appeared to me
-the best solution of each problem. This has necessarily
-involved me in much thorny metaphysics; but such metaphysics
-is a necessary part of the progress of Science. The human
-mind deriving its knowledge of Truth from the observation of
-nature, cannot evade the task of determining at every step
-how Truth is consistent with itself. This is the Metaphysics
-of Progressive Knowledge, and this is the matter of this
-present History.
-
-Of the remaining part of what was formerly published as the
-Philosophy of the Inductive Sciences, an additional part,
-described in the Introduction to the present work, will
-shortly be published.
-
-TRINITY LODGE,
-_May_ 24, 1858.
-
-
-ERRATUM, p. 157, l. 11 from top, _for_ sciences
-_read_ science.
-
-
-
-
-CONTENTS
-OF
-THE FIRST VOLUME.
-
-
- PAGE
-PREFACE v
-
-PART I.
-OF IDEAS.
-
-
-INTRODUCTION 3
-
-BOOK I.
-
-OF IDEAS IN GENERAL.
-
-CHAP. I. OF THE FUNDAMENTAL ANTITHESIS OF PHILOSOPHY 23
-
-_Sect._ 1. _Thoughts and Things_ --
- 2. _Necessary and Experiential Truths_ 25
- 3. _Deduction and Induction_ 27
- 4. _Theories and Facts_ 29
- 5. _Ideas and Sensations_ 30
- 6. _Reflexion and Sensation_ 33
- 7. _Subjective and Objective_ 35
- 8. _Matter and Form_ 38
- 9. _Man the Interpreter of Nature_ 41
- 10. _The Fundamental Antithesis is inseparable_ 43
- 11. _Successive Generalization_ 49
-{viii}
-
-CHAP. II. OF TECHNICAL TERMS 54
-
- _Art._ 1. Examples.
- 2. Use of Terms.
-
-CHAP. III. OF NECESSARY TRUTHS 57
-
- _Art._ 1. The two Elements of Knowledge,
- 2. Shown by necessary Truths.
- 3. Examples of necessary Truths in numbers.
- 4. The opposite cannot be distinctly conceived.
- 5. Other Examples.
- 6. Universal Truths.
-
-CHAP. IV. OF EXPERIENCE 65
-
- _Art._ 1. Experience cannot prove necessary Truths,
- 2. Except when aided by Ideas.
-
-CHAP. V. OF THE GROUNDS OF NECESSARY TRUTHS 69
-
- _Art._ 1. These Grounds are Fundamental Ideas.
- 2. These are to be reviewed.
- 3. Definitions and Axioms.
- 4. Syllogism,
- 5. Produces no new Truths.
- 6. Axioms needed.
- 7. Axioms depend on Ideas:
- 8. So do Definitions.
- 9. Idea not completely expressed.
-
-CHAP. VI. THE FUNDAMENTAL IDEAS ARE NOT DERIVED FROM EXPERIENCE 76
-
- _Art._ 1. No connexion observed.
- 2. Faculties implied in observation.
- 3. We are to examine our Faculties.
-
-CHAP. VII. OF THE PHILOSOPHY OF THE SCIENCES 81
-
- Sciences arranged according to Ideas.
-{ix}
-
-BOOK II.
-
-THE PHILOSOPHY OF THE PURE SCIENCES.
-
-CHAP. I. OF THE PURE SCIENCES 88
-
- _Art._ 1. Geometry, Arithmetic, Algebra,
- 2. Are not Inductive Sciences:
- 3. Are Mathematical Sciences.
- 4. Mixed Mathematics.
- 5. Space, Time, Number.
-
-CHAP. II. OF THE IDEA OF SPACE 91
-
- _Art._ 1. Space is an Idea,
- 2. Not derived from Experience,
- 3. As Geometrical Truth shows.
- 4. Space is a Form of Experience.
- 5. The phrase not essential.
-
-CHAP. III. OF SOME PECULIARITIES OF THE IDEA OF SPACE 95
-
- _Art._ 1. Space is not an Abstract Notion.
- 2. Space is infinite.
- 3. Space is real.
- 4. Space is a Form of Intuition.
- 5. Figure.
- 6. Three Dimensions.
-
-CHAP. IV. OF THE DEFINITIONS AND AXIOMS WHICH RELATE TO SPACE 98
-
- _Art._ 1. Geometry.
- 2. Definitions.
- 3. Axioms.
- 4. Not Hypotheses.
- 5. Axioms necessary.
- 6. Straight Lines.
- 7. Planes.
- 8. Elementary Geometry.
-
-CHAP. V. OF SOME OBJECTIONS WHICH HAVE BEEN MADE TO THE
- DOCTRINES STATED IN THE PREVIOUS CHAPTER 107
-
- _Art._ 1. How is Geometry hypothetical?
- 2. What was Stewart's view?
-{x}
- 3. 'Legitimate filiations' of Definitions.
- 4. Is a Definition a complete explanation?
- 5. Are some Axioms Definitions?
- 6. Axiom concerning Circles.
- 7. Can Axioms become truisms?
- 8. Use of such.
-
-CHAP. VI. OF THE PERCEPTION OF SPACE 117
-
- _Art._ 1. Which Senses apprehend Space?
- 2. Perception of solid figure.
- 3. Is an interpretation.
- 4. May be analysed.
- 5. Outline.
- 6. Reversed convexity.
- 7. Do we perceive Space by Touch?
- 8. Brown's Opinion.
- 9. The Muscular Sense.
- 10. Bell's Opinion.
- 11. Perception includes Activity.
- 12. Perception of the Skyey Dome.
- 13. Reid's Idomenians.
- 14. Motion of the Eye.
- 15. Searching Motion.
- 16. Sensible Spot.
- 17. Expressions implying Motion.
-
-CHAP. VII. OF THE IDEA OF TIME 131
-
- _Art._ 1. Time an Idea not derived from Experience.
- 2. Time is a Form of Experience.
- 3. Number.
- 4. Is Time derived from Motion?
-
-CHAP. VIII. OF SOME PECULIARITIES IN THE IDEA OF TIME 134
-
- _Art._ 1. Time is not an Abstract Notion.
- 2. Time is infinite.
- 3. Time is a Form of Intuition.
- 4. Time is of one Dimension,
- 5. And no more.
- 6. Rhythm.
- 7. Alternation.
- 8. Arithmetic.
-{xi}
-
-CHAP. IX. OF THE AXIOMS WHICH RELATE TO NUMBER 138
-
- _Art._ 1. Grounds of Arithmetic.
- 2. Intuition.
- 3. Arithmetical Axioms,
- 4. Are Conditions of Numerical Reasoning
- 5. In all Arithmetical Operations.
- 6. Higher Numbers.
-
-CHAP. X. OF THE PERCEPTION OF TIME AND NUMBER 141
-
- _Art._ 1. Memory.
- 2. Sense of Successiveness
- 3. Implies Activity.
- 4. Number also does so.
- 5. And apprehension of Rhythm.
- Note to Chapter X. 145
-
-CHAP. XI. OF MATHEMATICAL REASONING 147
-
- _Art._ 1. Discursive Reasoning.
- 2. Technical Terms of Reasoning.
- 3. Geometrical Analysis and Synthesis.
-
-CHAP. XII. OF THE FOUNDATIONS OF THE HIGHER MATHEMATICS 151
-
- _Art._ 1. The Idea of a Limit.
- 2. The use of General Symbols.
- 3. Connexion of Symbols and Analysis.
-
-CHAP. XIII. THE DOCTRINE OF MOTION 156
-
-_Art._ 1. Pure Mechanism.
- 2. Formal Astronomy.
-
-CHAP. XIV. OF THE APPLICATION OF MATHEMATICS TO THE INDUCTIVE
- SCIENCES 159
-
- _Art._ 1. The Ideas of Space and Number are clear from
- the first.
- 2. Their application in Astronomy.
- 3. Conic Sections, &c.
- 4. Arabian Numerals.
- 5. Newton's Lemmas.
- 6. Tides.
- 7. Mechanics.
- 8. Optics.
- 9. Conclusion.
-{xii}
-
-BOOK III.
-
-THE PHILOSOPHY OF THE MECHANICAL SCIENCES.
-
-CHAP. I. OF THE MECHANICAL SCIENCES 171
-
-CHAP. II. OF THE IDEA OF CAUSE 173
-
- _Art._ 1. Not derived from Observation,
- 2. As appears by its use.
- 3. Cause cannot be observed.
- 4. Is Cause only constant succession?
- 5. Other reasons.
-
-CHAP. III. MODERN OPINIONS RESPECTING THE IDEA OF CAUSE 178
-
- _Art._ 1. Hume's Doctrine.
- 2. Stewart and Brown.
- 3. Kant.
- 4. Relation of Kant and Brown.
- 5. Axioms flow from the Idea.
- 6. The Idea implies activity in the Mind.
-
-CHAP. IV. OF THE AXIOMS WHICH RELATE TO THE IDEA OF CAUSE 184
-
- _Art._ 1. Causes are Abstract Conceptions.
- 2. First Axiom.
- 3. Second Axiom.
- 4. Limitation of the Second Axiom.
- 5. Third Axiom.
- 6. Extent of the Third Axiom.
-
-CHAP. V. OF THE ORIGIN OF OUR CONCEPTIONS OF FORCE AND MATTER 205
-
- _Art._ 1. Force.
- 2. Matter.
- 3. Solidity.
- 4. Inertia.
- 5. Application.
-{xiii}
-
-CHAP. VI. OF THE ESTABLISHMENT OF THE PRINCIPLES OF STATICS 212
-
- _Art._ 1. Object of the Chapter.
- 2. Statics and Dynamics.
- 3. Equilibrium.
- 4. Measure of Statical Forces.
- 5. The Center of Gravity.
- 6. Oblique Forces.
- 7. Force acts at any point of its Direction.
- 8. The Parallelogram of Forces
- 9. Is a necessary Truth.
- 10. Center of Gravity descends.
- 11. Stevinus's Proof.
- 12. Principle of Virtual Velocities.
- 13. Fluids press equally.
- 14. Foundation of this Axiom.
-
-CHAP. VII. OF THE ESTABLISHMENT OF THE PRINCIPLES OF DYNAMICS 235
-
- _Art._ 1. History.
- 2. The First Law of Motion.
- 3. Gravity is a Uniform Force.
- 4. The Second Law of Motion.
- 5. The Third Law of Motion.
- 6. Action and Reaction in Moving Bodies.
- 7. D'Alembert's Principle.
- 8. Connexion of Statics and Dynamics.
- 9. Mechanical Principles grow more evident.
- 10. Controversy of the Measure of Force.
-
-CHAP. VIII. OF THE PARADOX OF UNIVERSAL PROPOSITIONS
- OBTAINED FROM EXPERIENCE 263
-
- _Art._ 1. Experience cannot establish necessary Truths;
- 2. But can interpret Axioms.
- 3. Gives us the Matter of Truths.
- 4. Exemplifies Truths.
- 5. Cannot shake Axioms.
- 6. Is this applicable in other cases?
-
-CHAP. IX. OF THE ESTABLISHMENT OF THE LAW OF UNIVERSAL
- GRAVITATION 272
-
- _Art._ 1. General course of the History.
-{xiv}
- 2. Particulars as to the Law.
- 3. As to the Gravity of Matter.
- 4. Universality of the Law.
- 5. Is Gravity an essential quality?
- 6. Newton's Rule of Philosophizing.
- 7. Hypotheses respecting Gravity.
- 8. Do Bodies act at a distance?
-
-CHAP. X. OF THE GENERAL DIFFUSION OF CLEAR MECHANICAL IDEAS 279
-
- _Art._ 1. Nature of the Process
- 2. Among the Ancients.
- 3. Kepler, &c.
- 4. Lord Monboddo, &c.
- 5. Schelling, &c.
- 6. Common usage.
- 7. Effect of Phrases.
- 8. Contempt of Predecessors.
- 9. Less detail hereafter.
- 10. Mechanico-Chemical Sciences.
- 11. Secondary Mechanical Sciences.
-
-
-BOOK IV.
-
-THE PHILOSOPHY OF THE SECONDARY MECHANICAL SCIENCES.
-
-CHAP. I. OF THE IDEA OF A MEDIUM AS COMMONLY EMPLOYED 293
-
- _Art._ 1. Of Primary and Secondary Qualities.
- 2. The Idea of Externality.
- 3. Sensation by a Medium.
- 4. Process of Perception of Secondary Qualities.
-
-CHAP. II. ON PECULIARITIES IN THE PERCEPTIONS OF THE
- DIFFERENT SENSES 302
-
- _Art._ 1. Difference of Senses.
-
-_Sect._ I. _Prerogatives of Sight._
- _Art._ 2. Position.
- 3. Distance.
-{xv}
-_Sect._ II. _Prerogatives of Hearing._
- _Art._ 4. Musical Intervals.
- 5. Chords.
- 6. Rhythm.
-
-_Sect._ III. _The Paradoxes of Vision._
- _Art._ 7. First Paradox.
- 8. Second Paradox.
- 9. The same for near Objects.
- 10. Objections answered.
-
-_Sect._ IV. _The Perception of Visible Figures._
- _Art._ 11. Brown's Opinion.
-
-CHAP. III. SUCCESSIVE ATTEMPTS AT THE SCIENTIFIC
- APPLICATION OF THE IDEA OF A MEDIUM 322
-
- _Art._ 1. Introduction.
- 2. Sound.
- 3. Light.
- 4. Heat.
-
-CHAP. IV. OF THE MEASURE OF SECONDARY QUALITIES 333
-
-_Sect._ I. _Scales of Qualities in General._
- _Art._ 1. Intensity.
- 2. Quantity and Quality.
-
-_Sect._ II. _The Musical Scale._
- _Art._ 3. Musical Relations.
- 4. Musical Standard.
-
-_Sect._ III. _Scales of Colour._
- _Art._ 5. The Prismatic Scale.
- 6. Newton's Scale.
- 7. Scales of Impure Colours.
- 8. Chromatometer.
-
-_Sect._ IV. _Scales of Light._
- _Art._ 9. Photometer.
- 10. Cyanometer.
-
-_Sect._ V. _Scales of Heat._
- _Art._ 11. Thermometers.
- 12. Their progress.
- 13. Fixed Points.
- 14. Concordance of Thermometers.
- 15. Natural Measure.
- 16. Law of Cooling.
-{xvi}
- 17. Theory of Exchanges.
- 18. Air Thermometer.
- 19. Theory of Heat.
- 20. Other Instruments.
-
-_Sect._ VI. _Scales of other Quantities._
- _Art._ 21. Tastes and Smells.
- 22. Quality of Sounds.
- 23. Articulate Sounds.
- 24. Transition.
-
-
-BOOK V.
-
-OF THE PHILOSOPHY OF THE MECHANICO-CHEMICAL SCIENCES.
-
-CHAP. I. ATTEMPTS AT THE SCIENTIFIC APPLICATION OF THE IDEA
- OF POLARITY 359
-
- _Art._ 1. Introduction of the Idea.
- 2. Magnetism.
- 3. Electricity.
- 4. Voltaic Electricity.
- 5. Light.
- 6. Crystallization.
- 7. Chemical Affinity.
- 8. General Remarks.
- 9. Like _repels_ like.
-
-CHAP. II. OF THE CONNEXION OF POLARITIES 371
-
- _Art._ 1. Different Polar Phenomena from one Cause.
- 2. Connexion of Magnetic and Electric Polarity.
- 3. Ampère's Theory.
- 4. Faraday's views.
- 5. Connexion of Electrical and Chemical Polarity.
- 6. Davy's and Faraday's views
- 7. Depend upon Ideas as well as Experiments.
- 8. Faraday's Anticipations.
- 9. Connexion of Chemical and Crystalline Polarities.
- 10. Connexion of Crystalline and Optical Polarities.
- 11. Connexion of Polarities in general.
- 12. Schelling's Speculations.
- 13. Hegel's vague notions.
- 14. Ideas must guide Experiment.
-
-
-
-
-{{1}}
-THE
-PHILOSOPHY
-OF THE
-INDUCTIVE SCIENCES.
-
-
-
-INTRODUCTION.
-
-{{3}}
-INTRODUCTION.
-
-
-THE PHILOSOPHY OF SCIENCE, if the phrase were to be
-understood in the comprehensive sense which most naturally
-offers itself to our thoughts, would imply nothing less than
-a complete insight into the essence and conditions of all
-real knowledge, and an exposition of the best methods for
-the discovery of new truths. We must narrow and lower this
-conception, in order to mould it into a form in which we may
-make it the immediate object of our labours with a good hope
-of success; yet still it may be a rational and useful
-undertaking, to endeavour to make some advance towards such
-a Philosophy, even according to the most ample conception of
-it which we can form. The present work has been written with
-a view of contributing, in some measure, however small it
-may be, towards such an undertaking.
-
-But in this, as in every attempt to advance beyond the
-position which we at present occupy, our hope of success
-must depend mainly upon our being able to profit, to the
-fullest extent, by the progress already made. We may best
-hope to understand the nature and conditions of real
-knowledge, by studying the nature and conditions of the most
-certain and stable portions of knowledge which we already
-possess: and we are most likely to learn the best methods of
-discovering truth, by examining how truths, now universally
-recognized, have really been discovered. Now there do exist
-among us doctrines of solid and acknowledged certainty, and
-truths of which the discovery has been received with
-universal applause. These constitute what we commonly term
-_Sciences_; and of these bodies of exact and enduring
-knowledge, we have within our {4} reach so large and varied
-a collection, that we may examine them, and the history of
-their formation, with a good prospect of deriving from the
-study such instruction as we seek. We may best hope to make
-some progress towards the Philosophy of Science, by
-employing ourselves upon THE PHILOSOPHY OF THE SCIENCES.
-
-The _Sciences_ to which the name is most commonly and
-unhesitatingly given, are those which are concerned about
-the material world; whether they deal with the celestial
-bodies, as the sun and stars, or the earth and its products,
-or the elements; whether they consider the differences which
-prevail among such objects, or their origin, or their mutual
-operation. And in all these Sciences it is familiarly
-understood and assumed, that their doctrines are obtained by
-a common process of collecting general truths from
-particular observed facts, which process is termed
-_Induction_. It is further assumed that both in these and in
-other provinces of knowledge, so long as this process is
-duly and legitimately performed, the results will be real
-substantial truth. And although this process, with the
-conditions under which it is legitimate, and the general
-laws of the formation of Sciences, will hereafter be
-subjects of discussion in this work, I shall at present so
-far adopt the assumption of which I speak, as to give to the
-Sciences from which our lessons are to be collected the name
-of _Inductive Sciences_. And thus it is that I am led to
-designate my work as THE PHILOSOPHY OF THE INDUCTIVE
-SCIENCES.
-
-The views respecting the nature and progress of knowledge,
-towards which we shall be directed by such a course of
-inquiry as I have pointed out, though derived from those
-portions of human knowledge which are more peculiarly and
-technically termed _Sciences_, will by no means be confined,
-in their bearing, to the domain of such Sciences as deal
-with the material world, nor even to the whole range of
-Sciences now existing. On the contrary, we shall be led to
-believe that the nature of truth is in all subjects the
-same, and that its discovery involves, in all cases, the
-like {5} conditions. On one subject of human speculation
-after another, man's knowledge assumes that exact and
-substantial character which leads us to term it _Science_;
-and in all these cases, whether inert matter or living
-bodies, whether permanent relations or successive
-occurrences, be the subject of our attention, we can point
-out certain universal characters which belong to truth,
-certain general laws which have regulated its progress among
-men. And we naturally expect that, even when we extend our
-range of speculation wider still, when we contemplate the
-world within us as well as the world without us, when we
-consider the thoughts and actions of men as well as the
-motions and operations of unintelligent bodies, we shall
-still find some general analogies which belong to the
-essence of truth, and run through the whole intellectual
-universe. Hence we have reason to trust that a just
-Philosophy of the Sciences may throw light upon the nature
-and extent of our knowledge in every department of human
-speculation. By considering what is the real import of our
-acquisitions, where they are certain and definite, we may
-learn something respecting the difference between true
-knowledge and its precarious or illusory semblances; by
-examining the steps by which such acquisitions have been
-made, we may discover the conditions under which truth is to
-be obtained; by tracing the boundary-line between our
-knowledge and our ignorance, we may ascertain in some
-measure the extent of the powers of man's understanding.
-
-But it may be said, in such a design there is nothing new;
-these are objects at which inquiring men have often before
-aimed. To determine the difference between real and
-imaginary knowledge, the conditions under which we arrive at
-truth, the range of the powers of the human mind, has been a
-favourite employment of speculative men from the earliest to
-the most recent times. To inquire into the original,
-certainty, and compass of man's knowledge, the limits of his
-capacity, the strength and weakness of his reason, has been
-the professed purpose of many of the most conspicuous and
-valued labours of the philosophers of {6} all periods up to
-our own day. It may appear, therefore, that there is little
-necessity to add one more to these numerous essays; and
-little hope that any new attempt will make any very
-important addition to the stores of thought upon such
-questions, which have been accumulated by the profoundest
-and acutest thinkers of all ages.
-
-To this I reply, that without at all disparaging the value
-or importance of the labours of those who have previously
-written respecting the foundations and conditions of human
-knowledge, it may still be possible to add something to what
-they have done. The writings of all great philosophers, up
-to our own time, form a series which is not yet terminated.
-The books and systems of philosophy which have, each in its
-own time, won the admiration of men, and exercised a
-powerful influence upon their thoughts, have had each its
-own part and functions in the intellectual history of the
-world; and other labours which shall succeed these may also
-have their proper office and useful effect. We may not be
-able to do much, and yet still it may be in our power to
-effect something. Perhaps the very advances made by former
-inquirers may have made it possible for us, at present, to
-advance still further. In the discovery of truth, in the
-development of man's mental powers and privileges, each
-generation has its assigned part; and it is for us to
-endeavour to perform our portion of this perpetual task of
-our species. Although the terms which describe our
-undertaking may be the same which have often been employed
-by previous writers to express their purpose, yet our
-position is different from theirs, and thus the result may
-be different too. We have, as they had, to run our
-appropriate course of speculation with the exertion of our
-best powers; but our course lies in a more advanced part of
-the great line along which Philosophy travels from age to
-age. However familiar and old, therefore, be the design of
-such a work as this, the execution may have, and if it be
-performed in a manner suitable to the time, will have,
-something that is new and not unimportant. {7}
-
-Indeed, it appears to be absolutely necessary, in order to
-check the prevalence of grave and pernicious errour, that
-the doctrines which are taught concerning the foundations of
-human knowledge and the powers of the human mind, should be
-from time to time revised and corrected or extended.
-Erroneous and partial views are promulgated and accepted;
-one portion of the truth is insisted upon to the undue
-exclusion of another; or principles true in themselves are
-exaggerated till they produce on men's minds the effect of
-falsehood. When evils of this kind have grown to a serious
-height, a _Reform_ is requisite. The faults of the existing
-systems must be remedied by correcting what is wrong, and
-supplying what is wanting. In such cases, all the merits and
-excellencies of the labours of the preceding times do not
-supersede the necessity of putting forth new views suited to
-the emergency which has arrived. The new form which errour
-has assumed makes it proper to endeavour to give a new and
-corresponding form to truth. Thus the mere progress of time,
-and the natural growth of opinion from one stage to another,
-leads to the production of new systems and forms of
-philosophy. It will be found, I think, that some of the
-doctrines now most widely prevalent respecting the
-foundations and nature of truth are of such a kind that a
-Reform is needed. The present age seems, by many
-indications, to be called upon to seek a sounder Philosophy
-of Knowledge than is now current among us. To contribute
-towards such a Philosophy is the object of the present work.
-The work is, therefore, like all works which take into
-account the most recent forms of speculative doctrine,
-invested with a certain degree of novelty in its aspect and
-import, by the mere time and circumstances of its
-appearance.
-
-But, moreover, we can point out a very important peculiarity
-by which this work is, in its design, distinguished from
-preceding essays on like subjects; and this difference
-appears to be of such a kind as may well entitle us to
-expect some substantial addition to our knowledge as the
-result of our labours. The peculiarity {8} of which I speak
-has already been announced;--it is this: that we purpose to
-collect our doctrines concerning the nature of knowledge,
-and the best mode of acquiring it, from a contemplation of
-the Structure and History of those Sciences (the Material
-Sciences), which are universally recognized as the clearest
-and surest examples of knowledge and of discovery. It is by
-surveying and studying the whole mass of such Sciences, and
-the various steps of their progress, that we now hope to
-approach to the true Philosophy of Science.
-
-Now this, I venture to say, is a new method of pursuing the
-philosophy of human knowledge. Those who have hitherto
-endeavoured to explain the nature of knowledge, and the
-process of discovery, have, it is true, often illustrated
-their views by adducing special examples of truths which
-they conceived to be established, and by referring to the
-mode of their establishment. But these examples have, for
-the most part, been taken at random, not selected according
-to any principle or system. Often they have involved
-doctrines so precarious or so vague that they confused
-rather than elucidated the subject; and instead of a single
-difficulty,--What is the nature of Knowledge? these attempts
-at illustration introduced two,--What was the true analysis
-of the Doctrines thus adduced? and,--Whether they might
-safely be taken as types of real Knowledge?
-
-This has usually been the case when there have been adduced,
-as standard examples of the formation of human knowledge,
-doctrines belonging to supposed sciences other than the
-material sciences; doctrines, for example, of Political
-Economy, or Philology, or Morals, or the Philosophy of the
-Fine Arts. I am very far from thinking that, in regard to
-such subjects, there are no important truths hitherto
-established: but it would seem that those truths which have
-been obtained in these provinces of knowledge, have not yet
-been fixed by means of distinct and permanent phraseology,
-and sanctioned by universal reception, and formed into a
-connected system, and traced through the steps of their
-gradual discovery and establishment, so as to make {9} them
-instructive examples of the nature and progress of truth in
-general. Hereafter we trust to be able to show that the
-progress of moral, and political, and philological, and
-other knowledge, is governed by the same laws as that of
-physical science. But since, at present, the former class of
-subjects are full of controversy, doubt, and obscurity,
-while the latter consist of undisputed truths clearly
-understood and expressed, it may be considered a wise
-procedure to make the latter class of doctrines the basis of
-our speculations. And on the having taken this course, is,
-in a great measure, my hope founded, of obtaining valuable
-truths which have escaped preceding inquirers.
-
-But it may be said that many preceding writers on the nature
-and progress of knowledge have taken their examples
-abundantly from the Physical Sciences. It would be easy to
-point out admirable works, which have appeared during the
-present and former generations, in which instances of
-discovery, borrowed from the Physical Sciences, are
-introduced in a manner most happily instructive. And to the
-works in which this has been done, I gladly give my most
-cordial admiration. But at the same time I may venture to
-remark that there still remains a difference between my
-design and theirs: and that I use the Physical Sciences as
-exemplifications of the general progress of knowledge in a
-manner very materially different from the course which is
-followed in works such as are now referred to. For the
-conclusions stated in the present work, respecting knowledge
-and discovery, are drawn from _a connected and systematic
-survey of the whole range of Physical Science and its
-History_; whereas, hitherto, philosophers have contented
-themselves with adducing detached examples of scientific
-doctrines, drawn from one or two departments of science. So
-long as we select our examples in this arbitrary and limited
-manner, we lose the best part of that philosophical
-instruction, which the sciences are fitted to afford when we
-consider them as all members of one series, and as governed
-by rules which are the same for all. Mathematical and
-chemical truths, physical and physiological doctrines, the
-sciences of {10} classification and of causation, must alike
-be taken into our account, in order that we may learn what
-are the general characters of real knowledge. When our
-conclusions assume so comprehensive a shape that they apply
-to a range of subjects so vast and varied as these, we may
-feel some confidence that they represent the genuine form of
-universal and permanent truth. But if our exemplification is
-of a narrower kind, it may easily cramp and disturb our
-philosophy. We may, for instance, render our views of truth
-and its evidence so rigid and confined as to be quite
-worthless, by founding them too much on the contemplation of
-mathematical truth. We may overlook some of the most
-important steps in the general course of discovery, by
-fixing our attention too exclusively upon some one
-conspicuous group of discoveries, as, for instance, those of
-Newton. We may misunderstand the nature of physiological
-discoveries, by attempting to force an analogy between them
-and discoveries of mechanical laws, and by not attending to
-the intermediate sciences which fill up the vast interval
-between these extreme terms in the series of material
-sciences. In these and in many other ways, a partial and
-arbitrary reference to the material sciences in our inquiry
-into human knowledge may mislead us; or at least may fail to
-give us those wider views, and that deeper insight, which
-should result from a systematic study of the whole range of
-sciences with this particular object.
-
-The design of the following work, then, is to form a
-Philosophy of Science, by analyzing the substance and
-examining the progress of the existing body of the sciences.
-As a preliminary to this undertaking, a survey of the
-history of the sciences was necessary. This, accordingly, I
-have already performed; and the result of the labour thus
-undertaken has been laid before the public as a _History of
-the Inductive Sciences_.
-
-In that work I have endeavoured to trace the steps by which
-men acquired each main portion of that knowledge on which
-they now look with so much confidence and satisfaction. The
-events which that History relates, the speculations and
-controversies {11} which are there described, and
-discussions of the same kind, far more extensive, which are
-there omitted, must all be taken into our account at
-present, as the prominent and standard examples of the
-circumstances which attend the progress of knowledge. With
-so much of real historical fact before us, we may hope to
-avoid such views of the processes of the human mind as are
-too partial and limited, or too vague and loose, or too
-abstract and unsubstantial, to represent fitly the real
-forms of discovery and of truth.
-
-Of former attempts, made with the same view of tracing the
-conditions of the progress of knowledge, that of Bacon is
-perhaps the most conspicuous: and his labours on this
-subject were opened by his book on the _Advancement of
-Learning_, which contains, among other matter, a survey of
-the then existing state of knowledge. But this review was
-undertaken rather with the object of ascertaining in what
-quarters future advances were to be hoped for, than of
-learning by what means they were to be made. His examination
-of the domain of human knowledge was conducted rather with
-the view of discovering what remained undone, than of
-finding out how so much had been done. Bacon's survey was
-made for the purpose of tracing the boundaries, rather than
-of detecting the principles of knowledge. 'I will now
-attempt,' he says[1\I], 'to make a general and faithful
-perambulation of learning, with an inquiry what parts
-thereof lie fresh and waste, and not improved and converted
-by the industry of man; to the end that such a plot made and
-recorded to memory, may both minister light to any public
-designation, and also serve to excite voluntary endeavours.'
-Nor will it be foreign to our scheme also hereafter to
-examine with a like purpose the frontier-line of man's
-intellectual estate. But the object of our perambulation in
-the first place, is not so much to determine the extent of
-the field, as the sources of its fertility. We would learn
-by what plan and rules {12} of culture, conspiring with the
-native forces of the bounteous soil, those rich harvests
-have been produced which fill our garners. Bacon's maxims,
-on the other hand, respecting the mode in which he conceived
-that knowledge was thenceforth to be cultivated, have little
-reference to the failures, still less to the successes,
-which are recorded in his Review of the learning of his
-time. His precepts are connected with his historical views
-in a slight and unessential manner. His Philosophy of the
-Sciences is not collected from the Sciences which are
-noticed in his survey. Nor, in truth, could this, at the
-time when he wrote, have easily been otherwise. At that
-period, scarce any branch of physics existed as a science,
-except Astronomy. The rules which Bacon gives for the
-conduct of scientific researches are obtained, as it were,
-by divination, from the contemplation of subjects with
-regard to which no sciences as yet were. His instances of
-steps rightly or wrongly made in this path, are in a great
-measure cases of his own devising. He could not have
-exemplified his Aphorisms by references to treatises then
-extant, on the laws of nature; for the constant burden of
-his exhortation is, that men up to his time had almost
-universally followed an erroneous course. And however we may
-admire the sagacity with which he pointed the way along a
-better path, we have this great advantage over him;--that we
-can interrogate the many travellers who since his time have
-journeyed on this road. At the present day, when we have
-under our notice so many sciences, of such wide extent, so
-well established; a Philosophy of the Sciences ought, it
-must seem, to be founded, not upon conjecture, but upon an
-examination of many instances;--should not consist of a few
-vague and unconnected maxims, difficult and doubtful in
-their application, but should form a system of which every
-part has been repeatedly confirmed and verified.
-
-[Note 1\I: _Advancement of Learning_, b. i. p. 74.]
-
-This accordingly it is the purpose of the present work to
-attempt. But I may further observe, that as my hope of
-making any progress in this undertaking is {13} founded upon
-the design of keeping constantly in view the whole result of
-the past history and present condition of science, I have
-also been led to draw my lessons from my examples in a
-manner more systematic and regular, as appears to me, than
-has been done by preceding writers. Bacon, as I have just
-said, was led to his maxims for the promotion of knowledge
-by the sagacity of his own mind, with little or no aid from
-previous examples. Succeeding philosophers may often have
-gathered useful instruction from the instances of scientific
-truths and discoveries which they adduced, but their
-conclusions were drawn from their instances casually and
-arbitrarily. They took for their moral any which the story
-might suggest. But such a proceeding as this cannot suffice
-for us, whose aim is to obtain a consistent body of
-philosophy from a contemplation of the whole of Science and
-its History. For our purpose it is necessary to resolve
-scientific truths into their conditions and ingredients, in
-order that we may see in what manner each of these has been
-and is to be provided, in the cases which we may have to
-consider. This accordingly is necessarily the first part of
-our task:--_to analyse Scientific Truth into its Elements_.
-This attempt will occupy the earlier portion of the present
-work; and will necessarily be somewhat long, and perhaps, in
-many parts, abstruse and uninviting. The risk of such an
-inconvenience is inevitable; for the inquiry brings before
-us many of the most dark and entangled questions in which
-men have at any time busied themselves. And even if these
-can now be made clearer and plainer than of yore, still they
-can be made so only by means of mental discipline and mental
-effort. Moreover this analysis of scientific truth into its
-elements contains much, both in its principles and in its
-results, different from the doctrines most generally
-prevalent among us in recent times: but on that very account
-this analysis is an essential part of the doctrines which I
-have now to lay before the reader: and I must therefore
-crave his indulgence towards any portion of it which may
-appear to him obscure or repulsive. {14}
-
-There is another circumstance which may tend to make the
-present work less pleasing than others on the same subject,
-in the nature of the examples of human knowledge to which I
-confine myself; all my instances being, as I have said,
-taken from the material sciences. For the truths belonging
-to these sciences are, for the most part, neither so
-familiar nor so interesting to the bulk of readers as those
-doctrines which belong to some other subjects. Every general
-proposition concerning politics or morals at once stirs up
-an interest in men's bosoms, which makes them listen with
-curiosity to the attempts to trace it to its origin and
-foundation. Every rule of art or language brings before the
-mind of cultivated men subjects of familiar and agreeable
-thought, and is dwelt upon with pleasure for its own sake,
-as well as on account of the philosophical lessons which it
-may convey. But the curiosity which regards the truths of
-physics or chemistry, or even of physiology or astronomy, is
-of a more limited and less animated kind. Hence, in the mode
-of inquiry which I have prescribed to myself, the examples
-which I have to adduce will not amuse and relieve the
-reader's mind as much as they might do, if I could allow
-myself to collect them from the whole field of human
-knowledge. They will have in them nothing to engage his
-fancy, or to warm his heart. I am compelled to detain the
-listener in the chilly air of the external world, in order
-that we may have the advantage of full daylight.
-
-But although I cannot avoid this inconvenience, so far as it
-is one, I hope it will be recollected how great are the
-advantages which we obtain by this restriction. We are thus
-enabled to draw all our conclusions from doctrines which are
-universally allowed to be eminently certain, clear, and
-definite. The portions of knowledge to which I refer are
-well known, and well established among men. Their names are
-familiar, their assertions uncontested. Astronomy and
-Geology, Mechanics and Chemistry, Optics and Acoustics,
-Botany and Physiology, are each recognized as large and
-substantial collections of undoubted truths. Men are {15}
-wont to dwell with pride and triumph on the acquisitions of
-knowledge which have been made in each of these provinces;
-and to speak with confidence of the certainty of their
-results. And all can easily learn in what repositories these
-treasures of human knowledge are to be found. When,
-therefore, we begin our inquiry from such examples, we
-proceed upon a solid foundation. With such a clear ground of
-confidence, we shall not be met with general assertions of
-the vagueness and uncertainty of human knowledge; with the
-question, What truth is, and How we are to recognize it;
-with complaints concerning the hopelessness and
-unprofitableness of such researches. We have, at least, a
-definite problem before us. We have to examine the structure
-and scheme, not of a shapeless mass of incoherent materials,
-of which we doubt whether it be a ruin or a natural
-wilderness, but of a fair and lofty palace, still erect and
-tenanted, where hundreds of different apartments belong to a
-common plan, where every generation adds something to the
-extent and magnificence of the pile. The certainty and the
-constant progress of science are things so unquestioned,
-that we are at least engaged in an intelligible inquiry,
-when we are examining the grounds and nature of that
-certainty, the causes and laws of that progress.
-
-To this inquiry, then, we now proceed. And in entering upon
-this task, however our plan or our principles may differ
-from those of the eminent philosophers who have endeavoured,
-in our own or in former times, to illustrate or enforce the
-philosophy of science, we most willingly acknowledge them as
-in many things our leaders and teachers. Each reform must
-involve its own peculiar principles, and the result of our
-attempts, so far as they lead to a result, must be, in some
-respects, different from those of former works. But we may
-still share with the great writers who have treated this
-subject before us, their spirit of hope and trust, their
-reverence for the dignity of the subject, their belief in
-the vast powers and boundless destiny of man. And we may
-once more venture to use the {16} words of hopeful
-exhortation, with which the greatest of those who have
-trodden this path encouraged himself and his followers when
-he set out upon his way.
-
-'Concerning ourselves we speak not; but as touching the
-matter which we have in hand, this we ask;--that men deem it
-not to be the setting up an Opinion, but the performing of a
-Work: and that they receive this as a certainty; that we are
-not laying the foundations of any sect or doctrine, but of
-the profit and dignity of mankind. Furthermore, that being
-well disposed to what shall advantage themselves, and
-putting off factions and prejudices, they take common
-counsel with us, to the end that being by these our aids and
-appliances freed and defended from wanderings and
-impediments, they may lend their hands also to the labours
-which remain to be performed: and yet further, that they be
-of good hope; neither imagine to themselves this our Reform
-as something of infinite dimension, and beyond the grasp of
-mortal man, when in truth it is the end and true limit of
-infinite errour; and is by no means unmindful of the
-condition of mortality and humanity, not confiding that such
-a thing can be carried to its perfect close in the space of
-one single age, but assigning it as a task to a succession
-of generations.'
-
-[The Philosophy of the Inductive Sciences, according to our
-view, must be founded upon the History of such Sciences;
-which history we have attempted in a former work. The events
-of that history may be described generally as the rise of
-Theories out of Facts. But besides this, which we may term
-the _external_ history of Theories, there is an internal
-history of Theories, namely, the series of steps by which
-the human mind becomes capable of forming each Theory. Hence
-to complete the History of the Sciences as derived from
-Facts, we require a history of the Ideas by which such
-derivation has been made possible: and thus, the _First
-Part_ of our Philosophy must be a _History of Scientific
-Ideas_;--a labour no less historical than our former work,
-and concerned with the same events; but which has been
-purposely kept separate during the {17} composition, in
-order that it might be afterwards presented in a more
-systematic form, which I have here attempted to do.
-
-Scientific Ideas are the Conditions of the derivation of
-Sciences from Facts: but can any method or methods be given
-by which such a Derivation can be ensured, or at least,
-aided? Many such methods have been proposed; of which the
-most celebrated is the _Novum Organon_ of Bacon, of which
-the title was intended to imply that its scope goes much
-beyond the _Organon_ of Aristotle. With the experience of
-the formation of Science which the world has had since
-Bacon's time, it does not appear presumptuous to suppose
-that we can now improve or correct his methods; nor to term
-such an attempt _Novum Organon Renovatum_.
-
-The Philosophy of the Inductive Sciences, then, contains
-these two parts, _The History of Scientific Ideas_, and the
-_Novum Organon Renovatum_.]
-
-
-
-
-{{19}}
-THE
-PHILOSOPHY
-OF THE
-INDUCTIVE SCIENCES.
-
-
-PART I.
-
-HISTORY OF SCIENTIFIC IDEAS.
-
-
-[We have just spoken of _Theories_ and _Facts_, of _Ideas_
-and _Facts_, and of _Inductive_ Sciences, which imply the
-opposition of _Induction_ and _Deduction_. The explanation
-of these antitheses must be the starting point of our
-Philosophy.]
-
-
-[Knowledge grows, and] through the ages one increasing purpose runs,
-And the thoughts of men are widen'd with the process of the Suns.
-
-
-
-
-BOOK I.
-
-
-OF IDEAS IN GENERAL.
-
-
-Quæ adhuc inventa sunt in Scientiis, ea hujusmodi sunt ut
-Notionibus Vulgaribus fere subjaceant: ut vero ad interiora
-et remotiora Naturæ penetretur, necesse est ut tam NOTIONES
-quam AXIOMATA magis certâ et munitâ viâ a particularibus
-abstrahantur; atque omnino melior et certior intellectûs
-adoperatio in usum veniat.
-
-BACON, _Nov. Org._, Lib. 1. Aphor. xviii.
-
-
-{{23}}
-BOOK I.
-
-
-OF IDEAS IN GENERAL.
-
-
-CHAPTER I.
-
-OF THE FUNDAMENTAL ANTITHESIS OF PHILOSOPHY.
-
-
-_Sect._ 1.--_Thoughts and Things._
-
-IN order that we may do something towards determining the
-nature and conditions of human knowledge, (which I have
-already stated as the purpose of this work,) I shall have to
-refer to an antithesis or opposition, which is familiar and
-generally recognized, and in which the distinction of the
-things opposed to each other is commonly considered very
-clear and plain. I shall have to attempt to make this
-opposition sharper and stronger than it is usually
-conceived, and yet to shew that the distinction is far from
-being so clear and definite as it is usually assumed to be:
-I shall have to point the contrast, yet shew that the things
-which are contrasted cannot be separated:--I must explain
-that the antithesis is constant and essential, but yet that
-there is no fixed and permanent line dividing its members. I
-may thus appear, in different parts of my discussion, to be
-proceeding in opposite directions, but I hope that the
-reader who gives me a patient attention will see that both
-steps lead to the point of view to which I wish to lead him.
-
-The antithesis or opposition of which I speak is denoted,
-with various modifications, by various pairs of terms: I
-shall endeavour to shew the connexion of these different
-modes of expression, and I will begin with that form which
-is the simplest and most idiomatic. {24}
-
-The simplest and most idiomatic expression of the antithesis
-to which I refer is that in which we oppose to each other
-THINGS and THOUGHTS. The opposition is familiar and plain.
-Our thoughts are something which belongs to ourselves;
-something which takes place within us; they are what we
-think; they are actions of our minds. Things, on the
-contrary, are something different from ourselves and
-independent of us; something which is without us; they
-_are_; we see them, touch them, and thus know that they
-exist; but we do not make them by seeing or touching them,
-as we make our _Thoughts_ by thinking them; we are passive,
-and _Things_ act upon our organs of perception.
-
-Now what I wish especially to remark is this: that in all
-human KNOWLEDGE both Thoughts and Things are concerned. In
-every part of my knowledge there must be some _thing_ about
-which I know, and an internal act of _me_ who know. Thus, to
-take simple yet definite parts of our knowledge, if I know
-that a solar year consists of 365 days, or a lunar month of
-30 days, I know something about the sun or the moon; namely,
-that those objects perform certain revolutions and go
-through certain changes, in those numbers of days; but I
-count such numbers and conceive such revolutions and changes
-by acts of my own thoughts. And both these elements of my
-knowledge are indispensable. If there were not such external
-Things as the sun and the moon I could not have any
-knowledge of the progress of time as marked by them. And
-however regular were the motions of the sun and moon, if I
-could not count their appearances and combine their changes
-into a cycle, or if I could not understand this when done by
-other men, I could not know anything about a year or a
-month. In the former case I might be conceived as a human
-being, possessing the human powers of thinking and
-reckoning, but kept in a dark world with nothing to mark the
-progress of existence. The latter is the case of brute
-animals, which see the sun and moon, but do not know how
-many days make a month or a year, because they have not
-human powers of thinking and reckoning. {25}
-
-The two elements which are essential to our knowledge in the
-above cases, are necessary to human knowledge in all cases.
-In all cases, Knowledge implies a combination of Thoughts
-and Things. Without this combination, it would not be
-Knowledge. Without Thoughts, there could be no connexion;
-without Things, there could be no reality. Thoughts and
-Things are so intimately combined in our Knowledge, that we
-do not look upon them as distinct. One single act of the
-mind involves them both; and their contrast disappears in
-their union.
-
-But though Knowledge requires the union of these two
-elements, Philosophy requires the separation of them, in
-order that the nature and structure of Knowledge may be
-seen. Therefore I begin by considering this separation. And
-I now proceed to speak of another way of looking at the
-antithesis of which I have spoken; and which I may, for the
-reasons which I have just mentioned, call the FUNDAMENTAL
-ANTITHESIS OF PHILOSOPHY.
-
-
-_Sect._ 2.--_Necessary and Experiential Truths._
-
-MOST persons are familiar with the distinction of
-_necessary_ and _contingent_ truths. The former kind are
-Truths which cannot but be true; as that 19 and 11 make
-30;--that parallelograms upon the same base and between the
-same parallels are equal;--that all the angles in the same
-segment of a circle are equal. The latter are Truths which
-_it happens_ (_contingit_) are true; but which, for anything
-which we can see, might have been otherwise; as that a lunar
-month contains 30 days, or that the stars revolve in circles
-round the pole. The latter kind of Truths are learnt by
-experience, and hence we may call them _Truths of
-Experience_, or, for the sake of convenience, _Experiential_
-Truths, in contrast with Necessary Truths.
-
-Geometrical propositions are the most manifest examples of
-Necessary Truths. All persons who have read and understood
-the elements of geometry, know that the propositions above
-stated (that parallelograms {26} upon the same base and
-between the same parallels are equal; that all the angles in
-the same segment of a circle are equal,) are necessarily
-true; not only they are true, but they _must be_ true. The
-meaning of the terms being understood, and the proof being
-gone through, the truth of the propositions must be assented
-to. We learn these propositions to be true by demonstrations
-deduced from definitions and axioms; and when we have thus
-learnt them, we see that they could not be otherwise. In the
-same manner, the truths which concern numbers are necessary
-truths: 19 and 11 not only _do_ make 30, but _must_ make
-that number, and cannot make anything else. In the same
-manner, it is a necessary truth that half the sum of two
-numbers added to half their difference is equal to the
-greater number.
-
-It is easy to find examples of Experiential Truths;--
-propositions which we know to be true, but know by
-experience only. We know, in this way, that salt will
-dissolve in water; that plants cannot live without light;--
-in short, we know in this way all that we do know in
-chemistry, physiology, and the material sciences in general.
-I take the _Sciences_ as my examples of human knowledge,
-rather than the common truths of daily life, or moral or
-political truths; because, though the latter are more
-generally interesting, the former are much more definite and
-certain, and therefore better starting-points for our
-speculations, as I have already said. And we may take
-elementary astronomical truths as the most familiar examples
-of Experiential Truths in the domain of science.
-
-With these examples, the distinction of Necessary and
-Experiential Truths is, I hope, clear. The former kind, we
-see to be true by thinking about them, and see that they
-could not be otherwise. The latter kind, men could never
-have discovered to be true without looking at them; and
-having so discovered them, still no one will pretend to say
-they might not have been otherwise. For aught we can see,
-the astronomical truths which express the motions and
-periods of the sun, moon and stars, might have been
-otherwise. If we had been placed in another part of the
-solar system, our {27} experiential truths respecting days,
-years, and the motions of the heavenly bodies, would have
-been other than they are, as we know from astronomy itself.
-
-It is evident that this distinction of Necessary and
-Experiential Truths involves the same antithesis which we
-have already considered;--the antithesis of Thoughts and
-Things. Necessary Truths are derived from our own Thoughts:
-Experiential truths are derived from our observation of
-Things about us. The opposition of Necessary and
-Experiential Truths is another aspect of the Fundamental
-Antithesis of Philosophy.
-
-
-_Sect._ 3.--_Deduction and Induction._
-
-I HAVE already stated that geometrical truths are
-established by demonstrations _deduced_ from definitions and
-axioms. The term _Deduction_ is specially applied to such a
-course of demonstration of truths from definitions and
-axioms. In the case of the parallelograms upon the same base
-and between the same parallels, we prove certain triangles
-to be equal, by supposing them placed so that their two
-bases have the same extremities; and hence, referring to an
-Axiom respecting straight lines, we infer that the bases
-coincide. We combine these equal triangles with other equal
-spaces, and in this way make up both the one and the other
-of the parallelograms, in such a manner as to shew that they
-are equal. In this manner, going on step by step, deducing
-the equality of the triangles from the axiom, and the
-equality of the parallelograms from that of the triangles,
-we travel to the conclusion. And this process of successive
-deduction is the scheme of all geometrical proof. We begin
-with Definitions of the notions which we reason about, and
-with Axioms, or self-evident truths, respecting these
-notions; and we get, by reasoning from these, other truths
-which are demonstratively evident; and from these truths
-again, others of the same kind, and so on. We begin with our
-own Thoughts, which supply us with Axioms to start from; and
-we reason from these, till we come to propositions {28}
-which are applicable to the Things about us; as for
-instance, the propositions respecting circles and spheres
-applicable to the motions of the heavenly bodies. This is
-_Deduction_, or _Deductive Reasoning_.
-
-Experiential truths are acquired in a very different way. In
-order to obtain such truths, we begin with Things. In order
-to learn how many days there are in a year, or in a lunar
-month, we must begin by observing the sun and the moon. We
-must observe their changes day by day, and try to make the
-cycle of change fit into some notion of number which we
-supply from our own Thoughts. We shall find that a cycle of
-30 days nearly will fit the changes of phase of the
-moon;--that a cycle of 365 days nearly will fit the changes
-of daily motion of the sun. Or, to go on to experiential
-truths of which the discovery comes within the limits of the
-history of science--we shall find (as Hipparchus found) that
-the unequal motion of the sun among the stars, such as
-observation shews it to be, may be fitly represented by the
-notion of an _eccentric_;--a circle in which the sun has an
-equable annual motion, the spectator not being in the center
-of the circle. Again, in the same manner, at a later period,
-Kepler started from more exact observations of the sun, and
-compared them with a supposed motion in a certain ellipse;
-and was able to shew that, not a circle about an eccentric
-point, but an ellipse, supplied the mode of conception which
-truly agreed with the motion of the sun about the earth; or
-rather, as Copernicus had already shewn, of the earth about
-the sun. In such cases, in which truths are obtained by
-beginning from observation of external things and by finding
-some notion with which the Things, as observed, agree, the
-truths are said to be obtained by _Induction_. The process
-is an _Inductive Process_.
-
-The contrast of the Deductive and Inductive process is
-obvious. In the former, we proceed at each step from general
-truths to particular applications of them; in the latter,
-from particular observations to a general truth which
-includes them. In the former case we may be said to reason
-_downwards_, in the latter case, {29} _upwards_; for general
-notions are conceived as standing above particulars.
-Necessary truths are proved, like arithmetical sums, by
-adding together the portions of which they consist. An
-inductive truth is proved, like the guess which answers a
-riddle, by its agreeing with the facts described.
-Demonstration is irresistible in its effect on the belief,
-but does not produce surprize, because all the steps to the
-conclusion are exhibited, before we arrive at the
-conclusion. Inductive inference is not demonstrative, but it
-is often more striking than demonstrative reasoning, because
-the intermediate links between the particulars and the
-inference are not shewn. Deductive truths are the results of
-relations among our own Thoughts. Inductive truths are
-relations which we discern among existing Things; and thus,
-this opposition of Deduction and Induction is again an
-aspect of the Fundamental Antithesis already spoken of.
-
-
-_Sect._ 4.--_Theories and Facts._
-
-GENERAL experiential Truths, such as we have just spoken of,
-are called _Theories_, and the particular observations from
-which they are collected, and which they include and
-explain, are called _Facts_. Thus Hipparchus's doctrine,
-that the sun moves in an eccentric about the earth, is _his
-Theory_ of the Sun, or the _Eccentric Theory_. The doctrine
-of Kepler, that the Earth moves in an Ellipse about the Sun,
-is _Kepler's Theory_ of the Earth, the Elliptical Theory.
-Newton's doctrine that this elliptical motion of the Earth
-about the Sun is produced and governed by the Sun's
-attraction upon the Earth, is the _Newtonian_ theory, the
-_Theory of Attraction_. Each of these Theories was accepted,
-because it included, connected and explained the _Facts_;
-the Facts being, in the two former cases, the motions of the
-Sun as observed; and in the other case, the elliptical
-motion of the Earth as known by Kepler's Theory. This
-antithesis of _Theory_ and _Fact_ is included in what has
-just been said of Inductive Propositions. A Theory is an
-Inductive Proposition, and the Facts {30} are the particular
-observations from which, as I have said, such Propositions
-are inferred by Induction. The Antithesis of Theory and Fact
-implies the fundamental Antithesis of Thoughts and Things;
-for a Theory (that is, a true Theory) may be described as a
-Thought which is contemplated distinct from Things and seen
-to agree with them; while a Fact is a combination of our
-Thoughts with Things in so complete agreement that we do not
-regard them as separate.
-
-Thus the antithesis of Theory and Fact involves the
-antithesis of Thoughts and Things, but is not identical with
-it. Facts involve Thoughts, for we know Facts only by
-thinking about them. The Fact that the year consists of 365
-days; the Fact that the month consists of 30 days, cannot be
-known to us, except we have the Thoughts of Time, Number and
-Recurrence. But these Thoughts are so familiar, that we have
-the fact in our mind as a simple Thing without attending to
-the Thought which it involves. When we mould our Thoughts
-into a Theory, we consider the thought as distinct from the
-Facts; but yet, though distinct, not independent of them;
-for it is a true Theory, only by including and agreeing with
-the Facts.
-
-
-_Sect._ 5.--_Ideas and Sensations._
-
-WE have just seen that the antithesis of Theory and Fact,
-although it involves the antithesis of Thoughts and Things,
-is not identical with it. There are other modes of
-expression also, which involve the same Fundamental
-Antithesis, more or less modified. Of these, the pair of
-words which in their relations appear to separate the
-members of the antithesis most distinctly are _Ideas_ and
-_Sensations_. We see and hear and touch external things, and
-thus perceive them by our senses; but in perceiving them, we
-connect the impressions of sense according to relations of
-space, time, number, likeness, cause, &c. Now some at least
-of these kinds of connexion, as space, time, number, may be
-contemplated distinct from the things to which they are
-applied; and so contemplated, I term them _Ideas_. And {31}
-the other element, the impressions upon our senses which
-they connect, are called _Sensations_.
-
-I term space, time, cause, &c., _Ideas_, because they are
-general relations among our sensations, apprehended by an
-act of the mind, not by the senses simply. These relations
-involve something beyond what the senses alone could
-furnish. By the sense of sight we see various shades and
-colours and shapes before us, but the _outlines_ by which
-they are separated into distinct objects of definite forms,
-are the work of the mind itself. And again, when we conceive
-visible things, not only as surfaces of a certain form, but
-as _solid bodies_, placed at various distances in space, we
-again exert an act of the mind upon them. When we see a body
-move, we see it move in a path or _orbit_, but this orbit is
-not itself seen; it is constructed by the mind. In like
-manner when we see the motions of a needle towards a magnet,
-we do not _see_ the attraction or force which produces the
-effects; but we infer the force, by having in our minds the
-Idea of Cause. Such acts of thought, such _Ideas_, enter
-into our perceptions of external things.
-
-But though our perceptions of external things involve some
-act of the mind, they must involve something else besides an
-act of the mind. If we must exercise an act of thought in
-order to see force exerted, or orbits described by bodies in
-motion, or even in order to see bodies existing in space,
-and to distinguish one kind of object from another, still
-the act of thought alone does not make the Bodies. There
-must be something besides, _on which_ the thought is
-exerted. A colour, a form, a sound, are not produced by the
-mind, however they may be moulded, combined, and interpreted
-by our mental acts. A philosophical poet has spoken of
- All the world
- Of eye and ear, both what they half create,
- And what perceive.
-But it is clear, that though they _half_ create, they do not
-wholly create: there must be an external world of colour and
-sound to give impressions to the eye and ear, as well as internal
-powers by which we perceive {32} what is offered to our organs.
-The mind is in some way passive as well as active: there are
-objects without as well as faculties within;--Sensations,
-as well as acts of Thought.
-
-Indeed this is so far generally acknowledged, that according
-to common apprehension, the mind is passive _rather_ than
-active in acquiring the knowledge which it receives
-concerning the material world. Its sensations are generally
-considered more distinct than its operations. The world
-without is held to be more clearly real than the faculties
-within. That there is something different from ourselves,
-something external to us, something independent of us,
-something which no act of our minds can make or can destroy,
-is held by all men to be at least as evident, as that our
-minds can exert any effectual process in modifying and
-appreciating the impressions made upon them. Most persons
-are more likely to doubt whether the mind be always actively
-applying Ideas to the objects which it perceives, than
-whether it perceive them passively by means of Sensations.
-
-But yet a little consideration will show us that an activity
-of the mind, and an activity according to certain Ideas, is
-requisite in all our knowledge of external objects. We see
-objects, of various solid forms, and at various distances
-from us. But we do not thus perceive them by sensation
-alone. Our visual impressions cannot, of themselves, convey
-to us a knowledge of solid form, or of distance from us.
-Such knowledge is inferred from what we see:--inferred by
-conceiving the objects as existing in space, and by applying
-to them the Idea of Space. Again:--day after day passes,
-till they make up a year: but we do not know that the days
-are 365, except we count them; and thus apply to them our
-Idea of Number. Again:--we see a needle drawn to a magnet:
-but, in truth, the _drawing_ is what we cannot see. We see
-the needle move, and infer the attraction, by applying to
-the fact our Idea of Force, as the cause of motion.
-Again:--we see two trees of different kinds; but we cannot
-know that they are so, except by applying to them our Idea
-of the resemblance {33} and difference which makes kinds.
-And thus Ideas, as well as Sensations, necessarily enter
-into all our knowledge of objects: and these two words
-express, perhaps more exactly than any of the pairs before
-mentioned, that Fundamental Antithesis, in the union of
-which, as I have said, all knowledge consists.
-
-
-_Sect._ 6.--_Reflexion and Sensation._
-
-IT will hereafter be my business to show what the Ideas are,
-which thus enter into our knowledge; and how each Idea has
-been, as a matter of historical fact, introduced into the
-Science to which it especially belongs. But before I proceed
-to do this, I will notice some other terms, besides the
-phrases already noticed, which have a reference, more or
-less direct, to the Fundamental Antithesis of Ideas and
-Sensations. I will mention some of these, in order that if
-they should come under the reader's notice, he may not be
-perplexed as to their bearing upon the view here presented
-to him.
-
-The celebrated doctrine of Locke, that all our 'Ideas,'
-(that is, in his use of the word, all our objects of
-thinking,) come from Sensation or Reflexion, will naturally
-occur to the reader as connected with the antithesis of
-which I have been speaking. But there is a great difference
-between Locke's account of Sensation and Reflexion, and our
-view of Sensation and Ideas. He is speaking of the origin of
-our knowledge;--we, of its nature and composition. He is
-content to say that all the knowledge which we do not
-receive directly by Sensation, we obtain by Reflex Acts of
-the mind, which make up his Reflexion. But we hold that
-there is no Sensation without an act of the mind, and that
-the mind's activity is not only reflexly exerted upon
-itself, but directly upon objects, so as to perceive in them
-connexions and relations which are not Sensations. He is
-content to put together, under the name of Reflexion,
-everything in our knowledge which is not Sensation: we are
-to attempt to analyze all that is not Sensation; not only to
-say it consists of Ideas, but {34} to point out what those
-Ideas are, and to show the mode in which each of them enters
-into our knowledge. His purpose was, to prove that there are
-no Ideas, except the reflex acts of the mind: our endeavour
-will be to show that the acts of the mind, both direct and
-reflex, are governed by certain Laws, which may be
-conveniently termed Ideas. His procedure was, to deny that
-any knowledge could be derived from the mind alone: our
-course will be, to show that in every part of our most
-certain and exact knowledge, those who have added to our
-knowledge in every age have referred to principles which the
-mind itself supplies. I do not say that my view is contrary
-to his: but it is altogether different from his. If I grant
-that all our knowledge comes from Sensation and Reflexion,
-still my task then is only begun; for I want further to
-determine, in each science, what portion comes, not from
-mere Sensation, but from those Ideas by the aid of which
-either Sensation or Reflexion can lead to Science.
-
-Locke's use of the word 'idea' is, as the reader will
-perceive, different from ours. He uses the word, as he says,
-which 'serves best to stand for whatsoever is the object of
-the understanding when a man thinks.' 'I have used it,' he
-adds, 'to express whatever is meant by _phantasm_, _notion_,
-_species_, or whatever it is to which the mind can be
-employed about in thinking.' It might be shown that this
-separation of the _mind itself_ from the ideal _objects_
-about which it is employed in thinking, may lead to very
-erroneous results. But it may suffice to observe that we use
-the word _Ideas_, in the manner already explained, to
-express that element, supplied by the mind itself, which
-must be combined with Sensation in order to produce
-knowledge. For us, Ideas are not Objects of Thought, but
-rather Laws of Thought. Ideas are not synonymous with
-Notions; they are Principles which give to our Notions
-whatever they contain of truth. But our use of the term
-_Idea_ will be more fully explained hereafter. {35}
-
-
-_Sect._ 7.--_Subjective and Objective._
-
-THE Fundamental Antithesis of Philosophy of which I have to
-speak has been brought into great prominence in the writings
-of modern German philosophers, and has conspicuously formed
-the basis of their systems. They have indicated this
-antithesis by the terms _subjective_ and _objective_.
-According to the technical language of old writers, a thing
-and its qualities are described as _subject_ and
-_attributes_; and thus a man's faculties and acts are
-attributes of which he is the _subject_. The mind is the
-_subject_ in which ideas inhere. Moreover, the man's
-faculties and acts are employed upon external _objects_; and
-from objects all his sensations arise. Hence the part of a
-man's knowledge which belongs to his own mind, is
-_subjective_: that which flows in upon him from the world
-external to him, is _objective_. And as in man's
-contemplation of nature, there is always some act of thought
-which depends upon himself, and some matter of thought which
-is independent of him, there is, in every part of his
-knowledge, a subjective and an objective element. The
-combination of the two elements, the subjective or ideal,
-and the objective or observed, is necessary, in order to
-give us any insight into the laws of nature. But different
-persons, according to their mental habits and constitution,
-may be inclined to dwell by preference upon the one or the
-other of these two elements. It may perhaps interest the
-reader to see this difference of intellectual character
-illustrated in two eminent men of genius of modern times,
-Göthe and Schiller.
-
-Göthe himself gives us the account to which I refer, in his
-history of the progress of his speculations concerning the
-Metamorphosis of Plants; a mode of viewing their structure
-by which he explained, in a very striking and beautiful
-manner, the relations of the different parts of a plant to
-each other; as has been narrated in the _History of the
-Inductive Sciences_. Göthe felt a delight in the passive
-contemplation of nature, unmingled with the desire of
-reasoning and theorizing; a delight such as naturally
-belongs to those poets who {36} merely embody the images
-which a fertile genius suggests, and do not mix with these
-pictures, judgments and reflexions of their own. Schiller,
-on the other hand, both by his own strong feeling of the
-value of a moral purpose in poetry, and by his adoption of a
-system of metaphysics in which the subjective element was
-made very prominent, was well disposed to recognize fully
-the authority of ideas over external impressions.
-
-Göthe for a time felt a degree of estrangement towards
-Schiller, arising from this contrariety in their views and
-characters. But on one occasion they fell into discussion on
-the study of natural history; and Göthe endeavoured to
-impress upon his companion his persuasion that nature was to
-be considered, not as composed of detached and incoherent
-parts, but as active and alive, and unfolding herself in
-each portion, in virtue of principles which pervade the
-whole. Schiller objected that no such view of the objects of
-natural history had been pointed out by observation, the
-only guide which the natural historians recommended; and was
-disposed on this account to think the whole of their study
-narrow and shallow. 'Upon this,' says Göthe, 'I expounded to
-him, in as lively a way as I could, the metamorphosis of
-plants, drawing on paper for him, as I proceeded, a diagram
-to represent that general form of a plant which shows itself
-in so many and so various transformations. Schiller attended
-and understood; and, accepting the explanation, he said,
-"This is not observation, but an idea." I replied,' adds
-Göthe, 'with some degree of irritation; for the point which
-separated us was most luminously marked by this expression:
-but I smothered my vexation, and merely said, "I was happy
-to find that I had got ideas without knowing it; nay, that I
-saw them before my eyes."' Göthe then goes on to say, that
-he had been grieved to the very soul by maxims promulgated
-by Schiller, that no observed fact ever could correspond
-with an idea. Since he himself loved best to wander in the
-domain of external observation, he had been led to look with
-repugnance and hostility upon anything which professed to
-depend upon ideas. 'Yet,' he {37} observes, 'it occurred to
-me that if my Observation was identical with his Idea, there
-must be some common ground on which we might meet.' They
-went on with their mutual explanations, and became intimate
-and lasting friends. 'And thus,' adds the poet, by means of
-that mighty and interminable controversy between _object_
-and _subject_, we two concluded an alliance which remained
-unbroken, and produced much benefit to ourselves and others.'
-
-The general diagram of a plant, of which Göthe here speaks,
-must have been a combination of lines and marks expressing
-the relations of position and equivalence among the elements
-of vegetable forms, by which so many of their resemblances
-and differences may be explained. Such a symbol is not an
-Idea in that general sense in which we propose to use the
-term, but is a particular modification of the general Ideas
-of symmetry, developement, and the like; and we shall
-hereafter see, according to the phraseology which we shall
-explain in the next chapter, how such a diagram might
-express the _ideal conception_ of a plant.
-
-The antithesis of _subjective_ and _objective_ is very
-familiar in the philosophical literature of Germany and
-France; nor is it uncommon in any age of our own literature.
-But though efforts have recently been made to give currency
-among us to this phraseology, it has not been cordially
-received, and has been much complained of as not of obvious
-meaning. Nor is the complaint without ground: for when we
-regard the mind as the _subject_ in which ideas inhere, it
-becomes for us an _object_, and the antithesis vanishes. We
-are not so much accustomed to use _subject_ in this sense,
-as to make it a proper contrast to _object_. The combination
-'_ideal_ and _objective_,' would more readily convey to a
-modern reader the opposition which is intended between the
-ideas of the mind itself, and the objects which it
-contemplates around it.
-
-To the antitheses already noticed--Thoughts and Things;
-Necessary and Experiential Truths; Deduction and Induction;
-Theory and Fact; Ideas and Sensations; Reflexion and
-Sensation; Subjective and {38} Objective; we may add others,
-by which distinctions depending more or less upon the
-fundamental antithesis have been denoted. Thus we speak of
-the _internal_ and _external_ sources of our knowledge; of
-the world _within_ and the world _without_ us; of _Man_ and
-_Nature_. Some of the more recent metaphysical writers of
-Germany have divided the universe into the _Me_ and _Not-me_
-(Ich and Nicht-ich). Upon such phraseology we may observe,
-that to have the fundamental antithesis of which we speak
-really understood, is of the highest consequence to
-philosophy, but that little appears to be gained by
-expressing it in any novel manner. The most weighty part of
-the philosopher's task is to analyze the operations of the
-mind; and in this task, it can aid us but little to call it,
-instead of the _mind_, the _subject_, or the _me_.
-
-
-_Sect._ 8.--_Matter and Form._
-
-THERE are some other ways of expressing, or rather of
-illustrating, the fundamental antithesis, which I may
-briefly notice. The antithesis has been at different times
-presented by means of various images. One of the most
-ancient of these, and one which is still very instructive,
-is that which speaks of Sensations as the _Matter_, and
-Ideas as the _Form_, of our knowledge; just as ivory is the
-matter, and a cube the form, of a die. This comparison has
-the advantage of showing that two elements of an antithesis
-which cannot be separated in fact, may yet be advantageously
-separated in our reasonings. For Matter and Form cannot by
-any means be detached from each other. All matter must have
-some form; all form must be the form of some material thing.
-If the ivory be not a cube, it must have a spherical or some
-other form. And the cube, in order to be a cube, must be of
-some material;--if not of ivory, of wood, or stone, for
-instance, A figure without matter is merely a geometrical
-conception;--a modification of the idea of space. Matter
-without figure is a mere abstract term;--a supposed union of
-certain sensible qualities which, so insulated {39} from
-others, cannot exist. Yet the distinction of Matter and Form
-is real; and, as a subject of contemplation, clear and
-plain. Nor is the distinction by any means useless. The
-speculations which treat of the two subjects, Matter and
-Figure, are very different. Matter is the subject of the
-sciences of Mechanics and Chemistry; Figure, of Geometry.
-These two classes of Sciences have quite different sets of
-principles. If we refuse to consider the Matter and the Form
-of bodies separately, because we cannot exhibit Matter and
-Form separately, we shut the door to all philosophy on such
-subjects. In like manner, though Sensations and Ideas are
-necessarily united in all our knowledge, they can be
-considered as distinct; and this distinction is the basis of
-all philosophy concerning knowledge.
-
-This illustration of the relation of Ideas and Sensations
-may enable us to estimate a doctrine which has been put
-forwards at various times. In a certain school of
-speculators there has existed a disposition to derive all
-our Ideas from our Sensations, the term _Idea_, being, in
-this school, used in its wider sense, so as to include all
-modifications and limitations of our Fundamental Ideas. The
-doctrines of this school have been summarily expressed by
-saying that 'Every Idea is a transformed Sensation.' Now,
-even supposing this assertion to be exactly true, we easily
-see, from what has been said, how little we are likely to
-answer the ends of philosophy by putting forward such a
-maxim as one of primary importance. For we might say, in
-like manner, that every statue is but a transformed block of
-marble, or every edifice but a collection of transformed
-stones. But what would these assertions avail us, if our
-object were to trace the rules of art by which beautiful
-statues were formed, or great works of architecture erected?
-The question naturally occurs, What is the nature, the
-principle, the law of this Transformation? In what faculty
-resides the transforming power? What train of ideas of
-beauty, and symmetry, and stability, in the mind of the
-statuary or the architect, has produced those great works
-which {40} mankind look upon as among their most valuable
-possessions;--the Apollo of the Belvidere, the Parthenon,
-the Cathedral of Cologne? When this is what we want to know,
-how are we helped by learning that the Apollo is of Parian
-marble, or the Cathedral of basaltic stone? We must know
-much more than this, in order to acquire any insight into
-the principles of statuary or of architecture. In like
-manner, in order that we may make any progress in the
-philosophy of knowledge, which is our purpose, we must
-endeavour to learn something further respecting ideas than
-that they are transformed sensations, even if they were this.
-
-But, in reality, the assertion that our ideas are
-transformed sensations, is erroneous as well as frivolous.
-For it conveys, and is intended to convey, the opinion that
-our sensations have one form which properly belongs to them;
-and that, in order to become ideas, they are converted into
-some other form. But the truth is, that our sensations, of
-themselves, without some act of the mind, such as involves
-what we have termed an Idea, have no form. We cannot see one
-object without the idea of space; we cannot see two without
-the idea of resemblance or difference; and space and
-difference are not sensations. Thus, if we are to employ the
-metaphor of Matter and Form, which is implied in the
-expression to which I have referred, our sensations, from
-their first reception, have their Form not _changed_, but
-_given_ by our Ideas. Without the relations of thought which
-we here term _Ideas_, the sensations are matter without
-form. Matter without form cannot exist: and in like manner
-sensations cannot become perceptions of objects, without
-some formative power of the mind. By the very act of being
-received as perceptions, they have a formative power
-exercised upon them, the operation of which might be
-expressed, by speaking of them, not as _transformed_, but
-simply as _formed_;--as invested with form, instead of being
-the mere formless material of perception. The word _inform_,
-according to its Latin etymology, at first implied this
-process by which matter is {41} invested with form. Thus
-Virgil[1\1] speaks of the thunderbolt as _informed_ by the
-hands of Brontes, and Steropes, and Pyracmon. And Dryden
-introduces the word in another place:--
- Let others better mould the running mass
- Of metals, or _inform_ the breathing brass.
-Even in this use of the word, the form is something superior
-to the brute manner, and gives it a new significance and
-purpose. And hence the term is again used to denote the
-effect produced by an intelligent principle of a still
-higher kind:--
- . . . . He _informed_
- This ill-shaped body with a daring soul.
-And finally even the soul itself, in its original condition,
-is looked upon as matter, when viewed with reference to
-education and knowledge, by which it is afterwards moulded;
-and hence these are, in our language, termed _information_.
-If we confine ourselves to the first of these three uses of
-the term, we may correct the erroneous opinion of which we
-have just been speaking, and retain the metaphor by which it
-is expressed, by saying, that ideas are not _transformed_,
-but _informed_ sensations.
-
-[Note 1\1: Ferrum exercebant vasto Cyclopes in Antro
-Brontesque Steropesque et nudus membra Pyracmon;
-His informatum manibus, jam parte polita
-Fulmen erat.--_Æn._ viii. 424.]
-
-
-_Sect._ 9.--_Man the Interpreter of Nature._
-
-THERE is another image by which writers have represented the
-acts of thought through which knowledge is obtained from the
-observation of the external world. Nature is the Book, and
-Man is the _Interpreter_. The facts of the external world
-are marks, in which man discovers a meaning, and so reads
-them. Man is the Interpreter of Nature, and Science is the
-right Interpretation. And this image also is, in many
-respects, {42} instructive. It exhibits to us the necessity
-of both elements;--the marks which man has to look at, and
-the knowledge of the alphabet and language which he must
-possess and apply before he can find any meaning in what he
-sees. Moreover this image presents to us, as the ideal
-element, an activity of the mind of that very kind which we
-wish to point out. Indeed the illustration is rather an
-example than a comparison of the composition of our
-knowledge. The letters and symbols which are presented to
-the Interpreter are really objects of sensation: the notion
-of letters as signs of words, the notion of connexions among
-words by which they have meaning, really are among our
-Ideas;--_Signs_ and _Meaning_ are Ideas, supplied by the
-mind, and added to all that sensation can disclose in any
-collection of visible marks. The Sciences are not
-figuratively, but really, Interpretations of Nature. But
-this image, whether taken as example or comparison, may
-serve to show both the opposite character of the two
-elements of knowledge, and their necessary combination, in
-order that there may be knowledge.
-
-This illustration may also serve to explain another point in
-the conditions of human knowledge which we shall have to
-notice:--namely, the very different degrees in which, in
-different cases, we are conscious of the mental act by which
-our sensations are converted into knowledge. For the same
-difference occurs in reading an inscription. If the
-inscription were entire and plain, in a language with which
-we were familiar, we should be unconscious of any mental act
-in reading it. We should seem to collect its meaning by the
-sight alone. But if we had to decipher an ancient
-inscription, of which only imperfect marks remained, with a
-few entire letters among them, we should probably make
-several suppositions as to the mode of reading it, before we
-found any mode which was quite successful; and thus, our
-guesses, being separate from the observed facts, and at
-first not fully in agreement with them, we should be clearly
-aware that the conjectured meaning, on the one hand, and the
-observed marks on the other, were distinct things, though
-these {43} two things would become united as elements of one
-act of knowledge when we had hit upon the right conjecture.
-
-
-_Sect._ 10.--_The Fundamental Antithesis inseparable._
-
-THE illustration just referred to, as well as other ways of
-considering the subject, may help us to get over a
-difficulty which at first sight appears perplexing. We have
-spoken of the common opposition of _Theory_ and _Fact_ as
-important, and as involving what we have called the
-Fundamental Antithesis of Philosophy. But after all, it may
-be asked, Is this distinction of Theory and Fact really
-tenable? Is it not often difficult to say whether a special
-part of our knowledge is a Fact or a Theory? Is it a Fact or
-a Theory that the stars revolve round the pole? Is it a Fact
-or a Theory that the earth is a globe revolving on its axis?
-Is it a Fact or a Theory that the earth travels in an
-ellipse round the sun? Is it a Fact or a Theory that the sun
-attracts the earth? Is it a Fact or a Theory that the
-loadstone attracts the needle? In all these cases, probably
-some persons would answer one way, and some persons the
-other. There are many persons by whom the doctrine of the
-globular form of the earth, the doctrine of the earth's
-elliptical orbit, the doctrine of the sun's attraction on
-the earth, would be called _theories_, even if they allowed
-them to be true theories. But yet if each of these
-propositions be true, is it not a _fact_? And even with
-regard to the simpler facts, as the motion of the stars
-round the pole, although this may be a Fact to one who has
-watched and measured the motions of the stars, one who has
-not done this, and who has only carelessly looked at these
-stars from time to time, may naturally speak of the circles
-which the astronomer makes them describe as Theories. It
-would seem, then, that we cannot in such cases expect
-general assent, if we say, _This is a Fact and not a
-Theory_, or _This is a Theory and not a Fact_. And the same
-is true in a vast range of cases. It would seem, therefore,
-that we cannot rest any reasoning upon this distinction of
-Theory {44} and Fact; and we cannot avoid asking whether
-there is any real distinction in this antithesis, and if so,
-what it is.
-
-To this I reply: the distinction between Theory (that is,
-true Theory) and Fact, is this: that in Theory the Ideas are
-considered as distinct from the Facts: in Facts, though
-Ideas may be involved, they are not, in our apprehension,
-separated from the sensations. In a Fact, the Ideas are
-applied so readily and familiarly, and incorporated with the
-sensations so entirely, that we do not see _them_, we see
-_through them_. A person who carefully notes the motion of a
-star all night, sees the circle which it describes, as he
-sees the star, though the circle is, really, a result of his
-own Ideas. A person who has in his mind the measures of
-different lines and countries on the earth's surface, and
-who can put them, together into one conception, finds that
-they can make no figure but a globular one: to him, the
-earth's globular form is a Fact, as much as the square form
-of his chamber. A person to whom the grounds of believing
-the earth to travel round the sun are as familiar as the
-grounds for believing the movements of the mail-coaches in
-this country, looks upon the former event as a Fact, just as
-he looks upon the latter events as Facts. And a person who,
-knowing the Fact of the earth's annual motion, refers it
-distinctly to its mechanical cause, conceives the sun's
-attraction as a Fact, just as he conceives as a Fact, the
-action of the wind which turns the sails of a mill. He
-cannot _see_ the force in either case; he supplies it out of
-his own Ideas. And thus, a true Theory is a Fact; a Fact is
-a familiar Theory. That which is a Fact under one aspect, is
-a Theory under another. The most recondite Theories when
-firmly established are Facts: the simplest Facts involve
-something of the nature of Theory. Theory and Fact
-correspond, in a certain degree, with Ideas and Sensations,
-as to the nature of their opposition. But the Facts are
-Facts, so far as the Ideas have been combined with the
-Sensations and absorbed in them: the Theories are Theories,
-so far as the Ideas are kept distinct from the Sensations,
-and so far as it is {45} considered still a question whether
-those can be made to agree with these.
-
-We may, as I have said, illustrate this matter by
-considering man as _interpreting_ the phenomena which he
-sees. He often interprets without being aware that he does
-so. Thus when we see the needle move towards the magnet, we
-assert that the magnet exercises an attractive force on the
-needle. But it is only by an interpretative act of our own
-minds that we ascribe this motion to attraction. That, in
-this case, a force is exerted--something of the nature of
-the pull which we could apply by our own volition--is our
-interpretation of the phenomena; although we may be
-conscious of the act of interpretation, and may then regard
-the attraction as a Fact.
-
-Nor is it in such cases only that we interpret phenomena in
-our own way, without being conscious of what we do. We see a
-tree at a distance, and judge it to be a chestnut or a lime;
-yet this is only an inference from the colour or form of the
-mass according to preconceived classifications of our own.
-Our lives are full of such unconscious interpretations. The
-farmer recognizes a good or a bad soil; the artist a picture
-of a favourite master; the geologist a rock of a known
-locality, as we recognize the faces and voices of our
-friends; that is, by judgments formed on what we see and
-hear; but judgments in which we do not analyze the steps, or
-distinguish the inference from the appearance. And in these
-mixtures of observation and inference, we speak of the
-judgment thus formed, as a Fact directly observed.
-
-Even in the case in which our perceptions appear to be most
-direct, and least to involve any interpretations of our
-own,--in the simple process of seeing,--who does not know
-how much we, by an act of the mind, add to that which our
-senses receive? Does any one fancy that he sees a solid
-cube? It is easy to show that the solidity of the figure,
-the relative position of its faces and edges to each other,
-are inferences of the spectator; no more conveyed to his
-conviction by the eye alone, than they would be if he were
-looking at {46} a painted representation of a cube. The
-scene of nature is a picture without depth of substance, no
-less than the scene of art; and in the one case as in the
-other, it is the mind which, by an act of its own, discovers
-that colour and shape denote distance and solidity. Most men
-are unconscious of this perpetual habit of reading the
-language of the external world, and translating as they
-read. The draughtsman, indeed, is compelled, for his
-purposes, to return back in thought from the solid bodies
-which he has inferred, to the shapes of surface which he
-really sees. He knows that there is a mask of theory over
-the whole face of nature, if it be _theory_ to infer more
-than we _see_. But other men, unaware of this masquerade,
-hold it to be a fact that they see cubes and spheres,
-spacious apartments and winding avenues. And these things
-are facts to them, because they are unconscious of the
-mental operation by which they have penetrated nature's
-disguise.
-
-And thus, we still have an intelligible distinction of Fact
-and Theory, if we consider Theory as a conscious, and Fact
-as an unconscious inference, from the phenomena which are
-presented to our senses.
-
-But still, Theory and Fact, Inference and Perception,
-Reasoning and Observation, are antitheses in none of which
-can we separate the two members by any fixed and definite line.
-
-Even the simplest terms by which the antithesis is expressed
-cannot be separated. Ideas and Sensations, Thoughts and
-Things, Subject and Object, cannot in any case be applied
-absolutely and exclusively. Our Sensations require Ideas to
-bind them together, namely, Ideas of space, time, number,
-and the like. If not so bound together, Sensations do not
-give us any apprehension of Things or Objects. All Things,
-all Objects, must exist in space and in time--must be one or
-many. Now space, time, number, are not Sensations or Things.
-They are something different from, and opposed to Sensations
-and Things. We have termed them Ideas. It may be said they
-are _Relations_ of Things, or of Sensations. But granting
-this form of expression, still a _Relation_ is not a Thing
-or a {47} Sensation; and therefore we must still have
-another and opposite element, along with our Sensations. And
-yet, though we have thus these two elements in every act of
-perception, we cannot designate any portion of the act as
-absolutely and exclusively belonging to one of the elements.
-Perception involves Sensation, along with Ideas of time,
-space, and the like; or, if any one prefers the expression,
-we may say, Perception involves Sensations along with the
-apprehension of Relations. Perception is Sensation, along
-with such Ideas as make Sensation into an apprehension of
-Things or Objects.
-
-And as Perception of Objects implies Ideas,--as Observation
-implies Reasoning;--so, on the other hand, Ideas cannot
-exist where Sensation has not been; Reasoning cannot go on
-when there has not been previous Observation. This is
-evident from the necessary order of developement of the
-human faculties. Sensation necessarily exists from the first
-moments of our existence, and is constantly at work.
-Observation begins before we can suppose the existence of
-any Reasoning which is not involved in Observation. Hence,
-at whatever period we consider our Ideas, we must consider
-them as having been already engaged in connecting our
-Sensations, and as having been modified by this employment.
-By being so employed, our Ideas are unfolded and defined;
-and such developement and definition cannot be separated
-from the Ideas themselves. We cannot conceive space, without
-boundaries or forms; now Forms involve Sensations. We cannot
-conceive time, without events which mark the course of time;
-but events involve Sensations. We cannot conceive number,
-without conceiving things which are numbered; and Things
-imply sensations. And the forms, things, events, which are
-thus implied in our Ideas, having been the objects of
-Sensation constantly in every part of our life, have
-modified, unfolded, and fixed our Ideas, to an extent which
-we cannot estimate, but which we must suppose to be
-essential to the processes which at present go on in our
-minds. We cannot say that Objects create Ideas; for to
-perceive Objects we must already have Ideas. But we may {48}
-say, that Objects and the constant Perception of Objects
-have so far modified our Ideas, that we cannot, even in
-thought, separate our Ideas from the perception of Objects.
-
-We cannot say of any Ideas, as of the Idea of space, or
-time, or number, that they are absolutely and exclusively
-Ideas. We cannot conceive what space, or time, or number,
-would be in our minds, if we had never perceived any Thing
-or Things in space or time. We cannot conceive ourselves in
-such a condition as never to have perceived any Thing or
-Things in space or time. But, on the other hand, just as
-little can we conceive ourselves becoming acquainted with
-space and time or numbers as objects of Sensation. We cannot
-reason without having the operations of our minds affected
-by previous Sensations; but we cannot conceive Reasoning to
-be merely a series of Sensations. In order to be used in
-Reasoning, Sensation must become Observation; and, as we
-have seen, Observation already involves Reasoning. In order
-to be connected by our Ideas, Sensations must be Things or
-Objects, and Things or Objects already include Ideas. And
-thus, none of the terms by which the fundamental antithesis
-is expressed can be absolutely and exclusively applied.
-
-I will make a remark suggested by the views which have thus
-been presented. Since, as we have just seen, none of the
-terms which express the fundamental antithesis can be
-applied absolutely and exclusively, the absolute application
-of the antithesis in any particular case can never be a
-conclusive or immoveable principle. This remark is the more
-necessary to be borne in mind, as the terms of this
-antithesis are often used in a vehement and peremptory
-manner. Thus we are often told that such a thing is _a
-Fact_; A FACT and not a Theory, with all the emphasis which,
-in speaking or writing, tone or italics or capitals can
-give. We see from what has been said, that when this is
-urged, before we can estimate the truth, or the value of the
-assertion, we must ask to whom is it a Fact? what habits of
-thought, what previous information, what Ideas does it
-imply, to conceive the Fact as a Fact? {49} Does not the
-apprehension of the Fact imply assumptions which may with
-equal justice be called Theory, and which are perhaps false
-Theory? in which case, the Fact is no Fact. Did not the
-ancients assert it as a Fact, that the earth stood still,
-and the stars moved? and can any Fact have stronger apparent
-evidence to justify persons in asserting it emphatically
-than this had?
-
-These remarks are by no means urged in order to show that no
-Fact can be certainly known to be true; but only, to show
-that no Fact can be certainly shown to be a Fact, merely by
-calling it a Fact, however emphatically. There is by no
-means any ground of general skepticism with regard to truth,
-involved in the doctrine of the necessary combination of two
-elements in all our knowledge. On the contrary, Ideas are
-requisite to the essence, and Things to the reality of our
-knowledge in every case. The proportions of Geometry and
-Arithmetic are examples of knowledge respecting our Ideas of
-space and number, with regard to which there is no room for
-doubt. The doctrines of Astronomy are examples of truths not
-less certain respecting the Facts of the external world.
-
-
-_Sect._ 11.--_Successive Generalization._
-
-IN the preceding pages we have been led to the doctrine,
-that though, in the Antithesis of Theory and Fact, there is
-involved an essential opposition; namely the opposition of
-the thoughts within us and the phenomena without us; yet
-that we cannot distinguish and define the members of this
-antithesis separately. Theories become Facts, by becoming
-certain and familiar: and thus, as our knowledge becomes
-more sure and more extensive, we are constantly transferring
-to the class of facts, opinions which were at first regarded
-as theories.
-
-Now we have further to remark, that in the progress of human
-knowledge respecting any branch of speculation, there may be
-several such steps in succession, each depending upon and
-including the preceding. {50} The theoretical views which
-one generation of discoverers establishes, become the facts
-from which the next generation advances to new theories. As
-men rise from the particular to the general, so, in the same
-manner, they rise from what is general to what is more
-general. Each induction supplies the materials of fresh
-inductions; each generalization, with all that it embraces
-in its circle, may be found to be but one of many circles,
-comprehended within the circuit of some wider
-generalization.
-
-This remark has already been made, and illustrated, in the
-_History of the Inductive Sciences_[2\1]; and, in truth, the
-whole of the history of science is full of suggestions and
-exemplifications of this course of things. It may be
-convenient, however, to select a few instances which may
-further explain and confirm this view of the progress of
-scientific knowledge.
-
-[Note 2\1: _Hist. Inductive Sciences_, b. vii. c. ii. sect. 5.]
-
-The most conspicuous instance of this succession is to be
-found in that science which has been progressive from the
-beginning of the world to our own times, and which exhibits
-by far the richest collection of successive discoveries: I
-mean Astronomy. It is easy to see that each of these
-successive discoveries depended on those antecedently made,
-and that in each, the truths which were the highest point of
-the knowledge of one age were the fundamental basis of the
-efforts of the age which came next. Thus we find, in the
-days of Greek discovery, Hipparchus and Ptolemy combining
-and explaining the particular _facts_ of the motion of the
-sun, moon, and planets, by means of the _theory_ of
-epicycles and eccentrics;--a highly important step, which
-gave an intelligible connexion and rule to the motions of
-each of these luminaries. When these cycles and epicycles,
-thus truly representing the apparent motions of the heavenly
-bodies, had accumulated to an inconvenient amount, by the
-discovery of many inequalities in the observed motions,
-Copernicus showed that their effects might all be more
-simply included, by making the sun the center of motion of
-the planets, instead of {51} the earth. But in this new
-view, he still retained the epicycles and eccentrics which
-governed the motion of each body. Tycho Brahe's
-observations, and Kepler's calculations, showed that,
-besides the vast number of facts which the epicyclical
-theory could account for, there were some which it would not
-exactly include, and Kepler was led to the persuasion that
-the planets move in ellipses. But this view of motion was at
-first conceived by Kepler as a modification of the
-conception of epicycles. On one occasion he blames himself
-for not sooner seeing that such a modification was possible.
-'What an absurdity on my part!' he cries[3\1]; 'as if
-libration in the diameter of the epicycle might not come to
-the same thing as motion in the ellipse.' But again;
-Kepler's _laws_ of the elliptical motion of the planets were
-established; and these laws immediately became the _facts_
-on which the mathematicians had to found their mechanical
-theories. From these facts, Newton, as we have related,
-proved that the central force of the sun retains the planets
-in their orbits, according to the law of the inverse square
-of the distance. The same _law_ was shown to prevail in the
-gravitation of the earth. It was shown, too, by induction
-from the motions of Jupiter and Saturn, that the planets
-attract each other; by calculations from the figure of the
-earth, that the parts of the earth attract each other; and,
-by considering the course of the tides, that the sun and
-moon attract the waters of the ocean. And all these curious
-discoveries being established as _facts_, the subject was
-ready for another step of generalization. By an unparalleled
-rapidity in the progress of discovery in this case, not only
-were all the inductions which we have first mentioned made
-by one individual, but the new advance, the higher flight,
-the closing victory, fell to the lot of the same
-extraordinary person.
-
-[Note 3\1: _Hist. Inductive Sciences_, b. v. c. iv. sect. 3.]
-
-The attraction of the sun upon the planets, of the moon upon
-the earth, of the planets on each other, of the parts of the
-earth on themselves, of the sun and {52} moon upon the
-ocean;--all these truths, each of itself a great discovery,
-were included by Newton in the higher _generalization_, of
-the universal gravitation of matter, by which each particle
-is drawn to every other according to the law of the inverse
-square: and thus this long advance from discovery to
-discovery, from truths to truths, each justly admired when
-new, and then rightly used as old, was closed in a worthy
-and consistent manner, by a truth which is the most worthy
-admiration, because it includes all the researches of
-preceding ages of Astronomy.
-
-We may take another example of a succession of this kind
-from the history of a science, which, though it has made
-wonderful advances, has not yet reached its goal, as
-physical astronomy appears to have done, but seems to have
-before it a long prospect of future progress. I now refer to
-Chemistry, in which I shall try to point out how the
-preceding discoveries afforded the materials of the
-succeeding; although this subordination and connexion is, in
-this case, less familiar to men's minds than in Astronomy,
-and is, perhaps, more difficult to present in a clear and
-definite shape. Sylvius saw, in the facts which occur, when
-an acid and an alkali are brought together, the evidence
-that they neutralize each other. But cases of
-neutralization, and acidification, and many other effects of
-mixture of the ingredients of bodies, being thus viewed as
-_facts_, had an aspect of unity and law given them by
-Geoffroy and Bergman[4\1], who introduced the _conception_
-of the Chemical Affinity or Elective Attraction, by which
-certain elements select other elements, as if by preference.
-That combustion, whether a chemical union or a chemical
-separation of ingredients, is of the same nature with
-acidification, was the doctrine of Beccher and Stahl, and
-was soon established as a truth which must form a part of
-every succeeding physical theory. That the rules of affinity
-and chemical composition may include gaseous elements, was
-established by Black and Cavendish. And all these truths,
-thus brought to light by {53} chemical
-discoverers,--affinity, the identity of acidification and
-combustion, the importance of gaseous elements,--along with
-all the facts respecting the weight of ingredients and
-compounds which the balance disclosed,--were taken up,
-connected, and included as _particulars_ in the oxygen
-_theory_ of Lavoisier. Again, the results of this theory,
-and the quantity of the several ingredients which entered
-into each compound--(such results, for the most part, being
-now no longer mere theoretical speculations, but recognized
-facts)--were the _particulars_ from which Dalton derived
-that wide law of chemical combination which we term the
-Atomic _Theory_. And this law, soon generally accepted among
-chemists, is already in its turn become one of the _facts_
-included in Faraday's _Theory_ of the identity of Chemical
-Affinity and Electric Attraction.
-
-[Note 4\1: _Hist. Inductive Sciences_, b. xiv. c. iii.]
-
-It is unnecessary to give further exemplifications of this
-constant ascent from one step to a higher; this perpetual
-conversion of true theories into the materials of other and
-wider theories. It will hereafter be our business to
-exhibit, in a more full and formal manner, the mode in which
-this principle determines the whole scheme and structure of
-all the most exact sciences. And thus, beginning with the
-facts of sense, we gradually climb to the highest forms of
-human knowledge, and obtain from experience and observation
-a vast collection of the most wide and elevated truths.
-
-There are, however, truths of a very different kind, to
-which we must turn our attention, in order to pursue our
-researches respecting the nature and grounds of our
-knowledge. But before we do this, we must notice one more
-feature in that progress of science which we have already in
-part described.
-
-
-
-{{54}}
-CHAPTER II.
-
-OF TECHNICAL TERMS.
-
-
-1. IT has already been stated that we gather knowledge from
-the external world, when we are able to apply, to the facts
-which we observe, some ideal conception, which gives unity
-and connexion to multiplied and separate perceptions. We
-have also shown that our conceptions, thus verified by
-facts, may themselves be united and connected by a new bond
-of the same nature; and that man may thus have to pursue his
-way from truth to truth through a long progression of
-discoveries, each resting on the preceding, and rising above it.
-
-Each of these steps, in succession, is recorded, fixed, and
-made available, by some peculiar form of words; and such
-words, thus rendered precise in their meaning, and
-appropriated to the service of science, we may call
-_Technical Terms_. It is in a great measure by inventing
-such Terms that men not only best express the discoveries
-they have made, but also enable their followers to become so
-familiar with these discoveries, and to possess them so
-thoroughly, that they can readily use them in advancing to
-ulterior generalizations.
-
-Most of our ideal conceptions are described by exact and
-constant words or phrases, such as those of which we here
-speak. We have already had occasion to employ many of these.
-Thus we have had instances of technical Terms expressing
-geometrical conceptions, as _Ellipsis_, _Radius Vector_,
-_Axis_, _Plane_, the Proportion of the _Inverse Square_, and
-the like. Other Terms have described mechanical conceptions,
-as _Accelerating Force_ and _Attraction_. Again, chemistry
-exhibits (as do all sciences) a series of Terms which mark
-the steps of our {55} progress. The views of the first real
-founders of the science are recorded by the Terms which are
-still in use, _Neutral Salts_, _Affinity_, and the like. The
-establishment of Dalton's theory has produced the use of the
-word _Atom_ in a peculiar sense, or of some other word, as
-_Proportion_, in a sense equally technical. And Mr. Faraday
-has found it necessary, in order to expound his
-electro-chemical theory, to introduce such terms as _Anode_
-and _Cathode_, _Anïon_ and _Cathïon_.
-
-2. I need not adduce any further examples, for my object at
-present is only to point out the use and influence of such
-language: its rules and principles I shall hereafter try, in
-some measure, to fix. But what we have here to remark is,
-the extraordinary degree in which the progress of science is
-facilitated, by thus investing each new discovery with a
-compendious and steady form of expression. These terms soon
-become part of the current language of all who take an
-interest in speculation. However strange they may sound at
-first, they soon grow familiar in our ears, and are used
-without any effort, or any recollection of the difficulty
-they once involved. They become as common as the phrases
-which express our most frequent feelings and interests,
-while yet they have incomparably more precision than belongs
-to any terms which express feelings; and they carry with
-them, in their import, the results of deep and laborious
-trains of research. They convey the mental treasures of one
-period to the generations that follow; and laden with this,
-their precious freight, they sail safely across gulfs of
-time in which empires have suffered shipwreck, and the
-languages of common life have sunk into oblivion. We have
-still in constant circulation among us the Terms which
-belong to the geometry, the astronomy, the zoology, the
-medicine of the Greeks, and the algebra and chemistry of the
-Arabians. And we can in an instant, by means of a few words,
-call to our own recollection, or convey to the apprehension
-of another person, phenomena and relations of phenomena in
-optics, mineralogy, chemistry, which are so complex and
-abstruse, that it might seem to require the utmost subtlety
-of the human mind to {56} grasp them, even if that were made
-the sole object of its efforts. By this remarkable effect of
-Technical Language, we have the results of all the labours
-of past times not only always accessible, but so prepared
-that we may (provided we are careful in the use of our
-instrument) employ what is really useful and efficacious for
-the purpose of further success, without being in any way
-impeded or perplexed by the length and weight of the chain
-of past connexions which we drag along with us.
-
-By such means,--by the use of the Inductive Process, and by
-the aid of Technical Terms,--man has been constantly
-advancing in the path of scientific truth. In a succeeding
-part of this work we shall endeavour to trace the general
-rules of this advance, and to lay down the maxims by which
-it may be most successfully guided and forwarded. But in
-order that we may do this to the best advantage, we must
-pursue still further the analysis of knowledge into its
-elements; and this will be our employment in the first part
-of the work.
-
-
-
-{{57}}
-CHAPTER III.
-
-OF NECESSARY TRUTHS.
-
-
-1. EVERY advance in human knowledge consists, as we have
-seen, in adapting new ideal conceptions to ascertained
-facts, and thus in superinducing the Form upon the Matter,
-the active upon the passive processes of our minds. Every
-such step introduces into our knowledge an additional
-portion of the ideal element, and of those relations which
-flow from the nature of Ideas. It is, therefore, important
-for our purpose to examine more closely this element, and to
-learn what the relations are which may thus come to form
-part of our knowledge. An inquiry into those Ideas which
-form the foundations of our sciences;--into the reality,
-independence, extent, and principal heads of the knowledge
-which we thus acquire; is a task on which we must now enter,
-and which will employ us for several of the succeeding Books.
-
-In this inquiry our object will be to pass in review all the
-most important Fundamental Ideas which our sciences involve;
-and to prove more distinctly in reference to each, what we
-have already asserted with regard to all, that there are
-everywhere involved in our knowledge acts of the mind as
-well as impressions of sense; and that our knowledge
-derives, from these acts, a generality, certainty, and
-evidence which the senses could in no degree have supplied.
-But before I proceed to do this in particular cases, I will
-give some account of the argument in its general form.
-
-We have already considered the separation of our knowledge
-into its two elements,--Impressions of Sense and Ideas,--as
-evidently indicated by this; that all knowledge possesses
-characters which neither of these {58} elements alone could
-bestow. Without our ideas, our sensations could have no
-connexion; without external impressions, our ideas would
-have no reality; and thus both ingredients of our knowledge
-must exist.
-
-2. There is another mode in which the distinction of the two
-elements of knowledge appears, as I have already said (c. i.
-sect. 2): namely in the distinction of _necessary_, and
-_contingent_ or _experiential_, truths. For of these two
-classes of truths, the difference arises from this;--that
-the one class derives its nature from the one, and the other
-from the other, of the two elements of knowledge. I have
-already stated briefly the difference of these two kinds of
-truths:--namely, that the former are truths which, we see,
-must be true:--the latter are true, but so far as we can
-see, might be otherwise. The former are true necessarily and
-universally: the latter are learnt from experience and
-limited by experience. Now with regard to the former kind of
-truths, I wish to show that the universality and necessity
-which distinguish them can by no means be derived from
-experience; that these characters do in reality flow from
-the ideas which these truths involve; and that when the
-necessity of the truth is exhibited in the way of logical
-demonstration, it is found to depend upon certain
-fundamental principles, (Definitions and Axioms,) which may
-thus be considered as expressing, in some measure, the
-essential characters of our ideas. These fundamental
-principles I shall afterwards proceed to discuss and to
-exhibit in each of the principal departments of science.
-
-I shall begin by considering Necessary Truths more fully
-than I have yet done. As I have already said, necessary
-truths are those in which we not only learn, that the
-proposition _is_ true, but see that it _must be_ true; in
-which the negation of the truth is not only false, but
-impossible; in which we cannot, even by an effort of
-imagination, or in a supposition, conceive the reverse of
-that which is asserted.
-
-3. That there are such truths cannot be doubted. We may
-take, for example, all relations of number. Three and Two
-added together make Five. We cannot {59} conceive it to be
-otherwise. We cannot, by any freak of thought, imagine Three
-and Two to make Seven.
-
-It may be said that this assertion merely expresses what we
-mean by our words; that it is a matter of definition; that
-the proposition is an identical one.
-
-But this is by no means so. The definition of Five is not
-Three and Two, but Four and One. How does it appear that
-Three and Two is the same number as Four and One? It is
-evident that it is so; but _why_ is it evident?--not because
-the proposition is identical; for if that were the reason,
-all numerical propositions must be evident for the same
-reason. If it be a matter of definition that 3 and 2 make 5,
-it must be a matter of definition that 39 and 27 make 66.
-But who will say that the definition of 66 is 39 and 27? Yet
-the magnitude of the numbers can make no difference in the
-ground of the truth. How do we know that the product of 13
-and 17 is 4 less than the product of 15 and 15? We see that
-it is so, if we perform certain operations by the rules of
-arithmetic; but how do we know the truth of the rules of
-arithmetic? If we divide 123375 by 987 according to the
-process taught us at school, how are we assured that the
-result is correct, and that the number 125 thus obtained is
-really the number of times one number is contained in the
-other?
-
-The correctness of the rule, it may be replied, can be
-rigorously demonstrated. It can be shown that the process
-must inevitably give the true quotient.
-
-Certainly this can be shown to be the case. And precisely
-because it _can_ be shown that the result must be true, we
-have here an example of a necessary truth; and this truth,
-it appears, is not _therefore_ necessary because it is
-itself evidently identical, however it may be possible to
-prove it by reducing it to evidently identical propositions.
-And the same is the case with all other numerical
-propositions; for, as we have said, the nature of all of
-them is the same.
-
-Here, then, we have instances of truths which are not only
-true, but demonstrably and necessarily true. Now such truths
-are, in this respect at least, altogether {60} different
-from truths, which, however certain they may be, are learnt
-to be so only by the evidence of observation, interpreted,
-as observation must be interpreted, by our own mental
-faculties. There is no difficulty in finding examples of
-these merely observed truths. We find that sugar dissolves
-in water, and forms a transparent fluid, but no one will say
-that we can see any reason beforehand why the result _must_
-be so. We find that all animals which chew the cud have also
-the divided hoof; but could any one have predicted that this
-would be universally the case? or supposing the truth of the
-rule to be known, can any one say that he cannot conceive
-the facts as occurring otherwise? Water expands when it
-crystallizes, some other substances contract in the same
-circumstances; but can any one know that this will be so
-otherwise than by observation? We have here propositions
-_rigorously_ true, (we will assume,) but can any one say
-they are _necessarily_ true? These, and the great mass of
-the doctrines established by induction, are actual, but so
-far as we can see, accidental laws; results determined by
-some unknown selection, not demonstrable consequences of the
-essence of things, inevitable and perceived to be
-inevitable. According to the phraseology which has been
-frequently used by philosophical writers, they are
-_contingent_, not necessary truths.
-
-It is requisite to insist upon this opposition, because no
-insight can be obtained into the true nature of knowledge,
-and the mode of arriving at it, by any one who does not
-clearly appreciate the distinction. The separation of truths
-which are learnt by observation, and truths which can be
-seen to be true by a pure act of thought, is one of the
-first and most essential steps in our examination of the
-nature of truth, and the mode of its discovery. If any one
-does not clearly comprehend this distinction of necessary
-and contingent truths, he will not be able to go along with
-us in our researches into the foundations of human
-knowledge; nor, indeed, to pursue with success any
-speculation on the subject. But, in fact, this distinction
-is one that can hardly fail to be at once understood. It
-{61} is insisted upon by almost all the best modern, as well
-as ancient, metaphysicians[5\1], as of primary importance.
-And if any person does not fully apprehend, at first, the
-different kinds of truth thus pointed out, let him study, to
-some extent, those sciences which have necessary truth for
-their subject, as geometry, or the properties of numbers, so
-as to obtain a familiar acquaintance with such truth; and he
-will then hardly fail to see how different the evidence of
-the propositions which occur in these sciences, is from the
-evidence of the facts which are merely learnt from
-experience. That the year goes through its course in 365
-days, can only be known by observation of the sun or stars:
-that 365 days is 52 weeks and a day, it requires no
-experience, but only a little thought to perceive. That bees
-build their cells in the form of hexagons, we cannot know
-without looking at them; that regular hexagons may be
-arranged so as to fill space, may be proved with the utmost
-rigour, even if there were not in existence such a thing as
-a material hexagon.
-
-[Note 5\1: Aristotle, Dr Whately, Dugald Stewart, &c.]
-
-4. As I have already said, one mode in which we may express
-the difference of necessary truths and truths of experience,
-is, that necessary truths are those of which we cannot
-distinctly conceive the contrary. We can very readily
-conceive the contrary of experiential truths. We can
-conceive the stars moving about the pole or across the sky
-in any kind of curves with any velocities; we can conceive
-the moon always appearing during the whole month as a
-luminous disk, as she might do if her light were inherent
-and not borrowed. But we cannot conceive one of the
-parallelograms on the same base and between the same
-parallels larger than the other; for we find that, if we
-attempt to do this, when we separate the parallelograms into
-parts, we have to conceive one triangle larger than another,
-both having all their parts equal; which we cannot conceive
-at all, if we conceive the triangles distinctly. We make
-this impossibility more clear by conceiving {62} the
-triangles to be placed so that two sides of the one coincide
-with two sides of the other; and it is then seen, that in
-order to conceive the triangles unequal, we must conceive
-the two bases which have the same extremities both ways, to
-be different lines, though both straight lines. This it is
-impossible to conceive: we assent to the impossibility as an
-axiom, when it is expressed by saying, that two straight
-lines cannot inclose a space; and thus we cannot distinctly
-conceive the contrary of the proposition just mentioned
-respecting parallelograms.
-
-But it is necessary, in applying this distinction, to bear
-in mind the terms of it;--that we cannot _distinctly_
-conceive the contrary of a necessary truth. For in a certain
-loose, indistinct way, persons conceive the contrary of
-necessary geometrical truths, when they erroneously conceive
-false propositions to be true. Thus, Hobbes erroneously held
-that he had discovered a means of geometrically 'doubling
-the cube,' as it is called, that is, finding two mean
-proportionals between two given lines; a problem which
-cannot be solved by plane geometry. Hobbes not only proposed
-a construction for this purpose, but obstinately maintained
-that it was right, when it had been proved to be wrong. But
-then, the discussion showed how indistinct the geometrical
-conceptions of Hobbes were; for when his critics had proved
-that one of the lines in his diagram would not meet the
-other in the point which his reasoning supposed, but in
-another point near to it; he maintained, in reply, that one
-of these points was large enough to include the other, so
-that they might be considered as the same point. Such a mode
-of conceiving the opposite of a geometrical truth, forms no
-exception to the assertion, that this opposite cannot be
-distinctly conceived.
-
-In like manner, the indistinct conceptions of children and
-of rude savages do not invalidate the distinction of
-necessary and experiential truths. Children and savages make
-mistakes even with regard to numbers; and might easily
-happen to assert that 27 and 38 are equal to 63 or 64. But
-such mistakes cannot {63} make arithmetical truths cease to
-be necessary truths. When any person conceives these numbers
-and their addition distinctly, by resolving them into parts,
-or in any other way, he sees that their sum is necessarily
-65. If, on the ground of the possibility of children and
-savages conceiving something different, it be held that this
-is not a necessary truth, it must be held on the same
-ground, that it is not a necessary truth that 7 and 4 are
-equal to 11; for children and savages might be found so
-unfamiliar with numbers as not to reject the assertion that
-7 and 4 are 10, or even that 4 and 3 are 6, or 8. But I
-suppose that no persons would on such grounds hold that
-these arithmetical truths are truths known only by
-experience.
-
-5. I have taken examples of necessary truths from the
-properties of number and space; but such truths exist no
-less in other subjects, although the discipline of thought
-which is requisite to perceive them distinctly, may not be
-so usual among men with regard to the sciences of mechanics
-and hydrostatics, as it is with regard to the sciences of
-geometry and arithmetic. Yet every one may perceive that
-there are such truths in mechanics. If I press the table
-with my hand, the table presses my hand with an equal force:
-here is a self-evident and necessary truth. In any machine,
-constructed in whatever manner to increase the force which I
-can exert, it is certain that what I gain in force I must
-lose in the velocity which I communicate. This is not a
-contingent truth, borrowed from and limited by observation;
-for a man of sound mechanical views applies it with like
-confidence, however novel be the construction of the
-machine. When I come to speak of the ideas which are
-involved in our mechanical knowledge, I may, perhaps, be
-able to bring more clearly into view the necessary truth of
-general propositions on such subjects. That reaction is
-equal and opposite to action, is as necessarily true as that
-two straight lines cannot inclose a space; it is as
-impossible theoretically to make a perpetual motion by mere
-mechanism as to make the diagonal of a square commensurable
-with the side. {64}
-
-6. Necessary truths must be _universal_ truths. If any
-property belong to a right-angled triangle _necessarily_, it
-must belong to _all_ right-angled triangles. And it shall be
-proved in the following Chapter, that truths possessing
-these two characters, of Necessity and Universality, cannot
-possibly be the mere results of experience.
-
-[Necessary truths are not considered as a portion of the
-_Inductive_ Sciences. They are Deductions from our Ideas.
-Thus the necessary truths which constitute the Science of
-Geometry are Deductions from our Idea of Space: the
-necessary truths which constitute the Science of Arithmetic
-are Deductions from our notions of Number; which perhaps
-involves necessarily the Idea of Time. But though we do not
-call those Sciences _Inductive_ which involve properties of
-Space, Number and Time alone, the properties of Space, Time
-and Number enter in many very important ways into the
-Inductive Sciences; and therefore the Ideas of Space, Time
-and Number require to be considered in the first place. And
-moreover the examination of these Ideas is an essential step
-towards the examination of other Ideas: and the conditions
-of the possibility and certainty of truth, which are
-exemplified in Geometry and Arithmetic, open to us important
-views respecting the conditions of the possibility and
-certainty of all Scientific Truth. We shall therefore in the
-next Book examine the Ideas on which the Pure Sciences,
-Geometry and Arithmetic, are founded. But we must first say
-a little more of Ideas in general.]
-
-
-
-{{65}}
-CHAPTER IV.
-
-OF EXPERIENCE.
-
-
-1. I HERE employ the term Experience in a more definite and
-limited sense than that which it possesses in common usage;
-for I restrict it to matters belonging to the domain of
-science. In such cases, the knowledge which we acquire, by
-means of experience, is of a clear and precise nature; and
-the passions and feelings and interests, which make the
-lessons of experience in practical matters so difficult to
-read aright, no longer disturb and confuse us. We may,
-therefore, hope, by attending to such cases, to learn what
-efficacy experience really has, in the discovery of truth.
-
-That from _experience_ (including intentional experience, or
-_observation_,) we obtain much knowledge which is highly
-important, and which could not be procured from any other
-source, is abundantly clear. We have already taken several
-examples of such knowledge. We know by experience that
-animals which ruminate are cloven-hoofed; and we know this
-in no other manner. We know, in like manner, that all the
-planets and their satellites revolve round the sun from west
-to east. It has been found by experience that all meteoric
-stones contain chrome. Many similar portions of our
-knowledge might be mentioned.
-
-Now what we have here to remark is this;--that in no case
-can experience prove a proposition to be _necessarily_ or
-_universally_ true. However many instances we may have
-observed of the truth of a proposition, yet if it be known
-merely by observation, there is nothing to assure us that
-the next case shall not be an exception to the rule. If it
-be strictly true that every ruminant animal yet known has
-cloven hoofs, we {66} still cannot be sure that some
-creature will not hereafter be discovered which has the
-first of these attributes without having the other. When the
-planets and their satellites, as far as Saturn, had been all
-found to move round the sun in one direction, it was still
-possible that there might be other such bodies not obeying
-this rule; and, accordingly, when the satellites of Uranus
-were detected, they appeared to offer an exception of this
-kind. Even in the mathematical sciences, we have examples of
-such rules suggested by experience, and also of their
-precariousness. However far they may have been tested, we
-cannot depend upon their correctness, except we see some
-reason for the rule. For instance, various rules have been
-given, for the purpose of pointing out _prime numbers_; that
-is, those which cannot be divided by any other number. We
-may try, as an example of such a rule, this one--any odd
-power of the number two, diminished by one. Thus the third
-power of two, diminished by one, is seven; the fifth power,
-diminished by one, is thirty-one; the seventh power so
-diminished is one hundred and twenty-seven. All these are
-prime numbers: and we might be led to suppose that the rule
-is universal. But the next example shows us the
-fallaciousness of such a belief. The ninth power of two,
-diminished by one, is five hundred and eleven, which is not
-a prime, being divisible by seven.
-
-Experience must always consist of a limited number of
-observations. And, however numerous these may be, they can
-show nothing with regard to the infinite number of cases in
-which the experiment has not been made. Experience being
-thus unable to prove a fact to be universal, is, as will
-readily be seen, still more incapable of proving a truth to
-be necessary. Experience cannot, indeed, offer the smallest
-ground for the necessity of a proposition. She can observe
-and record what has happened; but she cannot find, in any
-case, or in any accumulation of cases, any reason for what
-must happen. She may see objects side by side; but she
-cannot see a reason why they must ever be side by side. She
-finds certain events to occur in succession; but the
-succession supplies, in its occurrence, no {67} reason for
-its recurrence. She contemplates external objects; but she
-cannot detect any internal bond, which indissolubly connects
-the future with the past, the possible with the real. To
-learn a proposition by experience, and to see it to be
-necessarily true, are two altogether different processes of
-thought.
-
-2. But it may be said, that we do learn by means of
-observation and experience many universal truths; indeed,
-all the general truths of which science consists. Is not the
-doctrine of universal gravitation learnt by experience? Are
-not the laws of motion, the properties of light, the general
-principles of chemistry, so learnt? How, with these examples
-before us, can we say that experience teaches no universal
-truths?
-
-To this we reply, that these truths can only be known to be
-general, not universal, if they depend upon experience
-alone. Experience cannot bestow that universality which she
-herself cannot have, and that necessity of which she has no
-comprehension. If these doctrines _are_ universally true,
-this universality flows from the _ideas_ which we apply to
-our experience, and which are, as we have seen, the real
-sources of necessary truth. How far these ideas can
-communicate their universality and necessity to the results
-of experience, it will hereafter be our business to
-consider. It will then appear, that when the mind collects
-from observation truths of a wide and comprehensive kind,
-which approach to the simplicity and universality of the
-truths of pure science; she gives them this character by
-throwing upon them the light of her own Fundamental Ideas.
-
-But the truths which we discover by observation of the
-external world, even when most strikingly simple and
-universal, are not necessary truths. Is the doctrine of
-universal gravitation necessarily true? It was doubted by
-Clairaut (so far as it refers to the moon), when the
-progression of the apogee in fact appeared to be twice as
-great as the theory admitted. It has been doubted, even more
-recently, with respect to the planets, their mutual
-perturbations appearing to indicate a deviation from the
-law. It is doubted still, by some {68} persons, with respect
-to the double stars. But suppose all these doubts to be
-banished, and the law to be universal; is it then proved to
-be necessary? Manifestly not: the very existence of these
-doubts proves that it is not so. For the doubts were
-dissipated by reference to observation and calculation, not
-by reasoning on the nature of the law. Clairaut's difficulty
-was removed by a more exact calculation of the effect of the
-sun's force on the motion of the apogee. The suggestion of
-Bessel, that the intensity of gravitation might be different
-for different planets, was found to be unnecessary, when
-Professor Airy gave a more accurate determination of the
-mass of Jupiter. And the question whether the extension of
-the law of the inverse square to the double stars be true,
-(one of the most remarkable questions now before the
-scientific world,) must be answered, not by any speculations
-concerning what the laws of attraction must necessarily be,
-but by carefully determining the actual laws of the motion
-of these curious objects, by means of the observations such
-as those which Sir John Herschel has collected for that
-purpose, by his unexampled survey of both hemispheres of the
-sky. And since the extent of this truth is thus to be
-determined by reference to observed facts, it is clear that
-no mere accumulation of them can make its universality
-certain, or its necessity apparent.
-
-Thus no knowledge of the necessity of any truths can result
-from the observation of what really happens. This being
-clearly understood, we are led to an important inquiry.
-
-The characters of universality and necessity in the truths
-which form part of our knowledge, can never be derived from
-experience, by which so large a part of our knowledge is
-obtained. But since, as we have seen, we really do possess a
-large body of truths which are necessary, and because
-necessary, therefore universal, the question still recurs,
-from what source these characters of universality and
-necessity are derived.
-
-The answer to this question we will attempt to give in the
-next chapter.
-
-
-
-{{69}}
-CHAPTER V.
-
-OF THE GROUNDS OF NECESSARY TRUTHS.
-
-
-1. TO the question just stated, I reply, that the necessity
-and universality of the truths which form a part of our
-knowledge, are derived from the _Fundamental Ideas_ which
-those truths involve. These ideas entirely shape and
-circumscribe our knowledge; they regulate the active
-operations of our minds, without which our passive
-sensations do not become knowledge. They govern these
-operations, according to rules which are not only fixed and
-permanent, but which may be expressed in plain and definite
-terms; and these rules, when thus expressed, may be made the
-basis of demonstrations by which the necessary relations
-imparted to our knowledge by our Ideas may be traced to
-their consequences in the most remote ramifications of
-scientific truth.
-
-These enunciations of the necessary and evident conditions
-imposed upon our knowledge by the Fundamental Ideas which it
-involves, are termed _Axioms_. Thus the Axioms of Geometry
-express the necessary conditions which result from the Idea
-of Space; the Axioms of Mechanics express the necessary
-conditions which flow from the Ideas of Force and Motion;
-and so on.
-
-2. It will be the office of several of the succeeding Books
-of this work to establish and illustrate in detail what I
-have thus stated in general terms. I shall there pass in
-review many of the most important fundamental ideas on which
-the existing body of our science depends; and I shall
-endeavour to show, for each such idea in succession, that
-knowledge involves an active as well as a passive element;
-that it is not possible without an act of the mind,
-regulated by certain {70} laws. I shall further attempt to
-enumerate some of the principal fundamental relations which
-each idea thus introduces into our thoughts, and to express
-them by means of definitions and axioms, and other suitable
-forms.
-
-I will only add a remark or two to illustrate further this
-view of the ideal grounds of our knowledge.
-
-3. To persons familiar with any of the demonstrative
-sciences, it will be apparent that if we state all the
-Definitions and Axioms which are employed in the
-demonstrations, we state the whole basis on which those
-reasonings rest. For the whole process of demonstrative or
-deductive reasoning in any science, (as in geometry, for
-instance,) consists entirely in combining some of these
-first principles so as to obtain the simplest propositions
-of the science; then combining these so as to obtain other
-propositions of greater complexity; and so on, till we
-advance to the most recondite demonstrable truths; these
-last, however intricate and unexpected, still involving no
-principles except the original definitions and axioms. Thus,
-by combining the Definition of a triangle, and the
-Definitions of equal lines and equal angles, namely, that
-they are such as when applied to each other, coincide, with
-the Axiom respecting straight lines (that two such lines
-cannot inclose a space,) we demonstrate the equality of
-triangles, under certain assumed conditions. Again, by
-combining this result with the Definition of parallelograms,
-and with the Axiom that if equals be taken from equals the
-wholes are equal, we prove the equality of parallelograms
-between the same parallels and upon the same base. From this
-proposition, again, we prove the equality of the square on
-the hypotenuse of a triangle to the squares on the two sides
-containing the right angle. But in all this there is nothing
-contained which is not rigorously the result of our
-geometrical Definitions and Axioms. All the rest of our
-treatises of geometry consists only of terms and phrases of
-reasoning, the object of which is to connect those first
-principles, and to exhibit the effects of their combination
-in the shape of demonstration. {71}
-
-4. This combination of first principles takes place
-according to the forms and rules of _Logic_. All the steps
-of the demonstration may be stated in the shape in which
-logicians are accustomed to exhibit processes of reasoning
-in order to show their conclusiveness, that is, in
-_Syllogisms_. Thus our geometrical reasonings might be
-resolved into such steps as the following:--
-All straight lines drawn from the centre of a circle to its
-circumference are equal:
-But the straight lines AB, AC, are drawn from the centre of
-a circle to its circumference:
-Therefore the straight lines AB, AC, are equal.
-
-Each step of geometrical, and all other demonstrative
-reasoning, may be resolved into three such clauses as these;
-and these three clauses are termed respectively, the _major
-premiss_, the _minor premiss_, and the _conclusion_; or,
-more briefly, the _major_, the _minor_, and the
-_**conclusion_.
-
-The principle which justifies the reasoning when exhibited
-in this syllogistic form, is this:--that a truth which can
-be asserted as generally, or rather as universally true, can
-be asserted as true also in each particular case. The
-_minor_ only asserts a certain particular case to be an
-example of such conditions as are spoken of in the _major_;
-and hence the conclusion, which is true of the major by
-supposition, is true of the minor by consequence; and thus
-we proceed from syllogism to syllogism, in each one
-employing some general truth in some particular instance.
-Any proof which occurs in geometry, or any other science of
-demonstration, may thus be reduced to a series of processes,
-in each of which we pass from some general proposition to
-the narrower and more special propositions which it
-includes. And this process of deriving truths by the mere
-combination of general principles, applied in particular
-hypothetical cases, is called _deduction_; being opposed to
-_induction_, in which, as we have seen (chap. i. sect. 3), a
-new general principle is introduced at every step.
-
-5. Now we have to remark that, this being so, however far we
-follow such deductive reasoning, we can {72} never have, in
-our conclusion any truth which is not virtually included in
-the original principles from which the reasoning started.
-For since at any step we merely take out of a general
-proposition something included in it, while at the preceding
-step we have taken this general proposition out of one more
-general, and so on perpetually, it is manifest that our last
-result was really included in the principle or principles
-with which we began. I say _principles_, because, although
-our logical conclusion can only exhibit the legitimate issue
-of our first principles, it may, nevertheless, contain the
-result of the combination of several such principles, and
-may thus assume a great degree of complexity, and may appear
-so far removed from the parent truths, as to betray at first
-sight hardly any relationship with them. Thus the
-proposition which has already been quoted respecting the
-squares on the sides of a right-angled triangle, contains
-the results of many elementary principles; as, the
-definitions of parallels, triangle, and square; the axioms
-respecting straight lines, and respecting parallels; and,
-perhaps, others. The conclusion is complicated by containing
-the effects of the combination of all these elements; but it
-contains nothing, and can contain nothing, but such elements
-and their combinations.
-
-This doctrine, that logical reasoning produces no new
-truths, but only unfolds and brings into view those truths
-which were, in effect, contained in the first principles of
-the reasoning, is assented to by almost all who, in modern
-times, have attended to the science of logic. Such a view is
-admitted both by those who defend, and by those who
-depreciate the value of logic. 'Whatever is established by
-reasoning, must have been contained and virtually asserted
-in the premises[6\1].' 'The only truth which such
-propositions can possess consists in conformity to the
-original principles.'
-
-[Note 6\1: Whately's _Logic_, pp. 237, 238.]
-
-In this manner the whole substance of our geometry is
-reduced to the Definitions and Axioms which we employ in our
-elementary reasonings; and in like {73} manner we reduce the
-demonstrative truths of any other science to the definitions
-and axioms which we there employ.
-
-6. But in reference to this subject, it has sometimes been
-said that demonstrative sciences do in reality depend upon
-Definitions only; and that no additional kind of principle,
-such as we have supposed Axioms to be, is absolutely
-required. It has been asserted that in geometry, for
-example, the source of the necessary truth of our
-propositions is this, that they depend upon definitions
-alone, and consequently merely state the identity of the
-same thing under different aspects.
-
-That in the sciences which admit of demonstration, as
-geometry, mechanics, and the like, Axioms as well as
-Definitions are needed, in order to express the grounds of
-our necessary convictions, must be shown hereafter by an
-examination of each of these sciences in particular. But
-that the propositions of these sciences, those of geometry
-for example, do not merely assert the identity of the same
-thing, will, I think, be generally allowed, if we consider
-the assertions which we are enabled to make. When we declare
-that 'a straight line is the shortest distance between two
-points,' is this merely an identical proposition? the
-definition of a straight line in another form? Not so: the
-definition of a straight line involves the notion of form
-only, and does not contain anything about magnitude;
-consequently, it cannot contain anything equivalent to
-'shortest.' Thus the propositions of geometry are not merely
-identical propositions; nor have we in their general
-character anything to countenance the assertion, that they
-are the results of definitions alone. And when we come to
-examine this and other sciences more closely, we shall find
-that axioms, such as are usually in our treatises made the
-fundamental principles of our demonstrations, neither have
-ever been, nor can be, dispensed with. Axioms, as well as
-Definitions, are in all cases requisite, in order properly
-to exhibit the grounds of necessary truth.
-
-7. Thus the real logical basis of every body of demonstrated
-truths are the Definitions and Axioms {74} which are the
-first principles of the reasonings. But when we are arrived
-at this point, the question further occurs, what is the
-ground of the truth of these Axioms? It is not the logical,
-but the philosophical, not the formal, but the real
-foundation of necessary truth, which we are seeking. Hence
-this inquiry necessarily comes before us, What is the ground
-of the Axioms of Geometry, of Mechanics, and of any other
-demonstrable science?
-
-The answer which we are led to give, by the view which we
-have taken of the nature of knowledge, has already been
-stated. The ground of the axioms belonging to each science
-is the _Idea_ which the axiom involves. The ground of the
-Axioms of Geometry is the _Idea of Space_: the ground of the
-Axioms of Mechanics is the _Idea of Force_, of _Action_ and
-_Reaction_, and the like. And hence these Ideas are
-Fundamental Ideas; and since they are thus the foundations,
-not only of demonstration but of truth, an examination into
-their real import and nature is of the greatest consequence
-to our purpose.
-
-8. Not only the Axioms, but the definitions which form the
-basis of our reasonings, depend upon our Fundamental Ideas.
-And the Definitions are not arbitrary definitions, but are
-determined by a necessity no less rigorous than the Axioms
-themselves. We could not think of geometrical truths without
-conceiving a circle; and we could not reason concerning such
-truths without defining a circle in some mode equivalent to
-that which is commonly adopted. The Definitions of
-parallels, of right angles, and the like, are quite as
-necessarily prescribed by the nature of the case, as the
-Axioms which these Definitions bring with them. Indeed we
-may substitute one of these kinds of principles for another.
-We cannot always put a Definition in the place of an Axiom;
-but we may always find an Axiom which shall take the place
-of a Definition. If we assume a proper Axiom respecting
-straight lines, we need no Definition of a straight line.
-But in whatever shape the principle appear, as Definition or
-as Axiom, it has about it nothing casual or {75} arbitrary,
-but is determined to be what it is, as to its import, by the
-most rigorous necessity, growing out of the Idea of Space.
-
-9. These principles,--Definitions, and Axioms,--thus
-exhibiting the primary developments of a fundamental idea,
-do in fact express the idea, so far as its expression in
-words forms part of our science. They are different views of
-the same body of truth; and though each principle, by
-itself, exhibits only one aspect of this body, taken
-together they convey a sufficient conception of it for our
-purposes. The Idea itself cannot be fixed in words; but
-these various lines of truth proceeding from it, suggest
-sufficiently to a fitly-prepared mind, the place where the
-idea resides, its nature, and its efficacy.
-
-It is true that these principles,--our elementary
-Definitions and Axioms,--even taken all together, express
-the Idea incompletely. Thus the Definitions and Axioms of
-Geometry, as they are stated in our elementary works, do not
-fully express the Idea of Space as it exists in our minds.
-For, in addition to these, other Axioms, independent of
-these, and no less evident, can be stated; and are in fact
-stated when we come to the Higher Geometry. Such, for
-instance, is the Axiom of Archimedes--that a curve line
-which joins two points is less than a broken line which
-joins the same points and includes the curve. And thus the
-Idea is disclosed but not fully revealed, imparted but not
-transfused, by the use we make of it in science. When we
-have taken from the fountain so much as serves our purpose,
-there still remains behind a deep well of truth, which we
-have not exhausted, and which we may easily believe to be
-inexhaustible.
-
-
-
-{{76}}
-CHAPTER VI.
-
-THE FUNDAMENTAL IDEAS ARE NOT DERIVED FROM EXPERIENCE.
-
-
-1. BY the course of speculation contained in the last three
-Chapters, we are again led to the conclusion which we have
-already stated, that our knowledge contains an ideal
-element, and that this element is not derived from
-experience. For we have seen that there are propositions
-which are known to be necessarily true; and that such
-knowledge is not, and cannot be, obtained by mere
-observation of actual facts. It has been shown, also, that
-these necessary truths are the results of certain
-fundamental ideas, such as those of space, number, and the
-like. Hence it follows inevitably that these ideas and
-others of the same kind are not derived from experience. For
-these ideas possess a power of infusing into their
-developments that very necessity which experience can in no
-way bestow. This power they do not borrow from the external
-world, but possess by their own nature. Thus we unfold out
-of the Idea of Space the propositions of geometry, which are
-plainly truths of the most rigorous necessity and
-universality. But if the idea of space were merely collected
-from observation of the external world, it could never
-enable or entitle us to assert such propositions: it could
-never authorize us to say that not merely some lines, but
-_all_ lines, not only have, but _must_ have, those
-properties which geometry teaches. Geometry in every
-proposition speaks a language which experience never dares
-to utter; and indeed of which she but half comprehends the
-meaning. Experience sees that the assertions are true, but
-she sees not how profound and absolute is their truth. {77}
-She unhesitatingly assents to the laws which geometry
-delivers, but she does not pretend to see the origin of
-their obligation. She is always ready to acknowledge the
-sway of pure scientific principles as a matter of fact, but
-she does not dream of offering her opinion on their
-authority as a matter of right; still less can she justly
-claim to be herself the source of that authority.
-
-David Hume asserted[7\1], that we are incapable of seeing in
-any of the appearances which the world presents anything of
-necessary connexion; and hence he inferred that our
-knowledge cannot extend to any such connexion. It will be
-seen from what we have said that we assent to his remark as
-to the fact, but we differ from him altogether in the
-consequence to be drawn from it. Our inference from Hume's
-observation is, not the truth of his conclusion, but the
-falsehood of his premises;--not that, therefore, we can know
-nothing of natural connexion, but that, therefore, we have
-some other source of knowledge than experience:--not, that
-we can have no idea of connexion or causation, because, in
-his language, it cannot be the copy of an impression; but
-that since we have such an idea, our ideas are not the
-copies of our impressions.
-
-[Note 7\1: _Essays_, vol. ii. p. 70.]
-
-Since it thus appears that our fundamental ideas are not
-acquired from the external world by our senses, but have
-some separate and independent origin, it is important for us
-to examine their nature and properties, as they exist in
-themselves; and this it will be our business to do through a
-portion of the following pages. But it may be proper first
-to notice one or two objections which may possibly occur to
-some readers.
-
-2. It may be said that without the use of our senses, of
-sight and touch, for instance, we should never have any idea
-of space; that this idea, therefore, may properly be said to
-be derived from those senses. And to this I reply, by
-referring to a parallel instance. Without light we should
-have no perception of visible {78} figure; yet the power of
-perceiving visible figure cannot be said to be derived from
-the light, but resides in the structure of the eye. If we
-had never seen objects in the light, we should be quite
-unaware that we possessed a power of vision; yet we should
-not possess it the less on that account. If we had never
-exercised the senses of sight and touch (if we can conceive
-such a state of human existence) we know not that we should
-be conscious of an idea of space. But the light reveals to
-us at the same time the existence of external objects and
-our own power of seeing. And in a very similar manner, the
-exercise of our senses discloses to us, at the same time,
-the external world, and our own ideas of space, time, and
-other conditions, without which the external world can
-neither be observed nor conceived. That light is necessary
-to vision, does not, in any degree, supersede the importance
-of a separate examination of the laws of our visual powers,
-if we would understand the nature of our own bodily
-faculties and the extent of the information they can give
-us. In like manner, the fact that intercourse with the
-external world is necessary for the conscious employment of
-our ideas, does not make it the less essential for us to
-examine those ideas in their most intimate structure, in
-order that we may understand the grounds and limits of our
-knowledge. Even before we see a single object, we have a
-faculty of vision; and in like manner, if we can suppose a
-man who has never contemplated an object in space or time,
-we must still assume him to have the faculties of
-entertaining the ideas of space and time, which faculties
-are called into play on the very first occasion of the use
-of the senses.
-
-3. In answer to such remarks as the above, it has sometimes
-been said that to assume separate faculties in the mind for
-so many different processes of thought, is to give a mere
-verbal explanation, since we learn nothing concerning our
-idea of space by being told that we have a faculty of
-forming such an idea. It has been said that this course of
-explanation leads to an endless multiplication of elements
-in man's nature, without any advantage to our knowledge of
-his true {79} constitution. We may, it is said, assert man
-to have a faculty of walking, of standing, of breathing, of
-speaking; but what, it is asked, is gained by such
-assertions? To this I reply, that we undoubtedly have such
-faculties as those just named; that it is by no means
-unimportant to consider them; and that the main question in
-such cases is, whether they are separate and independent
-faculties, or complex and derivative ones; and, if the
-latter be the case, what are the simple and original
-faculties by the combination of which the others are
-produced. In walking, standing, breathing, for instance, a
-great part of the operation can be reduced to one single
-faculty; the voluntary exercise of our muscles. But in
-breathing this does not appear to be the whole of the
-process. The operation is, in part at least, involuntary;
-and it has been held that there is a certain sympathetic
-action of the nerves, in addition to the voluntary agency
-which they transmit, which is essential to the function. To
-determine whether or no this sympathetic faculty is real and
-distinct, and if so, what are its laws and limits, is
-certainly a highly philosophical inquiry, and well deserving
-the attention which has been bestowed upon it by eminent
-physiologists. And just of the same nature are the inquiries
-with respect to man's intellectual constitution, on which we
-propose to enter. For instance, man has a faculty of
-apprehending time, and a faculty of reckoning numbers: are
-these distinct, or is one faculty derived from the other? To
-analyze the various combinations of our ideas and
-observations into the original faculties which they involve;
-to show that these faculties are original, and not capable
-of further analysis: to point out the characters which mark
-these faculties and lead to the most important features of
-our knowledge;--these are the kind of researches on which we
-have now to enter, and these, we trust, will be found to be
-far from idle or useless parts of our plan. If we succeed in
-such attempts, it will appear that it is by no means a
-frivolous or superfluous step to distinguish separate
-faculties in the mind. If we do not learn much by being told
-that we have a faculty {80} of forming the idea of space, we
-at least, by such a commencement, circumscribe a certain
-portion of the field of our investigations, which, we shall
-afterwards endeavour to show, requires and rewards a special
-examination. And though we shall thus have to separate the
-domain of our philosophy into many provinces, these are, as
-we trust it will appear, neither arbitrarily assigned, nor
-vague in their limits, nor infinite in number.
-
-
-
-{{81}}
-CHAPTER VII.
-
-OF THE PHILOSOPHY OF THE SCIENCES.
-
-
-WE proceed, in the ensuing Books, to the closer examination
-of a considerable number of those Fundamental Ideas on which
-the sciences, hitherto most successfully cultivated, are
-founded. In this task, our objects will be to explain and
-analyze such Ideas so as to bring into view the Definitions
-and Axioms, or other forms, in which we may clothe the
-conditions to which our speculative knowledge is subjected.
-I shall also try to prove, for some of these Ideas in
-particular, what has been already urged respecting them in
-general, that they are not derived from observation, but
-necessarily impose their conditions upon that knowledge of
-which observation supplies the materials. I shall further,
-in some cases, endeavour to trace the history of these Ideas
-as they have successively come into notice in the progress
-of science; the gradual development by which they have
-arrived at their due purity and clearness; and, as a
-necessary part of such a history, I shall give a view of
-some of the principal controversies which have taken place
-with regard to each portion of knowledge.
-
-An exposition and discussion of the Fundamental Ideas of
-each Science may, with great propriety, be termed the
-PHILOSOPHY OF such SCIENCE. These ideas contain in
-themselves the elements of those truths which the science
-discovers and enunciates; and in the progress of the
-sciences, both in the world at large and in the mind of each
-individual student, the most important steps consist in
-apprehending these ideas clearly, and in bringing them into
-accordance with the observed facts. I shall, therefore, in a
-series of Books, {82} treat of the _Philosophy of the Pure
-Sciences_, the _Philosophy of the Mechanical Sciences_, the
-_Philosophy of Chemistry_, and the like, and shall analyze
-and examine the ideas which these sciences respectively
-involve.
-
-In this undertaking, inevitably somewhat long, and involving
-many deep and subtle discussions, I shall take, as a chart
-of the country before me, by which my course is to be
-guided, the scheme of the sciences which I was led to form
-by travelling over the history of each in order[8\1]. Each
-of the sciences of which I then narrated the progress,
-depends upon several of the Fundamental Ideas of which I
-have to speak: some of these Ideas are peculiar to one field
-of speculation, others are common to more. A previous
-enumeration of Ideas thus collected may serve both to show
-the course and limits of this part of our plan, and the
-variety of interest which it offers.
-
-[Note 8\1: _History of the Inductive Sciences._]
-
-I shall, then, successively, have to speak Of the Ideas
-which are the foundation of Geometry and Arithmetic, (and
-which also regulate all sciences depending upon these, as
-Astronomy and Mechanics;) namely, the Ideas of _Space_,
-_Time_, and _Number_ (Book II.):
-
-Of the Ideas on which the Mechanical Sciences (as Mechanics,
-Hydrostatics, Physical Astronomy) more peculiarly rest; the
-ideas of _Force_ and _Matter_, or rather the idea of
-_Cause_, which is the basis of these (Book III.):
-
-Of the Ideas which the Secondary Mechanical Sciences
-(Acoustics, Optics, and Thermotics) involve; namely, the
-Ideas of the _Externality_ of objects, and of the _Media_ by
-which we perceive their qualities (Book IV.):
-
-Of the Ideas which are the basis of Mechanico-chemical and
-Chemical Science; _Polarity_, _Chemical Affinity_, and
-_Substance_; and the Idea of _Symmetry_, a necessary part of
-the Philosophy of Crystallography (Books V. VI.):
-
-Of the Ideas on which the Classificatory Sciences proceed
-(Mineralogy, Botany, and Zoology); namely, {83} the Ideas of
-_Resemblance_, and of its gradations, and of _Natural
-Affinity_ (Books VII. VIII.):
-
-Finally, of those Ideas on which the Physiological Sciences
-are founded; the Ideas of separate Vital Powers, such as
-_Assimilation_ and _Irritability_; and the Idea of _Final
-Cause_ (Book IX.):
-
-We have, besides these, the Palætiological Sciences, which
-proceed mainly on the conception of _Historical Causation_
-(Book X.):
-
-It is plain that when we have proceeded so far as this, we
-have advanced to the verge of those speculations which have
-to do with mind as well as body. The extension of our
-philosophy to such a field, if it can be justly so extended,
-will be one of the most important results of our researches;
-but on that very account we must fully study the lessons
-which we learn in those fields of speculation where our
-doctrines are most secure, before we venture into a region
-where our principles will appear to be more precarious, and
-where they are inevitably less precise.
-
-We now proceed to the examination of the above Ideas, and to
-such essays towards the philosophy of each Science as this
-course of investigation may suggest.
-
-
-
-{{85}}
-BOOK II.
-
-
-THE
-PHILOSOPHY
-OF THE
-PURE SCIENCES.
-
-
-
-
-The way in which we are led to regard human knowledge is
-like the way in which Copernicus was led to regard the
-heavens. When the explanation of the celestial motions could
-not be made to go right so long as he assumed that all the
-host of stars turns round the spectator, he tried whether it
-would not answer better if he made the spectator turn, and
-left the stars at rest. We may make a similar trial in
-Metaphysics, as to our way of looking at objects. If our
-view of them must be governed altogether by the properties
-of the objects themselves, I see not how man can know
-anything about them _à priori_. But if the thing, as an
-object of the senses, is regulated by the constitution of
-our power of knowing, I can very readily represent to myself
-this possibility.
-
-KANT, _Kritik d. R. V. Pref._
-
-
-{{87}}
-BOOK II.
-
-THE PHILOSOPHY OF THE PURE SCIENCES.
-
-
-[The principal question discussed in the last Book was this
-(see chaps. V. and VI.): How are _necessary_ and _universal_
-truths possible? And the answer then given was: that the
-necessity and universality of truths are derived from the
-_Fundamental Ideas_ which they involve. And we proceed in
-this Book to exemplify this doctrine in the case of the
-truths of Geometry and Arithmetic, which derive their
-necessity and universality from the Fundamental Ideas of
-Space, and Time, or Number.
-
-The question thus examined is that which Kant undertook to
-deal with in his celebrated work, _Kritik der reinen
-Vernunft_ (_Examination of the Pure Reason_): and our
-solution of the Problem, so far as the Ideas of Space and
-Time are concerned, agrees in the main with his. The
-arguments contained in chapters II. and **VII. of this Book,
-are the leading arguments respecting Space and Time, in
-Kant's _Kritik_. Kant, however, instead of calling Space and
-Time _Ideas_, calls them the necessary _Forms_ of our
-experience, as I have stated in the text.
-
-But though I have adopted Kant's arguments as to Space and
-Time, all that follows in the succeeding Books, with regard
-to other Ideas, has no resemblance to any doctrines of Kant
-or his school (with the exception, perhaps, of some of the
-views on the Idea of _Cause_). The nature and character of
-the other Scientific Ideas which I have examined, in the
-succeeding Books, have been established by an analysis of
-the history of the several Sciences to which those Ideas are
-essential, and an examination of the writings of the
-principal discoverers in those Sciences.]
-
-
-
-{{88}}
-CHAPTER I.
-
-OF THE PURE SCIENCES.
-
-
-1. ALL external objects and events which we can contemplate
-are viewed as having relations of Space, Time, and Number;
-and are subject to the general conditions which these Ideas
-impose, as well as to the particular laws which belong to
-each class of objects and occurrences. The special laws of
-nature, considered under the various aspects which
-constitute the different sciences, are obtained by a mixed
-reference to Experience and to the Fundamental Ideas of each
-science. But besides the sciences thus formed by the aid of
-special experience, the conditions which flow from those
-more comprehensive ideas first mentioned, Space, Time, and
-Number, constitute a body of science, applicable to objects
-and changes of all kinds, and deduced without recurrence
-being had to any observation in particular. These sciences,
-thus unfolded out of ideas alone, unmixed with any reference
-to the phenomena of matter, are hence termed _Pure_
-Sciences. The principal sciences of this class are Geometry,
-Theoretical Arithmetic, and Algebra considered in its most
-general sense, as the investigation of the relations of
-space and number by means of general symbols.
-
-2. These Pure Sciences were not included in our survey of
-the history of the sciences, because they are not
-_inductive_ sciences. Their progress has not consisted in
-collecting laws from phenomena, true theories from observed
-facts, and more general from more limited laws; but in
-tracing the consequences of the ideas themselves, and in
-detecting the most general and intimate analogies and
-connexions which prevail {89} among such conceptions as are
-derivable from the ideas. These sciences have no principles
-besides definitions and axioms, and no process of proof but
-_deduction_; this process, however, assuming here a most
-remarkable character; and exhibiting a combination of
-simplicity and complexity, of rigour and generality, quite
-unparalleled in other subjects.
-
-3. The universality of the truths, and the rigour of the
-demonstrations of these pure sciences, attracted attention
-in the earliest times; and it was perceived that they
-offered an exercise and a discipline of the intellectual
-faculties, in a form peculiarly free from admixture of
-extraneous elements. They were strenuously cultivated by the
-Greeks, both with a view to such a discipline, and from the
-love of speculative truth which prevailed among that people:
-and the name _mathematics_, by which they are designated,
-indicates this their character of _disciplinal_ studies.
-
-4. As has already been said, the ideas which these sciences
-involve extend to all the objects and changes which we
-observe in the external world; and hence the consideration
-of mathematical relations forms a large portion of many of
-the sciences which treat of the phenomena and laws of
-external nature, as Astronomy, Optics, and Mechanics. Such
-sciences are hence often termed _Mixed Mathematics_, the
-relations of space and number being, in these branches of
-knowledge, combined with principles collected from special
-observation; while Geometry, Algebra, and the like subjects,
-which involve no result of experience, are called _Pure
-Mathematics_.
-
-5. Space, time, and number, may be conceived as _forms_ by
-which the knowledge derived from our sensations is moulded,
-and which are independent of the differences in the _matter_
-of our knowledge, arising from the sensations themselves.
-Hence the sciences which have these ideas for their subject
-may be termed _Formal Sciences_. In this point of view, they
-are distinguished from sciences in which, besides these mere
-formal laws by which appearances are corrected, we endeavour
-to apply to the phenomena the idea of cause, {90} or some of
-the other ideas which penetrate further into the principles
-of nature. We have thus, in the History, distinguished
-Formal Astronomy and Formal Optics from Physical Astronomy
-and Physical Optics.
-
-We now proceed to our examination of the Ideas which
-constitute the foundation of these formal or pure
-mathematical sciences, beginning with the Idea of Space.
-
-
-
-{{91}}
-CHAPTER II.
-
-OF THE IDEA OF SPACE.
-
-
-1. BY speaking of space as an Idea, I intend to imply, as
-has already been stated, that the apprehension of objects as
-existing in space, and of the relations of position, &c.,
-prevailing among them, is not a consequence of experience,
-but a result of a peculiar constitution and activity of the
-mind, which is independent of all experience in its origin,
-though constantly combined with experience in its exercise.
-
-That the idea of space is thus independent of experience,
-has already been pointed out in speaking of ideas in
-general: but it may be useful to illustrate the doctrine
-further in this particular case.
-
-I assert, then, that space is not a notion obtained by
-experience. Experience gives us information concerning
-things without us: but our apprehending them _as_ without
-us, takes for granted their existence in space. Experience
-acquaints us what are the form, position, magnitude of
-particular objects: but that they have form, position,
-magnitude, presupposes that they are in space. We cannot
-derive from appearances, by the way of observation, the
-habit of representing things to ourselves as in space; for
-no single act of observation is possible any otherwise than
-by beginning with such a representation, and conceiving
-objects as already existing in space.
-
-2. That our mode of representing space to ourselves is not
-derived from experience, is clear also from this: that
-through this mode of representation we arrive at
-propositions which are rigorously universal and necessary.
-Propositions of such a kind could not possibly be obtained
-from experience; for experience can {92} only teach us by a
-limited number of examples, and therefore can never securely
-establish a universal proposition: and again, experience can
-only inform us that anything is so, and can never prove that
-it must be so. That two sides of a triangle are greater than
-the third is a universal and necessary geometrical truth: it
-is true of all triangles; it is true in such a way that the
-contrary cannot be conceived. Experience could not prove
-such a proposition. And experience has not proved it; for
-perhaps no man ever made the trial as a means of removing
-doubts: and no trial could, in fact, add in the smallest
-degree to the certainty of this truth. To seek for proof of
-geometrical propositions by an appeal to observation proves
-nothing in reality, except that the person who has recourse
-to such grounds has no due apprehension of the nature of
-geometrical demonstration. We have heard of persons who
-convinced themselves by measurement that the geometrical
-rule respecting the squares on the sides of a right-angled
-triangle was true: but these were persons whose minds had
-been engrossed by practical habits, and in whom the
-speculative development of the idea of space had been
-stifled by other employments. The practical trial of the
-rule may illustrate, but cannot prove it. The rule will of
-course be confirmed by such trial, because what is true in
-general is true in particular: but the rule cannot be proved
-from any number of trials, for no accumulation of particular
-cases makes up a universal case. To all persons who can see
-the force of any proof, the geometrical rule above referred
-to is as evident, and its evidence as independent of
-experience, as the assertion that sixteen and nine make
-twenty-five. At the same time, the truth of the geometrical
-rule is quite independent of numerical truths, and results
-from the relations of space alone. This could not be if our
-apprehension of the relations of space were the fruit of
-experience: for experience has no element from which such
-truth and such proof could arise.
-
-3. Thus the existence of necessary truths, such as those of
-geometry, proves that the idea of space from {93} which they
-flow is not derived from experience. Such truths are
-inconceivable on the supposition of their being collected
-from observation; for the impressions of sense include no
-evidence of necessity. But we can readily understand the
-necessary character of such truths, if we conceive that
-there are certain necessary conditions under which alone the
-mind receives the impressions of sense. Since these
-conditions reside in the constitution of the mind, and apply
-to every perception of an object to which the mind can
-attain, we easily see that their rules must include, not
-only all that has been, but all that can be, matter of
-experience. Our sensations can each convey no information
-except about itself; each can contain no trace of another
-additional sensation; and thus no relation and connexion
-between two sensations can be given by the sensations
-themselves. But the mode in which the mind perceives these
-impressions as objects, may and will introduce necessary
-relations among them: and thus by conceiving the idea of
-space to be a condition of perception in the mind, we can
-conceive the existence of necessary truths, which apply to
-all perceived objects.
-
-4. If we consider the impressions of sense as the mere
-materials of our experience, such materials may be
-accumulated in any quantity and in any order. But if we
-suppose that this matter has a certain form given it, in the
-act of being accepted by the mind, we can understand how it
-is that these materials are subject to inevitable
-rules;--how nothing can be perceived exempt from the
-relations which belong to such a form. And since there are
-such truths applicable to our experience, and arising from
-the nature of space, we may thus consider space as a _form_
-which the materials given by experience necessarily assume
-in the mind; as an arrangement derived from the perceiving
-mind, and not from the sensations alone.
-
-5. Thus this phrase,--that space is a _form_ belonging to
-our perceptive power,--may be employed to express that we
-cannot perceive objects as in space, without an operation of
-the mind as well as of the senses--without active as well as
-passive faculties. This phrase, however, {94} is not
-necessary to the exposition of our doctrines. Whether we
-call the conception of space a Condition of perception, a
-Form of perception, or an Idea, or by any other term, it is
-something originally inherent in the mind perceiving, and
-not in the objects perceived. And it is because the
-apprehension of all objects is thus subjected to certain
-mental conditions, forms or ideas, that our knowledge
-involves certain inviolable relations and necessary truths.
-The principles of such truths, so far as they regard space,
-are derived from the idea of space, and we must endeavour to
-exhibit such principles in their general form. But before we
-do this, we may notice some of the conditions which belong,
-not to our Ideas in general, but to this Idea of Space in
-particular.
-
-
-
-{{95}}
-CHAPTER III.
-
-OF SOME PECULIARITIES OF THE IDEA OF SPACE.
-
-
-1. SOME of the Ideas which we shall have to examine involve
-conceptions of certain relations of objects, as the idea of
-Cause and of Likeness; and may appear to be suggested by
-experience, enabling us to _abstract_ this general relation
-from particular cases. But it will be seen that Space is not
-such a general conception of a relation. For we do not speak
-of _Spaces_ as we speak of Causes and Likenesses, but of
-Space. And when we speak of _spaces_, we understand by the
-expression, parts of one and the same identical
-everywhere-extended Space. We conceive a universal Space;
-which is not made up of these partial spaces as its
-component parts, for it would remain if these were taken
-away; and these cannot be conceived without presupposing
-absolute space. Absolute Space is essentially one; and the
-complication which exists in it, and the conception of
-various spaces, depends merely upon boundaries. Space must,
-therefore, be, as we have said, not a general conception
-abstracted from particulars, but a universal mode of
-representation, altogether independent of experience.
-
-2. Space is infinite. We represent it to ourselves as an
-infinitely great magnitude. Such an idea as that of Likeness
-or Cause, is, no doubt, found in an infinite number of
-particular cases, and so far includes these cases. But these
-ideas do not include an infinite number of cases as parts of
-an infinite whole. When we say that all bodies and partial
-spaces exist _in_ infinite space, we use an expression which
-is not applied in the same sense to any cases except those
-of Space and Time. {96}
-
-3. What is here said may appear to be a denial of the real
-existence of space. It must be observed, however, that we do
-not deny, but distinctly assert, the existence of space as a
-real and necessary condition of all objects perceived; and
-that we not only allow that objects are seen external to us,
-but we found upon the fact of their being so seen, our view
-of the nature of space. If, however, it be said that we deny
-the reality of space as an object or thing, this is true.
-Nor does it appear easy to maintain that space exists as a
-thing, when it is considered that this thing is infinite in
-all its dimensions; and, moreover, that it is a thing,
-which, being nothing in itself, exists only that other
-things may exist in it. And those who maintain the real
-existence of space, must also maintain the real existence of
-time in the same sense. Now two infinite things, thus really
-existing, and yet existing only as other things exist in
-them, are notions so extravagant that we are driven to some
-other mode of explaining the state of the matter.
-
-4. Thus space is not an object of which we perceive the
-properties, but a form of our perception; not a thing which
-affects our senses, but an idea to which we conform the
-impressions of sense. And its peculiarities appear to depend
-upon this, that it is not only a form of sensation, but of
-_intuition_; that in reference to space, we not only
-perceive but _contemplate_ objects. We see objects in space,
-side by side, exterior to each other; space, and objects in
-so far as they occupy space, have parts exterior to other
-parts; and have the whole thus made up by the juxtaposition
-of parts. This mode of apprehension belongs only to the
-ideas of space and time. Space and Time are made up of
-parts, but Cause and Likeness are not apprehended as made up
-of parts. And the term _intuition_ (in its rigorous sense)
-is applicable only to that mode of contemplation in which we
-thus look at objects as made up of parts, and apprehend the
-relations of those parts at the same time and by the same
-act by which we apprehend the objects themselves.
-
-5. As we have said, space limited by _boundaries_ {97} gives
-rise to various conceptions which we have often to consider.
-Thus limited, space assumes _form_ or _figure_; and the
-variety of conceptions thus brought under our notice is
-infinite. We have every possible form of line, straight
-line, and curve; and of curves an endless number;--circles,
-parabolas, hyperbolas, spirals, helices. We have plane
-surfaces of various shapes,--parallelograms, polygons,
-ellipses; and we have solid figures,--cubes, cones,
-cylinders, spheres, spheroids, and so on. All these have
-their various properties, depending on the relations of
-their boundaries; and the investigation of their properties
-forms the business of the science of Geometry.
-
-6. Space has three dimensions, or directions in which it may
-be measured; it cannot have more or fewer. The simplest
-measurement is that of a straight line, which has length
-alone. A surface has both length and breadth: and solid
-space has length, breadth, and thickness or depth. The
-origin of such a difference of dimensions will be seen if we
-reflect that each portion of space has a boundary, and is
-extended both _in_ the direction in which its boundary
-extends, and also in a direction _from_ its boundary; for
-otherwise it would not be a boundary. A point has no
-dimensions. A line has but one dimension,--the distance from
-its boundary, or its _length_. A plane, bounded by a
-straight line, has the dimension which belongs to this line,
-and also has another dimension arising from the distance of
-its parts from this boundary line; and this may be called
-_breadth_. A solid, bounded by a plane, has the dimensions
-which this plane has; and has also a third dimension, which
-we may call _height_ or _depth_, as we consider the solid
-extended above or below the plane; or _thickness_, if we
-omit all consideration of up and down. And no space can have
-any dimensions which are not resoluble into these three.
-
-We may now proceed to consider the mode in which the idea of
-space is employed in the formation of Geometry.
-
-
-
-{{98}}
-CHAPTER IV.
-
-OF THE DEFINITIONS AND AXIOMS WHICH RELATE TO SPACE.
-
-
-1. THE relations of space have been apprehended with
-peculiar distinctness and clearness from the very first
-unfolding of man's speculative powers. This was a
-consequence of the circumstance which we have just noticed,
-that the simplest of these relations, and those on which the
-others depend, are seen by intuition. Hence, as soon as men
-were led to speculate concerning the relations of space,
-they assumed just principles, and obtained true results. It
-is said that the science of _geometry_ had its origin in
-Egypt, before the dawn of the Greek philosophy: but the
-knowledge of the early Egyptians (exclusive of their
-mythology) appears to have been purely practical; and,
-probably, their geometry consisted only in some maxims of
-_land-measuring_, which is what the term implies. The Greeks
-of the time of Plato, had, however, not only possessed
-themselves of many of the most remarkable elementary
-theorems of the science; but had, in several instances,
-reached the boundary of the science in its elementary form;
-as when they proposed to themselves the problems of doubling
-the cube and squaring the circle.
-
-But the deduction of these theorems by a systematic process,
-and the primary exhibition of the simplest principles
-involved in the idea of space, which such a deduction
-requires, did not take place, so far as we are aware, till a
-period somewhat later. The _Elements of Geometry_ of Euclid,
-in which this task was performed, are to this day the
-standard work on the subject: the author of this work taught
-mathematics with great applause at Alexandria, in the reign
-of Ptolemy Lagus, {99} about 280 years before Christ. The
-principles which Euclid makes the basis of his system have
-been very little simplified since his time; and all the
-essays and controversies which bear upon these principles,
-have had a reference to the form in which they are stated by him.
-
-2. _Definitions._--The first principles of Euclid's geometry
-are, as the first principles of any system of geometry must
-be, definitions and axioms respecting the various ideal
-conceptions which he introduces; as straight lines, parallel
-lines, angles, circles, and the like. But it is to be
-observed that these definitions and axioms are very far from
-being arbitrary hypotheses and assumptions. They have their
-origin in the idea of space, and are merely modes of
-exhibiting that idea in such a manner as to make it afford
-grounds of deductive reasoning. The axioms are necessary
-consequences of the conceptions respecting which they are
-asserted; and the definitions are no less necessary
-limitations of conceptions; not requisite in order to arrive
-at this or that consequence; but necessary in order that it
-may be possible to draw any consequences, and to establish
-any general truths.
-
-For example, if we rest the end of one straight staff upon
-the middle of another straight staff, and move the first
-staff into various positions, we, by so doing, alter the
-angles which the first staff makes with the other to the
-right hand and to the left. But if we place the staff in
-that special position in which these two angles are equal,
-each of them is a right angle, according to Euclid; and this
-is the _definition_ of a right angle, except that Euclid
-employs the abstract conception of straight lines, instead
-of speaking, as we have done, of staves. But this selection
-of the case in which the two angles are equal is not a mere
-act of caprice; as it might have been if he had selected a
-case in which these angles are unequal in any proportion.
-For the consequences which can be drawn concerning the cases
-of unequal angles, do not lead to general truths, without
-some reference to that peculiar case in which the angles are
-equal: and thus it becomes necessary to {100} single out and
-define that special case, marking it by a special phrase.
-And this definition not only gives complete and distinct
-knowledge what a right angle is, to any one who can form the
-conception of an angle in general; but also supplies a
-principle from which all the properties of right angles may
-be deduced.
-
-3. _Axioms._--With regard to other conceptions also, as
-circles, squares, and the like, it is possible to lay down
-definitions which are a sufficient basis for our reasoning,
-so far as such figures are concerned. But, besides these
-definitions, it has been found necessary to introduce
-certain axioms among the fundamental principles of geometry.
-These are of the simplest character; for instance, that two
-straight lines cannot cut each other in more than one point,
-and an axiom concerning parallel lines. Like the
-definitions, these axioms flow from the Idea of Space, and
-present that idea under various aspects. They are different
-from the definitions; nor can the definitions be made to
-take the place of the axioms in the reasoning by which
-elementary geometrical properties are established. For
-example, the definition of parallel straight lines is, that
-they are such as, however far continued, can never meet:
-but, in order to reason concerning such lines, we must
-further adopt some axiom respecting them: for example, we
-may very conveniently take this axiom; that two straight
-lines which cut one another are not both of them parallel to
-a third straight line[1\2]. The definition and the axiom are
-seen to be inseparably connected by our intuition of the
-properties of space; but the axiom cannot be proved from the
-definition, by any rigorous deductive demonstration. And if
-we were to take any other definition of two parallel
-straight lines, (as that they are both perpendicular to a
-third straight line,) we should still, at some point or
-other of our progress, fall in with the same difficulty of
-demonstratively establishing their properties without some
-further assumption.
-
-[Note 1\2: This axiom is simpler and more convenient than
-that of Euclid. It is employed by the late Professor
-Playfair in his _Geometry_.]
-
-{101} 4. Thus the elementary properties of figures, which
-are the basis of our geometry, are necessary results of our
-Idea of Space; and are connected with each other by the
-nature of that idea, and not merely by our hypotheses and
-constructions. Definitions and axioms must be combined, in
-order to express this idea so far as the purposes of
-demonstrative reasoning require. These verbal enunciations
-of the results of the idea cannot be made to depend on each
-other by logical consequence; but have a mutual dependence
-of a more intimate kind, which words cannot fully convey. It
-is not possible to resolve these truths into certain
-_hypotheses_, of which all the rest shall be the necessary
-logical consequence. The necessity is not hypothetical, but
-intuitive. The axioms require not to be granted, but to be
-seen. If any one were to assent to them without seeing them
-to be true, his assent would be of no avail for purposes of
-reasoning: for he would be also unable to see in what cases
-they might be applied. The clear possession of the Idea of
-Space is the first requisite for all geometrical reasoning;
-and this clearness of idea may be tested by examining
-whether the axioms offer themselves to the mind as evident.
-
-5. The necessity of ideas added to sensations, in order to
-produce knowledge, has often been overlooked or denied in
-modern times. The ground of necessary truth which ideas
-supply being thus lost, it was conceived that there still
-remained a ground of necessity in definitions;--that we
-might have necessary truths, by asserting especially what
-the definition implicitly involved in general. It was held,
-also, that this was the case in geometry:--that all the
-properties of a circle, for instance, were implicitly
-contained in the definition of a circle. That this alone is
-not the ground of the necessity of the truths which regard
-the circle,--that we could not in this way unfold a
-definition into proportions, without possessing an intuition
-of the relations to which the definition led,--has already
-been shown. But the insufficiency of the above account of
-the grounds of necessary geometrical truth appeared in
-another way also. It was found impossible to lay {102} down
-a system of definitions out of which alone the whole of
-geometrical truth could be evolved. It was found that axioms
-could not be superseded. No definition of a straight line
-could be given which rendered the axiom concerning straight
-lines superfluous. And thus it appeared that the source of
-geometrical truths was not definition alone; and we find in
-this result a confirmation of the doctrine which we are here
-urging, that this source of truth is to be found in the form
-or conditions of our perception;--in the idea which we
-unavoidably combine with the impressions of sense;--in the
-activity, and not in the passivity of the mind[2\2].
-
-[Note 2\2: I formerly stated views similar to these in some
-'Remarks' appended to a work which I termed _The Mechanical
-Euclid_, published in 1837. These Remarks, so far as they
-bear upon the question here discussed, were noticed and
-controverted in No. 135 of the _Edinburgh Review_. As an
-examination of the reviewer's objections may serve further
-to illustrate the subject, I shall annex to this chapter an
-answer to the article to which I have referred.]
-
-6. This will appear further when we come to consider the
-mode in which we exercise our observation upon the relations
-of space. But we may, in the first place, make a remark
-which tends to show the connexion between our conception of
-a straight line, and the axiom which is made the foundation
-of our reasonings concerning space. The axiom is this;--that
-two straight lines, which have both their ends joined,
-cannot have the intervening parts separated so as to inclose
-a space. The necessity of this axiom is of exactly the same
-kind as the necessity of the definition of a right angle, of
-which we have already spoken. For as the line standing on
-another makes _right angles_ when it makes the angles on the
-two sides of it equal; so a line is a _straight line_ when
-it makes the two portions of space, on the two sides of it,
-similar. And as there is only a single position of the line
-first mentioned, which can make the angles equal, so there
-is only a single form of a line which can make the spaces
-near the line similar on one side and on the other: and
-{103} therefore there cannot be two straight lines, such as
-the axiom describes, which, between the same limits, give
-two different boundaries to space thus separated. And thus
-we see a reason for the axiom. Perhaps this view may be
-further elucidated if we take a leaf of paper, double it,
-and crease the folded edge. We shall thus obtain a straight
-line at the folded edge; and this line divides the surface
-of the paper, as it was originally spread out, into two
-similar spaces. And that these spaces are similar so far as
-the fold which separates them is concerned, appears from
-this;--that these two parts coincide when the paper is
-doubled. And thus a fold in a sheet of paper at the same
-time illustrates the definition of a straight line according
-to the above view, and confirms the axiom that two such
-lines cannot inclose a space.
-
-If the separation of the two parts of space were made by any
-other than a straight line; if, for instance, the paper were
-cut by a concave line; then, on turning one of the parts
-over, it is easy to see that the edge of one part being
-concave one way, and the edge of the other part concave the
-other way, these two lines would enclose a space. And each
-of them would divide the whole space into two portions which
-were not similar; for one portion would have a concave edge,
-and the other a convex edge. Between any two points, there
-might be innumerable lines drawn, some, convex one way, and
-some, convex the other way; but the straight line is the
-line which is not convex either one way or the other; it is
-the single medium standard from which the others may deviate
-in opposite directions.
-
-Such considerations as these show sufficiently that the
-singleness of the straight line which connects any two
-points is a result of our fundamental conceptions of space.
-But yet the above conceptions of the similar form of the two
-parts of space on the two sides of a line, and of the form
-of a line which is intermediate among all other forms, are
-of so vague a nature, that they cannot fitly be made the
-basis of our elementary geometry; and they are far more
-conveniently replaced, as they have been in almost all
-treatises of {104} geometry, by the axiom, that two straight
-lines cannot inclose a space.
-
-7. But we may remark that, in what precedes, we have
-considered space only under one of its aspects:--as a plane.
-The sheet of paper which we assumed in order to illustrate
-the nature of a straight line, was supposed to be perfectly
-_plane_ or _flat_: for otherwise, by folding it, we might
-obtain a line not straight. Now this assumption of a plane
-appears to take for granted that very conception of a
-straight line which the sheet was employed to illustrate;
-for the definition of a plane given in the Elements of
-Geometry is, that it is a surface on which lie all straight
-lines drawn from one point of the surface to another. And
-thus the explanation above given of the nature of a straight
-line,--that it divides a plane space into similar portions
-on each side,--appears to be imperfect or nugatory.
-
-To this we reply, that the explanation must be rendered
-complete and valid by deriving the conception of a plane
-from considerations of the same kind as those which we
-employed for a straight line. Any portion of solid space may
-be divided into two portions by surfaces passing through any
-given line or boundaries. And these surfaces may be convex
-either on one side or on the other, and they admit of
-innumerable changes from being convex on one side to being
-convex on the other in any degree. So long as the surface is
-convex either way, the two portions of space which it
-separates are not similar, one having a convex and the other
-a concave boundary. But there is a certain intermediate
-position of the surface, in which position the two portions
-of space which it divides have their boundaries exactly
-similar. In this position, the surface is neither convex nor
-concave, but plane. And thus a plane surface is determined
-by this condition--of its being that single surface which is
-the intermediate form among all convex and concave surfaces
-by which solid space can be divided,--and of its separating
-such space into two portions, of which the boundaries,
-though they are the same surface in two opposite positions,
-are exactly similar. {105}
-
-Thus a plane is the simplest and most symmetrical boundary
-by which a solid can be divided; and a straight line is the
-simplest and most symmetrical boundary by which a plane can
-be separated. These conceptions are obtained by considering
-the boundaries of an interminable space, capable of
-imaginary division in every direction. And as a limited
-space may be separated into two parts by a plane, and a
-plane again separated into two parts by a straight line, so
-a line is divided into two portions by a point, which is the
-common boundary of the two portions; the end of the one and
-the beginning of the other portion having itself no
-magnitude, form, or parts.
-
-8. The geometrical properties of planes and solids are
-deducible from the first principles of the Elements, without
-any new axioms; the definition of a plane above
-quoted,--that all straight lines joining its points lie in
-the plane,--being a sufficient basis for all reasoning upon
-these subjects. And thus, the views which we have presented
-of the nature of space being verbally expressed by means of
-certain definitions and axioms, become the groundwork of a
-long series of deductive reasoning, by which is established
-a very large and curious collection of truths, namely, the
-whole science of Elementary Plane and Solid Geometry.
-
-This science is one of indispensable use and constant
-reference, for every student of the laws of nature; for the
-relations of space and number are the _alphabet_ in which
-those laws are written. But besides the interest and
-importance of this kind which geometry possesses, it has a
-great and peculiar value for all who wish to understand the
-foundations of human knowledge, and the methods by which it
-is acquired. For the student of geometry acquires, with a
-degree of insight and clearness which the unmathematical
-reader can but feebly imagine, a conviction that there are
-necessary truths, many of them of a very complex and
-striking character; and that a few of the most simple and
-self-evident truths which it is possible for the mind of man
-to apprehend, may, by systematic deduction, lead to the most
-remote and unexpected results. {106}
-
-In pursuing such philosophical researches as that in which
-we are now engaged, it is of great advantage to the
-speculator to have cultivated to some extent the study of
-geometry; since by this study he may become fully aware of
-such features in human knowledge as those which we have
-mentioned. By the aid of the lesson thus learned from the
-contemplation of geometrical truths, we have been
-endeavouriug to establish those further doctrines;--that
-these truths are but different aspects of the same
-Fundamental Idea, and that the grounds of the necessity
-which these truths possess reside in the Idea from which
-they flow, this Idea not being a derivative result of
-experience, but its primary rule. When the reader has
-obtained a clear and satisfactory view of these doctrines,
-so far as they are applicable to our knowledge concerning
-space, he has, we may trust, overcome the main difficulty
-which will occur in following the course of the speculations
-now presented to him. He is then prepared to go forwards
-with us; to see over how wide a field the same doctrines are
-applicable: and how rich and various a harvest of knowledge
-springs from these seemingly scanty principles.
-
-But before we quit the subject now under our consideration,
-we shall endeavour to answer some objections which have been
-made to the views here presented; and shall attempt to
-illustrate further the active powers which we have ascribed
-to the mind.
-
-
-
-{{107}}
-CHAPTER V.
-
-OF SOME OBJECTIONS WHICH HAVE BEEN MADE TO THE DOCTRINES
-STATED IN THE PREVIOUS CHAPTER.[3\2]
-
-
-[Note 3\2: In order to render the present chapter more
-intelligible, it may be proper to state briefly the
-arguments which gave occasion to the review. After noticing
-Stewart's assertions, that the certainty of mathematical
-reasoning arises from its depending upon definitions, and
-that mathematical truth is hypothetical; I urged,--that no
-one has yet been able to construct a system of mathematical
-truths by the aid of definitions alone; that a definition
-would not be admissible or applicable except it agreed with
-a distinct conception in the mind; that the definitions
-which we employ in mathematics are not arbitrary or
-hypothetical, but necessary definitions; that if Stewart had
-taken as his examples of axioms the peculiar geometrical
-axioms, his assertions would have been obviously erroneous;
-and that the real foundation of the truths of mathematics is
-the Idea of Space, which may be expressed (for purposes of
-demonstration) partly by definitions and partly by axioms.]
-
-THE _Edinburgh Review_, No. cxxxv., contains a critique on a
-work termed _The Mechanical Euclid_, in which opinions were
-delivered to nearly the same effect as some of those stated
-in the last chapter, and hereafter in Chapter xi. Although I
-believe that there are no arguments used by the reviewer to
-which the answers will not suggest themselves in the mind of
-any one who has read with attention what has been said in
-the preceding chapters (except, perhaps, one or two remarks
-which have reference to mechanical ideas), it may serve to
-illustrate the subject if I reply to the objections
-directly, taking them as the reviewer has stated them.
-
-I. I had dissented from Stewart's assertion that
-mathematical truth is hypothetical, or depends upon
-arbitrary definitions; since we understand by an {108}
-hypothesis a supposition, not only which we may make, but
-may abstain from making, or may replace by a different
-supposition; whereas the definitions and hypotheses of
-geometry are necessarily such as they are, and cannot be
-altered or excluded. The reviewer (p. 84) informs us that he
-understands Stewart, when he speaks of hypotheses and
-definitions being the foundation of geometry, to speak of
-the hypothesis that real objects correspond to our
-geometrical definitions. '_If_ a crystal be an exact
-hexahedron, the geometrical properties of the hexahedron may
-be predicated of that crystal.' To this I reply,--that such
-hypotheses as this are the grounds of our applications of
-geometrical truths to real objects, but can in no way be
-said to be the foundation of the truths themselves;--that I
-do not think that the sense which the reviewer gives was
-Stewart's meaning;--but that if it was, this view of the use
-of mathematics does not at all affect the question which
-both he and I proposed to discuss, which was, the ground of
-mathematical certainty. I may add, that whether a crystal be
-an exact hexahedron, is a matter of observation and
-measurement, not of definition. I think the reader can have
-no difficulty in seeing how little my doctrine is affected
-by the connexion on which the reviewer thus insists. I have
-asserted that the proposition which affirms the square on
-the diagonal of a rectangle to be equal to the squares on
-two sides, does not rest upon arbitrary hypotheses; the
-objector answers, that the proposition that the square on
-the diagonal _of this page_ is equal to the squares on the
-sides, depends upon the arbitrary hypothesis that the page
-is a rectangle. Even if this fact were a matter of arbitrary
-hypothesis, what could it have to do with the general
-geometrical proposition? How could a single fact, observed
-or hypothetical, affect a universal and necessary truth,
-which would be equally true if the fact were false? If there
-be nothing arbitrary or hypothetical in geometry till we
-come to such steps in its application, it is plain that the
-truths themselves are not hypothetical; which is the
-question for us to decide. {109}
-
-2. The reviewer then (p. 85) considers the doctrine that
-axioms as well as definitions are the foundations of
-geometry; and here he strangely narrows and confuses the
-discussion by making himself the advocate of Stewart,
-instead of arguing the question itself. I had asserted that
-some axioms are necessary as the foundations of mathematical
-reasoning, in addition to the definitions. If Stewart did
-not intend to discuss this question, I had no concern with
-what he had said about axioms. But I had every reason to
-believe that this was the question which Stewart did intend
-to discuss. I conceive there is no doubt that he intended to
-give an opinion upon the grounds of mathematical reasoning
-in general. For he begins his discussions (_Elements_, vol.
-ii. p. 38) by contesting Reid's opinion on this subject,
-which is stated generally; and he refers again to the same
-subject, asserting in general terms, that the first
-principles of mathematics are not axioms but definitions.
-If, then, afterwards, he made his proof narrower than his
-assertion;--if having declared that no axioms are necessary,
-he afterwards limited himself to showing that seven out of
-twelve of Euclid's axioms are barren truisms, it was no
-concern of mine to contest this assertion, which left my
-thesis untouched. I had asserted that the proper geometrical
-axioms (that two straight lines cannot inclose a space, and
-the axiom about parallel lines) are indispensable in
-geometry. What account the reviewer gives of these axioms we
-shall soon see; but if Stewart allowed them to be axioms
-necessary to geometrical reasoning, he overturned his own
-assertion as to the foundations of such reasoning; and if he
-said nothing decisive about these axioms, which are the
-points on which the battle must turn, he left his assertion
-altogether unproved; nor was it necessary for me to pursue
-the war into a barren and unimportant corner, when the
-metropolis was surrendered. The reviewer's exultation that I
-have not contested the first seven axioms is an amusing
-example of the self-complacent zeal of advocacy.
-
-3. But let us turn to the material point,--the proper
-geometrical axioms. What is the reviewer's account of {110}
-these? Which side of the alternative does he adopt? Do they
-depend upon the definitions, and is he prepared to show the
-dependence? Or are they superfluous, and can he erect the
-structure of geometry without their aid? One of these two
-courses, it would seem, he must take. For we both begin by
-asserting the excellence of geometry as an example of
-demonstrated truth. It is precisely this attribute which
-gives an interest to our present inquiry. How, then, does
-the reviewer explain this excellence on his views? How does
-he reckon the foundation courses of the edifice which we
-agree in considering as a perfect example of intellectual
-building?
-
-I presume I may take, as his answer to this question, his
-hypothetical statement of what Stewart would have said (p.
-87), on the supposition that there had been, among the
-foundations of geometry, self-evident indemonstrable truths:
-although it is certainly strange that the reviewer should
-not venture to make up his mind as to the truth or falsehood
-of this supposition. If there were such truths they would
-be, he says, 'legitimate filiations' of the definitions.
-They would be involved in the definitions. And again he
-speaks of the foundation of the geometrical doctrine of
-parallels as a flaw, and as a truth which requires, but has
-not received demonstration. And yet again, he tells us that
-each of these supposed axioms (Euclid's twelfth, for
-instance) is 'merely an indication of the point at which
-geometry fails to perform that which it undertakes to
-perform' (p. 91); and that in reality her truths are not yet
-demonstrated. The amount of this is, that the geometrical
-axioms are to be held to be _legitimate filiations_ of the
-definitions, because though certainly true, they cannot be
-proved from the definitions; that they are involved in the
-definitions, although they cannot be evolved out of them;
-and that rather than admit that they have any other origin
-than the definitions, we are to proclaim that geometry has
-failed to perform what she undertakes to perform.
-
-To this I reply--that I cannot understand what is meant by
-'legitimate filiations' of principles, if the {111} phrase
-do not mean consequences of such principles established by
-rigorous and formal demonstrations;--that the reviewer, if
-he claims any real signification for his phrase, must
-substantiate the meaning of it by such a demonstration; he
-must establish his 'legitimate filiation' by a genealogical
-table in a satisfactory form. When this cannot be done, to
-assert, notwithstanding, that the propositions are involved
-in the definitions, is a mere begging the question; and to
-excuse this defect by saying that geometry fails to perform
-what she has promised, is to calumniate the character of
-that science which we profess to make our standard, rather
-than abandon an arbitrary and unproved assertion respecting
-the real grounds of her excellence. I add, further, that if
-the doctrine of parallel lines, or any other geometrical
-doctrine of which we see the truth, with the most perfect
-insight of its necessity, have not hitherto received
-demonstration to the satisfaction of any school of
-reasoners, the defect must arise from their erroneous views
-of the nature of demonstrations, and the grounds of
-mathematical certainty.
-
-4. I conceive, then, that the reviewer has failed altogether
-to disprove the doctrine that the axioms of geometry are
-necessary as a part of the foundations of the science. I had
-asserted further that these axioms supply what the
-definitions leave deficient; and that they, along with
-definitions, serve to present the idea of space under such
-aspects that we can reason logically concerning it. To this
-the reviewer opposes (p. 96) the common opinion that a
-perfect definition is a complete explanation of a name, and
-that the test of its perfection is, that we may substitute
-the definition for the name wherever it occurs. I reply,
-that my doctrine, that a definition expresses a part, but
-not the whole, of the essential characters of an idea, is
-certainly at variance with an opinion sometimes maintained,
-that a definition merely explains a word, and should explain
-it so fully that it may always replace it. The error of this
-common opinion may, I think, be shown from considerations
-such as these;--that if {112} we undertake to explain one
-word by several, we may be called upon, on the same ground,
-to explain each of these several by others, and that in this
-way we can reach no limit nor resting-place;--that in point
-of fact, it is not found to lead to clearness, but to
-obscurity, when in the discussion of general principles, we
-thus substitute definitions for single terms;--that even if
-this be done, we cannot reason without conceiving what the
-terms mean;--and that, in doing this, the relations of our
-conceptions, and not the arbitrary equivalence of two forms
-of expression, are the foundations of our reasoning.
-
-5. The reviewer conceives that some of the so-called axioms
-are really definitions. The axiom, that 'magnitudes which
-coincide with each other, that is, which fill the same
-space, are equal,' is a definition of geometrical
-_equality_: the axiom, that 'the whole is greater than its
-part,' is a definition of _whole_ and _part_. But surely
-there are very serious objections to this view. It would
-seem more natural to say, if the former axiom is a
-definition of the word _equal_, that the latter is a
-definition of the word _greater_. And how can one short
-phrase define two terms? If I say, 'the heat of summer is
-greater than the heat of winter,' does this assertion define
-anything, though the proposition is perfectly intelligible
-and distinct? I think, then, that this attempt to reduce
-these axioms to definitions is quite untenable.
-
-6. I have stated that a definition can be of no use, except
-we can conceive the possibility and truth of the property
-connected with it; and that if we do conceive this, we may
-rightly begin our reasonings by stating the property as an
-axiom; which Euclid does, in the case of straight lines and
-of parallels. The reviewer inquires (p. 92), whether I am
-prepared to extend this doctrine to the case of circles, for
-which the reasoning is usually rested upon the
-definition;--whether I would replace this definition by an
-axiom, asserting the possibility of such a circle. To this I
-might reply, that it is not at all incumbent upon me to
-assent to such a change; for I have all along stated that it
-is indifferent {113} whether the fundamental properties from
-which we reason be exhibited as definitions or as axioms,
-provided the necessity be clearly seen. But I am ready to
-declare that I think the form of our geometry would be not
-at all the worse, if, instead of the usual definition of a
-circle,--'that it is a figure contained by one line, which
-is called the circumference, and which is such, that all
-straight lines drawn from a certain point within the
-circumference are equal to one another,'--we were to
-substitute an axiom and a definition, as follows:--
-_Axiom_. If a line be drawn so as to be at every point
-equally distant from a certain point, this line will return
-into itself or will be _one_ line including a space.
-_Definition_. The space is called a _circle_, the line the
-_circumference_, and the point the _center_.
-
-And this being done, it would be true, as the reviewer
-remarks, that geometry cannot stir _one_ step without
-resting on an axiom. And I do not at all hesitate to say,
-that the above axiom, expressed or understood, is no less
-necessary than the definition, and is tacitly assumed in
-every proposition into which circles enter.
-
-7. I have, I think, now disposed of the principal objections
-which bear upon the proper axioms of geometry. The
-principles which are stated as the first seven axioms of
-Euclid's _Elements_, need not, as I have said, be here
-discussed. They are principles which refer, not to Space in
-particular, but to Quantity in general: such, for instance,
-as these; 'If equals be added to equals the wholes are
-equal;'--'If equals be taken from equals the remainders are
-equal.' But I will make an observation or two upon them
-before I proceed.
-
-Both Locke and Stewart have spoken of these axioms as barren
-truisms: as propositions from which it is not possible to
-deduce a single inference: and the reviewer asserts that
-they are not first principles, but laws of thought (p. 88).
-To this last expression I am {114} willing to assent; but I
-would add, that not only these, but all the principles which
-express the fundamental conditions of our knowledge, may
-with equal propriety be termed laws of thought; for these
-principles depend upon our ideas, and regulate the active
-operations of the mind, by which coherence and connexion are
-given to its passive impressions. But the assertion that no
-conclusions can be drawn from simple axioms, or laws of
-human thought, which regard quantity, is by no means true.
-The whole of arithmetic,--for instance, the rules for the
-multiplication and division of large numbers, the rule for
-finding a common measure, and, in short, a vast body of
-theory respecting numbers,--rests upon no other foundation
-than such axioms as have been just noticed, that if equals
-be added to equals the wholes will be equal. And even when
-Locke's assertion, that from these axioms no truths can be
-deduced, is modified by Stewart and the reviewer, and
-limited to _geometrical_ truths, it is hardly tenable
-(although, in fact, it matters little to our argument
-whether it is or no). For the greater part of the Seventh
-Book of Euclid's _Elements_, (on Commensurable and
-Incommensurable Quantities,) and the Fifth Book, (on
-Proportion,) depend upon these axioms, with the addition
-only of the definition or axiom (for it may be stated either
-way) which expresses the idea of proportionality in numbers.
-So that the attempt to disprove the necessity and use of
-axioms, as principles of reasoning, fails even when we take
-those instances which the opponents consider as the more
-manifestly favourable to their doctrine.
-
-8. But perhaps the question may have already suggested
-itself to the reader's mind, of what use can it be formally
-to state such principles as these, (for example, that if
-equals be added to equals the wholes are equal,) since,
-whether stated or no, they will be assumed in our reasoning?
-And how can such principles be said to be necessary, when
-our proof proceeds equally well without any reference to
-them? And the answer is, that it is precisely because these
-are the {115} common principles of reasoning, which we
-naturally employ without specially contemplating them, that
-they require to be separated from the other steps and
-formally stated, when we _analyse_ the demonstrations which
-we have obtained. In every mental process many principles
-are combined and abbreviated, and thus in some measure
-concealed and obscured. In analysing these processes, the
-combination must be resolved, and the abbreviation expanded,
-and thus the appearance is presented of a pedantic and
-superfluous formality. But that which is superfluous for
-proof, is necessary for the analysis of proof. In order to
-exhibit the conditions of demonstration distinctly, they
-must be exhibited formally. In the same manner, in
-demonstration we do not usually express every step in the
-form of a syllogism, but we see the grounds of the
-conclusiveness of a demonstration, by resolving it into
-syllogisms. Neither axioms nor syllogisms are necessary for
-conviction; but they are necessary to display the conditions
-under which conviction becomes inevitable. The application
-of a single one of the axioms just spoken of is so minute a
-step in the proof, that it appears pedantic to give it a
-marked place; but the very essence of demonstration consists
-in this, that it is composed of an indissoluble succession
-of such minute steps. The admirable circumstance is, that by
-the accumulation of such apparently imperceptible advances,
-we can in the end make so vast and so sure a progress. The
-completeness of the analysis of our knowledge appears in the
-smallness of the elements into which it is thus resolved.
-The minuteness of any of these elements of truth, of axioms
-for instance, does not prevent their being as essential as
-others which are more obvious. And any attempt to assume one
-kind of element only, when the course of our analysis brings
-before us two or more kinds, is altogether unphilosophical.
-Axioms and definitions are the proximate constituent
-principles of our demonstrations; and the intimate bond
-which connects together a definition and an axiom on the
-same subject is not truly expressed {116} by asserting the
-latter to be derived from the former. This bond of connexion
-exists in the mind of the reasoner, in his conception of
-_that_ to which both definition and axiom refer, and
-consequently in the general Fundamental Idea of which that
-conception is a modification.
-
-
-
-{{117}}
-CHAPTER VI.
-
-OF THE PERCEPTION OF SPACE.
-
-
-1. ACCORDING to the views above explained, certain of the
-impressions of our senses convey to us the perception of
-objects as existing in space; inasmuch as by the
-constitution of our minds we cannot receive those
-impressions otherwise than in a certain form, involving such
-a manner of existence. But the question deserves to be
-asked, _What_ are the impressions of sense by which we thus
-become acquainted with space and its relations? And as we
-have seen that this idea of space implies an act of the mind
-as well as an impression on the sense, what manifestations
-do we find of this activity of the mind, in our observation
-of the external world?
-
-It is evident that sight and touch are the senses by which
-the relations of space are perceived, principally or
-entirely. It does not appear that an odour, or a feeling of
-warmth or cold, would, independently of experience, suggest
-to us the conception of a space surrounding us. But when we
-_see_ objects, we see that they are extended and occupy
-space; when we _touch_ them, we feel that they are in a
-space in which we also are. We have before our eyes any
-object, for instance, a board covered with geometrical
-diagrams; and we distinctly perceive, by vision, those lines
-of which the relations are the subjects of our mathematical
-reasoning. Again, we see before us a solid object, a cubical
-box for instance; we see that it is within reach; we stretch
-out the hand and perceive by the touch that it has sides,
-edges, corners, which we had already perceived by vision. {118}
-
-2. Probably most persons do not generally apprehend that
-there is any material difference in these two cases;--that
-there are any different acts of mind concerned in perceiving
-by sight a mathematical diagram upon paper, and a solid cube
-lying on a table. Yet it is not difficult to show that, in
-the latter case at least, the perception of the shape of the
-object is not immediate. A very little attention teaches us
-that there is an act of judgment as well as a mere
-impression of sense requisite, in order that we may see any
-solid object. For there is no visible appearance which is
-inseparably connected with solidity. If a picture of a cube
-be rightly drawn, in perspective and skilfully shaded, the
-impression upon the sense is the same as if it were a real
-cube. The picture may be mistaken for a solid object. But it
-is clear that, in this case, the solidity is given to the
-object by an act of mental judgment. All that is seen is
-outline and shade, figures and colours on a flat board. The
-solid angles and edges, the relation of the faces of the
-figure by which they form a cube, are matters of inference.
-This, which is evident in the case of the pictured cube, is
-true in all vision whatever. We see a scene before us on
-which are various figures and colours, but the eye cannot
-see more. It sees length and breadth, but no third
-dimension. In order to know that there are solids, we must
-infer as well as see. And this we do readily and constantly;
-so familiarly, indeed, that we do not perceive the
-operation. Yet we may detect this latent process in many
-ways; for instance, by attending to cases in which the habit
-of drawing such inferences misleads us. Most persons have
-experienced this delusion in looking at a scene in a
-theatre, and especially that kind of scene which is called a
-_diorama_, when the interior of a building is represented.
-In these cases, the perspective representations of the
-various members of the architecture and decoration impress
-us almost irresistibly with the conviction that we have
-before us a space of great extent and complex form, instead
-of a flat painted canvass. Here, at least, the space is our
-own creation; but yet here, it is {119} manifestly created
-by the same act of thought as if we were really in the
-palace or the cathedral of which the halls and aisles thus
-seem to inclose us. And the act by which we thus create
-space of three dimensions out of visible extent of length
-and breadth, is constantly and imperceptibly going on. We
-are perpetually interpreting in this manner the language of
-the visible world. From the appearances of things which we
-directly see, we are constantly inferring that which we
-cannot directly see,--their distance from us, and the
-position of their parts.
-
-3. The characters which we thus interpret are various. They
-are, for instance, the visible forms, colours, and shades of
-the parts, understood according to the maxims of
-perspective; (for of perspective every one has a practical
-knowledge, as every one has of grammar;) the effort by which
-we fix both our eyes on the same object, and adjust each eye
-to distinct vision; and the like. The right interpretation
-of the information which such circumstances give us
-respecting the true forms and distances of things, is
-gradually learned; the lesson being begun in our earliest
-infancy, and inculcated upon us every hour during which we
-use our eyes. The completeness with which the lesson is
-mastered is truly admirable; for we forget that our
-conclusion is obtained indirectly, and mistake a judgment on
-evidence for an intuitive perception. We see the breadth of
-the street, as clearly and readily as we see the house on
-the other side of it; and we see the house to be square,
-however obliquely it be presented to us. This, however, by
-no means throws any doubt or difficulty on the doctrine that
-in all these cases we do interpret and infer. The rapidity
-of the process, and the unconsciousness of the effort, are
-not more remarkable in this case than they are when we
-understand the meaning of the speech which we hear, or of
-the book which we read. In these latter cases we merely hear
-noises or see black marks; but we make, out of these
-elements, thought and feeling, without being aware of the
-act by which we do so. And by an exactly similar process we
-see a variously-coloured {120} expanse, and collect from it
-a space occupied by solid objects. In both cases the act of
-interpretation is become so habitual that we can hardly stop
-short at the mere impression of sense.
-
-4. But yet there are various ways in which we may satisfy
-ourselves that these two parts of the process of seeing
-objects are distinct. To separate these operations is
-precisely the task which the artist has to execute, in
-making a drawing of what he sees. He has to recover the
-consciousness of his real and genuine sensations, and to
-discern the lines of objects as they appear. This at first
-he finds difficult; for he is tempted to draw what he knows
-of the forms of visible objects, and not what he sees: but
-as he improves in his art, he learns to put on paper what he
-sees only, separated from what he infers, in order that thus
-the inference, and with it a conception like that of the
-reality, may be left to the spectator. And thus the natural
-process of vision is the habit of seeing that which cannot
-be seen; and the difficulty of the art of drawing consists
-in learning not to see more than is visible.
-
-5. But again; even in the simplest drawing we exhibit
-something which we do not see. However slight is our
-representation of objects, it contains something which we
-create for ourselves. For we draw an _outline_. Now an
-outline has no existence in nature. There are no visible
-lines presented to the eye by a group of figures. We
-separate each figure from the rest, and the boundary by
-which we do this is the outline of the figure; and the like
-may be said of each member of every figure. A painter of our
-own times has made this remark in a work upon his art[4\2]:
-'The effect which natural objects produce upon our sense of
-vision is that of a number of parts, or distinct masses of
-form and colour, and not of lines. But when we endeavour to
-represent by painting the objects which are before us, or
-which invention supplies to our minds, {121} the first and
-the simplest means we resort to is this picture, by which we
-separate the form of each object from those that surround
-it, marking its boundary, the extreme extent of its
-dimensions in every direction, as impressed on our vision:
-and this is termed drawing its outline.'
-
-[Note 4\2: Phillips _On Painting._]
-
-6. Again, there are other ways in which we see clear
-manifestations of the act of thought by which we assign to
-the parts of objects their relations in space, the
-impressions of sense being merely subservient to this act.
-If we look at a medal through a glass which inverts it, we
-see the figures upon it become concave depressions instead
-of projecting convexities; for the light which illuminates
-the nearer side of the convexity will be transferred to the
-opposite side by the apparent inversion of the medal, and
-will thus imply a hollow in which the side nearest the light
-gathers the shade. Here our decision as to which part is
-nearest to us, has reference to the side from which the
-light comes. In other cases the decision is more
-spontaneous. If we draw black outlines, such as represent
-the edges of a cube seen in perspective, certain of the
-lines will cross each other; and we may make this cube
-appear to assume two different positions, by determining in
-our own mind that the lines which belong to one end of the
-cube shall be understood to be before or to be behind those
-which they cross. Here an act of the will, operating upon
-the same sensible image, gives us two cubes, occupying two
-entirely different positions. Again, many persons may have
-observed that when a windmill in motion at a distance from
-us, (so that the outline of the sails only is seen,) stands
-obliquely to the eye, we may, by an effort of thought, make
-the obliquity assume one or the other of two positions; and
-as we do this, the sails, which in one instance appear to
-turn from right to left, in the other case turn from left to
-right. A person a little familiar with this mental effort,
-can invert the motion as often as he pleases, so long as the
-conditions of form and light do not offer a manifest
-contradiction to either position. {122}.
-
-Thus we have these abundant and various manifestations of
-the activity of the mind, in the process by which we collect
-from vision the relations of solid space of three
-dimensions. But we must further make some remarks on the
-process by which we perceive mere visible figure; and also,
-on the mode in which we perceive the relations of space by
-the touch; and first, of the latter subject.
-
-7. The opinion above illustrated, that our sight does not
-give us a direct knowledge of the relations of solid space,
-and that this knowledge is acquired only by an inference of
-the mind, was first clearly taught by the celebrated Bishop
-Berkeley[5\2], and is a doctrine now generally assented to
-by metaphysical speculators.
-
-[Note 5\2: _Theory of Vision._]
-
-But does the sense of _touch_ give us directly a knowledge
-of space? This is a question which has attracted
-considerable notice in recent times; and new light has been
-thrown upon it in a degree which is very remarkable, when we
-consider that the philosophy of perception has been a
-prominent subject of inquiry from the earliest times. Two
-philosophers, advancing to this inquiry from different
-sides, the one a metaphysician, the other a physiologist,
-have independently arrived at the conviction that the long
-current opinion, according to which we acquire a knowledge
-of space by the sense of touch, is erroneous. And the
-doctrine which they teach instead of the ancient errour, has
-a very important bearing upon the principle which we are
-endeavouring to establish,--that our knowledge of space and
-its properties is derived rather from the active operations
-than from the passive impressions of the percipient mind.
-
-Undoubtedly the persuasion that we acquire a knowledge of
-form by the touch is very obviously suggested by our common
-habits. If we wish to know the form of any body in the dark,
-or to correct the impressions conveyed by sight, when we
-suspect them to be false, we have only, it seems to us, at
-least at first, to stretch forth the hand and touch the
-object; and we learn its {123} shape with, no chance of
-errour. In these cases, form appears to be as immediate a
-perception of the sense of touch, as colour is of the sense
-of sight.
-
-8. But is this perception really the result of the passive
-sense of touch merely? Against such an opinion Dr. Brown,
-the metaphysician of whom I speak, urges[6\2] that the
-feeling of touch alone, when any object is applied to the
-hand, or any other part of the body, can no more convey the
-conception of form or extension, than the sensation of an
-odour or a taste can do, except we have already some
-knowledge of the relative position of the parts of our
-bodies; that is, except we are already in possession of an
-idea of space, and have, in our minds, referred our limbs to
-their positions; which is to suppose the conception of form
-already acquired.
-
-[Note 6\2: _Lectures_, Vol. i. p. 459, (1824).]
-
-9. By what faculty then do we originally acquire our
-conceptions of the relations of position? Brown answers by
-the _muscular sense_; that is, by the conscious exertions of
-the various muscles by which we move our limbs. When we feel
-out the form and position of bodies by the hand, our
-knowledge is acquired, not by the mere touch of the body,
-but by perceiving the course the fingers must take in order
-to follow the surface of the body, or to pass from one body
-to another. We are conscious of the slightest of the
-volitions by which we thus feel out form and place; we know
-whether we move the finger to the right or left, up or down,
-to us or from us, through a large or a small space; and all
-these conscious acts are bound together and regulated in our
-minds by an idea of an extended space in which they are
-performed. That this idea of space is not borrowed from the
-sight, and transferred to the muscular feelings by habit, is
-evident. For a man born blind can feel out his way with his
-staff, and has his conceptions of position determined by the
-conditions of space, no less than one who has the use of his
-eyes. And the muscular consciousness which reveals to us the
-position of objects and parts of objects, {124} when we feel
-them out by means of the hand, shows itself in a thousand
-other ways, and in all our limbs: for our habits of
-standing, walking, and all other attitudes and motions, are
-regulated by our feeling of our position and that of
-surrounding objects. And thus, we cannot touch any object
-without learning something respecting its position; not that
-the sense of touch directly conveys such knowledge; but we
-have already learnt, from the muscular sense, constantly
-exercised, the position of the limb which the object thus
-touches.
-
-10. The justice of this distinction will, I think, be
-assented to by all persons who attend steadily to the
-process itself, and might be maintained by many forcible
-reasons. Perhaps one of the most striking evidences in its
-favour is that, as I have already intimated, it is the
-opinion to which another distinguished philosopher, Sir
-Charles Bell, has been led, reasoning entirely upon
-physiological principles. From his researches it resulted
-that besides the nerves which convey the impulse of the will
-from the brain to the muscle, by which every motion of our
-limbs is produced, there is another set of nerves which
-carry back to the brain a sense of the condition of the
-muscle, and thus regulate its activity; and give us the
-consciousness of our position and relation to surrounding
-objects. The motion of the hand and fingers, or the
-consciousness of this motion, must be combined with the
-sense of touch properly so called, in order to make an inlet
-to the knowledge of such relations. This consciousness of
-muscular exertion, which he has called a sixth sense[7\2],
-is our guide, Sir C. Bell shows, in the common practical
-government of our motions; and he states that having given
-this explanation of perception as a physiological doctrine,
-he had afterwards with satisfaction seen it confirmed by Dr.
-Brown's speculations.
-
-[Note 7\2: _Bridgewater Treatise_, p. 195. _Phil. Trans._
-1826, Pt. ii. p. 167.]
-
-11. Thus it appears that our consciousness of the relations
-of space is inseparably and fundamentally connected with our
-own actions in space. We perceive {125} only while we act;
-our sensations require to be interpreted by our volitions.
-The apprehension of extension and figure is far from being a
-process in which we are inert and passive. We draw lines
-with our fingers; we construct surfaces by curving our
-hands; we generate spaces by the motion of our arms. When
-the geometer bids us form lines, or surfaces, or solids by
-motion, he intends his injunction to be taken as
-hypothetical only; we need only conceive such motions. But
-yet this hypothesis represents truly the origin of our
-knowledge; we perceive spaces by motion at first, as we
-conceive spaces by motion afterwards:--or if not always by
-actual motion, at least by potential. If we perceive the
-length of a staff by holding its two ends in our two hands
-without running the finger along it, this is because by
-habitual motion we have already acquired a measure of the
-distance of our hands in any attitude of which we are
-conscious. Even in the simplest case, our perceptions are
-derived not from the touch, but from the sixth sense; and
-this sixth sense at least, whatever may be the case with the
-other five, implies an active mind along with the passive sense.
-
-12. Upon attentive consideration, it will be clear that a
-large portion of the perceptions respecting space which
-appear at first to be obtained by sight alone, are, in fact,
-acquired by means of this sixth sense. Thus we consider the
-visible sky as a single surface surrounding us and returning
-into itself, and thus forming a hemisphere. But such a mode
-of conceiving an object of vision could never have occurred
-to us, if we had not been able to turn our heads, to follow
-this surface, to pursue it till we find it returning into
-itself. And when we have done this, we necessarily present
-it to ourselves as a concave inclosure within which we are.
-The sense of sight alone, without the power of muscular
-motion, could not have led us to view the sky as a vault or
-hemisphere. Under such circumstances, we should have
-perceived only what was presented to the eye in one
-position; and if different appearances had been presented in
-succession, we could {126} not have connected them as parts
-of the same picture, for want of any perception of their
-relative position. They would have been so many detached and
-incoherent visual sensations. The muscular sense connects
-their parts into a whole, making them to be only different
-portions of one universal scene[8\2].
-
-[Note 8\2: It has been objected to this view that we might
-obtain a conception of the sky as a hemisphere, by being
-ourselves turned round, (as on a music-stool, for instance,)
-and thus seeing in succession all parts of the sky. But this
-assertion I conceive to be erroneous. By being thus turned
-round, we should see a number of pictures which we should
-put together as parts of a plane picture; and when we came
-round to the original point, we should have no possible
-means of deciding that it was the _same_ point: it would
-appear only as a _repetition_ of the picture. That sight, of
-itself, can give us only a plane picture, the doctrine of
-Berkeley, appears to be indisputable; and, no less so, the
-doctrine that it is the consciousness of our own action in
-space which puts together these pictures so that they cover
-the surface of a solid body. We can see length and breadth
-with our eyes, but we must thrust out our arm towards the
-flat surface, in order that we may, in our thoughts, combine
-a third dimension with the other two.]
-
-13. These considerations point out the fallacy of a very
-curious representation made by Dr. Reid, of the convictions
-to which man would be led, if he possessed vision without
-the sense of touch. To illustrate this subject, Reid uses
-the fiction of a nation whom he terms the _Idomenians_, who
-have no sense except that of sight. He describes their
-notions of the relations of space as being entirely
-different from ours. The axioms of their geometry are quite
-contradictory to our axioms. For example, it is held to be
-self-evident among them that two straight lines which
-intersect each other once, must intersect a second time;
-that the three angles of any triangle are _greater_ than two
-right angles; and the like. These paradoxes are obtained by
-tracing the relations of lines on the surface of a concave
-sphere, which surrounds the spectator, and on which all
-visible appearances may be supposed to be presented to him.
-But from what is said above it appears that the notion of
-such a sphere, and such a connexion of visible objects which
-are seen in different {127} directions, cannot be arrived at
-by sight alone. When the spectator combines in his
-conception the relations of long-drawn lines and large
-figures, as he sees them by turning his head to the right
-and to the left, upwards and downwards, he ceases to be an
-Idomenian. And thus our conceptions of the properties of
-space, derived through the exercise of one mode of
-perception, are not at variance with those obtained in
-another way; but all such conceptions, however produced or
-suggested, are in harmony with each other; being, as has
-already been said, only different aspects of the same idea.
-
-14. If our perceptions of the position of objects around us
-do not depend on the sense of vision alone, but on the
-muscular feeling brought into play when we turn our head, it
-will obviously follow that the same is true when we turn the
-eye instead of the head. And thus we may learn the form of
-objects, not by looking at them with a fixed gaze, but by
-following the boundary of them with the eye. While the head
-is held perfectly still, the eye can rove along the outlines
-of visible objects, scrutinize each point in succession, and
-leap from one point to another; each such act being
-accompanied by a muscular consciousness which makes us aware
-of the direction in which the look is travelling. And we may
-thus gather information concerning the figures and places
-which we trace out with the visual ray, as the blind man
-learns the forms of things which he traces out with his
-staff, being conscious of the motions of his hand.
-
-15. This view of the mode in which the eye perceives
-position, which is thus supported by the analogy of other
-members employed for the same purpose, is further confirmed
-by Sir Charles Bell by physiological reasons. He teaches us
-that[9\2] when an object is seen we employ two senses: there
-is an impression on the retina; but we receive also the idea
-of position or relation in space, which it is not the office
-of the retina to give, by our consciousness of the efforts
-of the voluntary {128} muscles of the eye: and he has traced
-in detail the course of the nerves by which these muscles
-convey their information. The constant _searching_ motion of
-the eye, as he terms it[10\2], is the means by which we
-become aware of the position of objects about us.
-
-[Note 9\2: _Phil. Trans._ 1823. On the Motions of the Eye.]
-
-[Note 10\2: _Bridgewater Treatise_, p. 282. I have adopted,
-in writing the above, the views and expressions of Sir
-Charles Bell. The essential part of the doctrine there
-presented is, that the eye constantly makes efforts to turn,
-so that the image of an object to which our attention is
-drawn, shall fall upon a certain particular point of the
-retina; and that when the image falls upon any other point,
-the eye turns away from this oblique into the direct
-position. Other writers have maintained that the eye thus
-turns not because the point on which the image falls in
-direct vision is the most _sensible_ point, but that it is
-the point of _greatest distinctness_ of vision. They urge
-that a small star, which disappears when the eye is turned
-full upon it, may often be seen by looking a little away
-from it: and hence, they infer that the parts of the retina
-removed from the spot of direct vision, are more sensible
-than it is. The facts are very curious, however they be
-explained, but they do not disturb the doctrine delivered in
-the text.]
-
-16. It is not to our present purpose to follow the
-physiology of this subject; but we may notice that Sir C.
-Bell has examined the special circumstances which belong to
-this operation of the eye. We learn from him that the
-particular point of the eye which thus traces the forms of
-visible objects is a part of the retina which has been
-termed the _sensible spot_; being that part which is _most
-distinctly_ sensible to the impressions of light and colour.
-This part, indeed, is not a spot of definite size and form,
-for it appears that proceeding from a certain point of the
-retina, the distinct sensibility diminishes on every side by
-degrees. And the searching motion of the eye arises from the
-desire which we instinctively feel of receiving upon the
-sensible spot the image of the object to which the attention
-is directed. We are uneasy and impatient till the eye is
-turned so that this is effected. And as our attention is
-transferred from point to point of the scene before us, the
-eye, and this point of the eye in particular, travel along
-with the thoughts; and the muscular sense, which tells us of
-these movements of the organ of {129} vision, conveys to us
-a knowledge of the forms and places which we thus
-successively survey.
-
-17. How much of activity there is in the process by which we
-perceive the outlines of objects appears further from the
-language by which we describe their forms. We apply to them
-not merely adjectives of form, but verbs of motion. An
-abrupt hill _starts_ out of the plain; a beautiful figure
-has a _gliding_ outline. We have
- The windy summit, wild and high,
- Roughly _rushing_ on the sky.
-These terms express the course of the eye as it follows the
-lines by which such forms are bounded and marked. In like
-manner another modern poet[11\2] says of Soracte, that it
- From out the plain
- _Heaves_ like a long-swept wave about to break,
- And on the curl _hangs pausing_.
-
-[Note 11\2: Byron, _Ch. Har._ vi. st. 75.]
-
-Thus the muscular sense, which is inseparably connected with
-an act originating in our own mind, not only gives us all
-that portion of our perceptions of space in which we use the
-sense of touch, but also, at least in a great measure,
-another large portion of such perceptions, in which we
-employ the sense of sight. As we have before seen that our
-_knowledge_ of solid space and its properties is not
-conceivable in any other way than as the result of a mental
-act, governed by conditions depending on its own nature; so
-it now appears that our _perceptions_ of visible figure are
-not obtained without an act performed under the same
-conditions. The sensations of touch and sight are
-subordinated to an idea which is the basis of our
-speculative knowledge concerning space and its relations;
-and this same idea is disclosed to our consciousness by its
-practically regulating our intercourse with the external world.
-
-By considerations such as have been adduced and referred to,
-it is proved beyond doubt, that in a great {130} number of
-cases our knowledge of form and position is acquired from
-the muscular sense, and not from sight directly:--for
-instance, in all cases in which we have before us objects so
-large and prospects so extensive that we cannot see the
-whole of them in one position of the eye[12\2].
-
-[Note 12\2: The expression in the first edition was 'large
-objects and extensive spaces.' In the text as now given, I
-state a definite size and extent, within which the sight by
-itself can judge of position and figure.
-
-The doctrine, that we require the assistance of the muscular
-sense to enable us to perceive space of three dimensions, is
-not at all inconsistent with this other doctrine, that
-within the space which is seen by the fixed eye, we perceive
-the relative positions of points directly by vision, and
-that, consequently, we have a perception of _visible
-figure_.
-
-Sir Charles Bell has said, (_Phil. Trans._ 1823, p. 181,)
-'It appears to me that the utmost ingenuity will be at a
-loss to devise an explanation of that power by which the eye
-becomes acquainted with the position and relation of
-objects, if the sense of muscular activity be excluded which
-accompanies the motion of the eyeball.' But surely we should
-have no difficulty in perceiving the relation of the sides
-and angles of a small triangle, placed before the eye, even
-if the muscles of the eyeball were severed. This subject is
-resumed b. iv. c. ii. sect. 11.]
-
-We now quit the consideration of the properties of Space,
-and consider the Idea of Time.
-
-
-
-{{131}}
-CHAPTER VII.
-
-OF THE IDEA OF TIME.
-
-
-1. RESPECTING the Idea of Time, we may make several of the
-same remarks which we made concerning the idea of space, in
-order to show that it is not borrowed from experience, but
-is a bond of connexion among the impressions of sense,
-derived from a peculiar activity of the mind, and forming a
-foundation both of our experience and of our speculative
-knowledge.
-
-Time is not a notion obtained by experience. Experience,
-that is, the impressions of sense and our consciousness of
-our thoughts, gives us various perceptions; and different
-successive perceptions considered together exemplify the
-notion of change. But this very connexion of different
-perceptions,--this successiveness,--presupposes that the
-perceptions exist _in time_. That things happen either
-together, or one after the other, is intelligible only by
-assuming time as the condition under which they are
-presented to us.
-
-Thus time is a necessary condition in the presentation of
-all occurrences to our minds. We cannot conceive this
-condition to be taken away. We can conceive time to go on
-while nothing happens in it; but we cannot conceive anything
-to happen while time does not go on.
-
-It is clear from this that time is not an impression derived
-from experience, in the same manner in which we derive from
-experience our information concerning the objects which
-exist, and the occurrences which take place in time. The
-objects of experience can easily be conceived to be, or not
-to be:--to be absent as well as present. Time always is, and
-always is {132} present, and even in our thoughts we cannot
-form the contrary supposition.
-
-2. Thus time is something distinct from the _matter_ or
-substance of our experience, and may be considered as a
-necessary _form_ which that matter (the experience of
-change) must assume, in order to be an object of
-contemplation to the mind. Time is one of the necessary
-conditions under which we apprehend the information which
-our senses and consciousness give us. By considering time as
-a form which belongs to our power of apprehending
-occurrences and changes, and under which alone all such
-experience can be accepted by the mind, we explain the
-necessity, which we find to exist, of conceiving all such
-changes as happening in time; and we thus see that time is
-not a property perceived as existing in objects, or as
-conveyed to us by our senses; but a condition impressed upon
-our knowledge by the constitution of the mind itself;
-involving an act of thought as well as an impression of sense.
-
-3. We showed that space is an idea of the mind, or form of
-our perceiving power, independent of experience, by pointing
-out that we possess necessary and universal truths
-concerning the relations of space, which could never be
-given by means of experience; but of which the necessity is
-readily conceivable, if we suppose them to have for their
-basis the constitution of the mind. There exist also
-respecting number, many truths absolutely necessary,
-entirely independent of experience and anterior to it; and
-so far as the conception of number depends upon the idea of
-time, the same argument might be used to show that the idea
-of time is not derived from experience, but is a result of
-the native activity of the mind: but we shall defer all
-views of this kind till we come to the consideration of Number.
-
-4. Some persons have supposed that we obtain the notion of
-time from the perception of motion. But it is clear that the
-perception of motion, that is, change of place, presupposes
-the conception of time, and is not capable of being
-presented to the mind in any other {133} way. If we
-contemplate the same body as being in different places at
-different times, and connect these observations, we have the
-conception of motion, which thus presupposes the necessary
-conditions that existence in time implies. And thus we see
-that it is possible there should be necessary truths
-concerning all Motion, and consequently, concerning those
-motions which are the objects of experience; but that the
-source of this necessity is the Ideas of Time and Space,
-which, being universal conditions of knowledge residing in
-the mind, afford a foundation for necessary truths.
-
-
-
-{{134}}
-CHAPTER VIII.
-
-OF SOME PECULIARITIES OF THE IDEA OF TIME.
-
-
-1. THE Idea of Time, like the Idea of Space, offers to our
-notice some characters which do not belong to our
-fundamental ideas generally, but which are deserving of
-remark. These characters are, in some respects, closely
-similar with regard to Time and to Space, while, in other
-respects, the peculiarities of these two ideas are widely
-different. We shall point out some of these characters.
-
-Time is not a general _abstract_ notion collected from
-experience; as, for example, a certain general conception of
-the relations of things. For we do not consider particular
-_times_ as examples of Time in general, (as we consider
-particular causes to be examples of Cause,) but we conceive
-all particular times to be parts of a single and endless
-Time. This continually-flowing and endless time is what
-offers itself to us when we contemplate any series of
-occurrences. All actual and possible times exist as Parts,
-in this original and general Time. And since all particular
-times are considered as derivable from time in general, it
-is manifest that the notion of time in general cannot be
-derived from the notions of particular times. The notion of
-time in general is therefore not a general conception
-gathered from experience.
-
-2. Time is infinite. Since all actual and possible times
-exist in the general course of time, this general time must
-be infinite. All limitation merely divides, and does not
-terminate, the extent of absolute time. Time has no
-beginning and no end; but the beginning and the end of every
-other existence takes place in it.
-
-3. Time, like space, is not only a form of perception, but
-of _intuition_. We contemplate events as {135} taking place
-_in_ time. We consider its parts as added to one another,
-and events as filling a larger or smaller extent of such
-parts. The time which any event takes up is the sum of all
-such parts, and the relation of the same to time is fully
-understood when we can clearly see what portions of time it
-occupies, and what it does not. Thus the relation of known
-occurrences to time is perceived by intuition; and time is a
-form of intuition of the external world.
-
-4. Time is conceived as a quantity of one dimension; it has
-great analogy with a line, but none at all with a surface or
-solid. Time may be considered as consisting of a series of
-instants, which are before and after one another; and they
-have no other relation than this, of _before_ and _after_.
-Just the same would be the case with a series of points
-taken along a line; each would be after those on one side of
-it, and before those on another. Indeed the analogy between
-time, and space of one dimension, is so close, that the same
-terms are applied to both ideas, and we hardly know to which
-they originally belong. Times and lines are alike called
-_long_ and _short_; we speak of the _beginning_ and _end_ of
-a line; of a _point_ of time, and of the _limits_ of a
-portion of duration.
-
-5. But, as has been said, there is nothing in time which
-corresponds to more than one dimension in space, and hence
-nothing which has any obvious analogy with figure. Time
-resembles a line indefinitely extended both ways; all
-partial times are portions of this line; and no mode of
-conceiving time suggests to us a line making any angle with
-the original line, or any other combination which might give
-rise to figures of any kind. The analogy between time and
-space, which in many circumstances is so clear, here
-disappears altogether. Spaces of two and of three
-dimensions, planes and solids, have nothing to which we can
-compare them in the conceptions arising out of time.
-
-6. As figure is a conception solely appropriate to space,
-there is also a conception which peculiarly belongs to time,
-namely, the conception of recurrence of times similarly
-marked; or, as it may be termed, {136} _rhythm_, using this
-word in a general sense. The term rhythm is most commonly
-used to designate the recurrence of times marked by the
-syllables of a verse, or the notes of a melody: but it is
-easy to see that the general conception of such a recurrence
-does not depend on the mode in which it is impressed upon
-the sense. The forms of such recurrence are innumerable.
-Thus in such a line as
- Quádrupedánte putrém sonitú quatit úngula cámpum,
-we have alternately one long or forcible syllable, and two
-short or light ones, recurring over and over. In like manner
-in our own language, in the line
- At the clóse of the dáy when the hámlet is still,
-we have two light and one strong syllable repeated four
-times over. Such repetition is the essence of versification.
-The same kind of rhythm is one of the main elements of
-music, with this difference only, that in music the forcible
-syllables are made so for the purposes of rhythm by their
-length only or principally; for example, if either of the
-above lines were imitated by a melody in the most simple and
-obvious manner, each strong syllable would occupy exactly
-twice as much time as two of the weaker ones. Something very
-analogous to such rhythm may be traced in other parts of
-poetry and art, which we need not here dwell upon. But in
-reference to our present subject, we may remark that by the
-introduction of such rhythm, the flow of time, which appears
-otherwise so perfectly simple and homogeneous, admits of an
-infinite number of varied yet regular modes of progress. All
-the kinds of versification which occur in all languages, and
-the still more varied forms of recurrence of notes of
-different lengths, which are heard in all the varied strains
-of melodies, are only examples of such modifications, or
-configurations as we may call them, of time. They involve
-relations of various portions of time, as figures involve
-relations of various portions of space. But yet the analogy
-between rhythm and figure is by no means very close; for in
-rhythm we have relations of quantity alone in the parts of
-time, whereas in figure we have {137} relations not only of
-quantity, but of a kind altogether different,--namely, of
-position. On the other hand, a _repetition_ of similar
-elements, which does not necessarily occur in figures, is
-quite essential in order to impress upon us that measured
-progress of time of which we here speak. And thus the ideas
-of time and space have each its peculiar and exclusive
-relations; position and figure belonging only to space,
-while repetition and rhythm are appropriate to time.
-
-7. One of the simplest forms of recurrence is _alternation_,
-as when we have alternate strong and slight syllables. For
-instance,--
- Awáke, aríse, or bé for éver fáll'n.
-Or without any subordination, as when we reckon numbers, and
-call them in succession, _odd_, _even_, _odd_, _even_.
-
-8. But the simplest of all forms of recurrence is that which
-has no variety;--in which a series of units, each considered
-as exactly similar to the rest, succeed each other; as
-_one_, _one_, _one_, and so on. In this case, however, we
-are led to consider each unit with reference to all that
-have preceded; and thus the series _one_, _one_, _one_, and
-so forth, becomes _one_, _two_, _three_, _four_, _five_, and
-so on; a series with which all are familiar, and which may
-be continued without limit.
-
-We thus collect from that repetition of which time admits,
-the conception of _Number_.
-
-9. The relations of position and figure are the subject of
-the science of geometry; and are, as we have already said,
-traced into a very remarkable and extensive body of truths,
-which rests for its foundations on axioms involved in the
-Idea of Space. There is, in like manner, a science of great
-complexity and extent, which has its foundation in the Idea
-of Time. But this science, as it is usually pursued, applies
-only to the conception of Number, which is, as we have said,
-the simplest result of repetition. This science is
-_Theoretical Arithmetic_, or the speculative doctrine of the
-properties and relations of numbers; and we must say a few
-words concerning the principles which it is requisite to
-assume as the basis of this science.
-
-
-
-{{138}}
-CHAPTER IX.
-
-OF THE AXIOMS WHICH RELATE TO NUMBER.
-
-
-1. THE foundations of our speculative knowledge of the
-relations and properties of Number, as well as of Space, are
-contained in the mode in which we represent to ourselves the
-magnitudes which are the subjects of our reasonings. To
-express these foundations in axioms in the case of number,
-is a matter requiring some consideration, for the same
-reason as in the case of geometry; that is, because these
-axioms are principles which we assume as true, without being
-aware that we have made any assumption; and we cannot,
-without careful scrutiny, determine when we have stated, in
-the form of axioms, all that is necessary for the formation
-of the science, and no more than is necessary. We will,
-however, attempt to detect the principles which really must
-form the basis of theoretical arithmetic.
-
-2. Why is it that three and two are equal to four and one?
-Because if we look at five things of any kind, we see that
-it is so. The five are four and one; they are also three and
-two. The truth of our assertion is involved in our being
-able to conceive the number five at all. We perceive this
-truth by _intuition_, for we cannot see, or imagine we see,
-five things, without perceiving also that the assertion
-above stated is true.
-
-But how do we state in words this fundamental principle of
-the doctrine of numbers? Let us consider a very simple case.
-If we wish to show that seven and two are equal to four and
-five, we say that seven are four and three, _therefore_
-seven and two are four and three and two; and because three
-and two are {139} five, this is four and five. Mathematical
-reasoners justify the first inference (marked by the
-conjunctive word _therefore_), by saying that "When equals
-are added to equals the wholes are equal," and that thus,
-since seven is equal to three and four, if we add two to
-both, seven and two are equal to four and three and two.
-
-3. Such _axioms_ as this, that when equals are added to
-equals the wholes are equal, are, in fact, expressions of
-the general condition of intuition, by which a whole is
-contemplated as made up of parts, and as identical with the
-aggregate of the parts. And a yet more general form in which
-we might more adequately express this condition of intuition
-would be this; that 'Two magnitudes are equal when they can
-be divided into parts which are equal, each to each.' Thus
-in the above example, seven and two are equal to four and
-five, because each of the two sums can be divided into the
-parts, four, three, and two.
-
-4. In all these cases, a person who had never seen such
-axioms enunciated in a verbal form would employ the same
-reasoning as a practised mathematician, in order to satisfy
-himself that the proposition was true. The steps of the
-reasoning, being seen to be true by intuition, would carry
-an entire conviction, whether or not the argument were made
-verbally complete. Hence the axioms may appear superfluous,
-and on this account such axioms have often been spoken
-contemptuously of, as empty and barren assertions. In fact,
-however, although they cannot supply the deficiency of the
-clear intuition of number and space in the reasoner himself,
-and although when he possesses such a faculty, he will
-reason rightly if he have never heard of such axioms, they
-still have their place properly at the beginning of our
-treatises on the science of quantity; since they express, as
-simply as words can express, those conditions of the
-intuition of magnitudes on which all reasoning concerning
-quantity must be based; and are necessary when we want, not
-only to see the truth of the elementary reasonings on these
-subjects, but to put such reasonings in a formal and logical
-shape. {140}
-
-5. We have considered the above-mentioned axioms as the
-basis of all arithmetical operations of the nature of
-_addition_. But it is easily seen that the same principle
-may be carried into other cases; as for instance,
-_multiplication_, which is merely a repeated addition, and
-admits of the same kind of evidence. Thus five times three
-are equal to three times five; why is this? If we arrange
-fifteen things in five rows of three, it is seen by looking,
-or by imaginary looking, which is _intuition_, that they may
-also be taken as three rows of five. And thus the principle
-that those wholes are equal which can be resolved into the
-same partial magnitudes, is immediately applicable in this
-as in the other case.
-
-6. We may proceed to higher numbers, and may find ourselves
-obliged to use artificial nomenclature and notation in order
-to represent and reckon them; but the reasoning in these
-cases also is still the same. And the usual artifice by
-which our reasoning in such instances is assisted is, that
-the number which is the root of our scale of notation (which
-is _ten_ in our usual system), is alternately separated into
-parts and treated as a single thing. Thus 47 and 35 are 82;
-for 47 is four tens and seven; 35 is three tens and five;
-whence 47 and 35 are seven tens and twelve; that is, 7 tens,
-1 ten, and 2; which is 8 tens and 2, or 82. The like
-reasoning is applicable in other cases. And since the most
-remote and complex properties of numbers are obtained by a
-prolongation of a course of reasoning exactly similar to
-that by which we thus establish the most elementary
-propositions, we have, in the principles just noticed, the
-foundation of the whole of Theoretical Arithmetic.
-
-
-
-{{141}}
-CHAPTER X.
-
-OF THE PERCEPTION OF TIME AND NUMBER.
-
-
-1. OUR perception of the passage of time involves a series
-of acts of memory. This is easily seen and assented to, when
-large intervals of time and a complex train of occurrences
-are concerned. But since memory is requisite in order to
-apprehend time in such cases, we cannot doubt that the same
-faculty must be concerned in the shortest and simplest cases
-of succession; for it will hardly be maintained that the
-process by which we contemplate the progress of time is
-different, when small, and when large intervals are
-concerned. If memory be absolutely requisite to connect two
-events which begin and end a day, and to perceive a tract of
-time between them, it must be equally indispensable to
-connect the beginning and end of a minute, or a second;
-though in this case the effort may be smaller, and
-consequently more easily overlooked. In common cases, we are
-unconscious of the act of thought by which we recollect the
-preceding instant, though we perceive the effort when we
-recollect some distant event. And this is analogous to what
-happens in other instances. Thus, we walk without being
-conscious of the volitions by which we move our muscles;
-but, in order to leap, a distinct and manifest exertion of
-the same muscles is necessary. Yet no one will doubt that we
-walk as well as leap by an act of the will exerted through
-the muscles; and in like manner, our consciousness of small
-as well as large intervals of time involves something of the
-nature of an act of memory.
-
-2. But this constant and almost imperceptible kind of
-memory, by which we connect the beginning and {142} end of
-each instant as it passes, may very fitly be distinguished
-in common cases from manifest acts of recollection, although
-it may be difficult or impossible to separate the two
-operations in general. This perpetual and latent kind of
-memory may be termed a _sense of successiveness_; and must
-be considered as an internal sense by which we perceive
-ourselves existing in time, much in the same way as by our
-external and muscular sense we perceive ourselves existing
-in space. And both our internal thoughts and feelings, and
-the events which take place around us, are apprehended as
-objects of this internal sense, and thus as taking place in
-time.
-
-3. In the same manner in which our interpretation of the
-notices of the muscular sense implies the power of moving
-our limbs, and of touching at will this object or that; our
-apprehension of the relations of time, by means of the
-internal sense of successiveness, implies a power of
-recalling what has past, and of retaining what is passing.
-We are able to seize the occurrences which have just taken
-place, and to hold them fast in our minds so as mentally to
-measure their distance in time from occurrences now present.
-And thus, this sense of successiveness, like the muscular
-sense with which we have compared it, implies activity of
-the mind itself, and is not a sense passively receiving
-impressions.
-
-4. The conception of _Number_ appears to require the
-exercise of the same sense of succession. At first sight,
-indeed, we seem to apprehend Number without any act of
-memory, or any reference to time: for example, we look at a
-horse, and see that his legs are four; and this we seem to
-do at once, without reckoning them. But it is not difficult
-to see that this seeming instantaneousness of the perception
-of small numbers is an illusion. This resembles the many
-other cases in which we perform short and easy acts so
-rapidly and familiarly that we are unconscious of them; as
-in the acts of seeing, and of articulating our words. And
-this is the more manifest, since we begin our acquaintance
-with number by counting even the {143} smallest numbers.
-Children and very rude savages must use an effort to reckon
-even their five fingers, and find a difficulty in going
-further. And persons have been known who were able by habit,
-or by a peculiar natural aptitude, to count by dozens as
-rapidly as common persons can by units. We may conclude,
-therefore, that when we appear to catch a small number by a
-single glance of the eye, we do in fact count the units of
-it in a regular, though very brief succession. To count
-requires an act of memory. Of this we are sensible when we
-count very slowly, as when we reckon the strokes of a
-church-clock; for in such a case we may forget in the
-intervals of the strokes, and _miscount_. Now it will not be
-doubted that the nature of the process in counting is the
-same whether we count fast or slow. There is no definite
-speed of reckoning at which the faculties which it requires
-are changed; and therefore memory, which is requisite in
-some cases, must be so in all[13\2].
-
-[Note 13\2: I have considered Number as involving the
-exercise of the sense of succession, because I cannot draw
-any line between those cases of large numbers, in which, the
-process of counting being performed, there is a manifest
-apprehension of succession; and those cases of small
-numbers, in which we seem to see the number at one glance.
-But if any one holds Number to be apprehended by a direct
-act of intuition, as Space and Time are, this view will not
-disturb the other doctrines delivered in the text.]
-
-The act of counting, (_one_, _two_, _three_, and so on,) is
-the foundation of all our knowledge of number. The intuition
-of the relations of number involves this act of counting;
-for, as we have just seen, the conception of number cannot
-be obtained in any other way. And thus the whole of
-theoretical arithmetic depends upon an act of the mind, and
-upon the conditions which the exercise of that act implies.
-These have been already explained in the last chapter.
-
-5. But if the apprehension of number be accompanied by an
-act of the mind, the apprehension of _rhythm_ is so still
-more clearly. All the forms of versification and the
-_measures_ of melodies are the creations of man, who thus
-realizes in words and sounds the {144} forms of recurrence
-which rise within his own mind. When we hear in a quiet
-scene any rapidly-repeated sound, as those made by the
-hammer of the smith or the saw of the carpenter, every one
-knows how insensibly we throw these noises into a rhythmical
-form in our own apprehension. We do this even without any
-suggestion from the sounds themselves. For instance, if the
-beats of a clock or watch be ever so exactly alike, we still
-reckon them alternately tick-_tack_, tick-_tack_. That this
-is the case, may be proved by taking a watch or clock of
-such a construction that the returning swing of the pendulum
-is silent, and in which therefore all the beats are
-rigorously alike: we shall find ourselves still reckoning
-its sounds as tick-_tack_. In this instance it is manifest
-that the rhythm is entirely of our own making. In melodies,
-also, and in verses in which the rhythm is complex, obscure
-and difficult, we perceive something is required on our
-part; for we are often incapable of contributing our share,
-and thus lose the sense of the measure altogether. And when
-we consider such cases, and attend to what passes within us
-when we catch the measure, even of the simplest and
-best-known air, we shall no longer doubt that an act of our
-own thoughts is requisite in such cases, as well as
-impressions on the sense. And thus the conception of this
-peculiar modification of time, which we have called
-_rhythm_, like all the other views which we have taken of
-the subject, shows that we must, in order to form such
-conceptions, supply a certain idea by our own thoughts, as
-well as merely receive by senses, whether external or
-internal, the impressions of appearances and collections of
-appearances.
-
-
-
-{{145}}
-NOTE TO CHAPTER X.
-
-
-I HAVE in the last ten chapters described Space, Time, and
-Number by various expressions, all intended to point out
-their office as exemplifying the Ideal Element of human
-knowledge. I have called them _Fundamental Ideas_; _Forms of
-Perception_; _Forms of Intuition_; and perhaps other names.
-I might add yet other phrases. I might say that the
-properties of Space, Time, and Number are _Laws of the
-Mind's Activity_ in apprehending what is. For the mind
-cannot apprehend any thing or event except conformably to
-the properties of space, time, and number. It is not only
-that it _does_ not, but it _can_ not: and this impossibility
-shows that the law is a law of the mind, and not of objects
-extraneous to the mind.
-
-It is usual for some of those who reject the doctrines here
-presented to say that the axioms of geometry, and of other
-sciences, are obtained by Induction from facts constantly
-presented by experience. But I do not see how Induction can
-prove that a proposition _must_ be true. The only
-intelligible usage of the word _Induction_ appears to me to
-be, that in which it is applied to a proposition which,
-being separable from the facts in our apprehension, and
-being compared with them, is seen to agree with them. But in
-the cases now spoken of, the proposition is not separable
-from the facts. We cannot infer by induction that two
-straight lines cannot inclose a space, because we cannot
-contemplate special cases of two lines inclosing a space, in
-which it remains to be determined whether or not the
-proposition, that both are straight, is true.
-
-I do not deny that the activity of the mind by which it
-perceives objects and events as related according to the
-laws of space, time, and number, is awakened and developed
-by being constantly exercised; and that we cannot imagine a
-stage of human existence in which the powers have not been
-awakened and {146} developed by such exercise. In this way,
-experience and observation are necessary conditions and
-prerequisites of our apprehension of geometrical (and other)
-axioms. We cannot see the truth of these axioms without some
-experience, because we cannot see any thing, or be human
-beings, without some experience. This might be expressed by
-saying that such truths are acquired necessarily _in the
-course of_ all experience; but I think it is very
-undesirable to apply, to such a case, the word _Induction_,
-of which it is so important to us to keep the scientific
-meaning free from confusion. Induction cannot give
-demonstrative proofs, as I have already stated in Book 1. C.
-i. sect. 3, and therefore cannot be the ground of necessary
-truths.
-
-Another expression which may be used to describe the
-Fundamental Ideas here spoken of is suggested by the
-language of a very profound and acute Review of the former
-edition. The Reviewer holds that we pass from special
-experiences to universal truths in virtue of 'the inductive
-propensity--the irresistible impulse of the mind to
-generalize _ad infinitum_.' I have already given reasons why
-I cannot adopt the former expression; but I do not see why
-space, time, number, cause, and the rest, may not be termed
-_different forms_ of the _impulse of the mind to
-generalize_. But if we put together all the Fundamental
-Ideas as results of the Generalizing Impulse, we must still
-separate them as different modes of action of that Impulse,
-showing themselves in various characteristic ways in the
-axioms and modes of reasoning which belong to different
-sciences. The Generalizing Impulse in one case proceeds
-according to the Idea of Space; in another, according to the
-Idea of Mechanical Cause; and so in other subjects.
-
-
-
-{{147}}
-CHAPTER XI.
-
-OF MATHEMATICAL REASONING.
-
-
-1. _Discursive Reasoning._--WE have thus seen that our
-notions of space, time, and their modifications, necessarily
-involve a certain activity of the mind; and that the
-conditions of this activity form the foundations of those
-sciences which have the relations of space, time, and
-number, for their object. Upon the fundamental principles
-thus established, the various sciences which are included in
-the term _Pure Mathematics_, (Geometry, Algebra,
-Trigonometry, Conic Sections, and the rest of the Higher
-Geometry, the Differential Calculus, and the like,) are
-built up by a series of reasonings. These reasonings are
-subject to the rules of Logic, as we have already remarked;
-nor is it necessary here to dwell long on the nature and
-rules of such processes. But we may here notice that such
-processes are termed _discursive_, in opposition to the
-operations by which we acquire our fundamental principles,
-which are, as we have seen, _intuitive_. This opposition was
-formerly very familiar to our writers; as Milton,--
- . . . Thus the soul reason receives,
- Discursive or intuitive.--_Paradise Lost_, v. 438.
-For in such reasonings we obtain our conclusions, not by
-looking at our conceptions steadily in one view, which is
-_intuition_, but by passing from one view to another, like
-those who run from place to place (_discursus_). Thus a
-straight line may be at the same time a side of a triangle
-and a radius of a circle: and in the first proposition of
-Euclid a line is considered, first in one of these
-relations, and then in the other, and thus the sides of a
-certain triangle are proved to be equal. And by this
-'discourse of reason,' as by our older {148} writers it was
-termed, we set forth from those axioms which we perceive by
-intuition, travel securely over a vast and varied region,
-and become possessed of a copious store of mathematical
-truths.
-
-2. _Technical Terms of Reasoning._--The reasoning of
-mathematics, thus proceeding from a few simple principles to
-many truths, is conducted according to the rules of Logic.
-If it be necessary, mathematical proofs may be reduced to
-logical forms, and expressed in Syllogisms, consisting of
-major, minor, and conclusion. But in most cases the
-syllogism is of that kind which is called by logical writers
-an _Enthymeme_; a word which implies something existing in
-the thoughts only, and which designates a syllogism in which
-one of the premises is understood, and not expressed. Thus
-we say in a mathematical proof, 'because the point C is the
-center of the circle AB, AC is equal to BC;' not stating the
-_major_,--that all lines drawn from the center of a circle
-to the circumference are equal; or introducing it only by a
-transient reference to the definition of a circle. But the
-enthymeme is so constantly used in all habitual forms of
-reasoning, that it does not occur to us as being anything
-peculiar in mathematical works.
-
-The propositions which are proved to be generally true are
-termed _Theorems_: but when anything is required to be done,
-as to draw a line or a circle under given conditions, this
-proposition is a _Problem_. A theorem requires
-demonstration; a problem, solution. And for both purposes
-the mathematician usually makes a _Construction_. He directs
-us to draw certain lines, circles, or other curves, on which
-is to be founded his demonstration that his theorem is true,
-or that his problem is solved. Sometimes, too, he
-establishes some _Lemma_, or preparatory proposition, before
-he proceeds to his main task; and often he deduces from his
-demonstration some conclusion in addition to that which was
-the professed object of his proposition; and this is termed
-a _Corollary_.
-
-These technical terms are noted here, not as being very
-important, but in order that they may not sound {149}
-strange and unintelligible if we should have occasion to use
-some of them. There is, however, one technical distinction
-more peculiar, and more important.
-
-3. _Geometrical Analysis and Synthesis._--In geometrical
-reasoning such as we have described, we introduce at every
-step some new consideration; and it is by combining all
-these considerations, that we arrive at the conclusion, that
-is, the demonstration of the proposition. Each step tends to
-the final result, by exhibiting some part of the figure
-under a new relation. To what we have already proved, is
-added something more; and hence this process is called
-_Synthesis_, or _putting together_. The proof flows on,
-receiving at every turn new contributions from different
-quarters; like a river fed and augmented by many tributary
-streams. And each of these tributaries flows from some
-definition or axiom as its fountain, or is itself formed by
-the union of smaller rivulets which have sources of this
-kind. In descending along its course, the synthetical proof
-gathers all these accessions into one common trunk, the
-proposition finally proved.
-
-But we may proceed in a different manner. We may begin from
-the formed river, and ascend to its sources. We may take the
-proposition of which we require a proof, and may examine
-what the supposition of its truth implies. If this be true,
-then something else may be seen to be true; and from this,
-something else, and so on. We may often, in this way,
-discover of what simpler propositions our theorem or
-solution is compounded, and may resolve these in succession,
-till we come to some proposition which is obvious. This is
-geometrical _Analysis_. Having succeeded in this analytical
-process, we may invert it; and may descend again from the
-simple and known propositions, to the proof of a theorem, or
-the solution of a problem, which was our starting-place.
-
-This process resembles, as we have said, tracing a river to
-its sources. As we ascend the stream, we perpetually meet
-with bifurcations; and some sagacity is needed to enable us
-to see which, in each case, is the main stream: but if we
-proceed in our research, we {150} exhaust the unexplored
-valleys, and finally obtain a clear knowledge of the place
-whence the waters flow. _Analytical_ is sometimes confounded
-with _symbolical_ reasoning, on which subject we shall make
-a remark in the next chapter. The object of that chapter is
-to notice certain other fundamental principles and ideas,
-not included in those hitherto spoken of, which we find
-thrown in our way as we proceed in our mathematical
-speculations. It would detain us too long, and involve us in
-subtle and technical disquisitions, to examine fully the
-grounds of these principles; but the Mathematics hold so
-important a place in relation to the inductive sciences,
-that I shall briefly notice the leading ideas which the
-ulterior progress of the subject involves.
-
-
-
-{{151}}
-CHAPTER XII.
-
-OF THE FOUNDATIONS OF THE HIGHER MATHEMATICS.
-
-
-1. _The Idea of a Limit._--THE general truths concerning
-relations of space which depend upon the axioms and
-definitions contained in Euclid's _Elements_, and which
-involve only properties of straight lines and circles, are
-termed Elementary Geometry: all beyond this belongs to the
-Higher Geometry. To this latter province appertain, for
-example, all propositions respecting the lengths of any
-portions of curve lines; for these cannot be obtained by
-means of the principles of the Elements alone. Here then we
-must ask to what other principles the geometer has recourse,
-and from what source these are drawn. Is there any origin of
-geometrical truth which we have not yet explored?
-
-The _Idea of a Limit_ supplies a new mode of establishing
-mathematical truths. Thus with regard to the length of any
-portion of a curve, a problem which we have just mentioned;
-a curve is not made up of straight lines, and therefore we
-cannot by means of any of the doctrines of elementary
-geometry measure the length of any curve. But we may make up
-a figure nearly resembling any curve by putting together
-many short straight lines, just as a polygonal building of
-very many sides may nearly resemble a circular room. And in
-order to approach nearer and nearer to the curve, we may
-make the sides more and more small, more and more numerous.
-We may then possibly find some mode of measurement, some
-relation of these small lines to other lines, which is not
-disturbed by the multiplication of the sides, however far it
-be carried. And thus, we may do what is equivalent to
-measuring the curve itself; for by multiplying the {152}
-sides we may approach more and more closely to the curve
-till no appreciable difference remains. The curve line is
-the _Limit_ of the polygon; and in this process we proceed
-on the _Axiom_, that 'What is true up to the Limit is true
-at the Limit.'
-
-This mode of conceiving mathematical magnitudes is of wide
-extent and use; for every curve may be considered as the
-limit of some polygon; every varied magnitude, as the limit
-of some aggregate of simpler forms; and thus the relations
-of the elementary figures enable us to advance to the
-properties of the most complex cases.
-
-A Limit is a peculiar and fundamental conception, the use of
-which in proving the propositions of the Higher Geometry
-cannot be superseded by any combination of other hypotheses
-and definitions[14\2]. The axiom just noticed, that what is
-true up to the limit is true at the limit, is involved in
-the very conception of a Limit: and this principle, with its
-consequences, leads to all the results which form the
-subject of the higher mathematics, whether proved by the
-consideration of evanescent triangles, by the processes of
-the Differential Calculus, or in any other way.
-
-[Note 14\2: This assertion cannot be fully proved and
-illustrated without a reference to mathematical reasonings
-which would not be generally intelligible. I have shown the
-truth of the assertion in my _Thoughts on the Study of
-Mathematics_, annexed to the _Principles of English
-University Education_. The proof is of this kind:--The
-ultimate equality of an arc of a curve and the corresponding
-periphery of a polygon, when the sides of the polygon are
-indefinitely increased in number, is _evident_. But this
-truth cannot be proved from any other axiom. For if we take
-the supposed axiom, that a curve is always less than the
-including broken line, this is not true, except with a
-condition; and in tracing the import of this condition, we
-find its necessity becomes evident only when we introduce a
-reference to a Limit. And the same is the case if we attempt
-to supersede the notion of a Limit in proving any other
-simple and evident proposition in which that notion is
-involved. Therefore these evident truths are _self_-evident,
-_in virtue of the Idea of a Limit_.]
-
-The ancients did not expressly introduce this conception of
-a Limit into their mathematical reasonings; although in the
-application of what is termed the {153} _Method of
-Exhaustions_, (in which they show how to _exhaust_ the
-_difference_ between a polygon and a curve, or the like,)
-they were in fact proceeding upon an obscure apprehension of
-principles equivalent to those of the Method of Limits. Yet
-the necessary fundamental principle not having, in their
-time, been clearly developed, their reasonings were both
-needlessly intricate and imperfectly satisfactory. Moreover
-they were led to put in the place of axioms, assumptions
-which were by no means self-evident; as when Archimedes
-assumed, for the basis of his measure of the circumference
-of the circle, the proposition that a circular arc is
-necessarily less than two lines which inclose it, joining
-its extremities. The reasonings of the older mathematicians,
-which professed to proceed upon such assumptions, led to
-true results in reality, only because they were guided by a
-latent reference to the limiting case of such assumptions.
-And this latent employment of the conception of a Limit,
-reappeared in various forms during the early period of
-modern mathematics; as for example, in the _Method of
-Indivisibles_ of Cavalleri, and the _Characteristic
-Triangle_ of Barrow; till at last, Newton distinctly
-referred such reasonings to the conception of a Limit, and
-established the fundamental principles and processes which
-that conception introduces, with a distinctness and
-exactness which required little improvement to make it as
-unimpeachable as the demonstrations of geometry. And when
-such processes as Newton thus deduced from the conception of
-a Limit, are represented by means of general algebraical
-symbols instead of geometrical diagrams, we have then before
-us the _Method of Fluxions_, or the _Differential Calculus_;
-a mode of treating mathematical problems justly considered
-as the principal weapon by which the splendid triumphs of
-modern mathematics have been achieved.
-
-2. _The Use of General Symbols._--The employment of
-algebraical symbols, of which we have just spoken, has been
-another of the main instruments to which the successes of
-modern mathematics are owing. And here again the processes
-by which we obtain our {154} results depend for their
-evidence upon a fundamental conception,--the conception of
-_arbitrary symbols_ as the _Signs_ of quantity and its
-relations; and upon a corresponding axiom, that 'The
-interpretation of such symbols must be perfectly general.'
-In this case, as in the last, it was only by degrees that
-mathematicians were led to a just apprehension of the
-grounds of their reasoning. For symbols were at first used
-only to represent numbers considered with regard to their
-numerical properties; and thus the science of Algebra was
-formed. But it was found, even in cases belonging to common
-algebra, that the symbols often admitted of an
-interpretation which went beyond the limits of the problem,
-and which yet was not unmeaning, since it pointed out a
-question closely analogous to the question proposed. This
-was the case, for example, when the answer was a _negative
-quantity_; for when Descartes had introduced the mode of
-representing curves by means of algebraical relations among
-the symbols of the _co-ordinates_, or distances of each of
-their points from fixed lines, it was found that negative
-quantities must be dealt with as not less truly significant
-than positive ones. And as the researches of mathematicians
-proceeded, other cases also were found, in which the
-symbols, although destitute of meaning according to the
-original conventions of their institution, still pointed out
-truths which could be verified in other ways; as in the
-cases in which what are called _impossible quantities_
-occur. Such processes may usually be confirmed upon other
-principles, and the truth in question may be established by
-means of a demonstration in which no such seeming fallacies
-defeat the reasoning. But it has also been shown in many
-such cases, that the process in which some of the steps
-appear to be without real meaning, does in fact involve a
-valid proof of the proposition. And what we have here to
-remark is, that this is not true accidentally or partially
-only, but that the results of systematic symbolical
-reasoning must _always_ express general truths, by their
-nature; and do not, for their justification, require each of
-the steps of the process to represent {155} some definite
-operation upon quantity. _The absolute universality of the
-interpretation of symbols_ is the fundamental principle of
-their use. This has been shown very ably by Dr. Peacock in
-his _Algebra_. He has there illustrated, in a variety of
-ways, this principle: that 'If general symbols express an
-identity when they are supposed to be of any special nature,
-they must also express an identity when they are general in
-their nature.' And thus, this universality of symbols is a
-principle in addition to those we have already noticed; and
-is a principle of the greatest importance in the formation
-of mathematical science, according to the wide generality
-which such science has in modern times assumed.
-
-3. _Connexion of Symbols and Analysis._--Since in our
-symbolical reasoning our symbols thus reason for us, we do
-not necessarily here, as in geometrical reasoning, go on
-adding carefully one known truth to another, till we reach
-the desired result. On the contrary, if we have a theorem to
-prove or a problem to solve which can be brought under the
-domain of our symbols, we may at once state the given but
-unproved truth, or the given combination of unknown
-quantities, in its symbolical form. After this first
-process, we may then proceed to trace, by means of our
-symbols, what other truth is involved in the one just
-stated, or what the unknown symbols must signify; resolving
-step by step the symbolical assertion with which we began,
-into others more fitted for our purpose. The former process
-is a kind of _synthesis_, the latter is termed _analysis_.
-And although symbolical reasoning does not necessarily imply
-such analysis; yet the connexion is so familiar, that the
-term _analysis_ is frequently used to designate symbolical
-reasoning.
-
-
-
-{{156}}
-CHAPTER XIII.
-
-THE DOCTRINE OF MOTION.
-
-
-1. _Pure Mechanism._--THE doctrine of Motion, of which we
-have here to speak, is that in which motion is considered
-quite independently of its cause, force; for all
-consideration of force belongs to a class of ideas entirely
-different from those with which we are here concerned. In
-this view it may be termed the _pure_ doctrine of motion,
-since it has to do solely with space and time, which are the
-subjects of pure mathematics. (See c. i. of this book.)
-Although the doctrine of motion in connexion with force,
-which is the subject of mechanics, is by far the most
-important form in which the consideration of motion enters
-into the formation of our sciences, the Pure Doctrine of
-Motion, which treats of space, time, and velocity, might be
-followed out so as to give rise to a very considerable and
-curious body of science. Such a science is the science of
-Mechanism, independent of force, and considered as the
-solution of a problem which may be thus enunciated: 'To
-communicate any given motion from a first mover to a given
-body.' The science which should have for its object to solve
-all the various cases into which this problem would ramify,
-might be termed _Pure Mechanism_, in contradistinction to
-_Mechanics Proper_, or _Machinery_, in which Force is taken
-into consideration. The greater part of the machines which
-have been constructed for use in manufactures have been
-practical solutions of some of the cases of this problem. We
-have also important contributions to such a science in the
-works of Mathematicians; for example, the various
-investigations and demonstrations which have been published
-respecting the form of the Teeth {157} of Wheels, and Mr.
-Babbage's memoir[15\2] on the Language of Machinery. There
-are also several works which contain collections of the
-mechanical contrivances which have been invented for the
-purpose of transmitting and modifying motion, and these
-works may be considered as treatises on the science of Pure
-Mechanism. But this science has not yet been reduced to the
-systematic simplicity which is desirable, nor indeed
-generally recognized as a separate science. It has been
-confounded, under the common name of _Mechanics_, with the
-other **science, Mechanics Proper, or Machinery, which
-considers the effect of _force_ transmitted by Mechanism
-from one part of a material combination to another. For
-example, the _Mechanical Powers_, as they are usually
-termed, (the Lever, the Wheel and Axle, the Inclined Plane,
-the Wedge, and the Screw,) have almost always been treated
-with reference to the relation between the _Power_ and the
-_Weight_, and not primarily as a mode of changing the
-velocity and kind of the motion. The science of pure motion
-has not generally been separated from the science of motion
-viewed with reference to its causes.
-
-[Note 15\2: _On a Method of expressing by Signs the action
-of Machinery._ _Phil. Trans._ 1826, p. 250.]
-
-Recently, indeed, the necessity of such a separation has
-been seen by those who have taken a philosophical view of
-science. Thus this necessity has been urged by M. Ampère, in
-his _Essai sur la Philosophie des Sciences_ (1834): 'Long,'
-he says, (p. 50,) 'before I employed myself upon the present
-work, I had remarked that it is usual to omit, in the
-beginning of all books treating of sciences which regard
-motion and force, certain considerations which, duly
-developed, must constitute a special science: of which
-science certain parts have been treated of, either in
-memoirs or in special works; such, for example, as that of
-Carnot upon Motion considered Geometrically, and the essay
-of Lanz and Betancourt upon the Composition of Machines.' He
-then proceeds to describe this science nearly as we have
-{158} done, and proposes to term it _Kinematics_
-(_Cinématique_), from κίνημα, motion.
-
-2. _Formal Astronomy._--I shall not attempt here further to
-develop the form which such a science must assume. But I may
-notice one very large province which belongs to it. When men
-had ascertained the apparent motions of the sun, moon, and
-stars, to a moderate degree of regularity and accuracy, they
-tried to conceive in their minds some mechanism by which
-these motions might be produced; and thus they in fact
-proposed to themselves a very extensive problem in
-_Kinematics_. This, indeed, was the view originally
-entertained of the nature of the science of astronomy. Thus
-Plato in the seventh Book of his _Republic_[16\2], speaks of
-astronomy as the doctrine of the motion of solids, meaning
-thereby, spheres. And the same was a proper description of
-the science till the time of Kepler, and even later: for
-Kepler endeavoured in vain to conjoin with the knowledge of
-the motions of the heavenly bodies, those true mechanical
-conceptions which converted formal into physical
-astronomy[17\2].
-
-[Note 16\2: P. 528.]
-
-[Note 17\2: _Hist. Induc. Sc._ ii. 130.]
-
-The astronomy of the ancients admitted none but uniform
-circular motions, and could therefore be completely
-cultivated by the aid of their elementary geometry. But the
-pure science of motion might be extended to all motions,
-however varied as to the speed or the path of the moving
-body. In this form it must depend upon the doctrine of
-limits; and the fundamental principle of its reasonings
-would be this: That velocity is measured by the Limit of the
-_space_ described, considered with reference to the _time_
-in which it is described. I shall not further pursue this
-subject; and in order to complete what I have to say
-respecting the Pure Sciences, I have only a few words to add
-respecting their bearing on Inductive Science in general.
-
-
-
-{{159}}
-CHAPTER XIV.
-
-OF THE APPLICATION OF MATHEMATICS TO THE INDUCTIVE SCIENCES.
-
-
-1. ALL objects in the world which can be made the subjects
-of our contemplation are subordinate to the conditions of
-Space, Time, and Number; and on this account, the doctrines
-of pure mathematics have most numerous and extensive
-applications in every department of our investigations of
-nature. And there is a peculiarity in these Ideas, which has
-caused the mathematical sciences to be, in all cases, the
-first successful efforts of the awakening speculative powers
-of nations at the commencement of their intellectual
-progress. Conceptions derived from these Ideas are, from the
-very first, perfectly precise and clear, so as to be fit
-elements of scientific truths. This is not the case with the
-other conceptions which form the subjects of scientific
-inquiries. The conception of _statical force_, for instance,
-was never presented in a distinct form till the works of
-Archimedes appeared: the conception of _accelerating force_
-was confused, in the mind of Kepler and his contemporaries,
-and only became clear enough for purposes of sound
-scientific reasoning in the succeeding century: the just
-conception of chemical _composition_ of elements gradually,
-in modern times, emerged from the erroneous and vague
-notions of the ancients. If we take works published on such
-subjects before the epoch when the foundations of the true
-science were laid, we find the knowledge not only small, but
-worthless. The writers did not see any evidence in what we
-now consider as the axioms of the science; nor any
-inconsistency where we now see self-contradiction. But this
-was never the case with speculations concerning {160} space
-and number. From their first rise, these were true as far as
-they went. The Geometry and Arithmetic of the Greeks and
-Indians, even in their first and most scanty form, contained
-none but true propositions. Men's intuitions upon these
-subjects never allowed them to slide into error and
-confusion; and the truths to which they were led by the
-first efforts of their faculties, so employed, form part of
-the present stock of our mathematical knowledge.
-
-2. But we are here not so much concerned with mathematics in
-their pure form, as with their application to the phenomena
-and laws of nature. And here also the very earliest history
-of civilization presents to us some of the most remarkable
-examples of man's success in his attempts to attain to
-science. Space and time, position and motion, govern all
-visible objects; but by far the most conspicuous examples of
-the relations which arise out of such elements, are
-displayed by the ever-moving luminaries of the sky, which
-measure days, and months, and years, by their motions, and
-man's place on the earth by their position. Hence the
-sciences of space and number were from the first cultivated
-with peculiar reference to Astronomy. I have elsewhere[18\2]
-quoted Plato's remark,--that it is absurd to call the
-science of the relations of space _geometry_, the measure of
-the earth, since its most important office is to be found in
-its application to the heavens. And on other occasions also
-it appears how strongly he, who may be considered as the
-representative of the scientific and speculative tendencies
-of his time and country, had been impressed with the
-conviction, that the formation of a science of the celestial
-motions must depend entirely upon the progress of
-mathematics. In the Epilogue to the Dialogue on the
-Laws[19\2], he declares mathematical knowledge to be the
-first and main requisite for the astronomer, and describes
-the portions of it which he holds necessary for astronomical
-speculators to cultivate. These seem to be, Plane Geometry,
-Theoretical Arithmetic, the Application of Arithmetic {161}
-to planes and to solids, and finally the doctrine of
-Harmonics. Indeed the bias of Plato appears to be rather to
-consider mathematics as the essence of the science of
-astronomy, than as its instrument; and he seems disposed, in
-this as in other things, to disparage observation, and to
-aspire after a science founded upon demonstration alone. 'An
-astronomer,' he says in the same place, 'must not be like
-Hesiod and persons of that kind, whose astronomy consists in
-noting the settings and risings of the stars; but he must be
-one who understands the revolutions of the celestial
-spheres, each performing its proper cycle.'
-
-[Note 18\2: _Hist. Ind. Sc._ b. iii. c. ii.]
-
-[Note 19\2: _Epinomis_, p. 990.]
-
-A large portion of the mathematics of the Greeks, so long as
-their scientific activity continued, was directed towards
-Astronomy. Besides many curious propositions of plane and
-solid Geometry, to which their astronomers were led, their
-Arithmetic, though very inconvenient in its fundamental
-assumptions (as being sexagesimal not decimal), was
-cultivated to a great extent; and the science of
-Trigonometry, in which problems concerning the relations of
-space were resolved by means of tables of numerical results
-previously obtained, was created. Menelaus of Alexandria
-wrote six Books on Chords, probably containing methods of
-calculating Tables of these quantities; such Tables were
-familiarly used by the later Greek astronomers. The same
-author also wrote three Books on Spherical Trigonometry,
-which are still extant.
-
-3. The Greeks, however, in the first vigour of their pursuit
-of mathematical truth, at the time of Plato and soon after,
-had by no means confined themselves to those propositions
-which had a visible bearing on the phenomena of nature; but
-had followed out many beautiful trains of research,
-concerning various kinds of figures, for the sake of their
-beauty alone; as for instance in their doctrine of Conic
-Sections, of which curves they had discovered all the
-principal properties. But it is curious to remark, that
-these investigations, thus pursued at first as mere matters
-of curiosity and intellectual gratification, were destined,
-two thousand years later, to play a very important part in
-{162} establishing that system of the celestial motions
-which succeeded the Platonic scheme of cycles and epicycles.
-If the properties of the conic sections had not been
-demonstrated by the Greeks, and thus rendered familiar to
-the mathematicians of succeeding ages, Kepler would probably
-not have been able to discover those laws respecting the
-orbits and motions of the planets which were the occasion of
-the greatest revolution that ever happened in the history of
-science.
-
-4. The Arabians, who, as I have elsewhere said, added little
-of their own to the stores of science which they received
-from the Greeks, did however make some very important
-contributions in those portions of pure mathematics which
-are subservient to astronomy. Their adoption of the Indian
-mode of computation by means of the Ten Digits, 1, 2, 3, 4,
-5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 0, and by the method of Local Values, instead
-of the cumbrous sexagesimal arithmetic of the Greeks, was an
-improvement by which the convenience and facility of
-numerical calculations were immeasurably augmented. The
-Arabians also rendered several of the processes of
-trigonometry much more commodious, by using the Sine of an
-arc instead of the Chord; an improvement which Albategnius
-appears to claim for himself[20\2]; and by employing also
-the Tangents of arcs, or, as they called them[21\2],
-_upright shadows_.
-
-[Note 20\2: Delambre, _Ast., M. A._, p. 12.]
-
-[Note 21\2: _Ibid._ p. 17.]
-
-5. The constant application of mathematical knowledge to the
-researches of Astronomy, and the mutual influence of each
-science on the progress of the other, has been still more
-conspicuous in modern times. Newton's Method of Prime and
-Ultimate Ratios, which we have already noticed as the first
-correct exposition of the doctrine of a Limit, is stated in
-a series of Lemmas, or preparatory theorems, prefixed to his
-_Treatise on the System of the World_. Both the properties
-of curve lines and the doctrines concerning force and
-motion, which he had to establish, required that the common
-mathematical processes should be methodized and extended. If
-Newton had not been a most {163} expert and inventive
-mathematician, as well as a profound and philosophical
-thinker, he could never have made any one of those vast
-strides in discovery of which the rapid succession in his
-work strikes us with wonder[22\2]. And if we see that the
-great task begun by him, goes on more slowly in the hands of
-his immediate successors, and lingers a little before its
-full completion, we perceive that this arises, in a great
-measure, from the defect of the mathematical methods then
-used. Newton's synthetical modes of investigation, as we
-have elsewhere observed, were an instrument[23\2], powerful
-indeed in his mighty hand, but too ponderous for other
-persons to employ with effect. The countrymen of Newton
-clung to it the longest, out of veneration for their master;
-and English cultivators of physical astronomy were, on that
-very account, left behind the progress of mathematical
-science in France and Germany, by a wide interval, which
-they have only recently recovered. On the Continent, the
-advantages offered by a familiar use of symbols, and by
-attention to their symmetry and other relations, were
-accepted without reserve. In this manner the Differential
-Calculus of Leibnitz, which was in its origin and
-signification identical with the Method of Fluxions of
-Newton, soon surpassed its rival in the extent and
-generality of its application to problems. This Calculus was
-applied to the science of mechanics, to which it, along with
-the symmetrical use of co-ordinates, gave a new form; for it
-was soon seen that the most difficult problems might in
-general be reduced to finding integrals, which is the
-reciprocal process of that by which differentials are found;
-so that all difficulties of physical astronomy were reduced
-to difficulties of symbolical calculation, these, indeed,
-being often sufficiently stubborn. Clairaut, Euler, and
-D'Alembert employed the increased resources of mathematical
-science upon the Theory of the Moon, and other questions
-relative to the system of the world; and thus began to
-pursue such inquiries in the course in which mathematicians
-{164} are still labouring up to the present day. This course
-was not without its checks and perplexities. We have
-elsewhere quoted[24\2] Clairaut's expression when he had
-obtained the very complex differential equations which
-contain the solution of the problem of the moon's motion:
-'Now integrate them who can!' But in no very long time they
-were integrated, at least approximately; and the methods of
-approximation have since then been improved; so that now,
-with a due expenditure of labour, they may be carried to any
-extent which is thought desirable. If the methods of
-astronomical observation should hereafter reach a higher
-degree of exactness than they now profess, so that
-irregularities in the motions of the sun, moon, and planets,
-shall be detected which at present escape us, the
-mathematical part of the theory of universal gravitation is
-in such a condition that it can soon be brought into
-comparison with the newly-observed facts. Indeed at present
-the mathematical theory is in advance of such observations.
-It can venture to suggest what may afterwards be detected,
-as well as to explain what has already been observed. This
-has happened recently; for Professor Airy has calculated the
-law and amount of an inequality depending upon the mutual
-attraction of the Earth and Venus; of which inequality (so
-small is it,) it remains to be determined whether its effect
-can be traced in the series of astronomical observations.
-
-[Note 22\2: _Hist. Ind. Sc._ b. vii. c. ii.]
-
-[Note 23\2: _Ibid._ p. 175.]
-
-[Note 24\2: _Hist. Ind. Sc._ b. vi. c. vi. sect. 7.]
-
-6. As the influence of mathematics upon the progress of
-astronomy is thus seen in the cases in which theory and
-observation confirm each other, so this influence appears in
-another way, in the very few cases in which the facts have
-not been fully reduced to an agreement with theory. The most
-conspicuous case of this kind is the state of our knowledge
-of the Tides. This is a portion of astronomy: for the
-Newtonian theory asserts these curious phenomena to be the
-result of the attraction of the sun and moon. Nor can there
-be any doubt that this is true, as a general statement; yet
-the subject is up to the present time a blot {165} on the
-perfection of the theory of universal gravitation; for we
-are very far from being able in this, as in the other parts
-of astronomy, to show that theory will exactly account for
-the time, and magnitude, and all other circumstances of the
-phenomenon at every place on the earth's surface. And what
-is the portion of our mathematics which is connected with
-this solitary signal defect in astronomy? It is the
-mathematics of the Motion of Fluids; a portion in which
-extremely little progress has been made, and in which all
-the more general problems of the subject have hitherto
-remained entirely insoluble. The attempts of the greatest
-mathematicians, Newton, Maclaurin, Bernoulli, Clairaut,
-Laplace, to master such questions, all involve some
-gratuitous assumption, which is introduced because the
-problem cannot otherwise be mathematically dealt with: these
-assumptions confessedly render the result defective, and how
-defective, it is hard to say. And it was probably precisely
-the absence of a theory which could be reasonably expected
-to agree with the observations, which made Observations of
-this very curious phenomenon, the Tides, to be so much
-neglected as till very recently they were. Of late years
-such observations have been pursued, and their results have
-been resolved into empirical laws, so that the rules of the
-phenomena have been ascertained, although the dependence of
-these rules upon the lunar and solar forces has not been
-shown. Here then we have a portion of our knowledge relating
-to facts undoubtedly dependent upon universal gravitation,
-in which Observation has outstripped Theory in her progress,
-and is compelled to wait till her usual companion overtakes
-her. This is a position of which Mathematical Theory has
-usually been very impatient, and we may expect that she will
-be no less so in the present instance.
-
-7. It would be easy to show from the history of other
-sciences, for example, Mechanics and Optics, how essential
-the cultivation of pure mathematics has been to their
-progress. The parabola was already familiar among
-mathematicians when Galileo discovered that it was the
-theoretical path of a Projectile; and the {166} extension
-and generalization of the Laws of Motion could never have
-been effected, unless the Differential and Integral Calculus
-had been at hand, ready to trace the results of every
-hypothesis which could be made. D'Alembert's mode of
-expressing the Third Law of Motion in its most general
-form[25\2], if it did not prove the law, at least reduced
-the application of it to analytical processes which could be
-performed in most of those cases in which they were needed.
-In many instances the demands of mechanical science
-suggested the extension of the methods of pure analysis. The
-problem of Vibrating Strings gave rise to the Calculus of
-Partial Differences, which was still further stimulated by
-its application to the motions of fluids and other
-mechanical problems. And we have in the writings of Lagrange
-and Laplace other instances equally remarkable of new
-analytical methods, to which mechanical problems, and
-especially cosmical problems, have given occasion.
-
-[Note 25\2: _Hist. Ind. Sc._ b. vi. c. vi. sect. 7.]
-
-8. The progress of Optics as a science has, in like manner,
-been throughout dependent upon the progress of pure
-mathematics. The first rise of Geometry was followed by some
-advances, slight ones no doubt, in the doctrine of
-Reflection and in Perspective. The law of Refraction was
-traced to its consequences by means of Trigonometry, which
-indeed was requisite to express the law in a simple form.
-The steps made in Optical science by Descartes, Newton,
-Euler, and Huyghens, required the geometrical skill which
-those philosophers possessed. And if Young and Fresnel had
-not been, each in his peculiar way, persons of eminent
-mathematical endowments, they would not have been able to
-bring the Theory of Undulations and Interferences into a
-condition in which it could be tested by experiments. We may
-see how unexpectedly recondite parts of pure mathematics may
-bear upon physical science, by calling to mind a
-circumstance already noticed in the History of
-Science[26\2];--that Fresnel obtained one of the {167} most
-curious confirmations of the theory (the laws of Circular
-Polarization by reflection) through an interpretation of an
-algebraical expression, which, according to the original
-conventional meaning of the symbols, involved an impossible
-quantity. We have already remarked, that in virtue of the
-principle of the generality of symbolical language, such an
-interpretation may often point out some real and important
-analogy.
-
-[Note 26\2: _Hist. Ind. Sc._ b. ix. c. xiii. sect. 2.]
-
-9. From this rapid sketch it may be seen how important an
-office in promoting the progress of the physical sciences
-belongs to mathematics. Indeed in the progress of many
-sciences, every step has been so intimately connected with
-some advance in mathematics, that we can hardly be surprised
-if some persons have considered mathematical reasoning to be
-the most essential part of such sciences; and have
-overlooked the other elements which enter into their
-formation. How erroneous this view is we shall best see by
-turning our attention to the other Ideas besides those of
-space, number, and motion, which enter into some of the most
-conspicuous and admired portions of what is termed exact
-science; and by showing that the clear and distinct
-development of such Ideas is quite as necessary to the
-progress of exact and real knowledge as an acquaintance with
-arithmetic and geometry.
-
-
-
-
-{{169}}
-BOOK III.
-
-
-THE
-PHILOSOPHY
-OF THE
-MECHANICAL SCIENCES.
-
-
-
-
-IT is only because we subject trains of phenomena, that is,
-all change whatever, to the law of causality--to the
-relation of cause and effect--that experience or empirical
-knowledge becomes possible.
-
-KANT, _Kr. d. R. V._ 11 Th. 1 Abth. 11 Buch. 2 Haupt.
-
-Quicquid premit vel trahit alterum, tantundem ab eo premitur
-vel trahitur ... Si corpus aliquod in corpus aliud impingens
-motum ejus vi suâ quomodocunque mutaverit, idem quoque
-vicissim in motu proprio eandem mutationem in partem
-contrariam vi alterius (ob æqualitatem pressionis, mutuæ)
-subibit ... Obtinet etiam hæc Lex in attractionibus.
-
-NEWTON, _Princip._ ad init.
-
-
-
-{{171}}
-BOOK III.
-
-
-THE PHILOSOPHY OF THE MECHANICAL SCIENCES.
-
-
-CHAPTER I.
-
-OF THE MECHANICAL SCIENCES.
-
-
-IN the History of the Sciences, that class of which we here
-speak occupies a conspicuous and important place; coming
-into notice immediately after those parts of Astronomy which
-require for their cultivation merely the ideas of space,
-time, motion, and number. It appears from our History, that
-certain truths concerning the _equilibrium_ of bodies were
-established by Archimedes;--that, after a long interval of
-inactivity, his principles were extended and pursued further
-in modern times:--and that to these doctrines concerning
-equilibrium and the forces which produce it, (which
-constitute the science _Statics_,) were added many other
-doctrines concerning the _motions_ of bodies, considered
-also as produced by forces, and thus the science of
-_Dynamics_ was produced. The assemblage of these sciences
-composes the province of _Mechanics_. Moreover, philosophers
-have laboured to make out the laws of the equilibrium of
-_fluid_ as well as solid bodies; and hence has arisen the
-science of _Hydrostatics_. And the doctrines of Mechanics
-have been found to have a most remarkable bearing upon the
-motions of the heavenly bodies; with reference to which,
-indeed, they were at first principally studied. The
-explanation of those cosmical facts by means of mechanical
-{172} principles and their consequences, forms the science
-of _Physical Astronomy_. These are the principal examples of
-mechanical science; although some other portions of Physics,
-as Magnetism and Electrodynamics, introduce mechanical
-doctrines very largely into their speculations.
-
-Now in all these sciences we have to consider _Forces_. In
-all mechanical reasonings forces enter, either as producing
-motion, or as prevented from doing so by other forces. Thus
-force, in its most general sense, is the _cause_ of motion,
-or of tendency to motion; and in order to discover the
-principles on which the mechanical sciences truly rest, we
-must examine the nature and origin of our knowledge of Causes.
-
-In these sciences, however, we have not to deal with Cause
-in its more general acceptation, in which it applies to all
-kinds of agency, material or immaterial;--to the influence
-of thought and will, as well as of bodily pressure and
-attractive force. Our business at present is only with such
-causes as immediately operate upon matter. We shall
-nevertheless, in the first place, consider the nature of
-Cause in its most general form; and afterwards narrow our
-speculations so as to direct them specially to the
-mechanical sciences.
-
-
-
-{{173}}
-CHAPTER II.
-
-OF THE IDEA OF CAUSE.
-
-
-1. WE see in the world around us a constant succession of
-causes and effects connected with each other. The laws of
-this connexion we learn in a great measure from experience,
-by observation of the occurrences which present themselves
-to our notice, succeeding one another. But in doing this,
-and in attending to this succession of appearances, of which
-we are aware by means of our senses, we supply from our own
-minds the Idea of Cause. This Idea, as we have already shown
-with respect to other Ideas, is not derived from experience,
-but has its origin in the mind itself;--is introduced into
-our experience by the active, and not by the passive part of
-our nature.
-
-By Cause we mean some quality, power, or efficacy, by which
-a state of things produces a succeeding state. Thus the
-motion of bodies from rest is produced by a cause which we
-call _Force_: and in the particular case in which bodies
-fall to the earth, this force is termed _Gravity_. In these
-cases, the Conceptions of Force and Gravity receive their
-meaning from the Idea of Cause which they involve: for Force
-is conceived as the Cause of Motion. That this Idea of Cause
-is not derived from experience, we prove (as in former
-cases) by this consideration: that we can make assertions,
-involving this idea, which are rigorously necessary and
-universal; whereas knowledge derived from experience can
-only be true as far as experience goes, and can never
-contain in itself any evidence whatever of its necessity. We
-assert that 'Every event must have a cause:' and this
-proposition we know to be true, not only probably, and
-generally, and as far as we can see: {174} but we cannot
-suppose it to be false in any single instance. We are as
-certain of it as of the truths of arithmetic or geometry. We
-cannot doubt that it must apply to all events past and
-future, in every part of the universe, just as truly as to
-those occurrences which we have ourselves observed. _What_
-causes produce what effects;--what is the cause of any
-particular event;--what will be the effect of any peculiar
-process;--these are points on which experience may enlighten
-us. Observation and experience may be requisite, to enable
-us to judge respecting such matters. But that every event
-has _some_ cause, Experience cannot prove any more than she
-can disprove. She can add nothing to the evidence of the
-truth, however often she may exemplify it. This doctrine,
-then, cannot have been acquired by her teaching; and the
-Idea of Cause, which the doctrine involves, and on which it
-depends, cannot have come into our minds from the region of
-observation.
-
-2. That we do, in fact, apply the Idea of Cause in a more
-extensive manner than could be justified, if it were derived
-from experience only, is easily shown. For from the
-principle that everything must have a cause, we not only
-reason concerning the succession of the events which occur
-in the progress of the world, and which form the course of
-experience; but we infer that the world itself must have a
-cause;--that the chain of events connected by common
-causation, must have a First Cause of a nature different
-from the events themselves. This we are entitled to do, if
-our Idea of Cause be independent of, and superior to,
-experience: but if we have no Idea of Cause except such as
-we gather from experience, this reasoning is altogether
-baseless and unmeaning.
-
-3. Again; by the use of our powers of observation, we are
-aware of a succession of appearances and events. But none of
-our senses or powers of external observation can detect in
-these appearances the power or quality which we call Cause.
-Cause is that which connects one event with another; but no
-sense or perception discloses to us, or can disclose, any
-connexion {175} among the events which we observe. We see
-that one occurrence follows another, but we can never see
-anything which shows that one occurrence _must_ follow
-another. We have already noticed[1\3], that this truth has
-been urged by metaphysicians in modern times, and generally
-assented to by those who examine carefully the connexion of
-their own thoughts. The arguments are, indeed, obvious
-enough. One ball strikes another and causes it to move
-forwards. But by what compulsion? Where is the necessity? If
-the mind can see any circumstance in this case which makes
-the result inevitable, let this circumstance be pointed out.
-But, in fact, there is no such discoverable necessity; for
-we can conceive this event not to take place at all. The
-struck ball may stand still, for aught we can see. 'But the
-laws of motion will not allow it to do so.' Doubtless they
-will not. But the laws of motion are learnt from experience,
-and therefore can prove no necessity. Why should not the
-laws of motion be other than they are? Are they necessarily
-true? That they are necessarily such as do actually regulate
-the impact of bodies, is at least no obvious truth; and
-therefore this necessity cannot be, in common minds, the
-ground of connecting the impact of one ball with the motion
-of another. And assuredly, if this fail, no other ground of
-such necessary connexion can be shown. In this case, then,
-the events are not seen to be necessarily connected. But if
-this case, where one ball moves another by impulse, be not
-an instance of events exhibiting a necessary connexion, we
-shall look in vain for any example of such a connexion.
-There is, then, no case in which events can be observed to
-be necessarily connected: our idea of causation, which
-implies that the event is necessarily connected with the
-cause, cannot be derived from observation.
-
-[Note 1\3: Book 3. chap. ii.]
-
-4. But it may be said, we have not any such Idea of Cause,
-implying necessary connexion with effect, and a quality by
-which this connexion is produced. {176} We see nothing but
-the succession of events; and by _cause_ we mean nothing but
-a certain succession of events;--namely, a constant,
-unvarying succession. Cause and effect are only two events
-of which the second invariably follows the first. We delude
-ourselves when we imagine that our idea of causation
-involves anything more.
-
-To this I reply by asking, what then is the meaning of the
-maxim above quoted, and allowed by all to be universally and
-necessarily true, that every event must have a cause? Let us
-put this maxim into the language of the explanation just
-noticed; and it becomes this:--'Every event must have a
-certain other event invariably preceding it.' But why must
-it? Where is the necessity? Why must like events always be
-preceded by like, except so far as other events interfere?
-That there is such a necessity, no one can doubt. All will
-allow that if a stone ascend because it is thrown upwards in
-one case, a stone which ascends in another case has also
-been thrown upwards, or has undergone some equivalent
-operation. All will allow that in this sense, every kind of
-event must have some other specific kind of event preceding
-it. But this turn of men's thoughts shows that they see in
-events a connexion which is not mere succession. They see in
-cause and effect, not merely what does, often or always,
-precede and follow, but what _must_ precede and follow. The
-events are not only conjoined, they are connected. The cause
-is more than the prelude, the effect is more than the
-sequel, of the fact. The cause is conceived not as a mere
-occasion; it is a power, an efficacy, which has a real
-operation.
-
-5. Thus we have drawn from the maxim, that Every Effect must
-have a Cause, arguments to show that we have an Idea of
-Cause which is not borrowed from experience, and which
-involves more than mere succession. Similar arguments might
-be derived from any other maxims of universal and necessary
-validity, which we can obtain concerning Cause: as, for
-example, the maxims that Causes are measured by their
-Effects, and that Reaction is equal and opposite to {177}
-Action. These maxims we shall soon have to examine; but we
-may observe here, that the necessary truth which belongs to
-them, shows that they, and the Ideas which they involve, are
-not the mere fruits of observation; while their meaning,
-including, as it does, something quite different from the
-mere conception of succession of events, proves that such a
-conception is far from containing the whole import and
-signification of our Idea of Cause.
-
-The progress of the opinions of philosophers on the points
-discussed in this chapter, has been one of the most
-remarkable parts of the history of Metaphysics in modern
-times: and I shall therefore briefly notice some of its
-features.
-
-
-
-{{178}}
-CHAPTER III.
-
-MODERN OPINIONS RESPECTING THE IDEA OF CAUSE.
-
-
-1. TOWARDS the end of the seventeenth century there existed
-in the minds of many of the most vigorous and active
-speculators of the European literary world, a strong
-tendency to ascribe the whole of our Knowledge to the
-teaching of Experience. This tendency, with its
-consequences, including among them the reaction which was
-produced when the tenet had been pushed to a length
-manifestly absurd, has exercised a very powerful influence
-upon the progress of metaphysical doctrines up to the
-present time. I proceed to notice some of the most prominent
-of the opinions which have thus obtained prevalence among
-philosophers, so far as the Idea of Cause is concerned.
-
-Locke was one of the metaphysicians who produced the
-greatest effect in diffusing this opinion, of the exclusive
-dependence of our knowledge upon experience. Agreeably to
-this general system, he taught[2\3] that our ideas of Cause
-and Effect are got from observation of the things about us.
-Yet notwithstanding this tenet of his, he endeavoured still
-to employ these ideas in reasoning on subjects which are far
-beyond all limits of experience: for he professed to prove,
-from our idea of Causation, the existence of the Deity[3\3].
-
-[Note 2\3: _Essay on the Human Understanding_, b. ii. c. xxvi.]
-
-[Note 3\3: B. iv. c. x.]
-
-Hume noticed this obvious inconsistency; but declared
-himself unable to discover any remedy for a defect so fatal
-to the most important parts of our knowledge. He could see,
-in our belief of the succession of cause and effect, nothing
-but the habit of associating in our minds what had often
-been {179} associated in our experience. He therefore
-maintained that we could not, with logical propriety, extend
-our belief of such a succession to cases entirely distinct
-from all those of which our experience consisted. We see, he
-said, an actual _conjunction_ of two events; but we can in
-no way detect a necessary _connexion_; and therefore we have
-no means of inferring cause from effect, or effect from
-cause[4\3]. The only way in which we recognize Cause and
-Effect in the field of our experience, is as an unfailing
-Sequence: we look in vain for anything which can assure us
-of an infallible Consequence. And since experience is the
-only source of our knowledge, we cannot with any justice
-assert that the world in which we live must necessarily have
-had a cause.
-
-[Note 4\3: Hume's _Phil. of the Human Mind_, vol. i. p.
-94.]
-
-2. This doctrine, taken in conjunction with the known
-skepticism of its author on religious points, produced a
-considerable fermentation in the speculative world. The
-solution of the difficulty thus thrown before philosophers,
-was by no means obvious. It was vain to endeavour to find in
-experience any other property of a Cause, than a constant
-sequence of the effect. Yet it was equally vain to try to
-persuade men that they had no idea of Cause; or even to
-shake their belief in the cogency of the familiar arguments
-concerning the necessity of an original cause of all that is
-and happens. Accordingly these hostile and apparently
-irreconcilable doctrines,--the indispensable necessity of a
-cause of every event, and the impossibility of our knowing
-such a necessity,--were at last allowed to encamp side by
-side. Reid, Beattie, and others, formed one party, who
-showed how widely and constantly the idea of a cause
-pervades all the processes of the human mind: while another
-sect, including Brown, and apparently Stewart, maintained
-that this idea is always capable of being resolved into a
-constant sequence; and these latter reasoners tried to
-obviate the dangerous and shocking inferences which some
-persons might try to draw from their opinion, by declaring
-the {180} maxim that "Every event must have a cause," to be
-an instinctive law of belief, or a fundamental principle of
-the human mind[5\3].
-
-[Note 5\3: Stewart's _Active Powers_, vol. i. p. 347.
-Browne's _Lectures_, vol. i. p. 115.]
-
-3. While this series of discussions was going on in Britain,
-a great metaphysical genius in Germany was unravelling the
-perplexity in another way. Kant's speculations originated,
-as he informs us, in the trains of thought to which Hume's
-writings gave rise; and the _Kritik der Reinen Vernunft_, or
-_Examination of the Pure Reason_, was published in 1787,
-with the view of showing the true nature of our knowledge.
-
-Kant's solution of the difficulties just mentioned differs
-materially from that above stated. According to Brown[6\3],
-succession observed and cause inferred,--the memory of past
-conjunctions of events and the belief of similar future
-conjunctions,--are facts, independent, so far as we can
-discover, but inseparably combined by a law of our mental
-nature. According to Kant, causality is an inseparable
-condition of our experience: a connexion in events is
-requisite to our apprehending them _as_ events. Future
-occurrences must be connected by causation as the past have
-been, because we cannot think of past, present, and future,
-without such connexion. We cannot fix the mind upon
-occurrences, without including these occurrences in a series
-of causes and effects. The relation of Causation is a
-condition under which we think of events, as the relations
-of space are a condition under which we see objects.
-
-[Note 6\3: _Lectures_, vol. i. p. 114.]
-
-4. On a subject so abstruse, it is not easy to make our
-distinctions very clear. Some of Brown's illustrations
-appear to approach very near to the doctrine of Kant. Thus
-he says[7\3], 'The _form_ of bodies is the relation of their
-elements to each other in space,--the _power_ of bodies is
-their relation to each other in time.' Yet notwithstanding
-such approximations in expression, the Kantian doctrine
-appears to be different from {181} the views of Stewart and
-Brown, as commonly understood. According to the Scotch
-philosophers, the cause and the effect are two things,
-connected in our minds by a law of our nature. But this view
-requires us to suppose that we can conceive the law to be
-absent, and the course of events to be unconnected. If we
-can understand what is the special force of this law, we
-must be able to imagine what the case would be if the law
-were non-existing. We must be able to conceive a mind which
-does not connect effects with causes. The Kantian doctrine,
-on the other hand, teaches that we cannot imagine events
-liberated from the connexion of cause and effect: this
-connexion is a condition of our conceiving any real
-occurrences: we cannot think of a real sequence of things,
-except as involving the operation of causes. In the Scotch
-system, the past and the future are in their nature
-independent, but bound together by a rule; in the German
-system, they share in a common nature and mutual relation,
-by the act of thought which makes them past and future. In
-the former doctrine cause is a tie which binds; in the
-latter it is a character which pervades and shapes events.
-The Scotch metaphysicians only assert the _universality_ of
-the relation; the German attempts further to explain its
-_necessity_.
-
-[Note 7\3: _Lectures_, vol. i. p. 127.]
-
-This being the state of the case, such illustrations as that
-of Dr. Brown quoted above, in which he represents _cause_ as
-a relation of the same kind with _form_, do not appear
-exactly to fit his opinions. Can the relations of figure be
-properly said to be connected with each other by a law of
-our nature, or a tendency of our mental constitution? Can we
-ascribe it to a law of our thoughts, that we believe the
-three angles of a triangle to be equal to two right angles?
-If so, we must give the same reason for our belief that two
-straight lines cannot inclose a space; or that three and two
-are five. But will any one refer us to an ultimate law of
-our constitution for the belief that three and two are five?
-Do we not see that they are so, as plainly as we see that
-they are three and two? Can we imagine laws of our
-constitution abolished, so that three and two shall {182}
-make something different from five;--so that an inclosed
-space shall lie between two straight lines;--so that the
-three angles of a plane triangle shall be greater than two
-right angles? We cannot conceive this. If the numbers _are_
-three and two; if the lines _are_ straight; if the triangle
-_is_ a rectilinear triangle, the consequences are
-inevitable. We cannot even imagine the contrary. We do not
-want a law to direct that things should be what they are.
-The relation, then, of cause and effect, being of the same
-kind as the necessary relations of figure and number, is not
-properly spoken of as established in our minds by a special
-law of our constitution: for we reject that loose and
-inappropriate phraseology which speaks of the relations of
-figure and number as 'determined by laws of belief.'
-
-5. In the present work, we accept and adopt, as the basis of
-our inquiry concerning our knowledge, the existence of
-necessary truths concerning causes, as there exist necessary
-truths concerning figure and number. We find such truths
-universally established and assented to among the
-cultivators of science, and among speculative men in
-general. All mechanicians agree that reaction is equal and
-opposite to action, both when one body presses another, and
-when one body communicates motion to another. All reasoners
-join in the assertion, not only that every observed change
-of motion has had a cause, but that every change of motion
-must have a cause. Here we have certain portions of
-substantial and undoubted knowledge. Now the essential point
-in the view which we must take of the idea of cause is
-this,--that our view must be such as to form a solid basis
-for our knowledge. We have, in the Mechanical Sciences,
-certain universal and necessary truths on the subject of
-causes. Now any view which refers our belief in causation to
-mere experience or habit, cannot explain the possibility of
-such necessary truths, since experience and habit can never
-lead to a perception of necessary connexion. But a view
-which teaches us to acknowledge axioms concerning cause, as
-we acknowledge axioms {183} concerning space, will lead us
-to look upon the science of mechanics as equally certain and
-universal with the science of geometry; and will thus
-materially affect our judgment concerning the nature and
-claims of our scientific knowledge.
-
-Axioms concerning Cause, or concerning Force, which as we
-shall see, is a modification of Cause, will flow from an
-Idea of Cause, just as axioms concerning space and number
-flow from the ideas of space and number or time. And thus
-the propositions which constitute the science of Mechanics
-prove that we possess an idea of cause, in the same sense in
-which the propositions of geometry and arithmetic prove our
-possession of the ideas of space and of time or number.
-
-6. The idea of cause, like the ideas of space and time, is a
-part of the _active_ powers of the mind. The relation of
-cause and effect is a relation or condition under which
-events are apprehended, which relation is not given by
-observation, but supplied by the mind itself. According to
-the views which explain our apprehension of cause by
-reference to habit, or to a supposed law of our mental
-nature, causal connexion is a consequence of agencies which
-the mind passively obeys; but according to the view to which
-we are led, this connexion is a result of faculties which
-the mind actively exercises. And thus the relation of cause
-and effect is a condition of our apprehending successive
-events, a part of the mind's constant and universal
-activity, a source of necessary truths; or, to sum all this
-in one phrase, a Fundamental Idea.
-
-
-
-{{184}}
-CHAPTER IV.
-
-OF THE AXIOMS WHICH RELATE TO THE IDEA OF CAUSE.
-
-
-1. _Causes are abstract Conceptions._--WE have now to
-express, as well as we can, the fundamental character of
-that Idea of Cause of which we have just proved the
-existence. This may be done, at least for purposes of
-reasoning, in this as in former instances, by means of
-axioms. I shall state the principal axioms which belong to
-this subject, referring the reader to his own thoughts for
-the axiomatic evidence which belongs to them.
-
-But I must first observe, that in order to express general
-and abstract truths concerning cause and effect, these
-terms, _cause_ and _effect_, must be understood in a general
-and abstract manner. When one event gives rise to another,
-the first _event_ is, in common language, often called the
-cause, and the second the effect. Thus the meeting of two
-billiard-balls may be said to be the cause of one of them
-turning aside out of the path in which it was moving. For
-our present purposes, however, we must not apply the term
-cause to such occurrences as this meeting and turning, but
-to a certain conception, _force_, abstracted from all such
-special events, and considered as a quality or property by
-which one body affects the motion of the other. And in like
-manner in other cases, cause is to be conceived as some
-abstract quality, power, or efficacy, by which change is
-produced; a quality not identical with the events, but
-disclosed by means of them. Not only is this abstract mode
-of conceiving force and cause useful in expressing the
-fundamental principles of science; but it supplies us with
-the only mode by which such principles can be {185} stated
-in a general manner, and made to lead to substantial truth
-and real knowledge.
-
-Understanding _cause_, therefore, in this sense, we proceed
-to our Axioms.
-
-2. First Axiom. _Nothing can take place without a Cause._
-
-Every event, of whatever kind, must have a cause in the
-sense of the term which we have just indicated; and that it
-must, is a universal and necessary proposition to which we
-irresistibly assent as soon as it is understood. We believe
-each appearance to come into existence,--we conceive every
-change to take place,--not only with something preceding it,
-but something by which it is made to be what it is. An
-effect without a cause;--an event without a preceding
-condition involving the efficacy by which the event is
-produced;--are suppositions which we cannot for a moment
-admit. That the connexion of effect with cause is universal
-and necessary, is a universal and constant conviction of
-mankind. It persists in the minds of all men, undisturbed by
-all the assaults of sophistry and skepticism; and, as we
-have seen in the last chapter, remains unshaken, even when
-its foundations seem to be ruined. This axiom expresses, to
-a certain extent, our Idea of Cause; and when that idea is
-clearly apprehended, the axiom requires no proof, and indeed
-admits of none which makes it more evident. That
-notwithstanding its simplicity, it is of use in our
-speculations, we shall hereafter see; but in the first
-place, we must consider the other axioms belonging to this
-subject.
-
-3. Second Axiom. _Effects are proportional to their Causes,
-and Causes are measured by their Effects._
-
-We have already said that _cause_ is that quality or power,
-in the circumstances of each case, by which the effect is
-produced; and this power, an abstract property of the
-condition of things to which it belongs, can in no way fall
-directly under the cognizance of the senses. Cause, of
-whatever kind, is not apprehended as including objects and
-events which share its nature by being co-extensive with
-certain portions of it, as space and time are. It cannot
-therefore, like them, be {186} measured by repetition of its
-own parts, as space is measured by repetition of inches, and
-time by repetition of minutes. Causes may be greater or
-less; as, for instance, the force of a man is greater than
-the force of a child. But how much is the one greater than
-the other? How are we to compare the abstract conception,
-force, in such cases as these?
-
-To this, the obvious and only answer is, that we must
-compare causes by means of their effects;--that we must
-compare force by something which force can do. The child can
-lift one fagot; the man can lift ten such fagots: we have
-here a means of comparison. And whether or not the rule is
-to be applied in this manner, that is, by the number of
-things operated on, (a question which we shall have to
-consider hereafter,) it is clear that this form of rule,
-namely, a reference to some effect or other as our measure,
-is the right, because the only possible form. The cause
-determines the effect. The cause being the same, the effect
-must be the same. The connexion of the two is governed by a
-fixed and inviolable rule. It admits of no ambiguity. Every
-degree of intensity in the cause has some peculiar
-modification of the effect corresponding to it. Hence the
-effect is an unfailing index of the amount of the cause; and
-if it be a measurable effect, gives a measure of the cause.
-We can have no other measure; but we need no other, for this
-is exact, sufficient and complete.
-
-It may be said, that various effects are produced by the
-same cause. The sun's heat melts wax and expands
-quicksilver. The force of gravity causes bodies to move
-downwards if they are free, and to press down upon their
-supports if they are supported. Which of the effects is to
-be taken as the measure of heat, or of gravity, in these
-cases? To this we reply, that if we had merely different
-states of the same cause to compare, any of the effects
-might be taken. The sun's heat on different days might be
-measured by the expansion of quicksilver, or by the quantity
-of wax melted. The force of gravity, if it were different at
-different places, might be measured by the spaces through
-which a given weight would bend an elastic {187} support, or
-by the spaces through which a body would fall in a given
-time. All these measures are consistent with the general
-character of our idea of cause.
-
-4. _Limitation of the Second Axiom._--But there may be
-circumstances in the nature of the case which may further
-determine the kind of effect which we must take for the
-measure of the cause. For example, if causes are conceived
-to be of such a nature as to be capable of addition, the
-effects taken as their measure must conform to this
-condition. This is the case with mechanical causes. The
-weights of two bodies are the causes of the pressure which
-they exert downwards; and these weights are capable of
-addition. The weight of the two is the sum of the weight of
-each. We are therefore not at liberty to say that weights
-shall be measured by the spaces through which they bend a
-certain elastic support, except we have first ascertained
-that the whole weight bends it through a space equal to the
-sum of the inflections produced by the separate weights.
-Without this precaution, we might obtain inconsistent
-results. Two weights, each of the magnitude 3 as measured by
-their effects, might, if we took the inflections of a spring
-for the effects, be together equal to 5 or to 7 by the same
-kind of measurement. For the inflection produced by two
-weights of 3 might, for aught we can see beforehand, be more
-or less than twice as great as the inflection produced by
-one weight of 3. That forces are capable of addition, is a
-condition which limits, and, as we shall see, in some cases
-rigorously fixes, the kind of effects which are to be taken
-as their measures.
-
-Causes which are thus capable of addition are to be measured
-by the repeated addition of equal quantities. Two such
-causes are _equal_ to each other when they produce exactly
-the same effect. So far our axiom is applied directly. But
-these two causes can be _added_ together; and being thus
-added, they are _double_ of one of them; and the cause
-composed by addition of _three_ such, is _three_ times as
-great as the first; and so on for any measure whatever. By
-this means, and by this {188} means only, we have a complete
-and consistent measure of those causes which are so
-conceived as to be subject to this condition of being added
-and multiplied.
-
-Causes are, in the present chapter, to be understood in the
-widest sense of the term; and the axiom now under our
-consideration applies to them, whenever they are of such a
-nature as to admit of any measure at all. But the cases
-which we have more particularly in view are _mechanical_
-causes, the causes of the motion and of the equilibrium of
-bodies. In these cases, forces are conceived as capable of
-addition; and what has been said of the measure of causes in
-such cases, applies peculiarly to mechanical forces. Two
-weights, placed together, may be considered as a single
-weight, equal to the _sum_ of the two. Two pressures,
-pushing a body in the same direction at the same point, are
-identical in all respects with some single pressure, their
-_sum_, pushing in like manner; and this is true whether or
-not they put the body in motion. In the cases of mechanical
-forces, therefore, we take some certain effect, velocity
-generated or weight supported, which may fix the _unit_ of
-force; and we then measure all other forces by the
-successive repetition of this unit, as we measure all spaces
-by the successive repetition of our unit of lineal measure.
-
-But these steps in the formation of the science of Mechanics
-will be further explained, when we come to follow our axioms
-concerning cause into their application in that science. At
-present we have, perhaps, sufficiently explained the axiom
-that causes are measured by their effects, and we now
-proceed to a third axiom, also of great importance.
-
-5. Third Axiom. _Reaction is equal and opposite to Action._
-
-In the case of mechanical forces, the action of a cause
-often takes place by an operation of one body upon another;
-and in this case, the action is always and inevitably
-accompanied by an _opposite_ action. If I press a stone with
-my hand, the stone presses my hand in return. If one ball
-strike another and put it in motion, the second ball
-diminishes the motion of {189} the first. In these cases the
-operation is mutual; the Action is accompanied by a
-Reaction. And in all such cases the Reaction is a force of
-exactly the same nature as the Action, exerted in an
-opposite direction. A pressure exerted upon a body at rest
-is resisted and balanced by another pressure; when the
-pressure of one body puts another in motion, the body,
-though it yields to the force, nevertheless exerts upon the
-pressing body a force like that which it suffers.
-
-Now the axiom asserts further, that this Reaction is
-_equal_, as well as opposite, to the Action. For the
-Reaction is an effect of the Action, and is determined by
-it. And since the two, Action and Reaction, are forces of
-the same nature, each may be considered as cause and as
-effect; and they must, therefore, determine each other by a
-common rule. But this consideration leads necessarily to
-their equality: for since the rule is mutual, if we could
-for an instant suppose the Reaction to be less than the
-Action, we must, by the same rule, suppose the Action to be
-less than the Reaction. And thus Action and Reaction, in
-every such case, are rigorously equal to each other.
-
-It is easily seen that this axiom is not a proposition which
-is, or can be, proved by experience; but that its truth is
-anterior to special observation, and depends on our
-conception of Action and Reaction. Like our other axioms,
-this has its source in an Idea; namely, the Idea of Cause,
-under that particular condition in which cause and effect
-are mutual. The necessary and universal truth which we
-cannot help ascribing to the axiom, shows that it is not
-derived from the stores of experience, which can never
-contain truths of this character. Accordingly, it was
-asserted with equal confidence and generality by those who
-did not refer to experience for their principles, and by
-those who did. Leonicus Tomæus, a commentator of Aristotle,
-whose work was published in 1552, and therefore at a period
-when no right opinions concerning mechanical reaction were
-current, at least in his school, says, in his remarks on the
-Author's Questions concerning the communication of motion,
-that 'Reaction is equal and {190} contrary to Action.' The
-same principle was taken for granted by all parties, in all
-the controversies concerning the proper measure of force, of
-which we shall have to speak: and would be rigorously true,
-as a law of motion, whichever of the rival interpretations
-of the measure of the term 'Action' we were to take.
-
-6. _Extent of the Third Axiom._--It may naturally be asked
-whether this third Axiom respecting causation extends to any
-other cases than those of mechanical action, since the
-notion of Cause in general has certainly a much wider
-extent. For instance, when a hot body heats a cold one, is
-there necessarily an equal reaction of the second body upon
-the first? Does the snowball cool the boy's hand exactly as
-much as the hand heats the snow? To this we reply, that, in
-every case in which one body acts upon another by its
-physical qualities, there must be some reaction. No body can
-affect another without being itself also affected. But in
-any physical change the _action_ exerted is an abstract term
-which may be variously understood. The hot hand may _melt_ a
-cool body, or may _warm_ it: which kind of effect is to be
-taken as action? This remains to be determined by other
-considerations.
-
-In all cases of physical change produced by one body in
-another, it is generally possible to assume such a meaning
-of action, that the reaction shall be of the same nature as
-the action; and when this is done, the third axiom of
-causation, that reaction is equal to action, is universally
-true. Thus if a hot body heat a cold one, the change may be
-conceived as the transfer of a certain substance, _heat_ or
-_caloric_, from the first body to the second. On this
-supposition, the first body _loses_ just as much heat as the
-other _gains_; action and reaction are equal. But if the
-reaction be of a different kind to the action we can no
-longer apply the axiom. If a hot body _melt_ a cold one, the
-latter _cools_ the former: here, then, is reaction; but so
-long as the action and reaction are stated in this form, we
-cannot assert any equality between them.
-
-In treating of the secondary mechanical sciences, we {191}
-shall see further in what way we may conceive the physical
-action of one body upon another, so that the same axioms
-which are the basis of the science of Mechanics shall apply
-to changes not at first sight manifestly mechanical.
-
-The three axioms of causation which we have now stated are
-the fundamental maxims of all reasoning concerning causes as
-to their quantities; and it will be shown in the sequel that
-these axioms form the basis of the science of Mechanics,
-determining its form, extent, and certainty. We must,
-however, in the first place, consider how we acquire those
-conceptions upon which the axioms now established are to be
-employed.
-
-[2d Ed.] [The Axiom that _Reaction is equal and opposite to
-Action_, may appear to be at variance with a maxim
-concerning Cause which is commonly current; namely, that the
-'Cause precedes Effect, and Effect follows Cause.' For it
-may be said, if _A_, the Action, and _R_, the Reaction, can
-be considered as mutually the cause of each other, _A_ must
-precede _R_, and yet must follow it, which is impossible.
-But to this I reply, that in those cases of direct Causation
-to which the maxim applies, the Cause and Effect are not
-successive, but simultaneous. If I press against some
-obstacle, the obstacle resists and returns the pressure at
-the instant it is exerted, not after any interval of time,
-however small. The common maxim, that the effect follows the
-cause, has arisen from the practice of considering, as
-examples of cause and effect, not instantaneous forces or
-causes, and the instantaneous changes which they produce;
-but taking, instead of this latter, the _cumulative_ effects
-produced in the course of time, and compared with like
-results occurring without the action of the cause. Thus, if
-we alter the length of a clock-pendulum, this change
-produces, as its effect, a subsequent change of rate in the
-clock: because the rate is measured by the accumulated
-effects of the pendulum's gravity, before and after the
-change. But the pendulum produces its mechanical effect upon
-the escapement, at the moment of its contact, and each wheel
-upon the next, at the moment of _its_ contact. As has {192}
-been said in a Review of this work, 'The time lost in cases
-of indirect physical causation is consumed in the movements
-which take place among the parts of the mechanism in action,
-by which the active forces so transformed into momentum are
-transported over intervals of space to new points of action,
-the motion of matter in such cases being regarded as a mere
-carrier of force.' (_Quarterly Rev._ No. cxxxv. p. 212.)
-
-This subject I have further treated in the _Memoirs of the
-Cambridge Philosophical Society_, vol. vii. part iii.] [In
-this Third Edition I add this discussion.]
-
-_Discussion of the Question:--Are Cause and Effect
-successive or simultaneous?_
-
-I HAVE at various times laid before this Society
-dissertations on the metaphysical grounds and elements of
-our knowledge, and especially on the foundations of the
-science of mechanics. As these speculations have not failed
-to excite some attention, both here and elsewhere, I am
-tempted to bring forward in the same manner some additional
-disquisitions of the same kind. Indeed, the immediate
-occasion of the present memoir is of itself an evidence that
-such subjects are not supposed to be without their interest
-for the general reader; for I am led to the views and
-reasonings which I am now about to lay before the Society,
-by some remarks in one of our most popular Reviews, (_The
-Quarterly Review_, Article on the _History_ and _Philosophy
-of the Inductive Sciences_, June 1841). A writer of singular
-acuteness and comprehensiveness of view has there made
-remarks upon the doctrines which I had delivered in the
-_Philosophy of the Inductive Sciences_, which remarks appear
-to me in the highest degree instructive and philosophical. I
-am not, however, going here to discuss fully the doctrines
-contained in this critique. With respect to its general
-tendency, I will only observe, that the author does not
-accept, in the form in which I had given it, the account of
-the origin and ground of necessary and universal truths. I
-had stated that our knowledge is derived from Sensations and
-Ideas; and that Ideas, which are the conditions of
-perception, such as _space_, _time_, _likeness_, _cause_,
-make universal and necessary knowledge possible; whereas, if
-knowledge were derived from Sensation alone, it could not
-have those characters. I have moreover {193} enumerated a
-long series of Fundamental Ideas as the bases of a
-corresponding series of sciences, of which sciences I have
-shown also, by an historical survey, that they claim to
-possess universal truths, and have their claims allowed. I
-have gone further: for I have stated the Axioms which flow
-from these Fundamental Ideas, and which are the logical
-grounds of necessity and universality in the truths of each
-science, when the science is presented in the form of a
-demonstrated system. The Reviewer does not assent to this
-doctrine, nor to the argument by which it is supported;
-namely, that Experience cannot lead to universal truths,
-except by means of a universal Idea supplied by the mind,
-and infused into the particular facts which observation
-ministers. He considers that the existence of universal
-truths in our knowledge may be explained otherwise. He holds
-that it is a sufficient account of the matter to say that we
-pass from special experience to universal truth in virtue of
-'the inductive propensity--the irresistible impulse of the
-mind to generalize _ad infinitum_.' I shall not here dwell
-upon very strong reasons which may be assigned, as I
-conceive, for not accepting this as a full and satisfactory
-explanation of the difficulty. Instead of doing so, I shall
-here content myself with remarking, that even if we adopt
-the Reviewer's expressions, we must still contend that there
-are _different forms_ of the _impulse of the mind to
-generalize_, corresponding to each of the Fundamental Ideas
-of our system. These Fundamental Ideas, if they be nothing
-else, must at least be accepted as a classification of the
-modes of action of the Inductive Propensity,--as so many
-different paths and tendencies of the Generalizing Impulse:
-and the Axioms which I have stated as the express results of
-the Fundamental Ideas, and as the steps by which those Ideas
-make universal truths possible, are still no less worthy of
-notice, if they are stated as the results of our
-Generalizing Impulse; and as the steps by which that
-Impulse, in its many various forms, makes universal truths
-possible. The Generalizing Impulse in that operation by
-which it leads us to the Axioms of Geometry, and to those of
-Mechanics, takes very different courses; and these courses
-may well deserve to be separately studied. And perhaps, even
-if we accept this view of the philosophy of our knowledge,
-no simpler or clearer way can be found of describing and
-distinguishing these fundamentally different operations of
-the Inductive Propensity, than by saying, {194} that in the
-one case it proceeds according to the Idea of Space, in
-another according to the Idea of Mechanical Cause; and the
-like phraseology may be employed for all the other cases.
-
-This then being understood, my present object is to consider
-some very remarkable, and, as appears to me, novel views of
-the Idea of Cause which the Reviewer propounds. And these
-may be best brought under our discussion by considering them
-as an attempt to solve the question, Whether, according to
-our fundamental apprehensions of the relation of Cause and
-Effect, effect follows cause in the order of time, or is
-simultaneous with it.
-
-At first sight, this question may seem to be completely
-decided by our fundamental convictions respecting cause and
-effect, and by the axioms which have been propounded by
-almost all writers, and have obtained universal currency
-among reasoners on this subject. That the cause must precede
-the effect,--that the effect must follow the cause,--are, it
-might seem, self-evident truths, assumed and assented to by
-all persons in all reasonings in which those notions occur.
-Such a doctrine is commonly asserted in general terms, and
-seems to be verified in all the applications of the idea of
-cause. A heavy body produces motion by its weight; the
-motion produced is subsequent in time to the pressure which
-the weight exerts. In a machine, bodies push or strike each
-other, and so produce a series of motions; each motion, in
-this case, is the result of the motions and configurations
-which have preceded it. The whole series of such motions
-employs time; and this time is filled up and measured by the
-series of causes and effects, the effects being, in their
-turn, causes of other effects. This is the common mode of
-apprehending the universal course of events, in which the
-chain of causation, and the progress of time, are
-contemplated as each the necessary condition and
-accompaniment of the other.
-
-But this, the Critic remarks, is not true in _direct_
-causation. 'If the antecedence and consequence in question
-be understood as the interposition of an interval of time,
-however small, between the action of the cause and the
-production of the effect, we regard it as inadmissible. In
-the production of motion by force, for instance, though the
-effect be cumulative with continued exertion of the cause,
-yet each elementary or individual action is, to our
-apprehension, _instanter_ accompanied with its corresponding
-increment of momentum in the body moved. In all dynamical
-{195} reasonings no one has ever thought of interposing an
-instant of time between the action and its resulting
-momentum; nor does it appear necessary.' This is so evident,
-that it appears strange it should have the air of novelty;
-yet, so far as I am aware, the matter has never before been
-put in the same point of view. But this being the case, the
-question occurs, how it is that time _seems_ to be employed
-in the progress from cause to effect? How is it that the
-opinion of the effect being subsequent to the cause has
-generally obtained? And to this the Critic's answer is
-obvious:--it is so in cases of indirect or of _cumulative_
-effect. If a ball _A_ strikes another, _B_, and puts it in
-motion, and _B_ strikes _C_, and puts it in motion, _A_'s
-impact may be considered as the cause, though not the direct
-cause, of _C_'s motion. Now time, namely the time of _B_'s
-motion after it is struck by _A_, and before it strikes _C_,
-intervenes between _A_'s impact and the beginning of _C_'s
-motion: that is, between the cause and its effect. In this
-sense, the effect is subsequent to the cause. Again, if a
-body be put in motion by a series of impulses acting at
-finite intervals of time, all in the same direction, the
-motion at the end of all these intervals is the effect of
-all the impulses, and exists after they have all acted. It
-is the accumulated effect, and subsequent to each separate
-action of the cause. But in this case, each impulse produces
-its effect instantaneously, and the time is employed, not in
-the transition from any cause to its effect, but in the
-intervals between the action of the several causes, during
-which intervals the body goes on with the velocity already
-communicated to it. In each impulse, force produces motion:
-and the motion goes on till a new change takes place, by the
-same kind of action. The force may be said, in the language
-employed by the Critic, to be transformed into momentum; and
-in the successive impulses, successive portions of force are
-thus transformed; while in the intervening intervals, the
-force thus transformed into momentum is carried by the body
-from one place to another, where a new change awaits it.
-'The cause is absorbed and transformed into effect, and
-therein treasured up.' Hence, as the Writer says, 'The time
-lost in cases of indirect physical causation is that
-consumed in the movements which take place among the parts
-of the mechanism set in action, by which the active forces
-so transformed into mechanism are transported over intervals
-of space to new points of action, the motion of matter in
-such cases being {196} regarded as a mere carrier of
-force':--and when force is directly counteracted by force,
-their mutual destruction must be conceived, as the Reviewer
-says, to be instantaneous. We can therefore hardly resist
-his conclusion, that men have been misled in assuming
-sequence as a feature in the relation of cause and effect;
-and we may readily assent to his suggestion, that sequence,
-when observed, is to be held as a sure indication of
-indirect action, accompanied with a movement of parts.
-
-But yet if we turn for a moment to other kinds of causation,
-we seem to be compelled at every step to recognize the truth
-of the usual maxim upon this subject, that effects are
-subsequent to causes. Is not poison, taken at a certain
-moment, the cause of disorder and death which follow at a
-_subsequent_ period? Is not a man's early prudence often the
-cause of his prosperity in _later_ life, and his folly,
-though for a moment it may produce gratification, _finally_
-the cause of his ruin? And even in the case of mechanism,
-if, in a clock which goes rightly, we alter the length of
-the pendulum, is not this alteration the cause of an
-alteration which _afterwards_ takes place in the rate of the
-clock's going? Are not all these, and innumerable other
-cases, instances in which the usual notion of the effect
-following the cause is verified? and are they not
-irreconcileable with the new doctrine of cause and effect
-being simultaneous?
-
-In order to disentangle this apparent confusion, let us
-first consider the case last mentioned, of a clock, in which
-some alteration is made which affects the rate of going.
-
-So long as the parts of the clock remain unaltered, its rate
-will remain unaltered; and any part which is considered as
-capable of alteration, may be considered as, if we please,
-the cause of the unaltered rate, by being itself unaltered.
-But we do not usually introduce the positive idea of cause,
-to correspond with this negation of change. If we speak of
-the rate as unaltered, we may also say that it is so because
-there is _no cause_ of alteration. The steady rate is the
-indication of the absence of any cause of alteration; and
-the rate of going measures the progress of time, in a state
-of things in which causes of change are thus excluded. If an
-alteration takes place in any part of the clock, once for
-all, the rate is altered; but the new rate is steady as the
-old rate was, and, like it, measures the uniform progress of
-time. But the difference between the new rate and the old is
-occasioned by {197} the difference of the parts of the
-clock; and the new rate may very properly be said to be
-caused by the change of the parts, and to be subsequent to
-it: for it does prevail after the change, and does not
-prevail before.
-
-But how is this view to be reconciled with the one just
-quoted from the Reviewer, and, as it appeared,
-satisfactorily proved by him; according to which all
-mechanical effects are simultaneous with their causes, and
-not subsequent to them? We have here the two views in close
-contact, and in seeming opposition.
-
-In the going of a clock, the parts are in motion; and these
-motions are determined by forces arising from the form and
-connexion of the parts of the mechanism. Each of the forces
-thus exerted at any instant produces its effect at the same
-instant; and thus, so far as the term _cause_ refers to such
-instantaneous forces, the cause and the effect are
-simultaneous. But if such instantaneous forces act at
-successive intervals of time, the motion during each
-interval is unaltered, and by its uniform progress measures
-the progress of time. And thus the motion of the machine
-consists of a series of intervals, during each of which the
-motion is uniform, and measures the time; separated from
-each other by a series of changes, at each of which the
-change measures the instantaneous force, and is simultaneous
-with it. And if, in this case, we suppose, at any point of
-time, the instantaneous forces to cease, the succession of
-them being terminated, from that point of time the motion
-would be uniform. And since the rate of the motion in each
-interval of time is determined by the instantaneous force
-which last acted and by the preceding motion, the rate of
-the motion in each interval of time is determined by all the
-preceding instantaneous forces. Hence, when the series of
-instantaneous forces stops, the rate at which the motion
-goes on permanently, from that point of time, is determined
-by the antecedent series of such forces, which series may be
-considered as an aggregate cause; and hence it appears, that
-the _permanent_ effect is determined by the _aggregate_
-cause; and in this sense the effect is subsequent to the
-cause.
-
-Thus we obtain, in this case, a solution of the difficulty
-which is placed before us. The instantaneous effect or
-change is simultaneous with the instantaneous force or cause
-by which it is {198} produced. But if we consider a series
-of such instantaneous forces as a single aggregate cause,
-and the final condition as a permanent effect of this cause,
-the effect is subsequent to the cause. In this case, the
-cause is immediately succeeded by the effect. The cause acts
-in time: the effect goes on in time. The times occupied by
-the cause and by the effect succeed each other, the one
-ending at the point of time at which the other begins. But
-the time which the cause occupies is really composed of a
-series of instants of uniform motion interposed between
-instantaneous forces; and during the time that this series
-of causes is going on, to make up the aggregate cause, a
-series of effects is going on to make up the final effect.
-There is a progressive cause and a progressive effect which
-go on together, and occupy the same finite time; and this
-simultaneous progression is composed of all the simultaneous
-instantaneous steps of cause and effect. The aggregate cause
-is the sum of the progression of causes; the final effect is
-the last term of the progression of effects. At each step,
-as the Reviewer says, cause is transformed into effect; and
-it is treasured up in the results during the intermediate
-intervals; and the time occupied is not the time which
-intervenes between cause and effect at each step, but the
-time which intervenes between these transformations.
-
-I have supposed forces to act at distinct instants, and to
-cease to act in the intervals between; and then, the
-aggregate of such intervals to make up a finite time, during
-which an aggregate force acts. But if the action of the
-force be rigorously continuous, it will easily be seen that
-all the consequences as to cause and effect will be the
-same; the discontinuous action being merely the usual
-artifice by which, in mathematical reasonings, we obtain
-results respecting continuous changes. It will still be
-true, that the uniform motion which takes place after a
-continuous force has acted, is the effect subsequent to the
-cause; while the change which takes place at any instant by
-the action of the force, is the instantaneous effect
-simultaneous with the cause.
-
-It may be objected, that this solution does not appear
-immediately to apply: for the motion of a clock is not
-uniform during any portion of the time. The parts move by
-intervals of varied motion and of rest; or by oscillations
-backwards and forwards; and the succession of forces which
-acts during any {199} oscillation, or any cycle of motion,
-is repeated during the succeeding oscillation or cycle, and
-so on indefinitely; and if an alteration be made in the
-parts, it is not a change once for all, but recurs in its
-operation in every cycle of the motion.
-
-But it will be found that this circumstance does not prevent
-the same explanation from being still applicable with a
-slight modification. Instead of uniform motion in the
-intervals of causation, we shall have to speak of _steady
-going_: and instead of considering all the forces which
-affect the motion as causes of change of uniform motion, we
-shall have to speak of changes in the parts of the mechanism
-as causes of _change of rate of going_. With this
-modification, it will still be true, that any instantaneous
-cause produces its instantaneous effect simultaneously,
-while the permanent effect is subsequent to the change which
-is its cause. The steady going of the clock is assumed as a
-normal condition, in which it measures the progress of time;
-and in this assumption, the notion of cause and effect is
-not brought into view. But a steady rate thus denoting the
-mean passage of time, a change in the rate indicates a cause
-of change. The _change of rate_, as an instantaneous
-_transition_ from one rate to another, is _simultaneous_
-with the change in the parts. But then the _changed rate_ as
-a continued _condition_ in which, no new change supervening,
-the rate again measures the progress of time, is
-_subsequent_ to the change of parts, for it begins when that
-ends, and continues when the progress of that has ceased.
-
-If, however, this be a satisfactory solution of the
-difficulty in the case of mechanism, how shall we apply the
-same views to the other cases? Growth, the effect of food,
-is subsequent to the act of taking food; disorder, the
-effect of poison, is subsequent to the introduction of
-poison into the system. Can we say that the animal would
-continue unchanged if it were not to take food; and that
-food is the cause of a change, namely, of growth? This is
-manifestly false; for if the animal were not to take food,
-it would soon perish. But the analogy of the former case, of
-the clock, will enable us to avoid this perplexity. As we
-assumed a steady rate of going in the clock to be the
-measure of time when we considered the effect of mechanism,
-so we assume a steady rate of action in the animal functions
-to be the measure of the progress of time when we consider
-the causes which act upon the {200} development and health
-of animals. Digestion, and of course nutrition, are a part
-of this normal condition; they are involved in the steady
-going of the animal mechanism, and we must suppose these
-functions to go regularly on, in order that the animal may
-preserve its character of animal. Food and digestion may be
-considered as causes of the continued existence of the
-animal, in the same way in which the form of the parts of a
-clock is the cause of the steady going of a clock. And when
-we come to consider causes of change, this kind of
-causation, which produces a normal condition of things,
-merely measuring the flow of time, is left out of our
-account. We can conceive an uniform condition of animal
-existence, the animal neither growing nor wasting. This
-being taken as the normal condition, any deviation from this
-condition indicates a cause, and is taken as the evidence
-and measure of the cause of change. And thus, in a growing
-animal, the food partly keeps the animal in continued animal
-existence, and partly, and in addition to this, causes its
-growth. Food, in the former view, is always circulating in
-the system, and is supposed to be uniformly administered;
-the cycles of nutrition being merged in the notion of
-uniform existence, as the oscillations of the pendulum in a
-clock are merged in the notion of uniform going; and the
-elementary steps of nutrition which are, in this view,
-supposed to take place at each instant, produce their
-instantaneous effect, for they are requisite in the cycle of
-animal processes which goes on from instant to instant. But
-on the other hand, in considering growth, we compare the
-state of an animal with a preceding state, and consider the
-nutriment taken in the intervening time as the cause of the
-change: hence this nutriment, as an aggregate, is considered
-as the cause of growth of the animal; and in this view the
-effect is subsequent to the cause. But yet here, as in the
-case of mechanism, the progressive effect is simultaneous,
-step by step, with the progressive cause. There is a series
-of operations; as for instance, intussusception, digestion,
-assimilation, growth: each of these is a progressive
-operation; and in the progress of each operation, the steps
-of the effect and the instantaneous forces are simultaneous.
-But the end of one operation is the beginning of the next,
-or at least in part, and hence we have time occupied by the
-succession. The end of intussusception is the beginning of
-digestion, the end of digestion the beginning of
-assimilation, {201} and so on. These aggregate effects
-succeed each other; and hence growth is subsequent to the
-taking of food; though each instantaneous force of animal
-life, no less than of mechanism, produces an effect
-simultaneous with its action. Each of these separate
-operations is an aggregate operation, and occupies time; and
-each aggregate effect is a condition of the action of the
-cause in the next operation.
-
-Again; if an animal in a permanent condition, neither waxing
-nor wasting, may be taken as the normal state in which the
-functions of life measure time, in order that we may
-consider growth as an effect, to be referred to food as
-cause; we may, for other purposes, consider, as the normal
-condition, an animal waxing and then wasting, according to
-the usual law of animal life: and we must take this, the
-healthy progress of an animal, as our normal condition, if
-we have to consider causes which produce disease. If we have
-to refer the morbid condition of an animal to the influence
-of poison, for example, we must consider how far the
-condition deviates from what it would have been if the
-poison had not been taken into the frame. The usual progress
-of the animal functions including its growth, is the measure
-of time; the deviation from this usual progress is the
-indication of cause; and the effect of the poison is
-subsequent to the cause, because the poison acts through the
-cycle of the animal functions just mentioned, which occupies
-time; and because the taking the poison into the system, not
-any subsequent action of the animal forces in the system, is
-considered as the event which we must contemplate as a
-cause. To resume the analogy of the clock: the rate of the
-clock is altered by altering the parts; but this alteration
-itself may occupy time; as if we alter the rate of a clock
-by applying a drop of acid, which gradually eats off a part
-of the pendulum, the corrosion, as an aggregate effect,
-occupies time; and the rates before and after the change are
-separated by this time. But the application of the drop is
-the cause; and thus, in this case the final effect is
-subsequent to the cause, though here, as in the case of
-mechanism, the instantaneous forces always produce a
-simultaneous effect.
-
-Thus we have in every case a _uniform_ state, or a state
-which is considered as uniform, or at least _normal_; and
-which is taken as the indication and measure of _time_; and
-we have also _change_, {202} which is contemplated as a
-deviation from uniformity, and is taken as the indication
-and measure of _cause_. The uniform state may be one which
-never exists, being purely imaginary; as the case in which
-no forces act; and the case in which animal functions go on
-permanently, the animal neither growing nor wasting. The
-normal state may also be a state in which change is
-constantly taking place, as, in fact, even a state of motion
-is a state of change; such states also are, in a further
-sense, that of a clock going by starts, and that of an
-animal constantly growing: in these cases the changes are
-all merged in a wider view of uniformity, so that these are
-taken as the normal states. And in all these cases,
-successive changes which take place are separated by
-intervals of time, measured by the normal progress; and each
-change is produced by some _simultaneous_ instantaneous
-cause. But taking the cause in a larger sense, we group
-these instantaneous causes, and perhaps omit in our
-contemplation some of the intervening intervals; and thus
-assign the cause to a _preceding_, and the effect to a
-_succeeding_ time.
-
-I may observe further, as a corollary from what has been
-said, that the measure of time is different, when we
-consider different kinds of causation; and in each case, is
-_homogeneous_ with the changes which causation effects. In
-the consideration of mechanical causes, we measure time by
-mechanical changes;--by uniform motion, or uniform
-succession of cycles of motion; by the rotation of a wheel,
-or the oscillation of a pendulum. But if we have to consider
-physiological changes, the progress of time is
-physiologically measured;--by the normal progress of vital
-operations; by the circulation, digestion or development of
-the organized body; by the pulse, or by the growth. These
-different measures of time give to time, so far as it is
-exhibited by facts and events, a different character in the
-different cases. Phenomenal time has a different nature and
-essence according to the kind of the changes which we
-consider, and which gives us our sole phenomenal indication
-of cause.
-
-I fear that I am travelling into matters too abstruse and
-metaphysical for the occasion: but before I conclude, I will
-present one other aspect of the subject.
-
-In stating the difficulty, I referred to cases of moral as
-well as physical causation; as when prudence produces
-prosperity, or {203} when folly produces ruin. It may be
-asked, whether we are here to apply the same
-explanation;--whether we are to assume a normal condition of
-human existence, in which neither prudence nor folly are
-displayed, neither prosperity nor adversity
-produced;--whether we are to conceive the progress of such a
-state to measure the progress of time, and deviations from
-it to denote causes of the kind mentioned. It may be asked
-further, whether, if we do make this supposition, we can
-resolve the influence of such causes as prudence or
-imprudence into instantaneous acts, which produce their
-effects immediately: and which occupy time only by being
-separated by intervals of the inactive normal moral
-condition. To this I must here reply, that the discussion of
-such questions would carry me too far, and would involve
-speculations not included within the acknowledged domain of
-this Society, from which I therefore abstain. But I may say,
-before quitting the subject, that I do not think the
-suppositions above suggested are untenable; and that in
-order to include moral causation under the maxims of
-causation in general, we must necessarily make some such
-hypothesis. The peculiarity of that kind of causation which
-the will and the character exert, and which is exerted upon
-the will and the character, would make this case far more
-complex and difficult than those already considered; but, at
-the same time, would offer us the means of explaining what
-may seem harsh, in the above analogy. For instance, we
-should have to assume such a maxim as this: that in moral
-causation, time is not to be measured by the flow of
-mechanical or physiological events;--not by the clock, or by
-the pulse. Moral causation has its own clock, its own pulse,
-in the progress of man's moral being; and by this measure of
-time is the relation of moral cause and effect to be
-defined.
-
-That in estimating moral causation, the progress of time is
-necessarily estimated by moral changes, and not by
-machinery,--by the progress of events, and not by the going
-of the clock,--is a truth familiar as a practical maxim to
-all who give their thoughts to dramatic or narrative
-fictions. Who feels any thing incongruous or extravagantly
-hurried in the progress of events in that great exhibition
-of moral causation, the tragedy of Othello? If we were asked
-what time those vast and terrible {204} and complex changes
-of the being and feelings of the characters occupy, we
-should say, that, measured on its own scale, the event is of
-great extent;--that the transaction is of considerable
-magnitude in all ways. But if, with previous critics, we
-look into the progress of time by the day and the hour--what
-is the measure of this history? Forty-eight hours.
-
-
-
-{{205}}
-CHAPTER V.
-
-OF THE ORIGIN OF OUR CONCEPTIONS OF FORCE AND MATTER.
-
-
-1. _Force._--WHEN the faculties of observation and thought
-are developed in man, the idea of causation is applied to
-those changes which we see and feel in the state of rest and
-motion of bodies around us. And when our abstract
-conceptions are thus formed and named, we adopt the term
-_Force_, and use it to denote that property which is the
-cause of motion produced, changed, or prevented. This
-conception is, it would seem, mainly and primarily suggested
-by our consciousness of the exertions by which we put bodies
-in motion. The Latin and Greek words for _Force_, Vis, Ϝὶς,
-were probably, like all abstract terms, derived at first
-from some sensible object. The original meaning of the Greek
-word was a _muscle_ or _tendon_. Its first application as an
-abstract term is accordingly to muscular force:
-
- Δεύτερος αὖτ' Αἴας πολὺ μείζονα λᾶαν ἀείρας
- ἦκ' ἐπιδινήσας, ἐπέρεισε δὲ ϜÎ͂Ν' ἀπέλεθρον.
-
- Then Ajax a far heavier stone upheaved,
- He whirled it, and impressing Force intense
- Upon the mass, dismist it.
-
-The property by which bodies affect each other's motions,
-was naturally likened to that energy which we exert upon
-them with similar effect: and thus the labouring horse, the
-rushing torrent, the descending weight, the elastic bow,
-were said to exert force. {206} Homer[8\3] speaks of the
-_force_ of the river, Ϝὶς ποταμοῖο; and Hesiod[9\3] of the
-_force_ of the north wind, Ϝὶς ἀνέμου βορέαο.
-
-[Note 8\3: _Il._ xxi.]
-
-[Note 9\3: _Op. et D._]
-
-Thus man's general notion of force was probably first
-suggested by his muscular exertions, that is, by an act
-depending upon that muscular sense, to which, as we have
-already seen, the perception of space is mainly due. And
-this being the case, it will be easily understood that the
-_Direction_ of the force thus exerted is perceived by the
-muscular sense, at the same time that the force itself is
-perceived; and that the direction of any other force is
-understood by comparison with force which man must exert to
-produce the same effect, in the same manner as force itself
-is so understood.
-
-This abstract notion of Force long remained in a very vague
-and obscure condition, as may be seen by referring to the
-History for the failures of attempts at a science of force
-and motion, made by the ancients and their commentators in
-the middle ages. By degrees, in modern times, we see the
-scientific faculty revive. The conception of Force becomes
-so far distinct and precise that it can be reasoned upon in
-a consistent manner, with demonstrated consequences; and a
-genuine science of Mechanics comes into existence. The
-foundations of this science are to be found in the Axioms
-concerning causation which we have already stated; these
-axioms being interpreted and fixed in their application by a
-constant reference to observed facts, as we shall show. But
-we must, in the first place, consider further those primary
-processes of observation by which we acquire the first
-materials of thought on such subjects.
-
-2. _Matter._--The conception of Force, as we have said,
-arises with our consciousness of our own muscular exertions.
-But we cannot imagine such exertions without also imagining
-some bodily substance against which they are exercised. If
-we press, we press something: if we thrust or throw, there
-must be something {207} to resist the thrust or to receive
-the impulse. Without body, muscular force cannot be exerted,
-and force in general is not conceivable.
-
-Thus Force cannot exist without _Body_ on which it acts. The
-two conceptions, Force and Matter, are co-existent and
-correlative. Force implies resistance; and the force is
-effective only when the resistance is called into play. If
-we grasp a stone, we have no hold of it till the closing of
-the hand is resisted by the solid texture of the stone. If
-we push open a gate, we must surmount the opposition which
-it exerts while turning on its hinges. However slight the
-resistance be, there must be some resistance, or there would
-be no force. If we imagine a state of things in which
-objects do not resist our touch, they must also cease to be
-influenced by our strength. Such a state of things we
-sometimes imagine in our dreams; and such are the poetical
-pictures of the regions inhabited by disembodied spirits. In
-these, the figures which appear are conspicuous to the eye,
-but impalpable like shadow or smoke; and as they do not
-resist the corporeal impressions, so neither do they obey
-them. The spectator tries in vain to strike or to grasp
-them.
-
- Et ni docta comes tenues sine corpore vitas
- Admoneat volitare cavâ sub imagine formæ,
- Irruat ac frustra ferro diverberet umbras.
-
- The Sibyl warns him that there round him fly
- Bodiless things, but substance to the eye;
- Else had he pierced those shapes with life-like face,
- And smitten, fierce, the unresisting space.
-
- Neque illum
- Prensantem nequicquam umbras et multa volentem
- Dicere, preterea vidit.
-
- He grasps her form, and clutches but the shade.
-
-Such may be the circumstances of the unreal world of dreams,
-or of poetical fancies approaching to dreams: for in these
-worlds our imaginary perceptions are bound by no rigid
-conditions of force and reaction. In {208} such cases, the
-mind casts off the empire of the idea of cause, as it casts
-off even the still more familiar sway of the ideas of space
-and time. But the character of the material world in which
-we live when awake is, that we have at every instant and at
-every place, force operating on matter and matter resisting
-force.
-
-3. _Solidity._--From our consciousness of muscular exertion,
-we derive, as we have seen, the conception of force, and
-with that also the conception of matter. We have already
-shown, in a former chapter, that the same part of our frame,
-the muscular system, is the organ by which we perceive
-extension and the relations of space. Thus the same organ
-gives us the perception of body as resisting force, and as
-occupying space; and by combining these conditions we have
-the conception of _solid_ extended bodies. In reality, this
-resistance is inevitably presented to our notice in the very
-facts from which we collect the notion of extension. For the
-action of the hand and arm by which we follow the forms of
-objects, implies that we apply our fingers to their surface;
-and we are stopped there by the resistance which the body
-offers. This resistance is precisely that which is requisite
-in order to make us conscious of cur muscular effort[10\3].
-Neither touch, nor any other mere passive sensation, could
-produce the perception of extent, as we have already urged:
-nor could the muscular sense lead to such a perception,
-except the extension of the muscles were felt to be
-resisted. And thus the perception of resistance enters the
-mind along with the perception of extended bodies. All the
-objects with which we have to do are not only extended but
-solid.
-
-[Note 10\3: Brown's _Lectures_, i. 466.]
-
-This sense of the term _solidity_, (the general property of
-all matter,) is different to that in which we oppose
-_solidity_ to _fluidity_. We may avoid ambiguity by opposing
-_rigid_ to _fluid_ bodies. By solid bodies, as we now speak
-of them, we mean only such as resist the pressure which we
-exert, so long as their parts continue in their places. By
-fluid bodies, we mean those {209} whose parts are, by a
-slight pressure, removed out of their places. A drop of
-water ceases to prevent the contact of our two hands, not by
-ceasing to have solidity in this sense, but by being thrust
-out of the way. If it could remain in its place, it could
-not cease to exercise its resistance to our pressure, except
-by ceasing to be matter altogether.
-
-The perception of solidity, like the perception of
-extension, implies an act of the mind, as well as an
-impression of the senses: as the perception of extension
-implies the idea of space, so the perception of solidity
-implies the idea of action and reaction. That an Idea is
-involved in our knowledge on this subject, appears, as in
-other instances, from this consideration, that the
-convictions of persons, even of those who allow of no ground
-of knowledge but experience, do in fact go far beyond the
-possible limits of experience. Thus Locke says[11\3], that
-'the bodies which we daily handle hinder by an
-_insurmountable_ force the approach of the parts of our
-hands that press them.' Now it is manifest that our
-observation can never go to this length. By our senses we
-can only perceive that bodies resist the greatest actual
-forces that we exert upon them. But our conception of force
-carries us further: and since, so long as the body is there
-to receive the action of the force, it must suffer the whole
-of that action, and must react as much as it suffers: it is
-therefore true, that so long as the body remains there, the
-force which is exerted upon it can never surmount the
-resistance which the body exercises. And thus this doctrine,
-that bodies resist the intrusion of other bodies by an
-insurmountable force, is, in fact, a consequence of the
-axiom that the reaction is always equal to the action.
-
-[Note 11\3: _Essay_, b. ii. c. 4.]
-
-4. _Inertia._--But this principle of the equality of action
-and reaction appears also in another way. Not only when we
-exert force upon bodies at rest, but when, by our exertions,
-we put them in motion, they react. If we set a large stone
-in motion, the stone {210} resists; for the operation
-requires an effort. By increasing the effort, we can
-increase the effect, that is, the motion produced; but the
-resistance still remains. And the greater the stone moved,
-the greater is the effort requisite to move it. There is, in
-every case, a resistance to motion, which shows itself, not
-in preventing the motion, but in a reciprocal force, exerted
-backwards upon the agent by which the motion is produced.
-And this resistance resides in each portion of matter, for
-it is increased as we add one portion of matter to another.
-We can push a light boat rapidly through the water; but we
-may go on increasing its freight, till we are barely able to
-stir it. This property of matter, then, by which it resists
-the reception of motion, or rather by which it reacts and
-requires an adequate force in order that any motion may
-result, is called its inertness, or _inertia_. That matter
-has such a property, is a conviction flowing from that idea
-of a reaction equal and opposite to the action, which the
-conception of all force involves. By what laws this inertia
-depends on the magnitude, form, and material of the body,
-must be the subject of our consideration hereafter. But that
-matter has this inertia, in virtue of which, as the matter
-is greater, the velocity which the same effort can
-communicate to it is less, is a principle inseparable from
-the notion of matter itself.
-
-Hermann says that Kepler first introduced this 'most
-significant' _inertia_. Whether it is to be found in earlier
-writers I know not; Kepler certainly does use it familiarly
-in those attempts to assign physical reasons for the motions
-of the planets which were among the main occasions of the
-discovery of the true laws of mechanics. He assumes the
-slowness of the motions of the planets to increase, (other
-causes remaining the same,) as the inertia increases; and
-though, even in this assumption, there is an errour
-involved, (if we adopt that interpretation of the term
-_inertia_ to which subsequent researches led,) the
-introduction of such a word was one step in determining and
-expressing those laws of motion which depend on the
-fundamental principle of the equality of action and
-reaction. {211}
-
-5. We have thus seen, I trust in a satisfactory manner, the
-origin of our conceptions of Force, Matter, Solidity, and
-Inertness. It has appeared that the organ by which we obtain
-such conceptions is that very muscular frame, which is the
-main instrument of our perceptions of space; but that,
-besides bodily sensations, these ideal conceptions, like all
-the others which we have hitherto considered, involve also
-an habitual activity of the mind, giving to our sensations a
-meaning which they could not otherwise possess. And among
-the ideas thus brought into play, is an idea of action with
-an equal and opposite reaction, which forms a foundation for
-universal truths to be hereafter established respecting the
-conceptions thus obtained.
-
-We must now endeavour to trace in what manner these
-fundamental principles and conceptions are unfolded by means
-of observation and reasoning, till they become an extensive
-yet indisputable science.
-
-
-
-{{212}}
-CHAPTER VI.
-
-OF THE ESTABLISHMENT OF THE PRINCIPLES OF STATICS.
-
-
-1. _Object of the Chapter._--IN the present and the
-succeeding chapters we have to show how the general axioms
-of Causation enable us to construct the science of
-Mechanics. We have to consider these axioms as moulding
-themselves, in the first place, into certain fundamental
-mechanical principles, which are of evident and necessary
-truth in virtue of their dependence upon the general axioms
-of Causation; and thus as forming a foundation for the whole
-structure of the science;--a system of truths no less
-necessary than the fundamental principles, because derived
-from these by rigorous demonstration.
-
-This account of the construction of the science of
-Mechanics, however generally treated, cannot be otherwise
-than technical in its details, and will probably be
-imperfectly understood by any one not acquainted with
-Mechanics as a mathematical science.
-
-I cannot omit this portion of my survey without rendering my
-work incomplete; but I may remark that the main purpose of
-it is to prove, in a more particular manner, what I have
-already declared in general, that there are, in Mechanics no
-less than in Geometry, fundamental principles of axiomatic
-evidence and necessity;--that these principles derive their
-axiomatic character from the Idea which they involve,
-namely, the Idea of Cause;--and that through the combination
-of principles of this kind, the whole science of Mechanics,
-including its most complex and remote results, exists as a
-body of solid and universal truths. {213}
-
-2. _Statics and Dynamics._--We must first turn our attention
-to a technical distinction of Mechanics into two portions,
-according as the forces about which we reason produce rest,
-or motion; the former portion is termed _Statics_, the
-latter _Dynamics_. If a stone fall, or a weight put a
-machine in motion, the problem belongs to Dynamics; but if
-the stone rest upon the ground, or a weight be merely
-supported by a machine, without being raised higher, the
-question is one of Statics.
-
-3. _Equilibrium._--In Statics, forces _balance_ each other,
-or keep each other _in equilibrium_. And forces which
-directly balance each other, or keep each other in
-equilibrium, are necessarily and manifestly equal. If we see
-two boys pull at two ends of a rope so that neither of them
-in the smallest degree prevails over the other, we have a
-case in which two forces are in equilibrium. The two forces
-are evidently equal, and are a statical exemplification of
-action and reaction, such as are spoken of in the third
-axiom concerning causes. Now the same exemplification occurs
-in every case of equilibrium. No point or body can be kept
-at rest except in virtue of opposing forces acting upon it;
-and these forces must always be equal in their opposite
-effect. When a stone lies on the floor, the weight of the
-stone downwards is opposed and balanced by an equal pressure
-of the floor upwards. If the stone rests on a slope, its
-tendency to slide is counteracted by some equal and opposite
-force, arising, it may be, from the resistance which the
-sloping ground opposes to any motion along its surface.
-Every case of rest is a case of equilibrium: every case of
-equilibrium is a case of equal and opposite forces.
-
-The most complex frame-work on which weights are supported,
-as the roof of a building, or the cordage of a machine, are
-still examples of equilibrium. In such cases we may have
-many forces all combining to balance each other; and the
-equilibrium will depend on various conditions of direction
-and magnitude among the forces. And in order to understand
-what are these conditions, we must ask, in the first place,
-what {214} we understand by the magnitude of such
-forces;--what is the measure of statical forces.
-
-4. _Measure of Statical Forces._--At first we might expect,
-perhaps, that since statical forces come under the general
-notion of Cause, the mode of measuring them would be derived
-from the second axiom of Causation, that causes are measured
-by their effects. But we find that the application of this
-axiom is controlled by the limitation which we noticed,
-after stating that axiom; namely, the condition that the
-causes shall be capable of addition. Further, as we have
-seen, a statical force produces no other effect than this,
-that it balances some other statical force; and hence the
-measure of statical forces is necessarily dependent upon
-their balancing, that is, upon the equality of action and
-reaction.
-
-That _statical forces are capable of addition_ is involved
-in our conception of such forces. When two men pull at a
-rope in the same direction, the forces which they exert are
-added together. When two heavy bodies are put into a basket
-suspended by a string, their weights are added, and the sum
-is supported by the string.
-
-Combining these considerations, it will appear that the
-measure of statical forces is necessarily given at once by
-the fundamental principle of the equality of action and
-reaction. Since two opposite forces which balance each other
-are equal, each force is measured by that which it balances;
-and since forces are capable of addition, a force of any
-magnitude is measured by adding together a proper number of
-such equal forces. Thus a heavy body which, appended to some
-certain elastic branch of a tree, would bend it down through
-one inch, may be taken as a unit of weight. Then if we
-remove this first body, and find a second heavy body which
-will also bend the branch through the same space, this is
-also a unit of weight; and in like manner we might go on to
-a third and a fourth equal body; and adding together the
-two, or the three, or the four heavy bodies, we have a force
-twice, or three times, or four times the unit of weight. And
-with {215} such a collection of heavy bodies, or _weights_,
-we can readily measure all other forces; for the same
-principle of the equality of action and reaction leads at
-once to this maxim, that any statical force is measured by
-the weight which it would support.
-
-As has been said, it might at first have been supposed that
-we should have to apply, in this case, the axiom that causes
-are measured by their effects in another manner; that thus,
-if that body were a unit of weight which bent the bough of a
-tree through one inch, _that_ body would be _two_ units
-which bent it through _two_ inches, and so on. But, as we
-have already stated, the measures of weight must be subject
-to this condition, that they are susceptible of being added:
-and therefore we cannot take the deflexion of the bough for
-our measure, till we have ascertained, that which experience
-alone can teach us, that under the burden of two equal
-weights, the deflexion will be twice as great as it is with
-one weight, which is not true, or at least is neither
-obviously nor necessarily true. In this, as in all other
-cases, although causes must be measured by their effects, we
-learn from experience only how the effects are to be
-interpreted, so as to give a true and consistent measure.
-
-With regard, however, to the measure of statical force, and
-of weight, no difficulty really occurred to philosophers
-from the time when they first began to speculate on such
-subjects; for it was easily seen that if we take any uniform
-material, as wood, or stone, or iron, portions of this which
-are geometrically equal, must also be equal in statical
-effect; since this was implied in the very hypothesis of a
-uniform material And a body ten times as large as another of
-the same substance, will be of ten times the weight. But
-before men could establish by reasoning the conditions under
-which weights would be in equilibrium, some other principles
-were needed in addition to the mere measure of forces. The
-principles introduced for this purpose still resulted from
-the conception of equal action and reaction; but it required
-no small clearness of thought to select them rightly, and to
-employ them {216} successfully. This, however, was done, to
-a certain extent, by the Greeks; and the treatise of
-Archimedes _On the Center of Gravity_, is founded on
-principles which may still be considered as the genuine
-basis of statical reasoning. I shall make a few remarks on
-the most important principle among those which Archimedes
-thus employs.
-
-5. _The Center of Gravity._--The most important of the
-principles which enter into the demonstration of Archimedes
-is this: that "Every body has a center of gravity;" meaning
-by the center of gravity, a point at which the whole matter
-of the body may be supposed to be collected, to all intents
-and purposes of statical reasoning. This principle has been
-put in various forms by succeeding writers: for instance, it
-has been thought sufficient to assume a case much simpler
-than the general one; and to assert that two _equal_ bodies
-have their center of gravity in the point midway between
-them. It is to be observed, that this assertion not only
-implies that the two bodies will _balance_ upon a support
-placed at that midway point, but also, that they will
-exercise, upon such a support, a _pressure equal to their
-sum_; for this point being the center of gravity, the whole
-matter of the two bodies may be conceived to be collected
-there, and therefore the whole weight will press there. And
-thus the principle in question amounts to this, that _when
-two equal heavy bodies are supported on the middle point
-between them, the pressure upon the support is equal to the
-sum of the weights of the bodies_.
-
-A clear understanding of the nature and grounds of this
-principle is of great consequence: for in it we have the
-foundation of a large portion of the science of Mechanics.
-And if this principle can be shown to be necessarily true,
-in virtue of our Fundamental Ideas, we can hardly doubt that
-there exist many other truths of the same kind, and that no
-sound view of the evidence and extent of human knowledge can
-be obtained, so long as we mistake the nature of these, its
-first principles. {217}
-
-The above principle, that the pressure on the support is
-equal to the sum of the bodies supported, is often stated as
-an axiom in the outset of books on Mechanics. And this
-appears to be the true place and character of this
-principle, in accordance with the reasonings which we have
-already urged. The axiom depends upon our conception of
-action and reaction. That the two weights are supported,
-implies that the supporting force must be equal to the force
-or weight supported.
-
-In order further to show the foundation of this principle,
-we may ask the question:--If it be not an axiom, deriving
-its truth from the fundamental conception of equal action
-and reaction, which equilibrium always implies, what is the
-origin of its certainty? The principle is never for an
-instant denied or questioned: it is taken for granted, even
-before it is stated. No one will doubt that it is not only
-true, but true with the same rigour and universality as the
-axioms of Geometry. Will it be said, that it is borrowed
-from experience? Experience could never prove a principle to
-be universally and rigorously true. Moreover, when from
-experience we prove a proposition to possess great exactness
-and generality, we approach by degrees to this proof: the
-conviction becomes stronger, the truth more secure, as we
-accumulate trials. But nothing of this kind is the case in
-the instance before us. There is no gradation from less to
-greater certainty;--no hesitation which precedes confidence.
-From the first, we know that the axiom is exactly and
-certainly true. In order to be convinced of it, we do not
-require many trials, but merely a clear understanding of the
-assertion itself.
-
-But in fact, not only are trials not necessary to the proof,
-but they do not strengthen it. Probably no one ever made a
-trial for the purpose of showing that the pressure upon the
-support is equal to the sum of the two weights. Certainly no
-person with clear mechanical conceptions ever wanted such a
-trial to convince him of the truth; or thought the truth
-clearer after the trial had been made. If to such a person,
-an {218} experiment were shown which seemed to contradict
-the principle, his conclusion would be, not that the
-principle was doubtful, but that the apparatus was out of
-order. Nothing can be less like collecting truth from
-experience than this.
-
-We maintain, then, that this equality of mechanical action
-and reaction, is one of the principles which do not flow
-from, but regulate our experience. To this principle, the
-facts which we observe must conform; and we cannot help
-interpreting them in such a manner that they shall be
-exemplifications of the principle. A mechanical pressure not
-accompanied by an equal and opposite pressure, can no more
-be given by experience, than two unequal right angles. With
-the supposition of such inequalities, space ceases to be
-space, force ceases to be force, matter ceases to be matter.
-And this equality of action and reaction, considered in the
-case in which two bodies are connected so as to act on a
-single support, leads to the axiom which we have stated
-above, and which is one of the main foundations of the
-science of Mechanics.
-
-[2d ed.] [To the doctrine that mechanical principles, such
-as the one here under consideration (that the pressure on
-the point of support is equal to the sum of the weights),
-are derived from our Ideas, and do not flow from but
-regulate our experience, objections are naturally made by
-those who assert all our knowledge to be derived from
-experience. How, they ask, can we know the properties of
-pressures, levers and the like, except from experience? What
-but experience can possibly inform us that a force applied
-transversely to a lever will have any tendency to turn the
-lever on its center? This cannot be, except we suppose in
-the lever tenacity, rigidity and the like, which are
-qualities known only by experience. And it is obvious that
-this line of argument might be carried on through the whole
-subject.
-
-My answer to this objection is a remark of the same kind as
-one which I have made respecting the Ideas of Space, Time,
-and Number, in the last Book. The mind, in apprehending
-events as causes {219} and effects, is governed by Laws of
-its own Activity; and these Laws govern the results of the
-mind's action; and make these results conform to the Axioms
-of Causation. But this activity of the mind is awakened and
-developed by being exercised; and in dealing with the
-examples of cause and effect here spoken of, (namely,
-pressure and resistance, force and motion,) the mind's
-activity is necessarily governed also by the bodily powers
-of perception and action. We are human beings only in so far
-as we have existed in space and time; and of our human
-faculties, developed by our existence in space and time,
-space and time are necessary conditions. In like manner, we
-are human beings only in so far as we have bodies, and
-bodily organs; and our bodies necessarily imply material
-objects external to us. And hence our human faculties,
-developed by our bodily existence in a material world, have
-the conditions of matter for their necessary Laws. I have
-already said (chap. v.) that our conception of Force arises
-with our consciousness of our own muscular exertions;--that
-Force cannot be conceived without Resistance to exercise
-itself upon;--and that this resistance is supplied by
-Matter. And thus the conception of Matter, and of the most
-general modes in which Matter receives, resists, and
-transmits force, are parts of our constitution which, though
-awakened and unfolded by our being in a material world, are
-not distinguishable from the original structure of the mind.
-I do not ascribe to the mind _innate_ Ideas--Ideas which it
-would have, even if it had no intercourse with the world of
-space, time, and matter; because we cannot imagine a mind in
-such a state. But I attempt to point out and classify those
-Conditions of all Experience, to which the intercourse of
-all minds with the material world has necessarily given rise
-in all. Truths _thus_ necessarily acquired in the course of
-all experience, cannot be said to be learnt _from
-experience_, in the same sense in which particular facts, at
-definite times, are learnt from experience--learnt by some
-persons and not by others--learnt with more or less of
-certainty. These latter _special truths of_ {220}
-_experience_ will be very important subjects of our
-consideration; but our whole chance of discussing them with
-any profit depends upon our keeping them distinct from the
-_necessary and universal conditions of experience_. Here, as
-everywhere, we must keep in view the fundamental antithesis
-of Ideas and Facts.]
-
-6. _Oblique Forces._--By the aid of the above axiom and a
-few others, the Greeks made some progress in the science of
-Statics. But after a short advance, they arrived at another
-difficulty, that of Oblique Forces, which they never
-overcame; and which no mathematician mastered till modern
-times. The unpublished manuscripts of Leonardo da Vinci,
-written in the fifteenth century, and the works of Stevinus
-and Galileo, in the sixteenth, are the places in which we
-find the first solid grounds of reasoning on the subject of
-forces acting obliquely to each other. And from that period,
-mathematicians, having thus become possessed of all the
-mechanical principles which are requisite in problems
-respecting equilibrium, soon framed a complete science of
-Statics. Succeeding writers presented this science in forms
-variously modified; for it was found, in Mechanics as in
-Geometry, that various propositions might be taken as the
-starting points; and that the collection of truths which it
-was the mechanician's business to include in his course,
-might thus be traversed by various routes, each path
-offering a series of satisfactory demonstrations. The
-fundamental conceptions of force and resistance, like those
-of space and number, could be contemplated under different
-aspects, each of which might be made the basis of axioms, or
-of principles employed as axioms. Hence the grounds of the
-truth of Statics may be stated in various ways; and it would
-be a task of some length to examine all these completely,
-and to trace them to their Fundamental Ideas. This I shall
-not undertake here to do; but the philosophical importance
-of the subject makes it proper to offer a few remarks on
-some of the main principles involved in the different modes
-of presenting Statics as a rigorously demonstrated science.
-{221}
-
-7. _A Force may be supposed to act at any Point of its
-Direction._--It has been stated in the history of
-Mechanics[12\3], that Leonardo da Vinci and Galileo obtained
-the true measure of the effect of oblique forces, by
-reasonings which were, in substance, the same. The principle
-of these reasonings is that expressed at the head of this
-paragraph; and when we have a little accustomed ourselves to
-contemplate our conceptions of force, and its action on
-matter, in an abstract manner, we shall have no difficulty
-in assenting to the principle in this general form. But it
-may, perhaps, be more obvious at first in a special case.
-
-[Note 12\3: _Hist. Ind. Sc._ b. vi. c. i. sect. 2.]
-
-If we suppose a wheel, moveable about its axis, and carrying
-with it in its motion a weight, (as, for example, one of the
-wheels by means of which the large bells of a church are
-rung,) this weight may be supported by means of a rope (not
-passing along the circumference of the wheel, as is usual in
-the case of bells,) but fastened to one of the spokes of the
-wheel. Now the principle which is enunciated above asserts,
-that if the rope pass in a straight line across several of
-the spokes of the wheel, it makes no difference in the
-mechanical effect of the force applied, for the purpose of
-putting the bell in motion, to _which_ of these spokes the
-rope is _fastened_. In each case, the fastening of the rope
-to the wheel merely serves to enable the force to produce
-motion about the center; and so long as the force acts in
-the same line, the effect is the same, at whatever point of
-the rope the line of action finishes.
-
-This axiom very readily aids us in estimating the effect of
-oblique forces. For when a force acts on one of the arms of
-a lever at any oblique angle, we suppose another arm
-projecting from the center of motion, like another spoke of
-the same wheel, so situated that it is perpendicular to the
-force. This arm we may, with Leonardo, call the _virtual
-lever_; for, by the axiom, we may suppose the force to act
-where the line of its direction meets this arm; and thus we
-reduce the case {222} to that in which the force acts
-perpendicularly on the arm.
-
-The ground of this axiom is, that matter, in Statics, is
-necessarily conceived as _transmitting_ force. That force
-can be transmitted from one place to another, by means of
-matter;--that we can push with a rod, pull with a rope,--are
-suppositions implied in our conceptions of force and matter.
-Matter is, as we have said, that which receives the
-impression of force, and the modes just mentioned, are the
-simplest ways in which that impression operates. And since,
-in any of these cases, the force might be resisted by a
-reaction equal to the force itself, the reaction in each
-case would be equal, and, therefore, the action in each case
-is necessarily equal; and thus the forces must be
-transmitted, from one point to another, without increase or
-diminution.
-
-This property of matter, of transmitting the action of
-force, is of various kinds. We have the coherence of a rope
-which enables us to pull, and the rigidity of a staff, which
-enables us to push with it in the direction of its length;
-and again, the same staff has a rigidity of another kind, in
-virtue of which we can use it as a lever; that is, a
-rigidity to resist flexure, and to transmit the force which
-turns a body round a fulcrum. There is, further, the
-rigidity by which a solid body resists _twisting_. Of these
-kinds of rigidity, the first is that to which our axiom
-refers; but in order to complete the list of the elementary
-principles of Statics, we ought also to lay down axioms
-respecting the other kinds of rigidity[13\3]. These,
-however, I shall not here state, as they do not involve any
-new principle. Like the one just considered, they form part
-of our fundamental conception of matter; they are not the
-results of any experience, but are the hypotheses to which
-we are irresistibly led, when we would liberate our
-reasonings concerning force and matter from a dependence on
-the special results of experience. We cannot even {223}
-conceive (that is, if we have any clear mechanical
-conceptions at all) the force exerted by the point of a
-staff and resisting the force which we steadily impress on
-the head of it, to be different from the impressed force.
-
-[Note 13\3: Such axioms are given in a little work (_The
-Mechanical Euclid_) which I published on the Elements of
-Mechanics.]
-
-8. _Forces may have equivalent Forces substituted for them.
-The Parallelogram of Forces._--It has already been observed,
-that in order to prove the doctrines of Statics, we may take
-various principles as our starting points, and may still
-find a course of demonstration by which the leading
-propositions belonging to the subject may be established.
-Thus, instead of beginning our reasonings, as in the last
-section we supposed them to commence, with the case in which
-forces act upon different points of the same body in the
-same line of force, and counteract each other in virtue of
-the intervening matter by which the effect of force is
-transferred from one point to another; we may suppose
-different forces to act at the same point, and may thus
-commence our reasonings with a case in which we have to
-contemplate force, without having to take into our account
-the resistance or rigidity of matter. Two statical forces,
-thus acting at a mathematical point, are equivalent, in all
-respects, to some single force acting at the same point; and
-would be kept in equilibrium by a force equal and opposite
-to that single force. And the rule by which the single force
-is derived from the two, is commonly termed _the
-parallelogram of forces_; the proposition being this,--That
-if the two forces be represented in magnitude and direction
-by the two sides of a parallelogram, the resulting force
-will be represented in the same manner by the diagonal of
-the parallelogram. This proposition has very frequently been
-made, by modern writers, the commencement of the science of
-Mechanics: a position for which, by its simplicity, it is
-well suited; although, in order to deduce from it the other
-elementary propositions of the science, as, for instance,
-those respecting the lever, we require the axiom stated in
-the last section.
-
-9. _The Parallelogram of Forces is a necessary Truth._--In
-the series of discussions in which we are {224} here
-engaged, our main business is to ascertain the nature and
-grounds of the certainty of scientific truths. We have,
-therefore, to ask whether this proposition, the
-parallelogram of forces, be a necessary truth; and if so, on
-what grounds its necessity ultimately rests. We shall find
-that this, like the other fundamental doctrines of Statics,
-justly claim a demonstrative certainty. Daniel Bernoulli, in
-1726, gave the first proof of this important proposition on
-pure statical principles; and thus, as he says[14\3],
-'proved that statical theorems are not less necessarily true
-than geometrical are.' If we examine this proof of
-Bernoulli, in order to discover what are the principles on
-which it rests, we shall find that the reasoning employs in
-its progress such axioms as this;--That if from forces which
-are in equilibrium at a point be taken away other forces
-which are in equilibrium at the same point, the remainder
-will be in equilibrium; and generally;--That if forces can
-be resolved into other equivalent forces, these may be
-separated, grouped, and recombined, in any new manner, and
-the result will still be identical with what it was at
-first. Thus in Bernoulli's proof, the two forces to be
-compounded are represented by P and Q; P is resolved into
-two other forces, X and U; and Q into two others, Y and V,
-under certain conditions. It is then assumed that these
-forces may be grouped into the pairs X, Y, and U, V: and
-when it has been shown that X and Y are in equilibrium, they
-may, by what has been said, be removed, and the forces, P,
-Q, are equivalent to U, V; which, being in the same
-direction by the course of the construction, have a result
-equal to their sum.
-
-[Note 14\3: _Comm. Petrop._ vol. i.]
-
-It is clear that the principles here assumed are genuine
-axioms, depending upon our conception of the nature of
-equivalence of forces, and upon their being capable of
-addition and composition. If the forces, P, Q, be
-_equivalent_ to forces X, U, Y, V, they are equivalent to
-these forces added and compounded in any order; just as a
-geometrical figure is, by our conception of {225} space,
-equivalent to its parts added together in any order. The
-apprehension of forces as having magnitude, as made up of
-parts, as capable of composition, leads to such axioms in
-Statics, in the same manner as the like apprehension of
-space leads to the axioms of Geometry. And thus the truths
-of Statics, resting upon such foundations, are independent
-of experience in the same manner in which geometrical truths
-are so.
-
-The proof of the parallelogram of forces thus given by
-Daniel Bernoulli, as it was the first, is also one of the
-most simple proofs of that proposition which have been
-devised up to the present day. Many other demonstrations,
-however, have been given of the same proposition. Jacobi, a
-German mathematician, has collected and examined eighteen of
-these[15\3]. They all depend either upon such principles as
-have just been stated; That forces may in every way be
-replaced by those which are equivalent to them;--or else
-upon those previously stated, the doctrine of the lever, and
-the transfer of a force from one point to another of its
-direction. In either case, they are necessary results of our
-statical conceptions, independent of any observed laws of
-motion, and indeed, of the conception of actual motion
-altogether.
-
-[Note 15\3: These are by the following mathematicians; D.
-Bernoulli (1726); Lambert (1771); Scarella (1756); Venini
-(1764); Araldi (1806); Wachter (1815); Kaestner; Marini;
-Eytelwein; Salimbeni; Duchayla; two different proofs by
-Foncenex (1760); three by D'Alembert; and those of Laplace
-and M. Poisson.]
-
-There is another class of alleged proofs of the
-parallelogram of forces, which involve the consideration of
-the motion produced by the forces. But such reasonings are,
-in fact, altogether irrelevant to the subject of Statics. In
-that science, forces are not measured by the motion which
-they produce, but by the forces which they will balance, as
-we have already seen. The combination of two forces employed
-in producing motion in the same body, either simultaneously
-or successively, {226} belongs to that part of Mechanics
-which has motion for its subject, and is to be considered in
-treating of the laws of motion. The composition of motion,
-(as when a man moves in a ship while the ship moves through
-the water,) has constantly been confounded with the
-composition of force. But though it has been done by very
-eminent mathematicians, it is quite necessary for us to keep
-the two subjects distinct, in order to see the real nature
-of the evidence of truth in either case. The conditions of
-equilibrium of two forces on a lever, or of three forces at
-a point, can be established without any reference whatever
-to any motions which the forces might, under _other_
-circumstances, produce. And because this can be done, to do
-so is the only scientific procedure. To prove such
-propositions by any other course, would be to support truth
-by extraneous and inconclusive reasons; which would be
-foreign to our purpose, since we seek not only knowledge,
-but the grounds of our knowledge.
-
-10. _The Center of gravity seeks the lowest place._--The
-principles which we have already mentioned afford a
-sufficient basis for the science of Statics in its most
-extensive and varied applications; and the conditions of
-equilibrium of the most complex combinations of machinery
-may be deduced from these principles with a rigour not
-inferior to that of geometry. But in some of the more
-complex cases, the results of long trains of reasoning may
-be foreseen, in virtue of certain maxims which appear to us
-self-evident, although it may not be easy to trace the exact
-dependence of these maxims upon our fundamental conceptions
-of force and matter. Of this nature is the maxim now
-stated;--That in any combination of matter any how
-supported, the Center of Gravity will descend into the
-lowest position which the connexion of the parts allows it
-to assume by descending. It is easily seen that this maxim
-carries to a much greater extent the principle which the
-Greek mathematicians assumed, that every body has a Center
-of Gravity, that is, a point in which, if the whole matter
-of the body be collected, the effect will remain unchanged.
-For the Greeks asserted this of a {227} single rigid mass
-only; whereas, in the maxim now under our notice, it is
-asserted of any masses, connected by strings, rods, joints,
-or in any manner. We have already seen that more modern
-writers on mechanics, desirous of assuming as fundamental no
-wider principles than are absolutely necessary, have not
-adopted the Greek axiom in all its generality, but have only
-asserted that two _equal_ weights have a center of gravity
-midway between them. Yet the principle that every body,
-however irregular, has a center of gravity, and will be
-supported if that center is supported, and not otherwise, is
-so far evident, that it might be employed as a fundamental
-truth, if we could not resolve it into any simpler truths:
-and, historically speaking, it was assumed as evident by the
-Greeks. In like manner the still wider principle, that a
-collection of bodies, as, for instance, a flexible chain
-hanging upon one or more supports, has a center of gravity;
-and that this point will descend to the lowest possible
-situation, as a single body would do, has been adopted at
-various periods in the history of mechanics; and especially
-at conjunctures when mathematical philosophers have had new
-and difficult problems to contend with. For in almost every
-instance it has only been by repeated struggles that
-philosophers have reduced the solution of such problems to a
-clear dependence upon the most simple axioms.
-
-11. _Stevinus's Proof for Oblique Forces._--We have an
-example of this mode of dealing with problems, in Stevinus's
-mode of reasoning concerning the Inclined Plane; which, as
-we have stated in the History of Mechanics, was the first
-correct published solution of that problem. Stevinus
-supposes a loop of chain, or a loop of string loaded with a
-series of equal balls at equal distances, to hang over the
-Inclined Plane; and his reasoning proceeds upon this
-assumption,--That such a loop so hanging will find a certain
-position in which it will rest: for otherwise, says
-he[16\3], its motion must go on for ever, which is absurd.
-It may be asked how {228} this absurdity of a perpetual
-motion appears; and it will perhaps be added, that although
-the impossibility of a machine with such a condition may be
-proved as a remote result of mechanical principles, this
-impossibility can hardly be itself recognized as a
-self-evident truth. But to this we may reply, that the
-impossibility is really evident in the case contemplated by
-Stevinus; for we cannot conceive a loop of chain to go on
-through all eternity, sliding round and round upon its
-support, by the effect of its own weight. And the ground of
-our conviction that this cannot be, seems to be this
-consideration; that when the chain moves by the effect of
-its weight, we consider its motion as the result of an
-effort to reach some certain position, in which it can rest;
-just as a single ball in a bowl moves till it comes to rest
-at the lowest point of the bowl. Such an effect of weight in
-the chain, we may represent to ourselves by conceiving all
-the matter of the chain to be collected in one single point,
-and this single heavy point to hang from the support in some
-way or other, so as fitly to represent the mode of support
-of the chain. In whatever manner this heavy point (the
-center of gravity of the chain) be supported and controlled
-in its movements, there will still be some position of rest
-which it will seek and find. And thus there will be some
-corresponding position of rest for the chain; and the
-interminable shifting from one position to another, with no
-disposition to rest in any position, cannot exist.
-
-[Note 16\3: Stevin. _Statique_, livre i. prop. 19.]
-
-Thus the demonstration of the property of the Inclined Plane
-by Stevinus, depends upon a principle which, though far from
-being the simplest of those to which the case can be
-reduced, is still both true and evident: and the evidence of
-this principle, depending upon the assumption of a center of
-gravity, is of the same nature as the evidence of the Greek
-statical demonstrations, the earliest real advances in the science.
-
-12. _Principle of Virtual Velocities._--We have referred
-above to an assertion often made, that we may, from the
-simple principles of Mechanics, demonstrate the
-impossibility of a perpetual motion. In reality, {229}
-however, the simplest proof of that impossibility, in a
-machine acted upon by weight only, arises from the very
-maxim above stated, that the center of gravity seeks and
-finds the lowest place; or from some similar proposition.
-For if, as is done by many writers, we profess to prove the
-impossibility of a perpetual motion by means of that
-proposition which includes the conditions of equilibrium,
-and is called the _Principle of Virtual Velocities_[17\3],
-we are under the necessity of first proving in a general
-manner that principle. And if this be done by a mere
-enumeration of cases, (as by taking those five cases which
-are called the _Mechanical Powers_,) there may remain some
-doubts whether the enumeration of possible mechanical
-combinations be complete. Accordingly, some writers have
-attempted independent and general proofs of the Principle of
-Virtual Velocities; and these proofs rest upon assumptions
-of the same nature as that now under notice. This is, for
-example, the case with Lagrange's proof, which depends upon
-what he calls the _Principle of Pulleys_. For this principle
-is,--That a weight any how supported, as by a string passing
-round any number of pulleys any how placed, will be at rest
-then only, when it cannot get lower by any small motion of
-the pulleys. And thus the maxim that a weight will descend
-if it can, is assumed as the basis of this proof.
-
-[Note 17\3: See _Hist. Ind Sc._ b. vi. c. ii. sect. 4.]
-
-There is, as we have said, no need to assume such principles
-as these for the foundation of our mechanical science. But
-it is, on various accounts, useful to direct our attention
-to those cases in which truths, apprehended at first in a
-complex and derivative form, have afterwards been reduced to
-their simpler elements;--in which, also, sagacious and
-inventive men have fixed upon those truths as self-evident,
-which now appear to us only certain in virtue of
-demonstration. In these cases we can hardly doubt that such
-men were led to assert the doctrines which they discovered,
-not by any capricious conjecture of arbitrary selection, but
-by having a keener and deeper insight than other persons
-{230} into the relations which were the object of their
-contemplation; and in the science now spoken of, they were
-led to their assumptions by possessing clearly and
-distinctly the conceptions of mechanical cause and
-effect,--action and reaction,--force, and the nature of its
-operation.
-
-13. _Fluids press Equally in all Directions._--The doctrines
-which concern the equilibrium of fluids depend on principles
-no less certain and simple than those which refer to the
-equilibrium of solid bodies; and the Greeks, who, as we have
-seen, obtained a clear view of some of the principles of
-Statics, also made a beginning in the kindred subject of
-Hydrostatics. We still possess a treatise of Archimedes _On
-Floating Bodies_, which contains correct solutions of
-several problems belonging to this subject, and of some
-which are by no means easy. In this treatise, the
-fundamental assumption is of this kind: 'Let it be assumed
-that the nature of a fluid is such, that the parts which are
-less pressed yield to those which are more pressed.' In this
-assumption or axiom it is implied that a pressure exerted
-upon a fluid in one direction produces a pressure in another
-direction; thus, the weight of the fluid which arises from a
-downward force produces a lateral pressure against the sides
-of the containing vessel. Not only does the pressure thus
-diverge from its original direction into all other
-directions, but the pressure is in all directions exactly
-equal, an equal extent of the fluid being taken. This
-principle, which was involved in the reasoning of
-Archimedes, is still to the present day the basis of all
-hydrostatical treatises, and is expressed, as above, by
-saying that _fluids press equally in all directions_.
-
-Concerning this, as concerning previously-noticed
-principles, we have to ask whether it can rightly be said to
-be derived from experience. And to this the answer must
-still be, as in the former cases, that the proposition is
-not one borrowed from experience in any usual or exact sense
-of the phrase. I will endeavour to illustrate this. There
-are many elementary propositions in physics, our knowledge
-of which {231} indisputably depends upon experience; and in
-these cases there is no difficulty in seeing the evidence of
-this dependence. In such cases, the _experiments_ which
-prove the law are prominently stated in treatises upon the
-subject: they are given with exact measures, and with an
-account of the means by which errours were avoided: the
-experiments of more recent times have either rendered more
-certain the law originally asserted, or have pointed out
-some correction of it as requisite: and the names, both of
-the discoverers of the law and of its subsequent reformers,
-are well known. For instance, the proposition that 'The
-elastic force of air varies as the density,' was first
-proved by Boyle, by means of operations of which the detail
-is given in his _Defence_ of his _Pneumatical
-Experiments_[18\3]; and by **Mariotte in his _Traité de
-l'Équilibre des Liquides_, from whom it has generally been
-termed Mariotte's law. After being confirmed by many other
-experimenters, this law was suspected to be slightly
-inaccurate, and a commission of the French Academy of
-Sciences was appointed, consisting of several distinguished
-philosophers[19\3], to ascertain the truth or falsehood of
-this suspicion. The result of their investigations appeared
-to be, that the law is exact, as nearly as the inevitable
-inaccuracies of machinery and measures will allow us to
-judge. Here we have an example of a law which is of the
-simplest kind and form; and which yet is not allowed to rest
-upon its simplicity or apparent probability, but is
-rigorously tested by experience. In this case, the
-assertion, that the law depends upon experience, contains a
-reference to plain and notorious passages in the history of
-science.
-
-[Note 18\3: Shaw's _Boyle_, Vol. ii. p. 671.]
-
-[Note 19\3: The members were Prony, Arago, Ampère, Girard,
-and Dulong. The experiments were extended to a pressure of
-twenty-seven atmospheres; and in no instance did the
-difference between the observed and calculated elasticity
-amount to one-hundredth of the whole; nor did the difference
-appear to increase with the increase of pressure.--Fechner,
-_Repertorium_, i. 110.]
-
-Now with regard to the principle that fluids press equally
-in all directions, the case is altogether different. {232}
-It is, indeed, often asserted in works on hydrostatics, that
-the principle is collected from experience, and sometimes a
-few experiments are described as exhibiting its effect; but
-these are such as to illustrate and explain, rather than to
-prove, the truth of the principle: they are never related to
-have been made with that exactness of precaution and
-measurement, or that frequency of repetition, which are
-necessary to establish a purely experimental truth. Nor did
-such experiments occur as important steps in the history of
-science. It does not appear that Archimedes thought
-experiment necessary to confirm the truth of the law as he
-employed it: on the contrary, he states it in exactly the
-same shape as the axioms which he employs in statics, and
-even in geometry; namely, as an assumption. Nor does any
-intelligent student of the subject find any difficulty in
-assenting to this fundamental principle of hydrostatics as
-soon as it is propounded to him. Experiment was not
-requisite for its discovery; experiment is not necessary for
-its proof at present; and we may add, that experiment,
-though it may make the proposition the more readily
-intelligible, can add nothing to our conviction of its truth
-when it is once understood.
-
-14. _Foundation of the above Axiom._--But it will naturally
-be asked, What then is the ground of our conviction of this
-doctrine of the equal pressure of a fluid in all directions?
-And to this I reply, that the reasons of this conviction are
-involved in our idea of a fluid, which is considered as
-matter, and therefore as capable of receiving, resisting,
-and transmitting force according to the general conception
-of matter; and which is also considered as matter which has
-its parts perfectly moveable among one another. For it
-follows from these suppositions, that if the fluid be
-confined, a pressure which thrusts in one side of the
-containing vessel, may cause any other side to bulge
-outwards, if there be a part of the surface which has not
-strength to resist this pressure from within. And that this
-pressure, when thus transferred into a direction different
-from the original one, is not altered in intensity, {233}
-depends upon this consideration; that any difference in the
-two pressures would be considered as a defect of _perfect_
-fluidity, since the fluidity would be still more complete,
-if this entire and undiminished transmission of pressure in
-all directions were supposed. If, for instance, the lateral
-pressure were less than the vertical, this could be
-conceived no other way than as indicating some rigidity or
-adhesion of the parts of the fluid. When the fluidity is
-perfect, the two pressures which act in the two different
-parts of the fluid exactly balance each other: they are the
-action and the reaction; and must hence be equal by the same
-necessity as two directly opposite forces in statics.
-
-But it may be urged, that even if we grant that this
-conception of a perfect fluid, as a body which has its parts
-perfectly moveable among each other, leads us necessarily to
-the principle of the equality of hydrostatic pressure in all
-directions, still this conception itself is obtained from
-experience, or suggested by observation. And to this we may
-reply, that the conception of a fluid, as contemplated in
-mechanical theory, cannot be said to be derived from
-experience, except in the same manner as the conception of a
-solid and rigid body may be said to be acquired by
-experience. For if we imagine a vessel full of small, smooth
-spherical balls, such a collection of balls would approach
-to the nature of a fluid, in having its parts moveable among
-each other; and would approach to perfect fluidity, as the
-balls became smoother and smaller. And such a collection of
-balls would also possess the statical properties of a fluid;
-for it would transmit pressure out of a vertical into a
-lateral (or any other) direction, in the same manner as a
-fluid would do. And thus a collection of solid bodies has
-the same property which a fluid has; and the science of
-Hydrostatics borrows from experience no principles beyond
-those which are involved in the science of Statics
-respecting solids. And since in this latter portion of
-science, as we have already seen, none of the principles
-depend for their evidence upon any special experience, the
-doctrines of Hydrostatics also are not {234} proved by
-experience, but have a necessary truth borrowed from the
-relations of our ideas.
-
-It is hardly to be expected that the above reasoning will,
-at first sight, produce conviction in the mind of the
-reader, except he have, to a certain extent, acquainted
-himself with the elementary doctrines of the science of
-Hydrostatics as usually delivered; and have followed, with
-clear and steady apprehension, some of the trains of
-reasoning by which the pressures of fluids are determined;
-as, for instance, the explanation of what is called _the
-Hydrostatic Paradox_. The necessity of such a discipline in
-order that the reader may enter fully into this part of our
-speculations, naturally renders them less popular; but this
-disadvantage is inevitable in our plan. We cannot expect to
-throw light upon philosophy by means of the advances which
-have been made in the mathematical and physical sciences,
-except we really understand the doctrines which have been
-firmly established in those sciences. This preparation for
-philosophizing may be somewhat laborious; but such labour is
-necessary if we would pursue speculative truth with all the
-advantages which the present condition of human knowledge
-places within our reach.
-
-We may add, that the consequences to which we are directed
-by the preceding opinions, are of very great importance in
-their bearing upon our general views respecting human
-knowledge. I trust to be able to show, that some important
-distinctions are illustrated, some perplexing paradoxes
-solved, and some large anticipations of the future extension
-of our knowledge suggested, by means of the conclusions to
-which the preceding discussions have conducted us. But
-before I proceed to these general topics, I must consider
-the foundations of some of the remaining portions of the
-science of Mechanics.
-
-
-
-{{235}}
-CHAPTER VII.
-
-OF THE ESTABLISHMENT OF THE PRINCIPLES OF DYNAMICS.
-
-
-1. IN the History of Mechanics, I have traced the steps by
-which the three Laws of Motion and the other principles of
-mechanics were discovered, established, and extended to the
-widest generality of form and application. We have, in these
-laws, examples of principles which were, historically
-speaking, obtained by reference to experience. Bearing in
-mind the object and the result of the preceding discussions,
-we cannot but turn with much interest to examine these
-portions of science; to inquire whether there be any real
-difference in the grounds and nature between the knowledge
-thus obtained, and those truths which we have already
-contemplated; and which, as we have seen, contain their own
-evidence, and do not require proof from experiment.
-
-2. _The First Law of Motion._--The first law of motion is,
-that _When a body moves not acted upon by any force, it will
-go on perpetually in a straight line, and with a uniform
-velocity._ Now what is the real ground of our assent to this
-proposition? That it is not at first sight a self-evident
-truth, appears to be clear; since from the time of Aristotle
-to that of Galileo the opposite assertion was held to be
-true; and it was believed that all bodies in motion had, by
-their own nature, a constant tendency to move more and more
-slowly, so as to stop at last. This belief, indeed, is
-probably even now entertained by most persons, till their
-attention is fixed upon the arguments by which the first law
-of motion is established. It is, however, not difficult to
-lead any person of a speculative habit {236} of thought to
-see that the retardation which constantly takes place in the
-motion of all bodies when left to themselves, is, in
-reality, the effect of extraneous forces which destroy the
-velocity. A top ceases to spin because the friction against
-the ground and the resistance of the air gradually diminish
-its motion, and not because its motion has any internal
-principle of decay or fatigue. This may be shown, and was,
-in fact, shown by Hooke before the Royal Society, at the
-time when the laws of motion were still under discussion, by
-means of experiments in which the weight of the top is
-increased, and the resistance to motion offered by its
-support, is diminished; for by such contrivances its motion
-is made to continue much longer than it would otherwise do.
-And by experiments of this nature, although we can never
-remove the whole of the external impediments to continued
-motion, and although, consequently, there will always be
-some retardation; and an end of the motion of a body left to
-itself, however long it may be delayed, must at last come;
-yet we can establish a conviction that if all resistance
-could be removed, there would be no diminution of velocity,
-and thus the motion would go on for ever.
-
-If we call to mind the axioms which we formerly stated, as
-containing the most important conditions involved in the
-idea of Cause, it will be seen that our conviction in this
-case depends upon the first axiom of Causation, that nothing
-can happen without a cause. Every change in the velocity of
-the moving body must have a cause; and if the change can, in
-any manner, be referred to the presence of other bodies,
-these are said to exert _force_ upon the moving body: and
-the conception of force is thus evolved from the general
-idea of cause. _Force is any cause which has motion, or
-change of motion, for its effect_; and thus, all the change
-of velocity of a body which can be referred to extraneous
-bodies,--as the air which surrounds it, or the support on
-which it rests,--is considered as the effect of forces; and
-this consideration is looked upon as explaining the
-difference between the motion which really takes places in
-the experiment, and that motion {237} which, as the law
-asserts, would take place if the body were not acted on by
-any forces.
-
-Thus the truth of the first law of motion depends upon the
-axiom that no change can take place without a cause; and
-follows from the definition of force, if we suppose that
-there can be none but an _external_ cause of change. But in
-order to establish the law, it was necessary further to be
-assured that there is no _internal_ cause of change of
-velocity belonging to all matter whatever, and operating in
-such a manner that the mere progress of time is sufficient
-to produce a diminution of velocity in all moving bodies. It
-appears from the history of mechanical science, that this
-latter step required a reference to observation and
-experiment; and that the first law of motion is so far,
-historically at least, dependent upon our experience.
-
-But notwithstanding this historical evidence of the need
-which we have of a reference to observed facts, in order to
-place this first law of motion out of doubt, it has been
-maintained by very eminent mathematicians and philosophers,
-that the law is, in truth, evident of itself, and does not
-really rest upon experimental proof. Such, for example, is
-the opinion of d'Alembert[20\3], who offers what is called
-an _à priori_ proof of this law; that is, a demonstration
-derived from our ideas alone. When a body is put in motion,
-either, he says, the cause which puts it in motion at first,
-suffices to make it move one foot, or the continued action
-of the cause during this foot is requisite for the motion.
-In the first case, the same reason which made the body
-proceed to the end of the first foot will hold for its going
-on through a second, a third, a fourth foot, and so on for
-any number. In the second case, the same reason which made
-the force continue to act during the first foot, will hold
-for its acting, and therefore for the body moving during
-each succeeding foot. And thus the body, once beginning to
-move, must go on moving for ever.
-
-[Note 20\3: _Dynamique._]
-
-{238} It is obvious that we might reply to this argument,
-that the reasons for the body proceeding during each
-succeeding foot may not necessarily be all the same; for
-among these reasons may be the time which has elapsed; and
-thus the velocity may undergo a change as the time proceeds:
-and we require observation to inform us that it does not do so.
-
-Professor Playfair has presented nearly the same argument,
-although in a different and more mathematical form[21\3]. If
-the velocity change, says he, it must change according to
-some expression of calculation depending upon the time, or,
-in mathematical language, must be a _function_ of the time.
-If the velocity diminish as the time increases, this may be
-expressed by stating the velocity in each case as a certain
-number, from which another quantity, or _term_, increasing
-as the time increases, is subtracted. But, Playfair adds,
-there is no condition involved in the nature of the case, by
-which the _coefficients_, or numbers which are to be
-employed, along with the number representing the time, in
-calculating this second term, can be determined to be of one
-magnitude rather than of any other. Therefore he infers
-there can be no such coefficients, and that the velocity is
-in each case equal to some constant number, independent of
-the time; and is therefore the same for all times.
-
-[Note 21\3: _Outlines of Natural Philosophy_, p. 26.]
-
-In reply to this we may observe, that the circumstance of
-_our not seeing_ in the nature of the case anything which
-determines for us the coefficients above spoken of, cannot
-prove that they have not some certain value _in nature_. We
-do not see in the nature of the case anything which should
-determine a body to fall sixteen feet in a second of time,
-rather than one foot or one hundred feet: yet in fact the
-space thus run through by falling bodies is determined to a
-certain magnitude. It would be easy to assign a mathematical
-expression for the velocity of a body, implying that
-one-hundredth of the velocity, or any other {239} fraction,
-is lost in each second[22\3]: and where is the absurdity of
-supposing such an expression really to represent the
-velocity?
-
-[Note 22\3: This would be the case, if, _t_ being the
-number of seconds elapsed, and _C_ some constant quantity,
-the velocity were expressed by this mathematical formula,
-_C_(99/100)^_t_.]
-
-Most modern writers on mechanics have embraced the opposite
-opinion, and have ascribed our knowledge of this first law
-of motion to experience. Thus M. Poisson, one of the most
-eminent of the mathematicians who have written on this
-subject, says[23\3], "We cannot affirm _à priori_ that the
-velocity communicated to a body will not become slower and
-slower of itself, and end by being entirely extinguished. It
-is only by experience and induction that this question can
-be decided."
-
-[Note 23\3: Poisson, _Dynamique_, ed. 2, art. 113.]
-
-Yet it cannot be denied that there is much force in those
-arguments by which it is attempted to show that the First
-Law of Motion, such as we find it, is more consonant to our
-conceptions than any other would be. The Law, as it exists,
-is the most simple that we can conceive. Instead of having
-to determine by experiments what is the law of the natural
-change of velocity, we find the Law to be that it does not
-change at all. To a certain extent, the Law depends upon the
-evident axiom, that no change can take place without a
-cause. But the question further occurs, whether the mere
-lapse of time may not be a cause of change of velocity. In
-order to ensure this, we have recourse to experiment; and
-the result is that time alone does not produce any such
-change. In addition to the conditions of change which we
-collect from our own Ideas, we ask of Experience what other
-conditions and circumstances she has to offer; and the
-answer is, that she can point out none; When we have removed
-the alterations which external causes, in our very
-conception of them, occasion, there are no longer any
-alterations. Instead of having to guide ourselves {240} by
-experience, we learn that on this subject she has nothing to
-tell us. Instead of having to take into account a number of
-circumstances, we find that we have only to reject all
-circumstances. The velocity of a body remains unaltered by
-time alone, of whatever kind the body itself be.
-
-But the doctrine that time alone is not a cause of change of
-velocity in any body is further recommended to us by this
-consideration;--that time is conceived by us not as a cause,
-but only as a condition of other causes producing their
-effects. Causes operate in time; but it is only when the
-cause exists, that the lapse of time can give rise to
-alterations. When therefore all external causes of change of
-velocity are supposed to be removed, the velocity must
-continue identical with itself, whatever the time which
-elapses. An eternity of negation can produce no positive
-result.
-
-Thus, though the discovery of the First Law of Motion was
-made, historically speaking, by means of experiment, we have
-now attained a point of view in which we see that it might
-have been certainly known to be true independently of
-experience. This law in its ultimate form, when completely
-simplified and steadily contemplated, assumes the character
-of a self-evident truth. We shall find the same process to
-take place in other instances. And this feature in the
-progress of science will hereafter be found to suggest very
-important views with regard both to the nature and prospects
-of our knowledge.
-
-3. _Gravity is a Uniform Force._--We shall find observations
-of the same kind offering themselves in a manner more or
-less obvious, with regard to the other principles of
-Dynamics. The determination of the laws according to which
-bodies fall downwards by the common action of gravity, has
-already been noticed in the History of Mechanics[24\3], as
-one of the earliest positive advances in the doctrine of
-motion. These laws were first rightly stated by Galileo, and
-{241} established by reasoning and by experiment, not
-without dissent and controversy. The amount of these
-doctrines is this: That gravity is a uniform accelerating
-force; such a _uniform force_ having this for its character,
-that it _makes the velocity increase in exact proportion to
-the time of motion_. The relation which the spaces described
-by the body bear to the times in which they are described,
-is obtained by mathematical deduction from this definition
-of the force.
-
-[Note 24\3: _Hist. Ind. Sc._ b. vi. c. ii. sect. 2.]
-
-The clear Definition of a uniform accelerating force, and
-the Proposition that gravity is such a force, were
-co-ordinate and contemporary steps in this discovery. In
-defining accelerating force, reference, tacit or express,
-was necessarily made to the second of the general axioms
-respecting causation,--That causes are measured by their
-effects. Force, in the cases now under our notice, is
-conceived to be, as we have already stated, (p. 236,) any
-cause which, acting from without, changes the motion of a
-body. It must, therefore, in this acceptation, be measured
-by the magnitude of the changes which are produced. But in
-what manner the changes of motion are to be employed as the
-measures of force, is learnt from observation of the facts
-which we see taking place in the world. Experience
-_interprets_ the axiom of causation, from which otherwise we
-could not deduce any real knowledge. We may assume, in
-virtue of our general conceptions of force, that under the
-same circumstances, a greater change of motion implies a
-greater force producing it; but what are we to expect when
-the circumstances change? The weight of a body makes it fall
-from rest at first, and causes it to move more quickly as it
-descends lower. We may express this by saying, that gravity,
-the universal force which makes all terrestrial bodies fall
-when not supported, by its continuous action first _gives_
-velocity to the body when it has none, and afterwards _adds_
-velocity to that which the body already has. But how is the
-velocity added proportioned to the velocity which already
-exists? Force acting on a body at rest, and on a body in
-motion, appears under very different {242} conditions;--how
-are the effects related? Let the force be conceived to be in
-both cases the same, since force is conceived to depend upon
-the extraneous bodies, and not upon the condition of the
-moving mass itself. But the force being the same, the
-effects may still be different. It is at first sight
-conceivable that the body, acted upon by the same gravity,
-may receive a less addition of velocity when it is already
-moving in the direction in which this gravity impels it; for
-if we ourselves push a body forwards, we can produce little
-additional effect upon it when it is already moving rapidly
-away from us. May it not be true, in like manner, that
-although gravity be always the same force, its effect
-depends upon the velocity which the body under its influence
-already possesses?
-
-Observation and reasoning combined, as we have said, enabled
-Galileo to answer these questions. He asserted and proved
-that we may consistently and properly measure a force by the
-velocity which is by it generated in a body, in some certain
-time, as one second; and further, that if we adopt this
-measure, gravity will be a force of the same value under all
-circumstances of the body which it affects; since it
-appeared that, in fact, a falling body does receive equal
-increments of velocity in equal times from first to last.
-
-If it be asked whether we could have known, anterior to, or
-independent of, experiment, that gravity is a uniform force
-in the sense thus imposed upon the term; it appears clear
-that we must reply, that we could not have attained to such
-knowledge, since other laws of the motion of bodies
-downwards are easily conceivable, and nothing but
-observation could inform us that one of these laws does not
-prevail in fact. Indeed, we may add, that the assertion that
-the force of gravity is uniform, is so far from being
-self-evident, that it is not even true; for gravity varies
-according to the distance from the center of the earth; and
-although this variation is so small as to be, in the case of
-falling bodies, imperceptible, it negatives the rigorous
-uniformity of the force as completely, though {243} not to
-the same extent, as if the weight of a body diminished in a
-marked degree, when it was carried from the lower to the
-upper room of a house. It cannot, then, be a truth
-independent of experience, that gravity is uniform.
-
-Yet, in fact, the assertion that gravity is uniform was
-assented to, not only before it was proved, but even before
-it was clearly understood. It was readily granted by all,
-that bodies which fall freely are _uniformly_ accelerated;
-but while some held the opinion just stated, that uniformly
-accelerated motion is that in which the velocity increases
-in proportion to the _time_, others maintained, that _that_
-is uniformly accelerated motion, in which the velocity
-increases in proportion to the _space_; so that, for
-example, a body in falling vertically through twenty feet
-should acquire twice as great a velocity as one which falls
-through ten feet.
-
-These two opinions are both put forward by the interlocutors
-of Galileo's Dialogue on this subject[25\3]. And the latter
-supposition is rejected, the author showing, not that it is
-inconsistent with experience, but that it is impossible in
-itself: inasmuch as it would inevitably lead to the
-conclusion, that the fall through a large and a small
-vertical space would occupy exactly the same time.
-
-[Note 25\3: _Dialogo_, iii. p. 95.]
-
-Indeed, Galileo assumes his definition of uniformly
-accelerated motion as one which is sufficiently recommended
-by its own simplicity. 'If we attend carefully,' he says,
-'we shall find that no mode of increase of velocity is more
-simple than that which adds equal increments in equal times.
-Which we may easily understand if we consider the close
-affinity of time and motion: for as the uniformity of motion
-is defined by the equality of spaces described in equal
-times, so we may conceive the uniformity of acceleration to
-exist when equal velocities are added in equal times.'
-
-Galileo's mode of supporting his opinion, that bodies
-falling by the action of gravity are thus uniformly {244}
-accelerated, consists, in the first place, in adducing the
-maxim that nature always employs the most simple
-means[26\3]. But he is far from considering this a decisive
-argument. 'I,' says one of his speakers, 'as it would be
-very unreasonable in me to gainsay this or any other
-definition which any author may please to make, since they
-are all arbitrary, may still, without offence, doubt whether
-such a definition, conceived and admitted in the abstract,
-fits, agrees, and is verified in that kind of accelerated
-motion which bodies have when they descend naturally.'
-
-[Note 26\3: _Dialogo_, iii. p. 91.]
-
-The experimental proof that bodies, when they fall
-downwards, are uniformly accelerated, is (by Galileo)
-derived from the inclined plane; and therefore assumes the
-proposition, that if such uniform acceleration prevail in
-vertical motion, it will also hold when a body is compelled
-to describe an oblique rectilinear path. This proposition
-may be shown to be true, if (assuming by anticipation the
-Third Law of Motion, of which we shall shortly have to
-speak,) we introduce the conception of a uniform statical
-force as the cause of uniform acceleration. For the force on
-the inclined plane bears a constant proportion to the
-vertical force, and this proportion is known from statical
-considerations. But in the work of which we are speaking,
-Galileo does not introduce this abstract conception of force
-as the foundation of his doctrines. Instead of this, he
-proposes, as a postulate sufficiently evident to be made the
-basis of his reasonings, That bodies which descend down
-inclined planes of different inclinations, but of the same
-vertical height, all acquire the same velocity[27\3]. But
-when this postulate has been propounded by one of the
-persons of the dialogue, another interlocutor says, 'You
-discourse very probably; but besides this likelihood, I wish
-to augment the probability so far, that it shall be almost
-as complete as a necessary demonstration.' He then proceeds
-to describe a very ingenious and simple experiment, which
-shows that when a body is made to swing upwards at the end
-of {245} a string, it attains to the same height, whatever
-is the path it follows, so long as it starts from the lowest
-point with the same velocity. And thus Galileo's postulate
-is experimentally confirmed, so far as the force of gravity
-can be taken as an example of the forces which the postulate
-contemplates: and conversely, gravity is proved to be a
-uniform force, so far as it can be considered clear that the
-postulate is true of uniform forces.
-
-[Note 276\3: _Dialogo_, iii. p. 36.]
-
-When we have introduced the conception and definition of
-accelerating force, Galileo's postulate, that bodies
-descending down inclined planes of the same vertical height,
-acquire the same velocity, may, by a few steps of reasoning,
-be demonstrated to be true of uniform forces: and thus the
-proof that gravity, either in vertical or oblique motion, is
-a uniform force, is confirmed by the experiment above
-mentioned; as it also is, on like grounds, by many other
-experiments, made upon inclined planes and pendulums.
-
-Thus the propriety of Galileo's conception of a uniform
-force, and the doctrine that gravity is a uniform force,
-were confirmed by the same reasonings and experiments. We
-may make here two remarks; _First_, that the conception,
-when established and rightly stated, appears so simple as
-hardly to require experimental proof; a remark which we have
-already made with regard to the First Law of Motion: and
-_Second_, that the discovery of the real law of nature was
-made by assuming propositions which, without further proof,
-we should consider as very precarious, and as far less
-obvious, as well as less evident, than the law of nature in
-its simple form.
-
-4. _The Second Law of Motion._--When a body, instead of
-falling downwards from rest, is thrown in any direction, it
-describes a curve line, till its motion is stopped. In this,
-and in all other cases in which a body describes a curved
-path in free space, its motion is determined by the Second
-Law of Motion. The law, in its general form, is as
-follows:--When a body is thus cast forth and acted upon by a
-force in a direction {246} transverse to its motion, the
-result is, That _there is combined with the motion with
-which the body is thrown, another motion, exactly the same
-as that which the same force would have communicated to a
-body at rest_.
-
-It will readily be understood that the basis of this law is
-the axiom already stated, that effects are measured by their
-causes. In virtue of this axiom, the effect of gravity
-acting upon a body in a direction transverse to its motion,
-must measure the accelerative or deflective force of gravity
-under those circumstances. If this effect vary with the
-varying velocity and direction of the body thus acted upon,
-the deflective force of gravity also will vary with those
-circumstances. The more simple supposition is, that the
-deflective force of gravity is the same, whatever be the
-velocity and direction of the body which is subjected to its
-influence: and this is the supposition which we find to be
-verified by facts. For example, a ball let fall from the top
-of a ship's upright mast, when she is sailing steadily
-forward, will fall at the foot of the mast, just as if it
-were let fall while the ship were at rest; thus showing that
-the motion which gravity gives to the ball is compounded
-with the horizontal motion which the ball shares with the
-ship from the first. This general and simple conception of
-motions as _compounded_ with one another, represents, it is
-proved, the manner in which the motion produced by gravity
-modifies any other motion which the body may previously have had.
-
-The discussions which terminated in the general reception of
-this Second Law of Motion among mechanical writers, were
-much mixed up with the arguments for and against the
-Copernican system, which system represented the earth as
-revolving upon its axis. For the obvious argument against
-this system was, that if each point of the earth's surface
-were thus in motion from west to east, a stone dropt from
-the top of a tower would be left behind, the tower moving
-away from it: and the answer was, that by this law of
-motion, the stone would have the earth's motion impressed
-upon it, as well as that motion which would {247} arise from
-its gravity to the earth; and that the motion of the stone
-relative to the tower would thus be the same as if both
-earth and tower were at rest. Galileo further urged, as a
-presumption in favour of the opinion that the two
-motions,--the circular motion arising from the rotation of
-the earth, and the downward motion arising from the gravity
-of the stone, would be compounded in the way we have
-described, (neither of them disturbing or diminishing the
-other,)--that the first motion was in its own nature not
-liable to any change or diminution[28\3], as we learn from
-the First Law of Motion. Nor was the subject lightly
-dismissed. The experiment of the stone let fall from the top
-of the mast was made in various forms by Gassendi; and in
-his Epistle, _De Motu impresso a Motore translato_, the rule
-now in question is supported by reference to these
-experiments. In this manner, the general truth, the Second
-Law of Motion, was established completely and beyond
-dispute.
-
-[Note 28\3: _Dialogo_, ii. p. 114.]
-
-But when this law had been proved to be true in a general
-sense, with such accuracy as rude experiments, like those of
-Galileo and Gassendi, would admit, it still remained to be
-ascertained (supposing our knowledge of the law to be the
-result of experience alone,) whether it were true with that
-precise and rigorous exactness which more refined modes of
-experimenting could test. We so willingly believe in the
-simplicity of laws of nature, that the rigorous accuracy of
-such a law, known to be at least approximately true, was
-taken for granted, till some ground for suspecting the
-contrary should appear. Yet calculations have not been
-wanting which might confirm the law as true to the last
-degree of accuracy. Laplace relates (_Syst. du Monde_, livre
-iv. chap. 16,) that at one time he had conceived it possible
-that the effect of gravity upon the moon might be slightly
-modified by the moon's direction and velocity; and that in
-this way an explanation might be found for the moon's
-_acceleration_ (a deviation of her observed from her
-calculated place, which long {248} perplexed
-mathematicians). But it was after some time discovered that
-this feature in the moon's motion arose from another cause;
-and the second law of motion was confirmed as true in the
-most rigorous sense.
-
-Thus we see that although there were arguments which might
-be urged in favour of this law, founded upon the necessary
-relations of ideas, men became convinced of its truth only
-when it was verified and confirmed by actual experiment. But
-yet in this case again, as in the former ones, when the law
-had been established beyond doubt or question, men were very
-ready to believe that it was not a mere result of
-observation,--that the truth which it contained was not
-derived from experience,--that it might have been assumed as
-true in virtue of reasonings anterior to experience,--and
-that experiments served only to make the law more plain and
-intelligible, as visible diagrams in geometry serve to
-illustrate geometrical truths; our knowledge not being (they
-deemed) in mechanics, any more than in geometry, borrowed
-from the senses. It was thought by many to be self-evident,
-that the effect of a force in any direction cannot be
-increased or diminished by any motion transverse to the
-direction of the force which the body may have at the same
-time: or, to express it otherwise, that if the motion of the
-body be compounded of a horizontal and vertical motion, the
-vertical motion alone will be affected by the vertical
-force. This principle, indeed, not only has appeared evident
-to many persons, but even at the present day is assumed as
-an axiom by many of the most eminent mathematicians. It is,
-for example, so employed in the _Mécanique Céleste_ of
-Laplace, which may be looked upon as the standard of
-mathematical mechanics in our time; and in the _Mécanique
-Analytique_ of Lagrange, the most consummate example which
-has appeared of subtilty of thought on such subjects, as
-well as of power of mathematical generalization[29\3]. And
-{249} thus we have here another example of that circumstance
-which we have already noticed in speaking of the First Law
-of Motion, (Art. 2 of this chapter,) and of the Law that
-Gravity is a uniform Force, (Art. 3); namely, that the law,
-though historically established by experiments, appears,
-when once discovered and reduced to its most simple and
-general form, to be self-evident. I am the more desirous of
-drawing attention to this feature in various portions of the
-history of science, inasmuch as it will be found to lead to
-some very extensive and important views, hereafter to be
-considered.
-
-[Note 29\3: I may observe that the rule that we may
-_compound_ motions, as the Law supposes, is involved in the
-step of _resolving_ them; which is done in the passage to
-which I refer. (_Méc. Analyt._ ptie. i. sect. i. art. 3. p.
-225.) 'Si on conçoit que le mouvement d'un corps et les
-forces qui le sollicitent soient _decomposées_ suivant trois
-lignes droites perpendiculaires entre elles, on pourra
-considérer séparément les mouvemens et les forces relatives
-à chacun de ces trois directions. Car à cause de la
-perpendicularité des directions il est visible que chacun de
-ces mouvemens partiels peut être regardé comme indépendant
-des deux autres, et qu'il ne peut recevoir d'altération que
-de la part de la force qui agit dans la direction de ce
-mouvement; l'on peut conclure que ces trois mouvemens
-doivent suivre, chacun en particulier, les lois des
-mouvemens rectilignes accélérés ou retardés par les forces
-données.' Laplace makes the same assumption in effect,
-(_Méc. Cél._ p. i. liv. i. art. 7), by resolving the forces
-which act upon a point in three rectangular directions, and
-reasoning separately concerning each direction. But in his
-mode of treating the subject is involved a principle which
-belongs to the Third Law of Motion, namely, the doctrine
-that the velocity is as the force, of which we shall have to
-speak elsewhere.]
-
-5. _The Third Law of Motion._--We have, in the definition of
-Accelerating Force, a measure of Forces, so far as they are
-concerned in producing motion. We had before, in speaking of
-the principles of statics, defined the measure of Forces or
-Pressures, so far as they are employed in producing
-equilibrium. But these two aspects of Force are closely
-connected; and we require a law which shall lay down the
-rule of their connexion. By the same kind of muscular
-exertion by which we can support a heavy stone, we can also
-put it in motion. The question then occurs, how is the rate
-and manner of its motion determined? The answer to this
-question is contained in the Third Law {250} of Motion, and
-it is to this effect: that the _Momentum_ which any pressure
-produces in the mass in a given time is proportional to the
-pressure. By _Momentum_ is meant the product of the numbers
-which express the velocity and the mass of the body: and
-hence, if the mass of the body be the same in the instances
-which we compare, the rule is,--That _the velocity is as the
-force which produces it_; and this is one of the simplest
-ways of expressing the Third Law of Motion.
-
-In agreement with our general plan, we have to ask, What is
-the ground of this rule? What is the simplest and most
-satisfactory form to which we can reduce the proof of it?
-Or, to take an instance; if a double pressure be exerted
-against a given mass, so disposed as to be capable of
-motion, why must it produce twice the velocity in the same time?
-
-To answer this question, suppose the double pressure to be
-resolved into two single pressures: one of these will
-produce a certain velocity; and the question is, why an
-equal pressure, acting upon the same mass, will produce an
-equal velocity _in addition_ to the former? Or, stating the
-matter otherwise, the question is, why each of the two
-forces will produce its separate effect, unaltered by the
-simultaneous action of the other force?
-
-This statement of the case makes it seem to approach very
-near to such cases as are included in the Second Law of
-Motion, and therefore it might appear that this Third Law
-has no grounds distinct from the Second. But it must be
-recollected that the word _force_ has a different meaning in
-this case and in that; in this place it signifies
-_pressure_; in the statement of the Second Law its import
-was _accelerative_ or _deflective force_, measured by the
-velocity or deflexion generated. And thus the Third Law of
-Motion, so far as our reasonings yet go, appears to rest on
-a foundation different from the Second.
-
-Accordingly, that part of the Third Law of Motion which we
-are now considering, that the velocity generated is as the
-force, was obtained, in fact, by a separate train of
-research. The first exemplification of this {251} law which
-was studied by mathematicians, was the motion of bodies upon
-inclined planes: for the force which urges a body down an
-inclined plane is known by statics, and hence the velocity
-of its descent was to be determined. Galileo
-originally[30\3] in his attempts to solve this problem of
-the descent of a body down an inclined plane, did not
-proceed from the principle which we have stated, (the
-determination of the force which acts down the inclined
-plane from statical considerations,) obvious as it may seem;
-but assumed, as we have already seen, a proposition
-apparently far more precarious;--namely, that a body sliding
-down a smooth inclined plane acquires always the same
-velocity, so long as the _vertical_ height fallen through is
-the same. And this conjecture (for at first it was nothing
-more than a conjecture) he confirmed by an ingenious
-experiment; in which bodies acquired or lost the same
-velocity by descending or ascending through the same height,
-although their paths were different in other respects.
-
-[Note 30\3: _Dial. della Sc. Nuov._ iii. p. 96. See _Hist.
-Ind. Sci._ b. vi. c. ii. sect. 5.]
-
-This was the form in which the doctrine of the motion of
-bodies down inclined planes was at first presented in
-Galileo's _Dialogues_ on the Science of Motion. But his
-disciple Viviani was dissatisfied with the assumption thus
-introduced; and in succeeding editions of the _Dialogues_,
-the apparent chasm in the reasoning was much narrowed, by
-making the proof depend upon a principle nearly identical
-with the third law of motion as we have just stated it. In
-the proof thus added, 'We are agreed,' says the
-interlocutor[31\3], 'that in a moving body the impetus,
-energy, momentum, or propension to motion, is as great as is
-the force or least resistance which suffices to sustain it;'
-and the impetus or momentum, in the course of the proof,
-being taken to be as the velocity produced in a given time,
-it is manifest that the principle so stated amounts to this;
-that the velocity produced is as the statical force. And
-thus this law of motion appears, {252} in the school of
-Galileo, to have been suggested and established at first by
-experiment, but afterwards confirmed and demonstrated by _à
-priori_ considerations.
-
-[Note 31\3: _Dialogo_, p. 104.]
-
-We see, in the above reasoning, a number of abstract terms
-introduced which are not, at first at least, very distinctly
-defined, as _impetus_, _momentum_, &c. Of these, _momentum_
-has been selected, to express that quantity which, in a
-moving body, measures the statical force impressed upon the
-body. This quantity is, as we have just seen, proportional
-to the velocity in a given body. It is also, in different
-bodies, proportional to the mass of the body. This part of
-the third law of motion follows from our conception of
-matter in general as consisting of parts capable of
-addition. A double pressure must be required to produce the
-same velocity in a double mass; for if the mass be halved,
-each half will require an equal pressure; and the addition,
-both of the pressures and of the masses, will take place
-without disturbing the effects.
-
-The measure of the quantity of matter of a body considered
-as affecting the velocity which pressure produces in the
-body, is termed its _inertia_, as we have already stated (c.
-v.). Inertia is the property by which a large mass of matter
-requires a greater force than a small mass, to give it an
-equal velocity. It belongs to each portion of matter; and
-portions of inertia are added whenever portions of matter
-are added. Hence _inertia is as the quantity of matter_;
-which is only another way of expressing this third law of
-motion, so far as quantity of matter is concerned.
-
-But how do we know the quantity of matter of a body? We may
-reply, that we take the weight as the measure of the
-quantity of matter: but we may then be again asked, how it
-appears that the weight is proportional to the inertia;
-which it must be, in order that the quantity of matter may
-be proportional to both one and the other. We answer, that
-this appears to be true experimentally, because all bodies
-fall with equal velocities by gravity, when the known causes
-of difference are removed. The observations of falling {253}
-bodies, indeed, are not susceptible of much exactness: but
-experiments leading to the same result, and capable of great
-precision, were made upon pendulums by Newton; as he relates
-in his _Principia_, Book III. prop. 6. They all agreed, he
-says, with perfect accuracy: and thus the weight and the
-inertia are proportional in all cases, and therefore each
-proportional to the quantity of matter as measured by the other.
-
-The conception of inertia, as we have already seen in
-chapter V., involves the notion of action and reaction; and
-thus the laws which involve inertia depend upon the idea of
-mutual causation. The rule, that the velocity is as the
-force, depends upon the principle of causation, that the
-effect is proportional to the cause; the effect being here
-so estimated as to be consistent both with the other laws of
-motion and with experiment.
-
-But here, as in other cases, the question occurs again; Is
-experiment really requisite for the proof of this law? If we
-look to authorities, we shall be not a little embarrassed to
-decide. D'Alembert is against the necessity of experimental
-proof. 'Why,' says he[32\3], 'should we have recourse to
-this principle employed, at the present day, by everybody,
-that the force is proportional to the velocity? ... a
-principle resting solely upon this vague and obscure axiom,
-that the effect is proportional to the cause. We shall not
-examine here,' he adds, 'if this principle is necessarily
-true; we shall only avow that the proofs which have hitherto
-been adduced do not appear to us unexceptionable: nor shall
-we, with some geometers, adopt it as a purely contingent
-truth; which would be to ruin the certainty of mechanics,
-and to reduce it to be nothing more than an experimental
-science. We shall content ourselves with observing,' he
-proceeds, 'that certain or doubtful, clear or obscure, it is
-useless in mechanics, and consequently ought to be banished
-from the science.' Though D'Alembert rejects the third law
-of motion in this form, he accepts one of {254} equivalent
-import, which appears to him to possess axiomatic certainty;
-and this procedure is in consistence with the course which
-he takes, of claiming for the science of mechanics more than
-mere experimental truth. On the contrary, Laplace considers
-this third law as established by experiment. 'Is the force,'
-he says'[33\3], 'proportioned to the velocity? This,' he
-replies, 'we cannot know _à priori_, seeing that we are in
-ignorance of the nature of moving force: we must therefore,
-for this purpose, recur to experience; for all which is not
-a necessary consequence of the few data we have respecting
-the nature of things, is, for us, only a result of
-observation.' And again he says[34\3], 'Here, then, we have
-two laws of motion,--the law of inertia [the first law of
-motion], and the law of the force proportional to the
-velocity,--which are given by observation. They are the most
-natural and the most simple laws which we can imagine, and
-without doubt they flow from the very nature of matter; but
-this nature being unknown, they are, for us, only observed
-facts: the only ones, however, which Mechanics borrows from
-experience.'
-
-[Note 32\3: _Dynamique_, Pref. p. x.]
-
-[Note 33\3: _Méc. Cél._ p. 15.]
-
-[Note 34\3: p. 18.]
-
-It will appear, I think, from the views given in this and
-several other parts of the present work, that we cannot with
-justice say that we have very 'few data respecting the
-nature of things,' in speculating concerning the laws of the
-universe; since all the consequences which flow from the
-relations of our fundamental ideas, necessarily regulate our
-knowledge of things, so far as we have any such knowledge.
-Nor can we say that the nature of matter is unknown to us,
-in any sense in which we can conceive knowledge as possible.
-The nature of matter is no more unknown than the nature of
-space or of number. In our conception of matter, as of space
-and of number, are involved certain relations, which are the
-necessary groundwork of our knowledge; and anything which is
-independent of these relations, is not unknown, but
-inconceivable. {255}
-
-It must be already clear to the reader, from the phraseology
-employed by these two eminent mathematicians, that the
-question respecting the formation of the third law of motion
-can only be solved by a careful consideration of what we
-mean by observation and experience, nature and matter. But
-it will probably be generally allowed, that, taking into
-account the explanations already offered of the necessary
-conditions of experience and of the conception of inertia,
-this law of motion, that the inertia is as the quantity of
-matter, is almost or altogether self-evident.
-
-6. _Action and Reaction are Equal in Moving Bodies._--When
-we have to consider bodies as acting upon one another, and
-influencing each other's motions, the third law of motion is
-still applied; but along with this, we also employ the
-general principle that action and reaction are equal and
-opposite. Action and reaction are here to be understood as
-momentum produced and destroyed, according to the measure of
-action established by the Third Law of Motion: and the cases
-in which this principle is thus employed form so large a
-portion of those in which the third law of motion is used,
-that some writers (Newton at the head of them) have
-stated the equality of action and reaction as the third law
-of motion.
-
-The third law of motion being once established, the equality
-of action and reaction, in the sense of momentum gained and
-lost, necessarily follows. Thus, if a weight hanging by a
-string over the edge of a smooth level table draw another
-weight along the table, the hanging weight moves more slowly
-than it would do if not so connected, and thus loses
-velocity by the connexion; while the other weight gains by
-the connexion all the velocity which it has, for if left to
-itself it would rest. And the pressures which restrain the
-descent of the first body and accelerate the motion of the
-second, are equal at all instants of time, for each of these
-pressures is the tension of the string: and hence, by the
-third law of motion, the momentum gained by the one body,
-and the momentum lost by the other in virtue of the action
-of this string, are equal. And similar {256} reasoning may
-be employed in any other case where bodies are connected.
-
-The case where one body does not push or draw, but _strikes_
-another, appeared at first to mechanical reasoners to be of
-a different nature from the others; but a little
-consideration was sufficient to show that a blow is, in
-fact, only a short and violent pressure; and that,
-therefore, the general rule of the equality of momentum lost
-and gained applies to this as well as to the other cases.
-
-Thus, in order to determine the case of the direct action of
-bodies upon one another, we require no new law of motion.
-The equality of action and reaction, which enters
-necessarily into every conception of mechanical operation,
-combined with the measure of action as given by the third
-law of motion, enables us to trace the consequences of every
-case, whether of pressure or of impact.
-
-7. _D'Alembert's Principle._--But what will be the result
-when bodies do not act directly upon each other, but are
-_indirectly_ connected in any way by levers, strings,
-pulleys, or in any other manner, so that one part of the
-system has a mechanical advantage over another? The result
-must still be determined by the principle that action and
-reaction balance each other. The action and reaction, being
-pressures in one sense, must balance each other by the laws
-of statics, for these laws determine the equilibrium of
-pressure. Now action and reaction, according to their
-measures in the Third Law of Motion, are momentum gained and
-lost, when the action is direct; and except the indirect
-action introduce some modification of the law, they must
-have the same measure still. But, in fact, we cannot well
-conceive any modification of the law to take place in this
-case; for direct action is only one (the ultimate) case of
-indirect action. Thus if two heavy bodies act at different
-points of a lever, the action of each on the other is
-indirect; but if the two points come together, the action
-becomes direct. Hence the rule must be that which we have
-already stated; for if the rule were false for indirect
-action, it would {257} also be false for direct action, for
-which case we have shown it to be true. And thus we obtain
-the general principle, that in any system of bodies which
-act on each other, action and reaction, estimated by
-momentum gained and lost, balance each other according to
-the laws of equilibrium. This principle, which is so general
-as to supply a key to the solution of all possible
-mechanical problems, is commonly called _D'Alembert's
-Principle_. The experimental proofs which convinced men of
-the truth of the Third Law of Motion were, many or most of
-them, proofs of the law in this extended sense. And thus the
-proof of D'Alembert's Principle, both from the idea of
-mechanical action and from experience, is included in the
-proof of the law already stated.
-
-8. _Connexion of Dynamical and Statical Principles._--The
-principle of equilibrium of D'Alembert just stated, is the
-law which he would substitute for the Third Law of Motion;
-and he would thus remove the necessity for an independent
-proof of that law. In like manner, the Second Law of Motion
-is by some writers derived from the principle of the
-composition of statical forces; and they would thus
-supersede the necessity of a reference to experiment in that
-case. Laplace takes this course, and thus, as we have seen,
-rests only the First and Third Law of Motion upon
-experience. Newton, on the other hand, recognizes the same
-connexion of propositions, but for a different purpose; for
-he derives the composition of statical forces from the
-Second Law of Motion.
-
-The close connexion of these three principles, the
-composition of (statical) forces, the composition of
-(accelerating) forces with velocities, and the measure of
-(moving) forces by velocities, cannot be denied; yet it
-appears to be by no means easy to supersede the necessity of
-independent proofs of the last two of these principles. Both
-may be proved or illustrated by experiment: and the
-experiments which prove the one are different from those
-which establish the other. For example, it appears by easy
-calculations, that when we apply our principles to the
-oscillations of a pendulum, {258} the Second Law is proved
-by the fact, that the oscillations take place at the same
-rate in an east and west, and in a north and south
-direction: under the same circumstances, the Third Law is
-proved by our finding that the time of a small oscillation
-is proportional to the square root of the length of a
-pendulum; and similar differences might be pointed out in
-other experiments, as to their bearing upon the one law or
-the other.
-
-9. _Mechanical Principles become gradually more simple and
-more evident._--I will again point out in general two
-circumstances which I have already noticed in particular
-cases of the laws of motion.--Truths are often at first
-assumed in a form which is far from being the most obvious
-or simple;--and truths once discovered are gradually
-simplified, so as to assume the appearance of self-evident
-truths.
-
-The former circumstance is exemplified in several of the
-instances which we have had to consider. The assumption,
-that a perpetual motion is impossible, preceded the
-knowledge of the first law of motion. The assumed equality
-of the velocities acquired down two inclined planes of the
-same height, was afterwards reduced to the third law of
-motion by Galileo himself. In the History[35\3], we have
-noted Huyghens's assumption of the equality of the actual
-descent and potential ascent of the center of gravity: this
-was afterwards reduced by Herman and the Bernoullis, to the
-statical equivalence of the solicitations of gravity and the
-vicarious solicitations of the effective forces which act on
-each point; and finally to the principle of D'Alembert,
-which asserts that the motions gained and lost balance each
-other.
-
-[Note 35\3: B. vi. c. v. sect. 2.]
-
-This early assertion of principles which now appear neither
-obvious nor self-evident, is not to be considered as a
-groundless assumption on the part of the discoverers by whom
-it was made. On the contrary, it is evidence of the deep
-sagacity and clear thought which were {259} requisite in
-order to make such discoveries. For these results are really
-rigorous consequences of the laws of motion in their
-simplest form: and the evidence of them was probably
-present, though undeveloped, in the minds of the
-discoverers. We are told of geometrical students, who, by a
-peculiar aptitude of mind, perceived the evidence of some of
-the more advanced propositions of geometry without going
-through the introductory steps. We must suppose a similar
-aptitude for mechanical reasonings, which, existing in the
-minds of Stevinus, Galileo, Newton, and Huyghens, led them
-to make those assumptions which finally resolved themselves
-into the laws of motion.
-
-We may observe further, that the simplicity and evidence
-which the laws of mechanics have at length assumed, are much
-favoured by the usage of words among the best writers on
-such subjects. Terms which originally, and before the laws
-of motion were fully known, were used in a very vague and
-fluctuating sense, were afterwards limited and rendered
-precise, so that assertions which at first appear identical
-propositions become distinct and important principles. Thus
-_force_, _motion_, _momentum_, are terms which were
-employed, though in a loose manner, from the very outset of
-mechanical speculation. And so long as these words retained
-the vagueness of common language, it would have been a
-useless and barren truism to say that 'the momentum is
-proportional to the force,' or that 'a body loses as much
-motion as it communicates to another.' But when 'momentum'
-and 'quantity of motion' are defined to mean the product of
-mass and velocity, these two propositions immediately become
-distinct statements of the third law of motion and its
-consequences. In like manner, the assertion that 'gravity is
-a uniform force' was assented to, before it was settled what
-a uniform force was; but this assertion only became
-significant and useful when that point had been properly
-determined. The statement that 'when different motions are
-communicated to the same body their effects are {260}
-compounded,' becomes the second law of motion, when we
-define what composition of motions is. And the same process
-may be observed in other cases.
-
-And thus we see how well the form which science ultimately
-assumes is adapted to simplify knowledge. The definitions
-which are adopted, and the terms which become current in
-precise senses, produce a complete harmony between the
-matter and the form of our knowledge; so that truths which
-were at first unexpected and recondite, became familiar
-phrases, and after a few generations sound, even to common
-ears, like identical propositions.
-
-10. _Controversy of the Measure of Force._--In the History
-of Mechanics[36\3], we have given an account of the
-controversy which, for some time, occupied the
-mathematicians of Europe, whether the forces of bodies in
-motion should be reckoned proportional to the velocity, or
-to the square of the velocity. We need not here recall the
-events of this dispute; but we may remark, that its history,
-as a metaphysical controversy, is remarkable in this
-respect, that it has been finally and completely settled;
-for it is now agreed among mathematicians that both sides
-were right, and that the results of mechanical action may be
-expressed with equal correctness by means of _momentum_ and
-of _vis viva_. It is, in one sense, as D'Alembert has
-said[37\3], a dispute about words; but we are not to infer
-that, on that account, it was frivolous or useless; for such
-disputes are one principal means of reducing the principles
-of our {261} knowledge to their utmost simplicity and
-clearness. The terms which are employed in the science of
-mechanics are now liberated for ever, in the minds of
-mathematicians, from that ambiguity which was the
-battleground in the war of the _vis viva_.
-
-[Note 36\3: B. vi. c. v. sect. 2.]
-
-[Note 37\3: D'Alembert has also remarked (_Dynamique_, Pref.
-xxi.) that this controversy 'shows how little justice and
-precision there is in the pretended axiom that causes are
-proportional to their effects.' But this reflection is by no
-means well founded. For since both measures are true, it
-appears that causes may be _justly_ measured by their
-effects, even when very different kinds of effects are
-taken. That the axiom does not point out one _precise_
-measure, till illustrated by experience or by other
-considerations, we grant: but the same thing occurs in the
-application of other axioms also.]
-
-But we may observe that the real reason of this controversy
-was exactly that tendency which we have been noticing;--the
-disposition of man to assume in his speculations certain
-general propositions as true, and to fix the sense of terms
-so that they shall fall in with this truth. It was agreed,
-on all hands, that in the mutual action of bodies the same
-quantity of force is always preserved; and the question was,
-by which of the two measures this rule could best be
-verified. We see, therefore, that the dispute was not
-concerning a definition merely, but concerning a definition
-combined with a general proposition. Such a question may be
-readily conceived to have been by no means unimportant; and
-we may remark, in passing, that such controversies, although
-they are commonly afterwards stigmatized as quarrels about
-words and definitions, are, in reality, events of
-considerable consequence in the history of science; since
-they dissipate all ambiguity and vagueness in the use of
-terms, and bring into view the conditions under which the
-fundamental principles of our knowledge can be most clearly
-and simply presented.
-
-It is worth our while to pause for a moment on the prospect
-that we have thus obtained, of the advance of knowledge, as
-exemplified in the history of Mechanics. The general
-transformation of our views from vague to definite, from
-complex to simple, from unexpected discoveries to
-self-evident truths, from seeming contradictions to
-identical propositions, is very remarkable, but it is by no
-means peculiar to our subject. The same circumstances, more
-or less prominent, more or less developed, appear in the
-history of other sciences, according to the point of advance
-which each has reached. They bear upon very important
-doctrines respecting the prospects, the {262} limits, and
-the very nature of our knowledge. And though these doctrines
-require to be considered with reference to the whole body of
-science, yet the peculiar manner in which they are
-illustrated by the survey of the history of Mechanics, on
-which we have just been engaged, appears to make this a
-convenient place for introducing them to the reader.
-
-
-
-{{263}}
-CHAPTER VIII.
-
-OF THE PARADOX OF UNIVERSAL PROPOSITIONS OBTAINED FROM
-EXPERIENCE.
-
-
-1. IT was formerly stated[38\3] that experience cannot
-establish any universal or necessary truths. The number of
-trials which we can make of any proposition is necessarily
-limited, and observation alone cannot give us any ground of
-extending the inference to untried cases. Observed facts
-have no visible bond of necessary connexion, and no exercise
-of our senses can enable us to discover such connexion. We
-can never acquire from a mere observation of facts, the
-right to assert that a proposition is true in all cases, and
-that it could not be otherwise than we find it to be.
-
-[Note 38\3: B. i. c. iv. Of Experience]
-
-Yet, as we have just seen in the history of the laws of
-motion, we may go on collecting our knowledge from
-observation, and enlarging and simplifying it, till it
-approaches or attains to complete universality and seeming
-necessity. Whether the laws of motion, as we now know them,
-can be rigorously traced to an absolute necessity in the
-nature of things, we have not ventured absolutely to
-pronounce. But we have seen that some of the most acute and
-profound mathematicians have believed that, for these laws
-of motion, or some of them, there was such a demonstrable
-necessity compelling them to be such as they are, and no
-other. Most of those who have carefully studied the
-principles of Mechanics will allow that some at least of the
-primary laws of motion approach very near to this character
-of necessary truth; and will confess that it would be
-difficult to imagine any other consistent {264} scheme of
-fundamental principles. And almost all mathematicians will
-allow to these laws an absolute universality; so that we may
-apply them without scruple or misgiving, in cases the most
-remote from those to which our experience has extended. What
-astronomer would fear to refer to the known laws of motion,
-in reasoning concerning the double stars; although these
-objects are at an immeasurably remote distance from that
-solar system which has been the only field of our
-observation of mechanical facts? What philosopher, in
-speculating respecting a magnetic fluid, or a luminiferous
-ether, would hesitate to apply to it the mechanical
-principles which are applicable to fluids of known
-mechanical properties? When we assert that the quantity of
-motion in the world cannot be increased or diminished by the
-mutual actions of bodies, does not every mathematician feel
-convinced that it would be an unphilosophical restriction to
-limit this proposition to such modes of action as we have tried?
-
-Yet no one can doubt that, in historical fact, these laws
-were collected from experience. That such is the case, is no
-matter of conjecture. We know the time, the persons, the
-circumstances, belonging to each step of each discovery. I
-have, in the History, given an account of these discoveries;
-and in the previous chapters of the present work, I have
-further examined the nature and the import of the principles
-which were thus brought to light.
-
-Here, then, is an apparent contradiction. Experience, it
-would seem, has done that which we had proved that she
-cannot do. She has led men to propositions, universal at
-least, and to principles which appear to some persons
-necessary. What is the explanation of this contradiction,
-the solution of this paradox? Is it true that Experience can
-reveal to us universal and necessary truths? Does she
-possess some secret virtue, some unsuspected power, by which
-she can detect connexions and consequences which we have
-declared to be out of her sphere? Can she see more than mere
-appearances, and observe more than mere facts? Can {265} she
-penetrate, in some way, to the nature of things?--descend
-below the surface of phenomena to their causes and origins,
-so as to be able to say what can and what can not be;--what
-occurrences are partial, and what universal? If this be so,
-we have indeed mistaken her character and powers; and the
-whole course of our reasoning becomes precarious and
-obscure. But, then, when we return upon our path we cannot
-find the point at which we deviated, we cannot detect the
-false step in our deduction. It still seems that by
-experience, strictly so called, we cannot discover necessary
-and universal truths. Our senses can give us no evidence of
-a necessary connexion in phenomena. Our observation must be
-limited, and cannot testify concerning anything which is
-beyond its limits. A general view of our faculties appears
-to prove it to be impossible that men should do what the
-history of the science of mechanics shows that they have done.
-
-2. But in order to try to solve this Paradox, let us again
-refer to the History of Mechanics. In the cases belonging to
-that science, in which propositions of the most
-unquestionable universality, and most approaching to the
-character of necessary truths, (as, for instance, the laws
-of motion,) have been arrived at, what is the source of the
-axiomatic character which the propositions thus assume? The
-answer to this question will, we may hope, throw some light
-on the perplexity in which we appear to be involved.
-
-Now the answer to this inquiry is, that the laws of motion
-borrow their axiomatic character from their being merely
-_interpretations_ of the Axioms of Causation. Those axioms,
-being exhibitions of the Idea of Cause under various
-aspects, are of the most rigorous universality and
-necessity. And so far as the laws of motion are
-exemplifications of those axioms, these laws must be no less
-universal and necessary. How these axioms are to be
-understood;--in what sense _cause_ and _effect_, _action_
-and _reaction_, are to be taken, experience and observation
-did, in fact, teach inquirers on this subject; and without
-this teaching, the laws of motion could never have been
-distinctly known. If two forces {266} act together, each
-must produce its effect, by the axiom of causation; and,
-therefore, the effects of the separate forces must be
-_compounded_. But a long course of discussion and experiment
-must instruct men of what kind this _composition_ of forces
-is. Again; action and reaction must be equal; but much
-thought and some trial were needed to show what _action_ and
-_reaction_ are. Those metaphysicians who enunciated Laws of
-motion without reference to experience, propounded only such
-laws as were vague and inapplicable. But yet these persons
-manifested the indestructible conviction, belonging to man's
-speculative nature, that there exist Laws of motion, that
-is, universal formulæ, connecting the causes and effects
-when motion takes place. Those mechanicians, again, who,
-observed facts involving equilibrium and motion, and stated
-some narrow rules, without attempting to ascend to any
-universal and simple principle, obtained laws no less barren
-and useless than the metaphysicians; for they could not tell
-in what new cases, or whether in any, their laws would be
-verified;--they needed a more general rule, to show them the
-limits of the rule they had discovered. They went wrong in
-each attempt to solve a new problem, because their
-interpretation of the terms of the axioms, though true,
-perhaps, in certain cases, was not right in general.
-
-Thus Pappus erred in attempting to interpret as a case of
-the lever, the problem of supporting a weight upon an
-inclined plane; thus Aristotle erred in interpreting the
-doctrine that the weight of bodies is the cause of their
-fall; thus Kepler erred in interpreting the rule that the
-velocity of bodies depends upon the force; thus
-Bernoulli[39\3] erred in interpreting the equality of action
-and reaction upon a lever in motion. In each of these
-instances, true doctrines, already established, (whether by
-experiment or otherwise,) were erroneously applied. And the
-error was corrected by further reflection, which pointed out
-that another mode of interpretation was requisite, in order
-that the axiom {267} which, was appealed to in each case
-might retain its force in the most general sense. And in the
-reasonings which avoided or corrected such errors, and which
-led to substantial general truths, the object of the
-speculator always was to give to the acknowledged maxims
-which the Idea of Cause suggested, such a signification as
-should be consistent with their universal validity. The rule
-was not accepted as particular at the outset, and afterwards
-generalized more and more widely; but from the very first,
-the universality of the rule was assumed, and the question
-was, how it should be understood so as to be universally
-true. At every stage of speculation, the law was regarded as
-a general law. This was not an aspect which it gradually
-acquired, by the accumulating contributions of experience,
-but a feature of its original and native character. _What_
-should happen universally, experience might be needed to
-show: but that what happened should happen _universally_,
-was implied in the nature of knowledge. The universality of
-the laws of motion was not gathered from experience, however
-much the laws themselves might be so.
-
-[Note 39\3: _Hist. Ind. Sc._ b. vi. c. v. sect. 2.]
-
-3. Thus we obtain the solution of our Paradox, so far as the
-case before us is concerned. The laws of motion borrow their
-_form_ from the Idea of Causation, though their _matter_ may
-be given by experience: and hence they possess a
-universality which experience cannot give. They are
-certainly and universally valid; and the only question for
-observation to decide is, how they are to be understood.
-They are like general mathematical formulæ, which are known
-to be true, even while we are ignorant what are the unknown
-quantities which they involve. It must be allowed, on the
-other hand, that so long as these formulæ are not
-interpreted by a real study of nature, they are not only
-useless but prejudicial; filling men's minds with vague
-general terms, empty maxims, and unintelligible
-abstractions, which they mistake for knowledge. Of such
-perversion of the speculative propensities of man's nature,
-the world has seen too much in all ages. Yet we must not, on
-that account, despise these forms of {268} truth, since
-without them, no general knowledge is possible. Without
-general terms, and maxims, and abstractions, we can have no
-science, no speculation; hardly, indeed, consistent thought
-or the exercise of reason. The course of real knowledge is,
-to obtain from thought and experience the right
-interpretation of our general terms, the real import of our
-maxims, the true generalizations which our abstractions
-involve.
-
-4. If it be asked, How Experience is able to teach us to
-interpret aright the general terms which the Axioms of
-Causation involve;--whence she derives the light which she
-is to throw on these general notions; the answer is
-obvious;--namely, that the relations of causation are the
-_conditions_ of Experience;--that the general notions are
-_exemplified_ in the particular cases of which she takes
-cognizance. The events which take place about us, and which
-are the objects of our observation, we cannot conceive
-otherwise than as subject to the laws of cause and effect.
-Every event must have a cause;--Every effect must be
-determined by its cause;--these maxims are true of the
-phenomena which form the materials of our experience. It is
-precisely to them, that these truths apply. It is in the
-world which we have before our eyes, that these propositions
-are universally verified; and it is therefore by the
-observation of what we see, that we must learn how these
-propositions are to be understood. Every fact, every
-experiment, is an example of these statements; and it is
-therefore by attention to and familiarity with facts and
-experiments, that we learn the signification of the
-expressions in which the statements are made; just as in any
-other case we learn the import of language by observing the
-manner in which it is applied in known cases. Experience is
-the interpreter of nature; it being understood that she is
-to make her interpretation in that comprehensive phraseology
-which is the genuine language of science.
-
-5. We may return for an instant to the objection, that
-experience cannot give us general truths, since, after any
-number of trials confirming a rule, we may for aught we can
-foresee, have one which violates the {269} rule. When we
-have seen a thousand stones fall to the ground, we may see
-one which does not fall under the same apparent
-circumstances. How then, it is asked, can experience teach
-us that _all_ stones, rigorously speaking, will fall if
-unsupported? And to this we reply, that it is not true that
-we can conceive one stone to be suspended in the air, while
-a thousand others fall, without believing some peculiar
-cause to support it; and that, therefore, such a supposition
-forms no exception to the law, that gravity is a force by
-which _all_ bodies are urged downwards. Undoubtedly we can
-conceive a body, when dropt or thrown, to move in a line
-quite different from other bodies: thus a certain
-missile[40\3] used by the natives of Australia, and lately
-brought to this country, when thrown from the hand in a
-proper manner, describes a curve, and returns to the place
-from whence it was thrown. But did any one, therefore, even
-for an instant suppose that the laws of motion are different
-for this and for other bodies? On the contrary, was not
-every person of a speculative turn immediately led to
-inquire how it was that the known causes which modify
-motion, the resistance of the air and the other causes,
-produced in this instance so peculiar an effect? And if the
-motion had been still more unaccountable, it would not have
-occasioned any uncertainty whether it were consistent with
-the agency of gravity and the laws of motion. If a body
-suddenly alter its direction, or move in any other
-unexpected manner, we never doubt that there is a cause of
-the change. We may continue quite ignorant of the nature of
-this cause, but this ignorance never occasions a moment's
-doubt that the cause exists and is exactly suited to the
-effect. And thus experience can prove or discover to us
-general rules, but she can never prove that general rules do
-not exist. Anomalies, exceptions, unexplained phenomena, may
-remind us that we have much still to learn, but they can
-never make us suppose that truths are not universal. We may
-observe facts that show us we have not fully {270}
-understood the meaning of our general laws, but we can never
-find facts which show our laws to have no meaning. Our
-experience is bound in by the limits of cause and effect,
-and can give us no information concerning any region where
-that relation does not prevail. The whole series of external
-occurrences and objects, through all time and space, exists
-only, and is conceived only, as subject to this relation;
-and therefore we endeavour in vain to imagine to ourselves
-when and where and how exceptions to this relation may
-occur. The assumption of the connexion of cause and effect
-is essential to our experience, as the recognition of the
-maxims which express this connexion is essential to our
-knowledge.
-
-[Note 40\3: Called the Bo-me-rang.]
-
-6. I have thus endeavoured to explain in some measure how,
-at least in the field of our mechanical knowledge,
-experience can discover universal truths, though she cannot
-give them their universality; and how such truths, though
-borrowing their form from our ideas, cannot be understood
-except by the actual study of external nature. And thus with
-regard to the laws of motion, and other fundamental
-principles of Mechanics, the analysis of our ideas and the
-history of the progress of the science well illustrate each
-other.
-
-If the paradox of the discovery of universal truths by
-experience be thus solved in one instance, a much wider
-question offers itself to us;--How far the difficulty, and
-how far the solution, are applicable to other subjects. It
-is easy to see that this question involves most grave and
-extensive doctrines with regard to the whole compass of
-human knowledge: and the views to which we have been led in
-the present Book of this work are, we trust, fitted to throw
-much light upon the general aspect of the subject. But after
-discussions so abstract, and perhaps obscure, as those in
-which we have been engaged for some chapters, I willingly
-postpone to a future occasion an investigation which may
-perhaps appear to most readers more recondite and difficult
-still. And we have, in fact, many other special fields of
-knowledge to survey, before we are led by the order of our
-subject, to {271} those general questions and doctrines,
-those antitheses brought into view and again resolved, which
-a view of the whole territory of human knowledge suggests,
-and by which the nature and conditions of knowledge are
-exhibited.
-
-Before we quit the subject of mechanical science we shall
-make a few remarks on another doctrine which forms part of
-the established truths of the science, namely, the doctrine
-of universal gravitation.
-
-
-
-{{272}}
-CHAPTER IX.
-
-OF THE ESTABLISHMENT OF THE LAW OF UNIVERSAL GRAVITATION.
-
-
-THE doctrine of universal gravitation is a feature of so
-much importance in the history of science that we shall not
-pass it by without a few remarks on the nature and evidence
-of the doctrine.
-
-1. To a certain extent the doctrine of the attraction of
-bodies according to the law of the inverse square of the
-distance, exhibits in its progress among men the same
-general features which we have noticed in the history of the
-laws of motion. This doctrine was maintained _à priori_ on
-the ground of its simplicity, and was asserted positively,
-even before it was clearly understood:--notwithstanding this
-anticipation, its establishment on the ground of facts was a
-task of vast labour and sagacity:--when it had been so
-established in a general way, there occurred at later
-periods, an occasional suspicion that it might be
-approximately true only:--these suspicions led to further
-researches, which showed the rule to be rigorously
-exact:--and at present there are mathematicians who
-maintain, not only that it is true, but that it is a
-necessary property of matter. A very few words on each of
-these points will suffice.
-
-2. I have shown in the _History of Science_[41\3], that the
-attraction of the sun according to the inverse square of the
-distance, had been divined by Bullialdus, Hooke, Halley, and
-others, before it was proved by Newton. Probably the reason
-which suggested this conjecture was, that gravity might be
-considered {273} as a sort of emanation; and that thus, like
-light or any other effect diffused from a center, it must
-follow the law just stated, the efficacy of the force being
-weakened in receding from the center, exactly in proportion
-to the space through which it is diffused. It cannot be
-denied that such a view appears to be strongly recommended
-by analogy.
-
-[Note 41\3: B. vii. c. i.]
-
-When it had been proved by Newton that the planets were
-really retained in their elliptical orbits by a central
-force, his calculations also showed that the above-stated
-_law_ of the force must be at least very approximately
-correct, since otherwise the aphelia of the orbits could not
-be so nearly at rest as they were. Yet when it seemed as if
-the motion of the moon's apogee could not be accounted for
-without some new supposition, the _à priori_ argument in
-favour of the inverse square did not prevent Clairaut from
-trying the hypothesis of a small term added to that which
-expressed the ancient law: but when, in order to test the
-accuracy of this hypothesis, the calculation of the motion
-of the moon's apogee was pushed to a greater degree of
-exactness than had been obtained before, it was found that
-the new term vanished of itself; and that the inverse square
-now accounted for the whole of the motion. And thus, as in
-the case of the second law of motion, the most scrupulous
-examination terminated in showing the simplest rule to be
-rigorously true.
-
-3. Similar events occurred in the history of another part of
-the law of gravitation: namely, that the attraction is
-proportional to the quantity of matter attracted. This part
-of the law may also be thus stated, That the weight of
-bodies arising from gravity is proportional to their
-inertia; and thus, that the _accelerating force_ on all
-bodies under the same circumstances is the same. Newton made
-experiments which proved this with regard to terrestrial
-bodies; for he found that, at the end of equal strings,
-balls of all substances, gold, silver, lead, glass, wood,
-&c., oscillated in equal times[42\3]. But a few years ago,
-doubts {274} arose among the German astronomers whether this
-law was rigorously true with regard to the planetary bodies.
-Some calculations appeared to prove, that the attraction of
-Jupiter as shown by the perturbations which he produces in
-the small planets Juno, Vesta, and Pallas, was different
-from the attraction which he exerts on his own satellites.
-Nor did there appear to these philosophers anything
-inconceivable in the supposition that the attraction of a
-planet might be thus _elective_. But when Mr. Airy obtained
-a more exact determination of the mass of Jupiter, as
-indicated by his effect on his satellites, it was found that
-this suspicion was unfounded; and that there was, in this
-case, no exception to the universality of the rule, that
-this cosmical attraction is in the proportion of the
-attracted mass.
-
-[Note 42\3: _Prin._ lib. iii. prop. 6.]
-
-4. Again: when it had thus been shown that a mutual
-attraction of parts, according to the law above mentioned,
-prevailed throughout the extent of the solar system, it
-might still be doubted whether the same law extended to
-other regions of the universe. It might have been perhaps
-imagined that each fixed star had its peculiar law of force.
-But the examination of the motions of double stars about
-each other, by the two Herschels and others, appears to show
-that these bodies describe ellipses as the planets do; and
-thus extends the law of the inverse squares to parts of the
-universe immeasurably distant from the whole solar system.
-
-5. Since every doubt which has been raised with regard to
-the universality and accuracy of the law of gravitation, has
-thus ended in confirming the rule, it is not surprizing that
-men's minds should have returned with additional force to
-those views which had at first represented the law as a
-necessary truth, capable of being established by reason
-alone. When it had been proved by Newton that gravity is
-really a _universal_ attribute of matter as far as we can
-learn, his pupils were not content without maintaining it to
-be an _essential_ quality. This is the doctrine held by
-Cotes in the preface to the second edition of the
-_Principia_ (1712): {275} 'Gravity,' he says, 'is a primary
-quality of bodies, as extension, mobility, and
-impenetrability are.' But Newton himself by no means went so
-far. In his second Letter to Bentley (1693), he says, 'You
-sometimes speak of gravity as essential and inherent to
-matter; pray do not ascribe that notion to me. The cause of
-gravity,' he adds, 'I do not pretend to know, and would take
-more time to consider of it.'
-
-Cotes maintains his opinion by urging, that we learn by
-_experience_ that all bodies possess gravity, and that we do
-not learn in any other way that they are extended, moveable,
-or solid. But we have already seen, that the ideas of space,
-time, and reaction, on which depend extension, mobility, and
-solidity, are not results, but conditions, of experience. We
-cannot conceive a body except as extended; we cannot
-conceive it to exert mechanical action except with some kind
-of solidity. But so far as our conceptions of body have
-hitherto been developed, we find no difficulty in conceiving
-two bodies which do not attract each other.
-
-6. Newton lays down, in the second edition of the
-_Principia_, this 'Rule of Philosophizing' (book iii.); that
-'The qualities of bodies which cannot be made more or less
-intense, and which belong to all bodies on which we are able
-to make experiments, are to be held to be qualities of all
-bodies in general.' And this Rule is cited in the sixth
-Proposition of the Third Book of the _Principia_, (Cor. 2,)
-in order to prove that gravity, proportional to the quantity
-of matter, may be asserted to be a quality of all bodies
-universally. But we may remark that a Rule of
-Philosophizing, itself of precarious authority, cannot
-authorize us in ascribing universality to an empirical
-result. Geometrical and statical properties are seen to be
-necessary, and _therefore_ universal: but Newton appears
-disposed to assert a like universality of gravity, quite
-unconnected with any necessity. It would be a very
-inadequate statement, indeed a false representation, of
-statical truth, if we were to say, that because every body
-which has hitherto been tried _has been found_ to have a
-center of gravity, we venture to assert that all bodies
-whatever {276} have a center of gravity. And if we are ever
-able to assert the absolute universality of the law of
-gravitation, we shall have to rest this truth upon the
-clearer development of our ideas of matter and force; not
-upon a Rule of Philosophizing, which, till otherwise proved,
-must be a mere rule of prudence, and which the opponent may
-refuse to admit.
-
-7. Other persons, instead of asserting gravity to be in its
-own nature essential to matter, have made hypotheses
-concerning some mechanism or other, by which this mutual
-attraction of bodies is produced[43\3]. Thus the Cartesians
-ascribed to a vortex the tendency of bodies to a center;
-Newton himself seems to have been disposed to refer this
-tendency to the elasticity of an ether; Le Sage propounded a
-curious hypothesis, in which this attraction is accounted
-for by the impulse of infinite streams of particles flowing
-constantly through the universe in all directions. In these
-speculations, the force of gravity is resolved into the
-pressure or impulse of solids or fluids. On the other hand,
-hypotheses have been propounded, in which the solidity, and
-other physical qualities of bodies, have been explained by
-representing the bodies as a collection of points, from
-which points, repulsive, as well as attractive, forces
-emanate. This view of the constitution of bodies was
-maintained and developed by Boscovich, and is hence termed
-'Boscovich's Theory:' and the discussion of it will more
-properly come under our review at a future period, when we
-speak of the question whether bodies are made up of atoms.
-But we may observe, that Newton himself appears to have
-inclined, as his followers certainly did, to this mode of
-contemplating the physical properties of bodies. In his
-Preface to the _Principia_, after speaking of the central
-forces which are exhibited in cosmical phenomena, he says:
-'Would that we could derive the other phenomena of Nature
-from mechanical principles by the same mode of reasoning.
-For many things move me {277} so that I suspect all these
-phenomena may depend upon certain forces, by which the
-particles of bodies, through causes not yet known, are
-either impelled to each other and cohere according to
-regular figures, or are repelled and recede from each other:
-which forces being unknown, philosophers have hitherto made
-their attempts upon nature in vain.'
-
-[Note 43\3: See Vince, _Observations on the Hypothesis
-respecting Gravitation_, and the Critique of that work,
-_Edinb. Rev._ vol. xiii.]
-
-8. But both these hypotheses;--that by which cohesion and
-solidity are reduced to attractive and repulsive forces, and
-that by which attraction is reduced to the impulse and
-pressure of media;--are hitherto merely modes of
-representing mechanical laws of nature; and cannot, either
-of them, be asserted as possessing any evident truth or
-peremptory authority to the exclusion of the other. This
-consideration may enable us to estimate the real weight of
-the difficulty felt in assenting to the mutual attraction of
-bodies not in contact with each other; for it is often urged
-that this attraction of bodies at a distance is an absurd
-supposition.
-
-The doctrine is often thus stigmatized, both by popular and
-by learned writers. It was long received as a maxim in
-philosophy (as Monboddo informs us[44\3]), that a body
-cannot act _where_ it is not, any more than _when_ it is
-not. But to this we reply, that time is a necessary
-condition of our conception of causation, in a different
-manner from space. The action of force can only be conceived
-as taking place in a succession of moments, in each of which
-cause and effect immediately succeed each other: and thus
-the interval of time between a cause and its remote effect
-is filled up by a continuous succession of events connected
-by the same chain of causation. But in space, there is no
-such visible necessity of continuity; the action and
-reaction may take place at a distance from each other; all
-that is necessary being that they be equal and opposite.
-
-[Note 44\3: _Ancient Metaphysics_, vol. ii. p. 175.]
-
-Undoubtedly the existence of attraction is rendered more
-acceptable to common apprehension by supposing {278} some
-intermediate machinery,--a cord, or rod, or fluid,--by which
-the forces may be conveyed from one point to another. But
-such images are rather fitted to satisfy those prejudices
-which arise from the earlier application of our ideas of
-force, than to exhibit the real nature of those ideas. If we
-suppose two bodies to pull each other by means of a rod or
-cord, we only suppose, in addition to those equal and
-opposite forces acting upon the two bodies, (which forces
-are alone essential to mutual attraction) a certain power of
-resisting transverse pressure at every point of the
-intermediate line: which additional supposition is entirely
-useless, and quite unconnected with the essential conditions
-of the case. When the Newtonians were accused of introducing
-into philosophy an unknown cause which they termed
-_attraction_, they justly replied that they knew as much
-respecting attraction as their opponents did about impulse.
-In each case we have a knowledge of the conception in
-question so far as we clearly apprehend it under the
-conditions of those axioms of mechanical causation which
-form the basis of our science on such subjects.
-
-Having thus examined the degree of certainty and generality
-to which our knowledge of the law of universal gravitation
-has been carried, by the progress of mechanical discovery
-and speculation up to the present time, we might proceed to
-the other branches of science, and examine in like manner
-their grounds and conditions. But before we do this, it will
-be worth our while to attend for a moment to the effect
-which the progress of mechanical ideas among mathematicians
-and mechanical philosophers has produced upon the minds of
-other persons, who share only in an indirect and derivative
-manner in the influence of science.
-
-
-
-{{279}}
-CHAPTER X.
-
-OF THE GENERAL DIFFUSION OF CLEAR MECHANICAL IDEAS.
-
-
-1. WE have seen how the progress of knowledge upon the
-subject of motion and force has produced, in the course of
-the world's history, a great change in the minds of acute
-and speculative men; so that such persons can now reason
-with perfect steadiness and precision upon subjects on
-which, at first, their thoughts were vague and confused; and
-can apprehend, as truths of complete certainty and evidence,
-laws which it required great labour and time to discover.
-This _complete_ development and clear manifestation of
-mechanical ideas has taken place only among mathematicians
-and philosophers. But yet a progress of thought upon such
-subjects,--an advance from the obscure to the clear, and
-from errour to truth,--may be traced in the world at large,
-and among those who have not directly cultivated the exact
-sciences. This diffused and collateral influence of science
-manifests itself, although in a wavering and fluctuating
-manner, by various indications, at various periods of
-literary history. The opinions and reasonings which are put
-forth upon mechanical subjects, and above all, the adoption,
-into common language, of terms and phrases belonging to the
-prevalent mechanical systems, exhibit to us the most
-profound discoveries and speculations of philosophers in
-their effect upon more common and familiar trains of
-thought. This effect is by no means unimportant, and we
-shall point out some examples of such indications as we have
-mentioned.
-
-2. The discoveries of the ancients in speculative mechanics
-were, as we have seen, very scanty; and {280} hardly
-extended their influence to the unmathematical world. Yet
-the familiar use of the term 'center of gravity' preserved
-and suggested the most important part of what the Greeks had
-to teach. The other phrases which they employed, as
-_momentum_, _energy_, _virtue_, _force_, and the like, never
-had any exact meaning, even among mathematicians; and
-therefore never, in the ancient world, became the means of
-suggesting just habits of thought. I have pointed out, in
-the History of Science, several circumstances which appear
-to denote the general confusion of ideas which prevailed
-upon mechanical subjects during the times of the Roman
-empire. I have there taken as one of the examples of this
-confusion, the fable narrated by Pliny and others concerning
-the echineïs, a small fish, which was said to stop a ship
-merely by sticking to it[45\3]. This story was adduced as
-betraying the absence of any steady apprehension of the
-equality of action and reaction; since the fish, except it
-had some immoveable obstacle to hold by, must be pulled
-forward by the ship, as much as it pulled the ship backward.
-If the writers who speak of this wonder had shown any
-perception of the necessity of a reaction, either produced
-by the rapid motion of the fish's fins in the water, or in
-any other way, they would not be chargeable with this
-confusion of thought; but from their expressions it is, I
-think, evident that they saw no such necessity[46\3]. Their
-idea of mechanical action was not sufficiently distinct to
-enable them to see the absurdity of {281} supposing an
-intense pressure with no obstacle for it to exert itself
-against.
-
-[Note 45\3: _Hist. Ind. Sc._ b. iv. c. i. sect. 2.]
-
-[Note 46\3: See Prof. Powell, _On the Nature and Evidence of
-the Laws of Motion_. _Reports of the Ashmolean Society_.
-Oxford. 1837. Professor Powell has made an objection to my
-use of this instance of confusion of thought; the remark in
-the text seems to me to justify what I said in the History.
-As an evidence that the fish was not supposed to produce its
-effect by its muscular power acting on the water, we may
-take what Pliny says, _Nat. Hist._ xxxii. 1, 'Domat mundi
-rabiem, nullo suo labore; non retinendo, aut alio modo quam
-adhærendo:' and also what he states in another place (ix.
-41), that when it is preserved in pickle, it may be used in
-recovering gold which has fallen into a deep well. All this
-implies adhesion alone, with no conception of reaction.]
-
-3. We may trace, in more modern times also, indications of a
-general ignorance of mechanical truths. Thus the phrase of
-shooting at an object 'point-blank,' implies the belief that
-a cannon-ball describes a path of which the first portion is
-a straight line. This errour was corrected by the true
-mechanical principles which Galileo and his followers
-brought to light; but these principles made their way to
-popular notice, principally in consequence of their
-application to the motions of the solar system, and to the
-controversies which took place respecting those motions.
-Thus by far the most powerful argument against the reception
-of the Copernican system of the universe, was that of those
-who asked, Why a stone dropt from a tower was not left
-behind by the motion of the earth? The answer to this
-question, now universally familiar, involves a reference to
-the true doctrine of the composition of motions. Again;
-Kepler's persevering and strenuous attempts[47\3] to frame a
-physical theory of the universe were frustrated by his
-ignorance of the first law of motion, which informs us that
-a body will retain its velocity without any maintaining
-force. He proceeded upon the supposition that the sun's
-force was requisite to _keep up_ the motion of the planets,
-as well as to deflect and modify it; and he was thus led to
-a system which represented the sun as carrying round the
-planets in their orbits by means of a _vortex_, produced by
-his revolution. The same neglect of the laws of motion
-presided in the formation of Descartes' system of vortices.
-Although Descartes had enunciated in words the laws of
-motion, he and his followers showed that they had not the
-practical habit of referring to these mechanical principles;
-and dared not trust the planets to move in free space
-without some surrounding machinery to support them[48\3].
-
-[Note 47\3: _Hist. Ind. Sc._ b. v. c. iv. and b. vii. c. i.]
-
-[Note 48\3: I have, in the History, applied to Descartes the
-character which Bacon gives to Aristotle, 'Audax simul et
-pavidus:' though he was bold enough to enunciate the laws of
-motion without knowing them aright, he had not the courage
-to leave the planets to describe their orbits by the agency
-of those laws, without the machinery of contact.]
-
-{282} 4. When at last mathematicians, following Newton, had
-ventured to consider the motion of each planet as a
-mechanical problem not different in its nature from the
-motion of a stone cast from the hand; and when the solution
-of this problem and its immense consequences had become
-matters of general notoriety and interest; the new views
-introduced, as is usual, new terms, which soon became
-extensively current. We meet with such phrases as 'flying
-off in the tangent,' and 'deflexion from the tangent;' with
-antitheses between 'centripetal' and 'centrifugal force,' or
-between 'projectile' and 'central force.' 'Centers of
-force,' 'disturbing forces,' 'perturbations,' and
-'perturbations of higher orders,' are not unfrequently
-spoken of: and the expression 'to gravitate,' and the term
-'universal gravitation,' acquired a permanent place in the
-language.
-
-Yet for a long time, and even up to the present day, we find
-many indications that false and confused apprehensions on
-such subjects are by no means extirpated. Arguments are
-urged against the mechanical system of the universe,
-implying in the opponents an absence of all clear mechanical
-notions. Many of this class of writers retrograde to
-Kepler's point of view. This is, for example, the case with
-Lord Monboddo, who, arguing on the assumption that force is
-requisite to maintain, as well as to deflect motion,
-produced a series of attacks upon the Newtonian philosophy;
-which he inserted in his _Ancient Metaphysics_, published in
-1779 and the succeeding years. This writer (like Kepler),
-measures force by the velocity which the body _has_[49\3],
-not by that which it _gains_. Such a use of language would
-prevent our obtaining any laws of motion at all.
-Accordingly, the author, in the very next page to that which
-I have just quoted, abandons this measure of force, and, in
-curvilinear motion, measures {283} force by 'the fall from
-the extremity of the arc.' Again; in his objections to the
-received theory, he denies that curvilinear motion is
-compounded, although his own mode of considering such motion
-assumes this composition in the only way in which it was
-ever intended by mathematicians. Many more instances might
-be adduced to show that a want of cultivation of the
-mechanical ideas rendered this philosopher incapable of
-judging of a mechanical system.
-
-[Note 49\3: _Anc. Met._ vol. ii. b. v. c. vi. p. 413.]
-
-The following extract from the _Ancient Metaphysics_, may be
-sufficient to show the value of the author's criticism on
-the subjects of which we are now speaking. His object is to
-prove that there do not exist a centripetal and a
-centrifugal force in the case of elliptical motion. 'Let any
-man move in a circular or elliptical line described to him;
-and he will find no tendency in himself either to the center
-or from it, much less both. If indeed he attempt to make the
-motion with great velocity, or if he do it carelessly and
-inattentively, he may go out of the line, either towards the
-center or from it: but this is to be ascribed, not to the
-nature of the motion, but to our infirmity; or perhaps to
-the animal form, which is more fitted for progressive motion
-in a right line than for any kind of curvilinear motion. But
-this is not the case with a sphere or spheroid, which is
-equally adapted to motion in all directions[50\3].' We need
-hardly remind the reader that the manner in which a man
-running round a small circle, finds it necessary to lean
-inwards, in order that there may be a centripetal
-inclination to counteract the centrifugal force, is a
-standard example of our mechanical doctrines; and this fact
-(quite familiar in practice as well as theory) is in direct
-contradiction of Lord Monboddo's assertion.
-
-[Note 50\3: _Anc. Met._ vol. i. b. ii. c. 19, p. 264.]
-
-5. A similar absence of distinct mechanical thought appears
-in some of the most celebrated metaphysicians of Germany. I
-have elsewhere noted[51\3] the opinion expressed by Hegel,
-that the glory which belongs to {284} Kepler has been
-unjustly transferred to Newton; and I have suggested, as the
-explanation of this mode of thinking, that Hegel himself, in
-the knowledge of mechanical truth, had not advanced beyond
-Kepler's point of view. Persons who possess conceptions of
-space and number, but who have not learnt to deal with ideas
-of force and causation, may see more value in the
-discoveries of Kepler than in those of Newton. Another
-exemplification of this state of mind may be found in
-Professor Schelling's speculations; for instance, in his
-_Lectures on the Method of Academical Study_. In the twelfth
-Lecture, on the study of Physics and Chemistry, he says, (p.
-266,) 'What the mathematical natural philosophy has done for
-the knowledge of the laws of the universe since the time
-that they were discovered by his (Kepler's) godlike genius,
-is, as is well known, this: it has attempted a construction
-of those laws which, according to its foundations, is
-altogether empirical. We may assume it as a general rule,
-that in any proposed construction, that which is not a pure
-general form cannot have any scientific import or truth. The
-foundation from which the centrifugal motion of the bodies
-of the world is derived, is no necessary form, it is an
-empirical fact. The Newtonian attractive force, even if it
-be a necessary assumption for a merely reflective view of
-the subject, is still of no significance for the Reason,
-which recognizes only absolute relations. The grounds of the
-Keplerian laws can be derived, without any empirical
-appendage, purely from the doctrine of Ideas, and of the two
-Unities, which are in themselves one Unity, and in virtue of
-which each being, while it is absolute in itself, is at the
-same time in the absolute, and reciprocally.'
-
-[Note 51\3: _Hist. Ind. Sc._ b. vii. c. ii. sect. 5.]
-
-It will be observed, that in this passage our mechanical
-laws are objected to because they are not necessary results
-of our ideas; which, however, as we have seen, according to
-the opinion of some eminent mechanical philosophers, they
-are. But to assume this evident necessity as a condition of
-every advance in science, is to mistake the last, perhaps
-unattainable step, for the first, which lies before our
-feet. And, {285} without inquiring further about 'the
-Doctrine of the two Unities,' or the manner in which from
-that doctrine we may deduce the Keplerian laws, we may be
-well convinced that such a doctrine cannot supply any
-sufficient reason to induce us to quit the inductive path by
-which all scientific truth up to the present time has been
-acquired.
-
-6. But without going to schools of philosophy opposed to the
-Inductive School, we may find many loose and vague habits of
-thinking on mechanical subjects among the common classes of
-readers and reasoners. And there are some familiar modes of
-employing the phraseology of mechanical science, which are,
-in a certain degree, chargeable with inaccuracy, and may
-produce or perpetuate confusion. Among such cases we may
-mention the way in which the centripetal and centrifugal
-forces, and also the projectile and central forces of the
-planets, are often compared or opposed. Such antitheses
-sometimes proceed upon the false notion that the two members
-of these pairs of forces are of the same kind: whereas on
-the contrary the _projectile_ force is a hypothetical
-impulsive force which may, at some former period, have
-caused the motion to begin; while the _central_ force is an
-actual force, which must act continuously and during the
-whole time of the motion, in order that the motion may go on
-in the curve. In the same manner the _centrifugal_ force is
-not a distinct force in a strict sense, but only a certain
-result of the first law of motion, measured by the portion
-of _centripetal_ force which counteracts it. Comparisons of
-quantities so heterogeneous imply confusion of thought, and
-often suggest baseless speculations and imagined reforms of
-the received opinions.
-
-7. I might point out other terms and maxims, in addition to
-those already mentioned, which, though formerly employed in
-a loose and vague manner, are now accurately understood and
-employed by all just thinkers; and thus secure and diffuse a
-right understanding of mechanical truths. Such are
-_momentum_, _inertia_, _quantity of matter_, _quantity of
-motion_; that _force is proportional to its effects_; that
-_action and_ {286} _reaction are equal_; that _what is
-gained in force by machinery is lost in time_; that _the
-quantity of motion in the world cannot be either increased
-or diminished_. When the expression of the truth thus
-becomes easy and simple, clear and convincing, the meanings
-given to words and phrases by discoverers glide into the
-habitual texture of men's reasonings, and the effect of the
-establishment of true mechanical principles is felt far from
-the school of the mechanician. If these terms and maxims are
-understood with tolerable clearness, they carry the
-influence of truth to those who have no direct access to its
-sources. Many an extravagant project in practical machinery,
-and many a wild hypothesis in speculative physics, has been
-repressed by the general currency of such maxims as we have
-just quoted.
-
-8. Indeed so familiar and evident are the elementary truths
-of mechanics when expressed in this simple form, that they
-are received as truisms; and men are disposed to look back
-with surprise and scorn at the speculations which were
-carried on in neglect of them. The most superficial reasoner
-of modern times thinks himself entitled to speak with
-contempt and ridicule of Kepler's hypothesis concerning the
-physical causes of the celestial motions: and gives himself
-credit for intellectual superiority, because he sees, as
-self-evident, what such a man could not discover at all. It
-is well for such a person to recollect, that the real cause
-of his superior insight is not the pre-eminence of his
-faculties, but the successful labours of those who have
-preceded him. The language which he has learnt to use
-unconsciously, has been adapted to, and moulded on,
-ascertained truths. When he talks familiarly of
-"accelerating forces" and "deflexions from the tangent," he
-is assuming that which Kepler did not know, and which it
-cost Galileo and his disciples so much labour and thought to
-establish. Language is often called an instrument of
-thought; but it is also the nutriment of thought; or rather,
-it is the atmosphere in which thought lives: a medium
-essential to the activity of our speculative power, although
-invisible {287} and imperceptible in its operation; and an
-element modifying, by its qualities and changes, the growth
-and complexion of the faculties which it feeds. In this way
-the influence of preceding discoveries upon subsequent ones,
-of the past upon the present, is most penetrating and
-universal, though most subtle and difficult to trace. The
-most familiar words and phrases are connected by
-imperceptible ties with the reasonings and discoveries of
-former men and distant times. Their knowledge is an
-inseparable part of ours; the present generation inherits
-and uses the scientific wealth of all the past. And this is
-the fortune, not only of the great and rich in the
-intellectual world: of those who have the key to the ancient
-storehouses, and who have accumulated treasures of their
-own;--but the humblest inquirer, while he puts his
-reasonings into words, benefits by the labours of the
-greatest discoverers. When he counts his little wealth, he
-finds that he has in his hands coins which bear the image
-and superscription of ancient and modern intellectual
-dynasties; and that in virtue of this possession,
-acquisitions are in his power, solid knowledge within his
-reach, which none could ever have attained to, if it were
-not that the gold of truth, once dug out of the mine,
-circulates more and more widely among mankind.
-
-9. Having so fully examined, in the preceding instances, the
-nature of the progress of thought which science implies,
-both among the peculiar cultivators of science, and in that
-wider world of general culture which receives only an
-indirect influence from scientific discoveries, we shall not
-find it necessary to go into the same extent of detail with
-regard to the other provinces of human knowledge. In the
-case of the Mechanical Sciences, we have endeavoured to
-show, not only that Ideas are requisite in order to form
-into a science the Facts which nature offers to us, but that
-we can advance, almost or quite, to a complete
-identification of the Facts with the Ideas. In the sciences
-to which we now proceed, we shall not seek to fill up the
-chasm by which Facts and Ideas are separated; but we shall
-endeavour to detect the Ideas which our {288} knowledge
-involves, to show how essential these are; and in some
-respects to trace the mode in which they have been gradually
-developed among men.
-
-10. The motions of the heavenly bodies, their laws, their
-causes, are among the subjects of the first division of the
-Mechanical Sciences; and of these sciences we formerly
-sketched the history, and have now endeavoured to exhibit
-the philosophy. If we were to take any other class of
-motions, _their_ laws and causes might give rise to sciences
-which would be mechanical sciences in exactly the same sense
-in which Physical Astronomy is so. The phenomena of magnets,
-of electrical bodies, of galvanical apparatus, seem to form
-obvious materials for such sciences; and if they were so
-treated, the philosophy of such branches of knowledge would
-naturally come under our consideration at this point of our
-progress.
-
-But on looking more attentively at the sciences of
-Electricity, Magnetism, and Galvanism, we discover cogent
-reasons for transferring them to another part of our
-arrangement; we find it advisable to associate them with
-Chemistry, and to discuss their principles when we can
-connect them with the principles of chemical science. For
-though the first steps and narrower generalizations of these
-sciences depend upon mechanical ideas, the highest laws and
-widest generalizations which we can reach respecting them,
-involve chemical relations. The progress of these portions
-of knowledge is in some respects opposite to the progress of
-Physical Astronomy. In this, we begin with phenomena which
-appear to indicate peculiar and various qualities in the
-bodies which we consider, (namely, the heavenly bodies,) and
-we find in the end that all these qualities resolve
-themselves into one common mechanical property, which exists
-alike in all bodies and parts of bodies. On the contrary, in
-studying magnetical and electrical laws, we appear at first
-to have a single extensive phenomenon, attraction and
-repulsion: but in our attempts to generalize this
-phenomenon, we find that it is governed by conditions
-depending upon something quite separate from the bodies
-themselves, upon {289} the presence and distribution of
-peculiar and transitory agencies; and, so far as we can
-discover, the general laws of these agencies are of a
-_chemical_ nature, and are brought into action by peculiar
-properties of special substances. In cosmical phenomena,
-everything, in proportion as it is referred to mechanical
-principles, tends to simplicity,--to permanent uniform
-forces,--to one common, positive, property. In magnetical
-and electrical appearances, on the contrary, the application
-of mechanical principles leads only to a new complexity,
-which requires a new explanation; and this explanation
-involves changeable and various forces,--gradations and
-oppositions of qualities. The doctrine of the universal
-gravitation of matter is a simple and ultimate truth, in
-which the mind can acquiesce and repose. We rank gravity
-among the mechanical attributes of matter, and we see no
-necessity to derive it from any ulterior properties. Gravity
-belongs to matter, independent of any conditions. But the
-_conditions_ of magnetic or electrical activity require
-investigation as much as the _laws_ of their action. Of
-these conditions no mere mechanical explanation can be
-given; we are compelled to take along with us chemical
-properties and relations also: and thus magnetism,
-electricity, galvanism, are _mechanico-chemical sciences_.
-
-11. Before considering these, therefore, I shall treat of
-what I shall call _Secondary Mechanical Sciences_; by which
-expression I mean the sciences depending upon certain
-qualities which our senses discover to us in
-bodies;--_Optics_, which has visible phenomena for its
-subject; _Acoustics_, the science of hearing; the doctrine
-of _Heat_, a quality which our touch recognizes: to this
-last science I shall take the liberty of sometimes giving
-the name _Thermotics_, analogous to the names of the other
-two. If our knowledge of the phenomena of Smell and Taste
-had been successfully cultivated and systematized, the
-present part of our work would be the place for the
-philosophical discussion of those sensations as the subjects
-of science.
-
-The branches of knowledge thus grouped in one class involve
-common Fundamental Ideas, from which {290} their principles
-are derived in a mode analogous, at least in a certain
-degree, to the mode in which the principles of the
-mechanical sciences are derived from the fundamental ideas
-of causation and reaction. We proceed now to consider these
-Fundamental Ideas, their nature, development, and
-consequences.
-
-
-
-
-{{291}}
-BOOK IV.
-
-
-THE
-PHILOSOPHY
-OF THE
-SECONDARY
-MECHANICAL SCIENCES.
-
-
-
-
-Πάσχοντος γάρ τι τοῦ αἰσθητικοῦ γίνεται τὸ ὁρᾶν· ὑπ' αὐτοῦ
-μὲν οὖν τοῦ ὁρωμένου χρώματος ἀδύνατον· λείπεται δὴ ὑπὸ _τοῦ
-μεταξύ_, ὥστ' ἀναγκαῖόν τι εἶναι _μεταξύ_· κενοῦ δὲ
-γενομένου οὐχ ὅτι ἀκριβῶς, ἀλλ' ὅλως οὐθὲν ὀφθήσεται. δι' ἣν
-μὲν οὖν αἰτίαν τὸ χρῶμα ἀναγκαῖον ἐν φωτὶ ὁρᾶσθαι, εἴρηται.
-πῦρ δὲ ἐν ἀμφοῖν ὁρᾶται, καὶ ἐν σκότει καὶ ἐν φωτί, καὶ
-τοῦτο _ἐξ ἀνάγκης_· τὸ γὰρ διαφανὲς ὑπὸ τούτου γίνεται
-διαφανές. ὁ δ' αὐτὸς λόγος καὶ περὶ ψόφου καὶ ὀσμῆς ἐστιν·
-οὐθὲν γὰρ αὐτῶν ἁπτόμενον τοῦ αἰσθητηρίου ποιεῖ τὴν
-αἴσθησιν, ἀλλ' ὑπὸ μὲν ὀσμῆς καὶ ψόφου _τὸ μεταξὺ_ κινεῖται,
-ὑπὸ δὲ τούτου τῶν αἰσθητηρίων ἑκάτερον· ὅταν δ' ἐπ' αὐτό τις
-ἐπιθῇ τὸ αἰσθητήριον τὸ ψοφοῦν ἢ τὸ ὄζον, οὐδεμίαν αἴσθησιν
-ποιήσει.
-
-ARISTOT. _De Anima_, II. 7.
-
-
-
-{{293}} BOOK IV.
-
-
-THE PHILOSOPHY OF THE SECONDARY MECHANICAL SCIENCES.
-
-
-CHAPTER I.
-
-OF THE IDEA OF A MEDIUM AS COMMONLY EMPLOYED.
-
-
-1. _Of Primary and Secondary Qualities._--IN the same way in
-which the mechanical sciences depend upon the Idea of Cause,
-and have their principles regulated by the development of
-that Idea, it will be found that the sciences which have for
-their subject Sound, Light, and Heat, depend for _their_
-principles upon the Fundamental Idea of Media by means of
-which we perceive those qualities. Like the idea of cause,
-this idea of a medium is unavoidably employed, more or less
-distinctly, in the common, unscientific operations of the
-understanding; and is recognized as an express principle in
-the earliest speculative essays of man. But here also, as in
-the case of the mechanical sciences, the development of the
-idea, and the establishment of the scientific truths which
-depend upon it, was the business of a succeeding period, and
-was only executed by means of long and laborious researches,
-conducted with a constant reference to experiment and
-observation.
-
-Among the most prominent manifestations of the influence of
-the idea of a medium of which we have now to speak, is the
-distinction of the qualities of bodies into _primary_, and
-_secondary_ qualities. This distinction has {294} been
-constantly spoken of in modern times: yet it has often been
-a subject of discussion among metaphysicians whether there
-be really such a distinction, and what the true difference
-is. Locke states it thus[1\4]: Original or Primary qualities
-of bodies are 'such as are utterly inseparable from the body
-in what estate soever it may be,--such as sense constantly
-finds in every particle of matter which has bulk enough to
-be perceived, and the mind finds inseparable from every
-particle of matter, though less than to make itself singly
-perceived by our senses:' and he enumerates them as
-solidity, extension, figure, motion or rest, and number.
-Secondary qualities, on the other hand, are such 'which in
-truth are nothing in the objects themselves, but powers to
-produce various sensations in us by their primary qualities,
-_i.e._ by the bulk, figure, texture, and motion of their
-insensible parts, as colours, sounds, tastes, &c.'
-
-[Note 1\4: _Essay_, b. ii. ch. viii. s. 9, 10.]
-
-Dr. Reid[2\4], reconsidering this subject, puts the
-difference in another way. There is, he says, a real
-foundation for the distinction of Primary and Secondary
-qualities, and it is this: 'That our senses give us a direct
-and distinct notion of the primary qualities, and inform us
-what they are in themselves; but of the secondary qualities,
-our senses give us only a relative and obscure notion. They
-inform us only that they are qualities that affect us in a
-certain manner, that is, produce in us a certain sensation;
-but as to what they are in themselves, our senses leave us
-in the dark.'
-
-[Note 2\4: _Essays_, b. ii. c. xvii.]
-
-Dr. Brown[3\4] states the distinction somewhat otherwise. We
-give the name of Matter, he observes, to that which has
-extension and resistance: these, therefore, are Primary
-qualities of matter, because they compose our definition of
-it. All other qualities are Secondary, since they are
-ascribed to bodies only because we find them associated with
-the primary qualities which form our notion of those bodies.
-
-[Note 3\4: _Lectures_, ii. 12.]
-
-{295} It is not necessary to criticize very strictly these
-various distinctions. If it were, it would be easy to find
-objections to them. Thus Locke, it may be observed, does not
-point out any _reason_ for believing that his secondary
-qualities are produced by the primary. How are we to learn
-that the colour of a rose arises from the bulk, figure,
-texture, and motion of its particles? Certainly our senses
-do not teach us this; and in what other way, on Locke's
-principles, can we learn it? Reid's statement is not more
-free from the same objection. How does it appear that our
-notion of Warmth is relative to our own sensations more than
-our notion of Solidity? And if we take Brown's account, we
-may still ask whether our selection of certain qualities to
-form our idea and definition of Matter be arbitrary and
-without reason? If it be, how can it make a real
-distinction? if it be not, what is the reason?
-
-I do not press these objections, because I believe that any
-of the above accounts of the distinction of Primary and
-Secondary qualities is right in the main, however imperfect
-it may be. The difference between such qualities as
-Extension and Solidity on the one hand, and Colour or
-Fragrance on the other, is assented to by all, with a
-conviction so firm and indestructible, that there must be
-some fundamental principle at the bottom of the belief,
-however difficult it may be to clothe the principle in
-words. That successive efforts to express the real nature of
-the difference were made by men so clear-sighted and acute
-as those whom I have quoted, even if none of them are
-satisfactory, shows how strong and how deeply-seated is the
-perception of truth which impels us to such attempts.
-
-The most obvious mode of stating the difference of Primary
-and Secondary qualities, as it naturally offers itself to
-speculative minds, appears to be that employed by Locke,
-slightly modified. Certain of the qualities of bodies, as
-their bulk, figure, and motion, are perceived immediately in
-the bodies themselves. Certain other qualities as sound,
-colour, heat, are {296} perceived by means of some medium.
-Our conviction that this is the case is spontaneous and
-irresistible; and this difference of qualities immediately
-and mediately perceived is the distinction of Primary and
-Secondary qualities. We proceed further to examine this
-conviction.
-
-2. _The Idea of Externality._--In reasoning concerning the
-Secondary Qualities of bodies, we are led to assume the
-bodies to be external to us, and to be perceived by means of
-some Medium intermediate between us and them. These
-assumptions are fundamental conditions of perception,
-inseparable from perception even in thought.
-
-That objects are _external_ to us, that they are _without_
-us, that they have _outness_, is as clear as it is that
-these words have any meaning at all. This conviction is,
-indeed, involved in the exercise of that faculty by which we
-perceive all things as existing in space; for by this
-faculty we place ourselves and other objects in one common
-space, and thus they are exterior to us. It may be remarked
-that this apprehension of objects as external to us,
-although it assumes the idea of space, is far from being
-implied in the idea of space. The objects which we
-contemplate are considered as existing in space, and by that
-means become invested with certain mutual relations of
-position; but when we consider them as existing without
-_us_, we make the additional step of supposing _ourselves_
-and the objects to exist in one common space. The question
-respecting the Ideal Theory of Berkeley has been mixed up
-with the recognition of this condition of the externality of
-objects. That philosopher maintained, as is well known, that
-the perceptible qualities of bodies have no existence except
-in a perceiving mind. This system has often been understood
-as if he had imagined the world to be a kind of optical
-illusion, like the images which we see when we shut our
-eyes, appearing to be without us, though they are only in
-our organs; and thus this Ideal System has been opposed to a
-belief in an external world. In truth, however, no such
-opposition exists. The Ideal System is an attempt to explain
-the {297} mental process of perception, and to get over the
-difficulty of mind being affected by matter. But the author
-of that system did not deny that objects were perceived
-under the conditions of space and mechanical
-causation;--that they were _external_ and _material_ so far
-as those words describe perceptible qualities. Berkeley's
-system, however visionary or erroneous, did not prevent his
-entertaining views as just, concerning optics or acoustics,
-as if he had held any other doctrine of the nature of
-perception.
-
-But when Berkeley's theory was understood as a denial of the
-existence of objects without us, how was it answered? If we
-examine the answers which are given by Reid and other
-philosophers to this hypothesis, it will be found that they
-amount to this: that objects _are_ without us, since we
-_perceive_ that they are so; that we perceive them to be
-external, by the same act by which we perceive them to be
-objects. And thus, in this stage of philosophical inquiry,
-the externality of objects is recognized as one of the
-inevitable conditions of our perception of them; and hence
-the Idea of Externality is adopted as one of the necessary
-foundations of all reasoning concerning all objects
-whatever.
-
-3. _Sensation by a Medium._--Objects, as we have just seen,
-are necessarily apprehended as _without_ us; and in general,
-as removed from us by a great or small distance. Yet they
-affect our bodily senses; and this leads us irresistibly to
-the conviction that they are perceived by means of something
-intermediate. Vision, or hearing, or smell, or the warmth of
-a fire, must be communicated to us by some Medium of
-Sensation. This unavoidable belief appears in all attempts,
-the earliest and the latest alike, to speculate upon such
-subjects. Thus, for instance, Aristotle says[4\4], 'Seeing
-takes place in virtue of some action which the sentient
-organ suffers: now it cannot suffer action from the colour
-of the object directly: the only remaining possible case
-then is, that it is acted upon by an {298} intervening
-Medium; there must then be an intervening Medium.' 'And the
-same may be said,' he adds, 'concerning sounding and odorous
-bodies; for these do not produce sensation by touching the
-sentient organ, but the intervening Medium is acted on by
-the sound or the smell, and the proper organ, by the Medium
-... In sound the Medium is air; in smell we have no name for
-it.' In the sense of taste, the necessity of a Medium is not
-at first so obviously seen, because the object tasted is
-brought into contact with the organ; but a little attention
-convinces us that the taste of a solid body can only be
-perceived when it is conveyed in some liquid vehicle. Till
-the fruit is crushed, and till its juices are pressed out,
-we do not distinguish its flavour. In the case of heat, it
-is still more clear that we are compelled to suppose some
-invisible fluid, or other means of communication, between
-the distant body which warms us and ourselves.
-
-[Note 4\4: Περὶ Ψυχῆς. ii. 7. See the motto to this Book.]
-
-It may appear to some persons that the assumption of an
-intermedium between the object perceived and the sentient
-organ results from the principles which form the basis of
-our mechanical reasonings,--that every change must have a
-cause, and that bodies can act upon each other only by
-contact. It cannot be denied that this principle does offer
-itself very naturally as the ground of our belief in media
-of sensation; and it appears to be referred to for this
-purpose by Aristotle in the passage quoted above. But yet we
-cannot but ask, Does the principle, that matter produces its
-effect by contact only, manifestly apply here? When we so
-apply it, we include _sensation_ among the _effects_ which
-material contact produces;--a case so different from any
-merely mechanical effect, that the principle, so employed,
-appears to acquire a new signification. May we not, then,
-rather say that we have here a new axiom,--That sensation
-implies a material cause immediately acting on the
-organ,--than a new application of our former
-proposition,--That all mechanical change implies contact?
-
-The solution of this doubt is not of any material
-consequence to our reasonings; for whatever be the {299}
-ground of the assumption, it is certain that we do assume
-the existence of media by which the sensations of sight,
-hearing, and the like, are produced; and it will be seen
-shortly that principles inseparably connected with this
-assumption are the basis of the sciences now before us.
-
-This assumption makes its appearance in the physical
-doctrines of all the schools of philosophy. It is exhibited
-perhaps most prominently in the tenets of the Epicureans,
-who were materialists, and extended to all kinds of
-causation the axiom of the existence of a corporeal
-mechanism by which alone the effect is produced. Thus,
-according to them, vision is produced by certain images or
-material films which flow from the object, strike upon the
-eyes, and so become sensible. This opinion is urged with
-great detail and earnestness by Lucretius, the poetical
-expositor of the Epicurean creed among the Romans. His
-fundamental conviction of the necessity of a material medium
-is obviously the basis of his reasoning, though he attempts
-to show the existence of such a medium by facts. Thus he
-argues[5\4], that by shouting loud we make the throat sore;
-which shows, he says, that the voice must be material, so
-that it can hurt the passage in coming out.
- Haud igitur dubium est quin voces verbaque constent
- Corporeis e principiis ut lædere possint.
-
-[Note 5\4: _De Rerum Naturâ_, Lib. iv. 529.]
-
-4. _The Process of Perception of Secondary Qualities._--The
-likenesses or representatives of objects by which they
-affect our senses were called by some writers _species_, or
-_sensible species_, a term which continued in use till the
-revival of science. It may be observed that the conception
-of these _species_ as films cast off from the object, and
-retaining its shape, was different, as we have seen, from
-the view which Aristotle took, though it has sometimes been
-called the Peripatetic doctrine[6\4]. We may add that the
-expression was latterly applied to express the supposition
-of an emanation of any kind, and implied little {300} more
-than that supposition of a Medium of which we are now
-speaking. Thus Bacon, after reviewing the phenomena of
-sound, says[7\4], 'Videntur motus soni fieri per _species
-spirituales_: ita enim loquendum donec certius quippiam
-inveniatur.'
-
-[Note 6\4: Brown, vol. ii. p. 98.]
-
-[Note 7\4: _Hist. Son. et Aud._ vol. ix. p. 87.]
-
-Though the fundamental principles of several sciences depend
-upon the assumption of a Medium of Perception, these
-principles do not at all depend upon any special view of the
-Process of our perceptions. The mechanism of that process is
-a curious subject of consideration; but it belongs to
-physiology, more properly than either to metaphysics, or to
-those branches of physics of which we are now speaking. The
-general nature of the process is the same for all the
-senses. The object affects the appropriate intermedium; the
-medium, through the proper organ, the eye, the ear, the
-nose, affects the nerves of the particular sense; and, by
-these, in some way, the sensation is conveyed to the mind,
-But to treat the _impression_ upon the nerves as the _act_
-of sensation which we have to consider, would be to mistake
-our object, which is not the constitution of the human body,
-but of the human mind. It would be to mistake one link of
-the chain for the power which holds the end of the chain. No
-anatomical analysis of the corporeal conditions of vision,
-or hearing, or feeling warm, is necessary to the sciences of
-Optics, or Acoustics, or Thermotics.
-
-Not only is this physiological research an extraneous part
-of our subject, but a partial pursuit of such a research may
-mislead the inquirer. We perceive objects _by means of_
-certain media, and _by means of_ certain impressions on the
-nerves: but we cannot with propriety say that we perceive
-either the media or the impressions on the nerves. What
-person in the act of seeing is conscious of the little
-coloured spaces on the retina? or of the motions of the
-bones of the auditory apparatus whilst he is hearing?
-Surely, no one. This may appear obvious enough, and yet a
-writer of no common acuteness, Dr. Brown, has put forth
-several {301} very strange opinions, all resting upon the
-doctrine that the coloured spaces on the retina are the
-_objects_ which we perceive; and there are some supposed
-difficulties and paradoxes on the same subject which have
-become quite celebrated (as upright vision with inverted
-images), arising from the same confusion of thought.
-
-As the consideration of the difficulties which have arisen
-respecting the Philosophy of Perception may serve still
-further to illustrate the principles on which we necessarily
-reason respecting the secondary qualities of bodies, I shall
-here devote a few pages to that subject.
-
-
-
-{{302}}
-CHAPTER II.
-
-ON PECULIARITIES IN THE PERCEPTIONS OF THE DIFFERENT SENSES.
-
-
-1. WE cannot doubt that we perceive all secondary qualities
-by means of immediate impressions made, through the proper
-medium of sensation, upon our organs. Hence all the senses
-are sometimes vaguely spoken of as modifications of the
-sense of feeling. It will, however, be seen, on reflection,
-that this mode of speaking identifies in words things which
-in our conceptions have nothing in common. No impression on
-the organs of touch can be conceived as having any
-resemblance to colour or smell. No effort, no ingenuity, can
-enable us to describe the impressions of one sense in terms
-borrowed from another.
-
-The senses have, however, each its peculiar powers, and
-these powers may be in some respects compared, so as to show
-their leading resemblances and differences, and the
-characteristic privileges and laws of each. This is what we
-shall do as briefly as possible.
-
-
-SECT. I.--_Prerogatives of Sight._
-
-THE sight distinguishes colours, as the hearing
-distinguishes tones; the sight estimates degrees of
-brightness, the ear, degrees of loudness; but with several
-resemblances, there are most remarkable differences between
-these two senses.
-
-2. _Position._--The sight has this peculiar prerogative,
-that it apprehends the _place_ of its objects directly and
-primarily. We see _where_ an object is at the same instant
-that we see what it is. If we see two objects, we see their
-relative position. We cannot help {303} perceiving that one
-is above or below, to the right or to the left of the other,
-if we perceive them at all.
-
-There is nothing corresponding to this in sound. When we
-hear a noise, we do not necessarily assign a place to it. It
-may easily happen that we cannot tell from which side a
-thunder-clap comes. And though we often can judge in what
-direction a voice is heard, this is a matter of secondary
-impression, and of inference from concomitant circumstances,
-not a primary fact of sensation. The judgments which we form
-concerning the position of sounding bodies are obtained by
-the conscious or unconscious comparison of the impressions
-made on the two ears, and on the bones of the head in
-general; they are not inseparable conditions of hearing. We
-may hear sounds, and be uncertain whether they are 'above,
-around, or underneath!' but the moment anything visible
-appears, however unexpected, we can say, 'see _where_ it
-comes!'
-
-Since we can see the relative position of things, we can see
-_figure_, which is but the relative position of the
-different parts of the boundary of the object. And thus the
-whole visible world exhibits to us a scene of various
-shapes, coloured and shaded according to their form and
-position, but each having relations of position to all the
-rest; and altogether, entirely filling up the whole range
-which the eye can command.
-
-3. _Distance._--The distance of objects from us is no matter
-of immediate perception, but is a judgment and inference
-formed from our sensations, in something of the same way as
-our judgment of position by the ear, though more precise.
-That this is so, was most distinctly shown by Berkeley, in
-his _New Theory of Vision_. The elements on which we form
-our judgment are, the effort by which we fix both eyes on
-the same object, the effort by which we adjust each eye to
-distinct vision, and the known forms, colours, and parts of
-objects, as compared with their appearance. The right
-interpretation of the information which these circumstances
-give us respecting the true distances and forms of things,
-is gradually learnt by experience, the lesson being begun in
-our earliest infancy, and inculcated upon us every hour
-during which we {304} use our eyes. The completeness with
-which the lesson is learnt is truly admirable; for we forget
-that our conclusion is obtained indirectly, and mistake a
-judgment on evidence for an intuitive perception. This,
-however, is not more surprizing than the rapidity and
-unconsciousness of effort with which we understand the
-meaning of the speech that we hear, or the book that we
-read. In both cases, the habit of interpretation is become
-as familiar as the act of perception. And this is the case
-with regard to vision. We see the breadth of the street as
-clearly and readily as we see the house on the other side of
-it. We see the house to be square, however obliquely it be
-presented to us. Indeed the difficulty is, to recover the
-consciousness of our real and original sensations;--to
-discover what is the _apparent_ relation of the lines which
-appear before us. As we have already said, (book ii. chap.
-6) in the common process of vision we suppose ourselves to
-see that which cannot be seen; and when we would make a
-picture of an object, the difficulty is to represent what is
-visible and no more.
-
-But perfect as is our habit of interpreting what we
-perceive, we could not interpret if we did not perceive. If
-the eye did not apprehend visible position, it could not
-infer actual position, which is collected from visible
-position as a consequence: if we did not see apparent
-figure, we could not arrive at any opinion concerning real
-form. The perception of place, which is the prerogative of
-the eye, is the basis of all its other superiority.
-
-The precision with which the eye can judge of apparent
-position is remarkable. If we had before us two stars
-distant from each other by one-twentieth of the moon's
-diameter, we could easily decide the apparent direction of
-the one from the other, as above or below, to the right or
-left. Yet eight millions of stars might be placed in the
-visible hemisphere of the sky at such distances from each
-other; and thus the eye would recognize the relative
-position in a portion of its range not greater than one
-eight-millionth of the whole. Such is the accuracy of the
-sense of vision in this {305} respect; and, indeed, we might
-with truth have stated it much higher. Our judgment of the
-position of distant objects in a landscape depends upon
-features far more minute than the magnitude we have here
-described.
-
-As our object is to point out principally the differences of
-the senses, we do not dwell upon the delicacy with which we
-distinguish tints and shades, but proceed to another sense.
-
-
-SECT. II.--_Prerogatives of Hearing._
-
-THE sense of hearing has two remarkable prerogatives; it can
-perceive a definite and peculiar relation between certain
-tones, and it can clearly perceive two tones together; in
-both these circumstances it is distinguished from vision,
-and from the other senses.
-
-4. _Musical intervals._--We perceive that two tones have, or
-have not, certain definite relations to each other, which we
-call _Concords_: one sound is a _Fifth_, an _Octave_, &c.,
-above the other. And when this is the case, our perception
-of the relation is extremely precise. It is easy to perceive
-when a fifth is out of tune by one-twentieth of a tone; that
-is, by one-seventieth of itself. To this there is nothing
-analogous in vision. Colours have certain vague relations to
-one another; they look well together, by contrast or by
-resemblance; but this is an indefinite, and in most cases a
-casual and variable feeling. The relation of _complementary_
-colours to one another, as of red to green, is somewhat more
-definite; but still, has nothing of the exactness and
-peculiarity which belongs to a musical concord. In the case
-of the two sounds, there is an exact point at which the
-relation obtains; when by altering one note we pass this
-point, the concord does not gradually fade away, but
-instantly becomes a discord; and if we go further still, we
-obtain another concord of quite a different character.
-
-We learn from the theory of sound that concords occur when
-the times of vibration of the notes have exact simple
-ratios; an octave has these times as 1 to {306} 2; a fifth,
-as 2 to 3. According to the undulatory theory of light, such
-ratios occur in colours, yet the eye is not affected by them
-in any peculiar way. The times of the undulations of certain
-red and certain violet rays are as 2 to 3, but we do not
-perceive any peculiar harmony or connexion between those
-colours.
-
-5. _Chords._--Again, the ear has this prerogative, that it
-can apprehend two notes together, yet distinct. If two
-notes, distant by a fifth from each other, are sounded on
-two wind instruments, both they and their musical relation
-are clearly perceived. There is not a mixture, but a
-concord, a musical interval. In colours, the case is
-otherwise. If blue and yellow fall on the same spot, they
-form green; the colour is simple to the eye; it can no more
-be decomposed by the vision than if it were the simple green
-of the prismatic spectrum: it is impossible for us, by
-sight, to tell whether it is so or not.
-
-These are very remarkable differences of the two senses: two
-colours can be compounded into an apparently simple one; two
-sounds cannot: colours pass into each other by gradations
-and intermediate tints; sounds pass from one concord to
-another by no gradations: the most intolerable discord is
-that which is near a concord. We shall hereafter see how
-these differences affect the _scales_ of sound and of
-colour.
-
-6. _Rhythm._--We might remark, that as we see objects in
-_space_, we hear sounds in _time_; and that we thus
-introduce an arrangement among sounds which has several
-analogies with the arrangement of objects in space. But the
-conception of time does not seem to be peculiarly connected
-with the sense of hearing; a faculty of apprehending tone
-and time, or in musical phraseology _tune_ and _rhythm_, are
-certainly very distinct. I shall not, therefore, here dwell
-upon such analogies.
-
-The other Senses have not any peculiar prerogatives, at
-least none which bear on the formation of science. I may,
-however, notice, in the feeling of heat, this circumstance;
-that it presents us with two opposites, heat and cold, which
-graduate into each other. This {307} is not quite peculiar,
-for vision also exhibits to us white and black, which are
-clearly opposites, and which pass into each other by the
-shades of gray.
-
-
-SECT. III.--_The Paradoxes of Vision._
-
-7. _First Paradox of Vision. Upright Vision._--All our
-senses appear to have this in common; That they act by means
-of organs, in which a bundle of nerves receives the
-impression of the appropriate medium of the sense. In the
-construction of these organs there are great differences and
-peculiarities, corresponding, in part at least, to the
-differences in the information given. Moreover, in some
-cases, as we have noted in the case of audible position and
-visible distance, that which seems to be a perception is
-really a judgment founded on perceptions of which we are not
-directly aware. It will be seen, therefore, that with
-respect to the peculiar powers of each sense, it may be
-asked;--whether they can be explained by the construction of
-the peculiar organ;--whether they are acquired judgments and
-not direct perceptions;--or whether they are inexplicable in
-either of these ways, and cannot, at present at least, be
-resolved into anything but conditions of the intellectual
-act of perception.
-
-Two of these questions with regard to vision, have been much
-discussed by psychological writers: the cause of our seeing
-objects upright by inverted images on the retina; and of our
-seeing single with two such images.
-
-Physiologists have very completely explained the exquisitely
-beautiful mechanism of the eye, considered as analogous to
-an optical instrument; and it is indisputable that by means
-of certain transparent lenses and humours, an inverted image
-of the objects which are looked at is formed upon the
-_retina_, or fine net-work of nerve, with which the back of
-the eye is lined. We cannot doubt that the impression thus
-produced on these nerves is essential to the act of vision;
-and so far as we consider the nerves {308} themselves to
-feel or perceive by contact, we may say that they perceive
-this image, or the affections of light which it indicates.
-But we cannot with any propriety say that _we_ perceive, or
-that our mind perceives, this image; for we are not
-conscious of it, and none but anatomists are aware of its
-existence: we perceive _by means_ of it.
-
-A difficulty has been raised, and dwelt upon in a most
-unaccountable manner, arising from the neglect of this
-obvious distinction. It has been asked, how is it that we
-see an object, a man for instance, upright, when the
-immediate object of our sensation, the image of the man on
-our retina, is inverted? To this we must answer, that we see
-him upright _because_ the image is inverted; that the
-inverted image is the necessary means of seeing an upright
-object. This is granted, and where then is the difficulty?
-Perhaps it may be put thus: How is it that we do not judge
-the man to be inverted, since the sensible image is so? To
-this we may reply, that we have no notion of _upright_ or
-inverted, except that which is founded on experience, and
-that all our experience, without exception, must have taught
-us that such a sensible image belongs to a man who is in an
-upright position. Indeed, the contrary judgment is not
-conceivable; a man is upright whose head is upwards and his
-feet downwards. But what are the sensible images of
-_upwards_ and _downwards_? Whatever be our standard of up
-and down, the sensible representation of _up_ will be an
-image moving on the retina towards the lower side, and the
-sensible representation of _down_ will be a motion towards
-the upper side. The head of the man's image is towards the
-image of the sky, its feet are towards the image of the
-ground; how then should it appear otherwise than upright? Do
-we expect that the whole world should appear inverted? Be it
-so: but if the whole be inverted, how is the relation of the
-parts altered? Do we expect that we should think our own
-persons in particular? This cannot be, for we look at them
-as we do at other objects. Do we expect that things should
-appear to fall {309} upwards? Surely not. For what do we
-know of upwards, except that it is the direction in which
-bodies do _not_ fall? In short, the whole of this
-difficulty, though it has in no small degree embarrassed
-metaphysicians, appears to result from a very palpable
-confusion of ideas; from an attempt at comparison of what
-_we_ see, with that which the retina feels, as if they were
-separately presentable. It is a sufficient explanation to
-say, that we do not see the image on the retina, but see by
-_means_ of it. The perplexity does not require much more
-skill to disentangle, than it does to see that a word
-written in _black_ ink, may signify _white_[8\4].
-
-[Note 8\4: The explanation of our seeing objects erect when
-the image is inverted has been put very simply, by saying,
-'We _call_ that the _lower_ end of an object which is next
-the ground.' The observer cannot look into his own eye; he
-knows _by experience_ what kind of image corresponds to a
-man in an upright position. The anatomist tells him that
-this image is _inverted_: but this does not disturb the
-process of judging by experience. It does not appear why any
-one should be perplexed at the notion of seeing objects
-erect by means of inverted images, rather than at the notion
-of seeing objects large by means of small images; or cubical
-and pyramidal, by means of images on a spherical surface; or
-green and red, by means of images on a black surface. Indeed
-some persons have contrived to perplex themselves with these
-latter questions, as well as the first.
-
-The above explanation is not at all affected, as to its
-substance, if we adopt Sir David Brewster's expression, and
-say that the _line of visible direction_ is a line passing
-through the center of the spherical surface of the retina,
-and therefore of course perpendicular to the surface. In
-speaking of 'the inverted image,' it has always been
-supposed to be determined by such lines; and though the
-point where they intersect may not have been ascertained
-with exactness by previous physiologists, the philosophical
-view of the matter was not in any degree vitiated by this
-imperfection.]
-
-8. _Second Paradox of Vision. Single Vision._--(1.) _Small
-or Distant Objects._--The other difficulty, why with two
-images on the retina we see only one object, is of a much
-more real and important kind. This effect is manifestly
-limited by certain circumstances of a very precise nature;
-for if we direct our eyes at an object which is very near
-the eye, we see {310} all other objects double. The fact is
-not, therefore, that we are incapable of receiving two
-impressions from the two images, but that, under certain
-conditions, the two impressions form one. A little attention
-shows us that these conditions are, that with both eyes we
-should look at the same object; and again, we find that to
-look at an object with either eye, is to direct the eye so
-that the image falls on or near a particular point about the
-middle of the retina. Thus these middle points in the two
-retinas correspond, and we see an image single when the two
-images fall on the corresponding points.
-
-Again, as each eye judges of position, and as the two eyes
-judge similarly, an object will be seen in the same place by
-one eye and by the other, when the two images which it
-produces are _similarly situated_ with regard to the
-_corresponding points_ of the retina[9\4].
-
-[Note 9\4: The explanation of single vision with two eyes
-may be put in another form. Each eye judges immediately of
-the relative position of all objects within the field of its
-direct vision. Therefore when we look with both eyes at a
-_distant_ prospect (so distant that the distance between the
-eyes is small in comparison) the two prospects, being
-similar collections of forms, will coincide altogether, if a
-corresponding point in one and in the other coincide. If
-this be the case, the two images of every object will fall
-upon corresponding points of the retina, and will appear
-single.
-
-If the two prospects seen by the two eyes do not exactly
-coincide, in consequence of nearness of the objects, or
-distortion of the eyes, but if they nearly coincide, the
-stronger image of an object absorbs the weaker, and the
-object is seen single; yet modified by the combination, as
-will be seen when we speak of the single vision of near
-objects. When the two images of an object are considerably
-apart, we see it double.
-
-This explanation is not different in substance from the one
-given in the text; but perhaps it is better to avoid the
-assertion that the law of corresponding points is 'a
-distinct and original principle of our constitution,' as I
-had stated in the first edition. The simpler mode of stating
-the law of our constitution appears to be to say, that each
-eye determines similarly the position of objects; and that
-when the positions of an object, as seen by the two eyes,
-coincide (or nearly coincide) the object is seen single.]
-
-This is the Law of Single Vision, at least so far as regards
-small objects; namely, objects so small that in
-contemplating them we consider their position only, {311}
-and not their solid dimensions. Single vision in such cases
-is a result of the law of vision simply: and it is a mistake
-to call in, as some have done, the influence of habit and of
-acquired judgments, in order to determine the result in such
-cases.
-
-To ascribe the apparent singleness of objects to the
-impressions of vision corrected by the experience of
-touch[10\4], would be to assert that a person who had not
-been in the habit of handling what he saw, would see all
-objects double; and also, to assert that a person beginning
-with the double world which vision thus offers to him,
-would, by the continued habit of handling objects, gradually
-and at last learn to see them single. But all the facts of
-the case show such suppositions to be utterly fantastical.
-No one can, in this case, go back from the habitual judgment
-of the singleness of objects, to the original and direct
-perception of their doubleness, as the draughtsman goes back
-from judgments to perception, in representing solid
-distances and forms by means of perspective pictures. No one
-can point out any case in which the habit is imperfectly
-formed; even children of the most tender age look at an
-object with both eyes, and see it as one.
-
-[Note 10\4: See Brown, vol. ii. p. 81.]
-
-In cases when the eyes are distorted (in squinting), one eye
-only is used, or if both are employed, there is double
-vision; and thus any derangement of the correspondence of
-motion in the two eyes will produce double-sightedness.
-
-Brown is one of those[11\4] who assert that two images
-suggest a single object because we have _always found_ two
-images to belong to a single object. He urges as an
-illustration, that the _two_ words 'he conquered,' by custom
-excite exactly the same notion as the _one_ Latin word
-'vicit;' and thus that two visual images, by the effect of
-habit, produce the same belief of a single object as one
-tactual impression. But in order to make this pretended
-illustration of any value, it ought to be true that when a
-person has thoroughly learnt the Latin language, he can no
-longer distinguish {312} any separate meaning in 'he' and in
-'conquered.' We can by no effort perceive the double
-sensation, when we look _at_ the object with the two eyes.
-Those who squint, learn by habit to see objects single: but
-the habit which they acquire is that of attending to the
-impressions of one eye only at once, not of combining the
-two impressions. It is obvious, that if each eye spreads
-before us the same visible scene, with the same objects and
-the same relations of place, then, if one object in each
-scene coincide, the whole of the two visible impressions
-will be coincident. And here the remarkable circumstance is,
-that not only each eye judges for itself of the relations of
-position which come within its field of view; but that there
-is a superior and more comprehensive faculty which combines
-and compares the two fields of view; which asserts or denies
-their coincidence; which contemplates, as in a relative
-position to one another, these two visible worlds, in which
-all other relative position is given. This power of
-confronting two sets of visible images and figured spaces
-before a purely intellectual tribunal, is one of the most
-remarkable circumstances in the sense of vision.
-
-[Note 11\4: _Lectures_, vol. ii. p. 81.]
-
-9. (2.) _Near Objects._--We have hitherto spoken of the
-singleness of objects whose images occupy corresponding
-positions on the retina of the two eyes. But here occurs a
-difficulty. If an object of moderate size, a small thick
-book for example, be held at a little distance from the
-eyes, it produces an image on the retina of each eye; and
-these two images are perspective representations of the book
-from different points of view, (the positions of the two
-eyes,) and are therefore of different forms. Hence the two
-images cannot occupy corresponding points of the retina
-throughout their whole extent. If the central parts of the
-two images occupy corresponding points, the boundaries of
-the two wall not correspond. How is it then consistent with
-the law above stated that in this case the object appears
-single?
-
-It may be observed, that the two images in such a case will
-differ most widely when the object is not a {313} mere
-surface, but a solid. If a book, for example, be held with
-one of its upright edges towards the face, the right eye
-will see one side more directly than the left eye, and the
-left eye will see another side more directly, and the
-outline of the two images upon the two retinas will exhibit
-this difference. And it may be further observed, that this
-difference in the images received by the two eyes, is a
-plain and demonstrative evidence of the solidity of the
-object seen; since nothing but a solid object could (without
-some special contrivance) produce these different forms of
-the images in the two eyes.
-
-Hence the absence of exact coincidence in the two images on
-the retina is the necessary condition of the solidity of the
-object seen, and must be one of the indications by means of
-which our vision apprehends an object as solid. And that
-this is so, Mr. Wheatstone has proved experimentally, by
-means of some most ingenious and striking contrivances. He
-has devised[12\4] an instrument (the _stereoscope_) by which
-two images (drawn in outline) differing exactly as much as
-the two images of a solid body seen near the face would
-differ, are conveyed, one to one eye, and the other to the
-other. And it is found that when this is effected, the
-object which the images represent is not only seen single,
-but is apprehended as solid with a clearness and reality of
-conviction quite distinct from any impression which a mere
-perspective representation can give.
-
-[Note 12\4: _Phil. Trans._ 1839.]
-
-At the same time it is found that the object is then only
-apprehended as single when the two images are such as are
-capable of being excited by one single object placed in
-solid space, and seen by the two eyes. If the images differ
-more or otherwise than this condition allows, the result is,
-that both are seen, their lines crossing and interfering
-with one another.
-
-It may be observed, too, that if an object be of such large
-size as not to be taken in by a single glance of the eyes,
-it is no longer apprehended as single by a direct act of
-perception; but its parts are looked at {314} separately and
-successively, and the impressions thus obtained are put
-together by a succeeding act of the mind. Hence the objects
-which are directly seen as solid, will be of moderate size;
-in which case it is not difficult to show that the outlines
-of the two images will differ from each other only slightly.
-
-Hence we are led to the following, as the Law of Single
-Vision for _near_ objects:--When the two images in the two
-eyes are situated (part for part) nearly, but not exactly,
-upon corresponding points, the object is apprehended as
-single, if the two images are such as are or would be given
-by a single solid object seen by the two eyes separately:
-and in this case the object is necessarily apprehended as solid.
-
-This law of vision does not contradict that stated above for
-distant objects: for when an object is removed to a
-considerable distance, the images in the two eyes coincide
-exactly, and the object is seen as single, though without
-any direct apprehension of its solidity. The first law is a
-special case of the second. Under the condition of _exactly_
-corresponding points, we have the perception of singleness,
-but no evidence of solidity. Under the condition of _nearly_
-corresponding points, we may have the perception of
-singleness, and with it, of solidity.
-
-We have before noted it as an important feature in our
-visual perception, that while we have two distinct
-impressions upon the sense, which we can contemplate
-separately and alternately, (the impressions on the two
-eyes,) we have a higher perceptive faculty which can
-recognize these two impressions, exactly similar to each
-other, as only two images of one and the same assemblage of
-objects. But we now see that the faculty by which we
-perceive visible objects can do much more than this:--it can
-not only unite two impressions, and recognize them as
-belonging to one object in virtue of their coincidence, but
-it can also unite and identify them, even when they do not
-exactly coincide. It can correct and adjust their small
-difference, so that they are both apprehended as
-representations of the same figure. It can infer from them a
-real form, not {315} agreeing with either of them; and a
-solid space, which they are quite incapable of exemplifying.
-The visual faculty decides whether or not the two ocular
-images can be pictures of the same solid object, and if they
-can, it undoubtingly and necessarily accepts them as being
-so. This faculty operates as if it had the power of calling
-before it all possible solid figures, and of ascertaining by
-trial whether any of those will, at the same time, fit both
-the outlines which are given by the sense. It assumes the
-reality of solid space, and, if it be possible, reconciles
-the appearances with that reality. And thus an activity of
-the mind of a very remarkable and peculiar kind is exercised
-in the most common act of seeing.
-
-10. It may be said that this doctrine, of such a visual
-faculty as has been described, is very vague and obscure,
-since we are not told what are its limits. It adjusts and
-corrects figures which _nearly_ coincide, so as to identify
-them. But _how_ nearly, it may be asked, must the figures
-approach each other, in order that this adjustment may be
-possible? What discrepance renders impossible the
-reconcilement of which we speak? Is it not impossible to
-give a definite answer to these questions, and therefore
-impossible to lay down definitely such laws of vision as we
-have stated? To this I reply, that the indefiniteness thus
-objected to us, is no new difficulty, but one with which
-philosophers are familiar, and to which they are already
-reconciled. It is, in fact, no other than the indefiniteness
-of the limits of distinct vision. How near to the face must
-an object be brought, so that we shall cease to see it
-distinctly? The distance, it will be answered, is
-indefinite: it is different for different persons; and for
-the same person, it varies with the degree of effort,
-attention, and habit. But this indefiniteness is only the
-indefiniteness, in another form, of the deviation of the two
-ocular images from one another: and in reply to the question
-concerning them we must still say, as before, that in
-doubtful cases, the power of apprehending an object as
-single, when this _can_ be done, will vary with effort,
-attention, and habit. The assumption {316} that the apparent
-object exists as a real figure, in real space, is to be
-verified, if possible; but, in extreme cases, from the
-unfitness of the point of view, or from any other cause of
-visual confusion or deception, the existence of a real
-object corresponding to the appearance may be doubtful; as
-in any other kind of perception it may be doubtful whether
-our senses, under disadvantageous circumstances, give us
-true information. The vagueness of the limits, then, within
-which this visual faculty can be successfully exercised, is
-no valid argument against the existence of the faculty, or
-the truth of the law which we have stated concerning its
-action.
-
-
-SECT. IV.--_The Perception of Visible Figure._
-
-11. _Visible Figure._--There is one tenet on the subject of
-vision which appears to me so extravagant and
-unphilosophical, that I should not have thought it necessary
-to notice it, if it had not been recently promulgated by a
-writer of great acuteness in a book which has obtained, for
-a metaphysical work, considerable circulation. I speak of
-Brown's opinion[13\4] that we have no immediate perception
-of visible figure. I confess myself unable to comprehend
-fully the doctrine which he would substitute in the place of
-the one commonly received. He states it thus[14\4]: 'When
-the simple affection of sight is blended with the ideas of
-suggestion [those arising from touch, &c.] in what are
-termed the acquired perceptions of vision, as, for example,
-in the perception of a sphere, it is colour only which is
-blended with the large convexity, and not a small coloured
-plane.' The doctrine which Brown asserts in this and similar
-passages, appears to be, that we do not by vision perceive
-_both_ colour and _figure_; but that the colour which we see
-is blended with the figure which we learn the existence of
-by other means, as by touch. But if this were possible when
-we can call in other perceptions, how is it possible when we
-cannot or do not touch the object? {317} Why does the moon
-appear round, gibbous, or horned? What sense besides vision
-suggests to us the idea of her figure? And even in objects
-which we can reach, what is that circumstance in the sense
-of vision which suggests to us that the colour belongs to
-the sphere, except that we see the colour where we see the
-sphere? If we do not see figure, we do not see position; for
-figure is the relative position of the parts of a boundary.
-If we do not see position, why do we ascribe the yellow
-colour to the sphere on our left, rather than to the cube on
-our right? We _associate_ the colour with the object, says
-Dr. Brown; but if his opinion were true, we could not
-associate two colours with two objects, for we could not
-apprehend the colours as occupying two different places.
-
-[Note 13\4: _Lectures_, vol. ii. p. 82.]
-
-[Note 14\4: _Ib._ vol. ii. p. 90.]
-
-The whole of Brown's reasoning on this subject is so
-irreconcilable with the first facts of vision, that it is
-difficult to conceive how it could proceed from a person who
-has reasoned with great acuteness concerning touch. In order
-to prove his assertion, he undertakes to examine the only
-reasons which, he says[15\4], he can imagine for believing
-the immediate perception of visible figure: (1) That it is
-absolutely impossible, in our present sensations of sight,
-to separate colour from extension; and (2) That there are,
-in fact, figures on the retina corresponding to the apparent
-figures of objects.
-
-[Note 15\4: _Lectures_, vol. ii. p. 83.]
-
-On the subject of the first reason, he says, that the figure
-which we perceive as associated with colour, is the real,
-and not the apparent figure. 'Is there,' he asks, 'the
-slightest consciousness of a perception of visible figure,
-corresponding to the affected portion of the retina?' To
-which, though he seems to think an affirmative answer
-impossible, we cannot hesitate to reply, that there is
-undoubtedly such a consciousness; that though obscured by
-being made the ground of habitual inference as to the real
-figure, this consciousness is constantly referred to by the
-draughtsman, and easily recalled by any one. We may separate
-colour, he says {318} again[16\4], from the figures on the
-retina, as we may separate it from length, breadth, and
-thickness, which we do not see. But this is altogether
-false: we cannot separate colour from length, breadth, and
-thickness, _in any other way_, than by transferring it to
-the visible figure which we do see. He cannot, he allows,
-separate the colour from the visible form of the trunk of a
-large oak; but just as little, he thinks, can he separate it
-from the convex mass of the trunk, which (it is allowed on
-all hands) he does not immediately see. But in this he is
-mistaken: for if he were to make a _picture_ of the oak, he
-would separate the colour from the convex shape, which he
-does not imitate, but he could not separate it from the
-visible figure, which he does imitate; and he would then
-perceive that the fact that he _has not_ an immediate
-perception of the convex form, is necessarily connected with
-the fact that he _has_ an immediate perception of the
-apparent figure; so far is the rejection of immediate
-perception in the former case from being a reason for
-rejecting it in the latter.
-
-[Note 16\4: _Lectures_, vol. ii. p. 84.]
-
-Again, with regard to the second argument. It does not, he
-says, follow, that because a certain figured portion of the
-retina is affected by light, we should see such a figure;
-for if a certain figured portion of the olfactory organ were
-affected by odours, we should not acquire by smell any
-perception of such figure[17\4]. This is merely to say, that
-because we do not perceive position and figure by one sense,
-we cannot do so by another sense. But this again is
-altogether erroneous. It is an office of our sight to inform
-us of position, and consequently of figure; for this
-purpose, the organ is so constructed that the position of
-the object determines the position of the point of the
-retina affected. There is nothing of this kind in the organ
-of smell; objects in different positions and of different
-forms do not affect different parts of the olfactory nerve,
-or portions of different shape. Different objects, remote
-from each other, if perceived by smell, affect the same
-{319} part of the olfactory organs. This is all quite
-intelligible; for it is not the office of smell to inform us
-of position. Of what use or meaning would be the curious and
-complex structure of the eye, if it gave us only such vague
-and wandering notions of the colours and forms of the
-flowers in a garden, as we receive from their odours when we
-walk among them blindfold? It is, as we have said, the
-_prerogative_ of vision to apprehend position: the places of
-objects on the retina give this information. We do not
-suppose that the affection of a certain shape of nervous
-expanse will necessarily and in all cases give us the
-impression of figure; but we know that in vision it does;
-and it is clear that if we did not acquire our acquaintance
-with visible figure in this way, we could not acquire it in
-any way[18\4].
-
-[Note 17\4: _Ib._ p. 87.]
-
-[Note 18\4: When Brown says further (p. 87), that we can
-indeed show the image in the dissected eye; but that 'it is
-not in the dissected eye that vision takes place;' it is
-difficult to see what his drift is. Does he doubt that there
-is an image formed in the living as completely as in the
-dissected eye?]
-
-The whole of this strange mistake of Brown's appears to
-arise from the fault already noticed;--that of considering
-the image on the retina as the _object_ instead of the
-_means_ of vision. This indeed is what he says: 'the true
-object of vision is not the distant body itself, but the
-light that has reached the expansive termination of the
-optic nerve[19\4].' Even if this were so, we do not see why
-we should not perceive the position of the impression on
-this expanded nerve. But as we have already said, the
-impression on the nerve is the means of vision, and enables
-us to assign a place, or at least a direction, to the object
-from which the light proceeds, and thus makes vision
-possible. Brown, indeed, pursues his own peculiar view till
-he involves the subject in utter confusion. Thus he
-says[20\4], 'According to the common theory [that figure can
-be perceived by the eye,] a visible sphere is at once to my
-perception convex and plane; and if the sphere be a one, it
-is perceived at once to be a sphere of {320} many feet in
-diameter, and a plane circular surface of the diameter of a
-quarter of an inch.' It is easy to deduce these and greater
-absurdities, if we proceed on his strange and baseless
-supposition that the object and the image on the retina are
-_both_ perceived. But who is conscious of the image on the
-retina in any other way than as he sees the object by means
-of it?
-
-[Note 19\4: _Lectures_, vol. ii. p. 57.]
-
-[Note 20\4: _Ib._ vol. ii. p. 89.]
-
-Brown seems to have imagined that he was analysing the
-perception of figure 'in the same manner in which Berkeley
-had analyzed the perception of distance. He ought to have
-recollected that such an undertaking, to be successful,
-required him to show _what_ elements he analyzed it _into_.
-Berkeley analyzed the perception of real figure into the
-interpretation of visible figure according to certain rules
-which he distinctly stated. Brown analyzes the perception of
-visible figure into no elements. Berkeley says, that we do
-not directly perceive distance, but that we perceive
-something else, from which we infer distance, namely,
-visible figure and colour, and our own efforts in seeing;
-Brown says, that we do not see figure, but infer it; what
-then do we see, which we infer it from? To this he offers no
-answer. He asserts the seeming perception of visible figure
-to be a result of 'association;'--of 'suggestion.' But what
-meaning can we attach to this? Suggestion requires something
-which suggests; and not a hint is given what it is which
-suggests position. Association implies two things
-associated; what is the sensation which we associate with
-form? What is that visual perception which is not figure,
-and which we mistake for figure? What perception is it that
-suggests a square to the eye? What impressions are those
-which have been associated with a visible triangle, so that
-the revival of the impressions revives the notion of the
-triangle? Brown has nowhere pointed out such perceptions and
-impressions; nor indeed was it possible for him to do so;
-for the only visual perceptions which he allows to remain,
-those of colour, most assuredly do not suggest visible
-figures by their differences; red is not associated with
-square rather than with round, or with round rather than
-square. On the contrary, the {321} eye, constructed in a
-very complex and wonderful manner in order that it may give
-to us directly the perception of position as well as of
-colour, has it for one of its prerogatives to give us this
-information; and the perception of the relative position of
-each part of the visible boundary of an object constitutes
-the perception of its apparent figure; which faculty we
-cannot deny to the eye without rejecting the plain and
-constant evidence of our senses, making the mechanism of the
-eye unmeaning, confounding the object with the means of
-vision, and rendering the mental process of vision utterly
-unintelligible.
-
-Having sufficiently discussed the processes of perception, I
-now return to the consideration of the Ideas which these
-processes assume.
-
-
-
-{{322}}
-CHAPTER III.
-
-SUCCESSIVE ATTEMPTS AT THE SCIENTIFIC APPLICATION OF THE
-IDEA OF A MEDIUM.
-
-
-1. IN what precedes, we have shown by various considerations
-that we necessarily and universally assume the perception of
-secondary qualities to take place by means of a medium
-interjacent between the object and the person perceiving.
-Perception is affected by various peculiarities, according
-to the nature of the quality perceived: but in all cases a
-medium is equally essential to the process.
-
-This principle, which, as we have seen, is accepted as
-evident by the common understanding of mankind, is confirmed
-by all additional reflection and discipline of the mind, and
-is the foundation of all the theories which have been
-proposed concerning the processes by which the perception
-takes place, and concerning the modifications of the
-qualities thus perceived. The medium, and the mode in which
-the impression is conveyed through the medium, seem to be
-different for different qualities; but the existence of the
-medium leads to certain necessary conditions or
-alternatives, which have successively made their appearance
-in science, in the course of the attempts of men to theorize
-concerning the principal secondary qualities, sound, light,
-and heat. We must now point out some of the ways, at first
-imperfect and erroneous, in which the consequences of the
-fundamental assumption were traced.
-
-2. _Sound._--In all cases the medium of sensation, whatever
-it is, is supposed to produce the effect of conveying
-secondary qualities to our perception by means of its
-primary qualities. It was conceived to operate {323} by the
-size, form, and motion of its parts. This is a fundamental
-principle of the class of sciences of which we have at
-present to speak.
-
-It was assumed from the first, as we have seen in the
-passage lately quoted from Aristotle[21\4], that in the
-conveyance of _sound_, the medium of communication was the
-air. But although the first theorists were right so far,
-that circumstance did not prevent their going entirely wrong
-when they had further to determine the nature of the
-process. It was conceived by Aristotle that the air acted
-after the manner of a rigid body;--like a staff, which,
-receiving an impulse at one end, transmits it to the other.
-Now this is altogether an erroneous view of the manner in
-which the air conveys the impulse by which sound is
-perceived. An approach was made to the true view of this
-process, by assimilating it to the diffusion of the little
-circular waves which are produced on the surface of still
-water when a stone is dropt into it. These little waves
-begin from the point thus disturbed, and run outwards,
-expanding on every side, in concentric circles, till they
-are lost. The propagation of sound through the air from the
-point where it is produced, was compared by Vitruvius to
-this diffusion of circular waves in water; and thus the
-notion of a propagation of impulse by the _waves_ of a fluid
-was introduced, in the place of the former notion of the
-impulse of an unyielding body.
-
-[Note 21\4: _Supr._ p. 297.]
-
-But though, taking an enlarged view of the nature of the
-progress of a wave, this is a just representation of the
-motion of air in conveying sound, we cannot suppose that the
-process was, at the period of which we speak, rightly
-understood. For the waves of water were contemplated only as
-affecting the surface of the water; and as the air has no
-surface, the communication must take place by means of an
-internal motion, which can bear only a remote and obscure
-resemblance to the waves which we see. And even with regard
-to the waves of water, the mechanism by which they are {324}
-produced and transferred was not at all understood; so that
-the comparison employed by Vitruvius must be considered
-rather as a loose analogy than as an exact scientific
-explanation.
-
-No correct account of such motions was given, till the
-formation of the science of Mechanics in modern times had
-enabled philosophers to understand more distinctly the mode
-in which motion is propagated through a fluid, and to
-discern the forces which the process calls into play, so as
-to continue the motion once begun. Newton introduced into
-this subject the exact and rigorous conception of an
-_Undulation_, which is the true key to the explanation of
-impulses conveyed through a fluid.
-
-Even at the present day, the right apprehension of the
-nature of an Undulation transmitted through a fluid is found
-to be very difficult for all persons except those whose
-minds have been duly disciplined by mathematical studies.
-When we see a wave run along the surface of water, we are
-apt to imagine at first that a portion of the fluid is
-transferred bodily from one place to another. But with a
-little consideration we may easily satisfy ourselves that
-this is not so: for if we look at a field of standing corn,
-when a breeze blows over it, we see waves like those of
-water run along its surface. Yet it is clear that in this
-case the separate stalks of corn only bend backwards and
-forwards, and no portion of the grain is really conveyed
-from one part of the field to the other. This is obvious
-even to popular apprehension. The poet speaks of
- . . . . The rye,
- That stoops its head when whirlwinds rave
- And springs again in eddying wave
- As each wild gust sweeps by.
-Each particle of the mass in succession has a small motion
-backwards and forwards; and by this means a large ridge made
-by many such particles runs along the mass to any distance.
-This is the true conception of an undulation in general.
-
-Thus, when an Undulation is propagated in a fluid, it is not
-_matter_, but _form_, which is transmitted from {325} one
-place to another. The particles along the line of each wave
-assume a certain arrangement, and this arrangement passes
-from one part to another, the particles changing their
-places only within narrow limits, so as to lend themselves
-successively to the arrangements by which the successive
-waves, and the intervals between the waves, are formed.
-
-When such an Undulation is propagated through air, the wave
-is composed, not, as in water, of particles which are higher
-than the rest, but of particles which are closer to each
-other than the rest. The wave is not a ridge of elevation,
-but a line of condensation; and as in water we have
-alternately elevated and depressed lines, we have in air
-lines alternately condensed and rarefied. And the motion of
-the particles is not, as in water, up and down, in a
-direction transverse to that of the wave which runs
-forwards; in the motion of an undulation through air the
-motion of each particle is alternately forwards and
-backwards, while the motion of the undulation is constantly
-forwards.
-
-This precise and detailed account of the Undulatory Motion
-of air by which sound is transmitted was first given by
-Newton. He further attempted to determine the motions of the
-separate particles, and to point out the force by which each
-particle affects the next, so as to continue the progress of
-the undulation once begun. The motions of each particle must
-be oscillatory; he assumed the oscillations to be governed
-by the simplest law of oscillation which had come under the
-notice of mathematicians, (that of small vibrations of a
-pendulum;) and he proved that in this manner the forces
-which are called into play by the contraction and expansion
-of the parts of the elastic fluid are such as the
-continuance of the motion requires.
-
-Newton's proof of the exact law of Oscillatory Motion of the
-aërial particles was not considered satisfactory by
-succeeding mathematicians; for it was found that the same
-result, the development of forces adequate to continue the
-motion, would follow if any other law of the motion were
-assumed. Cramer proved this by a sort of _parody_ on
-Newton's proof, in which, by the {326} alteration of a few
-phrases in this formula of demonstration, it was made to
-establish an entirely different conclusion.
-
-But the general conception of an Undulation as presented by
-Newton was, as from its manifest mechanical truth it could
-not fail to be, accepted by all mathematicians; and in
-proportion as the methods of calculating the motions of
-fluids were further improved, the necessary consequences of
-this conception, in the communication of sound through air,
-were traced by unexceptionable reasoning. This was
-especially done by Euler and Lagrange, whose memoirs on such
-motions of fluids are some of the most admirable examples
-which exist, of refined mathematical methods applied to the
-solution of difficult mechanical problems.
-
-But the great step in the formation of the theory of sound
-was undoubtedly that which we have noticed, the introduction
-of the Conception of an Undulation such as we have attempted
-to describe it:--a state, condition, or arrangement of the
-particles of a fluid, which is transferred from one part of
-space to another by means of small motions of the particles,
-altogether distinct from the movement of the Undulation
-itself. This is a conception which is not obvious to common
-apprehension. It appears paradoxical at first sight to speak
-of a large _wave_ (as the tide-wave) running up a river at
-the rate of twenty miles an hour, while the _stream_ of the
-river is all the while flowing downwards. Yet this is a very
-common fact. And the conception of such a motion must be
-fully mastered by all who would reason rightly concerning
-the mechanical transmission of impressions through a medium.
-
-We have described the motion of sound as produced by small
-motions of the particle forwards and backwards, while the
-waves, or condensed and rarefied lines, move constantly
-forwards. It may be asked what right we have to suppose the
-motion to be of this kind, since when sound is heard, no
-such motions of the particles of air can be observed, even
-by refined methods of observation. Thus Bacon declares
-himself against the hypothesis of such a vibration, since,
-as he remarks, it {327} cannot be perceived in any visible
-impression upon the flame of a candle. And to this we reply,
-that the supposition of this Vibration is made in virtue of
-a principle which is involved in the original assumption of
-a medium; namely, That _a Medium, in conveying Secondary
-qualities, operates by means of its Primary qualities_, the
-bulk, figure, motion, and other mechanical properties of its
-parts. This is an Axiom belonging to the Idea of a Medium.
-In virtue of this axiom it is demonstrable that the motion
-of the air, when any how disturbed, must be such as is
-supposed in our acoustical reasonings. For the elasticity of
-the parts of the air, called into play by its expansion and
-contraction, lead, by a mechanical necessity, to such a
-motion as we have described. We may add that, by proper
-contrivances, this motion may be made perceptible in its
-visible effects. Thus the theory of sound, as an impression
-conveyed through air, is established upon evident general
-principles, although the mathematical calculations which are
-requisite to investigate its consequences are, some of them,
-of a very recondite kind.
-
-3. _Light._--The early attempts to explain Vision
-represented it as performed by means of material rays
-proceeding _from_ the eye, by the help of which the eye felt
-out the form and other visible qualities of an object, as a
-blind man might do with his staff. But this opinion could
-not keep its ground long: for it did not even explain the
-fact that light is necessary to vision. Light, as a peculiar
-medium, was next assumed as the machinery of vision; but the
-mode in which the impression was conveyed through the medium
-was left undetermined, and no advance was made towards sound
-theory, on that subject, by the ancients.
-
-In modern times, when the prevalent philosophy began to
-assume a mechanical turn (as in the theories of Descartes),
-light was conceived to be a material substance which is
-emitted from luminous bodies, and which is also conveyed
-from all bodies to the eye, so as to render them visible.
-The various changes of direction by which the rays of light
-are affected, (reflection, {328} refraction, &c.,) Descartes
-explained, by considering the particles of light as small
-globules, which change their direction when they impinge
-upon other bodies, according to the laws of Mechanics.
-Newton, with a much more profound knowledge of Mechanics
-than Descartes possessed, adopted, in the most mature of his
-speculations, nearly the same view of the nature of light;
-and endeavoured to show that reflection, refraction, and
-other properties of light, might be explained as the effects
-which certain forces, emanating from the particles of
-bodies, produce upon the luminiferous globules.
-
-But though some of the properties of light could thus be
-accounted for by the assumption of particles emitted from
-luminous bodies, and reflected or refracted by forces, other
-properties came into view which would not admit of the same
-explanation. The phenomena of _diffraction_ (the fringes
-which accompany shadows) could never be truly represented by
-such an hypothesis, in spite of many attempts which were
-made. And the _colours of thin plates_, which show the rays
-of light to be affected by an alternation of two different
-conditions at small intervals along their length, led Newton
-himself to incline, often and strongly, to some hypothesis
-of undulation. The _double refraction_ of Iceland spar, a
-phenomenon in itself very complex, could, it was found by
-Huyghens, be expressed with great simplicity by a certain
-hypothesis of undulations.
-
-Two hypotheses of the nature of the luminiferous medium were
-thus brought under consideration; the one representing Light
-as Matter emitted from the luminous object, the other, as
-Undulations propagated through a fluid. These two hypotheses
-remained in presence of each other during the whole of the
-last century, neither of them gaining any material advantage
-over the other, though the greater part of mathematicians,
-following Newton, embraced the emission theory. But at the
-beginning of the present century, an additional class of
-phenomena, those of the _interference_ of two rays of light,
-were brought under {329} consideration by Dr. Young; and
-these phenomena were strongly in favour of the undulatory
-theory, while they were irreconcilable with the hypothesis
-of emission. If it had not been for the original bias of
-Newton and his school to the other side, there can be little
-doubt that from this period light as well as sound would
-have been supposed to be propagated by undulations; although
-in this case it was necessary to assume as the vehicle of
-such undulations a special medium or _ether_. Several points
-of the phenomena of vision no doubt remained unexplained by
-the undulatory theory, as absorption, and the natural
-colours of bodies; but such facts, though they did not
-confirm, did not evidently contradict the theory of a
-Luminiferous Ether; and the facts which such a theory did
-explain, it explained with singular happiness and accuracy.
-
-But before this Undulatory Theory could be generally
-accepted, it was presented in an entirely new point of view
-by being combined with the facts of _polarization_. The
-general idea of polarization must be illustrated hereafter;
-but we may here remark that Young and Fresnel, who had
-adopted the undulatory theory, after being embarrassed for
-some time by the new facts which were thus presented to
-their notice, at last saw that these facts might be
-explained by conceiving the vibrations to be transverse to
-the ray, the motions of the particles being not backwards
-and forwards in the line in which the impulse travels, but
-to the right and left of that line. This conception of
-_transverse vibrations_, though quite unforeseen, had
-nothing in it which was at all difficult to reconcile with
-the general notion of an undulation. We have described an
-undulation, or wave, as a certain condition or arrangement
-of the particles of the fluid successively transferred from
-one part of space to another: and it is easily conceivable
-that this arrangement or wave may be produced by a lateral
-transfer of the particles from their quiescent positions.
-This conception of transverse vibrations being accepted, it
-was found that the explanation of the phenomena of
-polarization and of those of interference led to the same
-theory {330} with a correspondence truly wonderful; and this
-coincidence in the views, collected from two quite distinct
-classes of phenomena, was justly considered as an almost
-demonstrative evidence of the truth of this undulatory
-theory.
-
-It remained to be considered whether the doctrine of
-transverse vibrations in a fluid could be reconciled with
-the principles of Mechanics. And it was found that by making
-certain suppositions, in which no inherent improbability
-existed, the hypothesis of transverse vibrations would
-explain the laws, both of interference and of polarization
-of light, in air and in crystals of all kinds, with a
-surprizing fertility and fidelity.
-
-Thus the Undulatory Theory of Light, like the Undulatory
-Theory of Sound, is recommended by its conformity to the
-fundamental principle of the Secondary Mechanical Sciences,
-that the medium must be supposed to transmit its peculiar
-impulses according to the laws of Mechanics. Although no one
-had previously dreamt of qualities being conveyed through a
-medium by such a process, yet when it is once suggested as
-the only mode of explaining some of the phenomena, there is
-nothing to prevent our accepting it entirely, as a
-satisfactory theory for all the known laws of Light.
-
-4. _Heat._--With regard to Heat as with regard to Light, a
-fluid medium was necessarily assumed as the vehicle of the
-property. During the last century, this medium was supposed
-to be an emitted fluid. And many of the ascertained Laws of
-Heat, those which prevail with regard to its radiation more
-especially, were well explained by this hypothesis[22\4].
-Other effects of heat, however, as for instance _latent
-heat_[23\4], and the change of _consistence_ of
-bodies[24\4], were not satisfactorily brought into connexion
-with the hypothesis; while {331} _conduction_[25\4], which
-at first did not appear to result from the fundamental
-assumption, was to a certain extent explained as internal
-radiation.
-
-[Note 22\4: See the Account of the Theory of Exchanges,
-_Hist. Ind. Sc._ b. x. c. i. sect. 2.]
-
-[Note 23\4: _Ib._ c. ii. sect. 3.]
-
-[Note 24\4: _Ib._ c. ii. sect. 2.]
-
-[Note 25\4: _Ib._ c. i. sect. 7.]
-
-But it was by no means clear that an Undulatory Theory of
-Heat might not be made to explain these phenomena equally
-well. Several philosophers inclined to such a theory; and
-finally, Ampère showed that the doctrine that the heat of a
-body consists in the undulations of its particles propagated
-by means of the undulations of a medium, might be so
-adjusted as to explain all which the theory of emission
-could explain, and moreover to account for facts and laws
-which were out of the reach of that theory. About the same
-time it was discovered by Prof. Forbes and M. Nobili that
-radiant heat is, under certain circumstances, polarized. Now
-polarization had been most satisfactorily explained by means
-of transverse undulations in the case of light; while all
-attempts to modify the emission theory so as to include
-polarization in it, had been found ineffectual. Hence this
-discovery was justly considered as lending great countenance
-to the opinion that Heat consists in the vibrations of its
-proper medium.
-
-But what is this medium? Is it the same by which the
-impressions of Light are conveyed? This is a difficult
-question; or rather it is one which we cannot at present
-hope to answer with certainty. No doubt the connexion
-between Light and Heat is so intimate and constant, that we
-can hardly refrain from considering them as affections of
-the same medium. But instead of attempting to erect our
-systems on such loose and general views of connexion, it is
-rather the business of the philosophers of the present day
-to determine the laws of the operation of heat, and its real
-relation to light, in order that we may afterwards be able
-to connect the theories of the two qualities. Perhaps in a
-more advanced state of our knowledge we may be able to state
-it as an Axiom, that two Secondary Qualities, which are
-intimately connected in their causes and effects, must be
-affections of the same Medium. {332} But at present it does
-not appear safe to proceed upon such a principle, although
-many writers, in their speculations both concerning Light
-and Heat, and concerning other properties, have not
-hesitated to do so.
-
-Some other consequences follow from the Idea of a Medium
-which must be the subject of another chapter.
-
-
-
-{{333}}
-CHAPTER IV.
-
-OF THE MEASURE OF SECONDARY QUALITIES.
-
-
-SECT. I.--_Scales of Qualities in general._
-
-THE ultimate object of our investigation in each of the
-Secondary Mechanical Sciences, is the nature of the
-processes by which the special impressions of sound, light,
-and heat, are conveyed, and the modifications of which these
-processes are susceptible. And of this investigation, as we
-have seen, the necessary basis is the principle, that these
-impressions are transmitted by means of a medium. But before
-we arrive at this ultimate object, we may find it necessary
-to occupy ourselves with several intermediate objects:
-before we discover the _cause_, it may be necessary to
-determine the _laws_ of the phenomena. Even if we cannot
-immediately ascertain the mechanism of light or heat, it may
-still be interesting and important to arrange and measure
-the effects which we observe.
-
-The idea of a Medium affects our proceeding in this research
-also. We cannot measure Secondary qualities in the same
-manner in which we measure Primary qualities, by a mere
-addition of parts. There is this leading and remarkable
-difference, that while both classes of qualities are
-susceptible of changes of magnitude, primary qualities
-increase by addition of _extension_, secondary, by
-augmentation of _intensity_. A space is doubled when another
-equal space is placed by its side; one weight joined to
-another makes up the sum of the two. But when one degree of
-warmth is combined with another, or one shade of red colour
-with another, we cannot in like manner talk of the _sum_.
-The component parts do not evidently retain their {334}
-separate existence; we cannot separate a strong green colour
-into two weaker ones, as we can separate a large force into
-two smaller. The increase is absorbed into the previous
-amount, and is no longer in evidence as a part of the whole.
-And this is the difference which has given birth to the two
-words _extended_, and _intense_. That is extended which has
-'partes extra partes,' parts outside of parts: that is
-intense which becomes stronger by some indirect and
-unapparent increase of agency, like the stretching of the
-internal springs of a machine, as the term _intense_
-implies. Extended magnitudes can at will be resolved into
-the parts of which they were originally composed, or any
-other which the nature of their extension admits; their
-proportion is apparent; they are directly and at once
-subject to the relations of number. Intensive magnitudes
-cannot be resolved into smaller magnitudes; we can see that
-they differ, but we cannot tell in what proportion; we have
-no direct measure of their quantity. How many times hotter
-than blood is boiling water? The answer cannot be given by
-the aid of our feelings of heat alone.
-
-The difference, as we have said, is connected with the
-fundamental principle that we do not perceive Secondary
-qualities directly, but through a Medium. We have no natural
-apprehension of light, or sound, or heat, as they exist in
-the bodies from which they proceed, but only as they affect
-our organs. We can only measure them, therefore, by some
-_Scale_ supplied by their effects. And thus while extended
-magnitudes, as space, time, are measurable directly and of
-themselves; intensive magnitudes, as brightness, loudness,
-heat, are measurable only by artificial means and
-conventional scales. Space, time, measure themselves: the
-repetition of a smaller space, or time, while it composes a
-larger one, measures it. But for light and heat we must have
-Photometers and Thermometers, which measure something which
-is assumed to be an indication of the quality in question.
-In the one case, the mode of applying the measure, and the
-meaning of the number resulting, are seen by intuition; in
-the {335} other, they are consequences of assumption and
-reasoning. In the one case, they are _Units_, of which the
-extension is made up; in the other, they are _Degrees_ by
-which the intensity ascends.
-
-2. When we discover any property in a sensible quality,
-which at once refers us to number or space, we readily take
-this property as a measure; and thus we make a transition
-from quality to quantity. Thus Ptolemy in the third chapter
-of the First Book of his _Harmonics_ begins thus: 'As to the
-differences which exist in sounds both in _quality_ and in
-_quantity_, if we consider that difference which refers to
-the acuteness and graveness, we cannot at once tell to which
-of the above two classes it belongs, till we have considered
-the causes of such symptoms.' But at the end of the chapter,
-having satisfied himself that grave sounds result from the
-magnitude of the string or pipe, other things being equal,
-he infers, 'Thus the difference of acute and grave appears
-to be a difference of _quantity_.'
-
-In the same manner, in order to form Secondary Mechanical
-Sciences respecting any of the other properties of bodies,
-we must reduce these properties to a dependence upon
-quantity, and thus make them subject to measurement. We
-cannot obtain any sciential truths respecting the comparison
-of sensible qualities, till we have discovered measures and
-scales of the qualities which we have to consider; and
-accordingly, some of the most important steps in such
-sciences have been the establishment of such measures and
-scales, and the invention of the requisite instruments.
-
-The formation of the mathematical sciences which rest upon
-the measures of the intensity of sensible qualities took
-place mainly in the course of the last century. Perhaps we
-may consider Lambert, a mathematician who resided in
-Switzerland, and published about 1750, as the person who
-first clearly felt the importance of establishing such
-sciences. His Photometry, Pyrometry, and Hygrometry, are
-examples of the systematic reduction of sensible qualities
-(light, heat, moisture) to modes of numerical measurement.
-{336}
-
-We now proceed to speak of such modes of measurement with
-regard to the most obvious properties of bodies.
-
-
-SECT. II.--_The Musical Scale._
-
-3. THE establishment of the _Harmonic Canon_, that is, of a
-Scale and Measure of the musical place of notes, in the
-relation of _high_ and _low_, was the first step in the
-science of Harmonics. The perception of the differences and
-relations of musical sounds is the office of the sense of
-hearing; but these relations are fixed, and rendered
-accurately recognizable by artificial means. 'Indeed, in all
-the senses,' as Ptolemy truly says in the opening of his
-Harmonics, 'the sense discovers what is approximately true,
-and receives accuracy from another quarter: the reason
-receives the approximately-true from another quarter, and
-discovers the accurate truth.' We can have no measures of
-sensible qualities which do not ultimately refer to the
-sense;--whether they do this immediately, as when we refer
-Colours to an assumed Standard; or mediately, as when we
-measure Heat by Expansion, having previously found by an
-appeal to sense that the expansion increases with the heat.
-Such relations of sensible qualities cannot be described in
-words, and can only be apprehended by their appropriate
-faculty. The faculty by which the relations of sounds are
-apprehended is a _musical ear_ in the largest acceptation of
-the term. In this signification the faculty is nearly
-universal among men; for all persons have musical ears
-sufficiently delicate to understand and to imitate the
-modulations corresponding to various emotions in speaking;
-which modulations depend upon the succession of acuter and
-graver tones. These are the relations now spoken of, and
-these are plainly perceived by persons who have very
-imperfect musical ears, according to the common use of the
-phrase. But the relations of tones which occur in speaking
-are somewhat indefinite; and in forming that musical scale
-which is the basis of our science upon the subject, we {337}
-take the most definite and marked of such relations of
-notes; such as occur, not in speaking but in singing. Those
-musical relations of two sounds which we call the _octave_,
-the _fifth_, the _fourth_, the _third_, are recognized after
-a short familiarity with them. These _chords_ or _intervals_
-are perceived to have each a peculiar character, which
-separates them from the relations of two sounds taken at
-random, and makes it easy to know them when sung or played
-on an instrument; and for most persons, not difficult to
-sing the sounds in succession exactly, or nearly correct.
-These musical relations, or _concords_, then, are the
-groundwork of our musical series of sounds. But how are we
-to name these indescribable sensible characters? how to
-refer, with unerring accuracy, to a type which exists only
-in our own perceptions? We must have for this purpose a
-_Scale_ and a _Standard_.
-
-The Musical Scale is a series of eight notes, ascending by
-certain steps from the first or key-note to the octave above
-it, each of the notes being fixed by such distinguishable
-musical relations as we have spoken of above. We may call
-these notes C, D, E, F, G, A, B, _c_; and we may then say
-that G is determined by its being a fifth above C; D by its
-being a fourth below G; E by its being a third above C; and
-similarly of the rest. It will be recollected that the terms
-a _fifth_, a _fourth_, a _third_, have hitherto been
-introduced as expressing certain simple and indescribable
-musical relations among sounds, which might have been
-indicated by any other names. Thus we might call the fifth
-the _dominant_, and the fourth the _subdominant_, as is done
-in one part of musical science. But the names we have used,
-which are the common ones, are in fact derived from the
-number of notes which these intervals include in the scale
-obtained in the above manner. The notes, C, D, E, F, G,
-being five, the interval from C to G is a fifth, and so of
-the rest. The fixation of this scale gave the means of
-describing exactly any note which occurs in the scale, and
-the method is easily applicable to notes above and below
-this range; for in a series of sounds higher or lower by an
-octave than {338} this standard series, the ear discovers a
-recurrence of the same relations so exact, that a person may
-sometimes imagine he is producing the same notes as another
-when he is singing the same air an octave higher. Hence the
-next eight notes may be conveniently denoted by a repetition
-of the same letters, as the first; thus, C, D, E, F, G, A,
-B, _c_, _d_, _e_, _f_, _g_, _a_, _b_; and it is easy to
-devise a continuation of such cycles. And other admissible
-notes are designated by a further modification of the
-standard ones, as by making each note _flat_ or _sharp_;
-which modification it is not necessary here to consider,
-since our object is only to show how a standard is
-attainable, and how it serves the ends of science.
-
-We may observe, however, that the above is not an exact
-account of the first, or early Greek scale; for that scale
-was founded on a primary division of the interval of two
-octaves (the extreme range which it admitted) into five
-_tetrachords_, each tetrachord including the interval of a
-fourth. All the notes of this series had different names
-borrowed from this division[26\4]; thus _mese_ was the
-middle or key-note; the note below it was _lichanos mesôn_,
-the next below was _parypate mesôn_, the next lower, _hypate
-mesôn_. The fifth above _mese_ was _nete diazeugmenôn_, the
-octave was _nete hyperbolæôn_.
-
-[Note 26\4: Burney's _History of Music_, vol. i. p. 28.]
-
-4. But supposing a complete system of such denominations
-established, how could it be with certainty and rigour
-applied? The human ear is fallible, the organs of voice
-imperfectly obedient; if this were not so, there would be no
-such thing as a _good_ ear or a _good_ voice. What means can
-be devised of finding at will a _perfect_ concord, a fifth
-or a fourth? Or supposing such concords fixed by an
-acknowledged authority, how can they be referred to, and the
-authority adduced? How can we enact a Standard of sounds?
-
-A Standard was discovered in the _Monochord_. A musical
-string properly stretched, may be made to produce different
-notes, in proportion as we intercept a longer or shorter
-portion, and make this portion {339} vibrate. The relation
-of the length of the strings which thus sound the two notes
-G and C is fixed and constant, and the same is true of all
-other notes. Hence the musical interval of any notes of
-which we know the places in the musical scale, may be
-reproduced by measuring the lengths of string which are
-known to give them. If C be of the length 180, D is 160, E
-is 144, F is 135, G is 120; and thus the musical relations
-are reduced to numerical relations, and the monochord is a
-complete and perfect _Tonometer_.
-
-We have here taken the length of the string as the measure
-of the tone: but we may observe that there is in us a
-necessary tendency to assume that the ground of this measure
-is to be sought in some ulterior cause; and when we consider
-the matter further, we find this cause in the frequency of
-these vibrations of the string. The truth that the same note
-must result from the same frequency of vibration is readily
-assented to on a slight suggestion of experience. Thus
-Mersenne[27\4], when he undertakes to determine the
-frequency of vibrations of a given sound, says 'Supponendum
-est quoscunque nervos et quaslibet chordas unisonum
-facientes eundem efficere numerum recursuum eodem vel equali
-tempore, quod perpetuâ constat experientiâ.' And he proceeds
-to apply it to cases where experience could not verify this
-assertion, or at least had not verified it, as to that of pipes.
-
-[Note 27\4: _Harmonia_, lib. ii. prop. 19.]
-
-The pursuit of these numerical relations of tones forms the
-science of Harmonics; of which here we do not pretend to
-give an account, but only to show, how the invention of a
-Scale and Nomenclature, a Standard and Measure of the tone
-of sounds, is its necessary basis. We will therefore now
-proceed to speak of another subject; _colour_.
-
-
-SECT. III.--_Scales of Colour._
-
-5. _The Prismatic Scale of Colour._--A SCALE of Colour must
-depend originally upon differences {340} discernible by the
-eye, as a scale of notes depends on differences perceived by
-the ear. In one respect the difficulty is greater in the
-case of the visible qualities, for there are no relations of
-colour which the eye peculiarly singles out and
-distinguishes, as the ear selects and distinguishes an
-octave or a fifth. Hence we are compelled to take an
-arbitrary scale; and we have to find one which is fixed, and
-which includes a proper collection of colours. The
-_prismatic spectrum_, or coloured image produced when a
-small beam of light passes obliquely through any transparent
-surface (as the surface of a prism of glass,) offers an
-obvious Standard as far as it is applicable. Accordingly
-colours have, for various purposes, been designated by their
-place in the spectrum, ever since the time of Newton; and we
-have thus a means of referring to such colours as are
-included in the series _red_, _orange_, _yellow_, _green_,
-_blue_, _violet_, _indigo_, and the intermediate tints.
-
-But this scale is not capable of numerical precision. If the
-spectrum could be exactly defined as to its extremities, and
-if these colours occupied always the same proportional part
-of it, we might describe any colour in the above series by
-the measure of its position. But the fact is otherwise. The
-spectrum is too indefinite in its boundaries to afford any
-distinct point from which we may commence our measures; and
-moreover the spectra produced by different transparent
-bodies differ from each other. Newton had supposed that the
-spectrum and its parts were the same, so long as the
-refraction was the same; but his successors discovered that,
-with the same amount of refraction in different kinds of
-glass, there are different magnitudes of the spectrum; and
-what is still worse with reference to our present purpose,
-that the spectra from different glasses have the colours
-distributed in different proportions. In order, therefore,
-to make the spectrum the scale of colour, we must assume
-some fixed substance; for instance, we may take water, and
-thus a series approaching to the colours of the _rainbow_
-will be our standard. But we should still have an extreme
-difficulty in applying such a rule. The distinctions of
-{341} colour which the terms of common language express, are
-not used with perfect unanimity or with rigorous precision.
-What one person calls _bluish green_ another calls _greenish
-blue_. Nobody can say what is the precise boundary between
-red and orange. Thus the prismatic scale of colour was
-incapable of mathematical exactness, and this inconvenience
-was felt up to our own times.
-
-But this difficulty was removed by a curious discovery of
-Wollaston and Fraunhofer; who found that there are, in the
-solar spectrum, certain fine black Lines which occupy a
-definite place in the series of colours, and can be observed
-with perfect precision. We have now no uncertainty as to
-what coloured light we are speaking of, when we describe it
-as that part of the spectrum in which Fraunhofer's Line C or
-D occurs. And thus, by this discovery, the prismatic
-spectrum of sunlight became, for certain purposes, an exact
-_Chromatometer_.
-
-6. _Newton's Scale of Colours._--Still, such a standard,
-though definite, is arbitrary and seemingly anomalous. The
-lines A, B, C, D, &c., of Fraunhofer's spectrum are
-distributed without any apparent order or law; and we do
-not, in this way, obtain numerical measures, which is what,
-in all cases, we desire to have. Another discovery of
-Newton, however, gives us a spectrum containing the same
-colours as the prismatic spectrum, but produced in another
-way, so that the colours have a numerical relation. I speak
-of the laws of the _Colours of Thin Plates_. The little
-rainbows which we sometimes see in the cracks of broken
-glass are governed by fixed and simple laws. The kind of
-colour produced at any point depends on the thickness of the
-thin plate of air included in the fissure. If the thickness
-be eight-millionths of an inch, the colour is orange, if
-fifteen-millionths of an inch, we have green, and so on; and
-thus these numbers, which succeed each other in a regular
-order from red to indigo, give a numerical measure of each
-colour; which measure, when we pursue the subject, we find
-is one of the bases of all optical theory. The series of
-colours obtained from plates of air of gradually increasing
-thickness is called {342} _Newton's Scale of Colours_; but
-we may observe that this is not precisely what we are here
-speaking of, a scale of _simple_ colours; it is a series
-produced by certain combinations, resulting from the
-repetition of the first spectrum, and is mainly useful as a
-standard for similar phenomena, and not for colour in
-general. The real scale of colour is to be found, as we have
-said, in the numbers which express the thickness of the
-producing film;--in the length of a _fit_ in Newton's
-phraseology, or the length of an _undulation_ in the modern
-theory.
-
-7. _Scales of Impure Colours._--The standards just spoken of
-include (mainly at least) only pure and simple colours; and
-however complete these standards may be for certain objects
-of the science of optics, they are insufficient for other
-purposes. They do not enable us to put in their place mixed
-and impure colours. And there is, in the case of colour, a
-difficulty already noticed, which does not occur in the case
-of sound; two notes, when sounded together, are not
-necessarily heard as one; they are recognized as still two,
-and as forming a concord or a discord. But two colours form
-a single colour; and the eye cannot, in any way, distinguish
-between a green compound of blue and yellow, and the simple,
-undecomposable green of the spectrum. By composition of
-three or more colours, innumerable new colours may be
-generated which form no part of the prismatic series; and by
-such compositions is woven the infinitely varied web of
-colour which forms the clothing of nature. How are we to
-classify and arrange all the possible colours of objects, so
-that each shall have a place and name? How shall we find a
-_chromatometer_ for impure as well as for pure colour?
-
-Though no optical investigations have depended on a scale of
-impure colours, such a scale has been wanted and invented
-for other purposes; for instance, in order to identify and
-describe objects of natural history. Not to speak of earlier
-essays, we may notice Werner's Nomenclature of Colours,
-devised for the purpose of describing minerals. This scale
-of colour was far superior to any which had previously been
-promulgated. {343} It was, indeed, arbitrary in the
-selection of its degrees, and in a great measure in their
-arrangement; and the colours were described by the usual
-terms, though generally with some added distinction; as
-_blackish green_, _bluish green_, _apple-green_,
-_emerald-green_. But the great merit of the scale was its
-giving a _fixed_ conventional meaning to these terms, so
-that they lost much of their usual vagueness. Thus
-_apple-green_ did not mean the colour of any green apple
-casually taken; but a certain definite colour which the
-student was to bear in mind, whether or not he had ever seen
-an apple of that exact hue. The words were not a
-description, but a _record_ of the colour: the memory was to
-retain a _sensation_, not a name.
-
-The imperfection of the system (arising from its arbitrary
-form) was its incompleteness: however well it served for the
-reference of the colours which it did contain, it was
-applicable to no others; and thus though Werner's
-enumeration extended to more than a hundred colours, there
-occur in nature a still greater number which cannot be
-exactly described by means of it.
-
-In such cases the unclassed colour is, by the Wernerians,
-defined by stating it as intermediate between two others:
-thus we have an object described as _between emerald-green
-and grass-green_. The eye is capable of perceiving a
-gradation from one colour to another; such as may be
-produced by a gradual mixture in various ways. And if we
-image to ourselves such a mixture, we can compare with it a
-given colour. But in employing this method we have nothing
-to tell us in what part of the scale we must seek for an
-approximation to our unclassed colour. We have no rule for
-discovering where we are to look for the boundaries of the
-definition of a colour which the Wernerian series does not
-supply. For it is not always between contiguous members of
-the series that the undescribed colour is found. If we place
-emerald-green between apple-green and grass-green, we may
-yet have a colour intermediate between emerald-green and
-leek-green; and, in fact, the Wernerian series of colours is
-destitute {344} of a principle of self-arrangement and
-gradation; and is thus necessarily and incurably imperfect.
-
-8. We should have a complete Scale of Colours, if we could
-form a series including all colours, and arranged so that
-each colour was intermediate in its tint between the
-adjacent terms of the series; for then, whether we took many
-or few of the steps of the series for our standard terms,
-the rest could be supplied by the law of continuity; and any
-given colour would either correspond to one of the steps of
-our scale or fall between two intermediate ones. The
-invention of a Chromatometer for Impure Colours, therefore,
-requires that we should be able to form all possible colours
-by such intermediation in a systematic manner; that is, by
-the mixture or combination of certain elementary colours
-according to a simple rule: and we are led to ask whether
-such a process has been shown to be possible.
-
-The colours of the prismatic spectrum obviously do form a
-continuous series; green is intermediate between its
-neighbours yellow and blue, orange between red and yellow;
-and if we suppose the two ends of the spectrum bent round to
-meet each other, so that the arrangement of the colours may
-be circular, the violet and indigo will find their
-appropriate place between the blue and red. And all the
-interjacent tints of the spectrum, as well as the ones just
-named, will result from such an arrangement. Thus all the
-_pure_ colours are produced by combinations two and two of
-three primary colours, Red, Yellow, and Blue: and the
-question suggests itself whether these three are not really
-the only Primary Colours, and whether all the impure colours
-do not arise from mixtures of the three in various
-proportions. There are various modes in which this
-suggestion may be applied to the construction of a scale of
-colours; but the simplest, and the one which appears really
-to verify the conjecture that all possible colours may be so
-exhibited, is the following. A certain combination of red,
-yellow, and blue, will produce black, or pure grey, and when
-diluted, will give all the shades of grey which intervene
-between {345} black and white. By adding various shades of
-grey, then, to pure colours, we may obtain all the possible
-ternary combinations of red, yellow, and blue; and in this
-way it is found that we exhaust the range of colours. Thus
-the circle of pure colours of which we have spoken may be
-accompanied by several other circles, in which these colours
-are tinged with a less or greater shade of grey; and in this
-manner it is found that we have a perfect chromatometer;
-every possible colour being exhibited either exactly or by
-means of approximate and contiguous limits. The arrangement
-of colours has been brought into this final and complete
-form by M. Merimée, whose Chromatic Scale is published by M.
-Mirbel in his _Elements of Botany_. We may observe that such
-a standard affords us a numerical exponent for every colour
-by means of the proportions of the three primary colours
-which compose it; or, expressing the same result otherwise,
-by means of the pure colour which is involved, and the
-proportion of grey by which it is rendered impure. In such a
-scale the fundamental elements would be the precise tints of
-red, yellow, and blue which are found or assumed to be
-primary; the numerical exponents of each colour would depend
-upon the arbitrary number of degrees which we interpose
-between each two primary colours; and between each pure
-colour and absolute blackness. No such numerical scale has,
-however, as yet, obtained general acceptation[28\4].
-
-[Note 28\4: The reference to _Fraunhofer's Lines_, as a
-means of determining the place of a colour in the prismatic
-series, has been objected to, because, as is asserted, the
-colours which are in the neighbourhood of each line vary
-with the position of the sun, state of the atmosphere and
-the like. It is very evident that coloured light refracted
-by the prism will not give the same spectrum as white light.
-The spectrum given by white light is of course the one here
-meant. It is an usual practice of optical experimenters to
-refer to the colours of such a spectrum, defining them by
-Fraunhofer's Lines.
-
-I do not know whether it needs explanation that the 'first
-spectrum' in Newton's rings is a ring of the prismatic
-colours.
-
-I have not had an opportunity of consulting Lambert's
-_Photometria, sive de mensura et gradibus luminis, colorum,
-et umbræ_, published in 1760, nor Mayer's _Commentatio de
-Affinitate Colorum_, (1758), in which, I believe, he
-describes a chromatometer. The present work is not intended
-to be complete as a history; and I hope I have given
-sufficient historical detail to answer its philosophical
-purpose.]
-
-
-{346} SECT. IV.--_Scales of Light._
-
-9. _Photometer._--ANOTHER instrument much needed in optical
-researches is a _Photometer_, a measure of the intensity of
-light. In this case, also, the organ of sense, the eye, is
-the ultimate judge; nor has any effect of light, as light,
-yet been discovered which we can substitute for such a
-judgment. All instruments, such as that of Leslie, which
-employ the heating effect of light, or at least all that
-have hitherto been proposed, are inadmissible as
-photometers. But though the eye can judge of two surfaces
-illuminated by light of the same colour, and can determine
-when they are equally bright, or which is the brighter, the
-eye can by no means decide at sight the proportion of
-illumination. How much in such judgments we are affected by
-contrast, is easily seen when we consider how different is
-the apparent brightness of the moon at mid-day and at
-midnight, though the light which we receive from her is, in
-fact, the same at both periods. In order to apply a scale in
-this case, we must take advantage of the known numerical
-relations of light. We are certain that if all other
-illumination be excluded, two equal luminaries, under the
-same circumstances, will produce an illumination twice as
-great as one does; and we can easily prove, from
-mathematical considerations, that if light be not enfeebled
-by the medium through which it passes, the illumination on a
-given surface will diminish as the square of the distance of
-the luminary increases. If, therefore, we can by taking a
-fraction thus known of the illuminating effect of one
-luminary, make it equal to the total effect of another, of
-which equality the eye is a competent judge, we compare the
-effects of the two luminaries. In order to make this
-comparison we may, with Rumford, look at the shadows of the
-same object made by the two lights, {347} or with Ritchie,
-we may view the brightness produced on two contiguous
-surfaces, framing an apparatus so that the equality may be
-brought about by proper adjustment; and thus a measure will
-become practicable. Or we may employ other methods as was
-done by Wollaston[29\4], who reduced the light of the sun by
-observing it as reflected from a bright globule, and thus
-found the light of the sun to be 10,000,000,000 times that
-of Sirius, the brightest fixed star. All these methods are
-inaccurate, even as methods of comparison; and do not offer
-any fixed or convenient numerical standard; but none better
-have yet been devised[30\4].
-
-[Note 29\4: _Phil. Trans._ 1820, p. 19.]
-
-[Note 30\4: Improved Photometers have been devised by
-Professor Wheatstone, Professor Potter, and Professor
-Steinheil; but they depend upon principles similar to those
-mentioned in the text.]
-
-10. _Cyanometer._--As we thus measure the brightness of a
-colourless light, we may measure the intensity of any
-particular colour in the same way; that is, by applying a
-standard exhibiting the gradations of the colour in question
-till we find a shade which is seen to agree with the
-proposed object. Such an instrument we have in the
-_Cyanometer_, which was invented by Saussure for the purpose
-of measuring the intensity of the blue colour of the sky. We
-may introduce into such an instrument a numerical scale, but
-the numbers in such a scale will be altogether arbitrary.
-
-
-SECT. V.--_Scales of Heat._
-
-11. _Thermometers._--WHEN we proceed to the sensation of
-heat, and seek a measure of that quality, we find, at first
-sight, new difficulties. Our sensations of this kind are
-more fluctuating than those of vision; for we know that the
-same object may feel warm to one hand and cold to another at
-the same instant, if the hands have been previously cooled
-and warmed respectively. Nor can we obtain here, as in the
-case of light, self-evident numerical relations of the heat
-communicated in given circumstances; for we know that the
-{348} effect so produced will depend on the warmth of the
-body to be heated, as well as on that of the source of heat;
-the summer sun, which warms our bodies, will not augment the
-heat of a red-hot iron. The cause of the difference of these
-cases is, that bodies do not receive the whole of their
-heat, as they receive the whole of their light, from the
-immediate influence of obvious external agents. There is no
-readily-discovered absolute cold, corresponding to the
-absolute darkness which we can easily produce or imagine.
-Hence we should be greatly at a loss to devise a
-_Thermometer_, if we did not find an indirect effect of heat
-sufficiently constant and measurable to answer this purpose.
-We discover, however, such an effect in the _expansion_ of
-bodies by the effect of heat.
-
-12. Many obvious phenomena show that air, under given
-circumstances, expands by the effect of heat; the same is
-seen to be true of liquids, as of water, and spirit of wine;
-and the property is found to belong also to the metallic
-fluid, quicksilver. A more careful examination showed that
-the increase of bulk in some of these bodies by increase of
-Heat was a fact of a nature sufficiently constant and
-regular to afford a means of measuring that previously
-intangible quality; and the Thermometer was invented. There
-were, however, many difficulties to overcome, and many
-points to settle, before this instrument was fit for the
-purposes of science.
-
-An explanation of the way in which this was done necessarily
-includes an important chapter of the history of Thermotics.
-We must now, therefore, briefly notice historically the
-progress of the Thermometer. The leading steps of this
-progress, after the first invention of the instrument,
-were--The establishment of _fixed points_ in the
-thermometric scale--The _comparison of the scales_ of
-different substances--And the reconcilement of these
-differences by some method of interpreting them as
-indications of the absolute _quantity of heat_.
-
-13. It would occupy too much space to give in detail the
-history of the successive attempts by which {349} these
-steps were effected. A thermometer is described by Bacon
-under the title _Vitrum Calendare_; this was an air
-thermometer. Newton used a thermometer of linseed oil, and
-he perceived that the first step requisite to give value to
-such an instrument was to fix its scale; accordingly he
-proposed his _Scala Graduum Caloris_[31\4]. But when
-thermometers of different liquids were compared, it
-appeared, from their discrepancies, that this fixation of
-the scale of heat was more difficult than had been supposed.
-It was, however, effected. Newton had taken freezing water,
-or rather thawing snow, as the zero of his scale, which is
-really a fixed point; Halley and Amontons discovered (in
-1693 and 1702) that the heat of boiling water is another
-fixed point; and Daniel Gabriel Fahrenheit, of Dantzig, by
-carefully applying these two standard points, produced,
-about 1714, thermometers, which were constantly consistent
-with each other. This result was much admired at the time,
-and was, in fact, the solution of the problem just stated,
-the _fixation of the scale of heat_.
-
-[Note 31\4: _Phil. Trans._ 1701.]
-
-14. But the scale thus obtained is a conventional not a
-natural scale. It depends upon the fluid employed for the
-thermometer. The progress of expansion from the heat of
-freezing to that of boiling water is different for mercury,
-oil, water, spirit of wine, air. A degree of heat which is
-half-way between these two standard points according to a
-mercurial thermometer, will be below the half-way point in a
-spirit thermometer, and above it in an air thermometer. Each
-liquid has its own _march_ in the course of its expansion.
-Deluc and others compared the marches of various liquids,
-and thus made what we may call a _concordance_ of
-thermometers of various kinds.
-
-15. Here the question further occurs: Is there not some
-_natural measure_ of the degrees of heat? It appears certain
-that there must be such a measure, and that by means of it
-all the scales of different liquids must be reconciled. Yet
-this does not seem to have occurred at once to men's minds.
-Deluc, in speaking {350} of the researches which we have
-just mentioned, says[32\4], 'When I undertook these
-experiments, it never once came into my thoughts that they
-could conduct me with any probability to a table of real
-degrees of heat. But hope grows with success, and desire
-with hope.' Accordingly he pursued this inquiry for a long
-course of years.
-
-[Note 32\4: _Modif. de l'Atmosph._ 1782, p. 303.]
-
-What are the principles by which we are to be guided to the
-true measure of heat? Here, as in all the sciences of this
-class, we have the general principle, that the secondary
-quality, Heat, must be supposed to be perceived in some way
-by a material Medium or Fluid. If we take that which is,
-perhaps, the simplest form of this hypothesis, that the heat
-depends upon the _quantity_ of this fluid, or _Caloric_,
-which is present, we shall find that we are led to
-propositions which may serve as a foundation for a natural
-measure of heat. The _Method of Mixtures_ is one example of
-such a result. If we mix together two pints of water, one
-hot and one cold, is it not manifest that the temperature of
-the mixture must be midway between the two? Each of the two
-portions brings with it its own heat. The whole heat, or
-caloric, of the mixture is the sum of the two; and the heat
-of each half must be the half of this sum, and therefore its
-temperature must be intermediate between the temperatures of
-the equal portions which were mixed. Deluc made experiments
-founded upon this principle, and was led by them to conclude
-that 'the dilatations of mercury follow an accelerated march
-for successive equal augmentations of heat.'
-
-But there are various circumstances which prevent this
-method of mixtures from being so satisfactory as at first
-sight it seems to promise to be. The different capacities
-for heat of different substances, and even of the same
-substance at different temperatures, introduce much
-difficulty into the experiments; and this path of inquiry
-has not yet led to a satisfactory result. {351}
-
-16. Another mode of inquiring into the natural measure of
-heat is to seek it by researches on the _law of cooling_ of
-hot bodies. If we assume that the process of cooling of hot
-bodies consists in a certain material heat flying off, we
-may, by means of certain probable hypotheses, determine
-mathematically the law according to which the temperature
-decreases as time goes on; and we may assume _that_ to be
-the true measure of temperature which gives to the
-experimental law of cooling the most simple and probable
-form.
-
-It appears evident from the most obvious conceptions which
-we can form of the manner in which a body parts with its
-superabundant heat, that the hotter a body is, the faster it
-cools; though it is not clear without experiment, by what
-law the rate of cooling will depend upon the heat of the
-body. Newton took for granted the most simple and seemingly
-natural law of this dependence: he supposed the rate of
-cooling to be _proportional_ to the temperature, and from
-this supposition he could deduce the temperature of a hot
-iron, calculating from the original temperature and the time
-during which it had been cooling. By calculation founded on
-such a basis, he graduated his thermometer.
-
-17. But a little further consideration showed that the rate
-of cooling of a hot body depended upon the temperature of
-the surrounding bodies, as well as upon its own temperature.
-Prevost's _Theory of Exchanges_[33\4] was propounded with a
-view of explaining this dependence, and was generally
-accepted. According to this theory, all bodies radiate heat
-to one another, and are thus constantly giving and receiving
-heat; and a body which is hotter than surrounding bodies,
-cools itself, and warms the surrounding, bodies, by an
-exchange of heat for heat, in which they are the gainers.
-Hence if _θ_ be the temperature of the bodies, or of the
-space, by which the hot body is surrounded, and _θ_ + _t_ the
-temperature of the hot body, the rate of cooling will depend
-{352} upon the excess of the radiation for a temperature _θ_ +
-_t_, above the radiation for a temperature _θ_.
-
-[Note 33\4: _Recherches sur la Chaleur_, 1791. _Hist. Ind.
-Sc._ b. x. c. i. sect. 2.]
-
-Accordingly, in the admirable researches of MM. Dulong and
-Petit upon the cooling of bodies, it was assumed that the
-rate of cooling of the hot body was represented by the
-excess of F(_θ_ + _t_) above F(_θ_); where F represented some
-mathematical _function_, that is, some expression obtained
-by arithmetical operations from the temperatures _θ_ + _t_ and
-_θ_; although what these operations are to be, was left
-undecided, and was in fact determined by the experiments.
-And the result of their investigations was, that the
-function is of this kind: when the temperature increases by
-equal intervals, the function increases in a continued
-geometric proportion[34\4]. This was, in fact, the same law
-which had been assumed by Newton and others, with this
-difference, that _they_ had neglected the term which depends
-upon the temperature of the surrounding space.
-
-[Note 34\4: The formula for the rate of cooling is _ma^(θ +
-t) - ma^θ_, where the quantity _m_ depends upon the nature
-of the body, the state of its surface, and other
-circumstances.--_Ann. Chim._ vii. 150.]
-
-18. This law falls in so well with the best conceptions we
-can form of the mechanism of cooling upon the supposition of
-a radiant fluid caloric, that it gives great probability to
-the scale of temperature on which the simplicity of the
-result depends. Now the temperatures in the formulæ just
-referred to were expressed by means of the _air
-thermometer_. Hence MM. Dulong and Petit justly state, that
-while all different substances employed as thermometers give
-different laws of thermotical phenomena, their own success
-in obtaining simple and general laws by means of the air
-thermometer, is a strong recommendation of that as the
-_natural scale of heat_. They add[35\4], 'The well-known
-uniformity of the principal physical properties of all
-gases, and especially the perfect identity of their laws of
-dilatation by heat, [a very important discovery of {353}
-Dalton and Gay Lussac[36\4],] make it very probable that in
-this class of bodies the disturbing causes have not the same
-influence as in solids and liquids; and consequently that
-the changes of bulk produced by the action of heat are here
-in a more immediate dependence on the force which produces them.'
-
-[Note 35\4: _Annales de Chimie_, vii. 153.]
-
-[Note 36\4: _Hist. Ind. Sc._ b. x. c. ii. sect. 1.]
-
-19. Still we cannot consider this point as settled till we
-obtain a more complete theoretical insight into the nature
-of heat itself. If it be true that heat consists in the
-vibrations of a fluid, then, although, as Ampère has
-shown[37\4], the laws of radiation will, on mathematical
-grounds, be the same as they are on the hypothesis of
-emission, we cannot consider the natural scale of heat as
-determined, till we have discovered some means of measuring
-the caloriferous vibrations as we measure luminiferous
-vibrations. We shall only know what the quantity of heat is
-when we know what heat itself is;--when we have obtained a
-theory which satisfactorily explains the manner in which the
-substance or medium of heat produces its effects. When we
-see how radiation and conduction, dilatation and
-liquefaction, are all produced by mechanical changes of the
-same fluid, we shall then see what the nature of that change
-is which dilatation really measures, and what relation it
-bears to any more proper standard of heat.
-
-[Note 37\4: _Ib._ c. iv.]
-
-We may add, that while our thermotical theory is still so
-imperfect as it is, all attempts to divine the true nature
-of the relation between light and heat are premature, and
-must be in the highest degree insecure and visionary.
-Speculations in which, from the general assumption of a
-caloriferous and luminiferous medium, and from a few facts
-arbitrarily selected and loosely analysed, a general theory
-of light and heat is asserted, are entirely foreign to the
-course of inductive science, and cannot lead to any stable
-and substantial truth.
-
-20. _Other Instruments for measuring Heat._--It does not
-belong to our present purpose to speak of {354} instruments
-of which the object is to measure, not sensible qualities,
-but some effect or modification of the cause by which such
-qualities are produced: such, for instance, are the
-_Calorimeter_, employed by Lavoisier and Laplace, in order
-to compare the _Specific Heat_ of different substances; and
-the _Actinometer_, invented by Sir John Herschel, in order
-to determine the _effect of the Sun's Rays_ by means of the
-heat which they communicate in a given time; which effect
-is, as may readily be supposed, very different under
-different circumstances of atmosphere and position. The laws
-of such effects may be valuable contributions to our
-knowledge of heat, but the interpretation of them must
-depend on a previous knowledge of the relations which
-temperature bears to heat, according to the views just
-explained.
-
-
-SECT. VI.--_Scales of other Qualities._
-
-21. BEFORE quitting the subject of the measures of sensible
-qualities, we may observe that there are several other such
-qualities for which it would be necessary to have scales and
-means of measuring, in order to make any approach to science
-on such subjects. This is true, for instance, of Tastes and
-Smells. Indeed some attempts have been made towards a
-classification of the Tastes of sapid substances, but these
-have not yet assumed any satisfactory or systematic
-character; and I am not aware that any instrument has been
-suggested for _measuring_ either the Flavour or the Odour of
-bodies which possess such qualities.
-
-22. _Quality of Sounds._--The same is true of that kind of
-difference in sounds which is peculiarly termed their
-_Quality_; that character by which, for instance, the sound
-of a flute differs from that of a hautbois, when the note is
-the same; or a woman's voice from a boy's.
-
-23. _Articulate Sounds._--There is also in sounds another
-difference, of which the nature is still obscure, but in
-reducing which to rule, and consequently to measure, some
-progress has nevertheless been made. {355} I speak of the
-differences of sound considered as _articulate_.
-Classifications of the sounds of the usual alphabets have
-been frequently proposed; for instance, that which arranges
-the _Consonants_ in the following groups,:
-
-Sharp. Flat. Sharp Aspirate. Flat Aspirate. Nasal.
- p b ph (_f_) bh (_v_) m
- k g (hard) kh gh ng
- t d th (sharp) th (flat) n
- s z sh zh
-
-It is easily perceived that the relations of the sounds in
-each of these horizontal lines are analogous; and
-accordingly the rules of derivation and modification of
-words in several languages proceed upon such analogies. In
-the same manner the _Vowels_ may be arranged in an order
-depending on their sound. But to make such arrangements
-fixed and indisputable, we ought to know the mechanism by
-which such modifications are caused. Instruments have been
-invented by which some of these sounds can be imitated; and
-if such instruments could be made to produce the above
-series of articulate sounds, by connected and regular
-processes, we should find, in the process, a _measure_ of
-the sound produced. This has been in a great degree effected
-for the Vowels by Professor Willis's artificial mode of
-imitating them. For he finds that if a musical reed be made
-to sound through a cylindrical pipe, we obtain by gradually
-lengthening the cylindrical pipe, the series of vowels I, E,
-A, O, U, with intermediate sounds[38\4]. In this instrument,
-then, the length of the pipe would determine the vowel, and
-might be used numerically to express it. Such an instrument
-so employed would be a measure of vowel quality, and might
-be called a _Phthongometer_.
-
-[Note 38\4: _Camb. Trans._ vol. iii. p. 239.]
-
-Our business at present, however, is not with instruments
-which might be devised for measuring sensible qualities, but
-with those which have been so used, and have thus been the
-basis of the sciences in which {356} such qualities are
-treated of; and this we have now done sufficiently for our
-present purpose.
-
-24. There is another Idea which, though hitherto very
-vaguely entertained, has had considerable influence in the
-formation, both of the sciences spoken of in the present
-Book, and on others which will hereafter come under our
-notice: namely, the Idea of Polarity. This Idea will be the
-subject of the ensuing Book. And although this Idea forms a
-part of the basis of various other extensive portions of
-science, as Optics and Chemistry, it occupies so peculiarly
-conspicuous a place in speculations belonging to what I have
-termed the Mechanico-Chemical Sciences, (Magnetism and
-Electricity,) that I shall designate the discussion of the
-Idea of Polarity as the Philosophy of those Sciences.
-
-
-
-
-{{357}}
-BOOK V.
-
-
-
-THE
-PHILOSOPHY
-OF THE
-MECHANICO-CHEMICAL SCIENCES.
-
-
-
-
-En donnant à ces côtés le nom de _poles_, j'appelerai
-_polarisation_ la modification qui donne à la lumière des
-propriétés relatives à ces poles. J'ai tardé jusqu'à présent
-à admettre ce terme dans la description des phénomènes
-physiques dont il est question; je n'ai pas osé l'introduire
-dans les mémoires où j'ai publié mes dernières expériences;
-mais les variétés qu'offre ce nouveau phénomène, et la
-difficulté de les décrire, me forcent à admettre cette
-nouvelle expression, qui signifie simplement la modification
-que la lumière a subie en acquérant de nouvelles propriétés
-qui ne sont pas relatives à la direction du rayon, mais
-seulement à ses côtés considérés à angles droits et dans un
-plan perpendiculaire à sa direction.
-
-Malus (1811), _Mém. de Inst._ tom. xi. p. 106.
-
-
-
-{{359}}
-BOOK V.
-
-
-THE PHILOSOPHY OF THE MECHANICO-CHEMICAL SCIENCES.
-
-
-CHAPTER I.
-
-ATTEMPTS AT THE SCIENTIFIC APPLICATION OF THE IDEA OF
-POLARITY.
-
-
-1. IN some of the mechanical sciences, as Magnetism and
-Optics, the phenomena are found to depend upon position (the
-position of the magnet, or of the ray of light,) in a
-peculiar alternate manner. This dependence, as it was first
-apprehended, was represented by means of certain conceptions
-of space and force, as for instance by considering the two
-_Poles_ of a magnet. But in all such modes of representing
-these alternations by the conceptions borrowed from other
-ideas, a closer examination detected something superfluous
-and something defective; and in proportion as the view which
-philosophers took of this relation was gradually purified
-from these incongruous elements, and was rendered more
-general and abstract by the discovery of analogous
-properties in new cases, it was perceived that the relation
-could not be adequately apprehended without considering it
-as involving a peculiar and independent Idea, which we may
-designate by the term _Polarity_.
-
-We shall trace some of the forms in which this Idea has
-manifested itself in the history of science. In doing so we
-shall not begin, as in other Books of this work we have
-done, by speaking of the notion as it is {360} employed in
-common use: for the relation of Polarity is of so abstract
-and technical a nature, that it is not employed, at least in
-any distinct and obvious manner, on any ordinary or
-practical occasions. The idea belongs peculiarly to the
-region of speculation: in persons of common habits of
-thought it is probably almost or quite undeveloped; and even
-most of those whose minds have been long occupied by
-science, find a difficulty in apprehending it in its full
-generality and abstraction, and stript of all irrelevant
-hypothesis.
-
-2. _Magnetism._--The name and the notion of _Poles_ were
-first adopted in the case of a magnet. If we have two
-magnets, their extremities attract and repel each other
-alternatively. If the first end of the one attract the first
-end of the other, it repels the second end, and conversely.
-In order to express this rule conveniently, the two ends of
-each magnet are called the _north pole_ and the _south pole_
-respectively, the denominations being borrowed from the
-poles of the earth and heavens. 'These poles,' as Gilbert
-says[1\5], 'regulate the motions of the celestial spheres
-and of the earth. In like manner the magnet has its poles, a
-northern and a southern one; certain and determined points
-constituted by nature in the stone, the primary terms of its
-motions and effects, the limits and governors of many
-actions and virtues.'
-
-[Note 1\5: _De Magn._ lib. i. c. iii.]
-
-The nature of the opposition of properties of which we speak
-may be stated thus:
-The North pole of one magnet attracts the South pole of another
-magnet.
-The North pole of one magnet _repels_ the North pole of another
-magnet.
-The South pole of one magnet repels the South pole of another
-magnet.
-The South pole of one magnet _attracts_ the North pole of
-another magnet.
-
-It will be observed that the contrariety of position which
-is indicated by putting the South pole for the North pole in
-either magnet, is accompanied by the {361} opposition of
-mechanical effect which is expressed by changing attraction
-into repulsion and repulsion into attraction: and thus we
-have the general feature of Polarity,--A contrast of
-properties corresponding to a contrast of positions.
-
-3. _Electricity._--When the phenomena of Electricity came to
-be studied, it appeared that they involved relations in some
-respects Analogous to those of magnetism.
-
-Two kinds of electricity were distinguished, the positive
-and the negative; and it appeared that two bodies electrized
-positively, or two electrized negatively, repelled each
-other, like two north or two south magnetic poles; while a
-positively and a negatively electrized body attracted each
-other, like the north and south poles of two magnets. In
-conductors of an oblong form, the electricity could easily
-be made to distribute itself so that one end should be
-positively and one end negatively electrized; and then such
-conductors acted on each other exactly as magnets would do.
-
-But in conductors, however electrized, there is no peculiar
-point which can permanently be considered as the _pole_. The
-distribution of electricity in the conductor depends upon
-external circumstances: and thus, although the phenomena
-offer the general character of _polarity_--alternative
-results corresponding to alternative positions,--they cannot
-be referred to poles. Some other mode of representing the
-forces must be adopted than that which makes them emanate
-from permanent points as in a magnet.
-
-The phenomena of attraction and repulsion in electrized
-bodies were conveniently represented by means of the
-hypothesis of _two_ electric _fluids_, a positive and a
-negative one, which were supposed to be distributed in the
-bodies. Of these fluids, it was supposed that each repelled
-its own parts and attracted those of the opposite fluid: and
-it was found that this hypothesis explained all the obvious
-laws of electric action. Here then we have the phenomena of
-polarization explained by a new kind of machinery:--two
-opposite fluids {362} distributed in bodies, and supplying
-them, so to speak, with their polar forces. This hypothesis
-not only explains electrical attraction, but also the
-electrical spark: namely, thus: when two bodies, of which
-the neighbouring surfaces are charged with the two opposite
-fluids, approach near to each other, the mutual attraction
-of the fluids becomes more and more intense, till at last
-the excess of fluid on the one body breaks through the air
-and rushes to the other body, in a form accompanied by light
-and noise. When this transfer has taken place, the
-attraction ceases, the positive and the negative fluid
-having neutralized each other. Their effort was to unite;
-and this union being effected, there is no longer any force
-in action. Bodies in their natural unexcited condition may
-be considered as occupied by a combination of the two
-fluids: and hence we see how the production of either kind
-of electricity is necessarily accompanied with the
-production of an equivalent amount of the opposite kind.
-
-4. _Voltaic Electricity._--Such is the case in Franklinic
-electricity,--that which is excited by the common electrical
-machine. In studying Voltaic electricity, we are led to the
-conviction that the fluid which is in a condition of
-momentary _equilibrium_ in electrized conductors, exists in
-the state of a _Current_ in the voltaic circuit. And here we
-find polar relations of a new kind existing among the
-forces. Two voltaic Currents _attract_ each other when they
-are moving in the _same_, and _repel_ each other when they
-are moving in _opposite_, directions.
-
-But we find, in addition to these, other polar relations of
-a more abstruse kind, and which the supposition of two
-fluids does not so readily explain. For instance, if such
-fluids existed, distinct from each other, it might be
-expected that it would be possible to exhibit one of them
-separate from the other. Yet in all the phenomena of
-electromotive currents, we attempt in vain to obtain one
-kind of electricity separately. 'I have not,' says Mr.
-Faraday[2\5], 'been able to find a {363} single fact which
-could be adduced to prove the theory of two electricities
-rather than one, in electric currents; or, admitting the
-hypothesis of two electricities, have I been able to
-perceive the slightest grounds that one electricity can be
-more powerful than the other, or that it can be present
-without the other, or that it can be varied or in the
-slightest degree affected without a corresponding variation
-in the other.' 'Thus,' he adds, 'the polar character of the
-powers is rigorous and complete.' Thus, we too may remark,
-all the superfluous and precarious parts gradually drop off
-from the hypothesis which we devise in order to represent
-polar phenomena; and the abstract notion of Polarity--of
-equal and opposite powers called into existence by a common
-condition--remains unincumbered with extraneous machinery.
-
-[Note 2\5: _Researches_, 516.]
-
-5. _Light._--Another very important example of the
-application of the Idea of Polarity is that supplied by the
-discovery of the polarization of light. A ray of light may,
-by various processes, be modified, so that it has different
-properties according to its different _sides_, although this
-difference is not perceptible by any common effects. If, for
-instance, a ray thus modified, pass perpendicularly through
-a circular glass, and fall upon the eye, we may turn the
-glass round and round in its frame, and we shall make no
-difference in the brightness of the spot which we see. But
-if, instead of a glass, we look through a longitudinal slice
-of tourmaline, the spot is alternately dark and bright as we
-turn the crystal through successive quadrants. Here we have
-a contrast of Properties (dark and bright) corresponding to
-a contrast of positions, (the position of a line east and
-west being contrasted with the position north and south,)
-which, as we have said, is the general character of
-Polarity. It was with a view of expressing this character
-that the term _Polarization_ was originally introduced.
-Malus was forced by his discoveries into the use of this
-expression. 'We find,' he says, in 1811, 'that light
-acquires properties which are relative only to the sides of
-the ray,--which are the same for the north and south sides
-of the ray, (using {364} the points of the compass for
-description's sake only,) and which are different when we go
-from the north and south to the east or to the west sides of
-the ray. I shall give the name of _poles_ to these sides of
-the ray, and shall call _polarization_ the modification
-which gives to light these properties relative to these
-poles. I have _put off_ hitherto the admission of this term
-into the description of the physical phenomena with which we
-have to do: I did not _dare_ to introduce it into the
-Memoirs in which I published my last observations: but the
-variety of forms in which this new phenomenon appears, and
-the difficulty of describing them, compel me to admit this
-new expression; which signifies simply the modification
-which light has undergone in acquiring new properties which
-are not relative to the direction of the ray, but only to
-its sides considered at right angles to each other, and in a
-plane perpendicular to its direction.'
-
-The theory which represents light as an emission of
-particles was in vogue at the time when Malus published his
-discoveries; and some of his followers in optical research
-conceived that the phenomena which he thus described
-rendered it necessary to ascribe poles and an axis to each
-particle of light. On this hypothesis, light would be
-polarized when the axes of all the particles were in the
-same direction: and, making such a supposition, it may
-easily be conceived capable of transmission through a
-crystal whose axis is parallel to that of the luminous
-particles, and intransmissible when the axis of the crystal
-is in a position transverse to that of the particles.
-
-The hypothesis of particles possessing _poles_ is a rude and
-arbitrary assumption, in this as in other cases; but it
-serves to convey the general notion of polarity, which is
-the essential feature of the phenomena. The term
-'polarization of light has sometimes been complained of in
-modern times as hypothetical and obscure. But the real cause
-of obscurity was, that the Idea of Polarity was, till
-lately, very imperfectly developed in men's minds. As we
-have seen, the general notion of Polarity,--opposite
-properties in opposite {365} directions,--exactly describes
-the character of the optical phenomena to which the term is
-applied.
-
-It is to be recollected that in optics we never speak of the
-_poles_, but of the _plane of polarization_ of a ray. The
-word _sides_, which Newton and Malus have used, neither of
-them appears to have been satisfied with; Newton, in
-employing it, had recourse to the strange Gallicism of
-speaking of the _coast_ of usual and of unusual refraction
-of a crystal.
-
-The modern theory of optics represents the plane of
-polarization of light as depending, not on the position in
-which the axes of the luminiferous particles lie, but on the
-_direction_ of those _transverse vibrations_ in which light
-consists. This theory is, as we have stated in the History,
-recommended by an extraordinary series of successes in
-accounting for the phenomena. And this hypothesis of
-transverse vibrations shows us another mechanical mode,
-(besides the hypothesis of particles with axes,) by which we
-may represent the polarity of a ray. But we may remark that
-the general notion of Polarity, as applied to light in such
-cases, would subsist, even if the undulatory theory were
-rejected. The idea is, as we have before said, independent
-of all hypothetical machinery.
-
-I need not here refer to the various ways in which light may
-be polarized; as, for instance, by being reflected from the
-surface of water, or of glass, at certain angles, by being
-transmitted, through crystals, and in other ways. In all
-cases the modification produced, the polarization, is
-identically the same property. Nor need I mention the
-various kinds of phenomena which appear as contrasts in the
-result; for these are not merely light and dark, or white
-and black, but red and green, and generally, a colour and
-its _complementary_ colour, exhibited in many complex and
-varied configurations. These multiplied modes in which
-polarized light presents itself add nothing to the original
-conception of Polarization: and I shall therefore pass on to
-another subject.
-
-6. _Crystallization._--Bodies which are perfectly
-crystallized exhibit the most complete regularity and {366}
-symmetry of form; and this regularity not only appears in
-their outward shape, but pervades their whole texture, and
-manifests itself in their cleavage, their transparency, and
-in the uniform and determinate optical properties which
-exist in every part, even in the smallest fragment of the
-mass. If we conceive crystals as composed of particles, we
-must suppose these particles to be arranged in the most
-regular manner; for example, if we suppose each particle to
-have an axis, we must suppose all these axes to be parallel;
-for the direction of the axis of the particles is indicated
-by the physical and optical properties of the crystal, and
-therefore this direction must be the same for every portion
-of the crystal. This parallelism of the axes of the
-particles may be conceived to result from the circumstance
-of each particle having poles, the opposite poles attracting
-each other. In virtue of forces acting as this hypothesis
-assumes, a collection of small _magnetic_ particles would
-arrange themselves in parallel positions; and such a
-collection of magnetic particles offers a sort of image of a
-crystal. Thus we are led to conceive the particles of
-crystals as polarized, and as determined in their
-crystalline positions by polar forces. This mode of
-apprehending the constitution of crystals has been adopted
-by some of our most eminent philosophers. Thus Berzelius
-says[3\5], 'It is demonstrated, that the regular forms of
-bodies presuppose an effort of their atoms to touch each
-other by preference in certain points; that is, they are
-founded upon a Polarity;'--he adds, 'a polarity which can be
-no other than an electric or magnetic polarity.' In this
-latter clause we have the identity of different kinds of
-polarity asserted; a principle which we shall speak of in
-the next chapter. But we may remark, that even without
-dwelling upon this connexion, any notion which we can form
-of the structure of Crystals necessarily involves the idea
-of Polarity. Whether this polarity necessarily requires us
-to believe crystals to be composed of Atoms which exert an
-effort to touch {367} each other in certain points by
-preference, is another question. And, in agreement with what
-has been said respecting other kinds of polarity, we shall
-probably find, on a more profound examination of the
-subject, that while the Idea of Polarity is essential, the
-machinery by which it is thus expressed is precarious and
-superfluous.
-
-[Note 3\5: _Essay on the Theory of Chemical Properties_,
-1820, p. 113.]
-
-7. _Chemical Affinity._--We shall have, in the next Book, to
-speak of Chemical Affinity at some length; but since the
-ultimate views to which philosophers have been led, induce
-them to consider the forces of Affinity as Polar Forces, we
-must enumerate these among the examples of Polarity. In
-chemical processes, opposites tend to unite, and to
-neutralize each other by their union. Thus an _acid_ or an
-_alkali_ combine with vehemence, and form a compound, a
-neutral salt, which is neither acid nor alkaline.
-
-This conception of contrariety and mutual neutralization,
-involves the Idea of Polarity. In the conception as
-entertained by the earlier chemists, the Idea enters very
-obscurely: but in the attempts which have more recently been
-made to connect this relation (of acid and base), with other
-relations, the chemical elements have been conceived as
-composed of particles which possess poles; _like_ poles
-repelling, and _unlike_ attracting each other, as they do in
-magnetic and electric phenomena. This is, however, a rude
-and arbitrary way of expressing Polarity, and, as may be
-easily shown, involves many difficulties which do not belong
-to the Idea itself. Mr. Faraday, who has been led by his
-researches to a conviction of the polar nature of the forces
-of chemical affinity, has expressed their character in a
-more general manner, and without any of the machinery of
-particles indued with poles. According to his view, chemical
-synthesis and analysis must always be conceived as taking
-place in virtue of equal and opposite forces, by which the
-particles are united or separated. These forces, by the very
-circumstance of their being polar, may be transferred from
-point to point. For if we conceive a string of particles,
-and if the positive force of the first particle {368} be
-liberated and brought into action, its negative force also
-must be set free: this negative force neutralizes the
-positive force of the next particle, and therefore the
-negative force of this particle (before employed in
-neutralizing its positive force) is set free: this is in the
-same way transferred to the next particle, and so on. And
-thus we have a positive force active at one extremity of a
-line of particles, corresponding to a negative force at the
-other extremity, all the intermediate particles reciprocally
-neutralizing each other's action. This conception of the
-transfer of chemical action was indeed at an earlier period
-introduced by Grotthus[4\5], and confirmed by Davy. But in
-Mr. Faraday's hands we see it divested of all that is
-superfluous, and spoken of, not as a line of particles, but
-as 'an axis of power, having [at every point] contrary
-forces, exactly equal, in opposite directions.'
-
-[Note 4\5: DUMAS, _Leçons sur la Philosophie Chimique_, p. 401.]
-
-8. _General Remarks._--Thus, as we see, the notion of
-Polarity is applicable to many large classes of phenomena.
-Yet the Idea in a distinct and general form is only of late
-growth among philosophers. It has gradually been abstracted
-and refined from many extraneous hypotheses which were at
-first supposed to be essential to it. We have noticed some
-of these hypotheses;--as the poles of a _body_; the poles of
-the _particles_ of a fluid; _two_ opposite fluids; a single
-fluid in _excess_ and _defect_; transverse _vibrations_. To
-these others might be added. Thus Dr. Prout[5\5] assumes
-that the polarity of molecules results from their _rotation_
-on their axes, the opposite motions of contiguous molecules
-being the cause of opposite (positive and negative)
-polarities.
-
-[Note 5\5: _Bridgewater Treatise_, p. 559.]
-
-But none of these hypotheses can be proved by the fact of
-Polarity alone; and they have been in succession rejected
-when they had been assumed on that ground. Thus Davy, in
-1826, speaking of chemical forces says[6\5], 'In assuming
-the idea of two ethereal, subtile, elastic {369} fluids,
-attractive of the particles of each other, and repulsive as
-to their own particles, capable of combining in different
-proportions with bodies, and according to their proportions
-giving them their specific qualities and rendering them
-equivalent masses, it would be natural to refer the action
-of the poles to the repulsions of the substances combined
-with the excess of one fluid, and the attractions of those
-united to the excess of the other fluid; and a history of
-the phenomena, not unsatisfactory to the reason, might in
-this way be made out. But as it is possible likewise to take
-an entirely different view of the subject, on the idea of
-the dependence of the results upon the primary attractive
-powers of the parts of the combination on a single subtile
-fluid, I shall not enter into any discussion on this obscure
-part of the theory.' Which of these theories will best
-represent the case, will depend upon the consideration of
-other facts, in combination with the polar phenomena, as we
-see in the history of optical theory. In like manner Mr.
-Faraday proved by experiment[7\5] the errour of all theories
-which ascribe electro-chemical decomposition to the
-attraction of the poles of the voltaic battery.
-
-[Note 6\5: _Phil. Tr._ 1826, p. 415.]
-
-[Note 7\5: _Researches_, p. 495, &c.]
-
-In order that they may distinctly image to themselves the
-Idea of Polarity, men clothe it in some of the forms of
-machinery above spoken of; yet every new attempt shows them
-the unnecessary difficulties in which they thus involve
-themselves. But on the other hand it is difficult to
-apprehend this Idea divested of all machinery; and to
-entertain it in such a form that it shall apply at the same
-time to magnetism and electricity, galvanism and chemistry,
-crystalline structure and light. The Idea of _Polarity_
-becomes most pure and genuine, when we entirely reject the
-conception of _Poles_, as Faraday has taught us to do in
-considering electro-chemical decomposition; but it is only
-by degrees and by effort that we can reach this point of
-abstraction and generality. {370}
-
-9. There is one other remark which we may here make. It was
-a maxim commonly received in the ancient schools of
-philosophy, that 'Like attracts Like:' but as we have seen,
-the universal maxim of Polar Phenomena is, that Like
-_repels_ Like, and attracts Unlike. The north pole attracts
-the south pole, the positive fluid attracts the negative
-fluid; opposite elements rush together; opposite motions
-reduce each other to rest. The permanent and stable course
-of things is that which results from the balance and
-neutralization of contrary tendencies. Nature is constantly
-labouring after repose by the effect of such tendencies; and
-so far as Polar Forces enter into her economy, she seeks
-harmony by means of discord, and unity by opposition.
-
-Although the Idea of Polarity is as yet somewhat vague and
-obscure, even in the minds of the cultivators of physical
-science, it has nevertheless given birth to some general
-principles which have been accepted as evident, and have had
-great influence on the progress of science. These we shall
-now consider.
-
-
-
-{{371}}
-CHAPTER II.
-
-OF THE CONNEXION OF POLARITIES.
-
-
-1. IT has appeared in the preceding chapter that in cases in
-which the phenomena suggest to us the idea of Polarity, we
-are also led to assume some material machinery as the mode
-in which the polar forces are exerted. We assume, for
-instance, globular particles which possess poles, or the
-vibrations of a fluid, or two fluids attracting each other;
-in every case, in short, some hypothesis by which the
-existence and operation of the Polarity is embodied in
-geometrical and mechanical properties of a medium; nor is it
-possible for us to avoid proceeding upon the conviction that
-some such hypothesis must be true; although the nature of
-the connexion between the mechanism and the phenomena must
-still be indefinite and arbitrary.
-
-But since each class of Polar Phenomena is thus referred to
-an ulterior cause, of which we know no more than that it has
-a polar character, it follows that _different_ Polarities
-may result from the _same_ cause manifesting its polar
-character under different aspects. Taking, for example, the
-hypothesis of globular particles, if electricity result from
-an action dependent upon the _poles_ of each globule,
-magnetism may depend upon an action in the _equator_ of each
-globule; or taking the supposition of transverse vibrations,
-if polarized light result directly from such _vibrations_,
-crystallization may have reference to the _axes_ of the
-elasticity of the _medium_ by which the vibrations are
-rendered transverse,--so far as the polar character only of
-the phenomena is to be accounted for. I say this _may_ be
-so, _in so far_ only as the polar character of the phenomena
-is concerned; for whether the relation of {372} electricity
-to magnetism, or of crystalline forces to light, can really
-be explained by such hypotheses, remains to be determined by
-the facts themselves. But since the first necessary feature
-of the hypothesis is, that it shall give polarity, and since
-an hypothesis which does this, may, by its mathematical
-relations, give polarities of different kinds and in
-different directions, any two co-existent kinds of polarity
-may result from the same cause, manifesting itself in
-various manners.
-
-The conclusion to which we are led by these general
-considerations is, that two co-existing classes of polar
-phenomena _may_ be effects of the same cause. But those who
-have studied such phenomena more deeply and attentively
-have, in most or in all cases, arrived at the conviction
-that the various kinds of Polarity in such cases _must_ be
-connected and fundamentally identical. As this conviction
-has exercised a great influence, both upon the discoveries
-of new facts and upon the theoretical speculations of modern
-philosophers, and has been put forward by some writers as a
-universal principle of science, I will consider some of the
-cases in which it has been thus applied.
-
-2. _Connexion of Magnetic and Electric Polarity._--The polar
-phenomena of electricity and magnetism are clearly analogous
-in their laws: and obvious facts showed at an early period
-that there was some connexion between the two agencies.
-Attempts were made to establish an evident and definite
-relation between the two kinds of force, which attempts
-proceeded upon the principle now under
-consideration;--namely, that in such cases, the two kinds of
-Polarity must be connected. Professor Œrsted, of Copenhagen,
-was one of those who made many trials founded upon this
-conviction: yet all these were long unsuccessful. At length,
-in 1820, he discovered that a galvanic current, passing at
-right angles near to a magnetic needle, exercises upon it a
-powerful deflecting force. The connexion once detected
-between magnetism and galvanism was soon recognized as
-constant and universal. It was represented in different
-hypothetical modes by different persons; some considering
-the galvanic {373} current as the primitive axis, and the
-magnet as constituted of galvanic currents passing round it
-at right angles to the magnetic axis; while others conceived
-the magnetic axis as the primitive one, and the electric
-current as implying a magnetic current round the wire. So
-far as many of the general relations of these two kinds of
-force were concerned, either mode of representation served
-to express them; and thus the assumption that the two
-Polarities, the magnetic and the electric, were
-fundamentally identical, was verified, so far as the
-phenomena of magnetic attraction, and the like, were
-concerned.
-
-I need not here mention how this was further confirmed by
-the experiments in which, by means of the forces thus
-brought into view, a galvanic wire was made to revolve round
-a magnet, and a magnet round a galvanic wire;--in which
-artificial magnets were constructed of coils of galvanic
-wire;--and finally, in which the galvanic spark was obtained
-from the magnet. The identity which sagacious speculators
-had divined even before it was discovered, and which they
-had seen to be universal as soon as it was brought to light,
-was completely manifested in every imaginable form.
-
-The relation of the electric and magnetic Polarities was
-found to be, that they were _transverse_ to each other, and
-this relation exhibited under various conditions of form and
-position of the apparatus, gave rise to very curious and
-unexpected perplexities. The degree of complication which
-this relation may occasion, may be judged of from the number
-of constructions and modes of conception offered by Œrsted,
-Wollaston, Faraday, and others, for the purpose of framing a
-technical memory of the results. The magnetic polarity gives
-us the north and south poles of the needle; the electric
-polarity makes the current positive and negative; and these
-pairs of opposites are connected by relations of situation,
-as above and below, right and left; and give rise to the
-resulting motion of the needle one way or the other. {374}
-
-3. Ampère, by framing his hypotheses of the action of
-voltaic currents and the constitution of magnets, reduced
-all these technical rules to rigorous deductions from one
-general principle. And thus the vague and obscure persuasion
-that there _must_ be _some_ connexion between Electricity
-and Magnetism, so long an idle and barren conjecture, was
-unfolded into a complete theory, according to which magnetic
-and electromotive actions are only two different
-manifestations of the same forces; and all the
-above-mentioned complex relations of polarities are reduced
-to one single polarity, that of the electro-dynamic current.
-
-4. As the Idea of Polarity was thus firmly established and
-clearly developed, it became an instrument of reasoning.
-Thus it led Ampère to maintain that the original or
-elementary forces in electro-dynamic action could not be as
-M. Biot thought they were, a statical _couple_, but must be
-directly opposite to each other. The same idea enabled Mr.
-Faraday to carry on with confidence such reasonings as the
-following[8\5]: 'No other known power has like direction
-with that exerted between an electric current and a magnetic
-pole; it is tangential, while all other forces acting at a
-distance are direct. Hence if a magnetic pole on one side of
-a revolving plate follow its course by reason of its
-obedience to the tangential force exerted upon it by the
-very current of electricity which it has itself caused; a
-similar pole on the other side of the plate should
-immediately set it free from this force; for the currents
-which have to be formed by the two poles are in contrary
-directions.' And in Article 1114 of his _Researches_, the
-same eminent philosopher infers that if electricity and
-magnetism are considered as the results of a peculiar agent
-or condition, exerted in determinate directions
-perpendicular to each other, one must be by some means
-convertible into the other; and this he was afterwards able
-to prove to be the case in fact.
-
-[Note 8\5: _Researches_, 244.]
-
-{375} Thus the principle that the Co-existent Polarities of
-magnetism and electricity are connected and fundamentally
-identical, is not only true, but is far from being either
-vague or barren. It has been a fertile source both of
-theories which have, at present, a very great probability,
-and of the discovery of new and striking facts. We proceed
-to consider other similar cases.
-
-5. _Connexion of Electrical and Chemical Polarities._--The
-doctrine that the chemical forces by which the elements of
-bodies are held together or separated, are identical with
-the polar forces of electricity, is a great discovery of
-modern times; so great and so recent, indeed, that probably
-men of science in general have hardly yet obtained a clear
-view and firm hold of this truth. This doctrine is now,
-however, entirely established in the minds of the most
-profound and philosophical chemists of our time. The
-complete development and confirmation of this as of other
-great truths, was preceded by more vague and confused
-opinions gradually tending to this point; and the progress
-of thought and of research was impelled and guided, in this
-as in similar cases, by the persuasion that these
-co-existent polarities could not fail to be closely
-connected with each other. While the ultimate and exact
-theory to which previous incomplete and transitory theories
-tended is still so new and so unfamiliar, it must needs be a
-matter of difficulty and responsibility for a common reader
-to describe the steps by which truth has advanced from point
-to point. I shall, therefore, in doing this, guide myself
-mainly by the historical sketches of the progress of this
-great theory, which, fortunately for us, have been given us
-by the two philosophers who have played by far the most
-important parts in the discovery, Davy and Faraday.
-
-It will be observed that we are concerned here with the
-progress of theory, and not of experiment, except so far as
-it is confirmatory of theory. In Davy's Memoir[9\5] of 1826,
-on the Relations of Electrical and {376} Chemical Changes,
-he gives the historical details to which I have alluded.
-Already in 1802 he had conjectured that all chemical
-decompositions might be polar. In 1806 he attempted to
-confirm this conjecture, and succeeded, to his own
-satisfaction, in establishing[10\5] that the combinations
-and decompositions by electricity were referable to the law
-of electrical attractions and repulsions; and advanced the
-hypothesis (as he calls it), that chemical and electrical
-attractions were produced by the same cause, acting in one
-case on particles, in the other on masses. This hypothesis
-was most strikingly confirmed by the author's being able to
-use electrical agency as a more powerful means of chemical
-decomposition than any which had yet been applied.
-'Believing,' he adds, 'that our philosophical systems are
-exceedingly imperfect, I never attached much importance to
-this hypothesis; but having formed it after a copious
-induction of facts, and having gained by the application of
-it a number of practical results, and considering myself as
-much the author of it as I was of the decomposition of the
-alkalies, and having developed it in an elementary work as
-far as the present state of chemistry seemed to allow, I
-have never,' he says, 'criticised or examined the manner in
-which different authors have adopted or explained it,
-contented, if in the hands of others, it assisted the
-arrangements of chemistry or mineralogy, or became an
-instrument of discovery.' When the doctrine had found an
-extensive acceptance among chemists, attempts were made to
-show that it had been asserted by earlier writers: and
-though Davy justly denies all value to these pretended
-anticipations, they serve to show, however dimly, the
-working of that conviction of the Connexion of Co-existent
-Properties which all along presided in men's minds during
-this course of investigation. 'Ritter and Winterl have been
-quoted,' Davy says[11\5], 'among other persons, as having
-imagined or anticipated the relation between electrical
-powers and chemical affinities before the discovery of the
-pile {377} of Volta. But whoever will read with attention
-Ritter's "Evidence that Galvanic action exists in organised
-nature," and **Winterl's _Prolusiones ad Chemiam sæculi decimi
-noni_, will find nothing to justify this opinion.' He then
-refers to the Queries of Newton at the end of his Optics.
-'These,' he says, 'contain more grand and speculative views
-that might be brought to bear upon this question than any
-found in the works of modern electricians; but it is very
-unjust to the experimentalists who by the laborious
-application of new instruments, have discovered novel facts
-and analogies, to refer them to any such suppositions as
-that all attractions, chemical, electrical, magnetical, and
-gravitative, may depend upon the same cause.' It is
-perfectly true, that such vague opinions, though arising
-from that tendency to generalize which is the essence of
-science, are of no value except so far as they are both
-rendered intelligible, and confirmed by experimental
-research.
-
-[Note 9\5: _Phil. Trans._ 1826, p. 383.]
-
-[Note 10\5: _Phil. Trans._ 1826, p. 389.]
-
-[Note 11\5: _Ibid._ p. 384.]
-
-The phenomena of chemical decomposition by means of the
-voltaic pile, however, led other persons to views very
-similar to those of Davy. Thus Grotthus in 1805[12\5]
-published an hypothesis of the same kind. 'The pile of
-Volta,' he says, 'is an electrical magnet, of which each
-element, that is, each pair of plates, has a positive and a
-negative pole. The consideration of this polarity suggested
-to me the idea that a similar polarity may come into play
-between the elementary particles of water when acted upon by
-the same electrical agent; and I avow that this thought was
-for me a flash of light.'
-
-[Note 12\5: _Ann. Chim._ lxviii. 54.]
-
-6. The thought, however, though thus brought into being, was
-very far from being as yet freed from vagueness,
-superfluities, and errours. I have elsewhere noticed[13\5]
-Faraday's remark on Davy's celebrated Memoir of 1806; that
-'the mode of action by which the effects take place is
-stated very generally, so generally, indeed, that probably a
-dozen precise schemes of electro-chemical action might be
-drawn up, differing {378} essentially from each other, yet
-all agreeing with the statement there given.' When Davy and
-others proceeded to give a little more definiteness and
-precision to the statement of their views, they soon
-introduced into the theory features which it was afterwards
-found necessary to abandon. Thus[14\5] both Davy, Grotthus,
-Riffault, and Chompré, ascribed electrical decomposition to
-the action of the _poles_, and some of them even pretended
-to assign the proportion in which the force of the pole
-diminishes as the distance from it increases. Faraday, as I
-have already stated, showed that the polarity must be
-considered as residing not only in what had till then been
-called the _poles_, but at every point of the circuit. He
-ascribed[15\5] electro-chemical decomposition to internal
-forces, residing in the _particles_ of the matter under
-decomposition, not to external forces, exerted by the poles.
-Hence he shortly afterwards[16\5] proposed to reject the
-word _poles_ altogether, and to employ instead, the term
-_electrode_, meaning the doors or passages (of whatever
-surface formed) by which the decomposed elements pass out.
-What have been called the _positive_ and _negative_ poles he
-further termed the _Anode_ and _Cathode_; and he introduced
-some other changes in nomenclature connected with these. He
-then, as I have related in the History[17\5], invented the
-Volta-electrometer, which enabled him to measure the
-quantity of voltaic action, and this he found to be
-identical with the quantity of chemical affinity; and he was
-thus led to the clearest view of the truth towards which he
-and his predecessors had so long been travelling, that
-electrical and chemical forces are identical[18\5].
-
-[Note 13\5: _Hist. Ind. Sc._ b. xiv. c. ix. sect. 1.]
-
-[Note 14\5: See Faraday's Historical Sketch, _Researches_,
-481-492.]
-
-[Note 15\5: Art. 524.]
-
-[Note 16\5: In 1834. Eleventh Series of Researches. Art. 662.]
-
-[Note 17\5: _Hist. Ind. Sc._ b. xiv. c. ix. sect. 2.]
-
-[Note 18\5: Arts. 915, 916, 917.]
-
-7. It will, perhaps, be said that this beautiful train of
-discovery was entirely due to experiment, and not to any _à
-priori_ conviction that co-existent polarities {379} must be
-connected. I trust I have sufficiently stated that such an
-_à priori_ principle could not be proved, nor even
-understood, without a most laborious and enlightened use of
-experiment; but yet I think that the doctrine, when once
-fully unfolded, exhibited clearly, and established as true,
-takes possession of the mind with a more entire conviction
-of its certainty and universality, in virtue of the
-principle we are now considering. When the theory has
-assumed so simple a form, it appears to derive immense
-probability (to say the least) from its simplicity. Like the
-laws of motion, when stated in its most general form, it
-appears to carry with it its own evidence. And thus this
-great theory borrows something of its character from the
-Ideas which it involves, as well as from the Experiments by
-which it was established.
-
-8. We may find in many of Mr. Faraday's subsequent
-reasonings, clear evidence that this idea of the Connexion
-of Polarities, as now developed, is not limited in its
-application to facts already known experimentally, but, like
-other ideas, determines the philosopher's researches into
-the unknown, and gives us the _form_ of knowledge even
-before we possess the _matter_. Thus, he says, in his
-Thirteenth Series[19\5], 'I have long sought, and still
-seek, for an effect or condition which shall be to statical
-electricity what magnetic force is to current electricity;
-for as the lines of discharge are associated with a certain
-transverse effect, so it appeared to me impossible but that
-the lines of tension or of inductive action, which of
-necessity precede the discharge, should also have their
-correspondent transverse condition or effect.' Other similar
-passages might be found.
-
-[Note 19\5: Art. 1658.]
-
-I will now consider another case to which we may apply the
-Principle of Connected Polarities.
-
-9. _Connexion of Chemical and Crystalline Polarities._--The
-close connexion between the Chemical Affinity and the
-Crystalline Attraction of elements cannot be overlooked.
-Bodies never crystallize but when their elements combine
-chemically; and solid bodies which {380} combine, when they
-do it most completely and exactly, also crystallize. The
-forces which _hold together_ the elements of a crystal of
-alum are the same forces which make it a _crystal_. There is
-no distinguishing between the two sets of forces.
-
-Both _chemical_ and _crystalline_ forces are _polar_, as we
-stated in the last chapter; but the polarity in the two
-cases is of a different kind. The polarity of chemical
-forces is then put in the most distinct form, when it is
-identified with electrical polarity; the polarity of the
-particles of crystals has reference to their geometrical
-form. And it is clear that these two kinds of polarity must
-be connected. Accordingly, Berzelius expressly asserts[20\5]
-the necessary identity of these two polarities. 'The regular
-forms of bodies suppose a polarity which _can be_ no other
-than an electric or magnetic polarity.' This being so
-seemingly inevitable, we might expect to find the electric
-forces manifesting some relation to the definite directions
-of crystalline forms. Mr. Faraday tried, but in vain, to
-detect some such relation. He attempted to ascertain[21\5]
-whether a cube of rock crystal transmitted the electrical
-force of tension with different intensity along and across
-the axis of the crystal. In the first specimen there seemed
-to be some difference; but in other experiments, made both
-with rock crystal and with calc spar, this difference
-disappeared. Although therefore we may venture to assert
-that there must be some very close connexion between
-electrical and crystalline forces, we are, as yet, quite
-ignorant what the nature of the connexion is, and in what
-kind of phenomena it will manifest itself.
-
-[Note 20\5: _Essay on Chemical Prop._ 113.]
-
-[Note 21\5: _Researches_. Art. 1689.]
-
-10. _Connexion of Crystalline and Optical
-Polarities._--Crystals present to us _optical_ phenomena
-which have a manifestly polar character. The double
-refraction, both of uniaxal and of biaxal crystals, is
-always accompanied with opposite polarization of the two
-rays; and in this and in other ways light is polarized in
-directions dependent upon the axes of the crystalline form,
-that is, on the directions of the polarities of the {381}
-crystalline particles. The identity of these two kinds of
-polarity (crystalline and optical) is too obvious to need
-insisting on; and it is not necessary for us here to decide
-by what hypothesis this identity may most properly be
-represented. We may hereafter perhaps find ourselves
-justified in considering the crystalline forces as
-determining the _elasticity_ of the luminiferous ether to be
-different in _different directions_ within the crystal, and
-thus as determining the refraction and polarization of the
-light which the crystal transmits. But at present we merely
-note this case as an additional example of the manifest
-connexion and fundamental identity of two co-existent
-polarities.
-
-11. _Connexion of Polarities in general._--Thus we find that
-the Connexion of different kinds of Polarities, magnetic,
-electric, chemical, crystalline, and optical, is certain as
-a truth of experimental science. We have attempted to show
-further that in the minds of several of the most eminent
-discoverers and philosophers, such a conviction is something
-more than a mere empirical result: it is a principle which
-has regulated their researches while it was still but
-obscurely seen and imperfectly unfolded, and has given to
-their theories a character of generality and self-evidence
-which experience alone cannot bestow.
-
-It will, perhaps, be said that these doctrines,--that
-scientific researches may usefully be directed by principles
-in themselves vague and obscure;--that theories may have an
-evidence superior to and anterior to experience;--are
-doctrines in the highest degree dangerous, and utterly at
-variance with the soundest maxims of modern times respecting
-the cultivation of science.
-
-In the justice and wisdom of this caution I entirely agree:
-and although I have shown that this principle of the
-_Connexion of Polarities_, rightly interpreted and
-established in each case by experiment, involves profound
-and comprehensive truths; I think it no less important to
-remark that, at least in the present stage of our knowledge,
-we can make no use of this principle without taking care, at
-every step, to determine by {382} clear and decisive
-experiments, its proper meaning and application. All
-endeavours to proceed otherwise have led, and must lead, to
-ignorance and confusion. Attempts to deduce from our bare
-Idea of Polarity, and our fundamental convictions respecting
-the connexion of polarities, theories concerning the forces
-which really exist in nature, can hardly have any other
-result than to bewilder men's minds, and to misdirect their
-efforts.
-
-So far, indeed, as this persuasion of a connexion among
-apparently different kinds of agencies, impels men, engaged
-in the pursuit of knowledge, to collect observations, to
-multiply, repeat, and vary experiments, and to contemplate
-the result of these in all aspects and relations, it may be
-an occasion of the most important discoveries. Accordingly
-we find that the great laws of phenomena which govern the
-motions of the planets about the sun, were first discovered
-by Kepler, in consequence of his scrutinizing the recorded
-observations with an intense conviction of the existence of
-geometrical and arithmetical harmonies in the solar system.
-Perhaps we may consider the discovery of the connexion of
-magnetism and electricity by Professor Œrsted in 1820, as an
-example somewhat of the same kind; for he also was a
-believer in certain comprehensive but undefined relations
-among the properties of bodies; and in consequence of such
-views entertained great admiration for the _Prologue to the
-Chemistry of the Nineteenth Century_, of Winterl, already
-mentioned. M. Œrsted, in 1803, published a summary of this
-work; and in so doing, praised the views of Winterl as far
-more profound and comprehensive than those of Lavoisier.
-Soon afterwards a Review of this publication appeared in
-France[22\5], in which it was spoken of as a work only fit
-for the dark ages, and as the indication of a sect which had
-for some time 'ravaged Germany,' and inundated that country
-with extravagant and unintelligible mysticism. It was,
-therefore, a kind of triumph to M. Œrsted to be, after {383}
-some years' labour, the author of one of the most remarkable
-and fertile physical discoveries of his time.
-
-[Note 22\5: _Ann. Chim._, Tom. 1. (1804), p. 191.]
-
-12. It was not indeed without some reason that certain of
-the German philosophers were accused of dealing in doctrines
-vast and profound in their aspect, but, in reality,
-indefinite, ambiguous, and inapplicable. And the most
-prominent of such doctrines had reference to the principle
-now under our consideration; they represented the properties
-of bodies as consisting in certain polarities, and professed
-to deduce, from the very nature of things, with little or no
-reference to experiment, the existence and connexion of
-these polarities. Thus Schelling, in his _Ideas towards a
-Philosophy of Nature_, published in 1803, says[23\5],
-'Magnetism is the universal act of investing Multiplicity
-with Unity; but the universal form of the reduction of
-Multiplicity to Unity is the Line, pure Longitudinal
-Extension: hence Magnetism is determination of pure
-Longitudinal Extension; and as this manifests itself by
-absolute Cohesion, Magnetism is the determination of
-absolute Cohesion.' And as Magnetism was, by such reasoning,
-conceived to be proved as a universal property of matter,
-Schelling asserted it to be a confirmation of his views when
-it was discovered that other bodies besides iron are
-magnetic. In like manner he used such expressions as the
-following[24\5]: 'The threefold character of the Universal,
-the Particular, and the Indifference of the two,--as
-expressed in their Identity, is Magnetism, as expressed in
-their Difference, is Electricity, and as expressed in the
-Totality, is Chemical Process. Thus these forms are only one
-form; and the Chemical Process is a mere transfer of the
-three Points of Magnetism into the Triangle of Chemistry.'
-
-[Note 23\5: P. 223.]
-
-[Note 24\5: P. 486.]
-
-It was very natural that the chemists should refuse to
-acknowledge, in this fanciful and vague language,
-(delivered, however, it is to be recollected, in 1803,) an
-anticipation of Davy's doctrine of the identity of
-electrical and chemical forces, or of Œrsted's {384}
-electro-magnetic agency. Yet it was perhaps no less natural
-that the author of such assertions should look upon every
-great step in the electro-chemical theory as an illustration
-of his own doctrines. Accordingly we find Schelling
-welcoming, with a due sense of their importance, the
-discoveries of Faraday. When he heard of the experiment in
-which electricity was produced from common magnetism, he
-fastened with enthusiasm upon the discovery, even before he
-knew any of its details, and proclaimed it at a public
-meeting of a scientific body[25\5] as one of the most
-important advances of modern science. We have (he thus
-reasoned) three effects of polar forces;--Electro-chemical
-Decomposition, Electrical Action, Magnetism. Volta and Davy
-had confirmed experimentally the identity of the two former
-agencies: Œrsted showed that a closed voltaic circuit
-acquired magnetic properties: but in order to exhibit the
-identity of electric and magnetic action it was requisite
-that electric forces should be extricated from magnetic.
-This great step Faraday, he remarked, had made, in producing
-the electric spark by means of magnets.
-
-[Note 25\5: Ueber Faraday's _Neueste Entdeckung_. München. 1832.]
-
-13. Although conjectures and assertions of the kind thus put
-forth by Schelling involve a persuasion of the pervading
-influence and connexion of polarities, which persuasion has
-already been confirmed in many instances, they involve this
-principle in a manner so vague and ambiguous that it can
-rarely, in such a form, be of any use or value. Such views
-of polarity can never teach us in what cases we are and in
-what we are not expected to find polar relations; and indeed
-tend rather to diffuse error and confusion, than to promote
-knowledge. Accordingly we cannot be surprized to find such
-doctrines put forward by their authors as an evidence of the
-small value and small necessity of experimental science.
-This is done by the celebrated metaphysician Hegel, in his
-_Encyclopædia_[26\5]. 'Since,' {385} says he, 'the plane of
-incidence and of reflection in simple reflection is the same
-plane, when a second reflector is introduced which further
-distributes the illumination reflected from the first, the
-position of the first plane with respect to the second
-plane, containing the direction of the first reflection and
-of the second, has its influence upon the position,
-illumination or darkening of the object as it appears by the
-second reflection. This influence must be the strongest when
-the two planes are what we must call _negatively_ related to
-each other:--that is, when they are at right angles.' 'But,'
-he adds, 'when men infer (as Malus has done) from the
-modification which is produced by this situation, in the
-illumination of the reflection, that the molecules of light
-in themselves, that is, on their different sides, possess
-different physical energies; and when on this foundation,
-along with the phenomena of entoptical colours therewith
-connected, a wide labyrinth of the most complex theory is
-erected; we have then one of the most remarkable examples of
-the _inferences_ of physics from experiment.' If Hegel's
-reasoning prove anything, it must prove that polarization
-always accompanies reflection under such circumstances as he
-describes: yet all physical philosophers know that in the
-case of metals, in which the reflection is most complete,
-light is not completely polarized at any angle; and that in
-other substances the polarization depends upon various
-circumstances which show how idle and inapplicable is the
-account which he thus gives of the property. His
-self-complacent remark about the inferences of physics from
-experiment, is intended to recommend by comparison his own
-method of considering the nature of 'things in themselves;'
-a mode of obtaining physical truth which had been more than
-exhausted by Aristotle, and out of which no new attempts
-have extracted anything of value since his time.
-
-[Note 26\5: Sec. 278.]
-
-14. Thus the general conclusion to which we are led on this
-subject, is, that the persuasion of the existence and
-Connexion or Identity of various Polarities in nature,
-although very naturally admitted, and in many {386} cases
-interpreted and confirmed by observed facts, is of itself,
-so far as we at present possess it, a very insecure guide to
-scientific doctrines. When it is allowed to dictate our
-theories, instead of animating and extending our
-experimental researches, it leads only to errour, confusion,
-obscurity, and mysticism.
-
-This Fifth Book, on the subject of Polarities, is a short
-one compared with most of the others. This arises in a great
-measure from the circumstance that the Idea of Polarity has
-only recently been apprehended and applied, with any great
-degree of clearness, among physical philosophers; and is
-even yet probably entertained in an obscure and ambiguous
-manner by most experimental inquirers. I have been desirous
-of not attempting to bring forward any doctrines upon the
-subject, except such as have been fully illustrated and
-exemplified by the acknowledged progress of the physical
-sciences. If I had been willing to discuss the various
-speculations which have been published respecting the
-universal prevalence of Polarities in the universe, and
-their results in every province of nature, I might easily
-have presented this subject in a more extended form; but
-this would not have been consistent with my plan of tracing
-the influence of scientific Ideas only so far as they have
-really aided in disclosing and developing scientific truths.
-And as the influence of this Idea is clearly distinguishable
-both from those which precede and those which follow, in the
-character of the sciences to which it gives rise, and as it
-appears likely to be hereafter of great extent and
-consequence, it seemed better to treat of it in a separate
-Book, although of a brevity disproportioned to the rest.
-
-
-
-
-END OF VOL. I.
-
-
-
-Cambridge: Printed at the University Press.
-
-
-
-
-HISTORY
-OF
-SCIENTIFIC IDEAS.
-
-
-
-VOLUME II.
-
-
-
-
-Cambridge;
-PRINTED BY C. J. CLAY, M.A.
-AT THE UNIVERSITY PRESS.
-
-
-
-HISTORY
-OF
-SCIENTIFIC IDEAS.
-
-BY WILLIAM WHEWELL, D.D.,
-MASTER OF TRINITY COLLEGE, CAMBRIDGE, AND
-CORRESPONDING MEMBER OF THE INSTITUTE OF FRANCE.
-
-
-
-BEING THE FIRST PART OF THE PHILOSOPHY
-OF THE INDUCTIVE SCIENCES.
-
-
-
-_THE THIRD EDITION._
-
-IN TWO VOLUMES.
-
-
-ΛΑΜΠΑΔIΑ ΕΧΟΝΤΕΣ ΔIΑΔΩΣΟΥΣIΝ ΑΛΛΗΛΟIΣ
-
-
-VOLUME II.
-
-
-
-LONDON:
-JOHN W. PARKER AND SON, WEST STRAND.
-1858.
-
-
-CONTENTS
-OF
-THE SECOND VOLUME.
-
-
-BOOK VI.
-
-THE PHILOSOPHY OF CHEMISTRY.
-
- PAGE
-CHAP. I. ATTEMPTS TO CONCEIVE ELEMENTARY COMPOSITION 3
-
- _Art._ 1. Fundamental Ideas of Chemistry.
- 2. Elements.
- 3. Do Compounds resemble their Elements?
- 4. The Three Principles.
- 5. A Modern Errour.
- 6. Are Compounds determined by the Figure of Elements?
- 7. Crystalline Form depends on Figure of Elements.
- 8. Are Compounds determined by Mechanical Attraction
- of Elements?
- 9. Newton's followers.
- 10. Imperfection of their Hypotheses.
-
-CHAP. II. ESTABLISHMENT AND DEVELOPMENT OF THE IDEA OF
- CHEMICAL AFFINITY 15
-
- _Art._ 1. Early Chemists.
- 2. Chemical Affinity.
- 3. Affinity or Attraction?
- 4. Affinity preferable.
- 5. Analysis is possible.
-{vi}
- 6. Affinity is Elective.
- 7. Controversy on this.
- 8. Affinity is Definite.
- 9. Are these Principles necessarily true?
- 10. Composition determines Properties.
- 11. Comparison on this subject.
- 12. Composition determines Crystalline Form.
-
-CHAP. III. OF THE IDEA OF SUBSTANCE 29
-
- _Art._ 1. Indestructibility of Substance.
- 2. The Idea of Substance.
- 3. Locke's Denial of Substance.
- 4. Is all Substance heavy?
- Note on Sir W. Hamilton's objections 37
-
-CHAP. IV. APPLICATION OF THE IDEA OF SUBSTANCE IN CHEMISTRY 39
-
- _Art._ 1. A Body is Equal to its Elements.
- 2. Lavoisier.
- 3. Are there Imponderable Elements?
- 4. Faraday's views.
- 5. Composition of Water.
- 6. Heat in Chemistry.
-
-CHAP. V. THE ATOMIC THEORY 48
-
- _Art._ 1. The Theory on Chemical Grounds.
- 2. Hypothesis of Atoms.
- 3. Its Chemical Difficulties.
- 4. Grounds of the Atomic Doctrine.
- 5. Ancient Atomists.
- 6. Francis Bacon.
- 7. Modern Atomists.
- 8. Arguments for and against.
- 9. Boscovich's Theory.
- 10. Molecular Hypothesis.
- 11. Poisson's Inference.
- 12. Wollaston's Argument.
- 13. Properties are Permanent.
-{vii}
-BOOK VII.
-
-THE PHILOSOPHY OF MORPHOLOGY, INCLUDING CRYSTALLOGRAPHY.
-
-CHAP. I. EXPLICATION OF THE IDEA OF SYMMETRY 67
-
- _Art._ 1. Symmetry, what.
- 2. Kinds of Symmetry.
- 3. Examples in Nature.
- 4. Vegetables and Animals.
- 5. Symmetry a Fundamental Idea.
- 6. Result of Symmetry.
-
-CHAP. II. APPLICATION OF THE IDEA OF SYMMETRY TO CRYSTALS 75
-
- _Art._ 1. 'Fundamental Forms.'
- 2. Their use.
- 3. 'Systems of Crystallization.'
- 4. Cleavage.
- 5. Other Properties.
-
-CHAP. III. SPECULATIONS FOUNDED UPON THE SYMMETRY OF CRYSTALS 80
-
- _Art._ 1. Integrant Molecules.
- 2. Difficulties of the Theory.
- 3. Merit of the Theory.
- 4. Wollaston's Hypothesis.
- 5. Maxim for such Hypotheses.
- 6. Dalton's Hypothesis.
- 7. Ampère's Hypothesis.
- 8. Difficulty of such Hypotheses.
- 9. Isomorphism.
-{viii}
-BOOK VIII.
-
-PHILOSOPHY OF THE CLASSIFICATORY SCIENCES.
-
-CHAP. I. THE IDEA OF LIKENESS AS GOVERNING THE USE OF
- COMMON NAMES 95
-
- _Art._ 1. Object of the Chapter.
- 2. Unity of the Individual.
- 3. Condition of Unity.
- 4. Kinds.
- 5. Not made by Definitions.
- 6. Condition of the Use of Terms.
- 7. Terms may have different Uses.
- 8. Gradation of Kinds.
- 9. Characters of Kinds.
- 10. Difficulty of Definitions.
- 11. 'The Five Words.'
-
-CHAP. II. THE METHODS OF NATURAL HISTORY, AS REGULATED
- BY THE IDEA OF LIKENESS 108
-
-_Sect._ I. _Natural History in General._
- _Art._ 1. Idea of Likeness in Natural History.
- 2. Condition of its Use.
-
-_Sect._ II. _Terminology._
- _Art._ 3. Meaning of the word.
-
-_Sect._ III. _The Plan of the System._
- _Art._ 4. Its Meaning.
- 5. Latent Reference to Natural Affinity.
- 6. Natural Classes.
- 7. Artificial Classes.
- 8. Are Genera Natural?
- 9. Natural History and Mathematics.
- 10. Natural Groups given by Type, not by Definition.
- 11. Physiography.
- 12. Artificial and Natural Systems.
-{ix}
-_Sect._ IV. _Methods of framing Natural Systems._
- _Art._ 13. Method of Blind Trial.
- 14. Method of General Comparison.
-
-_Sect._ V. _Gradation of Groups._
- _Art._ 15. Series of Subdivisions.
- 16. What is a Species?
- 17. The _words_ 'Species' and 'Genus.'
- 18. Varieties. Races.
-
-_Sect._ VI. _Nomenclature._
- _Art._ 19. Binary Nomenclature.
-
-_Sect._ VII. _Diagnosis._
- _Art._ 20. Characteristick and Systematick.
-
-CHAP. III. APPLICATION OF THE NATURAL HISTORY METHOD
- TO MINERALOGY 138
-
- _Art._ 1. Mohs's System.
- 2. His 'Characteristick.'
- 3. Mineral _Species_ not yet well fixed.
- 4. _Orders_ of Minerals.
- 5. Nomenclature of Minerals.
- 6. M. Necker's 'Règne Mineral.'
- 7. Inconvenience of taking a Chemical Basis of
- Mineral Systems.
- 8. Relation of Natural History and Chemistry.
- 9. What is a Mineralogical Individual?
- 10. A well-formed Crystal is an Individual.
- 11. Not the Integrant Molecules,
- 12. Nor the Cleavage Forms.
- 13. Compound Crystals are not Individuals.
- 14. Crystalline Forms are sufficiently complete for
- this.
- 15. Including aggregate Masses.
- 16. Do Artificial Crystals belong to Mineralogy?
- 17. The Mineralogical Individual extends as far as
- the same Crystalline Axes extend.
- 18. Artificial Crystals do belong to Mineralogy:
-{x}
- 19. Cannot be excluded.
- 20. Species to be determined by the Crystalline Power.
- 21. Secondary Derivative Forms are Varieties:
- 22. Are not Species, as M. Necker holds.
-
-CHAP. IV. OF THE IDEA OF NATURAL AFFINITY 159
-
- _Art._ 1. The Idea of Affinity
- 2. Is not to be made out by Arbitrary Rules.
- 3. Functions of Living things are many,
- 4. But all lead to the same arrangement.
- 5. This is Cuvier's principle:
- 6. And Decandolle's.
- 7. Is this applicable to Inorganic Bodies?
- 8. Yes; by the agreement of Physical and
- Chemical Arrangement.
-
-
-BOOK IX.
-
-THE PHILOSOPHY OF BIOLOGY.
-
-CHAP. 1. ANALOGY OF BIOLOGY WITH OTHER SCIENCES. 169
-
- _Art._ 1. Biology involves the Idea of Life.
- 2. This Idea to be historically traced.
- 3. The Idea at first expressed by means of other
- Ideas.
- 4. Mystical, Mechanical, Chemical, and Vital
- Fluid Hypotheses.
-
-CHAP. II. SUCCESSIVE BIOLOGICAL HYPOTHESES 174
-
-_Sect._ I. _The Mystical School._
-
-_Sect._ II. _The Iatrochemical School._
-
-_Sect._ III. _The Iatromathematical School._
-
-_Sect._ IV. _The Vital Fluid School._
-
-_Sect._ V. _The Psychical School._
-{xi}
-
-CHAP. III. ATTEMPTS TO ANALYSE THE IDEA OF LIFE 195
-
- _Art._ 1. Definitions of Life,
- 2. By Stahl, Humboldt, Kant.
- 3. Definition of Organization by Kant.
- 4. Life is a System of Functions.
- 5. Bichat. _Sum_ of Functions.
- 6. Use of Definition.
- 7. Cuvier's view.
- 8. Classifications of Functions.
- 9. Vital, Natural, and Animal Functions.
- 10. Bichat. Organic and Animal Life.
- 11. Use of this Classification.
-
-CHAP. IV. ATTEMPTS TO FORM IDEAS OF SEPARATE VITAL FORCES,
- AND FIRST, OF ASSIMILATION AND SECRETION 203
-
-_Sect._ I. _Course of Biological Research._
- _Art._ 1. Observation and New Conceptions.
-
-_Sect._ II. _Attempts to form a distinct Conception
- of Assimilation and Secretion._
- _Art._ 2. The Ancients.
- 3. Buffon. Interior Mould.
- 4. Defect of this view.
- 5. Cuvier. Life a Vortex.
- 6. Defect of this view.
- 7. Schelling. Matter and Form.
- 8. Life a constant Form of circulating Matter, &c.
-
-_Sect._ III. _Attempts to conceive the Forces of
- Assimilation and Secretion._
- _Art._ 9. Assimilation is a Vital Force.
- 10. The name 'Assimilation.'
- 11. Several processes involved in Assimilation.
- 12. _Absorption_. Endosmose.
- 13. Absorption involves a Vital Force.
- 14. _Secretion_. Glands.
- 15. Motions of Vital Fluids.
-{xii}
-_Sect._ IV. _Attempts to conceive the Process of Generation._
- _Art._ 16. 'Reproduction' figuratively used for Generation.
- 17. Nutrition different from
- 18. Generation.
- 19. Generations successively included.
- 20. Pre-existence of Germs.
- 21. Difficulty of this view.
- 22. Communication of Vital Forces.
- 23. Close similarity of Nutrition and Generation.
- 24. The Identity of the two Processes exemplified.
-
-CHAP. V. ATTEMPTS TO FORM IDEAS OF SEPARATE VITAL
- FORCES, _continued_.--VOLUNTARY MOTION. 222
-
- _Art._ 1. Voluntary Motion one of the animal Functions.
- 2. Progressive knowledge of it.
- 3. Nervous Fluid not electric.
- 4. Irritability. Glisson.
- 5. Haller.
- 6. Contractility.
- 7. Organic Sensibility and Contractility not separable.
- 8. Improperly described by Bichat.
- 9. Brown.
- 10. Contractility a peculiar Power.
- 11. Cuvier's view.
- 12. Elementary contractile Action.
- 13. Strength of Muscular Fibre.
- 14. Sensations become Perceptions
- 15. By means of Ideas;
- 16. And lead to Muscular Actions.
- 17. Volition comes between Perception and Action.
- 18. Transition to Psychology,
- 19. A center is introduced.
- 20. The central consciousness may be obscure.
- 21. Reflex Muscular Action.
- 22. Instinct.
- 23. Difficulty of conceiving Instinct.
- 24. Instinct opposed to Insight.
-{xiii}
-
-CHAP. VI. OF THE IDEA OF FINAL CAUSES 239
-
- _Art._ 1. Organization. Parts are Ends and Means.
- 2. Not merely mutually dependent.
- 3. Not merely mutually Cause and Effect.
- 4. Notion of _End_ not derived from Facts.
- 5. This notion has regulated Physiology.
- 6. Notion of Design comes from within.
- 7. Design not understood by Savages.
- 8. Design opposed to Morphology.
- 9. Impression of Design when fresh.
- 10. Acknowledgement of an End by adverse Physiologists.
- 11. This included in the Notion of Disease.
- 12. It belongs to organized Creatures only.
- 13. The term Final _Cause_.
- 14. Law and Design.
- 15. Final Causes and Morphology.
- 16. Expressions of physiological Ends.
- 17. The Conditions of Existence.
- 18. The asserted presumption of Teleology.
- 19. Final Causes in other subjects.
- 20. Transition to Palætiology.
-
-
-BOOK X.
-
-THE PHILOSOPHY OF PALÆTIOLOGY.
-
-CHAP. I. OF PALÆTIOLOGICAL SCIENCES IN GENERAL. 257
-
- _Art._ 1. Description of Palætiology.
- 2. Its Members.
- 3. Other Members.
- 4. Connexion of the whole subject.
- 5. We shall take Material Sciences only;
- 6. But these are connected with others.
-
-CHAP. II. OF THE THREE MEMBERS OF A PALÆTIOLOGICAL SCIENCE 263
-
- _Art._ 1. Divisions of such Sciences.
- 2. The Study of Causes.
- 3. Ætiology.
-{xiv}
- 4. Phenomenology requires Classification. Phenomenal
- Geology.
- 5. Phenomenal Uranology.
- 6. Phenomenal Geography of Plants and Animals.
- 7. Phenomenal Glossology.
- 8. The Study of Phenomena leads to Theory.
- 9. No sound Theory without Ætiology.
- 10. Causes in Palætiology.
- 11. Various kinds of Cause.
- 12. Hypothetical Order of Palætiological Causes.
- 13. Mode of Cultivating Ætiology:--In Geology:
- 14. In the Geography of Plants and Animals:
- 15. In Languages.
- 16. Construction of Theories.
- 17. No sound Palætiological Theory yet extant.
-
-CHAP. III. OF THE DOCTRINE OF CATASTROPHES AND THE
- DOCTRINE OF UNIFORMITY 284
-
- _Art._ 1. Doctrine of Catastrophes.
- 2. Doctrine of Uniformity.
- 3. Is Uniformity probable _a priori_?
- 4. Cycle of Uniformity indefinite.
- 5. Uniformitarian Arguments are Negative only.
- 6. Uniformity in the Organic World.
- 7. Origin of the present Organic World.
- 8. Nebular Origin of the Solar System.
- 9. Origin of Languages.
- 10. No Natural Origin discoverable.
-
-CHAP. IV. OF THE RELATION OF TRADITION TO PALÆTIOLOGY 297
-
- _Art._ 1. Importance of Tradition.
- 2. Connexion of Tradition and Science.
- 3. Natural and Providential History of the World.
- 4. The Sacred Narrative.
- 5. Difficulties in interpreting the Sacred Narrative.
- 6. Such Difficulties inevitable.
- 7. Science tells us nothing concerning Creation.
-{xv}
- 8. Scientific views, when familiar, do not disturb
- the authority of Scripture.
- 9. When should Old Interpretations be given up?
- 10. In what Spirit should the Change be accepted?
- 11. In what Spirit should the Change be urged?
- 12. Duty of Mutual forbearance.
- 13. Case of Galileo.
-
-CHAP. V. OF THE CONCEPTION OF A FIRST CAUSE 316
-
- _Art._ 1. The Origin of things is not naturally discoverable;
- 2. Yet has always been sought after.
- 3. There must be a First Cause.
- 4. This is an Axiom.
- 5. Involved in the proof of a Deity.
- 6. The mind is not satisfied without it.
- 7. The Whole Course of Nature must have a Cause.
- 8. Necessary Existence of God.
- 9. Forms of the Proof.
- 10. Idea of a First Cause is Necessary.
- 11. Conception of a First Cause.
- 12. The First Cause in all Sciences is the same.
- 13. We are thus led to Moral Subjects.
-
- Conclusion of this History.
-
-
-
-
-{{1}}
-BOOK VI.
-
-
-THE
-PHILOSOPHY
-OF
-CHEMISTRY.
-
-
-
-
-A PHILOSOPHER was asked:--How much does smoke weigh? He
-answered: Subtract from the weight of the fuel the weight of
-the ashes, and thou hast the weight of the smoke. Thus he
-assumed as incontrovertible that, even in the fire, the
-Substance does not perish, only its Form undergoes a change.
-In like manner the proposition, _Nothing can come of
-Nothing_ was only another consequence of the Principle of
-Permanence, or rather of the Principle of the Enduring
-Existence of the same subject with different appearances.
-
-Kant, _Kritik d. r. Vern._
-
-
-
-{{3}}
-BOOK VI.
-
-
-THE PHILOSOPHY OF CHEMISTRY.
-
-
-CHAPTER I.
-
-ATTEMPTS TO CONCEIVE ELEMENTARY COMPOSITION.
-
-
-1. WE have now to bring into view, if possible, the Ideas
-and General Principles which are involved in Chemistry,--the
-science of the composition of bodies. For in this as in
-other parts of human knowledge, we shall find that there are
-certain Ideas, deeply seated in the mind, though shaped and
-unfolded by external observation, which are necessary
-conditions of the existence of such a science. These Ideas
-it is, which impel man to such a knowledge of the
-Composition of bodies, which give _meaning_ to _facts_
-exhibiting this composition, and _universality_ to _special_
-truths discovered by experience. These are the Ideas of
-_Element_ and of _Substance_.
-
-Unlike the Idea of Polarity, of which we treated in the last
-Book, these Ideas have been current in men's minds from very
-early times, and formed the subject of some of the first
-speculations of philosophers. It happened however, as might
-have been expected, that in the first attempts they were not
-clearly distinguished from other notions, and were
-apprehended and applied in an obscure and confused manner.
-We cannot better exhibit the peculiar character and meaning
-of these Ideas than by tracing the form which they have
-assumed {4} and the efficacy which they have exerted in
-these successive essays. This, therefore, I shall endeavour
-to do, beginning with the Idea of Element.
-
-2. That bodies are composed or made up of certain parts,
-elements, or principles, is a conception which has existed
-in men's minds from the beginning of the first attempts at
-speculative knowledge. The doctrine of the Four Elements,
-Earth, Air, Fire and Water, of which all things in the
-universe were supposed to be constituted, is one of the
-earliest forms in which this conception was systematized;
-and this doctrine is stated by various authors to have
-existed as early as the times of the ancient Egyptians[1\6].
-The words usually employed by Greek writers to express these
-elements are ἀρχὴ a _principle_ or _beginning_, and
-στοιχεῖον, which probably meant a _letter_ (of a word)
-before it meant an _element_ of a compound. For the
-resolution of a word into its letters is undoubtedly a
-remarkable instance of a successful analysis performed at an
-early stage of man's history; and might very naturally
-supply a metaphor to denote the analysis of substances into
-their intimate parts, when men began to contemplate such an
-analysis as a subject of speculation. The Latin word
-_elementum_ itself, though by its form it appears to be a
-derivative abstract term, comes from some root now obsolete;
-probably[2\6] from a word signifying _to grow_ or _spring up_.
-
-[Note 1\6: Gilbert's _Phys._ 1. i. c. iii.]
-
-[Note 2\6: Vossius _in voce_. "Conjecto esse ab antiqua voco
-_eleo_ pro _oleo_, id est _cresco_: a qua signiflcatione
-proles, _suboles_, _adolescens_: ut ab _juratum_,
-_juramentum_; ab _adjutum_, _adjumentum_: sic ab _eletum_,
-_elementum_: quia inde omnia crescunt ac nascuntur."]
-
-The mode in which elements form the compound bodies and
-determine their properties was at first, as might be
-expected, vaguely and variously conceived. It will, I trust,
-hereafter be made clear to the reader that the relation of
-the elements to the compound involves a peculiar and
-appropriate Fundamental Idea, not susceptible of being
-correctly represented by any comparison or combination of
-other ideas, and guiding us to clear and definite results
-only when it is illustrated {5} and nourished by an abundant
-supply of experimental facts. But at first the peculiar and
-special notion which is required in a just conception of the
-constitution of bodies was neither discerned nor suspected;
-and up to a very late period in the history of chemistry,
-men went on attempting to apprehend the constitution of
-bodies more clearly by substituting for this obscure and
-recondite idea of Elementary Composition, some other idea
-more obvious, more luminous, and more familiar, such as the
-ideas of Resemblance, Position, and mechanical Force. We
-shall briefly speak of some of these attempts, and of the
-errours which were thus introduced into speculations on the
-relations of elements and compounds.
-
-3. _Compounds assumed to resemble their Elements._--The
-first notion was that compounds derive their qualities from
-their elements by _resemblance_:--they are hot in virtue of
-a hot element, heavy in virtue of a heavy element, and so
-on. In this way the doctrine of the _four elements_ was
-framed; for every body is either hot or cold, moist or dry;
-and by combining these qualities in all possible ways, men
-devised four elementary substances, as has been stated in
-the History[3\6].
-
-[Note 3\6: _Hist. Ind. Sc._ b. i. c. ii. sec. 2.]
-
-This assumption of the derivation of the qualities of bodies
-from similar qualities in the elements was, as we shall see,
-altogether baseless and unphilosophical, yet it prevailed
-long and universally. It was the foundation of medicine for
-a long period, both in Europe and Asia; disorders being
-divided into hot, cold, and the like; and remedies being
-arranged according to similar distinctions. Many readers
-will recollect, perhaps, the story[4\6] of the indignation
-which the Persian physicians felt towards the European, when
-he undertook to cure the ill effects of cucumber upon the
-patient, by means of mercurial medicine: for cucumber, which
-is cold, could not be counteracted, they maintained, by
-mercury, which in their classification is cold also. Similar
-views of the operation of medicines might {6} easily be
-traced in our own country. A moment's reflection may
-convince us that when drugs of any kind are subjected to the
-chemistry of the human stomach and thus made to operate on
-the human frame, it is utterly impossible to form the most
-remote conjecture what the result will be, from any such
-vague notions of their qualities as the common use of our
-senses can give. And in like manner the common operations of
-chemistry give rise, in almost every instance, to products
-which bear no resemblance to the materials employed. The
-results of the furnace, the alembic, the mixture, frequently
-have no visible likeness to the ingredients operated upon.
-Iron becomes steel by the addition of a little charcoal; but
-what visible trace of the charcoal is presented by the metal
-thus modified? The most beautiful colours are given to glass
-and earthenware by minute portions of the ores of black or
-dingy metals, as iron and manganese. The worker in metal,
-the painter, the dyer, the vintner, the brewer, all the
-artisans in short who deal with practical chemistry, are
-able to teach the speculative chemist that it is an utter
-mistake to expect that the qualities of the elements shall
-be still discoverable, in an unaltered form, in the
-compound. This first rude notion of an element, that it
-determines the properties of bodies _by resemblance_, must
-be utterly rejected and abandoned before we can make any
-advance towards a true apprehension of the constitution of
-bodies.
-
-[Note 4\6: See _Hadji Baba_.]
-
-4. This step accordingly was made, when the hypothesis of
-the four elements was given up, and the doctrine of the
-_three Principles_, Salt, Sulphur, and Mercury, was
-substituted in its place. For in making this change, as I
-have remarked in the History[5\6], the real advance was the
-acknowledgment of the changes, produced by the chemist's
-operations, as results to be accounted for by the union and
-separation of substantial elements, however great the
-changes, and however unlike the product might be to the
-materials. And this step once made, chemists went on
-constantly {7} advancing towards a truer view of the nature
-of an element, and consequently, towards a more satisfactory
-theory of chemical operations.
-
-[Note 5\6: _Hist. Ind. Sc._ b. iv. c. 1.]
-
-5. Yet we may, I think, note one instance, even in the works
-of eminent modern chemists, in which this maxim, that we
-have no right to expect any resemblance between the elements
-and the compound, is lost sight of. I speak of certain
-classifications of mineral substances. Berzelius, in his
-System of Mineral Arrangement, places _sulphur_ next to the
-_sulphurets_. But surely this is an errour, involving the
-ancient assumption of the resemblance of elements and
-compounds; as if we were to expect the sulphurets to bear a
-resemblance to sulphur. All classifications are intended to
-bring together things resembling each other: the sulphurets
-of metals have certain general resemblances to each other
-which make them a tolerably distinct, well determined, class
-of bodies. But sulphur has no resemblances with these, and
-no analogies with them, either in physical or even in
-chemical properties. It is a simple body; and both its
-resemblances and its analogies direct us to place it along
-with other simple bodies, (selenium, and phosphorus,) which,
-united with metals, produce compounds not very different
-from the sulphurets. Sulphur cannot be, nor approach to
-being, a sulphuret; we must not confound what it _is_ with
-what it _makes_. Sulphur has its proper influence in
-determining the properties of the compound into which it
-enters; but it does not do this according to resemblance of
-qualities, or according to any principle which properly
-leads to propinquity in classification.
-
-6. _Compounds assumed to be determined by the Figure of
-Elements._--I pass over the fanciful modes of representing
-chemical changes which were employed by the Alchemists; for
-these strange inventions did little in leading men towards a
-juster view of the relations of elements to compounds. I
-proceed for an instant to the attempt to substitute another
-obvious conception for the still obscure notion of
-elementary composition. It was imagined that all the
-properties of bodies and their mutual operations might be
-{8} accounted for by supposing them constituted of
-_particles_ of various _forms_, round or angular, pointed or
-hooked, straight or spiral. This is a very ancient
-hypothesis, and a favourite one with many casual speculators
-in all ages. Thus Lucretius undertakes to explain why wine
-passes rapidly through a sieve and oil slowly, by telling us
-that the latter substance has its particles either larger
-than those of the other, or more hooked and interwoven
-together. And he accounts for the difference of sweet and
-bitter by supposing the particles in the former case to be
-round and smooth, in the latter sharp and jagged[6\6].
-Similar assumptions prevailed in modern times on the revival
-of the mechanical philosophy, and constitute a large part of
-the physical schemes of Descartes and Gassendi. They were
-also adopted to a considerable extent by the chemists. Acids
-were without hesitation assumed to consist of sharp pointed
-particles; which, 'I hope,' Lemery says[7\6], 'no one will
-dispute, seeing every one's experience does demonstrate it:
-he needs but taste an acid to be satisfied of it, for it
-pricks the tongue like anything keen and finely cut.' Such
-an assumption is not only altogether gratuitous and useless,
-but appears to be founded in some degree upon a confusion in
-the metaphorical and literal use of such words as _keen_ and
-_sharp_. The assumption once made, it was easy to
-accommodate it, in a manner equally arbitrary, to other
-facts. 'A demonstrative and convincing proof that an acid
-does consist of pointed parts is, that not only all acid
-salts do crystallize into edges, but all dissolutions of
-different things, caused by acid liquors, do assume this
-figure in their crystallization. These crystals consist of
-points differing both in length and bigness one from
-another, and this diversity must be attributed to the keener
-or blunter edges of the different sorts of acids: and so
-likewise this difference of the points in subtilty is the
-cause that one acid can penetrate and dissolve with one sort
-of _mixt_, that another can't rarify at all: Thus _vinegar_
-dissolves _lead_, {9} which _aqua fortis_ can't: _aqua
-fortis_ dissolves _quicksilver_, which _vinegar_ will not
-touch; _aqua regalis_ dissolves _gold_, whenas _aqua fortis_
-cannot meddle with it; on the contrary, _aqua fortis_
-dissolves _silver_, but can do nothing with gold, and so of
-the rest.'
-
-[Note 6\6: _De Rerum Natura_, ii. 390 sqq.]
-
-[Note 7\6: _Chemistry_, p. 25.]
-
-The leading fact of the vehement combination and complete
-union of acid and alkali readily suggested a fit form for
-the particles of the latter class of substances. 'This
-effect,' Lemery adds, 'may make us reasonably conjecture
-that an alkali is a terrestrious and solid matter whose
-forms are figured after such a manner that the acid points
-entering in do strike and divide whatever opposes their
-motion.' And in a like spirit are the speculations in Dr.
-Mead's _Mechanical Account of Poisons_ (1745). Thus he
-explains the poisonous effect of _corrosive sublimate_ of
-mercury by saying[8\6] that the particles of the salt are a
-kind of lamellæ or blades to which the mercury gives an
-additional weight. If resublimed with three-fourths the
-quantity of mercury, it loses its corrosiveness, (becoming
-_calomel_,) which arises from this, that in sublimation 'the
-crystalline blades are divided every time more and more by
-the force of the fire:' and 'the broken pieces of the
-crystals uniting into little masses of differing figures
-from their former make, those cutting points are now so much
-smaller that they cannot make wounds deep enough to be
-equally mischievous and deadly: and therefore do only
-vellicate and twitch the sensible membranes of the stomach.'
-
-[Note 8\6: P. 199.]
-
-7. Among all this very fanciful and gratuitous assumption we
-may notice one true principle clearly introduced, namely,
-that the suppositions which we make respecting the forms of
-the elementary particles of bodies and their mode of
-combination must be such as to explain the facts of
-crystallization, as well as of mere chemical change. This
-principle we shall hereafter have occasion to insist upon
-further.
-
-I now proceed to consider a more refined form of assumption
-respecting the constitution of bodies, yet {10} still one in
-which a vain attempt is made to substitute for the peculiar
-idea of chemical composition a more familiar mechanical
-conception.
-
-8. _Compounds assumed to be determined by the Mechanical
-Attraction of the Elements._--When, in consequence of the
-investigations and discoveries of Newton and his
-predecessors, the conception of mechanical force had become
-clear and familiar, so far as the action of external forces
-upon a body was concerned, it was very natural that the
-mathematicians who had pursued this train of speculation
-should attempt to apply the same conception to that mutual
-action of the internal parts of a body by which they are
-held together. Newton himself had pointed the way to this
-attempt. In the Preface to the _Principia_, after speaking
-of what he has done in calculating the effects of forces
-upon the planets, satellites, &e., he adds, 'Would it were
-permitted us to deduce the other phenomena of nature from
-mechanical principles by the same kind of reasoning. For
-many things move me to suspect that all these phenomena
-depend upon certain forces, by which the particles of
-bodies, through causes not yet known, are either urged
-towards each other, and cohere according to regular figures,
-or are repelled and recede from each other; which forces
-being unknown, philosophers have hitherto made their
-attempts upon nature in vain.' The same thought is at a
-later period followed out further in one of the Queries at
-the end of the Opticks[9\6]. 'Have not the small particles
-of bodies certain Powers, Virtues, or Forces, by which they
-act at a distance, not only upon the rays of light for
-reflecting, refracting and inflecting them, but also upon
-one another for producing a great part of the phenomena of
-nature?' And a little further on he proceeds to apply this
-expressly to chemical changes. 'When Salt of Tartar runs
-_per deliquium_ [or as we now express it, deliquesces] is
-not this done by an _attraction_ between the particles of
-the Salt of Tartar and the particles of the water which
-float in the air in {11} the form of vapours? And why does
-not common salt, or saltpetre, or vitriol, run _per
-deliquium_, but for want of such an attraction? or why does
-not Salt of Tartar draw more water out of the air than in a
-certain proportion to its quantity, but for want of an
-attractive force after it is saturated with water?' He goes
-on to put a great number of similar cases, all tending to
-the same point, that chemical combinations cannot be
-conceived in any other way than as an attraction of
-particles.
-
-[Note 9\6: Query 31.]
-
-9. Succeeding speculators in his school attempted to follow
-out this view. Dr. Frend, of Christ Church, in 1710,
-published his _Prælectiones Chymicæ, in quibus omne fere
-Operationes Chymicæ ad vera Principia ex ipsius Naturæ
-Legibus rediguntur. Oxonii habitæ_. This book is dedicated
-to Newton, and in the dedication, the promise of advantage
-to chemistry from the influence of the Newtonian discoveries
-is spoken of somewhat largely,--much more largely, indeed,
-than has yet been justified by the sequel. After declaring
-in strong terms that the only prospect of improving science
-consists in following the footsteps of Newton, the author
-adds, 'That force of attraction, of which you first so
-successfully traced the influence in the heavenly bodies,
-operates in the most minute corpuscles, as you long ago
-hinted in your _Principia_, and have lately plainly shown in
-your _Opticks_; and this force we are only just beginning to
-perceive and to study. Under these circumstances I have been
-desirous of trying what is the result of this view in
-chemistry.' The work opens formally enough, with a statement
-of general mechanical principles, of which the most peculiar
-are these:--'That there exists an attractive force by which
-particles when at very small distances from each other, are
-drawn together;--that this force is different, according to
-the different figure and density of the particles;--that the
-force may be greater on one side of a particle than on the
-other;--that the force by which particles cohere together
-arises from attraction, and is variously modified according
-to the quantity of contacts.' But these principles are not
-{12} applied in any definite manner to the explanation of
-specific phenomena. He attempts, indeed, the question of
-special solvents[10\6]. Why does _aqua fortis_ dissolve
-silver and not gold, while _aqua regia_ dissolves gold and
-not silver? which, he says, is the most difficult question
-in chemistry, and which is certainly a fundamental question
-in the formation of chemical theory. He solves it by certain
-assumptions respecting the forces of attraction of the
-particles, and also the diameter of the particles of the
-acids and the pores of the metals, all which suppositions
-are gratuitous.
-
-[Note 10\6: P. 54.]
-
-10. We may observe further, that by speaking, as I have
-stated that he does, of the figure of particles, he mixes
-together the assumption of the last section with the one
-which we are considering in this. This combination is very
-unphilosophical, or, to say the least, very insufficient,
-since it makes a new hypothesis necessary. If a body be
-composed of cubical particles, held together by their mutual
-attraction, by what force are the parts of each cube held
-together? In order to understand their structure, we are
-obliged again to assume a cohesive force of the second
-order, binding together the particles of each particle. And
-therefore Newton himself says[11\6], very justly, 'The parts
-of all homogeneal hard bodies which fully touch each other,
-stick together very strongly: and for explaining how this
-is, some have invented hooked atoms, _which is begging the
-question_.' For (he means to imply,) how do the parts of the
-hook stick together?
-
-[Note 11\6: _Opticks_, p. 364.]
-
-The same remark is applicable to all hypotheses in which
-particles of a complex structure are assumed as the
-constituents of bodies: for while we suppose bodies and
-their known properties to result from the mutual actions of
-these particles, we are compelled to suppose the parts of
-each particle to be held together by forces still more
-difficult to conceive, since they are disclosed only by the
-properties of these particles, which as yet are unknown. Yet
-Newton himself has not abstained from such hypotheses: thus
-he says[12\6], 'A particle of {13} a salt may be compared to
-a chaos, being dense, hard, dry, and earthy in the center,
-and moist and watery in the circumference.'
-
-[Note 12\6: _Opticks_, p. 362.]
-
-Since Newton's time the use of the term _attraction_, as
-expressing the cause of the union of the chemical elements
-of bodies, has been familiarly continued; and has, no doubt,
-been accompanied in the minds of many persons with an
-obscure notion that chemical attraction is, in some way, a
-kind of mechanical attraction of the particles of bodies.
-Yet the doctrine that _chemical_ 'attraction' and
-_mechanical_ attraction are forces of the same kind has
-never, so far as I am aware, been worked out into a system
-of chemical theory; nor even applied with any distinctness
-as an explanation of any particular chemical phenomena. Any
-such attempt, indeed, could only tend to bring more clearly
-into view the entire inadequacy of such a mode of
-explanation. For the leading phenomena of chemistry are all
-of such a nature that no mechanical combination can serve to
-express them, without an immense accumulation of additional
-hypotheses. If we take as our problem the changes of colour,
-transparency, texture, taste, odour, produced by small
-changes in the ingredients, how can we expect to give a
-mechanical account of these, till we can give a mechanical
-account of colour, transparency, texture, taste, odour,
-themselves? And if our mechanical hypothesis of the
-elementary constitution of bodies does not explain _such_
-phenomena as those changes, what can it explain, or what can
-be the value of it? I do not here insist upon a remark which
-will afterwards come before us, that even crystalline form,
-a phenomenon of a far more obviously mechanical nature than
-those just alluded to, has never yet been in any degree
-explained by such assumptions as this, that bodies consist
-of elementary particles exerting forces of the same nature
-as the central forces which we contemplate in Mechanics.
-
-When therefore Newton asks, 'When some stones, as spar of
-lead, dissolved in proper menstruums, become salts, do not
-these things show that salts are dry earth and watery acid
-united by _attraction_?' we may {14} answer, that this mode
-of expression appears to be intended to identify chemical
-combination with mechanical attraction;--that there would be
-no objection to any such identification, if we could, in
-that way, explain, or even classify well, a collection of
-chemical facts; but that this has never yet been done by the
-help of such expressions. Till some advance of this kind can
-be pointed out, we must necessarily consider the power which
-produces chemical combination as a peculiar principle, a
-special relation of the elements, not rightly expressed in
-mechanical terms. And we now proceed to consider this
-relation under the name by which it is most familiarly
-known.
-
-
-
-{{15}}
-CHAPTER II.
-
-ESTABLISHMENT AND DEVELOPMENT OF THE IDEA OF CHEMICAL
-AFFINITY.
-
-
-1. THE earlier chemists did not commonly involve themselves
-in the confusion into which the mechanical philosophers ran,
-of comparing chemical to mechanical forces. Their attention
-was engaged, and their ideas were moulded, by their own
-pursuits. They saw that the connexion of elements and
-compounds with which they had to deal, was a peculiar
-relation which must be studied directly; and which must be
-understood, if understood at all, in itself, and not by
-comparison with a different class of relations. At different
-periods of the progress of chemistry, the conception of this
-relation, still vague and obscure, was expressed in various
-manners; and at last this conception was clothed in
-tolerably consistent phraseology, and the principles which
-it involved were, by the united force of thought and
-experiment, brought into view.
-
-2. The power by which the elements of bodies combine
-chemically, being, as we have seen, a peculiar agency,
-different from mere mechanical connexion or attraction, it
-is desirable to have it designated by a distinct and
-peculiar name; and the term _Affinity_ has been employed for
-that purpose by most modern chemists. The word 'affinity' in
-common language means, sometimes resemblance, and sometimes
-relationship and ties of family. It is from the latter sense
-that the metaphor is borrowed when we speak of 'chemical
-affinity.' By the employment of this term we do not indicate
-a resemblance, but a disposition to unite. Using the word in
-a common unscientific manner, we might say that chlorine,
-bromine, and iodine, have a great {16} _natural affinity_
-with each other, for there are considerable resemblances and
-analogies among them; but these bodies have very little
-_chemical_ Affinity for each other. The use of the word in
-the _former_ sense, of resemblance, can be traced in earlier
-chemists; but the word does not appear to have acquired its
-peculiar chemical meaning till after Boerhaave's time.
-Boerhaave, however, is the writer in whom we first find a
-due apprehension of the peculiarity and importance of the
-Idea which it now expresses. When we make a chemical
-solution[13\6], he says, not only are the particles of the
-dissolved body separated from each other, but they are
-closely united to the particles of the solvent. When _aqua
-regia_ dissolves gold, do you not see, he says to his
-hearers, that there must be between each particle of the
-solvent and of the metal, a mutual virtue by which each
-loves, unites with, and holds the other (_amat_, _unit_,
-_retinet_)? The opinion previously prevalent had been that
-the solvent merely separates the parts of the body
-dissolved: and most philosophers had conceived this
-separation as performed by mechanical operations of the
-particles, resembling, for instance, the operation of wedges
-breaking up a block of timber. But Boerhaave forcibly and
-earnestly points out the insufficiency of the conception.
-This, he says, does not account for what we see. We have not
-only a separation, but a new combination. There is a force
-by which the particles of the solvent associate to
-themselves the parts dissolved, not a force by which they
-repel and dissever them. We are here to imagine not
-mechanical action, not violent impulse, not antipathy, but
-love, at least if love be the desire of uniting. (Non igitur
-hic etiam actiones mechanicæ, non propulsiones violentæ, non
-inimicitiæ cogitandæ, sed amicitiæ, si amor dicendus copulæ
-cupido.) The novelty of this view is evidenced by the mode
-in which he apologizes for introducing it. 'Fateor, paradoxa
-hæc assertio.' To Boerhaave, therefore, (especially
-considering his great influence as a teacher of chemistry,)
-we may {17} assign the merit of first diffusing a proper
-view of Chemical Affinity as a peculiar force, the origin of
-almost all chemical changes and operations.
-
-[Note 13\6: _Elementa Chemiæ_, Lugd. Bat. 1732, p. 677.]
-
-3. To Boerhaave is usually assigned also the credit of
-introducing the _word_ 'Affinity' among chemists; but I do
-not find that the word is often used by him in this sense;
-perhaps not at all[14\6]. But however this may be, the term
-is, on many accounts, well worthy to be preserved, as I
-shall endeavour to show. Other terms were used in the same
-sense during the early part of the eighteenth century. Thus
-when Geoffroy, in 1718, laid before the Academy of Paris his
-Tables of Affinities, which perhaps did more than any other
-event to fix the Idea of Affinity, he termed them 'Tables of
-the Relations of Bodies;' '_Tables des Rapports_:' speaking
-however, also, of their 'disposition to unite,' and using
-other phrases of the same import.
-
-[Note 14\6: See Dumas, _Leçons de Phil. Chim._ p. 364. Rees'
-_Cyclopædia_, Art. Chemistry. In the passage of Boerhaave to
-which I refer above, _affinitas_ is rather opposed to, than
-identified with, chemical combination. When, he says, the
-parts of the body to be dissolved are dissevered by the
-solvent, why do they remain united to the particles of the
-solvent, and why do not rather both the particles of the
-solvent and of the dissolved body collect into homogeneous
-bodies by their _affinity_? 'denuo se affinitate suæ naturæ
-colligant in corpora homogenea?' And the answer is, because
-they possess another force which counteracts this affinity
-of homogeneous particles, and makes compounds of different
-elements. Affinity, in chemistry, now means the tendency of
-_different_ kinds of matter to unite: but it appears, as I
-have said, to have acquired this sense since Boerhaave's time.]
-
-The term _attraction_, having been recommended by Newton as
-a fit word to designate the force which produces chemical
-combination, continued in great favour in England, where the
-Newtonian philosophy was looked upon as applicable to every
-branch of science. In France, on the contrary, where
-Descartes still reigned triumphant, 'attraction,' the
-watch-word of the enemy, was a sound never uttered but with
-dislike and suspicion. In 1718 (in the notice of Geoffroy's
-Table,) the Secretary of the Academy, after pointing out
-some of the peculiar circumstances of chemical {18}
-combinations, says, 'Sympathies and attractions would suit
-well here, if there were such things,' 'Les sympathies, les
-attractions conviendroient bien ici, si elles étaient
-quelque chose.' And at a later period, in 1731, having to
-write the _éloge_ of Geoffroy after his death, he says, 'He
-gave, in 1718, a singular system, and a Table of
-_Affinities_, or Relations of the different substances in
-chemistry. These affinities gave an easiness to some
-persons, who feared that they were _attractions in
-disguise_, and all the more dangerous in consequence of the
-seductive forms which clever people have contrived to give
-them. It was found in the sequel that this scruple might be
-got over.'
-
-This is the earliest published instance, so far as I am
-aware, in which the word 'Affinity' is distinctly used for
-the cause of chemical composition; and taking into account
-the circumstances, the word appears to have been adopted in
-France in order to avoid the word _attraction_, which had
-the taint of Newtonianism. Accordingly we find the word
-_affinité_ employed in the works of French chemists from
-this time. Thus, in the _Transactions of the French Academy_
-for 1746, in a paper of Macquer's upon Arsenic, he
-says[15\6], 'On peut facilement rendre raison de ces
-phenomènes par le moyen des affinités que les différens
-substances qui entrent dans ces combinaisons, ont les uns
-avec les autres:' and he proceeds to explain the facts by
-reference to Geoffroy's Table. And in Macquer's _Elements of
-Chemistry_, which appeared a few years later, the 'Affinity
-of Composition' is treated of as a leading part of the
-subject, much in the same way as has been practised in such
-books up to the present time. From this period, the word
-appears to have become familiar to all European chemists in
-the sense of which we are now speaking. Thus, in the year
-1758, the Academy of Sciences at Rouen offered a prize for
-the best dissertation on Affinity. The prize was shared
-between M. Limbourg of Theux, near Liege, and M. Le Sage
-{19} of Geneva[16\6]. About the same time other persons
-(Manherr[17\6], Nicolai[18\6], and others) wrote on the same
-subject, employing the same name.
-
-[Note 15\6: _A. P._ 1746, p. 201.]
-
-[Note 16\6: Thomson's _Chemistry_, iii. 10. Limbourg's
-Dissertation was published at Liege, in 1761; and Le Sage's
-at Geneva.]
-
-[Note 17\6: _Dissertatio de Affinitate Corporum_. Vindob. 1762.]
-
-[Note 18\6: _Progr._ I. II. _de Affinitate Corporum Chimica_.
-Jen. 1775, 1776.]
-
-Nevertheless, in 1775, the Swedish chemist Bergman, pursuing
-still further this subject of Chemical Affinities, and the
-expression of them by means of Tables, returned again to the
-old Newtonian term; and designated the disposition of a body
-to combine with one rather than another of two others as
-_Elective Attraction_. And as his work on _Elective
-Attractions_ had great circulation and great influence, this
-phrase has obtained a footing by the side of _Affinity_, and
-both one and the other are now in common use among chemists.
-
-4. I have said above that the term _Affinity_ is worthy of
-being retained as a technical term. If we use the word
-_attraction_ in this case, we identify or compare chemical
-with mechanical attraction; from which identification and
-comparison, as I have already remarked, no one has yet been
-able to extract the means of expressing any single
-scientific truth. If such an identification or comparison be
-not intended, the use of the same word in two different
-senses can only lead to confusion; and the proper course,
-recommended by all the best analogies of scientific history,
-is to adopt a peculiar term for that peculiar relation on
-which chemical composition depends. The word _Affinity_,
-even if it were not rigorously proper according to its
-common meaning, still, being simple, familiar, and well
-established in this very usage, is much to be preferred
-before any other.
-
-But further, there are some analogies drawn from the common
-meaning of this word, which appear to recommend it as
-suitable for the office which it has to discharge. For
-common mechanical attractions and {20} repulsions, the
-forces by which one body considered as a _whole_ acts upon
-another external to it, are, as we have said, to be
-distinguished from those more intimate ties by which the
-_parts_ of each body are held together. Now this difference
-is implied, if we compare the former relations, the
-attractions and repulsions, to alliances and wars between
-States, and the latter, the internal union of particles, to
-those bonds of affinity which connect the citizens of the
-same state with one another, and especially to the ties of
-Family. We have seen that Boerhaave compares the union of
-two elements of a compound to their marriage; 'we must
-allow,' says an eminent chemist of our own time[19\6], 'that
-there is some truth in this poetical comparison.' It
-contains this truth,--that the two become one to most
-intents and purposes, and that the Unit thus formed (the
-Family) is not a mere juxtaposition of the component parts.
-And thus the Idea of Affinity as the peculiar principle of
-chemical composition, is established among chemists, and
-designated by a familiar and appropriate name.
-
-[Note 19\6: Dumas, _Leçons de Phil. Chim._ p. 363.]
-
-5. _Analysis is possible._--We must, however, endeavour to
-obtain a further insight into this Idea, thus fixed and
-named. We must endeavour to extricate, if not from the Idea
-itself, from the processes by which it has obtained
-acceptation and currency among chemists, some principles
-which may define its application, some additional
-specialities in the relations which it implies. This we
-shall proceed to do.
-
-The Idea of Affinity, as already explained, implies a
-disposition to combine. But this combination is to be
-understood as admitting also of a possibility of separation.
-Synthesis implies Analysis as conceivable: or to recur to
-the image which we have already used, Divorce is possible
-when the Marriage has taken place.
-
-That there is this possibility, is a conviction implied in
-all the researches of chemists, ever since the true notion
-of composition began to predominate in their investigations.
-One of the first persons who clearly {21} expressed this
-conviction was Mayow, an English physician, who published
-his _Medico-Physical Tracts_ in 1674. The first of them _De
-Sale-Nitro et Spiritu Nitro-Aerio_, contains a clear
-enunciation of this principle. After showing how, in the
-combinations of opposite elements, as acid and alkali, their
-properties entirely disappear, and a new substance is formed
-not at all resembling either of the ingredients, he
-adds[20\6], 'Although these salts thus mixed appear to be
-destroyed it is still possible for them to be separated from
-each other, with their powers still entire.' He proceeds to
-exemplify this, and illustrates it by the same image which I
-have already alluded to: 'Salia acida a salibus
-volatilibus discedunt, ut cum sale fixo tartari, tanquam
-_sponso_ magis idoneo, _conjugium_ strictius ineunt.' This
-idea of a synthesis which left a complete analysis still
-possible, was opposed to a notion previously current, that
-when two heterogeneous bodies united together and formed a
-third body, the two constituents were entirely destroyed,
-and the result formed out of their ruins[21\6]. And this
-conception of Synthesis and Analysis, as processes which are
-possible successively and alternately, and each of which
-supposes the possibility of the other, has been the
-fundamental and regulative principle of the operations and
-speculations of analytical chemistry from the time of Mayow
-to the present day.
-
-[Note 20\6: Cap. xiv. p. 233.]
-
-[Note 21\6: Thomson's _Chemistry_, iii. 8.]
-
-6. _Affinity is Elective._--When the idea of chemical
-affinity, or disposition to unite, was brought into view by
-the experiments and reasonings of chemists, they found it
-necessary to consider this disposition as _elective_;--each
-element _chose_ one rather than another of the elements
-which were presented to it, and quitted its union with one
-to unite with another which it preferred. This has already
-appeared in the passage just quoted from Mayow. He adds in
-the same strain, 'I have no doubt that fixed salts choose
-one acid rather than another, in order that they may
-coalesce with it {22} in a more intimate union.'--'Nullus
-dubito salia fixa acidum unum præ aliis _eligere_, ut cum
-eodem arctiore unione coalescant.' The same thought is
-expressed and exemplified by other chemists: they notice
-innumerable cases in which, when an ingredient is combined
-with a liquid, if a new substance be immersed which has a
-greater affinity for the liquid, the liquid combines with
-the new substance by election, and the former **ingredient
-is _precipitated_. Thus Stahl says[22\6], 'In spirit of
-nitre dissolve silver; put in copper and the silver is
-thrown down; put in iron and the copper goes down; put in
-zinc, the iron precipitates; put in volatile alkali, the
-zinc is separated; put in fixed alkali, the volatile quits
-its hold.'--As may be seen in this example, we have in such
-cases, not only a preference, but a long gradation of
-preferences. The spirit of nitre will combine with silver,
-but it prefers copper; prefers iron more; zinc still more;
-volatile alkali yet more; fixed alkali the most.
-
-[Note 22\6: _Zymotechnia_, 1697, p. 117.]
-
-The same thing was proved to obtain with regard to each
-element; and when this was ascertained, it became the object
-of chemists to express these degrees of preference, by lists
-in which substances were arranged according to their
-disposition to unite with another substance. In this manner
-was formed Geoffroy's Table of Affinities (1718), which we
-have already mentioned. This Table was further improved by
-other writers, as Gellert (1751) and Limbourg (1761).
-Finally Bergman improved these Tables still further, taking
-into account not only the order of affinities of each
-element for others, but the _sum_ of the tendencies to unite
-of each two elements, which sum, he held, determined the
-resulting combination when several elements were in contact
-with each other.
-
-7. As we have stated in the History[23\6], when the doctrine
-of elective affinities had assumed this very definite and
-systematic form, it was assailed by Berthollet, who
-maintained, in his _Essai de Statique_ {23} _Chimique_,
-(1803,) that chemical affinities are _not_ elective:--that,
-when various elements are brought together, their
-combinations do not depend upon the kind of elements alone,
-but upon the quantity of each which is present, that which
-is most abundant always entering most largely into the
-resulting compounds. It may seem strange that it should be
-possible, at so late a period of the science, to throw doubt
-upon a doctrine which had presided over and directed its
-progress so long. Proust answered Berthollet, and again
-maintained that chemical affinity is elective. I have, in
-the History, given the judgment of Berzelius upon this
-controversy. 'Berthollet,' he says, 'defended himself with
-an acuteness which makes the reader hesitate in his
-judgment; but the great mass of facts finally decided the
-point in favour of Proust.' I may here add the opinion
-pronounced upon this subject by Dr. Turner[24\6]: 'Bergman
-erred in supposing the result of the chemical action to be
-in every case owing to elective affinity [for this power is
-modified in its effects by various circumstances]: but
-Berthollet ran into the opposite extreme in declaring that
-the effects formerly ascribed to that power are never
-produced by it. That chemical attraction is exerted between
-different bodies with different degrees of energy, is, I
-apprehend, indisputable.' And he then proceeds to give many
-instances of differences in affinity which cannot be
-accounted for by the operation of any modifying causes.
-Still more recently, M. Dumas has taken a review of this
-controversy; and, speaking with enthusiasm of the work of
-Berthollet, as one which had been of inestimable service to
-himself in his early study of chemistry, he appears at first
-disposed to award to him the victory in this dispute. But
-his final verdict leaves undamaged the general principle now
-under our consideration, that chemical affinity is elective.
-'For my own part,' he says[25\6], 'I willingly admit the
-notions of Berthollet when we have to do with acids or {24}
-with bases, of which the energy is nearly equal: but when
-bodies endued with very energetic affinities are in presence
-of other bodies of which the affinities are very feeble, I
-propose to adopt the following rule: In a solution,
-everything remaining dissolved, the strong affinities
-satisfy themselves, leaving the weak affinities to arrange
-matters with one another. The strong acids take the strong
-bases, and the weak acids can only unite with the weak
-bases. The known facts are perfectly in accordance with this
-practical rule.' It is obvious that this recognition of a
-distinction between strong and weak affinities, which
-operates to such an extent as to determine entirely the
-result, is a complete acknowledgement of the Elective nature
-of Affinity, as far as any person acquainted with chemical
-operations could contend for it. For it must be allowed by
-all, that solubility, and other collateral circumstances,
-influence the course of chemical combinations, since they
-determine whether or not there shall take place that contact
-of elements without which affinity cannot possibly operate.
-
-[Note 23\6: _Hist. Ind. Sc._ b. xiv. c. iii.]
-
-[Note 24\6: _Chemistry_, p. 199. 6th edition.]
-
-[Note 25\6: _Leçons de Philosophie Chimique_, p. 386.]
-
-8. _Affinity is Definite as to quantity._--In proportion as
-chemists obtained a clearer view of the products of the
-laboratory as results of the composition of elements, they
-saw more and more clearly that these results were definite;
-that one element not only preferred to combine with another
-of a certain kind, but also would combine with it to a
-certain extent and no further, thus giving to the result not
-an accidental and variable, but a fixed and constant
-character. Thus salts being considered as the result of the
-combination of two opposite principles, acid and alkali, and
-being termed _neutral_ when these principles exactly
-balanced each other, Rouelle (who was Royal Professor at
-Paris in 1742) admits of neutral salts with excess of acid,
-neutral salts with excess of base, and perfect neutral
-salts. Beaume maintained[26\6] against him that there were
-no salts except those perfectly neutral, the other classes
-being the results of mixture and imperfect {25} combination.
-But this question was not adequately treated till chemists
-made every experiment with the balance in their hands. When
-this was done, they soon discovered that, in each neutral
-salt, the proportional weights of the ingredients which
-composed it were always the same. This was ascertained by
-Wenzel, whose _Doctrine of the Affinities of Bodies_
-appeared in 1777. He not only ascertained that the
-proportions of elements in neutral chemical compounds are
-definite, but also that they are reciprocal; that is, (to
-express his results in a manner now employed by chemists),
-that if A, a certain weight of a certain acid, neutralize
-_m_, a certain weight of a certain base, and B, a certain
-weight of a certain other acid, neutralize _n_, a certain
-weight of a certain other base; the compound of A and _n_
-will also be neutral; as also that of B and _m_. The same
-views were again presented by Richter in 1792, in his
-_Principles of the Measure of Chemical Elements_. And along
-with these facts, that of the combination of elements in
-multiple proportions being also taken into account, the
-foundations of the Atomic Theory were laid; and that Theory
-was propounded in 1803 by Mr. Dalton. That theory, however,
-rests upon the Idea of Substance, as well as upon that Idea
-of Chemical Affinity which we are here considering; and the
-discussion of its evidence and truth must be for the present
-deferred.
-
-[Note 26\6: Dumas, _Phil. Chim._ p. 198.]
-
-9. The two principles just explained,--that Affinity is
-Definite as to the Kind, and as to the Quantity of the
-elements which it unites,--have here been stated as results
-of experimental investigation. That they could never have
-been clearly understood, and therefore never firmly
-established, without laborious and exact experiments, is
-certain; but yet we may venture to say that being once fully
-known, they may seem to thoughtful men to possess an
-evidence beyond that of mere experiment. For how, in fact,
-can we conceive combinations, otherwise than as definite in
-kind and quantity? If we were to suppose each element
-ready to combine with any other indifferently, and
-indifferently in any quantity, we should have a world in
-{26} which all would be confusion and indefiniteness. There
-would be no fixed kinds of bodies. Salts, and stones, and
-ores, would approach to and graduate into each other by
-insensible degrees. Instead of this, we know that the world
-consists of bodies distinguishable from each other by
-definite differences, capable of being classified and named,
-and of having general propositions asserted concerning them.
-And as we cannot conceive a world in which this should not
-be the case, it would appear that we cannot conceive a state
-of things in which the laws of the combination of elements
-should not be of that definite and measured kind which we
-have above asserted.
-
-This will, perhaps, appear more clearly by stating our
-fundamental convictions respecting chemical composition in
-another form, which I shall, therefore, proceed to do.
-
-10. _Chemical Composition determines Physical
-Properties._--However obscure and incomplete may be our
-conception of the internal powers by which the ultimate
-particles of bodies are held together, it involves, at
-least, this conviction:--that these powers are what
-determine bodies to be bodies, and therefore contain the
-reason of all the properties which, as bodies, they possess.
-The forces by which the particles of a body are held
-together, also cause it to be hard or soft, heavy or light,
-opake or transparent, black or red; for if these forces are
-not the cause of these peculiarities, what can be the cause?
-By the very supposition which we make respecting these
-forces, they include all the relations by which the parts
-are combined into a whole, and therefore they, and they
-only, must determine all the attributes of the whole. The
-foundation of all our speculations respecting the intimate
-constitution of bodies must be this principle, that their
-composition determines their properties.
-
-Accordingly we find our chemists reasoning from this
-principle with great confidence, even in doubtful cases.
-Thus Davy, in his researches concerning the diamond, says:
-'That some chemical difference must exist between the
-hardest and most beautiful of the {27} gems and charcoal,
-between a non-conductor and a conductor of electricity, it
-is scarcely possible to doubt: and it seems reasonable to
-expect that a very refined or perfect chemistry will confirm
-_the analogies of nature_; and show that bodies cannot be
-the same in their composition or chemical nature, and yet
-totally different in their chemical properties.' It is
-obvious that the principle here assumed is so far from being
-a mere result of experience, that it is here appealed to to
-prove that all previous results of experience on this
-subject must be incomplete and inaccurate; and that there
-must be some chemical difference between charcoal and
-diamond, though none had hitherto been detected.
-
-11. In what manner, according to what rule, the chemical
-composition shall determine the kind of the substance, we
-cannot reasonably expect to determine by mere conjecture or
-assumption, without a studious examination of natural bodies
-and artificial compounds. Yet even in the most recent times,
-and among men of science, we find that an assumption of the
-most arbitrary character has in one case been mixed up with
-this indisputable principle, that the elementary composition
-determines the kind of the substance. In the classification
-of minerals, one school of mineralogists have rightly taken
-it as their fundamental principle that the chemical
-composition shall decide the position of the mineral in the
-system. But they have appended to this principle,
-arbitrarily and unjustifiably, the maxim that the element
-which is _largest in quantity_ shall fix the class of the
-substance. To make such an assumption is to renounce, at
-once, all hope of framing a system which shall be governed
-by the resemblances of the things classified; for how can we
-possibly know beforehand that fifty-five per cent, of iron
-shall give a substance its predominant properties, and that
-forty-five per cent, shall not? Accordingly, the systems of
-mineralogical arrangement which have been attempted in this
-way, (those of Haüy, Phillips, and others,) have been found
-inconsistent with themselves, ambiguous, and incapable of
-leading to any general truths. {28}
-
-12. _Chemical Composition and Crystalline Form
-correspond._--Thus the physical properties of bodies depend
-upon their chemical composition, but in a manner which a
-general examination of bodies with reference to their
-properties and their composition can alone determine. We
-may, however, venture to assert further, that the more
-definite the properties are, the more distinct may we expect
-to find this dependence. Now the most definite of the
-properties of bodies are those constant properties which
-involve relations of space; that is, their figure. We speak
-not, however, of that external figure, derived from external
-circumstances, which, so far from being constant and
-definite, is altogether casual and arbitrary; but of that
-figure which arises from their internal texture, and which
-shows itself not only in the regular forms which they
-spontaneously assume, but in the disposition of the parts to
-separate in definite directions, and no others. In short,
-the most definite of the properties of perfect chemical
-compounds is their _crystalline structure_; and therefore it
-is evident that the crystalline structure of each body, and
-the forms which it affects, must be in a most intimate
-dependence upon its chemical composition.
-
-Here again we are led to the brink of another theory;--that
-of crystalline structure, which has excited great interest
-among philosophers ever since the time of Haüy. But this
-theory involves, besides that idea of chemical composition
-with which we are here concerned, other conceptions, which
-enter into the relations of figure. These conceptions,
-governed principally by the Idea of Symmetry, must be
-unfolded and examined before we can venture to discuss any
-theory of crystallization: and we shall proceed to do this
-as soon as we have first duly considered the Idea of
-Substance and its consequences.
-
-
-
-{{29}}
-CHAPTER III.
-
-OF THE IDEA OF SUBSTANCE.
-
-
-1. _Axiom of the Indestructibility of Substance._--WE now
-come to an Idea of which the history is very different from
-those of which we have lately been speaking. Instead of
-being gradually and recently brought into a clear light, as
-has been the case with the Ideas of Polarity and Affinity,
-the Idea of Substance has been entertained in a distinct
-form from the first periods of European speculation. That
-this is so, is proved by our finding a principle depending
-upon this Idea current as an axiom among the early
-philosophers of Greece:--namely, that _nothing can be
-produced out of nothing_. Such an axiom, more fully stated,
-amounts to this: that the substance of which a body consists
-is incapable of being diminished (and consequently incapable
-of being augmented) in quantity, whatever apparent changes
-it may undergo. Its forms, its distribution, its qualities,
-may vary, but the substance itself is identically the same
-under all these variations.
-
-The axiom just spoken of was the great principle of the
-physical philosophy of the Epicurean school, as it must be
-of every merely material philosophy. The reader of Lucretius
-will recollect the emphasis with which it is repeatedly
-asserted in his poem:
- E nilo nil gigni, in nilum nil posse reverti;
- Nought comes of nought, nor ought returns to nought.
-
-Those who engaged in these early attempts at physical
-speculation were naturally much pleased with the clearness
-which was given to their notions of change, composition, and
-decomposition, by keeping steadily hold of the Idea of
-Substance, as marked by this {30} fundamental axiom. Nor has
-its authority ever ceased to be acknowledged. A philosopher
-was asked[27\6], What is the weight of smoke? He answered,
-'Subtract the weight of the ashes from the weight of the
-wood which is burnt, and you have the weight of the smoke.'
-This reply would be assented to by all; and it assumes as
-incontestable that even under the action of fire, the
-material, the substance, does not perish, but only changes
-its form.
-
-[Note 27\6: Kant, _Kritik der R. V._ p. 167.]
-
-This principle of the indestructibility of substance might
-easily be traced in many reasonings and researches, ancient
-and modern. For instance, when the chemist works with the
-_retort_, he places the body on which he operates in one
-part of an inclosed cavity, which, by its bendings and
-communications, separates at the same time that it confines,
-the products which result from the action of fire: and he
-assumes that this process is an analysis of the body into
-its ingredients, not a creation of anything which did not
-exist before, or a destruction of anything which previously
-existed. And he assumes further, that the total quantity of
-the substance thus analysed is the sum of the quantities of
-its ingredients. This principle is the very basis of
-chemical speculation, as we shall hereafter explain more fully.
-
-2. _The Idea of Substance._--The axiom above spoken of
-depends upon the Idea of Substance, which is involved in all
-our views of external objects. We unavoidably assume that
-the qualities and properties which we observe are properties
-of _things_;--that the adjective implies a
-substantive;--that there is, besides the external characters
-of things, something _of which_ they are the characters. An
-apple which is red, and round, and hard, is not merely
-redness, and roundness, and hardness: these circumstances
-may all alter while the apple remains the same apple. Behind
-or under the appearances which we see, we conceive something
-of which we think; or, to use the metaphor which obtained
-currency among the ancient philosophers, the {31} attributes
-and qualities which we observe are supported by and inherent
-in something: and this something is hence called a
-_substratum_ or _substance_,--that which stands _beneath_
-the apparent qualities and supports them.
-
-That we have such an _Idea_, using the term 'Idea' in the
-sense in which I have employed it throughout these
-disquisitions, is evident from what has been already said.
-The Axiom of the Indestructibility of Substance proves the
-existence of the Idea of Substance, just as the Axioms of
-Geometry and Arithmetic prove the existence of the Ideas of
-Space and Number. In the case of Substance, as of space or
-number, the ideas cannot be said to be borrowed from
-experience, for the axioms have an authority of a far more
-comprehensive and demonstrative character than any which
-experience can bestow. The axiom that nothing can be
-produced from nothing and nothing destroyed, is so far from
-being a result of experience, that it is apparently
-contradicted by the most obvious observation. It has, at
-first, the air of a paradox; and by those who refer to it,
-it is familiarly employed to show how fallacious common
-observation is. The assertion is usually made in this
-form;--that nothing is created and nothing annihilated,
-_notwithstanding_ that the common course of our experience
-appears to show the contrary. The principle is not an
-empirical, but a necessary and universal truth;--is
-collected, not from the evidence of our senses, but from the
-operation of our ideas. And thus the universal and
-undisputed authority of the axiom proves the existence of
-the Idea of Substance.
-
-3. _Locke's Denial of the Idea of Substance._--I shall not
-attempt to review the various opinions which have been
-promulgated respecting this Idea: but it may be worth our
-while to notice briefly the part which it played in the
-great controversy concerning the origin of our ideas which
-Locke's _Essay_ occasioned. Locke's object was to disprove
-the existence of all ideas not derived from Sensation or
-Reflection: and since the idea of substance as distinct from
-external qualities, is {32} manifestly not derived directly
-from sensation, nor by any very obvious or distinct process
-from reflection, Locke was disposed to exclude the idea as
-much as possible. Accordingly, in his argumentation against
-Innate Ideas[28\6], he says plainly, 'the idea of substance,
-which we neither have nor can have by sensation or
-reflection.' And the inference which he draws is, 'that we
-have no such clear idea at all.' What then, it may be asked,
-do we mean by the word _substance_? This also he answers,
-though somewhat strangely, 'We signify nothing by the word
-_substance_, but only an uncertain supposition of we know
-not what, _i. e._ of something whereof we have no particular
-distinct positive idea, which we take to be the substratum,
-or support, of those ideas we know.' That while he indulged
-in this tautological assertion of our ignorance and
-uncertainty, he should still have been compelled to
-acknowledge that the word substance had some meaning, and
-should have been driven to explain it by the identical
-metaphors of 'substratum' and 'support,' is a curious proof
-how impossible it is entirely to reject this idea.
-
-[Note 28\6: _Essay_, b. i. c. iv. s. 18.]
-
-But as we have already seen, the supposition of the
-existence of substance is so far from being uncertain, that
-it carries with it irresistible conviction, and substance is
-necessarily conceived as something which cannot be produced
-or destroyed. It may be easily supposed, therefore, that
-when the controversy between Locke and his assailants came
-to this point, he would be in some difficulty. And, indeed,
-though with his accustomed skill in controversy, he managed
-to retain a triumphant tone, he was driven from his main
-points. Thus he repels the charge that he took the being of
-substance to be doubtful[29\6]. He says, 'Having everywhere
-affirmed and built upon it that man is a substance, I cannot
-be supposed to question or doubt of the being of substance,
-till I can question or doubt of my own being.' He attempts
-to make a stand by saying that _being_ of things does not
-depend upon our {33} _ideas_; but if he had been asked how,
-without having an _idea_ of substance, he _knew_ substance
-to _be_, it is difficult to conceive what answer he could
-have made. Again, he had said that our idea of substance
-arises from our 'accustoming ourselves to suppose' a
-substratum of qualities. Upon this his adversary, Bishop
-Stillingfleet, very properly asks, Is this custom grounded
-upon true reason or no? To which Locke replies, that it is
-grounded upon this: That we cannot conceive how simple ideas
-of sensible qualities should subsist alone; and therefore we
-suppose them to exist in, and to be supported by some common
-subject, which support we denote by the name substance. Thus
-he allows, not only that we necessarily assume the reality
-of substance, but that we cannot conceive qualities without
-substance; which are concessions so ample as almost to
-include all that any advocate for the Idea of Substance need
-desire.
-
-[Note 29\6: _Essay_, b. ii. c. ii. and _First Letter to the
-Bishop of Worcester_.]
-
-Perhaps Locke, and the adherents of Locke, in denying that
-we have an idea of substance in general, were latently
-influenced by finding that they could not, by any effort of
-mind, call up any _image_ which could be considered as an
-image of substance in general. That in this sense we have no
-idea of substance, is plain enough; but in the same sense we
-have no idea of space in general, or of time, or number, or
-cause, or resemblance. Yet we certainly have such a power of
-representing to our minds space, time, number, cause,
-resemblance, as to arrive at numerous truths by means of
-such representations. These general representations I have
-all along called Ideas, nor can I discover any more
-appropriate word; and in this sense, we have also, as has
-now been shown, an Idea of Substance.
-
-4. _Is all Material Substance heavy?_--The principle that
-the quantity of the substance of any body remains unchanged
-by our operations upon it, is, as we have said, of universal
-validity. But then the question occurs, how are we to
-ascertain the quantity of substance, and thus, to apply the
-principle in particular cases. In the case above mentioned,
-where {34} smoke was to be weighed, it was manifestly
-assumed that the quantity of the substance might be known by
-its weight; and that the total quantity being unchanged, the
-total weight also would remain the same. Now on what grounds
-do we make this assumption? Is all material substance heavy?
-and if we can assert this to be so, on what grounds does the
-truth of the assertion rest? These are not idle questions of
-barren curiosity; for in the history of that science
-(Chemistry) to which the Idea of Substance is principally
-applicable, nothing less than the fate of a comprehensive
-and long established theory (the Phlogiston theory) depended
-upon the decision of this question. When it was urged that
-the reduction of a metal from a calcined to a metallic form
-could not consist in the _addition_ of phlogiston, because
-the metal was lighter than the calx had been; it was replied
-by some, that this was not conclusive, for that phlogiston
-was a principle of levity, diminishing the weight of the
-body to which it was added. This reply was, however,
-rejected by all the sounder philosophers, and the force of
-the argument finally acknowledged. But why was this
-suggestion of a substance having no weight, or having
-absolute levity, repudiated by the most reflective
-reasoners? It is assumed, it appears, that all matter must
-be heavy; what is the ground of this assumption?
-
-The ground of such an assumption appears to be the
-following. Our idea of substance includes in it this:--that
-substance is a quantity capable of addition; and thus
-capable of making up, by composition, a sum equal to all its
-parts. But substance, and the quantity of substance, can be
-known to us only by its attributes and qualities. And the
-qualities which are capable constantly and indefinitely of
-increase and diminution by increase and diminution of the
-parts, must be conceived inseparable from the substance. For
-the qualities, if removable from the substance at all, must
-be removable by some operation performed upon the substance;
-and by the idea of substance, all such operations are only
-equivalent to separation, junction, and union of parts.
-Hence those characters {35} which thus universally increase
-and diminish by addition and subtraction of the things
-themselves, belong to the substance of the things. They are
-measures of its quantity, and are not merely its separable
-qualities.
-
-The weight of bodies is such a character. However we
-compound or divide bodies, we compound and divide their
-weight in the same manner. We may dismember a body into the
-minutest parts; but the sum of the weights of the parts is
-always equal to the whole weight of the body. The weight of
-a body can be in no way increased or diminished, except by
-adding something to it or taking something from it. If we
-bake a brick, we do not conceive that the change of colour
-or of hardness, implies that anything has been created or
-destroyed. It may easily be that the parts have only assumed
-a new arrangement; but if the brick have lost weight, we
-suppose that something (moisture for instance) has been
-removed elsewhere.
-
-Thus weight is apprehended as essential to matter. In
-considering the dismemberment or analysis of bodies, we
-assume that there must be some criterion of the quantity of
-substance; and this criterion can possess no other
-properties than their weight possesses. If we assume an
-element which has no weight, or the weight of which is
-negative, as some of the defenders of phlogiston attempted
-to do, we put an end to all speculation on such subjects.
-For if weight is not the criterion of the quantity of one
-element, phlogiston for instance, why is weight the
-criterion of the quantity of any other element? We may, by
-the same right, assume any other real or imaginary element
-to have levity instead of gravity; or to have a peculiar
-intensity of gravity which makes its weight no index of its
-quantity. In short, if we do this, we deprive of all
-possibility of application our notions of element, analysis,
-and composition; and violate the postulates on which the
-questions are propounded which we thus attempt to decide.
-
-We must, then, take a constant and quantitative property of
-matter, such as weight is, to be an index {36} of the
-quantity of matter or of substance to which it belongs. I do
-not here speak of the question which has sometimes been
-proposed, whether the _weight_ or the _inertia_ of bodies be
-the more proper measure of the quantity of matter. For the
-measure of inertia is regulated by the same assumption as
-that of substance:--that the quantity of the whole must be
-equal to the quantity of all the parts: and inertia is
-measured by weight, for the same reason that substance is so.
-
-Having thus established the certainty, and ascertained the
-interpretation of the fundamental principle which the Idea
-of Substance involves, we are prepared to consider its
-application in the science upon which it has a peculiar
-bearing.
-
-
-
-{{37}}
-NOTE TO CHAPTER III.
-
-
-[3rd Ed.]--[THE doctrine here propounded, that All Matter is
-Heavy, has been opposed by Sir William Hamilton of
-Edinburgh. (_Works of Reid_, note, p. 853.) This writer is a
-man of unquestionable acuteness and of very extensive
-reading; but his acuteness shows itself in barren
-ontological distinctions, which appear to me to be of the
-same character as the speculations of the eminent Schoolmen
-of the most sterile periods of the dark ages. That he should
-have no conception of progressive or inductive science is
-not wonderful, when we recollect that he holds, as an
-important part of his philosophy, that the study of
-mathematics perverts and obscures the mind. But it may be of
-some interest to consider his objections to the doctrine
-here maintained.
-
-He says, 1st, that our reasoning assumes that we must
-necessarily have it in our power to ascertain the Quantity
-of Matter; whereas this may be a problem out of the reach of
-human determination.
-
-To this I reply, that my reasoning _does_ assume that there
-is a science, or sciences, which make assertions concerning
-the Quantity of Matter: Mechanics and Chemistry are such
-sciences. My assertion is, that to make such sciences
-possible, Quantity of Matter must be proportional to Weight.
-If my opponent deny that Mechanics and Chemistry can exist
-as sciences, he may invalidate my proof; but not otherwise.
-
-2. He says that there are two conceivable ways of estimating
-the Quantity of Matter: by the Space occupied, and by the
-Weight or Inertia; and that I assume the second measure
-gratuitously.
-
-To which I reply, that the most elementary steps in
-Mechanics and in Chemistry contradict the notion that {38}
-the Quantity of Matter is proportionate to the Space. They
-proceed necessarily on a distinction between Space and
-Matter:--between mere Extension and material Substance.
-
-3. He allows that we cannot make the Extension of a body the
-measure of the Quantity of Matter, because, he says, we do
-not know if 'the compressing force' is such as to produce
-'the closest compression.' That is, he assumes a compressing
-force, assumes a closest compression, assumes a peculiar
-(and very improbable) atomic hypothesis; and all this to
-supply a reason why we are not to believe the first simple
-principle of Mechanics and Chemistry.
-
-4. He speaks of 'a series of apparent fluids (as Light or
-its vehicle, the Calorific, the Electro-galvanic, and
-Magnetic agents) which we can neither denude of their
-character of substance, nor clothe with the attribute of
-weight.'
-
-To which my reply is, that precisely because I cannot
-'clothe' these agents with the attribute of Weight, I _do_
-'denude them of the character of Substance.' They are not
-substances, but agencies. These Imponderable Agents are not
-properly called 'Imponderable Fluids.' This I conceive that
-I have proved; and the proof is not shaken by denying the
-conclusion without showing any defect in the reasoning.
-
-5. Finally, my critic speaks about 'a logical canon,' and
-about 'a criterion of truth, subjectively necessary and
-objectively certain;' which matters I shall not waste the
-reader's time by discussing.]
-
-
-
-{{39}}
-CHAPTER IV.
-
-APPLICATION OF THE IDEA OF SUBSTANCE IN CHEMISTRY.
-
-
-1. _A Body is Equal to the Sum of its Elements._--FROM the
-earliest periods of chemistry the balance has been
-familiarly used to determine the proportions of the
-ingredients and of the compound; and soon after the middle
-of the last century, this practice was so studiously
-followed, that Wenzel and Richter were thereby led to the
-doctrine of Definite Proportions. But yet the full value and
-significance of the balance, as an indispensable instrument
-in chemical researches, was not understood till the gaseous,
-as well as solid and fluid ingredients were taken into the
-account. When this was done, it was found that the
-principle, that the whole is equal to the sum of its parts,
-of which, as we have seen, the necessary truth, in such
-cases, flows from the idea of substance, could be applied in
-the most rigorous manner. And conversely, it was found that
-by the use of the balance, the chemist could decide, in
-doubtful cases, which was a whole, and which were parts.
-
-For chemistry considers all the changes which belong to her
-province as compositions and decompositions of elements; but
-still the question may occur, whether an observed change be
-the one or the other. How can we distinguish whether the
-process which we contemplate be composition or
-decomposition?--whether the new body be formed by addition
-of a new, or subtraction of an old element? Again; in the
-case of decomposition, we may inquire, What are the ultimate
-limits of our analysis? If we decompound bodies into others
-more and more simple, how far can we carry this succession
-{40} of processes? How far can we proceed in the road of
-analysis? And in our actual course, what evidence have we
-that our progress, as far as it has gone, has carried us
-from the more complex to the more simple?
-
-To this we reply, that the criterion which enables us to
-distinguish, decidedly and finally, whether our process have
-been a mere analysis of the proposed body into its
-ingredients, or a synthesis of some of them with some new
-element, is the principle stated above, that the weight of
-the whole is equal to the weight of all the parts. And no
-process of chemical analysis or synthesis can be considered
-complete till it has been verified by this fact;--by finding
-that the weight of the compound is the weight of its
-supposed ingredients; or, that if there be an element which
-we think we have detached from the whole, its loss is
-betrayed by a corresponding diminution of weight.
-
-I have already noticed what an important part this principle
-has played in the great chemical controversy which ended in
-the establishment of the oxygen theory. The calcination of a
-metal was decided to be the union of oxygen with the metal,
-and not the separation of phlogiston from it, because it was
-found that in the process of calcination, the weight of the
-metal increased, and increased exactly as much as the weight
-of ambient air diminished. When oxygen and hydrogen were
-exploded together, and a small quantity of water was
-produced, it was held that this was really a synthesis of
-water, because, when very great care was taken with the
-process, the weight of the water which resulted was equal to
-the weight of the gases which disappeared.
-
-2. _Lavoisier._--It was when gases came to be considered as
-entering largely into the composition of liquid and solid
-bodies, that extreme accuracy in weighing was seen to be so
-necessary to the true understanding of chemical processes.
-It was in this manner discovered by Lavoisier and his
-contemporaries that oxygen constitutes a large ingredient of
-calcined metals, of acids, and of water. A countryman of
-Lavoisier[30\6] {41} has not only given most just praise to
-that great philosopher for having constantly tested all his
-processes by a careful and skilful use of the balance, but
-has also claimed for him the merit of having introduced the
-maxim, that in chemical operations nothing is created and
-nothing lost. But I think it is impossible to deny that this
-maxim is assumed in all the attempts at analysis made by his
-contemporaries, as well as by him. This maxim is indeed
-included in any clear notion of analysis: it could not be
-the result of the researches of any one chemist, but was the
-governing principle of the reasonings of all. Lavoisier,
-however, employed this principle with peculiar assiduity and
-skill. In applying it, he does not confine himself to mere
-additions and subtractions of the quantities of ingredients;
-but often obtains his results by more complex processes. In
-one of his investigations he says, 'I may consider the
-ingredients which are brought together, and the result which
-is obtained as an algebraical equation; and if I
-successively suppose each of the quantities of this equation
-to be unknown, I can obtain its value from the rest: and
-thus I can rectify the experiment by the calculation, and
-the calculation by the experiment. I have often taken
-advantage of this method, in order to correct the first
-results of my experiments, and to direct me in repeating
-them with proper precautions.'
-
-[Note 30\6: M. Dumas, _Leçons de la Philosophie Chimique_.
-1837. p. 157.]
-
-The maxim, that the whole is equal to the sum of all its
-parts, is thus capable of most important and varied
-employment in chemistry. But it may be applied in another
-form to the exclusion of a class of speculations which are
-often put forwards.
-
-3. _Maxim respecting Imponderable Elements._--Several of the
-phenomena which belong to bodies, as heat, light,
-electricity, magnetism, have been explained hypothetically
-by assuming the existence of certain fluids; but these
-fluids have never been shown to have weight. Hence such
-hypothetical fluids have been termed _imponderable
-elements_. It is however plain, that so long as these fluids
-appear to be without weight, they are not _elements_ of
-bodies in the same {42} sense as those elements of which we
-have hitherto been speaking. Indeed we may with good reason
-doubt whether those phenomena depend upon transferable
-fluids at all. We have seen strong reason to believe that
-light is not matter, but only motion; and the same thing
-appears to be probable with regard to heat. Nor is it at all
-inconceivable that a similar hypothesis respecting
-electricity and magnetism should hereafter be found tenable.
-Now if heat, light, and those other agents, be not matter,
-they are not _elements_ in such a sense as to be included in
-the principle referred to above, That the body is equal to
-the sum of its elements. Consequently the maxim just stated,
-that in chemical operations nothing is created, nothing
-annihilated, does not apply to Light and Heat. They are not
-_things_. And whether heat can be produced where there was
-no heat before, and light struck out from darkness, the
-ideas of which we are at present treating do not enable us
-to say. In reasoning respecting chemical synthesis and
-analysis therefore, we shall only make confusion by
-attempting to include in our conception the Light and Heat
-which are produced and destroyed. Such phenomena may be very
-proper subjects of study, as indeed they undoubtedly are;
-but they cannot be studied to advantage by considering them
-as sharing the nature of composition and decomposition.
-
-Again: in all attempts to explain the processes of nature,
-the proper course is, first to measure the facts with
-precision, and then to endeavour to understand their cause.
-Now the facts of chemical composition and decomposition, the
-weights of the ingredients and of the compounds, are facts
-measurable with the utmost precision and certainty. But it
-is far otherwise with the light and heat which accompany
-chemical processes. When combustion, deflagration,
-explosion, takes place, how can we measure the light or the
-heat? Even in cases of more tranquil action, though we can
-apply the thermometer, what does the thermometer tell us
-respecting the _quantity_ of the heat? Since then we have no
-measure which is of any value as {43} regards such
-circumstances in chemical changes, if we attempt to account
-for these phenomena _on chemical principles_, we introduce,
-into investigations in themselves perfectly precise and
-mathematically rigorous, another class of reasonings, vague
-and insecure, of which the only possible effect is to
-vitiate the whole reasoning, and to make our conclusions
-inevitably erroneous.
-
-We are led then to this maxim: that _imponderable fluids
-are_ not _to be admitted as chemical elements of bodies_[31\6].
-
-[Note 31\6: See the answer to Sir William Hamilton's
-objections, at the end of the last chapter.
-
-Since we are thus warned by a sound view of the nature of
-science, from considering chemical affinity as having any
-hold upon imponderable elements, we are manifestly still
-more decisively prohibited from supposing mechanical impulse
-or pressure to have any effect upon such elements. To make
-this supposition, is to connect the most subtle and
-incorporeal objects which we know in nature by the most
-gross material ties. This remark seems to be applicable to
-M. Poisson's hypothesis that the electric fluid is retained
-at the surface of bodies by the pressure of the
-atmosphere.]
-
-4. It appears, I think, that our best and most philosophical
-chemists have proceeded upon this principle in their
-investigations. In reasoning concerning the constitution of
-bodies and the interpretation of chemical changes, the
-attempts to include in these interpretations the heat or
-cold produced, by the addition or subtraction of a certain
-hypothetical 'caloric,' have become more and more rare among
-men of science. Such statements, and the explanations often
-put forwards of the light and heat which appear under
-various circumstances in the form of fire, must be
-considered as unessential parts of any sound theory.
-Accordingly we find Mr. Faraday gradually relinquishing such
-views. In January, 1834, he speaks generally of an
-hypothesis of this kind[32\6]: 'I cannot refrain from
-recalling here the beautiful idea put forth, I believe by
-Berzelius, in his development of his views of the
-electro-chemical theory of affinity, that the heat and light
-evolved during cases of powerful combination {44} are the
-consequence of the electric discharge which is at that
-moment taking place.' But in April of the same year[33\6],
-he observes, that in the combination of oxygen and hydrogen
-to produce water, electric powers to a most enormous amount
-are for the time active, but that the flame which is
-produced gives but feeble traces of such powers. 'Such
-phenomena,' therefore, he adds, 'may not, cannot, be taken
-as evidences of the nature of the action; but are merely
-incidental results, incomparably small in relation to the
-forces concerned, and supplying no information of the way in
-which the particles are active on each other, or in which
-their forces are finally arranged.'
-
-[Note 32\6: _Researches_, 870.]
-
-[Note 33\6: _Researches_, 960.]
-
-In pursuance of this maxim, we must consider as an
-unessential part of the oxygen theory that portion of it,
-much insisted upon by its author at the time, in which when
-sulphur, for instance, combined with oxygen to produce
-sulphuric acid, the combustion was accounted for by means of
-the _caloric_ which was supposed to be _liberated_ from its
-combination with oxygen.
-
-5. _Controversy of the Composition of Water._--There is
-another controversy of our times to which we may with great
-propriety apply the maxim now before us. After the glory of
-having first given a true view of the composition of water
-had long rested tranquilly upon the names of Cavendish and
-Lavoisier, a claim was made in favour of James Watt as the
-real author of this discovery by his son, (Mr J. Watt,) and
-his eulogist, (M. Arago[34\6]). It is not to our purpose
-here to discuss the various questions which have arisen on
-this subject respecting priority of publication, and
-respecting the translation of opinions published at one time
-into the language of another period. But if we look at
-Watt's own statement of his views, given soon after those of
-Cavendish had been published, we shall perceive that it is
-marked by a violation of this maxim: we shall find that he
-does admit imponderable fluids {45} as chemical elements;
-and thus shows a vagueness and confusion in his idea of
-chemical composition. With such imperfection in his views,
-it is not surprising that Watt, not only did not anticipate,
-but did not apprehend quite precisely the discovery of
-Cavendish and Lavoisier. Watt's statement of his views is as
-follows[35\6]:--'Are we not authorized to conclude that
-water is composed of dephlogisticated air and phlogiston
-deprived of part of their latent or elementary heat; that
-dephlogisticated or pure air is composed of water deprived
-of its phlogiston and united to elementary heat and light;
-and that the latter are contained in it in a latent state,
-so as not to be sensible to the thermometer or to the eye;
-and if light be only a modification of heat, or a
-circumstance attending it, or a component part of the
-inflammable air, then pure or dephlogisticated air is
-composed of water deprived of its phlogiston and united to
-elementary heat?'
-
-[Note 34\6: Éloge de James Watt, _Annuaire du Bur. des
-Long._ 1839.]
-
-[Note 35\6: _Phil. Trans._ 1784, p. 332.]
-
-When we compare this doubtful and hypothetical statement,
-involving so much that is extraneous and heterogeneous, with
-the conclusion of Cavendish, in which there is nothing
-hypothetical or superfluous, we may confidently assent to
-the decision which has been pronounced by one[36\6] of our
-own time in favour of Cavendish. And we may with pleasure
-recognize, in this enlightened umpire, a due appreciation of
-the value of the maxim on which we are now insisting.
-'Cavendish,' says Mr. Vernon Harcourt, 'pared off {46} from
-the hypotheses their theories of combustion, and _affinities
-of imponderable for ponderable matter_, as complicating
-chemical with physical considerations.'
-
-[Note 36\6: The Rev. W. Vernon Harcourt, Address to the
-British Association, 1839.--Since the first edition of this
-work was published, and also since the second edition of the
-_History of the Inductive Sciences_, Mr. Watt's
-correspondence bearing upon the question of the Composition
-of Water has been published by Mr. Muirhead. I do not find,
-in this publication, any reason for withdrawing what I have
-stated in the text above: but with reference to the
-statement in the _History_, it appears that Mr. Cavendish's
-claim to the discovery was not uncontested in his own time.
-Mr. Watt had looked at the composition of water, as a
-problem to be solved, perhaps more distinctly than Mr.
-Cavendish had done; and he conceived himself wronged by Mr.
-Cavendish's putting forwards his experiment as the first
-solution of this problem.]
-
-6. _Relation of Heat to Chemistry._--But while we thus
-condemn the attempts to explain the thermotical phenomena of
-chemical processes by means of chemical considerations, it
-may be asked if we are altogether to renounce the hope of
-understanding such phenomena? It is plain, it may be said,
-that heat generated in chemical changes is always a very
-important circumstance, and can sometimes be measured, and
-perhaps reduced to laws; are we prohibited from speculating
-concerning the causes of such circumstances and such laws?
-And to this we reply, that we may properly attempt to
-connect chemical with thermotical processes, _so far as_ we
-have obtained a clear and probable view of the nature of the
-thermotical processes. When our theory of Thermotics is
-tolerably complete and certain, we may with propriety
-undertake to connect it with our theory of Chemistry. But at
-present we are not far enough advanced in our knowledge of
-heat to make this attempt with any hope of success. We can
-hardly expect to understand the part which heat plays in the
-union of two bodies, when we cannot as yet comprehend in
-what manner it produces the liquefaction or vaporization of
-one body. We cannot look to account for Gay Lussac and
-Dalton's Law, that all gases expand equally by heat, till we
-learn how heat causes a gas to expand. We cannot hope to see
-the grounds of Dulong and Petit's Law, that the specific
-heat of all atoms is the same, till we know much more, not
-only about atoms, but about specific heat. We have as yet no
-thermotical theory which even professes to account for all
-the prominent facts of the subject[37\6]: and the theories
-which have been proposed are of the most diverse kind.
-Laplace assumes particles of bodies surrounded by
-atmospheres of caloric[38\6]; Cauchy makes heat consist in
-longitudinal vibrations of the ether of which transverse
-vibrations {47} produce light: in Ampère's theory[39\6],
-heat consists in the vibrations of the particles of bodies.
-And so long as we have nothing more certain in our
-conceptions of heat than the alternative of these and other
-precarious hypotheses, how can we expect to arrive at any
-real knowledge, by connecting the results of such hypotheses
-with the speculations of Chemistry, of which science the
-theory is at least equally obscure?
-
-[Note 37\6: _Hist. Ind. Sci._ b. x. c. 4.]
-
-[Note 38\6: _Ib._]
-
-[Note 39\6: _Hist. Ind. Sci._ b. x. c. 4.]
-
-The largest attempts at chemical theory have been made in
-the form of the Atomic Theory, to which I have just had
-occasion to allude. I must, therefore, before quitting the
-subject, say a few words respecting this theory.
-
-
-
-{{48}}
-CHAPTER V.
-
-THE ATOMIC THEORY.
-
-
-1. _The Atomic Theory considered on Chemical Grounds._--WE
-have already seen that the combinations which result from
-chemical affinity are definite, a certain quantity of one
-ingredient uniting, not with an uncertain, but with a
-certain quantity of another ingredient. But it was found, in
-addition to this principle, that one ingredient would often
-unite with another in different proportions, and that, in
-such cases, these proportions are multiples one of another.
-In the three salts formed by potassa with oxalic acid, the
-quantities of acid which combine with the same quantity of
-alkali are exactly in the proportion of the numbers 1, 2, 4.
-And the same rule of the existence of multiple proportions
-is found to obtain in other cases.
-
-It is obvious that such results will be accounted for, if we
-suppose that the base and the acid consist each of numerous
-definite equal particles, and that the formation of the
-salts above mentioned consists in the combination of one
-particle of the base with one particle of acid, with two
-particles of acid, and with four particles of acid,
-respectively. But further; as we have already stated,
-chemical affinity is not only definite, but reciprocal. The
-proportions of potassa and soda which form neutral salts
-being 590 and 391 in one case, they are so in all cases.
-These numbers represent _proportions_ of weight in which the
-two bases, potassa and soda, enter into analogous
-combinations; 590 of potassa is _equivalent_ to 391 of soda.
-These facts with regard to combination are still expressed
-by the above supposition of equal particles, assuming that
-the weights of a {49} particle of potassa and of soda are in
-the proportion of 590 to 391.
-
-But we pursue our analysis further. We find that potassa is
-a compound of a metallic base, potassium, and of oxygen, in
-the proportion of 490 to 100; we suppose, then, that the
-particle of potassa consists of a particle of potassium and
-a particle of oxygen; and these latter particles, since we
-see no present need to suppose them divided, potassium and
-oxygen being simple bodies, we may call _atoms_, and assume to
-be indivisible. And by supposing all simple bodies to
-consist of such atoms, and compounds to be formed by the
-union of two, or three, or more of such atoms, we explain
-the occurrence of definite and multiple proportions, and we
-construct the Atomic Theory.
-
-2. _Hypothesis of Atoms._--So far as the assumption of such
-atoms as we have spoken of serves to express those laws of
-chemical composition which we have referred to, it is a
-clear and useful generalization. But if the Atomic Theory be
-put forwards (and its author, Dr. Dalton, appears to have
-put it forwards with such an intention,) as asserting that
-chemical elements are really composed of _atoms_, that is,
-of such particles not further divisible, we cannot avoid
-remarking, that for such a conclusion, chemical research has
-not afforded, nor can afford, any satisfactory evidence
-whatever. The smallest observable quantities of ingredients,
-as well as the largest, combine according to the laws of
-proportions and equivalence which have been cited above. How
-are we to deduce from such facts any inference with regard
-to the existence of certain smallest possible particles? The
-Theory, when dogmatically taught as a physical truth,
-asserts that all observable quantities of elements _are_
-composed of proportional numbers of particles which can no
-further be subdivided; but all which observation teaches us
-is, that if there be such particles, they are smaller than
-the smallest observable quantities. In chemical experiment,
-at least, there is not the slightest positive evidence for
-the existence of such atoms. The assumption of _indivisible_
-particles, smaller than the smallest {50} observable, which
-combine, particle with particle, will explain the phenomena;
-but the assumption of particles bearing this proportion, but
-_not_ possessing the property of indivisibility, will explain
-the phenomena at least equally well. The decision of the
-question, therefore, whether the Atomic Hypothesis be the
-proper way of conceiving the chemical combinations of
-substances, must depend, not upon chemical facts, but upon
-our conception of Substance. In this sense the question is
-an ancient and curious controversy, and we shall hereafter
-have to make some remarks upon it.
-
-3. _Chemical Difficulties of the Hypothesis._--But before
-doing this, we may observe that there is no small difficulty
-in reconciling this hypothesis with the facts of chemistry.
-According to the theory, all salts, compounded of an acid
-and a base, are analogous in their atomic constitution; and
-the number of atoms in one such compound being known or
-assumed, the number of atoms in other salts may be
-determined. But when we proceed in this course of reasoning
-to other bodies, as metals, we find ourselves involved in
-difficulties. The protoxide of iron is a base which,
-according to all analogy, must consist of one atom of iron
-and one of oxygen: but the peroxide of iron is also a base,
-and it appears by the analysis of this substance that it
-must consist of _two-thirds_ of an atom of iron and one atom
-of oxygen. Here, then, our indivisible atoms must be
-divisible, even upon chemical grounds. And if we attempt to
-evade this difficulty by making the peroxide of iron consist
-of two atoms of iron and three of oxygen, we have to make a
-corresponding alteration in the theoretical constitution of
-all bodies analogous to the protoxide; and thus we overturn
-the very foundation of the theory. Chemical facts,
-therefore, not only do not prove the Atomic Theory as a
-physical truth, but they are not, according to any
-modification yet devised of the theory, reconcileable with
-its scheme.
-
-Nearly the same conclusions result from the attempts to
-employ the Atomic Hypothesis in expressing another important
-chemical law;--the law of the {51} combinations of gases
-according to definite proportions of their volumes,
-experimentally established by Gay Lussac[40\6]. In order to
-account for this law, it has been very plausibly suggested
-that all gases, under the same pressure, contain an equal
-number of atoms in the same space; and that when they
-combine, they unite atom to atom. Thus one volume of
-chlorine unites with one volume of hydrogen, and forms
-hydrochloric acid[41\6]. But then this hydrochloric acid
-occupies the space of the two volumes; and therefore the
-proper number of particles cannot be supplied, and the
-uniform distribution of atoms in all gases maintained,
-without dividing into two each of the compound particles,
-constituted of an atom of chlorine and an atom of hydrogen.
-And thus in this case, also, the Atomic Theory becomes
-untenable if it be understood to imply the indivisibility of
-the atoms.
-
-[Note 40\6: _Hist. Ind. Sc._ b. xiv. c. 8.]
-
-[Note 41\6: Dumas, _Phil. Chim._ 263.]
-
-In all these attempts to obtain distinct physical conception
-of chemical union by the aid of the Atomic Hypothesis, the
-atoms are conceived to be associated by certain forces of
-the nature of mechanical attractions. But we have already
-seen[42\6] that no such mode of conception can at all
-explain or express the facts of chemical combination; and
-therefore it is not wonderful that when the Atomic Theory
-attempts to give an account of chemical relations by
-contemplating them under such an aspect, the facts on which
-it grounds itself should be found not to authorize its
-positive doctrines; and that when these doctrines are tried
-upon the general range of chemical observation, they should
-prove incapable of even expressing, without
-self-contradiction, the laws of phenomena.
-
-[Note 42\6: See Chapter I. of this book.]
-
-4. _Grounds of the Atomic Doctrine._--Yet the doctrine of
-atoms, or of substance as composed of indivisible particles,
-has in all ages had great hold upon the minds of physical
-speculators; nor would this doctrine ever have suggested
-itself so readily, or have been maintained so tenaciously,
-as the true mode of {52} conceiving chemical combinations,
-if it had not been already familiar to the minds of those
-who endeavour to obtain a general view of the constitution
-of nature. The grounds of the assumption of the atomic
-structure of substance are to be found rather in the idea of
-substance itself, than in the experimental laws of chemical
-affinity. And the question of the existence of atoms, thus
-depending upon an idea which has been the subject of
-contemplation from the very infancy of philosophy, has been
-discussed in all ages with interest and ingenuity. On this
-very account it is unlikely that the question, so far as it
-bears upon chemistry, should admit of any clear and final
-solution. Still it will be instructive to look back at some
-of the opinions which have been delivered respecting this
-doctrine.
-
-5. _Ancient Prevalence of the Atomic Doctrine._--The
-doctrine that matter consists of minute, simple,
-indivisible, indestructible particles as its ultimate
-elements, has been current in all ages and countries,
-whenever the tendency of man to wide and subtle speculations
-has been active. I need not attempt to trace the history of
-this opinion in the schools of Greece and Italy. It was the
-leading feature in the physical tenets of the Epicureans,
-and was adopted by their Roman disciples, as the poem of
-Lucretius copiously shows us. The same tenet had been held
-at still earlier periods, in forms more or less definite, by
-other philosophers. It is ascribed to Democritus, and is
-said to have been by him derived from Leucippus. But this
-doctrine is found also, we are told[43\6], among the
-speculations of another intellectual and acute race, the
-Hindoos. According to some of their philosophical writers,
-the ultimate elements of matter are atoms, of which it is
-proved by certain reasonings, that they are each one-sixth
-of one of the motes that float in the sunbeam.
-
-[Note 43\6: By Mr. Colebrook. _Asiatic Res._ 1824.]
-
-This early prevalence of controversies of the widest and
-deepest kind, which even in our day remain undecided, has in
-it nothing which need surprize us; or, at least, it has in
-it nothing which is not in conformity {53} with the general
-course of the history of philosophy. As soon as any ideas
-are clearly possessed by the human mind, its activity and
-acuteness in reasoning upon them are such, that the
-fundamental antitheses and ultimate difficulties which
-belong to them are soon brought into view. The Greek and
-Indian philosophers had mastered completely the Idea of
-Space, and possessed the Idea of Substance in tolerable
-distinctness. They were, therefore, quite ready, with their
-lively and subtle minds, to discuss the question of the
-finite and infinite divisibility of matter, so far as it
-involved only the ideas of space and of substance, and this
-accordingly they did with great ingenuity and perseverance.
-
-But the ideas of Space and of Substance are far from being
-sufficient to enable men to form a complete general view of
-the constitution of matter. We must add to these ideas, that
-of mechanical Force with its antagonist Resistance, and that
-of the Affinity of one kind of matter for another. Now the
-former of these ideas the ancients possessed in a very
-obscure and confused manner; and of the latter they had no
-apprehension whatever. They made vague assumptions
-respecting the impact and pressure of atoms on each other;
-but of their mutual attraction and repulsion they never had
-any conception, except of the most dim and wavering kind;
-and of an affinity different from mere local union they did
-not even dream. Their speculations concerning atoms,
-therefore, can have no value for us, except as a part of the
-history of science. If their doctrines appear to us to
-approach near to the conclusions of our modern philosophy,
-it must be because our modern philosophy is that philosophy
-which has not fully profited by the additional light which
-the experiments and meditations of later times have thrown
-upon the constitution of matter.
-
-6. _Bacon._--Still, when modern philosophers look upon the
-Atomic Theory of the ancients in a general point of view
-merely, without considering the special conditions which
-such a theory must fulfil, in order to represent the
-discoveries of modern times, they are {54} disposed to
-regard it with admiration. Accordingly we find Francis Bacon
-strongly expressing such a feeling. The Atomic Theory is
-selected and dwelt upon by him as the chain which connects
-the best parts of the physical philosophy of the ancient and
-the modern world. Among his works is a remarkable
-dissertation _On the Philosophy of Democritus, Parmenides,
-and Telesius_: the last mentioned of whom was one of the
-revivers of physical science in modern times. In this work
-he speaks of the atomic doctrine of Democritus as a
-favourable example of the exertions of the undisciplined
-intellect. 'Hæc ipsa placita, quamvis paulo emendatiora,
-talia sunt qualia esse possunt illa quæ ab intellectu sibi
-permisso, nec continenter et gradatim sublevato, profecta
-videntur.'--'These doctrines, thus [in an ancient fable]
-presented in a better form, are such glimpses of truth as
-can be obtained by the intellect left to its own natural
-impulses, and not ascending by successive and connected
-steps,' [as the Baconian philosophy directs]. 'Accordingly,'
-he adds, 'the doctrine of Atoms, from its going a step
-beyond the period in which it was advanced, was ridiculed by
-the vulgar, and severely handled in the disputations of the
-learned, notwithstanding the profound acquaintance with
-physical science by which its author was allowed to be
-distinguished, and from which he acquired the character of a
-magician.'
-
-'However,' he continues, 'neither the hostility of
-Aristotle, with all his skill and vigour in disputation,
-(though, like the Ottoman sultans, he laboured to destroy
-all his brother philosophers that he might rest undisputed
-master of the throne of science,) nor the majestic and lofty
-authority of Plato, could effect the subversion of the
-doctrine of Democritus. And while the opinions of Plato and
-Aristotle were rehearsed with loud declamation and
-professorial pomp in the schools, this of Democritus was
-always held in high honour by those of a deeper wisdom, who
-followed in silence a severer path of contemplation. In the
-days of Roman speculation it kept its ground and its favour;
-Cicero everywhere speaks of its author with the {55}
-greatest praise; and Juvenal, who, like poets in general,
-probably expressed the prevailing judgment of his time,
-proclaims his merit as a noble exception to the general
-stupidity of his countrymen.
- . . . . Cujus prudentia monstrat
- Magnos posse viros et magna exempla daturos
- Vervecum in patriâ crassoque sub aere nasci.
-
-'The destruction of this philosophy was not effected by
-Aristotle and Plato, but by Genseric and Attila, and their
-barbarians. For then, when human knowledge had suffered
-shipwreck, those fragments of the Aristotelian and Platonic
-philosophy floated on the surface like things of some
-lighter and emptier sort, and so were preserved; while more
-solid matters went to the bottom, and were almost lost in
-oblivion.'
-
-7. _Modern Prevalence of the Atomic Doctrine._--It is our
-business here to consider the doctrine of Atoms only in its
-bearing upon existing physical sciences, and I must
-therefore abstain from tracing the various manifestations of
-it in the schemes of hypothetical cosmologists;--its place
-among the _vortices_ of Descartes, its exhibition in the
-_monads_ of Leibnitz. I will, however, quote a passage from
-Newton to show the hold it had upon his mind.
-
-At the close of his _Opticks_ he says, 'All these things
-being considered, it seems probable to me that God, in the
-beginning, formed matter in solid, massy, hard,
-impenetrable, moveable particles, of such sizes and figures,
-and with such other properties, and in such proportions to
-space, as most conduced to the end for which He formed them;
-and that the primitive particles, being solids, are
-incomparably harder than any porous bodies compounded of
-them, even so very hard as never to wear or break in pieces;
-no ordinary power being able to divide what God had made one
-in the first creation. While the particles continue entire,
-they may compose bodies of one and the same nature and
-texture in all ages: but should they wear away or break in
-pieces, the nature of things depending on them would be
-changed. Water and earth composed {56} of old worn particles
-and fragments of particles would not be of the same nature
-and texture now with water and earth composed of entire
-particles in the beginning. And therefore that nature may be
-lasting, the changes of corporeal things are to be placed
-only in the various separations and new associations and
-motions of these permanent particles; compounded bodies
-being apt to break, not in the midst of solid particles, but
-where those particles are laid together and only touch in a
-few points.'
-
-We shall hereafter see how extensively the atomic doctrine
-has prevailed among still more recent philosophers. Not only
-have the chemists assumed it as the fittest form for
-exhibiting the principles of multiple proportions; but the
-physical mathematicians, as Laplace and Poisson, have made
-it the basis of their theories of heat, electricity,
-capillary action; and the crystallographers have been
-supposed to have established both the existence and the
-arrangement of such ultimate molecules.
-
-In the way in which it has been employed by such writers,
-the hypothesis of ultimate particles has been of great use,
-and is undoubtedly permissible. But when we would assert
-this theory, not as a convenient hypothesis for the
-expression or calculation of the laws of nature, but as a
-philosophical truth respecting the constitution of the
-universe, we find ourselves checked by difficulties of
-reasoning which we cannot overcome, as well as by
-conflicting phenomena which we cannot reconcile. I will
-attempt to state briefly the opposing arguments on this
-question.
-
-8. _Arguments for and against Atoms._--The leading arguments
-on the two sides of the question, in their most general
-form, may be stated as follows:
-
-_For_ the Atomic Doctrine.--The appearances which nature
-presents are compounded of many parts, but if we go on
-resolving the larger parts into smaller, and so on
-successively, we must at last come to something simple. For
-that which is compound can be so no otherwise than by
-composition of what is simple; and if we suppose all
-composition to be removed, which {57} hypothetically we may
-do, there can remain nothing but a number of simple
-substances, capable of composition, but themselves not
-compounded. That is, matter being dissolved, resolves itself
-into atoms.
-
-_Against_ the Atomic Doctrine.--Space is divisible without
-limit, as may be proved by Geometry; and matter occupies
-space, therefore matter is divisible without limit, and no
-portion of matter is indivisible, or an _atom_.
-
-And to the argument on the other side just stated, it is
-replied that we cannot even hypothetically divest a body of
-composition, if by composition we mean the relation of point
-to point in space. However small be a particle, it is
-compounded of parts having relation in space.
-
-The Atomists urge again, that if matter be infinitely
-divisible, a finite body consists of an infinite number of
-parts, which is a contradiction. To this it is replied, that
-the finite body consists of an infinite number of parts in
-the same sense in which the parts are infinitely small,
-which is no contradiction.
-
-But the opponents of the Atomists not only rebut, but retort
-this argument drawn from the notion of infinity. Your atoms,
-they say, are indivisible by any finite force; therefore
-they are infinitely hard; and thus your finite particles
-possess infinite properties. To this the Atomists are wont
-to reply, that they do not mean the hardness of their
-particles to be infinite, but only so great as to resist all
-usual natural forces. But here it is plain that their
-position becomes untenable; for, in the first place, their
-assumption of this precise degree of hardness in the
-particles is altogether gratuitous; and in the next place,
-if it were granted, such particles are not atoms, since in
-the next moment the forces of nature may be augmented so as
-to divide the particle, though hitherto undivided.
-
-Such are the arguments for and against the Atomic Theory in
-its original form. But when these atoms are conceived, as
-they have been by Newton, and commonly by his followers, to
-be solid, hard particles exerting attractive and repulsive
-forces, a new set of {58} arguments come into play. Of
-these, the principal one may be thus stated: According to
-the Atomic Theory thus modified, the properties of bodies
-depend upon the attractions and repulsions of the particles.
-Therefore, among other properties of bodies, their hardness
-depends upon such forces. But if the hardness _of the
-bodies_ depends upon the forces, the repulsion, for
-instance, of the particles, upon what does the hardness _of
-the particles_ depend? what progress do we make in
-explaining the properties of bodies, when we assume the same
-properties in our explanation? and to what purpose do we
-assume that the particles are hard?
-
-9. _Transition to Boscovich's Theory._--To this difficulty
-it does not appear easy to offer any reply. But if the
-hardness and solidity of the particles be given up as an
-incongruous and untenable appendage to the Newtonian view of
-the Atomic Theory, we are led to the theory of Boscovich,
-according to which matter consists not of solid particles,
-but of mere mathematical centers of force. According to this
-theory, each body is composed of a number of geometrical
-points from which emanate forces, following certain
-mathematical laws in virtue of which the forces become, at
-certain small distances attractive, at certain other
-distances repulsive, and at greater distances attractive
-again. From these forces of the points arise the cohesion of
-the parts of the same body, the resistance which it exerts
-against the pressure of another body, and finally the
-attraction of gravitation which it exerts upon bodies at a
-distance.
-
-This theory is at least a homogeneous and consistent theory,
-and it is probable that it may be used as an instrument for
-investigating and expressing true laws of nature; although,
-as we have already said, the attempt to identify the forces
-by which the particles of bodies are bound together with
-mechanical attraction, appears to be a confusion of two
-separate ideas[44\6].
-
-[Note 44\6: 'Boscovich's Theory,' that all bodies may be
-considered as consisting of a mere collection of centers of
-forces, may be so conceived as possibly to involve an
-explanation of all the powers which their parts exert, (such
-powers, namely, as those which produce optical, thermotical
-and chemical phenomena;) but this theory cannot supply an
-explanation of the mechanical properties of a body as a
-whole, especially of its _inertia_. A collection of mere
-centers of force can have no inertia. If two bodies are
-considered as two collections of centers of force, the one
-attracting the other, there is in this view nothing to limit
-or determine the velocity with which the one body will
-approach the other. A world composed of such bodies is not a
-_material_ world: for matter (as we have already seen in
-book iii. chapter v.) implies not only force, but something
-which resists the action of force.]
-
-{59} 10. _Use of the Molecular Hypothesis._--In this form,
-representing matter as a collection of molecules or centers
-of force, the Atomic Theory has been abundantly employed in
-modern times as an hypothesis on which calculations
-respecting the elementary forces of bodies might be
-conducted. When thus employed it is to be considered as
-expressing the principle that the properties of bodies
-depend upon forces emanating from immovable points of their
-mass. This view of the way in which the properties of bodies
-are to be treated by the mechanical philosopher was
-introduced by Newton, and was a natural sequel to the
-success which he had obtained by reasoning concerning
-central forces on a large scale. I have already quoted his
-Preface to the _Principia_, in which he says, 'Many things
-induce me to believe that the rest of the phenomena of
-nature, as well as those of astronomy, may depend upon
-certain forces by which the particles of bodies, in virtue
-of causes not yet known, are urged towards each other and
-cohere in regular figures, or are mutually repelled and
-recede; and philosophers, knowing nothing of these forces,
-have hitherto failed in their examination of nature.' Since
-the time of Newton, this line of speculation has been
-followed with great assiduity, and by some mathematicians
-with great success. In particular Laplace has shown that the
-hypothesis may, in many instances, be made a much closer
-representation of nature, if we suppose the forces exerted
-by the particles to decrease so rapidly with the increasing
-distance from them, that {60} the force is finite only at
-distances imperceptible to our senses, and vanishes at all
-remoter points. He has taught the method of expressing and
-calculating such forces, and he and other mathematicians of
-his school have applied this method to many of the most
-important questions of physics; as capillary action, the
-elasticity of solids, the conduction and radiation of heat.
-The explanation of many apparently unconnected and curious
-observed facts by these mathematical theories gives a strong
-assurance that its essential principles are true. But it
-must be observed that the actual constitution of bodies as
-composed of distinct and separate particles is by no means
-proved by these coincidences. The assumption, in the
-reasoning, of certain centers of force acting at a distance,
-is to be considered as nothing more than a method of
-reducing to calculation that view of the constitution of
-bodies which supposes that they exert force at _every_
-point. It is a mathematical artifice of the same kind as the
-hypothetical division of a body into infinitesimal parts, in
-order to find its center of gravity; and no more implies a
-physical reality than that hypothesis does.
-
-11. _Poisson's Inference._--When, therefore, M. Poisson, in
-his views of Capillary Action, treats this hypothetical
-distribution of centers of force as if it were a physical
-fact, and blames Laplace for not taking account of their
-different distribution at the surface of the fluid and below
-it[45\6], he appears to push the claims of the molecular
-hypothesis too far. The only ground for the assumption of
-separate centers, is that we can thus explain the action of
-the whole mass. The intervals between the centers nowhere
-enter into this explanation: and therefore we can have no
-reason for assuming these intervals different in one part of
-the fluid and in the other. M. Poisson asserts that the
-density of the fluid diminishes when we approach very near
-the surface; but he allows that this diminution is not
-detected by experiment, and that the formulæ on {61} his
-supposition, so far as the results go, are identical with
-those of Laplace. It is clear, then, that his doctrine
-consists merely in the assertion of the necessary truth of a
-part of the hypothesis which cannot be put to the test of
-experiment. It is true, that so long as we have before us
-the hypothesis of separate centers, the particles very near
-the surface are not in a condition symmetrical with that of
-the others: but it is also true that this hypothesis is only
-a step of calculation. There results, at one period of the
-process of deduction, a stratum of smaller density at the
-surface of the fluid; but at a succeeding point of the
-reasoning the thickness of this stratum vanishes; it has no
-physical existence.
-
-[Note 45\6: Poisson, _Théorie de l'Action Capillaire_.]
-
-Thus the _molecular_ hypothesis, as used in such cases, does
-not differ from the doctrine of forces acting at _every
-point_ of the mass; and this principle, which is common to
-both the opposite views, is the true part of each.
-
-12. _Wollaston's Argument._--An attempt has been made in
-another case, but depending on nearly the same arguments, to
-bring the doctrine of ultimate atoms to the test of
-observation. In the case of the air, we know that there _is_
-a diminution of density in approaching the upper surface of
-the atmosphere, if it have a surface: but it is held by some
-that except we allow the doctrine of ultimate molecules, it
-will not be bounded by any surface, but will extend to an
-infinite distance. This is the reasoning of Wollaston[46\6].
-'If air consists of any ultimate particles no longer
-divisible, then must the expansion of the medium composed of
-them cease at that distance where the force of gravity
-downwards is equal to the resistance arising from the
-repulsive force of the medium.' But if there be no such
-ultimate particles, every stratum will require a stratum
-beyond it to prevent by its weight a further expansion, and
-thus the atmosphere {62} must extend to an infinite
-distance. And Wollaston conceived that he could learn from
-observation whether the atmosphere was thus diffused through
-all space; for if so, it must, he argued, be accumulated
-about the larger bodies of the system, as Jupiter and the
-Sun, by the law of universal gravitation; and the existence
-of an atmosphere about these bodies, might, he remarked, be
-detected by its effects in producing refraction. His result
-is, that 'all the phenomena accord entirely with the
-supposition that the earth's atmosphere is of finite extent,
-limited by the weight of ultimate atoms of definite
-magnitude, no longer divisible by repulsion of their parts.'
-
-[Note 46\6: _Phil. Trans._ 1822, p. 89.]
-
-A very little reflection will show us that such a line of
-reasoning cannot lead to any result. For we know nothing of
-the law which connects the density with the compressing
-force, in air so extremely rare as we must suppose it to be
-near the boundary of the atmosphere. Now there are possible
-laws of dependence of the density upon the compressing force
-such that the atmosphere would terminate in virtue of the
-law without any assumption of atoms. This may be proved by
-mathematical reasoning. If we suppose the density of air to
-be as the square root of the compressing force, it will
-follow that at the very limits of the atmosphere, the strata
-of equal thickness may observe in their densities such a law
-of proportion as is expressed by the numbers 7, 5, 3,
-1[47\6].
-
-[Note 47\6: For the compressing force on each being as the
-whole weight beyond it, it will be for the four highest
-strata, 16, 9, 4 and 1, of which the square roots are as 4,
-3, 2, 1, or, as 8, 6, 4, 2; and though these numbers are not
-exactly as the densities 7, 5, 3, 1, those who are a little
-acquainted with mathematical reasoning, will see that the
-difference arises from taking so small a number of strata.
-If we were to make the strata indefinitely thin, as to avoid
-error we ought to do, the coincidence would be exact; and
-thus, according to this law, the series of strata terminates
-as we ascend, without any consideration of atoms.]
-
-If it be asked how, on this hypothesis, the density of the
-highest stratum can be as 1, since there is {63} nothing to
-compress it, we answer that the upper part of the highest
-stratum compresses the lower, and that the density
-diminishes continually to the surface, so that the need of
-compression and the compressing weight vanish together.
-
-The fallacy of concluding that because the height of the
-atmosphere is finite, the weight of the highest stratum must
-be finite, is just the same as the fallacy of those who
-conclude that when we project a body vertically upwards,
-because it occupies only a finite time in ascending to the
-highest point, the velocity at the last instant of the
-ascent must be finite. For it might be said, if the last
-velocity of ascent be not finite, how can the body describe
-the last particle of space in a finite time? and the answer
-is, that there is no last finite particle of space, and
-therefore no last finite velocity.
-
-13. _Permanence of Properties of Bodies._--We have already
-seen that, in explaining the properties of matter as we find
-them in nature, the assumption of solid, hard,
-indestructible particles is of no use or value. But we may
-remark, before quitting the subject, that Newton appears to
-have had another reason for assuming such particles, and one
-well worthy of notice. He wished to express, by means of
-this hypothesis, the doctrine that the laws of nature do not
-alter with the course of time. This we have already seen in
-the quotation from Newton. 'The ultimate particles of matter
-are indestructible, unalterable, impenetrable; for if they
-could break or wear, the structure of material bodies now
-would be different from that which it was when the particles
-were new.' No philosopher will deny the truth which is thus
-conveyed by the assertion of atoms; but it is obviously
-equally easy for a person who rejects the atomic view, to
-state this truth by saying that the forces which matter
-exerts do not vary with time, but however modified by the
-new modifications of its form, are always unimpaired in
-quantity, and capable of being restored to their former mode
-of action. {64}
-
-We now proceed to speculations in which the fundamental
-conceptions may, perhaps, be expressed, at least in some
-cases, by means of the arrangement of atoms; but in which
-the philosophy of the subject appears to require a reference
-to a new Fundamental Idea.
-
-
-
-
-{{65}}
-BOOK VII.
-
-
-THE
-PHILOSOPHY
-OF
-MORPHOLOGY,
-INCLUDING
-CRYSTALLOGRAPHY.
-
-
-
-
-CRYSTALLIZATION exhibits to us the effects of the natural
-arrangement of the ultimate particles of various compound
-bodies; but we are scarcely yet sufficiently acquainted with
-chemical synthesis and analysis to understand the rationale
-of this process. The rhomboidal form may arise from the
-proper position of 4, 6, 8 or 9 globular particles, the
-cubic form from 8 particles, the triangular form from 3, 6
-or 10 particles, the hexahedral prism from 7 particles, &c.
-Perhaps, in due time we may be enabled to ascertain the
-number and order of elementary particles, constituting any
-given compound element, and from that determine the figure
-which it will prefer on crystallization, and _vice versâ_.
-
-JOHN DALTON, _Chemical Philosophy_ (1808), p. 210.
-
-
-
-{{67}}
-BOOK VII.
-
-
-THE PHILOSOPHY OF MORPHOLOGY, INCLUDING CRYSTALLOGRAPHY.
-
-
-CHAPTER I.
-
-EXPLICATION OF THE IDEA OF SYMMETRY.
-
-
-1. WE have seen in the History of the Sciences, that the
-principle which I have there termed[1\7] the Principle of
-Developed and Metamorphosed Symmetry, has been extensively
-applied in botany and physiology, and has given rise to a
-province of science termed Morphology. In order to
-understand clearly this principle, it is necessary to obtain
-a clear idea of the Symmetry of which we thus speak. But
-this Idea of Symmetry is applicable in the inorganic, as
-well as in the organic kingdoms of nature; it is presented
-to our eyes in the forms of minerals, as well as of flowers
-and animals; we must, therefore, take it under our
-consideration here, in order that we may complete our view
-of Mineralogy, which, as I have repeatedly said, is an
-essential part of Chemical science. I shall accordingly
-endeavour to unfold the Idea of Symmetry with which we here
-have to do.
-
-[Note 1\7: _Hist. Ind. Sc._ b. xvii. c. vi.]
-
-It will of course be understood that by the term _Symmetry_
-I here intend, not that more indefinite attribute of form
-which belongs to the domain of the fine arts, as when we
-speak of the 'symmetry' of an edifice {68} or of a
-sculptured figure, but a certain definite relation or
-property, no less rigorous and precise than other relations
-of number and position, which is thus one of the sure guides
-of the scientific faculty, and one of the bases of our exact
-science.
-
-2. In order to explain what Symmetry is in this sense, let
-the reader recollect that the bodies of animals consist of
-_two_ equal and similar sets of members, the right and the
-left side;--that some flowers consist of three or of five
-equal sets of organs, similarly and regularly disposed, as
-the iris has _three_ straight petals, and three reflexed
-ones, alternately disposed, the rose has _five_ equal and
-similar sepals of the calyx, and alternate with these, as
-many petals of the corolla. This orderly and exactly similar
-distribution of two, or three, or five, or any other number
-of parts, is Symmetry; and according to its various
-modifications, the forms thus determined are said to be
-_symmetrical_ with various numbers of members. The
-classification of these different kinds of symmetry has been
-most attended to in Crystallography, in which science it is
-the highest and most general principle by which the classes
-of forms are governed. Without entering far into the
-technicalities of the subject, we may point out some of the
-features of such classes.
-
-[Illustration] The first of the figures (1) in the margin
-may represent the summit of a crystal as it appears to an
-eye looking directly down upon it; the center of the figure
-represents the summit of a pyramid, and the spaces of
-various forms which diverge from this point represent
-sloping sides of the pyramid. Now it will be observed that
-the figure consists of three portions exactly similar to one
-another, and that each part or member is repeated in each of
-these portions. The faces, or pairs of faces, are repeated
-in _threes_, with exactly similar forms and angles. This
-figure is said to be _three-membered_, or to have
-_triangular_ symmetry. The same kind of {69} symmetry may
-exist in a flower, as presented in the accompanying figure,
-and does, in fact, occur in a large class of flowers, as for
-example, all the lily tribe. The next pair of figures (2)
-have four equal and similar portions, and have their members
-or pairs of members four times repeated. Such figures are
-termed _four-membered_, and are said to have _square_ or
-_tetragonal_ symmetry. The _pentagonal_ symmetry, formed by
-_five_ similar _members_, is represented in the next figures
-(3). It occurs abundantly in the vegetable world, but never
-among crystals; for the pentagonal figures which crystals
-sometimes assume, are never exactly regular. But there is
-still another kind of symmetry (4) in which the opposite
-ends are exactly similar to each other and also the opposite
-sides; this is _oblong_, or _two-and-two-membered_ symmetry.
-And finally, we have the case of _simple_ symmetry (5) in
-which the two sides of the object are exactly alike (in
-opposite positions) without any further repetition.
-[Illustration]
-
-3. These different kinds of symmetry occur in various ways
-in the animal, vegetable, and mineral kingdom. Vertebrate
-animals have a right and a {70} left side exactly alike, and
-thus possess _simple_ symmetry. The same kind of symmetry
-(simple symmetry) occurs very largely in the forms of
-vegetables, as in most leaves, in _papilionaceous_,
-_personate_, and _labiate_ flowers. Among minerals, crystals
-which possess this symmetry are called _oblique-prismatic_,
-and are of very frequent occurrence. The _oblong_, or
-_two-and-two-membered_ symmetry belongs to _right-prismatic_
-crystals; and may be seen in _cruciferous_ flowers, for
-though these are cross-shaped, the cross has two longer and
-two shorter arms, or pairs of arms. The _square_ or
-_tetragonal_ symmetry occurs in crystals abundantly; to the
-vegetable world it appears to be less congenial; for though
-there are flowers with four exactly similar and
-regularly-disposed petals, as the herb Paris (_Paris
-quadrifolia_), these flowers appear, from various
-circumstances, to be deviations from the usual type of
-vegetable forms. The _trigonal_, or _three-membered_
-symmetry is found abundantly both in plants and in crystals,
-while the _pentagonal_ symmetry, on the other hand, though
-by far the most common among flowers, nowhere occurs in
-minerals, and does not appear to be a possible form of
-crystals. This pentagonal form further occurs in the animal
-kingdom, which the oblong, triangular, and square forms do
-not. Many of Cuvier's _radiate_ animals appear in this
-pentagonal form, as _echini_ and _pentacrinites_, which
-latter have hence their name.
-
-4. The regular, or as they may be called, the _normal_ types
-of the vegetable world appear to be the forms which possess
-triangular and pentagonal symmetry; from these the others
-may be conceived to be derived, by transformations resulting
-from the expansion of one or more parts. Thus it is manifest
-that if in a three-membered or five-membered flower, one of
-the petals be expanded more than the other, it is
-immediately reduced from pentagonal or trigonal, to simple
-symmetry. And the oblong or two-and-two-membered symmetry of
-the flowers of cruciferous plants, (in which the stamens are
-four large and two small ones, arranged in regular
-opposition,) is held by botanists to result {71} from a
-normal form with ten stamens; Meinecke explaining this by
-adhesion, and Sprengel by the metamorphosis of the stamens
-into petals[2\7].
-
-[Note 2\7: Sprengel, _Gesch. d. Bot._ ii. 304.]
-
-It is easy to see that these various kinds of symmetry
-include relations both of form and of number, but more
-especially of the latter kind; and as this symmetry is often
-an important character in various classes of natural
-objects, such classes have often curious numerical
-properties. One of the most remarkable and extensive of
-these is the distinction which prevails between
-monocotyledonous and dicotyledonous plants; the number
-_three_ being the ground of the symmetry of the former, and
-the number _five_, of the latter. Thus liliaceous and
-bulbous plants, and the like, have flowers of three or six
-petals, and the other organs follow the same numbers: while
-the vast majority of plants are pentandrous, and with their
-five stamens have also their other parts in fives. This
-great numerical distinction corresponding to a leading
-difference of physiological structure cannot but be
-considered as a highly curious fact in phytology. Such
-properties of numbers, thus connected in an incomprehensible
-manner with fundamental and extensive laws of nature, give
-to numbers an appearance of mysterious importance and
-efficacy. We learn from history how strongly the study of
-such properties, as they are exhibited by the phenomena of
-the heavens, took possession of the mind of Kepler; perhaps
-it was this which, at an earlier period, contributed in no
-small degree to the numerical mysticism of the Pythagoreans
-in antiquity, and of the Arabians and others in the middle
-ages. In crystallography, numbers are the primary characters
-in which the properties of substances are expressed;--they
-appear, first, in that classification of forms which depends
-on the degree of symmetry, that is, upon the number of
-correspondencies; and next, in the laws of derivation,
-which, for the most part, appear to be common in their
-occurrence in proportion to the numerical simplicity of
-their expression. But the manifestation {72} of a governing
-numerical relation in the organic world strikes us as more
-unexpected; and the selection of the number _five_ as the
-index of the symmetry of dicotyledonous plants and radiated
-animals, (a number which is nowhere symmetrically produced
-in inorganic bodies,) makes this a new and remarkable
-illustration of the constancy of numerical relations. We may
-observe, however, that the moment one of these radiate
-animals has one of its five members expanded, or in any way
-peculiarly modified, (as happens among the echini), it is
-reduced to the common type of animals simply symmetrical,
-with a right and left side.
-
-5. It is not necessary to attempt to enumerate all the kinds
-of Symmetry, since our object is only to explain what
-Symmetry is, and for this purpose enough has probably been
-said already. It will be seen, as soon as the notion of
-Symmetry in general is well apprehended, that it is or
-includes a peculiar Fundamental Idea, not capable of being
-resolved into any of the ideas hitherto examined. It may be
-said, perhaps, that the Idea of Symmetry is a modification
-or derivative of our ideas of space and number;--that a
-symmetrical shape is one which consists of parts exactly
-similar, repeated a certain number of times, and placed so
-as to correspond with each other. But on further reflection
-it will be seen that this repetition and correspondence of
-parts in symmetrical figures are something peculiar; for it
-is not _any_ repetition or any correspondence of parts to
-which we should give the name of symmetry, in the manner in
-which we are now using the term. Symmetrical arrangements
-may, no doubt, be concerned with space and position, time
-and number; but there appears to be implied in them a
-Fundamental Idea of regularity, of completeness, of complex
-simplicity, which is not a mere modification of other ideas.
-
-6. It is, however, not necessary, in this and in similar
-cases, to determine whether the idea which we have before us
-be a peculiar and independent Fundamental Idea or a
-modification of other ideas, provided we clearly perceive
-the evidence of those Axioms by {73} means of which the Idea
-is applied in scientific reasonings. Now in the application
-of the Idea of Symmetry to crystallography, phytology and
-zoology, we must have this idea embodied in some principle
-which asserts more than a mere geometrical or numerical
-accordance of members. We must have it involved in some
-vital or productive action, in order that it may connect and
-explain the facts of the organic world. Nor is it difficult
-to enunciate such a principle. We may state it in this
-manner. _All the symmetrical members of a natural product
-are, under like circumstances, alike affected by the natural
-formative power._ The parts which we have termed
-_symmetrical_, resemble each other, not only in their form
-and position, but also in the manner in which they are
-produced and modified by natural causes. And this principle
-we assume to be necessarily true, however unknown and
-inconceivable may be the causes which determine the
-phenomena. Thus it has not yet been found possible to
-discover or represent to ourselves, in any intelligible
-manner, the forces by which the various faces of a crystal
-are consequent upon its primary form: for the hypothesis of
-their being built up of integrant molecules, as Haüy held,
-cannot be made satisfactory. But though the mechanism of
-crystals is still obscure, there is no doubt as to the
-principle which regulates their modifications. The whole of
-crystallography rests upon this principle, that if one of
-the primary planes or axes be modified in any manner, all
-the symmetrical planes and axes must be modified in the same
-manner. And though accidental mechanical or other causes may
-interfere with the actual exhibition of such faces, we do
-not the less assume their crystallographical reality, as
-inevitably implied in the law of symmetry of the
-crystal[3\7]. And we apply similar considerations to
-organized beings. We assume that in a regular flower, each
-of the similar {74} members has the same organization and
-similar powers of developement; and hence if among these
-similar parts some are much less developed than others, we
-consider them as _abortive_; and if we wish to remove doubts
-as to what are symmetrical members in such a case, we make
-the inquiry by tracing the anatomy of these members, or by
-following them in their earlier states of developement, or
-in cases where their capabilities are magnified by
-monstrosity or otherwise. The power of developement may be
-modified by external causes, and thus we may pass from one
-kind of symmetry to another; as we have already remarked.
-Thus a regular flower with pentagonal symmetry, growing on a
-lateral branch, has one petal nearest to the axis of the
-plant: if this petal be more or less expanded than the
-others, the pentagonal symmetry is interfered with, and the
-flower may change to a symmetry of another kind. But it is
-easy to see that all such conceptions of expansion,
-abortion, and any other kind of metamorphosis, go upon the
-supposition of identical faculties and tendencies in each
-similar member, in so far as such tendencies have any
-relation to the symmetry. And thus the principle we have
-stated above is the basis of that which, in the History, we
-termed the Principle of Developed and Metamorphosed
-Symmetry.
-
-[Note 3\7: Some crystalline forms, instead of being
-_holohedral_ (provided with their whole number of faces),
-are _hemihedral_ (provided with only half their number of
-faces). But in these hemihedral forms the half of the faces
-are still _symmetrically_ suppressed.]
-
-We shall not at present pursue the other applications of
-this Idea of Symmetry, but we shall consider some of the
-results of its introduction into Crystallography.
-
-
-
-{{75}}
-CHAPTER II.
-
-APPLICATION OF THE IDEA OF SYMMETRY TO CRYSTALS.
-
-
-1. MINERALS and other bodies of definite chemical
-composition often exhibit that marked regularity of form and
-structure which we designate by terming them _Crystals_; and
-in such crystals, when we duly study them, we perceive the
-various kinds of symmetry of which we have spoken in the
-previous chapter. And the different kinds of symmetry which
-we have there described are now usually distinguished from
-each other, by writers on crystallography. Indeed it is
-mainly to such writers that we are indebted for a sound and
-consistent classification of the kinds and degrees of
-symmetry of which forms are capable. But this classification
-was by no means invented as soon as mineralogists applied
-themselves to the study of crystals. These first attempts to
-arrange crystalline forms were very imperfect; those, for
-example, of Linnæus, Werner, Romé de Lisle, and Haüy. The
-essays of these writers implied a classification at once
-defective and superfluous. They reduced all crystals to one
-or other of certain _fundamental forms_; and this procedure
-might have been a perfectly good method of dividing
-crystalline forms into classes, if the fundamental forms had
-been selected so as to exemplify the different kinds of
-symmetry. But this was not the case. Haüy's fundamental or
-'primitive' forms, were, for instance, the following: the
-_parallelepiped_, the _octahedron_, the _tetrahedron_, the
-_regular hexagonal prism_, the _rhombic dodecahedron_, and
-the _double hexagonal pyramid_. Of these, the _octahedron_,
-the _tetrahedron_, the _rhombic dodecahedron_, all belong to
-the {76} same kind of symmetry (the TESSULAR systems); also
-the _hexagonal prism_ and the _hexagonal pyramid_ both
-belong to the RHOMBIC system; while the _parallelepiped_ is
-so employed as to include all kinds of symmetry.
-
-It is, however, to be recollected that Haüy, in his
-selection of primitive forms, not only had an eye to the
-external form of the crystal and to its degree and kind of
-regularity, but also made his classification with an
-especial reference to the _cleavage_ of the mineral, which
-he considered as a primary element in crystalline analysis.
-There can be no doubt that the cleavage of a crystal is one
-of its most important characters: it is a relation of form
-belonging to the interior, which is to be attended to no
-less than the form of the exterior. But still, the cleavage
-is to be regarded only as determining the degree of
-geometrical symmetry of the body, and not as defining a
-special geometrical figure to which the body _must_ be
-referred. To have looked upon it in the latter light, was a
-mistake of the earlier crystallographic speculators, on
-which we shall shortly have to remark.
-
-2. I have said that the reference of crystals to Primitive
-Forms might have been well employed as a mode of expressing
-a just classification of them. This follows as a consequence
-from the application of the Principle stated in the last
-chapter, that _all symmetrical members are alike affected_.
-Thus we may take an upright triangular prism as the
-representative of the rhombic system, and if we then suppose
-one of the upper edges to be cut off, or truncated, we must,
-by the Principle of Symmetry, suppose the other two upper
-edges to be truncated in precisely the same manner. By this
-truncation we may obtain the upper part of a rhombohedron;
-and by truncations of the same kind, symmetrically affecting
-all the analogous parts of the figure, we may obtain any
-other form possessing three-membered symmetry. And the same
-is true of any of the other kinds of symmetry, provided we
-make a proper selection of a fundamental form. And this was
-really the method employed by Demeste, Werner, and Romé de
-Lisle. They {77} assumed a Primitive Form, and then
-conceived other forms, such as they found in nature, to be
-derived from the Primitive Form by truncation of the edges,
-acumination of the corners, and the like processes. This
-mode of conception was a perfectly just and legitimate
-expression of the general Idea of Symmetry.
-
-3. The true view of the degrees of symmetry was, as I have
-already said, impeded by the attempts which Haüy and others
-made to arrive at primitive forms by the light which
-cleavage was supposed to throw upon the structure of
-minerals. At last, however, in Germany, as I have narrated
-in the History of Mineralogy[4\7], Weiss and Mohs introduced
-a classification of forms implying a more philosophical
-principle, dividing the forms into Systems; which, employing
-the terms of the latter writer, we shall call the
-_tessular_, the _pyramidal_ or _square pyramidal_, the
-_prismatic_ or _oblong_, and the _rhombohedral_ systems.
-
-[Note 4\7: _Hist. Ind. Sc._ b. xv. c. iv.]
-
-Of these forms, the three latter may be at once referred to
-those kinds of symmetry of which we have spoken in the last
-chapter. The _rhombohedral_ system has _triangular_
-symmetry, or is three-membered: the _pyramidal_ has _square_
-symmetry, or is four-membered: the _prismatic_ has _oblong_
-symmetry, and is two-and-two-membered. But the kinds of
-symmetry which were spoken of in the former chapter, do not
-exhaust the idea when applied to minerals. For the symmetry
-which was there explained was such only as can be exhibited
-on a surface, whereas the forms of crystals are solid. Not
-only have the right and left parts of the upper surface of a
-crystal relations to each other; but the upper surface and
-the lateral faces of the crystal have also their relations;
-they may be different, or they may be alike. If we take a
-cube, and hold it so that four of its faces are vertical,
-not only are all these four sides exactly similar, so as to
-give square symmetry; but also we may turn the cube, so that
-any one of these four sides shall become the top, and still
-the four sides which are thus made vertical, though {78} not
-the same which were vertical before, are still perfectly
-symmetrical. Thus this cubical figure possesses more than
-square symmetry. It possesses square symmetry in a vertical
-as well as in a horizontal sense. It possesses a symmetry
-which has the same relation to a _cube_ which four-membered
-symmetry has to a _square_. And this kind of symmetry is
-termed the _cubical_ or _tessular_ symmetry. All the other
-kinds of symmetry have reference to an axis, about which the
-corresponding parts are disposed; but in tessular symmetry
-the horizontal and vertical axes are also symmetrical, or
-interchangeable; and thus the figure may be said to have no
-axis at all.
-
-4. It has already been repeatedly stated that, by the very
-idea of symmetry, all the incidents of form must affect
-alike all the corresponding parts. Now in crystals we have,
-among these incidents, not only external figure, but
-_cleavage_, which may be considered as internal figure.
-Cleavage, then, must conform to the degree of symmetry of
-the figure. Accordingly cleavage, no less than form, is to
-be attended to in determining to what system a mineral
-belongs. If a crystal were to occur as a square prism or
-pyramid, it would not on that account necessarily belong to
-the square pyramidal system. If it were found that it was
-cleavable parallel to one side of the prism, but not in the
-transverse direction, it has only oblong symmetry; and the
-equality of the sides which makes it square is only
-accidental.
-
-Thus no cleavage is admissible in any system of
-crystallization which does not agree with the degree of
-symmetry of the system. On the other hand, _any_ cleavage
-which _is_ consistent with the symmetry of the system, is
-(hypothetically at least) allowable. Thus in the oblong
-prismatic system we may have a cleavage parallel to one side
-only of the prism; or parallel to both, but of different
-distinctness; or parallel to the two diagonals of the prism
-but of the same distinctness; or we may have both these
-cleavages together. In the rhombohedral system, the cleavage
-may be parallel to the sides of the rhombohedron, as in Calc
-{79} Spar: or, in the same system, the cleavage, instead of
-being thus oblique to the axis, may be along the axis in
-those directions which make equal angles with each other:
-this cleavage easily gives either a triangular or a
-hexagonal prism. Again, in the tessular system, the cleavage
-may be parallel to the surface of the cube, which is thus
-readily separable into other cubes, as in Galena; or the
-cleavage may be such as to cut off the solid angle of the
-cube, and since there are eight of these, such cleavage
-gives us an octahedron, which, however, may be reduced to a
-tetrahedron, by rejecting all parallel faces, as being mere
-repetitions of the same cleavage; this is the case with
-Fluor Spar: or the cube of the tessular system may be
-cleavable in planes which truncate all the edges of the
-cube; and as these are twelve, we thus obtain the
-dodecahedron with rhombic faces: this occurs in Zinc Blende.
-And thus we see the origin of Haüy's various primitive
-forms, the tetrahedron, octahedron, and rhombic
-dodecahedron, all belonging to the tessular system:--they
-are, in fact, different cleavage forms of that system.
-
-5. I do not dwell upon other incidents of crystals which
-have reference to form, nor upon the lustre, smoothness, and
-striation of the surfaces. To all such incidents the general
-principle applies, that similar parts are similarly
-affected; and hence, if any parts are found to be constantly
-and definitely different from other parts of the same sort,
-they are not similar parts; and the symmetry is to be
-interpreted with reference to this difference.
-
-We have now to consider the inferences which have been drawn
-from these incidents of crystallization, with regard to the
-intimate structure of bodies.
-
-
-
-{{80}}
-CHAPTER III.
-
-SPECULATIONS FOUNDED UPON THE SYMMETRY OF CRYSTALS.
-
-
-1. WHEN a crystal, as, for instance, a crystal of Galena,
-(sulphuret of lead,) is readily divisible into smaller
-cubes, and these into smaller ones, and so on without limit,
-it is very natural to represent to ourselves the original
-cube as really consisting of small cubical elements; and to
-imagine that it is a philosophical account of the physical
-structure of such a substance to say that it is made up of
-cubical molecules. And when the Galena crystal has
-externally the form of a cube, there is no difficulty in
-such a conception; for the surface of the crystal is also
-conceived as made up of the surfaces of its cubical
-molecules. We conceive the crystal so constituted, as we
-conceive a wall built of bricks.
-
-But if, as often happens, the Galena crystal be an
-octahedron, a further consideration is requisite in order to
-understand its structure, pursuing still the same
-hypothesis. The mineral is still, as in the other case,
-readily cleavable into small cubes, having their corners
-turned to the faces of the octahedron. Therefore these faces
-can no longer be conceived as made up of the faces of
-cubical elements of which the whole is constituted. If we
-suppose a pile of such small cubes to be closely built
-together, but with decreasing width above, so as to form a
-pyramid, the face of such a pyramid will no longer be plane;
-it will consist of a great number of the corners or edges of
-the small elementary cubes. It would appear at first sight,
-therefore, that such a face cannot represent the smooth
-polished surface of a crystal. {81}
-
-But when we come to look more closely, this difficulty
-disappears. For how large are these elementary cubes? We
-cannot tell, even supposing they really have any size. But
-we know that they must be, at any rate, very small; so small
-as to be inappreciable by our senses, for our senses find no
-limit to the divisibility of minerals by cleavage. Hence the
-surface of the pyramid above described would not consist of
-visible corners or edges, but would be roughened by specks
-of imperceptible size; or rather, by supposing these specks
-to become still smaller, the roughness becomes smoothness.
-And thus we may have a crystal with a smooth surface, made
-up of small cubes in such a manner that their surfaces are
-all oblique to the surface of the crystal.
-
-Haüy, struck by some instances in which the supposition of
-such a structure of crystals appeared to account happily for
-several of their relations and properties, adopted and
-propounded it as a general theory. The small elements, of
-which he supposed crystals to be thus built up, he termed
-_integrant molecules_. The form of these molecules might or
-might not be the same as the _primitive form_ with which his
-construction was supposed to begin; but there was, at any
-rate, a close connexion between these forms, since both of
-them were founded on the cleavage of the mineral. The tenet
-that crystals are constituted in the manner which I have
-been describing, I shall call the _Theory of Integrant
-Molecules_, and I have now to make some remarks on the
-grounds of this theory.
-
-2. In the case of which I have spoken, the mineral used as
-the example, Galena, readily splits into cubes, and cubes
-are easily placed together so as to fit each other, and fill
-the space which they occupy. The same is the case in the
-mineral which suggested to Haüy his theory, namely, Calc
-Spar. The crystals of this substance are readily divisible
-into rhombohedrons, a form like a brick with oblique angles;
-and such bricks can be built together so as to produce
-crystals of all the immense varieties of form which Calc
-Spar presents. This kind of masonry is equally possible in
-many other {82} minerals; but as we go through the mineral
-kingdom in our survey, we soon find cases which offer
-difficulties. Some minerals cleave only in two directions,
-some in one only; in such cases we cannot by cleavage obtain
-an integrant molecule of definite form; one of its
-dimensions, at least, must remain indeterminate and
-arbitrary. Again, in some instances, we have more than three
-different planes of cleavage, as in Fluor Spar, where we
-have four. The solid, bounded by four planes, is a
-tetrahedron; or if we take four _pairs_ of parallel faces,
-an octahedron. But if we attempt to take either of these
-forms for our integrant molecule, we are met by this
-difficulty: that a collection of such forms will not fill
-space. Perhaps this difficulty will be more readily
-conceived by the general reader if it be contemplated with
-reference to plane figures. It will readily be seen that a
-number of equal squares may be put together so as to fill
-the space which they occupy; but if we take a number of
-equal regular octagons, we may easily convince ourselves
-that no possible arrangement can make them cover a flat
-space without leaving blank spots between. In like manner
-octahedrons or tetrahedrons cannot be arranged in solid
-space so as to fill it. They necessarily leave vacancies.
-Hence the structure of Fluor Spar, and similar crystals, was
-a serious obstacle in the way of the theory of integrant
-molecules. That theory had been adopted in the first
-instance because portions of the crystal, obtained by
-cleavage, could be built up into a solid mass; but this
-ground of the theory failed altogether in such instances as
-I have described, and hence the theory, even upon the
-representations of its adherents, had no longer any claim to
-assent.
-
-The doctrine of Integral Molecules, however, was by no means
-given up at once, even in such instances. In this and in
-other subjects, we may observe that a theory, once
-constructed and carried into detail, has such a hold upon
-the minds of those who have been in the habit of applying
-it, that they will attempt to uphold it by introducing
-suppositions inconsistent with {83} the original foundations
-of the theory. Thus those who assert the Atomic Theory,
-reconcile it with facts by taking the _halves of atoms_; and
-thus the Theory of Integrant Molecules was maintained for
-Fluor Spar, by representing the elementary octahedrons of
-which crystals are built up, as touching each other only by
-the _edges_. The contact of surface with surface amongst
-integrant molecules had been the first basis of the theory;
-but this supposition being here inapplicable, was replaced
-by one which made the theory no longer a representation of
-the facts (the cleavages), but a mere geometrical
-construction. Although, however, the inapplicability of the
-theory to such cases was thus, in some degree, disguised to
-the disciples of Haüy, it was plain that, in the face of
-such difficulties, the Theory of Integrant Molecules could
-not hold its place as a philosophical truth. But it still
-answered the purpose (a very valuable one, and one to which
-crystallography is much indebted,) of an instrument for
-calculating the geometrical relations of the parts of
-crystals to each other: for the integrant molecules were
-supposed to be placed layer above layer, each layer as we
-ascend, _decreasing_ by a certain number of molecules and
-rows of molecules; and the calculation of these _laws of
-decrement_ was, in fact, the best mode then known of
-determining the positions of the faces. The Theory of
-Decrements served to express and to determine, in a great
-number of the most obvious cases, _the laws of phenomena_ in
-crystalline forms, though the Theory of Integrant Molecules
-could not be maintained as a just view of the structure of
-crystals.
-
-3. The Theory of Integrant Molecules, however, involved this
-just and important principle: that a true view of the
-intimate structure of crystals must include and explain the
-facts of crystallization, that is, crystalline form and
-cleavage; and that it must take these into account,
-according to their degree of _Symmetry_. So far all theories
-concerning the elements of crystals must agree. And it was
-soon seen that this was, in reality, all that had been
-established by the investigations of Haüy and his school. I
-have already, in the {84} _History_, quoted Weiss's
-reflections on making this step. 'When in 1809,' he
-says[5\7], 'I published my Dissertation, I shared the common
-opinion as to the necessity of the assumption, and the
-reality of the existence of a primitive form, at least in a
-sense not very different from the usual sense of the
-expression.' He then proceeds to relate that he sought a
-ground for such an opinion, independent of the doctrine of
-_Atoms_, which he, in common with a great number of
-philosophers of that time in his own country, was disposed
-to reject, inclining to believe that the properties of
-bodies were determined by _Forces_ which acted in them, and
-not by _Molecules_ of which they were composed. He adds,
-that in pursuing this train of thought, he found, 'that out
-of his Primitive Forms there was gradually unfolded to his
-hands that which really governs them, and is not affected by
-their casual fluctuations; namely, the Fundamental Relations
-of their Dimensions,' or as we now may call them, _Axes of
-Symmetry_. With reference to these Axes, he found, as he
-goes on to say, that 'a multiplicity of internal
-Oppositions, necessarily and mutually interdependent, are
-developed in the crystalline mass, each Relation having its
-own Polarity; so that the Crystalline Character is
-co-extensive with these Polarities.' The character of these
-polarities, whether manifested in crystalline faces,
-cleavage, or any other incidents of crystallization, is
-necessarily displayed in the degree and kind of Symmetry
-which the crystal possesses: and thus this Symmetry, in all
-our speculations concerning the structure of crystals,
-necessarily takes the place of that enumeration of Primitive
-Forms which were rejected as inconsistent with observed
-facts, and destitute of sound scientific principle.
-
-[Note 5\7: _Acad. Berlin._ 1816, p. 307.]
-
-I may just notice here what I have stated in the History of
-Mineralogy[6\7], that the distinction of systems of
-crystallization, as introduced by Weiss and Mohs, was
-strikingly confirmed by Sir David Brewster's discoveries
-respecting the optical properties of minerals. {85} The
-splendid phenomena which were produced by passing polarized
-light through crystals, were found to vary according as the
-crystals were of the Rhombohedral, Square Pyramidal, Oblong
-Prismatic, or Tessular System. The Optical Symmetry exactly
-corresponded with the Geometrical Symmetry. In the two
-former Systems were crystals _uniaxal_ in respect of their
-optical properties; the oblong prismatic, was _biaxal_;
-while in the tessular, the want of a predominant axis
-prevented the phenomena here spoken of from occurring at
-all. The optical experiments must have led, and would have
-led, to a classification of crystals into the above systems
-or something nearly equivalent, even had they not been
-already so arranged by attention to their forms.
-
-[Note 6\7: _Hist. Ind. Sc._ b. xv. c. v.]
-
-4. While in Germany Weiss and Mohs with their disciples,
-were gradually rejecting what was superfluous in the
-previous crystallographical hypotheses, philosophers in
-England were also trying to represent to themselves the
-constitution of crystals in a manner which should be free
-from the obviously arbitrary and untenable fictions of the
-Haüyian school. These attempts, however, were not crowned
-with much success. One mode of representing the structure of
-crystals which suggested itself, was to reject the
-polyhedral forms which Haüy gave to his integrant molecules,
-and to conceive the elements of crystals as _spheres_, the
-properties of the crystal being determined not by the
-_surfaces_, but by the _position_ of the elements. This was
-done by Wollaston, in the _Philosophical Transactions_ for
-1813. He applied this view to the tessular system, in which,
-indeed, the application is not difficult; and he showed that
-octahedral and tetrahedral figures may be deduced from
-symmetrical arrangements of equal spherules. But though in
-doing this, he manifested a perception of the conditions of
-the problem, he appeared to lose his hold on the real
-question when he tried to pass on to other systems of
-crystallization. For he accounted for the rhombohedral
-system by supposing the spheres changed into _spheroids_.
-Such a procedure involved him in a gratuitous and useless
-hypothesis: for to what purpose do we introduce the {86}
-arrangement of atoms (instead of their figure,) as a mode of
-explaining the symmetry of the crystallization, when at the
-next step we ascribe to the atom, by an arbitrary fiction, a
-symmetry of figure of the same kind as that which we have to
-explain? It is just as easy, and as allowable, to assume an
-elementary rhombohedron, as to assume elementary spheroids,
-of which the rhombohedrons are constructed.
-
-5. Many hypotheses of the same kind might be adduced,
-devised both by mineralogists and chemists. But almost all
-such speculations have been pursued with a most surprising
-neglect of the principle which obviously is the only sound
-basis on which they can proceed. The principle is
-this:--that _All hypotheses concerning the arrangement of
-the elementary atoms of bodies in space must be constructed
-with reference to the general facts of crystallization_. The
-truth and importance of this principle can admit of no
-doubt. For if we make any hypothesis concerning the mode of
-connexion of the elementary particles of bodies, this must
-be done with the view of representing to ourselves the
-forces which connect them, and the results of these forces
-as manifested in the properties of the bodies. Now the
-forces which connect the particles of bodies so as to make
-them crystalline, are manifestly chemical forces. It is only
-definite chemical compounds which crystallize; and in
-crystals the force of cohesion by which the particles are
-held together cannot in any way be distinguished or
-separated from the chemical force by which their elements
-are combined. The elements are understood to be combined,
-precisely because the result is a definite, apparently
-homogeneous substance. The properties of the compound bodies
-depend upon the elements and their mode of combination; for,
-in fact, these include everything on which they can depend.
-There are no other circumstances than these which can affect
-the properties of a body. Therefore all those properties
-which have reference to space, namely, the crystalline
-properties, cannot depend upon anything else than the
-arrangement of the elementary molecules in space. These {87}
-properties are the facts which any hypothesis of the
-arrangement of molecules must explain, or at least render
-conceivable; and all such hypotheses, all constructions of
-bodies by supposed arrangements of molecules, can have no
-other philosophical object than to account for facts of this
-kind. If they do not do this, they are mere arbitrary
-geometrical fictions, which cannot be in any degree
-confirmed or authorised by an examination of nature, and are
-therefore not deserving of any regard.
-
-6. Those philosophers who have endeavoured to represent the
-mode in which bodies are constructed by the combination of
-their chemical atoms, have often undertaken to show, not
-only that the atoms are combined, but also in what positions
-and configurations they are combined. And it is truly
-remarkable, as I have already said, that they have done
-this, almost in every instance, without any consideration of
-the crystalline character of the resulting combinations;
-from which alone we receive any light as to the relation of
-their elements in space. Thus Dr. Dalton, in his _Elements
-of Chemistry_, in which he gave to the world the Atomic
-Theory as a representation of the doctrine of definite and
-multiple proportions, also published a large collection of
-Diagrams, exhibiting what he conceived to be the
-configuration of the atoms in a great number of the most
-common combinations of chemical elements. Now these
-hypothetical diagrams do not in any way correspond, as to
-the nature of their symmetry, with the compounds, as we find
-them displaying their symmetry when they occur crystallized.
-Carbonate of lime has in reality a triangular symmetry,
-since it belongs to the rhombohedral system; Dr. Dalton's
-carbonate of lime would be an oblique rhombic prism or
-pyramid. Sulphate of baryta is really two-and-two membered;
-Dr. Dalton's diagram makes it two-and-one membered. Alum is
-really octahedral or tessular; but according to the diagram
-it could not be so, since the two ends of the atom are not
-symmetrical. And the same want of correspondence between the
-facts and the hypothesis runs through the whole {88} system.
-It need not surprise us that the theoretical arrangement of
-atoms does not explain the facts of _crystallization_; for
-to produce such an explanation would be a second step in
-science quite as great as the first, the discovery of the
-atomic theory in its _chemical_ sense. But we may allow
-ourselves to be surprised that an utter discrepance between
-all the facts of crystallization and the figures assumed in
-the theory, did not suggest any doubt as to the soundness of
-the mode of philosophizing by which this part of the theory
-was constructed.
-
-7. Some little accordance between the hypothetical
-arrangements of chemical atoms and the facts of
-crystallization, does appear to have been arrived at by some
-of the theorists to whom we here refer, although by no means
-enough to show a due conviction of the importance of the
-principle stated above. Thus Wollaston, in the Essay above
-noticed, after showing that a symmetrical arrangement of
-equal spherules would give rise to octahedral and other
-tessular figures, remarks, very properly, that the metals,
-which are simple bodies, crystallize in such forms. M.
-Ampère[7\7] also, in 1814, published a brief account of an
-hypothesis of a somewhat similar nature, and stated himself
-to have developed this speculation in a Memoir which has not
-yet, so far as I am aware, been published. In this notice he
-conceives bodies to be compounded of _molecules_, which,
-arranged in a polyhedral form, constitute _particles_. These
-_representative forms_ of the particles depend on chemical
-laws. Thus the particles of oxygen, of hydrogen, and of
-azote, are composed each of four molecules. Hence it is
-collected that the particles of nitrous gas are composed of
-two molecules of oxygen and two of azote; and similar
-conclusions are drawn respecting other substances. These
-conclusions, though expressed by means of the polyhedrons
-thus introduced, are supported by chemical, rather than by
-crystallographical comparisons. The author does, indeed,
-appeal to the crystallization of sal {89} ammoniac as an
-argument[8\7]; but as _all_ the forms which he introduces
-appear to belong to the _tessular_ system of
-crystallization, there is, in his reasonings, nothing
-distinctive; and therefore nothing, crystallographically
-speaking, of any weight on the side of this theory.
-
-[Note 7\7: _Ann. de Chimie_, tom. xc. p. 43.]
-
-[Note 8\7: _Ann. de Chimie_, tom. xc. p. 83.]
-
-8. Any hypothesis which should introduce any principle of
-chemical order among the actual forms of minerals, would
-well deserve attention. At first sight, nothing can appear
-more anomalous than the forms which occur. We have, indeed,
-one broad fact, which has an encouraging aspect, the
-tessular forms in which the pure metals crystallize. The
-highest degree of chemical and of geometrical simplicity
-coincide: irregularity disappears precisely where it is
-excluded by the consideration above stated, that the
-symmetry of chemical composition must determine the symmetry
-of crystalline form[9\7].
-
-[Note 9\7: Inasmuch as this law, that the simple metals
-crystallize in tessular forms, is the most signal example of
-that connexion between the chemical nature of a body and its
-crystalline form, I in the former Edition stated it with as
-much generality as I could find any ground for, and I should
-have been glad if I could have added confirmation of the
-law, derived from later observations. But the most recent
-investigations of crystallographers appear to have afforded
-exceptions rather than examples of the rule. Arsenic and
-Tellurium are said to be _rhombohedral_. Antimony, stated by
-Haüy to be octahedral (and therefore tessular), has been
-found by more modern observers to be _rhombohedral_. Tin has
-been obtained by Professor Miller in beautiful crystals
-belonging to the _pyramidal_ system. Professor Nöggerath has
-observed in Zinc, after cooling from fusion, hexagonal
-cleavage, rendering it probable that the mineral
-crystallized in _rhombohedrons_ having their axes vertical,
-like ice. G. Rose conceives it highly probable that Osmium
-and Iridium are _rhombohedral_. (Poggendorf. Bd. liv.)
-
-But all the more perfect metals are tessular; namely, Gold,
-Silver, Mercury, Platinum, Iron, Copper; also Bismuth [?]
-Perhaps the observation in which the crystallization of Zinc
-is affected by its position is, on that very account, no
-sufficient evidence of its free crystallization. We can
-hardly conceive a collection of perfectly simple, similar
-particles to crystallize so as to have one pre-eminent axis,
-without some extraneous action affecting them.]
-
-But if we go on to any other class of crystalline forms, we
-soon find ourselves lost in our attempts to {90} follow any
-thread of order. We have indeed many large groups connected
-by obvious analogies; as the rhombohedral carbonates of
-lime, magnesia, iron, manganese;--the prismatic carbonates
-and sulphates of lime, baryta, strontia, lead. But even in
-these, we cannot form any plausible hypothesis of the
-arrangement of the elements; and in other cases to which we
-naturally turn, we can find nothing but confusion. For
-instance, if we examine the oxides of metals:--those of iron
-are rhombohedral and tessular; those of copper, tessular;
-those of tin, of titanium, of manganese, square pyramidal;
-those of antimony, prismatic; and we have other forms for
-other substances.
-
-It may be added, that if we take account of the optical
-properties which, as we have already stated, have constant
-relations to the crystalline forms, the confusion is still
-further increased; for the optical dimensions vary in
-amount, though not in symmetry, where chemistry can trace no
-difference of composition.
-
-9. We will not quit the subject, however, without noticing
-the much more promising aspect which it has assumed by the
-detection of such groups as are referred to in the last
-article; or in other words, by Mitscherlich's discovery of
-_Isomorphism_. According to that discovery, there are
-various elements which may take the place of each other in
-crystalline bodies, either without any alteration of the
-crystalline form, or at most with only a slight alteration
-of its dimensions. Such a group of elements we have in the
-earths lime and magnesia, the protoxides of iron and
-manganese: for the carbonates of all these bases occur
-crystallized in forms of the rhombohedral system, the
-characteristic angle being nearly the same in all. Now lime
-and magnesia, by the discoveries of modern chemistry, are
-really oxides of metals; and therefore all these carbonates
-have a similar chemical constitution, while they have also a
-similar crystalline form. Whether or no we can devise any
-arrangement of molecules by which this connexion of the
-chemical and the geometrical property can be represented, we
-cannot help {91} considering the connexion as an extremely
-important fact in the constitution of bodies; and such facts
-are more likely than any other to give us some intelligible
-view of the relations of the ultimate parts of bodies. The
-same may be said of all the other isomorphous or
-plesiomorphous groups[10\7]. For instance, we have a number
-of minerals which belong to the same system of
-crystallization, but in which the chemical composition
-appears at first sight to be very various: namely, spinelle,
-pleonaste, gahnite, franklinite, chromic iron oxide,
-magnetic iron oxide: but Abich has shown that all these may
-be reduced to a common chemical formula;--they are bioxides
-of one set of bases, combined with trioxides of another set.
-Perhaps some mathematician may be able to devise some
-geometrical arrangement of such a group of elements which
-may possess the properties of the tessular system.
-Hypothetical arrangements of atoms, thus expressing both the
-chemical and the crystalline symmetry which we know to
-belong to the substance, would be valuable steps in
-analytical science; and when they had been duly verified,
-the hypotheses might easily be divested of their atomic
-character.
-
-[Note 10\7: See _Hist. Ind. Sc._ b. xv. c. vi.]
-
-Thus, as we have already said, mineralogy, understood in its
-wider sense, as the counterpart of chemistry, has for one of
-its main objects to discover those Relations of the Elements
-of bodies which have reference to Space. In this research,
-the foundation of all sound speculation is the kind and
-degree of Symmetry of form which we find in definite
-chemical compounds: and the problem at present before the
-inquirer is, to devise such arrangements of molecules as
-shall answer the conditions alike of Chemistry and of
-Crystallography.
-
-We now proceed to the Classificatory Sciences, of which
-Mineralogy is one, though hitherto by far the least
-successful.
-
-
-
-{{93}}
-BOOK VIII.
-
-
-THE
-PHILOSOPHY
-OF THE
-CLASSIFICATORY SCIENCES.
-
-
-
-
-WHERE a certain apparent difference between things (although
-perhaps in itself of little moment) answers to we know not
-what number of other differences, pervading not only their
-known properties but properties yet undiscovered, it is not
-optional but imperative to recognise this difference as the
-foundation of a specific distinction.
-
-JOHN S. MILL, _System of Logic_, b. 1, ch. vii. § 4.
-
-
-
-{{95}}
-BOOK VIII.
-
-
-THE PHILOSOPHY OF THE CLASSIFICATORY SCIENCES.
-
-
-CHAPTER I.
-
-THE IDEA OF LIKENESS AS GOVERNING THE USE OF COMMON NAMES.
-
-
-1. _Object of the Chapter._--NOT only the Classificatory
-Sciences, but the application of names to things in the
-rudest and most unscientific manner, depends upon our
-apprehending them as _like_ each other. We must therefore
-endeavour to trace the influence and operation of the Idea
-of Likeness in the common use of language, before we speak
-of the conditions under which it acquires its utmost
-exactness and efficacy.
-
-It will be my object to show in this, as in previous cases,
-that the impressions of sense are apprehended by acts of the
-mind; and that these mental acts necessarily imply certain
-relations which may be made the subjects of speculative
-reasoning. We shall have, if we can, to seize and bring into
-clear view the principles which the relation of _like_ and
-_unlike_ involves, and the mode in which these principles
-have been developed.
-
-2. _Unity of the Individual._--But before we can attend to
-several things as like or unlike, we must be able to
-apprehend each of these by itself as _one thing_. {96} It
-may at first sight perhaps appear that this apprehension
-results immediately from the impressions on our senses,
-without any act of our thoughts. A very little attention,
-however, enables us to see that thus to single out special
-objects requires a mental operation as well as a sensation.
-How, for example, without an exertion of mental activity,
-can we see one tree, in a forest where there are many? We
-have, spread before us, a collection of colours and forms,
-green and brown, dark and light, irregular and straight:
-this is all that sensation gives or can give. But we
-associate one brown trunk with one portion of the green
-mass, excluding the rest, although the neighbouring leaves
-are both nearer in contiguity and more similar in appearance
-than is the stem. We thus have before us one tree; but this
-unity is given by the mind itself. We see the green and the
-brown, but we must _make_ the tree before we can see _it_.
-
-That this composition of our sensations so as to form _one
-thing_ implies an act of our own, will perhaps be more
-readily allowed, if we once more turn our attention to the
-manner in which we sometimes attempt to imitate and record
-the objects of sight, by drawing. When we do this, as we
-have already observed, we mark this unity of each object, by
-drawing a line to separate the parts which we include from
-those which we exclude;--an _Outline_. This line corresponds
-to nothing which we see; the beginner in drawing has great
-difficulty in discerning it; he has in fact to make it. It
-is, as has been said by a painter of our own time[1\8], a
-fiction: but it is a fiction employed to mark a real act of
-the mind; to designate the singleness of the object in our
-conception. As we have said elsewhere, we see lines, but
-especially outlines, by mentally drawing them ourselves.
-
-[Note 1\8: Phillips _On Painting_,--Design.]
-
-The same act of conception which the outline thus represents
-and commemorates in visible objects,--the same combination
-of sensible impressions into a unit,--is exercised also with
-regard to the objects of all {97} our senses: and the
-singleness thus given to each object, is a necessary
-preliminary to its being named or represented in any other
-way.
-
-But it may be said, Is it then by an arbitrary act of our
-own that we put together the branches of the same tree, or
-the limbs of the same animal? Have we equally the power and
-the right to make the branch of the fir a part of the
-neighbouring oak? Can we include in the outline of a man any
-object with which he happens to be in contact?
-
-Such suppositions are manifestly absurd. And the answer is,
-that though we give unity to objects by an act of thought,
-it is not by an _arbitrary_ act; but by a process subject to
-certain conditions;--to conditions which exclude such
-incongruous combinations as have just been spoken of.
-
-What are these conditions which regulate our apprehension of
-an object as one?--which determine what portion of our
-impressions does, and what portion does not belong to the
-same thing?
-
-3. _Condition of Unity._--I reply, that the primary and
-fundamental condition is, that we must be able to make
-intelligible assertions respecting the object, and to
-entertain that belief of which assertions are the
-exposition. A tree _grows_, _sheds_ its leaves in autumn,
-and _buds_ again in the spring, _waves_ in the wind, or
-_falls_ before the storm. And to the tree belong all those
-parts which must be included in order that such
-declarations, and the thought which they convey, shall have
-a coherent and permanent meaning. Those are _its_ branches
-which wave and fall with _its_ trunk; those are _its_ leaves
-which grow on _its_ branches. The permanent connexions which
-we observe,--permanent, among unconnected changes which
-affect the surrounding appearances,--are what we bind
-together as belonging to one object. This permanence is the
-condition of our conceiving the object _as_ one. The
-connected changes may always be described by means of
-assertions; and the connexion is seen in the identity of the
-subject of successive predications; in the possibility of
-applying many verbs to one substantive. We may {98}
-therefore express the condition of the unity of an object to
-be this: that _assertions concerning the object shall be
-possible_: or rather we should say, that the acts of belief
-which such assertions enunciate shall be possible.
-
-It may seem to be superfluous to put in a form so abstract
-and remote, the grounds of a process apparently so simple as
-our conceiving an object to be one. But the same condition
-to which we have thus been led, as the essential principle
-of the unity of objects, namely, that propositions shall be
-possible, will repeatedly occur in the present chapter; and
-it may serve to illustrate our views, to show that this
-condition pervades even the simplest cases.
-
-4. _Kinds._--The mental synthesis of which we have thus
-spoken, gives us our knowledge of _individual_ things; it
-enables me to apprehend that particular tree or man which I
-now see, or, by the help of memory, the tree or the man I
-saw yesterday. But the knowledge with which we have mainly
-here to do is not a knowledge of individuals but of kinds;
-of such classes as are indicated by common names. We have to
-make assertions concerning a tree or a man in general,
-without regarding what is peculiar to this man or that tree.
-
-Now it is clear that certain individual objects are all
-called _man_, or all called _tree_, in virtue of some
-resemblance which they have. If we had not the power of
-perceiving in the appearances around us, likeness and
-unlikeness, we could not consider objects as distributed
-into kinds at all. The impressions of sense would throng
-upon us, but being uncompared with each other, they would
-flow away like the waves of the sea, and each vanish from
-our contemplation when the sensation faded. That we do
-apprehend surrounding objects as belonging to permanent
-kinds, as being men and horses, oaks and roses, arises from
-our having the idea of likeness, and from our applying it
-habitually, and so far as such a classification requires.
-
-Not only can we employ the idea of likeness in this manner,
-but we apply it incessantly and universally to {99} the
-whole mass and train of our sensations. For we have no
-external sensations to which we cannot apply some language
-or other; and all language necessarily implies recognition
-of resemblances. We cannot call an object _green_ or _round_
-without comparing in our thoughts its colour or its shape,
-with a shape and a colour seen in other objects. All our
-sensations, therefore, without any exception of kind or
-time, are subject to this constant process of
-classification; and the idea of likeness is perpetually
-operating to distribute them into kinds, at least so far as
-the use of language requires.
-
-We come then again to the question, Upon what principle,
-under what conditions, is the Idea of Likeness thus
-operative? What are the limits of the classes thus formed?
-Where does that similarity end, which induces and entitles
-us to call a thing a _tree_? What universal rule is there
-for the application of common names, so that we may not
-apply them wrongly?
-
-5. _Not made by Definitions._--Perhaps some one might expect
-in answer to these inquiries a definition or a series of
-definitions;--might imagine that some description of a tree
-might be given which might show when the term was applicable
-and when it was not; and that we might construct a body of
-rules to which such descriptions must conform. But on
-consideration it will be clear that the real solution of our
-difficulty cannot be obtained in such a manner. For _first_;
-such descriptions must be given in words, and must therefore
-suppose that we have already satisfied ourselves how words
-are to be used. If we define a tree to be 'a living thing
-without the power of voluntary motion,' we shall be called
-upon to define 'a living thing;' and it is manifest that
-this renewal of the demand for definition might be repeated
-indefinitely; and, therefore, we cannot in this way come to
-a final principle. And in the _next_ place, most of those
-who use language, even with great precision and consistency,
-would find it difficult or impossible to give good
-definitions even of a few of the general names which they
-use; and therefore their practice cannot be regulated by any
-{100} tacit reference to such definitions. That definitions
-of terms are of great use and importance in their right
-place, we shall soon see; but their place is not to regulate
-the use of common language.
-
-What then, once more, is this regulative principle? What
-rules do men follow in the use of words, so as commonly to
-avoid confusion and ambiguity? How do they come to
-understand each other so well as they ordinarily do,
-respecting the limits of classes never defined, and which
-they cannot define? What is the common Convention, or
-Condition to which they conform?
-
-6. _Condition of the Use of Terms._--To this we reply, that
-the Condition which regulates the use of language, is, that
-it shall be capable of being used;--that is, that general
-assertions shall be possible. The term _tree_ is applicable
-as far as it is useful in expressing our knowledge
-concerning trees:--thus we know that trees are fixed in the
-ground, have a solid stem, branches, leaves, and many other
-properties. With regard to all the objects which surround
-us, we have an immense store of knowledge of such
-properties, and we employ the names of the objects in such a
-manner as enables us to express these properties.
-
-But the connexion of such properties is variable and
-indefinite. Some properties are constantly combined, others
-occasionally only. The leaves of different oaks resemble
-each other, the branches resemble far less, and may differ
-very widely. The term _oak_ does not enable us to say that all
-oaks have straight branches or all crooked. Terms can only
-express properties as far as they are constant. Not only,
-therefore, the accumulation of a vast mass of knowledge of
-the properties and attributes of objects, but also an
-observation of the habitual _connexion_ of such properties
-is needed, to direct us to the consistent application of
-terms:--to enable us to apply them so as to express truths.
-But here again we are largely provided with the requisite
-knowledge and observation by the common course of our
-existence. The unintermitting stream of experience supplies
-us with an incalculable {101} amount of such observed
-connexions. All men have observed that the associations of
-the same form of leaves are more constant than of the same
-form of branches;--that though persons walk in different
-attitudes, none go on all fours; and thus the term _oak_ is
-so applied as to include those cases in which the leaves are
-alike in form though the branches be unlike; and though we
-should refuse to apply the term _man_ to a class of
-creatures which habitually and without compulsion used four
-legs, we make no scruple of affixing it to persons of very
-different figures. The whole of human experience being
-composed of such observed connexions, we have thus materials
-even for the immense multiplicity of names which human
-language contains; all which names are, as we have said,
-regulated in their application by the condition of their
-expressing such experience.
-
-Thus amid the countless combinations of properties and
-divisions of classes which the structure of language
-implies, scarcely any are arbitrary or capricious. A word
-which expressed a mere wanton collection of unconnected
-attributes could hardly be called a _word_; for of such a
-collection of properties no truth could be asserted, and the
-word would disappear, for want of some occasion on which it
-could be used. Though much of the fabric of language
-appears, not unnaturally, fantastical and purely
-conventional, it is in fact otherwise. The associations and
-distinctions of phraseology are not more fanciful than is
-requisite to make them correspond to the apparent caprices
-of nature or of thought; and though much in language may be
-called conventional, the conventions exist for the sake of
-expressing some truth or opinion, and not for their own
-sake. The principle, that _the condition of the use of terms
-is the possibility of general, intelligible, consistent
-assertions_, is true in the most complete and extensive sense.
-
-7. _Terms may have different Uses._--The Terms with which we
-are here most concerned are Names of Classes of natural
-objects; and when we say that the principle and the limit of
-such Names are their use in expressing propositions
-concerning the classes, it is {102} clear that much will
-depend on the kind of propositions which we mainly have to
-express: and that the same name may have different limits,
-according to the purpose we have in view. For example, is
-the _whale_ properly included in the general term _fish_?
-When men are concerned in catching marine animals, the main
-features of the process are the same however the animals may
-differ; hence whales are classed with fishes, and we speak
-of the _whale-fishery_. But if we look at the analogies of
-organization, we find that, according to these, the whale is
-clearly not a fish, but a _beast_, (confining this term, for
-the sake of distinctness, to suckling beasts or _mammals_).
-In Natural History, therefore, the whale is not included
-among fish. The indefinite and miscellaneous propositions
-which language is employed to enunciate in the course of
-common practical life, are replaced by a more coherent and
-systematic collection of properties, when we come to aim at
-scientific knowledge. But we shall hereafter consider the
-principle of the classifications of Natural History; our
-present subject is the application of the Idea of Likeness
-in common practice and common language.
-
-8. _Gradation of Kinds._--Common names, then, include many
-individuals associated in virtue of resemblances, and of
-permanently connected properties; and such names are
-applicable as far as they serve to express such properties.
-These collections of individuals are termed _Kinds_,
-_Sorts_, _Classes_.
-
-But this association of particulars is capable of degrees.
-As individuals by their resemblances form Kinds, so kinds of
-things, though different, may resemble each other so as to
-be again associated in a higher Class; and there may be
-several successive steps of such classification. _Man_,
-_horse_, _tree_, _stone_, are each a name of a Kind; but
-_animal_ includes the two first and excludes the others;
-_living thing_ is a term which includes _animal_ and _tree_
-but not _stone_; _body_ includes all the four. And such a
-subordination of kinds may be traced very widely in the
-arrangements of language. {103}
-
-The condition of the use of the wider is the same as that of
-the narrower Names of Classes;--they are good as far as they
-serve to express true propositions. In common language,
-though such an order of generality may in a variety of
-instances be easily discerned, it is not systematically and
-extensively referred to; but this subordination and
-graduated comprehensiveness is the essence of the methods
-and nomenclatures of Natural History, as we shall soon have
-to show.
-
-But such subordination is not without its use, even in
-common cases, and when it is expressed in the terms of
-common language. Thus _organized body_ is a term which
-includes plants and animals; _animal_ includes beasts,
-birds, fishes; _beast_ includes horses and dogs; _dogs_,
-again, are greyhounds, spaniels, terriers.
-
-9. _Characters of Kinds._--Now when we have such a Series of
-Names and Classes, we find that we take for granted
-irresistibly that each class has some _Character_ which
-distinguishes it from other classes included in the superior
-division. We ask what kind of beast a dog is; what kind of
-animal a beast is; and we assume that such questions admit
-of answer;--that each kind has some mark or marks by which
-it may be described. And such descriptions may be given: an
-animal is an organized body _having sensation and volition_;
-man is a _reasonable_ animal. Whether or no we assent to the
-exactness of these definitions, we allow the propriety of
-their form. If we maintain these definitions to be wrong, we
-must believe some others to be right, however difficult it
-may be to hit upon them. We entertain a conviction that
-there must be, among things so classed and named, a
-possibility of defining each.
-
-Now what is the foundation of this postulate? What is the
-ground of this assumption, that there must exist a
-definition which we have never seen, and which perhaps no
-one has seen in a satisfactory form? The knowledge of this
-definition is by no means necessary to our using the word
-with propriety; for any one can make true assertions about
-dogs, but who can define a {104} dog? And yet if the
-definition be not necessary to enable us to use the word,
-why is it necessary at all? I allow that we possess an
-indestructible conviction that there must be such a
-character of each kind as will supply a definition; but I
-ask, on what this conviction rests.
-
-I reply, that our persuasion that there must needs be
-characteristic marks by which things can be defined in
-words, is founded on the assumption of _the necessary
-possibility of reasoning_.
-
-The reference of any object or conception to its class
-without definition, may give us a persuasion that it shares
-the properties of its class, but such classing does not
-enable us to reason upon those properties. When we consider
-man as an animal, we ascribe to him in thought the
-appetites, desires, affections, which we habitually include
-in our notion of animal: but except we have expressed these
-in some definition or acknowledged description of the term
-_animal_, we can make no use of the persuasion in
-ratiocination. But if we have described animals as 'being
-impelled to action by appetites and passions,' we can not
-only think, but say, 'man is an animal, and therefore he is
-impelled to act by appetites and passions.' And if we add a
-further definition, that 'man is a reasonable animal,' and
-if it appear that 'reason implies conformity to a rule of
-action,' we can then further infer that man's nature is to
-conform the results of animal appetite and passion to a rule
-of action.
-
-The possibility of pursuing any such train of reasoning as
-this, depends on the definitions, of _animal_ and of _man_,
-which we have introduced; and the possibility of reasoning
-concerning the objects around us being inevitably assumed by
-us from the constitution of our nature, we assume
-consequently the possibility of such definitions as may thus
-form part of our deduction, and the existence of such
-defining characters.
-
-10. _Difficulty of Definitions._--But though men are, on
-such grounds, led to make constant and importunate _demands_
-for definitions of the terms which they employ in their
-speculations, they are, in fact, far {105} from being able
-to carry into complete effect the postulate on which they
-proceed, that they must be able to find definitions which by
-logical consequence shall lead to the truths they seek. The
-postulate overlooks the process by which our classes of
-things are formed and our names applied. This process
-consisting, as we have already said, in observing permanent
-connexions of properties, and in fixing them by the
-attribution of names, is of the nature of the process of
-Induction, of which we shall afterwards have to speak. And
-the postulate is so far true, that this process of induction
-being once performed, its result may usually be expressed by
-means of a few definitions, and may thus lead by a deduction
-to a train of real truths.
-
-But in the subjects where we principally find such a
-subordination of classes as we have spoken of, this process
-of deduction is rarely of much prominence: for example, in
-the branches of natural history. Yet it is in these subjects
-that the existence and importance of these characteristic
-marks, which we have spoken of, principally comes into view.
-In treating of these marks, however, we enter upon methods
-which are technical and scientific, not popular and common.
-And before we make this transition, we have a remark to make
-on the manner in which writers, without reference to physics
-or natural history, have spoken of kinds, their
-subordination, and their marks.
-
-11. '_The Five Words._'--These things,--the Nature and
-Relations of Classes,--were, in fact, the subjects of minute
-and technical treatment by the logicians of the school of
-Aristotle. Porphyry wrote an Introduction to the
-_Categories_ of that philosopher, which is entitled _On the
-Five Words_. The 'Five Words' are _Genus_, _Species_,
-_Difference_, _Property_, _Accident_. Genus and Species are
-superior and inferior classes, and are stated[2\8] to be
-capable of repeated subordination. The 'most {106} general
-Genus' is the widest class; the 'most special Species' the
-narrowest. Between these are intermediate classes, which are
-Genera with regard to those below, and Species with regard
-to those above them. Thus Being is the most general Genus;
-under this is Body; under Body is Living Body; under this
-again Animal; under Animal is Rational Animal, or Man; under
-Man are Socrates and Plato, and other individual men.
-
-[Note 2\8: Porphyr. _Isagog._ c. 23.]
-
-The _Difference_ is that which is added to the genus to make
-the species; thus Rational is the Difference by which the
-genus Animal is made the species Man; the Difference in this
-Technical sense is the 'Specific,' or species-making
-Difference[3\8]. It forms the Definition for the purposes of
-logic, and corresponds to the 'Character' (specific or
-generic) of the Natural Historians. Indeed several of them,
-as, for instance, Linnæus, in his _Philosophia Botanica_,
-always call these Characters the _Difference_, by a
-traditional application of the Peripatetic terms of art.
-
-[Note 3\8: εἰδοποιός.]
-
-Of the other two words, the Property is that which though
-not employed in defining the class, belongs to every part of
-it[4\8]: it is, 'What happens to all the class, to it alone,
-and at all times; as _to be capable of laughing_ is a
-Property of man.'
-
-[Note 4\8: _Isagog._ c. 4]
-
-The Accident is that which may be present and absent without
-the destruction of the subject, as to sleep is an Accident
-(a thing which happens) to man.
-
-I need not dwell further on this system of technicalities.
-The most remarkable points in it are those which I have
-already noticed; the doctrine of the successive
-Subordination of genera, and the fixing attention upon the
-Specific Difference. These doctrines, though invented in
-order to make reasoning more systematic, and at a period
-anterior to the existence of any Classificatory Science,
-have, by a curious contrast with the intentions of their
-founders, been of scarcely {107} any use in sciences of
-_Reasoning_, but have been amply applied and developed in
-the _Natural History_ which arose in later times.
-
-We must now treat of the principles on which this science
-(Natural History) proceeds, and explain what peculiar and
-technical processes it employs in addition to those of
-common thought and common language.
-
-
-
-{{108}}
-CHAPTER II.
-
-THE METHODS OF NATURAL HISTORY, AS REGULATED BY THE IDEA OF
-LIKENESS.
-
-
-SECT. I.--_Natural History in general._
-
-1. _Idea of Likeness in Natural History._--THE various
-branches of Natural History, in so far as they are
-classificatory sciences merely, and do not depend upon
-physiological views, rest upon the same Idea of Likeness
-which is the ground of the application of the names, more or
-less general, of common language. But the nature of science
-requires that, for her purposes, this Idea should be applied
-in a more exact and rigourous manner than in its common and
-popular employment; just as occurs with regard to the other
-Ideas on which science is founded;--for instance, as the
-idea of space gives rise, in popular use, to the relations
-implied in the prepositions and adjectives which refer to
-position and form, and in its scientific development gives
-rise to the more precise relations of geometry.
-
-The way in which the Idea of Likeness has been applied, so
-as to lead to the construction of a science, is best seen in
-Botany: for, in the Classification of Animals, we are
-inevitably guided by a consideration of the _function_ of
-parts; that is, by an idea of _purpose_, and not of likeness
-merely: and in Mineralogy, the attempts at classification on
-the principles of Natural History have been hitherto very
-imperfectly successful. But in Botany we have an example of
-a branch of knowledge in which systematic classification has
-been effected with great beauty and advantage; and in which
-the peculiarities and principles on which such {109}
-classification must depend have been carefully studied. Many
-of the principal botanists, as Linnæus, Adanson, Decandolle,
-have not only practically applied, but have theoretically
-enunciated, what they held to be the sound maxims of
-classificatory science: and have thus enabled us to place
-before the reader with confidence the philosophy of this
-kind of science.
-
-2. _Condition of its Use._--We may begin by remarking that
-the Idea of Likeness, in its systematic employment, is
-governed by the same principle which we have already spoken
-of as regulating the distribution of things into kinds, and
-the assignment of names in unsystematic thought and speech;
-namely, the condition that _general propositions shall be
-possible_. But as in this case the propositions are to be of
-a scientific form and exactness, the likeness must be
-treated with a corresponding precision; and its consequences
-traced by steady and distinct processes. Naturalists must,
-for their purposes, employ the resemblances of objects in a
-technical manner. This technical process may be considered
-as consisting of three steps;--The fixation of the
-resemblances; The use of them in making a classification;
-The means of applying the classification. These three steps
-may be spoken of as the _Terminology_, the _Plan of the
-System_, and the _Scheme of the Characters_.
-
-
-SECT. II.--_Terminology._[5\8]
-
-[Note 5\8: Decandolle and others use the term _Glossology_
-instead of Terminology, to avoid the blemish of a word
-compounded of two parts taken from different languages. The
-convenience of treating the termination _ology_ (and a few
-other parts of compounds) as not restricted to Greek
-combinations, is so great, that I shall venture, in these
-cases, to disregard this philological scruple.]
-
-3. _Terminology_ signifies the collection of _terms_, or
-technical words, which belong to the science. But in fixing
-the meaning of the terms, at least of the descriptive terms,
-we necessarily fix, at the same time, the perceptions and
-notions which the terms are to {110} convey; and thus the
-Terminology of a classificatory science exhibits the
-elements of its substance as well as of its language. A
-large but indispensable part of the study of botany (and of
-mineralogy and zoology also,) consists in the acquisition of
-the peculiar vocabulary of the science.
-
-The meaning of technical terms can be fixed in the first
-instance only by convention, and can be made intelligible
-only by presenting to the senses that which the terms are to
-signify. The knowledge of a colour by its name can only be
-taught through the eye. No description can convey to a
-hearer what we mean by _apple-green_ or _French grey_. It
-might, perhaps, be supposed that, in the first example, the
-term _apple_, referring to so familiar an object,
-sufficiently suggests the colour intended. But it may easily
-be seen that this is not true; for apples are of many
-different hues of green, and it is only by a conventional
-selection that we can appropriate the term to one special
-shade. When this appropriation is once made, the term refers
-to the sensation, and not to the parts of this term; for
-these enter into the compound merely as a help to the
-memory, whether the suggestion be a natural connexion as in
-'apple-green,' or a casual one as in 'French grey.' In order
-to derive due advantage from technical terms of this kind,
-they must be associated _immediately_ with the perception to
-which they belong; and not connected with it through the
-vague usages of common language. The memory must retain the
-sensation; and the technical word must be understood as
-directly as the most familiar word, and more distinctly.
-When we find such terms as _tin-white_ or _pinchbeck-brown_,
-the metallic colour so denoted ought to start up in our
-memory without delay or search.
-
-This, which it is most important to recollect with respect
-to the simpler properties of bodies, as colour and form, is
-no less true with respect to more compound notions. In all
-cases the term is fixed to a peculiar meaning by convention;
-and the student, in order to use the word, must be
-completely familiar with the convention, so that he has no
-need to frame {111} conjectures from the word itself. Such
-conjectures would always be insecure, and often erroneous.
-Thus the term _papilionaceous_, applied to a flower, is
-employed to indicate, not only a resemblance to a butterfly,
-but a resemblance arising from five petals of a certain
-peculiar shape and arrangement; and even if the resemblance
-to a butterfly were much stronger than it is in such cases,
-yet if it were produced in a different way, as, for example,
-by one petal, or two only, instead of a 'standard,' two
-'wings,' and a 'keel' consisting of two parts more or less
-united into one, we should no longer be justified in
-speaking of it as a 'papilionaceous' flower.
-
-The formation of an exact and extensive descriptive language
-for botany has been executed with a degree of skill and
-felicity, which, before it was attained, could hardly have
-been dreamt of as attainable. Every part of a plant has been
-named; and the form of every part, even the most minute, has
-had a large assemblage of descriptive terms appropriated to
-it, by means of which the botanist can convey and receive
-knowledge of form and structure, as exactly as if each
-minute part were presented to him vastly magnified. This
-acquisition was part of the Linnæan Reform, of which we have
-spoken in the _History_. 'Tournefort,' says Decandolle[6\8],
-'appears to have been the first who really perceived the
-utility of fixing the sense of terms in such a way as always
-to employ the same word in the same sense, and always to
-express the same idea by the same word; but it was Linnæus
-who really created and fixed this botanical language, and
-this is his fairest claim to glory, for by this fixation of
-language he has shed clearness and precision over all parts
-of the science.'
-
-[Note 6\8: _Theor. Elem._ p. 327.]
-
-It is not necessary here to give any detailed account of the
-terms of botany. The fundamental ones have been gradually
-introduced, as the parts of plants were more carefully and
-minutely examined. Thus the flower was successively
-distinguished into the _calyx_, {112} the _corolla_, the
-_stamens_, and the _pistils_: the sections of the corolla
-were termed _petals_ by Columna; those of the calyx were
-called _sepals_ by Necker[7\8]. Sometimes terms of greater
-generality were devised; as _perianth_ to include the calyx
-and corolla, whether one or both of these were present[8\8];
-_pericarp_ for the part inclosing the grain, of whatever
-kind it be, fruit, nut, pod, &c. And it may easily be
-imagined that descriptive terms may, by definition and
-combination, become very numerous and distinct. Thus leaves
-may be called _pinnatifid_[9\8], _pinnatipartite_,
-_pinnatisect_, _pinnatilobate_, _palmatifid_,
-_palmatipartite_, &c., and each of these words designates
-different combinations of the modes and extent of the
-divisions of the leaf with the divisions of its outline. In
-some cases arbitrary numerical relations are introduced into
-the definition: thus a leaf is called _bilobate_[10\8] when
-it is divided into two parts by a notch; but if the notch go
-to the middle of its length, it is _bifid_; if it go near
-the base of the leaf, it is _bipartite_; if to the base, it
-is _bisect_. Thus, too, a pod of a cruciferous plant is a
-_silica_[11\8] if it be four times as long as it is broad,
-but if it be shorter than this it is a _silicula_. Such
-terms being established, the form of the very complex leaf
-or frond of a fern is exactly conveyed by the following
-phrase: 'fronds rigid pinnate, pinnæ recurved subunilateral
-pinnatifid, the segments linear undivided or bifid
-spinuloso-serrate[12\8].'
-
-[Note 7\8: Decandolle, 329]
-
-[Note 8\8: For this Erhart and Decandolle use _Perigone_.]
-
-[Note 9\8: Dec. 318.]
-
-[Note 10\8: _Ib._ 493.]
-
-[Note 11\8: _Ib._ 422.]
-
-[Note 12\8: Hooker, _Brit. Flo._ p. 457. _Hymenophyllum
-Wilsoni_, Scottish filmy-fern, abundant in the highlands of
-Scotland and about Killarney.]
-
-Other characters, as well as form, are conveyed with the
-like precision: Colour by means of a classified scale of
-colours, as we have seen in speaking of the Measures of
-Secondary Qualities; to which, however, we must add, that
-the naturalist employs arbitrary names, (such as we have
-already quoted,) and not mere numerical exponents, to
-indicate a certain number of {113} selected colours. This
-was done with most precision by Werner, and his scale of
-colours is still the most usual standard of naturalists.
-Werner also introduced a more exact terminology with regard
-to other characters which are important in mineralogy, as
-lustre, hardness. But Mohs improved upon this step by giving
-a numerical scale of hardness, in which _talc_ is 1,
-_gypsum_ 2, _calc spar_ 3, and so on, as we have already
-explained in the History of Mineralogy. Some properties, as
-specific gravity, by their definition give at once a
-numerical measure; and others, as crystalline form, require
-a very considerable array of mathematical calculation and
-reasoning, to point out their relations and gradations. In
-all cases the features of likeness in the objects must be
-rightly apprehended, in order to their being expressed by a
-distinct terminology. Thus no terms could describe crystals
-for any purpose of natural history, till it was discovered
-that in a class of minerals the proportion of the faces
-might vary, while the angle remained the same. Nor could
-crystals be described so as to distinguish species, till it
-was found that the derived and primitive forms are connected
-by very simple relations of space and number. The discovery
-of the mode in which characters must be apprehended so that
-they may be considered as _fixed_ for a class, is an
-important step in the progress of each branch of Natural
-History; and hence we have had, in the History of Mineralogy
-and Botany, to distinguish as important and eminent persons
-those who made such discoveries, Romé de Lisle and Haüy,
-Cesalpinus and Gesner.
-
-By the continued progress of that knowledge of minerals,
-plants, and other natural objects, in which such persons
-made the most distinct and marked steps, but which has been
-constantly advancing in a more gradual and imperceptible
-manner, the most important and essential features of
-similarity and dissimilarity in such objects have been
-selected, arranged, and fitted with names; and we have thus
-in such departments, systems of Terminology which fix our
-attention upon the resemblances which it is proper to
-consider, and {114} enable us to convey them in words. We
-have now to speak of the mode in which such resemblances
-have been employed in the construction of a Systematic
-Classification.
-
-
-SECT. III. _The Plan of the System._
-
-4. The collection of sound views and maxims by which the
-resemblances of natural objects are applied so as to form a
-scientific classification, is a department of the philosophy
-of natural history which has been termed by some writers (as
-Decandolle), _Taxonomy_, as containing the _Laws_ of the
-_Taxis_ (_arrangement_). By some Germans this has been
-denominated _Systematik_; if we could now form a new
-substantive after the analogy of the words _Logick_,
-_Rhetorick_, and the like, we might call it _Systematick_.
-But though our English writers commonly use the expression
-_Systematical Botany_ for the Botany of Classification, they
-appear to prefer the term _Diataxis_ for the method of
-constructing the classification. The rules of such a branch
-of science are curious and instructive.
-
-In framing a Classification of objects we must attend to
-their resemblances and differences. But here the question
-occurs, to _what_ resemblances and differences? for a
-different selection of the points of resemblance would give
-different results: a plant frequently agrees in leaves with
-one group of plants, in flowers with another. Which set of
-characters are we to take as our guide?
-
-The view already given of the regulative principle of all
-classification, namely, that it must enable us to assert
-true and general propositions, will obviously occur as
-applicable here. The object of a scientific Classification
-is to enable us to enunciate scientific truths: we must
-therefore classify according to those resemblances of
-objects (plants or any others) which bring to light such
-truths.
-
-But this reply to the inquiry, 'On what characters of
-resemblance we are to found our system,' is still too
-general and vague to be satisfactory. It carries us, {115}
-however, as far as this;--that since the truths we are to
-attend to are scientific truths, governed by precise and
-homogeneous relations, we must not found our scientific
-Classification on casual, indefinite, and unconnected
-considerations. We must not, for instance, be satisfied with
-dividing plants, as Dioscorides does, into _aromatic_,
-_esculent_, _medicinal_ and _vinous_; or even with the long
-prevalent distribution into _trees_, _shrubs_, and _herbs_;
-since in these subdivisions there is no consistent
-principle.
-
-5. _Latent Reference to Natural Affinity._--But there may be
-several kinds of truths, all exact and coherent, which may
-be discovered concerning plants or any other natural
-objects; and if this should be the case, our rule leaves us
-still at a loss in what manner our classification is to be
-constructed. And, historically speaking, a much more serious
-inconvenience has been this;--that the task of
-classification of plants was necessarily performed when the
-general laws of their form and nature were very little
-known; or rather, when the existence of such laws was only
-just beginning to be discerned. Even up to the present day,
-the general propositions which botanists are able to assert
-concerning the structure and properties of plants, are
-extremely imperfect and obscure.
-
-We are thus led to this conclusion:--that the Idea of
-Likeness could not be applied so as to give rise to a
-scientific Classification of plants, till considerable
-progress was made in studying the general relations of
-vegetable form and life; and that the selection of the
-resemblances which should be taken into account, must depend
-upon the nature of the relations which were then brought
-into view.
-
-But this amounts to saying that, in the consideration of the
-Classification of vegetables, other Ideas must be called
-into action as well as the Idea of Likeness. The additional
-general views to which the more intimate study of plants
-leads, must depend, like all general truths, upon some
-regulating Idea which gives unity to scattered facts. No
-progress could be made in botanical knowledge without the
-{116} operation of such principles: and such additional
-Ideas must be employed, besides those of mere likeness and
-unlikeness, in order to point out that Classification which
-has a real scientific value.
-
-Accordingly, in the classificatory sciences, Ideas other
-than Likeness do make their appearance. Such Ideas in botany
-have influenced the progress of the science, even before
-they have been clearly brought into view. We have especially
-the Idea of Affinity, which is the basis of all Natural
-Systems of Classification, and which we shall consider in a
-succeeding chapter. The assumption that there _is_ a Natural
-System, an assumption made by all philosophical botanists,
-implies a belief in the existence of Natural Affinity, and
-is carried into effect by means of principles which are
-involved in that Idea. But as the formation of all systems
-of classification must involve, in a great degree, the Idea
-of Resemblance and Difference, I shall first consider the
-effect of that Idea, before I treat specially of Natural
-Affinity.
-
-6. _Natural Classes._--Many attempts were made to classify
-vegetables before the rules which govern a natural system
-were clearly apprehended. Botanists agree in esteeming some
-characters as of more value than others, before they had
-agreed upon any general rules or principles for estimating
-the relative importance of the characters. They were
-convinced of the necessity of adding other considerations to
-that of Resemblance, without seeing clearly what these
-others ought to be. They aimed at a Natural Classification,
-without knowing distinctly in what manner it was to be
-Natural.
-
-The attempts to form _Natural Classes_, therefore, in the
-first part of their history, belong to the Idea of Likeness,
-though obscurely modified, even from an early period, by the
-Ideas of Affinity, and even of Function and of Development.
-Hence Natural Classes may, to a certain extent, be treated
-of in this place.
-
-Natural Classes are opposed to Artificial Classes which are
-understood to be regulated by an _assumed_ {117} character.
-Yet no classes can be so absolutely Artificial in this
-sense, as to be framed upon characters _arbitrarily_
-assumed; for instance, no one would speak of a class of
-shrubs defined by the circumstance of each having a hundred
-leaves: for of such a class no assertion could be made, and
-therefore the class could never come under our notice. In
-what sense then are Artificial Classes to be understood, as
-opposed to Natural?
-
-7. _Artificial Classes._--To this question, the following is
-the answer. When Natural Classes of a certain small extent
-have been formed, a system may be devised which shall be
-regulated by a few selected characters, and which shall not
-dissever these small Natural Classes, but conform to them as
-far as they go. If these selected characters be then made
-absolute and imperative, and if we abandon all attempt to
-obtain Natural Classes of any higher order and wider extent,
-we form an Artificial System.
-
-Thus in the Linnæan System of Botanical Classification, it
-is assumed that certain natural groups, namely, Species and
-Genera, are established; it is conceived, moreover, that the
-division of Classes according to the number of stamens and
-of pistils does not violate the natural connexions of
-Species and Genera. This arrangement, according to the
-number of stamens and pistils, (further modified in certain
-cases by other considerations,) is then made the ground of
-all the higher divisions of plants, and thus we have an
-Artificial System.
-
-It has been objected to this view, that the Linnæan
-Artificial System does not in all cases respect the
-boundaries of genera, but would, if rigorously applied,
-distribute the species of the same genus into different
-artificial classes; it would divide, for instance, the
-genera _Valeriana_, _Geranium_[13\8], &c. To this we must
-reply, that so far as the Linnæan System does this, it is an
-imperfect Artificial System. Its great merit is in its
-making such a disjunction in comparatively so {118} few
-cases; and in the artificial characters being, for the most
-part, obvious and easily applied.
-
-[Note 13\8: Decand. _Theor. Elem._ p. 45.]
-
-8. _Are Genera Natural_?--It has been objected also that
-Genera are not Natural groups. Linnæus asserts in the most
-positive manner that they are[14\8]. On which Adanson
-observes[15\8], 'I know not how any Botanist can maintain
-such a thesis: that which is certain is, that up to the
-present time no one has been able to prove it, nor to give
-an exact definition of a natural genus, but only of an
-artificial.' He then brings several arguments to confirm
-this view.
-
-[Note 14\8: _Phil. Bot._ Art. 165.]
-
-[Note 15\8: _Famille de Ph._ Pref. cv.]
-
-But we are to observe, in answer to this, that Adanson
-improperly confounds the recognition of the existence of a
-natural group with the invention of a technical mark or
-definition of it. Genera are groups of species associated in
-virtue of natural affinity, of general resemblance, of real
-propinquity: of such groups, certain selected characters,
-one or few, may usually be discovered, by which the species
-may be referred to their groups. These Artificial characters
-do not constitute, but indicate the genus: they are the
-_Diagnosis_, not the basis of the _Diataxis_: and they are
-always subject to be rejected, and to have others
-substituted for them, when they violate the natural
-connexion of species which a minute and enlarged study
-discovers.
-
-It is, therefore, no proof that Genera are not Natural, to
-say that their artificial characters are different in
-different systems. Such characters are only different
-attempts to confine the variety of nature within the limits
-of definition. Nor is it sufficient to say that these groups
-themselves are different in different writers; that some
-botanists make genera what others make only species; as
-_Pedicularis_, _Rhinanthus_, _Euphrasia_,
-_Antirrhinum_[16\8]. This discrepancy shows only that the
-natural arrangement is not yet completely known, even in the
-smaller groups; a conclusion to which we need not refuse our
-assent. But in {119} opposition to these negatives, the
-manner in which Genera have been established proves that
-they are regulated by the principle of being natural, and by
-that alone. For they are not formed according to any _à
-priori_ rule. The Botanist does not take any selected or
-arbitrary part or parts of the plants, and marshal his
-genera according to the differences of this part. On the
-contrary, the divisions of genera are sometimes made by
-means of the flower; sometimes by means of the fruit: the
-anthers, the stamens, the seeds, the pericarp, and the most
-varied features of these parts, are used in the most
-miscellaneous and unsystematic manner. Linnæus has indeed
-laid down a maxim that the characteristic differences of
-genera must reside in the fructification[17\8]: but Adanson
-has justly remarked[18\8], that an arbitrary restriction
-like this makes the groups artificial: and that in some
-families other characters are more essential than those of
-the fructification; as the leaves in the families of
-_Aparineæ_ and _Leguminosæ_, and the disposition of the
-flowers in _Labiatæ_. And Naturalists are so far from
-thinking it sufficient to distribute species into genera by
-_arbitrary_ marks, that we find them in many cases lamenting
-the absence of good _natural_ marks: as in the families of
-_Umbelliferæ_, where Linnæus declared that any one who could
-find good characters of genera would deserve great
-admiration, and where it is only of late that good
-characters have been discovered and the arrangement
-settled[19\8] by means principally of the ribs of the
-fruit[20\8].
-
-[Note 16\8: Adanson, p. cvi.]
-
-[Note 17\8: _Phil. Bot._ Art. 162.]
-
-[Note 18\8: Adanson, Pref. p. cxx.]
-
-[Note 19\8: Lindley, _Nat. Syst._ p. 5.]
-
-[Note 20\8: In like manner we find Cuvier saying of Rondelet
-that he has 'un _sentiment_ très vrai des genres.' _Hist.
-Ichth._ p. 39.]
-
-It is thus clear that Genera are not established on any
-assumed or preconceived basis. What, then, is the principle
-which regulates botanists when they try to fix genera? What
-is the arrangement which they thus wish for, without being
-able to hit upon it? What is the tendency which thus drives
-them from the corolla to the anthers, from the flower to the
-fruit, {120} from the fructification to the leaves? It is
-plain that they seek something, not of their own devising
-and creating;--not anything merely conventional and
-systematic; but something which they conceive to exist in
-the relations of the plants themselves;--something which is
-without the mind, not within;--in nature, not in art;--in
-short, a Natural Order.
-
-Thus the regulative principle of a Genus, or of any other
-natural group is, that it is, or is supposed to be, natural.
-And by reference to this principle as our guide, we shall be
-able to understand the meaning of that indefiniteness and
-indecision which we frequently find in the descriptions of
-such groups, and which must appear so strange and
-inconsistent to any one who does not suppose these
-descriptions to assume any deeper ground of connexion than
-an arbitrary choice of the botanist. Thus in the family of
-the Rose-tree, we are told that the _ovules_ are _very
-rarely_ erect[21\8], the _stigmata_ are _usually_ simple. Of
-what use, it might be asked, can such loose accounts be? To
-which the answer is, that they are not inserted in order to
-distinguish the species, but in order to describe the
-family, and the total relations of the ovules and of the
-stigmata of the family are better known by this general
-statement. A similar observation may be made with regard to
-the Anomalies of each group, which occur so commonly, that
-Mr. Lindley, in his _Introduction to the Natural System of
-Botany_, makes the 'Anomalies' an article in each Family.
-Thus, part of the character of the Rosaceæ is that they have
-alternate _stipulate_ leaves, and that the _albumen_ is
-_obliterated_: but yet in _Lowea_, one of the genera of this
-family, the stipulæ are _absent_; and the albumen is
-_present_ in another, _Neillia_. This implies, as we have
-already seen, that the artificial character (or _diagnosis_
-as Mr. Lindley calls it) is imperfect. It is, though very
-nearly, yet not exactly, commensurate with the natural
-group: and hence, in certain cases, this character is made
-to yield to the general weight of natural affinities.
-
-[Note 21\8: Lindley, _Nat. Syst._ p. 81.]
-
-{121} 9. _Difference of Natural History and
-Mathematics._--These views,--of classes determined by
-characters which cannot be expressed in words,--of
-propositions which state, not what happens in all cases, but
-only usually,--of particulars which are included in a class
-though they transgress the definition of it, may very
-probably surprise the reader. They are so contrary to many
-of the received opinions respecting the use of definitions
-and the nature of scientific propositions, that they will
-probably appear to many persons highly illogical and
-unphilosophical. But a disposition to such a judgment arises
-in a great measure from this;--that the mathematical and
-mathematico-physical sciences have, in a great degree,
-determined men's views of the general nature and form of
-scientific truth; while Natural History has not yet had time
-or opportunity to exert its due influence upon the current
-habits of philosophizing. The apparent indefiniteness and
-inconsistency of the classifications and definitions of
-Natural History belongs, in a far higher degree, to all
-other except mathematical speculations: and the modes in
-which approximations to exact distinctions and general
-truths have been made in Natural History, may be worthy our
-attention, even for the light they throw upon the best modes
-of pursuing truth of all kinds.
-
-10. _Natural Groups given by Type not by Definition._--The
-further development of this suggestion must be considered
-hereafter. But we may here observe, that though in a Natural
-Group of objects a definition can no longer be of any use as
-a regulative principle, classes are not, therefore, left
-quite loose, without any certain standard or guide. The
-class is steadily fixed, though not precisely limited; it is
-given, though not circumscribed; it is determined, not by a
-boundary line without, but by a central point within; not by
-what it strictly excludes, but by what it eminently
-includes; by an example, not by a precept; in short, instead
-of Definition we have a _Type_ for our director.
-
-A Type is an example of any class, for instance, a species
-of a genus, which is considered as eminently {122}
-possessing the characters of the class. All the species
-which have a greater affinity with this Type-species than
-with any others, form the genus, and are ranged about it,
-deviating from it in various directions and different
-degrees. Thus a genus may consist of several species, which
-approach very near the type, and of which the claim to a
-place with it is obvious; while there may be other species
-which straggle further from this central knot, and which yet
-are clearly more connected with it than with any other. And
-even if there should be some species of which the place is
-dubious, and which appear to be equally bound by two generic
-types, it is easily seen that this would not destroy the
-reality of the generic groups, any more than the scattered
-trees of the intervening plain prevent our speaking
-intelligibly of the distinct forests of two separate hills.
-
-The Type-species of every genus, the Type-genus of every
-family, is, then, one which possesses all the characters and
-properties of the genus in a marked and prominent manner.
-The Type of the Rose family has alternate stipulate leaves,
-wants the albumen, has the ovules not erect, has the
-stigmata simple, and besides these features, which
-distinguish it from the exceptions or varieties of its
-class, it has the features which make it prominent in its
-class. It is one of those which possess clearly several
-leading attributes; and thus, though we cannot say of any
-one genus that it _must_ be the Type of the family, or of
-any one species that it _must_ be the Type of the genus, we
-are still not wholly to seek: the Type must be connected by
-many affinities with most of the others of its group; it
-must be near the center of the crowd, and not one of the
-stragglers.
-
-11. It has already been repeatedly stated, as the great rule
-of all classification, that the classification must serve to
-assert general propositions. It may be asked _what_
-propositions we are able to enunciate by means of such
-classifications as we are now treating of. And the answer
-is, that the collected knowledge of the characters, habits,
-properties, organization, and {123} functions of these
-groups and families, as it is found in the best botanical
-works, and as it exists in the minds of the best botanists,
-exhibits to us the propositions which constitute the
-science, and to the expression of which the classification
-is to serve. All that is not strictly definition, that is,
-all that is not artificial character, in the descriptions of
-such classes, is a statement of truths, more or less
-general, more or less precise, but making up, together, the
-positive knowledge which constitutes the science. As we have
-said, the consideration of the properties of plants in order
-to form a system of classification, has been termed
-Taxonomy, or the Systematick of Botany; all the parts of the
-descriptions, which, taking the system for granted, convey
-additional information, are termed the _Physiography_ of the
-science; and the same terms may be applied in the other
-branches of Natural History.
-
-12. _Artificial and Natural Systems._--If I have succeeded
-in making it apparent that an artificial system of
-characters necessarily implies natural classes which are not
-severed by the artificial marks, we shall now be able to
-compare the nature and objects of the Artificial and Natural
-Systems; points on which much has been written in recent times.
-
-The Artificial System is one which is, or professes to be,
-entirely founded upon marks selected according to the
-condition which has been stated, of not violating certain
-narrow natural groups; namely in the Linnæan system, the
-natural genera of plants. The marks which form the basis of
-the system, being thus selected, are applied rigorously and
-universally without any further regard to any other
-characters or indications of affinity. Thus in the Linnæan
-system, which depends mainly on the number of male organs or
-stamens, and on the number of female organs or styles, the
-largest divisions, or the Classes, are arranged according to
-the number of the stamens, and are _monandria_, _diandria_,
-_triandria_, _tetrandria_, _pentandria_, _hexandria_, and so
-on: the names being formed of the Greek numerical words, and
-of the word which implies _male_. And the Orders of each of
-these Classes are {124} distinguished by the number of
-styles, and are called _monogynia_, _digynia_, _trigynia_,
-and so on, the termination of these words meaning _female_.
-And so far as this numerical division and subdivision go on,
-the system is a rigorous system, and strictly artificial.
-
-But the condition that the artificial system shall leave
-certain natural affinities untouched, makes it impossible to
-go through the vegetable kingdom by a method of mere
-numeration of stamens and styles. The distinction of flowers
-with twenty and with thirty stamens is not a fixed
-distinction: flowers of one and the same kind, as roses,
-have, some fewer than the former, some more than the latter
-number. The Artificial System, therefore, must be modified.
-And there are various relations of connexion and proportion
-among the stamina which are more permanent and important
-than their mere number. Thus flowers with two longer and two
-shorter stamens are not placed in the class _tetrandria_,
-but are made a separate class _didynamia_; those with four
-longer and two shorter are in like manner _tetradynamia_,
-not _hexandria_; those in **which the filaments are bound
-into two bundles are _diadelphia_. All these and other
-classes are deviations from the plan of the earlier Classes,
-and are so far defects of the artificial system; but they
-are deviations requisite in order that the system may leave
-a basis of natural groups, without which it would not be a
-System of _Vegetables_. And as the division is still founded
-on some properties of the stamens, it combines not ill with
-that part of the system which depends on the number of them.
-The Classes framed in virtue of these various considerations
-make up an Artificial System which is tolerably coherent.
-
-'But since the Artificial System thus regards natural
-groups, in what does it differ from a Natural System?' It
-differs in this:--That though it allows certain subordinate
-natural groups, it merely allows _these_, and does not
-endeavour to ascend to any wider natural groups. It takes
-all the _higher_ divisions of its scheme from its artificial
-characters, its stamens and pistils, without looking to any
-natural affinities. It {125} accepts natural _Genera_, but
-it does not seek natural _Families_, or Orders, or Classes.
-It _assumes_ natural groups, but does not _investigate_ any;
-it forms wider and higher groups, but professes to frame
-them arbitrarily.
-
-But then, on the other hand, the question occurs, 'This
-being the case, what can be the use of the Artificial
-System?' If its characters, in the higher stages of
-classification, be arbitrary, how can it lead us to the
-natural relations of plants? And the answer is, that it does
-so in virtue of the original condition, that there shall be
-certain natural relations which the artificial system shall
-not transgress; and that its use arises from the facility
-with which we can follow the artificial arrangement as far
-as it goes. We can count the stamens and pistils, and thus
-we know the Class and Order of our plant; and we have then
-to discover its Genus and Species by means less symmetrical
-but more natural. The Artificial System, though arbitrary in
-a certain degree, brings us to a Class in which the whole of
-each Genus is contained, and there we can find the proper
-Genus by a suitable method of seeking. No Artificial System
-can conduct us into the extreme of detail, but it can place
-us in a situation where the detail is within our reach. We
-cannot find the house of a foreign friend by its latitude
-and longitude; but we may be enabled, by a knowledge of the
-latitude and longitude, to find the city in which he dwells,
-or at least the island; and we then can reach his abode by
-following the road or exploring the locality. The Artificial
-System is such a method of travelling by latitude and
-longitude; the Natural System is that which is guided by a
-knowledge of the country.
-
-The Natural System, then, is that which endeavours to
-arrange by the natural affinities of objects; and more
-especially, which attempts to ascend from the lower natural
-groups to the higher; as for example from genera to natural
-families, orders, and classes. But as we have already
-hinted, these expressions of natural affinities, natural
-groups, and the like, when {126} considered in reference to
-the idea of resemblance alone, without studying analogy or
-function, are very vague and obscure. We must notice some of
-the attempts which were made under the operation of this
-imperfect view of the subject.
-
-
-SECT. IV.--_Modes of framing Natural Systems._
-
-13. Decandolle[22\8] distinguishes the attempts at Natural
-Classifications into three sorts: those of _blind trial_
-(_tâtonnement_), those of _general comparison_, and those of
-_subordination of characters_. The two former do not depend
-distinctly upon any principle, except resemblance; the third
-refers us to other views, and must be considered in a future
-chapter.
-
-[Note 22\8: _Theor. Elem._ art 41.]
-
-_Method of Blind Trial._--The notion of the existence of
-natural classes dependent on the general resemblance of
-plants,--of an affinity showing itself in different parts
-and various ways,--though necessarily somewhat vague and
-obscure, was acted upon at an early period, as we have seen
-in the formation of genera; and was enunciated in general
-terms soon after. Thus Magnolius[23\8] says that he discerns
-in plants an affinity, by means of which they may be
-arranged in families: 'Yet it is impossible to obtain from
-the fructification alone the Characters of these families;
-and I have therefore chosen those parts of plants in which
-the principal characteristic marks are found, as the root,
-the stem, the flower, the seed. In some plants there is even
-a certain resemblance; an affinity which does not consist in
-the parts considered separately, but in their totality; an
-affinity which may be felt but not expressed; as we see in
-the families of agrimonies and cinquefoils, which every
-botanist will judge to be related, though they differ by
-their roots, their leaves, their flowers, and their seeds.'
-
-[Note 23\8: Dec. _Theor. Elem._ art. 42. Petri Magnoli,
-_Prodromus Hist. Gen. Plant._ 1689.]
-
-{127} This obscure feeling of a resemblance on the whole, an
-affinity of an indefinite kind, appears fifty years later in
-Linnæus's attempts. 'In the Natural Classification,' he
-says[24\8], 'no _à priori_ rule can be admitted, no part of
-the fructification can be taken exclusively into
-consideration; but only the simple symmetry of all its
-parts.' Hence though he proposed Natural Families, and even
-stated the formation of such Families to be the first and
-last object of all Methods, he never gave the Characters of
-those groups, or connected them by any method. He even
-declared it to be impossible to lay down such a system of
-characters. This persuasion was the result of his having
-refused to admit into his mind any Idea more profound than
-that notion of Resemblance of which he had made so much and
-such successful use; he would not attempt to unravel the
-Ideas of Symmetry and of Function on which the clear
-establishment of natural relations must depend. He even
-despised the study of the inner organization of plants; and
-reckoned[25\8] the _Anatomici_, who studied the anatomy and
-physiology of plants and the laws of vegetation, among the
-_Botanophili_, the mere amateurs of his science.
-
-[Note 24\8: Dec. _Theor. Elem._ art 42.]
-
-[Note 25\8: _Phil. Bot._ s. 44.]
-
-The same notion of general resemblance and affinity,
-accompanied with the same vagueness, is to be found in the
-writer who least participated in the general admiration of
-Linnæus, Buffon. Though it was in a great measure his love
-of higher views which made him dislike what he considered
-the pedantry of the Swedish school, he does not seem to have
-obtained a clearer sight of the principle of the natural
-method than his rival, except that he did not restrict his
-Characters to the fructification. Things must be arranged by
-their resemblances and differences, (he says in 1750[26\8],)
-'but the resemblances and differences must be taken not from
-one part but from the whole; and we must attend to the form,
-the size, the habit, the number and position of the parts,
-even the substance {128} of the part; and we must make use
-of these elements in greater or smaller number, as we have need.'
-
-[Note 26\8: Adanson, p. clvi. Buffon, _Hist. Nat._ t. i. p. 21.]
-
-14. _Method of General Comparison._--A countryman of Buffon,
-who shared with him his depreciating estimate of the Linnæan
-system, and his wish to found a natural system upon a
-broader basis, was Adanson; and he invented an ingenious
-method of apparently avoiding the vagueness of the practice
-of following the general feeling of resemblance. This method
-consisted in making many Artificial Systems, in each of
-which plants were arranged by some one part; and then
-collecting those plants which came near each other in the
-greatest number of those Artificial Systems, as plants
-naturally the most related. Adanson gives an account[27\8]
-of the manner in which this system arose in his mind. He had
-gone to Senegal, animated by an intense zeal for natural
-history; and there, amid the luxuriant vegetation of the
-torrid zone, he found that the methods of Linnæus and
-Tournefort failed him altogether as means of arranging his
-new botanical treasures. He was driven to seek a new system.
-'For this purpose,' he says, 'I examined plants in all their
-parts, without omitting any, from the roots to the embryo,
-the folding of the leaves in the bud, their mode of
-sheathing[28\8], the situation and folding of the embryo and
-of its radicle in the seed, relatively to the fruit; in
-short, a number of particulars which few botanists notice. I
-made in the first place a complete description of each
-plant, putting each of its parts in separate articles, in
-all its details; when new species occurred I put down the
-points in which they differed, omitting those in which they
-agreed. By means of the aggregate of these comparative
-descriptions, I perceived that plants arranged themselves
-into classes or families which could not be artificial or
-arbitrary, not being founded upon one or two parts, which
-might change at certain limits, but on all the parts; so
-that the disproportion of one of these parts was corrected
-and balanced by the introduction of another.' Thus the
-principle of Resemblance {129} was to suffice for the
-general arrangement, not by means of a new principle, as
-Symmetry or Organization, which should regulate its
-application, but by a numeration of the peculiarities in
-which the resemblance consisted.
-
-[Note 27\8: Pref. p. clvii.]
-
-[Note 28\8: 'Leur manière de s'engainer.']
-
-The labour which Adanson underwent in the execution of this
-thought was immense. By taking each Organ, and considering
-its situation, figure, number, &c., he framed sixty-five
-Artificial Systems; and collected his Natural Families by a
-numerical combination of these. For example, his
-_sixty-fifth_ Artificial System[29\8] is that which depends
-upon the situation of the Ovary with regard to the Flower;
-according to this system he frames _ten_ Artificial Classes,
-including _ninety-three_ Sections: and of these Sections the
-resulting Natural Arrangement retains _thirty-five_, above
-one-third: the same estimate is applied in other cases.
-
-[Note 29\8: Adanson, Pref. p. cccxii.]
-
-But this attempt to make Number supply the defects which the
-vague notion of Resemblance introduces, however ingenious,
-must end in failure. For, as Decandolle observes[30\8], it
-supposes that we know, not only all the Organs of plants,
-but all the points of view in which it is possible to
-consider them; and even if this assumption were true, which
-it is not, and must long be very far from being, the
-principle is altogether vicious; for it supposes that all
-these points of view, and all the resulting artificial
-systems are of equal importance:--a supposition manifestly
-erroneous. We are thus led back to the consideration of the
-_Relative Importance_ of Organs and their qualities, as a
-basis for the classification of plants, which no Artificial
-Method can supersede; and thus we find the necessity of
-attending to something besides mere external and detached
-Resemblance. The method of General Comparison cannot, any
-more than the method of Blind Trial, lead us, with any
-certainty or clearness, to the Natural Method. Adanson's
-Families are held by the best botanists to be, for the
-greater part, Natural; but his hypotheses are unfounded; and
-his success is {130} probably more due to the dim feeling of
-Affinity, by which he was unconsciously guided, than to the
-help he derived from his numerical processes.
-
-[Note 30\8: Dec. _Theor. Elem._ p. 67.]
-
-In a succeeding chapter I shall treat of that Natural
-Affinity on which a Natural System must really be founded.
-But before proceeding to this higher subject, we must say a
-few words on some of the other parts of the philosophy of
-Natural History,--the Gradation of Groups, the Nomenclature,
-the Diagnosis, and the application of the methods to other
-subjects.
-
-
-SECT. V.--_Gradation of Groups._
-
-15. It has been already noticed (last chapter,) that even
-that vague application of the idea of resemblance which
-gives rise to the terms of common language, introduces a
-subordination of classes, as _man_, _animal_, _body_,
-_substance_. Such a subordination appears in a more precise
-form when we employ this idea in a scientific manner as we
-do in Natural History. We have then a series of divisions,
-each inclusive of the lower ones, which are expressed by
-various metaphors in different writers. Thus some have gone
-as far as eight terms of the series[31\8], and have taken,
-for the most part, military names for them; as _Hosts_,
-_Legions_, _Phalanxes_, _Centuries_, _Cohorts_, _Sections_,
-_Genera_, _Species_. But the most received series is
-_Classes_, _Orders_, _Genera_, and _Species_; in which,
-however, we often have other terms interpolated, as
-_Sub-genera_, or Sections of genera. The expressions
-_Family_ and _Tribe_, are commonly appropriated to natural
-groups; and we speak of the Vegetable, Animal, Mineral
-_Kingdom_; but the other metaphors of Provinces, Districts,
-&c., which this suggests, have not been commonly used[32\8].
-
-[Note 31\8: Adanson, p. cvi.]
-
-[Note 32\8: _Sub-Kingdom_ has recently been employed by
-some naturalists.]
-
-It will of course be understood that each ascending step of
-classification is deduced by the same process from the one
-below. A Genus is a collection of Species which resemble
-each other more than they {131} resemble other species; an
-Order is a collection of Genera having, in like manner, the
-first degree of resemblance, and so on. How close or how
-wide the Degrees of Resemblance are, must depend upon the
-nature of the objects compared, and cannot possibly be
-prescribed beforehand. Hence the same term, _Class_ and
-_Order_ for instance, may imply, in different provinces of
-nature, very different degrees of resemblance. The Classes
-of Animals are Insects, Birds, Fish, Beasts, &c. The Orders
-of Beasts are _Ruminants_, _Tardigrades_, _Plantigrades_,
-&c. The two Classes of Plants (according to the Natural
-Order[33\8]) are _Vascular_ and _Cellular_, the latter
-having neither sexes, flowers, nor spiral vessels. The
-Vascular Plants are divided into Orders, as _Umbelliferæ_,
-_Ranunculaceæ_, &c.; but between this Class and its Orders
-are interposed two other steps:--two Sub-classes,
-_Dicotyledonous_ and _Monocotyledonous_, and two Tribes of
-each: _Angiospermiæ_, _Gymnospermiæ_ of the first; and
-_Petaloideæ_, _Glumaciæ_ of the second. Such interpolations
-are modifications of the general formula of subordination,
-for the purpose of accommodating it to the most prominent
-natural affinities.
-
-[Note 33\8: Lindley.]
-
-16. _Species._--As we have already seen in tracing the
-principles of the Natural Method, when by the intimate study
-of plants we seek to give fixity and definiteness to the
-notion of resemblance and affinity on which all these
-divisions depend, we are led to the study of Organization
-and Analogy. But we make a reference to physiological
-conditions even from the first, with regard to the lowest
-step of our arrangement, the _Species_; for we consider it a
-proof of the impropriety of separating two Species, if it be
-shown that they can by any course of propagation, culture,
-and treatment, the one pass into the other. It is in this
-way, for example, that it has been supposed to be
-established that the common Primrose, Oxlip, Polyanthus, and
-Cowslip, are all the same species. Plants which thus, in
-virtue of external circumstances, as soil, {132} exposure,
-climate, exhibit differences which may disappear by changing
-the circumstances, are called _Varieties_ of the species.
-And thus we cannot say that a Species is a collection of
-individuals which possess the First Degree of Resemblance;
-for it is clear that a primrose resembles another primrose
-more than it does a cowslip; but this resemblance only
-constitutes a Variety. And we find that we must necessarily
-include in our conception of Species, the notion of
-propagation from the same stock. And thus a Species has been
-well defined[34\8]: 'The collection of the individuals
-descended from one another, or from common parents, and of
-those which resemble these as much as these resemble each
-other.' And thus the sexual doctrine of plants, or rather
-the consideration of them as things which propagate their
-kind, (whether by seed, shoot, or in any other way,) is at
-the basis of our classifications.
-
-[Note 34\8: Cuv. _Règne Animal_, p. 19.]
-
-17. The First permanent Degree of Resemblance among
-organized beings is thus that which depends on this relation
-of generation, and we might expect that the groups which are
-connected by this relation would derive their names from the
-notion of generation. It is curious that both in Greek and
-Latin languages and in our own, the words which have this
-origin (γένος, _genus_, _kind_,) do not, in the phraseology
-of science at least, denote the nearest degree of
-relationship, but have other terms subordinate to them,
-which appear etymologically to indicate a mere resemblance
-of appearance (εἶδος, _species_, _sort_); and these latter
-terms are appropriated to the groups resulting from
-propagation. Probably the reason of this is, that the former
-terms (_genus_, &c.) had been applied so widely and loosely
-before the scientific fixation of terms, that to confine
-them to what we call _species_ would have been to restrict
-them in a manner too unusual to be convenient.
-
-18. _Varieties. Races._--The Species, as we have said, is
-the collection of individuals which resemble each other as
-much as do the offspring of a common {133} stock. But within
-the limits of this boundary, there are often observable
-differences permanent enough to attract our notice, though
-capable of being obliterated by mixture in the course of
-generation. Such different groups are called _Varieties_.
-Thus the Primrose and Cowslip, as has been stated above, are
-found to be varieties of the same plant; the Poodle and the
-Greyhound are well marked varieties of the species _dog_.
-Such differences are hereditary, and it may be long doubtful
-whether such hereditary differences are varieties only, or
-different species. In such cases the term _Race_ has been
-applied.
-
-
-SECT. VI.--_Nomenclature._
-
-19. The Nomenclature of any branch of Natural History is the
-collection of names of all its species; which, when they
-become extremely numerous, requires some artifice to make it
-possible to recollect or apply them. The known species of
-plants, for example, were 10,000 at the time of Linnæus, and
-are now probably 60,000. It would be useless to endeavour to
-frame and employ separate names for each of these species.
-
-The division of the objects into a subordinated system of
-classification enables us to introduce a Nomenclature which
-does not require this enormous number of names. The artifice
-employed to avoid this inconvenience is to name a Species by
-means of two (or it might be more) steps of the successive
-division. Thus in Botany, each of the genera has its name,
-and the species are marked by the addition of some epithet
-to the name of the genus. In this manner about 1,700 generic
-names, with a moderate number of specific names, were found
-by Linnæus sufficient to designate with precision all the
-species of vegetables known at his time. And this _Binary
-Method_ of Nomenclature has been found so convenient that it
-has been universally adopted in every other department of
-the Natural History of organized beings.
-
-Many other modes of Nomenclature have been tried, but no
-other has at all taken root. Linnæus himself {134} appears
-at first to have intended marking each species by the
-Generic Name accompanied by a characteristic Descriptive
-Phrase; and to have proposed the employment of a _trivial_
-Specific Name, as he termed it, only as a method of
-occasional convenience. The use of these _trivial names_,
-has, however, become universal, as we have said, and is by
-many persons considered the greatest improvement introduced
-at the Linnæan reform.
-
-Both Linnæus and other writers (as Adanson) have given many
-maxims with a view of regulating the selection of generic
-and specific names. The maxims of Linnæus were intended as
-much as possible to exclude barbarism and confusion, and
-have, upon the whole, been generally adopted; though many of
-them were objected to by his contemporaries (Adanson and
-others[35\8]), as capricious or unnecessary innovations.
-Many of the names, introduced by Linnæus, certainly appear
-fanciful enough: thus he gives the name of _Bauhinia_ to a
-plant with leaves in pairs, because the Bauhins were a pair
-of brothers; _Banisteria_ is the name of a climbing plant,
-in honour of Banister, who travelled among mountains. But
-such names, once established by adequate authority, lose all
-their inconvenience, and easily become permanent; and hence
-the reasonableness of the Linnæan rule[36\8], that as such a
-perpetuation of the names of persons by the names of plants
-is the only honour botanists have to bestow, it ought to be
-used with care and caution.
-
-[Note 35\8: Pp. cxxix. clxxii.]
-
-[Note 36\8: _Phil Bot._ s. 239.]
-
-The generic name must, as Linnæus says, be fixed[37\8]
-before we attempt to form a specific name; 'the latter
-without the former is like the clapper without the bell.'
-The name of the genus being established, the species may be
-marked by adding to it 'a single word taken at will from any
-quarter;' that is, not involving a description or any
-essential property of the plant, but a casual or arbitrary
-appellation[38\8]. Thus the {135} various species of
-_Hieracium_[39\8] are _Hieracium Alpinum_, _H. Halleri_, _H.
-Pilosella_, _H. dubium_, _H. murorum_, &c. where we see how
-different may be the kind of origin of the words.
-
-[Note 37\8: _Ib._ s. 222.]
-
-[Note 38\8: _Ib._ s. 260.]
-
-[Note 39\8: Hooker, _Fl. Scot._ 228.]
-
-Attempts have been made at various times to form the name of
-species from those of genera in some more symmetrical
-manner. Thus some have numbered the species of genus, 1, 2,
-3, &c.; but this method is liable to the inconveniences,
-first, that it offers nothing for the memory to take hold
-of; and second, that if a new species intermediate between 1
-and 2, 2 and 3, &c., be discovered, it cannot be put in its
-place. It has also been proposed to mark the species by
-altering the termination of the genus. Thus Adanson[40\8],
-denoting a genus by the name _Fonna_ (_Lychnidea_),
-conceived he might mark five of its species by altering the
-last vowel, _Fonna_, _Fonna-e_, _Fonna-i_, _Fonna-o_,
-_Fonna-u_; then others by _Fonna-ha_, _Fonna-ka_, and so on.
-This course would be liable to the same evils which have
-been noticed as belonging to the numerical method.
-
-[Note 40\8: Pref. clxxvi.]
-
-The names of plants (and the same is true of animals) have
-in common practice been binary only, consisting of a generic
-and a specific name. The Class and Order have not been
-admitted to form part of the appellation of the species.
-Indeed it is easy to see that a name which must be identical
-in so many instances as that of an Order would be, would be
-felt as superfluous and burdensome. Accordingly, Linnæus
-makes it a precept[41\8], that the name of the Class and the
-Order must not be expressed but understood: and hence, he
-says, Royen, who took _Lilium_ for the name of a Class,
-rightly rejected it as a generic name, and substituted
-_Lirium_, with the Greek termination.
-
-[Note 41\8: _Phil. Bot._ s. 215.]
-
-Yet we must not too peremptorily assume such maxims as these
-to be universal for all classificatory sciences. It is very
-possible that it may be found advisable to use _three_
-terms, that of order, genus and {136} species, in
-designating minerals, as is done in Mohs's nomenclature; for
-example, _Rhombohedral Calc Haloide_, _Paratomous Hal
-Baryte_.
-
-It is possible also that it may be found useful in the same
-science to mark some of the steps of classification by the
-termination. Thus it has been proposed to confine the
-termination _ite_ to the Order _Silicides_ of Naumann, as
-Apophyll_ite_, Stilb_ite_, Leuc_ite_, &c., and to use names
-of different form in other orders, as Talc _Spar_ for
-Brennerite, Pyramidal Titanium _Oxide_ for Octahedrite. Some
-such method appears to be the most likely to give us a
-tolerable mineralogical nomenclature.
-
-
-SECT. VII.--_Diagnosis._
-
-20. German Naturalists speak of a part of the general method
-which they call the _Characteristik_ of Natural History, and
-which is distinguished from the _Systematik_ of the science.
-The _Systematick_ arranges the objects by means of all their
-resemblances, the _Characteristick_ enables us to detect
-their place in the arrangement by means of a few of their
-characters. What these characters are to be, must be
-discovered by observation of the groups and divisions of the
-system when they are formed. To construct a collection of
-such characters as shall be clear and fixed, is a useful,
-and generally a difficult task; for there is usually no
-apparent connexion between the marks which are used in
-discriminating the groups, and the nature of the groups
-themselves. They are assumed only because the naturalist,
-extensively and exactly acquainted with the groups and the
-properties of the objects which compose them, sees, by a
-survey of the field, that these marks divide it properly.
-
-The Characteristick has been termed by some English
-Botanists the _Diagnosis_ of plants; a word which we may
-conveniently adopt. The Diagnosis of any genus or species is
-different according to the system we follow. Thus in the
-Linnæan System the Diagnosis of the Rose is in the first
-place given by its Class and Order: it is {137} Icosandrous,
-and Polygynous; and then the Generic Distinction is that the
-calyx is five-cleft, the tube urceolate, including many
-hairy achenia, the receptacle villous[42\8]. In the Natural
-System the Rose-Tribe are distinguished as being[43\8]
-'Polypetalous dicotyledons, with lateral styles, superior
-simple ovaria, regular perigynous stamens, exalbuminous
-definite seeds, and alternate stipulate leaves.' And the
-true Roses are further distinguished by having 'Nuts,
-numerous, hairy, terminated by the persistent lateral style
-and inclosed within the fleshy tube of the calyx,' &c.
-
-[Note 42\8: Lindley, _Nat. Syst._ p. 149.]
-
-[Note 43\8: _Ib._ pp. 81, 3.]
-
-It will be observed that in a rigorous Artificial System the
-_Systematick_ coincides with the _Characteristick_; the
-_Diataxis_ with the _Diagnosis_; the reason why a plant is
-put in a division is identical with the mode by which it is
-known to be in the division. The Rose is in the class
-_icosandria_, because it has many stamens inserted in the
-calyx; and when we see such a set of stamens we immediately
-know the class. But this is not the case with the Diagnosis
-of Natural Families. Thus the genera _Lamium_ and
-_Galeopsis_ (Dead Nettle and Hemp Nettle) are each formed
-into a separate group in virtue of their general
-resemblances and differences, and not because the former has
-one tooth on each side of the lower lip, and the latter a
-notch in its upper lip, though they are distinguished by
-these marks.
-
-Thus so far as our Systems are natural, (which, as we have
-shown, all systems to a certain extent must be), the
-Characteristick is distinct both from a Natural and an
-Artificial System; and is, in fact, an Artificial Key to a
-Natural System. As being Artificial, it takes as few
-characters as possible; as being Natural, its characters are
-not selected by any general or prescribed rule, but follow
-the natural affinities. The Botanists who have made any
-steps in the formation of a natural method of plants since
-Linnæus, have all attempted to give a Diagnosis
-corresponding to the Diataxis of their method.
-
-
-
-{{138}}
-CHAPTER III.
-
-APPLICATION OF THE NATURAL HISTORY METHOD TO MINERALOGY.
-
-
-1. THE philosophy of the Sciences of Classification has had
-great light thrown upon it by discussions concerning the
-methods which are used in Botany: for that science is one of
-the most complete examples which can be conceived of the
-consistent and successful application of the principles and
-ideas of Classification; and this application has been made
-in general without giving rise to any very startling
-paradoxes, or disclosing any insurmountable difficulties.
-But the discussions concerning methods of Mineralogical
-Classification have been instructive for quite a different
-reason: they have brought into view the boundaries and the
-difficulties of the process of Classification; and have
-presented examples in which every possible mode of
-classifying appeared to involve inextricable contradictions.
-I will notice some of the points of this kind which demand
-our attention, referring to the works published recently by
-several mineralogists.
-
-In the History of Mineralogy we noticed the attempt made by
-Mohs and other Germans to apply to minerals a method of
-arrangement similar to that which has been so successfully
-employed for plants. The survey which we have now taken of
-the grounds of that method will point out some of the
-reasons of the very imperfect success of this attempt. We
-have already said that the _Terminology_ of Mineralogy was
-materially reformed by Werner; and including in this branch
-of the subject (as we must do) the Crystallography of later
-writers, it may be considered as to a great extent complete.
-Of the attempts at a Natural arrangement, that of Mohs
-appears to proceed by the {139} method of _blind trial_, the
-undefinable perception of relationship, by which the
-earliest attempts at a Natural Arrangement of plants were
-made. Breithaupt however, has made (though I do not know
-that he has published) an essay in a mode which corresponds
-very nearly to Adanson's process of _multiplied
-comparisons_. Having ascertained the specific gravity and
-hardness of all the species of minerals, he arranged them in
-a table, representing by two lines at right angles to each
-other these two numerical quantities. Thus all minerals were
-distributed according to two co-ordinates representing
-specific gravity and hardness. He conceived that the groups
-which were thus brought together were natural groups. On
-both these methods, and on all similar ones, we might
-observe, that in minerals as in plants, the mere general
-notion of Likeness cannot lead us to a real arrangement:
-this notion requires to have precision and aim given it by
-some other relation;--by the relation of Chemical
-Composition in minerals, as by the relation of Organic
-Function in vegetables. The physical and crystallographical
-properties of minerals must be studied with reference to
-their constitution; and they must be arranged into Groups
-which have some common Chemical Character, before we can
-consider any advance as made towards a Natural Arrangement.
-
-In reality, it happens in Mineralogy as it happened in
-Botany, that those speculators are regulated by an obscure
-perception of this ulterior relation, who do not profess to
-be regulated by it. Several of the Orders of Mohs have
-really great unity of chemical character, and thus have good
-evidence of their being really Natural Orders.
-
-2. Supposing the Diataxis of minerals thus obtained, Mohs
-attempted the Diagnosis; and his _Characteristick of the
-Mineral Kingdom_, published in Dresden, in 1820, was the
-first public indication of his having constructed a system.
-From the nature of a Characteristick, it is necessarily
-brief, and without any ostensible principle; but its
-importance was duly appreciated by the author's countrymen.
-Since that {140} time, many attempts have been made at
-improved arrangements of minerals, but none, I think,
-(except perhaps that of Breithaupt,) professing to proceed
-rigorously on the principles of Natural History;--to arrange
-by means of external characters, neglecting altogether, or
-rather postponing, the consideration of chemical properties.
-By relaxing from this rigour, however, and by combining
-physical and chemical considerations, arrangements have been
-obtained (for example, that of Naumann,) which appear more
-likely than the one of Mohs to be approximations to an
-ultimate really natural system. Naumann's Classes are
-_Hydrolytes_, _Haloides_, _Silicides_, _Metal Oxides_,
-_Metals_, _Sulphurides_, _Anthracides_, with subdivisions of
-Orders, as _Anhydrous unmetallic Silicides_. It may be
-remarked that the designations of these are mostly chemical.
-As we have observed already, Chemistry, and Mineralogy in
-its largest sense, are each the necessary supplement of the
-other. If Chemistry furnish the Nomenclature, Mineralogy
-must supply the Physiography: if the Arrangement be founded
-on External Characters and the Names be independent of
-Chemistry, the chemical composition of each species is an
-important scientific Truth respecting it.
-
-3. The inquiry may actually occur, whether any subordination
-of groups in the mineral kingdom has really been made out.
-The ancient chemical arrangements, for instance, that of
-Haüy, though professing to distribute minerals according to
-Classes, Orders, Genera, and Species, were not only
-arbitrary, but inapplicable; for the first postulate of any
-method, that the species should have constant characters of
-unity and difference, was not satisfied. It was not
-ascertained that carbonate of lime was really
-distinguishable in all cases from carbonate of magnesia, or
-of iron; yet these species were placed in remote parts of
-the system: and the above carbonates made just so many
-species; although, if they were distinct from one another at
-all, they were further distinguishable into additional
-species. Even now, we may, perhaps, say that the limits of
-mineralogical species, and their laws of fixity, are {141}
-not yet clearly seen. For the discoveries of the isomorphous
-relations and of the optical properties of minerals have
-rather shown us in what direction the object lies, than led
-us to the goal. It is clear that, in the mineral kingdom,
-the Definition of Species, borrowed from the laws of the
-continuation of the kind, which holds throughout the organic
-world, fails us altogether, and must be replaced by some
-other condition: nor is it difficult to see that the
-definite atomic relations of the chemical constituents, and
-the definite crystalline angle, must supply the principles
-of the _Specific_ Identity for minerals. Yet the exact
-limits of definiteness in both these cases (when we admit
-the effect of mechanical mixtures, &c.) have not yet been
-completely disentangled. Moreover, any _arbitrary_
-assumption (as the allowance of a certain per-centage of
-mixture, or a certain small deviation in the angle,) is
-altogether contrary to the philosophy of the Natural System,
-and can lead to no stable views. It is only by laborious,
-extensive, and minute research, that we can hope to attain
-to any solid basis of arrangement.
-
-4. Still, though there are many doubts respecting
-mineralogical species, a large number of such species are so
-far fixed that they may be supposed capable of being united
-under the higher divisions of a system with approximate
-truth. Of these higher divisions, those which have been
-termed _Orders_ appear to tend to something like a fixed
-chemical character. Thus the _Haloids_ of Naumann, and
-mostly those of Mohs, are combinations of an oxide with an
-acid, and thus resemble Salts, whence their name. The
-Silicides contain most of Mohs's _Spaths_: and the Orders
-_Pyrites_, _Glance_, and _Blende_, are common to Naumann and
-Mohs; being established by the latter on a difference of
-external character, which difference is, indeed, very
-manifest; and being included by the former in one chemical
-_Class_, _Sulphurides_. The distinctions of _Hydrous_ and
-_Anhydrous_, _Metallic_ and _Unmetallic_, are, of course,
-chemical distinctions, but occur as the differences of
-Orders in Naumann's mixed system. {142}
-
-We may observe that some French writers, following Haüy's
-last edition, use, instead of _metallic_ and _unmetallic_,
-_autopside metallic_ and _heteropside metallic_; meaning by
-this phraseology to acknowledge the discovery that earths,
-etc., _are_ metallic, though they do not _appear_ to be so,
-while metals both are and appear metallic. But this seems to
-be a refinement not only useless but absurd. For what is
-gained by adding the word _metallic_, which is common to
-all, and therefore makes no distinction? If certain metals
-are distinguished by their _appearing_ to be metals, this
-appearance is a reason for giving them the peculiar name,
-_metals_. Nothing is gained by first bringing earths and
-metals together, and then immediately separating them again
-by new and inconvenient names. No proposition can be
-expressed better by calling _earths_, _heteropside metallic
-substances_, and therefore such nomenclature is to be
-rejected.
-
-Granting, then, that the Orders of the best recent
-mineralogical systems approximate to natural groups, we are
-led to ask whether the same can be said of the Genera of the
-Natural History systems, such as those of Mohs and
-Breithaupt. And here I must confess that I see no principle
-in these Genera; I have failed to apprehend the conceptions
-by the application of which they have been constructed: I
-shall therefore not pass any further judgment upon them. The
-subordination of Mineralogical Species to Orders is a
-manifest gain to science: in the interposition of Genera I
-see nothing but a source of confusion.
-
-5. In Mineralogy, as in other branches of natural history, a
-reformed arrangement ought to give rise to a reformed
-Nomenclature; and for this, there is more occasion at
-present in Mineralogy than there was in Botany at the worst
-period, at least as far as the extent of the subject allows.
-The characters of minerals are much more dimly and
-unfrequently developed than those of plants; hence arbitrary
-chemical arrangements, which could not lead to any natural
-groups, and therefore not to any good names, prevailed till
-recently; and this state of things produced an anarchy {143}
-in which every man did what seemed right in his own
-eyes,--proposed species without any ascertained distinction,
-and without a thought of subordination, and gave them
-arbitrary names; and thus with only about two or three
-hundred known species, we have thousands upon thousands of
-names, of anomalous form and uncertain application.
-
-Mohs has attempted to reform the Nomenclature of the subject
-in a mode consistent with his attempt to reform the System.
-In doing this, he has fatally transgressed a rule always
-insisted upon by the legislators of Botany, of altering
-usual names as little as possible; and his names are both so
-novel and so cumbrous, that they appear to have little
-chance of permanent currency. They are, perhaps, more
-unwieldy than they need to be, by referring, as we have
-said, to three of the steps of his classification, the
-Species, Genus, and Order. We may, however, assert
-confidently, from the whole analogy of natural history, that
-no good names can be found which do not refer to at least
-_two_ terms of the arrangement. This rule has been
-practically adopted to a great extent by Naumann, who gives
-to most of his Haloids the name _Spar_, as Calc spar, Iron
-spar, &c.; to all his Oxides the terminal word _Erz_
-(_Ore_); and to the species of the orders _Kies_
-(_Pyrites_), _Glance_, and _Blende_, these names. It has
-also been theoretically assented to by Beudant, who proposes
-that we should say _silicate stilbite_, _silicate chabasie_;
-_carbonate calcaire_, _carbonate witherite_; _sulphate
-couperose_, &c. One great difficulty in this case would
-arise from the great number of _silicides_; it is not likely
-that any names would obtain a footing which tacked the term
-_silicide_ to another word for each of these species. The
-artifice which I have proposed, in order to obviate this
-difficulty, is that we should make the names of the
-silicides, and those alone, end in _ite_ or _lite_, which a
-large proportion of them do already.
-
-By this and a few similar contrivances, we might, I
-conceive, without any inconvenient change, introduce into
-Mineralogy a systematic nomenclature. {144}
-
-6. I shall now proceed to make a few remarks on a work on
-Mineralogy more recent than those which I have above
-noticed, and written with express reference to such
-difficulties as I have been discussing. I allude to the
-treatise of M. Necker, _Le Règne Mineral ramené aux Methods
-d'Histoire Naturelle_[44\8], which also contains various
-dissertations on the Philosophy of Classification in
-general, and its application to Mineralogy in particular.
-
-[Note 44\8: Paris, 1835.]
-
-M. Necker remarks very justly, that Mineralogy, as it has
-hitherto been treated, differs from all other branches of
-Natural History in this:--that while it is invested with all
-the forms of the sciences of classification,--Classes,
-Divisions, Genera, and the like,--the properties of those
-bodies to which the mineralogical student's attention is
-directed have no bearing whatever on the classification. A
-person, he remarks[45\8], might be perfectly well acquainted
-with all the characters of minerals which Werner or Haüy
-examined so carefully, and might yet be quite unable to
-assign to any mineral its place in the divisions of their
-methods. There is[46\8] a complete separation between the
-study of mineralogical characters and the recognition of the
-name and systematic place of a mineral. Those who know
-_mineralogy_ well, may know _minerals_ ill, or hardly at
-all; the systematist may be in such knowledge vastly
-inferior to the mineral-dealer or the miner. In this respect
-there is a complete contrast between this science and other
-classificatory sciences.
-
-[Note 45\8: _Règne Mineral_, p. 3.]
-
-[Note 46\8: _Ib._ p. 8.]
-
-Again, in the best-known systems of Mineralogy, (as those of
-Werner and Haüy,). the bodies which are grouped together as
-belonging to the same division, have not, as they have in
-other classificatory sciences, any resemblance. The
-different members of the larger classes are united by the
-common possession of some abstract property,--as, that they
-all contain iron. This is a property to which no common
-circumstance in the bodies themselves corresponds. What is
-there common to the minerals named oxidulous iron, sulphuret
-{145} of iron, carbonate of iron, sulphate of iron, except
-that they all contain iron? And when we have classed these
-bodies together, what general assertion can we make
-concerning them, except that which is the ground of our
-classification, that they contain iron? They have nothing in
-common with iron or with each other in any other way.
-
-Again, as these classes have no general properties, all the
-properties are particular to the species; and the
-descriptions of these necessarily become both tediously
-long, and inconveniently insulated.
-
-7. These inconveniences arise from making Chemical
-Composition the basis of Mineralogical Classification
-without giving Chemical Analysis the first place among
-Mineral Properties. Shall we, then, correct this omission,
-so far as it has affected mineralogical systems? Shall we
-teach the student the chemical analysis of minerals, and
-then direct him to classify them according to the results of
-his analysis[47\8]?
-
-[Note 47\8: _Règne Mineral_, p. 18.]
-
-But why should we do this? To what purpose, or on what
-ground, do we arrange the results of chemical analysis
-according to the forms and subordination of natural history?
-Is not Chemistry a science distinct from Natural History?
-Are not the sciences opposed? Is not natural history
-confined to organic bodies? Can mere chemical elements and
-their combinations be, with any propriety or consistency,
-arranged into Species, Genera, and Families? What is the
-principle on which genera and species depend? Do not Species
-imply Individuals? What is an Individual in the case of a
-chemical substance?
-
-8. We thus find some of the widest and deepest questions of
-the philosophy of classification brought under our
-consideration when we would provide a method for the
-classification of minerals. The answers to these questions
-are given by M. Necker; and I shall state some of his
-opinions; taking the liberty of adding such remarks as are
-suggested by referring the subject {146} to those principles
-which have already been established in this work.
-
-M. Necker asserts[48\8] that the distinctions of different
-Sciences depend, not on the objects they consider, but on
-the different and independent points of view on which they
-proceed. Each science has its logic, that is, its mode of
-applying the general rules of human reason to its own
-special case. It has been said by some[49\8], that in
-minerals, natural history and chemistry contemplate common
-objects, and thus form a single science. But do chemistry
-and natural history consider minerals in the same point of view?
-
-[Note 48\8: _Règne Mineral_, p. 23.]
-
-[Note 49\8: _Ib._ p. 27.]
-
-The answer is, that they do not. Physics and Chemistry
-consider the properties of bodies in an abstract manner; as,
-their composition, their elements, their mutual actions,
-with the laws of these; their forces, as attraction,
-affinity; all which objects are abstract ideas. In these
-cases we have nothing to do with bodies themselves, but as
-the vehicles of the powers and properties which we
-contemplate.
-
-Natural History, on the other hand, has to do with natural
-bodies: their properties are not considered abstractedly,
-but only as characters. If the properties are abstracted, it
-is but for a moment. Natural history has to describe and
-class bodies as they are. All which cannot be perceived by
-the senses, belongs not to its domain, as molecules, atoms,
-elements.
-
-Natural history[50\8] may have recourse to physics or
-chemistry in order to recognize those properties of bodies
-which serve as characters; but natural history is not, on
-that account, physics or chemistry. Classification is the
-essential business of the natural historian[51\8], to which
-task chemistry and physics are only instrumental, and the
-further account of properties only complementary.
-
-[Note 50\8: _Ib._ p. 37.]
-
-[Note 51\8: _Ib._ p. 41.]
-
-It has been said, in support of the doctrine that chemistry
-and mineralogy are identical, that chemistry does not
-neglect external characters. 'The chemist in {147}
-describing sulphur, mentions its colour, taste, odour,
-hardness, transparence, crystalline form, specific gravity;
-how does he then differ from the mineralogist?' But to this
-it is replied, that these notices of the external characters
-of this or any substance are introduced in chemistry merely
-as convenient marks of recognition; whereas they are
-essential in mineralogy. If we had taken the account given
-of several substances instead of one, we should have seen
-that the chemist and the naturalist consider them in ways
-altogether different. The chemist will make it his business
-to discover the mutual action of the substances; he will
-combine them, form new products, determine the proportions
-of the elements. The mineralogist will divide the substances
-into groups according to their properties, and then
-subdivide these groups, till he refers each substance to its
-species. Exterior and physical characters are merely
-accessory and subordinate for the chemist; chemistry is
-merely instrumental for the mineralogist.
-
-This view agrees with that to which we have been led by our
-previous reasonings; and may, according to our principles,
-be expressed briefly by saying, that the Idea which
-Chemistry has to apply is the Idea of Elementary
-Composition, while Natural History applies the Idea of
-Graduated Resemblances, and thus performs the task of
-classification.
-
-9. The question occurs[52\8], whether Natural History can be
-applied to Inorganic Substances? And the answer to this
-question is, that it can be applied, if there are such
-things as inorganic individuals, since the resemblances and
-differences with which natural history has to do are the
-resemblances and differences of individuals.
-
-[Note 52\8: _Règne Mineral_, p. 46.]
-
-What is an Individual? It certainly is not that which is so
-simple that it cannot be divided. Individual animals are
-composed of many parts. But if we examine, we shall find
-that our Idea of an Individual is, that it is a whole
-composed of parts, which {148} are not similar to the whole,
-and have not an independent existence, while the whole has
-an independent existence and a definite form[53\8].
-
-[Note 53\8: _Règne Mineral_, p. 52.]
-
-What then is the Mineralogical Individual? At first, while
-minerals were studied for their use, the most precious of
-the substances which they contained was looked upon as the
-characteristic of the mineral. The smallest trace of silver
-made a mineral an _ore of silver_. Thus forms and properties
-were disregarded, and _substance_ was considered as
-identical with _mineral_. And hence[54\8] Daubenton refused
-to recognize _species_ in the mineral kingdom, because he
-recognized no individuals. He proposed to call _sorts_ what
-we call species. In this way of considering minerals, there
-are no individuals.
-
-[Note 54\8: _Ib._ p. 54.]
-
-10. But still this is not satisfactory: for if we take a
-well-formed and distinct crystal, this clearly _is_ an
-individual[55\8].
-
-[Note 55\8: _Ib._ p. 56.]
-
-It may be objected, that the crystal is divisible (according
-to the theory of crystallography) into smaller solids; that
-these small solids are really the simple objects; and that
-actual crystals are formed by combinations of these
-molecules according to certain laws.
-
-But, as we have already said, an individual is such, not
-because it cannot be divided, but because it cannot be
-divided into parts similar to the whole. As to the division
-of the form into its component _laws_, this is an abstract
-proceeding, foreign to natural history[56\8]. Therefore
-there is so far nothing to prevent a crystal from being an
-individual.
-
-[Note 56\8: _Ib._ p. 58.]
-
-11. We cannot (M. Necker goes on to remark) consider the
-_Integrant Molecules_ as individuals. These are useful
-abstractions, but abstractions only, which we must not deal
-with as real objects. Haüy himself warns us[57\8] that his
-doctrine of increments is a purely abstract conception, and
-that nature, in fact, follows a different process.
-Accordingly, Weiss and Mohs express laws identical with
-those of Haüy, without even {149} speaking of molecules; and
-Wollaston and Davy have deemed it probable that the
-molecules are not polyhedrons, but spheres or spheroids.
-Such mere creations of the mind can never be treated as
-individuals. If the maxim of natural history,--that the
-Species is a collection of Individuals--be applied so as to
-make those individuals mere abstractions; or if, instead of
-Individuals, we take such an abstraction as Substance or
-Matter, the course of natural history is altogether
-violated. And yet this errour has hitherto generally
-prevailed; and mineralogists have classified, not things,
-but abstract ideas[58\8].
-
-[Note 57\8: _Ib._ p. 61.]
-
-[Note 58\8: _Règne Mineral_, p. 67.]
-
-12. But it may be said[59\8], will not the small solids
-obtained by Cleavage better answer the idea of individuals?
-To this it is replied, that these small solids have no
-independent existence. They are only the result of a mode of
-division. They are never found separate and independent. The
-secondary forms which they compose are determined by various
-circumstances (the nature of the solution, &c.); and the
-cleavage which produces these small solids is only one
-result among many, from the crystalline forces[60\8].
-
-[Note 59\8: _Ib._ p. 69.]
-
-[Note 60\8: _Ib._ p. 71.]
-
-Thus neither Integrant Molecules, nor Solids obtained by
-Cleavage, can be such mineralogical Individuals as the
-spirit of natural history requires. Hence it appears that we
-must take the real Crystals for Individuals[61\8].
-
-[Note 61\8: _Ib._ p. 73.]
-
-13. We must, however, reject crystals (generally large ones)
-which are obviously formed of several smaller ones of a
-similar form (as occurs so often in quartz and calc spar).
-We must also distinguish cases in which a large regular form
-is composed of smaller but different regular forms (as
-octahedrons of fluor spar made up of cubes). Here the small
-component forms are the individuals. Also we must notice the
-cases[62\8] in which we have a natural crystal, similar to
-the primary form. Here the face will show whether {150} the
-body is a result obtained by cleavage or a natural individual.
-
-[Note 62\8: _Ib._ p. 75.]
-
-14. It will be objected[63\8], that the crystalline form
-ought not to be made the dominant character in mineralogy,
-since it rarely occurs perfect. To this it is replied, that
-even if the application of the principle be difficult, still
-it has been shown to be the only true principle, and
-therefore we have no alternative. But further[64\8], it is
-not true that amorphous substances are more numerous than
-crystals. In Leonhard's _Manual of Oryctognosy_, there are
-377 mineral substances. Of these, 281 have a crystalline
-structure, and 96 only have not been found in a regular form.
-
-[Note 63\8: _Règne Mineral_, p. 79.]
-
-[Note 64\8: _Ib._ p. 82.]
-
-Again, the 281 crystalline forms have each its varieties,
-some of which are crystalline, and some are not so. Now the
-crystalline varieties amount to 1453, and the uncrystalline
-to 186 only. Thus mineralogy, according to the view of it
-here presented, has a sufficiently wide field[65\8].
-
-[Note 65\8: _Ib._ p. 84.]
-
-15. It will be objected[66\8], that according to this mode
-of proceeding, we must reject from our system all
-non-crystalline minerals. But we reply, that if the mass be
-composed of crystals, the size of the crystals makes no
-difference. Now lamellar and other compact masses are very
-generally groups of crystals in various positions.
-Individuals mutilated and mixed together are not the less
-individuals; and therefore such masses may be treated as
-objects of natural history.
-
-[Note 66\8: _Ib._ p. 86.]
-
-If we cannot refer all rocks to crystalline species, those
-which elude our method may appear as an appendix,
-corresponding to those plants which botanists call _genera
-incertæ sedis_[67\8].
-
-[Note 67\8: _Ib._ p. 91.]
-
-But these genera and species will often be afterwards
-removed into the crystalline part of the system, by being
-identified with crystalline species. Thus _pyrope_, &c.,
-have been referred to _garnet_, and _basalt_, {151} _wacke_,
-&c., to compound rocks. Thus veins of _Dolerite_, visibly
-composed of two or three elements, pass to an apparently
-simple state by becoming fine-grained[68\8].
-
-[Note 68\8: _Règne Mineral_, p. 93.]
-
-16. Finally[69\8], we have to ask, are artificial crystals
-to enter into our classification? M. Necker answers, No;
-because they are the result of art, like mules, mestizos,
-hybrids, and the like.
-
-[Note 69\8: _Ib._ p. 95.]
-
-17. Upon these opinions, we may observe, that they appear to
-be, in the main, consistent with the soundest philosophy.
-That each natural crystal is an individual, is a doctrine
-which is the only basis of Mineralogy as a Natural
-Historical Science; yet the imperfections and confused
-unions of crystals make this principle difficult to apply.
-Perhaps it may be expressed in a more precise manner by
-referring to the crystalline forces, and to the axes by
-which their operation is determined, rather than to the
-external form. _That_ portion of a mineral substance is a
-mineralogical _individual_ which is determined by
-crystalline forces acting to the _same axes_. In this way we
-avoid the difficulty arising from the absence of faces, and
-enable ourselves to use either cleavage, or optical
-properties, or any others, as indications of the identity of
-the individual. The individual extends so far as the polar
-forces extend by which crystalline form is determined,
-whether or not those forces produce their full effect,
-namely, a perfectly circumscribed polyhedron.
-
-18. There is only one material point on which our principles
-lead us to differ from M. Necker;--the propriety of
-including _artificial crystals_ in our mineralogical
-classification. To exclude them, as he does, is a conclusion
-so entirely at variance with the whole course of his own
-reasonings, that it is difficult to conceive that he would
-persist in his conclusion, if his attention were drawn to
-the question more steadily. For, as he justly says[70\8],
-each science has its appropriate domain, determined by its
-peculiar point of view. Now artificial and natural crystals
-are considered in the same point of view, (namely, with
-reference to {152} crystalline, physical, and optical
-properties, as subservient to classification,) and ought,
-therefore, to belong to the same science. Again, he
-says[71\8], that Chemistry would reject as useless all
-notice of the physical properties and external characters of
-substances, if a _special science_ were to take charge of
-the description and classification of these products. But
-such a special science must be Mineralogy; for we cannot
-well make one science of the classification of natural, and
-another of that of artificial substances: or if we do, the
-two sciences will be identical in method and principles, and
-will extend over each other's boundaries, so that it will be
-neither useful nor possible to distinguish them. Again, M.
-Necker's own reasonings on the selection of the individual
-in mineralogy are supported by well chosen examples[72\8];
-but these examples are taken from artificial salts; as, for
-instance, common salt crystallizing in different mixtures.
-Again, the analogy of mules and mestizos, as products of
-art, with chemical compounds, is not just. Chemical
-compounds correspond rather to natural species, propagated
-by man under the most natural circumstances, in order that
-he may study the laws of their production[73\8].
-
-[Note 70\8: _Ib._ p. 23.]
-
-[Note 71\8: _Règne Mineral_, p. 36.]
-
-[Note 72\8: _Ib._ p. 71.]
-
-[Note 73\8: We may remark that M. Necker, in his own
-arrangement of minerals, inserts among his species Iron and
-Lead, which do not occur Native.]
-
-19. But the decisive argument against the separation of
-natural and artificial crystals in our schemes of
-classification is, that we _cannot_ make such a separation.
-Substances which were long known only as the products of the
-laboratory, are often discovered, after a time, in natural
-deposits. Are the crystals which are found in a forgotten
-retort or solution to be considered as belonging to a
-different science from those which occur in a deserted mine?
-And are the crystals which are produced where man has turned
-a stream of water or air out of its course, to be separated
-from natural crystals, when the composition, growth, and
-properties, are exactly the same in both? And again: How
-many natural crystals can we already produce by {153}
-synthesis! How many more may we hope to imitate hereafter!
-M. Necker himself states[74\8], that Mitscherlich found, in
-the scoriæ of the mines of Sweden and Germany, artificial
-minerals having the same composition and the same
-crystalline form with natural minerals: as silicates of
-iron, lime, and magnesia, agreeing with Peridot; bisilicate
-of iron, lime, and magnesia, agreeing with Pyroxene; red
-oxide of copper; oxide of zinc; protoxide of iron (_fer
-oxydulé_); sulphurets of iron, zinc, lead; arseniuret of
-nickel; black mica. These were accidental results of fusion.
-But M. Berthier, by bringing together the elements in proper
-quantities, has succeeded in composing similar minerals, and
-has thus obtained artificial silicates, with the same forms
-and the same characters as natural silicates. Other chemists
-(M. Haldat, M. Becquerel) have, in like manner, obtained, by
-artificial processes, other crystals, known previously as
-occurring naturally. How are these crystals, thus identical
-with natural minerals, to be removed out of the domain of
-mineralogy, and transferred to a science which shall
-classify artificial crystals only? If this be done, the
-mineralogist will not be able to classify any specimen till
-he has human testimony whether it was found naturally
-occurring or produced by chemical art. Or is the other
-alternative to be taken, and are these crystals to be given
-up to mineralogy because they occur naturally also? But what
-can be more unphilosophical than to refer to separate
-sciences the results of chemical processes closely allied,
-and all but identical? The chemist constructs bisilicates,
-and these are classified by the mineralogist: but if he
-constructs a trisilicate, it belongs to another science. All
-these intolerable incongruities are avoided by acknowledging
-that artificial, as well as natural, crystals belong to the
-domain of mineralogy. It is, in fact, the _name_ only of
-_Mineralogy_ which appears to discover any inconsistency in
-this mode of proceeding. Mineralogy is the {154}
-representative of a science which has a wider office than
-mineralogists first contemplated; but which must exist, in
-order that the body of science may be complete. There must,
-as we have already said, be a Science, the object of which
-is to classify bodies by their physical characters, in order
-that we may have some means of asserting chemical truths
-concerning bodies; some language in which we may express the
-propositions which chemical analysis discovers. And this
-Science will have its object prescribed, not by any
-accidental or arbitrary difference of the story belonging to
-each specimen;--not by knowing whether the specimen was
-found in the mine or in the laboratory; produced by
-attempting to imitate nature, or to do violence to her:--but
-will have its course determined by its own character. The
-range and boundaries of this Science will be regulated by
-the Ideas with which it deals. Like all other sciences, it
-must extend to everything to which its principles apply. The
-limits of the province which it includes are fixed by the
-consideration that it must be a connected whole. No previous
-definition, no historical accident, no casual phrase, can at
-all stand in the way of philosophical consistency;--can make
-this Science exclude what that includes, or oblige it to
-admit what that rejects. And thus, whatever we call our
-Science;--whether we term it External Chemistry, Mineralogy,
-the Natural History of Inorganic Bodies;--since it can be
-nothing but the Science of the Classification of Inorganic
-Bodies of definite forms and properties, it must classify
-all such bodies, whether or not they be minerals, and
-whether or not they be natural.
-
-[Note 74\8: _Règne Mineral_, p. 151.]
-
-20. In the application of the principles of classification
-to minerals, the question occurs, What are to be considered
-as mineral _Species_? By Species we are to understand,
-according to the usage of other parts of natural history,
-the lowest step of our subordinate divisions;--the most
-limited of the groups which have definite distinctions. What
-definite distinctions of groups of objects of any kind
-really occur in nature, is to be learnt from an examination
-of nature: and the {155} result of our inquiries will be
-some general principle which connects the members of each
-group, and distinguishes the members of groups which, though
-contiguous, are different. In the classification of
-organized bodies, the rule which thus presides over the
-formation of Species is the principle of _reproduction_.
-Those animals and those plants are of the same Species which
-are produced from a common stock, or which resemble each
-other as much as the progeny of a common stock. Accordingly
-in practice, if any questions arise whether two varieties of
-form in organic things be of the same or different species,
-it is settled by reference to the fact of reproduction; and
-when it is ascertained that the two forms come within the
-habitual and regular limits of a common circle of
-reproduction, they are held to be of the same species. Now
-in crystals, this principle of reproduction disappears
-altogether, and the basis of the formation of species must
-be sought elsewhere. We must have some other principle to
-replace the reproduction which belongs only to organic life.
-This principle will be, we may expect, one which secures the
-permanence and regularity of mineral forms, as the
-reproductive power does of animal and vegetable. Such a
-principle is the _Power of Crystallization_. The forces of
-which solidity, cohesion, and crystallization are the
-result, are those which give to minerals their permanent
-existence and their physical properties; and ever since the
-discovery of the distinctions of Crystalline Forms and
-Crystalline Systems, it is certain that this force
-distinguishes groups of crystals in the most precise and
-definite manner. The rhombohedral carbonates of lime and of
-iron, for instance, are distinguished exactly by the angles
-of their rhombohedrons. And if, in the case of any proposed
-crystal, we should doubt to which kind the specimen belongs,
-the measurement of the angles of cleavage would at once
-decide the question. The principle of Crystallization
-therefore appears, from analogy, to be exactly fitted to
-take the place of the principle of organic Generation. The
-forces which make the individual permanent and its
-properties definite, here stand in the place of the forces
-{156} which preserve the race, while individuals are
-generated and die.
-
-21. According to this view, the different Modifications of
-the _same_ crystalline form would be _Varieties_ only of the
-same Species. All the various solids, for example, which are
-produced by the different laws of derivation of rhombohedral
-carbonate of lime, would fall within the same Species. And
-this appears to be required by the general analogy of
-Natural History. For these differences of form, produced by
-the laws of crystalline derivation, are not _definite_. The
-faces which are added to one form in order to produce
-another, may be of any size, small or large, and thus the
-crystal which represents one modification passes by
-insensible degrees to another. The forms of calc spar, which
-we call _dog-tooth spar_, _cannon spar_, _nail-head spar_,
-and the like, appear at first, no doubt, distinct enough;
-but so do the races of dogs. And we find, in the mineral as
-in the animal, that the distinction is obliterated by taking
-such intermediate steps as really occur. And if a _fragment_
-of any of these crystals is given us, we can determine that
-it is rhombohedral carbonate of lime; but it is not
-possible, in general, to determine to which of the kinds of
-crystals it has belonged.
-
-22. Notwithstanding these considerations, M. Necker has
-taken for his basis of mineral species[75\8] the _Secondary_
-Modifications, and not the Primary Forms. Thus _cubical
-galena_, _octahedral galena_, and _triform galena_, are,
-with him, three _species_ of crystals.
-
-[Note 75\8: _Règne Mineral_, p. 396.]
-
-On this I have to observe, as I have already done, that on
-this principle we have no _definite_ distinction of species;
-for these forms may and do pass into each other: among
-cubo-octahedrons of galena occur cubes and octahedrons, as
-one face or another vanishes, and the transition is
-insensible. We shall, on this principle, find almost always
-three or four species in the same tuft of crystals; for
-almost every individual in such assemblages may exhibit a
-different combination of {157} secondary faces. Again, in
-cases where the secondary laws are numerous, it would be
-impracticable to enumerate all their combinations, and
-impossible therefore to give a list of species. Accordingly
-M. Necker[76\8] gives seventy-one Species of _spath
-calcaire_, and then says, 'Nous n'avons pas énumeré la
-dixième partie des espèces connues de ce genre, qui se
-montent à plus de huit cents.' Again, in many substances, of
-which few crystals are found, every new specimen would be a
-new species; if indeed it were perfect enough to be referred
-to a species at all. But from a specimen without perfect
-external form, however perfect in crystalline character,
-although everything else might be known,--angles, optical
-properties, physical properties, and chemical
-constitution,--the species could not be determined. Thus M.
-Necker says[77\8] of the micas, 'Quant aux espèces propre à
-chaque genre, la lacune sera presque complète; car jusqu'ici
-les cristaux entiers de Mica et de Talc n'ont pas été fort communs.'
-
-[Note 76\8: _Règne Mineral_, p. 364.]
-
-[Note 77\8: _Ib._ ii. 414.]
-
-These inconveniences arise from neglecting the leading rule
-of natural history, that the _predominant principle_ of the
-existence of an object must determine the Species; whether
-this principle be Reproduction operating for Development, or
-Crystallization operating for Permanence of form. We may add
-to the above statement of inconveniences this;--that if M.
-Necker's view of mineralogical species be adopted, the
-distinction of Species is vague and indefinite, while that
-of Genera is perfectly precise and rigorous;--an aspect of
-the system entirely at variance with other parts of Natural
-History; for in all these the Species is a more definite
-group than the Genus.
-
-This result follows, as has already been said, from M.
-Necker's wish to have individuals marked by external form.
-If, instead of this, we are contented to take for an
-individual that portion of a mass, of whatever form, which
-is connected by the continuous influence of the same
-crystalline forces, by whatever incidents these forces may
-be manifested, (as cleavage, {158} physical and optical
-properties, and the like,) our mode of proceeding avoids all
-the above inconveniences, applies alike to the most perfect
-and most imperfect specimens, and gives a result agreeable
-to the general analogy of natural history, and the rules of
-its methods[78\8].
-
-[Note 78\8: I will not again enter into the subject of
-Nomenclature; but I may remark that M. Necker has adopted
-(i. 415) the Nomenclature of Beudant, latinizing the names,
-and thus converting each into a single word. He has also
-introduced, besides the names of Genera, names of Families
-taken from the _typical_ Genus. Thus the Family of
-_Carbonidiens_ contains the following genera:
-_Calcispathum_, _Magnesispathum_, _Dolomispathum_,
-_Ferrispathum_, _&c._, _Malachita_, _Azuria_, _Gaylusacia_.]
-
-I now quit the subject of mere Resemblance, and proceed to
-treat of that natural affinity which Natural Systems of
-Classification for organic bodies must involve.
-
-
-
-{{159}}
-CHAPTER IV.
-
-OF THE IDEA OF NATURAL AFFINITY.
-
-
-1. IN the Second Chapter of this Book it was shown that
-although the Classificatory Sciences proceed ostensibly upon
-the Idea of Resemblance as their main foundation, they
-necessarily take for granted in the course of their progress
-a further Idea of Natural Affinity. This appeared[79\8] by a
-general consideration of the nature of Science, by the
-recognition of natural species and genera, even in
-Artificial Systems of Classification[80\8], and by the
-**attempts of botanists to form a Natural System. It further
-appeared that among the processes by which endeavours have
-been made to frame a Natural System, some, as the method of
-_Blind Trial_ and the method of _General Comparison_, have
-been altogether unsuccessful, being founded only upon a
-collection of resemblances, casual in the one case and
-arbitrary in the other. In neither of these processes is
-there employed any general principle by which we may be
-definitely directed as to what resemblances we should
-employ, or by which the result at which we arrive may be
-verified and confirmed. Our object in the present chapter is
-to show that the Idea of Natural Affinity supplies us with a
-principle which may answer such purposes.
-
-[Note 79\8: Art. 5.]
-
-[Note 80\8: Art. 7.]
-
-I shall first consider the Idea of Affinity as exemplified
-in organized beings. In doing this, we may appear to take
-for granted Ideas which have not yet come under our
-discussion, as the Ideas of Organization, and Vital
-Function; but it will be found that the principle to which
-we are led is independent of these additional Ideas. {160}
-
-2. We have already seen that the attempts to discover the
-divisions which result from this Natural Affinity have led
-to the consideration of the _Subordination of Characters_.
-It is easy to see that some organs are more essential than
-others to the existence of an organized being; the organs of
-nutrition, for example, more essential than those of
-locomotion. But at the same time it is clear that any
-_arbitrary_ assumption of a certain scale of relative values
-of different kinds of characters will lead only to an
-Artificial System. This will happen, if, for example, we
-begin by declaring the nutritive to be superior in
-importance to the reproductive functions. It is clear that
-this relation of importance of organs and functions must be
-collected by the study of the organized beings; and cannot
-be determined _à priori_, without depriving us of all right
-to expect a general accordance between our system and the
-arrangement of nature. We see, therefore, that our notion of
-Natural Affinity involves in it this consequence;--that it
-is not to be made out by an arbitrary subordination of characters.
-
-3. The functions and actions of living things which we
-separate from each other in our consideration, cannot be
-severed in nature. Each function is essential; Life implies
-a collection of movements, and ceases when any of these
-movements is stopped. A change in the organization
-subservient to one set of functions may lead necessarily to
-a change in the organization belonging to others. We can
-often see this necessary connexion; and from a comparison of
-the forms of organized beings,--from the way in which their
-structure changes in passing from one class to another, we
-are led to the conviction that there is some general
-principle which connects and graduates all such changes.
-When the circulatory system changes, the nervous system
-changes also: when the mode of locomotion changes, the
-respiration is also modified.
-
-4. These corresponding changes may be considered as ways in
-which the living thing is fitted to its mode of life; as
-marks of _adaptation to a purpose_; or, as it has been
-otherwise expressed, as results of the {161} _conditions of
-existence_. But at the present moment, we put forward these
-correspondencies in a different light. We adduce them as
-illustrations of what we mean by Affinity, and what we
-consider as the tendency of a Natural Classification. It has
-sometimes been asserted that if we were to classify any of
-the departments of organized nature by means of one
-function, and then by means of another, the two
-classifications, if each strictly consistent with itself,
-would be consistent with each other. Such an assertion is
-perhaps more than we are entitled to make with confidence;
-but it shows very well what is meant by Affinity. The
-disposition to believe such a general identity of all
-partial natural classifications, shows how readily we fix
-upon the notion of Affinity, as a general result of the
-causes which determine the forms of living things. When
-these causes or principles, of whatever nature they are
-conceived to be, vary so as to modify one part of the
-organization of the being, they also modify another: and
-thus the groups which exhibit this variation of the
-fundamental principles of form, are the same, whether the
-manifestation of the change be sought in one part or in
-another of the organized structure. The groups thus formed
-are related by Affinity; and in proportion as we find the
-evidence of more functions and more organs to the propriety
-of our groups, we are more and more satisfied that they are
-Natural Classes. It appears, then, that our Idea of Affinity
-involves the conviction of the _Coincidence of natural
-arrangements formed on different functions_; and this,
-rather than the principle of the Subordination of some
-characters to others, is the true ground of the natural
-method of Classification.
-
-5. For example, Cuvier, after speaking of the Subordination
-of Characters as the guide which he intends to follow in his
-arrangement of animals, interprets this principle in such a
-manner[81\8] as to make it agree nearly with the one just
-stated: 'In pursuance of what has been said on methods in
-general, we now require to {162} know what characters in
-animals are the most influential, and therefore those which
-must be made the grounds of the primary divisions.' 'These,'
-he says, 'it is clear must be those which are taken from the
-animal functions;--sensation and motion:'--But how does he
-confirm this? Not by showing that the animal functions are
-independent of, or predominant over, the vegetative, but by
-observing that they follow the same gradations.
-'Observation,' he continues, 'confirms this view, by showing
-that the degrees of development and complication of the
-animal functions agree with those of the vegetative. The
-heart and the organs of the circulation are a sort of center
-for the vegetative functions, as the brain and the trunk of
-the nervous system are for the animal functions. Now we see
-these two systems descend in the scale, and disappear the
-one with the other. In the lowest animals, when there are no
-longer any distinct nerves, there are also no longer
-distinct fibres, and the organs of digestion are simply
-hollowed out in the homogeneous mass of the body. The
-muscular system disappears even before the nervous, in
-insects; but in general the distribution of the medullary
-masses corresponds to that of the muscular instruments; a
-spinal cord, on which knots or ganglions represent so many
-brains, corresponds to a body divided into numerous rings
-and supported on pairs of members placed at different points
-of the length, and so on.
-
-[Note 81\8: _Règne Animal_, p. 55.]
-
-'This _correspondence_ of the general forms which result
-from the arrangement of the motive organs, from the
-distribution of the nervous masses, and from the energy of
-the circulatory system, must therefore form the ground of
-the first great sections by which we divide the animal kingdom.'
-
-6. Decandolle takes the same view. There must be, he says,
-_an equilibrium_ of the different functions[82\8]. And he
-exemplifies this by the case of the distinction of
-monocotyledonous and dicotyledonous plants, which being at
-first established by means of the organs of {163}
-reproduction, was afterwards found to coincide with the
-distinction of endogenous and exogenous, which depends on
-the process of nutrition. 'Thus,' he adds, '_the natural
-classes founded on one of the great functions of the
-vegetable are necessarily the same as those which are
-founded upon the other function_; and I find here a very
-useful criterion to ascertain whether a class is natural:
-namely, in order to announce that it is so, it must be
-arrived at by the two roads which vegetable organization
-presents. Thus I affirm,' he says, 'that the division of
-monocotyledons from dicotyledons, and the distinction of
-Gramineæ from Cyperaceæ, are real, because in these cases, I
-arrive at the same result by the reproductive and the
-nutritive organs; while the distinction of monopetalous and
-polypetalous, of Rhodoraceæ and Ericineæ, appears to me
-artificial, because I can arrive at it only by the
-reproductive organs.'
-
-[Note 82\8: _Theor. Elem._ p. 79.]
-
-Thus the Correspondence of the indications of different
-functions is the criterion of Natural Classes; and this
-correspondence may be considered as one of the best and most
-characteristic marks of the fundamental Idea of Affinity.
-And the Maxim by which all Systems professing to be natural
-must be tested is this:--that the _arrangement obtained from
-one set of characters coincides with the arrangement
-obtained from another set_.
-
-This Idea of Affinity, as a natural connexion among various
-species, of which connexion all particular resemblances are
-indications, has principally influenced the attempts at
-classifying the animal kingdom. The reason why the
-classification in this branch of Natural History has been
-more easy and certain than that of the vegetable world is,
-as Decandolle says[83\8], that besides the functions of
-nutrition and reproduction, which animals have in common
-with plants, they have also in addition the function of
-sensation; and thus have a new means of verification and
-concordance. But we may add, as a further reason, that the
-functions of {164} animals are necessarily much more obvious
-and intelligible to us than those of vegetables, from their
-clear resemblance to the operations which take place in our
-own bodies, to which our attention has necessarily been
-strongly directed.
-
-[Note 83\8: _Theor. Elem._ p. 80.]
-
-7. The question here offers itself, whether this Idea of
-Natural Affinity is applicable to inorganic as well as to
-organic bodies;--whether there be Natural Affinities among
-Minerals. And to this we are now enabled to reply by
-considering whether or not the principle just stated is
-applicable in such cases. And the conclusion to which our
-principle leads us is,--that there are such Natural
-Affinities among Minerals, since there are different sets of
-characters which may be taken, (and have by different
-writers been taken,) as the basis of classification. The
-hardness, specific gravity, colour, lustre, crystallization,
-and other _external_ characters, as they are termed, form
-one body of properties according to which minerals may be
-classified; as has in fact been done by Mohs, Breithaupt,
-and others. The _chemical_ constitution of the substances,
-on the other hand, may be made the principle of their
-arrangement, as was done by Haüy, and more recently, and on
-a different scheme, by Berzelius. Which of these is the true
-and natural classification? To this we answer, that _each_
-of these arrangements is true and natural, then, and then
-only, when it coincides with the other. An arrangement by
-external characters which gives us classes possessing a
-common chemical character;--a chemical order which brings
-together like and separates unlike minerals;--such
-classifications have the evidence of truth in their
-agreement with one another. Every classification of minerals
-which does not aim at and tend to such a result, is so far
-merely arbitrary; and cannot be subservient to the
-expression of general chemical and mineralogical truths,
-which is the proper purpose of such a classification.
-
-8. In the History of Mineralogy I have related the advances
-which have been made among mineralogists and chemists in
-modern times towards a System {165} possessing this
-character of truth. I have there described the mixed systems
-of Werner and Haüy;--the attempt made by Mohs to form a pure
-Natural History system;--the first and second attempt of
-Berzelius to form a pure chemical system; and the failure of
-both these attempts. But the distinct separation of the two
-elements of which science requires the coincidence threw a
-very useful light upon the subject; and the succeeding mixed
-systems, such as that of Naumann, approached much nearer to
-the true conditions of the problem than any of the preceding
-ones had done. Thus, as I have stated, several of Naumann's
-groups have both a common chemical character and great
-external resemblances. Such are his _Anhydrous Unmetallic
-Haloids_--his _Anhydrous Metallic Haloids_--_Hydrous
-Metallic Haloids_--_Oxides_ of metals--_Pyrites_--_Glances_--
-Blendes_. The existence of such groups shows that we may hope
-ultimately to obtain a classification of minerals which shall
-be both chemically significant, and agreeable to the methods
-of Natural History: although when we consider how very imperfect
-as yet our knowledge of the chemical composition of minerals is,
-we can hardly flatter ourselves that we shall arrive at such a
-result very soon.
-
-We have thus seen that in Mineralogy, as well as in the
-sciences which treat of organized bodies, we may apply the
-Idea of Natural Affinity; of which the fundamental maxim is,
-that _arrangements obtained from different sets of
-characters must coincide_.
-
-Since the notion of Affinity is thus applicable to inorganic
-as well as to organic bodies, it is plain that it is not a
-mere modification of the Idea of Organization or Function,
-although it may in some of its aspects appear to approach
-near to these other Ideas. But these Ideas, or others which
-are the foundation of them, necessarily enter in a very
-prominent and fundamental manner into all the other parts of
-Natural History. To the consideration of these, therefore,
-we shall now proceed.
-
-
-
-
-{{167}}
-BOOK IX.
-
-
-THE
-PHILOSOPHY
-OF
-BIOLOGY.
-
-
-
-
-LA vie est donc un TOURBILLON plus ou moins rapide, plus ou
-moins compliqué, dont la direction est constante, et qui
-entraine toujours des molecules de mêmes sorts, mais où les
-molecules individuelles entrent et d'où elles sortent
-continuellement, de manière que la _Forme_ du corps vivant
-lui est plus essentielle que sa _Matière_.
-
-Tant que ce mouvement subsiste, le corps où il s'exerce est
-_vivant_; _il vit_. Lorsque le mouvement s'arrête sans
-retour, le corps _meurt_.
-
-CUVIER, _Règne Animal_, s. 12.
-
-
-I REMEMBER, upon asking our famous Harvey, what induced him
-to think of a circulation of the blood, he said, that
-observing the valves in the veins of many parts of the body,
-so placed as to give a free passage to the blood towards the
-heart, but to oppose the passage of the venal blood the
-contrary way, he imagined that so provident a cause as
-nature had not thus placed so many valves without design;
-and as no design seemed more probable than that the blood
-could not well, because of the interposing valves, be sent
-by the veins to the limbs, it should be sent through the
-arteries and return through the veins when valves did not
-oppose its course that way.
-
-BOYLE, _On the Final Causes of Natural Things_. On the
-Proposition: _'Tis often allowable for a naturalist, from the
-manifest and apposite uses of the parts of animal bodies, to
-collect some of the particular ends for which the Creator
-designed them: and in some cases we may, from the known
-nature and structure of the parts, draw particular
-conjectures about the particular offices of them._
-
-
-
-{{169}}
-BOOK IX.
-
-
-THE PHILOSOPHY OF BIOLOGY.
-
-
-CHAPTER I.
-
-ANALOGY OF BIOLOGY WITH OTHER SCIENCES.
-
-
-1. IN the History of the Sciences, after treating of the
-Sciences of Classification, we proceeded to what are there
-termed the Organical Sciences, including in this term
-Physiology and Comparative Anatomy. A peculiar feature in
-this group of sciences is that they involve the notion of
-_living_ things. The notion of _Life_, however vague and
-obscure it may be in men's minds, is apprehended as a
-peculiar Idea, not resolvable into any other Ideas, such,
-for instance, as Matter and Motion. The separation between
-living creatures and inert matter, between organized and
-unorganized beings, is conceived as a positive and
-insurmountable barrier. The two classes of objects are
-considered as of a distinct kind, produced and preserved by
-different forces. Whether the Idea of Life is really thus
-original and fundamental, and whether, if so, it be one Idea
-only, or involve several, it must be the province of true
-philosophy to determine. What we shall here offer may be
-considered as an attempt to contribute something to the
-determination of these questions; but we shall perhaps be
-able to make it appear that science is at present only in
-the course of its progress towards a complete solution of
-such problems.
-
-Since the main feature of those sciences of which we have
-now to examine the philosophy is, that they {170} involve
-the Idea of Life, it would be desirable to have them
-designated by a name expressive of that circumstance. The
-word _Physiology_, by which they have most commonly been
-described, means _the Science of Nature_; and though it
-would be easy to explain, by reference to history, the train
-of thought by which the word was latterly restricted to
-_Living Nature_, it is plain that the name is,
-etymologically speaking, loose and improper. The term
-_Biology_, which means exactly what we wish to express, _the
-Science of Life_, has often been used, and has of late
-become not uncommon among good winters. I shall therefore
-venture to employ it, in most cases, rather than the word
-_Physiology_.
-
-2. As I have already intimated, one main inquiry belonging
-to the Philosophy of Biology, is concerning the Fundamental
-Idea or Ideas which the science involves. If we look back at
-the course and the results of our disquisitions respecting
-other sciences in this work, and assume, as we may
-philosophically do, that there will be some general analogy
-between those sciences and this, in their development and
-progress, we shall be enabled to anticipate in some measure
-the nature of the view which we shall now have to take. We
-have seen that in other subjects the Fundamental Ideas on
-which science depended, and the Conceptions derived from
-these, were at first vague, obscure, and confused;--that by
-gradual steps, by a constant union of thought and
-observation, these conceptions become more and more clear,
-more and more definite;--and that when they approached
-complete distinctness and precision, there were made great
-positive discoveries into which these conceptions entered;
-and thus the new precision of thought was fixed and
-perpetuated in some conspicuous and lasting truths. Thus we
-have seen how the first confused mechanical conceptions
-(Force, and the like,) were, from time to time, growing
-clearer, down to the epoch of Newton;--how true conceptions
-of Genera and of wider classes, gradually unfolded
-themselves among the botanists of the sixteenth and
-seventeenth centuries;--how the idea of Substance became
-steady enough to govern the {171} theories of chemists only
-at the epoch of Lavoisier;--how the Idea of Polarity,
-although often used by physicists and chemists, is even now
-somewhat vague and indistinct in the minds of the greater
-part of speculators. In like manner we may expect to find
-that the Idea of Life, if indeed _that_ be the governing
-Idea of the Science which treats of Living Things, will be
-found to have been gradually approaching towards a distinct
-and definite form among the physiologists of all ages up to
-the present day. And if this be the case, it may not be
-considered superfluous, with reference to so interesting a
-subject, if we employ some space in tracing historically the
-steps of this progress;--the changes by which the originally
-loose notion of Life, or of Vital Powers, became more nearly
-an Idea suited to the purposes of science.
-
-3. But we may safely carry this analogy between Biology and
-other sciences somewhat further. We have seen, in other
-sciences, that while men in their speculations were thus
-tending towards a certain peculiar Idea, but before they as
-yet saw clearly that it was peculiar and independent, they
-naturally and inevitably clothed their speculations in
-conceptions borrowed from some other extraneous idea. And
-the unsatisfactoriness of all such attempts, and the
-necessary consequence of this, a constant alteration and
-succession of such inappropriate hypotheses, were
-indications and aids of the progress which was going on
-towards a more genuine form of the science. For instance, we
-have seen that in chemistry, so long as men refused to
-recognize a peculiar and distinct kind of power in the
-_Affinity_ which binds together the elements of bodies, they
-framed to themselves a series of hypotheses, each
-constructed according to the prevalent ideas of the time, by
-which they tried to represent the relation of the compound
-to the ingredients:--first, supposing that the elements
-bestowed upon the whole qualities _resembling_ their
-own:--then giving up this supposition, and imagining that
-the properties of the body depended upon the _shape_ of the
-component particles;--then, as their view expanded, assuming
-that it was {172} not the shape, but the mechanical _forces_
-of the particles which gave the body its attributes;--and
-finally acquiescing in, or rather reluctantly admitting, the
-idea of _Affinity_, conceived as a peculiar power, different
-not only from material contact, but from any mechanical or
-dynamical attraction.
-
-Now we cannot but think it very natural, if we find that the
-history of Biology offers a series of occurrences of the
-same nature. The notions of Life in general, or of any Vital
-Functions or Vital Forces in particular, are obviously very
-loose and vague as they exist in the minds of most men. The
-discrepancies and controversies respecting the definitions
-of all such terms, which are found in all works on
-physiology, afford us abundant evidence that these notions
-are not, at least not generally, apprehended with complete
-clearness and steadiness. We shall therefore find approaches
-and advances, intermediate steps, gradually leading up to
-the greatest degree of distinctness which has yet been
-attained. And in those stages of imperfect apprehension in
-which the notions of Life and of Vital Powers are still too
-loose and unformed to be applied independently, we may
-expect to find them supported and embodied by means of
-hypotheses borrowed from other subjects, and thus, made so
-distinct and substantial as to supply at least a temporary
-possibility of scientific reasoning upon the laws of life.
-
-4. For example, if we suppose that men begin to speculate
-upon the properties of living things, not acknowledging a
-peculiar Vital Power, but making use successively of the
-knowledge supplied by the study of other subjects, we may
-easily imagine a series of hypotheses along which they would pass.
-
-They would probably, first, in this as in other sciences,
-have their thoughts occupied by vague and _mystical_ notions
-in which material and spiritual agency, natural and
-supernatural events, were mixed together without
-discrimination, and without any clear notion at all. But as
-they acquired a more genuine perception of the nature of
-**knowledge, they would naturally try to explain vital
-motions and processes by means of {173} such forces as they
-had learnt the existence of from other sciences. They might
-first have a _mechanical_ hypothesis, in which the
-mechanical _Forces_ of the solids and fluids which compose
-organized bodies should be referred to, as the most
-important influences in the process of life. They might then
-attend to the actions which the fluids exercise in virtue of
-their _Affinity_, and might thus form a _chemical_ theory.
-When they had proved the insufficience of these hypotheses,
-borrowed from the powers which matter exhibits in other
-cases, they might think themselves authorized to assume some
-peculiar power or agency, still material, and thus they
-would have the hypothesis of a _Vital Fluid_. And if they
-were driven to reject this, they might think that there was
-no resource but to assume an immaterial principle of life,
-and thus they would arrive at the doctrine of an _Animal Soul_.
-
-Now, through the cycle of hypotheses which we have thus
-supposed, physiology has actually passed. The conclusions to
-which the most philosophical minds have been led by a survey
-of this progress is, that by the failure of all these
-theories, men have exhausted this path of inquiry, and shown
-that scientific truth is to be sought in some other manner.
-But before I proceed further to illustrate this result, it
-will be proper, as I have already stated, to exhibit
-historically the various hypotheses which I have described.
-In doing this I shall principally follow the _History of
-Medicine_ of Sprengel. It is only by taking for my guide a
-physiologist of acknowledged science and judgment, that I
-can hope, on such a subject, to avoid errours of detail. I
-proceed now to give in succession an account of the
-Mystical, the Iatrochemical, the Iatromathematical, and the
-Vital-Fluid Schools; and finally of the Psychical School,
-who hold the Vital Powers to be derived from the Soul
-(_Psyche_).
-
-
-
-{{174}}
-CHAPTER II.
-
-SUCCESSIVE BIOLOGICAL HYPOTHESES.
-
-
-SECT. I.--_The Mystical School._
-
-IN order to abbreviate as much as can conveniently be done
-the historical view which I have now to take, I shall
-altogether pass over the physiological speculations of the
-ancients, and begin my survey with the general revival of
-science in modern times.
-
-We need not dwell long on the fantastical and unsubstantial
-doctrines concerning physiology which prevailed in the
-sixteenth century, and which flowed in a great measure from
-the fertile but ill-regulated imaginations of the
-cultivators of Alchemy and Magic. One of the prominent
-doctors of this school is the celebrated Paracelsus, whose
-doctrines contained a combination of biblical
-interpretations, visionary religious notions, fanciful
-analogies, and bold experiments in practical medicine. The
-opinion of a close but mystical resemblance of parts between
-the universe and the human body,--the _Macrocosm_ and the
-_Microcosm_,--as these two things, thus compared, were
-termed, had probably come down from the Neoplatonists; it
-was adopted by the Paracelsists[1\9], and connected with
-various astrological dreams and cabbalistic riddles. A
-succession of later Paracelsists[2\9], Rosicrucians, and
-other fanatics of the same kind, continued into the
-seventeenth century. Upon their notions was founded the
-pretension of curing wounds by a sympathetic powder, which
-Sir Kenelm Digby, among others, asserted; while animal
-magnetism, and the transfer of diseases from one person to
-another[3\9], were maintained by others of this {175}
-school. They held, too, the doctrines of _astral bodies_
-corresponding to each terrestrial body; and of the
-_signatures_ of plants, that is, certain features in their
-external form by which their virtues might be known. How
-little advantage or progress real physiology could derive
-from speculations of this kind may be seen from this, that
-their tendency was to obliterate the distinction between
-living and lifeless things: according to Paracelsus, all
-things are alive, eat, drink, and excrete; even minerals and
-fluids[4\9]. According to him and his school, besides
-material and immaterial beings, there are _elementary
-Spirit_s which hold an intermediate place, _Sylvans_,
-_Nymphs_, _Gnomes_, _Salamanders_, &c. by whose agency
-various processes of enchantment may be achieved, and things
-apparently supernatural explained. Thus this spiritualist
-scheme dealt with a world of its own by means of fanciful
-inventions and mystical visions, instead of making any step
-in the study of nature.
-
-[Note 1\9: Spr. iii. 456.]
-
-[Note 2\9: _Ib._ iv. 270.]
-
-[Note 3\9: _Ib._ iv. 276.]
-
-[Note 4\9: Spr. iii. 458. Parac. _De Vita Rerum Naturalium_, p. 889.]
-
-Perhaps, however, one of the most fantastical of the
-inventions of Paracelsus may be considered as indicating a
-perception of a peculiar character in the vital powers.
-According to him, the business of digestion is performed by
-a certain demon whom he calls _Archæus_, who has his abode
-in the stomach, and who, by means of his alchemical
-processes, separates the nutritive from the harmful part of
-our food, and makes it capable of assimilation[5\9]. This
-fanciful notion was afterwards adopted and expanded by Van
-Helmont[6\9]. According to him the stomach and spleen are
-both under the direction of this Master-spirit, and these
-two organs form a sort of _Duumvirate_ in the body.
-
-[Note 5\9: _Ib._ iii. 468.]
-
-[Note 6\9: _Ib._ iv. 302.]
-
-But though we may see in such writers occasional gleams of
-physiological thought, the absence of definite physical
-relations in the speculations thus promulgated was
-necessarily intolerable to men of sound understanding and
-scientific tendencies. Such men naturally took hold of that
-part of the phenomena of life which could be most distinctly
-conceived, and {176} which could be apparently explained by
-means of the sciences then cultivated; and this was the part
-which appeared to be reducible to chemical conceptions and
-doctrines. It will readily be supposed that the processes of
-chemistry have a considerable bearing upon physiological
-processes, and might, till their range was limited by a
-sound investigation, be supposed to have still more than
-they really had; and thus a Physiology was formed which
-depended mainly upon Chemistry, and the school which held
-this doctrine has been called the _Iatrochemical_ School.
-
-
-SECT. II.--_The Iatrochemical School._
-
-That all physical properties, and therefore chemical
-relations, have a material influence on physiological
-results, was already recognized, though dimly, in the
-Galenic doctrine of the 'four elementary qualities.' But at
-the time of Paracelsus, chemical action was more distinctly
-than before separated from other kinds of physical action;
-and therefore a physiological doctrine, founded upon
-chemistry, and freed from the extravagance and mysticism of
-the Paracelsists, was a very promising path of speculation.
-Andrew Libavius[7\9] of Halle, in Saxony, Physician and
-Teacher in the Gymnasium at Koberg, is pointed out by
-Sprengel as the person who began to cultivate chemistry, as
-distinct from the theosophic fantasies of his predecessors;
-and Angelus Sala of Vienna[8\9], as his successor. The
-latter has the laudable distinction of having rejected the
-prevalent conceits about a potable gold, a universal
-medicine, and the like[9\9]. In Germany already at the
-beginning of the seventeenth century a peculiar chair of
-_Chymiatria_ was already created at Marpurg: and many in
-various places pursued the same studies, till, in the middle
-of the seventeenth century, we come to Lemery[10\9], the
-principal reformer of pharmaceutical chemistry. But we are
-not here so much concerned {177} with the practical as with
-the theoretical parts of Iatrochemistry; and hence we pass
-on to Sylvius[11\9] and his system.
-
-[Note 7\9: Spr. iii. 550.]
-
-[Note 8\9: _Ib._ iv. 281.]
-
-[Note 9\9: _Ib._ iv. 283.]
-
-[Note 10\9: _Ib._ iv. 291.]
-
-[Note 11\9: Spr. iv. 336.]
-
-The opinion that chemistry had an important bearing upon
-physiology did not, however, begin with Sylvius. Paracelsus,
-among his extravagant absurdities, did some service to
-medicine by drawing attention to this important truth. He
-used[12\9] chemical principles for the explanation of
-particular diseases: most or all diseases according to him,
-arise from the effervescence of salts, from the combustion
-of sulphur, or from the coagulation of mercury. His
-medicines were chemical preparations; and it was[13\9] an
-undeniable advantage of the Paracelsian doctrine that
-chemistry thus became indispensable to the physician. We
-still retain a remnant of the chemical nomenclature of
-Paracelsus in the term _tartar_, denoting the stony
-concretion which forms on the teeth[14\9]. According to him
-there is a certain substance, the basis of all diseases
-which arise from a thickening of the juices and a collection
-of earthy matter; and this substance he calls _Tartarus_,
-because 'it burns like the fire of hell.' Helmont, the
-successor of Paracelsus in many absurdities, also followed
-him in the attempt to give a chemical account, however loose
-and wild, of the functions of the human body; and is by
-Sprengel considered, with all his extravagancies, as a
-meritorious and important discoverer. The notion of the
-fermentation of fluids[15\9], and of the aërial product
-thence resulting, to which he gave the name of _Gas_, forms
-an important part of his doctrines; and of the six
-digestions which he assumes, the _first_ prepares an acid,
-which is neutralized by the gall when it reaches the
-duodenum, and this constitutes the _second_ digestion.
-
-[Note 12\9: _Ib._ iii. 472.]
-
-[Note 13\9: _Ib._ iii. 482.]
-
-[Note 14\9: _Ib._ iii. 475.]
-
-[Note 15\9: Vol. v. 315.]
-
-I have already, in the History of Chemistry[16\9], stated,
-that the doctrine of the opposition of acid and alkali, the
-great step which theoretical chemistry owes to Sylvius, was
-first brought into view as a physiological {178} tenet,
-although we had then to trace its consequences in another
-science. The explanation of all the functions of the animal
-system, both healthy and morbid, by means of this and other
-chemical doctrines, and the prescription of methods of cure
-founded upon such explanations, form the scheme of the
-_iatrochemical_ school; a school which almost engrossed the
-favour of European physicians during the greater part of the
-seventeenth century.
-
-[Note 16\9: _Hist. Ind. Sc._ b. xiii. c. 2.]
-
-Sylvius taught medicine at Leyden, from the year 1658, with
-so much success, that Boerhaave alone surpassed him[17\9].
-His notions, although he piqued himself on their
-originality, were manifestly suggested in no small degree
-(as all such supposed novelties are) by the speculations of
-his predecessors, and the spirit of the times. Like
-Helmont[18\9], he considers digestion as consisting in a
-fermentation; but he states it more definitely as the
-effervescence of an acid, supplied by the saliva and the
-pancreatic juice, with the alkali of the gall. By various
-other hypothetical processes, all of a chemical nature, the
-blood becomes a collection of various juices, which are the
-subjects of the speculations of the iatrochemists, to the
-entire neglect of the solid parts of the body. Diseases were
-accounted for by a supposed prevalence of one or the other
-of the acrid principles, the acid or the alkaline: and
-Sylvius[19\9] was bold enough to found upon these hypotheses
-practical methods of cure, which were in the highest degree
-mischievous.
-
-[Note 17\9: Spr. iv. 336.]
-
-[Note 18\9: _Ib._ 338.]
-
-[Note 19\9: _Ib._ iv. 345.]
-
-The Sylvian doctrine was often combined with some of the
-notions of the Cartesian system of philosophy; but this
-mixture I shall not notice, since my present object is to
-trace the history of a mere chemical physiology as one of
-the unsuccessful attempts at a philosophy of life. With
-various modifications, this doctrine was diffused over
-Europe. It gave rise to several controversies, which turned
-upon the questions of the novelty of the doctrine, and the
-use of chemical remedies to which it pointed, as well as
-upon its {179} theoretical truth. We need not dwell long
-upon these controversies, although they were carried on with
-no small vehemence in their time. Thus the school of Paris
-opposed all innovation, remained true to the Galenic
-dogmatism, and declared itself earnestly against all
-combination of chemistry with medicine; and even against the
-chemical preparation of medicaments. Guy Patin, a celebrated
-and learned professor of that day, declares[20\9] that the
-chemists are no better than forgers, and ought to be
-punished as such. The use of antimonial medicines was a main
-point of dispute between the iatrochemists and their
-opponents; Patin maintained that more men had been destroyed
-by antimony than by the thirty years' war of Germany; and
-endeavoured to substantiate this assertion by collecting all
-such cases in his _Martyrologium Antimonii_. It must have
-been a severe blow to Patin when[21\9] in 1666, the Doctors
-of the Faculty of Paris, assembled by command of the
-parliament, declared, by a majority of ninety-two voices,
-that the use of antimonial medicines was allowable and
-laudable, and when all attempts to set aside this decision failed.
-
-[Note 20\9: Spr. 349.]
-
-[Note 21\9: _Ib._ iv. 350.]
-
-Florentius Schuyl of Leyden sought to recommend the
-iatrochemical doctrines, by maintaining that they were to be
-found in the Hippocratic writings; nor was it difficult to
-give a chemical interpretation of the humoral pathology of
-the ancients. The Italian[22\9] physicians also, for the
-most part, took this line, and attempted to show the
-agreement of the principles of the ancient school of
-medicine with the new chemical notions. This, indeed, is the
-usual manner in which the diffusion of new theoretical ideas
-becomes universal.
-
-[Note 22\9: _Ib._ 368.]
-
-The progress of the chemical school of medicine in
-England[23\9] requires our more especial notice. Willis was
-the most celebrated champion of this sect. He assumed, but
-with modifications of his own, the three Paracelsian
-principles, Salt, Sulphur, and Mercury; considered digestion
-as the effect of an acid, and {180} explained other parts of
-the animal economy by distillation, fermentation, and the
-like. All diseases arise from the want of the requisite
-_ferment_; and the physician, he says[24\9], may be compared
-to a vintner, since both the one and the other have to take
-care that the necessary fermentations go on, that no foreign
-matter mixes itself with the wine of life, to interrupt or
-derange those operations. In the middle of the seventeenth
-century, medicine had reached a point in which the life of
-the animal body was considered as merely a chemical process;
-the wish to explain everything on known principles left no
-recognized difference between organized and unorganized
-bodies, and diseases were treated according to this delusive
-notion. The condition of chemistry itself during this
-period, though not one of brilliant progress, was
-sufficiently stable and flourishing to give a plausibility
-to any speculation which was founded on chemical principles;
-and the real influence of these principles in the animal
-frame could not be denied.
-
-[Note 23\9: _Ib._ 353.]
-
-[Note 24\9: Spr. 354.]
-
-The iatrochemists were at first resisted, as we have seen,
-by the adherents of the ancient schools; they were attacked
-on various grounds, and finally deposed from them ascendancy
-by another sect, which we have to speak of, as the
-iatromathematical, or mechanical school. This sect was no
-less unsatisfactory and erroneous in its positive doctrines
-than the chemists had been; for the animal frame is no more
-a mere machine than a mere laboratory: but it promoted the
-cause of truth, by detecting and exposing the insufficient
-explanations and unproved assertions of the reigning theory.
-
-Boyle was one of the persons who first raised doubts against
-the current chemical doctrines of his time, as we have
-elsewhere noted; but his objections had no peculiar
-physiological import. Herman Coming[25\9], the most learned
-physician of his time, a contemporary with Sylvius, took a
-view more pertinent to our present object; for he not only
-rejected the alchemical {181} and hermetical medicines, but
-taught expressly that chemistry, in its then existing
-condition, was better fitted to be of use in the practice of
-pharmacy, than in the theories of physiology and pathology.
-He made the important assertion, also, that chemical
-principles do not pre-exist _as such_ in the animal body;
-and that there are higher powers which operate in the
-organic world, and which do not depend on the form and
-mixture of matter.
-
-[Note 25\9: _Ib._ iv. 361.]
-
-Attempts were made to prove the acid and alkaline nature of
-the fluids of the human body by means of experiments, as by
-John Viridet of Geneva[26\9], and by Raimond
-Vieussens[27\9], the latter of whom maintained that he had
-extracted an acid from the blood, and detected a ferment in
-the stomach. In opposition to him, Hecquet, a disciple of
-the iatromathematical school, endeavoured to prove that
-digestion was performed, not by means of fermentation, but
-by trituration. Hecquet's own opinions cannot be defended;
-but his objections to the chemical doctrines, and his
-assertion of the difference of chemical and organical
-processes, are evidences of just thought[28\9].
-
-[Note 26\9: Spr. iv. 329.]
-
-[Note 27\9: _Ib._ 350, (1715).]
-
-[Note 28\9: _Ib._ 401.]
-
-The most important opponents of the iatrochemical school
-were Pitcairn in England, Bohn and Hoffman in Germany, and
-Boerhaave in Holland. These eminent physicians, about the
-end of the seventeenth century, argued on the same grounds
-of observation, that digestion is not fermentation, and that
-the Sylvian accounts of the origin of diseases by means of
-acid and alkali are false. The arguments and authority of
-these and other persons finally gained an ascendancy in the
-medical world, and soon after this period we may consider
-the reign of the chemical school of physiology as past. In
-fact, the attempts to prove its assertions experimentally
-were of the feeblest kind, and it had no solid basis on
-which it could rest, so as to resist the shock of the next
-hypothesis which the progress of the physical sciences might
-impel against it. We may, therefore, now consider the
-opinion of the mere {182} chemical nature of the vital
-processes as disproved, and we proceed next to notice the
-history of another unsuccessful essay to reduce vital
-actions to known actions of another kind.
-
-
-SECT. III.--_The Iatromathematical School._
-
-In the first Section of this chapter, we enumerated the
-biological hypotheses which at first present themselves, as
-the mystical, the mechanical, the chemical. We might have
-expected that they should occur to men's minds in the order
-thus stated: and in fact they did so; for the physiology of
-the ancient materialists, as Democritus and Lucretius, is
-mechanical so far as it is at all distinct in its views, and
-thus the mechanical preceded the chemical doctrine. But in
-modern times, the fluid or chemical physiology was developed
-before the solid or mechanical: of which the reason appears
-to have been this;--that Mechanics and Chemistry began to
-assume a scientific character about the same time; and that
-of the two, Chemistry not only appeared at first sight more
-applicable to the functions of the body, because all the
-more rapid changes appear to be connected with modifications
-of the fluids of the animal system, but also, by its wider
-range of facts and more indefinite principles, afforded a
-better temporary refuge for the mind when perplexed by the
-difficulties and mysteries which spring out of the
-speculations concerning life. But if Chemistry was thus at
-first a more inviting field for the physiologist, Mechanics
-soon became more attractive in virtue of the splendid
-results obtained by the schools of Galileo and Newton. And
-when the insufficiency of chemical physiology was discovered
-by trial, as we have seen it was, the hope naturally arose,
-that the mechanical principles which had explained so many
-of the phenomena of the external universe might also be
-found, applicable to the smaller world of material
-life;--that the _microcosm_ as well as the _macrocosm_ might
-have its mechanical principles. From this hope sprung the
-{183} Iatromathematical School, or school of Mechanical
-Physiologists.
-
-We may, however, divide this school into two parts, the
-Italian, and the Cartesio-Newtonian sect. The former
-employed themselves in calculating and analysing a number of
-the properties of the animal frame which are undoubtedly
-mechanical; the latter, somewhat intoxicated by the supposed
-triumphs of the corpuscular philosophy, endeavoured to
-extend these to physiology, and for this purpose introduced
-into the subject many arbitrary and baseless hypotheses. I
-will very briefly mention some of the writers of both these sects.
-
-The main points to which the Italian or genuine Mechanical
-Physiologists attended, were the application of mechanical
-calculations to the force of the muscles, and of hydraulical
-reasonings to the motion of the fluids of the animal system.
-The success with which Galileo and his disciples had pursued
-these branches of mechanical philosophy, and the ascendancy
-which they had obtained, first in Italy, and then in other
-lands, made such speculations highly interesting. Borelli
-may be considered as the first great name in his line, and
-his book, _De Motu Animalium_, (_Opus Posthumum_, Romæ,
-1680,) is even now a very instructive treatise on the forces
-and action of the bones and muscles. This, certainly one of
-the most valuable portions of mechanical physiology, has not
-even yet been so fully developed as it deserves, although
-John Bernoulli[29\9] and his son Daniel[30\9] applied to it
-the resources of analysis, and Pemberton[31\9] in England,
-pursued the same subject. Other of these mechanico-physiological
-problems consisted in referring the pressure of the blood
-and of the breath to hydrostatical principles. In this
-manner Borelli was led to assert that the muscles of the
-heart exert a force of 180,000 pounds[32\9]. But a little
-later, Keill reduced this force {184} to a few ounces[33\9].
-Keill and others attempted to determine, on similar
-principles, the velocity of the blood; we need not notice
-the controversies which thus arose, since there is not
-involved in them any peculiar physiological principle.
-
-[Note 29\9: _De Motu Musculorum_.]
-
-[Note 30\9: _Act. Acad. Petrop._]
-
-[Note 31\9: _Course of Physiology_, 1773.]
-
-[Note 32\9: Spr. iv. 110.]
-
-[Note 33\9: Spr. iv. 443.]
-
-The peculiar character of the iatromathematical school, as
-an attempt at physiological theory, is more manifest in its
-other section, which we have called the Cartesio-Newtonian.
-The Cartesian system pretended to account for the
-appearances and changes of bodies by means of the size,
-figure, and motion of their minute particles. And though
-this system in its progress towards the intellectual empire
-of Europe was suddenly overturned by the rise of the
-Newtonian philosophy, these corpuscular doctrines rather
-gained than lost by the revolution; for the Newtonian
-philosophy enlarged the powers of the corpuscular
-hypothesis, by adding the effects of the attractive and
-repulsive forces of particles to those of their form and
-motion. By this means, although Newton's discoveries did not
-in fact augment the probability of the corpuscular
-hypothesis, they so far increased its plausibility, that
-this hypothesis found favour both with Newton himself and
-his contemporaries, no less than it had done with the
-Cartesians.
-
-The attempt to apply this corpuscular hypothesis to
-physiology was made by Des Cartes himself. The general
-character of such speculations may easily be guessed[34\9].
-The secretions are effected by the organs operating after
-the manner of sieves. Bound particles pass through
-cylindrical tubes, pyramidal ones through triangular pores,
-cubical particles through square apertures, and thus
-different kinds of matter are separated. Similar
-speculations were pursued by other mathematicians: the
-various diameter of the vessels[35\9], their curvatures,
-folds, and angles, were made subjects of calculation.
-Bellini, Donzellini, Gulielmini, in Italy; Perrault, Dodart,
-in France; Cole, Keill, Jurin, in England, were the
-principal cultivators of such studies. {185} In the earlier
-part of the eighteenth century, physiological theorists
-considered it as almost self-evident that their science
-required them to reason concerning the size and shape of the
-particles of the fluids, the diameter and form of the
-invisible vessels. Such was, for instance, the opinion of
-Cheyne[36\9], who held that acute fevers arise from the
-obstruction of the glands, which occasions a more vehement
-motion of the blood. Mead, the physician of the King, and
-the friend of Newton, in like manner explained the effects
-of poisons by hypotheses concerning the form of their
-particles[37\9], as we have already seen in speaking of chemistry.
-
-[Note 34\9: _Ib._ 329.]
-
-[Note 35\9: _Ib._ 432.]
-
-[Note 36\9: Spr. iv. 223.]
-
-[Note 37\9: _ Mechanical Account of Poisons_, 1702.]
-
-It is not necessary for us to dwell longer on this subject,
-or to point out the total insufficiency of the mere
-mechanical physiology. The iatrochemists had neglected the
-effect of the solids of the living frame; the
-iatromathematicians attended only to these[38\9]. And even
-these were considered only as canals, as cords, as levers,
-as lifeless machines. These reasoners never looked for any
-powers of a higher order than the cohesion, the resistance,
-the gravity, the attraction, which operate in inert matter.
-If the chemical school assimilated the physician to a
-vintner or brewer, the mechanical physiologists made him an
-hydraulic engineer; and, in fact, several of the
-iatromathematicians were at the same time teachers of
-engineering and of medicine.
-
-[Note 38\9: Spr. iv. 419.]
-
-Several of the reasoners of this school combined chemical
-with their mechanical principles; but it would throw no
-additional light upon the subject to give any account of
-these, and I shall therefore go on to speak of the next form
-of the attempt to explain the processes of life.
-
-
-SECT. IV.--_The Vital-Fluid School._
-
-I speak here, not of that opinion which assumes some kind of
-fluid or ether as the means of {186} communication along the
-_nerves_ in particular, but of the hypothesis that _all_ the
-peculiar functions of _life_ depend upon some subtile
-ethereal substance diffused through the frame;--not of a
-_Nervous_ Fluid, but of a _Vital_ Fluid. Again, I
-distinguish this opinion from the doctrine of an
-_immaterial_ vital power or principle, an Animal Soul, which
-will be the subject of the next Section: nor is this
-distinction insignificant; for a material element, however
-subtile, however much spiritualized, must still act
-everywhere according to the same laws; whereas we do not
-conceive an immaterial spirit or soul to be subject to this
-necessity.
-
-The iatromathematical school could explain to their own
-satisfaction how motions, once begun, were transferred and
-modified; but in many organs of the living frame there
-seemed to be a power of beginning motion, which is beyond
-all mere mechanical action. This led to the assumption of a
-Principle of a higher kind, though still material. Such a
-Principle was asserted by Frederick Hoffmann, who was born
-at Halle, in 1660[39\9], and became Professor of Medicine at
-the newly established University there in 1694. According to
-him[40\9], the reason of the greater activity of organized
-bodies lies in the influence of a material substance of
-extreme subtilty, volatility, and energy. This is, he holds,
-no other than the Ether, which, diffused through all nature,
-produces in plants the bud, the secretion and motion of the
-juices, and is separated from the blood and lodged in the
-brain of animals[41\9]. From this, acting through the
-nerves, must be derived all the actions of the organs in the
-animal frame; for when the influence of the nerve upon the
-muscle ceases, muscular motion ceases also.
-
-[Note 39\9: Spr. v. 254.]
-
-[Note 40\9: _Ib._ v. 257.]
-
-[Note 41\9: _De Differentiâ Organismi et Mechanismi_, pp. 48, 67.]
-
-The mode of operation of this vital fluid was, however, by
-no means steadily apprehended by Hoffmann and his followers.
-Its operations are so far mechanical[42\9] that all effects
-are reduced to motion, yet they {187} cannot be explained
-according to known mechanical laws. At one time the effects
-are said to take place according to laws of a Higher
-Mechanics which are still to be discovered[43\9]. At another
-time, in complete contradiction of the general spirit of the
-system, metaphysical conceptions are introduced: each
-particle of the vital fluid is said to have a determined
-_idea_ of the whole mechanism and organism[44\9], and
-according to this, it forms the body and preserves it by its
-motion. By means of this fluid the soul operates upon the
-body, and the instincts and the passions have their source
-in this material sensitive soul. This attribution of ideas
-to the particles of the fluid is less unaccountable when we
-recollect that something of the same kind is admitted into
-Leibnitz's system, whose Monads have also ideas.
-
-[Note 42\9: Spr. v. 262, 3.]
-
-[Note 43\9: Hoffmann, _Opp._ Vol. v. p. 123.]
-
-[Note 44\9: _De Diff. Organ. et Mechan._ p. 81.]
-
-Notwithstanding its inconsistencies, Hoffmann's system was
-received with very general favour both in Germany and in the
-rest of Europe; the more so, inasmuch as it fell in very
-well with the philosophy both of Leibnitz and of Newton. The
-Newtonians were generally inclined to identify the Vital
-Fluid with the Ether, of which their master was so strongly
-disposed to assume the existence: and indeed he himself
-suggested this identification.
-
-When the discoveries made respecting Electricity in the
-course of the eighteenth century had familiarized men with
-the notion of a pervading subtile agent, invisible,
-intangible, yet producing very powerful effects in every
-part of nature, physiologists also caught at the suggestion
-of such an agent, and tried, by borrowing or imitating it,
-to aid the imperfection of their notions of the vital
-powers. The Vital Principle[45\9] was imagined to be a
-substance of the same kind, by some to be the same
-substance, with the Electric Fluid. By its agency all these
-processes in organized bodies were accounted for which
-cannot be {188} explained by mechanical or chemical laws, as
-the secretion of various matters (tears, milk, bile, &c.)
-from an homogeneous fluid, the blood; the production of
-animal heat, digestion, and the like. According to John
-Hunter, this attenuated substance pervaded the blood itself,
-as well as the solid organic frame; and the changes which
-take place in the blood which has flowed out of the veins
-into a basin are explained by saying that it is, for a time,
-till this vital fluid evaporates, truly alive.
-
-[Note 45\9: Prichard, _On the Doctrine of a Vital
-Principle_, p. 12.]
-
-The notion of a Vital Fluid appears also to be favourably
-looked upon by Cuvier; although with him this doctrine is
-mainly put forwards in the form of a Nervous Fluid. Yet in
-the following passage he extends the operation of such an
-agent to all the vital functions[46\9]: 'We have only to
-suppose that all the medullary and nervous parts produce the
-Nervous Agent, and that they alone conduct it; that is, that
-it can only be transmitted by them, and that it is changed
-or consumed by their actions. Then everything appears
-simple. A detached portion of muscle preserves for some time
-its irritability, on account of the portion of nerve which
-always adheres to it. The sensibility and the irritability
-reciprocally exhaust each other by their exercise, because
-they change or consume the same agent. All the interior
-motions of digestion, secretion, excretion, participate in
-this exhaustion, or may produce it. All local excitation of
-the nerves brings thither more blood by augmenting the
-irritability of the arteries, and the afflux of blood
-augments the real sensibility by augmenting the production
-of the nervous agent. Hence the pleasures of titillations,
-the pains of inflammation. The particular sensations
-increase in the same manner and by the same causes; and the
-imagination exercises, (still by means of the nerves,) upon
-the internal fibres of the arteries or other parts, and
-through them on the sensations, an action analogous to that
-of the will upon the voluntary motions. As each exterior
-sense is exclusively disposed {189} to admit the substances
-which it is to perceive, so each interior organ, secretory
-or other, is also more excitable by some one agent than by
-another: and hence arises what has been called the _proper
-sensibility_ or _proper life of the organs_; and the
-influence of specifics which, introduced into the general
-circulation, affect only certain parts. In fine, if the
-nervous agent cannot become sensible to us, the reason is
-that all sensation requires that this agent should be
-altered in some way or other; and it cannot alter itself.
-
-[Note 46\9: _Hist. Sc. Nat. depuis_ 1789, i. 214.]
-
-'Such is the summary idea which we may at present form of
-the mutual and general working of the vital powers in
-animals.'
-
-Against the doctrine of a Vital Fluid as one uniform
-material agent pervading the organic frame, an argument has
-been stated which points out extremely well the
-philosophical objection to such an hypothesis[47\9]. If the
-Vital Principle be the _same_ in all parts of the body, how
-does it happen, it is asked, that the secretions are so
-_different_? How do the particles in the blood, separated
-from their old compounds and united into new ones, under the
-same influence, give origin to all the different fluids
-which are produced by the glands? The liver secretes bile,
-the lacrymal gland, tears, and so on. Is the Vital Principle
-different in all these organs? To assert this, is to
-multiply nominal principles without limit, and without any
-advance in the explanation of facts. Is the Vital Principle
-the same, but its operation modified by the structure of the
-organ? We have then two unknown causes, the Vital Principle
-and the Organic Structure, to account, for the effect. By
-such a multiplication of hypotheses nothing is gained. We
-may as well say at once, that the structure of the organ,
-acting by laws yet unknown, is the cause of the peculiar
-secretion. It is as easy to imagine this structure acting to
-produce the whole effect, as it is to imagine it modifying
-the activity of another agent. Thus the hypothesis of the
-Vital Fluid in this form explains nothing, and does not in
-any {190} way help onwards the progress of real biological
-knowledge.
-
-[Note 47\9: Prichard, _On a Vital Principle_, p. 98.]
-
-The hypothesis of an _immaterial_ vital principle must now be
-considered.
-
-
-SECT. V.--_The Psychical School._
-
-The doctrine of an Animal Soul as the principle which makes
-the operations of organic different from those of inorganic
-matter, is quite distinct from, and we may say independent
-of, the doctrine of the soul as the intelligent, moral,
-responsible part of man's nature. It is the former doctrine
-alone of which we have here to speak, and those who thus
-hold the existence of an immaterial agent as the cause of
-the phenomena of life, I term the _Psychical School_.
-
-Such a view of the constitution of living things is very
-ancient. For instance, Aristotle's Treatise '_On the Soul_,'
-goes entirely upon the supposition that the Soul is the
-cause of motion, and he arrives at the conclusion that there
-are different _parts_ in the Soul; the _nutritive_ or
-_vegetative_, the _sensitive_, and the _rational_[48\9].
-
-[Note 48\9: Aristotle. Περὶ Ψυχῆς, ii. 2.]
-
-But this doctrine is more instructive to us, when it appears
-as the antagonist of other opinions concerning the nature of
-life. In this form it comes before us as promulgated by
-Stahl, whom we have already noticed as one of the great
-discoverers in chemistry. Born in the same year as Hoffmann,
-and appointed at his suggestion professor at the same time
-in the same new university of Halle, he soon published a
-rival physiological theory. In a letter to Lucas Schröck,
-the president of the Academy of Naturalists, he describes
-the manner in which he was led to form a system for
-himself[49\9]. Educated in the tenets of Sylvius and Willis,
-according to which all diseases are derived from the acidity
-of the fluids, Stahl, when a young student, often wondered
-how these fluids, so liable to be polluted and corrupted,
-are so wonderfully preserved through innumerable external
-influences, and seem to {191} be far less affected by these
-than by age, constitution, passion. No material cause could,
-he thought, produce such effects. No attention to mechanism
-or chemistry alone could teach us the true nature and laws
-of organization.
-
-[Note 49\9: Spr. v. 303.]
-
-So far as Stahl recognized the influence, in living bodies,
-of something beyond the range of mechanics and chemistry,
-there can be no doubt of the sound philosophy of his views;
-but when he proceeds to found a positive system of
-physiology, his tenets become more precarious. The basis of
-his theory is this[50\9]: the body has, as body, no power to
-move itself, and must always be put in motion by immaterial
-substances. All motion is a spiritual act[51\9]. The source
-of all activity in the organic body, from which its
-preservation, the permanency of its composition, and all its
-other functions proceed, is an immaterial being, which Stahl
-calls the _Soul_; because, as he says, when the effects are
-so similar, he will not multiply powers without necessity.
-Of this principle, he says, as the Hippocratians said of
-Nature, that 'it does without teaching what it ought to
-do[52\9],' and does it 'without consideration[53\9].' These
-ancient tenets Stahl interprets in such a manner that even
-the involuntary motions proceed from the soul, though
-without reflection or clear consciousness. It is indeed
-evident, that there are many customary motions and
-sensations which are perfectly rational, yet not the objects
-of distinct consciousness: and thus instinctive motions, and
-those of which we are quite unconscious, may still be
-connected with reason. The questions which in this view
-offer themselves, as, how the soul passes from the mother to
-the child, he dismisses as unprofitable[54\9]. He considers
-nutrition and secretion as the work of the soul. The
-corpuscular theory and the doctrine of animal spirits {192}
-are, he rightly observes, mere hypotheses, which are
-arbitrary in their character, and only shift the difficulty.
-For, if the animal spirits are not matter, how can they
-explain the action of an immaterial substance on the body;
-and if they are matter, how are they themselves acted on?
-
-[Note 50\9: Spr. v. 308]
-
-[Note 51\9: _Ib._ v. 314.]
-
-[Note 52\9: Stahl, περὶ φύσεως ἀπαίδευτου.]
-
-[Note 53\9: οὐκ ἐκ διανοίης.]
-
-[Note 54\9: This was of course an obvious problem. Harvey,
-_On Generation_ Exercise 27, p. 148, teaches, 'That the egg
-is not the production of the womb, but of the soul.']
-
-This doctrine of the action of the soul on the body, was
-accepted by many persons, especially by the
-iatromathematicians, who could not but feel the
-insufficiency of their system without some such supplement:
-such were Cheyne and Mead. In Germany, Stahl's disciples in
-physiology were for the most part inconsiderable
-persons[55\9]. Several Englishmen who speculated concerning
-the metaphysics as well as the physiology of Sensation and
-Motion, inclined to this psychical view, as Porterfield and
-Whytt. Among the French, Boissier de Sauvages was the most
-zealous defender of the Stahlian system. Actions, he
-says[56\9], which belong to the preservation of life are
-determined by a moral not a mechanical necessity. They
-proceed from the soul, but cannot be controlled by it, as
-the starting from fear, or the trembling at danger. Unzer, a
-physician at Altona[57\9], was also a philosophical
-Stahlian[58\9].
-
-[Note 55\9: Spr. v. 339, &c.]
-
-[Note 56\9: _Ib._ 358.]
-
-[Note 57\9: A.D. 1799]
-
-[Note 58\9: Spr. v. 360.]
-
-We need not dwell on the opposition which was offered to
-this theory, first by Hoffmann, and afterwards by Haller.
-The former of these had promulgated, as we have seen, the
-rival theory of a Nervous Fluid, the latter was the
-principal assertor of the doctrine of Irritability, an
-important theory on which we may afterwards have to touch.
-Haller's animosity against the Stahlian hypothesis is a
-remarkable feature in one who is in general so tolerant in
-his judgment of opinions. His arguments are taken from the
-absence of the control of the will over the vital actions,
-from the want of consciousness accompanying these actions,
-from the uniformity of them in different conditions of the
-mind, and from the small sensibility of {193} the heart
-which is the source of the vital actions. These objections,
-and the too decided distinction which Haller made between
-voluntary and involuntary muscles, were very satisfactorily
-answered by Whytt and Platner. In particular it was urged
-that the instinctive actions of brutes are inexplicable by
-means of mechanism, and may be compared with the necessary
-vital actions of the human body. Neither kind are
-accidental, neither kind are voluntary, both are performed
-without reflection.
-
-Without tracing further the progress of the Psychical
-Doctrine, I shall borrow a few reflections upon it from
-Sprengel[59\9]:--
-
-'When the opponents of the Stahlian system repeat
-incessantly that the assumption of a psychical cause in
-corporeal effects is a metaphysical speculation which does
-not belong to medicine, they talk to no purpose. The states
-of the soul are objects of our internal experience, and
-interest the physician too nearly to allow him to neglect
-them. The innumerable unconscious efforts of the soul, the
-powerful and daily effects of the passions upon the body,
-too often put to confusion those who would expel into the
-region of metaphysics the dispositions of the mind. The
-connexion of our knowledge of the soul, as gathered from
-experience, with our knowledge of the human body, is far
-closer than the mechanical and chemical physiologists
-suspect.
-
-[Note 59\9: Spr. v. 383.]
-
-'The strongest objection against the psychical system, and
-one which has never been sufficiently answered by any of its
-advocates, is the universality of organic effects in the
-_vegetable_ kingdom. The comparison of the physiology of
-plants with the physiology of animals puts the latter in its
-true light. Without absolutely trifling with the word
-_soul_, we cannot possibly derive from a soul the organic
-operations of vegetables. But just as little can we, as some
-Stahlians have done, draw a sharp line between plants and
-animals, and ascribe the processes of the former to mere
-mechanism, while {194} we derive the operations of the
-latter from an intellectual principle. Not to mention that
-such a line is not possible, the rise of the sap and the
-alteration of the fluids of plants cannot be derived
-entirely from material causes as their highest origin.'
-
-Thus, I may add, this psychical theory, however difficult to
-defend in its detail, does in its generalities express some
-important truths respecting the vital powers. It not only,
-like the last theory, gives unity to the living body, but it
-marks, more clearly than any other theory, the wide interval
-which separates mechanical and chemical from vital action,
-and fixes our attention upon the new powers which the
-consideration of life compels us to assume. It not only
-reminds us that these powers are elevated above the known
-laws of the material world, but also that they are closely
-connected with the world of thought and feeling, of will and
-reason; and thus it carries us, in a manner in which none of
-the preceding theories have done, to a true conception of a
-living, conscious, sentient, active individual.
-
-At the same time we cannot but allow that the life of
-plants and of the lower orders of animals shows us very
-clearly that, in order to arrive at any sound and consistent
-knowledge respecting life, we must form some conception of
-it from which all the higher attributes which the term
-'soul' involves, are utterly and carefully excluded; and
-therefore we cannot but come to the conclusion that the
-psychical school are right mainly in this; that in ascribing
-the functions of life to a _soul_, they mark strongly and
-justly the impossibility of ascribing them to any known
-attributes of _body_.
-
-
-
-{{195}}
-CHAPTER III.
-
-ATTEMPTS TO ANALYSE THE IDEA OF LIFE.
-
-
-1. _Definitions of Life._--WE have seen in the preceding
-chapter that all attempts to obtain a distinct conception of
-the nature of Life in general have ended in failure, and
-produced nothing beyond a negative result. And the
-conjecture may now naturally occur, that the cause of this
-failure resides in an erroneous mode of propounding to
-ourselves the problem. Instead of contemplating Life as a
-single Idea, it may perhaps be proper to separate it into
-several component notions: instead of seeking for one cause
-of all vital operations, it may be well to look at the
-separate vital functions, and to seek their causes. When the
-view of this possibility opens upon us, how shall we
-endeavour to verify it, and to take advantage of it?
-
-Let us, as one obvious course, take some of the attempts
-which have been made to _define_ Life, and let us see
-whether they appear to offer to us any analysis of the idea
-into component parts. Such definitions, when they proceed
-from men of philosophical minds, are the ultimate result of
-a long course of thought and observation; and by no means
-deserve to be slighted as arbitrary selections of
-conditions, or empty forms of words.
-
-2. Life has been defined by Stahl[60\9], 'The condition by
-which a body resists a natural tendency to chemical changes,
-such as putrefaction.' In like manner, M. von Humboldt[61\9]
-defines living bodies to be 'those which, notwithstanding
-the constant operation {196} of causes tending to change
-their form, are hindered by a certain inward power from
-undergoing such change.' The first of these definitions
-amounts only to the assertion, that vital processes are not
-chemical; a negative result, which we may accept as true,
-but which is, as we have seen, a barren truth. The second
-appears to be, in its import, identical with the first. An
-_inward_ principle can only be understood as distinguished
-from known external powers, such as mechanical and chemical
-agencies. Or if, by an internal principle, we mean such a
-principle as that of which we are _conscious_ within
-ourselves, we ascribe a soul to all living things: an
-hypothesis which we have seen is not more effective than the
-former in promoting the progress of biological science.
-Nearly the same criticism applies to such definitions as
-that of Kant: that 'Life is an internal faculty producing
-change, motion, and action.'
-
-[Note 60\9: Treviranus, _Biologie_, p. 19. Stahlii, _**Theor.
-Med._ p. 254.]
-
-[Note 61\9: _Aphorismen aus d. Chem. Physiol. der Pflanzen_, s. 1.]
-
-Other definitions refer us, not to some property residing in
-the whole of an organized mass, but to the connexion and
-relation of its parts. Thus M. von Humboldt[62\9] has given
-another definition of a living body: that 'it is a whole
-whose parts, arbitrarily separated, no longer resist
-chemical changes.' But this additional assertion concerning
-the parts, adds nothing of any value to the definition of
-the whole. And in some of the lower kinds of plants and
-animals it is hardly true as a fact.
-
-[Note 62\9: _Versuche über die gereitzte Muskel und
-Nervenfüser_, b. ii. p. 433.]
-
-3. Another definition[63\9] places the character of Life in
-'motions serviceable to the body moved.' To this it has been
-objected[64\9], that, on this definition, the earth and the
-planets are living bodies. Perhaps it would be more
-philosophical to object to the introduction of so loose a
-notion as that of a property being _serviceable_ to a body.
-We might also add, that if we speak of all vital functions
-as _motions_, we make an assumption quite unauthorized, and
-probably false.
-
-[Note 63\9: Erhard, Röschlaub's _Magazin der Heilkunde_, b.
-i. st. 1. p. 69.]
-
-[Note 64\9: Treviranus, _Biologie_, p. 41.]
-
-{197} Other definitions refer the idea of Life to the idea
-of Organization. 'Life is the activity of matter according
-to laws of organization[65\9].' We are then naturally led to
-ask, What is Organization? In reply to this is given us the
-Kantian definition of Organization, which I have already
-quoted elsewhere[66\9], 'An organized product of nature is
-that in which all the parts are mutually ends and
-means[67\9].' That this definition involves exact
-fundamental ideas, and is capable of being made the basis of
-sound knowledge, I shall hereafter endeavour to show. But I
-may observe that such a definition leads us somewhat
-further. If the parts of organized bodies are known to be
-means to certain ends, this must be known because they
-fulfil these ends, and produce certain effects by the
-operation of a certain cause or causes. The question then
-recurs, what is _the cause_ which produces such effects as
-take place in organized or living bodies? and this is
-identical with the problem of which in the last chapter we
-traced the history, and related the failure of physiologists
-in all attempts at its solution.
-
-[Note 65\9: Schmid, _Physiologie_, b. ii. p. 274.]
-
-[Note 66\9: _Hist. Ind. Sc._ b. xvii. c. viii. s. 2.]
-
-[Note 67\9: Kant, _Urtheilskraft_, p. 296.]
-
-4. But what has been just said suggests to us that it may be
-an improvement to put our problem in another shape:--not to
-take for granted that the cause of all vital processes is
-one, but to suppose that there may be several separate
-causes at work in a living body. If this be so, life is no
-longer one kind of activity, but several. We have a number
-of operations which are somehow bound together, and life is
-the totality of all these: in short, life is not one
-Function, but a System of Functions.
-
-5. We are thus brought very near to the celebrated
-definition of life given by Bichat[68\9]: 'Life is the sum
-of the functions by which death is resisted.' But upon the
-definition thus stated, we may venture to observe;--first,
-that the introduction of the notion of {198} _death_ in
-order to define the notion of _life_ appears to be
-unphilosophical. We may more naturally define death with
-reference to life, as the cessation of life; or at least we
-may consider life and death as correlative and
-interdependent notions. Again, the word 'sum,' used in the
-way in which it here occurs, appears to be likely to convey
-an erroneous conception, as if the functions here spoken of
-were simply added to each other, and connected by
-co-existence. It is plain that our idea of life involves
-more than this: the functions are all clearly connected, and
-mutually depend on each other; nutrition, circulation,
-locomotion, reproduction,--each has its influence upon all
-the others. These functions not merely co-exist, but exist
-with many mutual relations and connexions; they are
-continued so as to form, not merely a _sum_, but a _system_.
-And thus we are led to modify Bichat's definition, and to
-say that _Life is the system of vital functions_.
-
-[Note 68\9: _Physiological Researches on Life and Death_.]
-
-6. But it will be objected that by such a definition we
-explain nothing: the notion of _vital functions_, it may be
-said, involves the idea of _life_, and thus brings us round
-again to our starting-point. Or if not, at least it is as
-necessary to define Vital Functions as to define Life
-itself, so that we have made little progress in our task.
-
-To this we reply, that if any one seeks, upon such subjects,
-some ultimate and independent definition from which he can,
-by mere reasoning, deduce a series of conclusions, he seeks
-that which cannot be found. In the Inductive Sciences, a
-Definition does not form the basis of reasoning, _but points
-out the course of investigation_. The definition must
-include words; and the meaning of these words must be sought
-in the progress and results of observations, as I have
-elsewhere said[69\9]. 'The meaning of words is to be sought
-in the progress of thought; the history of science is our
-dictionary; the steps of scientific induction are our
-definitions.' It will appear, I think, that it is more easy
-for us to form an idea of a separate Function of the {199}
-animal frame, as Nutrition or Reproduction, than to
-comprehend Life in general under any single idea. And when
-we say that Life is a system of Vital Functions, we are of
-course directed to study these functions separately, and (as
-in all other subjects of scientific research) to endeavour
-to form of them such clear and definite ideas as may enable
-us to discover their laws.
-
-[Note 69\9: _Hist. Ind. Sc._ b. xiii. c. ix.]
-
-7. The view to which we are thus led, of the most promising
-mode of conducting the researches of Biology, is one which
-the greatest and most philosophical physiologists of modern
-times have adopted. Thus Cuvier considers this as the true
-office of physiology at present. 'It belongs to modern
-times,' he says, 'to form a just classification of the vital
-phenomena; the task of the present time is to analyse the
-forces which belong to each organic element, and upon the
-zeal and activity which are given to this task, depends,
-according to my judgment, the fortune of physiology[70\9].'
-This classification of the phenomena of life involves, of
-course, a distinction and arrangement of the vital
-functions; and the investigation of the powers by which
-these functions are carried on, is a natural sequel to such
-a classification.
-
-[Note 70\9: _Hist. Sc. Nat. dep._ 1789, i. 218.]
-
-8. _Classification of Functions._--Attempts to classify the
-Vital Functions of man were made at an early period, and
-have been repeated in great number up to modern times. The
-task of classification is exposed to the same difficulties,
-and governed by the same conditions, in this as in other
-subjects. Here, as in the case of other things, there may be
-many classifications which are moderately good and natural,
-but there is only one which is the best and the true natural
-system. Here, as in other cases, one classification brings
-into view one set of relations; another, another; and each
-may be valuable for its special purpose. Here, as in other
-cases, the classes may be well constituted, though the
-boundary lines which divide them be somewhat indistinct, and
-the order doubtful. Here, {200} as in other cases, we may
-have approached to the natural classification without having
-attained it; and here, as in other cases, to _define_ our
-classes is the last and hardest of our problems.
-
-9. The most ancient classification of the Functions of
-living things[71\9], is the division of them into _Vital_,
-_Natural_, and _Animal_. The Vital Functions are those which
-cannot be interrupted without loss of life, as
-_Circulation_, _Respiration_, and _Nervous Communication_.
-The _Natural Functions_ are those which without the
-intervention of the will operate on their proper occasions
-to preserve the bodies of animals; they are _Digestion_,
-_Absorption_, _Nutrition_; to which was added _Generation_.
-The _Animal_ Functions are those which involve perception
-and will, by which the animal is distinguished from the
-vegetable; they are _Sensibility_, _Locomotion_, and _Voice_.
-
-[Note 71\9: _Dict. des Sciences Nat._ art. _Fonctions_.]
-
-The two great grounds of this division, the distinction of
-functions which operate continually, and those which operate
-occasionally; and again, the distinction of functions which
-involve sensation and voluntary motion from those which do
-not; are truly of fundamental importance, and gave a real
-value to this classification. It was, however, liable to
-obvious objections: namely, _First_, that the names of the
-classes were ill chosen; for all the functions are natural,
-all are vital: _Second_, that the lines of demarcation
-between the classes are indefinite and ambiguous;
-Respiration is a _vital_ function, as being continually
-necessary to life; but it is also a _natural_ function,
-since it occurs in the formation of the nutritive fluid, and
-an _animal_ function, since it depends in part on the will.
-But these objections were not fatal, for a classification
-may be really sound and philosophical, though its boundary
-lines are vague, and its nomenclature ill selected. The
-division of the functions we have mentioned kept its ground
-long; or was employed with a subdivision of one class, so as
-to make them four; the _vital_, _natural_, _animal_ and
-_sexual_ functions. {201}
-
-10. I pass over many intermediate attempts to classify the
-functions, and proceed to that of Bichat as that which is, I
-believe, the one most generally assented to in modern times.
-The leading principle in the scheme of this celebrated
-physiologist is the distinction between _organic_ and
-_animal_ life. This separation is nearly identical with the
-one just noticed between the vital and animal functions; but
-Bichat, by the contrasts which he pointed out between these
-classes of functions, gave a decided prominence and
-permanence to the distinction. The Organic Life, which in
-animals is analogous to the life of vegetables, and the
-Animal Life, which implies sensation and voluntary motion,
-have each its system of organs. The center of the animal
-life is the brain, of the organic life, the heart. The
-former is carried on by a symmetrical, the latter, by an
-unsymmetrical system of organs: the former produces
-intermitting, the latter continuous actions: and, in
-addition to these, other differences are pointed out. This
-distinction of the two lives, being thus established, each
-is subdivided into two orders of Functions. The Animal
-Functions are passive, as _Sensation_: or active, as
-_Locomotion_ and _Voice_; again, the Organic Functions are
-those of Composition, which are concerned in taking matter
-into the system; _Digestion_, _Absorption_, _Respiration_,
-_Circulation_, _Assimilation_; and those of Decomposition,
-which reject the materials when they have discharged their
-office in the system; and these are again, _Absorption_,
-_Circulation_, and _Secretion_. To these are added
-_Calorification_, or the production of animal heat. It
-appears, from what has been said, that _Absorption_ and
-_Circulation_ (and we may add _Assimilation_ and
-_Secretion_, which are difficult to separate,) belong alike
-to the processes of composition and decomposition; nor in
-truth, can we, with any rigour, separate the centripetal and
-centrifugal movements in that vortex which, as we shall see,
-is an apt image of organic life.
-
-Several objections have been made to this classification:
-and in particular, to the terms thus employed. It has been
-asserted to be a perversion of language to {202} ascribe to
-animals _two lives_, and to call the higher faculties in
-man, perception and volition, the _animal_ functions. But,
-as we have already said, when a classification is really
-good, such objections, which bear only upon the mode in
-which it is presented, are by no means fatal: and it is
-generally acknowledged by all the most philosophical
-cultivators of biology, that this arrangement of the
-functions is better suited to the purposes of the science
-than those which preceded it.
-
-11. But according to the principles which we have already
-laid down, the solidity of such a classification is to be
-verified by its serving as a useful guide in biological
-researches. If the arrangement which we have explained be
-really founded in natural relations, it will be found that
-in proportion as physiologists have studied the separate
-functions above enumerated, their ideas of these functions,
-and of the powers by which they are carried on, have become
-more and more clear;--have tended more and more to the
-character of exact and rigorous science.
-
-To examine how far this has been the case with regard to all
-the separate functions, would be to attempt to estimate the
-value of all the principal physiological speculations of
-modern times; a task far too vast and too arduous for any
-one to undertake who has not devoted his life to such
-studies. But it may properly come within the compass of our
-present plan to show how, with regard to the broader lines
-of the above classification, there has been such a progress
-as we have above described, from more loose and inaccurate
-notions of some of the vital functions to more definite and
-precise ideas. This I shall attempt to point out in one or
-two instances.
-
-
-
-{{203}}
-CHAPTER IV.
-
-ATTEMPTS TO FORM IDEAS OF SEPARATE VITAL FORCES, AND FIRST
-OF ASSIMILATION AND SECRETION.
-
-
-SECT. I.--_Course of Biological Research._
-
-1. IT is to be observed that at present I do not speak of
-the progress of our knowledge with regard to the detail of
-the processes which take place in the human body, but of the
-approach made to some distinct Idea of the specially vital
-part of each process. In the History of Physiology, it has
-been seen[72\9] that all the great discoveries made respecting
-the organs and motions of the animal frame have been
-followed by speculations and hypotheses connected with such
-discoveries. The discovery of the circulation of the blood
-led to theories of animal heat; the discovery of the motion
-of the chyle led to theories of digestion; the close
-examination of the process of reproduction in plants and
-animals led to theories of generation. In all these cases,
-the discovery brought to light some portion of the process
-which was mechanical or chemical, but it also, in each
-instance, served to show that the process was something more
-than mechanical or chemical. The theory attempted to explain
-the process by the application of known causes; but there
-always remained some part of it which must unavoidably be
-referred to an unknown cause. But though unknown, such a
-cause was not a hopeless object of study. As the vital
-functions became better and better understood, it was seen
-more and more clearly at what precise points of the process
-it was necessary to assume a peculiar vital energy, and what
-sort of properties {204} this energy must be conceived to
-possess. It was perceived where, in what manner, in what
-degree, mechanical and chemical agencies were modified,
-over-ruled, or counteracted, by agencies which must be
-hypermechanical and hyperchemical. And thus the discoveries
-made in anatomy by a laborious examination of facts, pointed
-out the necessity of introducing new ideas, in order that
-the facts might be intelligible. Observation taught much;
-and among other things, she taught that there was something
-which could not be observed, but which must, if possible, be
-conceived. I shall notice a few instances of this.
-
-[Note 72\9: _Hist. Ind. Sc._ b. xvii.]
-
-
-SECT. II.--_Attempts to form a distinct Conception of
-Assimilation and Secretion._
-
-2. _The Ancients._--That plants and animals grow by taking
-into their substance matter previously extraneous, is
-obvious to all: but as soon as we attempt to conceive this
-process distinctly in detail, we find that it involves no
-inconsiderable mystery. How does the same food become blood
-and flesh, bone and hair? Perhaps the earliest attempt to
-explain this mystery, is that recorded by Lucretius[73\9] as
-the opinion of Anaxagoras, that food contains some bony,
-some fleshy particles, some of blood, and so on. We might,
-on this supposition, conceive that the mechanism of the body
-appropriates each kind of particle to its suitable place.
-
-[Note 73\9: Lucr. i. 855. Nunc et Anaxagoræ scrutemur
-ὁμοιομέρειαν.]
-
-But it is easy to refute this essay at philosophizing (as
-Lucretius refutes it) by remarking that we do not find milk
-in grass, or blood in fruit, though such food gives such
-products in cattle and in men. In opposition to this
-'Homoiomereia,' the opinion that is forced upon us by the
-facts is, that the process of nutrition is not a selection
-merely, but an _assimilation_; the organized system does not
-_find_, but _make_, the additions to its structure. {205}
-
-3. _Buffon._--This notion of _assimilation_ may be variously
-expressed and illustrated; and all that we can do here, in
-order to show the progress of thought, is to adduce the
-speculations of those writers who have been most successful
-in seizing and marking its peculiar character. Buffon may be
-taken as an example of the philosophy of his time on this
-subject. 'The body of the animal,' says he[74\9], 'is a kind
-of _interior mould_, in which the matter subservient to its
-increase is modelled and assimilated to the whole, in such a
-way that, without occasioning any change in the order and
-proportion of the parts, there results an augmentation in
-each part taken separately. This increase, this development,
-if we would have a _clear idea_ of it, how can we obtain it,
-except by considering the body of the animal, and each of
-the parts which is to be developed, as so many interior
-moulds which only receive the accessory matter in the order
-which results from the position of all their parts? This
-development cannot take place, as persons sometimes persuade
-themselves, by an addition to the outside; on the contrary,
-it goes on by an intimate susception which penetrates the
-mass; for, in the part thus developed, the size increases in
-all parts proportionally, so that the new matter must
-penetrate it in all its dimensions: and it is quite
-necessary that this penetration of substance must take place
-in a certain order, and according to a certain measure; for
-if this were not so, some parts would develope themselves
-more than others. Now what can there be which shall
-prescribe such a rule to the accessory matter except the
-_interior mould_?'
-
-[Note 74\9: _Hist. Nat._ b. i. c. iii.]
-
-To speak of a _mould_ simply, would convey a coarse
-mechanical notion, which could not be received as any useful
-contribution to physiological speculation. But this
-_interior_ mould is, of course, to be understood
-figuratively, not as an assemblage of cavities, but as a
-collection of laws, shaping, directing, and modifying the
-new matter; giving it not only form, but motion {206} and
-activity, such as belong to the parts of an organic being.
-
-4. It must be allowed, however, that even with this
-explanation, the comparison is very loose and insufficient.
-A _mould_ may be permitted to mean a collection of laws, but
-still it can convey no conception except that of laws
-regulated by relations of space; and such a conception is
-very plainly quite inadequate to the purpose. What can we
-conceive of the interior mould by which chyle is separated
-from the aliments at the pores of the lacteals, or tears
-secreted in the lacrymatory gland?
-
-An additional objection to this mode of expression of Buffon
-is, that it suggests to us only a single marked change in
-the assimilated matter, not a continuous series of changes.
-Yet the animal fluids and other substances are, in fact,
-undergoing a constant series of changes. Food becomes chyme,
-and chyme becomes chyle; chyle is poured into the blood;
-from the blood secretions take place, as the bile; the bile
-is poured into the digestive canal, and a portion of the
-matter previously introduced is rejected out of the system.
-Here we must have a series of 'interior moulds;' and these
-must impress matter at its ejection from the organic system
-as well as at its reception. But, moreover, it is probable
-that none of the above transformations are quite abrupt.
-Change is going on between the beginning and the end of each
-stage of the nutritive circulation. To express the laws of
-this continuous change, the image of an interior mould is
-quite unsuited. We must seek a better mode of conception.
-
-5. Vegetable and animal nutrition is, as we have said, a
-constant circulation. The matter so assumed is not all
-retained: a perpetual subtraction accompanies a perpetual
-addition. There is an excretion as well as an
-intussusception. The matter which is assumed by the living
-creature is retained only for a while, and is then parted
-with. The individual is the same, but its parts are in a
-perpetual flux: they come and go. For a time the matter
-which belongs to the organic body is bound to it by certain
-laws: but before it is thus bound, and {207} after it is
-loose, this matter may circulate about the universe in any
-other form. Life consists in a permanent influence over a
-perpetually changing set of particles.
-
-_Cuvier._--This condition also has been happily expressed,
-by means of a comparison, by another great naturalist. 'If,'
-says Cuvier[75\9], 'if, in order to obtain a just idea of
-the essence of life, we consider it in the beings where its
-effects are most simple, we shall soon perceive that it
-consists in the faculty which belongs to certain bodily
-combinations to continue during a determinate time under a
-determinate form; constantly attracting into their
-composition a part of the surrounding substances, and giving
-up in return some part of their own substance.
-
-[Note 75\9: _Règne Animal_, i. 11.]
-
-'Life is thus a _vortex_, more or less rapid, more or less
-complex, which has a constant direction, and which always
-carries along its stream particles of the same kinds; but in
-which the individual particles are constantly entering in
-and departing out; so that the _form_ of the living body is
-more essential to it than its matter.
-
-'So long as this motion subsists, the body in which it takes
-place is _alive_; it _lives_. When the motion stops finally,
-the body _dies_. After death, the elements which compose the
-body, given up to the ordinary chemical affinities, soon
-separate, and the body which was alive is dissolved.'
-
-This notion of a vortex[76\9] which is permanent while the
-matter which composes it constantly changes,--of peculiar
-forces which act in this vortex so long as it exists, and
-which give place to chemical forces when {208} the
-circulatory motion ceases,--appears to express some of the
-leading conditions of the assimilative power of living
-things in a simple and general manner, and thus tends to
-give distinctness to the notion of this vital function.
-
-[Note 76\9: The definition of life given by M. de Blainville
-appears to me not to differ essentially from that of Cuvier:
-'Un corps vivant est une sorte de foyer chimique où il-y-a à
-tous momens apport de nouvelles molecules et départ de
-molecules anciennes; où la composition n'est jamais fixe (si
-ce n'est d'un certain nombre de parties veritablement mortes
-ou en depôt), mais toujours pour ainsi dire _in nisu_, d'où
-mouvement plus ou moins lent et quelquefois
-chaleur.'--_Principes d'Anat._ 1822, t. i. p. 16.]
-
-6. But we may observe that this notion of a Vortex is still
-insufficient. Particles are not only taken into the system
-and circulated through it for a time, but, as we have seen,
-they are altered in character in a manner to us
-unintelligible, both at their first admission into the
-system and at every period of their progress through it. In
-the vortex each particle is constantly _transformed_ while
-it whirls.
-
-It may be said, perhaps, that this transformation of the
-kinds of matter may be conceived to be merely a new
-arrangement of their particles, and that thus all the
-changes which take place in the circulating substances are
-merely so many additional windings in the course of the
-whirling current. But to say this, is to take for granted
-the atomic hypothesis in its rudest form. What right have we
-to assume that blood and tears, bile and milk, consist of
-like particles of matter differently arranged? What can
-arrangement, a mere relation of space, do towards explaining
-such differences? Is not the insufficiency, the absurdity of
-such an assumption proved by the whole course of science?
-Are not even chemical changes, according to the best views
-hitherto obtained, something more than a mere new
-arrangement of particles? And are not vital as much beyond
-chemical, as chemical are beyond geometrical modifications?
-It is not enough, then, to conceive life as a vortex. The
-particles which are taken into the organic frame do more
-than circulate there. They are, at every point of their
-circulation, acted upon by laws of an unknown kind, changing
-the nature of the substance which they compose. Life is a
-vortex in which vital forces act at every point of the
-stream: it is not only a current of whirling _matter_, but a
-cycle of recurring _powers_.
-
-7. _Matter and Form._--This image of a vortex is closely
-connected with the representation of life offered {209} us
-by writers of a very different school. In Schelling's
-_Lectures on Academic Study_, he takes a survey of the
-various branches of human knowledge, determining according
-to his own principles the shape which each science must
-necessarily assume. The peculiar character of organization,
-according to him[77\9], is that the matter is only an
-accident of the thing itself, and the organization consists
-in Form alone. But this Form, by its very opposition to
-Matter, ceases to be independent of it, and is only ideally
-separable. In organization, therefore, substance and
-accident, matter and form, are completely identical[78\9].
-This notion, that in organization the Form is essential and
-the Matter accidental, or, in other words, that the Form is
-permanent and the Matter fluctuating and transitory, agrees,
-if taken in the grossest sense of matter and form, with
-Cuvier's image of a Vortex. In a whirlpool, or in a
-waterfall, the form remains, the matter constantly passes
-away and is renewed. But we have already seen[79\9] that in
-metaphysical speculations in which matter and form are
-opposed, the word form is used in a far more extensive sense
-than that which denotes a relation of space. It may indeed
-designate any change which matter can undergo; and we may
-very allowably say that food and blood are the same matter
-under different _forms_. Hence if we assert that _Life is a
-constant Form of a circulating Matter_, we express Cuvier's
-notion in a mode free from the false suggestion which
-'Vortex' conveys.
-
-[Note 77\9: Lect. xiii. p. 288.]
-
-[Note 78\9: I have not translated Schelling's words, but
-given their import as far as I could.]
-
-[Note 79\9: Book i.]
-
-8. We may, however, still add something to this account of
-life. The circulating parts of the system not only
-circulate, but they form the non-circulating parts. Or
-rather, there are no non-circulating parts: all portions of
-the frame circulate more or less rapidly. The food which we
-take circulates rapidly in the fluids, more slowly in the
-flesh, still more slowly in the bones; but in all these
-parts it is taken into the system, {210} retained there for
-some time, and finally replaced by other matter. But while
-it remains in the body, it exercises upon the other
-circulating parts the powers by which their motion is
-produced. Nutriment forms and supports the organs, and the
-organs carry fresh nutriment to its destination. The
-peculiar forces of the living body, and its peculiar
-structure, are thus connected in an indescribable manner.
-The forces produce the structure; the structure, again, is
-requisite for the exertion of the forces. The Idea of an
-Organic or Living Being includes this peculiar
-condition--that its construction and powers are such, that
-it constantly appropriates to itself new portions of
-substance which, so appropriated, become indistinguishable
-parts of the whole, and serve to carry on subsequently the
-same functions by which they were assimilated. And thus
-_Organic Life is a constant Form of a circulating Matter, in
-which the Matter and the Form determine each other by
-peculiar laws_ (_that is, by Vital Forces_).
-
-
-SECT. III.--_Attempts to conceive the forces of Assimilation
-and Secretion._
-
-9. I have already stated that in our attempts to obtain
-clear and scientific Ideas of Vital Forces, we have, in the
-first place, to seek to understand the course of change and
-motion in each function, so as to see at what points of the
-process peculiar causes come into play; and next, to
-endeavour to obtain some insight into the peculiar character
-and attributes of these causes. Having spoken of the first
-part of this mode of investigation in regard to the general
-nutrition of organic bodies, I must now say a few words on
-the second part.
-
-The Forces here spoken of are _Vital_ Forces. From what has
-been said, we may see in some measure the distinction
-between forces of this kind and mechanical or chemical
-forces; the latter tend constantly to produce a final
-condition, after which there is no further cause of change:
-mechanical forces tend to produce equilibrium; chemical
-forces tend to produce {211} composition or decomposition;
-and this point once reached, the matter in which these
-forces reside is altogether inert. But an organic body tends
-to a constant motion, and the highest activity of organic
-forces shows itself in continuous change. Again, in
-mechanical and chemical forces, the force of any aggregate
-is the sum of the forces of all the parts: the sum of the
-forces corresponds to the sum of the matter. But in organic
-bodies, the amount of effect does not depend on the matter,
-but on the form: the particles lose their separate energy,
-in order to share in that of the system; they are not added,
-they are _assimilated_.
-
-10. It is difficult to say whether anything has been gained
-to science by the various attempts to assign a fixed _name_
-to the vital force which is thus the immediate cause of
-Assimilation. It has been called _Organic Attraction_ or
-_Vital Attraction_, _Organic Affinity_ or _Vital Affinity_,
-being thus compared with mechanical Attraction or chemical
-Affinity. But, perhaps, as the process is certainly neither
-mechanical nor chemical, it is desirable to appropriate to
-it a peculiar name; and the name _Assimilation_, or _Organic
-Assimilation_, by the usage of good biological writers, is
-generally employed for this purpose, and may be taken as the
-standard name of this Vital Force. To illustrate this, I
-will quote a passage from the excellent _Elements of
-Physiology_ of Professor Müller. 'In the process of
-nutrition is exemplified the fundamental principle of
-_organic assimilation_. Each elementary particle of an organ
-attracts similar particles from the blood, and by the
-changes it produces in them, causes them to participate in
-the vital principle of the organ itself. Nerves take up
-nervous substance, muscles, muscular substance: even morbid
-structures have the assimilating power; warts in the skin
-grow with their own peculiar structure; in an ulcer, the
-base and border are nourished in a way conformable to the
-mode of action and secretion determined by the disease.'
-
-11. The Force of Organic Assimilation spoken of in the last
-paragraph denotes peculiarly the force by which each organ
-appropriates to itself a part of the {212} nutriment
-received into the system, and thus is maintained and
-augmented with the growth of the whole. But the growth of
-the solid parts is only one portion of the function of
-nutrition; besides this, we must consider the motion and
-changes of the fluids, and must ask what kind of forces may
-be conceived to produce these. What are the powers by which
-chyle is _absorbed_ from the food, by which bile is
-_secreted_ from the blood, by which the circulating _motion_
-of these and all other fluids of the body are constantly
-maintained? To the questions,--What are the forces by which
-_absorption_, _secretion_, and the _vital motions_, of
-fluids are produced?--no satisfactory answer has been
-returned. Yet still some steps have been made, which it may
-be instructive to point out.
-
-12. In _Absorption_ it would appear that a part of the
-agency is inorganic; for not only dead membranes, but
-inorganic substances, absorb fluids, and even absorb them
-with elective forces, according to the ingredients, of the
-fluid. A force which is of this kind, and which has been
-termed _Endosmose_, has been found to produce very curious
-effects. When a membrane separates two fluids, holding in
-solution different ingredients, the fluids pass through the
-membrane in an imperceptible manner, and mix or exchange
-their elements. The force which produces these effects is
-capable of balancing a very considerable pressure. It
-appears, moreover, to depend, at least among other causes,
-upon attractions operating between the elements of the
-solids and the fluids, as well as between the different
-fluids; and this force, though thus apparently of a
-mechanical and chemical nature, probably has considerable
-influence in vital phenomena.
-
-13. But still, though Endosmose may account in part for
-absorption in some cases, it is certain that there is some
-other vital force at work in this process. There must be, as
-Müller says[80\9], 'an organic attraction of a kind hitherto
-unknown.' 'If absorption,' he adds[81\9], is to be explained
-in a manner analogous to {213} the laws of endosmose, it
-must be supposed that a chemical affinity, resulting from
-the vital process itself, is exerted between the chyme in
-the intestines and the chyle in the lacteals, by which the
-chyle is enabled to attract the chyme without being itself
-attracted by it. But such affinity or attraction would be of
-a vital nature, since it does not exist after death.'
-
-[Note 80\9: _Physiology_, p. 299.]
-
-[Note 81\9: _Ib._ p. 301.]
-
-14. If the force of absorption be thus mysterious in its
-nature, the force of _Secretion_ is still more so. In this
-case we have an organ filled with a fine net-work of
-blood-vessels, and in the cavities of some _gland_, or open
-part, we have a new fluid formed, of a kind altogether
-different from the blood itself. It is easily shown that
-this cannot be explained by any action of pores or capillary
-tubes. But what conception can we form of the forces by
-which such a change is produced? Here, again, I shall borrow
-the expressions of Müller, as presenting the last result of
-modern physiology. He says[82\9], 'The more probable
-supposition is, that by virtue of imbibition, or the general
-organic porosity, the fluid portion of the blood becomes
-diffused through the tissue of the secreting organ; that the
-external surface of the glandular canals exerts a chemical
-attraction on the elements of the fluid, infusing into them
-at the same time a tendency to unite in new combinations;
-and then repels them in a manner which is certainly quite
-inexplicable, towards the inner surface of the secreting
-membrane, or glandular canals.' 'Although quite unsupported
-by facts,' he adds, 'this theory of attraction and repulsion
-is not without its analogy in physical phenomena; and it
-would appear that very similar powers effect the elimination
-of the fluid in secretion, and cause it to be taken up by
-the lymphatics in absorption.' He elsewhere says[83\9],
-'Absorption seems to depend on an attraction the nature of
-which is unknown, but of which the very counterpart, as it
-were, takes place in secretion; the fluids altered by the
-secreting action being repelled towards the free side or
-open surface only of the {214} secreting membranes, and then
-pressed forwards by the successive portions of the fluids
-secreted.'
-
-[Note 82\9: _Physiology_, p. 464.]
-
-[Note 83\9: _Ib._ p. 301.]
-
-15. With regard to the forces which produce the _Motion_ of
-absorbed or secreted fluids along their destined course, it
-may be seen, from the last quoted sentence, that the same
-vital force which changes the nature, also produces the
-movement of the substance. The fluids are pressed forwards
-by the successive portions absorbed or secreted. That this
-is the sole cause, or at least a very powerful cause, of the
-motion of the nutritive fluids in organic bodies, is easily
-shown by experience. It is found[84\9] that the organs which
-effect the ascent of the sap in trees during the spring are
-the terminal parts of the roots; that the whole force by
-which the sap is impelled upwards is the _vis a tergo_, as
-it has been called, the force pushing from behind, exerted
-in the roots. And thus the force which produces this motion
-is exerted exactly at those points where the organic body
-selects from the contiguous mass those particles which it
-absorbs and appropriates. And the same may most probably be
-taken for the cause of the motion of the lymph and chyle; at
-least, Müller says[85\9] that no other motive power has been
-detected which impels those fluids in their course.
-
-[Note 84\9: Müller, p. 300.]
-
-[Note 85\9: _Ib._ p. 254.]
-
-Thus, though we must confess the Vital Force concerned in
-Assimilation and Secretion to be unknown in its nature, we
-still obtain a view of some of the attributes which it
-involves. It has mechanical efficacy, producing motions,
-often such as would require great mechanical force. But it
-exerts at the same point both an attraction and a repulsion,
-attracting matter on one side, and repelling it on the
-other; and in this circumstance it differs entirely from
-mechanical forces. Again, it is not only mechanical but
-chemical, producing a complete change in the nature of the
-substance on which it acts; to which we must add that the
-changes produced by the vital forces are such as, for the
-most part, our artificial chemistry {215} cannot imitate.
-But, again, by the action of the vital force at any point of
-an organ, not only are fluids made to pass, and changed as
-they pass, but the organ itself is maintained and
-strengthened, so as to continue or to increase its
-operation: and thus the vital energy supports its activity
-by its action, and is augmented by being exerted.
-
-We have thus endeavoured to obtain a view of some of the
-peculiar characters which belong to the Force of Organic
-Assimilation;--the Force by which life is kept up, conceived
-in the most elementary form to which we can reduce it by
-observation and contemplation. It appears that it is a force
-which not only produces motion and chemical change, but also
-_vitalizes_ the matter on which it acts, giving to it the
-power of producing like changes on other matter, and so on
-indefinitely. It not only circulates the particles of
-matter, but puts them in a stream of which the flow is
-development as well as movement.
-
-The force of Organic Assimilation being thus conceived, it
-becomes instructive to compare it with the force concerned
-in Generation, which we shall therefore endeavour to do.
-
-
-SECT. IV.--_Attempts to conceive the Process of Generation._
-
-16. At first sight the function of Nutrition appears very
-different from the function of Generation. In the former
-case we have merely the existing organs maintained or
-enlarged, and their action continued; in the latter, we have
-a new individual produced and extricated from the parent.
-The term _Reproduction_ has, no doubt, been applied, by
-different writers, to both these functions;--to the
-processes by which an organ when mutilated, is restored by
-the forces of the living body, and to the process by which a
-new generation of individuals is produced which may be
-considered as taking the place of the old generation, as
-these are gradually removed by death. But these are
-obviously different senses of the word. In the latter case,
-the {216} term _Reproduction_ is figuratively used; for the
-_same_ individuals are not reproduced; but the species is
-kept up by the propagation of new individuals, as in
-nutrition the organ is kept up by the assimilation of new
-matter. To escape ambiguity, I shall avoid using the term
-_Reproduction_ in the sense of _Propagation_.
-
-17. In Nutrition, as we have seen, the matter, which from
-being at first extraneous, is appropriated by the living
-system, and directed to the sustentation of the organs,
-undergoes a series of changes of which the detail eludes our
-observation and apprehension. The nutriment which we receive
-contributes to the growth of flesh and bone, viscera and
-organs of sense. But we cannot trace in its gradual changes
-a visible preparation for its final office. The portion of
-matter which is destined to repair the waste of the eye or
-the skin, is not found assuming a likeness to the parts of
-the eye or the structure of the skin, as it comes near the
-place where it is moulded into its ultimate form. The new
-parts are insinuated among the old ones, in an obscure and
-imperceptible matter. We can trace their progress only by
-their effects. The organs _are_ nourished, and that is
-almost all we can learn: we cannot discover _how_ this is
-done. We cannot follow nature through a series of manifest
-preparations and processes to this result.
-
-18. In Generation the case is quite different. The young
-being is formed gradually and by a series of distinguishable
-processes. It is included within the parent before it is
-extruded, and approaches more or less to the likeness of the
-parent before it is detached. While it is still an embryo,
-it shares in the nutriment which circulates through the
-system of the mother; but its destination is already clear.
-While the new and the old parts, in every other portion of
-the mother, are undistinguishably mixed together, this new
-part, the fœtus, is clearly distinct from the rest of the
-system, and becomes rapidly more and more so, as the time
-goes on. And thus there is formed, not a new part, but a new
-whole; it is not an organ which is kept up, but an offspring
-which is prepared. The progeny is {217} included in the
-parent, and is gradually fitted to be separated from it. The
-young is at first only the development of a part of the
-organization of the mother;--of a germ, an ovule. But it is
-not developed like other organs, retaining its general form.
-It does not become merely a larger bud, a larger ovule; it
-is entirely changed; it becomes--from a bud--a blossom, a
-flower, a fruit, a seed; from an ovule it becomes an egg, a
-chick, a bird; or it may be, a fœtus, a child. The original
-rudiment is not merely nourished, but unfolded and
-transformed through the most marked and remote changes,
-gradually tending to the form of the new individual.
-
-19. But this is not all. The fœtus is, as we have said, a
-development of a portion of the mother's organization. But
-the fœtus (supposing it female) is a likeness of the mother.
-The mother, even before conception, contains within herself
-the germs of her progeny; the female fœtus, therefore, at a
-certain stage of development, will contain also the germs of
-possible progeny; and thus we may have the germs of future
-generations, pre-existing and included successively within
-one another. And this state of things, which thus suggests
-itself to us as possible, is found to be the case in facts
-which observation supplies. Anatomists have traced ovules in
-the unborn fœtus, and thus we have three generations
-included one within another.
-
-20. Supposing we were to stop here, the process of
-propagation might appear to be altogether different from
-that of nutrition. The latter, as we have seen, may be in
-some measure illustrated by the image of a _vortex_; the
-former has been represented by the image of a series of
-germs, _sheathed_ one within another successively, and this
-without any limit. This view of the subject has been termed
-the doctrine of the _Pre-existence of germs_; and has been
-designated by German writers by a term 'Einschachtelungs-theorie'
-descriptive of the successive sheathing of which I have
-spoken. Imitating this term, we may call it _the Theory of
-successive inclusion_. It has always had many {218}
-adherents; and has been, perhaps, up to the present time,
-the most current opinion on the subject of generation.
-Cuvier inclines to this opinion[86\9]. 'Fixed forms
-perpetuating themselves by generation distinguish the
-species of living things. These forms do not produce
-themselves, do not change themselves. Life supposes them to
-exist already; its flame can be lighted only in organization
-previously prepared; and the most profound meditations and
-the most delicate researches terminate alike in the mystery
-of the _pre-existence of germs_.'
-
-[Note 86\9: _Règne Animal_, p. 20.]
-
-21. Yet this doctrine is full of difficulty. It is, as
-Cuvier says, a mysterious view of the subject;--so
-mysterious, that it can hardly be accepted by us, who seek
-distinct conceptions as the basis of our philosophy. Can it
-be true, not only that the germ of the offspring is
-originally included in the parent, but also the germs of
-_its_ progeny, and so on without limit:--so that each
-fruitful individual contains in itself an infinite
-collection of future possible individuals;--a reserve of
-infinite succeeding generations? This is hard to admit. Have
-we no alternative? What is the opposite doctrine?
-
-22. The opposite doctrine deserves at least some notice. It
-extends, to the production of a new individual, the
-conception of growth by nutrition. According to this view,
-we suppose propagation to take place, not as in the view
-just spoken of, by inclusion and extrusion, but by
-assimilation and development;--not by the material
-pre-existence of germs, but by the communication of vital
-forces to new matter. This opinion appears to be entertained
-by some of the most eminent physiologists of the present
-time. Thus, Müller says, 'The organic force is also
-creative. The organic force which resides in the whole, and
-on which the existence of each part depends, has also the
-property of generating, from organic matter, the parts
-necessary to the whole.' Life, he adds, is not merely a
-harmony of the {219} parts. On the contrary, the harmonious
-action of the parts subsists only by the influence of a
-force pervading all parts of the body. 'This force exists
-before the harmonizing parts, which are in fact formed by it
-during the development of the embryo.' And again; 'The
-creative force exists in the germ, and creates in it the
-essential force of the future animal. The germ is
-_potentially_ the whole animal: during the development of
-the germ the parts which constitute the actual whole are
-produced.'
-
-23. In this view, we extend to the reproduction of an
-individual the same conception of organic assimilation which
-we have already arrived at, as the best notion we can form
-of the force by which the reproduction and sustentation of
-parts takes place. And is not such an extension really very
-consistent? If a living thing can appropriate to itself
-extraneous matter, invest it with its own functions, and
-thus put it in the stream of constant development, may we
-not conceive the development of a new _whole_ to take place
-in this way as well as of a _part_? If the organized being
-can infuse into new matter its vital forces, is there any
-contradiction in supposing this infusion to take place in
-the full measure which is requisite for the production of a
-new individual? The force of organic assimilation is
-transferred to the very matter on which it acts; it may be
-transferred so that the operation of the forces produces not
-only an organ, but a system of organs.
-
-24. This identification of the forces which operate in
-Nutrition and Generation may at first seem forced and
-obscure, in consequence of the very strong apparent
-differences of the two processes which we have already
-noticed. But this defect in the doctrine is remedied by the
-consideration of what may be considered as intermediate
-cases. It is not true that, in the nutrition of special
-organs, the matter is always conveyed to its ultimate
-destination without being on its way moulded into the form
-which it is finally to bear, as the embryo is moulded into
-the form of the {220} future individual. On the contrary,
-there are cases in which the waste of the organs is supplied
-by the growth of new ones, which are prepared and formed
-before they are used, just as the offspring is prepared and
-formed before it is separated from the parent. This is the
-case with the teeth of many animals, and especially with the
-teeth of animals of the crocodile kind. Young teeth grow
-near the root of the old ones, like buds on the stem of a
-plant; and as these become fully developed, they take the
-place of the parent tooth when that dies and is cast away.
-And these new teeth in their turn are succeeded by others
-which germinate from them. Several generations of such
-teeth, it is said as many as four, have been detected by
-anatomists, visibly existing at the same time; just as
-several generations of germs of individuals have been, as we
-already stated, observed included in one another. But this
-case of the teeth appears to show very strikingly how
-insufficient such observations are to establish the doctrine
-of successive inclusion, or of the pre-existence of germs.
-Are we to suppose that every crocodile's tooth includes in
-itself the germs of an infinite number of possible teeth, as
-in the theory of pre-existing germs every individual
-includes an infinite number of individuals? If this be true
-of teeth, we must suppose that organ to follow laws entirely
-different from almost every other organ; for no one would
-apply to the other organs in general such a theory of
-reproduction. But if such a theory be not maintained
-respecting the teeth, how can we maintain the theory of the
-pre-existing germs of individuals, which has no
-recommendation except that of accounting for exactly the
-same phenomena?
-
-It would seem, then, that we are, by the closest
-consideration of the subject, led to conceive the forces by
-which generation is produced, as forces which vitalize
-certain portions of matter, and thus prepare them for
-development according to organic forms; and thus the
-conception of this Generative Force is identified with the
-conception of the Force of Organic Assimilation, to {221}
-which we were led by the consideration of the process of
-nutrition.
-
-I shall not attempt to give further distinctness and fixity
-to this conception of one of the vital forces; but I shall
-proceed to exemplify the same analysis of life by some
-remarks upon another Vital Process, and the Forces of which
-it exhibits the operation.
-
-
-
-{{222}}
-CHAPTER V.
-
-ATTEMPTS TO FORM IDEAS OF SEPARATE VITAL FORCES,
-_continued_.--VOLUNTARY MOTION.
-
-
-1. WE formerly noticed the distinctions of _organic_ and
-_animal_ functions, organic and animal forces, as one of the
-most marked distinctions to which physiologists have been
-led in their analysis of the vital powers. I have now taken
-one of the former, the _organic_ class of functions, namely,
-Nutrition; and have endeavoured to point out in some measure
-the peculiar nature of the vital forces by which this
-function is carried on. It may serve to show the extent and
-the difficulty of this subject, if, before quitting it, I
-offer a few remarks suggested by a function belonging to the
-other class, the _animal_ functions. This I shall briefly do
-with respect to _Voluntary Motion_.
-
-2. In the History of Physiology, I have already related the
-progress of the researches by which the organs employed in
-voluntary motion became known to anatomists. It was
-ascertained to the satisfaction of all physiologists, that
-the immediate agents in such motion are the muscles; that
-the muscles are in some way contracted, when the nerves
-convey to them the agency of the will; and that thus the
-limbs are moved. It was ascertained, also, that the nerves
-convey sensations from the organs of sense inwards, so as to
-make these sensations the object of the animal's
-consciousness. In man and the higher animals, these
-impressions upon the nerves are all conveyed to one internal
-organ, the brain; and from this organ all impressions of the
-will appear to proceed; and thus the brain is {223} the
-center of animal life, towards which sensations converge,
-and from which volitions diverge.
-
-But this being the process, we are led to inquire how far we
-can obtain any knowledge, or form any conception, of the
-vital forces by means of which the process is carried on.
-And here I have further stated in the History[87\9], that
-the transfer of sensations and volitions along the nerves
-was often represented as consisting in the motion of a
-Nervous Fluid. I have related that the hypothesis of such a
-fluid, conveying its impressions either by motions of
-translation or of vibration, was countenanced by many great
-names, as Newton, Haller, and even Cuvier. But I have
-ventured to express my doubt whether this hypothesis can
-have much value: 'for,' I have said, 'this principle cannot
-be mechanical, chemical, or physical, and therefore cannot
-be better understood by embodying it in a fluid. The
-difficulty we have in conceiving what the force _is_, is not
-got rid of by explaining the machinery by which it is
-_transferred_.'
-
-[Note 87\9: _Hist. Ind. Sc._ b. xvii. c. v. s. 2.]
-
-3. I may add, that no succeeding biological researches
-appear to have diminished the force of these considerations.
-In modern times, attempts have repeatedly been made to
-identify the nervous fluid with electricity or galvanism.
-But these attempts have not been satisfactory or conclusive
-of the truth of such an identity: and Professor Müller
-probably speaks the judgment of the most judicious
-physiologists, when he states it as his opinion, after
-examining the evidence[88\9], 'That the vital actions of the
-nerves are not attended with the development of any galvanic
-currents which our instruments can detect; and that the laws
-of action of the nervous principle are totally different
-from those of electricity.'
-
-[Note 88\9: _Elem. Phys._ p. 640.]
-
-That the powers by which the nerves are the instruments of
-sensation, and the muscles of motion, are vital endowments,
-incapable of being expressed or explained by any comparison
-with mechanical, chemical, and electrical forces, is the
-result which we should {224} expect to find, judging from
-the whole analogy of science; and which thus is confirmed by
-the history of physiology up to the present time. We
-naturally, then, turn to inquire whether such peculiar vital
-powers have been brought into view with any distinctness and
-clearness.
-
-4. The property by which muscles, under proper stimulation,
-contract and produce motion, has been termed _Irritability_
-or _Contractility_; the property by which nerves are
-susceptible of their appropriate impressions has been termed
-_Sensibility_. A very few words on each of these subjects
-must suffice.
-
-_Irritability._--I have, in the History of Physiology[89\9],
-noticed that Glisson, a Cambridge professor, distinguished
-the Irritation of muscles as a peculiar property, different
-from any merely mechanical or physical action. I have
-mentioned, also, that he divides Irritation into _natural_,
-_vital_, and _animal_; and points out, though briefly, the
-graduated differences of Irritability in different organs.
-Although these opinions did not at first attract much
-notice, about seventy years afterwards attention was
-powerfully called to this vital force, _Irritability_, by
-Haller. I shall borrow Sprengel's reflections on this subject.
-
-[Note 89\9: _Hist. Ind. Sc._ b. xvii. c. v.]
-
-'Hitherto men had been led to see more and more clearly that
-the cause of the bodily functions, the fundamental power of
-the animal frame, is not to be sought in the mechanism, and
-still less in the mixture of the parts. In this conviction,
-they had had recourse partly to the quite supersensuous
-principle of the Soul, partly to the half-material principle
-of the Animal Spirits, in order to explain the bodily
-motions. Glisson alone saw the necessity of assuming an
-Original Power in the fibres, which, independent of the
-influence of the animal spirits, should produce contraction
-in them. And Gorter first held that this Original Power was
-not to be confined to the muscles, but to be extended to all
-parts of the living body. {225}
-
-'But as yet the laws of this Power were not known, nor had
-men come to an understanding whether it were fully distinct
-from the elasticity of the parts, or by what causes it was
-put in action. They had neither instituted observations nor
-experiments which established its relation to other assumed
-forces of the body. There was still wanting a determination
-of the peculiar seat of this power, and experiments to trace
-its gradual differences in different parts of the body. In
-addition to other causes, the necessity of the assumption of
-such a power was felt the more, in consequence of the
-prevalence of Leibnitz's doctrine of the activity of matter;
-but it was an occult quality, and remained so till Haller,
-by numerous experiments and solid observations, placed in a
-clear light the peculiarities of the powers of the animal body.'
-
-5. Perhaps, however, Haller did more in the way of
-determining experimentally the limits and details of the
-application of this idea of Irritability as a peculiar
-attribute, than in developing the Idea itself. In that way
-his merits were great. As early as the year 1739, he
-published his opinion upon Irritability as the cause of
-muscular motion, which he promulgated again in 1743. But
-from the year 1747 he was more attentive to the
-peculiarities of Irritability, and its difference from the
-effect of the nerves. In the first edition of his
-_Physiology_, which appeared in 1747, he distinguished three
-kinds of Force in muscles,--the Dead Force, the Innate
-Force, and the Nervous Power. The first is identical with
-the elastic force of dead matter, and remains even after
-death. The _innate force_ continues only a short time after
-death, and discloses itself especially by alternate
-oscillations; the motions which arise from this are much
-more lively than those which arise from mere elasticity:
-they are not excited by tension, nor by pressure, nor by any
-mechanical alteration, but only by _irritation_. The
-_nervous force_ of the muscle is imparted to it from without
-by the nerves; it preserves the _irritability_, which cannot
-long subsist without the influence of the nervous force, but
-is not identical with it. {226}
-
-In the year 1752, Haller laid before the Society of
-Göttingen the result of one hundred and ninety experiments;
-from which it appears to what parts of the animal system
-Irritability and Nervous Power belong. These I need not
-enumerate. He also investigated with care its gradations in
-those parts which do possess it. Thus the heart possesses it
-in the highest degree, and other organs follow in their
-order.
-
-6. Haller's doctrine was, that there resides in the muscles
-a peculiar vital power by which they contract, and that this
-power is distinct from the attributes of the nerves. And
-this doctrine has been accepted by the best physiologists of
-modern times. But this distinction of the _irritability_ of
-the muscles from the _sensibility_ of the nerves became
-somewhat clearer by giving to the former attribute the name
-of _Contractility_. This accordingly was done; it is, for
-example, the phraseology used by Bichat. By speaking of
-_animal sensibility_ and _animal contractility_, the passive
-and the active element of the processes of animal life are
-clearly separated and opposed to each other. The sensations
-which we feel, and the muscular action which we exert, may
-be closely and inseparably connected, yet still they are
-clearly distinguishable. We can easily in our apprehension
-separate the titillation felt in the nose on taking snuff,
-from the action of the muscles in sneezing; or the
-perception of an object falling towards the eye, from the
-exertion which shuts the eye-lid; although in these cases
-the passive and active part of the process are almost or
-quite inseparable in fact. And this clear separation of the
-active from the passive power is something, it would seem,
-peculiar to the Animal Vital Powers; it is a character by
-which they differ, not only from mechanical, chemical, and
-all other merely physical forces, but even from Organic
-Vital Powers.
-
-7. But this difference between the Animal and the Organic
-Vital Powers requires to be further insisted upon, for it
-appears to have been overlooked or denied by very eminent
-physiologists. For instance, Bichat classifies the Vital
-Powers as Animal Sensibility, {227} Animal Contractility,
-Organic Sensibility, Organic Contractility.
-
-Now the view which suggests itself to us, in agreement with
-what has been said, is this:--that though Animal Sensibility
-and Animal Contractility are clearly and certainly distinct,
-Organic Sensibility and Organic Contractility are neither
-separable in fact nor in our conception, but together make
-up a single Vital Power. That they are not separable in fact
-is, indeed, acknowledged by Bichat himself. 'The organic
-contractility,' he says[90\9], 'can never be separated from
-the sensibility of the same kind; the reaction of the
-excreting tubes is immediately connected with the action
-which the secreted fluids exercise upon them: the
-contraction of the heart must necessarily succeed the influx
-of the blood into it.' It is not wonderful, therefore, that
-it should have happened, as he complains, that 'authors have
-by no means separated these two things, either in their
-consideration or in language.' We cannot avoid asking, Are
-Organic Sensibility and Organic Contractility really
-anything more than two different aspects of the same thing,
-like action and reaction in mechanics, which are only two
-ways of considering the action which takes place at a point;
-or like the positive and negative electricities, which, as
-we have seen, always co-exist and correspond to each other?
-
-[Note 90\9: _Life and Death_, p. 94.]
-
-8. But we may observe, moreover, that Bichat, by his use of
-the term Contractility, includes in it powers to which it
-cannot with any propriety be applied. Why should we suppose
-that the vital powers of absorption, secretion,
-assimilation, are of such a nature that the name
-_contractility_ may be employed to describe them? We have
-seen, in the last chapter, that the most careful study of
-these powers leads us to conceive them in a manner
-altogether removed from any notion of contraction. Is it not
-then an abuse of language which cannot possibly lead to
-anything but {228} confusion, to write thus[91\9]: 'The
-insensible organic contractility is that, by virtue of which
-the excreting tubes react upon their respective fluids, the
-secreting organs upon the blood which flows into them, the
-parts where nutrition is performed upon the nutritive
-juices, and the lymphatics upon the substances which excite
-their open extremities'? In the same manner he
-ascribes[92\9] to the peculiar sensibility of each organ the
-peculiarity of its products and operations. An increased
-absorption is produced by an increased susceptibility of the
-'absorbent orifices.' And thus, in this view, each organic
-power may be contemplated either as sensibility or as
-contractility, and may be supposed to be rendered more
-intense by magnifying either of these its aspects; although,
-in fact, neither can be conceived to be increased without an
-exactly commensurate increase of the other.
-
-[Note 91\9: _Life and Death_, p. 95.]
-
-[Note 92\9: _Ib._ p. 90.]
-
-9. This opinion, unfounded as it thus appears to be, that
-all the different organic vital powers are merely different
-kinds of Contractility or Excitability, was connected with
-the doctrines of Brown and his followers, which were so
-celebrated in the last century, that all diseases arise from
-increase or from diminution of the Vital Force. The
-considerations which have already offered themselves would
-lead us to assent to the judgment which Cuvier has
-pronounced upon this system. 'The theory of excitation,' he
-says, 'so celebrated in these later times by its influence
-upon pathology and therapeutick, is at bottom only a
-modification of that, in which, including under a common
-name Sensibility and Irritability,' and we may add, applying
-this name to all the Vital Powers, 'the speculator takes
-refuge in an abstraction so wide, that if, by it, he
-simplifies medicine, he by it annihilates all positive
-physiology[93\9].'
-
-[Note 93\9: _Hist. des Sc. Nat. depuis_ 1789, i. 219.]
-
-10. The separation of the nervous influence and the muscular
-irritability, although it has led to many highly instructive
-speculations, is not without its {229} difficulties, when
-viewed with reference to the Idea of Vital Power. If the
-irritability of each muscle reside in the muscle itself, how
-does it differ from a mere mechanical force, as elasticity?
-But, in point of fact, it is certain that the muscular
-irritability of the animal body is not an attribute of the
-muscle itself independent of its connexion with the system.
-No muscle, or other part, removed from the body, _long_
-preserves its irritability. This power cannot subsist
-permanently, except in connexion with an organic whole. This
-condition peculiarly constitutes irritability a _living_
-force: and this condition would be satisfied by considering
-the force as derived from the nervous system; but it appears
-that though the nervous system has the most important
-influence upon all vital actions, the muscular irritability
-must needs be considered as something distinct. And thus the
-Irritability or Contractility of the muscle is a peculiar
-endowment of the texture, but it is at the same time an
-endowment which can only co-exist with life; it is, in
-short, a peculiar Vital Power.
-
-11. This necessity of the union of the muscle with the whole
-nervous system, in order that it may possess irritability,
-was the meaning of the true part of Stahl's psychical
-doctrine; and the reason why he and his adherents persisted
-in asserting the power of the soul even over involuntary
-motions. This doctrine was the source of much controversy in
-later times.
-
-'But,' says Cuvier[94\9], 'this opposition of opinion may be
-reconciled by the intimate union of the nervous substance
-with the fibre and the other contractile organic elements,
-and by their reciprocal action;--doctrines which had been
-presented with so much probability by physiologists of the
-Scotch school, but which were elevated above the rank of
-hypotheses only by the observations of more recent times.
-
-[Note 94\9: _Hist. des Sc. Nat. depuis_ 1789, i. 213.]
-
-'The fibre does not contract by itself, but by the influence
-of the nervous filaments, which are always united with it.
-The change which produces the {230} contraction cannot take
-place without the concurrence of both these substances; and
-it is further necessary that it should be occasioned each
-time by an exterior cause, by a stimulant.
-
-'The Will is one of these stimulants; but it only excites
-the Irritability, it does not constitute it; for in the case
-of persons paralytic from apoplexy, the Irritability
-remains, though the power of the Will over it is gone. Thus
-_irritability_ depends in part on the _nerve_, but not on
-the _sensibility_: this last is another property, still more
-admirable and occult than the irritability; but it is only
-one among several functions of the nervous system. It would
-be an abuse of words to extend this denomination to
-functions unaccompanied by perception.'
-
-12. Supposing, then, that Contractility is established as a
-peculiar Vital Power residing in the muscles, we may ask
-whether we can trace with any further exactness the seat and
-nature of this power. It would be unsuitable to the nature
-of the present work to dwell upon the anatomical discussions
-bearing upon this point. I will only remark that some
-anatomists maintain[95\9] that muscles are contracted by
-those fibres assuming a zigzag form, which at first were
-straight. Others (Professor Owen and Dr. A. Thompson) doubt
-the accuracy of this observation; and conceive that the
-muscular fibre becomes shorter and thicker, but does not
-deviate from a right line. We may remark that the latter
-kind of action appears to be more elementary in its nature.
-We can, as a matter of geometry, conceive a straight line
-thrown into a zigzag shape by muscular contractions taking
-place between remote parts of it; but it is difficult to
-conceive by what _elementary_ mode of action a straight
-fibre could bend itself at certain points, and at certain
-points only; since the elementary force must act at every
-point of the fibre, and not at certain selected points.
-
-[Note 95\9: Müller, _Elem. Phys._ p. 887.]
-
-13. A circumstance which remarkably marks the difference
-between the vital force of Contractility, {231} inherent in
-muscles, and any merely dead or mechanical force, is this;
-that in assuming their contractile state, muscles exert a
-tension which they could not themselves support or convey if
-not strengthened by their vital irritability. They are
-capable of raising weights by their exertion, which will
-tear them asunder when the power of contraction is lost by
-death. This has induced Cuvier and other physiologists[96\9]
-to believe 'that in the moment of action, the particles that
-compose a fibre, not only approach towards each other
-longitudinally, but that their cohesive attraction becomes
-instantaneously much greater than it was before: for without
-such an increase of cohesive force, the tendency to shorten
-could not, as it would appear, prevent the fibre from being
-torn.' We see here the difficulty, or rather the
-impossibility, of conceiving muscular contractility as a
-mere mechanical force; and perhaps there is little hope of
-any advantage by calling in the aid of chemical hypothesis
-to solve the mechanical difficulty. Cuvier conjectures that
-a sudden change in the chemical composition may thus so
-quickly and powerfully augment the cohesion. But we may ask,
-are not a chemical synthesis and analysis, suddenly
-performed by a mere act of the will, as difficult to
-conceive as a sudden increase and decrease of mechanical
-power directly produced by the same cause?
-
-[Note 96\9: Prichard, _Vital Prin._ p. 126.]
-
-14. _Sensibility._ The nerves are the organs and channels of
-Sensibility. By means of them we receive our sensations,
-whether of mere pleasure and pain, or of qualities which we
-ascribe to external objects, as a bitter taste, a sweet
-odour, a shrill sound, a red colour, a hard or a hot feeling
-of touch. Some of these sensations are but obscurely the
-objects of our consciousness; as for example the feeling
-which our feet have of the ground, or the sight which our
-eyes have of neighbouring objects, when we walk in a
-reverie. In these cases the sensations, though obscure,
-exist; for they {232} serve to balance and guide us as we
-walk. In other cases, our sensations are distinctly and
-directly the objects of our attention.
-
-But our Sensations, as we have already said, we ascribe as
-Qualities to external objects. By our senses we perceive
-objects, and thus our _sensations_ become _perceptions_. We
-have not only the sensation of _round_, _purple_, and
-_green_, repeated and varied, but the perception of a _bunch
-of grapes_ partly ripe and partly unripe. We have not only
-sensations of noise and of variously-coloured specks rapidly
-changing their places, but we have perceptions, by sound and
-sight, of a stone rolling down the hill and crushing the
-shrubs in its path. We scarcely ever dwell upon our
-Sensations; our thoughts are employed upon Objects. We
-regard the impressions upon our nerves, not for what they
-_are_, but for what they _tell_ us.
-
-But in what Language do the impressions upon the nerves thus
-speak to us of an external world,--of the forms and
-qualities and actions of objects? How is it that by the aid
-of our nervous system we become acquainted not only with
-impressions but with _things_; that we learn not only the
-relation of objects to us, but to one another?
-
-15. It has been shown at some length in the previous Books,
-that the mode in which Sensations are connected in our minds
-so as to convey to us the knowledge of Objects and their
-Relations, is by being contemplated with reference to
-_Ideas_. Our Sensations, connected by the Idea of Space,
-become Figures; connected by the Idea of Time, they become
-Causes and Effects; connected by the Idea of Resemblance,
-they become Individuals and Kinds; connected by the Idea of
-Organization, they become Living Things. It has been shown
-that without these Ideas there can be no connexion among our
-sensations, and therefore no perception of Figure, Action,
-Kind, or in short, of bodies under any aspect whatever.
-Sensations are the rude _Matter_ of our perceptions; and are
-nothing, except so far as they have _Form_ given them by
-Ideas. {233} But thus moulded by our Ideas, Sensation
-becomes the source of an endless store of important
-Knowledge of every possible kind.
-
-16. But one of the most obvious uses of our perceptions and
-our knowledge is to direct our Actions. It is suitable to
-the condition of our being that when we perceive a bunch of
-grapes, we should be able to pluck and eat the ripe ones;
-that when we perceive a stone rushing down the side of a
-hill, we should be able to move so as to avoid it. And this
-must be done by moving our limbs; in short, by the use of
-our muscles. And thus Sensation leads, not directly, but
-through the medium of Ideas, to muscular Contraction. I say
-that sensation and Muscular action are in such cases
-connected through the medium of Ideas. For when we proceed
-to pluck the grape which we see, the _sensation_ does not
-determine the motion of the hand by any necessary
-geometrical or mechanical conditions, as an impression made
-upon a machine determines its motions; but the _perception_
-leads us to stretch forth the hand to that part of space,
-wherever it is, where we _know_ that the grape is; and this,
-not in any determinate path, but, it may be, avoiding or
-removing intervening obstacles, which we also _perceive_.
-There is in every such case a connexion between the
-sensation and the resulting action, not of a material but of
-a mental kind. The cause and the effect are bound together,
-not by physical but by intellectual ties.
-
-17. And thus in such cases, between the two _vital_
-operations, Sensation and Muscular Action, there intervenes,
-as an intermediate step, Perception or Knowledge, which is
-not merely vital but _ideal_. But this is not all; there is
-still another mental part of the process which may be
-readily distinguished from that which we have described. An
-act of the _Will_, a Volition, is that, in the Mind, which
-immediately determines the action of the Muscles of the
-Body. And thus Will intervenes between Knowledge and Action;
-and the cycle of operations which take place when animals
-act with reference to external objects is {234}
-this:--Sensation, Perception, Volition, Muscular
-Contraction.
-
-18. To attempt further to analyse the mental part of this
-cycle does not belong to the present part of our work. But
-we may remark here, as we have already remarked in the
-History[97\9], how irresistibly we are led by physiological
-researches into the domain of thought and mind. We pass from
-the body to the soul, from physics to metaphysics; from
-biology to psychology; from things to persons; from nouns to
-pronouns. I have there noticed the manner in which Cuvier
-expresses this transition by the introduction of the
-pronoun: 'The impression of external objects upon the ME,
-the production of a sensation, of an image, is a mystery
-impenetrable to our thoughts.'
-
-[Note 97\9: _Hist. Ind. Sc._ b. xvii. c. v. s. 2.]
-
-19. But to return to the merely biological part of our
-speculations. We have arrived, it will be perceived, at this
-result: that in animal actions there intervenes between the
-two terms of Sensation and Muscular Contraction, an
-intermediate process; which may be described as a
-communication to and from a Center. The Center is the seat
-of the sentient and volent faculties, and is of a
-_hyperphysical_ nature. But the existence of such a Center
-as a necessary element in the functions of the _animal_ life
-is a truth which is important in biology. This indeed may be
-taken as the peculiar character of animal, as distinguished
-from merely _organic_ powers. Accordingly, it is so stated
-by Bichat. For although he superfluously, as I have tried to
-show, introduces into his list of vital powers an organic
-sensibility, he still draws the distinction of which I have
-spoken; 'in the animal life, Sensibility is the faculty of
-receiving an Impression _plus_ that of referring it to a
-common Center[98\9].'
-
-[Note 98\9: _Life and Death_, p. 84.]
-
-20. But since Sensibility and Contractility are thus
-connected by reference to a common Center, we may ask,
-before quitting the subject, what are the different forms
-which this reference assumes? Is the connexion {235} always
-attended by the distinct steps of Knowledge and Will,--by a
-clear act of consciousness, as in the case which we have
-taken, of plucking a grape; or may these steps become
-obscure, or vanish altogether?
-
-We need not further illustrate the _conscious_ connexion.
-Such actions as we have described are called _voluntary_
-actions. In extreme cases, the mental part of the process is
-obvious enough. But we may gradually pass from these to
-cases in which the mental operation is more and more obscure.
-
-In walking, in speaking, in eating, in breathing, our
-muscular exertions are directed by our sensations and
-perceptions: yet in such processes, how dimly are we
-conscious of perceptive and directive power! How the mind
-should be able to exercise such a power, and yet should be
-scarcely or not at all conscious of its exercise, is a very
-curious problem. But in all or in most of the instances just
-mentioned, the solution of this problem appears to depend
-upon psychological rather than biological principles, and
-therefore does not belong to this place.
-
-21. But in cases at the other extreme (unconscious actions)
-the mental part of the operation vanishes altogether. In
-many animals, even after decapitation, the limbs shrink when
-irritated. The motions of the iris are determined by the
-influence of light on our eyes, without our being aware of
-the motions. Here Sensations produce Motions, but with no
-trace of intervening Perception or Will. The Sensation
-appears to be _reflected_ back from the central element of
-animal life, in the form of a Muscular Contraction; but in
-this case the Sensation is not modified or regulated by any
-_Idea_. These reflected motions have no reference to
-relations of space or force among surrounding objects. They
-are blind and involuntary, like the movements of convulsion,
-depending for direction and amount only on the position and
-circumstances of the limb itself with its muscles. Here the
-Centre from which the reflection takes place is merely
-_animal_, not intellectual.
-
-In this case some physiologists have doubted whether the
-reflection of the sensation in the form of a muscular {236}
-contraction does really take place from the Center; and have
-conceived that sensorial impressions might affect motor
-nerves without any communication with the nervous Center.
-But on this subject we may, I conceive, with safety adopt
-the decision of Professor Müller, deliberately given after a
-careful examination of the subject: 'When impressions made
-by the action of external stimuli on sensitive nerves give
-rise to motions in other parts, these motions are never the
-result of the _direct_ reaction of the sensitive and motor
-fibres of the nerves on each other; the irritation is
-conveyed by the sensitive fibres to the brain and spinal
-cord, and is by these communicated to the motor fibres.'
-
-22. Thus we have two extreme cases of the connexion of
-sensation with muscular action; in one of which the
-connexion clearly _is_, and in the other it as clearly _is
-not_, determined by relations of Ideas, in its transit
-through the nervous Center. There is another highly curious
-case standing intermediate between these two, and extremely
-difficult to refer to either. I speak of the case of _Instinct_.
-
-Instinct leads to actions which are _such as if they were
-determined by Ideas_. The lamb follows its mother by
-instinct; but the motions by which it does this, the special
-muscular exertions, depend entirely upon the geometrical and
-mechanical relations of external bodies, as the form of the
-ground, and the force of the wind. The contractions of the
-muscles which are requisite in order that the creature may
-obey its instinct, vary with every variation of these
-external conditions;--are not determined by any rule or
-necessity, but by properties of Space and Force. Thus the
-action is not governed by Sensations directly, but by
-sensations moulded by Ideas. And the same is the case with
-other cases of instinct. The dog hunts by instinct; but he
-hunts certain kinds of animals merely, thus showing that his
-instinct acts according to Resemblances and Differences; he
-crosses the field repeatedly to find the track of his prey
-by scent; thus recognizing the relations of Space with
-reference to the track; he leaps, adjusting his Force to
-{237} the distance and height of the leap with mechanical
-precision; and thus he practically recognizes the Ideas of
-Resemblance, Space, and Force.
-
-But have animals such Ideas? In any proper sense in which we
-can speak of possessing Ideas, it appears plain that they
-have not. Animals cannot, at any time, be said properly to
-possess ideas, for ideas imply the possibility of
-_speculative_ knowledge.
-
-23. But even if we allow to animals only the _practical_
-possession of Ideas, we have still a great difficulty
-remaining. In the case of man, his ideas are unfolded
-gradually by his intercourse with the external world. The
-child learns to distinguish forms and positions by a
-repeated and incessant use of his hands and eyes; he learns
-to walk, to run, to leap, by slow and laborious degrees; he
-distinguishes one man from another, and one animal from
-another, only after repeated mistakes. Nor can we conceive
-this to be otherwise. How should the child know at once what
-muscles he is to exert in order to touch with his hand a
-certain visible object? How should he know what muscles to
-exert that he may stand and not fall, till he has tried
-often? How should he learn to direct his attention to the
-differences of different faces and persons, till he is
-roused by some memory, or hope which implies memory? It
-seems to us as if the sensations could not, without
-considerable practice, be rightly referred to Ideas of
-Space, Force, Resemblance, and the like.
-
-Yet that which thus appears impossible, is in fact done by
-animals. The lamb almost immediately after its birth follows
-its mother, accommodating the actions of its muscles to the
-form of the ground. The chick, just escaped from the shell,
-picks up a minute insect, directing its beak with the
-greatest accuracy. Even the human infant seeks the breast
-and exerts its muscles in sucking, almost as soon as it is
-born. Hence, then, we see that Instinct produces at once
-actions regulated by Ideas, or, at least, which take place
-_as if_ they were regulated by Ideas; although the Ideas
-cannot have been developed by exercise, and only appear to
-exist so far as such actions are concerned. {238}
-
-24. The term _Instinct_ may properly be opposed to
-_Insight_. The former implies an inward principle of action,
-implanted within a creature and practically impelling it,
-but not capable of being developed into a subject of
-contemplation. While the instinctive actions of animals are
-directed by such a principle, the deliberate actions of man
-are governed by insight: he can contemplate the ideal
-relations on which the result of his action depends. He can
-in his mind map the path he will follow, and estimate the
-force he will exert, and class the objects he has to deal
-with, and determine his actions by the relations which he
-thus has present to his mind. He thus possesses Ideas not
-only practically, but speculatively. And knowing that the
-Ideas by which he commonly directs his actions, Space,
-Cause, Resemblance, and the like, have been developed to
-that degree of clearness in which he possesses them by the
-assiduous exercise of the senses and the mind from the
-earliest stage of infancy, and that these Ideas are capable
-of being still further unfolded into long trains of
-speculative truth, he is unable to conceive the manner in
-which animals possess such Ideas as their instinctive
-actions disclose:--Ideas which neither require to be
-unfolded nor admit of unfolding; which are adequate for
-practical purposes without any previous exercise, and
-inadequate for speculative purposes with whatever labour
-cultivated.
-
-I have ventured to make these few remarks on Instinct since
-it may, perhaps, justly be considered as the last province
-of Biology, where we reach the boundary line of Psychology.
-I have now, before quitting this subject, only one other
-principle to speak of.
-
-
-
-{{239}}
-CHAPTER VI.
-
-OF THE IDEA OF FINAL CAUSES.
-
-
-1. BY an examination of those notions which enter into all
-our reasonings and judgments on living things, it appeared
-that we conceive animal life as a vortex or cycle of moving
-matter in which the form of the vortex determines the
-motions, and these motions again support the form of the
-vortex: the stationary parts circulate the fluids, and the
-fluids nourish the permanent parts. Each portion ministers
-to the others, each depends upon the other. The parts make
-up the whole, but the existence of the whole is essential to
-the preservation of the parts. But parts existing under such
-conditions are _organs_, and the whole is _organized_. This
-is the fundamental conception of organization. 'Organized
-beings,' says the physiologist[99\9], 'are composed of a
-number of essential and mutually dependent parts.' 'An
-organized product of nature,' says the great
-metaphysician[100\9], 'is that in which all the parts are
-mutually ends and means.'
-
-[Note 99\9: Müller, _Elem._ p. 18.]
-
-[Note 100\9: Kant, _Urtheilskraft_, p. 296.]
-
-2. It will be observed that we do not content ourselves with
-saying that in such a whole, all the parts are _mutually
-dependent_. This might be true even of a mechanical
-structure; it would be easy to imagine a framework in which
-each part should be necessary to the support of each of the
-others; for example, an arch of several stones. But in such
-a structure, the parts have no properties which they derive
-from the whole. They are beams or stones when separate; they
-are no more when joined. But the same is not the case in an
-organized whole. The limb of an animal separated {240} from
-the body, loses the properties of a limb, and soon ceases to
-retain even its form.
-
-3. Nor do we content ourselves with saying that the parts
-are _mutually causes and effects_. This is the case in
-machinery. In a clock, the pendulum by means of the
-escapement causes the descent of the weight, the weight by
-the same escapement keeps up the motion of the pendulum. But
-things of this kind may happen by accident. Stones slide
-from a rock down the side of a hill and cause it to be
-smooth; the smoothness of the slope causes stones still to
-slide. Yet no one would call such a slide an organized
-system. The system is organized, when the effects which take
-place among the parts are _essential to our conception of
-the whole_; when the whole would not _be_ a whole, nor the
-parts, parts, except these effects were produced; when the
-effects not only happen in fact, but are included in the
-idea of the object; when they are not only seen, but
-foreseen; not only expected, but intended: in short when,
-instead of being causes and effects, they are _ends_ and
-_means_, as they are termed in the above definition.
-
-Thus we necessarily include, in our Idea of Organization,
-the notion of an End, a Purpose, a Design; or, to use
-another phrase which has been peculiarly appropriated in
-this case, a _Final Cause_. This idea of a Final Cause is an
-essential condition in order to the pursuing our researches
-respecting organized bodies.
-
-4. This Idea of Final Cause is not _deduced_ from the
-phenomena by reasoning, but is _assumed_ as the only
-condition under which we can reason on such subjects at all.
-We do not deduce the Idea of Space, or Time, or efficient
-Cause from the phenomena about us, but necessarily look at
-phenomena as subordinate to these Ideas from the beginning
-of our reasoning. It is true, our ideas of relations of
-Space, and Time, and Force, may become much more clear by
-our familiarizing ourselves with particular phenomena: but
-still, the Fundamental Ideas are not generated, but
-unfolded; not extracted from the external world, but evolved
-from the world within. In like manner, in the contemplation
-of organic structures, we consider {241} each part as
-subservient to some use, and we cannot study the structure
-as organic without such a conception. This notion of
-adaptation,--this Idea of an End,--may become much more
-clear and impressive by seeing it exemplified in particular
-cases. But still, though suggested and evoked by special
-cases, it is not furnished by them. If it be not supplied by
-the mind itself, it can never be logically deduced from the
-phenomena. It is not a portion of the facts which we study,
-but it is a principle which connects, includes, and renders
-them intelligible; as our other Fundamental Ideas do the
-classes of facts to which they respectively apply.
-
-5. This has already been confirmed by reference to fact; in
-the History of Physiology, I have shown that those who
-studied the structure of animals were irresistibly led to
-the conviction that the parts of this structure have each
-its end or purpose;--that each member and organ not merely
-produces a certain effect or answers a certain use, but is
-so framed as to impress us with the persuasion that it was
-constructed _for_ that use:--that it was _intended_ to
-produce the effect. It was there seen that this persuasion
-was repeatedly expressed in the most emphatic manner by
-Galen;--that it directed the researches and led to the
-discoveries of Harvey;--that it has always been dwelt upon
-as a favourite contemplation, and followed as a certain
-guide, by the best anatomists;--and that it is inculcated by
-the physiologists of the profoundest views and most
-extensive knowledge of our own time. All these persons have
-deemed it a most certain and important principle of
-physiology, that in every organized structure, plant or
-animal, each intelligible part has its allotted
-office:--each organ is designed for its appropriate
-function:--that nature, in these cases, produces nothing in
-vain: that, in short, each portion of the whole arrangement
-has its _final cause_; an End to which it is adapted, and in
-this End, the reason that it is where and what it is.
-
-6. This Notion of Design in organized bodies must, I say, be
-supplied by the student of organization out of his own mind:
-a truth which will become clearer if {242} we attend to the
-most conspicuous and acknowledged instances of _design_. The
-structure of the Eye, in which the parts are curiously
-adjusted so as to produce a distinct image on the retina, as
-in an optical instrument;--the Trochlear Muscle of the eye,
-in which the tendon passes round a support and turns back,
-like a rope round a pulley;--the prospective contrivances
-for the preservation of animals, provided long before they
-are wanted, as the Milk of the mother, the Teeth of the
-child, the Eyes and Lungs of the fœtus:--these arrangements,
-and innumerable others, call up in us a persuasion that
-Design has entered into the plan of animal form and
-progress. And if we bring in our minds this conception of
-Design, nothing can more fully square with and fit it, than
-such instances as these. But if we did not already possess
-the Idea of Design;--if we had not had our notion of
-mechanical contrivance awakened by inspection of optical
-instruments, or pulleys, or in some other way:--if we had
-never been conscious ourselves of providing for the
-future;--if this were the case, we could not recognize
-contrivance and prospectiveness in such instances as we have
-referred to. The facts are, indeed, admirably in accordance
-with these conceptions, when the two are brought together:
-but the facts and the conceptions come together from
-different quarters--from without and from within.
-
-7. We may further illustrate this point by referring to the
-relations of travellers who tell us that when consummate
-examples of human mechanical contrivance have been set
-before savages, they have appeared incapable of apprehending
-them as proofs of design. This shows that in such cases the
-Idea of Design had not been developed in the minds of the
-people who were thus unintelligent: but it no more proves
-that such an idea does not naturally and necessarily arise,
-in the progress of men's minds, than the confused manner in
-which the same savages apprehend the relations of space, or
-number, or cause, proves that these ideas do not naturally
-belong to their intellects. All men have these ideas; and it
-is because they {243} cannot help referring their sensations
-to such ideas, that they apprehend the world as existing in
-time and space, and as a series of causes and effects. It
-would be very erroneous to say that the belief of such
-truths is obtained by logical reasoning from facts. And in
-like manner we cannot logically deduce design from the
-contemplation of organic structures; although it is
-impossible for us, when the facts are clearly before us, not
-to find a reference to design operating in our minds.
-
-8. Again; the evidence of the doctrine of Final Causes as a
-fundamental principle of Biology may be obscured and
-weakened in some minds by the constant habit of viewing this
-doctrine with suspicion as unphilosophical and at variance
-with Morphology. By cherishing such views, it is probable
-that many persons, physiologists and others, have gradually
-brought themselves to suppose that many or most of the
-arrangements which are familiarly adduced as instances of
-design may be accounted for, or explained away;--that there
-is a certain degree of prejudice and narrowness of
-comprehension in that lively admiration of the adaptation of
-means to ends which common minds derive from the spectacle
-of organic arrangements. And yet, even in persons accustomed
-to these views, the strong and natural influence of the Idea
-of a Final Cause, the spontaneous recognition of the
-relation of Means to an End as the assumption which makes
-organic arrangements intelligible, breaks forth when we
-bring before them a new case, with regard to which their
-genuine convictions have not yet been modified by their
-intellectual habits. I will offer, as an example which may
-serve to illustrate this, the discoveries recently made with
-regard to the process of Suckling in the Kangaroo. In the
-case of this, as of other pouched animals, the young animal
-is removed, while very small and imperfectly formed, from
-the womb to the pouch, in which the teats are, and is there
-placed with its lips against one of the nipples. But the
-young animal taken altogether is not so large as the nipple,
-and is therefore incapable of sucking after the manner of
-common mammals. Here is a difficulty: {244} how is it
-overcome?--By an appropriate _contrivance_: the nipple,
-which in common mammals is not furnished with any muscle, is
-in the kangaroo provided with a powerful extrusory muscle by
-which the mother can inject the milk into the mouth of her
-offspring. And again; in order to give attachment to this
-muscle there is a bone which is not found in animals of
-other kinds. But this mode of solving the problem of
-suckling so small a creature introduces another difficulty.
-If the milk is injected into the mouth of the young one,
-without any action of its own muscles, what is to prevent
-the fluid entering the windpipe and producing suffocation?
-How is this danger avoided?--By another appropriate
-_contrivance_: there is a funnel in the back of the throat
-by which the air passage is completely separated from the
-passage for nutriment, and the injected milk passes in a
-divided stream on each side of the larynx to the
-œsophagus[101\9]. And as if to show that this apparatus is
-really formed with a view to the wants of the young one, the
-structure alters in the course of the animal's growth; and
-the funnel, no longer needed, is modified and disappears.
-
-[Note 101\9: Mr. Owen, in _Phil. Trans._ 1834, p. 348.]
-
-With regard to this and similar examples, the remark which I
-would urge is this:--that no one, however prejudiced or
-unphilosophical he may in general deem the reference to
-Final Causes, can, at the first impression, help regarding
-this curious system of arrangement as the Means to an End.
-So contemplated, it becomes significant, intelligible,
-admirable: without such a principle, it is an unmeaning
-complexity, a collection of contradictions, producing an
-almost impossible result by a portentous conflict of
-chances. The parts of this apparatus cannot have produced
-one another: one part is in the mother; another part in the
-young one: without their harmony they could not be
-effective; but nothing except design can operate to make
-them harmonious. They are _intended_ to work together; and
-we cannot resist the conviction of this intention when the
-facts first come before us. Perhaps {245} there may
-hereafter be physiologists who, tracing the gradual
-development of the parts of which we have spoken, and the
-analogies which connect them with the structures of other
-animals, may think that this development, these analogies,
-account for the conformation we have described; and may
-hence think lightly of the explanation derived from the
-reference to Final Causes. Yet surely it is clear, on a calm
-consideration of the subject, that the latter explanation is
-not disturbed by the former; and that the observer's first
-impression, that this is 'an irrefragable evidence of
-creative foresight[102\9],' can never be obliterated;
-however much it may be obscured in the minds of those who
-confuse this view by mixing it with others which are utterly
-heterogeneous to it, and therefore cannot be contradictory.
-
-[Note 102\9: Mr. Owen, in _Phil. Trans._ 1834, p. 349.]
-
-9. I have elsewhere[103\9] remarked how physiologists, who
-thus look with suspicion and dislike upon the introduction
-of Final Causes into physiology, have still been unable to
-exclude from their speculations causes of this kind. Thus
-Cabanis says[104\9], 'I regard with the great Bacon, the
-philosophy of Final Causes as sterile; but I have elsewhere
-acknowledged that it was very difficult for the most
-cautious man never to have recourse to them in his
-explanations.' Accordingly, he says, 'The partisans of Final
-Causes nowhere find arguments so strong in favour of their
-way of looking at nature as in the laws which preside and
-the circumstances of all kinds which concur in the
-reproduction of living races. In no case do the means
-employed appear so clearly relative to the end.' And it
-would be easy to find similar acknowledgments, express or
-virtual, in other writers of the same kind. Thus Bichat,
-after noting the difference between the organic sensibility
-by which the organs are made to perform their offices, and
-the animal sensibility of which the {246} nervous center is
-the seat, says[105\9], 'No doubt it will be asked,
-_why_'--that is, as we shall see, for what _end_--'the
-organs of internal life have received from nature an
-inferior degree of sensibility only, and why they do not
-transmit to the brain the impressions which they receive,
-while all the acts of the animal life imply this
-transmission? The reason is simply this, that all the
-phenomena which establish our connexions with surrounding
-objects _ought to be_, and are in fact, under the influence
-of the Will; while all those which serve for the purpose of
-assimilation only, escape, and _ought_ indeed to escape,
-such influence.' The _reason_ here assigned is the Final
-Cause; which, as Bichat justly says, we cannot help asking
-for.
-
-[Note 103\9: _Bridgewater Treatise_, p. 352.]
-
-[Note 104\9: _Rapports du Physique et du Moral_, i. 299.]
-
-[Note 105\9: _Life and Death_, (trans.) p. 32.]
-
-10. Again; I may quote from the writer last mentioned
-another remark, which shows that in the organical sciences,
-and in them alone, the Idea of forces as Means acting to an
-End, is inevitably assumed and acknowledged as of supreme
-authority. In Biology alone, observes Bichat[106\9], have we
-to contemplate the state of _Disease_. 'Physiology is to the
-movements of living bodies, what astronomy, dynamics,
-hydraulics, &e., are to those of inert matter: but these
-latter sciences have no branches which correspond to them as
-Pathology corresponds to Physiology. For the same reason all
-notion of a Medicament is repugnant to the physical
-sciences. A Medicament has for its object to bring the
-properties of the system back to their Natural Type; but the
-physical properties never depart from this Type, and have no
-need to be brought back to it: and thus there is nothing in
-the physical sciences which holds the place of Therapeutick
-in Physiology.' Or, as we might express it otherwise, of
-inert forces we have no conception of what they _ought to
-do_, except what they _do_. The forces of gravity,
-elasticity, affinity, never act in a _diseased_ manner; we
-never conceive them as failing in their purpose; for we do
-not conceive them as having any purpose which is answered by
-one mode of their action rather than {247} another. But with
-_organical_ forces the case is different; they are
-necessarily conceived as acting for the preservation and
-development of the system in which they reside. If they do
-not do this, they fail, they are deranged, diseased. They
-have for their object to conform the living being to a
-certain type; and if they cause or allow it to deviate from
-this type, their action is distorted, morbid, contrary to
-the ends of nature. And thus this conception of organized
-beings as susceptible of disease, implies the recognition of
-a state of health, and of the organs and the vital forces as
-means for preserving this normal condition. The state of
-health, and of perpetual development, is necessarily
-contemplated as the Final Cause of the processes and powers
-with which the different parts of plants and animals are
-endowed.
-
-[Note 106\9: _Anatomie Générale_, i. liii.]
-
-11. This Idea of a Final Cause is applicable as a
-fundamental and regulative idea to our speculations
-concerning organized creatures only. That there is a purpose
-in many other parts of the creation, we find abundant reason
-to believe, from the arrangements and laws which prevail
-around us. But this persuasion is not to be allowed to
-regulate and direct our reasonings with regard to inorganic
-matter, of which conception the relation of means and end
-forms no essential part. In mere Physics, Final Causes, as
-Bacon has observed, are not to be admitted as a principle of
-reasoning. But in the organical sciences, the assumption of
-design and purpose in every part of every whole, that is,
-the pervading idea of Final Cause, is the basis of sound
-reasoning and the source of true doctrine.
-
-12. The Idea of Final Cause, of end, purpose, design,
-intention, is altogether different from the Idea of Cause,
-as Efficient Cause, which we formerly had to consider; and
-on this account the use of the word Cause in this phrase has
-been objected to. If the idea be clearly entertained and
-steadily applied, the word is a question of subordinate
-importance. The term Final Cause has been long familiarly
-used, and appears not likely to lead to confusion. {248}
-
-13. The consideration of Final Causes, both in physiology
-and in other subjects, has at all times attracted much
-attention, in consequence of its bearing upon the belief of
-an Intelligent Author of the Universe. I do not intend, in
-this place, to pursue the subject far in this view: but
-there is one antithesis of opinion, already noticed in the
-History of Physiology, on which I will again make a few
-remarks[107\9].
-
-[Note 107\9: _Hist. Ind. Sc._ b. xvii. c. viii. On the
-Doctrine of Final Causes in Physiology.]
-
-It has appeared to some persons that the mere aspect of
-order and symmetry in the works of nature--the contemplation
-of comprehensive and consistent law--is sufficient to lead
-us to the conception of a design and intelligence producing
-the order and carrying into effect the law. Without here
-attempting to decide whether this is true, we may discern,
-after what has been said, that the conception of Design,
-arrived at in this manner, is altogether different from that
-Idea of Design which is suggested to us by organized bodies,
-and which we describe as the doctrine of Final Causes. The
-regular form of a crystal, whatever beautiful symmetry it
-may exhibit, whatever general laws it may exemplify, does
-not prove design in the same manner in which design is
-proved by the provisions for the preservation and growth of
-the seeds of plants, and of the young of animals. The law of
-universal gravitation, however wide and simple, does not
-impress us with the belief of a purpose, as does that
-propensity by which the two sexes of each animal are brought
-together. If it could be shown that the symmetrical
-structure of a flower results from laws of the same kind as
-those which determine the regular forms of crystals, or the
-motions of the planets, the discovery might be very striking
-and important, but it would not at all come under our idea
-of Final Cause.
-
-14. Accordingly, there have been, in modern times, two
-different schools of physiologists, the one proceeding upon
-the idea of Final Causes, the other school {249} seeking in
-the realm of organized bodies wide laws and analogies from
-which that idea is excluded. All the great biologists of
-preceding times, and some of the greatest of modern times,
-have belonged to the former school; and especially Cuvier,
-who may be considered as the head of it. It was solely by
-the assiduous application of this principle of Final Cause,
-as he himself constantly declared, that he was enabled to
-make the discoveries which have rendered his name so
-illustrious, and which contain a far larger portion of
-important anatomical and biological truth than it ever
-before fell to the lot of one man to contribute to the science.
-
-The opinions which have been put in opposition to the
-principle of Final Causes have, for the most part, been
-stated vaguely and ambiguously. Among the most definite of
-such principles, is that which, in the History of the
-subject, I have termed the Principle of Metamorphosed and
-Developed Symmetry, upon which has been founded the science
-of Morphology.
-
-The reality and importance of this principle are not to be
-denied by us: we have shown how they are proved by its
-application in various sciences, and especially in botany.
-But those advocates of this principle who have placed it in
-antithesis to the doctrine of Final Causes, have, by this
-means, done far more injustice to their own favourite
-doctrine than damage to the one which they opposed. The
-adaptation of the bones of the skeleton to the muscles, the
-provision of fulcrums, projecting processes, channels, so
-that the motions and forces shall be such as the needs of
-life require, cannot possibly become less striking and
-convincing, from any discovery of general analogies of one
-animal frame with another, or of laws connecting the
-development of different parts. Whenever such laws are
-discovered, we can only consider them as the means of
-producing that adaptation which we so much admire. Our
-conviction that the Artist works intelligently, is not
-destroyed, though it may be modified and transferred, when
-we obtain a sight of his tools. Our discovery of laws cannot
-contradict our persuasion of ends; our Morphology cannot
-prejudice our Teleology. {250}
-
-15. The irresistible and constant apprehension of a purpose
-in the forms and functions of animals has introduced into
-the writings of speculators on these subjects various forms
-of expression, more or less precise, more or less
-figurative; as, that 'animals are framed with a view to the
-part which they have to play;'--that 'nature does nothing in
-vain;' that 'she employs the best means for her ends;' and
-the like. However metaphorical or inexact any of these
-phrases may be in particular, yet taken altogether, they
-convey, clearly and definitely enough to preclude any
-serious errour, a principle of the most profound reality and
-of the highest importance in the organical sciences. But
-some adherents of the morphological school of which 1 have
-spoken reject, and even ridicule, all such modes of
-expression. 'I know nothing,' says M. Geoffroy Saint
-Hilaire, 'of animals which have to play a part in nature. I
-cannot make of nature an intelligent being who does nothing
-in vain; who acts by the shortest mode; who does all for the
-best.' The philosophers of this school, therefore, do not,
-it would seem, feel any of the admiration which is
-irresistibly excited in all the rest of mankind at the
-contemplation of the various and wonderful adaptations for
-the preservation, the enjoyment, the continuation of the
-creatures which people the globe;--at the survey of the
-mechanical contrivances, the chemical agencies, the
-prospective arrangements, the compensations, the minute
-adaptations, the comprehensive interdependencies, which
-zoology and physiology have brought into view, more and
-more, the further their researches have been carried. Yet
-the clear and deep-seated conviction of the reality of these
-provisions, which the study of anatomy produces in its most
-profound and accurate cultivators, cannot be shaken by any
-objections to the metaphors or terms in which this
-conviction is clothed. In regard to the Idea of a Purpose in
-organization, as in regard to any other idea, we cannot
-fully express our meaning by phrases borrowed from any
-extraneous source; but that impossibility arises precisely
-from the circumstance of its being a Fundamental Idea which
-is inevitably assumed in our {251} representation of each
-special fact. The same objection has been made to the idea
-of mechanical _force_, on account of its being often
-expressed in metaphorical language; for writers have spoken
-of an _energy_, _effort_, or _solicitation_ to motion; and
-bodies have been said to be _animated_ by a force. Such
-language, it has been urged, implies volition, and the act
-of animated beings. But the idea of Force as distinct from
-mere motion,--as the Cause of motion, or of tendency to
-motion,--is not on that account less real. We endeavour in
-vain to conduct our mechanical reasonings without the aid of
-this idea, and must express it as we can. Just as little can
-we reason concerning organized beings without assuming that
-each part has its function, each function its purpose; and
-so far as our phrases imply this, they will not mislead us,
-however inexact, or however figurative they be.
-
-16. The doctrine of a purpose in Organization has been
-sometimes called the doctrine of _the Conditions of
-Existence_; and has been stated as teaching that each animal
-must be so framed as to contain in its structure the
-Conditions which its existence requires. When expressed in
-this manner, it has given rise to the objection, that it
-merely offers an identical proposition; since no animal can
-exist without such conditions. But in reality, such
-expressions as those just quoted give an inadequate
-statement of the Principle of a Final Cause. For we discover
-in innumerable cases, arrangements in an animal, of which we
-see, indeed, that they are subservient to its well being;
-but the nature of which we never should have been able at
-all to conjecture, from considering what was necessary to
-its existence, and which strike us, no less by their
-unexpectedness than by their adaptation: so far are they
-from being presented by any perceptible necessity. Who would
-venture to say that the trochlear muscle, or the power of
-articulate speech, must occur in man, because they are the
-necessary conditions of his existence? When, indeed, the
-general scheme and mode of being of an animal are known, the
-expert and profound anatomist can reason concerning the
-proportions and {252} form of its various parts and organs,
-and prove in some measure what their relations must be. We
-can assert, with Cuvier, that certain forms of the viscera
-require certain forms of the teeth, certain forms of the
-limbs, certain powers of the senses. But in all this, the
-functions of self-nutrition and digestion are supposed
-already existing as ends: and it being taken for granted, as
-the only conceivable basis of reasoning, that the organs are
-means to these ends, we may discover what modifications of
-these organs are necessarily related to and connected with
-each other. Instead of terming this rule of speculation
-merely 'the Principle of the Conditions of Existence,' we
-might term it 'the Principle of the conditions of organs as
-_Means_ adapted to animal existence as their _End_.' And how
-far this principle is from being a mere barren truism, the
-extraordinary discoveries made by the great assertor of the
-principle, and universally assented to by naturalists,
-abundantly prove. The vast extinct creation which is
-recalled to life in Cuvier's great work, the _Ossemens
-Fossiles_, cannot be the consequence of a mere identical
-proposition.
-
-17. It has been objected, also, that the doctrine of Final
-Causes supposes us to be acquainted with the intentions of
-the Creator; which, it is insinuated, is a most presumptuous
-and irrational basis for our reasonings. But there can be
-nothing presumptuous or irrational in reasoning on that
-basis, which if we reject, we cannot reason at all. If men
-really can discern, and cannot help discerning, a design in
-certain portions of the works of creation, this perception
-is the soundest and most satisfactory ground for the
-convictions to which it leads. The Ideas which we
-necessarily employ in the contemplation of the world around
-us, afford us the only natural means of forming any
-conception of the Creator and Governor of the Universe; and
-if we are by such means enabled to elevate our thoughts,
-however inadequately, towards Him, where is the presumption
-of doing so? or rather, where is the wisdom of refusing to
-open our minds to contemplations so animating and elevating,
-and yet {253} so entirely convincing? We possess the ideas
-of Time and Space, under which all the objects of the
-universe present themselves to us; and in virtue of these
-ideas thus possessed, we believe the Creator to be eternal
-and omnipotent. When we find that we, in like manner,
-possess the idea of a Design in Creation, and that with
-regard to ourselves, and creatures more or less resembling
-ourselves, we cannot but contemplate their constitution
-under this idea, we cannot abstain from ascribing to the
-Creator the infinite profundity and extent of design to
-which all these special instances belong as parts of a whole.
-
-18. I have here considered Design as manifest in
-organization only: for in that field of speculation it is
-forced upon us as contained in all the phenomena, and as the
-only mode of our understanding them. The existence of Final
-Causes has often been pointed out in other portions of the
-creation;--for instance, in the apparent adaptations of the
-various parts of the earth and of the solar system to each
-other and to organized beings. In these provinces of
-speculation, however, the principle of Final Causes is no
-longer the basis and guide, but the sequel and result of our
-physical reasonings. If in looking at the universe, we
-follow the widest analogies of which we obtain a view, we
-see, however dimly, reason to believe that all its laws are
-adapted to each other, and intended to work together for the
-benefit of its organic population, and for the general
-welfare of its rational tenants. On this subject, however,
-not immediately included in the principle of Final Causes as
-here stated, I shall not dwell. I will only make this
-remark; that the assertion appears to be quite unfounded,
-that as science advances from point to point, Final Causes
-recede before it, and disappear one after the other. The
-principle of design changes its mode of application indeed,
-but it loses none of its force. We no longer consider
-particular facts as produced by special interpositions, but
-we consider design as exhibited in the establishment and
-adjustment of the laws by which particular facts are
-produced. We do not look upon each particular {254} cloud as
-brought near us that it may drop fatness on our fields; but
-the general adaptation of the laws of heat, and air, and
-moisture, to the promotion of vegetation, does not become
-doubtful. We do not consider the sun as less intended to
-warm and vivify the tribes of plants and animals, because we
-find that, instead of revolving round the earth as an
-attendant, the earth along with other planets revolves round
-him. We are rather, by the discovery of the general laws of
-nature, led into a scene of wider design, of deeper
-contrivance, of more comprehensive adjustments. Final
-causes, if they appear driven further from us by such an
-extension of our views, embrace us only with a vaster and
-more majestic circuit: instead of a few threads' connecting
-some detached objects, they become a stupendous net-work,
-which is wound round and round the universal frame of things.
-
-19. I now quit the subject of Biology, and with it the
-circle of sciences depending upon separate original Ideas
-and permanent relations. If from the general relations which
-permanently prevail and constantly recur among the objects
-around us, we turn to the inquiry of what has actually
-happened,--if from Science we turn to History,--we find
-ourselves in a new field. In this region of speculation we
-can rarely obtain a complete and scientific view of the
-connexion between objects and events. The past History of
-Man, of the Arts, of Languages, of the Earth, of the Solar
-System, offers a vast series of problems, of which perhaps
-not one has been rigorously solved. Still, man, as his
-speculative powers unfold themselves, cannot but feel
-prompted and invited to employ his thoughts even on these
-problems. He cannot but wish and endeavour to understand the
-connexion between the successive links of such chains of
-events. He attempts to form a Science which shall be
-applicable to each of these Histories; and thus he begins to
-construct the class of sciences to which I now, in the last
-place, proceed.
-
-
-
-
-{{255}}
-BOOK X.
-
-
-THE
-PHILOSOPHY
-OF
-PALÆTIOLOGY.
-
-
-
-
-τὴν μὲν οὖν τοιαύτην _Αἰτιολογίαν_ ἧττον ἄν τις ἀποδέξαιτο·
-μᾶλλον _δ᾽ ἀπὸ τῶν φανερωτέρων_ καὶ τῶν καθ᾽ ἡμέραν τρόπον
-τινὰ ὁρωμένων ἀναπτέον τὸν λόγον. Καὶ γὰρ κατακλυσμοὶ, καὶ
-σεισμοὶ, καὶ ἀναφυσήματα, καὶ ἀνοιδήσεις τῆς ὑφάλου γῆς,
-μετεωρίζουσι καὶ τὴν θάλατταν· αἱ δὲ συνιζήσεις ταπεινοῦσιν
-αὐτήν.
-
-STRABO, _Geogr._ 1. p. 54.
-
-
-IT is therefore, not so much what these forms of the earth
-actually are, as what they are continually becoming, that we
-have to observe; nor is it possible thus to observe them
-without an instinctive reference to the first state out of
-which they have been brought.... Yet to such questions
-continually suggesting themselves, it is never possible to
-give a complete answer. For a certain distance, the past
-work of existing forces can be traced; but then gradually
-the mist gathers, and the footsteps of more gigantic
-agencies are traceable in the darkness; and still as we
-endeavour to penetrate further and further into departed
-time, the thunder of the Almighty power sounds louder and
-louder, and the clouds gather broader and more fearfully,
-until at last the Sinai of the world is seen altogether upon
-a smoke, and the fence of its foot is reached, where none
-can break through.
-
-RUSKIN, _Modern Painters_, Vol. IV. p. 143.
-
-
-
-{{257}}
-BOOK X.
-
-
-THE PHILOSOPHY OF PALÆTIOLOGY.
-
-
-CHAPTER I.
-
-OF PALÆTIOLOGICAL SCIENCES IN GENERAL.
-
-
-1. I HAVE already stated in the _History of the
-Sciences_[1\10], that the class of Sciences which I
-designate as _Palætiological_ are those in which the object
-is to ascend from the present state of things to a more
-ancient condition, from which the present is derived by
-intelligible causes. As conspicuous examples of this class
-we may take Geology, Glossology or Comparative Philology,
-and Comparative Archæology. These provinces of knowledge
-might perhaps be intelligibly described as _Histories_; the
-History of the Earth,--the History of Languages,--the
-History of Arts. But these phrases would not fully describe
-the sciences we have in view; for the object to which we now
-suppose their investigations to be directed is, not merely
-to ascertain what the series of events has been, as in the
-common forms of History, but also how it has been brought
-about. These sciences are to treat of causes as well as of
-effects. Such researches might be termed _Philosophical
-History_; or, in order to mark more distinctly that the
-_causes_ of events are the leading object of attention,
-_Ætiological History_. But since {258} it will be more
-convenient to describe this class of sciences by a single
-appellation, I have taken the liberty of proposing to call
-them[2\10] the _Palætiological_ Sciences.
-
-[Note 1\10: B. xviii. Introd.]
-
-[Note 2\10: A philological writer, in a very interesting
-work (Mr. Donaldson, in his _New Cratylus_, p. 12),
-expresses his dislike of this word, and suggests that I must
-mean _palæ-ætiological_. I think the word is more likely to
-obtain currency in the more compact and euphonious form in
-which I have used it. It has been adopted by Mr. Winning, in
-his _Manual of Comparative Philology_, and more recently, by
-other writers.]
-
-While Palæontology describes the beings which have lived in
-former ages without investigating their causes, and
-_Ætiology_ treats of causes without distinguishing
-historical from mechanical causation; _Palætiology_ is a
-combination of the two sciences; exploring, by means of the
-second, the phenomena presented by the first. The portions
-of knowledge which I include in this term are
-palæontological ætiological sciences.
-
-2. All these sciences are connected by this bond;--that they
-all endeavour to ascend to a past state, by considering what
-is the present state of things, and what are the causes of
-change. Geology examines the existing appearance of the
-materials which form the earth, infers from them previous
-conditions, and speculates concerning the forces by which
-one condition has been made to succeed another. Another
-science, cultivated with great zeal and success in modern
-times, compares the languages of different countries and
-nations, and by an examination of their materials and
-structure, endeavours to determine their descent from one
-another: this science has been termed _Comparative
-Philology_, or _Ethnography_; and by the French,
-_Linguistique_, a word which we might imitate in order to
-have a single name for the science, but the Greek derivative
-_Glossology_ appears to be more convenient in its form. The
-progress of the Arts (Architecture and the like);--how one
-stage of the culture produced another; and how far we can
-trace their maturest and most complete condition to their
-earliest form in various nations;--are problems of great
-interest belonging to another subject, which we may for the
-present term {259} _Comparative Archæology_. I have already
-noticed, in the History[3\10] how the researches into the
-origin of natural objects, and those relating to works of
-art, pass by slight gradations into each other; how the
-examination of the changes which have affected an ancient
-temple or fortress, harbour or river, may concern alike the
-geologist and the antiquary. Cuvier's assertion that the
-geologist is an antiquary of a new order, is perfectly
-correct, for both are palætiologists.
-
-[Note 3\10: B. xviii. Introd.]
-
-3. We are very far from having exhausted, by this
-enumeration, the class of sciences which are thus connected.
-We may easily point out many other subjects of speculation
-of the same kind. As we may look back towards the first
-condition of our planet, we may in like manner turn our
-thoughts towards the first condition of the solar system,
-and try whether we can discern any traces of an order of
-things antecedent to that which is now established; and if
-we find, as some great mathematicians have conceived,
-indications of an earlier state in which the planets were
-not yet gathered into their present forms, we have, in the
-pursuit of this train of research, a palætiological portion
-of Astronomy. Again, as we may inquire how languages, and
-how man, have been diffused over the earth's surface from
-place to place, we may make the like inquiry with regard to
-the races of plants and animals, founding our inferences
-upon the existing geographical distribution of the animal
-and vegetable kingdoms: and thus the Geography of Plants and
-of Animals also becomes a portion of Palætiology. Again, as
-we can in some measure trace the progress of Arts from
-nation to nation and from age to age, we can also pursue a
-similar investigation with respect to the progress of
-Mythology, of Poetry, of Government, of Law. Thus the
-philosophical history of the human race, viewed with
-reference to these subjects, if it can give rise to
-knowledge so exact as to be properly called Science, will
-supply Sciences belonging to the class I am now to consider. {260}
-
-4. It is not an arbitrary and useless proceeding to
-construct such a Class of Sciences. For wide and various as
-their subjects are, it will be found that they have all
-certain principles, maxims, and rules of procedure in
-common; and thus may reflect light upon each other by being
-treated of together. Indeed it will, I trust, appear, that
-we may by such a juxtaposition of different speculations,
-obtain most salutary lessons. And questions, which, when
-viewed as they first present themselves under the aspect of
-a special science, disturb and alarm men's minds, may
-perhaps be contemplated more calmly, as well as more
-clearly, when they are considered as general problems of
-palætiology.
-
-5. It will at once occur to the reader that, if we include
-in the circuit of our classification such subjects as have
-been mentioned,--politics and law, mythology and poetry,--we
-are travelling very far beyond the material sciences within
-whose limits we at the outset proposed to confine our
-discussion of principles. But we shall remain faithful to
-our original plan; and for that purpose shall confine
-ourselves, in this work, to those palætiological sciences
-which deal with material things. It is true, that the
-general principles and maxims which regulate these sciences
-apply also to investigations of a parallel kind respecting
-the products which result from man's imaginative and social
-endowments. But although there may be a similarity in the
-general form of such portions of knowledge, their materials
-are so different from those with which we have been hitherto
-dealing, that we cannot hope to take them into our present
-account with any profit. Language, Government, Law, Poetry,
-Art, embrace a number of peculiar Fundamental Ideas,
-hitherto not touched upon in the disquisitions in which we
-have been engaged; and most of them involved in far greater
-perplexity and ambiguity, the subject of controversies far
-more vehement, than the Ideas we have hitherto been
-examining. We must therefore avoid resting any part of our
-philosophy upon sciences, or supposed sciences, which treat
-of such subjects. To attend to this caution, {261} is the
-only way in which we can secure the advantage we proposed to
-ourselves at the outset, of taking, as the basis of our
-speculations, none but systems of undisputed truths, clearly
-understood and expressed[4\10]. We have already said that we
-must, knowingly and voluntarily, resign that livelier and
-warmer interest which doctrines on subjects of Polity or Art
-possess, and content ourselves with the cold truths of the
-material sciences, in order that we may avoid having the
-very foundations of our philosophy involved in controversy,
-doubt, and obscurity.
-
-[Note 4\10: See Introd. p. 9.]
-
-6. We may remark, however, that the necessity of rejecting
-from our survey a large portion of the researches which the
-general notion of Palætiology includes, suggests one
-consideration which adds to the interest of our task. We
-began our inquiry with the trust that any sound views which
-we should be able to obtain respecting the nature of Truth
-in the physical sciences, and the mode of discovering it,
-must also tend to throw light upon the nature and prospects
-of knowledge of all other kinds;--must be useful to us in
-moral, political, and philological researches. We stated
-this as a confident anticipation; and the evidence of the
-justice of our belief already begins to appear. We have
-seen, in the last Book, that biology leads us to psychology,
-if we choose to follow the path; and thus the passage from
-the material to the immaterial has already unfolded itself
-at one point; and we now perceive that there are several
-large provinces of speculation which concern subjects
-belonging to man's immaterial nature, and which are governed
-by the same laws as sciences altogether physical. It is not
-our business here to dwell on the prospects which our
-philosophy thus opens to our contemplation; but we may allow
-ourselves, in this last stage of our pilgrimage among the
-foundations of the physical sciences, to be cheered and
-animated by the ray {262} that thus beams upon us, however
-dimly, from a higher and brighter region.
-
-But in our reasonings and examples we shall mainly confine
-ourselves to the physical sciences; and for the most part to
-Geology, which in the _History_ I have put forwards as the
-best representative of the Palætiological Sciences.
-
-
-
-{{263}}
-CHAPTER II.
-
-OF THE THREE MEMBERS OF A PALÆTIOLOGICAL SCIENCE.
-
-
-1. _Divisions of such Sciences._--IN each of the Sciences of
-this class we consider some particular order of phenomena
-now existing:--from our knowledge of the causes of change
-among such phenomena, we endeavour to infer the causes which
-have made this order of things what it is:--we ascend in
-this manner to some previous stage of such phenomena;--and
-from that, by a similar course of inference, to a still
-earlier stage, and to its causes. Hence it will be seen that
-each such science will consist of two parts,--the knowledge
-of the Phenomena, and the knowledge of their Causes. And
-such a division is, in fact, generally recognized in such
-sciences: thus we have History, and the Philosophy of
-History; we have Comparison of Languages, and the Theories
-of the Origin and Progress of Language; we have Descriptive
-Geology, and Theoretical or Physical Geology. In all these
-cases, the relation between the two parts in these several
-provinces of knowledge is nearly the same; and it may, on
-some occasions at least, be useful to express the
-distinction in a uniform or general manner. The
-investigation of Causes has been termed _Ætiology_ by
-philosophical writers, and this term we may use, in
-contradistinction to the mere _Phenomenology_ of each such
-department of knowledge. And thus we should have _Phenomenal
-Geology_ and _Ætiological Geology_, for the two divisions of
-the science which we have above termed _Descriptive_ and
-_Theoretical Geology_.
-
-2. _The Study of Causes._--But our knowledge respecting the
-causes which actually _have_ produced any {264} order of
-phenomena must be arrived at by ascertaining what the causes
-of change in such matters _can_ do. In order to learn, for
-example, what share earthquakes, and volcanoes, and the
-beating of the ocean against its shores, ought to have in
-our Theory of Geology, we must make out what effects these
-agents of change are able to produce. And this must be done,
-not hastily, or unsystematically, but in a careful and
-connected manner; in short, this study of the causes of
-change in each order of phenomena must become a distinct
-body of Science, which must include a large amount of
-knowledge, both comprehensive and precise, before it can be
-applied to the construction of a theory. We must have an
-Ætiology corresponding to each order of phenomena.
-
-3. _Ætiology._--In the History of Geology, I have spoken of
-the necessity for such an Ætiology with regard to geological
-phenomena: this necessity I have compared with that which,
-at the time of Kepler, required the formation of a separate
-science of Dynamics (the doctrine of the Causes of Motion),
-before Physical Astronomy could grow out of Phenomenal
-Astronomy. In pursuance of this analogy, I have there given
-the name of _Geological Dynamics_ to the science which
-treats of the causes of geological change in general. But,
-as I have there intimated, in a large portion of the subject
-the changes are so utterly different in their nature from
-any modification of motion, that the term _Dynamics_, so
-applied, sounds harsh and strange. For in this science we
-have to treat, not only of the subterraneous forces by which
-parts of the earth's crust are shaken, elevated, or
-ruptured, but also of the causes which may change the
-climate of a portion of the earth's surface, making a
-country hotter or colder than in former ages; again, we have
-to treat of the causes which modify the forms and habits of
-animals and vegetables, and of the extent to which the
-effects of such causes can proceed; whether, for instance,
-they can extinguish old species and produce new. These and
-other similar investigations would not be naturally included
-in the notion of _Dynamics_; and therefore it {265} might
-perhaps be better to use the term _Ætiology_ when we wish to
-group together all those researches which have it for their
-object to determine the laws of such changes. In the same
-manner the Comparison and History of Languages, if it is to
-lead to any stable and exact knowledge, must have appended
-to it an Ætiology, which aims at determining the nature and
-the amount of the causes which really do produce changes in
-language; as colonization, conquest, the mixture of races,
-civilization, literature, and the like. And the same rule
-applies to all sciences of this class. We shall now make a
-few remarks on the characteristics of such branches of
-science as those to which we are led by the above
-considerations.
-
-4. _Phenomenology requires Classification. Phenomenal
-Geology._--The Phenomenal portions of each science imply
-Classification, for no description of a large and varied
-mass of phenomena can be useful or intelligible without
-classification. A representation of phenomena, in order to
-answer the purposes of science, must be systematic.
-Accordingly, in giving the History of Descriptive or
-Phenomenal Geology, I have called it _Systematic Geology_,
-just as Classificatory Botany is termed _Systematic Botany_.
-Moreover, as we have already seen, Classification can never
-be an arbitrary process, but always implies some natural
-connexion among the objects of the same Class; for if this
-connexion did not exist, the Classes could not be made the
-subjects of any true assertion. Yet though the classes of
-phenomena which our system acknowledges must be such as
-already exist in nature, the discovery of these classes is,
-for the most part, very far from obvious or easy. To detect
-the true principles of Natural Classes, and to select marks
-by which these may be recognized, are steps which require
-genius and good fortune, and which fall to the lot only of
-the most eminent persons in each science. In the History, I
-have pointed out Werner, William Smith, and Cuvier, as the
-three great authors of Systematic Geology of Europe. The
-mode of classifying the materials of the earth's surface
-which was found, by these philosophers, fitted to {266}
-enunciate such general facts as came under their notice, was
-to consider the rocks and other materials as divided into
-successive layers or strata, superimposed one on another,
-and variously inclined and broken. The German geologist
-distinguished his strata for the most part by their
-mineralogical character; the other two, by the remains of
-animals and plants which the rocks contained. After a
-beginning had thus been made in giving a genuine scientific
-form to phenomenal geology, other steps followed in rapid
-succession, as has already been related in the
-History[5\10]. The Classification of the Strata was fixed by
-a suitable Nomenclature. Attempts were made to apply to
-other countries the order of strata which had been found to
-prevail in that first studied: and in this manner it was
-ascertained what rocks in distant regions are the synonyms,
-or _Equivalents_[6\10],--of each other. The knowledge thus
-collected and systematized was exhibited in the form of
-Geological Maps.
-
-[Note 5\10: _Hist. Ind. Sc._ b. xviii. c. iii.]
-
-[Note 6\10: _Ib._ sect. 4.]
-
-Moreover, among the phenomena of geology we have Laws of
-Nature as well as Classes. The general form of
-mountain-chains; the relations of the direction and
-inclination of different chains to each other; the general
-features of mineral veins, faults, and fissures; the
-prevalent characters of slaty cleavage;--were the subjects
-of laws established, or supposed to be established, by
-extensive observation of facts. In like manner the organic
-fossils discovered in the strata were found to follow
-certain laws with reference to the climate which they
-appeared to have lived in; and the evidence which they gave
-of a regular zoological development. And thus, by the
-assiduous labours of many accomplished and active
-philosophers, Descriptive or Phenomenal Geology was carried
-towards a state of completeness.
-
-5. _Phenomenal Uranography._--In like manner in other
-palætiological researches, as soon as they approach to an
-exact and scientific form, we find the necessity of
-constructing in the first place a science of {267}
-classification and exact description, by means of which the
-phenomena may be correctly represented and compared; and of
-obtaining by this step a solid basis for an inquiry into the
-causes which have produced them. Thus the Palætiology of the
-Solar System has, in recent times, drawn the attention of
-speculators; and a hypothesis has been started, that our sun
-and his attendant planets have been produced by the
-condensation of a mass of diffused matter, such as that
-which constitutes the nebulous patches which we observe in
-the starry heavens. But the sagest and most enlightened
-astronomers have not failed to acknowledge, that to verify
-or to disprove this conjecture, must be the work of many
-ages of observation and thought. They have perceived also
-that the first step of the labour requisite for the
-advancement of this portion of science must be to obtain and
-to record the most exact knowledge at present within our
-reach, respecting the phenomena of these nebulæ, with which
-we thus compare our own system; and, as a necessary element
-of such knowledge, they have seen the importance of a
-classification of these objects, and of others, such as
-Double Stars, of the same kind. Sir William Herschel, who
-first perceived the bearing of the phenomena of nebulæ upon
-the history of the solar system, made the observation of
-such objects his business, with truly admirable zeal and
-skill; and in the account of the results of his labours,
-gave a classification of Nebulæ; separating them into,
-first, _Clusters of Stars_; second, _Resolvable Nebulæ_;
-third, _Proper Nebulæ_; fourth, _Planetary Nebulæ_; fifth,
-_Stellar Nebulæ_; sixth, _Nebulous Stars_[7\10]. And since,
-in order to obtain from these remote appearances, any
-probable knowledge respecting our own system, we must
-discover whether they undergo any changes in the course of
-ages, he devoted himself to the task of forming a record of
-their number and appearance in his own time, that thus the
-astronomers of succeeding generations might have a {268}
-definite and exact standard with which to compare their
-observations. Still, this task would have been executed only
-for that part of the heavens which is visible in this
-country, if this Hipparchus of the Nebulæ and Double Stars
-had not left behind him a son who inherited all his father's
-zeal and more than his father's knowledge. Sir John Herschel
-in 1833 went to the Cape of Good Hope to complete what Sir
-William Herschel left wanting; and in the course of five
-years observed with care all the nebulæ and double stars of
-the Southern hemisphere. This great _Herschelian Survey of
-the Heavens_, the completion of which is the noblest
-monument ever erected by a son to a father, must necessarily
-be, to all ages, the basis of all speculations concerning
-the history and origin of the solar system; and has
-completed, so far as at present it can be completed, the
-phenomenal portion of Astronomical Palætiology.
-
-[Note 7\10: _Phil. Trans._ 1786 and 1789, and Sir J.
-Herschel's _Astronomy_, Art. 616.]
-
-6. _Phenomenal Geography of Plants and Animals._--Again,
-there is another Palætiological Science, closely connected
-with the speculations forced upon the geologist by the
-organic fossils which he discovers imbedded in the strata of
-the earth;--namely, the Science which has for its object the
-Causes of the Diffusion and Distribution of the various
-kinds of Plants and Animals. And the science also has for
-its first portion and indispensable foundation a description
-and classification of the existing phenomena. Such portions
-of science have recently been cultivated with great zeal and
-success, under the titles of the _Geography of Plants_, and
-the _Geography of Animals_. And the results of the inquiries
-thus undertaken have assumed a definite and scientific form
-by leading to a division of the earth's surface into a
-certain number of botanical and zoological _Provinces_, each
-province occupied by its own peculiar vegetable and animal
-population. We find, too, in the course of these
-investigations, various general laws of the phenomena
-offered to our notice; such, for instance, as this:--that
-the difference of the animals originally occupying each
-province, which is clear and entire for the higher orders of
-{269} animals and plants, becomes more doubtful and
-indistinct when we descend to the lower kinds of
-organizations; as Infusoria and Zoophytes[8\10] in the
-animal kingdom, Grasses and Mosses among vegetables. Again,
-other laws discovered by those who have studied the
-geography of plants are these:--that countries separated
-from each other by wide tracts of sea, as the opposite
-shores of the Mediterranean, the islands of the Indian and
-Pacific Oceans, have usually much that is common in their
-vegetation:--and again, that in parallel climates, analogous
-tribes replace each other. It would be easy to adduce other
-laws, but those already stated may serve to show the great
-extent of the portions of knowledge which have just been
-mentioned, even considered as merely Sciences of Phenomena.
-
-[Note 8\10: Prichard, _Researches into the Physical History
-of Mankind_, i. 55, 28.]
-
-7. _Phenomenal Glossology._--It is not my purpose in the
-present work to borrow my leading illustrations from any
-portions of knowledge but those which are concerned with the
-study of material nature; and I shall, therefore, not dwell
-upon a branch of research, singularly interesting, and
-closely connected with the one just mentioned, but dealing
-with relations of thought rather than of things;--I mean the
-Palætiology of Language;--the theory, so far as the facts
-enable us to form a theory, of the causes which have led to
-the resemblances and differences of human speech in various
-regions and various ages. This, indeed, would be only a
-portion of the study of the history and origin of the
-diffusion of animals, if we were to include man among the
-animals whose dispersion we thus investigate; for language
-is one of the most clear and imperishable records of the
-early events in the career of the human race. But the
-peculiar nature of the faculty of speech, and the ideas
-which the use of it involves, make it proper to treat
-_Glossology_ as a distinct science. And of this science, the
-first part must necessarily be, as in the other sciences of
-this order, a {270} classification and comparison of
-languages governed in many respects by the same rules, and
-presenting the same **difficulties, as other sciences of
-classification. Such, accordingly, has been the procedure of
-the most philosophical glossologists. They have been led to
-throw the languages of the earth into certain large classes
-or _Families_, according to various kinds of resemblance; as
-the _Semitic_ Family, to which belong Hebrew, Arabic,
-Chaldean, Syrian, Phoenician, Ethiopian, and the like; the
-_Indo-European_, which includes Sanskrit, Persian, Greek,
-Latin, and German; the _Monosyllabic_ languages, Chinese,
-Tibetan, Birman, Siamese; the _Polysynthetic_ languages, a
-class including most of the North-American Indian dialects;
-and others. And this work of classification has been the
-result of the labour and study of many very profound
-linguists, and has advanced gradually from step to step.
-Thus the Indo-European Family was first formed on an
-observation of the coincidences between Sanskrit, Greek, and
-Latin; but it was soon found to include the Teutonic
-languages, and more recently Dr. Prichard[9\10] has shown
-beyond doubt that the Celtic must be included in the same
-Family. Other general resemblances and differences of
-languages have been marked by appropriate terms: thus August
-von Schlegel has denominated them _synthetical_ and
-_analytical_, according as they form their conjugations and
-declensions by auxiliary verbs and prepositions, or by
-changes in the word itself: and the _polysynthetic_
-languages are so named by M. Duponceau, in consequence of
-their still more complex mode of inflexion. Nor are there
-wanting, in this science also, general laws of phenomena;
-such, for instance, is the curious rule of the interchange
-of consonants in the cognate words of Greek, Gothic, and
-German, which has been discovered by James Grimm. All these
-remarkable portions of knowledge, and the great works which
-have appeared on Glossology, such, for example, as the
-_Mithridates_ of Adelung and Vater, contain, for their
-largest, and {271} hitherto probably their most valuable
-part, the phenomenal portion of the science, the comparison
-of languages as they now are. And beyond all doubt, until we
-have brought this Comparative Philology to a considerable
-degree of completeness, all our speculations respecting the
-causes which have operated to produce the languages of the
-earth must be idle and unsubstantial dreams.
-
-[Note 9\10: Dr Prichard, _On the Eastern Origin of the
-Celtic Nations_. 1831.]
-
-Thus in all Palætiological Sciences, in all attempts to
-trace back the history and discover the origin of the
-present state of things, the portion of the science which
-must first be formed is that which classifies the phenomena,
-and discovers general laws prevailing among them. When this
-work is performed, and not till then, we may begin to
-speculate successfully concerning causes, and to make some
-progress in our attempts to go back to an origin. We must
-have a _Phenomenal_ science preparatory to each
-_Ætiological_ one.
-
-8. _The Study of Phenomena leads to Theory._--As we have
-just said, we cannot, in any subject, speculate successfully
-concerning the causes of the present state of things, till
-we have obtained a tolerably complete and systematic view of
-the phenomena. Yet in reality men have not in any instance
-waited for this completeness and system in their knowledge
-of facts before they have begun to form theories. Nor was it
-natural, considering the speculative propensities of the
-human mind, and how incessantly it is endeavouring to apply
-the Idea of Cause, that it should thus restrain itself. I
-have already noticed this in the History of Geology. 'While
-we have been giving an account,' it is there said, 'of the
-objects with which Descriptive Geology is occupied, it must
-have been felt how difficult it is, in contemplating such
-facts, to confine ourselves to description and
-classification. Conjectures and reasonings respecting the
-causes of the phenomena force themselves upon us at every
-step; and even influence our classification and
-nomenclature. Our Descriptive Geology impels us to construct
-a Physical Geology.' And the same is the case with regard to
-the other subjects which I have mentioned. The mere {272}
-consideration of the different degrees of condensation of
-different Nebulæ led Herschel and Laplace to contemplate the
-hypothesis that our solar system is a condensed Nebula.
-Immediately upon the division of the earth's surface into
-botanical and zoological provinces, and even at an earlier
-period, the opposite hypotheses of the Origin of all the
-animals of each kind from a single pair, and of their
-original diffusion all over the earth, were under
-discussion. And the consideration of the families of
-languages irresistibly led to speculations concerning the
-Families of the earliest human inhabitants of the earth. In
-all cases the contemplation of a very few phenomena, the
-discovery of a very few steps in the history, made men wish
-for and attempt to form a theory of the history from the
-very beginning of things.
-
-9. _No sound Theory without Ætiology._--But though man is
-thus impelled by the natural propensities of his intellect
-to trace each order of things to its causes, he does not at
-first discern the only sure way of obtaining such knowledge:
-he does not suspect how much labour and how much method are
-requisite for success in this undertaking: he is not aware
-that for each order of phenomena he must construct, by the
-accumulated results of multiplied observation and distinct
-thought, a separate Æiology. Thus, as I have elsewhere
-remarked[10\10], when men had for the first time become
-acquainted with some of the leading phenomena of Geology,
-and had proceeded to speculate concerning the past changes
-and revolutions by which such results had been produced,
-they forthwith supposed themselves able to judge what would
-be the effects of any of the obvious agents of change, as
-Water or Volcanic Fire. It did not at first occur to them to
-suspect that their common and extemporaneous judgment on
-such points was by no means sufficient for sound knowledge.
-They did not foresee that, before they could determine what
-share these or any other causes had had in producing the
-present condition of the earth, they must create {273} a
-special science whose object should be to estimate the
-general laws and effects of such assumed causes;--that
-before they could obtain any sound Geological Theory, they
-must carefully cultivate Geological Ætiology.
-
-[Note 10\10: _Hist. Ind. Sc._ b. xviii. c. v. sect. 1.]
-
-The same disposition to proceed immediately from the facts
-to the theory, without constructing, as an intermediate
-step, a Science of Causes, might be pointed out in the other
-sciences of this order. But in all of them this errour has
-been corrected by the failures to which it led. It soon
-appeared, for instance, that a more careful inquiry into the
-effects which climate, food, habit and circumstances can
-produce in animals, was requisite in order to determine how
-the diversities of animals in different countries have
-originated. The Ætiology of Animal Life (if we may be
-allowed to give this name to that study of such causes of
-change which is at present so zealously cultivated, and
-which yet has no distinctive designation, except so far as
-it coincides with the _Organic Geological Dynamics_ of our
-History) is now perceived to be a necessary portion of all
-attempts to construct a history of the earth and its
-inhabitants.
-
-10. _Cause, in Palætiology._--We are thus led to contemplate
-a class of Sciences which are commenced with the study of
-Causes. We have already considered sciences which depended
-mainly upon the Idea of Cause, namely, the Mechanical
-Sciences. But it is obvious that the Idea of Cause in the
-researches now under our consideration must be employed in a
-very different way from that in which we applied it
-formerly. Force is the _Cause_ of motion, because force at
-all times and under all circumstances, if not counteracted,
-produces motion; but the Cause of the present condition and
-elevation of the Alps, whatever it was, was manifested in a
-series of events of which each happened but once, and
-occupied its proper place in the series of time. The former
-is _mechanical_, the latter _historical_, _cause_. In our
-present investigations, we consider the events which we
-contemplate, of whatever order they be, as forming a chain
-which is extended {274} from the beginning of things down to
-the present time; and the causes of which we now speak are
-those which connect the successive links of this chain.
-Every occurrence which has taken place in the history of the
-solar system, or the earth, or its vegetable and animal
-creation, or man, has been at the same time effect and
-cause;--the effect of what preceded, the cause of what
-succeeded. By being effect and cause, it has occupied some
-certain portion of time; and the times which have thus been
-occupied by effects and causes, summed up and taken
-altogether, make up the total of Past Time. The Past has
-been a series of events connected by this historical
-causation, and the Present is the last term of this series.
-The problem in the Palætiological Sciences, with which we
-are here concerned, is, to determine the manner in which
-each term is derived from the preceding, and thus, if
-possible, to calculate backwards to the origin of the series.
-
-11. _Various kinds of Cause._--Those modes by which one term
-in the natural series of events is derived from
-another,--the forms of historical causation,--the kinds of
-connexion between the links of the infinite chain of
-time,--are very various; nor need we attempt to enumerate
-them. But these kinds of causation being distinguished from
-each other, and separately studied, each becomes the subject
-of a separate Ætiology. Thus the causes of change in the
-earth's surface, residing in the elements, fire and water,
-form the main subject of Geological Ætiology. The Ætiology
-of the vegetable and animal kingdoms investigates the causes
-by which the forms and distribution of species of plants and
-animals are affected. The study of causes in Glossology
-leads to an Ætiology of Language, which shall distinguish,
-analyse, and estimate the causes by which certain changes
-are produced in the languages of nations; in like manner we
-may expect to have an Ætiology of Art, which shall
-scrutinise the influences by which the various forms of art
-have each given birth to its successor: by which, for
-example, there have been brought into being those various
-forms of architecture which we term Egyptian, {275} Doric,
-Ionic, Roman, Byzantine, Romanesque, Gothic, Italian,
-Elizabethan. It is easily seen by this slight survey how
-manifold and diverse are the kinds of cause which the
-Palætiological Sciences bring under our consideration. But
-in each of those sciences we shall obtain solid and complete
-systems of knowledge, only so far as we study, with steady
-thought and careful observation, that peculiar kind of cause
-which is appropriate to the phenomena under our
-consideration.
-
-12. _Hypothetical Order of Palætiological Causes._--The
-various kinds of historical cause are not only connected
-with each other by their common bearing upon the historical
-sciences, but they form a kind of progression which we may
-represent to ourselves as having acted in succession in the
-hypothetical history of the earth and its inhabitants. Thus
-assuming, merely as a momentary hypothesis, the origin of
-the Solar System by the condensation of a Nebula, we have to
-contemplate, first, the causes by which the luminous
-incandescent diffused mass of which a nebula is supposed to
-be constituted, is gradually condensed, cooled, collected
-into definite masses, solidified, and each portion made to
-revolve about its axis, and the whole to travel about
-another body. We have no difficulty in ascribing the
-globular form of each mass to the mutual attraction of its
-particles: but when this form was once assumed, and covered
-with a solid crust, are there, we may ask, in the
-constitution of such a body, any causes at work by which the
-crust might be again broken up and portions of it displaced,
-and covered with other matter? Again, if we can thus explain
-the origin of the Earth, can we with like success account
-for the presence of the Atmosphere and the Waters of earth
-and ocean? Supposing this done, we have then to consider by
-what causes such a body could become stocked with vegetable
-and animal Life; for there have not been wanting persons,
-extravagant speculators, no doubt, who have conceived that
-even this event in the history of the world might be the
-work of natural causes. Supposing an origin given to life
-{276} upon our earth, we have then, brought before us by
-geological observations, a series of different forms of
-vegetable and animal existence; occurring in different
-strata, and, as the phenomena appear irresistibly to prove,
-existing at successive periods: and we are compelled to
-inquire what can have been the causes by which the forms of
-each period have passed into those of the next. We find,
-too, that strata, which must have been at first horizontal
-and continuous, have undergone enormous dislocations and
-ruptures, and we have to consider the possible effect of
-aqueous and volcanic causes to produce such changes in the
-earth's crust. We are thus led to the causes which have
-produced the present state of things on the earth; and these
-are causes to which we may hypothetically ascribe, not only
-the form and position of the inert materials of the earth,
-but also the nature and distribution of its animal and
-vegetable population. Man too, no less than other animals,
-is affected by the operation of such causes as we have
-referred to, and must, therefore, be included in such
-speculations. But man's history only begins, where that of
-other animals ends, with his mere existence. They are
-stationary, he is progressive. Other species of animals,
-once brought into being, continue the same through all ages;
-man is changing, from age to age, his language, his
-thoughts, his works. Yet even these changes are bound
-together by laws of causation; and these causes too may
-become objects of scientific study. And such causes, though
-not to be dwelt upon now, since we permit ourselves to found
-our philosophy upon the material sciences only, must still,
-when treated scientifically, fall within the principles of
-our philosophy, and must be governed by the same general
-rules to which all science is subject. And thus we are led
-by a close and natural connexion, through a series of
-causes, extending from those which regulate the
-imperceptible changes of the remotest nebulæ in the heavens,
-to those which determine the diversities of language, the
-mutations of art, and even the progress of civilization,
-polity, and literature. {277}
-
-While I have been speaking of this supposed series of
-events, including in its course the formation of the earth,
-the introduction of animal and vegetable life, and the
-revolutions by which one collection of species has succeeded
-another, it must not be forgotten, that though I have thus
-hypothetically spoken of these events as occurring by force
-of natural causes, this has been done only that the true
-efficacy of such causes might be brought under our
-consideration and made the subject of scientific
-examination. It may be found, that such occurrences as these
-are quite inexplicable by the aid of any natural causes with
-which we are acquainted; and thus, the result of our
-investigations, conducted with strict regard to scientific
-principles, may be, that we must either contemplate
-supernatural influences as part of the past series of
-events, or declare ourselves altogether unable to form this
-series into a connected chain.
-
-13. _Mode of Cultivating Ætiology:--In Geology._--In what
-manner, it may be asked, is Ætiology, with regard to each
-subject such as we have enumerated, to be cultivated? In
-order to answer this question, we must, according to our
-method of proceeding, take the most successful and complete
-examples which we possess of such portions of science. But
-in truth, we can as yet refer to few examples of this kind.
-In Geology, it is only very recently, and principally
-through the example and influence of Sir Charles Lyell, that
-the Ætiology has been detached from the descriptive portion
-of the science; and cultivated with direct attention: in
-other sciences the separation has hardly yet been made. But
-if we examine what has already been done in Geological
-Ætiology, or as in the History it is termed, _Geological
-Dynamics_, we shall find a number of different kinds of
-investigation which, by the aid of our general principles
-respecting the formation of sciences, may suffice to supply
-very useful suggestions for Ætiology in general.
-
-In Geological Ætiology, causes have been studied, in many
-instances, by attending to their action in the phenomena of
-the present state of things, and by inferring {278} from
-this the nature and extent of the action which they may have
-exercised in former times. This has been done, for example,
-by Von Hoff, Sir Charles Lyell, and others, with regard to
-the operations of rivers, seas, springs, glaciers, and other
-aqueous causes of change, Again, the same course has been
-followed by the same philosophers with respect to volcanoes,
-earthquakes, and other violent agents. Sir Charles Lyell has
-attempted to show, too, that there take place, in our own
-time, not only violent agitations, but slow motions of parts
-of the earth's crust, of the same kind and order with those
-which have assisted in producing all anterior changes.
-
-But while we thus seek instruction in the phenomena of the
-present state of things, we are led to the question, What
-are the limits of this 'present' period? For instance, among
-the currents of lava which we trace as part of the shores of
-Italy and Sicily, _which_ shall we select as belonging to
-the existing order of things? In going backwards in time,
-where shall we draw the line? and why at such particular
-point? These questions are important, for our estimate of
-the efficacy of known causes will vary with the extent of
-the effects which we ascribe to them. Hence the mode in
-which we group together rocks is not only a step in
-geological classification, but is also important to
-Ætiology. Thus, when the vast masses of trap rocks in the
-Western Isles of Scotland and in other countries, which had
-been maintained by the Wernerians to be of aqueous origin,
-were, principally by the sagacity and industry of
-Macculloch, identified as to their nature with the products
-of recent volcanoes, the amount of effect which might
-justifiably be ascribed to volcanic agency was materially
-extended.
-
-In other cases, instead of observing the current effects of
-our geological causes, we have to estimate the results from
-what we know of the causes themselves; as when, with
-Herschel, we calculate the alterations in the temperature of
-the earth which astronomical changes may possibly produce;
-or when, with Fourier, we try to calculate the rate of
-cooling of the earth's {279} surface, on the hypothesis of
-an incandescent central mass. In other cases, again, we are
-not able to calculate the effects of our causes rigorously,
-but estimate them as well as we can; partly by physical
-reasonings, and partly by comparison with such analogous
-cases as we can find in the present state of things. Thus
-Sir Charles Lyell infers the change of climate which would
-result if land were transferred from the neighbourhood of
-the poles to that of the equator, by reasonings on the power
-of land and water to contain and communicate heat, supported
-by a reference to the different actual climates of places,
-lying under the same latitude, but under different
-conditions as to the distribution of land and water.
-
-Thus our Ætiology is constructed partly from calculation and
-reasoning, partly from phenomena. But we may observe that
-when we reason from phenomena to causes, we usually do so by
-various steps; often ascending from phenomena to mere laws
-of phenomena, before we can venture to connect the
-phenomenon confidently with its cause. Thus the law of
-subterranean heat, that it increases in descending below the
-surface, is now well established, although the doctrine
-which ascribes this effect to a central heat is not
-universally assented to.
-
-14. _In the Geography of Plants and Animals._--We may find
-in other subjects also, considerable contributions towards
-Ætiology, though not as yet a complete System of Science.
-The Ætiology of Vegetables and Animals, indeed, has been
-studied with great zeal in modern times, as an essential
-preparative to geological theory; for how can we decide
-whether any assumed causes have produced the succession of
-species which we find in the earth's strata, except we know
-what effect of this kind given causes can produce?
-Accordingly, we find in Sir Charles Lyell's _Treatise on
-Geology_ the most complete discussion of such questions as
-belong to these subjects:--for example, the question whether
-species can be transmuted into other species by the
-long-continued influence of external causes, as climate,
-food, domestication, combined with internal {280} causes, as
-habits, appetencies, progressive tendencies. We may observe,
-too, that as we have brought before us, the inquiry what
-change difference of climate can produce in any species, we
-have also the inverse problem, how far a different
-development of the species, or a different collection of
-species, proves a difference of climate. In the same way,
-the geologist of the present day considers the question,
-whether, in virtue of causes now in action, species are from
-time to time extinguished; and in like manner, the
-geologists of an earlier period discussed the question, now
-long completely decided, whether fossil species in general
-are really extinct species.
-
-15. _In Languages._--Even with reference to the Ætiology of
-Language, although this branch of science has hardly been
-considered separately from the glossological investigations
-in which it is employed or assumed to be employed, it might
-perhaps be possible to point out causes or conditions of
-change which, being general in their nature, must operate
-upon all languages alike. Changes made for the sake of
-euphony when words are modified and combined, occur in all
-dialects. Who can doubt that such changes of consonants as
-those by which the Greek roots become Gothic, and the
-Gothic, German, have for their cause some general principle
-in the pronunciation of each language? Again, we might
-attempt to decide other questions of no small interest. Have
-the terminations of verbs arisen from the accretion of
-pronouns; or, on the other hand, does the modification of a
-verb imply a simpler mental process than the insulation of a
-pronoun, as Adam Smith has maintained? Again, when the
-language of a nation is changed by the invasion and
-permanent mixture of an enemy of different speech, is it
-generally true that it is changed from a synthetic to an
-analytical structure? I will mention only one more of these
-wide and general glossological inquiries. Is it true, as Dr.
-Prichard has suggested[11\10], that languages have become
-more permanent as we come down {281} towards later times?
-May we justifiably suppose, with him, that in the very
-earliest times, nations, when they had separated from one
-stock, might lose all traces of this common origin out of
-their languages, though retaining strong evidences of it in
-their mythology, social forms, and arts, as appears to be
-the case with the ancient Egyptians and the Indians[12\10].
-
-[Note 11\10: _Researches_, ii. 221.]
-
-[Note 12\10: _Researches_, ii. 192.]
-
-Large questions of this nature cannot be treated profitably
-in any other way than by an assiduous study of the most
-varied forms of living and dead languages. But on the other
-hand, the study of languages should be prosecuted not only
-by a direct comparison of one with another, but also with a
-view to the formation of a science of causes and general
-principles, embracing such discussions as I have pointed
-out. It is only when such a science has been formed, that we
-can hope to obtain any solid and certain results in the
-Palætiology of Language;--to determine, with any degree of
-substantial proof, what is the real evidence which the
-wonderful faculty of speech, under its present developments
-and forms, bears to the events which have taken place in its
-own history, and in the history of man since his first origin.
-
-16. _Construction of Theories._--When we have thus obtained,
-with reference to any such subject as those we have here
-spoken of, these two portions of science, a Systematic
-Description of the Facts, and a rigorous Analysis of the
-Causes,--the _Phenomenology_ and the _Ætiology_ of the
-subject,--we are prepared for the third member which
-completes the science, the _Theory_ of the actual facts. We
-can then take a view of the events which really have
-happened, discerning their connexion, interpreting their
-evidence, supplying from the context the parts which are
-unapparent. We can account for known facts by intelligible
-causes; we can infer latent facts from manifest effects, so
-as to obtain a distinct insight into the whole history of
-events up to the present time, and to see the last result of
-the whole in the present condition of things. {282} The term
-_Theory_, when rigorously employed in such sciences as those
-which we here consider, bears nearly the sense which I have
-adopted: it implies a consistent and systematic view of the
-actual facts, combined with a true apprehension of their
-connexion and causes. Thus if we speak of 'a Theory of Mount
-Etna,' or 'a Theory of the Paris Basin,' we mean a connected
-and intelligible view of the events by which the rocks in
-these localities have come into their present condition.
-Undoubtedly the term _Theory_ has often been used in a
-looser sense; and men have put forth '_Theories of the
-Earth_,' which, instead of including the whole mass of
-actual geological facts and their causes, only assigned, in
-a vague manner, some causes by which some few phenomena
-might, it was conceived, be accounted for. Perhaps the
-portion of our Palætiological Sciences which we now wish to
-designate, would be more generally understood if we were to
-describe it as _Theoretical_ or _Philosophical History_; as
-when we talk of 'the Theoretical History of Architecture,'
-or 'the Philosophical History of Language.' And in the same
-manner we might speak of the Theoretical History of the
-Animal and Vegetable Kingdoms; meaning, a distinct account
-of the events which have produced the present distribution
-of species and families. But by whatever phrase we describe
-this portion of science, it is plain that such a Theory,
-such a Theoretical History, must result from the application
-of causes well understood to facts well ascertained. And if
-the term _Theory_ be here employed, we must recollect that
-it is to be understood, not in its narrower sense as opposed
-to facts, but in its wider signification, as including all
-known facts and differing from them only in introducing
-among them principles of intelligible connexion. The
-Theories of which we now speak are true _Theories_,
-precisely because they are identical with the total system
-of the _Facts_.
-
-17. _No sound Palætiological Theory yet extant._--It is not
-to disparage unjustly the present state of science, to say
-that as yet no such theory exists on any subject. 'Theories
-of the Earth' have been {283} repeatedly published; but when
-we consider that even the facts of geology have been
-observed only on a small portion of the earth's surface, and
-even within those narrow bounds very imperfectly studied, we
-shall be able to judge how impossible it is that geologists
-should have yet obtained a well-established Theoretical
-History of the changes which have taken place in the crust
-of the terrestrial globe from its first origin. Accordingly,
-I have ventured in my History to designate the most
-prominent of the Theories which have hitherto prevailed as
-_premature_ geological theories[13\10]: and we shall soon
-see that geological theory has not advanced beyond a few
-conjectures, and that its cultivators are at present mainly
-occupied with a controversy in which the two extreme
-hypotheses which first offer themselves to men's minds are
-opposed to each other. And if we have no theoretical History
-of the Earth which merits any confidence, still less have we
-any theoretical History of Language, or of the Arts, which
-we can consider as satisfactory. The Theoretical History of
-the Vegetable and Animal Kingdoms is closely connected with
-that of the Earth on which they subsist, and must follow the
-fortunes of Geology. And thus we may venture to say that no
-Palætiological Science, as yet, possesses all its three
-members. Indeed most of them are very far from having
-completed and systematized their Phenomenology: in all, the
-cultivation of Ætiology is but just begun, or is not begun;
-in all, the Theory must reward the exertions of future,
-probably of distant, generations.
-
-[Note 13\10: _Hist. Ind. Sc._ b. xviii. c. vii. sect. 3.]
-
-But in the mean time we may derive some instruction from the
-comparison of the two antagonist hypotheses of which I have spoken.
-
-
-
-{{284}}
-CHAPTER III.
-
-OF THE DOCTRINE OF CATASTROPHES AND THE DOCTRINE OF
-UNIFORMITY.
-
-
-1. _Doctrine of Catastrophes._--I HAVE already shown, in the
-History of Geology, that the attempts to frame a theory of
-the earth have brought into view two completely opposite
-opinions:--one, which represents the course of nature as
-_uniform_ through all ages, the causes which produce change
-having had the same intensity in former times which they
-have at the present day;--the other opinion, which sees, in
-the present condition of things, evidences of
-_catastrophes_;--changes of a more sweeping kind, and
-produced by more powerful agencies than those which occur in
-recent times. Geologists who held the latter opinion,
-maintained that the forces which have elevated the Alps or
-the Andes to their present height could not have been any
-forces which are now in action: they pointed to vast masses
-of strata hundreds of miles long, thousands of feet thick,
-thrown into highly-inclined positions, fractured,
-dislocated, crushed: they remarked that upon the shattered
-edges of such strata they found enormous accumulations of
-fragments and rubbish, rounded by the action of water, so as
-to denote ages of violent aqueous action: they conceived
-that they saw instances in which whole mountains of rock in
-a state of igneous fusion, must have burst the earth's crust
-from below: they found that in the course of the revolutions
-by which one stratum of rock was placed upon another, the
-whole collection of animal species which tenanted the earth
-and the seas had been removed, and a new set of living
-things introduced in its place: finally, they found, above
-all the strata, {285} vast masses of sand and gravel
-containing bones of animals, and apparently the work of a
-mighty deluge. With all these proofs before their eyes, they
-thought it impossible not to judge that the agents of change
-by which the world was urged from one condition to another
-till it reached its present state must have been more
-violent, more powerful, than any which we see at work around
-us. They conceived that the evidence of 'catastrophes' was
-irresistible.
-
-2. _Doctrine of Uniformity._--I need not here repeat the
-narrative (given in the History[14\10]) of the process by
-which this formidable array of proofs was, in the minds of
-some eminent geologists, weakened, and at last overcome.
-This was done by showing that the sudden breaks in the
-succession of strata were apparent only, the discontinuity
-of the series which occurred in one country being removed by
-terms interposed in another locality:--by urging that the
-total effect produced by existing causes, taking into
-account the accumulated result of long periods, is far
-greater than a casual speculator would think possible:--by
-making it appear that there are in many parts of the world
-evidences of a slow and imperceptible rising of the land
-since it was the habitation of now existing species:--by
-proving that it is not universally true that the strata
-separated in time by supposed catastrophes contain distinct
-species of animals:--by pointing out the limited fields of
-the supposed diluvial action:--and finally, by remarking
-that though the _creation_ of species is a mystery, the
-_extinction_ of species is going on in our own day.
-Hypotheses were suggested, too, by which it was conceived
-that the change of climate might be explained, which, as the
-consideration of the fossil remains seemed to show, must
-have taken place between the ancient and the modern times.
-In this manner the whole evidence of catastrophes was
-explained away: the notion of a series of paroxysms of
-violence in the causes of change was represented as a
-delusion arising from our {286} contemplating short periods
-only, in the action of present causes: length of time was
-called in to take the place of intensity of force: and it
-was declared that Geology need not despair of accounting for
-the revolutions of the earth, as Astronomy accounts for the
-revolutions of the heavens, by the universal action of
-causes which are close at hand to us, operating through time
-and space without variation or decay.
-
-[Note 14\10: _Hist. Ind. Sc._ b. xviii. c. viii. sect. 2.]
-
-An antagonism of opinions, somewhat of the same kind as
-this, will be found to manifest itself in the other
-Palætiological Sciences as well as in Geology; and it will
-be instructive to endeavour to balance these opposite
-doctrines. I will mention some of the considerations which
-bear upon the subject in its general form.
-
-3. _Is Uniformity probable à priori?_--The doctrine of
-Uniformity in the course of nature has sometimes been
-represented by its adherents as possessing a great degree of
-_à priori_ probability. It is highly unphilosophical, it has
-been urged, to assume that the causes of the geological
-events of former times were of a different kind from causes
-now in action, if causes of this latter kind can in any way
-be made to explain the facts. The analogy of all other
-sciences compels us, it was said, to explain phenomena by
-known, not by unknown, causes. And on these grounds the
-geological teacher recommended[15\10] 'an earnest and
-patient endeavour to reconcile the indications of former
-change with the evidence of gradual mutations now in
-progress.'
-
-[Note 15\10: Lyell, 4th ed. b. iv. c. i. p. 328.]
-
-But on this we may remark, that if by _known_ causes we mean
-causes acting with the same intensity which they have had
-during historical times, the restriction is altogether
-arbitrary and groundless. Let it be granted, for instance,
-that many parts of the earth's surface are now undergoing an
-imperceptible rise. It is not pretended that the rate of
-this elevation is rigorously uniform; what, then, are the
-limits of its velocity? Why may it not increase so as to
-assume that character of violence which we may term a {287}
-_catastrophe_ with reference to all changes hitherto
-recorded? Why may not the rate of elevation be such that we
-may conceive the strata to assume _suddenly_ a position
-nearly vertical? And is it, in fact, easy to conceive a
-position of strata nearly vertical, a position which occurs
-so frequently, to be _gradually_ assumed? In cases where the
-strata are nearly vertical, as in the Isle of Wight, and
-hundreds of other places, or where they are actually
-inverted, as sometimes occurs, are not the causes which have
-produced the effect as truly known causes, as those which
-have raised the coasts where we trace the former beach in an
-elevated terrace? If the latter case proves _slow_
-elevation, does not the former case prove _rapid_ elevation?
-In neither case have we any measure of the time employed in
-the change; but does not the very nature of the results
-enable us to discern, that if one was gradual, the other was
-comparatively sudden?
-
-The causes which are now elevating a portion of Scandinavia
-can be called known _causes_, only because we know the
-_effect_. Are not the causes which have elevated the Alps
-and the Andes known causes in the same sense? We know
-nothing in either case which confines the intensity of the
-force within any limit, or prescribes to it any law of
-uniformity. Why, then, should we make a merit of cramping
-our speculations by such assumptions? Whether the causes of
-change do act uniformly;--whether they oscillate only within
-narrow limits;--whether their intensity in former times was
-nearly the same as it now is;--these are precisely the
-questions which we wish Science to answer to us impartially
-and truly: where is then the wisdom of 'an earnest and
-patient endeavour' to secure an _affirmative_ reply?
-
-Thus I conceive that the assertion of an _à priori_ claim to
-probability and philosophical spirit in favour of the
-doctrine of uniformity, is quite untenable. We must learn
-from an examination of all the facts, and not from any
-assumption of our own, whether the course of nature be
-uniform. The limit of intensity being really unknown,
-catastrophes are just as probable {288} as uniformity. If a
-volcano may repose for a thousand years, and then break out
-and destroy a city; why may not another volcano repose for
-ten thousand years, and then destroy a continent; or if a
-continent, why not the whole habitable surface of the earth?
-
-4. _Cycle of Uniformity indefinite._--But this argument may
-be put in another form. When it is said that the course of
-nature is uniform, the assertion is not intended to exclude
-certain smaller variations of violence and rest, such as we
-have just spoken of;--alternations of activity and repose in
-volcanoes; or earthquakes, deluges, and storms, interposed
-in a more tranquil state of things. With regard to such
-occurrences, terrible as they appear at the time, they may
-not much affect the average rate of change; there may be a
-_cycle_, though an irregular one, of rapid and slow change;
-and if such cycles go on succeeding each other, we may still
-call the order of nature uniform, notwithstanding the
-periods of violence which it involves. The maximum and
-minimum intensities of the forces of mutation alternate with
-one another; and we may estimate the average course of
-nature as that which corresponds to something between the
-two extremes.
-
-But if we thus attempt to maintain the uniformity of nature
-by representing it as a series of _cycles_, we find that we
-cannot discover, in this conception, any solid ground for
-excluding catastrophes. What is the length of that cycle,
-the repetition of which constitutes uniformity? What
-interval from the maximum to the minimum does it admit of?
-We may take for our cycle a hundred or a thousand years, but
-evidently such a proceeding is altogether arbitrary. We may
-mark our cycles by the greatest known paroxysms of volcanic
-and terremotive agency, but this procedure is no less
-indefinite and inconclusive than the other.
-
-But further; since the cycle in which violence and repose
-alternate is thus indefinite in its length and in its range
-of activity, what ground have we for assuming more than one
-such cycle, extending from the origin of things to the
-present time? Why may we not suppose the maximum force of
-the causes of change {289} to have taken place at the
-earliest period, and the tendency towards the minimum to
-have gone on ever since? Or instead of only one cycle, there
-may have been several, but of such length that our
-historical period forms a portion only of the last;--the
-feeblest portion of the latest cycle. And thus violence and
-repose may alternate upon a scale of time and intensity so
-large, that man's experience supplies no evidence enabling
-him to estimate the amount. The course of things is
-_uniform_, to an Intelligence which can embrace the
-succession of several cycles, but it is _catastrophic_ to
-the contemplation of man, whose survey can grasp a part only
-of one cycle. And thus the hypothesis of uniformity, since
-it cannot exclude degrees of change, nor limit the range of
-these degrees, nor define the interval of their recurrence,
-cannot possess any essential simplicity which, previous to
-inquiry, gives it a claim upon our assent superior to that
-of the opposite catastrophic hypothesis.
-
-5. _Uniformitarian Arguments are Negative only._--There is
-an opposite tendency in the mode of maintaining the
-catastrophist and the uniformitarian opinions, which depends
-upon their fundamental principles, and shows itself in all
-the controversies between them. The Catastrophist is
-affirmative, the Uniformitarian is negative in his
-assertions: the former is constantly attempting to construct
-a theory; the latter delights in demolishing all theories.
-The one is constantly bringing fresh evidence of some great
-past event, or series of events, of a striking and definite
-kind; his antagonist is at every step explaining away the
-evidence, and showing that it proves nothing. One geologist
-adduces his proofs of a vast universal deluge; but another
-endeavours to show that the proofs do not establish either
-the universality or the vastness of such an event. The
-inclined broken edges of a certain formation, covered with
-their own fragments, beneath superjacent horizontal
-deposits, are at one time supposed to prove a catastrophic
-breaking up of the earlier strata; but this opinion is
-controverted by showing that the same formations, when
-pursued into other countries, {290} exhibit a uniform
-gradation from the lower to the upper, with no trace of
-violence. Extensive and lofty elevations of the coast,
-continents of igneous rock, at first appear to indicate
-operations far more gigantic than those which now occur; but
-attempts are soon made to show that time only is wanting to
-enable the present age to rival the past in the production
-of such changes. Each new fact adduced by the catastrophist
-is at first striking and apparently convincing; but as it
-becomes familiar, it strikes the imagination less
-powerfully; and the uniformitarian, constantly labouring to
-produce some imitation of it by the machinery which he has
-so well studied, at last in every case seems to himself to
-succeed, so far as to destroy the effect of his opponent's
-evidence.
-
-This is so with regard to more remote, as well as with
-regard to immediate evidences of change. When it is
-ascertained that in every part of the earth's crust the
-temperature increases as we descend below the surface, at
-first this fact seems to indicate a central heat: and a
-central heat naturally suggests an earlier state of the
-mass, in which it was incandescent, and from which it is now
-cooling. But this original incandescence of the globe of the
-earth is manifestly an entire violation of the present
-course of things; it belongs to the catastrophist view, and
-the advocates of uniformity have to explain it away.
-Accordingly, one of them holds that this increase of heat in
-descending below the surface may very possibly not go on all
-the way to the center. The heat which increases at first as
-we descend, may, he conceives, afterwards decrease; and he
-suggests causes which may have produced such a succession of
-hotter and colder shells within the mass of the earth. I
-have mentioned this suggestion in the History of Geology;
-and have given my reasons for believing it altogether
-untenable[16\10]. Other persons also, desirous of
-reconciling this subterraneous heat with the tenet of
-uniformity, have {291} offered another suggestion:--that the
-warmth or incandescence of the interior parts of the earth
-does not arise out of an originally hot condition from which
-it is gradually cooling, but results from chemical action
-constantly going on among the materials of the earth's
-substance. And thus new attempts are perpetually making, to
-escape from the cogency of the reasonings which send us
-towards an original state of things different from the
-present. Those who theorize concerning an origin go on
-building up the fabric of their speculations, while those
-who think such theories unphilosophical, ever and anon dig
-away the foundation of this structure. As we have already
-said, the uniformitarian's doctrines are a collection of
-negatives.
-
-[Note 16\10: _Hist. Ind. Sc._ b. xviii. c. v. sect. 5, and note.]
-
-This is so entirely the case, that the uniformitarian would
-for the most part shrink from maintaining as positive tenets
-the explanations which he so willingly uses as instruments
-of controversy. He puts forward his suggestions as
-difficulties, but he will not stand by them as doctrines.
-And this is in accordance with his general tendency; for any
-of his hypotheses, if insisted upon as positive theories,
-would be found inconsistent with the assertion of
-uniformity. For example, the nebular hypothesis appears to
-give to the history of the heavens an aspect which
-obliterates all special acts of creation, for, according to
-that hypothesis, new planetary systems are constantly
-forming; but when asserted as the origin of our own solar
-system, it brings with it an original incandescence, and an
-origin of the organic world. And if, instead of using the
-chemical theory of subterraneous heat to neutralize the
-evidence of original incandescence, we assert it as a
-positive tenet, we can no longer maintain the infinite past
-duration of the earth; for chemical forces, as well as
-mechanical, tend to equilibrium; and that condition once
-attained, their efficacy ceases. Chemical affinities tend to
-form new compounds; and though, when many and various
-elements are mingled together, the play of synthesis and
-analysis may go on for a long time, it must at last end. If,
-for instance, a large portion of the earth's mass were
-originally pure potassium, we {292} can imagine violent
-igneous action to go on so long as any part remained
-unoxidized; but when the oxidation of the whole has once
-taken place, this action must be at an end; for there is in
-the hypothesis no agency which can reproduce the deoxidized
-metal. Thus a perpetual motion is impossible in chemistry,
-as it is in mechanics; and a theory of constant change
-continued through infinite time, is untenable when asserted
-upon chemical, no less than upon mechanical principles. And
-thus the Skepticism of the uniformitarian is of force only
-so long as it is employed against the Dogmatism of the
-catastrophist. When the Doubts are erected into Dogmas, they
-are no longer consistent with the tenet of Uniformity. When
-the Negations become Affirmations, the Negation of an Origin
-vanishes also.
-
-6. _Uniformity in the Organic World._--In speaking of the
-violent and sudden changes which constitute catastrophes,
-our thoughts naturally turn at first to great _mechanical_
-and _physical_ effects;--ruptures and displacements of
-strata; extensive submersions and emersions of land; rapid
-changes of temperature. But the catastrophes which we have
-to consider in geology affect the _organic_ as well as the
-inorganic world. The sudden extinction of one collection of
-species, and the introduction of another in their place, is
-a Catastrophe, even if unaccompanied by mechanical violence.
-Accordingly, the antagonism of the catastrophist and
-uniformitarian schools has shown itself in this department
-of the subject, as well as in the other. When geologists had
-first discovered that the successive strata are each
-distinguished by appropriate organic fossils, they assumed
-at once that each of these collections of living things
-belonged to a separate creation. But this conclusion, as I
-have already said, Sir C. Lyell has attempted to invalidate,
-by proving that in the existing order of things, some
-species become extinct; and by suggesting it as possible,
-that in the same order, it may be true that new species are
-from time to time produced, even in the present course of
-nature. And in this, as in the other part of the subject, he
-calls in {293} the aid of vast periods of time, in order
-that the violence of the changes may be softened down: and
-he appears disposed to believe that the actual extinction
-and creation of species may be so slow as to excite no more
-notice than it has hitherto obtained; and yet may be rapid
-enough, considering the immensity of geological periods, to
-produce such a succession of different collections of
-species as we find in the strata of the earth's surface.
-
-7. _Origin of the present Organic World._--The last great
-event in the history of the vegetable and animal kingdoms
-was that by which their various tribes were placed in their
-present seats. And we may form various hypotheses with
-regard to the sudden or gradual manner in which we may
-suppose this distribution to have taken place. We may assume
-that at the beginning of the present order of things, a
-stock of each species was placed in the vegetable or animal
-_province_ to which it belongs, by some cause out of the
-common order of nature; or we may take a uniformitarian view
-of the subject, and suppose that the provinces of the
-organic world derived their population from some anterior
-state of things by the operation of natural causes.
-
-Nothing has been pointed out in the existing order of things
-which has any analogy or resemblance, of any valid kind, to
-that creative energy which must be exerted in the production
-of a new species. And to assume the introduction of new
-species as 'a part of the order of nature,' without pointing
-out any natural fact with which such an event can be
-classed, would be to reject creation by an arbitrary act.
-Hence, even on natural grounds, the most intelligible view
-of the history of the animal and vegetable kingdoms seems to
-be, that each period which is marked by a distinct
-collection of species forms a cycle; and that at the
-beginning of each such cycle a creative power was exerted,
-of a kind to which there was nothing at all analogous in the
-succeeding part of the same cycle. If it be urged that in
-some cases the same species, or the same genus, runs through
-two geological formations, {294} which must, on other
-grounds, be referred to different cycles of creative energy,
-we may reply that the creation of many new species does not
-imply the extinction of all the old ones.
-
-Thus we are led by our reasonings to this view, that the
-present order of things was commenced by an act of creative
-power entirely different to any agency which has been
-exerted since. None of the influences which have modified
-the present races of animals and plants since they were
-placed in their habitations on the earth's surface can have
-had any efficacy in producing them at first. We are
-necessarily driven to assume, as the beginning of the
-present cycle of organic nature, an event not included in
-the course of nature. And we may remark that this necessity
-is the more cogent, precisely because other cycles have
-preceded the present.
-
-8. _Nebular Origin of the Solar System._--If we attempt to
-apply the same antithesis of opinion (the doctrines of
-Catastrophe and Uniformity) to the other subjects of
-palætiological sciences, we shall be led to similar
-conclusions. Thus, if we turn our attention to Astronomical
-Palætiology, we perceive that the Nebular Hypothesis has a
-uniformitarian tendency. According to this hypothesis the
-formation of this our system of sun, planets, and
-satellites, was a process of the same kind as those which
-are still going on in the heavens. One after another, nebulæ
-condense into separate masses, which begin to revolve about
-each other by mechanical necessity, and form systems of
-which our solar system is a finished example. But we may
-remark, that the uniformitarian doctrine on this subject
-rests on most unstable foundations. We have as yet only very
-vague and imperfect reasonings to show that by such
-condensation a _material_ system such as ours could result;
-and the introduction of _organized_ beings into such a
-material system is utterly out of the reach of our
-philosophy. Here again, therefore, we are led to regard the
-present order of the world as pointing towards an origin
-altogether of a different kind from anything which our
-material science can grasp. {295}
-
-9. _Origin of Languages._--We may venture to say that we
-should be led to the same conclusion once more, if we were
-to take into our consideration those palætiological sciences
-which are beyond the domain of matter; for instance, the
-History of Languages. We may explain many of the differences
-and changes which we become acquainted with, by referring to
-the action of causes of change which still operate. But what
-glossologist will venture to declare that the efficacy of
-such causes has been uniform;--that the influences which
-mould a language, or make one language differ from others of
-the same stock, operated formerly with no more efficacy than
-they exercise now. 'Where,' as has elsewhere been asked, 'do
-we now find a language in the process of formation,
-unfolding itself in inflexions, terminations, changes of
-vowels by grammatical relations, such as characterise the
-oldest known languages?' Again, as another proof how little
-the history of languages suggests to the philosophical
-glossologist the persuasion of a uniform action of the
-causes of change, I may refer to the conjecture of Dr.
-Prichard, that the varieties of language produced by the
-separation of one stock into several, have been greater and
-greater as we go backwards in history:--that[17\10] the
-formation of sister dialects from a common language (as the
-Scandinavian, German, and Saxon dialects from the Teutonic,
-or the Gaelic, Erse and Welsh from the Celtic) belongs to
-the first millennium before the Christian era; while the
-formation of cognate languages of the same family, as the
-Sanskrit, Latin, Greek and Gothic, must be placed at least
-two thousand years before that era; and at a still earlier
-period took place the separation of the great families
-themselves, the Indo-European, Semitic, and others, in which
-it is now difficult to trace the features of a common
-origin. No hypothesis except one of this kind will explain
-the existence of the families, groups, and dialects of
-languages, which we find in existence. Yet this is an
-entirely different view from that which {296} the hypothesis
-of the uniform progress of change would give. And thus, in
-the earliest stages of man's career, the revolutions of
-language must have been, even by the evidence of the
-theoretical history of language itself, of an order
-altogether different from any which have taken place within
-the recent history of man. And we may add, that as the early
-stages of the progress of language must have been widely
-different from those later ones of which we can in some
-measure trace the natural causes, we cannot place the origin
-of language in any point of view in which it comes under the
-jurisdiction of natural causation at all.
-
-[Note 17\10: _Researches_, ii. 224.]
-
-10. _No Natural Origin discoverable._--We are thus led by a
-survey of several of the palætiological sciences to a
-confirmation of the principle formerly asserted[18\10], That
-in no palætiological science has man been able to arrive at
-a beginning which is homogeneous with the known course of
-events. We can in such sciences often go very far
-back;--determine many of the remote circumstances of the
-past series of events;--ascend to a point which seems to be
-near the origin;--and limit the hypotheses respecting the
-origin itself: but philosophers never have demonstrated,
-and, so far as we can judge, probably never will be able to
-demonstrate, what was that primitive state of things from
-which the progressive course of the world took its first
-departure. In all these paths of research, when we travel
-far backwards, the aspect of the earlier portions becomes
-very different from that of the advanced part on which we
-now stand; but in all cases the path is lost in obscurity as
-it is traced backwards towards its starting-point: it
-becomes not only invisible, but unimaginable; it is not only
-an interruption, but an abyss, which interposes itself
-between us and any intelligible beginning of things.
-
-[Note 18\10: _Hist. Ind. Sc._ b. xviii. c. vi. sect 5.]
-
-
-
-{{297}}
-CHAPTER IV.
-
-OF THE RELATION OF TRADITION TO PALÆTIOLOGY.
-
-
-1. _Importance of Tradition._--SINCE the Palætiological
-Sciences have it for their business to study the train of
-past events produced by natural causes down to the present
-time, the knowledge concerning such events which is supplied
-by the remembrance and records of man, in whatever form,
-must have an important bearing upon these sciences. All
-changes in the condition and extent of land and sea, which
-have taken place within man's observation, all effects of
-deluges, sea-waves, rivers, springs, volcanoes, earthquakes,
-and the like, which come within the reach of human history,
-have a strong interest for the palætiologist. Nor is he less
-concerned in all recorded instances of the modification of
-the forms and habits of plants and animals, by the
-operations of man, or by transfer from one land to another.
-And when we come to the Palætiology of Language, of Art, of
-Civilization, we find our subject still more closely
-connected with history; for in truth these are historical,
-no less than palætiological investigations. But, confining
-ourselves at present to the material sciences, we may
-observe that though the importance of the information which
-tradition gives us, in the sciences now under our
-consideration, as, for instance, geology, has long been
-tacitly recognised; yet it is only recently that geologists
-have employed themselves in collecting their historical
-facts upon such a scale and with such comprehensive views as
-are required by the interest and use of collections of this
-kind. The Essay of Von {298} Hoff[19\10], _On the Natural
-Alterations in the Surface of the Earth which are proved by
-Tradition_, was the work which first opened the eyes of
-geologists to the extent and importance of this kind of
-investigation. Since that time the same path of research has
-been pursued with great perseverance by others, especially
-by Sir C. Lyell; and is now justly considered as an
-essential portion of Geology.
-
-[Note 19\10: Vol. i. 1822; vol. ii. 1824.]
-
-2. _Connexion of Tradition and Science._--Events which we
-might naturally expect to have some bearing on geology, are
-narrated in the historical writings which, even on mere
-human grounds, have the strongest claim to our respect as
-records of the early history of the world, and are confirmed
-by the traditions of various nations all over the globe;
-namely, the formation of the earth and of its population,
-and a subsequent deluge. It has been made a matter of
-controversy how the narrative of these events is to be
-understood, so as to make it agree with the facts which an
-examination of the earth's surface and of its vegetable and
-animal population discloses to us. Such controversies, when
-they are considered as merely archæological, may occur in
-any of the palætiological sciences. We may have to compare
-and to reconcile the evidence of existing phenomena with
-that of historical tradition. But under some circumstances
-this process of conciliation may assume an interest of
-another kind, on which we will make a few remarks.
-
-3. _Natural and Providential History of the World._--We may
-contemplate the existence of man upon the earth, his origin
-and his progress, in the same manner as we contemplate the
-existence of any other race of animals; namely, in a purely
-palætiological view. We may consider how far our knowledge
-of laws of causation enables us to explain his diffusion and
-migration, his differences and resemblances, his actions and
-works. And this is the view of man as a member of the
-_Natural_ Course of Things. {299}
-
-But man, at the same time the contemplator and the subject
-of his own contemplation, endowed with faculties and powers
-which make him a being of a different nature from other
-animals, cannot help regarding his own actions and
-enjoyments, his recollections and his hopes, under an aspect
-quite different from any that we have yet had presented to
-us. We have been endeavouring to place in a clear light the
-Fundamental Ideas, such as that of Cause, on which depends
-our knowledge of the natural course of things. But there are
-other Ideas to which man necessarily refers his actions; he
-is led by his nature, not only to consider his own actions,
-and those of his fellow-men, as springing out of this or
-that cause, leading to this or that material result; but
-also as _good_ or _bad_, as what they _ought_ or _ought not_
-to be. He has Ideas of moral relations as well as those
-Ideas of material relations with which we have hitherto been
-occupied. He is a moral as well as a natural agent.
-
-Contemplating himself and the world around him by the light
-of his Moral Ideas, man is led to the conviction that his
-moral faculties were bestowed upon him by design and for a
-purpose; that he is the subject of a Moral Government; that
-the course of the world is directed by the Power which
-governs it, to the unfolding and perfecting of man's moral
-nature; that this guidance may be traced in the career of
-individuals and of the world; that there is a _Providential_
-as well as a Natural Course of Things.
-
-Yet this view is beset by no small difficulties. The full
-development of man's moral faculties;--the perfection of his
-nature up to the measure of his own ideas;--the adaptation
-of his moral being to an ultimate destination, by its
-transit through a world full of moral evil, in which evil
-each person has his share;--are effects for which the
-economy of the world appears to contain no adequate
-provision. Man, though aware of his moral nature, and ready
-to believe in an ultimate destination of purity and
-blessedness, is too feeble to resist the temptation of evil,
-and too helpless to restore his purity when once lost. He
-cannot but look for {300} some confirmation of that
-providential order which he has begun to believe; some
-provision for those deficiencies in his moral condition
-which he has begun to feel.
-
-He looks at the history of the world, and he finds that at a
-certain period it offers to him the promise of what he
-seeks. When the natural powers of man had been developed to
-their full extent, and were beginning to exhibit symptoms of
-decay;--when the intellectual progress of the world appeared
-to have reached its limit, without supplying man's moral
-needs;--we find the great Epoch in the Providential History
-of the world. We find the announcement of a Dispensation by
-which man's deficiencies shall be supplied and his
-aspirations fulfilled: we find a provision for the
-purification, the support, and the ultimate beatification of
-those who use the provided means. And thus the providential
-course of the world becomes consistent and intelligible.
-
-4. _The Sacred Narrative._--But with the new Dispensation,
-we receive, not only an account of its own scheme and
-history, but also a written narrative of the providential
-course of the world from the earliest times, and even from
-its first creation. This narrative is recognized and
-authorized by the new dispensation, and accredited by some
-of the same evidences as the dispensation itself. That the
-existence of such a sacred narrative should be a part of the
-providential order of things, cannot but appear natural;
-but, naturally also, the study of it leads to some
-difficulties.
-
-The Sacred Narrative in some of its earliest portions speaks
-of natural objects and occurrences respecting them. In the
-very beginning of the course of the world, we may readily
-believe (indeed, as we have seen in the last chapter, our
-scientific researches lead us to believe) that such
-occurrences were very different from anything which now
-takes place;--different to an extent and in a manner which
-we cannot estimate. Now the narrative must speak of objects
-and occurrences in the words and phrases which have derived
-their meaning from their application to the existing natural
-state of things. When applied to an initial {301}
-supernatural state therefore, these words and phrases cannot
-help being to us obscure and mysterious, perhaps ambiguous
-and seemingly contradictory.
-
-5. _Difficulties in interpreting the Sacred Narrative._--The
-moral and providential relations of man's condition are so
-much more important to him than mere natural relations, that
-at first we may well suppose he will accept the Sacred
-Narrative, as not only unquestionable in its true import,
-but also as a guide in his views even of mere natural
-things. He will try to modify the conceptions which he
-entertains of objects and their properties, so that the
-Sacred Narrative of the supernatural condition shall retain
-the first meaning which he had put upon it in virtue of his
-own habits in the usage of language.
-
-But man is so constituted that he cannot persist in this
-procedure. The powers and tendencies of his intellect are
-such that he cannot help trying to attain true conceptions
-of objects and their properties by the study of things
-themselves. For instance, when he at first read of a
-firmament dividing the waters above from the waters below,
-he perhaps conceived a transparent floor in the skies, on
-which the superior waters rested, which descend in rain; but
-as his observations and his reasonings satisfied him that
-such a floor could not exist, he became willing to allow (as
-St. Augustine allowed) that the waters above the firmament
-are in a state of vapour. And in like manner in other
-subjects, men, as their views of nature became more distinct
-and precise, modified, so far as it was necessary for
-consistency's sake, their first rude interpretations of the
-Sacred Narrative; so that, without in any degree losing its
-import as a view of the providential course of the world, it
-should be so conceived as not to contradict what they knew
-of the natural order of things.
-
-But this accommodation was not always made without painful
-struggles and angry controversies. When men had conceived
-the occurrences of the Sacred Narrative in a particular
-manner, they could not readily and willingly adopt a new
-mode of conception; and all attempts to recommend to them
-such novelties, they {302} resisted as attacks upon the
-sacredness of the Narrative. They had clothed their belief
-of the workings of Providence in certain images; and they
-clung to those images with the persuasion that, without
-them, their belief could not subsist. Thus they imagined to
-themselves that the earth was a flat floor, solidly and
-broadly laid for the convenience of man; and they felt as if
-the kindness of Providence was disparaged, when it was
-maintained that the earth was a globe held together only by
-the mutual attraction of its parts.
-
-The most memorable instance of a struggle of this kind is to
-be found in the circumstances which attended the
-introduction of the Heliocentric Theory of Copernicus to
-general acceptance. On this controversy I have already made
-some remarks in the _History of Science_[20\10], and have
-attempted to draw from it some lessons which may be useful
-to us when any similar conflict of opinions may occur. I
-will here add a few reflections with a similar view.
-
-[Note 20\10: B. v. c. iii. sect. 4.]
-
-6. _Such difficulties inevitable._--In the first place, I
-remark that such modifications of the current interpretation
-of the words of Scripture appear to be an inevitable
-consequence of the progressive character of Natural Science.
-Science is constantly teaching us to describe known facts in
-new language; but the language of Scripture is always the
-same. And not only so, but the language of Scripture is
-necessarily adapted to the common state of man's
-intellectual development, in which he is supposed not to be
-possessed of science. Hence the phrases used by Scripture
-are precisely those which science soon teaches man to
-consider as inaccurate. Yet they are not, on that account,
-the less fitted for their proper purpose: for if any terms
-had been used, adapted to a more advanced state of
-knowledge, they must have been unintelligible among those to
-whom the Scripture was first addressed. If the Jews had been
-told that water existed in the clouds in small drops, they
-would have marvelled that it did {303} not constantly
-descend; and to have explained the reason of this, would
-have been to teach Atmology in the sacred writings. If they
-had read in their Scripture that the earth was a sphere,
-when it appeared to be a plain, they would only have been
-disturbed in their thoughts or driven to some wild and
-baseless imaginations, by a declaration to them so strange.
-If the Divine Speaker, instead of saying that he would set
-his bow in the clouds, had been made to declare that he
-would give to water the property of refracting different
-colours at different angles, how utterly unmeaning to the
-hearers would the words have been! And in these cases, the
-expressions, being unintelligible, startling, and
-bewildering, would have been such as tended to unfit the
-Sacred Narrative for its place in the providential
-dispensation of the world.
-
-Accordingly, in the great controversy which took place in
-Galileo's time between the defenders of the then customary
-interpretations of Scripture, and the assertors of the
-Copernican system of the universe, when the innovators were
-upbraided with maintaining opinions contrary to Scripture,
-they replied that Scripture was not intended to teach men
-astronomy, and that it expressed the acts of divine power in
-images which were suited to the ideas of unscientific men.
-To speak of the rising and setting and travelling of the
-sun, of the fixity and of the foundations of the earth, was
-to use the only language which would have made the Sacred
-Narrative intelligible. To extract from these and the like
-expressions doctrines of science, was, they declared, in the
-highest degree unjustifiable; and such a course could lead,
-they held, to no result but a weakening of the authority of
-Scripture in proportion as its credit was identified with
-that of these modes of applying it. And this judgment has
-since been generally assented to by those who most reverence
-and value the study of the designs of Providence as well as
-that of the works of nature.
-
-7. _Science tells us nothing concerning Creation._--Other
-apparent difficulties arise from the accounts given in the
-Scripture of the first origin of the world {304} in which we
-live: for example, Light is represented as created before
-the Sun. With regard to difficulties of this kind, it
-appears that we may derive some instruction from the result
-to which we were led in the last chapter;--namely, that in
-the sciences which trace the progress of natural
-occurrences, we can in no case go back to an origin, but in
-every instance appear to find ourselves separated from it by
-a state of things, and an order of events, of a kind
-altogether different from those which come under our
-experience. The thread of induction respecting the natural
-course of the world snaps in our fingers, when we try to
-ascertain where its beginning is. Since, then, science can
-teach us nothing positive respecting the beginning of
-things, she can neither contradict nor confirm what is
-taught by Scripture on that subject; and thus, as it is
-unworthy timidity in the lover of Scripture to fear
-contradiction, so is it ungrounded presumption to look for
-confirmation, in such cases. The providential history of the
-world has its own beginning, and its own evidence; and we
-can only render the system insecure, by making it lean on
-our material sciences. If any one were to suggest that the
-nebular hypothesis countenances the Scripture history of the
-formation of this system, by showing how the luminous matter
-of the sun might exist previous to the sun itself, we should
-act wisely in rejecting such an attempt to weave together
-these two heterogeneous threads;--the one a part of a
-providential scheme, the other a fragment of a physical
-speculation.
-
-We shall best learn those lessons of the true philosophy of
-science which it is our object to collect, by attending to
-portions of science which have gone through such crises as
-we are now considering; nor is it requisite, for this
-purpose, to bring forwards any subjects which are still
-under discussion. It may, however, be mentioned that such
-maxims as we are now endeavouring to establish, and the one
-before us in particular, bear with a peculiar force upon
-those Palætiological Sciences of which we have been treating
-in the present Book. {305}
-
-8. _Scientific views, when familiar, do not disturb the
-authority of Scripture._--There is another reflection which
-may serve to console and encourage us in the painful
-struggles which thus take place, between those who maintain
-interpretations of Scripture already prevalent and those who
-contend for such new ones as the new discoveries of science
-require. It is this;--that though the new opinion is
-resisted by one party as something destructive of the credit
-of Scripture and the reverence which is its due, yet, in
-fact, when the new interpretation has been generally
-established and incorporated with men's current thoughts, it
-ceases to disturb their views of the authority of the
-Scripture or of the truth of its teaching. When the language
-of Scripture, invested with its new meaning, has become
-familiar to men, it is found that the ideas which it calls
-up are quite as reconcileable as the former ones were, with
-the most entire acceptance of the providential dispensation.
-And when this has been found to be the case, all cultivated
-persons look back with surprise at the mistake of those who
-thought that the essence of the revelation was involved in
-their own arbitrary version of some collateral circumstance
-in the revealed narrative. At the present day, we can hardly
-conceive how reasonable men could ever have imagined that
-religious reflections on the stability of the earth, and the
-beauty and use of the luminaries which revolve round it,
-would be interfered with by an acknowledgment that this rest
-and motion are apparent only[21\10]. And thus the authority
-of revelation is not shaken by any changes introduced by the
-progress of science in the mode of interpreting expressions
-which describe physical objects and occurrences; provided
-the new interpretation is admitted at a proper season, and
-in a proper spirit; so as to soften, as much as possible,
-both the public controversies and the private scruples which
-almost inevitably accompany such an alteration.
-
-[Note 21\10: I have here borrowed a sentence or two from my
-own _History_.]
-
-9. _When should old Interpretations be given up?_--But the
-question then occurs, What is the proper {306} season for a
-religious and enlightened commentator to make such a change
-in the current interpretation of sacred Scripture? At what
-period ought the established exposition of a passage to be
-given up, and a new mode of understanding the passage, such
-as is, or seems to be, required by new discoveries
-respecting the laws of nature, accepted in its place? It is
-plain, that to introduce such an alteration lightly and
-hastily would be a procedure fraught with inconvenience; for
-if the change were made in such a manner, it might be
-afterwards discovered that it had been adopted without
-sufficient reason, and that it was necessary to reinstate
-the old exposition. And the minds of the readers of
-Scripture, always to a certain extent and for a time
-disturbed by the subversion of their long-established
-notions, would be distressed without any need, and might be
-seriously unsettled. While, on the other hand, a too
-protracted and obstinate resistance to the innovation, on
-the part of the scriptural expositors, would tend to
-identify, at least in the minds of many, the authority of
-the Scripture with the truth of the exposition; and
-therefore would bring discredit upon the revealed word, when
-the established interpretation was finally proved to be
-untenable.
-
-A rule on this subject, propounded by some of the most
-enlightened dignitaries of the Roman Catholic church, on the
-occasion of the great Copernican controversy begun by
-Galileo, seems well worthy of our attention. The following
-was the opinion given by Cardinal Bellarmine at the
-time:--'When a _demonstration_ shall be found to establish the
-earth's motion, it will be proper to interpret the sacred
-Scriptures otherwise than they have hitherto been
-interpreted in those passages where mention is made of the
-stability of the earth and movement of the heavens.' This
-appears to be a judicious and reasonable maxim for such
-cases in general. So long as the supposed scientific
-discovery is doubtful, the exposition of the meaning of
-Scripture given by commentators of established credit is not
-wantonly to be disturbed: but when a scientific theory,
-irreconcileable with this ancient {307} interpretation, is
-clearly proved, we must give up the interpretation, and seek
-some new mode of understanding the passage in question, by
-means of which it may be consistent with what we know; for
-if it be not, our conception of the things so described is
-no longer consistent with itself.
-
-It may be said that this rule is indefinite, for who shall
-decide when a new theory is completely demonstrated, and the
-old interpretation become untenable? But to this we may
-reply, that if the rule be assented to, its application will
-not be very difficult. For when men have admitted as a
-general rule, that the current interpretations of scriptural
-expressions respecting natural objects and events may
-possibly require, and in some cases certainly will require,
-to be abandoned, and new ones admitted, they will hardly
-allow themselves to contend for such interpretations as if
-they were essential parts of revelation; and will look upon
-the change of exposition, whether it come sooner or later,
-without alarm or anger. And when men lend themselves to the
-progress of truth in this spirit, it is not of any material
-importance at what period a new and satisfactory
-interpretation of the scriptural difficulty is found; since
-a scientific exactness in our apprehension of the meaning of
-such passages as are now referred to is very far from being
-essential to our full acceptance of revelation.
-
-10. _In what Spirit should the Change be accepted?_--Still
-these revolutions in scriptural interpretation must always
-have in them something which distresses and disturbs
-religious communities. And such uneasy feelings will take a
-different shape, according as the community acknowledges or
-rejects a paramount interpretative authority in its
-religious leaders. In the case in which the interpretation
-of the Church is binding upon all its members, the more
-placid minds rest in peace upon the ancient exposition, till
-the spiritual authorities announce that the time for the
-adoption of a new view has arrived; but in these
-circumstances, the more stirring and inquisitive minds,
-which cannot refrain from the pursuit of new truths {308}
-and exact conceptions, are led to opinions which, being
-contrary to those of the Church, are held to be sinful. On
-the other hand, if the religious constitution of the
-community allow and encourage each man to study and
-interpret for himself the Sacred Writings, we are met by
-evils of another kind. In this case, although, by the
-unforced influence of admired commentators, there may
-prevail a general agreement in the usual interpretation of
-difficult passages, yet as each reader of the Scripture
-looks upon the sense which he has adopted as being his own
-interpretation, he maintains it, not with the tranquil
-acquiescence of one who has deposited his judgment in the
-hands of his Church, but with the keenness and strenuousness
-of self-love. In such a state of things, though no judicial
-severities can be employed against the innovators, there may
-arise more angry controversies than in the other case.
-
-It is impossible to overlook the lesson which here offers
-itself, that it is in the highest degree unwise in the
-friends of religion, whether individuals or communities,
-unnecessarily to embark their credit in expositions of
-Scripture on matters which appertain to natural Science. By
-delivering physical doctrines as the teaching of revelation,
-religion may lose much, but cannot gain anything. This maxim
-of practical wisdom has often been urged by Christian
-writers. Thus St. Augustine says[22\10]: 'In obscure matters
-and things far removed from our senses, if we read anything,
-even in the divine Scripture, which may produce diverse
-opinions without damaging the faith which we cherish, let us
-not rush headlong by positive assertion to either the one
-opinion or the other; lest, when a more thorough discussion
-has shown the opinion which we had adopted to be false, our
-faith may fall with it: and we should be found contending,
-not for the doctrine of the sacred Scriptures, but for our
-own; endeavouring to make our doctrine to be that of the
-Scriptures, instead of taking the doctrine of the Scriptures
-to be ours.' And in nearly the same spirit, at the {309}
-time of the Copernican controversy, it was thought proper to
-append to the work of Copernicus a postil, to say that the
-work was written to account for the phenomena, and that
-people must not run on blindly and condemn either of the
-opposite opinions. Even when the Inquisition, in 1616,
-thought itself compelled to pronounce a decision upon this
-subject, the verdict was delivered in very moderate
-language;--that 'the doctrine of the earth's motion appeared
-to be contrary to Scripture:' and yet, moderate as this
-expression is, it has been blamed by judicious members of
-the Roman church as deciding a point such as religious
-authorities ought not to pretend to decide; and has brought
-upon that church no ordinary weight of general condemnation.
-Kepler pointed out, in his lively manner, the imprudence of
-employing the force of religious authorities on such
-subjects: _Acies dolabræ in ferrum illisa, postea nec in
-lignum valet amplius. Capiat hoc cujus interest_. 'If you
-_will_ try to chop iron, the axe becomes unable to cut even
-wood. I warn those whom it concerns.'
-
-[Note 22\10: Lib. i. _de Genesi_, cap. xviii.]
-
-11. _In what Spirit should the Change be urged?_--But while
-we thus endeavour to show in what manner the interpreters of
-Scripture may most safely and most properly accept the
-discoveries of science, we must not forget that there may be
-errours committed on the other side also; and that men of
-science, in bringing forward views which may for a time
-disturb the minds of lovers of Scripture, should consider
-themselves as bound by strict rules of candour, moderation,
-and prudence. Intentionally to make their supposed
-discoveries a means of discrediting, contradicting, or
-slighting the sacred Scriptures, or the authority of
-religion, is in them unpardonable. As men who make the
-science of Truth the business of their lives, and are
-persuaded of her genuine superiority, and certain of her
-ultimate triumph, they are peculiarly bound to urge her
-claims in a calm and temperate spirit; not forgetting that
-there are other kinds of truth besides that which they
-peculiarly study. They may properly reject authority in
-matters of science; but they are to leave {310} it its
-proper office in matters of religion. I may here again quote
-Kepler's expressions: 'In Theology we balance authorities,
-in Philosophy we weigh reasons. A holy man was Lactantius
-who denied that the earth was round; a holy man was
-Augustine, who granted the rotundity, but denied the
-antipodes; a holy thing to me is the Inquisition, which
-allows the smallness of the earth, but denies its motion;
-but more holy to me is Truth; and hence I prove, from
-philosophy, that the earth is round, and inhabited on every
-side, of small size, and in motion among the stars,--and
-this I do with no disrespect to the Doctors.' I the more
-willingly quote such a passage from Kepler, because the
-entire ingenuousness and sincere piety of his character does
-not allow us to suspect him in anything of hypocrisy or
-latent irony. That similar professions of respect may be
-made ironically, we have a noted example in the celebrated
-Introduction to _Galileo's Dialogue on the Copernican
-System_; probably the part which was most offensive to the
-authorities. 'Some years ago,' he begins, 'a wholesome edict
-was promulgated at Rome, which, in order to check the
-perilous scandals of the present age, imposed silence upon
-the Pythagorean opinion of the mobility of the earth. There
-were not wanting,' he proceeds, 'persons who rashly asserted
-that this decree was the result, not of a judicious inquiry,
-but of passion ill-informed; and complaints were heard that
-councillors, utterly unacquainted with astronomical
-observation, ought not to be allowed, with their sudden
-prohibitions, to clip the wings of speculative intellects.
-_At the hearing of rash lamentations like these, my zeal
-could not keep silence._' And he then goes on to say, that
-he wishes, in his _Dialogue_, to show that the subject had
-been fully examined at Rome. Here the irony is quite
-transparent, and the sarcasm glaringly obvious. I think we
-may venture to say that this is not the temper in which
-scientific questions should be treated; although by some,
-perhaps, the prohibition of public discussion may be
-considered as justifying any evasion which is likely to pass
-unpunished. {311}
-
-12. _Duty of Mutual Forbearance._--We may add, as a further
-reason for mutual forbearance in such cases, that the true
-interests of both parties are the same. The man of science
-is concerned, no less than any other person, in the truth
-and import of the divine dispensation; the religious man, no
-less than the man of science, is, by the nature of his
-intellect, incapable of believing two contradictory
-declarations. Hence they have both alike a need for
-understanding the Scripture in some way in which it shall be
-consistent with their understanding of nature. It is for
-their common advantage to conciliate, as Kepler says, the
-finger and the tongue of God, his works and his word. And
-they may find abundant reason to bear with each other, even
-if they should adopt for this purpose different
-interpretations, each finding one satisfactory to himself;
-or if any one should decline employing his thoughts on such
-subjects at all. I have elsewhere[23\10] quoted a passage
-from Kepler[24\10] which appears to me written in a most
-suitable spirit: 'I beseech my reader that, not unmindful of
-the divine goodness bestowed upon man, he do with me praise
-and celebrate the wisdom of the Creator, which I open to him
-from a more inward explication of the form of the world,
-from a searching of causes, from a detection of the errours
-of vision; and that thus not only in the firmness and
-stability of the earth may we perceive with gratitude the
-preservation of all living things in nature as the gift of
-God: but also that in its motion, so recondite, so
-admirable, we may acknowledge the wisdom of the Creator. But
-whoever is too dull to receive this science, or too weak to
-believe the Copernican system without harm to his piety,
-him, I say, I advise that, leaving the school of astronomy,
-and condemning, if so he please, any doctrines of the
-philosophers, he follow his own path, and desist from this
-wandering through the universe; and that, lifting up his
-natural eyes, with which alone he can see, {312} he pour
-himself out from his own heart in worship of God the
-Creator, being certain that he gives no less worship to God
-than the astronomer, to whom God has given to see more
-clearly with his inward eyes, and who, from what he has
-himself discovered, both can and will glorify God.'
-
-[Note 23\10: _Bridgewater Tr._ p. 314.]
-
-[Note 24\10: _Com. Stell. Mart._ Introd.]
-
-13. _Case of Galileo._--I may perhaps venture here to make a
-remark or two upon this subject with reference to a charge
-brought against a certain portion of the _History of the
-Inductive Sciences_. Complaint has been made[25\10] that the
-character of the Roman church, as shown in its behaviour
-towards Galileo, is misrepresented in the account given of
-it in the History of Astronomy. It is asserted that Galileo
-provoked the condemnation he incurred; first, by
-pertinaciously demanding the assent of the ecclesiastical
-authorities to his opinion of the consistency of the
-Copernican doctrine with Scripture; and afterwards by
-contumaciously, and, as we have seen, contumeliously
-violating the silence which the Church had enjoined upon
-him. It is further declared that the statement which
-represents it as the habit of the Roman church to dogmatize
-on points of natural science is unfounded; as well as the
-opinion that in consequence of this habit, new scientific
-truths were promulgated less boldly in Italy than in other
-countries. I shall reply very briefly on these subjects; for
-the decision of them is by no means requisite in order to
-establish the doctrines to which I have been led in the
-present chapter, nor, I hope, to satisfy my reader that my
-views have been collected from an impartial consideration of
-scientific history.
-
-[Note 25\10: _Dublin Review_, No. ix. July, 1838, p. 72.]
-
-With regard to Galileo, I do not think it can be denied that
-he obtruded his opinions upon the ecclesiastical authorities
-in an unnecessary and imprudent manner. He was of an ardent
-character, strongly convinced himself, and urged on still
-more by the conviction which he produced among his
-disciples, and {313} thus he became impatient for the
-triumph of truth. This judgment of him has recently been
-delivered by various independent authorities, and has
-undoubtedly considerable foundation[26\10]. As to the
-question whether authority in matters of natural science
-were habitually claimed by the authorities of the Church of
-Rome, I have to allow that I cannot produce instances which
-establish such a habit. We, who have been accustomed to have
-daily before our eyes the Monition which the Romish editors
-of Newton thought it necessary to prefix--_Cæterum latis a
-summo Pontifice contra telluris motum Decretis, nos obsequi
-profitemur_--were not likely to conjecture that this was a
-solitary instance of the interposition of the Papal
-authority on such subjects. But although it would be easy to
-find declarations of heresy delivered by Romish
-Universities, and writers of great authority, against tenets
-belonging to the natural sciences, I am not aware that any
-other case can be adduced in which the Church or the Pope
-can be shown to have pronounced such a sentence. I am well
-contented to acknowledge this; for I should be far more
-gratified by finding myself compelled to hold up the
-seventeenth century as a model for the nineteenth in this
-respect, than by having to sow enmity between the admirers
-of the past and the present through any disparaging
-contrast[27\10].
-
-[Note 26\10: Besides the _Dublin Review_, I may quote the
-_Edinburgh Review_, which I suppose will not be thought
-likely to have a bias in favour of the exercise of
-ecclesiastical authority in matters of science; though
-certainly there is a puerility in the critic's phraseology
-which does not add to the weight of his judgment. 'Galileo
-contrived to surround the truth with every variety of
-obstruction. The tide of knowledge, which had hitherto
-advanced in peace, he crested with angry breakers, and he
-involved in its surf both his friends and his foes.'--_Ed.
-Rev._ No. cxxiii. p. 126.]
-
-[Note 27\10: I may add that the most candid of the adherents
-of the Church of Rome condemn the assumption of authority in
-matters of science, made, in this one instance at least, by
-the ecclesiastical tribunals. The author of the _Ages of
-Faith_ (book viii. p. 248), says, 'A Congregation, it is to
-be lamented, declared the new system to be opposed to
-Scripture, and therefore heretical.']
-
-{314} With respect to the attempt made in my History to
-characterize the intellectual habits of Italy as produced by
-her religious condition,--certainly it would ill become any
-student of the history of science to speak slightingly of
-that country, always the mother of sciences, always ready to
-catch the dawn and hail the rising of any new light of
-knowledge. But I think our admiration of this activity and
-acuteness of mind is by no means inconsistent with the
-opinion, that new truths were promulgated more boldly beyond
-the Alps, and that the subtilty of the Italian intellect
-loved to insinuate what the rough German bluntly asserted.
-Of the decent duplicity with which forbidden opinions were
-handled, the reviewer himself gives us instances, when he
-boasts of the liberality with which Copernican professors
-were placed in important stations by the ecclesiastical
-authorities, soon after the doctrine of the motion of the
-earth had been declared by the same authorities to be
-contrary to Scripture. And in the same spirit is the process
-of demanding from Galileo a public and official recantation
-of opinions which he had repeatedly been told by his
-ecclesiastical superiors he might hold as much as he
-pleased. I think it is easy to believe that among persons so
-little careful to reconcile public profession with private
-conviction, official decorum was all that was demanded. When
-Galileo had made his renunciation of the earth's motion on
-his knees, he rose and said, as we are told, _E pur si
-muove_--'and yet it _does_ move.' This is sometimes
-represented as the heroic soliloquy of a mind cherishing its
-conviction of the truth, in spite of persecution; I think we
-may more naturally conceive it uttered as a playful epigram
-in the ear of a cardinal's secretary, with a full knowledge
-that it would be immediately repeated to his master[28\10].
-
-[Note 28\10: I have somewhat further discussed the case of
-Galileo in the later editions of the _History_, book v.
-chap. iii. sect. 4.]
-
-Besides the Ideas involved in the material sciences, {315}
-of which we have already examined the principal ones, there
-is one Idea or Conception which our Sciences do not indeed
-include, but to which they not obscurely point; and the
-importance of this Idea will make it proper to speak of it,
-though this must be done very briefly.
-
-
-
-
-{{316}}
-CHAPTER V.
-
-OF THE CONCEPTION OF A FIRST CAUSE.
-
-
-1. AT the end of the last chapter but one, we were led to
-this result,--that we cannot, in any of the Palætiological
-Sciences, ascend to a beginning which is of the same nature
-as the existing cause of events, and which depends upon
-causes that are still in operation. Philosophers never have
-demonstrated, and probably never will be able to
-demonstrate, what was the original condition of the solar
-system, of the earth, of the vegetable and animal worlds, of
-languages, of arts. On all these subjects the course of
-investigation, followed backwards as far as our materials
-allow us to pursue it, ends at last in an impenetrable
-gloom. We strain our eyes in vain when we try, by our
-natural faculties, to discern an origin.
-
-2. Yet speculative men have been constantly employed in
-attempts to arrive at that which thus seems to be placed out
-of their reach. The Origin of Languages, the Origin of the
-present Distribution of Plants and Animals, the Origin of
-the Earth, have been common subjects of diligent and
-persevering inquiry. Indeed inquiries respecting such
-subjects have been, at least till lately, the usual form
-which Palætiological researches have assumed. _Cosmogony_,
-the Origin of the World, of which, in such speculations, the
-earth was considered as a principal part, has been a
-favourite study both of ancient and of modern times: and
-most of the attempts at Geology previous to the present
-period have been _Cosmogonies_ or _Geogonies_, rather than
-that more genuine science which we have endeavoured to
-delineate. Again: Glossology, though now an extensive body
-of solid knowledge, was {317} mainly brought into being by
-inquiries concerning the Original Language spoken by men;
-and the nature of the first separation and diffusion of
-languages, the first peopling of the earth by man and by
-animals, were long sought after with ardent curiosity,
-although of course with reference to the authority of the
-Scriptures, as well as the evidence of natural phenomena.
-Indeed the interest of such inquiries even yet is far from
-being extinguished. The disposition to explore the past in
-the hope of finding, by the light of natural reasoning as
-well as by the aid of revelation, the origin of the present
-course of things, appears to be unconquerable. 'What was the
-beginning?' is a question which the human race cannot desist
-from perpetually asking. And no failure in obtaining a
-satisfactory answer can prevent inquisitive spirits from
-again and again repeating the inquiry, although the blank
-abyss into which it is uttered does not even return an echo.
-
-3. What, then, is the reason of an attempt so pertinacious
-yet so fruitless? By what motive are we impelled thus
-constantly to seek what we can never find? Why are the
-errour of our conjectures, the futility of our reasonings,
-the precariousness of our interpretations, over and over
-again proved to us in vain? Why is it impossible for us to
-acquiesce in our ignorance and to relinquish the inquiry?
-Why cannot we content ourselves with examining those links
-of the chain of causes which are nearest to us,--those in
-which the connexion is intelligible and clear; instead of
-fixing our attention upon those remote portions where we can
-no longer estimate its coherence? In short, why did not men
-from the first take for the subject of their speculations
-the Course of Nature rather than the Origin of Things?
-
-To this we reply, that in doing what they have thus done, in
-seeking what they have sought, men are impelled by an
-intellectual necessity. They cannot conceive a Series of
-connected occurrences without a Commencement; they cannot
-help supposing a cause for the Whole, as well as a cause for
-each part; they cannot be satisfied with a succession of
-causes without {318} assuming a First Cause. Such an
-assumption is necessarily impressed upon our minds by our
-contemplation of a series of causes and effects; that _there
-must be a First Cause_, is accepted by all intelligent
-reasoners as an Axiom: and like other Axioms, its truth is
-necessarily implied in the Idea which it involves.
-
-4. The evidence of this axiom may be illustrated in several
-ways. In the first place, the axiom is assumed in the
-argument usually offered to prove the existence of the
-Deity. Since, it is said, the world now exists, and since
-nothing cannot produce something, something must have
-existed from eternity. This Something is the First Cause: it
-is God.
-
-Now what I have to remark here is this:--the conclusiveness
-of this argument, as a proof of the existence of one
-independent, immutable Deity, depends entirely upon the
-assumption of the axiom above stated. The World, a **series
-of causes and effects, exists: therefore there must be, not
-only this series of causes and effects, but also a First
-Cause. It will be easily seen, that without the axiom, that
-in every series of causes and effects there must be a First
-Cause, the reasoning is altogether inconclusive.
-
-5. Or to put the matter otherwise: The argument for the
-existence of the Deity was stated thus: Something exists,
-therefore something must have existed from eternity.
-'Granted,' the opponent might say; 'but this something which
-has existed from eternity, why may it not be this very
-series of causes and effects which is now going on, and
-which appears to contain in itself no indication of
-beginning or end?' And thus, without the assumption of the
-necessity of a First Cause, the force of the argument may be
-resisted.
-
-6. But, it may be asked, how do those who have written to
-prove the existence of the Deity reply to such an objection
-as the one just stated? It is natural to suppose that, on a
-subject so interesting and so long discussed, all the
-obvious arguments with their replies, have been fully
-brought into view. What is the result in this case? {319}
-
-The principal modes of replying to the above objection, that
-the series of causes and effects which now exists, may have
-existed from eternity, appear to be these.
-
-In the first place, our minds cannot be satisfied with a
-series of successive, dependent, causes and effects, without
-something first and independent. We pass from effect to
-cause, and from that to a higher cause, in search of
-something on which the mind can rest; but if we can do
-nothing but repeat this process, there is no use in it. We
-move our limbs, but make no advance. Our question is not
-answered, but evaded. The mind cannot acquiesce in the
-destiny thus presented to it, of being referred from event
-to event, from object to object, along an interminable vista
-of causation and time. Now this mode of stating the
-reply,--to say that the mind _cannot thus be satisfied_,
-appears to be equivalent to saying that the mind is
-conscious of a Principle, in virtue of which such a view as
-this must be rejected;--the mind takes refuge in the
-assumption of a First Cause, from an employment inconsistent
-with its own nature.
-
-7. Or again, we may avoid the objection, by putting the
-argument for the existence of a Deity in this form: The
-series of causes and effects which we call the _world_, or
-the _course of nature_, may be considered as a _whole_, and
-this whole must have a cause of its existence. The whole
-collection of objects and events may be comprehended as a
-single effect, and of this effect there must be a cause.
-This Cause of the Universe must be superior to, and
-independent of the special events, which, happening in time,
-make up the universe of which He is the cause. He must exist
-and exercise causation, before these events can begin: He
-must be the First Cause.
-
-Although the argument is here somewhat modified in form, the
-substance is the same as before. For the assumption that we
-may consider the whole series of causes and effects as a
-_single effect_, is equivalent to the assumption that
-besides partial causes we must have a First Cause. And thus
-the Idea of a First Cause, and {320} the axiom which asserts
-its necessity, are recognized in the usual argumentation on
-this subject.
-
-8. This Idea of a First Cause, and the principle involved in
-the Idea, have been the subject of discussion in another
-manner. As we have already said, we assume as an axiom that
-a First Cause must exist; and we assert that God, the First
-Cause, exists eternal and immutable, by the necessity which
-the axiom implies. Hence God is said to exist
-necessarily;--to be a necessarily existing being. And when
-this _necessary existence_ of God had been spoken of, it
-soon began to be contemplated as a sufficient reason, and as
-an absolute demonstration of His existence; without any need
-of referring to the world as an effect, in order to arrive
-at God as the cause. And thus men conceived that they had
-obtained a proof of the existence of the Deity, _à priori_,
-from Ideas, as well as _à posteriori_, from Effects.
-
-9. Thus, Thomas Aquinas employs this reasoning to prove the
-_eternity_ of God[29\10]: 'Oportet ponere aliquod primum
-necessarium quod est per se ipsum necessarium; et hoc est
-Deus, cum sit prima causa ut dictum est: igitur Deus æternus
-est, cum omne necessarium per se sit æternum.' It is true
-that the schoolmen never professed to be able to prove the
-_existence_ of the Deity _à priori_: but they made use of
-this conception of necessary existence in a manner which
-approached very near to such an attempt. Thus Suarez[30\10]
-discusses the question, 'Utrum aliquo modo possit _à priori_
-demonstrari Deum esse.' And resolves the question in this
-manner: 'Ad hunc ergo modum dicendum est: Demonstrato _à
-posteriori_ Deum esse ens necessarium et a se, ex hoc
-attributo posse _à priori_ demonstrari præter illud non
-posse esse aliud ens necessarium et a se, et consequenter
-demonstrari Deum esse.'
-
-[Note 29\10: Aquin. _Cont. Gentil._ lib. i. c. xiv. p. 21.]
-
-[Note 30\10: _Metaphys._ tom. ii. disp. xxix. sect. 3, p. 28.]
-
-But in modern times attempts were made by Descartes and
-Samuel Clarke, to prove the Divine {321} existence at once
-_à priori_, from the conception of necessary existence;
-which, it was argued, could not subsist without actual
-existence. This argumentation was acutely and severely
-criticised by Dr. Waterland.
-
-10. Without dwelling upon a subject, the discussion of which
-does not enter into the design of the present work, I may
-remark that the question whether an _à priori_ proof of the
-existence of a First Cause be possible, is a question
-concerning the nature of our Ideas, and the evidence of the
-axioms which they involve, of the same kind as many
-questions which we have already had to discuss. Is our
-Conception or Idea of a First Cause gathered from the
-effects we see around us? It is plain that we must answer,
-here as in other cases, that the Idea is not extracted from
-the phenomena, but assumed in order that the phenomena may
-become intelligible to the mind;--that the Idea is a
-necessary one, inasmuch as it does not depend upon
-observation for its evidence; but that it depends upon
-observation for its development, since without some
-observation, we cannot conceive the mind to be cognizant of
-the relation of causation at all. In this respect, however,
-the Idea of a First Cause is no less necessary than the
-ideas of Space, or Time, or Cause in general. And whether we
-call the reasoning derived from such a necessity an argument
-_à priori_ or _à posteriori_, in either case it possesses
-the genuine character of demonstration, being founded upon
-axioms which command universal assent.
-
-11. I have, however, spoken of our _Conception_ rather than
-of our _Idea_ of a First Cause; for the notion of a First
-Cause appears to be rather a modification of the Fundamental
-Idea of Cause, which was formerly discussed, than a separate
-and peculiar Idea. And the Axiom, _that there must be a
-First Cause_, is recognised by most persons as an
-application of the general Axiom of Causation, _that every
-effect must have a Cause_; this latter Axiom being applied
-to the World, considered in its totality, as a single
-Effect. This distinction, however, between an Idea and a
-Conception, is of no material consequence to our argument;
-provided we {322} allow the maxim, that there must be a
-First Cause, to be necessarily and evidently true; whether
-it be thought better to speak of it as an independent Axiom,
-or to consider it as derived from the general Axiom of Causation.
-
-12. Thus we necessarily infer a First Cause, although the
-Palætiological Sciences only point _towards_ it, and do not
-lead us _to_ it. But I must observe further; that in each of
-the series of events which form the subject of
-Palætiological research, the First Cause is the _same_.
-Without here resting upon reasoning founded upon our
-Conception of a First Cause, I may remark that this identity
-is proved by the close connexion of all the branches of
-natural science, and the way in which the causes and the
-events of each are interwoven with those which belong to the
-others. We must needs believe that the First Cause which
-produced the earth and its atmosphere is also the Cause of
-the plants which clothe its surface; that the First Cause of
-the vegetable and of the animal world are the same; that the
-First Cause which produced light produced also eyes; that
-the First Cause which produced air and organs of
-articulation produced also language and the faculties by
-which language is rendered possible: and if _those_
-faculties, then also all man's other faculties;--the powers
-by which, as we have said, he discerns right and wrong, and
-recognises a providential as well as a natural course of
-things. Nor can we think otherwise than that the Being who
-gave these faculties, bestowed them for some
-purpose;--bestowed them for that purpose which alone is
-compatible with their nature:--the purpose, namely, of
-guiding and elevating man in his present career, and of
-preparing him for another state of being to which they
-irresistibly direct his hopes. And thus, although, as we
-have said, no one of the Palætiological Sciences can be
-traced continuously to an Origin, yet they not only each
-point to an Origin, but all to the same Origin. Their lines
-are broken indeed, as they run backwards into the early
-periods of the world, but yet they all appear to converge to
-the same invisible point. And {323} this point, thus
-indicated by the natural course of things, can be no other
-than that which is disclosed to us as the starting-point of
-the providential course of the world; for we are persuaded
-by such reasons as have just been hinted, that the Creator
-of the natural world can be no other than the Author and
-Governor and Judge of the moral and spiritual world.
-
-13. Thus we are led, by our material Sciences, and
-especially by the Palætiological class of them, to the
-borders of a higher region, and to a point of view from
-which we have a prospect of other provinces of
-knowledge;--to contemplations in which other faculties of
-man are concerned besides his intellectual, other interests
-involved besides those of speculation. On these it does not
-belong to our present plan to dwell: but even such a brief
-glance as we have taken of the connexion of material with
-moral speculations may not be useless, since it may serve to
-show that the principles of truth which we are now
-laboriously collecting among the results of the physical
-sciences, may possibly find some application in those parts
-of knowledge towards which men most naturally look with
-deeper interest and more serious reverence.
-
-
-We have been employed hitherto in examining the materials of
-knowledge, Facts and Ideas;--Facts in our former History,
-and Ideas in the present History. We have dwelt at length on
-this latter element; inasmuch as the consideration of it is,
-on various accounts, and especially at the present time, by
-far the most important, having hitherto been least
-distinctly attended to as a special element of scientific
-knowledge.
-
-There still remains an important task, with a view to which
-we have undertaken this survey of the past course of human
-thought and discovery:--namely, the task of determining the
-processes by which these materials may actually be made to
-constitute knowledge. {324} We have surveyed the stones
-which lie before us, partly built and partly ready for
-building: we have found them exactly squared, and often
-curiously covered with significant imagery and important
-inscriptions. We have now to discover how they may best be
-fitted into their places, and cemented together, so that
-rising stage above stage, they may grow at last into that
-fair and lofty temple of Truth, for which we cannot doubt
-that they were intended by the Great Architect.
-
-This task, the description of the processes by which
-Scientific Truth is discovered and established, we shall, as
-has already been said, entitle, in reference to previous
-attempts of the same kind, _Novum Organum Renovatum_.
-
-
-END OF VOL. II.
-
-
-
-_Cambridge: Printed at the University Press._
-
-
-
-
-Transcriber's Note
-
-Whewell published the first edition of the _Philosophy of the
-Inductive Sciences_ in 1840, as a companion to the 1837
-_History of the Inductive Sciences_. Revised second editions
-of both works appeared in 1847. The third editions saw a
-major reshaping of the _Philosophy_: a two volume _History
-of Scientific Ideas_ (1858 - the present text, relying upon
-resources kindly provided by the Internet Archive), _Novum
-Organon Renovatum_ (1858), and _ On the Philosophy of
-Discovery: chapters historical and critical_ (1860 - already
-in Project Gutenberg's collection: #5155).
-
-The present text has combined the two volumes into one continuous
-text. Footnotes are numbered by Book and marked [m\n] where m =
-the number of the note within the Book, and n = the number of the
-Book. In the original, notes were numbered by chapter. Page numbers
-appear in { }, or {{ }} where there is no printed number; where a
-word was hyphenated across pages the number has been placed before
-the word.
-
-Superscripts are marked with ^.
-
-There is one significant problem to report. For Book IX chapter VI,
-the Table of Contents lists 20 articles, but the actual text has
-only 19 numbered paragraphs. The text version leaves this
-inconsistency untouched; in the htm version, a correction has been
-made by numbering the paragraph beginning on p. 244 as #9, and
-renumbering those that follow, thereby matching the descriptions in
-the Table of Contents.
-
-Other corrections to the text are marked with ** and are listed
-below.
-
-Location Text of printed edition Emendation
-Vol. 1
-p. 71 conlcusion conclusion
-p. 87 vi. vii.
-p. 157 sciences science
-note 1\3 Book 1. chap. xii. Book 3. chap. ii.
-p. 231 Marriotte Mariotte
-p. 377 Winter's Winterl's
-Vol. 2
-p. 22 ingedient ingredient
-p. 124 wich which
-p. 159 attemps attempts
-p. 172 knowlege knowledge
-note 60\9 Their. Theor.
-p. 270 dfficulties difficulties
-p. 318 serious series
-
-
-
-
-
-*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK HISTORY OF SCIENTIFIC
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