diff options
| author | nfenwick <nfenwick@pglaf.org> | 2025-02-06 00:24:12 -0800 |
|---|---|---|
| committer | nfenwick <nfenwick@pglaf.org> | 2025-02-06 00:24:12 -0800 |
| commit | 2b86041c39bc9d1186d171cdc62ce8ad5dc15db6 (patch) | |
| tree | f81e116eecd63fa7a0e19b43b6c38e3fb9f452be | |
| parent | 4cdedc473f317dffd34b953b6fe872d0cc795af1 (diff) | |
| -rw-r--r-- | .gitattributes | 4 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | LICENSE.txt | 11 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | README.md | 2 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/52344-0.txt | 10362 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/52344-0.zip | bin | 219158 -> 0 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/52344-h.zip | bin | 338473 -> 0 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/52344-h/52344-h.htm | 13056 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/52344-h/images/cb100h.png | bin | 241 -> 0 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/52344-h/images/cb100h2.png | bin | 240 -> 0 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/52344-h/images/cb300h.png | bin | 272 -> 0 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/52344-h/images/cb400h.png | bin | 316 -> 0 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/52344-h/images/cb400h2.png | bin | 315 -> 0 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/52344-h/images/cover.jpg | bin | 44781 -> 0 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/52344-h/images/i_002.jpg | bin | 1948 -> 0 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/52344-h/images/i_185.jpg | bin | 58676 -> 0 bytes |
15 files changed, 17 insertions, 23418 deletions
diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d7b82bc --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,4 @@ +*.txt text eol=lf +*.htm text eol=lf +*.html text eol=lf +*.md text eol=lf diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..f0a5b40 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #52344 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/52344) diff --git a/old/52344-0.txt b/old/52344-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 79faa43..0000000 --- a/old/52344-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,10362 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg EBook of Science and Culture, and Other Essays, by -Thomas Henry Huxley - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most -other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of -the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - -Title: Science and Culture, and Other Essays - -Author: Thomas Henry Huxley - -Release Date: June 15, 2016 [EBook #52344] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SCIENCE AND CULTURE, OTHER ESSAYS *** - - - - -Produced by MWS, Adrian Mastronardi, Jason Palmer, Turgut -Dincer and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at -http://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images -generously made available by The Internet Archive/American -Libraries.) - - - - - - - - SCIENCE AND CULTURE - - AND - - OTHER ESSAYS - -[Illustration] - - SCIENCE AND CULTURE - - AND - - OTHER ESSAYS - - BY - - THOMAS HENRY HUXLEY, LL.D., F.R.S. - - - London - MACMILLAN AND CO. - AND NEW YORK - 1888 - - _All rights reserved_ - - - _First Edition printed 1881 - Reprinted 1882, 1888._ - - - - -PREFACE. - - -The Addresses, Lectures, and Essays gathered together in this volume -have appeared at intervals during the past seven years, and I can give -no better reason for republishing them in their present form, than -the fact that three earlier collections of a similar nature have been -received with favour, and, indeed, have not yet ceased to be in request. - -I beg leave to offer my best thanks to the Editors and Publishers of -the various publications in which these pieces have appeared, for their -kindly accorded permission to reprint them. - - LONDON. _October 1881._ - - - - -CONTENTS. - - - I. - - SCIENCE AND CULTURE. - - An Address delivered at the Opening of Sir Josiah Mason’s - Science College, at Birmingham, on the 1st of October - 1880 Pages 1 to 23 - - - II. - - UNIVERSITIES: ACTUAL AND IDEAL. - - The Inaugural Address of the Lord Rector of the - University of Aberdeen, 27th February 1874.—_Contemporary - Review_, 1874 24 to 64 - - - III. - - TECHNICAL EDUCATION. - - An Address delivered to the Working Men’s Club and - Institute, 1st December 1877.—_Nineteenth Century_, 1878 65 to 85 - - - IV. - - ELEMENTARY INSTRUCTION IN PHYSIOLOGY. - - Read at the Meeting of the Domestic Economy Congress at - Birmingham, 1877 86 to 93 - - - V. - - JOSEPH PRIESTLEY. - - An Address delivered on the occasion of the Presentation - of a Statue of Priestley to the Town of Birmingham, on - the 1st of August 1874.—_Macmillan’s Magazine_, 1874 94 to 127 - - - VI. - - ON THE METHOD OF ZADIG. - - A Lecture delivered at the Working Men’s College, Great - Ormond Street, 1880.—_Nineteenth Century_, 1880 128 to 148 - - - VII. - - ON THE BORDER TERRITORY BETWEEN THE ANIMAL AND THE - VEGETABLE KINGDOMS. - - An Evening Lecture at the Royal Institution, Friday, - January 28, 1876.—_Macmillan’s Magazine_, 1874 149 to 179 - - - VIII. - - ON CERTAIN ERRORS RESPECTING THE STRUCTURE OF THE HEART - ATTRIBUTED TO ARISTOTLE. - - _Nature_, 6th November 1879 180 to 198 - - - IX. - - ON THE HYPOTHESIS THAT ANIMALS ARE AUTOMATA, AND ITS - HISTORY. - - An Address delivered at the Meeting of the British - Association for the Advancement of Science, at Belfast, - 1874.—_Fortnightly Review_, 1874 199 to 245 - - - X. - - ON SENSATION AND THE UNITY OF STRUCTURE OF THE - SENSIFEROUS ORGANS. - - An Evening Lecture at the Royal Institution, Friday, - March 7, 1879.—_Nineteenth Century_, 1879 246 to 273 - - - XI. - - EVOLUTION IN BIOLOGY. - - The _Encyclopædia Britannica_, Ninth Edition, vol. viii. - 1878 274 to 309 - - - XII. - - THE COMING OF AGE OF “THE ORIGIN OF SPECIES.” - - An evening Lecture at the Royal Institution, Friday, 9th - April 1880.—_Nature_, 1880 310 to 324 - - - XIII. - - THE CONNECTION OF THE BIOLOGICAL SCIENCES WITH MEDICINE. - - An Address delivered at the Meeting of the International - Medical Congress in London, 9th August 1881 325 to 349 - - - - -I. - -SCIENCE AND CULTURE. - - -Six years ago, as some of my present hearers may remember, I had the -privilege of addressing a large assemblage of the inhabitants of this -city, who had gathered together to do honour to the memory of their -famous townsman, Joseph Priestley;[1] and, if any satisfaction attaches -to posthumous glory, we may hope that the manes of the burnt-out -philosopher were then finally appeased. - -No man, however, who is endowed with a fair share of common sense, and -not more than a fair share of vanity, will identify either contemporary -or posthumous fame with the highest good; and Priestley’s life leaves -no doubt that he, at any rate, set a much higher value upon the -advancement of knowledge, and the promotion of that freedom of thought -which is at once the cause and the consequence of intellectual progress. - -Hence I am disposed to think that, if Priestley could be amongst us -to-day, the occasion of our meeting would afford him even greater -pleasure than the proceedings which celebrated the centenary of his -chief discovery. The kindly heart would be moved, the high sense -of social duty would be satisfied, by the spectacle of well-earned -wealth, neither squandered in tawdry luxury and vainglorious show, -nor scattered with the careless charity which blesses neither him -that gives nor him that takes, but expended in the execution of a -well-considered plan for the aid of present and future generations of -those who are willing to help themselves. - -We shall all be of one mind thus far. But it is needful to share -Priestley’s keen interest in physical science; and to have learned, as -he had learned, the value of scientific training in fields of inquiry -apparently far remote from physical science; in order to appreciate, as -he would have appreciated, the value of the noble gift which Sir Josiah -Mason has bestowed upon the inhabitants of the Midland district. - -For us children of the nineteenth century, however, the establishment -of a college under the conditions of Sir Josiah Mason’s Trust, has a -significance apart from any which it could have possessed a hundred -years ago. It appears to be an indication that we are reaching the -crisis of the battle, or rather of the long series of battles, which -have been fought over education in a campaign which began long before -Priestley’s time, and will probably not be finished just yet. - -In the last century, the combatants were the champions of ancient -literature, on the one side, and those of modern literature on the -other; but, some thirty years[2] ago, the contest became complicated by -the appearance of a third army, ranged round the banner of Physical -Science. - -I am not aware that any one has authority to speak in the name of this -new host. For it must be admitted to be somewhat of a guerilla force, -composed largely of irregulars, each of whom fights pretty much for -his own hand. But the impressions of a full private, who has seen a -good deal of service in the ranks, respecting the present position of -affairs and the conditions of a permanent peace, may not be devoid -of interest; and I do not know that I could make a better use of the -present opportunity than by laying them before you. - - -From the time that the first suggestion to introduce physical science -into ordinary education was timidly whispered, until now, the advocates -of scientific education have met with opposition of two kinds. On the -one hand, they have been pooh-poohed by the men of business who pride -themselves on being the representatives of practicality; while, on the -other hand, they have been excommunicated by the classical scholars, -in their capacity of Levites in charge of the ark of culture and -monopolists of liberal education. - -The practical men believed that the idol whom they worship—rule of -thumb—has been the source of the past prosperity, and will suffice -for the future welfare of the arts and manufactures. They were of -opinion that science is speculative rubbish; that theory and practice -have nothing to do with one another; and that the scientific habit of -mind is an impediment, rather than an aid, in the conduct of ordinary -affairs. - -I have used the past tense in speaking of the practical men—for -although they were very formidable thirty years ago, I am not sure -that the pure species has not been extirpated. In fact, so far as mere -argument goes, they have been subjected to such a _feu d’enfer_ that it -is a miracle if any have escaped. But I have remarked that your typical -practical man has an unexpected resemblance to one of Milton’s angels. -His spiritual wounds, such as are inflicted by logical weapons, may be -as deep as a well and as wide as a church door, but beyond shedding a -few drops of ichor, celestial or otherwise, he is no whit the worse. -So, if any of these opponents be left, I will not waste time in vain -repetition of the demonstrative evidence of the practical value of -science; but knowing that a parable will sometimes penetrate where -syllogisms fail to effect an entrance, I will offer a story for their -consideration. - -Once upon a time, a boy, with nothing to depend upon but his own -vigorous nature, was thrown into the thick of the struggle for -existence in the midst of a great manufacturing population. He seems -to have had a hard fight, inasmuch as, by the time he was thirty -years of age, his total disposable funds amounted to twenty pounds. -Nevertheless, middle life found him giving proof of his comprehension -of the practical problems he had been roughly called upon to solve, by -a career of remarkable prosperity. - -Finally, having reached old age with its well-earned surroundings of -“honour, troops of friends,” the hero of my story bethought himself of -those who were making a like start in life, and how he could stretch -out a helping hand to them. - -After long and anxious reflection this successful practical man -of business could devise nothing better than to provide them with -the means of obtaining “sound, extensive, and practical scientific -knowledge.” And he devoted a large part of his wealth and five years of -incessant work to this end. - -I need not point the moral of a tale which, as the solid and spacious -fabric of the Scientific College assures us, is no fable, nor can -anything which I could say intensify the force of this practical answer -to practical objections. - - -We may take it for granted then, that, in the opinion of those best -qualified to judge, the diffusion of thorough scientific education is -an absolutely essential condition of industrial progress; and that the -College which has been opened to-day will confer an inestimable boon -upon those whose livelihood is to be gained by the practice of the arts -and manufactures of the district. - -The only question worth discussion is, whether the conditions, under -which the work of the College is to be carried out, are such as to give -it the best possible chance of achieving permanent success. - -Sir Josiah Mason, without doubt most wisely, has left very large -freedom of action to the trustees, to whom he proposes ultimately to -commit the administration of the College, so that they may be able to -adjust its arrangements in accordance with the changing conditions -of the future. But, with respect to three points, he has laid most -explicit injunctions upon both administrators and teachers. - -Party politics are forbidden to enter into the minds of either, so -far as the work of the College is concerned; theology is as sternly -banished from its precincts; and finally, it is especially declared -that the College shall make no provision for “mere literary instruction -and education.” - -It does not concern me at present to dwell upon the first two -injunctions any longer than may be needful to express my full -conviction of their wisdom. But the third prohibition brings us face to -face with those other opponents of scientific education, who are by no -means in the moribund condition of the practical man, but alive, alert, -and formidable. - -It is not impossible that we shall hear this express exclusion -of “literary instruction and education” from a College which, -nevertheless, professes to give a high and efficient education, sharply -criticised. Certainly the time was that the Levites of culture would -have sounded their trumpets against its walls as against an educational -Jericho. - -How often have we not been told that the study of physical science -is incompetent to confer culture; that it touches none of the higher -problems of life; and, what is worse, that the continual devotion to -scientific studies tends to generate a narrow and bigoted belief in -the applicability of scientific methods to the search after truth of -all kinds. How frequently one has reason to observe that no reply to -a troublesome argument tells so well as calling its author a “mere -scientific specialist.” And, as I am afraid it is not permissible to -speak of this form of opposition to scientific education in the past -tense; may we not expect to be told that this, not only omission, but -prohibition, of “mere literary instruction and education” is a patent -example of scientific narrow-mindedness? - -I am not acquainted with Sir Josiah Mason’s reasons for the action -which he has taken; but if, as I apprehend is the case, he refers to -the ordinary classical course of our schools and universities by the -name of “mere literary instruction and education,” I venture to offer -sundry reasons of my own in support of that action. - -For I hold very strongly by two convictions—The first is, that neither -the discipline nor the subject-matter of classical education is of -such direct value to the student of physical science as to justify -the expenditure of valuable time upon either; and the second is, that -for the purpose of attaining real culture, an exclusively scientific -education is at least as effectual as an exclusively literary education. - -I need hardly point out to you that these opinions, especially the -latter, are diametrically opposed to those of the great majority of -educated Englishmen, influenced as they are by school and university -traditions. In their belief, culture is obtainable only by a liberal -education; and a liberal education is synonymous, not merely with -education and instruction in literature, but in one particular form of -literature, namely, that of Greek and Roman antiquity. They hold that -the man who has learned Latin and Greek, however little, is educated; -while he who is versed in other branches of knowledge, however deeply, -is a more or less respectable specialist, not admissible into the -cultured caste. The stamp of the educated man, the University degree, -is not for him. - -I am too well acquainted with the generous catholicity of spirit, the -true sympathy with scientific thought, which pervades the writings -of our chief apostle of culture to identify him with these opinions; -and yet one may cull from one and another of those epistles to the -Philistines, which so much delight all who do not answer to that name, -sentences which lend them some support. - -Mr. Arnold tells us that the meaning of culture is “to know the best -that has been thought and said in the world.” It is the criticism of -life contained in literature. That criticism regards “Europe as being, -for intellectual and spiritual purposes, one great confederation, bound -to a joint action and working to a common result; and whose members -have, for their common outfit, a knowledge of Greek, Roman, and Eastern -antiquity, and of one another. Special, local, and temporary advantages -being put out of account, that modern nation will in the intellectual -and spiritual sphere make most progress, which most thoroughly carries -out this programme. And what is that but saying that we too, all of us, -as individuals, the more thoroughly we carry it out, shall make the -more progress?”[3] - -We have here to deal with two distinct propositions. The first, that -a criticism of life is the essence of culture; the second, that -literature contains the materials which suffice for the construction of -such a criticism. - -I think that we must all assent to the first proposition. For -culture certainly means something quite different from learning or -technical skill. It implies the possession of an ideal, and the habit -of critically estimating the value of things by comparison with a -theoretic standard. Perfect culture should supply a complete theory of -life, based upon a clear knowledge alike of its possibilities and of -its limitations. - -But we may agree to all this, and yet strongly dissent from the -assumption that literature alone is competent to supply this knowledge. -After having learnt all that Greek, Roman, and Eastern antiquity have -thought and said, and all that modern literatures have to tell us, it -is not self-evident that we have laid a sufficiently broad and deep -foundation for that criticism of life which constitutes culture. - -Indeed, to any one acquainted with the scope of physical science, it is -not at all evident. Considering progress only in the “intellectual and -spiritual sphere,” I find myself wholly unable to admit that either -nations or individuals will really advance, if their common outfit -draws nothing from the stores of physical science. I should say that -an army, without weapons of precision and with no particular base of -operations, might more hopefully enter upon a campaign on the Rhine, -than a man, devoid of a knowledge of what physical science has done in -the last century, upon a criticism of life. - - -When a biologist meets with an anomaly, he instinctively turns to the -study of development to clear it up. The rationale of contradictory -opinions may with equal confidence be sought in history. - -It is, happily, no new thing that Englishmen should employ their wealth -in building and endowing institutions for educational purposes. But, -five or six hundred years ago, deeds of foundation expressed or implied -conditions as nearly as possible contrary to those which have been -thought expedient by Sir Josiah Mason. That is to say, physical science -was practically ignored, while a certain literary training was enjoined -as a means to the acquirement of knowledge which was essentially -theological. - -The reason of this singular contradiction between the actions of men -alike animated by a strong and disinterested desire to promote the -welfare of their fellows, is easily discovered. - -At that time, in fact, if any one desired knowledge beyond such as -could be obtained by his own observation, or by common conversation, -his first necessity was to learn the Latin language, inasmuch as -all the higher knowledge of the western world was contained in works -written in that language. Hence, Latin grammar, with logic and -rhetoric, studied through Latin, were the fundamentals of education. -With respect to the substance of the knowledge imparted through this -channel, the Jewish and Christian Scriptures, as interpreted and -supplemented by the Romish Church, were held to contain a complete and -infallibly true body of information. - -Theological dicta were, to the thinkers of those days, that which -the axioms and definitions of Euclid are to the geometers of these. -The business of the philosophers of the middle ages was to deduce -from the data furnished by the theologians, conclusions in accordance -with ecclesiastical decrees. They were allowed the high privilege of -showing, by logical process, how and why that which the Church said -was true, must be true. And if their demonstrations fell short of or -exceeded this limit, the Church was maternally ready to check their -aberrations, if need be, by the help of the secular arm. - -Between the two, our ancestors were furnished with a compact and -complete criticism of life. They were told how the world began and -how it would end; they learned that all material existence was but a -base and insignificant blot upon the fair face of the spiritual world, -and that nature was, to all intents and purposes, the playground of -the devil; they learned that the earth is the centre of the visible -universe, and that man is the cynosure of things terrestrial; and more -especially was it inculcated that the course of nature had no fixed -order, but that it could be, and constantly was, altered by the agency -of innumerable spiritual beings, good and bad, according as they were -moved by the deeds and prayers of men. The sum and substance of the -whole doctrine was to produce the conviction that the only thing really -worth knowing in this world was how to secure that place in a better -which, under certain conditions, the Church promised. - -Our ancestors had a living belief in this theory of life, and acted -upon it in their dealings with education, as in all other matters. -Culture meant saintliness—after the fashion of the saints of those -days; the education that led to it was, of necessity, theological; and -the way to theology lay through Latin. - -That the study of nature—further than was requisite for the -satisfaction of everyday wants—should have any bearing on human life -was far from the thoughts of men thus trained. Indeed, as nature had -been cursed for man’s sake, it was an obvious conclusion that those who -meddled with nature were likely to come into pretty close contact with -Satan. And, if any born scientific investigator followed his instincts, -he might safely reckon upon earning the reputation, and probably upon -suffering the fate, of a sorcerer. - -Had the western world been left to itself in Chinese isolation, there -is no saying how long this state of things might have endured. But, -happily, it was not left to itself. Even earlier than the thirteenth -century, the development of Moorish civilisation in Spain and the -great movement of the Crusades had introduced the leaven which, from -that day to this, has never ceased to work. At first, through the -intermediation of Arabic translations, afterwards, by the study of the -originals, the western nations of Europe became acquainted with the -writings of the ancient philosophers and poets, and, in time, with the -whole of the vast literature of antiquity. - -Whatever there was of high intellectual aspiration or dominant -capacity in Italy, France, Germany, and England, spent itself for -centuries in taking possession of the rich inheritance left by the dead -civilisations of Greece and Rome. Marvellously aided by the invention -of printing, classical learning spread and flourished. Those who -possessed it prided themselves on having attained the highest culture -then within the reach of mankind. - -And justly. For, saving Dante on his solitary pinnacle, there was no -figure in modern literature at the time of the Renascence to compare -with the men of antiquity; there was no art to compete with their -sculpture; there was no physical science but that which Greece had -created. Above all, there was no other example of perfect intellectual -freedom—of the unhesitating acceptance of reason as the sole guide to -truth and the supreme arbiter of conduct. - -The new learning necessarily soon exerted a profound influence upon -education. The language of the monks and schoolmen seemed little better -than gibberish to scholars fresh from Virgil and Cicero, and the study -of Latin was placed upon a new foundation. Moreover, Latin itself -ceased to afford the sole key to knowledge. The student who sought the -highest thought of antiquity, found only a second-hand reflection of -it in Roman literature, and turned his face to the full light of the -Greeks. And after a battle, not altogether dissimilar to that which -is at present being fought over the teaching of physical science, the -study of Greek was recognised as an essential element of all higher -education. - -Thus the Humanists, as they were called, won the day; and the great -reform which they effected was of incalculable service to mankind. -But the Nemesis of all reformers is finality; and the reformers of -education, like those of religion, fell into the profound, however -common, error of mistaking the beginning for the end of the work of -reformation. - -The representatives of the Humanists, in the nineteenth century, take -their stand upon classical education as the sole avenue to culture, as -firmly as if we were still in the age of Renascence. Yet, surely, the -present intellectual relations of the modern and the ancient worlds are -profoundly different from those which obtained three centuries ago. -Leaving aside the existence of a great and characteristically modern -literature, of modern painting, and, especially, of modern music, -there is one feature of the present state of the civilised world which -separates it more widely from the Renascence, than the Renascence was -separated from the middle ages. - -This distinctive character of our own times lies in the vast and -constantly increasing part which is played by natural knowledge. Not -only is our daily life shaped by it, not only does the prosperity -of millions of men depend upon it, but our whole theory of life has -long been influenced, consciously or unconsciously, by the general -conceptions of the universe, which have been forced upon us by physical -science. - -In fact, the most elementary acquaintance with the results of -scientific investigation shows us that they offer a broad and striking -contradiction to the opinions so implicitly credited and taught in the -middle ages. - -The notions of the beginning and the end of the world entertained -by our forefathers are no longer credible. It is very certain that -the earth is not the chief body in the material universe, and that -the world is not subordinated to man’s use. It is even more certain -that nature is the expression of a definite order with which nothing -interferes, and that the chief business of mankind is to learn that -order and govern themselves accordingly. Moreover this scientific -“criticism of life” presents itself to us with different credentials -from any other. It appeals not to authority, nor to what anybody -may have thought or said, but to nature. It admits that all our -interpretations of natural fact are more or less imperfect and -symbolic, and bids the learner seek for truth not among words but among -things. It warns us that the assertion which outstrips evidence is not -only a blunder but a crime. - -The purely classical education advocated by the representatives of -the Humanists in our day, gives no inkling of all this. A man may be -a better scholar than Erasmus, and know no more of the chief causes -of the present intellectual fermentation than Erasmus did. Scholarly -and pious persons, worthy of all respect, favour us with allocutions -upon the sadness of the antagonism of science to their mediæval way -of thinking, which betray an ignorance of the first principles of -scientific investigation, an incapacity for understanding what a man -of science means by veracity, and an unconsciousness of the weight of -established scientific truths, which is almost comical. - -There is no great force in the _tu quoque_ argument, or else the -advocates of scientific education might fairly enough retort upon the -modern Humanists that they may be learned specialists, but that they -possess no such sound foundation for a criticism of life as deserves -the name of culture. And, indeed, if we were disposed to be cruel, -we might urge that the Humanists have brought this reproach upon -themselves, not because they are too full of the spirit of the ancient -Greek, but because they lack it. - -The period of the Renascence is commonly called that of the “Revival of -Letters,” as if the influences then brought to bear upon the mind of -Western Europe had been wholly exhausted in the field of literature. -I think it is very commonly forgotten that the revival of science, -effected by the same agency, although less conspicuous, was not less -momentous. - -In fact, the few and scattered students of nature of that day picked -up the clue to her secrets exactly as it fell from the hands of the -Greeks a thousand years before. The foundations of mathematics were so -well laid by them, that our children learn their geometry from a book -written for the schools of Alexandria two thousand years ago. Modern -astronomy is the natural continuation and development of the work of -Hipparchus and of Ptolemy; modern physics of that of Democritus and of -Archimedes; it was long before modern biological science outgrew the -knowledge bequeathed to us by Aristotle, by Theophrastus, and by Galen. - -We cannot know all the best thoughts and sayings of the Greeks unless -we know what they thought about natural phenomena. We cannot fully -apprehend their criticism of life unless we understand the extent -to which that criticism was affected by scientific conceptions. We -falsely pretend to be the inheritors of their culture, unless we are -penetrated, as the best minds among them were, with an unhesitating -faith that the free employment of reason, in accordance with scientific -method, is the sole method of reaching truth. - -Thus I venture to think that the pretensions of our modern Humanists -to the possession of the monopoly of culture and to the exclusive -inheritance of the spirit of antiquity must be abated, if not -abandoned. But I should be very sorry that anything I have said should -be taken to imply a desire on my part to depreciate the value of -classical education, as it might be and as it sometimes is. The native -capacities of mankind vary no less than their opportunities; and while -culture is one, the road by which one man may best reach it is widely -different from that which is most advantageous to another. Again, -while scientific education is yet inchoate and tentative, classical -education is thoroughly well organised upon the practical experience -of generations of teachers. So that, given ample time for learning and -destination for ordinary life, or for a literary career, I do not think -that a young Englishman in search of culture can do better than follow -the course usually marked out for him, supplementing its deficiencies -by his own efforts. - -But for those who mean to make science their serious occupation; or who -intend to follow the profession of medicine; or who have to enter early -upon the business of life; for all these, in my opinion, classical -education is a mistake; and it is for this reason that I am glad to see -“mere literary education and instruction” shut out from the curriculum -of Sir Josiah Mason’s College, seeing that its inclusion would probably -lead to the introduction of the ordinary smattering of Latin and Greek. - -Nevertheless, I am the last person to question the importance of -genuine literary education, or to suppose that intellectual culture can -be complete without it. An exclusively scientific training will bring -about a mental twist as surely as an exclusively literary training. The -value of the cargo does not compensate for a ship’s being out of trim; -and I should be very sorry to think that the Scientific College would -turn out none but lop-sided men. - -There is no need, however, that such a catastrophe should happen. -Instruction in English, French, and German is provided, and thus the -three greatest literatures of the modern world are made accessible to -the student. - -French and German, and especially the latter language, are absolutely -indispensable to those who desire full knowledge in any department -of science. But even supposing that the knowledge of these languages -acquired is not more than sufficient for purely scientific purposes, -every Englishman has, in his native tongue, an almost perfect -instrument of literary expression; and, in his own literature, models -of every kind of literary excellence. If an Englishman cannot get -literary culture out of his Bible, his Shakspeare, his Milton, neither, -in my belief, will the profoundest study of Homer and Sophocles, Virgil -and Horace, give it to him. - -Thus, since the constitution of the College makes sufficient provision -for literary as well as for scientific education, and since artistic -instruction is also contemplated, it seems to me that a fairly complete -culture is offered to all who are willing to take advantage of it. - - -But I am not sure that at this point the “practical” man, scotched but -not slain, may ask what all this talk about culture has to do with -an Institution, the object of which is defined to be “to promote the -prosperity of the manufactures and the industry of the country.” He -may suggest that what is wanted for this end is not culture, nor even -a purely scientific discipline, but simply a knowledge of applied -science. - -I often wish that this phrase, “applied science,” had never been -invented. For it suggests that there is a sort of scientific knowledge -of direct practical use, which can be studied apart from another sort -of scientific knowledge, which is of no practical utility, and which -is termed “pure science.” But there is no more complete fallacy than -this. What people call applied science is nothing but the application -of pure science to particular classes of problems. It consists of -deductions from those general principles, established by reasoning and -observation, which constitute pure science. No one can safely make -these deductions until he has a firm grasp of the principles; and he -can obtain that grasp only by personal experience of the operations of -observation and of reasoning on which they are founded. - -Almost all the processes employed in the arts and manufactures fall -within the range either of physics or of chemistry. In order to improve -them, one must thoroughly understand them; and no one has a chance -of really understanding them, unless he has obtained that mastery -of principles and that habit of dealing with facts, which is given -by long-continued and well-directed purely scientific training in -the physical and the chemical laboratory. So that there really is no -question as to the necessity of purely scientific discipline, even if -the work of the College were limited by the narrowest interpretation of -its stated aims. - -And, as to the desirableness of a wider culture than that yielded -by science alone, it is to be recollected that the improvement of -manufacturing processes is only one of the conditions which contribute -to the prosperity of industry. Industry is a means and not an end; and -mankind work only to get something which they want. What that something -is depends partly on their innate, and partly on their acquired, -desires. - -If the wealth resulting from prosperous industry is to be spent upon -the gratification of unworthy desires, if the increasing perfection -of manufacturing processes is to be accompanied by an increasing -debasement of those who carry them on, I do not see the good of -industry and prosperity. - -Now it is perfectly true that men’s views of what is desirable depend -upon their characters; and that the innate proclivities to which we -give that name are not touched by any amount of instruction. But it -does not follow that even mere intellectual education may not, to an -indefinite extent, modify the practical manifestation of the characters -of men in their actions, by supplying them with motives unknown to the -ignorant. A pleasure-loving character will have pleasure of some sort; -but, if you give him the choice, he may prefer pleasures which do not -degrade him to those which do. And this choice is offered to every man, -who possesses in literary or artistic culture a never-failing source of -pleasures, which are neither withered by age, nor staled by custom, nor -embittered in the recollection by the pangs of self-reproach. - -If the Institution opened to-day fulfils the intention of its founder, -the picked intelligences among all classes of the population of -this district will pass through it. No child born in Birmingham, -henceforward, if he have the capacity to profit by the opportunities -offered to him, first in the primary and other schools, and afterwards -in the Scientific College, need fail to obtain, not merely the -instruction, but the culture most appropriate to the conditions of his -life. - -Within these walls, the future employer and the future artisan may -sojourn together for a while, and carry, through all their lives, the -stamp of the influences then brought to bear upon them. Hence, it is -not beside the mark to remind you, that the prosperity of industry -depends not merely upon the improvement of manufacturing processes, -not merely upon the ennobling of the individual character, but upon a -third condition, namely, a clear understanding of the conditions of -social life on the part of both the capitalist and the operative, and -their agreement upon common principles of social action. They must -learn that social phenomena are as much the expression of natural laws -as any others; that no social arrangements can be permanent unless -they harmonise with the requirements of social statics and dynamics; -and that, in the nature of things, there is an arbiter whose decisions -execute themselves. - -But this knowledge is only to be obtained by the application of -the methods of investigation adopted in physical researches to the -investigation of the phenomena of society. Hence, I confess, I should -like to see one addition made to the excellent scheme of education -propounded for the College, in the shape of provision for the teaching -of Sociology. For though we are all agreed that party politics are to -have no place in the instruction of the College; yet in this country, -practically governed as it is now by universal suffrage, every man who -does his duty must exercise political functions. And, if the evils -which are inseparable from the good of political liberty are to be -checked, if the perpetual oscillation of nations between anarchy and -despotism is to be replaced by the steady march of self-restraining -freedom; it will be because men will gradually bring themselves to deal -with political, as they now deal with scientific questions; to be as -ashamed of undue haste and partisan prejudice in the one case as in -the other; and to believe that the machinery of society is at least -as delicate as that of a spinning-jenny, and as little likely to be -improved by the meddling of those who have not taken the trouble to -master the principles of its action. - - -In conclusion, I am sure that I make myself the mouthpiece of all -present in offering to the venerable founder of the Institution, -which now commences its beneficent career, our congratulations on the -completion of his work; and in expressing the conviction, that the -remotest posterity will point to it as a crucial instance of the wisdom -which natural piety leads all men to ascribe to their ancestors. - - - - -II. - -UNIVERSITIES: ACTUAL AND IDEAL. - - -Elected by the suffrages of your four Nations, Rector of the ancient -University of which you are scholars, I take the earliest opportunity -which has presented itself since my restoration to health, of -delivering the Address which, by long custom, is expected of the holder -of my office. - -My first duty in opening that Address, is to offer you my most hearty -thanks for the signal honour you have conferred upon me—an honour -of which, as a man unconnected with you by personal or by national -ties, devoid of political distinction, and a plebeian who stands by -his order, I could not have dreamed. And it was the more surprising -to me, as the five-and-twenty years which have passed over my head -since I reached intellectual manhood, have been largely spent in no -half-hearted advocacy of doctrines which have not yet found favour -in the eyes of Academic respectability; so that, when the proposal -to nominate me for your Rector came, I was almost as much astonished -as was Hal o’ the Wynd, “who fought for his own hand,” by the Black -Douglas’s proffer of knighthood. And I fear that my acceptance must be -taken as evidence that, less wise than the Armourer of Perth, I have -not yet done with soldiering. - -In fact, if, for a moment, I imagined that your intention was simply, -in the kindness of your hearts, to do me honour; and that the Rector of -your University, like that of some other Universities, was one of those -happy beings who sit in glory for three years, with nothing to do for -it save the making of a speech, a conversation with my distinguished -predecessor soon dispelled the dream. I found that, by the constitution -of the University of Aberdeen, the incumbent of the Rectorate is, if -not a power, at any rate a potential energy; and that, whatever may -be his chances of success or failure, it is his duty to convert that -potential energy into a living force, directed towards such ends as may -seem to him conducive to the welfare of the corporation of which he is -the theoretical head. - -I need not tell you that your late Lord Rector took this view of -his position, and acted upon it with the comprehensive, far-seeing -insight into the actual condition and tendencies, not merely of his -own, but of other countries, which is his honourable characteristic -among statesmen. I have already done my best, and, as long as I hold -my office, I shall continue my endeavours, to follow in the path which -he trod; to do what in me lies, to bring this University nearer to the -ideal—alas, that I should be obliged to say ideal—of all Universities; -which, as I conceive, should be places in which thought is free from -all fetters; and in which all sources of knowledge, and all aids to -learning, should be accessible to all comers, without distinction of -creed or country, riches or poverty. - -Do not suppose, however, that I am sanguine enough to expect much to -come of any poor efforts of mine. If your annals take any notice of my -incumbency, I shall probably go down to posterity as the Rector who was -always beaten. But if they add, as I think they will, that my defeats -became victories in the hands of my successors, I shall be well content. - - -The scenes are shifting in the great theatre of the world. The act -which commenced with the Protestant Reformation is nearly played -out, and a wider and a deeper change than that effected three -centuries ago—a reformation, or rather a revolution of thought, the -extremes of which are represented by the intellectual heirs of John -of Leyden and of Ignatius Loyola, rather than by those of Luther -and of Leo—is waiting to come on, nay, visible behind the scenes to -those who have good eyes. Men are beginning, once more, to awake to -the fact that matters of belief and of speculation are of absolutely -infinite practical importance; and are drawing off from that sunny -country “where it is always afternoon”—the sleepy hollow of broad -indifferentism—to range themselves under their natural banners. -Change is in the air. It is whirling feather-heads into all sorts of -eccentric orbits, and filling the steadiest with a sense of insecurity. -It insists on reopening all questions and asking all institutions, -however venerable, by what right they exist, and whether they are, or -are not, in harmony with the real or supposed wants of mankind. And -it is remarkable that these searching inquiries are not so much forced -on institutions from without, as developed from within. Consummate -scholars question the value of learning; priests condemn dogma; and -women turn their backs upon man’s ideal of perfect womanhood, and seek -satisfaction in apocalyptic visions of some, as yet unrealised, epicene -reality. - -If there be a type of stability in this world, one would be inclined -to look for it in the old Universities of England. But it has been my -business of late to hear a good deal about what is going on in these -famous corporations; and I have been filled with astonishment by the -evidences of internal fermentation which they exhibit. If Gibbon -could revisit the ancient seat of learning of which he has written so -cavalierly, assuredly he would no longer speak of “the monks of Oxford -sunk in prejudice and port.” There, as elsewhere, port has gone out -of fashion, and so has prejudice—at least that particular fine, old, -crusted sort of prejudice to which the great historian alludes. - -Indeed, things are moving so fast in Oxford and Cambridge, that, for my -part, I rejoiced when the Royal Commission, of which I am a member, had -finished and presented the Report which related to these Universities; -for we should have looked like mere plagiarists, if, in consequence -of a little longer delay in issuing it, all the measures of reform -we proposed had been anticipated by the spontaneous action of the -Universities themselves. - -A month ago I should have gone on to say that one might speedily -expect changes of another kind in Oxford and Cambridge. A Commission -has been inquiring into the revenues of the many wealthy societies, in -more or less direct connection with the Universities, resident in those -towns. It is said that the Commission has reported, and that, for the -first time in recorded history, the nation, and perhaps the Colleges -themselves, will know what they are worth. And it was announced that a -statesman, who, whatever his other merits or defects, has aims above -the level of mere party fighting, and a clear vision into the most -complex practical problems, meant to deal with these revenues. - -But, _Bos locutus est._ That mysterious independent variable of -political calculation, Public Opinion—which some whisper is, in the -present case, very much the same thing as publican’s opinion—has willed -otherwise. The Heads may return to their wonted slumbers—at any rate -for a space. - -Is the spirit of change, which is working thus vigorously in the South, -likely to affect the Northern Universities, and if so, to what extent? -The violence of fermentation depends, not so much on the quantity of -the yeast, as on the composition of the wort, and its richness in -fermentable material; and, as a preliminary to the discussion of this -question, I venture to call to your minds the essential and fundamental -differences between the Scottish and the English type of University. - -Do not charge me with anything worse than official egotism, if I say -that these differences appear to be largely symbolised by my own -existence. There is no Rector in an English University. Now, the -organisation of the members of an University into Nations, with their -elective Rector, is the last relic of the primitive constitution of -Universities. The Rectorate was the most important of all offices in -that University of Paris, upon the model of which the University of -Aberdeen was fashioned; and which was certainly a great and flourishing -institution in the twelfth century. - -Enthusiasts for the antiquity of one of the two acknowledged parents -of all Universities, indeed, do not hesitate to trace the origin of -the “Studium Parisiense” up to that wonderful king of the Franks and -Lombards, Karl, surnamed the Great, whom we all called Charlemagne, and -believed to be a Frenchman, until a learned historian, by beneficent -iteration, taught us better. Karl is said not to have been much of a -scholar himself, but he had the wisdom of which knowledge is only the -servitor. And that wisdom enabled him to see that ignorance is one of -the roots of all evil. - -In the Capitulary which enjoins the foundation of monasterial and -cathedral schools, he says: “Right action is better than knowledge; -but in order to do what is right, we must know what is right.”[4] An -irrefragable truth, I fancy. Acting upon it, the king took pretty full -compulsory powers, and carried into effect a really considerable and -effectual scheme of elementary education through the length and breadth -of his dominions. - -No doubt the idolaters out by the Elbe, in what is now part of Prussia, -objected to the Frankish king’s measures; no doubt the priests, who had -never hesitated about sacrificing all unbelievers in their fantastic -deities and futile conjurations, were the loudest in chanting the -virtues of toleration; no doubt they denounced as a cruel persecutor -the man who would not allow them, however sincere they might be, to go -on spreading delusions which debased the intellect, as much as they -deadened the moral sense, and undermined the bonds of civil allegiance; -no doubt, if they had lived in these times, they would have been able -to show, with ease, that the king’s proceedings were totally contrary -to the best liberal principles. But it may be said, in justification of -the Teutonic ruler, first, that he was born before those principles, -and did not suspect that the best way of getting disorder into order -was to let it alone; and, secondly, that his rough and questionable -proceedings did, more or less, bring about the end he had in view. For, -in a couple of centuries, the schools he sowed broadcast produced their -crop of men, thirsting for knowledge and craving for culture. Such men -gravitating towards Paris, as a light amidst the darkness of evil days, -from Germany, from Spain, from Britain, and from Scandinavia, came -together by natural affinity. By degrees they banded themselves into a -society, which, as its end was the knowledge of all things knowable, -called itself a “_Studium Generale_;” and when it had grown into a -recognised corporation, acquired the name of “_Universitas Studii -Generalis_,” which, mark you, means not a “Useful Knowledge Society,” -but a “Knowledge-of-things-in-general Society.” - -And thus the first “University,” at any rate on this side of the Alps, -came into being. Originally it had but one Faculty, that of Arts. Its -aim was to be a centre of knowledge and culture; not to be, in any -sense, a technical school. - -The scholars seem to have studied Grammar, Logic, and Rhetoric; -Arithmetic and Geometry; Astronomy; Theology; and Music. Thus, their -work, however imperfect and faulty, judged by modern lights, it may -have been, brought them face to face with all the leading aspects of -the many-sided mind of man. For these studies did really contain, at -any rate in embryo—sometimes, it may be, in caricature—what we now call -Philosophy, Mathematical and Physical Science, and Art. And I doubt if -the curriculum of any modern University shows so clear and generous -a comprehension of what is meant by culture, as this old Trivium and -Quadrivium does. - -The students who had passed through the University course, and had -proved themselves competent to teach, became masters and teachers of -their younger brethren. Whence the distinction of Masters and Regents -on the one hand, and Scholars on the other. - -Rapid growth necessitated organisation. The Masters and Scholars of -various tongues and countries grouped themselves into four Nations; and -the Nations, by their own votes at first, and subsequently by those -of their Procurators, or representatives, elected their supreme head -and governor, the Rector—at that time the sole representative of the -University, and a very real power, who could defy Provosts interfering -from without; or could inflict even corporal punishment on disobedient -members within the University. - -Such was the primitive constitution of the University of Paris. It is -in reference to this original state of things that I have spoken of the -Rectorate, and all that appertains to it, as the sole relic of that -constitution. - -But this original organisation did not last long. Society was not -then, any more than it is now, patient of culture, as such. It says to -everything, “Be useful to me, or away with you.” And to the learned, -the unlearned man said then, as he does now, “What is the use of all -your learning, unless you can tell me what I want to know? I am here -blindly groping about, and constantly damaging myself by collision -with three mighty powers, the power of the invisible God, the power -of my fellow Man, and the power of brute Nature. Let your learning -be turned to the study of these powers, that I may know how I am to -comport myself with regard to them.” In answer to this demand, some -of the Masters of the Faculty of Arts devoted themselves to the study -of Theology, some to that of Law, and some to that of Medicine; and -they became Doctors—men learned in those technical, or, as we now call -them, professional, branches of knowledge. Like cleaving to like, the -Doctors formed schools, or Faculties, of Theology, Law, and Medicine, -which sometimes assumed airs of superiority over their parent, the -Faculty of Arts, though the latter always asserted and maintained its -fundamental supremacy. - -The Faculties arose by process of natural differentiation out of the -primitive University. Other constituents, foreign to its nature, -were speedily grafted upon it. One of these extraneous elements was -forced into it by the Roman Church, which in those days asserted with -effect, that which it now asserts, happily without any effect in these -realms, its right of censorship and control over all teaching. The -local habitation of the University lay partly in the lands attached to -the monastery of S. Geneviève, partly in the diocese of the Bishop of -Paris; and he who would teach must have the licence of the Abbot, or of -the Bishop, as the nearest representative of the Pope, so to do, which -licence was granted by the Chancellors of these Ecclesiastics. - -Thus, if I am what archæologists call a “survival” of the primitive -head and ruler of the University, your Chancellor stands in the same -relation to the Papacy; and, with all respect for his Grace, I think -I may say that we both look terribly shrunken when compared with our -great originals. - -Not so is it with a second foreign element, which silently dropped -into the soil of Universities, like the grain of mustard-seed in the -parable; and, like that grain, grew into a tree, in whose branches -a whole aviary of fowls took shelter. That element is the element -of Endowment. It differed from the preceding, in its original design -to serve as a prop to the young plant, not to be a parasite upon it. -The charitable and the humane, blessed with wealth, were very early -penetrated by the misery of the poor student. And the wise saw that -intellectual ability is not so common or so unimportant a gift that it -should be allowed to run to waste upon mere handicrafts and chares. -The man who was a blessing to his contemporaries, but who so often has -been converted into a curse, by the blind adherence of his posterity -to the letter, rather than to the spirit, of his wishes—I mean the -“pious founder”—gave money and lands, that the student, who was rich in -brain and poor in all else, might be taken from the plough or from the -stithy, and enabled to devote himself to the higher service of mankind; -and built colleges and halls in which he might be not only housed and -fed, but taught. - -The Colleges were very generally placed in strict subordination to the -University by their founders; but, in many cases, their endowment, -consisting of land, has undergone an “unearned increment,” which has -given these societies a continually increasing weight and importance -as against the unendowed, or fixedly endowed, University. In Pharaoh’s -dream, the seven lean kine eat up the seven fat ones. In the reality of -historical fact, the fat Colleges have eaten up the lean Universities. - -Even here in Aberdeen, though the causes at work may have been -somewhat different, the effects have been similar; and you see how -much more substantial an entity is the Very Reverend the Principal, -analogue, if not homologue, of the Principals of King’s College, than -the Rector, lineal representative of the ancient monarchs of the -University, though now, little more than a “king of shreds and patches.” - -Do not suppose that, in thus briefly tracing the process of University -metamorphosis, I have had any intention of quarrelling with its -results. Practically, it seems to me that the broad changes effected in -1858 have given the Scottish Universities a very liberal constitution, -with as much real approximation to the primitive state of things as -is at all desirable. If your fat kine have eaten the lean, they have -not lain down to chew the cud ever since. The Scottish Universities, -like the English, have diverged widely enough from their primitive -model; but I cannot help thinking that the northern form has remained -more faithful to its original, not only in constitution, but, what is -more to the purpose, in view of the cry for change, in the practical -application of the endowments connected with it. - -In Aberdeen, these endowments are numerous, but so small that, taken -altogether, they are not equal to the revenue of a single third-rate -English college. They are scholarships, not fellowships; aids to -do work—not rewards for such work as it lies within the reach of -an ordinary, or even an extraordinary, young man to do. You do not -think that passing a respectable examination is a fair equivalent -for an income, such as many a gray-headed veteran, or clergyman, -would envy; and which is larger than the endowment of many Regius -chairs. You do not care to make your University a school of manners -for the rich; of sports for the athletic; or a hot-bed of high-fed, -hypercritical refinement, more destructive to vigour and originality -than are starvation and oppression. No; your little Bursaries of ten -and twenty (I believe even fifty) pounds a year, enable any boy who -has shown ability in the course of his education in those remarkable -primary schools, which have made Scotland the power she is, to obtain -the highest culture the country can give him; and when he is armed and -equipped, his Spartan Alma Mater tells him that, so far, he has had his -wages for his work, and that he may go and earn the rest. - -When I think of the host of pleasant, monied, well-bred young -gentlemen, who do a little learning and much boating by Cam and Isis, -the vision is a pleasant one; and, as a patriot, I rejoice that the -youth of the upper and richer classes of the nation receive a wholesome -and a manly training, however small may be the modicum of knowledge -they gather, in the intervals of this, their serious business. I admit, -to the full, the social and political value of that training. But, when -I proceed to consider that these young men may be said to represent -the great bulk of what the Colleges have to show for their enormous -wealth, plus, at least, a hundred and fifty pounds a year apiece which -each undergraduate costs his parents or guardians, I feel inclined -to ask, whether the rate-in-aid of the education of the wealthy and -professional classes, thus levied on the resources of the community, -is not, after all, a little heavy? And, still further, I am tempted -to inquire what has become of the indigent scholars, the sons of the -masses of the people whose daily labour just suffices to meet their -daily wants, for whose benefit these rich foundations were largely, -if not mainly, instituted? It seems as if Pharaoh’s dream had been -rigorously carried out, and that even the fat scholar has eaten the -lean one. And when I turn from this picture to the no less real vision -of many a brave and frugal Scotch boy, spending his summer in hard -manual labour, that he may have the privilege of wending his way in -autumn to this University, with a bag of oatmeal, ten pounds in his -pocket, and his own stout heart to depend upon through the northern -winter; not bent on seeking - - “The bubble reputation at the cannon’s mouth,” - -but determined to wring knowledge from the hard hands of penury; when -I see him win through all such outward obstacles to positions of wide -usefulness and well-earned fame; I cannot but think that, in essence, -Aberdeen has departed but little from the primitive intention of the -founders of Universities, and that the spirit of reform has so much to -do on the other side of the Border, that it may be long before he has -leisure to look this way. - -As compared with other actual Universities, then, Aberdeen, may, -perhaps, be well satisfied with itself. But do not think me an -impracticable dreamer, if I ask you not to rest and be thankful in -this state of satisfaction; if I ask you to consider awhile, how this -actual good stands related to that ideal better, towards which both men -and institutions must progress, if they would not retrograde. - -In an ideal University, as I conceive it, a man should be able to -obtain instruction in all forms of knowledge, and discipline in the -use of all the methods by which knowledge is obtained. In such an -University, the force of living example should fire the student with a -noble ambition to emulate the learning of learned men, and to follow -in the footsteps of the explorers of new fields of knowledge. And the -very air he breathes should be charged with that enthusiasm for truth, -that fanaticism of veracity, which is a greater possession than much -learning; a nobler gift than the power of increasing knowledge; by -so much greater and nobler than these, as the moral nature of man is -greater than the intellectual; for veracity is the heart of morality. - -But the man who is all morality and intellect, although he may be good -and even great, is, after all, only half a man. There is beauty in the -moral world and in the intellectual world; but there is also a beauty -which is neither moral nor intellectual—the beauty of the world of Art. -There are men who are devoid of the power of seeing it, as there are -men who are born deaf and blind, and the loss of those, as of these, -is simply infinite. There are others in whom it is an overpowering -passion; happy men, born with the productive, or at lowest, the -appreciative, genius of the Artist. But, in the mass of mankind, -the Æsthetic faculty, like the reasoning power and the moral sense, -needs to be roused, directed, and cultivated; and I know not why the -development of that side of his nature, through which man has access to -a perennial spring of ennobling pleasure, should be omitted from any -comprehensive scheme of University education. - -All Universities recognise Literature in the sense of the old Rhetoric, -which is art incarnate in words. Some, to their credit, recognise Art -in its narrower sense, to a certain extent, and confer degrees for -proficiency in some of its branches. If there are Doctors of Music, why -should there be no Masters of Painting, of Sculpture, of Architecture? -I should like to see Professors of the Fine Arts in every University; -and instruction in some branch of their work made a part of the Arts -curriculum. - -I just now expressed the opinion that, in our ideal University, a man -should be able to obtain instruction in all forms of knowledge. Now, by -“forms of knowledge” I mean the great classes of things knowable; of -which the first, in logical, though not in natural, order is knowledge -relating to the scope and limits of the mental faculties of man; a form -of knowledge which, in its positive aspect, answers pretty much to -Logic and part of Psychology, while, on its negative and critical side, -it corresponds with Metaphysics. - -A second class comprehends all that knowledge which relates to -man’s welfare, so far as it is determined by his own acts, or what -we call his conduct. It answers to Moral and Religious philosophy. -Practically, it is the most directly valuable of all forms of -knowledge, but speculatively, it is limited and criticised by that -which precedes and by that which follows it in my order of enumeration. - -A third class embraces knowledge of the phenomena of the Universe, as -that which lies about the individual man: and of the rules which those -phenomena are observed to follow in the order of their occurrence, -which we term the laws of Nature. - -This is what ought to be called Natural Science, or Physiology, though -those terms are hopelessly diverted from such a meaning; and it -includes all exact knowledge of natural fact, whether Mathematical, -Physical, Biological, or Social. - -Kant has said that the ultimate object of all knowledge is to give -replies to these three questions: What can I do? What ought I to do? -What may I hope for? The forms of knowledge which I have enumerated, -should furnish such replies as are within human reach, to the first -and second of these questions. While to the third, perhaps the wisest -answer is, “Do what you can to do what you ought, and leave hoping and -fearing alone.” - -If this be a just and an exhaustive classification of the forms of -knowledge, no question as to their relative importance, or as to the -superiority of one to the other, can be seriously raised. - -On the face of the matter, it is absurd to ask whether it is more -important to know the limits of one’s powers; or the ends for which -they ought to be exerted; or the conditions under which they must be -exerted. One may as well inquire which of the terms of a Rule of Three -sum one ought to know, in order to get a trustworthy result. Practical -life is such a sum, in which your duty multiplied into your capacity, -and divided by your circumstances, gives you the fourth term in the -proportion, which is your deserts, with great accuracy. All agree, I -take it, that men ought to have these three kinds of knowledge. The -so-called “conflict of studies” turns upon the question of how they may -best be obtained. - -The founders of Universities held the theory that the Scriptures and -Aristotle taken together, the latter being limited by the former, -contained all knowledge worth having, and that the business of -philosophy was to interpret and co-ordinate these two. I imagine -that in the twelfth century this was a very fair conclusion from -known facts. Nowhere in the world, in those days, was there such an -encyclopædia of knowledge of all three classes, as is to be found in -those writings. The scholastic philosophy is a wonderful monument of -the patience and ingenuity with which the human mind toiled to build up -a logically consistent theory of the Universe, out of such materials. -And that philosophy is by no means dead and buried, as many vainly -suppose. On the contrary, numbers of men of no mean learning and -accomplishment, and sometimes of rare power and subtlety of thought, -hold by it as the best theory of things which has yet been stated. And, -what is still more remarkable, men who speak the language of modern -philosophy, nevertheless think the thoughts of the schoolmen. “The -voice is the voice of Jacob, but the hands are the hands of Esau.” -Every day I hear “Cause,” “Law,” “Force,” “Vitality,” spoken of as -entities, by people who can enjoy Swift’s joke about the meat-roasting -quality of the smoke-jack, and comfort themselves with the reflection -that they are not even as those benighted schoolmen. - -Well, this great system had its day, and then it was sapped and mined -by two influences. The first was the study of classical literature, -which familiarised men with methods of philosophising; with conceptions -of the highest Good; with ideas of the order of Nature; with notions of -Literary and Historical Criticism; and, above all, with visions of Art, -of a kind which not only would not fit into the scholastic scheme, but -showed them a pre-Christian, and indeed altogether un-Christian world, -of such grandeur and beauty that they ceased to think of any other. -They were as men who had kissed the Fairy Queen, and wandering with her -in the dim loveliness of the underworld, cared not to return to the -familiar ways of home and fatherland, though they lay, at arm’s length, -overhead. Cardinals were more familiar with Virgil than with Isaiah; -and Popes laboured, with great success, to re-paganise Rome. - -The second influence was the slow, but sure, growth of the physical -sciences. It was discovered that some results of speculative thought, -of immense practical and theoretical importance, can be verified by -observation; and are always true, however severely they may be tested. -Here, at any rate, was knowledge, to the certainty of which no -authority could add, or take away, one jot or tittle, and to which the -tradition of a thousand years was as insignificant as the hearsay of -yesterday. To the scholastic system, the study of classical literature -might be inconvenient and distracting, but it was possible to hope that -it could be kept within bounds. Physical science, on the other hand, -was an irreconcilable enemy, to be excluded at all hazards. The College -of Cardinals has not distinguished itself in Physics or Physiology; and -no Pope has, as yet, set up public laboratories in the Vatican. - -People do not always formulate the beliefs on which they act. The -instinct of fear and dislike is quicker than the reasoning process; -and I suspect that, taken in conjunction with some other causes, such -instinctive aversion is at the bottom of the long exclusion of any -serious discipline in the physical sciences from the general curriculum -of Universities; while, on the other hand, classical literature has -been gradually made the backbone of the Arts course. - -I am ashamed to repeat here what I have said elsewhere, in season -and out of season, respecting the value of Science as knowledge and -discipline. But the other day I met with some passages in the Address -to another Scottish University, of a great thinker, recently lost to -us, which express so fully, and yet so tersely, the truth in this -matter, that I am fain to quote them:— - -“To question all things;—never to turn away from any difficulty; -to accept no doctrine either from ourselves or from other people -without a rigid scrutiny by negative criticism; letting no fallacy, -or incoherence, or confusion of thought step by unperceived; above -all, to insist upon having the meaning of a word clearly understood -before using it, and the meaning of a proposition before assenting -to it;—these are the lessons we learn” from workers in Science. -“With all this vigorous management of the negative element, they -inspire no scepticism about the reality of truth or indifference to -its pursuit. The noblest enthusiasm, both for the search after truth -and for applying it to its highest uses, pervades those writers.” -“In cultivating, therefore,” science as an essential ingredient in -education, “we are all the while laying an admirable foundation for -ethical and philosophical culture.”[5] - -The passages I have quoted were uttered by John Stuart Mill; but you -cannot hear inverted commas, and it is therefore right that I should -add, without delay, that I have taken the liberty of substituting -“workers in science” for “ancient dialecticians,” and “Science as an -essential ingredient in education” for “the ancient languages as our -best literary education.” Mill did, in fact, deliver a noble panegyric -upon classical studies. I do not doubt its justice, nor presume to -question its wisdom. But I venture to maintain that no wise or just -judge, who has a knowledge of the facts, will hesitate to say that it -applies with equal force to scientific training. - -But it is only fair to the Scottish Universities to point out that -they have long understood the value of Science as a branch of general -education. I observe, with the greatest satisfaction, that candidates -for the degree of Master of Arts in this University are required to -have a knowledge, not only of Mental and Moral Philosophy, and of -Mathematics and Natural Philosophy, but of Natural History, in addition -to the ordinary Latin and Greek course; and that a candidate may take -honours in these subjects and in Chemistry. - -I do not know what the requirements of your examiners may be, but I -sincerely trust they are not satisfied with a mere book knowledge of -these matters. For my own part, I would not raise a finger, if I could -thereby introduce mere book work in science into every Arts curriculum -in the country. Let those who want to study books devote themselves -to Literature, in which we have the perfection of books, both as to -substance and as to form. If I may paraphrase Hobbes’s well-known -aphorism, I would say that “books are the money of Literature, but only -the counters of Science,” Science (in the sense in which I now use the -term) being the knowledge of fact, of which every verbal description -is but an incomplete and symbolic expression. And be assured that no -teaching of science is worth anything, as a mental discipline, which is -not based upon direct perception of the facts, and practical exercise -of the observing and logical faculties upon them. Even in such a simple -matter as the mere comprehension of form, ask the most practised and -widely informed anatomist what is the difference between his knowledge -of a structure which he has read about, and his knowledge of the same -structure when he has seen it for himself; and he will tell you that -the two things are not comparable—the difference is infinite. Thus I -am very strongly inclined to agree with some learned school-masters -who say that, in their experience, the teaching of science is all -waste time. As they teach it, I have no doubt it is. But to teach it -otherwise, requires an amount of personal labour and a development of -means and appliances, which must strike horror and dismay into a man -accustomed to mere book work; and who has been in the habit of teaching -a class of fifty without much strain upon his energies. And this is one -of the real difficulties in the way of the introduction of physical -science into the ordinary University course, to which I have alluded. -It is a difficulty which will not be overcome, until years of patient -study have organised scientific teaching as well as, or I hope better -than, classical teaching has been organised hitherto. - -A little while ago, I ventured to hint a doubt as to the perfection -of some of the arrangements in the ancient Universities of England; -but, in their provision for giving instruction in Science as such, -and without direct reference to any of its practical applications, -they have set a brilliant example. Within the last twenty years, -Oxford alone has sunk more than a hundred and twenty thousand pounds -in building and furnishing Physical, Chemical, and Physiological -Laboratories, and a magnificent Museum, arranged with an almost -luxurious regard for the needs of the student. Cambridge, less rich, -but aided by the munificence of her Chancellor, is taking the same -course; and, in a few years, it will be for no lack of the means and -appliances of sound teaching, if the mass of English University men -remain in their present state of barbarous ignorance of even the -rudiments of scientific culture. - -Yet another step needs to be made before Science can be said to have -taken its proper place in the Universities. That is its recognition -as a Faculty, or branch of study demanding recognition and special -organisation, on account of its bearing on the wants of mankind. The -Faculties of Theology, Law, and Medicine, are technical schools, -intended to equip men who have received general culture, with the -special knowledge which is needed for the proper performance of the -duties of clergymen, lawyers, and medical practitioners. - -When the material well-being of the country depended upon rude pasture -and agriculture, and still ruder mining; in the days when all the -innumerable applications of the principles of physical science to -practical purposes were non-existent even as dreams; days which men -living may have heard their fathers speak of; what little physical -science could be seen to bear directly upon human life, lay within the -province of Medicine. Medicine was the foster-mother of Chemistry, -because it has to do with the preparation of drugs and the detection -of poisons; of Botany, because it enabled the physician to recognise -medicinal herbs; of Comparative Anatomy and Physiology, because the man -who studied Human Anatomy and Physiology for purely medical purposes -was led to extend his studies to the rest of the animal world. - -Within my recollection, the only way in which a student could obtain -anything like a training in Physical Science, was by attending the -lectures of the Professors of Physical and Natural Science attached to -the Medical Schools. But, in the course of the last thirty years, both -foster-mother and child have grown so big, that they threaten not only -to crush one another, but to press the very life out of the unhappy -student who enters the nursery; to the great detriment of all three. - -I speak in the presence of those who know practically what medical -education is; for I may assume that a large proportion of my hearers -are more or less advanced students of medicine. I appeal to the most -industrious and conscientious among you, to those who are most deeply -penetrated with a sense of the extremely serious responsibilities which -attach to the calling of a medical practitioner, when I ask whether, -out of the four years which you devote to your studies, you ought to -spare even so much as an hour for any work which does not tend directly -to fit you for your duties? - -Consider what that work is. Its foundation is a sound and practical -acquaintance with the structure of the human organism, and with the -modes and conditions of its action in health. I say a sound and -practical acquaintance, to guard against the supposition that my -intention is to suggest that you ought all to be minute anatomists and -accomplished physiologists. The devotion of your whole four years to -Anatomy and Physiology alone, would be totally insufficient to attain -that end. What I mean is, the sort of practical, familiar, finger-end -knowledge which a watchmaker has of a watch, and which you expect that -craftsman, as an honest man, to have, when you entrust a watch that -goes badly, to him. It is a kind of knowledge which is to be acquired, -not in the lecture-room, nor in the library, but in the dissecting-room -and the laboratory. It is to be had, not by sharing your attention -between these and sundry other subjects, but by concentrating your -minds, week after week, and month after month, six or seven hours a -day, upon all the complexities of organ and function, until each of the -greater truths of anatomy and physiology has become an organic part of -your minds—until you would know them if you were roused and questioned -in the middle of the night, as a man knows the geography of his native -place and the daily life of his home. That is the sort of knowledge -which, once obtained, is a life-long possession. Other occupations may -fill your minds—it may grow dim, and seem to be forgotten—but there it -is, like the inscription on a battered and defaced coin, which comes -out when you warm it. - -If I had the power to remodel Medical Education, the first two years of -the medical curriculum should be devoted to nothing but such thorough -study of Anatomy and Physiology, with Physiological Chemistry and -Physics; the student should then pass a real, practical examination in -these subjects; and, having gone through that ordeal satisfactorily, -he should be troubled no more with them. His whole mind should then be -given with equal intentness, to Therapeutics, in its broadest sense, -to Practical Medicine and to Surgery, with instruction in Hygiene and -in Medical Jurisprudence; and of these subjects only—surely there are -enough of them—should he be required to show a knowledge in his final -examination. - -I cannot claim any special property in this theory of what the medical -curriculum should be, for I find that views, more or less closely -approximating these, are held by all who have seriously considered the -very grave and pressing question of Medical Reform; and have, indeed, -been carried into practice, to some extent, by the most enlightened -Examining Boards. I have heard but two kinds of objections to them. -There is, first, the objection of vested interests, which I will not -deal with here, because I want to make myself as pleasant as I can, and -no discussions are so unpleasant as those which turn on such points. -And there is, secondly, the much more respectable objection, which -takes the general form of the reproach that, in thus limiting the -curriculum, we are seeking to narrow it. We are told that the medical -man ought to be a person of good education and general information, -if his profession is to hold its own among other professions; that -he ought to know Botany, or else, if he goes abroad, he will not be -able to tell poisonous fruits from edible ones; that he ought to -know drugs, as a druggist knows them, or he will not be able to tell -sham bark and senna from the real articles; that he ought to know -Zoology, because—well, I really have never been able to learn exactly -why he is to be expected to know zoology. There is, indeed, a popular -superstition, that doctors know all about things that are queer or -nasty to the general mind, and may, therefore, be reasonably expected -to know the “barbarous binomials” applicable to snakes, snails, and -slugs; an amount of information with which the general mind is usually -completely satisfied. And there is a scientific superstition that -Physiology is largely aided by Comparative Anatomy—a superstition -which, like most superstitions, once had a grain of truth at bottom; -but the grain has become homœopathic, since Physiology took its modern -experimental development, and became what it is now, the application -of the principles of Physics and Chemistry to the elucidation of the -phenomena of life. - -I hold as strongly as any one can do, that the medical practitioner -ought to be a person of education and good general culture; but I -also hold by the old theory of a Faculty, that a man should have his -general culture before he devotes himself to the special studies of -that Faculty; and I venture to maintain, that, if the general culture -obtained in the Faculty of Arts were what it ought to be, the student -would have quite as much knowledge of the fundamental principles of -Physics, of Chemistry, and of Biology, as he needs, before he commenced -his special medical studies. - -Moreover, I would urge, that a thorough study of Human Physiology is, -in itself, an education broader and more comprehensive than much that -passes under that name. There is no side of the intellect which it does -not call into play, no region of human knowledge into which either its -roots, or its branches, do not extend; like the Atlantic between the -Old and the New Worlds, its waves wash the shores of the two worlds -of matter and of mind; its tributary streams flow from both; through -its waters, as yet unfurrowed by the keel of any Columbus, lies the -road, if such there be, from the one to the other; far away from that -North-west Passage of mere speculation, in which so many brave souls -have been hopelessly frozen up. - -But whether I am right or wrong about all this, the patent fact of the -limitation of time remains. As the song runs:— - - “If a man could be sure - That his life would endure - For the space of a thousand long years——” - -he might do a number of things not practicable under present -conditions. Methuselah might, with much propriety, have taken half a -century to get his doctor’s degree; and might, very fairly, have been -required to pass a practical examination upon the contents of the -British Museum, before commencing practice as a promising young fellow -of two hundred, or thereabouts. But you have four years to do your -work in, and are turned loose, to save or slay, at two or three and -twenty. - -Now, I put it to you, whether you think that, when you come down to -the realities of life—when you stand by the sick-bed, racking your -brains for the principles which shall furnish you with the means of -interpreting symptoms, and forming a rational theory of the condition -of your patient, it will be satisfactory for you to find that those -principles are not there—although, to use the examination slang which -is unfortunately too familiar to me, you can quite easily “give -an account of the leading peculiarities of the _Marsupialia_,” or -“enumerate the chief characters of the _Compositæ_,” or “state the -class and order of the animal from which Castoreum is obtained.” - -I really do not think that state of things will be satisfactory -to you; I am very sure it will not be so to your patient. Indeed, -I am so narrow-minded myself, that if I had to choose between two -physicians—one who did not know whether a whale is a fish or not, and -could not tell gentian from ginger, but did understand the applications -of the institutes of medicine to his art; while the other, like -Talleyrand’s doctor, “knew everything, even a little physic”—with all -my love for breadth of culture, I should assuredly consult the former. - -It is not pleasant to incur the suspicion of an inclination to injure -or depreciate particular branches of knowledge. But the fact that -one of those which I should have no hesitation in excluding from the -medical curriculum, is that to which my own life has been specially -devoted, should, at any rate, defend me from the suspicion of being -urged to this course by any but the very gravest considerations of the -public welfare. - -And I should like, further, to call your attention to the important -circumstance that, in thus proposing the exclusion of the study of such -branches of knowledge as Zoology and Botany, from those compulsory upon -the medical student, I am not, for a moment, suggesting their exclusion -from the University. I think that sound and practical instruction in -the elementary facts and broad principles of Biology should form part -of the Arts Curriculum: and here, happily, my theory is in entire -accordance with your practice. Moreover, as I have already said, I have -no sort of doubt that, in view of the relation of Physical Science -to the practical life of the present day, it has the same right as -Theology, Law, and Medicine, to a Faculty of its own in which men shall -be trained to be professional men of science. It may be doubted whether -Universities are the places for technical schools of Engineering, or -Applied Chemistry, or Agriculture. But there can surely be little -question, that instruction in the branches of Science which lie at the -foundation of these Arts, of a far more advanced and special character -than could, with any propriety, be included in the ordinary Arts -Curriculum, ought to be obtainable by means of a duly organised Faculty -of Science in every University. - -The establishment of such a Faculty would have the additional advantage -of providing, in some measure, for one of the greatest wants of our -time and country. I mean the proper support and encouragement of -original research. - -The other day, an emphatic friend of mine committed himself to the -opinion that, in England, it is better for a man’s worldly prospects -to be a drunkard, than to be smitten with the divine dipsomania of the -original investigator. I am inclined to think he was not far wrong. -And, be it observed, that the question is not, whether such a man shall -be able to make as much out of his abilities as his brother, of like -ability, who goes into Law, or Engineering, or Commerce; it is not a -question of “maintaining a due number of saddle horses,” as George -Eliot somewhere puts it—it is a question of living or starving. - -If a student of my own subject shows power and originality, I dare not -advise him to adopt a scientific career; for, supposing he is able to -maintain himself until he has attained distinction, I cannot give him -the assurance that any amount of proficiency in the Biological Sciences -will be convertible into, even the most modest, bread and cheese. -And I believe that the case is as bad, or perhaps worse, with other -branches of Science. In this respect Britain, whose immense wealth -and prosperity hang upon the thread of Applied Science, is far behind -France, and infinitely behind Germany. - -And the worst of it is, that it is very difficult to see one’s way to -any immediate remedy for this state of affairs which shall be free from -a tendency to become worse than the disease. - -Great schemes for the Endowment of Research have been proposed. It has -been suggested, that Laboratories for all branches of Physical Science, -provided with every apparatus needed by the investigator, shall be -established by the State: and shall be accessible, under due conditions -and regulations, to all properly qualified persons. I see no objection -to the principle of such a proposal. If it be legitimate to spend great -sums of money on public Libraries and public collections of Painting -and Sculpture, in aid of the man of letters, or the Artist, or for the -mere sake of affording pleasure to the general public, I apprehend that -it cannot be illegitimate to do as much for the promotion of scientific -investigation. To take the lowest ground, as a mere investment of -money, the latter is likely to be much more immediately profitable. To -my mind, the difficulty in the way of such schemes is not theoretical, -but practical. Given the laboratories, how are the investigators to be -maintained? What career is open to those who have been thus encouraged -to leave bread-winning pursuits? If they are to be provided for by -endowment, we come back to the College Fellowship system, the results -of which, for Literature, have not been so brilliant that one would -wish to see it extended to Science; unless some much better securities, -than at present exist, can be taken that it will foster real work. -You know that among the Bees, it depends on the kind of cell in which -the egg is deposited, and the quantity and quality of food which is -supplied to the grub, whether it shall turn out a busy little worker -or a big idle queen. And, in the human hive, the cells of the endowed -larvæ are always tending to enlarge, and their food to improve, until -we get queens, beautiful to behold, but which gather no honey and build -no comb. - -I do not say that these difficulties may not be overcome, but their -gravity is not to be lightly estimated. - -In the meanwhile, there is one step in the direction of the endowment -of research which is free from such objections. It is possible to place -the scientific inquirer in a position in which he shall have ample -leisure and opportunity for original work, and yet shall give a fair -and tangible equivalent for those privileges. The establishment of a -Faculty of Science in every University, implies that of a corresponding -number of Professorial chairs, the incumbents of which need not be -so burdened with teaching as to deprive them of ample leisure for -original work. I do not think that it is any impediment to an original -investigator to have to devote a moderate portion of his time to -lecturing, or superintending practical instruction. On the contrary, -I think it may be, and often is, a benefit to be obliged to take a -comprehensive survey of your subject; or to bring your results to a -point, and give them, as it were, a tangible objective existence. The -besetting sins of the investigator are two: the one is the desire to -put aside a subject, the general bearings of which he has mastered -himself, and pass on to something which has the attraction of novelty; -and the other, the desire for too much perfection, which leads him to - - “Add and alter many times, - Till all be ripe and rotten;” - -to spend the energies which should be reserved for action, in whitening -the decks and polishing the guns. - -The obligation to produce results for the instruction of others, seems -to me to be a more effectual check on these tendencies, than even the -love of usefulness or the ambition for fame. - -But supposing the Professorial forces of our University to be -duly organised, there remains an important question, relating -to the teaching power, to be considered. Is the Professorial -system—the system, I mean, of teaching in the lecture-room alone, -and leaving the student to find his own way when he is outside the -lecture-room—adequate to the wants of learners? In answering this -question, I confine myself to my own province, and I venture to -reply for Physical Science, assuredly and undoubtedly, No. As I have -already intimated, practical work in the Laboratory is absolutely -indispensable, and that practical work must be guided and superintended -by a sufficient staff of Demonstrators, who are for Science what Tutors -are for other branches of study. And there must be a good supply of -such Demonstrators. I doubt if the practical work of more than twenty -students can be properly superintended by one Demonstrator. If we -take the working day at six hours, that is less than twenty minutes -apiece—not a very large allowance of time for helping a dull man, for -correcting an inaccurate one, or even for making an intelligent student -clearly apprehend what he is about. And, no doubt, the supplying of -a proper amount of this tutorial, practical teaching, is a difficulty -in the way of giving proper instruction in Physical Science in such -Universities as that of Aberdeen, which are devoid of endowments; and, -unlike the English Universities, have no moral claim on the funds of -richly endowed bodies to supply their wants. - -Examination—thorough, searching examination—is an indispensable -accompaniment of teaching; but I am almost inclined to commit myself -to the very heterodox proposition that it is a necessary evil. I am a -very old Examiner, having, for some twenty years past, been occupied -with examinations on a considerable scale, of all sorts and conditions -of men, and women too,—from the boys and girls of elementary schools -to the candidates for Honours and Fellowships in the Universities. I -will not say that, in this case as in so many others, the adage, that -familiarity breeds contempt, holds good; but my admiration for the -existing system of examination and its products, does not wax warmer -as I see more of it. Examination, like fire, is a good servant, but a -bad master; and there seems to me to be some danger of its becoming our -master. I by no means stand alone in this opinion. Experienced friends -of mine do not hesitate to say that students whose career they watch, -appear to them to become deteriorated by the constant effort to pass -this or that examination, just as we hear of men’s brains becoming -affected by the daily necessity of catching a train. They work to pass, -not to know; and outraged Science takes her revenge. They do pass, -and they don’t know. I have passed sundry examinations in my time, not -without credit, and I confess I am ashamed to think how very little -real knowledge underlay the torrent of stuff which I was able to pour -out on paper. In fact, that which examination, as ordinarily conducted, -tests, is simply a man’s power of work under stimulus, and his capacity -for rapidly and clearly producing that which, for the time, he has got -into his mind. Now, these faculties are by no means to be despised. -They are of great value in practical life, and are the making of many -an advocate, and of many a so-called statesman. But in the pursuit of -truth, scientific or other, they count for very little, unless they are -supplemented by that long-continued, patient “intending of the mind,” -as Newton phrased it, which makes very little show in Examinations. I -imagine that an Examiner who knows his students personally, must not -unfrequently have found himself in the position of finding A’s paper -better than B’s, though his own judgment tells him, quite clearly, that -B is the man who has the larger share of genuine capacity. - -Again, there is a fallacy about Examiners. It is commonly supposed that -any one who knows a subject is competent to teach it; and no one seems -to doubt that any one who knows a subject is competent to examine in -it. I believe both these opinions to be serious mistakes: the latter, -perhaps, the more serious of the two. In the first place, I do not -believe that any one who is not, or has not been, a teacher is really -qualified to examine advanced students. And in the second place, -Examination is an Art, and a difficult one, which has to be learned -like all other arts. - -Beginners always set too difficult questions—partly because they are -afraid of being suspected of ignorance if they set easy ones, and -partly from not understanding their business. Suppose that you want to -test the relative physical strength of a score of young men. You do not -put a hundredweight down before them, and tell each to swing it round. -If you do, half of them won’t be able to lift it at all, and only one -or two will be able to perform the task. You must give them half a -hundredweight, and see how they manœuvre that, if you want to form any -estimate of the muscular strength of each. So, a practised Examiner -will seek for information respecting the mental vigour and training of -candidates from the way in which they deal with questions easy enough -to let reason, memory, and method have free play. - -No doubt, a great deal is to be done by the careful selection of -Examiners, and by the copious introduction of practical work, to -remove the evils inseparable from examination; but, under the best of -circumstances, I believe that examination will remain but an imperfect -test of knowledge, and a still more imperfect test of capacity, while -it tells next to nothing about a man’s power as an investigator. - -There is much to be said in favour of restricting the highest degrees -in each Faculty, to those who have shown evidence of such original -power, by prosecuting a research under the eye of the Professor in -whose province it lies; or, at any rate, under conditions which shall -afford satisfactory proof that the work is theirs. The notion may sound -revolutionary, but it is really very old; for, I take it, that it lies -at the bottom of that presentation of a thesis by the candidate for a -doctorate, which has now, too often, become little better than a matter -of form. - - -Thus far, I have endeavoured to lay before you, in a too brief and -imperfect manner, my views respecting the teaching half—the Magistri -and Regentes—of the University of the Future. Now let me turn to the -learning half—the Scholares. - -If the Universities are to be the sanctuaries of the highest culture of -the country, those who would enter that sanctuary, must not come with -unwashed hands. If the good seed is to yield its hundredfold harvest, -it must not be scattered amidst the stones of ignorance, or the tares -of undisciplined indolence and wantonness. On the contrary, the soil -must have been carefully prepared, and the Professor should find that -the operations of clod-crushing, draining, and weeding, and even a good -deal of planting, have been done by the Schoolmaster. - -That is exactly what the Professor does not find in any University in -the three Kingdoms that I can hear of—the reason of which state of -things lies in the extremely faulty organisation of the majority of -secondary Schools. Students come to the Universities ill-prepared in -classics and mathematics, not at all prepared in anything else; and -half their time is spent in learning that which they ought to have -known when they came. - -I sometimes hear it said that the Scottish Universities differ from -the English, in being to a much greater extent places of comparatively -elementary education for a younger class of students. But it would seem -doubtful if any great difference of this kind really exists; for a high -authority, himself Head of an English College, has solemnly affirmed -that: “Elementary teaching of youths under twenty is now the only -function performed by the University;” and that Colleges are “boarding -schools in which the elements of the learned languages are taught to -youths.”[6] - -This is not the first time that I have quoted those remarkable -assertions. I should like to engrave them in public view, for they -have not been refuted; and I am convinced that if their import is once -clearly apprehended, they will play no mean part when the question of -University reorganisation, with a view to practical measures, comes -on for discussion. You are not responsible for this anomalous state -of affairs now; but, as you pass into active life and acquire the -political influence to which your education and your position should -entitle you, you will become responsible for it, unless each in his -sphere does his best to alter it, by insisting on the improvement of -secondary Schools. - -Your present responsibility is of another, though not less serious, -kind. Institutions do not make men, any more than organisation makes -life; and even the ideal University we have been dreaming about will be -but a superior piece of mechanism, unless each student strive after the -ideal of the Scholar. And that ideal, it seems to me, has never been -better embodied than by the great Poet, who, though lapped in luxury, -the favourite of a Court, and the idol of his countrymen, remained -through all the length of his honoured years a Scholar in Art, in -Science, and in Life. - - “Would’st shape a noble life? Then cast - No backward glances towards the past: - And though somewhat be lost and gone, - Yet do thou act as one new-born. - What each day needs, that shalt thou ask; - Each day will set its proper task. - Give other’s work just share of praise; - Not of thine own the merits raise. - Beware no fellow man thou hate: - And so in God’s hands leave thy fate.”[7] - - - - -III. - -TECHNICAL EDUCATION. - - -Any candid observer of the phenomena of modern society will readily -admit that bores must be classed among the enemies of the human race; -and a little consideration will probably lead him to the further -admission, that no species of that extensive genus of noxious creatures -is more objectionable than the educational bore. Convinced as I am of -the truth of this great social generalisation, it is not without a -certain trepidation that I venture to address you on an educational -topic. For, in the course of the last ten years, to go back no farther, -I am afraid to say how often I have ventured to speak of education, -from that given in the primary schools to that which is to be had in -the universities and medical colleges; indeed, the only part of this -wide region into which, as yet, I have not adventured is that into -which I propose to intrude to-day. - -Thus, I cannot but be aware that I am dangerously near becoming the -thing which all men fear and fly. But I have deliberately elected to -run the risk. For when you did me the honour to ask me to address you, -an unexpected circumstance had led me to occupy myself seriously with -the question of technical education; and I had acquired the conviction -that there are few subjects respecting which it is more important for -all classes of the community to have clear and just ideas than this; -while, certainly, there is none which is more deserving of attention by -the Working Men’s Club and Institute Union. - -It is not for me to express an opinion whether the considerations, -which I am about to submit to you, will be proved by experience to be -just or not; but I will do my best to make them clear. Among the many -good things to be found in Lord Bacon’s works, none is more full of -wisdom than the saying that “truth more easily comes out of error than -out of confusion.” Clear and consecutive wrong-thinking is the next -best thing to right-thinking; so that, if I succeed in clearing your -ideas on this topic, I shall have wasted neither your time nor my own. - -“Technical education,” in the sense in which the term is ordinarily -used, and in which I am now employing it, means that sort of education -which is specially adapted to the needs of men whose business in -life it is to pursue some kind of handicraft; it is, in fact, a fine -Greco-Latin equivalent for what in good vernacular English would be -called “the teaching of handicrafts.” And probably, at this stage of -our progress, it may occur to many of you to think of the story of the -cobbler and his last, and to say to yourselves, though you will be too -polite to put the question openly to me, What does the speaker know -practically about this matter? What is his handicraft? I think the -question is a very proper one, and unless I were prepared to answer it, -I hope satisfactorily, I should have chosen some other theme. - -The fact is, I am, and have been, any time these thirty years, a man -who works with his hands—a handicraftsman. I do not say this in the -broadly metaphorical sense in which fine gentlemen, with all the -delicacy of Agag about them, trip to the hustings about election time, -and protest that they too are working men. I really mean my words to be -taken in their direct, literal, and straightforward sense. In fact, if -the most nimble-fingered watchmaker among you will come to my workshop, -he may set me to put a watch together, and I will set him to dissect, -say, a blackbeetle’s nerves. I do not wish to vaunt, but I am inclined -to think that I shall manage my job to his satisfaction sooner than he -will do his piece of work to mine. - -In truth, anatomy, which is my handicraft, is one of the most difficult -kinds of mechanical labour, involving, as it does, not only lightness -and dexterity of hand, but sharp eyes and endless patience. And you -must not suppose that my particular branch of science is especially -distinguished for the demand it makes upon skill in manipulation. A -similar requirement is made upon all students of physical science. -The astronomer, the electrician, the chemist, the mineralogist, the -botanist, are constantly called upon to perform manual operations of -exceeding delicacy. The progress of all branches of physical science -depends upon observation, or on that artificial observation which is -termed experiment, of one kind or another; and, the farther we advance, -the more practical difficulties surround the investigation of the -conditions of the problems offered to us; so that mobile and yet steady -hands, guided by clear vision, are more and more in request in the -workshops of science. - -Indeed, it has struck me that one of the grounds of that sympathy -between the handicraftsmen of this country and the men of science, by -which it has so often been my good fortune to profit, may, perhaps, lie -here. You feel and we feel that, among the so-called learned folks, we -alone are brought into contact with tangible facts in the way that you -are. You know well enough that it is one thing to write a history of -chairs in general, or to address a poem to a throne, or to speculate -about the occult powers of the chair of St. Peter; and quite another -thing to make with your own hands a veritable chair, that will stand -fair and square, and afford a safe and satisfactory resting-place to a -frame of sensitiveness and solidity. - -So it is with us, when we look out from our scientific handicrafts -upon the doings of our learned brethren, whose work is untrammelled -by anything “base and mechanical,” as handicrafts used to be called -when the world was younger, and, in some respects, less wise than -now. We take the greatest interest in their pursuits; we are edified -by their histories and are charmed with their poems, which sometimes -illustrate so remarkably the powers of man’s imagination; some of us -admire and even humbly try to follow them in their high philosophical -excursions, though we know the risk of being snubbed by the inquiry -whether grovelling dissectors of monkeys and blackbeetles can hope -to enter into the empyreal kingdom of speculation. But still we feel -that our business is different; humbler if you will, though the -diminution of dignity is, perhaps, compensated by the increase of -reality; and that we, like you, have to get our work done in a region -where little avails, if the power of dealing with practical tangible -facts is wanting. You know that clever talk touching joinery will not -make a chair; and I know that it is of about as much value in the -physical sciences. Mother Nature is serenely obdurate to honeyed words; -only those who understand the ways of things, and can silently and -effectually handle them, get any good out of her. - - -And now, having, as I hope, justified my assumption of a place among -handicraftsmen, and put myself right with you as to my qualification, -from practical knowledge, to speak about technical education, I will -proceed to lay before you the results of my experience as a teacher of -a handicraft, and tell you what sort of education I should think best -adapted for a boy whom one wanted to make a professional anatomist. - -I should say, in the first place, let him have a good English -elementary education. I do not mean that he shall be able to pass -in such and such a standard—that may or may not be an equivalent -expression—but that his teaching shall have been such as to have given -him command of the common implements of learning and to have created a -desire for the things of the understanding. - -Further, I should like him to know the elements of physical science, -and especially of physics and chemistry, and I should take care that -this elementary knowledge was real. I should like my aspirant to -be able to read a scientific treatise in Latin, French, or German, -because an enormous amount of anatomical knowledge is locked up in -those languages. And especially, I should require some ability to -draw—I do not mean artistically, for that is a gift which may be -cultivated but cannot be learned, but with fair accuracy. I will not -say that everybody can learn even this; for the negative development -of the faculty of drawing in some people is almost miraculous. Still -everybody, or almost everybody, can learn to write; and, as writing is -a kind of drawing, I suppose that the majority of the people who say -they cannot draw, and give copious evidence of the accuracy of their -assertion, could draw, after a fashion, if they tried. And that “after -a fashion” would be better than nothing for my purposes. - -Above all things, let my imaginary pupil have preserved the freshness -and vigour of youth in his mind as well as his body. The educational -abomination of desolation of the present day is the stimulation -of young people to work at high pressure by incessant competitive -examinations. Some wise man (who probably was not an early riser) -has said of early risers in general, that they are conceited all the -forenoon and stupid all the afternoon. Now whether this is true of -early risers in the common acceptation of the word or not, I will not -pretend to say; but it is too often true of the unhappy children who -are forced to rise too early in their classes. They are conceited all -the forenoon of life, and stupid all its afternoon. The vigour and -freshness, which should have been stored up for the purposes of the -hard struggle for existence in practical life, have been washed out -of them by precocious mental debauchery—by book gluttony and lesson -bibbing. Their faculties are worn out by the strain put upon their -callow brains, and they are demoralised by worthless childish triumphs -before the real work of life begins. I have no compassion for sloth, -but youth has more need for intellectual rest than age; and the -cheerfulness, the tenacity of purpose, the power of work which make -many a successful man what he is, must often be placed to the credit, -not of his hours of industry, but to that of his hours of idleness, -in boyhood. Even the hardest worker of us all, if he has to deal with -anything above mere details, will do well, now and again, to let his -brain lie fallow for a space. The next crop of thought will certainly -be all the fuller in the ear and the weeds fewer. - -This is the sort of education which I should like any one who was -going to devote himself to my handicraft to undergo. As to knowing -anything about anatomy itself, on the whole I would rather he left that -alone until he took it up seriously in my laboratory. It is hard work -enough to teach, and I should not like to have superadded to that the -possible need of unteaching. - -Well, but, you will say, this is Hamlet with the Prince of Denmark left -out; your “technical education” is simply a good education, with more -attention to physical science, to drawing, and to modern languages, -than is common, and there is nothing specially technical about it. - -Exactly so; that remark takes us straight to the heart of what I have -to say; which is, that, in my judgment, the preparatory education -of the handicraftsman ought to have nothing of what is ordinarily -understood by “technical” about it. - -The workshop is the only real school for a handicraft. The education -which precedes that of the workshop should be entirely devoted to the -strengthening of the body, the elevation of the moral faculties, and -the cultivation of the intelligence; and, especially, to the imbuing -the mind with a broad and clear view of the laws of that natural world -with the components of which the handicraftsman will have to deal. And, -the earlier the period of life at which the handicraftsman has to enter -into actual practice of his craft, the more important is it that he -should devote the precious hours of preliminary education to things of -the mind, which have no direct and immediate bearing on his branch of -industry, though they lie at the foundation of all realities. - - -Now let me apply the lessons I have learned from my handicraft to -yours. If any of you were obliged to take an apprentice, I suppose -you would like to get a good healthy lad, ready and willing to learn, -handy, and with his fingers not all thumbs, as the saying goes. You -would like that he should read, write, and cipher well; and, if you -were an intelligent master, and your trade involved the application of -scientific principles, as so many trades do, you would like him to know -enough of the elementary principles of science to understand what was -going on. I suppose that, in nine trades out of ten, it would be useful -if he could draw; and many of you must have lamented your inability -to find out for yourselves what foreigners are doing or have done. So -that some knowledge of French and German might, in many cases, be very -desirable. - -So it appears to me that what you want is pretty much what I want; and -the practical question is, How you are to get what you need, under the -actual limitations and conditions of life of handicraftsmen in this -country? - -I think I shall have the assent both of the employers of labour and of -the employed as to one of these limitations; which is, that no scheme -of technical education is likely to be seriously entertained which will -delay the entrance of boys into working life, or prevent them from -contributing towards their own support, as early as they do at present. -Not only do I believe that any such scheme could not be carried out, -but I doubt its desirableness, even if it were practicable. - -The period between childhood and manhood is full of difficulties and -dangers, under the most favourable circumstances; and, even among the -well-to-do, who can afford to surround their children with the most -favourable conditions, examples of a career ruined, before it has well -begun, are but too frequent. Moreover, those who have to live by labour -must be shaped to labour early. The colt that is left at grass too -long makes but a sorry draught-horse, though his way of life does not -bring him within the reach of artificial temptations. Perhaps the most -valuable result of all education is the ability to make yourself do the -thing you have to do, when it ought to be done, whether you like it -or not; it is the first lesson that ought to be learned; and, however -early a man’s training begins, it is probably the last lesson that he -learns thoroughly. - -There is another reason, to which I have already adverted, and which -I would reiterate, why any extension of the time devoted to ordinary -school-work is undesirable. In the newly awakened zeal for education, -we run some risk of forgetting the truth that while under-instruction -is a bad thing, over-instruction may possibly be a worse. - -Success in any kind of practical life is not dependent solely, or -indeed chiefly, upon knowledge. Even in the learned professions, -knowledge, alone, is of less consequence than people are apt to -suppose. And, if much expenditure of bodily energy is involved in the -day’s work, mere knowledge is of still less importance when weighed -against the probable cost of its acquirement. To do a fair day’s work -with his hands, a man needs, above all things, health, strength, and -the patience and cheerfulness which, if they do not always accompany -these blessings, can hardly in the nature of things exist without them; -to which we must add honesty of purpose and a pride in doing what is -done well. - -A good handicraftsman can get on very well without genius, but he will -fare badly without a reasonable share of that which is a more useful -possession for workaday life, namely, mother-wit; and he will be all -the better for a real knowledge, however limited, of the ordinary laws -of nature, and especially of those which apply to his own business. - -Instruction carried so far as to help the scholar to turn his store of -mother-wit to account, to acquire a fair amount of sound elementary -knowledge, and to use his hands and eyes; while leaving him fresh, -vigorous, and with a sense of the dignity of his own calling, whatever -it may be, if fairly and honestly pursued, cannot fail to be of -invaluable service to all those who come under its influence. - -But, on the other hand, if school instruction is carried so far as to -encourage bookishness; if the ambition of the scholar is directed, not -to the gaining of knowledge, but to the being able to pass examinations -successfully; especially if encouragement is given to the mischievous -delusion that brainwork is, in itself, and apart from its quality, a -nobler or more respectable thing than handiwork—such education may be -a deadly mischief to the workman, and lead to the rapid ruin of the -industries it is intended to serve. - -I know that I am expressing the opinion of some of the largest as well -as the most enlightened employers of labour, when I say that there is -a real danger that, from the extreme of no education, we may run to -the other extreme of over-education of handicraftsmen. And I apprehend -that what is true for the ordinary hand-worker is true for the foreman. -Activity, probity, knowledge of men, ready mother-wit, supplemented by -a good knowledge of the general principles involved in his business, -are the making of a good foreman. If he possess these qualities, no -amount of learning will fit him better for his position; while the -course of life and the habit of mind required for the attainment of -such learning may, in various direct and indirect ways, act as direct -disqualifications for it. - -Keeping in mind, then, that the two things to be avoided are, the delay -of the entrance of boys into practical life, and the substitution -of exhausted book-worms for shrewd, handy men, in our works and -factories, let us consider what may be wisely and safely attempted in -the way of improving the education of the handicraftsman. - -First, I look to the elementary schools now happily established all -over the country. I am not going to criticise or find fault with -them; on the contrary, their establishment seems to me to be the most -important and the most beneficial result of the corporate action of the -people in our day. A great deal is said of British interests just now, -but, depend upon it, that no Eastern difficulty needs our intervention -as a nation so seriously, as the putting down both the Bashi-Bazouks -of ignorance and the Cossacks of sectarianism at home. What has already -been achieved in these directions is a great thing; you must have lived -some time to know how great. An education, better in its processes, -better in its substance, than that which was accessible to the great -majority of well-to-do Britons a quarter of a century ago, is now -obtainable by every child in the land. Let any man of my age go into -an ordinary elementary school, and, unless he was unusually fortunate -in his youth, he will tell you that the educational method, the -intelligence, patience, and good temper on the teacher’s part, which -are now at the disposal of the veriest waifs and wastrels of society, -are things of which he had no experience in those costly middle-class -schools, which were so ingeniously contrived as to combine all the -evils and shortcomings of the great public schools with none of their -advantages. Many a man, whose so-called education cost a good deal of -valuable money and occupied many a year of invaluable time, leaves the -inspection of a well-ordered elementary school devoutly wishing that, -in his young days, he had had the chance of being as well taught as -these boys and girls are. - -But while, in view of such an advance in general education, I willingly -obey the natural impulse to be thankful, I am not willing altogether -to rest. I want to see instruction in elementary science and in art -more thoroughly incorporated in the educational system. At present, it -is being administered by driblets, as if it were a potent medicine, -“a few drops to be taken occasionally in a teaspoon.” Every year I -notice that that earnest and untiring friend of yours and of mine, -Sir John Lubbock, stirs up the Government of the day in the House of -Commons on this subject; and also that, every year, he, and the few -members of the House of Commons, such as Mr. Playfair, who sympathise -with him, are met with expressions of warm admiration for science in -general, and reasons at large for doing nothing in particular. But now -that Mr. Forster, to whom the education of the country owes so much, -has announced his conversion to the right faith, I begin to hope that, -sooner or later, things will mend. - -I have given what I believe to be a good reason for the assumption, -that the keeping at school of boys, who are to be handicraftsmen, -beyond the age of thirteen or fourteen is neither practicable nor -desirable; and, as it is quite certain, that, with justice to other -and no less important branches of education, nothing more than the -rudiments of science and art teaching can be introduced into elementary -schools, we must seek elsewhere for a supplementary training in these -subjects, and, if need be, in foreign languages, which may go on after -the workman’s life has begun. - -The means of acquiring the scientific and artistic part of this -training already exists in full working order, in the first place, in -the classes of the Science and Art Department, which are, for the most -part, held in the evening, so as to be accessible to all who choose to -avail themselves of them after working hours. The great advantage of -these classes is that they bring the means of instruction to the doors -of the factories and workshops; that they are no artificial creations, -but by their very existence prove the desire of the people for them; -and finally, that they admit of indefinite development in proportion -as they are wanted. I have often expressed the opinion, and I repeat -it here, that, during the eighteen years they have been in existence, -these classes have done incalculable good; and I can say, of my own -knowledge, that the Department spares no pains and trouble in trying to -increase their usefulness and ensure the soundness of their work. - -No one knows better than my friend Colonel Donnelly, to whose clear -views and great administrative abilities so much of the successful -working of the science classes is due, that there is much to be done -before the system can be said to be thoroughly satisfactory. The -instruction given needs to be made more systematic and especially more -practical; the teachers are of very unequal excellence, and not a few -stand much in need of instruction themselves, not only in the subjects -which they teach, but in the objects for which they teach. I daresay -you have heard of that proceeding, reprobated by all true sportsmen, -which is called “shooting for the pot.” Well, there is such a thing -as “teaching for the pot”—teaching, that is, not that your scholar -may know, but that he may count for payment among those who pass the -examination; and there are some teachers, happily not many, who have -yet to learn that the examiners of the Department regard them as -poachers of the worst description. - -Without presuming in any way to speak in the name of the Department, I -think I may say, as a matter which has come under my own observation, -that it is doing its best to meet all these difficulties. It -systematically promotes practical instruction in the classes; it -affords facilities to teachers who desire to learn their business -thoroughly; and it is always ready to aid in the suppression of -pot-teaching. - -All this is, as you may imagine, highly satisfactory to me. I see that -spread of scientific education, about which I have so often permitted -myself to worry the public, become, for all practical purposes, an -accomplished fact. Grateful as I am for all that is now being done, -in the same direction, in our higher schools and universities, I have -ceased to have any anxiety about the wealthier classes. Scientific -knowledge is spreading by what the alchemists called a “distillatio per -ascensum;” and nothing now can prevent it from continuing to distil -upwards and permeate English society, until, in the remote future, -there shall be no member of the legislature who does not know as much -of science as an elementary school-boy; and even the heads of houses -in our venerable seats of learning shall acknowledge that natural -science is not merely a sort of University back-door through which -inferior men may get at their degrees. Perhaps this apocalyptic vision -is a little wild; and I feel I ought to ask pardon for an outbreak of -enthusiasm, which, I assure you, is not my commonest failing. I have -said that the Government is already doing a great deal in aid of that -kind of technical education for handicraftsmen which, to my mind, is -alone worth seeking. Perhaps it is doing as much as it ought to do, -even in this direction. Certainly there is another kind of help of the -most important character, for which we may look elsewhere than to the -Government. The great mass of mankind have neither the liking, nor the -aptitude, for either literary, or scientific, or artistic pursuits; -nor, indeed, for excellence of any sort. Their ambition is to go -through life with moderate exertion and a fair share of ease, doing -common things in a common way. And a great blessing and comfort it is -that the majority of men are of this mind; for the majority of things -to be done are common things, and are quite well enough done when -commonly done. The great end of life is not knowledge but action. What -men need is, as much knowledge as they can assimilate and organise into -a basis for action; give them more and it may become injurious. One -knows people who are as heavy and stupid from undigested learning as -others are from over-fulness of meat and drink. But a small percentage -of the population is born with that most excellent quality, a desire -for excellence, or with special aptitudes of some sort or another; Mr. -Galton tells us that not more than one in four thousand may be expected -to attain distinction, and not more than one in a million some share -of that intensity of instinctive aptitude, that burning thirst for -excellence, which is called genius. - -Now, the most important object of all educational schemes is to -catch these exceptional people, and turn them to account for the -good of society. No man can say where they will crop up; like their -opposites, the fools and knaves, they appear sometimes in the palace, -and sometimes in the hovel; but the great thing to be aimed at, I was -almost going to say the most important end of all social arrangements, -is to keep these glorious sports of Nature from being either corrupted -by luxury or starved by poverty, and to put them into the position in -which they can do the work for which they are specially fitted. - -Thus, if a lad in an elementary school showed signs of special -capacity, I would try to provide him with the means of continuing his -education after his daily working life had begun; if, in the evening -classes, he developed special capabilities in the direction of science -or of drawing, I would try to secure him an apprenticeship to some -trade in which those powers would have applicability. Or, if he chose -to become a teacher, he should have the chance of so doing. Finally, to -the lad of genius, the one in a million, I would make accessible the -highest and most complete training the country could afford. Whatever -that might cost, depend upon it the investment would be a good one. I -weigh my words when I say that if the nation could purchase a potential -Watt, or Davy, or Faraday, at the cost of a hundred thousand pounds -down, he would be dirt-cheap at the money. It is a mere commonplace -and everyday piece of knowledge, that what these three men did has -produced untold millions of wealth, in the narrowest economical sense -of the word. - -Therefore, as the sum and crown of what is to be done for technical -education, I look to the provision of a machinery for winnowing out the -capacities and giving them scope. When I was a member of the London -School Board, I said, in the course of a speech, that our business -was to provide a ladder, reaching from the gutter to the university, -along which every child in the three kingdoms should have the chance of -climbing as far as he was fit to go. This phrase was so much bandied -about at the time, that, to say truth, I am rather tired of it; but I -know of no other which so fully expresses my belief, not only about -education in general, but about technical education in particular. - -The essential foundation of all the organisation needed for the -promotion of education among handicraftsmen will, I believe, exist in -this country, when every working lad can feel that society has done -as much as lies in its power to remove all needless and artificial -obstacles from his path; that there is no barrier, except such as -exists in the nature of things, between himself and whatever place in -the social organisation he is fitted to fill; and, more than this, -that, if he has capacity and industry, a hand is held out to help him -along any path which is wisely and honestly chosen. - -I have endeavoured to point out to you that a great deal of such an -organisation already exists; and I am glad to be able to add that -there is a good prospect that what is wanting will, before long, be -supplemented. - -Those powerful and wealthy societies, the livery companies of the City -of London, remembering that they are the heirs and representatives of -the trade guilds of the Middle Ages, are interesting themselves in the -question. So far back as 1872 the Society of Arts organised a system -of instruction in the technology of arts and manufactures, for persons -actually employed in factories and workshops, who desired to extend and -improve their knowledge of the theory and practice of their particular -avocations;[8] and a considerable subsidy, in aid of the efforts of -the Society, was liberally granted by the Clothworkers’ Company. We -have here the hopeful commencement of a rational organisation for the -promotion of excellence among handicraftsmen. Quite recently, other of -the livery companies have determined upon giving their powerful, and, -indeed, almost boundless, aid to the improvement of the teaching of -handicrafts. They have already gone so far as to appoint a committee -to act for them; and I betray no confidence in adding that, some time -since, the committee sought the advice and assistance of several -persons, myself among the number. - -Of course I cannot tell you what may be the result of the deliberations -of the committee; but we may all fairly hope that, before long, steps -which will have a weighty and a lasting influence on the growth and -spread of sound and thorough teaching among the handicraftsmen[9] of -this country will be taken by the livery companies of London. - - [This hope has been fully justified by the establishment - of the Cowper Street Schools, and that of the Central - Institution of the City and Guilds of London Institute. - September 1881.] - - - - -IV. - -ON ELEMENTARY INSTRUCTION IN PHYSIOLOGY. - - -The chief ground upon which I venture to recommend that the teaching of -elementary physiology should form an essential part of any organised -course of instruction in matters pertaining to domestic economy, is, -that a knowledge of even the elements of this subject supplies those -conceptions of the constitution and mode of action of the living body, -and of the nature of health and disease, which prepare the mind to -receive instruction from sanitary science. - -It is, I think, eminently desirable that the hygienist and the -physician should find something in the public mind to which they can -appeal; some little stock of universally acknowledged truths, which may -serve as a foundation for their warnings, and predispose towards an -intelligent obedience to their recommendations. - -Listening to ordinary talk about health, disease, and death, one is -often led to entertain a doubt whether the speakers believe that the -course of natural causation runs as smoothly in the human body as -elsewhere. Indications are too often obvious of a strong, though -perhaps an unavowed and half unconscious, under-current of opinion -that the phenomena of life are not only widely different, in their -superficial characters and in their practical importance, from other -natural events, but that they do not follow in that definite order -which characterises the succession of all other occurrences, and the -statement of which we call a law of nature. - -Hence, I think, arises the want of heartiness of belief in the value -of knowledge respecting the laws of health and disease, and of the -foresight and care to which knowledge is the essential preliminary, -which is so often noticeable; and a corresponding laxity and -carelessness in practice, the results of which are too frequently -lamentable. - -It is said that among the many religious sects of Russia, there is one -which holds that all disease is brought about by the direct and special -interference of the Deity, and which, therefore, looks with repugnance -upon both preventive and curative measures as alike blasphemous -interferences with the will of God. Among ourselves, the “Peculiar -People” are, I believe, the only persons who hold the like doctrine -in its integrity, and carry it out with logical rigour. But many of -us are old enough to recollect that the administration of chloroform -in assuagement of the pangs of childbirth was, at its introduction, -strenuously resisted upon similar grounds. - -I am not sure that the feeling, of which the doctrine to which I have -referred is the full expression, does not lie at the bottom of the -minds of a great many people who yet would vigorously object to give -a verbal assent to the doctrine itself. However this may be, the main -point is that sufficient knowledge has now been acquired of vital -phenomena, to justify the assertion, that the notion, that there is -anything exceptional about these phenomena, receives not a particle of -support from any known fact. On the contrary, there is a vast and an -increasing mass of evidence that birth and death, health and disease, -are as much parts of the ordinary stream of events as the rising and -setting of the sun, or the changes of the moon; and that the living -body is a mechanism, the proper working of which we term health; -its disturbance, disease; its stoppage, death. The activity of this -mechanism is dependent upon many and complicated conditions, some of -which are hopelessly beyond our control, while others are readily -accessible, and are capable of being indefinitely modified by our own -actions. The business of the hygienist and of the physician is to know -the range of these modifiable conditions, and how to influence them -towards the maintenance of health and the prolongation of life; the -business of the general public is to give an intelligent assent, and -a ready obedience based upon that assent, to the rules laid down for -their guidance by such experts. But an intelligent assent is an assent -based upon knowledge, and the knowledge which is here in question means -an acquaintance with the elements of physiology. - -It is not difficult to acquire such knowledge. What is true, to -a certain extent, of all the physical sciences, is eminently -characteristic of physiology—the difficulty of the subject begins -beyond the stage of elementary knowledge, and increases with every -stage of progress. While the most highly trained and the best furnished -intellect may find all its resources insufficient, when it strives to -reach the heights and penetrate into the depths of the problems of -physiology, the elementary and fundamental truths can be made clear to -a child. - -No one can have any difficulty in comprehending the mechanism of -circulation or respiration; or the general mode of operation of the -organ of vision; though the unravelling of all the minutiæ of these -processes, may, for the present, baffle the conjoined attacks of -the most accomplished physicists, chemists, and mathematicians. To -know the anatomy of the human body, with even an approximation to -thoroughness, is the work of a life; but as much as is needed for a -sound comprehension of elementary physiological truths, may be learned -in a week. - -A knowledge of the elements of physiology is not only easy of -acquirement, but it may be made a real and practical acquaintance -with the facts, as far as it goes. The subject of study is always at -hand, in oneself. The principal constituents of the skeleton, and the -changes of form of contracting muscles, may be felt through one’s -own skin. The beating of one’s heart, and its connection with the -pulse, may be noted; the influence of the valves of one’s own veins -may be shown; the movements of respiration may be observed; while the -wonderful phenomena of sensation afford an endless field for curious -and interesting self-study. The prick of a needle will yield, in a drop -of one’s own blood, material for microscopic observation of phenomena -which lie at the foundation of all biological conceptions; and a cold, -with its concomitant coughing and sneezing, may prove the sweet uses -of adversity by helping one to a clear conception of what is meant by -“reflex action.” - -Of course there is a limit to this physiological self-examination. -But there is so close a solidarity between ourselves and our poor -relations of the animal world, that our inaccessible inward parts -may be supplemented by theirs. A comparative anatomist knows that a -sheep’s heart and lungs, or eye, must not be confounded with those of -a man; but, so far as the comprehension of the elementary facts of the -physiology of circulation, of respiration, and of vision goes, the one -furnishes the needful anatomical data as well as the other. - -Thus, it is quite possible to give instruction in elementary physiology -in such a manner as, not only to confer knowledge, which, for the -reason I have mentioned, is useful in itself; but to serve the purposes -of a training in accurate observation, and in the methods of reasoning -of physical science. But that is an advantage which I mention only -incidentally, as the present Conference does not deal with education in -the ordinary sense of the word. - -It will not be suspected that I wish to make physiologists of all the -world. It would be as reasonable to accuse an advocate of the “three -R’s” of a desire to make an orator, an author, and a mathematician of -everybody. A stumbling reader, a pot-hook writer, and an arithmetician -who has not got beyond the rule of three, is not a person of brilliant -acquirements; but the difference between such a member of society and -one who can neither read, write, nor cipher is almost inexpressible; -and no one now-a-days doubts the value of instruction, even if it goes -no farther. - -The saying that a little knowledge is a dangerous thing is, to my -mind, a very dangerous adage. If knowledge is real and genuine, I do -not believe that it is other than a very valuable possession, however -infinitesimal its quantity may be. Indeed, if a little knowledge is -dangerous, where is the man who has so much as to be out of danger? - -If William Harvey’s life-long labours had revealed to him a tenth -part of that which may be made sound and real knowledge to our boys -and girls, he would not only have been what he was, the greatest -physiologist of his age, but he would have loomed upon the seventeenth -century as a sort of intellectual portent. Our “little knowledge” would -have been to him a great, astounding, unlooked-for vision of scientific -truth. - -I really see no harm which can come of giving our children a little -knowledge of physiology. But then, as I have said, the instruction -must be real, based upon observation, eked out by good explanatory -diagrams and models, and conveyed by a teacher whose own knowledge has -been acquired by a study of the facts; and not the mere catechismal -parrot-work which too often usurps the place of elementary teaching. - -It is, I hope, unnecessary for me to give a formal contradiction to -the silly fiction, which is assiduously circulated by fanatics who not -only ought to know, but do know, that their assertions are untrue, -that I have advocated the introduction of that experimental discipline -which is absolutely indispensable to the professed physiologist, into -elementary teaching. - -But while I should object to any experimentation which can justly be -called painful, for the purpose of elementary instruction; and, while, -as a member of a late Royal Commission, I gladly did my best to prevent -the infliction of needless pain, for any purpose; I think it is my duty -to take this opportunity of expressing my regret at a condition of the -law which permits a boy to troll for pike, or set lines with live frog -bait, for idle amusement; and, at the same time, lays the teacher of -that boy open to the penalty of fine and imprisonment, if he uses the -same animal for the purpose of exhibiting one of the most beautiful -and instructive of physiological spectacles, the circulation in the -web of the foot. No one could undertake to affirm that a frog is not -inconvenienced by being wrapped up in a wet rag, and having his toes -tied out; and it cannot be denied that inconvenience is a sort of pain. -But you must not inflict the least pain on a vertebrated animal for -scientific purposes (though you may do a good deal in that way for gain -or for sport) without due licence of the Secretary of State for the -Home Department, granted under the authority of the Vivisection Act. - -So it comes about, that, in this present year of grace 1877, two -persons may be charged with cruelty to animals. One has impaled a frog, -and suffered the creature to writhe about in that condition for hours; -the other has pained the animal no more than one of us would be pained -by tying strings round his fingers, and keeping him in the position -of a hydropathic patient. The first offender says, “I did it because -I find fishing very amusing,” and the magistrate bids him depart in -peace; nay, probably wishes him good sport. The second pleads, “I -wanted to impress a scientific truth, with a distinctness attainable in -no other way, on the minds of my scholars,” and the magistrate fines -him five pounds. - -I cannot but think that this is an anomalous and not wholly creditable -state of things. - - - - -V. - -JOSEPH PRIESTLEY. - - -If the man to perpetuate whose memory we have this day raised a -statue had been asked on what part of his busy life’s work he set the -highest value, he would undoubtedly have pointed to his voluminous -contributions to theology. In season and out of season, he was the -steadfast champion of that hypothesis respecting the Divine nature -which is termed Unitarianism by its friends and Socinianism by its -foes. Regardless of odds, he was ready to do battle with all comers in -that cause; and if no adversaries entered the lists, he would sally -forth to seek them. - -To this, his highest ideal of duty, Joseph Priestley sacrificed the -vulgar prizes of life, which, assuredly, were within easy reach of a -man of his singular energy and varied abilities. For this object, he -put aside, as of secondary importance, those scientific investigations -which he loved so well, and in which he showed himself so competent -to enlarge the boundaries of natural knowledge and to win fame. In -this cause, he not only cheerfully suffered obloquy from the bigoted -and the unthinking, and came within sight of martyrdom; but bore with -that which is much harder to be borne than all these, the unfeigned -astonishment and hardly disguised contempt of a brilliant society, -composed of men whose sympathy and esteem must have been most dear to -him, and to whom it was simply incomprehensible that a philosopher -should seriously occupy himself with any form of Christianity. - -It appears to me that the man who, setting before himself such an ideal -of life, acted up to it consistently, is worthy of the deepest respect, -whatever opinion may be entertained as to the real value of the tenets -which he so zealously propagated and defended. - -But I am sure that I speak not only for myself, but for all this -assemblage, when I say that our purpose to-day is to do honour, not -to Priestley, the Unitarian divine, but to Priestley, the fearless -defender of rational freedom in thought and in action: to Priestley, -the philosophic thinker; to that Priestley who held a foremost place -among “the swift runners who hand over the lamp of life,”[10] and -transmit from one generation to another the fire kindled, in the -childhood of the world, at the Promethean altar of Science. - - -The main incidents of Priestley’s life are so well known that I need -dwell upon them at no great length. - -Born in 1733, at Fieldhead, near Leeds, and brought up among Calvinists -of the straitest orthodoxy, the boy’s striking natural ability led to -his being devoted to the profession of a minister of religion; and, in -1752, he was sent to the Dissenting Academy at Daventry—an institution -which authority left undisturbed, though its existence contravened the -law. The teachers under whose instruction and influence the young man -came at Daventry, carried out to the letter the injunction to “try all -things: hold fast that which is good,” and encouraged the discussion -of every imaginable proposition with complete freedom, the leading -professors taking opposite sides; a discipline which, admirable as -it may be from a purely scientific point of view, would seem to be -calculated to make acute, rather than sound, divines. Priestley tells -us, in his “Autobiography,” that he generally found himself on the -unorthodox side: and, as he grew older, and his faculties attained -their maturity, this native tendency towards heterodoxy grew with his -growth and strengthened with his strength. He passed from Calvinism to -Arianism; and finally, in middle life, landed in that very broad form -of Unitarianism, by which his craving after a credible and consistent -theory of things was satisfied. - -On leaving Daventry, Priestley became minister of a congregation, first -at Needham Market, and secondly at Nantwich; but whether on account -of his heterodox opinions, or of the stuttering which impeded his -expression of them in the pulpit, little success attended his efforts -in this capacity. In 1761, a career much more suited to his abilities -became open to him. He was appointed “tutor in the languages” in the -Dissenting Academy at Warrington, in which capacity, besides giving -three courses of lectures, he taught Latin, Greek, French, and Italian, -and read lectures on the Theory of Language and Universal Grammar, on -Oratory, Philosophical Criticism, and Civil law. And it is interesting -to observe that, as a teacher, he encouraged and cherished in those -whom he instructed, the freedom which he had enjoyed, in his own -student days, at Daventry. One of his pupils tells us that, - - “At the conclusion of his lecture, he always encouraged - his students to express their sentiments relative to the - subject of it, and to urge any objections to what he had - delivered, without reserve. It pleased him when any one - commenced such a conversation. In order to excite the - freest discussion, he occasionally invited the students - to drink tea with him, in order to canvass the subjects - of his lectures. I do not recollect that he ever showed - the least displeasure at the strongest objections that - were made to what he delivered, but I distinctly remember - the smile of approbation with which he usually received - them: nor did he fail to point out, in a very encouraging - manner, the ingenuity or force of any remarks that were - made, when they merited these characters. His object, - as well as Dr. Aikin’s, was to engage the students to - examine and decide for themselves, uninfluenced by the - sentiments of any other persons.”[11] - -It would be difficult to give a better description of a model teacher -than that conveyed in these words. - -From his earliest days, Priestley had shown a strong bent towards the -study of nature; and his brother Timothy tells us that the boy put -spiders into bottles, to see how long they would live in the same air—a -curious anticipation of the investigations of his later years. At -Nantwich, where he set up a school, Priestley informs us that he bought -an air pump, an electrical machine, and other instruments, in the use -of which he instructed his scholars. But he does not seem to have -devoted himself seriously to physical science until 1766, when he had -the great good fortune to meet Benjamin Franklin, whose friendship he -ever afterwards enjoyed. Encouraged by Franklin, he wrote a “History of -Electricity,” which was published in 1767, and appears to have met with -considerable success. - -In the same year, Priestley left Warrington to become the minister of -a congregation at Leeds; and, here, happening to live next door to a -public brewery, as he says, - - “I, at first, amused myself with making experiments on - the fixed air which I found ready-made in the process - of fermentation. When I removed from that house I was - under the necessity of making fixed air for myself; and - one experiment leading to another, as I have distinctly - and faithfully noted in my various publications on the - subject, I by degrees contrived a convenient apparatus - for the purpose, but of the cheapest kind. - - “When I began these experiments I knew very little - of _chemistry_, and had, in a manner, no idea on the - subject before I attended a course of chemical lectures, - delivered in the Academy at Warrington, by Dr. Turner of - Liverpool. But I have often thought that, upon the whole, - this circumstance was no disadvantage to me; as, in this - situation, I was led to devise an apparatus and processes - of my own, adapted to my peculiar views; whereas, if I - had been previously accustomed to the usual chemical - processes, I should not have so easily thought of any - other, and without new modes of operation, I should - hardly have discovered anything materially new.”[12] - -The first outcome of Priestley’s chemical work, published in 1772, was -of a very practical character. He discovered the way of impregnating -water with an excess of “fixed air,” or carbonic acid, and thereby -producing what we now know as “soda water”—a service to naturally, -and still more to artificially, thirsty souls, which those whose -parched throats and hot heads are cooled by morning draughts of -that beverage, cannot too gratefully acknowledge. In the same year, -Priestley communicated the extensive series of observations which his -industry and ingenuity had accumulated, in the course of four years, -to the Royal Society, under the title of “Observations on Different -Kinds of Air”—a memoir which was justly regarded of so much merit and -importance, that the Society at once conferred upon the author the -highest distinction in their power, by awarding him the Copley Medal. - -In 1771 a proposal was made to Priestley to accompany Captain Cook -in his second voyage to the South Seas. He accepted it, and his -congregation agreed to pay an assistant to supply his place during -his absence. But the appointment lay in the hands of the Board of -Longitude, of which certain clergymen were members; and whether these -worthy ecclesiastics feared that Priestley’s presence among the ship’s -company might expose his Majesty’s Sloop _Resolution_ to the fate which -aforetime befell a certain ship that went from Joppa to Tarshish; or -whether they were alarmed lest a Socinian should undermine that piety -which, in the days of Commodore Trunnion, so strikingly characterised -sailors, does not appear; but, at any rate, they objected to Priestley -“on account of his religious principles,” and appointed the two -Forsters, whose “religious principles,” if they had been known to these -well-meaning but not far-sighted persons, would probably have surprised -them. - -In 1772 another proposal was made to Priestley. Lord Shelburne, -desiring a “literary companion,” had been brought into communication -with Priestley by the good offices of a friend of both, Dr. Price; -and offered him the nominal post of librarian, with a good house -and appointments, and an annuity in case of the termination of the -engagement. Priestley accepted the offer, and remained with Lord -Shelburne for seven years, sometimes residing at Calne, sometimes -travelling abroad with the Earl. - -Why the connection terminated has never been exactly known; but it -is certain that Lord Shelburne behaved with the utmost consideration -and kindness towards Priestley; that he fulfilled his engagements to -the letter; and that, at a later period, he expressed a desire that -Priestley should return to his old footing in his house. Probably -enough, the politician, aspiring to the highest offices in the state, -may have found the position of the protector of a man who was being -denounced all over the country as an infidel and an atheist somewhat -embarrassing. In fact, a passage in Priestley’s “Autobiography” on the -occasion of the publication of his “Disquisitions relating to Matter -and Spirit,” which took place in 1777, indicates pretty clearly the -state of the case:— - - “(126) It being probable that this publication would be - unpopular, and might be the means of bringing odium on - my patron, several attempts were made by his friends, - though none by himself, to dissuade me from persisting - in it. But being, as I thought, engaged in the cause - of important truth, I proceeded without regard to any - consequences, assuring them that this publication should - not be injurious to his lordship.” - -It is not unreasonable to suppose that his lordship, as a keen, -practical man of the world, did not derive much satisfaction from this -assurance. The “evident marks of dissatisfaction” which Priestley says -he first perceived in his patron in 1778, may well have arisen from -the peer’s not unnatural uneasiness as to what his domesticated, but -not tamed, philosopher might write next, and what storm might thereby -be brought down on his own head; and it speaks very highly for Lord -Shelburne’s delicacy that, in the midst of such perplexities, he -made not the least attempt to interfere with Priestley’s freedom of -action. In 1780, however, he intimated to Dr. Price that he should be -glad to establish Priestley on his Irish estates: the suggestion was -interpreted, as Lord Shelburne probably intended it should be, and -Priestley left him, the annuity of £150 a year, which had been promised -in view of such a contingency, being punctually paid. - -After leaving Calne, Priestley spent some little time in London, and -then, having settled in Birmingham at the desire of his brother-in-law, -he was soon invited to become the minister of a large congregation. -This settlement Priestley considered, at the time, to be “the happiest -event of his life.” And well he might think so; for it gave him -competence and leisure; placed him within reach of the best makers -of apparatus of the day; made him a member of that remarkable “Lunar -Society,” at whose meetings he could exchange thoughts with such men -as Watt, Wedgewood, Darwin, and Boulton; and threw open to him the -pleasant house of the Galtons of Barr, where these men, and others of -less note, formed a society of exceptional charm and intelligence.[13] - -But these halcyon days were ended by a bitter storm. The French -Revolution broke out. An electric shock ran through the nations; -whatever there was of corrupt and retrograde, and, at the same time, -a great deal of what there was of best and noblest, in European -society shuddered at the outburst of long-pent-up social fires. -Men’s feelings were excited in a way that we, in this generation, -can hardly comprehend. Party wrath and virulence were expressed in -a manner unparalleled, and it is to be hoped impossible, in our -times; and Priestley and his friends were held up to public scorn, -even in Parliament, as fomenters of sedition. A “Church-and-King” cry -was raised against the Liberal Dissenters; and, in Birmingham, it -was intensified and specially directed towards Priestley by a local -controversy, in which he had engaged with his usual vigour. In 1791, -the celebration of the second anniversary of the taking of the Bastille -by a public dinner, with which Priestley had nothing whatever to do, -gave the signal to the loyal and pious mob, who, unchecked, and indeed -to some extent encouraged, by those who were responsible for order, had -the town at their mercy for three days. The chapels and houses of the -leading Dissenters were wrecked, and Priestley and his family had to -fly for their lives, leaving library, apparatus, papers, and all their -possessions, a prey to the flames. - -Priestley never returned to Birmingham. He bore the outrages and losses -inflicted upon him with extreme patience and sweetness,[14] and betook -himself to London. But even his scientific colleagues gave him a cold -shoulder; and though he was elected minister of a congregation at -Hackney, he felt his position to be insecure, and finally determined on -emigrating to the United States. He landed in America in 1794; lived -quietly with his sons at Northumberland, in Pennsylvania, where his -posterity still flourish; and, clear-headed and busy to the last, died -on the 6th of February 1804. - - -Such were the conditions under which Joseph Priestley did the work -which lay before him, and then, as the Norse Sagas say, went out of the -story. The work itself was of the most varied kind. No human interest -was without its attraction for Priestley, and few men have ever had -so many irons in the fire at once; but, though he may have burned his -fingers a little, very few who have tried that operation have burned -their fingers so little. He made admirable discoveries in science; his -philosophical treatises are still well worth reading; his political -works are full of insight and replete with the spirit of freedom; and -while all these sparks flew off from his anvil, the controversial -hammer rained a hail of blows on orthodox priest and bishop. While -thus engaged, the kindly, cheerful doctor felt no more wrath or -uncharitableness towards his opponents than a smith does towards his -iron. But if the iron could only speak!—and the priests and bishops -took the point of view of the iron. - -No doubt what Priestley’s friends repeatedly urged upon him—that he -would have escaped the heavier trials of his life and done more for the -advancement of knowledge, if he had confined himself to his scientific -pursuits and let his fellow-men go their way—was true. But it seems to -have been Priestley’s feeling that he was a man and a citizen before -he was a philosopher, and that the duties of the two former positions -are at least as imperative as those of the latter. Moreover, there are -men (and I think Priestley was one of them) to whom the satisfaction -of throwing down a triumphant fallacy is as great as that which -attends the discovery of a new truth; who feel better satisfied with -the government of the world, when they have been helping Providence -by knocking an imposture on the head; and who care even more for -freedom of thought than for mere advance of knowledge. These men are -the Carnots who organise victory for truth, and they are, at least, as -important as the generals who visibly fight her battles in the field. - - -Priestley’s reputation as a man of science rests upon his numerous and -important contributions to the chemistry of gaseous bodies; and to form -a just estimate of the value of his work—of the extent to which it -advanced the knowledge of fact and the development of sound theoretical -views—we must reflect what chemistry was in the first half of the -eighteenth century. - -The vast science which now passes under that name had no existence. -Air, water, and fire were still counted among the elemental bodies; -and though Van Helmont, a century before, had distinguished different -kinds of air as _gas ventosum_ and _gas sylvestre_, and Boyle and -Hales had experimentally defined the physical properties of air, and -discriminated some of the various kinds of aëriform bodies, no one -suspected the existence of the numerous totally distinct gaseous -elements which are now known, or dreamed that the air we breathe and -the water we drink are compounds of gaseous elements. - -But, in 1754, a young Scotch physician, Dr. Black, made the first -clearing in this tangled backwood of knowledge. And it gives one a -wonderful impression of the juvenility of scientific chemistry to think -that Lord Brougham, whom so many of us recollect, attended Black’s -lectures when he was a student in Edinburgh. Black’s researches gave -the world the novel and startling conception of a gas that was a -permanently elastic fluid like air, but that differed from common air -in being much heavier, very poisonous, and in having the properties of -an acid, capable of neutralising the strongest alkalies; and it took -the world some time to become accustomed to the notion. - -A dozen years later, one of the most sagacious and accurate -investigators who has adorned this, or any other, country, Henry -Cavendish, published a memoir in the “Philosophical Transactions,” in -which he deals not only with the “fixed air” (now called carbonic acid -or carbonic anhydride) of Black, but with “inflammable air,” or what we -now term hydrogen. - -By the rigorous application of weight and measure to all his processes, -Cavendish implied the belief subsequently formulated by Lavoisier, -that, in chemical processes, matter is neither created nor destroyed, -and indicated the path along which all future explorers must travel. -Nor did he himself halt until this path led him, in 1784, to the -brilliant and fundamental discovery that water is composed of two gases -united in fixed and constant proportions. - -It is a trying ordeal for any man to be compared with Black and -Cavendish, and Priestley cannot be said to stand on their level. -Nevertheless, his achievements are not only great in themselves, but -truly wonderful, if we consider the disadvantages under which he -laboured. Without the careful scientific training of Black, without the -leisure and appliances secured by the wealth of Cavendish, he scaled -the walls of science as so many Englishmen have done before and since -his day; and trusting to mother wit to supply the place of training, -and to ingenuity to create apparatus out of washing tubs, he discovered -more new gases than all his predecessors put together had done. He -laid the foundations of gas analysis; he discovered the complementary -actions of animal and vegetable life upon the constituents of the -atmosphere; and, finally, he crowned his work, this day one hundred -years ago, by the discovery of that “pure dephlogisticated air” to -which the French chemists subsequently gave the name of oxygen. Its -importance, as the constituent of the atmosphere which disappears in -the processes of respiration and combustion, and is restored by green -plants growing in sunshine, was proved somewhat later. For these -brilliant discoveries, the Royal Society elected Priestley a fellow and -gave him their medal, while the Academies of Paris and St. Petersburg -conferred their membership upon him. Edinburgh had made him an -honorary doctor of laws at an early period of his career; but, I need -hardly add, that a man of Priestley’s opinions received no recognition -from the universities of his own country. - -That Priestley’s contributions to the knowledge of chemical fact were -of the greatest importance, and that they richly deserve all the praise -that has been awarded to them, is unquestionable; but it must, at the -same time, be admitted that he had no comprehension of the deeper -significance of his work; and, so far from contributing anything to the -theory of the facts which he discovered, or assisting in their rational -explanation, his influence to the end of his life was warmly exerted -in favour of error. From first to last, he was a stiff adherent of the -phlogiston doctrine which was prevalent when his studies commenced; -and, by a curious irony of fate, the man who by the discovery of what -he called “dephlogisticated air” furnished the essential datum for the -true theory of combustion, of respiration, and of the composition of -water, to the end of his days fought against the inevitable corollaries -from his own labours. His last scientific work, published in 1800, -bears the title, “The Doctrine of Phlogiston established, and that of -the Composition of Water refuted.” - -When Priestley commenced his studies, the current belief was, that -atmospheric air, freed from accidental impurities, is a simple -elementary substance, indestructible and unalterable, as water was -supposed to be. When a combustible burned, or when an animal breathed -in air, it was supposed that a substance, “phlogiston,” the matter of -heat and light, passed from the burning or breathing body into it, -and destroyed its powers of supporting life and combustion. Thus, air -contained in a vessel in which a lighted candle had gone out, or a -living animal had breathed until it could breathe no longer, was called -“phlogisticated.” The same result was supposed to be brought about by -the addition of what Priestley called “nitrous gas” to common air. - -In the course of his researches, Priestley found that the quantity of -common air which can thus become “phlogisticated,” amounts to about -one-fifth the volume of the whole quantity submitted to experiment. -Hence it appeared that common air consists, to the extent of -four-fifths of its volume, of air which is already “phlogisticated;” -while the other fifth is free from phlogiston, or “dephlogisticated.” -On the other hand, Priestley found that air “phlogisticated” by -combustion or respiration could be “dephlogisticated,” or have the -properties of pure common air restored to it, by the action of green -plants in sunshine. The question, therefore, would naturally arise—as -common air can be wholly phlogisticated by combustion, and converted -into a substance which will no longer support combustion, is it -possible to get air that shall be less phlogisticated than common air, -and consequently support combustion better than common air does? - -Now, Priestley says that, in 1774, the possibility of obtaining air -less phlogisticated than common air had not occurred to him.[15] But -in pursuing his experiments on the evolution of air from various bodies -by means of heat, it happened that, on the 1st of August 1774, he threw -the heat of the sun, by means of a large burning glass which he had -recently obtained, upon a substance which was then called _mercurius -calcinatus per se_, and which is commonly known as red precipitate. - - “I presently found that, by means of this lens, air was - expelled from it very readily. Having got about three - or four times as much as the bulk of my materials, I - admitted water to it, and found that it was not imbibed - by it. But what surprised me more than I can well - express, was that a candle burned in this air with a - remarkably vigorous flame, very much like that enlarged - flame with which a candle burns in nitrous air, exposed - to iron or lime of sulphur; but as I had got nothing like - this remarkable appearance from any kind of air besides - this particular modification of nitrous air, and I knew - no nitrous acid was used in the preparation of _mercurius - calcinatus_, I was utterly at a loss how to account for - it. - - “In this case also, though I did not give sufficient - attention to the circumstance at that time, the flame - of the candle, besides being larger, burned with more - splendour and heat than in that species of nitrous air; - and a piece of red-hot wood sparkled in it, exactly like - paper dipped in a solution of nitre, and it consumed very - fast—an experiment which I had never thought of trying - with nitrous air.”[16] - -Priestley obtained the same sort of air from red lead, but, as he says -himself, he remained in ignorance of the properties of this new kind of -air for seven months, or until March 1775, when he found that the new -air behaved with “nitrous gas” in the same way as the dephlogisticated -part of common air does;[17] but that, instead of being diminished to -four-fifths, it almost completely vanished, and, therefore, showed -itself to be “between five and six times as good as the best common -air I have ever met with.”[18] As this new air thus appeared to be -completely free from phlogiston, Priestley called it “dephlogisticated -air.” - -What was the nature of this air? Priestley found that the same kind of -air was to be obtained by moistening with the spirit of nitre (which he -terms nitrous acid) any kind of earth that is free from phlogiston, and -applying heat; and consequently he says: “There remained no doubt on -my mind but that the atmospherical air, or the thing that we breathe, -consists of the nitrous acid and earth, with so much phlogiston as is -necessary to its elasticity, and likewise so much more as is required -to bring it from its state of perfect purity to the mean condition in -which we find it.”[19] - - -Priestley’s view, in fact, is that atmospheric air is a kind of -saltpetre, in which the potash is replaced by some unknown earth. -And in speculating on the manner in which saltpetre is formed, -he enunciates the hypothesis, “that nitre is formed by a real -_decomposition of the air itself_, the _bases_ that are presented to -it having, in such circumstances, a nearer affinity with the spirit -of nitre than that kind of earth with which it is united in the -atmosphere.”[20] - -It would have been hard for the most ingenious person to have wandered -farther from the truth than Priestley does in this hypothesis; and, -though Lavoisier undoubtedly treated Priestley very ill, and pretended -to have discovered dephlogisticated air, or oxygen, as he called it, -independently, we can almost forgive him, when we reflect how different -were the ideas which the great French chemist attached to the body -which Priestley discovered. - -They are like two navigators of whom the first sees a new country, but -takes clouds for mountains and mirage for lowlands; while the second -determines its length and breadth, and lays down on a chart its exact -place, so that, thenceforth, it serves as a guide to his successors, -and becomes a secure outpost whence new explorations may be pushed. - -Nevertheless, as Priestley himself somewhere remarks, the first object -of physical science is to ascertain facts, and the service which he -rendered to chemistry by the definite establishment of a large number -of new and fundamentally important facts, is such as to entitle him to -a very high place among the fathers of chemical science. - - -It is difficult to say whether Priestley’s philosophical, political, or -theological views were most responsible for the bitter hatred which was -borne to him by a large body of his countrymen,[21] and which found -its expression in the malignant insinuations in which Burke, to his -everlasting shame, indulged in the House of Commons. - -Without containing much that will be new to the readers of Hobbes, -Spinoza, Collins, Hume, and Hartley, and, indeed, while making no -pretensions to originality, Priestley’s “Disquisitions relating to -Matter and Spirit,” and his “Doctrine of Philosophical Necessity -illustrated,” are among the most powerful, clear, and unflinching -expositions of materialism and necessarianism which exist in the -English language, and are still well worth reading. - -Priestley denied the freedom of the will in the sense of its -self-determination; he denied the existence of a soul distinct from the -body; and as a natural consequence, he denied the natural immortality -of man. - -In relation to these matters English opinion, a century ago, was very -much what it is now. - -A man may be a necessarian without incurring graver reproach than that -implied in being called a gloomy fanatic, necessarianism, though very -shocking, having a note of Calvinistic orthodoxy; but, if a man is a -materialist; or, if good authorities say he is and must be so, in spite -of his assertion to the contrary; or, if he acknowledge himself unable -to see good reasons for believing in the natural immortality of man, -respectable folks look upon him as an unsafe neighbour of a cash-box, -as an actual or potential sensualist, the more virtuous in outward -seeming, the more certainly loaded with secret “grave personal sins.” - -Nevertheless, it is as certain as anything can be, that Joseph -Priestley was no gloomy fanatic, but as cheerful and kindly a soul as -ever breathed, the idol of children; a man who was hated only by those -who did not know him, and who charmed away the bitterest prejudices -in personal intercourse; a man who never lost a friend, and the best -testimony to whose worth is the generous and tender warmth with which -his many friends vied with one another in rendering him substantial -help, in all the crises of his career. - -The unspotted purity of Priestley’s life, the strictness of -his performance of every duty, his transparent sincerity, the -unostentatious and deep-seated piety which breathes through all his -correspondence, are in themselves a sufficient refutation of the -hypothesis, invented by bigots to cover uncharitableness, that such -opinions as his must arise from moral defects. And his statue will do -as good service as the brazen image that was set upon a pole before -the Israelites, if those who have been bitten by the fiery serpents of -sectarian hatred, which still haunt this wilderness of a world, are -made whole by looking upon the image of a heretic, who was yet a saint. - -Though Priestley did not believe in the natural immortality of man, he -held with an almost naïve realism, that man would be raised from the -dead by a direct exertion of the power of God, and thenceforward be -immortal. And it may be as well for those who may be shocked by this -doctrine to know that views, substantially identical with Priestley’s, -have been advocated, since his time, by two prelates of the Anglican -Church: by Dr. Whately, Archbishop of Dublin, in his well-known -“Essays;”[22] and by Dr. Courtenay, Bishop of Kingston in Jamaica, -the first edition of whose remarkable book “On the Future States,” -dedicated to Archbishop Whately, was published in 1843 and the second -in 1857. According to Bishop Courtenay, - - “The death of the body will cause a cessation of all the - activity of the mind by way of natural consequence; to - continue for ever UNLESS the Creator should interfere.” - -And again:— - - “The natural end of human existence is the ‘first death,’ - the dreamless slumber of the grave, wherein man lies - spellbound, soul and body, under the dominion of sin - and death—that whatever modes of conscious existence, - whatever future states of ‘life’ or of ‘torment’ beyond - Hades are reserved for man, are results of our blessed - Lord’s victory over sin and death; that the resurrection - of the dead must be preliminary to their entrance into - either of the future states, and that the nature and even - existence of these states and even the mere fact that - there is a futurity of consciousness, can be known _only_ - through God’s revelation of Himself in the Person and the - Gospel of His Son.”—P. 389. - -And now hear Priestley:— - - “Man, according to this system (of materialism), is no - more than we now see of him. His being commences at - the time of his conception, or perhaps at an earlier - period. The corporeal and mental faculties, in being in - the same substance, grow, ripen, and decay together; - and whenever the system is dissolved it continues in a - state of dissolution till it shall please that Almighty - Being who called it into existence to restore it to life - again.”—“Matter and Spirit,” p. 49. - -And again:— - - “The doctrine of the Scripture is, that God made man of - the dust of the ground, and by simply animating this - organised matter, made man that living percipient and - intelligent being that he is. According to Revelation, - _death_ is a state of rest and insensibility, and our - only though sure hope of a future life is founded on - the doctrine of the resurrection of the whole man at - some distant period; this assurance being sufficiently - confirmed to us both by the evident tokens of a Divine - commission attending the persons who delivered the - doctrine, and especially by the actual resurrection of - Jesus Christ, which is more authentically attested than - any other fact in history.”—_Ibid._, p. 247. - -We all know that “a saint in crape is twice a saint in lawn;” but -it is not yet admitted that the views which are consistent with -such saintliness in lawn, become diabolical when held by a mere -dissenter.[23] - -I am not here either to defend or to attack Priestley’s philosophical -views, and I cannot say that I am personally disposed to attach much -value to episcopal authority in philosophical questions; but it seems -right to call attention to the fact, that those of Priestley’s opinions -which have brought most odium upon him, have been openly promulgated, -without challenge, by persons occupying the highest positions in the -State Church. - -I must confess that what interests me most about Priestley’s -materialism, is the evidence that he saw dimly the seed of destruction -which such materialism carries within its own bosom. In the course -of his reading for his “History of Discoveries relating to Vision, -Light, and Colours,” he had come upon the speculations of Boscovich -and Michell, and had been led to admit the sufficiently obvious truth -that our knowledge of matter is a knowledge of its properties; and that -of its substance—if it have a substance—we know nothing. And this led -to the further admission that, so far as we can know, there may be no -difference between the substance of matter and the substance of spirit -(“Disquisitions,” p. 16). A step farther would have shown Priestley -that his materialism was, essentially, very little different from the -Idealism of his contemporary, the Bishop of Cloyne. - - -As Priestley’s philosophy is mainly a clear statement of the views of -the deeper thinkers of his day, so are his political conceptions based -upon those of Locke. Locke’s aphorism that “the end of government is -the good of mankind,” is thus expanded by Priestley:— - - “It must necessarily be understood, therefore, whether it - be expressed or not, that all people live in society for - their mutual advantage; so that the good and happiness - of the members, that is, of the majority of the members, - of any state, is the great standard by which everything - relating to that state must finally be determined.”[24] - -The little sentence here interpolated, “that is, of the majority of -the members of any state,” appears to be that passage which suggested -to Bentham, according to his own acknowledgment, the famous “greatest -happiness” formula, which by substituting “happiness” for “good,” has -converted a noble into an ignoble principle. But I do not call to -mind that there is any utterance in Locke quite so outspoken as the -following passage in the “Essay on the First Principles of Government.” -After laying down as “a fundamental maxim in all governments,” the -proposition that “kings, senators, and nobles” are “the servants of the -public,” Priestley goes on to say:— - - “But in the largest states, if the abuses of the - government should at any time be great and manifest; if - the servants of the people, forgetting their masters and - their masters’ interest, should pursue a separate one - of their own; if, instead of considering that they are - made for the people, they should consider the people as - made for them; if the oppressions and violation of right - should be great, flagrant, and universally resented; if - the tyrannical governors should have no friends but a few - sycophants, who had long preyed upon the vitals of their - fellow-citizens, and who might be expected to desert a - government whenever their interests should be detached - from it; if, in consequence of these circumstances, it - should become manifest that the risk which would be - run in attempting a revolution would be trifling, and - the evils which might be apprehended from it were far - less than those which were actually suffered and which - were daily increasing; in the name of God, I ask, what - principles are those which ought to restrain an injured - and insulted people from asserting their natural rights, - and from changing or even punishing their governors—that - is, their servants—who had abused their trust, or from - altering the whole form of their government, if it - appeared to be of a structure so liable to abuse?” - -As a Dissenter, subject to the operation of the Corporation and Test -Acts, and as a Unitarian, excluded from the benefit of the Toleration -Act, it is not surprising to find that Priestley had very definite -opinions about Ecclesiastical Establishments; the only wonder is that -these opinions were so moderate as the following passages show them to -have been:— - - “Ecclesiastical authority may have been necessary in the - infant state of society, and, for the same reason, it - may perhaps continue to be, in some degree, necessary as - long as society is imperfect; and therefore may not be - entirely abolished till civil governments have arrived - at a much greater degree of perfection. If, therefore, - I were asked whether I should approve of the immediate - dissolution of all the ecclesiastical establishments in - Europe, I should answer, No.... Let experiment be first - made of _alterations_, or, which is the same thing, of - _better establishments_ than the present. Let them be - reformed in many essential articles, and then not thrown - aside entirely till it be found by experience that no - good can be made of them.” - -Priestley goes on to suggest four such reforms of a capital nature:— - - “1. Let the Articles of Faith to be subscribed by - candidates for the ministry be greatly reduced. In - the formulary of the Church of England, might not - thirty-eight out of the thirty-nine be very well spared? - It is a reproach to any Christian establishment if every - man cannot claim the benefit of it who can say that he - believes in the religion of Jesus Christ as it is set - forth in the New Testament. You say the terms are so - general that even Deists would quibble and insinuate - themselves. I answer that all the articles which are - subscribed at present, by no means exclude Deists who - will prevaricate; and upon this scheme you would at least - exclude fewer honest men.”[25] - -The second reform suggested is the equalisation, in proportion to work -done, of the stipends of the clergy; the third, the exclusion of the -bishops from Parliament; and the fourth, complete toleration, so that -every man may enjoy the rights of a citizen, and be qualified to serve -his country, whether he belong to the Established Church or not. - -Opinions such as those I have quoted, respecting the duties and -the responsibilities of governors, are the commonplaces of modern -Liberalism; and Priestley’s views on Ecclesiastical Establishments -would, I fear, meet with but a cool reception, as altogether too -conservative, from a large proportion of the lineal descendants of the -people who taught their children to cry “Damn Priestley;” and, with -that love for the practical application of science which is the source -of the greatness of Birmingham, tried to set fire to the doctor’s house -with sparks from his own electrical machine; thereby giving the man -they called an incendiary and raiser of sedition against Church and -King, an appropriately experimental illustration of the nature of arson -and riot. - - -If I have succeeded in putting before you the main features of -Priestley’s work, its value will become apparent, when we compare the -condition of the English nation, as he knew it, with its present state. - -The fact that France has been for eighty-five years trying, without -much success, to right herself after the great storm of the Revolution, -is not unfrequently cited among us, as an indication of some inherent -incapacity for self-government among the French people. I think, -however, that Englishmen who argue thus, forget that, from the meeting -of the Long Parliament in 1640, to the last Stuart rebellion in 1745, -is a hundred and five years, and that, in the middle of the last -century, we had but just safely freed ourselves from our Bourbons and -all that they represented. The corruption of our state was as bad as -that of the Second Empire. Bribery was the instrument of government, -and peculation its reward. Four-fifths of the seats in the House of -Commons were more or less openly dealt with as property. A minister -had to consider the state of the vote market, and the sovereign secured -a sufficiency of “king’s friends” by payments allotted with retail, -rather than royal, sagacity. - -Barefaced and brutal immorality and intemperance pervaded the land, -from the highest to the lowest classes of society. The Established -Church was torpid, so far as it was not a scandal; but those who -dissented from it came within the meshes of the Act of Uniformity, the -Test Act, and the Corporation Act. By law, such a man as Priestley, -being a Unitarian, could neither teach nor preach, and was liable to -ruinous fines and long imprisonment.[26] In those days, the guns that -were pointed by the Church against the Dissenters were shotted. The law -was a cesspool of iniquity and cruelty. Adam Smith was a new prophet -whom few regarded, and commerce was hampered by idiotic impediments, -and ruined by still more absurd help, on the part of government. - -Birmingham, though already the centre of a considerable industry, was a -mere village as compared with its present extent. People who travelled -went about armed, by reason of the abundance of highwaymen and the -paucity and inefficiency of the police. Stage coaches had not reached -Birmingham, and it took three days to get to London. Even canals were a -recent and much opposed invention. - -Newton had laid the foundation of a mechanical conception of the -physical universe: Hartley, putting a modern face upon ancient -materialism, had extended that mechanical conception to psychology; -Linnæus and Haller were beginning to introduce method and order into -the chaotic accumulation of biological facts. But those parts of -physical science which deal with heat, electricity, and magnetism, -and above all, chemistry, in the modern sense, can hardly be said -to have had an existence. No one knew that two of the old elemental -bodies, air and water, are compounds, and that a third, fire, is not a -substance but a motion. The great industries that have grown out of the -applications of modern scientific discoveries had no existence, and the -man who should have foretold their coming into being in the days of his -son, would have been regarded as a mad enthusiast. - -In common with many other excellent persons, Priestley believed that -man is capable of reaching, and will eventually attain, perfection. -If the temperature of space presented no obstacle, I should be glad -to entertain the same idea; but judging from the past progress of our -species, I am afraid that the globe will have cooled down so far, -before the advent of this natural millennium, that we shall be, at -best, perfected Esquimaux. For all practical purposes, however, it -is enough that man may visibly improve his condition in the course -of a century or so. And, if the picture of the state of things -in Priestley’s time, which I have just drawn, have any pretence -to accuracy, I think it must be admitted that there has been a -considerable change for the better. - -I need not advert to the well-worn topic of material advancement, in -a place in which the very stones testify to that progress—in the town -of Watt and of Boulton. I will only remark, in passing, that material -advancement has its share in moral and intellectual progress. Becky -Sharp’s acute remark that it is not difficult to be virtuous on ten -thousand a year, has its application to nations; and it is futile to -expect a hungry and squalid population to be anything but violent and -gross. But as regards other than material welfare, although perfection -is not yet in sight—even from the mast-head—it is surely true that -things are much better than they were. - -Take the upper and middle classes as a whole, and it may be said -that open immorality and gross intemperance have vanished. Four and -six bottle men are as extinct as the dodo. Women of good repute -do not gamble, and talk modelled upon Dean Swift’s “Art of Polite -Conversation” would be tolerated in no decent kitchen. - -Members of the legislature are not to be bought; and constituents are -awakening to the fact that votes must not be sold—even for such trifles -as rabbits and tea and cake. Political power has passed into the hands -of the masses of the people. Those whom Priestley calls their servants -have recognised their position, and have requested the master to be -so good as to go to school and fit himself for the administration of -his property. No civil disability attaches to any one on theological -grounds, and the highest offices of the state are open to Papist, Jew, -or Secularist.[27] - -Whatever men’s opinions as to the policy of Establishment, no one -can hesitate to admit that the clergy of the Church are men of pure -life and conversation, zealous in the discharge of their duties; and, -at present, apparently, more bent on prosecuting one another than -on meddling with Dissenters. Theology itself has broadened so much, -that Anglican divines put forward doctrines more liberal than those -of Priestley; and, in our state-supported churches, one listener may -hear a sermon to which Bossuet might have given his approbation, while -another may hear a discourse in which Socrates would find nothing new. - -But great as these changes may be, they sink into insignificance -beside the progress of physical science, whether we consider the -improvement of methods of investigation, or the increase in bulk of -solid knowledge. Consider that the labours of Laplace, of Young, of -Davy, and of Faraday; of Cuvier, of Lamarck, and of Robert Brown; of -Von Baer, and of Schwann; of Smith and of Hutton, have all been carried -on since Priestley discovered oxygen; and consider that they are now -things of the past, concealed by the industry of those who have built -upon them, as the first founders of a coral reef are hidden beneath the -life’s work of their successors; consider that the methods of physical -science are slowly spreading into all investigations, and that proofs -as valid as those required by her canons of investigation, are being -demanded of all doctrines which ask for men’s assent; and you will -have a faint image of the astounding difference in this respect between -the nineteenth century and the eighteenth. - -If we ask what is the deeper meaning of all these vast changes, I -think there can be but one reply. They mean that reason has asserted -and exercised her primacy over all provinces of human activity: that -ecclesiastical authority has been relegated to its proper place; that -the good of the governed has been finally recognised as the end of -government, and the complete responsibility of governors to the people -as its means; and that the dependence of natural phenomena in general, -on the laws of action of what we call matter has become an axiom. - -But it was to bring these things about, and to enforce the recognition -of these truths, that Joseph Priestley laboured. If the nineteenth -century is other and better than the eighteenth, it is, in great -measure, to him and to such men as he, that we owe the change. If the -twentieth century is to be better than the nineteenth, it will be -because there are among us men who walk in Priestley’s footsteps. - -Such men are not those whom their own generation delights to honour; -such men, in fact, rarely trouble themselves about honour, but ask, -in another spirit than Falstaff’s, “What is honour? Who hath it? He -that died o’ Wednesday.” But whether Priestley’s lot be theirs, and a -future generation, in justice and in gratitude, set up their statues; -or whether their names and fame are blotted out from remembrance, -their work will live as long as time endures. To all eternity, the -sum of truth and right will have been increased by their means; to all -eternity, falsehood and injustice will be the weaker because they have -lived. - - - - -VI. - -ON THE METHOD OF ZADIG: - -RETROSPECTIVE PROPHECY AS A FUNCTION OF SCIENCE. - - “Une marque plus sûre que toutes celles de Zadig”—CUVIER.[28] - - -It is a usual and a commendable practice to preface the discussion of -the views of a philosophic thinker by some account of the man and of -the circumstances which shaped his life and coloured his way of looking -at things; but, though Zadig is cited in one of the most important -chapters of Cuvier’s greatest work, little is known about him, and that -little might perhaps be better authenticated than it is. - -It is said that he lived at Babylon in the time of King Moabdar; -but the name of Moabdar does not appear in the list of Babylonian -sovereigns brought to light by the patience and the industry of the -decipherers of cuneiform inscriptions in these later years; nor indeed -am I aware that there is any other authority for his existence than -that of the biographer of Zadig, one Arouet de Voltaire, among whose -more conspicuous merits strict historical accuracy is perhaps hardly -to be reckoned. - -Happily Zadig is in the position of a great many other philosophers. -What he was like when he was in the flesh, indeed whether he existed at -all, are matters of no great consequence. What we care about in a light -is that it shows the way, not whether it is lamp or candle, tallow or -wax. Our only real interest in Zadig lies in the conceptions of which -he is the putative father; and his biographer has stated these with so -much clearness and vivacious illustration, that we need hardly feel a -pang, even if critical research should prove King Moabdar and all the -rest of the story to be unhistorical, and reduce Zadig himself to the -shadowy condition of a solar myth. - -Voltaire tells us that, disenchanted with life by sundry domestic -misadventures, Zadig withdrew from the turmoil of Babylon to a secluded -retreat on the banks of the Euphrates, where he beguiled his solitude -by the study of nature. The manifold wonders of the world of life -had a particular attraction for the lonely student; incessant and -patient observation of the plants and animals about him sharpened -his naturally good powers of observation and of reasoning; until, at -length, he acquired a sagacity which enabled him to perceive endless -minute differences among objects which, to the untutored eye, appeared -absolutely alike. - -It might have been expected that this enlargement of the powers of the -mind and of its store of natural knowledge could tend to nothing but -the increase of a man’s own welfare and the good of his fellow-men. -But Zadig was fated to experience the vanity of such expectations. - - One day, walking near a little wood, he saw, hastening - that way, one of the Queen’s chief eunuchs, followed by - a troop of officials, who appeared to be in the greatest - anxiety, running hither and thither like men distraught, - in search of some lost treasure. - - “Young man,” cried the eunuch, “have you seen the Queen’s - dog?” Zadig answered modestly, “A bitch, I think, not - a dog.” “Quite right,” replied the eunuch; and Zadig - continued, “A very small spaniel who has lately had - puppies; she limps with the left foreleg, and has very - long ears.” “Ah! you have seen her then,” said the - breathless eunuch. “No,” answered Zadig, “I have not seen - her; and I really was not aware that the Queen possessed - a spaniel.” - - By an odd coincidence, at the very same time, the - handsomest horse in the King’s stables broke away from - his groom in the Babylonian plains. The grand huntsman - and all his staff were seeking the horse with as much - anxiety as the eunuch and his people the spaniel; and the - grand huntsman asked Zadig if he had not seen the King’s - horse go that way. - - “A first-rate galloper, small-hoofed, five feet high; - tail three feet and a half long; cheek pieces of the bit - of twenty-three carat gold; shoes silver?” said Zadig. - - “Which way did he go? Where is he?” cried the grand - huntsman. - - “I have not seen anything of the horse, and I never heard - of him before,” replied Zadig. - - The grand huntsman and the chief eunuch made sure that - Zadig had stolen both the King’s horse and the Queen’s - spaniel, so they haled him before the High Court of - Desterham, which at once condemned him to the knout, and - transportation for life to Siberia. But the sentence was - hardly pronounced when the lost horse and spaniel were - found. So the judges were under the painful necessity of - reconsidering their decision: but they fined Zadig four - hundred ounces of gold for saying he had seen that which - he had not seen. - - The first thing was to pay the fine; afterwards Zadig was - permitted to open his defence to the court, which he did - in the following terms: - - “Stars of justice, abysses of knowledge, mirrors - of truth, whose gravity is as that of lead, whose - inflexibility is as that of iron, who rival the diamond - in clearness, and possess no little affinity with gold; - since I am permitted to address your august assembly, I - swear by Ormuzd that I have never seen the respectable - lady dog of the queen, nor beheld the sacrosanct horse of - the King of Kings. - - “This is what happened. I was taking a walk towards the - little wood near which I subsequently had the honour to - meet the venerable chief eunuch and the most illustrious - grand huntsman. I noticed the track of an animal in the - sand, and it was easy to see that it was that of a small - dog. Long faint streaks upon the little elevations of - sand between the footmarks convinced me that it was a - she dog with pendent dugs, showing that she must have - had puppies not many days since. Other scrapings of - the sand, which always lay close to the marks of the - forepaws, indicated that she had very long ears; and, as - the imprint of one foot was always fainter than those of - the other three, I judged that the lady dog of our august - Queen was, if I may venture to say so, a little lame. - - “With respect to the horse of the King of Kings, permit - me to observe that, wandering through the paths which - traverse the wood, I noticed the marks of horse-shoes. - They were all equidistant. ‘Ah!’ said I, ‘this is a - famous galloper.’ In a narrow alley, only seven feet - wide, the dust upon the trunks of the trees was a little - disturbed at three feet and a half from the middle of - the path. ‘This horse,’ said I to myself, ‘had a tail - three feet and a half long, and, lashing it from one side - to the other, he has swept away the dust.’ Branches of - the trees met overhead at the height of five feet, and - under them I saw newly fallen leaves; so I knew that the - horse had brushed some of the branches, and was therefore - five feet high. As to his bit, it must have been made of - twenty-three carat gold, for he had rubbed it against - a stone, which turned out to be a touchstone, with the - properties of which I am familiar by experiment. Lastly, - by the marks which his shoes left upon pebbles of another - kind, I was led to think that his shoes were of fine - silver.” - - All the judges admired Zadig’s profound and subtle - discernment; and the fame of it reached even the King and - the Queen. From the ante-rooms to the presence-chamber, - Zadig’s name was in everybody’s mouth; and, although many - of the magi were of opinion that he ought to be burnt - as a sorcerer, the King commanded that the four hundred - ounces of gold which he had been fined should be restored - to him. So the officers of the court went in state with - the four hundred ounces; only they retained three hundred - and ninety-eight for legal expenses, and their servants - expected fees. - -Those who are interested in learning more of the fateful history of -Zadig must turn to the original; we are dealing with him only as a -philosopher, and this brief excerpt suffices for the exemplification of -the nature of his conclusions and of the method by which he arrived at -them. - -These conclusions may be said to be of the nature of retrospective -prophecies; though it is perhaps a little hazardous to employ -phraseology which perilously suggests a contradiction in terms—the -word “prophecy” being so constantly in ordinary use restricted to -“foretelling.” Strictly, however, the term prophecy as much applies to -outspeaking as to foretelling; and, even in the restricted sense of -“divination,” it is obvious that the essence of the prophetic operation -does not lie in its backward or forward relation to the course of time, -but in the fact that it is the apprehension of that which lies out of -the sphere of immediate knowledge; the seeing of that which to the -natural sense of the seer is invisible. - -The foreteller asserts that, at some future time, a properly situated -observer will witness certain events; the clairvoyant declares that, -at this present time, certain things are to be witnessed a thousand -miles away; the retrospective prophet (would that there were such a -word as “backteller!”) affirms that so many hours or years ago, such -and such things were to be seen. In all these cases, it is only the -relation to time which alters—the process of divination beyond the -limits of possible direct knowledge remains the same. - -No doubt it was their instinctive recognition of the analogy between -Zadig’s results and those obtained by authorised inspiration which -inspired the Babylonian magi with the desire to burn the philosopher. -Zadig admitted that he had never either seen or heard of the horse of -the king or of the spaniel of the queen; and yet he ventured to assert -in the most positive manner that animals answering to their description -did actually exist, and ran about the plains of Babylon. If his method -was good for the divination of the course of events ten hours old, why -should it not be good for those of ten years or ten centuries past; -nay, might it not extend to ten thousand years and justify the impious -in meddling with the traditions of Oannes and the fish, and all the -sacred foundations of Babylonian cosmogony? - -But this was not the worst. There was another consideration which -obviously dictated to the more thoughtful of the magi the propriety -of burning Zadig out of hand. His defence was worse than his offence. -It showed that his mode of divination was fraught with danger to -magianism in general. Swollen with the pride of human reason, he had -ignored the established canons of magian lore; and, trusting to what -after all was mere carnal common sense, he professed to lead men to -a deeper insight into nature than magian wisdom, with all its lofty -antagonism to everything common, had ever reached. What, in fact, lay -at the foundation of all Zadig’s arguments but the coarse commonplace -assumption, upon which every act of our daily lives is based, that we -may conclude from an effect to the pre-existence of a cause competent -to produce that effect? - -The tracks were exactly like those which dogs and horses leave; -therefore they were the effects of such animals as causes. The marks -at the sides of the fore prints of the dog track were exactly such -as would be produced by long trailing ears; therefore the dog’s long -ears were the causes of these marks—and so on. Nothing can be more -hopelessly vulgar, more unlike the majestic development of a system -of grandly unintelligible conclusions from sublimely inconceivable -premisses, such as delights the magian heart. In fact, Zadig’s method -was nothing but the method of all mankind. Retrospective prophecies, -far more astonishing for their minute accuracy than those of Zadig, are -familiar to those who have watched the daily life of nomadic people. - -From freshly broken twigs, crushed leaves, disturbed pebbles, and -imprints hardly discernible by the untrained eye, such graduates in -the University of Nature will divine, not only the fact that a party -has passed that way, but its strength, its composition, the course -it took, and the number of hours or days which have elapsed since it -passed. But they are able to do this because, like Zadig, they perceive -endless minute differences where untrained eyes discern nothing; and -because the unconscious logic of common sense compels them to account -for these effects by the causes which they know to be competent to -produce them. - -And such mere methodised savagery was to discover the hidden things -of nature better than _à priori_ deductions from the nature of -Ormuzd—perhaps to give a history of the past, in which Oannes would be -altogether ignored! Decidedly it were better to burn this man at once. - -If instinct, or an unwonted use of reason, led Moabdar’s magi to -this conclusion two or three thousand years ago, all that can be -said is that subsequent history has fully justified them. For the -rigorous application of Zadig’s logic to the results of accurate and -long-continued observation has founded all those sciences which -have been termed historical or palætiological, because they are -retrospectively prophetic and strive towards the reconstruction in -human imagination of events which have vanished and ceased to be. - -History, in the ordinary acceptation of the word, is based upon the -interpretation of documentary evidence; and documents would have no -evidential value unless historians were justified in their assumption -that they have come into existence by the operation of causes similar -to those of which documents are, in our present experience, the -effects. If a written history can be produced otherwise than by human -agency, or if the man who wrote a given document was actuated by other -than ordinary human motives, such documents are of no more evidential -value than so many arabesques. - -Archæology, which takes up the thread of history beyond the point at -which documentary evidence fails us, could have no existence, except -for our well-grounded confidence that monuments and works of art or -artifice, have never been produced by causes different in kind from -those to which they now owe their origin. And geology, which traces -back the course of history beyond the limits of archæology, could tell -us nothing except for the assumption that, millions of years ago, -water, heat, gravitation, friction, animal and vegetable life, caused -effects of the same kind as they do now. Nay, even physical astronomy, -in so far as it takes us back to the uttermost point of time which -palætiological science can reach, is founded upon the same assumption. -If the law of gravitation ever failed to be true, even to the smallest -extent, for that period, the calculations of the astronomer have no -application. - -The power of prediction, of prospective prophecy, is that which is -commonly regarded as the great prerogative of physical science. And -truly it is a wonderful fact that one can go into a shop and buy for -small price a book, the “Nautical Almanac,” which will foretell the -exact position to be occupied by one of Jupiter’s moons six months -hence; nay more, that, if it were worth while, the Astronomer Royal -could furnish us with as infallible a prediction applicable to 1980 or -2980. - -But astronomy is not less remarkable for its power of retrospective -prophecy. - -Thales, oldest of Greek philosophers, the dates of whose birth and -death are uncertain, but who flourished about 600 B.C., is said to have -foretold an eclipse of the sun which took place in his time during a -battle between the Medes and the Lydians. Sir George Airy has written a -very learned and interesting memoir[29] in which he proves that such an -eclipse was visible in Lydia on the afternoon of the 28th of May in the -year 585 B.C. - -No one doubts that, on the day and at the hour mentioned by the -Astronomer Royal, the people of Asia Minor saw the face of the sun -totally obscured. But, though we implicitly believe this retrospective -prophecy, it is incapable of verification. In the total absence of -historical records, it is impossible even to conceive any means of -ascertaining directly whether the eclipse of Thales happened or not. -All that can be said is, that the prospective prophecies of the -astronomer are always verified; and that, inasmuch as his retrospective -prophecies are the result of following backwards, the very same method -as that which invariably leads to verified results, when it is worked -forwards, there is as much reason for placing full confidence in the -one as in the other. Retrospective prophecy is therefore a legitimate -function of astronomical science; and if it is legitimate for one -science it is legitimate for all; the fundamental axiom on which -it rests, the constancy of the order of nature, being the common -foundation of all scientific thought. Indeed, if there can be grades -in legitimacy, certain branches of science have the advantage over -astronomy, in so far as their retrospective prophecies are not only -susceptible of verification, but are sometimes strikingly verified. - -Such a science exists in that application of the principles of biology -to the interpretation of the animal and vegetable remains imbedded -in the rocks which compose the surface of the globe, which is called -Palæontology. - -At no very distant time, the question whether these so-called “fossils” -were really the remains of animals and plants was hotly disputed. Very -learned persons maintained that they were nothing of the kind, but a -sort of concretion, or crystallisation, which had taken place within -the stone in which they are found; and which simulated the forms of -animal and vegetable life, just as frost on a window-pane imitates -vegetation. At the present day, it would probably be impossible -to find any sane advocate of this opinion; and the fact is rather -surprising, that among the people from whom the circle-squarers, -perpetual-motioners, flat-earth men and the like, are recruited, to say -nothing of table-turners and spirit-rappers, somebody has not perceived -the easy avenue to nonsensical notoriety open to any one who will take -up the good old doctrine, that fossils are all _lusus naturæ_. - -The position would be impregnable, inasmuch as it is quite impossible -to prove the contrary. If a man choose to maintain that a fossil -oyster shell, in spite of its correspondence, down to every minutest -particular, with that of an oyster fresh taken out of the sea, was -never tenanted by a living oyster, but is a mineral concretion, there -is no demonstrating his error. All that can be done is to show him -that, by a parity of reasoning, he is bound to admit that a heap of -oyster shells outside a fishmonger’s door may also be “sports of -nature,” and that a mutton bone in a dust-bin may have had the like -origin. And when you cannot prove that people are wrong, but only that -they are absurd, the best course is to let them alone. - -The whole fabric of palæontology, in fact, falls to the ground unless -we admit the validity of Zadig’s great principle, that like effects -imply like causes; and that the process of reasoning from a shell, or -a tooth, or a bone, to the nature of the animal to which it belonged, -rests absolutely on the assumption that the likeness of this shell, -or tooth, or bone, to that of some animal with which we are already -acquainted, is such that we are justified in inferring a corresponding -degree of likeness in the rest of the two organisms. It is on this -very simple principle, and not upon imaginary laws of physiological -correlation, about which, in most cases, we know nothing whatever, that -the so-called restorations of the palæontologist are based. - -Abundant illustrations of this truth will occur to every one who is -familiar with palæontology; none is more suitable than the case of the -so-called _Belemnites_. In the early days of the study of fossils, -this name was given to certain elongated stony bodies, ending at one -extremity in a conical point, and truncated at the other, which were -commonly reputed to be thunderbolts, and as such to have descended -from the sky. They are common enough in some parts of England; and, in -the condition in which they are ordinarily found, it might be difficult -to give satisfactory reasons for denying them to be merely mineral -bodies. - -They appear, in fact, to consist of nothing but concentric layers -of carbonate of lime, disposed in subcrystalline fibres, or prisms, -perpendicular to the layers. Among a great number of specimens of these -Belemnites, however, it was soon observed that some showed a conical -cavity at the blunt end; and, in still better preserved specimens, this -cavity appeared to be divided into chambers by delicate saucer-shaped -partitions, situated at regular intervals one above the other. Now -there is no mineral body which presents any structure comparable to -this, and the conclusion suggested itself that the Belemnites must be -the effects of causes other than those which are at work in inorganic -nature. On close examination, the saucer-shaped partitions were proved -to be all perforated at one point, and the perforations being situated -exactly in the same line, the chambers were seen to be traversed by -a canal, or _siphuncle_, which thus connected the smallest or apical -chamber with the largest. There is nothing like this in the vegetable -world; but an exactly corresponding structure is met with in the -shells of two kinds of existing animals, the pearly _Nautilus_ and -the _Spirula_, and only in them. These animals belong to the same -division—the _Cephalopoda_—as the cuttle-fish, the squid, and the -octopus. But they are the only existing members of the group which -possess chambered, siphunculated shells; and it is utterly impossible -to trace any physiological connection between the very peculiar -structural characters of a cephalopod and the presence of a chambered -shell. In fact, the squid has, instead of any such shell, a horny -“pen,” the cuttle-fish has the so-called “cuttle-bone,” and the octopus -has no shell, or, at most, a mere rudiment of one. - -Nevertheless, seeing that there is nothing in nature at all like the -chambered shell of the Belemnite, except the shells of the _Nautilus_ -and of the _Spirula_, it was legitimate to prophesy that the animal -from which the fossil proceeded must have belonged to the group of the -_Cephalopoda_. _Nautilus_ and _Spirula_ are both very rare animals, -but the progress of investigation brought to light the singular fact, -that, though each has the characteristic cephalopodous organisation, it -is very different from the other. The shell of _Nautilus_ is external, -that of _Spirula_ internal; _Nautilus_ has four gills, _Spirula_ -two; _Nautilus_ has multitudinous tentacles, _Spirula_ has only ten -arms beset with horny rimmed suckers; _Spirula_, like the squids and -cuttle-fishes, which it closely resembles, has a bag of ink which it -squirts out to cover its retreat when alarmed; _Nautilus_ has none. - -No amount of physiological reasoning could enable any one to say -whether the animal which fabricated the Belemnite was more like -_Nautilus_, or more like _Spirula_. But the accidental discovery of -Belemnites in due connection with black elongated masses which were -certainly fossilised ink-bags, inasmuch as the ink could be ground up -and used for painting as well as if it were recent sepia, settled the -question; and it became perfectly safe to prophesy that the creature -which fabricated the Belemnite was a two-gilled cephalopod with suckers -on its arms, and with all the other essential features of our living -squids, cuttle-fishes, and _Spirulæ_. The palæontologist was, by this -time, able to speak as confidently about the animal of the Belemnite, -as Zadig was respecting the queen’s spaniel. He could give a very fair -description of its external appearance, and even enter pretty fully -into the details of its internal organisation, and yet could declare -that neither he, nor any one else, had ever seen one. And as the -queen’s spaniel was found, so happily has the animal of the Belemnite; -a few exceptionally preserved specimens having been discovered, which -completely verify the retrospective prophecy of those who interpreted -the facts of the case by due application of the method of Zadig. - -These Belemnites flourished in prodigious abundance in the seas of the -mesozoic or secondary age of the world’s geological history; but no -trace of them has been found in any of the tertiary deposits, and they -appear to have died out towards the close of the mesozoic epoch. The -method of Zadig, therefore, applies in full force to the events of a -period which is immeasurably remote, which long preceded the origin -of the most conspicuous mountain masses of the present world, and -the deposition, at the bottom of the ocean, of the rocks which form -the greater part of the soil of our present continents. The Euphrates -itself, at the mouth of which Oannes landed, is a thing of yesterday -compared with a Belemnite; and even the liberal chronology of Magian -cosmogony fixes the beginning of the world only at a time when other -applications of Zadig’s method afford convincing evidence that, could -we have been there to see, things would have looked very much as they -do now. Truly the magi were wise in their generation; they foresaw -rightly that this pestilent application of the principles of common -sense, inaugurated by Zadig, would be their ruin. - -But it may be said that the method of Zadig, which is simple reasoning -from analogy, does not account for the most striking feats of modern -palæontology—the reconstruction of entire animals from a tooth or -perhaps a fragment of a bone; and it may be justly urged that Cuvier, -the great master of this kind of investigation, gave a very different -account of the process which yielded such remarkable results. - -Cuvier is not the first man of ability who has failed to make his -own mental processes clear to himself, and he will not be the last. -The matter can be easily tested. Search the eight volumes of the -“Recherches sur les Ossemens fossiles” from cover to cover, and -nothing but the application of the method of Zadig will be found in -the arguments by which a fragment of a skeleton is made to reveal the -characters of the animal to which it belonged. - -There is one well-known case which may represent all. It is an -excellent illustration of Cuvier’s sagacity, and he evidently takes -some pride in telling his story about it. A split slab of stone arrived -from the quarries of Montmartre, the two halves of which contained the -greater part of the skeleton of a small animal. On careful examinations -of the characters of the teeth and of the lower jaw, which happened -to be exposed, Cuvier assured himself that they presented such a very -close resemblance to the corresponding parts in the living opossums -that he at once assigned the fossil to that genus. - -Now the opossums are unlike most mammals in that they possess two -bones attached to the fore part of the pelvis, which are commonly -called “marsupial bones.” The name is a misnomer, originally conferred -because it was thought that these bones have something to do with the -support of the pouch, or marsupium, with which some, but not all, of -the opossums are provided. As a matter of fact, they have nothing to do -with the support of the pouch, and they exist as much in those opossums -which have no pouches as in those which possess them. In truth, no one -knows what the use of these bones may be, nor has any valid theory -of their physiological import yet been suggested. And if we have no -knowledge of the physiological importance of the bones themselves, it -is obviously absurd to pretend that we are able to give physiological -reasons why the presence of these bones is associated with certain -peculiarities of the teeth and of the jaws. If any one knows why four -molar teeth and an inflected angle of the jaw are very generally found -along with marsupial bones, he has not yet communicated that knowledge -to the world. - -If, however, Zadig was right in concluding from the likeness of the -hoof-prints which he observed to a horse’s that the creature which made -them had a tail like that of a horse, Cuvier, seeing that the teeth -and jaw of his fossil were just like those of an opossum, had the same -right to conclude that the pelvis would also be like an opossum’s; and -so strong was his conviction that this retrospective prophecy, about -an animal which he had never seen before, and which had been dead and -buried for millions of years, would be verified, that he went to work -upon the slab which contained the pelvis in confident expectation of -finding and laying bare the “marsupial bones,” to the satisfaction of -some persons whom he had invited to witness their disinterment. As -he says:—“Cette opération se fit en présence de quelques personnes à -qui j’en avais annoncé d’avance le résultat, dans l’intention de leur -prouver par le fait la justice de nos théories zoologiques; puisque le -vrai cachet d’une théorie est sans contredit la faculté qu’elle donne -de prévoir les phénomènes.” - -In the “Ossemens fossiles” Cuvier leaves his paper just as it first -appeared in the “Annales du Muséum,” as “a curious monument of the -force of zoological laws and of the use which may be made of them.” - -Zoological laws truly, but not physiological laws. If one sees a -live dog’s head, it is extremely probable that a dog’s tail is not -far off, though nobody can say why that sort of head and that sort -of tail go together; what physiological connection there is between -the two. So, in the case of the Montmartre fossil, Cuvier, finding a -thorough opossum’s head, concluded that the pelvis also would be like -an opossum’s. But, most assuredly, the most advanced physiologist of -the present day could throw no light on the question why these are -associated, nor could pretend to affirm that the existence of the one -is necessarily connected with that of the other. In fact, had it so -happened that the pelvis of the fossil had been originally exposed, -while the head lay hidden, the presence of the “marsupial bones,” -however like they might have been to an opossum’s, would by no means -have warranted the prediction that the skull would turn out to be that -of the opossum. It might just as well have been like that of some -other Marsupial; or even like that of the totally different group of -Monotremes, of which the only living representatives are the _Echidna_ -and the _Ornithorhynchus_. - -For all practical purposes, however, the empirical laws of -co-ordination of structures, which are embodied in the generalisations -of morphology, may be confidently trusted, if employed with due -caution, to lead to a just interpretation of fossil remains; or, in -other words, we may look for the verification of the retrospective -prophecies which are based upon them. - -And if this be the case, the late advances which have been made in -palæontological discovery open out a new field for such prophecies. -For it has been ascertained with respect to many groups of animals, -that, as we trace them back in time, their ancestors gradually cease -to exhibit those special modifications which at present characterise -the type, and more nearly embody the general plan of the group to which -they belong. - -Thus, in the well-known case of the horse, the toes which are -suppressed in the living horse are found to be more and more complete -in the older members of the group, until, at the bottom of the Tertiary -series of America, we find an equine animal which has four toes in -front and three behind. No remains of the horse tribe are at present -known from any Mesozoic deposit. Yet who can doubt that, whenever a -sufficiently extensive series of lacustrine and fluviatile beds of that -age becomes known, the lineage which has been traced thus far will be -continued by equine quadrupeds with an increasing number of digits, -until the horse type merges in the five-toed form towards which these -gradations point? - -But the argument which holds good for the horse, holds good, not only -for all mammals, but for the whole animal world. And as the study of -the pedigrees, or lines of evolution, to which, at present, we have -access, brings to light, as it assuredly will do, the laws of that -process, we shall be able to reason from the facts with which the -geological record furnishes us to those which have hitherto remained, -and many of which, perhaps, may for ever remain, hidden. The same -method of reasoning which enables us, when furnished with a fragment of -an extinct animal, to prophesy the character which the whole organism -exhibited, will, sooner or later, enable us, when we know a few of the -later terms of a genealogical series, to predict the nature of the -earlier terms. - -In no very distant future, the method of Zadig, applied to a greater -body of facts than the present generation is fortunate enough to -handle, will enable the biologist to reconstruct the scheme of life -from its beginning, and to speak as confidently of the character of -long extinct living beings, no trace of which has been preserved, as -Zadig did of the queen’s spaniel and the king’s horse. Let us hope that -they may be better rewarded for their toil and their sagacity than was -the Babylonian philosopher; for perhaps, by that time, the Magi also -may be reckoned among the members of a forgotten Fauna, extinguished in -the struggle for existence against their great rival, common sense. - - - - -VII. - -ON THE BORDER TERRITORY BETWEEN THE ANIMAL AND THE -VEGETABLE KINGDOMS. - - -In the whole history of science there is nothing more remarkable than -the rapidity of the growth of biological knowledge within the last -half-century, and the extent of the modification which has thereby been -effected in some of the fundamental conceptions of the naturalist. - -In the second edition of the “Règne Animal,” published in 1828, -Cuvier devotes a special section to the “Division of Organised Beings -into Animals and Vegetables,” in which the question is treated with -that comprehensiveness of knowledge and clear critical judgment -which characterise his writings, and justify us in regarding them -as representative expressions of the most extensive, if not the -profoundest, knowledge of his time. He tells us that living beings have -been subdivided from the earliest times into _animated beings_, which -possess sense and motion, and _inanimated beings_, which are devoid of -these functions, and simply vegetate. - -Although the roots of plants direct themselves towards moisture, and -their leaves towards air and light,—although the parts of some plants -exhibit oscillating movements without any perceptible cause, and the -leaves of others retract when touched,—yet none of these movements -justify the ascription to plants of perception or of will. From the -mobility of animals, Cuvier, with his characteristic partiality for -teleological reasoning, deduces the necessity of the existence in them -of an alimentary cavity, or reservoir of food, whence their nutrition -may be drawn by the vessels, which are a sort of internal roots; and, -in the presence of this alimentary cavity, he naturally sees the -primary and the most important distinction between animals and plants. - -Following out his teleological argument, Cuvier remarks that the -organisation of this cavity and its appurtenances must needs vary -according to the nature of the aliment, and the operations which it -has to undergo, before it can be converted into substances fitted for -absorption; while the atmosphere and the earth supply plants with -juices ready prepared, and which can be absorbed immediately. As the -animal body required to be independent of heat and of the atmosphere, -there were no means by which the motion of its fluids could be produced -by internal causes. Hence arose the second great distinctive character -of animals, or the circulatory system, which is less important than the -digestive, since it was unnecessary, and therefore is absent, in the -more simple animals. - -Animals further needed muscles for locomotion and nerves for -sensibility. Hence, says Cuvier, it was necessary that the chemical -composition of the animal body should be more complicated than that of -the plant; and it is so, inasmuch as an additional substance, nitrogen, -enters into it as an essential element; while, in plants, nitrogen is -only accidentally joined with the three other fundamental constituents -of organic beings—carbon, hydrogen, and oxygen. Indeed, he afterwards -affirms that nitrogen is peculiar to animals; and herein he places the -third distinction between the animal and the plant. The soil and the -atmosphere supply plants with water, composed of hydrogen and oxygen; -air, consisting of nitrogen and oxygen; and carbonic acid, containing -carbon and oxygen. They retain the hydrogen and the carbon, exhale the -superfluous oxygen, and absorb little or no nitrogen. The essential -character of vegetable life is the exhalation of oxygen, which is -effected through the agency of light. Animals, on the contrary, -derive their nourishment either directly or indirectly from plants. -They get rid of the superfluous hydrogen and carbon, and accumulate -nitrogen. The relations of plants and animals to the atmosphere are -therefore inverse. The plant withdraws water and carbonic acid from -the atmosphere, the animal contributes both to it. Respiration—that -is, the absorption of oxygen and the exhalation of carbonic acid—is -the specially animal function of animals, and constitutes their fourth -distinctive character. - -Thus wrote Cuvier in 1828. But, in the fourth and fifth decades of -this century, the greatest and most rapid revolution which biological -science has ever undergone was effected by the application of the -modern microscope to the investigation of organic structure; by the -introduction of exact and easily manageable methods of conducting the -chemical analysis of organic compounds; and finally, by the employment -of instruments of precision for the measurement of the physical forces -which are at work in the living economy. - -That the semi-fluid contents (which we now term protoplasm) of the -cells of certain plants, such as the _Charæ_, are in constant and -regular motion, was made out by Bonaventura Corti a century ago; but -the fact, important as it was, fell into oblivion, and had to be -rediscovered by Treviranus in 1807. Robert Brown noted the more complex -motions of the protoplasm in the cells of _Tradescantia_ in 1831; and -now such movements of the living substance of plants are well known to -be some of the most widely-prevalent phenomena of vegetable life. - -Agardh, and other of the botanists of Cuvier’s generation, who occupied -themselves with the lower plants, had observed that, under particular -circumstances, the contents of the cells of certain water-weeds were -set free, and moved about with considerable velocity, and with all the -appearances of spontaneity, as locomotive bodies, which, from their -similarity to animals of simple organisation, were called “zoospores.” -Even as late as 1845, however, a botanist of Schleiden’s eminence dealt -very sceptically with these statements; and his scepticism was the more -justified, since Ehrenberg, in his elaborate and comprehensive work -on the _Infusoria_, had declared the greater number of what are now -recognised as locomotive plants to be animals. - -At the present day, innumerable plants and free plant cells are known -to pass the whole or part of their lives in an actively locomotive -condition, in no wise distinguishable from that of one of the simpler -animals; and, while in this condition, their movements are, to all -appearance, as spontaneous—as much the product of volition—as those of -such animals. - -Hence the teleological argument for Cuvier’s first diagnostic -character—the presence in animals of an alimentary cavity, or internal -pocket, in which they can carry about their nutriment—has broken -down, so far, at least, as his mode of stating it goes. And, with the -advance of microscopic anatomy, the universality of the fact itself -among animals has ceased to be predicable. Many animals of even complex -structure, which live parasitically within others, are wholly devoid -of an alimentary cavity. Their food is provided for them, not only -ready cooked, but ready digested, and the alimentary canal, become -superfluous, has disappeared. Again, the males of most Rotifers have no -digestive apparatus; as a German naturalist has remarked, they devote -themselves entirely to the “Minnedienst,” and are to be reckoned among -the few realisations of the Byronic ideal of a lover. Finally, amidst -the lowest forms of animal life, the speck of gelatinous protoplasm, -which constitutes the whole body, has no permanent digestive cavity or -mouth, but takes in its food anywhere; and digests, so to speak, all -over its body. - -But although Cuvier’s leading diagnosis of the animal from the plant -will not stand a strict test, it remains one of the most constant of -the distinctive characters of animals. And, if we substitute for the -possession of an alimentary cavity, the power of taking solid nutriment -into the body and there digesting it, the definition so changed -will cover all animals, except certain parasites, and the few and -exceptional cases of non-parasitic animals which do not feed at all. On -the other hand, the definition thus amended will exclude all ordinary -vegetable organisms. - -Cuvier himself practically gives up his second distinctive mark when he -admits that it is wanting in the simpler animals. - -The third distinction is based on a completely erroneous conception of -the chemical differences and resemblances between the constituents of -animal and vegetable organisms, for which Cuvier is not responsible, -as it was current among contemporary chemists. It is now established -that nitrogen is as essential a constituent of vegetable as of animal -living matter; and that the latter is, chemically speaking, just as -complicated as the former. Starchy substances, cellulose and sugar, -once supposed to be exclusively confined to plants, are now known to -be regular and normal products of animals. Amylaceous and saccharine -substances are largely manufactured, even by the highest animals; -cellulose is widespread as a constituent of the skeletons of the lower -animals; and it is probable that amyloid substances are universally -present in the animal organism, though not in the precise form of -starch. - -Moreover, although it remains true that there is an inverse relation -between the green plant in sunshine and the animal, in so far as, under -these circumstances, the green plant decomposes carbonic acid and -exhales oxygen, while the animal absorbs oxygen and exhales carbonic -acid; yet, the exact researches of the modern chemical investigators -of the physiological processes of plants have clearly demonstrated the -fallacy of attempting to draw any general distinction between animals -and vegetables on this ground. In fact, the difference vanishes with -the sunshine, even in the case of the green plant; which, in the dark, -absorbs oxygen and gives out carbonic acid like any animal.[30] On -the other hand, those plants, such as the fungi, which contain no -chlorophyll and are not green, are always, so far as respiration is -concerned, in the exact position of animals. They absorb oxygen and -give out carbonic acid. - -Thus, by the progress of knowledge, Cuvier’s fourth distinction -between the animal and the plant has been as completely invalidated as -the third and second; and even the first can be retained only in a -modified form and subject to exceptions. - -But has the advance of biology simply tended to break down old -distinctions, without establishing new ones? - -With a qualification, to be considered presently, the answer to this -question is undoubtedly in the affirmative. The famous researches of -Schwann and Schleiden in 1837 and the following years, founded the -modern science of histology, or that branch of anatomy which deals -with the ultimate visible structure of organisms, as revealed by -the microscope; and, from that day to this, the rapid improvement -of methods of investigation, and the energy of a host of accurate -observers, have given greater and greater breadth and firmness to -Schwann’s great generalisation, that a fundamental unity of structure -obtains in animals and plants; and that, however diverse may be the -fabrics, or _tissues_, of which their bodies are composed, all these -varied structures result from the metamorphosis of morphological units -(termed _cells_, in a more general sense than that in which the word -“cells” was at first employed), which are not only similar in animals -and in plants respectively, but present a close resemblance, when those -of animals and those of plants are compared together. - -The contractility which is the fundamental condition of locomotion, -has not only been discovered to exist far more widely among plants -than was formerly imagined; but, in plants, the act of contraction has -been found to be accompanied, as Dr. Burdon Sanderson’s interesting -investigations have shown, by a disturbance of the electrical state of -the contractile substance, comparable to that which was found by Du -Bois Reymond to be a concomitant of the activity of ordinary muscle in -animals. - -Again, I know of no test by which the reaction of the leaves of the -Sundew and of other plants to stimuli, so fully and carefully studied -by Mr. Darwin, can be distinguished from those acts of contraction -following upon stimuli, which are called “reflex” in animals. - -On each lobe of the bilobed leaf of Venus’s fly trap (_Dionæa -muscipula_) are three delicate filaments which stand out at right angle -from the surface of the leaf. Touch one of them with the end of a fine -human hair and the lobes of the leaf instantly close together[31] in -virtue of an act of contraction of part of their substance, just as the -body of a snail contracts into its shell when one of its “horns” is -irritated. - -The reflex action of the snail is the result of the presence of a -nervous system in the animal. A molecular change takes place in the -nerve of the tentacle, is propagated to the muscles by which the body -is retracted, and causing them to contract, the act of retraction -is brought about. Of course the similarity of the acts does not -necessarily involve the conclusion that the mechanism by which they are -effected is the same; but it suggests a suspicion of their identity -which needs careful testing. - -The results of recent inquiries into the structure of the nervous -system of animals converge towards the conclusion that the nerve -fibres, which we have hitherto regarded as ultimate elements of nervous -tissue, are not such, but are simply the visible aggregations of vastly -more attenuated filaments, the diameter of which dwindles down to the -limits of our present microscopic vision, greatly as these have been -extended by modern improvements of the microscope; and that a nerve -is, in its essence, nothing but a linear tract of specially modified -protoplasm between two points of an organism—one of which is able to -affect the other by means of the communication so established. Hence, -it is conceivable that even the simplest living being may possess a -nervous system. And the question whether plants are provided with a -nervous system or not, thus acquires a new aspect, and presents the -histologist and physiologist with a problem of extreme difficulty, -which must be attacked from a new point of view and by the aid of -methods which have yet to be invented. - -Thus it must be admitted that plants may be contractile and locomotive; -that, while locomotive, their movements may have as much appearance -of spontaneity as those of the lowest animals; and that many exhibit -actions, comparable to those which are brought about by the agency of a -nervous system in animals. And it must be allowed to be possible that -further research may reveal the existence of something comparable to a -nervous system in plants. So that I know not where we can hope to find -any absolute distinction between animals and plants, unless we return -to their mode of nutrition, and inquire whether certain differences of -a more occult character than those imagined to exist by Cuvier, and -which certainly hold good for the vast majority of animals and plants, -are of universal application. - -A bean may be supplied with water in which salts of ammonia and -certain other mineral salts are dissolved in due proportion; with -atmospheric air containing its ordinary minute dose of carbonic acid; -and with nothing else but sunlight and heat. Under these circumstances, -unnatural as they are, with proper management, the bean will thrust -forth its radicle and its plumule; the former will grow down into -roots, the latter grow up into the stem and leaves of a vigorous bean -plant; and this plant will, in due time, flower and produce its crop of -beans, just as if it were grown in the garden or in the field. - -The weight of the nitrogenous protein compounds, of the oily, starchy, -saccharine and woody substances contained in the full-grown plant -and its seeds, will be vastly greater than the weight of the same -substances contained in the bean from which it sprang. But nothing has -been supplied to the bean save water, carbonic acid, ammonia, potash, -lime, iron, and the like, in combination with phosphoric, sulphuric, -and other acids. Neither protein, nor fat, nor starch, nor sugar, nor -any substance in the slightest degree resembling them, has formed part -of the food of the bean. But the weights of the carbon, hydrogen, -oxygen, nitrogen, phosphorus, sulphur, and other elementary bodies -contained in the bean-plant, and in the seeds which it produces, are -exactly equivalent to the weights of the same elements which have -disappeared from the materials supplied to the bean during its growth. -Whence it follows that the bean has taken in only the raw materials of -its fabric, and has manufactured them into bean stuffs. - -The bean has been able to perform this great chemical feat by the -help of its green colouring matter, or chlorophyll; for it is only -the green parts of the plant which, under the influence of sunlight, -have the marvellous power of decomposing carbonic acid, setting free -the oxygen and laying hold of the carbon which it contains. In fact, -the bean obtains two of the absolutely indispensable elements of its -substance from two distinct sources; the watery solution, in which its -roots are plunged, contains nitrogen but no carbon; the air, to which -the leaves are exposed, contains carbon, but its nitrogen is in the -state of a free gas, in which condition the bean can make no use of -it;[32] and the chlorophyll[33] is the apparatus by which the carbon is -extracted from the atmospheric carbonic acid—the leaves being the chief -laboratories in which this operation is effected. - -The great majority of conspicuous plants are, as everybody knows, -green; and this arises from the abundance of their chlorophyll. -The few which contain no chlorophyll and are colourless, are unable -to extract the carbon which they require from atmospheric carbonic -acid, and lead a parasitic existence upon other plants; but it by no -means follows, often as the statement has been repeated, that the -manufacturing power of plants depends on their chlorophyll, and its -interaction with the rays of the sun. On the contrary, it is easily -demonstrated, as Pasteur first proved, that the lowest fungi, devoid -of chlorophyll, or of any substitute for it, as they are, nevertheless -possess the characteristic manufacturing powers of plants in a very -high degree. Only it is necessary that they should be supplied with -a different kind of raw material; as they cannot extract carbon from -carbonic acid, they must be furnished with something else that contains -carbon. Tartaric acid is such a substance; and if a single spore of -the commonest and most troublesome of moulds—_Penicillium_—be sown -in a saucerful of water, in which tartrate of ammonia, with a small -percentage of phosphates and sulphates is contained, and kept warm, -whether in the dark or exposed to light, it will, in a short time, give -rise to a thick crust of mould, which contains many million times the -weight of the original spore, in protein compounds and cellulose. Thus -we have a very wide basis of fact for the generalisation that plants -are essentially characterised by their manufacturing capacity—by their -power of working up mere mineral matters into complex organic compounds. - -Contrariwise, there is a no less wide foundation for the -generalisation that animals, as Cuvier puts it, depend directly or -indirectly upon plants for the materials of their bodies; that is, -either they are herbivorous, or they eat other animals which are -herbivorous. - -But for what constituents of their bodies are animals thus dependent -upon plants? Certainly not for their horny matter; nor for chondrin, -the proximate chemical element of cartilage; nor for gelatine; nor for -syntonin, the constituent of muscle; nor for their nervous or biliary -substances; nor for their amyloid matters; nor, necessarily, for their -fats. - -It can be experimentally demonstrated that animals can make these for -themselves. But that which they cannot make, but must, in all known -cases, obtain directly or indirectly from plants, is the peculiar -nitrogenous matter, protein. Thus the plant is the ideal _prolétaire_ -of the living world, the worker who produces; the animal, the ideal -aristocrat, who mostly occupies himself in consuming, after the manner -of that noble representative of the line of Zähdarm, whose epitaph is -written in _Sartor Resartus_. - -Here is our last hope of finding a sharp line of demarcation between -plants and animals; for, as I have already hinted, there is a border -territory between the two kingdoms, a sort of no-man’s-land, the -inhabitants of which certainly cannot be discriminated and brought to -their proper allegiance in any other way. - -Some months ago, Professor Tyndall asked me to examine a drop of -infusion of hay, placed under an excellent and powerful microscope, -and to tell him what I thought some organisms visible in it were. -I looked and observed, in the first place, multitudes of _Bacteria_ -moving about with their ordinary intermittent spasmodic wriggles. As -to the vegetable nature of these there is now no doubt. Not only does -the close resemblance of the _Bacteria_ to unquestionable plants, -such as the _Oscillatoriæ_, and lower forms of _Fungi_, justify this -conclusion, but the manufacturing test settles the question at once. It -is only needful to add a minute drop of fluid containing _Bacteria_, -to water in which tartrate, phosphate, and sulphate of ammonia are -dissolved; and, in a very short space of time, the clear fluid becomes -milky by reason of their prodigious multiplication, which, of course, -implies the manufacture of living Bacterium-stuff out of these merely -saline matters. - -But other active organisms, very much larger than the _Bacteria_, -attaining in fact the comparatively gigantic dimensions of 1/3000 of an -inch or more, incessantly crossed the field of view. Each of these had -a body shaped like a pear, the small end being slightly incurved and -produced into a long curved filament, or _cilium_, of extreme tenuity. -Behind this, from the concave side of the incurvation, proceeded -another long cilium, so delicate as to be discernible only by the use -of the highest powers and careful management of the light. In the -centre of the pear-shaped body a clear round space could occasionally -be discerned, but not always; and careful watching showed that this -clear vacuity appeared gradually, and then shut up and disappeared -suddenly, at regular intervals. Such a structure is of common -occurrence among the lowest plants and animals, and is known as a -_contractile vacuole_. - -The little creature thus described sometimes propelled itself with -great activity, with a curious rolling motion, by the lashing of the -front cilium, while the second cilium trailed behind; sometimes it -anchored itself by the hinder cilium and was spun round by the working -of the other, its motions resembling those of an anchor buoy in a heavy -sea. Sometimes, when two were in full career towards one another, each -would appear dexterously to get out of the other’s way; sometimes a -crowd would assemble and jostle one another, with as much semblance of -individual effort as a spectator on the Grands Mulets might observe -with a telescope among the specks representing men in the valley of -Chamounix. - -The spectacle, though always surprising, was not new to me. So my -reply to the question put to me was, that these organisms were what -biologists call _Monads_, and though they might be animals, it was -also possible that they might, like the _Bacteria_, be plants. My -friend received my verdict with an expression which showed a sad want -of respect for authority. He would as soon believe that a sheep was -a plant. Naturally piqued by this want of faith, I have thought a -good deal over the matter; and as I still rest in the lame conclusion -I originally expressed, and must even now confess that I cannot -certainly say whether this creature is an animal or a plant, I think -it may be well to state the grounds of my hesitation at length. But, -in the first place, in order that I may conveniently distinguish -this “Monad” from the multitude of other things which go by the same -designation, I must give it a name of its own. I think (though, for -reasons which need not be stated at present, I am not quite sure) -that it is identical with the species _Monas lens_, as defined by the -eminent French microscopist Dujardin, though his magnifying power was -probably insufficient to enable him to see that it is curiously like -a much larger form of monad which he has named _Heteromita_. I shall, -therefore, call it not _Monas_, but _Heteromita lens_. - -I have been unable to devote to my _Heteromita_ the prolonged study -needful to work out its whole history, which would involve weeks, or -it may be months, of unremitting attention. But I the less regret this -circumstance, as some remarkable observations recently published by -Messrs. Dallinger and Drysdale[34] on certain Monads, relate, in part, -to a form so similar to my _Heteromita lens_, that the history of the -one may be used to illustrate that of the other. These most patient -and painstaking observers, who employed the highest attainable powers -of the microscope and, relieving one another, kept watch day and night -over the same individual monads, have been enabled to trace out the -whole history of their _Heteromita_; which they found in infusions of -the heads of fishes of the Cod tribe. - -Of the four monads described and figured by these investigators, -one, as I have said, very closely resembles _Heteromita lens_ in -every particular, except that it has a separately distinguishable -central particle or “nucleus,” which is not certainly to be made out -in _Heteromita lens_; and that nothing is said by Messrs. Dallinger -and Drysdale of the existence of a contractile vacuole in this monad, -though they describe it in another. - -Their _Heteromita_, however, multiplied rapidly by fission. Sometimes -a transverse constriction appeared; the hinder half developed a new -cilium, and the hinder cilium gradually split from its base to its -free end, until it was divided into two; a process which, considering -the fact that this fine filament cannot be much more than 1/100000 -of an inch in diameter, is wonderful enough. The constriction of the -body extended inwards until the two portions were united by a narrow -isthmus; finally, they separated and each swam away by itself, a -complete _Heteromita_, provided with its two cilia. Sometimes the -constriction took a longitudinal direction, with the same ultimate -result. In each case the process occupied not more than six or seven -minutes. At this rate, a single _Heteromita_ would give rise to a -thousand like itself in the course of an hour, to about a million in -two hours, and to a number greater than the generally assumed number -of human beings now living in the world in three hours; or, if we give -each _Heteromita_ an hour’s enjoyment of individual existence, the same -result will be obtained in about a day. The apparent suddenness of the -appearance of multitudes of such organisms as these, in any nutritive -fluid to which one obtains access, is thus easily explained. - -During these processes of multiplication by fission, the _Heteromita_ -remains active; but sometimes another mode of fission occurs. The body -becomes rounded and quiescent, or nearly so; and, while in this resting -state, divides into two portions, each of which is rapidly converted -into an active _Heteromita_. - -A still more remarkable phenomenon is that kind of multiplication -which is preceded by the union of two monads, by a process which is -termed _conjugation_. Two active _Heteromitæ_ become applied to one -another, and then slowly and gradually coalesce into one body. The -two nuclei run into one; and the mass resulting from the conjugation -of the two _Heteromitæ_, thus fused together, has a triangular form. -The two pairs of cilia are to be seen, for some time, at two of the -angles, which answer to the small ends of the conjoined monads; but -they ultimately vanish, and the twin organism, in which all visible -traces of organisation have disappeared, falls into a state of rest. -Sudden wave-like movements of its substance next occur; and, in a short -time, the apices of the triangular mass burst, and give exit to a dense -yellowish, glairy fluid, filled with minute granules. This process, -which, it will be observed, involves the actual confluence and mixture -of the substance of two distinct organisms, is effected in the space of -about two hours. - -The authors whom I quote say that they “cannot express” the excessive -minuteness of the granules in question, and they estimate their -diameter at less than 1/200000 of an inch. Under the highest powers -of the microscope at present applicable such specks are hardly -discernible. Nevertheless, particles of this size are massive when -compared to physical molecules; whence there is no reason to doubt -that each, small as it is, may have a molecular structure sufficiently -complex to give rise to the phenomena of life. And, as a matter of -fact, by patient watching of the place at which these infinitesimal -living particles were discharged, our observers assured themselves -of their growth and development into new monads. These, in about -four hours from their being set free, had attained a sixth of the -length of the parent, with the characteristic cilia, though at -first they were quite motionless; and, in four hours more, they had -attained the dimensions and exhibited all the activity of the adult. -These inconceivably minute particles are therefore the germs of the -_Heteromita_; and from the dimensions of these germs it is easily -shown that the body formed by conjugation may, at a low estimate, -have given exit to thirty thousand of them; a result of a matrimonial -process whereby the contracting parties, without a metaphor, “become -one flesh,” enough to make a Malthusian despair of the future of the -Universe. - -I am not aware that the investigators from whom I have borrowed this -history have endeavoured to ascertain whether their monads take solid -nutriment or not; so that though they help us very much to fill up the -blanks in the history of my _Heteromita_, their observations throw no -light on the problem we are trying to solve—Is it an animal or is it a -plant? - -Undoubtedly it is possible to bring forward very strong arguments in -favour of regarding _Heteromita_ as a plant. - -For example, there is a Fungus, an obscure and almost microscopic -mould, termed _Peronospora infestans_. Like many other Fungi, the -_Peronosporæ_ are parasitic upon other plants; and this particular -_Peronospora_ happens to have attained much notoriety and political -importance, in a way not without a parallel in the career of notorious -politicians, namely, by reason of the frightful mischief it has -done to mankind. For it is this _Fungus_ which is the cause of the -potato disease; and, therefore, _Peronospora infestans_ (doubtless of -exclusively Saxon origin, though not accurately known to be so) brought -about the Irish famine. The plants afflicted with the malady are found -to be infested by a mould, consisting of fine tubular filaments, termed -_hyphæ_, which burrow through the substance of the potato plant, and -appropriate to themselves the substance of their host; while, at the -same time, directly or indirectly, they set up chemical changes by -which even its woody framework becomes blackened, sodden, and withered. - -In structure, however, the _Peronospora_ is as much a mould as the -common _Penicillium_; and just as the _Penicillium_ multiplies by the -breaking up of its hyphæ into separate rounded bodies, the spores; -so, in the _Peronospora_, certain of the hyphæ grow out into the air -through the interstices of the superficial cells of the potato plant, -and develop spores. Each of these hyphæ usually gives off several -branches. The ends of the branches dilate and become closed sacs, which -eventually drop off as spores. The spores falling on some part of the -same potato plant, or carried by the wind to another, may at once -germinate, throwing out tubular prolongations which become hyphæ, and -burrow into the substance of the plant attacked. But, more commonly, -the contents of the spore divide into six or eight separate portions. -The coat of the spore gives way, and each portion then emerges as an -independent organism, which has the shape of a bean, rather narrower at -one end than the other, convex on one side, and depressed or concave on -the opposite. From the depression, two long and delicate cilia proceed, -one shorter than the other, and directed forwards. Close to the origin -of these cilia, in the substance of the body, is a regularly pulsating, -contractile vacuole. The shorter cilium vibrates actively, and effects -the locomotion of the organism, while the other trails behind; the -whole body rolling on its axis with its pointed end forwards. - -The eminent botanist, De Bary, who was not thinking of our problem, -tells us, in describing the movements of these “Zoospores,” that, as -they swim about, “Foreign bodies are carefully avoided, and the whole -movement has a deceptive likeness to the voluntary changes of place -which are observed in microscopic animals.” - -After swarming about in this way in the moisture on the surface of -a leaf or stem (which, film though it may be, is an ocean to such a -fish) for half an hour, more or less, the movement of the zoospore -becomes slower, and is limited to a slow turning upon its axis, without -change of place. It then becomes quite quiet, the cilia disappear, it -assumes a spherical form, and surrounds itself with a distinct, though -delicate, membranous coat. A protuberance then grows out from one side -of the sphere, and rapidly increasing in length, assumes the character -of a hypha. The latter penetrates into the substance of the potato -plant, either by entering a stomate, or by boring through the wall of -an epidermic cell, and ramifies, as a mycelium, in the substance of -the plant, destroying the tissues with which it comes in contact. As -these processes of multiplication take place very rapidly, millions of -spores are soon set free from a single infested plant; and, from their -minuteness, they are readily transported by the gentlest breeze. Since, -again, the zoospores set free from each spore, in virtue of their -powers of locomotion, swiftly disperse themselves over the surface, it -is no wonder that the infection, once started, soon spreads from field -to field, and extends its ravages over a whole country. - -However, it does not enter into my present plan to treat of the -potato disease, instructively as its history bears upon that of other -epidemics; and I have selected the case of the _Peronospora_ simply -because it affords an example of an organism, which, in one stage of -its existence, is truly a “Monad,” indistinguishable by any important -character from our _Heteromita_, and extraordinarily like it in some -respects. And yet this “Monad” can be traced, step by step, through the -series of metamorphoses which I have described, until it assumes the -features of an organism, which is as much a plant as is an oak or an -elm. - -Moreover, it would be possible to pursue the analogy farther. Under -certain circumstances, a process of conjugation takes place in the -_Peronospora_. Two separate portions of its protoplasm become fused -together, surround themselves with a thick coat, and give rise to a -sort of vegetable egg called an _oospore_. After a period of rest, -the contents of the oospore break up into a number of zoospores like -those already described, each of which, after a period of activity, -germinates in the ordinary way. This process obviously corresponds -with the conjugation and subsequent setting free of germs in the -_Heteromita_. - -But it may be said that the _Peronospora_ is, after all, a questionable -sort of plant; that it seems to be wanting in the manufacturing power, -selected as the main distinctive character of vegetable life; or, at -any rate, that there is no proof that it does not get its protein -matter ready made from the potato plant. - -Let us, therefore, take a case which is not open to these objections. - -There are some small plants known to botanists as members of the genus -_Coleochæte_, which, without being truly parasitic, grow upon certain -water-weeds, as lichens grow upon trees. The little plant has the form -of an elegant green star, the branching arms of which are divided into -cells. Its greenness is due to its chlorophyll, and it undoubtedly -has the manufacturing power in full degree, decomposing carbonic acid -and setting oxygen free, under the influence of sunlight. But the -protoplasmic contents of some of the cells of which the plant is made -up occasionally divide, by a method similar to that which effects the -division of the contents of the _Peronospora_ spore; and the severed -portions are then set free as active monad-like zoospores. Each is oval -and is provided at one extremity with two long active cilia. Propelled -by these, it swims about for a longer or shorter time, but at length -comes to a state of rest and gradually grows into a _Coleochæte_. -Moreover, as in the _Peronospora_, conjugation may take place and -result in an oospore; the contents of which divide and are set free as -monadiform germs. - -If the whole history of the zoospores of _Peronospora_, and of -_Coleochæte_ were unknown, they would undoubtedly be classed among -“Monads” with the same right as _Heteromita_; why then may not -_Heteromita_ be a plant, even though the cycle of forms through -which it passes shows no terms quite so complex as those which occur -in _Peronospora_ and _Coleochæte_? And, in fact, there are some -green organisms, in every respect characteristically plants, such -as _Chlamydomonas_, and the common _Volvox_, or so-called “Globe -animalcule,” which run through a cycle of forms of just the same simple -character as those of _Heteromita_. - -The name of _Chlamydomonas_ is applied to certain microscopic green -bodies, each of which consists of a protoplasmic central substance -invested by a structureless sac. The latter contains cellulose, as -in ordinary plants; and the chlorophyll which gives the green colour -enables the _Chlamydomonas_ to decompose carbonic acid and fix carbon -as they do. Two long cilia protrude through the cell-wall, and effect -the rapid locomotion of this “monad,” which, in all respects except its -mobility, is characteristically a plant. Under ordinary circumstances, -the _Chlamydomonas_ multiplies by simple fission, each splitting -into two or into four parts, which separate and become independent -organisms. Sometimes, however, the _Chlamydomonas_ divides into eight -parts, each of which is provided with four instead of two cilia. These -“zoospores” conjugate in pairs, and give rise to quiescent bodies, -which multiply by division, and eventually pass into the active state. - -Thus, so far as outward form and the general character of the cycle -of modifications, through which the organism passes in the course of -its life, are concerned, the resemblance between _Chlamydomonas_ and -_Heteromita_ is of the closest description. And on the face of the -matter there is no ground for refusing to admit that _Heteromita_ may -be related to _Chlamydomonas_, as the colourless fungus is to the green -alga. _Volvox_ may be compared to a hollow sphere, the wall of which -is made up of coherent Chlamydomonads; and which progresses with a -rotating motion effected by the paddling of the multitudinous pairs of -cilia which project from its surface. Each _Volvox_monad, moreover, -possesses a red pigment spot, like the simplest form of eye known among -animals. The methods of fissive multiplication and of conjugation -observed in the monads of this locomotive globe are essentially similar -to those observed in _Chlamydomonas_; and, though a hard battle has -been fought over it, _Volvox_ is now finally surrendered to the -Botanists. - -Thus there is really no reason why _Heteromita_ may not be a plant; and -this conclusion would be very satisfactory, if it were not equally easy -to show that there is really no reason why it should not be an animal. -For there are numerous organisms presenting the closest resemblance to -_Heteromita_, and, like it, grouped under the general name of “Monads,” -which, nevertheless, can be observed to take in solid nutriment, and -which, therefore, have a virtual, if not an actual, mouth and digestive -cavity, and thus come under Cuvier’s definition of an animal. Numerous -forms of such animals have been described by Ehrenberg, Dujardin, H. -James Clark, and other writers on the _Infusoria_. Indeed, in another -infusion of hay in which my _Heteromita lens_ occurred, there were -innumerable infusorial animalcules belonging to the well-known species -_Colpoda cucullus_.[35] - -Full-sized specimens of this animalcule attain a length of between -1/300 or 1/400 of an inch, so that it may have ten times the length -and a thousand times the mass of a _Heteromita_. In shape, it is -not altogether unlike _Heteromita_. The small end, however, is not -produced into one long cilium, but the general surface of the body is -covered with small actively vibrating ciliary organs, which are only -longest at the small end. At the point which answers to that from which -the two cilia arise in _Heteromita_, there is a conical depression, the -mouth; and, in young specimens, a tapering filament, which reminds one -of the posterior cilium of _Heteromita_, projects from this region. - -The body consists of a soft granular protoplasmic substance, the middle -of which is occupied by a large oval mass called the “nucleus;” while, -at its hinder end, is a “contractile vacuole,” conspicuous by its -regular rhythmic appearances and disappearances. Obviously, although -the _Colpoda_ is not a monad, it differs from one only in subordinate -details. Moreover, under certain conditions, it becomes quiescent, -incloses itself in a delicate case or _cyst_, and then divides into -two, four, or more portions, which are eventually set free and swim -about as active _Colpodæ_. - -But this creature is an unmistakable animal, and full-sized _Colpodæ_ -may be fed as easily as one feeds chickens. It is only needful to -diffuse very finely ground carmine through the water in which they -live, and, in a very short time, the bodies of the _Colpodæ_ are -stuffed with the deeply-coloured granules of the pigment. - -And if this were not sufficient evidence of the animality of _Colpoda_, -there comes the fact that it is even more similar to another well-known -animalcule, _Paramæcium_, than it is to a monad. But _Paramæcium_ is -so huge a creature compared with those hitherto discussed—it reaches -1/120 of an inch or more in length—that there is no difficulty in -making out its organisation in detail; and in proving that it is not -only an animal, but that it is an animal which possesses a somewhat -complicated organisation. For example, the surface layer of its body is -different in structure from the deeper parts. There are two contractile -vacuoles, from each of which radiates a system of vessel-like canals; -and not only is there a conical depression continuous with a tube, -which serve as mouth and gullet, but the food ingested takes a definite -course, and refuse is rejected from a definite region. Nothing is -easier than to feed these animals, and to watch the particles of indigo -or carmine accumulate at the lower end of the gullet. From this they -gradually project, surrounded by a ball of water, which at length -passes with a jerk, oddly simulating a gulp, into the pulpy central -substance of the body, there to circulate up one side and down the -other, until its contents are digested and assimilated. Nevertheless, -this complex animal multiplies by division, as the monad does, and, -like the monad, undergoes conjugation. It stands in the same relation -to _Heteromita_ on the animal side, as _Coleochæte_ does on the plant -side. Start from either, and such an insensible series of gradations -leads to the monad that it is impossible to say at any stage of the -progress—here the line between the animal and the plant must be drawn. - -There is reason to think that certain organisms which pass through a -monad stage of existence, such as the _Myxomycetes_, are, at one time -of their lives, dependent upon external sources for their protein -matter, or are animals; and, at another period, manufacture it, or are -plants. And seeing that the whole progress of modern investigation is -in favour of the doctrine of continuity, it is a fair and probable -speculation—though only a speculation—that, as there are some plants -which can manufacture protein out of such apparently intractable -mineral matters as carbonic acid, water, nitrate of ammonia, metallic -and earthy salts; while others need to be supplied with their carbon -and nitrogen in the somewhat less raw form of tartrate of ammonia and -allied compounds; so there may be yet others, as is possibly the case -with the true parasitic plants, which can only manage to put together -materials still better prepared—still more nearly approximated to -protein—until we arrive at such organisms as the _Psorospermiæ_ and the -_Panhistophyton_, which are as much animal as vegetable in structure, -but are animal in their dependence on other organisms for their food. - -The singular circumstance observed by Meyer, that the _Torula_ of -yeast, though an indubitable plant, still flourishes most vigorously -when supplied with the complex nitrogenous substance, pepsin; the -probability that the _Peronospora_ is nourished directly by the -protoplasm of the potato-plant; and the wonderful facts which have -recently been brought to light respecting insectivorous plants, all -favour this view; and tend to the conclusion that the difference -between animal and plant is one of degree rather than of kind; and that -the problem whether, in a given case, an organism is an animal or a -plant, may be essentially insoluble. - - - - -VIII. - -ON CERTAIN ERRORS RESPECTING THE STRUCTURE OF THE HEART -ATTRIBUTED TO ARISTOTLE. - - -In all the commentaries upon the “Historia Animalium” which I have met -with, Aristotle’s express and repeated statement, that the heart of -man and the largest animals contains only three cavities, is noted as -a remarkable error. Even Cuvier, who had a great advantage over most -of the commentators in his familiarity with the subject of Aristotle’s -description, and whose habitual caution and moderation seem to desert -him when the opportunity of panegyrising the philosopher presents -itself, is betrayed into something like a sneer on this topic. - - “Du reste il n’attribue à cet organe que trois cavités, - erreur qui prouve au moins qu’il en avait regardé la - structure.”[36] - -To which remark, what follows will, I think, justify the reply, that it -“prouve au moins” that Cuvier had not given ordinary attention, to say -nothing of the careful study which they deserve, to sundry passages in -the first and the third books of the “Historia” which I proceed to lay -before the reader. - -For convenience of reference these passages are marked _A_, _B_, _C_, -etc.[37] - - Book i. 17.—(_A_) “The heart has three cavities, it lies - above the lung on the division of the windpipe, and has - a fatty and thick membrane where it is united with the - great vein and the aorta. It lies upon the aorta, with - its point down the chest, in all animals that have a - chest. In all, alike in those that have a chest and in - those that have none, the foremost part of it is the - apex. This is often overlooked through the turning upside - down of the dissection. The rounded end of the heart is - uppermost, the pointed end of it is largely fleshy and - thick, and in its cavities there are tendons. In other - animals which have a chest the heart lies in the middle - of the chest; in men, more to the left side, between the - nipples, a little inclined to the left nipple in the - upper part of the chest. The heart is not large, and its - general form is not elongated but rounded, except that - the apex is produced into a point. - - (_B_) “It has, as already stated, three cavities, the - largest of them is on the right, the smallest on the - left, the middle-sized one in the middle; they have all, - also the two small ones, passages (τετρημένας) towards - the lung, very evidently as respects one of the cavities. - In the region of the union [with the great vein and the - aorta] the largest cavity is connected with the largest - vein (near which is the mesentery); the middle cavity - with the aorta. - - (_C_) “Canals (πόροι) from the heart pass to the lung and - divide in the same fashion as the windpipe does, closely - accompanying those from the windpipe through the whole - lung. The canals from the heart are uppermost. - - (_D_) “No canal is common [to the branches of the - windpipe and those of the vein] (οὐδεὶς δ’ ἐστὶ κοινὸς - πόρος) but through those parts of them which are in - contact (τὴν σύναψιν) the air passes in and they [the - πόροι] carry it to the heart. - - (_E_) “One of the canals leads to the right cavity, the - other to the left. - - (_F_) “Of all the viscera, the heart alone contains blood - [in itself]. The lung contains blood, not in itself but - in the veins, the heart in itself; for in each of the - cavities there is blood; the thinnest is in the middle - cavity.” - - Book iii. 3.—(_G_) “Two veins lie in the thorax alongside - the spine, on its inner face; the larger more forwards, - the smaller behind; the larger more to the right, the - smaller, which some call _aorta_ (on account of the - tendinous part of it seen in dead bodies), to the left. - These take their origin from the heart; they pass entire, - preserving the nature of veins, through the other viscera - that they reach; while the heart is rather a part of - them, and more especially of the anterior and larger one, - which is continued into veins above and below, while - between these is the heart. - - (_H_) “All hearts contain cavities, but, in those of very - small animals, the largest [cavity] is hardly visible, - those of middling size have another, and the biggest all - three. - - (_I_) “The point of the heart is directed forwards, as - was mentioned at first; the largest cavity to the right - and upper side of it, the smallest to the left, and the - middle-sized one between these; both of these are much - smaller than the largest. - - (_K_) “They are all connected by passages (συντέτρηνται) - with the lung, but, on account of the smallness of the - canals, this is obscure except in one. - - (_L_) “The great vein proceeds from the largest cavity - which lies upwards and to the right; next through the - hollow middle part (διὰ τοῦ κοίλου τοῦ μέσου) it becomes - vein again, this cavity being a part of the vein in which - the blood stagnates. - - (_M_) “The aorta [proceeds from] the middle [cavity], but - not in the same way, for it is connected [with the middle - cavity] by a much more narrow tube (σύριγγα). - - (_N_) “The [great] vein extends through the heart, - towards the aorta from the heart. - - (_O_) “The great vein is membranous like skin, the aorta - narrower than it and very tendinous, and as it extends - towards the head and the lower parts it becomes narrow - and altogether tendinous. - - (_P_) “In the first place, a part of the great vein - extends upwards from the heart towards the lung and - the attachment of the aorta, the vein being large and - undivided. It divides into two parts, the one to the - lung, the other to the spine and the lowest vertebra of - the neck. - - (_Q_) “The vein which extends to the lung first divides - into two parts for the two halves of it and then extends - alongside each tube (σύριγγα) and each passage (τρῆμα), - the larger beside the larger and the smaller beside the - smaller, so that no part [of the lung] can be found - from which a passage (τρῆμα) and a vein are absent. - The terminations are invisible on account of their - minuteness, but the whole lung appears full of blood. The - canals from the vein lie above the tubes given off from - the windpipe.” - -The key to the whole of the foregoing description of the heart lies -in the passages (_G_) and (_L_). They prove that Aristotle, like -Galen, five hundred years afterwards, and like the great majority -of the old Greek anatomists, did not reckon what we call the right -auricle as a constituent of the heart at all, but as a hollow part, or -dilatation, of the “great vein.” Aristotle is careful to state that his -observations were conducted on suffocated animals; and if any one will -lay open the thorax of a dog or a rabbit, which has been killed with -chloroform, in such a manner as to avoid wounding any important vessel, -he will at once see why Aristotle adopted this view. - -For, as the subjoined figure (p. 185) shows, the vena cava inferior -(_b_), the right auricle (_R.a._), and the vena cava superior and -innominate vein (_V.I._) distended with blood seem to form one -continuous column, to which the heart is attached as a sort of -appendage. This column is, as Aristotle says, vein above (_a_) and vein -below (_b_), the upper and the lower divisions being connected διὰ -τοῦ κοίλου τοῦ μέσου—or by means of the intervening cavity or chamber -(_R.a._)—which is that which we call the right auricle. - -[Illustration: - - A dog having been killed by chloroform, enough of the - right wall of the thorax was removed, without any notable - bleeding, to expose the thoracic viscera. A carefully - measured outline sketch of the parts _in situ_ was then - made, and on dissection, twenty-four hours afterwards, - the necessary anatomical details were added. The woodcut - is a faithfully reduced copy of the drawing thus - constructed; and it represents the relations of the heart - and great vessels as Aristotle saw them in a suffocated - animal. - - All but the inner lobe of the right lung has been - removed; as well as the right half of the pericardium and - the right walls of the right auricle and ventricle. It - must be remembered that the thin transparent pericardial - membrane appears nothing like so distinct in nature. - - _a.b._, Aristotle’s “great vein”; _V.I._, right vena - innominata and vena cava superior; _b_, the inferior - vena cava; _R.a._, the “hollow middle” part of the great - vein or the right auricle; _R.v′_, the prolongation of - the cavity of the right ventricle _R.v_ towards the - pulmonary artery; _tr_, one of the tricuspid valves; - _Pc_, the pericardium; _I.sv_, superior intercostal - vein; _Az_, vena azygos; _P.A._, right pulmonary artery; - _Br_, right bronchus; _L_, inner lobe of the right lung; - _Œ_, œsophagus; _Ao_, descending aorta; _H_, liver, in - section, with hepatic vein, vena portæ, and gall-bladder, - _gb_, separated by the diaphragm, also seen in section, - from the thoracic cavity.] - -But when, from the four cavities of the heart recognised by us moderns, -one is excluded, there remain three—which is just what Aristotle says. -The solution of the difficulty is, in fact, as absurdly simple as that -presented by the egg of Columbus; and any error there may be, is not -to be put down to Aristotle, but to that inability to comprehend that -the same fact may be accurately described in different ways, which -is the special characteristic of the commentatorial mind. That the -three cavities mentioned by Aristotle are just those which remain if -the right auricle is omitted, is plain enough from what is said in -(_B_), (_C_), (_E_), (_I_), and (_L_). For, in a suffocated animal, -the “right cavity” which is directly connected with the great vein, -and is obviously the right ventricle, being distended with blood, will -look much larger than the middle cavity, which, since it gives rise -to the aorta, can only be the left ventricle. And this, again, will -appear larger than the thin and collapsed left auricle, which must -be Aristotle’s left cavity, inasmuch as this cavity is said to be -connected by πόροι with the lung. The reason why Aristotle considered -the left auricle to be a part of the heart, while he merged the right -auricle in the great vein, is, obviously, the small relative size of -the venous trunks and their sharper demarcation from the auricle. -Galen, however, perhaps more consistently, regarded the left auricle -also as a mere part of the “arteria venosa.” The canal which leads -from the right cavity of the heart to the lung (or, as Aristotle -puts it (_E_), from the lung to the heart) is, without doubt, the -pulmonary artery. But it may be said that, in this case, Aristotle -contradicts himself, inasmuch as in (_P_) and (_Q_) a vessel, which -is obviously the pulmonary artery, is described as a branch of the -great vein. However, this difficulty also disappears, if we reflect -that, in Aristotle’s way of looking at the matter, the line of -demarcation between the great vein and the heart coincides with the -right auriculo-ventricular aperture; and that, inasmuch as the conical -prolongation of the right ventricle which leads to the pulmonary -artery (_R.v′_ in the Figure), lies close in front of the auricle, -its base may very easily (as the figure shows) be regarded as part of -the general opening of the great vein into the right ventricle. In -fact, it is clear that Aristotle, having failed to notice the valves -of the heart, did not distinguish the part of the right ventricle -from which the pulmonary artery arises (_R.v′_) from the proper trunk -of the artery on the one hand, and from the right auricle (_R.a_) on -the other. Thus the root, as we may call it, of the pulmonary artery -and the right auricle, taken together, are spoken of as the “part of -the great vein which extends upwards” (_P_); and, as the vena azygos -(_Az_) was one branch of this, so the “vein to the lung” was regarded -as another branch of it. But the latter branch, being given off close -to the connection of the great vein with the ventricle, was also -counted as one of the two πόροι by which the “heart” (that is to say -the right ventricle, the left ventricle, and the left auricle of our -nomenclature) communicates with the lung. - -The only other difficulty that I observe is connected with (_K_). If -Aristotle intended by this to affirm that the middle cavity (the left -ventricle), like the other two, is directly connected with the lung by -a πόρος, he would be in error. But he has excluded this interpretation -of his words by (_E_), in which the number and relations of the -canals, the existence of which he admits, are distinctly defined. I -can only imagine then, that, so far as this passage applies to the -left ventricle, it merely refers to the indirect communication of that -cavity with the vessels of the lungs, through the left auricle. - -On this evidence I submit that there is no escape from the conclusion -that, instead of having committed a gross blunder, Aristotle has given -a description of the heart which, so far as it goes, is remarkably -accurate. He is in error only in regard to the differences which he -imagines to exist between large and small hearts (_H_). - -Cuvier (who has been followed by other commentators) ascribes another -error to Aristotle:— - - “Aristote suppose que la trachée-artère se prolonge - jusqu’au cœur, et semble croire, en conséquence, que - l’air y pénétre (_l. c._ p. 152).” - -Upon what foundation Cuvier rested the first of these two assertions, -I am at a loss to divine. As a matter of fact, it will appear from the -following excerpts that Aristotle gives an account of the structure of -the lungs which is almost as good as that of the heart, and that it -contains nothing about any prolongation of the windpipe to the heart. - - “Within the neck lie what is called the œsophagus (so - named on account of its length and its narrowness) and - the windpipe (ἀρτηρία). The position of the windpipe in - all animals that have one, is in front of the œsophagus. - All animals which possess a lung have a windpipe. The - windpipe is of a cartilaginous nature and is exsanguine, - but is surrounded by many little veins.... - - “It goes downwards towards the middle of the lung, and - then divides for each of the halves of the lung. In all - animals that possess one, the lung is divided into two - parts; but, in those which bring forth their young alive, - the separation is not equally well marked, least of all - in man. - - “In oviparous animals, such as birds, and in quadrupeds - which are oviparous, the one half of the lung is widely - separated from the other; so that it appears as if they - had two lungs. And from being single, the windpipe - becomes (divided into) two, which extend to each half of - the lung. It is fastened to the great vein, and to what - is called the aorta. When the windpipe is blown up, the - air passes into the hollow parts of the lung. In these, - are cartilaginous tubes (διαφύσεις) which unite at an - angle; from the tubes passages (τρήματα) traverse the - whole of the lung; they are continually given off, the - smaller from the larger.” (Book i. 16.) - -That Aristotle should speak of the lung as a single organ divided into -two halves, and should say that the division is least marked in man, -is puzzling at first; but the statement becomes intelligible, if we -reflect upon the close union of the bronchi, the pulmonary vessels and -the mediastinal walls of the pleuræ, in mammals;[38] and it is quite -true that the lungs are much more obviously distinct from one another -in birds. - -Aubert and Wimmer translate the last paragraph of the passage just -cited as follows:— - - “Diese haben aber knorpelige Scheidewände, welche unter - spitzen Winkeln zusammentreten, und aus ihnen führen - Oeffnungen durch die ganze Lunge, indem sie sich in immer - kleineren verzweigen.” - -But I cannot think that by διαφύσεις and τρήματα, in this passage, -Aristotle meant either “partitions” or openings in the ordinary -sense of the latter word. For, in Book iii. Cap. 3, in describing -the distribution of the “vein which goes to the lung” (the pulmonary -artery), he says that it - - “extends alongside each tube (σύριγγα) and each passage - (τρῆμα), the larger beside the larger, and the smaller - beside the smaller; so that no part (of the lung) can be - found from which a passage (τρῆμα) and a vein are absent.” - -Moreover, in Book i. 17, he says— - - “Canals (πόροι) from the heart pass to the lung and - divide in the same fashion as the windpipe does, closely - accompanying those from the windpipe through the whole - lung.” - -And again in Book i. 17— - - “It (the lung) is entirely spongy, and alongside of each - tube (σύριγγα) run canals (πόροι) from the great vein.” - -On comparing the last three statements with the facts of the case, it -is plain that by σύριγγες, or tubes, Aristotle means the bronchi and so -many of their larger divisions as obviously contain cartilages; and -that by διαφύσεις χονδρώδεις he denotes the same things; and, if this -be so, then the τρήματα must be the smaller bronchial canals, in which -the cartilages disappear. - -This view of the structure of the lung is perfectly correct so far -as it extends; and, bearing it in mind, we shall be in a position to -understand what Aristotle thought about the passage of air from the -lungs into the heart. In every part of the lung, he says, in effect, -there is an air tube which is derived from the trachea, and other tubes -which are derived from the πόροι which connect the lung with the heart -(_suprà_, _C_). Their applied walls constitute the thin “synapses” (τὴν -σύναψιν) through which the air passes out of the air tubes into the -πόροι, or blood-vessels, by transudation or diffusion; for there is no -community between the cavities of the air tubes and cavities of the -canals; that is to say, no opening from one into the other (_suprà_, -_D_). - -On the words “κοινὸς πόρος” Aubert and Wimmer remark (_l. c._ p. 239), -“Da A. die Ansicht hat die Lungenluft würde dem Herzen zugeführt, -so postulirt er statt vieler kleiner Verbindungen einen grossen -Verbindungsgang zwischen Lunge und Herz.” - -But does Aristotle make this assumption? The only evidence so far as -I know in favour of the affirmative answer to this question is the -following passage:— - - “Συνήρτεται δὲ καὶ ἡ καρδία τῇ ἀρτηριᾷ πιμελώδεσι - καὶ χονδρώδεσι καὶ ἰνώδεσι δεσμοῖς· ᾗ δὲ συνήρτεται, - κοῖλόν ἐστιν. φυσωμένης δὲ τῆς ἀρτηρίας μὲν ἐνίοις ἐν οὐ - κατάδηλον ποιεῖ, ἐν δὲ τοῖς μείζοσι τῶν ζῴων δῆλον ὅτι - εἰσέρχεται τὸ πνεῦμα εἰς αὐτὴν” (i. cap. 16). - - “The heart and the windpipe are connected by fatty and - cartilaginous and fibrous bands; where they are connected - it is hollow. Blowing into the windpipe does not show - clearly in some animals, but in the larger animals it is - clear that the air goes into it.” - -Aubert and Wimmer give a somewhat different rendering of this passage:— - - “Auch das Herz hängt mit der Luftröhre durch fettreiche, - knorpelige und faserige Bänder zusammen; und da, wo sie - zusammenhängen, ist eine Höhlung. Beim Aufblasen der - Lunge wird es bei manchen Thieren nicht wahrnehmbar, bei - den grösseren aber ist es offenbar, dass die Luft in das - Herz gelangt.” - -The sense here turns upon the signification which is to be ascribed to -εἰς αὐτὴν. But if these words refer to the heart, then Aristotle has -distinctly pointed out the road which the air, in his opinion, takes, -namely, through the “synapses” (_D_); and there is no reason that I -can discover to believe that he “postulated” any other and more direct -communication. - -With respect to the meaning of κοῖλόν ἐστιν, Aubert and Wimmer observe:— - - “Dies scheint wohl die kurze Lungenvene zu sein. - Schneider bezieht dies auf die Vorkammern, allein diese - werden unten als Höhlen des Herzens beschrieben.” - -I am disposed to think, on the contrary, that the words refer simply -to the cavity of the pericardium. For a part of this cavity (_sinus -transversus pericardii_) lies between the aorta, on the one hand, and -the pulmonary vessels with the bifurcation of the trachea, on the other -hand, and is much more conspicuous in some animals than in man. It is -strictly correct, therefore, in Aristotle’s words, to say that where -the heart and the windpipe are connected “it is hollow.” If he had -meant to speak of one of the pulmonary veins, or of any of the cavities -of the heart, he would have used the terms πόροι or κοιλίας which he -always employs for these parts. - -According to Aristotle, then, the air taken into the lungs passes, from -the final ramifications of the bronchial tubes into the corresponding -branches of the pulmonary blood-vessels, not through openings, but by -transudation, or, as we should nowadays say, diffusion, through the -thin partitions formed by the applied coats of the two sets of canals. -But the “pneuma” which thus reached the interior of the blood-vessels -was not, in Aristotle’s opinion, exactly the same thing as the air. -It was “ἀὴρ πολὺς ῥέων καὶ ἀθρόος” (“De Mundo,” iv. 9)—subtilised and -condensed air; and it is hard to make out whether Aristotle considered -it to possess the physical properties of an elastic fluid or those of -a liquid. As he affirms that all the cavities of the heart contain -blood (_F_), it is clear that he did not hold the erroneous view -propounded in the next generation by Erasistratus. On the other hand, -the fact that he supposes that the spermatic arteries do not contain -blood but only an αἱματῶδης ὑγρόν (“Hist. Animalium,” iii. 1), shows -that his notions respecting the contents of the arteries were vague. -Nor does he seem to have known that the pulse is characteristic only -of the arteries; and as he thought that the arteries end in solid -fibrous bands, he naturally could not have entertained the faintest -conception of the true motion of the blood. But, without attempting -to read into Aristotle modern conceptions which never entered his -mind, it is only just to observe that his view of what becomes of the -air taken into the lungs is by no means worthy of contempt as a gross -error. On the contrary, here, as in the case of his anatomy of the -heart, what Aristotle asserts is true as far as it goes. Something -does actually pass from the air contained in the lungs through the -coats of the vessels into the blood, and thence to the heart; to wit, -oxygen. And I think that it speaks very well for ancient Greek science -that the investigator of so difficult a physiological problem as that -of respiration, should have arrived at a conclusion, the statement of -which, after the lapse of more than two thousand years, can be accepted -as a thoroughly established scientific truth. - -I trust that the case in favour of removing the statements about -the heart, from the list of the “errors of Aristotle” is now clear; -and that the evidence proves, on the contrary, that they justify -us in forming a very favourable estimate of the oldest anatomical -investigations among the Greeks of which any sufficient record remains. - -But is Aristotle to be credited with the merit of having ascertained so -much of the truth? This question will not appear superfluous to those -who are acquainted with the extraordinary history of Aristotle’s works, -or who adopt the conclusion of Aubert and Wimmer, that, of the ten -books of the “Historia Animalium” which have come down to us, three -are largely or entirely spurious, and that the others contain many -interpolations by later writers. - -It so happens, however, that, apart from other reasons, there are -satisfactory internal grounds for ascribing the account of the heart -to a writer of the time at which Aristotle lived. For, within thirty -years of his death, the anatomists of the Alexandrian school had -thoroughly investigated the structure and the functions of the valves -of the heart. During this time, the manuscripts of Aristotle were in -the possession of Theophrastus; and no interpolator of later date would -have shown that he was ignorant of the nature and significance of -these important structures, by the brief and obscure allusion—“in its -cavities there are tendons” (_A_). On the other hand, Polybus, whose -account of the vascular system is quoted in the “Historia Animalium” -was an elder contemporary of Aristotle. Hence, if any part of the -work faithfully represents that which Aristotle taught, we may safely -conclude that the description of the heart does so. Having granted -this much, however, it is another question, whether Aristotle is to -be regarded as the first discoverer of the facts which he has so well -stated, or whether he, like other men, was the intellectual child of -his time and simply carried on a step or two the work which had been -commenced by others. - -On the subject of Aristotle’s significance as an original worker in -biology extraordinarily divergent views have been put forward. If we -are to adopt Cuvier’s estimate, Aristotle was simply a miracle:— - - “Avant Aristote la philosophie, entièrement spéculative, - se perdait dans les abstractions dépourvues de fondement; - la science n’existait pas. Il semble qu’elle soit - sortie toute faite du cerveau d’Aristote comme Minerve, - toute armée, du cerveau de Jupiter. Seul, en effet, - sans antécédents, sans rien emprunter aux siècles qui - l’avaient précédé, puisqu’ils n’avaient rien produit de - solide, le disciple de Platon découvrit et démontra plus - de vérités, executa plus de travaux scientifiques en un - vie de soixante-deux ans, qu’après lui vingt siècles n’en - ont pu faire,”[39] etc. etc. - - “Aristote est le premier qui ait introduit la méthode - de l’induction, de la comparaison des observations - pour en faire sortir des idées générales, et celle de - l’expérience pour multiplier les faits dont ces idées - générales peuvent être déduites.”—ii. p. 515. - -The late Mr. G. H. Lewes,[40] on the contrary, tells us “on a -superficial examination, therefore, he [Aristotle] will seem to have -given tolerable descriptions; especially if approached with that -disposition to discover marvels which unconsciously determines us -in our study of eminent writers. But a more unbiassed and impartial -criticism will disclose that he has given no single anatomical -description of the least value. All that he knew may have been known, -and probably was known, without dissection.... I do not assert that -he never opened an animal; on the contrary it seems highly probable -that he had opened many.... He never followed the course of a vessel -or a nerve; never laid bare the origin and insertion of a muscle; -never discriminated the component parts of organs; never made clear to -himself the connection of organs into systems.”—(pp. 156-7.) - -In the face of the description of the heart and lungs, just quoted, -I think we may venture to say that no one who has acquired even an -elementary practical acquaintance with anatomy, and knows of his own -knowledge that which Aristotle describes, will agree with the opinion -expressed by Mr. Lewes; and those who turn to the accounts of the -structure of the rock lobster and the common lobster, or to that of the -Cephalopods and other Mollusks, in the fourth book of the “Historia -Animalium” will probably feel inclined to object to it still more -strongly. - -On the other hand, Cuvier’s exaggerated panegyric will as little bear -the test of cool discussion. In Greece, the century before Aristotle’s -birth was a period of great intellectual activity, in the field of -physical science no less than elsewhere. The method of induction has -never been used to better effect than by Hippocrates; and the labours -of such men as Alkmeon, Demokritus, and Polybus, among Aristotle’s -predecessors; Diokles, and Praxagoras, among his contemporaries, laid a -solid foundation for the scientific study of anatomy and development, -independently of his labours. Aristotle himself informs us that the -dissection of animals was commonly practised; that the aorta had been -distinguished from the great vein; and that the connection of both with -the heart had been observed by his predecessors. What they thought -about the structure of the heart itself or that of the lungs, he does -not tell us, and we have no means of knowing. So far from arrogantly -suggesting that he owed nothing to his predecessors, Aristotle is -careful to refer to their observations, and to explain why, in his -judgment, they fell into the errors which he corrects. - -Aristotle’s knowledge, in fact, appears to have stood in the same -relation to that of such men as Polybus and Diogenes of Apollonia, as -that of Herophilus and Erasistratus did to his own, so far as the heart -is concerned. He carried science a step beyond the point at which he -found it; a meritorious, but not a miraculous, achievement. What he -did, required the possession of very good powers of observation; if -they had been powers of the highest class, he could hardly have left -such conspicuous objects as the valves of the heart to be discovered by -his successors. - -And this leads me to make a final remark upon a singular feature of -the “Historia Animalium.” As a whole, it is a most notable production, -full of accurate information, and of extremely acute generalisations of -the observations accumulated by naturalists up to that time. And yet, -every here and there, one stumbles upon assertions respecting matters -which lie within the scope of the commonest inspection, which are not -so much to be called errors, as stupidities. What is to be made of the -statement that the sutures of women’s skulls are different from those -of men; that men and sundry male animals have more teeth than their -respective females; that the back of the skull is empty; and so on? It -is simply incredible to me, that the Aristotle who wrote the account of -the heart, also committed himself to absurdities which can be excused -by no theoretical prepossession and which are contradicted by the -plainest observation. - -What, after all, were the original manuscripts of the “Historia -Animalium”? If they were notes of Aristotle’s lectures taken by some of -his students, any lecturer who has chanced to look through such notes, -would find the interspersion of a foundation of general and sometimes -minute accuracy, with patches of transcendent blundering, perfectly -intelligible. Some competent Greek scholar may perhaps think it worth -while to tell us what may be said for or against the hypothesis thus -hinted. One obvious difficulty in the way of adopting it is the fact -that, in other works, Aristotle refers to the “Historia Animalium” as -if it had already been made public by himself. - - - - -IX. - -ON THE HYPOTHESIS THAT ANIMALS ARE AUTOMATA, AND ITS HISTORY. - - -The first half of the seventeenth century is one of the great epochs -of biological science. For though suggestions and indications of the -conceptions which took definite shape, at that time, are to be met -with in works of earlier date, they are little more than the shadows -which coming truth casts forward; men’s knowledge was neither extensive -enough, nor exact enough, to show them the solid body of fact which -threw these shadows. - -But, in the seventeenth century, the idea that the physical processes -of life are capable of being explained in the same way as other -physical phenomena, and, therefore, that the living body is a -mechanism, was proved to be true for certain classes of vital actions; -and, having thus taken firm root in irrefragable fact, this conception -has not only successfully repelled every assault which has been made -upon it, but has steadily grown in force and extent of application, -until it is now the expressed or implied fundamental proposition of the -whole doctrine of scientific Physiology. - -If we ask to whom mankind are indebted for this great service, the -general voice will name William Harvey. For, by his discovery of the -circulation of the blood in the higher animals, by his explanation of -the nature of the mechanism by which that circulation is effected, -and by his no less remarkable, though less known, investigations of -the process of development, Harvey solidly laid the foundations of -all those physical explanations of the functions of sustentation and -reproduction which modern physiologists have achieved. - -But the living body is not only sustained and reproduced: it adjusts -itself to external and internal changes; it moves and feels. The -attempt to reduce the endless complexities of animal motion and -feeling to law and order is, at least, as important a part of the task -of the physiologist as the elucidation of what are sometimes called -the vegetative processes. Harvey did not make this attempt himself; -but the influence of his work upon the man who did make it is patent -and unquestionable. This man was René Descartes, who, though by many -years Harvey’s junior, died before him; and yet, in his short span -of fifty-four years, took an undisputed place, not only among the -chiefs of philosophy, but amongst the greatest and most original of -mathematicians; while, in my belief, he is no less certainly entitled -to the rank of a great and original physiologist; inasmuch as he did -for the physiology of motion and sensation that which Harvey had done -for the circulation of the blood, and opened up that road to the -mechanical theory of these processes, which has been followed by all -his successors. - -Descartes was no mere speculator, as some would have us believe: but a -man who knew of his own knowledge what was to be known of the facts of -anatomy and physiology in his day. He was an unwearied dissector and -observer; and it is said, that, on a visitor once asking to see his -library, Descartes led him into a room set aside for dissections, and -full of specimens under examination. “There,” said he, “is my library.” - -I anticipate a smile of incredulity when I thus champion Descartes’ -claim to be considered a physiologist of the first rank. I expect to -be told that I have read into his works what I find there, and to be -asked, Why is it that we are left to discover Descartes’ deserts at -this time of day, more than two centuries after his death? How is it -that Descartes is utterly ignored in some of the latest works which -treat expressly of the subject in which he is said to have been so -great? - -It is much easier to ask such questions than to answer them, especially -if one desires to be on good terms with one’s contemporaries; but, if I -must give an answer, it is this: The growth of physical science is now -so prodigiously rapid, that those who are actively engaged in keeping -up with the present, have much ado to find time to look at the past, -and even grow into the habit of neglecting it. But, natural as this -result may be, it is none the less detrimental. The intellect loses, -for there is assuredly no more effectual method of clearing up one’s -own mind on any subject than by talking it over, so to speak, with -men of real power and grasp, who have considered it from a totally -different point of view. The parallax of time helps us to the true -position of a conception, as the parallax of space helps us to that of -a star. And the moral nature loses no less. It is well to turn aside -from the fretful stir of the present and to dwell with gratitude and -respect upon the services of those “mighty men of old who have gone -down to the grave with their weapons of war,” but who, while they yet -lived, won splendid victories over ignorance. It is well, again, to -reflect that the fame of Descartes filled all Europe, and his authority -overshadowed it, for a century; while now, most of those who know his -name think of him, either as a person who had some preposterous notions -about vortices and was deservedly annihilated by the great Sir Isaac -Newton; or as the apostle of an essentially vicious method of deductive -speculation; and that, nevertheless, neither the chatter of shifting -opinion, nor the silence of personal oblivion, has in the slightest -degree affected the growth of the great ideas of which he was the -instrument and the mouthpiece. - -It is a matter of fact that the greatest physiologist of the eighteenth -century, Haller, in treating of the functions of nerve, does little -more than reproduce and enlarge upon the ideas of Descartes. It is a -matter of fact that David Hartley, in his remarkable work the “Essay -on Man,” expressly, though still insufficiently, acknowledges the -resemblance of his fundamental conceptions to those of Descartes; and -I shall now endeavour to show that a series of propositions, which -constitute the foundation and essence of the modern physiology of the -nervous system, are fully expressed and illustrated in the works of -Descartes. - - I. _The brain is the organ of sensation, thought, and - emotion; that is to say, some change in the condition of - the matter of this organ is the invariable antecedent of - the state of consciousness to which each of these terms - is applied._ - -In the “Principes de la Philosophie” (§ 169), Descartes says:—[41] - - “Although the soul is united to the whole body, its - principal functions are, nevertheless, performed in - the brain; it is here that it not only understands and - imagines, but also feels; and this is effected by the - intermediation of the nerves, which extend in the form - of delicate threads from the brain to all parts of the - body, to which they are attached in such a manner, that - we can hardly touch any part of the body without setting - the extremity of some nerve in motion. This motion passes - along the nerve to that part of the brain which is the - common sensorium, as I have sufficiently explained in - my Treatise on Dioptrics; and the movements which thus - travel along the nerves, as far as that part of the - brain with which the soul is closely joined and united, - cause it, by reason of their diverse characters, to have - different thoughts. And it is these different thoughts of - the soul, which arise immediately from the movements that - are excited by the nerves in the brain, which we properly - term our feelings, or the perceptions of our senses.” - -Elsewhere,[42] Descartes, in arguing that the seat of the passions is -not (as many suppose) the heart, but the brain, uses the following -remarkable language:— - - “The opinion of those who think that the soul receives - its passions in the heart, is of no weight, for it is - based upon the fact that the passions cause a change to - be felt in that organ; and it is easy to see that this - change is felt, as if it were in the heart, only by the - intermediation of a little nerve which descends from the - brain to it; Just as pain is felt, as if it were in the - foot, by the intermediation of the nerves of the foot; - and the stars are perceived, as if they were in the - heavens, by the intermediation of their light and of the - optic nerves. So that it is no more necessary for the - soul to exert its functions immediately in the heart, to - feel its passions there, than it is necessary that it - should be in the heavens to see the stars there.” - -This definite allocation of all the phenomena of consciousness to the -brain as their organ, was a step the value of which it is difficult -for us to appraise, so completely has Descartes’ view incorporated -itself with every-day thought and common language. A lunatic is said -to be “crack-brained” or “touched in the head,” a confused thinker -is “muddle-headed,” while a clever man is said to have “plenty of -brains;” but it must be remembered that at the end of the last century -a considerable, though much over-estimated, anatomist, Bichat, so far -from having reached the level of Descartes, could gravely argue that -the apparatuses of organic life are the sole seat of the passions, -which in no way affect the brain, except so far as it is the agent by -which the influence of the passions is transmitted to the muscles.[43] - -Modern physiology, aided by pathology, easily demonstrates that the -brain is the seat of all forms of consciousness, and fully bears out -Descartes’ explanation of the reference of those sensations in the -viscera which accompany intense emotion, to these organs. It proves, -directly, that those states of consciousness which we call sensations -are the immediate consequent of a change in the brain excited by -the sensory nerves; and, on the well-known effects of injuries, of -stimulants, and of narcotics, it bases the conclusion that thought and -emotion are, in like manner, the consequents of physical antecedents. - - II. _The movements of animals are due to the change of - form of muscles, which shorten and become thicker; and - this change of form in a muscle arises from a motion of - the substance contained within the nerves which go to the - muscle_. - -In the “Passions de l’Âme,” Art. vii., Descartes writes:— - - “Moreover, we know that all the movements of the limbs - depend on the muscles, and that these muscles are opposed - to one another in such a manner, that when one of them - shortens, it draws along the part of the body to which - it is attached, and so gives rise to a simultaneous - elongation of the muscle which is opposed to it. Then, - if it happens, afterwards, that the latter shortens, it - causes the former to elongate, and draws towards itself - the part to which it is attached. Lastly, we know that - all these movements of the muscles, as all the senses, - depend on the nerves, which are like little threads or - tubes, which all come from the brain, and, like it, - contain a certain very subtle air or wind, termed the - animal spirits.” - -The property of muscle mentioned by Descartes now goes by the general -name of contractility, but his definition of it remains untouched. The -long-continued controversy whether contractile substance, speaking -generally, has an inherent power of contraction, or whether it -contracts only in virtue of an influence exerted by nerve, is now -settled in Haller’s favour; but Descartes’ statement of the dependence -of muscular contraction on nerve holds good for the higher forms of -muscle, under normal circumstances; so that, although the structure of -the various modifications of contractile matter has been worked out -with astonishing minuteness—although the delicate physical and chemical -changes which accompany muscular contraction have been determined to -an extent of which Descartes could not have dreamed, and have quite -upset his hypothesis that the cause of the shortening and thickening of -the muscle is the flow of animal spirits into it from the nerves—the -important and fundamental part of his statement remains perfectly true. - -The like may be affirmed of what he says about nerve. We know now that -nerves are not exactly tubes, and that “animal spirits” are myths; but -the exquisitely refined methods of investigation of Dubois-Reymond and -of Helmholz have no less clearly proved that the antecedent of ordinary -muscular contraction is a motion of the molecules of the nerve going to -the muscle; and that this motion is propagated with a measurable, and -by no means great, velocity, through the substance of the nerve towards -the muscle. - -With the progress of research, the term “animal spirits” gave way to -“nervous fluid,” and “nervous fluid” has now given way to “molecular -motion of nerve-substance.” Our conceptions of what takes place in -nerve have altered in the same way as our conceptions of what takes -place in a conducting wire have altered, since electricity was shown to -be not a fluid, but a mode of molecular motion. The change is of vast -importance, but it does not affect Descartes’ fundamental idea, that a -change in the substance of a motor nerve propagated towards a muscle is -the ordinary cause of muscular contraction. - - III. _The sensations of animals are due to a motion of - the substance of the nerves which connect the sensory - organs with the brain._ - -In _La Dioptrique_ (Discours Quatrième), Descartes explains, more fully -than in the passage cited above, his hypothesis of the mode of action -of sensory nerves:— - - “It is the little threads of which the inner substance - of the nerves is composed which subserve sensation. You - must conceive that these little threads, being inclosed - in tubes, which are always distended and kept open by - the animal spirits which they contain, neither press - upon nor interfere with one another, and are extended - from the brain to the extremities of all the members - which are sensitive—in such a manner, that the slightest - touch which excites the part of one of the members to - which a thread is attached, gives rise to a motion of - the part of the brain whence it arises, just as by - pulling one of the ends of a stretched cord, the other - end is instantaneously moved.... And we must take care - not to imagine that, in order to feel, the soul needs - to behold certain images sent by the objects of sense - to the brain, as our philosophers commonly suppose; - or, at least, we must conceive these images to be - something quite different from what they suppose them - to be. For, as all they suppose is that these images - ought to resemble the objects which they represent, it - is impossible for them to show how they can be formed by - the objects received by the organs of the external senses - and transmitted to the brain. And they have had no reason - for supposing the existence of these images except this; - seeing that the mind is readily excited by a picture to - conceive the object which is depicted, they have thought - that it must be excited in the same way to conceive those - objects which affect our senses by little pictures of - them formed in the head; instead of which we ought to - recollect that there are many things besides images which - may excite the mind, as, for example, signs and words, - which have not the least resemblance to the objects which - they signify.”[44] - -Modern physiology amends Descartes’ conception of the mode of action of -sensory nerves in detail, by showing that their structure is the same -as that of motor nerves; and that the changes which take place in them, -when the sensory organs with which they are connected are excited, are -of just the same nature as those which occur in motor nerves, when the -muscles to which they are distributed are made to contract: there is a -molecular change which, in the case of the sensory nerve, is propagated -towards the brain. But the great fact insisted upon by Descartes, that -no likeness of external things is, or can be, transmitted to the mind -by the sensory organs; on the contrary, that, between the external -cause of a sensation and the sensation, there is interposed a mode -of motion of nervous matter, of which the state of consciousness is -no likeness, but a mere symbol, is of the profoundest importance. It -is the physiological foundation of the doctrine of the relativity -of knowledge, and a more or less complete idealism is a necessary -consequence of it. - -For of two alternatives one must be true. Either consciousness is -the function of a something distinct from the brain, which we call -the soul, and a sensation is the mode in which this soul is affected -by the motion of a part of the brain; or there is no soul, and a -sensation is something generated by the mode of motion of a part of -the brain. In the former case, the phenomena of the senses are purely -spiritual affections; in the latter, they are something manufactured -by the mechanism of the body, and as unlike the causes which set that -mechanism in motion, as the sound of a repeater is unlike the pushing -of the spring which gives rise to it. - -The nervous system stands between consciousness and the assumed -external world, as an interpreter who can talk with his fingers stands -between a hidden speaker and a man who is stone deaf—and Realism is -equivalent to a belief on the part of the deaf man, that the speaker -must also be talking with his fingers. “Les extrêmes se touchent;” the -shibboleth of materialists that “thought is a secretion of the brain,” -is the Fichtean doctrine that “the phenomenal universe is the creation -of the Ego,” expressed in other language. - - IV. _The motion of the matter of a sensory nerve may - be transmitted through the brain to motor nerves, and - thereby give rise to contraction of the muscles to which - these motor nerves are distributed; and this reflection - of motion from a sensory into a motor nerve may take - place without volition, or even contrary to it._ - -In stating these important truths, Descartes defined that which we now -term “reflex action.” Indeed he almost uses the term itself, as he -talks of the “animal spirits” as “réfléchis,”[45] from the sensory into -the motor nerves. And that this use of the word “reflected” was no mere -accident, but that the importance and appropriateness of the idea it -suggests was fully understood by Descartes’ contemporaries, is apparent -from a passage in Willis’s well-known essay, “De Animâ Brutorum,” -published in 1672, in which, in giving an account of Descartes’ views, -he speaks of the animal spirits being diverted into motor channels, -“velut undulatione reflexâ.”[46] - -Nothing can be clearer in statement, or in illustration, than the view -of reflex action which Descartes gives in the “Passions de l’Âme,” Art. -xiii. - -After recapitulating the manner in which sensory impressions -transmitted by the sensory nerves to the brain give rise to sensation, -he proceeds:— - - “And in addition to the different feelings excited in the - soul by these different motions of the brain, the animal - spirits, without the intervention of the soul, may take - their course towards certain muscles, rather than towards - others, and thus move the limbs, as I shall prove by - an example. If some one moves his hand rapidly towards - our eyes, as if he were going to strike us, although - we know that he is a friend, that he does it only in - jest, and that he will be very careful to do us no harm, - nevertheless it will be hard to keep from winking. And - this shows, that it is not by the agency of the soul - that the eyes shut, since this action is contrary to - that volition which is the only, or at least the chief, - function of the soul; but it is because the mechanism - of our body is so disposed, that the motion of the hand - towards our eyes excites another movement in our brain, - and this sends the animal spirits into those muscles - which cause the eyelids to close.” - -Since Descartes’ time, experiment has eminently enlarged our knowledge -of the details of reflex action. The discovery of Bell has enabled us -to follow the tracks of the sensory and motor impulses, along distinct -bundles of nerve fibres; and the spinal cord, apart from the brain, has -been proved to be a great centre of reflex action; but the fundamental -conception remains as Descartes left it, and it is one of the pillars -of nerve physiology at the present day. - - V. _The motion of any given portion of the matter of the - brain excited by the motion of a sensory nerve, leaves - behind a readiness to be moved in the same way, in that - part. Anything which resuscitates the motion gives - rise to the appropriate feeling. This is the physical - mechanism of memory_. - -Descartes imagined that the pineal body (a curious appendage to the -upper side of the brain, the function of which, if it have any, is -wholly unknown) was the instrument through which the soul received -impressions from, and communicated them to, the brain. And he thus -endeavours to explain what happens when one tries to recollect -something:— - - “Thus when the soul wills to remember anything, this - volition, causing the [pineal] gland to incline itself - in different directions, drives the [animal] spirits - towards different regions of the brain, until they reach - that part in which are the traces, which the object - which it desires to remember has left. These traces are - produced thus: those pores of the brain through which the - [animal] spirits have previously been driven, by reason - of the presence of the object, have thereby acquired a - tendency to be opened by the animal spirits which return - towards them, more easily than other pores, so that the - animal spirits, impinging on these pores, enter them - more readily than others. By this means they excite a - particular movement in the pineal gland, which represents - the object to the soul, and causes it to know what it is - which it desired to recollect.”[47] - -That memory is dependent upon some condition of the brain is a fact -established by many considerations—among the most important of which -are the remarkable phenomena of aphasia. And that the condition of the -brain on which memory depends, is largely determined by the repeated -occurrence of that condition of its molecules, which gives rise to the -idea of the thing remembered, is no less certain. -Every boy who learns his lesson by repeating it exemplifies the fact. -Descartes, as we have seen, supposes that the pores of a given part -of the brain are stretched by the animal spirits, on the occurrence -of a sensation, and that the part of the brain thus stretched, being -imperfectly elastic, does not return to exactly its previous condition, -but remains more distensible than it was before. Hartley supposes -that the vibrations, excited by a sensory, or other, impression, -do not die away, but are represented by smaller vibrations or -“vibratiuncules,” the permanency and intensity of which are in relation -with the frequency of repetition of the primary vibrations. Haller has -substantially the same idea, but contents himself with the general term -“mutationes,” to express the cerebral change which is the cause of a -state of consciousness. These “mutationes” persist for a long time -after the cause which gives rise to them has ceased to operate, and -are arranged in the brain according to the order of coexistence and -succession of their causes. And he gives these persistent “mutationes” -the picturesque name of _vestigia rerum_, “quæ non in mente sed in ipso -corpore et in medulla quidem cerebri ineffabili modo incredibiliter -minutis notis et copia infinita, inscriptæ sunt.”[48] I do not know -that any modern theory of the physical conditions of memory differs -essentially from these, which are all children—_mutatis mutandis_—of -the Cartesian doctrine. Physiology is, at present, incompetent to -say anything positively about the matter, or to go farther than the -expression of the high probability, that every molecular change -which gives rise to a state of consciousness, leaves a more or less -persistent structural modification, through which the same molecular -change may be regenerated by other agencies than the cause which first -produced it. - -Thus far, the propositions respecting the physiology of the nervous -system which are stated by Descartes have simply been more clearly -defined, more fully illustrated, and, for the most part, demonstrated, -by modern physiological research. But there remains a doctrine to which -Descartes attached great weight, so that full acceptance of it became -a sort of note of a thorough-going Cartesian, but which, nevertheless, -is so opposed to ordinary prepossessions that it attained more general -notoriety, and gave rise to more discussion, than almost any other -Cartesian hypothesis. It is the doctrine, that brute animals are mere -machines or automata, devoid not only of reason, but of any kind of -consciousness, which is stated briefly in the “Discours de la Méthode,” -and more fully in the “Réponses aux Quatrièmes Objections,” and in the -correspondence with Henry More.[49] - -The process of reasoning by which Descartes arrived at this startling -conclusion is well shown in the following passage of the “Réponses:”— - - “But as regards the souls of beasts, although this is not - the place for considering them, and though, without a - general exposition of physics, I can say no more on this - subject than I have already said in the fifth part of my - Treatise on Method; yet, I will further state, here, that - it appears to me to be a very remarkable circumstance - that no movement can take place, either in the bodies of - beasts, or even in our own, if these bodies have not in - themselves all the organs and instruments by means of - which the very same movements would be accomplished in a - machine. So that, even in us, the spirit, or the soul, - does not directly move the limbs, but only determines - the course of that very subtle liquid which is called - the animal spirits, which, running continually from the - heart by the brain into the muscles, is the cause of all - the movements of our limbs, and often may cause many - different motions, one as easily as the other. - - “And it does not even always exert this determination; - for among the movements which take place in us, there - are many which do not depend on the mind at all, such - as the beating of the heart, the digestion of food, the - nutrition, the respiration, of those who sleep; and, - even in those who are awake, walking, singing, and other - similar actions, when they are performed without the - mind thinking about them. And, when one who falls from - a height throws his hands forwards to save his head, it - is in virtue of no ratiocination that he performs this - action; it does not depend upon his mind, but takes place - merely because his senses being affected by the present - danger, some change arises in his brain which determines - the animal spirits to pass thence into the nerves, in - such a manner as is required to produce this motion, - in the same way as in a machine, and without the mind - being able to hinder it. Now since we observe this in - ourselves, why should we be so much astonished if the - light reflected from the body of a wolf into the eye of - a sheep has the same force to excite in it the motion of - flight? - - “After having observed this, if we wish to learn by - reasoning, whether certain movements of beasts are - comparable to those which are effected in us by the - operation of the mind, or, on the contrary, to those - which depend only on the animal spirits and the - disposition of the organs, it is necessary to consider - the difference between the two, which I have explained - in the fifth part of the Discourse on Method (for I do - not think that any others are discoverable), and then - it will easily be seen, that all the actions of beasts - are similar only to those which we perform without the - help of our minds. For which reason we shall be forced - to conclude, that we know of the existence in them of no - other principle of motion than the disposition of their - organs and the continual affluence of animal spirits - produced by the heat of the heart, which attenuates and - subtilises the blood; and, at the same time, we shall - acknowledge that we have had no reason for assuming any - other principle, except that, not having distinguished - these two principles of motion, and seeing that the one, - which depends only on the animal spirits and the organs, - exists in beasts as well as in us, we have hastily - concluded that the other, which depends on mind and on - thought, was also possessed by them.” - -Descartes’ line of argument is perfectly clear. He starts from reflex -action in man, from the unquestionable fact that, in ourselves, -co-ordinate, purposive, actions may take place, without the -intervention of consciousness or volition, or even contrary to the -latter. As actions of a certain degree of complexity are brought about -by mere mechanism, why may not actions of still greater complexity -be the result of a more refined mechanism? What proof is there that -brutes are other than a superior race of marionettes, which eat without -pleasure, cry without pain, desire nothing, know nothing, and only -simulate intelligence as a bee simulates a mathematician?[50] - -The Port Royalists adopted the hypothesis that brutes are machines, -and are said to have carried its practical applications so far, as to -treat domestic animals with neglect, if not with actual cruelty. As -late as the middle of the eighteenth century, the problem was discussed -very fully and ably by Bouillier, in his “Essai philosophique sur l’Âme -des Bêtes,” while Condillac deals with it in his “Traité des Animaux;” -but since then it has received little attention. Nevertheless, modern -research has brought to light a great multitude of facts, which not -only show that Descartes’ view is defensible, but render it far more -defensible than it was in his day. - -It must be premised, that it is wholly impossible absolutely to prove -the presence or absence of consciousness in anything but one’s own -brain, though, by analogy, we are justified in assuming its existence -in other men. Now if, by some accident, a man’s spinal cord is divided, -his limbs are paralysed, so far as his volition is concerned, below -the point of injury; and he is incapable of experiencing all those -states of consciousness, which, in his uninjured state, would be -excited by irritation of those nerves which come off below the injury. -If the spinal cord is divided in the middle of the back, for example, -the skin of the feet may be cut, or pinched, or burned, or wetted -with vitriol, without any sensation of touch, or of pain, arising in -consciousness. So far as the man is concerned, therefore, the part of -the central nervous system which lies beyond the injury is cut off -from consciousness. It must indeed be admitted, that, if any one think -fit to maintain that the spinal cord below the injury is conscious, but -that it is cut off from any means of making its consciousness known to -the other consciousness in the brain, there is no means of driving him -from his position by logic. But assuredly there is no way of proving -it, and in the matter of consciousness, if in anything, we may hold by -the rule, “De non apparentibus et de non existentibus eadem est ratio.” -However near the brain the spinal cord is injured, consciousness -remains intact, except that the irritation of parts below the injury -is no longer represented by sensation. On the other hand, pressure -upon the anterior division of the brain, or extensive injuries to it, -abolish consciousness. Hence, it is a highly probable conclusion, -that consciousness in man depends upon the integrity of the anterior -division of the brain, while the middle and hinder divisions of the -brain, and the rest of the nervous centres, have nothing to do with it. -And it is further highly probable, that what is true for man is true -for other vertebrated animals. - -We may assume, then, that in a living vertebrated animal, any -segment of the cerebro-spinal axis (or spinal cord and brain) -separated from that anterior division of the brain which is the -organ of consciousness, is as completely incapable of giving rise to -consciousness, as we know it to be incapable of carrying out volitions. -Nevertheless, this separated segment of the spinal cord is not passive -and inert. On the contrary, it is the seat of extremely remarkable -powers. In our imaginary case of injury, the man would, as we have -seen, be devoid of sensation in his legs, and would have not the least -power of moving them. But, if the soles of his feet were tickled, the -legs would be drawn up, just as vigorously as they would have been -before the injury. We know exactly what happens when the soles of the -feet are tickled; a molecular change takes place in the sensory nerves -of the skin, and is propagated along them and through the posterior -roots of the spinal nerves, which are constituted by them, to the grey -matter of the spinal cord. Through that grey matter, the molecular -motion is reflected into the anterior roots of the same nerves, -constituted by the filaments which supply the muscles of the legs, and, -travelling along these motor filaments, reaches the muscles, which at -once contract, and cause the limbs to be drawn up. - -In order to move the legs in this way, a definite co-ordination of -muscular contractions is necessary; the muscles must contract in a -certain order and with duly proportioned force; and moreover, as the -feet are drawn away from the source of irritation, it may be said that -the action has a final cause, or is purposive. - -Thus it follows, that the grey matter of the segment of the man’s -spinal cord, though it is devoid of consciousness, nevertheless -responds to a simple stimulus by giving rise to a complex set of -muscular contractions, co-ordinated towards a definite end, and serving -an obvious purpose. - -If the spinal cord of a frog is cut across, so as to provide us with a -segment separated from the brain, we shall have a subject parallel to -the injured man, on which experiments can be made without remorse; as -we have a right to conclude that a frog’s spinal cord is not likely to -be conscious, when a man’s is not. - -Now the frog behaves just as the man did. The legs are utterly -paralysed, so far as voluntary movement is concerned; but they are -vigorously drawn up to the body when any irritant is applied to the -foot. But let us study our frog a little farther. Touch the skin of -the side of the body with a little acetic acid, which gives rise to -all the signs of great pain in an uninjured frog. In this case, there -can be no pain, because the application is made to a part of the skin -supplied with nerves which come off from the cord below the point of -section; nevertheless, the frog lifts up the limb of the same side, -and applies the foot to rub off the acetic acid; and, what is still -more remarkable, if the limb be held so that the frog cannot use it, it -will, by-and-by, move the limb of the other side, turn it across the -body, and use it for the same rubbing process. It is impossible that -the frog, if it were in its entirety and could reason, should perform -actions more purposive than these: and yet we have most complete -assurance that, in this case, the frog is not acting from purpose, has -no consciousness, and is a mere insensible machine. - -But now suppose that, instead of making a section of the cord in the -middle of the body, it had been made in such a manner as to separate -the hindermost division of the brain from the rest of the organ, and -suppose the foremost two-thirds of the brain entirely taken away. The -frog is then absolutely devoid of any spontaneity; it sits upright in -the attitude which a frog habitually assumes; and it will not stir -unless it is touched; but it differs from the frog which I have just -described in this, that, if it be thrown into the water, it begins to -swim, and swims just as well as the perfect frog does. But swimming -requires the combination and successive co-ordination of a great number -of muscular actions. And we are forced to conclude, that the impression -made upon the sensory nerves of the skin of the frog by the contact -with the water into which it is thrown, causes the transmission to the -central nervous apparatus of an impulse, which sets going a certain -machinery by which all the muscles of swimming are brought into play -in due co-ordination. If the frog be stimulated by some irritating -body, it jumps or walks as well as the complete frog can do. The simple -sensory impression, acting through the machinery of the cord, gives -rise to these complex combined movements. - -It is possible to go a step farther. Suppose that only the anterior -division of the brain—so much of it as lies in front of the “optic -lobes”—is removed. If that operation is performed quickly and -skilfully, the frog may be kept in a state of full bodily vigour for -months, or it may be for years; but it will sit unmoved. It sees -nothing; it hears nothing. It will starve sooner than feed itself, -although food put into its mouth is swallowed. On irritation, it jumps -or walks; if thrown into the water it swims. If it be put on the hand, -it sits there, crouched, perfectly quiet, and would sit there for ever. -If the hand be inclined very gently and slowly, so that the frog would -naturally tend to slip off, the creature’s fore paws are shifted on to -the edge of the hand, until he can just prevent himself from falling. -If the turning of the hand be slowly continued, he mounts up with great -care and deliberation, putting first one leg forward and then another, -until he balances himself with perfect precision upon the edge; and, if -the turning of the hand is continued, over he goes through the needful -set of muscular operations, until he comes to be seated in security, -upon the back of the hand. The doing of all this requires a delicacy of -co-ordination, and a precision of adjustment of the muscular apparatus -of the body, which are only comparable to those of a rope-dancer. To -the ordinary influences of light, the frog, deprived of its cerebral -hemispheres, appears to be blind. Nevertheless, if the animal be put -upon a table, with a book at some little distance between it and the -light, and the skin of the hinder part of its body is then irritated, -it will jump forward, avoiding the book by passing to the right or left -of it. Therefore, although the frog appears to have no sensation of -light, visible objects act through its brain upon the motor mechanism -of its body.[51] - -It is obvious, that had Descartes been acquainted with these remarkable -results of modern research, they would have furnished him with far -more powerful arguments than he possessed in favour of his view of -the automatism of brutes. The habits of a frog, leading its natural -life, involve such simple adaptations to surrounding conditions, -that the machinery which is competent to do so much without the -intervention of consciousness, might well do all. And this argument is -vastly strengthened by what has been learned in recent times of the -marvellously complex operations which are performed mechanically, and -to all appearance without consciousness, by men, when, in consequence -of injury or disease, they are reduced to a condition more or less -comparable to that of a frog, in which the anterior part of the brain -has been removed. A case has recently been published by an eminent -French physician, Dr. Mesnet, which illustrates this condition so -remarkably, that I make no apology for dwelling upon it at considerable -length.[52] - -A sergeant of the French army, F——, twenty-seven years of age, was -wounded during the battle of Bazeilles, by a ball which fractured his -left parietal bone. He ran his bayonet through the Prussian soldier who -wounded him, but almost immediately his right arm became paralysed; -after walking about two hundred yards, his right leg became similarly -affected, and he lost his senses. When he recovered them, three weeks -afterwards, in hospital at Mayence, the right half of the body was -completely paralysed, and remained in this condition for a year. At -present, the only trace of the paralysis which remains is a slight -weakness of the right half of the body. Three or four months after -the wound was inflicted, periodical disturbances of the functions of -the brain made their appearance, and have continued ever since. The -disturbances last from fifteen to thirty hours; the intervals at which -they occur being from fifteen to thirty days. - -For four years, therefore, the life of this man has been divided into -alternating phases—short abnormal states intervening between long -normal states. - -In the periods of normal life, the ex-sergeant’s health is perfect; he -is intelligent and kindly, and performs, satisfactorily, the duties of -a hospital attendant. The commencement of the abnormal state is ushered -in by uneasiness and a sense of weight about the forehead, which the -patient compares to the constriction of a circle of iron; and, after -its termination, he complains, for some hours, of dulness and heaviness -of the head. But the transition from the normal to the abnormal state -takes place in a few minutes, without convulsions or cries, and without -anything to indicate the change to a bystander. His movements remain -free and his expression calm, except for a contraction of the brow, an -incessant movement of the eyeballs, and a chewing motion of the jaws. -The eyes are wide open, and their pupils dilated. If the man happens to -be in a place to which he is accustomed, he walks about as usual; but, -if he is in a new place, or if obstacles are intentionally placed in -his way, he stumbles gently against them, stops, and then, feeling over -the objects with his hands, passes on one side of them. He offers no -resistance to any change of direction which may be impressed upon him, -or to the forcible acceleration or retardation of his movements. He -eats, drinks, smokes, walks about, dresses and undresses himself, rises -and goes to bed at the accustomed hours. Nevertheless, pins may be -run into his body, or strong electric shocks sent through it, without -causing the least indication of pain; no odorous substance, pleasant or -unpleasant, makes the least impression; he eats and drinks with avidity -whatever is offered, and takes asafœtida, or vinegar, or quinine, as -readily as water; no noise affects him; and light influences him only -under certain conditions. Dr. Mesnet remarks, that the sense of touch -alone seems to persist, and indeed to be more acute and delicate than -in the normal state; and it is by means of the nerves of touch, almost -exclusively, that his organism is brought into relation with the -external world. Here a difficulty arises. It is clear from the facts -detailed, that the nervous apparatus by which, in the normal state, -sensations of touch are excited, is that by which external influences -determine the movements of the body, in the abnormal state. But does -the state of consciousness, which we term a tactile sensation, -accompany the operation of this nervous apparatus in the abnormal -state? or is consciousness utterly absent, the man being reduced to an -insensible mechanism? - -It is impossible to obtain direct evidence in favour of the one -conclusion or the other; all that can be said is, that the case of the -frog shows that the man may be devoid of any kind of consciousness. - -A further difficult problem is this. The man is insensible to sensory -impressions made through the ear, the nose, the tongue, and, to a great -extent, the eye; nor is he susceptible of pain from causes operating -during his abnormal state. Nevertheless, it is possible so to act upon -his tactile apparatus, as to give rise to those molecular changes in -his sensorium, which are ordinarily the causes of associated trains of -ideas. I give a striking example of this process in Dr. Mesnet’s words:— - - “Il se promenait dans le jardin, sous un massif d’arbres, - on lui remet à la main sa canne qu’il avait laissé - tomber quelques minutes avant. Il la palpe, promène à - plusieurs reprises la main sur la poignée coudée de - sa canne—devient attentif—semble prêter l’oreille—et, - tout-à-coup, appelle ‘Henri!’ Puis, ‘Les voilà! Ils sont - au moins une vingtaine! à nous deux, nous en viendrons à - bout!’ Et alors portant la main derrière son dos comme - pour prendre une cartouche, il fait le mouvement de - charger son arme, se couche dans l’herbe à plat ventre, - la tête cachée par un arbre, dans la position d’un - tirailleur, et suit, l’arme épaulée, tous les mouvements - de l’ennemi qu’il croit voir à courte distance.” - -In a subsequent abnormal period, Dr. Mesnet caused the patient to -repeat this scene by placing him in the same conditions. Now, in this -case, the question arises whether the series of actions constituting -this singular pantomime was accompanied by the ordinary states of -consciousness, the appropriate train of ideas, or not? Did the man -dream that he was skirmishing? or was he in the condition of one of -Vaucauson’s automata—a senseless mechanism worked by molecular changes -in his nervous system? The analogy of the frog shows that the latter -assumption is perfectly justifiable. - -The ex-sergeant has a good voice, and had, at one time, been employed -as a singer at a café. In one of his abnormal states he was observed -to begin humming a tune. He then went to his room, dressed himself -carefully, and took up some parts of a periodical novel, which lay on -his bed, as if he were trying to find something. Dr. Mesnet, suspecting -that he was seeking his music, made up one of these into a roll and -put it into his hand. He appeared satisfied, took up his cane and went -down-stairs to the door. Here Dr. Mesnet turned him round, and he -walked quite contentedly, in the opposite direction, towards the room -of the concièrge. The light of the sun shining through a window now -happened to fall upon him, and seemed to suggest the footlights of the -stage on which he was accustomed to make his appearance. He stopped, -opened his roll of imaginary music, put himself into the attitude of a -singer, and sang, with perfect execution, three songs, one after the -other. After which he wiped his face with his handkerchief and drank, -without a grimace, a tumbler of strong vinegar and water which was put -into his hand. - -An experiment which may be performed upon the frog deprived of the -fore part of its brain, well known as Göltz’s “Quak-versuch,” affords -a parallel to this performance. If the skin of a certain part of the -back of such a frog is gently stroked with the finger, it immediately -croaks. It never croaks unless it is so stroked, and the croak always -follows the stroke, just as the sound of a repeater follows the -touching of the spring. In the frog, this “song” is innate—so to speak -_à priori_—and depends upon a mechanism in the brain governing the -vocal apparatus, which is set at work by the molecular change set up in -the sensory nerves of the skin of the back by the contact of a foreign -body. - -In man there is also a vocal mechanism, and the cry of an infant is -in the same sense innate and _à priori_, inasmuch as it depends on an -organic relation between its sensory nerves and the nervous mechanism -which governs the vocal apparatus. Learning to speak, and learning to -sing, are processes by which the vocal mechanism is set to new tunes. -A song which has been learned has its molecular equivalent, which -potentially represents it in the brain, just as a musical box wound up -potentially represents an overture. Touch the stop and the overture -begins; send a molecular impulse along the proper afferent nerve and -the singer begins his song. - -Again, the manner in which the frog, though apparently insensible to -light, is yet, under some circumstances, influenced by visual images, -finds a singular parallel in the case of the ex-sergeant. - -Sitting at a table, in one of his abnormal states, he took up a -pen, felt for paper and ink, and began to write a letter to his -general, in which he recommended himself for a medal, on account of -his good conduct and courage. It occurred to Dr. Mesnet to ascertain -experimentally how far vision was concerned in this act of writing. He -therefore interposed a screen between the man’s eyes and his hands; -under these circumstances he went on writing for a short time, but the -words became illegible, and he finally stopped, without manifesting -any discontent. On the withdrawal of the screen he began to write -again where he had left off. The substitution of water for ink in the -inkstand had a similar result. He stopped, looked at his pen, wiped it -on his coat, dipped it in the water, and began again, with the same -effect. - -On one occasion, he began to write upon the topmost of ten superimposed -sheets of paper. After he had written a line or two, this sheet was -suddenly drawn away. There was a slight expression of surprise, but he -continued his letter on the second sheet exactly as if it had been the -first. This operation was repeated five times, so that the fifth sheet -contained nothing but the writer’s signature at the bottom of the page. -Nevertheless, when the signature was finished, his eyes turned to the -top of the blank sheet, and he went through the form of reading over -what he had written, a movement of the lips accompanying each word; -moreover, with his pen, he put in such corrections as were needed, in -that part of the blank page which corresponded with the position of the -words which required correction, in the sheets which had been taken -away. If the five sheets had been transparent, therefore, they would, -when superposed, have formed a properly written and corrected letter. - -Immediately after he had written his letter, F—— got up, walked down -to the garden, made himself a cigarette, lighted and smoked it. He was -about to prepare another, but sought in vain for his tobacco-pouch, -which had been purposely taken away. The pouch was now thrust before -his eyes and put under his nose, but he neither saw nor smelt it; but, -when it was placed in his hand, he at once seized it, made a fresh -cigarette, and ignited a match to light the latter. The match was blown -out, and another lighted match placed close before his eyes, but he -made no attempt to take it; and, if his cigarette was lighted for him, -he made no attempt to smoke. All this time the eyes were vacant, and -neither winked, nor exhibited any contraction of the pupils. From these -and other experiments, Dr. Mesnet draws the conclusion that his patient -sees some things and not others; that the sense of sight is accessible -to all things which are brought into relation with him by the sense of -touch, and, on the contrary, insensible to things which lie outside -this relation. He sees the match he holds, and does not see any other. - -Just so the frog “sees” the book which is in the way of his jump, at -the same time that isolated visual impressions take no effect upon -him.[53] - -As I have pointed out, it is impossible to prove that F—— is absolutely -unconscious in his abnormal state, but it is no less impossible to -prove the contrary; and the case of the frog goes a long way to -justify the assumption that, in the abnormal state, the man is a mere -insensible machine. - -If such facts as these had come under the knowledge of Descartes, would -they not have formed an apt commentary upon that remarkable passage in -the “Traité de l’Homme,” which I have quoted elsewhere,[54] but which -is worth repetition?— - - “All the functions which I have attributed to this - machine (the body), as the digestion of food, the - pulsation of the heart and of the arteries; the nutrition - and the growth of the limbs; respiration, wakefulness, - and sleep; the reception of light, sounds, odours, - flavours, heat, and such like qualities, in the organs of - the external senses; the impression of the ideas of these - in the organ of common sensation and in the imagination; - the retention or the impression of these ideas on the - memory: the internal movements of the appetites and the - passions; and lastly the external movements of all the - limbs, which follow so aptly, as well the action of - the objects which are presented to the senses, as the - impressions which meet in the memory, that they imitate - as nearly as possible those of a real man; I desire, I - say, that you should consider that these functions in the - machine naturally proceed from the mere arrangement of - its organs, neither more nor less than do the movements - of a clock, or other automaton, from that of its weights - and its wheels; so that, so far as these are concerned, - it is not necessary to conceive any other vegetative or - sensitive soul, nor any other principle of motion or of - life, than the blood and the spirits agitated by the fire - which burns continually in the heart, and which is no - wise essentially different from all the fires which exist - in inanimate bodies.” - -And would Descartes not have been justified in asking why we need deny -that animals are machines, when men, in a state of unconsciousness, -perform, mechanically, actions as complicated and as seemingly rational -as those of any animals? - -But though I do not think that Descartes’ hypothesis can be positively -refuted, I am not disposed to accept it. The doctrine of continuity -is too well established for it to be permissible to me to suppose -that any complex natural phenomenon comes into existence suddenly, -and without being preceded by simpler modifications; and very strong -arguments would be needed to prove that such complex phenomena, as -those of consciousness, first make their appearance in man. We know, -that, in the individual man, consciousness grows from a dim glimmer to -its full light, whether we consider the infant advancing in years, or -the adult emerging from slumber and swoon. We know, further, that the -lower animals possess, though less developed, that part of the brain -which we have every reason to believe to be the organ of consciousness -in man; and as, in other cases, function and organ are proportional, so -we have a right to conclude it is with the brain; and that the brutes, -though they may not possess our intensity of consciousness, and though, -from the absence of language, they can have no trains of thoughts, but -only trains of feelings, yet have a consciousness which, more or less -distinctly, foreshadows our own. - -I confess that, in view of the struggle for existence which goes on -in the animal world, and of the frightful quantity of pain with which -it must be accompanied, I should be glad if the probabilities were in -favour of Descartes’ hypothesis; but, on the other hand, considering -the terrible practical consequences to domestic animals which might -ensue from any error on our part, it is as well to err on the right -side, if we err at all, and deal with them as weaker brethren, who are -bound, like the rest of us, to pay their toll for living, and suffer -what is needful for the general good. As Hartley finely says, “We -seem to be in the place of God to them;” and we may justly follow the -precedents He sets in nature in our dealings with them. - -But though we may see reason to disagree with Descartes’ hypothesis -that brutes are unconscious machines, it does not follow that he -was wrong in regarding them as automata. They may be more or less -conscious, sensitive, automata; and the view that they are such -conscious machines is that which is implicitly, or explicitly, adopted -by most persons. When we speak of the actions of the lower animals -being guided by instinct and not by reason, what we really mean is -that, though they feel as we do, yet their actions are the results -of their physical organisation. We believe, in short, that they are -machines, one part of which (the nervous system) not only sets the rest -in motion, and co-ordinates its movements in relation with changes -in surrounding bodies, but is provided with special apparatus, the -function of which is the calling into existence of those states of -consciousness which are termed sensations, emotions, and ideas. I -believe that this generally accepted view is the best expression of the -facts at present known. - -It is experimentally demonstrable—any one who cares to run a pin into -himself may perform a sufficient demonstration of the fact—that a mode -of motion of the nervous system is the immediate antecedent of a state -of consciousness. All but the adherents of “Occasionalism,” or of the -doctrine of “Pre-established Harmony” (if any such now exist), must -admit that we have as much reason for regarding the mode of motion -of the nervous system as the cause of the state of consciousness, as -we have for regarding any event as the cause of another. How the one -phenomenon causes the other we know, as much or as little, as in any -other case of causation; but we have as much right to believe that the -sensation is an effect of the molecular change, as we have to believe -that motion is an effect of impact; and there is as much propriety in -saying that the brain evolves sensation, as there is in saying that an -iron rod, when hammered, evolves heat. - -As I have endeavoured to show, we are justified in supposing that -something analogous to what happens in ourselves takes place in the -brutes, and that the affections of their sensory nerves give rise to -molecular changes in the brain, which again give rise to, or evolve, -the corresponding states of consciousness. Nor can there be any -reasonable doubt that the emotions of brutes, and such ideas as they -possess, are similarly dependent upon molecular brain changes. Each -sensory impression leaves behind a record in the structure of the -brain—an “ideagenous” molecule, so to speak, which is competent, under -certain conditions, to reproduce, in a fainter condition, the state of -consciousness which corresponds with that sensory impression; and it is -these “ideagenous molecules” which are the physical basis of memory. - -It may be assumed, then, that molecular changes in the brain are the -causes of all the states of consciousness of brutes. Is there any -evidence that these states of consciousness may, conversely, cause -those molecular changes which give rise to muscular motion? I see -no such evidence. The frog walks, hops, swims, and goes through his -gymnastic performances quite as well without consciousness, and -consequently without volition, as with it; and, if a frog, in his -natural state, possesses anything corresponding with what we call -volition, there is no reason to think that it is anything but a -concomitant of the molecular changes in the brain which form part of -the series involved in the production of motion. - -The consciousness of brutes would appear to be related to the mechanism -of their body simply as a collateral product of its working, and to -be as completely without any power of modifying that working as the -steam-whistle which accompanies the work of a locomotive engine is -without influence upon its machinery. Their volition, if they have -any, is an emotion indicative of physical changes, not a cause of such -changes. - -This conception of the relations of states of consciousness with -molecular changes in the brain—of _psychoses_ with _neuroses_—does not -prevent us from ascribing free will to brutes. For an agent is free -when there is nothing to prevent him from doing that which he desires -to do. If a greyhound chases a hare, he is a free agent, because his -action is in entire accordance with his strong desire to catch the -hare; while so long as he is held back by the leash he is not free, -being prevented by external force from following his inclination. -And the ascription of freedom to the greyhound under the former -circumstances is by no means inconsistent with the other aspect of -the facts of the case—that he is a machine impelled to the chase, and -caused, at the same time, to have the desire to catch the game by the -impression which the rays of light proceeding from the hare make upon -his eyes, and through them upon his brain. - -Much ingenious argument has, at various times, been bestowed upon the -question: How is it possible to imagine that volition, which is a state -of consciousness, and, as such, has not the slightest community of -nature with matter in motion, can act upon the moving matter of which -the body is composed, as it is assumed to do in voluntary acts? But -if, as is here suggested, the voluntary acts of brutes—or, in other -words, the acts which they desire to perform—are as purely mechanical -as the rest of their actions, and are simply accompanied by the state -of consciousness called volition, the inquiry, so far as they are -concerned, becomes superfluous. Their volitions do not enter into the -chain of causation of their actions at all. - -The hypothesis that brutes are conscious automata is perfectly -consistent with any view that may be held respecting the often -discussed and curious question whether they have souls or not; and, -if they have souls, whether those souls are immortal or not. It is -obviously harmonious with the most literal adherence to the text -of Scripture concerning “the beast that perisheth;” but it is not -inconsistent with the amiable conviction ascribed by Pope to his -“untutored savage,” that when he passes to the happy hunting-grounds -in the sky, “his faithful dog shall bear him company.” If the brutes -have consciousness and no souls, then it is clear that, in them, -consciousness is a direct function of material changes; while, if -they possess immaterial subjects of consciousness, or souls, then, -as consciousness is brought into existence only as the consequence -of molecular motion of the brain, it follows that it is an indirect -product of material changes. The soul stands related to the body as the -bell of a clock to the works, and consciousness answers to the sound -which the bell gives out when it is struck. - -Thus far I have strictly confined myself to the problem with which I -proposed to deal at starting—the automatism of brutes. The question -is, I believe, a perfectly open one, and I feel happy in running -no risk of either Papal or Presbyterian condemnation for the views -which I have ventured to put forward. And there are so very few -interesting questions which one is, at present, allowed to think out -scientifically—to go as far as reason leads, and stop where evidence -comes to an end—without speedily being deafened by the tattoo of “the -drum ecclesiastic”—that I have luxuriated in my rare freedom, and would -now willingly bring this disquisition to an end if I could hope that -other people would go no farther. Unfortunately, past experience debars -me from entertaining any such hope, even if - - “... that drum’s discordant sound - Parading round and round and round,” - -were not, at present, as audible to me, as it was to the mild poet who -ventured to express his hatred of drums in general, in that well-known -couplet. - -It will be said, that I mean that the conclusions deduced from the -study of the brutes are applicable to man, and that the logical -consequences of such application are fatalism, materialism, and -atheism—whereupon the drums will beat the _pas de charge_. - -One does not do battle with drummers; but I venture to offer a few -remarks for the calm consideration of thoughtful persons, untrammelled -by foregone conclusions, unpledged to shore-up tottering dogmas, and -anxious only to know the true bearings of the case. - -It is quite true that, to the best of my judgment, the argumentation -which applies to brutes holds equally good of men; and, therefore, that -all states of consciousness in us, as in them, are immediately caused -by molecular changes of the brain-substance. It seems to me that in -men, as in brutes, there is no proof that any state of consciousness -is the cause of change in the motion of the matter of the organism. If -these positions are well based, it follows that our mental conditions -are simply the symbols in consciousness of the changes which take -place automatically in the organism; and that, to take an extreme -illustration, the feeling we call volition is not the cause of a -voluntary act, but the symbol of that state of the brain which is -the immediate cause of that act. We are conscious automata, endowed -with free will in the only intelligible sense of that much-abused -term—inasmuch as in many respects we are able to do as we like—but -none the less parts of the great series of causes and effects which, in -unbroken continuity, composes that which is, and has been, and shall -be—the sum of existence. - -As to the logical consequences of this conviction of mine, I may be -permitted to remark that logical consequences are the scarecrows of -fools and the beacons of wise men. The only question which any wise man -can ask himself, and which any honest man will ask himself, is whether -a doctrine is true or false. Consequences will take care of themselves; -at most their importance can only justify us in testing with extra care -the reasoning process from which they result. - -So that if the view I have taken did really and logically lead to -fatalism, materialism, and atheism, I should profess myself a fatalist, -materialist, and atheist; and I should look upon those who, while they -believed in my honesty of purpose and intellectual competency, should -raise a hue and cry against me, as people who by their own admission -preferred lying to truth, and whose opinions therefore were unworthy of -the smallest attention. - -But, as I have endeavoured to explain on other occasions, I really have -no claim to rank myself among fatalistic, materialistic, or atheistic -philosophers. Not among fatalists, for I take the conception of -necessity to have a logical, and not a physical foundation; not among -materialists, for I am utterly incapable of conceiving the existence -of matter if there is no mind in which to picture that existence; not -among atheists, for the problem of the ultimate cause of existence is -one which seems to me to be hopelessly out of reach of my poor powers. -Of all the senseless babble I have ever had occasion to read, the -demonstrations of these philosophers who undertake to tell us all about -the nature of God would be the worst, if they were not surpassed by the -still greater absurdities of the philosophers who try to prove that -there is no God. - -And if this personal disclaimer should not be enough, let me further -point out that a great many persons whose acuteness and learning will -not be contested, and whose Christian piety, and, in some cases, strict -orthodoxy, are above suspicion, have held more or less definitely the -view that man is a conscious automaton. - -It is held, for example, in substance, by the whole school of -predestinarian theologians, typified by St. Augustine, Calvin, and -Jonathan Edwards—the great work of the latter on the will showing -in this, as in other cases, that the growth of physical science has -introduced no new difficulties of principle into theological problems, -but has merely given visible body, as it were, to those which already -existed. - -Among philosophers, the pious Geulincx and the whole school of -occasionalist Cartesians held this view; the orthodox Leibnitz invented -the term “automate spirituel,” and applied it to man; the fervent -Christian, Hartley, was one of the chief advocates and best expositors -of the doctrine; while another zealous apologist of Christianity in -a sceptical age, and a contemporary of Hartley, Charles Bonnet, the -Genevese naturalist, has embodied the doctrine in language of such -precision and simplicity, that I will quote the little-known passage of -his “Essai de Psychologie” at length:— - - -“ANOTHER HYPOTHESIS CONCERNING THE MECHANISM OF IDEAS.[55] - - “Philosophers accustomed to judge of things by that which - they are in themselves, and not by their relation to - received ideas, would not be shocked if they met with - the proposition that the soul is a mere spectator of - the movements of its body: that the latter performs of - itself all that series of actions which constitutes life: - that it moves of itself: that it is the body alone which - reproduces ideas, compares and arranges them; which forms - reasonings, imagines and executes plans of all kinds, - etc. This hypothesis, though perhaps of an excessive - boldness, nevertheless deserves some consideration. - - “It is not to be denied that Supreme Power could create - an automaton which should exactly imitate all the - external and internal actions of man. - - “I understand by external actions, all those movements - which pass under our eyes; I term internal actions, all - the motions which in the natural state cannot be observed - because they take place in the interior of the body—such - as the movements of digestion, circulation, sensation, - etc. Moreover, I include in this category the movements - which give rise to ideas, whatever be their nature. - - “In the automaton which we are considering everything - would be precisely determined. Everything would occur - according to the rules of the most admirable mechanism: - one state would succeed another state, one operation - would lead to another operation, according to invariable - laws; motion would become alternately cause and effect, - effect and cause; reaction would answer to action, and - reproduction to production. - - “Constructed with definite relations to the activity - of the beings which compose the world, the automaton - would receive impressions from it, and, in faithful - correspondence thereto, it would execute a corresponding - series of motions. - - “Indifferent towards any determination, it would yield - equally to all, if the first impressions did not, so to - speak, wind up the machine and decide its operations and - its course. - - “The series of movements which this automaton could - execute would distinguish it from all others formed on - the same model, but which, not having been placed in - similar circumstances, would not have experienced the - same impressions, or would not have experienced them in - the same order. - - “The senses of the automaton, set in motion by the - objects presented to it, would communicate their motion - to the brain, the chief motor apparatus of the machine. - This would put in action the muscles of the hands and - feet, in virtue of their secret connection with the - senses. These muscles, alternately contracted and - dilated, would approximate or remove the automaton from - the objects, in the relation which they would bear to the - conservation or the destruction of the machine. - - “The motions of perception and sensation which the - objects would have impressed on the brain, would be - preserved in it by the energy of its mechanism. They - would become more vivid according to the actual condition - of the automaton, considered in itself and relatively to - the objects. - - “Words being only the motions impressed on the organ - of hearing and that of voice, the diversity of these - movements, their combination, the order in which they - would succeed one another, would represent judgments, - reasoning, and all the operations of the mind. - - “A close correspondence between the organs of the senses, - either by the opening into one another of their nervous - ramifications, or by interposed springs (_ressorts_), - would establish such a connection in their working, that, - on the occasion of the movements impressed on one of - these organs, other movements would be excited, or would - become more vivid in some of the other senses. - - “Give the automaton a soul which contemplates its - movements, which believes itself to be the author of - them, which has different volitions on the occasion of - the different movements, and you will on this hypothesis - construct a man. - - “But would this man be free? Can the feeling of our - liberty, this feeling which is so clear and so distinct - and so vivid as to persuade us that we are the authors of - our actions, be conciliated with this hypothesis? If it - removes the difficulty which attends the conception of - the action of the soul on the body, on the other hand it - leaves untouched that which meets us in endeavouring to - conceive the action of the body on the soul.” - -But if Leibnitz, Jonathan Edwards, and Hartley—men who rank among -the giants of the world of thought—could see no antagonism between -the doctrine under discussion and Christian orthodoxy, is it not -just possible that smaller folk may be wrong in making such a coil -about “logical consequences”? And, seeing how large a share of this -clamour is raised by the clergy of one denomination or another, may -I say, in conclusion, that it really would be well if ecclesiastical -persons would reflect that ordination, whatever deep-seated graces -it may confer, has never been observed to be followed by any visible -increase in the learning or the logic of its subject. Making a man a -Bishop, or entrusting him with the office of ministering to even the -largest of Presbyterian congregations, or setting him up to lecture to -a Church congress, really does not in the smallest degree augment such -title to respect as his opinions may intrinsically possess. And, when -such a man presumes on an authority which was conferred upon him for -other purposes, to sit in judgment upon matters his incompetence to -deal with which is patent, it is permissible to ignore his sacerdotal -pretensions, and to tell him, as one would tell a mere common, -unconsecrated, layman: that it is not necessary for any man to occupy -himself with problems of this kind unless he so choose; life is filled -full enough by the performance of its ordinary and obvious duties. But -that, if a man elect to become a judge of these grave questions; still -more, if he assume the responsibility of attaching praise or blame -to his fellow-men for the conclusions at which they arrive touching -them, he will commit a sin more grievous than most breaches of the -Decalogue, unless he avoid a lazy reliance upon the information that -is gathered by prejudice and filtered through passion, unless he go -back to the prime sources of knowledge—the facts of nature, and the -thoughts of those wise men who for generations past have been her best -interpreters. - - - - -X. - -ON SENSATION AND THE UNITY OF STRUCTURE OF SENSIFEROUS ORGANS. - - -The maxim that metaphysical inquiries are barren of result, and that -the serious occupation of the mind with them is a mere waste of time -and labour, finds much favour in the eyes of the many persons who -pride themselves on the possession of sound common sense; and we -sometimes hear it enunciated by weighty authorities, as if its natural -consequence, the suppression of such studies, had the force of a moral -obligation. - -In this case, however, as in some others, those who lay down the law -seem to forget that a wise legislator will consider, not merely whether -his proposed enactment is desirable, but whether obedience to it is -possible. For, if the latter question is answered negatively, the -former is surely hardly worth debate. - -Here, in fact, lies the pith of the reply to those who would make -metaphysics contraband of intellect. Whether it is desirable to -place a prohibitory duty upon philosophical speculations or not, it -is utterly impossible to prevent the importation of them into the -mind. And it is not a little curious to observe that those who most -loudly profess to abstain from such commodities are, all the while, -unconscious consumers, on a great scale, of one or other of their -multitudinous disguises or adulterations. With mouths full of the -particular kind of heavily buttered toast which they affect, they -inveigh against the eating of plain bread. In truth, the attempt to -nourish the human intellect upon a diet which contains no metaphysics -is about as hopeful as that of certain Eastern sages to nourish their -bodies without destroying life. Everybody has heard the story of the -pitiless microscopist, who ruined the peace of mind of one of these -mild enthusiasts by showing him the animals moving in a drop of the -water with which, in the innocency of his heart, he slaked his thirst; -and the unsuspecting devotee of plain common sense may look for as -unexpected a shock when the magnifier of severe logic reveals the -germs, if not the full-grown shapes, of lively metaphysical postulates -rampant amidst his most positive and matter-of-fact notions. - -By way of escape from the metaphysical Will-o’-the-wisps generated -in the marshes of literature and theology, the serious student is -sometimes bidden to betake himself to the solid ground of physical -science. But the fish of immortal memory, who threw himself out of the -frying-pan into the fire, was not more ill advised than the man who -seeks sanctuary from philosophical persecution within the walls of -the observatory or of the laboratory. It is said that “metaphysics” -owe their name to the fact that, in Aristotle’s works, questions of -pure philosophy are dealt with immediately after those of physics. If -so, the accident is happily symbolical of the essential relations of -things; for metaphysical speculation follows as closely upon physical -theory as black care upon the horseman. - -One need but mention such fundamental, and indeed indispensable, -conceptions of the natural philosopher as those of atoms and forces: -or that of attraction considered as action at a distance; or that of -potential energy; or the antinomies of a vacuum and a plenum; to call -to mind the metaphysical background of physics and chemistry; while, in -the biological sciences, the case is still worse. What is an individual -among the lower plants and animals? Are genera and species realities or -abstractions? Is there such a thing as Vital Force? or does the name -denote a mere relic of metaphysical fetichism? Is the doctrine of final -causes legitimate or illegitimate? These are a few of the metaphysical -topics which are suggested by the most elementary study of biological -facts. But, more than this, it may be truly said that the roots of -every system of philosophy lie deep among the facts of physiology. No -one can doubt that the organs and the functions of sensation are as -much a part of the province of the physiologist, as are the organs and -functions of motion, or those of digestion; and yet it is impossible -to gain an acquaintance with even the rudiments of the physiology of -sensation without being led straight to one of the most fundamental of -all metaphysical problems. In fact, the sensory operations have been, -from time immemorial, the battle-ground of philosophers. - -I have more than once taken occasion to point out that we are -indebted to Descartes, who happened to be a physiologist as well as -a philosopher, for the first distinct enunciation of the essential -elements of the true theory of sensation. In later times, it is not to -the works of the philosophers, if Hartley and James Mill are excepted, -but to those of the physiologists, that we must turn for an adequate -account of the sensory process. Haller’s luminous, though summary, -account of sensation in his admirable “Primæ Lineæ,” the first edition -of which was printed in 1747, offers a striking contrast to the -prolixity and confusion of thought which pervade Reid’s “Inquiry,” of -seventeen years’ later date.[56] Even Sir William Hamilton, learned -historian and acute critic as he was, not only failed to apprehend the -philosophical bearing of long-established physiological truths; but, -when he affirmed that there is no reason to deny that the mind feels at -the finger points, and none to assert that the brain is the sole organ -of thought,[57] he showed that he had not apprehended the significance -of the revolution commenced, two hundred years before his time, by -Descartes, and effectively followed up by Haller, Hartley, and Bonnet, -in the middle of the last century. - -In truth, the theory of sensation, except in one point, is, at the -present moment, very much where Hartley, led by a hint of Sir Isaac -Newton’s, left it, when, a hundred and twenty years since, the -“Observations on Man: his Frame, his Duty, and his Expectations,” was -laid before the world. The whole matter is put in a nutshell in the -following passages of this notable book. - - “External objects impressed upon the senses occasion, - first on the nerves on which they are impressed, and then - on the brain, vibrations of the small and, as we may say, - infinitesimal medullary particles. - - “These vibrations are motions backwards and forwards - of the small particles; of the same kind with the - oscillations of pendulums and the tremblings of the - particles of sounding bodies. They must be conceived to - be exceedingly short and small, so as not to have the - least efficacy to disturb or move the whole bodies of the - nerves or brain.”[58] - - “The white medullary substance of the brain is also the - immediate instrument by which ideas are presented to - the mind; or, in other words, whatever changes are made - in this substance, corresponding changes are made in our - ideas; and _vice versa_.”[59] - -Hartley, like Haller, had no conception of the nature and functions of -the grey matter of the brain. But, if for “white medullary substance,” -in the latter paragraph, we substitute “grey cellular substance,” -Hartley’s propositions embody the most probable conclusions which are -to be drawn from the latest investigations of physiologists. In order -to judge how completely this is the case, it will be well to study some -simple case of sensation, and, following the example of Reid and of -James Mill, we may begin with the sense of smell. Suppose that I become -aware of a musky scent, to which the name of “muskiness” may be given. -I call this an odour, and I class it along with the feelings of light, -colours, sounds, tastes, and the like, among those phenomena which are -known as sensations. To say that I am aware of this phenomenon, or that -I have it, or that it exists, are simply different modes of affirming -the same facts. If I am asked how I know that it exists, I can only -reply that its existence and my knowledge of it are one and the same -thing; in short, that my knowledge is immediate or intuitive, and, as -such, is possessed of the highest conceivable degree of certainty. - -The pure sensation of muskiness is almost sure to be followed by -a mental state which is not a sensation, but a belief, that there -is somewhere close at hand a something on which the existence of -the sensation depends. It may be a musk-deer, or a musk-rat, or a -musk-plant, or a grain of dry musk, or simply a scented handkerchief; -but former experience leads us to believe that the sensation is due to -the presence of one or other of these objects, and that it will vanish -if the object is removed. In other words, there arises a belief in an -external cause of the muskiness, which, in common language, is termed -an odorous body. - -But the manner in which this belief is usually put into words is -strangely misleading. If we are dealing with a musk-plant, for example, -we do not confine ourselves to a simple statement of that which we -believe, and say that the musk-plant is the cause of the sensation -called muskiness; but we say that the plant has a musky smell, and -we speak of the odour as a quality, or property, inherent in the -plant. And the inevitable reaction of words upon thought has in this -case become so complete, and has penetrated so deeply, that when an -accurate statement of the case—namely, that muskiness, inasmuch as -the term denotes nothing but a sensation, is a mental state, and has -no existence except as a mental phenomenon—is first brought under the -notice of common-sense folks, it is usually regarded by them as what -they are pleased to call a mere metaphysical paradox and a patent -example of useless subtlety. Yet the slightest reflection must suffice -to convince any one possessed of sound reasoning faculties, that it is -as absurd to suppose that muskiness is a quality inherent in one plant, -as it would be to imagine that pain is a quality inherent in another, -because we feel pain when a thorn pricks the finger. - -Even the common-sense philosopher, _par excellence_, says of smell: “It -appears to be a simple and original affection or feeling of the mind, -altogether inexplicable and unaccountable. It is indeed impossible that -it can be in any body: it is a sensation, and a sensation can only be -in a sentient thing.”[60] - -That which is true of muskiness is true of every other odour. -Lavender-smell, clove-smell, garlic-smell, are, like “muskiness,” names -of states of consciousness, and have no existence except as such. -But, in ordinary language, we speak of all these odours as if they -were independent entities residing in lavender, cloves, and garlic; -and it is not without a certain struggle that the false metaphysic of -so-called common sense, thus ingrained in us, is expelled. - -For the present purpose, it is unnecessary to inquire into the origin -of our belief in external bodies, or into that of the notion of -causation. Assuming the existence of an external world, there is no -difficulty in obtaining experimental proof that, as a general rule, -olfactory sensations are caused by odorous bodies; and we may pass on -to the next step of the inquiry—namely, how the odorous body produces -the effect attributed to it. - -The first point to be noted here is another fact revealed by -experience; that the appearance of the sensation is governed, not only -by the presence of the odorous substance, but by the condition of a -certain part of our corporeal structure, the nose. If the nostrils are -closed, the presence of the odorous substance does not give rise to -the sensation; while, when they are open, the sensation is intensified -by the approximation of the odorous substance to them, and by snuffing -up the adjacent air in such a manner as to draw it into the nose. On -the other hand, looking at an odorous substance, or rubbing it on the -skin, or holding it to the ear, does not awaken the sensation. Thus, -it can be readily established by experiment that the perviousness of -the nasal passages is, in some way, essential to the sensory function; -in fact, that the organ of that function is lodged somewhere in the -nasal passages. And, since odorous bodies give rise to their effects at -considerable distances, the suggestion is obvious that something must -pass from them into the sense organ. What is this “something,” which -plays the part of an intermediary between the odorous body and the -sensory organ? - -The oldest speculation about the matter dates back to Democritus and -the Epicurean School, and it is to be found fully stated in the fourth -book of Lucretius. It comes to this: that the surfaces of bodies -are constantly throwing off excessively attenuated films of their -own substance: and that these films, reaching the mind, excite the -appropriate sensations in it. - -Aristotle did not admit the existence of any such material films, but -conceived that it was the form of the substance, and not its matter, -which affected sense, as a seal impresses wax, without losing anything -in the process. While many, if not the majority, of the Schoolmen took -up an intermediate position and supposed that a something, which was -not exactly either material or immaterial, and which they called an -“intentional species,” effected the needful communication between the -bodily cause of sensation and the mind. - -But all these notions, whatever may be said for or against them in -general, are fundamentally defective, by reason of an oversight -which was inevitable, in the state of knowledge at the time in which -they were promulgated. What the older philosophers did not know, and -could not know, before the anatomist and the physiologist had done -their work, is that, between the external object and that mind in -which they supposed the sensation to inhere, there lies a physical -obstacle. The sense organ is not a mere passage by which the “tenuia -simulacra rerum,” or the “intentional species” cast off by objects, -or the “forms” of sensible things, pass straight to the mind; on the -contrary, it stands as a firm and impervious barrier, through which no -material particle of the world without can make its way to the world -within. - -Let us consider the olfactory sense organ more nearly. Each of the -nostrils leads into a passage completely separated from the other -by a partition, and these two passages place the nostrils in free -communication with the back of the throat, so that they freely transmit -the air passing to the lungs when the mouth is shut, as in ordinary -breathing. The floor of each passage is flat, but its roof is a high -arch, the crown of which is seated between the orbital cavities of the -skull, which serve for the lodgment and protection of the eyes; and -it therefore lies behind the apparent limits of that feature which, -in ordinary language, is called the nose. From the side walls of the -upper and back part of these arched chambers, certain delicate plates -of bone project, and these, as well as a considerable part of the -partition between the two chambers, are covered by a fine, soft, moist -membrane. It is to this “Schneiderian,” or olfactory, membrane that -odorous bodies must obtain direct access, if they are to give rise -to their appropriate sensations; and it is upon the relatively large -surface, which the olfactory membrane offers, that we must seek for -the seat of the organ of the olfactory sense. The only essential part -of that organ consists of a multitude of minute rod-like bodies, set -perpendicularly to the surface of the membrane, and forming a part of -the cellular coat, or epithelium, which covers the olfactory membrane, -as the epidermis covers the skin. In the case of the olfactory sense, -there can be no doubt that the Democritic hypothesis, at any rate for -such odorous substances as musk, has a good foundation. Infinitesimal -particles of musk fly off from the surface of the odorous body, and, -becoming diffused through the air, are carried into the nasal passages, -and thence into the olfactory chambers, where they come into contact -with the filamentous extremities of the delicate olfactory epithelium. - -But this is not all. The “mind” is not, so to speak, upon the other -side of the epithelium. On the contrary, the inner ends of the -olfactory cells are connected with nerve fibres, and these nerve -fibres, passing into the cavity of the skull, at length end in a -part of the brain, the olfactory sensorium. It is certain that the -integrity of each, and the physical inter-connection of all these three -structures, the epithelium of the sensory organ, the nerve fibres, -and the sensorium, are essential conditions of ordinary sensation. -That is to say, the air in the olfactory chambers may be charged with -particles of musk; but, if either the epithelium, or the nerve fibres, -or the sensorium is injured, or if they are physically disconnected -from one another, sensation will not arise. Moreover, the epithelium -may be said to be receptive, the nerve fibres transmissive, and the -sensorium sensifacient. For, in the act of smelling, the particles of -the odorous substance produce a molecular change (which Hartley was in -all probability right in terming a vibration) in the epithelium, and -this change being transmitted to the nerve fibres, passes along them -with a measurable velocity, and, finally reaching the sensorium, is -immediately followed by the sensation. - -Thus, modern investigation supplies a representative of the Epicurean -simulacra in the volatile particles of the musk; but it also gives us -the stamp of the particles on the olfactory epithelium, without any -transmission of matter, as the equivalent of the Aristotelian “form;” -while, finally, the modes of motion of the molecules of the olfactory -cells, of the nerve, and of the cerebral sensorium, which are Hartley’s -vibrations, may stand very well for a double of the “intentional -species” of the Schoolmen. And this last remark is not intended merely -to suggest a fanciful parallel; for, if the cause of the sensation is, -as analogy suggests, to be sought in the mode of motion of the object -of sense, then it is quite possible that the particular mode of motion -of the object is reproduced in the sensorium; exactly as the diaphragm -of a telephone reproduces the mode of motion taken up at its receiving -end. In other words, the secondary “intentional species” may be, as the -Schoolmen thought the primary one was, the last link between matter and -mind. - -None the less, however, does it remain true that no similarity exists, -nor indeed is conceivable, between the cause of the sensation and the -sensation. Attend as closely to the sensations of muskiness, or any -other odour, as we will, no trace of extension, resistance, or motion -is discernible in them. They have no attribute in common with those -which we ascribe to matter; they are, in the strictest sense of the -words, immaterial entities. - -Thus, the most elementary study of sensation justifies Descartes’ -position, that we know more of mind than we do of body; that the -immaterial world is a firmer reality than the material. For the -sensation “muskiness” is known immediately. So long as it persists, -it is a part of what we call our thinking selves, and its existence -lies beyond the possibility of doubt. The knowledge of an objective or -material cause of the sensation, on the other hand, is mediate; it is -a belief as contradistinguished from an intuition; and it is a belief -which, in any given instance of sensation, may, by possibility, be -devoid of foundation. For odours, like other sensations, may arise from -the occurrence of the appropriate molecular changes in the nerve or in -the sensorium, by the operation of a cause distinct from the affection -of the sense organ by an odorous body. Such “subjective” sensations -are as real existences as any others, and as distinctly suggest an -external odorous object as their cause; but the belief thus generated -is a delusion. And, if beliefs are properly termed “testimonies of -consciousness,” then undoubtedly the testimony of consciousness may be, -and often is, untrustworthy. - -Another very important consideration arises out of the facts as they -are now known. That which, in the absence of a knowledge of the -physiology of sensation, we call the cause of the smell, and term the -odorous object, is only such, mediately, by reason of its emitting -particles which give rise to a mode of motion in the sense organ. The -sense organ, again, is only a mediate cause by reason of its producing -a molecular change in the nerve fibre; while this last change is also -only a mediate cause of sensation, depending, as it does, upon the -change which it excites in the sensorium. - -The sense organ, the nerve, and the sensorium, taken together, -constitute the sensiferous apparatus. They make up the thickness of the -wall between the mind, as represented by the sensation “muskiness,” and -the object, as represented by the particle of musk in contact with the -olfactory epithelium. - -It will be observed that the sensiferous wall and the external world -are of the same nature; whatever it is that constitutes them both is -expressible in terms of matter and motion. Whatever changes take place -in the sensiferous apparatus are continuous with, and similar to, those -which take place in the external world.[61] But, with the sensorium, -matter and motion come to an end; while phenomena of another order, -or immaterial states of consciousness, make their appearance. How is -the relation between the material and the immaterial phenomena to -be conceived? This is the metaphysical problem of problems, and the -solutions which have been suggested have been made the corner-stones of -systems of philosophy. Three mutually irreconcilable readings of the -riddle have been offered. - -The first is, that an immaterial substance of mind exists; and that it -is affected by the mode of motion of the sensorium in such a way as to -give rise to the sensation. - -The second is, that the sensation is a direct effect of the mode of -motion of the sensorium, brought about without the intervention of any -substance of mind. - -The third is, that the sensation is neither directly nor indirectly -an effect of the mode of motion of the sensorium, but that it has an -independent cause. Properly speaking, therefore, it is not an effect of -the motion of the sensorium, but a concomitant of it. - -As none of these hypotheses is capable of even an approximation to -demonstration, it is almost needless to remark that they have been -severally held with tenacity and advocated with passion. I do not -think it can be said of any of the three that it is inconceivable, or -that it can be assumed on _à priori_ grounds to be impossible. - -Consider the first, for example; an immaterial substance is perfectly -conceivable. In fact, it is obvious that, if we possessed no sensations -but those of smell and hearing, we should be unable to conceive a -material substance. We might have a conception of time, but could -have none of extension, or of resistance, or of motion. And without -the three latter conceptions no idea of matter could be formed. Our -whole knowledge would be limited to that of a shifting succession -of immaterial phenomena. But, if an immaterial substance may exist, -it may have any conceivable properties; and sensation may be one of -them. All these propositions may be affirmed with complete dialectic -safety, inasmuch as they cannot possibly be disproved; but neither -can a particle of demonstrative evidence be offered in favour of the -existence of an immaterial substance. - -As regards the second hypothesis, it certainly is not inconceivable, -and therefore it may be true, that sensation is the direct effect of -certain kinds of bodily motion. It is just as easy to suppose this as -to suppose, on the former hypothesis, that bodily motion affects an -immaterial substance. But neither is it susceptible of proof. - -And, as to the third hypothesis, since the logic of induction is in no -case competent to prove that events apparently standing in the relation -of cause and effect may not both be effects of a common cause—that -also is as safe from refutation, if as incapable of demonstration, as -the other two. - -In my own opinion, neither of these speculations can be regarded -seriously as anything but a more or less convenient working hypothesis. -But, if I must choose among them, I take the “law of parsimony” for my -guide, and select the simplest—namely, that the sensation is the direct -effect of the mode of motion of the sensorium. It may justly be said -that this is not the slightest explanation of sensation; but then am -I really any the wiser, if I say that a sensation is an activity (of -which I know nothing) of a substance of mind (of which also I know -nothing)? Or, if I say that the Deity causes the sensation to arise in -my mind immediately after He has caused the particles of the sensorium -to move in a certain way, is anything gained? In truth, a sensation, as -we have already seen, is an intuition—a part of immediate knowledge. -As such, it is an ultimate fact and inexplicable; and all that we -can hope to find out about it, and that indeed is worth finding out, -is its relation to other natural facts. That relation appears to me -to be sufficiently expressed, for all practical purposes, by saying -that sensation is the invariable consequent of certain changes in the -sensorium—or, in other words, that, so far as we know, the change in -the sensorium is the cause of the sensation. - -I permit myself to imagine that the untutored, if noble, savage of -“common sense” who has been misled into reading thus far by the hope -of getting positive solid information about sensation, giving way to -not unnatural irritation, may here interpellate: “The upshot of all -this long disquisition is that we are profoundly ignorant. We knew -that to begin with, and you have merely furnished another example of -the emptiness and uselessness of metaphysics.” But I venture to reply, -Pardon me, you were ignorant, but you did not know it. On the contrary, -you thought you knew a great deal, and were quite satisfied with the -particularly absurd metaphysical notions which you were pleased to -call the teachings of common sense. You thought that your sensations -were properties of external things, and had an existence outside of -yourself. You thought that you knew more about material than you do -about immaterial existences. And if, as a wise man has assured us, -the knowledge of what we don’t know is the next best thing to the -knowledge of what we do know, this brief excursion into the province of -philosophy has been highly profitable. - -Of all the dangerous mental habits, that which schoolboys call -“cocksureness” is probably the most perilous; and the inestimable -value of metaphysical discipline is that it furnishes an effectual -counterpoise to this evil proclivity. Whoso has mastered the elements -of philosophy knows that the attribute of unquestionable certainty -appertains only to the existence of a state of consciousness so long -as it exists; all other beliefs are mere probabilities of a higher or -lower order. Sound metaphysic is an amulet which renders its possessor -proof alike against the poison of superstition and the counter-poison -of nihilism; by showing that the affirmations of the former and the -denials of the latter alike deal with matters about which, for lack of -evidence, nothing can be either affirmed or denied. - - -I have dwelt at length upon the nature and origin of our sensations of -smell, on account of the comparative freedom of the olfactory sense -from the complications which are met with in most of the other senses. - -Sensations of taste, however, are generated in almost as simple a -fashion as those of smell. In this case, the sense organ is the -epithelium which covers the tongue and the palate: and which sometimes, -becoming modified, gives rise to peculiar organs termed “gustatory -bulbs,” in which the epithelial cells elongate and assume a somewhat -rod-like form. Nerve fibres connect the sensory organ with the -sensorium, and tastes or flavours are states of consciousness caused -by the change of molecular state of the latter. In the case of the -sense of touch there is often no sense organ distinct from the general -epidermis. But many fishes and amphibia exhibit local modifications -of the epidermic cells which are sometimes extraordinarily like the -gustatory bulbs; more commonly, both in lower and higher animals, -the effect of the contact of external bodies is intensified by the -development of hair-like filaments, or of true hairs, the bases of -which are in immediate relation with the ends of the sensory nerves. -Every one must have noticed the extreme delicacy of the sensations -produced by the contact of bodies with the ends of the hairs of the -head; and the “whiskers” of cats owe their functional importance to -the abundant supply of nerves to the follicles in which their bases -are lodged. What part, if any, the so-called “tactile corpuscles,” -“end bulbs,” and “Pacinian bodies,” play in the mechanism of touch is -unknown. If they are sense organs, they are exceptional in character, -in so far as they do not appear to be modifications of the epidermis. -Nothing is known respecting the organs of those sensations of -resistance which are grouped under the head of the muscular sense; -nor of the sensations of warmth and cold; nor of that very singular -sensation which we call tickling. - -In the case of heat and cold, the organism not only becomes affected -by external bodies, far more remote than those which affect the -sense of smell; but the Democritic hypothesis is obviously no longer -permissible. When the direct rays of the sun fall upon the skin, -the sensation of heat is certainly not caused by “attenuated films” -thrown off from that luminary, but is due to a mode of motion which is -transmitted to us. In Aristotelian phrase, it is the form without the -matter of the sun which stamps the sense organ; and this, translated -into modern language, means nearly the same thing as Hartley’s -vibrations. Thus we are prepared for what happens in the case of -the auditory and the visual senses. For neither the ear, nor the -eye, receives anything but the impulses or vibrations originated by -sonorous or luminous bodies. Nevertheless, the receptive apparatus -still consists of nothing but specially modified epithelial cells. -In the labyrinth of the ear of the higher animals, the free ends of -these cells terminate in excessively delicate hair-like filaments; -while, in the lower forms of auditory organ, its free surface is -beset with delicate hairs like those of the surface of the body, and -the transmissive nerves are connected with the bases of these hairs. -Thus there is an insensible gradation in the forms of the receptive -apparatus, from the organ of touch, on the one hand, to those of taste -and smell; and, on the other hand, to that of hearing. Even in the -case of the most refined of all the sense organs, that of vision, the -receptive apparatus departs but little from the general type. The -only essential constituent of the visual sense organ is the retina, -which forms so small a part of the eyes of the higher animals; and the -simplest eyes are nothing but portions of the integument, in which -the cells of the epidermis have become converted into glassy rod-like -retinal corpuscles. The outer ends of these are turned towards the -light; their sides are more or less extensively coated with a dark -pigment, and their inner ends are connected with the transmissive nerve -fibres. The light, impinging on these visual rods, produces a change in -them which is communicated to the nerve fibres, and, being transmitted -to the sensorium, gives rise to the sensation—if indeed all animals -which possess eyes are endowed with what we understand as sensation. - -In the higher animals, a complicated apparatus of lenses, arranged -on the principle of a camera obscura, serves at once to concentrate -and to individualise the pencils of light proceeding from external -bodies. But the essential part of the organ of vision is still a layer -of cells, which have the form of rods with truncated or conical ends. -By what seems a strange anomaly, however, the glassy ends of these are -turned not towards, but away from, the light; and the latter has to -traverse the layer of nervous tissues with which their outer ends are -connected, before it can affect them. Moreover, the rods and cones of -the vertebrate retina are so deeply seated, and in many respects so -peculiar in character, that it appears impossible, at first sight, that -they can have anything to do with that epidermis of which gustatory and -tactile, and at any rate the lower forms of auditory and visual, organs -are obvious modifications. - -Whatever be the apparent diversities among the sensiferous apparatuses, -however, they share certain common characters. Each consists of a -receptive, a transmissive, and a sensificatory portion. The essential -part of the first is an epithelium, of the second, nerve fibres, of the -third, a part of the brain; the sensation is always the consequence -of the mode of motion excited in the receptive, and sent along the -transmissive, to the sensificatory part of the sensiferous apparatus. -And, in all the senses, there is no likeness whatever between the -object of sense, which is matter in motion, and the sensation, which is -an immaterial phenomenon. - -On the hypothesis which appears to me to be the most convenient, -sensation is a product of the sensiferous apparatus caused by certain -modes of motion which are set up in it by impulses from without. The -sensiferous apparatuses are, as it were, factories, all of which at -the one end receive raw materials of a similar kind—namely, modes of -motion—while, at the other, each turns out a special product, the -feeling which constitutes the kind of sensation characteristic of it. - -Or, to make use of a closer comparison, each sensiferous apparatus is -comparable to a musical-box wound up; with as many tunes as there are -separate sensations. The object of a simple sensation is the agent -which presses down the stop of one of these tunes, and the more feeble -the agent, the more delicate must be the mobility of the stop.[62] - -But, if this be true, if the recipient part of the sensiferous -apparatus is, in all cases, merely a mechanism affected by coarser or -finer kinds of material motion, we might expect to find that all sense -organs are fundamentally alike, and result from the modification of the -same morphological elements. And this is exactly what does result from -all recent histological and embryological investigations. - -It has been seen that the receptive part of the olfactory apparatus is -a slightly modified epithelium, which lines an olfactory chamber deeply -seated between the orbits in adult human beings. But, if we trace back -the nasal chambers to their origin in the embryo, we find, that, to -begin with, they are mere depressions of the skin of the fore part -of the head, lined by a continuation of the general epidermis. These -depressions become pits, and the pits, by the growth of the adjacent -parts, gradually acquire the position which they finally occupy. The -olfactory organ, therefore, is a specially modified part of the general -integument. - -The human ear would seem to present greater difficulties. For the -essential part of the sense organ, in this case, is the membranous -labyrinth, a bag of complicated form, which lies buried in the depths -of the floor of the skull, and is surrounded by dense and solid bone. -Here, however, recourse to the study of development readily unravels -the mystery. Shortly after the time when the olfactory organ appears, -as a depression of the skin on the side of the fore part of the head, -the auditory organ appears as a similar depression on the side of its -back part. The depression, rapidly deepening, becomes a small pouch; -and then, the communication with the exterior becoming shut off, the -pouch is converted into a closed bag, the epithelial lining of which is -a part of the general epidermis segregated from the rest. The adjacent -tissues, changing first into cartilage and then into bone, enclose -the auditory sac in a strong case, in which it undergoes its further -metamorphoses; while the drum, the ear bones, and the external ear, -are superadded by no less extraordinary modifications of the adjacent -parts. Still more marvellous is the history of the development of the -organ of vision. In the place of the eye, as in that of the nose and -that of the ear, the young embryo presents a depression of the general -integument; but, in man and the higher animals, this does not give -rise to the proper sensory organ, but only to part of the accessory -structures concerned in vision. In fact, this depression, deepening -and becoming converted into a shut sac, produces only the cornea, the -aqueous humour, and the crystalline lens of the perfect eye. - -The retina is added to this by the outgrowth of the wall of a portion -of the brain into a sort of bag, or sac, with a narrow neck, the convex -bottom of which is turned outwards, or towards the crystalline lens. -As the development of the eye proceeds, the convex bottom of the bag -becomes pushed in, so that it gradually obliterates the cavity of the -sac, the previously convex wall of which becomes deeply concave. The -sac of the brain is now like a double nightcap ready for the head, but -the place which the head would occupy is taken by the vitreous humour, -while the layer of nightcap next it becomes the retina. The cells of -this layer which lie farthest from the vitreous humour, or, in other -words, bound the original cavity of the sac, are metamorphosed into -the rods and cones. Suppose now that the sac of the brain could be -brought back to its original form; then the rods and cones would form -part of the lining of a side pouch of the brain. But one of the most -wonderful revelations of embryology is the proof of the fact that the -brain itself is, at its first beginning, merely an infolding of the -epidermic layer of the general integument. Hence it follows that the -rods and cones of the vertebrate eye are modified epidermic cells, as -much as the crystalline cones of the insect or crustacean eye are; and -that the inversion of the position of the former in relation to light -arises simply from the roundabout way in which the vertebrate retina is -developed. - -Thus all the higher sense organs start from one foundation, and the -receptive epithelium of the eye, or of the ear, is as much modified -epidermis as is that of the nose. The structural unity of the sense -organs is the morphological parallel to their identity of physiological -function, which, as we have seen, is to be impressed by certain modes -of motion; and they are fine or coarse, in proportion to the delicacy -or the strength of the impulses by which they are to be affected. - - -In ultimate analysis, then, it appears that a sensation is the -equivalent in terms of consciousness for a mode of motion of the matter -of the sensorium. But, if inquiry is pushed a stage farther, and the -question is asked, What then do we know about matter and motion? there -is but one reply possible. All that we know about motion is that it is -a name for certain changes in the relations of our visual, tactile, and -muscular sensations; and all that we know about matter is that it is -the hypothetical substance of physical phenomena—the assumption of the -existence of which is as pure a piece of metaphysical speculation as is -that of the existence of the substance of mind. - -Our sensations, our pleasures, our pains, and the relations of these, -make up the sum total of the elements of positive, unquestionable -knowledge. We call a large section of these sensations and their -relations matter and motion; the rest we term mind and thinking; and -experience shows that there is a certain constant order of succession -between some of the former and some of the latter. - -This is all that just metaphysical criticism leaves of the idols -set up by the spurious metaphysics of vulgar common sense. It is -consistent either with pure Materialism, or with pure Idealism, but -it is neither. For the Idealist, not content with declaring the truth -that our knowledge is limited to facts of consciousness, affirms the -wholly unprovable proposition that nothing exists beyond these and the -substance of mind. And, on the other hand, the Materialist, holding by -the truth that, for anything that appears to the contrary, material -phenomena are the causes of mental phenomena, asserts his unprovable -dogma, that material phenomena and the substance of matter are the sole -primary existences. - -Strike out the propositions about which neither controversialist does -or can know anything, and there is nothing left for them to quarrel -about. Make a desert of the Unknowable, and the divine Astræa of -philosophic peace will commence her blessed reign. - - - - -XI. - -EVOLUTION IN BIOLOGY. - - -In the former half of the eighteenth century, the term “evolution” was -introduced into biological writings, in order to denote the mode in -which some of the most eminent physiologists of that time conceived -that the generation of living things took place; in opposition to the -hypothesis advocated, in the preceding century, by Harvey in that -remarkable work[63] which would give him a claim to rank among the -founders of biological science, even had he not been the discoverer of -the circulation of the blood. - -One of Harvey’s prime objects is to defend and establish, on the -basis of direct observation, the opinion already held by Aristotle; -that, in the higher animals at any rate, the formation of the new -organism by the process of generation takes place, not suddenly, by -simultaneous accretion of rudiments of all, or of the most important, -of the organs of the adult; nor by sudden metamorphosis of a formative -substance into a miniature of the whole, which subsequently grows; -but by _epigenesis_, or successive differentiation of a relatively -homogeneous rudiment into the parts and structures which are -characteristic of the adult. - - “Et primò, quidem, quoniam per _epigenesin_ sive - partium superexorientium additamentum pullum fabricari - certum est: quænam pars ante alias omnes exstruatur, - et quid de illa ejusque generandi modo observandum - veniat, dispiciemus. Ratum sane est et in ovo manifestè - apparet quod _Aristoteles_ de perfectorum animalium - generatione enuntiat: nimirum, non omnes partes - simul fieri, sed ordine aliam post aliam; primùmque - existere particulam genitalem, cujus virtute postea - (tanquam ex principio quodam) reliquæ omnes partes - prosiliant. Qualem in plantarum seminibus (fabis, - putà, aut glandibus) gemmam sive apicem protuberantem - cernimus, totius futuræ arboris principium. _Estque - hæc particula velut filius emancipatus seorsumque - collocatus, et principium per se vivens; unde postea - membrorum ordo describitur; et quæcunque ad absolvendum - animal pertinent, disponuntur._[64] Quoniam enim _nulla - pars se ipsam generat; sed postquam generata est, se - ipsam jam auget; ideo eam primùm oriri necesse est, quæ - principium augendi contineat (sive enim planta, sive - animal est, æque omnibus inest quod vim habeat vegetandi, - sive nutriendi)_,[65] simulque reliquas omnes partes - suo quamque ordine distinguat et formet; proindeque - in eadem primogenita particula anima primario inest, - sensus, motusque, et totius vitæ auctor et principium.” - (Exercitatio 51.) - -Harvey proceeds to contrast this view with that of the “Medici,” or -followers of Hippocrates and Galen, who, “badly philosophising,” -imagined that the brain, the heart, and the liver were simultaneously -first generated in the form of vesicles; and, at the same time, while -expressing his agreement with Aristotle in the principle of epigenesis, -he maintains that it is the blood which is the primal generative part, -and not, as Aristotle thought, the heart. - -In the latter part of the seventeenth century, the doctrine of -epigenesis, thus advocated by Harvey, was controverted, on the ground -of direct observation, by Malpighi, who affirmed that the body of -the chick is to be seen in the egg, before the _punctum sanguineum_ -makes its appearance. But, from this perfectly correct observation -a conclusion which is by no means warranted was drawn; namely, that -the chick, as a whole, really exists in the egg antecedently to -incubation; and that what happens in the course of the latter process -is no addition of new parts, “alias post alias natas,” as Harvey puts -it, but a simple expansion, or unfolding, of the organs which already -exist, though they are too small and inconspicuous to be discovered. -The weight of Malpighi’s observations therefore fell into the scale of -that doctrine which Harvey terms _metamorphosis_, in contradistinction -to epigenesis. - -The views of Malpighi were warmly welcomed, on philosophical grounds, -by Leibnitz,[66] who found in them a support to his hypothesis -of monads, and by Malebranche;[67] while, in the middle of the -eighteenth century, not only speculative considerations, but a -great number of new and interesting observations on the phenomena -of generation, led the ingenious Bonnet, and Haller,[68] the first -physiologist of the age, to adopt, advocate, and extend them. - -Bonnet affirms that, before fecundation, the hen’s egg contains an -excessively minute but complete chick; and that fecundation and -incubation simply cause this germ to absorb nutritious matters, which -are deposited in the interstices of the elementary structures of which -the miniature chick, or germ, is made up. The consequence of this -intussusceptive growth is the “development” or “evolution” of the germ -into the visible bird. Thus an organised individual (_tout organisé_) -“is a composite body consisting of the original, or _elementary_, -parts and of the matters which have been associated with them by the -aid of nutrition;” so that, if these matters could be extracted from -the individual (_tout_), it would, so to speak, become concentrated -in a point, and would thus be restored to its primitive condition of -a _germ_; “just as by extracting from a bone the calcareous substance -which is the source of its hardness, it is reduced to its primitive -state of gristle or membrane.”[69] - -“Evolution” and “development” are, for Bonnet, synonymous terms; and -since by “evolution” he means simply the expansion of that which was -invisible into visibility, he was naturally led to the conclusion, -at which Leibnitz had arrived by a different line of reasoning, that -no such thing as generation, in the proper sense of the word, exists -in nature. The growth of an organic being is simply a process of -enlargement, as a particle of dry gelatine may be swelled up by the -intussusception of water; its death is a shrinkage, such as the swelled -jelly might undergo on desiccation. Nothing really new is produced -in the living world, but the germs which develop have existed since -the beginning of things; and nothing really dies, but, when what we -call death takes place, the living thing shrinks back into its germ -state.[70] - -The two parts of Bonnet’s hypothesis, namely, the doctrine that all -living things proceed from pre-existing germs, and that these contain, -one inclosed within the other, the germs of all future living things, -which is the hypothesis of “_emboîtement_;” and the doctrine that every -germ contains in miniature all the organs of the adult, which is the -hypothesis of evolution or development, in the primary senses of these -words, must be carefully distinguished. In fact, while holding firmly -by the former, Bonnet more or less modified the latter in his later -writings, and, at length, he admits that a “germ” need not be an actual -miniature of the organism; but that it may be merely an “original -preformation” capable of producing the latter.[71] - -But, thus defined, the germ is neither more nor less than the -“particula genitalis” of Aristotle, or the “primordium vegetale” or -“ovum” of Harvey; and the “evolution” of such a germ would not be -distinguishable from “epigenesis.” - -Supported by the great authority of Haller, the doctrine of evolution, -or development, prevailed throughout the whole of the eighteenth -century, and Cuvier appears to have substantially adopted Bonnet’s -later views, though probably he would not have gone all lengths in -the direction of “emboîtement.” In a well-known note to Laurillards’ -“Éloge,” prefixed to the last edition of the “Ossemens fossiles,” the -“radical de l’être” is much the same thing as Aristotle’s “particula -genitalis” and Harvey’s “ovum.”[72] - -Bonnet’s eminent contemporary, Buffon, held nearly the same views -with respect to the nature of the germ, and expresses them even more -confidently.[73] - - “Ceux qui ont cru que le cœur étoit le premier formé, - se sont trompés; ceux qui disent que c’est le sang se - trompent aussi: tout est formé en même temps. Si l’on ne - consulte que l’observation, le poulet se voit dans l’œuf - avant qui’il ait été couvé.” - - “J’ai ouvert une grande quantité d’œufs à differens temps - avant et après l’incubation, et je me suis convaincu par - mes yeux que le poulet existe en entier dans le milieu - de la cicatricule au moment qu’il sort du corps de la - poule.”[74] - -The “moule intérieur” of Buffon is the aggregate of elementary -parts which constitute the individual, and is thus the equivalent -of Bonnet’s germ,[75] as defined in the passage cited above. But -Buffon further imagined that innumerable “molecules organiques” are -dispersed throughout the world, and that alimentation consists in the -appropriation by the parts of an organism of those molecules which -are analogous to them. Growth, therefore, was, on this hypothesis, a -process partly of simple evolution, and partly of what has been termed -“syngenesis.” Buffon’s opinion is, in fact, a sort of combination of -views, essentially similar to those of Bonnet, with others, somewhat -similar to those of the “Medici” whom Harvey condemns. The “molecules -organiques” are physical equivalents of Leibnitz’s “monads.” - -It is a striking example of the difficulty of getting people to use -their own powers of investigation accurately, that this form of the -doctrine of evolution should have held its ground so long; for it was -thoroughly and completely exploded, not long after its enunciation, by -Caspar Friederich Wolff, who in his “Theoria Generationis,” published -in 1759, placed the opposite theory of epigenesis upon the secure -foundation of fact, from which it has never been displaced. But Wolff -had no immediate successors. The school of Cuvier was lamentably -deficient in embryologists; and it was only in the course of the -first thirty years of the present century, that Prévost and Dumas in -France, and, later on, Döllinger, Pander, Von Bär, Rathke, and Remak -in Germany, founded modern embryology; while, at the same time, they -proved the utter incompatibility of the hypothesis of evolution, as -formulated by Bonnet and Haller, with easily demonstrable facts. - -Nevertheless, though the conceptions originally denoted by “evolution” -and “development” were shown to be untenable, the words retained -their application to the process by which the embryos of living -beings gradually make their appearance; and the terms “Development,” -“Entwickelung,” and “Evolutio,” are now indiscriminately used for -the series of genetic changes exhibited by living beings, by writers -who would emphatically deny that “Development” or “Entwickelung” or -“Evolutio,” in the sense in which these words were usually employed by -Bonnet or by Haller, ever occurs. - -Evolution, or development, is, in fact, at present employed in biology -as a general name for the history of the steps by which any living -being has acquired the morphological and the physiological characters -which distinguish it. As civil history may be divided into biography, -which is the history of individuals, and universal history, which is -the history of the human race, so evolution falls naturally into two -categories,—the evolution of the individual, and the evolution of the -sum of living beings. It will be convenient to deal with the modern -doctrine of evolution under these two heads. - - -I. _The Evolution of the Individual._ - -No exception is, at this time, known to the general law, established -upon an immense multitude of direct observations, that every living -thing is evolved from a particle of matter in which no trace of the -distinctive characters of the adult form of that living thing is -discernible. This particle is termed a _germ_. Harvey[76] says— - - “Omnibus viventibus primordium insit, ex quo et a quo - proveniant. Liceat hoc nobis _primordium vegetale_ - nominare; nempe substantiam quandam corpoream vitam - habentem potentiâ; vel quoddam per se existens, quod - aptum sit, in vegetativam formam, ab interno principio - operante, mutari. Quale nempe primordium, ovum est et - plantarum semen; tale etiam viviparorum conceptus, - et insectorum _vermis_ ab Aristotele dictus: diversa - scilicet diversorum viventium primordia.” - -The definition of a germ as “matter potentially alive, and having -within itself the tendency to assume a definite living form,” appears -to meet all the requirements of modern science. For, notwithstanding it -might be justly questioned whether a germ is not merely potentially, -but rather actually, alive, though its vital manifestations are reduced -to a minimum, the term “potential” may fairly be used in a sense broad -enough to escape the objection. And the qualification of “potential” -has the advantage of reminding us that the great characteristic of -the germ is not so much what it is, but what it may, under suitable -conditions, become. Harvey shared the belief of Aristotle—whose -writings he so often quotes, and of whom he speaks as his precursor and -model, with the generous respect with which one genuine worker should -regard another—that such germs may arise by a process of “equivocal -generation” out of not-living matter; and the aphorism so commonly -ascribed to him, “_omne vivum ex ovo_,” and which is indeed a fair -summary of his reiterated assertions, though incessantly employed -against the modern advocates of spontaneous generation, can be honestly -so used only by those who have never read a score of pages of the -“Exercitationes.” Harvey, in fact, believed as implicitly as Aristotle -did in the equivocal generation of the lower animals. But, while the -course of modern investigation has only brought out into greater -prominence the accuracy of Harvey’s conception of the nature and mode -of development of germs, it has as distinctly tended to disprove the -occurrence of equivocal generation, or abiogenesis, in the present -course of nature. In the immense majority of both plants and animals, -it is certain that the germ is not merely a body in which life is -dormant or potential, but that it is itself simply a detached portion -of the substance of a pre-existing living body; and the evidence has -yet to be adduced which will satisfy any cautious reasoner that “omne -vivum ex vivo” is not as well-established a law of the existing course -of nature as “omne vivum ex ovo.” - -In all instances which have yet been investigated, the substance of -this germ has a peculiar chemical composition, consisting of at fewest -four elementary bodies, viz. carbon, hydrogen, oxygen, and nitrogen, -united into the ill-defined compound known as protein, and associated -with much water, and very generally, if not always, with sulphur and -phosphorus in minute proportions. Moreover, up to the present time, -protein is known only as a product and constituent of living matter. -Again, a true germ is either devoid of any structure discernible by -optical means, or, at most, it is a simple nucleated cell.[77] - -In all cases, the process of evolution consists in a succession of -changes of the form, structure, and functions of the germ, by which -it passes, step by step, from an extreme simplicity, or relative -homogeneity, of visible structure, to a greater or less degree -of complexity or heterogeneity; and the course of progressive -differentiation is usually accompanied by growth, which is effected by -intussusception. This intussusception, however, is a very different -process from that imagined either by Buffon, or by Bonnet. The -substance by the addition of which the germ is enlarged is, in no -case, simply absorbed ready-made from the not-living world and packed -between the elementary constituents of the germ, as Bonnet imagined; -still less does it consist of the “molecules organiques” of Buffon. The -new material is, in great measure, not only absorbed but assimilated, -so that it becomes part and parcel of the molecular structure of -the living body into which it enters. And, so far from the fully -developed organism being simply the germ _plus_ the nutriment which -it has absorbed, it is probable that the adult contains neither in -form, nor in substance, more than an inappreciable fraction of the -constituents of the germ, and that it is almost, if not wholly, made -up of assimilated and metamorphosed nutriment. In the great majority of -cases, at any rate, the full-grown organism becomes what it is by the -absorption of not-living matter, and its conversion into living matter -of a specific type. As Harvey says (Ex. 45), all parts of the body are -nourished “ab eodem succo alibili, aliter aliterque cambiato,” “ut -plantæ omnes ex eodem communi nutrimento (sive rore seu terræ humore).” - -In all animals and plants, above the lowest, the germ is a nucleated -cell, using that term in its broadest sense; and the first step in the -process of the evolution of the individual is the division of this -cell into two or more portions. The process of division is repeated, -until the organism, from being unicellular, becomes multicellular. -The single cell becomes a cell-aggregate; and it is to the growth and -metamorphosis of the cells of the cell-aggregate thus produced, that -all the organs and tissues of the adult owe their origin. - -In certain animals belonging to every one of the chief groups into -which the _Metazoa_ are divisible, the cells of the cell-aggregate -which results from the process of yelk-division, and which is termed -a _morula_, diverge from one another in such a manner as to give rise -to a central space, around which they dispose themselves as a coat or -envelope; and thus the morula becomes a vesicle filled with fluid, -the _planula_. The wall of the planula is next pushed in on one side, -or invaginated, whereby it is converted into a double-walled sac -with an opening, the _blastopore_, which leads into the cavity lined -by the inner wall. This cavity is the primitive alimentary cavity or -_archenteron_; the inner, or invaginated, layer is the _hypoblast_, -the outer the _epiblast_; and the embryo, in this stage, is termed -a _gastrula_. In all the higher animals, a layer of cells makes its -appearance between the hypoblast and the epiblast, and is termed the -_mesoblast_. In the further course of development, the epiblast becomes -the ectoderm or epidermic layer of the body; the hypoblast becomes -the epithelium of the middle portion of the alimentary canal; and the -mesoblast gives rise to all the other tissues, except the central -nervous system, which originates from an ingrowth of the epiblast. - -With more or less modification in detail, the embryo has been observed -to pass through these successive evolutional stages in sundry Sponges, -Cœlenterates, Worms, Echinoderms, Tunicates, Arthropods, Mollusks, -and Vertebrates; and there are valid reasons for the belief, that -all animals of higher organisation than the _Protozoa_ agree in the -general character of the early stages of their individual evolution. -Each, starting from the condition of a simple nucleated cell, becomes -a cell-aggregate; and this passes through a condition which represents -the gastrula stage, before taking on the features distinctive of the -group to which it belongs. Stated in this form, the “gastræa theory” of -Haeckel appears to the present writer to be one of the most important -and best founded of recent generalisations. So far as individual -plants and animals are concerned, therefore, evolution is not a -speculation but a fact; and it takes place by epigenesis. - - “Animal ... per _epigenesin_ procreatur, materiam simul - attrahit, parat, concoquit, et eâdem utitur; formatur - simul et augetur ... primum futuri corporis concrementum - ... prout augetur, dividitur sensim et distinguitur in - partes, non simul omnes, sed alias post alias natas, et - ordine quasque suo emergentes.”[78] - -In these words, by the divination of genius, Harvey, in the seventeenth -century, summed up the outcome of the work of all those who, with -appliances he could not dream of, are continuing his labours in the -nineteenth century. - -Nevertheless, though the doctrine of epigenesis, as understood by -Harvey, has definitively triumphed over the doctrine of evolution, -as understood by his opponents of the eighteenth century, it is not -impossible that, when the analysis of the process of development is -carried still farther, and the origin of the molecular components of -the physically gross, though sensibly minute, bodies which we term -germs is traced, the theory of development will approach more nearly -to metamorphosis than to epigenesis. Harvey thought that impregnation -influenced the female organism as a contagion; and that the blood, -which he conceived to be the first rudiment of the germ, arose in -the clear fluid of the “colliquamentum” of the ovum by a process of -concrescence, as a sort of living precipitate. We now know, on the -contrary, that the female germ or ovum, in all the higher animals -and plants, is a body which possesses the structure of a nucleated -cell; that impregnation consists in the fusion of the substance[79] -of another more or less modified nucleated cell, the male germ, with -the ovum; and that the structural components of the body of the -embryo are all derived, by a process of division, from the coalesced -male and female germs. Hence it is conceivable, and indeed probable, -that every part of the adult contains molecules, derived both from -the male and from the female parent; and that, regarded as a mass -of molecules, the entire organism may be compared to a web of which -the warp is derived from the female and the woof from the male. And -each of these may constitute one individuality, in the same sense -as the whole organism is one individual, although the matter of the -organism has been constantly changing. The primitive male and female -molecules may play the part of Buffon’s “moules organiques,” and -mould the assimilated nutriment, each according to its own type, into -innumerable new molecules. From this point of view the process, which, -in its superficial aspect, is epigenesis, appears in essence, to be -evolution, in the modified sense adopted in Bonnet’s later writings; -and development is merely the expansion of a potential organism or -“original preformation” according to fixed laws. - - -II. _The Evolution of the Sum of Living Beings._ - -The notion that all the kinds of animals and plants may have come into -existence by the growth and modification of primordial germs is as old -as speculative thought; but the modern scientific form of the doctrine -can be traced historically to the influence of several converging lines -of philosophical speculation and of physical observation, none of which -go farther back than the seventeenth century. These are:— - -1. The enunciation by Descartes of the conception that the physical -universe, whether living or not living, is a mechanism, and that, as -such, it is explicable on physical principles. - -2. The observation of the gradations of structure, from extreme -simplicity to very great complexity, presented by living things, and of -the relation of these graduated forms to one another. - -3. The observation of the existence of an analogy between the series -of gradations presented by the species which compose any great group -of animals or plants, and the series of embryonic conditions of the -highest members of that group. - -4. The observation that large groups of species of widely different -habits present the same fundamental plan of structure; and that parts -of the same animal or plant, the functions of which are very different, -likewise exhibit modifications of a common plan. - -5. The observation of the existence of structures, in a rudimentary -and apparently useless condition, in one species of a group, which are -fully developed and have definite functions in other species of the -same group. - -6. The observation of the effects of varying conditions in modifying -living organisms. - -7. The observation of the facts of geographical distribution. - -8. The observation of the facts of the geological succession of the -forms of life. - - -1. Notwithstanding the elaborate disguise which fear of the powers that -were led Descartes to throw over his real opinions, it is impossible to -read the “Principes de la Philosophie” without acquiring the conviction -that this great philosopher held that the physical world and all things -in it, whether living or not living, have originated by a process of -evolution, due to the continuous operation of purely physical causes, -out of a primitive relatively formless matter.[80] - -The following passage is especially instructive:— - - “Et tant s’en faut que je veuille que l’on croie toutes - les choses que j’écrirai, que même je pretends en - proposer ici quelques unes que je crois absolument être - fausses; à savoir, je ne doute point que le monde n’ait - été créé au commencement avec autant de perfection qu’il - en a; en sorte que le soleil, la terre, la lune, et - les étoiles ont été dès lors; et que la terre n’a pas - eu seulement en soi les semences des plantes, mais que - les plantes même en ont couvert une partie; et qu’Adam - et Eve n’ont pas été créés enfans mais en âge d’hommes - parfaits. La religion chrétienne veut que nous le croyons - ainsi, et la raison naturelle nous persuade entièrement - cette vérité; car si nous considérons la toute puissance - de Dieu, nous devons juger que tout ce qu’il a fait a - eu dès le commencement toute la perfection qu’il devoit - avoir. Mais néanmoins, comme on connôitroit beaucoup - mieux quelle a été la nature d’Adam et celle des arbres - de Paradis si on avoit examiné comment les enfants se - forment peu à peu dans le ventre de leurs mères et - comment les plantes sortent de leurs semences, que si on - avoit seulement considéré quels ils ont été quand Dieu - les a créés: tout de même, nous ferons mieux entendre - quelle est généralement la nature de toutes les choses - qui sont au monde si nous pouvons imaginer quelques - principes qui soient fort intelligibles et fort simples, - desquels nous puissions voir clairement que les astres et - la terre et enfin tout ce monde visible auroit pu être - produit ainsi que de quelques semences (bien que nous - sachions qu’il n’a pas été produit en cette façon) que si - nous la decrivions seulement comme il est, ou bien comme - nous croyons qu’il a été créé. Et parceque je pense avoir - trouvé des principes qui sont tels, je tacherai ici de - les expliquer.”[81] - -If we read between the lines of this singular exhibition of force of -one kind and weakness of another, it is clear that Descartes believed -that he had divined the mode in which the physical universe had been -evolved; and the “Traité de l’homme,” and the essay “Sur les Passions” -afford abundant additional evidence that he sought for, and thought -he had found, an explanation of the phenomena of physical life by -deduction from purely physical laws. - -Spinoza abounds in the same sense, and is as usual perfectly candid— - - “Naturæ leges et regulæ, secundum quas omnia fiunt et - ex unis formis in alias mutantur, sunt ubique et semper - eadem.”[82] - -Leibnitz’s doctrine of continuity necessarily led him in the same -direction; and, of the infinite multitude of monads with which he -peopled the world, each is supposed to be the focus of an endless -process of evolution and involution. In the “Protogæa,” xxvi., Leibnitz -distinctly suggests the mutability of species— - - “Alii mirantur in saxis passim species videri quas vel - in orbe cognito, vel saltem in vicinis locis frustra - quæras. Ita “Cornua Ammonis,” quæ ex nautilorum numero - habeantur, passim et forma et magnitudine (nam et pedali - diametro aliquando reperiuntur) ab omnibus illis naturis - discrepare dicunt, quas præbet mare. Sed quis absconditos - ejus recessus aut subterraneas abyssos pervestigavit? - quam multa nobis animalia antea ignota offert novus - orbis? Et credibile est per magnas illas conversiones - etiam animalium species plurimum immutatas.” - -Thus, in the end of the seventeenth century, the seed was sown which -has, at intervals, brought forth recurrent crops of evolutional -hypotheses, based, more or less completely, on general reasonings. - -Among the earliest of these speculations is that put forward by Benoit -de Maillet in his “Telliamed,” which, though printed in 1735, was -not published until twenty-three years later. Considering that this -book was written before the time of Haller, or Bonnet, or Linnæus, -or Hutton, it surely deserves more respectful consideration than it -usually receives. For De Maillet not only has a definite conception -of the plasticity of living things, and of the production of existing -species by the modification of their predecessors; but he clearly -apprehends the cardinal maxim of modern geological science, that the -explanation of the structure of the globe is to be sought in the -deductive application to geological phenomena of the principles -established inductively by the study of the present course of nature. -Somewhat later, Maupertuis[83] suggested a curious hypothesis as to -the causes of variation, which he thinks may be sufficient to account -for the origin of all animals from a single pair. Robinet[84] followed -out much the same line of thought as De Maillet, but less soberly; and -Bonnet’s speculations in the “Palingénésie,” which appeared in 1769, -have already been mentioned. Buffon (1753-1778), at first a partisan -of the absolute immutability of species, subsequently appears to have -believed that larger or smaller groups of species have been produced by -the modification of a primitive stock; but he contributed nothing to -the general doctrine of evolution. - -Erasmus Darwin (“Zoonomia,” 1794), though a zealous evolutionist, can -hardly be said to have made any real advance on his predecessors; -and, notwithstanding that Goethe (1791-4) had the advantage of a -wide knowledge of morphological facts, and a true insight into their -signification, while he threw all the power of a great poet into -the expression of his conceptions, it may be questioned whether he -supplied the doctrine of evolution with a firmer scientific basis -than it already possessed. Moreover, whatever the value of Goethe’s -labours in that field, they were not published before 1820, long after -evolutionism had taken a new departure from the works of Treviranus -and Lamarck—the first of its advocates who were equipped for their -task with the needful large and accurate knowledge of the phenomena of -life, as a whole. It is remarkable that each of these writers seems -to have been led, independently and contemporaneously, to invent the -same name of “Biology” for the science of the phenomena of life; and -thus, following Buffon, to have recognised the essential unity of these -phenomena, and their contradistinction from those of inanimate nature. -And it is hard to say whether Lamarck or Treviranus has the priority in -propounding the main thesis of the doctrine of evolution; for though -the first volume of Treviranus’s “Biologie” appeared only in 1802, he -says, in the preface to his later work, the “Erscheinungen und Gesetze -des organischen Lebens,” dated 1831, that he wrote the first volume of -the “Biologie” “nearly five-and-thirty years ago,” or about 1796. - -Now, in 1794, there is evidence that Lamarck held doctrines which -present a striking contrast to those which are to be found in the -“Philosophic Zoologique,” as the following passages show:— - - “685. Quoique mon unique objet dans cet article n’ait été - que de traiter de la cause physique de l’entretien de la - vie des êtres organiques, malgré cela j’ai osé avancer - en débutant, que l’existence de ces êtres étonnants - n’appartiennent nullement à la nature; que tout ce qu’on - peut entendre par le mot _nature_, ne pouvoit donner la - vie, c’est-à-dire, que toutes les qualités de la matière, - jointes à toutes les circonstances possibles, et même à - l’activité répandue dans l’univers, ne pouvaient point - produire un être muni du mouvement organique, capable de - reproduire son semblable, et sujet à la mort. - - “686. Tous les individus de cette nature, qui existent, - proviennent d’individus semblables qui tous ensemble - constituent l’espèce entière. Or, je crois qu’il est - aussi impossible à l’homme de connôitre la cause physique - du premier individu de chaque espèce, que d’assigner - aussi physiquement la cause de l’existence de la - matière ou de l’univers entier. C’est au moins ce que - le résultat de mes connaissances et de mes réflexions - me portent à penser. S’il existe beaucoup de variétés - produites par l’effet des circonstances, ces variétés ne - dénaturent point les espèces; mais on se trompe, sans - doute souvent, en indiquant comme espèce, ce qui n’est - que variété; et alors je sens que cette erreur peut tirer - à conséquence dans les raisonnements que l’on fait sur - cette matière.”[85] - -The first three volumes of Treviranus’s “Biologie,” which contain -his general views of evolution, appeared between 1802 and 1805. The -“Recherches sur l’organisation des corps vivants,” in which the -outlines of Lamarck’s doctrines are given, was published in 1802; but -the full development of his views, in the “Philosophie Zoologique,” did -not take place until 1809. - -The “Biologie” and the “Philosophie Zoologique” are both very -remarkable productions, and are still worthy of attentive study, but -they fell upon evil times. The vast authority of Cuvier was employed -in support of the traditionally respectable hypotheses of special -creation and of catastrophism; and the wild speculations of the -“Discours sur les Révolutions de la Surface du Globe” were held to be -models of sound scientific thinking, while the really much more sober -and philosophical hypotheses of the “Hydrogeologie” were scouted. For -many years it was the fashion to speak of Lamarck with ridicule, while -Treviranus was altogether ignored. - -Nevertheless, the work had been done. The conception of evolution -was henceforward irrepressible, and it incessantly reappears, in one -shape or another,[86] up to the year 1858, when Mr. Darwin and Mr. -Wallace published their “Theory of Natural Selection.” The “Origin of -Species” appeared in 1859; and it is within the knowledge of all whose -memories go back to that time, that, henceforward, the doctrine of -evolution has assumed a position and acquired an importance which it -never before possessed. In the “Origin of Species,” and in his other -numerous and important contributions to the solution of the problem of -biological evolution, Mr. Darwin confines himself to the discussion of -the causes which have brought about the present condition of living -matter, assuming such matter to have once come into existence. On the -other hand, Mr. Spencer[87] and Professor Haeckel[88] have dealt with -the whole problem of evolution. The profound and vigorous writings of -Mr. Spencer embody the spirit of Descartes in the knowledge of our own -day, and may be regarded as the “Principes de la Philosophie” of the -nineteenth century; while, whatever hesitation may not unfrequently -be felt by less daring minds, in following Haeckel in many of his -speculations, his attempt to systematise the doctrine of evolution and -to exhibit its influence as the central thought of modern biology, -cannot fail to have a far-reaching influence on the progress of science. - -If we seek for the reason of the difference between the scientific -position of the doctrine of evolution a century ago, and that which it -occupies now, we shall find it in the great accumulation of facts, the -several classes of which have been enumerated above, under the second -to the eighth heads. For those which are grouped under the second to -the seventh of these classes, respectively, have a clear significance -on the hypothesis of evolution, while they are unintelligible if that -hypothesis be denied. And those of the eighth group are not only -unintelligible without the assumption of evolution, but can be proved -never to be discordant with that hypothesis, while, in some cases, -they are exactly such as the hypothesis requires. The demonstration of -these assertions would require a volume, but the general nature of the -evidence on which they rest may be briefly indicated. - -2. The accurate investigation of the lowest forms of animal life, -commenced by Leeuwenhoek and Swammerdam, and continued by the -remarkable labours of Reaumur, Trembley, Bonnet, and a host of other -observers, in the latter part of the seventeenth and the first half -of the eighteenth centuries, drew the attention of biologists to the -gradation in the complexity of organisation which is presented by -living beings, and culminated in the doctrine of the “échelle des -êtres,” so powerfully and clearly stated by Bonnet; and, before him, -adumbrated by Locke and by Leibnitz. In the then state of knowledge, it -appeared that all the species of animals and plants could be arranged -in one series; in such a manner that, by insensible gradations, the -mineral passed into the plant, the plant into the polype, the polype -into the worm, and so, through gradually higher forms of life, to man, -at the summit of the animated world. - -But, as knowledge advanced, this conception ceased to be tenable in -the crude form in which it was first put forward. Taking into account -existing animals and plants alone, it became obvious that they fell -into groups which were more or less sharply separated from one another; -and, moreover, that even the species of a genus can hardly ever be -arranged in linear series. Their natural resemblances and differences -are only to be expressed by disposing them as if they were branches -springing from a common hypothetical centre. - -Lamarck, while affirming the verbal proposition that animals form a -single series, was forced by his vast acquaintance with the details -of zoology to limit the assertion to such a series as may be formed -out of the abstractions constituted by the common characters of each -group.[89] - -Cuvier on anatomical, and Von Baer on embryological grounds, made the -further step of proving that, even in this limited sense, animals -cannot be arranged in a single series, but that there are several -distinct plans of organisation to be observed among them, no one of -which, in its highest and most complicated modification, leads to any -of the others. - -The conclusions enunciated by Cuvier and Von Baer have been confirmed, -in principle, by all subsequent research into the structure of animals -and plants. But the effect of the adoption of these conclusions has -been rather to substitute a new metaphor for that of Bonnet than to -abolish the conception expressed by it. Instead of regarding living -things as capable of arrangement in one series like the steps of a -ladder, the results of modern investigation compel us to dispose them -as if they were the twigs and branches of a tree. The ends of the twigs -represent individuals, the smallest groups of twigs species, larger -groups genera, and so on, until we arrive at the source of all these -ramifications of the main branch, which is represented by a common -plan of structure. At the present moment, it is impossible to draw up -any definition, based on broad anatomical or developmental characters, -by which any one of Cuvier’s great groups shall be separated from all -the rest. On the contrary, the lower members of each tend to converge -towards the lower members of all the others. The same may be said of -the vegetable world. The apparently clear distinction between flowering -and flowerless plants has been broken down by the series of gradations -between the two exhibited by the _Lycopodiaceæ_, _Rhizocarpeæ_, and -_Gymnospermeæ_. The groups of _Fungi_, _Lichenes_, and _Algæ_ have -completely run into one another, and, when the lowest forms of each are -alone considered, even the animal and vegetable kingdoms cease to have -a definite frontier. - -If it is permissible to speak of the relations of living forms to one -another metaphorically, the similitude chosen must undoubtedly be -that of a common root, whence two main trunks, one representing the -vegetable and one the animal world, spring; and, each dividing into a -few main branches, these subdivide into multitudes of branchlets and -these into smaller groups of twigs. - -As Lamarck has well said—[90] - - “Il n’y a que ceux qui se sont longtemps et fortement - occupés de la détermination des espèces, et qui ont - consulté de riches collections, qui peuvent savoir - jusqu’à quel point les _espèces_, parmi les corps vivants - se fondent les unes dans les autres, et qui ont pu se - convaincre que, dans les parties où nous voyons des - _espèces_ isolès, cela n’est ainsi que parcequ’il nous - en manque d’autres qui en sont plus voisines et que nous - n’avons pas encore recueillies. - - “Je ne veux pas dire pour cela que les animaux qui - existent forment une série très-simple et partout - également nuancée; mais je dis qu’ils forment une série - rameuse, irréguliérement graduée et qui n’a point de - discontinuité dans ses parties, ou qui, du moins, n’en - a toujours pas eu, s’il est vrai que, par suite de - quelques espèces perdues, il s’en trouve quelque part. - Il en resulte que les _espèces_ qui terminent chaque - rameau de la série générale tiennent, au moins d’un - côté, à d’autres espèces voisines qui se nuancent avec - elles. Voilà ce que l’état bien connu des choses me - met maintenant à portée de demontrer. Je n’ai besoin - d’aucune hypothèse ni d’aucune supposition pour cela: - j’en atteste tous les naturalistes observateurs.” - -3. In a remarkable essay[91] Meckel remarks— - - “There is no good physiologist who has not been struck by - the observation that the original form of all organisms - is one and the same, and that out of this one form, all, - the lowest as well as the highest, are developed in such - a manner that the latter pass through the permanent forms - of the former as transitory stages. Aristotle, Haller, - Harvey, Kielmeyer, Autenrieth, and many others, have - either made this observation incidentally, or, especially - the latter, have drawn particular attention to it, and - drawn therefrom results of permanent importance for - physiology.” - -Meckel proceeds to exemplify the thesis, that the lower forms of -animals represent stages in the course of the development of the -higher, with a large series of illustrations. - -After comparing the Salamanders and the perenni-branchiate _Urodela_ -with the Tadpoles and the Frogs, and enunciating the law that the more -highly any animal is organised the more quickly does it pass through -the lower stages, Meckel goes on to say— - - “From these lowest Vertebrata to the highest, and to - the highest forms among these, the comparison between - the embryonic conditions of the higher animals and the - adult states of the lower can be more completely and - thoroughly instituted than if the survey is extended to - the Invertebrata, inasmuch as the latter are in many - respects constructed upon an altogether too dissimilar - type; indeed they often differ from one another far more - than the lowest vertebrate does from the highest mammal; - yet the following pages will show that the comparison - may also be extended to them with interest. In fact, - there is a period when, as Aristotle long ago said, the - embryo of the highest animal has the form of a mere worm; - and, devoid of internal and external organisation, is - merely an almost structureless lump of polype-substance. - Notwithstanding the origin of organs, it still for a - certain time, by reason of its want of an internal bony - skeleton, remains worm and mollusk, and only later enters - into the series of the Vertebrata, although traces of the - vertebral column even in the earliest periods testify its - claim to a place in that series.”—_Op. cit._ pp. 4, 5. - -If Meckel’s proposition is so far qualified, that the comparison of -adult with embryonic forms is restricted within the limits of one type -of organisation; and, if it is further recollected that the resemblance -between the permanent lower form and the embryonic stage of a higher -form is not special but general, it is in entire accordance with modern -embryology; although there is no branch of biology which has grown so -largely, and improved its methods so much, since Meckel’s time, as -this. In its original form, the doctrine of “arrest of development,” -as advocated by Geoffroy Saint-Hilaire and Serres, was no doubt an -over-statement of the case. It is not true, for example, that a fish -is a reptile arrested in its development, or that a reptile was ever -a fish: but it is true that the reptile embryo, at one stage of its -development, is an organism which, if it had an independent existence, -must be classified among fishes; and all the organs of the reptile -pass, in the course of their development, through conditions which are -closely analogous to those which are permanent in some fishes. - -4. That branch of biology which is termed Morphology is a commentary -upon, and expansion of, the proposition that widely different animals -or plants, and widely different parts of animals or plants, are -constructed upon the same plan. From the rough comparison of the -skeleton of a bird with that of a man by Belon, in the sixteenth -century (to go no farther back), down to the theory of the limbs -and the theory of the skull at the present day; or, from the first -demonstration of the homologies of the parts of a flower by C. F. -Wolff, to the present elaborate analysis of the floral organs, -morphology exhibits a continual advance towards the demonstration of a -fundamental unity among the seeming diversities of living structures. -And this demonstration has been completed by the final establishment -of the cell theory, which involves the admission of a primitive -conformity, not only of all the elementary structures in animals and -plants respectively, but of those in the one of these great divisions -of living things with those in the other. No _à priori_ difficulty can -be said to stand in the way of evolution, when it can be shown that -all animals and all plants proceed by modes of development, which are -similar in principle, from a fundamental protoplasmic material. - -5. The innumerable cases of structures, which are rudimentary and -apparently useless, in species, the close allies of which possess -well developed and functionally important homologous structures, are -readily intelligible on the theory of evolution, while it is hard to -conceive their _raison d’être_ on any other hypothesis. However, a -cautious reasoner will probably rather explain such cases deductively -from the doctrine of evolution than endeavour to support the doctrine -of evolution by them. For it is almost impossible to prove that any -structure, however rudimentary, is useless—that is to say, that it -plays no part whatever in the economy; and, if it is in the slightest -degree useful, there is no reason why, on the hypothesis of direct -creation, it should not have been created. Nevertheless, double-edged -as is the argument from rudimentary organs, there is probably none -which has produced a greater effect in promoting the general acceptance -of the theory of evolution. - -6. The older advocates of evolution sought for the causes of the -process exclusively in the influence of varying conditions, such -as climate and station, or hybridisation, upon living forms. Even -Treviranus has got no farther than this point. Lamarck introduced -the conception of the action of an animal on itself as a factor in -producing modification. Starting from the well-known fact that the -habitual use of a limb tends to develop the muscles of the limb, and to -produce a greater and greater facility in using it, he made the general -assumption that the effort of an animal to exert an organ in a given -direction tends to develop the organ in that direction. But a little -consideration showed that, though Lamarck had seized what, as far as -it goes, is a true cause of modification, it is a cause the actual -effects of which are wholly inadequate to account for any considerable -modification in animals, and which can have no influence at all in the -vegetable world; and probably nothing contributed so much to discredit -evolution, in the early part of this century, as the floods of easy -ridicule which were poured upon this part of Lamarck’s speculation. -The theory of natural selection, or survival of the fittest, was -suggested by Wells in 1813, and further elaborated by Matthew in 1831. -But the pregnant suggestions of these writers remained practically -unnoticed and forgotten, until the theory was independently devised -and promulgated by Darwin and Wallace in 1858, and the effect of its -publication was immediate and profound. - -Those who were unwilling to accept evolution, without better grounds -than such as are offered by Lamarck, or the author of that particularly -unsatisfactory book, the “Vestiges of the Natural History of the -Creation,” and who therefore preferred to suspend their judgment on the -question, found, in the principle of selective breeding, pursued in all -its applications with marvellous knowledge and skill by Mr. Darwin, -a valid explanation of the occurrence of varieties and races; and -they saw clearly that, if the explanation would apply to species, it -would not only solve the problem of their evolution, but that it would -account for the facts of teleology, as well as for those of morphology; -and for the persistence of some forms of life unchanged through long -epochs of time, while others undergo comparatively rapid metamorphosis. - -How far “natural selection” suffices for the production of species -remains to be seen. Few can doubt that, if not the whole cause, it is a -very important factor in that operation; and that it must play a great -part in the sorting out of varieties into those which are transitory -and those which are permanent. - -But the causes and conditions of variation have yet to be thoroughly -explored; and the importance of natural selection will not be impaired, -even if further inquiries should prove that variability is definite, -and is determined in certain directions rather than in others, by -conditions inherent in that which varies. It is quite conceivable that -every species tends to produce varieties of a limited number and kind, -and that the effect of natural selection is to favour the development -of some of these, while it opposes the development of others along -their predetermined lines of modification. - -7. No truths brought to light by biological investigation were better -calculated to inspire distrust of the dogmas intruded upon science -in the name of theology, than those which relate to the distribution -of animals and plants on the surface of the earth. Very skilful -accommodation was needful, if the limitation of sloths to South -America, and of the ornithorhynchus to Australia, was to be reconciled -with the literal interpretation of the history of the deluge; and, -with the establishment of the existence of distinct provinces of -distribution, any serious belief in the peopling of the world by -migration from Mount Ararat came to an end. - -Under these circumstances, only one alternative was left for those -who denied the occurrence of evolution—namely, the supposition that -the characteristic animals and plants of each great province were -created, as such, within the limits in which we find them. And as the -hypothesis of “specific centres,” thus formulated, was heterodox from -the theological point of view, and unintelligible under its scientific -aspect, it may be passed over without further notice, as a phase of -transition from the creational to the evolutional hypothesis. - -8. In fact, the strongest and most conclusive arguments in favour of -evolution are those which are based upon the facts of geographical, -taken in conjunction with those of geological, distribution. - -Both Mr. Darwin and Mr. Wallace lay great stress on the close relation -which obtains between the existing fauna of any region and that of -the immediately antecedent geological epoch in the same region; and -rightly, for it is in truth inconceivable that there should be no -genetic connection between the two. It is possible to put into words -the proposition that all the animals and plants of each geological -epoch were annihilated, and that a new set of very similar forms was -created for the next epoch; but it may be doubted if any one who ever -tried to form a distinct mental image of this process of spontaneous -generation on the grandest scale, ever really succeeded in realising it. - -Within the last twenty years, the attention of the best palæontologists -has been withdrawn from the hodman’s work of making “new species” -of fossils, to the scientific task of completing our knowledge of -individual species, and tracing out the succession of the forms -presented by any given type in time. - -Those who desire to inform themselves of the nature and extent of -the evidence bearing on these questions may consult the works of -Rütimeyer, Gaudry, Kowalewsky, Marsh, and the writer of the present -article. It must suffice, in this place, to say that the successive -forms of the Equine type have been fully worked out; while those of -nearly all the other existing types of Ungulate mammals and of the -_Carnivora_ have been almost as closely followed through the Tertiary -deposits; the gradations between birds and reptiles have been traced; -and the modifications undergone by the _Crocodilia_, from the Triassic -epoch to the present day, have been demonstrated. On the evidence of -palæontology, the evolution of many existing forms of animal life -from their predecessors is no longer an hypothesis, but an historical -fact; it is only the nature of the physiological factors to which that -evolution is due which is still open to discussion. - - - - -XII. - -THE COMING OF AGE OF “THE ORIGIN OF SPECIES.” - - -Many of you will be familiar with the aspect of this small -green-covered book. It is a copy of the first edition of the “Origin of -Species,” and bears the date of its production—the 1st of October 1859. -Only a few months, therefore, are needed to complete the full tale of -twenty-one years since its birthday. - -Those whose memories carry them back to this time will remember that -the infant was remarkably lively, and that a great number of excellent -persons mistook its manifestations of a vigorous individuality for -mere naughtiness; in fact there was a very pretty turmoil about its -cradle. My recollections of the period are particularly vivid; for, -having conceived a tender affection for a child of what appeared to me -to be such remarkable promise, I acted for some time in the capacity -of a sort of under-nurse, and thus came in for my share of the storms -which threatened the very life of the young creature. For some years it -was undoubtedly warm work; but considering how exceedingly unpleasant -the apparition of the new-comer must have been to those who did not -fall in love with him at first sight, I think it is to the credit of -our age that the war was not fiercer, and that the more bitter and -unscrupulous forms of opposition died away as soon as they did. - -I speak of this period as of something past and gone, possessing -merely an historical, I had almost said an antiquarian interest. For, -during the second decade of the existence of the “Origin of Species,” -opposition, though by no means dead, assumed a different aspect. On the -part of all those who had any reason to respect themselves, it assumed -a thoroughly respectful character. By this time, the dullest began to -perceive that the child was not likely to perish of any congenital -weakness or infantile disorder, but was growing into a stalwart -personage, upon whom mere goody scoldings and threatenings with the -birch-rod were quite thrown away. - -In fact, those who have watched the progress of science within the last -ten years will bear me out to the full, when I assert that there is no -field of biological inquiry in which the influence of the “Origin of -Species” is not traceable; the foremost men of science in every country -are either avowed champions of its leading doctrines, or at any rate -abstain from opposing them; a host of young and ardent investigators -seek for and find inspiration and guidance in Mr. Darwin’s great work; -and the general doctrine of evolution, to one side of which it gives -expression, obtains, in the phenomena of biology, a firm base of -operations whence it may conduct its conquest of the whole realm of -nature. - -History warns us, however, that it is the customary fate of new truths -to begin as heresies and to end as superstitions; and, as matters now -stand, it is hardly rash to anticipate that, in another twenty years, -the new generation, educated under the influences of the present day, -will be in danger of accepting the main doctrines of the “Origin of -Species,” with as little reflection, and it may be with as little -justification, as so many of our contemporaries, twenty years ago, -rejected them. - -Against any such a consummation let us all devoutly pray; for the -scientific spirit is of more value than its products, and irrationally -held truths may be more harmful than reasoned errors. Now the essence -of the scientific spirit is criticism. It tells us that whenever a -doctrine claims our assent we should reply, Take it if you can compel -it. The struggle for existence holds as much in the intellectual as in -the physical world. A theory is a species of thinking, and its right -to exist is coextensive with its power of resisting extinction by its -rivals. - -From this point of view, it appears to me that it would be but a poor -way of celebrating the Coming of Age of the “Origin of Species,” were I -merely to dwell upon the facts, undoubted and remarkable as they are, -of its far-reaching influence and of the great following of ardent -disciples who are occupied in spreading and developing its doctrines. -Mere insanities and inanities have before now swollen to portentous -size in the course of twenty years. Let us rather ask this prodigious -change in opinion to justify itself; let us inquire whether anything -has happened since 1859, which will explain, on rational grounds, why -so many are worshipping that which they burned, and burning that which -they worshipped. It is only in this way that we shall acquire the means -of judging whether the movement we have witnessed is a mere eddy of -fashion, or truly one with the irreversible current of intellectual -progress, and, like it, safe from retrogressive reaction. - -Every belief is the product of two factors: the first is the state of -the mind to which the evidence in favour of that belief is presented; -and the second is the logical cogency of the evidence itself. In both -these respects, the history of biological science during the last -twenty years appears to me to afford an ample explanation of the change -which has taken place; and a brief consideration of the salient events -of that history will enable us to understand why, if the “Origin of -Species” appeared now, it would meet with a very different reception -from that which greeted it in 1859. - -One-and-twenty years ago, in spite of the work commenced by Hutton and -continued with rare skill and patience by Lyell, the dominant view -of the past history of the earth was catastrophic. Great and sudden -physical revolutions, wholesale creations and extinctions of living -beings, were the ordinary machinery of the geological epic brought into -fashion by the misapplied genius of Cuvier. It was gravely maintained -and taught that the end of every geological epoch was signalised by a -cataclysm, by which every living being on the globe was swept away, -to be replaced by a brand-new creation when the world returned to -quiescence. A scheme of nature which appeared to be modelled on the -likeness of a succession of rubbers of whist, at the end of each of -which the players upset the table and called for a new pack, did not -seem to shock anybody. - -I may be wrong, but I doubt if, at the present time, there is a single -responsible representative of these opinions left. The progress -of scientific geology has elevated the fundamental principle of -uniformitarianism, that the explanation of the past is to be sought -in the study of the present, into the position of an axiom; and the -wild speculations of the catastrophists, to which we all listened with -respect a quarter of a century ago, would hardly find a single patient -hearer at the present day. No physical geologist now dreams of seeking, -outside the range of known natural causes, for the explanation of -anything that happened millions of years ago, any more than he would be -guilty of the like absurdity in regard to current events. - -The effect of this change of opinion upon biological speculation -is obvious. For, if there have been no periodical general physical -catastrophes, what brought about the assumed general extinctions -and re-creations of life which are the corresponding biological -catastrophes? And, if no such interruptions of the ordinary course of -nature have taken place in the organic, any more than in the inorganic, -world, what alternative is there to the admission of evolution? - -The doctrine of evolution in biology is the necessary result of the -logical application of the principles of uniformitarianism to the -phenomena of life. Darwin is the natural successor of Hutton and Lyell, -and the “Origin of Species” the logical sequence of the “Principles of -Geology.” - -The fundamental doctrine of the “Origin of Species,” as of all forms of -the theory of evolution applied to biology, is “that the innumerable -species, genera, and families of organic beings with which the world -is peopled have all descended, each within its own class or group, -from common parents, and have all been modified in the course of -descent.”[92] - -And, in view of the facts of geology, it follows that all living -animals and plants “are the lineal descendants of those which lived -long before the Silurian epoch.”[93] - -It is an obvious consequence of this theory of descent with -modification, as it is sometimes called, that all plants and animals, -however different they may now be, must, at one time or other, have -been connected by direct or indirect intermediate gradations, and that -the appearance of isolation presented by various groups of organic -beings must be unreal. - -No part of Mr. Darwin’s work ran more directly counter to the -prepossessions of naturalists twenty years ago than this. And such -prepossessions were very excusable, for there was undoubtedly a great -deal to be said, at that time, in favour of the fixity of species -and of the existence of great breaks, which there was no obvious or -probable means of filling up, between various groups of organic beings. - -For various reasons, scientific and unscientific, much had been made of -the hiatus between man and the rest of the higher mammalia, and it is -no wonder that issue was first joined on this part of the controversy. -I have no wish to revive past and happily forgotten controversies; but -I must state the simple fact that the distinctions in the cerebral and -other characters, which were so hotly affirmed to separate man from all -other animals in 1860, have all been demonstrated to be non-existent, -and that the contrary doctrine is now universally accepted and taught. - -But there were other cases in which the wide structural gaps asserted -to exist between one group of animals and another, were by no means -fictitious; and, when such structural breaks were real, Mr. Darwin -could account for them only by supposing that the intermediate forms -which once existed had become extinct. In a remarkable passage he says— - -“We may thus account even for the distinctness of whole classes from -each other—for instance, of birds from all other vertebrate animals—by -the belief that many animal forms of life have been utterly lost, -through which the early progenitors of birds were formerly connected -with the early progenitors of the other vertebrate classes.”[94] - -Adverse criticism made merry over such suggestions as these. Of course -it was easy to get out of the difficulty by supposing extinction; but -where was the slightest evidence that such intermediate forms between -birds and reptiles as the hypothesis required ever existed? And then -probably followed a tirade upon this terrible forsaking of the paths of -“Baconian induction.” - -But the progress of knowledge has justified Mr. Darwin to an extent -which could hardly have been anticipated. In 1862, the specimen of -_Archæopteryx_, which, until the last two or three years, has remained -unique, was discovered; and it is an animal which, in its feathers and -the greater part of its organisation, is a veritable bird, while, in -other parts, it is as distinctly reptilian. - -In 1868, I had the honour of bringing under your notice, in this -theatre, the results of investigations made, up to that time, into -the anatomical characters of certain ancient reptiles, which showed -the nature of the modifications in virtue of which the type of the -quadrupedal reptile passed into that of a bipedal bird; and abundant -confirmatory evidence of the justice of the conclusions which I then -laid before you has since come to light. - -In 1875, the discovery of the toothed birds of the cretaceous -formation in North America by Professor Marsh completed the series of -transitional forms between birds and reptiles, and removed Mr. Darwin’s -proposition that “many animal forms of life have been utterly lost, -through which the early progenitors of birds were formerly connected -with the early progenitors of the other vertebrate classes,” from the -region of hypothesis to that of demonstrable fact. - -In 1859, there appeared to be a very sharp and clear hiatus between -vertebrated and invertebrated animals, not only in their structure, -but, what was more important, in their development. I do not think -that we even yet know the precise links of connection between the two; -but the investigations of Kowalewsky and others upon the development -of _Amphioxus_ and of the _Tunicata_ prove, beyond a doubt, that the -differences which were supposed to constitute a barrier between the two -are non-existent. There is no longer any difficulty in understanding -how the vertebrate type may have arisen from the invertebrate, though -the full proof of the manner in which the transition was actually -effected may still be lacking. - -Again, in 1859, there appeared to be a no less sharp separation -between the two great groups of flowering and flowerless plants. It -is only subsequently that the series of remarkable investigations -inaugurated by Hofmeister has brought to light the extraordinary and -altogether unexpected modifications of the reproductive apparatus in -the _Lycopodiaceæ_, the _Rhizocarpeæ_, and the _Gymnospermeæ_, by which -the ferns and the mosses are gradually connected with the Phanerogamic -division of the vegetable world. - -So, again, it is only since 1859 that we have acquired that wealth of -knowledge of the lowest forms of life which demonstrates the futility -of any attempt to separate the lowest plants from the lowest animals, -and shows that the two kingdoms of living nature have a common -borderland which belongs to both or to neither. - -Thus it will be observed that the whole tendency of biological -investigation, since 1859, has been in the direction of removing the -difficulties which the apparent breaks in the series created at that -time; and the recognition of gradation is the first step towards the -acceptance of evolution. - -As another great factor in bringing about the change of opinion which -has taken place among naturalists, I count the astonishing progress -which has been made in the study of embryology. Twenty years ago, -not only were we devoid of any accurate knowledge of the mode of -development of many groups of animals and plants, but the methods of -investigation were rude and imperfect. At the present time, there is -no important group of organic beings the development of which has -not been carefully studied; and the modern methods of hardening and -section-making enable the embryologist to determine the nature of the -process, in each case, with a degree of minuteness and accuracy which -is truly astonishing to those whose memories carry them back to the -beginnings of modern histology. And the results of these embryological -investigations are in complete harmony with the requirements of the -doctrine of evolution. The first beginnings of all the higher forms of -animal life are similar, and however diverse their adult conditions, -they start from a common foundation. Moreover, the process of -development of the animal or the plant from its primary egg or germ is -a true process of evolution—a progress from almost formless to more or -less highly organised matter, in virtue of the properties inherent in -that matter. - -To those who are familiar with the process of development, all _à -priori_ objections to the doctrine of biological evolution appear -childish. Any one who has watched the gradual formation of a -complicated animal from the protoplasmic mass, which constitutes the -essential element of a frog’s or a hen’s egg, has had under his eyes -sufficient evidence that a similar evolution of the whole animal world -from the like foundation is, at any rate, possible. - -Yet another product of investigation has largely contributed to the -removal of the objections to the doctrine of evolution current in 1859. -It is the proof afforded by successive discoveries that Mr. Darwin -did not over-estimate the imperfection of the geological record. No -more striking illustration of this is needed than a comparison of our -knowledge of the mammalian fauna of the Tertiary epoch in 1859 with its -present condition. M. Gaudry’s researches on the fossils of Pikermi -were published in 1868, those of Messrs. Leidy, Marsh, and Cope, on -the fossils of the Western Territories of America, have appeared -almost wholly since 1870, those of M. Filhol on the phosphorites of -Quercy in 1878. The general effect of these investigations has been -to introduce to us a multitude of extinct animals, the existence of -which was previously hardly suspected; just as if zoologists were to -become acquainted with a country, hitherto unknown, as rich in novel -forms of life as Brazil or South Africa once were to Europeans. Indeed, -the fossil fauna of the Western Territories of America bids fair to -exceed in interest and importance all other known Tertiary deposits -put together; and yet, with the exception of the case of the American -tertiaries, these investigations have extended over very limited areas; -and, at Pikermi, were confined to an extremely small space. - - -Such appear to me to be the chief events in the history of the progress -of knowledge during the last twenty years, which account for the -changed feeling with which the doctrine of evolution is at present -regarded by those who have followed the advance of biological science, -in respect of those problems which bear indirectly upon that doctrine. - -But all this remains mere secondary evidence. It may remove dissent, -but it does not compel assent. Primary and direct evidence in favour of -evolution can be furnished only by palæontology. The geological record, -so soon as it approaches completeness, must, when properly questioned, -yield either an affirmative or a negative answer: if evolution has -taken place, there will its mark be left; if it has not taken place, -there will lie its refutation. - -What was the state of matters in 1859? Let us hear Mr. Darwin, who may -be trusted always to state the case against himself as strongly as -possible. - -“On this doctrine of the extermination of an infinitude of connecting -links between the living and extinct inhabitants of the world, and at -each successive period between the extinct and still older species, -why is not every geological formation charged with such links? Why -does not every collection of fossil remains afford plain evidence -of the gradation and mutation of the forms of life? We meet with no -such evidence, and this is the most obvious and plausible of the many -objections which may be urged against my theory.”[95] - -Nothing could have been more useful to the opposition than this -characteristically candid avowal, twisted as it immediately was into -an admission that the writer’s views were contradicted by the facts of -palæontology. But, in fact, Mr. Darwin made no such admission. What he -says in effect is, not that palæontological evidence is against him, -but that it is not distinctly in his favour; and, without attempting -to attenuate the fact, he accounts for it by the scantiness and the -imperfection of that evidence. - -What is the state of the case now, when, as we have seen, the amount -of our knowledge respecting the mammalia of the Tertiary epoch -is increased fifty-fold, and in some directions even approaches -completeness? - -Simply this, that, if the doctrine of evolution had not existed, -palæontologists must have invented it, so irresistibly is it forced -upon the mind by the study of the remains of the Tertiary mammalia -which have been brought to light since 1859. - -Among the fossils of Pikermi, Gaudry found the successive stages -by which the ancient civets passed into the more modern hyænas; -through the Tertiary deposits of Western America, Marsh tracked the -successive forms by which the ancient stock of the horse has passed -into its present form; and innumerable less complete indications of -the mode of evolution of other groups of the higher mammalia have been -obtained. In the remarkable memoir on the phosphorites of Quercy, to -which I have referred, M. Filhol describes no fewer than seventeen -varieties of the genus _Cynodictis_, which fill up all the interval -between the viverine animals and the bear-like dog _Amphicyon_; nor -do I know any solid ground of objection to the supposition that, in -this _Cynodictis-Amphicyon_ group, we have the stock whence all the -Viveridæ, Felidæ, Hyænidæ, Canidæ, and perhaps the Procyonidæ and -Ursidæ, of the present fauna have been evolved. On the contrary, there -is a great deal to be said in favour. - -In the course of summing up his results, M. Filhol observes:— - - “During the epoch of the phosphorites, great changes took - place in animal forms, and almost the same types as those - which now exist became defined from one another. - - “Under the influence of natural conditions of which - we have no exact knowledge, though traces of them are - discoverable, species have been modified in a thousand - ways: races have arisen which, becoming fixed, have thus - produced a corresponding number of secondary species.” - -In 1859, language of which this is an unintentional paraphrase, -occurring in the “Origin of Species,” was scouted as wild speculation; -at present, it is a sober statement of the conclusions to which an -acute and critically-minded investigator is led by large and patient -study of the facts of palæontology. I venture to repeat what I have -said before, that, so far as the animal world is concerned, evolution -is no longer a speculation, but a statement of historical fact. It -takes its place alongside of those accepted truths which must be -reckoned with by philosophers of all schools. - -Thus when, on the first day of October next, the “Origin of Species” -comes of age, the promise of its youth will be amply fulfilled; and we -shall be prepared to congratulate the venerated author of the book, not -only that the greatness of his achievement and its enduring influence -upon the progress of knowledge have won him a place beside our Harvey; -but, still more, that, like Harvey, he has lived long enough to outlast -detraction and opposition, and to see the stone that the builders -rejected become the head-stone of the corner. - - - - -XIII. - -THE CONNECTION OF THE BIOLOGICAL SCIENCES WITH MEDICINE. - - -The great body of theoretical and practical knowledge which has been -accumulated by the labours of some eighty generations, since the dawn -of scientific thought in Europe, has no collective English name to -which an objection may not be raised; and I use the term “medicine” as -that which is least likely to be misunderstood; though, as every one -knows, the name is commonly applied, in a narrower sense, to one of the -chief divisions of the totality of medical science. - -Taken in this broad sense, “medicine” not merely denotes a kind -of knowledge, but it comprehends the various applications of that -knowledge to the alleviation of the sufferings, the repair of the -injuries, and the conservation of the health, of living beings. In -fact, the practical aspect of medicine so far dominates over every -other, that the “Healing Art” is one of its most widely-received -synonyms. It is so difficult to think of medicine otherwise than as -something which is necessarily connected with curative treatment, that -we are apt to forget that there must be, and is, such a thing as a -pure science of medicine—a “pathology” which has no more necessary -subservience to practical ends than has zoology or botany. - -The logical connection between this purely scientific doctrine of -disease, or pathology, and ordinary biology, is easily traced. -Living matter is characterised by its innate tendency to exhibit a -definite series of the morphological and physiological phenomena which -constitute organisation and life. Given a certain range of conditions, -and these phenomena remain the same, within narrow limits, for each -kind of living thing. They furnish the normal and typical character -of the species, and, as such, they are the subject-matter of ordinary -biology. - -Outside the range of these conditions, the normal course of the -cycle of vital phenomena is disturbed; abnormal structure makes its -appearance, or the proper character and mutual adjustment of the -functions cease to be preserved. The extent and the importance of these -deviations from the typical life may vary indefinitely. They may have -no noticeable influence on the general well-being of the economy, or -they may favour it. On the other hand, they may be of such a nature -as to impede the activities of the organism, or even to involve its -destruction. - -In the first case, these perturbations are ranged under the wide and -somewhat vague category of “variations;” in the second, they are called -lesions, states of poisoning, or diseases; and, as morbid states, they -lie within the province of pathology. No sharp line of demarcation can -be drawn between the two classes of phenomena. No one can say where -anatomical variations end and tumours begin, nor where modification -of function, which may at first promote health, passes into disease. -All that can be said is, that whatever change of structure or function -is hurtful belongs to pathology. Hence it is obvious that pathology -is a branch of biology; it is the morphology, the physiology, the -distribution, the ætiology of abnormal life. - -However obvious this conclusion may be now, it was nowise apparent -in the infancy of medicine. For it is a peculiarity of the physical -sciences, that they are independent in proportion as they are -imperfect; and it is only as they advance that the bonds which really -unite them all become apparent. Astronomy had no manifest connection -with terrestrial physics before the publication of the “Principia;” -that of chemistry with physics is of still more modern revelation; -that of physics and chemistry with physiology, has been stoutly denied -within the recollection of most of us, and perhaps still may be. - -Or, to take a case which affords a closer parallel with that of -medicine. Agriculture has been cultivated from the earliest times, -and, from a remote antiquity, men have attained considerable practical -skill in the cultivation of the useful plants, and have empirically -established many scientific truths concerning the conditions under -which they flourish. But, it is within the memory of many of us, that -chemistry on the one hand, and vegetable physiology on the other, -attained a stage of development such that they were able to furnish -a sound basis for scientific agriculture. Similarly, medicine took -its rise in the practical needs of mankind. At first, studied without -reference to any other branch of knowledge, it long maintained, indeed -still to some extent maintains, that independence. Historically, its -connection with the biological sciences has been slowly established, -and the full extent and intimacy of that connection are only now -beginning to be apparent. I trust I have not been mistaken in supposing -that an attempt to give a brief sketch of the steps by which a -philosophical necessity has become an historical reality, may not be -devoid of interest, possibly of instruction, to the members of this -great Congress, profoundly interested as all are in the scientific -development of medicine. - -The history of medicine is more complete and fuller than that of any -other science, except, perhaps, astronomy; and, if we follow back the -long record as far as clear evidence lights us, we find ourselves taken -to the early stages of the civilisation of Greece. The oldest hospitals -were the temples of Æsculapius; to these Asclepeia, always erected on -healthy sites, hard by fresh springs and surrounded by shady groves, -the sick and the maimed resorted to seek the aid of the god of health. -Votive tablets or inscriptions recorded the symptoms, no less than the -gratitude, of those who were healed; and, from these primitive clinical -records, the half-priestly, half-philosophic caste of the Asclepiads -compiled the data upon which the earliest generalisations of medicine, -as an inductive science, were based. - -In this state, pathology, like all the inductive sciences at their -origin, was merely natural history; it registered the phenomena of -disease, classified them, and ventured upon a prognosis, wherever -the observation of constant co-existences and sequences suggested a -rational expectation of the like recurrence under similar circumstances. - -Further than this it hardly went. In fact, in the then state of -knowledge, and in the condition of philosophical speculation at that -time, neither the causes of the morbid state, nor the _rationale_ of -treatment, were likely to be sought for as we seek for them now. The -anger of a god was a sufficient reason for the existence of a malady, -and a dream ample warranty for therapeutic measures; that a physical -phenomenon must needs have a physical cause was not the implied or -expressed axiom that it is to us moderns. - -The great man whose name is inseparately connected with the foundation -of medicine, Hippocrates, certainly knew very little, indeed -practically nothing, of anatomy or physiology; and he would, probably, -have been perplexed, even to imagine the possibility of a connection -between the zoological studies of his contemporary Democritus and -medicine. Nevertheless, in so far as he, and those who worked before -and after him, in the same spirit, ascertained, as matters of -experience, that a wound, or a luxation, or a fever, presented such -and such symptoms, and that the return of the patient to health was -facilitated by such and such measures, they established laws of -nature, and began the construction of the science of pathology. All -true science begins with empiricism—though all true science is such -exactly, in so far as it strives to pass out of the empirical stage -into that of the deduction of empirical from more general truths. -Thus, it is not wonderful, that the early physicians had little or -nothing to do with the development of biological science; and, on the -other hand, that the early biologists did not much concern themselves -with medicine. There is nothing to show that the Asclepiads took any -prominent share in the work of founding anatomy, physiology, zoology, -and botany. Rather do these seem to have sprung from the early -philosophers, who were essentially natural philosophers, animated by -the characteristically Greek thirst for knowledge as such. Pythagoras, -Alcmeon, Democritus, Diogenes of Apollonia, are all credited with -anatomical and physiological investigations; and, though Aristotle is -said to have belonged to an Asclepiad family, and not improbably owed -his taste for anatomical and zoological inquiries to the teachings of -his father, the physician Nicomachus, the “Historia Animalium,” and -the treatise “De Partibus Animalium,” are as free from any allusion to -medicine as if they had issued from a modern biological laboratory. - -It may be added, that it is not easy to see in what way it could have -benefited a physician of Alexander’s time to know all that Aristotle -knew on these subjects. His human anatomy was too rough to avail -much in diagnosis; his physiology was too erroneous to supply data -for pathological reasoning. But when the Alexandrian school, with -Erasistratus and Herophilus at their head, turned to account the -opportunities of studying human structure, afforded to them by the -Ptolemies, the value of the large amount of accurate knowledge thus -obtained to the surgeon for his operations, and to the physician for -his diagnosis of internal disorders, became obvious, and a connection -was established between anatomy and medicine, which has ever become -closer and closer. Since the revival of learning, surgery, medical -diagnosis, and anatomy have gone hand in hand. Morgagni called his -great work, “De sedibus et causis morborum per anatomen indagatis,” and -not only showed the way to search out the localities and the causes -of disease by anatomy, but himself travelled wonderfully far upon the -road. Bichat, discriminating the grosser constituents of the organs and -parts of the body, one from another, pointed out the direction which -modern research must take; until, at length, histology, a science of -yesterday, as it seems to many of us, has carried the work of Morgagni -as far as the microscope can take us, and has extended the realm of -pathological anatomy to the limits of the invisible world. - -Thanks to the intimate alliance of morphology with medicine, the -natural history of disease has, at the present day, attained a -high degree of perfection. Accurate regional anatomy has rendered -practicable the exploration of the most hidden parts of the organism, -and the determination, during life, of morbid changes in them; -anatomical and histological postmortem investigations have supplied -physicians with a clear basis upon which to rest the classification -of diseases, and with unerring tests of the accuracy or inaccuracy of -their diagnoses. - -If men could be satisfied with pure knowledge, the extreme precision -with which, in these days, a sufferer may be told what is happening, -and what is likely to happen, even in the most recondite parts of -his bodily frame, should be as satisfactory to the patient as it is -to the scientific pathologist who gives him the information. But I -am afraid it is not; and even the practising physician, while nowise -underestimating the regulative value of accurate diagnosis, must often -lament that so much of his knowledge rather prevents him from doing -wrong than helps him to do right. - -A scorner of physic once said that nature and disease may be compared -to two men fighting, the doctor to a blind man with a club, who strikes -into the _melée_, sometimes hitting the disease, and sometimes hitting -nature. The matter is not mended if you suppose the blind man’s hearing -to be so acute that he can register every stage of the struggle, and -pretty clearly predict how it will end. He had better not meddle at -all, until his eyes are opened—until he can see the exact position of -the antagonists, and make sure of the effect of his blows. But that -which it behoves the physician to see, not, indeed, with his bodily -eye, but with clear, intellectual vision, is a process, and the chain -of causation involved in that process. Disease, as we have seen, is -a perturbation of the normal activities of a living body, and it is, -and must remain, unintelligible, so long as we are ignorant of the -nature of these normal activities. In other words, there could be no -real science of pathology until the science of physiology had reached a -degree of perfection unattained, and indeed unattainable, until quite -recent times. - -So far as medicine is concerned, I am not sure that physiology, such -as it was down to the time of Harvey, might as well not have existed. -Nay, it is perhaps no exaggeration to say that, within the memory of -living men, justly renowned practitioners of medicine and surgery knew -less physiology than is now to be learned from the most elementary -text-book; and, beyond a few broad facts, regarded what they did know -as of extremely little practical importance. Nor am I disposed to -blame them for this conclusion; physiology must be useless, or worse -than useless, to pathology, so long as its fundamental conceptions are -erroneous. - -Harvey is often said to be the founder of modern physiology; and there -can be no question that the elucidations of the function of the heart, -of the nature of the pulse, and of the course of the blood, put forth -in the ever-memorable little essay, “De motu cordis,” directly worked -a revolution in men’s views of the nature and of the concatenation of -some of the most important physiological processes among the higher -animals; while, indirectly, their influence was perhaps even more -remarkable. - -But, though Harvey made this signal and perennially important -contribution to the physiology of the moderns, his general conception -of vital processes was essentially identical with that of the ancients; -and, in the “Exercitationes de generatione,” and notably in the -singular chapter “De calido innato,” he shows himself a true son of -Galen and of Aristotle. - -For Harvey, the blood possesses powers superior to those of the -elements; it is the seat of a soul which is not only vegetative, but -also sensitive and motor. The blood maintains and fashions all parts of -the body, “idque summâ cum providentiâ et intellectu in finem certum -agens, quasi ratiocinio quodam uteretur.” - -Here is the doctrine of the “pneuma,” the product of the philosophical -mould into which the animism of primitive men ran in Greece, in full -force. Nor did its strength abate for long after Harvey’s time. The -same ingrained tendency of the human mind to suppose that a process -is explained when it is ascribed to a power of which nothing is known -except that it is the hypothetical agent of the process, gave rise, in -the next century, to the animism of Stahl; and, later, to the doctrine -of a vital principle, that “asylum ignorantiæ” of physiologists, which -has so easily accounted for everything and explained nothing, down to -our own times. - -Now the essence of modern, as contrasted with ancient, physiological -science appears to me to lie in its antagonism to animistic hypotheses -and animistic phraseology. It offers physical explanations of vital -phenomena, or frankly confesses that it has none to offer. And, so far -as I know, the first person who gave expression to this modern view -of physiology, who was bold enough to enunciate the proposition that -vital phenomena, like all the other phenomena of the physical world, -are, in ultimate analysis, resolvable into matter and motion, was René -Descartes. - -The fifty-four years of life of this most original and powerful thinker -are widely overlapped, on both sides, by the eighty of Harvey, who -survived his younger contemporary by seven years, and takes pleasure -in acknowledging the French philosopher’s appreciation of his great -discovery. - -In fact, Descartes accepted the doctrine of the circulation as -propounded by “Harvæus médecin d’Angleterre,” and gave a full account -of it in his first work, the famous “Discours de la Méthode,” which -was published in 1637, only nine years after the exercitation “De motu -cordis;” and, though differing from Harvey on some important points -(in which it may be noted, in passing, Descartes was wrong and Harvey -right), he always speaks of him with great respect. And so important -does the subject seem to Descartes, that he returns to it in the -“Traité des Passions,” and in the “Traité de l’Homme.” - -It is easy to see that Harvey’s work must have had a peculiar -significance for the subtle thinker, to whom we owe both the -spiritualistic and the materialistic philosophies of modern times. It -was in the very year of its publication, 1628, that Descartes withdrew -into that life of solitary investigation and meditation of which his -philosophy was the fruit. And, as the course of his speculations -led him to establish an absolute distinction of nature between the -material and the mental worlds, he was logically compelled to seek -for the explanation of the phenomena of the material world within -itself; and having allotted the realm of thought to the soul, to see -nothing but extension and motion in the rest of nature. Descartes uses -“thought” as the equivalent of our modern term “consciousness.” Thought -is the function of the soul, and its only function. Our natural heat -and all the movements of the body, says he, do not depend on the soul. -Death does not take place from any fault of the soul, but only because -some of the principal parts of the body become corrupted. The body of a -living man differs from that of a dead man in the same way as a watch -or other automaton (that is to say, a machine which moves of itself) -when it is wound up and has, in itself, the physical principle of the -movements which the mechanism is adapted to perform, differs from the -same watch, or other machine, when it is broken, and the physical -principle of its movement no longer exists. All the actions which are -common to us and the lower animals depend only on the conformation of -our organs, and the course which the animal spirits take in the brain, -the nerves, and the muscles; in the same way as the movement of a watch -is produced by nothing but the force of its spring and the figure of -its wheels and other parts. - -Descartes’ “Treatise on Man” is a sketch of human physiology, in which -a bold attempt is made to explain all the phenomena of life, except -those of consciousness, by physical reasonings. To a mind turned in -this direction, Harvey’s exposition of the heart and vessels as a -hydraulic mechanism must have been supremely welcome. - -Descartes was not a mere philosophical theorist, but a hardworking -dissector and experimenter, and he held the strongest opinion -respecting the practical value of the new conception which he was -introducing. He speaks of the importance of preserving health, and of -the dependence of the mind on the body being so close that, perhaps, -the only way of making men wiser and better than they are, is to be -sought in medical science. “It is true,” says he, “that as medicine -is now practised, it contains little that is very useful; but without -any desire to depreciate, I am sure that there is no one, even among -professional men, who will not declare that all we know is very little -as compared with that which remains to be known; and that we might -escape an infinity of diseases of the mind, no less than of the body, -and even perhaps from the weakness of old age, if we had sufficient -knowledge of their causes, and of all the remedies with which nature -has provided us.”[96] So strongly impressed was Descartes with this, -that he resolved to spend the rest of his life in trying to acquire -such a knowledge of nature as would lead to the construction of a -better medical doctrine.[97] The anti-Cartesians found material for -cheap ridicule in these aspirations of the philosopher; and it is -almost needless to say that, in the thirteen years which elapsed -between the publication of the “Discours” and the death of Descartes, -he did not contribute much to their realisation. But, for the next -century, all progress in physiology took place along the lines which -Descartes laid down. - -The greatest physiological and pathological work of the seventeenth -century, Borelli’s treatise “De Motu Animalium,” is, to all intents -and purposes, a development of Descartes’ fundamental conception; and -the same may be said of the physiology and pathology of Boerhaave, -whose authority dominated in the medical world of the first half of the -eighteenth century. - -With the origin of modern chemistry, and of electrical science, in the -latter half of the eighteenth century, aids in the analysis of the -phenomena of life, of which Descartes could not have dreamed, were -offered to the physiologist. And the greater part of the gigantic -progress which has been made in the present century is a justification -of the prevision of Descartes. For it consists, essentially, in a more -and more complete resolution of the grosser organs of the living body -into physico-chemical mechanisms. - -“I shall try to explain our whole bodily machinery in such a way, that -it will be no more necessary for us to suppose that the soul produces -such movements as are not voluntary, than it is to think that there is -in a clock a soul which causes it to show the hours.”[98] These words -of Descartes might be appropriately taken as a motto by the author of -any modern treatise on physiology. - -But though, as I think, there is no doubt that Descartes was the -first to propound the fundamental conception of the living body as -a physical mechanism, which is the distinctive feature of modern, -as contrasted with ancient physiology, he was misled by the natural -temptation to carry out, in all its details, a parallel between the -machines with which he was familiar, such as clocks and pieces of -hydraulic apparatus, and the living machine. In all such machines there -is a central source of power, and the parts of the machine are merely -passive distributors of that power. The Cartesian school conceived -of the living body as a machine of this kind; and herein they might -have learned from Galen, who, whatever ill use he may have made of the -doctrine of “natural faculties,” nevertheless had the great merit of -perceiving that local forces play a great part in physiology. - -The same truth was recognised by Glisson, but it was first prominently -brought forward in the Hallerian doctrine of the “vis insita” of -muscles. If muscle can contract without nerve, there is an end of the -Cartesian mechanical explanation of its contraction by the influx of -animal spirits. - -The discoveries of Trembley tended in the same direction. In the -freshwater _Hydra_, no trace was to be found of that complicated -machinery upon which the performance of the functions in the higher -animals was supposed to depend. And yet the hydra moved, fed, grew, -multiplied, and its fragments exhibited all the powers of the whole. -And, finally, the work of Caspar F. Wolff,[99] by demonstrating the -fact that the growth and development of both plants and animals take -place antecedently to the existence of their grosser organs, and are, -in fact, the causes and not the consequences of organisation (as then -understood), sapped the foundations of the Cartesian physiology as a -complete expression of vital phenomena. - -For Wolff, the physical basis of life is a fluid, possessed of a “vis -essentialis” and a “solidescibilitas,” in virtue of which it gives rise -to organisation; and, as he points out, this conclusion strikes at the -root of the whole iatro-mechanical system. - -In this country, the great authority of John Hunter exerted a similar -influence; though it must be admitted that the too sibylline utterances -which are the outcome of Hunter’s struggles to define his conceptions -are often susceptible of more than one interpretation. Nevertheless, -on some points Hunter is clear enough. For example, he is of opinion -that “Spirit is only a property of matter” (“Introduction to Natural -History,” p. 6), he is prepared to renounce animism (_l.c._ p. 8), -and his conception of life is so completely physical that he thinks -of it as something which can exist in a state of combination in the -food. “The aliment we take in has in it, in a fixed state, the real -life; and this does not become active until it has got into the lungs; -for there it is freed from its prison” (“Observations on Physiology,” -p. 113). He also thinks that “It is more in accord with the general -principles of the animal machine to suppose that none of its effects -are produced from any mechanical principle whatever; and that every -effect is produced from an action in the part; which action is produced -by a stimulus upon the part which acts, or upon some other part with -which this part sympathises so as to take up the whole action” (_l.c._ -p. 152). - -And Hunter is as clear as Wolff, with whose work he was probably -unacquainted, that “whatever life is, it most certainly does not depend -upon structure or organisation” (_l.c._ p. 114). - -Of course it is impossible that Hunter could have intended to deny -the existence of purely mechanical operations in the animal body. -But while, with Borelli and Boerhaave, he looked upon absorption, -nutrition, and secretion as operations effected by means of the small -vessels, he differed from the mechanical physiologists, who regarded -these operations as the result of the mechanical properties of the -small vessels, such as the size, form, and disposition of their canals -and apertures. Hunter, on the contrary, considers them to be the effect -of properties of these vessels which are not mechanical but vital. “The -vessels,” says he, “have more of the polypus in them than any other -part of the body,” and he talks of the “living and sensitive principles -of the arteries,” and even of the “dispositions or feelings of the -arteries.” “When the blood is good and genuine the sensations of the -arteries, or the dispositions for sensation, are agreeable.... It is -then they dispose of the blood to the best advantage, increasing the -growth of the whole, supplying any losses, keeping up a due succession, -etc.” (_l.c._ p. 133). - -If we follow Hunter’s conceptions to their logical issue, the life of -one of the higher animals is essentially the sum of the lives of all -the vessels, each of which is a sort of physiological unit, answering -to a polype; and, as health is the result of the normal “action of the -vessels,” so is disease an effect of their abnormal action. Hunter thus -stands in thought, as in time, midway between Borelli on the one hand, -and Bichat on the other. - -The acute founder of general anatomy, in fact, outdoes Hunter in his -desire to exclude physical reasonings from the realm of life. Except in -the interpretation of the action of the sense organs, he will not allow -physics to have anything to do with physiology. - -“To apply the physical sciences to physiology is to explain the -phenomena of living bodies by the laws of inert bodies. Now this -is a false principle, hence all its consequences are marked with -the same stamp. Let us leave to chemistry its affinity; to physics, -its elasticity and its gravity. Let us invoke for physiology only -sensibility and contractility.”[100] - -Of all the unfortunate dicta of men of eminent ability this seems -one of the most unhappy, when we think of what the application of -the methods and the data of physics and chemistry has done towards -bringing physiology into its present state. It is not too much to say -that one half of a modern text-book of physiology consists of applied -physics and chemistry; and that it is exactly in the exploration of the -phenomena of sensibility and contractility that physics and chemistry -have exerted the most potent influence. - -Nevertheless, Bichat rendered a solid service to physiological progress -by insisting upon the fact that what we call life, in one of the higher -animals, is not an indivisible unitary archæus dominating, from its -central seat, the parts of the organism, but a compound result of the -synthesis of the separate lives of those parts. - -“All animals,” says he, “are assemblages of different organs, each of -which performs its function and concurs, after its fashion, in the -preservation of the whole. They are so many special machines in the -general machine which constitutes the individual. But each of these -special machines is itself compounded of many tissues of very different -natures, which in truth constitute the elements of those organs” -(_l.c._ lxxix.) “The conception of a proper vitality is applicable only -to these simple tissues, and not to the organs themselves” (_l.c._ -lxxxiv.) - -And Bichat proceeds to make the obvious application of this doctrine of -synthetic life, if I may so call it, to pathology. Since diseases are -only alterations of vital properties, and the properties of each tissue -are distinct from those of the rest, it is evident that the diseases of -each tissue must be different from those of the rest. Therefore, in any -organ composed of different tissues, one may be diseased and the other -remain healthy; and this is what happens in most cases (_l.c._ lxxxv.) - -In a spirit of true prophecy, Bichat says, “We have arrived at an -epoch, in which pathological anatomy should start afresh.” For, as the -analysis of the organs had led him to the tissues, as the physiological -units of the organism; so, in a succeeding generation, the analysis -of the tissues led to the cell as the physiological element of the -tissues. The contemporaneous study of development brought out the same -result; and the zoologists and botanists, exploring the simplest and -the lowest forms of animated beings, confirmed the great induction of -the cell theory. Thus the apparently opposed views, which have been -battling with one another ever since the middle of the last century, -have proved to be each half the truth. - -The proposition of Descartes that the body of a living man is a -machine, the actions of which are explicable by the known laws of -matter and motion, is unquestionably largely true. But it is also -true, that the living body is a synthesis of innumerable physiological -elements, each of which may nearly be described, in Wolff’s words, as a -fluid possessed of a “vis essentialis,” and a “solidescibilitas”; or, -in modern phrase, as protoplasm susceptible of structural metamorphosis -and functional metabolism: and that the only machinery, in the precise -sense in which the Cartesian school understood mechanism, is, that -which co-ordinates and regulates these physiological units into an -organic whole. - -In fact, the body is a machine of the nature of an army, not of that -of a watch or of a hydraulic apparatus. Of this army each cell is a -soldier, an organ a brigade, the central nervous system headquarters -and field telegraph, the alimentary and circulatory system the -commissariat. Losses are made good by recruits born in camp, and the -life of the individual is a campaign, conducted successfully for a -number of years, but with certain defeat in the long run. - -The efficacy of an army, at any given moment, depends on the health of -the individual soldier, and on the perfection of the machinery by which -he is led and brought into action at the proper time; and, therefore, -if the analogy holds good, there can be only two kinds of diseases, the -one dependent on abnormal states of the physiological units, the other -on perturbations of their co-ordinating and alimentative machinery. - -Hence, the establishment of the cell theory, in normal biology, was -swiftly followed by a “cellular pathology,” as its logical counterpart. -I need not remind you how great an instrument of investigation this -doctrine has proved in the hands of the man of genius to whom its -development is due, and who would probably be the last to forget that -abnormal conditions of the co-ordinative and distributive machinery of -the body are no less important factors of disease. - -Henceforward, as it appears to me, the connection of medicine with the -biological sciences is clearly defined. Pure pathology is that branch -of biology which defines the particular perturbation of cell-life, or -of the co-ordinating machinery, or of both, on which the phenomena of -disease depend. - -Those who are conversant with the present state of biology will hardly -hesitate to admit that the conception of the life of one of the higher -animals as the summation of the lives of a cell aggregate, brought into -harmonious action by a co-ordinative machinery formed by some of these -cells, constitutes a permanent acquisition of physiological science. -But the last form of the battle between the animistic and the physical -views of life is seen in the contention whether the physical analysis -of vital phenomena can be carried beyond this point or not. - -There are some to whom living protoplasm is a substance, even such as -Harvey conceived the blood to be, “summâ cum providentiâ et intellectu -in finem certum agens, quasi ratiocinio quodam;” and who look with as -little favour as Bichat did, upon any attempt to apply the principles -and the methods of physics and chemistry to the investigation of the -vital processes of growth, metabolism, and contractility. They stand -upon the ancient ways; only, in accordance with that progress towards -democracy, which a great political writer has declared to be the fatal -characteristic of modern times, they substitute a republic formed by a -few billion of “animulæ” for the monarchy of the all-pervading “anima.” - -Others, on the contrary, supported by a robust faith in the universal -applicability of the principles laid down by Descartes, and seeing -that the actions called “vital” are, so far as we have any means of -knowing, nothing but changes of place of particles of matter, look to -molecular physics to achieve the analysis of the living protoplasm -itself into a molecular mechanism. If there is any truth in the -received doctrines of physics, that contrast between living and inert -matter, on which Bichat lays so much stress, does not exist. In nature, -nothing is at rest, nothing is amorphous; the simplest particle of -that which men in their blindness are pleased to call “brute matter” -is a vast aggregate of molecular mechanisms performing complicated -movements of immense rapidity, and sensitively adjusting themselves -to every change in the surrounding world. Living matter differs from -other matter in degree and not in kind; the microcosm repeats the -macrocosm; and one chain of causation connects the nebulous original of -suns and planetary systems with the protoplasmic foundation of life and -organisation. - -From this point of view, pathology is the analogue of the theory of -perturbations in astronomy; and therapeutics resolves itself into -the discovery of the means by which a system of forces competent to -eliminate any given perturbation may be introduced into the economy. -And, as pathology bases itself upon normal physiology, so therapeutics -rests upon pharmacology; which is, strictly speaking, a part of the -great biological topic of the influence of conditions on the living -organism, and has no scientific foundation apart from physiology. - -It appears to me that there is no more hopeful indication of the -progress of medicine towards the ideal of Descartes than is to -be derived from a comparison of the state of pharmacology, at the -present day, with that which existed forty years ago. If we consider -the knowledge positively acquired, in this short time, of the _modus -operandi_ of urari, of atropia, of physostigmin, of veratria, of casca, -of strychnia, of bromide of potassium, of phosphorus, there can surely -be no ground for doubting that, sooner or later, the pharmacologist -will supply the physician with the means of affecting, in any desired -sense, the functions of any physiological element of the body. It will, -in short, become possible to introduce into the economy a molecular -mechanism which, like a very cunningly-contrived torpedo, shall find -its way to some particular group of living elements, and cause an -explosion among them, leaving the rest untouched. - -The search for the explanation of diseased states in modified -cell-life; the discovery of the important part played by parasitic -organisms in the ætiology of disease; the elucidation of the action of -medicaments by the methods and the data of experimental physiology; -appear to me to be the greatest steps which have ever been made towards -the establishment of medicine on a scientific basis. I need hardly say -they could not have been made except for the advance of normal biology. - -There can be no question, then, as to the nature or the value of the -connection between medicine and the biological sciences. There can -be no doubt that the future of pathology and of therapeutics, and, -therefore, that of practical medicine, depends upon the extent to -which those who occupy themselves with these subjects are trained in -the methods and impregnated with the fundamental truths of biology. - -And, in conclusion, I venture to suggest that the collective sagacity -of this Congress could occupy itself with no more important question -than with this: How is medical education to be arranged, so that, -without entangling the student in those details of the systematist -which are valueless to him, he may be enabled to obtain a firm grasp of -the great truths respecting animal and vegetable life, without which, -notwithstanding all the progress of scientific medicine, he will still -find himself an empiric? - - - - -FOOTNOTES: - -[1] See _Joseph Priestley_, p. 94, _infra_. - -[2] The advocacy of the introduction of physical science into general -education by George Combe and others commenced a good deal earlier; but -the movement had acquired hardly any practical force before the time to -which I refer. - -[3] _Essays in Criticism_, p. 37. - -[4] “Quamvis enim melius sit bene facere quam nosse, prius tamen est -nosse quam facere.”—“Karoli Magni Regis Constitutio de Scholis per -singula Episcopia et Monasteria instituendis,” addressed to the Abbot -of Fulda. Baluzius, “Capitularia Regum Francorum,” T. i., p. 202. - -[5] Inaugural Address delivered to the University of St. Andrew -February 1, 1867, by J. S. Mill, Rector of the University (pp. 32, 33). - -[6] “Suggestions for Academical Organisation, with Especial Reference -to Oxford.” By the Rector of Lincoln. - -[7] Goethe, _Zahme Xenien, Vierte Abtheilung_. I should be glad to take -credit for the close and vigorous English version; but it is my wife’s, -and not mine. - -[8] See the “Programme” for 1878, issued by the Society of Arts, p. 14. - -[9] It is perhaps advisable to remark that the important question of -the professional education of managers of industrial works is not -touched in the foregoing remarks. - -[10] “Quasi cursores, vitaï lampada tradunt.”—LUCR. _De Rerum Nat._ ii. -78. - -[11] “Life and Correspondence of Dr. Priestley,” by J. T. Rutt. Vol. i. -p. 50. - -[12] “Autobiography,” §§ 100, 101. - -[13] See “The Life of Mary Anne Schimmelpenninck.” Mrs. -Schimmelpenninck (_née_ Galton) remembered Priestley very well, and her -description of him is worth quotation:—“A man of admirable simplicity, -gentleness and kindness of heart, united with great acuteness of -intellect. I can never forget the impression produced on me by the -serene expression of his countenance. He, indeed, seemed present with -God by recollection, and with man by cheerfulness. I remember that, -in the assembly of these distinguished men, amongst whom Mr. Boulton, -by his noble manner, his fine countenance (which much resembled that -of Louis XIV.), and princely munificence, stood pre-eminently as the -great Mecænas; even as a child, I used to feel, when Dr. Priestley -entered after him, that the glory of the one was terrestrial, that of -the other celestial; and utterly far as I am removed from a belief in -the sufficiency of Dr. Priestley’s theological creed, I cannot but here -record this evidence of the eternal power of any portion of the truth -held in its vitality.” - -[14] Even Mrs. Priestley, who might be forgiven for regarding the -destroyers of her household gods with some asperity, contents herself, -in writing to Mrs. Barbauld, with the sarcasm that the Birmingham -people “will scarcely find so many respectable characters, a second -time, to make a bonfire of.” - -[15] “Experiments and Observations on Different Kinds of Air,” vol. ii. -p. 31. - -[16] _Ibid._ pp. 34, 35. - -[17] “Experiments and Observations on Different Kinds of Air,” vol. ii. -p. 40. - -[18] _Ibid._ p. 48. - -[19] _Ibid._ p. 55. - -[20] “Experiments and Observations on Different Kinds of Air,” vol. ii. -p. 60. The italics are Priestley’s own. - -[21] “In all the newspapers and most of the periodical publications -I was represented as an unbeliever in Revelation, and no better than -an atheist.”—“Autobiography,” Rutt. vol. i. p. 124. “On the walls of -houses, etc., and especially where I usually went, were to be seen, in -large characters, ‘MADAN FOR EVER; DAMN PRIESTLEY; NO PRESBYTERIANISM; -DAMN THE PRESBYTERIANS,’ etc. etc.; and, at one time, I was followed by -a number of boys, who left their play, repeating what they had seen on -the walls, and shouting out, ‘_Damn Priestley; damn him, damn him, for -ever, for ever_,’ etc. etc. This was no doubt a lesson which they had -been taught by their parents, and what they, I fear, had learned from -their superiors.”—“Appeal to the Public on the Subject of the Riots at -Birmingham.” - -[22] First Series. “On Some of the Peculiarities of the Christian -Religion.” Essay I. Revelation of a Future State. - -[23] Not only is Priestley at one with Bishop Courtenay in this -matter, but with Hartley and Bonnet, both of them stout champions of -Christianity. Moreover, Archbishop Whately’s essay is little better -than an expansion of the first paragraph of Hume’s famous essay on -the Immortality of the Soul:—“By the mere light of reason it seems -difficult to prove the immortality of the soul; the arguments for it -are commonly derived either from metaphysical topics, or moral, or -physical. But it is in reality the Gospel, and the Gospel alone, that -has brought _life and immortality to light_.” It is impossible to -imagine that a man of Whately’s tastes and acquirements had not read -Hume or Hartley, though he refers to neither. - -[24] “Essay on the First Principles of Government.” Second edition, -1771, p. 13. - -[25] “Utility of Establishments,” in “Essay on First Principles of -Government,” p. 198, 1771. - -[26] In 1732 Doddridge was cited for teaching without the Bishop’s -leave, at Northampton. - -[27] The recent proceedings of the House of Commons throw a doubt, -which it is to be hoped may speedily be removed, on the accuracy of -this statement. (September 1881.) - -[28] “Discours sur les révolutions de la surface du globe,” _Recherches -sur les ossemens fossiles_, Ed. iv. t. i. p. 185. - -[29] “On the Eclipses of Agathocles, Thales, and Xerxes,” -_Philosophical Transactions_, vol. cxliii. - -[30] There is every reason to believe that living plants, like living -animals, always respire, and, in respiring, absorb oxygen and give off -carbonic acid; but, that in green plants exposed to daylight or to -the electric light, the quantity of oxygen evolved in consequence of -the decomposition of carbonic acid by a special apparatus which green -plants possess exceeds that absorbed in the concurrent respiratory -process. - -[31] Darwin, “Insectivorous Plants,” p. 289. - -[32] I purposely assume that the air with which the bean is supplied in -the case stated contains no ammoniacal salts. - -[33] The recent researches of Pringsheim have raised a host of -questions as to the exact share taken by chlorophyll in the chemical -operations which are effected by the green parts of plants. It may -be that the chlorophyll is only a constant concomitant of the actual -deoxidising apparatus. - -[34] “Researches in the Life-history of a Cercomonad: a Lesson in -Biogenesis;” and “Further Researches in the Life-history of the -Monads.”—“Monthly Microscopical Journal,” 1873. - -[35] Excellently described by Stein, almost all of whose statements I -have verified. - -[36] “Histoire des Sciences Naturelles,” i. p. 152. - -[37] The text I have followed is that given by Aubert and Wimmer, -“Aristoteles Thierkunde; kritisch berichtigter Text mit deutschen -Uebersetzung;” but I have tried here and there to bring the English -version rather closer to the original than the German translation, -excellent as it is, seems to me to be. - -[38] In modern works on Veterinary Anatomy the lungs are sometimes -described as two lobes of a single organ. - -[39] “Histoire des Sciences Naturelles.”—t. i. p. 130. - -[40] “Aristotle, a Chapter from the History of Science.” - -[41] I quote, here and always, Cousin’s edition of the works of -Descartes, as most convenient for reference. It is entitled “Œuvres -complètes de Descartes,” publiées par Victor Cousin. 1824. - -[42] “Les Passions de l’Âme,” Article xxxiii. - -[43] “Recherches physiologiques sur la Vie et la Mort.” Par Xav. -Bichat. Art. Sixième. - -[44] Locke (_Human Understanding_, Book II., chap. viii. 37) uses -Descartes’ illustration for the same purpose, and warns us that “most -of the ideas of sensation are no more the likeness of something -existing without us than the names that stand for them are the likeness -of our ideas, which yet, upon hearing, they are apt to excite in us,” a -declaration which paved the way for Berkeley. - -[45] “Passions de l’Âme,” Art. xxxvi. - -[46] “Quamcumque Bruti actionem, velut automati mechanici motum -artificialem, in eo consistere quod se primò sensibile aliquod spiritus -animales afficiens, eosque introrsum convertens, _sensionem_ excitat, -à qua mox iidem spiritus, velut undulatione reflexâ denuo retrorsum -commoti atque pro concinno ipsius fabricæ organorum, et partium ordine, -in certos nervos musculosque determinati, respectivos _membrorum motus_ -perficiunt.”—WILLIS: “De Animâ Brutorum,” p. 5, ed. 1763. - -[47] “Les Passions de l’Âme,” xlii. - -[48] Haller, “Primæ Lineæ,” ed. iii. “Sensus Interni,” dlviii. - -[49] “Réponse de M. Descartes à M. Morus.” 1649. “Œuvres,” tome x. p. -204. “Mais le plus grand de tous les préjugés que nous ayons retenus de -notre enfance, est celui de croire que les bêtes pensent,” etc. - -[50] Malebranche states the view taken by orthodox Cartesians in -1689 very forcibly: “Ainsi dans les chiens, les chats, et les autres -animaux, il n’y a ny intelligence, ny âme spirituelle comme on l’entend -ordinairement. Ils mangent sans plaisir; ils crient sans douleur; ils -croissent sans le sçavoir; ils ne désirent rien; ils ne connoissent -rien; et s’ils agissent avec adresse et d’une manière qui marque -l’intelligence, c’est que Dieu les faisant pour les conserver, il a -conformé leurs corps de telle manière, qu’ils évitent organiquement, -sans le sçavoir, tout ce qui peut les détruire et qu’ils semblent -craindre.” (“Feuillet de Conches. Méditations Métaphysiques et -Correspondance de N. Malebranche. Neuvième Méditation.” 1841.) - -[51] See the remarkable essay of Göltz, “Beiträge zur Lehre von den -Functionen der Nervencentren des Frosches,” published in 1869. I have -repeated Göltz’s experiments, and obtained the same results. - -[52] “De l’Automatisme de la Mémoire et du Souvenir, dans le -Somnambulisme pathologique.” Par le Dr. E. Mesnet, Médecin de l’Hôpital -Saint-Antoine. “L’Union Médicale,” Juillet 21 et 23, 1874. My attention -was first called to a summary of this remarkable case, which appeared -in the “Journal des Débats” for the 7th of August 1874, by my friend -General Strachey, F.R.S. - -[53] Those who have had occasion to become acquainted with the -phenomena of somnambulism and of mesmerism, will be struck with the -close parallel which they present to the proceedings of F. in his -abnormal state. But the great value of Dr. Mesnet’s observations lies -in the fact that the abnormal condition is traceable to a definite -injury to the brain, and that the circumstances are such as to keep -us clear of the cloud of voluntary and involuntary fictions in which -the truth is too often smothered in such cases. In the unfortunate -subjects of such abnormal conditions of the brain, the disturbance of -the sensory and intellectual faculties is not unfrequently accompanied -by a perturbation of the moral nature, which may manifest itself in a -most astonishing love of lying for its own sake. And, in this respect, -also, F.’s case is singularly instructive, for though, in his normal -state, he is a perfectly honest man, in his abnormal condition he is -an inveterate thief, stealing and hiding away whatever he can lay -hands on, with much dexterity, and with an absurd indifference as to -whether the property is his own or not. Hoffman’s terrible conception -of the “Doppelt-gänger” is realised by men in this state—who live two -lives, in the one of which they may be guilty of the most criminal -acts, while, in the other, they are eminently virtuous and respectable. -Neither life knows anything of the other. Dr. Mesnet states that he -has watched a man in his abnormal state elaborately prepare to hang -himself, and has let him go on until asphyxia set in, when he cut him -down. But on passing into the normal state the would-be suicide was -wholly ignorant of what had happened. The problem of responsibility is -here as complicated as that of the prince-bishop, who swore as a prince -and not as a bishop. “But, highness, if the prince is damned, what will -become of the bishop?” said the peasant. - -[54] “Lay Sermons, Essays and Reviews,” p. 355. - -[55] “Essai de Psychologie,” chap. xxvii. - -[56] In justice to Reid, however, it should be stated that the chapters -on sensation in the “Essays on the Intellectual Powers” (1785) exhibit -a great improvement. He is, in fact, in advance of his commentator, as -the note to Essay II. chap. ii. p. 248 of Hamilton’s edition shows. - -[57] Haller, amplifying Descartes, writes in the “Primæ Lineæ,” -CCCLXVI.—“Non est adeo obscurum sensum omnem oriri ab objecti -sensibilis impressione in nervum quemcumque corporis humani, et eamdem -per eum nervum ad cerebrum pervenientem tunc demum representari animæ, -quando cerebrum adtigit. Ut etiam hoc falsum sit animam inproximo per -sensoria nervorumque ramos sentire.”... DLVII.—“Dum ergo sentimus -quinque diversissima entia conjunguntur: corpus quod sentimus: -organi sensorii adfectio ab eo corpore: cerebri adfectio a sensorii -percussione nata: in anima nata mutatio: animæ denique conscientia et -sensationis adperceptio.” Nevertheless, Sir William Hamilton gravely -informs his hearers:—“We have no more right to deny that the mind feels -at the finger points, as consciousness assures us, than to assert -that it thinks exclusively in the brain.”—“Lecture on Metaphysics and -Logic,” ii. p. 128. “We have no reason whatever to doubt the report -of consciousness, that we actually perceive at the external point of -sensation, and that we perceive the material reality.”—_Ibid._ p. 129. - -[58] “Observations on Man,” vol. i. p. 11. - -[59] _Ibid._ p. 8. The speculations of Bonnet are remarkably similar -to those of Hartley; and they appear to have originated independently, -though the “Essai de Psychologie” (1754) is of five years’ later date -than the “Observations on Man” (1749). - -[60] “An Inquiry into the Human Mind on the Principles of Common -Sense,” chap. ii. § 2. Reid affirms that “it is genius, and not the -want of it, that adulterates philosophy, and fills it with error and -false theory;” and no doubt his own lucubrations are free from the -smallest taint of the impurity to which he objects. But, for want of -something more than that sort of “common sense,” which is very common -and a little dull, the contemner of genius did not notice that the -admission here made knocks so big a hole in the bottom of “common sense -philosophy,” that nothing can save it from foundering in the dreaded -abyss of Idealism. - -[61] The following diagrammatic scheme may help to elucidate the theory -of sensation:— - - Mediate Knowledge - ┌────────────────────────────┴──────────────────────────────┐ Immediate - Sensiferous Apparatus Knowledge - ┌─────────────────────┴────────────────────┐ ┌───────┴───────┐ - Objects of sense │ Receptive Transmissive Sensificatory │ Sensations and - │(Sense Organ) (Nerve) (Sensorium) │ other States of - │ │ Consciousness - │ │ - Hypothetical │ │ Hypothetical - Substance of │ │ Substance of - Matter │ │ Mind - - └──────────────────────────────────┬─────────────────────────┘ └───────┬───────┘ - Physical World Mental World - └───────┬───────┘└────────────────────────────┬────────────────────────────────┘ - Not Self Self - └───────────────────────────────┬────────────────────────────┘ └───────┬───────┘ - Non-Ego or Object Ego or Subject - -Immediate knowledge is confined to states of consciousness, or, in -other words, to the phenomena of mind. Knowledge of the physical -world, or of one’s own body and of objects external to it, is a system -of beliefs or judgments based on the sensations. The term “self” is -applied not only to the series of mental phenomena which constitute the -ego, but to the fragment of the physical world which is their constant -concomitant. The corporeal self, therefore, is part of the non-ego; -and is objective in relation to the ego as subject. - -[62] “Chaque fibre est une espèce de touche ou de marteau destiné à -rendre un certain ton.”—Bonnet, “Essai de Psychologie,” chap. iv. - -[63] The “Exercitationes de Generatione Animalium,” which Dr. George -Ent extracted from him and published in 1651. - -[64] “De Generatione Animalium,” lib ii. cap. x. - -[65] “De Generatione,” lib. ii. cap. iv. - -[66] “Cependant, pour revenir aux formes ordinaires ou aux âmes -matérielles, cette durée qu’il leur faut attribuer à la place de celle -qu’on avoit attributée aux atomes pourroit faire douter si elles ne -vont pas de corps en corps; ce qui seroit la métempsychose, à peu -près comme quelques philosophes ont cru la transmission du mouvement -et celle des espèces. Mais cette imagination est bien éloignée de la -nature des choses. Il n’y a point de tel passage; et c’est ici où les -transformations de Messieurs Swammerdam, Malpighi, et Leewenhoek, qui -sont des plus excellens observateurs de notre tems, sont venues à mon -secours, et m’ont fait admettre plus aisément, que l’animal, et toute -autre substance organisée ne commence point lorsque nous le croyons, et -que sa generation apparente n’est qu’une développement et une espèce -d’augmentation. Aussi ai je remarqué que l’auteur de la “Recherche de -la Verité,” M. Regis, M. Hartsocker, et d’autres habiles hommes n’ont -pas été fort éloignés de ce sentiment.” Leibnitz, “Système nouveau -de la Nature,” 1695. The doctrine of “Emboîtement” is contained in -the “Considérations sur le principe de vie,” 1705; the preface to the -“Theodicée,” 1710; and the “Principes de la Nature et de la Grace” (§ -6), 1718. - -[67] “Il est vrai que la pensée la plus raisonnable et la plus conforme -à l’experience sur cette question très difficile de la formation du -fœtus; c’est que les enfans sont déja presque tout formés avant même -l’action par laquelle ils sont conçus; et que leurs mères ne font que -leur donner l’accroissement ordinaire dans le temps de la grossesse.” -“De la Recherche de la Verité,” livre ii. chap. vii. p. 334, 7th ed., -1721. - -[68] The writer is indebted to Dr. Allen Thomson for reference to -the evidence contained in a note to Haller’s edition of Boerhaave’s -“Prælectiones Academicæ,” vol. v. pt ii. p. 497, published in 1744, -that Haller originally advocated epigenesis. - -[69] “Considérations sur les Corps organisés,” chap. x. - -[70] Bonnet had the courage of his opinions, and in the “Palingénésie -Philosophique,” part vi. chap, iv., he develops a hypothesis which -he terms “évolution naturelle;” and which, making allowance for his -peculiar views of the nature of generation, bears no small resemblance -to what is understood by “evolution” at the present day:— - -“Si la volonté divine a créé par un seul Acte l’Universalité des êtres, -d’où venoient ces plantes et ces animaux dont Moyse nous decrit la -Production au troisieme et au cinquieme jour du renouvellement de notre -monde? - -“Abuserois-je de la liberté de conjectures si je disois, que les -Plantes et les Animaux qui existent aujourd’hui sont parvenus par une -sorte d’evolution naturelle des Etres organisés qui peuplaient ce -premier Monde, sorti immédiatement des MAINS du CREATEUR?... - -“Ne supposons que trois révolutions. La Terre vient de sortir des MAINS -du CREATEUR. Des causes preparées par sa SAGESSE font développer de -toutes parts les Germes. Les Etres organisés commencent à jouir de -l’existence. Ils étoient probablement alors bien différens de ce qu’ils -sont aujourd’hui. Ils l’etoient autant que ce premier Monde différoit -de celui que nous habitons. Nous manquons de moyens pour juger de ces -dissemblances, et peut-être que le plus habile Naturaliste qui auroit -été placé dans ce premier Monde y auroit entièrement méconnu nos -Plantes et nos Animaux.” - -[71] “Ce mot (germe) ne désignera pas seulement un corps organisé -_réduit en petit_; il désignera encore toute espèce de _préformation -originelle dont un Tout organique pent résulter comme de son principe -immédiat_.”—“Palingénésie Philosophique,” part x. chap. ii. - -[72] “M. Cuvier considérant que tous les êtres organisés sont dérivés -de parens, et ne voyant dans la nature aucune force capable de produire -l’organisation, croyait à la pré-existence des germes; non pas à la -pré-existence d’un être tout formé, puisqu’il est bien évident que -ce n’est que par des développemens successifs que l’être acquiert -sa forme; mais, si l’on peut s’exprimer ainsi, à la pré-existence -du _radical de l’être_, radical qui existe avant que la série des -évolutions ne commence, et qui remonte certainement, suivant la belle -observation de Bonnet, à plusieurs generations.”—Laurillard, “Éloge de -Cuvier,” note 12. - -[73] “Histoire Naturelle,” tom. ii. ed. ii. 1750, p. 350. - -[74] _Ibid._ p. 351. - -[75] See particularly Buffon, _l.c._ p. 41. - -[76] “Exercitationes de Generatione.” Ex. 62, “Ovum esse primordium -commune omnibus animalibus.” - -[77] In some cases of sexless multiplication the germ is a -cell-aggregate—if we call germ only that which is already detached from -the parent organism. - -[78] Harvey, “Exercitationes de Generatione.” Ex. 45, “Quænam sit pulli -materia et quomodo fiat in Ovo.” - -[79] Not yet actually demonstrated in the case of phænogamous plants. - -[80] As Buffon has well said:—“L’idée de ramener l’explication de tous -les phénomènes à des principes mecaniques est assurement grande et -belle, ce pas est le plus hardi qu’on peut faire en philosophie, et -c’est Descartes qui l’a fait.”—_l.c._ p. 50. - -[81] “Principes de la Philosophie,” Troisième partie, § 45. - -[82] “Ethices,” Pars tertia, Præfatio. - -[83] “Système de la Nature.” “Essai sur la Formation des Corps -Organisés,” 1751, xiv. - -[84] “Considérations Philosophiques sur la gradation naturelle des -formes de l’être; ou les essais de la nature qui apprend à faire -l’homme,” 1768. - -[85] “Recherches sur les causes des principaux faits physiques,” par -J. B. Lamarck. Paris. Seconde année de la République. In the preface, -Lamarck says that the work was written in 1776, and presented to the -Academy in 1780; but it was not published before 1794, and, at that -time, it presumably expressed Lamarck’s mature views. It would be -interesting to know what brought about the change of opinion manifested -in the “Recherches sur l’organisation des corps vivants,” published -only seven years later. - -[86] See the “Historical Sketch” prefixed to the last edition of the -“Origin of Species.” - -[87] “First Principles” and “Principles of Biology,” 1860-1864. - -[88] “Generelle Morphologie,” 1866. - -[89] “Il s’agit donc de prouver que la série qui constitute l’échelle -animale réside essentiellement dans la distribution des masses -principales qui la composent et non dans celle des espèces ni même -toujours dans celle des genres.”—“Phil. Zoologique,” chap. v. - -[90] Philosophie Zoologique, première partie, chap. iii. - -[91] “Entwurf einer Darstellung der zwischen dem Embryozustande -der höheren Thiere und dem permanenten der niederen stattfindenden -Parallele,” “Beyträge zur Vergleichenden Anatomie,” Bd. ii. 1811. - -[92] “Origin of Species,” ed. 1, p. 457. - -[93] _Ibid._ p. 458. - -[94] “Origin of the Species,” p. 431. - -[95] “Origin of Species,” ed. 1, p. 463. - -[96] “Discours de la Méthode,” 6^e partie, Ed. Cousin, p. 193. - -[97] _Ibid._ pp. 193 and 211. - -[98] “De la Formation du Fœtus.” - -[99] “Theoria Generationis,” 1759. - -[100] “Anatomie générale,” i. p. liv. - - -THE END. - - -_Printed by_ R. & R. CLARK, _Edinburgh_. - - - - -MESSRS. MACMILLAN & CO.’S PUBLICATIONS. - - -BY THE SAME AUTHOR. - -Lay Sermons, Addresses, and Reviews. Eighth Edition. 8vo. -7s. 6d. - - CONTENTS:—The Advisableness of improving Natural - Knowledge—Emancipation, Black and White—A Liberal - Education, and where to find it—Scientific Education—On - the Study of Zoology—On the Physical Basis of Life—The - Scientific Aspects of Positivism—On a Piece of Chalk, the - Origin of Species, etc. - -Essays selected from Lay Sermons, Addresses, and Reviews. Third -Edition. Crown 8vo. 1s. - -Critiques and Addresses. 8vo. 10s. 6d. - - CONTENTS:—Administrative Nihilism—The School Boards: - what they can do, and what they may do—On Medical - Education—Yeast—On the Formation of Coal—On Coral and - Coral Reefs—On the Methods and Results of Ethnology—On - some Fixed Points in British Ethnology—Palæontology and - the Doctrine of Evolution—Biogenesis and Abiogenesis—Mr. - Darwin’s Critics—The Genealogy of Animals—Bishop Berkeley - on the Metaphysics of Sensation, etc. - -American Addresses, with a Lecture on the Study of Biology. 8vo. 6s. 6d. - - CONTENTS:—Three Lectures on Evolution: I. The Three - Hypotheses respecting the History of Nature; II. The - Hypothesis of Evolution, the Neutral and the Favourable - Evidence; III. The Demonstrative Evidence of Evolution—An - Address on the occasion of the Opening of the Johns - Hopkins University—On the Study of Biology, etc. - -Physiography. An Introduction to the Study of Nature. With Coloured -Plates and Woodcuts. New and Cheaper Edition. Crown 8vo. 6s. -(Thirty-third Thousand.) - - “It would hardly be possible to place a more useful or - suggestive book in the hands of learners and teachers, - or one that is better calculated to make physiography a - favourite subject in the Science Schools.”—_Academy._ - - “It is not too much to say that any one who will read - through this little volume will have a clearer and more - connected idea of the physical phenomena of the earth - than could be obtained by the perusal of many elaborate - treatises.”—_The Guardian._ - -Lessons in Elementary Physiology. With numerous Illustrations. New -Edition. Fcap. 8vo. 4s. 6d. - -Introductory Primer. 18mo. 1s. (Macmillan’s _Science Primers_.) - -Hume. Crown 8vo. Paper Covers, 1s.; Cloth, 1s. 6d. (_English Men of -Letters._) - - “It may fairly be said that no one now living could - have expounded Hume with more sympathy or with equal - perspicuity.”—_Athenæum._ - - -A Course of Practical Instruction in Elementary Biology. By T. H. -HUXLEY, F.R.S., LL.D., assisted by H. N. MARTIN, M.A., M.B., D.Sc., -F.R.S., Fellow of Christ’s College, Cambridge. New Edition, revised and -extended by G. B. HOWES, Assistant Professor of Zoology, Normal School -of Science, and Royal School of Mines; and D. H. SCOTT, M.A., Ph.D., -Assistant Professor of Botany, Normal School of Science, and Royal -School of Mines. New Edition, thoroughly revised. With a Preface by T. -H. HUXLEY, F.R.S. Crown 8vo. 10s. 6d. - - -BY PROFESSOR CLIFFORD, F.R.S., ETC. - - Lectures and Essays. By the late Professor W. K. - CLIFFORD, F.R.S. Edited by LESLIE STEPHEN and FREDERICK - POLLOCK, with Introduction by F. POLLOCK. With Portraits. - Two vols. 8vo. 25s. Popular Edition. Crown 8vo. 8s. 6d. - - Mathematical Papers. Edited by ROBERT TUCKER. With an - Introduction by H. J. STEPHEN SMITH, M.A., LL.D., F.R.S., - etc. Demy 8vo. 30s. - - Seeing and Thinking. With Diagrams. Crown 8vo. 3s. 6d. - (_Nature Series._) - - -BY PROFESSOR P. G. TAIT. - - Lectures on some Recent Advances in Physical Science. - With Illustrations. Second Edition. Revised and enlarged, - with the Lecture on Force, delivered before the British - Association. Crown 8vo. 9s. - - -BY ALFRED RUSSEL WALLACE. - - The Malay Archipelago: The Land of the Orang Utan and the - Bird of Paradise. A Narrative of Travel. With Studies - of Man and Nature. With Maps and Illustrations. Ninth - Edition. Crown 8vo. 7s. 6d. - - Contributions to the Theory of Natural Selection. A - Series of Essays. New Edition. Crown 8vo. 8s. 6d. - - The Geographical Distribution of Animals, with a Study of - the Relations of Living and Extinct Faunas as elucidating - the past changes of the Earth’s Surface. With numerous - Illustrations by ZWECKER, and Maps. Two vols. Medium 8vo. - 42s. - - Tropical Nature; and other Essays. 8vo. 12s. - - Island Life; or, The Phenomena and Causes of Insular - Faunas and Floras, including a revision and attempted - solution of the Problem of Geological Climates. With - Illustrations and Maps. Demy 8vo. 18s. - - -BY SIR JOHN LUBBOCK, BART., M.P., F.R.S., D.C.L. - - Fifty Years of Science. Being the Presidential Address - delivered at York to the British Association, 1881. 8vo. - 2s. 6d. - - The Origin and Metamorphoses of Insects. With - Illustrations. New Edition. Crown 8vo. 3s. 6d. (_Nature - Series._) - - On British Wild Flowers considered in their Relation to - Insects. With Illustrations. New Edition. Cr. 8vo. 4s. - 6d. (_Nature Series._) - - Flowers, Fruits, and Leaves. With Illustrations. Crown - 8vo. 4s. 6d. (_Nature Series._) - - Scientific Lectures. With Illustrations. 8vo. 8s. 6d. - - Political and Educational Addresses. 8vo. 8s. 6d. - - -BY PROFESSOR BOYD DAWKINS, F.R.S., ETC. - - Cave-Hunting: Researches on the Evidence of Caves - respecting the Early Inhabitants of Europe. With Coloured - Plate and Woodcuts. 8vo. 21s. - - Early Man in Britain, and his Place in the Tertiary - Period. With Illustrations. 8vo. 25s. - - -MACMILLAN & CO., LONDON, W.C. - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Science and Culture, and Other Essays, by -Thomas Henry Huxley - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SCIENCE AND CULTURE, OTHER ESSAYS *** - -***** This file should be named 52344-0.txt or 52344-0.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/5/2/3/4/52344/ - -Produced by MWS, Adrian Mastronardi, Jason Palmer, Turgut -Dincer and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at -http://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images -generously made available by The Internet Archive/American -Libraries.) - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part -of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm -concept and trademark. Project Gutenberg is a registered trademark, -and may not be used if you charge for the eBooks, unless you receive -specific permission. If you do not charge anything for copies of this -eBook, complying with the rules is very easy. You may use this eBook -for nearly any purpose such as creation of derivative works, reports, -performances and research. They may be modified and printed and given -away--you may do practically ANYTHING in the United States with eBooks -not protected by U.S. copyright law. Redistribution is subject to the -trademark license, especially commercial redistribution. - -START: FULL LICENSE - -THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE -PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK - -To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free -distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work -(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project -Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full -Project Gutenberg-tm License available with this file or online at -www.gutenberg.org/license. - -Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works - -1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to -and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property -(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all -the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or -destroy all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your -possession. If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a -Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound -by the terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the -person or entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph -1.E.8. - -1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be -used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who -agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few -things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works -even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See -paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this -agreement and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works. See paragraph 1.E below. - -1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the -Foundation" or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection -of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual -works in the collection are in the public domain in the United -States. If an individual work is unprotected by copyright law in the -United States and you are located in the United States, we do not -claim a right to prevent you from copying, distributing, performing, -displaying or creating derivative works based on the work as long as -all references to Project Gutenberg are removed. Of course, we hope -that you will support the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting -free access to electronic works by freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm -works in compliance with the terms of this agreement for keeping the -Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with the work. You can easily -comply with the terms of this agreement by keeping this work in the -same format with its attached full Project Gutenberg-tm License when -you share it without charge with others. - -1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern -what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are -in a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, -check the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this -agreement before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, -distributing or creating derivative works based on this work or any -other Project Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no -representations concerning the copyright status of any work in any -country outside the United States. - -1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: - -1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other -immediate access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear -prominently whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work -on which the phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the -phrase "Project Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, -performed, viewed, copied or distributed: - - This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and - most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no - restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it - under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this - eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the - United States, you'll have to check the laws of the country where you - are located before using this ebook. - -1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is -derived from texts not protected by U.S. copyright law (does not -contain a notice indicating that it is posted with permission of the -copyright holder), the work can be copied and distributed to anyone in -the United States without paying any fees or charges. If you are -redistributing or providing access to a work with the phrase "Project -Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the work, you must comply -either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 or -obtain permission for the use of the work and the Project Gutenberg-tm -trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. - -1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted -with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution -must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any -additional terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms -will be linked to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works -posted with the permission of the copyright holder found at the -beginning of this work. - -1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm -License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this -work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. - -1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this -electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without -prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with -active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project -Gutenberg-tm License. - -1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, -compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including -any word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access -to or distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format -other than "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official -version posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site -(www.gutenberg.org), you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense -to the user, provide a copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means -of obtaining a copy upon request, of the work in its original "Plain -Vanilla ASCII" or other form. Any alternate format must include the -full Project Gutenberg-tm License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. - -1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, -performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works -unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. - -1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing -access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works -provided that - -* You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from - the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method - you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is owed - to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he has - agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the Project - Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments must be paid - within 60 days following each date on which you prepare (or are - legally required to prepare) your periodic tax returns. Royalty - payments should be clearly marked as such and sent to the Project - Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the address specified in - Section 4, "Information about donations to the Project Gutenberg - Literary Archive Foundation." - -* You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies - you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he - does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm - License. You must require such a user to return or destroy all - copies of the works possessed in a physical medium and discontinue - all use of and all access to other copies of Project Gutenberg-tm - works. - -* You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of - any money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the - electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days of - receipt of the work. - -* You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free - distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. - -1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic work or group of works on different terms than -are set forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing -from both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and The -Project Gutenberg Trademark LLC, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm -trademark. Contact the Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. - -1.F. - -1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable -effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread -works not protected by U.S. copyright law in creating the Project -Gutenberg-tm collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may -contain "Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate -or corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other -intellectual property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or -other medium, a computer virus, or computer codes that damage or -cannot be read by your equipment. - -1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right -of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project -Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all -liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal -fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT -LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE -PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE -TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE -LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR -INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH -DAMAGE. - -1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a -defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can -receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a -written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you -received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium -with your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you -with the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in -lieu of a refund. If you received the work electronically, the person -or entity providing it to you may choose to give you a second -opportunity to receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If -the second copy is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing -without further opportunities to fix the problem. - -1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth -in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS', WITH NO -OTHER WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT -LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. - -1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied -warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of -damages. If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement -violates the law of the state applicable to this agreement, the -agreement shall be interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or -limitation permitted by the applicable state law. The invalidity or -unenforceability of any provision of this agreement shall not void the -remaining provisions. - -1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the -trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone -providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in -accordance with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the -production, promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works, harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, -including legal fees, that arise directly or indirectly from any of -the following which you do or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this -or any Project Gutenberg-tm work, (b) alteration, modification, or -additions or deletions to any Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any -Defect you cause. - -Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm - -Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of -electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of -computers including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It -exists because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations -from people in all walks of life. - -Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the -assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's -goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will -remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure -and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future -generations. To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation and how your efforts and donations can help, see -Sections 3 and 4 and the Foundation information page at -www.gutenberg.org - - - -Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation - -The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit -501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the -state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal -Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification -number is 64-6221541. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent permitted by -U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. - -The Foundation's principal office is in Fairbanks, Alaska, with the -mailing address: PO Box 750175, Fairbanks, AK 99775, but its -volunteers and employees are scattered throughout numerous -locations. Its business office is located at 809 North 1500 West, Salt -Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887. Email contact links and up to -date contact information can be found at the Foundation's web site and -official page at www.gutenberg.org/contact - -For additional contact information: - - Dr. Gregory B. Newby - Chief Executive and Director - gbnewby@pglaf.org - -Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg -Literary Archive Foundation - -Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide -spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of -increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be -freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest -array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations -($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt -status with the IRS. - -The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating -charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United -States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a -considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up -with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations -where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To SEND -DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any particular -state visit www.gutenberg.org/donate - -While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we -have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition -against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who -approach us with offers to donate. - -International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make -any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from -outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. - -Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation -methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other -ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. To -donate, please visit: www.gutenberg.org/donate - -Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works. - -Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project -Gutenberg-tm concept of a library of electronic works that could be -freely shared with anyone. For forty years, he produced and -distributed Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of -volunteer support. - -Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed -editions, all of which are confirmed as not protected by copyright in -the U.S. unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not -necessarily keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper -edition. - -Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search -facility: www.gutenberg.org - -This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, -including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to -subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. - diff --git a/old/52344-0.zip b/old/52344-0.zip Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 026d1a7..0000000 --- a/old/52344-0.zip +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/52344-h.zip b/old/52344-h.zip Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 7fbb0e3..0000000 --- a/old/52344-h.zip +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/52344-h/52344-h.htm b/old/52344-h/52344-h.htm deleted file mode 100644 index dc1f4a4..0000000 --- a/old/52344-h/52344-h.htm +++ /dev/null @@ -1,13056 +0,0 @@ -<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" - "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> -<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> - <head> - <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=utf-8" /> - <meta http-equiv="Content-Style-Type" content="text/css" /> - <title> - The Project Gutenberg eBook of Science and Culture and other Essays by Thomas Henry Huxley. - </title> - -<link rel="coverpage" href="images/cover.jpg" /> - <style type="text/css"> - -body { - margin-left: 10%; - margin-right: 10%; -} - - h1 {font-weight: normal; - text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ - clear: both; -} - h2 {font-weight: normal; font-size: 1.2em; - text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ - clear: both; -} -@media handheld { h2 {font-weight: normal; font-size: 1.2em; - text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ - clear: both; -}} - - h3 {font-weight: normal; font-size: 1em; margin-top: 1.5em; - text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ - clear: both; -} -p { - margin-top: .51em; - text-align: justify; - margin-bottom: .49em; -} -.indent { margin-left: 2em; text-indent: -2em; - margin-top: 0em; - text-align: justify; - margin-bottom: 0em; -} - -p.tb { - margin-top: 1.51em; - text-align: justify; - margin-bottom: .49em; -} - -.f12 {font-size: 1.2em;} -.f08 {font-size: .8em;} -.f06 {font-size: .6em;} -.vertb {vertical-align: bottom;} -.padt1 {padding-top: 1em;} -.padt03 {padding-top: 0em;} -.padl2 {padding-left: 2em;} -.h {visibility: hidden;} -.lowercase {text-transform: lowercase;} -small {font-size: .8em;} -hr { - width: 34%; - margin-top: 2em; - margin-bottom: 2em; - margin-left: 33%; - margin-right: 33%; - clear: both; -} - -table { - margin-left: auto; font-size: .9em; - margin-right: auto; -} -@media handheld { table { - margin-left: auto; font-size: .9em; - margin-right: auto; -}} - - .tdl {text-align: left;} - .tdr {text-align: right;} - .tdc {text-align: center;} - - -.pagenum { /* uncomment the next line for invisible page numbers */ - /* visibility: hidden; */ - position: absolute; - left: 92%; - font-size: smaller; - text-align: right; -} /* page numbers */ -.pagenum2 { /* uncomment the next line for invisible page numbers */ - /* visibility: hidden; */ - position: absolute; - left: 96%; - font-size: smaller; - text-align: right; -} /* page numbers */ - - -@media handheld {.pagenum2 { /* uncomment the next line for invisible page numbers */ - visibility: hidden; - position: absolute; - left: 96%; - font-size: smaller; - text-align: right; -}} /* page numbers */ - -.pages { - float: right; - top: auto; - right: 10%; -} - -@media handheld { .pages { - float: right; - top: auto; - right: 10%; -}} - -.blockquot { - margin-left: 0%; font-size: .9em; - margin-right: 0%; -} - -.center {text-align: center;} -.center2 {text-align: center; margin-top: 0em; margin-bottom: 0em; line-height: .9em;} -@media handheld {.center {text-align: center;}} -.right {text-align: right;} - -.smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} - -.gesperrt -{ - letter-spacing: 0.5em; - margin-right: 0em; -} - -/* Images */ -img { - max-width: 100%; /* no image to be wider than screen or containing div */ - height:auto; /* keep height in proportion to width */ -} - -div.figcenter { - clear: both; - margin: 2em auto; - text-align: center; - max-width: 100%; /* div no wider than screen, even when screen is narrow */ -} - -/* Footnotes */ - -.footnote {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-size: 0.9em;} - -.footnote .label {position: absolute; right: 84%; text-align: right;} - -.fnanchor { - vertical-align: super; - font-size: .8em; - text-decoration: - none; -} - -.poetry-container - { - text-align: center; - font-size: 90%; -} - -.poetry - { - display: inline-block; - text-align: left; - } - -.poetry .stanza -{ - margin: 0em 0em 0em 0em; -} - -.poetry .line -{ - margin: 0; - text-indent: -3em; - padding-left: 3em; -} -.poetry .i2 {margin-left: 2em;} -.poetry .i4 {margin-left: 4em;} -.poetry .i05 {margin-left: -.4em;} - - </style> - </head> -<body> - - -<pre> - -The Project Gutenberg EBook of Science and Culture, and Other Essays, by -Thomas Henry Huxley - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most -other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of -the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - -Title: Science and Culture, and Other Essays - -Author: Thomas Henry Huxley - -Release Date: June 15, 2016 [EBook #52344] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SCIENCE AND CULTURE, OTHER ESSAYS *** - - - - -Produced by MWS, Adrian Mastronardi, Jason Palmer, Turgut -Dincer and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at -http://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images -generously made available by The Internet Archive/American -Libraries.) - - - - - - -</pre> - - -<p class="center f12">SCIENCE AND CULTURE</p> -<p class="center f06">AND</p> -<p class="center">OTHER ESSAYS</p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 100px;"> -<img src="images/i_002.jpg" width="100" height="42" alt="" /> -</div> - -<h1> -SCIENCE AND CULTURE<br /> -<small><small><small>AND</small></small></small><br /> -<small>OTHER ESSAYS</small></h1> - -<p class="center f06">BY</p> -<p class="center">THOMAS HENRY HUXLEY, LL.D., F.R.S.<br /><br /></p> - -<p class="center f08">London<br /> -MACMILLAN AND CO.<br /> -<small>AND NEW YORK</small> -1888</p> - -<p class="center f06"><i>All rights reserved</i></p> - -<hr /> - -<p class="center f06"> -<i>First Edition printed 1881<br /> -Reprinted 1882, 1888.</i></p> - -<hr /> - -<h2>PREFACE.</h2> - -<p><span class="smcap">The</span> Addresses, Lectures, and Essays gathered together -in this volume have appeared at intervals -during the past seven years, and I can give no better -reason for republishing them in their present form, -than the fact that three earlier collections of a similar -nature have been received with favour, and, indeed, -have not yet ceased to be in request.</p> - -<p>I beg leave to offer my best thanks to the Editors -and Publishers of the various publications in which -these pieces have appeared, for their kindly accorded -permission to reprint them.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap f08">London.</span> <i>October 1881.</i></p> - -<hr /> - -<h2>CONTENTS.</h2> - -<table summary="CONTENTS." border="0" ><tr> -<td class="tdc padt1"><p class="center">I.<br /> -SCIENCE AND CULTURE.</p></td> -</tr><tr> -<td class="tdl"><p class="indent">An Address delivered at the Opening of Sir Josiah Mason’s Science College, -at Birmingham, on the 1st of October 1880<span class="h">Pages1 to 23</span><span class="pages">Pages<a href="#Page_1">1</a> to 23</span></p></td> -</tr><tr> -<td class="tdc padt1"><p class="center">II.<br /> -UNIVERSITIES: ACTUAL AND IDEAL.</p></td> -</tr><tr> -<td class="tdl"><p class="indent">The Inaugural Address of the Lord Rector of the University of Aberdeen, -27th February 1874.—<cite>Contemporary Review</cite>, 1874<span class="h">Pages1 to 23</span><span class="pages"><a href="#Page_24">24</a> to 64</span></p></td> -</tr><tr> -<td class="tdc padt1"><p class="center">III.<br /> -TECHNICAL EDUCATION.</p></td> -</tr><tr> -<td class="tdl"><p class="indent">An Address delivered to the Working Men’s Club and Institute, -1st December 1877.—<cite>Nineteenth Century</cite>, 1878<span class="h">Pages1 to 23</span><span class="pages"><a href="#Page_65">65</a> to 85</span></p></td> -</tr><tr> -<td class="tdc padt1"><p class="center">IV.<br /> -ELEMENTARY INSTRUCTION IN PHYSIOLOGY.</p></td> -</tr><tr> -<td class="tdl"><p class="indent">Read at the Meeting of the Domestic Economy Congress at Birmingham, -1877<span class="h">Pages1 to 23</span><span class="pages"><a href="#Page_86">86</a> to 93</span> -<span class="pagenum2"><a name="Page_viii" id="Page_viii">viii</a></span></p></td> -</tr><tr> -<td class="tdc padt1"><p class="center">V.<br /> -JOSEPH PRIESTLEY.</p></td> -</tr><tr> -<td class="tdl"><p class="indent">An Address delivered on the occasion of the Presentation of a Statue of -Priestley to the Town of Birmingham, on the 1st of August 1874.—<cite>Macmillan’s -Magazine</cite>, 1874<span class="h">Pages1 to 23</span><span class="pages"><a href="#Page_94">94</a> to 127</span></p></td> -</tr><tr> -<td class="tdc padt1"><p class="center">VI.<br /> -ON THE METHOD OF ZADIG.</p></td> -</tr><tr> -<td class="tdl"><p class="indent">A Lecture delivered at the Working Men’s College, Great Ormond Street, -1880.—<cite>Nineteenth Century</cite>, 1880<span class="h">Pages1 to 23</span><span class="pages"><a href="#Page_128">128</a> to 148</span></p></td> -</tr><tr> -<td class="tdc padt1"><p class="center">VII.<br /> -ON THE BORDER TERRITORY BETWEEN THE ANIMAL AND THE -VEGETABLE KINGDOMS.</p></td> -</tr><tr> -<td class="tdl"><p class="indent">An Evening Lecture at the Royal Institution, Friday, January 28, -1876.—<cite>Macmillan’s Magazine</cite>, 1874<span class="h">Pages1 to 23</span><span class="pages"><a href="#Page_149">149</a> to 179</span></p></td> -</tr><tr> -<td class="tdc padt1"><p class="center">VIII.<br /> -ON CERTAIN ERRORS RESPECTING THE STRUCTURE OF THE HEART ATTRIBUTED TO ARISTOTLE.</p></td> -</tr><tr> -<td class="tdl"><p class="indent"><cite>Nature</cite>, 6th November 1879<span class="h">Pages1 to 23</span><span class="pages"><a href="#Page_180">180</a> to 198</span></p></td> -</tr><tr> -<td class="tdc padt1"><p class="center">IX.<br /> -ON THE HYPOTHESIS THAT ANIMALS ARE AUTOMATA, AND ITS -HISTORY.</p></td> -</tr><tr> -<td class="tdl"><p class="indent">An Address delivered at the Meeting of the British Association for the -Advancement of Science, at Belfast, 1874.—<cite>Fortnightly Review</cite>, -1874<span class="h">Pages1 to 23</span><span class="pages"><a href="#Page_199">199</a> to 245</span> -<span class="pagenum2"><a name="Page_ix" id="Page_ix">ix</a></span></p></td> -</tr><tr> -<td class="tdc padt1"><p class="center">X.<br /> - -ON SENSATION AND THE UNITY OF STRUCTURE OF THE SENSIFEROUS ORGANS.</p></td> -</tr><tr> -<td class="tdl"><p class="indent">An Evening Lecture at the Royal Institution, Friday, March 7, 1879.—<cite>Nineteenth -Century</cite>, 1879<span class="h">Pages1 to 23</span><span class="pages"><a href="#Page_246">246</a> to 273</span></p></td> -</tr><tr> -<td class="tdc padt1"><p class="center">XI.<br /> -EVOLUTION IN BIOLOGY.</p></td> -</tr><tr> -<td class="tdl"><p class="indent">The <cite>Encyclopædia Britannica</cite>, Ninth Edition, vol. viii. 1878<span class="h">Pages1 to 23</span><span class="pages"><a href="#Page_274">274</a> to 309</span></p></td> -</tr><tr> -<td class="tdc padt1"><p class="center">XII.<br /> -THE COMING OF AGE OF “THE ORIGIN OF SPECIES.”</p></td> -</tr><tr> -<td class="tdl"><p class="indent">An evening Lecture at the Royal Institution, Friday, 9th April 1880.—<cite>Nature</cite>, -1880<span class="h">Pages1 to 23</span><span class="pages"><a href="#Page_310">310</a> to 324</span></p></td> -</tr><tr> -<td class="tdc padt1"><p class="center">XIII.<br /> -THE CONNECTION OF THE BIOLOGICAL SCIENCES WITH MEDICINE.</p></td> -</tr><tr> -<td class="tdl"><p class="indent">An Address delivered at the Meeting of the International Medical -Congress in London, 9th August 1881<span class="h">Pages1 to 23</span><span class="pages"><a href="#Page_325">325</a> to 349</span></p></td> -</tr></table> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1"> </a></span></p> - -<h2>I.<br /><br /> - -SCIENCE AND CULTURE.</h2> - -<p><span class="smcap">Six</span> years ago, as some of my present hearers may -remember, I had the privilege of addressing a large -assemblage of the inhabitants of this city, who had -gathered together to do honour to the memory of -their famous townsman, Joseph Priestley;<a name="FNanchor_1_1" id="FNanchor_1_1"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_1" class="fnanchor">1</a> and, if -any satisfaction attaches to posthumous glory, we -may hope that the manes of the burnt-out philosopher -were then finally appeased.</p> - -<p>No man, however, who is endowed with a fair -share of common sense, and not more than a fair share -of vanity, will identify either contemporary or posthumous -fame with the highest good; and Priestley’s -life leaves no doubt that he, at any rate, set a much -higher value upon the advancement of knowledge, -and the promotion of that freedom of thought which -is at once the cause and the consequence of intellectual -progress.</p> - -<p>Hence I am disposed to think that, if Priestley -could be amongst us to-day, the occasion of our -meeting would afford him even greater pleasure than -the proceedings which celebrated the centenary of his -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2">2</a></span>chief discovery. The kindly heart would be moved, -the high sense of social duty would be satisfied, by -the spectacle of well-earned wealth, neither squandered -in tawdry luxury and vainglorious show, nor scattered -with the careless charity which blesses neither him -that gives nor him that takes, but expended in the -execution of a well-considered plan for the aid of -present and future generations of those who are willing -to help themselves.</p> - -<p>We shall all be of one mind thus far. But it is -needful to share Priestley’s keen interest in physical -science; and to have learned, as he had learned, the -value of scientific training in fields of inquiry apparently -far remote from physical science; in order to -appreciate, as he would have appreciated, the value -of the noble gift which Sir Josiah Mason has bestowed -upon the inhabitants of the Midland district.</p> - -<p>For us children of the nineteenth century, however, -the establishment of a college under the conditions of -Sir Josiah Mason’s Trust, has a significance apart from -any which it could have possessed a hundred years -ago. It appears to be an indication that we are reaching -the crisis of the battle, or rather of the long series -of battles, which have been fought over education in -a campaign which began long before Priestley’s time, -and will probably not be finished just yet.</p> - -<p>In the last century, the combatants were the -champions of ancient literature, on the one side, and -those of modern literature on the other; but, some -thirty years<a name="FNanchor_2_2" id="FNanchor_2_2"></a><a href="#Footnote_2_2" class="fnanchor">2</a> ago, the contest became complicated by -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">3</a></span>the appearance of a third army, ranged round the -banner of Physical Science.</p> - -<p>I am not aware that any one has authority to -speak in the name of this new host. For it must be -admitted to be somewhat of a guerilla force, composed -largely of irregulars, each of whom fights pretty much -for his own hand. But the impressions of a full private, -who has seen a good deal of service in the ranks, -respecting the present position of affairs and the conditions -of a permanent peace, may not be devoid of -interest; and I do not know that I could make a -better use of the present opportunity than by laying -them before you.</p> - -<p class="tb">From the time that the first suggestion to introduce -physical science into ordinary education was -timidly whispered, until now, the advocates of scientific -education have met with opposition of two kinds. -On the one hand, they have been pooh-poohed by the -men of business who pride themselves on being the -representatives of practicality; while, on the other -hand, they have been excommunicated by the classical -scholars, in their capacity of Levites in charge of the -ark of culture and monopolists of liberal education.</p> - -<p>The practical men believed that the idol whom -they worship—rule of thumb—has been the source of -the past prosperity, and will suffice for the future -welfare of the arts and manufactures. They were of -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">4</a></span>opinion that science is speculative rubbish; that -theory and practice have nothing to do with one -another; and that the scientific habit of mind is an -impediment, rather than an aid, in the conduct of -ordinary affairs.</p> - -<p>I have used the past tense in speaking of the -practical men—for although they were very formidable -thirty years ago, I am not sure that the pure -species has not been extirpated. In fact, so far as -mere argument goes, they have been subjected to -such a <em lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">feu d’enfer</em> that it is a miracle if any have -escaped. But I have remarked that your typical -practical man has an unexpected resemblance to one -of Milton’s angels. His spiritual wounds, such as are -inflicted by logical weapons, may be as deep as a well -and as wide as a church door, but beyond shedding a -few drops of ichor, celestial or otherwise, he is no -whit the worse. So, if any of these opponents be left, -I will not waste time in vain repetition of the demonstrative -evidence of the practical value of science; but -knowing that a parable will sometimes penetrate -where syllogisms fail to effect an entrance, I will offer -a story for their consideration.</p> - -<p>Once upon a time, a boy, with nothing to depend -upon but his own vigorous nature, was thrown into -the thick of the struggle for existence in the midst of -a great manufacturing population. He seems to have -had a hard fight, inasmuch as, by the time he was -thirty years of age, his total disposable funds amounted -to twenty pounds. Nevertheless, middle life found -him giving proof of his comprehension of the practical<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">5</a></span> -problems he had been roughly called upon to solve, -by a career of remarkable prosperity.</p> - -<p>Finally, having reached old age with its well-earned -surroundings of “honour, troops of friends,” -the hero of my story bethought himself of those who -were making a like start in life, and how he could -stretch out a helping hand to them.</p> - -<p>After long and anxious reflection this successful -practical man of business could devise nothing better -than to provide them with the means of obtaining -“sound, extensive, and practical scientific knowledge.” -And he devoted a large part of his wealth and five -years of incessant work to this end.</p> - -<p>I need not point the moral of a tale which, as the -solid and spacious fabric of the Scientific College -assures us, is no fable, nor can anything which I could -say intensify the force of this practical answer to -practical objections.</p> - -<p class="tb">We may take it for granted then, that, in the -opinion of those best qualified to judge, the diffusion -of thorough scientific education is an absolutely -essential condition of industrial progress; and that -the College which has been opened to-day will confer -an inestimable boon upon those whose livelihood is to -be gained by the practice of the arts and manufactures -of the district.</p> - -<p>The only question worth discussion is, whether -the conditions, under which the work of the College -is to be carried out, are such as to give it the best -possible chance of achieving permanent success.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">6</a></span></p> - -<p>Sir Josiah Mason, without doubt most wisely, has -left very large freedom of action to the trustees, to -whom he proposes ultimately to commit the administration -of the College, so that they may be able to -adjust its arrangements in accordance with the changing -conditions of the future. But, with respect to -three points, he has laid most explicit injunctions -upon both administrators and teachers.</p> - -<p>Party politics are forbidden to enter into the -minds of either, so far as the work of the College is -concerned; theology is as sternly banished from its -precincts; and finally, it is especially declared that -the College shall make no provision for “mere literary -instruction and education.”</p> - -<p>It does not concern me at present to dwell upon -the first two injunctions any longer than may be -needful to express my full conviction of their wisdom. -But the third prohibition brings us face to face with -those other opponents of scientific education, who are -by no means in the moribund condition of the practical -man, but alive, alert, and formidable.</p> - -<p>It is not impossible that we shall hear this express -exclusion of “literary instruction and education” -from a College which, nevertheless, professes to give a -high and efficient education, sharply criticised. Certainly -the time was that the Levites of culture would -have sounded their trumpets against its walls as -against an educational Jericho.</p> - -<p>How often have we not been told that the study -of physical science is incompetent to confer culture; -that it touches none of the higher problems of life;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">7</a></span> -and, what is worse, that the continual devotion to -scientific studies tends to generate a narrow and -bigoted belief in the applicability of scientific methods -to the search after truth of all kinds. How frequently -one has reason to observe that no reply to a troublesome -argument tells so well as calling its author a -“mere scientific specialist.” And, as I am afraid it -is not permissible to speak of this form of opposition -to scientific education in the past tense; may we not -expect to be told that this, not only omission, but -prohibition, of “mere literary instruction and education” -is a patent example of scientific narrow-mindedness?</p> - -<p>I am not acquainted with Sir Josiah Mason’s -reasons for the action which he has taken; but if, as -I apprehend is the case, he refers to the ordinary classical -course of our schools and universities by the -name of “mere literary instruction and education,” -I venture to offer sundry reasons of my own in support -of that action.</p> - -<p>For I hold very strongly by two convictions—The -first is, that neither the discipline nor the subject-matter -of classical education is of such direct value to -the student of physical science as to justify the expenditure -of valuable time upon either; and the second -is, that for the purpose of attaining real culture, an -exclusively scientific education is at least as effectual -as an exclusively literary education.</p> - -<p>I need hardly point out to you that these opinions, -especially the latter, are diametrically opposed to -those of the great majority of educated Englishmen,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">8</a></span> -influenced as they are by school and university traditions. -In their belief, culture is obtainable only by a -liberal education; and a liberal education is synonymous, -not merely with education and instruction in -literature, but in one particular form of literature, -namely, that of Greek and Roman antiquity. They -hold that the man who has learned Latin and Greek, -however little, is educated; while he who is versed -in other branches of knowledge, however deeply, -is a more or less respectable specialist, not admissible -into the cultured caste. The stamp of the educated -man, the University degree, is not for him.</p> - -<p>I am too well acquainted with the generous catholicity -of spirit, the true sympathy with scientific -thought, which pervades the writings of our chief -apostle of culture to identify him with these opinions; -and yet one may cull from one and another of those -epistles to the Philistines, which so much delight all -who do not answer to that name, sentences which -lend them some support.</p> - -<p>Mr. Arnold tells us that the meaning of culture is -“to know the best that has been thought and said in -the world.” It is the criticism of life contained in -literature. That criticism regards “Europe as being, -for intellectual and spiritual purposes, one great confederation, -bound to a joint action and working to a -common result; and whose members have, for their -common outfit, a knowledge of Greek, Roman, and -Eastern antiquity, and of one another. Special, local, -and temporary advantages being put out of account, -that modern nation will in the intellectual and spiritual<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">9</a></span> -sphere make most progress, which most thoroughly -carries out this programme. And what is that but -saying that we too, all of us, as individuals, the more -thoroughly we carry it out, shall make the more -progress?”<a name="FNanchor_3_3" id="FNanchor_3_3"></a><a href="#Footnote_3_3" class="fnanchor">3</a></p> - -<p>We have here to deal with two distinct propositions. -The first, that a criticism of life is the essence -of culture; the second, that literature contains the -materials which suffice for the construction of such a -criticism.</p> - -<p>I think that we must all assent to the first proposition. -For culture certainly means something quite -different from learning or technical skill. It implies -the possession of an ideal, and the habit of critically -estimating the value of things by comparison -with a theoretic standard. Perfect culture should -supply a complete theory of life, based upon a clear -knowledge alike of its possibilities and of its limitations.</p> - -<p>But we may agree to all this, and yet strongly -dissent from the assumption that literature alone is -competent to supply this knowledge. After having -learnt all that Greek, Roman, and Eastern antiquity -have thought and said, and all that modern literatures -have to tell us, it is not self-evident that we have laid -a sufficiently broad and deep foundation for that criticism -of life which constitutes culture.</p> - -<p>Indeed, to any one acquainted with the scope of -physical science, it is not at all evident. Considering -progress only in the “intellectual and spiritual sphere,” -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">10</a></span> -I find myself wholly unable to admit that either -nations or individuals will really advance, if their -common outfit draws nothing from the stores of -physical science. I should say that an army, without -weapons of precision and with no particular base of -operations, might more hopefully enter upon a campaign -on the Rhine, than a man, devoid of a knowledge -of what physical science has done in the last -century, upon a criticism of life.</p> - -<p class="tb">When a biologist meets with an anomaly, he instinctively -turns to the study of development to clear -it up. The rationale of contradictory opinions may -with equal confidence be sought in history.</p> - -<p>It is, happily, no new thing that Englishmen -should employ their wealth in building and endowing -institutions for educational purposes. But, five or -six hundred years ago, deeds of foundation expressed -or implied conditions as nearly as possible contrary -to those which have been thought expedient by Sir -Josiah Mason. That is to say, physical science was -practically ignored, while a certain literary training -was enjoined as a means to the acquirement of knowledge -which was essentially theological.</p> - -<p>The reason of this singular contradiction between -the actions of men alike animated by a strong and -disinterested desire to promote the welfare of their -fellows, is easily discovered.</p> - -<p>At that time, in fact, if any one desired knowledge -beyond such as could be obtained by his own observation, -or by common conversation, his first necessity<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">11</a></span> -was to learn the Latin language, inasmuch as all the -higher knowledge of the western world was contained -in works written in that language. Hence, Latin -grammar, with logic and rhetoric, studied through -Latin, were the fundamentals of education. With -respect to the substance of the knowledge imparted -through this channel, the Jewish and Christian Scriptures, -as interpreted and supplemented by the Romish -Church, were held to contain a complete and infallibly -true body of information.</p> - -<p>Theological dicta were, to the thinkers of those -days, that which the axioms and definitions of Euclid -are to the geometers of these. The business of the -philosophers of the middle ages was to deduce from -the data furnished by the theologians, conclusions in -accordance with ecclesiastical decrees. They were -allowed the high privilege of showing, by logical -process, how and why that which the Church said -was true, must be true. And if their demonstrations -fell short of or exceeded this limit, the Church was -maternally ready to check their aberrations, if need -be, by the help of the secular arm.</p> - -<p>Between the two, our ancestors were furnished -with a compact and complete criticism of life. They -were told how the world began and how it would -end; they learned that all material existence was -but a base and insignificant blot upon the fair face -of the spiritual world, and that nature was, to all -intents and purposes, the playground of the devil; -they learned that the earth is the centre of the visible -universe, and that man is the cynosure of things<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">12</a></span> -terrestrial; and more especially was it inculcated that -the course of nature had no fixed order, but that it -could be, and constantly was, altered by the agency -of innumerable spiritual beings, good and bad, according -as they were moved by the deeds and prayers of -men. The sum and substance of the whole doctrine -was to produce the conviction that the only thing -really worth knowing in this world was how to secure -that place in a better which, under certain conditions, -the Church promised.</p> - -<p>Our ancestors had a living belief in this theory of -life, and acted upon it in their dealings with education, -as in all other matters. Culture meant saintliness—after -the fashion of the saints of those days; -the education that led to it was, of necessity, theological; -and the way to theology lay through Latin.</p> - -<p>That the study of nature—further than was requisite -for the satisfaction of everyday wants—should -have any bearing on human life was far from the -thoughts of men thus trained. Indeed, as nature had -been cursed for man’s sake, it was an obvious conclusion -that those who meddled with nature were likely -to come into pretty close contact with Satan. And, -if any born scientific investigator followed his instincts, -he might safely reckon upon earning the reputation, -and probably upon suffering the fate, of a sorcerer.</p> - -<p>Had the western world been left to itself in -Chinese isolation, there is no saying how long this -state of things might have endured. But, happily, -it was not left to itself. Even earlier than the -thirteenth century, the development of Moorish civili<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">13</a></span>sation -in Spain and the great movement of the -Crusades had introduced the leaven which, from that -day to this, has never ceased to work. At first, -through the intermediation of Arabic translations, -afterwards, by the study of the originals, the western -nations of Europe became acquainted with the writings -of the ancient philosophers and poets, and, in -time, with the whole of the vast literature of antiquity.</p> - -<p>Whatever there was of high intellectual aspiration -or dominant capacity in Italy, France, Germany, and -England, spent itself for centuries in taking possession -of the rich inheritance left by the dead civilisations -of Greece and Rome. Marvellously aided by the -invention of printing, classical learning spread and -flourished. Those who possessed it prided themselves -on having attained the highest culture then within -the reach of mankind.</p> - -<p>And justly. For, saving Dante on his solitary -pinnacle, there was no figure in modern literature at -the time of the Renascence to compare with the men -of antiquity; there was no art to compete with their -sculpture; there was no physical science but that -which Greece had created. Above all, there was no -other example of perfect intellectual freedom—of the -unhesitating acceptance of reason as the sole guide to -truth and the supreme arbiter of conduct.</p> - -<p>The new learning necessarily soon exerted a profound -influence upon education. The language of -the monks and schoolmen seemed little better than -gibberish to scholars fresh from Virgil and Cicero, -and the study of Latin was placed upon a new<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">14</a></span> -foundation. Moreover, Latin itself ceased to afford -the sole key to knowledge. The student who sought -the highest thought of antiquity, found only a second-hand -reflection of it in Roman literature, and turned -his face to the full light of the Greeks. And after a -battle, not altogether dissimilar to that which is at -present being fought over the teaching of physical -science, the study of Greek was recognised as an -essential element of all higher education.</p> - -<p>Thus the Humanists, as they were called, won the -day; and the great reform which they effected was of -incalculable service to mankind. But the Nemesis of -all reformers is finality; and the reformers of education, -like those of religion, fell into the profound, -however common, error of mistaking the beginning -for the end of the work of reformation.</p> - -<p>The representatives of the Humanists, in the -nineteenth century, take their stand upon classical -education as the sole avenue to culture, as firmly as if -we were still in the age of Renascence. Yet, surely, -the present intellectual relations of the modern and -the ancient worlds are profoundly different from -those which obtained three centuries ago. Leaving -aside the existence of a great and characteristically -modern literature, of modern painting, and, especially, -of modern music, there is one feature of the present -state of the civilised world which separates it more -widely from the Renascence, than the Renascence was -separated from the middle ages.</p> - -<p>This distinctive character of our own times lies in -the vast and constantly increasing part which is<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">15</a></span> -played by natural knowledge. Not only is our daily -life shaped by it, not only does the prosperity of -millions of men depend upon it, but our whole theory of -life has long been influenced, consciously or unconsciously, -by the general conceptions of the universe, -which have been forced upon us by physical science.</p> - -<p>In fact, the most elementary acquaintance with -the results of scientific investigation shows us that -they offer a broad and striking contradiction to the -opinions so implicitly credited and taught in the -middle ages.</p> - -<p>The notions of the beginning and the end of the -world entertained by our forefathers are no longer -credible. It is very certain that the earth is not the -chief body in the material universe, and that the world -is not subordinated to man’s use. It is even more -certain that nature is the expression of a definite -order with which nothing interferes, and that the -chief business of mankind is to learn that order -and govern themselves accordingly. Moreover this -scientific “criticism of life” presents itself to us with -different credentials from any other. It appeals not -to authority, nor to what anybody may have thought -or said, but to nature. It admits that all our interpretations -of natural fact are more or less imperfect -and symbolic, and bids the learner seek for truth not -among words but among things. It warns us that -the assertion which outstrips evidence is not only a -blunder but a crime.</p> - -<p>The purely classical education advocated by the -representatives of the Humanists in our day, gives no<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">16</a></span> -inkling of all this. A man may be a better scholar -than Erasmus, and know no more of the chief causes -of the present intellectual fermentation than Erasmus -did. Scholarly and pious persons, worthy of all -respect, favour us with allocutions upon the sadness -of the antagonism of science to their mediæval way -of thinking, which betray an ignorance of the first -principles of scientific investigation, an incapacity for -understanding what a man of science means by -veracity, and an unconsciousness of the weight of -established scientific truths, which is almost comical.</p> - -<p>There is no great force in the <em lang="la" xml:lang="la">tu quoque</em> argument, -or else the advocates of scientific education might -fairly enough retort upon the modern Humanists that -they may be learned specialists, but that they possess -no such sound foundation for a criticism of life as -deserves the name of culture. And, indeed, if we -were disposed to be cruel, we might urge that the -Humanists have brought this reproach upon themselves, -not because they are too full of the spirit of -the ancient Greek, but because they lack it.</p> - -<p>The period of the Renascence is commonly called -that of the “Revival of Letters,” as if the influences -then brought to bear upon the mind of Western Europe -had been wholly exhausted in the field of literature. -I think it is very commonly forgotten that the revival -of science, effected by the same agency, although less -conspicuous, was not less momentous.</p> - -<p>In fact, the few and scattered students of nature -of that day picked up the clue to her secrets exactly -as it fell from the hands of the Greeks a thousand<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">17</a></span> -years before. The foundations of mathematics were -so well laid by them, that our children learn their -geometry from a book written for the schools of Alexandria -two thousand years ago. Modern astronomy -is the natural continuation and development of the -work of Hipparchus and of Ptolemy; modern physics -of that of Democritus and of Archimedes; it was long -before modern biological science outgrew the knowledge -bequeathed to us by Aristotle, by Theophrastus, -and by Galen.</p> - -<p>We cannot know all the best thoughts and sayings -of the Greeks unless we know what they thought -about natural phenomena. We cannot fully apprehend -their criticism of life unless we understand the -extent to which that criticism was affected by -scientific conceptions. We falsely pretend to be the -inheritors of their culture, unless we are penetrated, -as the best minds among them were, with an unhesitating -faith that the free employment of reason, in -accordance with scientific method, is the sole method -of reaching truth.</p> - -<p>Thus I venture to think that the pretensions of -our modern Humanists to the possession of the -monopoly of culture and to the exclusive inheritance -of the spirit of antiquity must be abated, if not -abandoned. But I should be very sorry that anything -I have said should be taken to imply a desire -on my part to depreciate the value of classical education, -as it might be and as it sometimes is. The -native capacities of mankind vary no less than their -opportunities; and while culture is one, the road by<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">18</a></span> -which one man may best reach it is widely different -from that which is most advantageous to another. -Again, while scientific education is yet inchoate -and tentative, classical education is thoroughly well -organised upon the practical experience of generations -of teachers. So that, given ample time for learning -and destination for ordinary life, or for a literary -career, I do not think that a young Englishman in -search of culture can do better than follow the course -usually marked out for him, supplementing its deficiencies -by his own efforts.</p> - -<p>But for those who mean to make science their -serious occupation; or who intend to follow the -profession of medicine; or who have to enter early -upon the business of life; for all these, in my opinion, -classical education is a mistake; and it is for this -reason that I am glad to see “mere literary education -and instruction” shut out from the curriculum of Sir -Josiah Mason’s College, seeing that its inclusion would -probably lead to the introduction of the ordinary -smattering of Latin and Greek.</p> - -<p>Nevertheless, I am the last person to question the -importance of genuine literary education, or to suppose -that intellectual culture can be complete without -it. An exclusively scientific training will bring about -a mental twist as surely as an exclusively literary -training. The value of the cargo does not compensate -for a ship’s being out of trim; and I should -be very sorry to think that the Scientific College -would turn out none but lop-sided men.</p> - -<p>There is no need, however, that such a catastrophe<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">19</a></span> -should happen. Instruction in English, French, and -German is provided, and thus the three greatest literatures -of the modern world are made accessible to the -student.</p> - -<p>French and German, and especially the latter language, -are absolutely indispensable to those who desire -full knowledge in any department of science. But -even supposing that the knowledge of these languages -acquired is not more than sufficient for purely scientific -purposes, every Englishman has, in his native -tongue, an almost perfect instrument of literary expression; -and, in his own literature, models of every -kind of literary excellence. If an Englishman cannot -get literary culture out of his Bible, his Shakspeare, -his Milton, neither, in my belief, will the profoundest -study of Homer and Sophocles, Virgil and Horace, -give it to him.</p> - -<p>Thus, since the constitution of the College makes -sufficient provision for literary as well as for scientific -education, and since artistic instruction is also contemplated, -it seems to me that a fairly complete culture is -offered to all who are willing to take advantage of it.</p> - -<p class="tb">But I am not sure that at this point the “practical” -man, scotched but not slain, may ask what all -this talk about culture has to do with an Institution, -the object of which is defined to be “to promote the -prosperity of the manufactures and the industry of -the country.” He may suggest that what is wanted -for this end is not culture, nor even a purely scientific -discipline, but simply a knowledge of applied science.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">20</a></span></p> - -<p>I often wish that this phrase, “applied science,” -had never been invented. For it suggests that there -is a sort of scientific knowledge of direct practical -use, which can be studied apart from another sort of -scientific knowledge, which is of no practical utility, -and which is termed “pure science.” But there is -no more complete fallacy than this. What people -call applied science is nothing but the application of -pure science to particular classes of problems. It -consists of deductions from those general principles, -established by reasoning and observation, which constitute -pure science. No one can safely make these -deductions until he has a firm grasp of the principles; -and he can obtain that grasp only by personal experience -of the operations of observation and of reasoning -on which they are founded.</p> - -<p>Almost all the processes employed in the arts and -manufactures fall within the range either of physics -or of chemistry. In order to improve them, one -must thoroughly understand them; and no one has a -chance of really understanding them, unless he has -obtained that mastery of principles and that habit of -dealing with facts, which is given by long-continued -and well-directed purely scientific training in the -physical and the chemical laboratory. So that there -really is no question as to the necessity of purely -scientific discipline, even if the work of the College -were limited by the narrowest interpretation of its -stated aims.</p> - -<p>And, as to the desirableness of a wider culture -than that yielded by science alone, it is to be recol<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">21</a></span>lected -that the improvement of manufacturing processes -is only one of the conditions which contribute -to the prosperity of industry. Industry is a means -and not an end; and mankind work only to get -something which they want. What that something -is depends partly on their innate, and partly on their -acquired, desires.</p> - -<p>If the wealth resulting from prosperous industry -is to be spent upon the gratification of unworthy -desires, if the increasing perfection of manufacturing -processes is to be accompanied by an increasing -debasement of those who carry them on, I do not -see the good of industry and prosperity.</p> - -<p>Now it is perfectly true that men’s views of what -is desirable depend upon their characters; and that -the innate proclivities to which we give that name -are not touched by any amount of instruction. But -it does not follow that even mere intellectual education -may not, to an indefinite extent, modify the -practical manifestation of the characters of men in -their actions, by supplying them with motives unknown -to the ignorant. A pleasure-loving character -will have pleasure of some sort; but, if you give him -the choice, he may prefer pleasures which do not -degrade him to those which do. And this choice is -offered to every man, who possesses in literary or -artistic culture a never-failing source of pleasures, -which are neither withered by age, nor staled by -custom, nor embittered in the recollection by the -pangs of self-reproach.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">22</a></span></p> - -<p>If the Institution opened to-day fulfils the intention -of its founder, the picked intelligences among -all classes of the population of this district will pass -through it. No child born in Birmingham, henceforward, -if he have the capacity to profit by the -opportunities offered to him, first in the primary and -other schools, and afterwards in the Scientific College, -need fail to obtain, not merely the instruction, but -the culture most appropriate to the conditions of -his life.</p> - -<p>Within these walls, the future employer and the -future artisan may sojourn together for a while, and -carry, through all their lives, the stamp of the influences -then brought to bear upon them. Hence, it -is not beside the mark to remind you, that the -prosperity of industry depends not merely upon the -improvement of manufacturing processes, not merely -upon the ennobling of the individual character, but -upon a third condition, namely, a clear understanding -of the conditions of social life on the part of both the -capitalist and the operative, and their agreement -upon common principles of social action. They must -learn that social phenomena are as much the expression -of natural laws as any others; that no social -arrangements can be permanent unless they harmonise -with the requirements of social statics and -dynamics; and that, in the nature of things, there is -an arbiter whose decisions execute themselves.</p> - -<p>But this knowledge is only to be obtained by the -application of the methods of investigation adopted -in physical researches to the investigation of the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">23</a></span> -phenomena of society. Hence, I confess, I should -like to see one addition made to the excellent scheme -of education propounded for the College, in the shape -of provision for the teaching of Sociology. For -though we are all agreed that party politics are to -have no place in the instruction of the College; yet -in this country, practically governed as it is now by -universal suffrage, every man who does his duty must -exercise political functions. And, if the evils which -are inseparable from the good of political liberty are -to be checked, if the perpetual oscillation of nations -between anarchy and despotism is to be replaced by -the steady march of self-restraining freedom; it will -be because men will gradually bring themselves to -deal with political, as they now deal with scientific -questions; to be as ashamed of undue haste and -partisan prejudice in the one case as in the other; -and to believe that the machinery of society is at -least as delicate as that of a spinning-jenny, and as -little likely to be improved by the meddling of those -who have not taken the trouble to master the -principles of its action.</p> - -<p class="tb">In conclusion, I am sure that I make myself the -mouthpiece of all present in offering to the venerable -founder of the Institution, which now commences its -beneficent career, our congratulations on the completion -of his work; and in expressing the conviction, -that the remotest posterity will point to it as a -crucial instance of the wisdom which natural piety -leads all men to ascribe to their ancestors.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">24</a></span></p> - -<h2>II.<br /><br /> - -UNIVERSITIES: ACTUAL AND IDEAL.</h2> - -<p><span class="smcap">Elected</span> by the suffrages of your four Nations, Rector -of the ancient University of which you are scholars, I -take the earliest opportunity which has presented -itself since my restoration to health, of delivering the -Address which, by long custom, is expected of the -holder of my office.</p> - -<p>My first duty in opening that Address, is to offer -you my most hearty thanks for the signal honour you -have conferred upon me—an honour of which, as a -man unconnected with you by personal or by national -ties, devoid of political distinction, and a plebeian -who stands by his order, I could not have dreamed. -And it was the more surprising to me, as the five-and-twenty -years which have passed over my head since I -reached intellectual manhood, have been largely spent -in no half-hearted advocacy of doctrines which have -not yet found favour in the eyes of Academic respectability; -so that, when the proposal to nominate me for -your Rector came, I was almost as much astonished as -was Hal o’ the Wynd, “who fought for his own -hand,” by the Black Douglas’s proffer of knighthood. -And I fear that my acceptance must be taken as evi<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">25</a></span>dence -that, less wise than the Armourer of Perth, I -have not yet done with soldiering.</p> - -<p>In fact, if, for a moment, I imagined that your -intention was simply, in the kindness of your hearts, -to do me honour; and that the Rector of your University, -like that of some other Universities, was one -of those happy beings who sit in glory for three years, -with nothing to do for it save the making of a speech, -a conversation with my distinguished predecessor soon -dispelled the dream. I found that, by the constitution -of the University of Aberdeen, the incumbent of -the Rectorate is, if not a power, at any rate a potential -energy; and that, whatever may be his chances of -success or failure, it is his duty to convert that -potential energy into a living force, directed towards -such ends as may seem to him conducive to the welfare -of the corporation of which he is the theoretical -head.</p> - -<p>I need not tell you that your late Lord Rector -took this view of his position, and acted upon it with -the comprehensive, far-seeing insight into the actual -condition and tendencies, not merely of his own, but -of other countries, which is his honourable characteristic -among statesmen. I have already done my best, -and, as long as I hold my office, I shall continue my -endeavours, to follow in the path which he trod; to do -what in me lies, to bring this University nearer to the -ideal—alas, that I should be obliged to say ideal—of -all Universities; which, as I conceive, should be places -in which thought is free from all fetters; and in which -all sources of knowledge, and all aids to learning,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">26</a></span> -should be accessible to all comers, without distinction -of creed or country, riches or poverty.</p> - -<p>Do not suppose, however, that I am sanguine -enough to expect much to come of any poor efforts of -mine. If your annals take any notice of my incumbency, -I shall probably go down to posterity as the -Rector who was always beaten. But if they add, as I -think they will, that my defeats became victories in -the hands of my successors, I shall be well content.</p> - -<p class="tb">The scenes are shifting in the great theatre of the -world. The act which commenced with the Protestant -Reformation is nearly played out, and a wider and a -deeper change than that effected three centuries ago—a -reformation, or rather a revolution of thought, the -extremes of which are represented by the intellectual -heirs of John of Leyden and of Ignatius Loyola, rather -than by those of Luther and of Leo—is waiting to -come on, nay, visible behind the scenes to those who -have good eyes. Men are beginning, once more, to -awake to the fact that matters of belief and of speculation -are of absolutely infinite practical importance; -and are drawing off from that sunny country “where -it is always afternoon”—the sleepy hollow of broad -indifferentism—to range themselves under their -natural banners. Change is in the air. It is whirling -feather-heads into all sorts of eccentric orbits, and -filling the steadiest with a sense of insecurity. It -insists on reopening all questions and asking all institutions, -however venerable, by what right they exist, -and whether they are, or are not, in harmony with the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">27</a></span> -real or supposed wants of mankind. And it is -remarkable that these searching inquiries are not so -much forced on institutions from without, as developed -from within. Consummate scholars question the -value of learning; priests condemn dogma; and -women turn their backs upon man’s ideal of perfect -womanhood, and seek satisfaction in apocalyptic -visions of some, as yet unrealised, epicene reality.</p> - -<p>If there be a type of stability in this world, one -would be inclined to look for it in the old Universities -of England. But it has been my business of late to -hear a good deal about what is going on in these -famous corporations; and I have been filled with -astonishment by the evidences of internal fermentation -which they exhibit. If Gibbon could revisit the -ancient seat of learning of which he has written so -cavalierly, assuredly he would no longer speak of “the -monks of Oxford sunk in prejudice and port.” There, -as elsewhere, port has gone out of fashion, and so has -prejudice—at least that particular fine, old, crusted -sort of prejudice to which the great historian alludes.</p> - -<p>Indeed, things are moving so fast in Oxford and -Cambridge, that, for my part, I rejoiced when the -Royal Commission, of which I am a member, had -finished and presented the Report which related to -these Universities; for we should have looked like -mere plagiarists, if, in consequence of a little longer -delay in issuing it, all the measures of reform we proposed -had been anticipated by the spontaneous action -of the Universities themselves.</p> - -<p>A month ago I should have gone on to say that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">28</a></span> -one might speedily expect changes of another kind in -Oxford and Cambridge. A Commission has been -inquiring into the revenues of the many wealthy -societies, in more or less direct connection with the -Universities, resident in those towns. It is said that -the Commission has reported, and that, for the first -time in recorded history, the nation, and perhaps the -Colleges themselves, will know what they are worth. -And it was announced that a statesman, who, whatever -his other merits or defects, has aims above the -level of mere party fighting, and a clear vision into -the most complex practical problems, meant to deal -with these revenues.</p> - -<p>But, <em lang="la" xml:lang="la">Bos locutus est.</em> That mysterious independent -variable of political calculation, Public Opinion—which -some whisper is, in the present case, very much the -same thing as publican’s opinion—has willed otherwise. -The Heads may return to their wonted slumbers—at -any rate for a space.</p> - -<p>Is the spirit of change, which is working thus -vigorously in the South, likely to affect the Northern -Universities, and if so, to what extent? The violence -of fermentation depends, not so much on the quantity -of the yeast, as on the composition of the wort, and -its richness in fermentable material; and, as a preliminary -to the discussion of this question, I venture to -call to your minds the essential and fundamental differences -between the Scottish and the English type of -University.</p> - -<p>Do not charge me with anything worse than official -egotism, if I say that these differences appear to be<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">29</a></span> -largely symbolised by my own existence. There is -no Rector in an English University. Now, the organisation -of the members of an University into Nations, -with their elective Rector, is the last relic of the -primitive constitution of Universities. The Rectorate -was the most important of all offices in that University -of Paris, upon the model of which the University of -Aberdeen was fashioned; and which was certainly a -great and flourishing institution in the twelfth century.</p> - -<p>Enthusiasts for the antiquity of one of the two -acknowledged parents of all Universities, indeed, do -not hesitate to trace the origin of the “Studium -Parisiense” up to that wonderful king of the Franks -and Lombards, Karl, surnamed the Great, whom we -all called Charlemagne, and believed to be a Frenchman, -until a learned historian, by beneficent iteration, -taught us better. Karl is said not to have been much -of a scholar himself, but he had the wisdom of which -knowledge is only the servitor. And that wisdom -enabled him to see that ignorance is one of the roots -of all evil.</p> - -<p>In the Capitulary which enjoins the foundation of -monasterial and cathedral schools, he says: “Right -action is better than knowledge; but in order to do -what is right, we must know what is right.”<a name="FNanchor_4_4" id="FNanchor_4_4"></a><a href="#Footnote_4_4" class="fnanchor">4</a> An -irrefragable truth, I fancy. Acting upon it, the king -took pretty full compulsory powers, and carried into -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">30</a></span>effect a really considerable and effectual scheme of -elementary education through the length and breadth -of his dominions.</p> - -<p>No doubt the idolaters out by the Elbe, in what is -now part of Prussia, objected to the Frankish king’s -measures; no doubt the priests, who had never hesitated -about sacrificing all unbelievers in their fantastic -deities and futile conjurations, were the loudest in -chanting the virtues of toleration; no doubt they denounced -as a cruel persecutor the man who would not -allow them, however sincere they might be, to go on -spreading delusions which debased the intellect, as -much as they deadened the moral sense, and undermined -the bonds of civil allegiance; no doubt, if they -had lived in these times, they would have been able -to show, with ease, that the king’s proceedings were -totally contrary to the best liberal principles. But it -may be said, in justification of the Teutonic ruler, -first, that he was born before those principles, and -did not suspect that the best way of getting disorder -into order was to let it alone; and, secondly, that his -rough and questionable proceedings did, more or less, -bring about the end he had in view. For, in a couple -of centuries, the schools he sowed broadcast produced -their crop of men, thirsting for knowledge and craving -for culture. Such men gravitating towards Paris, as -a light amidst the darkness of evil days, from Germany, -from Spain, from Britain, and from Scandinavia, -came together by natural affinity. By degrees they -banded themselves into a society, which, as its end -was the knowledge of all things knowable, called itself<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">31</a></span> -a “<em lang="la" xml:lang="la">Studium Generale</em>;” and when it had grown into -a recognised corporation, acquired the name of “<em lang="la" xml:lang="la">Universitas -Studii Generalis</em>,” which, mark you, means -not a “Useful Knowledge Society,” but a “Knowledge-of-things-in-general -Society.”</p> - -<p>And thus the first “University,” at any rate on -this side of the Alps, came into being. Originally it -had but one Faculty, that of Arts. Its aim was to -be a centre of knowledge and culture; not to be, in -any sense, a technical school.</p> - -<p>The scholars seem to have studied Grammar, Logic, -and Rhetoric; Arithmetic and Geometry; Astronomy; -Theology; and Music. Thus, their work, however -imperfect and faulty, judged by modern lights, it may -have been, brought them face to face with all the -leading aspects of the many-sided mind of man. -For these studies did really contain, at any rate in -embryo—sometimes, it may be, in caricature—what -we now call Philosophy, Mathematical and Physical -Science, and Art. And I doubt if the curriculum of -any modern University shows so clear and generous a -comprehension of what is meant by culture, as this -old Trivium and Quadrivium does.</p> - -<p>The students who had passed through the University -course, and had proved themselves competent to -teach, became masters and teachers of their younger -brethren. Whence the distinction of Masters and -Regents on the one hand, and Scholars on the other.</p> - -<p>Rapid growth necessitated organisation. The -Masters and Scholars of various tongues and countries -grouped themselves into four Nations; and the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">32</a></span> -Nations, by their own votes at first, and subsequently -by those of their Procurators, or representatives, -elected their supreme head and governor, the Rector—at -that time the sole representative of the University, -and a very real power, who could defy Provosts -interfering from without; or could inflict even corporal -punishment on disobedient members within the -University.</p> - -<p>Such was the primitive constitution of the University -of Paris. It is in reference to this original -state of things that I have spoken of the Rectorate, -and all that appertains to it, as the sole relic of that -constitution.</p> - -<p>But this original organisation did not last long. -Society was not then, any more than it is now, -patient of culture, as such. It says to everything, -“Be useful to me, or away with you.” And to the -learned, the unlearned man said then, as he does now, -“What is the use of all your learning, unless you can -tell me what I want to know? I am here blindly -groping about, and constantly damaging myself by -collision with three mighty powers, the power of the -invisible God, the power of my fellow Man, and the -power of brute Nature. Let your learning be turned -to the study of these powers, that I may know how I -am to comport myself with regard to them.” In -answer to this demand, some of the Masters of the -Faculty of Arts devoted themselves to the study of -Theology, some to that of Law, and some to that of -Medicine; and they became Doctors—men learned in -those technical, or, as we now call them, professional,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">33</a></span> -branches of knowledge. Like cleaving to like, the -Doctors formed schools, or Faculties, of Theology, -Law, and Medicine, which sometimes assumed airs -of superiority over their parent, the Faculty of Arts, -though the latter always asserted and maintained its -fundamental supremacy.</p> - -<p>The Faculties arose by process of natural differentiation -out of the primitive University. Other constituents, -foreign to its nature, were speedily grafted -upon it. One of these extraneous elements was forced -into it by the Roman Church, which in those days -asserted with effect, that which it now asserts, happily -without any effect in these realms, its right of censorship -and control over all teaching. The local -habitation of the University lay partly in the lands -attached to the monastery of S. Geneviève, partly in -the diocese of the Bishop of Paris; and he who would -teach must have the licence of the Abbot, or of the -Bishop, as the nearest representative of the Pope, so -to do, which licence was granted by the Chancellors -of these Ecclesiastics.</p> - -<p>Thus, if I am what archæologists call a “survival” -of the primitive head and ruler of the University, your -Chancellor stands in the same relation to the Papacy; -and, with all respect for his Grace, I think I may -say that we both look terribly shrunken when compared -with our great originals.</p> - -<p>Not so is it with a second foreign element, which -silently dropped into the soil of Universities, like the -grain of mustard-seed in the parable; and, like that -grain, grew into a tree, in whose branches a whole<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">34</a></span> -aviary of fowls took shelter. That element is the -element of Endowment. It differed from the preceding, -in its original design to serve as a prop to the -young plant, not to be a parasite upon it. The -charitable and the humane, blessed with wealth, were -very early penetrated by the misery of the poor -student. And the wise saw that intellectual ability -is not so common or so unimportant a gift that it -should be allowed to run to waste upon mere handicrafts -and chares. The man who was a blessing to -his contemporaries, but who so often has been converted -into a curse, by the blind adherence of his -posterity to the letter, rather than to the spirit, of -his wishes—I mean the “pious founder”—gave -money and lands, that the student, who was rich in -brain and poor in all else, might be taken from the -plough or from the stithy, and enabled to devote -himself to the higher service of mankind; and built -colleges and halls in which he might be not only -housed and fed, but taught.</p> - -<p>The Colleges were very generally placed in strict -subordination to the University by their founders; -but, in many cases, their endowment, consisting of -land, has undergone an “unearned increment,” which -has given these societies a continually increasing -weight and importance as against the unendowed, or -fixedly endowed, University. In Pharaoh’s dream, -the seven lean kine eat up the seven fat ones. In -the reality of historical fact, the fat Colleges have -eaten up the lean Universities.</p> - -<p>Even here in Aberdeen, though the causes at work<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">35</a></span> -may have been somewhat different, the effects have -been similar; and you see how much more substantial -an entity is the Very Reverend the Principal, analogue, -if not homologue, of the Principals of King’s College, -than the Rector, lineal representative of the ancient -monarchs of the University, though now, little more -than a “king of shreds and patches.”</p> - -<p>Do not suppose that, in thus briefly tracing the -process of University metamorphosis, I have had any -intention of quarrelling with its results. Practically, -it seems to me that the broad changes effected in 1858 -have given the Scottish Universities a very liberal -constitution, with as much real approximation to the -primitive state of things as is at all desirable. If -your fat kine have eaten the lean, they have not lain -down to chew the cud ever since. The Scottish Universities, -like the English, have diverged widely enough -from their primitive model; but I cannot help thinking -that the northern form has remained more faithful -to its original, not only in constitution, but, what is -more to the purpose, in view of the cry for change, -in the practical application of the endowments connected -with it.</p> - -<p>In Aberdeen, these endowments are numerous, but -so small that, taken altogether, they are not equal to -the revenue of a single third-rate English college. -They are scholarships, not fellowships; aids to do -work—not rewards for such work as it lies within the -reach of an ordinary, or even an extraordinary, young -man to do. You do not think that passing a respectable -examination is a fair equivalent for an income,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">36</a></span> -such as many a gray-headed veteran, or clergyman, -would envy; and which is larger than the endowment -of many Regius chairs. You do not care to make -your University a school of manners for the rich; of -sports for the athletic; or a hot-bed of high-fed, -hypercritical refinement, more destructive to vigour -and originality than are starvation and oppression. -No; your little Bursaries of ten and twenty (I believe -even fifty) pounds a year, enable any boy who has -shown ability in the course of his education in those -remarkable primary schools, which have made Scotland -the power she is, to obtain the highest culture the -country can give him; and when he is armed and -equipped, his Spartan Alma Mater tells him that, so -far, he has had his wages for his work, and that he -may go and earn the rest.</p> - -<p>When I think of the host of pleasant, monied, well-bred -young gentlemen, who do a little learning and much -boating by Cam and Isis, the vision is a pleasant one; -and, as a patriot, I rejoice that the youth of the upper -and richer classes of the nation receive a wholesome and -a manly training, however small may be the modicum -of knowledge they gather, in the intervals of this, their -serious business. I admit, to the full, the social and -political value of that training. But, when I proceed -to consider that these young men may be said to -represent the great bulk of what the Colleges have to -show for their enormous wealth, plus, at least, a -hundred and fifty pounds a year apiece which each -undergraduate costs his parents or guardians, I feel -inclined to ask, whether the rate-in-aid of the educa<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">37</a></span>tion -of the wealthy and professional classes, thus levied -on the resources of the community, is not, after all, a -little heavy? And, still further, I am tempted to -inquire what has become of the indigent scholars, the -sons of the masses of the people whose daily labour -just suffices to meet their daily wants, for whose -benefit these rich foundations were largely, if not -mainly, instituted? It seems as if Pharaoh’s dream -had been rigorously carried out, and that even the fat -scholar has eaten the lean one. And when I turn -from this picture to the no less real vision of many a -brave and frugal Scotch boy, spending his summer in -hard manual labour, that he may have the privilege -of wending his way in autumn to this University, with -a bag of oatmeal, ten pounds in his pocket, and his -own stout heart to depend upon through the northern -winter; not bent on seeking</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="line">“The bubble reputation at the cannon’s mouth,”</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p>but determined to wring knowledge from the hard -hands of penury; when I see him win through all such -outward obstacles to positions of wide usefulness and -well-earned fame; I cannot but think that, in essence, -Aberdeen has departed but little from the primitive -intention of the founders of Universities, and that the -spirit of reform has so much to do on the other side -of the Border, that it may be long before he has leisure -to look this way.</p> - -<p>As compared with other actual Universities, then, -Aberdeen, may, perhaps, be well satisfied with itself. -But do not think me an impracticable dreamer, if I<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">38</a></span> -ask you not to rest and be thankful in this state of -satisfaction; if I ask you to consider awhile, how this -actual good stands related to that ideal better, towards -which both men and institutions must progress, if they -would not retrograde.</p> - -<p>In an ideal University, as I conceive it, a man -should be able to obtain instruction in all forms of -knowledge, and discipline in the use of all the methods -by which knowledge is obtained. In such an University, -the force of living example should fire the student -with a noble ambition to emulate the learning of -learned men, and to follow in the footsteps of the explorers -of new fields of knowledge. And the very air -he breathes should be charged with that enthusiasm -for truth, that fanaticism of veracity, which is a greater -possession than much learning; a nobler gift than the -power of increasing knowledge; by so much greater -and nobler than these, as the moral nature of man is -greater than the intellectual; for veracity is the heart -of morality.</p> - -<p>But the man who is all morality and intellect, -although he may be good and even great, is, after all, -only half a man. There is beauty in the moral world -and in the intellectual world; but there is also a -beauty which is neither moral nor intellectual—the -beauty of the world of Art. There are men who are -devoid of the power of seeing it, as there are men who -are born deaf and blind, and the loss of those, as of -these, is simply infinite. There are others in whom it is -an overpowering passion; happy men, born with the -productive, or at lowest, the appreciative, genius of the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">39</a></span> -Artist. But, in the mass of mankind, the Æsthetic -faculty, like the reasoning power and the moral sense, -needs to be roused, directed, and cultivated; and I -know not why the development of that side of his -nature, through which man has access to a perennial -spring of ennobling pleasure, should be omitted from -any comprehensive scheme of University education.</p> - -<p>All Universities recognise Literature in the sense -of the old Rhetoric, which is art incarnate in words. -Some, to their credit, recognise Art in its narrower -sense, to a certain extent, and confer degrees for proficiency -in some of its branches. If there are Doctors -of Music, why should there be no Masters of Painting, -of Sculpture, of Architecture? I should like to see -Professors of the Fine Arts in every University; and -instruction in some branch of their work made a part -of the Arts curriculum.</p> - -<p>I just now expressed the opinion that, in our ideal -University, a man should be able to obtain instruction -in all forms of knowledge. Now, by “forms of knowledge” -I mean the great classes of things knowable; -of which the first, in logical, though not in natural, -order is knowledge relating to the scope and limits of -the mental faculties of man; a form of knowledge -which, in its positive aspect, answers pretty much to -Logic and part of Psychology, while, on its negative -and critical side, it corresponds with Metaphysics.</p> - -<p>A second class comprehends all that knowledge -which relates to man’s welfare, so far as it is determined -by his own acts, or what we call his conduct. -It answers to Moral and Religious philosophy. Prac<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">40</a></span>tically, -it is the most directly valuable of all forms of -knowledge, but speculatively, it is limited and criticised -by that which precedes and by that which -follows it in my order of enumeration.</p> - -<p>A third class embraces knowledge of the phenomena -of the Universe, as that which lies about the -individual man: and of the rules which those phenomena -are observed to follow in the order of their -occurrence, which we term the laws of Nature.</p> - -<p>This is what ought to be called Natural Science, -or Physiology, though those terms are hopelessly -diverted from such a meaning; and it includes all -exact knowledge of natural fact, whether Mathematical, -Physical, Biological, or Social.</p> - -<p>Kant has said that the ultimate object of all -knowledge is to give replies to these three questions: -What can I do? What ought I to do? What may -I hope for? The forms of knowledge which I have -enumerated, should furnish such replies as are within -human reach, to the first and second of these questions. -While to the third, perhaps the wisest answer is, -“Do what you can to do what you ought, and leave -hoping and fearing alone.”</p> - -<p>If this be a just and an exhaustive classification -of the forms of knowledge, no question as to their -relative importance, or as to the superiority of one to -the other, can be seriously raised.</p> - -<p>On the face of the matter, it is absurd to ask -whether it is more important to know the limits of -one’s powers; or the ends for which they ought to be -exerted; or the conditions under which they must be<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">41</a></span> -exerted. One may as well inquire which of the terms -of a Rule of Three sum one ought to know, in order to -get a trustworthy result. Practical life is such a sum, -in which your duty multiplied into your capacity, and -divided by your circumstances, gives you the fourth -term in the proportion, which is your deserts, with -great accuracy. All agree, I take it, that men ought -to have these three kinds of knowledge. The so-called -“conflict of studies” turns upon the question of -how they may best be obtained.</p> - -<p>The founders of Universities held the theory that -the Scriptures and Aristotle taken together, the latter -being limited by the former, contained all knowledge -worth having, and that the business of philosophy was -to interpret and co-ordinate these two. I imagine -that in the twelfth century this was a very fair conclusion -from known facts. Nowhere in the world, in -those days, was there such an encyclopædia of knowledge -of all three classes, as is to be found in those -writings. The scholastic philosophy is a wonderful -monument of the patience and ingenuity with which -the human mind toiled to build up a logically consistent -theory of the Universe, out of such materials. -And that philosophy is by no means dead and buried, -as many vainly suppose. On the contrary, numbers -of men of no mean learning and accomplishment, and -sometimes of rare power and subtlety of thought, -hold by it as the best theory of things which has yet -been stated. And, what is still more remarkable, -men who speak the language of modern philosophy, -nevertheless think the thoughts of the schoolmen.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">42</a></span> -“The voice is the voice of Jacob, but the hands are -the hands of Esau.” Every day I hear “Cause,” -“Law,” “Force,” “Vitality,” spoken of as entities, -by people who can enjoy Swift’s joke about the -meat-roasting quality of the smoke-jack, and comfort -themselves with the reflection that they are not even -as those benighted schoolmen.</p> - -<p>Well, this great system had its day, and then it -was sapped and mined by two influences. The first -was the study of classical literature, which familiarised -men with methods of philosophising; with conceptions -of the highest Good; with ideas of the order -of Nature; with notions of Literary and Historical -Criticism; and, above all, with visions of Art, of a -kind which not only would not fit into the scholastic -scheme, but showed them a pre-Christian, and indeed -altogether un-Christian world, of such grandeur and -beauty that they ceased to think of any other. They -were as men who had kissed the Fairy Queen, and -wandering with her in the dim loveliness of the underworld, -cared not to return to the familiar ways of -home and fatherland, though they lay, at arm’s length, -overhead. Cardinals were more familiar with Virgil -than with Isaiah; and Popes laboured, with great -success, to re-paganise Rome.</p> - -<p>The second influence was the slow, but sure, -growth of the physical sciences. It was discovered -that some results of speculative thought, of immense -practical and theoretical importance, can be verified -by observation; and are always true, however severely -they may be tested. Here, at any rate, was know<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">43</a></span>ledge, -to the certainty of which no authority could -add, or take away, one jot or tittle, and to which the -tradition of a thousand years was as insignificant as -the hearsay of yesterday. To the scholastic system, -the study of classical literature might be inconvenient -and distracting, but it was possible to hope that it -could be kept within bounds. Physical science, on -the other hand, was an irreconcilable enemy, to be -excluded at all hazards. The College of Cardinals -has not distinguished itself in Physics or Physiology; -and no Pope has, as yet, set up public laboratories in -the Vatican.</p> - -<p>People do not always formulate the beliefs on -which they act. The instinct of fear and dislike is -quicker than the reasoning process; and I suspect -that, taken in conjunction with some other causes, -such instinctive aversion is at the bottom of the long -exclusion of any serious discipline in the physical -sciences from the general curriculum of Universities; -while, on the other hand, classical literature has been -gradually made the backbone of the Arts course.</p> - -<p>I am ashamed to repeat here what I have said -elsewhere, in season and out of season, respecting the -value of Science as knowledge and discipline. But -the other day I met with some passages in the -Address to another Scottish University, of a great -thinker, recently lost to us, which express so fully, -and yet so tersely, the truth in this matter, that I am -fain to quote them:—</p> - -<p>“To question all things;—never to turn away -from any difficulty; to accept no doctrine either from<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">44</a></span> -ourselves or from other people without a rigid scrutiny -by negative criticism; letting no fallacy, or incoherence, -or confusion of thought step by unperceived; -above all, to insist upon having the meaning of a -word clearly understood before using it, and the -meaning of a proposition before assenting to it;—these -are the lessons we learn” from workers in -Science. “With all this vigorous management of -the negative element, they inspire no scepticism about -the reality of truth or indifference to its pursuit. The -noblest enthusiasm, both for the search after truth and -for applying it to its highest uses, pervades those -writers.” “In cultivating, therefore,” science as an -essential ingredient in education, “we are all the -while laying an admirable foundation for ethical and -philosophical culture.”<a name="FNanchor_5_5" id="FNanchor_5_5"></a><a href="#Footnote_5_5" class="fnanchor">5</a></p> - -<p>The passages I have quoted were uttered by John -Stuart Mill; but you cannot hear inverted commas, -and it is therefore right that I should add, without -delay, that I have taken the liberty of substituting -“workers in science” for “ancient dialecticians,” and -“Science as an essential ingredient in education” for -“the ancient languages as our best literary education.” -Mill did, in fact, deliver a noble panegyric upon -classical studies. I do not doubt its justice, nor -presume to question its wisdom. But I venture to -maintain that no wise or just judge, who has a knowledge -of the facts, will hesitate to say that it applies -with equal force to scientific training.</p> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">45</a></span></p> -<p>But it is only fair to the Scottish Universities to -point out that they have long understood the value -of Science as a branch of general education. I observe, -with the greatest satisfaction, that candidates for the -degree of Master of Arts in this University are required -to have a knowledge, not only of Mental and -Moral Philosophy, and of Mathematics and Natural -Philosophy, but of Natural History, in addition to -the ordinary Latin and Greek course; and that a -candidate may take honours in these subjects and in -Chemistry.</p> - -<p>I do not know what the requirements of your -examiners may be, but I sincerely trust they are not -satisfied with a mere book knowledge of these matters. -For my own part, I would not raise a finger, if I -could thereby introduce mere book work in science -into every Arts curriculum in the country. Let those -who want to study books devote themselves to Literature, -in which we have the perfection of books, both -as to substance and as to form. If I may paraphrase -Hobbes’s well-known aphorism, I would say that -“books are the money of Literature, but only the -counters of Science,” Science (in the sense in which I -now use the term) being the knowledge of fact, of -which every verbal description is but an incomplete -and symbolic expression. And be assured that no -teaching of science is worth anything, as a mental -discipline, which is not based upon direct perception -of the facts, and practical exercise of the observing -and logical faculties upon them. Even in such a -simple matter as the mere comprehension of form, ask<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">46</a></span> -the most practised and widely informed anatomist -what is the difference between his knowledge of a -structure which he has read about, and his knowledge -of the same structure when he has seen it for himself; -and he will tell you that the two things are not comparable—the -difference is infinite. Thus I am very -strongly inclined to agree with some learned school-masters -who say that, in their experience, the teaching -of science is all waste time. As they teach it, I -have no doubt it is. But to teach it otherwise, requires -an amount of personal labour and a development -of means and appliances, which must strike -horror and dismay into a man accustomed to mere -book work; and who has been in the habit of teaching -a class of fifty without much strain upon his -energies. And this is one of the real difficulties in -the way of the introduction of physical science into -the ordinary University course, to which I have -alluded. It is a difficulty which will not be overcome, -until years of patient study have organised -scientific teaching as well as, or I hope better than, -classical teaching has been organised hitherto.</p> - -<p>A little while ago, I ventured to hint a doubt -as to the perfection of some of the arrangements -in the ancient Universities of England; but, in -their provision for giving instruction in Science as -such, and without direct reference to any of its -practical applications, they have set a brilliant example. -Within the last twenty years, Oxford alone -has sunk more than a hundred and twenty thousand -pounds in building and furnishing Physical, Chemical,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">47</a></span> -and Physiological Laboratories, and a magnificent -Museum, arranged with an almost luxurious regard -for the needs of the student. Cambridge, less rich, -but aided by the munificence of her Chancellor, is -taking the same course; and, in a few years, it will -be for no lack of the means and appliances of sound -teaching, if the mass of English University men remain -in their present state of barbarous ignorance of -even the rudiments of scientific culture.</p> - -<p>Yet another step needs to be made before Science -can be said to have taken its proper place in the -Universities. That is its recognition as a Faculty, or -branch of study demanding recognition and special -organisation, on account of its bearing on the wants -of mankind. The Faculties of Theology, Law, and -Medicine, are technical schools, intended to equip -men who have received general culture, with the -special knowledge which is needed for the proper performance -of the duties of clergymen, lawyers, and -medical practitioners.</p> - -<p>When the material well-being of the country -depended upon rude pasture and agriculture, and still -ruder mining; in the days when all the innumerable -applications of the principles of physical science to -practical purposes were non-existent even as dreams; -days which men living may have heard their fathers -speak of; what little physical science could be seen -to bear directly upon human life, lay within the province -of Medicine. Medicine was the foster-mother -of Chemistry, because it has to do with the preparation -of drugs and the detection of poisons; of Botany,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">48</a></span> -because it enabled the physician to recognise medicinal -herbs; of Comparative Anatomy and Physiology, -because the man who studied Human Anatomy and -Physiology for purely medical purposes was led to -extend his studies to the rest of the animal world.</p> - -<p>Within my recollection, the only way in which a -student could obtain anything like a training in -Physical Science, was by attending the lectures of -the Professors of Physical and Natural Science attached -to the Medical Schools. But, in the course of -the last thirty years, both foster-mother and child -have grown so big, that they threaten not only to -crush one another, but to press the very life out of -the unhappy student who enters the nursery; to the -great detriment of all three.</p> - -<p>I speak in the presence of those who know practically -what medical education is; for I may assume -that a large proportion of my hearers are more or less -advanced students of medicine. I appeal to the most -industrious and conscientious among you, to those -who are most deeply penetrated with a sense of the -extremely serious responsibilities which attach to the -calling of a medical practitioner, when I ask whether, -out of the four years which you devote to your studies, -you ought to spare even so much as an hour for any -work which does not tend directly to fit you for your -duties?</p> - -<p>Consider what that work is. Its foundation is a -sound and practical acquaintance with the structure -of the human organism, and with the modes and conditions -of its action in health. I say a sound and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">49</a></span> -practical acquaintance, to guard against the supposition -that my intention is to suggest that you ought -all to be minute anatomists and accomplished physiologists. -The devotion of your whole four years to -Anatomy and Physiology alone, would be totally -insufficient to attain that end. What I mean is, the -sort of practical, familiar, finger-end knowledge which -a watchmaker has of a watch, and which you expect -that craftsman, as an honest man, to have, when you -entrust a watch that goes badly, to him. It is a kind -of knowledge which is to be acquired, not in the -lecture-room, nor in the library, but in the dissecting-room -and the laboratory. It is to be had, not by -sharing your attention between these and sundry other -subjects, but by concentrating your minds, week after -week, and month after month, six or seven hours a -day, upon all the complexities of organ and function, -until each of the greater truths of anatomy and physiology -has become an organic part of your minds—until -you would know them if you were roused and -questioned in the middle of the night, as a man knows -the geography of his native place and the daily life of -his home. That is the sort of knowledge which, once -obtained, is a life-long possession. Other occupations -may fill your minds—it may grow dim, and seem to -be forgotten—but there it is, like the inscription on a -battered and defaced coin, which comes out when you -warm it.</p> - -<p>If I had the power to remodel Medical Education, -the first two years of the medical curriculum should -be devoted to nothing but such thorough study of Ana<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">50</a></span>tomy -and Physiology, with Physiological Chemistry -and Physics; the student should then pass a real, -practical examination in these subjects; and, having -gone through that ordeal satisfactorily, he should be -troubled no more with them. His whole mind should -then be given with equal intentness, to Therapeutics, -in its broadest sense, to Practical Medicine and to -Surgery, with instruction in Hygiene and in Medical -Jurisprudence; and of these subjects only—surely -there are enough of them—should he be required to -show a knowledge in his final examination.</p> - -<p>I cannot claim any special property in this theory -of what the medical curriculum should be, for I find -that views, more or less closely approximating these, -are held by all who have seriously considered the very -grave and pressing question of Medical Reform; and -have, indeed, been carried into practice, to some extent, -by the most enlightened Examining Boards. I have -heard but two kinds of objections to them. There is, -first, the objection of vested interests, which I will not -deal with here, because I want to make myself as -pleasant as I can, and no discussions are so unpleasant -as those which turn on such points. And there is, -secondly, the much more respectable objection, which -takes the general form of the reproach that, in thus -limiting the curriculum, we are seeking to narrow it. -We are told that the medical man ought to be a person -of good education and general information, if his profession -is to hold its own among other professions; that -he ought to know Botany, or else, if he goes abroad, he -will not be able to tell poisonous fruits from edible<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">51</a></span> -ones; that he ought to know drugs, as a druggist -knows them, or he will not be able to tell sham bark -and senna from the real articles; that he ought to -know Zoology, because—well, I really have never -been able to learn exactly why he is to be expected -to know zoology. There is, indeed, a popular superstition, -that doctors know all about things that are -queer or nasty to the general mind, and may, therefore, -be reasonably expected to know the “barbarous -binomials” applicable to snakes, snails, and slugs; an -amount of information with which the general mind -is usually completely satisfied. And there is a scientific -superstition that Physiology is largely aided by -Comparative Anatomy—a superstition which, like -most superstitions, once had a grain of truth at bottom; -but the grain has become homœopathic, since -Physiology took its modern experimental development, -and became what it is now, the application of -the principles of Physics and Chemistry to the elucidation -of the phenomena of life.</p> - -<p>I hold as strongly as any one can do, that the -medical practitioner ought to be a person of education -and good general culture; but I also hold by the old -theory of a Faculty, that a man should have his general -culture before he devotes himself to the special studies -of that Faculty; and I venture to maintain, that, if -the general culture obtained in the Faculty of Arts -were what it ought to be, the student would have -quite as much knowledge of the fundamental principles -of Physics, of Chemistry, and of Biology, as he needs, -before he commenced his special medical studies.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">52</a></span></p> - -<p>Moreover, I would urge, that a thorough study of -Human Physiology is, in itself, an education broader -and more comprehensive than much that passes under -that name. There is no side of the intellect which it -does not call into play, no region of human knowledge -into which either its roots, or its branches, do not -extend; like the Atlantic between the Old and the -New Worlds, its waves wash the shores of the two -worlds of matter and of mind; its tributary streams -flow from both; through its waters, as yet unfurrowed -by the keel of any Columbus, lies the road, if such -there be, from the one to the other; far away from -that North-west Passage of mere speculation, in which -so many brave souls have been hopelessly frozen up.</p> - -<p>But whether I am right or wrong about all this, -the patent fact of the limitation of time remains. As -the song runs:—</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="line i2">“If a man could be sure</div> -<div class="line i2"> That his life would endure</div> -<div class="line">For the space of a thousand long years——”</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p>he might do a number of things not practicable under -present conditions. Methuselah might, with much -propriety, have taken half a century to get his doctor’s -degree; and might, very fairly, have been required -to pass a practical examination upon the contents -of the British Museum, before commencing practice -as a promising young fellow of two hundred, or thereabouts. -But you have four years to do your work -in, and are turned loose, to save or slay, at two or -three and twenty.</p> - -<p>Now, I put it to you, whether you think that,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">53</a></span> -when you come down to the realities of life—when -you stand by the sick-bed, racking your brains for -the principles which shall furnish you with the means -of interpreting symptoms, and forming a rational -theory of the condition of your patient, it will be -satisfactory for you to find that those principles are -not there—although, to use the examination slang -which is unfortunately too familiar to me, you can -quite easily “give an account of the leading peculiarities -of the <i>Marsupialia</i>,” or “enumerate the -chief characters of the <i>Compositæ</i>,” or “state the class -and order of the animal from which Castoreum is -obtained.”</p> - -<p>I really do not think that state of things will be -satisfactory to you; I am very sure it will not be so -to your patient. Indeed, I am so narrow-minded -myself, that if I had to choose between two physicians—one -who did not know whether a whale is a -fish or not, and could not tell gentian from ginger, -but did understand the applications of the institutes -of medicine to his art; while the other, like Talleyrand’s -doctor, “knew everything, even a little physic”—with -all my love for breadth of culture, I should -assuredly consult the former.</p> - -<p>It is not pleasant to incur the suspicion of an inclination -to injure or depreciate particular branches -of knowledge. But the fact that one of those which -I should have no hesitation in excluding from the -medical curriculum, is that to which my own life has -been specially devoted, should, at any rate, defend me -from the suspicion of being urged to this course by<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">54</a></span> -any but the very gravest considerations of the public -welfare.</p> - -<p>And I should like, further, to call your attention -to the important circumstance that, in thus proposing -the exclusion of the study of such branches of knowledge -as Zoology and Botany, from those compulsory -upon the medical student, I am not, for a moment, -suggesting their exclusion from the University. I -think that sound and practical instruction in the -elementary facts and broad principles of Biology -should form part of the Arts Curriculum: and here, -happily, my theory is in entire accordance with your -practice. Moreover, as I have already said, I have -no sort of doubt that, in view of the relation of -Physical Science to the practical life of the present -day, it has the same right as Theology, Law, and -Medicine, to a Faculty of its own in which men shall -be trained to be professional men of science. It may -be doubted whether Universities are the places for -technical schools of Engineering, or Applied Chemistry, -or Agriculture. But there can surely be little -question, that instruction in the branches of Science -which lie at the foundation of these Arts, of a far -more advanced and special character than could, with -any propriety, be included in the ordinary Arts -Curriculum, ought to be obtainable by means of a -duly organised Faculty of Science in every University.</p> - -<p>The establishment of such a Faculty would have -the additional advantage of providing, in some -measure, for one of the greatest wants of our time<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">55</a></span> -and country. I mean the proper support and encouragement -of original research.</p> - -<p>The other day, an emphatic friend of mine committed -himself to the opinion that, in England, it is -better for a man’s worldly prospects to be a drunkard, -than to be smitten with the divine dipsomania of the -original investigator. I am inclined to think he was -not far wrong. And, be it observed, that the question -is not, whether such a man shall be able to make -as much out of his abilities as his brother, of like -ability, who goes into Law, or Engineering, or Commerce; -it is not a question of “maintaining a due -number of saddle horses,” as George Eliot somewhere -puts it—it is a question of living or starving.</p> - -<p>If a student of my own subject shows power and -originality, I dare not advise him to adopt a scientific -career; for, supposing he is able to maintain himself -until he has attained distinction, I cannot give him -the assurance that any amount of proficiency in the -Biological Sciences will be convertible into, even the -most modest, bread and cheese. And I believe that -the case is as bad, or perhaps worse, with other -branches of Science. In this respect Britain, whose -immense wealth and prosperity hang upon the thread -of Applied Science, is far behind France, and infinitely -behind Germany.</p> - -<p>And the worst of it is, that it is very difficult to -see one’s way to any immediate remedy for this state -of affairs which shall be free from a tendency to become -worse than the disease.</p> - -<p>Great schemes for the Endowment of Research<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">56</a></span> -have been proposed. It has been suggested, that -Laboratories for all branches of Physical Science, provided -with every apparatus needed by the investigator, -shall be established by the State: and shall be -accessible, under due conditions and regulations, to -all properly qualified persons. I see no objection to -the principle of such a proposal. If it be legitimate -to spend great sums of money on public Libraries and -public collections of Painting and Sculpture, in aid of -the man of letters, or the Artist, or for the mere sake -of affording pleasure to the general public, I apprehend -that it cannot be illegitimate to do as much for the -promotion of scientific investigation. To take the -lowest ground, as a mere investment of money, the -latter is likely to be much more immediately profitable. -To my mind, the difficulty in the way of such schemes -is not theoretical, but practical. Given the laboratories, -how are the investigators to be maintained? -What career is open to those who have been thus -encouraged to leave bread-winning pursuits? If they -are to be provided for by endowment, we come back -to the College Fellowship system, the results of which, -for Literature, have not been so brilliant that one -would wish to see it extended to Science; unless some -much better securities, than at present exist, can be -taken that it will foster real work. You know that -among the Bees, it depends on the kind of cell in -which the egg is deposited, and the quantity and -quality of food which is supplied to the grub, whether -it shall turn out a busy little worker or a big idle -queen. And, in the human hive, the cells of the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">57</a></span> -endowed larvæ are always tending to enlarge, and -their food to improve, until we get queens, beautiful -to behold, but which gather no honey and build no -comb.</p> - -<p>I do not say that these difficulties may not be -overcome, but their gravity is not to be lightly estimated.</p> - -<p>In the meanwhile, there is one step in the direction -of the endowment of research which is free from such -objections. It is possible to place the scientific -inquirer in a position in which he shall have ample -leisure and opportunity for original work, and yet -shall give a fair and tangible equivalent for those -privileges. The establishment of a Faculty of Science -in every University, implies that of a corresponding -number of Professorial chairs, the incumbents of -which need not be so burdened with teaching as to -deprive them of ample leisure for original work. I -do not think that it is any impediment to an original -investigator to have to devote a moderate portion -of his time to lecturing, or superintending practical -instruction. On the contrary, I think it may be, and -often is, a benefit to be obliged to take a comprehensive -survey of your subject; or to bring your results -to a point, and give them, as it were, a tangible -objective existence. The besetting sins of the investigator -are two: the one is the desire to put aside a -subject, the general bearings of which he has mastered -himself, and pass on to something which has the -attraction of novelty; and the other, the desire for -too much perfection, which leads him to</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">58</a></span></p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="line i05">“Add and alter many times,</div> -<div class="line">Till all be ripe and rotten;”</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p>to spend the energies which should be reserved for -action, in whitening the decks and polishing the guns.</p> - -<p>The obligation to produce results for the instruction -of others, seems to me to be a more effectual check -on these tendencies, than even the love of usefulness -or the ambition for fame.</p> - -<p>But supposing the Professorial forces of our -University to be duly organised, there remains an -important question, relating to the teaching power, to -be considered. Is the Professorial system—the system, -I mean, of teaching in the lecture-room alone, -and leaving the student to find his own way when he -is outside the lecture-room—adequate to the wants -of learners? In answering this question, I confine -myself to my own province, and I venture to reply -for Physical Science, assuredly and undoubtedly, No. -As I have already intimated, practical work in the -Laboratory is absolutely indispensable, and that practical -work must be guided and superintended by a -sufficient staff of Demonstrators, who are for Science -what Tutors are for other branches of study. And -there must be a good supply of such Demonstrators. -I doubt if the practical work of more than twenty -students can be properly superintended by one -Demonstrator. If we take the working day at six -hours, that is less than twenty minutes apiece—not a -very large allowance of time for helping a dull man, -for correcting an inaccurate one, or even for making -an intelligent student clearly apprehend what he is<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">59</a></span> -about. And, no doubt, the supplying of a proper -amount of this tutorial, practical teaching, is a difficulty -in the way of giving proper instruction in -Physical Science in such Universities as that of Aberdeen, -which are devoid of endowments; and, unlike -the English Universities, have no moral claim on -the funds of richly endowed bodies to supply their -wants.</p> - -<p>Examination—thorough, searching examination—is -an indispensable accompaniment of teaching; but I -am almost inclined to commit myself to the very -heterodox proposition that it is a necessary evil. I am -a very old Examiner, having, for some twenty years -past, been occupied with examinations on a considerable -scale, of all sorts and conditions of men, and -women too,—from the boys and girls of elementary -schools to the candidates for Honours and Fellowships -in the Universities. I will not say that, in this case -as in so many others, the adage, that familiarity -breeds contempt, holds good; but my admiration for -the existing system of examination and its products, -does not wax warmer as I see more of it. Examination, -like fire, is a good servant, but a bad master; -and there seems to me to be some danger of its -becoming our master. I by no means stand alone in -this opinion. Experienced friends of mine do not -hesitate to say that students whose career they watch, -appear to them to become deteriorated by the constant -effort to pass this or that examination, just as we hear -of men’s brains becoming affected by the daily -necessity of catching a train. They work to pass, not<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">60</a></span> -to know; and outraged Science takes her revenge. -They do pass, and they don’t know. I have passed -sundry examinations in my time, not without credit, -and I confess I am ashamed to think how very little -real knowledge underlay the torrent of stuff which I -was able to pour out on paper. In fact, that which -examination, as ordinarily conducted, tests, is simply -a man’s power of work under stimulus, and his capacity -for rapidly and clearly producing that which, for the -time, he has got into his mind. Now, these faculties -are by no means to be despised. They are of great -value in practical life, and are the making of many an -advocate, and of many a so-called statesman. But in -the pursuit of truth, scientific or other, they count for -very little, unless they are supplemented by that long-continued, -patient “intending of the mind,” as -Newton phrased it, which makes very little show in -Examinations. I imagine that an Examiner who -knows his students personally, must not unfrequently -have found himself in the position of finding A’s paper -better than B’s, though his own judgment tells him, -quite clearly, that B is the man who has the larger -share of genuine capacity.</p> - -<p>Again, there is a fallacy about Examiners. It is -commonly supposed that any one who knows a subject -is competent to teach it; and no one seems to doubt -that any one who knows a subject is competent to -examine in it. I believe both these opinions to be -serious mistakes: the latter, perhaps, the more serious -of the two. In the first place, I do not believe that -any one who is not, or has not been, a teacher is really<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">61</a></span> -qualified to examine advanced students. And in the -second place, Examination is an Art, and a difficult -one, which has to be learned like all other arts.</p> - -<p>Beginners always set too difficult questions—partly -because they are afraid of being suspected of ignorance -if they set easy ones, and partly from not understanding -their business. Suppose that you want to test -the relative physical strength of a score of young men. -You do not put a hundredweight down before them, -and tell each to swing it round. If you do, half of -them won’t be able to lift it at all, and only one or -two will be able to perform the task. You must give -them half a hundredweight, and see how they manœuvre -that, if you want to form any estimate of the -muscular strength of each. So, a practised Examiner -will seek for information respecting the mental vigour -and training of candidates from the way in which -they deal with questions easy enough to let reason, -memory, and method have free play.</p> - -<p>No doubt, a great deal is to be done by the careful -selection of Examiners, and by the copious introduction -of practical work, to remove the evils inseparable -from examination; but, under the best of circumstances, -I believe that examination will remain but -an imperfect test of knowledge, and a still more imperfect -test of capacity, while it tells next to nothing -about a man’s power as an investigator.</p> - -<p>There is much to be said in favour of restricting -the highest degrees in each Faculty, to those who -have shown evidence of such original power, by prosecuting -a research under the eye of the Professor in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">62</a></span> -whose province it lies; or, at any rate, under conditions -which shall afford satisfactory proof that the -work is theirs. The notion may sound revolutionary, -but it is really very old; for, I take it, that it lies at -the bottom of that presentation of a thesis by the -candidate for a doctorate, which has now, too often, -become little better than a matter of form.</p> - -<p class="tb">Thus far, I have endeavoured to lay before you, -in a too brief and imperfect manner, my views respecting -the teaching half—the Magistri and Regentes—of -the University of the Future. Now let me turn to -the learning half—the Scholares.</p> - -<p>If the Universities are to be the sanctuaries of the -highest culture of the country, those who would -enter that sanctuary, must not come with unwashed -hands. If the good seed is to yield its hundredfold -harvest, it must not be scattered amidst the stones of -ignorance, or the tares of undisciplined indolence and -wantonness. On the contrary, the soil must have -been carefully prepared, and the Professor should find -that the operations of clod-crushing, draining, and -weeding, and even a good deal of planting, have been -done by the Schoolmaster.</p> - -<p>That is exactly what the Professor does not find -in any University in the three Kingdoms that I can -hear of—the reason of which state of things lies in -the extremely faulty organisation of the majority of -secondary Schools. Students come to the Universities -ill-prepared in classics and mathematics, not at all -prepared in anything else; and half their time is<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">63</a></span> -spent in learning that which they ought to have -known when they came.</p> - -<p>I sometimes hear it said that the Scottish Universities -differ from the English, in being to a much -greater extent places of comparatively elementary -education for a younger class of students. But it -would seem doubtful if any great difference of this -kind really exists; for a high authority, himself Head -of an English College, has solemnly affirmed that: -“Elementary teaching of youths under twenty is now -the only function performed by the University;” and -that Colleges are “boarding schools in which the -elements of the learned languages are taught to -youths.”<a name="FNanchor_6_6" id="FNanchor_6_6"></a><a href="#Footnote_6_6" class="fnanchor">6</a></p> - -<p>This is not the first time that I have quoted those -remarkable assertions. I should like to engrave them -in public view, for they have not been refuted; and -I am convinced that if their import is once clearly -apprehended, they will play no mean part when the -question of University reorganisation, with a view to -practical measures, comes on for discussion. You are -not responsible for this anomalous state of affairs -now; but, as you pass into active life and acquire the -political influence to which your education and your -position should entitle you, you will become responsible -for it, unless each in his sphere does his best to -alter it, by insisting on the improvement of secondary -Schools.</p> - -<p>Your present responsibility is of another, though -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">64</a></span>not less serious, kind. Institutions do not make men, -any more than organisation makes life; and even the -ideal University we have been dreaming about will -be but a superior piece of mechanism, unless each -student strive after the ideal of the Scholar. And -that ideal, it seems to me, has never been better embodied -than by the great Poet, who, though lapped in -luxury, the favourite of a Court, and the idol of his -countrymen, remained through all the length of his -honoured years a Scholar in Art, in Science, and in -Life.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="line i05">“Would’st shape a noble life? Then cast</div> -<div class="line">No backward glances towards the past:</div> -<div class="line">And though somewhat be lost and gone,</div> -<div class="line">Yet do thou act as one new-born.</div> -<div class="line">What each day needs, that shalt thou ask;</div> -<div class="line">Each day will set its proper task.</div> -<div class="line">Give other’s work just share of praise;</div> -<div class="line">Not of thine own the merits raise.</div> -<div class="line">Beware no fellow man thou hate:</div> -<div class="line">And so in God’s hands leave thy fate.”<a name="FNanchor_7_7" id="FNanchor_7_7"></a><a href="#Footnote_7_7" class="fnanchor">7</a></div> -</div></div></div> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">65</a></span></p> - -<h2>III.<br /><br /> - -TECHNICAL EDUCATION.</h2> - -<p><span class="smcap">Any</span> candid observer of the phenomena of modern -society will readily admit that bores must be classed -among the enemies of the human race; and a little -consideration will probably lead him to the further -admission, that no species of that extensive genus of -noxious creatures is more objectionable than the educational -bore. Convinced as I am of the truth of this -great social generalisation, it is not without a certain -trepidation that I venture to address you on an educational -topic. For, in the course of the last ten years, -to go back no farther, I am afraid to say how often I -have ventured to speak of education, from that given -in the primary schools to that which is to be had in -the universities and medical colleges; indeed, the only -part of this wide region into which, as yet, I have not -adventured is that into which I propose to intrude -to-day.</p> - -<p>Thus, I cannot but be aware that I am dangerously -near becoming the thing which all men fear and fly. -But I have deliberately elected to run the risk. For -when you did me the honour to ask me to address you, -an unexpected circumstance had led me to occupy<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">66</a></span> -myself seriously with the question of technical education; -and I had acquired the conviction that there are -few subjects respecting which it is more important for -all classes of the community to have clear and just -ideas than this; while, certainly, there is none which -is more deserving of attention by the Working Men’s -Club and Institute Union.</p> - -<p>It is not for me to express an opinion whether the -considerations, which I am about to submit to you, will -be proved by experience to be just or not; but I will -do my best to make them clear. Among the many -good things to be found in Lord Bacon’s works, none -is more full of wisdom than the saying that “truth -more easily comes out of error than out of confusion.” -Clear and consecutive wrong-thinking is the next best -thing to right-thinking; so that, if I succeed in clearing -your ideas on this topic, I shall have wasted neither -your time nor my own.</p> - -<p>“Technical education,” in the sense in which the -term is ordinarily used, and in which I am now -employing it, means that sort of education which is -specially adapted to the needs of men whose business -in life it is to pursue some kind of handicraft; it is, -in fact, a fine Greco-Latin equivalent for what in good -vernacular English would be called “the teaching of -handicrafts.” And probably, at this stage of our progress, -it may occur to many of you to think of the -story of the cobbler and his last, and to say to yourselves, -though you will be too polite to put the question -openly to me, What does the speaker know practically -about this matter? What is his handicraft? I think<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">67</a></span> -the question is a very proper one, and unless I were -prepared to answer it, I hope satisfactorily, I should -have chosen some other theme.</p> - -<p>The fact is, I am, and have been, any time these -thirty years, a man who works with his hands—a -handicraftsman. I do not say this in the broadly -metaphorical sense in which fine gentlemen, with all -the delicacy of Agag about them, trip to the hustings -about election time, and protest that they too are -working men. I really mean my words to be taken -in their direct, literal, and straightforward sense. In -fact, if the most nimble-fingered watchmaker among -you will come to my workshop, he may set me to put -a watch together, and I will set him to dissect, say, a -blackbeetle’s nerves. I do not wish to vaunt, but I -am inclined to think that I shall manage my job to his -satisfaction sooner than he will do his piece of work -to mine.</p> - -<p>In truth, anatomy, which is my handicraft, is one -of the most difficult kinds of mechanical labour, involving, -as it does, not only lightness and dexterity -of hand, but sharp eyes and endless patience. And -you must not suppose that my particular branch of -science is especially distinguished for the demand it -makes upon skill in manipulation. A similar requirement -is made upon all students of physical science. -The astronomer, the electrician, the chemist, the mineralogist, -the botanist, are constantly called upon to perform -manual operations of exceeding delicacy. The -progress of all branches of physical science depends -upon observation, or on that artificial observation<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">68</a></span> -which is termed experiment, of one kind or another; -and, the farther we advance, the more practical difficulties -surround the investigation of the conditions of -the problems offered to us; so that mobile and yet -steady hands, guided by clear vision, are more and -more in request in the workshops of science.</p> - -<p>Indeed, it has struck me that one of the grounds -of that sympathy between the handicraftsmen of this -country and the men of science, by which it has so -often been my good fortune to profit, may, perhaps, -lie here. You feel and we feel that, among the so-called -learned folks, we alone are brought into contact -with tangible facts in the way that you are. You -know well enough that it is one thing to write a -history of chairs in general, or to address a poem to -a throne, or to speculate about the occult powers of -the chair of St. Peter; and quite another thing to -make with your own hands a veritable chair, that -will stand fair and square, and afford a safe and satisfactory -resting-place to a frame of sensitiveness and -solidity.</p> - -<p>So it is with us, when we look out from our -scientific handicrafts upon the doings of our learned -brethren, whose work is untrammelled by anything -“base and mechanical,” as handicrafts used to be -called when the world was younger, and, in some -respects, less wise than now. We take the greatest -interest in their pursuits; we are edified by their -histories and are charmed with their poems, which -sometimes illustrate so remarkably the powers of man’s -imagination; some of us admire and even humbly try<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">69</a></span> -to follow them in their high philosophical excursions, -though we know the risk of being snubbed by the -inquiry whether grovelling dissectors of monkeys and -blackbeetles can hope to enter into the empyreal -kingdom of speculation. But still we feel that our -business is different; humbler if you will, though the -diminution of dignity is, perhaps, compensated by the -increase of reality; and that we, like you, have to get -our work done in a region where little avails, if the -power of dealing with practical tangible facts is wanting. -You know that clever talk touching joinery will -not make a chair; and I know that it is of about as -much value in the physical sciences. Mother Nature -is serenely obdurate to honeyed words; only those -who understand the ways of things, and can silently -and effectually handle them, get any good out of -her.</p> - -<p class="tb">And now, having, as I hope, justified my assumption -of a place among handicraftsmen, and put myself -right with you as to my qualification, from practical -knowledge, to speak about technical education, I will -proceed to lay before you the results of my experience -as a teacher of a handicraft, and tell you what sort of -education I should think best adapted for a boy whom -one wanted to make a professional anatomist.</p> - -<p>I should say, in the first place, let him have a good -English elementary education. I do not mean that -he shall be able to pass in such and such a standard—that -may or may not be an equivalent expression—but -that his teaching shall have been such as to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">70</a></span> -have given him command of the common implements -of learning and to have created a desire for the things -of the understanding.</p> - -<p>Further, I should like him to know the elements -of physical science, and especially of physics and -chemistry, and I should take care that this elementary -knowledge was real. I should like my aspirant to be -able to read a scientific treatise in Latin, French, or -German, because an enormous amount of anatomical -knowledge is locked up in those languages. And -especially, I should require some ability to draw—I do -not mean artistically, for that is a gift which may be -cultivated but cannot be learned, but with fair accuracy. -I will not say that everybody can learn even -this; for the negative development of the faculty of -drawing in some people is almost miraculous. Still -everybody, or almost everybody, can learn to write; -and, as writing is a kind of drawing, I suppose that -the majority of the people who say they cannot draw, -and give copious evidence of the accuracy of their -assertion, could draw, after a fashion, if they tried. -And that “after a fashion” would be better than -nothing for my purposes.</p> - -<p>Above all things, let my imaginary pupil have -preserved the freshness and vigour of youth in his -mind as well as his body. The educational abomination -of desolation of the present day is the stimulation -of young people to work at high pressure by -incessant competitive examinations. Some wise man -(who probably was not an early riser) has said of early -risers in general, that they are conceited all the fore<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">71</a></span>noon -and stupid all the afternoon. Now whether this -is true of early risers in the common acceptation of -the word or not, I will not pretend to say; but it is -too often true of the unhappy children who are forced -to rise too early in their classes. They are conceited -all the forenoon of life, and stupid all its afternoon. -The vigour and freshness, which should have been -stored up for the purposes of the hard struggle for -existence in practical life, have been washed out of -them by precocious mental debauchery—by book -gluttony and lesson bibbing. Their faculties are -worn out by the strain put upon their callow brains, -and they are demoralised by worthless childish -triumphs before the real work of life begins. I have -no compassion for sloth, but youth has more need for -intellectual rest than age; and the cheerfulness, the -tenacity of purpose, the power of work which make -many a successful man what he is, must often be -placed to the credit, not of his hours of industry, but -to that of his hours of idleness, in boyhood. Even -the hardest worker of us all, if he has to deal with -anything above mere details, will do well, now and -again, to let his brain lie fallow for a space. The -next crop of thought will certainly be all the fuller in -the ear and the weeds fewer.</p> - -<p>This is the sort of education which I should like -any one who was going to devote himself to my handicraft -to undergo. As to knowing anything about -anatomy itself, on the whole I would rather he left -that alone until he took it up seriously in my laboratory. -It is hard work enough to teach, and I should<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">72</a></span> -not like to have superadded to that the possible -need of unteaching.</p> - -<p>Well, but, you will say, this is Hamlet with the -Prince of Denmark left out; your “technical education” -is simply a good education, with more attention -to physical science, to drawing, and to modern languages, -than is common, and there is nothing specially -technical about it.</p> - -<p>Exactly so; that remark takes us straight to the -heart of what I have to say; which is, that, in my -judgment, the preparatory education of the handicraftsman -ought to have nothing of what is ordinarily -understood by “technical” about it.</p> - -<p>The workshop is the only real school for a handicraft. -The education which precedes that of the -workshop should be entirely devoted to the strengthening -of the body, the elevation of the moral faculties, -and the cultivation of the intelligence; and, especially, -to the imbuing the mind with a broad and clear view -of the laws of that natural world with the components -of which the handicraftsman will have to deal. And, -the earlier the period of life at which the handicraftsman -has to enter into actual practice of his craft, the -more important is it that he should devote the precious -hours of preliminary education to things of the mind, -which have no direct and immediate bearing on his -branch of industry, though they lie at the foundation -of all realities.</p> - -<p class="tb">Now let me apply the lessons I have learned from -my handicraft to yours. If any of you were obliged<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">73</a></span> -to take an apprentice, I suppose you would like to -get a good healthy lad, ready and willing to learn, -handy, and with his fingers not all thumbs, as the -saying goes. You would like that he should read, -write, and cipher well; and, if you were an intelligent -master, and your trade involved the application of -scientific principles, as so many trades do, you would -like him to know enough of the elementary principles -of science to understand what was going on. I suppose -that, in nine trades out of ten, it would be useful -if he could draw; and many of you must have lamented -your inability to find out for yourselves what -foreigners are doing or have done. So that some -knowledge of French and German might, in many -cases, be very desirable.</p> - -<p>So it appears to me that what you want is pretty -much what I want; and the practical question is, -How you are to get what you need, under the actual -limitations and conditions of life of handicraftsmen in -this country?</p> - -<p>I think I shall have the assent both of the employers -of labour and of the employed as to one of -these limitations; which is, that no scheme of technical -education is likely to be seriously entertained -which will delay the entrance of boys into working -life, or prevent them from contributing towards their -own support, as early as they do at present. Not -only do I believe that any such scheme could not be -carried out, but I doubt its desirableness, even if it -were practicable.</p> - -<p>The period between childhood and manhood is full<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">74</a></span> -of difficulties and dangers, under the most favourable -circumstances; and, even among the well-to-do, who -can afford to surround their children with the most -favourable conditions, examples of a career ruined, -before it has well begun, are but too frequent. Moreover, -those who have to live by labour must be shaped -to labour early. The colt that is left at grass too -long makes but a sorry draught-horse, though his way -of life does not bring him within the reach of artificial -temptations. Perhaps the most valuable result of all -education is the ability to make yourself do the thing -you have to do, when it ought to be done, whether -you like it or not; it is the first lesson that ought -to be learned; and, however early a man’s training -begins, it is probably the last lesson that he learns -thoroughly.</p> - -<p>There is another reason, to which I have already -adverted, and which I would reiterate, why any extension -of the time devoted to ordinary school-work -is undesirable. In the newly awakened zeal for -education, we run some risk of forgetting the truth -that while under-instruction is a bad thing, over-instruction -may possibly be a worse.</p> - -<p>Success in any kind of practical life is not dependent -solely, or indeed chiefly, upon knowledge. Even -in the learned professions, knowledge, alone, is of less -consequence than people are apt to suppose. And, if -much expenditure of bodily energy is involved in the -day’s work, mere knowledge is of still less importance -when weighed against the probable cost of its acquirement. -To do a fair day’s work with his hands, a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">75</a></span> -man needs, above all things, health, strength, and -the patience and cheerfulness which, if they do not -always accompany these blessings, can hardly in the -nature of things exist without them; to which we -must add honesty of purpose and a pride in doing -what is done well.</p> - -<p>A good handicraftsman can get on very well without -genius, but he will fare badly without a reasonable -share of that which is a more useful possession for -workaday life, namely, mother-wit; and he will be all -the better for a real knowledge, however limited, of the -ordinary laws of nature, and especially of those which -apply to his own business.</p> - -<p>Instruction carried so far as to help the scholar to -turn his store of mother-wit to account, to acquire a -fair amount of sound elementary knowledge, and to -use his hands and eyes; while leaving him fresh, -vigorous, and with a sense of the dignity of his own -calling, whatever it may be, if fairly and honestly -pursued, cannot fail to be of invaluable service to all -those who come under its influence.</p> - -<p>But, on the other hand, if school instruction is -carried so far as to encourage bookishness; if the -ambition of the scholar is directed, not to the gaining -of knowledge, but to the being able to pass examinations -successfully; especially if encouragement is -given to the mischievous delusion that brainwork is, -in itself, and apart from its quality, a nobler or more -respectable thing than handiwork—such education -may be a deadly mischief to the workman, and lead to -the rapid ruin of the industries it is intended to serve.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">76</a></span></p> - -<p>I know that I am expressing the opinion of some -of the largest as well as the most enlightened employers -of labour, when I say that there is a real -danger that, from the extreme of no education, we -may run to the other extreme of over-education of -handicraftsmen. And I apprehend that what is true -for the ordinary hand-worker is true for the foreman. -Activity, probity, knowledge of men, ready mother-wit, -supplemented by a good knowledge of the general -principles involved in his business, are the making -of a good foreman. If he possess these qualities, -no amount of learning will fit him better for his position; -while the course of life and the habit of mind -required for the attainment of such learning may, in -various direct and indirect ways, act as direct disqualifications -for it.</p> - -<p>Keeping in mind, then, that the two things to be -avoided are, the delay of the entrance of boys into -practical life, and the substitution of exhausted book-worms -for shrewd, handy men, in our works and factories, -let us consider what may be wisely and safely -attempted in the way of improving the education of -the handicraftsman.</p> - -<p>First, I look to the elementary schools now happily -established all over the country. I am not going to -criticise or find fault with them; on the contrary, -their establishment seems to me to be the most important -and the most beneficial result of the corporate -action of the people in our day. A great deal is said -of British interests just now, but, depend upon it, -that no Eastern difficulty needs our intervention as a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">77</a></span> -nation so seriously, as the putting down both the -Bashi-Bazouks of ignorance and the Cossacks of sectarianism -at home. What has already been achieved -in these directions is a great thing; you must have -lived some time to know how great. An education, -better in its processes, better in its substance, than -that which was accessible to the great majority of -well-to-do Britons a quarter of a century ago, is now -obtainable by every child in the land. Let any man -of my age go into an ordinary elementary school, and, -unless he was unusually fortunate in his youth, he -will tell you that the educational method, the intelligence, -patience, and good temper on the teacher’s -part, which are now at the disposal of the veriest -waifs and wastrels of society, are things of which he -had no experience in those costly middle-class schools, -which were so ingeniously contrived as to combine all -the evils and shortcomings of the great public schools -with none of their advantages. Many a man, whose -so-called education cost a good deal of valuable money -and occupied many a year of invaluable time, leaves -the inspection of a well-ordered elementary school -devoutly wishing that, in his young days, he had -had the chance of being as well taught as these boys -and girls are.</p> - -<p>But while, in view of such an advance in general -education, I willingly obey the natural impulse to be -thankful, I am not willing altogether to rest. I want -to see instruction in elementary science and in art -more thoroughly incorporated in the educational system. -At present, it is being administered by driblets,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">78</a></span> -as if it were a potent medicine, “a few drops to be -taken occasionally in a teaspoon.” Every year I -notice that that earnest and untiring friend of yours -and of mine, Sir John Lubbock, stirs up the Government -of the day in the House of Commons on this -subject; and also that, every year, he, and the few -members of the House of Commons, such as Mr. -Playfair, who sympathise with him, are met with -expressions of warm admiration for science in general, -and reasons at large for doing nothing in particular. -But now that Mr. Forster, to whom the education -of the country owes so much, has announced his conversion -to the right faith, I begin to hope that, sooner -or later, things will mend.</p> - -<p>I have given what I believe to be a good reason for -the assumption, that the keeping at school of boys, who -are to be handicraftsmen, beyond the age of thirteen or -fourteen is neither practicable nor desirable; and, as it -is quite certain, that, with justice to other and no less -important branches of education, nothing more than -the rudiments of science and art teaching can be -introduced into elementary schools, we must seek -elsewhere for a supplementary training in these subjects, -and, if need be, in foreign languages, which may -go on after the workman’s life has begun.</p> - -<p>The means of acquiring the scientific and artistic -part of this training already exists in full working -order, in the first place, in the classes of the Science -and Art Department, which are, for the most part, held -in the evening, so as to be accessible to all who choose -to avail themselves of them after working hours. The<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">79</a></span> -great advantage of these classes is that they bring the -means of instruction to the doors of the factories and -workshops; that they are no artificial creations, but -by their very existence prove the desire of the people -for them; and finally, that they admit of indefinite -development in proportion as they are wanted. I -have often expressed the opinion, and I repeat it here, -that, during the eighteen years they have been in -existence, these classes have done incalculable good; -and I can say, of my own knowledge, that the Department -spares no pains and trouble in trying to increase -their usefulness and ensure the soundness of their -work.</p> - -<p>No one knows better than my friend Colonel -Donnelly, to whose clear views and great administrative -abilities so much of the successful working of the -science classes is due, that there is much to be done -before the system can be said to be thoroughly satisfactory. -The instruction given needs to be made -more systematic and especially more practical; the -teachers are of very unequal excellence, and not a few -stand much in need of instruction themselves, not -only in the subjects which they teach, but in the -objects for which they teach. I daresay you have -heard of that proceeding, reprobated by all true -sportsmen, which is called “shooting for the pot.” -Well, there is such a thing as “teaching for the pot”—teaching, -that is, not that your scholar may know, -but that he may count for payment among those who -pass the examination; and there are some teachers, -happily not many, who have yet to learn that the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">80</a></span> -examiners of the Department regard them as poachers -of the worst description.</p> - -<p>Without presuming in any way to speak in the -name of the Department, I think I may say, as a -matter which has come under my own observation, -that it is doing its best to meet all these difficulties. -It systematically promotes practical instruction in the -classes; it affords facilities to teachers who desire to -learn their business thoroughly; and it is always -ready to aid in the suppression of pot-teaching.</p> - -<p>All this is, as you may imagine, highly satisfactory -to me. I see that spread of scientific education, about -which I have so often permitted myself to worry the -public, become, for all practical purposes, an accomplished -fact. Grateful as I am for all that is now -being done, in the same direction, in our higher -schools and universities, I have ceased to have any -anxiety about the wealthier classes. Scientific knowledge -is spreading by what the alchemists called a -“distillatio per ascensum;” and nothing now can -prevent it from continuing to distil upwards and permeate -English society, until, in the remote future, there -shall be no member of the legislature who does not -know as much of science as an elementary school-boy; -and even the heads of houses in our venerable seats -of learning shall acknowledge that natural science is -not merely a sort of University back-door through -which inferior men may get at their degrees. Perhaps -this apocalyptic vision is a little wild; and I feel I -ought to ask pardon for an outbreak of enthusiasm, -which, I assure you, is not my commonest failing.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">81</a></span> -I have said that the Government is already doing -a great deal in aid of that kind of technical education -for handicraftsmen which, to my mind, is alone worth -seeking. Perhaps it is doing as much as it ought to -do, even in this direction. Certainly there is another -kind of help of the most important character, for which -we may look elsewhere than to the Government. -The great mass of mankind have neither the liking, -nor the aptitude, for either literary, or scientific, or -artistic pursuits; nor, indeed, for excellence of any -sort. Their ambition is to go through life with -moderate exertion and a fair share of ease, doing -common things in a common way. And a great -blessing and comfort it is that the majority of men -are of this mind; for the majority of things to be -done are common things, and are quite well enough -done when commonly done. The great end of life is -not knowledge but action. What men need is, as -much knowledge as they can assimilate and organise -into a basis for action; give them more and it may -become injurious. One knows people who are as heavy -and stupid from undigested learning as others are from -over-fulness of meat and drink. But a small percentage -of the population is born with that most -excellent quality, a desire for excellence, or with -special aptitudes of some sort or another; Mr. Galton -tells us that not more than one in four thousand may -be expected to attain distinction, and not more than -one in a million some share of that intensity of instinctive -aptitude, that burning thirst for excellence, -which is called genius.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">82</a></span></p> - -<p>Now, the most important object of all educational -schemes is to catch these exceptional people, and turn -them to account for the good of society. No man -can say where they will crop up; like their opposites, -the fools and knaves, they appear sometimes in the -palace, and sometimes in the hovel; but the great -thing to be aimed at, I was almost going to say the -most important end of all social arrangements, is to -keep these glorious sports of Nature from being either -corrupted by luxury or starved by poverty, and to -put them into the position in which they can do the -work for which they are specially fitted.</p> - -<p>Thus, if a lad in an elementary school showed -signs of special capacity, I would try to provide him -with the means of continuing his education after his -daily working life had begun; if, in the evening -classes, he developed special capabilities in the direction -of science or of drawing, I would try to secure -him an apprenticeship to some trade in which those -powers would have applicability. Or, if he chose -to become a teacher, he should have the chance of -so doing. Finally, to the lad of genius, the one in -a million, I would make accessible the highest and -most complete training the country could afford. -Whatever that might cost, depend upon it the investment -would be a good one. I weigh my words when -I say that if the nation could purchase a potential -Watt, or Davy, or Faraday, at the cost of a hundred -thousand pounds down, he would be dirt-cheap at the -money. It is a mere commonplace and everyday -piece of knowledge, that what these three men did<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">83</a></span> -has produced untold millions of wealth, in the narrowest -economical sense of the word.</p> - -<p>Therefore, as the sum and crown of what is to be -done for technical education, I look to the provision -of a machinery for winnowing out the capacities and -giving them scope. When I was a member of the -London School Board, I said, in the course of a -speech, that our business was to provide a ladder, -reaching from the gutter to the university, along -which every child in the three kingdoms should have -the chance of climbing as far as he was fit to go. -This phrase was so much bandied about at the time, -that, to say truth, I am rather tired of it; but I know -of no other which so fully expresses my belief, not -only about education in general, but about technical -education in particular.</p> - -<p>The essential foundation of all the organisation -needed for the promotion of education among handicraftsmen -will, I believe, exist in this country, when -every working lad can feel that society has done as -much as lies in its power to remove all needless and -artificial obstacles from his path; that there is no -barrier, except such as exists in the nature of things, -between himself and whatever place in the social organisation -he is fitted to fill; and, more than this, -that, if he has capacity and industry, a hand is held -out to help him along any path which is wisely and -honestly chosen.</p> - -<p>I have endeavoured to point out to you that a -great deal of such an organisation already exists; and -I am glad to be able to add that there is a good<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">84</a></span> -prospect that what is wanting will, before long, be -supplemented.</p> - -<p>Those powerful and wealthy societies, the livery -companies of the City of London, remembering that -they are the heirs and representatives of the trade -guilds of the Middle Ages, are interesting themselves -in the question. So far back as 1872 the Society of -Arts organised a system of instruction in the technology -of arts and manufactures, for persons actually -employed in factories and workshops, who desired to -extend and improve their knowledge of the theory -and practice of their particular avocations;<a name="FNanchor_8_8" id="FNanchor_8_8"></a><a href="#Footnote_8_8" class="fnanchor">8</a> and a -considerable subsidy, in aid of the efforts of the -Society, was liberally granted by the Clothworkers’ -Company. We have here the hopeful commencement of -a rational organisation for the promotion of excellence -among handicraftsmen. Quite recently, other of the -livery companies have determined upon giving their -powerful, and, indeed, almost boundless, aid to the -improvement of the teaching of handicrafts. They -have already gone so far as to appoint a committee to -act for them; and I betray no confidence in adding -that, some time since, the committee sought the advice -and assistance of several persons, myself among -the number.</p> - -<p>Of course I cannot tell you what may be the result -of the deliberations of the committee; but we may all -fairly hope that, before long, steps which will have a -weighty and a lasting influence on the growth and -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">85</a></span>spread of sound and thorough teaching among the -handicraftsmen<a name="FNanchor_9_9" id="FNanchor_9_9"></a><a href="#Footnote_9_9" class="fnanchor">9</a> of this country will be taken by the -livery companies of London.</p> - -<div class="blockquot"> - -<p>[This hope has been fully justified by the establishment of -the Cowper Street Schools, and that of the Central Institution of -the City and Guilds of London Institute. September 1881.]</p></div> -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">86</a></span></p> - -<h2>IV.<br /><br /> - -ON ELEMENTARY INSTRUCTION IN -PHYSIOLOGY.</h2> - -<p><span class="smcap">The</span> chief ground upon which I venture to recommend -that the teaching of elementary physiology should form -an essential part of any organised course of instruction -in matters pertaining to domestic economy, is, -that a knowledge of even the elements of this subject -supplies those conceptions of the constitution and -mode of action of the living body, and of the nature -of health and disease, which prepare the mind to -receive instruction from sanitary science.</p> - -<p>It is, I think, eminently desirable that the hygienist -and the physician should find something in the -public mind to which they can appeal; some little -stock of universally acknowledged truths, which may -serve as a foundation for their warnings, and predispose -towards an intelligent obedience to their -recommendations.</p> - -<p>Listening to ordinary talk about health, disease, -and death, one is often led to entertain a doubt whether -the speakers believe that the course of natural causation -runs as smoothly in the human body as elsewhere. -Indications are too often obvious of a strong, though<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">87</a></span> -perhaps an unavowed and half unconscious, under-current -of opinion that the phenomena of life are not -only widely different, in their superficial characters and -in their practical importance, from other natural events, -but that they do not follow in that definite order -which characterises the succession of all other occurrences, -and the statement of which we call a law of -nature.</p> - -<p>Hence, I think, arises the want of heartiness of -belief in the value of knowledge respecting the laws -of health and disease, and of the foresight and care to -which knowledge is the essential preliminary, which -is so often noticeable; and a corresponding laxity and -carelessness in practice, the results of which are too -frequently lamentable.</p> - -<p>It is said that among the many religious sects of -Russia, there is one which holds that all disease is -brought about by the direct and special interference -of the Deity, and which, therefore, looks with repugnance -upon both preventive and curative measures as -alike blasphemous interferences with the will of God. -Among ourselves, the “Peculiar People” are, I believe, -the only persons who hold the like doctrine in its -integrity, and carry it out with logical rigour. But -many of us are old enough to recollect that the -administration of chloroform in assuagement of the -pangs of childbirth was, at its introduction, strenuously -resisted upon similar grounds.</p> - -<p>I am not sure that the feeling, of which the doctrine -to which I have referred is the full expression, does -not lie at the bottom of the minds of a great many<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">88</a></span> -people who yet would vigorously object to give a -verbal assent to the doctrine itself. However this -may be, the main point is that sufficient knowledge -has now been acquired of vital phenomena, to justify -the assertion, that the notion, that there is anything -exceptional about these phenomena, receives not a -particle of support from any known fact. On the -contrary, there is a vast and an increasing mass of -evidence that birth and death, health and disease, are -as much parts of the ordinary stream of events as the -rising and setting of the sun, or the changes of the -moon; and that the living body is a mechanism, the -proper working of which we term health; its disturbance, -disease; its stoppage, death. The activity of -this mechanism is dependent upon many and complicated -conditions, some of which are hopelessly beyond -our control, while others are readily accessible, and -are capable of being indefinitely modified by our own -actions. The business of the hygienist and of the -physician is to know the range of these modifiable -conditions, and how to influence them towards the -maintenance of health and the prolongation of life; -the business of the general public is to give an intelligent -assent, and a ready obedience based upon that -assent, to the rules laid down for their guidance by -such experts. But an intelligent assent is an assent -based upon knowledge, and the knowledge which is -here in question means an acquaintance with the -elements of physiology.</p> - -<p>It is not difficult to acquire such knowledge. -What is true, to a certain extent, of all the physical<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">89</a></span> -sciences, is eminently characteristic of physiology—the -difficulty of the subject begins beyond the stage -of elementary knowledge, and increases with every -stage of progress. While the most highly trained and -the best furnished intellect may find all its resources -insufficient, when it strives to reach the heights and -penetrate into the depths of the problems of physiology, -the elementary and fundamental truths can be made -clear to a child.</p> - -<p>No one can have any difficulty in comprehending -the mechanism of circulation or respiration; or the -general mode of operation of the organ of vision; -though the unravelling of all the minutiæ of these -processes, may, for the present, baffle the conjoined -attacks of the most accomplished physicists, chemists, -and mathematicians. To know the anatomy of the -human body, with even an approximation to thoroughness, -is the work of a life; but as much as is needed -for a sound comprehension of elementary physiological -truths, may be learned in a week.</p> - -<p>A knowledge of the elements of physiology is not -only easy of acquirement, but it may be made a real -and practical acquaintance with the facts, as far as it -goes. The subject of study is always at hand, in -oneself. The principal constituents of the skeleton, -and the changes of form of contracting muscles, may -be felt through one’s own skin. The beating of one’s -heart, and its connection with the pulse, may be noted; -the influence of the valves of one’s own veins may be -shown; the movements of respiration may be observed; -while the wonderful phenomena of sensation afford an<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">90</a></span> -endless field for curious and interesting self-study. -The prick of a needle will yield, in a drop of one’s -own blood, material for microscopic observation of -phenomena which lie at the foundation of all biological -conceptions; and a cold, with its concomitant coughing -and sneezing, may prove the sweet uses of adversity -by helping one to a clear conception of what is meant -by “reflex action.”</p> - -<p>Of course there is a limit to this physiological -self-examination. But there is so close a solidarity -between ourselves and our poor relations of the animal -world, that our inaccessible inward parts may be -supplemented by theirs. A comparative anatomist -knows that a sheep’s heart and lungs, or eye, must not -be confounded with those of a man; but, so far as the -comprehension of the elementary facts of the physiology -of circulation, of respiration, and of vision goes, -the one furnishes the needful anatomical data as well -as the other.</p> - -<p>Thus, it is quite possible to give instruction in -elementary physiology in such a manner as, not only -to confer knowledge, which, for the reason I have -mentioned, is useful in itself; but to serve the purposes -of a training in accurate observation, and in the -methods of reasoning of physical science. But that -is an advantage which I mention only incidentally, as -the present Conference does not deal with education -in the ordinary sense of the word.</p> - -<p>It will not be suspected that I wish to make -physiologists of all the world. It would be as reasonable -to accuse an advocate of the “three R’s” of a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">91</a></span> -desire to make an orator, an author, and a mathematician -of everybody. A stumbling reader, a pot-hook -writer, and an arithmetician who has not got -beyond the rule of three, is not a person of brilliant -acquirements; but the difference between such a -member of society and one who can neither read, -write, nor cipher is almost inexpressible; and no one -now-a-days doubts the value of instruction, even if it -goes no farther.</p> - -<p>The saying that a little knowledge is a dangerous -thing is, to my mind, a very dangerous adage. If -knowledge is real and genuine, I do not believe that -it is other than a very valuable possession, however -infinitesimal its quantity may be. Indeed, if a little -knowledge is dangerous, where is the man who has so -much as to be out of danger?</p> - -<p>If William Harvey’s life-long labours had revealed -to him a tenth part of that which may be made -sound and real knowledge to our boys and girls, he -would not only have been what he was, the greatest -physiologist of his age, but he would have loomed -upon the seventeenth century as a sort of intellectual -portent. Our “little knowledge” would have been -to him a great, astounding, unlooked-for vision of -scientific truth.</p> - -<p>I really see no harm which can come of giving our -children a little knowledge of physiology. But then, -as I have said, the instruction must be real, based -upon observation, eked out by good explanatory -diagrams and models, and conveyed by a teacher -whose own knowledge has been acquired by a study<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">92</a></span> -of the facts; and not the mere catechismal parrot-work -which too often usurps the place of elementary -teaching.</p> - -<p>It is, I hope, unnecessary for me to give a formal -contradiction to the silly fiction, which is assiduously -circulated by fanatics who not only ought to know, -but do know, that their assertions are untrue, that I -have advocated the introduction of that experimental -discipline which is absolutely indispensable to the professed -physiologist, into elementary teaching.</p> - -<p>But while I should object to any experimentation -which can justly be called painful, for the purpose of -elementary instruction; and, while, as a member of a -late Royal Commission, I gladly did my best to prevent -the infliction of needless pain, for any purpose; I think -it is my duty to take this opportunity of expressing -my regret at a condition of the law which permits a -boy to troll for pike, or set lines with live frog bait, -for idle amusement; and, at the same time, lays the -teacher of that boy open to the penalty of fine and -imprisonment, if he uses the same animal for the -purpose of exhibiting one of the most beautiful and -instructive of physiological spectacles, the circulation -in the web of the foot. No one could undertake to -affirm that a frog is not inconvenienced by being -wrapped up in a wet rag, and having his toes tied out; -and it cannot be denied that inconvenience is a sort -of pain. But you must not inflict the least pain on a -vertebrated animal for scientific purposes (though you -may do a good deal in that way for gain or for sport) -without due licence of the Secretary of State for the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">93</a></span> -Home Department, granted under the authority of the -Vivisection Act.</p> - -<p>So it comes about, that, in this present year of -grace 1877, two persons may be charged with cruelty -to animals. One has impaled a frog, and suffered the -creature to writhe about in that condition for hours; -the other has pained the animal no more than one of -us would be pained by tying strings round his fingers, -and keeping him in the position of a hydropathic -patient. The first offender says, “I did it because I -find fishing very amusing,” and the magistrate bids -him depart in peace; nay, probably wishes him good -sport. The second pleads, “I wanted to impress a -scientific truth, with a distinctness attainable in no -other way, on the minds of my scholars,” and the -magistrate fines him five pounds.</p> - -<p>I cannot but think that this is an anomalous and -not wholly creditable state of things.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">94</a></span></p> - -<h2>V.<br /><br /> - -JOSEPH PRIESTLEY.</h2> - -<p><span class="smcap">If</span> the man to perpetuate whose memory we have this -day raised a statue had been asked on what part of -his busy life’s work he set the highest value, he would -undoubtedly have pointed to his voluminous contributions -to theology. In season and out of season, he -was the steadfast champion of that hypothesis respecting -the Divine nature which is termed Unitarianism -by its friends and Socinianism by its foes. Regardless -of odds, he was ready to do battle with all comers -in that cause; and if no adversaries entered the lists, -he would sally forth to seek them.</p> - -<p>To this, his highest ideal of duty, Joseph Priestley -sacrificed the vulgar prizes of life, which, assuredly, -were within easy reach of a man of his singular -energy and varied abilities. For this object, he put -aside, as of secondary importance, those scientific investigations -which he loved so well, and in which he -showed himself so competent to enlarge the boundaries -of natural knowledge and to win fame. In this cause, -he not only cheerfully suffered obloquy from the -bigoted and the unthinking, and came within sight of -martyrdom; but bore with that which is much harder<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">95</a></span> -to be borne than all these, the unfeigned astonishment -and hardly disguised contempt of a brilliant society, -composed of men whose sympathy and esteem must -have been most dear to him, and to whom it was simply -incomprehensible that a philosopher should seriously -occupy himself with any form of Christianity.</p> - -<p>It appears to me that the man who, setting before -himself such an ideal of life, acted up to it consistently, -is worthy of the deepest respect, whatever -opinion may be entertained as to the real value of -the tenets which he so zealously propagated and -defended.</p> - -<p>But I am sure that I speak not only for myself, -but for all this assemblage, when I say that our purpose -to-day is to do honour, not to Priestley, the Unitarian -divine, but to Priestley, the fearless defender of -rational freedom in thought and in action: to Priestley, -the philosophic thinker; to that Priestley who held a -foremost place among “the swift runners who hand -over the lamp of life,”<a name="FNanchor_10_10" id="FNanchor_10_10"></a><a href="#Footnote_10_10" class="fnanchor">10</a> and transmit from one generation -to another the fire kindled, in the childhood of -the world, at the Promethean altar of Science.</p> - -<p class="tb">The main incidents of Priestley’s life are so well -known that I need dwell upon them at no great -length.</p> - -<p>Born in 1733, at Fieldhead, near Leeds, and -brought up among Calvinists of the straitest orthodoxy, -the boy’s striking natural ability led to his -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">96</a></span>being devoted to the profession of a minister of religion; -and, in 1752, he was sent to the Dissenting -Academy at Daventry—an institution which authority -left undisturbed, though its existence contravened the -law. The teachers under whose instruction and influence -the young man came at Daventry, carried out -to the letter the injunction to “try all things: hold -fast that which is good,” and encouraged the discussion -of every imaginable proposition with complete -freedom, the leading professors taking opposite sides; -a discipline which, admirable as it may be from a -purely scientific point of view, would seem to be -calculated to make acute, rather than sound, divines. -Priestley tells us, in his “Autobiography,” that he -generally found himself on the unorthodox side: and, -as he grew older, and his faculties attained their -maturity, this native tendency towards heterodoxy -grew with his growth and strengthened with his -strength. He passed from Calvinism to Arianism; -and finally, in middle life, landed in that very -broad form of Unitarianism, by which his craving -after a credible and consistent theory of things was -satisfied.</p> - -<p>On leaving Daventry, Priestley became minister of -a congregation, first at Needham Market, and secondly -at Nantwich; but whether on account of his heterodox -opinions, or of the stuttering which impeded his -expression of them in the pulpit, little success attended -his efforts in this capacity. In 1761, a career much -more suited to his abilities became open to him. He -was appointed “tutor in the languages” in the Dis<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">97</a></span>senting -Academy at Warrington, in which capacity, -besides giving three courses of lectures, he taught -Latin, Greek, French, and Italian, and read lectures -on the Theory of Language and Universal Grammar, -on Oratory, Philosophical Criticism, and Civil law. -And it is interesting to observe that, as a teacher, -he encouraged and cherished in those whom he instructed, -the freedom which he had enjoyed, in his -own student days, at Daventry. One of his pupils tells -us that,</p> - -<div class="blockquot"> - -<p>“At the conclusion of his lecture, he always encouraged his -students to express their sentiments relative to the subject of it, -and to urge any objections to what he had delivered, without -reserve. It pleased him when any one commenced such a conversation. -In order to excite the freest discussion, he occasionally -invited the students to drink tea with him, in order to -canvass the subjects of his lectures. I do not recollect that he -ever showed the least displeasure at the strongest objections -that were made to what he delivered, but I distinctly remember -the smile of approbation with which he usually received them: -nor did he fail to point out, in a very encouraging manner, the -ingenuity or force of any remarks that were made, when they -merited these characters. His object, as well as Dr. Aikin’s, was -to engage the students to examine and decide for themselves, -uninfluenced by the sentiments of any other persons.”<a name="FNanchor_11_11" id="FNanchor_11_11"></a><a href="#Footnote_11_11" class="fnanchor">11</a></p></div> - -<p>It would be difficult to give a better description of a -model teacher than that conveyed in these words.</p> - -<p>From his earliest days, Priestley had shown a -strong bent towards the study of nature; and his -brother Timothy tells us that the boy put spiders -into bottles, to see how long they would live in the -same air—a curious anticipation of the investigations -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">98</a></span>of his later years. At Nantwich, where he set up a -school, Priestley informs us that he bought an air -pump, an electrical machine, and other instruments, -in the use of which he instructed his scholars. But -he does not seem to have devoted himself seriously to -physical science until 1766, when he had the great -good fortune to meet Benjamin Franklin, whose -friendship he ever afterwards enjoyed. Encouraged -by Franklin, he wrote a “History of Electricity,” -which was published in 1767, and appears to have -met with considerable success.</p> - -<p>In the same year, Priestley left Warrington to -become the minister of a congregation at Leeds; -and, here, happening to live next door to a public -brewery, as he says,</p> - -<div class="blockquot"> - -<p>“I, at first, amused myself with making experiments on the -fixed air which I found ready-made in the process of fermentation. -When I removed from that house I was under the necessity -of making fixed air for myself; and one experiment leading to -another, as I have distinctly and faithfully noted in my various -publications on the subject, I by degrees contrived a convenient -apparatus for the purpose, but of the cheapest kind.</p> - -<p>“When I began these experiments I knew very little of -<em>chemistry</em>, and had, in a manner, no idea on the subject before I -attended a course of chemical lectures, delivered in the Academy -at Warrington, by Dr. Turner of Liverpool. But I have often -thought that, upon the whole, this circumstance was no disadvantage -to me; as, in this situation, I was led to devise an -apparatus and processes of my own, adapted to my peculiar -views; whereas, if I had been previously accustomed to the -usual chemical processes, I should not have so easily thought of -any other, and without new modes of operation, I should hardly -have discovered anything materially new.”<a name="FNanchor_12_12" id="FNanchor_12_12"></a><a href="#Footnote_12_12" class="fnanchor">12</a></p></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">99</a></span></p> - -<p>The first outcome of Priestley’s chemical work, -published in 1772, was of a very practical character. -He discovered the way of impregnating water with an -excess of “fixed air,” or carbonic acid, and thereby -producing what we now know as “soda water”—a -service to naturally, and still more to artificially, -thirsty souls, which those whose parched throats and -hot heads are cooled by morning draughts of that -beverage, cannot too gratefully acknowledge. In the -same year, Priestley communicated the extensive -series of observations which his industry and ingenuity -had accumulated, in the course of four years, to the -Royal Society, under the title of “Observations on -Different Kinds of Air”—a memoir which was justly -regarded of so much merit and importance, that the -Society at once conferred upon the author the highest -distinction in their power, by awarding him the Copley -Medal.</p> - -<p>In 1771 a proposal was made to Priestley to accompany -Captain Cook in his second voyage to the -South Seas. He accepted it, and his congregation -agreed to pay an assistant to supply his place during -his absence. But the appointment lay in the hands -of the Board of Longitude, of which certain clergymen -were members; and whether these worthy ecclesiastics -feared that Priestley’s presence among the ship’s company -might expose his Majesty’s Sloop <em>Resolution</em> to -the fate which aforetime befell a certain ship that -went from Joppa to Tarshish; or whether they were -alarmed lest a Socinian should undermine that piety -which, in the days of Commodore Trunnion, so<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">100</a></span> -strikingly characterised sailors, does not appear; but, -at any rate, they objected to Priestley “on account of -his religious principles,” and appointed the two -Forsters, whose “religious principles,” if they had -been known to these well-meaning but not far-sighted -persons, would probably have surprised them.</p> - -<p>In 1772 another proposal was made to Priestley. -Lord Shelburne, desiring a “literary companion,” had -been brought into communication with Priestley by -the good offices of a friend of both, Dr. Price; and -offered him the nominal post of librarian, with a good -house and appointments, and an annuity in case of -the termination of the engagement. Priestley accepted -the offer, and remained with Lord Shelburne -for seven years, sometimes residing at Calne, sometimes -travelling abroad with the Earl.</p> - -<p>Why the connection terminated has never been -exactly known; but it is certain that Lord Shelburne -behaved with the utmost consideration and kindness -towards Priestley; that he fulfilled his engagements -to the letter; and that, at a later period, he expressed -a desire that Priestley should return to his old -footing in his house. Probably enough, the politician, -aspiring to the highest offices in the state, may have -found the position of the protector of a man who was -being denounced all over the country as an infidel -and an atheist somewhat embarrassing. In fact, a -passage in Priestley’s “Autobiography” on the occasion -of the publication of his “Disquisitions relating -to Matter and Spirit,” which took place in 1777, indicates -pretty clearly the state of the case:—</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">101</a></span></p> - -<div class="blockquot"> - -<p>“(126) It being probable that this publication would be unpopular, -and might be the means of bringing odium on my -patron, several attempts were made by his friends, though none -by himself, to dissuade me from persisting in it. But being, as -I thought, engaged in the cause of important truth, I proceeded -without regard to any consequences, assuring them that this -publication should not be injurious to his lordship.”</p></div> - -<p>It is not unreasonable to suppose that his lordship, -as a keen, practical man of the world, did not derive -much satisfaction from this assurance. The “evident -marks of dissatisfaction” which Priestley says he first -perceived in his patron in 1778, may well have arisen -from the peer’s not unnatural uneasiness as to what -his domesticated, but not tamed, philosopher might -write next, and what storm might thereby be brought -down on his own head; and it speaks very highly for -Lord Shelburne’s delicacy that, in the midst of such -perplexities, he made not the least attempt to interfere -with Priestley’s freedom of action. In 1780, however, -he intimated to Dr. Price that he should be glad to -establish Priestley on his Irish estates: the suggestion -was interpreted, as Lord Shelburne probably intended -it should be, and Priestley left him, the annuity of -£150 a year, which had been promised in view of such -a contingency, being punctually paid.</p> - -<p>After leaving Calne, Priestley spent some little -time in London, and then, having settled in Birmingham -at the desire of his brother-in-law, he was soon -invited to become the minister of a large congregation. -This settlement Priestley considered, at the time, to -be “the happiest event of his life.” And well he -might think so; for it gave him competence and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">102</a></span> -leisure; placed him within reach of the best makers of -apparatus of the day; made him a member of that -remarkable “Lunar Society,” at whose meetings he -could exchange thoughts with such men as Watt, -Wedgewood, Darwin, and Boulton; and threw open -to him the pleasant house of the Galtons of Barr, -where these men, and others of less note, formed a -society of exceptional charm and intelligence.<a name="FNanchor_13_13" id="FNanchor_13_13"></a><a href="#Footnote_13_13" class="fnanchor">13</a></p> - -<p>But these halcyon days were ended by a bitter -storm. The French Revolution broke out. An -electric shock ran through the nations; whatever -there was of corrupt and retrograde, and, at the same -time, a great deal of what there was of best and -noblest, in European society shuddered at the outburst -of long-pent-up social fires. Men’s feelings -were excited in a way that we, in this generation, can -hardly comprehend. Party wrath and virulence were -expressed in a manner unparalleled, and it is to be -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">103</a></span>hoped impossible, in our times; and Priestley and his -friends were held up to public scorn, even in Parliament, -as fomenters of sedition. A “Church-and-King” -cry was raised against the Liberal Dissenters; -and, in Birmingham, it was intensified and specially -directed towards Priestley by a local controversy, in -which he had engaged with his usual vigour. In -1791, the celebration of the second anniversary of the -taking of the Bastille by a public dinner, with which -Priestley had nothing whatever to do, gave the signal -to the loyal and pious mob, who, unchecked, and -indeed to some extent encouraged, by those who -were responsible for order, had the town at their -mercy for three days. The chapels and houses of the -leading Dissenters were wrecked, and Priestley and his -family had to fly for their lives, leaving library, apparatus, -papers, and all their possessions, a prey to the -flames.</p> - -<p>Priestley never returned to Birmingham. He bore -the outrages and losses inflicted upon him with extreme -patience and sweetness,<a name="FNanchor_14_14" id="FNanchor_14_14"></a><a href="#Footnote_14_14" class="fnanchor">14</a> and betook himself to -London. But even his scientific colleagues gave him -a cold shoulder; and though he was elected minister -of a congregation at Hackney, he felt his position to -be insecure, and finally determined on emigrating to -the United States. He landed in America in 1794; -lived quietly with his sons at Northumberland, in -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">104</a></span> -Pennsylvania, where his posterity still flourish; and, -clear-headed and busy to the last, died on the 6th of -February 1804.</p> - -<p class="tb">Such were the conditions under which Joseph -Priestley did the work which lay before him, and -then, as the Norse Sagas say, went out of the story. -The work itself was of the most varied kind. No -human interest was without its attraction for Priestley, -and few men have ever had so many irons in the -fire at once; but, though he may have burned his -fingers a little, very few who have tried that operation -have burned their fingers so little. He made -admirable discoveries in science; his philosophical -treatises are still well worth reading; his political -works are full of insight and replete with the spirit of -freedom; and while all these sparks flew off from his -anvil, the controversial hammer rained a hail of blows -on orthodox priest and bishop. While thus engaged, -the kindly, cheerful doctor felt no more wrath or -uncharitableness towards his opponents than a smith -does towards his iron. But if the iron could only -speak!—and the priests and bishops took the point -of view of the iron.</p> - -<p>No doubt what Priestley’s friends repeatedly urged -upon him—that he would have escaped the heavier -trials of his life and done more for the advancement -of knowledge, if he had confined himself to his -scientific pursuits and let his fellow-men go their way—was -true. But it seems to have been Priestley’s -feeling that he was a man and a citizen before he was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">105</a></span> -a philosopher, and that the duties of the two former -positions are at least as imperative as those of the -latter. Moreover, there are men (and I think Priestley -was one of them) to whom the satisfaction of -throwing down a triumphant fallacy is as great as -that which attends the discovery of a new truth; who -feel better satisfied with the government of the world, -when they have been helping Providence by knocking -an imposture on the head; and who care even more -for freedom of thought than for mere advance of -knowledge. These men are the Carnots who organise -victory for truth, and they are, at least, as important -as the generals who visibly fight her battles in the -field.</p> - -<p class="tb">Priestley’s reputation as a man of science rests -upon his numerous and important contributions to -the chemistry of gaseous bodies; and to form a just -estimate of the value of his work—of the extent to -which it advanced the knowledge of fact and the -development of sound theoretical views—we must -reflect what chemistry was in the first half of the -eighteenth century.</p> - -<p>The vast science which now passes under that -name had no existence. Air, water, and fire were -still counted among the elemental bodies; and though -Van Helmont, a century before, had distinguished -different kinds of air as <em lang="la" xml:lang="la">gas ventosum</em> and <em lang="la" xml:lang="la">gas sylvestre</em>, -and Boyle and Hales had experimentally -defined the physical properties of air, and discriminated -some of the various kinds of aëriform bodies,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">106</a></span> -no one suspected the existence of the numerous -totally distinct gaseous elements which are now -known, or dreamed that the air we breathe and the -water we drink are compounds of gaseous elements.</p> - -<p>But, in 1754, a young Scotch physician, Dr. -Black, made the first clearing in this tangled backwood -of knowledge. And it gives one a wonderful -impression of the juvenility of scientific chemistry to -think that Lord Brougham, whom so many of us -recollect, attended Black’s lectures when he was a -student in Edinburgh. Black’s researches gave the -world the novel and startling conception of a gas that -was a permanently elastic fluid like air, but that -differed from common air in being much heavier, very -poisonous, and in having the properties of an acid, -capable of neutralising the strongest alkalies; and it -took the world some time to become accustomed to -the notion.</p> - -<p>A dozen years later, one of the most sagacious -and accurate investigators who has adorned this, or -any other, country, Henry Cavendish, published a -memoir in the “Philosophical Transactions,” in which -he deals not only with the “fixed air” (now called -carbonic acid or carbonic anhydride) of Black, but -with “inflammable air,” or what we now term -hydrogen.</p> - -<p>By the rigorous application of weight and measure -to all his processes, Cavendish implied the belief subsequently -formulated by Lavoisier, that, in chemical -processes, matter is neither created nor destroyed, and -indicated the path along which all future explorers<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">107</a></span> -must travel. Nor did he himself halt until this path -led him, in 1784, to the brilliant and fundamental -discovery that water is composed of two gases united -in fixed and constant proportions.</p> - -<p>It is a trying ordeal for any man to be compared -with Black and Cavendish, and Priestley cannot be -said to stand on their level. Nevertheless, his achievements -are not only great in themselves, but truly -wonderful, if we consider the disadvantages under -which he laboured. Without the careful scientific -training of Black, without the leisure and appliances -secured by the wealth of Cavendish, he scaled the -walls of science as so many Englishmen have done -before and since his day; and trusting to mother wit -to supply the place of training, and to ingenuity to -create apparatus out of washing tubs, he discovered -more new gases than all his predecessors put together -had done. He laid the foundations of gas analysis; -he discovered the complementary actions of animal -and vegetable life upon the constituents of the atmosphere; -and, finally, he crowned his work, this day -one hundred years ago, by the discovery of that -“pure dephlogisticated air” to which the French -chemists subsequently gave the name of oxygen. Its -importance, as the constituent of the atmosphere which -disappears in the processes of respiration and combustion, -and is restored by green plants growing in -sunshine, was proved somewhat later. For these -brilliant discoveries, the Royal Society elected Priestley -a fellow and gave him their medal, while the Academies -of Paris and St. Petersburg conferred their<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">108</a></span> -membership upon him. Edinburgh had made him -an honorary doctor of laws at an early period of his -career; but, I need hardly add, that a man of Priestley’s -opinions received no recognition from the universities -of his own country.</p> - -<p>That Priestley’s contributions to the knowledge of -chemical fact were of the greatest importance, and -that they richly deserve all the praise that has been -awarded to them, is unquestionable; but it must, at -the same time, be admitted that he had no comprehension -of the deeper significance of his work; and, -so far from contributing anything to the theory of the -facts which he discovered, or assisting in their rational -explanation, his influence to the end of his life was -warmly exerted in favour of error. From first to last, -he was a stiff adherent of the phlogiston doctrine -which was prevalent when his studies commenced; -and, by a curious irony of fate, the man who by the -discovery of what he called “dephlogisticated air” -furnished the essential datum for the true theory of -combustion, of respiration, and of the composition of -water, to the end of his days fought against the -inevitable corollaries from his own labours. His last -scientific work, published in 1800, bears the title, -“The Doctrine of Phlogiston established, and that -of the Composition of Water refuted.”</p> - -<p>When Priestley commenced his studies, the current -belief was, that atmospheric air, freed from accidental -impurities, is a simple elementary substance, indestructible -and unalterable, as water was supposed to -be. When a combustible burned, or when an animal<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">109</a></span> -breathed in air, it was supposed that a substance, -“phlogiston,” the matter of heat and light, passed -from the burning or breathing body into it, and -destroyed its powers of supporting life and combustion. -Thus, air contained in a vessel in which a -lighted candle had gone out, or a living animal had -breathed until it could breathe no longer, was called -“phlogisticated.” The same result was supposed to -be brought about by the addition of what Priestley -called “nitrous gas” to common air.</p> - -<p>In the course of his researches, Priestley found -that the quantity of common air which can thus -become “phlogisticated,” amounts to about one-fifth -the volume of the whole quantity submitted to experiment. -Hence it appeared that common air consists, -to the extent of four-fifths of its volume, of air which -is already “phlogisticated;” while the other fifth is -free from phlogiston, or “dephlogisticated.” On the -other hand, Priestley found that air “phlogisticated” -by combustion or respiration could be “dephlogisticated,” -or have the properties of pure common air -restored to it, by the action of green plants in sunshine. -The question, therefore, would naturally arise—as -common air can be wholly phlogisticated by -combustion, and converted into a substance which -will no longer support combustion, is it possible to -get air that shall be less phlogisticated than common -air, and consequently support combustion better than -common air does?</p> - -<p>Now, Priestley says that, in 1774, the possibility -of obtaining air less phlogisticated than common air<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">110</a></span> -had not occurred to him.<a name="FNanchor_15_15" id="FNanchor_15_15"></a><a href="#Footnote_15_15" class="fnanchor">15</a> But in pursuing his -experiments on the evolution of air from various -bodies by means of heat, it happened that, on the 1st -of August 1774, he threw the heat of the sun, by means -of a large burning glass which he had recently obtained, -upon a substance which was then called -<em lang="la" xml:lang="la">mercurius calcinatus per se</em>, and which is commonly -known as red precipitate.</p> - -<div class="blockquot"> - -<p>“I presently found that, by means of this lens, air was -expelled from it very readily. Having got about three or four -times as much as the bulk of my materials, I admitted water to -it, and found that it was not imbibed by it. But what surprised -me more than I can well express, was that a candle burned in -this air with a remarkably vigorous flame, very much like that -enlarged flame with which a candle burns in nitrous air, exposed -to iron or lime of sulphur; but as I had got nothing like this -remarkable appearance from any kind of air besides this particular -modification of nitrous air, and I knew no nitrous acid -was used in the preparation of <i>mercurius calcinatus</i>, I was utterly -at a loss how to account for it.</p> - -<p>“In this case also, though I did not give sufficient attention -to the circumstance at that time, the flame of the candle, besides -being larger, burned with more splendour and heat than in that -species of nitrous air; and a piece of red-hot wood sparkled in -it, exactly like paper dipped in a solution of nitre, and it consumed -very fast—an experiment which I had never thought of -trying with nitrous air.”<a name="FNanchor_16_16" id="FNanchor_16_16"></a><a href="#Footnote_16_16" class="fnanchor">16</a></p></div> - -<p>Priestley obtained the same sort of air from red -lead, but, as he says himself, he remained in ignorance -of the properties of this new kind of air for -seven months, or until March 1775, when he found -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">111</a></span>that the new air behaved with “nitrous gas” in the -same way as the dephlogisticated part of common air -does;<a name="FNanchor_17_17" id="FNanchor_17_17"></a><a href="#Footnote_17_17" class="fnanchor">17</a> but that, instead of being diminished to four-fifths, -it almost completely vanished, and, therefore, -showed itself to be “between five and six times as -good as the best common air I have ever met with.”<a name="FNanchor_18_18" id="FNanchor_18_18"></a><a href="#Footnote_18_18" class="fnanchor">18</a> -As this new air thus appeared to be completely free -from phlogiston, Priestley called it “dephlogisticated -air.”</p> - -<p>What was the nature of this air? Priestley found -that the same kind of air was to be obtained by -moistening with the spirit of nitre (which he terms -nitrous acid) any kind of earth that is free from -phlogiston, and applying heat; and consequently he -says: “There remained no doubt on my mind but -that the atmospherical air, or the thing that we -breathe, consists of the nitrous acid and earth, with -so much phlogiston as is necessary to its elasticity, -and likewise so much more as is required to bring it -from its state of perfect purity to the mean condition -in which we find it.”<a name="FNanchor_19_19" id="FNanchor_19_19"></a><a href="#Footnote_19_19" class="fnanchor">19</a></p> - -<p class="tb">Priestley’s view, in fact, is that atmospheric air is -a kind of saltpetre, in which the potash is replaced -by some unknown earth. And in speculating on the -manner in which saltpetre is formed, he enunciates -the hypothesis, “that nitre is formed by a real -<em>decomposition of the air itself</em>, the <em>bases</em> that are -presented to it having, in such circumstances, a nearer -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">112</a></span>affinity with the spirit of nitre than that kind of earth -with which it is united in the atmosphere.”<a name="FNanchor_20_20" id="FNanchor_20_20"></a><a href="#Footnote_20_20" class="fnanchor">20</a></p> - -<p>It would have been hard for the most ingenious -person to have wandered farther from the truth -than Priestley does in this hypothesis; and, though -Lavoisier undoubtedly treated Priestley very ill, and -pretended to have discovered dephlogisticated air, or -oxygen, as he called it, independently, we can almost -forgive him, when we reflect how different were the -ideas which the great French chemist attached to the -body which Priestley discovered.</p> - -<p>They are like two navigators of whom the first -sees a new country, but takes clouds for mountains -and mirage for lowlands; while the second determines -its length and breadth, and lays down on a -chart its exact place, so that, thenceforth, it serves as -a guide to his successors, and becomes a secure outpost -whence new explorations may be pushed.</p> - -<p>Nevertheless, as Priestley himself somewhere -remarks, the first object of physical science is to -ascertain facts, and the service which he rendered to -chemistry by the definite establishment of a large -number of new and fundamentally important facts, is -such as to entitle him to a very high place among the -fathers of chemical science.</p> - -<p class="tb">It is difficult to say whether Priestley’s philosophical, -political, or theological views were most -responsible for the bitter hatred which was borne to -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">113</a></span>him by a large body of his countrymen,<a name="FNanchor_21_21" id="FNanchor_21_21"></a><a href="#Footnote_21_21" class="fnanchor">21</a> and which -found its expression in the malignant insinuations in -which Burke, to his everlasting shame, indulged in -the House of Commons.</p> - -<p>Without containing much that will be new to -the readers of Hobbes, Spinoza, Collins, Hume, and -Hartley, and, indeed, while making no pretensions -to originality, Priestley’s “Disquisitions relating to -Matter and Spirit,” and his “Doctrine of Philosophical -Necessity illustrated,” are among the most -powerful, clear, and unflinching expositions of materialism -and necessarianism which exist in the English -language, and are still well worth reading.</p> - -<p>Priestley denied the freedom of the will in the -sense of its self-determination; he denied the existence -of a soul distinct from the body; and as a -natural consequence, he denied the natural immortality -of man.</p> - -<p>In relation to these matters English opinion, a -century ago, was very much what it is now.</p> - -<p>A man may be a necessarian without incurring -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">114</a></span>graver reproach than that implied in being called a -gloomy fanatic, necessarianism, though very shocking, -having a note of Calvinistic orthodoxy; but, if a man -is a materialist; or, if good authorities say he is and -must be so, in spite of his assertion to the contrary; -or, if he acknowledge himself unable to see good -reasons for believing in the natural immortality of -man, respectable folks look upon him as an unsafe -neighbour of a cash-box, as an actual or potential -sensualist, the more virtuous in outward seeming, the -more certainly loaded with secret “grave personal -sins.”</p> - -<p>Nevertheless, it is as certain as anything can be, -that Joseph Priestley was no gloomy fanatic, but -as cheerful and kindly a soul as ever breathed, the -idol of children; a man who was hated only by those -who did not know him, and who charmed away the -bitterest prejudices in personal intercourse; a man -who never lost a friend, and the best testimony to -whose worth is the generous and tender warmth with -which his many friends vied with one another in -rendering him substantial help, in all the crises of his -career.</p> - -<p>The unspotted purity of Priestley’s life, the strictness -of his performance of every duty, his transparent -sincerity, the unostentatious and deep-seated piety -which breathes through all his correspondence, are -in themselves a sufficient refutation of the hypothesis, -invented by bigots to cover uncharitableness, that -such opinions as his must arise from moral defects. -And his statue will do as good service as the brazen<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">115</a></span> -image that was set upon a pole before the Israelites, -if those who have been bitten by the fiery serpents of -sectarian hatred, which still haunt this wilderness of -a world, are made whole by looking upon the image -of a heretic, who was yet a saint.</p> - -<p>Though Priestley did not believe in the natural -immortality of man, he held with an almost naïve -realism, that man would be raised from the dead by -a direct exertion of the power of God, and thenceforward -be immortal. And it may be as well for -those who may be shocked by this doctrine to know -that views, substantially identical with Priestley’s, -have been advocated, since his time, by two prelates -of the Anglican Church: by Dr. Whately, Archbishop -of Dublin, in his well-known “Essays;”<a name="FNanchor_22_22" id="FNanchor_22_22"></a><a href="#Footnote_22_22" class="fnanchor">22</a> and by Dr. -Courtenay, Bishop of Kingston in Jamaica, the first -edition of whose remarkable book “On the Future -States,” dedicated to Archbishop Whately, was published -in 1843 and the second in 1857. According -to Bishop Courtenay,</p> - -<div class="blockquot"> - -<p>“The death of the body will cause a cessation of all the -activity of the mind by way of natural consequence; to continue -for ever <span class="smcap lowercase">UNLESS</span> the Creator should interfere.”</p></div> - -<p>And again:—</p> - -<div class="blockquot"> - -<p>“The natural end of human existence is the ‘first death,’ -the dreamless slumber of the grave, wherein man lies spellbound, -soul and body, under the dominion of sin and death—that -whatever modes of conscious existence, whatever future -states of ‘life’ or of ‘torment’ beyond Hades are reserved for -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">116</a></span>man, are results of our blessed Lord’s victory over sin and death; -that the resurrection of the dead must be preliminary to their -entrance into either of the future states, and that the nature and -even existence of these states and even the mere fact that there -is a futurity of consciousness, can be known <em>only</em> through God’s -revelation of Himself in the Person and the Gospel of His -Son.”—P. 389.</p></div> - -<p>And now hear Priestley:—</p> - -<div class="blockquot"> - -<p>“Man, according to this system (of materialism), is no more -than we now see of him. His being commences at the time of -his conception, or perhaps at an earlier period. The corporeal -and mental faculties, in being in the same substance, grow, -ripen, and decay together; and whenever the system is dissolved -it continues in a state of dissolution till it shall please -that Almighty Being who called it into existence to restore it to -life again.”—“Matter and Spirit,” p. 49.</p></div> - -<p>And again:—</p> - -<div class="blockquot"> - -<p>“The doctrine of the Scripture is, that God made man of -the dust of the ground, and by simply animating this organised -matter, made man that living percipient and intelligent being -that he is. According to Revelation, <em>death</em> is a state of rest and -insensibility, and our only though sure hope of a future life is -founded on the doctrine of the resurrection of the whole man at -some distant period; this assurance being sufficiently confirmed -to us both by the evident tokens of a Divine commission attending -the persons who delivered the doctrine, and especially by -the actual resurrection of Jesus Christ, which is more authentically -attested than any other fact in history.”—<i>Ibid.</i>, p. 247.</p></div> - -<p>We all know that “a saint in crape is twice a -saint in lawn;” but it is not yet admitted that the -views which are consistent with such saintliness in -lawn, become diabolical when held by a mere dissenter.<a name="FNanchor_23_23" id="FNanchor_23_23"></a><a href="#Footnote_23_23" class="fnanchor">23</a></p> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">117</a></span></p> -<p>I am not here either to defend or to attack -Priestley’s philosophical views, and I cannot say that -I am personally disposed to attach much value to -episcopal authority in philosophical questions; but it -seems right to call attention to the fact, that those of -Priestley’s opinions which have brought most odium -upon him, have been openly promulgated, without -challenge, by persons occupying the highest positions -in the State Church.</p> - -<p>I must confess that what interests me most about -Priestley’s materialism, is the evidence that he saw -dimly the seed of destruction which such materialism -carries within its own bosom. In the course of his -reading for his “History of Discoveries relating to -Vision, Light, and Colours,” he had come upon the -speculations of Boscovich and Michell, and had been -led to admit the sufficiently obvious truth that our -knowledge of matter is a knowledge of its properties; -and that of its substance—if it have a substance—we -know nothing. And this led to the further admission -that, so far as we can know, there may be no difference -between the substance of matter and the substance -of spirit (“Disquisitions,” p. 16). A step -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">118</a></span>farther would have shown Priestley that his materialism -was, essentially, very little different from the -Idealism of his contemporary, the Bishop of Cloyne.</p> - -<p class="tb">As Priestley’s philosophy is mainly a clear statement -of the views of the deeper thinkers of his day, -so are his political conceptions based upon those of -Locke. Locke’s aphorism that “the end of government -is the good of mankind,” is thus expanded by -Priestley:—</p> - -<div class="blockquot"> - -<p>“It must necessarily be understood, therefore, whether it be -expressed or not, that all people live in society for their mutual -advantage; so that the good and happiness of the members, -that is, of the majority of the members, of any state, is the -great standard by which everything relating to that state must -finally be determined.”<a name="FNanchor_24_24" id="FNanchor_24_24"></a><a href="#Footnote_24_24" class="fnanchor">24</a></p></div> - -<p>The little sentence here interpolated, “that is, of -the majority of the members of any state,” appears to -be that passage which suggested to Bentham, according -to his own acknowledgment, the famous “greatest -happiness” formula, which by substituting “happiness” -for “good,” has converted a noble into an -ignoble principle. But I do not call to mind that -there is any utterance in Locke quite so outspoken as -the following passage in the “Essay on the First -Principles of Government.” After laying down as -“a fundamental maxim in all governments,” the -proposition that “kings, senators, and nobles” are -“the servants of the public,” Priestley goes on to -say:—</p> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">119</a></span></p> -<div class="blockquot"> - -<p>“But in the largest states, if the abuses of the government -should at any time be great and manifest; if the servants of the -people, forgetting their masters and their masters’ interest, -should pursue a separate one of their own; if, instead of considering -that they are made for the people, they should consider -the people as made for them; if the oppressions and violation -of right should be great, flagrant, and universally resented; if -the tyrannical governors should have no friends but a few -sycophants, who had long preyed upon the vitals of their fellow-citizens, -and who might be expected to desert a government -whenever their interests should be detached from it; if, in -consequence of these circumstances, it should become manifest -that the risk which would be run in attempting a revolution -would be trifling, and the evils which might be apprehended -from it were far less than those which were actually suffered -and which were daily increasing; in the name of God, I ask, -what principles are those which ought to restrain an injured and -insulted people from asserting their natural rights, and from -changing or even punishing their governors—that is, their servants—who -had abused their trust, or from altering the whole -form of their government, if it appeared to be of a structure so -liable to abuse?”</p></div> - -<p>As a Dissenter, subject to the operation of the -Corporation and Test Acts, and as a Unitarian, excluded -from the benefit of the Toleration Act, it is -not surprising to find that Priestley had very definite -opinions about Ecclesiastical Establishments; the -only wonder is that these opinions were so moderate -as the following passages show them to have been:—</p> - -<div class="blockquot"> - -<p>“Ecclesiastical authority may have been necessary in the -infant state of society, and, for the same reason, it may perhaps -continue to be, in some degree, necessary as long as society is -imperfect; and therefore may not be entirely abolished till civil -governments have arrived at a much greater degree of perfection. -If, therefore, I were asked whether I should approve of the -immediate dissolution of all the ecclesiastical establishments in -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">120</a></span>Europe, I should answer, No.... Let experiment be first -made of <em>alterations</em>, or, which is the same thing, of <em>better establishments</em> -than the present. Let them be reformed in many essential -articles, and then not thrown aside entirely till it be found by -experience that no good can be made of them.”</p></div> - -<p>Priestley goes on to suggest four such reforms of a -capital nature:—</p> - -<div class="blockquot"> - -<p>“1. Let the Articles of Faith to be subscribed by candidates -for the ministry be greatly reduced. In the formulary of the -Church of England, might not thirty-eight out of the thirty-nine -be very well spared? It is a reproach to any Christian establishment -if every man cannot claim the benefit of it who can say -that he believes in the religion of Jesus Christ as it is set forth -in the New Testament. You say the terms are so general that -even Deists would quibble and insinuate themselves. I answer -that all the articles which are subscribed at present, by no -means exclude Deists who will prevaricate; and upon this -scheme you would at least exclude fewer honest men.”<a name="FNanchor_25_25" id="FNanchor_25_25"></a><a href="#Footnote_25_25" class="fnanchor">25</a></p></div> - -<p>The second reform suggested is the equalisation, -in proportion to work done, of the stipends of the -clergy; the third, the exclusion of the bishops from -Parliament; and the fourth, complete toleration, so -that every man may enjoy the rights of a citizen, and -be qualified to serve his country, whether he belong -to the Established Church or not.</p> - -<p>Opinions such as those I have quoted, respecting -the duties and the responsibilities of governors, are -the commonplaces of modern Liberalism; and Priestley’s -views on Ecclesiastical Establishments would, I -fear, meet with but a cool reception, as altogether too -conservative, from a large proportion of the lineal -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">121</a></span>descendants of the people who taught their children -to cry “Damn Priestley;” and, with that love for the -practical application of science which is the source of -the greatness of Birmingham, tried to set fire to the -doctor’s house with sparks from his own electrical -machine; thereby giving the man they called an -incendiary and raiser of sedition against Church and -King, an appropriately experimental illustration of -the nature of arson and riot.</p> - -<p class="tb">If I have succeeded in putting before you the -main features of Priestley’s work, its value will -become apparent, when we compare the condition -of the English nation, as he knew it, with its present -state.</p> - -<p>The fact that France has been for eighty-five years -trying, without much success, to right herself after -the great storm of the Revolution, is not unfrequently -cited among us, as an indication of some inherent -incapacity for self-government among the French -people. I think, however, that Englishmen who -argue thus, forget that, from the meeting of the Long -Parliament in 1640, to the last Stuart rebellion in -1745, is a hundred and five years, and that, in the -middle of the last century, we had but just safely freed -ourselves from our Bourbons and all that they represented. -The corruption of our state was as bad as -that of the Second Empire. Bribery was the instrument -of government, and peculation its reward. -Four-fifths of the seats in the House of Commons -were more or less openly dealt with as property. A<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">122</a></span> -minister had to consider the state of the vote market, -and the sovereign secured a sufficiency of “king’s -friends” by payments allotted with retail, rather than -royal, sagacity.</p> - -<p>Barefaced and brutal immorality and intemperance -pervaded the land, from the highest to the lowest -classes of society. The Established Church was torpid, -so far as it was not a scandal; but those who dissented -from it came within the meshes of the Act of -Uniformity, the Test Act, and the Corporation Act. -By law, such a man as Priestley, being a Unitarian, -could neither teach nor preach, and was liable to ruinous -fines and long imprisonment.<a name="FNanchor_26_26" id="FNanchor_26_26"></a><a href="#Footnote_26_26" class="fnanchor">26</a> In those days, the -guns that were pointed by the Church against the -Dissenters were shotted. The law was a cesspool of -iniquity and cruelty. Adam Smith was a new prophet -whom few regarded, and commerce was hampered by -idiotic impediments, and ruined by still more absurd -help, on the part of government.</p> - -<p>Birmingham, though already the centre of a considerable -industry, was a mere village as compared -with its present extent. People who travelled went -about armed, by reason of the abundance of highwaymen -and the paucity and inefficiency of the police. -Stage coaches had not reached Birmingham, and it -took three days to get to London. Even canals were -a recent and much opposed invention.</p> - -<p>Newton had laid the foundation of a mechanical -conception of the physical universe: Hartley, putting a -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">123</a></span>modern face upon ancient materialism, had extended -that mechanical conception to psychology; Linnæus -and Haller were beginning to introduce method and -order into the chaotic accumulation of biological facts. -But those parts of physical science which deal with heat, -electricity, and magnetism, and above all, chemistry, -in the modern sense, can hardly be said to have had -an existence. No one knew that two of the old -elemental bodies, air and water, are compounds, and -that a third, fire, is not a substance but a motion. -The great industries that have grown out of the -applications of modern scientific discoveries had no -existence, and the man who should have foretold their -coming into being in the days of his son, would have -been regarded as a mad enthusiast.</p> - -<p>In common with many other excellent persons, -Priestley believed that man is capable of reaching, and -will eventually attain, perfection. If the temperature -of space presented no obstacle, I should be glad to -entertain the same idea; but judging from the past -progress of our species, I am afraid that the globe will -have cooled down so far, before the advent of this -natural millennium, that we shall be, at best, perfected -Esquimaux. For all practical purposes, however, it is -enough that man may visibly improve his condition -in the course of a century or so. And, if the picture -of the state of things in Priestley’s time, which I have -just drawn, have any pretence to accuracy, I think it -must be admitted that there has been a considerable -change for the better.</p> - -<p>I need not advert to the well-worn topic of material<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">124</a></span> -advancement, in a place in which the very stones -testify to that progress—in the town of Watt and of -Boulton. I will only remark, in passing, that material -advancement has its share in moral and intellectual -progress. Becky Sharp’s acute remark that it is not -difficult to be virtuous on ten thousand a year, has its -application to nations; and it is futile to expect a -hungry and squalid population to be anything but -violent and gross. But as regards other than material -welfare, although perfection is not yet in sight—even -from the mast-head—it is surely true that things are -much better than they were.</p> - -<p>Take the upper and middle classes as a whole, and -it may be said that open immorality and gross intemperance -have vanished. Four and six bottle men -are as extinct as the dodo. Women of good repute -do not gamble, and talk modelled upon Dean Swift’s -“Art of Polite Conversation” would be tolerated in -no decent kitchen.</p> - -<p>Members of the legislature are not to be bought; -and constituents are awakening to the fact that votes -must not be sold—even for such trifles as rabbits and -tea and cake. Political power has passed into the -hands of the masses of the people. Those whom -Priestley calls their servants have recognised their -position, and have requested the master to be so good -as to go to school and fit himself for the administration -of his property. No civil disability attaches to any -one on theological grounds, and the highest offices of -the state are open to Papist, Jew, or Secularist.<a name="FNanchor_27_27" id="FNanchor_27_27"></a><a href="#Footnote_27_27" class="fnanchor">27</a></p> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">125</a></span></p> -<p>Whatever men’s opinions as to the policy of Establishment, -no one can hesitate to admit that the clergy -of the Church are men of pure life and conversation, -zealous in the discharge of their duties; and, at present, -apparently, more bent on prosecuting one another -than on meddling with Dissenters. Theology itself -has broadened so much, that Anglican divines put -forward doctrines more liberal than those of Priestley; -and, in our state-supported churches, one listener may -hear a sermon to which Bossuet might have given his -approbation, while another may hear a discourse in -which Socrates would find nothing new.</p> - -<p>But great as these changes may be, they sink into -insignificance beside the progress of physical science, -whether we consider the improvement of methods of -investigation, or the increase in bulk of solid knowledge. -Consider that the labours of Laplace, of -Young, of Davy, and of Faraday; of Cuvier, of -Lamarck, and of Robert Brown; of Von Baer, and of -Schwann; of Smith and of Hutton, have all been -carried on since Priestley discovered oxygen; and -consider that they are now things of the past, concealed -by the industry of those who have built upon -them, as the first founders of a coral reef are hidden -beneath the life’s work of their successors; consider -that the methods of physical science are slowly spreading -into all investigations, and that proofs as valid -as those required by her canons of investigation, -are being demanded of all doctrines which ask for -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">126</a></span>men’s assent; and you will have a faint image of the -astounding difference in this respect between the nineteenth -century and the eighteenth.</p> - -<p>If we ask what is the deeper meaning of all these -vast changes, I think there can be but one reply. -They mean that reason has asserted and exercised her -primacy over all provinces of human activity: that -ecclesiastical authority has been relegated to its proper -place; that the good of the governed has been finally -recognised as the end of government, and the complete -responsibility of governors to the people as its -means; and that the dependence of natural phenomena -in general, on the laws of action of what we call -matter has become an axiom.</p> - -<p>But it was to bring these things about, and to -enforce the recognition of these truths, that Joseph -Priestley laboured. If the nineteenth century is other -and better than the eighteenth, it is, in great measure, -to him and to such men as he, that we owe the change. -If the twentieth century is to be better than the nineteenth, -it will be because there are among us men -who walk in Priestley’s footsteps.</p> - -<p>Such men are not those whom their own generation -delights to honour; such men, in fact, rarely trouble -themselves about honour, but ask, in another spirit -than Falstaff’s, “What is honour? Who hath it? -He that died o’ Wednesday.” But whether Priestley’s -lot be theirs, and a future generation, in justice and -in gratitude, set up their statues; or whether their -names and fame are blotted out from remembrance, -their work will live as long as time endures. To all<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">127</a></span> -eternity, the sum of truth and right will have been -increased by their means; to all eternity, falsehood -and injustice will be the weaker because they have -lived.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">128</a></span></p> - -<h2>VI.<br /><br /> - -ON THE METHOD OF ZADIG:</h2> - -<p class="center">RETROSPECTIVE PROPHECY AS A FUNCTION OF SCIENCE.</p> - -<div class="blockquot"> - -<p class="center">“Une marque plus sûre que toutes celles de Zadig”—<span class="smcap">Cuvier.</span><a name="FNanchor_28_28" id="FNanchor_28_28"></a><a href="#Footnote_28_28" class="fnanchor">28</a></p></div> - -<p><span class="smcap">It</span> is a usual and a commendable practice to preface -the discussion of the views of a philosophic thinker -by some account of the man and of the circumstances -which shaped his life and coloured his way of looking -at things; but, though Zadig is cited in one of the -most important chapters of Cuvier’s greatest work, -little is known about him, and that little might perhaps -be better authenticated than it is.</p> - -<p>It is said that he lived at Babylon in the time of -King Moabdar; but the name of Moabdar does not -appear in the list of Babylonian sovereigns brought -to light by the patience and the industry of the decipherers -of cuneiform inscriptions in these later years; -nor indeed am I aware that there is any other authority -for his existence than that of the biographer of -Zadig, one Arouet de Voltaire, among whose more -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">129</a></span>conspicuous merits strict historical accuracy is perhaps -hardly to be reckoned.</p> - -<p>Happily Zadig is in the position of a great many -other philosophers. What he was like when he was in -the flesh, indeed whether he existed at all, are matters -of no great consequence. What we care about in a -light is that it shows the way, not whether it is lamp -or candle, tallow or wax. Our only real interest in -Zadig lies in the conceptions of which he is the putative -father; and his biographer has stated these with -so much clearness and vivacious illustration, that we -need hardly feel a pang, even if critical research should -prove King Moabdar and all the rest of the story -to be unhistorical, and reduce Zadig himself to the -shadowy condition of a solar myth.</p> - -<p>Voltaire tells us that, disenchanted with life by -sundry domestic misadventures, Zadig withdrew from -the turmoil of Babylon to a secluded retreat on the -banks of the Euphrates, where he beguiled his solitude -by the study of nature. The manifold wonders of the -world of life had a particular attraction for the lonely -student; incessant and patient observation of the -plants and animals about him sharpened his naturally -good powers of observation and of reasoning; until, -at length, he acquired a sagacity which enabled him -to perceive endless minute differences among objects -which, to the untutored eye, appeared absolutely alike.</p> - -<p>It might have been expected that this enlargement -of the powers of the mind and of its store of natural -knowledge could tend to nothing but the increase of -a man’s own welfare and the good of his fellow-men.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">130</a></span> -But Zadig was fated to experience the vanity of such -expectations.</p> - -<div class="blockquot"> - -<p>One day, walking near a little wood, he saw, hastening that -way, one of the Queen’s chief eunuchs, followed by a troop of -officials, who appeared to be in the greatest anxiety, running -hither and thither like men distraught, in search of some lost -treasure.</p> - -<p>“Young man,” cried the eunuch, “have you seen the Queen’s -dog?” Zadig answered modestly, “A bitch, I think, not a dog.” -“Quite right,” replied the eunuch; and Zadig continued, “A very -small spaniel who has lately had puppies; she limps with the -left foreleg, and has very long ears.” “Ah! you have seen her -then,” said the breathless eunuch. “No,” answered Zadig, “I -have not seen her; and I really was not aware that the Queen -possessed a spaniel.”</p> - -<p>By an odd coincidence, at the very same time, the handsomest -horse in the King’s stables broke away from his groom in -the Babylonian plains. The grand huntsman and all his staff -were seeking the horse with as much anxiety as the eunuch and -his people the spaniel; and the grand huntsman asked Zadig if -he had not seen the King’s horse go that way.</p> - -<p>“A first-rate galloper, small-hoofed, five feet high; tail three -feet and a half long; cheek pieces of the bit of twenty-three -carat gold; shoes silver?” said Zadig.</p> - -<p>“Which way did he go? Where is he?” cried the grand -huntsman.</p> - -<p>“I have not seen anything of the horse, and I never heard -of him before,” replied Zadig.</p> - -<p>The grand huntsman and the chief eunuch made sure that -Zadig had stolen both the King’s horse and the Queen’s spaniel, -so they haled him before the High Court of Desterham, which -at once condemned him to the knout, and transportation for life -to Siberia. But the sentence was hardly pronounced when the -lost horse and spaniel were found. So the judges were under -the painful necessity of reconsidering their decision: but they -fined Zadig four hundred ounces of gold for saying he had seen -that which he had not seen.</p> - -<p>The first thing was to pay the fine; afterwards Zadig was -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">131</a></span>permitted to open his defence to the court, which he did in the -following terms:</p> - -<p>“Stars of justice, abysses of knowledge, mirrors of truth, -whose gravity is as that of lead, whose inflexibility is as that of -iron, who rival the diamond in clearness, and possess no little -affinity with gold; since I am permitted to address your august -assembly, I swear by Ormuzd that I have never seen the respectable -lady dog of the queen, nor beheld the sacrosanct horse of -the King of Kings.</p> - -<p>“This is what happened. I was taking a walk towards the -little wood near which I subsequently had the honour to meet -the venerable chief eunuch and the most illustrious grand huntsman. -I noticed the track of an animal in the sand, and it was -easy to see that it was that of a small dog. Long faint streaks -upon the little elevations of sand between the footmarks convinced -me that it was a she dog with pendent dugs, showing -that she must have had puppies not many days since. Other -scrapings of the sand, which always lay close to the marks of the -forepaws, indicated that she had very long ears; and, as the imprint -of one foot was always fainter than those of the other -three, I judged that the lady dog of our august Queen was, if I -may venture to say so, a little lame.</p> - -<p>“With respect to the horse of the King of Kings, permit me -to observe that, wandering through the paths which traverse the -wood, I noticed the marks of horse-shoes. They were all equidistant. -‘Ah!’ said I, ‘this is a famous galloper.’ In a narrow -alley, only seven feet wide, the dust upon the trunks of the trees -was a little disturbed at three feet and a half from the middle -of the path. ‘This horse,’ said I to myself, ‘had a tail three -feet and a half long, and, lashing it from one side to the other, -he has swept away the dust.’ Branches of the trees met overhead -at the height of five feet, and under them I saw newly -fallen leaves; so I knew that the horse had brushed some of the -branches, and was therefore five feet high. As to his bit, it -must have been made of twenty-three carat gold, for he had -rubbed it against a stone, which turned out to be a touchstone, -with the properties of which I am familiar by experiment. -Lastly, by the marks which his shoes left upon pebbles of another -kind, I was led to think that his shoes were of fine silver.”</p> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">132</a></span> -<p>All the judges admired Zadig’s profound and subtle discernment; -and the fame of it reached even the King and the Queen. -From the ante-rooms to the presence-chamber, Zadig’s name was -in everybody’s mouth; and, although many of the magi were of -opinion that he ought to be burnt as a sorcerer, the King commanded -that the four hundred ounces of gold which he had -been fined should be restored to him. So the officers of the -court went in state with the four hundred ounces; only they -retained three hundred and ninety-eight for legal expenses, and -their servants expected fees.</p></div> - -<p>Those who are interested in learning more of the -fateful history of Zadig must turn to the original; -we are dealing with him only as a philosopher, and -this brief excerpt suffices for the exemplification of -the nature of his conclusions and of the method by -which he arrived at them.</p> - -<p>These conclusions may be said to be of the nature -of retrospective prophecies; though it is perhaps a -little hazardous to employ phraseology which perilously -suggests a contradiction in terms—the word -“prophecy” being so constantly in ordinary use restricted -to “foretelling.” Strictly, however, the term -prophecy as much applies to outspeaking as to foretelling; -and, even in the restricted sense of “divination,” -it is obvious that the essence of the prophetic -operation does not lie in its backward or forward -relation to the course of time, but in the fact that it -is the apprehension of that which lies out of the sphere -of immediate knowledge; the seeing of that which to -the natural sense of the seer is invisible.</p> - -<p>The foreteller asserts that, at some future time, a -properly situated observer will witness certain events;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">133</a></span> -the clairvoyant declares that, at this present time, -certain things are to be witnessed a thousand miles -away; the retrospective prophet (would that there -were such a word as “backteller!”) affirms that so -many hours or years ago, such and such things were -to be seen. In all these cases, it is only the relation -to time which alters—the process of divination beyond -the limits of possible direct knowledge remains the -same.</p> - -<p>No doubt it was their instinctive recognition of -the analogy between Zadig’s results and those obtained -by authorised inspiration which inspired the Babylonian -magi with the desire to burn the philosopher. -Zadig admitted that he had never either seen or heard -of the horse of the king or of the spaniel of the queen; -and yet he ventured to assert in the most positive -manner that animals answering to their description -did actually exist, and ran about the plains of Babylon. -If his method was good for the divination of the course -of events ten hours old, why should it not be good for -those of ten years or ten centuries past; nay, might -it not extend to ten thousand years and justify the -impious in meddling with the traditions of Oannes -and the fish, and all the sacred foundations of Babylonian -cosmogony?</p> - -<p>But this was not the worst. There was another -consideration which obviously dictated to the more -thoughtful of the magi the propriety of burning Zadig -out of hand. His defence was worse than his offence. -It showed that his mode of divination was fraught -with danger to magianism in general. Swollen with<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">134</a></span> -the pride of human reason, he had ignored the -established canons of magian lore; and, trusting to -what after all was mere carnal common sense, he professed -to lead men to a deeper insight into nature -than magian wisdom, with all its lofty antagonism to -everything common, had ever reached. What, in fact, -lay at the foundation of all Zadig’s arguments but the -coarse commonplace assumption, upon which every -act of our daily lives is based, that we may conclude -from an effect to the pre-existence of a cause competent -to produce that effect?</p> - -<p>The tracks were exactly like those which dogs -and horses leave; therefore they were the effects of -such animals as causes. The marks at the sides of -the fore prints of the dog track were exactly such as -would be produced by long trailing ears; therefore -the dog’s long ears were the causes of these marks—and -so on. Nothing can be more hopelessly vulgar, -more unlike the majestic development of a system of -grandly unintelligible conclusions from sublimely inconceivable -premisses, such as delights the magian -heart. In fact, Zadig’s method was nothing but the -method of all mankind. Retrospective prophecies, -far more astonishing for their minute accuracy than -those of Zadig, are familiar to those who have watched -the daily life of nomadic people.</p> - -<p>From freshly broken twigs, crushed leaves, disturbed -pebbles, and imprints hardly discernible by the -untrained eye, such graduates in the University of -Nature will divine, not only the fact that a party has -passed that way, but its strength, its composition, the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">135</a></span> -course it took, and the number of hours or days which -have elapsed since it passed. But they are able to do -this because, like Zadig, they perceive endless minute -differences where untrained eyes discern nothing; and -because the unconscious logic of common sense compels -them to account for these effects by the causes -which they know to be competent to produce them.</p> - -<p>And such mere methodised savagery was to discover -the hidden things of nature better than <em>à priori</em> -deductions from the nature of Ormuzd—perhaps to -give a history of the past, in which Oannes would be -altogether ignored! Decidedly it were better to burn -this man at once.</p> - -<p>If instinct, or an unwonted use of reason, led -Moabdar’s magi to this conclusion two or three thousand -years ago, all that can be said is that subsequent history -has fully justified them. For the rigorous application -of Zadig’s logic to the results of accurate and long-continued -observation has founded all those sciences -which have been termed historical or palætiological, -because they are retrospectively prophetic and strive -towards the reconstruction in human imagination of -events which have vanished and ceased to be.</p> - -<p>History, in the ordinary acceptation of the word, is -based upon the interpretation of documentary evidence; -and documents would have no evidential value unless -historians were justified in their assumption that they -have come into existence by the operation of causes -similar to those of which documents are, in our present -experience, the effects. If a written history can be produced -otherwise than by human agency, or if the man<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">136</a></span> -who wrote a given document was actuated by other -than ordinary human motives, such documents are of -no more evidential value than so many arabesques.</p> - -<p>Archæology, which takes up the thread of history -beyond the point at which documentary evidence fails -us, could have no existence, except for our well-grounded -confidence that monuments and works of -art or artifice, have never been produced by causes -different in kind from those to which they now owe -their origin. And geology, which traces back the -course of history beyond the limits of archæology, -could tell us nothing except for the assumption that, -millions of years ago, water, heat, gravitation, friction, -animal and vegetable life, caused effects of the same -kind as they do now. Nay, even physical astronomy, -in so far as it takes us back to the uttermost point of -time which palætiological science can reach, is founded -upon the same assumption. If the law of gravitation -ever failed to be true, even to the smallest extent, for -that period, the calculations of the astronomer have -no application.</p> - -<p>The power of prediction, of prospective prophecy, is -that which is commonly regarded as the great prerogative -of physical science. And truly it is a wonderful -fact that one can go into a shop and buy for small -price a book, the “Nautical Almanac,” which will -foretell the exact position to be occupied by one of -Jupiter’s moons six months hence; nay more, that, -if it were worth while, the Astronomer Royal could -furnish us with as infallible a prediction applicable -to 1980 or 2980.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">137</a></span></p> - -<p>But astronomy is not less remarkable for its power -of retrospective prophecy.</p> - -<p>Thales, oldest of Greek philosophers, the dates of -whose birth and death are uncertain, but who flourished -about 600 <span class="smcap lowercase">B.C.</span>, is said to have foretold an eclipse of the -sun which took place in his time during a battle -between the Medes and the Lydians. Sir George Airy -has written a very learned and interesting memoir<a name="FNanchor_29_29" id="FNanchor_29_29"></a><a href="#Footnote_29_29" class="fnanchor">29</a> in -which he proves that such an eclipse was visible in -Lydia on the afternoon of the 28th of May in the -year 585 <span class="smcap lowercase">B.C.</span></p> - -<p>No one doubts that, on the day and at the hour -mentioned by the Astronomer Royal, the people of -Asia Minor saw the face of the sun totally obscured. -But, though we implicitly believe this retrospective -prophecy, it is incapable of verification. In the -total absence of historical records, it is impossible -even to conceive any means of ascertaining directly -whether the eclipse of Thales happened or not. All -that can be said is, that the prospective prophecies -of the astronomer are always verified; and that, -inasmuch as his retrospective prophecies are the result -of following backwards, the very same method as -that which invariably leads to verified results, when -it is worked forwards, there is as much reason for -placing full confidence in the one as in the other. -Retrospective prophecy is therefore a legitimate function -of astronomical science; and if it is legitimate for -one science it is legitimate for all; the fundamental -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">138</a></span>axiom on which it rests, the constancy of the order of -nature, being the common foundation of all scientific -thought. Indeed, if there can be grades in legitimacy, -certain branches of science have the advantage over -astronomy, in so far as their retrospective prophecies -are not only susceptible of verification, but are sometimes -strikingly verified.</p> - -<p>Such a science exists in that application of the -principles of biology to the interpretation of the animal -and vegetable remains imbedded in the rocks which -compose the surface of the globe, which is called -Palæontology.</p> - -<p>At no very distant time, the question whether -these so-called “fossils” were really the remains of -animals and plants was hotly disputed. Very learned -persons maintained that they were nothing of the -kind, but a sort of concretion, or crystallisation, which -had taken place within the stone in which they are -found; and which simulated the forms of animal and -vegetable life, just as frost on a window-pane imitates -vegetation. At the present day, it would probably be -impossible to find any sane advocate of this opinion; -and the fact is rather surprising, that among the people -from whom the circle-squarers, perpetual-motioners, -flat-earth men and the like, are recruited, to say -nothing of table-turners and spirit-rappers, somebody -has not perceived the easy avenue to nonsensical -notoriety open to any one who will take up the good -old doctrine, that fossils are all <i>lusus naturæ</i>.</p> - -<p>The position would be impregnable, inasmuch as it -is quite impossible to prove the contrary. If a man<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">139</a></span> -choose to maintain that a fossil oyster shell, in spite of -its correspondence, down to every minutest particular, -with that of an oyster fresh taken out of the sea, was -never tenanted by a living oyster, but is a mineral -concretion, there is no demonstrating his error. All -that can be done is to show him that, by a parity of -reasoning, he is bound to admit that a heap of oyster -shells outside a fishmonger’s door may also be “sports -of nature,” and that a mutton bone in a dust-bin may -have had the like origin. And when you cannot prove -that people are wrong, but only that they are absurd, -the best course is to let them alone.</p> - -<p>The whole fabric of palæontology, in fact, falls to -the ground unless we admit the validity of Zadig’s -great principle, that like effects imply like causes; and -that the process of reasoning from a shell, or a tooth, -or a bone, to the nature of the animal to which it -belonged, rests absolutely on the assumption that the -likeness of this shell, or tooth, or bone, to that of some -animal with which we are already acquainted, is such -that we are justified in inferring a corresponding -degree of likeness in the rest of the two organisms. -It is on this very simple principle, and not upon -imaginary laws of physiological correlation, about -which, in most cases, we know nothing whatever, that -the so-called restorations of the palæontologist are -based.</p> - -<p>Abundant illustrations of this truth will occur to -every one who is familiar with palæontology; none is -more suitable than the case of the so-called <i>Belemnites</i>. -In the early days of the study of fossils, this name was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">140</a></span> -given to certain elongated stony bodies, ending at -one extremity in a conical point, and truncated at the -other, which were commonly reputed to be thunderbolts, -and as such to have descended from the sky. -They are common enough in some parts of England; -and, in the condition in which they are ordinarily -found, it might be difficult to give satisfactory reasons -for denying them to be merely mineral bodies.</p> - -<p>They appear, in fact, to consist of nothing but -concentric layers of carbonate of lime, disposed in -subcrystalline fibres, or prisms, perpendicular to the -layers. Among a great number of specimens of these -Belemnites, however, it was soon observed that some -showed a conical cavity at the blunt end; and, in still -better preserved specimens, this cavity appeared to -be divided into chambers by delicate saucer-shaped -partitions, situated at regular intervals one above the -other. Now there is no mineral body which presents -any structure comparable to this, and the conclusion -suggested itself that the Belemnites must be the effects -of causes other than those which are at work in -inorganic nature. On close examination, the saucer-shaped -partitions were proved to be all perforated at -one point, and the perforations being situated exactly -in the same line, the chambers were seen to be -traversed by a canal, or <i>siphuncle</i>, which thus connected -the smallest or apical chamber with the largest. -There is nothing like this in the vegetable world; but -an exactly corresponding structure is met with in the -shells of two kinds of existing animals, the pearly -<i>Nautilus</i> and the <i>Spirula</i>, and only in them. These<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">141</a></span> -animals belong to the same division—the <i>Cephalopoda</i>—as -the cuttle-fish, the squid, and the octopus. But -they are the only existing members of the group which -possess chambered, siphunculated shells; and it is -utterly impossible to trace any physiological connection -between the very peculiar structural characters of -a cephalopod and the presence of a chambered shell. -In fact, the squid has, instead of any such shell, a -horny “pen,” the cuttle-fish has the so-called “cuttle-bone,” -and the octopus has no shell, or, at most, a mere -rudiment of one.</p> - -<p>Nevertheless, seeing that there is nothing in nature -at all like the chambered shell of the Belemnite, -except the shells of the <i>Nautilus</i> and of the <i>Spirula</i>, -it was legitimate to prophesy that the animal from -which the fossil proceeded must have belonged to the -group of the <i>Cephalopoda</i>. <i>Nautilus</i> and <i>Spirula</i> are -both very rare animals, but the progress of investigation -brought to light the singular fact, that, though -each has the characteristic cephalopodous organisation, -it is very different from the other. The shell of <i>Nautilus</i> -is external, that of <i>Spirula</i> internal; <i>Nautilus</i> has -four gills, <i>Spirula</i> two; <i>Nautilus</i> has multitudinous -tentacles, <i>Spirula</i> has only ten arms beset with horny -rimmed suckers; <i>Spirula</i>, like the squids and cuttle-fishes, -which it closely resembles, has a bag of ink -which it squirts out to cover its retreat when alarmed; -<i>Nautilus</i> has none.</p> - -<p>No amount of physiological reasoning could enable -any one to say whether the animal which fabricated -the Belemnite was more like <i>Nautilus</i>, or more like<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">142</a></span> -<i>Spirula</i>. But the accidental discovery of Belemnites -in due connection with black elongated masses which -were certainly fossilised ink-bags, inasmuch as the -ink could be ground up and used for painting as well -as if it were recent sepia, settled the question; and it -became perfectly safe to prophesy that the creature -which fabricated the Belemnite was a two-gilled -cephalopod with suckers on its arms, and with all the -other essential features of our living squids, cuttle-fishes, -and <i>Spirulæ</i>. The palæontologist was, by this -time, able to speak as confidently about the animal of -the Belemnite, as Zadig was respecting the queen’s -spaniel. He could give a very fair description of its -external appearance, and even enter pretty fully into -the details of its internal organisation, and yet could -declare that neither he, nor any one else, had ever -seen one. And as the queen’s spaniel was found, so -happily has the animal of the Belemnite; a few -exceptionally preserved specimens having been discovered, -which completely verify the retrospective -prophecy of those who interpreted the facts of the case -by due application of the method of Zadig.</p> - -<p>These Belemnites flourished in prodigious abundance -in the seas of the mesozoic or secondary age of -the world’s geological history; but no trace of them -has been found in any of the tertiary deposits, and -they appear to have died out towards the close of the -mesozoic epoch. The method of Zadig, therefore, -applies in full force to the events of a period which is -immeasurably remote, which long preceded the origin -of the most conspicuous mountain masses of the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">143</a></span> -present world, and the deposition, at the bottom of -the ocean, of the rocks which form the greater part of -the soil of our present continents. The Euphrates -itself, at the mouth of which Oannes landed, is a thing -of yesterday compared with a Belemnite; and even -the liberal chronology of Magian cosmogony fixes the -beginning of the world only at a time when other -applications of Zadig’s method afford convincing evidence -that, could we have been there to see, things -would have looked very much as they do now. Truly -the magi were wise in their generation; they foresaw -rightly that this pestilent application of the principles -of common sense, inaugurated by Zadig, would be -their ruin.</p> - -<p>But it may be said that the method of Zadig, -which is simple reasoning from analogy, does not -account for the most striking feats of modern palæontology—the -reconstruction of entire animals from a -tooth or perhaps a fragment of a bone; and it may be -justly urged that Cuvier, the great master of this kind -of investigation, gave a very different account of the -process which yielded such remarkable results.</p> - -<p>Cuvier is not the first man of ability who has failed -to make his own mental processes clear to himself, -and he will not be the last. The matter can be easily -tested. Search the eight volumes of the “Recherches -sur les Ossemens fossiles” from cover to cover, and -nothing but the application of the method of Zadig -will be found in the arguments by which a fragment -of a skeleton is made to reveal the characters of the -animal to which it belonged.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">144</a></span></p> - -<p>There is one well-known case which may represent -all. It is an excellent illustration of Cuvier’s sagacity, -and he evidently takes some pride in telling his story -about it. A split slab of stone arrived from the -quarries of Montmartre, the two halves of which contained -the greater part of the skeleton of a small -animal. On careful examinations of the characters of -the teeth and of the lower jaw, which happened to be -exposed, Cuvier assured himself that they presented -such a very close resemblance to the corresponding -parts in the living opossums that he at once assigned -the fossil to that genus.</p> - -<p>Now the opossums are unlike most mammals in -that they possess two bones attached to the fore part -of the pelvis, which are commonly called “marsupial -bones.” The name is a misnomer, originally conferred -because it was thought that these bones have something -to do with the support of the pouch, or marsupium, -with which some, but not all, of the opossums -are provided. As a matter of fact, they have nothing -to do with the support of the pouch, and they exist -as much in those opossums which have no pouches as -in those which possess them. In truth, no one knows -what the use of these bones may be, nor has any valid -theory of their physiological import yet been suggested. -And if we have no knowledge of the physiological -importance of the bones themselves, it is obviously -absurd to pretend that we are able to give physiological -reasons why the presence of these bones is associated -with certain peculiarities of the teeth and of the jaws. -If any one knows why four molar teeth and an in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">145</a></span>flected -angle of the jaw are very generally found along -with marsupial bones, he has not yet communicated -that knowledge to the world.</p> - -<p>If, however, Zadig was right in concluding from -the likeness of the hoof-prints which he observed to a -horse’s that the creature which made them had a tail -like that of a horse, Cuvier, seeing that the teeth and -jaw of his fossil were just like those of an opossum, -had the same right to conclude that the pelvis would -also be like an opossum’s; and so strong was his -conviction that this retrospective prophecy, about an -animal which he had never seen before, and which -had been dead and buried for millions of years, would -be verified, that he went to work upon the slab which -contained the pelvis in confident expectation of finding -and laying bare the “marsupial bones,” to the satisfaction -of some persons whom he had invited to -witness their disinterment. As he says:—“Cette -opération se fit en présence de quelques personnes -à qui j’en avais annoncé d’avance le résultat, dans -l’intention de leur prouver par le fait la justice de nos -théories zoologiques; puisque le vrai cachet d’une -théorie est sans contredit la faculté qu’elle donne de -prévoir les phénomènes.”</p> - -<p>In the “Ossemens fossiles” Cuvier leaves his paper -just as it first appeared in the “Annales du Muséum,” -as “a curious monument of the force of zoological laws -and of the use which may be made of them.”</p> - -<p>Zoological laws truly, but not physiological laws. -If one sees a live dog’s head, it is extremely probable -that a dog’s tail is not far off, though nobody can say<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">146</a></span> -why that sort of head and that sort of tail go together; -what physiological connection there is between the -two. So, in the case of the Montmartre fossil, Cuvier, -finding a thorough opossum’s head, concluded that the -pelvis also would be like an opossum’s. But, most -assuredly, the most advanced physiologist of the -present day could throw no light on the question why -these are associated, nor could pretend to affirm that -the existence of the one is necessarily connected with -that of the other. In fact, had it so happened that -the pelvis of the fossil had been originally exposed, -while the head lay hidden, the presence of the “marsupial -bones,” however like they might have been to -an opossum’s, would by no means have warranted the -prediction that the skull would turn out to be that of -the opossum. It might just as well have been like -that of some other Marsupial; or even like that of -the totally different group of Monotremes, of which -the only living representatives are the <i>Echidna</i> and -the <i>Ornithorhynchus</i>.</p> - -<p>For all practical purposes, however, the empirical -laws of co-ordination of structures, which are embodied -in the generalisations of morphology, may be confidently -trusted, if employed with due caution, to lead -to a just interpretation of fossil remains; or, in other -words, we may look for the verification of the retrospective -prophecies which are based upon them.</p> - -<p>And if this be the case, the late advances which -have been made in palæontological discovery open -out a new field for such prophecies. For it has been -ascertained with respect to many groups of animals,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">147</a></span> -that, as we trace them back in time, their ancestors -gradually cease to exhibit those special modifications -which at present characterise the type, and more nearly -embody the general plan of the group to which they -belong.</p> - -<p>Thus, in the well-known case of the horse, the -toes which are suppressed in the living horse are found -to be more and more complete in the older members -of the group, until, at the bottom of the Tertiary -series of America, we find an equine animal which has -four toes in front and three behind. No remains of -the horse tribe are at present known from any Mesozoic -deposit. Yet who can doubt that, whenever a sufficiently -extensive series of lacustrine and fluviatile -beds of that age becomes known, the lineage which -has been traced thus far will be continued by equine -quadrupeds with an increasing number of digits, until -the horse type merges in the five-toed form towards -which these gradations point?</p> - -<p>But the argument which holds good for the horse, -holds good, not only for all mammals, but for the -whole animal world. And as the study of the pedigrees, -or lines of evolution, to which, at present, we -have access, brings to light, as it assuredly will do, -the laws of that process, we shall be able to reason -from the facts with which the geological record -furnishes us to those which have hitherto remained, -and many of which, perhaps, may for ever remain, -hidden. The same method of reasoning which enables -us, when furnished with a fragment of an extinct -animal, to prophesy the character which the whole<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">148</a></span> -organism exhibited, will, sooner or later, enable us, -when we know a few of the later terms of a genealogical -series, to predict the nature of the earlier -terms.</p> - -<p>In no very distant future, the method of Zadig, -applied to a greater body of facts than the present -generation is fortunate enough to handle, will enable -the biologist to reconstruct the scheme of life from its -beginning, and to speak as confidently of the character -of long extinct living beings, no trace of which has -been preserved, as Zadig did of the queen’s spaniel -and the king’s horse. Let us hope that they may be -better rewarded for their toil and their sagacity than -was the Babylonian philosopher; for perhaps, by that -time, the Magi also may be reckoned among the -members of a forgotten Fauna, extinguished in the -struggle for existence against their great rival, common -sense.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">149</a></span></p> - -<h2>VII.<br /><br /> - -ON THE BORDER TERRITORY BETWEEN -THE ANIMAL AND THE VEGETABLE -KINGDOMS.</h2> - -<p><span class="smcap">In</span> the whole history of science there is nothing more -remarkable than the rapidity of the growth of biological -knowledge within the last half-century, and -the extent of the modification which has thereby been -effected in some of the fundamental conceptions of -the naturalist.</p> - -<p>In the second edition of the “<span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">Règne Animal,</span>” -published in 1828, Cuvier devotes a special section to -the “Division of Organised Beings into Animals and -Vegetables,” in which the question is treated with that -comprehensiveness of knowledge and clear critical -judgment which characterise his writings, and justify -us in regarding them as representative expressions of -the most extensive, if not the profoundest, knowledge -of his time. He tells us that living beings have -been subdivided from the earliest times into <em>animated -beings</em>, which possess sense and motion, and <em>inanimated -beings</em>, which are devoid of these functions, -and simply vegetate.</p> - -<p>Although the roots of plants direct themselves to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">150</a></span>wards -moisture, and their leaves towards air and -light,—although the parts of some plants exhibit -oscillating movements without any perceptible cause, -and the leaves of others retract when touched,—yet -none of these movements justify the ascription to -plants of perception or of will. From the mobility of -animals, Cuvier, with his characteristic partiality for -teleological reasoning, deduces the necessity of the -existence in them of an alimentary cavity, or reservoir -of food, whence their nutrition may be drawn by the -vessels, which are a sort of internal roots; and, in -the presence of this alimentary cavity, he naturally -sees the primary and the most important distinction -between animals and plants.</p> - -<p>Following out his teleological argument, Cuvier -remarks that the organisation of this cavity and its -appurtenances must needs vary according to the nature -of the aliment, and the operations which it has to -undergo, before it can be converted into substances -fitted for absorption; while the atmosphere and the -earth supply plants with juices ready prepared, and -which can be absorbed immediately. As the animal -body required to be independent of heat and of the -atmosphere, there were no means by which the motion -of its fluids could be produced by internal causes. -Hence arose the second great distinctive character of -animals, or the circulatory system, which is less important -than the digestive, since it was unnecessary, -and therefore is absent, in the more simple animals.</p> - -<p>Animals further needed muscles for locomotion -and nerves for sensibility. Hence, says Cuvier, it<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">151</a></span> -was necessary that the chemical composition of the -animal body should be more complicated than that of -the plant; and it is so, inasmuch as an additional -substance, nitrogen, enters into it as an essential -element; while, in plants, nitrogen is only accidentally -joined with the three other fundamental constituents -of organic beings—carbon, hydrogen, and oxygen. -Indeed, he afterwards affirms that nitrogen is peculiar -to animals; and herein he places the third distinction -between the animal and the plant. The soil and the -atmosphere supply plants with water, composed of -hydrogen and oxygen; air, consisting of nitrogen and -oxygen; and carbonic acid, containing carbon and -oxygen. They retain the hydrogen and the carbon, -exhale the superfluous oxygen, and absorb little or -no nitrogen. The essential character of vegetable -life is the exhalation of oxygen, which is effected -through the agency of light. Animals, on the contrary, -derive their nourishment either directly or -indirectly from plants. They get rid of the superfluous -hydrogen and carbon, and accumulate nitrogen. -The relations of plants and animals to the atmosphere -are therefore inverse. The plant withdraws -water and carbonic acid from the atmosphere, the -animal contributes both to it. Respiration—that is, -the absorption of oxygen and the exhalation of carbonic -acid—is the specially animal function of -animals, and constitutes their fourth distinctive -character.</p> - -<p>Thus wrote Cuvier in 1828. But, in the fourth -and fifth decades of this century, the greatest and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">152</a></span> -most rapid revolution which biological science has -ever undergone was effected by the application of the -modern microscope to the investigation of organic -structure; by the introduction of exact and easily -manageable methods of conducting the chemical -analysis of organic compounds; and finally, by the -employment of instruments of precision for the measurement -of the physical forces which are at work in -the living economy.</p> - -<p>That the semi-fluid contents (which we now term -protoplasm) of the cells of certain plants, such as the -<i>Charæ</i>, are in constant and regular motion, was made -out by Bonaventura Corti a century ago; but the fact, -important as it was, fell into oblivion, and had to be -rediscovered by Treviranus in 1807. Robert Brown -noted the more complex motions of the protoplasm in -the cells of <i>Tradescantia</i> in 1831; and now such -movements of the living substance of plants are well -known to be some of the most widely-prevalent phenomena -of vegetable life.</p> - -<p>Agardh, and other of the botanists of Cuvier’s -generation, who occupied themselves with the lower -plants, had observed that, under particular circumstances, -the contents of the cells of certain water-weeds -were set free, and moved about with considerable -velocity, and with all the appearances of spontaneity, -as locomotive bodies, which, from their similarity to -animals of simple organisation, were called “zoospores.” -Even as late as 1845, however, a botanist of -Schleiden’s eminence dealt very sceptically with these -statements; and his scepticism was the more justified,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">153</a></span> -since Ehrenberg, in his elaborate and comprehensive -work on the <i>Infusoria</i>, had declared the greater number -of what are now recognised as locomotive plants -to be animals.</p> - -<p>At the present day, innumerable plants and free -plant cells are known to pass the whole or part of -their lives in an actively locomotive condition, in no -wise distinguishable from that of one of the simpler -animals; and, while in this condition, their movements -are, to all appearance, as spontaneous—as -much the product of volition—as those of such -animals.</p> - -<p>Hence the teleological argument for Cuvier’s first -diagnostic character—the presence in animals of an -alimentary cavity, or internal pocket, in which they -can carry about their nutriment—has broken down, -so far, at least, as his mode of stating it goes. And, -with the advance of microscopic anatomy, the universality -of the fact itself among animals has ceased to -be predicable. Many animals of even complex structure, -which live parasitically within others, are wholly -devoid of an alimentary cavity. Their food is provided -for them, not only ready cooked, but ready -digested, and the alimentary canal, become superfluous, -has disappeared. Again, the males of most -Rotifers have no digestive apparatus; as a German -naturalist has remarked, they devote themselves entirely -to the “Minnedienst,” and are to be reckoned -among the few realisations of the Byronic ideal of a -lover. Finally, amidst the lowest forms of animal life, -the speck of gelatinous protoplasm, which constitutes<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">154</a></span> -the whole body, has no permanent digestive cavity or -mouth, but takes in its food anywhere; and digests, -so to speak, all over its body.</p> - -<p>But although Cuvier’s leading diagnosis of the -animal from the plant will not stand a strict test, it -remains one of the most constant of the distinctive -characters of animals. And, if we substitute for the -possession of an alimentary cavity, the power of taking -solid nutriment into the body and there digesting -it, the definition so changed will cover all animals, -except certain parasites, and the few and exceptional -cases of non-parasitic animals which do not feed at -all. On the other hand, the definition thus amended -will exclude all ordinary vegetable organisms.</p> - -<p>Cuvier himself practically gives up his second -distinctive mark when he admits that it is wanting in -the simpler animals.</p> - -<p>The third distinction is based on a completely -erroneous conception of the chemical differences and -resemblances between the constituents of animal and -vegetable organisms, for which Cuvier is not responsible, -as it was current among contemporary -chemists. It is now established that nitrogen is as -essential a constituent of vegetable as of animal living -matter; and that the latter is, chemically speaking, -just as complicated as the former. Starchy substances, -cellulose and sugar, once supposed to be exclusively -confined to plants, are now known to be regular and -normal products of animals. Amylaceous and saccharine -substances are largely manufactured, even by -the highest animals; cellulose is widespread as a con<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">155</a></span>stituent -of the skeletons of the lower animals; and it -is probable that amyloid substances are universally -present in the animal organism, though not in the -precise form of starch.</p> - -<p>Moreover, although it remains true that there is -an inverse relation between the green plant in sunshine -and the animal, in so far as, under these circumstances, -the green plant decomposes carbonic acid and -exhales oxygen, while the animal absorbs oxygen and -exhales carbonic acid; yet, the exact researches of -the modern chemical investigators of the physiological -processes of plants have clearly demonstrated the -fallacy of attempting to draw any general distinction -between animals and vegetables on this ground. In -fact, the difference vanishes with the sunshine, even in -the case of the green plant; which, in the dark, -absorbs oxygen and gives out carbonic acid like any -animal.<a name="FNanchor_30_30" id="FNanchor_30_30"></a><a href="#Footnote_30_30" class="fnanchor">30</a> On the other hand, those plants, such as the -fungi, which contain no chlorophyll and are not green, -are always, so far as respiration is concerned, in the -exact position of animals. They absorb oxygen and -give out carbonic acid.</p> - -<p>Thus, by the progress of knowledge, Cuvier’s -fourth distinction between the animal and the plant -has been as completely invalidated as the third and -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">156</a></span>second; and even the first can be retained only in a -modified form and subject to exceptions.</p> - -<p>But has the advance of biology simply tended to -break down old distinctions, without establishing new -ones?</p> - -<p>With a qualification, to be considered presently, the -answer to this question is undoubtedly in the affirmative. -The famous researches of Schwann and Schleiden -in 1837 and the following years, founded the -modern science of histology, or that branch of anatomy -which deals with the ultimate visible structure of -organisms, as revealed by the microscope; and, from -that day to this, the rapid improvement of methods of -investigation, and the energy of a host of accurate -observers, have given greater and greater breadth and -firmness to Schwann’s great generalisation, that a -fundamental unity of structure obtains in animals and -plants; and that, however diverse may be the fabrics, -or <em>tissues</em>, of which their bodies are composed, all -these varied structures result from the metamorphosis -of morphological units (termed <em>cells</em>, in a more general -sense than that in which the word “cells” was at first -employed), which are not only similar in animals and -in plants respectively, but present a close resemblance, -when those of animals and those of plants are compared -together.</p> - -<p>The contractility which is the fundamental condition -of locomotion, has not only been discovered to -exist far more widely among plants than was formerly -imagined; but, in plants, the act of contraction has -been found to be accompanied, as Dr. Burdon Sander<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">157</a></span>son’s -interesting investigations have shown, by a -disturbance of the electrical state of the contractile -substance, comparable to that which was found by Du -Bois Reymond to be a concomitant of the activity of -ordinary muscle in animals.</p> - -<p>Again, I know of no test by which the reaction -of the leaves of the Sundew and of other plants to -stimuli, so fully and carefully studied by Mr. Darwin, -can be distinguished from those acts of contraction -following upon stimuli, which are called “reflex” in -animals.</p> - -<p>On each lobe of the bilobed leaf of Venus’s fly trap -(<i>Dionæa muscipula</i>) are three delicate filaments which -stand out at right angle from the surface of the leaf. -Touch one of them with the end of a fine human hair -and the lobes of the leaf instantly close together<a name="FNanchor_31_31" id="FNanchor_31_31"></a><a href="#Footnote_31_31" class="fnanchor">31</a> in -virtue of an act of contraction of part of their substance, -just as the body of a snail contracts into its -shell when one of its “horns” is irritated.</p> - -<p>The reflex action of the snail is the result of the -presence of a nervous system in the animal. A molecular -change takes place in the nerve of the tentacle, -is propagated to the muscles by which the body is -retracted, and causing them to contract, the act of -retraction is brought about. Of course the similarity -of the acts does not necessarily involve the conclusion -that the mechanism by which they are effected is the -same; but it suggests a suspicion of their identity -which needs careful testing.</p> - -<p>The results of recent inquiries into the structure of -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">158</a></span>the nervous system of animals converge towards the -conclusion that the nerve fibres, which we have -hitherto regarded as ultimate elements of nervous -tissue, are not such, but are simply the visible aggregations -of vastly more attenuated filaments, the diameter -of which dwindles down to the limits of our present -microscopic vision, greatly as these have been extended -by modern improvements of the microscope; and -that a nerve is, in its essence, nothing but a linear -tract of specially modified protoplasm between two -points of an organism—one of which is able to affect -the other by means of the communication so established. -Hence, it is conceivable that even the simplest -living being may possess a nervous system. And the -question whether plants are provided with a nervous -system or not, thus acquires a new aspect, and -presents the histologist and physiologist with a -problem of extreme difficulty, which must be attacked -from a new point of view and by the aid of methods -which have yet to be invented.</p> - -<p>Thus it must be admitted that plants may be -contractile and locomotive; that, while locomotive, -their movements may have as much appearance of -spontaneity as those of the lowest animals; and that -many exhibit actions, comparable to those which are -brought about by the agency of a nervous system in -animals. And it must be allowed to be possible that -further research may reveal the existence of something -comparable to a nervous system in plants. So that I -know not where we can hope to find any absolute -distinction between animals and plants, unless we<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">159</a></span> -return to their mode of nutrition, and inquire whether -certain differences of a more occult character than -those imagined to exist by Cuvier, and which certainly -hold good for the vast majority of animals and plants, -are of universal application.</p> - -<p>A bean may be supplied with water in which salts of -ammonia and certain other mineral salts are dissolved -in due proportion; with atmospheric air containing its -ordinary minute dose of carbonic acid; and with -nothing else but sunlight and heat. Under these -circumstances, unnatural as they are, with proper -management, the bean will thrust forth its radicle -and its plumule; the former will grow down into -roots, the latter grow up into the stem and leaves of -a vigorous bean plant; and this plant will, in due -time, flower and produce its crop of beans, just as if it -were grown in the garden or in the field.</p> - -<p>The weight of the nitrogenous protein compounds, -of the oily, starchy, saccharine and woody substances -contained in the full-grown plant and its seeds, will -be vastly greater than the weight of the same substances -contained in the bean from which it sprang. -But nothing has been supplied to the bean save water, -carbonic acid, ammonia, potash, lime, iron, and the like, -in combination with phosphoric, sulphuric, and other -acids. Neither protein, nor fat, nor starch, nor sugar, -nor any substance in the slightest degree resembling -them, has formed part of the food of the bean. But -the weights of the carbon, hydrogen, oxygen, nitrogen, -phosphorus, sulphur, and other elementary bodies -contained in the bean-plant, and in the seeds which<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">160</a></span> -it produces, are exactly equivalent to the weights of -the same elements which have disappeared from the -materials supplied to the bean during its growth. -Whence it follows that the bean has taken in only the -raw materials of its fabric, and has manufactured them -into bean stuffs.</p> - -<p>The bean has been able to perform this great -chemical feat by the help of its green colouring matter, -or chlorophyll; for it is only the green parts of the -plant which, under the influence of sunlight, have -the marvellous power of decomposing carbonic acid, -setting free the oxygen and laying hold of the carbon -which it contains. In fact, the bean obtains two of the -absolutely indispensable elements of its substance from -two distinct sources; the watery solution, in which -its roots are plunged, contains nitrogen but no carbon; -the air, to which the leaves are exposed, contains -carbon, but its nitrogen is in the state of a free gas, -in which condition the bean can make no use of it;<a name="FNanchor_32_32" id="FNanchor_32_32"></a><a href="#Footnote_32_32" class="fnanchor">32</a> -and the chlorophyll<a name="FNanchor_33_33" id="FNanchor_33_33"></a><a href="#Footnote_33_33" class="fnanchor">33</a> is the apparatus by which the -carbon is extracted from the atmospheric carbonic -acid—the leaves being the chief laboratories in which -this operation is effected.</p> - -<p>The great majority of conspicuous plants are, as -everybody knows, green; and this arises from the -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">161</a></span>abundance of their chlorophyll. The few which -contain no chlorophyll and are colourless, are unable -to extract the carbon which they require from atmospheric -carbonic acid, and lead a parasitic existence -upon other plants; but it by no means follows, often -as the statement has been repeated, that the manufacturing -power of plants depends on their chlorophyll, -and its interaction with the rays of the sun. On the -contrary, it is easily demonstrated, as Pasteur first -proved, that the lowest fungi, devoid of chlorophyll, -or of any substitute for it, as they are, nevertheless -possess the characteristic manufacturing powers of -plants in a very high degree. Only it is necessary -that they should be supplied with a different kind of -raw material; as they cannot extract carbon from -carbonic acid, they must be furnished with something -else that contains carbon. Tartaric acid is such a -substance; and if a single spore of the commonest and -most troublesome of moulds—<i>Penicillium</i>—be sown -in a saucerful of water, in which tartrate of ammonia, -with a small percentage of phosphates and sulphates -is contained, and kept warm, whether in the dark or -exposed to light, it will, in a short time, give rise to a -thick crust of mould, which contains many million -times the weight of the original spore, in protein -compounds and cellulose. Thus we have a very wide -basis of fact for the generalisation that plants are -essentially characterised by their manufacturing capacity—by -their power of working up mere mineral -matters into complex organic compounds.</p> - -<p>Contrariwise, there is a no less wide foundation<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">162</a></span> -for the generalisation that animals, as Cuvier puts it, -depend directly or indirectly upon plants for the -materials of their bodies; that is, either they are -herbivorous, or they eat other animals which are -herbivorous.</p> - -<p>But for what constituents of their bodies are -animals thus dependent upon plants? Certainly not -for their horny matter; nor for chondrin, the proximate -chemical element of cartilage; nor for gelatine; -nor for syntonin, the constituent of muscle; nor for -their nervous or biliary substances; nor for their -amyloid matters; nor, necessarily, for their fats.</p> - -<p>It can be experimentally demonstrated that -animals can make these for themselves. But that -which they cannot make, but must, in all known -cases, obtain directly or indirectly from plants, is the -peculiar nitrogenous matter, protein. Thus the plant -is the ideal <em lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">prolétaire</em> of the living world, the worker -who produces; the animal, the ideal aristocrat, who -mostly occupies himself in consuming, after the manner -of that noble representative of the line of Zähdarm, -whose epitaph is written in <cite>Sartor Resartus</cite>.</p> - -<p>Here is our last hope of finding a sharp line of demarcation -between plants and animals; for, as I have -already hinted, there is a border territory between the -two kingdoms, a sort of no-man’s-land, the inhabitants -of which certainly cannot be discriminated and brought -to their proper allegiance in any other way.</p> - -<p>Some months ago, Professor Tyndall asked me to -examine a drop of infusion of hay, placed under an -excellent and powerful microscope, and to tell him<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">163</a></span> -what I thought some organisms visible in it were. I -looked and observed, in the first place, multitudes of -<i>Bacteria</i> moving about with their ordinary intermittent -spasmodic wriggles. As to the vegetable nature -of these there is now no doubt. Not only does the -close resemblance of the <i>Bacteria</i> to unquestionable -plants, such as the <i>Oscillatoriæ</i>, and lower forms of -<i>Fungi</i>, justify this conclusion, but the manufacturing -test settles the question at once. It is only needful -to add a minute drop of fluid containing <i>Bacteria</i>, to -water in which tartrate, phosphate, and sulphate of -ammonia are dissolved; and, in a very short space of -time, the clear fluid becomes milky by reason of their -prodigious multiplication, which, of course, implies the -manufacture of living Bacterium-stuff out of these -merely saline matters.</p> - -<p>But other active organisms, very much larger than -the <i>Bacteria</i>, attaining in fact the comparatively -gigantic dimensions of 1/3000 of an inch or more, incessantly -crossed the field of view. Each of these had -a body shaped like a pear, the small end being slightly -incurved and produced into a long curved filament, or -<i>cilium</i>, of extreme tenuity. Behind this, from the -concave side of the incurvation, proceeded another -long cilium, so delicate as to be discernible only by -the use of the highest powers and careful management -of the light. In the centre of the pear-shaped body a -clear round space could occasionally be discerned, but -not always; and careful watching showed that this -clear vacuity appeared gradually, and then shut up -and disappeared suddenly, at regular intervals. Such<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">164</a></span> -a structure is of common occurrence among the lowest -plants and animals, and is known as a <i>contractile -vacuole</i>.</p> - -<p>The little creature thus described sometimes propelled -itself with great activity, with a curious rolling -motion, by the lashing of the front cilium, while the -second cilium trailed behind; sometimes it anchored -itself by the hinder cilium and was spun round by the -working of the other, its motions resembling those of -an anchor buoy in a heavy sea. Sometimes, when two -were in full career towards one another, each would -appear dexterously to get out of the other’s way; -sometimes a crowd would assemble and jostle one -another, with as much semblance of individual effort -as a spectator on the Grands Mulets might observe -with a telescope among the specks representing men -in the valley of Chamounix.</p> - -<p>The spectacle, though always surprising, was not -new to me. So my reply to the question put to me -was, that these organisms were what biologists call -<i>Monads</i>, and though they might be animals, it was -also possible that they might, like the <i>Bacteria</i>, be -plants. My friend received my verdict with an -expression which showed a sad want of respect for -authority. He would as soon believe that a sheep was -a plant. Naturally piqued by this want of faith, I -have thought a good deal over the matter; and as I -still rest in the lame conclusion I originally expressed, -and must even now confess that I cannot certainly say -whether this creature is an animal or a plant, I think -it may be well to state the grounds of my hesitation<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">165</a></span> -at length. But, in the first place, in order that I may -conveniently distinguish this “Monad” from the -multitude of other things which go by the same -designation, I must give it a name of its own. I -think (though, for reasons which need not be stated at -present, I am not quite sure) that it is identical with -the species <i>Monas lens</i>, as defined by the eminent -French microscopist Dujardin, though his magnifying -power was probably insufficient to enable him to see -that it is curiously like a much larger form of monad -which he has named <i>Heteromita</i>. I shall, therefore, -call it not <i>Monas</i>, but <i>Heteromita lens</i>.</p> - -<p>I have been unable to devote to my <i>Heteromita</i> -the prolonged study needful to work out its whole -history, which would involve weeks, or it may be -months, of unremitting attention. But I the less regret -this circumstance, as some remarkable observations -recently published by Messrs. Dallinger and -Drysdale<a name="FNanchor_34_34" id="FNanchor_34_34"></a><a href="#Footnote_34_34" class="fnanchor">34</a> on certain Monads, relate, in part, to a form -so similar to my <i>Heteromita lens</i>, that the history of -the one may be used to illustrate that of the other. -These most patient and painstaking observers, who -employed the highest attainable powers of the microscope -and, relieving one another, kept watch day and -night over the same individual monads, have been -enabled to trace out the whole history of their <i>Heteromita</i>; -which they found in infusions of the heads of -fishes of the Cod tribe.</p> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">166</a></span></p> -<p>Of the four monads described and figured by these -investigators, one, as I have said, very closely -resembles <i>Heteromita lens</i> in every particular, except -that it has a separately distinguishable central particle -or “nucleus,” which is not certainly to be made out -in <i>Heteromita lens</i>; and that nothing is said by -Messrs. Dallinger and Drysdale of the existence of a -contractile vacuole in this monad, though they -describe it in another.</p> - -<p>Their <i>Heteromita</i>, however, multiplied rapidly by -fission. Sometimes a transverse constriction appeared; -the hinder half developed a new cilium, and -the hinder cilium gradually split from its base to its -free end, until it was divided into two; a process -which, considering the fact that this fine filament -cannot be much more than 1/100000 of an inch in -diameter, is wonderful enough. The constriction of -the body extended inwards until the two portions -were united by a narrow isthmus; finally, they separated -and each swam away by itself, a complete <i>Heteromita</i>, -provided with its two cilia. Sometimes the -constriction took a longitudinal direction, with the -same ultimate result. In each case the process occupied -not more than six or seven minutes. At this -rate, a single <i>Heteromita</i> would give rise to a -thousand like itself in the course of an hour, to about -a million in two hours, and to a number greater than -the generally assumed number of human beings now -living in the world in three hours; or, if we give each -<i>Heteromita</i> an hour’s enjoyment of individual existence, -the same result will be obtained in about a day.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">167</a></span> -The apparent suddenness of the appearance of multitudes -of such organisms as these, in any nutritive fluid -to which one obtains access, is thus easily explained.</p> - -<p>During these processes of multiplication by fission, -the <i>Heteromita</i> remains active; but sometimes another -mode of fission occurs. The body becomes rounded -and quiescent, or nearly so; and, while in this resting -state, divides into two portions, each of which is -rapidly converted into an active <i>Heteromita</i>.</p> - -<p>A still more remarkable phenomenon is that kind -of multiplication which is preceded by the union of -two monads, by a process which is termed <em>conjugation</em>. -Two active <i>Heteromitæ</i> become applied to one -another, and then slowly and gradually coalesce into -one body. The two nuclei run into one; and the -mass resulting from the conjugation of the two -<i>Heteromitæ</i>, thus fused together, has a triangular -form. The two pairs of cilia are to be seen, for some -time, at two of the angles, which answer to the small -ends of the conjoined monads; but they ultimately -vanish, and the twin organism, in which all visible -traces of organisation have disappeared, falls into a -state of rest. Sudden wave-like movements of its -substance next occur; and, in a short time, the -apices of the triangular mass burst, and give exit to a -dense yellowish, glairy fluid, filled with minute granules. -This process, which, it will be observed, -involves the actual confluence and mixture of the -substance of two distinct organisms, is effected in the -space of about two hours.</p> - -<p>The authors whom I quote say that they “cannot<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">168</a></span> -express” the excessive minuteness of the granules in -question, and they estimate their diameter at less -than 1/200000 of an inch. Under the highest powers -of the microscope at present applicable such specks -are hardly discernible. Nevertheless, particles of this -size are massive when compared to physical molecules; -whence there is no reason to doubt that each, small as -it is, may have a molecular structure sufficiently complex -to give rise to the phenomena of life. And, as a -matter of fact, by patient watching of the place at -which these infinitesimal living particles were discharged, -our observers assured themselves of their -growth and development into new monads. These, -in about four hours from their being set free, had -attained a sixth of the length of the parent, with the -characteristic cilia, though at first they were quite -motionless; and, in four hours more, they had attained -the dimensions and exhibited all the activity of the -adult. These inconceivably minute particles are -therefore the germs of the <i>Heteromita</i>; and from the -dimensions of these germs it is easily shown that the -body formed by conjugation may, at a low estimate, -have given exit to thirty thousand of them; a result -of a matrimonial process whereby the contracting -parties, without a metaphor, “become one flesh,” -enough to make a Malthusian despair of the future of -the Universe.</p> - -<p>I am not aware that the investigators from whom -I have borrowed this history have endeavoured to -ascertain whether their monads take solid nutriment -or not; so that though they help us very much to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">169</a></span> -fill up the blanks in the history of my <i>Heteromita</i>, -their observations throw no light on the problem we -are trying to solve—Is it an animal or is it a plant?</p> - -<p>Undoubtedly it is possible to bring forward very -strong arguments in favour of regarding <i>Heteromita</i> -as a plant.</p> - -<p>For example, there is a Fungus, an obscure and -almost microscopic mould, termed <i>Peronospora infestans</i>. -Like many other Fungi, the <i>Peronosporæ</i> -are parasitic upon other plants; and this particular -<i>Peronospora</i> happens to have attained much notoriety -and political importance, in a way not without a -parallel in the career of notorious politicians, namely, -by reason of the frightful mischief it has done to -mankind. For it is this <i>Fungus</i> which is the cause -of the potato disease; and, therefore, <i>Peronospora -infestans</i> (doubtless of exclusively Saxon origin, -though not accurately known to be so) brought about -the Irish famine. The plants afflicted with the -malady are found to be infested by a mould, consisting -of fine tubular filaments, termed <i>hyphæ</i>, which -burrow through the substance of the potato plant, -and appropriate to themselves the substance of their -host; while, at the same time, directly or indirectly, -they set up chemical changes by which even its -woody framework becomes blackened, sodden, and -withered.</p> - -<p>In structure, however, the <i>Peronospora</i> is as much -a mould as the common <i>Penicillium</i>; and just as the -<i>Penicillium</i> multiplies by the breaking up of its hyphæ -into separate rounded bodies, the spores; so, in the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">170</a></span> -<i>Peronospora</i>, certain of the hyphæ grow out into the -air through the interstices of the superficial cells of -the potato plant, and develop spores. Each of these -hyphæ usually gives off several branches. The ends -of the branches dilate and become closed sacs, which -eventually drop off as spores. The spores falling on -some part of the same potato plant, or carried by the -wind to another, may at once germinate, throwing -out tubular prolongations which become hyphæ, and -burrow into the substance of the plant attacked. -But, more commonly, the contents of the spore divide -into six or eight separate portions. The coat of the -spore gives way, and each portion then emerges as an -independent organism, which has the shape of a bean, -rather narrower at one end than the other, convex on -one side, and depressed or concave on the opposite. -From the depression, two long and delicate cilia proceed, -one shorter than the other, and directed forwards. -Close to the origin of these cilia, in the substance of -the body, is a regularly pulsating, contractile vacuole. -The shorter cilium vibrates actively, and effects the -locomotion of the organism, while the other trails -behind; the whole body rolling on its axis with its -pointed end forwards.</p> - -<p>The eminent botanist, De Bary, who was not -thinking of our problem, tells us, in describing the -movements of these “Zoospores,” that, as they swim -about, “Foreign bodies are carefully avoided, and the -whole movement has a deceptive likeness to the -voluntary changes of place which are observed in -microscopic animals.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">171</a></span></p> - -<p>After swarming about in this way in the moisture -on the surface of a leaf or stem (which, film though -it may be, is an ocean to such a fish) for half an hour, -more or less, the movement of the zoospore becomes -slower, and is limited to a slow turning upon its -axis, without change of place. It then becomes quite -quiet, the cilia disappear, it assumes a spherical form, -and surrounds itself with a distinct, though delicate, -membranous coat. A protuberance then grows out -from one side of the sphere, and rapidly increasing -in length, assumes the character of a hypha. The -latter penetrates into the substance of the potato -plant, either by entering a stomate, or by boring -through the wall of an epidermic cell, and ramifies, as -a mycelium, in the substance of the plant, destroying -the tissues with which it comes in contact. As these -processes of multiplication take place very rapidly, -millions of spores are soon set free from a single -infested plant; and, from their minuteness, they are -readily transported by the gentlest breeze. Since, -again, the zoospores set free from each spore, in virtue -of their powers of locomotion, swiftly disperse themselves -over the surface, it is no wonder that the infection, -once started, soon spreads from field to field, and -extends its ravages over a whole country.</p> - -<p>However, it does not enter into my present plan -to treat of the potato disease, instructively as its -history bears upon that of other epidemics; and I have -selected the case of the <i>Peronospora</i> simply because -it affords an example of an organism, which, in one -stage of its existence, is truly a “Monad,” indistin<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">172</a></span>guishable -by any important character from our <i>Heteromita</i>, -and extraordinarily like it in some respects. -And yet this “Monad” can be traced, step by step, -through the series of metamorphoses which I have -described, until it assumes the features of an organism, -which is as much a plant as is an oak or an elm.</p> - -<p>Moreover, it would be possible to pursue the -analogy farther. Under certain circumstances, a process -of conjugation takes place in the <i>Peronospora</i>. -Two separate portions of its protoplasm become fused -together, surround themselves with a thick coat, and -give rise to a sort of vegetable egg called an <i>oospore</i>. -After a period of rest, the contents of the oospore -break up into a number of zoospores like those -already described, each of which, after a period of -activity, germinates in the ordinary way. This process -obviously corresponds with the conjugation and subsequent -setting free of germs in the <i>Heteromita</i>.</p> - -<p>But it may be said that the <i>Peronospora</i> is, after -all, a questionable sort of plant; that it seems to be -wanting in the manufacturing power, selected as the -main distinctive character of vegetable life; or, at -any rate, that there is no proof that it does not get -its protein matter ready made from the potato plant.</p> - -<p>Let us, therefore, take a case which is not open to -these objections.</p> - -<p>There are some small plants known to botanists -as members of the genus <i>Coleochæte</i>, which, without -being truly parasitic, grow upon certain water-weeds, -as lichens grow upon trees. The little plant has the -form of an elegant green star, the branching arms of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">173</a></span> -which are divided into cells. Its greenness is due to -its chlorophyll, and it undoubtedly has the manufacturing -power in full degree, decomposing carbonic -acid and setting oxygen free, under the influence of -sunlight. But the protoplasmic contents of some of the -cells of which the plant is made up occasionally divide, -by a method similar to that which effects the division -of the contents of the <i>Peronospora</i> spore; and the -severed portions are then set free as active monad-like -zoospores. Each is oval and is provided at one -extremity with two long active cilia. Propelled by -these, it swims about for a longer or shorter time, but -at length comes to a state of rest and gradually grows -into a <i>Coleochæte</i>. Moreover, as in the <i>Peronospora</i>, -conjugation may take place and result in an oospore; -the contents of which divide and are set free as -monadiform germs.</p> - -<p>If the whole history of the zoospores of <i>Peronospora</i>, -and of <i>Coleochæte</i> were unknown, they would -undoubtedly be classed among “Monads” with the -same right as <i>Heteromita</i>; why then may not -<i>Heteromita</i> be a plant, even though the cycle of -forms through which it passes shows no terms quite -so complex as those which occur in <i>Peronospora</i> and -<i>Coleochæte</i>? And, in fact, there are some green -organisms, in every respect characteristically plants, -such as <i>Chlamydomonas</i>, and the common <i>Volvox</i>, or -so-called “Globe animalcule,” which run through a -cycle of forms of just the same simple character as -those of <i>Heteromita</i>.</p> - -<p>The name of <i>Chlamydomonas</i> is applied to certain<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">174</a></span> -microscopic green bodies, each of which consists of a -protoplasmic central substance invested by a structureless -sac. The latter contains cellulose, as in ordinary -plants; and the chlorophyll which gives the green -colour enables the <i>Chlamydomonas</i> to decompose carbonic -acid and fix carbon as they do. Two long cilia -protrude through the cell-wall, and effect the rapid -locomotion of this “monad,” which, in all respects -except its mobility, is characteristically a plant. -Under ordinary circumstances, the <i>Chlamydomonas</i> -multiplies by simple fission, each splitting into two or -into four parts, which separate and become independent -organisms. Sometimes, however, the <i>Chlamydomonas</i> -divides into eight parts, each of which is provided -with four instead of two cilia. These “zoospores” -conjugate in pairs, and give rise to quiescent bodies, -which multiply by division, and eventually pass into -the active state.</p> - -<p>Thus, so far as outward form and the general -character of the cycle of modifications, through which -the organism passes in the course of its life, are concerned, -the resemblance between <i>Chlamydomonas</i> and -<i>Heteromita</i> is of the closest description. And on the -face of the matter there is no ground for refusing to -admit that <i>Heteromita</i> may be related to <i>Chlamydomonas</i>, -as the colourless fungus is to the green alga. -<i>Volvox</i> may be compared to a hollow sphere, the -wall of which is made up of coherent Chlamydomonads; -and which progresses with a rotating motion -effected by the paddling of the multitudinous pairs of -cilia which project from its surface. Each <i>Volvox</i><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">175</a></span>monad, -moreover, possesses a red pigment spot, like -the simplest form of eye known among animals. -The methods of fissive multiplication and of conjugation -observed in the monads of this locomotive -globe are essentially similar to those observed in -<i>Chlamydomonas</i>; and, though a hard battle has been -fought over it, <i>Volvox</i> is now finally surrendered to -the Botanists.</p> - -<p>Thus there is really no reason why <i>Heteromita</i> -may not be a plant; and this conclusion would be -very satisfactory, if it were not equally easy to show -that there is really no reason why it should not be an -animal. For there are numerous organisms presenting -the closest resemblance to <i>Heteromita</i>, and, like it, -grouped under the general name of “Monads,” which, -nevertheless, can be observed to take in solid nutriment, -and which, therefore, have a virtual, if not an -actual, mouth and digestive cavity, and thus come -under Cuvier’s definition of an animal. Numerous -forms of such animals have been described by Ehrenberg, -Dujardin, H. James Clark, and other writers on -the <i>Infusoria</i>. Indeed, in another infusion of hay -in which my <i>Heteromita lens</i> occurred, there were -innumerable infusorial animalcules belonging to the -well-known species <i>Colpoda cucullus</i>.<a name="FNanchor_35_35" id="FNanchor_35_35"></a><a href="#Footnote_35_35" class="fnanchor">35</a></p> - -<p>Full-sized specimens of this animalcule attain a -length of between 1/300 or 1/400 of an inch, so that it -may have ten times the length and a thousand times -the mass of a <i>Heteromita</i>. In shape, it is not alto<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">176</a></span>gether -unlike <i>Heteromita</i>. The small end, however, -is not produced into one long cilium, but the general -surface of the body is covered with small actively -vibrating ciliary organs, which are only longest at the -small end. At the point which answers to that from -which the two cilia arise in <i>Heteromita</i>, there is a -conical depression, the mouth; and, in young specimens, -a tapering filament, which reminds one of the -posterior cilium of <i>Heteromita</i>, projects from this -region.</p> - -<p>The body consists of a soft granular protoplasmic -substance, the middle of which is occupied by a large -oval mass called the “nucleus;” while, at its hinder -end, is a “contractile vacuole,” conspicuous by its -regular rhythmic appearances and disappearances. -Obviously, although the <i>Colpoda</i> is not a monad, it -differs from one only in subordinate details. Moreover, -under certain conditions, it becomes quiescent, -incloses itself in a delicate case or <i>cyst</i>, and then divides -into two, four, or more portions, which are eventually -set free and swim about as active <i>Colpodæ</i>.</p> - -<p>But this creature is an unmistakable animal, and -full-sized <i>Colpodæ</i> may be fed as easily as one feeds -chickens. It is only needful to diffuse very finely -ground carmine through the water in which they live, -and, in a very short time, the bodies of the <i>Colpodæ</i> -are stuffed with the deeply-coloured granules of the -pigment.</p> - -<p>And if this were not sufficient evidence of the -animality of <i>Colpoda</i>, there comes the fact that it is -even more similar to another well-known animalcule,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">177</a></span> -<i>Paramæcium</i>, than it is to a monad. But <i>Paramæcium</i> -is so huge a creature compared with those -hitherto discussed—it reaches 1/120 of an inch or more -in length—that there is no difficulty in making out -its organisation in detail; and in proving that it is -not only an animal, but that it is an animal which -possesses a somewhat complicated organisation. For -example, the surface layer of its body is different in -structure from the deeper parts. There are two contractile -vacuoles, from each of which radiates a system -of vessel-like canals; and not only is there a conical -depression continuous with a tube, which serve as -mouth and gullet, but the food ingested takes a -definite course, and refuse is rejected from a definite -region. Nothing is easier than to feed these animals, -and to watch the particles of indigo or carmine accumulate -at the lower end of the gullet. From this -they gradually project, surrounded by a ball of water, -which at length passes with a jerk, oddly simulating -a gulp, into the pulpy central substance of the body, -there to circulate up one side and down the other, -until its contents are digested and assimilated. Nevertheless, -this complex animal multiplies by division, as -the monad does, and, like the monad, undergoes conjugation. -It stands in the same relation to <i>Heteromita</i> -on the animal side, as <i>Coleochæte</i> does on the -plant side. Start from either, and such an insensible -series of gradations leads to the monad that it is -impossible to say at any stage of the progress—here -the line between the animal and the plant must be -drawn.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">178</a></span></p> - -<p>There is reason to think that certain organisms -which pass through a monad stage of existence, such -as the <i>Myxomycetes</i>, are, at one time of their lives, -dependent upon external sources for their protein -matter, or are animals; and, at another period, manufacture -it, or are plants. And seeing that the whole -progress of modern investigation is in favour of the -doctrine of continuity, it is a fair and probable -speculation—though only a speculation—that, as -there are some plants which can manufacture protein -out of such apparently intractable mineral matters as -carbonic acid, water, nitrate of ammonia, metallic and -earthy salts; while others need to be supplied with -their carbon and nitrogen in the somewhat less raw -form of tartrate of ammonia and allied compounds; -so there may be yet others, as is possibly the case with -the true parasitic plants, which can only manage to -put together materials still better prepared—still more -nearly approximated to protein—until we arrive at -such organisms as the <i>Psorospermiæ</i> and the <i>Panhistophyton</i>, -which are as much animal as vegetable -in structure, but are animal in their dependence on -other organisms for their food.</p> - -<p>The singular circumstance observed by Meyer, -that the <i>Torula</i> of yeast, though an indubitable -plant, still flourishes most vigorously when supplied -with the complex nitrogenous substance, pepsin; the -probability that the <i>Peronospora</i> is nourished directly -by the protoplasm of the potato-plant; and the wonderful -facts which have recently been brought to light -respecting insectivorous plants, all favour this view;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">179</a></span> -and tend to the conclusion that the difference between -animal and plant is one of degree rather than of kind; -and that the problem whether, in a given case, an -organism is an animal or a plant, may be essentially -insoluble.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">180</a></span></p> - -<h2>VIII.<br /><br /> - -ON CERTAIN ERRORS RESPECTING THE -STRUCTURE OF THE HEART ATTRIBUTED -TO ARISTOTLE.</h2> - -<p><span class="smcap">In</span> all the commentaries upon the “Historia Animalium” -which I have met with, Aristotle’s express -and repeated statement, that the heart of man and -the largest animals contains only three cavities, is -noted as a remarkable error. Even Cuvier, who had -a great advantage over most of the commentators in -his familiarity with the subject of Aristotle’s description, -and whose habitual caution and moderation -seem to desert him when the opportunity of panegyrising -the philosopher presents itself, is betrayed -into something like a sneer on this topic.</p> - -<div class="blockquot"> - -<p lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">“Du reste il n’attribue à cet organe que trois cavités, erreur -qui prouve au moins qu’il en avait regardé la structure.”<a name="FNanchor_36_36" id="FNanchor_36_36"></a><a href="#Footnote_36_36" class="fnanchor">36</a></p></div> - -<p>To which remark, what follows will, I think, -justify the reply, that it “prouve au moins” that -Cuvier had not given ordinary attention, to say -nothing of the careful study which they deserve, to -sundry passages in the first and the third books of the -“Historia” which I proceed to lay before the reader.</p> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">181</a></span></p> -<p>For convenience of reference these passages are -marked <i>A</i>, <i>B</i>, <i>C</i>, etc.<a name="FNanchor_37_37" id="FNanchor_37_37"></a><a href="#Footnote_37_37" class="fnanchor">37</a></p> - -<div class="blockquot"> - -<p>Book i. 17.—(<i>A</i>) “The heart has three cavities, it lies above -the lung on the division of the windpipe, and has a fatty and -thick membrane where it is united with the great vein and the -aorta. It lies upon the aorta, with its point down the chest, in -all animals that have a chest. In all, alike in those that have a -chest and in those that have none, the foremost part of it is the -apex. This is often overlooked through the turning upside down -of the dissection. The rounded end of the heart is uppermost, -the pointed end of it is largely fleshy and thick, and in its -cavities there are tendons. In other animals which have a chest -the heart lies in the middle of the chest; in men, more to the -left side, between the nipples, a little inclined to the left nipple -in the upper part of the chest. The heart is not large, and its -general form is not elongated but rounded, except that the apex -is produced into a point.</p> - -<p>(<i>B</i>) “It has, as already stated, three cavities, the largest of -them is on the right, the smallest on the left, the middle-sized -one in the middle; they have all, also the two small ones, passages -(τετρημένας) towards the lung, very evidently as respects -one of the cavities. In the region of the union [with the great -vein and the aorta] the largest cavity is connected with the -largest vein (near which is the mesentery); the middle cavity -with the aorta.</p> - -<p>(<i>C</i>) “Canals (πόροι) from the heart pass to the lung and -divide in the same fashion as the windpipe does, closely accompanying -those from the windpipe through the whole lung. The -canals from the heart are uppermost.</p> - -<p>(<i>D</i>) “No canal is common [to the branches of the windpipe -and those of the vein] (οὐδεὶς δ’ ἐστὶ κοινὸς πόρος) but through -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">182</a></span>those parts of them which are in contact (τὴν σύναψιν) the -air passes in and they [the πόροι] carry it to the heart.</p> - -<p>(<i>E</i>) “One of the canals leads to the right cavity, the other -to the left.</p> - -<p>(<i>F</i>) “Of all the viscera, the heart alone contains blood [in -itself]. The lung contains blood, not in itself but in the veins, -the heart in itself; for in each of the cavities there is blood; -the thinnest is in the middle cavity.”</p> - -<p>Book iii. 3.—(<i>G</i>) “Two veins lie in the thorax alongside the -spine, on its inner face; the larger more forwards, the smaller -behind; the larger more to the right, the smaller, which some -call <i>aorta</i> (on account of the tendinous part of it seen in dead -bodies), to the left. These take their origin from the heart; -they pass entire, preserving the nature of veins, through the -other viscera that they reach; while the heart is rather a part -of them, and more especially of the anterior and larger one, -which is continued into veins above and below, while between -these is the heart.</p> - -<p>(<i>H</i>) “All hearts contain cavities, but, in those of very small -animals, the largest [cavity] is hardly visible, those of middling -size have another, and the biggest all three.</p> - -<p>(<i>I</i>) “The point of the heart is directed forwards, as was mentioned -at first; the largest cavity to the right and upper side of -it, the smallest to the left, and the middle-sized one between -these; both of these are much smaller than the largest.</p> - -<p>(<i>K</i>) “They are all connected by passages (συντέτρηνται) with -the lung, but, on account of the smallness of the canals, this is -obscure except in one.</p> - -<p>(<i>L</i>) “The great vein proceeds from the largest cavity which -lies upwards and to the right; next through the hollow middle -part (διὰ τοῦ κοίλου τοῦ μέσου) it becomes vein again, this cavity -being a part of the vein in which the blood stagnates.</p> - -<p>(<i>M</i>) “The aorta [proceeds from] the middle [cavity], but not -in the same way, for it is connected [with the middle cavity] by -a much more narrow tube (σύριγγα).</p> - -<p>(<i>N</i>) “The [great] vein extends through the heart, towards -the aorta from the heart.</p> - -<p>(<i>O</i>) “The great vein is membranous like skin, the aorta -narrower than it and very tendinous, and as it extends towards -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">183</a></span>the head and the lower parts it becomes narrow and altogether -tendinous.</p> - -<p>(<i>P</i>) “In the first place, a part of the great vein extends -upwards from the heart towards the lung and the attachment of -the aorta, the vein being large and undivided. It divides into -two parts, the one to the lung, the other to the spine and the -lowest vertebra of the neck.</p> - -<p>(<i>Q</i>) “The vein which extends to the lung first divides into -two parts for the two halves of it and then extends alongside -each tube (σύριγγα) and each passage (τρῆμα), the larger beside -the larger and the smaller beside the smaller, so that no part -[of the lung] can be found from which a passage (τρῆμα) and a -vein are absent. The terminations are invisible on account of -their minuteness, but the whole lung appears full of blood. The -canals from the vein lie above the tubes given off from the -windpipe.”</p></div> - -<p>The key to the whole of the foregoing description -of the heart lies in the passages (<i>G</i>) and (<i>L</i>). They -prove that Aristotle, like Galen, five hundred years -afterwards, and like the great majority of the old -Greek anatomists, did not reckon what we call the -right auricle as a constituent of the heart at all, but -as a hollow part, or dilatation, of the “great vein.” -Aristotle is careful to state that his observations were -conducted on suffocated animals; and if any one will -lay open the thorax of a dog or a rabbit, which has -been killed with chloroform, in such a manner as to -avoid wounding any important vessel, he will at once -see why Aristotle adopted this view.</p> - -<p>For, as the subjoined figure (p. 185) shows, the -vena cava inferior (<i>b</i>), the right auricle (<i>R.a.</i>), and -the vena cava superior and innominate vein (<i>V.I.</i>) -distended with blood seem to form one continuous -column, to which the heart is attached as a sort<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">184</a></span> -of appendage. This column is, as Aristotle says, -vein above (<i>a</i>) and vein below (<i>b</i>), the upper and -the lower divisions being connected διὰ τοῦ κοίλου τοῦ -μέσου—or by means of the intervening cavity or -chamber (<i>R.a.</i>)—which is that which we call the -right auricle.</p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> -<img src="images/i_185.jpg" width="500" height="588" alt="" /> -</div> - -<div class="blockquot"> - -<p class="indent">A dog having been killed by chloroform, enough of the right wall of -the thorax was removed, without any notable bleeding, to expose the -thoracic viscera. A carefully measured outline sketch of the parts <em>in situ</em> -was then made, and on dissection, twenty-four hours afterwards, the -necessary anatomical details were added. The woodcut is a faithfully -reduced copy of the drawing thus constructed; and it represents the -relations of the heart and great vessels as Aristotle saw them in a suffocated -animal.</p> - -<p class="indent">All but the inner lobe of the right lung has been removed; as well as the right -half of the pericardium and the right walls of the right auricle and ventricle. -It must be remembered that the thin transparent pericardial membrane -appears nothing like so distinct in nature.</p> - -<p class="indent"><i>a.b.</i>, Aristotle’s “great vein”; <i>V.I.</i>, right vena innominata and vena cava -superior; <i>b</i>, the inferior vena cava; <i>R.a.</i>, the “hollow middle” part of the -great vein or the right auricle; <i>R.v′</i>, the prolongation of the cavity of the -right ventricle <i>R.v</i> towards the pulmonary artery; <i>tr</i>, one of the tricuspid -valves; <i>Pc</i>, the pericardium; <i>I.sv</i>, superior intercostal vein; <i>Az</i>, vena -azygos; <i>P.A.</i>, right pulmonary artery; <i>Br</i>, right bronchus; <i>L</i>, inner -lobe of the right lung; <i>Œ</i>, œsophagus; <i>Ao</i>, descending aorta; <i>H</i>, liver, in -section, with hepatic vein, vena portæ, and gall-bladder, <i>gb</i>, separated by -the diaphragm, also seen in section, from the thoracic cavity.</p></div> - -<p>But when, from the four cavities of the heart -recognised by us moderns, one is excluded, there -remain three—which is just what Aristotle says. -The solution of the difficulty is, in fact, as absurdly -simple as that presented by the egg of Columbus; -and any error there may be, is not to be put down to -Aristotle, but to that inability to comprehend that the -same fact may be accurately described in different -ways, which is the special characteristic of the commentatorial -mind. That the three cavities mentioned -by Aristotle are just those which remain if the right -auricle is omitted, is plain enough from what is said -in (<i>B</i>), (<i>C</i>), (<i>E</i>), (<i>I</i>), and (<i>L</i>). For, in a suffocated -animal, the “right cavity” which is directly connected -with the great vein, and is obviously the right -ventricle, being distended with blood, will look much -larger than the middle cavity, which, since it gives -rise to the aorta, can only be the left ventricle. And -this, again, will appear larger than the thin and -collapsed left auricle, which must be Aristotle’s left -cavity, inasmuch as this cavity is said to be connected -by πόροι with the lung. The reason why -Aristotle considered the left auricle to be a part of -the heart, while he merged the right auricle in the -great vein, is, obviously, the small relative size of the -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">185</a><br /><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">186</a></span>venous trunks and their sharper demarcation from -the auricle. Galen, however, perhaps more consistently, -regarded the left auricle also as a mere part -of the “arteria venosa.” The canal which leads from -the right cavity of the heart to the lung (or, as Aristotle -puts it (<i>E</i>), from the lung to the heart) is, without -doubt, the pulmonary artery. But it may be said -that, in this case, Aristotle contradicts himself, inasmuch -as in (<i>P</i>) and (<i>Q</i>) a vessel, which is obviously -the pulmonary artery, is described as a branch of the -great vein. However, this difficulty also disappears, -if we reflect that, in Aristotle’s way of looking at the -matter, the line of demarcation between the great -vein and the heart coincides with the right auriculo-ventricular -aperture; and that, inasmuch as the -conical prolongation of the right ventricle which -leads to the pulmonary artery (<i>R.v′</i> in the Figure), lies -close in front of the auricle, its base may very easily -(as the figure shows) be regarded as part of the -general opening of the great vein into the right -ventricle. In fact, it is clear that Aristotle, having -failed to notice the valves of the heart, did not distinguish -the part of the right ventricle from which -the pulmonary artery arises (<i>R.v′</i>) from the proper -trunk of the artery on the one hand, and from the -right auricle (<i>R.a</i>) on the other. Thus the root, as -we may call it, of the pulmonary artery and the right -auricle, taken together, are spoken of as the “part of -the great vein which extends upwards” (<i>P</i>); and, as -the vena azygos (<i>Az</i>) was one branch of this, so the -“vein to the lung” was regarded as another branch of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">187</a></span> -it. But the latter branch, being given off close to -the connection of the great vein with the ventricle, -was also counted as one of the two πόροι by which the -“heart” (that is to say the right ventricle, the left -ventricle, and the left auricle of our nomenclature) -communicates with the lung.</p> - -<p>The only other difficulty that I observe is connected -with (<i>K</i>). If Aristotle intended by this to -affirm that the middle cavity (the left ventricle), like -the other two, is directly connected with the lung by -a πόρος, he would be in error. But he has excluded -this interpretation of his words by (<i>E</i>), in which the -number and relations of the canals, the existence of -which he admits, are distinctly defined. I can only -imagine then, that, so far as this passage applies to -the left ventricle, it merely refers to the indirect -communication of that cavity with the vessels of the -lungs, through the left auricle.</p> - -<p>On this evidence I submit that there is no escape -from the conclusion that, instead of having committed -a gross blunder, Aristotle has given a description of -the heart which, so far as it goes, is remarkably -accurate. He is in error only in regard to the -differences which he imagines to exist between large -and small hearts (<i>H</i>).</p> - -<p>Cuvier (who has been followed by other commentators) -ascribes another error to Aristotle:—</p> - -<div class="blockquot"> - -<p lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">“Aristote suppose que la trachée-artère se prolonge jusqu’au -cœur, et semble croire, en conséquence, que l’air y pénétre (<i>l. c.</i> -p. 152).”</p></div> - -<p>Upon what foundation Cuvier rested the first of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">188</a></span> -these two assertions, I am at a loss to divine. As a -matter of fact, it will appear from the following -excerpts that Aristotle gives an account of the -structure of the lungs which is almost as good as that -of the heart, and that it contains nothing about any -prolongation of the windpipe to the heart.</p> - -<div class="blockquot"> - -<p>“Within the neck lie what is called the œsophagus (so -named on account of its length and its narrowness) and the -windpipe (ἀρτηρία). The position of the windpipe in all animals -that have one, is in front of the œsophagus. All animals which -possess a lung have a windpipe. The windpipe is of a cartilaginous -nature and is exsanguine, but is surrounded by many -little veins....</p> - -<p>“It goes downwards towards the middle of the lung, and -then divides for each of the halves of the lung. In all animals -that possess one, the lung is divided into two parts; but, in -those which bring forth their young alive, the separation is not -equally well marked, least of all in man.</p> - -<p>“In oviparous animals, such as birds, and in quadrupeds -which are oviparous, the one half of the lung is widely separated -from the other; so that it appears as if they had two lungs. -And from being single, the windpipe becomes (divided into) -two, which extend to each half of the lung. It is fastened to -the great vein, and to what is called the aorta. When the -windpipe is blown up, the air passes into the hollow parts of the -lung. In these, are cartilaginous tubes (διαφύσεις) which unite -at an angle; from the tubes passages (τρήματα) traverse the -whole of the lung; they are continually given off, the smaller -from the larger.” (Book i. 16.)</p></div> - -<p>That Aristotle should speak of the lung as a single -organ divided into two halves, and should say that -the division is least marked in man, is puzzling at -first; but the statement becomes intelligible, if we -reflect upon the close union of the bronchi, the -pulmonary vessels and the mediastinal walls of the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">189</a></span> -pleuræ, in mammals;<a name="FNanchor_38_38" id="FNanchor_38_38"></a><a href="#Footnote_38_38" class="fnanchor">38</a> and it is quite true that the -lungs are much more obviously distinct from one -another in birds.</p> - -<p>Aubert and Wimmer translate the last paragraph -of the passage just cited as follows:—</p> - -<div class="blockquot"> - -<p lang="de" xml:lang="de">“Diese haben aber knorpelige Scheidewände, welche unter -spitzen Winkeln zusammentreten, und aus ihnen führen Oeffnungen -durch die ganze Lunge, indem sie sich in immer kleineren -verzweigen.”</p></div> - -<p>But I cannot think that by διαφύσεις and τρήματα, -in this passage, Aristotle meant either “partitions” or -openings in the ordinary sense of the latter word. -For, in Book iii. Cap. 3, in describing the distribution -of the “vein which goes to the lung” (the pulmonary -artery), he says that it</p> - -<div class="blockquot"> - -<p>“extends alongside each tube (σύριγγα) and each passage -(τρῆμα), the larger beside the larger, and the smaller beside the -smaller; so that no part (of the lung) can be found from which -a passage (τρῆμα) and a vein are absent.”</p></div> - -<p>Moreover, in Book i. 17, he says—</p> - -<div class="blockquot"> - -<p>“Canals (πόροι) from the heart pass to the lung and divide -in the same fashion as the windpipe does, closely accompanying -those from the windpipe through the whole lung.”</p></div> - -<p>And again in Book i. 17—</p> - -<div class="blockquot"> - -<p>“It (the lung) is entirely spongy, and alongside of each tube -(σύριγγα) run canals (πόροι) from the great vein.”</p></div> - -<p>On comparing the last three statements with the -facts of the case, it is plain that by σύριγγες, or tubes, -Aristotle means the bronchi and so many of their -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">190</a></span>larger divisions as obviously contain cartilages; and -that by διαφύσεις χονδρώδεις he denotes the same -things; and, if this be so, then the τρήματα must be -the smaller bronchial canals, in which the cartilages -disappear.</p> - -<p>This view of the structure of the lung is perfectly -correct so far as it extends; and, bearing it in mind, -we shall be in a position to understand what Aristotle -thought about the passage of air from the lungs into -the heart. In every part of the lung, he says, in -effect, there is an air tube which is derived from the -trachea, and other tubes which are derived from the -πόροι which connect the lung with the heart (<i>suprà</i>, <i>C</i>). -Their applied walls constitute the thin “synapses” -(τὴν σύναψιν) through which the air passes out of the -air tubes into the πόροι, or blood-vessels, by transudation -or diffusion; for there is no community between -the cavities of the air tubes and cavities of the canals; -that is to say, no opening from one into the other -(<i>suprà</i>, <i>D</i>).</p> - -<p>On the words “κοινὸς πόρος” Aubert and Wimmer -remark (<i>l. c.</i> p. 239), <span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">“Da A. die Ansicht hat die -Lungenluft würde dem Herzen zugeführt, so postulirt -er statt vieler kleiner Verbindungen einen grossen -Verbindungsgang zwischen Lunge und Herz.”</span></p> - -<p>But does Aristotle make this assumption? The -only evidence so far as I know in favour of the affirmative -answer to this question is the following -passage:—</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">191</a></span></p><div class="blockquot"> - -<p lang="gr" xml:lang="gr">“Συνήρτεται δὲ καὶ ἡ καρδία τῇ ἀρτηριᾷ πιμελώδεσι καὶ χονδρώδεσι -καὶ ἰνώδεσι δεσμοῖς· ᾗ δὲ συνήρτεται, κοῖλόν ἐστιν. φυσωμένης -δὲ τῆς ἀρτηρίας μὲν ἐνίοις ἐν οὐ κατάδηλον ποιεῖ, ἐν δὲ τοῖς μείζοσι -τῶν ζῴων δῆλον ὅτι εἰσέρχεται τὸ πνεῦμα εἰς αὐτὴν” (i. cap. 16).</p> - -<p>“The heart and the windpipe are connected by fatty and -cartilaginous and fibrous bands; where they are connected it is -hollow. Blowing into the windpipe does not show clearly in -some animals, but in the larger animals it is clear that the air -goes into it.”</p></div> - -<p>Aubert and Wimmer give a somewhat different -rendering of this passage:—</p> - -<div class="blockquot"> - -<p lang="de" xml:lang="de">“Auch das Herz hängt mit der Luftröhre durch fettreiche, -knorpelige und faserige Bänder zusammen; und da, wo sie -zusammenhängen, ist eine Höhlung. Beim Aufblasen der Lunge -wird es bei manchen Thieren nicht wahrnehmbar, bei den -grösseren aber ist es offenbar, dass die Luft in das Herz gelangt.”</p></div> - -<p>The sense here turns upon the signification which -is to be ascribed to εἰς αὐτὴν. But if these words -refer to the heart, then Aristotle has distinctly pointed -out the road which the air, in his opinion, takes, -namely, through the “synapses” (<i>D</i>); and there is no -reason that I can discover to believe that he “postulated” -any other and more direct communication.</p> - -<p>With respect to the meaning of κοῖλόν ἐστιν, Aubert -and Wimmer observe:—</p> - -<div class="blockquot"> - -<p lang="de" xml:lang="de">“Dies scheint wohl die kurze Lungenvene zu sein. Schneider -bezieht dies auf die Vorkammern, allein diese werden unten als -Höhlen des Herzens beschrieben.”</p></div> - -<p>I am disposed to think, on the contrary, that the -words refer simply to the cavity of the pericardium. -For a part of this cavity (<i>sinus transversus pericardii</i>) -lies between the aorta, on the one hand, and the -pulmonary vessels with the bifurcation of the trachea, -on the other hand, and is much more conspicuous in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">192</a></span> -some animals than in man. It is strictly correct, -therefore, in Aristotle’s words, to say that where the -heart and the windpipe are connected “it is hollow.” -If he had meant to speak of one of the pulmonary -veins, or of any of the cavities of the heart, he would -have used the terms πόροι or κοιλίας which he always -employs for these parts.</p> - -<p>According to Aristotle, then, the air taken into -the lungs passes, from the final ramifications of the -bronchial tubes into the corresponding branches of -the pulmonary blood-vessels, not through openings, -but by transudation, or, as we should nowadays say, -diffusion, through the thin partitions formed by the -applied coats of the two sets of canals. But the -“pneuma” which thus reached the interior of the -blood-vessels was not, in Aristotle’s opinion, exactly -the same thing as the air. It was “ἀὴρ πολὺς ῥέων καὶ -ἀθρόος” (“De Mundo,” iv. 9)—subtilised and condensed -air; and it is hard to make out whether -Aristotle considered it to possess the physical properties -of an elastic fluid or those of a liquid. As he -affirms that all the cavities of the heart contain blood -(<i>F</i>), it is clear that he did not hold the erroneous view -propounded in the next generation by Erasistratus. -On the other hand, the fact that he supposes that the -spermatic arteries do not contain blood but only an -αἱματῶδης ὑγρόν (“Hist. Animalium,” iii. 1), shows -that his notions respecting the contents of the arteries -were vague. Nor does he seem to have known that -the pulse is characteristic only of the arteries; and as -he thought that the arteries end in solid fibrous bands,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">193</a></span> -he naturally could not have entertained the faintest -conception of the true motion of the blood. But, -without attempting to read into Aristotle modern -conceptions which never entered his mind, it is only -just to observe that his view of what becomes of the -air taken into the lungs is by no means worthy of -contempt as a gross error. On the contrary, here, as -in the case of his anatomy of the heart, what Aristotle -asserts is true as far as it goes. Something does actually -pass from the air contained in the lungs through the -coats of the vessels into the blood, and thence to the -heart; to wit, oxygen. And I think that it speaks very -well for ancient Greek science that the investigator of so -difficult a physiological problem as that of respiration, -should have arrived at a conclusion, the statement of -which, after the lapse of more than two thousand -years, can be accepted as a thoroughly established -scientific truth.</p> - -<p>I trust that the case in favour of removing the -statements about the heart, from the list of the “errors -of Aristotle” is now clear; and that the evidence -proves, on the contrary, that they justify us in forming -a very favourable estimate of the oldest anatomical -investigations among the Greeks of which any sufficient -record remains.</p> - -<p>But is Aristotle to be credited with the merit of -having ascertained so much of the truth? This -question will not appear superfluous to those who are -acquainted with the extraordinary history of Aristotle’s -works, or who adopt the conclusion of Aubert and -Wimmer, that, of the ten books of the “Historia<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">194</a></span> -Animalium” which have come down to us, three are -largely or entirely spurious, and that the others contain -many interpolations by later writers.</p> - -<p>It so happens, however, that, apart from other -reasons, there are satisfactory internal grounds for -ascribing the account of the heart to a writer of the -time at which Aristotle lived. For, within thirty -years of his death, the anatomists of the Alexandrian -school had thoroughly investigated the structure and -the functions of the valves of the heart. During this -time, the manuscripts of Aristotle were in the possession -of Theophrastus; and no interpolator of later -date would have shown that he was ignorant of the -nature and significance of these important structures, -by the brief and obscure allusion—“in its cavities -there are tendons” (<i>A</i>). On the other hand, Polybus, -whose account of the vascular system is quoted in the -“Historia Animalium” was an elder contemporary of -Aristotle. Hence, if any part of the work faithfully -represents that which Aristotle taught, we may safely -conclude that the description of the heart does so. -Having granted this much, however, it is another -question, whether Aristotle is to be regarded as the -first discoverer of the facts which he has so well stated, -or whether he, like other men, was the intellectual -child of his time and simply carried on a step or two -the work which had been commenced by others.</p> - -<p>On the subject of Aristotle’s significance as an -original worker in biology extraordinarily divergent -views have been put forward. If we are to adopt -Cuvier’s estimate, Aristotle was simply a miracle:—</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">195</a></span></p> - -<div class="blockquot"> - -<p lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">“Avant Aristote la philosophie, entièrement spéculative, se -perdait dans les abstractions dépourvues de fondement; la science -n’existait pas. Il semble qu’elle soit sortie toute faite du cerveau -d’Aristote comme Minerve, toute armée, du cerveau de Jupiter. -Seul, en effet, sans antécédents, sans rien emprunter aux siècles -qui l’avaient précédé, puisqu’ils n’avaient rien produit de solide, -le disciple de Platon découvrit et démontra plus de vérités, -executa plus de travaux scientifiques en un vie de soixante-deux -ans, qu’après lui vingt siècles n’en ont pu faire,”<a name="FNanchor_39_39" id="FNanchor_39_39"></a><a href="#Footnote_39_39" class="fnanchor">39</a> etc. etc.</p> - -<p lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">“Aristote est le premier qui ait introduit la méthode de -l’induction, de la comparaison des observations pour en faire -sortir des idées générales, et celle de l’expérience pour multiplier -les faits dont ces idées générales peuvent être déduites.”—ii. p. -515.</p></div> - -<p>The late Mr. G. H. Lewes,<a name="FNanchor_40_40" id="FNanchor_40_40"></a><a href="#Footnote_40_40" class="fnanchor">40</a> on the contrary, tells -us “on a superficial examination, therefore, he -[Aristotle] will seem to have given tolerable descriptions; -especially if approached with that disposition -to discover marvels which unconsciously -determines us in our study of eminent writers. -But a more unbiassed and impartial criticism will -disclose that he has given no single anatomical -description of the least value. All that he knew -may have been known, and probably was known, -without dissection.... I do not assert that he -never opened an animal; on the contrary it seems -highly probable that he had opened many.... He -never followed the course of a vessel or a nerve; -never laid bare the origin and insertion of a muscle; -never discriminated the component parts of organs; -never made clear to himself the connection of organs -into systems.”—(pp. 156-7.)</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">196</a></span></p> - -<p>In the face of the description of the heart and -lungs, just quoted, I think we may venture to say -that no one who has acquired even an elementary -practical acquaintance with anatomy, and knows of -his own knowledge that which Aristotle describes, -will agree with the opinion expressed by Mr. Lewes; -and those who turn to the accounts of the structure -of the rock lobster and the common lobster, or to that -of the Cephalopods and other Mollusks, in the fourth -book of the “Historia Animalium” will probably feel -inclined to object to it still more strongly.</p> - -<p>On the other hand, Cuvier’s exaggerated panegyric -will as little bear the test of cool discussion. In -Greece, the century before Aristotle’s birth was a -period of great intellectual activity, in the field of -physical science no less than elsewhere. The method -of induction has never been used to better effect than -by Hippocrates; and the labours of such men as -Alkmeon, Demokritus, and Polybus, among Aristotle’s -predecessors; Diokles, and Praxagoras, among his contemporaries, -laid a solid foundation for the scientific -study of anatomy and development, independently -of his labours. Aristotle himself informs us that the -dissection of animals was commonly practised; that -the aorta had been distinguished from the great vein; -and that the connection of both with the heart had -been observed by his predecessors. What they thought -about the structure of the heart itself or that of the -lungs, he does not tell us, and we have no means of -knowing. So far from arrogantly suggesting that he -owed nothing to his predecessors, Aristotle is careful<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">197</a></span> -to refer to their observations, and to explain why, -in his judgment, they fell into the errors which he -corrects.</p> - -<p>Aristotle’s knowledge, in fact, appears to have -stood in the same relation to that of such men as -Polybus and Diogenes of Apollonia, as that of -Herophilus and Erasistratus did to his own, so far -as the heart is concerned. He carried science a step -beyond the point at which he found it; a meritorious, -but not a miraculous, achievement. What he did, -required the possession of very good powers of -observation; if they had been powers of the highest -class, he could hardly have left such conspicuous -objects as the valves of the heart to be discovered -by his successors.</p> - -<p>And this leads me to make a final remark upon a -singular feature of the “Historia Animalium.” As a -whole, it is a most notable production, full of accurate -information, and of extremely acute generalisations of -the observations accumulated by naturalists up to -that time. And yet, every here and there, one -stumbles upon assertions respecting matters which lie -within the scope of the commonest inspection, which -are not so much to be called errors, as stupidities. -What is to be made of the statement that the sutures -of women’s skulls are different from those of men; -that men and sundry male animals have more teeth -than their respective females; that the back of the -skull is empty; and so on? It is simply incredible -to me, that the Aristotle who wrote the account of the -heart, also committed himself to absurdities which<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">198</a></span> -can be excused by no theoretical prepossession and -which are contradicted by the plainest observation.</p> - -<p>What, after all, were the original manuscripts of -the “Historia Animalium”? If they were notes of -Aristotle’s lectures taken by some of his students, any -lecturer who has chanced to look through such notes, -would find the interspersion of a foundation of general -and sometimes minute accuracy, with patches of -transcendent blundering, perfectly intelligible. Some -competent Greek scholar may perhaps think it worth -while to tell us what may be said for or against -the hypothesis thus hinted. One obvious difficulty -in the way of adopting it is the fact that, in other -works, Aristotle refers to the “Historia Animalium” -as if it had already been made public by himself.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">199</a></span></p> - -<h2>IX.<br /><br /> - -ON THE HYPOTHESIS THAT ANIMALS ARE -AUTOMATA, AND ITS HISTORY.</h2> - -<p><span class="smcap">The</span> first half of the seventeenth century is one of the -great epochs of biological science. For though suggestions -and indications of the conceptions which -took definite shape, at that time, are to be met with -in works of earlier date, they are little more than the -shadows which coming truth casts forward; men’s -knowledge was neither extensive enough, nor exact -enough, to show them the solid body of fact which -threw these shadows.</p> - -<p>But, in the seventeenth century, the idea that the -physical processes of life are capable of being explained -in the same way as other physical phenomena, -and, therefore, that the living body is a mechanism, -was proved to be true for certain classes of vital -actions; and, having thus taken firm root in irrefragable -fact, this conception has not only successfully -repelled every assault which has been made upon it, -but has steadily grown in force and extent of application, -until it is now the expressed or implied -fundamental proposition of the whole doctrine of -scientific Physiology.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">200</a></span></p> - -<p>If we ask to whom mankind are indebted for this -great service, the general voice will name William -Harvey. For, by his discovery of the circulation of the -blood in the higher animals, by his explanation of the -nature of the mechanism by which that circulation is -effected, and by his no less remarkable, though less -known, investigations of the process of development, -Harvey solidly laid the foundations of all those -physical explanations of the functions of sustentation -and reproduction which modern physiologists have -achieved.</p> - -<p>But the living body is not only sustained and -reproduced: it adjusts itself to external and internal -changes; it moves and feels. The attempt to reduce -the endless complexities of animal motion and feeling -to law and order is, at least, as important a part of -the task of the physiologist as the elucidation of what -are sometimes called the vegetative processes. Harvey -did not make this attempt himself; but the -influence of his work upon the man who did make it -is patent and unquestionable. This man was René -Descartes, who, though by many years Harvey’s -junior, died before him; and yet, in his short span of -fifty-four years, took an undisputed place, not only -among the chiefs of philosophy, but amongst the -greatest and most original of mathematicians; while, -in my belief, he is no less certainly entitled to the -rank of a great and original physiologist; inasmuch as -he did for the physiology of motion and sensation -that which Harvey had done for the circulation of -the blood, and opened up that road to the mechanical<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">201</a></span> -theory of these processes, which has been followed by -all his successors.</p> - -<p>Descartes was no mere speculator, as some would -have us believe: but a man who knew of his own -knowledge what was to be known of the facts of -anatomy and physiology in his day. He was an -unwearied dissector and observer; and it is said, that, -on a visitor once asking to see his library, Descartes -led him into a room set aside for dissections, and full -of specimens under examination. “There,” said he, “is -my library.”</p> - -<p>I anticipate a smile of incredulity when I thus -champion Descartes’ claim to be considered a -physiologist of the first rank. I expect to be told -that I have read into his works what I find there, -and to be asked, Why is it that we are left to discover -Descartes’ deserts at this time of day, more -than two centuries after his death? How is it -that Descartes is utterly ignored in some of the latest -works which treat expressly of the subject in which -he is said to have been so great?</p> - -<p>It is much easier to ask such questions than to -answer them, especially if one desires to be on good -terms with one’s contemporaries; but, if I must give -an answer, it is this: The growth of physical science -is now so prodigiously rapid, that those who are -actively engaged in keeping up with the present, have -much ado to find time to look at the past, and even -grow into the habit of neglecting it. But, natural as -this result may be, it is none the less detrimental. -The intellect loses, for there is assuredly no more<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">202</a></span> -effectual method of clearing up one’s own mind on -any subject than by talking it over, so to speak, with -men of real power and grasp, who have considered it -from a totally different point of view. The parallax -of time helps us to the true position of a conception, -as the parallax of space helps us to that of a star. And -the moral nature loses no less. It is well to turn -aside from the fretful stir of the present and to dwell -with gratitude and respect upon the services of those -“mighty men of old who have gone down to the -grave with their weapons of war,” but who, while -they yet lived, won splendid victories over ignorance. -It is well, again, to reflect that the fame of Descartes -filled all Europe, and his authority overshadowed it, -for a century; while now, most of those who know -his name think of him, either as a person who had -some preposterous notions about vortices and was -deservedly annihilated by the great Sir Isaac Newton; -or as the apostle of an essentially vicious method of -deductive speculation; and that, nevertheless, neither -the chatter of shifting opinion, nor the silence of personal -oblivion, has in the slightest degree affected -the growth of the great ideas of which he was the -instrument and the mouthpiece.</p> - -<p>It is a matter of fact that the greatest physiologist -of the eighteenth century, Haller, in treating of the -functions of nerve, does little more than reproduce -and enlarge upon the ideas of Descartes. It is a -matter of fact that David Hartley, in his remarkable -work the “Essay on Man,” expressly, though still -insufficiently, acknowledges the resemblance of his<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">203</a></span> -fundamental conceptions to those of Descartes; and I -shall now endeavour to show that a series of propositions, -which constitute the foundation and essence of -the modern physiology of the nervous system, are -fully expressed and illustrated in the works of -Descartes.</p> - -<p class="indent">I. <i>The brain is the organ of sensation, thought, -and emotion; that is to say, some change in -the condition of the matter of this organ is the -invariable antecedent of the state of consciousness -to which each of these terms is applied.</i></p> - -<p>In the “Principes de la Philosophie” (§ 169), -Descartes says:—<a name="FNanchor_41_41" id="FNanchor_41_41"></a><a href="#Footnote_41_41" class="fnanchor">41</a></p> - -<div class="blockquot"> - -<p>“Although the soul is united to the whole body, its principal -functions are, nevertheless, performed in the brain; it is here -that it not only understands and imagines, but also feels; and -this is effected by the intermediation of the nerves, which extend -in the form of delicate threads from the brain to all parts of the -body, to which they are attached in such a manner, that we can -hardly touch any part of the body without setting the extremity -of some nerve in motion. This motion passes along the nerve to -that part of the brain which is the common sensorium, as I have -sufficiently explained in my Treatise on Dioptrics; and the -movements which thus travel along the nerves, as far as that -part of the brain with which the soul is closely joined and united, -cause it, by reason of their diverse characters, to have different -thoughts. And it is these different thoughts of the soul, which -arise immediately from the movements that are excited by the -nerves in the brain, which we properly term our feelings, or the -perceptions of our senses.”</p></div> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">204</a></span></p> -<p>Elsewhere,<a name="FNanchor_42_42" id="FNanchor_42_42"></a><a href="#Footnote_42_42" class="fnanchor">42</a> Descartes, in arguing that the seat of -the passions is not (as many suppose) the heart, but -the brain, uses the following remarkable language:—</p> - -<div class="blockquot"> - -<p>“The opinion of those who think that the soul receives its -passions in the heart, is of no weight, for it is based upon the -fact that the passions cause a change to be felt in that organ; -and it is easy to see that this change is felt, as if it were in the -heart, only by the intermediation of a little nerve which descends -from the brain to it; Just as pain is felt, as if it were in the -foot, by the intermediation of the nerves of the foot; and the -stars are perceived, as if they were in the heavens, by the intermediation -of their light and of the optic nerves. So that it is no -more necessary for the soul to exert its functions immediately in -the heart, to feel its passions there, than it is necessary that it -should be in the heavens to see the stars there.”</p></div> - -<p>This definite allocation of all the phenomena of -consciousness to the brain as their organ, was a step -the value of which it is difficult for us to appraise, so -completely has Descartes’ view incorporated itself with -every-day thought and common language. A lunatic -is said to be “crack-brained” or “touched in the -head,” a confused thinker is “muddle-headed,” while -a clever man is said to have “plenty of brains;” but it -must be remembered that at the end of the last -century a considerable, though much over-estimated, -anatomist, Bichat, so far from having reached the -level of Descartes, could gravely argue that the apparatuses -of organic life are the sole seat of the passions, -which in no way affect the brain, except so far as it is -the agent by which the influence of the passions is -transmitted to the muscles.<a name="FNanchor_43_43" id="FNanchor_43_43"></a><a href="#Footnote_43_43" class="fnanchor">43</a></p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">205</a></span></p> - -<p>Modern physiology, aided by pathology, easily -demonstrates that the brain is the seat of all forms of -consciousness, and fully bears out Descartes’ explanation -of the reference of those sensations in the viscera -which accompany intense emotion, to these organs. -It proves, directly, that those states of consciousness -which we call sensations are the immediate consequent -of a change in the brain excited by the sensory nerves; -and, on the well-known effects of injuries, of stimulants, -and of narcotics, it bases the conclusion that -thought and emotion are, in like manner, the consequents -of physical antecedents.</p> - -<p class="indent">II. <i>The movements of animals are due to the -change of form of muscles, which shorten -and become thicker; and this change of form -in a muscle arises from a motion of the substance -contained within the nerves which go -to the muscle</i>.</p> - -<p>In the “Passions de l’Âme,” Art. vii., Descartes -writes:—</p> - -<div class="blockquot"> - -<p>“Moreover, we know that all the movements of the limbs -depend on the muscles, and that these muscles are opposed to -one another in such a manner, that when one of them shortens, -it draws along the part of the body to which it is attached, and -so gives rise to a simultaneous elongation of the muscle which is -opposed to it. Then, if it happens, afterwards, that the latter -shortens, it causes the former to elongate, and draws towards -itself the part to which it is attached. Lastly, we know that all -these movements of the muscles, as all the senses, depend on the -nerves, which are like little threads or tubes, which all come from -the brain, and, like it, contain a certain very subtle air or wind, -termed the animal spirits.”</p></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">206</a></span></p> - -<p>The property of muscle mentioned by Descartes -now goes by the general name of contractility, but -his definition of it remains untouched. The long-continued -controversy whether contractile substance, -speaking generally, has an inherent power of contraction, -or whether it contracts only in virtue of an -influence exerted by nerve, is now settled in Haller’s -favour; but Descartes’ statement of the dependence -of muscular contraction on nerve holds good for the -higher forms of muscle, under normal circumstances; -so that, although the structure of the various modifications -of contractile matter has been worked out -with astonishing minuteness—although the delicate -physical and chemical changes which accompany muscular -contraction have been determined to an extent -of which Descartes could not have dreamed, and have -quite upset his hypothesis that the cause of the shortening -and thickening of the muscle is the flow of -animal spirits into it from the nerves—the important -and fundamental part of his statement remains perfectly -true.</p> - -<p>The like may be affirmed of what he says about -nerve. We know now that nerves are not exactly -tubes, and that “animal spirits” are myths; but the -exquisitely refined methods of investigation of Dubois-Reymond -and of Helmholz have no less clearly proved -that the antecedent of ordinary muscular contraction -is a motion of the molecules of the nerve going to the -muscle; and that this motion is propagated with a -measurable, and by no means great, velocity, through -the substance of the nerve towards the muscle.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">207</a></span></p> - -<p>With the progress of research, the term “animal -spirits” gave way to “nervous fluid,” and “nervous -fluid” has now given way to “molecular motion of -nerve-substance.” Our conceptions of what takes -place in nerve have altered in the same way as our -conceptions of what takes place in a conducting wire -have altered, since electricity was shown to be not a -fluid, but a mode of molecular motion. The change -is of vast importance, but it does not affect Descartes’ -fundamental idea, that a change in the substance of a -motor nerve propagated towards a muscle is the ordinary -cause of muscular contraction.</p> - -<p class="indent">III. <i>The sensations of animals are due to a -motion of the substance of the nerves which -connect the sensory organs with the brain.</i></p> - -<p>In <cite>La Dioptrique</cite> (Discours Quatrième), Descartes -explains, more fully than in the passage cited above, -his hypothesis of the mode of action of sensory -nerves:—</p> - -<div class="blockquot"> - -<p>“It is the little threads of which the inner substance of the -nerves is composed which subserve sensation. You must conceive -that these little threads, being inclosed in tubes, which are -always distended and kept open by the animal spirits which they -contain, neither press upon nor interfere with one another, and -are extended from the brain to the extremities of all the members -which are sensitive—in such a manner, that the slightest -touch which excites the part of one of the members to which a -thread is attached, gives rise to a motion of the part of the brain -whence it arises, just as by pulling one of the ends of a stretched -cord, the other end is instantaneously moved.... And we -must take care not to imagine that, in order to feel, the soul -needs to behold certain images sent by the objects of sense to -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">208</a></span>the brain, as our philosophers commonly suppose; or, at least, -we must conceive these images to be something quite different -from what they suppose them to be. For, as all they suppose is -that these images ought to resemble the objects which they represent, -it is impossible for them to show how they can be -formed by the objects received by the organs of the external -senses and transmitted to the brain. And they have had no -reason for supposing the existence of these images except this; -seeing that the mind is readily excited by a picture to conceive -the object which is depicted, they have thought that it must be -excited in the same way to conceive those objects which affect -our senses by little pictures of them formed in the head; instead -of which we ought to recollect that there are many things besides -images which may excite the mind, as, for example, signs -and words, which have not the least resemblance to the objects -which they signify.”<a name="FNanchor_44_44" id="FNanchor_44_44"></a><a href="#Footnote_44_44" class="fnanchor">44</a></p></div> - -<p>Modern physiology amends Descartes’ conception -of the mode of action of sensory nerves in detail, by -showing that their structure is the same as that of -motor nerves; and that the changes which take place -in them, when the sensory organs with which they -are connected are excited, are of just the same nature -as those which occur in motor nerves, when the -muscles to which they are distributed are made to -contract: there is a molecular change which, in the case -of the sensory nerve, is propagated towards the brain. -But the great fact insisted upon by Descartes, that no -likeness of external things is, or can be, transmitted to -the mind by the sensory organs; on the contrary, that, -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">209</a></span>between the external cause of a sensation and the -sensation, there is interposed a mode of motion of -nervous matter, of which the state of consciousness is -no likeness, but a mere symbol, is of the profoundest -importance. It is the physiological foundation of the -doctrine of the relativity of knowledge, and a more -or less complete idealism is a necessary consequence -of it.</p> - -<p>For of two alternatives one must be true. Either -consciousness is the function of a something distinct -from the brain, which we call the soul, and a sensation -is the mode in which this soul is affected by the -motion of a part of the brain; or there is no soul, and -a sensation is something generated by the mode of -motion of a part of the brain. In the former case, -the phenomena of the senses are purely spiritual -affections; in the latter, they are something manufactured -by the mechanism of the body, and as unlike -the causes which set that mechanism in motion, as the -sound of a repeater is unlike the pushing of the spring -which gives rise to it.</p> - -<p>The nervous system stands between consciousness -and the assumed external world, as an interpreter who -can talk with his fingers stands between a hidden -speaker and a man who is stone deaf—and Realism is -equivalent to a belief on the part of the deaf man, -that the speaker must also be talking with his fingers. -“<span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">Les extrêmes se touchent;</span>” the shibboleth of materialists -that “thought is a secretion of the brain,” is the -Fichtean doctrine that “the phenomenal universe is -the creation of the Ego,” expressed in other language.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">210</a></span></p> - -<p class="indent">IV. <i>The motion of the matter of a sensory nerve -may be transmitted through the brain to -motor nerves, and thereby give rise to contraction -of the muscles to which these motor -nerves are distributed; and this reflection -of motion from a sensory into a motor nerve -may take place without volition, or even contrary -to it.</i></p> - -<p>In stating these important truths, Descartes -defined that which we now term “reflex action.” -Indeed he almost uses the term itself, as he talks of -the “animal spirits” as “réfléchis,”<a name="FNanchor_45_45" id="FNanchor_45_45"></a><a href="#Footnote_45_45" class="fnanchor">45</a> from the sensory -into the motor nerves. And that this use of the -word “reflected” was no mere accident, but that the -importance and appropriateness of the idea it suggests -was fully understood by Descartes’ contemporaries, is -apparent from a passage in Willis’s well-known essay, -“De Animâ Brutorum,” published in 1672, in which, -in giving an account of Descartes’ views, he speaks of -the animal spirits being diverted into motor channels, -“velut undulatione reflexâ.”<a name="FNanchor_46_46" id="FNanchor_46_46"></a><a href="#Footnote_46_46" class="fnanchor">46</a></p> - -<p>Nothing can be clearer in statement, or in illustration, -than the view of reflex action which Descartes -gives in the “Passions de l’Âme,” Art. xiii.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">211</a></span></p> - -<p>After recapitulating the manner in which sensory -impressions transmitted by the sensory nerves to the -brain give rise to sensation, he proceeds:—</p> - -<div class="blockquot"> - -<p>“And in addition to the different feelings excited in the -soul by these different motions of the brain, the animal spirits, -without the intervention of the soul, may take their course -towards certain muscles, rather than towards others, and thus -move the limbs, as I shall prove by an example. If some one -moves his hand rapidly towards our eyes, as if he were going to -strike us, although we know that he is a friend, that he does it -only in jest, and that he will be very careful to do us no harm, -nevertheless it will be hard to keep from winking. And this -shows, that it is not by the agency of the soul that the eyes -shut, since this action is contrary to that volition which is the -only, or at least the chief, function of the soul; but it is because -the mechanism of our body is so disposed, that the motion of -the hand towards our eyes excites another movement in our -brain, and this sends the animal spirits into those muscles which -cause the eyelids to close.”</p></div> - -<p>Since Descartes’ time, experiment has eminently -enlarged our knowledge of the details of reflex action. -The discovery of Bell has enabled us to follow the -tracks of the sensory and motor impulses, along distinct -bundles of nerve fibres; and the spinal cord, -apart from the brain, has been proved to be a great -centre of reflex action; but the fundamental conception -remains as Descartes left it, and it is one of the -pillars of nerve physiology at the present day.</p> - -<p class="indent">V. <i>The motion of any given portion of the matter -of the brain excited by the motion of a sensory -nerve, leaves behind a readiness to be moved -in the same way, in that part. Anything -which resuscitates the motion gives rise to the -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">212</a></span>appropriate feeling. This is the physical -mechanism of memory</i>.</p> - -<p>Descartes imagined that the pineal body (a curious -appendage to the upper side of the brain, the function -of which, if it have any, is wholly unknown) was the -instrument through which the soul received impressions -from, and communicated them to, the brain. -And he thus endeavours to explain what happens -when one tries to recollect something:—</p> - -<div class="blockquot"> - -<p>“Thus when the soul wills to remember anything, this -volition, causing the [pineal] gland to incline itself in different -directions, drives the [animal] spirits towards different regions of -the brain, until they reach that part in which are the traces, -which the object which it desires to remember has left. These -traces are produced thus: those pores of the brain through -which the [animal] spirits have previously been driven, by reason -of the presence of the object, have thereby acquired a tendency -to be opened by the animal spirits which return towards them, -more easily than other pores, so that the animal spirits, impinging -on these pores, enter them more readily than others. By -this means they excite a particular movement in the pineal -gland, which represents the object to the soul, and causes it to -know what it is which it desired to recollect.”<a name="FNanchor_47_47" id="FNanchor_47_47"></a><a href="#Footnote_47_47" class="fnanchor">47</a></p></div> - -<p>That memory is dependent upon some condition -of the brain is a fact established by many considerations—among -the most important of which are the -remarkable phenomena of aphasia. And that the -condition of the brain on which memory depends, is -largely determined by the repeated occurrence of that -condition of its molecules, which gives rise to the -idea of the thing remembered, is no less certain. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">213</a></span> -Every boy who learns his lesson by repeating it -exemplifies the fact. Descartes, as we have seen, -supposes that the pores of a given part of the brain -are stretched by the animal spirits, on the occurrence -of a sensation, and that the part of the brain thus -stretched, being imperfectly elastic, does not return to -exactly its previous condition, but remains more distensible -than it was before. Hartley supposes that -the vibrations, excited by a sensory, or other, impression, -do not die away, but are represented by smaller -vibrations or “vibratiuncules,” the permanency and -intensity of which are in relation with the frequency -of repetition of the primary vibrations. Haller has -substantially the same idea, but contents himself with -the general term “mutationes,” to express the cerebral -change which is the cause of a state of consciousness. -These “mutationes” persist for a long time after the -cause which gives rise to them has ceased to operate, -and are arranged in the brain according to the order -of coexistence and succession of their causes. And he -gives these persistent “mutationes” the picturesque -name of <i>vestigia rerum</i>, <span lang="la" xml:lang="la">“quæ non in mente sed in -ipso corpore et in medulla quidem cerebri ineffabili -modo incredibiliter minutis notis et copia infinita, -inscriptæ sunt.”</span><a name="FNanchor_48_48" id="FNanchor_48_48"></a><a href="#Footnote_48_48" class="fnanchor">48</a> I do not know that any modern -theory of the physical conditions of memory differs -essentially from these, which are all children—<span lang="la" xml:lang="la">mutatis -mutandis</span>—of the Cartesian doctrine. Physiology is, -at present, incompetent to say anything positively -about the matter, or to go farther than the expression -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">214</a></span>of the high probability, that every molecular change -which gives rise to a state of consciousness, leaves a -more or less persistent structural modification, through -which the same molecular change may be regenerated -by other agencies than the cause which first produced -it.</p> - -<p>Thus far, the propositions respecting the physiology -of the nervous system which are stated by Descartes -have simply been more clearly defined, more fully -illustrated, and, for the most part, demonstrated, by -modern physiological research. But there remains a -doctrine to which Descartes attached great weight, so -that full acceptance of it became a sort of note of a -thorough-going Cartesian, but which, nevertheless, is -so opposed to ordinary prepossessions that it attained -more general notoriety, and gave rise to more discussion, -than almost any other Cartesian hypothesis. It -is the doctrine, that brute animals are mere machines -or automata, devoid not only of reason, but of any -kind of consciousness, which is stated briefly in the -“Discours de la Méthode,” and more fully in the -“Réponses aux Quatrièmes Objections,” and in the -correspondence with Henry More.<a name="FNanchor_49_49" id="FNanchor_49_49"></a><a href="#Footnote_49_49" class="fnanchor">49</a></p> - -<p>The process of reasoning by which Descartes -arrived at this startling conclusion is well shown in -the following passage of the “Réponses:”—</p> - -<div class="blockquot"> - -<p>“But as regards the souls of beasts, although this is not the -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">215</a></span>place for considering them, and though, without a general -exposition of physics, I can say no more on this subject than I -have already said in the fifth part of my Treatise on Method; -yet, I will further state, here, that it appears to me to be a very -remarkable circumstance that no movement can take place, either -in the bodies of beasts, or even in our own, if these bodies have -not in themselves all the organs and instruments by means of -which the very same movements would be accomplished in a -machine. So that, even in us, the spirit, or the soul, does not -directly move the limbs, but only determines the course of that -very subtle liquid which is called the animal spirits, which, -running continually from the heart by the brain into the muscles, -is the cause of all the movements of our limbs, and often may -cause many different motions, one as easily as the other.</p> - -<p>“And it does not even always exert this determination; for -among the movements which take place in us, there are many -which do not depend on the mind at all, such as the beating of -the heart, the digestion of food, the nutrition, the respiration, -of those who sleep; and, even in those who are awake, walking, -singing, and other similar actions, when they are performed -without the mind thinking about them. And, when one who -falls from a height throws his hands forwards to save his head, -it is in virtue of no ratiocination that he performs this action; -it does not depend upon his mind, but takes place merely -because his senses being affected by the present danger, some -change arises in his brain which determines the animal spirits -to pass thence into the nerves, in such a manner as is required -to produce this motion, in the same way as in a machine, and -without the mind being able to hinder it. Now since we observe -this in ourselves, why should we be so much astonished if the -light reflected from the body of a wolf into the eye of a sheep -has the same force to excite in it the motion of flight?</p> - -<p>“After having observed this, if we wish to learn by reasoning, -whether certain movements of beasts are comparable to those -which are effected in us by the operation of the mind, or, on the -contrary, to those which depend only on the animal spirits and -the disposition of the organs, it is necessary to consider the -difference between the two, which I have explained in the fifth -part of the Discourse on Method (for I do not think that any others -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">216</a></span>are discoverable), and then it will easily be seen, that all the actions -of beasts are similar only to those which we perform without the -help of our minds. For which reason we shall be forced to -conclude, that we know of the existence in them of no other -principle of motion than the disposition of their organs and the -continual affluence of animal spirits produced by the heat of the -heart, which attenuates and subtilises the blood; and, at the -same time, we shall acknowledge that we have had no reason for -assuming any other principle, except that, not having distinguished -these two principles of motion, and seeing that the one, which -depends only on the animal spirits and the organs, exists in beasts -as well as in us, we have hastily concluded that the other, which -depends on mind and on thought, was also possessed by them.”</p></div> - -<p>Descartes’ line of argument is perfectly clear. He -starts from reflex action in man, from the unquestionable -fact that, in ourselves, co-ordinate, purposive, -actions may take place, without the intervention of -consciousness or volition, or even contrary to the -latter. As actions of a certain degree of complexity -are brought about by mere mechanism, why may not -actions of still greater complexity be the result of a -more refined mechanism? What proof is there that -brutes are other than a superior race of marionettes, -which eat without pleasure, cry without pain, desire -nothing, know nothing, and only simulate intelligence -as a bee simulates a mathematician?<a name="FNanchor_50_50" id="FNanchor_50_50"></a><a href="#Footnote_50_50" class="fnanchor">50</a></p> - -<p>The Port Royalists adopted the hypothesis that -brutes are machines, and are said to have carried its -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">217</a></span>practical applications so far, as to treat domestic -animals with neglect, if not with actual cruelty. As -late as the middle of the eighteenth century, the problem -was discussed very fully and ably by Bouillier, -in his “Essai philosophique sur l’Âme des Bêtes,” -while Condillac deals with it in his “Traité des -Animaux;” but since then it has received little -attention. Nevertheless, modern research has brought -to light a great multitude of facts, which not only -show that Descartes’ view is defensible, but render it -far more defensible than it was in his day.</p> - -<p>It must be premised, that it is wholly impossible -absolutely to prove the presence or absence of consciousness -in anything but one’s own brain, though, -by analogy, we are justified in assuming its existence -in other men. Now if, by some accident, a man’s -spinal cord is divided, his limbs are paralysed, so far -as his volition is concerned, below the point of injury; -and he is incapable of experiencing all those states of -consciousness, which, in his uninjured state, would be -excited by irritation of those nerves which come off -below the injury. If the spinal cord is divided in -the middle of the back, for example, the skin of the -feet may be cut, or pinched, or burned, or wetted -with vitriol, without any sensation of touch, or of -pain, arising in consciousness. So far as the man is -concerned, therefore, the part of the central nervous -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">218</a></span>system which lies beyond the injury is cut off from -consciousness. It must indeed be admitted, that, if -any one think fit to maintain that the spinal cord -below the injury is conscious, but that it is cut off -from any means of making its consciousness known -to the other consciousness in the brain, there is no -means of driving him from his position by logic. -But assuredly there is no way of proving it, and in -the matter of consciousness, if in anything, we may -hold by the rule, “De non apparentibus et de non -existentibus eadem est ratio.” However near the -brain the spinal cord is injured, consciousness remains -intact, except that the irritation of parts below the -injury is no longer represented by sensation. On the -other hand, pressure upon the anterior division of the -brain, or extensive injuries to it, abolish consciousness. -Hence, it is a highly probable conclusion, that -consciousness in man depends upon the integrity of -the anterior division of the brain, while the middle -and hinder divisions of the brain, and the rest of the -nervous centres, have nothing to do with it. And it -is further highly probable, that what is true for man -is true for other vertebrated animals.</p> - -<p>We may assume, then, that in a living vertebrated -animal, any segment of the cerebro-spinal axis (or -spinal cord and brain) separated from that anterior -division of the brain which is the organ of consciousness, -is as completely incapable of giving rise to -consciousness, as we know it to be incapable of carrying -out volitions. Nevertheless, this separated segment -of the spinal cord is not passive and inert. On<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">219</a></span> -the contrary, it is the seat of extremely remarkable -powers. In our imaginary case of injury, the man -would, as we have seen, be devoid of sensation in his -legs, and would have not the least power of moving -them. But, if the soles of his feet were tickled, the -legs would be drawn up, just as vigorously as they -would have been before the injury. We know -exactly what happens when the soles of the feet are -tickled; a molecular change takes place in the sensory -nerves of the skin, and is propagated along them -and through the posterior roots of the spinal nerves, -which are constituted by them, to the grey matter -of the spinal cord. Through that grey matter, the -molecular motion is reflected into the anterior roots of -the same nerves, constituted by the filaments which -supply the muscles of the legs, and, travelling along -these motor filaments, reaches the muscles, which at -once contract, and cause the limbs to be drawn up.</p> - -<p>In order to move the legs in this way, a definite -co-ordination of muscular contractions is necessary; -the muscles must contract in a certain order and with -duly proportioned force; and moreover, as the feet -are drawn away from the source of irritation, it may -be said that the action has a final cause, or is -purposive.</p> - -<p>Thus it follows, that the grey matter of the segment -of the man’s spinal cord, though it is devoid -of consciousness, nevertheless responds to a simple -stimulus by giving rise to a complex set of muscular -contractions, co-ordinated towards a definite end, and -serving an obvious purpose.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">220</a></span></p> - -<p>If the spinal cord of a frog is cut across, so as to -provide us with a segment separated from the brain, -we shall have a subject parallel to the injured man, -on which experiments can be made without remorse; -as we have a right to conclude that a frog’s spinal -cord is not likely to be conscious, when a man’s -is not.</p> - -<p>Now the frog behaves just as the man did. The -legs are utterly paralysed, so far as voluntary movement -is concerned; but they are vigorously drawn up -to the body when any irritant is applied to the foot. -But let us study our frog a little farther. Touch the -skin of the side of the body with a little acetic acid, -which gives rise to all the signs of great pain in an -uninjured frog. In this case, there can be no pain, -because the application is made to a part of the skin -supplied with nerves which come off from the cord -below the point of section; nevertheless, the frog -lifts up the limb of the same side, and applies the -foot to rub off the acetic acid; and, what is still more -remarkable, if the limb be held so that the frog -cannot use it, it will, by-and-by, move the limb of -the other side, turn it across the body, and use it for -the same rubbing process. It is impossible that the -frog, if it were in its entirety and could reason, -should perform actions more purposive than these: -and yet we have most complete assurance that, in -this case, the frog is not acting from purpose, has no -consciousness, and is a mere insensible machine.</p> - -<p>But now suppose that, instead of making a section -of the cord in the middle of the body, it had been<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">221</a></span> -made in such a manner as to separate the hindermost -division of the brain from the rest of the organ, -and suppose the foremost two-thirds of the brain -entirely taken away. The frog is then absolutely -devoid of any spontaneity; it sits upright in the -attitude which a frog habitually assumes; and it will -not stir unless it is touched; but it differs from the -frog which I have just described in this, that, if it be -thrown into the water, it begins to swim, and swims -just as well as the perfect frog does. But swimming -requires the combination and successive co-ordination -of a great number of muscular actions. And we are -forced to conclude, that the impression made upon -the sensory nerves of the skin of the frog by the contact -with the water into which it is thrown, causes the -transmission to the central nervous apparatus of an -impulse, which sets going a certain machinery by -which all the muscles of swimming are brought into -play in due co-ordination. If the frog be stimulated -by some irritating body, it jumps or walks as well -as the complete frog can do. The simple sensory -impression, acting through the machinery of the cord, -gives rise to these complex combined movements.</p> - -<p>It is possible to go a step farther. Suppose that -only the anterior division of the brain—so much of it -as lies in front of the “optic lobes”—is removed. If -that operation is performed quickly and skilfully, the -frog may be kept in a state of full bodily vigour for -months, or it may be for years; but it will sit unmoved. -It sees nothing; it hears nothing. It will -starve sooner than feed itself, although food put into<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">222</a></span> -its mouth is swallowed. On irritation, it jumps or -walks; if thrown into the water it swims. If it be -put on the hand, it sits there, crouched, perfectly -quiet, and would sit there for ever. If the hand be -inclined very gently and slowly, so that the frog -would naturally tend to slip off, the creature’s fore -paws are shifted on to the edge of the hand, until he can -just prevent himself from falling. If the turning of -the hand be slowly continued, he mounts up with great -care and deliberation, putting first one leg forward -and then another, until he balances himself with -perfect precision upon the edge; and, if the turning of -the hand is continued, over he goes through the -needful set of muscular operations, until he comes to -be seated in security, upon the back of the hand. The -doing of all this requires a delicacy of co-ordination, -and a precision of adjustment of the muscular apparatus -of the body, which are only comparable to those of a -rope-dancer. To the ordinary influences of light, the -frog, deprived of its cerebral hemispheres, appears to -be blind. Nevertheless, if the animal be put upon a -table, with a book at some little distance between it -and the light, and the skin of the hinder part of its -body is then irritated, it will jump forward, avoiding -the book by passing to the right or left of it. -Therefore, although the frog appears to have no -sensation of light, visible objects act through its brain -upon the motor mechanism of its body.<a name="FNanchor_51_51" id="FNanchor_51_51"></a><a href="#Footnote_51_51" class="fnanchor">51</a></p> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">223</a></span></p> -<p>It is obvious, that had Descartes been acquainted -with these remarkable results of modern research, -they would have furnished him with far more powerful -arguments than he possessed in favour of his view -of the automatism of brutes. The habits of a frog, -leading its natural life, involve such simple adaptations -to surrounding conditions, that the machinery -which is competent to do so much without the intervention -of consciousness, might well do all. And this -argument is vastly strengthened by what has been -learned in recent times of the marvellously complex -operations which are performed mechanically, and to -all appearance without consciousness, by men, when, -in consequence of injury or disease, they are reduced -to a condition more or less comparable to that of a -frog, in which the anterior part of the brain has been -removed. A case has recently been published by an -eminent French physician, Dr. Mesnet, which illustrates -this condition so remarkably, that I make no -apology for dwelling upon it at considerable length.<a name="FNanchor_52_52" id="FNanchor_52_52"></a><a href="#Footnote_52_52" class="fnanchor">52</a></p> - -<p>A sergeant of the French army, F——, twenty-seven -years of age, was wounded during the battle of -Bazeilles, by a ball which fractured his left parietal -bone. He ran his bayonet through the Prussian -soldier who wounded him, but almost immediately -his right arm became paralysed; after walking about -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">224</a></span>two hundred yards, his right leg became similarly -affected, and he lost his senses. When he recovered -them, three weeks afterwards, in hospital at Mayence, -the right half of the body was completely paralysed, -and remained in this condition for a year. At present, -the only trace of the paralysis which remains is a -slight weakness of the right half of the body. Three -or four months after the wound was inflicted, periodical -disturbances of the functions of the brain made -their appearance, and have continued ever since. The -disturbances last from fifteen to thirty hours; the -intervals at which they occur being from fifteen to -thirty days.</p> - -<p>For four years, therefore, the life of this man -has been divided into alternating phases—short -abnormal states intervening between long normal -states.</p> - -<p>In the periods of normal life, the ex-sergeant’s -health is perfect; he is intelligent and kindly, and -performs, satisfactorily, the duties of a hospital -attendant. The commencement of the abnormal -state is ushered in by uneasiness and a sense of -weight about the forehead, which the patient compares -to the constriction of a circle of iron; and, -after its termination, he complains, for some hours, -of dulness and heaviness of the head. But the -transition from the normal to the abnormal state -takes place in a few minutes, without convulsions -or cries, and without anything to indicate the change -to a bystander. His movements remain free and his -expression calm, except for a contraction of the brow,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">225</a></span> -an incessant movement of the eyeballs, and a chewing -motion of the jaws. The eyes are wide open, and -their pupils dilated. If the man happens to be in a -place to which he is accustomed, he walks about as -usual; but, if he is in a new place, or if obstacles are -intentionally placed in his way, he stumbles gently -against them, stops, and then, feeling over the objects -with his hands, passes on one side of them. He offers -no resistance to any change of direction which may -be impressed upon him, or to the forcible acceleration -or retardation of his movements. He eats, drinks, -smokes, walks about, dresses and undresses himself, -rises and goes to bed at the accustomed hours. -Nevertheless, pins may be run into his body, or -strong electric shocks sent through it, without causing -the least indication of pain; no odorous substance, -pleasant or unpleasant, makes the least impression; -he eats and drinks with avidity whatever is offered, -and takes asafœtida, or vinegar, or quinine, as readily -as water; no noise affects him; and light influences -him only under certain conditions. Dr. Mesnet remarks, -that the sense of touch alone seems to persist, -and indeed to be more acute and delicate than in the -normal state; and it is by means of the nerves -of touch, almost exclusively, that his organism is -brought into relation with the external world. Here -a difficulty arises. It is clear from the facts detailed, -that the nervous apparatus by which, in the normal -state, sensations of touch are excited, is that by -which external influences determine the movements -of the body, in the abnormal state. But does the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">226</a></span> -state of consciousness, which we term a tactile sensation, -accompany the operation of this nervous -apparatus in the abnormal state? or is consciousness -utterly absent, the man being reduced to an insensible -mechanism?</p> - -<p>It is impossible to obtain direct evidence in -favour of the one conclusion or the other; all that -can be said is, that the case of the frog shows that -the man may be devoid of any kind of consciousness.</p> - -<p>A further difficult problem is this. The man is -insensible to sensory impressions made through the -ear, the nose, the tongue, and, to a great extent, the -eye; nor is he susceptible of pain from causes operating -during his abnormal state. Nevertheless, it is -possible so to act upon his tactile apparatus, as to -give rise to those molecular changes in his sensorium, -which are ordinarily the causes of associated trains of -ideas. I give a striking example of this process in -Dr. Mesnet’s words:—</p> - -<div class="blockquot"> - -<p lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">“Il se promenait dans le jardin, sous un massif d’arbres, on -lui remet à la main sa canne qu’il avait laissé tomber quelques -minutes avant. Il la palpe, promène à plusieurs reprises la main -sur la poignée coudée de sa canne—devient attentif—semble -prêter l’oreille—et, tout-à-coup, appelle ‘Henri!’ Puis, ‘Les -voilà! Ils sont au moins une vingtaine! à nous deux, nous en -viendrons à bout!’ Et alors portant la main derrière son dos -comme pour prendre une cartouche, il fait le mouvement de -charger son arme, se couche dans l’herbe à plat ventre, la tête -cachée par un arbre, dans la position d’un tirailleur, et suit, -l’arme épaulée, tous les mouvements de l’ennemi qu’il croit voir -à courte distance.”</p></div> - -<p>In a subsequent abnormal period, Dr. Mesnet<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">227</a></span> -caused the patient to repeat this scene by placing -him in the same conditions. Now, in this case, the -question arises whether the series of actions constituting -this singular pantomime was accompanied by -the ordinary states of consciousness, the appropriate -train of ideas, or not? Did the man dream that he -was skirmishing? or was he in the condition of one of -Vaucauson’s automata—a senseless mechanism worked -by molecular changes in his nervous system? The -analogy of the frog shows that the latter assumption -is perfectly justifiable.</p> - -<p>The ex-sergeant has a good voice, and had, at one -time, been employed as a singer at a café. In one of -his abnormal states he was observed to begin humming -a tune. He then went to his room, dressed -himself carefully, and took up some parts of a periodical -novel, which lay on his bed, as if he were trying -to find something. Dr. Mesnet, suspecting that he -was seeking his music, made up one of these into a -roll and put it into his hand. He appeared satisfied, -took up his cane and went down-stairs to the door. -Here Dr. Mesnet turned him round, and he walked -quite contentedly, in the opposite direction, towards -the room of the concièrge. The light of the sun -shining through a window now happened to fall upon -him, and seemed to suggest the footlights of the stage -on which he was accustomed to make his appearance. -He stopped, opened his roll of imaginary -music, put himself into the attitude of a singer, and -sang, with perfect execution, three songs, one after -the other. After which he wiped his face with his<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">228</a></span> -handkerchief and drank, without a grimace, a tumbler -of strong vinegar and water which was put into his -hand.</p> - -<p>An experiment which may be performed upon the -frog deprived of the fore part of its brain, well known -as Göltz’s “Quak-versuch,” affords a parallel to this -performance. If the skin of a certain part of the back -of such a frog is gently stroked with the finger, it -immediately croaks. It never croaks unless it is so -stroked, and the croak always follows the stroke, just -as the sound of a repeater follows the touching of the -spring. In the frog, this “song” is innate—so to -speak <em>à priori</em>—and depends upon a mechanism in -the brain governing the vocal apparatus, which is set -at work by the molecular change set up in the sensory -nerves of the skin of the back by the contact of -a foreign body.</p> - -<p>In man there is also a vocal mechanism, and the -cry of an infant is in the same sense innate and <em>à -priori</em>, inasmuch as it depends on an organic relation -between its sensory nerves and the nervous mechanism -which governs the vocal apparatus. Learning to -speak, and learning to sing, are processes by which -the vocal mechanism is set to new tunes. A song -which has been learned has its molecular equivalent, -which potentially represents it in the brain, just as -a musical box wound up potentially represents an -overture. Touch the stop and the overture begins; -send a molecular impulse along the proper afferent -nerve and the singer begins his song.</p> - -<p>Again, the manner in which the frog, though<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">229</a></span> -apparently insensible to light, is yet, under some -circumstances, influenced by visual images, finds a -singular parallel in the case of the ex-sergeant.</p> - -<p>Sitting at a table, in one of his abnormal states, -he took up a pen, felt for paper and ink, and began -to write a letter to his general, in which he recommended -himself for a medal, on account of his good -conduct and courage. It occurred to Dr. Mesnet to -ascertain experimentally how far vision was concerned -in this act of writing. He therefore interposed a -screen between the man’s eyes and his hands; under -these circumstances he went on writing for a short -time, but the words became illegible, and he finally -stopped, without manifesting any discontent. On the -withdrawal of the screen he began to write again -where he had left off. The substitution of water for -ink in the inkstand had a similar result. He stopped, -looked at his pen, wiped it on his coat, dipped it in -the water, and began again, with the same effect.</p> - -<p>On one occasion, he began to write upon the topmost -of ten superimposed sheets of paper. After -he had written a line or two, this sheet was suddenly -drawn away. There was a slight expression of surprise, -but he continued his letter on the second sheet -exactly as if it had been the first. This operation -was repeated five times, so that the fifth sheet contained -nothing but the writer’s signature at the bottom -of the page. Nevertheless, when the signature was -finished, his eyes turned to the top of the blank sheet, -and he went through the form of reading over what -he had written, a movement of the lips accompany<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230">230</a></span>ing -each word; moreover, with his pen, he put in -such corrections as were needed, in that part of the -blank page which corresponded with the position of -the words which required correction, in the sheets -which had been taken away. If the five sheets had -been transparent, therefore, they would, when superposed, -have formed a properly written and corrected -letter.</p> - -<p>Immediately after he had written his letter, F—— -got up, walked down to the garden, made himself a -cigarette, lighted and smoked it. He was about to -prepare another, but sought in vain for his tobacco-pouch, -which had been purposely taken away. The -pouch was now thrust before his eyes and put under -his nose, but he neither saw nor smelt it; but, when -it was placed in his hand, he at once seized it, made a -fresh cigarette, and ignited a match to light the latter. -The match was blown out, and another lighted match -placed close before his eyes, but he made no attempt -to take it; and, if his cigarette was lighted for him, -he made no attempt to smoke. All this time the -eyes were vacant, and neither winked, nor exhibited -any contraction of the pupils. From these and other -experiments, Dr. Mesnet draws the conclusion that -his patient sees some things and not others; that the -sense of sight is accessible to all things which are -brought into relation with him by the sense of touch, -and, on the contrary, insensible to things which lie -outside this relation. He sees the match he holds, -and does not see any other.</p> - -<p>Just so the frog “sees” the book which is in the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">231</a></span> -way of his jump, at the same time that isolated visual -impressions take no effect upon him.<a name="FNanchor_53_53" id="FNanchor_53_53"></a><a href="#Footnote_53_53" class="fnanchor">53</a></p> - -<p>As I have pointed out, it is impossible to prove -that F—— is absolutely unconscious in his abnormal -state, but it is no less impossible to prove the contrary; -and the case of the frog goes a long way to -justify the assumption that, in the abnormal state, -the man is a mere insensible machine.</p> - -<p>If such facts as these had come under the knowledge -of Descartes, would they not have formed an -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">232</a></span>apt commentary upon that remarkable passage in the -“Traité de l’Homme,” which I have quoted elsewhere,<a name="FNanchor_54_54" id="FNanchor_54_54"></a><a href="#Footnote_54_54" class="fnanchor">54</a> -but which is worth repetition?—</p> - -<div class="blockquot"> - -<p>“All the functions which I have attributed to this machine -(the body), as the digestion of food, the pulsation of the heart -and of the arteries; the nutrition and the growth of the limbs; -respiration, wakefulness, and sleep; the reception of light, sounds, -odours, flavours, heat, and such like qualities, in the organs of -the external senses; the impression of the ideas of these in the -organ of common sensation and in the imagination; the retention -or the impression of these ideas on the memory: the internal -movements of the appetites and the passions; and lastly the external -movements of all the limbs, which follow so aptly, as well -the action of the objects which are presented to the senses, as the -impressions which meet in the memory, that they imitate as -nearly as possible those of a real man; I desire, I say, that you -should consider that these functions in the machine naturally -proceed from the mere arrangement of its organs, neither more -nor less than do the movements of a clock, or other automaton, -from that of its weights and its wheels; so that, so far as these are -concerned, it is not necessary to conceive any other vegetative or -sensitive soul, nor any other principle of motion or of life, than -the blood and the spirits agitated by the fire which burns continually -in the heart, and which is no wise essentially different -from all the fires which exist in inanimate bodies.”</p></div> - -<p>And would Descartes not have been justified in asking -why we need deny that animals are machines, when -men, in a state of unconsciousness, perform, mechanically, -actions as complicated and as seemingly rational -as those of any animals?</p> - -<p>But though I do not think that Descartes’ -hypothesis can be positively refuted, I am not disposed -to accept it. The doctrine of continuity is too -well established for it to be permissible to me to -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233">233</a></span>suppose that any complex natural phenomenon comes -into existence suddenly, and without being preceded -by simpler modifications; and very strong arguments -would be needed to prove that such complex phenomena, -as those of consciousness, first make their -appearance in man. We know, that, in the individual -man, consciousness grows from a dim glimmer to its -full light, whether we consider the infant advancing -in years, or the adult emerging from slumber and -swoon. We know, further, that the lower animals -possess, though less developed, that part of the brain -which we have every reason to believe to be the organ -of consciousness in man; and as, in other cases, function -and organ are proportional, so we have a right to -conclude it is with the brain; and that the brutes, -though they may not possess our intensity of consciousness, -and though, from the absence of language, they -can have no trains of thoughts, but only trains of -feelings, yet have a consciousness which, more or less -distinctly, foreshadows our own.</p> - -<p>I confess that, in view of the struggle for existence -which goes on in the animal world, and of the frightful -quantity of pain with which it must be accompanied, -I should be glad if the probabilities were in -favour of Descartes’ hypothesis; but, on the other -hand, considering the terrible practical consequences -to domestic animals which might ensue from any error -on our part, it is as well to err on the right side, if we -err at all, and deal with them as weaker brethren, who -are bound, like the rest of us, to pay their toll for -living, and suffer what is needful for the general good.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234">234</a></span> -As Hartley finely says, “We seem to be in the place -of God to them;” and we may justly follow the precedents -He sets in nature in our dealings with them.</p> - -<p>But though we may see reason to disagree with -Descartes’ hypothesis that brutes are unconscious -machines, it does not follow that he was wrong in regarding -them as automata. They may be more or -less conscious, sensitive, automata; and the view that -they are such conscious machines is that which is -implicitly, or explicitly, adopted by most persons. -When we speak of the actions of the lower animals -being guided by instinct and not by reason, what we -really mean is that, though they feel as we do, yet -their actions are the results of their physical organisation. -We believe, in short, that they are machines, -one part of which (the nervous system) not only sets -the rest in motion, and co-ordinates its movements in -relation with changes in surrounding bodies, but is -provided with special apparatus, the function of which -is the calling into existence of those states of consciousness -which are termed sensations, emotions, and -ideas. I believe that this generally accepted view is -the best expression of the facts at present known.</p> - -<p>It is experimentally demonstrable—any one who -cares to run a pin into himself may perform a sufficient -demonstration of the fact—that a mode of -motion of the nervous system is the immediate antecedent -of a state of consciousness. All but the -adherents of “Occasionalism,” or of the doctrine of -“Pre-established Harmony” (if any such now exist), -must admit that we have as much reason for regarding<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235">235</a></span> -the mode of motion of the nervous system as the cause -of the state of consciousness, as we have for regarding -any event as the cause of another. How the one -phenomenon causes the other we know, as much or as -little, as in any other case of causation; but we have -as much right to believe that the sensation is an effect -of the molecular change, as we have to believe that -motion is an effect of impact; and there is as much -propriety in saying that the brain evolves sensation, -as there is in saying that an iron rod, when hammered, -evolves heat.</p> - -<p>As I have endeavoured to show, we are justified -in supposing that something analogous to what -happens in ourselves takes place in the brutes, and -that the affections of their sensory nerves give rise to -molecular changes in the brain, which again give rise -to, or evolve, the corresponding states of consciousness. -Nor can there be any reasonable doubt that the -emotions of brutes, and such ideas as they possess, -are similarly dependent upon molecular brain changes. -Each sensory impression leaves behind a record in the -structure of the brain—an “ideagenous” molecule, so -to speak, which is competent, under certain conditions, -to reproduce, in a fainter condition, the state of consciousness -which corresponds with that sensory impression; -and it is these “ideagenous molecules” which -are the physical basis of memory.</p> - -<p>It may be assumed, then, that molecular changes -in the brain are the causes of all the states of consciousness -of brutes. Is there any evidence that these -states of consciousness may, conversely, cause those<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_236" id="Page_236">236</a></span> -molecular changes which give rise to muscular motion? -I see no such evidence. The frog walks, hops, swims, -and goes through his gymnastic performances quite as -well without consciousness, and consequently without -volition, as with it; and, if a frog, in his natural -state, possesses anything corresponding with what we -call volition, there is no reason to think that it is -anything but a concomitant of the molecular changes -in the brain which form part of the series involved in -the production of motion.</p> - -<p>The consciousness of brutes would appear to be -related to the mechanism of their body simply as a -collateral product of its working, and to be as completely -without any power of modifying that working -as the steam-whistle which accompanies the work of -a locomotive engine is without influence upon its -machinery. Their volition, if they have any, is an -emotion indicative of physical changes, not a cause of -such changes.</p> - -<p>This conception of the relations of states of consciousness -with molecular changes in the brain—of -<em>psychoses</em> with <em>neuroses</em>—does not prevent us from -ascribing free will to brutes. For an agent is free -when there is nothing to prevent him from doing that -which he desires to do. If a greyhound chases a -hare, he is a free agent, because his action is in entire -accordance with his strong desire to catch the hare; -while so long as he is held back by the leash he is not -free, being prevented by external force from following -his inclination. And the ascription of freedom to the -greyhound under the former circumstances is by no<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237">237</a></span> -means inconsistent with the other aspect of the facts -of the case—that he is a machine impelled to the -chase, and caused, at the same time, to have the desire -to catch the game by the impression which the rays of -light proceeding from the hare make upon his eyes, -and through them upon his brain.</p> - -<p>Much ingenious argument has, at various times, -been bestowed upon the question: How is it possible -to imagine that volition, which is a state of consciousness, -and, as such, has not the slightest community of -nature with matter in motion, can act upon the -moving matter of which the body is composed, as it -is assumed to do in voluntary acts? But if, as is -here suggested, the voluntary acts of brutes—or, in -other words, the acts which they desire to perform—are -as purely mechanical as the rest of their actions, -and are simply accompanied by the state of consciousness -called volition, the inquiry, so far as they are -concerned, becomes superfluous. Their volitions do -not enter into the chain of causation of their actions -at all.</p> - -<p>The hypothesis that brutes are conscious automata -is perfectly consistent with any view that may be -held respecting the often discussed and curious -question whether they have souls or not; and, if they -have souls, whether those souls are immortal or not. -It is obviously harmonious with the most literal -adherence to the text of Scripture concerning “the -beast that perisheth;” but it is not inconsistent with -the amiable conviction ascribed by Pope to his -“untutored savage,” that when he passes to the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238">238</a></span> -happy hunting-grounds in the sky, “his faithful dog -shall bear him company.” If the brutes have consciousness -and no souls, then it is clear that, in them, -consciousness is a direct function of material changes; -while, if they possess immaterial subjects of consciousness, -or souls, then, as consciousness is brought into -existence only as the consequence of molecular motion -of the brain, it follows that it is an indirect product -of material changes. The soul stands related to the -body as the bell of a clock to the works, and consciousness -answers to the sound which the bell gives -out when it is struck.</p> - -<p>Thus far I have strictly confined myself to the -problem with which I proposed to deal at starting—the -automatism of brutes. The question is, I believe, -a perfectly open one, and I feel happy in running no -risk of either Papal or Presbyterian condemnation for -the views which I have ventured to put forward. -And there are so very few interesting questions which -one is, at present, allowed to think out scientifically—to -go as far as reason leads, and stop where evidence -comes to an end—without speedily being deafened by -the tattoo of “the drum ecclesiastic”—that I have -luxuriated in my rare freedom, and would now -willingly bring this disquisition to an end if I could -hope that other people would go no farther. Unfortunately, -past experience debars me from entertaining -any such hope, even if</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="line">“<span class="gesperrt"> ..... </span>that drum’s discordant sound</div> -<div class="line">Parading round and round and round,”</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p>were not, at present, as audible to me, as it was to the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239">239</a></span> -mild poet who ventured to express his hatred of drums -in general, in that well-known couplet.</p> - -<p>It will be said, that I mean that the conclusions -deduced from the study of the brutes are applicable -to man, and that the logical consequences of such -application are fatalism, materialism, and atheism—whereupon -the drums will beat the <em lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">pas de charge</em>.</p> - -<p>One does not do battle with drummers; but I -venture to offer a few remarks for the calm consideration -of thoughtful persons, untrammelled by foregone -conclusions, unpledged to shore-up tottering dogmas, -and anxious only to know the true bearings of the -case.</p> - -<p>It is quite true that, to the best of my judgment, -the argumentation which applies to brutes holds -equally good of men; and, therefore, that all states -of consciousness in us, as in them, are immediately -caused by molecular changes of the brain-substance. -It seems to me that in men, as in brutes, there is no -proof that any state of consciousness is the cause of -change in the motion of the matter of the organism. -If these positions are well based, it follows that our -mental conditions are simply the symbols in consciousness -of the changes which take place automatically in -the organism; and that, to take an extreme illustration, -the feeling we call volition is not the cause of a -voluntary act, but the symbol of that state of the -brain which is the immediate cause of that act. We -are conscious automata, endowed with free will in the -only intelligible sense of that much-abused term—inasmuch -as in many respects we are able to do as we<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_240" id="Page_240">240</a></span> -like—but none the less parts of the great series of -causes and effects which, in unbroken continuity, -composes that which is, and has been, and shall be—the -sum of existence.</p> - -<p>As to the logical consequences of this conviction -of mine, I may be permitted to remark that logical -consequences are the scarecrows of fools and the -beacons of wise men. The only question which any -wise man can ask himself, and which any honest man -will ask himself, is whether a doctrine is true or false. -Consequences will take care of themselves; at most -their importance can only justify us in testing with -extra care the reasoning process from which they -result.</p> - -<p>So that if the view I have taken did really and -logically lead to fatalism, materialism, and atheism, -I should profess myself a fatalist, materialist, and -atheist; and I should look upon those who, while -they believed in my honesty of purpose and intellectual -competency, should raise a hue and cry against -me, as people who by their own admission preferred -lying to truth, and whose opinions therefore were -unworthy of the smallest attention.</p> - -<p>But, as I have endeavoured to explain on other -occasions, I really have no claim to rank myself -among fatalistic, materialistic, or atheistic philosophers. -Not among fatalists, for I take the conception -of necessity to have a logical, and not a physical -foundation; not among materialists, for I am utterly -incapable of conceiving the existence of matter if there -is no mind in which to picture that existence; not<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_241" id="Page_241">241</a></span> -among atheists, for the problem of the ultimate cause -of existence is one which seems to me to be hopelessly -out of reach of my poor powers. Of all the senseless -babble I have ever had occasion to read, the demonstrations -of these philosophers who undertake to tell -us all about the nature of God would be the worst, if -they were not surpassed by the still greater absurdities -of the philosophers who try to prove that there is no -God.</p> - -<p>And if this personal disclaimer should not be -enough, let me further point out that a great many -persons whose acuteness and learning will not be -contested, and whose Christian piety, and, in some -cases, strict orthodoxy, are above suspicion, have held -more or less definitely the view that man is a conscious -automaton.</p> - -<p>It is held, for example, in substance, by the whole -school of predestinarian theologians, typified by St. -Augustine, Calvin, and Jonathan Edwards—the great -work of the latter on the will showing in this, as in -other cases, that the growth of physical science has -introduced no new difficulties of principle into theological -problems, but has merely given visible body, -as it were, to those which already existed.</p> - -<p>Among philosophers, the pious Geulincx and the -whole school of occasionalist Cartesians held this view; -the orthodox Leibnitz invented the term “automate -spirituel,” and applied it to man; the fervent Christian, -Hartley, was one of the chief advocates and best -expositors of the doctrine; while another zealous -apologist of Christianity in a sceptical age, and a con<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_242" id="Page_242">242</a></span>temporary -of Hartley, Charles Bonnet, the Genevese -naturalist, has embodied the doctrine in language of -such precision and simplicity, that I will quote the -little-known passage of his “Essai de Psychologie” -at length:—</p> - -<div class="blockquot"> - -<p class="center padt1">“<span class="smcap">Another Hypothesis concerning the Mechanism -of Ideas.</span><a name="FNanchor_55_55" id="FNanchor_55_55"></a><a href="#Footnote_55_55" class="fnanchor">55</a></p> - -<p>“Philosophers accustomed to judge of things by that which -they are in themselves, and not by their relation to received -ideas, would not be shocked if they met with the proposition -that the soul is a mere spectator of the movements of its body: -that the latter performs of itself all that series of actions which -constitutes life: that it moves of itself: that it is the body alone -which reproduces ideas, compares and arranges them; which -forms reasonings, imagines and executes plans of all kinds, etc. -This hypothesis, though perhaps of an excessive boldness, nevertheless -deserves some consideration.</p> - -<p>“It is not to be denied that Supreme Power could create an -automaton which should exactly imitate all the external and -internal actions of man.</p> - -<p>“I understand by external actions, all those movements which -pass under our eyes; I term internal actions, all the motions -which in the natural state cannot be observed because they take -place in the interior of the body—such as the movements of -digestion, circulation, sensation, etc. Moreover, I include in this -category the movements which give rise to ideas, whatever be -their nature.</p> - -<p>“In the automaton which we are considering everything would -be precisely determined. Everything would occur according to -the rules of the most admirable mechanism: one state would -succeed another state, one operation would lead to another -operation, according to invariable laws; motion would become -alternately cause and effect, effect and cause; reaction would -answer to action, and reproduction to production.</p> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_243" id="Page_243">243</a></span> -<p>“Constructed with definite relations to the activity of the -beings which compose the world, the automaton would receive -impressions from it, and, in faithful correspondence thereto, it -would execute a corresponding series of motions.</p> - -<p>“Indifferent towards any determination, it would yield equally -to all, if the first impressions did not, so to speak, wind up the -machine and decide its operations and its course.</p> - -<p>“The series of movements which this automaton could execute -would distinguish it from all others formed on the same model, -but which, not having been placed in similar circumstances, would -not have experienced the same impressions, or would not have -experienced them in the same order.</p> - -<p>“The senses of the automaton, set in motion by the objects -presented to it, would communicate their motion to the brain, -the chief motor apparatus of the machine. This would put in -action the muscles of the hands and feet, in virtue of their secret -connection with the senses. These muscles, alternately contracted -and dilated, would approximate or remove the automaton from -the objects, in the relation which they would bear to the conservation -or the destruction of the machine.</p> - -<p>“The motions of perception and sensation which the objects -would have impressed on the brain, would be preserved in it by -the energy of its mechanism. They would become more vivid -according to the actual condition of the automaton, considered in -itself and relatively to the objects.</p> - -<p>“Words being only the motions impressed on the organ of -hearing and that of voice, the diversity of these movements, -their combination, the order in which they would succeed one -another, would represent judgments, reasoning, and all the operations -of the mind.</p> - -<p>“A close correspondence between the organs of the senses, -either by the opening into one another of their nervous ramifications, -or by interposed springs (<em>ressorts</em>), would establish such a -connection in their working, that, on the occasion of the movements -impressed on one of these organs, other movements would -be excited, or would become more vivid in some of the other -senses.</p> - -<p>“Give the automaton a soul which contemplates its movements, -which believes itself to be the author of them, which has different -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_244" id="Page_244">244</a></span>volitions on the occasion of the different movements, and you -will on this hypothesis construct a man.</p> - -<p>“But would this man be free? Can the feeling of our liberty, -this feeling which is so clear and so distinct and so vivid as to -persuade us that we are the authors of our actions, be conciliated -with this hypothesis? If it removes the difficulty which attends -the conception of the action of the soul on the body, on the other -hand it leaves untouched that which meets us in endeavouring -to conceive the action of the body on the soul.”</p></div> - -<p>But if Leibnitz, Jonathan Edwards, and Hartley—men -who rank among the giants of the world of -thought—could see no antagonism between the doctrine -under discussion and Christian orthodoxy, is it -not just possible that smaller folk may be wrong in -making such a coil about “logical consequences”? -And, seeing how large a share of this clamour is raised -by the clergy of one denomination or another, may -I say, in conclusion, that it really would be well if -ecclesiastical persons would reflect that ordination, -whatever deep-seated graces it may confer, has never -been observed to be followed by any visible increase -in the learning or the logic of its subject. Making a -man a Bishop, or entrusting him with the office of -ministering to even the largest of Presbyterian -congregations, or setting him up to lecture to a -Church congress, really does not in the smallest -degree augment such title to respect as his opinions -may intrinsically possess. And, when such a man -presumes on an authority which was conferred upon -him for other purposes, to sit in judgment upon -matters his incompetence to deal with which is -patent, it is permissible to ignore his sacerdotal pre<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_245" id="Page_245">245</a></span>tensions, -and to tell him, as one would tell a mere -common, unconsecrated, layman: that it is not necessary -for any man to occupy himself with problems of -this kind unless he so choose; life is filled full -enough by the performance of its ordinary and -obvious duties. But that, if a man elect to become -a judge of these grave questions; still more, if he -assume the responsibility of attaching praise or blame -to his fellow-men for the conclusions at which they -arrive touching them, he will commit a sin more -grievous than most breaches of the Decalogue, unless -he avoid a lazy reliance upon the information that is -gathered by prejudice and filtered through passion, -unless he go back to the prime sources of knowledge—the -facts of nature, and the thoughts of those wise -men who for generations past have been her best -interpreters.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_246" id="Page_246">246</a></span></p> - -<h2>X.<br /><br /> - -ON SENSATION AND THE UNITY OF -STRUCTURE OF SENSIFEROUS ORGANS.</h2> - -<p><span class="smcap">The</span> maxim that metaphysical inquiries are barren of -result, and that the serious occupation of the mind -with them is a mere waste of time and labour, finds -much favour in the eyes of the many persons who -pride themselves on the possession of sound common -sense; and we sometimes hear it enunciated by -weighty authorities, as if its natural consequence, -the suppression of such studies, had the force of a -moral obligation.</p> - -<p>In this case, however, as in some others, those -who lay down the law seem to forget that a wise -legislator will consider, not merely whether his proposed -enactment is desirable, but whether obedience -to it is possible. For, if the latter question is -answered negatively, the former is surely hardly -worth debate.</p> - -<p>Here, in fact, lies the pith of the reply to those -who would make metaphysics contraband of intellect. -Whether it is desirable to place a prohibitory duty -upon philosophical speculations or not, it is utterly -impossible to prevent the importation of them into<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_247" id="Page_247">247</a></span> -the mind. And it is not a little curious to observe -that those who most loudly profess to abstain from -such commodities are, all the while, unconscious consumers, -on a great scale, of one or other of their multitudinous -disguises or adulterations. With mouths -full of the particular kind of heavily buttered toast -which they affect, they inveigh against the eating of -plain bread. In truth, the attempt to nourish the -human intellect upon a diet which contains no metaphysics -is about as hopeful as that of certain Eastern -sages to nourish their bodies without destroying life. -Everybody has heard the story of the pitiless microscopist, -who ruined the peace of mind of one of these -mild enthusiasts by showing him the animals moving -in a drop of the water with which, in the innocency -of his heart, he slaked his thirst; and the unsuspecting -devotee of plain common sense may look for as -unexpected a shock when the magnifier of severe -logic reveals the germs, if not the full-grown shapes, -of lively metaphysical postulates rampant amidst his -most positive and matter-of-fact notions.</p> - -<p>By way of escape from the metaphysical Will-o’-the-wisps -generated in the marshes of literature and -theology, the serious student is sometimes bidden to -betake himself to the solid ground of physical science. -But the fish of immortal memory, who threw himself -out of the frying-pan into the fire, was not more ill -advised than the man who seeks sanctuary from philosophical -persecution within the walls of the observatory -or of the laboratory. It is said that “metaphysics” -owe their name to the fact that, in Aristotle’s works,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_248" id="Page_248">248</a></span> -questions of pure philosophy are dealt with immediately -after those of physics. If so, the accident -is happily symbolical of the essential relations of -things; for metaphysical speculation follows as closely -upon physical theory as black care upon the horseman.</p> - -<p>One need but mention such fundamental, and -indeed indispensable, conceptions of the natural philosopher -as those of atoms and forces: or that of attraction -considered as action at a distance; or that of -potential energy; or the antinomies of a vacuum and -a plenum; to call to mind the metaphysical background -of physics and chemistry; while, in the biological -sciences, the case is still worse. What is an -individual among the lower plants and animals? Are -genera and species realities or abstractions? Is there -such a thing as Vital Force? or does the name denote -a mere relic of metaphysical fetichism? Is the doctrine -of final causes legitimate or illegitimate? These -are a few of the metaphysical topics which are suggested -by the most elementary study of biological -facts. But, more than this, it may be truly said that -the roots of every system of philosophy lie deep -among the facts of physiology. No one can doubt -that the organs and the functions of sensation are as -much a part of the province of the physiologist, as are -the organs and functions of motion, or those of digestion; -and yet it is impossible to gain an acquaintance -with even the rudiments of the physiology of sensation -without being led straight to one of the most fundamental -of all metaphysical problems. In fact, the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_249" id="Page_249">249</a></span> -sensory operations have been, from time immemorial, -the battle-ground of philosophers.</p> - -<p>I have more than once taken occasion to point -out that we are indebted to Descartes, who happened -to be a physiologist as well as a philosopher, for the -first distinct enunciation of the essential elements of -the true theory of sensation. In later times, it is not -to the works of the philosophers, if Hartley and James -Mill are excepted, but to those of the physiologists, -that we must turn for an adequate account of the -sensory process. Haller’s luminous, though summary, -account of sensation in his admirable “Primæ Lineæ,” -the first edition of which was printed in 1747, offers -a striking contrast to the prolixity and confusion of -thought which pervade Reid’s “Inquiry,” of seventeen -years’ later date.<a name="FNanchor_56_56" id="FNanchor_56_56"></a><a href="#Footnote_56_56" class="fnanchor">56</a> Even Sir William Hamilton, -learned historian and acute critic as he was, not only -failed to apprehend the philosophical bearing of long-established -physiological truths; but, when he affirmed -that there is no reason to deny that the mind feels -at the finger points, and none to assert that the -brain is the sole organ of thought,<a name="FNanchor_57_57" id="FNanchor_57_57"></a><a href="#Footnote_57_57" class="fnanchor">57</a> he showed that -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_250" id="Page_250">250</a></span>he had not apprehended the significance of the revolution -commenced, two hundred years before his -time, by Descartes, and effectively followed up by -Haller, Hartley, and Bonnet, in the middle of the last -century.</p> - -<p>In truth, the theory of sensation, except in one -point, is, at the present moment, very much where -Hartley, led by a hint of Sir Isaac Newton’s, left it, -when, a hundred and twenty years since, the “Observations -on Man: his Frame, his Duty, and his -Expectations,” was laid before the world. The whole -matter is put in a nutshell in the following passages -of this notable book.</p> - -<div class="blockquot"> - -<p>“External objects impressed upon the senses occasion, first -on the nerves on which they are impressed, and then on the -brain, vibrations of the small and, as we may say, infinitesimal -medullary particles.</p> - -<p>“These vibrations are motions backwards and forwards of -the small particles; of the same kind with the oscillations of -pendulums and the tremblings of the particles of sounding -bodies. They must be conceived to be exceedingly short and -small, so as not to have the least efficacy to disturb or move the -whole bodies of the nerves or brain.”<a name="FNanchor_58_58" id="FNanchor_58_58"></a><a href="#Footnote_58_58" class="fnanchor">58</a></p> - -<p>“The white medullary substance of the brain is also the -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_251" id="Page_251">251</a></span>immediate instrument by which ideas are presented to the -mind; or, in other words, whatever changes are made in this -substance, corresponding changes are made in our ideas; and -<em>vice versa</em>.”<a name="FNanchor_59_59" id="FNanchor_59_59"></a><a href="#Footnote_59_59" class="fnanchor">59</a></p></div> - -<p>Hartley, like Haller, had no conception of the -nature and functions of the grey matter of the brain. -But, if for “white medullary substance,” in the latter -paragraph, we substitute “grey cellular substance,” -Hartley’s propositions embody the most probable conclusions -which are to be drawn from the latest -investigations of physiologists. In order to judge -how completely this is the case, it will be well to -study some simple case of sensation, and, following the -example of Reid and of James Mill, we may begin -with the sense of smell. Suppose that I become -aware of a musky scent, to which the name of -“muskiness” may be given. I call this an odour, -and I class it along with the feelings of light, colours, -sounds, tastes, and the like, among those phenomena -which are known as sensations. To say that I am -aware of this phenomenon, or that I have it, or that -it exists, are simply different modes of affirming the -same facts. If I am asked how I know that it -exists, I can only reply that its existence and my -knowledge of it are one and the same thing; in short, -that my knowledge is immediate or intuitive, and, as -such, is possessed of the highest conceivable degree -of certainty.</p> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_252" id="Page_252">252</a></span></p> -<p>The pure sensation of muskiness is almost sure to -be followed by a mental state which is not a sensation, -but a belief, that there is somewhere close at hand a -something on which the existence of the sensation -depends. It may be a musk-deer, or a musk-rat, or a -musk-plant, or a grain of dry musk, or simply a -scented handkerchief; but former experience leads us -to believe that the sensation is due to the presence of -one or other of these objects, and that it will vanish -if the object is removed. In other words, there -arises a belief in an external cause of the muskiness, -which, in common language, is termed an odorous -body.</p> - -<p>But the manner in which this belief is usually put -into words is strangely misleading. If we are dealing -with a musk-plant, for example, we do not confine -ourselves to a simple statement of that which we believe, -and say that the musk-plant is the cause of the -sensation called muskiness; but we say that the plant -has a musky smell, and we speak of the odour as a -quality, or property, inherent in the plant. And the -inevitable reaction of words upon thought has in this -case become so complete, and has penetrated so deeply, -that when an accurate statement of the case—namely, -that muskiness, inasmuch as the term denotes nothing -but a sensation, is a mental state, and has no existence -except as a mental phenomenon—is first brought -under the notice of common-sense folks, it is usually -regarded by them as what they are pleased to call a -mere metaphysical paradox and a patent example of -useless subtlety. Yet the slightest reflection must<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_253" id="Page_253">253</a></span> -suffice to convince any one possessed of sound reasoning -faculties, that it is as absurd to suppose that -muskiness is a quality inherent in one plant, as it -would be to imagine that pain is a quality inherent -in another, because we feel pain when a thorn pricks -the finger.</p> - -<p>Even the common-sense philosopher, <em lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">par excellence</em>, -says of smell: “It appears to be a simple and -original affection or feeling of the mind, altogether -inexplicable and unaccountable. It is indeed impossible -that it can be in any body: it is a sensation, and -a sensation can only be in a sentient thing.”<a name="FNanchor_60_60" id="FNanchor_60_60"></a><a href="#Footnote_60_60" class="fnanchor">60</a></p> - -<p>That which is true of muskiness is true of every -other odour. Lavender-smell, clove-smell, garlic-smell, -are, like “muskiness,” names of states of consciousness, -and have no existence except as such. -But, in ordinary language, we speak of all these -odours as if they were independent entities residing -in lavender, cloves, and garlic; and it is not without -a certain struggle that the false metaphysic of so-called -common sense, thus ingrained in us, is expelled.</p> - -<p>For the present purpose, it is unnecessary to inquire -into the origin of our belief in external bodies, -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_254" id="Page_254">254</a></span>or into that of the notion of causation. Assuming -the existence of an external world, there is no difficulty -in obtaining experimental proof that, as a -general rule, olfactory sensations are caused by -odorous bodies; and we may pass on to the next -step of the inquiry—namely, how the odorous body -produces the effect attributed to it.</p> - -<p>The first point to be noted here is another fact -revealed by experience; that the appearance of the -sensation is governed, not only by the presence of the -odorous substance, but by the condition of a certain -part of our corporeal structure, the nose. If the -nostrils are closed, the presence of the odorous substance -does not give rise to the sensation; while, -when they are open, the sensation is intensified by -the approximation of the odorous substance to them, -and by snuffing up the adjacent air in such a manner -as to draw it into the nose. On the other hand, looking -at an odorous substance, or rubbing it on the -skin, or holding it to the ear, does not awaken the -sensation. Thus, it can be readily established by -experiment that the perviousness of the nasal passages -is, in some way, essential to the sensory function; -in fact, that the organ of that function is lodged -somewhere in the nasal passages. And, since odorous -bodies give rise to their effects at considerable -distances, the suggestion is obvious that something -must pass from them into the sense organ. What -is this “something,” which plays the part of an intermediary -between the odorous body and the sensory -organ?</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_255" id="Page_255">255</a></span></p> - -<p>The oldest speculation about the matter dates -back to Democritus and the Epicurean School, and it -is to be found fully stated in the fourth book of -Lucretius. It comes to this: that the surfaces of -bodies are constantly throwing off excessively attenuated -films of their own substance: and that these -films, reaching the mind, excite the appropriate sensations -in it.</p> - -<p>Aristotle did not admit the existence of any such -material films, but conceived that it was the form of -the substance, and not its matter, which affected sense, -as a seal impresses wax, without losing anything in the -process. While many, if not the majority, of the -Schoolmen took up an intermediate position and -supposed that a something, which was not exactly -either material or immaterial, and which they called -an “intentional species,” effected the needful communication -between the bodily cause of sensation and -the mind.</p> - -<p>But all these notions, whatever may be said for -or against them in general, are fundamentally defective, -by reason of an oversight which was inevitable, -in the state of knowledge at the time in which they -were promulgated. What the older philosophers did -not know, and could not know, before the anatomist and -the physiologist had done their work, is that, between -the external object and that mind in which they supposed -the sensation to inhere, there lies a physical -obstacle. The sense organ is not a mere passage by -which the “tenuia simulacra rerum,” or the “intentional -species” cast off by objects, or the “forms” of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_256" id="Page_256">256</a></span> -sensible things, pass straight to the mind; on the -contrary, it stands as a firm and impervious barrier, -through which no material particle of the world without -can make its way to the world within.</p> - -<p>Let us consider the olfactory sense organ more -nearly. Each of the nostrils leads into a passage -completely separated from the other by a partition, -and these two passages place the nostrils in free communication -with the back of the throat, so that they -freely transmit the air passing to the lungs when the -mouth is shut, as in ordinary breathing. The floor of -each passage is flat, but its roof is a high arch, the crown -of which is seated between the orbital cavities of the -skull, which serve for the lodgment and protection of -the eyes; and it therefore lies behind the apparent -limits of that feature which, in ordinary language, is -called the nose. From the side walls of the upper -and back part of these arched chambers, certain delicate -plates of bone project, and these, as well as a -considerable part of the partition between the two -chambers, are covered by a fine, soft, moist membrane. -It is to this “Schneiderian,” or olfactory, membrane -that odorous bodies must obtain direct access, if they -are to give rise to their appropriate sensations; and it -is upon the relatively large surface, which the olfactory -membrane offers, that we must seek for the seat of the -organ of the olfactory sense. The only essential part -of that organ consists of a multitude of minute rod-like -bodies, set perpendicularly to the surface of the -membrane, and forming a part of the cellular coat, or -epithelium, which covers the olfactory membrane, as<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_257" id="Page_257">257</a></span> -the epidermis covers the skin. In the case of the olfactory -sense, there can be no doubt that the Democritic -hypothesis, at any rate for such odorous substances -as musk, has a good foundation. Infinitesimal particles -of musk fly off from the surface of the odorous -body, and, becoming diffused through the air, are -carried into the nasal passages, and thence into the -olfactory chambers, where they come into contact with -the filamentous extremities of the delicate olfactory -epithelium.</p> - -<p>But this is not all. The “mind” is not, so to -speak, upon the other side of the epithelium. On the -contrary, the inner ends of the olfactory cells are connected -with nerve fibres, and these nerve fibres, passing -into the cavity of the skull, at length end in a -part of the brain, the olfactory sensorium. It is -certain that the integrity of each, and the physical -inter-connection of all these three structures, the -epithelium of the sensory organ, the nerve fibres, -and the sensorium, are essential conditions of ordinary -sensation. That is to say, the air in the olfactory -chambers may be charged with particles of musk; but, -if either the epithelium, or the nerve fibres, or the sensorium -is injured, or if they are physically disconnected -from one another, sensation will not arise. Moreover, -the epithelium may be said to be receptive, the nerve -fibres transmissive, and the sensorium sensifacient. -For, in the act of smelling, the particles of the odorous -substance produce a molecular change (which Hartley -was in all probability right in terming a vibration) in -the epithelium, and this change being transmitted to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_258" id="Page_258">258</a></span> -the nerve fibres, passes along them with a measurable -velocity, and, finally reaching the sensorium, is immediately -followed by the sensation.</p> - -<p>Thus, modern investigation supplies a representative -of the Epicurean simulacra in the volatile -particles of the musk; but it also gives us the stamp -of the particles on the olfactory epithelium, without -any transmission of matter, as the equivalent of the -Aristotelian “form;” while, finally, the modes of -motion of the molecules of the olfactory cells, of the -nerve, and of the cerebral sensorium, which are -Hartley’s vibrations, may stand very well for a double -of the “intentional species” of the Schoolmen. And -this last remark is not intended merely to suggest a -fanciful parallel; for, if the cause of the sensation is, -as analogy suggests, to be sought in the mode of -motion of the object of sense, then it is quite possible -that the particular mode of motion of the object is reproduced -in the sensorium; exactly as the diaphragm -of a telephone reproduces the mode of motion taken up -at its receiving end. In other words, the secondary -“intentional species” may be, as the Schoolmen thought -the primary one was, the last link between matter and -mind.</p> - -<p>None the less, however, does it remain true that -no similarity exists, nor indeed is conceivable, between -the cause of the sensation and the sensation. Attend -as closely to the sensations of muskiness, or any other -odour, as we will, no trace of extension, resistance, or -motion is discernible in them. They have no attribute -in common with those which we ascribe to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_259" id="Page_259">259</a></span> -matter; they are, in the strictest sense of the words, -immaterial entities.</p> - -<p>Thus, the most elementary study of sensation -justifies Descartes’ position, that we know more of -mind than we do of body; that the immaterial world -is a firmer reality than the material. For the sensation -“muskiness” is known immediately. So long as -it persists, it is a part of what we call our thinking -selves, and its existence lies beyond the possibility of -doubt. The knowledge of an objective or material -cause of the sensation, on the other hand, is mediate; -it is a belief as contradistinguished from an intuition; -and it is a belief which, in any given instance of -sensation, may, by possibility, be devoid of foundation. -For odours, like other sensations, may arise from the -occurrence of the appropriate molecular changes in -the nerve or in the sensorium, by the operation of a -cause distinct from the affection of the sense organ by -an odorous body. Such “subjective” sensations are -as real existences as any others, and as distinctly -suggest an external odorous object as their cause; but -the belief thus generated is a delusion. And, if -beliefs are properly termed “testimonies of consciousness,” -then undoubtedly the testimony of consciousness -may be, and often is, untrustworthy.</p> - -<p>Another very important consideration arises out of -the facts as they are now known. That which, in the -absence of a knowledge of the physiology of sensation, -we call the cause of the smell, and term the odorous -object, is only such, mediately, by reason of its emitting -particles which give rise to a mode of motion in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_260" id="Page_260">260</a></span> -the sense organ. The sense organ, again, is only a -mediate cause by reason of its producing a molecular -change in the nerve fibre; while this last change is -also only a mediate cause of sensation, depending, as -it does, upon the change which it excites in the -sensorium.</p> - -<p>The sense organ, the nerve, and the sensorium, -taken together, constitute the sensiferous apparatus. -They make up the thickness of the wall between the -mind, as represented by the sensation “muskiness,” -and the object, as represented by the particle of musk -in contact with the olfactory epithelium.</p> - -<p>It will be observed that the sensiferous wall and -the external world are of the same nature; whatever -it is that constitutes them both is expressible in terms -of matter and motion. Whatever changes take place -in the sensiferous apparatus are continuous with, and -similar to, those which take place in the external -world.<a name="FNanchor_61_61" id="FNanchor_61_61"></a><a href="#Footnote_61_61" class="fnanchor">61</a> But, with the sensorium, matter and motion -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_261" id="Page_261">261</a></span>come to an end; while phenomena of another order, -or immaterial states of consciousness, make their -appearance. How is the relation between the material -and the immaterial phenomena to be conceived? -This is the metaphysical problem of problems, and -the solutions which have been suggested have been -made the corner-stones of systems of philosophy. -Three mutually irreconcilable readings of the riddle -have been offered.</p> - -<p>The first is, that an immaterial substance of mind -exists; and that it is affected by the mode of motion -of the sensorium in such a way as to give rise to the -sensation.</p> - -<p>The second is, that the sensation is a direct effect -of the mode of motion of the sensorium, brought -about without the intervention of any substance of -mind.</p> - -<p>The third is, that the sensation is neither directly -nor indirectly an effect of the mode of motion of the -sensorium, but that it has an independent cause. -Properly speaking, therefore, it is not an effect of -the motion of the sensorium, but a concomitant of it.</p> - -<p>As none of these hypotheses is capable of even -an approximation to demonstration, it is almost needless -to remark that they have been severally held with -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_262" id="Page_262">262</a></span>tenacity and advocated with passion. I do not think -it can be said of any of the three that it is inconceivable, -or that it can be assumed on <em>à priori</em> grounds -to be impossible.</p> - -<p>Consider the first, for example; an immaterial -substance is perfectly conceivable. In fact, it is -obvious that, if we possessed no sensations but those -of smell and hearing, we should be unable to conceive -a material substance. We might have a conception -of time, but could have none of extension, or of resistance, -or of motion. And without the three latter -conceptions no idea of matter could be formed. Our -whole knowledge would be limited to that of a shifting -succession of immaterial phenomena. But, if an -immaterial substance may exist, it may have any -conceivable properties; and sensation may be one of -them. All these propositions may be affirmed with -complete dialectic safety, inasmuch as they cannot -possibly be disproved; but neither can a particle of -demonstrative evidence be offered in favour of the -existence of an immaterial substance.</p> - -<p>As regards the second hypothesis, it certainly is -not inconceivable, and therefore it may be true, that -sensation is the direct effect of certain kinds of bodily -motion. It is just as easy to suppose this as to suppose, -on the former hypothesis, that bodily motion -affects an immaterial substance. But neither is it -susceptible of proof.</p> - -<p>And, as to the third hypothesis, since the logic of -induction is in no case competent to prove that -events apparently standing in the relation of cause<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_263" id="Page_263">263</a></span> -and effect may not both be effects of a common cause—that -also is as safe from refutation, if as incapable -of demonstration, as the other two.</p> - -<p>In my own opinion, neither of these speculations -can be regarded seriously as anything but a more or -less convenient working hypothesis. But, if I must -choose among them, I take the “law of parsimony” -for my guide, and select the simplest—namely, that -the sensation is the direct effect of the mode of -motion of the sensorium. It may justly be said that -this is not the slightest explanation of sensation; but -then am I really any the wiser, if I say that a sensation -is an activity (of which I know nothing) of a -substance of mind (of which also I know nothing)? -Or, if I say that the Deity causes the sensation to -arise in my mind immediately after He has caused -the particles of the sensorium to move in a certain -way, is anything gained? In truth, a sensation, as -we have already seen, is an intuition—a part of -immediate knowledge. As such, it is an ultimate fact -and inexplicable; and all that we can hope to find -out about it, and that indeed is worth finding out, is -its relation to other natural facts. That relation -appears to me to be sufficiently expressed, for all -practical purposes, by saying that sensation is the -invariable consequent of certain changes in the sensorium—or, -in other words, that, so far as we know, -the change in the sensorium is the cause of the -sensation.</p> - -<p>I permit myself to imagine that the untutored, if -noble, savage of “common sense” who has been misled<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_264" id="Page_264">264</a></span> -into reading thus far by the hope of getting positive -solid information about sensation, giving way to not -unnatural irritation, may here interpellate: “The -upshot of all this long disquisition is that we are -profoundly ignorant. We knew that to begin with, -and you have merely furnished another example of -the emptiness and uselessness of metaphysics.” But -I venture to reply, Pardon me, you were ignorant, but -you did not know it. On the contrary, you thought -you knew a great deal, and were quite satisfied with -the particularly absurd metaphysical notions which -you were pleased to call the teachings of common -sense. You thought that your sensations were properties -of external things, and had an existence -outside of yourself. You thought that you knew -more about material than you do about immaterial -existences. And if, as a wise man has assured us, -the knowledge of what we don’t know is the next -best thing to the knowledge of what we do know, -this brief excursion into the province of philosophy -has been highly profitable.</p> - -<p>Of all the dangerous mental habits, that which -schoolboys call “cocksureness” is probably the most -perilous; and the inestimable value of metaphysical -discipline is that it furnishes an effectual counterpoise -to this evil proclivity. Whoso has mastered the -elements of philosophy knows that the attribute of -unquestionable certainty appertains only to the existence -of a state of consciousness so long as it exists; -all other beliefs are mere probabilities of a higher -or lower order. Sound metaphysic is an amulet<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_265" id="Page_265">265</a></span> -which renders its possessor proof alike against the -poison of superstition and the counter-poison of -nihilism; by showing that the affirmations of the -former and the denials of the latter alike deal with -matters about which, for lack of evidence, nothing -can be either affirmed or denied.</p> - -<p class="tb">I have dwelt at length upon the nature and origin -of our sensations of smell, on account of the comparative -freedom of the olfactory sense from the complications -which are met with in most of the other -senses.</p> - -<p>Sensations of taste, however, are generated in -almost as simple a fashion as those of smell. In this -case, the sense organ is the epithelium which covers -the tongue and the palate: and which sometimes, -becoming modified, gives rise to peculiar organs -termed “gustatory bulbs,” in which the epithelial cells -elongate and assume a somewhat rod-like form. Nerve -fibres connect the sensory organ with the sensorium, -and tastes or flavours are states of consciousness -caused by the change of molecular state of the latter. -In the case of the sense of touch there is often no -sense organ distinct from the general epidermis. But -many fishes and amphibia exhibit local modifications -of the epidermic cells which are sometimes extraordinarily -like the gustatory bulbs; more commonly, -both in lower and higher animals, the effect of the -contact of external bodies is intensified by the development -of hair-like filaments, or of true hairs, the bases -of which are in immediate relation with the ends of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_266" id="Page_266">266</a></span> -the sensory nerves. Every one must have noticed -the extreme delicacy of the sensations produced by -the contact of bodies with the ends of the hairs of the -head; and the “whiskers” of cats owe their functional -importance to the abundant supply of nerves to the -follicles in which their bases are lodged. What part, -if any, the so-called “tactile corpuscles,” “end bulbs,” -and “Pacinian bodies,” play in the mechanism of touch -is unknown. If they are sense organs, they are -exceptional in character, in so far as they do not -appear to be modifications of the epidermis. Nothing -is known respecting the organs of those sensations of -resistance which are grouped under the head of the -muscular sense; nor of the sensations of warmth and -cold; nor of that very singular sensation which we -call tickling.</p> - -<p>In the case of heat and cold, the organism not -only becomes affected by external bodies, far more -remote than those which affect the sense of smell; -but the Democritic hypothesis is obviously no longer -permissible. When the direct rays of the sun fall -upon the skin, the sensation of heat is certainly not -caused by “attenuated films” thrown off from that -luminary, but is due to a mode of motion which is transmitted -to us. In Aristotelian phrase, it is the form -without the matter of the sun which stamps the sense -organ; and this, translated into modern language, -means nearly the same thing as Hartley’s vibrations. -Thus we are prepared for what happens in the case of -the auditory and the visual senses. For neither the -ear, nor the eye, receives anything but the impulses or<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_267" id="Page_267">267</a></span> -vibrations originated by sonorous or luminous bodies. -Nevertheless, the receptive apparatus still consists of -nothing but specially modified epithelial cells. In the -labyrinth of the ear of the higher animals, the free -ends of these cells terminate in excessively delicate -hair-like filaments; while, in the lower forms of -auditory organ, its free surface is beset with delicate -hairs like those of the surface of the body, and the -transmissive nerves are connected with the bases of -these hairs. Thus there is an insensible gradation in -the forms of the receptive apparatus, from the organ -of touch, on the one hand, to those of taste and smell; -and, on the other hand, to that of hearing. Even in -the case of the most refined of all the sense organs, -that of vision, the receptive apparatus departs but little -from the general type. The only essential constituent -of the visual sense organ is the retina, which forms so -small a part of the eyes of the higher animals; and -the simplest eyes are nothing but portions of the -integument, in which the cells of the epidermis have -become converted into glassy rod-like retinal corpuscles. -The outer ends of these are turned towards the light; -their sides are more or less extensively coated with -a dark pigment, and their inner ends are connected -with the transmissive nerve fibres. The light, impinging -on these visual rods, produces a change in them -which is communicated to the nerve fibres, and, being -transmitted to the sensorium, gives rise to the sensation—if -indeed all animals which possess eyes are -endowed with what we understand as sensation.</p> - -<p>In the higher animals, a complicated apparatus of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_268" id="Page_268">268</a></span> -lenses, arranged on the principle of a camera obscura, -serves at once to concentrate and to individualise the -pencils of light proceeding from external bodies. But -the essential part of the organ of vision is still a layer -of cells, which have the form of rods with truncated or -conical ends. By what seems a strange anomaly, -however, the glassy ends of these are turned not -towards, but away from, the light; and the latter has -to traverse the layer of nervous tissues with which -their outer ends are connected, before it can affect -them. Moreover, the rods and cones of the vertebrate -retina are so deeply seated, and in many respects so -peculiar in character, that it appears impossible, at -first sight, that they can have anything to do with -that epidermis of which gustatory and tactile, and at -any rate the lower forms of auditory and visual, -organs are obvious modifications.</p> - -<p>Whatever be the apparent diversities among the -sensiferous apparatuses, however, they share certain -common characters. Each consists of a receptive, a -transmissive, and a sensificatory portion. The essential -part of the first is an epithelium, of the second, -nerve fibres, of the third, a part of the brain; the sensation -is always the consequence of the mode of motion -excited in the receptive, and sent along the transmissive, -to the sensificatory part of the sensiferous -apparatus. And, in all the senses, there is no likeness -whatever between the object of sense, which is -matter in motion, and the sensation, which is an -immaterial phenomenon.</p> - -<p>On the hypothesis which appears to me to be the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_269" id="Page_269">269</a></span> -most convenient, sensation is a product of the sensiferous -apparatus caused by certain modes of motion -which are set up in it by impulses from without. -The sensiferous apparatuses are, as it were, factories, -all of which at the one end receive raw materials -of a similar kind—namely, modes of motion—while, -at the other, each turns out a special product, the -feeling which constitutes the kind of sensation characteristic -of it.</p> - -<p>Or, to make use of a closer comparison, each -sensiferous apparatus is comparable to a musical-box -wound up; with as many tunes as there are separate -sensations. The object of a simple sensation is the -agent which presses down the stop of one of these -tunes, and the more feeble the agent, the more delicate -must be the mobility of the stop.<a name="FNanchor_62_62" id="FNanchor_62_62"></a><a href="#Footnote_62_62" class="fnanchor">62</a></p> - -<p>But, if this be true, if the recipient part of the -sensiferous apparatus is, in all cases, merely a mechanism -affected by coarser or finer kinds of material -motion, we might expect to find that all sense organs -are fundamentally alike, and result from the modification -of the same morphological elements. And this is -exactly what does result from all recent histological -and embryological investigations.</p> - -<p>It has been seen that the receptive part of the -olfactory apparatus is a slightly modified epithelium, -which lines an olfactory chamber deeply seated between -the orbits in adult human beings. But, if we trace -back the nasal chambers to their origin in the embryo, -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_270" id="Page_270">270</a></span>we find, that, to begin with, they are mere depressions -of the skin of the fore part of the head, lined by a -continuation of the general epidermis. These depressions -become pits, and the pits, by the growth of the -adjacent parts, gradually acquire the position which -they finally occupy. The olfactory organ, therefore, -is a specially modified part of the general integument.</p> - -<p>The human ear would seem to present greater -difficulties. For the essential part of the sense organ, -in this case, is the membranous labyrinth, a bag of -complicated form, which lies buried in the depths of -the floor of the skull, and is surrounded by dense and -solid bone. Here, however, recourse to the study of -development readily unravels the mystery. Shortly -after the time when the olfactory organ appears, as a -depression of the skin on the side of the fore part of -the head, the auditory organ appears as a similar depression -on the side of its back part. The depression, -rapidly deepening, becomes a small pouch; and then, -the communication with the exterior becoming shut -off, the pouch is converted into a closed bag, the -epithelial lining of which is a part of the general -epidermis segregated from the rest. The adjacent -tissues, changing first into cartilage and then into -bone, enclose the auditory sac in a strong case, in -which it undergoes its further metamorphoses; while -the drum, the ear bones, and the external ear, are -superadded by no less extraordinary modifications of -the adjacent parts. Still more marvellous is the -history of the development of the organ of vision. -In the place of the eye, as in that of the nose and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_271" id="Page_271">271</a></span> -that of the ear, the young embryo presents a depression -of the general integument; but, in man and the -higher animals, this does not give rise to the proper -sensory organ, but only to part of the accessory -structures concerned in vision. In fact, this depression, -deepening and becoming converted into a shut -sac, produces only the cornea, the aqueous humour, -and the crystalline lens of the perfect eye.</p> - -<p>The retina is added to this by the outgrowth of -the wall of a portion of the brain into a sort of bag, or -sac, with a narrow neck, the convex bottom of which -is turned outwards, or towards the crystalline lens. -As the development of the eye proceeds, the convex -bottom of the bag becomes pushed in, so that it -gradually obliterates the cavity of the sac, the previously -convex wall of which becomes deeply concave. -The sac of the brain is now like a double nightcap -ready for the head, but the place which the head -would occupy is taken by the vitreous humour, while -the layer of nightcap next it becomes the retina. The -cells of this layer which lie farthest from the vitreous -humour, or, in other words, bound the original cavity -of the sac, are metamorphosed into the rods and cones. -Suppose now that the sac of the brain could be brought -back to its original form; then the rods and cones -would form part of the lining of a side pouch of the -brain. But one of the most wonderful revelations of -embryology is the proof of the fact that the brain -itself is, at its first beginning, merely an infolding of -the epidermic layer of the general integument. Hence -it follows that the rods and cones of the vertebrate<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_272" id="Page_272">272</a></span> -eye are modified epidermic cells, as much as the -crystalline cones of the insect or crustacean eye are; -and that the inversion of the position of the former in -relation to light arises simply from the roundabout -way in which the vertebrate retina is developed.</p> - -<p>Thus all the higher sense organs start from one -foundation, and the receptive epithelium of the eye, -or of the ear, is as much modified epidermis as is that -of the nose. The structural unity of the sense organs -is the morphological parallel to their identity of -physiological function, which, as we have seen, is to -be impressed by certain modes of motion; and they -are fine or coarse, in proportion to the delicacy or the -strength of the impulses by which they are to be -affected.</p> - -<p class="tb">In ultimate analysis, then, it appears that a sensation -is the equivalent in terms of consciousness for a -mode of motion of the matter of the sensorium. But, -if inquiry is pushed a stage farther, and the question -is asked, What then do we know about matter and -motion? there is but one reply possible. All that -we know about motion is that it is a name for certain -changes in the relations of our visual, tactile, and -muscular sensations; and all that we know about -matter is that it is the hypothetical substance of -physical phenomena—the assumption of the existence -of which is as pure a piece of metaphysical speculation -as is that of the existence of the substance of mind.</p> - -<p>Our sensations, our pleasures, our pains, and the -relations of these, make up the sum total of the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_273" id="Page_273">273</a></span> -elements of positive, unquestionable knowledge. We -call a large section of these sensations and their -relations matter and motion; the rest we term mind -and thinking; and experience shows that there is a -certain constant order of succession between some of -the former and some of the latter.</p> - -<p>This is all that just metaphysical criticism leaves -of the idols set up by the spurious metaphysics of -vulgar common sense. It is consistent either with -pure Materialism, or with pure Idealism, but it is -neither. For the Idealist, not content with declaring -the truth that our knowledge is limited to facts of -consciousness, affirms the wholly unprovable proposition -that nothing exists beyond these and the substance -of mind. And, on the other hand, the Materialist, -holding by the truth that, for anything that appears -to the contrary, material phenomena are the causes of -mental phenomena, asserts his unprovable dogma, that -material phenomena and the substance of matter are -the sole primary existences.</p> - -<p>Strike out the propositions about which neither -controversialist does or can know anything, and there -is nothing left for them to quarrel about. Make a -desert of the Unknowable, and the divine Astræa of -philosophic peace will commence her blessed reign.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_274" id="Page_274">274</a></span></p> - -<h2>XI.<br /><br /> - -EVOLUTION IN BIOLOGY.</h2> - -<p><span class="smcap">In</span> the former half of the eighteenth century, the term -“evolution” was introduced into biological writings, in -order to denote the mode in which some of the most -eminent physiologists of that time conceived that -the generation of living things took place; in opposition -to the hypothesis advocated, in the preceding -century, by Harvey in that remarkable work<a name="FNanchor_63_63" id="FNanchor_63_63"></a><a href="#Footnote_63_63" class="fnanchor">63</a> which -would give him a claim to rank among the founders -of biological science, even had he not been the discoverer -of the circulation of the blood.</p> - -<p>One of Harvey’s prime objects is to defend and -establish, on the basis of direct observation, the -opinion already held by Aristotle; that, in the higher -animals at any rate, the formation of the new organism -by the process of generation takes place, not suddenly, -by simultaneous accretion of rudiments of all, or of the -most important, of the organs of the adult; nor by -sudden metamorphosis of a formative substance into a -miniature of the whole, which subsequently grows; -but by <i>epigenesis</i>, or successive differentiation of a -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_275" id="Page_275">275</a></span>relatively homogeneous rudiment into the parts and -structures which are characteristic of the adult.</p> - -<div class="blockquot"> - -<p lang="la" xml:lang="la">“Et primò, quidem, quoniam per <i>epigenesin</i> sive partium -superexorientium additamentum pullum fabricari certum est: -quænam pars ante alias omnes exstruatur, et quid de illa ejusque -generandi modo observandum veniat, dispiciemus. Ratum sane -est et in ovo manifestè apparet quod <i>Aristoteles</i> de perfectorum -animalium generatione enuntiat: nimirum, non omnes partes -simul fieri, sed ordine aliam post aliam; primùmque existere -particulam genitalem, cujus virtute postea (tanquam ex principio -quodam) reliquæ omnes partes prosiliant. Qualem in plantarum -seminibus (fabis, putà, aut glandibus) gemmam sive apicem protuberantem -cernimus, totius futuræ arboris principium. <i>Estque -hæc particula velut filius emancipatus seorsumque collocatus, et principium -per se vivens; unde postea membrorum ordo describitur; et -quæcunque ad absolvendum animal pertinent, disponuntur.</i><a name="FNanchor_64_64" id="FNanchor_64_64"></a><a href="#Footnote_64_64" class="fnanchor">64</a> Quoniam -enim <i>nulla pars se ipsam generat; sed postquam generata est, se ipsam -jam auget; ideo eam primùm oriri necesse est, quæ principium augendi -contineat (sive enim planta, sive animal est, æque omnibus inest quod -vim habeat vegetandi, sive nutriendi)</i>,<a name="FNanchor_65_65" id="FNanchor_65_65"></a><a href="#Footnote_65_65" class="fnanchor">65</a> simulque reliquas omnes -partes suo quamque ordine distinguat et formet; proindeque in -eadem primogenita particula anima primario inest, sensus, motusque, -et totius vitæ auctor et principium.” (Exercitatio 51.)</p></div> - -<p>Harvey proceeds to contrast this view with that of -the “Medici,” or followers of Hippocrates and Galen, -who, “badly philosophising,” imagined that the brain, -the heart, and the liver were simultaneously first -generated in the form of vesicles; and, at the same -time, while expressing his agreement with Aristotle in -the principle of epigenesis, he maintains that it is the -blood which is the primal generative part, and not, as -Aristotle thought, the heart.</p> - -<p>In the latter part of the seventeenth century, the -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_276" id="Page_276">276</a></span>doctrine of epigenesis, thus advocated by Harvey, was -controverted, on the ground of direct observation, by -Malpighi, who affirmed that the body of the chick is -to be seen in the egg, before the <i>punctum sanguineum</i> -makes its appearance. But, from this perfectly correct -observation a conclusion which is by no means -warranted was drawn; namely, that the chick, as a -whole, really exists in the egg antecedently to incubation; -and that what happens in the course of the latter -process is no addition of new parts, “alias post alias -natas,” as Harvey puts it, but a simple expansion, or -unfolding, of the organs which already exist, though -they are too small and inconspicuous to be discovered. -The weight of Malpighi’s observations therefore fell -into the scale of that doctrine which Harvey terms -<em>metamorphosis</em>, in contradistinction to epigenesis.</p> - -<p>The views of Malpighi were warmly welcomed, on -philosophical grounds, by Leibnitz,<a name="FNanchor_66_66" id="FNanchor_66_66"></a><a href="#Footnote_66_66" class="fnanchor">66</a> who found in them -a support to his hypothesis of monads, and by <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_277" id="Page_277">277</a></span>Malebranche;<a name="FNanchor_67_67" id="FNanchor_67_67"></a><a href="#Footnote_67_67" class="fnanchor">67</a> -while, in the middle of the eighteenth -century, not only speculative considerations, but a -great number of new and interesting observations on -the phenomena of generation, led the ingenious -Bonnet, and Haller,<a name="FNanchor_68_68" id="FNanchor_68_68"></a><a href="#Footnote_68_68" class="fnanchor">68</a> the first physiologist of the age, -to adopt, advocate, and extend them.</p> - -<p>Bonnet affirms that, before fecundation, the hen’s -egg contains an excessively minute but complete chick; -and that fecundation and incubation simply cause this -germ to absorb nutritious matters, which are deposited -in the interstices of the elementary structures of which -the miniature chick, or germ, is made up. The consequence -of this intussusceptive growth is the “development” -or “evolution” of the germ into the -visible bird. Thus an organised individual (<em lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">tout -organisé</em>) “is a composite body consisting of the -original, or <em>elementary</em>, parts and of the matters -which have been associated with them by the aid of -nutrition;” so that, if these matters could be extracted -from the individual (<em lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">tout</em>), it would, so to speak, -become concentrated in a point, and would thus be -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_278" id="Page_278">278</a></span>restored to its primitive condition of a <em>germ</em>; “just as -by extracting from a bone the calcareous substance -which is the source of its hardness, it is reduced to its -primitive state of gristle or membrane.”<a name="FNanchor_69_69" id="FNanchor_69_69"></a><a href="#Footnote_69_69" class="fnanchor">69</a></p> - -<p>“Evolution” and “development” are, for Bonnet, -synonymous terms; and since by “evolution” he -means simply the expansion of that which was invisible -into visibility, he was naturally led to the conclusion, -at which Leibnitz had arrived by a different line of -reasoning, that no such thing as generation, in the -proper sense of the word, exists in nature. The -growth of an organic being is simply a process of -enlargement, as a particle of dry gelatine may be -swelled up by the intussusception of water; its death -is a shrinkage, such as the swelled jelly might undergo -on desiccation. Nothing really new is produced in -the living world, but the germs which develop have -existed since the beginning of things; and nothing -really dies, but, when what we call death takes place, -the living thing shrinks back into its germ state.<a name="FNanchor_70_70" id="FNanchor_70_70"></a><a href="#Footnote_70_70" class="fnanchor">70</a></p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_279" id="Page_279">279</a></span></p> - -<p>The two parts of Bonnet’s hypothesis, namely, the -doctrine that all living things proceed from pre-existing -germs, and that these contain, one inclosed within -the other, the germs of all future living things, which -is the hypothesis of “<em lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">emboîtement</em>;” and the doctrine -that every germ contains in miniature all the organs -of the adult, which is the hypothesis of evolution or -development, in the primary senses of these words, -must be carefully distinguished. In fact, while holding -firmly by the former, Bonnet more or less modified -the latter in his later writings, and, at length, he -admits that a “germ” need not be an actual miniature -of the organism; but that it may be merely an -“original preformation” capable of producing the -latter.<a name="FNanchor_71_71" id="FNanchor_71_71"></a><a href="#Footnote_71_71" class="fnanchor">71</a></p> - -<p>But, thus defined, the germ is neither more nor -less than the “particula genitalis” of Aristotle, or the -“primordium vegetale” or “ovum” of Harvey; and -the “evolution” of such a germ would not be distinguishable -from “epigenesis.”</p> - -<p>Supported by the great authority of Haller, the doc<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_280" id="Page_280">280</a></span>trine -of evolution, or development, prevailed throughout -the whole of the eighteenth century, and Cuvier -appears to have substantially adopted Bonnet’s later -views, though probably he would not have gone all -lengths in the direction of “emboîtement.” In a -well-known note to Laurillards’ “Éloge,” prefixed to -the last edition of the “Ossemens fossiles,” the “radical -de l’être” is much the same thing as Aristotle’s -“particula genitalis” and Harvey’s “ovum.”<a name="FNanchor_72_72" id="FNanchor_72_72"></a><a href="#Footnote_72_72" class="fnanchor">72</a></p> - -<p>Bonnet’s eminent contemporary, Buffon, held -nearly the same views with respect to the nature of -the germ, and expresses them even more confidently.<a name="FNanchor_73_73" id="FNanchor_73_73"></a><a href="#Footnote_73_73" class="fnanchor">73</a></p> - -<div class="blockquot"> - -<p lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">“Ceux qui ont cru que le cœur étoit le premier formé, se -sont trompés; ceux qui disent que c’est le sang se trompent -aussi: tout est formé en même temps. Si l’on ne consulte que -l’observation, le poulet se voit dans l’œuf avant qui’il ait été -couvé.”</p> - -<p lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">“J’ai ouvert une grande quantité d’œufs à differens temps -avant et après l’incubation, et je me suis convaincu par mes yeux -que le poulet existe en entier dans le milieu de la cicatricule au -moment qu’il sort du corps de la poule.”<a name="FNanchor_74_74" id="FNanchor_74_74"></a><a href="#Footnote_74_74" class="fnanchor">74</a></p></div> - -<p>The “moule intérieur” of Buffon is the aggregate -of elementary parts which constitute the individual, -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_281" id="Page_281">281</a></span>and is thus the equivalent of Bonnet’s germ,<a name="FNanchor_75_75" id="FNanchor_75_75"></a><a href="#Footnote_75_75" class="fnanchor">75</a> as -defined in the passage cited above. But Buffon -further imagined that innumerable “molecules organiques” -are dispersed throughout the world, and that -alimentation consists in the appropriation by the -parts of an organism of those molecules which are -analogous to them. Growth, therefore, was, on this -hypothesis, a process partly of simple evolution, and -partly of what has been termed “syngenesis.” Buffon’s -opinion is, in fact, a sort of combination of views, -essentially similar to those of Bonnet, with others, -somewhat similar to those of the “Medici” whom -Harvey condemns. The “molecules organiques” are -physical equivalents of Leibnitz’s “monads.”</p> - -<p>It is a striking example of the difficulty of getting -people to use their own powers of investigation -accurately, that this form of the doctrine of evolution -should have held its ground so long; for it was -thoroughly and completely exploded, not long after -its enunciation, by Caspar Friederich Wolff, who in -his “Theoria Generationis,” published in 1759, placed -the opposite theory of epigenesis upon the secure -foundation of fact, from which it has never been -displaced. But Wolff had no immediate successors. -The school of Cuvier was lamentably deficient in -embryologists; and it was only in the course of the -first thirty years of the present century, that Prévost -and Dumas in France, and, later on, Döllinger, -Pander, Von Bär, Rathke, and Remak in Germany, -founded modern embryology; while, at the same time, -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_282" id="Page_282">282</a></span>they proved the utter incompatibility of the hypothesis -of evolution, as formulated by Bonnet and Haller, with -easily demonstrable facts.</p> - -<p>Nevertheless, though the conceptions originally -denoted by “evolution” and “development” were -shown to be untenable, the words retained their -application to the process by which the embryos of -living beings gradually make their appearance; and -the terms “Development,” “Entwickelung,” and -“Evolutio,” are now indiscriminately used for the -series of genetic changes exhibited by living beings, -by writers who would emphatically deny that “Development” -or “Entwickelung” or “Evolutio,” in -the sense in which these words were usually employed -by Bonnet or by Haller, ever occurs.</p> - -<p>Evolution, or development, is, in fact, at present -employed in biology as a general name for the history -of the steps by which any living being has acquired -the morphological and the physiological characters -which distinguish it. As civil history may be divided -into biography, which is the history of individuals, -and universal history, which is the history of the -human race, so evolution falls naturally into two -categories,—the evolution of the individual, and the -evolution of the sum of living beings. It will be -convenient to deal with the modern doctrine of evolution -under these two heads.</p> - -<h3>I. <i>The Evolution of the Individual.</i></h3> - -<p>No exception is, at this time, known to the -general law, established upon an immense multitude<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_283" id="Page_283">283</a></span> -of direct observations, that every living thing is -evolved from a particle of matter in which no trace of -the distinctive characters of the adult form of that -living thing is discernible. This particle is termed a -<em>germ</em>. Harvey<a name="FNanchor_76_76" id="FNanchor_76_76"></a><a href="#Footnote_76_76" class="fnanchor">76</a> says—</p> - -<div class="blockquot"> - -<p lang="la" xml:lang="la">“Omnibus viventibus primordium insit, ex quo et a quo proveniant. -Liceat hoc nobis <i>primordium vegetale</i> nominare; nempe -substantiam quandam corpoream vitam habentem potentiâ; vel -quoddam per se existens, quod aptum sit, in vegetativam formam, -ab interno principio operante, mutari. Quale nempe primordium, -ovum est et plantarum semen; tale etiam viviparorum conceptus, -et insectorum <i>vermis</i> ab Aristotele dictus: diversa scilicet diversorum -viventium primordia.”</p></div> - -<p>The definition of a germ as “matter potentially -alive, and having within itself the tendency to assume -a definite living form,” appears to meet all the requirements -of modern science. For, notwithstanding -it might be justly questioned whether a germ is not -merely potentially, but rather actually, alive, though -its vital manifestations are reduced to a minimum, -the term “potential” may fairly be used in a sense -broad enough to escape the objection. And the -qualification of “potential” has the advantage of -reminding us that the great characteristic of the germ -is not so much what it is, but what it may, under -suitable conditions, become. Harvey shared the belief -of Aristotle—whose writings he so often quotes, -and of whom he speaks as his precursor and model, -with the generous respect with which one genuine -worker should regard another—that such germs may -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_284" id="Page_284">284</a></span>arise by a process of “equivocal generation” out of -not-living matter; and the aphorism so commonly -ascribed to him, “<em lang="la" xml:lang="la">omne vivum ex ovo</em>,” and which is -indeed a fair summary of his reiterated assertions, -though incessantly employed against the modern -advocates of spontaneous generation, can be honestly -so used only by those who have never read a score -of pages of the “Exercitationes.” Harvey, in fact, -believed as implicitly as Aristotle did in the equivocal -generation of the lower animals. But, while the -course of modern investigation has only brought out -into greater prominence the accuracy of Harvey’s -conception of the nature and mode of development of -germs, it has as distinctly tended to disprove the occurrence -of equivocal generation, or abiogenesis, in the -present course of nature. In the immense majority -of both plants and animals, it is certain that the germ -is not merely a body in which life is dormant or -potential, but that it is itself simply a detached portion -of the substance of a pre-existing living body; -and the evidence has yet to be adduced which will -satisfy any cautious reasoner that “omne vivum ex -vivo” is not as well-established a law of the existing -course of nature as “omne vivum ex ovo.”</p> - -<p>In all instances which have yet been investigated, -the substance of this germ has a peculiar -chemical composition, consisting of at fewest four -elementary bodies, viz. carbon, hydrogen, oxygen, -and nitrogen, united into the ill-defined compound -known as protein, and associated with much water, -and very generally, if not always, with sulphur and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_285" id="Page_285">285</a></span> -phosphorus in minute proportions. Moreover, up to -the present time, protein is known only as a product -and constituent of living matter. Again, a true germ -is either devoid of any structure discernible by optical -means, or, at most, it is a simple nucleated cell.<a name="FNanchor_77_77" id="FNanchor_77_77"></a><a href="#Footnote_77_77" class="fnanchor">77</a></p> - -<p>In all cases, the process of evolution consists in a -succession of changes of the form, structure, and -functions of the germ, by which it passes, step by -step, from an extreme simplicity, or relative homogeneity, -of visible structure, to a greater or less degree -of complexity or heterogeneity; and the course of -progressive differentiation is usually accompanied by -growth, which is effected by intussusception. This -intussusception, however, is a very different process -from that imagined either by Buffon, or by Bonnet. -The substance by the addition of which the germ is -enlarged is, in no case, simply absorbed ready-made -from the not-living world and packed between the -elementary constituents of the germ, as Bonnet imagined; -still less does it consist of the “molecules -organiques” of Buffon. The new material is, in great -measure, not only absorbed but assimilated, so that it -becomes part and parcel of the molecular structure of -the living body into which it enters. And, so far -from the fully developed organism being simply the -germ <em>plus</em> the nutriment which it has absorbed, it is -probable that the adult contains neither in form, nor in -substance, more than an inappreciable fraction of the -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_286" id="Page_286">286</a></span>constituents of the germ, and that it is almost, if not -wholly, made up of assimilated and metamorphosed -nutriment. In the great majority of cases, at any -rate, the full-grown organism becomes what it is by -the absorption of not-living matter, and its conversion -into living matter of a specific type. As Harvey says -(Ex. 45), all parts of the body are nourished “ab -eodem succo alibili, aliter aliterque cambiato,” “ut -plantæ omnes ex eodem communi nutrimento (sive -rore seu terræ humore).”</p> - -<p>In all animals and plants, above the lowest, the -germ is a nucleated cell, using that term in its -broadest sense; and the first step in the process of -the evolution of the individual is the division of this -cell into two or more portions. The process of -division is repeated, until the organism, from being -unicellular, becomes multicellular. The single cell -becomes a cell-aggregate; and it is to the growth and -metamorphosis of the cells of the cell-aggregate thus -produced, that all the organs and tissues of the adult -owe their origin.</p> - -<p>In certain animals belonging to every one of the -chief groups into which the <i>Metazoa</i> are divisible, the -cells of the cell-aggregate which results from the -process of yelk-division, and which is termed a -<i>morula</i>, diverge from one another in such a manner -as to give rise to a central space, around which they -dispose themselves as a coat or envelope; and thus -the morula becomes a vesicle filled with fluid, the -<i>planula</i>. The wall of the planula is next pushed in -on one side, or invaginated, whereby it is converted<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_287" id="Page_287">287</a></span> -into a double-walled sac with an opening, the <i>blastopore</i>, -which leads into the cavity lined by the inner -wall. This cavity is the primitive alimentary cavity -or <i>archenteron</i>; the inner, or invaginated, layer is -the <i>hypoblast</i>, the outer the <i>epiblast</i>; and the -embryo, in this stage, is termed a <i>gastrula</i>. In all -the higher animals, a layer of cells makes its appearance -between the hypoblast and the epiblast, and is -termed the <i>mesoblast</i>. In the further course of -development, the epiblast becomes the ectoderm or -epidermic layer of the body; the hypoblast becomes -the epithelium of the middle portion of the alimentary -canal; and the mesoblast gives rise to all the other -tissues, except the central nervous system, which -originates from an ingrowth of the epiblast.</p> - -<p>With more or less modification in detail, the -embryo has been observed to pass through these -successive evolutional stages in sundry Sponges, -Cœlenterates, Worms, Echinoderms, Tunicates, Arthropods, -Mollusks, and Vertebrates; and there are -valid reasons for the belief, that all animals of higher -organisation than the <i>Protozoa</i> agree in the general -character of the early stages of their individual evolution. -Each, starting from the condition of a simple -nucleated cell, becomes a cell-aggregate; and this passes -through a condition which represents the gastrula -stage, before taking on the features distinctive of the -group to which it belongs. Stated in this form, the -“gastræa theory” of Haeckel appears to the present -writer to be one of the most important and best -founded of recent generalisations. So far as indi<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_288" id="Page_288">288</a></span>vidual -plants and animals are concerned, therefore, -evolution is not a speculation but a fact; and it -takes place by epigenesis.</p> - -<div class="blockquot"> - -<p lang="la" xml:lang="la">“Animal ... per <i>epigenesin</i> procreatur, materiam simul -attrahit, parat, concoquit, et eâdem utitur; formatur simul et -augetur ... primum futuri corporis concrementum ... prout -augetur, dividitur sensim et distinguitur in partes, non simul -omnes, sed alias post alias natas, et ordine quasque suo emergentes.”<a name="FNanchor_78_78" id="FNanchor_78_78"></a><a href="#Footnote_78_78" class="fnanchor">78</a></p></div> - -<p>In these words, by the divination of genius, -Harvey, in the seventeenth century, summed up the -outcome of the work of all those who, with appliances -he could not dream of, are continuing his labours in -the nineteenth century.</p> - -<p>Nevertheless, though the doctrine of epigenesis, -as understood by Harvey, has definitively triumphed -over the doctrine of evolution, as understood by his -opponents of the eighteenth century, it is not impossible -that, when the analysis of the process of -development is carried still farther, and the origin of -the molecular components of the physically gross, -though sensibly minute, bodies which we term germs -is traced, the theory of development will approach -more nearly to metamorphosis than to epigenesis. -Harvey thought that impregnation influenced the -female organism as a contagion; and that the blood, -which he conceived to be the first rudiment of the -germ, arose in the clear fluid of the “colliquamentum” -of the ovum by a process of concrescence, as a sort -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_289" id="Page_289">289</a></span>of living precipitate. We now know, on the contrary, -that the female germ or ovum, in all the higher -animals and plants, is a body which possesses the -structure of a nucleated cell; that impregnation -consists in the fusion of the substance<a name="FNanchor_79_79" id="FNanchor_79_79"></a><a href="#Footnote_79_79" class="fnanchor">79</a> of another -more or less modified nucleated cell, the male -germ, with the ovum; and that the structural -components of the body of the embryo are all -derived, by a process of division, from the coalesced -male and female germs. Hence it is conceivable, and -indeed probable, that every part of the adult contains -molecules, derived both from the male and from the -female parent; and that, regarded as a mass of -molecules, the entire organism may be compared to a -web of which the warp is derived from the female -and the woof from the male. And each of these may -constitute one individuality, in the same sense as the -whole organism is one individual, although the matter -of the organism has been constantly changing. The -primitive male and female molecules may play the -part of Buffon’s “moules organiques,” and mould the -assimilated nutriment, each according to its own type, -into innumerable new molecules. From this point of -view the process, which, in its superficial aspect, is -epigenesis, appears in essence, to be evolution, in the -modified sense adopted in Bonnet’s later writings; -and development is merely the expansion of a potential -organism or “original preformation” according -to fixed laws.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_290" id="Page_290">290</a></span></p> - -<h3>II. <i>The Evolution of the Sum of Living Beings.</i></h3> - -<p>The notion that all the kinds of animals and plants -may have come into existence by the growth and -modification of primordial germs is as old as speculative -thought; but the modern scientific form of the doctrine -can be traced historically to the influence of several -converging lines of philosophical speculation and of -physical observation, none of which go farther back -than the seventeenth century. These are:—</p> - -<p>1. The enunciation by Descartes of the conception -that the physical universe, whether living or not living, -is a mechanism, and that, as such, it is explicable on -physical principles.</p> - -<p>2. The observation of the gradations of structure, -from extreme simplicity to very great complexity, -presented by living things, and of the relation of these -graduated forms to one another.</p> - -<p>3. The observation of the existence of an analogy -between the series of gradations presented by the -species which compose any great group of animals or -plants, and the series of embryonic conditions of the -highest members of that group.</p> - -<p>4. The observation that large groups of species of -widely different habits present the same fundamental -plan of structure; and that parts of the same animal -or plant, the functions of which are very different, -likewise exhibit modifications of a common plan.</p> - -<p>5. The observation of the existence of structures, -in a rudimentary and apparently useless condition, in -one species of a group, which are fully developed and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_291" id="Page_291">291</a></span> -have definite functions in other species of the same -group.</p> - -<p>6. The observation of the effects of varying conditions -in modifying living organisms.</p> - -<p>7. The observation of the facts of geographical -distribution.</p> - -<p>8. The observation of the facts of the geological -succession of the forms of life.</p> - -<p class="tb">1. Notwithstanding the elaborate disguise which -fear of the powers that were led Descartes to throw -over his real opinions, it is impossible to read the -“Principes de la Philosophie” without acquiring the -conviction that this great philosopher held that the -physical world and all things in it, whether living or -not living, have originated by a process of evolution, -due to the continuous operation of purely physical -causes, out of a primitive relatively formless matter.<a name="FNanchor_80_80" id="FNanchor_80_80"></a><a href="#Footnote_80_80" class="fnanchor">80</a></p> - -<p>The following passage is especially instructive:—</p> - -<div class="blockquot"> - -<p lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">“Et tant s’en faut que je veuille que l’on croie toutes les -choses que j’écrirai, que même je pretends en proposer ici quelques -unes que je crois absolument être fausses; à savoir, je ne doute -point que le monde n’ait été créé au commencement avec autant -de perfection qu’il en a; en sorte que le soleil, la terre, la lune, -et les étoiles ont été dès lors; et que la terre n’a pas eu seulement -en soi les semences des plantes, mais que les plantes même en -ont couvert une partie; et qu’Adam et Eve n’ont pas été créés -enfans mais en âge d’hommes parfaits. La religion chrétienne -veut que nous le croyons ainsi, et la raison naturelle nous persuade -entièrement cette vérité; car si nous considérons la toute puissance -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_292" id="Page_292">292</a></span>de Dieu, nous devons juger que tout ce qu’il a fait a eu dès le -commencement toute la perfection qu’il devoit avoir. Mais -néanmoins, comme on connôitroit beaucoup mieux quelle a été la -nature d’Adam et celle des arbres de Paradis si on avoit examiné -comment les enfants se forment peu à peu dans le ventre de leurs -mères et comment les plantes sortent de leurs semences, que si -on avoit seulement considéré quels ils ont été quand Dieu les a -créés: tout de même, nous ferons mieux entendre quelle est -généralement la nature de toutes les choses qui sont au monde si -nous pouvons imaginer quelques principes qui soient fort intelligibles -et fort simples, desquels nous puissions voir clairement que -les astres et la terre et enfin tout ce monde visible auroit pu être -produit ainsi que de quelques semences (bien que nous sachions -qu’il n’a pas été produit en cette façon) que si nous la decrivions -seulement comme il est, ou bien comme nous croyons qu’il a été -créé. Et parceque je pense avoir trouvé des principes qui sont -tels, je tacherai ici de les expliquer.”<a name="FNanchor_81_81" id="FNanchor_81_81"></a><a href="#Footnote_81_81" class="fnanchor">81</a></p></div> - -<p>If we read between the lines of this singular exhibition -of force of one kind and weakness of another, -it is clear that Descartes believed that he had divined -the mode in which the physical universe had been -evolved; and the “Traité de l’homme,” and the essay -“Sur les Passions” afford abundant additional evidence -that he sought for, and thought he had found, an -explanation of the phenomena of physical life by -deduction from purely physical laws.</p> - -<p>Spinoza abounds in the same sense, and is as usual -perfectly candid—</p> - -<div class="blockquot"> - -<p>“Naturæ leges et regulæ, secundum quas omnia fiunt et ex -unis formis in alias mutantur, sunt ubique et semper eadem.”<a name="FNanchor_82_82" id="FNanchor_82_82"></a><a href="#Footnote_82_82" class="fnanchor">82</a></p></div> - -<p>Leibnitz’s doctrine of continuity necessarily led -him in the same direction; and, of the infinite multi<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_293" id="Page_293">293</a></span>tude -of monads with which he peopled the world, -each is supposed to be the focus of an endless process -of evolution and involution. In the “Protogæa,” -xxvi., Leibnitz distinctly suggests the mutability of -species—</p> - -<div class="blockquot"> - -<p lang="la" xml:lang="la">“Alii mirantur in saxis passim species videri quas vel in orbe -cognito, vel saltem in vicinis locis frustra quæras. Ita “Cornua -Ammonis,” quæ ex nautilorum numero habeantur, passim et forma -et magnitudine (nam et pedali diametro aliquando reperiuntur) -ab omnibus illis naturis discrepare dicunt, quas præbet mare. Sed -quis absconditos ejus recessus aut subterraneas abyssos pervestigavit? -quam multa nobis animalia antea ignota offert novus orbis? -Et credibile est per magnas illas conversiones etiam animalium -species plurimum immutatas.”</p></div> - -<p>Thus, in the end of the seventeenth century, the -seed was sown which has, at intervals, brought forth -recurrent crops of evolutional hypotheses, based, more -or less completely, on general reasonings.</p> - -<p>Among the earliest of these speculations is that -put forward by Benoit de Maillet in his “Telliamed,” -which, though printed in 1735, was not published -until twenty-three years later. Considering that this -book was written before the time of Haller, or Bonnet, -or Linnæus, or Hutton, it surely deserves more respectful -consideration than it usually receives. For De -Maillet not only has a definite conception of the -plasticity of living things, and of the production of -existing species by the modification of their predecessors; -but he clearly apprehends the cardinal maxim -of modern geological science, that the explanation of -the structure of the globe is to be sought in the -deductive application to geological phenomena of the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_294" id="Page_294">294</a></span> -principles established inductively by the study of the -present course of nature. Somewhat later, Maupertuis<a name="FNanchor_83_83" id="FNanchor_83_83"></a><a href="#Footnote_83_83" class="fnanchor">83</a> -suggested a curious hypothesis as to the causes of -variation, which he thinks may be sufficient to account -for the origin of all animals from a single pair. -Robinet<a name="FNanchor_84_84" id="FNanchor_84_84"></a><a href="#Footnote_84_84" class="fnanchor">84</a> followed out much the same line of thought -as De Maillet, but less soberly; and Bonnet’s speculations -in the “Palingénésie,” which appeared in 1769, -have already been mentioned. Buffon (1753-1778), -at first a partisan of the absolute immutability of -species, subsequently appears to have believed that -larger or smaller groups of species have been produced -by the modification of a primitive stock; but -he contributed nothing to the general doctrine of -evolution.</p> - -<p>Erasmus Darwin (“Zoonomia,” 1794), though a -zealous evolutionist, can hardly be said to have made -any real advance on his predecessors; and, notwithstanding -that Goethe (1791-4) had the advantage of -a wide knowledge of morphological facts, and a true -insight into their signification, while he threw all the -power of a great poet into the expression of his -conceptions, it may be questioned whether he supplied -the doctrine of evolution with a firmer scientific basis -than it already possessed. Moreover, whatever the -value of Goethe’s labours in that field, they were not -published before 1820, long after evolutionism had -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_295" id="Page_295">295</a></span>taken a new departure from the works of Treviranus -and Lamarck—the first of its advocates who were -equipped for their task with the needful large and -accurate knowledge of the phenomena of life, as a -whole. It is remarkable that each of these writers -seems to have been led, independently and contemporaneously, -to invent the same name of “Biology” -for the science of the phenomena of life; and thus, -following Buffon, to have recognised the essential -unity of these phenomena, and their contradistinction -from those of inanimate nature. And it is hard to -say whether Lamarck or Treviranus has the priority -in propounding the main thesis of the doctrine of -evolution; for though the first volume of Treviranus’s -“Biologie” appeared only in 1802, he says, in the preface -to his later work, the “Erscheinungen und Gesetze des -organischen Lebens,” dated 1831, that he wrote the -first volume of the “Biologie” “nearly five-and-thirty -years ago,” or about 1796.</p> - -<p>Now, in 1794, there is evidence that Lamarck held -doctrines which present a striking contrast to those -which are to be found in the <span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">“Philosophie Zoologique,”</span> -as the following passages show:—</p> - -<div class="blockquot"> - -<p lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">“685. Quoique mon unique objet dans cet article n’ait été que -de traiter de la cause physique de l’entretien de la vie des êtres -organiques, malgré cela j’ai osé avancer en débutant, que l’existence -de ces êtres étonnants n’appartiennent nullement à la nature; que -tout ce qu’on peut entendre par le mot <em>nature</em>, ne pouvoit donner -la vie, c’est-à-dire, que toutes les qualités de la matière, jointes à -toutes les circonstances possibles, et même à l’activité répandue -dans l’univers, ne pouvaient point produire un être muni du -mouvement organique, capable de reproduire son semblable, et -sujet à la mort.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_296" id="Page_296">296</a></span></p> - -<p lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">“686. Tous les individus de cette nature, qui existent, proviennent -d’individus semblables qui tous ensemble constituent -l’espèce entière. Or, je crois qu’il est aussi impossible à l’homme -de connôitre la cause physique du premier individu de chaque -espèce, que d’assigner aussi physiquement la cause de l’existence -de la matière ou de l’univers entier. C’est au moins ce que le -résultat de mes connaissances et de mes réflexions me portent à -penser. S’il existe beaucoup de variétés produites par l’effet des -circonstances, ces variétés ne dénaturent point les espèces; mais -on se trompe, sans doute souvent, en indiquant comme espèce, ce -qui n’est que variété; et alors je sens que cette erreur peut tirer -à conséquence dans les raisonnements que l’on fait sur cette -matière.”<a name="FNanchor_85_85" id="FNanchor_85_85"></a><a href="#Footnote_85_85" class="fnanchor">85</a></p></div> - -<p>The first three volumes of Treviranus’s “Biologie,” -which contain his general views of evolution, appeared -between 1802 and 1805. The “Recherches sur l’organisation -des corps vivants,” in which the outlines of -Lamarck’s doctrines are given, was published in 1802; -but the full development of his views, in the “Philosophie -Zoologique,” did not take place until 1809.</p> - -<p>The “Biologie” and the “Philosophie Zoologique” are -both very remarkable productions, and are still worthy -of attentive study, but they fell upon evil times. -The vast authority of Cuvier was employed in support -of the traditionally respectable hypotheses of special -creation and of catastrophism; and the wild speculations -of the “Discours sur les Révolutions de la Surface -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_297" id="Page_297">297</a></span>du Globe” were held to be models of sound scientific -thinking, while the really much more sober and -philosophical hypotheses of the “Hydrogeologie” were -scouted. For many years it was the fashion to speak -of Lamarck with ridicule, while Treviranus was -altogether ignored.</p> - -<p>Nevertheless, the work had been done. The conception -of evolution was henceforward irrepressible, -and it incessantly reappears, in one shape or another,<a name="FNanchor_86_86" id="FNanchor_86_86"></a><a href="#Footnote_86_86" class="fnanchor">86</a> -up to the year 1858, when Mr. Darwin and Mr. -Wallace published their “Theory of Natural Selection.” -The “Origin of Species” appeared in 1859; and it is -within the knowledge of all whose memories go back -to that time, that, henceforward, the doctrine of evolution -has assumed a position and acquired an importance -which it never before possessed. In the “Origin -of Species,” and in his other numerous and important -contributions to the solution of the problem of biological -evolution, Mr. Darwin confines himself to the -discussion of the causes which have brought about the -present condition of living matter, assuming such -matter to have once come into existence. On the -other hand, Mr. Spencer<a name="FNanchor_87_87" id="FNanchor_87_87"></a><a href="#Footnote_87_87" class="fnanchor">87</a> and Professor Haeckel<a name="FNanchor_88_88" id="FNanchor_88_88"></a><a href="#Footnote_88_88" class="fnanchor">88</a> -have dealt with the whole problem of evolution. The -profound and vigorous writings of Mr. Spencer embody -the spirit of Descartes in the knowledge of our -own day, and may be regarded as the “Principes de la -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_298" id="Page_298">298</a></span>Philosophie” of the nineteenth century; while, whatever -hesitation may not unfrequently be felt by less -daring minds, in following Haeckel in many of his -speculations, his attempt to systematise the doctrine -of evolution and to exhibit its influence as the central -thought of modern biology, cannot fail to have a far-reaching -influence on the progress of science.</p> - -<p>If we seek for the reason of the difference between -the scientific position of the doctrine of evolution a -century ago, and that which it occupies now, we shall -find it in the great accumulation of facts, the several -classes of which have been enumerated above, under -the second to the eighth heads. For those which are -grouped under the second to the seventh of these -classes, respectively, have a clear significance on the -hypothesis of evolution, while they are unintelligible -if that hypothesis be denied. And those of the eighth -group are not only unintelligible without the assumption -of evolution, but can be proved never to be discordant -with that hypothesis, while, in some cases, -they are exactly such as the hypothesis requires. The -demonstration of these assertions would require a -volume, but the general nature of the evidence on -which they rest may be briefly indicated.</p> - -<p>2. The accurate investigation of the lowest forms -of animal life, commenced by Leeuwenhoek and Swammerdam, -and continued by the remarkable labours -of Reaumur, Trembley, Bonnet, and a host of other -observers, in the latter part of the seventeenth and the -first half of the eighteenth centuries, drew the attention -of biologists to the gradation in the complexity of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_299" id="Page_299">299</a></span> -organisation which is presented by living beings, and -culminated in the doctrine of the “échelle des êtres,” -so powerfully and clearly stated by Bonnet; and, -before him, adumbrated by Locke and by Leibnitz. -In the then state of knowledge, it appeared that all -the species of animals and plants could be arranged in -one series; in such a manner that, by insensible -gradations, the mineral passed into the plant, the -plant into the polype, the polype into the worm, and -so, through gradually higher forms of life, to man, at -the summit of the animated world.</p> - -<p>But, as knowledge advanced, this conception ceased -to be tenable in the crude form in which it was first -put forward. Taking into account existing animals -and plants alone, it became obvious that they fell into -groups which were more or less sharply separated from -one another; and, moreover, that even the species of -a genus can hardly ever be arranged in linear series. -Their natural resemblances and differences are only -to be expressed by disposing them as if they were -branches springing from a common hypothetical -centre.</p> - -<p>Lamarck, while affirming the verbal proposition -that animals form a single series, was forced by his -vast acquaintance with the details of zoology to limit -the assertion to such a series as may be formed out of -the abstractions constituted by the common characters -of each group.<a name="FNanchor_89_89" id="FNanchor_89_89"></a><a href="#Footnote_89_89" class="fnanchor">89</a></p> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_300" id="Page_300">300</a></span></p> -<p>Cuvier on anatomical, and Von Baer on embryological -grounds, made the further step of proving that, -even in this limited sense, animals cannot be arranged -in a single series, but that there are several distinct -plans of organisation to be observed among them, no -one of which, in its highest and most complicated -modification, leads to any of the others.</p> - -<p>The conclusions enunciated by Cuvier and Von -Baer have been confirmed, in principle, by all subsequent -research into the structure of animals and plants. -But the effect of the adoption of these conclusions has -been rather to substitute a new metaphor for that of -Bonnet than to abolish the conception expressed by -it. Instead of regarding living things as capable of -arrangement in one series like the steps of a ladder, -the results of modern investigation compel us to dispose -them as if they were the twigs and branches of a -tree. The ends of the twigs represent individuals, the -smallest groups of twigs species, larger groups genera, -and so on, until we arrive at the source of all these -ramifications of the main branch, which is represented -by a common plan of structure. At the present moment, -it is impossible to draw up any definition, based on -broad anatomical or developmental characters, by -which any one of Cuvier’s great groups shall be -separated from all the rest. On the contrary, the -lower members of each tend to converge towards the -lower members of all the others. The same may be -said of the vegetable world. The apparently clear -distinction between flowering and flowerless plants -has been broken down by the series of gradations<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_301" id="Page_301">301</a></span> -between the two exhibited by the <i>Lycopodiaceæ</i>, -<i>Rhizocarpeæ</i>, and <i>Gymnospermeæ</i>. The groups of -<i>Fungi</i>, <i>Lichenes</i>, and <i>Algæ</i> have completely run into -one another, and, when the lowest forms of each are -alone considered, even the animal and vegetable kingdoms -cease to have a definite frontier.</p> - -<p>If it is permissible to speak of the relations of -living forms to one another metaphorically, the similitude -chosen must undoubtedly be that of a common -root, whence two main trunks, one representing the -vegetable and one the animal world, spring; and, each -dividing into a few main branches, these subdivide -into multitudes of branchlets and these into smaller -groups of twigs.</p> - -<p>As Lamarck has well said—<a name="FNanchor_90_90" id="FNanchor_90_90"></a><a href="#Footnote_90_90" class="fnanchor">90</a></p> - -<div class="blockquot"> - -<p lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">“Il n’y a que ceux qui se sont longtemps et fortement occupés -de la détermination des espèces, et qui ont consulté de riches -collections, qui peuvent savoir jusqu’à quel point les <em lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">espèces</em>, parmi -les corps vivants se fondent les unes dans les autres, et qui ont -pu se convaincre que, dans les parties où nous voyons des <em lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">espèces</em> -isolès, cela n’est ainsi que parcequ’il nous en manque d’autres qui -en sont plus voisines et que nous n’avons pas encore recueillies.</p> - -<p lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">“Je ne veux pas dire pour cela que les animaux qui existent -forment une série très-simple et partout également nuancée; -mais je dis qu’ils forment une série rameuse, irréguliérement -graduée et qui n’a point de discontinuité dans ses parties, ou qui, -du moins, n’en a toujours pas eu, s’il est vrai que, par suite de -quelques espèces perdues, il s’en trouve quelque part. Il en -resulte que les <em lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">espèces</em> qui terminent chaque rameau de la série -générale tiennent, au moins d’un côté, à d’autres espèces voisines -qui se nuancent avec elles. Voilà ce que l’état bien connu des -choses me met maintenant à portée de demontrer. Je n’ai -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_302" id="Page_302">302</a></span>besoin d’aucune hypothèse ni d’aucune supposition pour cela: j’en -atteste tous les naturalistes observateurs.”</p></div> - -<p>3. In a remarkable essay<a name="FNanchor_91_91" id="FNanchor_91_91"></a><a href="#Footnote_91_91" class="fnanchor">91</a> Meckel remarks—</p> - -<div class="blockquot"> - -<p>“There is no good physiologist who has not been struck by -the observation that the original form of all organisms is one -and the same, and that out of this one form, all, the lowest as well -as the highest, are developed in such a manner that the latter pass -through the permanent forms of the former as transitory stages. -Aristotle, Haller, Harvey, Kielmeyer, Autenrieth, and many -others, have either made this observation incidentally, or, especially -the latter, have drawn particular attention to it, and -drawn therefrom results of permanent importance for physiology.”</p></div> - -<p>Meckel proceeds to exemplify the thesis, that the -lower forms of animals represent stages in the course -of the development of the higher, with a large series -of illustrations.</p> - -<p>After comparing the Salamanders and the perenni-branchiate -<i>Urodela</i> with the Tadpoles and the Frogs, -and enunciating the law that the more highly any -animal is organised the more quickly does it pass -through the lower stages, Meckel goes on to say—</p> - -<div class="blockquot"> - -<p>“From these lowest Vertebrata to the highest, and to the -highest forms among these, the comparison between the embryonic -conditions of the higher animals and the adult states of the -lower can be more completely and thoroughly instituted than if -the survey is extended to the Invertebrata, inasmuch as the latter -are in many respects constructed upon an altogether too dissimilar -type; indeed they often differ from one another far -more than the lowest vertebrate does from the highest mammal; -yet the following pages will show that the comparison may also -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_303" id="Page_303">303</a></span>be extended to them with interest. In fact, there is a period -when, as Aristotle long ago said, the embryo of the highest -animal has the form of a mere worm; and, devoid of internal -and external organisation, is merely an almost structureless lump -of polype-substance. Notwithstanding the origin of organs, -it still for a certain time, by reason of its want of an internal -bony skeleton, remains worm and mollusk, and only later enters -into the series of the Vertebrata, although traces of the vertebral -column even in the earliest periods testify its claim to a place in -that series.”—<i>Op. cit.</i> pp. 4, 5.</p></div> - -<p>If Meckel’s proposition is so far qualified, that the -comparison of adult with embryonic forms is restricted -within the limits of one type of organisation; and, if -it is further recollected that the resemblance between -the permanent lower form and the embryonic stage of -a higher form is not special but general, it is in entire -accordance with modern embryology; although there -is no branch of biology which has grown so largely, -and improved its methods so much, since Meckel’s -time, as this. In its original form, the doctrine of -“arrest of development,” as advocated by Geoffroy -Saint-Hilaire and Serres, was no doubt an over-statement -of the case. It is not true, for example, that a -fish is a reptile arrested in its development, or that a -reptile was ever a fish: but it is true that the reptile -embryo, at one stage of its development, is an organism -which, if it had an independent existence, must be -classified among fishes; and all the organs of the -reptile pass, in the course of their development, through -conditions which are closely analogous to those which -are permanent in some fishes.</p> - -<p>4. That branch of biology which is termed Mor<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_304" id="Page_304">304</a></span>phology -is a commentary upon, and expansion of, the -proposition that widely different animals or plants, -and widely different parts of animals or plants, are -constructed upon the same plan. From the rough comparison -of the skeleton of a bird with that of a man -by Belon, in the sixteenth century (to go no farther -back), down to the theory of the limbs and the theory -of the skull at the present day; or, from the first -demonstration of the homologies of the parts of a -flower by C. F. Wolff, to the present elaborate analysis -of the floral organs, morphology exhibits a continual -advance towards the demonstration of a fundamental -unity among the seeming diversities of living structures. -And this demonstration has been completed -by the final establishment of the cell theory, which -involves the admission of a primitive conformity, not -only of all the elementary structures in animals and -plants respectively, but of those in the one of these -great divisions of living things with those in the other. -No <em>à priori</em> difficulty can be said to stand in the way -of evolution, when it can be shown that all animals -and all plants proceed by modes of development, -which are similar in principle, from a fundamental -protoplasmic material.</p> - -<p>5. The innumerable cases of structures, which are -rudimentary and apparently useless, in species, the -close allies of which possess well developed and functionally -important homologous structures, are readily -intelligible on the theory of evolution, while it is hard -to conceive their <em lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">raison d’être</em> on any other hypothesis. -However, a cautious reasoner will probably rather<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_305" id="Page_305">305</a></span> -explain such cases deductively from the doctrine of -evolution than endeavour to support the doctrine of -evolution by them. For it is almost impossible to -prove that any structure, however rudimentary, is -useless—that is to say, that it plays no part whatever -in the economy; and, if it is in the slightest degree -useful, there is no reason why, on the hypothesis of -direct creation, it should not have been created. -Nevertheless, double-edged as is the argument from -rudimentary organs, there is probably none which -has produced a greater effect in promoting the general -acceptance of the theory of evolution.</p> - -<p>6. The older advocates of evolution sought for -the causes of the process exclusively in the influence -of varying conditions, such as climate and station, or -hybridisation, upon living forms. Even Treviranus -has got no farther than this point. Lamarck introduced -the conception of the action of an animal on -itself as a factor in producing modification. Starting -from the well-known fact that the habitual use of a -limb tends to develop the muscles of the limb, and to -produce a greater and greater facility in using it, he -made the general assumption that the effort of an -animal to exert an organ in a given direction tends to -develop the organ in that direction. But a little -consideration showed that, though Lamarck had seized -what, as far as it goes, is a true cause of modification, -it is a cause the actual effects of which are wholly -inadequate to account for any considerable modification -in animals, and which can have no influence at -all in the vegetable world; and probably nothing con<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_306" id="Page_306">306</a></span>tributed -so much to discredit evolution, in the early -part of this century, as the floods of easy ridicule -which were poured upon this part of Lamarck’s speculation. -The theory of natural selection, or survival -of the fittest, was suggested by Wells in 1813, -and further elaborated by Matthew in 1831. But -the pregnant suggestions of these writers remained -practically unnoticed and forgotten, until the theory -was independently devised and promulgated by -Darwin and Wallace in 1858, and the effect of its -publication was immediate and profound.</p> - -<p>Those who were unwilling to accept evolution, -without better grounds than such as are offered by -Lamarck, or the author of that particularly unsatisfactory -book, the “Vestiges of the Natural History of -the Creation,” and who therefore preferred to suspend -their judgment on the question, found, in the principle -of selective breeding, pursued in all its applications -with marvellous knowledge and skill by Mr. Darwin, -a valid explanation of the occurrence of varieties and -races; and they saw clearly that, if the explanation -would apply to species, it would not only solve the -problem of their evolution, but that it would account -for the facts of teleology, as well as for those of morphology; -and for the persistence of some forms of life -unchanged through long epochs of time, while others -undergo comparatively rapid metamorphosis.</p> - -<p>How far “natural selection” suffices for the production -of species remains to be seen. Few can doubt -that, if not the whole cause, it is a very important -factor in that operation; and that it must play a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_307" id="Page_307">307</a></span> -great part in the sorting out of varieties into those -which are transitory and those which are permanent.</p> - -<p>But the causes and conditions of variation have -yet to be thoroughly explored; and the importance of -natural selection will not be impaired, even if further -inquiries should prove that variability is definite, and -is determined in certain directions rather than in -others, by conditions inherent in that which varies. -It is quite conceivable that every species tends to -produce varieties of a limited number and kind, and -that the effect of natural selection is to favour the -development of some of these, while it opposes the -development of others along their predetermined lines -of modification.</p> - -<p>7. No truths brought to light by biological investigation -were better calculated to inspire distrust of -the dogmas intruded upon science in the name of -theology, than those which relate to the distribution -of animals and plants on the surface of the earth. -Very skilful accommodation was needful, if the limitation -of sloths to South America, and of the ornithorhynchus -to Australia, was to be reconciled with the -literal interpretation of the history of the deluge; and, -with the establishment of the existence of distinct -provinces of distribution, any serious belief in the -peopling of the world by migration from Mount Ararat -came to an end.</p> - -<p>Under these circumstances, only one alternative -was left for those who denied the occurrence of evolution—namely, -the supposition that the characteristic -animals and plants of each great province were<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_308" id="Page_308">308</a></span> -created, as such, within the limits in which we find -them. And as the hypothesis of “specific centres,” -thus formulated, was heterodox from the theological -point of view, and unintelligible under its scientific -aspect, it may be passed over without further notice, -as a phase of transition from the creational to the -evolutional hypothesis.</p> - -<p>8. In fact, the strongest and most conclusive -arguments in favour of evolution are those which -are based upon the facts of geographical, taken in -conjunction with those of geological, distribution.</p> - -<p>Both Mr. Darwin and Mr. Wallace lay great stress -on the close relation which obtains between the existing -fauna of any region and that of the immediately -antecedent geological epoch in the same region; and -rightly, for it is in truth inconceivable that there -should be no genetic connection between the two. It -is possible to put into words the proposition that all -the animals and plants of each geological epoch were -annihilated, and that a new set of very similar forms -was created for the next epoch; but it may be doubted -if any one who ever tried to form a distinct mental -image of this process of spontaneous generation on the -grandest scale, ever really succeeded in realising it.</p> - -<p>Within the last twenty years, the attention of the -best palæontologists has been withdrawn from the -hodman’s work of making “new species” of fossils, -to the scientific task of completing our knowledge of -individual species, and tracing out the succession of -the forms presented by any given type in time.</p> - -<p>Those who desire to inform themselves of the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_309" id="Page_309">309</a></span> -nature and extent of the evidence bearing on these -questions may consult the works of Rütimeyer, -Gaudry, Kowalewsky, Marsh, and the writer of the -present article. It must suffice, in this place, to say -that the successive forms of the Equine type have -been fully worked out; while those of nearly all the -other existing types of Ungulate mammals and of -the <i>Carnivora</i> have been almost as closely followed -through the Tertiary deposits; the gradations between -birds and reptiles have been traced; and the -modifications undergone by the <i>Crocodilia</i>, from the -Triassic epoch to the present day, have been demonstrated. -On the evidence of palæontology, the evolution -of many existing forms of animal life from -their predecessors is no longer an hypothesis, but an -historical fact; it is only the nature of the physiological -factors to which that evolution is due which is -still open to discussion.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_310" id="Page_310">310</a></span></p> - -<h2>XII.<br /><br /> - -THE COMING OF AGE OF “THE ORIGIN -OF SPECIES.”</h2> - -<p><span class="smcap">Many</span> of you will be familiar with the aspect of this -small green-covered book. It is a copy of the first -edition of the “Origin of Species,” and bears the date -of its production—the 1st of October 1859. Only a -few months, therefore, are needed to complete the full -tale of twenty-one years since its birthday.</p> - -<p>Those whose memories carry them back to this -time will remember that the infant was remarkably -lively, and that a great number of excellent persons -mistook its manifestations of a vigorous individuality -for mere naughtiness; in fact there was a very pretty -turmoil about its cradle. My recollections of the -period are particularly vivid; for, having conceived a -tender affection for a child of what appeared to me to -be such remarkable promise, I acted for some time in -the capacity of a sort of under-nurse, and thus came -in for my share of the storms which threatened the -very life of the young creature. For some years it -was undoubtedly warm work; but considering how -exceedingly unpleasant the apparition of the new-comer -must have been to those who did not fall in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_311" id="Page_311">311</a></span> -love with him at first sight, I think it is to the credit -of our age that the war was not fiercer, and that the -more bitter and unscrupulous forms of opposition died -away as soon as they did.</p> - -<p>I speak of this period as of something past and -gone, possessing merely an historical, I had almost -said an antiquarian interest. For, during the second -decade of the existence of the “Origin of Species,” -opposition, though by no means dead, assumed a -different aspect. On the part of all those who had -any reason to respect themselves, it assumed a thoroughly -respectful character. By this time, the dullest -began to perceive that the child was not likely to -perish of any congenital weakness or infantile disorder, -but was growing into a stalwart personage, -upon whom mere goody scoldings and threatenings -with the birch-rod were quite thrown away.</p> - -<p>In fact, those who have watched the progress of -science within the last ten years will bear me out to -the full, when I assert that there is no field of biological -inquiry in which the influence of the “Origin -of Species” is not traceable; the foremost men of -science in every country are either avowed champions -of its leading doctrines, or at any rate abstain from -opposing them; a host of young and ardent investigators -seek for and find inspiration and guidance in -Mr. Darwin’s great work; and the general doctrine -of evolution, to one side of which it gives expression, -obtains, in the phenomena of biology, a firm base of -operations whence it may conduct its conquest of the -whole realm of nature.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_312" id="Page_312">312</a></span></p> - -<p>History warns us, however, that it is the customary -fate of new truths to begin as heresies and to -end as superstitions; and, as matters now stand, it is -hardly rash to anticipate that, in another twenty -years, the new generation, educated under the influences -of the present day, will be in danger of accepting -the main doctrines of the “Origin of Species,” with as -little reflection, and it may be with as little justification, -as so many of our contemporaries, twenty years -ago, rejected them.</p> - -<p>Against any such a consummation let us all -devoutly pray; for the scientific spirit is of more -value than its products, and irrationally held truths -may be more harmful than reasoned errors. Now the -essence of the scientific spirit is criticism. It tells us -that whenever a doctrine claims our assent we should -reply, Take it if you can compel it. The struggle for -existence holds as much in the intellectual as in the -physical world. A theory is a species of thinking, -and its right to exist is coextensive with its power of -resisting extinction by its rivals.</p> - -<p>From this point of view, it appears to me that it -would be but a poor way of celebrating the Coming of -Age of the “Origin of Species,” were I merely to -dwell upon the facts, undoubted and remarkable as -they are, of its far-reaching influence and of the great -following of ardent disciples who are occupied in -spreading and developing its doctrines. Mere insanities -and inanities have before now swollen to portentous -size in the course of twenty years. Let us -rather ask this prodigious change in opinion to justify<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_313" id="Page_313">313</a></span> -itself; let us inquire whether anything has happened -since 1859, which will explain, on rational grounds, -why so many are worshipping that which they burned, -and burning that which they worshipped. It is only -in this way that we shall acquire the means of judging -whether the movement we have witnessed is a -mere eddy of fashion, or truly one with the irreversible -current of intellectual progress, and, like it, safe -from retrogressive reaction.</p> - -<p>Every belief is the product of two factors: the -first is the state of the mind to which the evidence in -favour of that belief is presented; and the second is -the logical cogency of the evidence itself. In both -these respects, the history of biological science during -the last twenty years appears to me to afford an -ample explanation of the change which has taken -place; and a brief consideration of the salient events -of that history will enable us to understand why, if -the “Origin of Species” appeared now, it would meet -with a very different reception from that which -greeted it in 1859.</p> - -<p>One-and-twenty years ago, in spite of the work -commenced by Hutton and continued with rare skill -and patience by Lyell, the dominant view of the past -history of the earth was catastrophic. Great and -sudden physical revolutions, wholesale creations and -extinctions of living beings, were the ordinary machinery -of the geological epic brought into fashion by -the misapplied genius of Cuvier. It was gravely -maintained and taught that the end of every geological -epoch was signalised by a cataclysm, by which<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_314" id="Page_314">314</a></span> -every living being on the globe was swept away, -to be replaced by a brand-new creation when the -world returned to quiescence. A scheme of nature -which appeared to be modelled on the likeness of a -succession of rubbers of whist, at the end of each of -which the players upset the table and called for a -new pack, did not seem to shock anybody.</p> - -<p>I may be wrong, but I doubt if, at the present -time, there is a single responsible representative of -these opinions left. The progress of scientific geology -has elevated the fundamental principle of uniformitarianism, -that the explanation of the past is to -be sought in the study of the present, into the position -of an axiom; and the wild speculations of the catastrophists, -to which we all listened with respect a quarter -of a century ago, would hardly find a single patient -hearer at the present day. No physical geologist -now dreams of seeking, outside the range of known -natural causes, for the explanation of anything that -happened millions of years ago, any more than he -would be guilty of the like absurdity in regard to -current events.</p> - -<p>The effect of this change of opinion upon biological -speculation is obvious. For, if there have been no -periodical general physical catastrophes, what brought -about the assumed general extinctions and re-creations -of life which are the corresponding biological catastrophes? -And, if no such interruptions of the -ordinary course of nature have taken place in the -organic, any more than in the inorganic, world, what -alternative is there to the admission of evolution?</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_315" id="Page_315">315</a></span></p> - -<p>The doctrine of evolution in biology is the necessary -result of the logical application of the principles -of uniformitarianism to the phenomena of life. Darwin -is the natural successor of Hutton and Lyell, and -the “Origin of Species” the logical sequence of the -“Principles of Geology.”</p> - -<p>The fundamental doctrine of the “Origin of -Species,” as of all forms of the theory of evolution -applied to biology, is “that the innumerable species, -genera, and families of organic beings with which the -world is peopled have all descended, each within its -own class or group, from common parents, and have -all been modified in the course of descent.”<a name="FNanchor_92_92" id="FNanchor_92_92"></a><a href="#Footnote_92_92" class="fnanchor">92</a></p> - -<p>And, in view of the facts of geology, it follows -that all living animals and plants “are the lineal -descendants of those which lived long before the -Silurian epoch.”<a name="FNanchor_93_93" id="FNanchor_93_93"></a><a href="#Footnote_93_93" class="fnanchor">93</a></p> - -<p>It is an obvious consequence of this theory of -descent with modification, as it is sometimes called, -that all plants and animals, however different they -may now be, must, at one time or other, have been -connected by direct or indirect intermediate gradations, -and that the appearance of isolation presented -by various groups of organic beings must be unreal.</p> - -<p>No part of Mr. Darwin’s work ran more directly -counter to the prepossessions of naturalists twenty -years ago than this. And such prepossessions were -very excusable, for there was undoubtedly a great -deal to be said, at that time, in favour of the fixity of -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_316" id="Page_316">316</a></span>species and of the existence of great breaks, which -there was no obvious or probable means of filling up, -between various groups of organic beings.</p> - -<p>For various reasons, scientific and unscientific, much -had been made of the hiatus between man and the -rest of the higher mammalia, and it is no wonder -that issue was first joined on this part of the controversy. -I have no wish to revive past and happily -forgotten controversies; but I must state the simple -fact that the distinctions in the cerebral and other -characters, which were so hotly affirmed to separate -man from all other animals in 1860, have all been -demonstrated to be non-existent, and that the contrary -doctrine is now universally accepted and taught.</p> - -<p>But there were other cases in which the wide -structural gaps asserted to exist between one group -of animals and another, were by no means fictitious; -and, when such structural breaks were real, Mr. -Darwin could account for them only by supposing -that the intermediate forms which once existed had -become extinct. In a remarkable passage he says—</p> - -<p>“We may thus account even for the distinctness of -whole classes from each other—for instance, of birds -from all other vertebrate animals—by the belief that -many animal forms of life have been utterly lost, -through which the early progenitors of birds were -formerly connected with the early progenitors of the -other vertebrate classes.”<a name="FNanchor_94_94" id="FNanchor_94_94"></a><a href="#Footnote_94_94" class="fnanchor">94</a></p> - -<p>Adverse criticism made merry over such suggestions -as these. Of course it was easy to get out of -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_317" id="Page_317">317</a></span>the difficulty by supposing extinction; but where was -the slightest evidence that such intermediate forms -between birds and reptiles as the hypothesis required -ever existed? And then probably followed a tirade -upon this terrible forsaking of the paths of “Baconian -induction.”</p> - -<p>But the progress of knowledge has justified Mr. -Darwin to an extent which could hardly have been -anticipated. In 1862, the specimen of <i>Archæopteryx</i>, -which, until the last two or three years, has remained -unique, was discovered; and it is an animal which, in -its feathers and the greater part of its organisation, -is a veritable bird, while, in other parts, it is as distinctly -reptilian.</p> - -<p>In 1868, I had the honour of bringing under your -notice, in this theatre, the results of investigations -made, up to that time, into the anatomical characters -of certain ancient reptiles, which showed the nature -of the modifications in virtue of which the type of -the quadrupedal reptile passed into that of a bipedal -bird; and abundant confirmatory evidence of the -justice of the conclusions which I then laid before -you has since come to light.</p> - -<p>In 1875, the discovery of the toothed birds of the -cretaceous formation in North America by Professor -Marsh completed the series of transitional forms -between birds and reptiles, and removed Mr. Darwin’s -proposition that “many animal forms of life have -been utterly lost, through which the early progenitors -of birds were formerly connected with the early -progenitors of the other vertebrate classes,” from<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_318" id="Page_318">318</a></span> -the region of hypothesis to that of demonstrable -fact.</p> - -<p>In 1859, there appeared to be a very sharp and -clear hiatus between vertebrated and invertebrated -animals, not only in their structure, but, what was -more important, in their development. I do not -think that we even yet know the precise links of -connection between the two; but the investigations -of Kowalewsky and others upon the development of -<i>Amphioxus</i> and of the <i>Tunicata</i> prove, beyond a -doubt, that the differences which were supposed to -constitute a barrier between the two are non-existent. -There is no longer any difficulty in understanding -how the vertebrate type may have arisen from the -invertebrate, though the full proof of the manner in -which the transition was actually effected may still -be lacking.</p> - -<p>Again, in 1859, there appeared to be a no less -sharp separation between the two great groups of -flowering and flowerless plants. It is only subsequently -that the series of remarkable investigations -inaugurated by Hofmeister has brought to light the -extraordinary and altogether unexpected modifications -of the reproductive apparatus in the <i>Lycopodiaceæ</i>, the -<i>Rhizocarpeæ</i>, and the <i>Gymnospermeæ</i>, by which the -ferns and the mosses are gradually connected with the -Phanerogamic division of the vegetable world.</p> - -<p>So, again, it is only since 1859 that we have acquired -that wealth of knowledge of the lowest forms -of life which demonstrates the futility of any attempt -to separate the lowest plants from the lowest animals,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_319" id="Page_319">319</a></span> -and shows that the two kingdoms of living nature -have a common borderland which belongs to both or -to neither.</p> - -<p>Thus it will be observed that the whole tendency -of biological investigation, since 1859, has been in the -direction of removing the difficulties which the apparent -breaks in the series created at that time; and the -recognition of gradation is the first step towards the -acceptance of evolution.</p> - -<p>As another great factor in bringing about the -change of opinion which has taken place among -naturalists, I count the astonishing progress which -has been made in the study of embryology. Twenty -years ago, not only were we devoid of any accurate -knowledge of the mode of development of many -groups of animals and plants, but the methods of investigation -were rude and imperfect. At the present -time, there is no important group of organic beings -the development of which has not been carefully -studied; and the modern methods of hardening and -section-making enable the embryologist to determine -the nature of the process, in each case, with a degree -of minuteness and accuracy which is truly astonishing -to those whose memories carry them back to the -beginnings of modern histology. And the results of -these embryological investigations are in complete -harmony with the requirements of the doctrine of -evolution. The first beginnings of all the higher -forms of animal life are similar, and however diverse -their adult conditions, they start from a common -foundation. Moreover, the process of development<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_320" id="Page_320">320</a></span> -of the animal or the plant from its primary egg or -germ is a true process of evolution—a progress from -almost formless to more or less highly organised -matter, in virtue of the properties inherent in that -matter.</p> - -<p>To those who are familiar with the process of -development, all <em>à priori</em> objections to the doctrine of -biological evolution appear childish. Any one who -has watched the gradual formation of a complicated -animal from the protoplasmic mass, which constitutes -the essential element of a frog’s or a hen’s egg, has -had under his eyes sufficient evidence that a similar -evolution of the whole animal world from the like -foundation is, at any rate, possible.</p> - -<p>Yet another product of investigation has largely -contributed to the removal of the objections to the -doctrine of evolution current in 1859. It is the proof -afforded by successive discoveries that Mr. Darwin did -not over-estimate the imperfection of the geological -record. No more striking illustration of this is -needed than a comparison of our knowledge of the -mammalian fauna of the Tertiary epoch in 1859 with -its present condition. M. Gaudry’s researches on the -fossils of Pikermi were published in 1868, those of -Messrs. Leidy, Marsh, and Cope, on the fossils of the -Western Territories of America, have appeared almost -wholly since 1870, those of M. Filhol on the phosphorites -of Quercy in 1878. The general effect of -these investigations has been to introduce to us a -multitude of extinct animals, the existence of which -was previously hardly suspected; just as if zoologists<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_321" id="Page_321">321</a></span> -were to become acquainted with a country, hitherto -unknown, as rich in novel forms of life as Brazil or -South Africa once were to Europeans. Indeed, the -fossil fauna of the Western Territories of America bids -fair to exceed in interest and importance all other -known Tertiary deposits put together; and yet, with -the exception of the case of the American tertiaries, -these investigations have extended over very limited -areas; and, at Pikermi, were confined to an extremely -small space.</p> - -<p class="tb">Such appear to me to be the chief events in the -history of the progress of knowledge during the last -twenty years, which account for the changed feeling -with which the doctrine of evolution is at present -regarded by those who have followed the advance of -biological science, in respect of those problems which -bear indirectly upon that doctrine.</p> - -<p>But all this remains mere secondary evidence. It -may remove dissent, but it does not compel assent. -Primary and direct evidence in favour of evolution -can be furnished only by palæontology. The geological -record, so soon as it approaches completeness, -must, when properly questioned, yield either an -affirmative or a negative answer: if evolution has -taken place, there will its mark be left; if it has not -taken place, there will lie its refutation.</p> - -<p>What was the state of matters in 1859? Let us -hear Mr. Darwin, who may be trusted always to state -the case against himself as strongly as possible.</p> - -<p>“On this doctrine of the extermination of an<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_322" id="Page_322">322</a></span> -infinitude of connecting links between the living and -extinct inhabitants of the world, and at each successive -period between the extinct and still older species, -why is not every geological formation charged with -such links? Why does not every collection of fossil -remains afford plain evidence of the gradation and -mutation of the forms of life? We meet with no -such evidence, and this is the most obvious and -plausible of the many objections which may be urged -against my theory.”<a name="FNanchor_95_95" id="FNanchor_95_95"></a><a href="#Footnote_95_95" class="fnanchor">95</a></p> - -<p>Nothing could have been more useful to the -opposition than this characteristically candid avowal, -twisted as it immediately was into an admission that -the writer’s views were contradicted by the facts of -palæontology. But, in fact, Mr. Darwin made no -such admission. What he says in effect is, not that -palæontological evidence is against him, but that it is -not distinctly in his favour; and, without attempting -to attenuate the fact, he accounts for it by the -scantiness and the imperfection of that evidence.</p> - -<p>What is the state of the case now, when, as we -have seen, the amount of our knowledge respecting -the mammalia of the Tertiary epoch is increased -fifty-fold, and in some directions even approaches -completeness?</p> - -<p>Simply this, that, if the doctrine of evolution had -not existed, palæontologists must have invented it, so -irresistibly is it forced upon the mind by the study of -the remains of the Tertiary mammalia which have -been brought to light since 1859.</p> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_323" id="Page_323">323</a></span></p> -<p>Among the fossils of Pikermi, Gaudry found the -successive stages by which the ancient civets passed -into the more modern hyænas; through the Tertiary -deposits of Western America, Marsh tracked the successive -forms by which the ancient stock of the horse -has passed into its present form; and innumerable less -complete indications of the mode of evolution of other -groups of the higher mammalia have been obtained. -In the remarkable memoir on the phosphorites of -Quercy, to which I have referred, M. Filhol describes -no fewer than seventeen varieties of the genus <i>Cynodictis</i>, -which fill up all the interval between the -viverine animals and the bear-like dog <i>Amphicyon</i>; -nor do I know any solid ground of objection to the -supposition that, in this <i>Cynodictis-Amphicyon</i> group, -we have the stock whence all the Viveridæ, Felidæ, -Hyænidæ, Canidæ, and perhaps the Procyonidæ and -Ursidæ, of the present fauna have been evolved. On -the contrary, there is a great deal to be said in favour.</p> - -<p>In the course of summing up his results, M. Filhol -observes:—</p> - -<p>“During the epoch of the phosphorites, great -changes took place in animal forms, and almost the -same types as those which now exist became defined -from one another.</p> - -<p>“Under the influence of natural conditions of -which we have no exact knowledge, though traces of -them are discoverable, species have been modified in -a thousand ways: races have arisen which, becoming -fixed, have thus produced a corresponding number of -secondary species.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_324" id="Page_324">324</a></span></p> - -<p>In 1859, language of which this is an unintentional -paraphrase, occurring in the “Origin of -Species,” was scouted as wild speculation; at present, -it is a sober statement of the conclusions to which an -acute and critically-minded investigator is led by -large and patient study of the facts of palæontology. -I venture to repeat what I have said before, that, so -far as the animal world is concerned, evolution is no -longer a speculation, but a statement of historical -fact. It takes its place alongside of those accepted -truths which must be reckoned with by philosophers -of all schools.</p> - -<p>Thus when, on the first day of October next, the -“Origin of Species” comes of age, the promise of its -youth will be amply fulfilled; and we shall be prepared -to congratulate the venerated author of the -book, not only that the greatness of his achievement -and its enduring influence upon the progress of knowledge -have won him a place beside our Harvey; but, -still more, that, like Harvey, he has lived long enough -to outlast detraction and opposition, and to see the -stone that the builders rejected become the head-stone -of the corner.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_325" id="Page_325">325</a></span></p> - -<h2>XIII.<br /><br /> - -THE CONNECTION OF THE BIOLOGICAL -SCIENCES WITH MEDICINE.</h2> - -<p><span class="smcap">The</span> great body of theoretical and practical knowledge -which has been accumulated by the labours of some -eighty generations, since the dawn of scientific thought -in Europe, has no collective English name to which -an objection may not be raised; and I use the term -“medicine” as that which is least likely to be misunderstood; -though, as every one knows, the name is -commonly applied, in a narrower sense, to one of the -chief divisions of the totality of medical science.</p> - -<p>Taken in this broad sense, “medicine” not merely -denotes a kind of knowledge, but it comprehends the -various applications of that knowledge to the alleviation -of the sufferings, the repair of the injuries, and -the conservation of the health, of living beings. In -fact, the practical aspect of medicine so far dominates -over every other, that the “Healing Art” is one of -its most widely-received synonyms. It is so difficult -to think of medicine otherwise than as something -which is necessarily connected with curative treatment, -that we are apt to forget that there must be,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_326" id="Page_326">326</a></span> -and is, such a thing as a pure science of medicine—a -“pathology” which has no more necessary subservience -to practical ends than has zoology or -botany.</p> - -<p>The logical connection between this purely scientific -doctrine of disease, or pathology, and ordinary biology, -is easily traced. Living matter is characterised by its -innate tendency to exhibit a definite series of the -morphological and physiological phenomena which -constitute organisation and life. Given a certain -range of conditions, and these phenomena remain -the same, within narrow limits, for each kind of -living thing. They furnish the normal and typical -character of the species, and, as such, they are the -subject-matter of ordinary biology.</p> - -<p>Outside the range of these conditions, the normal -course of the cycle of vital phenomena is disturbed; -abnormal structure makes its appearance, or the proper -character and mutual adjustment of the functions -cease to be preserved. The extent and the importance -of these deviations from the typical life may vary indefinitely. -They may have no noticeable influence on -the general well-being of the economy, or they may -favour it. On the other hand, they may be of such a -nature as to impede the activities of the organism, or -even to involve its destruction.</p> - -<p>In the first case, these perturbations are ranged -under the wide and somewhat vague category of -“variations;” in the second, they are called lesions, -states of poisoning, or diseases; and, as morbid states, -they lie within the province of pathology. No sharp<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_327" id="Page_327">327</a></span> -line of demarcation can be drawn between the two -classes of phenomena. No one can say where anatomical -variations end and tumours begin, nor where -modification of function, which may at first promote -health, passes into disease. All that can be said is, -that whatever change of structure or function is hurtful -belongs to pathology. Hence it is obvious that -pathology is a branch of biology; it is the morphology, -the physiology, the distribution, the ætiology of abnormal -life.</p> - -<p>However obvious this conclusion may be now, it -was nowise apparent in the infancy of medicine. For -it is a peculiarity of the physical sciences, that they -are independent in proportion as they are imperfect; -and it is only as they advance that the bonds which -really unite them all become apparent. Astronomy -had no manifest connection with terrestrial physics -before the publication of the “Principia;” that of -chemistry with physics is of still more modern revelation; -that of physics and chemistry with physiology, -has been stoutly denied within the recollection of most -of us, and perhaps still may be.</p> - -<p>Or, to take a case which affords a closer parallel -with that of medicine. Agriculture has been cultivated -from the earliest times, and, from a remote -antiquity, men have attained considerable practical -skill in the cultivation of the useful plants, and have -empirically established many scientific truths concerning -the conditions under which they flourish. But, it -is within the memory of many of us, that chemistry -on the one hand, and vegetable physiology on the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_328" id="Page_328">328</a></span> -other, attained a stage of development such that they -were able to furnish a sound basis for scientific agriculture. -Similarly, medicine took its rise in the -practical needs of mankind. At first, studied without -reference to any other branch of knowledge, it long -maintained, indeed still to some extent maintains, -that independence. Historically, its connection with -the biological sciences has been slowly established, -and the full extent and intimacy of that connection -are only now beginning to be apparent. I trust I -have not been mistaken in supposing that an attempt -to give a brief sketch of the steps by which a philosophical -necessity has become an historical reality, -may not be devoid of interest, possibly of instruction, -to the members of this great Congress, profoundly -interested as all are in the scientific development of -medicine.</p> - -<p>The history of medicine is more complete and -fuller than that of any other science, except, perhaps, -astronomy; and, if we follow back the long record as -far as clear evidence lights us, we find ourselves taken -to the early stages of the civilisation of Greece. The -oldest hospitals were the temples of Æsculapius; to -these Asclepeia, always erected on healthy sites, hard -by fresh springs and surrounded by shady groves, the -sick and the maimed resorted to seek the aid of the -god of health. Votive tablets or inscriptions recorded -the symptoms, no less than the gratitude, of those who -were healed; and, from these primitive clinical records, -the half-priestly, half-philosophic caste of the Asclepiads -compiled the data upon which the earliest<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_329" id="Page_329">329</a></span> -generalisations of medicine, as an inductive science, -were based.</p> - -<p>In this state, pathology, like all the inductive -sciences at their origin, was merely natural history; -it registered the phenomena of disease, classified them, -and ventured upon a prognosis, wherever the observation -of constant co-existences and sequences suggested -a rational expectation of the like recurrence under -similar circumstances.</p> - -<p>Further than this it hardly went. In fact, in the -then state of knowledge, and in the condition of philosophical -speculation at that time, neither the causes -of the morbid state, nor the <em>rationale</em> of treatment, -were likely to be sought for as we seek for them now. -The anger of a god was a sufficient reason for the -existence of a malady, and a dream ample warranty -for therapeutic measures; that a physical phenomenon -must needs have a physical cause was not the implied -or expressed axiom that it is to us moderns.</p> - -<p>The great man whose name is inseparately connected -with the foundation of medicine, Hippocrates, -certainly knew very little, indeed practically nothing, -of anatomy or physiology; and he would, probably, -have been perplexed, even to imagine the possibility -of a connection between the zoological studies of his -contemporary Democritus and medicine. Nevertheless, -in so far as he, and those who worked before and -after him, in the same spirit, ascertained, as matters -of experience, that a wound, or a luxation, or a fever, -presented such and such symptoms, and that the -return of the patient to health was facilitated by such<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_330" id="Page_330">330</a></span> -and such measures, they established laws of nature, -and began the construction of the science of pathology. -All true science begins with empiricism—though all -true science is such exactly, in so far as it strives to -pass out of the empirical stage into that of the deduction -of empirical from more general truths. Thus, it -is not wonderful, that the early physicians had little -or nothing to do with the development of biological -science; and, on the other hand, that the early biologists -did not much concern themselves with medicine. -There is nothing to show that the Asclepiads -took any prominent share in the work of founding -anatomy, physiology, zoology, and botany. Rather -do these seem to have sprung from the early philosophers, -who were essentially natural philosophers, -animated by the characteristically Greek thirst for -knowledge as such. Pythagoras, Alcmeon, Democritus, -Diogenes of Apollonia, are all credited with anatomical -and physiological investigations; and, though Aristotle -is said to have belonged to an Asclepiad family, and -not improbably owed his taste for anatomical and -zoological inquiries to the teachings of his father, -the physician Nicomachus, the “Historia Animalium,” -and the treatise “De Partibus Animalium,” are as free -from any allusion to medicine as if they had issued -from a modern biological laboratory.</p> - -<p>It may be added, that it is not easy to see in what -way it could have benefited a physician of Alexander’s -time to know all that Aristotle knew on these subjects. -His human anatomy was too rough to avail much in -diagnosis; his physiology was too erroneous to supply<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_331" id="Page_331">331</a></span> -data for pathological reasoning. But when the Alexandrian -school, with Erasistratus and Herophilus at -their head, turned to account the opportunities of -studying human structure, afforded to them by the -Ptolemies, the value of the large amount of accurate -knowledge thus obtained to the surgeon for his -operations, and to the physician for his diagnosis of -internal disorders, became obvious, and a connection -was established between anatomy and medicine, which -has ever become closer and closer. Since the revival -of learning, surgery, medical diagnosis, and anatomy -have gone hand in hand. Morgagni called his great -work, “De sedibus et causis morborum per anatomen -indagatis,” and not only showed the way to search out -the localities and the causes of disease by anatomy, -but himself travelled wonderfully far upon the road. -Bichat, discriminating the grosser constituents of the -organs and parts of the body, one from another, -pointed out the direction which modern research -must take; until, at length, histology, a science of -yesterday, as it seems to many of us, has carried the -work of Morgagni as far as the microscope can take -us, and has extended the realm of pathological anatomy -to the limits of the invisible world.</p> - -<p>Thanks to the intimate alliance of morphology -with medicine, the natural history of disease has, at -the present day, attained a high degree of perfection. -Accurate regional anatomy has rendered practicable -the exploration of the most hidden parts of the -organism, and the determination, during life, of morbid -changes in them; anatomical and histological post<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_332" id="Page_332">332</a></span>mortem -investigations have supplied physicians with -a clear basis upon which to rest the classification of -diseases, and with unerring tests of the accuracy or -inaccuracy of their diagnoses.</p> - -<p>If men could be satisfied with pure knowledge, the -extreme precision with which, in these days, a sufferer -may be told what is happening, and what is likely to -happen, even in the most recondite parts of his bodily -frame, should be as satisfactory to the patient as it is -to the scientific pathologist who gives him the information. -But I am afraid it is not; and even the -practising physician, while nowise underestimating -the regulative value of accurate diagnosis, must often -lament that so much of his knowledge rather prevents -him from doing wrong than helps him to do right.</p> - -<p>A scorner of physic once said that nature and disease -may be compared to two men fighting, the doctor -to a blind man with a club, who strikes into the <em lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">melée</em>, -sometimes hitting the disease, and sometimes hitting -nature. The matter is not mended if you suppose the -blind man’s hearing to be so acute that he can register -every stage of the struggle, and pretty clearly predict -how it will end. He had better not meddle at all, -until his eyes are opened—until he can see the exact -position of the antagonists, and make sure of the -effect of his blows. But that which it behoves the -physician to see, not, indeed, with his bodily eye, but -with clear, intellectual vision, is a process, and the -chain of causation involved in that process. Disease, -as we have seen, is a perturbation of the normal -activities of a living body, and it is, and must remain,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_333" id="Page_333">333</a></span> -unintelligible, so long as we are ignorant of the nature -of these normal activities. In other words, there could -be no real science of pathology until the science of -physiology had reached a degree of perfection unattained, -and indeed unattainable, until quite recent -times.</p> - -<p>So far as medicine is concerned, I am not sure -that physiology, such as it was down to the time of -Harvey, might as well not have existed. Nay, it -is perhaps no exaggeration to say that, within the -memory of living men, justly renowned practitioners -of medicine and surgery knew less physiology than is -now to be learned from the most elementary text-book; -and, beyond a few broad facts, regarded what they did -know as of extremely little practical importance. -Nor am I disposed to blame them for this conclusion; -physiology must be useless, or worse than useless, to -pathology, so long as its fundamental conceptions are -erroneous.</p> - -<p>Harvey is often said to be the founder of modern -physiology; and there can be no question that the -elucidations of the function of the heart, of the nature -of the pulse, and of the course of the blood, put forth -in the ever-memorable little essay, “<span lang="la" xml:lang="la">De motu cordis</span>,” -directly worked a revolution in men’s views of the -nature and of the concatenation of some of the most -important physiological processes among the higher -animals; while, indirectly, their influence was perhaps -even more remarkable.</p> - -<p>But, though Harvey made this signal and perennially -important contribution to the physiology of the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_334" id="Page_334">334</a></span> -moderns, his general conception of vital processes -was essentially identical with that of the ancients; -and, in the “Exercitationes de generatione,” and -notably in the singular chapter “De calido innato,” -he shows himself a true son of Galen and of Aristotle.</p> - -<p>For Harvey, the blood possesses powers superior -to those of the elements; it is the seat of a soul which -is not only vegetative, but also sensitive and motor. -The blood maintains and fashions all parts of the -body, “idque summâ cum providentiâ et intellectu in -finem certum agens, quasi ratiocinio quodam uteretur.”</p> - -<p>Here is the doctrine of the “pneuma,” the product -of the philosophical mould into which the animism of -primitive men ran in Greece, in full force. Nor did its -strength abate for long after Harvey’s time. The -same ingrained tendency of the human mind to suppose -that a process is explained when it is ascribed -to a power of which nothing is known except that it -is the hypothetical agent of the process, gave rise, in -the next century, to the animism of Stahl; and, later, -to the doctrine of a vital principle, that “asylum -ignorantiæ” of physiologists, which has so easily -accounted for everything and explained nothing, -down to our own times.</p> - -<p>Now the essence of modern, as contrasted with -ancient, physiological science appears to me to lie in -its antagonism to animistic hypotheses and animistic -phraseology. It offers physical explanations of vital -phenomena, or frankly confesses that it has none to -offer. And, so far as I know, the first person who -gave expression to this modern view of physiology,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_335" id="Page_335">335</a></span> -who was bold enough to enunciate the proposition -that vital phenomena, like all the other phenomena of -the physical world, are, in ultimate analysis, resolvable -into matter and motion, was René Descartes.</p> - -<p>The fifty-four years of life of this most original -and powerful thinker are widely overlapped, on both -sides, by the eighty of Harvey, who survived his -younger contemporary by seven years, and takes -pleasure in acknowledging the French philosopher’s -appreciation of his great discovery.</p> - -<p>In fact, Descartes accepted the doctrine of the -circulation as propounded by “Harvæus médecin -d’Angleterre,” and gave a full account of it in his first -work, the famous “Discours de la Méthode,” which was -published in 1637, only nine years after the exercitation -“De motu cordis;” and, though differing from -Harvey on some important points (in which it may be -noted, in passing, Descartes was wrong and Harvey -right), he always speaks of him with great respect. -And so important does the subject seem to Descartes, -that he returns to it in the “Traité des Passions,” and -in the “Traité de l’Homme.”</p> - -<p>It is easy to see that Harvey’s work must have -had a peculiar significance for the subtle thinker, to -whom we owe both the spiritualistic and the materialistic -philosophies of modern times. It was in the -very year of its publication, 1628, that Descartes -withdrew into that life of solitary investigation and -meditation of which his philosophy was the fruit. -And, as the course of his speculations led him to -establish an absolute distinction of nature between<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_336" id="Page_336">336</a></span> -the material and the mental worlds, he was logically -compelled to seek for the explanation of the phenomena -of the material world within itself; and having -allotted the realm of thought to the soul, to see nothing -but extension and motion in the rest of nature. -Descartes uses “thought” as the equivalent of our -modern term “consciousness.” Thought is the function -of the soul, and its only function. Our natural -heat and all the movements of the body, says he, do -not depend on the soul. Death does not take place -from any fault of the soul, but only because some of -the principal parts of the body become corrupted. -The body of a living man differs from that of a dead -man in the same way as a watch or other automaton -(that is to say, a machine which moves of itself) when -it is wound up and has, in itself, the physical principle -of the movements which the mechanism is adapted to -perform, differs from the same watch, or other machine, -when it is broken, and the physical principle of its -movement no longer exists. All the actions which -are common to us and the lower animals depend only -on the conformation of our organs, and the course -which the animal spirits take in the brain, the nerves, -and the muscles; in the same way as the movement -of a watch is produced by nothing but the force of its -spring and the figure of its wheels and other parts.</p> - -<p>Descartes’ “Treatise on Man” is a sketch of human -physiology, in which a bold attempt is made to explain -all the phenomena of life, except those of consciousness, -by physical reasonings. To a mind turned in -this direction, Harvey’s exposition of the heart and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_337" id="Page_337">337</a></span> -vessels as a hydraulic mechanism must have been -supremely welcome.</p> - -<p>Descartes was not a mere philosophical theorist, -but a hardworking dissector and experimenter, and he -held the strongest opinion respecting the practical -value of the new conception which he was introducing. -He speaks of the importance of preserving health, and -of the dependence of the mind on the body being so -close that, perhaps, the only way of making men -wiser and better than they are, is to be sought in -medical science. “It is true,” says he, “that as medicine -is now practised, it contains little that is very -useful; but without any desire to depreciate, I am -sure that there is no one, even among professional -men, who will not declare that all we know is very -little as compared with that which remains to be -known; and that we might escape an infinity of -diseases of the mind, no less than of the body, and -even perhaps from the weakness of old age, if we had -sufficient knowledge of their causes, and of all the -remedies with which nature has provided us.”<a name="FNanchor_96_96" id="FNanchor_96_96"></a><a href="#Footnote_96_96" class="fnanchor">96</a> So -strongly impressed was Descartes with this, that he -resolved to spend the rest of his life in trying to -acquire such a knowledge of nature as would lead to -the construction of a better medical doctrine.<a name="FNanchor_97_97" id="FNanchor_97_97"></a><a href="#Footnote_97_97" class="fnanchor">97</a> The -anti-Cartesians found material for cheap ridicule in -these aspirations of the philosopher; and it is almost -needless to say that, in the thirteen years which -elapsed between the publication of the “Discours” and -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_338" id="Page_338">338</a></span>the death of Descartes, he did not contribute much to -their realisation. But, for the next century, all progress -in physiology took place along the lines which -Descartes laid down.</p> - -<p>The greatest physiological and pathological work -of the seventeenth century, Borelli’s treatise “De -Motu Animalium,” is, to all intents and purposes, a -development of Descartes’ fundamental conception; -and the same may be said of the physiology and -pathology of Boerhaave, whose authority dominated -in the medical world of the first half of the eighteenth -century.</p> - -<p>With the origin of modern chemistry, and of -electrical science, in the latter half of the eighteenth -century, aids in the analysis of the phenomena of life, -of which Descartes could not have dreamed, were -offered to the physiologist. And the greater part of -the gigantic progress which has been made in the -present century is a justification of the prevision of -Descartes. For it consists, essentially, in a more and -more complete resolution of the grosser organs of the -living body into physico-chemical mechanisms.</p> - -<p>“I shall try to explain our whole bodily machinery -in such a way, that it will be no more necessary for -us to suppose that the soul produces such movements -as are not voluntary, than it is to think that there is -in a clock a soul which causes it to show the hours.”<a name="FNanchor_98_98" id="FNanchor_98_98"></a><a href="#Footnote_98_98" class="fnanchor">98</a> -These words of Descartes might be appropriately taken -as a motto by the author of any modern treatise on -physiology.</p> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_339" id="Page_339">339</a></span></p> -<p>But though, as I think, there is no doubt that -Descartes was the first to propound the fundamental -conception of the living body as a physical mechanism, -which is the distinctive feature of modern, as contrasted -with ancient physiology, he was misled by the -natural temptation to carry out, in all its details, a -parallel between the machines with which he was -familiar, such as clocks and pieces of hydraulic -apparatus, and the living machine. In all such -machines there is a central source of power, and the -parts of the machine are merely passive distributors of -that power. The Cartesian school conceived of the -living body as a machine of this kind; and herein -they might have learned from Galen, who, whatever -ill use he may have made of the doctrine of -“natural faculties,” nevertheless had the great merit -of perceiving that local forces play a great part in -physiology.</p> - -<p>The same truth was recognised by Glisson, but it -was first prominently brought forward in the Hallerian -doctrine of the “vis insita” of muscles. If muscle -can contract without nerve, there is an end of the -Cartesian mechanical explanation of its contraction by -the influx of animal spirits.</p> - -<p>The discoveries of Trembley tended in the same -direction. In the freshwater <i>Hydra</i>, no trace was to -be found of that complicated machinery upon which -the performance of the functions in the higher -animals was supposed to depend. And yet the hydra -moved, fed, grew, multiplied, and its fragments exhibited -all the powers of the whole. And, finally,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_340" id="Page_340">340</a></span> -the work of Caspar F. Wolff,<a name="FNanchor_99_99" id="FNanchor_99_99"></a><a href="#Footnote_99_99" class="fnanchor">99</a> by demonstrating the -fact that the growth and development of both plants -and animals take place antecedently to the existence -of their grosser organs, and are, in fact, the causes -and not the consequences of organisation (as then -understood), sapped the foundations of the Cartesian -physiology as a complete expression of vital phenomena.</p> - -<p>For Wolff, the physical basis of life is a fluid, -possessed of a “vis essentialis” and a “solidescibilitas,” -in virtue of which it gives rise to organisation; -and, as he points out, this conclusion strikes at the -root of the whole iatro-mechanical system.</p> - -<p>In this country, the great authority of John -Hunter exerted a similar influence; though it must -be admitted that the too sibylline utterances which -are the outcome of Hunter’s struggles to define his -conceptions are often susceptible of more than one -interpretation. Nevertheless, on some points Hunter -is clear enough. For example, he is of opinion that -“Spirit is only a property of matter” (“Introduction -to Natural History,” p. 6), he is prepared to renounce -animism (<i>l.c.</i> p. 8), and his conception of life is so -completely physical that he thinks of it as something -which can exist in a state of combination in the food. -“The aliment we take in has in it, in a fixed state, -the real life; and this does not become active until it -has got into the lungs; for there it is freed from its -prison” (“Observations on Physiology,” p. 113). -He also thinks that “It is more in accord with the -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_341" id="Page_341">341</a></span>general principles of the animal machine to suppose -that none of its effects are produced from any -mechanical principle whatever; and that every effect -is produced from an action in the part; which action -is produced by a stimulus upon the part which acts, -or upon some other part with which this part -sympathises so as to take up the whole action” -(<i>l.c.</i> p. 152).</p> - -<p>And Hunter is as clear as Wolff, with whose work -he was probably unacquainted, that “whatever life is, -it most certainly does not depend upon structure or -organisation” (<i>l.c.</i> p. 114).</p> - -<p>Of course it is impossible that Hunter could have -intended to deny the existence of purely mechanical -operations in the animal body. But while, with -Borelli and Boerhaave, he looked upon absorption, -nutrition, and secretion as operations effected by -means of the small vessels, he differed from the -mechanical physiologists, who regarded these operations -as the result of the mechanical properties of the -small vessels, such as the size, form, and disposition -of their canals and apertures. Hunter, on the contrary, -considers them to be the effect of properties of -these vessels which are not mechanical but vital. -“The vessels,” says he, “have more of the polypus in -them than any other part of the body,” and he talks -of the “living and sensitive principles of the arteries,” -and even of the “dispositions or feelings of the arteries.” -“When the blood is good and genuine the sensations -of the arteries, or the dispositions for sensation, are -agreeable.... It is then they dispose of the blood<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_342" id="Page_342">342</a></span> -to the best advantage, increasing the growth of the -whole, supplying any losses, keeping up a due succession, -etc.” (<i>l.c.</i> p. 133).</p> - -<p>If we follow Hunter’s conceptions to their logical -issue, the life of one of the higher animals is essentially -the sum of the lives of all the vessels, each of which -is a sort of physiological unit, answering to a polype; -and, as health is the result of the normal “action of -the vessels,” so is disease an effect of their abnormal -action. Hunter thus stands in thought, as in time, -midway between Borelli on the one hand, and Bichat -on the other.</p> - -<p>The acute founder of general anatomy, in fact, -outdoes Hunter in his desire to exclude physical -reasonings from the realm of life. Except in the -interpretation of the action of the sense organs, he -will not allow physics to have anything to do with -physiology.</p> - -<p>“To apply the physical sciences to physiology is -to explain the phenomena of living bodies by the laws -of inert bodies. Now this is a false principle, hence -all its consequences are marked with the same stamp. -Let us leave to chemistry its affinity; to physics, its -elasticity and its gravity. Let us invoke for physiology -only sensibility and contractility.”<a name="FNanchor_100_100" id="FNanchor_100_100"></a><a href="#Footnote_100_100" class="fnanchor">100</a></p> - -<p>Of all the unfortunate dicta of men of eminent -ability this seems one of the most unhappy, when we -think of what the application of the methods and -the data of physics and chemistry has done towards -bringing physiology into its present state. It is not -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_343" id="Page_343">343</a></span>too much to say that one half of a modern text-book -of physiology consists of applied physics and chemistry; -and that it is exactly in the exploration of the phenomena -of sensibility and contractility that physics and -chemistry have exerted the most potent influence.</p> - -<p>Nevertheless, Bichat rendered a solid service to -physiological progress by insisting upon the fact that -what we call life, in one of the higher animals, is not -an indivisible unitary archæus dominating, from its -central seat, the parts of the organism, but a compound -result of the synthesis of the separate lives of -those parts.</p> - -<p>“All animals,” says he, “are assemblages of different -organs, each of which performs its function and -concurs, after its fashion, in the preservation of the -whole. They are so many special machines in the -general machine which constitutes the individual. -But each of these special machines is itself compounded -of many tissues of very different natures, -which in truth constitute the elements of those organs” -(<i>l.c.</i> lxxix.) “The conception of a proper vitality is -applicable only to these simple tissues, and not to the -organs themselves” (<i>l.c.</i> lxxxiv.)</p> - -<p>And Bichat proceeds to make the obvious application -of this doctrine of synthetic life, if I may so call -it, to pathology. Since diseases are only alterations -of vital properties, and the properties of each tissue -are distinct from those of the rest, it is evident that -the diseases of each tissue must be different from those -of the rest. Therefore, in any organ composed of -different tissues, one may be diseased and the other<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_344" id="Page_344">344</a></span> -remain healthy; and this is what happens in most -cases (<i>l.c.</i> lxxxv.)</p> - -<p>In a spirit of true prophecy, Bichat says, “We have -arrived at an epoch, in which pathological anatomy -should start afresh.” For, as the analysis of the organs -had led him to the tissues, as the physiological units -of the organism; so, in a succeeding generation, the -analysis of the tissues led to the cell as the physiological -element of the tissues. The contemporaneous -study of development brought out the same result; -and the zoologists and botanists, exploring the simplest -and the lowest forms of animated beings, confirmed -the great induction of the cell theory. Thus -the apparently opposed views, which have been -battling with one another ever since the middle of the -last century, have proved to be each half the truth.</p> - -<p>The proposition of Descartes that the body of a -living man is a machine, the actions of which are -explicable by the known laws of matter and motion, -is unquestionably largely true. But it is also true, -that the living body is a synthesis of innumerable -physiological elements, each of which may nearly be -described, in Wolff’s words, as a fluid possessed of -a “vis essentialis,” and a “solidescibilitas”; or, in -modern phrase, as protoplasm susceptible of structural -metamorphosis and functional metabolism: and that -the only machinery, in the precise sense in which the -Cartesian school understood mechanism, is, that which -co-ordinates and regulates these physiological units -into an organic whole.</p> - -<p>In fact, the body is a machine of the nature of an<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_345" id="Page_345">345</a></span> -army, not of that of a watch or of a hydraulic apparatus. -Of this army each cell is a soldier, an organ a brigade, -the central nervous system headquarters and field -telegraph, the alimentary and circulatory system the -commissariat. Losses are made good by recruits -born in camp, and the life of the individual is a -campaign, conducted successfully for a number of -years, but with certain defeat in the long run.</p> - -<p>The efficacy of an army, at any given moment, -depends on the health of the individual soldier, and -on the perfection of the machinery by which he is led -and brought into action at the proper time; and, -therefore, if the analogy holds good, there can be -only two kinds of diseases, the one dependent on -abnormal states of the physiological units, the other -on perturbations of their co-ordinating and alimentative -machinery.</p> - -<p>Hence, the establishment of the cell theory, in -normal biology, was swiftly followed by a “cellular -pathology,” as its logical counterpart. I need not -remind you how great an instrument of investigation -this doctrine has proved in the hands of the man of -genius to whom its development is due, and who -would probably be the last to forget that abnormal -conditions of the co-ordinative and distributive -machinery of the body are no less important factors -of disease.</p> - -<p>Henceforward, as it appears to me, the connection -of medicine with the biological sciences is clearly -defined. Pure pathology is that branch of biology -which defines the particular perturbation of cell-life,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_346" id="Page_346">346</a></span> -or of the co-ordinating machinery, or of both, on -which the phenomena of disease depend.</p> - -<p>Those who are conversant with the present state -of biology will hardly hesitate to admit that the conception -of the life of one of the higher animals as the -summation of the lives of a cell aggregate, brought -into harmonious action by a co-ordinative machinery -formed by some of these cells, constitutes a permanent -acquisition of physiological science. But the last -form of the battle between the animistic and the -physical views of life is seen in the contention whether -the physical analysis of vital phenomena can be carried -beyond this point or not.</p> - -<p>There are some to whom living protoplasm is a -substance, even such as Harvey conceived the blood -to be, “summâ cum providentiâ et intellectu in finem -certum agens, quasi ratiocinio quodam;” and who -look with as little favour as Bichat did, upon any -attempt to apply the principles and the methods of -physics and chemistry to the investigation of the vital -processes of growth, metabolism, and contractility. -They stand upon the ancient ways; only, in accordance -with that progress towards democracy, which a -great political writer has declared to be the fatal -characteristic of modern times, they substitute a -republic formed by a few billion of “animulæ” for -the monarchy of the all-pervading “anima.”</p> - -<p>Others, on the contrary, supported by a robust -faith in the universal applicability of the principles -laid down by Descartes, and seeing that the actions -called “vital” are, so far as we have any means of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_347" id="Page_347">347</a></span> -knowing, nothing but changes of place of particles of -matter, look to molecular physics to achieve the -analysis of the living protoplasm itself into a molecular -mechanism. If there is any truth in the -received doctrines of physics, that contrast between -living and inert matter, on which Bichat lays so much -stress, does not exist. In nature, nothing is at rest, -nothing is amorphous; the simplest particle of that -which men in their blindness are pleased to call -“brute matter” is a vast aggregate of molecular -mechanisms performing complicated movements of -immense rapidity, and sensitively adjusting themselves -to every change in the surrounding world. Living -matter differs from other matter in degree and not in -kind; the microcosm repeats the macrocosm; and -one chain of causation connects the nebulous original -of suns and planetary systems with the protoplasmic -foundation of life and organisation.</p> - -<p>From this point of view, pathology is the analogue -of the theory of perturbations in astronomy; and -therapeutics resolves itself into the discovery of the -means by which a system of forces competent to -eliminate any given perturbation may be introduced -into the economy. And, as pathology bases itself -upon normal physiology, so therapeutics rests upon -pharmacology; which is, strictly speaking, a part of -the great biological topic of the influence of conditions -on the living organism, and has no scientific foundation -apart from physiology.</p> - -<p>It appears to me that there is no more hopeful -indication of the progress of medicine towards the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_348" id="Page_348">348</a></span> -ideal of Descartes than is to be derived from a comparison -of the state of pharmacology, at the present -day, with that which existed forty years ago. If we -consider the knowledge positively acquired, in this -short time, of the <em>modus operandi</em> of urari, of atropia, -of physostigmin, of veratria, of casca, of strychnia, of -bromide of potassium, of phosphorus, there can surely -be no ground for doubting that, sooner or later, the -pharmacologist will supply the physician with the -means of affecting, in any desired sense, the functions -of any physiological element of the body. It will, in -short, become possible to introduce into the economy -a molecular mechanism which, like a very cunningly-contrived -torpedo, shall find its way to some particular -group of living elements, and cause an explosion -among them, leaving the rest untouched.</p> - -<p>The search for the explanation of diseased states -in modified cell-life; the discovery of the important -part played by parasitic organisms in the ætiology of -disease; the elucidation of the action of medicaments -by the methods and the data of experimental physiology; -appear to me to be the greatest steps which -have ever been made towards the establishment of -medicine on a scientific basis. I need hardly say they -could not have been made except for the advance of -normal biology.</p> - -<p>There can be no question, then, as to the nature or -the value of the connection between medicine and the -biological sciences. There can be no doubt that the -future of pathology and of therapeutics, and, therefore, -that of practical medicine, depends upon the extent<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_349" id="Page_349">349</a></span> -to which those who occupy themselves with these -subjects are trained in the methods and impregnated -with the fundamental truths of biology.</p> - -<p>And, in conclusion, I venture to suggest that the -collective sagacity of this Congress could occupy itself -with no more important question than with this: How -is medical education to be arranged, so that, without -entangling the student in those details of the systematist -which are valueless to him, he may be enabled -to obtain a firm grasp of the great truths respecting -animal and vegetable life, without which, notwithstanding -all the progress of scientific medicine, he will -still find himself an empiric?</p> - -<hr /> -<h2>FOOTNOTES:</h2> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_1_1" id="Footnote_1_1"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_1"><span class="label">1</span></a> See <i>Joseph Priestley</i>, <a href="#Page_94">p. 94</a>, <i>infra</i>.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_2_2" id="Footnote_2_2"></a><a href="#FNanchor_2_2"><span class="label">2</span></a> The advocacy of the introduction of physical science into general -education by George Combe and others commenced a good deal -earlier; but the movement had acquired hardly any practical force -before the time to which I refer.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_3_3" id="Footnote_3_3"></a><a href="#FNanchor_3_3"><span class="label">3</span></a> <cite>Essays in Criticism</cite>, p. 37.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_4_4" id="Footnote_4_4"></a><a href="#FNanchor_4_4"><span class="label">4</span></a> <span lang="la" xml:lang="la">“Quamvis enim melius sit bene facere quam nosse, prius tamen -est nosse quam facere.”—“Karoli Magni Regis Constitutio de Scholis -per singula Episcopia et Monasteria instituendis,” addressed to the -Abbot of Fulda. Baluzius, “Capitularia Regum Francorum,”</span> T. i., -p. 202.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_5_5" id="Footnote_5_5"></a><a href="#FNanchor_5_5"><span class="label">5</span></a> Inaugural Address delivered to the University of St. Andrew -February 1, 1867, by J. S. Mill, Rector of the University (pp. 32, 33).</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_6_6" id="Footnote_6_6"></a><a href="#FNanchor_6_6"><span class="label">6</span></a> “Suggestions for Academical Organisation, with Especial Reference -to Oxford.” By the Rector of Lincoln.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_7_7" id="Footnote_7_7"></a><a href="#FNanchor_7_7"><span class="label">7</span></a> Goethe, <cite lang="de" xml:lang="de">Zahme Xenien, Vierte Abtheilung</cite>. I should be glad to -take credit for the close and vigorous English version; but it is my -wife’s, and not mine.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_8_8" id="Footnote_8_8"></a><a href="#FNanchor_8_8"><span class="label">8</span></a> See the “Programme” for 1878, issued by the Society of Arts, -p. 14.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_9_9" id="Footnote_9_9"></a><a href="#FNanchor_9_9"><span class="label">9</span></a> It is perhaps advisable to remark that the important question of -the professional education of managers of industrial works is not -touched in the foregoing remarks.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_10_10" id="Footnote_10_10"></a><a href="#FNanchor_10_10"><span class="label">10</span></a> “Quasi cursores, vitaï lampada tradunt.”—<span class="smcap">Lucr.</span> <cite lang="la" xml:lang="la">De Rerum -Nat.</cite> ii. 78.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_11_11" id="Footnote_11_11"></a><a href="#FNanchor_11_11"><span class="label">11</span></a> “Life and Correspondence of Dr. Priestley,” by J. T. Rutt. Vol. -i. p. 50.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_12_12" id="Footnote_12_12"></a><a href="#FNanchor_12_12"><span class="label">12</span></a> “Autobiography,” §§ 100, 101.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_13_13" id="Footnote_13_13"></a><a href="#FNanchor_13_13"><span class="label">13</span></a> See “The Life of Mary Anne Schimmelpenninck.” Mrs. -Schimmelpenninck (<em lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">née</em> Galton) remembered Priestley very well, and -her description of him is worth quotation:—“A man of admirable -simplicity, gentleness and kindness of heart, united with great acuteness -of intellect. I can never forget the impression produced on me -by the serene expression of his countenance. He, indeed, seemed -present with God by recollection, and with man by cheerfulness. I -remember that, in the assembly of these distinguished men, amongst -whom Mr. Boulton, by his noble manner, his fine countenance (which -much resembled that of Louis XIV.), and princely munificence, stood -pre-eminently as the great Mecænas; even as a child, I used to feel, -when Dr. Priestley entered after him, that the glory of the one was -terrestrial, that of the other celestial; and utterly far as I am removed -from a belief in the sufficiency of Dr. Priestley’s theological -creed, I cannot but here record this evidence of the eternal power -of any portion of the truth held in its vitality.”</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_14_14" id="Footnote_14_14"></a><a href="#FNanchor_14_14"><span class="label">14</span></a> Even Mrs. Priestley, who might be forgiven for regarding the -destroyers of her household gods with some asperity, contents herself, in -writing to Mrs. Barbauld, with the sarcasm that the Birmingham people -“will scarcely find so many respectable characters, a second time, to -make a bonfire of.”</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_15_15" id="Footnote_15_15"></a><a href="#FNanchor_15_15"><span class="label">15</span></a> “Experiments and Observations on Different Kinds of Air,” vol. -ii. p. 31.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_16_16" id="Footnote_16_16"></a><a href="#FNanchor_16_16"><span class="label">16</span></a> <i>Ibid.</i> pp. 34, 35.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_17_17" id="Footnote_17_17"></a><a href="#FNanchor_17_17"><span class="label">17</span></a> “Experiments and Observations on Different Kinds of Air,” vol. -ii. p. 40.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_18_18" id="Footnote_18_18"></a><a href="#FNanchor_18_18"><span class="label">18</span></a> <i>Ibid.</i> p. 48.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_19_19" id="Footnote_19_19"></a><a href="#FNanchor_19_19"><span class="label">19</span></a> <i>Ibid.</i> p. 55.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_20_20" id="Footnote_20_20"></a><a href="#FNanchor_20_20"><span class="label">20</span></a> “Experiments and Observations on Different Kinds of Air,” vol. -ii. p. 60. The italics are Priestley’s own.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_21_21" id="Footnote_21_21"></a><a href="#FNanchor_21_21"><span class="label">21</span></a> “In all the newspapers and most of the periodical publications I -was represented as an unbeliever in Revelation, and no better than an -atheist.”—“Autobiography,” Rutt. vol. i. p. 124. “On the walls of -houses, etc., and especially where I usually went, were to be seen, in -large characters, ‘<span class="smcap">Madan for ever</span>; <span class="smcap">Damn Priestley</span>; <span class="smcap">no Presbyterianism</span>; -<span class="smcap">Damn the Presbyterians</span>,’ etc. etc.; and, at one time, I -was followed by a number of boys, who left their play, repeating what -they had seen on the walls, and shouting out, ‘<em>Damn Priestley; damn -him, damn him, for ever, for ever</em>,’ etc. etc. This was no doubt a lesson -which they had been taught by their parents, and what they, I fear, -had learned from their superiors.”—“Appeal to the Public on the -Subject of the Riots at Birmingham.”</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_22_22" id="Footnote_22_22"></a><a href="#FNanchor_22_22"><span class="label">22</span></a> First Series. “On Some of the Peculiarities of the Christian -Religion.” Essay I. Revelation of a Future State.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_23_23" id="Footnote_23_23"></a><a href="#FNanchor_23_23"><span class="label">23</span></a> Not only is Priestley at one with Bishop Courtenay in this -matter, but with Hartley and Bonnet, both of them stout champions -of Christianity. Moreover, Archbishop Whately’s essay is little better -than an expansion of the first paragraph of Hume’s famous essay on -the Immortality of the Soul:—“By the mere light of reason it seems -difficult to prove the immortality of the soul; the arguments for it -are commonly derived either from metaphysical topics, or moral, or -physical. But it is in reality the Gospel, and the Gospel alone, that -has brought <em>life and immortality to light</em>.” It is impossible to imagine -that a man of Whately’s tastes and acquirements had not read Hume -or Hartley, though he refers to neither.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_24_24" id="Footnote_24_24"></a><a href="#FNanchor_24_24"><span class="label">24</span></a> “Essay on the First Principles of Government.” Second edition, -1771, p. 13.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_25_25" id="Footnote_25_25"></a><a href="#FNanchor_25_25"><span class="label">25</span></a> “Utility of Establishments,” in “Essay on First Principles of -Government,” p. 198, 1771.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_26_26" id="Footnote_26_26"></a><a href="#FNanchor_26_26"><span class="label">26</span></a> In 1732 Doddridge was cited for teaching without the Bishop’s -leave, at Northampton.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_27_27" id="Footnote_27_27"></a><a href="#FNanchor_27_27"><span class="label">27</span></a> The recent proceedings of the House of Commons throw a doubt, -which it is to be hoped may speedily be removed, on the accuracy of -this statement. (September 1881.)</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_28_28" id="Footnote_28_28"></a><a href="#FNanchor_28_28"><span class="label">28</span></a> “Discours sur les révolutions de la surface du globe,” <cite lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">Recherches -sur les ossemens fossiles</cite>, Ed. iv. t. i. p. 185.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_29_29" id="Footnote_29_29"></a><a href="#FNanchor_29_29"><span class="label">29</span></a> “On the Eclipses of Agathocles, Thales, and Xerxes,” <cite>Philosophical -Transactions</cite>, vol. cxliii.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_30_30" id="Footnote_30_30"></a><a href="#FNanchor_30_30"><span class="label">30</span></a> There is every reason to believe that living plants, like living -animals, always respire, and, in respiring, absorb oxygen and give off -carbonic acid; but, that in green plants exposed to daylight or to the -electric light, the quantity of oxygen evolved in consequence of the -decomposition of carbonic acid by a special apparatus which green -plants possess exceeds that absorbed in the concurrent respiratory -process.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_31_31" id="Footnote_31_31"></a><a href="#FNanchor_31_31"><span class="label">31</span></a> Darwin, “Insectivorous Plants,” p. 289.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_32_32" id="Footnote_32_32"></a><a href="#FNanchor_32_32"><span class="label">32</span></a> I purposely assume that the air with which the bean is supplied -in the case stated contains no ammoniacal salts.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_33_33" id="Footnote_33_33"></a><a href="#FNanchor_33_33"><span class="label">33</span></a> The recent researches of Pringsheim have raised a host of questions -as to the exact share taken by chlorophyll in the chemical operations -which are effected by the green parts of plants. It may be that -the chlorophyll is only a constant concomitant of the actual deoxidising -apparatus.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_34_34" id="Footnote_34_34"></a><a href="#FNanchor_34_34"><span class="label">34</span></a> “Researches in the Life-history of a Cercomonad: a Lesson in -Biogenesis;” and “Further Researches in the Life-history of the -Monads.”—“Monthly Microscopical Journal,” 1873.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_35_35" id="Footnote_35_35"></a><a href="#FNanchor_35_35"><span class="label">35</span></a> Excellently described by Stein, almost all of whose statements I -have verified.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_36_36" id="Footnote_36_36"></a><a href="#FNanchor_36_36"><span class="label">36</span></a> <span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">“Histoire des Sciences Naturelles,”</span> i. p. 152.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_37_37" id="Footnote_37_37"></a><a href="#FNanchor_37_37"><span class="label">37</span></a> The text I have followed is that given by Aubert and Wimmer, -<span lang="de" xml:lang="de">“Aristoteles Thierkunde; kritisch berichtigter Text mit deutschen -Uebersetzung;”</span> but I have tried here and there to bring the English -version rather closer to the original than the German translation, excellent -as it is, seems to me to be.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_38_38" id="Footnote_38_38"></a><a href="#FNanchor_38_38"><span class="label">38</span></a> In modern works on Veterinary Anatomy the lungs are sometimes -described as two lobes of a single organ.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_39_39" id="Footnote_39_39"></a><a href="#FNanchor_39_39"><span class="label">39</span></a> <span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">“Histoire des Sciences Naturelles.”</span>—t. i. p. 130.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_40_40" id="Footnote_40_40"></a><a href="#FNanchor_40_40"><span class="label">40</span></a> “Aristotle, a Chapter from the History of Science.”</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_41_41" id="Footnote_41_41"></a><a href="#FNanchor_41_41"><span class="label">41</span></a> I quote, here and always, Cousin’s edition of the works of -Descartes, as most convenient for reference. It is entitled <span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">“Œuvres -complètes de Descartes,” publiées par Victor Cousin. 1824.</span></p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_42_42" id="Footnote_42_42"></a><a href="#FNanchor_42_42"><span class="label">42</span></a> <span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">“Les Passions de l’Âme,”</span> Article xxxiii.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_43_43" id="Footnote_43_43"></a><a href="#FNanchor_43_43"><span class="label">43</span></a> <span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">“Recherches physiologiques sur la Vie et la Mort.” Par Xav. -Bichat. Art. Sixième.</span></p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_44_44" id="Footnote_44_44"></a><a href="#FNanchor_44_44"><span class="label">44</span></a> Locke (<cite>Human Understanding</cite>, Book II., chap. viii. 37) uses Descartes’ -illustration for the same purpose, and warns us that “most of -the ideas of sensation are no more the likeness of something existing -without us than the names that stand for them are the likeness of our -ideas, which yet, upon hearing, they are apt to excite in us,” a declaration -which paved the way for Berkeley.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_45_45" id="Footnote_45_45"></a><a href="#FNanchor_45_45"><span class="label">45</span></a> <span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">“Passions de l’Âme,”</span> Art. xxxvi.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_46_46" id="Footnote_46_46"></a><a href="#FNanchor_46_46"><span class="label">46</span></a> <span lang="la" xml:lang="la">“Quamcumque Bruti actionem, velut automati mechanici motum -artificialem, in eo consistere quod se primò sensibile aliquod spiritus -animales afficiens, eosque introrsum convertens, <i>sensionem</i> excitat, à -qua mox iidem spiritus, velut undulatione reflexâ denuo retrorsum -commoti atque pro concinno ipsius fabricæ organorum, et partium -ordine, in certos nervos musculosque determinati, respectivos <i>membrorum -motus</i> perficiunt.”</span>—<span class="smcap">Willis</span>: “De Animâ Brutorum,” p. 5, ed. -1763.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_47_47" id="Footnote_47_47"></a><a href="#FNanchor_47_47"><span class="label">47</span></a> <span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">“Les Passions de l’Âme,”</span> xlii.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_48_48" id="Footnote_48_48"></a><a href="#FNanchor_48_48"><span class="label">48</span></a> Haller, <span lang="la" xml:lang="la">“Primæ Lineæ,”</span> ed. iii. <span lang="la" xml:lang="la">“Sensus Interni,”</span> dlviii.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_49_49" id="Footnote_49_49"></a><a href="#FNanchor_49_49"><span class="label">49</span></a> <span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">“Réponse de M. Descartes à M. Morus.” 1649. “Œuvres,” -tome x. p. 204. “Mais le plus grand de tous les préjugés que nous -ayons retenus de notre enfance, est celui de croire que les bêtes -pensent,”</span> etc.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_50_50" id="Footnote_50_50"></a><a href="#FNanchor_50_50"><span class="label">50</span></a> Malebranche states the view taken by orthodox Cartesians in -1689 very forcibly: <span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">“Ainsi dans les chiens, les chats, et les autres -animaux, il n’y a ny intelligence, ny âme spirituelle comme on l’entend -ordinairement. Ils mangent sans plaisir; ils crient sans douleur; ils -croissent sans le sçavoir; ils ne désirent rien; ils ne connoissent rien; -et s’ils agissent avec adresse et d’une manière qui marque l’intelligence, -c’est que Dieu les faisant pour les conserver, il a conformé leurs corps -de telle manière, qu’ils évitent organiquement, sans le sçavoir, tout ce -qui peut les détruire et qu’ils semblent craindre.” (“Feuillet de -Conches. Méditations Métaphysiques et Correspondance de N. Malebranche. -Neuvième Méditation.”</span> 1841.)</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_51_51" id="Footnote_51_51"></a><a href="#FNanchor_51_51"><span class="label">51</span></a> See the remarkable essay of Göltz, <span lang="de" xml:lang="de">“Beiträge zur Lehre von den -Functionen der Nervencentren des Frosches,”</span> published in 1869. I -have repeated Göltz’s experiments, and obtained the same results.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_52_52" id="Footnote_52_52"></a><a href="#FNanchor_52_52"><span class="label">52</span></a> “De l’Automatisme de la Mémoire et du Souvenir, dans le -Somnambulisme pathologique.” Par le Dr. E. Mesnet, Médecin de -l’Hôpital Saint-Antoine. <span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">“L’Union Médicale,”</span> Juillet 21 et 23, 1874. -My attention was first called to a summary of this remarkable case, -which appeared in the <span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">“Journal des Débats”</span> for the 7th of August -1874, by my friend General Strachey, F.R.S.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_53_53" id="Footnote_53_53"></a><a href="#FNanchor_53_53"><span class="label">53</span></a> Those who have had occasion to become acquainted with the -phenomena of somnambulism and of mesmerism, will be struck with -the close parallel which they present to the proceedings of F. in his -abnormal state. But the great value of Dr. Mesnet’s observations lies -in the fact that the abnormal condition is traceable to a definite injury -to the brain, and that the circumstances are such as to keep us clear of -the cloud of voluntary and involuntary fictions in which the truth is -too often smothered in such cases. In the unfortunate subjects of -such abnormal conditions of the brain, the disturbance of the sensory -and intellectual faculties is not unfrequently accompanied by a perturbation -of the moral nature, which may manifest itself in a most -astonishing love of lying for its own sake. And, in this respect, also, -F.’s case is singularly instructive, for though, in his normal state, he is -a perfectly honest man, in his abnormal condition he is an inveterate -thief, stealing and hiding away whatever he can lay hands on, with -much dexterity, and with an absurd indifference as to whether the -property is his own or not. Hoffman’s terrible conception of the -“Doppelt-gänger” is realised by men in this state—who live two lives, -in the one of which they may be guilty of the most criminal acts, -while, in the other, they are eminently virtuous and respectable. -Neither life knows anything of the other. Dr. Mesnet states that he -has watched a man in his abnormal state elaborately prepare to hang -himself, and has let him go on until asphyxia set in, when he cut him -down. But on passing into the normal state the would-be suicide -was wholly ignorant of what had happened. The problem of responsibility -is here as complicated as that of the prince-bishop, who swore -as a prince and not as a bishop. “But, highness, if the prince is -damned, what will become of the bishop?” said the peasant.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_54_54" id="Footnote_54_54"></a><a href="#FNanchor_54_54"><span class="label">54</span></a> “Lay Sermons, Essays and Reviews,” p. 355.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_55_55" id="Footnote_55_55"></a><a href="#FNanchor_55_55"><span class="label">55</span></a> “Essai de Psychologie,” chap. xxvii.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_56_56" id="Footnote_56_56"></a><a href="#FNanchor_56_56"><span class="label">56</span></a> In justice to Reid, however, it should be stated that the chapters -on sensation in the “Essays on the Intellectual Powers” (1785) exhibit -a great improvement. He is, in fact, in advance of his commentator, as -the note to Essay II. chap. ii. p. 248 of Hamilton’s edition shows.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_57_57" id="Footnote_57_57"></a><a href="#FNanchor_57_57"><span class="label">57</span></a> Haller, amplifying Descartes, writes in the “Primæ Lineæ,” -<span class="smcap lowercase">CCCLXVI.</span>—<span lang="la" xml:lang="la">“Non est adeo obscurum sensum omnem oriri ab objecti -sensibilis impressione in nervum quemcumque corporis humani, et -eamdem per eum nervum ad cerebrum pervenientem tunc demum representari -animæ, quando cerebrum adtigit. Ut etiam hoc falsum sit -animam inproximo per sensoria nervorumque ramos sentire.”... -<span class="smcap lowercase">DLVII.</span>—“Dum ergo sentimus quinque diversissima entia conjunguntur: -corpus quod sentimus: organi sensorii adfectio ab eo corpore: cerebri -adfectio a sensorii percussione nata: in anima nata mutatio: animæ -denique conscientia et sensationis adperceptio.”</span> Nevertheless, Sir -William Hamilton gravely informs his hearers:—“We have no more -right to deny that the mind feels at the finger points, as consciousness -assures us, than to assert that it thinks exclusively in the brain.”—“Lecture -on Metaphysics and Logic,” ii. p. 128. “We have no reason -whatever to doubt the report of consciousness, that we actually perceive -at the external point of sensation, and that we perceive the material -reality.”—<i>Ibid.</i> p. 129.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_58_58" id="Footnote_58_58"></a><a href="#FNanchor_58_58"><span class="label">58</span></a> “Observations on Man,” vol. i. p. 11.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_59_59" id="Footnote_59_59"></a><a href="#FNanchor_59_59"><span class="label">59</span></a> <i>Ibid.</i> p. 8. The speculations of Bonnet are remarkably similar -to those of Hartley; and they appear to have originated independently, -though the “Essai de Psychologie” (1754) is of five years’ later date -than the “Observations on Man” (1749).</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_60_60" id="Footnote_60_60"></a><a href="#FNanchor_60_60"><span class="label">60</span></a> “An Inquiry into the Human Mind on the Principles of Common -Sense,” chap. ii. § 2. Reid affirms that “it is genius, and not the want -of it, that adulterates philosophy, and fills it with error and false -theory;” and no doubt his own lucubrations are free from the smallest -taint of the impurity to which he objects. But, for want of -something more than that sort of “common sense,” which is very -common and a little dull, the contemner of genius did not notice that -the admission here made knocks so big a hole in the bottom of -“common sense philosophy,” that nothing can save it from foundering -in the dreaded abyss of Idealism.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_61_61" id="Footnote_61_61"></a><a href="#FNanchor_61_61"><span class="label">61</span></a> The following diagrammatic scheme may help to elucidate the -theory of sensation:—</p> - -<table summary="Mediate Knowledge" border="0" style="border-collapse: collapse; line-height: .9em;"><tr> -<td> </td><td> </td><td> </td><td> </td><td> </td><td> </td><td> </td> -</tr><tr> -<td class="tdc" colspan="6"><p class="center2">Mediate Knowledge</p></td> -<td> </td> -</tr><tr> -<td class="tdc" colspan="6"><img src="images/cb400h.png" alt="long top curly bracket" /></td> -<td class="tdc"><p class="center2">Immediate</p></td> -</tr><tr> -<td> </td><td> </td> -<td class="tdc" colspan="3"><p class="center2">Sensiferous Apparatus</p></td><td> </td> -<td class="tdc"><p class="center2">Knowledge</p></td> -</tr><tr> -<td> </td> -<td class="tdc" colspan="5"><img src="images/cb300h.png" alt="long top curly bracket" /></td> -<td class="tdc" colspan="5"><img src="images/cb100h.png" alt="short top curly bracket" /></td> -</tr><tr> -<td class="tdc">Objects of sense</td> -<td>│<br />│<br />│<br />│</td> -<td class="tdc"><p class="center2">Receptive<br />(sense Organ)</p></td> -<td class="tdc"><p class="center2">Transmissive<br />(Nerve)</p></td> -<td class="tdc"><p class="center2">Sensificatory<br />(Sensorium)</p></td> -<td>│<br />│<br />│<br />│</td> -<td class="tdc"><p class="center">Sensations and<br />other States of<br />Consciousness</p></td> -</tr><tr> -<td> </td><td>│<br />│</td><td> </td><td> </td><td> </td><td>│<br />│</td><td> </td> -</tr><tr> -<td class="tdc"><p class="center2">Hypothetical<br />Substance of<br />Matter</p></td> -<td>│<br />│<br />│</td><td> </td><td> </td><td> </td><td>│<br />│<br />│</td> -<td class="tdc"><p class="center2">Hypothetical<br />Substance of<br />Mind</p></td> -</tr><tr> -<td class="tdc" colspan="6"><img src="images/cb400h2.png" alt="long bottom curly bracket" height="10" width="400" /></td> -<td class="tdc" colspan="1"><img src="images/cb100h2.png" alt="short bottom curly bracket" /></td> -</tr><tr> -<td class="tdc" colspan="6"><p class="center2">Physical World</p></td> -<td class="tdc" colspan="1"><p class="center2">Mental World</p></td> -</tr><tr> -<td class="tdc" colspan="1"><img src="images/cb100h2.png" alt="short bottom curly bracket" height="10" width="100" /></td> -<td class="tdc" colspan="6"><img src="images/cb400h2.png" alt="long bottom curly bracket" height="10" width="400" /></td> -</tr><tr> -<td class="tdc" colspan="1"><p class="center2">Not Self</p></td> -<td class="tdc" colspan="6"><p class="center2">Self</p></td> -</tr><tr> -<td class="tdc" colspan="6"><img src="images/cb400h2.png" alt="long bottom curly bracket" height="10" width="400" /></td> -<td class="tdc" colspan="1"><img src="images/cb100h2.png" alt="long bottom curly bracket" height="10" width="100" /></td> -</tr><tr> -<td class="tdc" colspan="6"><p class="center2">Non-Ego or Object</p></td> -<td class="tdc" colspan="1"><p class="center2">Ego or Subject</p></td> -</tr></table> - -<p>Immediate knowledge is confined to states of consciousness, or, in other -words, to the phenomena of mind. Knowledge of the physical world, -or of one’s own body and of objects external to it, is a system of -beliefs or judgments based on the sensations. The term “self” is -applied not only to the series of mental phenomena which constitute -the ego, but to the fragment of the physical world which is their constant -concomitant. The corporeal self, therefore, is part of the non-ego; -and is objective in relation to the ego as subject.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_62_62" id="Footnote_62_62"></a><a href="#FNanchor_62_62"><span class="label">62</span></a> <span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">“Chaque fibre est une espèce de touche ou de marteau destiné à -rendre un certain ton.”—Bonnet, “Essai de Psychologie,”</span> chap. iv.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_63_63" id="Footnote_63_63"></a><a href="#FNanchor_63_63"><span class="label">63</span></a> The <span lang="la" xml:lang="la">“Exercitationes de Generatione Animalium,”</span> which Dr. George -Ent extracted from him and published in 1651.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_64_64" id="Footnote_64_64"></a><a href="#FNanchor_64_64"><span class="label">64</span></a> <span lang="la" xml:lang="la">“De Generatione Animalium,”</span> lib ii. cap. x.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_65_65" id="Footnote_65_65"></a><a href="#FNanchor_65_65"><span class="label">65</span></a> “De Generatione,” lib. ii. cap. iv.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_66_66" id="Footnote_66_66"></a><a href="#FNanchor_66_66"><span class="label">66</span></a> <span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">“Cependant, pour revenir aux formes ordinaires ou aux âmes -matérielles, cette durée qu’il leur faut attribuer à la place de celle qu’on -avoit attributée aux atomes pourroit faire douter si elles ne vont pas de -corps en corps; ce qui seroit la métempsychose, à peu près comme -quelques philosophes ont cru la transmission du mouvement et celle des -espèces. Mais cette imagination est bien éloignée de la nature des -choses. Il n’y a point de tel passage; et c’est ici où les transformations -de Messieurs Swammerdam, Malpighi, et Leewenhoek, qui sont des plus -excellens observateurs de notre tems, sont venues à mon secours, et -m’ont fait admettre plus aisément, que l’animal, et toute autre substance -organisée ne commence point lorsque nous le croyons, et que sa generation -apparente n’est qu’une développement et une espèce d’augmentation. -Aussi ai je remarqué que l’auteur de la “Recherche de la Verité,” -M. Regis, M. Hartsocker, et d’autres habiles hommes n’ont pas été fort -éloignés de ce sentiment.” Leibnitz, “Système nouveau de la Nature,”</span> -1695. The doctrine of <span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">“Emboîtement”</span> is contained in the <span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">“Considérations -sur le principe de vie,”</span> 1705; the preface to the <span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">“Theodicée,”</span> -1710; and the <span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">“Principes de la Nature et de la Grace”</span> (§ 6), 1718.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_67_67" id="Footnote_67_67"></a><a href="#FNanchor_67_67"><span class="label">67</span></a> <span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">“Il est vrai que la pensée la plus raisonnable et la plus conforme -à l’experience sur cette question très difficile de la formation du fœtus; -c’est que les enfans sont déja presque tout formés avant même l’action -par laquelle ils sont conçus; et que leurs mères ne font que leur donner -l’accroissement ordinaire dans le temps de la grossesse.” “De la -Recherche de la Verité,”</span> livre ii. chap. vii. p. 334, 7th ed., 1721.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_68_68" id="Footnote_68_68"></a><a href="#FNanchor_68_68"><span class="label">68</span></a> The writer is indebted to Dr. Allen Thomson for reference to the -evidence contained in a note to Haller’s edition of Boerhaave’s <span lang="la" xml:lang="la">“Prælectiones -Academicæ,”</span> vol. v. pt ii. p. 497, published in 1744, that Haller -originally advocated epigenesis.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_69_69" id="Footnote_69_69"></a><a href="#FNanchor_69_69"><span class="label">69</span></a> <span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">“Considérations sur les Corps organisés,”</span> chap. x.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_70_70" id="Footnote_70_70"></a><a href="#FNanchor_70_70"><span class="label">70</span></a> Bonnet had the courage of his opinions, and in the <span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">“Palingénésie -Philosophique,”</span> part vi. chap, iv., he develops a hypothesis which he -terms <span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">“évolution naturelle;”</span> and which, making allowance for his -peculiar views of the nature of generation, bears no small resemblance -to what is understood by “evolution” at the present day:— -</p> -<p lang="fr" xml:lang="fr"> -“Si la volonté divine a créé par un seul Acte l’Universalité des -êtres, d’où venoient ces plantes et ces animaux dont Moyse nous decrit -la Production au troisieme et au cinquieme jour du renouvellement de -notre monde? -</p> -<p lang="fr" xml:lang="fr"> -“Abuserois-je de la liberté de conjectures si je disois, que les Plantes -et les Animaux qui existent aujourd’hui sont parvenus par une sorte -d’evolution naturelle des Etres organisés qui peuplaient ce premier -Monde, sorti immédiatement des <span class="smcap">Mains</span> du <span class="smcap">Createur</span>?... -</p> -<p lang="fr" xml:lang="fr"> -“Ne supposons que trois révolutions. La Terre vient de sortir des -<span class="smcap">Mains</span> du <span class="smcap">Createur</span>. Des causes preparées par sa <span class="smcap">Sagesse</span> font -développer de toutes parts les Germes. Les Etres organisés commencent -à jouir de l’existence. Ils étoient probablement alors bien différens de -ce qu’ils sont aujourd’hui. Ils l’etoient autant que ce premier Monde -différoit de celui que nous habitons. Nous manquons de moyens pour -juger de ces dissemblances, et peut-être que le plus habile Naturaliste -qui auroit été placé dans ce premier Monde y auroit entièrement -méconnu nos Plantes et nos Animaux.”</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_71_71" id="Footnote_71_71"></a><a href="#FNanchor_71_71"><span class="label">71</span></a> <span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">“Ce mot (germe) ne désignera pas seulement un corps organisé -réduit en petit; il désignera encore toute espèce de préformation originelle -dont un Tout organique pent résulter comme de son principe immédiat.”—“Palingénésie -Philosophique,”</span> part x. chap. ii.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_72_72" id="Footnote_72_72"></a><a href="#FNanchor_72_72"><span class="label">72</span></a> <span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">“M. Cuvier considérant que tous les êtres organisés sont dérivés de -parens, et ne voyant dans la nature aucune force capable de produire -l’organisation, croyait à la pré-existence des germes; non pas à la pré-existence -d’un être tout formé, puisqu’il est bien évident que ce n’est -que par des développemens successifs que l’être acquiert sa forme; mais, -si l’on peut s’exprimer ainsi, à la pré-existence du <em lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">radical de l’être</em>, -radical qui existe avant que la série des évolutions ne commence, et -qui remonte certainement, suivant la belle observation de Bonnet, à -plusieurs generations.”—Laurillard, “Éloge de Cuvier,”</span> note 12.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_73_73" id="Footnote_73_73"></a><a href="#FNanchor_73_73"><span class="label">73</span></a> “<span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">Histoire Naturelle</span>,” tom. ii. ed. ii. 1750, p. 350.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_74_74" id="Footnote_74_74"></a><a href="#FNanchor_74_74"><span class="label">74</span></a> <i>Ibid.</i> p. 351.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_75_75" id="Footnote_75_75"></a><a href="#FNanchor_75_75"><span class="label">75</span></a> See particularly Buffon, <i>l.c.</i> p. 41.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_76_76" id="Footnote_76_76"></a><a href="#FNanchor_76_76"><span class="label">76</span></a> <span lang="la" xml:lang="la">“Exercitationes de Generatione.” Ex. 62, “Ovum esse primordium -commune omnibus animalibus.”</span></p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_77_77" id="Footnote_77_77"></a><a href="#FNanchor_77_77"><span class="label">77</span></a> In some cases of sexless multiplication the germ is a cell-aggregate—if -we call germ only that which is already detached from the -parent organism.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_78_78" id="Footnote_78_78"></a><a href="#FNanchor_78_78"><span class="label">78</span></a> Harvey, <span lang="la" xml:lang="la">“Exercitationes de Generatione.” Ex. 45, “Quænam -sit pulli materia et quomodo fiat in Ovo.”</span></p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_79_79" id="Footnote_79_79"></a><a href="#FNanchor_79_79"><span class="label">79</span></a> Not yet actually demonstrated in the case of phænogamous plants.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_80_80" id="Footnote_80_80"></a><a href="#FNanchor_80_80"><span class="label">80</span></a> As Buffon has well said:—<span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">“L’idée de ramener l’explication de -tous les phénomènes à des principes mecaniques est assurement grande -et belle, ce pas est le plus hardi qu’on peut faire en philosophie, et -c’est Descartes qui l’a fait.”</span>—<i>l.c.</i> p. 50.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_81_81" id="Footnote_81_81"></a><a href="#FNanchor_81_81"><span class="label">81</span></a> <span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">“Principes de la Philosophie,” Troisième partie, § 45.</span></p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_82_82" id="Footnote_82_82"></a><a href="#FNanchor_82_82"><span class="label">82</span></a> <span lang="la" xml:lang="la">“Ethices,” Pars tertia, Præfatio.</span></p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_83_83" id="Footnote_83_83"></a><a href="#FNanchor_83_83"><span class="label">83</span></a> <span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">“Système de la Nature.” “Essai sur la Formation des Corps -Organisés,”</span> 1751, xiv.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_84_84" id="Footnote_84_84"></a><a href="#FNanchor_84_84"><span class="label">84</span></a> <span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">“Considérations Philosophiques sur la gradation naturelle des -formes de l’être; ou les essais de la nature qui apprend à faire l’homme,”</span> -1768.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_85_85" id="Footnote_85_85"></a><a href="#FNanchor_85_85"><span class="label">85</span></a> <span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">“Recherches sur les causes des principaux faits physiques,” par J. -B. Lamarck. Paris. Seconde année de la République.</span> In the preface, -Lamarck says that the work was written in 1776, and presented to the -Academy in 1780; but it was not published before 1794, and, at that -time, it presumably expressed Lamarck’s mature views. It would be -interesting to know what brought about the change of opinion manifested -in the “Recherches sur l’organisation des corps vivants,” published -only seven years later.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_86_86" id="Footnote_86_86"></a><a href="#FNanchor_86_86"><span class="label">86</span></a> See the “Historical Sketch” prefixed to the last edition of the -“Origin of Species.”</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_87_87" id="Footnote_87_87"></a><a href="#FNanchor_87_87"><span class="label">87</span></a> “First Principles” and “Principles of Biology,” 1860-1864.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_88_88" id="Footnote_88_88"></a><a href="#FNanchor_88_88"><span class="label">88</span></a> <span lang="de" xml:lang="de">“Generelle Morphologie,”</span> 1866.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_89_89" id="Footnote_89_89"></a><a href="#FNanchor_89_89"><span class="label">89</span></a> <span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">“Il s’agit donc de prouver que la série qui constitute l’échelle -animale réside essentiellement dans la distribution des masses principales -qui la composent et non dans celle des espèces ni même toujours -dans celle des genres.”—“Phil. Zoologique,”</span> chap. v.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_90_90" id="Footnote_90_90"></a><a href="#FNanchor_90_90"><span class="label">90</span></a> <span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">Philosophie Zoologique, première partie, chap. iii.</span></p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_91_91" id="Footnote_91_91"></a><a href="#FNanchor_91_91"><span class="label">91</span></a> <span lang="de" xml:lang="de">“Entwurf einer Darstellung der zwischen dem Embryozustande -der höheren Thiere und dem permanenten der niederen stattfindenden -Parallele,” “Beyträge zur Vergleichenden Anatomie,”</span> Bd. ii. 1811.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_92_92" id="Footnote_92_92"></a><a href="#FNanchor_92_92"><span class="label">92</span></a> “Origin of Species,” ed. 1, p. 457.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_93_93" id="Footnote_93_93"></a><a href="#FNanchor_93_93"><span class="label">93</span></a> <i>Ibid.</i> p. 458.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_94_94" id="Footnote_94_94"></a><a href="#FNanchor_94_94"><span class="label">94</span></a> “Origin of the Species,” p. 431.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_95_95" id="Footnote_95_95"></a><a href="#FNanchor_95_95"><span class="label">95</span></a> “Origin of Species,” ed. 1, p. 463.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_96_96" id="Footnote_96_96"></a><a href="#FNanchor_96_96"><span class="label">96</span></a> <span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">“Discours de la Méthode,” 6<sup>e</sup> partie, Ed. Cousin, p. 193.</span></p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_97_97" id="Footnote_97_97"></a><a href="#FNanchor_97_97"><span class="label">97</span></a> <i>Ibid.</i> pp. 193 and 211.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_98_98" id="Footnote_98_98"></a><a href="#FNanchor_98_98"><span class="label">98</span></a> <span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">“De la Formation du Fœtus.”</span></p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_99_99" id="Footnote_99_99"></a><a href="#FNanchor_99_99"><span class="label">99</span></a> “Theoria Generationis,” 1759.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_100_100" id="Footnote_100_100"></a><a href="#FNanchor_100_100"><span class="label">100</span></a> <span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">“Anatomie générale,” i. p. liv.</span></p></div> - -<p class="center">THE END.</p> - -<p class="center f06"><i>Printed by</i> <span class="smcap">R. & R. Clark</span>, <i>Edinburgh</i>.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p class="center f12">MESSRS. MACMILLAN & CO.’S PUBLICATIONS.<br /> - -<small>BY THE SAME AUTHOR.</small></p> - -<p class="indent padt1">Lay Sermons, Addresses, and Reviews. Eighth -Edition. 8vo. 7s. 6d.</p> - -<p class="left padl2"><small><span class="smcap">Contents</span>:—The Advisableness of improving Natural Knowledge—Emancipation, -Black and White—A Liberal Education, and where to find it—Scientific -Education—On the Study of Zoology—On the Physical Basis of -Life—The Scientific Aspects of Positivism—On a Piece of Chalk, the Origin -of Species, etc.</small></p> - -<p class="indent padt1">Essays selected from Lay Sermons, Addresses, and</p> - -<p class="left padl2"><small>Reviews. Third Edition. Crown 8vo. 1s.</small></p> - -<p class="indent padt1">Critiques and Addresses. 8vo. 10s. 6d.</p> - -<p class="left padl2"><small><span class="smcap">Contents</span>:—Administrative Nihilism—The School Boards: what they can -do, and what they may do—On Medical Education—Yeast—On the Formation -of Coal—On Coral and Coral Reefs—On the Methods and Results of Ethnology—On -some Fixed Points in British Ethnology—Palæontology and the -Doctrine of Evolution—Biogenesis and Abiogenesis—Mr. Darwin’s Critics—The -Genealogy of Animals—Bishop Berkeley on the Metaphysics of Sensation, -etc.</small></p> - -<p class="indent padt1">American Addresses, with a Lecture on the Study of -Biology. 8vo. 6s. 6d.</p> - -<p class="left padl2"><small><span class="smcap">Contents</span>:—Three Lectures on Evolution: I. The Three Hypotheses respecting -the History of Nature; II. The Hypothesis of Evolution, the Neutral -and the Favourable Evidence; III. The Demonstrative Evidence of Evolution—An -Address on the occasion of the Opening of the Johns Hopkins University—On -the Study of Biology, etc.</small></p> - -<p class="indent padt1">Physiography. An Introduction to the Study of -Nature. With Coloured Plates and Woodcuts. New and Cheaper Edition. -Crown 8vo. 6s. (Thirty-third Thousand.)</p> - -<p class="left padl2"><small>“It would hardly be possible to place a more useful or suggestive book in -the hands of learners and teachers, or one that is better calculated to make -physiography a favourite subject in the Science Schools.”—<cite>Academy.</cite></small></p> - -<p class="left padl2"><small>“It is not too much to say that any one who will read through this little -volume will have a clearer and more connected idea of the physical phenomena of -the earth than could be obtained by the perusal of many elaborate treatises.”—<cite>The Guardian.</cite></small></p> - -<p class="indent padt1">Lessons in Elementary Physiology. With numerous -Illustrations. New Edition. Fcap. 8vo. 4s. 6d.</p> - -<p class="indent padt1">Introductory Primer. 18mo. 1s. (Macmillan’s -<cite>Science Primers</cite>.)</p> - -<p class="indent padt1">Hume. Crown 8vo. Paper Covers, 1s.; Cloth, 1s. 6d. -(<cite>English Men of Letters.</cite>)</p> - -<p class="left padl2"><small>“It may fairly be said that no one now living could have expounded Hume -with more sympathy or with equal perspicuity.”—<cite>Athenæum.</cite></small></p> - -<p class="indent padt1">A Course of Practical Instruction in Elementary -Biology. By <span class="smcap">T. H. Huxley</span>, F.R.S., LL.D., assisted by <span class="smcap">H. N. Martin</span>, -M.A., M.B., D.Sc., F.R.S., Fellow of Christ’s College, Cambridge.</p> - -<p class="left padl2"><small>New Edition, revised and extended by <span class="smcap">G. B. Howes</span>, Assistant Professor of -Zoology, Normal School of Science, and Royal School of Mines; and <span class="smcap">D. H. -Scott</span>, M.A., Ph.D., Assistant Professor of Botany, Normal School of Science, -and Royal School of Mines. New Edition, thoroughly revised. With a -Preface by <span class="smcap">T. H. Huxley</span>, F.R.S. Crown 8vo. 10s. 6d.</small></p> - -<p class="center padt1">BY PROFESSOR CLIFFORD, F.R.S., <span class="smcap">Etc.</span></p> - -<p class="indent padt1">Lectures and Essays. By the late Professor <span class="smcap">W. K. -Clifford</span>, F.R.S.</p> - -<p class="left padl2"><small>Edited by <span class="smcap">Leslie Stephen</span> and <span class="smcap">Frederick Pollock</span>, -with Introduction by <span class="smcap">F. Pollock</span>. With Portraits. Two vols. 8vo. 25s. -Popular Edition. Crown 8vo. 8s. 6d.</small></p> - -<p class="indent padt1">Mathematical Papers. Edited by <span class="smcap">Robert Tucker</span>.</p> - -<p class="left padl2"><small>With an Introduction by <span class="smcap">H. J. Stephen Smith</span>, M.A., LL.D., F.R.S., etc. -Demy 8vo. 30s.</small></p> - -<p class="indent padt1">Seeing and Thinking. With Diagrams. Crown 8vo. -3s. 6d. (<cite>Nature Series.</cite>)</p> - -<p class="center padt1">BY PROFESSOR P. G. TAIT.</p> - -<p class="indent padt1">Lectures on some Recent Advances in Physical Science.</p> - -<p class="left padl2"><small>With Illustrations. Second Edition. Revised and enlarged, with the Lecture -on Force, delivered before the British Association. Crown 8vo. 9s.</small></p> - -<p class="center padt1">BY ALFRED RUSSEL WALLACE.</p> - -<p class="indent padt1">The Malay Archipelago: The Land of the Orang Utan -and the Bird of Paradise.</p> - -<p class="left padl2"><small>A Narrative of Travel. With Studies of Man and -Nature. With Maps and Illustrations. Ninth Edition. Crown 8vo. 7s. 6d.</small></p> - -<p class="indent padt1">Contributions to the Theory of Natural Selection.</p> - -<p class="left padl2"><small>A Series of Essays. New Edition. Crown 8vo. 8s. 6d.</small></p> - -<p class="indent padt1">The Geographical Distribution of Animals, with a -Study of the Relations of Living and Extinct Faunas as elucidating the past -changes of the Earth’s Surface.</p> - -<p class="left padl2"><small>With numerous Illustrations by <span class="smcap">Zwecker</span>, -and Maps. Two vols. Medium 8vo. 42s.</small></p> - -<p class="indent padt1">Tropical Nature; and other Essays. 8vo. 12s.</p> - -<p class="indent padt1">Island Life; or, The Phenomena and Causes of Insular -Faunas and Floras, including a revision and attempted solution of the Problem -of Geological Climates.</p> - -<p class="left padl2"><small>With Illustrations and Maps. Demy 8vo. 18s.</small></p> - -<p class="center padt1">BY SIR JOHN LUBBOCK, BART., M.P., F.R.S., D.C.L.</p> - -<div class="blockquot"> - -<p class="indent padt1">Fifty Years of Science. Being the Presidential Address -delivered at York to the British Association, 1881. 8vo. 2s. 6d.</p> - -<p class="indent padt1">The Origin and Metamorphoses of Insects.</p> - -<p class="left padl2"><small>With Illustrations. New Edition. Crown 8vo. 3s. 6d. (<cite>Nature Series.</cite>)</small></p> - -<p class="indent padt1">On British Wild Flowers considered in their Relation -to Insects.</p> - -<p class="left padl2"><small>With Illustrations. New Edition. Cr. 8vo. 4s. 6d. (<cite>Nature Series.</cite>)</small></p> - -<p class="indent padt1">Flowers, Fruits, and Leaves.</p> - -<p class="left padl2"><small>With Illustrations. -Crown 8vo. 4s. 6d. (<cite>Nature Series.</cite>)</small></p> - -<p class="indent padt1">Scientific Lectures. With Illustrations. 8vo. 8s. 6d.</p> - -<p class="indent padt1">Political and Educational Addresses. 8vo. 8s. 6d.</p></div> - -<p class="center padt1">BY PROFESSOR BOYD DAWKINS, F.R.S., <span class="smcap">Etc.</span></p> - -<p class="indent padt1">Cave-Hunting: Researches on the Evidence of Caves -respecting the Early Inhabitants of Europe.</p> - -<p class="left padl2"><small>With Coloured Plate and Woodcuts. 8vo. 21s.</small></p> - -<p class="indent padt1">Early Man in Britain, and his Place in the Tertiary -Period.</p> - -<p class="left padl2"><small>With Illustrations. 8vo. 25s.</small></p> - -<hr /> -<p class="center">MACMILLAN & CO., LONDON, W.C.</p> - - - - - - - - -<pre> - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Science and Culture, and Other Essays, by -Thomas Henry Huxley - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SCIENCE AND CULTURE, OTHER ESSAYS *** - -***** This file should be named 52344-h.htm or 52344-h.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/5/2/3/4/52344/ - -Produced by MWS, Adrian Mastronardi, Jason Palmer, Turgut -Dincer and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at -http://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images -generously made available by The Internet Archive/American -Libraries.) - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part -of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm -concept and trademark. Project Gutenberg is a registered trademark, -and may not be used if you charge for the eBooks, unless you receive -specific permission. If you do not charge anything for copies of this -eBook, complying with the rules is very easy. You may use this eBook -for nearly any purpose such as creation of derivative works, reports, -performances and research. They may be modified and printed and given -away--you may do practically ANYTHING in the United States with eBooks -not protected by U.S. copyright law. Redistribution is subject to the -trademark license, especially commercial redistribution. - -START: FULL LICENSE - -THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE -PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK - -To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free -distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work -(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project -Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full -Project Gutenberg-tm License available with this file or online at -www.gutenberg.org/license. - -Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works - -1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to -and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property -(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all -the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or -destroy all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your -possession. If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a -Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound -by the terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the -person or entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph -1.E.8. - -1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be -used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who -agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few -things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works -even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See -paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this -agreement and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works. See paragraph 1.E below. - -1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the -Foundation" or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection -of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual -works in the collection are in the public domain in the United -States. If an individual work is unprotected by copyright law in the -United States and you are located in the United States, we do not -claim a right to prevent you from copying, distributing, performing, -displaying or creating derivative works based on the work as long as -all references to Project Gutenberg are removed. Of course, we hope -that you will support the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting -free access to electronic works by freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm -works in compliance with the terms of this agreement for keeping the -Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with the work. You can easily -comply with the terms of this agreement by keeping this work in the -same format with its attached full Project Gutenberg-tm License when -you share it without charge with others. - -1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern -what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are -in a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, -check the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this -agreement before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, -distributing or creating derivative works based on this work or any -other Project Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no -representations concerning the copyright status of any work in any -country outside the United States. - -1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: - -1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other -immediate access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear -prominently whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work -on which the phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the -phrase "Project Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, -performed, viewed, copied or distributed: - - This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and - most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no - restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it - under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this - eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the - United States, you'll have to check the laws of the country where you - are located before using this ebook. - -1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is -derived from texts not protected by U.S. copyright law (does not -contain a notice indicating that it is posted with permission of the -copyright holder), the work can be copied and distributed to anyone in -the United States without paying any fees or charges. If you are -redistributing or providing access to a work with the phrase "Project -Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the work, you must comply -either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 or -obtain permission for the use of the work and the Project Gutenberg-tm -trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. - -1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted -with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution -must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any -additional terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms -will be linked to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works -posted with the permission of the copyright holder found at the -beginning of this work. - -1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm -License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this -work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. - -1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this -electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without -prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with -active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project -Gutenberg-tm License. - -1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, -compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including -any word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access -to or distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format -other than "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official -version posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site -(www.gutenberg.org), you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense -to the user, provide a copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means -of obtaining a copy upon request, of the work in its original "Plain -Vanilla ASCII" or other form. Any alternate format must include the -full Project Gutenberg-tm License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. - -1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, -performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works -unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. - -1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing -access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works -provided that - -* You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from - the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method - you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is owed - to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he has - agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the Project - Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments must be paid - within 60 days following each date on which you prepare (or are - legally required to prepare) your periodic tax returns. Royalty - payments should be clearly marked as such and sent to the Project - Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the address specified in - Section 4, "Information about donations to the Project Gutenberg - Literary Archive Foundation." - -* You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies - you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he - does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm - License. You must require such a user to return or destroy all - copies of the works possessed in a physical medium and discontinue - all use of and all access to other copies of Project Gutenberg-tm - works. - -* You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of - any money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the - electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days of - receipt of the work. - -* You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free - distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. - -1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic work or group of works on different terms than -are set forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing -from both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and The -Project Gutenberg Trademark LLC, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm -trademark. Contact the Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. - -1.F. - -1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable -effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread -works not protected by U.S. copyright law in creating the Project -Gutenberg-tm collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may -contain "Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate -or corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other -intellectual property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or -other medium, a computer virus, or computer codes that damage or -cannot be read by your equipment. - -1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right -of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project -Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all -liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal -fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT -LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE -PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE -TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE -LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR -INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH -DAMAGE. - -1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a -defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can -receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a -written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you -received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium -with your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you -with the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in -lieu of a refund. If you received the work electronically, the person -or entity providing it to you may choose to give you a second -opportunity to receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If -the second copy is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing -without further opportunities to fix the problem. - -1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth -in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS', WITH NO -OTHER WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT -LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. - -1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied -warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of -damages. If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement -violates the law of the state applicable to this agreement, the -agreement shall be interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or -limitation permitted by the applicable state law. The invalidity or -unenforceability of any provision of this agreement shall not void the -remaining provisions. - -1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the -trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone -providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in -accordance with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the -production, promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works, harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, -including legal fees, that arise directly or indirectly from any of -the following which you do or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this -or any Project Gutenberg-tm work, (b) alteration, modification, or -additions or deletions to any Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any -Defect you cause. - -Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm - -Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of -electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of -computers including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It -exists because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations -from people in all walks of life. - -Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the -assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's -goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will -remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure -and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future -generations. To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation and how your efforts and donations can help, see -Sections 3 and 4 and the Foundation information page at -www.gutenberg.org - - - -Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation - -The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit -501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the -state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal -Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification -number is 64-6221541. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent permitted by -U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. - -The Foundation's principal office is in Fairbanks, Alaska, with the -mailing address: PO Box 750175, Fairbanks, AK 99775, but its -volunteers and employees are scattered throughout numerous -locations. Its business office is located at 809 North 1500 West, Salt -Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887. Email contact links and up to -date contact information can be found at the Foundation's web site and -official page at www.gutenberg.org/contact - -For additional contact information: - - Dr. Gregory B. Newby - Chief Executive and Director - gbnewby@pglaf.org - -Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg -Literary Archive Foundation - -Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide -spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of -increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be -freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest -array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations -($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt -status with the IRS. - -The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating -charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United -States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a -considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up -with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations -where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To SEND -DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any particular -state visit www.gutenberg.org/donate - -While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we -have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition -against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who -approach us with offers to donate. - -International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make -any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from -outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. - -Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation -methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other -ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. To -donate, please visit: www.gutenberg.org/donate - -Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works. - -Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project -Gutenberg-tm concept of a library of electronic works that could be -freely shared with anyone. For forty years, he produced and -distributed Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of -volunteer support. - -Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed -editions, all of which are confirmed as not protected by copyright in -the U.S. unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not -necessarily keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper -edition. - -Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search -facility: www.gutenberg.org - -This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, -including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to -subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. - - - -</pre> - -</body> -</html> diff --git a/old/52344-h/images/cb100h.png b/old/52344-h/images/cb100h.png Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index a085b23..0000000 --- a/old/52344-h/images/cb100h.png +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/52344-h/images/cb100h2.png b/old/52344-h/images/cb100h2.png Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index b0982a4..0000000 --- a/old/52344-h/images/cb100h2.png +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/52344-h/images/cb300h.png b/old/52344-h/images/cb300h.png Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 14dd617..0000000 --- a/old/52344-h/images/cb300h.png +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/52344-h/images/cb400h.png b/old/52344-h/images/cb400h.png Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 9d4f547..0000000 --- a/old/52344-h/images/cb400h.png +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/52344-h/images/cb400h2.png b/old/52344-h/images/cb400h2.png Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 0c72b0f..0000000 --- a/old/52344-h/images/cb400h2.png +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/52344-h/images/cover.jpg b/old/52344-h/images/cover.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 313354b..0000000 --- a/old/52344-h/images/cover.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/52344-h/images/i_002.jpg b/old/52344-h/images/i_002.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index fa77e8a..0000000 --- a/old/52344-h/images/i_002.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/52344-h/images/i_185.jpg b/old/52344-h/images/i_185.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index c70888e..0000000 --- a/old/52344-h/images/i_185.jpg +++ /dev/null |
