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FRAGMENTARY PAPERS 
 
 BY THE I ATE 
 
 SIR H. HOLLAND 
 
LOXDON : PRINTED BY 
 
 BrOTTISTVOODK AND CO., NETV-STKEET SQUAKTJ 
 
 AND PABLIAMENT STUEET 
 
FEAGMENTAEY PAPEBS 
 
 ON 
 
 SCIENCE AND OTHER SUBJECTS 
 
 BY THE LATE 
 
 SIK HENEY HOLLAND, BART. 
 
 EDITED BY HIS SON 
 
 REV. FRANCIS J. HOLLAND 
 
 LONDON 
 
 LONGMAKS, GREEN, AND CO. 
 
 1875 
 
 All rights reserved 
 

 PEEFACE. 
 
 In his ' Eecollections of Past Life,' my Father writes as 
 follows : — ' There is little probability of my ever 
 publishing again ; but I shall leave behind me a 
 volume of manuscript papers consigned to the care of 
 my sons, to deal wdth as their judgment may suggest.' 
 Eeference is here made to certain short essays upon 
 various subjects, which are enumerated in p. 330 of 
 his ' Eecollections of Past Life.' He describes them 
 as ' the thoughts and speculations of former years ; re- 
 duced into more definite form as regards the subjects, 
 and studiously rendered as concise as possible.' And 
 a little later on he speaks of them a3 written for pos- 
 sible publication : ' The papers thus denoted have 
 furnished a very agreeable as well as salutary occupa- 
 tion for those leisure hours which in later years have 
 been more largely at my disposal. But to bring them 
 together, in shape and fitness for publication, would 
 require a more laborious revision tlian I should pro- 
 bably be able to bestow.' 
 
 These words were written in 1872, and it would 
 
 ivio349059 
 
VI TREFACE 
 
 seem that in 1873 my Father, perceiving in him- 
 self no intellectual decline, made up his mind to 
 bestow upon the papers this ' laborious revision.' 
 For, during my last journey with him in Italy, in 
 the autumn of 1873 — a journey from which he only 
 returned to die two days after his arrival in Brook 
 Street — my Father often spoke of tliis as his in- 
 tention ; and in a manuscript book which he had with 
 him at Eome I find the following entry, which I give 
 here in full, both because it is an excellent comment 
 upon the essays published in this volume, and also 
 because it is the very last of the writings of Sir Henry 
 Holland : 
 
 Rome: Octobers, 1873. 
 
 I put the first pen here to a volume which I shall 
 continue at intervals, if health of body and mind be still 
 continued to me. The following is the object proposed : 
 
 In my desk are numerous papers or essays, chiefly written 
 within the last ten or twelve years. The subjects they treat 
 of are, partly, the discoveries and speculations of modern 
 physical science ; partly, those great problems of human life 
 in its various relations to the world around, which have been 
 touched upon in ail ages of philosophy, but have become 
 better defined in our own day, in effect of those stricter laws 
 of induction which have been imposed upon human thought 
 however directed. 
 
 In writing these papers I made it a chief object to define 
 as far as possible, for my own instruction, the knowledge 
 actually attained on each subject; the direction and possible 
 attainments of the future; and the limits which in their 
 very nature are impassable by human reason or research. 
 Looking recently over these papers after the lapse of some 
 
PREFACE. Vll 
 
 years, I find that many of them would need to be rewritten 
 to meet the demands of fresh discovery or more exact know- 
 ledge ; while the questions involved in others have been so 
 largely handled in modern controversy, that my treatment 
 of them would have little otlier novelty than perhaps a closer 
 concentration of the argument upon the conclusion sought 
 for. Such method indeed, explicitly followed, has especial 
 value in questions of the kind here alluded to. Strong or 
 crucial proofs are enfeebled by contact with weaker ones, and 
 an argument may be prolonged until it loses all its pith and 
 purport. 
 
 Judging, then, that the larger part of these papers could 
 not be published in their present shape, and seeing that 
 needful changes could not be incorporated without rewriting 
 the whole, which at the age of eighty-five would have been an 
 impossible task, I have thought it best to summarise in a 
 more abridged form what may seem worth retaining of their 
 contents, with such additions as are suggested by the progress 
 of recent research. Such summary indeed I cannot feel to 
 be an easy one. Discovery has been largely at work of late 
 in every branch of human knowledge, and even these con- 
 nexions and correlations in the physical sciences, now so 
 extensively developed, while concentrating physical pheno- 
 mena, whether of living or lifeless matter, round certain 
 foci, have virtually extended the field of research by bringing 
 into view not only new classes of facts, but also those pro- 
 found laws of force and motion upon which these inter- 
 relations depend. The horizon of our knowledge continually, 
 though unequally, expands — obscure in its boundary on every 
 side, and ultimately defined by limits impassable to human 
 reason. One man by genius or happy accident may press 
 more closely than another towards this horizon ; but the 
 ultimate limit is the same to all, involving those mysteries 
 of Matter, Force, and Creati\ e or Grovernmental Power, to 
 which all other problems are subordinate. 
 
VllI PREFACE. 
 
 Seeing then the magnitude of the subjects touched upon, 
 all that I can venture to draw from the papers I have 
 written must be desultory in character, and very imperfect 
 in its handling of each. All that I can expect to afford is 
 a summary of our actual knowledge on some of these great 
 topics, denoting especially what may be considered truths 
 conclusively proved, as distinguished from what is hypo- 
 thetical or presumptive only. Much, probably more than 
 we care to acknowledge, comes under the latter head . . . 
 
 Witli this unfinished sentence the pen of my Father 
 was laid down for ever; and- that these closing words 
 are thoroughly characteristic, will be felt by every 
 reader of the Essays here brought together. Sentence 
 after sentence could be quoted from them, as also from 
 his other writings, to show how he understood, and 
 ever earnestly taught, that ' those whose researches 
 and thoughts go deepest are best prepared to en- 
 dorse the words of Laplace, " Notre ignorance est 
 immense," as the expression of a truth underlying 
 all our knowledge.' 
 
 I feel that no further preface is needed for these 
 Essays. As they were left in the MS., so are they 
 now printed for the first time without any material 
 alteration. 
 
 To the papers not hitherto published have been 
 added three reviews which Sir Henry contributed to 
 the 'Edinburgh Eeview ' in the years 1864, 1871, and 
 J873. 
 
 FRANCIS J. HOLLAND. 
 
CONTENTS, 
 
 PAOK 
 
 PROGIIESS OF HUMAN KNOWLEDGE 1 
 
 UNITY OF THE CREATIVE FOWER THROUGHOUT CREATION . . 19 
 
 PLURALITY OF WORLDS — ARE OTHER PLANETS INHABITED? . 26 
 
 MATTER AND FORCE, IN PHYSICAL PHENOMENA . . . . 32 
 
 ON MATTER, FORCE, AND MOTION IN SPACE .... 48 
 
 DIVISIBILITY OF MATTER — ATOMIC THEORY 62 
 
 THE ELECTRIC ELEMENT 81 
 
 MENTAL OPERATIONS IN RELATION TO TIME 94 
 
 ASTRONOMY AS A SCIENCE — THE SUN 113 
 
 LIFE ON THE EARTH — RELATIONS OF MAN TQ OTHER ANIMALS . 125 
 
 ANIMAL INSTINCTS 147 
 
 EVIL IN THE WORLD 162 
 
 PERFECTIBILITY OF MAN . . 169 
 
 INFINITY — ETERNITY — ^THE UNTHINKABLE . . . .190 
 
 NATURAL THEOLOGY 195 
 
 MATERIALISM AS A QUESTION OF SCIENCE /AND PHILOSOPHY . 206 
 
 DIFFERENCES OF RELIGIOUS BELIEF 214 
 
 SCEPTICISM AND CREDULITY . . . . . . .219 
 
 INSANITY 225 
 
X CONTENTS. 
 
 FAGB 
 
 HlSTOliY 229 
 
 SUAKESPEARE . . . 238 
 
 INFLUENCE OF WORDS AND NAMES 244 
 
 SUBJECTIVE FUNCTIONS OF THE EYE 248 
 
 MAN AND NATURE . . . . . '. . . 251 
 
 LAUGEL'S problems of NATURE AND LIFE . . ' . . . 311 
 
 MAURY ON SLEEP AND DREAMS . ' 363 
 
E S SAYS. 
 
 PROGRESS OF HUMAN KNOWLEDGE. 
 
 No ONE can have lived to his eightieth year (my pre- 
 sent age) without an occasional revision of the events 
 which have been comprised — compressed one might well 
 say — ^within this time ; and amidst many that are ex- 
 traordinary, none are more so than those which mark 
 the progress of human knowledge, and especially of 
 the physical sciences, during the period in question. 
 When travelHng over continent or ocean under the 
 power of steam — when looking (and I never do so 
 without a certain awe) on those wires and cables which 
 make the electric current the instantaneous messenger 
 of man over the globe — or on the light of the electric 
 lamp, emulating that of the sun — or on the photo- 
 graphic creations of the sun itself — or on the brilhant 
 metals extracted by the chemist from the dullest earths 
 — or on those spectrum hues whi^h have made known 
 various new metals on our own globe, and even dis- 
 closed many of the constituents and physical charac- 
 ters of the sun and stars — when looking at these, and 
 many similar things, showing the new mastery Man 
 
Z PROGKESS OF HUMAN KNOWLEDGE. 
 
 has obtained over Matter and its moving Forces, the 
 thought runs back, ahnost starthngly, to that earlier 
 yet not remote time, when these powers were all 
 hidden from our knowledge as completely as if having 
 no existence in the natural world. In the boyhood of 
 my own life some of them now mightiest in our hands 
 lay dormant and purposeless around us. The period 
 which has disclosed them to our knowledge and senses 
 must ever rank high in human chronology. 
 
 More than sixty years ago Davy showed me, at the 
 Eoyal Institution, the minute globules of sodium and 
 potassium just obtained from the fixed alkalis. In the 
 same laboratory, the birthplace of so many great dis- 
 coveries, I witnessed his first experiments on the 
 chemical actions of the voltaic current — an era in 
 chemical science. Very few years later I heard Dalton 
 expound for the first time that Atomic Theory, which 
 (whatever the antecedent suggestions) gave the earhest 
 impulse to those researches, of which organic chemistry, 
 present and prospective, is the most wonderful expo- 
 nent. Yet later, in the theatre of the Eoyal Institu- 
 tion, I was one of a small party to whom Faraday 
 showed the spark he had just succeeded in drawing 
 from the magnet ; so feeble then as to require an 
 effort to see it, but the forerunner of those marvellous 
 powers which have since been elicited from the same 
 source. These dates, though belonging to my own life 
 only, tell in some part what this century has done for 
 physical science. 
 
 In an article of the ' Edinburgh Eeview,* some 
 ten years ago (since repubhshed), I sought to dehneate 
 the progress recently made in this great department of 
 
PROGRESS OP HUMAN KNOWLEDGE. 3 
 
 human knowledge. Such records from time to time, 
 even if imperfect, have their use in denoting the 
 several stages of advancement marked not only by new 
 facts but also by new methods of enquiry. The latter 
 is the point I would chiefly keep in view in what I am 
 now writing. Laplace has said, and truly, that the 
 methods which have led to discovery are often not less 
 useful to science than the discoveries themselves. 
 And nothing so well deserves note in the attainments 
 of the present age as the various new resources, 
 mental and material, which have been brought to bear 
 on the advancement of human knowledge — of the 
 physical sciences more especially, but even of those en- 
 quiries into invisible things, which have perplexed men 
 from one age to another. The stricter demand for 
 proof, as applied to the material world, has borne 
 some fruit even in this obscure region of speculative 
 thought. 
 
 What I am about to write on this subject will have 
 little novelty for scientific men, or those who have re- 
 flected upon it, but may serve to give others out of 
 this pale some general ideas of the actual attainments 
 of our time, and some presage of what lies beyond it 
 in the future. 
 
 The better determination of/ what is solved and 
 what unresolved^ and the same discrimination applied 
 to the higher question of what things are resolvable and 
 what irresolvable by human research, are points which 
 may first be noted as characteristic of the science of 
 our time. Truth and certainty are more clearly defined 
 as the objects sought for under the conditions just 
 
 B 2 
 
4 PROGRESS OF HUMAN KNOWLEDGE. 
 
 stated. These conditions, however, must not be re- 
 ceived without limitation. The lines between the 
 known and unknown — between the possible and im- 
 possible — are not always drawn as distinctly as these 
 terms assume. The boundaries are perpetually shifting, 
 and at no period so rapidly as in our own day. Arago 
 says : ' Celui qui, en dehors des mathematiques pures, 
 prononce le mot impossible^ commet une imprudence.' 
 Twenty years ago who would not have declared it 
 impossible to detect and define metals in the sun and 
 fixed stars, or to transmit within a few minutes a 
 message from London to New York ? Physical science 
 in its progress affords many such examples, though 
 none more striking. But even here, and much more 
 still in the physiology of life, in mental philosophy and 
 theology, there are problems insuperable in their very 
 nature, which men of highest capacity, willingly or 
 unwillingly, feel as such, and submit to the limitation. 
 The field, indeed, is ample enough for all labourers in 
 physical science within the boundary thus defined ; 
 and is ever enlarging in its compass. Each discovery 
 made shadows forth new questions to be solved, often 
 of higher import than the discovery which suggested 
 them. Those most deeply versed in the phenomena of 
 the natural world best apprehend the large future which 
 lies before them. It is only in the dark circle of 
 ignorance that knowledge is regarded as certain and 
 complete. 
 
 The ancient and mediaeval philosophers, careless, or 
 unable to define the true objects and hmits of enquiry, 
 have left us a large legacy of vague or incongruous 
 
PROGRESS OF HUMAN KNOWLEDGE. 5 
 
 language in philosophy and science, from the thraldom 
 of which we are hardly yet emancipated. I need not 
 speak of the tyranny which mere phrases often exercise 
 over the understanding, even of the wisest. It is one 
 of the best marks of present progress that, in natural 
 science at least, so much has been done to rescue the 
 mind from this tyranny of words, the coinage of older 
 times and imperfect knowledge. Much, however, 
 remains to be done in reforming and setthng the lan- 
 guage even of the purest sciences. Their vocabulary 
 has of necessity been much enlarged by their very 
 growth, while the fact that almost all are in progressive 
 or transitional state, renders this vocabulary in many 
 cases conventional only, awaiting those changes which 
 more perfect knowledge will require. Chemistry 
 especially is in this condition, with the embarrassment 
 of four or five rival nomenclatures to express the same 
 existing facts. 
 
 The release from the bondage of old opinions is 
 still more marked than the changes of language. An- 
 cient authors are now quoted, not as authorities for 
 truth, but as indicating those earlier efforts to attain it, 
 which form one curious page in the. history of mankind. 
 We read the ' Timseus ' of Plato as a tissue of strange 
 hypotheses, utterly wanting in the elements of proof. We 
 have a more faithful interpreter of nature in Aristotle (rrig 
 ^ucrscog ypaixfjLarsvg), eminent far above his age as an acute 
 and zealous observer, but not recognised as such during 
 the darkness of the mediaeval centuries. The scholastic 
 philosophy of that period embraced only the worser 
 part of the great works he has bequeathed to posterity. 
 
6 PROGRESS OP HUMAN KNOWLEDGE. 
 
 Partial knowledge often perplexes more, and fur- 
 nishes larger material for false philosophy, than does 
 sheer ignorance. Tt is the better understanding of the 
 nature of 'proofs and the cogent demand for it, which 
 characterise the science of our day. Taking the total 
 circle of human knowledge, we find in this single con- 
 dition the source of all recent progress, and the foun- 
 dation of what is to come. The inductions of ancient 
 philosophy, with rare exceptions, were drawn from 
 evidence at once shallow and incomplete, unchecked 
 by experiment or multiphed observations. The change 
 since made forms a signal step in the intellectual 
 advancement of man. While doubtless due in great 
 part to the rigid demands of physical science, the in- 
 fluence has collaterally extended to other and less de- 
 fined branches of human knowledge. The whole may 
 best be described as a growing demand for Truth, put 
 before us as the end and measure of all evidence, to 
 whatever subject directed. So in a general sense it 
 must ever have been regarded. But the 'A?i7jflg/a 
 0SCOV o^jLOTToTiig of the ancients was Truth in the clouds, 
 or seen through the mist of vague theories which no 
 right methods of research came in aid to dispel. 
 
 It must be owned, how^ever, that there are still 
 many who live in this cloud-land of imperfect know- 
 ledge and visionary belief. The phantasms of mes- 
 merism, and the still worse follies or frauds of spirit- 
 rapping, table-turning and clairvoyance, often wrapped 
 in the phraseology of real science, deceive not only the 
 many credulous of the world, but even some men who 
 in other matters can justly appreciate the evidence of 
 
PROGRESS OF HUMAN KNOWLEDGE. 7 
 
 truth. Such incongruities of belief belong to every 
 age ; but the counterfeit never gets the lasting stamp 
 of the genuine coin. The followers of these fancies 
 are prone to pass from one to another, allured by- 
 novelty and more mysterious pretensions. It is a 
 matter of mental temperament ; and, after considerable 
 experience in life, I find myself generally able to in- 
 dicate the persons most hable to be thus deluded. Of 
 these mockeries of science the greater number in my 
 time have been of imported origin ; and it may further 
 be said that the most recent are the most preposterous 
 — as offensive to religion as to science and common 
 sense. Happily the progress of true knowledge is little 
 retarded by these vagaries, which speedily efface one 
 another. Each is destroyed in turn by the same 
 credulity which begot it. 
 
 This stricter demand for proof in every part of 
 modern science is at once a consequence and the cause 
 of experiment, as a main agent in research. The 
 simple history of experiment, in its negative as well as 
 positive incidents, is in itself a curious record of mental 
 progress. The necessities or uses of life must have 
 led the earliest and rudest races to tentative means, in 
 dealing with the raw materials of food, raiment, orna- 
 ment, and defence. But, even when we. come down to 
 the Greeks, we find no distinct recognition of the 
 nature and value of experiment; and encounter the 
 strange fact of a people subtle in observation and 
 thought, and aspiring to higher knowledge, yet failing 
 to seize upon a method so necessary, and seemingly so 
 
8 PROGRESS OF HUMAN KNOWLEDGE. 
 
 obvious, for its pursuit ? ^ If reason did not suggest it, 
 one might have expected accident to do so. Coming 
 down yet later, we find still only a vague understand- 
 ing of the term ; and scarcely half-a-dozen names 
 (Koger Bacon foremost among them) break forth as 
 lights of discovery amidst the darkness of many cen- 
 turies. The researches of the alchymists were blind 
 and next to profitless. Lord Bacon first designated 
 the value of experiment, yet scarcely with a full ap- 
 preciation of all its methods of proof. Though in 
 England alone we have the names of Harvey, Boyle, 
 Gilbert, Hales, Hopke, and the greater name of JSTew- 
 ton, belonging to the same century, yet was the pro- 
 gress of this principle still partial only, and hampered 
 by adhesion to many errors of early date. And the 
 same remark applies generally to the science of France, 
 Germany, and Italy at this period ; great though some 
 of the men were who adventured on new fields and 
 methods of enquiry. 
 
 Chemistry, in its successive stages, is the science 
 which has done most to develope experiment as the 
 great instrument of progress. Electricity, indeed, and 
 optics (the latter in the mighty hands of Newton), 
 furnish early examples of its employment. But 
 chemistry, in dealing with the relations and inter- 
 changes of matter in its most subtle shapes of atoms 
 and molecules, comes by compulsion to experiment as 
 the sole means of fulfiUing its objects. Analysis and 
 
 ^ The exceptional instances of the researches of Archimedes— the 
 experiments of some of the Pythagorean school on the vibrations of bodies, 
 and a few others, do but render the general fact more striking. 
 
PROGRESS OP HUMAN KNOWLEDGE. 9 
 
 synthesis are the two great functions of the science, 
 and thns only can these functions be rendered effective. 
 In its present state, and irrespectively of ulterior results 
 almost certain in prospect, chemistry is the most won- 
 derful exponent of the power of experiment in giving 
 man access to the inner secrets of nature and those 
 laws which govern the material elements around us. 
 Organic chemistry, especially in its synthetic part, has 
 justly been called a system of atomic architecture. 
 Working by the most refined processes of addition, ab- 
 straction, and substitution of atoms — of difierent kinds, 
 but ever in definite proportions of weight or measure 
 — the chemist has been able to elaborate and arrange, 
 in determinate series, numerous products either wholly 
 new or created heretofore only by the hidden work- 
 ings of organic life. Eecently these secret processes 
 have themselves been brought into partial subjection ; 
 and, starting from the same simple elements with which 
 Nature works, the chemist obtains in his laboratory a 
 long series of substances, identical in type and com- 
 position with the products of animal and vegetable life. 
 This may be ranked among the greatest achievements 
 of modern science. It is due to experiment as the 
 instrument of research — experiment so elaborate and 
 refined, that its mere methods become a science,, irre- 
 spectively of the results attained. 
 
 Analysis, though not exercising this creative power, 
 signally attests in its present exactness the progress of 
 experimental science. Quantities and proportions be- 
 fore inappreciable are now brought into strict account ; 
 and, what is yet more worthy of note, new methods of 
 
10 PROGRESS OF HUMAN KNOWLEDGii:. 
 
 analysis, subtle almost beyond conception, have been 
 furnished collaterally by other sciences. To the spec- 
 trum analysis we owe already four new metals, and the 
 detection of others before known, in combinations un- 
 der which their infinitesimal proportions had hitherto 
 concealed them. The analysis by diffusion and dia- 
 lytic separation^ due to the researches of Mr. Graham, 
 is another of these new methods, the more inte- 
 resting from its direct relation to the atomic consti- 
 tution and molecular changes of matter. 
 
 Electricity, though still a mystery in certain of its 
 most elementary facts, has- been a field for the highest 
 refinements of experimental research ; illustrating by 
 wonderful results the new and mighty power now sub- 
 mitted to the will and uses of man. Heat, as one of 
 the great motive forces of the universe, has been simi- 
 larly the subject of experiment, creating what might be 
 called a science in itself, were it not so closely linked 
 with other phenomena of the natural world. Light, 
 that sister ' ofispring of heaven,' has afibrded to man 
 one of his greatest triumphs, through those beautiful 
 experimental researches, aided by the higher mathema- 
 tics, which have disclosed to us the sunbeam as the most 
 marvellous object in the natural world, and carried 
 our knowledge yet beyond, to the sun itself — to its ele- 
 ments and unceasing changes of state. All parts of 
 physical science yield similar if less striking illustra- 
 tions. All are so connected by physical relation of 
 matter and force, that a successful experiment in one 
 science often discloses the secrets of another seemingly 
 far removed. 
 
PROGRESS OF HUMAN KNOWLEDGE. 11 
 
 The perfection of the instruments now applied to 
 experimental research deserves study in itself, as an 
 attestation of human progress. Seneca somewhere de- 
 precates all manual methods and inventions as beneath 
 the dignity of philosophy. Modern science dignifies 
 and hastens to appropriate them, whatever they be. 
 A common catalogue would contain all the admirable 
 inventions of apparatus serving the purposes of each 
 science, and enabling one science to minister to 
 the progress of another. Look, for instance, at the 
 various aids which electricity has rendered to all the 
 sciences, through instruments depending on its pheno- 
 mena — such as the thermoscope, the electric lamp, the 
 electric apparatus connected with telescopes for transit 
 observations, the electric telegraph, and the many 
 admirable devices by which this wonderful agent — its 
 current simply cut off or restored — is made to record 
 almost instantaneously, whatever the distance, the 
 words of human intercourse, and to register the most 
 subtle phenomena of the natural wotld. The various 
 apparatus by which the electric element itself is 
 evolved, directed, and multiplied in quantity or inten- 
 sity, illustrate equally well this instrumental perfection. 
 Strange that it should have been thus far attained, 
 while we yet are ignorant what electricity really is ! ^ 
 
 What has been said of experiment as bearing on 
 
 * The researches of Matteucci, Du Bois Raymond; and Helmholtz on 
 animal electricity, and on the rate of transmission of the nervous agent 
 through the nerves, muscles, and brain, have required and produced 
 instrumental apparatus of the most consummate delicacy as well as 
 complexity. The same description may be given of the instrumental 
 means employed by Wheatstone, Foucard, and Fizeau to determine the 
 Telocity of electricity and light. 
 
12 PROGRESS OF HUMAN KNOWLEDGE. 
 
 the progress of physical science apphes also to the 
 knowledge got by observation. Here, again, the genius 
 of the age has invented instrumental aids, so augment- 
 ing the natural powers of the eye as to give access to 
 that which is greatest and that which is least in the 
 world around us. The telescope and microscope, 
 both modern creations, have attained what may almost 
 seem the hmit of perfection. But, apart from these 
 instrumental means, the whole theory and practice of 
 observation has undergone a conspicuous change. Phe- 
 nomena, in every part of the natural world, disregarded 
 before, are now registered in the great volume of 
 Science — the simplest and most familiar often disclos- 
 ing truths which are denied to more recondite research. 
 Observation in its methods and records has become 
 almost a science in itself. The senses even have been 
 so tutored into obedience to the intellect as in some 
 degree to augment their natural powers ; while the in- 
 stant embodiment of every new fact observed in some 
 record of prior knowledge gives both motive and direc- 
 tion to those who labour in this large and fertile field. 
 
 These new and various resources of physical enquiry 
 have not merely extended all the sciences of older 
 time, but have given origin to others unknown as such. 
 Electricity, including the cognate phenomena of Mag- 
 netism, is the most striking example ; since the very 
 power itself, though pervading our globe, and probably 
 worlds beyond, may almost be deemed a recent dis- 
 covery. Though deahng with elements more familiar 
 to the senses, the sciences of Light and Heat are vir- 
 tually the creation of the last two centuries. The know- 
 
PROGRESS OF HUMAN KNOWLEDGE. 13 
 
 ledge of the fossil world, vast though its scope and 
 attainments now are, has grown up in the course of a 
 single lifetime. When I was at Edinburgh, from 1809 
 to 1811, an angry contest existed between the Plutonian 
 and Neptunian schools of Geology. The ' Ossemens 
 Fossiles' of Cuvier had been published a few years 
 before ; but this great topic scarcely found place in 
 the controversy. Its value as an index to geological 
 ages and successions was barely understood, and its 
 future greatness as a science wholly unseen. 
 
 The term prediction^ in its strict sense, belongs 
 almost exclusively to the science of our own day. 
 Except in a few astronomical phenomena, the know- 
 ledge of the ancients never reached to this highest ex- 
 pression of intellectual power and progress. The 
 faculty of predicting, through known phenomena, 
 others yet unseen and unknown, needs no epithets to 
 mark its import. It is, in fact, the nearest approach 
 made to those higher laws through which the Creator 
 acts in the natiu-al world, and is due mainly to that 
 increasing exactness of experiment and observation, of 
 which number, weight, and measure are the practical 
 exponents. Savoir pour prevoir is the key to all scien- 
 tific predictions. Every branch of physical knowledge 
 is rich in examples of them. Astronomy, Optics, 
 Chemistry, and Electricity furnish the most striking — 
 such as the elliptic polarisation of light — the discovery 
 of new metals by spectrum analysis — the discovery of 
 Neptune through the perturbations of Uranus — the 
 discovery of numerous chemical compounds through 
 the laws of atomicity and definite proportions, &c. 
 
14 PROGRESS OF HUMAN KNOWLEDGE. 
 
 While recognising these results of the human intellect 
 as best marking man's place in creation, it is needful to 
 note how few there are capable of reaching them. In 
 comparison with men thus endowed, able to bring their 
 endowments into action, how endless the multitudes of 
 all times and races of men, the cyphers of creation, 
 who tenant the earth in successive generations, without 
 leaving traces of their existence behind ! 
 
 A clearer perception of the instantice crucis, grow- 
 ing out of the more rigid demand for proofs, is one of 
 the characteristics of modern science. The value of 
 these cannot easily be overrated. Kept closely before 
 the mind, they give stability to actual knowledge, and 
 starting-points for its future extension. There is no 
 single well-assured truth, however limited its seeming 
 import, which may not become the germ of others. It 
 is a part of wisdom to store the mind with instances of 
 this kind, which appertain to general philosophy and 
 theology as well as to physical science. The simpler 
 such instances are the better. If encumbered with 
 details, their pertinency and practical value are pro- 
 portionally impaired. 
 
 In a record of the progress of the physical sciences 
 it is fitting to note the curious halts or arrests often 
 occurring in connexion with some particular theory or 
 fresh discovery of facts. Many retrospective instances 
 might be given of these unstable resting-places in our 
 knowledge. The doctrine of Phlogiston in its origin 
 and fate is one of the most familiar. The doctrines 
 of Elective Affinity held by the earher chemists, and 
 
PKOGRESS OF HUMAN KNOWLEDGE. 15 
 
 the theory of an acidifying principle derived from 
 the discoveries of Lavoisier, are other examples in 
 point, as is also the Emission theory of Light, long 
 implicitly held and successfully applied to the solu- 
 tion of many phenomena. I would cite the Primitive 
 Cell theory of our own time as another instance. 
 Physiologists exulted in the discovery of this common 
 germ of all vital organisation, as though it were a ter- 
 minus in this line of research, not duly considering 
 that cells themselves are a product of organisation, and 
 til at they contain matter which has better claim than 
 its receptacle to be regarded as germinal to the won- 
 derful varieties of life issuing therefrom. Without 
 noting other such instances, we may set them down 
 generally as mere pauses in the march of science — 
 often, indeed, as convenient resting-places whence to 
 obtain more distinct views of the objects to be sought 
 for beyond. ^ 
 
 The vast accession of knowledge to man from study 
 of the elements of Matter and Force in the universe 
 necessarily implies some change in the amount, as well 
 as methods of use, of his intellectual powers. I have 
 already spoken of the more perfect understanding of 
 what is Truth as founded upon evidence. Inventive- 
 ness is another faculty of mind awakened and enlarged 
 by the researches of experimental science, as well as 
 by that spirit of competition which civihsed hfe en- 
 genders and sharpens. The mind grows within itself 
 by exercise of its powers ; and we have some reason 
 for supposing that this growth may become hereditary ; 
 
16 PROGRESS OF HUM.iN KNOWLEDGE. 
 
 not indeed by any obvious or certain law, but under 
 conditions analogous to those by which bodily hke- 
 ness is transmitted to successive generations. 
 
 I have been illustrating the progress of human 
 knowledge chiefly through the physical sciences ; and 
 this, in truth, is almost a necessity of the subject. It 
 can hardly be affirmed that mere speculative thought, 
 apart from material research, takes a wider or bolder 
 form than it did in the ancient philosophy. There 
 is scarcely a single hypothesis, w^hatever the subject, 
 which has not some prototype, more or less defined, 
 in one school or other of the Greek, Eoman, or 
 mediaeval ages. Man, Mind and Matter, Life, Death 
 and Futurity, the Nature of the Deity, the Origin of 
 Evil, &c., furnished to them, as to us, problems upon 
 which all who have capacity for thought are in some 
 sort compelled to exercise it. But these great ques- 
 tions were then more loosely propounded and vaguely 
 pursued. Physical science in those times lent little 
 aid either by facts or methods of enquiry, and induc- 
 tions were drawn from evidence the most incomplete. 
 The condition of the world too is changed. Thoughts 
 and speculations are no longer soHtary and exclusive, 
 or limited to particular schools and forms. Know- 
 ledge has become a common heritage, expanded and 
 enriched by free and rapid intercourse over every 
 part of the habitable globe. Nevertheless the dif- 
 ference just denoted is ever present to observation. 
 The physical sciences have rapidly and universally 
 advanced. Metaphysical questions, though better de- 
 fined in their purport, remain unsolved in their iilti- 
 
PROGRESS OF HUMAN KNOWLEDGE. 17 
 
 mate truths, and are so transmitted from one age to 
 another. 
 
 One other indication, and that a striking one, of 
 the recent progress of natural science, is still to be 
 mentioned. I allude to the much closer connection 
 established, not merely among the labourers in this 
 great field, but also among the objects of their labour. 
 Sciences which, as we formerly comprehended and pur- 
 sued them, seemed to have no common kindred, are 
 now seen to be linked together by relations depending 
 on those higher laws of matter and force which govern 
 the natural world. These new relations (or correla- 
 tions^ to use an adopted term) are not only of deep 
 interest in themselves, but they open a way towards 
 that profound philosophy which seeks to give a certain 
 unity to the whole. To what extent the bold aspira- 
 tion of Laplace in this direction may hereafter be 
 realised, it would be hard to say. He has himself 
 used the pregnant phrase, 'Notre ignorance est im- 
 mense.' But that^we shall approach much nearer to 
 this attainment than we have yet done, is testified by 
 the whole history of modern science — a history which 
 continued half a century hence will, I feel assured, 
 embody results far beyond all present contemplation. 
 Electricity and Atomic Chemistry alone are volumes 
 leaving ample space for the records of future discovery. 
 
 I may notice, before closing this paper, those bold 
 generalisations in science which occur from time to 
 time, marking the genius of the men propounding 
 them, and often serving a higher purpose as regards 
 science itself. Take, for instance, the expression of 
 
 c 
 
18 PROGRESS OF HUMAN KNOWLEDGE, 
 
 Kepler, ' Nego ullum motuum perennem non-rectum a 
 Deo conditam esse ' — or that dogma of Leibnitz, that 
 nothing in nature occurs per saltum, or without a 
 sufficient reason why it should be so rather than other- 
 wise — or Pascal's definition of eases where, though two 
 contraries are severally inconceivable, one must neces- 
 sarily be true — or a more specific generalisation in 
 natural history, that there is no living being whose 
 form is geometrically regular, nor any living form 
 having plane faces. . . . Such generalisations, of which 
 many others might be cited, have their value even in 
 the exceptions and contradictions they evoke. The 
 discussion of these often leads to still higher laws, 
 embracing the very exceptions which create the 
 controversy. 
 
19 
 
 UNITY OF THE CREATIVE POWER THROUGHOUT 
 CREATION. 
 
 [Writteh in 1867.] 
 
 As a general question this is answered by general 
 belief. But what we call belief in the world is often 
 only vague conception or unmeaning assent. It is well 
 to hold in hand, for ready use, some special evidences 
 for a truth thus momentous — one so closely connected 
 with the attribute of individuality and design in the 
 Creator. 
 
 Astronomy, through its wonderful interpreter, 
 light, gives answer for that which is most remote in 
 universal space. The most minute telescopic stars, 
 the faintest forms of nebulae transmit hght to us, and 
 are known to exist solely by this transmission. If there 
 be any elemental power, having true and proper unity, 
 it is that of hght as it comes to us from the celestial 
 bodies. The laws of its reflection, refraction, and 
 polarisation are the same, as well as the rate of motion 
 through space, shown by the phenomena of aberration ; 
 while the photographic image of Sirius (a star having 
 a parallax of little more than a quarter of a second) 
 gives proof of a chemical action of light from this 
 enormous distance identical in kind with that of our 
 sun, or of the artificial Hghts we create for experiment 
 in our lecture-rooms. 
 
 c 2 
 
20 UNITY OF THE CKEATIYE POWER. 
 
 Nor does the argument for Unity, derived from 
 light, stop here. Eecent researches have disclosed in 
 the spectra of several of the fixed stars certain lines, 
 exactly corresponding with lines in the solar spectrum. 
 The latter, by an admirable series of experiments and 
 deductions, has already shown the existence in the sun 
 of various elements, chiefly metals, familiar on our own 
 globe — a discovery which ratified at once the boldest 
 assumptions of hypothesis. Conjectures, invited to the 
 question by the analysis of aerohtes, and by other con- 
 siderations, have now been realised, not for our solar 
 system only, but for worlds and systems so remote in 
 space that their fight takes years to reach our globe. 
 Waves of light which quitted the surface of Sirius thus 
 long before make known to the human enquirer the 
 identity of certain material elements there w^ith those 
 famihar to him by every day's sight and use on the 
 earth. Other stars, similarly examined through the 
 identity of these spectrum lines, extend the same pre- 
 sumption to other parts of sidereal space ; while light 
 itself, in disclosing thus far the sameness of material 
 out of which those vast works of creation have been 
 elaborated, declares its own identity throughout the 
 universe, as their exponent and interpreter. Taking 
 the w^hole together, it is an argument for the unity of 
 creation more perfect and more profound than seemed 
 within the power of man to attain. 
 
 Light, then, the fountain of all our knowledge of 
 the universe without, might alone almost suffice in 
 demonstration of the truth we seek for. But the me- 
 chanism of the heavens also, as it comes interpreted 
 
UNITY OF THE CREATIVE POWER. 21 
 
 to US by matter and motion, and signally by that great 
 force of gravitation on which these motions depend, is 
 another explicit declaration of the Unity pervading 
 the most remote parts of space. The accordances 
 here shown to exist, and in some cases even predicted, 
 are such as to exclude all idea of fortuitous relation. 
 A common cause of power can alone be brought to the 
 explanation of effects thus universal to our knowledge. 
 And other great forces also, as Heat, and Electri- 
 city in its different forms, concur severally as well as 
 conjointly in the same proof. Heat, as an agent, we 
 can scarcely dissever from light in our own solar sys- 
 tem ; and we have every reason to presume the relation 
 to be the same wherever light exists.^ Of electricity, 
 whether under its condition of magnetic force or in 
 other forms, we must speak with less assurance ; yet 
 with strong presumption that this element, whatever 
 its intrinsic nature, is largely concerned in the pheno- 
 mena of universal ^reation. Take a single fact in evi- 
 dence, and this from beyond the confines of our own 
 system. When we find iron as a constituent of so 
 many of the fixed stars, how can we justly suppose 
 that a metal so strongly characterised by its magnetic 
 properties on earth should be devoid of these relations 
 in any region of space however remote ? If this in- 
 ference be just, it involves collateral conclusions over 
 which we can scarcely impose a limit. The magnetic 
 force existing in these stellar worlds denotes the pre- 
 
 * Since thia was written, the admirable methods employed by Mr. 
 Higgens with the thermopile have given well-assured proofs of heat 
 derived from Sirius, Arcturus, and others of the fixed stars. 
 
22 UNITY OF THE CEEATIVE POWER. 
 
 sence and action there of that great electric element 
 which, from the universahty of its functions on our own 
 globe, we might well assume to be a cosmical agent in 
 the larger sense of the term ; expressing as such the 
 unity as well as grandeur of the creative power. 
 
 If there be doubt as to electricity or magnetic 
 power pervading other systems than our own, there 
 can be none as to that great power of gravitation — an 
 attribute of all matter ; and by its determinate laws 
 interpreting to us the movements not solely of our 
 own planets and comets, but of many of those nume- 
 rous double and multiple stars which the telescope 
 grasps and defines. Orbits and periods depending 
 upon this law — ' the pendulums of eternity,' as they 
 have been called — are calculated for worlds a million 
 times more remote from us than we are distant from 
 the sun. 
 
 In our own system Laplace has applied his ' Cal- 
 cul des Probabilites ' to the modes of motion of the 
 several planets and satellites ; and he expresses by the 
 ratio of four millions to unity the presumption of a 
 single original cause producing these motions. Such 
 presumption to human reason is equivalent to a cer- 
 tainty. No doubt, indeed, can disturb conclusions as to 
 unity of origin derived from these phenomena. Kone 
 but a single Creative Power, define it how we will, can 
 be concerned in evolving laws thus congruous, uni- 
 versal, and absolute. 
 
 Another argument, though less cogent, is furnished 
 by what may be called the sidereal series of the uni- 
 verse, ascending from our sun and planetary system to 
 
UJSITY OF THE CREATIVE POWER. 23 
 
 other suns and their sateUites or companions, disclosed 
 to us by the telescope — from these subordinate stars or 
 systems, scarcely numerable by man, to the Milky Way, 
 which embodies them all — and from this again to other 
 nebulous systems, whatever their nature, now counted 
 almost by thousands in the vault of space. The 
 relation here, as far as reason can compass objects 
 thus vast, is that of a Unity of Creative Power. 
 
 All this evidence comes from the universe without. 
 That derived from our own globe, though different in 
 the scale of the objects and actions concerned, is not 
 less conclusive. In its most general form (that which 
 we are now seeking to obtain) we find this evidence in 
 the mutual and uniform relations of the different kinds 
 of matter on the earth — relations inter se^ as well as to 
 those elemental forces of Heat, Light, Electricity, Gra- 
 vitation, &c. ever acting around or within them, under 
 precise laws and with mutual and constant equivalence 
 of effects. Thei whole series of chemical phenomena, 
 and especially of organic chemistry, as construed by the 
 atomic theory and the law of definite proportions, 
 gives continuous and complete proof of the Unity of 
 the scheme, complex though it be, to w^hich these 
 actions belong. One original source of power can 
 alone be concerned in effects so perfectly congruous 
 and co-ordinate. The farther we advance in the 
 science of molecular physics, the wider becomes the 
 scope of the evidence which retains its constancy, even 
 when thus derived from the most secret recesses of the 
 natural world. 
 
 The argument for Unity is the same when we look 
 
24 UNITY OF THE CREATIVE POWER. 
 
 to those elements and actions through which the 
 various forms of organic Hfe come into being, and 
 severally fulfil the conditions of their existence. The 
 typical characters so strongly marked in this great 
 scheme, equally among existing and fossil forms, show 
 a common power and intention pervading the whole. 
 The mutual adaptations, uses, and instincts of animal 
 life more especially, and the relations of this life to 
 the varying conditions of the outer world, all enforce 
 the same conclusion. It is not enfeebled by the doubts 
 now thrown on the origin and perpetuity of species. 
 If these be evolved, not by specific acts of creation, 
 but by successive changes from a few primitive types, 
 the argument still stands good for a single original 
 power, endowing organic life with that capacity for 
 progressive change which science is now seeking to 
 explore. 
 
 Neither does the mixture of seeming ills and im- 
 perfections in animal life on the earth annul the 
 conclusion at which we arrive. The good and the 
 evil, taking our imperfect judgment of what belongs 
 to these names, are closely interwoven in the same 
 work — whether from an unknown necessity, or from 
 mere contingency, or from some unseen higher pur- 
 pose, no natural philosophy has yet fully explained. 
 The question, in fact, merges in the higher one of the 
 Origin of Evil in the world — that problem which 
 has perplexed the wisest and most devout minds in all 
 ages. But whatever view be taken of it, we need not 
 recur to any Manichgean doctrine of an antagonistic 
 power to meet the difficulty. The argument we have 
 
UNITY OF THE CREATIVE POWER. 25 
 
 dwelt upon for the . Unity of creation fully suffices to 
 refute any such hypothesis, which could not indeed 
 solve the problem for us if adopted. 
 
 This argument, I may add, does not go a step 
 beyond the affirmation of unity. All that regards 
 time, material, and method in the acts of creation may 
 be put apart, as knowledge to be reached only rela- 
 tively and remotely. What human enquiry may 
 rightly seek to attain is a larger knowledge of pheno- 
 mena, and of those correlations among them which 
 go to estabHsh more general laws, and, by removing 
 anomalies, to give still higher conceptions of Unity in 
 the imi verse — lofty functions in themselves of human 
 reason, and sufficient in scope to employ the genius 
 and industry of ages to come. 
 
 X 
 
26 
 
 PLURALITY OF WORLDS— ARE OTHER PLANETS 
 INHABITED? 
 
 A QUESTION Dot of curiosity only, but, if capable of 
 being answered, even presumptively, one of profound 
 interest to our conceptions of the universe and of its 
 Creator. Life, physical and intellectual, is highest 
 among the wonders of creation. To gain the convic- 
 tion that it is not limited to the globe we inhabit, is to 
 enlarge our views of that Supreme Power which de- 
 signed and brought it into being. 
 
 Neither in the Old or New Testament do we find 
 a distinct answer to the question, though perhaps a 
 few inferential allusions to it. The same may be said 
 of the classical writers : Plato, Aristotle, Lucretius, 
 and Seneca, as far as I can recollect, are silent on the 
 subject. Pliny, who grasps at everything known or 
 imagined, is equally so. The explanation of this is 
 doubtless to be found in the grand error of all ancient 
 astronomy as to the locus standi of our globe in the 
 planetary system and universe at large. 
 
 The argument for life existing in the planets of 
 our system is summarily this. The earth, tenanted, 
 as we see it, by man and innumerable lower forms of 
 life, is but one in the series of satellites of the sun; 
 intermediate to the others in distance and size, but 
 without any marked specialty in its astronomical 
 
PLURALITY OF WORLDS. 27 
 
 relations. All are alike in general configuration, all 
 subject to the same laws of gravitation, revolution, 
 and rotation on axis.^ Solar light and heat are com- 
 mon to all, with diversities only of degree. Eeflected 
 light is conveyed to several of them, in some propor- 
 tion to their distance from the sun, and by the agency 
 of moons. 
 
 It is hardly conceivable that such physical relations 
 and resemblances as these should exist without the 
 presence of life, and intelligence also, in the worlds so 
 related to us. Can the earth be thus peopled with all its 
 various Hving forms, and the other planets be mere brute 
 globes of matter, with no breath of vitality upon them ? 
 The argument, as one of strong presumption, might 
 almost be vested in this simple question. If a single 
 case were taken for special illustration, it might be 
 that of Venus and the earth. The magnitude of the 
 two planets is almost exactly the same. The earth is 
 c seen from Venus, as Venus is by us ; the only differ- 
 ence depending on Venus being one-third nearer to 
 ^ the sun. The mass and density of both globes are 
 nearly alike. The time of rotation on axis differs by 
 forty minutes only. The larger reception of light and 
 heat by Venus, and the appendage of a moon to the 
 earth (facts not perhaps without relation to each other), 
 are the sole physical differences obvious to us between 
 the two planets. Can one of tliem be devoid of all 
 life, while on the other it is swarming so variously and 
 
 ^ In his ' Calcul des Probabilites/ Laplace shows that there are 
 4,000,000 to one in favour of the forty-three motions of rotation and 
 reyolution of planets and satellites from east to west being produced 
 by one and the same original cause. 
 
28 PLUEALITY OF WORLDS. 
 
 profusely, culminating through a long series of grada- 
 tions in the supremacy of man ? 
 
 The diversity in the physical conditions of the 
 several planets, great though it be, does not seriously 
 affect our conclusion. Many of these differences are 
 of degree only ; and even as regards the material com- 
 position of these great globes, recent discussions have 
 shown us that the same elementary matters exist 
 throughout, however various the manner of their con- 
 solidation or their proportion in each planet. But 
 whatever the physical diversities in parts of the system, 
 it is still a system, and brought into being by that 
 Power which, in endowing the earth with such various 
 faculties and forms of hfe, has almost attested to us 
 the same will and power directed to other worlds than 
 our own. The vast distance between Mercury and 
 Neptune is bridged over by intervening planets and 
 their satellite moons — the latter themselves a volume 
 of argument in the question. Is it likely that the 
 earth, intermediate in the series, and marked by no 
 obvious specialty of position or physical characters, 
 should alone have the prerogative of life upon it ? 
 
 The objection that to people the other planets with 
 living beings we must suppose very different endow- 
 ments from those which belong to hfe on the earth, 
 is one that goes far to answer itself. The full admis- 
 sion of this fact need in no way impair our belief. 
 We have but to look at the endless and wonderful 
 diversities of life which surround us here, and to the 
 changes from physical causes of which they are seve- 
 rally susceptible, to see that no limit can be set to 
 
PLURALITY OF WORLDS. 29 
 
 special adaptations, where the prevision and power to 
 adapt are so manifest to our reason. The various cH- 
 mates and conditions of the earth itself interpret to us 
 in their effects endless possibilities of existence in other 
 worlds than our OAvn. 
 
 The arguments which serve to this conclusion re- 
 garding the planets do not apply to that mighty central 
 globe, ' lo ministro maggior della natura,' which fulfils 
 the great function of keeping all in their orbits and 
 giving light and heat to all. We cannot prove or 
 presume anything beyond this, nor indeed conceive a 
 habitable world in this great focus of ilhmitable forces. 
 But the argument again opens upon us, when proceed- 
 ing further into the depths of space, and discovering, 
 among what we call the fixed stars, numerous systems 
 of suns and satelhtes, having kindred with our own in 
 the phenomena of gravitation and revolution. Tele- 
 scopic vision tells us distinctly of these wonderful and 
 complex relations in what to the naked eye are but 
 the single and immovable stars of heaven. The light 
 which solely gives us knowledge of their existence, 
 though taking years for its transit through intervening 
 space, reaches the earth with properties essentially the 
 same as the beam coming direct from the sun — not, 
 indeed, affording sensible heat, save in a few instances, 
 to the keen scrutiny of modern research, but yielding 
 photographs by its chemical action, and certain of 
 those spectrum hues, which tell of material elements in 
 those remote worlds analogous to, in fact identical 
 with, some of the components of our own globe. This 
 last wonderful attainment of human research is prolific 
 
30 PLURALITY OF WORLDS. 
 
 of suggestions as to that unity of creation which em- 
 braces in itself the argument we have in hand. 
 
 These proofs then are strong in presumption, though 
 less cogent than the argument as applied to the planets 
 of the solar system. It would be going back to the 
 very infancy of human intelligence to suppose these 
 innumerable stars, thus far known to us, to be mere 
 barren masses of unorganised matter, with no higher 
 destiny belonging to them. Can our conceptions of 
 the Deity, based upon what we see in our own little 
 world, justify any such conclusion? Theology may 
 be silent on the subject, but such silence need not 
 enthral those higher conceptions which astronomy 
 furnishes of the unity as well as grandeur of the 
 creation. 
 
 The only author who with any abihty seeks to 
 impugn the opinion I am defending, is my excellent 
 friend the late Master of Trinity. In his volume, 
 whimsically entitled the ' Plurality of Worlds,' he ably 
 urges all that can be said against it, dwelling especially 
 on the fact that the earth itself was left during in- 
 calculable ages as a lifeless globe, or maintaining only 
 those lowest conditions of life which, though members 
 of the series, and even agents in forming many of the 
 strata on which man has his abode, do yet feebly re- 
 present that higher vitality which now exists on our 
 globe. The argument thence drawn is simply this : If 
 the earth did thus exist through ages, why may not 
 the other planets remain in the same state to per- 
 petuity ? The question is best answered by another. 
 If the earth, passing through these preliminary stages. 
 
PLURALITY OF WORLDS. 31 
 
 has become, either by a designed method or by con- 
 jectured causes of change, the abode of the higher 
 animals and of man, why may not the other planets 
 have passed through the same or analogous conditions 
 and attained the same result ? Both questions are of 
 presumption only. The latter, I think, has greater 
 weight in the argument ; and we cannot reasonably 
 admit any dogma of ancient theology or inference from 
 Scriptural language, which some have brought into it, 
 to annul the conclusion so obtained. 
 
 Taking the whole problem in its simplest form, it 
 will be seen as one never to be solved by absolute 
 proof, but admitting of strong presumptive evidence, 
 which is likely to become still stronger with increased 
 knowledge of the physical conditions of the planets 
 themselves. The track of recent discovery has lain 
 in this direction, and no Hmit can yet be assigned to its 
 further pursuit. 
 
32 
 
 MATTER AND FORCE, IN PHYSICAL 
 PHENOMENA. 
 
 All physical science and philosophy are concentrated 
 in these two terms. They have furnished, of late more 
 especially, the text for much and various discussion — 
 discussion, to which the obscurity as well as grandeur 
 of the ultimate truths involved in them has given addi- 
 tional zest. The two words have been seized upon, 
 indeed, with a curious avidity, and made to sub- 
 serve speculations at once vague and incongruous. I 
 can count a dozen books, and many more articles, 
 which during the last few years have dealt with the 
 questions they involve. Some speculators (for specula- 
 tion it must still be called) merge matter wholly in 
 force. Others see force only through the conditions 
 of matter. Without assuming to add anything new on 
 the subject, I take it up as one on which I seek to get 
 some understanding of what has already come, or may 
 come, within the scope of human enquiry. 
 
 The need of a just definition of the two words is 
 that first felt. Force, or power, that acts; matter, 
 that which is seen, or sensibly known, to be acted 
 upon — these are the elements of the problem, but too 
 general in their expression to be of much service to us. 
 We are met in limine by questions hard of solution. 
 Is force really an entity of power distinct from matter ? 
 
MATTER AND FORCE, IN PHYSICAL PHENOMENA. 33 
 
 or is it but an abstraction, an expression for matter 
 under different modes of existence and action ? Or 
 speaking of what are termed forces severally — me- 
 chanical, chemical, calorific, electrical, &c. — seeing 
 that they are for the most part mutually convertible, 
 and under equivalents of power — for this power is never 
 extinguished — may there not be some yet undiscovered 
 unity for all, modified by the conditions under which 
 it acts, and possibly including even gravitation and 
 vital force in the one category? 
 
 Such questions carry us to the extreme verge of 
 physics, if not indeed beyond. They have perplexed 
 schools of philosophy in every age, and inevitably so. 
 Matter, the substratum of all that is present to the 
 senses, is seen at every moment to undergo changes 
 from powers, of which the senses give us no cogni- 
 sance. What are these unseen forces — call them 
 ^vvdfJLug, evi^ysia, vis viva, potential energy, plastic 
 force, Krafte, or whatever the diversities or the impo- 
 tence of language may suggest — which thus give move- 
 ment and change to the material world ? What is the 
 matter itself, thus acted upon? Is it something 
 brought into existence by a Creative Will of higher 
 ,date — or is it eternal in itself, and that with which the 
 Creator worked in evolving and giving laws to the 
 visible universe ? The questions thus denoted struck 
 the ancient philosophers as they do us, and were 
 answered with greater audacity from the absence of 
 those checks which inductive science imposes. The 
 terms to -Kcttryov and to TroioiJi/ briefly express the 
 groundwork of the problem in the Greek philosophy. 
 
M MATTER AND FORCE, IN PHYSICAL PHENOMENA. 
 
 Cicero and Seneca denote the points in question clearly 
 and compendiously. They have furnished food for 
 thought and speculation to our own age under the 
 stricter conditions of inductive philosophy. The en- 
 quiry, in truth, is pressed upon us as a necessity of our 
 reasoning faculties ; but it has become a privilege also, 
 by giving the mind access to higher laws and relations 
 than ever entered into the conceptions of ancient 
 philosophy. 
 
 To reciu? to the relation of Matter and Force as the 
 great question of all, we may at once put aside the 
 enquiry whether matter be eternal or created, as one 
 unapproachable by reason. Its existence through all 
 time, or its creation at a given time, are alike incom- 
 prehensible. Equally must be put aside all that con- 
 cerns the definition of matter in the abstract, and that 
 relation of its existence to the percipient mind, which 
 has been the metaphysical wrangle of ages. When 
 Mr. Mill says that matter may be defined as ' the per- 
 manent possibility of sensation,' we see, though dimly, 
 what he means, but gain little by the definition. For 
 all piu'poses of reason and research we must be content 
 to deal with its forms and properties, as they reach us, 
 through the senses, and convey perceptions to our 
 consciousness. Subject matter to metaphysical pressure, 
 and it is lost to human reason. Fortunately physical 
 science has not been led astray by these vagaries of 
 philosophy. It regards matter in a real sense, as made 
 up of parts or atoms of inconceivable minuteness and 
 mobihty — each atom, whatever its elementary nature, 
 having its individual properties and relations to others, 
 
MATTER AND FORCE, IN PHYSICAL PHENOMENA. 35 
 
 whether similar or different in kind — which properties 
 and relations brought into action by what we call the 
 forces of nature, give origin to all the motions, combi- 
 nations and forms of matter, living and lifeless, which 
 we see around us. Few of these general definitions in 
 science have much real value. That just given ex- 
 presses at least all the essential facts ; and if omitting 
 one recent doctrine, viz., that it belongs to all material 
 atoms to be ever in motion^ this omission is justified 
 by the impossibility of ever reaching the conclusion by 
 proofs. 
 
 If it be difficult to define Matter, not less difficult 
 is it to give an unexceptionable definition of Force. 
 The very word carries vdth it a harsh compulsion of 
 use. We cannot dispense with some such term in 
 physical science, nor find perhaps in common lan- 
 guage any that is better. The need is to express a 
 power, or powers — immaterial for aught we can affirm 
 to the contrary — by which matter is put and kept in 
 state of motion or change. Difficulties of conception, 
 ambiguities of language, and problems imperfectly 
 solved, meet us here at the very threshold. One such 
 question I have already noticed. Are these forces or 
 powers, engaged in the actions of matter (and we shall 
 see how numerous are the forms they assume), really 
 distinct from it? or are they but properties or con- 
 ditions of matter itself, evolved through the relations 
 and interchanges of its elementary parts, and mutually 
 convertible, so that action or force is never lost or 
 lessened in total amount, but simply translated from 
 one form to another ? Modern science shows a leaning 
 
 d2 
 
36 MATTER AND FORCE, IN PHYSICAL PHENOMENA. 
 
 towards the latter belief. Heat, for instance, is inter- 
 preted (long ago by partial conjecture) as one mode of 
 motion in the molecules of bodies, communicable in the 
 same form, or convertible into other forms of power, 
 with an exact mensurable equivalence of each and all. 
 This convertibility and equivalence lead us forward 
 to what seems to be a great natural truth. They ex- 
 press the principle, that force, whatever it intrinsically 
 be, is, like matter, never lost in the world — perhaps we 
 might say in the universe — around us. Translated or 
 altered in mode of action it may be, but not annihi- 
 lated. This is a vast and bold conclusion, yet so far 
 pressed upon us by experimental facts, that it cannot 
 logically be evaded. It moreover connects together 
 the different kinds or exponents of force by a strong 
 natural link — one expressive of some higher unity, to 
 which science is now more than ever tending. Heat, 
 electricity, chemical affinities, and the mechanical 
 powers come more especially under this connexion ; 
 and are subjected to formulas, which not only expound 
 but predict results. The indestructibility of matter is 
 an ancient tenet of philosophy ^ — that of force may be 
 called a discovery of our own time ; indicated indeed 
 by Newton, as a result of reason, but now amply at- 
 tested by experimental research. 
 
 * We gather from Plutarch a dogma of Pythagoras : — 
 . . piiatQ ovdet'hc; iarlv tKaarovj 
 'AXXa fiovov fi'i^iQ Tf Sid\\a^i<; Tt fnytrTOJr, 
 
 To this may be added the well-known lines of Lucretius : — 
 ' Hand igitur redit ad Nihilum res ulla, sed omnes 
 Discidio redeunt in corpora Material j ' 
 
 and elsewhere he states that the Summa of Matter remains ever the 
 same. 
 
MATTER AND FORCE, IN PHYSICAL PHENOMENA. 37 
 
 The subjection of botli matter and force, in the 
 common comprehension of the terms, to this great law 
 of indestructibihty, and the correlation of certain 
 forces in every act of physical change, press upon us 
 the conclusion that they are in their very nature a 
 necessity to each other — a phrase the most positive we 
 are entitled to use in a matter thus perplexing to all 
 philosophy. Force, apart from something on which it 
 acts, is an unmeaning word. Boscovich, as well as 
 some later philosophers, have sought indeed to give to 
 it a more distinct identity ; and to regard all material 
 phenomena in reference to centres or lines of force as 
 existences per se. Such mode of regarding the subject 
 has a determinate value, considered as a method of 
 enquiry. In Hke manner, motion may be dealt with 
 mathematically, apart from matter or force. But 
 neither in the so-called science of kinematics, nor in 
 the doctrines of abstract force, do we find a solution 
 of those profound problems which these several rela- 
 tions involve. We cannot separate, save for especial 
 purposes of enquiry, things thus closely and indissolubly 
 bound together in the natural world. 
 
 I have spoken of this relation of matter and force 
 as one of mutual necessity of existence. It has been 
 sought by some, as already stated, to carry the identity 
 farther, and to consider each form of force as a par- 
 ticular mode or condition of matter. This conception, 
 if it could be generahsed as a truth, would bring us 
 nearer to the kernel of the question. But we are still 
 far from such attainment, and fresh obstacles occur at 
 every step. Granting that the states and changes of 
 
38 MATTER AND FORCE, IN PHYSICAL PHENOMENA. 
 
 matter are the sole exponents of what we call forces, 
 we still cannot annul the notion of power, other than the 
 matter itself^ as initiating and evolving these actions. 
 Eefine upon the atomic theory to the uttermost, and 
 show the mutual convertibility of forces by the different 
 material media through which they act — high achieve- 
 ments these of our own time — the question still presses 
 upon us. How are initiated^ how maintained, these 
 various and unceasing motions of matter, in masses or 
 molecules, lifeless or organised into life ? Would they 
 not, if depending solely on causes intrinsic to matter 
 itself, neutralise each other in process of time, and sub- 
 side into absolute repose ? Must we not thenJook 
 to some cause of action from without — some power or 
 powers to which no material attributes can be assigned, 
 and which may possibly operate in other effects, not 
 yet grasped by human observation ? 
 
 It is hardly possible to deal with this subject other- 
 wise than interrogatively. Take heat, for example — a 
 power familiar in one form or other to every moment 
 of our existence, and closely connected with the mole- 
 cular theory, both by thermometric conditions and 
 by the more obscure conditions of radiant, specific, and 
 latent heat. If, in comphance with modern views, we 
 regard heat as one mode of motion of matter, we come 
 upon the question, — whence originated the movements, 
 propagated thus endlessly, in every form and degree, 
 by and through the atoms or molecules of the material 
 world ? Is it a condition native to, and embodied in, 
 matter, and expressed to our senses and instruments 
 in the various acts by which calorific equilibrium is 
 
MATTER AND FORCE, IN PHYSICAL PHENOMENA. 39 
 
 broken or restored ? Or must we, as stated above, 
 bring in some cause, extraneous to matter itself, as 
 originating those atomic motions which we characterise 
 as the phenomena of heat ? To go to the great foun- 
 tain of heat in the sun, is but to shift the question a 
 step higher. And it is not a mere verbal question, 
 since we cannot construct a theory of heat without 
 recognising, not solely the modes of motion of matter, 
 but also the existence of forces on which these motions 
 depend. It might almost seem here as if reason got 
 into a trap of its own making. We call in powers 
 from without, to which matter is subordinate, though 
 necessary for their manifestation ; and invoking these 
 powers, we are left with the problem of their nature 
 unsolved. 
 
 This illustration presents fresh difficulties when we 
 come to the phenomena of latent heat, and propound 
 the view, now generally adopted, that heat, as a force, 
 imbibed originally from the sun by vegetable life on 
 the earth, and following the conversion of the latter 
 into coal, has been stored up latently for untold ages in 
 a mineral form, to be developed in the furnaces of our 
 own day. We cannot disprove this, or bring other 
 more conceivable solution of this great natural pro- 
 blem. But when we speak of heat as a force consist- 
 ing integrally of certain atomic motions in bodies, 
 which force may be pent up for ages within these 
 atoms, ever ready for extrication, we are boun^ to 
 look fairly at the abstruse conceptions these things in- 
 volve ; if indeed they can be truly understood in any 
 other sense than as a method of expressing phenomena. 
 
40 MATTER AND FORCE, IN PHYSICAL PHENOMENA. 
 
 The word Force, with all the adjuncts that have been 
 impressed upon it, still looms before us, as a mysterious 
 symbol, rather than an intelligible reahty. 
 
 What I have said as to heat applies alike to other 
 forms or agents of force, into which it is more or less 
 directly convertible. The manifestations of these powers 
 are in matter, but we cannot affirm that they are iden- 
 tical with or originate in matter. In truth, the material 
 theory of heat, so ably expounded by Tyndall, em- 
 bodies more of proof than we can bring to any other 
 of the so-called natural forces. In chemical actions, 
 indeed, including crystallisation, we interpret the phe- 
 nomena through atomic motions and changes, strictly 
 defined by laws of number, proportion and figure. 
 Though we know that light as an agent pervades and 
 afiects matter in its intimate atomic structure, the evi- 
 dence here is less complete than that regarding heat. 
 Of electricity as a force I have spoken in another of 
 these papers. In all these innumerable and subtle 
 phenomena of attraction, repulsion, polarisation, &c. 
 we see a general concurrence of actions, derived ft'om 
 what we must call force, in default of other and better 
 name. If this be primarily resident in the atoms them- 
 selves, still must we recognise it by some name as a 
 principle of motion and change. 
 
 Mechanical force, whether derived from gravita- 
 tion or other cause, has been a favourite topic even 
 from the infancy of science — partly from its practical 
 value, partly because lending itself to certain abstruse 
 conceptions, grateful to the genius of ancient philo- 
 sophy ; and indeed descending, by a sort of compulsion, 
 
MATTER AND FORCE, IN PHYSICAL PHENOMENA. 41 
 
 to our own time. The terms, potential energy, actual 
 or dynanic energy, tension, vis viva, &c. (Spanne- 
 Krafte and lebendige Krafte) express conditions which 
 we must needs admit, by whatever name we desig- 
 nate them. I have already alluded to the phrase of 
 latent heat, and the difficulty it involves is the same 
 when it is applied to power or energy of any kind, 
 stored up in a quiescent state for development into future 
 action. We know from ample proof the infinite minute- 
 ness of the ultimate parts of matter, and also the enor- 
 mous energy of the forces on which their atomic actions 
 depend. But while recognising these truths as neces- 
 sary to any theory whatsoever, they give us no conception 
 in what such latent power consists ; whether in some 
 physical condition of the atoms themselves, or in some 
 unseen and nameless element of force to which matter 
 in all its forms is subjected. These questions and com- 
 plex relations, which it perplexes language to express, 
 might well be deemed Id scru table, were it not a wrong 
 to science, already advanced beyond so many seeming 
 limits, to suppose it incapable of reaching higher gene- 
 ralisations than those now attained. 
 
 In looking to the chance of bringing the several 
 natural forces to the unity of some such higher law, 
 we cannot omit consideration of two of them which 
 stand in some sort apart from the rest, though ever 
 acting in concurrence with, or relation to, them. I 
 mean gravitation and the vital force — powers widely 
 different in themselves, both unknown to us in their in- 
 trinsic nature and origin, but well-defined, respectively. 
 
42 MATTER AND FORCE, IN PHYSICAL PHENOMENA. 
 
 by their wonderful phenomena, and the laws which 
 govern them. 
 
 Of vital force — that which gives form, function, 
 and transmission of like qualities to successive living 
 organisations — I have spoken in others of these papers, 
 for the topic is one closely connected with some of the 
 most profound questions of our time. The term vital 
 principle has been reprehended as denoting what is un- 
 proven and needless, and certain writers have banished 
 it from their philosophy. But that there is some power 
 or force, name it as we will, working upon matter as 
 its subject and instrument in the creation and mainte- 
 nance of the various forms of life, cannot be denied 
 without at once casting aside all argument on the sub- 
 ject. To say that a nisus^ or power inherent in matter 
 itself, can create a series of living beings, of definite 
 forms and functions, is either a mere naked assertion 
 utterly without proof, or a virtual admission of vital 
 force under another form of words. The generation of 
 life from life is, and perhaps ever will be, one of the in- 
 solvable mysteries of philosophy. But that it involves 
 some special power distinct from matter, and not iden- 
 tical with any of the other forces known to us, must, in 
 my mind, be taken as a truth furnishing a fair resting- 
 place for our present knowledge. If asked what this 
 vital force is, we may answer by the counter-questions, 
 What is gravitation ? What that force which puts the 
 ether of space into those marvellous movements which 
 we receive as light and heat? These problems are 
 all of the same character, including questions with 
 which no reasoning or conception can cope. 
 
MATTER AND FORCE, IN PHYSICAL PHENOMENA. 43 
 
 And among these questions comes one of deep in- 
 terest, closely connected with the theory of vital force, 
 viz., the force of the will, an entity not less real in its 
 action on matter than those other unseen powers which 
 we have been denoting. Whatever definition of force 
 be adopted, this comes integrally under it. Nothing is 
 gained in the way of distinction by bringing the word 
 spiritual into the argument. This presents the mystery 
 of force under another phrase, but leaves still unre- 
 solved that problem as to nature and origin which re- 
 gards force in its every form. The word looms before 
 us as an incomprehensible abstraction, yet, logically 
 considered, as much a reality as the matter on which 
 it acts. 
 
 Much has been thought and written on the subject 
 of gravitation ; and this is not surprising, seeing that it 
 brings the relation of matter and force into the most 
 simple and exphcit form. In this simplicity, however, 
 there still lies the same profound obscurity. A force 
 pervading the universe, and so known in its great laws, 
 that through them the astronomer can predict the 
 existence and place of planets yet unseen, is neverthe- 
 less hidden from us in its origin, in its manner of trans- 
 mission through space, and in its mode of relation to 
 the matter on which it so universally acts. One might 
 describe it as a power inherent and incorporate in mat- 
 ter itself, were it not that such terms are little more 
 than a shelter for our ignorance. We can more clearly 
 denote it, as a force of comparatively httle energy 
 where minute particles are concerned, but deriving 
 from concentration of units of power that higher energy 
 
44 MATTER AND FORCE, IN PHYSICAL PHENOMENA. 
 
 whicli renders it the great motor in the universe. It 
 combines with, or is modified by, other motor forces, 
 as in the rotation of the earth, but we cannot corre- 
 late it with any of those which exhibit polarities or 
 dualities of action, and are mutually convertible under 
 equivalents of change. Gravitation still stands alone 
 in the simple sublimity of its one great law. If we 
 ever get nearer to a true theory of the power, it will 
 probably be through some new knowledge of the 
 atomic conditions of matter. To these infinitesimal 
 parts, and their attractions and rej^ulsions, we may best 
 look for the source of a power universal and perma- 
 nent ; and however vague the conception, there is none 
 other to which we can attach belief The theory 
 of Mosolti (anticipated by (Epinus) taking this founda- 
 tion, sought in mathematical forms to derive gravity as 
 a residual power from a balance of attractions and re- 
 pulsions, with the postulate of an electric atmosphere 
 to each atom. This hypothesis, like that of Lesage, 
 has lain dormant ever since. It wants the evidence of 
 facts, though justified, I think, in thus seeking through 
 individual atoms the origin of a power so manifestly 
 derived from the concentration of individual forces. 
 
 But even could proof be pushed thus far, there still 
 remains the crucial question. What is the power pro- 
 ducing these atomic conditions or actions, which, con- 
 centrated more or less, we call gravitation ? It is in 
 effect the same question already applied to other 
 modes of force. Are they actual powers extraneous 
 to matter though acting upon it ? Or may we gene- 
 ralise yet farther, in supposing a single force in the 
 
MATTER AND FORCE, IN PHYSICAL PHENOMENA. 45 
 
 natural world, modified by the matter on which it 
 acts ? We pass here, however, into the region of meta- 
 physical subtleties, and the most daring hypothesis is' 
 lost in a wilderness of words. Yet it is a tempting 
 track ; and the most sober philosophers have exercised 
 themselves on the questions collateral to it. How is 
 this force of gravitation concentrated, and how pro- 
 pagated through space ; giving power to the sun to 
 contain the planets in their orbits, and bring back the 
 comet from its distant aphehon — agitating and raising 
 the oceans of our own globe by an influence thus un- 
 seen and remote ? The law of proportion to distance 
 we know ; but this tells us nothing beyond the pre- 
 sence of the power, whatever it be, at each and every 
 point of intervening space. Newton strongly expresses 
 the impossibility of conceiving that one body can act 
 upon another without the interposition of something to 
 convey continuity of force. To satisfy this demand for 
 a material medium for other elemental forces, the aid 
 of ether has been invoked — a mighty invocation, since 
 as regards gravitation and light at least, it must ex- 
 tend to all known celestial space. On this subject I 
 have written in another of these papers. It may well 
 be termed a transcendental branch of science, compris- 
 ing some of the most profound problems an which 
 human reason can exercise itself. 
 
 I have spoken above of atomic or molecular attrac- 
 tions and repulsions, and I recur to the latter of these 
 terms, as indicating another of those questions which 
 perplex the theory of forces tovour understanding. 
 We speak of the attraction of gravitation as a force. 
 
46 MATTER AND FORCE, IN PHYSICAL PHENOMENA. 
 
 Must we not apply the same term to those repulsions 
 which occur in the material world — most obviously in 
 the atomic actions and changes of matter, and in elec- 
 tric and magnetic phenomena ; but even, as we have 
 some reason to suppose, in cosmical changes beyond 
 the limits of our own globe ? Boscovich admitted this 
 as a part of his theory of forces, and some later phy- 
 sicists have followed him in the same view. Other 
 forms of power, again, we designate by this one short 
 word, so familiar in use, so difficult of scientific defini- 
 tion. The centrifugal force, though defined only as 
 an antagonism, must still be admitted into reality as 
 such. The force of cohesion, denoting perhaps only 
 one mode of action of a larger power, must yet be 
 recognised as an exponent of phenomena which cannot 
 otherwise be understood. 
 
 The difficulties thus pressing upon every abstract 
 conception of force in the universe are not abated 
 when we bring the question to particular physical 
 questions — such, for instance, as the velocity involved 
 in the action of forces. We know from astronomical 
 facts, with the recent concurrence of actual experi- 
 ment, the velocity of those undulations which bring 
 light and heat to the earth. We know that the velo- 
 city of electrical transmission, and therefore of mag- 
 netic force, has a close parity with this wonderful rate 
 of motion of light. But though transcending all 
 human conception, we are compelled, if adopting the 
 conclusions of Laplace, to suppose an incomparably 
 greater velocity in the force of gravitation. Time, in 
 truth, is virtually ajinulled in estimates of this nature ; 
 
MATTER AND FORCE, IN PHYSICAL PHENOMENA. 47 
 
 and instantaneous transmission offers itself as a phrase 
 of readier adoption, though not relieving us from the 
 necessity of admitting a medium of transmission, and a 
 rate of propagation through it. 
 
 Eeading over what I have written, I am more than 
 ever impressed with the conviction that we cannot deal 
 with this subject of force otherwise than as a method 
 of . expounding material phenomena. That there are 
 powers (or I rather willingly say, Power) at work, 
 distinct from matter itself, can hardlv be denied. But 
 human reason is incompetent to grasp in their entirety 
 these great problems of the natural world. We record 
 innumerable appearances attesting the relations of 
 matter and force ; and determine certain primary con- 
 ditions necessary to their development ; and research, 
 thus directed, will doubtless attain yet higher results. 
 But speculations which discard these sober methods, 
 and seek to enter per saltum into the secrets of nature 
 and creation, generally substitute words for realities, 
 and are for the most part upset by the progress of 
 science itself It is a wise saying of Pascal, ' L'univers 
 nous ecrase. C'est le privilege de I'homme de savoir 
 qu'il est ecrase.' 
 
48 
 
 ON MATTER, FORCE, AND MOTION IN SPACE. 
 
 Though this topic has close kindred with that of the 
 preceding paper, it embraces certain special questions 
 in relation to the great phenomena of the natural 
 world, which this general title may serve to designate. 
 In using the three words, Matter, Motion, and Space, 
 we touch upon the most profound problems of physical 
 science, verging in part on metaphysics, yet open to 
 research under those stricter methods which belong to 
 the inductive philosophy of our day. The expression 
 of ' matter moving in space ' includes actions which 
 range from the movements of suns and planets in the 
 seeming void of the universe, to those motions and 
 changes which pervade matter in its ultimate atomic 
 forms, and which are possible only through this in- 
 finitesimal minuteness. The unity of science requires, 
 even now, that these phenomena, however seemingly 
 diverse, should be brought into some common relation. 
 And the connexion so required is ever becoming closer 
 and more apparent. 
 
 Nevertheless, parts of the subject may be viewed 
 separately, and the remarks I here make relate chiefly 
 to those motions in miter space which connect our 
 globe with other portions of the universe, and more 
 especially with the planetary system to which we 
 
ON MATTER, FORCE, AND MOTION IN SPACE. 49 
 
 belong, a field large enough to expatiate in, even 
 without regard to its continuity with space and worlds 
 beyond. 
 
 And first, as to space — that great recipient and 
 container of all things which are the subject of human 
 sense, and, through the senses, of human science. 
 Putting aside the metaphysics of the Infinite, as thus 
 applied, and the old subtleties of the plenum and 
 vacuum controversy, the question presses upon us in 
 this form : ' What is contained in space, beyond, and 
 apart from, those aggregates of matter, great or small, 
 of which our senses and other means of observation 
 give us knowledge ? ' As early as the times of Em- 
 pedocles and Aristotle the question of the to ^sra^v 
 — some medium between the objects of sense and 
 the percipient being — forced itself upon philosophy. 
 Modern science, dating here, as in so many other cases, 
 from the era of Newton, has given more definite form 
 to the enquiry ; and taking certain of the great powers 
 of nature as interpreters, has shown from these the 
 necessity of supposing a material medium as .the sole 
 conceivable means of their transmission through space. 
 
 What there is of theory in this matter has been 
 well borne out by observation and experiment. The 
 interplanetary spaces of our own system, as the most 
 accessible and fi:uitful field of research, have been 
 zealously worked upon, with results which rank among 
 the most wonderful attainments of science. Light, 
 heat, and gravitation, those great elemental forces or 
 powers, in the relations they establish between the sun 
 and the earth, first gave a scientific character to the 
 
 E 
 
50 ON MATTER, FORCE, AND MOTION IN SPACE. • 
 
 question, ' What is contained in space ? ' It was seen, 
 under a sound philosophy, that the transmission of 
 these powers from distant sources — as from the globe 
 of the sun — and their modes of action on terrestrial 
 matter could only be explained by supposing a medium 
 through which power and action are conveyed. The 
 same necessity leads to the belief that this medium 
 must be material — a conviction which can only be 
 escaped by affirming the case to be one incomprehen- 
 sible altogether. 
 
 But physical science does not submit to be thus 
 summarily treated. The instances are numerous where 
 natural phenomena are interpreted by numerical ex- 
 pressions of space and time, and by modes of action, 
 which no conception can follow, yet where conclusions 
 are attained of almost mathematical certainty. If 
 instances were needed, they might well be drawn from 
 the marvellous divisibility of matter as attested by its 
 atomic conditions — still more from the wonderful facts 
 on which is based the undulatory theory of light. It 
 is from the latter phenomena more especially that we 
 deduce the necessity for a medium capable of receiving 
 and transmitting movements of undulations or vibra- 
 tions — conditions which matter alone can be conceived 
 to fulfil. Such medium must from the same necessity 
 occupy the total space between the propelhng bodies 
 and those recipient of the motions they conveyed ; and 
 in the case of light, at least, this conclusion carries us 
 beyond our solar system to that universe of space, 
 tenanted by other suns, and systems of suns, which 
 send their light (if not heat also) to the earth, by the 
 
ON MATTER, FORCE, AND MOTION IN SPACE. 51 
 
 self-same laws of transmission. We are stopt in limine 
 in this research, and the undulatory theory falls from 
 under us, unless recognising some medium through 
 which these laws may have effect.^ 
 
 The question then arises, ' What is this medium 
 thus universal through space, and how best to be 
 defined ? ' We assume it to be material fi:'om the 
 necessity just stated, and the term Ether has been 
 adopted to satisfy, provisionally at least, the need of a 
 name. From the senses we obtain no direct informa- 
 tion as to its existence or properties, and the indirect 
 conclusions of reason are drawn from a limited source. 
 Imponderable we may call it, only in the sense that 
 we cannot weigh it, since, if truly material, we must 
 presume it subject to the common law of gravitation. 
 We may affirm that as a material medium it is of in- 
 finite tenuity — the matter composing it being probably 
 simple and elementary in kind, and its atomic parts (for 
 we must needs so name them) of such perfect mobility 
 as to convey the most complex and dehcate undulations 
 impressed upon them. Under the same view we may 
 speak of the intense elasticity of the medium we are 
 seeking to comprehend. On this point, and in regard 
 to the existence of a self-repulsive force among the 
 ultimate particles of ether, various hypotheses have 
 been proposed, some of them, as those of Mosotti, 
 aiming at a mathematical form. But no laws have 
 
 * Aristotle, speaking of the to /xtra^w, adds, r) did tovtov kIvijoiq iarl 
 rj TTOiovaa to bpav. 
 
 The experiments of Balfour Stewart, indicating a certain heating 
 effect on a disk of aluminium rapidly rotated in an air-pump vacuum, 
 require repetition before being brought in direct proof of a material ether. 
 
 E 2 
 
52 ON MATTER, FORCE, AND MOTION IN SPACE. 
 
 been reached, save such as are based on a specula- 
 tive foundation, and therefore inadmissible into pure 
 science. 
 
 Another condition may more safely be assumed 
 regarding ether, viz., that it is everywhere equal in 
 quality and manner of distribution through space, ex- 
 cept v^hen coming into connexion with matter of 
 grosser forms. This condition, though not always 
 regarded, is seemingly essential to the functions 
 which ether is invoked to sustain. A medium un- 
 equal in density or mobihty of its parts, or fluctuating 
 in other of its properties, could hardly fulfil the con- 
 ditions essential to the theory of light. And the same 
 remark applies to the other offices for which we in- 
 voke this medium of ether, as the sole method of 
 expounding the actions and influences upon each other 
 of bodies widely remote in space, and that retardation 
 in the motion of certain comets which the keen eye of 
 modern astronomy has revealed to us. 
 
 Justified in speculating thus far on the endowments 
 of ether, as the occupant of space, we can scarcely go 
 farther without forcing that barrier which, if passed at 
 all, can only be so by patient progress of research. 
 Mathematical analysis bridges over many -chasms, and 
 tells us under what conditions a given elastic medium 
 may fulfil the functions we attribute to ether. But it 
 does not enable us to conceive the infinitesimal minute- 
 ness and mobility of the atoms concerned in these 
 actions, or to comprehend their elementary nature. It 
 tells us nothing of those interstitial spaces which must 
 co-exist with atoms to give them free motion and elas- 
 
ON MATTER, FORCE, AKD MOTION IN SPACE. 53 
 
 ticity, and which become a new vanishing-point to our 
 reason.^ Nor does it touch that more fundamental 
 question, namely, the actual nature of that mysterious 
 Power which gives origin and impulse to these won- 
 derful waves of ether, interpreted to us by light, heat, 
 and chemical phenomena. 
 
 Difficulties of this kind are in nowise lessened when 
 regarding ether, not merely as the medium of propa- 
 gating impulses through outer space, but as inter- 
 penetrating and permeating other forms of matter, 
 such as our atmosphere and the various grosser bodies 
 on the earth. The phenomena of light, as expounded 
 by experiment and by mathematical enquiry into the 
 laws of refraction, polarisation, transmission, &c. — en- 
 quiry so searching as in some cases to have anticipated 
 results yet unseen — all compel the admission of this 
 behef, which conception vainly seeks to realise.^ The 
 atomic elements of luminiferous ether and of the more 
 palpable forms of matter — solid, fluid, or gaseous — 
 which ether pervades, are alike beyond the reach of 
 the boldest hypothesis. 
 
 In denoting the ether of space, as the medium for 
 transmission of power or motion from one part of the 
 
 ^ The question whetlier matter can exist contimumsly — that is, with- 
 out parts or interstices — is so far removed from all possibility of proof 
 that it leads to little more than a play upon words. To suppose the affir- 
 mative might solve some difficulties, but would engender others. All 
 analogy from what we know is against it. 
 
 * No science is more ennobled than Optics by the names attached to it. 
 Those of Newton, Hooke, and Huyghens have foremost place in date ; 
 but the present century has carried enquiry far beyond all prior limits, 
 and the labours of Young, Fresnel^ Arago, Herschel, Brewster, Wheat- 
 stone, Hamilton, Foucault, &c. have resulted in discoveries unsurpassed 
 in any other branch of science. 
 
54 ON MATTER, FORCE, AND MOTlOxX IN SPACE. 
 
 universe to another, we do but give scanty description 
 of the functions it is required to fulfil. The beam of 
 solar light thus translated by a series of pulses rapid 
 beyond conception in time and sequence, is in itself 
 the most wonderful of compounds. Newton, full of 
 the discovery he had just accomplished of the solar 
 spectrum, quaintly describes it as ' the oddest, if not 
 the most considerable, detection which hath hitherto 
 been made in the operations of nature.' The more 
 perfect analysis of this spectrum, now attained, has 
 disclosed to us not solely the different physical pro- 
 perties of the vibrations producing the different colours, 
 but also those invisible rays which by their respective 
 refrangibihties evolve heat and chemical power — these 
 latter actions attaining their maximum respectively 
 beyond the opposite extremities of the luminous spec- 
 trum. Then came the further complexity of those 
 numerous dark lines in this luminous portion, from 
 which was inferred the non-emission of waves of colour 
 corresponding to these lines — a naked inference now 
 clothed with a positive cause. But the knowledge of 
 the cause thus acquired, marking one of the most 
 extraordinary steps in physical science, does in nowise 
 lessen the wonder of these great natural phenomena. 
 Putting aside the unsolved question as to the nature 
 of the primary propelling power — (if we say it is the 
 sun we do but screen the difficulty) — we have to look 
 to our ether as the sole conveyance for these multi- 
 tudinous waves, thus complex in their properties as 
 expressed by their various action on matter, but com- 
 plex also in the act and manner of their propagation. 
 
ON MATTER, FORCE, AND MOTION IN SPACE. 55 
 
 seeing that the modes of undulation, as regards both 
 time and space, are different for the different coloured 
 rays, and still more divergent in those which evoke 
 heat and chemical effects. Add to these conditions 
 the actual velocity of hght (185,000 miles in a second), 
 the yet more inconceivable frequency of the oscillations 
 transmitting it, and the nature of these vibrations — 
 transverse to the direction of impulse — and then bring 
 the phenomena thus denoted to the conception of a 
 material medium evolving them through all time with- 
 out change or interruption, and we have this great 
 natural problem, the occupation of space, fairly before 
 us for contemplation. 
 
 Still taking our illustrations from light, we have to 
 encounter the fact that this great agent in the universe 
 is transmitted to us, possessed of the same properties, 
 i.e.^ is transmitted to us in the same way, from innumer- 
 able stars, single or aggregated into groups or nebulaB, 
 the light from each one propagated in all directions 
 through surrounding space. How is this endless inter- 
 mingling of oscillations in the medium of transmission 
 compatible with the individuality and clearness of the 
 images they severally convey to us ? Or, giving the 
 question its greatest generality, how do these undula- 
 tions, issuing, primary or reflected, from every luminous 
 body whatsoever, within or without our sphere, traverse 
 space in all directions without conflicting, so as to in- 
 termix and confuse sensible objects to the eye? The 
 undulations of sound offer some important analogies 
 here. But it is the higher prerogative of mathematics 
 to have faced these difficulties, and through methods 
 
56 OK" MATTER, FORCE, AND MOTIOX IN SPACE. 
 
 applicable to the whole theory of undulations to have 
 attained conclusions which no common reasoning or 
 experiment could reach — methods which render the 
 very multiplicity of the actions involved an exponent 
 of their congruity and constancy. There is a certain 
 analogy here to those researches of Lagrange and La- 
 place, which submit even the secular perturbations of 
 the planetary system to a principle of mutual compen- 
 sation, acting through vast periods of time, but ever 
 tending to maintain the order and permanence of the 
 whole. It is by researches and results such as these 
 that man may be said to be raised above his humanity. 
 But the ether of space must be looked to for other 
 functions beyond the transmission of light, and its ad- 
 juncts of calorific and actinic or chemical rays. Science 
 taxes it still further as the possible, though improved, 
 medium for transmitting the forces of gravitation and 
 magnetism through space. We can only conceive the 
 propagation of these forces by intervention of matter. 
 Newton held this explicitly as to gravitation. Every- 
 thing we know of the magnetic or electric element 
 connects this also with matter, and by far more com- 
 plex relations of evolution, conduction, induction, and 
 chemical action. Gravitation, to our present know- 
 ledge, stands alone among the great forces of nature. 
 If it be ever brought into correlation with other powers, 
 I am inclined to beheve that the magnetic element will 
 be the first to come into this conjunction, with the 
 possible intervention of ether as a part of such correla- 
 tion. I incline the more to this speculation from its 
 concurrence with a persuasion I have long held, that if 
 
ON MATTER, FORCE, AND MOTION IN SPACE. 57 
 
 there be any special material element producing the 
 phenomena of electricity and magnetism, that element 
 will be found in the ether of which we now speak — 
 occupying not solely the regions of space around us, 
 but permeating the grosser forms of matter, and in 
 their conjunction undergoing changes of which electri- 
 city may be one manifestation. All this is pure hypo- 
 thesis at present, and insusceptible of proof ; but that a 
 closer approximation exists among those forces than 
 has been yet discovered, is one of those presumptions 
 well warranted by the whole course of modern en- 
 quiry.^ 
 
 In any case, however, if gravitation and magnetism 
 be transmitted forces, we cannot well look elsewhere 
 than to ether, provisionally so called, as the mode of 
 transmission. A necessary existence to the explanation 
 of other phenomena, we cannot bring into conjunction 
 with it another occupant of interplanetary space, the 
 properties of which as a medium could be even -more 
 inconceivable, thus blended, than those we assign to 
 ether alone. As regards gravitation, indeed, we have 
 one difficulty to surmount, which if accepting the pre- 
 mises, may well be deemed insuperable. Laplace has 
 concluded from certain considerations that this attractive 
 force must have velocity of transmission some milhon 
 times that of light — an expression which plunges us at 
 once in the gulf of the Infinite, forcing us to regard 
 this wonderful power, acting unceasingly in the uni- 
 
 * In tBe 6tli and 7tli Definitions of the ' Principia,' Newton especially 
 uses the magnet to illustrate some of the fundamental laws of gravita- 
 tion. 
 
58 ON MATTER, FOECE, AND MOTION IN SPACE. 
 
 verse, on suns and atoms of matter, as a solitary mys- 
 tery, unapproachable by the reason of man. Yet, if 
 transmitted at all, some medium must be concerned in 
 the transmission ; and we may best invoke the aid of 
 that which brings to us the hght of sun and stars, and 
 interpenetrates all matter around us. The problem is 
 a sublime one, whether ever to be solved or not. 
 
 Eesearch has been so largely given to the pheno- 
 mena of magnetism, that some more complete theory 
 might have been expected of its relations to space. But 
 though experiments tell us of lines and curves of mag- 
 netic force, in proximity to the bodies from which it is 
 obtained, we cannot yet carry direct evidence to spaces 
 beyond. Speculation, however, as to magnetic con- 
 nexions of the sun and earth has been sanctioned 
 by various recent observations, which are still in pro- 
 gress. The phenomena observed are in part at least of 
 periodical character, and so blended with terrestrial 
 magnetism, that time and a very copious average of 
 observations are required to sift and verify the results. 
 Assuming, however, the bare fact of electric relations 
 existing between distant bodies in space — and the as- 
 sumption is fairly warranted — and knowing this element 
 to have mensurable motions in time, closely akin to 
 those of light, we are again brought to our hypo- 
 thetical ether as the medium of transmission — adding 
 thereby to the complexity of its functions, yet em- 
 barrassing the reason less than would the hypothesis 
 of another agent of transmission. 
 
 It is a grand conception, or rather conclusion, 
 of modern science, which thus makes ether — an 
 
ON MATTER, FORCE, AND MOTION IN SPACE. 59 
 
 exquisitely subtle material medium — the occupant of 
 space throughout the universe. The unprofitable ques- 
 tions oi ponderable and imponderable are put aside by 
 the conviction that such medium is necessary to the 
 existence of recognised phenomena. But of the inter- 
 planetary spaces, those with which we have most con- 
 cern, ether is not the sole occupant. Eecent observa- 
 tions, eveiy day augmenting upon us, show the presence 
 of matter in motion, under different forms of aggrega- 
 tion, in these interspaces ; subject doubtless to the 
 general laws which govern the planets and satellites, 
 but with special anomalies not yet fully explored. The 
 various phenomena of meteors, some of them seemingly 
 connected with rings of nebulous matter having peri- 
 odical revolutions round the sun — comets, zodiacal 
 light, aerolites, &c. — all attest the large presence of 
 matter in this ethereal domain ; the residue, it may be, 
 of those successive condensations from which we sup- 
 pose the different bodies of the solar system to have 
 derived their several forms and place in the heavens. 
 Such intervening material elements, we have much pre- 
 sent reason to believe, do not differ greatly from those 
 familiar to us on earth. But whatever their nature, 
 they doubtless have definite physical relations to the 
 medium in which they move. The phenomena of cer- 
 tain comets afford evidence of this, while at the same 
 time furnishing argument for the existence of the 
 medium itself. 
 
 We have hitherto been regarding chiefly what may 
 be termed the ether of outer-space. Every difficulty 
 is augmented when we regard it in closer connexion 
 
GO ON MATTER, FORCE, AND MOTION IN SPACE. 
 
 with terrestrial matter. Look at all we have to con- 
 ceive when these complex ethereal pulses reach the 
 region of our atmosphere. Three gases, besides aque- 
 ous vapour in ever-varying degree of condensation and 
 change, become blended with them in the self-same 
 space, under what physical relations no philosophy can 
 tell. Nearer to the earth other matters, organic or 
 mineral, are variously diffused through the atmosphere ; 
 and the atmospheric vibrations ministering to sound 
 become commingled with the undulations conveying 
 light to heat ; each system of waves, under their 
 several velocities, amplitudes and refrangibilities, mov- 
 ing in the same portion of space — not indeed without 
 conflict, as shown in the various modifications of the 
 calorific and actinic rays, as well as of the lines of the 
 visible spectrum — but still under laws, seen or unseen, 
 which limit disturbance and control the whole. Con- 
 ception labours in vain to follow these infinitesimal 
 functions of matter and force. And the difficulty is en- 
 hanced by the conclusion pressed cogently upon us that 
 the great agent under our review, the ether of space, 
 exists in and permeates the most solid bodies of which 
 we have knowledge — a medium or agent in those in- 
 testine molecular changes which, in one condition of 
 action or another, form the subject and foundation of 
 all physical science. Our knowledge of the infinitesi- 
 mal divisibility of matter helps us to the conception of 
 ether pervading it no farther than by the analogy of 
 another great natural fact, closely related, equally 
 inconceivable, yet proved to be true. This topic, how- 
 ever, does not now come before us. 
 
ON MATTER, FORCE, AND MOTION IN SPACE. 61 
 
 Looking to the whole subject just discussed, we are 
 forced to admit, notwithstanding all the genius and 
 labour given to it, that the ultimate truths it involves 
 are still wanting to us. Our reason here lies very- 
 much at the mercy of language. We have got hold of 
 certain words needed to express the great elements 
 acting in the natural world. Of these strangely-fated 
 terms which we employ to expound the deepest mys- 
 teries of nature, the word Force is the most mysteri- 
 ous — expressing a reahty of action in time and space — 
 present wherever matter and motion are, and known 
 to us but through these — emanating from life and 
 mind as well as inanimate nature — yet strictly speak- 
 ing a name only to our understanding. It is a name, 
 however, betokening relations on which the highest 
 philosophy may fitly employ itself; subject to those 
 restrictions which only the highest philosophy can 
 discern and submit to. It is matter of curious specu- 
 lation whether future research will ever bring us to a 
 clear comprehension of the power or powers we thus 
 denominate — of their relations to matter throughout 
 the universe, and of the connexions they establish be- 
 tween more material, phenomena, and the higher 
 attributes of life, mind, and will. No avenue is yet 
 discernible to this ultimate truth. Fresh analogies 
 may come to light, and new correlations of pheno- 
 mena ; but the question of primary cause still unceas- 
 ingly starts up, ' What is Force in itself ? ' to answer 
 which question truly and intelligibly is hardly, I think, 
 permitted to the present powers of man. 
 
62 
 
 DIVISIBILITY OF MATTER,— ATOMIC THEORY. 
 
 Physical Science, in all its parts, is ever furnishing 
 fresh instances to amaze and bewilder our conceptions 
 on this subject. They tax heavily the belief of com- 
 mon minds, though sustained by evidence irresistible in 
 kind, as compulsory as mathematical demonstration. 
 Examples of the divisibility of matter are now so 
 numerous and familiar that it is needless to dwell upon 
 them ; yet a few may be cited instar multorum, and 
 these derived chiefly from recent researches. 
 
 Take sodium as indicated by its coloured lines in 
 the spectrum. Calculation, based upon the diffusion 
 of a salt of this metal in a given atmospheric space, 
 shows that 180-millionth part of a grain of sodium 
 may be detected by this subtle analysis. In the sodium 
 salt thus employed other experiments prove the pre- 
 sence of one ten-millionth part of iodine as an ingre- 
 dient. Take aniline as an example from modern 
 chemistry. A single grain gives a rose-pink colour to 
 ten million times its weight of water, by diffusion of 
 the innumerable molecules of aniline of which this 
 grain is composed. In like manner a strong ruby tint 
 is given to a volume of fluid by a quantity of gold not 
 exceeding ^^-jV^^ part by weight. 
 
DIVISIBILITY OF MATTER — ATOMIC THEORY. 63 
 
 Matter, organised into life, furnishes illustrations 
 without end. The living and fossil infusoria — the ova 
 of fishes and insects — the red corpuscles of the blood 
 (estimated microscopically by bilhons to the cubic inch) 
 — the odours of flowers — the millions of germs diffused 
 from the puiF-ball of a single fungus — these suffice for 
 examples, expressing in their units the marvellous 
 divisibihty of matter; and a further marvel in the 
 consideration that these units are themselves organised 
 compounds of smaller and more elementary atoms, 
 each endowed with properties giving it a part in the 
 mechanism of the natural world. In no case have we 
 absolute proof that the ultimate atoms or monads — the 
 fjLsysSr^ ahaipsTOL — have been reached. In the case of 
 compound bodies, their molecules by division carry us 
 yet farther in the scale of minuteness, until thought 
 becomes involved in that metaphysical web of the 
 Infinite and Indivisible — the terminus to all enquiry.^ 
 
 The admission, or rather re-admission, of the atomic 
 theory into all our views of the material world is per- 
 haps the most marked step in the science of our day. 
 The facts as well as the requirements of chemistry have 
 
 * Lucretius, wonderful botli as a thinker and poet, approaches this 
 abstruse point of the infinite divisibility of matter with his wonted 
 felicity in subjecting philosophy to verse (^lib. iv. 616). It is one of the 
 many instances where his power of thought (based doubtless in part on 
 prior philosophy) has pointed to conclusions verified more or less by the 
 most recent researches of our own time. Without citing others, I may 
 briefly notice two instances which I have not seen mentioned elsewhere, 
 viz., the passage (lib. ii. 288 et seq.) in which are foreshadowed the 
 recent discoveries of Graham and Tyndall on the diff'usibility and pene- 
 trability of different kinds of matter ; and that (lib. ii. 447-50) indi- 
 cating the exact order in which stone, bronze, and iron implements are 
 now shown to have come into the uses of man. 
 
64 DIVISIBILITY OF MATTER — ATOMIC THEORY. 
 
 had the largest share in this act of progress ; though 
 the general conception is one which might well be 
 derived from observation of the diversities of matter, 
 and of those endless changes and interchanges which 
 can only be effected by particles of infinite smallness. 
 The microscope, too, though far short of its present 
 perfection, had already disclosed organisms so minute, 
 yet so perfect in their several forms, as to suggest at 
 once an elaboration from atoms — the a[j,ipri re aXap^/o-ra 
 of matter. But the doctrine of Definite Proportion in 
 chemical compounds, well established, made that of 
 atoms a direct necessity ; and the principles embodied 
 in this doctrine have derived from the genius and 
 labours of chemists a certain mathematical character 
 even in the formulae used for their expression. A 
 period of little more than sixty years, dating from the 
 first rude outline of Dalton, comprises all these signal 
 discoveries — best expounded by terms which denote 
 their dependence on the properties and relations of 
 atoms, such as isomerism, isomorphism, allotropy, 
 substitution, types, homologous series, atomic weights, 
 &c. These terms may hereafter merge in others more 
 general ; but meanwhile they are needed to express 
 phenomena forming that great body of connected 
 science which under the name of Chemistry (a name 
 of feeble origin for what it now denotes) deals with 
 the infinitesimal parts of matter in all its forms — with 
 their mutual actions and affinities, and their connexions 
 with those great natural forces, light, heat, electricity, 
 &c., which call these relations into activity. Forces 
 act upon matter by changing in one way or other the 
 
DIVISIBILITY OF MATTER — ^ATOMIC THEORY. 65 
 
 inter-relations of its component atoms. These atomic 
 changes are such in kind as to show the individuality 
 of the parts so-called, however inconceivable their 
 minuteness. 
 
 To this individuahty are attached some of the most 
 profound questions in modern science. First comes 
 the old metaphysical difficulty. Is there any thing 
 actually indivisible ? Can we speak of, or conceive, a 
 material unit without parts ? Eemitting this ques- 
 tion, as may well be done, to that Umbo of the Infinite 
 in which so many others are merged, we encounter 
 various problems more capable of solution, but not 
 yet thoroughly solved. What, for example, are those 
 properties or endowments, manifestly inherent in the 
 very nature of the ultimate fractional parts of matter, 
 giving them their affinities, repulsions, &c. inter se, and 
 in their relation to the forces which put them into 
 action ? Are there absolute intrinsic differences in the 
 nature of atoms or monads, corresponding to our re- 
 ceived catalogue of elementary bodies ? Or must we 
 receive the latter as an approximation merely to fewer 
 and simpler elements, to be determined as such by a 
 future more subtle analysis ? How are we to regard 
 the phenomena of allotropy occurring in substances 
 hitherto deemed elementary ? Or the atomic pheno- 
 mena of crystallisation and their various relations to 
 light, heat, and electricity ? Or the strange fact, 
 necessarily blending itself with the atomic theory, that 
 the properties of substances may in many cases be dis- 
 tinctly altered by admixture with infinitesimal propor- 
 
 F 
 
66 DIVISIBILITY OF MATTER — ATOMIC THEORY. 
 
 tions of other matter, sometimes not exceeding a 
 millionth part of their weight ? ^ 
 
 Nor are questions of this kind limited to what we 
 may regard as simple atoms. They apply ahke to 
 those endless atomic compounds, of the same or differ- 
 ent kinds of matter which make up the natural world 
 around us. These compound atoms, now distinctively 
 termed molecules^ we may assume to be larger and of 
 less simple figure than the atoms composing them, 
 though this conclusion is one rather of inference than 
 of experimental knowledge. Appreciation by mea- 
 surement, or other direct means, of these infinitesimal 
 parts is as impossible as to conceive them by efibrt of 
 thought. There are, indeed, some recent experiments 
 (made by subjecting simple and compound gases re- 
 spectively to equal increments of heat and pressure) 
 which tend to show that all gases, under similar con- 
 ditions, contain equal numbers, and therefore equal 
 sizes, of constituent atoms or molecules. But this is 
 one of the many questions alluded to as awaiting 
 solution. 
 
 The glory of chemistry as a science depends espe- 
 cially upon its researches into molecular properties and 
 combinations. The endless number and variety of 
 chemical compounds, their tendency to types and de- 
 terminate series, and the mastery now obtained over 
 them by synthesis as well as analysis, show how vast 
 
 ' Sir W. Thomson (1870) assigns four physical proofs of limits to 
 the smallness of atoms and molecules — one derived from the contact and 
 electricity of metals, the others from the doctrine of capillary attraction 
 and the kinetic theory of gases, giving the certainty that there is a limit 
 to the molecular size, however exceeding all conception in minuteness. 
 
DIVISIBILITY OF MATTER— ATOMIC THEORY. 67 
 
 are the problems the atomic theory brings before us, 
 and how bold and successful have been the steps of 
 science in this direction. The conception, perhaps the 
 proof, of the class of bodies termed Compound Eadicals 
 marks one of these steps, useful in progress if not 
 certain in sequel. It illustrates, indeed, as an example, 
 the present aspect of chemistry as regards organic 
 compounds — a redundance of curious and well-deter- 
 mined facts, awaiting some certain principle of corre- 
 lation and nomenclature to give them that cohesion 
 which the ultimate ends of science require. Unity is 
 the true Euthanasia of the several chemical systems 
 now existing among us. 
 
 Dismissing for the moment these more general 
 views, we come back upon the question, already pro- 
 pounded, as to the intimate nature of atoms, and the 
 properties which may be predicated as belonging to 
 them, irrespectively even of differences in the nature 
 of matter itself.^ I have hitherto spoken chiefly 
 of their infinitesimal minuteness. Every speculation as 
 to their nature, every fact or theory regarding their 
 mutual relations, includes, and must include, this pos- 
 tulate. No explanation of the most common pheno- 
 mena is possible without it. Those intestine actions 
 and changes which take place within the most solid 
 bodies, inscrutable to any mode of observation, can be 
 effected only through infinitesimal minuteness of the 
 parts composing them. Necessity here becomes the 
 
 ^ Nowhere is the question of the necessary attributes of indivisible 
 atoms, as well as that of the infinite divisibility of space, reasoned out 
 more profoundly than in the writings of Pascal. 
 
 ]?2 
 
68 DIVISIBILITY OF MATTER— ATOMIC THEORY. 
 
 measure of minuteness — the sole measure we have ; 
 fo the instances already given, and the many that 
 might be added, marvellous though they are, do not 
 make it certain that we have reached what is ultimate 
 in the atomic scale. If we come to ether, as a mate- 
 rial medium, occupying universal space, we are forced 
 for the fulfilment of its offices, from actual pheno- 
 mena, to assume a degree of divisibility of matter 
 which no statement can convey to our conception. 
 
 The exquisite mobility of atoms is another condition, 
 equally necessary and collateral, indeed, to that just 
 stated. It is a condition expressed not solely through 
 motions and changes obvious to sense, or such as occur 
 in fluid or gaseous states of matter, but with equal cer- 
 tainty through the changes produced in the densest 
 bodies by the various action of light, heat and 
 electricity, &c. — atomic motions real in themselves, 
 however produced. When we speak of telegraphic 
 communication, next to instantaneous, between Lon- 
 don and Edinburgh or across the Atlantic, we denote 
 the assured fact that every single atom of the inter- 
 vening metallic wire has undergone for the moment 
 some specific change, whatever it be, in this wonderful 
 transmission of force. A figure solid — a crystal, for 
 example — may be wholly altered in its internal or 
 atomic structure, without any appreciable change of 
 outward form. The proof of such intestine motions of 
 atoms is as perfect as if the eye could discern them. 
 The microscope discloses many marvellous facts in this 
 direction of research, but there is a microcosm of 
 movement and change which lies far beyond its reach. 
 
DIVISIBILITY OF MATTER — ATOMIC THEORY. 69 
 
 The experiments of Karsten and Grove in fixing on a 
 plate of glass the image of a coin simply laid upon it 
 and electrified, shows, as do the phenomena in photo- 
 graphy, the exquisitely minute changes which molecules 
 undergo in ways utterly inappreciable by human sense 
 or conception. 
 
 In subjects of this kind one question follows 
 another by instant suggestion. It may be, and has 
 been asked, is matter in any of its forms, from the in- 
 visible atom to the great globes of heaven, ever really 
 at rest ? Is not mobihty, as an inherent property and 
 function of matter, actually expressed by the unceasing 
 motion of its parts, whatever their mode of aggrega- 
 tion ? xVstronomy would seem to answer in the affirm- 
 ative for all that belongs to its vast domain. Organic 
 life, in its every shape on earth, tells the same story of 
 unceasing motion and change in the atomic elements 
 on which fife depends. Inorganic substances do not 
 afford the same direct evidence. Yet if that be, as 
 now commonly supposed, a simple induced condition of 
 atomic motions in bodies, such motion, in one degree 
 or other, must ever be present in all matter, altered 
 more or less whenever bodies of unequal temperature 
 come into proximity. The doctrine of latent heat some- 
 what obscures this conception ; but the doctrine and 
 phrase are provisional only for the expression of a very 
 obscure physical fact. In gases more especially we 
 obtain strong presumption of incessant movement in 
 the atoms composing them. Eecent researches on their 
 interdiffiision and subjection to pressure go far to 
 justify this behef — one subject, however, to those ele- 
 
70 DIVISIBILITY OF MATTER — ATOMIC THEORY. 
 
 mentary difficulties, which here, as so often elsewhere, 
 stand stubbornly in our way. The word Motion itself 
 is one of these. No conception of it can be formed 
 which does not include relation to something else than 
 the atom, or aggregate of atoms, moved — a relation 
 so complex as regards the matter of forces in action, 
 that all conclusions must be accepted with reserve. If 
 we suppose compound forces acting in this invisible 
 world of monads — and the condition is a very ad- 
 missible one — rotatory motions would be the probable 
 result ; and such hypothesis is, in truth, more appli- 
 cable than any other. 
 
 Leaving this speculation, we come again to what 
 may be regarded as the integral or necessary proper- 
 ties of ultimate atoms. To those of infinite minuteness 
 and inobiHty may further be added that of definite 
 figure — a postulate almost essential to any interpreta- 
 tion we can put upon them as components of matter — 
 the only key to the phenomena of definite proportions, 
 isomorphism, substitution, and all besides which consti- 
 tutes chemical science. It is impossible to suppose 
 that atoms, shapeless and indeterminate in figure, can 
 be instrumental in changes and combinations deter- 
 minate as mathematical facts. Adaptations so perfect 
 and constant can only co-exist with primitive forms 
 equally perfect and permanent. But admitting these 
 premises, what system of atomic morphology can be 
 constructed to meet the conditions of the problem? 
 More than sixty kinds of matter are still elementary to 
 our knowledge. Are we to suppose different configura- 
 tion of the component atoms of each of these, and of 
 
DIVISIBILITY OF MATTER ATOMIC THEORY. 71 
 
 others that may yet be discovered ? Or, in sight of this 
 difficulty, may we presume that many of the number 
 are really compounds of simpler elements, though 
 possibly beyond the reach of discovery as such? or 
 alio tropic conditions of the same element, as Dumas 
 conjectures regarding chlorine, iodine, and bromine ? 
 The whole question enters so deeply into the theory of 
 the material world, that we are bound to follow it as 
 far as reason and analogy will carry us, awaiting those 
 future disclosures which time is sure to afford. That 
 they will contract the catalogue of elements, up to this 
 time constantly increased in number, is my confident 
 belief. 
 
 Seeking aid to this enquiry from other parts of 
 science, Crystallography is perhaps that most fertile of 
 suggestion. It deals with determinate figures, created 
 by the mutual actions of atomic parts, the simple atom 
 or the compounded molecule. This atomicity — to use a 
 recent term — in the structure of crystals is expressed 
 not only in their modes of aggregation, but also in 
 their optical axes and other relations to light ; and 
 further, in those internal changes of structure, already 
 noticed, which occur without change of outward form, 
 and those more special cases where the primitive form 
 of the crystal determines its mode of change when sub- 
 jected to heat. Other instances might be given, justi- 
 fying the notion of definite figure of atoms from the 
 analogy of crystalline accretions. If we have mathe- 
 matical forms of crystals, we may fairly presume such 
 to exist in the ultimate atoms composing them. If we 
 can reduce the primitive forms to three only, the same 
 
72 DITISIBILITY OF MATTER — ATOMIC THEORY. 
 
 assumption may be applied to atoms. Or, if we go 
 further and consider, with WoUaston and Mitscherhch, 
 all the forms of crystallisation as explicable by the 
 opposition of simple spheres or spheroids with an inter- 
 vening elastic or compressible medium, whatever its 
 nature, we come more closely to the elements of an 
 atomic theory, and to a view more plausible perhaps 
 than any yet propounded, of this part of the nature of 
 primitive atoms. 
 
 With every aid, however, of analogy and hypo- 
 thesis, we cannot yet go further in the solution of a 
 problem complicated by the different kinds of matter 
 itself. Eecurring, however, to the more general view 
 of the properties of atoms, some things still remain to 
 be noticed. In admitting their fixedness of figure we 
 necessarily deprive them of individual elasticity. This 
 property in its various degrees can only depend on the 
 manner in which atoms are amalgamated or grouped 
 together in mass — a condition which may be said to 
 determine generally their relation to impulses from 
 without, and their mobility as one of the most impor- 
 tant of these. It is not too much to conceive this 
 property' — the capacity and velocity of motion — as 
 being very different for atoms of different kinds, or for 
 atoms of the same kind differently aggregated. Eecent 
 researches on gases and vapours afford fair sanction 
 to hypothesis on this subject. The gaseous form of 
 matter is that which indeed aids more especially in the 
 enquiry, giving their most active and mobile condition 
 to its atomic parts, through the interpenetration of 
 those forces by which this wonderful machinery of 
 
DIVISIBILITY OF MATTER — ATOMIC THEORY. 73 
 
 atoms or molecules is put into work. The evidence that 
 under equal pressure and temperature every different 
 gas contains in the same volume the same number of 
 molecules, is one striking result of research thus 
 directed. The experiments of Graham on the inter- 
 diffusion of gases and liquids have thrown much curious 
 light on the subject, and coupled with other consider- 
 ations go far to justify the hypothesis, propounded by 
 himself, that the atoms or molecules of all gases are 
 spherical in form, incessantly in movement in every 
 direction, but with varying velocity in different gases. 
 Granting this to be hypothetical only, yet are the con- 
 ditions resulting from experiment such as to make it 
 difficult to supply other interpretation. We feel in a 
 certain proximity to the truth, though the conclusive 
 and final steps still remain to be made. Similar antici- 
 pations are frequent in other parts of science, cheering 
 as well as directing the labours of research. 
 
 To gases and vapours, as already mentioned, we 
 may especially look for elucidation of the forms and 
 properties of molecular compounds, founded on their 
 varying relation to those radiant forces (as we must 
 conventionally call them) which govern the intimate 
 motions of matter in all its shapes. The strong pre- 
 sumption already existing that compound atoms, or 
 molecules, must differ from simple atoms in size, or 
 figure, or both, has been strikingly confirmed by the 
 experiments of Tyndall, showing the large absorption, 
 or stoppage, of radiant heat occurring in its passage 
 through compound gases, compared with what happens 
 in those of simple elementary kind. These results, hke 
 
74 DIVISIBILITY OF MATTER — ATOMIC THEORY. 
 
 those derived from his later discovery of the chemical 
 reactions produced by light passing through compound 
 gases, concur with Mr. Graham's various researches 
 in pointing at a molecular mechanism^ a definite 
 principle of embodiment of atomic figures, forces, 
 and motions, destined hereafter to become a special 
 department of science — closely allied, however, to 
 chemistry by those principles of analysis, synthesis, 
 substitution, &c. which have so marvellously inter- 
 preted to us the intimate constitution of all compound 
 bodies. Chemists are still not agreed as to the best 
 mode of tabulating or symbohsing the results which 
 enrich this part of their science. Of the schemes pro- 
 pounded (and four are now on the table before me) 
 each has its appropriate value. And in this very fact 
 we find evidence that they are but provisional, and 
 steps towards some perfect system even now looming be- 
 fore us and well-nigh certain of attainment. Founded 
 as it must be on strict numerical proportions, it will 
 probably disclose or suggest relations of atomic figure 
 also, as exponents of the combinations and changes 
 matter undergoes when thus reduced to the infinitesi- 
 mal parts in which all material action really resides. 
 
 The future progress of this enquiry will doubtless 
 elucidate more completely the physical distinctions of 
 elementary atoms and molecules, both as to their nature 
 and effects in action. The present theoretical distinc- 
 tion is that best expressed by Wurtz in the words given 
 in the subjoined note.^ This definition shows, what 
 
 * L'atome est la plus petite quantite d'un Element qui puisse exister 
 dans un corps compost, corame indivisible par des forces chimiques. 
 
DIVISIBILITY OF MATTER — ATOMIC THEORY. 75 
 
 indeed was already recognised, how much of future 
 knowledge, not merely as respects particular facts, but 
 general laws, is wrapped up in this molecular theory. 
 It is through the infinitely small that we may best 
 reach a comprehension of the architecture, organic and 
 inorganic, of the material world. 
 
 Without discussing in -detail the several bearings 
 of molecular philosophy, I may notice one cardinal 
 point important from its relation to others, viz., the 
 fact that in proportion as a compound is more complex 
 in its parts it becomes more unstable, more liable to 
 dissolution. All the most explosive compounds of 
 which we have knowledge come under this general 
 law. So, it may be — though here we must speak more 
 doubtfully — do those strange phenomena of ferments, 
 of animal and vegetable poisons, and of the specific 
 poisons of certain epidemic diseases. In the latter 
 class of facts we have the most striking proofs of the 
 infinite divisibility of matter, and of those wonderful 
 relations of its infinitesimal parts which, by a slight 
 change in their proportion only, can convert an inno- 
 cuous substance — even an article of food — into one 
 which becomes an instant cause of disease or death. 
 Physiology, as a part of general science, has much yet 
 to learn here, though it may probably never be able to 
 tell us in what physical changes that immunity con- 
 sists, which renders a person who has once had the 
 smallpox permanently insusceptible of infection from 
 the virus of this disease. 
 
 La molecule est im groupe d'atoraes, forraant la plus petite quantite d'un 
 corps simple ou compose qui puisse exister a Fetat libre, entrer dans un 
 reaction, ou en sortir. 
 
76 DIVISIBILITY OF MATTER — ATOMIC THEORY. 
 
 In treating thus far of the divisibihty of matter, 
 and of the atomic theory as resultant from it, I have 
 said but Httle of those imponderable agents which we 
 can in no way dissociate from matter, and cannot 
 easily define otherwise than as functions of it, yet 
 which severally involve atomic actions and conditions 
 peculiar to each. Light and heat come perhaps in 
 closest relation, as connected with these conditions ; 
 and the discovery of a constant proportion between 
 the specific heat of bodies and the atomic weight of 
 their particles is one of the exponents of relations 
 which may well be called very profound, seeing how 
 far they go beyond the region of the senses or the bare 
 conjectures of thought. How important, again, in its 
 connexion with the atomic theory is the curious fact 
 (established as far as experiment has yet gone) that 
 the power or index of refraction of light in compound 
 bodies is the sum of the indexes of refi:action of their 
 component parts. We may further fairly presume (and 
 this is confirmed by Tyndall's later researches) that 
 the undulations of light — the ' luminous waves of 
 ether' — have definite relation to the atomic con- 
 ditions of the bodies they permeate. If simple light 
 can unite with sudden explosion the atoms of hy- 
 drogen and chlorine, we may well anticipate its action 
 in other cases in dissociating the molecules of com- 
 pound bodies, and with some relation, it may be, to 
 those differences in luminous waves on which the 
 differences of refrangibility depend. Of electricity, 
 under its various forms, as one of these great agents in 
 the world of nature, it may be said that atoms in 
 
DIVISIBILITY OF MATTER — ATOMIC THEORY. 77 
 
 motion either constitute this power, or are pervaded 
 by and give conduction and other action to it. With 
 the view I entertain of the relation of electricity to the 
 ether of space — of which I shall speak more in another 
 paper — I think the latter the more probable interpre- 
 tation. The phenomena of electricity in vacuum-tubes 
 show the exquisite tenuity to which air and other 
 vapours must be reduced before they cease to give 
 passage to the electric current. 
 
 Of gravitation in its connexion with the atomic 
 theory I have spoken in another of these papers. We 
 may describe it as a property inherent in all matter, 
 but such phrase adds nothing real to our knowledge 
 of this great force, gives no conception of its origin in 
 individual atoms, of the aggregation of units of force, 
 or of its transmission through space. The relation of 
 the ponderable to the imponderable, of matter to the 
 powers acting upon it, forms indeed that mysterious 
 volume which science has opened, but has not yet been 
 able adequately to decipher. 
 
 Although the doctrine of atoms was a mere specu- 
 lation in ancient philosophy, yet, even as such, it is 
 worth noting how far human thought, working by 
 itself, advanced towards those conclusions which have 
 become the recognised truths of our own day. With- 
 out recurring to the doctrines, so often quoted, of 
 Anaxagoras, Democritus, Epicurus, &c., or to the great 
 poem of Lucretius which gives so magnificent a frame- 
 work to all atomic speculations, it is enough to say 
 that we find pervading the most remote philosophical 
 antiquity a general notion of indivisible, indestructible 
 
78 DIVISIBILITY OF MATTER —ATOMIC THEORY- 
 
 atoms — the material of all creation, either by inherent 
 energy of their own, or acted upon by a creative 
 power from without. It cannot be said that any im- 
 portant advance has been made upon these views 
 until approaching closely to our own time ; though the 
 great names of Bacon and Newton enter into the dis- 
 cussion, the former expanding and extolling the doc- 
 trine of Democritus on the subject ; the latter, in one of 
 his wonted pregnant sentences, denoting those quali- 
 ties of ultimate atoms which he deems essential to the 
 uses for which God created them. The monads of 
 Leibnitz and the living organic molecules are little 
 more than variations of the same ancient theme — naked 
 hypotheses, without any show of verification by facts. 
 The doctrine of Boscovich regarding the attractions 
 and repulsions of matter as associated with mathema- 
 tical points, or centres of force, is better worthy of 
 note, not solely to our present purpose, but as one of 
 those large views which concentrate around them nu- 
 merous facts otherwise insulated or anomalous. The 
 atomic theory of gravitation of Le Sage, and that 
 more recently propounded by Mosotti, belong to the 
 history of this enquiry, but have done little to advance 
 its progress. 
 
 It is, indeed, as already stated, to the chemical dis- 
 coveries of the last half-century that we owe what may 
 now be fairly called Atomic Science. Studied through 
 the multiplicity, yet mathematical fixedness, of their 
 combinations, atoms and molecules, though unseen as 
 such, have become intellectually realities to our know- 
 ledge — first by analysis, and more recently by syn- 
 
DIVISIBILl'lT OF MATTER — ATOMIC THEORY. 79 
 
 thesis. Chemists are tracing and following them in 
 their most secret operations ; and the latter method 
 has lately obtained a signal success in producing or- 
 ganic compounds from those simple elements the in- 
 cipient combinations of which had heretofore been 
 wholly hidden from us. It is hard to say how far this 
 success may hereafter be carried, but it is certain that 
 the halting-place has not yet been reached. We are 
 still ignorant — and here there is no obvious path to 
 discovery — of the actual intimate structure of mole- 
 cules. The proportion of number and weight of the 
 atoms comprising them we can tell, but not the man- 
 ner in which they are built up into those definite 
 forms, so numerous to our knowledge, in theory next 
 to innumerable. We cannot penetrate into the atomic 
 attractions and repulsions which govern these pheno- 
 mena, or prove the exact relation of such atomic pro- 
 perties to the great natural forces in constant action 
 around us. We use the general term polarity^ and 
 Dr. Prout and others have sought to give it a more 
 specific application to atomic theory ; but all such 
 views, however plausible, are still without proof, nor 
 in any case do they yet meet all the conditions of the 
 question. 
 
 In addition to those already cited I might name 
 many other problems in science which can only be 
 approached through the atomic theory. Such are the 
 phenomena of catalysis — the greater energy of certain 
 elements, as oxygen and hydrogen, at the moment of 
 their evolution from compounds — the questions regard- 
 ing ozone and other allotropic elements — the efiects of 
 
80 DIVISIBILITY OF MATTER — ATOMIC THEORY. 
 
 electricity on the surface-molecules of bodies, as shown 
 in the experiments of Grove and Karsten — the curious 
 facts described by Prout under the name of Steror- 
 ganisation — the conditions (denoted by Hoffman under 
 the terms univalent, bivalent, &c.) which decide the 
 different combining powers of chemical elements, &c. 
 All such problems are closely blended with others of 
 like import ; and the progress of enquiry is ever multi- 
 plying these connexions, and making them subserve 
 to mutual illustration and ulterior discovery. 
 
81 
 
 THE ELECTRIC ELEMENT 
 
 1867. 
 
 Electrical Science, in its present state, curiously 
 shows how far the knowledge of phenomena may go, 
 without knowledge of the true nature of the agent 
 producing them. The first letters are wanting to the 
 alphabet of the science. We speak of positive and 
 negative electricity, of poles and currents, of induction, 
 of quantity and intensity, but we conceive and define 
 these conditions solely by their effects. Other pheno- 
 mena and names come in, denoting the magnetic 
 aspects of the electric element, but still failing to in- 
 terpret to us the nature of that power which gives 
 origin to the whole. This elementary ignorance^ com- 
 mon to many parts of science, is more striking here 
 from the wonderful command obtained over the elec- 
 tric force in its various modes of evolution, concentra- 
 tion, conduction, and application to the uses of man. 
 We make what we needfully call its current, a mes- 
 senger swift as light itself, to the most distant parts of 
 the earth — create, check, suspend, and re-create this 
 current as fast as human fingers can move— and from 
 either end of the electric cable, lying in the depths of 
 the Atlantic, can detect the exact place of a fault in 
 the wires a thousand miles from land ! 
 
 But with all this mastery over the agent, we are 
 
82 THE ELECTKIC ELEMENT. 
 
 checked at once by the question, ' What is it ? What 
 is electricity ? ' The problem is one beset with difficul- 
 ties, but with seductions also ; seeing the likelihood 
 that hereafter some conclusion will be reached closer 
 than any yet attained. I have long interested myself 
 in the speculation; and with a growing persuasion 
 that if there be any distinct material element con- 
 cerned in, and producing, electric phenomena, the 
 ether, pervading all known space, is that best satisfy- 
 ing the conditions required. 
 
 The assumption may seem a rash one, seeing the 
 vastness and complexity of these phenomena, and the 
 want of any direct evidence to justify what is assumed. 
 But it must be kept in mind that no other physical 
 theory has been brought to solve the problem, or tell 
 us what electricity really is. If anyone had title to 
 utter an opinion on this point it was Faraday. He 
 declares that ' of the intimate nature of electricity we 
 know nothing ; whether it is matter, force, vibration, 
 or what.' His description of it as ' an axis of power i 
 having contrary and equal forces in opposite directions,' 
 denotes particular phenomena, but not the power pro- 
 ducing them. 
 
 In addressing myself to this question. I would first 
 seek to simplify it by limitation. Electric action, how- 
 ever manifested, must be either a special condition of 
 motion of the atoms of sensible matter, as we suppose 
 in the case of heat, or it must be due to some indi- 
 vidual element or agent, distinct from the matter, on 
 which and through which it acts, an agent we must 
 denote as itself material^ seeing that we can in no way 
 
THE ELECTRIC ELEMENT. 83 
 
 describe, or even conceive, tlie phenomena apart from 
 this relation to a material cause. 
 
 I cannot hesitate in believing the latter view to be 
 that best warranted by our present knowledge. The 
 methods by which we elicit, accumulate, and conduct 
 electricity, whatever theoretic difficulties they involve, 
 are far better understood under the hypothesis of a 
 special material agent, than as proceeding solely from 
 atomic actions of the bodies electrically affected. To 
 speak of polar states, or chemical changes in the atoms 
 of matter, as constituting electricity, is but to hide the 
 real difficulty, leaving unsolved the cause whence 
 these conditions are mtrinsically derived. The pheno- 
 mena attending the transmission of electricity through 
 wires bear cogently on the question. The differences 
 of effect produced by the varying material, length, and 
 thickness of the conductor can hardly be reconciled 
 with other views than that of a specific agent acting in 
 a certain ratio to its quantity and concentration, and 
 capable of being estimated under these relations. These 
 terms of quantity^ intensity^ and concentration within 
 determinate spaces especially characterise electricity, 
 and associate it intimately with those actions and condi- 
 tions by which material elements are designated to our 
 knowledge. 
 
 If the individuality of the electric element be ad- 
 mitted as distinct from the matter through which it 
 acts, the question at once arises, can we identify it 
 with any other known element in the natural world ? 
 As postulates in the enquiry we need, first, some agent 
 cosmical in character, since our actual knowledge of 
 
 G 2 
 
84 THE ELECTKIC ELEMENT. 
 
 electricity, especially under its magnetic conditions, 
 shows it to be an influence spreading widely over the 
 universe, and connecting us physically witli the sun at 
 least, if not with other more distant worlds. We need 
 also some element capable of expounding those rela- 
 tions of electricity to matter of every kind, so intimate 
 and constant that no changes of substance whatsoever, 
 chemical or mechanical, can occur without electric 
 manifestations in some form or degree ; and no sub- 
 stance, as far as w^e can see, but is acted upon in some 
 way or other by the electricity thus evolved. This 
 universality of relation led Faraday to conjecture a 
 direct connexion between the force of gravitation and 
 the electric power. But he failed to find any experi- 
 mental proof justifying this hypothesis. Had such 
 proof been attainable, he of all philosophers would 
 have been the most likely to reach it. 
 
 But failing in this, is there no other known agent 
 to satisfy, in part at least, the conditions required ? Be- 
 fore hurrying to the theory of a new and special power 
 (a bare assumption, complicating yet more the great 
 problem of the elementary forces) we are bound to 
 see whether any of the elements already recognised in 
 the natural world will not equally well interpret the 
 phenomena. And this, I think, may fairly be affirmed 
 of that element, so to term it, which under the provi- 
 sional name of ether we recognise as a necessary 
 existence in the universe around us— necessary/, be- 
 cause we can in no other way explain the transmission 
 through space of those wonderful wave-motions, of 
 which light and heat are the chief exponents to our 
 
THE ELECTRIC ELEMENT. 85 
 
 living world. Though forced to use the term im- 
 ponderable for this element, yet does its function need- 
 fully imply the material nature of the medium, as well as 
 its diffusion throughout every part of the solar system, 
 and even through those other systems of worlds which 
 send their light to us from the. depths of space. It is a 
 cosmical element in the largest sense of the word ; not 
 merely diffused through the universe around us, but 
 interpenetrating, as optical and other phenomena attest, 
 even the densest bodies of our material world. 
 
 Vast and complex though the recognised function 
 of ether be, need we or can we suppose it the sole 
 one which this element fulfils in nature ? Admitting 
 in the outset its materiality, may it not, or must it noi, 
 when coming into contact and interpenetration with 
 the atmosphere and still grosser and more palpable 
 forms of matter, assume other conditions and properties 
 than when diffused equably and continuously through 
 outer space—be condensed, accumulated, evolved, con- 
 ducted in currents, and otherwise modified by the kind 
 of matter it pervades, and by the changes matter itself 
 undergoes from other forces acting upon it ? 
 
 Say that these questions are vague and lead to 
 presumptions only. But presumptions may fairly be 
 made an integral part of science in cases where cer- 
 tainty is unattainable or has not yet been attained. 
 They are steps to rest upon, if not to aid in rising 
 higher. In the case before us the general presumption 
 is one that almost compels assent. An exquisitely 
 subtle agent, such as we must presume ether to be, 
 cannot be supposed to impinge upon, interpenetrate. 
 
86 THE ELECTRIC ELEMENT. 
 
 and occupy the various forms of sensible matter without 
 involving relations and actions, equally subtle, between 
 this element and the atoms or molecules of which 
 matter is composed. We cannot conceive changes of 
 any kind in the latter without some equivalent change 
 or manifestation in the former. Without assuming to 
 indicate what may be cause and what effect, in these 
 infinitesimal actions, we may at least deem it next to 
 certain that the agency of ether cannot be limited to 
 the phenomena expressed by light and heat only ; or 
 that its elasticity, velocity of wave-motion, and other 
 properties remain unaltered when coming into that 
 close atomic coalescence which all analogy tells us to 
 be the condition of most energetic physical action. 
 
 If, failing to bring direct proof of the presence and 
 action of ether in these subtle phenomena, the question 
 suggests itself, have we not its substitute and repre- 
 sentative in electricity — in those wonderful phenomena, 
 evolved and apparent to our tests, even in the most 
 minute atomic changes, and capable both by natural 
 and artificial means (but always in connexion with 
 atomic disturbance) of being raised to a high degree of 
 intensity and quantitative power ? What is there, in 
 short, to forbid the conception that electricity is the 
 ether itself.^ — not existing as in its more equable 
 diffusion through interplanetary and stellar space, but 
 from its embodiment in terrestrial matter, solid, fluid, 
 and gaseous, quickened into new conditions, acting or 
 acted upon in all atomic changes, and in certain of 
 these extricated in such quantity and manner as to 
 become a powerful and prolific agent in the hands of 
 
THE ELECTRIC ELEMENT. 8t 
 
 men ? Can an element such as we must suppose ether 
 to be He dormant in the innermost interstices of 
 matter, while the smallest change of condition, even 
 the simple opposition of different bodies, awakens 
 another power within them into life and energy ? Is 
 it probable, or possible, that two distinct elements 
 should co-exist in the same space, with separate rela- 
 tions to the matter thus closely environing them? 
 Allowing much for our ignorance of matter in its 
 infinitesimal parts, can we suppose two agents thus 
 energetic pervading these parts, yet independent in 
 nature and action ? I put these points interrogatively; 
 but they are surely such as may well sanction hypo- 
 thesis in default of any more absolute answer to the 
 question, ' What is Electricity ? ' 
 
 For, in truth, no theory yet propounded can go 
 further to satisfy the very difficult conditions of the 
 problem. Look cursorily at the phenomena which 
 this wonderful element of electricity brings before us — 
 its various modes of evolution, including that by induc- 
 tion — its opposed conditions of positive and negative 
 electricity — its manner and velocity of conduction — its 
 connexion with magnetic phenomena in all their 
 aspects — its presence, either as cause or effect, in all 
 that we term chemical action — its relation to vital 
 functions — -its agency in all meteorological changes— 
 and its connexion by exact equivalents of power with 
 the other great forces of the natural world. These 
 various phenomena concentrate themselves under the 
 same single question, ' What is Electricity ? ' 
 
 Science, as we see, has hitherto given no certain 
 
88 THE ELECTRIC ELEMENT. 
 
 answer. Though presuming that some single ele- 
 mentary agent is concerned, and this material in its 
 nature, yet can we bring no absolute proof of its being 
 so, or conceive those material properties through which 
 it fulfils the several conditions just stated. What we 
 have before us, then, is purely a question of presump- 
 tion and probability. No other and higher proba- 
 bility can be produced" to refute the opinion that the 
 ether of space, under the conceptions we necessarily 
 attach to it, comes nearer to satisfy these conditions 
 than any other known agent, or any new element 
 which can be imagined for their fulfilment. Though 
 the hypothesis is barren of direct evidence, there are 
 yet glimpses of hght in this direction, giving guidance, 
 it may be, towards another of those unities which it is 
 the special object of science to attain. A wrong theory 
 is often the parent of a right one. 
 
 In weighing the one before us it must be expHcitly 
 repeated that we are not called upon to vindicate it as 
 apphed to all the details of electric phenomena, where 
 every other has failed to compass their interpretation. 
 The problem of the two electricities and their polarities, 
 under the well-recognised fact that one kind of elec- 
 tricity is never present without evolving an equivalent 
 of the other, is perhaps the most arduous of these, 
 departing from all recognised properties of other 
 powers, and still a barrier even to the boldest conjec- 
 ture. But there is nothing here to contradict the view 
 of ether as the agent concerned in these subtle phe- 
 nomena ; nothing certainly to establish the claim of 
 any other element. The difficulty being equal and 
 
THE ELECTRIC ELEMENT. 89 
 
 alike under any hypothesis, may fairly be eliminated 
 from the argument. And the same may be said 
 generally of all the problems which electricity puts 
 before us. 
 
 I have only cursorily alluded to those wonderful 
 magnetic relations of electricity which almost embody 
 a science in themselves. But they present no fresh 
 difficulties to our hypothesis. On the contrary, all the 
 phenomena of magnetism and diamagnetism, of magno- 
 crystalhc action, of magnetic lines of force, and of the 
 direct action of the magnet on electric currents, testify 
 their dependence on an agent pervading matter 
 throughout its ultimate atoms, giving polarity to 
 masses by polarising particles, and variously modi- 
 fied in its action and mode of evolution by the kind 
 of matter it permeates. This is a point to which 
 our regards may more especially be directed, since all 
 recent enquiry tends to prove that the motions and 
 relations of the ultimate atoms of matter depend upon, 
 and are governed by, the polarities of these atoms. 
 The phenomena of crystallisation, and even those of 
 the lightest gases, hardly admit of other interpretation. 
 Electricity, so strikingly manifested in its polar con- 
 ditions, however evolved or applied, comes into instant 
 and almost certain relation with these infinitesimal 
 atomic actions. And this forces us again upon the 
 question. Can we suppose these wonderful actions ever 
 going on in the intimate recesses, and among the 
 StaCpeTa craj/xara of matter, independently of another 
 agent (itself material, from the very definition of its 
 functions), pervading and acting in this very domain ? 
 
90 THE ELECTKIC ELEME^^T. 
 
 To suppose some agent other than the ether of space 
 fulfilling these conditions, is simply to invent a new 
 name, giving no new or deeper insight into the pro- 
 found problems which this part of science involves. 
 
 And here I may state my belief that any advance- 
 ment of our knowledge in this matter will probably 
 come from experiment on these inter-relations of elec- 
 tricity and magnetism — such researches, in fact, as have 
 already engaged the genius of Faraday, Be la Eive, 
 Tyndall, Weber, Pliicker, &c. The polarities of mag- 
 netism, the positive and negative electricity, and the 
 relations of these severally to the kinds and forms of 
 matter in which they are embodied, and to the light 
 and heat so variously present in these phenomena, 
 offer still a wide field to the experimental philosopher. 
 Happy he who, working amidst this intricate network 
 of curious but insulated facts, shall discover the clue 
 connecting and giving unity to the whole ! 
 
 As respects the relations of ether to such eventual 
 discovery, though it be impossible, perhaps, to bring 
 the element, so termed, within the scope of direct ex- 
 periment, yet its admitted and even necessary proper- 
 ties of exquisite tenuity and elasticity eminently fit it, 
 as far as we can see, for undergoing those changes of 
 form and force and direction which are known to us in 
 electric phenomena. Newton, in his discourse on light 
 and colours, explicitly denotes his belief that ether is 
 altered in density and other properties when brought 
 into penetration of grosser matter. And Faraday, con- 
 jecturing that it may be the medium of transmitting 
 the magnetic force, adds that, if there be an ether, ' it 
 is hkely to have other uses than simply the conveyance 
 
THE ELECTRIC ELEMENT. 91 
 
 of radiations.' Conceptions like these give fair founda- 
 tion to the hypothesis I am seeking to enforce. 
 
 But this hypothesis justifiably extends to more 
 remote distances in space. If there be, as we have 
 authority for believing, direct magnetic or electrical 
 connexion between the sun and earth, a material 
 medium must exist furnishing this connexion. Why 
 may we not suppose the electric element itself to 
 be this medium, occupying space under the con- 
 ditions we attach to the name of ether, and fulfil- 
 ling by its endowments those wonderful functions in 
 the natural world which we invoke the conception of 
 ether to illustrate and explain ? Why suppose another 
 and distinct element pervading space, when we have 
 one familiar to us in a thousand experiments, so pro- 
 portioned that none other can be conceived equally 
 capable of expounding the phenomena? In the sup- 
 position that ether itself is the electric element thus 
 diffused throughout our solar system — and, upon the 
 theory of light, to stellar space beyond — we obtain 
 presumptions extending to many of the great cosmical 
 problems on which science is now engaged. 
 
 The velocity of the electric current through certain 
 conductors, in its close approximation to that of the 
 ether waves of light, may fairly be admitted into the 
 argument for identity. All such facts give evidence of 
 the astonishing subtlety and mobility of the element thus 
 propertied, and of its capacity to assume very different 
 physical conditions, especially when brought into con- 
 junction with the more ponderable forms of matter. 
 
 The meteorological relations of electricity in nowise 
 contradict our hypothesis. That the ethereal medium 
 
92 THE ELECTRIC ELEMENT. 
 
 has physical and probably complex relations to our 
 atmosphere can hardly be doubted, though, unless 
 under the supposition of its identity with the electric 
 element, we are wholly ignorant of their nature. But 
 this very ignorance becomes itself an argument for 
 identity. I know no theory better fitted to expound 
 the various aspects and conflicts of atmospheric elec- 
 tricity than that I have stated. The interaction of 
 the two circumambient agents, ether and the atmo- 
 sphere, and the connexions of both, but especially of 
 the ether, with the solid matter of the globe, afford 
 relations various and complex enough to meet any 
 theoretical demand. 
 
 In dealing with this hypothesis it will be seen that 
 I have put all the main points interrogatively, as befits 
 a matter in which there is nothing yet susceptible of 
 proof It is not, however, too much to hope for a time 
 in the future when some higher mastery may be ob- 
 tained over these abstruse problems, and when the 
 great forces that move the material world, including 
 gravitation among them, may be submitted to some 
 more general law, giving unity to phenomena which are 
 incongruous or dissevered to our present knowledge. ^ 
 
 In a letter to Sir J. Herschel (July 1870), in reply 
 to one from him on this subject, I summarise as 
 follows the purport of the foregoing paper. 
 
 ^ The hypothesis I have sought in this paper to uphold has found a 
 powerful advocate in M. Savowing, whose excellent memoir, Sur la 
 Fhydque Moderne ('Revue des Deux Mondes,' November and December, 
 1866), 1 have just peruRed. There are points in his argument which he 
 has put more forcibly than I have done. There are certain points in 
 my statement of the queytion to which he has not adverted. 
 
THE ELECTRIC ELEMENT. 93 
 
 The phenomena of electricity in their largest scope 
 (and especially those of evolution, conduction, and ac- 
 cumulation) give reason to beheve that a material element 
 is concerned in producing them. Can we conceive other 
 element better fitted to fulfil the conditions required 
 than the ether of space, from its admitted properties 
 as the transmitting medium of light and heat — fi:om its 
 pervading as such all grosser forms of matter — and 
 from the strong presumption that its property may or 
 must be altered by the various conditions of the matter 
 it pervades? 
 
 This is the outline of the argument. To these 
 points, and to the others dwelt upon in the paper, must 
 be appended the remark, needing to be kept in mind, 
 that however unable upon this hypothesis to solve the 
 most perplexing of problems of electricity and magnet- 
 ism, the same objection exists, in at least equal degree, 
 to the hypothesis of any other special element as con- 
 cerned in these phenomena. 
 
 Note added m 1873. 
 
 See Edling's remarkable paper (translated in ' Philo- 
 sophical Magazine,' August 1872, on Electricity as a 
 Function of Ether, indicating this hypothesis (alge- 
 braically as well as otherwise) in its application to the 
 most difficult problems of electricity especially. See 
 also Clarke Maxwell's Lecture at the Royal Institution 
 (February 21, 1873), and the report of it in 'Nature,' 
 February 29, and March 6, 1873, particularly the latter, 
 in relation to Faraday's 'great discovery of the electric 
 magnetic rotation of light.' 
 
94 
 
 MENTAL OPERATIONS IN RELATION TO TIME. 
 
 1867. 
 
 Despite the endless treatises on the Mind, its faculties 
 and functions, there are still methods of studying it less 
 regarded than they might be, seeing the curious and 
 instructive analysis they afford. The method I now 
 seek to suggest comes amongst these. It involves no 
 metaphysical theory, and admits of being stated in plain 
 language. Its purport is simply to examine the opera- 
 tions of mind in their relation to time — viewing them 
 as a series or succession of states, rather than as a group 
 of simultaneous conditions. The analysis is not that of 
 the mental faculties in the abstract, but of the modes 
 in which they are severally and successively brought 
 into action, taking time as the test and exponent of 
 their succession. 
 
 This method of enquiry forms in effect the subject 
 of two chapters in my volume of ' Mental Physiology.' 
 I have there shown how much of striking illustration 
 we can bring to the acts and moods of mind by thus 
 viewing them in their relation of sequence. The con- 
 sciousness of everyone tells of this sequence as a 
 simple fact, and it is implied, if not expressed, in all 
 that has been written on the functions of the senses, on 
 association, memory, and the mental emotions ; but 
 never, as far as I know, distinctly recognised as a 
 
MENTAL OPERATIONS IN RELATION TO TIME. 95 
 
 method of enquiry. Yet if we may admit that the in- 
 dividual being (das Ich of the Germans) cannot exist 
 in two separate states of perception, thought, feeUng, 
 or voUtion at the same absolute instant of time, we do 
 in fact denote a special mode of analysis, capable of 
 explaining many phenomena — anomahes as well as 
 morbid conditions of mind — which resist all other inter- 
 pretations. 
 
 However difficult or impossible it may be to dis- 
 sever and distinguish the momentary states, which in 
 their aggregate form our existence, still they are sequent 
 moments — a measiurement of mental time, we might 
 say — were it not that consciousness, even when thus 
 directed, can hardly take account of the rapid and in- 
 cessant changes imposed upon it. There is a certain 
 chronometry, often very exact, in the functions of organic 
 life. We cannot thus describe the fleeting operations of 
 mind — the infinitesimal fiuxions^ we may call them, of 
 thought and feeling. But neither can we reason at all 
 on these acts or states without regarding them as se- 
 quent, and ever displacing one another in that series 
 which gives personal identity to our being. What has 
 been so much written upon under the term of Associa- 
 tion of Ideas might better perhaps have been described 
 as Succession. We cannot well part with the plirase of 
 personal ide7itity^ yet that of personal continuity might 
 perhaps better describe the series of states forming in 
 their aggregate the individual life of man. 
 
 In the chapters just alluded to I have given various 
 examples of this mode of viewing the mental functions. 
 One or two such I cite here, as illustrative of the argu- 
 
96 MENTAL OPERATIONS IN RELATION TO TIME. 
 
 ment in hand. An instance familiar to all is that 
 sudden and entire absorption of consciousness by some 
 inward thought, even when the senses are submitted 
 to the strongest impressions from without, as from the 
 loudest swell of a Handel chorus or the rudest noises 
 of a London street, or when fronting the Matterhorn 
 or the Niagara Falls. The physical action on the 
 organs of sense is the same, but the mind is working 
 within itself, and all perception of external objects 
 utterly annulled for a time. But let this cause of 
 distraction be removed, and the mind is suddenly 
 opened to the objects of sense before it, which may 
 themselves again be as suddenly suspended by some 
 new and abstracting thought. Or suppose some strong 
 agitation of the mind, from whatever cause. For the 
 moment it displaces all perception or feeling of other 
 things, but is itself as suddenly obhterated by the in- 
 trusion of other objects of sensation or thought, recur- 
 ring in all its force when these objects are removed. 
 Such alternations of state, repeated again and again 
 more or less rapidly, must be familiar to everyone even 
 commonly observant of his mental relation to the daily 
 incidents of life. In truth the whole of mental life 
 consists in these successive changes, so far interpreted 
 by time that each one may be regarded as having its 
 own identity, however momentary in duration and how- 
 ever linked with antecedents and consequents by what 
 seems an inseparable continuity. 
 
 I believe, however, that more may be done ana- 
 lytically by taking time as a basis than in any other 
 way. It requires, indeed, that faculty which few can 
 
MENTAL OPERATIONS IN RELATION TO THIE. 97 
 
 fully or fairly exercise, of turning the mind inwards 
 upon its own operations. Even the most stable mind 
 caimot long maintain this reflex action upon itself with- 
 out confusion and fatigue ; the difference of the power 
 in different individuals involving various diversities of 
 intellect and character which admit no other interpre- 
 tation. But the most closely directed consciousness 
 can only tell generally and vaguely of the rapidity with 
 which successive states of mind press upon one another 
 even in their most ordinary sequence.' As in reason- 
 ing upon the divisibility of matter we use the term of 
 Infinite to cloke our want of comprehension of its ulti- 
 mate analysis, so in regard to mind, the number and 
 rapid succession of its states, whether of thought, emo- 
 tion, or will, make it next to impossible to discover by 
 consciousness the continuity of the series. Who can 
 imravel the sequences even in the most familiar acts of 
 life, as in the thoughts and vohtions which precede 
 and produce speech ? Who can decipher that com- 
 plex and seemingly simultaneous action of mind and 
 bodily organs which enables the musician, from notes 
 before his eye, to execute the most diflicult passages 
 with fingers and voice at once ? Or how must we in- 
 terpret the wonderful yet familiar fact of a man read- 
 ing aloud, line after line, without error or stop, while 
 his thoughts are wandering on some matter wholly 
 alien to the book before him ? 
 
 ^ M. Comte has strangely denied the competence of consciousness as 
 an interpreter of mental functions, This seems to me sheer paradox. I 
 have admitted the difficulties of the appeal to the mind for a record of 
 itself. But whether using the word consciousness, or any other, no doubt 
 can exist of the reality of the subjective knowledge thus obtained. 
 
 H 
 
98 MENTAL OPERATIONS IN RELATION TO TIME. 
 
 These and endless like instances might seem to 
 sanction the belief in an absolute co- existence as to 
 time of different states or acts of mind, and especially 
 of those in which volition is concerned. Such, indeed, is 
 the opinion held by Sir William Hamilton, and expressed 
 in the term of Association of Ideas. It is difficult here 
 to rescue the truth from the verbal and other ambigui- 
 ties which beset it. But I am led to believe that Sir 
 William did not sufficiently regard the inconceivable 
 rapidity of these sequences of mental state — a rapidity 
 such that to all consciousness it becomes continuity — 
 nor make due allowance for those acts become so far 
 automatic from habit that consciousness and volition 
 have lost all direct relation to them. His argument 
 that it would be impossible to compare or discriminate 
 perceptions and ideas unless they were simultaneously 
 present to the mind, implies a deeper knowledge of all 
 such functions than we really possess. It is in truth as 
 difficult to conceive the mutual relations of simultaneous 
 states of mind, as of those directly successive ; and 
 where the action of the will on the bodily organs is 
 concerned our ignorance is equally complete.^ 
 
 But what is this will or volition of which we all 
 speak so fluently, but w^hich it puzzles the most pro- 
 found philosophy truly to define ? We have nothing 
 to do here with the old question of ' Necessity and 
 Free-will' — that metaphysical and religious puzzle of 
 all ages, the pith of which Milton has gathered up into 
 
 * In Aristotle's treatise Ufpl alaQljmwg there is a curious discussion 
 upon the question of the possible co-existence of different sensations iv 
 
MENTAL OPERATIONS IN RELATION TO TIME. 99 
 
 one grand line of his poem. We are now regarding 
 simply that faculty through which the mind acts upon 
 matter without, and especially upon that body with which 
 it individually co-exists — a co-existence so mysterious 
 that language applied to it is but a shelter to our igno- 
 rance. Neither into tliis problem need we enter here. 
 What bears more upon our subject is the fact, well 
 attested by experience, that actions produced at first by 
 express volition gradually assume from repetition much 
 of the character and force of instincts. The will initi- 
 ates some act of change. The subordinate acts fulfilling 
 the intent become in the end so automatic that con- 
 sciousness is lost in their rapid and unerring sequences. 
 We will to walk, to talk, to read, to write. In the 
 child each particular part of these acts requires a spe- 
 cial direction of mind, an effort of will. As life goes on, 
 and they become habitual from repetition, the mind 
 may be said to relegate a part of its power to the bodily 
 organs. It puts them into action, stops or controls 
 them, but has no separate consciousness of these 
 multitudinous motions, rapid almost to continuity, me- 
 thodised automatically, and synchronous for different 
 organs. 
 
 These automatic acts, in their various relations to 
 the intellect, will, and passions of man, as well as in 
 their relations to the instincts of other and lower ani- 
 mals, form a part of the great network of hfe, which 
 neither philosophy nor science have yet unravelled. 
 It is on these acts, as associated with volition, that 
 I believe mainly to depend the theory of a possible 
 
 H 2 
 
100 MENTAL OPERATIONS IN RELATION TO TIME. 
 
 absolute synchronism of separate states or acts of mincl.^ 
 But despite the difficulties of language the question 
 on which I am writing may again be inteUigibly stated. 
 Is it not a more exact as well as simpler conception of 
 mental phenomena to regard their connexion as one of 
 series and succession, rather than of synchronous or co- 
 existing functions ? When the mind is in one distinct 
 state of thought or emotion, can another and different 
 state supervene without removal of the former ? The 
 distinction here cannot be challenged as one of method 
 merely. But, in truth, method itself, in a research thus 
 complex and obscure,, is one of the conditions most 
 essential to success. And, as already said, I think that 
 which I am now suggesting to be valuable, not solely 
 as subsidiary to others, but as itself affording results 
 which no others can equally obtain. To use two Greek 
 words actually applied under similar purport, I prefer 
 the ypaixixY} rather than the xdx'kog as a foundation for 
 mental analysis. 
 
 In speaking just now of volition, I had chiefly in 
 view the action of this power on or through the mate- 
 rial organs. But also in regard to the purely mental 
 processes, the same question presses upon us, ' What is 
 the will ? ' How far by effort of mind can we govern 
 the sequences of thought, and those great functions of 
 
 ^ Sir W. Hamilton encounters the question, before taken up by 
 Abraham Tucker, Bonnet, and others, what number of objects the mind 
 can embrace at once. He tried the experiment with marbles thrown on 
 the floor, and found reason to believe that the mind could simultaneously 
 gi'asp the number six. Mr. David Forbes (' Nature,' Feb. 9, 1871), by 
 similar experiment with beans, limited the number to four or five. But 
 this is a form of trial in which the sense is mainly concerned. 
 
MENTAL OPERATIONS IN RELATION TO TIME. 101 
 
 memory and association, through which these sequences 
 are especially manifested ? 
 
 To answer this question we might well put aside 
 the word Will altogether, as one so variously and 
 vaguely used, both in philosophy and common hfe, 
 that it perplexes rather than clears the path of enquiry. 
 It is hard indeed to find any simple term wherewith to 
 express the poteiitiality of the mind over its own ope- 
 rations. Where even consciousness draws so shadowy 
 a line between what is voluntary and involuntary-r- 
 where association of ideas expressed by their sequence 
 occurs so often independently of the will, or even 
 despite it — and where the power of controlling this 
 sequence varies so much in different minds and at dif- 
 ferent times in the same mind, we must needs feel 
 that we are immersed in a metaphysical mist, which it 
 is difficult either to illumine or disperse. The faculty 
 of volition, if such we may term it, is so inextricably 
 blended with what is automatic in the acts of memory 
 and association, that we can draw no distinct line of 
 disseverment, nor even mark by consciousness when 
 volition is lost in successions of mind which it does not 
 control, or in bodily actions which habit has rendered 
 next to instinctive.^ 
 
 Here again the method of enquiry, by succession in 
 time, seems to me to go farthest in explanation of the 
 
 ^ A curious illustration of the difficulty besettiug these questions is 
 the doubt still propounded, whether we think in tvords. Several writers 
 (Schelling and Hegel among the Germans) hold that there must be 
 language in thought as a necessity of the mental act — an opinion not 
 easy to reconcile with the fact that other animals think as well as man ; 
 but worth noticing in proof of the obscurity that clouds over the most 
 familiar functions of mental life. 
 
102 MENTAL OPERATIONS IN RELATION TO TIME. 
 
 phenomena — a limited interpretation, it is true, since 
 we really know nothing of that mysterious mechanism 
 by which one thought engenders another, or the 
 memories of past things are revived, sometimes after 
 half a life has gone by without a shadow of them having 
 crossed us. All that has been written upon the asso- 
 ciation of ideas and memory, with or without the aid 
 of cerebral anatomy, is but a confession of this igno- 
 rance. The work of Hartley, which I can recollect as 
 still in some repute, was a futile attempt to explain 
 phenomena mechanically, which the better science of 
 our own time has shown to be inapplicable. 
 
 Eeceding from what is impossible, let us see what 
 may really be gained by this manner of regarding the 
 mental states as a series successive in time. And first, 
 as to the amount of power the mind has, or habitually 
 exercises, in determining these successions. Such power 
 is evidently a limited and fluctuating one. Thoughts 
 and emotions are ever coming in upon us unbidden or 
 despite the will ; clinging to us as moments of mental 
 existence with more or less tenacity, displaced either 
 by mental effort or by external causes. All this is true 
 as regards the action and changes of the mind within 
 itself, apart from things without. I am speaking here 
 of what are really familiar facts, but not duly noted as 
 such, or followed to the conclusions they suggest. 
 
 Foremost among such conclusions is that of the 
 great difference of different minds, as regards the 
 power of governing these sequences of state-^of initia- 
 ting a series, and holding to it steadily, despite hin- 
 drances from without — and changing or suspending the 
 
MENTAL OPERATIONS IN RELATION TO TIME. 103 
 
 succession by effort of will. No one can fail to recog- 
 nise the reality of these differences. Who does not 
 see in them the material for definition of the highest 
 forms of intellectual power ? This faculty of govern- 
 ing and directing the operations of mind — one of the 
 peculiar prerogatives of man — expresses in its degree 
 the superiority of one man to another. Let the test 
 be applied to those whom we meet in the familiar in- 
 tercourse of life. You see the mind of one man sub- 
 mitted to vague and incoherent associations, unable to 
 maintain continuity of thought, or to disengage itself 
 from any dominant idea or feeling of the moment. 
 Contrasted with this defect is the power, just denoted, 
 of guiding and controlhng the operations which form 
 in themselves our intellectual and moral existence — a 
 power varying in every degree — ^innate for the most 
 part in the individual, but susceptible of change from 
 the incidents and conditions of life — necessary to the 
 highest grades of mental excellence; but in its en- 
 feeblement, from whatever cause, reducing man to a 
 lower level of mental being. 
 
 It is not easy to find language for the exigencies of 
 this enquiry. We are speaking at once of mental 
 operations and of the power of the mind to change and 
 control them. How are we to separate and distin- 
 guish functions thus blended in one identity of exist- 
 ence? The ancients in some sort did it, by their 
 distinction of the vov*; and xJjvxtJ ; the latter represent- 
 ing a higher spirituality, farther removed from the 
 material world. Our own words, mind, soul, &c., are 
 perhaps less definite, yet all tend to denote, however 
 
104 MENTAL OPERATIONS IN RELATION TO TIME. 
 
 vaguely, a line dividing the more mechanical functions 
 of the mind from that higher individuality, which is 
 conscious of itself in itself But here again we are met 
 and entangled by the new doctrine of unconscious cere- 
 bration — a perplexing phrase, yet not more perplexing 
 than the function it professes to describe. We admit, 
 and are arguing upon, that succession of mental states 
 which in their series form the individuality of our 
 being ; partly governed by the will, partly automatic 
 from habit or the influence of the external senses. But 
 this hypothesis, yet unproved, of ' unconscious cere- 
 bration ' supposes intellectual operations in which con- 
 sciousness has no part, but which nevertheless evolve 
 true logical results. It is difficult enough to interpret 
 the phenomena of sleep and dreaming. But here we 
 are called on to recognise an exclusion of mind from 
 the highest function of mind — a stretch of metaphy- 
 sical paradox hard to admit, even while confessing our 
 ignorance as to those other relations of the simply 
 material and spiritual in our nature which no analysis 
 can reach. 
 
 Eeverting now to our especial enquiry, we find 
 much to illustrate the value of the mode of research I 
 have sought to indicate. Take, for instance, the un- 
 doubted fact that the operations of some men's minds 
 are more rapid in logical sequences than those of 
 others. Such inequality has been shown to exist in the 
 time required for transmission to the sensorium of 
 actions on the organs of sense, and of vohtions con- 
 veyed to the motor organs. The experiments of 
 Helmholtz and Du Bois Eaymond on the rate of trans- 
 
MENTAL OPERATIONS IX RELATION TO TIME. 105 
 
 iniission of nervous power come in evidence here, as 
 also the curious facts deduced from delicate astro- 
 nomical observations, showing that different observers 
 perceive and record phenomena under appreciable 
 average difierences of time.^ We go but little beyond 
 their material evidence in asserting that one mind is 
 more rapid than another in the pure operations of 
 thought, whether governed by the will or not. Common 
 observation liere gives cogent proof, not solely of 
 differences in the minds of others, but of diversities, 
 w^ell worthy of note, occurring at different times in our 
 own. Who is not conscious to liimself of moments 
 when thoughts stream through the mind with more 
 than wonted force and rapidity ? when, to use Locke's 
 words, ' the mind will press forwards, and there is no 
 holding it in ? ' Who, on the other hand, is not con- 
 scious of times when the faculties are sluggish, when 
 reason halts as if unable to pursue a train of thought, 
 and the mind passes into vacant reverie, or is domi- 
 nated over by some single idea from which it cannot 
 disengage itself? Even the simple act of reading be- 
 comes an experiment of the differences of time in the 
 reception of ideas in different persons. Some, as a sort 
 of necessity, read or utter each word singly ; others 
 compass the meaning of many words by a glance. 
 Some explanation may be given of their diversities 
 
 ^ My friend Professor Mitchell, of the Cincinnati and Albany Obser- 
 vatories, published a formula of personal equation, founded on the relative 
 aptitudes of different observers as expressed by time. On this subject I 
 would advert to a curious passage in Lucretius (ii. 262 et seq.), where he 
 adverts to time as intervening between the act of the will, and the 
 sequent effect on the bodily organs. 
 
106 MENTAL OPERATIONS IN RELATION TO TIME. 
 
 through that view of the phenomena of sleep which I 
 have dwelt upon elsewhere, as the only just exponent 
 of this great function of our nature. But self-conscious- 
 ness is the only true interpreter of these changes of 
 mood and state, which are ever going on in the indi- 
 vidual mind, from causes objective or subjective, known 
 or unknown. 
 
 I have already spoken of the difficulty of thus 
 turning the mind inwards upon its own acts and states. 
 A yet greater difficulty is that of self-experiment upon 
 the conditions — to try, for instance, what can be done 
 by pure effort of will in determining the objects and 
 sequences of thought which, in their common course, 
 are so largely governed by automatic associations of 
 former images and memories. An act of recollection 
 may in some sort be called an exercise of the mind 
 upon itself. But I have sometimes in my own case 
 tnade more explicit trial of this kind, making time a 
 part and test of the experiment. Within a minute I 
 have been able to coerce the mind, so to speak, into 
 more than a dozen acts or states of thought, so in- 
 congruous that no natural association could possibly 
 bring them into succession. In illustration I note here 
 certain objects which, with a watch before me, I have just 
 succeeded in compressing, distinctly and successively, 
 within thirty seconds of time — the pyramids of Ghizeh; 
 the Ornithorhynchus, Julius Caesar, the Ottawa Falls, 
 the rings of Saturn, the Apollo Belvedere. This is an 
 experiment I have often made on myself, and with the 
 same general result. It would be hard to name or 
 describe the operation of mind by which these successive 
 
MEXTAL OPERATIONS IX RELATION TO TOIi:. 107 
 
 objects have been thus suddenly evoked and dismissed. 
 There is the volition to change ; but how must we 
 define that effort by which the mind, without any 
 principle of selection or association, can grasp so rapidly 
 a succession of images thus incongruous, drawn seem- 
 ingly at random from past thoughts and memories? 
 I call it an effort^ because it is felt as such, and cannot 
 be long continued without fatigue. But it can hardly 
 be called an effort of ivill, since this seems to do nothing 
 more than make the mind a tabula rasa for the moment, 
 to receive the new objects so strangely — I might almost 
 say, irrationally — wTitten upon it. The whole conies 
 within those mysterious inter-relations of mental life of 
 which we can only truly speak in confession of our 
 ignorance. 
 
 Quitting this instance of what might be called a 
 play of the mind upon itself, I may notice other cases 
 illustrative, more or less, of that succession in time of 
 mental acts which, as a basis of enquiry, I am seeking 
 to suggest. I have already alluded to the great 
 diversities in that power, by which we give connexion 
 and order to the sequences of thought, constituting 
 what is called Eeason. It is as curious as instructive 
 to study men's minds through their different syllogistic 
 capacities. Locke says : ' There are some men of one 
 syllogism, some of two syllogisms, and no more ; ^ and 
 he might have denoted yet more forcibly those diver- 
 sities which render the processes and results of one 
 man's reasoning absolutely unintelligible to others. It 
 may further be observed how curiously the sequences 
 in some minds are dislocated^ as it were, from all 
 
108 MENTAL OPERATIONS IN RELATION TO TIME. 
 
 common and natural connexions. The thoughts in 
 such persons are inconsecutive and fragmentary ; and 
 the mind, working dreamily within itself, takes little 
 heed of what comes from without, even of the responses 
 of common conversation. Some of these cases, of which 
 I have seen many, tend to more serious mental aberra- 
 tion, forming one of the several links with insanity 
 under the multiform shapes which mental maladies 
 assume. All these abnormal states form a large school 
 for study, in reference to the successions and correla- 
 tions of mental acts of which I have now been speaking. 
 The idiot and the maniac interpret to us many of the 
 conditions of the soundest and most capacious minds.^ 
 
 How different, again, are the m,odes of thinking of 
 the same mind at different times ! I have already 
 alluded to this ; but everyone who cares to do so may 
 collect illustrations replete with interest from his own 
 consciousness. Take the instance of that sudden 
 quickening and elevation of mental power which is 
 obtained when the faculties are strongly evoked by 
 occasion or necessity, as in public speaking, in close 
 and cogent argument, in the repartee of wit. The case 
 of the orator is perhaps the most striking. As he 
 warms with his theme — ' ubi res agitur, et vera dimi- 
 catio est* — thoughts, memories, images, and words 
 crowd upon him for utterance with unwonted rapidity, 
 and for a time his mind seems raised to a higher level 
 of genius and power. Conversely, the faculties which 
 
 * When Roger North describes his brother Dr. John North as ^ the 
 most intense and passionate thinker who ever lived and was in his right 
 mind,' he is using phrases which do not go beyond the frequent reality. 
 
MENTAL OPERATIONS IN RELATION TO TDIE. 109 
 
 are capable of being thus quickened and invigorated 
 by intellectual society and struggle are seen or felt 
 to decline in power when brought into contact with 
 feebler intellects and frivolous subjects of thought. 
 Such instances are familiar to all who take even 
 ordinary note of mental phenomena in themselves and 
 others. The mind rises or falls from the conditions to 
 which it is subjected. 
 
 This whole subject of its transient states is, in truth, 
 a very curious one, and not, I think, adequately studied. 
 It embraces, of course, not merely momentary changes 
 like those just described, but those larger fluctuations 
 which the totality of life brings before us — changes 
 belonging to the different ages of man, the appurte- 
 nance of poetry as well as philosophy, and finely por- 
 trayed by the genius of Horace and Shakespeare. But 
 the daily and hourly fluctuations of state are those of 
 most import to the philosophy of mind. Eochefoucauld 
 says, and truly, ' On est quelquefois aussi different de 
 soi-meme que des autres.* We speak of the mind as a 
 unit, and in the broad sense of personal identity it is 
 so. But within this individuality lie those many and 
 ever-changing diversities of intellect and feelings which 
 enter into the current of each single life. Observation 
 unceasingly tells us of the influences alike of external 
 and internal causes in producing these transient states 
 of mind. Hunger and satiety, heat and cold, fatigue 
 and repose, exuberant health and the languor oF dis- 
 ease, are the commonplace interpreters of the fact. 
 Opium, wine, and the other narcotics and stimulants, 
 each has its peculiar effect for a time on this the higher 
 
110 MENTAL OPERATIONS IN RELATION TO TIME. 
 
 part of our nature. So much must be conceded to the 
 materiahst, whatever use he may make of it. Look, 
 too, at the influence of weather on the mind, felt, in- 
 deed, more generally than is recognised. He must be 
 a man of blunt sensibility who is not exhilarated by a 
 sudden burst of sunshine amidst the clouds and gloom 
 of a stormy day, or softened by the still repose of a 
 summer evening. 
 
 These continuous changes may be said, in fact, to 
 embody in themselves the totality of hfe, of which they 
 are the active and direct expression. Occurring in 
 those whose lot is cast in the higher places of the 
 world, the effects of such passing moods of mind are 
 often wide and lasting. The obscm^e or secret por- 
 tions of history, cherished as such by learned and 
 ingenious historians, might in many cases, I doubt not, 
 be best construed through these erratic states of our 
 common nature which govern monarchs, ministers, and 
 leaders of armies, as well as lesser men. There is more 
 of this in the philosophy of history than can ever be 
 told. 
 
 A few remarks still remain before quitting our en- 
 quiry. I have already suggested that the term of suc- 
 cession might well be substituted for that of association 
 of ideas. It is obvious tliat the acts or states of 
 memory, the most mechanical of the intellectual func- 
 tions, must come under the same view ; and the vaga- 
 ries^ as they may well be called, of this great function 
 are in truth best interpreted by this method of enquiry. 
 Eecollection, however (the dvdfivr)cn<; of Aristotle, who 
 Avell draws the distinction), has a higher interest as an 
 
MENTAL OPEIL\TIONS IX RELATION TO TIME. Ill 
 
 active faculty of mind, and one which strikingly illus- 
 trates the diversity of power in different individuals as 
 well as in the same person at different times. I might 
 say much on these phenomena of memory and recol- 
 lection, as bearing on the subject before us ; but they 
 are too numerous and complex to be dealt with as a 
 mere appendage to other enquiry. 
 
 Another remark, however, occurs which cannot 
 well be detached from the general method of enquiry 
 I am sugesting. In writing elsewhere on the pheno- 
 mena of sleep and dreams I have noticed our imper- 
 fect knowledge of these functions, as concerns the 
 changes they presumably undergo at different ages, 
 and under different conditions of life. This remark 
 apphes not less to the processes and associations of the 
 waking mind. We go but partially to work in analy- 
 sing the acts of the adult and cultivated intellect. The 
 observation of these needs to be supplemented by a 
 knowledge, much more difficult to obtain, of the con- 
 ditions of uneducated infancy and childhood — of the 
 intellectual imbecihties of old age — of the deficiencies 
 and aberrations of the idiot and lunatic — of the mind 
 of the rustic or of the factory operative, his life a 
 machine of manual labour. Not only the subjects of 
 thought, but the power ^ methods^ and rates of thinking 
 are presumably as diverse in these several cases as are 
 the conditions themselves. In most of them the 
 materials on which the mind acts are fewer and more 
 simple, and their combinations proportionally less 
 complex. Admitting exceptions for certain forms of 
 lunacy, we may presume the succession of mental 
 
112 MENTAL OPERATIONS IN RELATION TO TIME. 
 
 states, of perceptions, acts of reason and volitions, to 
 be generally less rapid and their changes less various 
 in these instances ; and, what tells more in the in- 
 tellectual comparison, the power of the mind over its 
 own sequent operations is feebler and less coercive. 
 The differences may be of degree only, but they gra- 
 duate between the intellect of an infant or idiot and 
 that of a Newton or Shakespeare. 
 
 I might from my notes add something more on this 
 interesting topic. But I have said enough, I hope, to 
 mark it out as a special path by which to seek further 
 ingress into the mysteries of our mental nature — a 
 path, however, like any other having this direction, 
 stopped at the same point by a barrier insuperable 
 to all. 
 
113 
 
 ASTRONOMY AS A SCIENCE.— THE SUN. 
 
 What I may write under this title will be but a partial 
 glance at that progress in Astronomy, which more than 
 ever marks this science as one of the most wonderful, 
 but not duly appreciated, attainments of man. 
 
 I know no case in which the marvellous is so lost 
 in the familiar as the indifference with which men 
 gaze on the stars of heaven on a night of clear sky. 
 Were it one star or planet only, or the multitude seen 
 for the first time, the sight would be felt as one of 
 wonder and awe. Such feeling is finely expressed by 
 Pascal and Kant in noble passages of their writings. 
 But it is lost by repetition, even to those who know 
 the grandeur of the objects — the magnitudes, distances, 
 and periods of time, with which astronomy as a science 
 is concerned. We look at the full moon and on the 
 swelhng tide of a great river, ignorant or failing to feel 
 the grandeur of that mysterious power which gives 
 physical connexion to objects seemingly thus remote. 
 Men and women come out of their crowded assemblies 
 at midnight and look up to the dome of heaven and 
 its ' patines of bright gold' w^ith less interest than to 
 the ceiling of the theatre or the lights of the ballroon 
 they have just left. The great zone of the Milky Way, 
 with its lustre of innumerable worlds, is seen without 
 
 I- 
 
114 ASTRONOMY AS A SCIEXCE. — THE SUN. 
 
 amazement ; though even ancient poetry described it 
 as the ' Via in coelo sublimis,' the ' Iter ad alta tecta 
 Tonantis.' One who passes from the hazy skies of our 
 island to the splendid midnights of the Mediterranean 
 or of tropical lands, may for a time be moved by the 
 wonderful spectacle above him. But familiarity here 
 also speedily deadens the impression, save to such a 
 poet's eye as that of Lucretius, who in some of his 
 finest lines (ii. 1025 et seq.) attributes the difference 
 with which these wonders are regarded to the cause 
 just stated. 
 
 Paley says, and rightly, that astronomy does not 
 furnish the best argument to natural theology. The 
 objects are too vast, and their final purpose too obscure, 
 for a just appreciation in this sense. A single fitness 
 to some manifest purpose in a single organ of the body 
 affords more instant and entire conviction. Stellar 
 astronomy in particular, as developed by the labours 
 of the last hundred years, deals with numbers and dis- 
 tances so far beyond all comprehension, that common 
 behef recoils at the very ingress to this great vision of 
 the universe ; and higher intellects can hardly pursue 
 the facts admitted to the conclusions they involve. I 
 have known men of strong reasoning powers, but 
 otherwise directed, sceptical as to their reality, and 
 needing to be told of the return of Halley's comet or 
 Encke's at the predicted time, and of eclipses and tran- 
 sits exact to the minute foretold long before, or to be 
 shown a nebulous spot in the sky resolved by the tele- 
 scope into innumerable stars, before their belief could 
 be got for the yet more profound attainments of the 
 
ASTROXOMY AS A SCIEN^CE. — THE SUN. 115 
 
 science. Certain of the most striking discoveries of 
 the elder Herschel — such as the motion of the sun and 
 its planets in space, and the results derived from his 
 method of gauging the heavens — were for a time 
 doubtfully received even by astronomers themselves. 
 
 At that period, indeed, the science had gone little 
 beyond the confines of the solar system in any scheme 
 of exact research. We had a partial nomenclature of 
 stars, and a knowledge of relative brightness and posi- 
 tion, the latter facts often expressed by whimsical 
 analoojies drawn from a distant and credulous ao^e. 
 The true sidereal astronomy is of recent date, and owes 
 much of its wonderfid achievements to the increased 
 power and perfection of the instruments employed. 
 It has now bridged over the interspace between our 
 own and other systems of worlds, and shown by sure 
 arguments from evidence that there is no actual gap in 
 the series — that some at least of the forces and ele- 
 ments in the worlds thus remote in the universe are 
 identical with those which give movement, order, and 
 life to the globe we inhabit — and that we may safely 
 affirm unity of cause, if not unity of laws, as regards 
 the whole. In this conclusion of the imity of crea- 
 tion, and therefore of the Creative Power, we have 
 the strongest argument which astronomy ministers 
 to natural theology. 
 
 But there is another proof, though less direct, to 
 be drawn from this source. Notwithstanding the 
 ignorance of the mass of mankind of the objects and 
 attainments of astronomy, the science itself is that 
 which best shows the intellectual capacities of man in 
 
 I 2 
 
116 ASTRONOMY AS A SCIENCE. — THE SUN. 
 
 their most exalted application. Testifying thus to the 
 highest conditions of mental endowment, it casts a reflex 
 light on that creative design and power which, what- 
 ever the manner of evolution, could bring these facul- 
 ties into existence and exercise. 
 
 Look simply at what this science expresses regard- 
 ing man in comparison with the animals nearest to 
 him in the scale of life. The hghts of heaven, the sun, 
 moon, and stars give images to the eyes of all these 
 creatures, as to those of the astronomer. But to them 
 they are images only, without note or result. To the 
 astronomer those simple circles and points of light are 
 the interpreters of the universe. He discovers through 
 their places, aspects, and motions those astonishing facts 
 as to space, time, and magnitude which figures fail to 
 express to the thought, and the laws which, with un- 
 erring power, pervade these vast spaces and periods 
 of time and govern all the movements and mutual 
 relations of the worlds around us. Few men reach 
 this high intellectual level, but man is the only being 
 to reach it. 
 
 Astronomy is rich in examples, but one or two may 
 suffice to show this meaning. A satellite has just been 
 discovered of Sirius — that great globe shown to be 
 equal in size and light to sixty of our suns, and some 
 millions of times more distant in space. A few years 
 ago Bessel, from a minute periodical variation in the 
 right ascension of this star, conjectured the existence 
 of such a satellite. It has now been seen, and with it 
 some fainter luminous points, the possible indices of a 
 planetary system of this great sun. But a short time 
 
ASTRONOMY AS A SCIENCE. — THE SUN. 117 
 
 before, the beam of light from Sirius (reaching the 
 earth after a passage of years through intervening 
 space) has been made to yield a photographic image 
 of the star and a spectrum with hues corresponding in 
 part with those of the sun — proving thereby the exist- 
 ence and identity of the chemical rays, and the presence 
 of certain material elements in this remote part of crea- 
 tion, which recent discoveries have shown to be in 
 common to the earth and the sun. 
 
 The researches now directed to this great centre of 
 our own system similarly attest the genius and suc- 
 cessful labours of modern astronomy. Some thu-ty 
 years ago it seemed as though our knowledge of the 
 sun had reached its highest possible attainment. Its 
 distance from the earth, its magnitude and specific 
 gravity, the laws by which it governs the orbital 
 motions of the planets and comets, its own proper 
 motion in space, the time of rotation on its axis, 
 and the dark spots on its surface indicating this 
 time ; its influence on the ocean-tides, &c. — all these 
 things had been either exactly or approximately de- 
 termined. The hght and heat of which it is the per- 
 petual fountain, though comprehended in their origin 
 only as emanations of force, had been the subjects of 
 admirable analysis in their passage through space in 
 the solar spectrum, and in their influences on matter, 
 living or lifeless, on our own globe. Speculation on 
 some points went further, but more exact science 
 for a time halted here. 
 
 It was but a halt, however, and this at the threshold 
 of what may almost be called a new science of the sun, 
 
118 ASTRO^^OMY AS A SCIENCE. — THE SUN. 
 
 such and so numerous have been the discoveries since 
 made. One of these, however, is the discovery of an 
 error. The mean distance of the sun from the earth 
 (calculated and accepted by astronomers upon a paral- 
 lax derived from two transits of Venus a century ago) 
 has been recently revised upon new bases of observa- 
 tion, and the estimate reduced by 3,000,000 of miles, 
 or about a thirtieth part. This correction may seem 
 trifling to those ignorant of the exactness of the science. 
 To the astronomer it is a weighty one, and the more 
 striking because derived from the concurrence of dis- 
 tinct sources of evidence. The direct proofs are from 
 astronomical observations, but one detached proof, sin- 
 gularly coinciding in date, deserves especial notice, as 
 being drawn from experiments by Foucault and Fizeau 
 on the velocity of light — some of these experiments of 
 such admirable subtlety of device and execution that 
 an apparatus confined to a single room sufficed to de- 
 monstrate the velocity of a ray, passing through 185,000 
 miles in a second of time ! This rate of motion, less 
 by 7,000 miles than that deduced from the occultation 
 of Jupiter's moons, almost exactly concurs w^ith the 
 correction just noticed as to the distance of the sun — a 
 coincidence satisfying the most rigid conditions of en- 
 quiry. No fact can better illustrate the prowess of 
 modern science, in continually bringing to the dis- 
 covery of a common truth phenomena and even laws 
 seemingly distinct in the natural world. 
 
 This remark applies not less to other polar pheno- 
 mena recently disclosed, and eminently to those great 
 discoveries by aid of the lines in the spectrum, which 
 
ASTRONOMY AS A SCIENCE. — THE SUN. 119 
 
 show the existence in the media enveloping the body 
 of the sun (photosphere, chromosphere, or by whatever 
 name designated) of various metalHc elements and gases 
 familiar to us on the surface of the earth. The methods 
 by which certainty has been given to this wonderful 
 result, while they illustrate the physical relations of all 
 that is greatest and smallest in the material world, do 
 also strikingly express that growth of intellectual power 
 through which man has reached a knowledge thus far 
 beyond that of all prior ages ; beyond even what might 
 seem the destined limit of human attainment. Nor is 
 any such hmit yet obvious to us. The very negation 
 of various terrestrial metals, shown by the absence in 
 the solar hght of the lines interpreting them, and the 
 existence of hnes in the spectrum to which we have no 
 index in our earthly catalogue, are facts equally preg- 
 nant for the future. Even while writing this paper, 
 with intent to illustrate by solar researches the present 
 aspect and aims of astronomical science, these re- 
 searches are in active, almost daily, progress ; bringing 
 before the eye movements and changes ever going on 
 upon the surface of this vast central luminary — ^pheno- 
 mena which, though of surpassing grandeur in their 
 scale, depend upon the presence in the sun of certain 
 material elements identical with matters ever present 
 and active on our own globe. It is well to note here, 
 as an index to the mutual relations of the physical 
 sciences, that chemistry, optics, electricity, and tele- 
 scopic observation are all concerned and blended in 
 the methods to which these discoveries are due. 
 
 We see the sun, then, no longer as a simple central 
 
120 ASTRONOMY AS A SCIENCE. — THE SUN. 
 
 globe, tranquilly diffusing its influences to the planets 
 in surrounding space, but as a vast body, undergoing 
 continual and violent clianges on its surface, and, it 
 may be, secular changes also, of which time only 
 can reveal the import and extent, but which, if exist- 
 ing, must assuredly alter some at least of the condi- 
 tions of our own planet. 
 
 But the science of the sun in our own day does not 
 stop here. Known in all ages as the source of light 
 and heat — in later times as the centre of planetary gra- 
 vitation, whatever that mysterious force may be — it 
 has now become known, though more imperfectly, in 
 its magnetic relations to the earth. This connexion, 
 equally mysterious, is made almost certain by the aver- 
 ages of long observation, involving not only the diur- 
 nal magnetic changes included within the solar hom's, 
 but also a seeming periodical coincidence between the 
 maxima and minima of solar spots, and the maxima 
 and minima of magnetic inequalities on the earth. 
 These relations, indeed, require to be attested and 
 defined by further research, comprising as they do the 
 theory of the magnetic force, still imperfect in its very 
 elements, and the physical conditions of the sun's sur- 
 face, not yet fully understood. But their existence is 
 sufficiently proved to carry conjecture beyond, to the 
 probable diffusion in more remote space and among 
 other globes of that elemental force, call it what we 
 will, which we know, as electricity, to be associated 
 with all states, forms, and changes of terrestrial matter, 
 and which we cannot suppose dormant or non-existing 
 among other worlds, subject to the same law of gravita- 
 
ASTRONOMY AS A SCIENCE. — ^THE SUN. 121 
 
 tion, emitting the same light, and even yielding in some 
 instances a certain evidence of the same material con- 
 stitution.^ 
 
 Eecurring, however, to the sun, as one more special 
 illustration of modern astronomy, we must look again 
 as a part of this science to tlie still unexhausted wonders 
 of the solar spectrum. This spectrum, formerly seen in 
 its prismatic colours only, has now become the expo- 
 nent of invisible rays, stretching far beyond its visible 
 extremities ; propertied as heat at one extremity, and 
 with those specific chemical actions at the other, which 
 have given a new and beautiful art to mankind. The 
 undulations conveying (or forming) the three powers 
 thus blended in a single beam have specific relations to 
 the different forms of matter on earth, such in kind and 
 so essential that life and organisation would cease to 
 exist deprived of their influence. Science is every day 
 disclosing new and unexpected relations to this effect ; 
 while the powerful prismatic spectroscopes now brought 
 into use are analysing, still more minutely, and under 
 varying conditions of heat and density in the gases 
 evolving them, those spectrum lines of different ele- 
 ments, the relations of which have given us such 
 unlooked for access to the matter of the sun itself. 
 
 This unceasing derivation of light and heat, and 
 perhaps other powers, from the sun — a derivation not 
 limited to our planet, a speck in the firmament, but 
 
 » Milton, in the phrases of his noble poetry, might almost be said to 
 predicate those discoveries of our own day. In the third book of ' Para- 
 dise Lost ' he speaks of the sun's magnetic beam, and in the same passage 
 of the arch-ehemic sun. A certain sort of inspiration and vaticination of 
 the future often seems to enter into the higher poetry of each age. 
 
122 ASTRONOMY AS A SCIENCE. — THE SUN. 
 
 ever going on in every direction of space ^ — has fur- 
 nished material for other more speculative questions 
 in solar science. How are the losses caused by these 
 emanations compensated or repaired? Or, seeking 
 the cloke of words, and saying that it is force and not 
 matter which is thus expended, how is force, in itself 
 a real existence, restored or renewed ? Eecent theory 
 has sought some answer to these questions in the sup- 
 position that heat at least may be regenerated in the 
 sun by the violent impact upon it of asteroids or nebu- 
 lous matter from surrounding space. This hypothesis 
 is at the best little more than conceivable. We have 
 evidence, indeed, that matter, under various forms, does 
 exist in interplanetary space, and that one or more 
 asteroidal rings have orbital motion round the sun, 
 coming into periodical contact with the orbit of the 
 earth. And could it be that the sun does derive incre- 
 ment of matter from these or other sources, we might 
 infer from analogy an evolution of heat from every such 
 impact on its surface. But admitting this, see how far 
 we yet are from any law of equivalence ! How unable 
 to strike a balance between loss and gain in these 
 mighty interchanges ! Or, again, if light and heat be 
 simply modes of motion, as modern science ventures to 
 define them, where are we to seek the source of repa- 
 ration in the sun, not indeed of substance, but of force 
 or propulsive power? To say that the aggregation of 
 new matter brings with it new power of this kind, is 
 
 * Calculation at this point shows that the earth receives but the 
 2,300-millionth part of the light and heat which the sun radiates into 
 space. 
 
ASTRONOMY AS A SCIENCE. — THE SUN. 123 
 
 little more than an affirmation of words, betokening, not 
 scientific facts, but conditions and conceptions which 
 science has failed to reach.^ 
 
 These, however, are speculative matters, contri- 
 buting little to the true physical history of the sun. 
 The solar spots, assiduously watched by such observers 
 as Schwabe, Carrington, De La Eue, Lockyer, &c., have 
 added much more to our actual knowledge, though 
 still leaving it incomj^lete as to their nature and origin. 
 The indication they give of rotary motions of the pho- 
 tosphere, varying at difierent distances from the sun's 
 equator, is one curious result of very recent observa- 
 tion. More curious still are those delicate and beauti- 
 ful observations with the spectroscope, which tell us, 
 without aid of eclipses, the nature of the curious rose- 
 coloured emanations from the sun's surface, hitherto so 
 vainly speculated upon ; and which in associating them 
 with the agency of known elements (however vast the 
 difference in degree) bring us nearer to that unity which 
 it is the purpose of all science to attain. Much is still 
 to be learnt regarding these gaseous solar envelopes, and 
 the changes unceasingly going on in them. But the 
 objects and methods of research are well defined, and 
 the zeal given to their pursuit is a sure guarantee of 
 success. 
 
 Time, however (supposing a sufficient duration of 
 
 ^ I find Professor Ohallis propounding another speculation on this 
 matter, viz., that the sun may be the recipient of undulations from 
 more remote stars — conveying them forwards through its own molecular 
 mass, and itself not losing power by this continual transmission. An 
 hypothesis of this kind tells little more than the intrinsic difiiculties of 
 the question. 
 
124 ASTRONOMY AS A SCIENCE. — THE SUN. 
 
 the human race on earth) seems the sole means of 
 solving that higher question, as to the proper motion of 
 the sun itself, together with its planets, in the universe 
 of space ? Whether what the short life of our astro- 
 nomy here shows but as a rectilinear motion in a given 
 direction through this vast void be not really the seg- 
 ment of an orbit round some centre of gravity yet 
 unknown ? All analogy points to this conclusion, but 
 of more direct evidence there is none. 
 
 Holding in view these various discoveries and the 
 speculations to which tliey legitimately lead, no one 
 having intellectual sensibility (a phrase I willingly 
 adopt) can regard without some emotion this great orb 
 of the sun, rising or setting on our earthly horizon — for 
 these are the times when it may best be seen — or 
 w^onder that there should have been races of men who 
 have viewed it as representing the Supreme Power of 
 the universe. The noble lines in which Milton addresses 
 light are a. hymn to the sun itself, as the source of that 
 wonderful element which pervades all space, minister- 
 ing to the least as well as to the greatest purposes and 
 acts of the Creative Power. In the foregoing paper I 
 have taken the sun as representing to those who are 
 not familiar with the subject the metliods and progress 
 of modern astronomy. Many other examples might 
 have been taken in illustration, but none more striking 
 than this. 
 
125 
 
 LIFE ON THE EARTH.— RELATIONS OF MAN 
 TO OTHER ANIMALS. 
 
 1868. 
 
 MoDERX SCIENCE has been active in decipliering the 
 succession and relation of different forms of hfe on the 
 earth. The grand marvel is the existence of life itself 
 All questions are subordinate to this, whether they 
 concern the innumerable forms now in being, or that 
 long and wonderful series of extinct existences which 
 fossil geology has disclosed. 
 
 What is Life ? It has undergone a dozen defini- 
 tions, some by very eminent authorities, but all liable, 
 more or less, to objection from error, incompleteness, 
 or obscurity. The problem has pressed upon q\qyj 
 age, and in our own time has been brought into 
 connexion with the latest discoveries of physical 
 science. Nevertheless, we still need a definition which 
 may satisfy all the essential conditions without becoming 
 valueless from its too great generality. That given 
 us by Aristotle, though involved in certain terms of 
 Greek philosophy, is as good as any that have succeeded 
 it. The well-known definition of Bichot : ' La vie est 
 I'ensemble des fonctions qui resistent k la mort,' and 
 that of the Encyclopedic, ' La vie est le contraire de la 
 mort,' are too epigrammatically negative to serve to 
 
126 LIFE ON THE EAKTH. 
 
 any use.^ They omit, moreover, that which is the very 
 essence of hfe, viz., that of reproducing hfe more or 
 less like in kind to itself. No definition can be good 
 which does not include the condition of an organisation 
 capable, by sexual or other means, of such repro- 
 duction. 
 
 The definition of hfe has been perplexed by other 
 ideas annexed to it. The terms ' vital principle,' ' vital 
 energy,' ' vital force,' &c., though needed for descrip- 
 tion, and which in one sense may be admitted as 
 reahties, do not really define anything that we can 
 construe to the understanding. We cannot assert, on 
 proof, that life is engendered by, or engenders, any 
 power or force special to itself. Nevertheless, in as- 
 suming, which we must do, that it transforms certain 
 known forces so as to appropriate them to its peculiar 
 functions, we virtually admit a special and character- 
 istic power, call it what we will. A formal definition 
 (which after all has very little scientific value) may 
 exclude what is thus ambiguous to our reason, but in 
 the present state of our knowledge the conception of 
 life embraces it by what is next to a necessity. 
 
 Something more may be said for bringing time, as 
 an element, into the definition sought for. Every form 
 of life, endlessly dissimilar though these forms be, has 
 its average period and term of existence, as well as 
 chronometry in its various particular functions. Growth, 
 
 ^ The definition by an eminent philosopher of our own day that life 
 is 'the continuous adjustment of internal relations to external relations/ 
 is subject to the same charge of a generality which lessens its scientific 
 value. 
 
LIFE ON THE EARTH. 127 
 
 maturity, final decay, and death belong to living orga- 
 nisation in its every shape on earth. 
 
 In what, and how, and when did life begin on our 
 globe ? In its lowest aspects, whether animal or ve- 
 getable, we see nothing more than a few material 
 elements, aggregated under the simplest forms, with 
 very few organic functions ; yet these so propertied as 
 to preserve existence for a certain time — to provide for 
 a succession of similar existences — to live and die. 
 From these simple conditions (taking animal life as 
 best in illustration), we find a series rising upwards 
 by broken steps to those which are most complex and 
 complete. In no part of this ascending scale is there 
 any very wide gap — what seemed in many instances to 
 be such having been partially filled up by recent 
 discovery in the living or in the fossil world. However 
 this series may have begun, and whether worked out 
 by progressive derivation or evolution within itself, or 
 by successive acts of special creative powers, equally 
 may we affirm the unity of scheme in this vast con- 
 nected scale, and the necessity of a First and Supreme 
 Designing Cause. If the endless forms, functions, and 
 instincts of life which we see around us be derived by 
 progressive changes, in unmeasured time, from a few 
 primitive types of being, such changes bespeak vital 
 laws and energies acting on matter through, or con- 
 currently with, the great forces of the natural world. 
 Under any and every view of the subject, intention by 
 some higher Power, however obscure to man as the 
 interpreter, is manifest as the foundation of the whole. 
 This is the sole standing-point to our reason, when 
 
128 LIFE ON THE EARTH. 
 
 regarding the origins, varieties, and perpetuations of 
 animal life on the earth. 
 
 The science of life, in truth, is yet in its infancy. 
 Modern physiology has done much in expounding the 
 material changes by which individual life, springing 
 from its germ, whether through ova, fission, or budding, 
 is matured and maintained, and those further changes 
 by which it comes to an end. But the ultimate mys- 
 tery of generation is yet unresolved, and every specu- 
 lation hitherto vain as to that vital function by which 
 life is begotten from life, with resemblances and differ- 
 ences equally inexplicable under any known physical 
 laws. Putting the point in a simple but cogent form 
 — What is that power, principle, or energy — call it as 
 you choose — which out of a single germ, or germs, or 
 germinal matter, or protoplasm (the names signify 
 little) invisible to the naked eye, can evolve, by gradual 
 accretion of fresh matter, the likeness of an anterior 
 being, even in its minute peculiarities of structure and 
 function — which, in the human being, for instance, 
 can reproduce, after the omission of one, two, or more 
 generations, some marked feature of face, some organic 
 or functional disease, or even, as races as well as 
 families show, certain mental characters and endow- 
 ments ? Or what, again, is that occult principle of life 
 in the seed which enables it, after the lapse of thirty 
 centuries, to germinate again into the perfect plant, 
 when the fitting conditions of light, heat, and atmo- 
 sphere are supplied? The molecular theory, which 
 serves to illustrate so many physical problems, is of no 
 avail here, nor does science through any other path 
 approach the solution of the mystery. 
 
LIFE ON THE EARTH. 129 
 
 We encounter at this point the question as to 
 'Spontaneous Generation,' a momentous enquiry, be- 
 queathed to us in a vague form from antiquity, and 
 recently revived under conditions of very deUcate 
 experimental research. Can matter of any kind, under 
 any circumstances, generate life without the presence 
 of the ova or germs of prior life ? Though the enquiry 
 has applied itself only to the lower forms of infusoria, it 
 is one of deep interest, wliatever the solution may be — 
 involving, as it does, in connexion with recent theories 
 of derivation and development, the whole question as 
 to the origin of life on the earth. The researches of 
 M. Pasteur, admirably guarded against all contingencies 
 of error, are in my mind next to conclusive in favour 
 of the old dogma, ' Omne animal ab ovo.' But the 
 opposite view sustained by Pouchet and others cannot 
 be put aside without further enquiry. And such is 
 now in progress, by methods which strikingly attest the 
 exquisite exactness of modern experiment. 
 
 Nothing more startles contemplation than the quan- 
 tity of life upon the earth. Around us, above us, be- 
 low us — air, ocean, lake, river, mountain, plains, and 
 forests — all nature teems with it ; from the eagle, 
 whale, and elephant downwards, to the monads and 
 vibriosi of infusorial life. Eecently even the bottom 
 of the sea, at the depth of two miles, has been found 
 laden with these forms of life, perfect in their indivi- 
 duahty, and not inferior in type to the kindred species 
 existing above. The enumeration of animal species, so 
 denominated, reaches at least 200,000, and is every 
 day augmenting. But this gives a feeble idea of those 
 
 K 
 
130 LIFE ON THE EARTH. 
 
 aggregates of individual lives, presented by single 
 species, generally in proportion to their minuteness. 
 All reckoning fails to reacli their numbers, or those of 
 the countless multitudes of organised existences which 
 perish as ova or before they come to maturity. Eveiy 
 book on natural history abounds in these facts; yet few 
 rightly comprehend them or feel adequately all that is 
 wonderful in this enormous multiphcity of life, and in 
 its renewal by reproduction, generation after genera- 
 tion, through successive ages of the globe. The most 
 minute insect or mollusc has its pedigree enrolled in 
 the great volume of life. If man could truly read 
 these histories some of the great problems of nature 
 might find their solution. 
 
 I may say for myself that I never enter the Natural 
 History Galleries of the British Museum or the Zoo- 
 logical Gardens witliout a feeling of amazement mixed 
 with awe. And this feeling is not lost, but intensified, 
 by contemplation of details. Whence and for what 
 purpose in creation this marvellous number and variety 
 of beings — of forms and organs, of instincts and ac- 
 tions ? The question cannot be evaded by reason, and 
 is not answered, even presumptively, by science. It 
 extends too beyond existing life (and with incalculable 
 time added as a part of the problem) to those fossil 
 vestiges of extinct life which now crowd upon us so 
 numerously from every part of the eartli. A single 
 footstep pressed on one of the walks of the London 
 Parks covers thousands of minute shells, each the 
 habitat once of a living animal. Every railway tunnel 
 under a chalk-hill carries us through massive rock, the 
 
LIFE ox THE EARTH. 131 
 
 workmanship in its origin of myriads of foraminifera. 
 That city of Eichmond, in Virginia, of the bloody 
 struggle around which I have recently been a personal 
 witness, stands upon a foundation of infusorial shells. 
 
 It is the destiny of life, whether animal or vege- 
 table, to be everywhere the food of life. Death is the 
 transmigration, not of being but of the material of 
 being into new forms and modes of existence. This 
 great natural law, which makes animal life in its every 
 shape depend for evolution and maintenance upon life 
 already existing, extends from man downwards to the 
 lowest grades of the animal creation — strikingly exem- 
 plified in those parasitic creatures now so numerously 
 catalogued as to form a distinct portion of natural 
 science. And a notable, though inexplicable, part of 
 this great scheme of nature is the constant and obvious 
 provision in the animal world for the maintenance of 
 succession even at the expense of individual life. 
 Among the insects it is common to see the individuals 
 propagating life perish as soon as this function is ful- 
 filled.' 
 
 Without stopping to refute Buffon's strange doctrine 
 (supported, indeed, by one recent authority), that the 
 absolute quantity of life has been, and must ever be, 
 the same on the globe, it is well to note here how 
 largely physical conditions, as well as human necessi- 
 ties and intelligence, influence its distribution over the 
 earth. Natural history is profuse in examples to this 
 effect, both in the animal and vegetable world. Even 
 as regards human life we are continually admonished 
 as to those accidents and conditions of existence, 
 
 K 2 
 
132 LIFE ON THE EARTH. 
 
 physical and social, which augment or lessen its 
 amount on any given area of the globe. Take the 
 single case of Ireland. The potato, naturalised as a 
 food of the country, raised its population to the inordi- 
 nate amount of eiglit millions. The potato disease of 
 1845 and the following years (the work of one of the 
 lowest forms of parasitic life) took off nearly a quarter 
 of this number by famine or emigration. In every 
 .crrade below man in the animal kingdom life is simi- 
 larly subjected to the conditions which press upon it 
 from Avithout, either such as are purely physical or 
 the conflicts of different forms of animal life with one 
 another. This is in great measure a new branch of 
 knowledge, and it has already been rendered a prolific 
 one. We see how not only the quantity but also the 
 organisation and habitudes of life depend on local and 
 ever-varying circumstances, and how far man is con- 
 cerned in fixing or changing these. Much, however, 
 yet remains to be done, as well in correcting errors of 
 older date as in determining the laws which pertain to 
 this part of the great problem of life on the earth. 
 
 In close connexion with this subject, and its most 
 important correlation, comes the question regarding 
 the relations of man to the other forms of animal crea- 
 tion peopling the earth. Surrounded on every side by 
 living beings, consuming them, consciously or uncon- 
 sciously, as food, and even inhaling them with every 
 breath, this question must ever be one of deep interest 
 to human thought and well worthy all that can be 
 done towards its solution. 
 
 Bayle says, and justly, ' Les actions des betes sont 
 
LIFE OX THE E.\RTH. 133 
 
 iin ties plus profonds problemes sur quoi iiotre raisoii 
 peut s'exercer.' Taking the simplest view of the rela- 
 tions involved in this problem, we may speak of man 
 as the head of the living creation ; the latest, probably, 
 certainly the loftiest, in that long series of existences 
 which we follow downwards till animal life is lost in 
 the lower organisms of the vegetable world. But this 
 is a feeble outline of all that the question involves. 
 Within the wonderful series just denoted lie whole 
 volumes of facts, inviting or almost compelling research 
 into the connexion of the human being with creatures 
 lower in the scale of life. The careless thinker may 
 let his reason go to rest on this admitted human supre- 
 macy. The philosopher, looking on the dog crouched 
 at his feet, sees in him an animal with organisation 
 variously akin to his own — with intelligence, memory, 
 feelings, and passions of the same kind, however differ- 
 ing in degree and manner of use — ^with appetites and 
 necessities of life similar also, though more in subordi- 
 nation to instinct and hereditary habits of the species. 
 The idle spectator gazes on the anthropoid ape with 
 mere merriment at this mockery of human form and 
 gesture. The man of deeper thought cannot stand in 
 face of these creatures without some feeling of awe in 
 the contemplation of that mysterious scheme of crea- 
 tion which has brought them thus near to himself in 
 the scale of animal beings. 
 
 Pascal says : ' II est dangereux de trop faire voir 
 a I'homme combien il est egal aux betes, sans lui 
 montrer sa grandeur. II est encore dangereux de lui 
 trop faire voir sa grandeur sans sa bassesse.' The cau- 
 
134 LIFE ON THE EARTH. 
 
 tion is chiefly needed for philosophers, since to the 
 general sense of mankind famiharity disguises this 
 great wonder of the world of life. But the science 
 of our day, bringing fresh methods to bear upon it, has 
 boldly encountered the problem — encountered, but not 
 yet solved it, as far as regards that question of intention 
 or design which lies at the bottom of the whole. The 
 wider observation and better classification, and the 
 study of fossil remains, aided by all the resources of 
 comparative anatomy, have wonderfully enlarged this 
 domain of knowledge, but in doing so have given 
 origin, and legitimately, to new hypotheses still under 
 active controversy. I especially allude here to that 
 doctrine of evolution or transmutation of species by 
 which it is sought to reduce to certain natural laws 
 of change, selection, and succession those inter-relations 
 which pervade the animal world from man down to 
 the lowest zoophyte — a doctrine which has received 
 its latest and happiest illustration from the work of 
 Mr. Darwin on the Origin of Species. 
 
 But, apart from this larger hypothesis, other and 
 more absolute results have been derived from the 
 researches of our own day. It is almost needless to 
 mention one of these, coming in refutation of a vulgar 
 notion that the creation of the rest of the animal world 
 is but a corollary to that of man — a ministration, as 
 it were, to his higher being. Every part of natural 
 history, and very especially the history disclosed to 
 us by fossil remains, utterly annuls any such concep- 
 tion. Man is the highest and most wonderful member 
 of the created series. But he is integrally a member 
 
LIFE OX THE EARTH. 135 
 
 of it. And it would not be too much to affirm, were 
 such vague affirmation worth having, that not one- 
 hundredth part of the animal creation, counted by 
 species, has relation, direct or indirect, to his existence 
 on earth. 
 
 Wliile discarding, however, any such assumption of 
 the dependent relation of other animals to man, we must 
 admit that another relation presses more cogently upon 
 us if we adopt the doctrine of progress in the forms of 
 life by gradual evolution instead of by special creation. 
 This doctrine cannot be held, as it is held by many, 
 without including man as a unit in the scale of pro- 
 gression — the highest product of those laws or acci- 
 dents of development by which inferior forms of being 
 are raised to those of higher grade. We cannot stop 
 short at the human threshold, if the argument for 
 transmutation has carried us thus far. But this ques- 
 tion, perfectly justifiable in itself, is one requiring 
 separate discussion, though so closely allied to all 
 other problems of the living world that none can be 
 wholly dissevered from it. 
 
 From the comparative* anatomy and physiology of 
 the present daiy we derive a very exact knowledge of 
 the structural and functional relations of man and 
 other annuals, traced upwards from the dawning of 
 hfe in each. The enquiry rises in interest as we come 
 to the higher orders of mammalia and those quadru- 
 manous animals the proximity of which to man even 
 nomenclature has been led to recognise. It is needless 
 to cite the several resemblances of structure, and of 
 the functions to which they serve, through all the 
 
136 LIFE ON THE EARTH. 
 
 stages of generation and growth, of decay and death. 
 The brain, as the organic minister to the mind, is the 
 part to which we look with deepest curiosity. Though 
 certain structural differences have been indicated, the 
 main and most obvious distinction between the brain 
 of the anthropoid apes and that of man is the difference 
 of size and weight. Without quoting the various facts 
 derived from Wagner and other enquirers, it is enough 
 to knov,r that the cubic capacity of the largest go- 
 rilla skull yet examined is less than half that of the 
 average human cranium. It may be that molecular 
 differences, unseen by us, enter into and modify the 
 cerebral functions. But the fact still remains certain 
 that this condition of quantity in the brain plays a part 
 very essential in the relation of members of the animal 
 world, including man, both individually and distributed 
 into races of men. And the conclusion is more striking 
 as we descend in the scale of being, and find decrement 
 of brain associated throughout with decreasing intelli- 
 gence, and the substitution of those instincts which 
 become in the end the totality of life. 
 
 We can in nowise reason upon this relation of size 
 and weight to the cerebral powers. Here, as in all that 
 concerns the connexion of the brain with the mental 
 functions, we have barely reached the mere rudiments 
 of knowledge. The same may be said of those cere- 
 bral convolutions the presence and complexity of 
 which are so remarkable in man, and which in the 
 higher quadrumana differ less from the human type 
 than they do from that of the lemurs, the lowest of 
 this order. This part of structure we can in nowise 
 
LIFE ON THE EARTH. 137 
 
 interpret, either in its presence, its absence, or the 
 variations incident to it. 
 
 But the structural relations of the higher mam- 
 malia to man are a preface only to the deeper question 
 regarding the functions severally attached to them. 
 Structural hkeness of organ implies likeness or identity 
 of function. Does resemblance of brain, in its various 
 degrees, warrant fully this interpretation ? or is there 
 some specialty here which forbids or limits the appli- 
 cation of the rule ? I confess I know of none. In 
 whatever way tlie scale of animal life be arranged, 
 there is a certain proportion found to exist between the 
 cerebral development of the species and the presence 
 of those faculties to which the brain ministers in man. 
 This fact must be taken generally, as we are unable 
 to gauge with exactness in other animals qualities 
 and functions which are not easily described or 
 measured even in ourselves. But in such general sense, 
 and restricting the enquiry to the higher animals, we 
 come upon a multitude of recognised facts, which, 
 though escaping serious thought from their familiarity, 
 are cogent and of deep import in the conclusions to 
 which they lead us. 
 
 Even without serious thought, however, common 
 language has fully recognised these facts as they every 
 day come before us. We speak habitually of the 
 varying intelligence of different animals, individuals as 
 well as varieties and species. We speak of their charac- 
 ters and tempers as different, denoting thereby propen- 
 sities, passions, and affections the same in kind which 
 belong to the moral nature of man. I have already 
 
138 LIFE ON THE EARTH. 
 
 alluded to the dog, as the instance most familiar to us — 
 the animal ' ad hominum commoditates generatus,' to 
 take tlie closing words of Cicero's eulogium. Eut 
 seeking more general illustration from among the 
 higher animals, domesticated or wild, the following 
 may be taken as a summary of the comparison with 
 man. 
 
 Of their reasoning faculty in this relation no happier 
 definition can be given than that of Cuvier : ' Leur in- 
 telligence execute des operations du me me genre.' Mil- 
 ton says, in more guarded phrase, ' They reason not 
 contemptibly.' The kind of reason, however narrow 
 in its scope and combinations, is virtually the same. 
 The mute syllogism of the monkey, or dog, or elephant 
 is perfect as far as it goes, and might be translated into 
 speech or writing. It is less easy to apply the term 
 reflection to their intelligence, yet I think it cannot 
 rightly be excluded. Locke denies to them the power 
 of forming, ' abstract or general ideas ; ' but these terms 
 themselves have long been the subject of controversy, 
 and are not easily admitted into proof. That they 
 possess and largely employ the memory of objects and 
 events is indisputable ; but we have not the same proof 
 as to that higher faculty of recollection — the i^vrnx-q 
 crvvderiKTi — to which the mind of man owes so much of 
 its power and attainments.^ 
 
 Another question occurs, whether anticipation of 
 the future comes within their scope of thought ? In- 
 
 * Aristotle denies to other animals this faculty of avajxi'tiaiQ. He says, 
 'I'o fittjfiovtvfiv riov aWioi' Z,(>}m> fjtTtxd TroXXa ' rov Si avnnvr)nKeaFai ovHv' 
 
 Cicero speaks of the * mens, ratio et niemoria' of the ant. 
 
LIFE OX THE EARTH. 139 
 
 stincts are doubtless largely prospective, and the more 
 perfectly so the lower we go down in the scale of life. 
 But does any animal intellect, save that of man, possess 
 this power ? An old English writer speaks of ' the 
 boon to brutes that they are nescient of evils to come.' 
 And this may be true ; yet still with admission that 
 they have some faculty of forecasting the future, where 
 not remote as to time, and coming in close relation and 
 sequence to the habitual events of their existence. 
 This forms, in fact, a part of the education of animals — 
 a term we cannot refuse to adopt for those conditions, 
 natural or artificial, through which their several 
 faculties are fully evolved or modified, and in many 
 instances even made to supersede the natural instincts 
 of the species. 
 
 To other faculties, intellectual in kind, it is impos- 
 sible not to annex the sense of humour, so conspicuous 
 in very many animals, though not duly noticed in the 
 inference it affords. The gambols, gestures, and sly 
 artifices of monkeys well depicture what are the sports 
 and tricks of human childhood. The dog, toying with 
 his master or gambolling with other dogs, shows his 
 feehng of fun as plainly as if it were put into words ; 
 and a little reflection will show how much lies beneath 
 this single and simple fact. 
 
 The intellectual faculties, then, are alike in kind, 
 while far inferior in power and capacity to those pos- 
 sessed even by the lower races of mankind. As 
 physiology tells us of stages in the foetal growth of 
 man corresponding with what is the final type of in- 
 ferior forms of life, so does the mind of the untutored 
 
140 LIFE OJS" THE BAETH. 
 
 child aptly represent those degrees of intelligence 
 which are the highest attainment of the creatures near- 
 est to us in the animal world. Some writers, as Lord 
 Herbert of Cherbury, have held that the capacity for 
 conceiving the existence of God forms the chief dis- 
 tinction between the reason of man and that of brutes. 
 But this may rather be taken as one of many analogous 
 cases, expressing the limit imposed on the faculties of 
 the latter. 
 
 As respects the feelings, passions, and propensities 
 of the animals thus near to our confines, we must re- 
 gard them as essentially the same with those which 
 denote the moral nature of man — very different, in- 
 deed, in their objects, and wanting those nicer shades 
 of the human character in its various grades of cultiva- 
 tion, but still to be described only by the same terms 
 and understood in the same sense. Without running into 
 subtle distinctions of name or nature, it is enough to 
 recite generally the common qualities most familiar to 
 observation. Such are, love and hatred, emulation and 
 jealousy, anger and revenge, boldness and fortitude, 
 pride, and perhaps vanity, gratitude, cowardice, and 
 cunning. These qualities are not defined by difference 
 of species only. As in man, they characterise indi- 
 viduals of the same race, and are innate, more or less, 
 in the temperament of each. 
 
 It does not concern us here to trace them down- 
 wards in the scale of animal life till they vanish in the 
 bare instincts of existence. The main point is, that 
 such a scale exists, culminating in man, and in its 
 higher grades approaching to him in the kind, though 
 
LIFE ON THE EARTH. 141 
 
 not in the degree, of these various faculties. It is a 
 marvellous approximation, deal with the matter as we 
 will. And interpreting it, as we must needs do, 
 through the long gradation downwards of inferior 
 forms, living or extinct, we can come to no other con- 
 clusion than that of a great Scheme and Design^ under 
 which animal life is created or evolved progressively 
 with higher powers and endowments. It does not in- 
 validate this conclusion that we are unable to decipher 
 the total series, or to explain the unequal or broken 
 steps of progress. Nor is it touched by the con- 
 troversy now going on between the doctrine of special 
 successive creations and that of evolution in time from 
 one or more primordial forms. If the former be true, 
 the design of the Creator is expressed in the successive 
 appearance on the earth, at intervals of unknown 
 length, of creatures rising in the organisation of those 
 parts which minister to intelligence — if the latter, the 
 same designing Power must have given to certain 
 primordial forms capacities and laws of transmutation 
 and development, enabling them to multiply into end- 
 less varieties, and through some of these changes to at- 
 tain to forms and faculties approximate to those of man. 
 Eeason or theorise as we will on this matter, we can- 
 not but end with the belief that there is a preconceived 
 plan, however hidden from our comprehension, in all 
 that concerns the being and conditions of animal life, 
 and nothing fortuitous in the position of man, at the 
 summit of the scale so designed. 
 
 But recognising this conclusion, how entire is the 
 blank beyond ! What conjecture can we form as to 
 
142 LIFE OX THE EARTH. 
 
 the purpose of this great plan, of which man comes in 
 as the highest exponent and present terminal of the 
 series ? How explain that long array of beings, mul- 
 titudinous in number and forms, now buried in the 
 rocks of the globe, and indicating innumerable ages of 
 life anterior to man ? Any notion of tentative work in 
 creation is excluded by the character and complexity 
 of the series, and not less by the conceptions which 
 alone we can form of the Creator. That Power which 
 could confer the higher faculties of existence, either by 
 special acts or general laws of progress, must have 
 been capable of creating the higher without the inter- 
 vention of the lower grades of life. But, however we 
 may shape the argument, the fact on which it rests is 
 that of a scale of created beings, irregular, indeed, in 
 parts, yet showing relation and continuity throughout, 
 and therefore what we must regard as unity in the 
 original design. 
 
 While making full confession of ignorance as to the 
 purpose of this vast world of life around us, it must be 
 repeated and ever kept in mind that man is an integral 
 part of the scheme. His endowments, even as attested 
 by those wonderful instances which form the pride of 
 human history, are still relative in kind and degree. 
 And if we descend in the human scale itself — detach- 
 ing from the great mass of mankind the names ren- 
 dered immortal by virtue, genius, learning, or art — Ave 
 bring the connexion yet closer to those forms of animal 
 life which, though below man, may well startle him 
 by their proximity. No one can have travelled much, 
 as I myself have done, or lived observantly among 
 
LIFE ON THE EARTH. 143 
 
 inferior races and classes of mankind, without becom- 
 ing conscious of this. Poetry has told us, and truly, 
 that gems of genius and greatness often lie hidden in 
 silent obscurity. But we are forced to admit, looking 
 broadly at the characters impressed by descent upon 
 races and communities of men, that the capacity for 
 achieving greatness is lessened — the faculties them- 
 selves, intellectual and moral, degraded — by adverse 
 conditions of existence, physical or social. The sad- 
 ness of this reflection is abated by the justifiable belief 
 that under different conditions, and aided by hereditary 
 transmission, these faculties may be extended and 
 exalted far beyond the limits marked by our present 
 experience. On the latter point I have commented in 
 another of these papers. A century more will give 
 those then living sufficient evidence on a subject of 
 deep interest to the future history of mankind. 
 
 One question there is respecting our relation to 
 other animals which has a specialty of its own. How 
 much of the superiority of man depends on the won- 
 derful faculty of speech, on which he so supremely 
 transcends every other part of the living creation ? I 
 say transcends^ because speech simply understood is 
 but the communication of thought, will, or emotion by 
 intelligible sounds ; and, so defined, it is certain that 
 very many animals, even far down in the scale, are 
 gifted with this power, exclusively of those other senses 
 or instincts which serve to the necessities or pleasures 
 of their social life. If the dog could speak with his 
 tongue, as he does with his tail, how much of keen 
 intelligence and warm affection would he express ! 
 
144 LIFE ON THE EARTH. 
 
 But as regards human speech, ' the joint energy of our 
 best and noblest faculties,' we cannot confine it within 
 any such naked definition. This capacity in man, due 
 in part to the peculiar anatomy of the vocal organs, but 
 more, we may affirm, to cerebral organisation, assumes 
 in its cultivation and results a far more exalted aspect. 
 Without entering on the wide question, now actively 
 discussed, as to the origin, structure, diffusion, and 
 divergence of languages, it is enough to say that the 
 faculty of speech, nurtured and perfected in its various 
 forms, and robing itself in those written characters 
 which spread a silent but living speech over the globe, 
 has done more than any other endowment in giving to 
 man his peculiar position in the animal world. Sup- 
 pose for a moment the annihilation of language, spoken 
 and wTitten, and in place of it an intercourse by ges- 
 ture or brute sounds, ' vox et pr^eterea nihil,' and think 
 how vast the void that would ensue, how great the 
 degradation of man's nobility and supremacy ! Those 
 higher powers and workings of genius which have pro- 
 cured for some men the veneration of all ages, w^ould 
 have been dormant and fruitless, had this wonderful 
 mechanism of language not come in aid. Take the 
 very highest of these human achievements, and see 
 how much depends on prior knowledge, gathered fi'om 
 the labours of generations gone by ; which labours 
 would have been lost but for this manner of transmis- 
 sion from age to age. Knowledge is correlative in 
 every sense of the word. Insulate the human mind, 
 and its supremacy is impaired or lost. We have evi- 
 dence of this in those nomadic and other races where 
 
LIFE 0^ THE EARTH. . 145 
 
 language has never got beyond a low grade, and is 
 represented by written characters as rude as the life 
 they depicture. Such men still keep superiority to 
 the animals around them ; but it is a feeble dominion, 
 and maintained by means which much resemble the 
 acts or instincts of brutes themselves. The interval is 
 lessened which separates them from the living world 
 below. ^ 
 
 Here, ho\vever, we must notice another specialty 
 of structure, whether original or derived, which has 
 largely aided in giving his superiority to man. This is 
 the human hand — a member of the body well meriting 
 the valuable volume which has been written upon it. 
 As a subject for speculative thought it may be less im- 
 pressive than the one just discussed. But pursued into 
 details, it is pregnant with instruction as to those 
 methods through which man obtained his earliest 
 powers over matter, not solely in the common arts of 
 hfe, but even in those sciences which have raised him 
 so high in the scale of being. 
 
 To sum up the results of all reasoning on the sub- 
 ject, they amount but to this, that there is a designed 
 plan in the totality of life on the globe, as it has been, 
 and as it now is — that man enters as an integral part 
 into this plan — and that progress towards higher grades 
 
 * There is a striking expression of William Humboldt on the humjtn 
 faculty of speech : * Der Mensch ist nur Mensch durch Sprache. Um aber 
 die Sprache zu erfinden miisste er schon Mensch seyn.' And elsewhere 
 he describes man as * ein singendes Geschopf, aber den Gedanken mit den 
 Tonen verbindend.' 
 
 The speculation regarding mutism as a step of transition between the 
 brute sounds of the anthropoid animals and the language of man is a 
 notion held only to fill up a gap in a theory. 
 
 L 
 
146 LIFE ON THE EARTH. 
 
 of existence is one part of the great scheme we thus 
 contemplate in outhne. Our real knowledge does not 
 go beyond ; nor can we reach, even by the hardiest 
 human conjecture, to that Supreme Purpose, past, pre- 
 sent, and prospective, which lies at the bottom of the 
 whole, and to which man is submitted in common with 
 all other forms, from the highest to the lowest, of 
 animal life. 
 
147 
 
 ANIMAL INSTINCTS. 
 
 [Written in 1869.J 
 
 This is one of those subjects of enquiry in which, 
 though furnished with facts and instances innumerable, 
 we yet fail to reach that ultimate truth which it is the 
 object of all pliilosophy to attain. !N'o effort of reason 
 or speculation has yet reached the core of the question. 
 
 In a chapter on ' Instincts and Habits,' in my 
 volume of ' Mental Physiology,' I have sought to define 
 the actual state of our knowledge on the subject ; and 
 the relation of this great problem of animal life to 
 others blended with it — inextricably blended, we may 
 say, since no artifice of definition can dissever that 
 continuity which pervades all forms and functions of 
 the animal world, from the highest to the lowest. When 
 we say that nothing is done in nature per saltum, we 
 are denoting a general fact, if not law, which Leibnitz 
 was one of the first to recognise and apply in philo- 
 sophy, and which every later advancement in science 
 has tended to illustrate and confirm— none more so 
 than the subject before us. 
 
 The following paper will be supplemental in some 
 sort to the chapter above-mentioned. The facts must 
 mainly be the same ; but I shall seek to give them 
 more exphcit direction to those conclusions, posi- 
 
 l2 
 
148 ANIMAL INSTINCTS. 
 
 tive or negative, which admit of being reached, A 
 larger design would needfully embrace vegetable in- 
 stincts also, from their close connexion and continuity 
 with those of animal life, but to these I can only here 
 cursorily refer. 
 
 The question what we are to describe as instincts 
 first presses upon us — one not easy to answer. We 
 can define them under their more special forms, as dis- 
 tinct from reason, and often even in direct conflict with 
 it. Such definitions are familiar ; based on endless in- 
 stances and satisfying the mind by their seeming com- 
 pleteness. Yet if we approach the phenomena more 
 closely, we find a border-land where reason and instinct 
 are strangely and inextricably blended — each invading 
 the domain of the other, and reciprocally producing 
 changes which variously affect the functions of both. 
 Acts, primarily of reason and voHtion, pass by constant 
 repetition into habits having the compulsory force of 
 instincts, and often even transmissible to offspring ; 
 while instincts submitted to the pressure of unwonted 
 conditions often assume ne\v faculties and modes of 
 action, which if we shrink from calHng them acts of 
 reason can only be interpreted as newly- developed 
 forms of instinct. 
 
 It is on this border-land, however, if anywhere, 
 that we may hope to obtain some enlargement and 
 better definition of our knowledge. Little or nothing 
 is gained by multiplying examples of individual in- 
 stincts, strange and curious though they be, and worthy 
 of a better classification than any yet adopted. Those 
 of the bee, the ant, the spider, the carrier-pigeon, tlie 
 
ANIMAL INSTINCTS. 149 
 
 salmon, the beaver, the tailor and weaver birds, and 
 endless others, might be cited ; but the instances most 
 familiar to us represent in effect the marvel of the 
 whole, and put the common question of origin into its 
 most cogent shape. The old instance of the beehive, 
 quoted from one age to another, tells all that is most 
 ^vonderful in these instinctive mechanisms of life, in- 
 variable through all known time, and fulfilling the 
 most complex functions of physical and social existence 
 with a precision which no reason or volition of these 
 creatures could efiect. ' Quel abime aux yeux du 
 Sage qu'une ruche d'abeilles,' says Eeaumur, and says 
 truly. What is, and whence comes, this marvellous 
 power ? What are the forces w^hich put into action and 
 direct the admirable mechanisms, so various for different 
 animals, yet so invariable for each — so closely allied 
 in many ways to the material works of man, yet mani- 
 festly connected with other active influences, to which 
 our knowledge of matter gives no interpretation ? The 
 vigour of Newton's intellect, directed to this problem, 
 found no other solution than that the Creator of Life is 
 Himself the moving power in the innumerable forms of 
 instinct which pervade the animal world. Such con- 
 clusion does but plunge the problem into deeper ob- 
 scurity. It is in effect one shape of pantheism— the 
 barrier at which so many efforts to reach what is un- 
 reachable come to a sudden end. 
 
 But though failing to reach the ultimate truth in 
 this matter, there are several subordinate problems 
 lying in the way, and affording the nearest approach to 
 it. These problems, too, are of deep interest in them- 
 
150 ANIMAL INSTINCTS. 
 
 selves, and in their connexion with the whole physiology 
 of animal life. That which first offers itself is the 
 relation of physical structure to the existence and 
 variations of instincts — a question closely pressed upon 
 us by recent doctrines and researches. Are the organic 
 forms or material apparatus to which particular in- 
 stincts are attached brought into this connexion by 
 special acts of creation? Or do changes gradually 
 going on, from whatever cause, in the forms and organs 
 of animals produce corresponding developments of the 
 instincts appropriate to each ? This question, which is 
 at once seen as deeply concerned with that of the Origin 
 of Species, goes straight to the point, and admits of no 
 evasion. Those who hold the doctrine of transmuta- 
 tion of species, and their derivation in the totality from 
 some few primitive forms, must needs acquiesce in the 
 latter view ; one sanctioned doubtless by the many cases 
 where change in external conditions creates new habits 
 of life, which by repetition and propagation take the 
 character of hereditary instincts, and modify to a certain 
 extent the bodily organisation. But the admission here 
 is a limited one only. The doctrine in question — dis- 
 puted, indeed, but powerfully advocated — involves 
 really the dependence of instinctive action upon organs 
 isation, under the direct relation of cause and effect. 
 In assuming the evolution of new organic forms fronj 
 material causes acting on prior organisms, themselves 
 similarly developed from antecedent structures, instincts 
 come in only as sequent on such changes — an ac- 
 quired and not an original possession. 
 
 It will be seen, then, how much of the point of the 
 
ANIMAL INSTINCTS. 151 
 
 problem lies within this single question. If it can be 
 shown that some instincts are of such kind that no 
 material organisation alone is capable of producing 
 them — and others such that none but a special and 
 designed organisation could evolve the particular in- 
 stinct — ^we quit in these cases the domain of acces- 
 sible science, and can appeal only to that higher 
 Creative Power which is in itself the great mystery of 
 the universe. 
 
 And such examples numerously occur, seeming to 
 compel this appeal. We cannot, with all the aids 
 derived from comparative anatomy, the microscope, 
 and other resources of modern science, make any 
 actual or conceivable organisation the exponents of 
 those social instincts of animal life which serve not 
 solely to individual existence but to the necessities or 
 well-being of a community — which are in numerous 
 cases prospective in their action — are strictly here- 
 ditary — commence, untaught, with life itself, and ter- 
 minate only with death. How, for instance, can 
 aught we see of the bodily structure of the hive-bee 
 explain that marvellous fabric of the honeycomb to 
 which even mathematicians pay their homage of ad- 
 miration, or the social economy of the hive ? What is 
 there in the organisation of the white ants to account 
 for the strange and complex yet well-ordered economy 
 of these insect communities ? Where do we find the 
 organs giving to the salmon, to the migratory birds, to 
 the carrier-pigeon their peculiar instincts as to seasons 
 and localities? What is there in the beaver urging 
 this animal to employ his constructive art, though 
 
152 ANIMAL INSTINCTS. 
 
 rendered useless by captivity ? From what structure 
 can come that prevision of the future impHed in the 
 simple building of a bird's nest? or what subtleties of 
 the external senses can explain those selective instincts 
 as to food common to every creature of the animal 
 world ? 
 
 Instances of this kind might be endlessly multi- 
 plied, as significant as curious. They go far to sanc- 
 tion that phrase of Cuvier's where he describes the 
 instinct of animals as ' un reve qui les poursuit 
 toujours.' But if so, what puts into motion these 
 wonderful dreams of instinctive life? Anatomy, even 
 the most searching, gives no answer to this question, 
 and all reasoning and speculation are equally mute. 
 It is that ultimate mystery to which allusion has 
 already been made. 
 
 While thus separating the great mass of instincts 
 from anything we can see or conceive of mere struc- 
 ture, it is needful to recognise the many instances 
 where the domestication of animals, or other less ob- 
 vious, external causes, have altered both the bodily 
 conformation and habits of the species, impressing the 
 character of instincts, in fixity and force, on the habits 
 so transmitted from one generation to another. Such 
 changes belong chiefly, if not exclusively, to what I 
 have termed the border-land^ where intelligence is 
 closely blended with instinct ; and they are most strik- 
 ing where domestication by man has worked upon the 
 highest degree of natural intelhgence. Our social re- 
 lations with the higher apes are happily not such as to 
 furnish much illustration. But the dog, as concerns 
 
ANIMAL INSTINCTS. 153 
 
 this point, is an instantia crucis, expounding better 
 than any other animal that strange blending of reason, 
 habits, instincts, and affections through which he comes 
 into such close alliance with man, and illustrating at 
 the same time the various affinities by which the latter 
 is linked to inferior grades of the animal world. 
 
 This relation of habits and instincts will at once be 
 seen as one of consummate importance to the whole 
 question before us. I have treated of it at some 
 length in the chapter before alluded to, and shall 
 here add only a few remarks in further illustration. 
 Where the origin of instincts is the problem every 
 illustration is of value, and not least those which con- 
 verge from different points upon common truth. 
 
 The definition of habit, as a mere expression of 
 fact, is simple enough, and it may be carried far down 
 into the animal world. But complicated with the 
 functions of the will, as habits are, both in their origin 
 and progress, it becomes far more difficult to describe 
 or decipher them. In truth, this single word of 
 will, so familiar to common speech, has been prolific 
 of doubt and dispute in every part of philosophy. 
 Though the mind of man especially here becomes the 
 subject of illustration, it is not easy for the conscious- 
 ness so to analyse its own workings as to separate the 
 pure act of will from the other complex machinery of 
 our mental nature. I have dwelt elsewhere on the 
 psychological fact, as important practically as in 
 theory, that numerous automatic involuntary acts, 
 mental and corporeal, have their origin in acts pri- 
 marily of the will, becoming assimilated in the end. 
 
154 ANIMAL INSTINCTS. 
 
 in compulsion as well as aspect, to the simpler in- 
 stincts of animal existence. The life of man in its 
 every part is replete with examples of such changes ; 
 but with this general mark appended to them, that 
 they are least frequent and compulsory where the 
 mental energy is the highest. The main fact here is 
 recognised in the iOos and coverts of Aristotle ; in the 
 ' Consuetude, deinde Natura ' of Quintilian, and in a 
 thousand maxims and common -places of our own day. 
 But physiology, as a science, defines the fact far more 
 strictly, connecting it with all the faculties, animal, 
 intellectual, and emotional, and making it the exponent 
 of many strange anomalies of individual life. When 
 we say that ' habit is a second nature,' we pithily ex- 
 press those permanent changes produced by continual 
 repetition even in the most important functions, and 
 which, thus infixed, are often transmitted from one 
 generation to another. No law, however, can yet 
 even approximately be applied to this hereditary 
 transmission. It merges in that deep mystery of gene- 
 ration in which so many of these secrets lie hidden. 
 
 These remarks chiefly concern man, but not ex- 
 clusively so. The kindred thus denoted between in- 
 stincts and compulsory transmissible habits may be 
 seen much lower down in the scale of animal life, 
 manifestly pointing towards that ulterior question, now 
 the subject of such keen controversy, whether all 
 actions that we call instinctive may not be thus en- 
 gendered from simpler conditions of existence, granting 
 unlimited time and physical changes, unknown in 
 quantity and quality, acting from mthout upon animal 
 
ANIMAL INSTINCTS. 155 
 
 life ? This, in fact, is the main question embodied in 
 Mr. Darwin's doctrine of the Origin of Species. A 
 negative answer to it can only be reached through 
 the proof that there are classes of instincts which 
 cannot belong to any visible or conceivable bodily 
 organisation. 
 
 I have already spoken on this point, expressing my 
 belief that there are instincts thus characterised, and 
 not otherwise to be interpreted to our conceptions than 
 as original in the species or genus to which the animal 
 belongs. The lower organisms are those in which the 
 instincts of life are simplest and most absolute. As we 
 rise upwards the more complex structure gives greater 
 liability to disturbance from outward causes, and in 
 the higher animals we find the influence of mtelhgence 
 and feeling and the habits generated thereby. But in 
 all these grades of being phenomena come before us 
 which no organisation, though deciphered by the 
 subtlest anatomy or physiology of the vital functions, 
 can explain. In numerous cases, indeed, specialties of 
 structure are seen, necessary to the special instincts to 
 which they subserve. But this falls far short of proof 
 that structure alone has generated the instinct. The 
 powerful muscles and other structural peculiarities of 
 certain birds and fishes are necessary to their periodical 
 migrations by land and sea. But the act of migration 
 itself is the marvel — determinate as to place, time, and 
 method — guided by no sense or reason we can define 
 or conceive, yet fulfilHng its purposes with a certi- 
 tude no reason could attdin. Numerous animals have 
 special apparatus adapted to objects wholly pivspective, 
 
156 ANIMAL INSTINCTS. 
 
 such as the building of nests or other preparation for 
 futiu-e progeny ; acts often very complex in kind, 
 distinct and uniform for the species, but in nowise 
 explicable as a provision of reason. The sexual in- 
 stincts, and those connected with food — appetencies 
 essential to life on the earth— come under the same 
 head, as acts not due to intelligence nor to any obvious 
 structure. Look, again, to the beehive or the ant-hill, 
 where the instincts regard the individual creature far 
 less than the community — where such communities are 
 made up of members differing in structure and func- 
 tions, yet all inter-related by mutual necessities — and 
 where the instinctive energy is chiefly manifested in 
 making provision for the future. 
 
 These instances, a few out of many, suffice to show 
 that there are classes and kinds of instincts which 
 cannot be interpreted through bodily organisation, 
 either original or induced by the habits and conditions 
 of existence. Much, indeed, may be admitted as to 
 the latter causes, especially where the higher degrees 
 of intelligence become interwoven with the complex 
 fabric of life. But there still remains the profound 
 problem of a power acting in and through this fabric 
 of which neither our senses nor reason can render any 
 account. It is the same mystery as tliat of the genera- 
 tion of life from life ; the same, indeed, in a sense 
 beyond mere analogy, since the insoluble questions are 
 alike in each case, and so clearly blended that they can 
 scarcely even be stated apart. If our knowledge ever 
 advances further into tliese mysteries (including the 
 strictly collateral one of the origin of species), it must 
 
ANIMAL INSTINCTS. 157 
 
 be by pursuing this common path. As far as I can see, 
 there is none other open to us. 
 
 I have spoken of induced habits in man and the 
 higher animals as often acquiring an instinctive cha- 
 racter, and even becoming transmissible to offspring. 
 The instincts of man, as the highest in the scale, form 
 a. very curious but difficult topic — made more difficult 
 by the larger intelligence blended with them, and 
 further perplexed by those innate propensities and 
 idiosyncrasies, intellectual and moral, which give 
 diversity to human character, and often exercise a 
 compulsion upon it which no reason or will can take 
 account of or resist. It is not easy by definition to 
 dissever these propensities from instincts. But while 
 at once the most familiar and the most inexplicable 
 phenomena in the philosophy of mind, they will be 
 seen to belong chiefly to individual life ; and though 
 sometimes transmitted to oflspring, are not, like true 
 instincts, subject to any common or certain law. The 
 animals nearest to man in intelligence have, like him, 
 individual propensities, but these more closely inter- 
 woven with the pecuHar instincts of the spQcies. As 
 we descend in the scale these individualities gradually 
 disappear. The instincts become more definite in kind, 
 identical for each species, and at the lowest point 
 limited seemingly to the simple necessities of existence 
 and reproduction. 
 
 Other causes make it difficult to define the special 
 instincts of man. The voluntary and involuntary func- 
 tions, and those of mind and body respectively, are so 
 variously interblended, that even consciousness fails to 
 
158 ANIMAL INSTINCTS. 
 
 detect the lines of separation. To the more doubtful 
 instances mentioned above we may add the sexual 
 instincts, those which express emotions of mind, as 
 laughter, weeping, sighing," &c., and perhaps also cer- 
 tain infantile acts occurring at tlie very dawn of life. 
 But all these cases are less distinctly marked in their 
 nature and origin ; and looking at the instincts of man 
 and other animals collectively, we reach the general 
 conclusion that reason acting through the will, and 
 instinct guiding and governing the acts of life apart 
 from the will, exist in inverse ratio to each other 
 throughout the scale of the animal creation ; the latter 
 at a certain point encroaching so entirely upon the 
 former that life becomes a mere mechanism, however 
 complex and wonderful the functions performed. 
 
 I say at a certain point ; but who can denote the 
 point at which every trace of intelligence is lost in the 
 blind compulsion of instinct? The little community 
 of sparrows in my London garden puts before me a 
 daily picture of the curious intermingling of the two 
 faculties ; and even in the nests of some birds we find 
 adaptations to altered physical conditions which in man 
 we should deem the result of intelligence. Experi- 
 ments show that even the rigid architecture of the bee- 
 hive and the equally rigid laws which govern this 
 insect community undergo changes, made by the bees 
 themselves, to remedy mischiefs inflicted from without. 
 Unless we can satisfy our reason, or rather shelter our 
 ignorance, by some such phrase as supplementary 
 instincts^ we must needs admit that inteUigence is at 
 work here. Many similar cases occur of contrivances 
 
ANIMAL IJS^STLVCTS. 159 
 
 adapted to meet casual interferences with the instinc- 
 tive life of the species, and they might doubtless be 
 variously multiplied by research in this direction — that 
 is, by direct experiments made to determine how far, 
 and by what methods, instincts interfered with may be 
 supplemented by the resources, call them what you 
 will, of the animal itself. Such experiments would be 
 as curious as instructive. They are the rather to be 
 recommended from the paucity of other means of 
 entering into the depths of the question. The careful 
 observation of the instincts of hybrids, and of the mixed 
 breeds from varieties of the same species, is one of 
 other collateral paths of enquiry, yet only partially 
 pursued, all in the right direction, but all stopping 
 short of those ultimate truths upon which alone a true 
 theory of instincts can rest. 
 
 In the paper before referred to I have spoken in 
 some detail of the nervous system as that part of the 
 animal organisation which, though instrumentally only, 
 ministers most directly, it would seem, to the pheno- 
 mena of instincts. The experiments which show the 
 impairment or abolition of certain instincts by special 
 injuries of the brain or spinal nerves, or even of the 
 antennaj of insects, prove undoubtedly the ministration 
 of these parts to the functions in question. They also 
 render it probable, as do other considerations, that the 
 excitement, direction, and catenation of instinctive acts 
 are fulfilled directly through the nerves ; and very 
 especially through that system of ganglionic nerves, 
 which in its functions, direct or reflex, so largely con- 
 trols every part of organic life. The absence of any 
 
160 ANIMAL INSTINCTS. 
 
 brain in many large classes of animals whose instincts 
 are absolute and complete, makes It indeed necessary 
 that we should look to these ganglia and nervous cen- 
 tres of the trunk as the structures coming into closest 
 connexion with them ; while to maintain this view 
 throughout we must suppose some inscrutable form of 
 nervous matter in the lowest types of life, where the 
 instincts are strongly marked, though no such matter 
 can be detected. 
 
 It will be seen what various unsolved questions 
 beset every part of this great problem. Still the rela- 
 tion just denoted carries us a step forward in the en- 
 quiry, by associating the instincts which bind animal 
 life to the outer world with those pecuhar internal 
 organisms which instinctively serve to the maintenance 
 of life itself. It is one of the great prerogatives of 
 science to advance itself through these secondary rela- 
 tions, even where the ultimate problem lies beyond 
 reach. 
 
 If material organisation tells us so little on which 
 to frame a true theory of instincts, still less can we 
 seek this by an appeal to those powers, or forces^ as 
 they are termed — light, heat, electricity, &c. — ^wliich 
 act on matter universally, and not least under its or- 
 ganic forms. Life, indeed, could not exist, or its func- 
 tions be maintained, apart from these forces, which 
 minister to instincts as to other vital actions. Still it 
 is excitement and ministration only, and no solution of 
 the mystery. Nor do we gain more by bringing the 
 ' vital principle ' to our aid, which here, as elsewhere, 
 is a barren phrase, veiling our real ignorance. 
 
 A special work on instincts, based on larger com- 
 
ANIMAL INSTINCTS. 161 
 
 parative observation and on experiment, is still want- 
 ing to us. More hands than one might be required, 
 but it is a work which would well repay in probable 
 results any amount of labour bestowed upon it ; having 
 pecuhar interest, moreover, in its connexion with the 
 question of the origin of species, to which I have 
 already alluded. The main problem to be solved is 
 the relation, as to priority or causality, between the 
 organisation and the instincts of species. To this must 
 be added subordinately all that concerns the hereditary 
 nature of instincts — their relation to habits and casual 
 conditions of hfe, including here the divergence of spe- 
 cies into races, and the influence upon them of reason 
 and the will. The doctrine of transmutation or evolu- 
 tion, refusing to admit the special creation of new 
 forms of animal life, can only explain the diversity of 
 instincts by supposing changes of organism, needfully 
 involving changes of the instinctive functions ; and this 
 not only where reason and instincts work together, but 
 also in those cases, far more numerous, where the 
 latter, wholly detached from intelhgence, are altogether 
 compulsory in their nature. I have already given the 
 reasons which seem to me to make it certain that in- 
 stincts cannot belong to structure only. In a matter 
 thus obscure, where an unknown power comes into the 
 question, it is something to obtain even such negative 
 conclusion. If we. ever reach one more positive, it 
 will probably be on that border-land already denoted, 
 where mental and material functions, intelligence and 
 instincts, are found together either in co-operation or 
 conflict. 
 
 M 
 
162 
 
 EVIL IN THE WORLD. 
 
 All theories, ancient and modern, which seek to ex- 
 plain the existence of evil in the world are based 
 mainly on one or other of the following, assumptions : 
 1st. The existence and counteraction to good of a per- 
 sonal evil spirit. 2nd. The repugnancy of matter as 
 the material of creation, or other limitation to the Crea- 
 tive Power. 3rd. The permission or ordination of evil, 
 under general laws, or for purposes designed by the 
 Creator. 
 
 And first, as to the doctrine of a personality of evil. 
 Strange it is that while Christian theologians have at 
 all times been so sedulous to shape their tenets into 
 creeds and formularies, they should have neglected to 
 give clear utterance on a point of such deep interest to 
 the whole history and moral condition of man. A 
 phraseology of belief is maintained without any open 
 expression of it. Satan, the Devil, the Evil One, the 
 Evil Spirit, are some of our now famihar terms, thus 
 translated from the language of Scripture. Why are 
 they not distinctly interpreted to us, either as meta- 
 phorical phrases or as really affirming an individual 
 personal existence ? One or other determination must 
 be true, but which ? The distinction here is far more 
 important than three-fourths of the doctrinal questions 
 
EVIL IX THE WORLD. 163 
 
 wliich distract tke Christian world and divide Christian 
 Churches. Why should a matter thus momentous be 
 put before us as it comes through the misty medium of 
 Manicha3an or other Oriental philosophy ? 
 
 Are there really Scriptural texts so wholly free 
 from allegory or metaphor as to compel belief in a 
 Being the personal author of evil ? If there are, then 
 should the whole of our theology be remodelled, for 
 our conceptions of God and of his relations to man 
 are wholly altered by such belief. If there are not, 
 then ought theology boldly to declare the negative. 
 Nothing can be more destructive of intelligent faith than 
 those vague terms and traditions, which obscure the 
 truth, but which we fear either to define or discard. 
 
 Probably very few intelligent persons do really 
 believe in a personal Satan, having power or even per- 
 mission to contravene what was designed for good in 
 the world. I have often put the question to men of 
 deep religious thought, and have found either that it 
 had never definitely occurred to them, or been per- 
 plexed to their minds by the phraseology of pulpits as 
 well as of common speech. It has been said, and 
 truly, that in England the great poem of Milton has 
 done much towards giving personality and its attributes 
 to Satan. I have known myself some curious instances 
 of this unconscious derivation of opinion. 
 
 I have looked with some attention to the use of the 
 word ^aravas as it occurs in the New Testament, taking 
 Griesbach's text. It must be allowed that many of 
 these passages (some thirty-two in number) will bear, 
 others even seem to press for, a personal interpretation. 
 
 M 2 
 
164 EVIL IN THE WORLD. 
 
 But tliere are many others in which the word is clearly 
 used metaphorically ; and these, in my mind, fiu-nish 
 an index to the former, and a strong argument against 
 such mode of interpretation. Would the word ever 
 be used to express merely evil thought, temptation, or 
 sin, if in other places it affirmed a personal being, the 
 spirit and author of evil in the world? I think it 
 nearly impossible that this should happen. The meta- 
 phor embodies itself in personality. The personality, 
 if existing, would exclude the metaphor. 
 
 I refer below to a passage in St. Luke's Gospel 
 which seems to me conclusive as to the point in ques- 
 tion ; and to other passages showing how doubtfully 
 the belief in an evil spirit is justified by Scriptural au- 
 thority.^ Yet I have more than once heard the perso- 
 nality of the Devil preached exphcitly as a doctrine of 
 
 * See Luke xiii. 11, where a woman is described as irvevfia txovffa 
 atrOeveiai: for eigliteen years ; and verse 16, where it is said of the same 
 
 woman ravTtjv ^i t^T](Tsv 6 Haravac deKa Kai oktlj trt], 
 
 I find Dr. Howsou, in his Hulsean Lectures (1861), quoting the men- 
 tion of Satan by St. Paul in Acts xxvi. 18 as a proof of his existence and 
 power. The inference I draw from this passage is just the reverse. The 
 A«a/3oXoe of John viii. 44 conveys more of personality, yet taking the whole 
 phrase of the context, it may be simply metaphorical for evil. Ought 
 our translation to render cia^oXog and ^aifidvior, coming near together, 
 under the same word of Devil ? There is evidently a different meaning 
 in the original, whatever it may be. The passage in Matthew xii. 24 
 et seq. strikingly illustrates the difficulty of interpreting these several 
 terms, to which that of Beelzebub is here added. The 7) (inaiXBia of 
 Satan, another phrase in this remarkable passage, can fairly be construed 
 only in an allegorical sense, which sense it reflects upon the context. 
 
 The singular contradiction between 2 Samuel xxiv., and 1 Chro- 
 nicles xxi., can only be explained (and this imperfectly) by supposing 
 what is translated Satan to be a personification of evil thought or action. 
 The passage in Job of colloquy between God and Satan is still more 
 manifestly allegorical. The word rendered Satan, as far as I know, 
 occurs nowhere else in the Old Testament. 
 
EYIL IN THE WORLD. 165 
 
 religion ; listening to which I have felt that the preacher 
 was unconsciously annulling the unity and supremacy 
 of God, and making the government of the world an 
 act of partition and struggle. If it be said that the 
 Devil is permitted for a time only, this is but saying 
 that God permits evil for a time, and evil effected by 
 other spiritual agency than his own. However difficult 
 the subject be under any aspect, all wholesome belief 
 is lost amid doctrines which thus, upon a few ambiguous 
 texts, deface and degrade the attributes of God. I do 
 not think it needful to speak in detail of those various 
 modes of Oriental belief which distinctly recognise a 
 good and evil spirit in the world — a duaUty, in fact, of 
 Divine Being and Power. Such belief is the first grade 
 of polytheism, and belongs to the earliest conceptions 
 of man thus directed. 
 
 2ndly. The Eepugnance of Matter^ or other Limi- 
 tation of the Creative Power, A familiar doctrine of 
 ancient philosophy, attributing to matter a certain 
 quality of passive resistance — malignity^ it has been 
 sometimes termed — something that checks or contra- 
 venes the Creative Will. Quotations, Greek and Latin, 
 might be largely multiphed on this topic, and as co- 
 piously drawn from the Gnostic writers of the early 
 centuries. The questions they embrace cannot be 
 better stated than in a single passage of Seneca : — 
 
 ' Quantum Deus possit? Materiem ipse sibi format, 
 an dat^ utatur ? Utrum idea materiae prius superve- 
 niat, an materia idese ? Deus quicquid vult efficiat. an 
 in multis rebus ilium tractanda destituant, et a magno 
 Artifice prave formantiir multa, non quia cessat ars, 
 
166 EVIL IN THE WORLD. 
 
 sed quia id in quo exerceatur suepe inobsequens arti 
 est?' 
 
 This passage, in touching upon the origin of matter 
 itself, brings into view the most profound question in 
 all philosophy — the relation of the Creator to the ma- 
 terial of creation. The problem is as insoluble now as 
 ia the days of Seneca, and so must remain to every 
 future age. Where neither matter nor spirit admit of 
 other conception or definition than through the phe- 
 nomena they bring before us, all hypotheses as to their 
 primary relation are idle and fruitless. The word a/ox^? 
 used in the same sense as the Beginning of Genesis, 
 denotes what will ever be a hidden mystery to man. 
 
 But that the defect or oppugnancy of matter is 
 the cause of evil in the world, w^e may deny on this 
 plain consideration, that what seems defect or special 
 evil in certain parts of creation does not occur equally, 
 or at all, in other parts, though the material worked 
 upon, and the power working, are the same throughout. 
 This argument applies not solely to the physical but 
 even more to the mental and moral conditions of 
 humanity. To every evil and imperfection there is 
 some comparative good or perfection standing in con- 
 trast. The creative power put forth and seen in these 
 higher and happier manifestations cannot be judged as 
 one hmited or controlled by some inevitable necessity 
 in those other cases where our shallow reason discerns 
 only evil or defect. 
 
 This hypothesis, as regards matter, belongs chiefly, 
 however, to the ancient philosophy, and I dwell upon it 
 only because I have had occasion two or three times to 
 
EVJL IN THE WORLD. 107 
 
 argue against any such limitation of the Divine Power 
 — on one of these occasions with the most profound 
 thinker and acute reasoner I have ever known. 
 
 3rdly. The Permission or Ordination of Evil in 
 the World. Ahnost equivalent terms where omnipo- 
 tence of the Creator is assumed. The problem of evil 
 under this relation has been the theme of endless dis- 
 cussion among laymen as w^ell as theologians, but dis- 
 cussion falling far short of any satisfactory conclusion. 
 Every reasoning man has had this great question before 
 his thought, and been forced to recoil from it, or rest 
 on the faith that what cannot be understood here may 
 be made clear to us hereafter. 
 
 Putting aside that theological form of the question 
 represented by the doctrine of original sin (a doctrine 
 which creates many more difficulties than it resolves), 
 natural reason has been variously appealed to for an 
 answer. In this answer moral and physical evil are 
 both concerned, and in closer relation to each other 
 than might at first appear. It would not be easy to re- 
 capitulate all that has been argued and written on this 
 subject. It has been urged that without sufiering there 
 cannot be trial of fortitude and patience — that with- 
 out temptation to evil there can be no virtue— that the 
 scheme of life embraces death, and thereby the painful 
 changes which often precede it — that much of this suf- 
 fering is due to our own errors or excesses — that the 
 world is governed by general laws, and that man, like 
 other animals, is subject to these laws, and to the phy- 
 sical elements around him, throughout his existence. 
 Arguments of this kind, if they partially content the 
 
168 EVIL IN THE WORLD. 
 
 reason, are felt still to leave an unsolved mystery be- 
 hind. The phrase of Paley (due, however, to Balguy 
 before him), that ' evil, as far as we can see, is never 
 the subject of contrivance,' is perhaps the happiest that 
 has been brought into the question, pointing as it does 
 to the last of these methods of solution, viz., that go-" 
 vernance of the world by general laws, which is every- 
 where so strongly denoted to our reason as part of the 
 design of the Almighty. 
 
 To sum up all I have ever ventured myself to con- 
 clude on this dark question. I cannot give belief to a 
 Satan, a personal spirit of evil, infringing on the unity, 
 if not also on the power and supremacy of God. Seeing 
 what I do of this Divine Power, not solely on the earth, 
 but in the universe around, I cannot suppose it to be 
 controlled by the properties of matter or other unde- 
 fined physical obstacles. For what remains I can 
 come to no other conclusion than the need of great 
 humility, and the confession that no thought or wisdom 
 of ours can rightly comprehend that design of the crea- 
 tion, into which man and the mixed good and evil of 
 human hfe enter fractionally only, as parts probably of 
 some higher scheme. I have felt an entire submission 
 to this ignorance the best relief to those perplexities of 
 thought which the aspects of human existence press 
 upon everyone who thinks at all. 
 
169 
 
 PERFECTIBILITY OF MAN. 
 
 Among the many questions as to the origin and des- 
 tinies of man upon the earth none is of deeper 
 import than this : what, if any, higher elevation may 
 be attained by our species in its totahty from causes, 
 physical or moral, operating through time, with or 
 without design, on the communities and races of man- 
 kind ? The problem is a difficult one in its simplest 
 shape. It is made more so by the ambiguities of lan- 
 guage, as well as by imperfect knowledge of the actual 
 characters and conditions of mankind at large over the 
 globe. Within the walls of a well-endowed college, or 
 amidst the luxurious refinements of a modern capital, 
 the argument will be handled in a very different way 
 from that suggested by a familiarity with savage or 
 nomadic life — with the vast half-civilised races peopling, 
 under one name or other, the whole of Asia — or even 
 with the mass of those who tenant our great cities, or 
 toil with their hands in our fields, factories, and mines. 
 All these and other forms and attributes of humanity 
 enter into the question. The very term Civilisation is 
 of vague import, and difficult to apply either chrono- 
 logically or geographically. What we call such has 
 no permanence in place or time, but has burst forth 
 at different periods in certain countries and communi- 
 
170- PERFECTIBILITY OF MAN. 
 
 ties, reached a certain maturity, and then been arrested 
 or quenched. Such at least has been the history of the 
 rise and fell of many of those ancient empires and cities 
 which have left deepest impress upon posterity. The 
 term, moreover, is used for what differs in kind as well 
 as in degree. It is one of those conventional phrases 
 which, while serving in some sort to embody the loose 
 and floating elements of human thought, do yet often 
 tend to obscure them. 
 
 To meet the question proposed in the title above it 
 is needful to recur to the past history of man for inter- 
 pretation of the probable future. Though I can give 
 but a faint outline to a subject fitted for volumes, sojne 
 part of this interpretation must be sought for even in 
 the origin of our species, and its relation to the other 
 forms of life on the earth. The question, for instance, 
 first arises, are we to regard the different races of 
 mankind as all primitively derived from a single stock ? 
 or are certain diversities of race such that we must 
 look to a plural origin, to different primitive stems, in 
 explanation of them ? Much may be said, and much 
 has been said, on both sides. I incline myself to tlie 
 belief of unity of origin, and have in one of my essays 
 urged the main arguments for this view, such as the 
 fertile interbreeding of all races, the continuous grada- 
 tions by which those farthest separate in aspect are 
 hnked together in all the physical and moral qualities 
 of humanity, and those relations of language which, 
 though obscure in part, have led some of our most 
 eminent philologists to conclude that there is nothing 
 in the elements or diverse forms of speech incompatible 
 
PERFECTIBILITY OF MAN. 171 
 
 with the supposition of one common source on the 
 globe. 
 
 Another enquiry under earnest discussion at the 
 present time is yet more closely linked with the sub- 
 ject before us. This is, the question as to the origin of 
 species in the animal world — whether they are severally 
 acts of special creation, or derived by successive grada- 
 tions of evolution or transmutation from one or more 
 primordial forms of life ? Under the latter view man 
 cannot easily be excluded from the series so established ; 
 and accordingly several naturalists, English and Conti- 
 nental, have submitted to and vindicated this conclusion. 
 Without absolutely accrediting the opinion, I must not 
 deny that it suggests some speculations of interest as 
 to the future perfectibility of man. If the higher qua- 
 drumana (for the argument starts from these) be 
 capable, under any conditions, casual or designed, of 
 attaining to the human attributes, why may not man 
 — a member of the series, though supreme in the 
 scale — be considered capable of developing, in pro- 
 gress of time, more exalted forms of those faculties 
 which are now distinctive of his place in the world? 
 On the other side, again, comes the question, if man 
 be the latest in a long succession of special acts of 
 creation, why may not other beings with still higher 
 attributes be hereafter brought into existence in a 
 similar way ? 
 
 It would be fruitless to bring questions of this 
 obscure nature into the argument before us. The 
 former opinion has doubtless attracted most attention, 
 in its connexion with the origin and development of 
 
172 PERFECTIBILITY OP MAN. 
 
 animal species and varieties, and with that recognised 
 law of progress by which specialties of organisation 
 are evolved, or differentiated, to use a modern term, 
 from more general forms. The latter hypothesis, ad- 
 mitting neither of proof nor disproof, can only be met 
 by presumptions founded on the seeming stability of 
 the actual conditions of the earth (a supposition upon 
 which both astronomy and geology throw some doubt), 
 and on the great elevation of man above other animals 
 in his mental nature, j ustifying the belief that in him 
 the final design of the Creator, as regards the earth, 
 has been fulfilled.^ Putting aside, however, these 
 vague speculations, we recur to our main question, can 
 the human race, as now constituted, and by its own 
 intrinsic capacities for change and progress, raise itself 
 to a higher level of intellectual and moral power than 
 that now existing ? 
 
 In seeking to answer this question we must once 
 again refer to the inferior forms of life around us. The 
 natural history of man cannot in truth be separated 
 from theirs. One obvious fact here, and very im- 
 portant to the argument, is the great and often lasting 
 change produced in many of them by domestication 
 and human instruction. Such changes, indeed, made 
 more for man's sake than the animals', may be only 
 partial and doubtful improvement upon the wild races. 
 Even in the case of dogs — an instance always foremost 
 in illustration — the canine republics of some Oriental 
 
 ^ It is worthy of note that two writers, so little congruous in other 
 ways as Locke and Bolingbroke, have each expressed the probability that 
 created beings exist elsewhere of higher grade than man. The astrono* 
 jiier may find sonje sanctioii of Ijis own for thi3 conception, 
 
PERFECTIBILITY OF MAN. 173 
 
 cities give curious proof of that native sagacity which 
 man has elsewhere so largely appropriated to his own 
 uses or pleasures. The effect of domestication, indeed, 
 is chiefly that of altering the physical qualities of 
 animals and adapting them to special purposes. But 
 their peculiar instincts also, and those faculties of in- 
 telhgence and feeling which bring them nearest to man, 
 are susceptible of changes, propagated by generation, 
 and often becoming permanent in the race — permanent 
 at least as far as experience goes, for in no case can we 
 be sure that a return to the primitive conditions of the 
 animal might not restore more or less of the original 
 type. To a certain extent, indeed, we know that this 
 happens, but it is equally sure that in some animals 
 the artifi.cial habits acquired become secondary in- 
 stincts, modify the organs and functions, and per- 
 petuate in the race the new quahties acquired. 
 
 The obvious bearing of this on the case of man is 
 open to one important exceptional remark. He alone 
 is submitted to no superior being on the earth capable 
 of thus controlling or perfecting his natural instincts, of 
 cultivating Ms reason, or of creating new capacities and 
 modes of action. As far as we can venture to interpret 
 the design under which he exists, man, as a species, is 
 left to the self-development of the faculties with which 
 he is gifted — faculties varying widely in degree, but 
 alike in quality throughout mankind — acting and acted 
 upon by the accidents of the world without — submitted 
 equally to physical conditions and social influences — 
 subject, further, to congenital propensities and passions 
 in the use or abuse of which hes the exaltation or 
 
174 PERFECTIBILITY OF MAN. 
 
 debasement of his being. We recognise these as the 
 causes wliich, in their operation through ages, have dis- 
 severed mankind into races and nations, as well as into 
 the subordhiate communities and classes — civilised, 
 semi-civilised, or savage — which cover the globe. 
 
 Eecurring to the main question, a special enquiry 
 first presents itself. We see how much has been done 
 by a system of selection and interbreeding in variously 
 modifying and improving the breeds of many other 
 animals, giving new power as well as direction to their 
 original faculties.^ Can similar methods be applied to 
 man with any similar result ? This, with a few partial 
 and insignificant exceptions, has never yet been at- 
 tempted, and the social and sexual relations, even among 
 the least civilised people, make it very unlikely that it 
 should ever fairly be carried into effect. Plato, in his 
 Eepublic, propounds a scheme for giving the state 
 control and direction of marriages as a means of social 
 advancement ; and the austere laws of Sparta, by their 
 ypa^r) KaKoyajxov^ and ypa(f>rj oxjjiyaixov^ assumed a 
 right to the practical use of this power. But any such 
 theories or enactments, based on the narrow scale of 
 Greek republics, are of little present import. We 
 might, indeed, in pure speculation suppose the experi- 
 ment of grouping marriages (excluding close consan- 
 
 ^ Thorouglibred racers furnish an instance in point. The winners 
 descended from Eclipse were reckoned at 334. From other famous horses 
 a still greater number. 
 
 On this subject of congenital propensities we are bound to take large 
 numerical views, illustrations, and averages, such as Humboldt applied 
 to physical geography, and Liebig to other physical phenomena. The 
 average amount of insanity, for instance, as far as it can be derived from 
 authentic documents, &c. 
 
PERFECTIBILITY OF MAX. 175 
 
 guinity), so as to bring into union, through one or more 
 generations, certain special qualities eminent in kind or 
 degree, and including mental as well as bodily endow- 
 ments. As the experiment may probably never be 
 made, it is useless, if not impossible, to conjecture its 
 results — whether the progeny of such conjunctions 
 would be prodigies of excellence or of defects. I 
 mention the latter contingency because what we call 
 genius has for the most part a certain kindred with 
 aberration of mind ; and because we are yet ignorant 
 of those laws of generation and hereditary affinity on 
 which are founded family character, and on a wider 
 scale the character of communities and races. To 
 seek for definite results from the blending of mental 
 qualities by inheritance would be working with untried 
 tools or materials too fine and fugitive for experiment. 
 Putting aside this speculative form of our enquiry, 
 we recur to it under that larger aspect which makes the 
 past history of mankind the interpreter of the possible 
 or probable future. But here, again, under this phrase 
 of the past history of man, how vague from its com- 
 plexity is all we bring into the argument ! Who can 
 define or describe this history even on a single region 
 of the earth's surface, seeing that in every region of 
 which we have historical record changes have been 
 unceasingly in progress, in some cases raising man in 
 the scale of civilisation, in others degrading him to a 
 lower level of life ? These changes and relative condi- 
 tions are manifestly of supreme interest in a question 
 where the extremes are so widely apart ; where we 
 have to compare the Hottentots and Bushmen, the 
 
176 PERFECTIBILITY OF MAN, 
 
 Puegians, the Andaman Islanders and Esquimaux, &c., 
 with the cultivated people of classical antiquity, or 
 with the higher culture of some of the nations of our 
 own time. Can we in changes of physical condition 
 and other natural accidents find explanation of those 
 vast diversities growing out of a single stock of human 
 existence — diversities of human culture which time has 
 brought about in the same regions and even among the 
 same races of men ? 
 
 To meet questions lil^e these we are forced back in 
 speculation on the grade and condition of that primitive 
 people on the earth from which all others have their 
 presumed descent. Here written history is a blank, 
 traditions are wrapt in mist, and our sole reading is in 
 those rude sepulchres of caves and tumuli which have 
 disclosed to us the admixture of human remains with 
 those of animals now extinct on the globe, the present 
 congeners of which dwell in climates and countries far 
 distant from these places of entombment. Such re- 
 searches are yet in their infancy, going little beyond 
 a few detached spots on the face of the earth. Who 
 can conjecture the results of future discovery, es- 
 pecially in those regions of Asia the seats of the 
 oldest empires, as well as of those nomadic races which 
 poured themselves westwards to subdue and occupy 
 what are now the most civiHsed parts of the world ? 
 The inference from the discoveries first denoted is that 
 of rude tribes of men, generally of a lower anatomical 
 type, rudely implemented, but showing in succession, on 
 the same soil, a progress in those arts and means which 
 serve to human subsistence. The successive ages, or 
 
PERFECTIBILITY OF MAN. 177 
 
 what seem such, of stone, bronze, and iron imple- 
 ments, are the interpreters to us of this progress. It 
 may be that these are but the memorials of insulated 
 races, separated and degraded from a higher primitive 
 stock. Time and wider research can alone solve this 
 question. We are unravelling the Assyrian, Babylonian, 
 and Persian histories by sculptured monuments and 
 cuneiform writings, and the caves and mounds of these 
 countries may afford us hereafter the record of still 
 earher times and races of men. Without venturing 
 to affirm the result, it is probable that this path of 
 enquiry will lead us here also only into a ruder form 
 of humanity, and that our knowledge will never go 
 beyond this point. 
 
 Another path, however, is open, more easy and 
 familiar than that just denoted. Still seeking to reach 
 the future through the past, but under less obscure con- 
 ditions, the comparison at once suggests itself between 
 the attainments of the highest civihsation of antiquity 
 and those of the age in which we live. We cannot, 
 indeed, carry this comparison authentically farther than 
 to Greek and Koman antiquity. Egypt and the great 
 Asiatic empires have left us marvellous monuments of 
 older date ; but their semi-civihsation was either 
 arrested or degraded by time, or by the influx of more 
 barbarous races, obliterating the advances that had 
 been anteriorly made. 
 
 A comparison between ancients and moderns can- 
 not, however, come within the narrow compass as- 
 sumed by Sir W. Temple, Bentley, and Boyle in their 
 angry controversy. It is difficult, indeed, to bring 
 
 N 
 
178 PERFECTIBILITY OF MAN. 
 
 moral conditions into tlie question at all, seeing how 
 large and vague is tlie term. But the intellectual re- 
 lations may be better defined and understood; and 
 taking this phrase in its widest sense, the comparison 
 comes to an instant issue. It cannot be doubted that 
 the powers as well as attainments of certain European 
 peoples in our own age have reached a higher grade 
 than those of any other time or people in the anterior 
 history of the world. We may hesitate in giving pre- 
 cise dates to the periods of progress. Hallam has called 
 the seventh century the nadir of European civilisation, 
 while Leibnitz has noted the thirteenth as singularly 
 barren of intellectual culture. But all doubt ceases 
 when we come to the intellectual history of the last 
 three centuries, and especially of the century now in 
 progress — one marked by rapid achievements of dis- 
 covery, invention, thought, and action which will 
 designate it to all posterity. The advancement of 
 physical science stands foremost in the picture, at- 
 tested by the wonderful discoveries of our own time, 
 and in the nature as well as number of these discoveries 
 denoting those higher qualities of intellect to which they 
 are due. The logic of every branch of knowledge has 
 become more strict, the demand for truth and exactness 
 in all results more absolute. Together with a greater 
 perfection of methods, more profound thoughts and 
 higher generahsations have been apphed to those mys- 
 teries of the universe, the power of apprehending 
 which, even partially, is the especial faculty and glory 
 of man. It is impossible to read the writings of the 
 ancient philosophers, even of those who saw farthest 
 
PEEFECTIBILITY OF MAN. 179 
 
 into these things, without recognising the changes that 
 have progressively come over the human mind — 
 changes not hmited to the physical sciences, but ex- 
 tending to all other branches of human knowledge. 
 Germs of thought and speculation which failed to 
 ripen in the philosophy of older times have now 
 matured into established truths. What were conjec- 
 tures have become laws, and it is in the discovery of 
 these laws that we obtain evidence of the highest 
 capacities of man. Some sciences, indeed, such as 
 political economy and social statistics, are almost alto- 
 gether of recent creation ; and seeing their importance 
 to the welfare of mankind, they interpret well that 
 conjoint progress of thought and action which has 
 done so much to extend and define the civilisation of 
 our own age. 
 
 Admitting, however, this progress and higher 
 grade of culture in certain communities of men, we 
 have yet to see what proportion these bear to the 
 totahty of mankind. Neither geography nor arithmetic 
 can be brought to solve a problem thus complex. 
 The areas of higher and lower civilisation are every- 
 where so crossed and intermingled that, even in the 
 countries most familiar to us, lines and numbers fail of 
 affording any certain demarcation. Looking largely 
 over the globe, and especially what is called the Old 
 World, we find some of the most populous nations 
 seemingly arrested at a certain point of progress, and 
 going through ages in succession without notable 
 advancement, often with obvious decHne. . Ancient 
 philosophy or poetry fondled the notion of a primi- 
 
 N 2 ' 
 
180 PERFECTIBILITY OF UA^. 
 
 tive purity, a golden age, of man, sullied and defaced 
 in later times. But history, as we have seen, is silent 
 or speaks only in fables of these earlier epochs of man- 
 kind. What it tells us gives no measure of time, or 
 knowledge of what was human life, in the long ante- 
 cedent void. 
 
 These considerations give more definite shape to 
 the questions before us: How far may the advance- 
 ment of a portion of mankind be carried by ulterior 
 progress? And how may such advancement be ex- 
 tended over the entire earth and to all races of men ? 
 Taking the latter and wider question first, one conclu- 
 sion speedily presents itself, viz., that all future pro- 
 gress in mental culture and civilisation of the great 
 masses of mankind — whether defined as races, nations, 
 or classes of men — must for the future come by diffu- 
 sion from those points or centres where the torch of a 
 brighter humanity is abeady kindled and ready to 
 cast its light around. That there are many dark lines 
 mingled in this light may well be confessed. But it is 
 nevertheless the source whence the larger civihsation 
 of the world must come, accelerated and assured by 
 those recent acquisitions of power which are due to 
 the science of our day. The steam-engine, on land 
 and sea, has broken through all the barriers which 
 formerly divided and dissevered nations. When we 
 can send a message across the Atlantic in a few 
 seconds, by an agent scarcely known two centuries 
 ago, it may well be felt that all old reckonings of time 
 and distance are gone by, and that the future state of 
 the world will be subject to conditions veiy different 
 from those of the past. 
 
PERFECTIBILITY OP MAN. 181 
 
 Such changes are rapidly going on under our 
 eyes. They all tend, directly or indirectly, to the 
 greater unity of mankind — to the assimilation of lan- 
 guages, modes of government, knowledge and arts, 
 and the habits of personal and social hfe, among 
 peoples widely separated though all prior ages. 
 Taking fair measure of time into the account (and of 
 the future duration of time on the earth we are as 
 ignorant as of the past), we may securely ajQ&rm that 
 the total aspect of human hfe will be altered over the 
 globe. Important questions arise how far this assimi- 
 lation of races over the globe may not, for a time at 
 least, lower the human scale in some of its attributes. 
 Look at the changes going on at this time in the an- 
 cient empires of India, China, Egj^t, and Japan — at 
 the rapid, perhaps precocious, growth of populous 
 communities transplanted from the Old World to the 
 prairies and forests of the Indians in North America, 
 or to the lands of the ruder savages of Australia, both 
 the destined centres of a new and wide civilisation. It 
 is a revolution of centuries accomplished within the 
 existing generation of man. The slave-trade has 
 been happily displaced by a trade in free emigrants, 
 seeking to find in these new regions more space and 
 scope than the Old World can afford them. Glancing 
 on the globe at the position and petty surface of our 
 own island, it may well seem marvellous that this 
 single nation (the ultimi orbis Britanni) should have 
 played so dominant a part in the mighty changes now 
 in progress. Milton speaks of ' England's precedence 
 in teaching nations how to hve.' If the phrase were 
 true for his time, how much more is it for our own I 
 
182 PERFECTIBILITY OF MAN. 
 
 The conclusion we have reached, that the elevation 
 of the species must be derived chiefly from the higher 
 civilisations already partially attained, suggests at once 
 the question, how may the flow from this fountain be 
 itself rendered more abundant and pure ? How may 
 the import of the very word Civilisation be raised, by 
 its being associated in the future with higher faculties 
 of intellect and moral feehng ? 
 
 The question, thus shaped, is one abounding in 
 curious speculation and of deep interest. Admitting 
 the capacity for higher development, which among the 
 faculties bestowed on man are most susceptible of such 
 elevation ? Here the answer may best be, those which 
 in degree, if not in kind, most markedly distinguish 
 him from the brute creation. The senses of sight, 
 hearing, and touch, which mainly connect man with the 
 external world, are severally possessed by many other 
 animals in greater perfection of natural sensibihty, but 
 without the capacity for that augmentation of power 
 which human genius has given to these senses, and to 
 that of vision more especially. The outer form, and 
 those internal organs on which man's life depends, are 
 probably susceptible of little farther change, from those 
 incidents of soil, climate, food, and social condition, 
 which have created and defined the actual communities 
 of mankind. It is to the brain, as the instrumental 
 minister of mind, that we must look, if admitting a 
 material cause for the advancement of man in the scale 
 of being. A free admission of ignorance as to all 
 that concerns the proximate relations of matter and 
 mind exempts us from dealing here with this long-liti- 
 gated question. What physiology and comparative 
 
PERFECTIBILITY OF IL\N, 183 
 
 anatomy call upon us to believe is, that the brain, in 
 its size and weight, in the proportion of its parts, and 
 in other specialties of structure, does — we know not 
 how or why — correspond with and in some sort de- 
 note the capacities of mind of which it is the instru- 
 ment. Many exceptions and anomalies there are, 
 and these wrapped in the same mystery as the normal 
 relations of elements so entirely incongruous to our 
 conceptions, yet so inseparable in our present existence. 
 In this failure of all interpretation we are forced to 
 acquiesce. 
 
 We must, therefore, not too keenly speculate on 
 the manner and proportion in which the mind and the 
 material organ may respectively contribute to the de- 
 velopment of higher powers. The argument before us 
 rests upon the assumed facts, that there are notable 
 differences in the brain as regards volume and other 
 structiural peculiarities — that these differences have 
 some connexion, however inexpHcable, with the kind 
 and degree of the mental endowments — and that they 
 can be extended and perpetuated by inheritance, so as 
 to characterise not only individuals but whole races of 
 mankind. The different forms and capacity of the 
 skull in different races have been carefully examined, 
 and they accord well with the relations just denoted.^ 
 Human design has had little or nothing to do with 
 these results. But in their existence itself we have the 
 proof of an aptitude for change which, even apart from 
 
 * It is the view of Herbert Spencer (in contradistinction to the doctrine 
 of Kant, regarding innate perceptions or ideas), that the constitution of 
 our minds is wholly derived from experience — not individual experience 
 solely, but the accumulated experience of our ancestors transmitted to us 
 hereditarily/. 
 
184 PERFECTIBILITY OF MAJ^. 
 
 any direct purpose or intervention, may issue hereafter 
 in higher degrees of mental attainment — in greater 
 vigour of the faculties generally, as well as of those 
 special qualities and those felicities of genius which in 
 every age seem to have carried some men beyond the 
 sphere of their common humanity. The occurrence of 
 the latter instances, though they come in strong con- 
 trast to the mediocrity or abasement characterising 
 the mass of mankind, gives proof of capacities belong- 
 ing to the species as such, from which we may augur, 
 under new conditions, its future and more general 
 elevation. 
 
 In pursuing the argument, however, we must not 
 analyse too minutely those various faculties of percep- 
 tion, intellect, feeling, and will, to which we give unity 
 under the name of Mind ; nor those innate individual 
 propensities (aberrent they may often be called) on 
 which the phrenologists dwell in evidence of their doc- 
 trine, and which, whencesoever derived, are elements 
 both in the highest elevation and greatest abasement of 
 man. Here, more especially, we encounter those mys- 
 terious problems regarding generation and inheritance 
 which are of such deep concernment in this as in other 
 questions now under active discussion. Science is still 
 working outside these problems. If it should ever go 
 deeper into them, the question as to the future perfecti- 
 bility of man might gather some special evidence or 
 presumption from this source. As it is we must be 
 content in coming to a general conclusion on the 
 general grounds already denoted. 
 
 These reasons, however short of absolute proof, are 
 
PERFECTIBILITY OF MAN. 185 
 
 fully sufficient to convince my own mind of a futurity 
 to man on earth more exalted than his present condi- 
 tion here. Inequalities, vast and various, there must 
 ever be, from the necessities of human existence, but 
 the grade of the species may be raised. Admission 
 being made of the capacity for change, and this with- 
 out any known limit of amount, the argument recurs 
 for illustration to the comparison of what is with what 
 has been, and the inference from this as to the possible 
 or probable future. It is a subject fitter for a volume 
 than a loose essay. I will merely remark here, that 
 had there been any prior type of civilisation higher 
 than that of Greece and Eome, it must inevitably have 
 left its marks behind. We may take this grade of 
 mental culture, then, though deficient in some arts and 
 inventions which even China and India had attained, as 
 the highest of the ancient world. But, however re- 
 markable in many ways, it had not vigour enough 
 to perpetuate itself, when brought into conflict with 
 abuses from within and barbarian pressure from with- 
 out. A long series of dark centuries intervened be- 
 tween this era and that of modern civilisation, during 
 which period Christianity itself, in its creeds, acts, and 
 usages, was degraded to a level little above that of the 
 feudal barbarism co-existing with it. 
 
 Such degradation as that of the Dark Ages in 
 Europe can never occur again. The present areas of 
 high civilisation, though still limited in extent, and de- 
 faced by many dark shades, are not exposed to the 
 dangers just denoted. They cannot again be overrun 
 by ruder races from without ; and any internal changes, 
 
186 PERFECTIBILITY OF MAN. 
 
 especially in countries where the present maximum of 
 elevation has not yet been reached, are much more 
 likely to result in ulterior progress than in decay. 
 Add to this the wonderful powers, won by man from 
 nature, for rapid diffusion over the globe of the attain- 
 ments hitherto limited to certain detached regions 
 only, and we may fairly rest in the conclusion that 
 the human race has a higher destiny before it than the 
 perpetuation of its present estate. 
 
 I must admit, however, that the argument thus far 
 regards chiefly the intellectual advancement of man, 
 and the means serving to this great end. His moral 
 and social progress in the future is a matter of at least 
 equal concern — a topic closely alhed, indeed, to the 
 former, but rendered still more difficult of discussion 
 by the ambiguities of language and the more complex 
 evidence with which we have to deal in comparing the 
 moral condition of ancient periods and countries with 
 that of the world in our own time. To what common 
 formula or phraseology can we reduce elements so 
 diverse and so difficult of interpretation, even where 
 most familiar to us ? There is, indeed, a certain com- 
 munity of character in mankind, derived from a com- 
 mon nature, and from those necessities of hfe which 
 press ahke upon all. But this is overlaid by so many 
 specialties, physical, local, and accidental, that we can 
 seldom compass any complete or certain conclusions. 
 Take even Eome as an instance. From history, poetry, 
 and satire we know its social condition under the early 
 Emperors better than that of any other ancient city. 
 Yet how vague our comparison, in a moral sense, of 
 
PERFECTIBILITY OF MAN. 187 
 
 the mass of this population with that of a modern 
 capital ! And, if reaching any plausible conclusion as 
 to cities, how little does this tell us of the multitudes 
 peopling the empires and kingdoms to which these 
 cities belong! Such comparisons, apphed either to 
 different ages or to different countries and races of 
 men, rest much on ill-defined words and phrases, and 
 afford Httle assurance of truth. The vocabulary of 
 the most abstruse physical science is simple compared 
 with that of moral and social philosophy. 
 
 Allowing, however, for all these ambiguities, we 
 cannot doubt the well-proved fact that the moral and 
 social character of a people, taking these terms in their 
 highest and clearest sense, may be greatly and last- 
 ingly elevated by the concurrent influence of good laws 
 and government, of religion and education truthfully 
 and wisely administered. While in every case the 
 actual attainment is far below theoretic perfection, the 
 existence of such attainment becomes a pledge for 
 progress beyond. Even taste, ' that delicate and aerial 
 faculty which can scarcely endure the chains of a de- 
 finition,' may well be supposed capable, if not of higher 
 powers, yet certainly of so much larger diffusion as to 
 give fi:esh life and refinement to those moral conditions 
 with which it is always closely associated. 
 
 History furnishes no such pregnant example of the 
 change in question as that already referred to, viz., the 
 contrast between the last three centuries, during which 
 Western Europe has ripened into its actual civilisation, 
 and the thousand years directly preceding them. Many 
 single stars are seen through this long gloom of ages 
 
188 PERFECTIBILITY OF MAN. 
 
 ^-men such as Alfred, Bede, Anselm, Abelard, Eoger 
 Bacon, Aquinas, Dante, and Wickliffe — who rose above 
 their time in moral and intellectual power. But the 
 dark picture of so many centuries is little illumined by 
 these flitting lights. Its true colouring is that of bar- 
 barian inroads on a tottering and vicious Empire — of 
 feudal tyrannies — of ecclesiastical superstitions or frauds 
 — of the selfish austerities or more secret evils of the 
 monastic hfe — of persecution in its worst shapes — 
 and of a general ignorance and credulity ofiering itself 
 an easy prey to these incumbent evils. The fictions of 
 an age of chivalry and of mediseval learning have 
 passed away, and we can happily bring these thousand 
 years of darkness into strong contrast with the social 
 as well as intellectual state since attained. I wiUingly 
 employ the word Humanity, in its largest sense, to de- 
 note that which has been the subject and substance of 
 the change which has thus supervened. And one chief 
 mark or test of this change among civiUsed nations is 
 the more zealous effort, on principle^ to reform old 
 errors and abuses by annulling or mitigating the laws, 
 customs, and creeds in which they have come down to 
 us. There is cause for some pride in afiirming that 
 England furnishes the fairest example of efforts thus 
 directed to the abolition of old abuses and towards a 
 higher future. 
 
 The actual moral evils in the world are such, how- 
 ever, and so many, that time must be taken largely 
 into our calculations of this future. Some of these 
 evils can hardly be detached from the necessities of 
 existence, as they affect the bulk of mankind ; but 
 
PERFECTIBILITY OF MAN. 189 
 
 there are others which happier ages may mitigate, if 
 they cannot altogether annul. Of these war stands 
 first and foremost — an anomaly it might well be called, 
 were it not that the pages of all history are sullied with 
 its records, from the earliest time down to our own 
 day, among the most civilised and religious as well as 
 most savage races of men. When and how is this 
 blemish upon humanity to be efiaced? Our actual 
 civilisation, as we see, has failed to effect it. Is there 
 any higher grade attainable by man which may meet 
 this great requirement? I would fain believe that 
 there is such — to be reached through the progress of 
 the moral and intellectual faculties, and itself furnish- 
 ing the best test and happiest result of this progress. 
 Ages may pass beforehand, but it is hardly credible 
 that the time should not come when this dark stain 
 will be removed from the history of mankind. 
 
190 
 
 INFINITY— ETEBNITY^THE UNTHINKABLE. 
 
 Three words of great import in every sense, and 
 having a common relation to the most profound objects 
 of human thought ! It is a German poet who some- 
 where prays to be saved from the harassing notion of 
 Infinity, and not without cause for the wish, since the 
 fact or idea expressed by this single word marks the 
 barrier before which reason recoils in awe and despair. 
 Whether space, time, or number be concerned, an 
 argument trenching on this attribute of infinity is at 
 once arrested, and no subtlety of words or thought can 
 carry it farther. The phraseology of common speech, 
 and even of grav^ doctrine, does indeed often employ 
 the word, but in some cases mischievously, and never 
 with any reality to the understanding. 
 
 It is one of the tests of true philosophy to know 
 when this barrier of the Infinite has been reached. 
 Between the infinitely great and the infinitely small — 
 the celestial distances and magnitudes, and the atoms 
 and atomical actions of matter — we stand on a middle 
 ground, closed at each end, yet spacious enough for 
 the largest intellect and genius to work in. Then 
 again as to time. The moment of present being lies 
 between the infinite past and the infinite future — equi- 
 distant from both in the sole sense we can give to what 
 
INFINITY — ETERNITY — ^THE UNTHINKABLE. 191 
 
 has no conceivable limit behind or before us. Eternity, 
 indeed, has become almost exclusively a theological 
 term, to which few can, or dare, attach its full meaning. 
 It is a word of solemn sound, but barren to the under- 
 standing — ' a negative idea clothed with a positive 
 name.' 
 
 Numbers, in expressing the quantities and relations 
 of space, motion, and time, as well as the atomic 
 constitution of matter, carry us far into the depths 
 where thought finally loses itself in the infinite. How- 
 ever starthng, and to many incredible, the arrays of 
 figures through which science now expounds the great 
 phenomena of nature, these are really the methods 
 which distinguish and protect truth from ignorant and 
 idle speculation. What can be translated into and 
 checked by arithmetic is generally a sound conclu- 
 sion, whatever the amount of numbers concerned. 
 Such figures, indeed, sometimes carry certainty so far 
 beyond the reach of conception that the term Infinite 
 seems justifiably apphed to what is in reality but a 
 step towards it. The mathematician, through his 
 peculiar method of interrogating nature, attains some 
 results which no observation or experiment can reach, 
 and often touches on those terminal points where an 
 Infinite in the series stops all progress beyond. Those 
 ultimate ratios, which Berkeley calls 'the ghosts of 
 departed quantities,' approach the depths of the infinite, 
 but halt on the brink. 
 
 The controversies as to motion in the abstract — a 
 dispute stretching from the age of Zeno and Aristotle 
 to that of Newton and Boyle — and the kindred ques- 
 
192 INFINITY — ETERNITY— THE UNTHINKABLE. 
 
 tion regarding force, similarly unconditional, well 
 illustrate these subtle methods of seeking ingress into 
 the innermost secrets of nature. With the ancient 
 philosophers all this was a sort of intellectual disport- 
 ment. In our day the progress of more exact science, 
 both by experiment and observation, has brought us 
 into direct contact with these problems, and very 
 especially with that which regards the origin and 
 nature of force — of that invisible but momentous power 
 or powers on v/hich depend alike the great motions of 
 the universe and the most minute atomic or molecular 
 actions of matter itself But here, again, human 
 thought has hitherto been baffled in its struggle with 
 the inscrutable ; and where not ending with a reductio 
 ad ahsurdum has been compelled to halt upon sub- 
 ordinate laws, and terms provisional only, to express 
 the unknown that hes beyond. 
 
 The word Unthinkable has been well applied of late 
 to denote some of the objects and speculations of which 
 I have been speaking. Another phrase, familiar from 
 recent controversy, shows the fashion of language still 
 employed to veil our ignorance. This is the Uncon- 
 ditioned Absolute, a cumbrous conjunction of words, 
 whether theologically or otherwise apphed, and ex- 
 pressing no truth which a simpler phrase might not 
 have conveyed.^ To go thus back to the scholastic 
 
 ' Sir W. Hamilton has sought to give the character of a ' law of 
 mind ' to these relations of the intellect with the conceivable or condi- 
 tioned, and the incmiceivable or unconditioned. The infinite and absolute 
 come under the latter head as unthinkable to our reason. Admitting the 
 distinction, it adds but little to what we knew before. 
 
INFINITY — ETERNITY — ^THE UNTHINKABLE. 193 
 
 ages for the phraseology as well as substance of an 
 argument, is a poor homage to the ampler and more 
 exact knowledge of our own time. Lofty though the 
 aspirations of physical science now are, they more 
 readily recognise and acquiesce in the limitations im- 
 posed upon them, than do those metaphysical theories, 
 German or English, which end but in a labyrinth of 
 words. 
 
 Yet when thus speaking of the practical Umits of 
 human knowledge — of those points in every science 
 where the infinite and unthinkable come in — we must 
 not deny the existence of ulterior truths — felt to be 
 such, though not comprehensible by reason. There is 
 more than mere paradox' in the saying of a French 
 philosopher : ' La, oil finit le raisonnement, commence 
 la veritable certitude ; ' and Pascal lucidly, as always, 
 illustrates the impotence of reason to reach a truth 
 which must nevertheless be such.^ What we feel as 
 wholly beyond the scope of thought does not lose its 
 reality by being so. Taking an instance just alluded 
 to, we can affirm that God Z5, though we know not 
 how or what He is. This ignorance, in fact, is denoted 
 by the very terms we use to express our adoration of 
 the Supreme Being. The words Infinite, Immortal, 
 Immense, Invisible, Incorporeal, Absolute, &c., do not 
 assert what is, but what is not. I have just turned up 
 
 * Pascal says that we neither conceive a line divided by an infinite 
 number of bisections, nor a section that cannot be divided ; but though 
 these contraries are both inconceivable, one of them must necessarily be 
 true. 
 
194 IXFINITY — ETERNITY — THE UNTHINKABLE. 
 
 ill Photius a series of epithets similarly applied— to 
 acrcofxaTOv^ to aoparov^ ro airXovv^ to acr^iiaTicTTOVy &c. 
 It is what Mr. Mill somewhere calls 'a fasciculus of 
 negations/ but negations commonly understood in a 
 positive sense. 
 
195 
 
 NATURAL THEOLOGY. 
 
 All natural reason and feeling, and all controversies 
 regarding the Deity, however disguised by words, in- 
 volve two distinct views, viz., that which regards him 
 as everywhere and at all times present, and acting in 
 all events ; and secondly, that which regards him as 
 personally or undividedly apart from those great laws 
 of universal nature which he primarily designed and 
 rendered active by his power. 
 
 But here, as in many other matters beyond our 
 senses and reason, what are apparent opposites closely 
 approach each other. ^ The Deity, present and acting 
 throughout all nature, becomes in effect the general 
 law. The general law, regarded in the sense of a fixed 
 and perpetual operation, usurps the place of the 
 Creator. The approximation here expresses the diffi- 
 culty, ever found, of escaping some form of pantheism, 
 when seeking to scale this high problem by reason 
 alone. Scrutinise severally the orthodox terms of 
 Omniscience, Omnipresence, and Omnipotence, and 
 you feel yourself brought to the edge of the abyss 
 denoted by this single word. Oriental philosophy, and 
 that of the classical ages, came upon pantheism by the 
 
 ' ^Les extr^mit^s se touclient, et se r<5unissent a force de s'etre 
 ^loign^es, et se retrouvent en Dieu et en Dieu seulement.' — Pascal. 
 
 2 
 
196 NATURAL THEOLOGY. 
 
 same paths of thought which had led Spinoza, Goethe, 
 and others of later time to the same general issue ; 
 any seeming variations being due either to ambiguities 
 of language or to the mental temperament of the en- 
 quirer. When, for instance, we take up Goethe's writ- 
 ings we find him pressing on to his pantheistic conclu- 
 sion with a power and poetry of language which 
 entangle his reason, and almost disguise his conclu- 
 sions from himself. Even Newton, in a paragraph of 
 his own handwriting which I have seen, gives expres- 
 sion to what must be declared a pantheistic view of 
 the nature of the Deity ; though elsewhere sohcitous to 
 avoid a conclusion which Cudworth not inaptly terms 
 ' the deifying the nature of things,' and which, by what- 
 ever path arrived at, leaves the mind in an impene- 
 trable labyrinth of its own creation. 
 
 I do not know any attainment of natural theology 
 in our own time, either by abstract reasoning or induc- 
 tive evidence, which has not been in some way pre- 
 ceded and prefaced by those who have thought or 
 written in ages gone by. Dryden asks, in his ' Eeligio 
 Laici ' — 
 
 Ciinst thou by reason more of Godhead know 
 Than Plutarch, Seneca, or Cicero ? 
 
 And but for the limitation of verse he might have 
 added the great names of Plato and Aristotle ; and 
 among Eoman writers those especially of Lucretius and 
 PHny, who in one way or other exhaust every concep- 
 tion which human reason can apply to the Divinity 
 above it. We have various references to the same 
 theme as handled by the earliest Greek philosophers, 
 
NATURAL THEOLOGY. 197 
 
 the ol 7rp6(T0€u tjijlcjp of whom Plato speaks, as recog- 
 nising a supreme Novs koL ^povrjo-i^ governing through- 
 out the universe. The same behef, as is well known, 
 has been handed down, under more vague or distorted 
 forms, from the remote antiquity of all the great Ori- 
 ental races. The Egyptians, though like other astro- 
 laters locating their Supreme Power in the sun, yet 
 held that this embodiment was assumed by his own 
 volition. Among the savage races over the earth the 
 same conception exists of a Supreme Being, however 
 rudely material the expression given to it. 
 
 We might expect all this to be so. Apart from all 
 revelation, the general conception of a Deity,^however 
 modified in details, springs from sources common to 
 every race of men in every age, viz., the need, as it 
 may well be termed, of conceiving some Intelhgence 
 and Power distinct from and above our own ; and the 
 proofs from design or adaptation throughout the world 
 that to this Intelhgent Power belongs the work of crea- 
 tion and the maintenance of things made. If these 
 conceptions are ever annulled it must be by the arti- 
 fices of metaphysical language, and not by any realities 
 of thought. 
 
 Without dwelling on Warburton's opinion (a very 
 doubtful one), that the greater Elusiuian Mysteries 
 taught expressly the unity of God, or quoting from 
 Cudworth's vast body of authorities on the subject, it 
 is enough to say generally of the great Greek and 
 Latin writers that they rarely use other than the sin- 
 gular number when speaking explicitly of the existence 
 and attributes of Divine Power. Polytheism is cast 
 
198 NATURAL THEOLOGY. 
 
 aside in such cases almost without comment or re- 
 morse. In notes I have made of the more striking 
 passages bearing on this point I find few exceptions to 
 the remark. Aristotle's expression of unity is espe- 
 cially simple and distinct — Eh 8e toV, ttoXuw^u/aos ecm ; 
 and as far as I recollect he hardly ever speaks of the 
 heathen deities by name. Seneca, whose power of 
 deep thought has been somewhat hidden under affecta- 
 tions of his style, expresses the same idea. Even where 
 the plural is used in such discussions the tendency is 
 often to a singular meaning, or the two forms are in- 
 differently mixed, as in the ' Tiraeeus ' of Plato, who 
 makes his Zevs almost synonymous with cause or 
 mind.^ The dramatists and poets, for obvious reasons 
 of art, speak more as polytheists, yet we read in Pindar 
 of the mysterious rig, supreme in the government of 
 the world ; and ^schylus shadows forth the conception 
 of a higher being than the Zeus who chained Prome- 
 theus to the rock. The Homeric Zeus has itself formed 
 the theme of a learned work in Germany.^ But, as 
 regards the polytheism of the ancients, it must ever be 
 kept in mind that it comes to us mainly through the 
 medium of poetry, which filled up and coloured the 
 wandering traditions of different races of men, giving 
 them an embodiment whicli the philosophy even of 
 that time refused to recognise. 
 
 Earely, if ever, do we find the sentiment of real 
 
 ' I fear it must be said that the most learned commentaries on Plato 
 (and no heathen author has been so sedulously scrutinised for his mean- 
 ings) have failed to decipher his entire opinions on this subject. Take 
 passages in the l<l6f(.oi in proof of th© difficulty. 
 
 * That of Dr. Matter. 
 
NATURAL THEOLOGY* 199 
 
 veneration addressed to the deities of the ancient 
 mythology, though such feeling is often expressed to- 
 wards the one Supreme Being. The ancient moralists, 
 including those of the Stoic school, when they bring 
 human virtue into connexion with the Divine Power, 
 almost always do so under the conception of unity. 
 The writings of Plutarch, of Epictetus and Marcus 
 Aurelius may be quoted in proof of this. 
 
 In all forms of polytheism, indeed, it seems probable 
 that the earliest view of the nature and attributes of 
 the Deity was the simplest. This might well be ex- 
 pected, seeing that the tendency of growing but still 
 imperfect civilisation must ever be to aggregate new 
 objects of veneration, of fear, love, or desire to those 
 of older date. Polytheism, especially where keeping 
 its hold on more civilised peoples, strangely brings be- 
 fore us these incongruous vagaries of human folly — 
 witness the Eomans, who ended by bestowing divine 
 honours upon even the most profligate of their em- 
 perors. 
 
 Various passages, however, in Seneca and Pliny 
 show well the diiferent nature of the questions which 
 the wiser men of that age propounded to themselves, 
 and their close affinity to the problems which have ever 
 since perplexed and agitated human thought. The 
 pantheism of these passages is essentially the same as 
 that of Spinoza and the more recent German writers, 
 through language, ever ready with its disguises, may 
 lend a different aspect to the doctrine. 
 
 While touching thus far on the opinions of the 
 ancient philosophers, it is impossible not to feel that the 
 
200 >'ATUBAL THEOLOGY. 
 
 controversies and creeds of the early Christian Churches 
 have led to a more obscure and unsettled conception of 
 the Deity than we find in some of these great heathen 
 writers. The old and vehement disputes concerning 
 the nature of the Trinity, though now for a time sunk 
 into silence amidst other controversies, were yet still 
 rife in my younger days, and but two centuries ago 
 called for the interposition of the sovereign to arrest the 
 angry argument of two of our most eminent divines. 
 
 The metaphysical or a 'priori proof of a Deity, 
 variously attempted at successive times, is felt more as 
 an exercise of logic than a conclusion of the reason. 
 The speculations of Proclus and the neo-Platonists in 
 the nature of the Supreme Being, repeated in modern 
 phrase by Hegel and others of his school, leave the 
 question in the obscurity from which they profess to 
 withdraw it.^ The schoolmen of the dark ages be- 
 stowed their logical subtleties on the subject without 
 solving any of its difficulties. Archbishop Anselm is 
 perhaps the one who has left the deepest mark of his 
 genius upon it. The axiom in his Prologium, that the 
 idea of God in the mind of man is in itself an irrefra- 
 gable proof of his existence, descended in succession to 
 Descartes and Leibnitz, and has given foundation to the 
 belief of many men of lesser note in the world. The 
 labours of Dr. S. Clark on this subject are well-nigh 
 forgotten. 
 
 ^ There is more wisdom, because more candid confession of ignorance, 
 in the words of St. Augustine : *■ Verius cogitatur Deus quam dicitur, 
 verius est quam cogitatur.' Sir I. Newton's expression, *■ Non est seternitas, 
 sed setemus et infinitus ; non est duratio et spatium, sed durat et adest,' 
 escapes pantheism by giving personality. 
 
J^ATURAL THEOLOGY. 201 
 
 But after all no reference to ancient opinions, nor 
 any mere abstract propositions, can satisfy that craving 
 of the mind for greater certainty which this question 
 begets. The only safe and solid foundation of natural 
 theology is happily the simplest and easiest of attain- 
 ment ; that is, a conviction of the personality or indi- 
 viduahty of the Deity, and of design in the creation. 
 These are the points (in themselves inseparably allied) 
 of highest concernment to man. What we seek for is 
 the proof of an individual being, who has designed 
 what we see in the world around us, and carried these 
 designs into effect, either by specific acts of creation 
 or by the mediate action of powers and laws directed 
 to their end. The ' natura naturans' of certain authors 
 satisfies no conception, intellectual or moral. The 
 phrase of Natural Law is a barren one, unless annexed 
 to the idea of a legislator ; and to bring in the word 
 Nature as fulfilling this idea is but a recoil of language 
 upon itself. In reasoning on the personal unity of 
 God, as attested and represented by the unity of crea- 
 tion, we gain, it is true, no comprehension of his nature 
 or mode of existence. The absolute unconditioned and 
 other such phrases are words and not meanings, and 
 bring at most only negative conclusions to the mind. 
 But the individuality of God — and I think this a better 
 term than personality — can be comprehended as a sub- 
 ject of thought. And when this conviction is gained 
 through the evidences of design, as contrasted with 
 chance — ^for this is the real point in question — ^it fur- 
 nishes the nearest approach which simple reason can 
 make to this great mystery of the universe. 
 
202 NATURAL THEOLOGY. 
 
 Duly apprehending, then, these conditions of the 
 problem, we come finally to such evidences as the true, 
 if not sole, basis of natural theology — the argument of 
 every age and race of mankind. Will to design and 
 power to execute are the conceptions which belong to 
 the natural belief in God, under every form which 
 religion has assumed. For religion, however distorted 
 by human formularies, can only rightly be defined as 
 the relation of man to his Creator, under the actual 
 conditions of this life and the contingencies of a future. 
 Sir J. Herschel uses the term of a Personal Will, and in 
 many parts of his admirable writings dwells upon the 
 conception of such personal will as concerned in all the 
 great works of nature. Through the admission of a 
 system of secondary laws we may keep this conception 
 asunder from that pantheism in which, as we see, so 
 many hypotheses have merged. 
 
 Arguments and proofs of design spun out through 
 volumes (as in the ' Bridgewater Treatises') are of less 
 practical value than a few cogent cases, ready at hand, 
 certain in conclusion, and easily understood. It is a 
 common fault in this, as in other like questions, to seek 
 to strengthen proof by multiplying instances, without 
 regard to their relative weight. The force of the im- 
 pression is thereby lessened, and the thought led to 
 wander from that which is more certain to that which is 
 less so. I think it is Swift who says : ' An idle reason 
 weakens the weight of good ones given before.' Let a 
 man have in hand two or three well-assured instances, 
 such as no doubt can disturb, and he is prepared at 
 
NATURAL THEOLOGY. 203 
 
 every moment to renew and fortify the convictions lie 
 has once attained. 
 
 Of the various forms this argument from design 
 has assumed I still think that of Paley the best, from 
 the lucid manner in which he makes his illustrations 
 serve to establish the personality of the Creator and his 
 unity in creation. He happily expresses in a few words 
 the conclusion attained : ' I desire no greater certainty 
 in reasoning than that by which chance is excluded 
 from the present disposition of the material world.' 
 
 There are those of the present day who deprecate 
 the looking after final causes^ and bring the epithet of 
 Lord Bacon to justify their distrust. I myself could 
 wish the phrase changed for one more simply suggest- 
 ing intention or design. But, be the wording what it 
 may, the meaning is one which cannot be discarded. 
 The idea involved has often been ignorantly or pre- 
 sumptuously applied, but this does not annul its reality 
 as a great elementary truth attainable by our reason. 
 And it may be added in this instance that one case 
 well proved becomes the interpreter and proof of a 
 thousand. 
 
 Seeking for the best example of such instantice 
 crucis as I have suggested for use, the eye at once 
 offers itself — famihar as an illustration, yet not to be 
 despised on that account, nor because it needs some 
 understanding of this wonderful organ, well described 
 as ' equal in force to many volumes of theology.' The 
 perfect adaptation of a most complex structure to the 
 not less complex properties of light is so complete in 
 
204 NATUKAL THEOLOGY. 
 
 its proof of design to form and power to execute^ that 
 to dispute the condusion is to give up the office of 
 reason. Or, Hmit the case to the passage of hght 
 through the crystalhne lens only, and to the effect of 
 its singular structure in rectifying vision, and the argu- 
 ment even gains in force by its simplicity. Some have 
 sought to impugn the perfectness of the organ ; but even 
 had they not been answered by Brewster and Hehn- 
 holtz, the conclusion would not have lost its validity. 
 
 Were we able to interpret equally the delicate and 
 complex parts of the internal ear, the evidence of de- 
 sign here would doubtless be no less cogent. In truth, 
 the four little bones of the tympanum, ignorant though 
 we are of the specialties of their use, do yet in their 
 pecuharities of position and connexion as clearly denote 
 design, and design fulfilled, as if the purpose of each 
 was written out distinctly before us. Chance could 
 not have placed them there. In these instances, in- 
 deed, as more distinctly in many others, we may notice 
 certain approximations in series from lower grades of 
 life, and in the case of the eye certain incidental varia- 
 tions which seem to be transmissible by inheritance. 
 But still these things, carefully attested, cannot annul 
 the conclusion, founded explicitly upon adaptation of 
 structure to the complex laws of light and sound, that 
 these organs are fashioned by design, and are not the 
 result of casual conformation or of any selective power 
 inherent in the creatures thus endowed. Whether the 
 expression be illogical or not, I would cite the eye as 
 an instance where all reason merges at once in a cer- 
 tain and inevitable conclusion. 
 
NATURAL THEOLOGY. 205 
 
 The whole physiology of animal life abounds in 
 such instances (especially the specific secretions oi special 
 organs) fitted to be thus used. But what I here seek to 
 press is the storing up of a few the most instant and 
 certain in conclusion. The various ills and turmoils of 
 life, as well as the vagaries of human thought, require 
 that the convictions so obtained should be often and 
 easily renewed. No form of religion but must gain by 
 that natural theology which can be brought home to 
 the acts and duties of daily life. Laborious treatises, 
 if read, are speedily forgotten. We want instances 
 which no argument can disturb or gainsay ; and a few 
 such become the interpreters of a multitude of others 
 more obscure to our limited view. 
 
 In the foregoing pages I have treated of natural 
 theology chiefly as regards the existence and indivi- 
 duahty of a Supreme Being, the designer and potentially 
 the author of the works of creation we see around us. 
 Of the moral attributes of the Deity, as they have been 
 somewhat presumptuously called, I do not speak here, 
 thinking on various accounts that this topic, when ven- 
 tured upon at all, comes better apart from and in 
 sequel to the other. One remark only I would make, 
 having relation to both, viz., that the argument for 
 design from organic structure is in nowise vitiated by 
 defects in such structures arising from accident or 
 natural decay. These must be held as parts of a 
 larger scheme, w^hich our imperfect conception of 
 the intents and methods of creation prevents us 
 from approaching even by the boldest natural hypo- 
 thesis. 
 
206 
 
 MATERIALISM AS A QUESTION OF SCIENCE 
 AND PHILOSOPHY, 
 
 What more can be said on this question than has 
 heretofore been said? The arguments of the mate- 
 riahst are essentially the same, whencesoever derived 
 or however worded. Their truth can never be proved, 
 nor absolutely disproved — in other words, they cannot 
 logically be disproved, because they are incapable of 
 proof. You may refine ad infinitum upon material 
 structure and the forces affecting it, and indicate new 
 relations of these to the functions and faculties of 
 mind, without advancing one step to the real solution 
 of the problem. The old questions still start up : 
 What more do we know of matter than of spirit? 
 May not the qualities, so-called, of matter have their 
 reahty in mental consciousness only? That such 
 questions have been asked and vindicated is the best 
 proof that human reason is unable to encounter them 
 in this ultimate form. 
 
 Still it is well to simplify the reasonings which thus 
 end in a confession of ignorance. They have been so 
 far entangled in the fluctuating language of different 
 ages and schools, that some care is needed to keep the 
 argument and conclusion fairly in sight. Even now 
 new terms come in quick succession to perplex the 
 questions which two or three centuries ago Descartes, 
 
• :matekialism. 207 
 
 Stahl, and Leibnitz took up in their own phraseology 
 in succession to that of more ancient philosophers.^ 
 
 The materiahst argues, and justly as to fact, that 
 the mind and its functions grow together with the 
 growth and structural changes of the body, from in- 
 fancy up to maturity — that old age brings on, though 
 less definitely as to time, the decay of both — that in 
 all stages of life the phenomena of sleep and dreams, 
 of idiocy and insanity, of dehrium and drunkenness, 
 of apoplexy and fainting, and the other various forms 
 and accidents of cerebral disorder — all show a direct 
 and indispensable relation of the brain and nervous 
 system to the intellectual and moral states of the 
 man.^ Of the fact that no material change can occur 
 in the nervous organisation without some correspond- 
 ing change in the mental functions, the proofs are end- 
 lessly furnished by the daily experience of life. Birth, 
 dating even from the foetal state — death, at whatsoever 
 age occurring — these seeming termini of our being are 
 inteUigible to us only as parts of a present necessary 
 co-existence and relation of body and mind. By no 
 efibrt or artifice of thought can we dissociate these 
 portions of our common nature, so as to feel or con- 
 ceive what we call Mind singly in itself. 
 
 The materialist finds a certain aid to his argument 
 in the strange difierences of individual minds. The 
 phrenologist may be wrong or ridiculous in his de- 
 notation of these specialties of character, intellectual or 
 
 * Germany furnishes the most explicitly avowed materialists of our 
 day, in Yirchow, Vogt, and Moleschott. 
 
 2 A few lines of Lucretius^ in his third book, put clearly all that 
 belongs to this argument. 
 
208 MATERIALISM. 
 
 moral. He may and does err in looking to the out- 
 side of the cranium as the sure interpreter of the 
 mental faculties and feelings lying underneath. But 
 the fact remains untouched that there are wonderful 
 innate diversities in all that constitutes the mental 
 being of man — diversities in the kind and degree of 
 intellect — diversities in the perfection of the senses, in 
 memory, in the elements of taste, imagination, and 
 genius — diversities not less strongly marked in those 
 propensities and passions which define our moral 
 nature. These differences are found in the highest 
 mental qualities as well as in the lowest and basest. 
 They are strikingly shown in the faculties which seem 
 to involve a certain mechanism of action, as memory, 
 the mathematical or numerical faculty, and those con- 
 nected with the fine arts, music, painting, &c. As in 
 the case of bodily resemblances, these mental idiosyn- 
 crasies are often traceable to hereditary causes ; but 
 where not obviously so, still they are innate. 
 
 The question, however, remains unanswered : Are 
 these diiferences due to different cerebral organisation? 
 Or is this organisation but the instrument to express 
 and put into action the diversities in a part of our 
 being to which no material epithet or description can 
 apply ? 
 
 And this brings another physiological fact into the 
 argument, viz., the greater development of the brain 
 in man than in any other animal, and the proportion 
 found generally to exist between the size, weight, and 
 complexity of this organ and the perfection of intelli- 
 gence and other mental endowments. That such re- 
 
MATERIALISM. 209 
 
 lations do exist, however imperfectly defined in their 
 details, is well attested by observation. It is hard in 
 such a case to accept quantity as a measure of quality^ 
 yet we must needs do so under certain conditions. 
 That there are tracts or local portions of the brain, 
 with which the convolutions are perhaps most inti- 
 mately concerned, having special connexion with dif- 
 ferent faculties of the mind, can scarcely be denied, 
 looking to the various physiological evidence for this 
 fact. Even the faculty of speecli, on the evidence 
 derived from its morbid changes, has lately been sub- 
 mitted to this interpretation. But admitting to a cer- 
 tain extent such localisation, we still are not beyond 
 the threshold of the question, whence come and in 
 what consist the endowments of thought and feeling as 
 we see them in many animals, and supremely in man ? 
 The question, then, however it be shaped, again forces 
 itself forward : Do the facts which show that unceasing 
 changes of mind are produced by material causes acting 
 through material organs prove that such organisation 
 is in itself capable of generating those wonderful 
 functions of perception, thought, feeling, and volition 
 which in their totality constitute the mind of man ? 
 
 The answer to this question I think to be that no 
 such proof is possible, and that presumption is wholly 
 against it. That we cannot give other explanation of 
 the phenomena is no argument, in a case where reason 
 and consciousness are equally unable to lend any aid. 
 Nothing that the most minute anatomy or physiology 
 have taught us can bridge over that chasm — hiatus in- 
 franchissable, Cuvier well calls it — rwhich separates 
 
 p 
 
210 MATERIALISM. 
 
 what alone we know of the properties of matter from 
 the functions we individually know and feel as the 
 qualities of mind. Eefine upon material atoms — the 
 fieyedr) aZiaipera — as you will, no step is gained in 
 advance. Bring in that organic agent, Protoplasm, 
 which some modern physiologists regard as the basis 
 of all living organisation (a compound itself of the four 
 great elements already known in connexion with the 
 phenomena of life), and we still get no farther. The 
 structure of the brain, however keenly scrutinised in 
 its medullary and cineritious substance, its convolu- 
 tions and commissures, and the intimate texture and 
 distribution of its fibres and cells, discloses nothing of 
 the real mystery. Chemistry, though subtle enough to 
 detect a minute proportion of phosphorus in all cerebral 
 matter, embodied in a curious crystallisable compound, 
 protogen, of which again another compound, neurine^ is 
 supposed to be the base, has done more to perplex 
 than enhghten by these discoveries. Nor need this 
 failure cause surprise, seeing how imperfect is our 
 knowledge even of the most conspicuous parts of the 
 structm^e of the brain ; of its douhleness as an organ, 
 of the functions of the cerebellum, &c. To memory, 
 the most mechanical perhaps of the mental acts, we 
 can assign no seat or texture in the brain. We see no 
 organisation for this vast storehouse of the past — no 
 secret place for memories latent for half a life — no 
 material links serving to associate them together, nor 
 any physical cause for their decay or obliteration in 
 old age. There has been a good deal of speculation 
 of late founded on the cerebral cellular structure, and 
 
MATERIALISM. 211 
 
 schemes have been devised assuming to explain the 
 phenomena of memory and association by these cellu- 
 lar connexions. But such hypotheses are utterly with- 
 out proof, and do not really carry us farther than the 
 hypothetical vibrations and vibratiuncles of Hartley's 
 school. It is better to avow ignorance than thus to 
 screen it. And if we cannot connect this faculty with 
 structure, far less can we conceive such connexion in 
 the case of those higher faculties of intellect and feel- 
 ing to which memory itself is but a minister. 
 
 Minute anatomy, as well as physiological experi- 
 ments, have afforded more certain results as to the 
 functions associated with the medulla oblongata, me- 
 dulla spinalis, and the nervous ganglia. But these are 
 parts either appertaining to organic life or instru- 
 mental only to the mental faculties. And here, as in 
 regard to the brain, we are wholly without knowledge 
 as to the nature of that w^onderful endowment of 
 nervous matter^ medullary or cineritious, aggregated 
 or granular, enabling it to fulfil such vast and various 
 purposes throughout every grade and form of animal 
 life. 
 
 This view of the incommensurability^ as it has been 
 called, of matter and mind, of body and soul, has been 
 held by the philosophers of every age ; always em- 
 barrassed, indeed, by terms vaguely defined, such as the 
 vovs^ V'^X'*?' ^^^ TTvevfjia of the Greek schools, and the 
 equivalent ambiguities of our own and other languages.^ 
 
 * The distinction between the voDc and ^vxn, so strongly marked in 
 the * Timseus' of Plato, is denoted even in the old Latin dramatist 
 Attius : < Sapimus animo, firuimur anima.' 
 
 p 2 
 
212 MATERIALISM. 
 
 But the questions in hand are mainly the same, and the 
 difference in deaUng with them is chiefly that created 
 by the severer methods of inductive enquiry. Abstract 
 definitions of the soul and of matter are now submitted 
 to tests which go far to exclude them from the pale of 
 science. Aristotle's expression, that ' the soul may be 
 better said to contain the body than the -body the soul,' 
 defines nothing real save the impossibility of reaching 
 the truth by that faculty of reason, the nature of which 
 is a main part of the problem to be solved. A happier 
 phrase, and somewhat nearer to the point, is that of 
 Spinoza : ' Body is not terminated by thinkingy nor 
 thinking by body.' Quotations on this subject might, 
 indeed, be endlessly multiphed from the classical writers 
 — from the later Platonists, from the mediaeval schools, 
 and from the philosophy of our own time. But in 
 their totality they prove nothing more than the absence 
 of any conception congi-uous and common to the two 
 elements concerned in the question, and the fruitless 
 toil of language to redeem this incapacity of thought. 
 I have spoken of the little that has been done by 
 scientific discovery to fiu-nish links between mind and 
 matter. In one sense, indeed, they may seem to be 
 farther dissociated by those attainments of physical 
 science which especially mark the mental capacity of 
 man. The genius and intellectual power wliich have 
 penetrated so deeply into the secrets of nature — measur- 
 ing the distance of the stars and the velocity of light — 
 predicting from the minute perturbations of one planet 
 the existence and place of another yet unknown — de- 
 tecting the presence of known terrestrial elements in 
 
MATERIALISM. 213 
 
 the photosphere of the sun and even of the fixed stars 
 — making electric wires, with a speed that mocks cal- 
 culation, the medium of human intercourse across the 
 widest oceans — these capacities, thus developed and 
 exalted in their objects, point at some spirituality of 
 nature which mere matter, in our understanding of it, 
 can never reach. That we are unable to comprehend 
 this nature, and its complex relations to the material 
 world, is but one of the many similar confessions we 
 are compelled to make when seeking to interpret the 
 mysteries around us. 
 
214 
 
 DIFFERENCES OF RELIGIOUS BELIEF. 
 
 In reasoning on this matter, whether as regards sects 
 or individuals, few advert sufficiently to an element of 
 distinction which must ever exist, and ever divide men, 
 whatever creeds they may be born under or brought 
 up in. This is the diversity of natural temperament, 
 physical, intellectual, and moral — a diversity which the 
 common experience of life is ever bringing before us. 
 We see one man of hard, unflinching, sceptical logic, 
 another vague and imaginative in his reason — one with 
 cold affections, another warm or passionate in his 
 feelings — one with keen and artistic senses, another 
 dull and unimpressionable — one with buoyant physical 
 powers, another feeble and sickly in frame. You may 
 bring these several men under the same religous creed 
 or denomination, but virtually, they are of different 
 rehgious belief, if this word belief has any substantial 
 meaning at all. 
 
 And what is true as to individuals is true also, 
 though more generally, as to the conditions under 
 which sects and churches are formed. Certain tempera- 
 ments tend to coalesce in certain modes of belief or 
 outward worship ; the founders of which rehgious 
 bodies are usually men strongly marked by correspond- 
 ing individualities of character. Luther, Calvin, Loyola, 
 
DIFFERENCES OF RELIGIOUS BELIEF. 215 
 
 Knox, George Fox, Wesley, &c. are a few among the 
 many instances in point. 
 
 The recent movement in the AngHcan Church, 
 seeking to restore that clerical supremacy and cere- 
 monial for which Laud was ready to imperil both 
 Church and State, well illustrates what I have just 
 stated. This movement, apart from mere curiosity or 
 love of change, has segregated to itself a class of tem- 
 peraments, of both sexes, 'prone to all innovations 
 exciting or soothing the senses ; and prone, as ex- 
 perience has shown, to press yet farther in the same 
 direction. Calvinism also has its specialties of thought 
 and feeling, though the moods of character are perhaps 
 less strongly marked. But even these incongruities of 
 temperament have certain links which bring them near 
 together in the complex network of human existence. 
 
 Going back to the Apostohc age, we find an 
 individuality /)f rehgious thought and feeling, seve- 
 rally, in Peter, Paul, John, and James, attested alike 
 by their alleged writings and the actions recorded of 
 them. In the contemporary Jewish history, again, we 
 discern, through their several tenets and usages, a 
 similar disparity of mind in the sects of the Pharisees, 
 Sadducees, and Essenes — differences existing in Jewish 
 communities even to the present day. And applying 
 this view more broadly to the various races and 
 rehgions of different ages of the world, we find the 
 same result of sects and superstitions based on the 
 diversities of human temperament. The more tolerant 
 polytheism of Greece and Eome yields least in illustra- 
 tion. But all the religions of the East (including the 
 
216 differe:sces of religious belief. 
 
 Mahometan and the Parsee remnant of the religion of 
 Zoroaster), and the Cathohcism of mediaival and all 
 later times, exhibit these diverse colourings of human 
 character, not in individuals merely, but in those 
 divisions and hostile sects which every religion is prone 
 to engender v^ithin itself In every age and country, 
 under one shape or other, we find the same innate 
 diversities of temperament which lead to this result — 
 the enthusiastic and credulous, the philosophical and 
 sceptical, the formal and ceremonial, the austere and 
 ascetic. Fames multiply and are ever changing, but 
 the essential character of human nature continues the 
 same, however disguised in outward lineaments. Eeli- 
 gious distinctions, indeed, are often mere matter of 
 inheritance from one generation to another, in nations 
 as well as in families. But causes are at work beyond 
 this ; and the gorgeous ceremonials of the Eoman 
 Church, in contrast to the austere worship of Puritans 
 and Quakers, represents a distinction deeply graven in 
 the map of human life. 
 
 When Cardinal Eetz described his own tempera- 
 ment as ' le moins ecclesiastique que fut dans Tunivers,' 
 he well denoted his peculiar idiosyncrasy. When Sir 
 Isaac Newton, a man of very different stamp, said to 
 Leclerc, 'In disputable passages of Scripture I love to 
 take up with that which I can best understand,' he 
 aptly depictures the love of fact and truth deeply innate 
 in his own mind. Such diversities, among lesser men 
 than these, are matter of the most common observation, 
 though not always duly estimated in their bearings 
 upon life, and especially in the connexion they establish 
 
DIFFERENCES OF RELIGIOUS BELIEF. 217 
 
 between natural temperament and the religious attach- 
 ments of the man. Professional experience, especially 
 diuring the last twenty years, has strikingly illustrated 
 this to my own knowledge, and often by cases forming 
 in themselves a little romance of struggles between 
 native temperament and the conditions of life pressing 
 harshly upon it. History and biography abound in 
 curious and painful examples to the same effect. 
 
 In discussing the subject of religious belief it must 
 ever be kept in mind how vague and changeable in 
 meaning this word belief is ; a phantom without sub- 
 stance to the world at large ; and even with those who 
 bring thought and feeling to the subject, only to be 
 interpreted by the individual character of each. This 
 may seem a harsh judgment on a word of popular and 
 needful use, but it will be justified to anyone who 
 cares to examine its actual application in the case 
 before us.^ 
 
 Admitting these various premises, one conclusion 
 to be drawn from them is, that all creeds, to form 
 truly and effectively a basis and bond of religious 
 unity, should be large and lenient in their scope, 
 simple and humble in their phraseology. It is a hard 
 thing, and worse than useless, to subject the con- 
 sciences of men now living to the dogmas of Councils 
 assembled in dark ages, and dishonouring even those 
 ages by their bigoted and violent conflicts. Hilar}^ 
 living and acting himself amidst Councils and creeds, 
 
 ^ Neander, in his treatise ' Das eine und mannigfaltige des Christ- 
 lichen Lebens,' dwells much on the adaptations of Christianity to the 
 idiosyncrasies of men. 
 
218 DIFFERENCES OF RELIGIOUS BELIEF. 
 
 strikingly depictures the hatreds and follies in which 
 they originated. We may well join with Milton's 
 remonstrance against ' crowding free consciences and 
 Christian liberties into canons and precepts of men.' 
 It is another question whether Churches, as such, can 
 be held together without some formularies as a rule 
 and test of unity. But this question should never be 
 handled save under recollection ot the changes time is 
 continually working in the world, and especially in our 
 own day. It is fitting that forms of subscription, the 
 imposition of other ages, should be removed or 
 lightened by reason, rather than forcibly annulled by 
 reason's revolt. 
 
219 
 
 SCEPTICISM AND CREDULITY. 
 
 Bentley says, ' Commend me to an argument that, 
 like a flail, there's no defence against it.' But such 
 arguments are rarely to be found, even in physical 
 science, far less in that moral and metaphysical world 
 in which it is a part of our destiny to live and exercise 
 thought. 
 
 In another of these papers I allude to the various 
 and vast disparity of the reasoning power in different 
 minds — a fact, like many others, too famihar to be 
 seen in all its import. There is a logic, or want of 
 logic, peculiar to every mind. The perception of 
 truth, and the mode of arriving at conclusions upon 
 evidence, are curiously different in different men. Some 
 men are the ready slaves of dogmas, vague hypotheses, 
 or frauds upon the senses under the garb of science. 
 Others carry the shield of scepticism ever before them, 
 sometimes so closely as to exclude all sight of what is 
 beyond. The moral and intellectual temperament are 
 both concerned in this diversity, which shows itself in 
 religion, politics, art, literature, and every matter of 
 social life. 
 
 Not merely individuals but races and ages of men 
 exhibit such dissimilarities. When Biot says, speaking 
 
220 SCEPTICISM AND CREDULITY. 
 
 of the time of Galileo, 'a cette epoque la doute n'etait 
 pas iiiventee,' he is asserting what is a general truth as 
 regards both the ancient and the scholastic philosophy. 
 The subjective methods of thought (to use a German 
 neology) dominated in these ages over the objective. 
 Truth was sought for not by experimental proof, but 
 by abstract reasoning and logical formularies. In our 
 days, owing mainly to the methods and successes of 
 physical science, the demand for proof is ever becom- 
 ing more absolute in all departments of human enquiry, 
 and an enlarged scepticism in this sense is lawful and 
 well justified by its results. 
 
 Questions, however, there are and will ever remain 
 in which the highest attainment of human reason can 
 be that of presumption only, and such questions are 
 those which best try the minds of different men in their 
 dealings with doubt. Our lot is cast among things 
 certain and things uncertain or unknown; the latter 
 more numerous where the senses fail us and thought is 
 occupied with objects unseen, or with those invisible 
 powers that cause the things we see. Here the approach 
 to truth is often through tortuous paths, along which 
 none but clear and strong intellects can find their way, 
 or rightly discover where this way is closed by obstacles 
 which human reason cannot surmount. Those so gifted 
 are alone able, while well defining the objects sought 
 for, to shun the many pitfalls which the placita philo- 
 sophoiixm, the seduction of hypothesis, and the shiftings 
 and artifices of language put in their path. The right 
 balancing of presumptive evidence is the highest form 
 of natural logic. The reception and right use of the 
 
SCEPTICISM AND CREDULITY. 221 
 
 results so obtained is the highest function of human 
 reason. 
 
 Eecognising physical science as that portion of our 
 knowledge which has done most to quicken and define 
 all that relates to the evidence of truth, it may be well 
 to remark that as the circle of such knowledge enlarges 
 the circle of doubt enlarges also. A single new fact 
 discovered may beget ten questions unseen before, and 
 equally requiring solution. Science abounds in such 
 instances. What Newton terms ' the ocean of undis- 
 covered truth ' spreads out more widely before us as we 
 advance upon it — darkness, or faint gleams of light 
 only, upon its horizon. Some men stand doubtingly on 
 the shore, or embark with a spirit too timid for disco- 
 very ; others adventure suddenly and rashly on this 
 unknown sea ; a few, by some happy intuition or acci- 
 dent, find what may be called a ' North-West Passage ' 
 to the truth sought for ; but it is usually reached only 
 by assiduous labour, and the fortunate conjunction of 
 zeal with a rational scepticism. 
 
 Natural temperament, in fact, is the ruling power 
 in the intellectual as in the moral world ; and its diver- 
 sities in different men can alone expound the anomalies 
 we every day see in the antagonistic habits of scep- 
 ticism and credulity. Those of credulity are doubtless 
 the more remarkable in our age, as in every antecedent 
 time, and form a curious chapter in the mental history 
 of man — a chapter saddening in some of its aspects, 
 but in others relieved by its kindred with that poetic 
 faculty appertaining to man alone. Creduhty changes 
 its forms and objects in each successive age, but as a 
 
222 SCEPTICISM AND CREDULITY. 
 
 mental quality it is ever, the same, and ever preyed 
 upon by similar arts and impostures. In our own age 
 the grim romance of the ghost-story has been succeeded 
 by the coarser follies of spirit-rapping, table-turning, 
 &c., all fastening upon that particular temperament 
 among mankind which is ever ready to accept belief 
 without weighing the evidence for it — even more ready, 
 it might seem, where the things propounded are most 
 incredible. The sense implied in the phrase, ' Credo 
 quia impossibile est,' must not be confined to doctrinal 
 divinity alone. 
 
 The sobriety and hard logic of the sceptical tem- 
 perament come in natural correction of the feebleness 
 or intemperance of credulity ; and in some sort indeed 
 they are mutually corrective, and knowledge gains 
 from the conflict. For scepticism itself is sometimes 
 largely in excess, and becomes a hindrance to minds 
 otherwise powerful in seeking for truth. Dr. WoUas- 
 ton, whom I well knew, was a striking instance of this. 
 With high intellectual powers, with leisure and other 
 appliances at command, he shut himself out from great 
 discoveries at a period fertile of such by a morbid 
 demand for certainty at every step of progress. The 
 story connected with his discovery of palladium is w^ell 
 known. His was a mind that would never give to 
 probabilities or hypotheses their due weight in scien- 
 tific enquiry. The record we have of D'Alembert, in 
 his fife and writings, furnishes another striking example 
 of this sceptical temperament. Devoted to mathe- 
 matical proof, he could discern nothing of truth or 
 reality, beyond or outside, unless through demonstra- 
 
SCEPTICISM AND CREDULITY. 223 
 
 tion so obtained. He seems to have ignored the fact 
 that probability is, after all, the great and necessary 
 guide in every part of human hfe. The scepticism of 
 Bayle was of a different kind ; but there was fitness in 
 the epithet he apphed to himself of ve^eXyjyepeTa 
 Zeus, from his habit of gathering doubts around every 
 topic he touched. 
 
 Other instances might be quoted, but as regards 
 the question of excess they still leave the balance large 
 on the side of credulity. No one can better affirm this 
 than the physician of long and various experience. In 
 my volume of 'Medical Notes and Eeflections,' first 
 pubhshed twenty- six years ago, there is a chapter on 
 ' Medical Evidence,' in which, while admitting the in- 
 herent difficulties of the subject, I found occasion to 
 comment on the curious credulity of the world in all 
 that regards the nature and treatment of disease, and 
 the injurious reflex action which this often exercises 
 upon the minds of physicians themselves. Though I 
 had much reason to be satisfied with the success of this 
 work, I heard from several quarters the remark upon 
 it that I raised more questions than I solved. And 
 the comment was a just one. Mental temperament on 
 my own part had doubtless some influence in this ; but 
 the cause was chiefly to be found in the actual state of 
 medical knowledge, still far below the conditions of an 
 exact science, its evidences singularly complex in kind, 
 and fettered by numerous prejudices and antiquated 
 precepts, a hindrance to truth and the source of error 
 and various evils in practice. 
 
 The sceptical temperament as applied to religion is 
 
224 SCEPTICISM AND CREDULITY. 
 
 a topic by itself, yet seen here also under the same 
 antagonism to credulity as in other less momentous 
 concerns of human life. The diversity of human creeds 
 as regards Revelation, and the utter inability of human 
 reason to comprehend the great mysteries of creation 
 and the Creator save under the simple aspects of de- 
 sign and power, may well explain the common direc- 
 tion of the sceptical mind to these points. But that 
 mind must be shallow in reason which refuses belief to 
 all it cannot understand, and rejects the notion of God 
 and Providential design, because it cannot measure the 
 greatness of the universe, or interpret the seeming 
 anomalies and evils affecting the little world on which 
 man has his being. The scepticism of the atheist, 
 strictly so called, halts at its first step ; and his theory, 
 if he has one, can only be expressed in terms as diffi- 
 cult to comprehend as are the facts which he seeks to 
 subvert. 
 
225 
 
 INSANITY. 
 
 The many definitions of Insanity are the best proof 
 of the httle of practical vakie which has been gained 
 from the attempt. If broad in principle, they are lost 
 in particular applications. If resting on individualities, 
 these. are so numerous that definitions can neither com- 
 pass nor connect them. There are as many varieties 
 of insanity as of human character, as many forms and 
 degrees of disordered mind as of the intellectual and 
 moral qualities in their sane, state. The transitions 
 from sanity to insanity, and the changes incident to the 
 latter, are endlessly varied, yet even here we can gene- 
 rally recognise that law of continuity which so largely 
 prevails in the world around us.^ 
 
 The medical man who comes into a witness-box 
 with a formal definition of madness is generally tor- 
 tured into contradictions or doubts. In some legal 
 cases of this kind, beset with grave difficulties, it might 
 be better if the medical examination could be taken 
 out of open court. A clever barrister, however igno- 
 rant himself, may readily put questions perplexing to 
 the most upright and experienced physician. The 
 
 * A recent classification of the forms of insanity, by Ludesdorf of 
 Vienna, into aberrations by exaltation, by depression, and from weakness, 
 may be considered among the best, simply because the least definite in 
 details. 
 
226 INSANITY. 
 
 subject is one so beset with metaphysical and verbal 
 subtleties, that it is hard to find firm ground to stand 
 upon ; and the only suggestion which can be offered is 
 that of eschewing all formal definitions, and connecting 
 the question of sanity or insanity in each particular 
 case, as far as possible, with some specific practical 
 test. 
 
 But, deal with the matter as we will, the difficulties 
 are great, and explain, if they do not vindicate, the 
 frequent contradictions noted in medical evidence upon 
 insanity. The intellectual character of the witness 
 himself becomes an element in the question. Aberra- 
 tions of mind — such especially as arise from excess or 
 deficiency of natural faculties and feelings — are dif- 
 ferently seen and construed by different men, according 
 to their own temperament and several capacities for 
 observation. My experience furnishes me with many 
 examples to this effect. 
 
 One of the best as well as simplest tests of insanity 
 is the inversion of some distinct habit of feeling or 
 action, strikingly marked in the previous character of 
 the individual ; the more sudden and complete this in- 
 version^ the stronger the evidence of unsound mind. 
 Such proof can only occasionally be had, since insanity 
 shows itself more frequently as an excess or distortion 
 of some wonted habit or feeling. But enquiry should 
 always be directed to this point. 
 
 A question which in one form or other has hung 
 over any theory of insanity is its relation to the cere- 
 bral organisation. One opinion attributes all devia- 
 tions from what we call reason to changes in the 
 
INSANITY. 227 
 
 brain — the cerveau vialade; and others, as Leuret, 
 recently, place the disorder in the spiritual intelli- 
 gence itself. This is virtually the old question of 
 materialism put into a more special form. The phe- 
 nomena of dreaming, delirium, and drunkenness, as 
 well as the moods of insanity itself, and their tendency 
 to become hereditary, are brought in sanction of the 
 former view. Its frequent occurrence in the most 
 marked forms, without detection of the slightest organic 
 disease of the brain, furnishes argument for the latter, 
 but an argument ever subject to the exception that 
 disease may really exist in textures to which neither 
 eye nor microscope give us access. 
 
 The relation of dreaming to insanity has been dwelt 
 upon from the time of Cicero downwards. The dis- 
 tinction lies in this, that dreams are for the most part 
 an incongruous mimicry, while the senses are closed, 
 of waking sensations, thoughts, and events — incon- 
 gruous as to time, place, and connexion ; madness is 
 a persistent adherence (not corrected by the outward 
 senses, though these are awake) of images, thoughts, or 
 feelings, devoid of what may be called reality, and 
 begetting actions equally incongruous. As a definition 
 this is as incomplete as others, but it serves to distin- 
 guish between the wandering and transient dream, 
 made up of fitful memories, when the senses are more 
 or less closed, and the fixed delusions of insanity, often 
 contradicting the evidence of the senses, and all the 
 acts and impulses of antecedent life. 
 
 I have visited lunatic asylums in most parts of 
 Europe, and many in America, without any abatement 
 
228 INSANITY. 
 
 of the profound and painful interest belonging to such' 
 inspections. The statistics of insanity, deal with them 
 as we may, are a mournful and mysterious page in the 
 moral history of man. I fear it must be admitted that 
 what we call civilisation^ especially that of crowded 
 communities, tends to aggravate this condition of 
 luanan suffering, and from causes readily understood. 
 Enquirj^ expressly made, has everywhere told me the 
 same tale, that religion, love, anxieties of business, and 
 intemperance are chief among the direct causes of 
 insanity in the world. Add to these hereditary ten- 
 dency, whencesover originally derived, and we see but 
 too well how these mental maladies have embodied 
 themselves in the social state of man, even under the 
 highest intellectual cultivation. 
 
229 
 
 HISTORY. 
 
 Gibbon describes History as 'little more than the 
 register of the crimes, follies, and vices of mankind,* 
 and recording, as he does, the history of twelve dark 
 centuries, he might well arrive at this conclusion. But 
 its truth is not limited to any particular period or por- 
 tion of the inhabited world. Take a century from any 
 recorded time, of any country or race of men — from 
 the Egyptian, Jewish, Assyrian, Greek or Eoman history, 
 from the dark ages, middle ages, or the last 100 years 
 of our own age — it is everywhere the same continuous 
 relation of wars, of national or personal struggles for 
 territory or political power. Sydney Smith, with his 
 w^onted force of familiar illustration, calculates that 
 since the Peace of Utrecht thirty-five minutes out of 
 every hour have been passed in war. I have myself 
 made a rude reckoning on the subject, drawn from the 
 ])rinted pages both of ancient and modem history — 
 from the Greek, Latin, and Byzantine historians, as 
 well as those of England, France, Italy, and Germany, 
 in later times. The result is somewhat varied by the 
 temper and style of the particular historian ; but taking 
 an average of the whole, it shows that two-thirds of 
 the world's written history during 2,500 years, under 
 every form of government, religion, and civilisation, is 
 
230 HISTORY. 
 
 a narrative of warfare, or its inevitable adjuncts — the 
 fidxat fivpLoveKpoL of all nations of men. The gates of 
 Janus, at Eome, were closed but three times during 
 700 years. The accounts we have of savage life, even 
 in the smallest and most remote isles of the ocean, all 
 tell the same tale of strife and bloodshed. 
 
 Look, again, at the large proportion of European 
 history of which courts, sovereigns, ministers, pohtical 
 intrigues and diplomacy make up the engrossing or 
 sole material. It is true that the record here is of 
 those whose acts and fortunes have had largest in- 
 fluence on the world. But what a mass of mankind 
 is left unnoticed and unknown beneath the stage on 
 which these higher actors play their parts in the world's 
 drama ! ^ They have led armies and migrations of men 
 from region to region; have founded or destroyed 
 empires ; have framed governments and laws, and abol- 
 ished them ; have attained eminence either by virtue 
 or by crime. Yet underneath all these things lies the 
 history of nine-tenths of the human race — untold, or 
 told only by casual and scanty notices. Generations of 
 this multitude successively pass away without leaving a 
 mark behind. As an old writer says, ' The greater 
 part of the world must be content to be as though it 
 had never been.' 
 
 Even in the countries fondly called civihsed how 
 often are we surprised and shocked by casually disen- 
 
 * Goethe comments justly on this partial colouring of history: — 
 ^ Was hier den Geist der Zeiten heisst, 
 Das ist im Grund der Herren eignen Geist, 
 In dem die Zeiten sich bespiegeln.' 
 
HISTORY. 231 
 
 tombing a part of the community coming closely to 
 savage life in their ignorance, habits, and vices — these 
 characters veiled over, but not extinguished by proxi- 
 mity to higher grades of cultivation. Which is the nation 
 so far advanced as not to furnish examples of these 
 strange contiguous diversities — the inevitable result of 
 crowded population, and of that ' labour to live' which 
 is the necessary lot of so large a part of mankind ? The 
 Mob of every age and country — a unity in itself — tells 
 the tale of that vast substratum of human life of which 
 civilisation, w^hen it exists at all, is but the surface 
 and the colouring. Take the approximate number of 
 1,000 miUions as peopling the earth. Give to civilised 
 life its just definition and demarcation, and see how 
 small is the proportion of this mass of human existence 
 which can be brought under the title ! A numerical 
 estimate must needs be very vague in this case, yet we 
 can scarcely err in rating it at less than a fiftieth part 
 of the whole. All that lies outside this narrow limit 
 is httle regarded by the ordinary historian, even where 
 materials exist for his use. 
 
 Macaulay, in one of the first paragraphs of his great 
 work, strongly points out the baldness and imperfection 
 of history, thus confined to the affairs of courts and 
 camps. His third chapter well exemphfies what he 
 himself could do in correction of this common defi- 
 ciency. Gibbon held the same views ; but his History 
 embraced too long a time and too wide a space for its 
 fair application. The historians of our own day, fore- 
 stalled as to larger themes, work much upon detached 
 periods of time, and with greater profusion of details. 
 
232 HISTORY. 
 
 The demand now made for minuteness in these details 
 has a sort of parity with the requisitions of modern 
 science as regards chemical analysis. Still, what we 
 gain from this minute research is generally little more 
 than an amphfied narrative of war, diplomacy, and 
 court or party intrigue ; witness the volumes of Mr. 
 Fronde, on the reign of Elizabeth (now lying before 
 me), fed with papers from that great depot at Simancas 
 which has furnished so much towards the history of the 
 sixteenth century. Curiosity has of late been variously 
 pampered by documents drawn from secret and unex- 
 pected sources. There is a certain danger belonging to 
 these in the undue importance they often assume to the 
 historian who himself discovers and uses them. There 
 are few writers who can wholly resist this seduction. 
 
 In some relations to these tendencies of the his- 
 torians of our day comes the fashion — sometimes 
 justified, oftener not so — of upsetting old opinions as 
 to persons and historical events. Two-thirds of the 
 early Eoman have been swept away by the merciless 
 criticism of Niebuhr, Lewes, and Mommsen, without 
 due regard to the fact that a simple town could not 
 have become the germ of an empire without some such 
 course of events as those which stand recorded to us. 
 A spirit of paradox has gone much farther as regards 
 the character of historical personages. The crimes of 
 Eoman emperors have had their apologists, and Eichard 
 III. and Henry VIII. have been held up as martyrs to 
 faulty interpretation of their acts. All history is open 
 to correction, but it ought to be sedulously guarded 
 against these paradoxes and personal partialities. 
 
HISTORY. 233 
 
 One formula of history, not wholly new, indeed, 
 nor without its recommendations, has recently become 
 common in this country. It is, in fact, history carried 
 on by a series of biographies of persons who have suc- 
 cessively filled some eminent place in public affairs, 
 archbishops, chancellors, chief justices, &c. Such 
 scheme of narrative, impartially conducted, has the 
 advantage always derived from continuity in the main 
 object, while collaterally including the various rela- 
 tions of each such series to the other elements of 
 national government. There is danger, doubtless, lest 
 this method be carried too far, and lead to unimportant 
 biographies written by inferior hands. The saying of Sir 
 Thomas Browne, ' There goes a great deal of conscience 
 to the writing of a history,' applies especially to cases 
 where biography forms the substratum of what is 
 written. But it has fitting application also to his- 
 torians at large. Honesty of general purpose and 
 honesty in details are not less essential than the faculty 
 of judgment as to the evidence of facts. Cicero de- 
 notes as the prima lex of history, ' ne quid falsa dicere 
 audeat, ne quid veri non audeat.' 
 
 To recur to history in its more general sense. 
 When we speak of the history of the world, how few con- 
 sider the wide gaps in this great story — the vast periods 
 of time shrouded in impenetrable darkness ! These 
 periods are not solely such as come before all certain 
 record, but those also which often interpose and blend 
 themselves with recognised history. A single century 
 may be rich in its record of men and events in a 
 country where succeeding centuries have passed away 
 
234 HISTORY. 
 
 leaving little or no mark behind. Omitting the eailier 
 marvel of the Homeric poems, less than two centuries 
 comprised all the grandeur of Grecian intellect. The 
 art of Gibbon has compressed into a single sentence — 
 one that must have been music to his own ear— the 
 almost contemporaneous names of all the greatest philo- 
 sophers, poets, statesmen, and orators of Athens. The 
 political life of this wonderful city at the same period 
 has been ably pictured to us in the great work of Mr. 
 Grote. But there is some reason for thinking with 
 Sallust that the Athenian history has gained undue 
 prominence from the great names and elegant writers 
 by whom it has been transmitted to other countries 
 and ages.^ And in any case how small a spot is 
 Greece in the map of the peopled world, and how 
 short this illustrious period compared with the twenty 
 centuries following of servitude and decay ! 
 
 There are few persons, indeed, who rightly appre- 
 ciate the element of time in its relation to historical 
 events. Historians themselves, either from necessity 
 or neglect, have contributed much to this defective 
 view. Eecurring to Gibbon for an example, we find 
 him including in a single chapter between 500 and 
 600 years of Byzantine history following the death of 
 Heraclius. The wonderfid art of the writer gives it 
 the aspect of continuous history, yet how small the in- 
 sight obtained into the real condition of this empire 
 and of the whole Eoman world during a period as 
 
 1 When two scholars eminent as are Mr. Grote and Professor Jowett 
 differ so far in their understanding of the familiar term of Sophists, we 
 may well appreciate the difficulties of a right comprehension. 
 
HISTORY. 28S 
 
 long as that from Edward I. to our own time ! In our 
 Scriptures the single Book of Judges gives the history 
 of the Jews for upwards of three centuries ; while of the 
 forty years passed by the same people in the Desert, 
 under conditions difficult to be understood, thirty-eight 
 years are recorded in a few verses only. Such distances 
 are numerous, as are also those strange gaps, either 
 utterly void or filled with fables alone, which some- 
 times occur between two periods of authentic history. 
 In the early British history, for example, 'an age of fable 
 completely separates two ages of truth.' So also in 
 that of Germany. However it may be with the 
 laborious and learned readers of that country, how 
 little do we in England know of its history succeeding 
 the disruption of the Eoman Empire and the era of 
 Charlemagne, while the wars of the Guelfs and Ghibel- 
 lines, in Italy, are the meagre but chief exponents to us 
 of the great Teutonic people at a period still later. 
 Or, recurring once more to the Jewish history, how 
 little is familiarly known of that long period between 
 the later records of the Old Testament and those of 
 the New, though during that period there grew out 
 of the wars of the Maccabees and other events those 
 sects and usages of the Jewish people — notably of the 
 Pharisees and Sadducees — which form such important 
 elements in the Gospel narratives. 
 
 To gain something like a just estimate of historical 
 time it has been my frequent practice to take some 
 well-known period — say, one, two, or three centuries of 
 recent English history — and place them in relation to 
 the same length of time in the history of other ages in 
 
236 HISTORY. 
 
 other countries ; as, for instance, to bring together the 
 three centuries of undisturbed Eoman power in Britain, 
 and the equal period from the accession of Ehzabeth 
 to the present day. This method, simple as it is, 
 suffices to correct many erroneous impressions, and to 
 explain various seeming anomalies in the history of 
 mankind. History can never be rightly studied with- 
 out the aid of these comparisons or parallelisms of 
 time. 
 
 After all, we must be content to take this word 
 History as a general term, denoting insulated and im- 
 perfect records of portions of mankind, in certain 
 countries and during certain periods — lost, moreover, 
 in utter darkness when seeking to go backwards to the 
 first presence of man on the earth. The fossil history 
 of lower forms of animal life, at periods far anterior in 
 the depth of time, is better known to us than are the 
 first ages of the human race. The question as to the 
 antiquity of man has, indeed, passed from the historian 
 to the geologist, whose researches, though not attain- 
 ing actual numerical results, do yet indicate rela- 
 tive dates, and a point of time more remote than any 
 other record or tradition we possess. 
 
 Mr. Buckle in his recent works has sought to give 
 to history the character of a science. His project was 
 too ambitious, and came to an end even before the 
 scaffolding of the edifice was completed. The condi- 
 tions pf a science are in truth wholly wanting ; while 
 as a branch of positive philosophy, in the system of M. 
 Comte, the claim of history is little better assured. 
 But regarded simply as a portion of human know- 
 
HISTORY. 237 
 
 ledge, it doubtless admits of being enlarged and 
 vivified by being made a more complete portraiture of 
 the millions ruled, as well as of the ruling few, who 
 leave their impress on each successive age. 
 
 In relation to this latter point much may be 
 looked for in England from those multitudinous State 
 records which, entombed hitherto in various dusty re- 
 positories, have recently been collected, catalogued, 
 and rendered easy of access by the judicious energy 
 of the present Master of the Eolls. Though devoted 
 largely to the objects I have named as the main ma- 
 terial of all history, they collaterally afford much 
 illustration of the social state of the country at differ- 
 ent periods. For the period in which we are now 
 living, enriched even to incumbrance by the produc- 
 tions of the press, the future historian of England will 
 find his chief embarrassment in the multiplicity of 
 materials before him. His office will be, not so much 
 to seek for facts as to sift and condense them — a 
 remark applying to all future European history, as 
 well as to that of the new world in the West. 
 
V.,r: 238 
 
 SHAKESPEARE. 
 
 Everyone who rightly cherishes and studies Shake- 
 speare becomes more or less a commentator upon him. 
 So vast is his variety that among the creations of his 
 genius every man may find some counterpart to him- 
 self and his own moods of mind. Every taste and 
 temper is met and satisfied with something that is done 
 better than it was ever done before or since. 
 
 I put down here a few scattered comments ; none 
 perhaps new, but some of them not occurring to my 
 recollection elsewhere. 
 
 Every good English writer knows the efficiency 
 of monosyllables. Shakespeare manifestly appreciated 
 their force and value. Frequent instances occur of 
 three or four lines wholly thus composed. In one 
 passage ( ' Eichard 11.,' act iv. scene 1) seven lines 
 come consecutively with only one dissyllabic word. 
 
 I have often tried, but never could discover any 
 principle determining Shakespeare in his use of 
 rhymed verses, and admixture of them with prose, 
 save in those cases where a rhyme at the close of a 
 scene or long speech is brought in to give force and 
 point to the conclusion. In other cases it would seem 
 simply as if he indulged in that careless abandonment 
 to his genius so peculiar to the man — one rhyme, 
 
SHAKESPEARE. 239 
 
 even as a mere play upon words, carrying him on to 
 others. 
 
 The same question, and perhaps the same conclu- 
 sion, may be applied to those frequent changes from 
 prose to verse and verse to prose, even in the same scene 
 and with the same persons on the stage, which, though 
 often connected with the relative dignity of the persons 
 and subjects handled, yet in many other cases can be 
 referred only to that free and copious licence which he 
 ever gave to the inspiration or even whim of the 
 moment. He may be said — and it can equally be said 
 of none other — to have written without fear of criti- 
 cism and without eagerness for fame. 
 
 Almost it may be cited as a proof of his genius that 
 he could afford to be so inveterate a player with the 
 sound and double sense of words. Dr. Johnson, to 
 give pith to one of his own phrases, describes the love 
 of Shakespeare for a quibble as 'the fatal Cleopatra 
 for which he lost the world, and was content to lose it.' 
 The world he did not lose, but he carried so far this 
 current foible of the age as to show that it was a fashion 
 of speech in which his mind revelled. He dehghts, too, 
 in spinning out a sort of verbal logic, of which the long 
 speech of Pandulph, in 'King John' (act iii. scene 1), 
 is a striking example. Words flowed upon him so 
 exuberantly that they became playthings in his hands. 
 
 In Sheridan's play the slipslop blunders of Mrs. 
 Malaprop, like her name, are felt to be got up by the 
 art of the writer. The wit of Shakespeare in this way 
 has the higher art of concealing art. Every blunder of 
 Dogberry, Elbow, Launcelot, &c. has an appropriate 
 
240 SHAKESPEARE. 
 
 drollery of its own, apart from mere play upon words; 
 something difRcult to define, but which is felt to be 
 ' exquisite fooling.' 
 
 No single instance of Shakespeare's power is more 
 striking than the two scenes in which Portia and Lady 
 Percy, Brutus and Hotspur, are presented in such mar- 
 vellous contrast, under circumstances exactly alike even 
 to the turbid dreams telling of conspiracies at hand. 
 Let the two scenes be read simply with reference to 
 this contrast, and the power will be seen of that genius 
 which could mould into forms of speech, so exquisitely 
 appropriate to each, diversities of character thus 
 strongly marked. Compare the solemn tenderness of 
 Portia's appeal to her husband with the playful but as 
 tender vivacity of Lady Percy. Put into contrast that 
 touching speech of Brutus, won to the disclosure of 
 his secret — 
 
 You are my true and honourable wife, 
 As dear to me as are those ruddy drops 
 That visit my sad heart — 
 
 with the manner in which Percy intercepts and throws 
 aside his wife's lighter appeal. The sequel of the 
 latter scene none but Shakespeare could have written. 
 
 Two other things occur to me in the plays just 
 named, one of which I have not seen noticed, the 
 other not satisfactorily explained. Falstaff, brimming 
 over with wit and fun for those who could imderstand 
 him, or for his own entertainment when alone, drops 
 the mood altogether when Shallow and Silence are his 
 sole company. His jokes on the recruits are for his 
 own enjoyment. He reserves the inanities of Justice 
 
SHAKESPEARE. 241 
 
 Shallow for the future laughter of the Prince and 
 Poins. An inferior artist to Shakespeare would not 
 have exercised this nice discrimination. 
 
 What I have never heard well explained in the 
 play of ' Julius Caesar ' is the direct denial by Brutus 
 to Messala, the messenger from Eome, of his having 
 heard anything of Portia, when immediately before, in 
 excuse for his angry mood, he had related to Cassius 
 the fact and manner of her death. It is hardly pos- 
 sible to ascribe this to inadvertence. But what, then, 
 is the explanation of it ? 
 
 Gray says of Shakespeare, 'He had, I beheve, 
 several souls to his own share ; ' and Coleridge some- 
 where calls him fxvpLavovs. The phrase is a happy 
 one, for there is nothing more wonderful than his 
 superiority to all others in . so many and such diverse 
 kinds of excellence. 
 
 One of the very few wagers I ever laid was with 
 Lord Nugent (a consummate Shakespearian scholar) 
 upon his assertion that there was not a single passage 
 in Shakespeare commending, directly or indirectly, the 
 moral qualities of the dog. I thought this so unlikely 
 that I took the wager, a year being freely given for 
 its settlement. Though aided by others, I could find 
 no such passage or phrase, and I paid the money, mar- 
 velling that such should be the issue of the wager. 
 
 Of the conjectures as to Sliakespeare's religious 
 opinions none that I have seen are very satisfactory. 
 They have chiefly regarded the question of his leaning 
 to the Eomish or the Eeformed Church. He lived in 
 times disturbed and heated by this great change. He 
 
 B 
 
242 SHAKESPEARE. 
 
 knew also something of the sects growing up under- 
 neath the Eeformed Church, and his writings show 
 that he was intimately versed in the history and 
 phraseology of the Bible. That he has touched so 
 slightly on any topic of religious doctrine or contro- 
 versy, while making his characters the utterance of 
 such deep thought on all other human affairs, goes far 
 to prove his intended avoidance of the subject. If the 
 passage in his will be taken into evidence, it seems to 
 express the belief of a Protestant Christian. 
 
 Are we to grieve, or not, that so little is known of 
 the hfe of Shakespeare ? As in the case of Homer, is 
 there not something which feeds the fancy in the 
 mystery surrounding him ? Yet we might well desire 
 to know what were the characters of childhood and 
 youth in such a man ? when, and in what way, his 
 genius broke forth ? under what impulse and methods 
 he composed those works which have given him 
 immortahty? The Sonnets have been diligently 
 searched for his personal history, but tliey have rather 
 thickened than dispelled the cloud which hangs over 
 it. Except the signature to his will we have not a 
 word of his writing. He indicates his own individu- 
 ality less than any of those whom we reckon the great 
 writers of the world ; certainly than any of later ages. 
 The few passages alluding to him by contemporary 
 writers serve little more than to whet curiosity. His 
 portraits are of doubtful reality ; and, whether willing 
 or not, we must submit to the behef that what we 
 know of Shakespeare is all that will ever be known. 
 
 The veneration for Shakespeare has certainly much 
 
SHAKESPEARE. 243 
 
 augmented within my own memory — a testimony in 
 itself to the growing culture of the age. Putting aside 
 theatrical representation, there is a deeper and more 
 critical study of all that he has written, great labour 
 given to the corrections of the text, a higher appre- 
 ciation of his various powers, and eagerness after every 
 fact that can illustrate in any way the individuality of 
 the man. For something of all this we are ourselves 
 indebted to German writers, Goethe, Schlegel, Tieck, 
 &c., some of whom have pushed their critical analysis 
 beyond any probable conceptions of Shakespeare him- 
 self. I recollect dining with Augustus Schlegel, at 
 Sir J. Mackintosh's, some forty years ago, when he 
 spoke insultingly of the ignorance in England of our 
 greatest author, adding that Enghshmen must come to 
 Germany to study him aright. The excellence of his 
 own translation of Shakespeare gave a certain sort of 
 authority to this comment. 
 
244 
 
 INFLUENCE OF WORDS AND NAMES, 
 
 Many maxims and trite sayings are current on tliis 
 subject, and justly so. But sucli maxims, even if 
 remembered, will never annul this influence on the 
 minds of men. Words have been wittily called ' the 
 counters of wise men, and the money of fools.' Few, 
 however, are wise and strong enough to see and put 
 aside all counterfeit coin, and to resist the tyranny 
 which daily and hourly use inflicts upon them. Hobbes 
 well says, ' It is a great ability in a man, out of the 
 words and contexture of language, to deliver himself 
 from equivocation.' It is, in truth, one of the best tests 
 of a sound mind to be able to do so. 
 
 I speak of words and names here simply as such, 
 since in numerous cases it is a single word or name 
 which governs a question to the reason of man. Ab- 
 stract philosophy, religion, literature and art, social 
 usages, and even the sterner physical sciences, teem 
 with examples. Luther says of St. Paul's style that 
 his words are 'living creatures.' So, in fact, are 
 innumerable words which enter into common speech, 
 and even into the inmost recesses of thought, impel- 
 hng, controlling, or distorting, despite all reason to 
 the contrary. 
 
 -ii- 
 
INFLUENCE OF WORDS AND NAMES. 245 
 
 It would be amusing as well as instructive to 
 catalogue the dominant words which, in different lan- 
 guages, meet us at the threshold of all learning. 
 Many of these are the bequest of ancient philosophy — 
 some necessary as aids to thought and speech, some 
 obstructive for want of due definition, others insuscep- 
 tible of definition altogether ; many altered in meaning 
 by time and human changes, some the growth of 
 common use, others the petted offspring of particular 
 schools. Psychology, under its various titles, is that 
 part of science in which the dominion of words is 
 largest and most uncontrolled. When we speak of the 
 soul, the mind, the spiritual nature — of sensation, per- 
 ception, ideas, feelings, volitions, conceptions, &c., 
 these terms serve their purpose, it may be, as well as 
 any others would do, yet they are all apt to become 
 what Berkeley has called ' scholastic shadows,' vaguely 
 understood and vaguely applied.^ It is, indeed, very 
 especially in metaphysical enquiries that words become 
 the bladders upon which ancient errors and crude con- 
 ceptions are floated down the stream of time. No 
 writer has expressed this more strongly than Goethe ; 
 yet he himself, while following the philosophy of 
 Spinoza and Leibnitz, was enslaved by the language of 
 his own poetical temperament. Every physician knows 
 that in diseases hitherto found incurable the number 
 of remedies professing to cure is always the greatest : 
 so in the more inscrutable problems of life and mind, 
 
 * A recent struggle between Mr. Mill and Dean Mansel over the body 
 of Sir W. Hamilton's philosophy somewhat recalls the language and 
 methods of the scholastic age. 
 
246 INFLUENCE OF WORDS AND NAMES. 
 
 language is ever enlarging its vocabulary without com- 
 ing nearer to what is an intelligible reality. 
 
 The same thing happens even in physical science, 
 the domains of which, though rapidly spreading, are 
 yet on every side circumscribed by lines which mark 
 the limits of human thought. It is in approaching 
 these confines that we are most beset by the entangle- 
 ments of language. The words ' substance,' ' elements,' 
 * atoms,' ' force,' ' momentum,' ' inertia,' ' afiinity,' ' cor- 
 relation,' 'potential or latent energy,' &c. all express 
 great natural facts, yet all are open more or less to 
 doubtful use and misconception. Despite this exactness, 
 indeed, the physical sciences often halt upon particular 
 phrases, which seem to record final truths, but which 
 further research compels us to discard. 
 
 It is curious to note the efiect on the mind of words 
 and phrases coming to us in another language, the 
 translation of those familiar to us in our own. This I 
 have often felt in passing from our version of the New 
 Testament to the Greek text, the antique English of 
 the translation often superadding a certain meaning of 
 its own. Or, to take slighter instances : who can read 
 the titles of Shakespeare's comedies in their German 
 translation without a whimsical feehng of novelty, or 
 acquiesce at once in the name of Schwazerd for the 
 pious and gentle Melanchthon ; or in that of Arouet for 
 the witty and profligate Voltaire ? The wonted names 
 are deeply rooted in the mind, and it is difiicult or 
 even harassing to dislodge them thence. 
 
 The influence of words deriving charm and weight 
 from their mere antiquity, the ' verba a vetustate repe- 
 
INFLUENCE OP WORDS AND NAMES. 247 
 
 tita,' is well known ; and it was so in the classical ages 
 as it is now. On the other hand, we have to encounter 
 constantly the seductions of new words, sometimes 
 necessary to the progress of knowledge, but often 
 giving only a new facing to old facts and opinions. 
 All that Quintilian says on these topics is excellent. 
 
 The theology of the Christian Church in its darker 
 ages is heavily chargeable with invention of new words 
 — the creation of doctrinal controversy — and is gene- 
 rally ponderous in proportion to the obscurity of the 
 matter. This remark occurs to me fresh from reading 
 the Epistles of the Patriarch Photius, whose mastery of 
 Greek (well attested by Person's double labour on his 
 Lexicon) revelled in the construction of compound 
 words — a luxury to his intellect, as well as a necessity 
 of the topics he is handling. Bacon speaks of ' the ill- 
 starred aUiance between the old philosophy and the 
 new faith.' This alliance required and invented a lan- 
 guage of its own, which has been too largely trans- 
 mitted by inheritance to our own creeds and con- 
 troversies. 
 
248 
 
 SUBJECTIVE FUNCTIONS OF THE EYE. 
 
 The word subjective thus used was given by Purkinge 
 (a physicist whom I knew at Breslau) to a class of phe- 
 nomena meriting more attention than they have re- 
 ceived — difficult of study, it is true, from their complex 
 and transient nature, and their diversity in difierent 
 persons. Science has well taught us the modes under 
 which hght reaches the retina and optic nerve. But 
 here we lose the traces of it as a physical agent, both 
 as regards the visual perception conveyed to the mind 
 and. those reflex lights and images of which w^e can 
 hardly define the seat, but which emerge from within 
 the eye, and are the subjects of distinct perception by 
 the mind. 
 
 These spectra vary greatly, and, under different 
 bodily conditions, in the same person. They require 
 to produce them the exclusion, more or less complete, 
 of outward vision ; and pressirre upon the eye, either 
 by closure of the lid or some stronger compression 
 from without. I regret not to have made more note of 
 their forms and changes in my own case. But there 
 are two forms which have drawn so strongly upon my 
 attention for some time past, for the last year espe- 
 cially, that I think them worthy of notice among these 
 curious phenomena. 
 
SUBJECTIVE FUNCTIONS OP THE EYE. 249 
 
 The first — rare and transient indeed compared with 
 the other — is the appearance to the closed eye of 
 several lines, four, five, or six, of printed type, not 
 exactly of the same length, nor exactly parallel, with 
 divisions as of separate words — seeming as if easy to 
 be read, yet mocking, by speedy confusion or disap- 
 pearance, the attempt to read them. This spectrum 
 rarely lasts more than thirty or forty seconds. In 
 some cases I can connect it, from the configuration of 
 the image, with the recent act of reading ; but at 
 other times it occurs after tlie eyes have been long 
 closed in sleep or otherwise. I do not recollect to 
 have noticed this appearance until within the last year 
 or two. 
 
 The second phenomenon is also one of recent obser- 
 vation, though, as there is required an act of will or 
 attention to be conscious of it, the physical condition 
 implied may have existed before without such con- 
 sciousness. When in the first approach of sleep, the 
 eyes being closed, I direct attention to the organ of 
 vision, a luminous spectrum of whitish green light ap- 
 pears, as if coming laterally upon the eye, about the 
 size of a common watch-glass, and nearly circular in 
 its outline, but indented in its circumference by ^ve or 
 six conical notches, and intersected in its area by a 
 sort of network of dark lines, presenting occasionally 
 somewhat of a regular configuration, but none that can 
 be defined as constant. This luminous circle is visible 
 as such for two or three seconds ; it then contracts 
 itself equably from the circumference inwards, till 
 nothing is left but a central bright nucleus. At the 
 
250 SUBJECTIVE FUNCTIONS OF THE EYE. 
 
 moment when this nucleus has shrunk to a mere point 
 the luminous circle breaks out suddenly again, of the 
 same size and aspect ; and the spectral series is re- 
 peated precisely in the same order and time as before, 
 four or five such series occurring within a minute. 
 Gradually the phenomena become feebler ; and I 
 have generally found that after a certain time, perhaps 
 half-an-hour, they wholly disappear. I have never 
 known them recur after the first period of sleep. 
 
 The particular posture in bed does not alter the 
 appearances. And I may further add that they occur 
 equally in any locahty, on sea as on land.^ 
 
 I have used here the phrase of ' directing attention 
 to the organ^ and I revert to this, inasmuch as it ex- 
 presses, thus applied, a great physical fact not suffi- 
 ciently recognised, viz., the power the mind has of 
 momentarily attaching its perception or consciousness 
 to particular portions of the body, and ever with some 
 change of feehng or function thereby produced in the 
 part. In a chapter of my ' Mental Physiology ' I have 
 dealt expressly with this subject ; but I could add 
 much more upon it were this chapter to be written 
 again. 
 
 * In a lecture delivered at Leeds some years ago, Sir J. Herschel 
 describes various analogous ocular spectra occurring to himself ' under 
 forms of symmetry and geometrical regularity ' — some of them circular 
 and singularly like those I have described above. I do not recollect, 
 however, that he denotes their intermission and recurrence in exact 
 similarity of interval and aspects. 
 
251 
 
 MAN AND NATURE} 
 
 [CONTBIBUTED TO THE 'EDINBURGH ReVIEw' IN 1864.] 
 
 Of the two works which we place at the head of this 
 article, the first is of largest pretension, both in title 
 and extent, and is that to which we seek chiefly to 
 direct the attention of our readers. The second is a 
 small volume comprising the substance of a course of 
 Lectures on Chmate, delivered at Torquay, by Dr. 
 Daubeny, the Oxford Professor of Botany. The topic 
 is one having such close connexion with the objects of 
 the larger work of Mr. Marsh, that we willingly bring 
 the volumes together, as mutually illustrative. That 
 of Dr. Daubeny, though much more limited in design 
 and details, is characterised by the various learning 
 and industry which are found in the former writings 
 of this zealous naturalist ; and we shall have occasion 
 now and then to refer to it in its bearing on the sub- 
 ject before us. 
 
 The author of the larger volume is an American 
 gentleman who has held, and still holds, we believe, a 
 high diplomatic position in the service of the United 
 
 * Abt. VI. — 1. Man and Nature ; or, Physical Geography, as Modi/led 
 by Human Action. By Geoege P. Maesh. London : 1864. 
 
 2. Climate : an Inquiry into the Causes of its Differences, and into its 
 Influence on Vegetable Life; coynprising the Substance of Four Lectures 
 delivered before the Natural History Society, Torquay, in February 1863. 
 By Chakles Dattbeny, M.D., F.R.S. 
 
252 MAN AND NATURE. 
 
 States ; and has further distinguished himself by a 
 valuable work on the 'Origin and Early History of 
 the English Language.' We always hail with satisfac- 
 tion any addition to the science or literature of the 
 world coming from our Transatlantic brethren. What- 
 ever the issue or effects of the bloody struggle now in 
 progress in America — a problem which time alone can 
 fully solve — we shall still stand in closer relationship 
 to this remarkable people than to any other nation of 
 the earth. The terms of ' common origin,* ' common 
 language,' and ' common literature ' have become the 
 hackneyed phraseology of public meetings and after- 
 dinner speeches, but they nevertheless denote facts 
 which are destined to be of deep interest in the future 
 history of the world. The vast territory and popula- 
 tion, united but four years ago under a single Govern- 
 ment, can never, we believe, recover the unity they 
 have lost. Had none of the causes of this war ex- 
 isted, we doubt whether the American Constitution, 
 or indeed any constitution, could have sustained the 
 enormous pressure upon its powers which twenty years 
 more of growing population and diverging local in- 
 terests would have engendered. But whether two 
 nations, or half-a-dozen nations, emerge out of the 
 present crisis, one future event will be the same — the 
 great North American continent, prolific in all that 
 pertains to the growth of man, will nurture a popula- 
 tion large as that of total Europe, educated generally 
 into a higher grade of civil and religious liberty, speak- 
 ing one language, and perpetuating through this lan- 
 guage the many glories of our early and later literature. 
 
MAN AND NATUKE. 253 
 
 The Federals of the present day will not look to this 
 futurity for America save through the restoration of 
 the Union. We, on the other hand, strongly incline 
 to see it in a division of territorial governments on 
 that great continent. We believe that time, with its 
 many accidents, and especially the feebleness of the 
 central Government, would inevitably bring about 
 future disruption, even were it not to occm- as the 
 result of the present war, of which the Slavery ques- 
 tion has been the motive with many, with some the 
 pretext. That which is inevitable (and thus many wise 
 Americans both of the present and past generation have 
 regarded it) is often best encountered before time has 
 so entangled the question as to render any safe solu- 
 tion impossible. 
 
 This topic may seem alien to the volume before 
 us, and yet it is not so. In treating of ' Physical Geo- 
 graphy as Modified by Human Action,' Mr. Marsh 
 derives numerous illustrations from the continent of 
 his own birth ; and reasonably as well as naturally so, 
 since N"orth America is that portion of the globe where 
 the most rapid changes have been effected by human 
 prowess, and where man still finds the largest scope 
 for the growth of population and power. We may 
 perhaps think that a slower progress would have been 
 more salutary ; but human impulses ride over all 
 theories and maxims, and Europe has hurried forth to 
 people the prairies, and glut the rising cities with races 
 having very shght kindred with the primitive settlers 
 of the country. This mixed people, however, has its 
 destiny in the future history of the world. Without 
 
254 MAN AND NATUEE. 
 
 looking for those Utopian commonwealths which have 
 never existed but in the brains of philosophers and 
 philanthropists, we see enough, even in the sad ex- 
 perience of this war, to show how great is the energy 
 and expansive activity of the race ; how much they are 
 certain yet to accomphsh in moulding nature to their 
 purposes, and changing the aspects of the great con- 
 tinent they inhabit. America and Australia are the 
 two fields in which the intelligence and inventions of 
 our own age find their widest apphcation. The ordi- 
 nary growth of centuries is here compressed into two 
 or three generations, and the surface of the earth sub- 
 mitted to changes which have no parallel in the earher 
 history of nations. 
 
 In looking at the subject of Mr. Marsh's volume, 
 as expounded by its title, we find something like an 
 antithesis to the scheme of that larger work of Mr. 
 Buckle which was brought to an end by his premature 
 death. In two former articles of this Eeview we dealt 
 fully, and we believe fairly, with the theory propounded 
 and the arguments projQTered in this remarkable work. 
 Seeking to maintain his thesis that history may be 
 raised, approximately at least, to the character of one 
 of the exact sciences, Mr. Buckle founded his main 
 argument on the assumption that man is a mere agent, 
 pliant if not passive, under the physical laws and ex- 
 ternal influences which surround him on earth. He 
 brought to the illustration of this doctrine a vast array 
 of learning, famihar or unfamiliar, exact or inexact — a 
 task easy in some respects, since amidst the enormous 
 number of events and relations crowded into the circle 
 
MAN AND NATUEE. 255 
 
 of human life on the globe, there may readily be found 
 such as will serve to vindicate any paradox whatsoever. 
 That propounded by Mr. Buckle has been adopted, in 
 terms even less qualified, by writers of later date. The 
 government of the world has been described as accom- 
 pHshed by immutable laws ; and the social conditions, 
 changes, and progress of man represented as not less 
 controlled by these laws than his bodily conformation 
 and growth. In the articles just referred to we showed 
 the various errors as to fact which have been used in 
 support of this theory, and the one-sided character of 
 the argument throughout. We have reason to beheve 
 that Mr. Buckle himself, in the progress of his work, 
 grew distrustful of his own earlier views, and saw that 
 in seeking to make a science out of the history of man- 
 kind he had no solid foundation or materials for so 
 vast a superstructure. The building tottered under 
 his hands while he was yet at work upon it. 
 
 The tendency of Mr. Buckle's work was to assert 
 the supremacy of the material conditions of existence 
 over human history and the mind of man ; that of Mr. 
 Marsh is to assert the supremacy of the mind of man 
 over the material elements of the globe. The theme 
 taken up by him, while regarding the relations of Man 
 to the natural world from an opposite point of view, 
 is more limited in its pretensions, and descriptive rather 
 than theoretical in kind. It has further the merit of 
 being well-defined in its general objects. The questions 
 put before us are for the most part simple and precise. 
 What has man done, what may man still do, with pur- 
 pose or without purpose, to change for better or worse 
 
256 MAN AJS^D NATURE. 
 
 the physical conditions of the earth upon which his lot 
 has been cast ? But while thus giving our own defini- 
 tion of the subject, it is fair to let Mr. Marsh himself 
 speak of the design he has had in view : — 
 
 The object of the present vohime is : to indicate the 
 character and, approximately, the extent of the changes pro- 
 duced by human action in the physical conditions of the 
 globe we inhabit ; to point out the dangers of imprudence 
 and the necessity of caution in all operations which, on a 
 large scale, interfere with the spontaneous arrangements of 
 the organic or the inorganic world ; to suggest the possibility 
 and the importance of the restoration of disturbed harmonies 
 and the material improvement of waste and exhausted 
 regions ; and incidentally to illustrate the doctrine that 
 man is, both in kind and degree, a power of a higher order 
 than any other of the forms of animated life, which, like 
 him, are noiuished at the table of bounteous nature. 
 
 The scheme thus indicated will be seen to em- 
 brace within itself a vast variety of particular objects, 
 and many questions not yet settled by experience. It 
 is connected in every part with the physical sciences, 
 as well as with the intellectual and social conditions of 
 man, and has for its business to expound the recipro- 
 cities of action between the two. Some of the ques- 
 tions it involves are those which press closely upon our 
 very existence ; while others concern those higher 
 grades of civilisation which have so marvellously 
 subjected the forces of nature to the higher energies of 
 man. 
 
 The design, then, of Mr. Marsh's work, though it 
 might have been more happily expressed, is one of 
 practical interest and value. We would willingly 
 
MAN AND NATURE. 257 
 
 speak favourably of its fulfilment ; but this cannot be 
 done without some qualification. We have no fault 
 to find with his style, which is generally clear and 
 sometimes eloquent. We have much also to commend 
 of zeal and industry in the collection of facts, and of 
 entire honesty in his manner of using them— a high 
 merit, whatever be the matter under discussion. But 
 what we find reason to regret is, that having appro- 
 priated a worthy subject, and one of comparative 
 novelty, he should have deprived his work of much of 
 its value by the inartistic way in which he has put his 
 materials together, rendering it thereby equally diffi- 
 cult to read and to remember them. There is what 
 we may best describe as a want of haMone to the 
 volume. Some part of this default may probably be 
 due to the detached and fragmentary manner in which 
 his information has been collected — something also to 
 the fact that Mr. Marsh has obviously an imperfect 
 knowledge of the physical sciences, and is wanting, 
 therefore, in that exactness of method and strictness of 
 induction which are now required on all subjects 
 coming into association with them. His proofs are 
 often trivial from their limited locality, and not always 
 duly balanced as to authority and value ; and he fre- 
 quently omits such as might w^ell have superseded 
 those upon which he dwells for the support of his 
 argument. 
 
 We have further to complain of deficiency as re- 
 gards the mere technicalities of book-making. The 
 volume is prefaced by a copious list of works consulted 
 by. our author, attesting in this his zeal and industry ; 
 
 S 
 
258 MAN AND NATUBE. 
 
 but we find no table of contents, nor any sufficient 
 indication of the scheme followed in the body of the 
 work. The want of these usual aids is a serious im- 
 pediment to the reader, and may have contributed in 
 part to that fragmentary character of the work to 
 which we have alluded. The heading of the chapters 
 is copious ; but these are broken again into numerous 
 short paragraphs, with a separate heading to each — a 
 plan leading to frequent repetition and a want of con- 
 tinuity in the whole. 
 
 We can hardly note it as a fault, but it is a pecu- 
 liarity in Mr. Marsh's work, that he has thrown fully 
 half of its substance into the form of notes. Many of 
 these notes are references to authorities, but many 
 others are reflections of the author himself, and often 
 of such value as to merit more diligent perusal than 
 the text which suggests them. Numerous illustrations, 
 as we have already stated, are drawn from the Ameri- 
 can continent, the largest exponent of the growing 
 dominion of man on the surface of the globe. Mr. 
 Marsh shows himself a keen commentator on the 
 habits and peculiarities of his countrymeu, and very 
 candid in his avowal of what he thinks might be 
 amended. In one passage, with a note annexed to it 
 (p. 328), he speaks strongly of the instability of 
 American life, and closes his comments with something 
 very like an aspii'ation after change in the American 
 method of conveying land by inheritance: — 
 
 All human institutions, associate arrangements, and 
 modes of life have their cliaracteristic imperfections. The 
 natural, perhaps the necessary defect of ours, is their insta- 
 
MAN AND NATUEE. 259 
 
 bility, their want of fixedness, not in form only, but even in 
 spirit. The face of physical nature in the United States 
 sharesL this incessant fluctuation, and the landscape is as 
 variable as the habits of the population. It is time for some 
 abatement in the restless love of change which characterises 
 us, and makes us rather a nomade than a sedentary people. 
 ... It is rare that a middle-aged American dies in the 
 house where he was born, or an old man even in that which 
 he has built ; and this is scarcely less true of the rural dis- 
 tricts, where every man owns his habitation, than of the city, 
 where the majority live in hired houses. This life of inces- 
 sant flitting is unfavourable for the execution of permanent 
 improvements of every sort, and especially of those which, 
 like the forest, are slow in repaying the capital expended on 
 them. It requires a very generous spirit in a landholder to 
 plant a wood or a farm he expects to sell, or which he knows 
 will pass out of the hands of his descendants at his death. 
 
 The general comments we have made on Mr. 
 Marsli's work will show that it is one difficult to 
 analyse in detail. We may better serve our readers 
 by bringing before them our own more succinct view 
 of the great questions it touches upon, and the con- 
 clusions which have been reached, or are yet before us 
 for attainment. To superficial enquirers it may seem 
 a matter of simple and easy evidence to denote the 
 changes and conditions of the earth's surface which are 
 due to human agency. But this is far from being the 
 case. Many collateral questions and issues enter into 
 the problem, and the objects of enquiry are so many 
 and so complex that it is often exceedingly difficult to 
 disengage the truth. If any prehminary proof of this 
 were needed, it might be found in the consideration 
 that man has a double faculty allotted to him on the 
 
 s 2 
 
260 MAN AND NATURE. 
 
 earth — he creates and he destroys. We have to deal 
 with what he does^ and what he undoes, in the world 
 of nature around him. And the modes of action in 
 each case are often so indirect, and so little guided by 
 reason or intention — so closely blended, moreover, 
 with the operations of Nature herself — that our con- 
 clusions are constantly at fault, even on points of 
 greatest practical interest. The judgments of one 
 generation are contradicted by the more matured and 
 larger experiences of the next. 
 
 In the summary view we are about to offer the 
 form of history must be almost wholly discarded. We 
 can give no initial date to the enquiry ; we know not 
 at what time, chronologically speaking, man first ap- 
 peared on the earth. We are ignorant, or only 
 scantily informed, as to the state of the earth when 
 human existence first dawned upon it. The 'A/o^'Vj 
 that mysterious term, translatable into every language, 
 because common to all human thought, is in this par- 
 ticular case, as in so many others, far beyond the 
 scope of human research. We have heard and read 
 much lately on this question of the antiquity of man 
 on the globe. Putting aside that theory of our own 
 time, which solves it by assuming his gradual deriva- 
 tion from mammaha lower in the scale of animal life, 
 we yet have not facts sufficient to furnish any more 
 certain answer, as far as time is concerned. The re- 
 cent discoveries of human implements and bones in 
 caverns and elsewhere, associated with the remains of 
 animal species now extinct, have disclosed a compara- 
 tive antiquity of man (possibly also a lower grade of 
 
MAN AND NATURE. 261 
 
 humanity) far greater than we derive from any written 
 record of his history. But we can bring no numbers 
 with which to specify this earher date ; and while facts 
 are every day multiplying upon us, much is yet needed 
 for that thorough confirmation which science requires. 
 The whole enquiry, though it has gained a sort of 
 specialty for the moment, merges in that larger sub- 
 ject which has received the cumbrous name of 
 Palaeontology — a part of knowledge, we must add, 
 however it be named, which forms one of the most 
 wonderful exploits of human intelligence as directed to 
 the natural history of the globe. 
 
 ISTor can we do much more than vaguely speculate 
 on the state of the earth's surface when Man appeared 
 upon it. Geology is the only school to which we can 
 go for information here. This science, aided by zoology 
 and botany, has made the marvellous disclosures, to 
 which we have just alluded, of those successive stages 
 through which, during ages beyond all estimate, the 
 visible crust of om^ globe has passed before assuming 
 its present state and aspect. We have successive faunas 
 and floras thus opened out to our inspection, numerous 
 almost as those of the actual world — detached in parts 
 by time and intervening catastrophes, yet linked to- 
 gether as a whole in the manifest scheme of creation. 
 Whether the changes in them from one period to 
 another belong to separate acts of creative power, or 
 to evolutions and transmutations of species ever going 
 on but hidden from us in certain steps of their progress, 
 is the question which has started into active litigation 
 among the naturalists of our day. We are not con- 
 
262 MAN AND NATURE. 
 
 cerned with it here otherwise than as regards a fact 
 recognised under any view, viz., that there has been 
 a general progress, as time went on, towards higher 
 organisation and capacities of existence. Taking the 
 animal kingdom as our example, we find the series 
 variously broken, and the inferior and simpler forms 
 of earlier date continuing to coexist with the later 
 and higher. But the tendency in the series is ever up- 
 wards ; bringing its higher members, as regards bodily 
 structure, into close contact with Man, the highest in 
 the scale. His earliest existence is contemporaneous 
 with some animal species now extinct, but which had 
 near affinity to species still present on the earth. Others 
 have become extinct even within the time of human 
 record. Nevertheless, for our argument it may fairly 
 be assumed that the aspect of animal life, coeval with 
 the first appearance of Man, did not greatly differ, in 
 forms at least, from that we now see around us. 
 
 Of the numbers, however, and distribution of these 
 animal forms over the then existing lands and waters 
 of the globe we are less able to speak with assurance. 
 It may be considered probable that the animals since 
 domesticated for human purposes were proportionally 
 less numerous during the infancy of Man than those 
 which are either useless to him, or with which it is his 
 lot to struggle under the ruder conditions of life. But 
 any conjecture beyond this would be bald speculation, 
 unsupported by facts. The remark appHes equally to 
 the vegetable covering of the earth at the period in 
 question. The discoveries made in fossil botany have 
 led to its classification into four or five successive floras, 
 
MAN AND NATURE. 263 
 
 corresponding in some sort with the kindred series of 
 animal life ; but more distinctly marked by the char- 
 acters which changes of climate have impressed upon 
 these wonderful records of ages gone by. The peculiar 
 and proftise vegetation, the gigantic ferns and lycopo- 
 diaceffi of the coal formation, belong to a climate hotter 
 than that to which their products now so abundantly 
 minister light and heat. In the fossil flora of the 
 tertiary strata we find ourselves more closely approach- 
 ing to that of our own time, in the proportions as well 
 as in the families and species of the vegetable world. 
 Though forced to admit a long interval of time and 
 change, including the so-called glacial period, between 
 the newest of the Pleiocene strata and the human 
 epoch, we have reason to beheve that this approach to 
 existing vegetation still went on, and that the earliest 
 of our race found the earth clothed with trees and 
 herbs not greatly differing in kind from those which 
 now cover its surface. It is probable, from various 
 considerations, that the forests of this period were very 
 widely extended, and that the Conifer^e especially 
 formed a large proportion of this forest growth. We 
 may remark, as worthy of note here, that in the peat- 
 mosses of Denmark (which show in succession down- 
 wards the vestiges of the Iron, Bronze, and Stone Ages 
 of human implements, and thence inferentially the 
 succession of different races of men) the lower or 
 Stone stratum abounds in trunks of the pine and fir 
 only ; while those of the oak are largely found in the 
 Bronze period, and of the beech (now the predominant 
 tree of the country) in the Iron. 
 
264 MAN AND NATURE. 
 
 While speculating on the climate and conditions of 
 the earth's surface at the time most nearly coeval with 
 the advent of Man, we are bound to admit the difficulty 
 of the problem which the glacial period brings before 
 us. Our eminent geologist, Sir C. Lyell, has bestowed 
 all his ability and zeal in seeking to decipher the 
 probable causes of this great catastrophe — the inter- 
 position, between two periods of higher temperature, 
 of a long period of such cold as to cover much of our 
 Northern hemisphere (and proofs to the same effect have 
 lately come to us from the Southern) with glaciers, the 
 magnitude of which is very feebly pictured by those 
 we now look upon in the Alps and Greenland seas. He 
 has sought to connect this enquiry with his larger re- 
 searches into changes of climate as affected by altered 
 proportions of land and sea in different geological eras. 
 But the line of discovery here has not yet fairly touched 
 the ground. The astronomical relations of our planet 
 give no aid towards a solution. Its internal condition, 
 as a molten mass crusted over, and losing heat, as we 
 presume it to have been lost through prior ages by 
 radiation into space, while plausibly explaining some 
 phenomena, leaves others in the same darkness as be- 
 fore. The total question, including its relation to the 
 human race, is one that science has not hitherto solved, 
 but to which many avenues are open, and a crowd of 
 naturalists pressing forwards upon them. 
 
 We have thus far been but upon the threshold of 
 the subject which forms the material of Mr. Marsh's 
 volume. Yet these prehminary views are necessary to 
 
MAN AND NATURE. 265 
 
 the completeness of the picture, and to a right compre- 
 hension of the influences which this new element of 
 human life has had on the physical conditions of the 
 earth's surface. To the animal instincts which before 
 had rule in the world we now find added the higher 
 faculty of intelhgent design — of mental superinduced 
 on bodily force. This is the subject with which we are 
 liere more directly concerned. We are called upon to 
 indicate the extent, or what may better perhaps be 
 termed the hmits, of Man's power over the conditions 
 of the natural world around him ; and then to show 
 what he has already done, or may attain hereafter, in 
 effect of this power. We desire the more to mark 
 clearly the several points of the argument, since the 
 want of such method is the defect which will be most 
 felt by the readers of the volume before us. 
 
 Pii'st, then, what is the extent, and what are the 
 limits, of human power over the earth we inhabit? 
 The simplest division of this large question is that 
 which regards the influence of Man, severally, upon 
 the inorganic elements around him, and upon matter 
 organised into animal and vegetable life. There is close 
 inter-relation between these objects, as will at once be 
 obvious ; but, for the sake of clearness, they may better 
 be regarded separately ; and in such division the rela- 
 tion of Man to inorganic existence, whether of matter 
 or force, is that which comes first into view. His in- 
 fluence, as the head of the hving creation, on other 
 forms and attributes of fife, will be best considered in 
 sequel to the former. 
 
 The atmosphere, the waters, and the superficial crust 
 
266 MAN AND NATURE. 
 
 of the earth, are the portions of the material inorganic 
 world with which we are connected by reciprocal rela- 
 tions essential to our very existence. No illustrations 
 are needed in proof of this general fact. But beyond it 
 lies another, equally certain though more obscure to our 
 conception, viz., the existence of certain forces, or active 
 powers of nature — light, heat, electricity, gravitation, 
 &c. — ^which we cannot define as material, though they 
 are known to us only in connexion with matter, and 
 through their several actions upon it. These so-called 
 forces (for we have at present no fitter name for 
 them), while governing and constraining in various ways 
 the power and action of Man, are in other and endless 
 ways submitted to his intelhgence, and become the 
 instruments with which he works in the material 
 world. The relations of matter to force, as well as the 
 correlation of different forms of force, and the con- 
 nexion of all with organisation and vitality, are the 
 problems most strenuously pursued by the philosophers 
 of our own day. Experimental truths and metaphy- 
 sical uncertainties come here into close contact, and too 
 often engender shallow devices of language to shelter 
 imperfect knowledge. But the search after truth by 
 experiment and strict induction is now the rule of all 
 science; and words are used by wise men but as 
 counters, to be put aside or changed when they have 
 fulfilled their temporary purposes. 
 
 We are carrying this general view far beyond the 
 horizon which our author has been content to take as 
 his boundary. But we feel that by thus enlarging its 
 scope we give to the subject a higher purpose as a 
 
MAN AND NATURE. 267 
 
 part of the history of mankind ; and bring it into such 
 connexion with the physical sciences as to increase the 
 hkehhood of practical usefulness hereafter. We may 
 remark further, that many of the physical relations just 
 adverted to, complex though they are, may be reduced 
 to simpler and more familiar terms for the objects 
 of our argument. The single word. Climate, for in- 
 stance, expresses one of the most important relations 
 of man to the natural world around him — a relation 
 which concerns human existence in its every part. But 
 this word, Chmate, taken in its largest sense, compre- 
 hends within itself all those elements and attributes of 
 matter and force, the mutual influences and actions of 
 which produce the phenomena so familiar to us under 
 this single expression. Earth, water, and air — as they 
 are acted upon by heat and light, and more obscurely 
 by electricity, the chemical and cohesive forces, gravi- 
 tation and the axial rotation of the globe — furnish the 
 material for all those complex conditions of seasons, 
 land and ocean winds, tides, currents, rains, thunder- 
 storms and hurricanes, snow and ice, amidst which we 
 live, and which we are ever seeking (civilised and 
 savage man alike) to mould into what may best con- 
 duce to the well-being of hfe. Even seen through its 
 more homely details of habitation, clothing, and food, 
 there is something great in this unceasing toil and 
 struggle with the elements around. But the contest 
 becomes of higher kind when man takes these very 
 elements into his service,, and gains fresh dominion 
 over the earth through their aid. Seeing how various 
 and vast are the forces acting, and the materials acted 
 
268 MAN AND NATURE. 
 
 upon — the latter diiFused over the globe, the former 
 not limited to our narrow sphere, but, some of them 
 at least, energetic througliout all sidereal space — ^we 
 may well find much of grandeur in this appropriation 
 to human purposes of powers above human compre- 
 hension. The instincts of inferior animals act through 
 these powers, but without consciousness of them, and 
 with no ability to control or direct them by intelli- 
 gence. 
 
 We must not, however, carry too far this assump- 
 tion of superiority. We are seeking now to define 
 what Man can do in modifying the physical conditions 
 of the earth ; and Climate comes in among the first 
 points in question. Its intimate relation to all other 
 objects of physical science has just been noticed ; and 
 the term Meteorology expresses that independent 
 branch of science designed to embrace these relations. 
 The name is one inherited fi:om antiquity — partially 
 and ignorantly applied in its origin ; now, like many 
 other cognate terms, amplified in its meaning, to satisfy 
 the exigencies of growing knowledge and a higher 
 philosophy. But meteorology is yet far from taking 
 rank among the exact sciences. Notwithstanding all 
 that has been done of late years, and the better defi- 
 nition of the objects sought for, it is still in compara- 
 tive infancy as a branch of human knowledge. We 
 can but partially and doubtfully explain the events it 
 records. The power of predicting them is limited to 
 certain periodical phenomena ; and to those more local 
 sequences and averages which we are wont to note 
 without being able to interpret them. As respects, 
 
MAN AND NATURE. 269 
 
 indeed, the climate of particular countries and places, 
 all common notions are singularly vague, and common 
 phraseology still more so. Tables of observation are 
 perpetually correcting the errors of ignorance, and of 
 thfxt fashion in belief which mixes itself, more or less, 
 in all matters of worldly concernment. 
 
 Professor Dove, of Berhn, justly described by Dr. 
 Daubeny as the highest authority in meteorology, has 
 collected many most valuable results in reference to 
 the phenomena of Climate ; and has well indicated by 
 his own methods the manner of research best fitted to 
 extend the science and render it more exact. That 
 much will yet be done in fulfilment of these objects, 
 we regard as certain. The very complexity of the 
 physical relations concerned in the enquiry, while 
 greatly enhancing its difficulties, does at the same time 
 give more various access to the truths sought for. 
 
 Meanwhile, the admission we are obliged to make 
 of our imperfect understanding of these phenomena, so 
 vast in scale and so complex in action, is virtually an 
 admission that Man can do but little to control them 
 by any exercise of his own powers. Such at least is 
 the case as regards all the greater elements concerned. 
 He cannot alter the course, or arrest the energy, of 
 those great atmospheric and ocean currents which 
 sweep around the globe — beneficent, or even neces- 
 sary, in their general influence, destructive only in 
 their excess. He cannot change the total amount of 
 light and lieat derived from the sun, though he can 
 vary in different ways its local distribution. He has 
 no power, save indirectly and in limited localities, over 
 
270 MAN AND NATUEE. 
 
 that great and never-ceasing circuit of the waters of 
 the globe which is carried on by evaporation and by 
 rains. Though he has subjected the wonderful ele- 
 ment of electricity to wonderful uses, yet has he little 
 or no control over it in the wide compass of those 
 atmospheric and other changes in which it bears a part 
 so large, yet even now so little understood. The same 
 remark applies to the magnetic force as a mode of 
 electric action ; pervading, we have reason to believe, 
 the whole solar system, and concerned probably in 
 many more terrestrial phenomena than have yet been 
 assigned to this cause. Over gravitation, a force chiefly 
 strong in its concentration and by its fixed and un- 
 ceasing action over all matter, Man may seem to have 
 acquired more control ; but it is in every case gained 
 by the expenditure of some other energy, mechanical 
 or chemical, brought into momentary conflict with this 
 great motive-power of the universe. 
 
 Such, briefly expressed, are the limits to human 
 power, in its relation to the elements, which in their 
 combination form the various climates of the earth. It 
 would require a volume, and one more ample and 
 complete than that now before us, to denote the ways 
 through which, directly or indirectly, man has sought 
 to extend these hmits, and to gain a higher mastery 
 over the inorganic as well as the living world. Matter 
 and force being ever the same in absolute amount (a 
 modern doctrine repeating more explicitly one of 
 ancient date), his ability consists in setting in action 
 those changes and translations of which matter and 
 forces are susceptible, to fulfil purposes necessary or 
 
MAN AND NATURE. 271 
 
 beneficial to his own existence. The fit^LS /cat SiaX- 
 Xctft^ liiyivTo)v expresses briefly what is his deahng 
 with a large class of objects in the natiu^al world. We 
 shall touch upon some of these points hereafter ; but 
 meanwhile must speak somewhat further of the in- 
 fluence he has found means to exercise over local 
 chmate— a matter of deep concernment to the existence 
 and well-being of mankind. 
 
 We say local climate^ because it is only in special 
 localities, and not generally over the globe, that this 
 influence can be brought into action. And it is well 
 worthy of note that the great agent in any such change 
 belongs to the living world, and to the domain of ve- 
 getable hfe — one that Man can mould to his uses both 
 by propagation and destruction, yet hitherto only with 
 vague knowledge in what these uses consist. It is the 
 forest which thus actively ministers to the climatic 
 conditions of the earth ; which, extirpated by the axe 
 or restored by planting, changes both the face of na- 
 ture and the distribution and destinies of human life. 
 This simple name of Forest will hardly bring to the 
 casual reader a conception of all that it implies ; of 
 the vast extent of the earth's surface thus covered in 
 every zone, to the very confines of the arctic ckcle ; of 
 the various aspects and qualities of this great forest 
 mantle, and of its relation to all the moving elements 
 of the natural world. It is impossible to estimate, even 
 by loose approximation, the actual extent of surface so 
 occupied. We have given reasons for believing that 
 the earth was largely covered with wood at the time 
 when Man first became its denizen. And though in 
 
272 MAN AXD NATURE. 
 
 our own day we find in tropical countries vast regions 
 almost treeless, the balance is fully struck on otlier 
 continents by those wide tracts of close and continuous 
 forests into which no lumberer's axe has ever pene- 
 trated. Even in Europe, where intelhgence and industry 
 have been most active in seeking fresh space for human 
 existence, we may affirm that one-half the total area is 
 covered with woods, either widely continuous, as in 
 Eussia, Sweden, Norway, and Poland ; or broken into 
 detached forests, as in Germany, Turkey, and France ; 
 or into smaller patches of timber, as in our own island. 
 
 A considerable part of Mr. Marsh's volume is occu- 
 pied with this topic — one most natural and reasonable 
 to an American writer. On the North American con- 
 tinent the vast regions east of the Mississippi, stretch- 
 ing northwards through Canada into the boinidless 
 solitudes of the Hudson's Bay Territory, are still 
 covered with forests which set at defiance all common 
 measurements of space. The devastation of a pine- 
 forest by fire will often give to the traveller a more 
 vivid perception of extent than whole days of passage 
 through them. We ourselves have seen, in the wide 
 regions of the Upper Ottowa, an area of nearly sixty 
 miles in length and ten or fifteen miles in width, which 
 had been thus devastated by a single fire carried by 
 an impetuous wind over this long line of destruction. 
 Such a wilderness of gaunt perpendicular trunks, naked 
 of all branches and blackly charred, shows the depth 
 and density of a forest under an aspect never to be 
 forgotten. 
 
 America, in fact, is the country of the world where 
 
MAN AND NATURE. 273 
 
 the most vigorous struggle has existed — and, despite 
 war, is still going on — between a new and energetic 
 people and the native covering of the soil. The forest 
 here must be extirpated or thinned, to make room for 
 a more profitable vegetation ; and a striking feature in 
 American landscape, even in the older States, is the 
 crop of corn growing luxuriantly amidst the stumps of 
 ancient trees. But while this destruction of the native 
 woods of the country is yet in active progress, some 
 prospective alarm has arisen lest it should be carried 
 too far. And as this question involves very directly the 
 influences which forests have upon the climate and phy- 
 sical conditions of a country, we will quote part of a long 
 passage from Mr. Marsh, who is himself a strenuous 
 supporter of forest claims over the globe, and in more 
 than one place presses strongly his complaints against 
 mankind at large, as the habitual destroyers of what 
 Nature has done to enrich and beautify its surface : — 
 
 With the disappearance of the forest all is changed. 
 At one season the earth parts with its warmth by radiation 
 to an open sky, and receives at another an immoderate heat 
 from the imobstructed rays of the sun. Hence the climate 
 becomes excessive, and the soil is alternately parched hj the 
 fervors of summer and seared by the rigors of winter. Bleak 
 winds sweep imresisted over its surface, drift away the snow 
 that sheltered it from the frost, and dry up its scanty mois- 
 ture. The precipitation becomes as irregular as the tempera- 
 ture ; the melting snows and vernal rains, no longer absorbed 
 by a loose and bibulous vegetable mould, rush over the 
 frozen surface, and pour down the valleys seawards, instead 
 of filling a retentive bed of absorbent earth, and storing up 
 moisture to feed perennial springs. The soil is bared of its 
 covering of leaves, deprived of the fibrous rootlets which held 
 
 T 
 
274 MAN AND NATURE. 
 
 it together, dried and pulverised by sun and wind, and at 
 last exhausted by new combinations. . . . The rivulets, 
 wanting their former regularity of supply, and deprived of 
 the protecting shade of woods, are heated, evaporated, and 
 reduced in their summer currents, but swollen to raging 
 torrents in autumn and spring. . . . The washing of the soil 
 from the mountains leaves bare ridges of sterile rock ; and 
 the rich organic mould which covered them, now swept down 
 into the damp low grounds, promotes a luxuriance of aquatic 
 vegetables that breeds fever and more insidious forms of 
 mortal disease by its decay. ^ 
 
 Such, somewhat abridged, is the theme of our 
 American Evelyn ; in style rather florid and ambitious, 
 yet doubtless containing much that is true and of prac- 
 tical value. He recurs to this topic in every part of 
 the volume, and fortifies his position by various autho- 
 rities, ancient and modern.^ Here, nevertheless, we 
 must bring in the old claim of audi alteram partem, as 
 essential to truth. Mr. Marsh bestows his zeal on one 
 side of the case, and generalises too much upon it, 
 without duly regarding those many exceptions which 
 Nature is ever suggesting or forcing upon us. He seems 
 to forget in his large conclusions that to preserve the 
 native forest is in many countries to narrow the space 
 allotted by Providence to the growth and maintenance 
 
 * To these various effects of forest vegetation our author might per- 
 haps have added its influence on the electrical relations of the atmosphere 
 and earth — an influence greater, we believe, than is usually supposed. 
 But though certain as fact, the particular conditions it involves are still 
 so little known that their omission may reasonably be justified. 
 
 ^ One of the most recent and valuable works on this subject seems 
 to be that of Hohenstein (18G0), entitled 'Der Wald.' Our old English 
 writer, Harrison, has a curiously quaint chapter on the woods and 
 marshes of England, complaining much of the decay of the former j and 
 other ancient English authorities might be quoted to the same effect. 
 
MAN AND NATURE. 275 
 
 of mankind. Finding 'tongues in trees,* he allows 
 them to speak somewhat too loudly on their own be- 
 half, and to suppress the claims of those cereal crops 
 and pastures which the industry of man is seeking in 
 so many places to substitute for them. 
 
 In truth, this relation of forests to climates and 
 other conditions of the earth in which human interests 
 are involved is a matter hardly to be reached by gene- 
 ral maxims. To gain anything like fair practical results 
 it must be made a question of countries and localities 
 — of the extent and relative proportion of surface thus 
 occupied — of the character of the forests themselves — 
 of the character of the country at large, whether 
 mountainous or level, near to the sea or distant from 
 it — of the nature of the rocks and soil on its surface — 
 and of those various incidents of local climate which 
 belong to other natural causes. The practical question 
 is one widely diiferent as applied to the forests of Scan- 
 dinavia, and to those woods of the Apennines, in 
 Southern Italy, the extirpation of which has doubtless 
 contributed, with other causes, to defertilise and de- 
 populate the valleys of that region — very different, 
 also, as applied to the interminable forests of Upper 
 Canada or Kew Brunswick, and to the residual masses 
 of wood in New York and Pennsylvania. We may 
 add, as further example, that timber growing on hills 
 or steep acclivities, and that of plains, whether marshy 
 or arid, can never be brought in illustration of any 
 equal or similar influence on the physical conditions of 
 a country. Every region has its particular aptitudes, 
 and a single theory can in no sense be applied to all. 
 
 T 2 
 
276 MAN AND NATURE. 
 
 We may, however, fairly join our author in affirm- 
 ing that vegetation, under the form of woods, is neces- 
 sary, more or less, to the well-being of every country ; 
 and that many regions, once fertile, have become 
 otherwise by the loss or curtailment of this magnificent 
 provision of Nature for their covering. And as a 
 practical corollary to these facts we may speak with 
 assurance of the power Man has of gaining or restoring 
 lands, thus barren from nature or human improvidence, 
 by planting fresh forests where none now exist. With 
 due attention to soil, climate, and other local circum- 
 stances, he may rejoice in the conviction that he is thus 
 providing for the good of his posterity, if not for his 
 own ; ' Serit arbores, quse alteri sa^culo prosint/ This 
 remark especially applies to the tracts of arid sand so 
 numerous over the globe, even in close contiguity to 
 high cultivation, as the Landes of France, the Dunes 
 and Steppes of other European countries. A covering 
 of well-selected woods, or even of such plants as the 
 bent-grass, would in time give to these sterile sands a 
 new and happier soil ; and this attained, the axe might 
 come in to make over to the agriculturist a part of the 
 surface thus freshly provided for his labours. Experi- 
 ments to this effect we believe to be now in progress in 
 several countries, and they will doubtless be extended 
 hereafter.^ 
 
 ^ At the recent meeting of the British Association we understand 
 that a communication has been made regarding an extensive region in 
 the Orange River territory of South Africa, bearing marks of having 
 been formerly well wooded, but now utterly treeless and barren. The 
 progress of colonisation northwards may make it expedient to remedy this 
 by fresh planting; and such we believe to be the suggestion of the 
 gentleman, Mr. Fox Wilson, who has presented this memoir. 
 
MAN AND NATURE. 277 
 
 We have dwelt on this subject at some length, 
 from the prominence Mr. Marsh has given to it in his 
 volume. We now come to other points illustrative of 
 the dominion which Man exercises on the earth — illus- 
 trations more definite and intelligible than the complex 
 conditions of chmate, and the doubtful question how 
 far, and in what way, these are modified by the forest 
 vegetation which Man can create or destroy. Most of 
 these illustrations belong to the age in which we are 
 now living. All need to be brought into relation with 
 it. The last century — the last fifty years more espe- 
 cially — ^has established a new era of human power ; in 
 which, by aid of fresh elements subjected to command, 
 and fresh impulse given to those of older use, more has 
 been done to subjugate the earth and ocean to human 
 purposes than in the total period forming the prior 
 history of mankind. 
 
 We must begin by carrying our readers for a few 
 minutes below the surface — to those wonderful works 
 of mining genius and industry upon which England, 
 beyond all other countries on the globe, relies for her 
 prosperity and greatness. In mines as they are now 
 worked we have an admirable example of dominion 
 gained over the natural world by the piu-e force of 
 human intelligence. In the profound depth and ex- 
 tent of many of them, in the magnitude and perfection 
 of the machinery employed, and in the methods by 
 which air is given to the mine and water removed 
 from it, we find every element of grandeur and suc- 
 cessful energy. It is not possible here to go into details ; 
 and yet, seeing how little these things are known or 
 
278 UXN AND NATURE. 
 
 estimated, we cannot forbear saying a few words about 
 the mines of England more especially, as those which 
 exemplify on the largest scale all others of the world 
 besides. Our pecuniary interests are deeply involved 
 in this branch of industry, scientific education has 
 fairly advanced among us, and travelhng is almost 
 superfluously easy from one end of the island to the 
 other. Yet how few have knowledge of, or care to in- 
 spect, these great subterranean and submarine work- 
 ings, which bring the hidden wealth of our country to 
 the surface to vivify us with light and heat, to furnish 
 material and machinery for our manufactures, and 
 motive power for every part of the globe ! When we 
 say that this indifference is strange, we use the lightest 
 term that can well be apphed to it. 
 
 According to our present knowledge. Great Britain 
 contains within its scanty area a greater variety and 
 abundance of minerals serving to the uses of man than 
 any other equal space in the world. We do not pro- 
 fess to number the metals we now possess, since 
 modern science, by disclosing the metallic bases of the 
 earths and alkalis, and making known four new metals 
 through the wonderful medium of the spectrum ana- 
 lysis, has swelled the list of these bodies — elementary 
 as we still must call them — to a formidable length. 
 But of those metals and minerals which are worked by 
 mines on a scale commensurate with their value to 
 mankind — ^iron, copper, lead, tin, zinc, coal, rock-salt, 
 &c. — we possess an abundance really marvellous in its 
 concentration on this small island. We do not men- 
 tion gold or silver ; though it may perhaps surprise 
 
MAN AND NATURE. 279 
 
 many of our readers to learn that gold has been found 
 in more than thirty counties of Great Britain and 
 Ireland ; and that by improved metallurgical processes 
 more than 600,000 ounces of silver are annually 
 obtained from the working of our numerous lead- 
 mines.^ 
 
 We must speak but cursorily, and in round num- 
 bers, of the economical value of our greater mines. 
 The official return of their total value, as derived from 
 those of every kind in working last year, gives no less 
 a sum than 36,000,000/. — a cogent proof, drawn from 
 a single small island, of the mastery Man has obtained 
 over the mineral world that hes below his feet. Coal, 
 that astonishing product of an ancient vegetable crea- 
 tion, comes at the head of the estimate. From an area 
 of about 6,000 square miles of coal-fields m Great 
 Britain, and from mines not fewer than 3,000 in num- 
 ber, we at this time draw nearly 90 millions of tons 
 annually, for our own uses and those of the world at 
 large — a consumption increasing every year, as men 
 multiply, and steam and other appliances of heat be- 
 come more necessary to do their service on land and 
 sea. The question has of late been often and urgently 
 asked, how long can our English coal-fields suffice for 
 this vast and augmenting drain upon them ? Calcula- 
 tion has been actively appHed to answer it, but not 
 quite satisfactorily, inasmuch as the estimates have 
 varied from 400 or 500 to nearly 1,000 years.'^ We 
 
 1 The quartz lodes now worked for gold near Dolgelly, in Wales, 
 have produced in some years as much as 5,000 oz. of this metal. Certain 
 veins here have yielded 12 or 14 oz. from a ton of ore. 
 
 ^ We may refer here to a valuable memoir hy Mr. Edward Hull on 
 
280 • MAN AND NATURE. 
 
 the more willingly accept the latter number, as it 
 comes to us justified by the very recent invention of a 
 machine for cutting coal in the mine, which not only 
 executes its work far more speedily and savingly than the 
 human arm, but, what is of far greater moment, gives 
 working access to some of those beds of coal, less than 
 three feet in thickness, which have hitherto been put 
 out of calculation, as incapable of yielding any profit. 
 As these thinner beds generally occupy areas commen- 
 surate with the thicker, the great practical value of 
 such inventions will be readily understood.^ Concur- 
 rently with new methods for economising heat, and 
 possibly with the power of working at stiU. greater 
 depths under the magnesian limestone, they promise to 
 retard greatly the arrival of that time — certain, how- 
 ever, in the end to come — when the coal-beds of Eng- 
 land will be known only as a part of its past history. 
 It is as useless to speculate on the effects of this desti- 
 tution as on the general condition of mankind at the 
 time when it shall arrive. 
 
 Still holding to England for illustration, we pass by 
 a natural step from coal to iron — that wonderful 
 metal, found now as an element in the photosphere of 
 
 the coal resources of Great Britain, published in the ' Quarterly Journal 
 of Science' for January last. Mr. Hull adopts the larger estimate 
 noted above, and justifies it by the statistics of each separate coal-field. 
 
 ^ These coal-cutting machines, with some variations of form, have 
 now, we believe, been profitably applied in two collieries for more than 
 a year. Either steam or condensed air may be used for the engine. In. 
 the former case especially It is coal working directly for its own de- 
 struction. 
 
 We have not spoken above of the three great North American coal- 
 fields, rivalling European kingdoms in extent, as these vast deposits have 
 yet been only very partially broken in upon by the hand of man. 
 
MAN AND NATUEE. 281 
 
 the sun, if not in other more distant stars ; and on our 
 own earth subserving to the purposes and power of 
 Man more largely than any other. The chief function 
 of gold and silver is to represent the value of human 
 commodities in exchange. The great function of iron 
 is as an instrument to create these commodities, and to 
 facilitate and perfect their use. But it would be mere 
 declamation to expatiate here on the value of this 
 metal to mankind. Our business is only to state 
 briefly what England has done, and is yet doing, in 
 raising iron ores from beneath her soil, and giving 
 them by her furnaces and forges those several forms of 
 commercial value which are every day becoming more 
 various and more perfect in adaptation. A short 
 statement, given in round numbers, will best show the 
 progress of this great branch of national industry. In 
 1740, about 17,000 tons of iron were produced in 
 England, from 60 furnaces. In 1808, about 200,000 
 tons; in 1820, about 400,000; in 1827, 690,000 tons, 
 from 284 furnaces. In 1848, nearly two millions of 
 tons, of which more than a quarter were derived from 
 South Wales. The increase has continued, with only 
 transient interruptions, to the present time, when we 
 beheve we may safely rate the amount at more than 
 four and a half million tons of annual produce, to 
 supply our own and the demands of the world — an 
 amount, translated into money, of from ten to twelve 
 miUions sterling. Had we space for statistics we 
 might speak of the great extent of the older iron-fields 
 in South Wales, Staffordshire, Yorkshire, and Scotland ; 
 and of the several recent discoveries of hon ore in 
 
282 MAN AND NATURE. 
 
 Lincolnshire, Somersetshire, Northamptonshire, &c., 
 which enlarge the area of future labours. Or we 
 might dwell upon those happy inventions of the hot- 
 blast, the Bessemer process, the artifices for economis- 
 ing heat (four-fifths of which were wasted in the oLl 
 processes), and the various methods now used for 
 giving higher value and stability to the qualities of this 
 metal for the service of mankind. 
 
 We must touch still more shortly on the other 
 metallic treasures of England — the mines of copper, 
 lead, tin, &c. — important though they all are to our 
 national welfare. The last of these three, however, 
 merits a few words of separate notice. Tin is a metal 
 comparatively rare on the globe ; and in Europe is 
 found in working quantity only in Cornwall, Saxony, 
 and Bohemia ; our English county being far the richest 
 in its produce. The annual average of the metal ob- 
 tained here approaches 8,000 tons ; or about 1,200,000/. 
 of marketable value ; a quantity that does not seem 
 likely to be increased. The history of tin has a certain 
 mystery about it, connected as it is with the story of 
 the Phoenician voyages to these remote coasts; and 
 with the large use of bronze, of which tin is an ingre- 
 dient, not merely in the arts of Greece and Eome, but 
 also in the implements of races of an earlier and ruder 
 time, to whom we can give no name or date, save 
 through these implements of their use. Whence or 
 how did these rude denizens of the Bronze Age, whether 
 in the Cimbric peninsula, in the lacustrine villages of 
 Switzerland, or elsewhere, obtain this metal, so rare 
 and valuable even in our own time ? We know that 
 
MAN AND NATURE. 283 
 
 it was transported in certain quantity from Britain to 
 Italy, across Gaul, by horse -carriage ; but there is no 
 memorial left of these earlier people to show that they 
 had the means either to work mines or to transport to 
 such distances the material gained. The best solution 
 is that afforded by the analogy of tin to gold. The 
 former metal, Hke gold, is found not only in veins with 
 a quartz matrix, but also as a surface deposit under 
 the form known as stream-tin^ the outward interpreter 
 of the wealth below. This probably furnished the 
 metal to earlier ages ; existing then in larger quantity 
 than now and easily obtained ; but, like gold, exhaus- 
 tible in the end as a superficial deposit. As in the case 
 of gold, too, it is uncertain to what depth the tin-ores 
 may be found, even in the primitive veins, which give 
 earliest date to this valuable metal. ^ 
 
 Of our copper and lead mines we do not further 
 speak than by stating that they produce an aggregate 
 revenue approaching to 2,500,000/. annually. Our rock- 
 salt mines deserve some notice, not from their beauty, 
 in which they are far inferior to the mines of Wielitzka 
 and Salzburg, but from their large annual produce, in 
 different forms, of nearly a million tons of salt; and, 
 further, because we have here an illustration of that 
 human activity which is ever discovering fresh material 
 for human uses. Eock-salt has hitherto been explored 
 and worked in Cheshire only. Within the last year a 
 very deep boring for other purposes has disclosed a 
 bed of this most valuable substance in Northumber- 
 
 ^ The ancient mining implements found in Cornwall add to the pro- 
 bability that the old workings for tin there were chiefly superficial. 
 
284 MAN AND NATURE. 
 
 land, affirmed oa good authority to be more than 100 
 feet in thickness. This mineral treasure will not long 
 be suffered to lie dormant. Depth is no obstacle, for 
 the mining genius of our own day has struggled and 
 succeeded wherever the object was worthy of the 
 effort. 
 
 We might here, had we room for it, say much 
 more of these wonderful penetrations into the earth, 
 for the acquisition of that which is so valuable under- 
 neath. It would probably be far below the truth to 
 affirm that the increased power and perfection of 
 machines, and notably of the steam-engine, have 
 quadrupled the mining power of England since the 
 beginning of the century. In the Hartz Mountains 
 and Tyrol two or three particular copper mines had 
 been already carried to a depth exceeding 2,000 feet ; 
 but the workings, carried on chiefly by water-power, 
 were found to be unproductive, even with Government 
 aid. Our machinery, involving an amount of steam- 
 power unknown before, has since distanced all other 
 competition in this branch of industry. The mines of 
 this country, freed from the ingress of water by the 
 constant labour of these vast engines, so perfect as to 
 be almost noiseless in their working, have now reached 
 nearly the same great depth ; and even in some cases 
 been carried far underneath the sea, giving access to 
 veins of ore wholly unapproachable but for these 
 powerful aids to human hands. The case is the same 
 with the great coal mines of England. Not merely are 
 the workings more perfect in every part of their eco- 
 nomy, but by virtue of the machinery in present use 
 
MAN AND NATURE. 285 
 
 they have been carried to greater depths than hereto- 
 fore ; following now in many places the beds of coal 
 as they dip under the niagnesian limestone, and in 
 some instances rivalling the Cornish mines in their 
 extension under the sea. 
 
 The working of the Enghsh coal mines is wonder- 
 ful, not only in the depths reached, but in the vast 
 extent of many of them, and the admirable pro- 
 visions made for tlieir ventilation. In some of the 
 Northumberland collieries — these being earliest in date, 
 as well as most extensive — -the ventilating blast of air 
 forced down one shaft is made to circulate through 
 thirty or forty miles of subterranean workings before 
 emerging again at another. Well might we wish that 
 a better security could thus, or othervvise, be given 
 against those explosions of fire-damp which every 
 year, from casualty or carelessness, offer such fearful 
 records of calamity ! 
 
 The deepest coal mine worked in Great Britain is 
 that of Duckinfield, in Cheshire, reaching 2,050 feet, or 
 more than a third of a mile, in its perpendicular depth. ^ 
 But possibly the nearest approach to the centre of the 
 earth — if we may thus speak of a fractional part 
 hardly exceeding i^^qq of the actual distance — is 
 that of a coal mine close to the sea at Wearmouth, 
 descending, we believe, about 1,800 feet below the 
 sea-level. This depth is recorded not only by the 
 great barometric pressure, but by the increasing tem- 
 
 1 This extraordinary shaft, 12^ feet in diameter, was completed in 
 1858, after a labour of ten years. It reaches a bed of excellent coal, 
 nearly five feet in thickness. 
 
286 MAN AND NATURE. 
 
 perature in coming nearer the central heat of the 
 globe. Here, indeed, we must note one of the most 
 serious obstacles to farther penetration downwards. 
 It is now well known, from observations in mines and 
 artesian wells, that the increase of heat below what 
 may be called the stationary line of temperature is at 
 the rate of 1** of Fahrenheit for every 60 or 65 feet of 
 increasing depth. In several deep copper and coal 
 mines the average heat of the lowest workings reaches 
 80° to 85°; and one instance, in the Poldice Mine, is 
 noted by Mr. Fox, an eminent authority on this sub- 
 ject, where the thermometer rose to nearly 100°, a 
 temperature incompatible with any form of profitable 
 or even possible human labour. 
 
 It may seem a small matter to speculate upon, and 
 yet when speaking of changes effected on the earth by 
 human action we cannot discard the effects of forty or 
 fifty million tons of coal bm'nt every year upon the 
 English soil on which we are living. It is the transla- 
 tion, from within the earth to without^ of this enormous 
 amount of carbonaceous matter, with its various che- 
 mical adjuncts. Though not well able to say how all 
 this is disposed of in its various later combinations, we 
 may at least afiirm that a substance like carbon, so 
 large a constituent of life in all its forms, and Jiaving 
 such endless relations to other chemical elements, can- 
 not be wholly inert in the addition it thus makes to the 
 surface without. This is one of the cases where 
 eventual effects may differ from, and go beyond, those 
 more directly obvious to the eye. 
 
 Such is a mere outline of the changes, taking our 
 
MAN AND NATUEE. 287 
 
 own country as the example, which man, as a miner, 
 is bringing about on the earth. A still stronger im- 
 press of genius and power is that which is presented 
 by the great railways which now so largely traverse its 
 surface; and by the tunnels, embankments, viaducts, 
 and bridges which contribute to this vast scheme of 
 human intercommunication. Though a generation has 
 scarcely passed by since these works were begun, they 
 are already so familiar to us, that we lose the full 
 sense of their grandeur, and of all they denote of pro- 
 gress in the condition of mankind. Yet how strange 
 the alteration, even to the eye, in the aspect of a 
 country traversed and intersected by these lines of 
 iron-road — vacant and still at one moment, a minute 
 afterwards giving passage to a train, rushing along at 
 the rate of thirty, forty, or fifty miles in the hour, 
 laden with human beings and the commodities of the 
 world. We know no spectacle more striking — ap- 
 palling we might almost call it — than that of an 
 express train thus sweeping by in its course. Accus- 
 tomed as we are to see traction performed by animal 
 labour, there is a peculiar strangeness in witnessing 
 this wonderful trick done without any agent obvious to 
 the eye. We know that the power is in the loco- 
 motive, but the mode of action is unseen, and to most 
 people unknown. 
 
 It would be needless to dwell on those statistical 
 facts relating to railroads, in England and elsewhere, 
 which are every year pressed upon us in larger figures 
 and more ample details — the amount of capital invested, 
 the length of roads made, the number of miles run, the 
 
288 MAN AND NATURE. 
 
 number of passengers and tonnage of goods conveyed, 
 and the gross and net profits of the whole. But we 
 may well look for a moment at some of those astonish- 
 ing works to which we have alluded, as created by this 
 change in the locomotion of the world — ^works in 
 which man has attained a higher mastery over nature 
 than even the boldest imagination ever before sug- 
 gested. Take bridges as an example. In our own 
 boyhood we were shown the iron arch over the Wear, 
 at Sunderland, as one of the wonders of England — a 
 structure which the modern tourist would hardly halt 
 to look upon. The suspension bridge over the Menai 
 came next ; a bold and beautiful work, but adapted 
 only to the old system of mail-coach roads. With the 
 invention of the railway and steam locomotion came 
 the tubular bridge over the same strait, a work of less 
 beauty, but more wonderful in its dimensions, and in 
 the new and singular principle of construction due to 
 Mr. Pairbairn, of which it was the first example. Its 
 success emboldened Mr. Stephenson to undertake that 
 far greater work, the tubular bridge of Montreal, little 
 less than two miles in length, and stretching across the 
 wide waters of the St. Lawrence, hardly yet calmed 
 from their rush down the rapids of Lachine. As a 
 monument of grand engineering this bridge is not 
 likely to be surpassed — the less likely as its benefit to 
 the shareholders is far from being commensurate to 
 the cost. Another triumph of human power on the 
 same river is the suspension railway bridge of Niagara, 
 scarcely two miles below the Great Falls, where the 
 St. Lawrence, rushing impetuously, rather than flowing. 
 
MAN AND NATUEE. 289 
 
 through a deep ravine, is spanned over in mid-air by 
 this bridge, uniting the dominions of Canada and the 
 United States. In another and distant region of Eng- 
 land's power, the East Indian railways show some 
 works of this kind (as the great bridge across the 
 Jumna) almost rivalling those of the Western World. 
 
 Look further at those admirable constructions, both 
 in Europe and America, by which the railroad is carried 
 across mountain chains, climbing tortuously their steep 
 acclivities, or forced by tunnels through the rock. In 
 the Copiapo Eailway of Chili, the locomotive carries 
 its train 4,070 feet above the sea. In the several rail- 
 roads which cross the Alleghany Mountains the summit- 
 levels are from 2,000 to 3,000 feet. The new Empire 
 of Brazil boasts a work of similar kind, just completed. 
 In the section, now open, of the St. Ander railroad, in 
 Spain, an elevation is reached of 2,524 feet. The Som- 
 mering Pass, between Vienna and Gratz, carries the 
 traveller 3,000 feet above the sea. Tunnels from two 
 to three miles in length are familiar to us in England 
 and elsewhere. That which is now in progress under 
 Mont Cenis has for its object and ambition to win a 
 passage into Italy without crossing the Alps. To the 
 modem engineer the phrase of the poet — 
 
 Opposiiit natura Alpemque nivemque — 
 
 comes as an incentive rather than an admonition. It 
 is probable that this object will eventually be accom- 
 plished. But is it worth the accomplishment? We, 
 as old Italian travellers, think not. We can hardly 
 desire, indeed, to fall back upon the time when car- 
 
 u 
 
290 MAN AND NATURE. 
 
 riages were taken to pieces for a passage over these 
 mountains. But, on the other hand, we do not desire 
 to exchange the grandeur of a great Alpine pass, and 
 those glories of the first view of Italy which gave exul- 
 tation to Hannibal and his army, for the sullen dark- 
 ness of a tunnel, distinguishable in nothing but its 
 wearisome length from those of our English midland 
 counties. The engineer gains a lasting fame from his 
 work. The traveller gains a few hours of time upon his 
 journey, and emerges into Italy through a hole in a 
 rock ! 
 
 It may seem ungracious, as well as irrational, to 
 throw even a shade of doubt on the advantages which 
 railways have rendered to mankind. The magnitude of 
 the benefits derived from this great conquest over time 
 and space in the natural world is too obvious to be seri- 
 ously impugned. Commerce, manufactures, and agri- 
 culture gain universally by the change effected ; and 
 the social relations of mankind are enlarged at least, 
 and perhaps improved. But we must admit some few 
 qualifications to this high estimate. Even the traveller 
 does not gain his good without alloy. We quit our 
 homes to see and learn — to gain fresh health and en- 
 joyment — often, it must be owned, to follow fashion or 
 relieve ennui. For all these objects the railway affords 
 facihties before unknown, but almost too great for the 
 worthiest purposes of travel. European tourists, now 
 in number legion^ are hurried from place to place with 
 unwholesome and unprofitable speed — the slaves of 
 trains and time-tables, and imbued with more vivid 
 recollections of stations and crowded hotels than of 
 
MAN AND NATURE. 291 
 
 countries traversed and cities passed througli. In many 
 persons, it must be added, a habit of restless burry and 
 love of change is thus engendered, injurious in other 
 ways to the well-being of life. These, however, we 
 admit to be exceptional evils, and name them only as 
 such. We are bound to be thankful for inventions of 
 human genius which can carry us in a short day from 
 metropolitan streets and offices to mountains, lakes, 
 and waterfalls ; which bring Mont Blanc and Eome 
 within a month's holiday; and enable the scientific 
 traveller to reach the scene of his labours with less 
 exhaustion of the various appliances of research. 
 
 The electric telegraph, that close associate and 
 guardian of the railway, has not made such marked 
 changes on the outer face of the earth, but may, never- 
 theless, be mentioned here, as the most marvellous 
 example of the dominion Man has gained over one of 
 the great elements of nature — an element, moreover, 
 scarcely known as such one hundred and fifty years 
 ago. The power we exercise over heat and hght, over 
 chemical and mechanical forces, is limited in space. 
 The electric current — or what, in default of better 
 knowledge, we denominate such — is made to career, 
 with speed hardly translatable into numbers, over 
 continents and underneath seas, performing the behests 
 of man in social life, in commerce, in peace, and in 
 war. It is the very element of lightning — the vis 
 flammea coeli — converted into a messenger, or even, by 
 more recent inventions, into a disciplined writer of 
 human thought and language. We might bring in 
 some qualifications here also as to the utility of tliis 
 
 u 2 
 
292 MAN AND NATURE. 
 
 new agent of human intercourse, but our space pre- 
 vents us saying more of what must doubtless be 
 counted the most wonderful discovery of our own 
 time. 
 
 Canals, though of high antiquity as an invention 
 for transport, have been in great measure superseded 
 by railways. Yet there are two works of this kind — 
 one in contemplation, the otlier partially effected — 
 which derive interest from their magnitude, and from 
 their connexion with the new dominion which steam 
 has given to man over the oceans of the globe. If the 
 Atlantic be ever united to the Pacific, and the Mediter- 
 ranean to the Eed Sea and Indian Ocean, by ship- 
 canals, all will be done that can be done to give speed 
 and certainty to the great circuits of intercourse round 
 the globe. We offer no present opinion on the much- 
 disputed matter of the Suez Canal. Even if successful 
 as a navigable passage across the Isthmus, there yet 
 remains the question of profitable return — one embra- 
 cing too many contingencies to be settled by anticipa- 
 tion. A few years will determine both these points 
 now standing at issue. 
 
 We have thus spoken of the influence of Man on 
 earth as a miner, mechanician, and engineer. But we 
 cannot quit this topic of his relations to the material 
 world, and the forces which rule or reside in it, with- 
 out speaking of him also as the chemist of the hving 
 creation — and this in the largest sense which modern 
 science has given to a word so small in its original 
 meaning. He does not, indeed, as such, change the 
 outward aspects of the earth, or govern the natural 
 
MAN AND NATURE. 293 
 
 phenomena to which its surface is subjected. Here, as 
 we have elsewhere explained in speaking of climate, 
 the great chemistry of nature comes into play. Nor 
 has he yet gone far below the surface into the chemistry 
 of life — that mystery of organisation by which vitality 
 is given, and its acts and instincts are carried on. But 
 though there is yet much beyond his reach, chemistry 
 in the hands of Man is one of the highest labours of 
 the human intellect. It becomes the interpreter of 
 nature and natural laws — a science through the re- 
 sources of which he not only analyses the endless exist- 
 ing forms of matter, but under the guidance of laws 
 almost as well-defined as those which govern the plane- 
 tary motions, creates numerous new and energetic 
 compounds, which, as far as we know, have no proto- 
 type elsewhere in creation. This progress of Man in 
 the great province of scientific chemistry is indeed of 
 very recent date, and we can yet hardly discern all its 
 issues. But enough has already been done to show 
 how much of future power will be gained from this 
 source over the material elements around him. No 
 field of discovery can be more fruitful in prospect, 
 enlarged as it is by connexions, ever becoming closer, 
 with all other departments of physical science. 
 
 We have hitherto, in prosecution of our subject, 
 been chiefly occupied with the outline of what Man 
 has effected by his action on the inanimate world. An 
 outline it may well be called, for how impossible to 
 describe those complex connexions which exist between 
 human life and the forces to which this life is subjected ! 
 
294 MAN AND NATURE. 
 
 We have now to speak of the relations of Man to the 
 Hving world by which he is surrounded. This topic, 
 vast in itself, admits of being treated either as a matter 
 of profound philosophy, or as one of close practical 
 concern to mankind — in this resembling many other 
 questions which modern science places before us. The 
 speculative part is that which regards the intention of 
 the Creator, in bringing Man into this close conjunction 
 with other forms of life, endless in number, infinite in 
 variety. This question, hardly to be answered by any 
 philosophy, touches us more nearly when limited to the 
 animal creation only. We have already alluded to the 
 controversies now going on as to the origin of species, 
 or more generally of the different types of animal life ; 
 and as to the true nature of that ascending scale in 
 which Man holds the highest place. And connected 
 with these controversies comes in the great problem of 
 animal hfe existing under forms of wonderful variety, 
 and during periods of time vast beyond all esti- 
 mate, before human hfe was blended in the series, and 
 seemingly without any reference to this consumma- 
 tion. 
 
 The most general expression of the connexion of 
 which we are speaking is that drawn from the law 
 common to all parts of the animal creation ; viz., 
 life maintaining itself upon life — one form of organisa- 
 tion ministering to the existence of another. This is 
 the link that binds together species counted by hundreds 
 of thousands, and individualities of being which no 
 numbers can approach. To this law, by the physical 
 necessities of his nature, Man is equally subjected with 
 
MAN AND NATURE. 295 
 
 the inferior creatures which surround him. While 
 ruhng in the animal world, he is at the same time de- 
 pendent upon it — not for food and clothing only, for 
 labour and for transport, but in a thousand other ways 
 for the necessities, conveniences, and luxuries of life. 
 It is needless to illustrate by details a matter so famihar, 
 yet seldom perhaps understood to its full extent. Taking 
 singly the objects which are around us in our own 
 homes, we find few that have not been the product of 
 Hving nature before being fashioned to human piu:poses. 
 The original organisation is sometimes preserved, often 
 changed by art ; but still it is the dependence of Man 
 upon organised existence without. Civilised life is 
 mainly contrasted with savage, in the larger and more 
 skilful appropriation of all that the living world offers 
 to our use. 
 
 This large ministration of other parts of the crea- 
 tion to Man gives us no proof whatever that they were 
 created in sole reference to him. It is impossible to 
 regard the multitudinous forms of hfe — animal and 
 vegetable, fossil or existing — which by no inference can 
 be brought into connexion with the human being, 
 without the conviction that some other great purposes 
 have been intended and fulfilled in this wide and diver- 
 sified creation. We cannot reach, or even approach, 
 these purposes by our reason ; but this inability in no 
 wise impairs the force of the conclusion. Wliether the 
 production of hfe in its various forms and successions 
 has been by operation of more general laws, or by 
 special and repeated acts of creation, equally is there 
 manifest and wonderful design in the whole ; and de- 
 
296 MAN AND NATURE. 
 
 sign of which Man cannot be the single object, even if 
 he be the final termination of the series. 
 
 The modes through which Man exercises his power 
 over the animal and vegetable life of the earth we may 
 briefly denote as being either by culture and augmenta- 
 tion, or by extirpation, or by transference of species 
 from one region to another. Many examples of these 
 modes of action will at once be obvious. But there are 
 others not equally familiar, though very important to the 
 well-being of mankind ; and connected with that phe- 
 nomenon of high interest in the economy of the globe, 
 viz., the local apportionment of genera and species, 
 and even of certain types of life, to particular portions 
 of its surface. Without speaking of the many curious 
 and inexplicable cases of limitation of species to a 
 single spot, we may cite a few general facts in illustra- 
 tion, such as that of the Cactaceae being peculiar to the 
 New World, the heaths to the Old ; that no rose has 
 been found in the Southern hemisphere, no oak tree or 
 wild apple in the vast regions of Siberia from the Tobol 
 to the Amour ; that the salmon, existing around the globe 
 in certain latitudes of our hemisphere, is nowhere found 
 in the Southern, &c. This singular distribution of the 
 forms of life (original we may call it, as far as Man's 
 existence is concerned) has furnished problems of 
 equal and similar interest to the zoologist and botanist, 
 with a further appeal to the geologist in seeking for 
 their solution. But long before speculation had been 
 directed to these local diversities or provinces of life 
 on the earth, practical changes \vere already in opera- 
 tion, in the transference from one region to another, 
 
MAN AND NATURE. 297 
 
 not merely of the products of animal and vegetable 
 growth, but in many cases of tlie animals and plants 
 producing them. "We shall speedily notice some of 
 the more striking examples of this ; saying a few 
 words meanwhile on the other modes in which Man ex- 
 ercises influence on the amount and physical characters 
 of the hving world around him. 
 
 We have already, indeed, following our author's 
 propositions, spoken of this influence as applied to 
 the forests of different continents and countries ; and 
 need not recur to this topic further than by noting how 
 much has been done, and may yet be done, by multi- 
 plying particular trees and plants, in special soils and 
 for special objects. The forest trees, on the large scale, 
 are left to shift for themselves ; but the mulberry, the 
 olive, the vine, the orange, the cacao, and many others, 
 require and receive more of human culture and selec- 
 tion to aid their increase and ameliorate their produce. 
 The same may be said generally of all fruits and escu- 
 lent vegetables. We find in Gerard's ' Herbal ' (1596) 
 the names of several plants now not seen in our English 
 fields or gardens. Those which remain are multiplied 
 and their varieties selected for culture in proportion to 
 their value ; while of plants that are useless or noxious 
 the extirpation is carried on as far as nature permits 
 it, and most largely in countries well peopled and 
 advanced in civihsation. 
 
 As with the vegetable so with the animal world. 
 Man can rarely extirpate a species, though natural 
 causes sometimes do so ; and on a vast scale, if we 
 take prior ages and fossil species into account. But he 
 
298 MAN AND NATURE. 
 
 can often succeed in greatly reducing the number, or 
 removing altogether from a particular region those 
 which are injurious to him. Bears, wolves, and wild 
 boars have all been extirpated in England by direct 
 destruction. The bear ranged our forests in the time of 
 the first Norman kings. The wolf and the wild boar 
 were known in Great Britain at a much later date. The 
 crane, the bustard, the bittern have disappeared from 
 our Eastern counties, but more in effect of advancing 
 cultivation than of any direct agency of Man. Such 
 changes or extirpations are, of course, less frequent in 
 countries thinly peopled and in the rear of civilisation ; 
 yet instances of the kind, and seemingly of recent date, 
 have occurred in New Zealand and other islands of the 
 great Southern Ocean. 
 
 The tropical forests, jungles, and plains will probably 
 long retain their carnivora and pachydermatous species ; 
 which nevertheless, and despite the uses derived from 
 some of them, are diminishing in number, and will pro- 
 bably in the end disappear under the encroachments of 
 Man, and the more certain and deadly weapons he now 
 employs. Whether species, either animal or vegetable, 
 can ever become extinct by mere lapse of time, and 
 changes producing default in the propagating power, 
 is a deeper question, which cannot be answered upon 
 any knowledge we now possess. 
 
 The power of Man to augment the amount of ani- 
 mal life in such species as are necessary or convenient 
 to him, is too familiar to need much illustration. There 
 is, of course, a limit which nature in every different 
 country imposes on this power, either by climate, soil. 
 
MAN AND NATURE. 299 
 
 or other causes affecting the supply of food. But the 
 history of our domestic breeds, and of agriculture as 
 connected with them, shows how far human influence 
 extends in making one part of nature subservient to 
 another, and all minister to Man's wants or pleasures. 
 The effects of selection, guided by reason and expe- 
 rience, in the breeding of animals, are even more 
 striking than as applied to the vegetable kingdom. 
 We here obtain qualities and aptitudes for use, not 
 only far exceeding, but often very different from, those 
 which belong to the primitive stock. The natural in- 
 stincts of animals are moulded into new modes of 
 action ; and in the case of those most largely endowed 
 with intelligence and moral affections (and, however 
 we may define these faculties, who can doubt their 
 presence in the dog, the elephant, the horse, and many 
 other animals ?) human intelligence is still more 
 curiously occupied in bringing them into action and 
 adaptation. We may remark, in passing, on the 
 singular anomaly that the animal nearest akin to the 
 human being in structure and faculties should be 
 amongst those most alien to him in every matter of 
 mutual relation and dependence. Whatever explana- 
 tion we may give of it, we have the fact before us that 
 the anthropoid apes, and the quadrumana generally, 
 are more detached from Man in the conditions of life 
 than many far more remote from him in the scale of 
 being. Eemove them from our menageries and street- 
 organs, and these creatures, the strange mimics of 
 humanity, would scarcely be known to the civilised 
 world save by the narrative of the tropical traveller, 
 
300 MAN AND NATURE. 
 
 and by the place they occupy in the classification of 
 the zoologist. But this place is so defined as ever to 
 render them objects of deep interest, and of curious 
 though not pleasant speculation to our reason. 
 
 The most remarkable examples of numerical in- 
 crease in species occur in those new countries to which 
 Man has transported the animals valuable to him for 
 domestic uses. In the vast regions west of the 
 AUeghanies, in the Pampas of South America, and in 
 the new world of Australia, the multiplication of these 
 animals — of the horse, cattle, sheep, and swine — has 
 been on a scale more than commensurate with that of 
 human population. Eevelling in their wide and un- 
 fenced domains, severally more spacious than European 
 kingdoms, and breeding there with unwonted rapidity, 
 some of these animals have even relapsed into the wild 
 state, and become again the prey of the hunter. 
 Everywhere they not merely aid the growth of popu- 
 lation on the spot, but yield large material for export 
 to the very countries from which their own races were 
 derived. 
 
 And this leads us to speak of that power, which 
 Man has so extensively used, of making one region of 
 the globe minister to another, not solely through the 
 products of animal and vegetable life, but by local ex- 
 change of the animals and plants producing them. 
 This forms an extraordinary chapter in the natural 
 history of the earth, and one that deserves to be more 
 carefully read than it is. We must note, however, in 
 the outset, that this transport and exchange is not due 
 to Man alone, but, in the case of plants more espe- 
 
MAN AND NATURE. 301 
 
 cially, has been brought about by animals far below 
 him in the scale of being ; wliich, unconsciously and 
 sometimes injuriously to themselves, have carried the 
 seeds and germs of life from one region to another. 
 \Vhat they have done by the mere instincts or acci- 
 dents of existence human intelligence has effected with 
 special interests and larger power. The record of 
 such exchanges would in itself fill a volume. We can 
 notice only a few of the more striking instances. 
 
 The most remarkable, doubtless, is that which has 
 taken place between the continents of the Old World 
 and those across the Atlantic, which, though peopled 
 before, and by some semi-civilised races, yet came to 
 us as the discovery and conquest of a new world. 
 The balance of exchange here, as might be expected, 
 has been signally in favour of the latter. Even those 
 four articles — cotton, sugar, rice, and coffee — the ex- 
 port of which from America forms so large a part of 
 the commerce of the globe, are all derived from plants 
 originally carried thither by Europeans, and readily 
 propagated, where such diversity and extent of virgin 
 land was offered to their growth. To these more 
 tropical plants must be added the different varieties of 
 cereal grain, hemp, flax, clover, and other herbage, 
 now as thoroughly accHmatised in America as in 
 Europe. We have to set down something, however, 
 to the other side of the account. Of vegetable pro- 
 ducts America has given to the Old World the potato, 
 tobacco, and maize, besides several others of lesser 
 value. Looking singly to that remarkable root, the 
 potato, how great has been its influence, as an article 
 
302 MAN AND NATUEE. 
 
 of food, in multiplying largely in certain countries tlie 
 amount of human life ! Ireland is now paying back to 
 America, under the form of emigrants, some part of 
 that excess of population due to the exuberant culture 
 of the potato on Irish soil. Tobacco, that strange 
 herb, which, unknown to all former ages, has now be- 
 come so general a luxury or almost necessity to man- 
 kind, may perhaps be deemed a more doubtful benefit. 
 Mr. Marsh, somewhat unexpectedly in an American 
 writer, utters as vehement a counter-blast against it as 
 did our own King James : — 
 
 I wish I could heHeve with some that America is not 
 alone responsible for the introduction of that filthy weed, 
 tobacco, the use of which is the most vulgar and pernicious 
 habit engrafted by the semi-barbarians of modern civilisation 
 upon the less multifarious sensualism of ancient life. But the 
 alleged occurrence of pipe-like objects in Sclavonic and, it has 
 been said, in Hungarian sepulchres, is hardly sufficient evidence 
 to convict those races of complicity in this grave, offence 
 against the temperance and refinement of modern society. 
 
 Though it is not our business to argue the matter 
 here, we may remark that this angry invective is justi- 
 fied in relation to excess only. The question is really 
 one of use or abuse, as in regard to every article of 
 ordinary diet, and very especially in relation to wine 
 and other alcoholic liquors. Any allowance granted 
 to a temperate use of these may at least as faij"ly and 
 safely be conceded to tobacco, and even with some 
 specialties in favour of the latter. 
 
 We have given largely also to America of our 
 vegetables of culinary use. For most of these, indeed, 
 as improved from their original wild state, England is 
 
MAN AND NATURE. 303 
 
 itself indebted to the European continent. Until the 
 reign of Elizabeth our gardens were very scantily pro- 
 vided, and with varieties far inferior to those we owe to 
 a more select and careful culture. Exchanges of this 
 kind must have gone on in all the old countries from 
 unrecorded times. Europe is indebted to Asia for some 
 of her finest fruits — the orange, the peach, &c. — all ad- 
 vanced in perfection as well as variety when becoming 
 the objects of profitable or luxurious cultivation. In 
 some instances, but not often, we can go back to the 
 wild original stocks upon which Man has grafted by 
 degrees the various perfections of his modern orchards 
 and gardens, as well as the larger cereal products of his 
 fields. 
 
 Not less remarkable than these exchanges in the 
 vegetable world are those of animal life similarly 
 efiected. Eecurring to America as an example, we 
 find this new continent indebted to the old one for all 
 the mammaha most valuable to mankind — the horse, 
 the cow, the sheep, the ass, the pig, the goat — some 
 of these, as already mentioned, multiplying on their 
 new soil almost beyond human control. As an illus- 
 tration the fact is worthy of notice that at the time of 
 the discovery of America the milk of animals was 
 unknown there as an article of human food. It is no 
 injurious satire upon the European, as the chief emi- 
 grant to the New World, to ask what would have been 
 the present condition of America had these animals 
 not accompanied him thither ? We may fairly assert 
 that a century would hardly have sufficed to represent 
 the actual progress of any ten years of the intervening 
 
304 MAN AND NATURE. 
 
 time. Some more ambiguous gifts, it is true — as the 
 rat, the mouse, the Hessian fly, &c. — have been carried 
 in man's train, unconsciously to himself; while to repay 
 these inflictions America has recently bestowed upon 
 us a water-weed, which chokes many of our canals and 
 smaller streams by its rapid and irrepressible growth. 
 
 Though with less present magnitude of results, all 
 we have said of human agency in the peopling of 
 America with new animals and plants is still more 
 strikingly exemplified in the yet newer continent of 
 Australia. This insulated region, before it began under 
 the auspices of England its rapid career towards 
 Southern empire, presented to the naturalist anomalies 
 so strange and perplexing as well to justify the expres- 
 sion of Cuvier, that it seemed like * a portion struck off 
 from some other planet.' With slender affinity even 
 in the types of animal and vegetable life, all particular 
 species, with scarcely an exception, differed from those 
 of the older world, and not a single animal existed 
 there capable of being usefully domesticated. During 
 the seventy-six years which have elapsed since English 
 enterprise first directed itself to Australia, the face of 
 the colonised part of this country has undergone a 
 change marvellous in kind and degree. English trees, 
 fruits, cereals, and grasses, despite the inversion of 
 seasons in the transit, have flourished and propagated 
 abundantly in their new abod« ; while the variety of 
 climate in this great Southern land has allowed the 
 introduction of several tropical plants, promising much 
 to its future prosperity. Mr. Marsh asserts, in one 
 passage of his book, that the wild plant is much hardier 
 
MAN AND NATURE. 305 
 
 than the domesticated vegetable. This statement, we 
 believe, requires a good deal of qualification. If we 
 are rightly informed, it is contradicted by various facts 
 derived from those Southern colonies of which we are 
 now speaking. The native wild grasses of New Zea- 
 land are said to have been extruded when brought 
 into contact with the artificial grasses imported from 
 Europe ; and analogies may be drawn from the animal 
 kingdom to show that culture and selection are capable 
 of giving increase of vigour, as well as those other 
 quahties to which they are often more especially 
 directed. 
 
 All the domestic animals we have named as given 
 to America fi:om the Old World, with many others — 
 birds as well as quadrupeds — have been brought into 
 these great colonies ; and the sheep-farming in Aus- 
 tralia is becoming, if not so already, the largest in the 
 world. The silkworm, the salmon, and the sparrow 
 are to be considered, we believe, as the most recent 
 attempted acquisitions to their fauna ; the latter in its 
 valuable capacity as an insectivorous bird. As regards 
 the silkworm, and its needful appendage the mulberry- 
 tree, we consider their successful introduction into 
 Queensland and other colonies to be almost certain. 
 The effort to bring the salmon into the Australian 
 rivers is yet of uncertain result, but the object has 
 been assiduously and skilfully pursued ; and success is 
 well deserved, whether obtained or not. The Accli- 
 matisation Societies of England and France are working 
 actively at this time in promoting these exchanges of 
 animal life over the globe. 
 
 X 
 
30G MAN AND NATURE. 
 
 As we have so often had occasion to cite England 
 in illustration of the various subjects of this article, 
 we are tempted to conclude it by some slight sketch 
 of the contrast this island presents in its actual state 
 with its condition as we have it pictured to us at 
 different periods since the Conquest. For a mere out- 
 line the materials must be taken thus generally ; but it 
 would well repay a special labour to fill up the picture 
 as far as possible for particular intervening periods, 
 bringing them severally into this comparison. 
 
 Sir Francis Palgrave, in the concluding volume of 
 his Norman History, has described the condition of 
 England under the last of her Saxon Kings with some- 
 thing of that ingenuity and power which shine so 
 conspicuously in Lord Macaulay's celebrated chapter 
 on the state of the country in the seventeenth century. 
 At the time of the Conquest, and during the reigns of 
 the early Norman kings, little less than one-third of 
 England was covered with woods, and a still larger 
 part showed a surface only of heath, mountain-moors, 
 marshes, and sea-fens. The small part left for arable 
 uses and pasture sufficed nevertheless for the scanty 
 population of the country, which at that period was 
 probably less than three millions for the whole island. 
 The old English forests are numerously perpetuated by 
 name, even where they no longer exist as such. They 
 were at that time, as we have stated, tenanted by the 
 wild boar, by bears and wolves. The tribute paid to 
 the king in wolves' heads did not prevent the ravages 
 of this animal even near to London, and in remoter 
 parts many centuries later. The beaver then built his 
 
MAN A2sD NATURE. 307 
 
 habitation in many of our streams, as is testified by 
 local names and other records — a more skilful archi- 
 tect probably than the human builders on their banks. 
 The barren heaths, of which portions are still left, then 
 circled widely around the metropohs, dangerous to the 
 traveller even within a century of our own day. Sea- 
 marshes and fens spread to great length upon the 
 Eastern coast, and far into the interior of the country. 
 A part of the scanty rental of these fenny districts was 
 paid in eels. They abounded in cranes, bitterns, &c., 
 which disappeared but a short time before the present 
 generation. When that freespoken monarch Henry 
 VIII. described Lincolnshire as ' the most brute and 
 beastly shire of all my realm,' he probably pictured 
 fairly enough for his day what is now one of the most 
 prosperous and fertile of our English counties. Even 
 the outline of this Eastern coast was once very different 
 from the present — an estuary of the sea running up to 
 Norwich, and a wide channel separating Thanet from 
 the mainland of Kent. 
 
 It is difficult to draw any comparison as to cHmate 
 where we possess no instrumental records of tempera- 
 ture, rains, winds, and other atmospheric states. From 
 various incidental notices Sir F. Palgrave has drawn 
 the conclusion that, at the era of the Conquest, it more 
 resembled the chmate of Canada in its extremes of heat 
 and cold. The vineyards of Somersetshire, and the 
 notices of perpetual snow on the summit of the higher 
 hills, afford some evidence to this effect; while the 
 large proportion of forest covering the island gives 
 plausible reason for its being so. 
 
 X 2 
 
308 MAN AXD NATURE. 
 
 The outward aspect of all that belongs to social life 
 and habitation was in these early centuries rudely 
 simple. The baronial mansions or castles frowned over 
 the miserable villages or huts which lay around them. 
 The grades in society were then few ; and the passage 
 an abrupt one from the feudal lord to the mere serf of 
 the soil. Yet we must note here one strange anomaly 
 of this period, viz., the earliest erections of those 
 wonderful cathedrals which still excite the admiration, 
 if not the envy, of the architectural science of our 
 own day. There is something of mystery as well as 
 anomaly in this matter, which has not hitherto 
 been adequately explained. History, revelling in its 
 record of battles and sieges, is wellnigh silent as 
 to these better and more lasting triumphs of human 
 power. 
 
 The country at large was nearly destitute of any 
 other than rude lanes and little less rude highways, on 
 which, but two centuries ago, a four-horse carriage 
 could hardly accomplish in a day the distance which a 
 railway-carriage now sweeps over in a single hour. 
 The provision for travelling on horseback was of better 
 kind ; and we have the records of many extraordinary 
 journeys thus performed ; such as the night's ride of 
 Henry II. from London to Dover, with the incident of 
 an .eclipse of the moon on his way ; the sixty hours' 
 ride of Sir Kobert Carey from London to Edinburgh, 
 to announce to James the death of Elizabeth ; and the 
 still more rapid communication by horse-messengers 
 between Charles I., when at York in 1642, and the 
 Parliament in London. The general state of travelling 
 
MAIS' AND NATURE. 309 
 
 throughi England at the time of Hs history is excel- 
 lently described by Lord Macaulay ; and to his third 
 chapter we would willingly refer our readers for all 
 that further concerns the physical and social condition 
 of the country at this period, and for a very striking 
 picture of the contrast it presents with the England 
 of our own day. Such contrast is the stronger, of 
 course, when made with those earher times of our 
 history of which we have spoken. 
 
 We the rather make this reference, as no sufficient 
 space is left to us here to dwell upon the present 
 aspect of England in comparison with the past. In 
 the preceding parts of this article we have, indeed, said 
 much to illustrate it, and to suggest those modes of 
 viewing the subject which may enable our readers to 
 fill up the picture for themselves. It is, in truth, a 
 wonderful picture of human progress — of progress 
 continuous, yet so marvellously quickened during the 
 last fifty years, that the dullest observer of the world 
 around him feels that he is living in a new age ; and 
 the most cautious philosopher scarcely ventures to set 
 a limit to what may hereafter be attained. While the 
 instincts and acts of other animals have remained 
 stationary from the earliest recorded time, human in- 
 telligence, working with, and in part controlhng, the 
 great forces of nature, has covered the globe with 
 monuments of its activity and power. The whole may 
 be received as evidence of the high destiny which God 
 has given to man on the earth — -a destiny mingled at 
 present with much that is obscure to reason and pain- 
 ful to feeling, but capable of and intended, as we 
 
310 MAN AND NATURE. 
 
 believe, for some higher and nobler development in 
 the time yet to come. 
 
 Here, then, we bring to a close the summary view 
 of a subject which might worthily occupy a much 
 larger space. While adopting the suggestion of Mr. 
 Marsh's title, we have in no way followed him in the 
 method or details of his work. We think the outhne 
 we have given better fitted to convey to the reader a 
 just idea of the nature and interest of the subject, and 
 to suggest a more scientific and useful manner of pur- 
 suing it. A right method, important in every case, is 
 especially needful where the details are thus endless 
 in number, yet very different in import and value. If 
 in any future edition of his work Mr. Marsh should be 
 led to re-arrange, as well as enlarge, the materials in 
 his hands, it will be satisfactory to us to believe that 
 we may have contributed in part to this good result. 
 
311 
 
 LAUGEVS PROBLEMS OF NATURE AND 
 LIFE> 
 
 [CoNTBIBrTED TO THE ' EdINBUEGH EeVIETV' IN IS?!.] 
 
 In this Revieio will he found several extracts from the Papers published 
 in the earlier part of this volume. The Editor has thought it best to retain 
 the duplicate passages rather than to recast or omit the essays in question. 
 
 The volumes we have placed at the head of this article 
 are connected, not solely as works of the same author, 
 but as containing, in their series and several subjects, a 
 general view of the physical science of our time, in the 
 most advanced stages of its progress. The position of 
 M. Laugel as private secretary to the Due d'Aumale — 
 a prince whose learning and many accomplishments, 
 even more than his birth, have given him merited repu- 
 tation in the country of his exile — may be recognised 
 as favourable in various ways to a work of this nature. 
 A Frenchman, and intimate with all that is best in the 
 science and literature of France, his quiet residence 
 at Eichmond and familiarity with English institutions 
 have afforded M. Laugel facihties for portraying modern 
 science in its largest aspects, and under those connexions 
 
 1 Science et Philosophic. Par M. Aug. Laugel, ancien ^le?e de 
 I'Ecole Polyteclinique, ex-Ing^nieur des Mines. 12mo. Paris : 1863. 
 
 Lea ProbUmes de la Nature. Par Auguste Laugel. 12mo. Paris : 
 1864. 
 
 Les Prohlhnes de la Vie. Par Auguste Laugel. 12mo. Paris : 
 X867. 
 
312 laugel's problems of nature and life. 
 
 which now more than ever tend to give it unity as 
 a whole. He is not, we beheve, himself a practical 
 labourer in the field. If this be a disadvantage, there 
 is some compensation for it in the larger and more im- 
 partial scope given to that intelligence which seeks to 
 combine elements of knowledge separate in their ear- 
 lier growth, but now claiming to be blended by higher 
 generalisations. Our author stands fully on a level 
 with the scientific acquirements of his 'time, as well 
 as with those doctrines and speculations which have 
 recently grown out of them. In truth, he everywhere 
 shows himself disposed to adopt the latter in their 
 extremest form. Whether from natural temperament 
 of mind (a powerful agent even in the acceptance of 
 scientific evidence), or from other causes, he boldly 
 confronts, and handles without reserve, all older and 
 more orthodox opinions on the great questions he 
 approaches. The volumes before us, small in size as 
 books, while thus large and bold in scope, are neces- 
 sarily wanting in many of those details and illustrations 
 which novel opinions require for their justification. 
 This gives an aspect of dogmatism to M. Laugel's 
 writings ; not," indeed, without some reality, from the 
 evident bias of mind to which we have just alluded. 
 He often expresses as established truths things which 
 are still matter of doubt and controversy. 
 
 Apart from this comment, we can give unequivocal 
 praise to the style of these volumes. M. Laugel has an 
 epigrammatic felicity of expression frequent in French 
 writers even on the most abstruse topics. He is occa- 
 sionally somewhat too florid in phrase, but there is no 
 
LAUGEL'S PROBLEJilS OF NATURE AND LIFE. 313 
 
 scientific pedantry about him. He comes at once to 
 his subject without parade of preface, and puts what he 
 has to say fairly in front. Whatever be thought of his 
 doctrines, they are at least honestly and clearly pro- 
 nounced. If expressed sometimes too dogmatically, 
 you see that they are really liis opinions, and reached 
 by study and earnest thought on the several subjects 
 before him. 
 
 In our review of these volumes we do not think it 
 necessary to follow M. Laugel's course through all the 
 topics with which he deals, but shall rather seek to 
 select such as may best illustrate those methods and at- 
 tainments of physical science which so strikingly cha- 
 racterise the age in which we are living. A summary 
 view of the progress and state of this vast department 
 of human knowledge we gave in an article some twelve 
 years ago. Since that time the steps in advance have 
 been not less gigantic than those we then described ; 
 rendering the present century, still not near its end, 
 the most remarkable in the history of mankind. Happy 
 would it be could we record commensurate change and 
 progress in the moral conditions of human existence, 
 of men and of nations of men ! Such golden age is 
 yet a Utopian dream of the future. The narrative of 
 the year just expired tells nothing of it ; save in the 
 solitary hope that the horrors of warfare, thus aug- 
 mented by the new weapons which science has fur- 
 nished, may check at least, if not annul, the repetition 
 of such calamities to the civilised world. 
 
 The first and second of M. Laugel's volumes. 
 
314 laugel's problems of nature and life. 
 
 entitled ' Science et Philosophie * and ' Problemes de la 
 Nature,' discuss, in the spirit and style we have just 
 denoted, the general principles, aims, and methods of 
 modern science. His mind readily embarks in those 
 bolder enterprises of speculation which formerly could 
 only be deemed the vagaries of thought, but have now 
 been sanctioned by deeper research into the mj^sterious 
 laws of nature — more wonderful in their reality than 
 any imaginations of untutored genius or of the wildest 
 fancy. With the new licence, however, thus obtained, 
 there is still need of much control over this modern 
 spirit of philosophy. Hypothesis— in many cases an 
 admirable minister to the discovery of truth — is often 
 stretched too far, and into regions inaccessible to 
 human research. The interlopers and dabblers in 
 science — those who, to take Lord Bacon's words, ' will 
 not wait the harvest, but attempt to mow the moss and 
 reap the green corn ' — are most at fault here ; but 
 these are many and active in their generation. The 
 phraseology of true science is easily caught up and 
 easily misapplied ; and the genuine coin becomes dis- 
 credited by the base. This evil partially remedies itself 
 through the wonted incongruity of all such naked 
 hypotheses. In physics nothing that is unproved can 
 ever find permanent place. 
 
 On this general topic, however, we must carry our 
 remarks a step farther. That truth is the sole legiti- 
 mate object of human enquiry is easily and familiarly 
 said ; but in seeking for truth it is useful, and even 
 needful, to recognise in the outset that there are things 
 which man troweth not — things which, though realities 
 
LAUGELS PROBLEMS OF NATURE AND LIFE. 315 
 
 ill themselves, cannot be compassed by thouglit, and 
 lie, therefore, beyond the scope of human research. 
 In every enquiry we are bound to regard primarily 
 what has been done, and what yet remains to be done. 
 But also it is well to know and ever hold in mind the 
 existence of these unknowable realities — a caution hap- 
 pily expressed by Malebranche, the most eminent 
 disciple of Descartes : ' II est bon de comprendre 
 clairement qu'il y a des choses qui sont absolument 
 incomprehensibles.' It is into their unfathomable 
 depths that the metaphysical mind loves to dive ; 
 bringing back little more than a new coinage of words 
 and phrases, more fitted to entangle and delude the 
 understanding than to enlighten it. Speculations and 
 reveries of this kind, indeed, are most prone to grow 
 up where science has not yet begun to work by expe- 
 rimental research. The ancient philosophers, Greek 
 and Eoman, entertained them as a sort of intellectual 
 luxury ; those of mediaeval time as a cloister occupa- 
 tion and refuge from the barbarism surrounding them. 
 Even the most savage races of men chng to such ques- 
 tions, in rude expression of their wonder at those mys- 
 terious changes and convulsions of the material world 
 to which they, in common with the philosopher, are 
 unceasingly subjected. 
 
 We dwell the rather upon this point because the 
 physical science of our day is marked especially by its 
 close approach to these insoluble questions. Modern 
 discovery, whether dealing with the infinitely great or 
 the infinitesimally small, whether with stars or atoms, 
 has been emboldened by its own success, and presents 
 
316 laugel's problems of natuee and life. 
 
 problems to us for future solution which Swift would 
 have related as the reveries of Laputan philosophy. 
 The Cavendishes and WoUastons of a prior generation, 
 who shrunk back with a certain distrust and alarm 
 even from their own discoveries, are now nowhere to 
 be found. It may be admitted that many of what 
 once appeared insuperable barriers have been removed, 
 and that it is frequently as rash in science to impose 
 limits as to seek to penetrate beyond them. Yet the 
 few single words, Space, Time, Matter, Force, Motion, • 
 and Life, bring us into direct contact with problems 
 which, though based on innumerable phenomena, 
 forming the totality of our physical knowledge, leave 
 reason utterly at fault. Take, for instance, the old 
 question regarding that very Matter itself, which we 
 are now so boldly handling, through the properties of 
 its ultimate atoms and molecules. Is it actually 
 created by the same Supreme Power which formed it 
 into worlds and living existences ? Or is it in itself 
 eternal — the primitive material with which the Creator 
 has thus wonderfully worked in evoking all that we 
 see in the universe around us ? It is obvious that 
 reason is vainly spent in seeking to encounter a ques- 
 tion where, though one of the alternatives must neces- 
 sarily he true, no proof or argument can possibly be 
 brought to determine which is so. 
 
 The same with regard to the Infinite, whether of 
 space, time, or number. The mathematician may 
 give technical expression to it, in certain forms to 
 which his science conducts liim, and the metaphysician 
 may revel in the very vagueness of the conceptions it 
 
laugel's problems of nature and life. 317 
 
 conveys ; but it is a word unreal to all thought, and 
 philosophy is bound to be sparing in the use of it. It 
 might be well, too, were theology, in dealing with 
 these terms of Infinity and Eternity, more thoughtful 
 and forbearing on the doctrines and denunciations to 
 which it applies them. Eternity has been well de- 
 scribed as ' a negative idea clothed with a positive 
 name.' Conceptions so vast are, in fact, only described 
 by negative terms — the endless, the incomprehensible. 
 "We are all more or less enslaved by words ; but it is 
 the proper business, equally of religion and philosophy, 
 to throw off this thraldom, when truth, as often hap- 
 pens, is fettered or distorted by it. 
 
 We have just named Matter, Force, Motion, and 
 Life, as terms which in their most general sense give 
 foundation to all science, and at the same time express 
 its most profound and perplexing problems. The word 
 Force especially, known to us through its relation to 
 matter and motion in space, taxes the thought by a 
 sort of harsh compulsion of use. It is a term too 
 variously famihar in common life to be thus largely 
 appropriated by science. No present definition has 
 rescued it, in this higher sense, from a certain meta- 
 physical obscurity of meaning. We know force as a 
 reality only by what we term its effects ; and we 
 pluralise the word in speaking of the several forces 
 manifested in the phenomena of the natural world — 
 while at the same time finding, in these very pheno- 
 mena, a correlation, by interchanges of material effects, 
 so exactly equivalent that nothing which we can term 
 force or power is lost in the translation. In this 
 
318 laugel's problems of nature and life. 
 
 latter fact — one of the greatest discoveries of modern 
 science — we gain a certain unity for the problem, in 
 the conception of a single Power which, indestructible 
 in itself, acts in different modes and degrees throughout 
 the material universe — the source of all motion and 
 change in the greatest and in the most minute pheno- 
 mena of nature. But this at best is a cloudy concep- 
 tion, insusceptible of any direct proof, and incapable of 
 being moulded into a definition. The abstract idea 
 looms before us, but escapes before we can grasp it. 
 
 Nor can we shelter our ignorance under any of the 
 various terms used by philosophers to designate this 
 power — SwdfJieLSj eVepyeta, vis viva, vis mortua, 
 dynamic energy, potential energy, ' lebendige Krafte,' 
 or whatever else the diversities or impotence of lan- 
 guage have suggested. These phrases, even were 
 they congruous, do little more than repeat the pro- 
 blem in new words. We are still dealing with 
 what is unperceived by any of our senses — itself, for 
 aught we can tell, immaterial — and known only as the 
 cause of sensible changes in the matter around lis. 
 Nor do we gain much here by seeking, as some have 
 done, to conceive of force as a mere expression of the 
 intestine changes which matter itself, in its atomical 
 parts, is ever undergoing, and which are in perpetual 
 translation and interchange from one material form to 
 another. This is shifting the difficulty without solving 
 it. Whence come these motions and innumerable in- 
 terchanges in matter ? What is the power initiating 
 and propagating them ? To say that it is one inherent 
 in matter itself thickens rather than dispels the dark- 
 
laugel's problems op nature and life. 319 
 
 ness. M. Laugel enters into these questions, and we 
 give the following passage as a good example of his 
 style : — 
 
 ' La force est ce qu'il y a de plus mysterieux dans la 
 nature. EUe est dans la substance et n'est pas la substance ; 
 ou plutot la substance etant perpetuellement active et passive, 
 en tant que passive elle subit Faction de la force, en tant 
 qu'active elle devient force a son tour. Car il ne faut point 
 imaginer la force comme quelque chose d'exterieur a la 
 matiere ordinaire, comme une entite d'une espece particuliere 
 qui se melerait aux corps, y entrerait, en sortirait, au gre des 
 circonstances. Avant qu'on eut bien compris le caractere do 
 I'universalite de la force^ telle etait I'idee qu'on se faisait des 
 forces particulieres. On parlait du fluide electrique, du 
 calorique, de la gravite, comme d'essences reelles, sur-ajoutees 
 en quelque sorte a la matiere. Le langage de la physique 
 n'est pas encore debarrasse de ces locutions vicieuses.' 
 
 M. Laugel here and elsewhere shows the intrinsic 
 difficulties of the subject, but provides no new or 
 feasible way out of them. The science of our day has 
 instructed us largely, though yet imperfectly, in the 
 atomic and molecular properties of matter ; and in 
 those multiform changes by addition, subtraction, and 
 substitution on which chemistry, as a special branch of 
 knowledge, is founded. But it tells nothing of that 
 secret motive cause on which these changes depend, 
 and by which they are translated from one portion of 
 matter to another, under exact equivalents of power 
 and effect. 
 
 It is not surprising that this problem of force, as 
 grand as obscure, presenting itself in naked form even 
 to the rudest intelligence, should have been seized 
 upon with avidity in all ages. Some of the questions 
 
320 laugel's problems of nature and life. 
 
 just denoted struck the ancient philosophers as they do 
 us, and were answered with even greater audacity, 
 from the absence of those checks which inductive 
 science imposes. The terms to ndcrxov and to ttolovu 
 briefly express the relation of matter and force in 
 the Greek philosophy. Cicero and Seneca both denote 
 the points in question clearly and compendiously. 
 The science of our own time, though it illustrates these 
 relations in a thousand ways unknown before — though 
 it may be said to have added a new element of power 
 to those already known, and by gigantic efforts of 
 human genius to have converted all to the practical 
 uses of man — yet, as regards the internal nature 
 of matter and force severally, has scarcely carried 
 our knowledge beyond that of our predecessors. 
 Motion and change show us the results of their rela- 
 tion, and with these science has its dealings, leaving 
 still open the cardinal question. What is Matter? 
 What is Force ? Some philosophers, as we have seen, 
 standing on the brink of these profound problems, 
 merge all matter in centres and lines of force ; others 
 see force only in the conditions and changes of matter 
 itself. We have half-a-dozen books and papers lying 
 before us in which this question is handled, under 
 various conceptions of the points in dispute. And 
 many others are announced as about to appear. 
 
 In the recent multiplicity of these writings on 
 force, as an element in the natural world, we find 
 justification for thus discussing the subject. The am- 
 biguities besetting the term in its various relations 
 have been rather multiplied than lessened by conflict- 
 
laugel's problems of nature and life. 321 
 
 ing championship. Even in the case of heat as a force 
 this comment has its appHcation. This great power, 
 so essential to life and all existence on earth, is now 
 deemed to be a mode of motion of matter itself ; and 
 its variations to depend on interchanges of such atomic 
 motions, tending to equalise their degree, or cause 
 their conversion into mechanical or other kinds of 
 force. The main fountain of heat to us, as well as of 
 light, is the sun. This great body projects, through 
 the ether of intervening space, waves or impulses so 
 variously and Avonderfully propertied as to produce, on 
 reaching the earth, those several effects of light, heat, 
 and chemical action of which the solar spectrum is the 
 simple but sublime interpreter. To the sun, then, we 
 must look for that astonishing initial force, whatever it 
 be, which from age to age combines and emits those 
 complex undulations of which heat and light are the 
 exponents to us on earth, while they alike pervade 
 every part of the solar system. We may admit that 
 heat, as expressed by temperature in the grosser forms 
 of matter, is simply due to intestine movements of 
 their particles ; but we cannot exclude the sun as the 
 present primary source of that power which these 
 motions distribute and equalise. The discoveries of 
 Tyndall show by what subtle molecular adjustments 
 the heat thus received is prevented from freely radia- 
 ting back into space. The question whether the sun 
 loses by this unceasing emission of power — for we are 
 not authorised to call it substance — and how this loss, 
 if real, is repaired, have been subjected to various 
 recent hypotheses, but without any certain or even 
 
 Y 
 
322 LAUGELS PROBLEMS OP NATURE AND LIFE. 
 
 plausible conclusion. If, indeed, the notion of neces- 
 sary repair be admitted, we are called upon to provide 
 for more than two million times the amount which the 
 sun transmits to the earth, such being the relative pro- 
 portion of this power lost — ^if lost — by projection into 
 circumambient space. 
 
 Latent heat, again — or what we are called upon to 
 regard as synonymous, latent force or potential energy — 
 is among the conceptions which modern science has 
 embodied in its doctrines ; a difficult conception, indeed, 
 but based on the apparent phenomena of bodies pass- 
 ing successively through the solid, fluid, and gaseous 
 states. Even if Dr. Andrews' recent discoveries did 
 not throw doubt on the interpretation of these phe- 
 nomena, we should still have to ask, Wliat is this latent 
 force of heat? The name implies an existing reality. 
 In what does this reality consist? Theory can only 
 answer, in some interior specific condition or arrange- 
 ment of atoms, lasting until excited to fresh change. 
 But see how much obscurity hangs over all this, when 
 closely analysed! How much obscurity, too, in tliat 
 general conception of potential force or energy stored 
 up in matter, which furnishes so many startling illustra- 
 tions to the scientific teaching of the day. It is deemed 
 possible to say that Heat and Light, as forces or active 
 powers, absorbed originally from the sun by vegetable 
 life on the earth, and following the conversion of the 
 latter into coal, have thus lain dormant for untold ages 
 in a mineral form, to be finally extricated in the fires 
 and furnaces of our own time. We cannot disprove 
 this, or bring other hypotheses to meet the facts. But 
 
laugel's problems of natuhe and life. 323 
 
 when we speak of heat as a force, consisting integrally 
 in certain atomic motions of bodies, which force may- 
 be pent up for ages in these atomic recesses, yet ever 
 ready for extrication, we are bound to look fairly at 
 the abstract conceptions these things involve, if indeed 
 they can be truly understood in any other way than as 
 simply expressing phenomena. The word Force, with 
 all the adjuncts imposed upon it, still looms before us, 
 as a mysterious symbol, rather than an intelhgible 
 reality. 
 
 We have been led to dwell long on this subject from 
 feeling that the conception of Force — the very back- 
 bone, we may call it, of physical science — ^has been 
 grievously disjointed by the various and vague use made 
 of the term. Whether any word or phrase could be 
 devised giving more unity to the idea, and to the phe- 
 nomena it embodies, may be doubtful. We do not 
 ourselves venture to suggest one. The radical difficulty 
 lies in the mysteries of nature itself, which we have 
 not sufficiently penetrated to draw this unity from their 
 depths. Such difficulty becomes more manifest as we 
 pursue the subject into other of its ramifications. If we 
 do so here, it is less for the purpose of exposing the 
 deficiencies of our knowledge than to show what science 
 has done, or is yet seeking to do, in the several cases 
 where Force is brought in as the exponent of pheno- 
 mena. 
 
 W^e pass over mechanical forces, though to these 
 also some of the foregoing remarks will apply. Coming 
 to gravitation, we are on smoother ground as regards 
 the sequence of facts and the phraseology expressing 
 
 Y 2 
 
324 laugel's problems of nature and life. 
 
 them, though still ignorant of the intimate nature of 
 this great power of the universe. Unlike other forces 
 in the sublime simplicity of its laws, this very simplicity 
 becomes a bar to research. The legacy of ignorance 
 which Newton left behind him, declaring, with the 
 wonted candour of genius, that he did so, has de- 
 scended to his successors in the enquiry, who must, in 
 their turn, bequeath it to posterity. Several mathema- 
 ticians and experimentalists of our own time — Faraday 
 among the latter — have adventured on the research, 
 with the especial object of bringing Gravity into some 
 direct relation with the other forms of force, but 
 hitherto in vain. And we are compelled still to abide 
 in the simple view of Gravity as a force incorporate in 
 matter itself throughout the universe, and under every 
 shape which matter can assume, in our own or other 
 worlds. This itself is a grand conception ; but it is a 
 sohtary and shapeless grandeur, which we might well 
 desire to exchange for more substantial knowledge. 
 
 But while speaking of Gravity, can we rightly ex- 
 clude from the name or conception of Force those re- 
 pulsions which we recognise in the material world ; 
 most obviously in atomic actions and changes, and in 
 electric and magnetic phenomena ; but also, as we have 
 some reason to suppose, in cosmical changes beyond 
 the limits of our globe ? Boscovich admitted such re- 
 pulsions as a part of his theory of forces, and some 
 modern physicists (we pray for a happier word denoting 
 them) have adopted the same view. But it is a point 
 less regarded generally than it ought to be by those 
 who think or write on this subject. Other modes of 
 
laugel's problems op nature and life. 325 
 
 action, again, we designate by the one short word the 
 use or abuse of which we are now considering. Centri- 
 fugal force, though recognised only as an antagonism, 
 yet has a special reality as such. The force of cohesion, 
 denoting perhaps only one mode of action of a larger • 
 power, must nevertheless be admitted into use as the 
 exponent of very important natural phenomena, which 
 we cannot otherwise illustrate than by this or other 
 equivalent terms. To treat fully, indeed, of all that may 
 be attributed to the atomic and molecular forces of 
 matter would be to fill a volume with facts, theories, 
 and conjectures. The phenomena of crystallisation 
 alone, seen under the microscope, and duly appreciated 
 in all their bearings, bring before us a marvellous ex- 
 emplification of these occult forces and actions in the 
 atomic world. 
 
 There yet remain certain powers in the world of 
 creation which, whatever their affinities to those already 
 named, require to be regarded apart, viz., the Vital 
 Forces, and the Force of Yohtion. In the first of these 
 terms we indicate that mysterious agency which gives 
 form, function, and hereditary succession to all living 
 organisations of the earth, afibrding to science problems, 
 of supreme interest and supreme difficulty. The notion 
 of a vital principle has been rejected by many physio- 
 logists as unproved and needless. But here, again, it is 
 the old conflict of words. That there is some power 
 or force, call it what we will, working upon matter as 
 its subject or instrument in the creation and maintenance 
 of the various forms of life, and that this power, how- 
 ever connected, has its pwn special character, cannot be 
 
326 l^ugel's problems of k\ture and life. 
 
 denied without casting off at once all that our senses as 
 well as reason teach us. The simple fact of the trans- 
 mission of hereditary likeness through successive gene- 
 rations is in itself a volume of argument on the subject. 
 To say that a nisus^ or force or forces, inherent in 
 matter itself, can create a series of living beings of defi- 
 nite forms and most complex functions, is either a naked 
 assertion without proof or a virtual admission of vital 
 force under another form of words. The generation of 
 life from life is, and probably ever will be, one of the 
 insoluble mysteries of philosophy. If asked what this 
 vital force is, we may answer by the coimter-questions 
 — What is gravitation ? What that force which puts 
 the ether of space into those marvellous motions which 
 we receive as light and heat ? These problems are all 
 of the same kind, involving questions with which no 
 present reasoning or conception can cope. 
 
 We come, lastly, to a power closely associated with 
 those by which life is engendered, viz., the Force of 
 Volition, of the Will, an entity not less real in its action 
 on matter than any of those other unseen powers with 
 which we have been dealing. If, indeed, we phrase 
 the whole question as involving the origin of force, 
 there is none so direct and explicit in the relation of 
 antecedents and effects. And there is none of which 
 we have so clear a knowledge through the conscious- 
 ness of our own powers. Man feels that he has a will ; 
 he knows that his physical and moral forces are go- 
 verned by it ; and he concludes that the operation of 
 forces not directed by an intelligent will would lead to 
 the return of chaos. We will a certain bodily action. 
 
LAUGEL*S PROBLEMS OF NATURE AND LIFE. 327 
 
 and the action instantly follows, as mechanical in its 
 effects as the fall of a heavy body or the stroke of 
 the steam-hammer. Whatever definition of force be 
 adopted, this comes integrally under it, though the 
 question as to its nature and origin be still wholly 
 unresolved.^ 
 
 If we have pursued this subject of Force to the 
 weariness of our readers, we must seek excuse from the 
 large part these questions are made to play in the 
 science as well as speculation of our time, and from 
 the frequent confusion introduced by the vague or in- 
 congruous use of the word itself. We do not profess- to 
 have done more than simply indicate what is yet 
 wanting to our consistent compreliension of the idea. 
 Human reason is perhaps incompetent to grasp in its 
 entirety this great problem of force ; but a patient re- 
 search into, and strict analysis of, phenomena may give 
 us nearer approach to that unity of power which we 
 have cause to consider the ultimate truth. There is 
 little chance of entering per saltum into these secret 
 places of nature. And the fine saying of Pascal may 
 profitably be remembered : ' L'univers nous ecrase. 
 C'est le privilege de I'homme de savoir qu'il est 
 ecrase.' 
 
 From the forces moving matter to the matter moved 
 — a step downwards, it might seem, but which is in 
 effect a descent from the clouds to the terra frma- of 
 
 ^ An admirable paper by Sir J. Herschel, on the * Origin of Force,' 
 may most profitably be studied in reference to this point, as to all others 
 connected with the general problem. 
 
328 LAUGEL'S PEOBLEMS OF NATUEE AND LIFE. 
 
 physical science. We might, indeed, plunge into mys- 
 teries here also, if seeking for a definition of Matter in 
 the abstract, and that relation of its existence to the 
 percipient mind which has been the metaphysical 
 wrangle of ages. When Mr. Mill somewhere defines 
 it as the ' permanent possibility of sensation,' we see, 
 though dimly, what he means, but gain nothing by the 
 definition. Fortunately, experimental science is seldom 
 led far astray by the vague phrases of philosophy. 
 
 It regards matter in a real sense, as made up of 
 parts or atoms of inconceivable minuteness and mobi- 
 lity — each atom, whatever its elementary nature, having 
 its individual properties and relations to others, whether 
 similar or dissimilar in kind — which properties and re- 
 lations, brought into action by what we call forces, 
 from within or without, give origin to all the motions, 
 changes, and endless combinations and forms, living 
 and lifeless, which we see around us. In saying this, 
 we are denoting what is the true foundation of Che- 
 mistry — that great science which, while embracing 
 some of the most important objects of human research, 
 practical as well as purely scientific, is now so closely 
 blended by correlation with other sciences that all limit 
 is lost, even to a definition. The phenomena of elec- 
 tricity — those of light and heat in their innumerable 
 aspects — animal and vegetable physiology — even astro- 
 nomy and the mechanical sciences, and, yet more, all 
 the practical arts, are thus interwoven with chemistry 
 — a union continually advancing with the advance of 
 knowledge ; as must of necessity be the case in a 
 science based on the elementary parts and rnotions of 
 
laugel's problems of nature and life. o'Ad 
 
 matter, and thus related to the forces on which these 
 motions depend. The word Chemistry, feeble and 
 partial as originally applied, now appropriates to itself 
 a vast space in the domain of human knowledge. 
 
 We have stated our design of briefly illustrating in 
 this article some of the more marked characteristics 
 and attainments of recent science. Before dilating on 
 that branch of it which thus deals with matter through 
 its infinitesimal parts, we might invite the notice of 
 our readers to that loftier study which has for its pro- 
 vince the heavens and their numberless worlds. The 
 progress of astronomy during the last few years has 
 not been less rapid than that of the other sciences, 
 with some of which it has become united by new and 
 unexpected relations. To the most remarkable of 
 these we shall have occasion immediately to refer, 
 though with another object. But the discoveries due 
 to spectrum analysis, the greatest astronomical achieve- 
 ments of our time, have been so fully described in a late 
 number of this Eeview, that we may best avoid repe- 
 tition by hastening to another subject, though loth to 
 quit one replete with grandeur in itself, and exemplify- 
 ing so wonderfully the genius and intellectual prowess 
 of man in his higher grades of cultivation. 
 
 We revert, then, to Chemistry, the objects of which 
 as a science and its rapid and various progress we have 
 just denoted. Our further notice, however, must be 
 limited to a few only of the attainments of recent years. 
 A large proportion of these may be said to belong to, 
 or to come in illustration of, the atomic theory, of 
 which the two great processes of analysis and synthesis, 
 
330 laugel's troblems of nature and life. 
 
 in their most general sense, are at once the exponents 
 and instruments. To this atomic theory we shall have 
 occasion to allude again. Meanwhile we must treat of 
 it here as practically the foundation of modern che- 
 mistry, of its researches, doctrines, and nomenclature. 
 In its origin a rude and unformed bequest of ancient 
 philosophy, it is now fashioned and perfected into a 
 system to which the attributes of number, weight, and 
 proportion give a character of proof next to mathe- 
 matical in kind. The power of predicting results, and 
 obtaining them after prediction, is the high prerogative 
 of the chemist of our day. He may feel justly proud 
 of those tables which, in the synthetical exactness of 
 their series, even when most complex, express at once 
 the certainty of the facts and the subtlety of the pro- 
 cesses by which they were obtained. The gaps in 
 these series have been gradually filled up, in accord- 
 ance with the laws of numerical proportion, which 
 determine the relations of atoms in their simplest form. 
 The secondary relations of comi)ound atoms, or mole- 
 cules^ as they are distinctively called, show the same 
 fixity of combination according to atomic weights ; 
 even the most complex union of compound bodies ever 
 taking place in multiples of the combining proportions. 
 The curious facts regarding chemical equivalents, or 
 the substitution of one elementary body for another in 
 a given compound, all attest the same law of definite 
 proportions ; which, even apart from experiment, might 
 be presumed a necessary consequence and corollary to 
 the atomic theory. Securely aided by this theory, the 
 chemist penetrates deeply into the intimate constitu- 
 
LAUGELS PROBLEMS OF MATURE AND LIFE. 331 
 
 tioii of matter ; and bringing this knowledge into prac- 
 tice, is able, by chemical processes, to extricate the 
 most brilliant dyes from common coal-tar ; and to 
 derive from the nauseous dregs of distillation various 
 compounds gifted with fruit odours fragrant enough 
 to serve for the most dehcate confectionery. 
 
 These topics, however, involve too many details to 
 allow of our following them farther. But having named 
 analysis and synthesis, the terms which summarily 
 denote the processes nature employs, or man devises, to 
 bring about the changes in question, we will briefly 
 advert to the new channels, as they may fitly be called, 
 which have recently been opened out to analytic 
 chemistry. A new method of research may well take 
 rank among the highest discoveries, when, as often 
 happens, it is the prolific parent of them. 
 
 The first of these methods is that of the Spectrum 
 Analysis, already abounding, as many of our readers 
 are aware, in wonderful results, though but a dozen 
 years ago the bare suggestion of a few men of genius 
 who looked forward in advance of their time. The 
 discoveries due to it are cosmical in the largest sense. 
 They directly associate chemistry with astronomy, and 
 give us a new knowledge of the sun and fixed stars 
 which it might well seem beyond human compass to 
 attain ; but, being attained, becomes the best augury 
 of what may hereafter be reached by similar research. 
 Descending from celestial to earthly analysis, we may 
 affirm it as probable that the four new metals — cassium, 
 rubidium, thalhum, and iridium — would iiever have be- 
 come known to man but for those delicate spectrum 
 
332 laugel's problems of nature axd life. 
 
 lines, betokening in each case the presence of some 
 element hitherto unseen by human eye. Nor without 
 this aid should we have learnt that lithium, before 
 deemed one of the rarest of metals, is diffused more 
 universally than almost any other in the organic as 
 well as inorganic matter of our globe ; attesting by this 
 diffusion, however infinitesimally minute the quan- 
 tities concerned, some hidden use in the economy of 
 nature. 
 
 From this method again we obtain further evidence, 
 were such necessary, of the inconceivable minuteness 
 of those atoms and molecules of matter which have 
 hitherto been subjected to the grosser processes of 
 chemical analysis. The detection, by its yellow spec- 
 trum-line, of less than a milhonth part of a grain of 
 sodium in the air, is a striking instance in point ; and 
 many equivalent examples might be given. In truth, 
 this very minuteness of the ultimate parts — the crcu/Aara 
 dSiatpero — of matter, as well as their exquisite mobihty, 
 if not indeed their unceasing motion^ are necessary to 
 any conception we can form of the phenomena of the 
 material world. We must not here go aside to plunge 
 into the depths of the atomic theory, otherwise we might 
 add to these postulates that of determinate figure — a 
 necessity, as we must regard it, of the functions they 
 perform — the only key to the phenomena of definite 
 proportions, isomorphism, allotropy, and other facts and 
 doctrines embodied in chemical science. Adaptations, 
 perfect and constant such as these phenomena present, 
 can hardly co-exist but with forms equally perfect and 
 permanent. But admitting this, what system of atomic 
 
laugel's problems op nature and life. 333 
 
 morphology can be constructed to meet all the condi- 
 tions of the problem ? Nearly seventy kinds of matter 
 are still elementary to our knowledge. Are we to sup- 
 pose different figures of the component atoms of each 
 of these ? Or in sight of this difficulty, may we pre- 
 sume that many of them are really compounds of 
 simpler elements, though beyond the reach of discovery 
 as such ? or allotropic conditions of the same element, 
 as Dumas conjectures regarding chlorine, iodine, and 
 bromine.^ Questions still more intricate offer them- 
 selves when we come to the molecular compounds of 
 atoms. Here we are almost compelled, on physical 
 conditions, to suppose a variety of configurations as 
 great as the diversity of properties which these mole- 
 cules exhibit, and which are in no way more curiously 
 exhibited than in their various action on the animal 
 economy. A slight difference in the proportions even 
 of the same ingredients in a compound makes the dif- 
 ference between a food and a poison. Professor Tyn- 
 dall's experiments on the transmission of radiant heat 
 through gases have already furnished conclusions of 
 great interest to our knowledge of molecular physics. 
 We would willingly look to his labours and genius for 
 further exploration in this field of research. 
 
 In close connexion w^ith these questions we must 
 refer to another new method of analysis — the growth, it 
 may be said, of our own time. We allude to the ad- 
 mirable researches of the late Master of the Mint, 
 whose death (following soon after that of a still more 
 illustrious philosopher) we have much cause to deplore. 
 Professor Graham, in devoting his long labours to tlie 
 
334 laugel's problexMs of nature and life. 
 
 illustration of tlie phenomena of the effusion and diffu- 
 sion of gases through each other, and through interven- 
 ing septa of different substances, has done more than 
 any other experimentalist in materialising atoms and 
 molecules to our comprehension ; by showing their dis- 
 tinctive and relative modes of action, their separation 
 even from what we call chemical combination by other 
 than chemical reactions, and their different capacity 
 and rate of penetration through the porous media used 
 to effect this separation. When we are told that the 
 pores of graphite (one substance employed as a septum) 
 are so minute that a gas cannot pass through in mass, 
 but in molecules only, we obtain a certain relative 
 comprehension of atomic elements, and an index to 
 collateral enquiry in this very interesting branch of 
 physics. Such enquiry cannot fail to be pursued fur- 
 ther. In his paper on the molecular mobility of gases 
 Mr. Graham enlarges upon and justifies the belief that 
 continual intestine movement of atoms or molecules is 
 an essential condition of matter in a gaseous state, 
 these movements being different in different gases. 
 This inference, indeed, is almost inevitable from the 
 experiments he has recorded, and serves to interpret 
 other known phenomena, which scarcely admit of being 
 otherwise explained. 
 
 Let us here notice in passing that Lucretius, that 
 wonderful poet and the predictor of much that has 
 been proved and amplified by later research, fore- 
 shadows in some sort the recent discoveries of Graham 
 and others on the diffusibility and penetrability of 
 different kinds of matter (lib. ii. 288, et seq.). His 
 
laugel's problems of nature and life. 335 
 
 great poem deserves to be read in its relation to more 
 than one of the doctrines of our own day.^ 
 
 We might almost mention among new modes of 
 analysis, were it not that the products evade examina- 
 tion, those beautiful experiments of Tyndall in whicli 
 he decomposes highly attenuated vaporous compounds 
 by the solar or electric beam, passed through the tubes 
 containing them. The delicate aerial clouds gradually 
 developed in these tubes, while they illustrate the 
 exquisite atomic tenuity of matter, suggest analogies 
 or explanations of other physical phenomena occurring 
 in our atmosphere, as well as remotely in the universe 
 around us. 
 
 Before quitting the atomic theory we must brieiiy 
 notice the remarkable conclusions drawn from the 
 theory of gases by Sir W. Thomson and Clarke Max- 
 well, as to the minuteness of the molecules composing 
 them — a minuteness of which a hundred-millionth 
 part of a centimetre is but an approximate expression. 
 More recently, again, Sir W. Thomson has denoted 
 what he considers evidence of fixed physical limits to 
 the smallness of atoms and molecules — one very in- 
 geniously derived from the contact electricity of metals 
 — others drawn from the theories of capillary attraction, 
 and from that of gaseous actions ; severally affording 
 
 1 Speaking thus of Lucretius, we are tempted to transcribe a few lines 
 we have not seen quoted in reference to the topic, now so much dis- 
 cussed, of the early condition of man, and the order in which he succes- 
 sively fashioned weapons and implements to his use : — 
 
 ^ Arma antiqua, manus, ungues, dentesque fuerunt; 
 Et Lapides, et item sylvarum fragmina rami. 
 Posterius Ferri vis est, ^Erisque reperta. 
 Seel prior JEris erat quarn Ferri cognitus usus.^ 
 
336 laugel's problems of nature and lib^e. 
 
 proof that such limits do really exist. These conclu- 
 sions, though we can in no way contravene them in 
 theory, and though they express what may perhaps be 
 called necessary -physical conditions, yet are hardly 
 determinate enough to be recorded as scientific truths. 
 The huge array of figures which modern science so 
 often forces upon us in describing each extremity of 
 the scale of magnitudes in nature — whether of matter, 
 or space or motion — often creates distrust in men, even 
 the most intelligent, not accustomed to physical evi- 
 dence. The concurrent and co-ordinate nature of this 
 evidence, and the power it so frequently gives of 
 predicting results, furnish all needful reply to scepticism 
 of this Idnd. That it should exist can hardly create 
 surprise. 
 
 A word more we must say of the late Master of the 
 Mint, in reference to the most recent of his researches 
 — that which justified him, as he considered, in placing 
 hydrogen, under the name of Hydrogenium, among 
 the metallic bodies. We have little doubt that he was 
 right in ratifying a suspicion which had before been 
 broached to this effect. The singular resemblance to 
 metalhc alloys of the compounds of hydrogen with 
 certain metals, scarcely admits of other conclusion than 
 that this gas, the lightest of all known matter, is itself 
 really the vapour of a very volatile metal I The most 
 striking testimony is that derived from the absorption 
 of hydrogen by palladium — amounting in some cases to 
 nearly 1,000 times the volume of the latter metal — and 
 producing a compound strongly characterised in its 
 properties, as shown both in the results of charging with 
 
LAUGEL's problems of nature and LtPE. 337 
 
 hydrogen, and in those which attend and follow its 
 exclusion from the alloy. 
 
 This discovery, if we may so deem it, has much 
 value, not solely in itself, but also in the collateral 
 suggestions it affords. Familiar as we seem to be with 
 oxygen, there are still certain anomalies regarding 
 this greatest element of the natural world which are 
 awaiting further solution. Such are its allotropic 
 states, and the true theory of ozone. The same may 
 even more especially be said of that other great 
 element, nitrogen, so wonderfully associated with 
 oxygen in the atmosphere of our globe — not chemi- 
 cally, we are told, and yet everywhere, and always 
 present in such exact proportion that it is difficult not 
 to suppose some atomic relation beyond that of mere 
 admixture. But taking nitrogen singly, as an element 
 to our present knowledge, we know few chemical ob- 
 jects better fitted to stimulate and reward research. 
 Considered in its simplest state as a gas, it is chiefly 
 defined by negative qualities ; while in its compounds 
 it furnishes some of the most violent agents, explosive 
 and poisonous, which nature or art has produced. 
 These explosive actions are explained by the phrase of 
 instability of combination applied to them ; but no 
 explanation has yet reached those by which living 
 organisms are affected. The natural relations, indeed, 
 of this element to animal life, both in its structure and 
 functions, are matter of high interest. Nor must we 
 omit those recent discoveries which give to nitrogen a 
 cosmical existence in planetary space, together with 
 hydrogen and the several metals which have yielded 
 
 z 
 
338 laugel's problems of nature and life. 
 
 their lines to the spectrum. Its relations to hydrogen 
 in the form of ammonia are among the most important 
 in the economy of nature ; while the strange alloy 
 produced by the union of ammonia and mercury 
 affords suggestions which may fitly become the basis of 
 future research. Under the same view we would 
 notice the singular and exceptional relations of nitro- 
 gen to titanium and boron — all these things concur- 
 ring to furnish motives as well as means for further 
 enquiry. 
 
 In dwelling thus long on these parts of chemistry 
 we have little space left to speak of the synthetical 
 branch of the science ; though this too has been 
 greatly advanced of late years by the labours of 
 chemists both at home and abroad. The most inte- 
 resting discoveries here are those w^hich bring the 
 chemistry of organic life into connexion with that of 
 the inorganic world. By processes successful in their 
 subtlety various products have come out from the 
 laboratory identical with those which were before 
 considered exclusively due to the functions of animal 
 or vegetable life. In regarding, however, these and 
 other kindred achievements, we must not view analysis 
 and synthesis as oppugnant or detached methods of 
 research. The processes by which atoms and mole- 
 cules are rent asunder from their compounds have 
 close relation to those by which they are restored to 
 the same, or to other combinations, often new and un- 
 foreseen. They mutually aid and abet each other, 
 illustrating in this that great law of continuity which 
 prevails throughout all nature. 
 
laugel's problems of nature and life. 339 
 
 In mentioning this law — first distinctly stated by 
 Leibnitz, but verified and largely amplified since — we 
 may again briefly advert to the recent experiments of 
 Dr. Andrews, annulling the old view that the solid, 
 liquid, and gaseous forms are severally assumed per 
 saltum, and proving a continuous and gradual change 
 from one of these states to another, subject to condi- 
 tions of heat and pressure. These researches we re- 
 gard as highly important ; not solely in relation to the 
 theory of gaseous bodies, but also to the doctrines of 
 heat, and generally to all phenomena in which atomic 
 actions are concerned. 
 
 We cannot close this short sketch of the state of 
 chemical science without "adverting to one great hiatus 
 (valde defiendus^ we may add) in this great depart- 
 ment of knowledge ; the want, namely, of some single 
 system of chemistry, which, basing its classification 
 and nomenclature on philosophical theory, may give 
 true relation and congruity to facts now become ap- 
 palling from their multitude and various interpretation. 
 We have before us at this moment four several volumes, 
 the works of chemists of high and merited eminence, 
 each adopting and carrying into details its own special 
 principles of arrangement and nomenclature. In some 
 cases these differences involve cardinal points of chemi- 
 cal theory. In all cases they are embarrassing to the 
 student ; and very especially so in organic chemistry, 
 the newest and most arduous department of the science. 
 StiU, we can hardly feel surprise at the deficiency we 
 state, seeing the enormous complexities of the subject; 
 augmenting rather than diminishing • with the disco- 
 
 z 2 
 
340 LAUGEL'S PROBLEMS OF NATURE AND LIFE. 
 
 veries successively made and the new objects and 
 methods disclosed. The various problems left only 
 partially solved regarding atoms and molecules — ^their 
 figure, magnitude, motion, relative weights and affini- 
 ties — may well explain the difficulty of obtaining one 
 single system, sufficient and permanent. Take the 
 example of what are called ' compound radicals ' — par- 
 ticular compounds having fixity enough to act as bases 
 in other combinations. This conception is forced upon 
 us by facts ; but these facts admit of being differently- 
 construed, and actually are so by different chemists. 
 With all this, we cannot doubt that science, advancing 
 in every direction, will eventually construct some 
 chemical system more simple and complete than any 
 we now possess, though still not reaching that prin- 
 ciple of unity and power towards which, as a basis, 
 the aspirations of all scientific men are directed. 
 
 From Chemistry we come, by the correlation of 
 numerous phenomena, to Electricity — that wonderful 
 element — scarcely three centuries ago recognised only 
 in the flashes of the thunderstorm, or in the trivial 
 attractive power of amber and a few other bodies — 
 now known to us as one of the great powers of the 
 universe; penetrating and pervading all matter, and 
 present under one form or other in every act of phy- 
 sical change. In no department of science has the 
 research of the present century been more active and 
 successful. The advance of later years, indeed, has 
 consisted not so much in the discovery of new elemen- 
 tary laws, as in the application of those already known. 
 
LAUGELS PROBLEMS OF NATURE AND LIFE. 341 
 
 Kew modes of evolution, and augmentation of power 
 through induction and the conversion of mechanical 
 into electrical force, furnish notable instances of such 
 progress. And yet more those inventions, admirable 
 alike for their genius and boldness, by which the Elec- 
 tric Telegraph has been spread over the globe, and 
 subjected to man's control even in the uttermost depths 
 of its ocean channel. The relations of Electricity to 
 Magnetism, though the identity of the element of 
 power is proved, have received httle further develop- 
 ment ; and many obscure questions are here awaiting 
 solution from some higher law yet undiscovered. The 
 influence of electricity on the vital functions is still a 
 very unsettled problem, and the conflicting results 
 obtained by experiment impair the evidence which 
 science requires for their adoption. 
 
 But the great mystery here, to which all others are 
 subordinate, centres in the simple question. What is 
 Electricity ? what the actual nature of the element thus 
 wonderfully propertied, and, as we have reason to 
 believe, fulfilling in other and remote worlds the func- 
 tions through which we know it in our own ? In that 
 general conception of the unity of creation expressed 
 heretofore in the phenomena of light and gravitation, 
 but now enforced upon us by so many new and unex- 
 pected evidences, we cannot refuse to admit Electricity 
 as one of those great cosmical agents which combine 
 and control the elements of power and action in the 
 universe at large. 
 
 But reason is not to be satisfied with magniloquent 
 phrases. The question comes back upon us. What is 
 
342 laugel's problems of mature and life. 
 
 Electricity ? It is one which has tried, but vainly, the 
 genius of many philosophers of our time, Faraday 
 among the latest. True genius like his can afford to 
 admit failure, and is ever ready to make the confession. 
 The question still remains unsolved ; a problem for the 
 labours — or, it may be, for some felicitous accident — 
 of the future. We have spoken of electricity as an 
 element^ but this term does nothing more than shelter 
 elementary ignorance of its nature. With all our various 
 knowledge of electrical phenomena, the first letters are 
 yet wanting to the alphabet of the science. We speak 
 of positive and negative electricity, of poles and cur- 
 rents, of induction, of quantity and intensity, of electro- 
 magnetic actions, &c., but we still conceive and define 
 these conditions solely by their effects. The question 
 still recurs. What is Electricity ? 
 
 No step can be made to its answer without facing 
 another question. Is Electricity a material agent, 
 special in its endowments as such ? Or is it merely a 
 property or condition of matter, deriving its phenomena 
 from the atomic and molecular changes which matter in 
 its many known forms is ever undergoing ? To halt 
 before this question is virtually to suspend enquiry. 
 But have we not cogent reason, taking the largest 
 view of the phenomena, for regarding electricity as 
 itself a material element ? The methods by which we 
 elicit, accumulate, and conduct it, whatever theoretical 
 difficulties they involve, are far better comprehended 
 upon this hypothesis than under the vague view of 
 their depending on atomic actions of the bodies electri- 
 cally affected. To speak of polar states or chemical 
 
LAUGELS PROBLEMS OF K\TURE AND LIFE. 343 
 
 changes in the atoms of matter as constituting elec- 
 tricity, is but to hide the real difficulty. In electrical 
 actions there is something evolved — a power capable of 
 conduction to unlimited distances with equal velocity 
 to that of light. This conduction, as it occurs through 
 wires, bears cogently on the question. The differences 
 of effect produced by the varying material, thickness 
 and length of these conductors, c^n hardly be recon- 
 ciled with other views than that of a specific agent, 
 acting in a certain ratio to its quantity and intensity, 
 and capable of being estimated under these relations. 
 The properties of quantity and intensity, and still more 
 the faculty of being concentrated and accumulated 
 within determinate spaces, especially characterise elec- 
 tricity, and associate it closely with those conditions 
 which designate matter to our knowledge. 
 
 If we admit this, another question at once arises. 
 Can we identify this electric element with any other 
 known agent in the natural world ? What we need- 
 fully require is some agent cosmical in the largest sense 
 of the word, since the electric influence is present, not 
 solely in the atomic and molecular changes of matter, 
 but in regions of space far beyond our sphere. This 
 universality led Faraday to conjecture some direct con- 
 nexion between the force of gravitation and the electric 
 power ; but he failed in finding any experimental proof 
 of this hypothesis, and avowed the failure. 
 
 But before hurrying to the theory of a new and 
 special power (a bare assumption, complicating yet 
 more the knotty problem of the elementary forces), 
 we are bound to see whether any natural element, 
 
344 laugel's peoblems of natuee and life. 
 
 already recognised, will so far answer the conditions 
 required as to be plausible in itself, and not to involve 
 any physical impossibility. Such element we venture 
 to believe may possibly be found in the ether of space ; 
 and as this hypothesis, though not wholly new to 
 science, has yet been only partially advocated, we must 
 ask to be allowed a few words in its illustration. 
 
 Under the provisional name of Ether we recognise 
 in space around us, a medium capable of transmitting 
 the direct and reflected waves of light and heat, and 
 itself physically necessary for such transmission. While 
 forced to call this medium imponderable, its materiality 
 must be inferred from the very nature of the functions 
 •it performs. Vast and complex though these be, we 
 cannot hmit them to outer space only. We find full 
 evidence from optical and other phenomena that ether 
 interpenetrates and pervades the densest bodies on 
 which it pours its waves. May we not assume the fact 
 generally, that where it comes into contact with our 
 atmosphere and the grosser forms of terrestrial matter, 
 it assumes other conditions and properties than when 
 diffused equably and continuously through space ? Ee- 
 flected and refracted we know its waves to be. May 
 they not also be condensed, accumulated, evolved, 
 conducted in currents, and otherwise modified by the 
 kind of matter thus pervaded, and the changes this 
 undergoes from other causes acting upon it ? Without 
 assuming a knowledge we do not possess of the infini- 
 tesimal actions of the atoms and molecules of matter, 
 we may at least deem it certain that the agency of 
 ether, impinging upon and penetrating them, cannot be 
 
laugel's peoblems of nature and life. 345 
 
 limited to the phenomena expressed by hght and heat 
 only ; or that its elasticity, tenuity, velocity of wave- 
 motion, &c. remain unaltered, when coming into that 
 close atomic coalescence which all analogy tells us to 
 be the condition of most energetic physical action. 
 
 If faihng to bring direct proof of the presence of 
 ether in the subtle phenomena, let us see whether elec- 
 tricity may not fairly be invoked as its representative 
 and real substitute. What, in short, is there to forbid 
 the conception that electricity is the ether itself — not 
 existing as when diffused through interplanetary and 
 stellar space, but from its embodiment with terrestrial 
 matter — solid, fluid, or gaseous — quickened into new 
 conditions ; acting or acted upon in all atomic changes ; 
 and in certain of these extricated in such quantity and 
 manner as to become a power in the hands of man ? 
 Can an agent such as we must suppose ether to 
 be lie dormant in the innermost interstices of matter, 
 while the smallest change of condition, even by 
 friction or the simple apposition of different bodies, 
 awakens another power within them into life and 
 energy? Is it probable or possible that two distinct 
 elements should co-exist in the same interstitial spaces, 
 with separate relations to the matter thus environing 
 them ? We put these points interrogatively, but they 
 are surely such as may sanction hypothesis, in default 
 of any more absolute answer to the question, ' What is 
 Electricity?' 
 
 The velocity of the electric current in its close 
 approximation to that of the ether waves of light 
 may be admitted into the argument for identity. All 
 
346 LAUGEL'S PROBLE^fS OP NATURE AND LIFE. 
 
 such facts give proof of the astonishing subtlety and 
 mobihty of the element concerned, and of its capacity 
 to assume altered physical aspects when brought into 
 contact with the ponderable forms of matter. 
 
 It is not requisite to vindicate this hypothesis in its 
 application to all the phenomena of electricity, when 
 every other theory has failed to interpret them. The 
 problem of the two electricities embraces the most 
 arduous of these questions — departing from all recog- 
 nised properties of other powers, and still a barrier 
 to the boldest conjecture. But there is nothing here 
 to contradict the view of ether as the agent concerned 
 — nothing certainly to establish the claim of any other 
 element. The difficulty, being equal and alike under 
 any hypothesis, may fairly be eliminated from the argu- 
 ment. And the same may be said of those magnetic 
 relations of electricity, which in the phenomena of dia- 
 magnetism and magnetic lines of force, of magneto- 
 crystallic action, and of the direct action of the magnet 
 on electric currents, offer many questions of supreme 
 difficulty, but not more insuperable on the view which 
 identifies the electric element with ether than on any 
 other. 
 
 Several other points might be urged on behalf of 
 the hypothesis, had we space for them — such as the 
 meteorological relations of electricity, and the wonder- 
 ful phenomena exhibited by the crystalline texture in 
 connexion with light and electricity. Still, however, 
 it is obvious that the argument is one of presumption 
 only, and from the very nature of its conditions will 
 never probably get beyond this. But we think that it 
 
LAUGEL'S PROBLEMS OF NATURE AND LIFE. 347 
 
 merits to be brought tlius far before our readers, both 
 from its intrinsic plausibihty and as an example of the 
 great questions which are now currently discussed in 
 the scientific world. 
 
 The third of M. Laugel's volumes comes before us 
 entitled 'Problemes de la Vie,' a title expressing at 
 once the mysteries of the subject, and, to those w^ho 
 have read his preceding volumes, the line of thought 
 and argument he is likely to pursue in dealing with 
 them. Leaning towards materialism, yet not in the 
 sam.e hard and exclusive sense as Virchow, Vogt, and 
 other German writers, he seeks, as far as possible, to bring 
 vital functions within the domain of ordinary physics ; 
 and argues, as others have done, against the use or 
 abuse of those terms, ' vital principle,' 'vital force,' ' vital 
 energy,' which have been employed to veil our igno- 
 rance of the reality. Eefraining from analysis, or any 
 general adoption of his opinions, we think it better to 
 present to our readers a summary view (in sequel to 
 an article many years ago) of what science and specula- 
 tion are still doing in this ample field of enquiry. 
 
 The first of the ' Problems of Life ' lies in the 
 question ' What is Life ? ' It has undergone a dozen 
 definitions ; some by eminent authorities, but all liable 
 more or less to objections from error, incompleteness, 
 or obscurity. The problem has pressed upon every 
 age of mankind, and in our own time has been brought 
 into connexion with the latest discoveries of physical 
 science. Still, however, we need a definition which 
 may satisfy all the conditions without becoming value- 
 less from its generality. That given us by Aristotle, 
 
348 laugel's problems of nature and life. 
 
 though clouded by some terms of Greek philosophy, is 
 as good as any that have succeeded it. The well- 
 known definition of Bichat, ' La vie est I'ensemble des 
 fonctions qui resistent a la mort/ and that of the En- 
 cyclopedic, ' La vie est le contraire de la mort,' are too 
 epigrammatically negative to be of any use. They 
 omit, too, that which is the very essence of all life, 
 viz., the faculty of reproducing life, more or less like 
 in kind to itself. 'No definition can be good which 
 does not include the condition of an organisation ca- 
 pable by sexual or other means of such reproduction. 
 
 We think, too, that Time should be admitted as 
 one element in the definition sought for. Every form 
 of life, endlessly dissimilar though these be, has its 
 average period and limit of existence, as well as a 
 certain defined chronometry of all its functions. 
 Growth, maturity, final decay, and death belong to 
 living organisation in its every shape on earth. 
 
 An eminent philosopher of our own time describes 
 life as ' consisting in the continuous adjustment of 
 internal relations to external relations ' — a definition 
 which loses value in its generality. A power of adjust- 
 ment, indeed, brings us close to that conception of a 
 vital principle, which we have just noticed as one of 
 the vexed questions of physiology. We alluded to it 
 cursorily when speaking of the vital forces, but must 
 add a few words here, to denote more explicitly what 
 we think to be the true conclusion on the matter. We 
 cannot assert on actual proof that life is engendered 
 by, or engenders, any power or force peculiar to itself. 
 Nevertheless in recognising, which we must do, that 
 
LAUGELS PROBLEMS OP NATURE AND LIFE. 349 
 
 there is some definite mode of action in living bodies, 
 giving to them forms and properties unknown else- 
 where in nature, and transforming known forces so as 
 to appropriate them to the peculiar functions of life, 
 we virtually admit a special and characteristic power, 
 call it what we will. The facts connected with genera- 
 tion and those of hereditary resemblance are alone 
 sufficient to point to some cause, physical it may be, 
 but not known to us by actual identity or analogy 
 with any other physical power. 
 
 Whence but from some such cause — occult to us — 
 can it be that a single germ or germs, proteine or pro- 
 toplasm (the names here signify little) should evolve by 
 gradual accretion of matter the likeness of an anterior 
 being, even in minute peculiarities of form and feature, 
 these same peculiarities, morbid as well as natural, often 
 recurring after one or two generations have been in- 
 terposed.^^ The animal economy throughout, in its 
 instincts as well as structure, enforces the same conclu- 
 sion — a negative one, it may be called, but it is better 
 to rest in this than to attempt a blind and useless 
 definition. All that can be said is, that there exists 
 something we do not comprehend. The controversy 
 now going on will continue, because we possess no 
 crucial proof or argument to close it. In this it is 
 like many other questions similarly contested. 
 
 ^ This problem, if it could be solved, would carry us far deeper into 
 the arcana of creation than any other attainment of science. Mr. Darwin, 
 feeling this fully, has in his last work modestly but very ingeniously 
 encountered the question by an hypothesis, which, if unproved, and in 
 its nature incapable of proof, is at least as probable as any that can be 
 devised. His chapter, entitled Pangenesis, deserves to be studied, if but 
 to call attention to what we may term the necessities of the problem. 
 
350 laugel's problems of nature and life. 
 
 In what, and how, and when, did hfe begin on our 
 globe? In its lowest aspects, whether animal or 
 vegetable, we see nothing more than a few material 
 elements, aggregated under the simplest forms ; with 
 few organic functions, yet these such in kind as to 
 preserve existence for a certain time — to provide for a 
 succession of similar existences — and this fulfilled, to 
 expire. From these simple conditions (taking animal 
 life as best for illustration) we find a series rising up- 
 wards to forms and functions the most complex and 
 complete. In no part of this ascending scale is there 
 any wide gap ; what in many cases seemed such 
 having been, partially at least, filled up by recent dis- 
 covery in the living or the fossil world. However this 
 series may have begun, and whether it has been 
 worked out by derivation or evolution within itself, or 
 by successive acts of creative power, equally must we 
 affirm the unity of the whole, and the necessity of a 
 First and Supreme designing Cause. If the endless 
 forms, functions, and instincts of life which surround 
 us be derived by progressive changes in unmeasured 
 time from a few primitive types of being, such changes 
 bespeak certain vital laws acting on matter through 
 and concurrently with the other great forces of the 
 natural world. Under any and every view of the sub- 
 ject, intention by a higher Power, however obscure to 
 man as the interpreter, is manifest as the foundation of 
 the whole — the sole standing-point to our reason, when 
 regarding the origin, varieties, and perpetuation of 
 animal life on the earth. 
 
 This recognised, we are better prepared to meet 
 
laugel's problems of nature axd life. 351 
 
 the several questions which science has suggested or 
 speculation created upon the subject. And the first 
 we encounter here is one of the most momentous ; 
 that, namely, which respects ' Spontaneous Genera- 
 tion, ' an enquiry bequeathed to us in a vague form 
 from remote antiquity, and recently revived under 
 conditions of very delicate experimental research. The 
 question simply is, Can matter of any kind, under 
 any circumstances, generate life, without the presence 
 of the ova or germs of prior life ? Though the enquiry 
 has applied itself only to the lower forms of infusoria, 
 whose motions under the microscope may almost be 
 called a mockery of hfe, yet it is one of deep interest, 
 whatever the issue ; involving, as it does, in connexion 
 with recent doctrines of derivation and development, 
 the whole question of the origin of life on the earth. 
 This interest is testified by the keenness of controversy 
 going on. The careful and refined researches of 
 Pastern' and Pouchet, on opposite sides of the question, 
 in France, have been carried forward by English ob- 
 servers, with not less skill in experiment ; yet the 
 contest still goes on, even angrily, as to these units of 
 creation : whether the old doctrine shall be maintained, 
 ' Omne vivum a vivo,' or whether inorganic matter 
 may not, under certain conditions, assume the lower 
 characters of life ? 
 
 If called upon to give any judgment where asser- 
 tions are thus conflicting, and the tests of truth so 
 diflScult, it would be in favour of the former of these 
 opinions; while admitting that we have no absolute 
 proof to gainsay the latter. One might well borrow 
 
352 laugel's problems of ^^\ture axd life. 
 
 here the phrase of ' De minimis non curat lex^ ' for 
 the objects are too small and evanescent to furnish the 
 evidence required for conviction. But the question is 
 still under judgment ; and the enquiry, even without 
 any positive issue, will probably disclose collateral 
 secrets in that great volume of nature which is now 
 so diligently explored. 
 
 We have no room to speak of those many recent 
 discoveries in zoology and fossil geology illustrating 
 at once the ancient conditions of the earth, and the 
 multitudinous forms of life which have successively 
 existed and been extinguished on its surface. Vast as 
 is now the catalogue of animal species, or what are called 
 such, every year is adding to it. Nothing, indeed, more 
 startles contemplation than the quantity of life upon 
 the ea.rth. Around us, above us, below us — air, ocean, 
 lake, river, mountain, plain, and forest — all nature 
 teems with it, from the whale, elephant, bufialo, and 
 eagle down to the monads and vibrios of infusorial life. 
 And in this contemplation we must include the great 
 law of nature which makes animal life, in its every shape 
 and grade, depend for evolution and maintenance upon 
 life already existing — a law strikingly attested even in 
 those parasitic creations now so numerously catalogued 
 as to form a distinct portion of natural science. Death 
 is the transmigration, not of heing^ but of the materials 
 of being ^ into new forms and modes of existence. And 
 connected with this law we are called upon to recog- 
 nise another fact in the general scheme of creation, 
 viz., the obvious and constant provision for the main- 
 tenance of succession, even at the expense of individual 
 
laugel's problems of nature and life. 353 
 
 lives. Among the insects it is common to find those 
 propagating hfe perish as soon as this function is ful- 
 filled. We cannot explain these things, but must admit 
 their reality. 
 
 Still less can we with our reason confront another 
 problem of much deeper interest — viz., the relation 
 of man to the other forms of animal creation peo- 
 pling the earth. Surrounded on every side by living 
 beings — using them, consciously or unconsciously, 
 as food, and even inhaling them with every breath — 
 this question inevitably and closely presses upon human 
 thought. In one point (and that the very important 
 doctrine of derivation) it comes into contact with 
 the Darwinian theory, and carries much of present 
 and future controversy with it in this connexion. But 
 there are other and less equivocal modes of viewing 
 the relation of Man to other animals. The simplest is 
 that which regards him as the head of the living crea- 
 tion — the latest probably, certainly the loftiest — in that 
 long series of existences which we follow downwards 
 till animal life is lost in the lower organisms of the 
 vegetable world. But this is a feeble outhne of all 
 that the question involves. Within the series just 
 denoted he whole volumes of facts, inviting or almost 
 compelling research. The careless thinker may let his 
 reason go to sleep on this admitted human supremacy. 
 The philosopher, looking on the dog crouched at his 
 feet, sees in him an animal with organisation variously 
 akin to his own, and some senses even more perfect — 
 with intelhgence, memory, feelings, and passions of the 
 same kind, however difiering in degree and manner of 
 
 A A 
 
354 laugel's problems op nature and life. 
 
 use — with appetites and necessities of life similar also, 
 though more in subordination to instincts and here- 
 ditary habits of the species. The idle spectator gazes 
 on the anthropoid ape with mere merriment at this 
 mockery of human form and gesture — /xt/AT^/Aara Trjs 
 avOpoiirivy}^ la)rj<; — as Aristotle calls it. The man of 
 deeper thought cannot stand in face of these creatures 
 without a certain feeling of awe, in the contemplation 
 of that mysterious scheme which has brought them 
 thus near to himself in the scale of being. 
 
 Pascal says, ' II est dangereux de trop faire voir a 
 I'homme combien il est egal aux betes sans lui montrer 
 sa grandeur. II est encore dangereux de lui trop 
 faire voir sa grandeur sans sa bassesse.' The caution 
 is chiefly needed for philosophers, since to mankind at 
 large famiharity disguises this great wonder of the 
 world of life. How few fairly accost the question, 
 Whence and why this astonishing profusion and variety 
 of animal existence, not solely that now under our 
 eyes, but what has been entombed during uncounted 
 ages in the rocks beneath our feet ? ' It cannot for 
 a moment be contended that the great scheme of 
 creation had Man solely in view. These innumerable 
 vestiges of life, at periods far antecedent to his own 
 time on earth, might alone suffice to disprove this. 
 Equally is it negatived by our knowledge of existing 
 life. It would not be too much to affirm, were such 
 vague affirmation worth having, that not one-hundredth 
 part of the animal creation, counted by species, has any 
 direct relation or ministry to Man. He is at the sum- 
 mit of the series, and in his highest cultivation far 
 
laugel's problems of natuhe and life. 355 
 
 above the summit; but still lie is a member of this 
 series, and to be regarded as such. 
 
 We here approach a very interesting relation of 
 Man to the inferior animals, one involving the whole 
 question of reason and instinct, and beset with difficul- 
 ties not easy to overcome. Broadly speaking, indeed, 
 we may assert, that in the whole scale of being, from 
 Man downwards, these two faculties are found in in- 
 verse ratio to one another. But in reality it is often 
 wholly impossible to separate them. They co-exist, 
 and are in such way blended together that each has 
 power to modify or contravene the other. It is diffi- 
 cult to gauge exactly in other animals faculties and 
 functions which we find it hard enough to define in 
 ourselves ; and it is only by taking the most character- 
 istic cases of reason and instinct in animals that we can 
 rightly discriminate between them. Yet the distinc- 
 tion is a momentous one, and especially interesting in 
 relation to Man as the intellectual ruler of the earth. 
 
 Had we space for it much might be said regarding 
 that faculty of reason among the higher animals, both 
 wild and domesticated, to which we have already 
 slightly alluded. Its existence is familiarly recognised 
 in the phrases habitually applied to them ; yet this 
 very familiarity enfeebles, as in so many other cases, 
 that sentiment of wonder which the fact might well 
 inspire. Of their reasoning faculty no happier definition 
 can be given than that of Cuvier : ' Leur intelligence 
 execute des operations du meme genre.' Milton says 
 in more guarded phrase, ' They reason not contemp- 
 tibly.' Locke, while conceding reason, denied to them 
 
 A A 2 
 
356 LAUGELS PROBLEMS OP NATURE AND LIFE. 
 
 the power of forming ' abstract or general ideas.' 
 Taking the simplest view, we may affirm with Cuvier, 
 that the kind of reason is virtually the same, however 
 narrow in its scope and combinations. The mute 
 syllogism of the monkey, or the dog, or elephant, is 
 perfect as far as it goes, and might be translated into 
 speech or writing.^ It is less easy to speak of reflection 
 as a part of their intelligence, and yet this term cannot 
 well be excluded. That they possess and largely employ 
 the memory of objects and events is indisputable, but 
 we have not equal proof as to that more intellectual 
 faculty of recollection — the y^vrnir) orvvOeriKri — to 
 which the mind of Man owes so much of its power and 
 attainments. Another question occurs as to their 
 power of forecasting the future. An old English 
 writer speaks of ' the boon to animals that they are 
 nescient of evils to come.' Partially this may be true 
 even as to the highest ; but we cannot deny them the 
 simple faculty of anticipating events near at hand, and 
 'which come into sequence with others of wonted occur- 
 rence. To these intellectual faculties we may add one 
 more, in the ' sense of humour^' so conspicuous in many 
 animals, though not duly noticed in the inference it 
 affords. The gambols and sly artifices of monkeys 
 well depicture the sports and tricks of human child- 
 hood. The dog, toying with his master or gambolling 
 with other dogs, evinces his feeling of fun as plainly as 
 if it were put into words. And reflection will show; 
 how much lies beneath this single and simple fact, 
 
 1 Cicero, indeed, speaks of the * mens, ratio et memoria ' of the ant, 
 qualities which, in this case, as in the bee, we now ascribe to instinct, 
 though not without a certain hesitation where to draw the line. 
 
laugel's problems of nature and life. 357 
 
 As respects the passions and affections of the animals 
 thus near to our confines, we must regard them as 
 alike in kind to those which compose the moral nature 
 of man, though very different in objects, and wanting 
 the nice shades of human character in its various grades 
 of cultivation. Without running into subtle distinctions 
 of name or nature, it is enough to recite simply the 
 common qualities open to all observation. Such are 
 love and hatred, emulation and jealousy, anger and 
 revenge, gratitude, boldness and fortitude, pride, and 
 perhaps vanity, cowardice, and cunning. These quali- 
 ties are not defined by difference of species only. As 
 in man they characterise individuals of the same 
 species, and are innate, more or less, in the tempera- 
 ment of each. 
 
 It does not concern us here to trace these animal 
 faculties and feelings downwards in the scale till they 
 vanish in the bare instincts of existence. On this sub- 
 ject of instincts, however, a few words must be said, 
 though volumes would be needed to embrace their 
 wonderful history. M. Laugel's title ' Problemes de la 
 Vie' well characterises phenomena which perplexed 
 the mind of Newton, and continue to embarrass the 
 philosophers of our own day. We have already 
 spoken of the affinities of reason and instinct. There 
 is, in fact, a border-land, where they are strangely and 
 inextricably blended, each invading the domain of the 
 other, and reciprocally producing changes, which 
 variously affect the functions of both. Acts primarily 
 of reason and volition pass by repetition into habits 
 having the compulsory force of instinct, and often 
 
358 laugel's problems of nature and life. 
 
 transmissible to offspring ; while instincts, forcibly in- 
 terfered with, often evolve new faculties of action, 
 which, if we shrink from calhng them acts of reason, 
 can only be understood as newly-developed forms of 
 instinct — a difficult conception, indeed, in seeking to 
 reahse which we plunge at once into the inner mys- 
 teries of the question. What is the power at work in 
 the purely instinctive acts of animal life ? — in the in- 
 stincts, for example, of the bee, the ant, the spider, the 
 salmon, the beaver, the tailor and weaver birds, and 
 endless others ? The instances most familiar to us re- 
 present in effect the marvel of the whole, and put the 
 question of origin into its most cogent shape. Newton 
 found no other solution than that the Author of life is 
 himself the inoving power in the innumerable forms of 
 instinct — risking in this the charge of pantheism, that 
 barrier at which so many attempts to reach what is 
 unreachable come to an end. 
 
 We cannot err, however, in regarding life, and the 
 generation of life from life, as integral parts of the 
 same great problem. Instincts, define or distinguish 
 them as we will, are strictly appurtenances of gene- 
 ration — of that power which transmits hereditary hke- 
 ness from one generation of a species to another. The 
 question whether, and how far, they are dependent on 
 mere bodily organisation, merges in this, though we 
 can hardly say that it thereby comes nearer to any 
 sure solution. That many instincts have a special 
 organisation adapted to them is too well known to 
 need illustration ; and it is equally certain that 
 changes in organs, arising from external causes, may, 
 
LAUGELS PROBLEMS OF NATURE AND LIFE. 359 
 
 and often do, produce modifications of the natural in- 
 stincts, and render them hereditary in the race or 
 species. But the fact still remains that there are 
 numerous and extraordinary instincts which can in no- 
 wise be interpreted by organisation, though this is 
 used for their fulfilment. The structural peculiarities 
 of certain birds and fishes are necessary for their 
 periodical migrations by land and sea. But the act of 
 migration itself is the marvel ; determinate as to place, 
 time, and method — guided by no sense or reason we 
 can define or conceive, yet fulfilling purposes .with a 
 certitude no reason could attain. Instincts prospective 
 in their nature, as we admire them in the nests of birds 
 — the sexual instincts and those cpnnected with food, 
 appetencies essential to life on the earth — the instincts 
 of the bee-hive and ant-hill, which sacrifice the inte- 
 rests of the individual creature to those of the com- 
 munity — these and endless others come under the 
 same head, as acts not due to reason nor to any 
 apparent structure. 
 
 We are still, then, confronted by the profound pro- 
 blem of a power acting in and through the complex 
 fabric of animal life, of which neither our senses nor 
 reason can render any account. In connecting it with 
 the larger problem of the generation of life from life, 
 we suggest an absolute and necessary relation, but do 
 not solve the mystery. Science is zealously working 
 in this direction, but, as we believe, with an insuper- 
 able barrier at some point in its progress. We have 
 spoken of a border-land between reason and instinct, 
 >vhere these two faculties variously and curiously com- 
 
360 laugel's pkoblems of nature and life. 
 
 mingle. It is here, if anywhere, that we may hope to 
 obtain some enlargement and clearer definition of our 
 knowledge. Little is gained by multiplying examples 
 of individual instincts, wonderful though these be, and 
 meriting a better classification than any yet adopted. 
 What we need and desire is some great work, founded 
 on actual research, but treating the subject also as one 
 of general philosophy, and holding in view certain 
 definite questions for solution. Such are the relation 
 as to priority or causality between the organisation 
 and the particular instincts of species — all that con- 
 cerns the hereditary nature of instincts — their depend- 
 ence on habits and the casual conditions of life, 
 including here the Reparation of species into races — 
 and the influence upon them of reason and the will. 
 These questions, were there no others, present ample 
 material for future enquiry. Time, as well as com- 
 bined and zealous research, will be needed even for 
 their partial solution. But w^e confidently hope for 
 some such work as that we have indicated, giving us 
 closer approach to that mysterious part of life where 
 mental and material functions, intelligence and in- 
 stincts, are linked together, either in co-operation or 
 conflict. One result of all research must be deemed 
 certain — the recognition of an Almighty Power far 
 above our comprehension in its nature and attributes, 
 but ruling throughout all creation, living and lifeless, 
 by laws and forces which we may partially but never 
 can wholly understand. 'I had rather believe,' said 
 Lord Bacon, ' all the fables in the Legend, and the 
 Talmud, and the Alcoran, than that this universal 
 
laugel's problems of nature and life. 361 
 
 frame is without a mind.' To which Archbishop 
 Wh^tely adds, in his note upon the passage : 'That 
 the possession of power, strictly so called, by physical 
 causes, is not conceivable, or their capacity to main- 
 tain, any more than to produce at first, the system of 
 the universe, whose combined existence, as well as its 
 origin, seems to depend on the continued operations of 
 the great Creator.' 
 
 Those who are familiar w^ith the doctrine of Mr. 
 Darwin as to the origin of species — a doctrine now so 
 largely, though not unanimously, accepted in the 
 scientific world — will at once see how closely it is in- 
 terwoven in every part with the topics we have been 
 discussing. The questions of origin, organisation, 
 modes of reproduction and instincts, enter integrally 
 and necessarily into any theory of which life is the 
 subject. The naturalist is amply justified in seeking 
 all possible evidence as to the progressive evolution of 
 genera and species, and their distribution over the 
 earth ; and here Mr. Darwin has rendered services to 
 science which will be fully recognised hereafter, what- 
 ever exception be taken to some of the views he has 
 espoused. But these fundamental questions still re- 
 main, and our knowledge can never be complete as 
 long as they are unresolved. 
 
 In the foregoing article, which we must here close, 
 we have sought to make our readers acquainted with 
 the principal questions and objects of research on 
 which physical science is at this time engaged ; neces- 
 sarily, however, omitting many which might well merit 
 notice. At no period has there been more of gran- 
 
362 laugel's problems of nature and life. 
 
 deur in these objects, or more of genius directed to 
 their investigation. If sometimes this genius rushes 
 beyond human bounds into the inscrutable mysteries 
 of the universe, it is speedily checked by the sterner 
 demand now made for evidence of fact and truth ; 
 while even these forays, as they may be called, of 
 speculative science (in one of which we have ourselves 
 partially indulged), though failing to attain their pur- 
 pose, are not unfrequently useful in disclosing new 
 paths and objects of pursuit collateral to those thus 
 vainly attempted. 
 
363 
 
 MAURY ON SLEEP AND DREAMS} 
 
 [CoNTfilBUTED TO THE ' EdINBUKGH ReVIEW ' IN 1873.] 
 
 We place M. Maury's volume at the head of this 
 article, as one of the most recent and remarkable on 
 the phenomena of Sleep and Dreams. He is among 
 the few authors who have made them the subject of 
 experiment as well as of simple observation. But in 
 reviewing his work we shall have occasion to refer to 
 several others, in which these phenomena are treated 
 of, either especially or as a part of human physiology ; 
 many of them works of much intrinsic value, though 
 not, as we think, wholly exhausting the subject. Atten- 
 tion has been somewhat too exclusively given to the 
 physical causes and conditions of sleep, without adequate 
 notice of the wonderful characters which connect it 
 with the other portion of our existence ; rendering it, 
 through dreams, an interpreter of many of those complex 
 relations of mind and body which have perplexed philo- 
 sophy in every age of the world. Sleep and dreams 
 may justly be deemed one of the great mysteries of 
 our nature. Our knowledge of them is far from having 
 reached the realities of a science. Many of the pro- 
 blems, physical -and pyschological, they involve are 
 among the most profound in mental philosophy, and 
 
 ^ Le Sommeil et les Reves. Par L. F. Alfred Maury, Membre 
 de rinstitut. Troisieme Edition. Paris, 1865. 
 
364 MAURY ON SLEEP AND DREAMS. 
 
 meet us at the very threshold of the enquiry. And if 
 some of these questions do admit of solution, others 
 are so deeply hidden in the ultimate mystery of the 
 mind itself as to be wholly inscrutable by any means 
 human reason can apply to them. 
 
 It may seem strange to many "of our readers that 
 we should preface the subject of Sleep and Dreams by 
 phrases thus grave and forbidding in their tenor. Acts 
 so famihar, and periodically habitual in our lives, might 
 be thought of easy interpretation. The sleep of the 
 rocking -cradle, of the bed, of the arm-chair or car- 
 riage, witnessed in their ever-recurring routine, would 
 seem to tell all that can or need be known on these 
 subjects. But it is this very famiharity which disguises 
 their nature, and begets indifference to the greatest 
 marvel of our existence. This, indeed, is one of the 
 numerous instances where we look heedlessly upon 
 phenomena become habitual to us, but which, seen as 
 solitary or infrequent events, are the subjects of admira- 
 tion or terror. We gaze with careless eye on the daily 
 march of the sun through the heavens, on the midnight 
 magnificence of the starry sky. Our wonder and awe 
 are reserved for the comet or the eclipse. We witness 
 the flowing and ebbing of the ocean and river tides at 
 their calculated times, ignorant or indifferent to the 
 fact that these changes express the action of the greatest 
 law of the universe. Travelling by railroad, we look 
 with idle eyes on those thin wire line!5, traversing the 
 air beside us, which at the very moment are carry- 
 ing currents of electricity under human bidding — 
 the instantaneous transmitters of human language 
 
MAURY OK SLEKP AND DREAMS. 365 
 
 and tliought. We think and speak, we see and hear, 
 breathe and walk, indifferent as to the nature of these 
 marvellous functions, or how their unceasing work is 
 carried on. And well it is for our happiness, and for 
 the integrity of the functions themselves, that it should 
 be so. The mere act of mental attention to any one 
 of them is enough to alter or disturb its natural action 
 — a fact of supreme importance in human physiology. 
 All this is eminently true as regards the subject be- 
 fore us. An habitual indifference to the phenomena 
 of sleep is found as much among men of general in- 
 teUigence as in the mass of the unthinking world. 
 Assembled in the morning round the breakfast-table, 
 we laugh and jest over tales of the dreams of the 
 night; not reflecting that these wild and entangled 
 vagaries — illusions as to persons, time, and place — are 
 part and parcel of that continuous personal identity 
 which at other times manifests itself in acts of reason, 
 discourse, and deliberate functions of the will. We 
 are jesting here upon things which have perplexed the 
 philosophy of all ages. No less a problem than the 
 intimate nature of the human soul is concerned in 
 these phenomena. Where more than a fourth part of 
 life, even in its adult and healthiest stages, is passed in 
 sleeping and dreaming, these functions must be taken 
 as an integral and necessary part of our existence — not 
 less natural than our waking acts, and associated with 
 them by various intermediate phenomena, to which we 
 shall presently allude. These phenomena, indeed, may 
 be said really to maintain that unity of the thinking 
 and conscious being which in other ways they seem so 
 
366 MAURY ON SLEEP AND DREAMS. 
 
 strangely to disturb. A line of rigid demarcation be- 
 tween the states of waking and sleeping might well 
 appear to dissever this unity. But no such line exists ; 
 and it may readily be shown, under appeal to individual 
 experience, that these various states endlessly commingle 
 and graduate into each other ; thus affording mutual 
 illustration, and, as w^e believe, a more intimate know- 
 ledge of the mysteries of the human mind than can be 
 obtained from any other source. 
 
 It would hardly be worth while to preface what we 
 have to say on Sleep and Dreams by citing what ancient 
 writers — philosophers, physicians, and poets — have be- 
 queathed to us on the subject. The phenomena were 
 to them the same as to us — the dream, perhaps, more 
 exciting to the imagination from its connexion with 
 various superstitions of the age. Seeing, indeed, the 
 tendency of their mythology and poetry to deify what- 
 ever is wonderful in man or nature, it is not surprising 
 that they should clothe these great functions of life 
 with a personality, vague indeed in kind, but such as 
 to satisfy the popular and poetic feeling of the time. 
 Nor can we wonder that they should have been the 
 subjects of superstitious belief, seeing how variously 
 and strangely these functions are blended with the 
 spiritual part of our nature. Even now, when science 
 imposes so many new checks upon credulity, the in- 
 spired dream — the ''Ovap e/c Aios — has its occasional 
 place among other still less rational behefs of the world. 
 
 Aristotle, whose chapters on Sleep and Dreams 
 rank foremost of all that the ancients have left us on 
 the subject, says on the question of inspiration of 
 
MAURY OX SLEEP AND DREAMS. 367 
 
 dreams, that it is not easy ' either to despise the evi- 
 dence or to be convinced by it ' {ovre Kara^povrjcrai 
 paSiov^ ovre Tret^i^i'ai). But with his wonted sagacity 
 he indicates the reasons which justify distrust as 
 to a Divine interposition, thus partial and frivolous 
 in its alleged ministrations to man. He sees clearly 
 that the event is often the parent of the prophetic 
 dream, and that in the endless and complex relations of 
 human life it must needfully happen that coincidences 
 often occur without any real relation to the events ' so 
 associated. These chapters of Aristotle well deserve 
 perusal as evidences of the clear and acute inteUigence 
 of this great philosopher. We have acquired more 
 knowledge of the physiology of sleep as a vital func- 
 tion, but in its connexion with dreams are little ad- 
 vanced beyond what he has told us. 
 
 Cicero, in his second book, ' De Divinatione,' dis- 
 cusses the question whether there be a divine influence 
 occasionally embodied in dreams still more largely and 
 conclusively. Called upon to confront strong popular 
 superstitions, he meets them fairly and boldly. But 
 beyond this negative conclusion his treatise does little 
 to illustrate the phenomena or philosophy of the func- 
 tions in question. 
 
 While revelling in the beauty of the poetry, ancient 
 and modern, which has found a theme in sleep and 
 dreams — and none more fertile for fancy to work upon 
 — we cannot look for any fresh knowledge from this 
 source. Lucretius, indeed, with his supreme mastery 
 of verse, comprises something of the philosophy of 
 dreams in his grand description of tliera. From Homer 
 
368 MAURY OX SLEEP AND DREAMS. 
 
 and the Greek dramatists down to Virgil, Ovid, Statins, 
 &c., we have abundant passages finely describing or 
 invoking sleep, but it is the poetry only of the subject. 
 We must not, however, quit this topic without referring 
 to those many striking passages in Shakspeare where 
 the genius of the man revels in the wild, fantastic world 
 of our sleeping existence. He grasped human nature 
 too universally to leave untouched this wonderful part 
 of it. We need but refer to the passages in ' Henry 
 IV.,' ' Eichard in.,' ' Eomeo and Juliet,' 'Macbeth,' 
 and ' Midsummer Night's Dream,' in proof of what we 
 are saying. The memory of our readers will furnish 
 them with numerous other passages on the subject 
 from English, German, and Italian poets, but none, 
 we think, so abounding in thought and poetry as those 
 of Shakspeare. 
 
 We have already stated our reason for taking M. 
 Maury's volume as the text for our article. We learn 
 from his preface that he has zealously devoted himself 
 to the subject for a long series of years, embodying 
 his researches in successive publications, of which this 
 is the latest. These researches comprise certain curious 
 methods of experiment, ingeniously devised, and, as far 
 as we know, never systematically used before. We 
 cannot better illustrate these methods than by giving 
 his own words. After speaking of the need of long, 
 continuous, and cautious observation, to obtain any 
 assured results, he adds : — 
 
 Je m'observe tantot dans mon lit, tantot dans mon 
 fauteuil, au moment ou le sommeil me gagne. Je note 
 
MAURY ON SLEEP AND DREAMS. 369 
 
 exactemenfc dans quelles dispositions je me trouvais avant de 
 m'endormir ; et je prie la personne qui est pr^s de moi de 
 m'eveiller a des instants plus ou moins eloignes du moment 
 oil je me suis assoupi. Eeveille en sursaut, la memoire du 
 reve, auquel on m'a soudainement arrache, est encore presente 
 a mon esprit, dans la fraicheur meme de I'impression. II 
 m'est alors facile de rapprocher les details de ce reve des cir- 
 constances ou je m'etais place pour m'endormir. Je consigne 
 sur un cahier ces observations, comme le fait im medecin 
 pour les cas qu'il observe. Et en relisant le repertoire que 
 je me suis ainsi dresse, j'ai saisi entre des reves qui s'etaient 
 produits a diverses epoques de ma vie, des coincidences, des 
 analogies dont la similitude des circonstances qui les avaient 
 provoquees m'ont bien souvent donne la clef.' 
 
 M. Maury goes on to state tlie necessity of having 
 a coadjutor with him in this inquiry, not solely for the 
 purpose here mentioned of being awakened at particu- 
 lar times, but also for the due observation of what may 
 be called the utterances of sleep. Sounds made and 
 words spoken by the sleeper, must be recorded in rela- 
 tion to the dreams afterwards remembered. Even 
 simple attitudes and movements of the body, especially 
 such as express agitation, require the same record, and 
 for the same purpose. M. Maury mentions his own 
 habits as to sleep, as being singularly favourable to 
 these methods of observation ; and we are well disposed 
 to believe in the results thus obtained. Nevertheless, 
 the chances of error are so great in this land of sha- 
 dows, that we should be glad to find the research taken 
 up by others, with such variations as individual tempe- 
 rament may suggest. It is obvious that the latter point 
 is one of singular importance. The sleep and dreams 
 of one man interpret only partially and doubtfully 
 
 B B 
 
370 MAURY ON SLEEP AND DREAMS. 
 
 those of another, and we must check as well as multiply 
 the proofs before setting down anything as certain. In 
 common life, the very nature of a dream gives a sanc- 
 tion to a loose or exaggerated relation of it. No one 
 is disposed to quarrel with the relater for filling up 
 gaps in his dream with the little parentheses needed to 
 complete his story ; or, if a little of the marvellous be 
 brought into the subject — one of those strange coinci- 
 dences to which the vision of the night contributes its 
 part — we generally find truth more deeply trespassed 
 upon. Stories, vague and loose in their origin, are 
 made more compact by successive additions, and often 
 go on from one generation to another, acquiring a sort 
 of spurious credit from age, and from the impossibility 
 of refuting them by any living evidence. 
 
 We come now more directly to the subject before 
 us, embodying, as M. Maury has done, under a single 
 title our consideration of these great acts of life — Sleep 
 and Dreaming. They cannot, in truth, be treated of 
 separately. Their conjunction is so general, if not uni- 
 versal, and they are linked together by such complex 
 ties, that we are almost compelled to view them as a 
 single function of our being. Still there are certain 
 considerations which must be admitted as possible 
 grounds of distinction. "We cannot prove that the con- 
 junction of sleep and dreams is absolute and universal. 
 There may be times and conditions of sleep, in which 
 there is a total inactivity of brain — a complete absence 
 of those images and trains of thought which form the 
 dream. In connexion with this comes the further con- 
 sideration, that sleep is a necessity of our nature — a 
 
MAURY ON SLEEP AXD DREAMS. 371 
 
 state required for the rest and repair of functions, both 
 bodily and mental, which are incapable of being repaired 
 in any other way. The same cannot be said of dreams. 
 They depend on functions of the brain, which, though 
 unchecked by the senses and the will, and distorted in 
 their mode of action, are yet identical in kind with 
 those which are exercised in evolving the thoughts and 
 emotions of the waking state. The notion of repair 
 and restoration can hardly therefore be associated with 
 the act of dreaming. Frequent experience, moreover, 
 teaches us that what we call ' unrefreshing nights ' are 
 attended by troublous dreams ; and, though this may 
 often admit of other explanation, yet is the fact signifi- 
 cant as regards the distinction just drawn. The repose 
 and restoration obtained from sleep would seem to be 
 in an inverse ratio to the intensity of the dreams at- 
 tending it. 
 
 Is there then any condition or moment of sleep 
 absolutely devoid of dreaming ? a state in which all 
 thoughts and emotions, whether connected or vaguely 
 incongruous, are annulled, and om- mental or conscious 
 existence lost in the simple physical condition of sleep? 
 The import of this question will readily be understood. 
 The answer might seem easy, but is far from being so. 
 Positive proof is wholly wanting, and the only evi- 
 dence attainable is that derived from the memory of 
 the dreamer, or the observations of those who watch 
 him during those hours of which he has no remem- 
 brance. It is certain from such observation, and in- 
 deed from common experience, that dreams are of 
 very frequent occurrence, of which all instant memory 
 
 B B 2 
 
372 MAURY ON SLEEP AND DREAMS. 
 
 is lost. Aristotle, in discussing this very topic, puts 
 the question, why some sleep occurs with dreams, 
 other sleep without? or, if always dreaming, why 
 some dreams are remembered, others not ? The ques- 
 tion, so propounded, marks the clear intelligence of the 
 philosopher. In the memory or oblivion of dreams 
 we trace their connexion with our physical organi- 
 sation, and thus gain a step, though a slight one, to the 
 better understanding of their nature. 
 
 The doubt just denoted as to the universality of 
 dreams during sleep, has continued to our time. If 
 ever resolved, it must be by some such methods as 
 those adopted by M. Maury. He does not himself, in- 
 deed, meet the question in its distinct form, or dwell 
 upon its profound metaphysical relations. Other 
 writers on the subject, among whom we may name Sir 
 ¥/illiam Hamilton, Sir Henry Holland, Drs. Carpenter, 
 Laycock, and Macnish, have severally, in one way or 
 other, encountered this problem. Lord Brougham has 
 grappled with it, amidst the many other questions 
 which exercised his bold and facile pen. He considers 
 dreams an incidental not a constant part of sleep — a 
 sort of fringe edging its borders. Sir W. Hamilton, on 
 the contrary, believes that no condition of sleep exists 
 without dreaming; but all have felt the difficulty of 
 dealing only with incomplete or negative evidence, and 
 the question remains in abeyance for future research 
 or hypothesis to work upon. 
 
 Hypothesis and speculation may well indeed be 
 awakened by this particular mystery of our nature. 
 In theory we cannot affirm that a total suspension of 
 
MAURY ON SLEEP AND DREAMS. 373 
 
 the mental functions is more impossible than the actual 
 changes they undergo in dreaming, in the delirium of 
 fever, insanity, intoxication, and other morbid condi- 
 tions of the brain. The sleep of the newly-born in- 
 fant cannot be construed otherwise than as a state in 
 which sensorial actions either do not exist, or are 
 limited to some vague recurrence of the simple im- 
 pressions made on the untutored senses. An ordinary 
 fainting-fit leaves no trace behind of anything having 
 passed during the time of deliquium. To the patient 
 this time is a nullity of his being. It may be that the 
 memory only is annihilated, that the mind never 
 actually ceases in its workings ; but this view is little 
 more than a subterfuge to meet a difficulty which we 
 cannot otherwise encounter. 
 
 Plunging thus far into the metaphysical perplexities 
 of this question, whether the mind, or sensorial con- 
 sciousness, is actually lost during certain times of sleep, 
 and recovered^ as far as dreaming can be called re- 
 covery, we are bound to notice a doctrine closely 
 connected with this enquiry, to which the name and 
 writings of Dr. Carpenter, Dr. Lay cock, and others 
 have justly given authority. This is, the hypothesis of 
 ' unconscious cerebration ' — so termed, because it sup- 
 poses the brain capable, under certain conditions, of 
 acts or changes, utterly without mental consciousness^ 
 yet strictly analogous to those through which it mini- 
 sters to mental functions — acts of intellect detached, 
 as it were, from the intellectual personality of our 
 being. This is a bold assumption ; but curious cases are 
 produced which might seem to authenticate it; Such 
 
374 MAURY ON SLEEP AXD DREAMS. 
 
 are instances where some question left on the mind at 
 bed-time unsolved, has been found in the morning 
 thorouglily worked out. Verses — Latin as well as 
 English — are said to have been made in the night, 
 with no consciousness of the fact till they came to the 
 morning memory. Nevertheless, we must regard the 
 evidence here as insufficient, seeing how commonly 
 such statements are careless or exaggerated ; how 
 broken and desultory are the conditions and memories 
 of the night ; and how likely it is that the time just 
 antecedent to waking — ' quum somnia vera ' — may be 
 that in which these curious feats are accomplished. 
 The drowsiness of the evening is often as much an 
 impediment to thought as the light sleep of the 
 morning.^ 
 
 We must, then, relegate this matter to the limbo of 
 questions admitting neither of proof nor disproof Like 
 many others, in addition to its intrinsic difficulties, it is 
 encumbered and perplexed by ambiguities of language. 
 The very term of consciousness, so essential to the dis- 
 cussion, has hardly obtained a valid definition in its 
 relation to sleep and dreams — an ambiguous one even 
 in reference to our waking state. Everything, indeed, 
 
 ^ If adopting this term of ^ unconscious cerebration,^ we might fairly 
 apply it to various familiar acts of the waking state. For example: 
 we try to recollect a name or word, fail to do so, and abandon the 
 attempt. Soon afterwards, without intermediate consciousness or effort, 
 the name in question rushes upon the memory, as if by a sudden inspira- 
 tion. What has here been the intervening cerebral process ? 
 
 In alluding to this common vagary of memory, we may notice ano- 
 ther closely connected with it. A word is forgotten, and sought for in 
 vain. But its initial letter, or some vague image of the word, hangs 
 upon the mind, often furnishing a clue to its recovery. Such instances, 
 trifling though they seem, serve well to illustrate the curious mechanism 
 of this great faculty of our nature. 
 
MAURY ON SLEEP AND DREAMS. 375 
 
 that concerns personal identity — the Ego of the dif- 
 ferent stages and states of our being — has been under 
 the dominion of unsettled terms in all ages of philo- 
 sophy. Words have not inaptly been called ' the 
 counters of wise men, and the money of fools.' But 
 even the wisest have been unwittingly governed by 
 them in questions thus obscure or insoluble. 
 
 Quitting, however, this region of hypothesis, we 
 willingly come to the more practical part of the sub- 
 ject—that which we learn from observation and expe- 
 rience regarding these phenomena. Here we must 
 again mention the liabilities to error, which occur even 
 in the simplest form of such investigation. Besides 
 those already noticed, we find another in the un- 
 doubted diversity of the phenomena in different indi- 
 viduals. The writer on sleep and dreams is not 
 entitled to repose on his own experience only. A 
 dozen persons would probably give as many different 
 versions of their particular consciousness in the matter ; 
 and it is not easy to draw averages from these fleeting 
 shadows of the night. They change with age, and 
 other conditions of life, moral and intellectual, which 
 govern sleep and the dreams associated with it. The 
 simple, but touching lines, 
 
 ' Thou hast been called, Sleep, the friend of woe. 
 But 'tis the happy who have called thee so,' 
 
 point at one familiar source of this diversity, but there 
 are many others, of which we shall speak hereafter. 
 
 In prosecuting the subject, w^e must first refer 
 again to Sleep in its general sense, as the function of 
 
376 MAURY ON SLEEP AND DREAMS. 
 
 life, destined to the restoration of those vital powers 
 which are exhausted or impaired by the very act of 
 living. Here we are on firmer ground. Wliatever 
 anomalies may present themselves, it is certain that 
 sleep fulfils, and is intended to fulfil, this great office 
 of our nature. That which is taught us by universal 
 experience is amply confirmed and illustrated by phy- 
 siological inquiry. The wonderful power, to which 
 various names have been given, but which may best, 
 and most simply, be described as nerve-force — an ele- 
 ment acting through the brain and nervous system in 
 all the phenomena of sensation, of motions voluntary 
 and reflex, and of every function essential to animal 
 life — is now so far subjected to research, that even the 
 velocity of its transmission through the nerves of sen- 
 sation and voluntary motion has been approximately 
 ascertained. This eminent discovery, and the subtle 
 methods by which it was accomplished, warrant the 
 hope that further research may accompHsh a similar 
 numerical expression for the amount or quantity of 
 the nerve-force at any given time — a matter bearing 
 still more directly on the subject before us. If, in- 
 deed, this were attained, it would be only formulating 
 in figures a fact of the reality of which we are well 
 assured. We know that the force in question, thus 
 acting through the total nervous system of the body, is 
 the product {secretion we may venture to call it) of a 
 pecuhar organised tissue — that it varies in» amount in 
 different individuals, and in the same individual at dif- 
 ferent times — that it is exhausted, more or less, by the 
 vital actions, bodily and mental, to which it ministers 
 
MAUEY ON SLEEP AND DREAMS. 377 
 
 — and that it can only be restored by food and sleep, 
 each severally needed for the process of repair. This 
 manner of viewing the nerve-power, or force, as an 
 element to be estimated by quantihj — by excess as 
 well as deficiency — we beheve to be not only just in 
 itself, but denoting a principle of singular value in 
 every part of physiology, and through physiology, in 
 pathology and the treatment of disease. Mr. Herbert 
 Spencer, in commenting on this subject with his 
 wonted ability, thus expresses the main facts, in which 
 all other writers on Sleep more or less concur : — 
 
 ' Between this state (of sleep) and the waking state, the 
 essential distinction is a great reduction of waste. The rate 
 of waste falls so low, that the rate of repair exceeds it. It is 
 not that during the period of activity waste goes on without 
 repair, while during the period of inactivity repair goes on 
 without waste, for the two always go on together. Very pos- 
 sibly — probably even — repair is as rapid during the day as 
 during the night. But during the day the loss is greater 
 than the gain ; whereas during the night the gain is dimi- 
 nished by scarcely any loss. Hence results accumulation. 
 There is a restoration of the nerve-tissue to its state of in- 
 tegrity.' 
 
 Here, then, is a force, an agent, whether we call it 
 material or not, generated within the body, necessary 
 in its nature to all the functions of the body, but ex- 
 hausted in maintaining them, and requiring periods of 
 rest for its reproduction in adequate amount. When 
 calling sleep ' Nature's kind restorer,' we use a poetical 
 phrase, but express a physical fact. It is the restorer 
 of that which is expended and lost. Its intermittent 
 periods, its duration and degree, and even many of 
 
378 MAURY OX SLEEP AND DREAMS. 
 
 what seem its anomalies, have all reference, more or 
 less direct, to this great function of repair — a function 
 fulfilled, it may be, simply by suspension or modifica- 
 tion of those actions which exhaust the nervous power, 
 while reproduction of this force is going on — or pos- 
 sibly by changes in the brain itself, an effect of the 
 conditions to which it is submitted in sleep. 
 
 For it must be remembered that sleep repairs not 
 the vital functions only, but simultaneously those func- 
 tions which we distinctively describe as mental attributes, 
 and of which the brain is, to our present limited com- 
 prehension, the organic instrument. The intellectual 
 part of our nature, taking the phrase in its largest 
 sense, is exhausted by its continued exercise, in like 
 manner as the bodily organs, and requires the same in- 
 termittent periods of repose and repair. 
 
 If other proof were needed of the great function 
 which sleep fulfils in the economy of life, it may at 
 once be found in the effects which follow the privation 
 of this repair. A single sleepless night tells its tale, 
 even to the most careless observer. A long series of 
 such nights, resulting, as often happens, from an over- 
 taxed and anxious brain, may often warrant serious 
 'apprehension, as an index of mischief already existing, 
 or the cause of evil at hand. Instances of this kind, 
 we believe, are fiimiliar to the experience of every 
 physician. 
 
 But here, as in so many other cases, the evil of 
 deficiency has its counterpart in the evil of excess. 
 Sleep protracted beyond the need of repair, and en- 
 croaching habitually upon the hours of waking action. 
 
MAURY OX SLEEP AXD DREAMS. 370 
 
 impairs more or less the functions of the brain, and 
 with them all the vital powers. This observation is as 
 old as the days of Hippocrates and Aretaeus, who 
 severally and strongly comment upon it. The sleep of 
 infancy, however, and that of old age, do not come 
 under this category of excess. These are natural con- 
 ditions, appertaining to the respective periods of life, 
 and to be dealt with as such. In illness, moreover, all 
 ordinary rule and measure of sleep must be put aside. 
 Distinguishing it from Coma, there are very few cases 
 in which it is not an unequivocal good ; and even in 
 the comatose state, the brain, we beheve, gains more 
 from repose than from any artificial attempts to rouse 
 it into action. 
 
 There is another point to which we must here advert, 
 in connexion with sleep as a function of repair. This is 
 the fact familiarly known, that the portion of life so 
 destined is not limited to man alone, but goes far 
 down in the scale of animal creation — possibly, or pro- 
 bably, in one form or other, to the lowest grade and 
 condition in animal life. Tlie sleep even of plants has 
 become a phrase, not merely of poetic fancy, but of 
 scientific appropriation. The curious facts regarding 
 the hybernation of certain animals, though they have 
 kindred with the phenomena and even theory of ordi- 
 nary sleep, yet present anomalies which associate them 
 in some way with the vegetable world. But the cir- 
 cumstance of greatest interest in this matter is the 
 capacity for dreaming^ so clearly and curiously attested 
 in those animals which come nearest to man in the scale 
 of being. How far that condition which can rightly be 
 
380 MAURY ON SLEEP AND DREAMS. 
 
 defined as dreaming descends in the scale, it would be 
 impossible to say. Probably there is a gradation down- 
 wards in the same ratio as the sensorial faculties, and 
 vanishing with them. The fact of dreaming in the 
 higher animals is most familiar to us in the Dog — that 
 noble creature — ad hominum commoditates generatus, 
 as Cicero says of him — at once a companion and solace 
 to man, and a subject for profound thought to all who 
 care to reflect on the great problem of our relations to 
 the inferior animal creation. The admission of the 
 fact does not, however, carry us beyond the presump- 
 tion that the dreams of other animals are a vague copy 
 of the sensations and acts of their waking lives ; with 
 little of the intellectual part — if such it may be called 
 — of the human dream. ' To urge in dreams the forest 
 chase ' is the happy phrase of a poet, than whom no 
 one better knew, or better loved, the Dog. And nothing 
 is more likely than the fact here presumed. But seeing 
 the difficulty of rightly remembering and expounding 
 human dreams, there can be little chance of penetrating 
 the mystery as presented to us in another and lower 
 scale of being. 
 
 Thus far we have been speaking of the general 
 characters of Sleep as a function of life. In what 
 follows we shall seek, upon our own observation and 
 that of others, to describe the phenomena more in de- 
 tail; associating them with those of Dreams, from 
 which, as we have seen, they can hardly be separated, 
 even should there be certain conditions of sleep wholly 
 free from this kindred. 
 
MAURY OX SLEEP AND DREAMS. 381 
 
 The first step we have to make here is one essential 
 to any successful prosecution of the inquiry. It is 
 based on the clear recognition of the fact, that sleep, 
 thus associated, is not one state merely, but a multiplicity 
 and continuous succession of states ; varying at every 
 moment in kind or degree ; graduating from the first 
 yawn of drowsiness to the most profound sleep, and 
 undergoing similar changes in the transition from this 
 to the state of perfect wakefulness. Even thus simply 
 stated, it will be seen how completely this fact governs 
 and gives guidance to the whole enquiry, rendering its 
 conditions, indeed, more complex, but affording a clue 
 to many collateral phenomena otherwise wholly inex- 
 plicable. Sir H. Holland, who has two chapters on 
 Sleep and Dreams in his volume of ' Mental Physiology,' 
 strongly advocates this mode of treating the subject. 
 We avail ourselves of a short passage from one of these 
 chapters in illustration of our meaning : — 
 
 ' Sleep, then, in the most general and. correct sense of the 
 term, must be regarded not as one single state, but a succes- 
 sion of states in constant variation — this variation consisting, 
 not only in the different degrees in which the same sense or 
 faculty is submitted to it, but also in the different propor- 
 tions in which these several powers are under its influence at 
 the same time. We thus associate together under a common 
 principle all the phenomena, however remote and anomalous 
 they may seem — from the bodily acts of the somnambulist ; 
 the vivid but inconsequent trains of thought excited by 
 external impression ; the occasional acute exercise of the 
 intellect ; and tlie energy of emotion — to that profound 
 sleep in which no impressions are received from the senses, 
 no volition is exercised, and no consciousness or memory is 
 
382 MAUHY ON SLEEP AND DREAMS. 
 
 left on waking, of the thoughts and feelings which have 
 existed in the mind.' 
 
 To this we may add, that such mode of regarding 
 sleep brings its phenomena into closer relation with 
 those of our waking existence, making them serve to 
 mutual illustration, and to the solution of many 
 anomalies whieh depend on this relation, and the 
 manner in which the two states graduate into each 
 other. It is impossible, indeed, for anyone at all ob- 
 servant of the facts to regard sleep as a single or simple 
 function. We know that through the nervous system 
 and circulation of the blood all parts of the body, and 
 more especially the organs of sense, are affected and 
 altered by it. But these changes of state are ever 
 varying in the same organ, as well as in the different 
 organs of our complex frame ; and the inter-relations 
 thus produced, were they more accessible to observa- 
 tion, would give us deepest insight into this mysterious 
 part of our nature. Every organ may be said to have 
 a sleep of its own. The several senses, the voluntary 
 power, the functions of the brain in their totality, are 
 not merely affected in different degrees at different 
 times, but are differently affected in degree at the same 
 time. These facts are now generally recognised by 
 physiologists. Bichat (a man of original genius, pre- 
 maturely lost to science) thus tersely expresses them : — 
 ' Le sommeil general est I'ensemble des sommeils par- 
 ticuliers.' M. Maury, though less explicit in his state- 
 ment of it, manifestly adopts the same view, which, in 
 truth, affords theonly just definition of sleep, and its 
 concomitant phenomena. It is the view, moreover, 
 
MAURY ON SLEEP AND DREAMS. 383 
 
 which most clearly expounds the relation of these phe- 
 nomena to the acts and changes of the waking state — 
 a connexion which, however perplexed to our reason by 
 the question of personal consciousness, will be found 
 more intimate the closer we look into it. As in the 
 series of waking thoughts, sudden changes are often 
 made by impressions from without, so, as regards sleep 
 and dreams, we may presume that the breaches which 
 occur in their continuity depend on causes external 
 to the brain itself, though, from the nature of the case, 
 less open to observation. The links may escape ob- 
 servation, but we cannot hesitate in bringing these 
 phenomena under the general law of continuity, so 
 universal throughout nature, organic or inorganic, 
 living or lifeless. This law, scarcely recognised in 
 philosophy or science before the time of Leibnitz, is 
 now receiving confirmation from every new discovery, 
 and becoming the interpreter of endless phenomena 
 hitherto unexplained. Leibnitz himself applies it to 
 the question of the suspension of thinking in sleep ; 
 deeming it impossible, on this consideration, that such 
 entire suspension should ever really occur. 
 
 We shall speak more explicitly hereafter on the 
 physiology of sleep as regards the physical changes 
 concerned in producing or modifying it. But there are 
 various other facts, natural or abnormal, belonging to 
 the physiology of this function of life, which require 
 previous notice : some of them indeed so strangely 
 anomalous as to have furnished food at once to sober 
 philosophy and to the wildest dreams of credulity. We 
 may best begin with what we may call the natural 
 
384 MAURY OX SLEEP AXD DREAMS. 
 
 conditions of sleep, while admitting that these ever 
 tend to graduate into more abnormal phenomena. 
 
 The various epithets applied to sleep — profound 
 sleep, heavy sleep, light sleep, broken sleep, &c. — 
 express actual realities of state ; but these so mingled 
 with each other, so fitful in change, and so perplexed 
 by the vagaries of dreams and disturbing causes from 
 within and without, that even the sleeper himself is 
 generally at fault in defining them. ' I have not slept a 
 wink,' is often the piteous exclamation of the morning, 
 when only some short portion of the night has been 
 made wakeful and restless by disordered digestion, or 
 one of those compulsory trains of thought which fasten 
 pertinaciously on the mind, despite every effort to 
 shake them off. But, though we cannot measure the 
 amount of sleep by hours, or the consciousness of the 
 sleeper, there is much real difference in its degree in 
 relation to the great function of repair. A certain 
 quantity of work is to be done, but it is done at very 
 different rates. This diversity occurs in different per- 
 sons, and in the same person at different times. One 
 hour in one case may comprise as much of what is true 
 sleep, as two or many hours in another ; and the only 
 fair or probable test is to be found in the greater 
 or less difficulty of arousing the sleeper by external 
 action on the senses of touch and hearing. Individual 
 temperament of body and mind, habits of life, and the 
 immediate antecedents of sleep, are all concerned in 
 this matter. The Duke of Wellington, in that hour of 
 his recorded sleep on the field of Salamanca, when the 
 two armies were closely pressing to their conflict, pro- 
 
MAURY OX SLEEP AXD DREAMS. 385 
 
 bably slept more soundly than any of the idlers of a city 
 life at home. The ' Somnus agrestium lenis virorum' of 
 Horace, is more powerfully expressed by Shakspeare in 
 describing the dreamless sleep of the day-hireling, 
 
 ' Who with a body fill'd and vacant mind, 
 Grets him to rest, cramm'd with distressful bread, 
 Sleeps in Elysium,' &c. 
 
 And who can forget that noble sohloquy in the Second 
 Part of ' Henry IV.,' where the king upbraids Sleep for 
 deserting ' the perfumed* chambers of the great,' and 
 giving its repose to the wet sea-boy in the midst of 
 storms ? — 
 
 ' Wilt thou upon the high and giddy mast 
 Seal up the ship-boy's eyes and rock his brains 
 In cradle of the rude imperious surge ? ' 
 
 We might well go on through the whole of tliis won- 
 derful passage. If forgotten by anyone, it ought 
 promptly to be renewed to memory. 
 
 We need not dwell further on a fact so famihar to 
 common experience. But the diversity of forms which 
 sleep assumes is more interesting to the physiologist in 
 its relation to the particular organs and functions 
 affected by it. We have already alluded to this topic ; 
 one which, associated as it is with the phenomena ot 
 dreams, offers a special mode of mental analysis as con- 
 nected with material organisation, and may even in 
 certain cases be made the subject of experiment. It 
 does not, indeed, carry us farther into the mystery than 
 a similar analysis of the waking state. But in showing 
 how the two states commingle and graduate into one 
 another, it serves as a fresh proof of the unity of our 
 
 c c 
 
886 MAURY ON SLEEP AND DEEAMS. 
 
 nature ; and explains many of those anomalous condi- 
 tions which seem to violate this unity, and have fur- 
 nished food for credulity in all ages. 
 
 Pursuing this analysis of the functions affected in 
 sleep, the external senses — sight, hearing, and touch 
 — are most obvious to famihar observation. Their sen- 
 sibility is suspended to all ordinary impressions coming 
 from without ; and there are degrees, even of natural 
 sleep, so profound — davdroi Srf^ia-ra ioiKcos — that it is 
 difficult to arouse them from it. We cannot affirm 
 that all the senses are equally affected at the same time; 
 though under the conditions of sound and healthy 
 sleep it is probable that they are so. In the passage 
 from drowsiness and somnolence into actual sleep, it is 
 interesting to note (and to a certain point the sleeper 
 can do this for himself) the dimness gradually over- 
 shadowing those subtle organisations which connect us 
 with the outer world. The condition is one so familiar 
 that we are wont to regard these changes — if regarding 
 them at all — rather as matter of amusement than curi- 
 osity. To the physiologist, looking on them with more 
 watchful eye, they become the interpreter of much that 
 is of deep interest to his science. 
 
 These natural and simpler conditions of sleep may 
 be studied in various ways, but in no manner so effec- 
 tually as by watching the moments of passage 2/2 ^6> sleep 
 and the passage out of it. Each by circumstances may 
 be rendered so sudden as to leave little scope for ob- 
 servation. But, under ordinary conditions, the passage 
 is gradual enough to allow those successive changes to 
 be marked which occur both in bodily and sensorial 
 
MAURY OX SLEEP AND DREAMS. 387 
 
 functions during this transition state. Take the instance 
 of slumber supervening on a dull book, an easy arm- 
 chair, a warm fire, and other appliances of repose. 
 The somnolent himself is conscious of the early changes 
 — the apprehension becoming dull, the page before 
 him dim or partially lost to sight, the head nodding, 
 the book tottering in his hands. Out of this state he 
 may be momentarily aroused by some sound or excite- 
 ment from without, or even by the loss of that muscular 
 instinct or balancing power^ as we may call it, which 
 belongs to the waking state. He is startled by the book 
 dropping from his hands, or the sudden fall of the 
 head, but speedily lapses again into somnolency, ending 
 in more perfect sleep. Here the consciousness of 
 change ceases to himself; but in this gradation of state, 
 and even in what may be deemed the soundest sleep, 
 an observer without, if diligent in his watch, will detect 
 many curious changes going on ; due to the influence 
 of passing dreams, of nervous sensations from the action 
 of the vital organs within, and even from bodily posture. 
 These are the changes to which M. Maury's methods of 
 observation, already mentioned, especially apply. They 
 are abundantly furnished by those nights of broken 
 and disordered sleep which must be counted among 
 the ills of man, though too often only the penalty paid 
 for his luxury or other faults of life. 
 
 The most interesting part of such inspection is what 
 may be termed the disseverment of the Will from the 
 organs habitually acted upon by it. This is often 
 strikingly testified during the passage from perfect 
 sleep to the waking state. The sensibility is awakened 
 
 c c 2 
 
388 MAURY ON SLEEP AND DREAMS. 
 
 before the Will, or rather we must say (for the very- 
 word is entangled in a metaphysical web) before Voli- 
 tion can bring the muscles into action. In the latter 
 stage of sleep, when dreams are passing into realities 
 of the senses, there is often an effort to speak, made 
 distressing by the difficulty or impossibility of utter- 
 ance. Or when under sleep in a sitting posture, the 
 head, deprived of the controlHng muscular support, has 
 dropped upon the chest, the attempt to raise it is often 
 for a time painfully frustrated by the impotence of the 
 muscles in their relation to the will. At such times 
 volition is more awake than the instruments through 
 which it acts. 
 
 We have just mentioned the curious knowledge 
 that may be obtained from broken or imperfect sleep. 
 The rapidly-shifting changes and alternations of sleep 
 and waking which then occur, can only be interpreted 
 by regarding the two states as gliding gradually, 
 physically and mentally, into each other — interlacing^ 
 it might be called, from the impossibihty of drawing a 
 definite line between them. Dante, with his wonted 
 compression of language, finely describes this transi- 
 tion : — 
 
 ' E '1 pensamento in sogno trasmutai.' 
 
 In this intermediate condition, as already remarked, 
 and especially during the passage from drowsiness into 
 natural sleep, these alternations may generally be noted 
 by the sleeper himself, though, from their familiarity, 
 little heeded or remembered. Under certain circum- 
 stances they may even be counted as they occur. From 
 the slumber over a book, or in a carriage, or, yet more, 
 
MAURY ON SLEEP AND DREAMS. 389 
 
 in any situation where, from necessity or decorum, a 
 struggle has to be made against sleep, we obtain an 
 easy estimate, sufficient to know how rapid are the 
 fluctuations which thus affect the most important organ 
 of our frame. . A sudden drop of the head awakens to 
 consciousness, which is often lost again in a few 
 seconds of time ; and such alternations, as is well 
 known, are repeated over and over again. Anyone 
 who has passed a dozen or twenty hours on horseback 
 (we speak from frequent experience) must well recol- 
 lect the effects of this hurried repetition — the loss of 
 balance from momentary slumber, the sudden awaking 
 in the effort to retrieve it, and the distressing efforts to 
 prevent relapse into sleep. Without pretending to 
 exactness in a matter thus vague and fluctuating even 
 in the terms applied, we venture to say on observation 
 that three or four distinct alternations of sleep and 
 waking — that is, of consciousness lost and restored — 
 may, and do, occur within a single minute of time. 
 Strange and sudden as these changes in our sensorial 
 existence may seem to be, they are yet compatible 
 with that continuity by gradation, already indicated as 
 the sole method of rightly interpreting the phenomena. 
 Connected with this subject is the curious chrono- 
 metry so often impressed upon sleep, testified by the 
 power of awaking invariably at some one determinate 
 horn-. The explanation of this fact must be sought for 
 in what may be called the general chronometry of life ; 
 in the tendency, more or less, of all vital functions to 
 assume a periodical character, either from original 
 constitvition, or from engendered habits acquiring the 
 
390 MAURY OX SLEEP A]S^D DREAMS. 
 
 force and persistency ot natural functions. This topic 
 has hardly yet received all the attention it deserves as 
 a branch of animal physiology. It might merit a trea- 
 tise in itself. 
 
 We have hitherto been speaking chiefly of what 
 may be considered as the natural form of sleep. But 
 there are many anomalous aspects of this great function 
 which we are equally bound to notice — some of them 
 depending on casual and not always obvious causes — 
 others on artificial means used to produce sleep or 
 those states akin to it in which there is a suspended 
 action, more or less, of the senses connecting us with 
 the outer world. Some of these states, which may well 
 be called waking dreams^ are of deep interest in the 
 mental and moral, as well as physical relations they 
 disclose to us ; involving the intellectual faculties, and 
 even the emotions, as well as the simple functions of 
 the senses. 
 
 Somnambulism, though we may class it among the 
 anomalous aspects of sleep, is probably not more than 
 an exaggerated form of phenomena of ordinary occur- 
 rence. The retention of a certain voluntary power, 
 while the senses are more or less wrapt up in slumber, 
 and this unequal slumber of the senses themselves, are 
 well known to us in the common case of talking in 
 sleep, and other bodily motions associated with dreams. 
 Somnambulism is doubtless always thus associated. 
 Why in certain persons this connexion is so strikingly 
 attested it would be hard to say ; but still it is only a 
 gradation of state, and not a detached phenomenon. 
 
MAURY ON SLEEP A2s^D DREAMS. 391 
 
 We may further presume (and many incidents related 
 confirm this view), that somnambuHsm chiefly occurs 
 during the time when the cerebral functions are already 
 partially awake — another expression of the fact upon 
 which we have so much dwelt, that sleep is a series of 
 states ever fluctuating in kind and degree. We may 
 accredit the statement that the passing dreams of those 
 so afiected are rarely remembered ; and yet reconcile 
 this with the view we have just taken of the phenome- 
 non. The startling aspect of somnambulism, and the 
 rarity of its occurrence, liave given a mysterious 
 colouring to this condition of sleep, and even made it 
 a theme for dramatic representation, for poetry, and 
 music. Like all other things unfamiliar to ns, it is 
 doubtless the subject of much exaggeration in par- 
 ticular instances. But enough remains to render it a 
 striking exponent of these complex relations of the 
 sensorial and other functions, in which so many of the 
 mysteries of life have their source. 
 
 In following the history of sleep and dreams w^e 
 are perpetually passing from one marvel or mystery to 
 another. It may seem, perhaps, that these terms do not 
 apply to the familiar effect of opiates and other soporifics 
 in producing sleep. But it is this familiarity which con- 
 ceals from us the w^onder of the fact, that a mere grain 
 or two swallowed of a particular vegetable extract 
 should have the i)ower for a time of bringing the 
 whole mental and bodily mechanism under its control ; 
 or that a still more minute quantity of opium or 
 morphia, inserted under the skin, should speedily sub- 
 due the most acute neuralgic pain. A physical cause 
 
392 MAURY ON SLEEP AND DEEAMS. 
 
 must be concerned in all this, but no known physical 
 law can be brought to its explanation. The only 
 scope for speculation here is that afforded by reference 
 to other facts more or less alike in kind. The whole 
 class of poisons, as they are termed, may be quoted as 
 instances of such analogy ; some of these bodies — 
 Strychnia, Woorara, the Upas-poison, &c. — furnishing 
 curious examples of what may be called selective power 
 in their action on the respective organs and functions 
 of the body. The animal poisons, again, those which 
 give material to contagious diseases, come under the 
 same category. In all these cases there lies the great 
 mystery of vital organs seized upon, and life itself 
 often extinguished, by quantities incredibly small of 
 substances, the elements of which, combined in other 
 proportions, are perfectly innocuous in effect. We 
 may seek to explain these things upon the theory of 
 fermentation, and the doctrines of atomic and mole- 
 cular affinities, but never do we get further than to 
 'possibilities^ incomprehensible to our reason. 
 
 Within the same field of enquiry come those anses- 
 thetic agents of artificial creation — Ether, Chloroform, 
 the Nitrous Oxide, &c. — which, while inducing a state 
 of stupor, more or less profound, do, at the same time, 
 so wonderfully annul the sensibility to pain. The 
 records of modern surgery copiously illustrate the prac- 
 tical value of this great discovery, which under its 
 theoretical aspect is closely associated with the nature 
 and phenomena of sleep. It affords another example 
 of the manner in which these various states of the 
 sensorium graduate into one another throughout. 
 
MAURY ON SLEEP AND DREAMS. 393 
 
 We have yet to speak here of certain other pheno- 
 mena, in which sleep, or states akin to it, assume still 
 more anomalous and startling forms. We allude to 
 conditions of the sensorium, occurring in persons of a 
 peculiar temperament, and often associated with bodily 
 or mental disorder, which are known under the names 
 of trance^ catalepsy^ mesmeric sleep^ &c. — names almost 
 as vague as the aberrations they denote. These several 
 states, and even the more familiar incidents of reverie 
 and absence of mind, have all a certain community of 
 character, the differences being chiefly of degree, or due 
 to the immediate causes producing them. They all 
 furnish examples of that disseverment, so to express it, 
 of the sensorial functions, which leaves a portion of 
 them awake, while others lie in a state of slumber 
 more or less profound. What we have said, and shall 
 further have to say, of dreams in their relations to 
 sleep, may perhaps afford the best interpretation of 
 many of these strange phenomena. 
 
 As regards the most notable of them — Mesmeric 
 sleep — so much has been written and argued to and 
 fro, and the simple question, as it first stood, been 
 turned into so many collateral channels, that we shall 
 not seek to go beyond what is essential to our subject. 
 Is there, we may ask, any such special form or mode 
 of sleep as that denoted under this name — produced 
 by a certain subtle influence, emanating from one 
 person, and affecting, even without actual contact, the 
 body of another ? We may say at once that neither 
 in the sleep so produced, nor in the collateral effects 
 assigned to it, do we find anything that has not kindred 
 
394 MAUEY OX SLEEP AND DREAMS. 
 
 with the natural phenomena of sleep and dreams, and 
 which is not explicable by the anomalous forms these 
 so often assume without any external influences. As 
 regards the simple efiect in question, we believe we 
 might as well speak of sermon sleep, of rocking-cradle 
 sleep, of the sleep of an easy arm-chair, or of a dull 
 book, as of Mesmeric sleep. The experiments of Mr. 
 Braid, embodied under the name of Hypnotism, show 
 the effects even of posture or fixed direction of vision 
 in bringing on this state. So multiplied and various, 
 indeed, are the conditions, bodily and mental, tending 
 to it, that the marvel of being awake is almost as great 
 as that of sleep produced by the manipulations and 
 other appliances which the mesmeriser brings to his 
 aid. Among these appliances we must especially 
 reckon the age, sex, and personal temperament of 
 those who are usually the subjects of these exhibitions. 
 Anyone who cares to examine the records of them 
 will see how important is the part these conditions 
 play in the drama of mesmerism. 
 
 Granted that the facts are strange and difficult of 
 explanation. But so, and from the same causes, are 
 all the ordinary phenomena of sleep and dreams. 
 Their familiarity disguises what is equally wonderful in 
 them. It is well worthy of note in this, as in many 
 other questions of the kind, how much subordinate 
 objects usurp the place of those of higher import. In 
 the so-called mesmeric phenomena, as proffered to our 
 belief, the mesmeriser plays a far more important part 
 than the person acted upon. The facts presented pass 
 into utter insignificance, vuiless it can be shown that 
 
MAURY ON SLEEP AND DREAMS. 895 
 
 they depend upon some direct emanation of power 
 from the former. Prove that such influence actually 
 issues from one living being, thus changing the con- 
 dition of another in its proximity, and we have a new 
 and wonderful element, material or spiritual, brought 
 at once into the arena of life. It is admitted, indeed, 
 that this mysterious power is possessed by few indi- 
 viduals only — a limitation, if the facts be real, almost 
 as strange as the power itself. But we may at once 
 state our belief that no such peculiar power exists. 
 The operator himself cannot furnish evidence of it. 
 The effects he produces by his manipulations and other 
 devices are closely analogous, often identical, with 
 those to which individuals of a certain nervous tem- 
 perament are liable from other and very different 
 exciting causes. This, then, we apprehend to be the 
 crucial question in all that appertains to mesmeric 
 sleep, under its various aspects. The simple fact of 
 sleep thus produced was known long ago ; but it was 
 reserved for our time to erect it into a mysterious 
 principle, altering, were it real, all our views of mental 
 phenomena. 
 
 But that it would be straying too far from our 
 subject, we might speak here of certain bolder imposi- 
 tions upon human credulity which have gained a 
 recent notoriety. Connected in some points with 
 mesmeric effects, and often admitting of similar inter- 
 pretation, they go far beyond these in their preten- 
 sions ; bringing us into contact and communication 
 with the world of deceased spirits, througli the inter- 
 vention of persons — mediums as they are called— 
 
396 MAURY ON SLEEP AND DREAMS. 
 
 gifted with the power of thus summoning spirits from 
 the dead. We put this in the simplest terms, because 
 the mere enunciation of it may well annul the gross 
 pretension it involves. And when examining further 
 into the methods employed to exhibit and attest these 
 spiritual appearances — the puerile and pantomimic de- 
 vices of spirit-rapping, table turning, &c., and the 
 vulgar and ignorant talk which these revenans are 
 made to utter, we may be content to leave such things 
 to their own eventual refutation. Argument is of little 
 avail with those who can lend a facile faith to these 
 fantastic performances, rendered more suspicious by a 
 mercenary ingredient often mixed with them. The 
 contrivances employed vv^e cannot always explain. 
 But exactly the same may be said of the performances 
 of the fair-dealing professional conjurer, who puzzles 
 and tells you that he means to do so. That some very 
 intelligent men should have given partial credit to 
 these illusions, is but another example of the incon- 
 gruities which are found even in minds of the highest 
 genius and culture. Human life abounds in such in- 
 stances. 
 
 We have thus far been speaking of Sleep in its 
 more general characters, natural or anomalous ; con- 
 necting it, indeed, with that wonderful adjunct of 
 Dreaming, from which it can hardly be separated. 
 But some distinct consideration must be given to the 
 latter — to those fleeting shadows, the /xt/xr^/xara ^a>^s, 
 which so strangely divide, yet Hnk together, the suc- 
 cessive portions of our hves. In writing on this sub- 
 
MAURY ON SLEEP AXD DREAMS. 397 
 
 ject, the plural personality of an anonymous reviewer 
 becomes somewhat inconvenient. If we have to speak 
 of our experience, it must be understood only in an 
 individual sense. Here, indeed, we may fairly ask our 
 readers to become critics also ; for each and all have 
 some experimental knowledge of their own, where- 
 with to confirm or contradict what is set before them. 
 But this knowledge, from causes already assigned, is 
 generally vague and transient. The memory of the 
 dream is speedily discarded by the waking events that 
 follow, and dreams are often so intermingled in the 
 same night that no effort of recollection can disentangle 
 them. We doubt if anyone has ever attempted a suc- 
 cessive written record of these erratic visions of our 
 sleeping hours. If carefully and honestly executed, it 
 would be more curious than many of those diaries of 
 ordinary events which amuse the leisure, or innocently 
 please the little vanities, of those who keep them. A 
 certain number of records of dreams, coming from 
 authentic sources, and indicating especially their rela- 
 tions to acts or events immediately or remotely antece- 
 dent, might justify conclusions attainable in no other 
 way — a shadowy science, it may be admitted, yet 
 better than none. 
 
 "We have used the term honestly here, because from 
 causes already assigned there is much proneness to 
 exaggeration, as well as great facility for it, in the re- 
 lation of dreams. To give completeness to a vague 
 story is a temptation to the narrator, and it may be 
 indulged without fear of contradiction. This tempta- 
 tion becomes stronger where a certain superstitious 
 
398 MAUKY ON SLEEP AND DREAMS. 
 
 feeling creeps in, suggested, as we have elsewhere re- 
 marked, by some one of the many strange coincidences 
 of events which, casual though they be, take strong 
 hold of the imagination. We might vivify our subject 
 by half-a-dozen stories of such dreams ; some of them 
 of old date, but keeping their vitality as anecdotes by 
 the seeming mystery they involve. It is needless to 
 say that these stories lose nothing of their marvellous 
 character by long repetition. The original dreamers, 
 we believe, would often be perplexed by the shapes 
 their dreams have gradually assumed, with positive 
 affirmation at each step of the story. A simple ques- 
 tion will often disturb narratives of this kind. We 
 recollect an instance where the mystery related was a 
 dream by an officer in America of the death of a 
 friend in India, whose death was stated to have 
 occurred at the very hour of the dream. A dry 
 sceptic at the table blighted the anecdote by asking 
 if due allowance had been made for the difference of 
 longitude of the two countries ? So few of these 
 harmless superstitions are left to us, that the interrup- 
 tion to the story might have been charitably spared. 
 
 We have already said much of the marvel of 
 dreams, as a portion of life alternating with the higher 
 functions of the waking state. Contrasting the two 
 states, it could hardly be supposed that one should be 
 the best expounder of the other. Yet such is in 
 reality the case. Dreams, even in their strangest in- 
 congruities, are in no way so well interpreted as 
 through the acts of the mind awake. The law of 
 continuity is preserved here also, though often and 
 
MAURY ON SLEEP AND DREAMS. 399 
 
 variously infringed upon by those complex and inter- 
 mingling relations of body and mind to which, whe- 
 ther awake or asleep, we are unceasingly subjected. As 
 vfefeel and recollect them in ourselves, and note them 
 in others, dreams go through every grade of intensity 
 and reality ; and this, probably, in a certain inverse 
 ratio to the soundness of the sleep. We are using 
 here terms of vague acceptation thus applied, but we 
 possess no true vocabulary for the functions in ques- 
 tion. What we may affirm is, that sleep in its purely 
 physical part, and dreams in their aberrant intellectual 
 phenomena, are ever acting upon each other, and in 
 every degree of activity ; such mutual influence being 
 especially testified in the acts of going to sleep and 
 awakening from it. It is the same mysterious union 
 which pervades and gives continuity to life, and which 
 has excited and baffled curiosity in every age of the 
 world. 
 
 We have already discussed the question which here 
 naturally recurs, whether there is any condition of 
 sleep utterly devoid of dreaming? The vague and 
 broken memories of dreams tell nothing certain as to 
 their time or dm^ation, and without this aid we are 
 helpless as to any sure result. But, though failing in 
 this particular case, the memory is the faculty on 
 which we must mainly depend for our knowledge of 
 them, and of the enigmas they present. Aristotle, as 
 already noticed, put the question pertinently, ' Why do 
 we remember some dreams, others not ? ' — implying, 
 of course, what we know by observation, that the 
 state of dreamint? exists even when there is no after 
 
400 MAURY OX SLEEP AND DREAMS. 
 
 recollection to attest it. The question admits of being 
 plausibly answered. The best remembered dream is 
 that which immediately antecedes the moment of 
 waking, when the functions suspended by sleep have 
 partially regained their power. The dream itself, in- 
 deed, especially if sensational in kind, is often the 
 direct cause of the change of state ; and such dreams 
 may occur repeatedly in the same night, each leaving 
 its own impress on the brain. Whether there be any 
 absolute blank in this complex series of changes is the 
 question yet unsolved. Bearing on this point is the 
 fact that dreams forgotten in the morning are some- 
 times suddenly recalled by later incidents of the day. 
 A clue once got through some casual association, the 
 recollection often retraces these past visions of the 
 night, which, but for such casualty, would never have 
 been revived. 
 
 We must not, however, speak of their annihilation. 
 Dreams leave traces on the brain, the same in kind, 
 though perhaps less forcibly marked than those im- 
 pressed by the sensations, emotions, and volitions of 
 the waking state. We may plausibly from this source 
 seek explanation of those vague shadows of past events 
 which now and then come across the mind, perplexing 
 it wdth a sort of semi-reality, but not attested by any 
 collateral recollection. Most of our readers have pro- 
 bably experienced this curious wandering of the mind 
 amidst what we believe to be the shades of old dateless 
 dreams, called suddenly into life, and as suddenly flit- 
 ting away. If this be, as we suppose, an act of 
 Memory reviving ancient dreams, it is but one of the 
 endless w^onders of this great faculty of our nature, the 
 
MAURr ox SLEEP AXD DREAMS. 401 
 
 study of which, under its many anomalies — in health 
 and disease, in its sleeping as well as waging moods — 
 carries us further into the mystA'y of the mind itself 
 than we can reach by any other approach. That there 
 is a certain material mechanism of memory, an or- 
 ganisation upon which impressions are made and re- 
 tained, the facts compel us to beUeve. Whether we 
 shall ever acquire a more intimate knowledge of its 
 nature is very doubtful. The minute anatomy of the 
 human brain and its appendages, while disclosing much 
 that is curious in structure and in relation to the senses 
 and vital organs, has failed to detect any apparatus of 
 memory, or those conditions which make recollection 
 an act of the human will. 
 
 Ignorant here, we are still able to affirm that the 
 memory and the recollection (fij/T/jfjur), dvdiJbvr](TLs ; the 
 faculty and the act) are strictly analogous in their ap- 
 plication to the visions of the niglit as to the events of 
 the day. In each case the recollection works its back- 
 ward way through the successive antecedent states of 
 the sensorium ; guided by the same associations, and 
 stopped by the same impediments. Anyone caring to 
 examine his own consciousness on the subject will see 
 how similar the process is in kind, though, as regards 
 the dream, rendered more partial and perplexing by 
 the other conditions of sleep. 
 
 But we may carry this analogy on to another point. 
 Many anecdotes are familiar to us, and these sanctioned 
 by individual observation, showing how much and 
 what variety of thought, emotion, and event may be 
 comprised in a dream of the briefest duration. The 
 
 D D 
 
402 MAURY ON SLEEP AND DREAMS. 
 
 chronology of the night is generally an obscure one ; 
 but this particular fact is easily tested, especially in the 
 broken dreams of the morning hours. It proves that 
 the period of a few minutes may include a whole story 
 of incidents, in which the perceptions of place, time, 
 and persons are removed from the outer world into 
 those of the little world within. This may seem strange 
 to the unobservant of themselves, but it will not so 
 seem to any who are capable of examining with care 
 the sequence of their waking thoughts. We live, the 
 mind lives, in a constant series or succession of states, 
 each one having its own individuality and excluding 
 others, yet linked together by a mechanism which we 
 vainly seek to interpret. ^ No one without close exami- 
 nation can conceive the multitude of these sequent 
 states which may be, and actually are, crowded into 
 short spaces of time — ever liable, indeed, to be inter- 
 rupted by causes from without and within, and merging 
 into new series, which in their continuous succession 
 form the totality of our mental life. Of the internal 
 causes acting on these series, the Will is that most im- 
 portant — often, indeed, a slave to vagrant habits of 
 thought, but capable of becoming their master. The 
 highest faculty of man, intellectual and moral, lies in 
 the power of controlling and guiding them in their 
 passage through the mind ; so directing them as to en- 
 noble the character of thought itself, and the acts 
 derived from it. 
 
 Without pursuing this subject, instructive though it 
 be as a method of mental analysis, we proceed to ano- 
 ther chapter in the History of Dreams, embodied in 
 
MAURY ON SLEEP AND DREAMS. 403 
 
 the question, What are the materials of these visions of 
 our sleep ? Of what ' stuff are dreams made ? ' The 
 first and natural comment upon the question is, that 
 dreams, like waking thoughts, must be different in dif- 
 ferent minds, and with some exphcit reference to their 
 individuality. Such is doubtless the case, and among 
 classes of men as well as individuals. We have already 
 alluded to this curious inquiry, one admitting of the 
 strongest presumption, if not of direct proof. Passing 
 by the dreams of infant life, as inaccessible to observa- 
 tion, can we suppose those of the idle schoolboy to 
 be moulded like the dreams of a man immersed in 
 worldly care and anxieties? or like those of old age 
 wandering vaguely over the memories and feelings 
 of past hfe ? How are we to compare the dreams 
 of the day-labourer in the field, the factory, or the 
 mine, with those of men whose faculties have been 
 exercised and exalted by literature, science, and the 
 arts; or by the political struggles which enter into 
 the government of the world .^ The sleeping minds 
 of Bacon and Newton, of Dante, Shakspeare, and Mil- 
 ton, of Michel Angelo and Eaphael, of Julius Csesar 
 and Napoleon, must have been tenanted with visions 
 very different from those of ordinary men. Who, 
 again, can tell us what are the dreams of madness 
 in its many forms, some of these forms having close 
 kindred physiologically with the act of dreaming? 
 The dreams of the idiot may resemble those of early 
 childhood, or the second childhood of old age. What 
 shall we conjecture as to those of the man who has 
 undergone years of solitary confinement, changeless in 
 
 D D 2 
 
404 MAURY ON SLEEP AND DREAMS. 
 
 sensations and events ? Such questions miglit be vari- 
 ously multiplied. They tell us how much we have to 
 learn, and the difficulty of learning it. Hardly can 
 we reduce into shape the fleeting memories of our 
 own dreams. Harder still is it to authenticate those 
 of others, especially of classes of mankind little prone 
 to take account either of their sleeping or waking 
 existence. 
 
 A word more here as to the relative rapidity with 
 which the successive images and thoughts of dreams 
 pass through the mind. The analogies we have been 
 pursuing may again give an answer. Though we can- 
 not bring numbers into the question, we have every 
 reason to beheve that the succession of mental acts, 
 while awake, is habitually more rapid in some minds 
 than others, and even in the same mind at different 
 times. We think more rapidly^ as well as inore vividly 
 in one state of the sensorium than in another. If this 
 be so, we may fairly presume the same as to the con- 
 ditions of dreaming in different minds. But we cannot 
 go beyond this presumption. 
 
 Eeverting to the question before us, what are the 
 materials out of which dreams are formed ? The ob- 
 vious and sole answer is — from the sensations, ideas, 
 emotions, acts, and events of antecedent life. Putting 
 aside all notions, ancient or modern, of supernatural 
 intervention, the phenomena of waking existence are 
 those alone to which we can look for their interpreta- 
 tion. The passage of Cicero, quoted below, while well 
 expressing this fact, denotes also those strange perturba- 
 tions, which form the distinctive character of dreams 
 
MAUEY ON SLEEP AND DEEAMS. 405 
 
 and the great mystery of their nature.^ We can under- 
 stand (or fancy we understand) the memories of past 
 images or events impressed upon the brain. But the 
 manner of their grouping in the mind during sleep is 
 the marvel with which we are here concerned. 
 Loosened from all fetters of time and place, and freed 
 from control of the will, the dream makes a little 
 world of its own, bringing into strangely broken suc- 
 cession scenes which have no counterpart in actual 
 life; conjunctions of persons, places, time, and incidents, 
 which never did or could have occurred in such combi- 
 nation. The complete dream disregards all realities. 
 It brings the dead back among the living without sur- 
 prise to the dreamer, and embodies them in the en- 
 tangled stories which have no recollected beginning or 
 end ; which run abruptly into one another ; confuse 
 personal identities ; and blend impossibilities with the 
 most common incidents of life. Shakspeare has well 
 called dreams, ' the children of an idle brain.' That 
 power in fact is dormant which gives sequence and con- 
 gruity to the acts of the waking mind. 
 
 But still, even here, analogies press closely upon us. 
 The images of sensible objects occurring in dreams 
 would seem to be closely akin to those which the 
 memory furnishes to the mind awake, either by effort 
 of will or by mere automatic connexions of thought. 
 In this case, as in the other, they are vague and fleeting. 
 No effort of will can long detain them before the waking 
 consciousness ; and in dreams, unaided by will, they 
 
 * ' Animus incidit in visa varia et incerta, ex reliquiis inhserentibus 
 earum rerum quas vigilans gesserit aut cogitavit ; quarum perturbatione 
 mirabiles interdum existunt species somniorum.' 
 
406 MAURY OX SLEEP AND DREAMS. 
 
 are still more transient and disjointed. In both cases 
 objects of vision minister chiefly to this subjective action, 
 while the waking mind can create by will, or receive 
 unbidden, a sensorial memory of rhythmical sounds, 
 clothing itself often in actual melodies, the reflex music 
 of the brain. This latter point, in its various physiolo- 
 gical connexions, has scarcely had its due share of 
 attention. 
 
 Eegarding, then, the images of dreams, however 
 perturbed in order, as derived from those of daily life, 
 we still have to ask the question, whether this mimic 
 imagery ever goes beyond, with inventions new to the 
 senses ? We think not. We may dream of the Centaurs 
 or the winged Assyrian bulls, as we have seen them in 
 the British Museum, but we do not in our sleep create 
 monstrosities of this kind. Under the most fantastic 
 grouping of persons and incidents, the individual images 
 are not unnatural or distorted. We beheve this to 
 be so ; but here, as often elsewhere on this subject, 
 we must ask our readers to consult their own ex- 
 perience. 
 
 That dreams, however, are generally formed out of 
 unwonted or impossible combinations of events, and 
 that they undergo sudden and fantastic changes as 
 regards persons, times, and localities, are facts familiar 
 to all. These three sources of disorder are, indeed, 
 mainly concerned in the illusions of the night. The 
 personages of the dream appear and disappear, shift, 
 and interchange their acts and positions with magical 
 rapidity. The realities of time and place are lost in 
 the medley of incidents of which the vision is composed. 
 
MAURY ON SLEEP AND DREAMS. 407 
 
 One dream passes into another, as far as consciousness 
 and memory can inform us, without continuity or con- 
 nexion. This description, however, needs to be quah- 
 fied in more than one respect. We have already 
 remarked that the act of dreaming is varied by the 
 greater or less completeness of the conditions which 
 constitute sleep. As the time of awakening approaches 
 these conditions change ; the sensorial powers are 
 partially revived, and the dreams, though still perhaps 
 erratic in the points just mentioned, are more consecu- 
 tive and consistent in the events they include. ' We 
 may repeat our belief that to this fact we must look for 
 explanation of those singular stories of problems solved, 
 verses composed, and arguments logically pursued 
 during the hours of sleep. 
 
 Again, as respects the erratic character of dreams, 
 analogy is not wanting for its illustration. The mind 
 awake, or nominally so, often wanders almost as 
 strangely. Let anyone, even when thoroughly awake 
 and under ordinary circumstances, seek to retrace the 
 successive thoughts or mental acts of the antecedent 
 half-hour. Unless the mind be engaged on some 
 single and definite object, he will find the task difficult 
 and laborious ; and if partially successful in tracking 
 backwards these sequent states, the chance is that they 
 will be found variously broken and divergent, in effect 
 of impressions from without or of internal conditions 
 of the brain and other organs. Though we are all 
 living in this unceasing series of mental changes, few 
 take note of them, or mark how rapid and abrupt 
 they often are even in the calmest moods of mind. 
 
408 MAURY ON SLEEP AND DREAMS. 
 
 All such aberrations are repeated and exaggerated in 
 dreams. The brain, physically affected in sleep, loses 
 more or less those perceptions of time, place, and per- 
 sonality which are wont to guide the succession of 
 mental acts. In the varying degrees of this influence 
 we may best find explanation of many of the anomalies 
 of somnambulism, trance, hypnotism, hysteria, &c., of 
 which we have already spoken. Here, however, as in 
 many questions of like kind, the explanation merely 
 removes one difficulty to bring us in contact with 
 others yet more insuperable. 
 
 It has been a question how far the course and 
 objects of dreams can be changed by external stimuli 
 applied to the several senses of the dreamer. Such 
 excitements, it is well known, may be applied as to 
 modify variously the conditions of sleep without ac- 
 tually suspending it. The cradle of the sleeping child 
 affords sufficient evidence of the fact. Shakspeare had 
 this matter in his ever-pregnant mind when he brings 
 in Queen Mab as a fairy experimentalist upon dreams. 
 But graver experiments have been made on the sub- 
 ject — some of them due to M. Maury himself. Though 
 we cannot doubt the reality of such influence in dif- 
 ferent modes and degrees, seeing what we gather both 
 from analogy and observation, yet are the particular 
 proofs of difficult attainment, and experiments need to 
 be often repeated and varied to give them their ap- 
 propriate value. We have more certainty as to the 
 influence of the internal organs on the course and 
 character of dreams. The digestive organs more espe- 
 cially — disordered, it may be, by the dinner of the pre- 
 
MAURY ON SLEEP AKD DREAMS. 409 
 
 ceding day — betoken the hestema vitia by troublous 
 sensations and troubled dreams. Few so prudent as not 
 to have had experience of nights thus disturbed. The 
 nightmare is familiar as one example ; but the par- 
 ticular effects are as numerous as the disorders 
 producing them. The sensations arising from the 
 excretory organs mingle themselves variously also with 
 the incidents of dreams. Even posture, temperature, 
 a hard or soft bed, have effect in modifying them, by 
 altering the conditions of the sleep with which they 
 are associated. Such influences cannot be doubted, 
 difficult though it is to bring the facts into strict 
 evidence. Dream-land is not the land of logic or close 
 scientific induction. 
 
 Though less practically important, there is a deeper 
 interest in tracing the connexion of dreams with the 
 events of prior life, whether immediately or remotely 
 antecedent. It may perhaps be affirmed that even in 
 the most entangled series of incidents haunting the 
 brain of the dreamer, there is always interwoven 
 something of his own individuality, present or past. 
 We have elsewhere spoken of the influence of personal 
 temperament and habits of life on the character of 
 dreams. Lucretius in some fine lines describes this, as 
 does Chaucer in a striking passage of good old English 
 verse. To the inimitable Queen Mab of Shakspeare 
 we have just referred. But apart from all authority in 
 verse or prose, we know from unequivocal experience 
 how faithfully particular traits of character, emotions, 
 passions, and personal propensities are portrayed in 
 the dream. The feeUngs thus reffected from our 
 
410 MAURY ON SLEEP AND DREAMS. 
 
 waking lives, if sometimes pleasant, are often harass- 
 ing and painful ; rendered so in part by the physical 
 conditions of sleep, and the impotence of the will in 
 regard to bodily functions. There is the feeling of 
 something to be done which we cannot do — of en- 
 tanglement in difficulties which we cannot throw off — 
 the hurried pursuit of some object which we cannot 
 reach — the effort to speak without the power of utter- 
 ance — dreams which often awaken the sleeper, and 
 from which, especially where painful memories are in- 
 volved, it is happiness to be awakened. In young 
 children, however, who do not so readily dissever the 
 real from the unreal, the images and agitation of a 
 fearful dream often continue for an hour or two after 
 sleep has come to an end. 
 
 It is a saying of Sir Thomas Brown, 'Virtuous 
 thoughts of the day lay up good treasures for the night. 
 Men act in sleep in some conformity to their awakened 
 senses. Dreams intimately tell us of ourselves.' We 
 remember to have read a sermon — and a very able 
 one — inculcating the examination of dreams, as a 
 means of recognising and rebuking our faults. They 
 do in truth often denote not merely the grave, but also 
 those lighter shades of character which are lost to our 
 consciousness in the current and familiar events of the 
 day. 
 
 We doubt whether the sense of personal identity is 
 ever absent in dreaming, though some writers have 
 supposed it to be so. Language here is incompetent 
 to express things which even thought fails to compre- 
 hend. But w^e may perhaps affirm that the conscious- 
 
MAURY OX SLEEP AND DUEAMS. 411 
 
 ness applied to these visionary events, however strange 
 and incongruous their nature, is in essence the same as 
 that which underhes our waking existence. To pursue 
 the matter further would be merely to clothe poverty 
 of knowledge with a garment of words. 
 
 The events immediately preceding dreams might 
 naturally be expected to minister materials to them 
 more largely than those of distant date. And such 
 may probably be the case, especially when mental 
 emotions are mingled with these events. But we may 
 well marvel at the remoteness of those scenes of past 
 life to which our retrospective dreams often extend. 
 Incidents are repeated, and personalities restored, now 
 never present to the waking thoughts of the dreamer, 
 and which might seem wholly effaced from memory. 
 Here again, as so often before, we come to analogy as 
 the best mode of illustrating, if not explaining, these 
 mysteries, and of bringing them into accordance with 
 the unity and identity of our being. The memories of 
 past life embodied in dreams have close kindred w^ith 
 those evoked by incidents, often very slight, of our 
 waking hours. We know nothing of the actual nature 
 of the impressions or images thus latent in the brain ; 
 but there they are — dormant, it may be, for ever, yet 
 capable of being revivified at any time, sleeping or 
 waking, by coming into sudden relation with present 
 sensations, emotions, or thoughts. In sleep these dis- 
 tant memories are usually vague and dateless — when 
 awake they receive correction from the senses and 
 other faculties. Their origin, however, is the same ; 
 and the further we press such examination the more 
 
412 MAURY OX SLEEP AND DREAMS. 
 
 intimate will be found the relations and resemblances 
 disclosed. 
 
 We have spoken already of those pale spectra of 
 former dreams, as we may best deem them, which now 
 and then flit across the memory, strangely mingling 
 with passing events. Another phenomenon akin to this 
 is the curious hold on the brain which certain dreams 
 seem to acquire ; shown by their frequent recurrence, 
 with the same general incidents and feelings, yet with- 
 out any actual reality of origin. Every observer of 
 himself may here have his own particular tale to tell ; 
 but the general fact will probably be recognised. We 
 know an instance where six such dreams, frequently 
 but irregularly recurrent, and this during a period of 
 very many years, are well attested by close observation 
 of the person who is the subject of them. We may 
 presume, though we cannot prove, that the peculiar 
 grasp of these visions on the sleeping mind — the ' dreams 
 of dreams,' we may call them — depends on the force 
 of the impressions in which they originated — 
 strengthened, it may be, by repetition. In all our 
 reasonings on these obscure points we are forced to 
 recur to the conception just stated of actual material 
 changes — utterly incomprehensible in their nature — 
 made and infixed on the brain, and probably most 
 forcibly impressed at those times of life when the 
 mental faculties are in greatest vigour. Admitting the 
 latter fact, it explains to us several seeming ano- 
 malies of memory ; such as the frequent and vivid 
 recollections in advanced age of the events of earlier 
 life, while those] of recent occurrence vanish speedily 
 
MAURY ON SLEEP AND DREAMS. 413 
 
 from the mind ; and as regards dreams, the similar 
 wandering of the brain among past memories, when 
 present sensations are dimmed by age, and hfe itself is 
 beginning to assume the character of a dream. 
 
 One point remains to be noticed, of which, however, 
 notwithstanding its deep interest to mental physiology, 
 we shall only briefly speak. This is the relation of 
 sleep and dreams to those abnormal or diseased states 
 of mind which we call insanity — though, indeed, a 
 single term feebly expresses the multiform shapes of 
 such disorders which observation unhappily brings before 
 us. A manifest distinction offers itself here in the out- 
 set. The one condition is natural, and periodical only — 
 the other is abnormal, and more or less permanent. 
 But, nevertheless, there are certain links connecting 
 them which cannot be overlooked — relations noticed by 
 Cicero and other ancient writers, and more explicitly 
 described by several eminent authors of our own time.^ 
 Many of the strange hallucinations of insanity, though 
 less changeful and fleeting than those of the dream, yet 
 have various characters in common with the latter. 
 Such especially are those where the mind may be con- 
 sidered wholly in a subjective state — the brain coining 
 images, ideas, and associations within itself, uncorrected 
 by the senses, or by any clear memories of the past. 
 The singular phenomena of spectral illusions^ in which 
 the sense of hearing also is concerned, furnish a striking 
 
 ^ * Quod si ita paratum esset, ut ea dormientes agerent, quae somiiia- 
 rent, alligandi omnes essent, qui cubituni irent.' (Cicero De Divinatione, 
 lib. ii. 59.) In the valuable work on the ' Physiology and Pathology of 
 the Mind,' by Dr. Maudsley, will be found much that relates to this 
 interesting topic. 
 
414 MAURY ON SLEEP AND DREAMS. 
 
 example of this connexion. Images of objects which 
 have no reahty, voices equally imaginary, haunt the 
 brain of the madman as they do that of the dreamer — 
 less urgently, indeed, in the latter case, and with power- 
 lessness as to any consequent action, yet still marking a 
 state of the sensorium common to both conditions. 
 
 We might dwell further on this subject, and its 
 curious relations to the phenomena of ecstacy, hysteria, 
 the delirium of fever and drunkenness. But even if 
 not admonished by want of space, we should be taxing 
 the patience of our readers too severely by detaining 
 them longer in this region of shadows, where realities 
 and mockeries are so strangely intermingled, and 
 where mental and bodily states mutually excite, 
 control, or partially annul one another, leaving a long 
 page of problems to be solved, if such solution be 
 ever possible. 
 
 The only topic now remaining to us is that of the 
 physical causes proximately concerned in producing 
 sleep and dreams. Here, again, notwithstanding re- 
 searches recently directed to this part of physiology, 
 and valuable works describing them, we are still forced 
 upon the admission of diversity of opinion and imper- 
 fect knowledge. These researches have chiefly regarded 
 the influence of the circulation upon the functions of 
 the brain, and upon sleep, as one of the most important 
 of them. This varying influence is recognised in every 
 part of the body, and at every minute of life ; but the 
 cerebral circulation has specialities distinguishing it 
 from that of any other organ. The confinement of the 
 brain within the close cavity of the cranium, and the 
 
MAURY ON SLEEP AND DREAMS. 415 
 
 peculiar distribution of the arterial and venous system 
 in the medullary and cineritious substance, in the 
 membranes and sinuses of this organ, have embarrassed 
 hitherto every question on the subject. It has been 
 the most general opinion of physiologists that a certain 
 amount of pressure on the brain, chiefly from conges- 
 tion of venous blood, was necessary for the state of 
 sleep. More recently, this opinion has been modified, 
 if not contradicted, by the experiments of Mr. Durham, 
 Dr. Hammond, and others ; furnishing evidence that 
 sleep depends on a lessened quantity and force of blood 
 in the brain, and especially in the arterial part of the 
 cerebral circulation. Though this inference is fortified 
 by various known facts, such as the sleep produced by 
 exposure to intense cold, by loss of blood, by pain, and 
 other causes of vital exhaustion, it still leaves the phy- 
 sical theory an ambiguous one ; embarrassed by our 
 ignorance of the relative proportions of arterial and 
 venous blood during sleep — by questions as to the 
 mode of action of the vascular portion of the brain 
 upon the medullary and other cerebral tissues — and by 
 a further question, of higher interest but harder of 
 solution, viz., the nature of those changes in the cere- 
 bral substance itself through which dreams, and other 
 concomitant phenomena of sleep, have their origin. 
 
 The latter question involves difficulties which, with 
 all just regard to the prowess and high attainments of 
 modern science, we must yet believe to be insuperable. 
 It is in truth the selfsame problem as that put before 
 us by the normal and waking state of our sensorial 
 existence. The dream of the night is connected with 
 
416 MAURY OX SLEEP AND DREAMS. 
 
 the same organisation which ministers to the sen- 
 sorial functions of the day. Through the microscope 
 and other means much has been discovered of the 
 minute anatomy of the brain and its appendages. 
 Medullary cells and fibres, ganglionic centres, and new 
 nervous intercommunications have been disclosed ; and 
 though less assuredly, certain functions localised as 
 regards the parts of the brain fulfilling them. But of 
 the infinitesimal motions and changes in the nervous 
 substance itself, we are as entirely ignorant as we are 
 of that mystery which associates these changes in 
 invisible mechanisms with the intellectual and spiritual 
 part of our nature — with the sensations, thoughts, 
 memories, and emotions, which in their succession and 
 combinations constitute the mental being of man. We 
 must not indeed vaunt our knowledge of the brain 
 until all dispute is settled as to the functions of the 
 Cerebellum — one of the most prominent parts of the 
 cerebral system, and unquestionably fulfilling functions 
 essential to the integrity of the whole. 
 
 What, however, we are mainly concerned with here 
 is the fact that actions analogous in kind, though 
 variously altered in operation, occur alike in the sleep- 
 ing and waking brain. In reasoning upon the physical 
 causes of these phenomena, we do not reach our end 
 in merely proving the influence of changes in the 
 cerebral circulation and of varying pressure thus pro- 
 duced. We advance a step, but only one step, by this 
 demonstration; leaving it unsettled whether the ex- 
 haustion of nerve force, the primary cause of sleep, is 
 not also the immediate cause of these very changes in 
 
MAURY OX SLEEP AND DREAMS. 417 
 
 the vascular system of the brain. The many cases 
 where sleep, or states closely akin to it, can be pro- 
 duced by causes in which the circulation is little, if 
 indeed at all, concerned, but where the nervous system 
 is directly and powerfully acted upon, suffice to show 
 how important is the influence of the latter in con- 
 nexion with these complex and ever-changing pheDO- 
 mena. 
 
 A treatise on Sleep and Dreams, to be complete, 
 should comprise also the pathology of these states, and 
 the remedies — useful or useless — which have been sug- 
 gested to remove ' or relieve the disorders affecting 
 them. These topics, however, belong rather to profes- 
 sional works, and we cannot here do more than refer 
 to them, important though they are to the physiologist 
 as well as to the physician. It has been our object in 
 the foregoing article, which we now bring to a close, 
 to place before our readers simply and clearly what we 
 may best call the Natural History of Sleep and Dreams. 
 While avoiding as far as possible all technical language 
 and the metaphysical subtleties into which such ques- 
 tions are prone to pass, we have sought to inculcate 
 larger and more distinct conceptions of these great 
 functions of our inner life, the very familiarity of which 
 obscures them to our contemplation. And at the same 
 time we have endeavoured, by pointing out the close 
 relations and analogies of the phenomena to those of 
 our waking existence, to establish here, also, that con- 
 tinuity and identity of Being, upon which these pheno- 
 mena on first view seem so strangely to infringe. 
 
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 The Stepping-Stone to Geo- 
 graphy : Containing several Hun- 
 dred Questions and Answers on 
 Geographical Subjects. 
 \%mo. is. 
 
 The Stepping-Stone to Eng- 
 lish History; Questions a7id An- 
 swers on the History of Ejiglajid. 
 iSmo. IS. 
 
 The Stepping-Stone to Bible 
 Knowledge; Questions and An- 
 swers on the Old and New Testa- 
 ments. 
 iSmo, is. 
 
 The Stepping-Stone to Bio- 
 graphy; Questions and Answers 
 on the Lives of Eminent Men and 
 Womefi. 
 i^mo. is. 
 
 The Stepping-Stone to Irish 
 
 History : Containing several Hun- 
 dred Questiofis and Ajiswers on 
 the History of Ireland. 
 iSmo. is. 
 
 The Stepping-Stone to French 
 
 History: Containing several Hun- 
 dred Questions and Answers on 
 the History of Fi-ance. 
 iSmo. is. 
 
 The Stepping-Stone to Roman 
 History : Containing several Hun- 
 dred Questions and Answers on 
 the History of Ro7ne. 
 iSmo. IS. 
 
 The Stepping- Stone to Grecian 
 
 History: Containing several Hun- 
 dred Questions and A7isiuers on 
 the History of Greece. 
 iSmo. IS. 
 
 The Stepping-Stone to Eng- 
 lish Grammar : Containing seve- 
 ral Hmdred Questions and A71- 
 swers on English Grammar. 
 i%mo. is. 
 
 The Stepping-Stone to French 
 
 Prontinciation and Conversation : 
 Containing several Hundred 
 Questions and Answers. 
 iSmo. IS. 
 
 The Stepping-Stone to Astro- 
 nomy : Containing several Hm- 
 dred familiar' Questions and 
 Answers on the Eai'th and the 
 Solar and Stellar Systems. 
 iSmo. is. 
 
 The Stepping-Stone to Music: 
 Containing several Hundred 
 Questions on the Science; also a 
 short History of Music. 
 iSmo. IS. 
 
 The Stepping-Stone to Natu- 
 ral History : Vertebrate or Back- 
 boned Animals. Part I. Mam- 
 malia; Part II. Birds J Reptiles, 
 Fishes. 
 
 iSmo. is. each Part. 
 
 The Stepping-Stone to Archi- 
 tecture; Questio7is and Answers 
 explaining the Principles and 
 Progress of Architecture from the 
 Earliest Times. 
 
 With 100 Woodcuts. iSmo. is. 
 
INDEX. 
 
 Acton's Modem Cookery 39 
 
 A irds Blackstone Economised 39 
 
 Alpine Club Map of Switzerland 33 
 
 Alpine Guide (The) 33 
 
 Amos 5 Jurisprudence 10 
 
 Primer of the Constitution 10 
 
 A ndersons Strength of Materials 20 
 
 Armstrong' s Oxg2imQ. QhQm\%\.xy 20 
 
 Arnold's (Dr.) Christian Life 29 
 
 '- Lectures on Modern History 2 
 
 Miscellaneous Works 12 
 
 School Sermons 29 
 
 Sermons 29 
 
 (T, ) Manual of English Literature 1 2 
 
 Arnoulds Life of Lord Denman 7 
 
 Atherstone Priory 39 
 
 Autumn Holidays of a Country Parson ... 13 
 
 Ayre's Treasury of Bible Knowledge 38 
 
 5«f5«'j Essays, by Whaiely 10 
 
 Life and Letters, by 5/^i/^/«^ ... 10 
 
 Works 10 
 
 Bain's Mental and Moral Science 11 
 
 on the Senses and Intellect 11 
 
 Bakers Two Works on Ceylon 32 
 
 5a//'j Guide to the Central Alps 38 
 
 Guide to the Western Alps 38 
 
 Guide to the Eastern Alps 38 
 
 Becker's Charicles and Gallus 34 
 
 ^/ar/&'j Treatise on Brewing 39 
 
 Blackley's German-English Dictionary 15 
 
 Blaine's Rural Sports 36 
 
 Bloxam's Metals 20 
 
 Boultbee on 39 Articles 28 
 
 Bourne's Catechism of the Steam Engine . 27 
 
 Handbook of Steam Engine 27 
 
 * Treatise on the Steam Engine ... 27 
 
 Improvements in the same 27 
 
 Bawdier s Family Shakspeare 35 
 
 Bramhy-Moore s Six Sisters of the Valley . 39 
 Brande's Dictionary of Science, Literature, 
 
 and Art 22 
 
 Bray's Manual of Anthropology 22 
 
 Philosophy of Necessity 11 
 
 ^r/w/^/^y'^ Astronomy 17 
 
 Browne's Exposition of the 39 Articles 28 
 
 Bruner s lAie oi Brunei 7 
 
 Buckle's History of Civilisation 3 
 
 Posthumous Remains 12 
 
 Bull's Hints to Mothers 39 
 
 Maternal Management of Children . 39 
 
 Burgomaster's Family (The) 39 
 
 Burke's Rise of Great Families 8 
 
 Vicissitudes of Families 8 
 
 Busk's Folk-lore of Rome 34 
 
 Valleys of Tirol 33 
 
 Cabinet Lawyer 39 
 
 Campbell' s NorNB-Y 33 
 
 Gates' s Biographical Dictionary 8 
 
 and Woodward's Encyclopaedia ... 5 
 
 Changed Aspects of Unchanged Truths ... 13 
 
 Chesney's Indian Pohty 3 
 
 Modem Military Biography 3 
 
 Waterloo Campaign 3 
 
 dough's Lives from Plutarch 4 
 
 Colenso on Moabite Stone &c 32 
 
 's Pentateuch and Book of Joshua. 32 
 
 Speaker's Bible Commentary ... 32 
 
 Collins s Mineralogy of Comwall 27 
 
 Perspective 26 
 
 Commonplace Philosopher in Town and 
 
 Country, by A. K. H. B 13 
 
 Comte's Positive Polity 8 
 
 Comyn's Elena 34 
 
 Congreves Essays 9 
 
 Politics of Aristotle 10 
 
 Conington's Translation of Virgil's ^neid 36 
 
 Miscellaneous Writings 14 
 
 C<7«/'««jm«'j Two French Dictionaries ... 14 
 Conybeare and Howson's Life and Epistles 
 
 of St. Paul 29 
 
 Cotton's Memoir and Correspondence 7 
 
 Counsel and Comfort from a City Pulpit... 13 
 
 Cox's (G. W.) Aryan Mythology 4 
 
 Crusades 6 
 
 • History of Greece 4 
 
 Tale of the Great Persfan 
 
 War 4 
 
 Tales of Ancient Greece ... 34 
 
 and Jones's Teutonic Tales 34 
 
 Crawley's Thucydides 4 
 
 Creasy on British Constitution 3 
 
 Cresy's Encyclopaedia of Civil Engineering 27 
 
 Critical Essays of a Country Parson 14 
 
 Crookes's Chemical Analysis 24 
 
 Dyeing and Calico-printing 28 
 
 Culley's Handbook of Telegraphy 26 
 
 Cusack's Student's History of Ireland 3 
 
 D'Aubignfs Reformation in the Time of 
 
 Calvin 6 
 
44 
 
 NEW WORKS PUBLISHED BY LONGMANS & CO. 
 
 Eoget's Thesaurus of English Words and 
 
 Phrases 14 
 
 Ronald's Fly-Fisher's Entomology 37 
 
 Rothschild's Israelites 30 
 
 ^«jj(?// on the Christian Religion 6 
 
 ■ English Constitution 2 
 
 ' 's Recollections and Suggestions ... 2 
 
 5d!«^arj'j Justinian's Institutes ^ 10 
 
 ^a«/»r^'j English Kings 2 
 
 Savory's Geometric Turning 26 
 
 Schellen's Spectrum Analysis 18 
 
 Scott' s A\hev\. Durer 24 
 
 Papers on Civil Engineering 28 
 
 Seaside Musing, by A. K. H. B 13 
 
 Seebohms Oxford Reformers of 1498 3 
 
 Protestant Revolution 6 
 
 Sewell's History of the Early Church 5 
 
 Passing Thoughts on Religion 31 
 
 Preparation for Communion 31 
 
 Principles of Education 14 
 
 Readings for Confirmation 31 
 
 Readings for Lent 31 
 
 Examination for Confirmation ... 31 
 
 Stories and Tales 35 
 
 Thoughts for the Age 31 
 
 Thoughts for the Holy Week 31 
 
 Sharp's Post-office Gazetteer 16 
 
 Shelley's Workshop Appliances 20 
 
 5/^<7r/'j Church History 5 
 
 Simpson's Meeting the Sun 32 
 
 Smith's Paul's Voyage and Shipwreck 30 
 
 {Sydney) Essays 12 
 
 Life and Letters 7 
 
 Miscellaneous Works ... 12 
 
 Wit and Wisdom 12 
 
 (Dr. R. A.) Air and Rain 18 
 
 Sneyds Cyllene 34 
 
 Southeys Doctor 13 
 
 — Poetical Works 35 
 
 Stanley's History of British Birds 21 
 
 Stephen's Ecclesiastical Biography 7 
 
 Freethinking and Plainspeaking 9 
 
 Stepping Stones (the Series) 40 
 
 Stirling' s ^QCXQioi HegeX 11 
 
 Sir William Hamilton n 
 
 Stonehenge on the Dog 37 
 
 on the Greyhound 37 
 
 Sunday Afternoons at the Parish Church of 
 
 a University City, by A. K. H. B 13 
 
 Supernatural Religion 31 
 
 7t7y/(?r'j History of India 3 
 
 Manual of Ancient History 6 
 
 Manual of Modern History 6 
 
 [Jeremy) VJor\iS, cdxi^dhy Eden. 31 
 
 Tevt-Books of Science 19 
 
 7 A/r/eya//' J History of Greece 4 
 
 Thomson' s'LscvfZoi'ThovighX 11 
 
 Thorpe's Quantitative Analysis 20 
 
 and Muir's Qualitative Analysis ... 20 
 
 Thudichum: s Q\i&ci\\c.2XV\iy%\o\ogy 23 
 
 Todd ( A. ) on Parliamentary Government ... 2 
 
 and Bowman's Anatomy and 
 
 Physiology of Man 24 
 
 Trench's Realities of Irish Life 12 
 
 Trollope's Barchester Towers 39 
 
 Warden 39 
 
 Tyndall's American Lectures on Light ... 20 
 
 Belfast Address 19 
 
 Diamagnetism 20 
 
 Fragments of Science 19 
 
 Hours of Exercise in the Alps... 33 
 
 Lectures on Electricity 20 
 
 Lectures on Light 20 
 
 Lectures on Sound 20 
 
 Heat a Mode of Motion 20 
 
 Molecular Physics 20 
 
 C/(?^^/-w^^'j System of Logic 11 
 
 Ure's Dictionary of Arts, Manufactures, 
 and Mines 27 
 
 Warlurtoji s Edward the Third 6 
 
 Watson's Geometry 20 
 
 Watts' s Dictionary of Chemistry 24 
 
 Webb's Objects for Common Telescopes ... 18 
 
 Weinhola's Experimental Physics 19 
 
 Wellington's Life, by Gleig 8 
 
 Whately's English Synonymes 14 
 
 Life and Correspondence 6 
 
 Logic 10 
 
 Rhetoric 10 
 
 White and Donkin's Enghsh Dictionary... 15 
 
 and Riddle's Latin Dictionaries ... 15 
 
 Whitworth on Guns and Steel 27 
 
 Wilcockss Sea-Fisherman 36 
 
 Williams's Ax\%\.o\\€s> Ethics 10 
 
 Willis's Principles of Mechanism 26 
 
 Willoughby's (Lady) Diary 34 
 
 Wood's Bible Animals 22 
 
 Homes without Hands 21 
 
 Insects at Home 21 
 
 Insects Abroad 21 
 
 Out of Doors 21 
 
 Strange Dwellings 21 
 
 F(9«^^'j English-Greek Lexicons 16 
 
 Horace 36 
 
 Youatt on \he "Dog 37 
 
 on the Horse 36 
 
 Z^/Z^/j Socrates 5 
 
 Stoics, Epicureans, and Sceptics... 5 
 
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