=CRITIQUES AND ADDRESSES. =

BY

THOMAS HENRY HUXLEY, LL. D. , F. R. S. 

1873. 

PREFACE. 

The "Critiques and Addresses" gathered together in this volume, likethe "Lay Sermons, Addresses, and Reviews, " published three years ago, deal chiefly with educational, scientific, and philosophical subjects;and, in fact, indicate the high-water mark of the various tides ofoccupation by which I have been carried along since the beginning ofthe year 1870. 

In the end of that year, a confidence in my powers of work, which, unfortunately, has not been justified by events, led me to allowmyself to be brought forward as a candidate for a seat on the LondonSchool Board. Thanks to the energy of my supporters I was elected, andtook my share in the work of that body during the critical first yearof its existence. Then my health gave way, and I was obliged to resignmy place among colleagues whose large practical knowledge of thebusiness of primary education, and whose self-sacrificing zeal in thedischarge of the onerous and thankless duties thrown upon them bythe Legislature, made it a pleasure to work with them, even though myposition was usually that of a member of the minority. 

I mention these circumstances in order to account for (I had almostsaid to apologize for) the existence of the two papers which headthe present series, and which are more or less political, both in thelower and in the higher senses of that word. 

The question of the expediency of any form of State Education is, infact, a question of those higher politics which lie above the regionin which Tories, Whigs, and Radicals "delight to bark and bite. " Indiscussing it in my address on "Administrative Nihilism, " I foundmyself, to my profound regret, led to diverge very widely (though evenmore perhaps in seeming than in reality) from the opinions of a man ofgenius to whom I am bound by the twofold tie of the respect due to aprofound philosopher and the affection given to a very old friend. Buthad I no other means of knowing the fact, the kindly geniality of Mr. Herbert Spencer's reply[1] assures me that the tie to which I referwill bear a much heavier strain than I have put, or ever intend toput, upon it, and I rather rejoice that I have been the means ofcalling forth so vigorous a piece of argumentative writing. Nor isthis disinterested joy at an attack upon myself diminished by thecircumstance, that, in all humility, but in all sincerity, I think itmay be repulsed. 

[Footnote 1: "Specialized Administration;" _Fortnightly Review_, December 1871. ]

Mr. Spencer complains that I have first misinterpreted, and thenmiscalled, the doctrine of which he is so able an expositor. It wouldgrieve me very much if I were really open to this charge. But what arethe facts? I define this doctrine as follows:--

 "Those who hold these views support them by two lines of argument. They enforce them deductively by arguing from an assumed axiom, that the State has no right to do anything but protect its subjects from aggression. The State is simply a policeman, and its duty, neither more nor less than to prevent robbery and murder and enforce contracts. It is not to promote good, nor even to do anything to prevent evil, except by the enforcement of penalties upon those who have been guilty of obvious and tangible assaults upon purse or person. And, according to this view, the proper form of government is neither a monarchy, an aristocracy, nor a democracy, but an _astynomocracy_, or police government. On the other hand, these views are supported _à posteriori_ by an induction from observation, which professes to show that whatever is done by a Government beyond these negative limits, is not only sure to be done badly, but to be done much worse than private enterprise would have done the same thing. "

I was filled with surprised regret when I learned from the conclusionof the article on "Specialized Administration, " that this statement isheld by Mr. Spencer to be a, misinterpretation of his views. PerhapsI ought to be still more sorry to be obliged to declare myself, evennow, unable to discover where my misinterpretation lies, or in whatrespect my presentation of Mr. Spencer's views differs from his ownmost recent version of them. As the passage cited above shows. I havecarefully defined the sense in which I use the terms which I employ, and, therefore, I am not greatly concerned to defend the abstractappropriateness of the terms themselves. And when Mr. Spencermaintains the only proper functions of Government to be those whichare comprehensible under the description of "Negatively regulativecontrol, " I may suggest that the difference between such "NegativeAdministration" and "Administrative Nihilism, " in the sense defined byme, is not easily discernible. 

Having, as I hope, relieved myself from the suspicion of havingmisunderstood or misrepresented Mr. Spencer's views, I might, if Icould forget that I am writing a preface, proceed to the discussionof the parallel which he elaborates, with much knowledge and power, between the physiological and the social organisms. But this is notthe place for a controversy involving so many technicalities, andI content myself with one remark, namely, that the whole course ofmodern physiological discovery tends to show, with more and moreclearness, that the vascular system, or apparatus for distributingcommodities in the animal organism, is eminently under the control ofthe cerebro-spinal nervous centres--a fact which, unless I am againmistaken, is contrary to one of Mr. Spencer's fundamental assumptions. In the animal organism, Government does meddle with trade, and evengoes so far as to tamper a good deal with the currency. 

In the same number of the _Fortnightly Review_ as that which containsMr. Spencer's essay, Miss Helen Taylor assails me--though, I am boundto admit, more in sorrow than in anger--for what she terms, my"New Attack on Toleration. " It is I, this time, who may complain ofmisinterpretation, if the greater part of Miss Taylor's article(with which I entirely sympathise) is supposed to be applicable tomy "intolerance. " Let us have full-toleration, by all means, uponall questions in which there is room for doubt, or which cannot bedistinctly proved to affect the welfare of mankind. But when MissTaylor has shown what basis exists for criminal legislation, exceptthe clear right of mankind not to tolerate that which is demonstrablycontrary to the welfare of society, I will admit that suchdemonstration ought only to be believed in by the "curates andold women" to whom she refers. Recent events have not weakened theconviction I expressed in a much-abused speech at the London SchoolBoard, that Ultramontanism is demonstrably the enemy of society; andmust be met with resistance, merely passive if possible, but active ifnecessary, by "the whole power of the State. "

Next in order, it seems proper that I should briefly refer to myfriend Mr. Mivart's onslaught upon my criticism of Mr. Darwin'scritics, himself among the number, which will be found in thisvolume. In "Evolution and its Consequences"[1] I am accused ofmisrepresentation, misquotation, misunderstanding, and numerous othernegative and positive literary and scientific sins; and much subtleingenuity is expended by Mr. Mivart in attempting to extricate himselffrom the position in which my exposition of the real opinions ofFather Suarez has placed him. So much more, in fact, has Mr. Mivart'singenuity impressed me than any other feature of his reply, that Ishall take the liberty of re-stating the main issue between us; and, for the present, leaving that issue alone to the judgment of thepublic. 

[Footnote 1: _Contemporary Review_, January 1872. ]

In his book on the "Genesis of Species" Mr. Mivart, after discussingthe opinions of sundry Catholic writers of authority, among whom heespecially includes St. Augustin, St. Thomas Aquinas, and the JesuitSuarez, proceeds to say: "It is then evident that ancient and mostvenerable theological authorities distinctly assert _derivative_creation, and thus their teachings harmonize with all that modernscience can possibly require. "[1] By the "derivative creation" oforganic forms, Mr. Mivart understands, "that God created them byconferring on the material world the power to evolve them undersuitable conditions. "

[Footnote 1: Bunsen's "Outlines of the Philosophy of UniversalHistory, " vol. I. P. 349. 1854. ]

On the contrary, I proved by evidence, which Mr. Mivart does notventure to impugn, that Suarez, in his "Tractatus de Opere sexDierum, " expressly rejects St. Augustin's and St. Thomas' views; thathe vehemently advocates the literal interpretation of the account ofthe creation given in the Book of Genesis; and that he treats withutter scorn the notion that the Almighty could have used the languageof that Book, unless He meant it to be taken literally. 

Mr. Mivart, therefore, either has read Suarez and has totallymisrepresented him--a hypothesis which, I hope I need hardly say, I donot for a moment entertain: or, he has got his information at secondhand, and has himself been deceived. But in that case, it is surelyan imprudence on his part, to reproach me with having "read Suarez _adhoc_, and evidently without the guidance of anyone familiar withthat author. " No doubt, in the matter of guidance, Mr. Mivart has theadvantage of me. Nevertheless, the guides who supplied him with hisreferences to Suarez' "Metaphysica, " while they left him in ignoranceof the existence of the "Tractatus, " are guides with whose servicesit might be better to dispense; leaders who wilfully shut their eyes, being even more liable to lodge one in a ditch, than blind leaders. 

At the time when the essay on "Methods and Results of Ethnology" waswritten, I had not met with a passage in Professor Max Müller's "LastResults of Turanian Researches"[1] which shows so appositely, thatthe profoundest study of philology leads to conclusions respecting therelation of Ethnology with Philology, similar to those at which I hadarrived in approaching the question from the Anatomist's side, that Icannot refrain from quoting it:

[Footnote 1: LONDON, _April_ 1873. ]

 "Nor should we, in our phonological studies, either expect or desire more than general hints from physical ethnology. The proper and rational connection between the two sciences is that of mutual advice and suggestion, but nothing more. Much of the confusion of terms and indistinctness of principles, both in Ethnology and Phonology, are due to the combined study of these heterogeneous sciences. Ethnological race and phonological race are not commensurate, except in ante-historical times, or perhaps at the very dawn of history. With the migration of tribes, their wars, their colonies, their conquests and alliances, which, if we may judge from their effects, must have been much more violent in the ethnic, than even in the political, period of history, it is impossible to imagine that race and language should continue to run parallel. The physiologist should pursue his own science unconcerned about language. "

It is further desirable to remark that the statements in this Essayrespecting the forms of Native American crania need rectification. Onthis point, I refer the reader who is interested in the subject tomy paper "On the Form of the Cranium among the Patagonians and theFuegians" published in the _Journal of Anatomy and Physiology_ for1868. 

If the problem discussed in my address to the British Associationin 1870 has not yet received its solution, it is not because thechampions of Abiogenesis have been idle, or wanting in confidence. Butevery new assertion on their side has been met by a counter assertion;and though the public may have been led to believe that so much noisemust indicate rapid progress, one way or the other, an impartialcritic will admit, with sorrow, that the question has been "markingtime" rather than marching. In mere sound, these two processes are notso very different. 

CONTENTS. 

I. 

ADMINISTRATIVE NIHILISM. (An Address delivered to the Members ofthe Midland Institute, on the 9th of October, 1871, and subsequentlypublished in the _Fortnightly Review_)

II. 

THE SCHOOL BOARDS: WHAT THEY CAN DO, AND WHAT THEY MAY DO. (The_Contemporary Review_, 1870)

III. 

ON MEDICAL EDUCATION. (An Address to the Students of the Faculty ofMedicine in University College, London, 1870)

IV. 

YEAST. (The _Contemporary Review_, 1871)

V. 

ON THE FORMATION OF COAL. (A Lecture delivered before the Members ofthe Bradford Philosophical Institution, and subsequently published inthe _Contemporary Review_)

VI. 

ON CORAL AND CORAL REEFS. (_Good Words_, 1870)

VII. 

ON THE METHODS AND RESULTS OF ETHNOLOGY. (The _Fortnightly Review_, 1865)

VIII. 

ON SOME FIXED POINTS IN BRITISH ETHNOLOGY. (The _Contemporary Review_, 1871)

IX. 

PALAEONTOLOGY AND THE DOCTRINE OF EVOLUTION. (The Presidential Addressto the Geological Society, 1870)

X. 

MR. DARWIN'S CRITICS. (The _Contemporary Review_, 1871)

XI. 

THE GENEALOGY OF ANIMALS. (A Review of Haeckel's "NatürlicheSchöpfungs-Geschichte. " The _Academy_, 1869)

XII. 

BISHOP BERKELEY ON THE METAPHYSICS OF SENSATION. _(Macmillan'sMagazine_, 1871)

CRITIQUES AND ADDRESSES. 

I. 

ADMINISTRATIVE NIHILISM. 

(AN ADDRESS TO THE MEMBERS OF THE MIDLAND INSTITUTE, OCTOBER 9TH, 1871. )

To me, and, as I trust, to the great majority of those whom I address, the great attempt to educate the people of England which has just beenset afoot, is one of the most satisfactory and hopeful events in ourmodern history. But it is impossible, even if it were desirable, to shut our eyes to the fact, that there is a minority, notinconsiderable in numbers, nor deficient in supporters of weight andauthority, in whose judgment all this legislation is a step in thewrong direction, false in principle, and consequently sure to produceevil in practice. 

The arguments employed by these objectors are of two kinds. The firstis what I will venture to term the caste argument; for, if logicallycarried out, it would end in the separation of the people of thiscountry into castes, as permanent and as sharply defined, if not asnumerous, as those of India. It is maintained that the whole fabricof society will be destroyed if the poor, as well as the rich, areeducated; that anything like sound and good education will only makethem discontented with their station and raise hopes which, in thegreat majority of cases, will be bitterly disappointed. It is said:There must be hewers of wood and drawers of water, scavengers andcoalheavers, day labourers and domestic servants, or the work ofsociety will come to a standstill. But, if you educate and refineeverybody, nobody will be content to assume these functions, and allthe world will want to be gentlemen and ladies. 

One hears this argument most frequently from the representatives ofthe well-to-do middle class; and, coming from them, it strikes me aspeculiarly inconsistent, as the one thing they admire, strive after, and advise their own children to do, is to get on in the world, and, if possible, rise out of the class in which they were born into thatabove them. Society needs grocers and merchants as much as it needscoalheavers; but if a merchant accumulates wealth and works his way toa baronetcy, or if the son of a greengrocer becomes a lord chancellor, or an archbishop, or, as a successful soldier, wins a peerage, all theworld admires them; and looks with pride upon the social system whichrenders such achievements possible. Nobody suggests that there isanything wrong in _their_ being discontented with _their_ station; orthat, in _their_ cases society suffers by men of ability reaching thepositions for which nature has fitted them. 

But there are better replies than those of the _tu quoque_ sort to thecaste argument. In the first place, it is not true that education, as such, unfits men for rough and laborious, or even disgusting, occupations. The life of a sailor is rougher and harder than that ofnine landsmen out of ten, and yet, as every ship's captain knows, nosailor was ever the worse for possessing a trained intelligence. Thelife of a medical practitioner, especially in the country, is harderand more laborious than that of most artisans, and he is constantlyobliged to do things which, in point of pleasantness, cannot be rankedabove scavengering--yet he always ought to be, and he frequently is, a highly educated man. In the second place, though it may be grantedthat the words of the catechism, which require a man to do his duty inthe station to which it has pleased God to call him, give an admirabledefinition of our obligation to ourselves and to society; yet thequestion remains, how is any given person to find out what is theparticular station to which it has pleased God to call him? A new-borninfant does not come into the world labelled scavenger, shopkeeper, bishop, or duke. One mass of red pulp is just like another to alloutward appearance. And it is only by finding out what his facultiesare good for, and seeking, not for the sake of gratifying a paltryvanity, but as the highest duty to himself and to his fellow-men, to put himself into the position in which they can attain their fulldevelopment, that the man discovers his true station. That which is tobe lamented, I fancy, is not that society should do its utmost to helpcapacity to ascend from the lower strata to the higher, but that ithas no machinery by which to facilitate the descent of incapacity fromthe higher strata to the lower. In that noble romance, the "Republic"(which is now, thanks to the Master of Balliol, as intelligible tous all, as if it had been written in our mother tongue), Plato makesSocrates say that he should like to inculcate upon the citizens of hisideal state just one "royal lie. "

 "'Citizens, ' we shall say to them in our tale--'You are brothers, yet God has framed you differently. Some of you have the power of command, and these he has composed of gold, wherefore also they have the greatest honour; others of silver, to be auxiliaries; others again, who are to be husbandmen and craftsmen, he has made of brass and iron; and the species will generally be preserved in the children. But as you are of the same original family, a golden parent will sometimes have a silver son, or a silver parent a golden son. And God proclaims to the rulers, as a first principle, that before all they should watch over their offspring, and see what elements mingle with their nature; for if the son of a golden or silver parent has an admixture of brass and iron, then nature orders a transposition of ranks, and the eye of the ruler must not be pitiful towards his child because he has to descend in the scale and become a husbandman or artisan; just as there may be others sprung from the artisan class, who are raised to honour, and become guardians and auxiliaries. For an oracle says that when a man of brass or iron guards the State, it will then be destroyed. '"[1]

[Footnote 1: "The Dialogues of Plato. " Translated into English, withAnalysis and Introduction, by B. Jowett, M. A. Vol. Ii. P. 243. ]

Time, whose tooth gnaws away everything else, is powerless againsttruth; and the lapse of more than two thousand years has not weakenedthe force of these wise words. Nor is it necessary that, as Platosuggests, society should provide functionaries expressly charged withthe performance of the difficult duty of picking out the men of brassfrom those of silver and gold. Educate, and the latter will certainlyrise to the top; remove all those artificial props by which the brassand iron folk are kept at the top, and, by a law as sure as that ofgravitation, they will gradually sink to the bottom. We have allknown noble lords who would have been coachmen, or gamekeepers, orbilliard-markers, if they had not been kept afloat by our socialcorks; we have all known men among the lowest ranks, of whom everyonehas said, "What might not that man have become, if he had only had alittle education?"

And who that attends, even in the most superficial way, to theconditions upon which the stability of modern society--and especiallyof a society like ours, in which recent legislation has placedsovereign authority in the hands of the masses, whenever they areunited enough to wield their power--can doubt that every man of highnatural ability, who is both ignorant and miserable, is as great adanger to society as a rocket without a stick is to the peoplewho fire it? Misery is a match that never goes out; genius, as anexplosive power, beats gunpowder hollow; and if knowledge, whichshould give that power guidance, is wanting, the chances are not smallthat the rocket will simply run a-muck among friends and foes. Whatgives force to the socialistic movement which is now stirringEuropean society to its depths, but a determination on the part of thenaturally able men among the proletariat, to put an end, somehow orother, to the misery and degradation in which a large proportion oftheir fellows are steeped? The question, whether the means by whichthey purpose to achieve this end are adequate or not, is at thismoment the most important of all political questions--and it is besidemy present purpose to discuss it. All I desire to point out is, thatif the chance of the controversy being decided calmly and rationally, and not by passion and force, looks miserably small to an impartialbystander, the reason is that not one in ten thousand of those whoconstitute the ultimate court of appeal, by which questions of theutmost difficulty, as well as of the most momentous gravity, will haveto be decided, is prepared by education to comprehend the real natureof the suit brought before their tribunal. 

Finally, as to the ladies and gentlemen question, all I can say is, would that every woman-child born into this world were trained to bea lady, and every man-child a gentleman! But then I do not use thosemuch-abused words by way of distinguishing people who wear fineclothes, and live in fine houses, and talk aristocratic slang, fromthose who go about in fustian, and live in back slums, and talk gutterslang. Some inborn plebeian blindness, in fact, prevents me fromunderstanding what advantage the former have over the latter. I havenever even been able to understand why pigeon-shooting at Hurlinghamshould be refined and polite, while a rat-killing match in Whitechapelis low; or why "What a lark" should be coarse, when one hears "Howawfully jolly" drop from the most refined lips twenty times in anevening. 

Thoughtfulness for others, generosity, modesty, and self-respect, arethe qualities which make a real gentleman, or lady, as distinguishedfrom the veneered article which commonly goes by that name. I by nomeans wish to express any sentimental preference for Lazarus againstDives, but, on the face of the matter, one does not see why thepractice of these virtues should be more difficult in one state oflife than another; and any one who has had a wide experience among allsorts and conditions of men, will, I think, agree with me that theyare as common in the lower ranks of life as in the higher. 

Leaving the caste argument aside then, as inconsistent with thepractice of those who employ it, as devoid of any justification intheory, and as utterly mischievous if its logical consequences werecarried out, let us turn to the other class of objectors. To theseopponents, the Education Act is only one of a number of pieces oflegislation to which they object on principle; and they include underlike condemnation the Vaccination Act, the Contagious Diseases Act, and all other sanitary Acts; all attempts on the part of the State toprevent adulteration, or to regulate injurious trades; all legislativeinterference with anything that bears directly or indirectly oncommerce, such as shipping, harbours, railways, roads, cab-fares, andthe carriage of letters; and all attempts to promote the spread ofknowledge by the establishment of teaching bodies, examiningbodies, libraries, or museums, or by the sending out of scientificexpeditions; all endeavours to advance art by the establishment ofschools of design, or picture galleries; or by spending money uponan architectural public building when a brick box would answer thepurpose. According to their views, not a shilling of public money mustbe bestowed upon a public park or pleasure-ground; not sixpence uponthe relief of starvation, or the cure of disease. Those who holdthese views support them by two lines of argument. They enforce themdeductively by arguing from an assumed axiom, that the State has noright to do anything but protect its subjects from aggression. TheState is simply a policeman, and its duty is neither more nor lessthan to prevent robbery and murder and enforce contracts. It is not topromote good, nor even to do anything to prevent evil, except by theenforcement of penalties upon those who have been guilty of obviousand tangible assaults upon purses or persons. And, according tothis view, the proper form of government is neither a monarchy, an aristocracy, nor a democracy, but an _astynomocracy_, orpolice government. On the other hand, these views are supported _àposteriori_, by an induction from observation, which professes to showthat whatever is done by a Government beyond these negative limits, isnot only sure to be done badly, but to be done much worse than privateenterprise would have done the same thing. 

I am by no means clear as to the truth of the latter proposition. Itis generally supported by statements which prove clearly enough thatthe State does a great many things very badly. But this is reallybeside the question. The State lives in a glass house; we see what ittries to do, and all its failures, partial or total, are made the mostof. But private enterprise is sheltered under good opaque bricks andmortar. The public rarely knows what it tries to do, and only hearsof failures when they are gross and patent to all the world. Who isto say how private enterprise would come out if it tried its handat State work? Those who have had most experience of joint-stockcompanies and their management, will probably be least inclined tobelieve in the innate superiority of private enterprise over Statemanagement. If continental bureaucracy and centralization be fraughtwith multitudinous evils, surely English beadleocracy and parochialobstruction are not altogether lovely. If it be said that, as a matterof political experience, it is found to be for the best interests, including the healthy and free development, of a people, that theState should restrict itself to what is absolutely necessary, andshould leave to the voluntary efforts of individuals as much asvoluntary effort can be got to do, nothing can be more just. But, onthe other hand, it seems to me that nothing can be less justifiablethan the dogmatic assertion that State interference, beyond the limitsof home and foreign police, must, under all circumstances, do harm. 

Suppose, however, for the sake of argument, that we accept theproposition that the functions of the State may be properly summed upin the one great negative commandment, --"Thou shalt not allow any manto interfere with the liberty of any other man, "--I am unable to seethat the logical consequence is any such restriction of the power ofGovernment, as its supporters imply. If my next-door neighbourchooses to have his drains in such a state as to create a poisonousatmosphere, which I breathe at the risk of typhus and diphtheria, herestricts my just freedom to live just as much as if he went aboutwith a pistol, threatening my life; if he is to be allowed to lethis children go unvaccinated, he might as well be allowed to leavestrychnine lozenges about in the way of mine; and if he brings them upuntaught and untrained, to earn their living, he is doing his bestto restrict my freedom, by increasing the burden of taxation for thesupport of gaols and workhouses, which I have to pay. 

The higher the state of civilization, the more completely do theactions of one member of the social body influence all the rest, andthe less possible is it for any one man to do a wrong thingwithout interfering, more or less, with the freedom of all hisfellow-citizens. So that, even upon the narrowest view of thefunctions of the State, it must be admitted to have wider powers thanthe advocates of the police theory are disposed to admit. 

It is urged, I am aware, that if the right of the State to step beyondthe assigned limits is admitted at all, there is no stopping; and thatthe principle which justifies the State in enforcing vaccination oreducation, will also justify it in prescribing my religious belief, or my mode of carrying on my trade or profession; in determining thenumber of courses I have for dinner, or the pattern of my waistcoat. 

But surely the answer is obvious that, on similar grounds, the rightof a man to eat when he is hungry might be disputed, because if youonce allow that he may eat at all, there is no stopping him until hegorges himself, and suffers all the ills of a surfeit. In practice, the man leaves off when reason tells him he has had enough; and, ina properly organized State, the Government, being nothing but thecorporate reason of the community, will soon find out when Stateinterference has been carried far enough. And, so far as myacquaintance with those who carry on the business of Government goes, I must say that I find them far less eager to interfere with thepeople, than the people are to be interfered with. And the reason isobvious. The people are keenly sensible of particular evils, and, likea man suffering from pain, desire an immediate remedy. The statesman, on the other hand, is like the physician, who knows that he can stopthe pain at once by an opiate; but who also knows that the opiate maydo more harm than good in the long run. In three cases out of four thewisest thing he can do is to wait, and leave the case to nature. Butin the fourth case, in which the symptoms are unmistakable, and thecause of the disease distinctly known, prompt remedy saves a life. Is the fact that a wise physician will give as little medicine aspossible any argument for his abstaining from giving any at all?

But the argument may be met directly. It may be granted that theState, or corporate authority of the people, might with perfectpropriety order my religion, or my waistcoat, if as good groundscould be assigned for such an order as for the command to educate mychildren. And this leads us to the question which lies at the root ofthe whole discussion--the question, namely, upon what foundationdoes the authority of the State rest, and how are the limits of thatauthority to be determined?

One of the oldest and profoundest of English philosophers, Hobbes ofMalmesbury, writes thus:--

 "The office of the sovereign, be it monarch or an assembly, consisteth in the end for which he was entrusted with the sovereign power, namely, the procuration of _the safety_ of the people: to which he is obliged by the law of nature, and to render an account thereof to God, the author of that law, and to none but Him. But by safety, here, is not meant a bare preservation, but also all other contentments of life, which every man by lawful industry, without danger or hurt to the commonwealth, shall acquire to himself. "

At first sight this may appear to be a statement of the police-theoryof government, pure and simple; but it is not so. For Hobbes goes onto say:--

 "And this is intended should be done, not by care applied to individuals, further than their protection from injuries, when they shall complain; but by a general providence contained in public instruction both of doctrine and example; and in the making and executing of good laws to which individual persons may apply their own cases. "[1]

[Footnote 1: "Leviathan, " Molesworth's ed. P. 322. ]

To a witness of the civil war between Charles I. And the Parliament, it is not wonderful that the dissolution of the bonds of society whichis involved in such strife should appear to be "the greatest evil thatcan happen in this life;" and all who have read the "Leviathan" knowto what length Hobbes's anxiety for the preservation of the authorityof the representative of the sovereign power, whatever its shape, leads him. But the justice of his conception of the duties of thesovereign power does not seem to me to be invalidated by his monstrousdoctrines respecting the sacredness of that power. 

To Hobbes, who lived during the break-up of the sovereign power bypopular force, society appeared to be threatened by everything whichweakened that power: but, to John Locke, who witnessed the evils whichflow from the attempt of the sovereign power to destroy the rightsof the people by fraud and violence, the danger lay in the otherdirection. 

The safety of the representative of the sovereign power itself is toLocke a matter of very small moment, and he contemplates its abolitionwhen it ceases to do its duty, and its replacement by another, as amatter of course. The great champion of the revolution of 1688 coulddo no less. Nor is it otherwise than natural that he should seek tolimit, rather than to enlarge, the powers of the State, though insubstance he entirely agrees with Hobbes's view of its duties:--

 "But though men, " says he, "when they enter into society, give up the equality, liberty, and executive power they had in the state of nature, into the hands of the society, to be so far disposed of by the Legislature as the good of society shall require; yet it being only with an intention in every one the better to preserve himself, his liberty and property (for no rational creature can be supposed to change his condition with an intention to be worse), the power of the society, or legislation, constituted by them can never be supposed to extend further than the common good, but is obliged to secure every one's property by providing against those three defects above mentioned, that made the state of nature so unsafe and uneasy. And so, whoever has the legislative or supreme power of any commonwealth, is bound to govern by established standing laws, promulgated and known to the people, and not by extemporary decrees; by indifferent and upright judges, who are to decide controversies by those laws: and to employ the force of the community at home only in the execution of such laws; or abroad, to prevent or redress foreign injuries, and secure the community from inroads and invasion. And all this to be directed to no other end than the peace, safety, and public good of the people. "[1]

[Footnote 1: Locke's Essay, "Of Civil Government, " § 131. ]

Just as in the case of Hobbes, so in that of Locke, it may at firstsight appear from this passage that the latter philosopher's views ofthe functions of Government incline to the negative, rather than thepositive, side. But a further study of Locke's writings will atonce remove this misconception. In the famous "Letter concerningToleration, " Locke says:--

 "The commonwealth seems to me to be a society of men constituted only for the procuring, preserving, and _advancing_ their own civil interests. 

 "Civil interests I call life, liberty, health, and indolency of body; and the possession of outward things, such as money, lands, houses, furniture, and the like. 

 "It is the duty of the civil magistrate, by the impartial execution of equal laws, to secure unto all the people in general, and to every one of his subjects in particular, the just possession of those things belonging to this life. 

 "... The whole jurisdiction of the magistrate reaches only to these civil concernments.... All civil power, right, and dominion, is bounded and confined to the only care of promoting these things. "

Elsewhere in the same "Letter, " Locke lays down the proposition thatif the magistrate understand washing a child "to be profitable to thecuring or preventing any disease that children are subject unto, andesteem the matter weighty enough to be taken care of by a law, in thatcase he may order it to be done. "

Locke seems to differ most widely from Hobbes by his strong advocacyof a certain measure of toleration in religious matters. But thereason why the civil magistrate ought to leave religion alone is, according to Locke, simply this, that "true and saving religionconsists in the inward persuasion of the mind. " And since "such is thenature of the understanding that it cannot be compelled to the beliefof anything by outward force, " it is absurd to attempt to make menreligious by compulsion. I cannot discover that Locke fathers the petdoctrine of modern Liberalism, that the toleration of error is a goodthing in itself, and to be reckoned among the cardinal virtues; onthe contrary, in this very "Letter on Toleration" he states in theclearest language that "No opinion contrary to human society, or tothose moral rules which are necessary to the preservation of civilsociety, are to be tolerated by the magistrate. " And the practicalcorollary which he draws from this proposition is that there ought tobe no toleration for either Papists or Atheists. 

After Locke's time the negative view of the functions of Governmentgradually grew in strength, until it obtained systematic and ableexpression in Wilhelm von Humboldt's "Ideen, "[1] the essence of whichis the denial that the State has a right to be anything more thanchief policeman. And, of late years, the belief in the efficacy ofdoing nothing, thus formulated, has acquired considerable popularityfor several reasons. In the first place, men's speculative convictionshave become less and less real; their tolerance is large because theirbelief is small; they know that the State had better leave thingsalone unless it has a clear knowledge about them; and, with reason, they suspect that the knowledge of the governing power may stand nohigher than the very low watermark of their own. 

[Footnote 1: An English translation has been published under the titleof "Essay on the Sphere and Duties of Government. "]

In the second place, men have become largely absorbed in the mereaccumulation of wealth; and as this is a matter in which the plainestand strongest form of self-interest is intensely concerned, science(in the shape of Political Economy) has readily demonstrated thatself-interest may be safely left to find the best way of attainingits ends. Rapidity and certainty of intercourse between differentcountries, the enormous development of the powers of machinery, andgeneral peace (however interrupted by brief periods of warfare), havechanged the face of commerce as completely as modern artillery haschanged that of war. The merchant found himself as much burdened byancient protective measures as the soldier by his armour--and negativelegislation has been of as much use to the one as the stripping offof breast-plates, greaves, and buff-coat to the other. But because thesoldier is better without his armour it does not exactly follow thatit is desirable that our defenders should strip themselves starknaked; and it is not more apparent why _laissez-faire_--great andbeneficial as it may be in all that relates to the accumulation ofwealth--should be the one great commandment which the State is toobey in all other matters; and especially in those in which thejustification of _laissez-faire_, namely, the keen insight given bythe strong stimulus of direct personal interest, in matters clearlyunderstood, is entirely absent. 

Thirdly, to the indifference generated by the absence of fixedbeliefs, and to the confidence in the efficacy of _laissez-faire_, apparently justified by experience of the value of that principle whenapplied to the pursuit of wealth, there must be added that nobler andbetter reason for a profound distrust of legislative interference, which animates Von Humboldt and shines forth in the pages of Mr. Mill's famous Essay on Liberty--I mean the just fear lest the endshould be sacrificed to the means; lest freedom and variety should bedrilled and disciplined out of human life in order that the great millof the State should grind smoothly. 

One of the profoundest of living English philosophers, who is at thesame time the most thoroughgoing and consistent of the champions ofastynomocracy, has devoted a very able and ingenious essay[1] to thedrawing out of a comparison between the process by which men haveadvanced from the savage state to the highest civilization, and thatby which an animal passes from the condition of an almost shapelessand structureless germ, to that in which it exhibits a highlycomplicated structure and a corresponding diversity of powers. Mr. Spencer says with great justice--

[Footnote 1: "The Social Organism:" Essays. Second Series. ]

 "That they gradually increase in mass; that they become, little by little, more complex; that, at the same time, their parts grow more mutually dependent; and that they continue to live and grow as wholes, while successive generations of their units appear and disappear, --are broad peculiarities which bodies politic display, in common with all living bodies, and in which they and living bodies differ from everything else. "

In a very striking passage of this essay Mr. Spencer shows with whatsingular closeness a parallel between the development of a nervoussystem, which is the governing power of the body in the series ofanimal organisms, and that of government, in the series of socialorganisms, can be drawn:--

 "Strange as the assertion, will be thought, " says Mr. Spencer, "our Houses of Parliament discharge in the social economy functions that are, in sundry respects, comparable to those discharged by the cerebral masses in a vertebrate animal.... The cerebrum co-ordinates the countless heterogeneous considerations which affect the present and future welfare of the individual as a whole; and the Legislature co-ordinates the countless heterogeneous considerations which affect the immediate and remote welfare of the whole community. We may describe the office of the brain as that of _averaging_ the interests of life, physical, intellectual, moral, social; and a good brain is one in which the desires answering to their respective interests are so balanced, that the conduct they jointly dictate sacrifice none of them. Similarly we may describe the office of Parliament as that of _averaging_ the interests of the various classes in a community; and a good Parliament is one in which the parties answering to these respective interests are so balanced, that their united legislation concedes to each class as much as consists with the claims of the rest. "

All this appears to be very just. But if the resemblances between thebody physiological and the body politic are any indication, not onlyof what the latter is, and how it has become what it is, but of whatit ought to be, and what it is tending to become, I cannot but thinkthat the real force of the analogy is totally opposed to the negativeview of State function. 

Suppose that, in accordance with this view, each muscle were tomaintain that the nervous system had no right to interfere with itscontraction, except to prevent it from hindering the contraction ofanother muscle; or each gland, that it had a right to secrete, so longas its secretion interfered with no other; suppose every separate cellleft free to follow its own "interests, " and _laissez-faire_ lord ofall, what would become of the body physiological?

The fact is that the sovereign power of the body thinks for thephysiological organism, acts for it, and rules the individualcomponents with a rod of iron. Even the blood-corpuscles can't hold apublic meeting without being accused of "congestion"--and the brain, like other despots whom we have known, calls out at once for theuse of sharp steel against them. As in Hobbes's "Leviathan, " therepresentative of the sovereign authority in the living organism, though he derives all his powers from the mass which he rules, isabove the law. The questioning of his authority involves death, orthat partial death which we call paralysis. Hence, if the analogy ofthe body politic with the body physiological counts for anything, itseems to me to be in favour of a much larger amount of governmentalinterference than exists at present, or than I, for one, at all desireto see. But, tempting as the opportunity is, I am not disposed tobuild up any argument in favour of my own case upon this analogy, curious, interesting, and in many respects close, as it is, for ittakes no cognizance of certain profound and essential differencesbetween the physiological and the political bodies. 

Much as the notion of a "social contract" has been ridiculed, itnevertheless seems to be clear enough, that all social organizationwhatever depends upon what is substantially a contract, whetherexpressed or implied, between the members of the society. No societyever was, or ever can be, really held together by force. It may seema paradox to say that a slaveholder does not make his slaves workby force, but by agreement. And yet it is true. There is a contractbetween the two which, if it were written out, would run in theseterms:--"I undertake to feed, clothe, house, and not to kill, flog, or otherwise maltreat you, Quashie, if you perform a certain amount ofwork. " Quashie, seeing no better terms to be had, accepts the bargain, and goes to work accordingly. A highwayman who garottes me, and thenclears out my pockets, robs me by force in the strict sense of thewords; but if he puts a pistol to my head and demands my money ormy life, and I, preferring the latter, hand over my purse, we havevirtually made a contract, and I perform one of the terms of thatcontract. If, nevertheless, the highwayman subsequently shoots me, everybody will see that, in addition to the crimes of murder andtheft, he has been guilty of a breach of contract. 

A despotic Government, therefore, though often a mere combinationof slaveholding and highway robbery, nevertheless implies a contractbetween governor and governed, with voluntary submission on the partof the latter; and _à fortiori_, all other forms of government are inlike case. 

Now a contract between any two men implies a restriction of thefreedom of each in certain particulars. The highwayman gives up hisfreedom to shoot me, on condition of my giving up my freedom to doas I like with my money: I give up my freedom to kill Quashie, oncondition of Quashie's giving up his freedom to be idle. And theessence and foundation of every social organization, whether simpleor complex, is the fact that each member of the society voluntarilyrenounces his freedom in certain directions, in return for theadvantages which he expects from association with the other membersof that society. Nor are constitutions, laws, or manners, in ultimateanalysis, anything but so many expressed or implied contracts betweenthe members of a society to do this, or abstain from that. 

It appears to me that this feature constitutes the differencebetween the social and the physiological organism. Among the higherphysiological organisms, there is none which is developed by theconjunction of a number of primitively independent existences intoa complex whole. The process of social organization appears to becomparable, not so much to the process of organic development, asto the synthesis of the chemist, by which independent elements aregradually built up into complex aggregations--in which each elementretains an independent individuality, though held in subordination tothe whole. The atoms of carbon and hydrogen, oxygen, nitrogen, whichenter into a complex molecule, do not lose the powers originallyinherent in them, when they unite to form that molecule, theproperties of which express those forces of the whole aggregationwhich are not neutralized and balanced by one another. Each atom hasgiven up something, in order that the atomic society, or molecule, maysubsist. And as soon as any one or more of the atoms thus associatedresumes the freedom which it has renounced, and follows some externalattraction, the molecule is broken up, and all the peculiar propertieswhich depended upon its constitution vanish. 

Every society, great or small, resembles such a complex molecule, in which the atoms are represented by men, possessed of all thosemultifarious attractions and repulsions which are manifested in theirdesires and volitions, the unlimited power of satisfying which, wecall freedom. The social molecule exists in virtue of the renunciationof more or less of this freedom by every individual. It is decomposed, when the attraction of desire leads to the resumption of that freedom, the suppression of which is essential to the existence of the socialmolecule. And the great problem of that social chemistry we callpolitics, is to discover what desires of mankind may be gratified, andwhat must be suppressed, if the highly complex compound, society, is to avoid decomposition. That the gratification of some ofmen's desires shall be renounced is essential to order; that thesatisfaction of others shall be permitted is no less essential toprogress; and the business of the sovereign authority--which is, orought-to be, simply a delegation of the people appointed to act forits good--appears to me to be, not only to enforce the renunciation ofthe anti-social desires, but, wherever it may be necessary, to promotethe satisfaction of those which are conducive to progress. 

The great metaphysician, Immanuel Kant, who is at his greatest whenhe discusses questions which are not metaphysical, wrote, nearly acentury ago, a wonderfully instructive essay entitled "A Conception ofUniversal History in relation to Universal Citizenship, "[1] from whichI will borrow a few pregnant sentences:--

[Footnote 1: "Idee zu einer allgemeinen Geschichte in weltbürgerlichenAbsicht, " 1784. This paper has been translated by De Quincey, andattention has been recently drawn to its "signal merits" by the Editorof the _Fortnightly Review_ in his Essay on Condorcet. (_FortnightlyReview_, No. Xxxviii. N. S. Pp. 136, 137. )]

 "The means of which Nature has availed herself, in order to bring about the development of all the capacities of man, is the antagonism of those capacities to social organization, so far as the latter does in the long run necessitate their definite correlation. By antagonism, I here mean the unsocial sociability of mankind--that is, the combination in them of an impulse to enter into society, with a thorough spirit of opposition which constantly threatens to break up this society. The ground of this lies in human nature. Man has an inclination to enter into society, because in that state he feels that he becomes more a man, or, in other words, that his natural faculties develop. But he has also a great tendency to isolate himself, because he is, at the same time, aware of the unsocial peculiarity of desiring to have everything his own way; and thus, being conscious of an inclination to oppose others, he is naturally led to expect opposition from them. 

 "Now it is this opposition which awakens all the dormant powers of men, stimulates them to overcome their inclination to be idle, and, spurred by the love of honour, or power, or wealth, to make themselves a place among their fellows, whom they can neither do with, nor do without. 

 "Thus they make the first steps from brutishness towards culture, of which the social value of man is the measure. Thus all talents become gradually developed, taste is formed, and by continual enlightenment the foundations of a way of thinking are laid, which gradually changes the mere rude capacity of moral perception into determinate practical principles; and thus society, which is originated by a sort of pathological compulsion, becomes metamorphosed into a moral unity. " (_Loc. Cit_. P. 147. )

 "All the culture and art which adorn humanity, the most refined social order, are produced by that unsociability which is compelled by its own existence to discipline itself, and so by enforced art to bring the seeds implanted by nature into full flower. " (_Loc. Cit_. P. 148. )

In these passages, as in others of this remarkable tract, Kantanticipates the application of the "struggle for existence" topolitics, and indicates the manner in which the evolution of societyhas resulted from the constant attempt of individuals to strain itsbonds. If individuality has no play, society does not advance; ifindividuality breaks out of all bounds, society perishes. 

But when men living in society once become aware that their welfaredepends upon, two opposing tendencies of equal importance--the onerestraining, the other encouraging, individual freedom--thequestion "What are the functions of Government?" is translated intoanother--namely, What ought we men, in our corporate capacity, to do, not only in the way of restraining that free individuality which isinconsistent with the existence of society, but in encouraging thatfree individuality which is essential to the evolution of thesocial organization? The formula which truly defines the function ofGovernment must contain the solution of both the problems involved, and not merely of one of them. 

Locke has furnished us with such a formula, in the noblest, and at thesame time briefest, statement of the purpose of Government known tome:--

"THE END OF GOVERNMENT IS THE GOOD OF MANKIND. "[1]

[Footnote 1: "Of Civil Government, " § 229. ]

But the good of mankind is not a something which is absolute andfixed for all men, whatever their capacities or state of civilization. Doubtless it is possible to imagine a true "Civitas Dei, " in whichevery man's moral faculty shall be such as leads him to control allthose desires which run counter to the good of mankind, and to cherishonly those which conduce to the welfare of society; and in which everyman's native intellect shall be sufficiently strong, and his culturesufficiently extensive, to enable him to know what he ought to do andto seek after. And, in that blessed State, police will be as much asuperfluity as every other kind of government. 

But the eye of man has not beheld that State, and is not likely tobehold it for some time to come. What we do see, in fact, is thatStates are made up of a considerable number of the ignorant andfoolish, a small proportion of genuine knaves, and a sprinkling ofcapable and honest men, by whose efforts the former are kept in areasonable state of guidance, and the latter of repression. And, suchbeing the case, I do not see how any limit whatever can be laid downas to the extent to which, under some circumstances, the action ofGovernment may be rightfully carried. 

Was our own Government wrong in suppressing Thuggee in India? If not, would it be wrong in putting down any enthusiast who attempted to setup the worship of Astarte in the Haymarket? Has the State no right toput a stop to gross and open violations of common decency? And ifthe State has, as I believe it has, a perfect right to do all thesethings, are we not bound to admit, with Locke, that it may have aright to interfere with "Popery" and "Atheism, " if it be really truethat the practical consequences of such beliefs con be proved tobe injurious to civil society? The question where to draw the linebetween those things with which the State ought, and those with whichit ought not, to interfere, then, is one which must be left to bedecided separately for each individual case. The difficulty whichmeets the statesman is the same as that which meets us all inindividual life, in which our abstract rights are generally clearenough, though it is frequently extremely hard to say at what point itis wise to cease our attempts to enforce them. 

The notion that the social body should be organized in such a manneras to advance the welfare of its members, is as old as politicalthought; and the schemes of Plato, More, Robert Owen, St. Simon, Comte, and the modern socialists, bear witness that, in every age, menwhose capacity is of no mean order, and whose desire to benefittheir fellows has rarely been excelled, have been strongly, nay, enthusiastically, convinced that Government may attain its end--thegood of the people--by some more effectual process than the verysimple and easy one of putting its hands in its pockets, and lettingthem alone. 

It may be, that all the schemes of social organization which havehitherto been propounded are impracticable follies. But if this be so, the fact proves, not that the idea which underlies them is worthless, but only that the science of politics is in a very rudimentary andimperfect state. Politics, as a science, is not older than astronomy;but though the subject-matter of the latter is vastly less complexthan that of the former, the theory of the moon's motions is not quitesettled yet. 

Perhaps it may help us a little way towards getting clearer notions ofwhat the State may and what it may not do, if, assuming the truth ofLocke's maxim that "the end of Government is the good of mankind, " weconsider a little what the good, of mankind is. 

I take it that the good of mankind means the attainment, by everyman, of all the happiness which he can enjoy without diminishing thehappiness of his fellow-men. [1]

[Footnote 1: "Hie est itaque finis ad quem tendo, talem scilicetNaturam acquirere, et ut multi mecum eam acquirant, conari hoc estde mea felicitate etiam operam dare, ut alii multi idem atque egointelligant, ut eorum intellectus et cupiditas prorsus cum meointellectu et cupiditate convenient: atque hoc fiat, necesse esttantum de Natura intelligere, quantum sufficit ad talem naturamacquirendam; deinde formare talem societatem qualis est desideranda, ut quam plurimi quam facillime et secure eo perveniant. "--B. SPINOZA, _De Intellectus Emendatione Tractatus. _]

If we inquire what kinds of happiness come under this definition, wefind those derived from the sense of security or peace; fromwealth, or commodity, obtained by commerce; from Art--whether itbe architecture, sculpture, painting, music, or literature; fromknowledge, or science; and, finally, from sympathy or friendship. Noman is injured, but the contrary, by peace. No man is any the worseoff because another acquires wealth by trade, or by the exercise ofa profession; on the contrary, he cannot have acquired his wealth, except by benefiting others to the full extent of what they consideredto be its value; and his wealth is no more than fairy gold if he doesnot go on benefiting others in the same way. A thousand men may enjoythe pleasure derived from a picture, a symphony, or a poem, withoutlessening the happiness of the most devoted connoisseur. Theinvestigation of nature is an infinite pasture-ground, where allmay graze, and where the more bite, the longer the grass grows, thesweeter is its flavour, and the more it nourishes. If I love a friend, it is no damage to me, but rather a pleasure, if all the world alsolove him and think of him as highly as I do. 

It appears to be universally agreed, for the reasons alreadymentioned, that it is unnecessary and undesirable for the Stateto attempt to promote the acquisition of wealth by any directinterference with commerce. But there is no such agreement as to thefurther question whether the State may not promote the acquisition ofwealth by indirect means. For example, may the State make a road, orbuild a harbour, when it is quite clear that by so doing it will openup a productive district, and thereby add enormously to the totalwealth of the community? And if so, may the State, acting for thegeneral good, take charge of the means of communication between itsmembers, or of the postal and telegraph services? I have not yet metwith any valid, argument against the propriety of the State doingwhat our Government does in this matter; except the assumption, whichremains to be proved, that Government will manage these things worsethan private enterprise would do. Nor is there any agreement upon thestill more important question whether the State ought, or ought not, to regulate the distribution of wealth. If it ought not, then alllegislation which regulates inheritance--the statute of Mortmain, andthe like--is wrong in principle; and, when a rich man dies, weought to return to the state of nature, and have a scramble forhis property. If, on the other hand, the authority of the State islegitimately employed in regulating these matters, then it is an openquestion, to be decided entirely by evidence as to what tends tothe highest good of the people, whether we keep our present laws, or whether we modify them. At present the State protects men in thepossession and enjoyment of their property, and defines what thatproperty is. The justification for its so doing is that its actionpromotes the good of the people. If it can be clearly proved that theabolition of property would tend still, more to promote the good ofthe people, the State will have the same justification for abolishingproperty that it now has for maintaining it. 

Again, I suppose it is universally agreed that it would be uselessand absurd for the State to attempt to promote friendship and sympathybetween man and man directly. But I see no reason why, if it beotherwise expedient, the State may not do something towards thatend indirectly. For example, I can conceive the existence of anEstablished Church which should be a blessing to the community. AChurch in which, week by week, services should be devoted, not to theiteration of abstract propositions in theology, but to the settingbefore men's minds of an ideal of true, just, and pure living; a placein which those who are weary of the burden of daily cares, shouldfind a moment's rest in the contemplation of the higher life which ispossible for all, though attained by so few; a place in which the manof strife and of business should have time to think how small, afterall, are the rewards he covets compared with peace and charity. Dependupon it, if such a Church existed, no one would seek to disestablishit. 

Whatever the State may not do, however, it is universally agreed thatit may take charge of the maintenance of internal and external peace. Even the strongest advocate of administrative nihilism admits thatGovernment may prevent aggression of one man on another. But thisimplies the maintenance of an army and navy, as much as of a body ofpolice; it implies a diplomatic as well as a detective force; and itimplies, further, that the State, as a corporate whole, shall havedistinct and definite views as to its wants, powers, and obligations. 

For independent States stand in the same relation to one another asmen in a state of nature, or unlimited freedom. Each endeavours toget all it can, until the inconvenience of the state of war suggestseither the formation of those express contracts we call treaties, or mutual consent to those implied contracts which are expressed byinternational law. The moral rights of a State rest upon the samebasis as those of an individual. If any number of States agree toobserve a common set of international laws, they have, in fact, set upa sovereign authority or supra-national government, the end ofwhich, like that of all governments, is the good of mankind; and thepossession of as much freedom by each State, as is consistent withthe attainment of that end. But there is this difference: that thegovernment thus set up over nations is ideal, and has no concreterepresentative of the sovereign power; whence the only way of settlingany dispute finally is to fight it out. Thus the supra-nationalsociety is continually in danger of returning to the state of nature, in which contracts are void; and the possibility of this contingencyjustifies a government in restricting the liberty of its subjects inmany ways that would otherwise be unjustifiable. 

Finally, with respect to the advancement of science and art. I havenever yet had the good fortune to hear any valid reason alleged whythat corporation of individuals we call the State may not do whatvoluntary effort fails in doing, either from want of intelligence orlack of will. And here it cannot be alleged that the action of theState is always hurtful. On the contrary, in every country in Europe, universities, public libraries, picture galleries, museums, andlaboratories, have been established by the State, and have doneinfinite service to the intellectual and moral progress and therefinement of mankind. 

A few days ago I received from one of the most eminent members of theInstitut of France a pamphlet entitled "Pourquoi la France n'apas trouvé d'hommes supérieurs au moment du péril. " The writer, M. Pasteur, has no doubt that the cause of the astounding collapse ofhis countrymen is to be sought in the miserable neglect of the higherbranches of culture, which has been one of the many disgraces of theSecond Empire, if not of its predecessors. 

 "Au point où nous sommes arrivés de ce qu'on appelle la _civilisation moderne_, la culture des sciences dans leur expression la plus élevée est peut-être plus nécessaire encore à l'état moral d'une nation qu'à sa prospérité materielle. 

 "Les grandes découvertes, les méditations de la pensée dans les arts, dans les sciences et dans les lettres, en un mot les travaux désintéresses de l'esprit dans tous les genres, les centres d'enseignement propres à les faire connaître, introduisent dans le corps social tout entier l'esprit philosophique ou scientifique, cet esprit de discernement qui soumet tout à une raison sévère, condamne l'ignorance, dissipe les préjugés et les erreurs. Ils élèvent le niveau intellectuel, le sentiment moral; par eux, l'idée divine elle-même se répand et s'exalte.... Si, au moment du péril suprême, la France n'a pas trouvé des hommes supérieurs pour mettre en oeuvre ses ressources et le courage de ses enfants, il faut l'attribuer, j'en ai la conviction, à ce que la France EST désintéressée, depuis un demi-siècle, des grands travaux de la pensée, particuliérement dans les sciences exactes. "

Individually, I have no love for academies on the continental model, and still less for the system of decorating men of distinction inscience, letters, or art, with orders and titles, or enriching themwith sinecures. What men of science want is only a fair day's wagesfor more than a fair day's work; and most of us, I suspect, would bewell content if, for our days and nights of unremitting toil, we couldsecure the pay which a first-class Treasury clerk earns without anyobviously trying strain upon his faculties. The sole order of nobilitywhich, in my judgment, becomes a philosopher, is that rank whichhe holds in the estimation of his fellow-workers, who are the onlycompetent judges in such matters. Newton and Cuvier lowered themselveswhen the one accepted an idle knighthood, and the other became abaron of the empire. The great men who went to their graves as MichaelFaraday and George Grote seem to me to have understood the dignity ofknowledge better when they declined all such meretricious trappings. 

But it is one thing for the State to appeal to the vanity and ambitionwhich are to be found in philosophical as in other breasts, andanother to offer men who desire to do the hardest of work for the mostmodest of tangible rewards, the means of making themselves useful totheir age and generation. And this is just what the State does when itfounds a public library or museum, or provides the means of scientificresearch by such grants of money as that administered by the RoyalSociety. 

It is one thing, again, for the State to take all the higher educationof the nation into its own hands; it is another to stimulate and toaid, while they are yet young and weak, local efforts to the sameend. The Midland Institute, Owens College in Manchester, the newlyinstituted Science College in Newcastle, are all noble products oflocal energy and munificence. But the good they are doing is notlocal--the commonwealth, to its uttermost limits, shares in thebenefits they confer; and I am at a loss to understand upon whatprinciple of equity the State, which admits the principle of paymenton results, refuses to give a fair equivalent for these benefits; oron what principle of justice the State, which admits the obligationof sharing the duty of primary education with a locality, denies theexistence of that obligation when the higher education is in question. 

To sum up: If the positive advancement of the peace, wealth, and theintellectual and moral development of its members, are objects whichthe Government, as the representative of the corporate authority ofsociety, may justly strive after, in fulfilment of its end--the goodof mankind; then it is clear that the Government may undertake toeducate the people. For education promotes peace by teaching men therealities of life and the obligations which are involved in the veryexistence of society; it promotes intellectual development, not onlyby training the individual intellect, but by sifting out from themasses of ordinary or inferior capacities, those who are competentto increase the general welfare by occupying higher positions; and, lastly, it promotes morality and refinement, by teaching men todiscipline themselves, and by leading them to see that the highest, asit is the only permanent, content is to be attained, not by grovellingin the rank and steaming valleys of sense, but by continual strivingtowards those high peaks, where, resting in eternal calm, reasondiscerns the undefined but bright ideal of the highest Good--"a cloudby day, a pillar of fire by night. "

II. 

THE SCHOOL BOARDS: WHAT THEY CAN DO, AND WHAT THEY MAY DO. 

An electioneering manifesto would be out of place in the pages of thisReview; but any suspicion that may arise in the mind of the readerthat the following pages partake of that nature, will be dispelled, if he reflect that they cannot be published[1] until after the dayon which the ratepayers of the metropolis will have decided whichcandidates for seats upon the Metropolitan School Board they willtake, and which they will leave. 

[Footnote 1: Notwithstanding Mr. Huxley's intentions, the Editor tookupon himself, in what seemed to him to be the public interest, to sendan extract from this article to the newspapers--before the day of theelection of the School Board. --EDITOR of the _Contemporary Review_. ]

As one of those candidates, I may be permitted to say, that I feelmuch in the frame of mind of the Irish bricklayer's labourer, who betanother that he could not carry him to the top of the ladder in hishod. The challenged hodman won his wager, but as the stakes werehanded over, the challenger wistfully remarked, "I'd great hopes offalling at the third round from the top. " And, in view of the workand the worry which awaits the members of the School Boards, I mustconfess to an occasional ungrateful hope that the friends who aretoiling upwards with me in their hod, may, when they reach "the thirdround from the top, " let me fall back into peace and quietness. 

But whether fortune befriend me in this rough method, or not, I shouldlike to submit to those of whom I am a potential, but of whom I maynot be an actual, colleague, and to others who may be interested inthis most important problem--how to get the Education Act to workefficiently--some considerations as to what are the duties of themembers of the School Boards, and what are the limits of their power. 

I suppose no one will be disposed to dispute the proposition, thatthe prime duty of every member of such a Board is to endeavour toadminister the Act honestly; or in accordance, not only with itsletter, but with its spirit. And if so, it would seem that the firststep towards this very desirable end is, to obtain a clear notion ofwhat that letter signifies, and what that spirit implies; or, inother words, what the clauses of the Act are intended to enjoin and toforbid. So that it is really not admissible, except for factious andabusive purposes, to assume that any one who endeavours to get atthis clear meaning is desirous only of raising quibbles and makingdifficulties. 

Reading the Act with this desire to understand it, I find that itsprovisions may be classified, as might naturally be expected, undertwo heads: the one set relating to the subject-matter of education;the other to the establishment, maintenance, and administration of theschools in which that education is to be conducted. 

Now it is a most important circumstance, that all the sections of theAct, except four, belong to the latter division; that is, they referto mere matters of administration. The four sections in question arethe seventh, the fourteenth, the sixteenth, and the ninety-seventh. Ofthese, the seventh, the fourteenth, and the ninety-seventh deal withthe subject-matter of education, while the sixteenth defines thenature of the relations which are to exist between the "EducationDepartment" (an euphemism for the future Minister of Education)and the School Boards. It is the sixteenth clause which is the mostimportant, and, in some respects, the most remarkable of all. It runsthus:--

 "If the School Board do, or permit, any act in contravention of, or fail to comply with, the regulations, according to which a school provided by them is required by this Act to be conducted, the Education Department may declare the School Board to be, and such Board shall accordingly be deemed to be, a Board in default, and the Education Department may proceed accordingly; and every act, or omission, of any member of the School Board, or manager appointed by them, or any person under the control of the Board, shall be deemed to be _permitted_ by the Board, unless the contrary be proved. 

 "If any dispute arises as to whether the School Board have done, or permitted, any act in contravention of, or have failed to comply with, the said regulations, _the matter shall be referred to the Education Department, whose decision thereon shall be final_. "

It will be observed that this clause gives the Minister of Educationabsolute power over the doings of the School Boards. He is notonly the administrator of the Act, but he is its interpreter. Ihad imagined that on the occurrence of a dispute, not as regards aquestion of pure administration, but as to the meaning of a clause ofthe Act, a case might be taken and referred to a court of justice. ButI am led to believe that the Legislature has, in the present instance, deliberately taken this power out of the hands of the judges andlodged it in those of the Minister of Education, who, in accordancewith our method of making Ministers, will necessarily be a politicalpartisan, and who may be a strong theological sectary into thebargain. And I am informed by members of Parliament who watched theprogress of the Act, that the responsibility for this unusual state ofthings rests, not with the Government, but with the Legislature, whichexhibited a singular disposition to accumulate power in the hands ofthe future Minister of Education, and to evade the more troublesomedifficulties of the education question by leaving them to be settledbetween that Minister and the School Boards. 

I express no opinion whether it is, or is not, desirable that suchpowers of controlling all the School Boards in the country should bepossessed by a person who may be, like Mr. Forster, eminently likelyto use these powers justly and wisely, but who also may be quite thereverse. I merely wish to draw attention to the fact that such powersare given to the Minister, whether he be fit or unfit. The extentof these powers becomes apparent when the other sections of the Actreferred to are considered. The fourth clause of the seventh sectionsays:--

 "The school shall be conducted in accordance with the conditions required to be fulfilled by an elementary school in order to obtain an annual Parliamentary grant. "

What these conditions are appears from the following clauses of theninety-seventh section:--

 "The conditions required to be fulfilled by an elementary school in order to obtain an annual Parliamentary grant shall be those contained in the minutes of the Education Department in force for the time being.... Provided that no such minute of the Education Department, not in force at the time of the passing of this Act, shall be deemed to be in force until it has lain for not less than one month on the table of both Houses of Parliament. "

Let us consider how this will work in practice. A school establishedby a School Board may receive support from three sources--from therates, the school fees, and the Parliamentary grant. The latter may beas great as the two former taken together; and as it may be assumed, without much risk of error, that a constant pressure will be exertedby the ratepayers on the members who represent them, to get as muchout of the Government, and as little out of the rates, as possible, the School Boards will have a very strong motive for shaping theeducation they give, as nearly as may be, on the model which theEducation Minister offers for their imitation, and for the copying ofwhich he is prepared to pay. 

The Revised Code did not compel any schoolmaster to leave off teachinganything; but, by the very simple process of refusing to pay for manykinds of teaching, it has practically put an end to them. Mr. Forsteris said to be engaged in revising the Revised Code; a successor ofhis may re-revise it--and there will be no sort of check uponthese revisions and counter-revisions, except the possibility of aParliamentary debate, when the revised, or added, minutes are laidupon the table. What chance is there that any such debate will takeplace on a matter of detail relating to elementary education--asubject with which members of the Legislature, having been, for themost part, sent to our public schools thirty years ago, have not theleast practical acquaintance, and for which they care nothing, unlessit derives a political value from its connection with sectarianpolitics?

I cannot but think, then, that the School Boards will have theappearance, but not the reality, of freedom of action, in regard tothe subject-matter of what is commonly called "secular" education. 

As respects what is commonly called "religious" education, the powerof the Minister of Education is even more despotic. An interest, almost amounting to pathos, attaches itself, in my mind, to thefrantic exertions which are at present going on in almost every schooldivision, to elect certain candidates whose names have never beforebeen heard of in connection with education, and who are eithersectarian partisans, or nothing. In my own particular division, a bodyorganized _ad hoc_ is moving heaven and earth to get the seven seatsfilled by seven gentlemen, four of whom are good Churchmen, and threeno less good Dissenters. But why should this seven times heated fieryfurnace of theological zeal be so desirous to shed its genial warmthover the London School Board? Can it be that these zealous sectariesmean to evade the solemn pledge given in the Act?

 "No religious catechism or religious formulary which is distinctive of any particular denomination shall be taught in the school. "

I confess I should have thought it my duty to reject any suchsuggestion, as dishonouring to a number of worthy persons, if it hadnot been for a leading article and some correspondence which appearedin the _Guardian_ of November 9th, 1870. 

The _Guardian_ is, as everybody knows, one of the best of the"religious" newspapers; and, personally. I have every reason to speakhighly of the fairness, and indeed kindness, with which the editoris good enough to deal with a writer who must, in many ways, be soobjectionable to him as myself. I quote the following passages from aleading article on a letter of mine, therefore, with all respect, andwith a genuine conviction that the course of conduct advocated by thewriter must appear to him in a very different light from that underwhich I see it:--

 "The first of these points is the interpretation which Professor Huxley puts on the 'Cowper-Temple clause. ' It is, in fact, that which we foretold some time ago as likely to be forced upon it by those who think with him. The clause itself was one of those compromises which it is very difficult to define or to maintain logically. On the one side was the simple freedom to School Boards to establish what schools they pleased, which Mr. Forster originally gave, but against which the Nonconformists lifted up their voices, because they conceived it likely to give too much power to the Church. On the other side there was the proposition to make the schools secular--intelligible enough, but in the consideration of public opinion simply impossible--and there was the vague impracticable idea, which Mr. Gladstone thoroughly tore to pieces, of enacting that the teaching of all schoolmasters in the new schools should be strictly 'undenominational. ' The Cowper-Temple clause was, we repeat, proposed simply to tide over the difficulty. It was to satisfy the Nonconformists and the 'unsectarian, ' as distinct from the secular party of the League, by forbidding all distinctive 'catechisms and formularies, ' which might have the effect of openly assigning the schools to this or that religious body. It refused, at the same time, to attempt the impossible task of defining what was undenominational; and its author even contended, if we understood him correctly, that it would in no way, even indirectly, interfere with the substantial teaching of any master in any school. This assertion we always believed to be untenable; we could not see how, in the face of this clause, a distinctly denominational tone could be honestly given to schools nominally general. But beyond this mere suggestion of an attempt at a general tone of comprehensiveness in religious teaching it was not intended to go, and only because such was its limitation was it accepted by the Government and by the House. 

 "But now we are told that it is to be construed as doing precisely that which it refused to do. A 'formulary, ' it seems, is a collection of formulas, and formulas are simply propositions of whatever kind touching religious faith. All such propositions, if they cannot be accepted by all Christian denominations, are to be proscribed; and it is added significantly that the Jews also are a denomination, and so that any teaching distinctively Christian is perhaps to be excluded, lest it should interfere with their freedom and rights. Are we then to fall back on the simple reading of the letter of the Bible? No! this, it is granted, would be an 'unworthy pretence. ' The teacher is to give 'grammatical, geographical, or historical explanations;' but he is to keep clear of 'theology proper, ' because, as Professor Huxley takes great pains to prove, there is no theological teaching which is not opposed by some sect or other, from Roman Catholicism on the one hand to Unitarianism on the other. It was not, perhaps, hard to see that this difficulty would be started; and to those who, like Professor Huxley, look at it theoretically, without much practical experience of schools, it may appear serious or unanswerable. But there is very little in it practically; when it is faced determinately and handled firmly, it will soon shrink into its true dimensions. The class who are least frightened at it are the school-teachers, simply because they know most about it. It is quite clear that the school-managers must be cautioned against allowing their schools to be made places of proselytism: but when this is done, the case is simple enough. Leave the masters under this general understanding to teach freely; if there is ground of complaint, let it be made, but leave the _onus pro-bandi_ on the objectors. For extreme peculiarities of belief or unbelief there is the Conscience Clause; as to the mass of parents, they will be more anxious to have religion taught than afraid of its assuming this or that particular shade. They will trust the school-managers and teachers till they have reason to distrust them, and experience has shown that they may trust them safely enough. Any attempt to throw the burden of making the teaching undenominational upon the managers must be sternly resisted: it is simply evading the intentions of the Act in an elaborate attempt to carry them out. We thank Professor Huxley for the warning. To be forewarned is to be forearmed. "

A good deal of light seems to me to be thrown on the practicalsignificance of the opinions expressed in the foregoing extract by thefollowing interesting letter, which appeared in the same paper:--

 "Sir, --I venture to send to you the substance of a correspondence with the Education Department upon the question of the lawfulness of religious teaching in rate schools under section 14 (2) of the Act. I asked whether the words 'which is distinctive, ' &c. , taken grammatically as limiting the prohibition of any religious formulary, might be construed as allowing (subject, however, to the other provisions of the Act) any religious formulary common to any two denominations anywhere in England to be taught in such schools; and if practically the limit could not be so extended, but would have to be fixed according to the special circumstances of each district, then what degree of general acceptance in a district would exempt such a formulary from the prohibition? The answer to this was as follows:--'It was understood, when clause 14 of the Education Act was discussed in the House of Commons, that, according to a well-known rule of interpreting Acts of Parliament, "denomination" must be held to include "denominations. " When any dispute is referred to the Education Department under the last paragraph of section 16, it will be dealt with according to the circumstances of the case. '

 "Upon my asking further if I might hence infer that the lawfulness of teaching any religious formulary in a rate school would thus depend _exclusively_ on local circumstances, and would accordingly be so decided by the Education Department in case of dispute, I was informed in explanation that 'their lordships'' letter was intended to convey to me that no general rule, beyond that stated in the first paragraph of their letter, could at present be laid down by them; and that their decision in each particular case must depend on the special circumstances accompanying it. 

 "I think it would appear from this that it may yet be in many cases both lawful and expedient to teach religious formularies in rate schools. 

 "H. I. Steyning, _November_ 5, 1870. "

Of course I do not mean to suggest that the editor of the _Guardian_is bound by the opinions of his correspondent; but I cannot helpthinking that I do not misrepresent him, when I say that he alsothinks "that it may yet be, in many cases, both lawful andexpedient to teach religious formularies in rate schools under thesecircumstances. "

It is not uncharitable, therefore, to assume that, the express wordsof the Act of Parliament notwithstanding, all the sectaries who aretoiling so hard for seats in the London School Board have the livelyhope of the gentleman from Steyning, that it may be "both lawful andexpedient to teach religious formularies in rate schools;" andthat they mean to do their utmost to bring this happy consummationabout. [1]

[Footnote 1: A passage in an article on the "Working of the EducationAct, " in the _Saturday Review_ for Nov. 19, 1870, completely justifiesthis anticipation of the line of action which the sectaries mean totake. After commending the Liverpool compromise, the writer goes on tosay:--

"If this plan is fairly adopted in Liverpool, the fourteenth clauseof the Act will in effect be restored to its original form, and themajority of the ratepayers in each district be permitted to decide towhat denomination the school shall belong. "

In a previous paragraph the writer speaks of a possible "mistrust"of one another by the members of the Board, and seems to anticipate"accusations of dishonesty. " If any of the members of the Board adopthis views, I think it highly probable that he may turn out to be atrue prophet. ]

Now the pathetic emotion to which I have referred, as accompanying mycontemplations of the violent struggles of so many excellent persons, is caused by the circumstance that, so far as I can judge, theirlabour is in vain. 

Supposing that the London School Board contains, as it probably willdo, a majority of sectaries; and that they carry over the heads of aminority, a resolution that certain theological formulas, about whichthey all happen to agree, --say, for example, the doctrine of theTrinity, --shall be taught in the schools. Do they fondly imagine thatthe minority will not at once dispute their interpretation of the Act, and appeal to the Education Department to settle that dispute? And ifso, do they suppose that any Minister of Education, who wants to keephis place, will tighten boundaries which the Legislature has leftloose; and will give a "final decision" which shall be offensive toevery Unitarian and to every Jew in the House of Commons, besidescreating a precedent which will afterwards be used to the injury ofevery Nonconformist? The editor of the _Guardian_ tells his friendssternly to resist every attempt to throw the burden of making theteaching undenominational on the managers, and thanks me for thewarning I have given him. I return the thanks, with interest, for_his_ warning, as to the course the party he represents intendsto pursue, and for enabling me thus to draw public attention to aperfectly constitutional and effectual mode of checkmating them. 

And, in truth, it is wonderful to note the surprising entanglementinto which our able editor gets himself in the struggle between hisnative honesty and judgment and the necessities of his party. "Wecould not see, " says he, "in the face of this clause how a distinctdenominational tone could be honestly given to schools nominallygeneral. " There speaks the honest and clearheaded man. "Any attemptto throw the burden of making the teaching undenominational must besternly resisted. " There speaks the advocate holding a brief for hisparty. "Verily, " as Trinculo says, "the monster hath two mouths:" theone, the forward mouth, tells us very justly that the teaching cannot"honestly" be "distinctly denominational;" but the other, thebackward mouth, asserts that it must by no manner of means be"undenominational. " Putting the two utterances together, I can onlyinterpret them to mean that the teaching is to be "indistinctlydenominational. " If the editor of the _Guardian_ had not shown signsof anger at my use of the term "theological fog, " I should have beentempted to suppose it must have been what he had in his mind, underthe name of "indistinct denominationalism. " But this reading beingplainly inadmissible, I can only imagine that he inculcates theteaching of formulas common to a number of denominations. 

But the Education Department has already told the gentleman fromSteyning that any such proceeding will be illegal. "According to awell-known rule of interpreting Acts of Parliament, 'denomination'would be held to include 'denominations. '" In other words, we mustread the Act thus:--

"No religious catechism or religious formulary which is distinctive ofany particular _denominations_ shall be taught. "

Thus we are really very much indebted to the editor of the _Guardian_and his correspondent. The one has shown us that the sectaries meanto try to get as much denominational teaching as they can agree uponamong themselves, forced into the elementary schools; while the otherhas obtained a formal declaration from the Education Department thatany such attempt will contravene the Act of Parliament, and that, therefore, the unsectarian, law-abiding members of the School Boardsmay safely reckon upon, bringing down upon their opponents the heavyhand of the Minister of Education. [1]

[Footnote 1: Since this paragraph was written, Mr. Forster, inspeaking at the Birkbeck Institution, has removed all doubt as towhat his "final decision" will be in the case of such disputes beingreferred to him:--"I have the fullest confidence that in the readingand explaining of the Bible, what the children will be taught will bethe great truths of Christian life and conduct, which all of us desirethey should know, and that no effort will be made to cram into theirpoor little minds, theological dogmas which their tender age preventsthem from understanding. "]

So much for the powers of the School Boards. Limited as they seem tobe, it by no means follows that such Boards, if they are composed ofintelligent and practical men, really more in earnest about educationthan about sectarian squabbles, may not exert a very great amount ofinfluence. And, from many circumstances, this is especially likely tobe the case with the London School Board, which, if it conducts itselfwisely, may become a true educational parliament, as subordinatein authority to the Minister of Education, theoretically, as theLegislature is to the Crown, and yet, like the Legislature, possessedof great practical authority. And I suppose that no Ministerof Education would be other than glad to have the aid of thedeliberations of such a body, or fail to pay careful attention to itsrecommendations. 

What, then, ought to be the nature and scope of the education whicha School Board should endeavour to give to every child under itsinfluence, and for which it should try to obtain the aid of theParliamentary grants? In my judgment it should include at least thefollowing kinds of instruction and of discipline:--

1. Physical training and drill, as part of the regular business of theschool. 

It is impossible to insist too much on the importance of this partof education for the children of the poor of great towns. Allthe conditions of their lives are unfavourable to their physicalwell-being. They are badly lodged, badly housed, badly fed, and livefrom one year's end to another in bad air, without chance of a change. They have no play-grounds; they amuse themselves with marbles andchuck-farthing, instead of cricket or hare-and-hounds; and if it werenot for the wonderful instinct which leads all poor children of tenderyears to run under the feet of cab-horses whenever they can, I knownot how they would learn to use their limbs with agility. 

Now there is no real difficulty about teaching drill and the simplerkinds of gymnastics. It is done admirably well, for example, in theNorth Surrey Union schools; and a year or two ago, when I had anopportunity of inspecting these schools, I was greatly struck withthe effect of such training upon the poor little waifs and strays ofhumanity, mostly picked out of the gutter, who are being made intocleanly, healthy, and useful members of society in that excellentinstitution. 

Whatever doubts people may entertain about the efficacy of naturalselection, there can be none about artificial selection; and thebreeder who should attempt to make, or keep up, a fine stock of pigs, or sheep, under the conditions to which the children of the poorare exposed, would be the laughing-stock even of the bucolic mind. Parliament has already done something in this direction, by decliningto be an accomplice in the asphyxiation of school children. It refusesto make any grant to a school in which the cubical contents of theschool-room are inadequate to allow of proper respiration. I shouldlike to see it make another step in the same direction, and eitherrefuse to give a grant to a school in which physical training is nota part of the programme, or, at any rate, offer to pay upon suchtraining. If something of the kind is not done, the English physique, which has been, and is still, on the whole, a grand one, will becomeas extinct as the dodo, in the great towns. 

And then the moral and intellectual effect of drill, as anintroduction to, and aid of, all other sorts of training, must not beoverlooked. If you want to break in a colt, surely the first thing todo is to catch him and get him quietly to face his trainer; to knowhis voice and bear his hand; to learn that colts have something elseto do with their heels than to kick them up whenever they feel soinclined; and to discover that the dreadful human figure has no desireto devour, or even to beat him, but that, in case of attention andobedience, he may hope for patting and even a sieve of oats. 

But, your "street Arabs, " and other neglected poor children, arerather worse and wilder than colts; for the reason that the horse-colthas only his animal instincts in him, and his mother, the mare, hasbeen always tender over him, and never came home drunk and kicked himin her life; while the man-colt is inspired by that very real devil, perverted manhood, and _his_ mother may have done all that and more. So, on the whole, it may probably be even more expedient to begin yourattempt to get at the higher nature of the child, than at that of thecolt, from the physical side. 

2. Next in order to physical training I put the instruction ofchildren, and especially of girls, in the elements of household workand of domestic economy; in the first place for their own sakes, andin the second for that of their future employers. 

Everyone who knows anything of the life of the English poor is awareof the misery and waste caused by their want of knowledge of domesticeconomy, and by their lack of habits of frugality and method. Isuppose it is no exaggeration to say that a poor Frenchwoman wouldmake the money which the wife of a poor Englishman spends in foodgo twice as far, and at the same time turn out twice as palatable adinner. Why Englishmen, who are so notoriously fond of good living, should be so helplessly incompetent in the art of cookery, is one ofthe great mysteries of nature; but from the varied abominations ofthe railway refreshment-rooms to the monotonous dinners of the poor, English feeding is either wasteful or nasty, or both. 

And as to domestic service, the groans of the housewives of Englandascend to heaven! In five cases out of six, the girl who takes a"place" has to be trained by her mistress in the first rudiments ofdecency and order; and it is a mercy if she does not turn up hernose at anything like the mention of an honest and proper economy. Thousands of young girls are said to starve, or worse, yearly inLondon; and at the same time thousands of mistresses of householdsare ready to pay high wages for a decent housemaid, or cook, or a fairworkwoman; and can by no means get what they want. 

Surely, if the elementary schools are worth anything, they may put anend to a state of things which is demoralizing the poor, while it iswasting the lives of those better off in small worries and annoyances. 

3. But the boys and girls for whose education the School Boards haveto provide, have not merely to discharge domestic duties, but eachof them is a member of a social and political organization ofgreat complexity, and has, in future life, to fit himself into thatorganization, or be crushed by it. To this end it is surely needful, not only that they should be made acquainted with the elementary lawsof conduct, but that their affections should be trained, so as to lovewith all their hearts that conduct which tends to the attainment ofthe highest good for themselves and their fellow-men, and to hate withall their hearts that opposite course of action which is fraught withevil. 

So far as the laws of conduct are determined by the intellect, Iapprehend that they belong to science, and to that part of sciencewhich is called morality. But the engagement of the affections infavour of that particular kind of conduct which we call good, seems tome to be something quite beyond mere science. And I cannot but thinkthat it, together with the awe and reverence, which have no kinshipwith base fear, but arise whenever one tries to pierce below thesurface of things, whether they be material or spiritual, constitutesall that has any unchangeable reality in religion. 

And just as I think it would, be a mistake to confound the science, morality, with the affection, religion; so do I conceive it to be amost lamentable and mischievous error, that the science, theology, is so confounded in the minds of many--indeed, I might say, of themajority of men. 

I do not express any opinion as to whether theology is a true science, or whether it does not come under the apostolic definition of "sciencefalsely so called;" though I may be permitted to express the beliefthat if the Apostle to whom that much misapplied phrase is duecould make the acquaintance of much of modern theology, he would nothesitate a moment in declaring that it is exactly what he meant thewords to denote. 

But it is at any rate conceivable, that the nature of the Deity, andHis relations to the universe, and more especially to mankind, arecapable of being ascertained, either inductively or deductively, orby both processes. And, if they have been ascertained, then a body ofscience has been formed which is very properly called theology. 

Further, there can be no doubt that affection for the Being thusdefined and described by theologic science would be properly termedreligion; but it would not be the whole of religion. The affection forthe ethical ideal defined by moral science would claim equal if notsuperior rights. For suppose theology established the existence of anevil deity--and some theologies, even Christian ones, have come verynear this, --is the religious affection to be transferred from theethical ideal to any such omnipotent demon? I trow not. Bettera thousand times that the human race should perish under histhunderbolts than it should say, "Evil, be thou my good. "

There is nothing new, that I know of, in this statement of therelations of religion with the science of morality on the one hand andthat of theology on the other. But I believe it to be altogethertrue, and very needful, at this time, to be clearly and emphaticallyrecognized as such, by those who have to deal with the educationquestion. 

We are divided into two parties--the advocates of so-called"religious" teaching on the one hand, and those of so-called "secular"teaching on the other. And both parties seem to me to be not onlyhopelessly wrong, but in such a position that if either succeededcompletely, it would discover, before many years were over, thatit had made a great mistake and done serious evil to the cause ofeducation. 

For, leaving aside the more far-seeing minority on each side, what the"religious" party is crying for is mere theology, under the nameof religion; while the "secularists" have unwisely and wrongfullyadmitted the assumption of their opponents, and demand the abolitionof all "religious" teaching, when they only want to be free oftheology--Burning your ship to get rid of the cockroaches!

But my belief is, that no human being, and no society composed ofhuman beings, ever did, or ever will, come to much, unless theirconduct was governed and guided by the love of some ethical ideal. Undoubtedly, your gutter child may be converted by mere intellectualdrill into "the subtlest of all the beasts of the field;" but we knowwhat has become of the original of that description, and there isno need to increase the number of those who imitate him successfullywithout being aided by the rates. And if I were compelled to choosefor one of my own children, between a school in which real religiousinstruction is given, and one without it, I should prefer the former, even though the child might have to take a good deal of theology withit. Nine-tenths of a dose of bark is mere half-rotten wood; but oneswallows it for the sake of the particles of quinine, the beneficialeffect of which may be weakened, but is not destroyed, by the woodendilution, unless in a few cases of exceptionally tender stomachs. 

Hence, when the great mass of the English people declare that theywant to have the children in the elementary schools taught the Bible, and when it is plain from the terms of the Act, the debates in andout of Parliament, and especially the emphatic declarations ofthe Vice-President of the Council, that it was intended that suchBible-reading should be permitted, unless good cause for prohibitingit could be shown, I do not see what reason there is for opposing thatwish. Certainly, I, individually, could with no shadow of consistencyoppose the teaching of the children of other people to do that whichmy own children are taught to do. And, even if the reading the Biblewere not, as I think it is, consonant with political reason andjustice, and with a desire to act in the spirit of the educationmeasure, I am disposed to think it might still be well to read thatbook in the elementary schools. 

I have always been strongly in favour of secular education, in thesense of education without theology; but I must confess I have beenno less seriously perplexed to know by what practical measures thereligious feeling, which is the essential basis of conduct, was tobe kept up, in the present utterly chaotic state of opinion on thesematters, without the use of the Bible. The Pagan moralists lack lifeand colour, and even the noble Stoic, Marcus Antoninus, is too highand refined for an ordinary child. Take the Bible as a whole; make theseverest deductions which fair criticism can dictate for shortcomingsand positive errors; eliminate, as a sensible lay-teacher would do, ifleft to himself, all that it is not desirable for children to occupythemselves with; and there still remains in this old literature a vastresiduum of moral beauty and grandeur. And then consider the greathistorical fact that, for three centuries, this book has been woveninto the life of all that is best and noblest in English history;that it has become the national epic of Britain, and is as familiar tonoble and simple, from John-o'-Groat's House to Land's End, as Danteand Tasso once were to the Italians; that it is written in the noblestand purest English, and abounds in exquisite beauties of mere literaryform; and, finally, that it forbids the veriest hind who never lefthis village to be ignorant of the existence of other countries andother civilizations, and of a great past, stretching back to thefurthest limits of the oldest nations in the world. By the study ofwhat other book could children be so much humanized and made tofeel that each figure in that vast historical procession fills, like themselves, but a momentary space in the interval betweentwo eternities; and earns the blessings or the curses of all time, according to its effort to do good and hate evil, even as they alsoare earning their payment for their work?

On the whole, then, I am in favour of reading the Bible, withsuch grammatical, geographical, and historical explanations by alay-teacher as may be needful, with rigid exclusion of any furthertheological teaching than that contained in the Bible itself. And instating what this is, the teacher would do well not to go beyond theprecise words of the Bible; for if he does, he will, in the firstplace, undertake a task beyond his strength, seeing that all theJewish and Christian sects have been at work upon that subject formore than two thousand years, and have not yet arrived, and are not inthe least likely to arrive, at an agreement; and, in the secondplace, he will certainly begin to teach something distinctivelydenominational, and thereby come into violent collision with the Actof Parliament. 

4. The intellectual training to be given in the elementary schoolsmust of course, in the first place, consist in learning to use themeans of acquiring knowledge, or reading, writing, and arithmetic; andit will be a great matter to teach reading so completely that the actshall have become easy and pleasant. If reading remains "hard, " thataccomplishment will not be much resorted to for instruction, and stillless for amusement--which last is one of its most valuable uses tohard-worked people. 

But along with a due proficiency in the use of the means of learning, a certain amount of knowledge, of intellectual discipline, and ofartistic training should be conveyed in the elementary schools; and inthis direction--for reasons which I am afraid to repeat, havingurged them so often--I can conceive no subject-matter of educationso appropriate and so important as the rudiments of physical science, with drawing, modelling, and singing. Not only would such teachingafford the best possible preparation for the technical schools aboutwhich so much is now said, but the organization for carrying it intoeffect already exists. The Science and Art Department, the operationsof which have already attained considerable magnitude, not only offersto examine and pay the results of such examination in elementaryscience and art, but it provides what is still more important, viz. A means of giving children of high natural ability, who are just asabundant among the poor as among the rich, a helping hand. A good oldproverb tells us that "One should not take a razor to cut a block:"the razor is soon spoiled, and the block is not so well cut as itwould be with a hatchet. But it is worse economy to prevent a possibleWatt from being anything but a stoker, or to give a possible Faradayno chance of doing anything but to bind books. Indeed, the loss insuch cases of mistaken vocation has no measure; it is absolutelyinfinite and irreparable. And among the arguments in favour of theinterference of the State in education, none seems to be strongerthan this--that it is the interest of every one that ability should beneither wasted, nor misapplied, by any one; and, therefore, that everyone's representative, the State, is necessarily fulfilling the wishesof its constituents when it is helping the capacities to reach theirproper places. 

It may be said that the scheme of education here sketched is too largeto be effected in the time during which the children will remain atschool; and, secondly, that even if this objection did not exist, itwould cost too much. 

I attach no importance whatever to the first objection until theexperiment has been fairly tried. Considering how much catechism, lists of the kings of Israel, geography of Palestine, and the like, children are made to swallow now, I cannot believe there will be anydifficulty in inducing them to go through the physical training, whichis more than half play; or the instruction in household work, or inthose duties to one another and to themselves, which have a daily andhourly practical interest. That children take kindly to elementaryscience and art no one can doubt who has tried the experimentproperly. And if Bible-reading is not accompanied by constraint andsolemnity, as if it were a sacramental operation, I do not believethere is anything in which children take more pleasure. At least Iknow that some of the pleasantest recollections of my childhood areconnected with the voluntary study of an ancient Bible which belongedto my grandmother. There were splendid pictures in it, to be sure; butI recollect little or nothing about them save a portrait of thehigh priest in his vestments. What come vividly back on my mind areremembrances of my delight in the histories of Joseph and of David;and of my keen appreciation of the chivalrous kindness of Abraham inhis dealings with Lot. Like a sudden flash there returns back uponme, my utter scorn of the pettifogging meanness of Jacob, and mysympathetic grief over the heartbreaking lamentation of the cheatedEsau, "Hast thou not a blessing for me also, O my father?" And I see, as in a cloud, pictures of the grand phantasmagoria of the Book ofRevelation. 

I enumerate, as they issue, the childish impressions which comecrowding out of the pigeon-holes in my brain, in which they have lainalmost undisturbed for forty years. I prize them as an evidence that achild of five or six years old, left to his own devices, may be deeplyinterested in the Bible, and draw sound moral sustenance from it. AndI rejoice that I was left to deal with the Bible alone; for if I hadhad some theological "explainer" at my side, he might have tried, as such do, to lessen my indignation against Jacob, and thereby havewarped my moral sense for ever; while the great apocalyptic spectacleof the ultimate triumph of right and justice might have been turned tothe base purposes of a pious lampooner of the Papacy. 

And as to the second objection--costliness--the reply is, first, thatthe rate and the Parliamentary grant together ought to be enough, considering that science and art teaching is already providedfor; and, secondly, that if they are not, it may be well for theeducational parliament to consider what has become of those endowmentswhich were originally intended to be devoted, more or less largely, tothe education of the poor. 

When the monasteries were spoiled, some of their endowments wereapplied to the foundation of cathedrals; and in all such cases it wasordered that a certain portion of the endowment should be applied tothe purposes of education. How much is so applied? Is that which maybe so applied given to help the poor, who cannot pay for education, ordoes it virtually subsidize the comparatively rich, who can? Howare Christ's Hospital and Alleyn's foundation securing their rightpurposes, or how far are they perverted into contrivances foraffording relief to the classes who can afford to pay for education?How--But this paper is already too long, and, if I begin, I may findit hard to stop asking questions of this kind, which after all areworthy only of the lowest of Radicals. 

III. 

ON MEDICAL EDUCATION. 

(AN ADDRESS TO THE STUDENTS OF THE FACULTY OF MEDICINE IN UNIVERSITYCOLLEGE, LONDON, MAY 18, 1870, ON THE OCCASION OF THE DISTRIBUTION OFPRIZES FOR THE SESSION. )

It has given me sincere pleasure to be here to-day, at the desire ofyour highly respected President and the Council of the College. Inlooking back upon my own past, I am sorry to say that I have foundthat it is a quarter of a century since I took part in those hopes andin those fears by which you have all recently been agitated, and whichnow are at an end. But, although so long a time has elapsed sinceI was moved by the same feelings, I beg leave to assure you that mysympathy with both victors and vanquished remains fresh--so fresh, indeed, that I could almost try to persuade myself that, after all, itcannot be so very long ago. My business during the last hour, however, has been to show that sympathy with one side only, and I assure youI have done my best to play my part heartily, and to rejoice in thesuccess of those who have succeeded. Still, I should like to remindyou at the end of it all, that success on an occasion of this kind, valuable and important as it is, is in reality only putting the footupon one rung of the ladder which leads upwards; and that the rung ofa ladder was never meant to rest upon, but only to hold a man's footlong enough to enable him to put the other somewhat higher. I trustthat you will all regard these successes as simply reminders that yournext business is, having enjoyed the success of the day, no longer tolook at that success, but to look forward to the next difficultythat is to be conquered. And now, having had so much to say to thesuccessful candidates, you must forgive me if I add that a sort ofundercurrent of sympathy has been going on in my mind all the time forthose who have not been successful, for those valiant knights who havebeen overthrown in your tourney, and have not made their appearance inpublic. I trust that, in accordance with old custom, they, wounded andbleeding, have been carried off to their tents, to be carefully tendedby the fairest of maidens; and in these days, when the chances arethat every one of such maidens will be a qualified practitioner, I have no doubt that all the splinters will have been carefullyextracted, and that they are now physically healed. But there mayremain some little fragment of moral or intellectual discouragement, and therefore I will take the liberty to remark that your chairmanto-day, if he occupied his proper place, would be among them. Yourchairman, in virtue of his position, and for the brief hour that heoccupies that position, is a person of importance; and it may be someconsolation to those who have failed if I say, that the quarter of acentury which I have been speaking of, takes me back to the timewhen I was up at the University of London, a candidate for honours inanatomy and physiology, and when I was exceedingly well beaten by myexcellent friend Dr. Ransom, of Nottingham. There is a person herewho recollects that circumstance very well. I refer to your veneratedteacher and mine, Dr. Sharpey. He was at that time one of theexaminers in anatomy and physiology, and you may be quite sure that, as he was one of the examiners, there remained not the smallest doubtin my mind of the propriety of his judgment, and I accepted my defeatwith the most comfortable assurance that I had thoroughly well earnedit. But, gentlemen, the competitor having been a worthy one, andthe examination, a fair one, I cannot say that I found in thatcircumstance anything very discouraging. I said to myself, "Nevermind; what's the next thing to be done?" And I found that policy of"never minding" and going on to the next thing to be done, to be themost important of all policies in the conduct of practical life. Itdoes not matter how many tumbles you have in this life, so long as youdo not get dirty when you tumble; it is only the people who have tostop to be washed and made clean, who must necessarily lose the race. And I can assure you that there is the greatest practical benefitin making a few failures early in life. You learn that which is ofinestimable importance--that there are a great many people in theworld who are just as clever as you are. You learn to put your trust, by and by, in an economy and frugality of the exercise of your powers, both moral and intellectual; and you very soon find out, if you havenot found it out before, that patience and tenacity of purpose areworth more than twice their weight of cleverness. In fact, if I wereto go on discoursing on this subject, I should become almost eloquentin praise of non-success; but, lest so doing should seem, in any way, to wither well-earned laurels, I will turn from that topic, and askyou to accompany me in some considerations touching another subjectwhich has a very profound interest for me, and which I think ought tohave an equally profound interest for you. 

I presume that the great majority of those whom I address propose todevote themselves to the profession of medicine; and I do not doubt, from the evidences of ability which have been given to-day, thatI have before me a number of men who will rise to eminence in thatprofession, and who will exert a great and deserved influence uponits future. That in which I am interested, and about which I wish tospeak, is the subject of medical education, and I venture to speakabout it for the purpose, if I can, of influencing you, who may havethe power of influencing the medical education of the future. You mayask, by what authority do I venture, being a person not concerned inthe practice of medicine, to meddle with that subject? I can only tellyou it is a fact, of which a number of you I dare say are aware byexperience (and I trust the experience has no painful associations), that I have been for a considerable number of years (twelve orthirteen years to the best of my recollection) one of the examiners inthe University of London. You are further aware that the men whocome up to the University of London are the picked men of the medicalschools of London, and therefore such observations as I may haveto make upon the state of knowledge of these gentlemen, if they bejustified, in regard to any faults I may have to find, cannot be heldto indicate defects in the capacity, or in the power of application ofthose gentlemen, but must be laid, more or less, to the account of theprevalent system of medical education. I will tell you what has struckme--but in speaking in this frank way, as one always does about thedefects of one's friends, I must beg you to disabuse your minds ofthe notion that I am alluding to any particular school, or to anyparticular college, or to any particular person; and to believe thatif I am silent when I should be glad to speak with high praise, it isbecause that praise would come too close to this locality. What hasstruck me, then, in this long experience of the men best instructed inphysiology from the medical schools of London, is (with the many andbrilliant exceptions to which I have referred), taking it as a whole, and broadly, the singular unreality of their knowledge of physiology. Now, I use that word "unreality" advisedly: I do not say "scanty;" onthe contrary, there is plenty of it--a great deal too much of it--butit is the quality, the nature of the knowledge, which I quarrel with. I know I used to have--I don't know whether I have now, but I had onceupon a time--a bad reputation among students for setting up a veryhigh standard of acquirement, and I dare say you may think that thestandard of this old examiner, who happily is now very nearly anextinct examiner, has been pitched too high. Nothing of the kind, Iassure you. The defects I have noticed, and the faults I have to find, arise entirely from the circumstance that my standard is pitched toolow. This is no paradox, gentlemen, but quite simply the fact. The knowledge I have looked for was a real, precise, thorough, andpractical knowledge of fundamentals; whereas that which the best ofthe candidates, in a large proportion of cases, have had to give mewas a large, extensive, and inaccurate knowledge of superstructure;and that is what I mean by saying that my demands went too low, and not too high. What I have had to complain of is, that a largeproportion of the gentlemen who come up for physiology to theUniversity of London do not know it as they know their anatomy, andhave not been taught it as they have been taught their anatomy. Now, Ishould not wonder at all if I heard a great many "No, noes" here; butI am not talking about University College; as I have told you before, I am talking about the average education of medical schools. What Ihave found, and found so much reason to lament, is, that while anatomyhas been taught as a science ought to be taught, as a matter ofautopsy, and observation, and strict discipline; in a very largenumber of cases, physiology has been taught as if it were a merematter of books and of hearsay. I declare to you, gentlemen, thatI have often expected to be told, when I have been asked a questionabout the circulation of the blood, that Professor Breitkopf isof opinion that it circulates, but that the whole thing is an openquestion. I assure you that I am hardly exaggerating the state of mindon matters of fundamental importance which I have found over and overagain to obtain, among gentlemen coming up to that picked examinationof the University of London. Now, I do not think that is a desirablestate of things. I cannot understand why physiology should not betaught--in fact, you have here abundant evidence that it can betaught--with the same definiteness and the same precision as anatomyis taught. And you may depend upon this, that the only physiologywhich is to be of any good whatever in medical practice, or in itsapplication to the study of medicine, is that physiology which a manknows of his own knowledge; just as the only anatomy which would beof any good to the surgeon is the anatomy which he knows of his ownknowledge. Another peculiarity I have found in the physiology whichhas been current, and that is, that in the minds of a great manygentlemen it has been supplanted by histology. They have learnt agreat deal of histology, and they have fancied that histology andphysiology are the same things. I have asked for some knowledge of thephysics and the mechanics and the chemistry of the human body, and Ihave been met by talk about cells. I declare to you I believe it willtake me two years, at least, of absolute rest from the business ofan examiner to hear the word "cell, " "germinal matter, " or "carmine, "without a sort of inward shudder. 

Well, now, gentlemen, I am sure my colleagues in this examination willbear me out in saying that I have not been exaggerating the evils anddefects which are current--have been current--in a large quantityof the physiological teaching, the results of which come beforeexaminers. And it becomes a very interesting question to know how allthis comes about, and in what way it can be remedied. How it comesabout will be perfectly obvious to any one who has considered thegrowth of medicine. I suppose that medicine and surgery first beganby some savage, more intelligent than the rest, discovering that acertain herb was good for a certain pain, and that a certain pull, somehow or other, set a dislocated joint right. I suppose all thingshad their humble beginnings, and medicine and surgery were in the samecondition. People who wear watches know nothing about watchmaking. Awatch goes wrong and it stops; you see the owner giving it a shake, or, if he is very bold, he opens the case, and gives the balance-wheela turn. Gentlemen, that is empirical practice, and you know what arethe results upon the watch. I should think you can divine what are theresults of analogous operations upon the human body. And because menof sense very soon found that such were the effects of meddling withvery complicated machinery they did not understand, I suppose thefirst thing, as being the easiest, was to study the nature of theworks of the human watch, and the next thing was to study the way theparts worked together, and the way the watch worked. Thus, by degrees, we have had growing up our body of anatomists, or knowers of theconstruction of the human watch, and our physiologists, who know howthe machine works. And just as any sensible man, who has a valuablewatch, does not meddle with it himself, but goes to some one who hasstudied watchmaking, and understands what the effect of doing thisor that may be; so, I suppose, the man who, having charge of thatvaluable machine, his own body, wants to have it kept in good order, comes to a professor of the medical art for the purpose of having itset right, believing that, by deduction from the facts of structureand from the facts of function, the physician will divine what may bethe matter with his bodily watch at that particular time, and what maybe the best means of setting it right. If that may be taken as ajust representation of the relation of the theoretical branches ofmedicine--what we may call the institutes of medicine, to use an oldterm--to the practical branches, I think it will be obvious to youthat they are of prime and fundamental importance. Whatever tends toaffect the teaching of them injuriously must tend to destroy andto disorganize the whole fabric of the medical art. I think everysensible man has seen this long ago; but the difficulties in the wayof attaining good teaching in the different branches of the theory, orinstitutes, of medicine are very serious. It is a comparativelyeasy matter--pray mark that I use the word "comparatively"--it is acomparatively easy matter to learn anatomy and to teach it; it is avery difficult matter to learn physiology and to teach it. It is avery difficult matter to know and to teach those branches of physicsand those branches of chemistry which bear directly upon physiology;and hence it is that, as a matter of fact, the teaching of physiology, and the teaching of the physics and the chemistry which bear upon it, must necessarily be in a state of relative imperfection; and there isnothing to be grumbled at in the fact that this relative imperfectionexists. But is the relative imperfection which exists only such asis necessary, or is it made worse by our practical arrangements? Ibelieve--and if I did not so believe I should not have troubled youwith these observations--I believe it is made infinitely worse byour practical arrangements, or rather, I ought to say, our veryunpractical arrangements. Some very wise man long ago affirmed thatevery question, in the long run, was a question of finance; and thereis a good deal to be said for that view. Most assuredly the questionof medical teaching is, in a very large and broad sense, a question offinance. What I mean is this: that in London the arrangements of themedical schools, and the number of them, are such as to render italmost impossible that men who confine themselves to the teachingof the theoretical branches of the profession should be able to maketheir bread by that operation; and, you know, if a man cannot make hisbread, he cannot teach--at least his teaching comes to a speedy end. That is a matter of physiology. Anatomy is fairly well taught, becauseit lies in the direction of practice, and a man is all the bettersurgeon for being a good anatomist. It does not absolutely interferewith the pursuits of a practical surgeon if he should hold a Chairof Anatomy--though I do not for one moment say that he would not be abetter teacher if he did not devote himself to practice. (Applause. )Yes, I know exactly what that cheer means, but I am keeping ascarefully as possible from any sort of allusion to Professor Ellis. But the fact is, that even human anatomy has now grown to be so largea matter, that it takes the whole devotion of a man's life to put thegreat mass of knowledge upon that subject into such a shape that itcan be teachable to the mind of the ordinary student. What the studentwants in a professor is a man who shall stand between him and theinfinite diversity and variety of human knowledge, and who shallgather all that together, and extract from it that which is capableof being assimilated by the mind. That function is a vast and animportant one, and unless, in such subjects as anatomy, a man iswholly free from other cares, it is almost impossible that he canperform it thoroughly and well. But if it be hardly possible for a manto pursue anatomy without actually breaking with his profession, howis it possible for him to pursue physiology?

I get every year those very elaborate reports of Henle andMeissner--volumes of, I suppose, 400 pages altogether--and theyconsist merely of abstracts of the memoirs and works which have beenwritten on Anatomy and Physiology--only abstracts of them! How isa man to keep up his acquaintance with all that is doing in thephysiological world--in a world advancing with enormous strides everyday and every hour--if he has to be distracted with the cares ofpractice? You know very well it must be impracticable to do so. Ourmen of ability join our medical schools with an eye to the future. They take the Chairs of Anatomy or of Physiology; and by and by theyleave those Chairs for the more profitable pursuits into which theyhave drifted by professional success, and so they become clothed, and physiology is bare. The result is, that in those schools in whichphysiology is thus left to the benevolence, so to speak, of thosewho have no time to look to it, the effect of such teaching comesout obviously, and is made manifest in what I spoke of just now--theunreality, the bookishness of the knowledge of the taught. And if thisis the case in physiology, still more must it be the case in thosebranches of physics which are the foundation of physiology; althoughit may be less the case in chemistry, because for an able chemist acertain honourable and independent career lies in the direction ofhis work, and he is able, like the anatomist, to look upon what hemay teach to the student as not absolutely taking him away from hisbread-winning pursuits. 

But it is of no use to grumble about this state of things unlessone is prepared to indicate some sort of practical remedy. And Ibelieve--and I venture to make the statement because I am whollyindependent of all sorts of medical schools, and may, therefore, saywhat I believe without being supposed to be affected by any personalinterest--but I say I believe that the remedy for this state ofthings, for that imperfection of our theoretical knowledge which keepsdown the ability of England at the present time in medical matters, is a mere affair of mechanical arrangement; that so long as you havea dozen medical schools scattered about in different parts of themetropolis, and dividing the students among them, so long, in all thesmaller schools at any rate, it is impossible that any other state ofthings than that which I have been depicting should obtain. Professorsmust live; to live they must occupy themselves with practice, andif they occupy themselves with practice, the pursuit of the abstractbranches of science must go to the wall. All this is a plain andobvious matter of common-sense reasoning. I believe you will neveralter this state of things until, either by consent or by _forcemajeure_--and I should be very sorry to see the latter applied--butuntil there is some new arrangement, and until all the theoreticalbranches of the profession, the institutes of medicine, are taught inLondon in not more than one or two, or at the outside three, centralinstitutions, no good will be effected. If that large body of men, themedical students of London, were obliged in the first place to get aknowledge of the theoretical branches of their profession in two orthree central schools, there would be abundant means for maintainingable professors--not, indeed, for enriching them, as they would beable to enrich themselves by practice--but for enabling them to makethat choice which such men are so willing to make; namely, the choicebetween wealth and a modest competency, when that modest competencyis to be combined with a scientific career, and the means of advancingknowledge. I do not believe that all the talking about, and tinkeringof, medical education will do the slightest good until the factis clearly recognized, that men must be thoroughly grounded in thetheoretical branches of their profession, and that to this end theteaching of those theoretical branches must be confined to two orthree centres. 

Now let me add one other word, and that is, that if I were a despot, Iwould cut down these branches to a very considerable extent. The nextthing to be done beyond that which I mentioned just now, is to goback to primary education. The great step towards a thorough medicaleducation is to insist upon the teaching of the elements of thephysical sciences in all schools, so that medical students shall notgo up to the medical colleges utterly ignorant of that with which theyhave to deal; to insist on the elements of chemistry, the elements ofbotany, and the elements of physics being taught in our ordinaryand common schools, so that there shall be some preparation forthe discipline of medical colleges. And, if this reform were onceeffected, you might confine the "Institutes of Medicine" to physicsas applied to physiology--to chemistry as applied to physiology--tophysiology itself, and to anatomy. Afterwards, the student, thoroughlygrounded in these matters, might go to any hospital he pleased forthe purpose of studying the practical branches of his profession. Thepractical teaching might be made as local as you like; and youmight use to advantage the opportunities afforded by all theselocal institutions for acquiring a knowledge of the practice of theprofession. But you may say: "This is abolishing a great deal; you aregetting rid of botany and zoology to begin with. " I have not a doubtthat they ought to be got rid of, as branches of special medicaleducation; they ought to be put back to an earlier stage, and madebranches of general education. Let me say, by way of self-denyingordinance, for which you will, I am sure, give me credit, that Ibelieve that comparative anatomy ought to be absolutely abolished. I say so, not without a certain fear of the Vice-Chancellor of theUniversity of London who sits upon my left. But I do not think thecharter gives him very much power over me; moreover, I shall soon cometo an end of my examinership, and therefore I am not afraid, but shallgo on to say what I was going to say, and that is, that in my beliefit is a downright cruelty--I have no other word for it--to requirefrom gentlemen who are engaged in medical studies, the pretence--forit is nothing else, and can be nothing else, than a pretence--of aknowledge of comparative anatomy as part of their medical curriculum. Make it part of their Arts teaching if you like, make it part of theirgeneral education if you like, make it part of their qualification forthe scientific degree by all means--that is its proper place; but torequire that gentlemen whose whole faculties should be bent uponthe acquirement of a real knowledge of human physiology shouldworry themselves with getting up hearsay about the alternation ofgenerations in the Salpae is really monstrous. I cannot characterizeit in any other way. And having sacrificed my own pursuit, I am sure Imay sacrifice other people's; and I make this remark with all themore willingness because I discovered, on reading the name-of yourProfessors just now, that the Professor of Materia Medica is notpresent. I must confess, if I had my way I should abolish MateriaMedica[1] altogether. I recollect, when I was first under examinationat the University of London, Dr. Pereira was the examiner, and youknow that "Pereira's Materia Medica" was a book _de omnibus rebus_. Irecollect my struggles with that book late at night and early in themorning (I worked very hard in those days), and I do believe that Igot that book into my head somehow or other, but then I will undertaketo say that I forgot it all a week afterwards. Not one trace of aknowledge of drugs has remained in my memory from that time to this;and really, as a matter of common sense, I cannot understand thearguments for obliging a medical man to know all about drugs andwhere they come from. Why not make him belong to the Iron and SteelInstitute, and learn something about cutlery, because he uses knives?

[Footnote 1: It will, I hope, be understood that I do not includeTherapeutics under this head. ]

But do not suppose that, after all these deductions, there would notbe ample room for your activity. Let us count up what we have left. Isuppose all the time for medical education that can be hoped for is, at the outside, about four years. Well, what have you to master inthose four years upon my supposition? Physics applied to physiology;chemistry applied to physiology; physiology; anatomy; surgery;medicine (including therapeutics); obstetrics; hygiene; and medicaljurisprudence--nine subjects for four years! And when you considerwhat those subjects are, and that the acquisition of anything beyondthe rudiments of any one of them may tax the energies of a lifetime, I think that even those energies which you young gentlemen havebeen displaying for the last hour or two might be taxed to keep youthoroughly up to what is wanted for your medical career. 

I entertain a very strong conviction that any one who adds to medicaleducation one iota or tittle beyond what is absolutely necessary, isguilty of a very grave offence. Gentlemen, it will depend upon theknowledge that you happen to possess, --upon your means of applying itwithin your own field of action, --whether the bills of mortality ofyour district are increased or diminished; and that, gentlemen, is avery serious consideration indeed. And, under those circumstances, thesubjects with which you have to deal being so difficult, their extentso enormous, and the time at your disposal so limited, I could notfeel my conscience easy if I did not, on such an occasion as this, raise a protest against employing your energies upon the acquisitionof any knowledge which may not be absolutely needed in your futurecareer. 

IV. 

YEAST. 

IT has been known, from time immemorial, that the sweet liquids whichmay be obtained by expressing the juices of the fruits and stemsof various plants, or by steeping malted barley in hot water, orby mixing honey with water--are liable to undergo a series of verysingular changes, if freely exposed to the air and left to themselves, in warm weather. However clear and pellucid the liquid may have beenwhen first prepared, however carefully it may have been freed, bystraining and filtration, from even the finest visible impurities, itwill not remain clear. After a time it will become cloudy and turbid;little bubbles will be seen rising to the surface, and their abundancewill increase until the liquid hisses as if it were simmering onthe fire. By degrees, some of the solid particles which produce theturbidity of the liquid collect at its surface into a scum, whichis blown up by the emerging air-bubbles into a thick, foamy froth. Another moiety sinks to the bottom, and accumulates as a muddysediment, or "lees. "

When this action has continued, with more or less violence, fora certain time, it gradually moderates. The evolution of bubblesslackens, and finally comes to an end; scum and lees alike settle atthe bottom, and the fluid is once more clear and transparent. Butit has acquired properties of which no trace existed in the originalliquid. Instead of being a mere sweet fluid, mainly composed of sugarand water, the sugar has more or less completely disappeared, and ithas acquired that peculiar smell and taste which we call "spirituous. "Instead of being devoid of any obvious effect upon the animal economy, it has become possessed of a very wonderful influence on the nervoussystem; so that in small doses it exhilarates, while in larger itstupefies, and may even destroy life. 

Moreover, if the original fluid is put into a still, and heated for awhile, the first and last product of its distillation is simple water;while, when the altered fluid is subjected to the same process, thematter which is first condensed in the receiver is found to be aclear, volatile substance, which is lighter than water, has a pungenttaste and smell, possesses the intoxicating powers of the fluid inan eminent degree, and takes fire the moment it is brought in contactwith a flame. The alchemists called this volatile liquid, whichthey obtained from wine, "spirits of wine, " just as they calledhydrochloric acid "spirits of salt, " and as we, to this day, callrefined turpentine "spirits of turpentine. " As the "spiritus, " orbreath, of a man was thought to be the most refined and subtle partof him, the intelligent essence of man was also conceived as a sortof breath, or spirit; and, by analogy, the most refined essence ofanything was called its "spirit. " And thus it has come about that weuse the same word for the soul of man and for a glass of gin. 

At the present day, however, we even more commonly use another namefor this peculiar liquid--namely, "alcohol, " and its origin is notless singular. The Dutch physician, Van Helmont, lived in the latterpart of the sixteenth and the beginning of the seventeenth century--inthe transition period between alchemy and chemistry--and was rathermore alchemist than chemist. Appended to his "Opera Omnia, " publishedin 1707, there is a very needful "Clavis ad obscuriorum sensumreferandum, " in which the following passage occurs:--

 "ALCOHOL. --Chymicis est liquor aut pulvis summè subtilisatus, vocabulo Orientalibus quoque, cum primis Habessinis, familiari, quibus _cohol_ speciatim pulverem impalpabilem ex antimonio pro oculis tin-gendis denotat ... Hodie autem, ob analogiam, quivis pulvis teuerior, ut pulvis oculorum cancri summe subtilisatus _alcohol_ audit, hand aliter ac spiritus rectificatissimi _alcolisati_ dicuntur. "

Similarly, Robert Boyle speaks of a fine powder as "alcohol;" and, so late as the middle of the last century, the English lexicographer, Nathan Bailey, defines "alcohol" as "the pure substance of anythingseparated from the more gross, a very fine and impalpable powder, or avery pure, well-rectified spirit. " But, by the time of the publicationof Lavoisier's "Traité Élémentaire de Chimie, " in 1789, the term"alcohol, " "alkohol, " or "alkool" (for it is spelt in all three ways), which Van Helmont had applied primarily to a fine powder, andonly secondarily to spirits of wine, had lost its primary meaningaltogether; and, from the end of the last century until now, it has, I believe, been used exclusively as the denotation of spirits of wine, and bodies chemically allied to that substance. 

The process which gives rise to alcohol in a saccharine fluid is knownto us as "fermentation;" a term based upon the apparent boiling up or"effervescence" of the fermenting liquid, and of Latin origin. 

Our Teutonic cousins call the same process "gähren, " "gäsen, ""göschen, " and "gischen;" but, oddly enough, we do not seem to haveretained their verb or their substantive denoting the action itself, though we do use names identical with, or plainly derived from, theirsfor the scum and lees. These are called, in Low German, "gäscht"and "gischt;" in Anglo-Saxon, "gest, " "gist, " and "yst, " whence our"yeast. " Again, in Low German and in Anglo-Saxon, there is anothername for yeast, having the form "barm, " or "beorm;" and, in theMidland Counties, "barm" is the name by which yeast is still bestknown. In High German, there is a third name for yeast, "hefe, " whichis not represented in English, so far as I know. 

All these words are said by philologers to be derived from rootsexpressive of the intestine motion of a fermenting substance. Thus"hefe" is derived from "heben, " to raise; "barm" from "beren" or"bären, " to bear up; "yeast, " "yst, " and "gist, " have all to do withseething and foam, with "yeasty waves, " and "gusty" breezes. 

The same reference to the swelling up of the fermenting substance isseen in the Gallo-Latin terms "levure" and "leaven. "

It is highly creditable to the ingenuity of our ancestors that thepeculiar property of fermented liquids, in virtue of which they "makeglad the heart of man, " seems to have been known in the remotestperiods of which we have any record. All savages take to alcoholicfluids as if they were to the manner born. Our Vedic forefathersintoxicated themselves with the juice of the "soma;" Noah, by a notunnatural reaction against a superfluity of water, appears to havetaken the earliest practicable opportunity of qualifying that whichhe was obliged to drink; and the ghosts of the ancient Egyptians weresolaced by pictures of banquets in which the winecup passes round, graven on the walls of their tombs. A knowledge of the process offermentation, therefore, was in all probability possessed by theprehistoric populations of the globe; and it must have become a matterof great interest even to primaeval wine-bibbers to study the methodsby which fermented liquids could be surely manufactured. No doubt, therefore, it was soon discovered that the most certain, as well asthe most expeditious, way of making a sweet juice ferment was to addto it a little of the scum, or lees, of another fermenting juice. And it can hardly be questioned that this singular excitation offermentation in one fluid, by a sort of infection, or inoculation, of a little ferment taken from some other fluid, together with thestrange swelling, foaming, and hissing of the fermented substance, must have always attracted attention from the more thoughtful. Nevertheless, the commencement of the scientific analysis of thephenomena dates from a period not earlier than the first half of theseventeenth century. 

At this time, Van Helmont made a first step, by pointing out that thepeculiar hissing and bubbling of a fermented liquid is due, not to theevolution of common air (which he, as the inventor of the term "gas, "calls "gas ventosum"), but to that of a peculiar kind of air suchas is occasionally met with in caves, mines, and wells, and which hecalls "gas sylvestre. "

But a century elapsed before the nature of this "gas sylvestre, " or, as it was afterwards called, "fixed air, " was clearly determined, andit was found to be identical with that deadly "choke-damp" by whichthe lives of those who descend into old wells, or mines, or brewers'vats, are sometimes suddenly ended; and with the poisonous aëriformfluid which is produced by the combustion of charcoal, and now goes bythe name of carbonic acid gas. 

During the same time it gradually became clear that the presence ofsugar was essential to the production of alcohol and the evolution ofcarbonic acid gas, which are the two great and conspicuous products offermentation. And finally, in 1787, the Italian chemist, Fabroni, madethe capital discovery that the yeast ferment, the presence of whichis necessary to fermentation, is what he termed a "vegeto-animal"substance--or is a body which gives off ammoniacal salts when it isburned, and is, in other ways, similar to the gluten of plants and thealbumen and casein of animals. 

These discoveries prepared the way for the illustrious Frenchman, Lavoisier, who first approached the problem of fermentation with acomplete conception of the nature of the work to be done. The wordsin which he expresses this conception, in the treatise on elementarychemistry to which reference has already been made, mark the year 1789as the commencement of a revolution of not less moment in the world ofscience than that which simultaneously burst over the political world, and soon engulfed Lavoisier himself in one of its mad eddies. 

"We may lay it down as an incontestable axiom that, in all theoperations of art and nature, nothing is created; an equal quantityof matter exists both before and after the experiment: the quality andquantity of the elements remain precisely the same, and nothing takesplace beyond changes and modifications in the combinations of theseelements. Upon this principle, the whole art of performing chemicalexperiments depends; we must always suppose an exact equality betweenthe elements of the body examined and those of the products of itsanalysis. 

"Hence, since from must of grapes we procure alcohol and carbonicacid, I have an undoubted right to suppose that must consists ofcarbonic acid and alcohol. From these premisses we have two modesof ascertaining what passes during vinous fermentation: eitherby determining the nature of, and the elements which compose, thefermentable substances; or by accurately examining the productsresulting from fermentation; and it is evident that the knowledgeof either of these must lead to accurate conclusions concerning thenature and composition of the other. From these considerations itbecame necessary accurately to determine the constituent elements ofthe fermentable substances; and for this purpose I did not make useof the compound juices of fruits, the rigorous analysis of whichis perhaps impossible, but made choice of sugar, which is easilyanalysed, and the nature of which I have already explained. Thissubstance is a true vegetable oxyd, with two bases, composed ofhydrogen and carbon, brought to the state of an oxyd by means of acertain proportion of oxygen; and these three elements are combinedin such a way that a very slight force is sufficient to destroy theequilibrium of their connection. "

After giving the details of his analysis of sugar and of the productsof fermentation, Lavoisier continues:--

"The effect of the vinous fermentation upon sugar is thus reduced tothe mere separation of its elements into two portions; one part isoxygenated at the expense of the other, so as to form carbonic acid;while the other part, being disoxygenated in favour of the latter, isconverted into the combustible substance called alkohol; therefore, if it were possible to re-unite alkohol and carbonic acid together, weought to form sugar. "[1]

[Footnote 1: "Elements of Chemistry. " By M. Lavoisier. Translated byRobert Kerr. Second Edition, 1793 (pp. 186--196). ]

Thus Lavoisier thought he had demonstrated that the carbonic acid andthe alcohol which are produced by the process of fermentation, areequal in weight to the sugar which disappears; but the application ofthe more refined methods of modern chemistry to the investigation ofthe products of fermentation by Pasteur, in 1860, proved that this isnot exactly true, and that there is a deficit of from 5 to 7 per cent. Of the sugar which is not covered by the alcohol and carbonic acidevolved. The greater part of this deficit is accounted for by thediscovery of two substances, glycerine and succinic acid, of theexistence of which Lavoisier was unaware, in the fermented liquid. But about 1-1/2 per cent. Still remains to be made good. According toPasteur, it has been appropriated by the yeast, but the fact that suchappropriation takes place cannot be said to be actually proved. 

However this may be, there can be no doubt that the constituentelements of fully 98 per cent. Of the sugar which has vanished duringfermentation have simply undergone rearrangement; like the soldiersof a brigade, who at the word of command divide themselves into theindependent regiments to which they belong. The brigade is sugar, theregiments are carbonic acid, succinic acid, alcohol, and glycerine. 

From the time of Fabroni, onwards, it has been admitted that the agentby which this surprising rearrangement of the particles of the sugaris effected is the yeast. But the first thoroughly conclusive evidenceof the necessity of yeast for the fermentation of sugar was furnishedby Appert, whose method of preserving perishable articles of foodexcited so much attention in France at the beginning of this century. Gay-Lussac, in his "Mémoire sur la Fermentation, "[1] alludes toAppert's method of preserving beer-wort unfermented for an indefinitetime, by simply boiling the wort and closing the vessel in which theboiling fluid is contained, in such a way as thoroughly to excludeair; and he shows that, if a little yeast be introduced into suchwort, after it has cooled, the wort at once begins to ferment, eventhough every precaution be taken to exclude air. And this statementhas since received full confirmation from Pasteur. 

[Footnote 1: "Annales de Chimie, " 1810. ]

On the other hand, Schwann, Schroeder and Dusch, and Pasteur, haveamply proved that air may be allowed to have free access to beer-wort, without exciting fermentation, if only efficient precautions are takento prevent the entry of particles of yeast along with the air. 

Thus, the truth that the fermentation of a simple solution of sugar inwater depends upon the presence of yeast, rests upon an unassailablefoundation; and the inquiry into the exact nature of the substancewhich possesses such a wonderful chemical influence becomes profoundlyinteresting. 

The first step towards the solution of this problem was made twocenturies ago by the patient and painstaking Dutch naturalist, Leeuwenhoek, who in the year 1680 wrote thus:--

 "Saepissimo examinavi fermentum cerevisiae, semperque hoc ex globulis per materiam pellucidam fluitantibus, quam cerevisiam esse censui, constare observavi: vidi etiam evidentissime, unumquemque hujus fermenti globulum denuo ex sex distinctis globullis constare, accurate eidem quantitate et formae, cui globulis sanguinis nostri, respondentibus. 

 "Verum talis mini de horum origine et formatione conceptus formabam; globulis nempe ex quibus farina Tritici, Hordei, Avenae, Fagotritici, se constat aquae calore dissolvi et aquae commisceri; hac, vero aqua, quam cerevisiam vocare licet, refrigescente, multos ex minimis particulis in cerevisia coadunari, et hoc pacto efficere particulam sive globulum, quae sexta pars est globuli faecis, et iterum sex ex hisce globulis conjungi. "[1]

[Footnote 1: Leeuwenhoek, "Arcana Naturae Detecta. " Ed. Nov. , 1721. ]

Thus Leeuwenhoek discovered that yeast consists of globules floatingin a fluid; but he thought that they were merely the starchy particlesof the grain from which the wort was made, re-arranged. He discoveredthe fact that yeast had a definite structure, but not the meaning ofthe fact. A century and a half elapsed, and the investigation ofyeast was recommenced almost simultaneously by Cagniard de la Tour inFrance, and by Schwann and Kützing in Germany. The French observerwas the first to publish his results; and the subject received at hishands and at those of his colleague, the botanist Turpin, full andsatisfactory investigation. 

The main conclusions at which they arrived are these. The globular, or oval, corpuscles which float so thickly in the yeast as to make itmuddy, though the largest are not more than one two-thousandth ofan inch in diameter, and the smallest may measure less than oneseven-thousandth of an inch, are living organisms. They multiply withgreat rapidity, by giving off minute buds, which soon attain the sizeof their parent, and then either become detached or remain united, forming the compound globules of which Leeuwenhoek speaks, though theconstancy of their arrangement in sixes existed only in the worthyDutchman's imagination. 

It was very soon made out that these yeast organisms, to which Turpingave the name of _Torula cerevisiae_, were more nearly allied to thelower Fungi than to anything else. Indeed Turpin, and subsequentlyBerkeley and Hoffmann, believed that they had traced the developmentof the _Torula_ into the well-known and very common mould--the_Penicillium glaucum_. Other observers have not succeeded in verifyingthese statements; and my own observations lead me to believe, thatwhile the connection between _Torula_ and the moulds is a very closeone, it is of a different nature from that which has been supposed. Ihave never been able to trace the development of _Torula_ into a truemould; but it is quite easy to prove that species of true mould, such as _Penicillium_, when sown in an appropriate nidus, such asa solution of tartrate of ammonia and yeast-ash, in water, with orwithout sugar, give rise to _Torulae_, similar in all respects to _T. Cerevisiae_, except that they are, on the average, smaller. Moreover, Bail has observed the development of a _Torula_ larger than _T. Cerevisiae_, from a _Mucor_, a mould allied to _Penicillium_. 

It follows, therefore, that the _Torulae_, or organisms of yeast, are veritable plants; and conclusive experiments have proved that thepower which causes the rearrangement of the molecules of the sugar isintimately connected with the life and growth of the plant. In fact, whatever arrests the vital activity of the plant also prevents it fromexciting fermentation. 

Such being the facts with regard to the nature of yeast, and thechanges which it effects in sugar, how are they to be accounted for?Before modern chemistry had come into existence, Stahl, stumbling, with the stride of genius, upon the conception which lies at thebottom of all modern views of the process, put forward the notion thatthe ferment, being in a state of internal motion, communicatedthat motion to the sugar, and thus caused its resolution into newsubstances. And Lavoisier, as we have seen, adopts substantially thesame view, (But Fabroni, full of the then novel conception of acidsand bases and double decompositions, propounded the hypothesis thatsugar is an oxide with two bases, and the ferment a carbonate with twobases; that the carbon of the ferment unites with the oxygen of thesugar, and gives rise to carbonic acid; while the sugar, uniting withthe nitrogen of the ferment, produces a new substance analogous toopium. This is decomposed by distillation, and gives rise to alcohol. )Next, in 1803, Thénard propounded a hypothesis which partakes somewhatof the nature of both Stahl's and Fabroni's views. "I do not believewith Lavoisier, " he says, "that all the carbonic acid formed proceedsfrom the sugar. How, in that case, could we conceive the action of theferment on it? I think that the first portions of the acid are dueto a combination of the carbon of the ferment with the oxygen of thesugar, and that it is by carrying off a portion of oxygen fromthe last that the ferment causes the fermentation to commence--theequilibrium between the principles of the sugar being disturbed, theycombine afresh to form carbonic acid and alcohol. "

The three views here before us may be familiarly exemplified bysupposing the sugar to be a card-house. According to Stahl, theferment is somebody who knocks the table, and shakes the card-housedown; according to Fabroni, the ferment takes out some cards, but putsothers in their places; according to Thénard, the ferment simply takesa card out of the bottom story, the result of which is that all theothers fall. 

As chemistry advanced, facts came to light which put a new face uponStahl's hypothesis, and gave it a safer foundation than it previouslypossessed. The general nature of these phenomena may be thusstated:--A body, A, without giving to, or taking from, anotherbody, B, any material particles, causes B to decompose into othersubstances, C, D, E, the sum of the weights of which is equal to theweight of B, which decomposes. 

Thus, bitter almonds contain two substances, amygdalin and synaptase, which can be extracted, in a separate state, from the bitter almonds. The amygdalin thus obtained, if dissolved in water, undergoes nochange; but if a little synaptase be added to the solution, theamygdalin splits up into bitter almond oil, prussic acid, and a kindof sugar. 

A short time after Cagniard de la Tour discovered the yeast plant, Liebig, struck with the similarity between this and other suchprocesses and the fermentation of sugar, put forward the hypothesisthat yeast contains a substance which acts upon sugar, as synaptaseacts upon amygdalin. And as the synaptase is certainly neitherorganized nor alive, but a mere chemical substance, Liebig treatedCagniard de la Tour's discovery with no small contempt, and, fromthat time to the present, has steadily repudiated the notion that thedecomposition of the sugar is, in any sense, the result of the vitalactivity of the _Torula_. But, though the notion that the _Torula_ isa creature which eats sugar and excretes carbonic acid and alcohol, which is not unjustly ridiculed in the most surprising paper thatever made its appearance in a grave scientific journal[1], may beuntenable, the fact that the _Torulae_ are alive, and that yeast doesnot excite fermentation unless it contains living _Torulae_, standsfast. Moreover, of late years, the essential participation of livingorganisms in fermentation other than the alcoholic, has been clearlymade out by Pasteur and other chemists. 

[Footnote 1: "Das enträthselte Geheimniss der geistigen Gährung(Vorläufige briefliche Mittheilung)" is the title of an anonymouscontribution, to Wöhler and Liebig's "Annalen der Pharmacie" for1839, in which a somewhat Rabelaisian imaginary description of theorganization of the "yeast animals" and of the manner in which theirfunctions are performed, is given with a circumstantiality worthyof the author of Gulliver's Travels. As a specimen of the writer'shumour, his account of what happens when fermentation comes to an endmay suffice. "Sobald nämlich die Thiere keinen Zucker mehr vorfinden, so fressen sie sich gegenseitig selbst auf, was durch eine eigeneManipulation geschicht; alles wird verdaut bis auf die Eier, welcheunverändert durch den Darmkanal hineingehen; man hat zuletzt wiedergährungsfähige Hefe, nämlich den Saamen der Thiere, der übrigbleibt. "]

However, it may be asked, is there any necessary opposition betweenthe so-called "vital" and the strictly physico-chemical views offermentation? It is quite possible that the living _Torula_ may excitefermentation in sugar, because it constantly produces, as an essentialpart of its vital manifestations, some substance which acts upon thesugar, just as the synaptase acts upon the amygdalin. Or it maybe, that, without the formation of any such special substance, the physical condition of the living tissue of the yeast plant issufficient to effect that small disturbance of the equilibrium of theparticles of the sugar, which Lavoisier thought sufficient to effectits decomposition. 

Platinum in a very fine state of division--known as platinum black, or_noir de platine_--has the very singular property of causing alcoholto change into acetic acid with great rapidity. The vinegar plant, which is closely allied to the yeast plant, has a similar effect upondilute alcohol, causing it to absorb the oxygen of the air, and becomeconverted into vinegar; and Liebig's eminent opponent, Pasteur, whohas done so much for the theory and the practice of vinegar-making, himself suggests that in this case--

 "La cause du phénomène physique qui accompagne la vie de la plante réside dans un état physique propre, analogue à celui du noir de platine. Mais il est essentiel de remarquer que cet état physique de la plante est étroitement lié avec la vie de cette plante. "[1]

[Footnote 1: "Etudes sur les Mycodermes, " Comptes-Rendus, liv. , 1862. ]

Now, if the vinegar plant gives rise to the oxidation of alcohol, on account of its merely physical constitution, it is at any ratepossible that the physical constitution of the yeast plant may exert adecomposing influence on sugar. 

But, without presuming to discuss a question which leads us into thevery arcana of chemistry, the present state of speculation upon the_modus operandi_ of the yeast plant in producing fermentation isrepresented, on the one hand, by the Stahlian doctrine, supported byLiebig, according to which the atoms of the sugar are shaken into newcombinations, either directly by the _Torulae_, or indirectly, by somesubstance formed by them; and, on the other hand, by the Thénardiandoctrine, supported by Pasteur, according to which the yeast plantassimilates part of the sugar, and, in so doing, disturbs the rest, and determines its resolution into the products of fermentation. Perhaps the two views are not so much opposed as they seem at firstsight to be. 

But the interest which attaches to the influence of the yeast plantsupon the medium in which they live and grow does not arise solelyfrom its bearing upon the theory of fermentation. So long ago as 1838, Turpin compared the _Torulae_ to the ultimate elements of the tissuesof animals and plants--"Les organes élémentaires de leurs tissus, comparables aux petits végétaux des levures ordinaires, sont aussi lesdécompositeurs des substances qui les environnent. "

Almost at the same time, and, probably, equally guided by his study ofyeast, Schwann was engaged in those remarkable investigations intothe form and development of the ultimate structural elements of thetissues of animals, which led him to recognize their fundamentalidentity with the ultimate structural elements of vegetable organisms. 

The yeast plant is a mere sac, or "cell, " containing a semi-fluidmatter, and Schwann's microscopic analysis resolved all livingorganisms, in the long run, into an aggregation of such sacs or cells, variously modified; and tended to show, that all, whatever theirultimate complication, begin their existence in the condition of suchsimple cells. 

In his famous "Mikroskopische Untersuchungen, " Schwann speaks of_Torula_ as a "cell;" and, in a remarkable note to the passage inwhich he refers to the yeast plant, Schwann says:--

 "I have been unable to avoid mentioning fermentation, because it is the most fully and exactly known operation of cells, and represents, in the simplest fashion, the process which is repeated by every cell of the living body. "

In other words, Schwann conceives that every cell of the living bodyexerts an influence on the matter which surrounds and permeates it, analogous to that which a _Torula_ exerts on the saccharine solutionby which it is bathed. A wonderfully suggestive thought, opening upviews of the nature of the chemical processes of the living body, which have hardly yet received all the development of which they arecapable. 

Kant defined the special peculiarity of the living body to be that theparts exist for the sake of the whole and the whole for the sake ofthe parts. But when Turpin and Schwann resolved the living body intoan aggregation of quasi-independent cells, each, like a _Torula_, leading its own life and having its own laws of growth anddevelopment, the aggregation being dominated and kept working towardsa definite end only by a certain harmony among these units, or by thesuperaddition of a controlling apparatus, such as a nervous system, this conception ceased to be tenable. The cell lives for its own sake, as well as for the sake of the whole organism; and the cells, whichfloat in the blood, live at its expense, and profoundly modify it, arealmost as much independent organisms as the _Torulae_ which float inbeer-wort. 

Schwann burdened his enunciation of the "cell theory" with two falsesuppositions; the one, that the structures he called "nucleus" and"cell-wall" are essential to a cell; the other, that cells are usuallyformed independently of other cells; but, in 1839, it was a vast andclear gain to arrive at the conception, that the vital functions ofall the higher animals and plants are the resultant of the forcesinherent in the innumerable minute cells of which they are composed, and that each of them is, itself, an equivalent of one of the lowestand simplest of independent living beings--the _Torula. _

From purely morphological investigations, Turpin and Schwann, as wehave seen, arrived at the notion of the fundamental unity of structureof living beings. And, before long, the researches of chemistsgradually led up to the conception of the fundamental unity of theircomposition. 

So far back as 1803, Thénard pointed out, in most distinct terms, theimportant fact that yeast contains a nitrogenous "animal" substance;and that such a substance is contained in all ferments. Before him, Fabroni and Fourcroy speak of the "vegeto-animal" matter of yeast. In 1844 Mulder endeavoured to demonstrate that a peculiar substance, which he called "protein, " was essentially characteristic of livingmatter. In 1846, Payen writes:--

 "Enfin, une loi sans exception me semble apparaître dans les faits nombreux que j'ai observés et conduire à envisager sous un nouveau jour la vie végétale; si je ne m'abuse, tout ce que dans les tissus végétaux la vue directe où amplifiée nous permet de discerner sous la forme de cellules et de vaisseaux, ne représente autre chose que les enveloppes protectrices, les réservoirs et les conduits, à l'aide desquels les corps animés qui les secrètent et les façonnent, se logent, puisent et charriant leurs aliments, déposent et isolent les matières excrétées. "

And again:--

 "A fin de complêter aujourd'hui l'énoncé du fait général, je rappellerai que les corps, doué des fonctions accomplies dans les tissus des plantes, sont formés des éléments qui constituent, en proportion peu variable, les organismes animaux; qu'ainsi l'on est conduit à reconnaître une immense unité de composition élémentaire dans tous les corps vivants de la nature. "[1]

[Footnote 1: "Mém. Sur les Développements des Végétaux, " &c. --"Mém. Présentées. " ix. 1846. ]

In the year (1846) in which these remarkable passages were published, the eminent German botanist, Von Mohl, invented the word "protoplasm, "as a name for one portion of those nitrogenous contents of the cellsof living plants, the close chemical resemblance of which to theessential constituents of living animals is so strongly indicated byPayen. And through the twenty-five years that have passed, since thematter of life was first called protoplasm, a host of investigators, among whom Cohn, Max Schulze, and Kühne must be named as leaders, haveaccumulated evidence, morphological, physiological, and chemical, infavour of that "immense unité de composition élémentaire dans tous lescorps vivants de la nature, " into which Payen had, so early, a clearinsight. 

As far back as 1850, Cohn wrote, apparently without any knowledge ofwhat Payen had said before him:--

 "The protoplasm of the botanist, and the contractile substance and sarcode of the zoologist, must be, if not identical, yet in a high degree analogous substances. Hence, from this point of view, the difference between animals and plants consists in this; that, in the latter, the contractile substance, as a primordial utricle, is enclosed within an inert cellulose membrane, which permits it only to exhibit an internal motion, expressed by the phenomena of rotation and circulation, while, in the former, it is not so enclosed. The protoplasm in the form of the primordial utricle is, as it were, the animal element in the plant, but which is imprisoned, and only becomes free in the animal; _or_, to strip off the metaphor which obscures simple thought, the energy of organic vitality which is manifested in movement is especially exhibited by a nitrogenous contractile substance, which in plants is limited and fettered by an inert membrane, in animals not so. "[1]

[Footnote 1: Cohn, "Ueber Protococcus pluvialis, " in the "Nova Acta"for 1850. ]

In 1868, thinking that an untechnical statement of the views currentamong the leaders of biological science might be interesting to thegeneral public, I gave a lecture embodying them in Edinburgh. Thosewho have not made the mistake of attempting to approach biology, either by the high _à priori_ road of mere philosophical speculation, or by the mere low _à posteriori_ lane offered by the tube of amicroscope, but have taken the trouble to become acquainted withwell-ascertained facts and with their history, will not need to betold that in what I had to say "as regards protoplasm" in my lecture"On the Physical Basis of Life, " there was nothing new; and, as Ihope, nothing that the present state of knowledge does not justify usin believing to be true. Under these circumstances, my surprise may beimagined, when I found, that the mere statement of facts and of views, long familiar to me as part of the common scientific property ofcontinental workers, raised a sort of storm in this country, not onlyby exciting the wrath of unscientific persons whose pet prejudicesthey seemed to touch, but by giving rise to quite superfluousexplosions on the part of some who should have been better informed. 

Dr. Stirling, for example, made my essay the subject of a specialcritical lecture[1], which I have read with much interest, though, Iconfess, the meaning of much of it remains as dark to me as does the"Secret of Hegel" after Dr. Stirling's elaborate revelation of it. Dr. Stirling's method of dealing with the subject is peculiar. "Protoplasm" is a question of history, so far as it is a name; offact, so far as it is a thing. Dr. Stirling has not taken the troubleto refer to the original authorities for his history, which isconsequently a travesty; and still less has he concerned himself withlooking at the facts, but contents himself with taking them also atsecondhand. A most amusing example of this fashion of dealing withscientific statements is furnished by Dr. Stirling's remarks upon myaccount of the protoplasm of the nettle hair. That account was drawnup from careful and often-repeated observation of the facts. Dr. Stirling thinks he is offering a valid criticism, when he says that myvalued friend Professor Stricker gives a somewhat different statementabout protoplasm. But why in the world did not this distinguishedHegelian look at a nettle hair for himself, before venturing tospeak about the matter at all? Why trouble himself about what eitherStricker or I say, when any tyro can see the facts for himself, if heis provided with those not rare articles, a nettle and a microscope?But I suppose this would have been "_Aufklärung_"--a recurrence to thebase common-sense philosophy of the eighteenth century, which likedto see before it believed, and to understand before it criticised. Dr. Stirling winds up his paper with the following paragraph:--

[Footnote 1: Subsequently published under the title of "As regardsProtoplasm. "]

 "In short, the whole position of Mr. Huxley, (1) that all organisms consist alike of the same life-matter, (2) which life-matter is, for its part, due only to chemistry, must be pronounced untenable--nor less untenable (3) the materialism he would found on it. "

The paragraph contains three distinct assertions concerning my views, and just the same number of utter misrepresentations of them. Thatwhich I have numbered (1) turns on the ambiguity of the word "same, "for a discussion of which I would refer Dr. Stirling to a great heroof "_Aufklärung_", Archbishop Whately; statement number (2) is, in myjudgment, absurd, and certainly I have never said anything resemblingit; while, as to number (3), one great object of my essay was to showthat what is called "materialism, " has no sound philosophical basis!

As we have seen, the study of yeast has led investigators face to facewith problems of immense interest in pure chemistry, and in animal andvegetable morphology. Its physiology is not less rich in subjects forinquiry. Take, for example, the singular fact that yeast will increaseindefinitely when grown in the dark, in water containing only tartrateof ammonia, a small percentage of mineral salts, and sugar. Out ofthese materials the _Torulae_ will manufacture nitrogenous protoplasm, cellulose, and fatty matters, in any quantity, although they arewholly deprived of those rays of the sun, the influence of which isessential to the growth of ordinary plants. There has been a greatdeal of speculation lately, as to how the living organisms buriedbeneath two or three thousand fathoms of water, and therefore in allprobability almost deprived of light, live. 

If any of them possess the same powers as yeast (and the same capacityfor living without light is exhibited by some other fungi) there wouldseem to be no difficulty about the matter. 

Of the pathological bearings of the study of yeast, and other suchorganisms, I have spoken elsewhere. It is certain that, insome animals, devastating epidemics are caused by fungi of loworder--similar to those of which _Torula_ is a sort of offshoot. It iscertain that such diseases are propagated by contagion and infection, in just the same way as ordinary contagious and infectious diseasesare propagated. Of course, it does not follow from this, that allcontagious and infectious diseases are caused by organisms of asdefinite and independent a character as the _Torula_; but, I think, it does follow that it is prudent and wise to satisfy oneself in eachparticular case, that the "germ theory" cannot and will not explainthe facts, before having recourse to hypotheses which have no equalsupport from analogy. 

V. 

ON THE FORMATION OF COAL. 

The lumps of coal in a coal-scuttle very often have a roughly cubicalform. If one of them be picked out and examined with a little care, itwill be found that its six sides are not exactly alike. Two oppositesides are comparatively smooth and shining, while the other four aremuch rougher, and are marked by lines which run parallel with thesmooth sides. The coal readily splits along these lines, and the splitsurfaces thus formed are parallel with the smooth faces. In otherwords, there is a sort of rough and incomplete stratification in thelump of coal, as if it were a book, the leaves of which had stucktogether very closely. 

Sometimes the faces along which the coal splits are not smooth, butexhibit a thin layer of dull, charred-looking substance, which isknown as "mineral charcoal. "

Occasionally one of the faces of a lump of coal will presentimpressions, which are obviously those of the stem, or leaves, of aplant; but though hard mineral masses of pyrites, and even fine mud, may occur here and there, neither sand nor pebbles are met with. 

When the coal burns, the chief ultimate products of its combustionare carbonic acid, water, and ammoniacal products, which escape up thechimney; and a greater or less amount of residual earthy salts, whichtake the form of ash. These products are, to a great extent, such aswould result from the burning of so much wood. 

These properties of coal may be made out without any very refinedappliances, but the microscope reveals something more. Black andopaque as ordinary coal is, slices of it become transparent if theyare cemented in Canada balsam, and rubbed down very thin, in theordinary way of making thin sections of non-transparent bodies. Butas the thin slices, made in this way, are very apt to crack and breakinto fragments, it is better to employ marine glue as the cementingmaterial. By the use of this substance, slices of considerable sizeand of extreme thinness and transparency may be obtained. [1]

[Footnote 1: My assistant in the Museum of Practical Geology, Mr. Newton, invented this excellent method of obtaining thin slices ofcoal. ]

Now let us suppose two such slices to be prepared from our lump ofcoal--one parallel with the bedding, the other perpendicular to it;and let us call the one the horizontal, and the other the vertical, section. The horizontal section will present more or less roundedyellow patches and streaks, scattered irregularly through the darkbrown, or blackish, ground substance; while the vertical section willexhibit more elongated bars and granules of the same yellow materials, disposed in lines which correspond, roughly, with the generaldirection of the bedding of the coal. 

This is the microscopic structure of an ordinary piece of coal. But ifa great series of coals, from different localities and seams, or evenfrom different parts of the same seam, be examined, this structurewill be found to vary in two directions. In the anthracitic, orstone-coals, which burn like coke, the yellow matter diminishes, andthe ground substance becomes more predominant, and blacker, and moreopaque, until it becomes impossible to grind a section thin enough tobe translucent; while, on the other hand, in such as the "Better-Bed"coal of the neighbourhood of Bradford, which burns with much flame, the coal is of a far lighter colour, and transparent sections are veryeasily obtained. In the browner parts of this coal, sharp eyes willreadily detect multitudes of curious little coin-shaped bodies, of ayellowish brown colour, embedded in the dark brown ground substance. On the average, these little brown bodies may have a diameter of aboutone-twentieth of an inch. They lie with their flat surfaces nearlyparallel with the two smooth faces of the block in which they arecontained; and, on one side of each, there may be discerned a figure, consisting of three straight linear marks, which radiate from thecentre of the disk, but do not quite reach its circumference. In thehorizontal section these disks are often converted into more or lesscomplete rings; while in the vertical sections they appear like thickhoops, the sides of which have been pressed together. The disks are, therefore, flattened bags; and favourable sections show that thethree-rayed marking is the expression of three clefts, which penetrateone wall of the bag. 

The sides of the bags are sometimes closely approximated; but, whenthe bags are less flattened, their cavities are, usually, filled withnumerous, irregularly rounded, hollow bodies, having the same kind ofwall as the large ones, but not more than one seven-hundredth of aninch in diameter. 

In favourable specimens, again, almost the whole ground substanceappears to be made up of similar bodies--more or less carbonizedor blackened--and, in these, there can be no doubt that, with theexception of patches of mineral charcoal, here and there, the wholemass of the coal is made up of an accumulation of the larger and ofthe smaller sacs. 

But, in one and the same slice, every transition can be observed fromthis structure to that which has been described as characteristic ofordinary coal. The latter appears to rise out of the former, by thebreaking-up and increasing carbonization of the larger and the smallersacs. And, in the anthracitic coals, this process appears to have goneto such a length, as to destroy the original structure altogether, andto replace it by a completely carbonized substance. 

Thus coal may be said, speaking broadly, to be composed of twoconstituents: firstly, mineral charcoal; and, secondly, coal proper. The nature of the mineral charcoal has long since been determined. Itsstructure shows it to consist of the remains of the stems and leavesof plants, reduced to little more than their carbon. Again, some ofthe coal is made up of the crushed and flattened bark, or outer coat, of the stems of plants, the inner wood of which has completely decayedaway. But what I may term the "saccular matter" of the coal, which, either in its primary or in its degraded form, constitutes by far thegreater part of all the bituminous coals I have examined, is certainlynot mineral charcoal; nor is its structure that of any stem or leaf. Hence its real nature is, at first, by no means apparent, and has beenthe subject of much discussion. 

The first person who threw any light upon the problem, as far as Ihave been able to discover, was the well-known geologist, ProfessorMorris. It is now thirty-four years since he carefully described andfigured the coin-shaped bodies, or larger sacs, as I have calledthem, in a note appended to the famous paper "On the Coal-brookdaleCoal-Field, " published at that time, by the present President ofthe Geological Society, Mr. Prestwich. With much sagacity, ProfessorMorris divined the real nature of these bodies, and boldlyaffirmed them to be the spore-cases of a plant allied to the livingclub-mosses. 

But discovery sometimes makes a long halt; and it is only a fewyears since Mr. Carruthers determined the plant (or rather one of theplants) which produces these spore-cases, by finding the discoidalsacs still adherent to the leaves of the fossilized cone whichproduced them. He gave the name of _Flemingites gracilis_ to the plantof which the cones form a part. The branches and stem of this plantare not yet certainly known, but there is no sort of doubt that it wasclosely allied to the _Lepidodendron_, the remains of which abound inthe coal formation. The _Lepidodendra_ were shrubs and trees which putone more in mind of an _Araucaria_ than of any other familiar plant;and the ends of the fruiting branches were terminated by cones, orcatkins, somewhat like the bodies so named in a fir, or a willow. These conical fruits, however, did not produce seeds; but the leavesof which they were composed bore upon their surfaces sacs full ofspores or sporangia, such as those one sees on the under surface of abracken leaf. Now, it is these sporangia of the Lepidodendroid plant_Flemingites_ which were identified by Mr. Carruthers with the freesporangia described by Professor Morris, which are the same as thelarge sacs of which I have spoken. And, more than this, there isno doubt that the small sacs are the spores, which were originallycontained in the sporangia. 

The living club-mosses are, for the most part, insignificant andcreeping herbs, which, superficially, very closely resemble truemosses, and none of them reach more than two or three feet in height. But, in their essential structure, they very closely resemble theearliest Lepidodendroid trees of the coal: their stems and leaves aresimilar; so are their cones; and no less like are the sporangia andspores; while even in their size, the spores of the _Lepidodendron_and those of the existing _Lycopodium_, or club-moss, very closelyapproach one another. 

Thus, the singular conclusion is forced upon us, that the greater andthe smaller sacs of the "Better-Bed" and other coals, in which theprimitive structure is well preserved, are simply the sporangia andspores of certain plants, many of which were closely allied to theexisting club-mosses. And if, as I believe, it can be demonstratedthat ordinary coal is nothing but "saccular" coal which has undergonea certain amount of that alteration which, if continued, would convertit into anthracite; then, the conclusion is obvious, that the greatmass of the coal we burn is the result of the accumulation of thespores and spore-cases of plants, other parts of which have furnishedthe carbonized stems and the mineral charcoal, or have left theirimpressions on the surfaces of the layer. 

Of the multitudinous speculations which, at various times, have beenentertained respecting the origin and mode of formation of coal, several appear to be negatived, and put out of court, by thestructural facts the significance of which I have endeavoured toexplain. These facts, for example, do not permit us to suppose thatcoal is an accumulation of peaty matter, as some have held. 

Again, the late Professor Quekett was one of the first observerswho gave a correct description of what I have termed the "saccular"structure of coal; and, rightly perceiving that this structure wassomething quite different from that of any known plant, he imaginedthat it proceeded from some extinct vegetable organism which waspeculiarly abundant amongst the coal-forming plants. But thisexplanation is at once shown to be untenable when the smaller and thelarger sacs are proved to be spores or sporangia. 

Some, once more, have imagined that coal was of submarine origin; andthough the notion is amply and easily refuted by other considerations, it may be worth while to remark, that it is impossible to comprehendhow a mass of light and resinous spores should have reached the bottomof the sea, or should have stopped in that position if they had gotthere. 

At the same time, it is proper to remark that I do not presume tosuggest that all coal must needs have the same structure; or thatthere may not be coals in which the proportions of wood and spores, orspore-cases, are very different from those which I have examined. AllI repeat is, that none of the coals which have come under my noticehave enabled me to observe such a difference. But, according toPrincipal Dawson, who has so sedulously examined the fossil remains ofplants in North America, it is otherwise with the vast accumulationsof coal in that country. 

 "The true coal, " says Dr. Dawson, "consists principally of the flattened bark of Sigillarioid and other trees, intermixed with leaves of Ferns and _Cordaites_, and other herbaceous _débris_, and with fragments of decayed wood, constituting 'mineral charcoal, ' all these materials having manifestly alike grown and accumulated where we find them. "[1]

[Footnote 1: "Acadian Geology, " 2nd edition, p. 138. ]

When I had the pleasure of seeing Principal Dawson in London lastsummer, I showed him my sections of coal, and begged him to re-examinesome of the American coals on his return to Canada, with an eye to thepresence of spores and sporangia, such as I was able to show him inour English and Scotch coals. He has been good enough to do so; and ina letter dated September 26th, 1870, he informs me that--

 "Indications of spore-cases are rare, except in certain coarse shaly coals and portions of coals, and in the roofs of the seams. The most marked case I have yet met with is the shaly coal referred to as containing _Sporangites_ in my paper on the conditions of accumulation of coal (_Journal of the Geological Society_, vol. Xxii. Pp. 115, 139, and 165). The purer coals certainly consist principally of cubical tissues with some true woody matter, and the spore-cases, &c. , are chiefly in the coarse and shaly layers. This is my old doctrine in my two papers in the _Journal of the Geological Society_, and I see nothing to modify it. Your observations, however, make it probable that the frequent _clear spots_ in the cannels are spore-cases. "

Dr. Dawson's results are the more remarkable, as the numerousspecimens of British coal, from various localities, which I haveexamined, tell one tale as to the predominance of the spore andsporangium element in their composition; and as it is exactly in thefinest and purest coals, such as the "Better-Bed" coal of Lowmoor, that the spores and sporangia obviously constitute almost the entiremass of the deposit. 

Coal, such as that which has been described, is always found insheets, or "seams, " varying from a fraction of an inch to many feetin thickness, enclosed in the substance of the earth at very variousdepths, between beds of rock of different kinds. As a rule, every seamof coal rests upon a thicker, or thinner, bed of clay, which is knownas "under-clay. " These alternations of beds of coal, clay, and rockmay be repeated many times, and are known as the "coal-measures;"and in some regions, as in South Wales and in Nova Scotia, thecoal-measures attain a thickness of twelve or fourteen thousandfeet, and enclose eighty or a hundred seams of coal, each with itsunder-clay, and separated from those above and below by beds ofsandstone and shale. 

The position of the beds which constitute the coal-measures isinfinitely diverse. Sometimes they are tilted up vertically, sometimesthey are horizontal, sometimes curved into great basins; sometimesthey come to the surface, sometimes they are covered up by thousandsof feet of rock. But, whatever their present position, there isabundant and conclusive evidence that every under-clay was once asurface soil. Not only do carbonized root-fibres frequently abound inthese under-clays; but the stools of trees, the trunks of which arebroken off and confounded with the bed of coal, have been repeatedlyfound passing into radiating roots, still embedded in the under-clay. On many parts of the coast of England, what are commonly known as"submarine forests" are to be seen at low water. They consist, for themost part, of short stools of oak, beech, and fir trees, still fixedby their long roots in the bed of blue clay in which they originallygrew. If one of these submarine forest beds should be graduallydepressed and covered up by new deposits, it would present just thesame characters as an under-clay of the coal, if the _Sigillaria_ and_Lepidodendron_ of the ancient world were substituted for the oak, orthe beech, of our own times. 

In a tropical forest, at the present day, the trunks of fallen trees, and the stools of such trees as may have been broken by the violenceof storms, remain entire for but a short time. Contrary to what mightbe expected, the dense wood of the tree decays, and suffers from theravages of insects, more swiftly than the bark. And the traveller, setting his foot on a prostrate trunk, finds that it is a mere shell, which breaks under his weight, and lands his foot amidst the insects, or the reptiles, which have sought food or refuge within. 

The trees of the coal forests present parallel conditions. When thefallen trunks which have entered into the composition of the bed ofcoal are identifiable, they are mere double shells of bark, flattenedtogether in consequence of the destruction of the woody core; and SirCharles Lyell and Principal Dawson discovered, in the hollow stoolsof coal trees of Nova Scotia, the remains of snails, millipedes, and salamander-like creatures, embedded in a deposit of a differentcharacter from that which surrounded the exterior of the trees. Thus, in endeavouring to comprehend the formation of a seam of coal, we musttry to picture to ourselves a thick forest, formed for the most partof trees like gigantic club-mosses, mares-tails, and tree ferns, withhere and there some that had more resemblance to our existing yews andfir-trees. We must suppose that, as the seasons rolled by, the plantsgrew and developed their spores and seeds; that they shed these inenormous quantities, which accumulated on the ground beneath; andthat, every now and then, they added a dead frond or leaf; or, atlonger intervals, a rotten branch, or a dead trunk, to the mass. 

A certain proportion of the spores and seeds no doubt fulfilled theirobvious function, and, carried by the wind to unoccupied regions, extended the limits of the forest; many might be washed away by raininto streams, and be lost; but a large portion must have remained, toaccumulate like beech-mast, or acorns, beneath the trees of a modernforest. 

But, in this case, it may be asked, why does not our English coalconsist of stems and leaves to a much greater extent than it does?What is the reason of the predominance of the spores and spore-casesin it?

A ready answer to this question is afforded by the study of a livingfull-grown club-moss. Shake it upon a piece of paper, and it emits acloud of fine dust, which falls over the paper, and is the well-knownLycopodium powder. Now this powder used to be, and I believe stillis, employed for two objects, which seem at first sight to have noparticular connection with one another. It is, or was, employed inmaking lightning, and in making pills. The coats of the spores containso much resinous matter, that a pinch of Lycopodium powder, thrownthrough the flame of a candle, burns with an instantaneous flash, which has long done duty for lightning on the stage. And the samecharacter makes it a capital coating for pills; for the resinouspowder prevents the drug from being wetted by the saliva, and thusbars the nauseous flavour from the sensitive papillae of the tongue. 

But this resinous matter, which lies in the walls of the spores andsporangia, is a substance not easily altered by air and water, and hence tends to preserve these bodies, just as the bituminizedcerecloth preserves an Egyptian mummy; while, on the other hand, themerely woody stem and leaves tend to rot, as fast as the wood of themummy's coffin has rotted. Thus the mixed heap of spores, leaves, and stems in the coal-forest would be persistently searched by thelong-continued action of air and rain; the leaves and stems wouldgradually be reduced to little but their carbon, or, in other words, to the condition of mineral charcoal in which we find them; while thespores and sporangia remained as a comparatively unaltered and compactresiduum. 

There is, indeed, tolerably clear evidence that the coal must, undersome circumstances, have been converted into a substance hard enoughto be rolled into pebbles, while it yet lay at the surface of theearth; for in some seams of coal, the courses of rivulets, which musthave been living water, while the stratum in which their remains arefound was still at the surface, have been observed to contain rolledpebbles of the very coal through which the stream has cut its way. 

The structural facts are such as to leave no alternative but to adoptthe view of the origin of such coal as I have described, which hasjust been stated; but, happily, the process is not without analogy atthe present day. I possess a specimen of what is called "white coal"from Australia. It is an inflammable material, burning with a brightflame, and having much the consistence and appearance of oat-cake, which, I am informed, covers a considerable area. It consists, almostentirely, of a compacted mass of spores and spore-cases. But the fineparticles of blown sand which are scattered through it, show that itmust have accumulated, subaërially, upon the surface of a soil coveredby a forest of cryptogamous plants, probably tree-ferns. 

As regards this important point of the subaërial region of coal, I amglad to find myself in entire accordance with Principal Dawson, who bases his conclusions upon other, but no less forcible, considerations. In a passage, which is the continuation of thatalready cited, he writes:--

 "(3) The microscopical structure and chemical composition of the beds of cannel coal and earthy bitumen, and of the more highly bituminous and carbonaeceous shale, show them to have been of the nature of the fine vegetable mud which accumulates in the ponds and shallow lakes of modern swamps. When such fine vegetable sediment is mixed, as is often the case, with clay, it becomes similar to the bituminous limestone and calcareo-bituminous shales of the coal-measures. (4) A few of the under-clays, which support beds of coal, are of the nature of the vegetable mud above referred to; but the greater part are argillo-arenaceous in composition, with little vegetable matter, and bleached by the drainage from them of water containing the products of vegetable decay. They are, in short, loamy or clay soils, and must have been sufficiently above water to admit of drainage. The absence of sulphurets, and the occurrence of carbonate of iron in connection with them, prove that, when they existed as soils, rain-water, and not sea-water, percolated them. (5) The coal and the fossil forests present many evidences of subaërial conditions. Most of the erect and prostrate trees had become hollow shells of bark before they were finally embedded, and their wood had broken into cubical pieces of mineral charcoal. Land-snails and galley-worms _Xylobius_ crept into them, and they became dens, or traps, for reptiles. Large quantities of mineral charcoal occur on the surface of all the large beds of coal. None of these appearances could have been produced by subaqueous action. (6) Though the roots of the _Sigillaria_ bear more resemblance to the rhizomes of certain aquatic plants; yet, structurally, they are absolutely identical with the roots of Cycads, which the stems also resemble. Further, the _Sigillariae_ grew on the same soils which supported Conifers, _Lepidodendra, Cordaites_, and Ferns--plants which could not have grown in water. Again, with the exception perhaps of some _Pinnulariae_ and _Asterophyllites_, there is a remarkable absence from the coal measures of any form of properly aquatic vegetation. (7) The occurrence of marine, or brackish-water animals, in the roofs of coal-beds, or even in the coal itself, affords no evidence of subaqueous accumulation, since the same thing occurs in the case of modern submarine forests. For these and other reasons, some of which are more fully stated in the papers already referred to, while I admit that the areas of coal accumulation were frequently submerged, I must maintain that the true coal is a subaërial accumulation by vegetable growth on soils, wet and swampy it is true, but not submerged. "

I am almost disposed to doubt whether it is necessary to make theconcession of "wet and swampy;" otherwise, there is nothing that Iknow of to be said against this excellent conspectus of the reasonsfor believing in the subaërial origin of coal. 

But the coal accumulated upon the area covered by one of the greatforests of the carboniferous epoch would, in course of time, havebeen wasted away by the small, but constant, wear and tear of rain andstreams, had the land which supported it remained at the same level, or been gradually raised to a greater elevation. And, no doubt, asmuch coal as now exists has been destroyed, after its formation, inthis way. What are now known as coal districts owe their importance tothe fact that they were areas of slow depression, during a greater orless portion of the carboniferous epoch; and that, in virtue of thiscircumstance, Mother Earth was enabled to cover up her vegetabletreasures, and preserve them from destruction. 

Wherever a coal-field now exists, there must formerly have been freeaccess for a great river, or for a shallow sea, bearing sediment inthe shape of sand and mud. When the coal-forest area became slowlydepressed, the waters must have spread over it, and have depositedtheir burden upon the surface of the bed of coal, in the form oflayers, which are now converted into shale, or sandstone. Thenfollowed a period of rest, in which the superincumbent shallow watersbecame completely filled up, and finally replaced, by fine mud, whichsettled down into a new under-clay, and furnished the soil for a freshforest growth. This flourished, and heaped up its spores and wood intocoal, until the stage of slow depression recommenced. And, in somelocalities, as I have mentioned, the process was repeated until thefirst of the alternating beds had sunk to near three miles below itsoriginal level at the surface of the earth. 

In reflecting on the statement, thus briefly made, of the main factsconnected with the origin of the coal formed during the carboniferousepoch, two or three considerations suggest themselves. 

In the first place, the great phantom of geological time rises beforethe student of this, as of all other, fragments of the history of ourearth--springing irrepressibly out of the facts, like the Djin fromthe jar which the fisherman so incautiously opened; and like the Djinagain, being vaporous, shifting, and indefinable, but unmistakablygigantic. However modest the bases of one's calculation may be, the minimum of time assignable to the coal period remains somethingstupendous. 

Principal Dawson is the last person likely to be guilty ofexaggeration in this matter, and it will be well to consider what hehas to say about it:--

 "The rate of accumulation of coal was very slow. The climate of the period, in the northern temperate zone, was of such a character that the true conifers show rings of growth, not larger, nor much less distinct, than those of many of their modern congeners. The _Sigillariae_ and _Calamites_ were not, as often supposed, composed wholly, or even principally, of lax and soft tissues, or necessarily short-lived. The former had, it is true, a very thick inner bark; but their dense woody axis, their thick and nearly imperishable outer bark, and their scanty and rigid foliage, would indicate no very rapid growth or decay. In the case of the _Sigillariae_, the variations in the leaf-scars in different parts of the trunk, the intercalation of new ridges at the surface representing that of new woody wedges in the axis, the transverse marks left by the stages of upward growth, all indicate that several years must have been required for the growth of stems of moderate size. The enormous roots of these trees, and the condition of the coal-swamps, must have exempted them from the danger of being overthrown by violence. They probably fell in successive generations from natural decay; and making every allowance for other materials, we may safely assert that every foot of thickness of pure bituminous coal implies the quiet growth and fall of at least fifty generations of _Sigillariae_, and therefore an undisturbed condition of forest growth enduring through many centuries. Further, there is evidence that an immense amount of loose parenchymatous tissue, and even of wood, perished by decay, and we do not know to what extent even the most durable tissues may have disappeared in this way; so that, in many coal-seams, we may have only a very small part of the vegetable matter produced. "

Undoubtedly the force of these reflections is not diminished when thebituminous coal, as in Britain, consists of accumulated spores andspore-cases, rather than of stems. But, suppose we adopt PrincipalDawson's assumption, that one foot of coal represents fiftygenerations of coal plants; and, further, make the moderatesupposition that each generation of coal plants took ten years to cometo maturity--then, each foot-thickness of coal represents five hundredyears. The superimposed beds of coal in one coal-field may amount toa thickness of fifty or sixty feet, and therefore the coal alone, inthat field, represents 500 x 50 = 25, 000 years. But the actual coal isbut an insignificant portion of the total deposit, which, as has beenseen, may amount to between two and three miles of vertical thickness. Suppose it be 12, 000 feet--which is 240 times the thickness of theactual coal--is there any reason why we should believe it may not havetaken 240 times as long to form? I know of none. But, in this case, the time which the coal-field represents would be 25, 000 x 240=6, 000, 000 years. As affording a definite chronology, of course suchcalculations as these are of no value; but they have much use infixing one's attention upon a possible minimum. A man may be puzzledif he is asked how long Rome took a-building; but he is proverbiallysafe if he affirms it not to have been built in a day; and ourgeological calculations are all, at present, pretty much on thatfooting. 

A second consideration which the study of the coal brings prominentlybefore the mind of anyone who is familiar with palaeontology is, thatthe coal Flora, viewed in relation to the enormous period of timewhich it lasted, and to the still vaster period which has elapsedsince it flourished, underwent little change while it endured, and inits peculiar characters, differs strangely little from that which atpresent exists. 

The same species of plants are to be met with throughout the wholethickness of a coal-field, and the youngest are not sensibly differentfrom the oldest. But more than this. Notwithstanding that thecarboniferous period is separated from us by more than the whole timerepresented by the secondary and tertiary formations, the great typesof vegetation were as distinct then as now. The structure of themodern club-moss furnishes a complete explanation of the fossilremains of the _Lepidodendra_, and the fronds of some of the ancientferns are hard to distinguish from existing ones. At the same time, it must be remembered, that there is nowhere in the world, at present, any _forest_ which bears more than a rough analogy with a coal-forest. The types may remain, but the details of their form, their relativeproportions, their associates, are all altered. And the tree-fernforest of Tasmania, or New Zealand, gives one only a faint and remoteimage of the vegetation of the ancient world. 

Once more, an invariably-recurring lesson of geological history, at whatever point its study is taken up: the lesson of the almostinfinite slowness of the modification of living forms. The lines ofthe pedigrees of living things break off almost before they begin toconverge. 

Finally, yet another curious consideration. Let us suppose that one ofthe stupid, salamander-like Labyrinthodonts, which pottered, withmuch belly and little leg, like Falstaff in his old age, among thecoal-forests, could have had thinking power enough in his small brainto reflect upon the showers of spores which kept on falling throughyears and centuries, while perhaps not one in ten million fulfilledits apparent purpose, and reproduced the organism which gave it birth:surely he might have been excused for moralizing upon the thoughtlessand wanton extravagance which Nature displayed in her operations. 

But we have the advantage over our shovel-headed predecessor--orpossibly ancestor--and can perceive that a certain vein of thrift runsthrough this apparent prodigality. Nature is never in a hurry, andseems to have had always before her eyes the adage, "Keep a thing longenough, and you will find a use for it. " She has kept her beds of coalmany millions of years without being able to find much use for them;she has sent them down beneath the sea, and the sea-beasts could makenothing of them; she has raised them up into dry land, and laid theblack veins bare, and still, for ages and ages, there was no livingthing on the face of the earth that could see any sort of value inthem; and it was only the other day, so to speak, that she turned anew creature out of her workshop, who by degrees acquired sufficientwits to make a fire, and then to discover that the black rock wouldburn. 

I suppose that nineteen hundred years ago, when Julius Caesar was goodenough to deal with Britain as we have dealt with New Zealand, theprimaeval Briton, blue with cold and woad, may have known that thestrange black stone, of which he found lumps here and there in hiswanderings, would burn, and so help to warm his body and cook hisfood. Saxon, Dane, and Norman swarmed into the land. The Englishpeople grew into a powerful nation, and Nature still waited for a fullreturn of the capital she had invested in the ancient club-mosses. Theeighteenth century arrived, and with it James Watt. The brain of thatman was the spore out of which was developed the steam-engine, and allthe prodigious trees and branches of modern industry which have grownout of this. But coal is as much an essential condition of this growthand development as carbonic acid is for that of a club-moss. Wantingcoal, we could not have smelted the iron needed to make our engines, nor have worked our engines when we had got them. But take away theengines, and the great towns of Yorkshire and Lancashire vanish like adream. Manufactures give place to agriculture and pasture, and not tenmen can live where now ten thousand are amply supported. 

Thus, all this abundant wealth of money and of vivid life is Nature'sinterest upon her investment in club-mosses, and the like, so longago. But what becomes of the coal which is burnt in yielding thisinterest? Heat comes out of it, light comes out of it, and if we couldgather together all that goes up the chimney; and all that remains inthe grate of a thoroughly-burnt coal-fire, we should find ourselves inpossession of a quantity of carbonic acid, water, ammonia, and mineralmatters, exactly equal in weight to the coal. But these are the verymatters with which Nature supplied the club-mosses which made thecoal. She is paid back principal and interest at the same time; andshe straightway invests the carbonic acid, the water, and the ammoniain new forms of life, feeding with them the plants that now live. Thrifty Nature! Surely no prodigal, but most notable of housekeepers!

VI. 

ON CORAL AND CORAL REEFS. 

The marine productions which are commonly known by the names of"Corals" and "Corallines, " were thought by the ancients to besea-weeds, which had the singular property of becoming hard andsolid, when they were fished up from their native depths and came intocontact with the air. 

 "Sic et curalium, quo primum contigit auras Tempore durescit: mollis fuit herba sub undis, "

says Ovid (Metam. Xv. ); and it was not until the seventeenth centurythat Boccone was emboldened, by personal experience of the facts, todeclare that the holders of this belief were no better than "idiots, "who had been misled by the softness of the outer coat of the livingred coral to imagine that it was soft all through. 

Messer Boccone's strong epithet is probably undeserved, as thenotion he controverts, in all likelihood, arose merely from themisinterpretation of the strictly true statement which any coralfisherman would make to a curious inquirer; namely, that the outsidecoat of the red coral is quite soft when it is taken out of the sea. At any rate, he did good service by eliminating this much error fromthe current notions about coral. But the belief that corals are plantsremained, not only in the popular, but in the scientific mind; andit received what appeared to be a striking confirmation from theresearches of Marsigli in 1706. For this naturalist, having theopportunity of observing freshly-taken red coral, saw that itsbranches were beset with what looked like delicate and beautifulflowers, each having eight petals. It was true that these "flowers"could protrude and retract themselves, but their motions were hardlymore extensive, or more varied, than those of the leaves of thesensitive plant; and therefore they could not be held to militateagainst the conclusion so strongly suggested by their form and theirgrouping upon the branches of a tree-like structure. 

Twenty years later, a pupil of Marsigli, the young Marseillesphysician, Peyssonel, conceived the desire to study these singularsea-plants, and was sent by the French Government on a mission to theMediterranean for that purpose. The pupil undertook the investigationfull of confidence in the ideas of his master, but being able to seeand think for himself, he soon discovered that those ideas by no meansaltogether corresponded with reality. In an essay entitled "Traité duCorail, " which was communicated to the French Academy of Science, butwhich has never been published, Peyssonel writes:--

 "Je fis fleurir le corail dans des vases pleins d'eau de mer, et j'observai que ce que nous croyons être la fleur de cette prétendue plante n'était au vrai, qu'un insecte semblable à une petite Ortie ou Poulpe. J'avais le plaisir de voir remuer les pattes, ou pieds, de cette Ortie, et ayant mis le vase plein d'eau où le corail était à une douce chaleur auprès du feu, tous les petites insectes s'épanouirent ... L'Ortie sortie étend les pieds, et forme ce que M. De Marsigli et moi avions pris pour les pétales de la fleur. Le calice de cette prétendue fleur est le corps même de l'animal avancé et sorti hors de la cellule. "[1]

[Footnote 1: This extract from Peysonnel's manuscript is given byM. Lacaze Duthiers in his valuable "Histoire Naturelle du Corail"(1866). ]

The comparison of the flowers of the coral to a "petite ortie" or"little nettle" is perfectly just, but needs explanation. "Ortie demer, " or "sea-nettle, " is, in fact, the French appellation for our"sea-anemone, " a creature with which everybody, since the greataquarium mania, must have become familiar, even to the limits ofboredom. In 1710, the great naturalist, Réaumur, had written a memoirfor the express purpose of demonstrating that these "orties" areanimals; and with this important paper Peyssonel must necessarily havebeen familiar. Therefore, when he declared the "flowers" of the redcoral to be little "orties, " it was the same thing as saying thatthey were animals of the same general nature as sea-anemones. Butto Peyssonel's contemporaries this was an extremely startlingannouncement. It was hard to imagine the existence of such a thingas an association of animals into a structure with stem and branchesaltogether like a plant, and fixed to the soil as a plant is fixed;and the naturalists of that day preferred not to imagine it. EvenRéaumur could not bring himself to accept the notion, and France beingblessed with Academicians, whose great function (as the late BishopWilson and an eminent modern writer have so well shown) is to causesweetness and light to prevail, and to prevent such unmannerly fellowsas Peyssonel from blurting out unedifying truths, they suppressed him;and, as aforesaid, his great work remained in manuscript, and mayat this day be consulted by the curious in that state, in the"Bibliothèque du Muséum d'Histoire Naturelle. " Peyssonel, whoevidently was a person of savage and untameable disposition, so farfrom appreciating the kindness of the Academicians in giving him timeto reflect upon the unreasonableness, not to say rudeness, of makingpublic statements in opposition to the views of some of the mostdistinguished of their body, seems bitterly to have resented thetreatment he met with. For he sent all further communications to theRoyal Society of London, which never had, and it is to be hoped neverwill have, anything of an academic constitution; and finally tookhimself off to Guadaloupe, and became lost to science altogether. 

Fifteen or sixteen years after the date of Peyssonel's suppressedpaper, the Abbé Trembley published his wonderful researches upon thefresh-water _Hydra_. Bernard de Jussieu and Guettard followed themup by like inquiries upon the marine sea-anemones and corallines;Réaumur, convinced against his will of the entire justice ofPeyssonel's views, adopted them, and made him a half-and-half apologyin the preface to the next published volume of the "Mémoires pourservir à l'Histoire des Insectes;" and, from this time forth, Peyssonel's doctrine that corals are the work of animal organisms hasbeen part of the body of established scientific truth. 

Peyssonel, in the extract from his memoir already cited, compares theflower-like animal of the coral to a "poulpe, " which is the Frenchform of the name "polypus, "--"the many-footed, "--which the ancientnaturalists gave to the soft-bodied cuttle-fishes, which, like thecoral animal, have eight arms, or tentacles, disposed around a centralmouth. Réaumur, admitting the analogy indicated by Peyssonel, gave thename of _polypes_, not only to the sea-anemone, the coral animal, andthe fresh-water _Hydra_, but to what are now known as the _Polyzoa_, and he termed the skeleton which they fabricate a "_polypier_" or"polypidom. "

The progress of discovery, since Réaumur's time, has made us verycompletely acquainted with the structure and habits of all thesepolypes. We know that, among the sea-anemones and coral-forminganimals, each polype has a mouth leading to a stomach, which is openat its inner end, and thus communicates freely with the general cavityof the body; that the tentacles placed round the mouth are hollow, andthat they perform the part of arms in seizing and capturing prey. Itis known that many of these creatures are capable of being multipliedby artificial division, the divided halves growing, after a time, intocomplete and separate animals; and that many are able to perform avery similar process naturally, in such a manner that one polype may, by repeated incomplete divisions, give rise to a sort of sheet, or turf, formed by innumerable connected, and yet independent, descendants. Or, what is still more common, a polype may throw outbuds, which are converted into polypes, or branches bearing polypes, until a tree-like mass, sometimes of very considerable size, isformed. 

This is what happens in the case of the red coral of commerce. Aminute polype, fixed to the rocky bottom of the deep sea, grows upinto a branched trunk. The end of every branch and twig is terminatedby a polype; and all the polypes are connected together by a fleshysubstance, traversed by innumerable canals which place each polype incommunication with every other, and carry nourishment to the substanceof the supporting stem. It is a sort of natural co-operative store, every polype helping the whole, at the same time as it helps itself. The interior of the stem, like that of the branches, is solidifiedby the deposition of carbonate of lime in its tissue, somewhat in thesame fashion as our own bones are formed of animal matter impregnatedwith lime salts; and it is this dense skeleton (usually turneddeep red by a peculiar colouring matter) cleared of the soft animalinvestment, as the heart-wood of a tree might be stripped of its bark, which is the red coral. 

In the case of the red coral, the hard skeleton belongs to theinterior of the stem and branches only; but in the commoner whitecorals, each polype has a complete skeleton of its own. Thesepolypes ate sometimes solitary, in which case the whole skeleton isrepresented by a single cup, with partitions radiating from its centreto its circumference. When the polypes formed by budding or divisionremain associated, the polypidom is sometimes made up of nothing butan aggregation of these cups, while at other times the cups are atonce separated and held together, by an intermediate substance, whichrepresents the branches of the red coral. The red coral polypeagain is a comparatively rare animal, inhabiting a limited area, theskeleton of which has but a very insignificant mass; while the whitecorals are very common, occur in almost all seas, and form skeletonswhich are sometimes extremely massive. 

With a very few exceptions, both the red and the white coral polypesare, in their adult state, firmly adherent to the sea-bottom; nor dotheir buds naturally become detached and locomotive. But, in additionto budding and division, these creatures possess the more ordinarymethods of multiplication; and, at particular seasons, they giverise to numerous eggs of minute size. Within these eggs the young areformed, and they leave the egg in a condition which has no sort ofresemblance to the perfect animal. It is, in fact, a minute oval body, many hundred times smaller than the full-grown creature, and itswims about with great activity by the help of multitudes of littlehair-like filaments, called cilia, with which its body is covered. These cilia all lash the water in one direction, and so drive thelittle body along as if it were propelled by thousands of extremelyminute paddles. After enjoying its freedom for a longer or shortertime, and being carried either by the force of its own cilia, or bycurrents which bear it along, the embryo coral settles down to thebottom, loses its cilia, and becomes fixed to the rock, graduallyassuming the polype form and growing up to the size of its parent. As the infant polypes of the coral may retain this free and activecondition for many hours, or even days, and as a tidal or othercurrent in the sea may easily flow at the speed of two or evenmore miles in an hour, it is clear that the embryo must often betransported to very considerable distances from the parent. And itis easily understood how a single polype, which may give rise tohundreds, or perhaps thousands, of embryos, may, by this process ofpartly active and partly passive migration, cover an immense surfacewith its offspring. The masses of coral which may be formed by theassemblages of polypes which spring by budding, or by dividing, from asingle polype, occasionally attain very considerable dimensions. Suchskeletons are sometimes great plates, many feet long and several feetin thickness; or they may form huge half globes, like the brainstonecorals, or may reach the magnitude of stout shrubs, or even smalltrees. There is reason to believe that such masses as these take along time to form, and hence that the age a polype tree, or polypeturf, may attain, may be considerable. But, sooner or later, the coralpolypes, like all other things, die; the soft flesh decays, while theskeleton is left as a stony mass at the bottom of the sea, where itretains its integrity for a longer or a shorter time, according as itsposition affords it more or less protection from the wear and tear ofthe waves. 

The polypes which give rise to the white coral are found, as has beensaid, in the seas of all parts of the world; but in the temperate andcold oceans they are scattered and comparatively small in size, so that the skeletons of those which die do not accumulate in anyconsiderable quantity. But it is otherwise in the greater part of theocean which lies in the warmer parts of the world, comprised within adistance of about 1, 800 miles on each side of the equator. Within thezone thus bounded, by far the greater part of the ocean is inhabitedby coral polypes, which not only form very strong and large skeletons, but associate together into great masses, like the thickets and themeadow turf, or, better still, the accumulations of peat, to whichplants give rise on the dry land. These masses of stony matter, heapedup beneath the waters of the ocean, become as dangerous to marinersas so much ordinary rock, and to these, as to common rock ridges, theseaman gives the name of "reefs. "

Such coral reefs cover many thousand square miles in the Pacific andin the Indian Oceans. There is one reef, or rather great series ofreefs, called the Barrier Reef, which stretches, almost continuously, for more than 1, 100 miles off the east coast of Australia. Multitudesof the island in the Pacific are either reefs themselves, or aresurrounded by reefs. The Red Sea is in many parts almost a maze ofsuch reefs; and they abound no less in the West Indies, along thecoast of Florida, and even as far north as the Bahama Islands. But itis a very remarkable circumstance that, within the area of what we maycall the "coral zone, " there are no coral reefs upon the west coast ofAmerica, nor upon the west coast of Africa; and it is a general factthat the reefs are interrupted, or absent, opposite the mouths ofgreat rivers. The causes of this apparent caprice in the distributionof coral reefs are not far to seek. The polypes which fabricate themrequire for their vigorous growth a temperature which must not fallbelow 68 degrees Fahrenheit all the year round, and this temperatureis only to be found within the distance on each side of the equatorwhich has been mentioned, or thereabouts. But even within the coralzone this degree of warmth is not everywhere to be had. On the westcoast of America, and on the corresponding coast of Africa, currentsof cold water from the icy regions which surround the South Pole setnorthward, and it appears to be due to their cooling influence thatthe sea in these regions is free from the reef builders. Again, thecoral polypes cannot live in water which is rendered brackish byfloods from the land, or which is perturbed by mud from the samesource, and hence it is that they cease to exist opposite the mouthsof rivers, which damage them in both these ways. 

Such is the general distribution of the reef-building corals, butthere are some very interesting and singular circumstances to beobserved in the conformation of the reefs, when we consider themindividually. The reefs, in fact, are of three different kinds; someof them stretch out from the shore, almost like a prolongation of thebeach, covered only by shallow water, and in the case of an island, surrounding it like a fringe of no considerable breadth. These aretermed "fringing reefs. " Others are separated by a channel which mayattain a width of many miles, and a depth of twenty or thirty fathomsor more, from the nearest land; and when this land is an island, thereef surrounds it like a low wall, and the sea between the reef andthe land is, as it were, a moat inside this wall. Such reefs as theseare called "encircling" when they surround an island; and "barrier"reefs, when they stretch parallel with the coast of a continent. In both these cases there is ordinary dry land inside the reef, andseparated from it only by a narrower or a wider, a shallower or adeeper, space of sea, which is called a "lagoon, " or "inner passage. "But there is a third kind of reef, of very common occurrence in thePacific and Indian Oceans, which goes by the name of an "Atoll. " Thisis, to all intents and purposes, an encircling reef, without anythingto encircle; or, in other words, without an island in the middleof its lagoon. The atoll has exactly the appearance of a vast, irregularly oval, or circular, breakwater, enclosing smooth water inits midst. The depth of the water in the lagoon rarely exceeds twentyor thirty fathoms, but, outside the reef, it deepens with greatrapidity to 200 or 300 fathoms. The depth immediately outside thebarrier, or encircling, reefs, may also be very considerable; but, atthe outer edge of a fringing reef, it does not amount usually to morethan twenty or twenty-five fathoms; in other words, from 120 to 150feet. 

Thus, if the water of the ocean could be suddenly drained away, weshould see the atolls rising from the sea-bed like vast truncatedcones, and resembling so many volcanic craters, except that theirsides would be steeper than those of an ordinary volcano. In the caseof the encircling reefs, the cone, with the enclosed island, wouldlook like Vesuvius with Monte Nuovo within the old crater of Somma;while, finally, the island with a fringing reef would have theappearance of an ordinary hill, or mountain, girded by a vast parapet, within which would lie a shallow moat. And the dry bed of the Pacificmight afford grounds for an inhabitant of the moon to speculateupon the extraordinary subterranean activity to which these vast andnumerous "craters" bore witness!

When the structure of a fringing reef is investigated, the bottom ofthe lagoon is found to be covered with fine whitish mud, which resultsfrom the breaking up of the dead corals. Upon this muddy floor therelie, here and there, growing corals, or occasionally great blocks ofdead coral, which have been torn by storms from the outer edge ofthe reef, and washed into the lagoon. Shell-fish and worms of variouskinds abound; and fish, some of which prey upon the coral, sport inthe deeper pools. But the corals which are to be seen growing in theshallow waters of the lagoon are of a different kind from those whichabound on the outer edge of the reef, and of which the reef is builtup. Close to the seaward edge of the reef, over which, even in calmweather, a surf almost always breaks, the coral rock is encrusted witha thick coat of a singular vegetable organism, which contains a greatdeal of lime--the so-called _Nullipora_. Beyond this, in the part ofthe edge of the reef which is always covered by the breaking waves, the living, true, reef--polypes make their appearance; and, indifferent forms, coat the steep seaward face of the reef to a depth of100 or even 150 feet. Beyond this depth the sounding-lead rests, notupon the wall-like face of the reef, but on the ordinary shelvingsea-bottom. And the distance to which a fringing reef extends from theland corresponds with that at which the sea has a depth of twenty orfive-and-twenty fathoms. 

If, as we have supposed, the sea could be suddenly withdrawn fromaround an island provided with a fringing reef, such as the Mauritius, the reef would present the aspect of a terrace, its seaward face, 100 feet or more high, blooming with the animal flowers of the coral, while its surface would be hollowed out into a shallow and irregularmoat-like excavation. 

The coral mud, which occupies the bottom of the lagoon, and with whichall the interstices of the coral skeletons which accumulate to formthe reef are filled up, does not proceed from the washing action ofthe waves alone; innumerable fishes, and other creatures which preyupon the coral, add a very important contribution of finely-trituratedcalcareous matter; and the corals and mud becoming incorporatedtogether, gradually harden and give rise to a sort of limestone rock, which may vary a good deal in texture. Sometimes it remains friableand chalky, but, more often, the infiltration of water, charged withcarbonic acid, dissolves some of the calcareous matter, and depositsit elsewhere in the interstices of the nascent rock, thus glueingand cementing the particles together into a hard mass; or it may evendissolve the carbonate of lime more extensively, and re-deposit it ina crystalline form. On the beach of the lagoon, where the coral sandis washed into layers by the action of the waves, its grains becomethus fused together into strata of a limestone, so hard that theyring when struck with a hammer, and inclined at a gentle angle, corresponding with that of the surface of the beach. The hard partsof the many animals which live upon the reef become imbedded in thiscoral limestone, so that a block may be full of shells of bivalves andunivalves, or of sea-urchins; and even sometimes encloses the eggs ofturtles in a state of petrifaction. The active and vigorous growth ofthe reef goes on only at the seaward margins, where the polypes areexposed to the wash of the surf, and are thereby provided with anabundant supply of air and of food. The interior portion of the reefmay be regarded as almost wholly an accumulation of dead skeletons. Where a river comes down from the land there is a break in the reef, for the reasons which have been already mentioned. 

The origin and mode of formation of a fringing reef, such as that justdescribed, are plain enough. The embryos of the coral polypes havefixed themselves upon the submerged shore of the island, as far out asthey could live, namely, to a depth of twenty or twenty-five fathoms. One generation has succeeded another, building itself up upon the deadskeletons of its predecessor. The mass has been consolidated bythe infiltration of coral mud, and hardened by partial solution andredeposition, until a great rampart of coral rock 100 or 150 feet highon its seaward face has been formed all round the island, with onlysuch gaps as result from the outflow of rivers, in the place ofsally-ports. 

The structure of the rocky accumulation in the encircling reefs andin the atolls is essentially the same as in the fringing reef. But, inaddition to the differences of depth inside and out, they presentsome other peculiarities. These reefs, and especially the atolls, areusually interrupted at one part of their circumference, and this partis always situated on the leeward side of the reef, or that which isthe more sheltered side. Now, as all these reefs are situated withinthe region in which the trade-winds prevail, it follows that, on thenorth side of the equator, where the trade-wind is a north-easterlywind, the opening of the reef is on the south-west side: while in thesouthern hemisphere, where the trade-winds blow from the south-east, the opening lies to the north-west. The curious practical resultfollows from this structure, that the lagoons of these reefs reallyform admirable harbours, if a ship can only get inside them. But themain difference between the encircling reefs and the atolls, on theone hand, and the fringing reefs on the other, lies in the fact of themuch greater depth of water on the seaward faces of the former. As aconsequence of this fact, the whole of this face is not, as it is inthe case of the fringing reef, covered with living coral polypes. For, as we have seen, these polypes cannot live at a greater depth thanabout twenty-five fathoms; and actual observation has shown thatwhile, down to this depth, the sounding-lead will bring up branches oflive coral from the outer wall of such a reef, at a greater depth itfetches to the surface nothing but dead coral and coral sand. We must, therefore, picture to ourselves an atoll, or an encircling reef, asfringed for 100 feet, or more, from its summit, with coral polypesbusily engaged in fabricating coral; while, below this comparativelynarrow belt, its surface is a bare and smooth expanse of coral sand, supported upon and within a core of coral limestone. Thus, if the bedof the Pacific were suddenly laid bare, as was just now supposed, theappearance of the reef-mountains would be exactly the reverse of thatpresented by many high mountains on land. For these are white withsnow at the top, while their bases are clothed with an abundant andgaudily-coloured vegetation. But the coral cones would look grey andbarren below, while their summits would be gay with a richly-colouredparterre of flower-like coral polypes. 

The practical difficulties of sounding upon, and of bringing upportions of, the seaward face of an atoll or of an encircling reef, are so great, in consequence of the constant and dangerous swell whichsets towards it, that no exact information concerning the depth towhich the reefs are composed of coral has yet been obtained. There isno reason to doubt, however, that the reef-cone has the same structurefrom its summit to its base, and that its sea-wall is throughoutmainly composed of dead coral. 

And now arises a serious difficulty. If the coral polypes cannot liveat a greater depth than 100 or 150 feet, how can they have built upthe base of the reef-cone, which may be 2, 000 feet, or more, below thesurface of the sea?

In order to get over this objection, it was at one time supposed thatthe reef-building polypes had settled upon the summits of a chainof submarine mountains. But what is there in physical geographyto justify the assumption of the existence of a chain of mountainsstretching for 1, 000 miles or more, and so nearly of the same height, that none should rise above the level of the sea, nor fall 150 feetbelow that level?

How again, on this hypothesis, are atolls to be accounted for, unless, as some have done, we take refuge in the wild supposition that everyatoll corresponds with the crater of a submarine volcano? And whatexplanation does it afford of the fact that, in some parts of theocean, only atolls and encircling reefs occur, while others presentnone but fringing reefs?

These and other puzzling facts remained insoluble until thepublication, in the year 1840, of Mr. Darwin's famous work oncoral reefs; in which a key was given to all the difficult problemsconnected with the subject, and every difficulty was shown to becapable of solution by deductive reasoning from a happy combination ofcertain well-established geological and biological truths. Mr. Darwin, in fact, showed, that so long as the level of the sea remainsunaltered in any area in which coral reefs are being formed, or if thelevel of the sea relatively to that of the land is falling, theonly reefs which can be formed are fringing reefs. While if, on thecontrary, the level of the sea is rising relatively to that of theland, at a rate not faster than that at which the upward growth ofthe coral can keep pace with it, the reef will gradually pass from thecondition of a fringing, into that of an encircling or barrier reef. And, finally, that if the relative level of the sea rise so much thatthe encircled land is completely submerged, the reef must necessarilypass into the condition of an atoll. 

For, suppose the relative level of the sea to remain stationary, aftera fringing reef has reached that distance from the land at whichthe depth of water amounts to 150 feet. Then the reef cannot extendseaward by the migration of coral germs, because these coral germswould find the bottom of the sea to be too deep for them to live in. And the only manner in which the reef could extend outwards, wouldbe by the gradual accumulation, at the foot of its seaward face, of atalus of coral fragments torn off by the violence of the waves, whichtalus might, in course of time, become high enough to bring its uppersurface within the limits of coral growth, and in that manner providea sort of factitious sea-bottom upon which the coral embryos mightperch. If, on the other hand, the level of the sea were slowly andgradually lowered, it is clear that the parts of its bottom originallybeyond the limit of coral growth, would gradually be brought withinthe required distance of the surface, and thus the reef might beindefinitely extended. But this process would give rise neither to anencircling reef nor to an atoll, but to a broad belt of upheavedcoral rock, increasing the dimensions of the dry land, and continuousseawards with the fresh fringing reef. 

Suppose, however, that the sea-level rose instead of falling, at thesame slow and gradual rate at which we know it to be rising in someparts of the world--not more, in fact, than a few inches, or, atmost, a foot or two, in a hundred years. Then, while the reef wouldbe unable to extend itself seaward, the sea-bottom outside it beinggradually more and more removed from the depth at which the life ofthe coral polypes is possible, it would be able to grow upwardsas fast as the sea rose. But the growth would take place almostexclusively around the circumference of the reef, this being the onlyregion in which the coral polypes would find the conditions favourablefor their existence. The bottom of the lagoon would be raised, in themain, only by the coral _débris_ and coral mud, formed in the manneralready described; consequently, the margins of the reef wouldrise faster than the bottom, or, in other words, the lagoon wouldconstantly become deeper. And, at the same time, it would graduallyincrease in breadth; as the rising sea, covering more and more of theland, would occupy a wider space between the edge of the reef and whatremained of the land. Thus the rising sea would eventually convert alarge island with a fringing reef, into a small island surrounded byan encircling reef. And it will be obvious that when the rising of thesea has gone so far as completely to cover the highest points of theisland, the reef will have passed into the condition of an atoll. 

But how is it possible that the relative level of the land and seashould be altered to this extent? Clearly, only in one of two ways:either the sea must have risen over those areas which are now coveredby atolls and encircling reefs; or, the land upon which the sea restsmust have been depressed to a corresponding extent. 

If the sea has risen, its rise must have taken place over the wholeworld simultaneously, and it must have risen to the same height overall parts of the coral zone. Grounds have been shown for the beliefthat the general level of the sea may have been different at differenttimes; it has been suggested, for example, that the accumulation ofice about the poles during one of the cold periods of the earth'shistory, necessarily implies a diminution in the volume of the seaproportioned to the amount of its water thus permanently locked up inthe Arctic and Antarctic ice-cellars; while, in the warm periods, the greater or less disappearance of the polar ice-cap implies acorresponding addition of water to the ocean. And no doubt thisreasoning must be admitted to be sound in principle; though it is veryhard to say what practical effect the additions and subtractions thusmade have had on the level of the ocean; inasmuch as such additionsand subtractions might be either intensified or nullified, bycontemporaneous changes in the level of the land. And no one has yetshown that any such great melting of polar ice, and consequent raisingof the level of the water of the ocean, has taken place since theexisting atolls began to be formed. 

In the absence of any evidence that the sea has ever risen to theextent required to give rise to the encircling reefs and the atolls, Mr. Darwin adopted the opposite hypothesis, viz. That the land hasundergone extensive and slow depression in those localities in whichthese structures exist. 

It seems, at first, a startling paradox, to suppose that the landis less fixed than the sea; but that such is the case is the uniformtestimony of geology. Beds of sandstone or limestone, thousands offeet thick, and all full of marine remains, occur in various parts ofthe earth's surface, and prove, beyond a doubt, that when these bedswere formed, that portion of the sea-bottom which they then occupiedunderwent a slow and gradual depression to a distance which cannothave been less than the thickness of those beds, and may have beenvery much greater. In supposing, therefore, that the great areas ofthe Pacific and of the Indian Ocean, over which atolls and encirclingreefs are found scattered, have undergone a depression of somehundreds, or, it may be, thousands of feet, Mr. Darwin made asupposition which had nothing forced or improbable, but was entirelyin accordance with what we know to have taken place over similarlyextensive areas, in other periods of the world's history. But Mr. Darwin subjected his hypothesis to an ingenious indirect test. Ifhis view be correct, it is clear that neither atolls, nor encirclingreefs, should be found in those portions of the ocean in which we havereason to believe, on independent grounds, that the sea-bottom haslong been either stationary, or slowly rising. Now it is known that, as a general rule, the level of the land is either stationary, or isundergoing a slow upheaval, in the neighbourhood of active volcanoes;and, therefore, neither atolls nor encircling reefs ought to be foundin regions in which volcanoes are numerous and active. And this turnsout to be the case. Appended to Mr. Darwin's great work on coralreefs, there is a map on which atolls and encircling reefs areindicated by one colour, fringing reefs by another, and activevolcanoes by a third. And it is at once obvious that the lines ofactive volcanoes lie around the margins of the areas occupied by theatolls and the encircling reefs. It is exactly as if the upheavingvolcanic agencies had lifted up the edges of these great areas, whiletheir centres had undergone a corresponding depression. An atoll areamay, in short, be pictured as a kind of basin, the margins of whichhave been pushed up by the subterranean forces, to which the cratersof the volcanoes have, at intervals, given vent. 

Thus we must imagine the area of the Pacific now covered by thePolynesian Archipelago, as having been, at some former time, occupied by large islands, or, may be, by a great continent, with theordinarily diversified surface of plain, and hill, and mountain chain. The shores of this great land were doubtless fringed by coral reefs;and, as it slowly underwent depression, the hilly regions, convertedinto islands, became, at first, surrounded by fringing reefs, andthen, as depression went on, these became converted into encirclingreefs, and these, finally, into atolls, until a maze of reefs andcoral-girdled islets took the place of the original land masses. 

Thus the atolls and the encircling reefs furnish us with clear, thoughindirect, evidence of changes in the physical geography of large partsof the earth's surface; and even, as my lamented friend, the lateProfessor Jukes, has suggested, give us indications of the manner inwhich some of the most puzzling facts connected with the distributionof animals have been brought about. For example, Australia and NewGuinea are separated by Torres Straits, a broad belt of sea 100 or120 miles wide. Nevertheless, there is in many respects a curiousresemblance between the land animals which inhabit New Guinea andthe land animals which inhabit Australia. But, at the same time, themarine shell-fish which are found in the shallow waters of the shoresof New Guinea, are quite different from those which are met with uponthe coasts of Australia. Now, the eastern end of Torres Straits isfull of atolls, which, in fact, form the northern termination of theGreat Barrier Reef which skirts the eastern coast of Australia. Itfollows, therefore, that the eastern end of Torres Straits is an areaof depression, and it is very possible, and on many grounds highlyprobable, that, in former times, Australia and New Guinea weredirectly connected together, and that Torres Straits did not exist. If this were the case, the existence of cassowaries and of marsupialquadrupeds, both in New Guinea and in Australia, becomes intelligible;while the difference between the littoral molluscs of the north andthe south shores of Torres Straits is readily explained by the greatprobability that, when the depression in question took place, andwhat was, at first, an arm of the sea became converted into a straitseparating Australia from New Guinea, the northern shore of this newsea became tenanted with marine animals from the north, while thesouthern shore was peopled by immigrants from the already existingmarine Australian fauna. 

Inasmuch as the growth of the reef depends upon that of successivegenerations of coral polypes, and as each generation takes a certaintime to grow to its full size, and can only separate its calcareousskeleton from the water in which it lives at a certain rate, it isclear that the reefs are records not only of changes in physicalgeography, but of the lapse of time. It is by no means easy, however, to estimate the exact value of reef-chronology, and the attempts whichhave been made to determine the rate at which a reef grows vertically, have yielded anything but precise results. A cautious writer, Mr. Dana, whose extensive study of corals and coral reefs makes him aneminently competent judge, states his conclusion in the followingterms:--

 "The rate of growth of the common branching madrepore is not over one and a half inches a year. As the branches are open, this would not be equivalent to more than half an inch in height of solid coral for the whole surface covered by the madrepore; and, as they are also porous, to not over three-eighths of an inch of solid limestone. But a coral plantation has large bare patches without corals, and the coral sands are widely distributed by currents, part of them to depths over one hundred feet where there are no living corals; not more than one-sixth of the surface of a reef region is, in fact, covered with growing species. This reduces the three-eighths to _one-sixteenth_. Shells and other organic relics may contribute one-fourth as much as corals. At the outside, the average upward increase of the whole reef-ground per year would not exceed _one-eighth_ of an inch. 

 "Now some reefs are at least two thousand feet thick, which at one-eighth of an inch a year, corresponds to one hundred and ninety-two thousand years. "[1]

[Footnote 1: Dana, "Manual of Geology, " p. 591. ]

Halve, or quarter, this estimate if you will, in order to be certainof erring upon the right side, and still there remains a prodigiousperiod during which the ancestors of the existing coral polypes havebeen undisturbedly at work; and during which, therefore, the climatalconditions over the coral area must have been much what they are now. 

And all this lapse of time has occurred within the most recent periodof the history of the earth. The remains of reefs formed by coralpolypes of different kinds from those which exist now, enter largelyinto the composition of the limestones of the Jurassic period; andstill more widely different coral polypes have contributed their quotato the vast thickness of the carboniferous and Devonian strata. Thenas regards the latter group of rocks in America, the high authorityalready quoted tells us:--

 "The Upper Helderberg period is eminently the coral reef period of the palaeozoic ages. Many of the rocks abound in coral, and are as truly coral reefs as the modern reefs of the Pacific. The corals are sometimes standing on the rocks in the position they had when growing: others are lying in fragments, as they were broken and heaped by the waves; and others were reduced to a compact limestone by the finer trituration before consolidation into rock. This compact variety is the most common kind among the coral reef rocks of the present seas; and it often contains but few distinct fossils, although formed in water that abounded in life. At the fall of the Ohio, near Louisville, there is a magnificent display of the old reef. Hemispherical _Favosites_, five or six feet in diameter, lie there nearly as perfect as when they were covered by their flower-like polypes; and besides these, there are various branching corals, and a profusion of _Cyathophiyllia_, or cup-corals. "[1]

[Footnote 1: Dana, "Manual of Geology, " p. 272. ]

Thus, in all the great periods of the earth's history of which weknow anything, a part of the then living matter has had the form ofpolypes, competent to separate from the water of the sea the carbonateof lime necessary for their own skeletons. Grain by grain, andparticle by particle, they have built up vast masses of rock, thethickness of which is measured by hundreds of feet, and their area bythousands of square miles. The slow oscillations of the crust of theearth, producing great changes in the distribution of land and water, have often obliged the living matter of the coral-builders to shiftthe locality of its operations; and, by variation and adaptation tothese modifications of condition, its forms have as often changed. Thework it has done in the past is, for the most part, swept away, butfragments remain; and, if there were no other evidence, suffice toprove the general constancy of the operations of Nature in this world, through periods of almost inconceivable duration. 

VII. 

ON THE METHODS AND RESULTS OF ETHNOLOGY. 

Ethonology is the science which determines the distinctive charactersof the persistent modifications of mankind; which ascertains thedistribution of those modifications in present and past times, andseeks to discover the causes, or conditions of existence, both ofthe modifications and of their distribution. I say "persistent"modifications, because, unless incidentally, ethnology has nothing todo with chance and transitory peculiarities of human structure. AndI speak of "persistent modifications" or "stocks" rather than of"varieties, " or "races, " or "species, " because each of these lastwell-known terms implies, on the part of its employer, a preconceivedopinion touching one of those problems, the solution of which is theultimate object of the science; and in regard to which, therefore, ethnologists are especially bound to keep their minds open and theirjudgments freely balanced. 

Ethnology, as thus defined, is a branch of anthropology, the greatscience which unravels the complexities of human structure; traces outthe relations of man to other animals; studies all that is especiallyhuman in the mode in which man's complex functions are performed; andsearches after the conditions which have determined his presence inthe world. And anthropology is a section of zoology, which again isthe animal half of biology--the science of life and living things. 

Such is the position of ethnology, such are the objects of theethnologist. The paths or methods, by following which he may hope toreach his goal, are diverse. He may work at man from the point ofview of the pure zoologist, and investigate the anatomical andphysiological peculiarities of Negroes, Australians, or Mongolians, just as he would inquire into those of pointers, terriers, andturnspits, --"persistent modifications" of man's almost universalcompanion. Or he may seek aid from researches into the most humanmanifestation of humanity--language; and assuming that what is true ofspeech is true of the speaker--a hypothesis as questionable in scienceas it is in ordinary life--he may apply to mankind themselves theconclusions drawn from a searching analysis of their words andgrammatical forms. 

Or, the ethnologist may turn to the study of the practical lifeof men; and relying upon the inherent conservatism and smallinventiveness of untutored mankind, he may hope to discover in mannersand customs, or in weapons, dwellings, and other handiwork, a clue tothe origin of the resemblances and differences of nations. Or, he mayresort to that kind of evidence which is yielded by history proper, and consists of the beliefs of men concerning past events, embodiedin traditional, or in written, testimony. Or, when that thread breaks, archaeology, which is the interpretation of the unrecorded remains ofman's works, belonging to the epoch since the world has reached itspresent condition, may still guide him. And, when even the dim lightof archaeology fades, there yet remains paleontology, which, in theselatter years, has brought to daylight once more the exuvia of ancientpopulations, whose world was not our world, who have been buried inriver beds immemorially dry, or carried by the rush of waters intocaves, inaccessible to inundation since the dawn of tradition. 

Along each, or all, of these paths the ethnologist may press towardshis goal; but they are not equally straight, or sure, or easy totread. The way of palaeontology has but just been laid open to us. Archaeological and historical investigations are of great value forall those peoples whose ancient state has differed widely from theirpresent condition, and who have the good or evil fortune to possess ahistory. But on taking a broad survey of the world, it is astonishinghow few nations present either condition. Respecting five-sixths ofthe persistent modifications of mankind, history and archaeology areabsolutely silent. For half the rest, they might as well be silent foranything that is to be made of their testimony. And, finally, when thequestion arises as to what was the condition of mankind more than apaltry two or three thousand years ago, history and archaeology are, for the most part, mere dumb dogs. What light does either of thesebranches of knowledge throw on the past of the man of the New World, if we except the Central Americans and the Peruvians; on that of theAfricans, save those of the valley of the Nile and a fringe of theMediterranean; on that of all the Polynesian, Australian, and centralAsiatic peoples, the former of whom probably, and the last certainly, were, at the dawn of history, substantially what they are now? Whilethankfully accepting what history has to give him, therefore, theethnologist must not look for too much from her. 

Is more to be expected from inquiries into the customs and handicraftsof men? It is to be feared not. In reasoning from identity of customto identity of stock the difficulty always obtrudes itself, thatthe minds of men being everywhere similar, differing in quality andquantity but not in kind of faculty, like circumstances must tend toproduce like contrivances; at any rate, so long as the need to bemet and conquered is of a very simple kind. That two nations usecalabashes or shells for drinking-vessels, or that they employspears, or clubs, or swords and axes of stone and metal as weapons andimplements, cannot be regarded as evidence that these two nationshad a common origin, or even that intercommunication ever took placebetween them; seeing that the convenience of using calabashes orshells for such purposes, and the advantage of poking an enemy with asharp stick, or hitting him with a heavy one, must be early forcedby nature upon the mind of even the stupidest savage. And when he hadfound out the use of a stick, he would need no prompting to discoverthe value of a chipped or wetted stone, or an angular piece of nativemetal, for the same object. On the other hand, it may be doubtedwhether the chances are not greatly against independent peoplesarriving at the manufacture of a boomerang, or of a bow; which last, if one comes to think of it, is a rather complicated apparatus; andthe tracing of the distribution of inventions as complex as these, and of such strange customs as betel-chewing and tobacco-smoking, mayafford valuable ethnological hints. 

Since the time of Leibnitz, and guided by such men as Humboldt, AbelRemusat, and Klaproth, Philology has taken far higher ground. ThusPrichard affirms that "the history of nations, termed Ethnology, mustbe mainly founded on the relations of their languages. "

An eminent living philologer, August Schleicher, in a recent essay, puts forward the claims of his science still more forcibly:--

 "If, however, language is the human [Greek: kat ezochhên], the suggestion arises whether it should not form the basis of any scientific systematic arrangement of mankind; whether the foundation of the natural classification of the genus Homo has not been discovered in it. 

 "How little constant are cranial peculiarities and other so-called race characters! Language, on the other hand, is always a perfectly constant diagnostic. A German may occasionally compete in hair and prognathism with a negro, but a negro language will never be his mother tongue. Of how little importance for mankind the so-called race characters are, is shown by the fact that speakers of languages belonging to one and the same linguistic family may exhibit the peculiarities of various races. Thus the settled Osmanli Turk exhibits Caucasian characters, while other so-called Tartaric Turks exemplify the Mongol type. On the other hand, the Magyar and the Basque do not depart in any essential physical peculiarity from the Indo-Germans, whilst the Magyar, Basque, and Indo-Germanic tongues are widely different. Apart from their inconstancy, again, the so-called race characters can hardly yield a scientifically natural system. Languages, on the other hand, readily fall into a natural arrangement, like that of which other vital products are susceptible, especially when viewed from their morphological side.... The externally visible structure of the cerebral and facial skeletons, and of the body generally, is less important than that no less material but infinitely more delicate corporeal structure, the function of which is speech. I conceive, therefore, that the natural classification of languages is also the natural classification of mankind. With language, moreover, all the higher manifestations of man's vital activity are closely interwoven, so that these receive due recognition in and by that of speech. "[1]

[Footnote 1: August Schleicher. Ueber die Bedeutung der Sprache fürdie Naturgeschichte des Menschen, pp. 16-18. Weimar, 1858. ]

Without the least desire to depreciate the value of philology asan adjuvant to ethnology, I must venture to doubt, with Rudolphi, Desmoulins, Crawfurd, and others, its title to the leading positionclaimed for it by the writers whom I have just quoted. On thecontrary, it seems to me obvious that, though, in the absence of anyevidence to the contrary, unity of languages may afford a certainpresumption in favour of the unity of stock of the peoples speakingthose languages, it cannot be held to prove that unity of stock, unless philologers are prepared to demonstrate, that no nation canlose its language and acquire that of a distinct nation, without achange of blood corresponding with the change of language. Desmoulinslong ago put this argument exceedingly well:--

 "Let us imagine the recurrence of one of those slow, or sudden, political revolutions, or say of those secular changes which among different people and at different epochs have annihilated historical monuments and even extinguished tradition. In that case, the evidence, now so clear, that the negroes of Hayti were slaves imported by a French colony, who, by the very effect of the subordination involved in slavery, lost their own diverse languages and adopted that of their masters, would vanish. And metaphysical philosophers, observing the identity of Haytian French with that spoken on the shores of the Seine and the Loire, would argue that the men of St. Domingo with woolly heads, black and oily skins, small calves, and slightly bent knees, are of the same race, descended from the same parental stock, as the Frenchmen with silky brown, chestnut, or fair hair, and white skins. For they would say, their languages are more similar than French is to German or Spanish. "[1]

[Footnote 1: Desmoulins, "Histoire Naturelle des Races Humaines, " p. 345. 1826. ]

It must not be imagined that the case put by Desmoulins is a merelyhypothetical one. Events precisely similar to the transport of a bodyof Africans to the West India Islands, indeed, cannot have happenedamong uncivilized races, but similar results have followed theimportation of bodies of conquerors among an enslaved people over andover again. There is hardly a country in Europe in which two or morenations speaking widely different tongues have not become intermixed;and there is hardly a language of Europe of which we have any rightto think that its structure affords a just indication of the amount ofthat intermixture. 

As Dr. Latham has well said:--

 "It is certain that the language of England is of Anglo-Saxon origin, and that the remains of the original Keltic are unimportant. It is by no means so certain that the blood of Englishmen is equally Germanic. A vast amount of Kelticism, not found in our tongue, very probably exists in our pedigrees. The ethnology of France is still more complicated. Many writers make the Parisian a Roman on the strength of his language; whilst others make him a Kelt on the strength of certain moral characteristics, combined with the previous Kelticism of the original Gauls. Spanish and Portuguese, as languages, are derivations from the Latin; Spain and Portugal, as countries, are Iberic, Latin, Gothic, and Arab, in different proportions. Italian is modern Latin all the world over; yet surely there must be much Keltic blood in Lombardy, and much Etruscan intermixture in Tuscany. 

 "In the ninth century every man between the Elbe and the Niemen spoke some Slavonic dialect; they now nearly all speak German. Surely the blood is less exclusively Gothic than the speech. "[1]

[Footnote 1: Latham, "Man and his Migrations, " p. 171. ]

In other words, what philologer, if he had nothing but the vocabularyand grammar of the French and English languages to guide him, woulddream of the real causes of the unlikeness of a Norman to a Provençal, of an Orcadian to a Cornishman? How readily might he be led to supposethat the different climatal conditions to which these speakers ofone tongue have so long been exposed, have caused their physicaldifferences; and how little would he suspect that these are due (as wehappen to know they are) to wide differences of blood. 

Few take duly into account the evidence which exists as to theease with which unlettered savages gain or lose a language. CaptainErskine, in his interesting "Journal of a Cruise among the Islands ofthe Western Pacific, " especially remarks upon the "avidity withwhich the inhabitants of the polyglot islands of Melanesia, from NewCaledonia to the Solomon Islands, adopt the improvements of a moreperfect language than their own, which different causes and accidentalcommunication still continue to bring to them;" and he adds that"among the Melanesian islands scarcely one was found by us which didnot possess, in some cases still imperfectly, the decimal system ofnumeration in addition to their own, in which they reckon only tofive. "

Yet how much philological reasoning in favour of the affinityor diversity of two distinct peoples has been based on the merecomparison of numerals!

But the most instructive example of the fallacy which may attach tomerely philological reasonings, is that afforded by the Feejeans, whoare, physically, so intimately connected with the adjacent Negritos ofNew Caledonia, &c. , that no one can doubt to what stock they belong, and who yet, in the form and substance of their language, arePolynesian. The case is as remarkable as if the Canary Islands shouldhave been found to be inhabited by negroes speaking Arabic, or someother clearly Semitic dialect, as their mother tongue. As it happens, the physical peculiarities of the Feejeans are so striking, andthe conditions under which they live are so similar to those of thePolynesians, that no one has ventured to suggest that they are merelymodified Polynesians--a suggestion which could otherwise certainlyhave been made. But if languages may be thus transferred from onestock to another, without any corresponding intermixture of blood, what ethnological value has philology?--what security does unity oflanguage afford us that the speakers of that language may not havesprung from two, or three, or a dozen, distinct sources?

Thus we come, at last, to the purely zoological method, from whichit is not unnatural to expect more than from any other, seeing that, after all, the problems of ethnology are simply those which arepresented to the zoologist by every widely distributed animal hestudies. The father of modern zoology seems to have had no doubt uponthis point. At the twenty-eighth page of the standard twelfth editionof the "Systema Naturae, " in fact, we find:--

I. PRIMATES. 

_Dentes primores incisores: superiores IV. Paralleli, mammaepectorales II. _

1. HOMO. Nosce te ipsum. Sapiens. 1. H. Diurnus: _varians cultura, loco. __Ferus_. Tetrapus, mutus, hirsutus. 

 * * * * *

_Americanus_ [Greek: a]. Rufus, cholericus, rectus--_Pilis_ nigris, rectis, crassis--_Naribus_ patulis--_Facie_ ephelitica: _Mento_ subimberbi. _Pertinax_, contentus, liber. _Pingit_ se lineis daedaleis rubris. _Regitur_ Consuetudine. 

_Europaeus_ [Greek: b]. Albus sauguineus torosus. _Pilis_ flavescentibus, prolixis. _Oculis_ caeruleis. _Levis_, argutus, inventor. _Tegitur_ Vestimentis arctis. _Regitur_ Ritibus. 

_Asiaticus_ [Greek: g]. Luridus, melancholicus, rigidus. _Pilis_ nigricantibus. _Oculis_ fuscis. _Severus_, fastuosus, avarus. _Tegitur_ Indumentis laxis. _Regitur_ Opinionibus. 

_Afer_ [Greek: d]. Niger, phlegmaticus, laxus. _Pilis_ atris, contortuplicatis. _Cute_ holosericea. _Naso_ simo. _Labiis_ tumidis. _Feminis_ sinus pudoris. _Mammae_ lactantes prolixae. _Vafer_, segnis, negligens. _Ungit_ se pingui. _Regitur_ Arbitrio. 

_Monstrosus_ [Greek: e]. Solo (a) et arte (b c) variat. : a. _Alpini_ parvi, agiles, timidi. _Patagonici_ magni, segnes. B. _Monorchides_ ut minus fertiles: Hottentotti. _Junceae_ puellae, abdomine attenuato: Europoeae. C. _Macrocephali_ capiti conico: Chinenses. _Plagiocephali_ capite antice compresso: Canadenses. 

Turn a few pages further on in the same volume, and there appears, with a fine impartiality in the distribution of capitals andsub-divisional headings:--

III. FERAE. 

_Dentes primores superiores sex, acutiusculi. Canini solitarii. _

 * * * * *

12. CANIS. _Dentes primores_ superiores VI. : laterales longiores distantes: intermedii lobati. Inferiores VI. : laterales lobati. _Laniarii_ solitarii, incurvati. Molares VI. S. VII. (pluresve quam in reliquis). 

_familiaris_ [Greek: i]. C. Cauda (sinistrorsum) recurvata.... 

_domesticus_ [Greek: a]. Auriculis erectis, cauda subtus lanata. 

_sagax_ [Greek: b]. Auriculis pendulis, digito spurio ad tibias posticas. 

_grajus_ [Greek: g]. Magnitudine lupi, trunco curvato, rostro attenuato, &c. &c. 

Linnaeus' definition of what he considers to be mere varieties ofthe species Man are, it will be observed, as completely free fromany allusion to linguistic peculiarities as those brief and pregnantsentences in which he sketches the characters of the varieties ofthe species Dog. "Pilis nigris, naribus patulis" may be set against"auriculis erectis, cauda subtus lanata;" while the remarks on themorals and manners of the human subject seem as if they were thrown inmerely by way of makeweight. 

Buffon, Blumenbach (the founder of ethnology as a special science), Rudolphi, Bory de St. Vincent, Desmoulins, Cuvier, Retzius, indeed Imay say all the naturalists proper, have dealt with man from a noless completely zoological point of view; while, as might have beenexpected, those who have been least naturalists, and most linguists, have most neglected the zoological method, the neglect culminating inthose who have been altogether devoid of acquaintance with anatomy. 

Prichard's proposition, that language is more persistent than physicalcharacters, is one which has never been proved, and indeed admits ofno proof, seeing that the records of language do not extend so faras those of physical characters. But, until the superior tenacityof linguistic over physical peculiarities is shown, and until theabundant evidence which exists, that the language of a people maychange without corresponding physical change in that people, is shownto be valueless, it is plain that the zoological court of appealis the highest for the ethnologist, and that no evidence can be setagainst that derived from physical characters. 

What, then, will a new survey of mankind from the Linnaean point ofview teach us?

The great antipodal block of land we call Australia has, speakingroughly, the form of a vast quadrangle, 2, 000 miles on the side, andextends from the hottest tropical, to the middle of the temperate, zone. Setting aside the foreign colonists introduced within thelast century, it is inhabited by people no less remarkable for theuniformity, than for the singularity, of their physical characters andsocial state. For the most part of fair stature, erect and well built, except for an unusual slenderness of the lower limbs, the AUSTRALIANShave dark, usually chocolate-coloured skins; fine dark wavy hair; darkeyes, overhung by beetle brows; coarse, projecting jaws; broad anddilated, but not especially flattened, noses; and lips which, thoughprominent, are eminently flexible. 

The skulls of these people are always long and narrow, with a smallerdevelopment of the frontal sinuses than usually corresponds with suchlargely developed brow ridges. An Australian skull of a round form, or one the transverse diameter of which exceeds eight-tenths of itslength, has never been seen. These people, in a word, are eminently"dolichocephalic, " or long-headed; but, with this one limitation, their crania present considerable variations, some being comparativelyhigh and arched, while others are more remarkably depressed thanalmost any other human skulls. 

The female pelvis differs comparatively little from the European;but in the pelves of male Australians which I have examined, theantero-posterior and transverse diameters approach equality morenearly than is the case in Europeans. 

No Australian tribe has ever been known to cultivate the ground, to use metals, pottery, or any kind of textile fabric. They rarelyconstruct huts. Their means of navigation are limited to rafts orcanoes, made of sheets of bark. Clothing, except skin cloaks forprotection from cold, is a superfluity with which they dispense; andthough they have some singular weapons, almost peculiar to themselves, they are wholly unacquainted with bows and arrows. 

It is but a step, as it were, across Bass's Straits to Tasmania. Neither climate nor the characteristic forms of vegetable or animallife change largely on the south side of the Straits, but the earlyvoyagers found Man singularly different from him on the north side. The skin of the Tasmanian was dark, though he lived between parallelsof latitude corresponding with those of middle Europe in our ownhemisphere; his jaws projected, his head was long and narrow; hiscivilization was about on a footing with that of the Australian, ifnot lower, for I cannot discover that the Tasmanian understood theuse of the throwing-stick. But he differed from the Australian in hiswoolly, negro-like hair, whence the name of NEGRITO, which has beenapplied to him and his congeners. 

Such Negritos--differing more or less from the Tasmanian, but agreeingwith him in dark skin and woolly hair--occupy New Caledonia, the NewHebrides, the Louisiade Archipelago; and stretching to the PapuanIslands, and for a doubtful extent beyond them to the north andwest, form a sort of belt, or zone, of Negrito population, interposedbetween the Australians on the west and the inhabitants of the greatmajority of the Pacific islands on the east. 

The cranial characters of the Negritos vary considerably more thanthose of their skin and hair, the most notable circumstance beingthe strong Australian aspect which distinguishes many Negrito skulls, while others tend rather towards forms common in the Polynesianislands. 

In civilization, New Caledonia exhibits an advance upon Tasmania, and, farther north, there is a still greater improvement. But the bowsand arrows, the perched houses, the outrigger canoes, the habits ofbetel-chewing and of kawa-drinking, which abound more or less amongthe northern Negritos, are probably to be regarded not as the productsof an indigenous civilization, but merely as indications of the extentto which foreign influences have modified the primitive social stateof these people. 

From Tasmania or New Caledonia, to New Zealand or Tongataboo, is againbut a brief voyage; but it brings about a still more notable changein the aspect of the indigenous population than that effected by thepassage of Bass's Straits. Instead of being chocolate-coloured people, the Maories and Tongans are light brown; instead of woolly, they havestraight, or wavy, black hair. And if from New Zealand, we travelsome 5, 000 miles east to Easter Island; and from Easter Island, for asgreat a distance north-west, to the Sandwich Islands; and thence 7, 000miles, westward and southward, to Sumatra; and even across the IndianOcean, into the interior of Madagascar, we shall everywhere meet withpeople whose hair is straight or wavy, and whose skins exhibit variousshades of brown. These are the Polynesians, Micronesians, Indonesians, whom Latham has grouped together under the common title ofAMPHINESIANS. 

The cranial characters of these people, as of the Negritos, are lessconstant than those of their skin and hair. The Maori has a longskull; the Sandwich Islander a broad skull. Some, like these, havestrong brow ridges; others, like the Dayaks and many Polynesians, havehardly any nasal indentation. 

It is only in the westernmost parts of their area that the Amphinesiannations know anything about bows and arrows as weapons, or areacquainted with the use of metals or with pottery. Everywhere theycultivate the ground, construct houses, and skilfully build and manageoutrigger, or double, canoes; while, almost everywhere, they use somekind of fabric for clothing. 

Between Easter Island, or the Sandwich Islands, and any part of theAmerican coast is a much wider interval than that between Tasmania andNew Zealand, but the ethnological interval between the American andthe Polynesian is less than that between either of the previouslynamed stocks. 

The typical AMERICAN has straight black hair and dark eyes, his skinexhibiting various shades of reddish or yellowish brown, sometimesinclining to olive. The face is broad and scantily bearded; the skullwide and high. Such people extend from Patagonia to Mexico, and muchfarther north along the west coast. In the main a race of hunters, they had nevertheless, at the time of the discovery of the Americas, attained a remarkable degree of civilization in some localities. Theyhad domesticated ruminants, and not only practised agriculture, but had learned the value of irrigation. They manufactured textilefabrics, were masters of the potter's art, and knew how to erectmassive buildings of stone. They understood the working of theprecious, though not of the useful, metals; and had even attained to arude kind of hieroglyphic, or picture, writing. 

The Americans not only employ the bow and arrow, but, like someAmphinesians, the blow-pipe, as offensive weapons: but I am not awarethat the outrigger canoe has ever been observed among them. 

I have reason to suspect that some of the Fuegian tribes differcranially from the typical Americans; and the Northern and EasternAmerican tribes have longer skulls than their Southern compatriots. But the ESQUIMAUX, who roam on the desolate and ice-bound coasts ofArctic America, certainly present us with a new stock. The Esquimaux(among whom the Greenlanders are included), in fact, though theyshare the straight black hair of the proper Americans, are a dullercomplexioned, shorter, and more squat people, and they have stillmore prominent cheek-bones. But the circumstance which most completelyseparates them from the typical Americans, is the form of theirskulls, which instead of being broad, high, and truncated behind, areeminently long, usually low, and prolonged backwards. 

These Hyperborean people clothe themselves in skins, know nothing ofpottery, and hardly anything of metals. Dependent for existence uponthe produce of the chase, the seal and the whale are to them whatthe cocoa-nut tree and the plantain are to the savages of more genialclimates. Not only are those animals meat and raiment, but they arecanoes, sledges, weapons, tools, windows, and fire; while they supportthe dog, who is the indispensable ally and beast of burden of theEsquimaux. 

It is admitted that the Tchuktchi, on the eastern side of Behring'sStraits, are, in all essential respects, Esquimaux; and I do not knowthat there is any satisfactory evidence to show that the Tunguses andSamoiedes do not essentially share the physical characters of the samepeople. Southward, there are indications of Esquimaux characters amongthe Japanese, and it is possible that their influence may be tracedyet further. 

However this may be, Eastern Asia, from Mantchouria to Siam, Thibet, and Northern Hindostan, is continuously inhabited by men, usually ofshort stature, with skins varying in colour from yellow to olive; withbroad cheek-bones and faces that, owing to the insignificance of thenose, are exceedingly flat; and with small, obliquely-set, black eyesand straight black hair, which sometimes attains a very great lengthupon the scalp, but is always scanty upon the face and body. Theskull is never much elongated, and is, generally, remarkably broadand rounded, with hardly any nasal depression, and but slight, if any, projection of the jaws. 

Many of these people, for whom the old name of MONGOLIANS may beretained, are nomades; others, as the Chinese, have attained aremarkable and apparently indigenous civilization, only surpassed bythat of Europe. 

At the north-western extremity of Europe the Lapps repeat thecharacters of the Eastern Asiatics. Between these extreme points, theMongolian stock is not continuous, but is represented by a chain ofmore or less isolated tribes, who pass under the name of Calmucks andTartars, and form Mongolian islands, as it were, in the midst of anocean of other people. 

The waves of this ocean are the nations for whom, in orderto avoid the endless confusion produced by our presenthalf-physical, half-philological classification, I shall use a newname--XANTHOCHROI--indicating that they are "yellow" haired and "pale"in complexion. The Chinese historians of the Han dynasty, writingin the third century before our era, describe, with much minuteness, certain numerous and powerful barbarians with "yellow hair, greeneyes, and prominent noses, " who, the black-haired, skew-eyed, andflat-nosed annalists remark in passing, are "just like the apes fromwhom they are descended. " These people held, in force, the upperwaters of the Yenisei, and thence under various names stretchedsouthward to Thibet and Kashgar. Fair-haired and blue-eyed northernenemies were no less known to the ancient Hindoos, to the Persians, and to the Egyptians, on the south of the great central Asiatic area;while the testimony of all European antiquity is to the effect that, before and since the period in question, there lay beyond the Danube, the Rhine, and the Seine, a vast and dangerous yellow or red haired, fair-skinned, blue-eyed population. Whether the disturbers of themarches of the Roman Empire were called Gauls or Germans, Goths, Alans, or Scythians, one thing seems certain, that until the invasionof the Huns, they were tall, fair, blue-eyed men. 

If any one should think fit to assume that in the year 100 B. C. , there was one continuous Xanthochroic population from the Rhine to theYenisei, and from the Ural mountains to the Hindoo Koosh, I know notthat any evidence exists by which that position could be upset, whilethe existing state of things is rather in its favour than otherwise. For the Scandinavians, wholly, the Germans to a great extent, theSlavonian and the Finnish tribes, some of the inhabitants of Greece, many Turks, some Kirghis, and some Mantchous, the Ossetes in theCaucasus, the Siahposh, the Rohillas, are at the present day fair, yellow or red haired, and blue-eyed; and the interpolation of tribesof Mongolian hair and complexion, as far west as the Caspian Steppesand the Crimea, might justly be accounted for by those subsequentwestward irruptions of the Mongolian stock, of which history furnishesabundant testimony. 

The furthermost limit of the Xanthochroi north-westward is Icelandand the British Isles; south-westward, they are traceable at intervalsthrough the Berber country, and end in the Canary Islands. 

The cranial characters of the Xanthochroi are not, at present, strictly definable. The Scandinavians are certainly long-headed; butmany Germans, the Swiss so far as they are Germanized, the Slavonians, the Fins, and the Turks, are short-headed. What were the cranialcharacters of the ancient "U-suns" and "Ting-lings" of the valley ofthe Yenisei is unknown. 

West of the area occupied by the chief mass of the Xanthochroi, andnorth of the Sahara, is a broad belt of land, shaped like a =Y=. Between the forks of the =Y= lies the Mediterranean; the stem of itis Arabia. The stem is bathed by the Indian Ocean, the western ends ofthe forks by the Atlantic. The people inhabiting the area thus roughlysketched have, like the Xanthochroi, prominent noses, pale skins andwavy hair, with abundant beards; but, unlike them, the hair is blackor dark, and the eyes usually so. They may thence be called theMELANOCHROI. Such people are found in the British Islands, in Westernand Southern Gaul, in Spain, in Italy south of the Po, in parts ofGreece, in Syria and Arabia, stretching as far northward and eastwardas the Caucasus and Persia. They are the chief inhabitants of Africanorth of the Sahara, and, like the Xanthochroi, they end in theCanary Islands. They are known as Kelts, Iberians, Etruscans, Romans, Pelasgians, Berbers, Semites. The majority of them are long-headed, and of smaller stature than the Xanthochroi. 

It is needless to remark upon the civilization of these two greatstocks. With them has originated everything that is highest inscience, in art, in law, in politics, and in mechanical inventions. In their hands, at the present moment, lies the order of the socialworld, and to them its progress is committed. 

South of the Atlas, and of the Great Desert, Middle Africa exhibitsa new type of humanity in the NEGRO, with his dark skin, woolly hair, projecting jaws, and thick lips. As a rule, the skull of the Negrois remarkably long; it rarely approaches the broad type, and neverexhibits the roundness of the Mongolian. A cultivator of the ground, and dwelling in villages; a maker of pottery, and a worker in theuseful as well as the ornamental metals; employing the bow and arrowas well as the spear, the typical negro stands high in point ofcivilization above the Australian. 

Resembling the Negroes in cranial characters, the BUSHMEN of SouthAfrica differ from them in their yellowish brown skins, their tuftedhair, their remarkably small stature, and their tendency to fatty andother integumentary outgrowths; nor is the wonderful click with whichtheir speech is interspersed to be overlooked in enumerating thephysical characteristics of this strange people. 

The so-called "Drawidian" populations of Southern Hindostan lead usback, physically as well as geographically, towards the Australians;while the diminutive MINCOPIES of the Andaman Islands lie midwaybetween the Negro and Negrito races, and, as Mr. Busk has pointedout, occasionally present the rare combination of Brachycephaly, orshort-headedness, with woolly hair. 

In the preceding progress along the outskirts of the habitable world, eleven readily distinguishable stocks, or persistent modifications, ofmankind, have been recognized. I have purposely omitted such people asthe Abyssinians and the Hindoos, who there is every reason to believeresult from the intermixture of distinct stocks. Perhaps I ought, forlike reasons, to have ignored the Mincopies. But I do not pretend thatmy enumeration is complete or, in any sense, perfect. It is enough formy purpose if it be admitted (and I think it cannot be denied) thatthose which I have mentioned exist, are well marked, and occupy thegreater part of the habitable globe. 

In attempting to classify these persistent modifications after themanner of naturalists, the first circumstance that attracts one'sattention is the broad contrast between the people with straight andwavy hair, and those with crisp, woolly, or tufted hair. Bory deSt. Vincent, noting this fundamental distinction, divided mankindaccordingly into the two primary groups of _Leiotrichi_ and_Ulotrichi_, --terms which are open to criticism, but which I adopt inthe accompanying table, because they have been used. It is better forscience to accept a faulty name which has the merit of existence, thanto burthen it with a faultless newly invented one. 

Under each of these divisions are two columns, one for theBrachycephali, or short heads, and one for the Dolichocephali[1], orlong heads. Again, each column is subdivided transversely into fourcompartments, one for the "leucous, " people with fair complexions andyellow or red hair; one for the "leucomelanous, " with dark hair andpale skins; one for the "xanthomelanous, " with black hair and yellow, brown, or olive skins; and one for the "melanous, " with black hair anddark brown or blackish skins. 

[Footnote 1: Skulls, the transverse diameter of which is more thaneight-tenths the long diameter, are short; those which have thetransverse diameter less than eight-tenths the longitudinal, arelong. ]

 LEIOTRICHI. ULOTRICHI. ______________________________ ____________________________ / \ / \ Dolichocephali. Brachycephali. Dolichocephali. Brachycephali. Leucous. .... Xanthochroi .... Leucomelanous. .... Melanochroi .... Xanthomelanous. _Esquimaux_. Mongolians. _Bushmen_. _Amphinesians_. _Americans_. Melanous. _Australians_. Negroes. _Mincopies_(?) _Negritos_

NOTE: _The names of the stocks known only since the fifteenth centuryare put into italics. If the "Skrälings" of the Norse discoverers ofAmerica were Esquimaux, Europeans became acquainted with the lattersix or seven centuries earlier_. 

It is curious to observe that almost all the woolly-headed people arealso long-headed; while among the straight-haired nations broad headspreponderate, and only two stocks, the Esquimaux and the Australians, are exclusively long-headed. 

One of the acutest and most original of ethnologists, Desmoulins, originated the idea, which has subsequently been fully developed byAgassiz, that the distribution of the persistent modifications of manis governed by the same laws as that of other animals, and that bothfall into the same great distributional provinces. Thus, Australia;America, south of Mexico; the Arctic regions; Europe, Syria, Arabia, and North Africa, taken together, are each regions eminentlycharacterized by the nature of their animal and vegetable populations, and each, as we have seen, has its peculiar and characteristic form ofman. But it may be doubted whether the parallel thus drawn will holdgood strictly, and in all cases. The Tasmanian Fauna and Flora areessentially Australian, and the like is true to a less extent of many, if not of all, the Papuan islands; but the Negritos who inhabit theseislands are strikingly different from the Australians. Again, thedifferences between the Mongolians and the Xanthochroi are out of allproportion greater than those between the Faunae and Florae of Centraland Eastern Asia. But whatever the difficulties in the way of thedetailed application of this comparison of the distribution of menwith that of animals, it is well worthy of being borne in mind, andcarried as far as it will go. 

Apart from all speculation, a very curious fact regarding thedistribution of the persistent modifications of mankind becomesapparent on inspecting an Ethnological chart, projected in sucha manner that the Pacific Ocean occupies its centre. Such a chartexhibits an Australian area occupied by dark smooth-haired people, separated by an incomplete inner zone of dark woolly-hairedNegritos and Negroes, from an outer zone of comparatively pale andsmooth-haired men, occupying the Americas, and nearly all Asia andNorth Africa. 

Such is a brief sketch of the characters and distribution of thepersistent modifications, or stocks, of mankind at the present day. If we seek for direct evidence of how long this state of thingshas lasted, we shall find little enough, and that little far fromsatisfactory. Of the eleven different stocks enumerated, seven havebeen known to us for less than 400 years; and of these seven notone possessed a fragment of written history at the time it came intocontact with European civilization. The other four--the Negroes, Mongolians, Xanthochroi, and Melanochroi--have always existed in someof the localities in which they are now found, nor do the negroes everseem to have voluntarily travelled beyond the limits of their presentarea. But ancient history is in a great measure the record of themutual encroachments of the other three stocks. 

On the whole, however, it is wonderful how little change has beeneffected by these mutual invasions and intermixtures. As at thepresent time, so at the dawn of history, the Melanochroi fringedthe Atlantic and the Mediterranean; the Xanthochroi occupied mostof Central and Eastern Europe, and much of Western and Central Asia;while Mongolians held the extreme east of the Old World. So far ashistory teaches us, the populations of Europe, Asia, and Africa were, twenty centuries ago, just what they are now, in their broad featuresand general distribution. 

The evidence yielded by Archaeology is not very definite, but, sofar as it goes, it is to much the same effect. The mound builders ofCentral America seem to have had the characteristic short and broadhead of the modern inhabitants of that continent. The tumuli and tombsof Ancient Scandinavia, of pre-Roman Britain, of Gaul, of Switzerland, reveal two types of skull--a broad and a long--of which, inScandinavia, the broad seems to have belonged to the older stock, while the reverse was probably the case in Britain, and certainlyin Switzerland. It has been assumed that the broad-skulled people ofancient Scandinavia were Lapps; but there is no proof of the fact, and they may have been, like the broad-skulled Swiss and Germans, Xanthochroi. One of the greatest of ethnological difficulties is toknow where the modern Swedes, Norsemen, and Saxons got their longheads, as all their neighbours, Fins, Lapps, Slavonians, andSouth Germans, are broad-headed. Again, who were the small-handed, long-headed people of the "bronze epoch, " and what has become of theinfusion of their blood among the Xanthochroi?

At present Palaeontology yields no safe data to the ethnologist. Weknow absolutely nothing of the ethnological characters of the men ofAbbeville and Hoxne; but must be content with the demonstration, initself of immense value, that Man existed in Western Europe when itsphysical condition was widely different from what it is now, andwhen animals existed, which, though they belong to what is, properlyspeaking, the present order of things, have long been extinct. Beyondthe limits of a fraction of Europe, Palaeontology tells us nothing ofman or of his works. 

To sum up our knowledge of the ethnological past of man: so far as thelight is bright, it shows him substantially as he is now; and, when itgrows dim, it permits us to see no sign that he was other than he isnow. 

It is a general belief that men of different stocks differ as muchphysiologically as they do morphologically; but it is very hardto prove, in any particular case, how much of a supposed nationalcharacteristic is due to inherent physiological peculiarities, andhow much to the influence of circumstances. There is much evidence toshow, however, that some stocks enjoy a partial or complete immunityfrom diseases which destroy, or decimate, others. Thus there seemsgood ground for the belief that Negroes are remarkably exempt fromyellow fever; and that, among Europeans, the melanochrous people areless obnoxious to its ravages than the xanthochrous. But many writers, not content with physiological differences of this kind, undertake toprove the existence of others of far greater moment; and, indeed, toshow that certain stocks of mankind exhibit, more or less distinctly, the physiological characters of true species. Unions between thesestocks, and still more between the half-breeds arising from theirmixture, are affirmed to be either infertile, or less fertile thanthose which take place between males and females of either stock underthe same circumstances. Some go so far as to assert that no mixedbreeds of mankind can maintain themselves without the assistance ofone or other of the parent stocks, and that, consequently, they mustinevitably be obliterated in the long run. 

Here, again, it is exceedingly difficult to obtain trustworthyevidence, and to free the effects of the pure physiological experimentfrom adventitious influences. The only trial which, by a strangechance, was kept clear of all such influences--the only instance inwhich two distinct stocks of mankind were crossed, and their progenyintermarried without any admixture from without--is the famous caseof the Pitcairn Islanders, who were the progeny of Bligh's Englishsailors by Tahitian women. The results of this experiment, aseverybody knows, are dead against those who maintain the doctrine ofhuman hybridity, seeing that the Pitcairn Islanders, even though theynecessarily contracted consanguineous marriages, throve and multipliedexceedingly. 

But those who are disposed to believe in this doctrine should studythe evidence brought forward in its support by M. Broca, its latestand ablest advocate, and compare this evidence with that which thebotanists, as represented by a Gaertner, or by a Darwin, think itindispensable to obtain before they will admit the infertility ofcrosses between two allied kinds of plants. They will then, I think, be satisfied that the doctrine in question rests upon a very unsafefoundation; that the facts adduced in its support are capable of manyother interpretations; and, indeed, that from the very nature ofthe case, demonstrative evidence one way or the other is almostunattainable. _A priori_, I should be disposed to expect a certainamount of infertility between some of the extreme modifications ofmankind; and still more between the offsprings of their intermixture. _A posteriori_, I cannot discover any satisfactory proof that suchinfertility exists. 

From the facts of ethnology I now turn to the theories andspeculations of ethnologists, which have been devised to explainthese facts, and to furnish satisfactory answers to the inquiry--whatconditions have determined the existence of the persistentmodifications of mankind, and have caused their distribution to bewhat it is?

These speculations may be grouped under three heads: firstly, theMonogenist hypotheses; secondly, those of the Polygenists; andthirdly, that which would result from a simple application ofDarwinian principles to mankind. 

According to the Monogenists, all mankind have sprung from a singlepair, whose multitudinous progeny spread themselves over the world, such as it now is, and became modified into the forms we meet with inthe various regions of the earth, by the effect of the climatal andother conditions to which they were subjected. 

The advocates of this hypothesis are divisible into several schools. There are those who represent the most numerous, respectable, and would-be orthodox of the public, and are what may be called"Adamites, " pure and simple. They believe that Adam was made out ofearth somewhere in Asia, about six thousand years ago; that Eve wasmodelled from one of his ribs; and that the progeny of these twohaving been reduced to the eight persons who were landed on the summitof Mount Ararat after an universal deluge, all the nations of theearth have proceeded from these last, have migrated to their presentlocalities, and have become converted into Negroes, Australians, Mongolians, &c. , within that time. Five-sixths of the public aretaught this Adamitic Monogenism, as if it were an established truth, and believe it. I do not; and I am not acquainted with any man ofscience, or duly instructed person, who does. 

A second school of monogenists, not worthy of much attention, attemptsto hold a place midway between the Adamites and a third division, whotake up a purely scientific position, and require to be dealt withaccordingly. This third division, in fact, numbers in its ranksLinnaeus, Buffon, Blumenbach, Cuvier, Prichard, and many distinguishedliving ethnologists. 

These "Rational Monogenists, " or, at any rate, the more modern amongthem, hold, firstly, that the present condition of the earth hasexisted for untold ages; secondly, that, at a remote period, beyondthe ken of Archbishop Usher, man was created, somewhere between theCaucasus and the Hindoo Koosh; thirdly, that he might have migratedthence to all parts of the inhabited world, seeing that none of themare unattainable from some other inhabited part, by men provided withonly such means of transport as savages are known to possess andmust have invented; fourthly, that the operation of the existingdiversities of climate and other conditions upon people so migrating, is sufficient to account for all the diversities of mankind. 

Of the truth of the first of these propositions no competent judge nowentertains any doubt. The second is more open to discussion, for inthese latter days many question the special creation of man: and evenif his special creation be granted, there is not a shadow of a reasonwhy he should have been created in Asia rather than anywhere else. Of all the odd myths that have arisen in the scientific world, the"Caucasian mystery, " invented quite innocently by Blumenbach, is theoddest. A Georgian woman's skull was the handsomest in his collection. Hence it became his model exemplar of human skulls, from which allothers might be regarded as deviations; and out of this, by somestrange intellectual hocus-pocus, grew up the notion that theCaucasian man is the prototypic "Adamic" man, and his country theprimitive centre of our kind. Perhaps the most curious thing of allis, that the said Georgian skull, after all, is not a skull of averageform, but distinctly belongs to the brachycephalic group. 

With the third proposition I am quite disposed to agree, thoughit must be recollected that it is one thing to allow that a givenmigration is possible, and another to admit there is good reason tobelieve it has really taken place. 

But I can find no sufficient ground for accepting the fourthproposition; and I doubt if it would ever have obtained its generalcurrency except for the circumstance that fair Europeans are veryreadily tanned and embrowned by the sun. But I am not aware that thereis a particle of proof that the cutaneous change thus effected canbecome hereditary, any more than that the enlarged livers, whichplague our countrymen in India, can be transmitted;--while there isvery strong evidence to the contrary. Not only, in fact, are theresuch cases as those of the English families in Barbadoes, who haveremained for six generations unaltered in complexion, but which areopen to the objection that they may have received infusions offresh European blood; but there is the broad fact, that not a singleindigenous Negro exists either in the great alluvial plains oftropical South America, or in the exposed islands of the PolynesianArchipelago, or among the populations of equatorial Borneo or Sumatra. No satisfactory explanation of these obvious difficulties has beenoffered by the advocates of the direct influence of conditions. And asfor the more important modifications observed in the structure of thebrain, and in the form of the skull, no one has ever pretended to showin what way they can be effected directly by climate. 

It is here, in fact, that the strength of the Polygenists, or thosewho maintain that men primitively arose, not from one, but from manystocks, lies. Show us, they say to the Monogenists, a single case inwhich the characters of a human stock have been essentially modifiedwithout its being demonstrable, or, at least, highly probable, thatthere has been intermixture of blood with some foreign stock. Bringforward any instance in which a part of the world, formerly inhabitedby one stock, is now the dwelling-place of another, and we will provethe change to be the result of migration, or of intermixture, and notof modification of character by climatic influences. Finally, proveto us that the evidence in favour of the specific distinctness of manyanimals, admitted to be distinct species by all zoologists, is a whitbetter than that upon which we maintain the specific distinctness ofmen. 

If presenting unanswerable objections to your adversary were the samething as proving your own case, the Polygenists would be in a fair waytowards victory; but, unfortunately, as I have already observed, theyhave as yet completely failed to adduce satisfactory positive proofof the specific diversity of mankind. Like the Monogenists, thePolygenists are of several sects; some imagine that their assumedspecies of mankind were created where we find them--the African inAfrica, and the Australian in Australia, along with the other animalsof their distributional province; others conceive that each species ofman has resulted from the modification of some antecedent species ofape--the American from the broad-nosed Simians of the New World, theAfrican from the Troglodytic stock, the Mongolian from the Orangs. 

The first hypothesis is hardly likely to win much favour. The wholetendency of modern science is to thrust the origination of thingsfurther and further into the background; and the chief philosophicalobjection to Adam being, not his oneness, but the hypothesis of hisspecial creation; the multiplication of that objection tenfold is, whatever it may look, an increase, instead of a diminution, of thedifficulties of the case. And, as to the second alternative, it maysafely be affirmed that, even if the differences between men arespecific, they are so small, that the assumption of more than oneprimitive stock for all is altogether superfluous. Surely no one cannow be found to assert that any two stocks of mankind differ as muchas a chimpanzee and an orang do; still less that they are as unlike aseither of these is to any New World Simian!

Lastly, the granting of the Polygenist premises does not, in theslightest degree, necessitate the Polygenist conclusion. Admit thatNegroes and Australians, Negritos and Mongols are distinct species, or distinct genera, if you will, and you may yet, with perfectconsistency, be the strictest of Monogenists, and even believe in Adamand Eve as the primaeval parents of all mankind. 

It is to Mr. Darwin we owe this discovery: it is he who, comingforward in the guise of an eclectic philosopher, presents his doctrineas the key to ethnology, and as reconciling and combining all that isgood in the Monogenistic and Polygenistic schools. 

It is true that Mr. Darwin has not, in so many words, applied hisviews to ethnology; but even he who "runs and reads" the "Origin ofSpecies" can hardly fail to do so; and, furthermore, Mr. Wallace andM. Pouchet have recently treated of ethnological questions from thispoint of view. Let me, in conclusion, add my own contribution to thesame store. 

I assume Man to have arisen in the manner which I have discussedelsewhere, and probably, though by no means necessarily, in onelocality. Whether he arose singly, or a number of examples appearedcontemporaneously, is also an open question for the believer in theproduction of species by the gradual modification of pre-existingones. At what epoch of the world's history this took place, again, wehave no evidence whatever. It may have been in the older tertiary, or earlier, but what is most important to remember is, that thediscoveries of late years have proved that man inhabited WesternEurope, at any rate, before the occurrence of those great physicalchanges which have given Europe its present aspect. And as the sameevidence shows that man was the contemporary of animals which are nowextinct, it is not too much to assume that his existence dates backat least as far as that of our present Fauna and Flora, or before theepoch of the drift. 

But if this be true, it is somewhat startling to reflect upon theprodigious changes which have taken place in the physical geography ofthis planet since man has been an occupant of it. 

During that period the greater part of the British islands, of CentralEurope, of Northern Asia, have been submerged beneath the sea andraised up again. So has the great desert of Sahara, which occupies themajor part of Northern Africa. The Caspian and the Aral seas have beenone, and their united waters have probably communicated with both theArctic and the Mediterranean oceans. The greater part of North Americahas been under water, and has emerged. It is highly probable thata large part of the Malayan Archipelago has sunk, and its primitivecontinuity with Asia has been destroyed. Over the great Polynesianarea subsidence has taken place to the extent of many thousands offeet--subsidence of so vast a character, in fact, that if a continentlike Asia had once occupied the area of the Pacific, the peaks of itsmountains would now show not more numerous than the islands of thePolynesian Archipelago. 

What lands may have been thickly populated for untold ages, andsubsequently have disappeared and left no sign above the waters, itis of course impossible for us to say; but unless we are to make thewholly unjustifiable assumption that no dry land rose elsewhere whenour present dry land sank, there must be half-a-dozen Atlantisesbeneath the waves of the various oceans of the world. But if theregions which have undergone these slow and gradual, but immensealterations, were wholly or in part inhabited before the changes Ihave indicated began--and it is more probable that they were, thanthat they were not--what a wonderfully efficient "Emigration Board"must have been at work all over the world long before canoes, or evenrafts, were invented; and before men were impelled to wander by anydesire nobler or stronger than hunger. And as these rude and primitivefamilies were thrust, in the course of long series of generations, from land to land, impelled by encroachments of sea or of marsh, orby severity of summer heat or winter cold, to change their positions, what opportunities must have been offered for the play of naturalselection, in preserving one family variation and destroying another!

Suppose, for example, that some families of a horde which had reacheda land charged with the seeds of yellow fever, varied in the directionof woolliness of hair and darkness of skin. Then, if it be true thatthese physical characters are accompanied by comparative or absoluteexemptions from that scourge, the inevitable tendency would be to thepreservation and multiplication of the darker and woollier families, and the elimination of the whiter and smoother-haired. In fact, by theoperation of causes precisely similar to those which, in the famousinstance cited by Mr. Darwin, have given rise to a race of black pigsin the forests of Louisiana, a negro stock would eventually people theregion. 

Again, how often, by such physical changes, must a stock have beenisolated from all others for innumerable generations, and have foundample time for the hereditary hardening of its special peculiaritiesinto the enduring characters of a persistent modification. 

Nor, if it be true that the physiological difference of species may beproduced by variation and natural selection, as Mr. Darwin supposes, would it be at all astonishing if, in some of these separated stocks, the process of differentiation should have gone so far as to giverise to the phenomena of hybridity. In the face of the overwhelmingevidence in favour of the unity of the origin of mankind afforded byanatomical considerations, satisfactory proof of the existence of anydegree of sterility in the unions of members of two of the "persistentmodifications" of mankind, might well be appealed to by Mr. Darwinas crucial evidence of the truth of his views regarding the origin ofspecies in general. 

VIII. 

ON SOME FIXED POINTS IN BRITISH ETHNOLOGY. 

In view of the many discussions to which the complicated problemsoffered by the ethnology of the British Islands have given rise, itmay be useful to attempt to pick out, from amidst the confused massesof assertion and of inference, those propositions which appear to restupon a secure foundation, and to state the evidence by which they aresupported. Such is the purpose of the present paper. 

Some of these well-based propositions relate to the physicalcharacters of the people of Britain and their neighbours; while othersconcern the languages which they spoke. I shall deal, in the firstplace, with the physical questions. 

I. _Eighteen hundred years ago the population of Britain comprisedpeople of two types of complexion--the one fair, and the other dark. The dark people resembled the Aquitani and the Iberians; the fairpeople were like the Belgic Gauls. _

The chief direct evidence of the truth of this proposition is thewell-known passage of Tacitus:--

 "Ceterum Britanniam qui mortales initio coluerint, indigenae an advecti, ut inter barbaros, parum compertum. Habitus corporum varii: atque ex eo argumenta: nam rutilae Caledoniam habitantium comae, magni artus Germanicam originem asseverant. Silurum colorati vultus et torti plerumque crines, et posita contra Hispaniam, Iberos veteres trajecisse, easque sedes occupasse, fidem faciunt. Proximi Gallis et similes sunt; seu durante originis vi, seu procurrentibus in diversa terris, positio coeli corporibus habitum dedit. In universum tamen aestimanti, Gallos vicinum solum occupasse, credibile est; eorum sacra deprehendas, superstitionum persuasione; sermo haud multum diversus. "[1]

[Footnote 1: Taciti Agricola, c. 11. ]

This passage, it will be observed, contains statements as to facts, and certain conclusions deduced from these facts. The matters of factasserted are: firstly, that the inhabitants of Britain exhibit muchdiversity in their physical characters; secondly, that the Caledoniansare red-haired and large-limbed, like the Germans; thirdly, thatthe Silures have curly hair and dark complexions, like the people ofSpain; fourthly, that the British people nearest Gaul resemble the"Galli. "

Tacitus, therefore, states positively what the Caledonians and Silureswere like; but the interpretation of what he says about the otherBritons must depend upon what we learn from other sources as to thecharacters of these "Galli. " Here the testimony of "divus Julius"comes in with great force and appropriateness. Caesar writes:--

 "Britanniae pars interior ab iis incolitur, quos natos in insula ipsi memoria proditum dicunt: marituma pars ab iis, qui predae ac belli inferendi causa ex Belgio transierant; qui omnes fere iis nominibus civitatum appellantur quibus orti ex civitatibus eo pervenerunt, et bello inlato ibi permanserunt atque agros colere coeperunt. "[1]

[Footnote 1: De Bello Gallico, v. 12. ]

From these passages it is obvious that in the opinion of Caesarand Tacitus, the southern Britons resembled the northern Gauls, andespecially the Belgae; and the evidence of Strabo is decisive as tothe characters in which the two people resembled one another: "The men(of Britain) are taller than the Kelts, with hair less yellow; theyare slighter in their persons. "[1]

[Footnote 1: "The Geography of Strabo. " Translated by Hamilton andFalconer; v. 5. ]

The evidence adduced appears to leave no reasonable ground fordoubting that, at the time of the Roman conquest, Britain containedpeople of two types, the one dark and the other fair complexioned, andthat there was a certain difference between the latter in the northand in the south of Britain: the northern folk being, in the judgmentof Tacitus, or, more properly, according to the information he hadreceived from Agricola and others, more similar to the Germans thanthe latter. As to the distribution of these stocks, all that is clearis, that the dark people were predominant in certain parts of the westof the southern half of Britain, while the fair stock appears to havefurnished the chief elements of the population elsewhere. 

No ancient writer troubled himself with measuring skulls, andtherefore there is no direct evidence as to the cranial charactersof the fair and the dark stocks. The indirect evidence is not verysatisfactory. The tumuli of Britain of pre-Roman date have yielded twoextremely different forms of skull, the one broad and the other long;and the same variety has been observed in the skulls of the ancientGauls[1]. The suggestion is obvious that the one form of skull mayhave been associated with the fair, and the other with the dark, complexion. But any conclusion of this kind is at once checked by thereflection that the extremes of long and short-headedness are to bemet with among the fair inhabitants of Germany and of Scandinaviaat the present day--the south-western Germans and the Swiss beingmarkedly broad-headed, while the Scandinavians are as predominantlylong-headed. 

[Footnote 1: See Dr. Thurnam "On the Two principal Forms of AncientBritish and Gaulish Skulls. "]

What the natives of Ireland were like at the time of the Romanconquest of Britain, and for centuries afterwards, we have no certainknowledge; but the earliest trustworthy records prove the existence, side by side with one another, of a fair and a dark stock, in Irelandas in Britain. The long form of skull is predominant among theancient, as among modern, Irish. 

II. _The people termed Gauls, and those called Germans, by the Romans, did not differ in any important physical character. _

The terms in which the ancient writers describe both Gauls and Germansare identical. They are always tall people, with massive limbs, fairskins, fierce blue eyes, and hair the colour of which ranges fromred to yellow. Zeuss, the great authority on these matters, affirmsbroadly that no distinction in bodily feature is to be found betweenthe Gauls, the Germans, and the Wends, so far as their characters arerecorded by the old historians; and he proves his case by citationsfrom a cloud of witnesses. 

An attempt has been made to show that the colour of the hair of theGauls must have differed very much from that which obtained among theGermans, on the strength of the story told by Suetonius (Caligula, 4), that Caligula tried to pass off Gauls for Germans by picking out thetallest, and making them "rutilare et summittere comam. "

The Baron de Belloguet remarks upon this passage:--

 "It was in the very north of Gaul, and near the sea, that Caligula got up this military comedy. And the fact proves that the Belgae were already sensibly different from their ancestors, whom Strabo had found almost identical with their _brothers_ on the other side of the Rhine. "

But the fact recorded by Suetonius, if fact it be, proves nothing;for the Germans themselves were in the habit of reddening their hair. Ammianus Marcellinus[1] tells how, in the year 367 A. D. , the Romancommander, Jovinus, surprised a body of Alemanni near the town nowcalled Charpeigne, in the valley of the Moselle; and how the Romansoldiers, as, concealed by the thick wood, they stole upon theirunsuspecting enemies, saw that some were bathing and others "comasrutilantes ex more. " More than two centuries earlier Pliny givesindirect evidence to the same effect when he says of soap:--

[Footnote 1: Res Gestae, xxvii. ]

 "Galliarum hoc inventum rutilandis capillis ... Apud Germanos majore in usu viris quam foeminis. "[1]

[Footnote 1: Historia Naturalis, xxviii. 51. ]

Here we have a writer who flourished only a short time after the dateof the Caligula story, telling us that the Gauls invented soap for thepurpose of doing that which, according to Suetonius, Caligula forcedthem to do. And, further, the combined and independent testimony ofPliny and Ammianus assures us that the Germans were as much in thehabit of reddening their hair as the Gauls. As to De Belloguet'ssupposition that, even in Caligula's time, the Gauls had become darkerthan their ancestors were, it is directly contradicted by AmmianusMarcellinus, who knew the Gauls well. "Celsioris staturae et candidipoene Galli sunt onions, et rutili, luminumque torvitate terribiles, "is his description; and it would fit the Gauls who sacked Rome. 

III. _In none of the invasions of Britain which have taken place sincethe Roman dominion, has any other type of man been introduced than oneor other of the two which existed during that dominion_. 

The North Germans, who effected what is commonly called the Saxonconquest of Britain, were, most assuredly, a fair, yellow, orred-haired, blue eyed, long-skulled people. So were the Danes and theNorsemen who followed them; though it is very possible that the activeslave trade which went on, and the intercourse with Ireland, may haveintroduced a certain admixture of the dark stock into both Denmark andNorway. The Norman conquest brought in new ethnological elements, theprecise value of which cannot be estimated with exactness; but as totheir quality, there can be no question, inasmuch as even the widearea from which William drew his followers could yield him nothing butthe fair and the dark types of men, already present in Britain. Butwhether the Norman settlers, on the whole, strengthened the fair orthe dark element, is a problem, the elements of the solution of whichare not attainable. 

I am unable to discover any grounds for believing that a Lapp elementhas ever entered into the population of these islands. So far as thephysical evidence goes, it is perfectly consistent with the hypothesisthat the only constituent stocks of that population, now, or at anyother period about which we have evidence, are the dark whites, whomI have proposed to call "_Melanochroi_" and the fair whites, or"_Xanthochroi. _"

IV. _The Xanthochroi and the Melanochroi of Britain are, speakingbroadly, distributed, at present, as they were in the time of Tacitus;and their representatives on the continent of Europe have the samegeneral distribution as at the earliest period of which we have anyrecord. _

At the present day, and notwithstanding the extensive intermixtureeffected by the movements consequent on civilization and on politicalchanges, there is a predominance of dark men in the west, and of fairmen in the east and north, of Britain. At the present day, as fromthe earliest times, the predominant constituents of the riverainpopulation of the North Sea and the eastern half of the BritishChannel, are fair men. The fair stock continues in force throughCentral Europe, until it is lost in Central Asia. Offshoots of thisstock extend into Spain, Italy, and Northern India, and by way ofSyria and North Africa, to the Canary Islands. They were known invery early times to the Chinese, and in still earlier to the ancientEgyptians, as frontier tribes. The Thracians were notorious for theirfair hair and blue eyes many centuries before our era. 

On the other hand, the dark stock predominates in Southern andWestern France, in Spain, along the Ligurian shore, and in Western andSouthern Italy; in Greece, Asia, Syria, and North Africa; in Arabia, Persia, Afghanistan, and Hindostan, shading gradually, through allstages of darkening, into the type of the modern Egyptian, or of thewild Hill-man of the Dekkan. Nor is there any record of the existenceof a different population in all these countries. 

The extreme north of Europe, and the northern part of Western Asia, are at present occupied by a Mongoloid stock, and, in the absence ofevidence to the contrary, may be assumed to have been so peopled froma very remote epoch. But, as I have said, I can find no evidence thatthis stock ever took part in peopling Britain. Of the three greatstocks of mankind which extend from the western coast of thegreat Eurasiatic continent to its southern and eastern shores, theMongoloids occupy a vast triangle, the base of which is the whole ofEastern Asia, while its apex lies in Lapland. The Melanochroi, on theother hand, may be represented as a broad band stretching from Irelandto Hindostan; while the Xanthochroic area lies between the two, thinsout, so to speak, at either end, and mingles, at its margins, withboth its neighbours. 

Such is a brief and summary statement of what I believe to be thechief facts relating to the physical ethnology of the people ofBritain. The conclusions which I draw from these and other facts are(1) That the Melanochroi and the Xanthochroi are two separate races inthe biological sense of the word race; (2) That they have had the samegeneral distribution as at present from the earliest times of whichany record exists on the continent of Europe; (3) That the populationof the British Islands is derived from them, and from them only. 

The people of Europe, however, owe their national names, not totheir physical characteristics, but to their languages, or to theirpolitical relations; which, it is plain, need not have the slightestrelation to these characteristics. 

Thus, it is quite certain that, in Caesar's time, Gaul was dividedpolitically into three nationalities--the Belgae, the Celtae, andthe Aquitani; and that the last were very widely different, both inlanguage and in physical characteristics, from the two former. TheBelgae and the Celtae, on the other hand, differed comparativelylittle either in physique or in language. On the former point there isthe distinct testimony of Strabo; as to the latter, St. Jerome statesthat the "Galatians had almost the same language as the Treviri. " Now, the Galatians were emigrant Volcae Tectosages, and therefore Celtae;while the Treviri were Belgae. 

At the present day, the physical characters of the people ofBelgic Gaul remain distinct from those of the people of Aquitaine, notwithstanding the immense changes which have taken place sinceCaesar's time; but Belgae, Celtae, and Aquitani (all but a merefraction of the last two, represented by the Basques and the Britons)are fused into one nationality, "le peuple Français. " But they haveadopted the language of one set of invaders, and the name of another;their original names and languages having almost disappeared. Suppose that the French language remained as the sole evidence ofthe existence of the population of Gaul, would the keenest philologerarrive at any other conclusion than that this population wasessentially and fundamentally a "Latin" race, which had had somecommunication with Celts and Teutons? Would he so much as suspect theformer existence of the Aquitani?

Community of language testifies to close contact between the peoplewho speak the language, but to nothing else; philology has absolutelynothing to do with ethnology, except so far as it suggests theexistence or the absence of such contact. The contrary assumption, that language is a test of race, has introduced the utmost confusioninto ethnological speculation, and has nowhere worked greaterscientific and practical mischief than in the ethnology of the BritishIslands. 

What is known, for certain, about the languages spoken in theseislands and their affinities may, I believe, be summed up asfollows:--

I. _At the time of the Roman conquest, one language, the Celtic, undertwo principal dialectical divisions, the Cymric and the Gaelic, wasspoken throughout the British Islands. Cymric was spoken in Britain, Gaelic in Ireland. _

If a language allied to Basque had in earlier times been spoken inthe British Islands, there is no evidence that any Euskarian-speakingpeople remained at the time of the Roman conquest. The dark and thefair population of Britain alike spoke Celtic tongues, and thereforethe name "Celt" is as applicable to the one as to the other. 

What was spoken in Ireland can only be surmised by reasoning from theknowledge of later times; but there seems to be no doubt that it wasGaelic; and that the Gaelic dialect was introduced into the WesternHighlands by Irish invaders. 

II. _The Belgae and the Celtae, with the offshoots of the latter inAsia Minor, spoke dialects of the Cymric division of Celtic_. 

The evidence of this proposition lies in the statement of St. Jeromebefore cited; in the similarity of the names of places in Belgic Gauland in Britain; and in the direct comparison of sundry ancient Gaulishand Belgic words which have been preserved, with the existing Cymricdialects, for which I must refer to the learned work of Brandes. 

Formerly, as at the present day, the Cymric dialects of Celtic werespoken by both the fair and the dark stocks. 

III. _There is no record of Gaelic being spoken anywhere save inIreland, Scotland, and the Isle of Man_. 

This appears to be the final result of the long discussions which havetaken place on this much-debated question. As is the case with theCymric dialects, Gaelic is now spoken by both dark and fair stocks. 

IV. _When the Teutonic languages first became known, they were spokenonly Xanthochroi, that is to say, by the Germans, the Scandinavians, and Goths. And they were imported by Xanthochroi into Gaul and intoBritain. _

In Gaul the imported Teutonic dialect has been completely overpoweredby the more or less modified Latin, which it found already inpossession; and what Teutonic blood there may be in modern Frenchmenis not adequately represented in their language. In Britain, on thecontrary, the Teutonic dialects have overpowered the pre-existingforms of speech, and the people are vastly less "Teutonic" thantheir language. Whatever may have been the extent to which theCeltic-speaking population of the eastern half of Britain was troddenout and supplanted by the Teutonic-speaking Saxons and Danes, it isquite certain that no considerable displacement of the Celtic-speakingpeople occurred in Cornwall, Wales, or the Highlands of Scotland; andthat nothing approaching to the extinction of that people took placein Devonshire, Somerset, or the western moiety of Britain generally. Nevertheless, the fundamentally Teutonic English language is nowspoken throughout Britain, except by an insignificant fraction of thepopulation in Wales and the Western Highlands. But it is obviousthat this fact affords not the slightest justification for the commonpractice of speaking of the present inhabitants of Britain as an"Anglo-Saxon" people. It is, in fact, just as absurd as the habit oftalking of the French people as a "Latin" race, because they speak alanguage which is, in the main, derived from Latin. And the absurditybecomes the more patent when those who have no hesitation in callinga Devonshire man, or a Cornish man, an "Anglo-Saxon, " would think itridiculous to call a Tipperary man by the same title, though he andhis forefathers may have spoken English for as long a time as theCornish man. 

Ireland, at the earliest period of which we have any knowledge, contained like Britain, a dark and a fair stock, which, there is everyreason to believe, were identical with the dark and the fair stocksof Britain. When the Irish first became known they spoke a Gaelicdialect, and though, for many centuries, Scandinavians made continualincursions upon, and settlements among them, the Teutonic languagesmade no more way among the Irish than they did among the French. Howmuch Scandinavian blood was introduced there is no evidence to show. But after the conquest of Ireland by Henry II. , the English people, consisting in part of the descendants of Cymric speakers, and in partof the descendants of Teutonic speakers, made good their footing inthe eastern half of the island, as the Saxons and Danes made goodtheirs in England; and did their best to complete the parallel byattempting the extirpation of the Gaelic-speaking Irish. And theysucceeded to a considerable extent; a large part of Eastern Ireland isnow peopled by men who are substantially English by descent, and theEnglish language has spread over the land far beyond the limits ofEnglish blood. 

Ethnologically, the Irish people were originally, like the people ofBritain, a mixture of Melanochroi and Xanthochroi. They resembled theBritons in speaking a Celtic tongue; but it was a Gaelic and not aCymric form of the Celtic language. Ireland was untouched by the Romanconquest, nor do the Saxons seem to have had any influence uponher destinies, but the Danes and Norsemen poured in a contingent ofTeutonism, which has been largely supplemented by English and Scotchefforts. 

What, then, is the value of the ethnological difference between theEnglishman of the western half of England and the Irishman of theeastern half of Ireland? For what reason does the one deserve thename of a "Celt, " and not the other? And further, if we turn tothe inhabitants of the western half of Ireland, why should the term"Celts" be applied to them more than to the inhabitants of Cornwall?And if the name is applicable to the one as justly as to the other, why should not intelligence, perseverance, thrift, industry, sobriety, respect for law, be admitted to be Celtic virtues? And why should wenot seek for the cause of their absence in something else than theidle pretext of "Celtic blood?"

I have been unable to meet with any answers to these questions. 

V. _The Celtic and the Teutonic dialects are members of the samegreat Aryan family of languages; but there is evidence to show that anon-Aryan language was at one time spoken over a large extent of thearea occupied by Melanochroi in Europe_. 

The non-Aryan language here referred to is the Euskarian, now spokenonly by the Basques, but which seems in earlier times to have beenthe language of the Aquitanians and Spaniards, and may possibly haveextended much further to the East. Whether it has any connection withthe Ligurian and Oscan dialects are questions upon which, of course, I do not presume to offer any opinion. But it is important to remarkthat it is a language the area of which has gradually diminishedwithout any corresponding extirpation of the people who primitivelyspoke it; so that the people of Spain and of Aquitaine at the presentday must be largely "Euskarian" by descent in just the same sense asthe Cornish men are "Celtic" by descent. 

Such seem to me to be the main facts respecting the ethnology of theBritish islands and of Western Europe, which may be said to be fairlyestablished. The hypothesis by which I think (with De Belloguet andThurnam) the facts may best be explained is this: In very remote timesWestern Europe and the British islands were inhabited by the darkstock, or the Melanochroi, alone, and these Melanochroi spoke dialectsallied to the Euskarian. The Xanthochroi, spreading over the greatEurasiatic plains westward, and speaking Aryan dialects, graduallyinvaded the territories of the Melanochroi. The Xanthochroi, whothus came into contact with the Western Melanochroi, spoke a Celticlanguage; and that Celtic language, whether Cymric or Gaelic, spreadover the Melanochroi far beyond the limits of intermixture of blood, supplanting Euskarian, just as English and French, have supplantedCeltic. Even as early as Caesar's time, I suppose that the Euskarianwas everywhere, except in Spain and in Aquitaine, replaced by Celtic, and thus the Celtic speakers were no longer of one ethnological stock, but of two. Both in Western Europe and in England a third wave oflanguage--in the one case Latin, in the other Teutonic--has spreadover the same area. In Western Europe, it has left a fragment of theprimary Euskarian in one corner of the country, and a fragment of thesecondary Celtic in another. In the British islands, only outlyingpools of the secondary linguistic wave remain in Wales, the Highlands, Ireland, and the Isle of Man. If this hypothesis is a sound one, itfollows that the name of Celtic is not properly applicable to theMelanochroic or dark stock of Europe. They are merely, so to speak, secondary Celts. The primary and aboriginal Celtic-speaking people areXanthochroi--the typical Gauls of the ancient writers, and the closeallies by blood, customs, and language, of the Germans. 

IX. 

PALAEONTOLOGY AND THE DOCTRINE OF EVOLUTION. 

(THE ANNIVERSARY ADDRESS TO THE GEOLOGICAL SOCIETY, FOR 1870. )

It is now eight years since, in the absence of the late Mr. LeonardHomer, who then presided over us, it fell to my lot, as one of theSecretaries of this Society, to draw up the customary Annual Address. I availed myself of the opportunity to endeavour to "take stock"of that portion of the science of biology which is commonly called"palaeontology, " as it then existed; and, discussing one after anotherthe doctrines held by palaeontologists, I put before you the resultsof my attempts to sift the well-established from the hypothetical orthe doubtful. Permit me briefly to recall to your minds what thoseresults were:--

1. The living population of all parts of the earth's surface whichhave yet been examined has undergone a succession of changes which, upon the whole, have been of a slow and gradual character. 

2. When the fossil remains which are the evidences of these successivechanges, as they have occurred in any two more or less distant partsof the surface of the earth, are compared, they exhibit a certainbroad and general parallelism. In other words, certain forms of lifein one locality occur in the same general order of succession as, orare _homotaxial_ with, similar forms in the other locality. 

3. Homotaxis is not to be held identical with synchronism withoutindependent evidence. It is possible that similar, or even identical, faunae and florae in two different localities may be of extremelydifferent ages, if the term "age" is used in its proper chronologicalsense. I stated that "geographical provinces, or zones, may have beenas distinctly marked in the Palaeozoic epoch as at present; and thoseseemingly sudden appearances of new genera and species, which weascribe to new creation, may be simple results of migration. "

4. The opinion that the oldest known fossils are the earliest forms oflife has no solid foundation. 

5. If we confine ourselves to positively ascertained facts, the totalamount of change in the forms of animal and vegetable life, since theexistence of such forms is recorded, is small. When compared with thelapse of time since the first appearance of these forms, the amountof change is wonderfully small. Moreover, in each great group of theanimal and vegetable kingdoms, there are certain forms which I termedPERSISTENT TYPES, which have remained, with but very little apparentchange, from their first appearance to the present time. 

6. In answer to the question "What, then, does an impartial survey ofthe positively ascertained truths of palaeontology testify in relationto the common doctrines of progressive modification, which supposethat modification to have taken place by a necessary progress frommore to less embryonic forms, from more to less generalized types, within, the limits of the period represented by the fossiliferousrocks?" I reply, "It negatives these doctrines; for it either shows usno evidence of such modification, or demonstrates such modification ashas occurred to have been very slight; and, as to the nature ofthat modification, it yields no evidence whatsoever that the earliermembers of any long-continued group were more generalized in structurethan the later ones. "

I think that I cannot employ my last opportunity of addressing you, officially, more properly--I may say more dutifully--than inrevising these old judgments with such help as further knowledge andreflection, and an extreme desire to get at the truth, may afford me. 

1. With respect to the first proposition, I may remark thatwhatever may be the case among the physical geologists, catastrophicpalaeontologists are practically extinct. It is now no part ofrecognized geological doctrine that the species of one formation alldied out and were replaced by a brand-new set in the next formation. On the contrary, it is generally, if not universally, agreed thatthe succession of life has been, the result of a slow and gradualreplacement of species by species; and that all appearances ofabruptness of change are due to breaks in the series of deposits, orother changes in physical conditions. The continuity of living formshas been unbroken from the earliest times to the present day. 

2, 3. The use of the word "homotaxis" instead of "synchronism" hasnot, so far as I know, found much favour in the eyes of geologists. I hope, therefore, that it is a love for scientific caution, and notmere personal affection for a bantling of my own, which leads me stillto think that the change of phrase is of importance, and that thesooner it is made, the sooner shall we get rid of a number of pitfallswhich beset the reasoner upon the facts and theories of geology. 

One of the latest pieces of foreign intelligence which has reachedus is the information that the Austrian geologists have, at last, succumbed to the weighty evidence which M. Barrande has accumulated, and have admitted the doctrine of colonies. But the admission of thedoctrine of colonies implies the further admission that even identityof organic remains is no proof of the synchronism of the depositswhich contain them. 

4. The discussions touching the _Eozoon_, which commenced in 1864, have abundantly justified the fourth proposition. In 1862, the oldestrecord of life was in the Cambrian rocks; but if the _Eozoon_ be, as Principal Dawson and Dr. Carpenter have shown so much reason forbelieving, the remains of a living being, the discovery of its truenature carried life back to a period which, as Sir William Logan hasobserved, is as remote from that during which the Cambrian rocks weredeposited, as the Cambrian epoch itself is from the tertiaries. Inother words, the ascertained duration of life upon the globe wasnearly doubled at a stroke. 

5. The significance of persistent types, and of the small amount ofchange which has taken place even in those forms which can be shown tohave been modified, becomes greater and greater in my eyes, the longerI occupy myself with the biology of the past. 

Consider how long a time has elapsed since the Miocene epoch. Yet, atthat time, there is reason to believe that every important group inevery order of the _Mammalia_ was represented. Even the comparativelyscanty Eocene fauna yields examples of the orders _Cheiroptera, Insectivora, Rodentia_, and _Perissodactyla_; of _Artiodactyla_under both the Ruminant and the Porcine modifications; of _Carnivora, Cetacea_, and _Marsupialia_. 

Or, if we go back to the older half of the Mesozoic epoch, how trulysurprising it is to find every order of the _Reptilia_, exceptthe _Ophidia_, represented; while some groups, such as the_Ornithoscelida_ and the _Pterosauria_, more specialized than anywhich now exist, abounded. 

There is one division of the _Amphibia_ which offers especiallyimportant evidence upon this point, inasmuch as it bridges over thegap between the Mesozoic and the Palaeozoic formations (often supposedto be of such prodigious magnitude), extending, as it does, from thebottom of the Carboniferous series to the top of the Trias, if notinto the Lias. I refer to the Labyrinthodonts. As the address of 1862was passing through the press, I was able to mention, in a note, thediscovery of a large Labyrinthodont, with well-ossified vertebrae, inthe Edinburgh coal-field. Since that time eight or ten distinct generaof Labyrinthodonts have been discovered in the Carboniferous rocksof England, Scotland, and Ireland, not to mention the American formsdescribed by Principal Dawson and Professor Cope. So that, at thepresent time, the Labyrinthodont Fauna of the Carboniferous rocks ismore extensive and diversified than that of the Trias, while its chieftypes, so far as osteology enables us to judge, are quite as highlyorganized. Thus it is certain that a comparatively highly organizedvertebrate type, such as that of the Labyrinthodonts, is capableof persisting, with no considerable change, through the periodrepresented by the vast deposits which constitute the Carboniferous, the Permian, and the Triassic formations. 

The very remarkable results which have been brought to light by thesounding and dredging operations, which have been carried on withsuch remarkable success by the expeditions sent out by our own, theAmerican, and the Swedish Governments, under the supervision ofable naturalists, have a bearing in the same direction. Theseinvestigations have demonstrated the existence, at great depths in theocean, of living animals in some cases identical with, in others verysimilar to, those which are found fossilized in the white chalk. The_Globigerinae_, Cyatholiths, Coccospheres, Discoliths in the one areabsolutely identical with those in the other; there are identical, orclosely analogous, species of Sponges, Echinoderms, and Brachiopods. Off the coast of Portugal, there now lives a species of _Beryx_, which, doubtless, leaves its bones and scales here and there in theAtlantic ooze, as its predecessor left its spoils in the mud of thesea of the Cretaceous epoch. 

Many years ago[1] I ventured to speak of the Atlantic mud as "modernchalk, " and I know of no fact inconsistent with the view whichProfessor Wyville Thomson has advocated, that the modern chalk is notonly the lineal descendant of the ancient chalk, but that it remains, so to speak, in the possession of the ancestral estate; and that fromthe Cretaceous period (if not much earlier) to the present day, thedeep sea has covered a large part of what is now the area of theAtlantic. But if _Globigerinae_, and _Terebratula caput-serpentis_and _Beryx_, not to mention other forms of animals and of plants, thusbridge over the interval between the present and the Mesozoic periods, is it possible that the majority of other living things underwent a"sea-change into something new and strange" all at once?

[Footnote 1: See an article in the _Saturday Review_, for 1858, on"Chalk, Ancient and Modern. "]

6. Thus far I have endeavoured to expand and to enforce by fresharguments, but not to modify in any important respect, the ideassubmitted to you on a former occasion. But when I come to thepropositions touching progressive modification, it appears to me, withthe help of the new light which has broken from various quarters, thatthere is much ground for softening the somewhat Brutus-like severitywith which, in 1862, I dealt with a doctrine, for the truth of which Ishould have been glad enough to be able to find a good foundation. So far, indeed, as the _Invertebrata_, and the lower _Vertebrata_ areconcerned, the facts and the conclusions which are to be drawn fromthem appear to me to remain what they were. For anything that, as yet, appears to the contrary, the earliest known Marsupials may have beenas highly organized as their living congeners; the Permian lizardsshow no signs of inferiority to those of the present day; theLabyrinthodonts cannot be placed below the living Salamander andTriton; the Devonian Ganoids are closely related to _Polypterus_ andto _Lepidosiren_. 

But when we turn to the higher _Vertebrata_, the results of recentinvestigations, however we may sift and criticise them, seem to me toleave a clear balance in favour of the doctrine of the evolutionof living forms one from another. Nevertheless, in discussing thisquestion, it is very necessary to discriminate carefully between thedifferent kinds of evidence from fossil remains which are broughtforward in favour of evolution. 

Every fossil which takes an intermediate place between forms oflife already known, may be said, so far as it is intermediate, to beevidence in favour of evolution, inasmuch as it shows a possible roadby which evolution may have taken place. But the mere discovery ofsuch a form does not, in itself, prove that evolution took place byand through it, nor does it constitute more than presumptive evidencein favour of evolution in general. Suppose A, B, C to be threeforms, while B is intermediate in structure between A and C. Then thedoctrine of evolution offers four possible alternatives. A may havebecome C by way of B; or C may have become A by way of B; or A andC may be independent modifications of B; or A, B, and C may beindependent modifications of some unknown D. Take the case of thePigs, the _Anoplotheridae_, and the Ruminants. The _Anoplotheridae_are intermediate between the first and the last; but this does nottell us whether the Ruminants have come from the Pigs, or the Pigsfrom Ruminants, or both from _Anoplotheridae_, or whether Pigs, Ruminants, and _Anoplotheridae_ alike may not have diverged from somecommon stock. 

But if it can be shown that A, B, and C exhibit successive stages inthe degree of modification, or specialization, of the same type; andif, further, it can be proved that they occur in successivelynewer deposits. A being in the oldest and C in the newest, then theintermediate character of B has quite another importance, and I shouldaccept it, without hesitation, as a link in the genealogy of C. Ishould consider the burden of proof to be thrown upon anyone whodenied C to have been derived from A by way of B, or in some closelyanalogous fashion; for it is always probable that one may not hit uponthe exact line of filiation, and, in dealing with fossils, may mistakeuncles and nephews for fathers and sons. 

I think it necessary to distinguish between the former and the latterclasses of intermediate forms, as _intercalary types_ and _lineartypes_. When I apply the former term, I merely mean to say that asa matter of fact, the form B, so named, is intermediate between theothers, in the sense in which the _Anoplotherium_ is intermediatebetween the Pigs and the Ruminants--without either affirming, ordenying, any direct genetic relation between the three forms involved. When I apply the latter term, on the other hand, I mean to express theopinion that the forms A, B, and C constitute a line of descent, andthat B is thus part of the lineage of C. 

From the time when Cuvier's wonderful researches upon the extinctMammals of the Paris gypsum first made intercalary types known, andcaused them to be recognized as such, the number of such forms hassteadily increased among the higher _Mammalia_. Not only do we nowknow numerous intercalary forms of _Ungulata_, but M. Gaudry's greatmonograph upon the fossils of Pikermi (which strikes me as one of themost perfect pieces of palaeontological work I have seen for a longtime) shows us, among the _Primates, Mesopithecus_ as an intercalaryform between the _Semnopitheci_ and the _Macaci_; and among the_Carnivora, Hyaenictis_ and _Ictitherium_ as intercalary, or, perhaps, linear types between the _Viverridae_ and the _Hyaenidae_. 

Hardly any order of the higher _Mammalia_ stands so apparentlyseparate and isolated from the rest as that of the _Cetacea_; thougha careful consideration of the structure of the pinnipede _Carnivora_, or Seals, shows, in them, many an approximation towards the still morecompletely marine mammals. The extinct _Zeuglodon_, however, presentsus with an intercalary form between the type of the Seals and that ofthe Whales. The skull of this great Eocene sea-monster, in fact, showsby the narrow and prolonged interorbital region; the extensive unionof the parietal bones in a sagittal suture; the well-developed nasalbones; the distinct and large incisors implanted in premaxillarybones, which take a full share in bounding the fore part of the gape;the two-fanged molar teeth with triangular and serrated crowns, not exceeding five on each side in each jaw; and the existence of adeciduous dentition--its close relation with the Seals. While, onthe other hand, the produced rostral form of the snout, thelong symphysis, and the low coronary process of the mandible areapproximations to the cetacean form of those parts. 

The scapula resembles that of the cetacean _Hyperoodon_, but thesupra-spinous fossa is larger and more seal-like; as is the humerus, which differs from that of the _Cetacea_ in presenting true articularsurfaces for the free jointing of the bones of the fore-arm. In theapparently complete absence of hinder limbs, and in the characters ofthe vertebral column, the _Zeuglodon_ lies on the cetacean side of theboundary line; so that, upon the whole, the Zeuglodonts, transitionalas they are, are conveniently retained in the cetacean order. And thepublication, in 1864, of M. Van Beneden's memoir on the Miocene andPliocene _Squalodon_, furnished much better means than anatomistspreviously possessed of fitting in another link of the chain whichconnects the existing _Cetacea_ with _Zeuglodon_. The teeth are muchmore numerous, although the molars exhibit the zeuglodont double fang;the nasal bones are very short, and the upper surface of the rostrumpresents the groove, filled up during life by the prolongation of theethmoidal cartilage, which is so characteristic of the majority of the_Cetacea_. 

It appears to me that, just as among the existing _Carnivora_, the walruses and the eared seals are intercalary forms between thefissipede Carnivora and the ordinary seals, so the Zeuglodonts areintercalary between the _Carnivora_, as a whole, and the _Cetacea_. Whether the Zeuglodonts are also linear types in their relation tothese two groups cannot be ascertained, until we have more definiteknowledge than we possess at present, respecting the relations in timeof the _Carnivora_ and _Cetacea_. 

Thus far we have been concerned with the intercalary types whichoccupy the intervals between Families or Orders of the same class; butthe investigations which have been carried on by Professor Gegenbaur, Professor Cope, and myself into the structure and relations of theextinct reptilian forms of the _Ornithoscelida_ (or _Dinosauria_ and_Compsognatha_) have brought to light the existence of intercalaryforms between what have hitherto been always regarded as very distinctclasses of the vertebrate sub-kingdom, namely _Reptilia_ and _Aves_. Whatever inferences may, or may not, be drawn from the fact, it is nowan established truth that, in many of these _Ornithoscelida_, the hindlimbs and the pelvis are much more similar to those of Birds thanthey are to those of Reptiles, and that these Bird-reptiles, orReptile-birds, were more or less completely bipedal. 

When I addressed you in 1862, I should have been bold indeed had Isuggested that palaeontology would before long show us the possibilityof a direct transition from the type of the lizard to that of theostrich. At the present moment we have, in the _Ornithoscelida_, theintercalary type, which proves that transition to be something morethan a possibility; but it is very doubtful whether any of the generaof _Ornithoscelida_ with which we are at present acquainted are theactual linear types by which the transition from the lizard to thebird was effected. These, very probably, are still hidden from us inthe older formations. 

Let us now endeavour to find some cases of true linear types, or formswhich are intermediate between others because they stand in a directgenetic relation to them. It is no easy matter to find clear andunmistakable evidence of filiation among fossil animals; for, in orderthat such evidence should be quite satisfactory, it is necessary thatwe should be acquainted with all the most important features of theorganization of the animals which are supposed to be thus related, andnot merely with the fragments upon which the genera and species of thepalaeontologist are so often based. M. Gaudry has arranged the speciesof _Hyaenidae, Proboscidea, Rhinocerotidae_, and _Equidae_ in theirorder of filiation from their earliest appearance in the Miocene epochto the present time, and Professor Rütimeyer has drawn up similarschemes for the Oxen and other _Ungulata_--with what, I am disposedto think, is a fair and probable approximation to the order of nature. But, as no one is better aware than these two learned, acute, andphilosophical biologists, all such arrangements must be regarded asprovisional, except in those cases in which, by a fortunate accident, large series of remains are obtainable from a thick and wide-spreadseries of deposits. It is easy to accumulate probabilities--hardto make out some particular case in such a way that it will standrigorous criticism. 

After much search, however, I think that such a case is to be made outin favour of the pedigree of the Horses. 

The genus _Equus_ is represented as far back as the latter part of theMiocene epoch; but in deposits belonging to the middle of thatepoch its place is taken by two other genera, _Hipparion_ and_Anchitherium_[1]; and, in the lowest Miocene and upper Eocene, onlythe last genus occurs. A species of _Anchitherium_ was referred byCuvier to the _Palaeotheria_ under the name of _P. Aurelianense_. Thegrinding-teeth are in fact very similar in shape and in pattern, andin the absence of any thick layer of cement, to those of some speciesof _Palaeotherium_, especially Cuvier's _Palaeotherium minus_, whichhas been formed into a separate genus, _Plagiolophus_, by Pomel. Butin the fact that there are only six full-sized grinders in the lowerjaw, the first premolar being very small; that the anterior grindersare as large as, or rather larger than, the posterior ones; that thesecond premolar has an anterior prolongation; and that the posteriormolar of the lower jaw has, as Cuvier pointed out, a posterior lobe ofmuch smaller size and different form, the dentition of _Anchitherium_departs from the type of the _Palaeotherium_, and approaches that ofthe Horse. 

[Footnote 1: Hermann von Meyer gave the name of _Anchitherium_ to _A. Ezguerrae_; and in his paper on the subject he takes great painsto distinguish the latter as the type of a new genus, from Cuvier's_Palaeotherium d'Orléans. _ But it is precisely the _Palaeotheriumd'Orléans_ which is the type of Christol's genus _Hipparitherium_; andthus, though _Hipparitherium_ is of later date than _Anchitherium_, it seemed to me to have a sort of equitable right to recognitionwhen this address was written. On the whole, however, it seems mostconvenient to adopt _Anchitherium_. ]

Again, the skeleton of _Anchitherium_ is extremely equine. M. Christolgoes so far as to say that the description of the bones of thehorse, or the ass, current in veterinary works, would fit those of_Anchitherium. _ And, in a general way, this may be true enough; butthere are some most important differences, which, indeed, are justlyindicated by the same careful observer. Thus the ulna is completethroughout, and its shaft is not a mere rudiment, fused into one bonewith the radius. There are three toes, one large in the middle and onesmall on each side. The femur is quite like that of a horse, and hasthe characteristic fossa above the external condyle. In the BritishMuseum there is a most instructive specimen of the leg-bones, showingthat the fibula was represented by the external malleolus and by aflat tongue of bone, which extends up from it on the outer side of thetibia, and is closely ankylosed with the latter bone. [1] The hind toesare three, like those of the fore leg; and the middle metatarsal boneis much less compressed from side to side than that of the horse. 

[Footnote 1: I am indebted to M. Gervais for a specimen whichindicates that the fibula was complete, at any rate, in some cases;and for a very interesting ramus of a mandible, which shows that, asin the _Palaeotheria_, the hindermost milk-molar of the lower jawwas devoid of the posterior lobe which exists in the hindermost truemolar. ]

In the _Hipparion_ the teeth nearly resemble those of the Horses, though the crowns of the grinders are not so long; like those of theHorses, they are abundantly coated with cement. The shaft of theulna is reduced to a mere style ankylosed throughout nearly its wholelength with the radius, and appearing to be little more than a ridgeon the surface of the latter bone until it is carefully examined. Thefront toes are still three, but the outer ones are more slender thanin _Anchitherium_, and their hoofs smaller in proportion to that ofthe middle toe: they are, in fact, reduced to mere dew-claws, and donot touch the ground. In the leg, the distal end of the fibula is socompletely united with the tibia that it appears to be a mere processof the latter bone, as in the Horses. 

In _Equus_, finally, the crowns of the grinding-teeth become longer, and their patterns are slightly modified; the middle of the shaft ofthe ulna usually vanishes, and its proximal and distal ends ankylosewith the radius. The phalanges of the two outer toes in each footdisappear, their metacarpal and metatarsal bones being left as the"splints. "

The _Hipparion_ has large depressions on the face in front of theorbits, like those for the "larmiers" of many ruminants; but tracesof these are to be seen in some of the fossil horses from the SewalikHills; and, as Leidy's recent researches show, they are preserved in_Anchitherium_. 

When we consider these facts, and the further circumstance thatthe Hipparions, the remains of which have been collected in immensenumbers, were subject, as M. Gaudry and others have pointed out, toa great range of variation, it appears to me impossible to resist theconclusion that the types of the _Anchitherium_, of the _Hipparion_, and of the ancient Horses constitute the lineage of the modern Horses, the _Hipparion_ being the intermediate stage between the other two, and answering; to B in my former illustration. 

The process by which the _Anchitherium_ has been converted into_Equus_ is one of specialization, or of more and more completedeviation from what might be called the average form of an ungulatemammal. In the Horses, the reduction of some parts of the limbs, together with the special modification of those which are left, iscarried to a greater extent than in any other hoofed mammals. Thereduction is less and the specialization is less in the _Hipparion_, and still less in the _Anchitherium_; but yet, as compared withother mammals, the reduction and specialization of parts in the_Anchitherium_ remain great. 

Is it not probable then, that, just as in the Miocene epoch, we findan ancestral equine form less modified than _Equus_, so, if we goback to the Eocene epoch, we shall find some quadruped related to the_Anchitherium_, as _Hipparion_ is related to _Equus_, and consequentlydeparting less from the average form?

I think that this desideratum is very nearly, if not quite, suppliedby _Plagiolophus_, remains of which occur abundantly in some partsof the Upper and Middle Eocene formations. The patterns ofthe grinding-teeth of _Plagiolophus_ are similar to those of_Anchitherium_, and their crowns are as thinly covered with cement;but the grinders diminish in size forwards, and the last lower molarhas a large hind lobe, convex outwards and concave inwards, as in_Palceotherium_. The ulna is complete and much larger than in anyof the _Equidae_, while it is more slender than in most of the true_Palaeotheria_; it is fixedly united, but not ankylosed, with theradius. There are three toes in the fore limb, the outer ones beingslender, but less attenuated than in the _Equidae_. The femur is morelike that of the _Palaeotheria_ than that of the horse, and has onlya small depression above its outer condyle in the place of the greatfossa which is so obvious in the _Equidae_. The fibula is distinct, but very slender, and its distal end is ankylosed with the tibia. There are three toes on the hind foot having similar proportions tothose on the fore foot. The principal metacarpal and metatarsal bonesare flatter than they are in any of the _Equidae_; and the metacarpalbones are longer than the metatarsals, as in the _Palaeotheria_. 

In its general form, _Plagiolophus_ resembles a very small and slenderhorse[1], and is totally unlike the reluctant, pig-like creaturedepicted in Cuvier's restoration of his _Palaeotherium minus_ in the"Os semens Fossils. "

[Footnote 1: Such, at least, is the conclusion suggested by theproportions of the skeleton figured by Cuvier and De Blainville; butperhaps something between a Horse and an Agouti would be nearest themark. ]

It would be hazardous to say that _Plagiolophus_ is the exact radicalform of the Equine quadrupeds; but I do not think there can be anyreasonable doubt that the latter animals have resulted from themodification of some quadruped similar to _Plagiolophus_. 

We have thus arrived at the Middle Eocene formation, and yethave traced back the Horses only to a three-toed stock; but thesethree-toed forms, no less than the Equine quadrupeds themselves, present rudiments of the two other toes which appertain to what Ihave termed the "average" quadruped. If the expectation raised bythe splints of the Horses that, in some ancestor of the Horses, thesesplints would be found to be complete digits, has been verified, we are furnished with very strong reasons for looking for a noless complete verification of the expectation that the three-toed. _Plagiolophus_-like "avus" of the horse must have had a five-toed"atavus" at some earlier period. 

No such five-toed "atavus, " however, has yet made its appearance amongthe few middle and older Eocene _Mammalia_ which are known. 

Another series of closely affiliated forms, though the evidence theyafford is perhaps less complete than that of the Equine series, is presented to us by the _Dichobune_ of the Eocene epoch, the_Cainotherium_ of the Miocene, and the _Tragulidae_, or so-called"Musk-deer, " of the present day. 

The _Tragulidae_ have no incisors in the upper jaw, and only sixgrinding-teeth on each side of each jaw; while the canine is moved upto the outer incisor, and there is a diastema, in the lower jaw. Thereare four complete toes on the hind foot, but the middle metatarsalsusually become, sooner or later, ankylosed into a cannon bone. Thenavicular and the cuboid unite, and the distal end of the fibula isankylosed with the tibia. 

In _Cainotherium_ and _Dichobune_ the upper incisors are fullydeveloped. There are seven grinders; the teeth form a continuousseries without a diastema. The metatarsals, the navicular and cuboid, and the distal end of the fibula, remain free. In the _Cainotherium_, also, the second metacarpal is developed, but is much shorter than thethird, while the fifth is absent or rudimentary. In this respect itresembles _Anoplotherium secundarium_. This circumstance, and thepeculiar pattern of the upper molars in _Cainotherium_, lead meto hesitate in considering it as the actual ancestor of the modern_Tragulidae_. If _Dichobune_ has a four-toed fore foot (though I aminclined to suspect that it resembles _Cainotherium_), it will be abetter representative of the oldest forms of the Traguline series; but_Dichobune_ occurs in the Middle-Eocene, and is, in fact, the oldestknown artiodactyle mammal. Where, then, must we look for its five-toedancestor?

If we follow down other lines of recent and tertiary _Ungulata_, thesame question presents itself. The Pigs are traceable back throughthe Miocene epoch to the Upper Eocene, where they appear in thetwo well-marked forms of _Hyopotamus_ and _Chaeropotamus_; but_Hyopotamus_ appears to have had only two toes. 

Again, all the great groups of the Ruminants, the _Bovidae, Antilopidae, Camelopardalidae_, and _Cervidae_, are represented inthe Miocene epoch, and so are the Camels. The Upper Eocene_Anoplotherium_, which is intercalary between the Pigs and the_Tragulidae_, has only two or, at most, three toes. Among the scantymammals of the Lower Eocene formation we have the perissodactyle_Ungulata_ represented by _Coryphodon, Hyra-cotherium_, and_Pliolophus_. Suppose for a moment, for the sake of following outthe argument, that _Pliolophus_ represents the primary stock of thePerissodactyles, and _Dichobune_ that of the Artiodactyles (thoughI am far from saying that such is the case), then we find, in theearliest fauna of the Eocene epoch to which our investigations carryus, the two divisions of the _Ungulata_ completely differentiated, andno trace of any common stock of both, or of five-toed predecessors toeither. With the case of the Horses before us, justifying a belief inthe production of new animal forms by modification of old ones, I seeno escape from the necessity of seeking for these ancestors of the_Ungulata_ beyond the limits of the Tertiary formations. 

I could as soon admit special creation, at once, as suppose that thePerissodactyles and Artiodactyles had no five-toed ancestors. And whenwe consider how large a portion of the Tertiary period elapsed before_Anchitherium_ was converted into _Equus_, it is difficult to escapethe conclusion that a large proportion of time anterior to theTertiary period must have been expended in converting the common stockof the _Ungulata_ into Perissodactyles and Artiodactyles. 

The same moral is inculcated by the study of every other order ofTertiary monodelphous _Mammalia_. Each of these orders is representedin the Miocene epoch: the Eocene formation, as I have already said, contains _Cheiroptera, Insectivora, Rodentia, Ungulata, Carnivora, _and _Cetacea_. But the _Cheiroptera_ are extreme modifications of the_Insectivora_, just as the _Cetacea_ are extreme modifications ofthe Carnivorous type; and therefore it is to my mind incrediblethat monodelphous _Insectivora_ and _Carnivora_ should not have beenabundantly developed, along with _Ungulata_, in the Mesozoic epoch. But if this be the case, how much further back must we go to find thecommon stock of the monodelphous _Mammalia_? As to the _Didelphia_, if we may trust the evidence which seems to be afforded by theirvery scanty remains, a Hypsiprymnoid form existed at the epoch of theTrias, contemporaneously with a Carnivorous form. At the epoch of theTrias, therefore, the _Marsupialia_ must have, already existed longenough to have become differentiated into carnivorous and herbivorousforms. But the _Monotremata_ are lower forms than the _Didelphia, _which last are intercalary between the _Ornithodelphia_ and the_Monodelphia_. To what point of the Palaeozoic epoch, then, must we, upon any rational estimate, relegate the origin of the _Monotremata_?

The investigation of the occurrence of the classes and of the ordersof the _Sauropsida_ in time points in exactly the same direction. If, as there is great reason to believe, true Birds existed in theTriassic epoch, the ornithoscelidous forms by which Reptiles passedinto Birds must have preceded them. In fact there is, even at present, considerable ground for suspecting the existence of _Dinosauria_ inthe Permian formations; but, in that case, lizards must be of stillearlier date. And if the very small differences which are observablebetween the _Crocodilia_ of the older Mesozoic formations and those ofthe present day furnish any sort of approximation towards an estimateof the average rate of change among the _Sauropsida_, it is almostappalling to reflect how far back in Palaeozoic times we must go, before we can hope to arrive at that common stock from which the_Crocodilia, Lacertilia, Ornithoscelida_, and _Plesiosauria_, whichhad attained so great a development in the Triassic epoch, must havebeen derived. 

The _Amphibia_ and _Pisces_ tell the same story. There is not asingle class of vertebrated animals which, when it first appears, is represented by analogues of the lowest known members of the sameclass. Therefore, if there is any truth in the doctrine of evolution, every class must be vastly older than the first record of itsappearance upon the surface of the globe. But if considerations ofthis kind compel us to place the origin of vertebrated animals ata period sufficiently distant from the Upper Silurian, in which thefirst Elasmobranchs and Ganoids occur, to allow of the evolution ofsuch fishes as these from a Vertebrate as simple as the _Amphioxus_, I can only repeat that it is appalling to speculate upon the extent towhich that origin must have preceded the epoch of the first recordedappearance of vertebrate life. 

Such is the further commentary which I have to offer upon thestatement of the chief results of palaeontology which I formerlyventured to lay before you. 

But the growth of knowledge in the interval makes me conscious ofan omission of considerable moment in that statement, inasmuch as itcontains no reference to the bearings of palaeontology upon the theoryof the distribution of life; nor takes note of the remarkable mannerin which the facts of distribution, in present and past times, accordwith the doctrine of evolution, especially in regard to land animals. 

That connection between palaeontology and geology and the presentdistribution of terrestrial animals, which so strikingly impressedMr. Darwin, thirty years ago, as to lead him to speak of a "law ofsuccession of types, " and of the wonderful relationship on the samecontinent between the dead and the living, has recently received muchelucidation from the researches of Gaudry, of Rütimeyer, of Leidy, and of Alphonse Milne-Edwards, taken in connection with theearlier labours of our lamented colleague Falconer; and it has beeninstructively discussed in the thoughtful and ingenious work of Mr. Andrew Murray "On the Geographical Distribution of Mammals. "[1]

[Footnote 1: The paper "On the Form and Distribution of theLand-tracts during the Secondary and Tertiary Periods respectively;and on the Effect upon Animal Life which great Changes in GeographicalConfiguration have probably produced, " by Mr. Searles V. Wood, jun. , which was published in the _Philosophical Magazine_, in 1862, wasunknown to me when this Address was written. It is well worthy of themost careful study. ]

I propose to lay before you, as briefly as I can, the ideas to which along consideration of the subject has given rise in my own mind. 

If the doctrine of evolution is sound, one of its immediateconsequences clearly is, that the present distribution of lifeupon the globe is the product of two factors, the one being thedistribution which obtained in the immediately preceding epoch, andthe other the character and the extent of the changes which have takenplace in physical geography between the one epoch and the other; or, to put the matter in another way, the Fauna and Flora of any givenarea, in any given epoch, can consist only of such forms of life asare directly descended from those which constituted the Fauna andFlora of the same area in the immediately preceding epoch, unless thephysical geography (under which I include climatal conditions) ofthe area has been so altered as to give rise to immigration of livingforms from some other area. 

The evolutionist, therefore, is bound to grapple with the followingproblem whenever it is clearly put before him:--Here are the Faunae ofthe same area during successive epochs. Show good cause for believingeither that these Faunae have been derived from one another by gradualmodification, or that the Faunae have reached the area in questionby migration from some area in which they have undergone theirdevelopment. 

I propose to attempt to deal with this problem, so far as it isexemplified by the distribution of the terrestrial _Vertebrata_, and Ishall endeavour to show you that it is capable of solution in a senseentirely favourable to the doctrine of evolution. 

I have elsewhere[1] stated at length the reasons which lead me torecognize four primary distributional provinces for the terrestrial_Vertebrata_ in the present world, namely, --first, the _Novozelanian_, or New-Zealand province; secondly, the _Australian_ province, including Australia, Tasmania, and the Negrito Islands; thirdly, _Austro-Columbia_, or South America _plus_ North America as far asMexico; and fourthly, the rest of the world, or _Arctogaea_, in whichprovince America north of Mexico constitutes one sub-province, Africasouth of the Sahara a second, Hindostan a third, and the remainder ofthe Old World, a fourth. 

[Footnote 1: "On the Classification and Distribution of theAlectoromorphae;" Proceedings of the Zoological Society, 1868. ]

Now the truth which Mr. Darwin perceived and promulgated as "the lawof the succession of types" is, that, in all these provinces, theanimals found in Pliocene or later deposits are closely affined tothose which now inhabit the same provinces; and that, conversely, theforms characteristic of other provinces are absent. North and SouthAmerica, perhaps, present one or two exceptions to the last rule, butthey are readily susceptible of explanation. Thus, in Australia, thelater Tertiary mammals are marsupials (possibly with exception of theDog and a Rodent or two, as at present). In Austro-Columbia the laterTertiary fauna exhibits numerous and varied forms of PlatyrrhineApes, Rodents, Cats, Dogs, Stags, _Edentata_, and Opossums; but, asat present, no Catarrhine Apes, no Lemurs, no _Insectivora_, Oxen, Antelopes, Rhinoceroses, nor _Didelphia_ other than Opossums. And inthe wide-spread Arctogaeal province, the Pliocene and later mammalsbelong to the same groups as those which now exist in the province. The law of succession of types, therefore, holds good for the presentepoch as compared with its predecessor. Does it equally well apply tothe Pliocene fauna when we compare it with that of the Miocene epoch?By great good fortune, an extensive mammalian fauna of the latterepoch has now become known, in four very distant portions of theArctogaeal province which do not differ greatly in latitude. ThusFalconer and Cautley have made known the fauna of the sub-Himalayasand the Perim Islands; Gaudry that of Attica; many observers that ofCentral Europe and France; and Leidy that of Nebraska, on the easternflank of the Rocky Mountains. The results are very striking. The totalMiocene fauna comprises many genera, and species of Catarrhine Apes, of Bats, of _Insectivora_; of Arctogaeal types of _Rodentia_; of_Proboscidea_; of equine, rhinocerotic, and tapirine quadrupeds; ofcameline, bovine, antilopine, cervine, and traguline Ruminants; ofPigs and Hippopotamuses; of _Viverridae_ and _Hyaenidae_ among other_Carnivora_; with _Edentata_ allied to the Arctogaeal _Orycteropus_and _Manis_, and not to the Austro-Columbian Edentates. The only typepresent in the Miocene, but absent in the existing, fauna of EasternArctogaea, is that of the _Didelphidae_, which, however, remains inNorth America. 

But it is very remarkable that while the Miocene fauna of theArctogaeal province, as a whole, is of the same character as theexisting fauna of the same province, as a whole, the componentelements of the fauna were differently associated. In the Mioceneepoch, North America possessed Elephants, Horses, Rhinoceroses, anda great number and variety of Ruminants and Pigs, which are absentin the present indigenous fauna; Europe had its Apes, Elephants, Rhinoceroses, Tapirs, Musk-deer, Giraffes, Hyaenas, great Cats, Edentates, and Opossum-like Marsupials, which have equally vanishedfrom its present fauna; and in Northern India, the African types ofHippopotamuses, Giraffes, and Elephants were mixed up with whatare now the Asiatic types of the latter, and with Camels, andSemnopithecine and Pithecine Apes of no less distinctly Asiatic forms. 

In fact the Miocene mammalian fauna of Europe and the Himalayanregions contains, associated together, the types which are at presentseparately located in the South-African and Indian sub-provinces ofArctogaea. Now there is every reason to believe, on other grounds, that both Hindostan, south of the Ganges, and Africa, south of theSahara, were separated by a wide sea from Europe and North Asia duringthe Middle and Upper Eocene epochs. Hence it becomes highly probablethat the well-known similarities, and no less remarkable differences, between the present Faunae of India and South Africa have arisenin some such fashion as the following. Some time during the Mioceneepoch, possibly when the Himalayan chain was elevated, the bottom ofthe nummulitic sea was upheaved and converted into dry land, in thedirection of a line extending from Abyssinia to the mouth of theGanges. By this means, the Dekhan on the one hand, and South Africaon the other, became connected with the Miocene dry land and with oneanother. The Miocene mammals spread gradually over this intermediatedry land; and if the condition of its eastern and western ends offeredas wide contrasts as the valleys of the Ganges and Arabia do now, manyforms which made their way into Africa must have been different fromthose which reached the Dekhan, while others might pass into boththese sub-provinces. 

That there was a continuity of dry land between Europe and NorthAmerica during the Miocene epoch, appears to me to be a necessaryconsequence of the fact that many genera of terrestrial mammals, suchas _Castor_, _Hystrix_, _Elephas_, _Mastodon_, _Equus_, _Hipparion_, _Anchitherium_, _Rhinoceros_, _Cervus_, _Amphicyon_, _Hyaenarctos_, and _Machairodus_, are common to the Miocene formations of the twoareas, and have as yet been found (except perhaps _Anchitherium_) inno deposit of earlier age. Whether this connection took place by theeast, or by the west, or by both sides of the Old World, there is atpresent no certain evidence, and the question is immaterial to thepresent argument; but, as there are good grounds for the belief thatthe Australian province and the Indian and South-African sub-provinceswere separated by sea from the rest of Arctogaea before the Mioceneepoch, so it has been rendered no less probable, by the investigationsof Mr. Carrick Moore and Professor Duncan, that Austro-Columbia wasseparated by sea from North America during a large part of the Mioceneepoch. 

It is unfortunate that we have no knowledge of the Miocene mammalianfauna of the Australian and Austro-Columbian provinces; but, seeingthat not a trace of a Platyrrhine Ape, of a Procyonine Carnivore, of acharacteristically South-American Rodent, of a Sloth, an Armadillo, or an Ant-eater has yet been found in Miocene deposits of Arctogaea, Icannot doubt that they already existed in the Miocene Austro-Columbianprovince. 

Nor is it less probable that the characteristic types of AustralianMammalia were already developed in that region in Miocene times. 

But Austro-Columbia presents difficulties from which Australia isfree; _Camelidae_ and _Tapiridae_ are now indigenous in South Americaas they are in Arctogaea; and, among the Pliocene Austro-Columbianmammals, the Austro-Columbian genera _Equus_, _Mastodon_, and_Machairodus_ are numbered. Are these Postmiocene immigrants, orPraemiocene natives?

Still more perplexing are the strange and interesting forms _Toxodon_, _Macrauchenia_, _Typotherium_, and a new Anoplotherioid mammal(_Homalodotherium_) which Dr. Cunningham sent over to me some time agofrom Patagonia. I confess I am strongly inclined to surmise that theselast, at any rate, are remnants of the population of Austro-Columbiabefore the Miocene epoch, and were not derived from Arctogaea by wayof the north and east. 

The fact that this immense fauna of Miocene Arctogaea is now fullyand richly represented only in India and in South Africa, while itis shrunk and depauperized in North Asia, Europe, and North America, becomes at once intelligible, if we suppose that India and SouthAfrica had but a scanty mammalian population before the Mioceneimmigration, while the conditions were highly favourable to the newcomers. It is to be supposed that these new regions offered themselvesto the Miocene Ungulates, as South America and Australia offeredthemselves to the cattle, sheep, and horses of modern colonists. But, after these great areas were thus peopled, came the Glacial epoch, during which the excessive cold, to say nothing of depression andice-covering, must have almost depopulated all the northern parts ofArctogaea, destroying all the higher mammalian forms, except thosewhich, like the Elephant and Rhinoceros, could adjust their coats tothe altered conditions. Even these must have been driven away from thegreater part of the area; only those Miocene mammals which had passedinto Hindostan and into South Africa would escape decimation by suchchanges in the physical geography of Arctogaea. And when the northernhemisphere passed into its present condition, these lost tribes of theMiocene Fauna were hemmed by the Himalayas, the Sahara, the Red Sea, and the Arabian deserts, within their present boundaries. Now, on thehypothesis of evolution, there is no sort of difficulty in admittingthat the differences between the Miocene forms of the mammalianFauna and those which exist at present are the results of gradualmodification; and, since such differences in distribution as obtainare readily explained by the changes which have taken place in thephysical geography of the world since the Miocene epoch, it is clearthat the result of the comparison of the Miocene and present Fauna isdistinctly in favour of evolution. Indeed I may go further. I maysay that the hypothesis of evolution explains the facts of Miocene, Pliocene, and Recent distribution, and that no other supposition evenpretends to account for them. It is, indeed, a conceivable suppositionthat every species of Rhinoceros and every species of Hyaena, in thelong succession of forms between the Miocene and the present species, was separately constructed out of dust, or out of nothing, bysupernatural power; but until I receive distinct evidence of the fact, I refuse to run the risk of insulting any sane man by supposing thathe seriously holds such a notion. 

Let us now take a step further back in time, and inquire into therelations between the Miocene Fauna and its predecessor of the UpperEocene formation. 

Here it is to be regretted that our materials for forming a judgmentare nothing to be compared in point of extent or variety with thosewhich are yielded by the Miocene strata. However, what we do knowof this Upper Eocene Fauna of Europe gives sufficient positiveinformation to enable us to draw some tolerably safe inferences. Ithas yielded representatives of _Insectivora_, of _Cheiroptera_, of _Rodentia_, of _Carnivora_, of artiodactyle and perissodactyle_Ungulata_, and of opossum-like Marsupials. No Australian type ofMarsupial has been discovered in the Upper Eocene strata, nor anyEdentate mammal. The genera (except perhaps in the case of some of the_Insectivora_, _Cheiroptera_, and _Rodentia_) are different from thoseof the Miocene epoch, but present a remarkable general similarity tothe Miocene and recent genera. In several cases, as I have alreadyshown, it has now been clearly made out that the relation betweenthe Eocene and Miocene forms is such that the Eocene form is the lessspecialized; while its Miocene ally is more so, and the specializationreaches its maximum in the recent forms of the same type. 

So far as the Upper Eocene and the Miocene Mammalian Faunae arecomparable, their relations are such as in no way to oppose thehypothesis that the older are the progenitors of the more recentforms, while, in some cases, they distinctly favour that hypothesis. The period in time and the changes in physical geography representedby the nummulitic deposits are undoubtedly very great, while theremains of Middle Eocene and Older Eocene Mammals are comparativelyfew. The general facies of the Middle Eocene Fauna, however, is quitethat of the Upper. The Older Eocene pre-nummulitic mammalian Faunacontains Bats, two genera of _Carnivora_, three genera of _Ungulata_(probably all perissodactyle), and a didelphid Marsupial; all theseforms, except perhaps the Bat and the Opossum, belong to generawhich are not known to occur out of the Lower Eocene formation. The_Coryphodon_ appears to have been allied to the Miocene and laterTapirs, while _Pliolophus_, in its skull and dentition, curiouslypartakes of both artiodactyle and perissodactyle characters; the thirdtrochanter upon its femur, and its three-toed hind foot, however, appear definitely to fix its position in the latter division. 

There is nothing, then, in what is known of the older Eocene mammalsof the Arctogaeal province to forbid the supposition that they stoodin an ancestral relation to those of the Calcaire Grossier and theGypsum of the Paris basin, and that our present fauna, therefore, isdirectly derived from that which already existed in Arctogaea at thecommencement of the Tertiary period. But if we now cross the frontierbetween the Cainozoic and the Mesozoic faunae, as they are preservedwithin the Arctogaeal area, we meet with an astounding change, andwhat appears to be a complete and unmistakable break in the line ofbiological continuity. 

Among the twelve or fourteen species of _Mammalia_ which are said tohave been found in the Purbecks, not one is a member of the orders_Cheiroptera_, _Rodentia_, _Ungulata_, or _Carnivora_, which are sowell represented in the Tertiaries. No _Insectivora_ are certainlyknown, nor any opossum-like Marsupials. Thus there is a vast negativedifference between the Cainozoic and the Mesozoic mammalian faunaeof Europe. But there is a still more important positive difference, inasmuch as all these Mammalia appear to be Marsupials belonging toAustralian groups, and thus appertaining to a different distributionalprovince from the Eocene and Miocene marsupials, which areAustro-Columbian. So far as the imperfect materials which exist enablea judgment to be formed, the same law appears to have held good forall the earlier Mesozoic _Mammalia_. Of the Stonesfield slate mammals, one, _Amphitherium_, has a definitely Australian character; one, _Phascolotherium_, may be either Dasyurid or Didelphine; of a third, _Stereognathus_, nothing can at present be said. The two mammals ofthe Trias, also, appear to belong to Australian groups. 

Every one is aware of the many curious points of resemblance betweenthe marine fauna of the European Mesozoic rocks and that which nowexists in Australia. But if there was this Australian facies aboutboth the terrestrial and the marine faunae of Mesozoic Europe, andif there is this unaccountable and immense break between the faunaof Mesozoic and that of Tertiary Europe, is it not a very obvioussuggestion that, in the Mesozoic epoch, the Australian provinceincluded Europe, and that the Arctogaeal province was contained withinother limits? The Arctogaeal province is at present enormous, whilethe Australian is relatively small. Why should not these proportionshave been different during the Mesozoic epoch?

Thus I am led to think that by far the simplest and most rationalmode of accounting for the great change which took place in the livinginhabitants of the European area at the end of the Mesozoic epoch, isthe supposition that it arose from a vast alteration of the physicalgeography of the globe; whereby an area long tenanted by Cainozoicforms was brought into such relations with the European area thatmigration from the one to the other became possible, and took place ona great scale. 

This supposition relieves us, at once, from the difficulty in which wewere left, some time ago, by the arguments which I used to demonstratethe necessity of the existence of all the great types of the Eoceneepoch in some antecedent period. 

It is this Mesozoic continent (which may well have lain in theneighbourhood of what are now the shores of the North Pacific Ocean)which I suppose to have been occupied by the Mesozoic _Monodelphia_;and it is in this region that I conceive they must have gone throughthe long series of changes by which they were specialized into theforms which we refer to different orders. I think it very probablethat what is now South America may have received the characteristicelements of its mammalian fauna during the Mesozoic epoch; and therecan be little doubt that the general nature of the change which tookplace at the end of the Mesozoic epoch in Europe was the upheaval ofthe eastern and northern regions of the Mesozoic sea-bottom into awestward extension of the Mesozoic continent, over which the mammalianfauna, by which it was already peopled, gradually spread. Thisinvasion of the land was prefaced by a previous invasion of theCretaceous sea by modern forms of mollusca and fish. 

It is easy to imagine how an analogous change might come about in theexisting world. There is, at present, a great difference between thefauna of the Polynesian Islands and that of the west coast of America. The animals which are leaving their spoils in the deposits now formingin these localities are widely different. Hence, if a gradualshifting of the deep sea, which at present bars migration between theeasternmost of these islands and America, took place to the westward, while the American side of the sea-bottom was gradually upheaved, the palaeontologist of the future would find, over the Pacific area, exactly such a change as I am supposing to have occurred in theNorth-Atlantic area at the close of the Mesozoic period. An Australianfauna would be found underlying an American fauna, and the transitionfrom the one to the other would be as abrupt as that between the Chalkand lower Tertiaries; and as the drainage-area of the newly formedextension of the American continent gave rise to rivers and lakes, themammals mired in their mud would differ from those of like deposits onthe Australian side, just as the Eocene mammals differ from those ofthe Purbecks. 

How do similar reasonings apply to the other great change oflife--that which took place at the end of the Palaeozoic period?

In the Triassic epoch, the distribution of the dry land and ofterrestrial vertebrate life appears to have been, generally, similarto that which existed in the Mesozoic epoch; so that the Triassiccontinents and their faunae seem to be related to the Mesozoic landsand their faunae, just as those of the Miocene epoch are related tothose of the present day. In fact, as I have recently endeavouredto prove to the Society, there was an Arctogaeal continent and anArctogaeal province of distribution in Triassic times as there is now;and the _Sauropsida_ and _Marsupialia_ which constituted thatfauna were, I doubt not, the progenitors of the _Sauropsida_ and_Marsupialia_ of the whole Mesozoic epoch. 

Looking at the present terrestrial fauna of Australia, it appears tome to be very probable that it is essentially a remnant of thefauna of the Triassic, or even of an earlier, age[1]; in whichcase Australia must at that time have been in continuity with theArctogaeal continent. 

[Footnote 1: Since this Address was read, Mr. Krefft has sent usnews of the discovery in Australia of a fresh-water fish of strangelyPalaeozoic aspect, and apparently a Ganoid intermediate between_Dipterus_ and _Lepidosiren_. ]

But now comes the further inquiry. Where was the highly differentiatedSauropsidan fauna of the Trias in Palaeozoic times? The suppositionthat the Dinosaurian, Crocodilian, Dicynodontian, and Plesiosauriantypes were suddenly created at the end of the Permian epoch maybe dismissed, without further consideration, as a monstrous andunwarranted assumption. The supposition that all these types wererapidly differentiated out of _Lacertilia_, in the time represented bythe passage from the Palaeozoic to the Mesozoic formation, appears tome to be hardly more credible, to say nothing of the indications ofthe existence of Dinosaurian forms in the Permian rocks which havealready been obtained. 

For my part, I entertain no sort of doubt that the Reptiles, Birds, and Mammals of the Trias are the direct descendants of Reptiles, Birds, and Mammals which existed in the latter part of the Palaeozoicepoch, but not in any area of the present dry land which has yet beenexplored by the geologist. 

This may seem a bold assumption, but it will not appear unwarrantableto those who reflect upon the very small extent of the earth's surfacewhich has hitherto exhibited the remains of the great Mammalian faunaof the Eocene times. In this respect, the Permian land Vertebratefauna appears to me to be related to the Triassic much as the Eoceneis to the Miocene. Terrestrial reptiles have been found in Permianrocks only in three localities; in some spots of France, and recentlyof England, and over a more extensive area in Germany. Who can supposethat the few fossils yet found in these regions give any sufficientrepresentation of the Permian fauna?

It may be said that the Carboniferous formations demonstrate theexistence of a vast extent of dry land in the present dry-land area, and that the supposed terrestrial Palaeozoic Vertebrate Fauna ought tohave left its remains in the Coal-measures, especially as there is nowreason to believe that much of the coal was formed by the accumulationof spores and sporangia on dry land. But if we consider the mattermore closely, I think that this apparent objection loses its force. Itis clear that, during the Carboniferous epoch, the vast area of landwhich is now covered by Coal-measures must have been undergoing agradual depression. The dry land thus depressed must, therefore, haveexisted, as such, before the Carboniferous epoch--in other words, inDevonian times--and its terrestrial population may never have beenother than such as existed during the Devonian, or some previousepoch, although much higher forms may have been developed elsewhere. 

Again, let me say that I am making no gratuitous assumption ofinconceivable changes. It is clear that the enormous area of Polynesiais, on the whole, an area over which depression has taken place toan immense extent; consequently a great continent, or assemblage ofsubcontinental masses of land, must have existed at some former time, and that at a recent period, geologically speaking, in the area ofthe Pacific. But if that continent had contained Mammals, some ofthem must have remained to tell the tale; and as it is well known thatthese islands have no indigenous _Mammalia_, it is safe to assume thatnone existed. Thus, midway between Australia and South America, eachof which possesses an abundant and diversified mammalian fauna, a massof land, which may have been as large as both put together, must haveexisted without a mammalian inhabitant. Suppose that the shores ofthis great land were fringed, as those of tropical Australia are now, with belts of mangroves, which would extend landwards on the oneside, and be buried beneath littoral deposits on the other side, as depression went on; and great beds of mangrove lignite mightaccumulate over the sinking land. Let upheaval of the whole now takeplace, in such a manner as to bring the emerging land into continuitywith the South-American or Australian continent, and, in course oftime, it would be peopled by an extension of the fauna of one of thesetwo regions--just as I imagine the European Permian dry land to havebeen peopled. 

I see nothing whatever against the supposition that distributionalprovinces of terrestrial life existed in the Devonian epoch, inasmuchas M. Barrande has proved that they existed much earlier. I am awareof no reason for doubting that, as regards the grades of terrestriallife contained in them, one of these may have been related to anotheras New Zealand is to Australia, or as Australia is to India, at thepresent day. Analogy seems to me to be rather in favour of, thanagainst, the supposition that while only Ganoid fishes inhabited thefresh waters of our Devonian land, _Amphibia_ and _Reptilia_, or evenhigher forms, may have existed, though we have not yet found them. Theearliest Carboniferous _Amphibia_ now known, such as _Anthracosaurus_, are so highly specialized that I can by no means conceive that theyhave been developed out of piscine forms in the interval between theDevonian and the Carboniferous periods, considerable as that is. And Itake refuge in one of two alternatives: either they existed in our ownarea during the Devonian epoch and we have simply not yet found them;or they formed part of the population of some other distributionalprovince of that day, and only entered our area by migration at theend of the Devonian epoch. Whether _Reptilia_ and _Mammalia_ existedalong with them is to me, at present, a perfectly open question, whichis just as likely to receive an affirmative as a negative answer fromfuture inquirers. 

Let me now gather together the threads of my argumentation into theform of a connected hypothetical view of the manner in which thedistribution of living and extinct animals has been brought about. 

I conceive that distinct provinces of the distribution of terrestriallife have existed since the earliest period at which that life isrecorded, and possibly much earlier; and I suppose, with Mr. Darwin, that the progress of modification of terrestrial forms is more rapidin areas of elevation than in areas of depression. I take it to becertain that Labyrinthodont _Amphibia_ existed in the distributionalprovince which included the dry land depressed during theCarboniferous epoch; and I conceive that, in some other distributionalprovinces of that day, which remained in the condition of stationaryor of increasing dry land, the various types of the terrestrial_Sauropsida_ and of the _Mammalia_ were gradually developing. 

The Permian epoch marks the commencement of a new movement of upheavalin our area, which attained its maximum in the Triassic epoch, whendry land existed in North America, Europe, Asia, and Africa, as itdoes now. Into this great new continental area the Mammals, Birds, andReptiles developed during the Palaeozoic epoch spread, and formed thegreat Triassic Arctogaeal province. But, at the end of the Triassicperiod, the movement of depression recommenced in our area, thoughit was doubtless balanced by elevation elsewhere; modification anddevelopment, checked in the one province, went on in that "elsewhere;"and the chief forms of Mammals, Birds, and Reptiles, as we know them, were evolved and peopled the Mesozoic continent. I conceive Australiato have become separated from the continent as early as the end ofthe Triassic epoch, or not much later. The Mesozoic continent must, Iconceive, have lain to the east, about the shores of the North Pacificand Indian Oceans; and I am inclined to believe that it continuedalong the eastern side of the Pacific area to what is now the provinceof Austro-Columbia, the characteristic fauna of which is probably aremnant of the population of the latter part of this period. 

Towards the latter part of the Mesozoic period the movement ofupheaval around the shores of the Atlantic once more recommenced, and was very probably accompanied by a depression around those of thePacific. The Vertebrate fauna elaborated in the Mesozoic continentmoved westward and took possession of the new lands, which graduallyincreased in extent up to, and in some directions after, the Mioceneepoch. 

It is in favour of this hypothesis, I think, that it is consistentwith the persistence of a general uniformity in the positions of thegreat masses of land and water. From the Devonian period, or earlier, to the present day, the four great oceans, Atlantic, Pacific, Arctic, and Antarctic, may have occupied their present positions, and onlytheir coasts and channels of communication have undergone an incessantalteration. And, finally, the hypothesis I have put before yourequires no supposition that the rate of change in organic life hasbeen either greater or less in ancient times than it is now; norany assumption, either physical or biological, which has not itsjustification in analogous phenomena of existing nature. 

I have now only to discharge the last duty of my office, which isto thank you, not only for the patient attention with which you havelistened to me so long to-day, but also for the uniform kindness withwhich, for the past two years, you have rendered my endeavoursto perform the important, and often laborious, functions of yourPresident a pleasure instead of a burden. 

X. 

MR. DARWIN'S CRITICS. [1]

The gradual lapse of time has now separated us by more than a decadefrom the date of the publication of the "Origin of Species"--andwhatever may be thought or said about Mr. Darwin's doctrines, or themanner in which he has propounded them, this much is certain, that, in a dozen years, the "Origin of Species" has worked as completea revolution in biological science as the "Principia" did inastronomy--and it has done so, because, in the words of Helmholtz, itcontains "an essentially new creative thought. "[2]

[Footnote 1: 1. "Contributions to the Theory of Natural Selection. "By A. R. Wallace. 1870. --2. "The Genesis of Species. " By St. GeorgeMivart, F. R. S. Second Edition. 1871. --3. "Darwin's Descent of Man. "_Quarterly Review_, July 1871. ]

[Footnote 2: Helmholtz: "Ueber das Ziel und die Fortschritte derNaturwissenschaft. " Eröffnungsrede für die Naturforscherversammlung zuInnsbruck. 1869. ]

And as time has slipped by, a happy change has come over Mr. Darwin'scritics. The mixture of ignorance and insolence which, at first, characterized a large proportion of the attacks with which hewas assailed, is no longer the sad distinction of anti-Darwiniancriticism. Instead of abusive nonsense, which merely discredited itswriters, we read essays, which are, at worst, more or less intelligentand appreciative; while, sometimes, like that which appeared in the_North British Review_ for 1867, they have a real and permanent value. 

The several publications of Mr. Wallace and Mr. Mivart containdiscussions of some of Mr. Darwin's views, which are worthy ofparticular attention, not only on account of the acknowledgedscientific competence of these writers, but because they exhibit anattention to those philosophical questions which underlie all physicalscience, which is as rare as it is needful. And the same may be saidof an article in the _Quarterly Review_ for July 1871, the comparisonof which with an article in the same Review for July 1860, is perhapsthe best evidence which can be brought forward of the change which hastaken place in public opinion on "Darwinism. "

The Quarterly Reviewer admits "the certainty of the action of naturalselection" (p. 49); and further allows that there is an _à priori_probability in favour of the evolution of man from some lower animalform, if these lower animal forms themselves have arisen by evolution. 

Mr. Wallace and Mr. Mivart go much further than this. They are asstout believers in evolution as Mr. Darwin himself; but Mr. Wallacedenies that man can have been evolved from a lower animal by thatprocess of natural selection which he, with Mr. Darwin, holds to havebeen sufficient for the evolution of all animals below man; whileMr. Mivart, admitting that natural selection has been one of theconditions of the evolution of the animals below man, maintains thatnatural selection must, even in their case, have been supplemented by"some other cause"--of the nature of which, unfortunately, he doesnot give us any idea. Thus Mr. Mivart is less of a Darwinian than Mr. Wallace, for he has less faith in the power of natural selection. Buthe is more of an evolutionist than Mr. Wallace, because Mr. Wallacethinks it necessary to call in an intelligent agent--a sort ofsupernatural Sir John Sebright--to produce even the animal frame ofman; while Mr. Mivart requires no Divine assistance till he comes toman's soul. 

Thus there is a considerable divergence between Mr. Wallace and Mr. Mivart. On the other hand, there are some curious similarities betweenMr. Mivart and the Quarterly Reviewer, and these are sometimes soclose, that, if Mr. Mivart thought it worth while, I think hemight make out a good case of plagiarism against the Reviewer, whostudiously abstains from quoting him. 

Both the Reviewer and Mr. Mivart reproach Mr. Darwin with being, "likeso many other physicists, " entangled in a radically false metaphysicalsystem, and with setting at nought the first principles of bothphilosophy and religion. Both enlarge upon the necessity of a soundphilosophical basis, and both, I venture to add, make a conspicuousexhibition of its absence. The Quarterly Reviewer believes that man"differs more from an elephant or a gorilla than do these from thedust of the earth on which they tread, " and Mr. Mivart has expressedthe opinion that there is more difference between man and an ape thanthere is between an ape and a piece of granite. [1]

[Footnote 1: See the _Tablet_ for March 11, 1871. ]

And even when Mr. Mivart (p. 86) trips in a matter of anatomy, andcreates a difficulty for Mr. Darwin out of a supposed close similaritybetween the eyes of fishes and cephalopods, which (as Gegenbaur andothers have clearly shown) does not exist, the Quarterly Revieweradopts the argument without hesitation (p. 66). 

There is another important point, however, in which it is hard to saywhether Mr. Mivart diverges from the Quarterly Reviewer or not. 

The Reviewer declares that Mr. Darwin has, "with needless opposition, set at nought the first principles of both philosophy and religion"(p. 90). 

It looks, at first, as if this meant, that Mr. Darwin's views beingfalse, the opposition to "religion" which flows from them must beneedless. But I suspect this is not the right view of the meaning ofthe passage, as Mr. Mivart, from whom the Quarterly Reviewer plainlydraws so much inspiration, tells us that "the consequences which havebeen drawn from evolution, whether exclusively Darwinian or not, tothe prejudice of religion, by no means follow from it, and are in factillegitimate" (p. 5). 

I may assume, then, that the Quarterly Reviewer and Mr. Mivart admitthat there is no necessary opposition between "evolution, whetherexclusively Darwinian or not, " and religion. But then, what do theymean by this last much-abused term? On this point the QuarterlyReviewer is silent. Mr. Mivart, on the contrary, is perfectlyexplicit, and the whole tenor of his remarks leaves no doubt that by"religion" he means theology; and by theology, that particular varietyof the great Proteus, which is expounded by the doctors of the RomanCatholic Church, and held by the members of that religious communityto be the sole form of absolute truth and of saving faith. 

According to Mr. Mivart, the greatest and most orthodox authoritiesupon matters of Catholic doctrine agree in distinctly asserting"derivative creation" or evolution; "and thus their teachingsharmonize with all that modern science can possibly require" (p. 305). 

I confess that this bold assertion interested me more than anythingelse in Mr. Mivart's book. What little knowledge I possessed ofCatholic doctrine, and of the influence exerted by Catholic authorityin former times, had not led me to expect that modern science waslikely to find a warm welcome within the pale of the greatest and mostconsistent of theological organizations. 

And my astonishment reached its climax when I found Mr. Mivart citingFather Suarez as his chief witness in favour of the scientific freedomenjoyed by Catholics--the popular repute of that learned theologianand subtle casuist not being such as to make his works a likely placeof refuge for liberality of thought. But in these days, when JudasIscariot and Robespierre, Henry VIII. And Catiline, have all beenshown to be men of admirable virtue, far in advance of their age, and consequently the victims of vulgar prejudice, it was obviouslypossible that Jesuit Suarez might be in like case. And, spurred by Mr. Mivart's unhesitating declaration, I hastened to acquaint myselfwith such of the works of the great Catholic divine as bore uponthe question, hoping, not merely to acquaint myself with the trueteachings of the infallible Church, and free myself of an unjustprejudice; but, haply, to enable myself, at a pinch, to put someProtestant bibliolater to shame, by the bright example of Catholicfreedom from the trammels of verbal inspiration. 

I regret to say that my anticipations have been cruelly disappointed. But the extent to which my hopes have been crushed can only be fullyappreciated by citing, in the first place, those passages of Mr. Mivart's work by which they were excited. In his introductory chapterI find the following passages:--

"The prevalence of this theory [of evolution] need alarm no one, forit is, without any doubt, perfectly consistent with the strictest andmost orthodox Christian[1] theology" (p. 5). 

[Footnote 1: It should be observed that Mr. Mivart employs the term"Christian" as if it were the equivalent of "Catholic. "]

"Mr. Darwin and others may perhaps be excused if they have not devotedmuch time to the study of Christian philosophy; but they have no rightto assume or accept without careful examination, as an unquestionedfact, that in that philosophy there is a necessary antagonism betweenthe two ideas 'creation' and 'evolution, ' as applied to organic forms. 

"It is notorious and patent to all who choose to seek, that manydistinguished Christian thinkers have accepted, and do accept, bothideas, i. E. Both 'creation' and 'evolution. '

"As much as ten years ago an eminently Christian writer observed: 'Thecreationist theory does not necessitate the perpetual search aftermanifestations of miraculous power and perpetual "catastrophes. "Creation is not a miraculous interference with the laws of nature, butthe very institution of those laws. Law and regularity, not arbitraryintervention, was the patristic ideal of creation. With this notionthey admitted, without difficulty, the most surprising origin ofliving creatures, provided it took place by _law_. They held thatwhen God said, "Let the waters produce, " "Let the earth produce, " Heconferred forces on the elements of earth and water, which enabledthem naturally to produce the various species of organic beings. Thispower, they thought, remains attached to the elements throughout alltime. ' The same writer quotes St. Augustin and St. Thomas Aquinas, to the effect that, 'in the institution of nature, we do not look formiracles, but for the laws of nature, ' And, again, St. Basil speaksof the continued operation of natural laws in the production of allorganisms. 

"So much for the writers of early and mediaeval times. As to thepresent day, the author can confidently affirm that there are manyas well versed in theology as Mr. Darwin is in his own departmentof natural knowledge, who would not be disturbed by the thoroughdemonstration of his theory. Nay, they would not even be in the leastpainfully affected at witnessing the generation of animals of complexorganization by the skilful artificial arrangement of natural forces, and the production, in the future, of a fish by means analogous tothose by which we now produce urea. 

"And this because they know that the possibility of such phenomena, though by no means actually foreseen, has yet been fully providedfor in the old philosophy centuries before Darwin, or even centuriesbefore Bacon, and that their place in the system can be at onceassigned them without even disturbing its order or marring itsharmony. 

"Moreover, the old tradition in this respect has never been abandoned, however much it may have been ignored or neglected by some modernwriters. In proof of this, it may be observed that perhaps nopost-mediaeval theologian has a wider reception amongst Christiansthroughout the world than Suarez, who has a separate section[1] inopposition to those who maintain the distinct creation of the variouskinds--or substantial forms--of organic life" (pp. 19-21). 

[Footnote 1: Suarez; Metaphysica. Edition Vivés. Paris, 1868, vol. I. Disput. Xv. § 2. ]

Still more distinctly does Mr. Mivart express himself, in the samesense, in his last chapter, entitled "Theology and Evolution" (pp. 302-5). 

"It appears, then, that Christian thinkers are perfectly free toaccept the general evolution theory. But are there any theologicalauthorities to justify this view of the matter?

"Now, considering how extremely recent are these biologicalspeculations, it might hardly be expected _à priori_ that writers ofearlier ages should have given expression to doctrines harmonizingin any degree with such very modern views; nevertheless, this iscertainly the case, and it would be easy to give numerous examples. It will be better, however, to cite one or two authorities of weight. Perhaps no writer of the earlier Christian ages could be quoted whoseauthority is more generally recognized than that of St. Augustin. Thesame may be said of the mediaeval period for St. Thomas Aquinas: andsince the movement of Luther, Suarez may be taken as an authority, widely venerated, and one whose orthodoxy has never been questioned. 

"It must be borne in mind that for a considerable time even afterthe last of these writers no one had disputed the generally receivedbelief as to the small age of the world, or at least of the kinds ofanimals and plants inhabiting it. It becomes, therefore, much morestriking if views formed under such a condition of opinion are foundto harmonize with modern ideas concerning 'Creation' and organic Life. 

"Now St. Augustin insists in a very remarkable manner on the merelyderivative sense in which God's creation of organic forms is tobe understood; that is, that God created them by conferring on thematerial world the power to evolve them under suitable conditions. "

Mr. Mivart then cites certain passages from St. Augustin, St. ThomasAquinas, and Cornelius à Lapide, and finally adds:--

 "As to Suarez, it will be enough to refer to Disp. Xv. Sec. 2, No. 9, p. 508, t. I. Edition Vivés, Paris; also Nos. 13--15. Many other references to the same effect could easily be given, but these may suffice. 

 "It is then evident that ancient and most venerable theological authorities distinctly assert _derivative_ creation, and thus their teachings harmonize with all that modern science can possibly require. "

It will be observed that Mr. Mivart refers solely to Suarez'sfifteenth Disputation, though he adds, "Many other references to thesame effect could easily be given. " I shall look anxiously for thesereferences in the third edition of the "Genesis of Species. " For thepresent, all I can say is, that I have sought in vain, either inthe fifteenth Disputation, or elsewhere, for any passage in Suarez'swritings which, in the slightest degree, bears out Mr. Mivart's viewsas to his opinions. [1]

[Footnote 1: The edition of Suarez's "Disputationes" from which thefollowing citations are given, is Birckmann's, in two volumes folio, and is dated 1630. ]

The title of this fifteenth Disputation is "De causa formalisubstantiali, " and the second section of that Disputation (to whichMr. Mivart refers) is headed, "Quomodo possit forma substantialisfieri in materia et ex materia?"

The problem which Suarez discusses in this place may be popularlystated thus: According to the scholastic philosophy every natural bodyhas two components--the one its "matter" (_materia prima_), the otherits "substantial form" (_forma substantialis_). Of these the matteris everywhere the same, the matter of one body being indistinguishablefrom the matter of any other body. That which differentiates any onenatural body from all others is its substantial form, which inheresin the matter of that body, as the human soul inheres in the matterof the frame of man, and is the source of all the activities and otherproperties of the body. 

Thus, says Suarez, if water is heated, and the source of heat is thenremoved, it cools again. The reason of this is that there is a certain"_intimius principium_" in the water, which brings it back to thecool condition when the external impediment to the existence of thatcondition is removed. This _intimius principium_, is the "substantialform" of the water. And the substantial form of the water is not onlythe cause (_radix_) of the coolness of the water, but also of itsmoisture, of its density, and of all its other properties. 

It will thus be seen that "substantial forms" play nearly the samepart in the scholastic philosophy as "forces" do in modern science;the general tendency of modern thought being to conceive all bodies asresolvable into material particles and forces, in virtue of which lastthese particles assume those dispositions and exercise those powerswhich are characteristic of each particular kind of matter. 

But the Schoolmen distinguished two kinds of substantial forms, the one spiritual and the other material. The former division isrepresented by the human soul, the _anima rationalis_; and they affirmas a matter, not merely of reason, but of faith, that every human soulis created out of nothing, and by this act of creation is endowed withthe power of existing for all eternity, apart from the _materiaprima_ of which the corporeal frame of man is composed. And the _animarationalis_, once united with the _materia prima_ of the body, becomes its substantial form, and is the source of all the powers andfaculties of man--of all the vital and sensitive phenomena which heexhibits--just as the substantial form of water is the source of allits qualities. 

The "material substantial forms" are those which inform all othernatural bodies except that of man; and the object of Suarez in thepresent Disputation, is to show that the axiom "_ex nihilo nihilfit_, " though not true of the substantial form of man, is true of thesubstantial forms of all other bodies, the endless mutations of whichconstitute the ordinary course of nature. The origin of the difficultywhich he discusses is easily comprehensible. Suppose a piece of brightiron to be exposed to the air. The existence of the iron depends onthe presence within it of a substantial form, which is the cause ofits properties, e. G. Brightness, hardness, weight. But, by degrees, the iron becomes converted into a mass of rust, which is dull, andsoft, and light, and, in all other respects, is quite different fromthe iron. As, in the scholastic view, this difference is due to therust being informed by a new substantial form, the grave problemarises, how did this new substantial form come into being? Has it beencreated? or has it arisen by the power of natural causation? If theformer hypothesis is correct, then the axiom, "_ex nihilo nihil fit_, "is false, even in relation to the ordinary course of nature, seeingthat such mutations of matter as imply the continual origin of newsubstantial forms are occurring every moment. But the harmonization ofAristotle with theology was as dear to the Schoolmen, as the smoothingdown the differences between Moses and science is to our BroadChurchmen, and they were proportionably unwilling to contradict oneof Aristotle's fundamental propositions. Nor was their objection toflying in the face of the Stagirite likely to be lessened by the factthat such flight landed them in flat Pantheism. 

So Father Suarez fights stoutly for the second hypothesis; and I quotethe principal part of his argumentation as an exquisite specimen ofthat speech which is a "darkening of counsel. "

 "13. Secundo de omnibus aliis formis substantialibus (sc. Materialibus) dicendum est non fieri proprie ex nihilo, sed ex potentia praejacentis materiae educi: ideoque in effectione harum formarum nil fieri contra illud axioma, _Ex nihila nihil fit_, si recte intelligatur. Haec assertio sumitur ex Aristotele 1. Physicorum per totum et libro 7. Metaphyss. Et ex aliis authoribus, quos statim referam. Et declaratur breviter, nam fieri ex nihilo duo dicit, unum est fieri absolute et simpliciter, aliud est quod talis effectio fit ex nihilo. Primum propriè dicitur de re subsistente, quia ejus est fieri, cujus est esse: id autem proprie quod subsistit et habet esse; nam quod alteri adjacet, potius est quo aliud est. Ex hac ergo parte, formae substantiales materiales non fiunt ex nihilo, quia proprie non fiunt. Atque hanc rationem reddit Divus Thomas I parte, quaestione 45, articulo 8, et quaestione 90, articulo 2, et ex dicendis magis explicabitur. Sumendo ergo ipsum _fieri_ in hac proprietate et rigore, sic fieri ex nihilo est fieri secundum se totum, id est nulla sui parte praesupposita, ex quo fiat. Et hac ratione res naturales dum de novo fiunt, non fiunt ex nihilo, quia fiunt ex praesupposita materia, ex qua componuntur, et ita non fiunt, secundum se totae, sed secundum aliquid sui. Formae autem harum rerum, quamvis revera totam suam entitatem de novo accipiant, quam antea non habebant, quia vero ipsae non fiunt, ut dictum est, ideo neque ex nihilo fiunt. Attamen, quia latiori modo sumendo verbum illud _fieri_ negari non potest: quia forma facta sit, eo modo quo nunc est, et antea non erat, ut etiam probat ratio dubitandi posita in principio sectionis, ideo addendum est, sumpto _fieri_ in hac amplitudine, fieri ex nihilo non tamen negare habitudinem materialis causea intrinsecè componentis id quod fit, sed etiam habitudinem causae materialis per se causantis et sustentantis formam quae fit, seu confit. Diximus enim in superioribus materiam et esse causam compositi et formae dependentis ab ilia: ut res ergo dicatur ex nihilo fieri uterque modus causalitatis negari debet; et eodem sensu accipiendum est illud axioma, ut sit verum: _Ex nihilo nihil fit_, scilicet virtute agentis naturalis et finiti nihil fieri, nisi ex praesupposito subjecto per se concurrente, et ad compositum et ad formam, si utrumque suo modo ab eodem agente fiat. Ex his ergo rectè concluditur, formas substantiales materiales non fieri ex nihilo, quia fiunt ex materia, quae in suo genere per se concurrit, et influit ad esse, et fieri talium formarum; quia, sicut esse non possunt nisi affixae materiae, a qua sustententur in esse: ita nec fieri possunt, nisi earum effectio et penetratio in eadem materia sustentetur. Et haec est propria et per se differentia inter effectionem ex nihilo, et ex aliquo, propter quam, ut infra ostendemus, prior modus effciendi superat vim finitam naturaliam agentium, non vero posterior. 

 "14. Ex his etiam constat, proprie de his formis dici non creari, sed educi de potentia materiae. "[1]

[Footnote 1: Suarez, _loc. Cit_. Disput. Xv. § ii. ]

If I may venture to interpret these hard sayings, Suarez conceivesthat the evolution of substantial forms in the ordinary course ofnature, is conditioned not only by the existence of the _materiaprima_, but also by a certain "concurrence and influence" whichthat _materia_ exerts; and every new substantial form being thusconditioned, and in part, at any rate, caused, by a pre-existingsomething, cannot be said to be created out of nothing. 

But as the whole tenor of the context shows, Suarez applies thisargumentation merely to the evolution of material substantial formsin the ordinary course of nature. How the substantial forms of animalsand plants primarily originated, is a question to which, so far asI am able to discover, he does not so much as allude in his"Metaphysical Disputations. " Nor was there any necessity that heshould do so, inasmuch as he has devoted a separate treatise ofconsiderable bulk to the discussion of all the problems which ariseout of the account of the Creation which is given in the Book ofGenesis. And it is a matter of wonderment to me that Mr. Mivart, whosomewhat sharply reproves "Mr. Darwin and others" for not acquaintingthemselves with the true teachings of his Church, should allowhimself to be indebted to a heretic like myself for a knowledge ofthe existence of that "Tractatus de opere sex Dierum, " I in whichthe learned Father, of whom he justly speaks, as "an authority widelyvenerated, and whose orthodoxy has never been questioned, " directlyopposes all those opinions, for which Mr. Mivart claims the shelter ofhis authority. 

In the tenth and eleventh chapters of the first book of this treatise, Suarez inquires in what sense the word "day, " as employed in the firstchapter of Genesis, is to be taken. He discusses the views of Philoand of Augustin on this question, and rejects them. He suggests thatthe approval of their allegorizing interpretations by St. ThomasAquinas, merely arose out of St. Thomas's modesty, and his desire notto seem openly to controvert St. Augustin--"voluisse Divus Thomas prosua modestia subterfugere vim argumenti potius quam aperte Augustinuminconstantiae arguere. "

Finally, Suarez decides that the writer of Genesis meant that theterm "day" should be taken in its natural sense; and he winds upthe discussion with the very just and natural remark that "it isnot probable that God, in inspiring Moses to write a history of theCreation which was to be believed by ordinary people, would have madehim use language, the true meaning of which it is hard to discover, and still harder to believe. "[1]

[Footnote 1: "Tractatus de opere sex Dierum, seu de UniversiCreatione, quatenus sex diebus perfecta esse, in libro Genesis cap. I. Refertur, et praesertim de productioue hominis in statu innocentiae. "Ed. Birckmann, 1622. ]

And in chapter xii. 3, Suarez further observes:--

 "Ratio enim retinendi veram significationem diei naturalis est illa communis, quod verba Scripturae non sunt ad metaphoras transferenda, nisi vel necessitas cogit, vel ex ipsa scriptura constet, et maximè in historica narratione et ad instructionem fidei pertinente: sed haec ratio non minus cogit ad intelligendum propriè dierum numerum, quam diei qualitatem, QUIA NON MINUS UNO MODO QUAM ALIO DESTRUITUR SINCERITAS, IMO ET VERITAS HISTORIAE. Secundo hoc valde confirmant alia Scripturae loca, in quibus hi sex dies tanquam veri, et inter se distincti commemorantur, ut Exod. 20 dicitur, _Sex diebus operabis et facies omnia opera tua, septimo autem die Sabbatum Domini Dei tui est_. Et infra: _Sex enim diebus fecit Dominus caelum et terram et mare et omnia quae in eis sunt_, et idem repetitur in cap. 31. In quibus locis sermonis proprietas colligi potest tum ex aequiparatione, nam cum dicitur: _sex diebus operabis_, propriissimè intelligitur: tum quia non est verisimile, potuisse populum intelligere verba illa in alio sensu, et è contrario incredibile est, Deum in suis praeceptis tradendis illis verbis ad populum fuisse loquutum, quibus deciperetur, falsum sensum concipiendo, si Deus non per sex veros dies opera sua fecisset. "

These passages leave no doubt that this great doctor of the CatholicChurch, of unchallenged authority and unspotted orthodoxy, not onlydeclares it to be Catholic doctrine that the work of creation tookplace in the space of six natural days; but that he warmly repudiates, as inconsistent with our knowledge of the Divine attributes, thesupposition that the language which Catholic faith requires thebeliever to hold that God inspired, was used in any other sense thanthat which He knew it would convey to the minds of those to whom itwas addressed. 

And I think that in this repudiation Father Suarez will have thesympathy of every man of common uprightness, to whom it is certainly"incredible" that the Almighty should have acted in a manner which Hewould esteem dishonest and base in a man. 

But the belief that the universe was created in six natural days ishopelessly inconsistent with the doctrine of evolution, in so far asit applies to the stars and planetary bodies; and it can be made toagree with a belief in the evolution of living beings only by thesupposition that the plants and animals, which are said to have beencreated on the third, fifth, and six days, were merely the primordialforms, or rudiments, out of which existing plants and animals havebeen evolved; so that, on these days, plants and animals were notcreated actually, but only potentially. 

The latter view is that held by Mr. Mivart, who follows St. Augustin, and implies that he has the sanction of Suarez. But, in point of fact, the latter great light of orthodoxy takes no small pains to give themost explicit and direct contradiction to all such imaginations, asthe following passages prove. In the first place, as regards plants, Suarez discusses the problem:--

 "_Quomodo herba virens et caetera vegetabilia hoc [tertio] die fuerint producta. _[1]

 [Footnote 1: "Propter haec ergo sententia illa Augustini et propter nimiam obscuritatem et subtilitatem ejus difficilis creditu est: quia verisimile non est Deum inspirasse Moysi, ut historiam de creatione mundi ad fidem totius populi adeo necessariam per nomina dierum explicaret, quorum significatio vix inveniri et difficillime ab aliquo credi posset. " _(Loc. Cit. _ Lib. I. Cap. Xi. 42. )]

 "Praecipua enim difficultas hîc est, quam attingit Div. Thomas I, par. Qu. 69, art. 2, an haec productio plantarum hoc die facta intelligenda sit de productione ipsarum in proprio esse actuali et formali (ut sic rem explicerem) vel de productione tantum in semine et in potentia. Nam Divus Augustinus libro quinto Genes, ad liter, cap. 4 et 5 et libro 8, cap. 3, posteriorem partem tradit, dicens, terram in hoc die accepisse virtutem germinandi omnia vegetabilia quasi concepto omnium illorum semine, non tamen statim vegetabilia omnia produxisse. Quod primo suadet verbis illis capitis secundi. _In die quo fecit Deus coelum et terram et omne virgultum agri priusquam, germinaret_. Quomodo enim potuerunt virgulta fieri antequam terra germinaret nisi quia causaliter prius et quasi in radice, seu in semine facta sunt, et postea in actu producta? Secundo confirmari potest, quia verbum illud _germinet terra_ optimè exponitur potestativè ut sic dicam, id est, accipiat terra vim germinandi. Sicut in eodem capite dicitur _crescite et multiplicamini_. Tertio potest confirmari, quia actualis productio vegetabilium non tarn ad opus creationis, quam ad opus propagationis pertinet, quod postea factum est. Et hanc sententiam sequitur Eucherius lib. 1, in Gen. Cap. 11, et illi faveat Glossa, interli. Hugo. Et Lyran. Dum verbum _germinet_ dicto modo exponunt. NIHILOMINUS CONTRARIA SENTENTIA TENENDA EST: SCILICET, PRODUXISSE DEUM HOC DIE HERBAM, ARBORES, ET ALIA VEGETABILIA ACTU IN PROPRIA SPECIE ET NATURA. Haec est communis sententia Patrum. --Basil, homil. 5; Exaemer. Ambros. Lib. 3; Exaemer. Cap. 8, 11, et 16; Chrysost, homil. 5 in Gen. Damascene, lib. 2 de Fid. Cap. 10; Theodor. Cyrilli. Bedae, Glossae ordinariae et aliorum in Gen. Et idem sentit Divus Thomas, _supra_, solvens argumenta Augustini, quamvis propter reverentiam ejus quasi problematicè semper procedat. Denique idem sentiunt omnes qui in his operibus veram successionem et temporalem distinctionem agnoscant. "

Secondly, with respect to animals, Suarez is no less decided:--

 _De animalium ratione carentium productione quinto et sexto die facta. _[1]

 "32. Primo ergo nobis certum sit haec animantia non in virtute tantum aut in semine, sed actu, et in seipsis, facta fuisse his diebus in quibus facta narrantur. Quanquam Augustinus lib. 3, Gen. Ad liter, cap. 5 in sua persistens sententia contrarium sentire videatur. "

[Footnote 1: _Loc. Cit. _ Lib. II. Cap. Vii. Et viii. 1, 32, 35. ]

But Suarez proceeds to refute Augustin's opinions at great length, andhis final judgment may be gathered from the following passage:--

 "35. Tertio dicendum est, haec animalia omnia his diebus producta esse, IN PERFECTO STATU, IN SINGULIS INDIVIDUIS, SEU SPECIEBUS SUIS, JUXTA UNIUSCUJUSQUE NATURAM.... ITAQUE FUERUNT OMNIA CREATA INTEGRA ET OMNIBUS SUIS MEMBRIS PERFECTA. "

As regards the creation of animals and plants, therefore, it is clearthat Suarez, so far from "distinctly asserting derivative creation, "denies it as distinctly and positively as he can; that he is at muchpains to refute St. Augustin's opinions; that he does not hesitate toregard the faint acquiescence of St. Thomas Aquinas in the views ofhis brother saint as a kindly subterfuge on the part of Divus Thomas;and that he affirms his own view to be that which is supported by theauthority of the Fathers of the Church. So that, when Mr. Mivart tellsus that Catholic theology is in harmony with all that modern sciencecan possibly require; that "to the general theory of evolution, andto the special Darwinian form of it, no exception ... Need be taken onthe ground of orthodoxy;" and that "law and regularity, not arbitraryintervention, was the Patristic ideal of creation, " we have to choosebetween his dictum, as a theologian, and that of a great light ofhis Church, whom he himself declares to be "widely venerated as anauthority, and whose orthodoxy has never been questioned. "

But Mr. Mivart does not hesitate to push his attempt to harmonizescience with Catholic orthodoxy to its utmost limit; and, whileassuming that the soul of man "arises from immediate and directcreation, " he supposes that his body was "formed at first (as nowin each separate individual) by derivative, or secondary creation, through natural laws" (p. 331). 

This means, I presume, that an animal, having the corporeal form andbodily powers of man, may have been developed out of some lower formof life by a process of evolution; and that, after this anthropoidanimal had existed for a longer or shorter time, God made a soul bydirect creation, and put it into the manlike body, which, heretofore, had been devoid of that _anima rationalis_, which is supposed to beman's distinctive character. 

This hypothesis is incapable of either proof or disproof, andtherefore may be true; but if Suarez is any authority, it is notCatholic doctrine. "Nulla est in homine forma educta de potentiamateriae, "[1] is a dictum which is absolutely inconsistent with thedoctrine of the natural evolution of any vital manifestation of thehuman body. 

[Footnote 1: Disput. Xv. § x. No. 27. ]

Moreover, if man existed as an animal before he was provided with arational soul, he must, in accordance with the elementary requirementsof the philosophy in which Mr. Mivart delights, have possessed adistinct sensitive and vegetative soul, or souls. Hence, when the"breath of life" was breathed into the manlike animal's nostrils, he must have already been a living and feeling creature. But Suarezparticularly discusses this point, and not only rejects Mr. Mivart'sview, but adopts language of very theological strength regarding it. 

 "Possent praeterea his adjungi argumenta theologica, ut est illud quod sumitur ex illis verbis Genes. 2. _Formavit Deus hominem ex limo terrae et inspiravit in faciem ejus spiraculum vitae et factus est homo in animam viventem_: ille enim spiritus, quam Deus spiravit, anima rationalis fuit, et PER EADEM FACTUS EST HOMO VIVENS, ET CONSEQUENTER, ETIAM SENTIENS. 

 "Aliud est ex VIII. Synodo Generali quae est Constantinopolitana IV. Can. 11, qui sic habet. _Apparet quosdam in tantum impietatis venisse ut homines duas animas habere dogmatizent: talis igitur impietatis inventores et similes sapientes, cum Vetus et Novum Testamentum_ _omnesque Ecclesiae patres unam animam rationalem hominem habere asseverent, Sancta et universalis Synodus anathematizat_. "[1]

[Footnote 1: Disput. Xv. "De causa formali substantiali, " § x. No. 24. ]

Moreover, if the animal nature of man was the result of evolution, somust that of woman have been. But the Catholic doctrine, according toSuarez, is that woman was, in the strictest and most literal sense ofthe words, made out of the rib of man. 

 "Nihilominus sententia Catholica est, verba illa Scripturae esse ad literam intelligenda. AC PROINDE VERE, AC REALITER, TULISSE DEUM COSTAM ADAE, ET, EX ILLA, CORPUS EVAE FORMASSE. "[1]

[Footnote 1: "Tractatus de Opere, " Lib. III. "De hominis creatione, "cap. Ii. No. 3. ]

Nor is there any escape in the supposition that some woman existedbefore Eve, after the fashion of the Lilith of the rabbis;since Suarez qualifies that notion, along with some other Judaicimaginations, as simply "damnabilis. "[1]

[Footnote 1: Ibid. Lib. III. Cap. Iv. Nos. 8 and 9. ]

After the perusal of the "Tractatus de Opere" it is, in fact, impossible to admit that Suarez held any opinion respecting the originof species, except such as is consistent with the strictest and mostliteral interpretation of the words of Genesis. For Suarez, it isCatholic doctrine, that the world was made in six natural days. On thefirst of these days the _materia prima_ was made out of nothing, toreceive afterwards those "substantial forms" which moulded it intothe universe of things; on the third day, the ancestors of all livingplants suddenly came into being, full-grown, perfect, and possessed ofall the properties which now distinguish them; while, on the fifthand sixth days, the ancestors of all existing animals were similarlycaused to exist in their complete and perfect state, by the infusionof their appropriate material substantial forms into the matterwhich had already been created. Finally on the sixth day, the _animarationalis_--that rational and immortal substantial form which ispeculiar to man--was created out of nothing, and "breathed into" amass of matter which, till then, was mere dust of the earth, and soman arose. But the species man was represented by a solitary maleindividual, until the Creator took out one of his ribs and fashionedit into a female. 

This is the view of the "Genesis of Species, " held by Suarez to be theonly one consistent with Catholic faith: it is because he holds thisview to be Catholic that he does not hesitate to declare St. Augustinunsound, and St. Thomas Aquinas guilty of weakness, when the oneswerved from this view and the other tolerated the deviation. And, until responsible Catholic authority--say, for example, the Archbishopof Westminster--formally declares that Suarez was wrong, and thatCatholic priests are free to teach their flocks that the world was_not_ made in six natural days, and that plants and animals were _not_created in their perfect and complete state, but have been evolved bynatural processes through long ages from certain germs in which theywere potentially contained, I, for one, shall feel bound to believethat the doctrines of Suarez are the only ones which are sanctionedby Infallible Authority, as represented by the Holy Father and theCatholic Church. 

I need hardly add that they are as absolutely denied and repudiated byScientific Authority, as represented by Reason and Fact. The questionwhether the earth and the immediate progenitors of its present livingpopulation were made in six natural days or not, is no longer one uponwhich two opinions can be held. 

The fact that it did not so come into being stands upon as sound abasis as any fact of history whatever. It is not true that existingplants and animals came into being within three days of the creationof the earth out of nothing, for it is certain that innumerablegenerations of other plants and animals lived upon the earth beforeits present population. And when, Sunday after Sunday, men who professto be our instructors in righteousness read out the statement, "Insix days the Lord made heaven and earth, the sea, and all that in themis, " in innumerable churches, they are either propagating what theymay easily know, and, therefore, are bound to know, to be falsities;or, if they use the words in some non-natural sense, they fall belowthe moral standard of the much-abused Jesuit. 

Thus far the contradiction between Catholic verity and Scientificverity is complete and absolute, quite independently of the truth orfalsehood of the doctrine of evolution. But, for those who hold thedoctrine of evolution, all the Catholic verities about the creation ofliving beings must be no less false. For them, the assertion thatthe progenitors of all existing plants were made on the third day, ofanimals on the fifth and sixth days, in the forms they now present, issimply false. Nor can they admit that man was made suddenly out of thedust of the earth; while it would be an insult to ask an evolutionistwhether he credits the preposterous fable respecting the fabricationof woman to which Suarez pins his faith. If Suarez has rightly statedCatholic doctrine, then is evolution utter heresy. And such I believeit to be. In addition to the truth of the doctrine of evolution, indeed, one of its greatest merits in my eyes, is the fact that itoccupies a position of complete and irreconcilable antagonism to thatvigorous and consistent enemy of the highest intellectual, moral, andsocial life of mankind--the Catholic Church. No doubt, Mr. Mivart, like other putters of new wine into old bottles, is actuated bymotives which are worthy of respect, and even of sympathy; but hisattempt has met with the fate which the Scripture prophesies for allsuch. 

Catholic theology, like all theologies which are based upon theassumption of the truth of the account of the origin of things givenin the Book of Genesis, being utterly irreconcilable with the doctrineof evolution, the student of science, who is satisfied that theevidence upon which the doctrine of evolution rests, is incomparablystronger and better than that upon which the supposed authority ofthe Book of Genesis rests, will not trouble himself further with thesetheologies, but will confine his attention to such arguments againstthe view he holds as are based upon purely scientific data--andby scientific data I do not merely mean the truths of physical, mathematical, or logical science, but those of moral and metaphysicalscience. For, by science, I understand all knowledge which rests uponevidence and reasoning of a like character to that which claims ourassent to ordinary scientific propositions. And if any one is able tomake good the assertion that his theology rests upon valid evidenceand sound reasoning, then it appears to me that such theology willtake its place as a part of science. 

The present antagonism between theology and science does not arisefrom any assumption by the men of science that all theology mustnecessarily be excluded from science; but simply because they areunable to allow that reason and morality have two weights and twomeasures; and that the belief in a proposition, because authoritytells you it is true, or because you wish to believe it, which is ahigh crime and misdemeanour when the subject matter of reasoning isof one kind, becomes under the _alias_ of "faith" the greatest of allvirtues, when the subject matter of reasoning is of another kind. 

The Bishop of Brechin said well the other day:--"Liberality inreligion--I do not mean tender and generous allowances for themistakes of others--is only unfaithfulness to truth. "[1] And, withthe same qualification, I venture to paraphrase the Bishop's dictum:"Ecclesiasticism in science is only unfaithfulness to truth. "

[Footnote 1: Charge at the Diocesan Synod of Brechin. _Scotsman_, Sept. 14, 1871. ]

Elijah's great question, "Will you serve God or Baal? Choose ye, " isuttered audibly enough in the ears of every one of us as we come tomanhood. Let every man who tries to answer it seriously, ask himselfwhether he can be satisfied with the Baal of authority, and with allthe good things his worshippers are promised in this world and thenext. If he can, let him, if he be so inclined, amuse himself withsuch scientific implements as authority tells him are safe and willnot cut his fingers; but let him not imagine he is, or can be, both atrue son of the Church and a loyal soldier of science. 

And, on the other hand, if the blind acceptance of authority appearsto him in its true colours, as mere private judgment _in excelsis_, and if he have the courage to stand alone, face to face with the abyssof the Eternal and Unknowable, let him be content, once for all, notonly to renounce the good things promised by "Infallibility, " but evento bear the bad things which it prophesies; content to follow reasonand fact in singleness and honesty of purpose, wherever they may lead, in the sure faith that a hell of honest men will, to him, be moreendurable than a paradise full of angelic shams. 

Mr. Mivart asserts that "without a belief in a personal God, there isno religion worthy of the name. " This is a matter of opinion. Butit may be asserted, with less reason to fear contradiction, that theworship of a personal God, who, on Mr. Mivart's hypothesis, musthave used language studiously calculated to deceive His creatures andworshippers, is "no religion worthy of the name. " "Incredibile est, Deum illis verbis ad populum fuisse locutum quibus deciperetur, " is averdict in which, for once, Jesuit casuistry concurs with the healthymoral sense of all mankind. 

Having happily got quit of the theological aspect of evolution, thesupporter of that great truth who turns to the scientific objectionswhich are brought against it by recent criticism, finds, to hisrelief, that the work before him is greatly lightened by thespontaneous retreat of the enemy from nine-tenths of the territorywhich he occupied ten years ago. Even the Quarterly Reviewer not onlyabstains from venturing to deny that evolution has taken place, but heopenly admits that Mr. Darwin has forced on men's minds "a recognitionof the probability, if not more, of evolution, and of the certainty ofthe action of natural selection" (p. 49). 

I do not quite see, myself, how, if the action of natural selection is_certain_, the occurrence of evolution is only _probable_; inasmuch asthe development of a new species by natural selection is, so far asit goes, evolution. However, it is not worth while to quarrel withthe precise terms of a sentence which shows that the high watermark ofintelligence among those most respectable of Britons, the readers ofthe _Quarterly Review_, has now reached such a level that the nexttide may lift them easily and pleasantly on the once-dreaded shore ofevolution. Nor, having got there, do they seem likely to stop, untilthey have reached the inmost heart of that great region, and acceptedthe ape ancestry of, at any rate, the body of man. For the Revieweradmits that Mr. Darwin can be said to have established:

 "That if the various kinds of lower animals have been evolved one from the other by a process of natural generation or evolution, then it becomes highly probable, _à priori_, that man's body has been similarly evolved; but this, in such a case, becomes equally probable from the admitted fact that he is an animal at all" (p. 65). 

From the principles laid down in the last sentence, it would followthat if man were constructed upon a plan as different from that of anyother animal as that of a sea-urchin is from that of a whale, itwould be "equally probable" that he had been developed from some otheranimal as it is now, when we know that for every bone, muscle, tooth, and even pattern of tooth, in man, there is a corresponding bone, muscle, tooth, and pattern of tooth, in an ape. And this shows oneof two things--either that the Quarterly Reviewer's notions ofprobability are peculiar to himself; or, that he has such anoverpowering faith in the truth of evolution, that no extent ofstructural break between one animal and another is sufficient todestroy his conviction that evolution has taken place. 

But this by the way. The importance of the admission that there isnothing in man's physical structure to interfere with his having beenevolved from an ape, is not lessened because it is grudgingly made andinconsistently qualified. And instead of jubilating over the extent ofthe enemy's retreat, it will be more worth while to lay siege to hislast stronghold--the position that there is a distinction in kindbetween the mental faculties of man and those of brutes; and that, inconsequence of this distinction in kind, no gradual progress fromthe mental faculties of the one to those of the other can have takenplace. 

The Quarterly Reviewer entrenches himself within formidable-lookingpsychological outworks, and there is no getting at him withoutattacking them one by one. 

He begins by laying down the following proposition: "'Sensation' isnot 'thought, ' and no amount of the former would constitute the mostrudimentary condition of the latter, though sensations supply theconditions for the existence of 'thought' or 'knowledge'" (p. 67). 

This proposition is true, or not, according to the sense in which theword "thought" is employed. Thought is not uncommonly used in a senseco-extensive with consciousness, and, especially, with those statesof consciousness we call memory. If I recall the impression made by acolour or an odour, and distinctly remember blueness or muskiness, Imay say with perfect propriety that I "think of" blue or musk; and, so long as the thought lasts, it is simply a faint reproduction of thestate of consciousness to which I gave the name in question, when itfirst became known to me as a sensation. 

Now, if that faint reproduction of a sensation, which we call thememory of it, is properly termed a thought, it seems to me to bea somewhat forced, proceeding to draw a hard and fast line ofdemarcation between thoughts and sensations. If sensations arenot rudimentary thoughts, it may be said that some thoughts arerudimentary sensations. No amount of sound constitutes an echo, butfor all that no one would pretend that an echo is something of totallydifferent nature from a sound. Again, nothing can be looser, or moreinaccurate, than the assertion that "sensations supply the conditionsfor the existence of thought or knowledge. " If this implies thatsensations supply the conditions for the existence of our memory ofsensations or of our thoughts about sensations, it is a truism whichit is hardly worth while to state so solemnly. If it implies thatsensations supply anything else, it is obviously erroneous. And if itmeans, as the context would seem to show it does, that sensations arethe subject-matter of all thought or knowledge, then it is no lesscontrary to fact, inasmuch as our emotions, which constitute alarge part of the subject-matter of thought or of knowledge, are notsensations. 

More eccentric still is the Quarterly Reviewer's next piece ofpsychology. 

 "Altogether, we may clearly distinguish at least six kinds of action to which the nervous system ministers:--

 "I. That in which impressions received result in appropriate movements without the intervention of sensation or thought, as in the cases of injury above given. --This is the reflex action of the nervous system. 

 "II. That in which stimuli from without result in sensations through the agency of which their due effects are wrought out--Sensation. 

 "III. That in which impressions received result in sensations which give rise to the observation of sensible objects. --Sensible perception. 

 "IV. That in which sensations and perceptions continue to coalesce, agglutinate, and combine in more or less complex aggregations, according to the laws of the association of sensible perceptions. --Association. 

 "The above four groups contain only indeliberate operations, consisting, as they do at the best, but of mere _presentative_ sensible ideas in no way implying any reflective or _representative_ faculty. Such actions minister to and form _Instinct_. Besides these, we may distinguish two other kinds of mental action, namely:--

 "V. That in which sensations and sensible perceptions are reflected on by thought, and recognized as our own, and we ourselves recognized by ourselves as affected and perceiving. --Self-consciousness. 

 "VI. That in which we reflect upon our sensations or perceptions, and ask what they are, and why they are. --Reason. 

 "These two latter kinds of action are deliberate operations, performed, as they are, by means of representative ideas implying the use of a _reflective representative_ faculty. Such actions distinguish the _intellect_ or rational faculty. Now, we assert that possession in perfection of all the first four _(presentative)_ kinds of action by no means implies the possession of the last two _(representative)_ kinds. All persons, we think, must admit the truth of the following proposition:--

 "Two faculties are distinct, not in degree but _in kind_, if we may possess the one in perfection without that fact implying that we possess the other also. Still more will this be the case if the two faculties tend to increase in an inverse ratio. Yet this is the distinction between the _instinctive_ and the _intellectual_ parts of man's nature. 

 "As to animals, we fully admit that they may possess all the first four groups of actions--that they may have, so to speak, mental images of sensible objects combined in all degrees of complexity, as governed by the laws of association. We deny to them, on the other hand, the possession of the last two kinds of mental action. We deny them, that is, the power of reflecting on their own existence, or of inquiring into the nature of objects and their causes. We deny that they know that they know or know themselves in knowing. In other words, we deny them _reason_. The possession of the presentative faculty, as above explained, in no way implies that of the reflective faculty; nor does any amount of direct operation imply the power of asking the reflective question before mentioned, as to 'what' and 'why. '" _(Loc. Cit_. Pp. 67, 68. )

Sundry points are worthy of notice in this remarkable account of theintellectual powers. In the first place the Reviewer ignores emotionand volition, though they are no inconsiderable "kinds of action towhich the nervous system ministers, " and memory has a place in hisclassification only by implication. Secondly, we are told that thesecond "kind of action to which the nervous system ministers" is "thatin which stimuli from without result in sensations through the agencyof which their due effects are wrought out. --Sensation. " Does thisreally mean that, in the writer's opinion, "sensation" is the "agent"by which the "due effect" of the stimulus, which gives rise tosensation, is "wrought out"? Suppose somebody runs a pin into me. The"due effect" of that particular stimulus will probably be threefold;namely, a sensation of pain, a start, and an interjectional expletive. Does the Quarterly Reviewer really think that the "sensation" is the"agent" by which the other two phenomena are wrought out?

But these matters are of little moment to anyone but the Reviewerand those persons who may incautiously take their physiology, orpsychology, from him. The really interesting point is this, that whenhe fully admits that animals "may possess all the first four groupsof actions, " he grants all that is necessary for the purposes ofthe evolutionist. For he hereby admits that in animals "impressionsreceived result in sensations which give rise to the observationof sensible objects, " and that they have what he calls "sensibleperception. " Nor was it possible to help the admission; for we haveas much reason to ascribe to animals, as we have to attribute to ourfellow-men, the power, not only of perceiving external objects asexternal, and thus practically recognizing the difference between theself and the not-self; but that of distinguishing between likeand unlike, and between simultaneous and successive things. When agamekeeper goes out coursing with a greyhound in leash, and a harecrosses the field of vision, he becomes the subject of those statesof consciousness we call visual sensation, and that is all he receivesfrom without. Sensation, as such, tells him nothing whatever aboutthe cause of these states of consciousness; but the thinking facultyinstantly goes to work upon the raw material of sensation furnished toit through the eye, and gives rise to a train of thoughts. First comesthe thought that there is an object at a certain distance; then arisesanother thought--the perception of the likeness between the states ofconsciousness awakened by this object to those presented by memory, as, on some former occasion, called up by a hare; this is succeededby another thought of the nature of an emotion--namely, the desireto possess the hare; then follows a longer or shorter train of otherthoughts, which end in a volition and an act--the loosing of thegreyhound from the leash. These several thoughts are the concomitantsof a process which goes on in the nervous system of the man. Unlessthe nerve-elements of the retina, of the optic nerve, of the brain, ofthe spinal chord, and of the nerves of the arms went through certainphysical changes in due order and correlation, the various statesof consciousness which have been enumerated would not make theirappearance. So that in this, as in all other intellectual operations, we have to distinguish two sets of successive changes--one in thephysical basis of consciousness, and the other in consciousnessitself; one set which may, and doubtless will, in course of time, be followed through all their complexities by the anatomist and thephysicist, and one of which only the man himself can have immediateknowledge. 

As it is very necessary to keep up a clear distinction betweenthese two processes, let the one be called _neurosis_, and the other_psychosis_. When the gamekeeper was first trained to his work, everystep in the process of neurosis was accompanied by a correspondingstep in that of psychosis, or nearly so. He was conscious of seeingsomething, conscious of making sure it was a hare, conscious ofdesiring to catch it, and therefore to loose the greyhound at theright time, conscious of the acts by which he let the dog out of theleash. But with practice, though the various steps of the neurosisremain--for otherwise the impression on the retina would not resultin the loosing of the dog--the great majority of the steps of thepsychosis vanish, and the loosing of the dog follows unconsciously, oras we say, without thinking about it, upon the sight of the hare. No one will deny that the series of acts which originally intervenedbetween the sensation and the letting go of the dog were, in thestrictest sense, intellectual and rational operations. Do they ceaseto be so when the man ceases to be conscious of them? That dependsupon what is the essence and what the accident of those operations, which, taken together, constitute ratiocination. 

Now ratiocination is resolvable into predication, and predicationconsists in marking, in some way, the existence, the co-existence, the succession, the likeness and unlikeness, of things or their ideas. Whatever does this, reasons; and if a machine produces the effects ofreason, I see no more ground for denying to it the reasoning power, because it is unconscious, than I see for refusing to Mr. Babbage'sengine the title of a calculating machine on the same grounds. 

Thus it seems to me that a gamekeeper reasons, whether he is consciousor unconscious, whether his reasoning is carried on by neurosis alone, or whether it involves more or less psychosis. And if this is trueof the gamekeeper, it is also true of the greyhound. The essentialresemblances in all points of structure and function, so far as theycan be studied, between the nervous system of the man and that of thedog, leave no reasonable doubt that the processes which go on in theone are just like those which take place in the other. In the dog, there can be no doubt that the nervous matter which lies betweenthe retina and the muscles undergoes a series of changes, preciselyanalogous to those which, in the man, give rise to sensation, a trainof thought, and volition. 

Whether this neurosis is accompanied by such psychosis as ours, it isimpossible to say; but those who deny that the nervous changes, which, in the dog, correspond with those which underlie thought in a man, areaccompanied by consciousness, are equally bound to maintain that thosenervous changes in the dog, which correspond with those which underliesensation in a man, are also unaccompanied by consciousness. In otherwords, if there is no ground for believing that a dog thinks, neitheris there any for believing that he feels. 

As is well known, Descartes boldly faced this dilemma, andmaintained that all animals were mere machines and entirely devoid ofconsciousness. But he did not deny, nor can anyone deny, that in thiscase they are reasoning machines, capable of performing all thoseoperations which are performed by the nervous system of man when hereasons. For even supposing that in man, and in man only, psychosis issuperadded to neurosis--the neurosis which is common to both manand animal gives their reasoning processes a fundamental unity. But Descartes's position is open to very serious objections, if theevidence that animals feel is insufficient to prove that they reallydo so. What is the value of the evidence which leads one to believethat one's fellow-man feels? The only evidence in this argument ofanalogy, is the similarity of his structure and of his actions toone's own. And if that is good enough to prove that one's fellow-manfeels, surely it is good enough to prove that an ape feels. For thedifferences of structure and function between men and apes are utterlyinsufficient to warrant the assumption, that while men have thosestates of consciousness we call sensations, apes have nothing of thekind. Moreover, we have as good evidence that apes are capable ofemotion and volition as we have that men other than ourselves are. Butif apes possess three out of the four kinds of states of consciousnesswhich we discover in ourselves, what possible reason is there fordenying them the fourth? If they are capable of sensation, emotion, and volition, why are they to be denied thought (in the sense ofpredication)?

No answer has ever been given to these questions. And as the law ofcontinuity is as much opposed, as is the common sense of mankind, tothe notion that all animals are unconscious machines, it may safely beassumed that no sufficient answer ever will be given to them. 

There is every reason to believe that consciousness is a functionof nervous matter, when, that nervous matter has attained a certaindegree of organization, just as we know the other "actions to whichthe nervous system ministers, " such as reflex action and the like, tobe. As I have ventured to state my view of the matter elsewhere, "ourthoughts are the expression of molecular changes in that matter oflife which is the source of our other vital phenomena. "

Mr. Wallace objects to this statement in the following terms:--

 "Not having been able to find any clue in Professor Huxley's writings to the steps by which he passes from those vital phenomena, which consist only, in their last analysis, of movements by particles of matter, to those other phenomena which we term thought, sensation, or consciousness; but, knowing that so positive an expression of opinion from him will have great weight with many persons, I shall endeavour to show, with as much brevity as is compatible with clearness, that this theory is not only incapable of proof, but is also, as it appears to me, inconsistent with accurate conceptions of molecular physics. "

With all respect for Mr. Wallace, it appears to me that his remarksare entirely beside the question. I really know nothing whatever, andnever hope to know anything, of the steps by which the passage frommolecular movement to states of consciousness is effected; and Ientirely agree with the sense of the passage which he quotes fromProfessor Tyndall, apparently imagining that it is in opposition tothe view I hold. 

All that I have to say is, that, in my belief, consciousness andmolecular action are capable of being expressed by one another, justas heat and mechanical action are capable of being expressed in termsof one another. Whether we shall ever be able to express consciousnessin foot-pounds, or not, is more than I will venture to say; butthat there is evidence of the existence of some correlation betweenmechanical motion and consciousness, is as plain as anything can be. Suppose the poles of an electric battery to be connected by a platinumwire. A certain intensity of the current gives rise in the mind of abystander to that state of consciousness we call a "dull red light"--alittle greater intensity to another which we call a "bright redlight;" increase the intensity, and the light becomes white; and, finally, it dazzles, and a new state of consciousness arises, which weterm pain. Given the same wire and the same nervous apparatus, and theamount of electric force required to give rise to these several statesof consciousness will be the same, however often the experimentis repeated. And as the electric force, the light-waves, and thenerve-vibrations caused by the impact of the light-waves on theretina, are all expressions of the molecular changes which are takingplace in the elements of the battery; so consciousness is, in the samesense, an expression of the molecular changes which take place in thatnervous matter, which is the organ of consciousness. 

And, since this, and any number of similar examples that may berequired, prove that one form of consciousness, at any rate, is, inthe strictest sense, the expression of molecular change, it reallyis not worth while to pursue the inquiry, whether a fact so easilyestablished is consistent with any particular system of molecularphysics or not. 

Mr. Wallace, in fact, appears to me to have mixed up two very distinctpropositions: the one, the indisputable truth that consciousness iscorrelated with molecular changes in the organ of consciousness;the other, that the nature of that correlation is known, or can beconceived, which is quite another matter. Mr. Wallace, presumably, believes in that correlation of phenomena which we call cause andeffect as firmly as I do. But if he has ever been able to form thefaintest notion how a cause gives rise to its effect, all I can say isthat I envy him. Take the simplest case imaginable--suppose a ball inmotion to impinge upon another ball at rest. I know very well, as amatter of fact, that the ball in motion will communicate some of itsmotion to the ball at rest, and that the motion of the two balls aftercollision is precisely correlated with the masses of both balls andthe amount of motion of the first. But how does this come about? Inwhat manner can we conceive that the _vis viva_ of the first ballpasses into the second? I confess I can no more form any conceptionof what happens in this case, than I can of what takes place when themotion of particles of my nervous matter, caused by the impact of asimilar ball, gives rise to the state of consciousness I call pain. Inultimate analysis everything is incomprehensible, and the whole objectof science is simply to reduce the fundamental incomprehensibilitiesto the smallest possible number. 

But to return to the Quarterly Reviewer. He admits that animalshave "mental images of sensible objects, combined in all degrees ofcomplexity, as governed by the laws of association. " Presumably, bythis confused and imperfect statement the Reviewer means to admitmore than the words imply. For mental images of sensible objects, even though "combined in all degrees of complexity, " are, and can be, nothing more than mental images of sensible objects. But judgments, emotions, and volitions cannot by any possibility be included underthe head of "mental images of sensible objects. "

If the greyhound had no better mental endowment than the Reviewerallows him, he might have the "mental image" of the "sensibleobject"--the hare--and that might be combined with the mental imagesof other sensible objects, to any degree of complexity, but he wouldhave no power of judging it to be at a certain distance from him; nopower of perceiving its similarity to his memory of a hare; and nodesire to get at it. Consequently he would stand stock still, and thenoble art of coursing would have no existence. On the other hand, as that art is largely practised, it follows that greyhounds alonepossess a number of mental powers, the existence of which, in anyanimal, is absolutely denied by the Quarterly Reviewer. 

Finally, what are the mental powers which he reserves as the especialprerogative of man? They are two. First, the recognition of "ourselvesby ourselves as affected and perceiving. --Self-consciousness. "

Secondly. "The reflection upon our sensations and perceptions, andasking what they are and why they are. --Reason. "

To the faculty defined in the last sentence, the Reviewer, withoutassigning the least ground for thus departing from both common usageand technical propriety, applies the name of reason. But if man is notto be considered a reasoning being, unless he asks what his sensationsand perceptions are, and why they are, what is a Hottentot, or anAustralian black fellow; or what the "swinked hedger" of an ordinaryagricultural district? Nay, what becomes of an average country squireor parson? How many of these worthy persons who, as their wont is, read the _Quarterly Review_, would do other than stand agape, if youasked them whether they had ever reflected what their sensations andperceptions are, and why they are?

So that if the Reviewer's new definition of reason be correct, themajority of men, even among the most civilized nations, are devoid ofthat supreme characteristic of manhood. And if it be as absurd as Ibelieve it to be, then, as reason is certainly not self-consciousness, and as it, as certainly, is one of the "actions to which the nervoussystem ministers, " we must, if the Reviewer's classification is to beadopted, seek it among those four faculties which he allows animalsto possess. And thus, for the second time, he really surrenders, whileseeming to defend, his position. 

The Quarterly Reviewer, as we have seen, lectures the evolutionistsupon their want of knowledge of philosophy altogether. Mr. Mivartis not less pained at Mr. Darwin's ignorance of moral science. It isgrievous to him that Mr. Darwin (and _nous autres_) should nothave grasped the elementary distinction between material and formalmorality; and he lays down as an axiom, of which no tyro ought to beignorant, the position that "acts, unaccompanied by mental actsof conscious will directed towards the fulfilment of duty, " are"absolutely destitute of the most incipient degree of real or formalgoodness. "

Now this may be Mr. Mivart's opinion, but it is a proposition which, really, does not stand on the footing of an undisputed axiom. Mr. Milldenies it in his work on Utilitarianism. The most influential writerof a totally opposed school, Mr. Carlyle, is never weary of denyingit, and upholding the merit of that virtue which is unconscious; nay, it is, to my understanding, extremely hard to reconcile Mr. Mivart'sdictum with that noble summary of the whole duty of man--"Thou shaltlove the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and with all thy soul, andwith all thy strength; and thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself. "According to Mr. Mivart's definition, the man who loves God and hisneighbour, and, out of sheer love and affection for both, does all hecan to please them, is, nevertheless, destitute of a particle of realgoodness. 

And it further happens that Mr. Darwin, who is charged by Mr. Mivartwith being ignorant of the distinction between material and formalgoodness, discusses the very question at issue, in a passage whichis well worth reading (vol. I. P. 87), and also comes to a conclusionopposed to Mr. Mivart's axiom. A proposition which has been so muchdisputed and repudiated, should, under no circumstances, have beenthus confidently assumed to be true. For myself, I utterly rejectit, inasmuch as the logical consequence of the adoption of any suchprinciple is the denial of all moral value to sympathy and affection. According to Mr. Mivart's axiom, the man who, seeing anotherstruggling in the water, leaps in at the risk of his own life to savehim, does that which is "destitute of the most incipient degree ofreal goodness, " unless, as he strips off his coat, he says to himself, "Now mind, I am going to do this because it is my duty and for noother reason;" and the most beautiful character to which humanitycan attain, that of the man who does good without thinking about it, because he loves justice and mercy and is repelled by evil, has noclaim on our moral approbation. The denial that a man acts morallybecause he does not think whether he does so or not, may be put uponthe same footing as the denial of the title of an arithmetician to thecalculating boy, because he did not know how he worked his sums. Ifmankind ever generally accept and act upon Mr. Mivart's axiom, theywill simply become a set of most unendurable prigs; but they neverhave accepted it, and I venture to hope that evolution has nothing soterrible in store for the human race. 

But, if an action, the motive of which is nothing out affection orsympathy, may be deserving of moral approbation and really good, whothat has ever had a dog of his own will deny that animals are capableof such actions? Mr. Mivart indeed says:--"It may be safely affirmed, however, that there is no trace in brutes of any actions simulatingmorality which are not explicable by the fear of punishment, by thehope of pleasure, or by personal affection" (p. 221). But it maybe affirmed, with equal truth, that there is no trace in men of anyactions which are not traceable to the same motives. If a man doesanything, he does it either because he fears to be punished if hedoes not do it, or because he hopes to obtain pleasure by doing it, orbecause he gratifies his affections[1] by doing it. 

[Footnote 1: In separating pleasure and the gratification ofaffection, I simply follow Mr. Mivart without admitting the justice ofthe separation. ]

Assuming the position of the absolute moralists, let it be grantedthat there is a perception of right and wrong innate in every man. This means, simply, that when certain ideas are presented to hismind, the feeling of approbation arises; and when certain others, thefeeling of disapprobation. To do your duty is to earn the approbationof your conscience, or moral sense; to fail in your duty is to feelits disapprobation, as we all say. Now, is approbation a pleasure ora pain? Surely a pleasure. And is disapprobation a pleasure or a pain?Surely a pain. Consequently all that is really meant by the absolutemoralists is that there is, in the very nature of man, something whichenables him to be conscious of these particular pleasures and pains. And when they talk of immutable and eternal principles of morality, the only intelligible sense which I can put upon the words, is thatthe nature of man being what it is, he always has been, and alwayswill be, capable of feeling these particular pleasures and pains. _Apriori_, I have nothing to say against this proposition. Admitting itstruth, I do not see how the moral faculty is on a different footingfrom any of the other faculties of man. If I choose to say that it isan immutable and eternal law of human nature that "ginger is hotin the mouth, " the assertion has as much foundation of truth as theother, though I think it would be expressed in needlessly pompouslanguage. I must confess that I have never been able to understand whythere should be such a bitter quarrel between the intuitionists andthe utilitarians. The intuitionist is, after all, only a utilitarianwho believes that a particular class of pleasures and pains has anespecial importance, by reason of its foundation in the nature of man, and its inseparable connection with his very existence as a thinkingbeing. And as regards the motive of personal affection: Love, asSpinoza profoundly says, is the association of pleasure with thatwhich is loved. [1] Or, to put it to the common sense of mankind, is the gratification of affection a pleasure or a pain? Surely apleasure. So that whether the motive which leads us to performan action is the love of our neighbour, or the love of God, it isundeniable that pleasure enters into that motive. 

[Footnote 1: "Nempe, Amor nihil aliud est, quam Laetitia, concomitanteidea causae externae. "--_Ethices_ III. Xiii. ]

Thus much in reply to Mr. Mivart's arguments. I cannot but thinkthat it is to be regretted that he ekes them out by ascribing to thedoctrines of the philosophers with whom he does not agree, logicalconsequences which have been over and over again proved not to flowfrom them: and when reason fails him, tries the effect of an injuriousnickname. According to the views of Mr. Spencer, Mr. Mill, and Mr. Darwin, Mr. Mivart tells us, "_virtue is a mere kind of retrieving;"_ and, that we may not miss the point of the joke, he puts it initalics. But what if it is? Does that make it less virtue? Suppose Isay that sculpture is a "mere way" of stone-cutting, and paintinga "mere way" of daubing canvas, and music a "mere way" of making anoise, the statements are quite true; but they only show that I see noother method of depreciating some of the noblest aspects of humanity, than that of using language in an inadequate and misleading senseabout them. And the peculiar in appropriateness of this particularnickname to the views in question, arises from the circumstance whichMr. Mivart would doubtless have recollected, if his wish to ridiculehad not for the moment obscured his judgment--that whether the lawof evolution applies to man or not, that of hereditary transmissioncertainly does. Mr. Mivart will hardly deny that a man owes a largeshare of the moral tendencies which he exhibits to his ancestors;and the man who inherits a desire to steal from a kleptomaniac, or atendency to benevolence from a Howard, is, so far as he illustrateshereditary transmission, comparable to the dog who inherits the desireto fetch a duck out of the water from his retrieving sire. So that, evolution, or no evolution, moral qualities are comparable to a "kindof retrieving;" though the comparison, if meant for the purposes ofcasting obloquy on evolution, does not say much for the fairness ofthose who make it. 

The Quarterly Reviewer and Mr. Mivart base their objections to theevolution of the mental faculties of man from those of some loweranimal form, upon what they maintain to be a difference in kindbetween the mental and moral faculties of men and brutes; and Ihave endeavoured to show, by exposing the utter unsoundness of theirphilosophical basis, that these objections are devoid of importance. 

The objections which Mr. Wallace brings forward to the doctrine ofthe evolution of the mental faculties of man from those of brutesby natural causes, are of a different order, and require separateconsideration. 

If I understand him rightly, he by no means doubts that both thebodily and the mental faculties of man have been evolved from those ofsome lower animal; but he is of opinion, that some agency beyond thatwhich has been concerned in the evolution of ordinary animals, hasbeen operative in the case of man. "A superior intelligence has guidedthe development of man in a definite direction and for a specialpurpose, just as man guides the development of many animal andvegetable forms. "[1] I understand this to mean that, just as therock-pigeon has been produced by natural causes, while theevolution of the tumbler from the blue rock has required the specialintervention of the intelligence of man, so some anthropoid form mayhave been evolved by variation and natural selection; but it couldnever have given rise to man, unless some superior intelligence hadplayed the part of the pigeon-fancier. 

[Footnote 1: The limits of Natural Selection as applied to Man _(loc. Cit_. P. 359). ]

According to Mr. Wallace, "whether we compare the savage with thehigher developments of man, or with the brutes around him, we arealike driven to the conclusion, that, in his large and well-developedbrain, he possesses an organ quite disproportioned to hisrequirements" (p. 343); and he asks, "What is there in the life of thesavage but the satisfying of the cravings of appetite in the simplestand easiest way? What thoughts, idea, or actions are there that raisehim many grades above the elephant or the ape?" (p. 342). I answer Mr. Wallace by citing a remarkable passage which occurs in his instructivepaper on "Instinct in Man and Animals. "

 "Savages make long journeys in many directions, and, their whole faculties being directed to the subject, they gain a wide and accurate knowledge of the topography, not only of their own district, but of all the regions round about. Everyone who has travelled in a new direction communicates his knowledge to those who have travelled less, and descriptions of routes and localities, and minute incidents of travel, form one of the main staples of conversation around the evening fire. Every wanderer or captive from another tribe adds to the store of information, and, as the very existence of individuals and of whole families and tribes depends upon the completeness of this knowledge, all the acute perceptive faculties of the adult savage are directed to acquiring and perfecting it. The good hunter or warrior thus comes to know the bearing of every hill and mountain range, the directions and junctions of all the streams, the situation of each tract characterized by peculiar vegetation, not only within the area he has himself traversed, but perhaps for a hundred miles around it. His acute observation enables him to detect the slightest undulations of the surface, the various changes of subsoil and alterations in the character of the vegetation that would be quite imperceptible to a stranger. His eye is always open to the direction in which he is going; the mossy side of trees, the presence of certain plants under the shade of rocks, the morning and evening flight of birds, are to him indications of direction almost as sure as the sun in the heavens" (pp. 207-8). 

I have seen enough of savages to be able to declare that nothing canbe more admirable than this description of what a savage has to learn. But it is incomplete. Add to all this the knowledge which a savageis obliged to gain of the properties of plants, of the characters andhabits of animals, and of the minute indications by which their courseis discoverable: consider that even an Australian can make excellentbaskets and nets, and neatly fitted and beautifully balanced spears;that he learns to use these so as to be able to transfix a quarternloaf at sixty yards; and that very often, as in the case of theAmerican Indians, the language of a savage exhibits complexities whicha well-trained European finds it difficult to master: consider thatevery time a savage tracks his game, he employs a minuteness ofobservation, and an accuracy of inductive and deductive reasoningwhich, applied to other matters, would assure some reputation to a manof science, and I think we need ask no further why he possesses such afair supply of brains. In complexity and difficulty, I should say thatthe intellectual labour of a "good hunter or warrior" considerablyexceeds that of an ordinary Englishman. The Civil Service Examinersare held in great terror by young Englishmen; but even their ferocitynever tempted them to require a candidate to possess such a knowledgeof a parish, as Mr. Wallace justly points out savages may possess ofan area a hundred miles, or more, in diameter. 

But suppose, for the sake of argument, that a savage has more brainsthan seems proportioned to his wants, all that can be said is thatthe objection to natural selection, if it be one, applies quiteas strongly to the lower animals. The brain of a porpoise is quitewonderful for its mass, and for the development of the cerebralconvolutions. And yet since we have ceased to credit the story ofArion, it is hard to believe that porpoises are much troubled withintellect: and still more difficult is it to imagine that their bigbrains are only a preparation for the advent of some accomplishedcetacean of the future. Surely, again, a wolf must have too muchbrains, or else how is it that a dog, with only the same quantity andform of brain, is able to develop such singular intelligence? The wolfstands to the dog in the same relation as the savage to the man; and, therefore, if Mr. Wallace's doctrine holds good, a higher power musthave superintended the breeding up of wolves from some inferior stock, in order to prepare them to become dogs. 

Mr. Wallace further maintains that the origin of some of man's mentalfaculties by the preservation of useful variations is not possible. Such, for example, are "the capacity to form ideal conceptions ofspace and time, of eternity and infinity; the capacity for intenseartistic feelings of pleasure in form, colour, and composition; andfor those abstract notions of form and number which render geometryand arithmetic possible. " "How, " he asks, "were all or any of thesefaculties first developed, when they could have been of no possibleuse to man in his early stages of barbarism?"

Surely the answer is not far to seek. The lowest savages are asdevoid of any such conceptions as the brutes themselves. What sort ofconceptions of space and time, of form and number, can be possessed bya savage who has not got so far as to be able to count beyond five orsix, who does not know how to draw a triangle or a circle, and has notthe remotest notion of separating the particular quality we callform, from the other qualities of bodies? None of these capacitiesare exhibited by men, unless they form part of a tolerably advancedsociety. And, in such a society, there are abundant conditions bywhich a selective influence is exerted in favour of those persons whoexhibit an approximation towards the possession of these capacities. 

The savage who can amuse his fellows by telling a good story over thenightly fire, is held by them in esteem and rewarded, in one way oranother, for so doing in other words, it is an advantage to him topossess this power. He who can carve a paddle, or the figure-head ofa canoe better, similarly profits beyond his duller neighbour. Hewho counts a little better than others, gets most yams when barteris going on, and forms the shrewdest estimate of the numbers of anopposing tribe. The experience of daily life shows that the conditionsof our present social existence exercise the most extraordinarilypowerful selective influence in favour of novelists, artists, andstrong intellects of all kinds; and it seems unquestionable thatall forms of social existence must have had the same tendency, if weconsider the indisputable facts that even animals possess the power ofdistinguishing form and number, and that they are capable of derivingpleasure from particular forms and sounds. If we admit, as Mr. Wallacedoes, that the lowest savages are not raised "many grades above theelephant and the ape;" and if we further admit, as I contend must beadmitted, that the conditions of social life tend, powerfully, togive an advantage to those individuals who vary in the direction ofintellectual or aesthetic excellence, what is there to interferewith the belief that these higher faculties, like the rest, owe theirdevelopment to natural selection?

Finally, with respect to the development of the moral sense out of thesimple feelings of pleasure and pain, liking and disliking, with whichthe lower animals are provided, I can find nothing in Mr. Wallace'sreasonings which has not already been met by Mr. Mill, Mr. Spencer, orMr. Darwin. 

I do not propose to follow the Quarterly Reviewer and Mr. Mivartthrough the long string of objections in matters of detail which theybring against Mr. Darwin's views. Everyone who has consideredthe matter carefully will be able to ferret out as many more"difficulties;" but he will also, I believe, fail as completely asthey appear to me to have done, in bringing forward any fact which isreally contradictory of Mr. Darwin's views. Occasionally, too, theirobjections and criticisms are based upon errors of their own. As, forexample, when Mr. Mivart and the Quarterly Reviewer insist upon theresemblances between the eyes of _Cephalopoda_ and _Vertebrata_, quite forgetting that there are striking and altogether fundamentaldifferences between them; or when the Quarterly Reviewer corrects Mr. Darwin for saying that the gibbons, "without having been taught, can walk or run upright with tolerable quickness, though they moveawkwardly, and much less securely than man. " The Quarterly Reviewersays, "This is a little misleading, inasmuch as it is not stated thatthis upright progression is effected by placing the enormously longarms behind the head, or holding them out backwards as a balance inprogression. "

Now, before carping at a small statement like this, the QuarterlyReviewer should have made sure that he was quite right. But he happensto be quite wrong. I suspect he got his notion of the manner in whicha gibbon walks from a citation in "Man's Place in Nature. " But atthat time I had not seen a gibbon walk. Since then I have, and I cantestify that nothing can be more precise than Mr. Darwin's statement. The gibbon I saw walked without either putting his arms behind hishead or holding them out backwards. All he did was to touch the groundwith the outstretched fingers of his long arms now and then, just asone sees a man who carries a stick, but does not need one, touch theground with it as he walks along. 

Again, a large number of the objections brought forward by Mr. Mivartand the Quarterly Reviewer apply to evolution in general, quite asmuch as to the particular form of that doctrine advocated by Mr. Darwin; or, to their notions of Mr. Darwin's views and not to whatthey really are. An excellent example of this class of difficultiesis to be found in Mr. Mivart's chapter on "Independent Similaritiesof Structure. " Mr. Mivart says that these cannot be explained byan "absolute and pure Darwinian, " but "that an innate power andevolutionary law, aided by the corrective action of natural selection, should have furnished like needs with like aids, is not at allimprobable" (p. 82). 

I do not exactly know what Mr. Mivart means by an "absolute andpure Darwinian;" indeed Mr. Mivart makes that creature hold so manysingular opinions that I doubt if I can ever have seen one alive. ButI find nothing in his statement of the view which he imagines tobe originated by himself, which is really inconsistent with what Iunderstand to be Mr. Darwin's views. 

I apprehend that the foundation of the theory of natural selection isthe fact that living bodies tend incessantly to vary. This variationis neither indefinite, nor fortuitous, nor does it take place in alldirections, in the strict sense of these words. 

Accurately speaking, it is not indefinite, nor does it take place inall directions, because it is limited by the general characters of thetype to which the organism exhibiting the variation belongs. A whaledoes not tend to vary in the direction of producing feathers, nor abird in the direction of developing whalebone. In popular languagethere is no harm in saying that the waves which break upon thesea-shore are indefinite, fortuitous, and break in all directions. In scientific language, on the contrary, such a statement would bea gross error, inasmuch as every particle of foam is the result ofperfectly definite forces, operating according to no less definitelaws. In like manner, every variation of a living form, howeverminute, however apparently accidental, is inconceivable except as theexpression of the operation of molecular forces or "powers" residentwithin the organism. And, as these forces certainly operate accordingto definite laws, their general result is, doubtless, in accordancewith some general law which subsumes them all. And there appears tobe no objection to call this an "evolutionary law. " But nobody is thewiser for doing so, or has thereby contributed, in the least degree, to the advance of the doctrine of evolution, the great need of whichis a theory of variation. 

When Mr. Mivart tells us that his "aim has been to support thedoctrine that these species have been evolved by ordinary _naturallaws_ (for the most part unknown), aided by the _subordinate_ actionof 'natural selection'" (pp. 332-3), he seems to be of opinion thathis enterprise has the merit of novelty. All I can say is that I havenever had the slightest notion that Mr. Darwin's aim is in any waydifferent from this. If I affirm that "species have been evolved byvariation[1] (a natural process, the laws of which are for the mostpart unknown), aided by the subordinate action of natural selection, "it seems to me that I enunciate a proposition which constitutes thevery pith and marrow of the first edition of the "Origin of Species. "And what the evolutionist stands in need of just now, is not aniteration of the fundamental principle of Darwinism, but some lightupon the questions, What are the limits of variation? and, Ifa variety has arisen, can that variety be perpetuated, or evenintensified, when selective conditions are indifferent, or perhapsunfavourable, to its existence? I cannot find that Mr. Darwin has everbeen very dogmatic in answering these questions. Formerly, he seemsto have inclined to reply to them in the negative, while now hisinclination is the other way. Leaving aside those broad questions oftheology, philosophy, and ethics, by the discussion of which neitherthe Quarterly Reviewer nor Mr. Mivart can be said to have damagedDarwinism--whatever else they have injured--this is what theircriticisms come to. They confound a struggle for some rifle-pits withan assault on the fortress. 

[Footnote 1: Including under this head hereditary transmission. ]

In some respects, finally, I can only characterize the QuarterlyReviewer's treatment of Mr. Darwin as alike unjust and unbecoming. Language of this strength requires justification, and on that ground Iadd the remarks which follow. 

The Quarterly Reviewer opens his essay by a careful enumeration ofall those points upon which, during the course of thirteen years ofincessant labour, Mr. Darwin has modified his opinions. It has oftenand justly been remarked, that what strikes a candid student of Mr. Darwin's works is not so much his industry, his knowledge, or eventhe surprising fertility of his inventive genius; but that unswervingtruthfulness and honesty which never permit him to hide a weak place, or gloss over a difficulty, but lead him, on all occasions, to pointout the weak places in his own armour, and even sometimes, it appearsto me, to make admissions against himself which are quite unnecessary. A critic who desires to attack Mr. Darwin has only to read his workswith a desire to observe, not their merits, but their defects, andhe will find, ready to hand, more adverse suggestions than are likelyever to have suggested themselves to his own sharpness, without Mr. Darwin's self-denying aid. 

Now this quality of scientific candour is not so common that it needsto be discouraged; and it appears to me to deserve other treatmentthan that adopted by the Quarterly Reviewer, who deals with Mr. Darwinas an Old Bailey barrister deals with a man against whom he wishesto obtain a conviction, _per fas aut nefas_, and opens his case byendeavouring to create a prejudice against the prisoner in the mindsof the jury. In his eagerness to carry out this laudable design, theQuarterly Reviewer cannot even state the history of the doctrineof natural selection without an oblique and entirely unjustifiableattempt to depreciate Mr. Darwin. "To Mr. Darwin, " says he, "and(through Mr. Wallace's reticence) to Mr. Darwin alone, is due thecredit of having first brought it prominently forward and demonstratedits truth. " No one can less desire than I do, to throw a doubt uponMr. Wallace's originality, or to question his claim to the honour ofbeing one of the originators of the doctrine of natural selection; butthe statement that Mr. Darwin has the sole credit of originating thedoctrine because of Mr. Wallace's reticence is simply ridiculous. Theproof of this is, in the first place, afforded by Mr. Wallace himself, whose noble freedom from petty jealousy in this matter, smaller folkwould do well to imitate; and who writes thus:--"I have felt all mylife, and I still feel, the most sincere satisfaction that Mr. Darwinhad been at work long before me, and that it was not left for me toattempt to write the 'Origin of Species. ' I have long since measuredmy own strength, and know well that it would be quite unequal to thattask. " So that if there was any reticence at all in the matter, itwas Mr. Darwin's reticence during the long twenty years of study whichintervened between the conception and the publication of his theory, which gave Mr. Wallace the chance of being an independent discovererof the importance of natural selection. And, finally, if it berecollected that Mr. Darwin's and Mr. Wallace's essays were publishedsimultaneously in the _Journal of the Linnaean Society_ for 1858, itfollows that the Reviewer, while obliquely depreciating Mr. Darwin'sdeserts, has in reality awarded to him a priority which, in legalstrictness, does not exist. 

Mr. Mivart, whose opinions so often concur with those of the QuarterlyReviewer, puts the case in a way, which I much regret to be obliged tosay, is, in my judgment, quite as incorrect; though the injustice maybe less glaring. He says that the theory of natural selection is, in general, exclusively associated with the name of Mr. Darwin, "onaccount of the noble self-abnegation of Mr. Wallace. " As I have said, no one can honour Mr. Wallace more than I do, both for what he hasdone and for what he has not done, in his relation to Mr. Darwin. Andperhaps nothing is more creditable to him than his frank declarationthat he could not have written such a work as the "Origin of Species. "But, by this declaration, the person most directly interested in thematter repudiates, by anticipation, Mr. Mivart's suggestion that Mr. Darwin's eminence is more or less due to Mr. Wallace's modesty. 

XI. 

THE GENEALOGY OF ANIMALS. [1]

Considering that Germany now takes the lead of the world in scientificinvestigation, and particularly in biology, Mr. Darwin must be wellpleased at the rapid spread of his views among some of the ablest andmost laborious of German naturalists. 

[Footnote 1: "The Natural History of Creation. " By Dr. Ernst Haeckel(_Natürliche Schöpfungs-Geschichte. _--Von Dr. Ernst Haeckel, Professoran der Universität Jena. ) Berlin, 1868. ]

Among those, Professor Haeckel, of Jena, is the Coryphaeus. I know ofno more solid and important contributions to biology in the past sevenyears than Haeckel's work on the _Radiolaria_, and the researches ofhis distinguished colleague Gegenbaur, in vertebrate anatomy; whilein Haeckel's _Generelle Morphologie_ there is all the force, suggestiveness, and, what I may term the systematizing power, of Oken, without his extravagance. The _Generelle Morphologie_ is, in fact, anattempt to put the doctrine of Evolution, so far as it applies tothe living world, into a logical form; and to work out its practicalapplications to their final results. The work before us, again, maybe said to be an exposition of the _Generelle Morphologie_ for aneducated public, consisting, as it does, of the substance of a seriesof lectures delivered before a mixed audience at Jena, in the session1867-8. 

"The Natural History of Creation, "--or, as Professor Haeckel admitsit would have been better to call his work, "The History of theDevelopment or Evolution of Nature, "--deals, in the first sixlectures, with the general and historical aspects of the question, and contains a very interesting and lucid account of the views ofLinnaeus, Cuvier, Agassiz, Goethe, Oken, Kant, Lamarck, Lyell, andDarwin, and of the historical filiation of these philosophers. 

The next six lectures are occupied by a well-digested statement of Mr. Darwin's views. The thirteenth lecture discusses two topics which arenot touched by Mr. Darwin, namely, the origin of the present form ofthe solar system, and that of living matter. Full justice is done toKant, as the originator of that "cosmic gas theory, " as the Germanssomewhat quaintly call it, which is commonly ascribed to Laplace. Withrespect to spontaneous generation, while admitting that there is noexperimental evidence in its favour, Professor Haeckel denies thepossibility of disproving it, and points out that the assumption thatit has occurred is a necessary part of the doctrine of Evolution. Thefourteenth lecture, on "Schöpfungs-Perioden und Schöpfungs-Urkunden, "answers pretty much to the famous disquisition on the "Imperfection ofthe Geological Record" in the _Origin of Species_. 

The following five lectures contain the most original matter of any, being devoted to "Phylogeny, " or the working out of the details of theprocess of Evolution in the animal and vegetable kingdoms, so asto prove the line of descent of each group of living beings, and tofurnish it with its proper genealogical tree, or "phylum. "

The last lecture considers objections and sums up the evidence infavour of biological Evolution. 

I shall best testify to my sense of the value of the work thus brieflyanalysed if I now proceed to note down some of the more importantcriticisms which have been suggested to me by its perusal. 

I. In more than one place, Professor Haeckel enlarges upon the servicewhich the _Origin of Species_ has done, in favouring what he termsthe "causal or mechanical" view of living nature as opposed to the"teleological or vitalistic" view. And no doubt it is quite true thatthe doctrine of Evolution is the most formidable opponent of allthe commoner and coarser forms of Teleology. But perhaps the mostremarkable service to the philosophy of Biology rendered by Mr. Darwinis the reconciliation of Teleology and Morphology, and the explanationof the facts of both which his views offer. 

The Teleology which supposes that the eye, such as we see it in manor one of the higher _Vertebrata_, was made with the precise structurewhich it exhibits, for the purpose of enabling the animal whichpossesses it to see, has undoubtedly received its death-blow. Nevertheless it is necessary to remember that there is a widerTeleology, which is not touched by the doctrine of Evolution, but isactually based upon the fundamental proposition of Evolution. Thatproposition is, that the whole world, living and not living, is theresult of the mutual interaction, according to definite laws, of theforces possessed by the molecules of which the primitive nebulosity ofthe universe was composed. If this be true, it is no less certain thatthe existing world lay, potentially, in the cosmic vapour; and that asufficient intelligence could, from a knowledge of the properties ofthe molecules of that vapour, have predicted, say the state of theFauna of Britain in 1869, with as much certainty as one can say whatwill happen to the vapour of the breath in a cold winter's day. 

Consider a kitchen clock, which ticks loudly, shows the hours, minutes, and seconds, strikes, cries "cuckoo!" and perhaps shows thephases of the moon. When the clock is wound up, all the phenomenawhich it exhibits are potentially contained in its mechanism, and aclever clockmaker could predict all it will do after an examination ofits structure. 

If the evolution theory is correct, the molecular structure of thecosmic gas stands in the same relation to the phenomena of the worldas the structure of the clock to its phenomena. 

Now let us suppose a death-watch, living in the clock-case, to be alearned and intelligent student of its works. He might say, "I findhere nothing but matter and force and pure mechanism from beginning toend, " and he would be quite right. But if he drew the conclusion thatthe clock was not contrived for a purpose, he would be quite wrong. On the other hand, imagine another death-watch of a different turn ofmind. He, listening to the monotonous "tick! tick!" so exactly likehis own, might arrive at the conclusion that the clock was itself amonstrous sort of death-watch, and that its final cause and purposewas to tick. How easy to point to the clear relation of the wholemechanism to the pendulum, to the fact that the one thing the clockdid always and without intermission was to tick, and that all the restof its phenomena were intermittent and subordinate to ticking! Forall this, it is certain that kitchen clocks are not contrived for thepurpose of making a ticking noise. 

Thus the teleological theorist would be as wrong as the mechanicaltheorist, among our death-watches; and, probably, the only death-watchwho would be right would be the one who should maintain that thesole thing death-watches could be sure about was the nature of theclock-works and the way they move; and that the purpose of the clocklay wholly beyond the purview of beetle faculties. 

Substitute "cosmic vapour" for "clock, " and "molecules" for "works, "and the application of the argument is obvious. The teleologicaland the mechanical views of nature are not, necessarily, mutuallyexclusive. On the contrary, the more purely a mechanist the speculatoris, the more firmly does he assume a primordial molecular arrangement, of which all the phenomena of the universe are the consequences; andthe more completely is he thereby at the mercy of the teleologist, who can always defy him to disprove that this primordial moleculararrangement was not intended to evolve the phenomena of the universe. On the other hand, if the teleologist assert that this, that, orthe other result of the working of any part of the mechanism of theuniverse is its purpose and final cause, the mechanist can alwaysinquire how he knows that it is more than an unessential incident--themere ticking of the clock, which he mistakes for its function. Andthere seems to be no reply to this inquiry, any more than to thefurther, not irrational, question, why trouble oneself about matterswhich are out of reach, when the working of the mechanism itself, which is of infinite practical importance, affords scope for all ourenergies?

Professor Haeckel has invented a new and convenient name, "Dysteleology, " for the study of the "purposelessnesses" which areobservable in living organisms--such as the multitudinous cases ofrudimentary and apparently useless structures. I confess, however, that it has often appeared to me that the facts of Dysteleology cuttwo ways. If we are to assume, as evolutionists in general do, that useless organs atrophy, such cases as the existence of lateralrudiments of toes, in the foot of a horse, place us in a dilemma. For, either these rudiments are of no use to the animal, in which case, considering that the horse has existed in its present form since thePliocene epoch, they surely ought to have disappeared; or they are ofsome use to the animal, in which case they are of no use as argumentsagainst Teleology. A similar, but still stronger, argument may bebased upon the existence of teats, and even functional mammary glands, in male mammals. Numerous cases of "Gynaecomasty, " or functionallyactive breasts in men, are on record, though there is no mammalianspecies whatever in which the male normally suckles the young. Thus, there can be little doubt that the mammary gland was as apparentlyuseless in the remotest male mammalian ancestor of man as in livingmen, and yet it has not disappeared. Is it then still profitableto the male organism to retain it? Possibly; but in that case itsdysteleological value is gone. 

II. Professor Haeckel looks upon the causes which have led to thepresent diversity of living nature as twofold. Living matter, he tellsus, is urged by two impulses: a centripetal, which tends to preserveand transmit the specific form, and which he identifies with heredity;and a centrifugal, which results from the tendency of externalconditions to modify the organism and effect its adaptation tothemselves. The internal impulse is conservative, and tends to thepreservation of specific, or individual, form; the external impulse ismetamorphic, and tends to the modification of specific, or individual, form. 

In developing his views upon this subject, Professor Haeckelintroduces qualifications which disarm some of the criticisms I shouldhave been disposed to offer; but I think that his method of statingthe case has the inconvenience of tending to leave out of sightthe important fact--which is a cardinal point in the Darwinianhypothesis--that the tendency to vary, in a given organism, may havenothing to do with the external conditions to which that individualorganism is exposed, but may depend wholly upon internal conditions. No one, I imagine, would dream of seeking in the direct influence ofthe external conditions of his life for the cause of the developmentof the sixth finger and toe in the famous Maltese. 

I conceive that both hereditary transmission and adaptation need to beanalysed into their constituent conditions by the further applicationof the doctrine of the Struggle for Existence. It is a probablehypothesis, that what the world is to organisms in general, eachorganism is to the molecules of which it is composed. Multitudes ofthese, having diverse tendencies, are competing with one another foropportunity to exist and multiply; and the organism, as a whole, is asmuch the product of the molecules which are victorious as the Fauna, or Flora, of a country is the product of the victorious organic beingsin it. 

On this hypothesis, hereditary transmission is the result of thevictory of particular molecules contained in the impregnated germ. Adaptation to conditions is the result of the favouring of themultiplication of those molecules whose organizing tendencies aremost in harmony with such conditions. In this view of the matter, conditions are not actively productive, but are passively permissive;they do not cause variation in any given direction, but they permitand favour a tendency in that direction which already exists. 

It is true that, in the long run, the origin of the organic moleculesthemselves, and of their tendencies, is to be sought in the externalworld; but if we carry our inquiries as far back as this, thedistinction between internal and external impulses vanishes. On theother hand, if we confine ourselves to the consideration of a singleorganism, I think it must be admitted that the existence of aninternal metamorphic tendency must be as distinctly recognized asthat of an internal conservative tendency; and that the influence ofconditions is mainly, if not wholly, the result of the extent to whichthey favour the one, or the other, of these tendencies. 

III. There is only one point upon which I fundamentally and entirelydisagree with Professor Haeckel, but that is the very important oneof his conception of geological time, and of the meaning of thestratified rocks as records and indications of that time. Conceivingthat the stratified rocks of an epoch indicate a period of depression, and that the intervals between the epochs correspond with periodsof elevation of which we have no record, he intercalates between thedifferent epochs, or periods, intervals which he terms "Ante-periods. "Thus, instead of considering the Triassic, Jurassic, Cretaceous, andEocene periods, as continuously successive, he interposes aperiod before each, as an "Antetrias-zeit, " "Antejura-zeit, ""Antecreta-zeit, " "Antecocen-zeit, " &c. And he conceives that theabrupt changes between the Faunae of the different formations are dueto the lapse of time, of which we have no organic record, during their"Ante-periods. "

The frequent occurrence of strata containing assemblages of organicforms which are intermediate between those of adjacent formations, is, to my mind, fatal to this view. In the well-known St. Cassian beds, for example, Palaeozoic and Mesozoic forms are commingled, and, between the Cretaceous and the Eocene formations, there are similartransitional beds. On the other hand, in the middle of the Silurianseries, extensive unconformity of the strata indicates the lapse ofvast intervals of time between the deposit of successive beds, withoutany corresponding change in the Fauna. 

Professor Haeckel will, I fear, think me unreasonable, if I say thathe seems to be still overshadowed by geological superstitions; andthat he will have to believe in the completeness of the geologicalrecord far less than he does at present. He assumes, for example, thatthere was no dry land, nor any terrestrial life, before the end of theSilurian epoch, simply because, up to the present time, no indicationsof fresh water, or terrestrial organisms, have been found in rocks ofolder date. And, in speculating upon the origin of a given group, herarely goes further back than the "Ante-period, " which precedes thatin which the remains of animals belonging to that group are found. Thus, as fossil remains of the majority of the groups of _Reptilia_are first found in the Trias, they are assumed to have originated inthe "Antetriassic" period, or between the Permian and Triassic epochs. 

I confess this is wholly incredible to me. The Permian and theTriassic deposits pass completely into one another; there is no sortof discontinuity answering to an unrecorded "Antetrias;" and, whatis more, we have evidence of immensely extensive dry land during theformation of these deposits. We know that the dry land of the Triasabsolutely teemed with reptiles of all groups except Pterodactyles, Snakes, and perhaps Tortoises; there is every probability that trueBirds existed, and _Mammalia_ certainly did. Of the inhabitants of thePermian dry land, on the contrary, all that have left a record are afew lizards. Is it conceivable that these last should reallyrepresent the whole terrestrial population of that time, and thatthe development of Mammals, of Birds, and of the highest forms ofReptiles, should have been crowded into the time during which thePermian conditions quietly passed away, and the Triassic conditionsbegan? Does not any such supposition become in the highest degreeimprobable, when, in the terrestrial or fresh-water Labyrinthodonts, which lived on the land of the Carboniferous epoch, as well as onthat of the Trias, we have evidence that one form, of terrestrial lifepersisted, throughout all these ages, with no important modification?For my part, having regard to the small amount of modification (exceptin the way of extinction) which the Crocodilian, Lacertilian, andChelonian _Reptilia_ have undergone, from the older Mesozoic times tothe present day, I cannot but put the existence of the common stockfrom which they sprang far back in the Palaeozoic epoch; and I shouldapply a similar argumentation to all other groups of animals. 

IV. Professor Haeckel proposes a number of modifications in Taxonomy, all of which are well worthy of consideration. Thus he establishes athird primary division of the living world, distinct from bothanimals and plants, under the name of the _Protista_, to include the_Myxomycetes_, the _Diatomaceae_, and the _Labyrinthulae_, which arecommonly regarded as plants, with the _Noctilucae_, the _Flagellata_, the _Rhizopoda_, the _Protoplasta_, and the _Monera_, which are mostgenerally included within the animal world. A like attempt has beenmade, by other writers, to escape the inconvenience of calling thesedubious organisms by the name of plant or animal; but I confess, it appears to me, that the inconvenience which is eluded in onedirection, by this step, is met in two others. Professor Haeckelhimself doubts whether the _Fungi_ ought not to be removed into his_Protista_. If they are not, indeed, the _Myxomycetes_ render thedrawing of every line of demarcation between _Protista_ and Plantsimpossible. But if they are, who is to define the _Fungi_ from the_Algae_? Yet the sea-weeds are surely, in every respect, plants. On the other hand, Professor Haeckel puts the sponges among the_Coelenterata_ (or polypes and corals), with the double inconvenience, as it appears to me, of separating the sponges from their immediatekindred, the _Protoplasta_, and destroying the definition of the_Coelenterata_. So again, the _Infusoria_ possess all the charactersof animality, but it can hardly be said that they are as clearlyallied to the worms as they are to the _Noctilucae_. 

On the whole, it appears to me to be most convenient to adhere tothe old plan of calling such of these low forms as are more animal inhabit, _Protozoa_, and such as are more vegetal, _Protophyta_. 

Another considerable innovation is the proposition to divide the classPisces into the four groups of _Leptocardia, Cyclostomata, Pisces_, and _Dipneusta_. As regards the establishment of a separate class forthe Lancelet _(Amphioxus)_, I think there can be little doubt of thepropriety of so doing, inasmuch as it is far more different from allother fishes than they are from one another. And there is much tobe said in favour of the same promotion of the _Cyclostomata_, orLampreys and Hags. But considering the close relation of theMudfish with the _Ganoidei_, and the wide differences between the_Elasmobranchii_ and the _Teleostei_, I greatly doubt the propriety ofseparating the _Dipneusta_, as a class, from the other _Pisces_. 

Professor Haeckel proposes to break up the vertebrate sub-kingdom, first, into the two provinces of _Leptocardia_ and _Pachycardia;Amphioxus_ being in the former, and all other vertebrates in thelatter division. The _Pachycardia_ are then divided into _Monorhina_, which contains the Cyclostome fishes, distinguished by their singlenasal aperture; and _Amphirhina_, comprising the other _Vertebrata_, which have two nasal apertures. These are further subdivided into_Anamnia (Pisces, Dipneusta, Amphibia)_ and _Amniota (Reptilia, Aves, Mammalia)_. This classification undoubtedly expresses many of the mostimportant facts in vertebrate structure in a clear and compendiousway; whether it is the best that can he adopted remains to be seen. 

With much reason the Lemurs are removed altogether from the_Primates_, under the name of _Prosimiae_. But I am surprised tofind the _Sirenia_ left in one group with the _Cetacea_, and the_Plesiosauria_ with the _Ichthyosauria_; the ordinal distinctness ofthese having, to my mind, been long since fully established. 

V. In Professor Haeckel's speculations on Phylogeny, or the genealogyof animal forms, there is much that is profoundly interesting, andhis suggestions are always supported by sound knowledge and greatingenuity. Whether one agrees or disagrees with him, one feels thathe has forced the mind into lines of thought in which it is moreprofitable to go wrong than to stand still. 

To put his views into a few words, he conceives that all forms of lifeoriginally commenced as _Monera_, or simple particles of protoplasm;and that these _Monera_ originated from not-living matter. Some of the_Monera_ acquired tendencies towards the Protistic, others towards theVegetal, and others towards the Animal modes of life. The last becameanimal _Monera_. Some of the animal _Monera_ acquired a nucleus, andbecame amoeba-like creatures; and, out of certain of these, ciliatedinfusorium-like animals were developed. These became modified into twostirpes: A, that of the worms; and B, that of the sponges. The latterby progressive modification gave rise to all the _Coelenterata_; theformer to all other animals. But A soon broke up into two principalstirpes, of which one, _a_, became the root of the _Annelida, Echinodermata_, and _Arthropoda_, while the other, _b_, gave rise tothe _Polyzoa_ and _Ascidioida_, and produced the two remaining stirpesof the _Vertebrata_ and the _Mollusca_. 

Perhaps the most startling proposition of all those which ProfessorHaeckel puts before us is that which he bases upon Kowalewsky'sresearches into the development of _Amphioxus_ and of the_Ascidioida_, that the origin of the _Vertebrata_ is to be soughtin an Ascidioid form. Goodsir long ago insisted upon the resemblancebetween _Amphioxus_ and the Ascidians; but the notion of a geneticconnection between the two, and especially the identification of thenotochord of the _Vertebrate_ with the axis of the caudal appendage ofthe larva of the Ascidian, is a novelty which, at first, takes one'sbreath away. I must confess, however, that the more I have ponderedover it, the more grounds appear in its favour, though I am notconvinced that there is any real parallelism between the modeof development of the ganglion of the _Ascidian_ and that of the_Vertebrate_ cerebro-spinal axis. 

The hardly less startling hypothesis that the _Echinoderms_ arecoalesced worms, on the other hand, appears to be open to seriousobjection. As a matter of anatomy, it does not seem to me tocorrespond with fact; for there is no worm with a calcareous skeleton, nor any which has a band-like ventral nerve, superficial to which liesan ambulacral vessel. And, as a question of development, the formationof the radiate _Echinoderm_ within its vermiform larva seems to meto be analogous to the formation of a radiate Medusa upon a Hydrozoicstock. But a Medusa is surely not the result of the coalescence of asmany organisms as it presents morphological segments. 

Professor Haeckel adduces the fossil _Crossopodia_ and _Phyllodocites_as examples of the Annelidan forms, by the coalescence of whichthe Echinoderms may have been produced; but, even supposing theresemblance of these worms to detached starfish arms to be perfect, it is possible that they may be the extreme term, and not thecommencement, of Echinoderm development. A pentacrinoid Echinoderm, with a complete jointed stalk, is developed within the larva of_Antedon_. Is it not possible that the larva of _Crossopodia_ may havedeveloped a vermiform Echinoderm?

With respect to the Phylogeny of the _Arthropoda_, I find myselfdisposed to take a somewhat different view from that of ProfessorHaeckel. He assumes that the primary stock of the whole group wasa crustacean, having that _Nauplius_ form in which Fritz Müllerhas shown that so many _Crustacea_ commence their lives. All the_Entomostraca_ arose by the modification of some one or other of theseNaupliform "_Archicarida_. " Other _Archicarida_ underwent a furthermetamorphosis into a _Zoaea_-form. From some of these "_Zoeopoda_"arose all the remaining Malacostracous _Crustacea_; while, fromothers, was developed some form analogous to the existing _Galeodes_, out of which proceeded, by gradual differentiation, all the_Myriapoda, Arachnida, _ and _Insecta_. 

I should, be disposed to interpret the facts of the embryologicalhistory and of the anatomy of the _Arthropoda_ in a different manner. The _Copepoda_, the _Ostracoda_, and the _Branchiopoda_ arethe _Crustacea_ which have departed least from the embryonic or_Nauplius_-forms; and, of these, I imagine that the _Copepoda_represent the hypothetical _Archicarida_ most closely. _Apus_ and_Sapphirina_ indicate the relations of these Archaeocarids with the_Trilobita_, and the _Eurypterida_ connect the _Trilobita_ and the_Copepoda_ with the _Xiphosura_. But the _Xiphosura_ have such closemorphological relations with the _Arachnida_, and especially with theoldest known Arachnidan, _Scorpio_, that I cannot doubt the existenceof a genetic connection between the two groups. On the other hand, the_Branchiopoda_ do, even at the present day, almost pass into thetrue _Podophthalmia_, by _Nebalia_. By the _Trilobita_, again, the_Archicarida_ are connected with such _Edriophthalmia_ as _Serolis_. The _Stomapoda_ are extremely modified _Edriophthalmia_ of theamphipod type. On the other side, the _Isopoda_ lead to the_Myriapoda_, and the latter to the _Insecta_. Thus the Arthropodphylum, which suggests itself to me, is that the branches of the_Podophthalmia_, of the _Insecta_ (with the _Myriapoda_), and of the_Arachnida_, spring separately and distinctly from the Archaeocaridroot--and that the _Zoaea_-forms occur only at the origin of thePodophthalmous branch. 

The phylum of the _Vertebrata_ is the most interesting of all, and isadmirably discussed by Professor Haeckel. I can note only a few pointswhich seem to me to be open to discussion. The _Monorhina_, havingbeen developed out of the _Leptocardia_, gave rise, according toProfessor Haeckel, to a shark-like form, which was the common stockof all the _Amphirhina_. From this "Protamphirhine" were developed, indivergent lines, the true Sharks, Rays, and _Chimaerae_; the Ganoids, and the _Dipneusta_. The _Teleostei_ are modified _Ganoidei_. The_Dipneusta_ gave rise to the _Amphibia_, which are the root of allother _Vertebrata_, inasmuch as out of them were developed the first_Vertebrata_ provided with an amnion, or the _Protamniota_. The_Protamniota_ split up into two stems, one that of the _Mammalia_, theother common to _Reptilia_ and _Aves_. 

The only modification which it occurs to me to suggest in thisgeneral view of the Phylogeny of the _Vertebrata_ is, that the"Protamphirhine" was possibly more ganoid than shark-like. So far asour present information goes the Ganoids are as old as the Sharks;and it is very interesting to observe that the remains of the oldestGanoids, _Cephalaspis_ and _Pteraspis_, have as yet displayed no traceof jaws. It is just possible that they may connect the _Monorhina_, with the Sturgeons among the _Amphirhina_. On the other hand, the Crossopterygian Ganoids exhibit the closest connection with_Lepidosiren_, and thereby with the _Amphibia_. It should not beforgotten that the development of the Lampreys exhibits curious pointsof resemblance with that of the _Amphibia_, which are absent inthe Sharks and Rays. Of the development of the _Ganoidei_ we haveunfortunately no knowledge, but their brains and their reproductiveorgans are more amphibian than are those of the Sharks. 

On the whole, I am disposed to think that the direct stem of ascentfrom the _Monorhina_ to the _Amphibia_ is formed by the Ganoids andthe Mudfishes; while the Osseous fishes and the Sharks are branches indifferent directions from this stem. 

What the _Protamniota_ were like, I do not suppose any one is in aposition to say, but I cannot think that the thoroughly Lacertian_Protorosaurus_ had anything to do with them. The reptiles which aremost amphibian in their characters, and therefore, probably, mostnearly approach the _Protamniota_, are the _Ichthyosauria_ and the_Chelonia_. 

That the _Didelphia_ were developed out of some ornithodelphous form, as Professor Haeckel supposes, seems to be unquestionable; but theexisting Opossums and Kangaroos are certainly extremely modified andremote from their ancestors the "_Prodidelphia_, " of which we havenot, at present the slightest knowledge. The mode of origin of the_Monodelphia_ from these is a very difficult problem, for the mostpart left open by Professor Haeckel. He considers the _Prosimiae_, orLemurs, to be the common stock of the _Deciduata_, and the _Cetacea_(with which he includes the _Sirenia_) to be modified _Ungulata_. Asregards the latter question, I have little doubt that the _Sirenia_connect the _Ungulata_ with the _Proboscidea_; and none, that the_Cetacea_ are extremely modified _Carnivora_. The passage between theSeals and the _Cetacea_ by _Zeuglodon_ is complete. I also thinkthat there is much to be said for the opinion, that the _Insectivora_represent the common stock of the _Primates_ (which passed intothem by the _Prosimiae_), the _Cheiroptera_, the _Rodentia_, and the_Carnivora_. And I am greatly disposed to look for the common rootof all the _Ungulata_, as well, in some ancient non-deciduate Mammalswhich were more like _Insectivora_ than anything else. On the otherhand, the _Edentata_ appear to form a series by themselves. 

The latter part of this notice of the _NatürlicheSchöpfungs-Geschichte_, brings so strongly into prominence the pointsof difference between its able author and myself, that I do not liketo conclude without reminding the reader of my entire concurrence withthe general tenor and spirit of the work, and of my high estimate ofits value. 

XII. 

BISHOP BERKELEY ON THE METAPHYSICS OF SENSATION. [1]

Professor Fraser has earned the thanks of all students of philosophyfor the conscientious labour which he has bestowed upon his newedition of the works of Berkeley; in which, for the first time, wefind collected together every thought which can be traced to thesubtle and penetrating mind of the famous Bishop of Cloyne; while the"Life and Letters" will rejoice those who care less for the idealistand the prophet of tar-water, than for the man who stands out as oneof the noblest and purest figures of his time: that Berkeley from whomthe jealousy of Pope did not withhold a single one of all "the virtuesunder heaven;" nor the cynicism of Swift, the dignity of "one of thefirst men of the kingdom for learning and virtue;" the man whom thepious Atterbury could compare to nothing less than an angel; and whosepersonal influence and eloquence filled the Scriblerus Club and theHouse of Commons with enthusiasm for the evangelization of the NorthAmerican Indians; and even led Sir Robert Walpole to assent to theappropriation of public money to a scheme which was neither businessnor bribery. [2]

[Footnote 1: "The Works of George Berkeley, D. D. , formerly Bishopof Cloyne, including many of his Works hitherto unpublished, withPreface, Annotations, his Life and Letters, and an Account of hisPhilosophy. " By A. C. Fraser. Four vols. Oxford: Clarendon Press. 1871. ]

[Footnote 2: In justice to Sir Robert, however, it is proper to remarkthat he declared afterwards, that he gave his assent to Berkeley'sscheme for the Bermuda University only because he thought the House ofCommons was sure to throw it out. ]

Hardly any epoch in the intellectual history of England is moreremarkable in itself, or possesses a greater interest for us in theselatter days, than that which coincides broadly with the conclusion ofthe seventeenth and the opening of the eighteenth century. 

The political fermentation of the preceding age was gradually workingitself out; domestic peace gave men time to think; and the tolerationwon by the party of which Locke was the spokesman, permitted a freedomof speech and of writing such as has rarely been exceeded in latertimes. 

Fostered by these circumstances, the great faculty for physical andmetaphysical inquiry, with which the people of our race are naturallyendowed, developed itself vigorously; and at least two of its productshave had a profound and a permanent influence upon the subsequentcourse of thought in the world. The one of these was EnglishFreethinking; the other, the Theory of Gravitation. 

Looking back to the origin of the intellectual impulses of which thesewere the results, we are led to Herbert, to Hobbes, to Bacon; and toone who stands in advance of all these, as the most typical man of histime--Descartes. It is the Cartesian doubt--the maxim that assent mayproperly be given to no propositions but such as are perfectlyclear and distinct--which, becoming incarnate, so to speak, in theEnglishmen, Anthony Collins, Toland, Tindal, Woolston, and in thewonderful Frenchman, Pierre Bayle, reached its final term in Hume. 

And, on the other hand, although the theory of Gravitation setaside the Cartesian vortices--yet the spirit of the "Principes dePhilosophie" attained its apotheosis when Newton demonstrated all thehost of heaven to be but the elements of a vast mechanism, regulatedby the same laws as those which govern the falling of a stone to theground. There is a passage in the preface to the first edition of the"Principia" which shows that Newton was penetrated, as completelyas Descartes, with the belief that all the phenomena of nature areexpressible in terms of matter and motion. 

"Would that the rest of the phenomena of nature could be deduced bya like kind of reasoning from mechanical principles. For manycircumstances lead me to suspect that all these phenomena may dependupon certain forces, in virtue of which the particles of bodies, bycauses not yet known, are either mutually impelled against one anotherand cohere into regular figures, or repel and recede from one another;which forces being unknown, philosophers have as yet explored naturein vain. But I hope that, either by this method of philosophizing, orby some other and better, the principles here laid down may throw somelight upon the matter. "[1]

[Footnote 1: "Utinam caetera naturae phaenomena ex principiismechanicis, eodem argumentandi genere, derivare licet. Nam multa memovent, ut nonnihil suspicer ca omnia ex viribus quibusdam pendereposse, quibus corporum particulae, per causas nondum cognitas, vel inse mutuo impelluntur et secundum figuras regulares cohaerent vel abinvicem fugantur et reced ent: quibus viribus ignotis, Philosophihactenus Naturam frustra tentarunt. Spero autem quod vel huicphilosophandi modo, vel veriori, alicui, principia hic posita lucemaliquam praebebunt. "--Preface to First Edition of _Principia_, May 8, 1686. ]

But the doctrine that all the phenomena of nature are resolvable intomechanism is what people have agreed to call "materialism;" and whenLocke and Collins maintained that matter may possibly be ableto think, and Newton himself could compare infinite space to thesensorium of the Deity, it was not wonderful that the Englishphilosophers should be attacked as they were by Leibnitz in the famousletter to the Princess of Wales, which gave rise to his correspondencewith Clarke. [1]

[Footnote 1: "Collection of Papers which passed between the latelearned Mr. Leibnitz and Dr. Clarke. "--1717. ]

"1. Natural religion itself seems to decay [in England] very much. Many will have human souls to be material; others make God Himself acorporeal Being. 

"2. Mr. Locke and his followers are uncertain, at least, whether thesoul be not material and naturally perishable. 

"3. Sir Isaac Newton says that space is an organ which God makes useof to perceive things by. But if God stands in need of any organ toperceive things by, it will follow that they do not depend altogetherupon Him, nor were produced by Him. 

"4. Sir Isaac Newton and his followers have also a very odd opinionconcerning the work of God. According to their doctrine, God Almightywants to wind up His watch from time to time; otherwise it would ceaseto move. [1] He had not, it seems, sufficient foresight to make it aperpetual motion. Nay, the machine of God's making is so imperfect, according to these gentlemen, that He is obliged to clean it nowand then by an extraordinary concourse, and even to mend it as aclockmaker mends his work. "

[Footnote 1: Goethe seems to have had this saying of Leibnitz in hismind when he wrote his famous lines--

"Was wär' ein Gott der nur von aussen stiesse Im Kreis das All amFinger laufen liesse. "]

It is beside the mark, at present, to inquire how far Leibnitz paintsa true picture, and how far he is guilty of a spiteful caricature ofNewton's views in these passages; and whether the beliefs which Lockeis known to have entertained are consistent with the conclusions whichmay logically be drawn from some parts of his works. It is undeniablethat English philosophy in Leibnitz's time had the general characterwhich he ascribes to it. The phenomena of nature were held to beresolvable into the attractions and the repulsions of particlesof matter; all knowledge was attained through the senses; the mindantecedent to experience was a _tabula rasa_. In other words, at thecommencement of the eighteenth century, the character of speculativethought in England was essentially sceptical, critical, andmaterialistic. Why "materialism" should be more inconsistent with theexistence of a Deity, the freedom of the will, or the immortalityof the soul, or with any actual or possible system of theology, than"idealism, " I must declare myself at a loss to divine. But in theyear 1700 all the world appears to have been agreed, Tertulliannotwithstanding, that materialism necessarily leads to very dreadfulconsequences. And it was thought that it conduced to the interests ofreligion and morality to attack the materialists with all the weaponsthat came to hand. Perhaps the most interesting controversy whicharose out of these questions is the wonderful triangular duel betweenDodwell, Clarke, and Anthony Collins, concerning the materiality ofthe soul, and--what all the disputants considered to be the necessaryconsequence of its materiality--its natural mortality. I do not thinkthat anyone can read the letters which passed between Clarke andCollins, without admitting that Collins, who writes with wonderfulpower and closeness of reasoning, has by far the best of the argument, so far as the possible materiality of the soul goes; and that, in thisbattle, the Goliath of Freethinking overcame the champion of what wasconsidered Orthodoxy. 

But in Dublin, all this while, there was a little David practisinghis youthful strength upon the intellectual lions and bears of TrinityCollege. This was George Berkeley, who was destined to give the samekind of development to the idealistic side of Descartes' philosophy, that the Freethinkers had given to its sceptical side, and theNewtonians to its mechanical side. 

Berkeley faced the problem boldly. He said to the materialists: "Youtell me that all the phenomena of nature are resolvable into matterand its affections. I assent to your statement, and now I put to youthe further question, 'What is matter?' In answering this question youshall be bound by your own conditions; and I demand, in the terms ofthe Cartesian axiom, that in turn you give your assent only to suchconclusions as are perfectly clear and obvious. "

It is this great argument which is worked out in the "Treatiseconcerning the Principles of Human Knowledge, " and in those "Dialoguesbetween Hylas and Philonous, " which rank among the most exquisiteexamples of English style, as well as among the subtlest ofmetaphysical writings; and the final conclusion of which is summedup in a passage remarkable alike for literary beauty and for calmaudacity of statement. 

 "Some truths there are so near and obvious to the mind that a man need only open his eyes to see them. Such I take this important one to be, viz. , that all the choir of heaven and furniture of the earth--in a word, all those bodies which compose the mighty frame of the world--have not any substance without a mind; that their being is to be perceived or known; that consequently, so long as they are not actually perceived by me, or do not exist in my mind or that of any other created spirit, they must either have no existence at all or else subsist in the mind of some eternal spirit; it being perfectly unintelligible, and involving all the absurdity of abstraction, to attribute to any single part of them an existence independent of a spirit. "[1]

[Footnote 1: "Treatise concerning the Principles of Human Knowledge, "Part I. § 6. ]

Doubtless this passage sounds like the acme of metaphysical paradox, and we all know that "coxcombs vanquished Berkeley with a grin;" whilecommon-sense folk refuted him by stamping on the ground, or some suchother irrelevant proceeding. But the key to all philosophy lies in theclear apprehension of Berkeley's problem--which is neither more norless than one of the shapes of the greatest of all questions, "Whatare the limits of our faculties?" And it is worth any amount oftrouble to comprehend the exact nature of the argument by whichBerkeley arrived at his results, and to know by one's own knowledgethe great truth which he discovered--that the honest and rigorousfollowing up of the argument which leads us to materialism, inevitablycarries us beyond it. 

Suppose that I accidentally prick my finger with a pin. I immediatelybecome aware of a condition of my consciousness--a feeling which Iterm pain. I have no doubt whatever that the feeling is in myselfalone; and if anyone were to say that the pain I feel is somethingwhich inheres in the needle, as one of the qualities of thesubstance of the needle, we should all laugh at the absurdity of thephraseology. In fact, it is utterly impossible to conceive pain exceptas a state of consciousness. 

Hence, so far as pain is concerned, it is sufficiently obviousthat Berkeley's phraseology is strictly applicable to our power ofconceiving its existence--"its being is to be perceived or known, " and"so long as it is not actually perceived by me, or does not exist inmy mind, or that of any other created spirit, it must either have noexistence at all, or else subsist in the mind of some eternal spirit. "

So much for pain. Now let us consider an ordinary sensation. Let thepoint of the pin be gently rested upon the skin, and I become awareof a feeling or condition of consciousness quite different from theformer--the sensation of what I call "touch. " Nevertheless this touchis plainly just as much in myself as the pain was. I cannot for amoment conceive this something which I call touch as existing apartfrom myself, or a being capable of the same feelings as myself. Andthe same reasoning applies to all the other simple sensations. Amoment's reflection is sufficient to convince one that the smell, andthe taste, and the yellowness, of which we become aware when anorange is smelt, tasted, and seen, are as completely states of ourconsciousness as is the pain which arises if the orange happens tobe too sour. Nor is it less clear that every sound is a state of theconsciousness of him who hears it. If the universe contained onlyblind and deaf beings, it is impossible for us to imagine but thatdarkness and silence should reign everywhere. 

It is undoubtedly true, then, of all the simple sensations that, as Berkeley says, their "_esse_ is _percipi_"--their being is to be"perceived or known. " But that which perceives, or knows, is mindor spirit; and therefore that knowledge which the senses give us is, after all, a knowledge of spiritual phenomena. 

All this was explicitly or implicitly admitted, and, indeed, insistedupon, by Berkeley's contemporaries, and by no one more strongly thanby Locke, who terms smells, tastes, colours, sounds, and the like, "secondary qualities, " and observes, with respect to these "secondaryqualities, " that "whatever reality we by mistake attribute to them[they] are in truth nothing in the objects themselves. "

And again: "Flame is denominated hot and light; snow, white and cold;and manna, white and sweet, from the ideas they produce in us; whichqualities are commonly thought to be the same in these bodies; thatthose ideas are in us, the one the perfect resemblance of the otheras they are in a mirror; and it would by most men be judged veryextravagant if one should say otherwise. And yet he that will considerthat the same fire that at one distance produces in us the sensationof warmth, does at a nearer approach produce in us the far differentsensation of pain, ought to bethink himself what reason he has to saythat his idea of warmth, which was produced in him by the fire, is actually in the fire; and his idea of pain which the same fireproduced in him in the same way, is not in the fire. Why are whitenessand coldness in snow, and pain not, when it produces the one and theother idea in us; and can do neither but by the bulk, figure, number, and motion of its solid parts?"[1]

[Footnote 1: Locke, "Human Understanding, " Book II. Chap. Viii. §§ 14, 15. ]

Thus far then materialists and idealists are agreed. Locke andBerkeley, and all logical thinkers who have succeeded them, are ofone mind about secondary qualities--their being is to be perceived orknown--their materiality is, in strictness, a spirituality. 

But Locke draws a great distinction between the secondary qualities ofmatter, and certain others which he terms "primary qualities. " Theseare extension, figure, solidity, motion and rest, and number; and heis as clear that these primary qualities exist independently of themind, as he is that the secondary qualities have no such existence. 

 "The particular bulk, number, figure, and motion of the parts of fire and snow are really in them, whether anyone's senses perceive them or not, and therefore they may be called real qualities, because they really exist in those bodies; but light, heat, whiteness, or coldness, are no more really in them, than sickness, or pain, is in manna. Take away the sensation of them; let not the eyes see light or colours, nor the ears hear sounds; let the palate not taste, nor the nose smell; and all colours, tastes, odours and sounds, as they are such particular ideas, vanish and cease, and are reduced to their causes, i. E. Bulk, figure, and motion of parts. 

 "18. A piece of manna of sensible bulk is able to produce in us the idea of a round or square figure; and, by being removed from one place to another, the idea of motion. This idea of motion represents it as it really is in the manna moving; a circle and square are the same, whether in idea or existence, in the mind or in the manna; and thus both motion and figure are really in the manna, whether we take notice of them or no: this everybody is ready to agree to. "

So far as primary qualities are concerned, then, Locke is asthoroughgoing a realist as St. Anselm. In Berkeley, on the otherhand, we have as complete a representative of the nominalists andconceptualists--an intellectual descendant of Roscellinus and ofAbelard. And by a curious irony of fate, it is the nominalist who is, this time, the champion of orthodoxy, and the realist that of heresy. 

Once more let us try to work out Berkeley's principles for ourselves, and inquire what foundation there is for the assertion that extension, form, solidity, and the other "primary qualities, " have an existenceapart from mind. And for this purpose let us recur to our experimentwith the pin. 

It has been seen that when the finger is pricked with a pin, a stateof consciousness arises which we call pain; and it is admitted thatthis pain is not a something which inheres in the pin, but a somethingwhich exists only in the mind, and has no similitude elsewhere. 

But a little attention will show that this state of consciousness isaccompanied by another, which can by no effort be got rid of. I notonly have the feeling, but the feeling is localized. I am just ascertain that the pain is in my finger, as I am that I have it at all. Nor will any effort of the imagination enable me to believe that thepain is not in my finger. 

And yet nothing is more certain than that it is not, and cannot be, inthe spot in which I feel it, nor within a couple of feet of that spot. For the skin of the finger is connected by a bundle of fine nervousfibres, which run up the whole length of the arm, with the spinalmarrow and brain, and we know that the feeling of pain caused by theprick of a pin is dependent on the integrity of those fibres. Afterthey have been cut through close to the spinal cord, no pain will befelt, whatever injury is done to the finger; and if the ends whichremain in connection with the cord be pricked, the pain which ariseswill appear to have its seat in the finger just as distinctly asbefore. Nay, if the whole arm be cut off, the pain which arises frompricking the nerve stump will appear to be seated in the fingers, justas if they were still connected with the body. 

It is perfectly obvious, therefore, that the localization of thepain at the surface of the body is an act of the mind. It is an_extradition_ of that consciousness, which has its seat in thebrain, to a definite point of the body--which takes place without ourvolition, and may give rise to ideas which are contrary to fact. Wemight call this extradition of consciousness a reflex feeling, justas we speak of a movement which is excited apart from, or contrary to, our volition, as a reflex motion. Locality is no more in the pin thanpain is; of the former, as of the latter, it is true that "its beingis to be perceived, " and that its existence apart from a thinking mindis not conceivable. 

The foregoing reasoning will be in no way affected, if, instead ofpricking the finger, the point of the pin rests gently against it, soas to give rise merely to a tactile sensation. The tactile sensationis referred outwards to the point touched, and seems to exist there. But it is certain that it is not and cannot be there really, becausethe brain is the sole seat of consciousness; and, further, becauseevidence, as strong as that in favour of the sensation being in thefinger, can be brought forward in support of propositions which aremanifestly absurd. 

For example, the hairs and nails are utterly devoid of sensibility, as everyone knows. Nevertheless, if the ends of the nails or hairsare touched, ever so lightly, we feel that they are touched, and thesensation seems to be situated in the nails or hairs. Nay more, if awalking-stick a yard long is held firmly by the handle and the otherend is touched, the tactile sensation, which is a state of our ownconsciousness, is unhesitatingly referred to the end of the stick; andyet no one will say that it _is_ there. 

Let us now suppose that, instead of one pin's point resting againstthe end of my finger, there are two. Each of these can be known tome, as we have seen, only as a state of a thinking mind, referredoutwards, or localized. But the existence of these two states, somehowor other, generates in my mind a host of new ideas, which did not maketheir appearance when only one state was present. 

For example, I get the ideas of co-existence, of number, of distance, and of relative place or direction. But all these ideas are ideas ofrelations, and imply the existence of something which perceives thoserelations. If a tactile sensation is a state of the mind, and ifthe localization of that sensation is an act of the mind, how is itconceivable that a relation between two localized sensations shouldexist apart from the mind? It is, I confess, quite as easy for me toimagine that redness may exist apart from a visual sense, as it is tosuppose that co-existence, number, and distance can have any existenceapart from the mind of which they are ideas. 

Thus it seems clear that the existence of some, at any rate, ofLocke's primary qualities of matter, such as number and extension, apart from mind, is as utterly unthinkable as the existence of colourand sound under like circumstances. 

Will the others--namely, figure, motion and rest, andsolidity--withstand a similar criticism? I think not. For all these, like the foregoing, are perceptions by the mind of the relationsof two or more sensations to one another. If distance and place areinconceivable, in the absence of the mind, of which they are ideas, the independent existence of figure, which is the limitation ofdistance, and of motion, which is change of place, must be equallyinconceivable. Solidity requires more particular consideration, as itis a term applied to two very different things, the one of which issolidity of form, or geometrical solidity; while the other is solidityof substance, or mechanical solidity. 

If those motor nerves of a man by which volitions are converted intomotion were all paralysed, and if sensation remained only in the palmof his hand (which is a conceivable case), he would still be able toattain to clear notions of extension, figure, number, and motion, byattending to the states of consciousness which might be aroused by thecontact of bodies with the sensory surface of the palm. But it doesnot appear that such a person could arrive at any conception ofgeometrical solidity. For that which does not come in contact with thesensory surface is non-existent for the sense of touch; and a solidbody, impressed upon the palm of the hand, gives rise only to thenotion of the extension of that particular part of the solid which isin contact with the skin. 

Nor is it possible that the idea of outness (in the sense ofdiscontinuity with the sentient body) could be attained by such aperson; for, as we have seen, every tactile sensation is referred toa point either of the natural sensory surface itself, or of somesolid in continuity with that surface. Hence it would appear that theconception of the difference between the Ego and the non-Ego couldnot be attained by a man thus situated. His feelings would be hisuniverse, and his tactile sensations his "moenia mundi. " Time wouldexist for him as for us, but space would have only two dimensions. 

But now remove the paralysis from the motor apparatus, and give thepalm of the hand of our imaginary man perfect freedom to move, so asto be able to glide in all directions over the bodies with which it isin contact. Then with the consciousness of that mobility, the notionof space of three dimensions--which is "_Raum_" or "room" to move withperfect freedom--is at once given. But the notion that the tactilesurface itself moves, cannot be given by touch alone, which iscompetent to testify only to the fact of change of place, not to itscause. The idea of the motion of the tactile surface could not, infact, be attained, unless the idea of change of place were accompaniedby some state of consciousness, which does not exist when the tactilesurface is immoveable. This state of consciousness is what is termedthe muscular sense, and its existence is very easily demonstrable. 

Suppose the back of my hand to rest upon a table, and a sovereign torest upon the upturned palm, I at once acquire a notion of extension, and of the limit of that extension. The impression made by thecircular piece of gold is quite different from that which would bemade by a triangular, or a square, piece of the same size, and therebyI arrive at the notion of figure. Moreover, if the sovereign slidesover the palm, I acquire a distinct conception of change of placeor motion, and of the direction of that motion. For as the sovereignslides, it affects new nerve-endings, and gives rise to new states ofconsciousness. Each of them is definitely and separately localized bya reflex act of the mind, which, at the same time, becomes aware ofthe difference between two successive localizations; and therefore ofchange of place, which is motion. 

If, while the sovereign lies on the hand, the latter being kept quitesteady, the fore-arm is gradually and slowly raised; the tactilesensations, with all their accompaniments, remain exactly as theywere. But, at the same time, something new is introduced; namely, thesense of effort. If I try to discover where this sense of effort seemsto be, I find myself somewhat perplexed at first; but, if I hold thefore-arm in position long enough, I become aware of an obscure senseof fatigue, which is apparently seated either in the muscles of thearm, or in the integument directly over them. The fatigue seems to berelated to the sense of effort, in much the same way as the pain whichsupervenes upon the original sense of contact, when a pin is slowlypressed against the skin, is related to touch. 

A little attention will show that this sense of effort accompaniesevery muscular contraction by which the limbs, or other parts of thebody, are moved. By its agency the fact of their movement is known;while the direction of the motion is given by the accompanying tactilesensations. And, in consequence of the incessant association of themuscular and the tactile sensations, they become so fused togetherthat they are often confounded tinder the same name. 

If freedom to move in all directions is the very essence of thatconception of space of three dimensions which we obtain by the senseof touch; and if that freedom to move is really another name for thefeeling of unopposed effort, accompanied by that of change of place, it is surely impossible to conceive of such space as having existenceapart from that which is conscious of effort. 

But it may be said that we derive our conception of space of threedimensions not only from touch, but from vision; that if we do notfeel things actually outside us, at any rate we see them. And it wasexactly this difficulty which presented itself to Berkeley at theoutset of his speculations. He met it, with characteristic boldness, by denying that we do see things outside us; and, with no lesscharacteristic ingenuity, by devising that "New Theory of Vision"which has met with wider acceptance than any of his views, though ithas been the subject of continual controversies. [1]

[Footnote 1: I have not specifically alluded to the writings ofBailey, Mill, Abbott, and others, on this vexed question, not becauseI have failed to study them carefully, but because this is not aconvenient occasion for controversial discussion. Those who areacquainted with the subject, however, will observe that the view Ihave taken agrees substantially with that of Mr. Barley. ]

In the "Principles of Human Knowledge, " Berkeley himself tells us howhe was led to those views which he published in the "Essay towards theNew Theory of Vision. "

 "It will be objected that we see things actually without, or at a distance from us, and which consequently do not exist in the mind; it being absurd that those things which are seen at the distance of several miles, should be as near to us as our own thoughts. In answer to this, I desire it may be considered that in a dream we do oft perceive things as existing at a great distance off, and yet, for all that, those things are acknowledged to have their existence only in the mind. 

 "But for the fuller clearing of this point, it may be worth while to consider how it is that we perceive distance and things placed at a distance by sight. For that we should in truth see external space and bodies actually existing in it, some nearer, others further off, seems to carry with it some opposition to what hath been said of their existing nowhere without the mind. The consideration of this difficulty it was that gave birth to my 'Essay towards the New Theory of Vision, ' which was published not long since, wherein it is shown that distance, or outness, is neither immediately of itself perceived by sight, nor yet apprehended, or judged of, by lines and angles or anything that hath any necessary connection with it; but that it is only suggested to our thoughts by certain visible ideas and sensations attending vision, which, in their own nature, have no manner of similitude or relation either with distance, or with things placed at a distance; but by a connection taught us by experience, they come to signify and suggest them to us, after the same manner that words of any language suggest the ideas they are made to stand for; insomuch that a man born blind and afterwards made to see, would not, at first sight, think the things he saw to be without his mind or at any distance from him. "

The key-note of the Essay to which Berkeley refers in this passage isto be found in an italicized paragraph of section 127:--

 "_The extensions; figures, and motions perceived by sight are specifically distinct from the ideas of touch called by the same names; nor is there any such thing as an idea, or kind of idea, common to both senses_. "

It will be observed that this proposition expressly declares thatextension, figure, and motion, and consequently distance, areimmediately perceived by sight as well as by touch; but that visualdistance, extension, figure, and motion, are totally different inquality from the ideas of the same name obtained through the senseof touch. And other passages leave no doubt that such was Berkeley'smeaning. Thus in the 112th section of the same Essay, he carefullydefines the two kinds of distance, one visual, the other tangible:--

 "By the distance between any two points nothing more is meant than the number of intermediate points. If the given points are visible, the distance between them is marked out by the number of interjacent visible points; if they are tangible, the distance between, them is a line consisting of tangible points. "

Again, there are two sorts of magnitude or extension:--

 "It has been shown that there are two sorts of objects apprehended by sight, each whereof has its distinct magnitude or extension: the one properly tangible, _i. E. _ to be perceived and measured by touch, and not immediately falling under the sense of seeing; the other properly and immediately visible, by mediation of which the former is brought into view. "--§ 55. 

But how are we to reconcile these passages with others which will beperfectly familiar to every reader of the "New Theory of Vision "? As, for example:--

 "It is, I think, agreed by all, that distance of itself, and immediately, cannot be seen. "--§ 2. 

 "Space or distance, we have shown, is no otherwise the object of sight than of hearing. "--§ 130. 

 "Distance is in its own nature imperceptible, and yet it is perceived by sight. It remains, therefore, that it is brought into view by means of some other idea, that is itself immediately perceived in the act of vision. "--§ 11. 

 "Distance or external space. "--§ 155. 

The explanation is quite simple, and lies in the fact that Berkeleyuses the word "distance" in three senses. Sometimes he employs it todenote visible distance, and then he restricts it to distance in twodimensions, or simple extension. Sometimes he means tangible distancein two dimensions; but most commonly he intends to signify tangibledistance in the third dimension. And it is in this sense that heemploys "distance" as the equivalent of "space. " Distance in twodimensions is, for Berkeley, not space, but extension. By taking apencil and interpolating the words "visible" and "tangible" before"distance" wherever the context renders them necessary, Berkeley'sstatements may be made perfectly consistent; though he has not alwaysextricated himself from the entanglement caused by his own loosephraseology, which rises to a climax in the last ten sections ofthe "Theory of Vision, " in which he endeavours to prove that a pureintelligence able to see, but devoid of the sense of touch, could haveno idea of a plane figure. Thus he says in section 156:--

 "All that is properly perceived by the visual faculty amounts to no more than colours with their variations and different proportions of light and shade; but the perpetual mutability and fleetingness of those immediate objects of sight render them incapable of being managed after the manner of geometrical figures, nor is it in any degree useful that they should. It is true there be divers of them perceived at once, and more of some and less of others; but accurately to compute their magnitude, and assign precise determinate proportions between things so variable and inconstant, if we suppose it possible to be done, must yet be a very trifling and insignificant labour. "

If, by this, Berkeley means that by vision alone, a straight linecannot be distinguished from a curved one, a circle from a square, a long line from a short one, a large angle from a small one, hisposition is surely absurd in itself and contradictory to his ownpreviously cited admissions; if he only means, on the other hand, thathis pure spirit could not get very far on in his geometry, it may betrue or not; but it is in contradiction with his previous assertion, that such a pure spirit could never attain to know as much as thefirst elements of plane geometry. 

Another source of confusion, which arises out of Berkeley'sinsufficient exactness in the use of language, is to be found in whathe says about solidity, in discussing Molyneux's problem, whether aman born blind and having learned to distinguish between a cube and asphere, could, on receiving his sight, tell the one from the otherby vision. Berkeley agrees with Locke that he could not, and adds thefollowing reflection:--

 "Cube, sphere, table, are words he has known applied to things perceivable by touch, but to things perfectly intangible he never knew them applied. Those words in their wonted application always marked out to his mind bodies or solid things which were perceived by the resistance they gave. But there is no solidity, no resistance or protrusion perceived by sight. "

Here "solidity" means resistance to pressure, which is apprehended bythe muscular sense; but when in section 154 Berkeley says of his pureintelligence--

 "It is certain that the aforesaid intelligence could have no idea of a solid or quantity of three dimensions, which follows from its not having any idea of distance "--

he refers to that notion of solidity which may be obtained by thetactile sense, without the addition of any notion of resistance in thesolid object; as, for example, when the finger passes lightly over thesurface of a billiard ball. 

Yet another source of difficulty in clearly understanding Berkeleyarises out of his use of the word "outness. " In speaking of touchhe seems to employ it indifferently, both for the localization ofa tactile sensation in the sensory surface, which we really obtainthrough touch; and for the notion of corporeal separation, which isattained by the association of muscular and tactile sensations. Inspeaking of sight, on the other hand, Berkeley employs "outness" todenote corporeal separation. 

When due allowance is made for the occasional looseness and ambiguityof Berkeley's terminology, and the accessories are weeded out of theessential parts of his famous Essay, his views may, I believe, befairly and accurately summed up in the following propositions:--

1. The sense of touch gives rise to ideas of extension, figure, magnitude, and motion. 

2. The sense of touch gives rise to the idea of "outness, " in thesense of localization. 

3. The sense of touch gives rise to the idea of resistance, and thenceto that of solidity, in the sense of impenetrability. 

4. The sense of touch gives rise to the idea of "outness, " in thesense of distance in the third dimension, and thence to that of space, or geometrical solidity. 

5. The sense of sight gives rise to ideas of extension, of figure, magnitude, and motion. 

6. The sense of sight does not give rise to the idea of "outness, "in the sense of distance in the third dimension, nor to that ofgeometrical solidity, no visual idea appearing to be without the mind, or at any distance off (§§ 43, 50). 

7. The sense of sight does not give rise to the idea of mechanicalsolidity. 

8. There is no likeness whatever between the tactile ideas calledextension, figure, magnitude, and motion, and the visual ideas whichgo by the same names; nor are any ideas common to the two senses. 

9. When we think we see objects at a distance, what really happensis that the visual picture suggests that the object seen has tangibledistance; we confound the strong belief in the tangible distance ofthe object with actual sight of its distance. 

10. Visual ideas, therefore, constitute a kind of language, by whichwe are informed of the tactile ideas which will, or may, arise in us. 

Taking these propositions into consideration _seriatim_, it may beassumed that everyone will assent to the first and second; and thatfor the third and fourth we have only to include the muscular sensetinder the name of sense of touch, as Berkeley did, in order to makeit quite accurate. Nor is it intelligible to me that anyone shouldexplicitly deny the truth of the fifth proposition, though someof Berkeley's supporters, less careful than himself, have done so. Indeed, it must be confessed that it is only grudgingly, and as itwere against his will, that Berkeley admits that we obtain ideas ofextension, figure, and magnitude by pure vision, and that he more thanhalf retracts the admission; while he absolutely denies that sightgives us any notion of outness in either sense of the word, and evendeclares that "no proper visual idea appears to be without the mind, or at any distance off. " By "proper visual ideas, " Berkeley denotescolours, and light, and shade; and, therefore, he affirms that coloursdo not appear to be at any distance from us. I confess that thisassertion appears to me to be utterly unaccountable. I have madeendless experiments on this point, and by no effort of the imaginationcan I persuade myself, when looking at a colour, that the colour isin my mind, and not at a "distance off, " though of course I knowperfectly well, as a matter of reason, that colour is subjective. Itis like looking at the sun setting, and trying to persuade oneselfthat the earth appears to move and not the sun, a feat I have neverbeen able to accomplish. Even when the eyes are shut, the darknessof which one is conscious, carries with it the notion of outness. Onelooks, so to speak, into a dark space. Common language expresses thecommon experience of mankind in this matter. A man will say that asmell is in his nose, a taste in his mouth, a singing in his ears, acreeping or a warmth in his skin; but if he is jaundiced, he does notsay that he has yellow in his eyes, but that everything looks yellow;and if he is troubled with _muscae volitantes_, he says, not that hehas specks in his eyes, but that he sees specks dancing before hiseyes. In fact, it appears to me that it is the special peculiarityof visual sensations, that they invariably give rise to the idea ofremoteness, and that Berkeley's dictum ought to be reversed. For Ithink that anyone who interrogates his consciousness carefully willfind that "every proper visual idea" appears to be without the mindand at a distance off. 

Not only does every _visibile_ appear to be remote, but it has aposition in external space, just as a _tangibile_ appears to besuperficial and to have a determinate position on the surface ofthe body. Every _visibile_, in fact, appears (approximately) to besituated upon a line drawn from it to the point of the retina on whichits image falls. It is referred outwards, in the general direction ofthe pencil of light by which it is rendered visible, just as, in theexperiment with the stick, the _tangibile_ is referred outwards to theend of the stick. 

It is for this reason that an object, viewed with both eyes, is seensingle and not double. Two distinct images are formed, but each imageis referred to that point at which the two optic axes intersect;consequently, the two images exactly cover one another, and appear ascompletely one as any other two exactly similar superimposed imageswould be. And it is for the same reason, that, if the ball of theeye is pressed upon at any point, a spot of light appears apparentlyoutside the eye, and in a region exactly opposite to that in which thepressure is made. 

But while it seems to me that there is no reason to doubt that theextradition of sensation is more complete in the case of the eye thanin that of the skin, and that corporeal distinctness, and hence space, are directly suggested by vision, it is another, and a much moredifficult question, whether the notion of geometrical solidity isattainable by pure vision; that is to say, by a single eye, all theparts of which are immoveable. However this may be, for an absolutelyfixed eye, I conceive there can be no doubt in the case of an eye thatis moveable and capable of adjustment. For, with the moveable eye, the muscular sense comes into play in exactly the same way as with themoveable hand; and the notion of change of place, _plus_ the sense ofeffort, gives rise to a conception of visual space, which runs exactlyparallel with that of tangible space. When two moveable eyes arepresent, the notion of space of three dimensions is obtained in thesame way as it is by the two hands, but with, much greater precision. 

And if, to take a case similar to one already assumed, we suppose aman deprived of every sense except vision, and of all motion exceptthat of his eyes, it surely cannot be doubted that he would have aperfect conception of space; and indeed a much more perfect conceptionthan he who possessed touch alone without vision. But of course ourtouchless man would be devoid of any notion of resistance; and hencespace, for him, would be altogether geometrical and devoid of body. 

And here another curious consideration arises, what likeness, ifany, would there be between the visual space of the one man, and thetangible space of the other?

Berkeley, as we have seen (in the eighth proposition), declares thatthere is no likeness between the ideas given by sight and those givenby touch; and one cannot but agree with him, so long as the term ideasis restricted to mere sensations. Obviously, there is no more likenessbetween the feel of a surface and the colour of it, than there isbetween its colour and its smell. All simple sensations, derivedfrom different senses, are incommensurable with one another, and onlygradations of their own intensity are comparable. And thus so far asthe primary facts of sensation go, visual figure and tactile figure, visual magnitude and tactile magnitude, visual motion and tactilemotion, are truly unlike, and have no common term. But when Berkeleygoes further than this, and declares that there are no "ideas" commonto the "ideas" of touch and those of sight, it appears to me that hehas fallen into a great error, and one which is the chief source ofhis paradoxes about geometry. 

Berkeley in fact employs the word "idea" in this instance to denotetwo totally different classes of feelings, or states of consciousness. For these may be divided into two groups: the primary feelings, which exist in themselves and without relation to any other, such aspleasure and pain, desire, and the simple sensations obtained throughthe sensory organs; and the secondary feelings, which express thoserelations of primary feelings which are perceived by the mind; and theexistence of which, therefore, implies the pre-existence of at leasttwo of the primary feelings. Such are likeness and unlikeness inquality, quantity, or form; succession and contemporaneity; contiguityand distance; cause and effect; motion and rest. 

Now it is quite true that there is no likeness between the primaryfeelings which are grouped under sight and touch; but it appears to mewholly untrue, and indeed absurd, to affirm that there is no likenessbetween the secondary feelings which express the relations of theprimary ones. 

The relation of succession perceived between the visible taps ofa hammer, is, to my mind, exactly like the relation of successionbetween the tangible taps; the unlikeness between red and blue is amental phenomenon of the same order as the unlikeness between roughand smooth. Two points visibly distant are so, because one or moreunits of visible length _(minima visibilia_) are interposed betweenthem; and as two points tangibly distant are so, because one or moreunits of tangible length _(minima tangibilia_) are interposed betweenthem, it is clear that the notion of interposition of units ofsensibility, or _minima sensibilia_, is an idea common to the two. Andwhether I see a point move across the field of vision towards anotherpoint, or feel the like motion, the idea of the gradual diminution ofthe number of sensible units between the two points appears to me tobe common to both kinds of motion. 

Hence, I conceive, that though it be true that there is no likenessbetween the primary feelings given by sight and those given by touch, yet there is a complete likeness between the secondary feelingsaroused by each sense. 

Indeed, if it were not so, how could Logic, which deals with thoseforms of thought which are applicable to every kind of subject-matter, be possible? How could numerical proportion be as true of _visibilia_, as of _tangibilia_, unless there were some ideas common to the two?And to come directly to the heart of the matter, is there any moredifference between the relations between tangible sensations which wecall place and direction, and those between visible sensations whichgo by the same name, than there is between those relations of tangibleand visible sensations which we call succession? And if there benone, why is Geometry not just as much a matter of _visibilia_ as of_tangibilia_?

Moreover, as a matter of fact, it is certain that the muscular senseis so closely connected with both the visual and the tactile senses, that, by the ordinary laws of association, the ideas which it suggestsmust needs be common to both. 

From what has been said it will follow that the ninth propositionfalls to the ground; and that vision, combined with the muscularsensations produced by the movement of the eyes, gives us as completea notion of corporeal separation and of distance in the thirddimension of space, as touch, combined with the muscular sensationsproduced by the movements of the hand, does. The tenth propositionseems to contain a perfectly true statement, but it is only halfthe truth. It is no doubt true that our visual ideas are a kind oflanguage by which we are informed of the tactile ideas which may orwill arise in us; but this is true, more or less, of every sense inregard to every other. If I put my hand in my pocket, the tactileideas which I receive prophesy quite accurately what I shallsee--whether a bunch of keys or half-a-crown--when I pull it outagain; and the tactile ideas are, in this case, the language whichinforms me of the visual ideas which will arise. So with the othersenses: olfactory ideas tell me I shall find the tactile and visualphenomena called violets, if I look for them; taste tells me thatwhat I am tasting will, if I look at it, have the form of a clove; andhearing warns me of what I shall, or may, see and touch every minuteof my life. 

But while the "New Theory of Vision" cannot be considered to possessmuch value in relation to the immediate object its author had in view, it had a vastly important influence in directing attention to the realcomplexity of many of those phenomena of sensation, which appear atfirst to be simple. And even if Berkeley was, as I imagine he was, quite wrong in supposing that we do not see space, the contrarydoctrine makes quite as strongly for his general view, that space canbe conceived only as something thought by a mind. 

The last of Locke's "primary qualities" which remain to be consideredis mechanical solidity, or impenetrability. But our conception of thisis derived from the sense of resistance to our own effort, or activeforce, which we meet with in association with sundry tactile or visualphenomena; and, undoubtedly, active force is inconceivable except as astate of consciousness. This may sound paradoxical; but let anyone tryto realize what he means by the mutual attraction of two particles, and I think he will find, either, that he conceives them simply asmoving towards one another at a certain rate, in which case he onlypictures motion to himself, and leaves force aside; or, that heconceives each particle to be animated by something like his ownvolition, and to be pulling as he would pull. And I suppose that thisdifficulty of thinking of force except as something comparable tovolition, lies at the bottom of Leibnitz's doctrine of monads, to saynothing of Schopenhauer's "Welt als Wille und Vorstellung;" while theopposite difficulty of conceiving force to be anything like volition, drives another school of thinkers into the denial of any connection, save that of succession, between cause and effect. 

 * * * * *

To sum up. If the materialist affirms that the universe and all itsphenomena are resolvable into matter and motion, Berkeley replies, True; but what you call matter and motion are known to us only asforms of consciousness; their being is to be conceived or known; andthe existence of a state of consciousness, apart from a thinking mind, is a contradiction in terms. 

I conceive that this reasoning is irrefragable. And therefore, ifI were obliged to choose between absolute materialism and absoluteidealism, I should feel compelled to accept the latter alternative. Indeed, upon this point Locke does, practically, go as far in thedirection of idealism, as Berkeley, when he admits that "the simpleideas we receive from sensation and reflection are the boundaries ofour thoughts, beyond which the mind, whatever efforts it would make, is not able to advance one jot. "--Book II. Chap, xxiii. § 29. 

But Locke adds, "Nor can it make any discoveries when it would pryinto the nature and hidden causes of these ideas. "

Now, from this proposition, the thorough materialists dissent as much, on the one hand, as Berkeley does, upon the other hand. 

The thorough materialist asserts that there is a something which hecalls the "substance" of matter; that this something is the cause ofall phenomena, whether material or mental; that it is self-existentand eternal, and so forth. 

Berkeley, on the contrary, asserts with equal confidence that there isno substance of matter, but only a substance of mind, which he termsspirit; that there are two kinds of spiritual substance, the oneeternal and uncreated, the substance of the Deity, the other created, and, once created, naturally eternal; that the universe, as knownto created spirits, has no being in itself, but is the result ofthe action of the substance of the Deity on the substance of thosespirits. 

In contradiction to which bold assertion, Locke affirms that we simplyknow nothing about substance of any kind. [1]

[Footnote 1: Berkeley virtually makes the same confession ofignorance, when he admits that we can have no idea or notion of aspirit ("Principles of Human Knowledge, " § 138); and the way in whichhe tries to escape the consequences of this admission, is a splendidexample of the floundering of a mired logician. ]

 "So that if anyone will examine himself concerning his notion of pure substance in general, he will find he has no other idea of it at all, but only a supposition of he knows not what support of such qualities, which are capable of producing simple ideas in us, which qualities are commonly called accidents. 

 "If anyone should be asked, what is the subject wherein colour or weight inheres? he would have nothing to say but the solid extended parts; and if he were demanded what is it that solidity and extension inhere in? he would not be in much better case than the Indian before mentioned, who, urging that the world was supported by a great elephant, was asked what the elephant rested on? to which his answer was, a great tortoise. But being again pressed to know what gave support to the broad-backed tortoise I replied, something, he knew not what. And thus here, as in all other cases when we use words without having clear and distinct ideas, we talk like children, who, being questioned what such a thing is, readily give this satisfactory answer, that it is something; which in truth signifies no more when so used, either by children or men, but that they know not what, and that the thing they pretend to talk and know of is what they have no distinct idea of at all, and are, so, perfectly ignorant of it and in the dark. The idea, then, we have, to which we give the general name substance, being nothing but the supposed but unknown support of those qualities we find existing, which we imagine cannot exist _sine re substante_, without something to support them, we call that support _substantia_, which, according to the true import of the word, is, in plain English, standing under or upholding. "[1]

[Footnote 1: Locke, "Human Understanding, " Book II. Chap, xiii. § 2. ]

I cannot but believe that the judgment of Locke is that whichPhilosophy will accept as her final decision. 

Suppose that a piano were conscious of sound, and of nothing else. Itwould become acquainted with a system of nature entirely composedof sounds, and the laws of nature would be the laws of melody and ofharmony. It might acquire endless ideas of likeness and unlikeness, ofsuccession, of similarity and dissimilarity, but it could attain to noconception of space, of distance, or of resistance; or of figure, orof motion. 

The piano might then reason thus: All my knowledge consists of soundsand the perception of the relations of sounds; now the being of soundis to be heard; and it is inconceivable that the existence of thesounds I know, should depend upon any other existence than that of themind of a hearing being. 

This would be quite as good reasoning as Berkeley's, and very soundand useful, so far as it defines the limits of the piano's faculties. But for all that, pianos have an existence quite apart from sounds, and the auditory consciousness of our speculative piano would bedependent, in the first place, on the existence of a "substance" ofbrass, wood, and iron, and, in the second, on that of a musician. Butof neither of these conditions of the existence of his consciousnesswould the phenomena of that consciousness afford him the slightesthint. 

So that while it is the summit of human wisdom to learn the limit ofour faculties, it may be wise to recollect that we have no more rightto make denials, than to put forth affirmatives, about what liesbeyond that limit. Whether either mind, or matter, has a "substance"or not, is a problem which we are incompetent to discuss; and it isjust as likely that the common notions upon the subject should becorrect as any others. Indeed, Berkeley himself makes Philonous windup his discussions with Hylas, in a couple of sentences which aptlyexpress this conclusion:--

 "You see, Hylas, the water of yonder fountain, how it is forced upwards in a round column to a certain height, at which it breaks and falls back into the basin from whence it rose; its ascent as well as its descent proceeding from the same uniform law or principle of gravitation. Just so, the same principles which, at first view, lead to scepticism, pursued to a certain point, bring men back to common sense. "

THE END.