transmitted in some cases. Galton mentions one noteworthy instance
relating to memory. In the family of Porson good memory was so notable
a faculty as to give rise to the byword, 'the Porson memory.' Lady
Hester Stanhope, says the late F. Papillon, 'she whose life was so
full of adventure, gives, as one among many points of resemblance
between herself and her grandfather, her retentive memory. "I have my
grandfather's grey eyes," said she, "and his memory of places. If he
saw a stone on the road, he remembered it; it is the same with myself.
His eye, which was ordinarily dull and lustreless, was lighted up, like
my own, with a dull gleam whenever he was seized with passion."'
In endeavouring to form an opinion on the law of heredity in its
relation to genius, we must remember that a remark somewhat similar to
one made by Huxley respecting the origin of new species applies to the
origin of a man of genius. Before such a man became celebrated no one
cared particularly to inquire about his ancestry or relations; when
his fame was established, the time for making the inquiry had passed
away. It is quite possible that, if we had exact and full information,
in a great number of cases we might find the position taken up by Mr
Galton and M. Ribot greatly strengthened; it is, however, also possible
that we might find it much weakened, not only by the recognition of a
multitude of cases in which the approach of a great man was in no sort
indicated by scintillations of brightness along the genealogical track,
but by a yet greater number of cases in which families containing
numbers of clever, witty, and learned folks have produced none who
attained real distinction.
There is an excellent remark in a thoughtful but anonymous paper on
Heredity in the _Quarterly Journal of Science_, two years or so ago,
which suggests some considerations well worth noting. 'If we look,'
says the writer, 'on the intellect as not a single force but a complex
of faculties, we shall find little to perplex us in the phenomenon of
spontaneity'--that is (in this case), in the appearance of a man of
genius in a family not before remarkable in any way. 'Suppose a family
who have possessed some of the attributes of greatness, but who, in
virtue of a principle equally true in psychology and in mechanics,
that "nothing is stronger than its weakest part," has remained in
obscurity. Let a man of this family marry a woman whose faculties are
the complement of his own. It is possible that a child of such a couple
may combine the defects or weaknesses of both parents, and we have
then the case of spontaneous imbecility or criminality. But it is also
possible that he may combine the excellences of both, and burst upon
the world as a spontaneous genius.... Again, we must remember that,
even if we consider the intellect as "one and indivisible," it is far
from being the only faculty needful for the attainment of excellence,
even in the fields of pure science. Combined with it there must be the
moral faculties of patience, perseverance, and concentration. The will
must be strong enough to overcome all distracting temptations, whether
in themselves good or evil. Lastly, there must be constitutional energy
and endurance. Failing these, the man will merely leave among his
friends the conviction that he might have achieved greatness, if----.
We once knew a physician, resident in a small country town, who from
time to time startled his associates by some profound and suggestive
idea, some brilliant _aperçu_. But a constitutional languor prevented
him from ever completing an investigation, or from leaving the world
one written line.'
The effect of circumstances also must not be overlooked. It is certain
that some of those who stand highest in the world's repute would have
done nothing to make their names remembered but for circumstances
which either aided their efforts or compelled them to exertion; and
it cannot be doubted, therefore, that many who have been by no means
celebrated have required but favouring opportunities or the spur of
adverse circumstances to have achieved distinction. We note the cases
in which men who have been intended by their parents for the desk or
routine work have fortunately been freed for nobler work, to which
their powers have specially fitted them. But we are apt to forget that
for each such case there must be many instances in which no fortunate
chance has intervened. The theory that genius _will_ make its way,
despite all obstacles, is like the popular notion that 'murder will
out,' and other such fancies. We note when events happen which favour
such notions, but we not only do not note--in the very nature of things
it is impossible that we should have the chance of noting--cases
unfavourable to a notion which, after all, is but a part of the general
and altogether erroneous idea that what we think ought to be, will be.
That among millions of men in a civilised community, trained under
multitudinous conditions, for diverse professions, trades, and so
forth, exposed to many vicissitudes of fortune, good and bad, there
should be men from time to time--
Who break their birth's invidious bar,
And grasp the skirts of happy chance,
And breast the blows of circumstance,
And grapple with their evil star,
is no truer proof of the general theory that genius will make its mark,
despite circumstance, than is the occasional occurrence of strange
instances in which murder has been detected despite seemingly perfect
precautions.
It must, however, be in a general sense admitted that mental powers,
like bodily powers, are inherited. If the ancestry of men of genius
could be traced, we should in each case probably find enough, in the
history of some line at least along which descent could be traced, to
account for the possession of special powers, and enough in the history
of that and other lines of descent to account for the other qualities
or characteristics which, combined with those special powers, gave to
the man's whole nature the capacity by which he was enabled to stand
above the average level of his fellow-men. We might, with knowledge at
once wider and deeper than we actually possess of the various families
of each nation, and their relationships, predict in many cases, not
that any given child would prove a genius, but that some one or other
of a family would probably rise to distinction. To predict the advent
of a man of great genius as we predict the approach of an eclipse or a
transit, will doubtless never be in men's power; but it is conceivable
that at some perhaps not very remote epoch, anticipations may be formed
somewhat like those which astronomers are able to make respecting the
recurrence of meteoric showers at particular times and seasons, and
visible in particular regions. Already we know so much as this, that
in certain races of men only can special forms of mental energy, like
special bodily characteristics, be expected to appear. It may well be
that hereafter such anticipations may be limited to special groups of
families.
When we pass from mental to moral qualities, we find ourselves in
the presence of problems which could not be thoroughly dealt with in
these pages. The general question, how far the moral characteristics
of each person born into the world depends on those of the parents, or
more generally of the ancestry, is one involving many considerations
which, perhaps unfortunately, have been associated with religious
questions. And apart from this, the answers to this question have been
found to have a very wide range--from the opinion of those who (like
Miss Martineau) consider that our characters, even where they seem
to undergo changes resulting from the exercise of will, are entirely
due to inheritance, to the view of those who consider, like Heinroth,
that no moral characteristic can possibly be regarded as inherited
in such sort as to modify either responsibility for evil-doing or
credit for well-doing. Probably most will be content to accept a view
between these extremes, without too nicely considering how far moral
responsibility is affected by the influence of inherited tendencies.
There are, however, some illustrations relating to exceptional habits,
which may be mentioned here without bringing in the general question.
I have not referred to insanity in speaking of inherited mental
qualities, because insanity must be regarded as a disease of the moral
rather than of the mental nature. Its origin may be in the mind, as
the origin of mental diseases is in the brain, that is, is in the
body; but the principal manifestations of insanity, those which must
guide us in determining its true position, are unquestionably those
relating to moral habitudes. Insanity is not always, or at least not
always demonstrably hereditary. Esquirol found among 1,375 lunatics 337
unquestionable cases of hereditary transmission. Guislain and others
regard hereditary lunacy as including, roughly, one-fourth of the cases
of insanity. Moreau and others hold that the proportion is greater. It
appears, however, that mental alienation is not the only form in which
the insanity of an ancestor may manifest itself. Dr. Morel gives the
following instructive illustration of the 'varied and odd complications
occurring in the hereditary transmission of nervous disease.' He
attended four brothers belonging to one family. The grandfather of
these children had died insane; their father had never been able to
continue long at anything; their uncle, a man of great intellect and a
distinguished physician, was noted for his eccentricities. Now these
four children, sprung from one stock, presented very different forms
of physical disorder. One of them was a maniac, whose wild paroxysms
occurred periodically. The disorder of the second was melancholy
madness; he was reduced by his stupor to a merely automatic condition.
The third was characterised by an extreme irascibility and suicidal
disposition. The fourth manifested a strong liking for art; but he was
of a timorous and suspicious nature. This story seems in some degree to
give support to the theory that genius and mental aberration are not
altogether alien; that, in fact,
Great wit to madness nearly is allied,
And thin partitions do their bounds divide.
Of the hereditary transmission of idiotcy we naturally have not the
same kind of evidence. Madness often, if not generally, comes on or
shows itself late in life, whereas idiotcy is not often developed in
the adult. Insanity is the diseased or weakened condition of a mind
possessing all the ordinary thinking faculties; idiotcy implies that
some of these faculties are altogether wanting. It has been asserted,
by the way, that idiotcy is a product of civilisation. The civilised
'present, as peoples,' says Dr. Duncan, 'indications of defective vital
force, which are not witnessed among those human beings that live in
a state of nature. There must be something rotten in some parts of
our boasted civilisation: and not only a something which has to do
with our psychology, but a great deal more with our power of physical
persistence. It is a fact that the type of the perfect minded, just
above the highest idiots, or the simpletons, is more distinguishable
amongst the most civilised of the civilised than among those who are
the so-called children of nature. Dolts, boobies, stupids, _et hoc
genus omne_, abound in young Saxondom; but their representatives are
rare amongst the tribes that are slowly disappearing before the white
man.' But it seems barely possible that the difference may be due to
the care with which civilised communities interfere to prevent the
elimination of idiot infants by the summary process of destroying them.
The writer from whom I have just quoted refers to the fact that, even
under the Roman Empire, as during the Republic, idiots were looked upon
as 'useless entities by the practical Roman.' They had no sanctity in
his eyes, and hence their probable rarity; doubtless the unfortunate
children were neglected, and there is much reason for believing that
they were 'exposed.' 'A congenital idiot soon begins to give trouble,'
proceeds Dr. Duncan, 'and to excite unusual attention; and, moreover,
unless extra care is given to it, death is sure to ensue in early
childhood.' May not idiot children in savage communities have an even
worse chance of survival than under the Roman Empire? and may not
dolts, boobies, and stupids, _et hoc genus omne_, among savages, have
such inferior chances in the infantine and later in the adult struggle
for existence, that we may explain thus the comparative rarity of
these varieties in savage communities? It certainly does not seem to
have been proved as yet that civilisation _per se_ is favourable to the
development of insanity.
The liking for strong drink, as is too well known, is often
transmitted. It is remarked by Dr. Howe that 'the children of drunkards
are deficient in bodily and vital energy, and are predisposed by their
very organisation to have cravings for alcoholic stimulants. If they
pursue the course of their fathers, which they have more temptation
to follow and less power to avoid than the children of the temperate,
they add to their hereditary weakness, and increase the tendency to
idiotcy or insanity in their constitution; and this they leave to their
children after them.' Whatever opinion we may form on the general
question of responsibility for offences of commission or of omission,
on this special point all who are acquainted with the facts must
agree, admitting that in some cases of inherited craving for alcoholic
stimulants the responsibility of those who have failed and fallen in
the struggle has been but small. 'The fathers have eaten sour grapes,
and the children's teeth are set on edge.' Robert Collyer of Chicago,
in his noble sermon 'The Thorn in the Flesh,' has well said, 'In the
far-reaching influences that go to every life, and away backward as
certainly as forward, children are sometimes born with appetites
fatally strong in their nature. As they grow up the appetite grows with
them, and speedily becomes a master, the master a tyrant; and by the
time he arrives at manhood, the man is a slave. I heard a man say that
for eight-and-twenty years the soul within him had had to stand like
an unsleeping sentinel, guarding his appetite for strong drink. To be
a man at last under such a disadvantage, not to mention a saint, is as
fine a piece of grace as can well be seen. There is no doctrine that
demands a larger vision than this of the depravity of human nature. Old
Dr. Mason used to say that "as much grace as would make John a saint,
would hardly keep Peter from knocking a man down."'
There are some curious stories of special vices transmitted from
parent to child, which, if true, are exceedingly significant, to say
the least.[19] Gama Machado relates that a lady with whom he was
acquainted, who possessed a large fortune, had a passion for gambling
and passed whole nights at play. 'She died young,' he proceeds, 'of a
pulmonary complaint. Her eldest son who was in appearance the image
of his mother, had the same passion for play. He died of consumption
like his mother, and at the same age; his daughter who resembled him,
inherited the same tastes, and died young.' Hereditary predisposition
to theft, murder, and suicide, has been demonstrated in several cases.
But the world at large is naturally indisposed to recognise congenital
tendency to crime as largely diminishing responsibility for offences
or attempted offences of this kind. So far as the general interests
of the community are concerned, the demonstrated fact that a thief or
murderer has _inherited_ his unpleasant tendency should be a _raison de
plus_ for preventing the tendency from being transmitted any farther.
In stamping out the hereditary ruffian or rascal by life imprisonment,
we not only get rid of the 'grown serpent' but of the worm which
Hath nature that in time would venom breed.
An illustration of the policy at least (we do not say the justice)
of preventive measures in such cases, is shown in the case of a
woman in America, of whom the world may fairly say what Father Paul
remarked to gentle Alice Brown; it 'never knew so criminal a family as
hers.' A young woman of remarkably depraved character, infested, some
seventy years since, the district of the Upper Hudson. At one stage
of her youth she narrowly, and somewhat unfortunately, escaped death.
Surviving, however, she bore many children, who in turn had large
families, insomuch that there are now some eighty direct descendants,
of whom one-fourth are convicted criminals, whilst the rest are
drunkards, lunatics, paupers, and otherwise undesirable members of the
community.
With facts such as these before us, we cannot doubt that in whatever
degree variability may eliminate after awhile peculiar mental or moral
tendencies, these are often transmitted for many generations before
they die out. If it be unsafe to argue that the responsibility of
those inheriting special characteristics is diminished, the duties of
others towards them may justly be considered to be modified. Other
duties than the mere personal control of tendencies which men may
recognise in themselves are also introduced. If a man finds within
himself an inherent tendency towards some sin, which yet he utterly
detests, insomuch that while the spirit is willing the flesh is weak
or perchance utterly powerless, he must recognise in his own life a
struggle too painful and too hopeless to be handed down to others.
As regards our relations to families in which criminal tendencies
have been developed, either through the negligence of those around
(as in certain dens in London where for centuries crime has swarmed
and multiplied), or by unfortunate alliances, we may 'perceive here
a divided duty.' It has been remarked that 'we do not set ourselves
to train tigers and wolves into peaceful domestic animals; we seek to
extirpate them,' and the question has been asked, 'why should we act
otherwise with beings, who, if human in form, are worse than wild
beasts?' 'To educate the son of a garotter or a "corner-man" into an
average Englishman,' may be 'about as promising a task as to train
one of the latter into a Newton or a Milton.' But we must not too
quickly despair of a task which may be regarded as a duty inherited
from those who in past generations neglected it. There is no hope of
the reversion of tiger or wolf to less savage types, for, far back as
we can trace their ancestry, we find them savage of nature. With our
criminal families the case is not so utterly hopeless. Extirpation
being impossible (though easily talked of) without injustice which
would be the parent of far greater troubles even than our criminal
classes bring upon us, we should consider the elements of hope which
the problem unquestionably affords. By making it the manifest interest
of our criminal population to scatter, or, failing that, by leaving
them no choice in the matter, the poison in their blood may before many
generations be eradicated, not by wide-spreading merely, but because
of the circumstance that only the better sort among them would have
(when scattered) much chance of rearing families as well as of escaping
imprisonment.
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote 15: It is said by Ribot that of all the features the nose is
the one which heredity preserves best.]
[Footnote 16: Shakspeare, who was bald young (and, so far as one
can judge from his portraits, had a good set of teeth), suggests a
correlation between hairiness and want of wit, which is at least
likely to be regarded by those who 'wear his baldness while they're
young' as a sound theory. 'Why,' asks Antipholus of Syracuse, 'is Time
such a niggard of hair, being, as it is, so plentiful an excrement?'
'Because,' says Dromio of Syracuse, 'it is a blessing that he bestows
on beasts; and what he hath scanted men in hair he hath given them in
wit.']
[Footnote 17: While penning the above lines I have been reminded of an
experience of my own, which I had never before thought of as connected
with the subject of heredity; yet it seems not unlikely that it may be
regarded as a case in point. During the infancy of my eldest son it
so chanced that the question of rest at night, and consequently the
question of finding some convenient way of keeping the child quiet,
became one of considerable interest to me. Cradle-rocking was effective
but carried on in the usual way prevented my own sleep, though causing
the child to sleep. I devised, however, a way of rocking the cradle
with the foot, which could be carried on in my sleep, after a few
nights' practice. Now it is an odd coincidence (only, perhaps) that the
writer's next child, a girl, had while still an infant a trick which I
have noticed in no other case. She would rock herself in the cradle by
throwing the right leg over the left at regular intervals, the swing of
the cradle being steadily kept up for many minutes, and being quite as
wide in range as a nurse could have given. It was often continued when
the child was asleep.
Since writing the above, I have learned from my eldest daughter, the
girl who as a child had the habit described, that a recent little
brother of hers, one of twins, and remarkably like her, had the same
habit, rocking his own cradle so vigorously as to disturb her in the
next room with the noise. These two only of twelve children have had
this curious habit; but as this child is thirteen years younger than
she is, the force of the coincidence in point of time is to some degree
impaired.]
[Footnote 18: See my _Science Byeways_, p. 337 _et seq._]
[Footnote 19: The following statement from the researches of
Brown-Sequard seems well worth noting in this connection:--'In the
course of his masterly experimental investigations into the functions
of the nervous system he discovered that, after a particular lesion
of the spinal cord of guinea-pigs, a slight pinching of the skin of
the face would throw the animal into a kind of epileptic convulsion.
That this artificial epilepsy should be constantly producible in
guinea-pigs, and not in any other animals experimented on, was in
itself sufficiently singular; and it was not less surprising that the
tendency to it persisted after the lesion of the spinal cord seemed
to have been entirely recovered from. But it was far more wonderful
that the offspring of these epileptic guinea-pigs showed the same
predisposition, without having been themselves subjected to any lesion
whatever; whilst no such tendency showed itself in any of the large
number of young bred by the same accurate observer from parents that
had not thus been operated on.']
_BODILY ILLNESS AS A MENTAL STIMULANT._
During special states of disease the mind sometimes develops faculties
such as it does not possess when the body is in full health. Some of
the abnormal qualities thus exhibited by the mind seem strikingly
suggestive of the possible acquisition by the human race of similar
powers under ordinary conditions. For this reason, though we fear
there is no likelihood at present of any practical application of the
knowledge we may obtain on this subject, it seems to me that there is
considerable interest in examining the evidence afforded by the strange
powers which the mind occasionally shows during diseases of the body,
and especially during such diseases as are said, in unscientific but
expressive language, to lower the tone of the nervous system.