several planets with their secondaries, were all moulded into one mass,
and then dilated so as to fill the vast sphere of which the orbit of
Uranus forms a circumference, the substance would evidently be in a
state of extreme tenuity and diffusion. Immense as the mass of the sun
now is, it is but a mere nut at the centre of the grand globe which we
are now considering. Expanded to such vast dimensions, we cannot
conceive of it as a solid spheroid turning upon its axis, but only as a
mass of fluid or vapor, in which a circular motion would generate only
vortices or whirlwinds. In such an aggregation of subtile matter, no
crust could be solidified on the outer ring, and then detached from the
mass within; indeed, any separation of the parts under such
circumstances is inconceivable. Even a rotary motion could not be
established in it, except by an impulse received from without; for there
is every reason to believe, that the movement of a homogeneous fluid
towards its centre, if it could take place without disturbing causes,
would be in radial lines, and not in a spiral.
Our author brings into view all the mathematical proportions and uniform
relations which exist between the constituent bodies of the solar
system, in order to indicate the probability of their formation from the
constant working of one material cause. Thus he remarks, that the
primary planets all move nearly in one plane, and "show a progressive
increase of bulk and diminution of density, from the one nearest to the
sun to that which is most distant." But he passes over other
characteristics of these bodies, equally important, which are quite
irregular, and cannot be traced to the operation of one law. Compare the
periods of rotation on their respective axes, and we find no
correspondence, no indication that the revolving motion was imparted to
all by one inflexible law. The first four planets, counting from the
sun, perform their rotation in nearly the same time, namely, twenty-four
hours. But Jupiter's period is a little less, and Saturn's a little
more, than ten hours. Again, Jupiter's axis of rotation is nearly
perpendicular to the plane of the ecliptic, while that of Mars is
inclined at an angle of fifty-nine degrees forty-two minutes. Another
irregularity, still more fatal to the theory, is found in the number of
satellites by which the respective planets are attended. Saturn has
seven, beside the two rings; Jupiter has four, Mars has none, and the
earth has but one. On the single hypothesis, that our system was formed
by rings successively thrown off from a central body by a process of
refrigeration and contraction, these irregularities are inexplicable.
Mars, it seems, did not shrink at all, while Jupiter cast off four
separate rings, and the earth produced its single moon. The distances of
these bodies from their primaries are also quite irregular; in the case
of Jupiter, the outermost of the satellites revolves at a distance which
is only twenty-seven times the radius of the primary, and the innermost
is distant but six times that radius. This planet, consequently, has
shrunk to one twenty-seventh part of its original diameter, and in so
doing, has formed four moons; the earth has shrunk to one sixtieth part
of its first diameter, and still has produced but one satellite. If the
same law had prevailed in the two cases, we ought to have nine or ten
moons.
We need not analyze with any great minuteness the geological facts and
hypotheses incorporated into this magnificent history of creation. As
will be seen hereafter, the violent and sweeping transformations and
convulsions that the earth's crust has undergone directly conflict with
our author's theory, and afford the strongest presumption, that an
extraneous cause has frequently interfered, at different periods, to
repair the desolation produced by the unassisted working of natural
laws, to bring order out of chaos, and to people the desert earth anew
with animated tribes. The only general fact of much moment, which our
author has drawn from the discoveries of geologists, for the
confirmation of his own hypothesis, is, according to his own account,
one of the most questionable doctrines in the whole science,--one of a
negative character, on which we can never rely with full assurance, till
the researches of man have probed every fold, and examined every thread
in the texture, of the earth's garment, and thus shown that no evidence
can possibly be discovered to the contrary. The alleged fact is that, in
the early formations of rock--the first pages in the history of the
earth's surface--are found the remains of animals and vegetables only of
the lowest type and most imperfect development; while, in the later
strata, forms more and more advanced are discovered; so that there seems
to have been a constant progress along the line leading to the higher
forms of organization. The testimony which goes to support this
assertion is wholly negative. The geologist reasons thus: The more
perfect organisms have not been discovered in the earlier strata;
_therefore_, they do not exist in them. When, in a different connection,
it suits our author's purpose to throw doubt on the very postulate which
is here admitted, he holds the following language.
"These, it must be owned, are less strong traces of the birds than
we possess of the reptiles and other tribes; but it must be
remembered, that the evidence of fossils, as to the absence of any
class of animals from a certain period of the earth's history, can
never be considered as more than negative. Animals, of which we
find no remains in a particular formation, may, nevertheless, have
lived at the time, and it may have only been from unfavorable
circumstances that their remains have not been preserved for our
inspection. The single circumstance of their being little liable to
be carried down into seas might be the cause of their
non-appearance in our quarries."--p. 95.
In truth, the researches of geologists are every day bringing to light
new facts, which compel them to modify or abandon many of the positions
they formerly held; so that a considerable portion of the science is a
mere quicksand of shifting theories. We need only allude to the various
suppositions respecting the origin of drift, and to the numerous
modifications of the glacial theory. Important discoveries have been
made within a short time, showing that certain animal tribes had their
origin much farther back than was at first supposed. A few years ago,
reptiles were believed to be the highest type of life that existed
during the era of the new red sand-stone. But Professor Hitchcock's
recent discovery in this stone of the footprints of gigantic birds has
added a higher class to the zooelogy of the period; and within a few
months, in the same red sand-stone of the Connecticut valley, tracks of
two or three species of quadrupeds have been found, some of them being
probably mammifers of a lower grade. It is true, no fossil remains of
these animals have been brought to light; but this want only renders the
discovery more significant for our present purpose. It shows that
certain animals must have lived at the period in question, though their
remains have not yet been found; and from the greater age of the rocks
then formed, and the consequent greater number of convulsions of the
earth's surface to which they have been subjected, these remains may
have entirely disappeared. It is a curious fact, also, that the animal
remains of that period, which have come down to us, belong to genera so
constituted, that their bodies might well survive, if we may so speak,
the shocks which would have destroyed every trace of some more delicate,
or more finely organized, beings. We find remains of the flint-shielded
animalcules, the hard-shelled mollusca, and the cartilaginous fishes;
but the bodies of mammalia, birds, and even the higher species of
fishes, some of which we may suppose to have been more tender and
corruptible, have utterly perished. Here and there, an individual of
their number left the print of its foot on the sand, which subsequently
hardened into rock, and brought down to our times a faint vestige of its
past existence.
We are not attempting to impugn the credit of geological science in
general, which would be a wholly futile task. The multitude of facts
respecting the present constitution of the earth's crust, recently made
known by laborers in this department, are among the most curious and
most pregnant discoveries of modern times. But when we come to the
formation of theories respecting the past history of the earth, in order
to account for the phenomena at present visible on its surface, we are
evidently afloat on a sea of conjecture, each hypothesis being valid
only till a more plausible one is proposed,--which happens very
frequently,--or till it is effectually disproved by some new discovery
in the rocky strata. A fertile imagination and a bold face are among the
most striking traits of our more daring geologists. Grant to one of this
character a few modest postulates,--give him certain millions of years,
a sufficient number of earthquakes, a whole battery of volcanoes, a few
ocean deluges, and the rise and fall of half a dozen continents,--and he
will frame a theory off-hand, which will account for the most perplexing
phenomena. Our author is certainly entitled to take his place at the
very head of this class of speculatists.
In accounting for the work of creation by the natural and unassisted
development of the inherent qualities of brute matter, the great
difficulty is found at the first link in the chain of animated being.
How can we explain the commencement of _life_? We must have a clear idea
of the whole scope of this problem, before we can make any attempt at
its solution. Life, then, is _not_ mere organization, though most
materialists, philosophers, like our author, willingly confound the two
things; to hear them reason, one would almost suppose that there was no
difference between a dead man and a living one. Organization is
subservient to life, ministers to it, manifests it,--supports it, if you
please,--but does not constitute it. He must be a bolder man than we
are, who will undertake to say _what it is_; but we can very safely
declare _what it is not_; and in any particular form or aggregation of
matter, whether organic or inorganic, we can give a shrewd guess as to
its presence or absence. It may be said, that we beg the question by
assuming that organization is not life; it may be so; but it is quite
too much to allow the materialist quietly to take the opposite doctrine
for granted. He must know the full extent of his task,--that it is
necessary for him not only to construct the machine, but actually to set
it in motion, so that it shall afterwards run on of its own accord. It
is very easy to frame a partial definition of life, by merely describing
one or two of its characteristic functions; and then, because some
action can be detected between the particles of brute matter, which
resembles the exercise of these functions, boldly to declare that the
whole mystery is solved. Thus it is said, that life is nothing but the
accretion of similar substances, or the addition of like unto like; and
as this occurs in crystallization, which is confessedly a phenomenon of
inorganic matter, therefore there is no fundamental difference between
the properties of living and dead substances. We deny the first
proposition; nutrition is not the only characteristic of life, and the
nutritive process, whether in vegetables or animals, is not mere
accretion, but assimilation. It has been said, though the assertion is
by no means fully proved, that assimilation is only a finer kind of
chemistry, the constituent principles being brought together only by
their natural affinities. Even if this were true, if the stomach and the
digestive apparatus were only a well furnished chemical laboratory, fit
for conducting the most delicate experiments, the great difficulty would
still remain. The question might yet be asked, Where is the chemist? And
this is the fundamental question, which the materialists never attempt
to answer, but quietly evade.
The difference between an inorganic and an organic body has been
explained by Coleridge clearly enough for our purpose. In the former,--a
sheaf of corn, for instance,--the whole is nothing more than a
collection of the individual parts; in the latter,--an animal,--the
whole is the effect of, or results from, the parts. In the latter case,
the whole is every thing, and the parts are comparatively nothing. One
of the great effects of life is to keep the parts in subjection to the
whole, making them contribute to its support and growth, and thus
maintaining the unity of the system. The stomach digests, the lungs
inhale air, the heart beats, and the blood circulates; and as the joint
effect, or as the common supporter,--it matters not which,--of these
operations, _life_ continues, and the animated being is a unit; it has
not merely virtual, but essential unity. The reciprocal action of the
respiratory, circulating, and nervous systems is absolutely necessary to
life. The animal dies, and this unity, this subservience of the parts to
the whole, immediately ceases. In the functions of the living body, it
may be that the ordinary laws of chemistry are preserved, and that the
elements of carbon, oxygen, and hydrogen combine and separate according
to their ordinary affinities, and in no unusual proportions. But after
death, at any rate, quite a different set of chemical laws come into
play, and produce a result which is the very opposite of that before
effected. There is no longer any unanimity or cooeperation; instead of
sustaining or building up the animal tissues, the affinities now in
operation tear down, destroy, and resolve them into their ultimate
elements,--each part following out its own law of destruction or
resolution, irrespectively of the others.
"There is in living organic matter a principle constantly in
action, the operations of which are in accordance with a rational
plan, so that the individual parts which it creates in the body are
adapted to the design of the whole; and this it is which
distinguishes organism. Kant says, 'The cause of the particular
mode of existence of each part of a living body resides in the
whole, while in dead masses each part contains this cause within
itself.' This explains why a mere part separated from an organized
whole generally does not continue to live; why, in fact, an
organized body appears to be one and indivisible. And since the
different parts of an organized body are heterogeneous members of
one whole, and essential to its perfect state, the trunk cannot
live after the loss of one of these parts."--_Mueller's Physiology_,
Vol. I., p. 19.
The apparent exceptions to this statement--as in the case of the
polypes, which multiply by fissiparous generation, or by spontaneous
division of their bodies into parts, each part becoming a perfect
animal--are only apparent. These creatures, which are low down in the
scale of being, exemplify what Mr. Owen calls "the law of vegetative or
irrelative repetition," as they have many organs performing the same
function, and not related to each other by combination for the
performance of a higher function. Thus, a Polygastrian has many
assimilative sacs, each performing the office of a stomach irrespective
of the rest. In the insect tribe, the respiratory function, instead of
being performed by one set of lungs for the whole body, is carried on
through a series of minute and highly ramified tubes, which traverse
every part of the body, and open to the air by a great number of
orifices. In some instances, both respiration and digestion seem to take
place over the whole surface of the body; for Trembley found at least
one case, in which the animal digested its food equally well, after it
had been turned inside out. A number of similar parts being repeated in
each segment of the individual, the body can be divided, and the several
portions, each still containing some of all the organs essential to the
whole, will continue to live separately. The severed parts will even
continue to grow, and to develope other organs convenient for individual
existence. But most animals, especially the more perfect, do not
constitute an aggregate of similar parts united by one trunk, and
therefore propagation by division is in them impossible. The ovum, when
separated from the parent, is an entire animal only _potentially_;
during its development, the essential parts which constitute the
_actual_ whole are produced. In the case of the polyps, we have only to
suppose that the ovum remains connected with the parent being, till all,
or nearly all, its essential parts are produced. It is then shed not as
a mere ovum, but as an animal nearly or wholly complete.
Now, all the instances adduced by our author, to show similarity of
action in the organic and the inorganic world, are irrelevant. The
analogies are not merely imperfect; they are no analogies at all.
Crystals increase by the aggregation of new particles on the external
surfaces of the parts already formed; there is no consentaneous
operation of the parts on the whole. The molecules of crystals are
homogeneous throughout, and the several aggregates of these molecules
are independent of each other; while organized bodies are composed of
parts perfectly dissimilar from each other, but all of which conspire to
one end. "The growth of organized bodies," says Mueller, "takes place in
all particles of their substance at the same time, while the increase of
the mass in inorganic bodies is produced by external apposition."
Frostwork on the windows may resemble vegetable _forms_; but it has no
resemblance whatever to vegetable _life_. Electricity may counterfeit
the _action of life_, for a moment, on a particular limb, by causing the
muscles to twitch; but it does not counterfeit _life itself_, by causing
all the parts again to contribute to the sustentation of the whole. A
French chemist, by electric action, may have produced _globules_ in
albumen; there is nothing very wonderful in that; any one may blow
bubbles in a viscid fluid. The resemblance between these globules and
proper germinal vesicles amounts to nothing more than similarity of
outward shape; there is no more real resemblance between them than
between the oval lump of chalk which farmers sometimes put into a hen's
nest, in order to deceive poor Dame Partlet, and the real egg which the
hen deposits by the side of it. Certainly, the imponderable agents,
heat, light, and electricity, are in some mysterious way _connected
with_ life, so as to contribute to its support; there is nothing more in
this assertion than in the familiar proposition, that a seed will
germinate only under the proper conditions of soil and climate; but
that these agents, acting on inorganic matter, ever _create_ or
_commence_ life is a pure hypothesis, not supported even by the shadow
of a fact.
Having thus shown how weak are the general considerations in favor of
the theory, that animated beings may be created out of inorganic matter
by mere natural laws, we should proceed to consider the direct evidence
adduced to prove that life has actually been produced in this way. Here
the whole question is opened respecting the alleged instances of
equivocal generation, and we have neither space nor ability to discuss
them at length. Those who are curious respecting the question may find a
brief summary of the evidence on both sides in a former number of this
Journal.[1] We can mention only a few facts and arguments, which show
the extreme improbability of the doctrine supported by our author and a
few other theorists.
In the first place, it is remarkable, that all the races of animated
beings, which are entirely within the range of our powers of
observation,--which have such a size and locality that we can study and
accurately determine their organization and habits,--are unquestionably
produced from parents of their own kind. Only the minute microscopic
animals are now supposed to be generated spontaneously; and this alleged
fact rests not on direct proof, but only on our inability in certain
cases to trace the process of their production in the ordinary way. As
many of these animals, in their perfect state, are not more than the
twelve thousandth part of an inch in diameter, it is not much to be
wondered at, that we should not be able in all cases to discover their
ova, or to follow these ova through all their stages of development into
the complete being. It is farther remarkable, that these animalcules,
when once produced, whether by spontaneous or natural generation, are
all found to be provided with the organs or requisite means for
continuing their species, and, in fact, for multiplying their number
from themselves with astonishing rapidity. As they certainly have
children, it seems reasonable to suppose, according to the analogy of
all the higher animated tribes, that they also had parents. The ancients
supposed, that the worms and insects which appear in decaying organic
matter were generated there by the decomposition of the substance,
without the previous agency of individuals of the same stock. Every
schoolboy is acquainted with Virgil's mode of obtaining a new swarm of
bees from the decaying carcass of a heifer. Subsequent researches, made
with more care, and perhaps with better instruments of observation, have
entirely disproved the hypothesis, and show that the maggots were
produced in every case from eggs deposited by flies or other insects,
and were afterwards themselves developed into the state of perfect
insects. Then it seems reasonable to believe, that the improved
observations of future times will clear up the only remaining
difficulty, and show how the infusory animalcules also are generated
from beings of their own kind.
These minute creatures are prolific to a degree that transcends all
calculation; and they exist, either in the egg or maturely developed, in
inconceivable numbers. A single wheel-animalcule, _Hydatina senta_,
which was watched for more than eighteen days, and which lives still
longer, is capable of a fourfold increase in twenty-four or thirty
hours; a rate of propagation which would afford in ten days a million of
beings. From their tenacity of life, extraordinary powers of
reproduction, and incalculable numbers, their united influence may be
said to be far more important, in all the great operations of nature,
than that of the larger and more perfectly developed organisms. They
swarm in all the seas, and play an important part in choking up harbours
and forming great deposits at the mouths of rivers. The remains of those
which have perished form great beds and strata in the crust of the
earth. The silicious stone, called Tripoli, is entirely composed of such
remains; at Bilin, in Bohemia, there is one stratum of this substance,
fourteen feet thick, one cubic inch of which is estimated to contain
forty-one thousand millions of individuals. Their extreme tenacity of
life is evinced by the fact, that many of them may be entirely
desiccated, and preserved in pure sand for several years, after which,
on the application of a drop of water, they may be restored to life. In
this dried state, M. Doyere exposed some of them to a heat equal to that
of boiling water, and afterwards revived them; though, in an active
state, if subjected to a much lower temperature, they perish. If, then,
the fully developed and mature can resist such powerful extraneous
causes of destruction, how much more must the ova possess the power of
enduring them without losing their latent life! The following extract
from Professor Owen's Lectures shows the bearing of these facts upon the
question of equivocal generation.