LIFE AS THE OUTCOME
The making of worlds, we are assured, was not purposeless, and its most
obvious purpose to our minds is the preparation of suitable abodes
for organic life. No other seems of comparable importance; no other,
indeed, comes within the full grasp of our apprehensive intelligence.
Yet its limitations must not be forgotten. The human standpoint is not
the only one from which the sum of things may be surveyed; and although
we be unable to quit it, we can still admit that the view obtainable
from it is probably not all-embracing. We only know with certainty that
the end which appears to us supreme has, in one case, been successfully
attained; how far it was sought to be compassed elsewhere must always
remain a matter of speculation.
On our own globe the presence of life is none the less mysterious for
being profuse and familiar. We can trace the strange history of its
slow unfolding, but the secret of its initiation baffles our utmost
scrutiny. The cooled rind of a once molten globe serves as the stage
for the drama; beneath it primeval heat still reigns. Temperature
rises steadily with descent into the interior of the earth; at a
depth of about two miles it must reach the boiling-point of water at
the sea-level. This temperature, which is absolutely prohibitive of
vitality, was formerly, beyond question, that of the surface. At some
long past epoch, accordingly, our future oceans hung suspended as a
prodigious envelope of vapour above a hot crust of slag and lava; our
teeming planet lay barren; it harboured no promise, no potency, no
visible possibility of life.
So it should have remained had the law of continuity been rigidly
enforced; but there came a time for a new beginning, and a new
beginning was made. A momentous alteration took place; inert Nature
was quickened; what had been sterile became all at once fruitful; an
immeasurable gulf was bridged, and movement was started along an
endless line of advance. That the advance was set on foot and directed
by an intelligent Will is the only inference derivable from a rational
survey of the known facts.
Life can be studied in its manifestations, not in itself. Attempts
to define it have served only to show our inability to 'lift the
painted veil.' We can, however, see that its presence is attended by
characteristic effects, brought about in harmony with the laws of
inorganic nature, although not in blind submission to them. Their
operation is somehow restrained, and appears to be subtly though
securely guided towards determinate ends prescribed by the vital
needs of each animal or plant. This modifying principle unmistakably
regulates the economy of every living organism; the cessation of its
activity means death.
Science has made no real progress towards solving the enigma of
vitality. Its evasiveness becomes, on the contrary, more apparent as
inquiry is rendered more exact. Under a laxer discipline of thought
the contrast between life and death seemed less glaring. It was
easily taken for granted that creeping things were engendered by
corruption, aid being invoked, if required, from the _virtus cœlestis_
of the eighth sphere. Thus, the birth of mice from the damp earth
was, in the ninth century, held to be signified by the word _mus_
(=humus);[119] and Van Helmont, at the height of the revival of
learning, published without misgiving a recipe for the creation of the
same animals.[120] Yet there was already better knowledge to be had
for the asking; and Francesco Redi, in 1668, crystallized Harvey's
opinion in the celebrated maxim, '_Omne vivum ex vivo._' Its truth is
incontrovertible. Challenged and tested again and again, it has as
often been vindicated, and may now be said, despite certain anomalous
effects of radium on veal broth, to stand outside the legitimate range
of debate. 'That life is an antecedent to life,' Lord Kelvin declared
in 1871, 'seems to me as sure a teaching of science as the law of
gravitation.'[121]
But the succession is not easy to start within the terms of a strictly
uniformitarian convention. The expedient is tempting, if scarcely
satisfactory, of demanding from the past what we dare not claim from
the present. Two and a half millenniums ago it was already in vogue.
Herodotus dismisses a genealogical embarrassment with the remark,
γένοιτο δ'άν πᾶν έν τῶ μακρῶ χρόνω, which may be freely translated, 'In
the long run of time anything may happen.' Conditions, we are apt to
think, may have been more elastic long ago. The proven impossibility
of to-day becomes vaguely thinkable seen through the mist of uncounted
yesterdays. 'If it were given to me,' Professor Huxley said,[122] 'to
look beyond the abyss of geologically recorded time to the still more
remote period when the earth was passing through physical and chemical
conditions which it can no more see again than a man can recall his
infancy, I should expect to be a witness of the evolution of living
protoplasm from non-living matter.' To these first vital compounds he
attributed a fungoid nature and mode of growth, and the choice deprived
his speculation of any plausibility that might otherwise have belonged
to it. Fungi are not self-supporting; they cannot supply themselves
with nourishment from the raw materials of the mineral world; they
depend upon the hospitality of differently organized beings. They
were, then, certainly not among the 'first mercies of nature.' Mr.
Herbert Spencer, too, was inclined to regard spontaneous generation
as a superannuated process. The leap from the non-vital to the vital,
now admitted by the saner kind of biologists to be impracticable,
might have been taken, it seemed to him, when 'the heat of the earth's
surface was falling through those ranges of temperature at which the
higher organic compounds are unstable.' But the 'reason why' is to
seek. A sterilized solution is precisely one which has cooled from
a high thermal grade; a baked brick is similarly circumstanced. Why
should the appearance of life in primeval times have been favoured by a
state of things fatal to it here and now?
The essence of the biological crux resides in 'protoplasm.' The word
was coined by Von Mohl in 1846, with the object of emphasizing the
importance of the substance it signified, which indeed forms the bulk
of every organism, animal and vegetable, man, mushroom, and amœba.
Huxley rightly termed it 'the physical basis of life,' adding, however,
the infelicitous conjecture that its production might have been one
of the lucky hits of nature. It would have been a hit of incalculable
moment, but of incalculable improbability. 'Odds beyond arithmetic'
were against that particular throw coming out of the Lucretian
dice-box. The 'primal slime' (to use Oken's phrase) is composed of
oxygen, nitrogen, hydrogen, and carbon, with minute percentages of
phosphates and other salts. But these constituents are put together in
a highly artificial manner. Eight or nine hundred elementary atoms,
in fact, go to the making of one molecule of protoplasm, forming a
structure of extreme complexity, most delicately balanced and eminently
unstable. It results, accordingly, from the employment of specially
directed forces, and stores, for the benefit of the producing organism,
the energy expended in its construction. Left to itself, it promptly
goes to pieces, and yields back its component particles to their native
inorganic sphere. The laws there ruling are in truth adverse to the
existence of protoplasm; abandoned to their unmitigated action, it
perishes. We should then as reasonably suppose that in the geological
past rivers flowed uphill as that inorganic nature stumbled blindly
upon this wonderful postulate and product of life.
Professor Huxley affirmed life to be 'a property of protoplasm,' the
inevitable outcome of 'the nature and disposition of its molecules,'
and he sought to cover the absurdity of the dictum by claiming as
analogous a case wholly disparate. Water, he argued, has qualities
totally unlike those of oxygen or hydrogen, and protoplasm may
similarly, by mere intricacy of arrangement, and the evoking of latent
affinities, become endowed with the transcendant powers connected
with animated existence. 'What better philosophical status, then,' he
exclaimed, 'has _vitality_ than _aquosity_?'[123] 'True,' he added,
'protoplasm can only be generated by protoplasm, in a manner that
evades our intelligence, but does anybody quite comprehend the _modus
operandi_ of an electric spark which traverses a mixture of oxygen and
hydrogen?' The illustration is inapt. The electric spark fulfils no
constructive function. It simply agitates the molecules so as to bring
their native affinities into play. It acts like a mechanical blow on
dynamite. Further, water is a stable compound, because its formation is
attended by loss of energy; it represents a plane permanently occupied
because reached by a steep descent; but protoplasm is, in this respect,
the antitype of water. It needs force for its composition; water needs
force for its decomposition. Protoplasm needs force plus a suitable
apparatus; it can be turned out only by an artfully adapted machine
with a head of steam on. It is thus continually manufactured by plants
under the stimulus of light. They provide the apparatus, sunbeams the
energy. If the supply of power is cut off, the machinery comes to a
halt, protoplasm ceases to be generated, the organism dies of inanition.
Many German biologists find themselves compelled, by the impossibility
of explaining vital activities in terms of chemistry or physics, to
associate protoplasm with some kind of psychical activity.[124]
Individuality, at least, implies an ultra-material principle, and it
asserts itself at the very base of the animal creation. An amœba is the
simplest of living beings. Formerly called the 'Proteus animalcule,' it
is 'everything in turn, and nothing long.' It can be round or radiated,
spherical or lenticular, as momentary convenience prescribes. Organs it
has none, its limbs are conspicuous by absence, it is 'sans everything'
that belongs to the ordinary outfit of an animated creature. Yet
such-like nucleated globules of protoplasm have flourished exuberantly
during countless ages. Adaptability insured survival. An amœba is at
home in almost any environment. What it has not ready-made, it can
supply at a moment's notice. Out of any part of its substance it can
improvise feelers and tentacles for the capture of its prey, as well as
a stomach for its digestion, and it thus effectively goes through the
full round of animal economy. Some varieties, too, are noted builders.
Those called Foraminifera have the faculty of secreting carbonate of
lime from sea-water, and construct with it fairy dwellings, perforated
in all directions to allow of the protrusion of exploratory filaments.
Fossil chambered shells of this type are extraordinarily abundant.
Their dense conglomeration in the chalk elicited Buffon's exclamation
that 'the very dust had been alive!'[125] The _calcaire grossier_ of
which Paris is built consists mainly of them, and to this day, in
oceanic depths, the materials of future capitals are in course of
preparation by the monumental industry of these unpretending creatures.
Such as they are, they maintain a status incomparable with that of
non-living things. Incomparable, for instance, as regards the water in
which they float. The contrast is startling despite its familiarity. An
amœba incarnates a purpose; it embodies a spark of personal existence,
unconsciously swaying the forces of inorganic nature towards the
ends of its own well-being. The subordination is most real, though
profoundly mysterious. In the organic and the inorganic worlds the same
laws hold good; the same ultimate atoms exert their preferences in
each; in neither is an uncaused effect possible. A bullet can no more
be fired from a gun that has no charge than a man can lift a finger
without a corresponding outlay of food-products. Accordingly, while
plants store and animals expend energy, plants and animals are equally
incompetent for its origination. What they can do is to appropriate
and specifically apply it; and herein resides the essence of life. 'It
would seem,' Sir George Stokes wrote in 1893,[126] 'to be something
of the nature of a directing power, not counteracting the action of
the physical forces, but guiding them into a determined channel.'
What the power is in itself it would be futile to seek to define. We
are only sure of its being extra-physical. Matter cannot evolve a
principle which disposes of it as its master. Evolution means only the
unfolding into self-evidence of something already obscurely present.
The 'latent process' (to use a Baconian term) of the hatching of an egg
is typical and instructive. Yet it is not the less recondite for being
daily conducted before our eyes. A concourse of suns, indeed, fails to
impress us with the unutterable wonder of the 'flower in the crannied
wall' apostrophized by the last great poet of the nineteenth century.
The two wide kingdoms of life lack a 'scientific frontier.' The
boundary-line is ill-marked and irregular. So much so that a few
naturalists have set up a neutral zone, or no man's land, inhabited
by creatures of mixed or uncertain nature, by plant-animals, or
zoophytes in the literal sense of the word. But the expedient avails
to shelter ignorance rather than to advance knowledge. For it seems
probable that there is no organism so imperfectly characterized as to
be genuinely incapable of giving a categorical answer to the question,
'Under which king, Bezonian?' Fungi might, perhaps, on a superficial
view, be taken for hybrids. They share the nature of animals so far
as to be unable to elaborate their own food, while appearing in other
respects to be authentic vegetables. They are, in fact, parasites
and scavengers. Not the smallest reason exists for supposing them to
constitute a genetic link between the two chief hierarchies. These
are, in all likelihood, fundamentally distinct. Only by a gratuitous
hypothesis can they be credited with a common ancestor. Each seeks
a different kind of perfection; their ideals, so to speak, follow
divergent tracks. That the tracks were marked out from the beginning
may be safely affirmed; and this implies radical separation. Plants
came first, since animals pre-suppose and imperatively require them;
the antecedence having quite possibly been by a vast interval of time.
On this point, geological evidence, though inconclusive, is suggestive.
The Laurentian beds, which are among the very earliest stratified
formations, contain no recognisable fossils. They were once supposed to
enshrine the remains of a lowly organism dubbed _Eozöon Canadense_; but
the markings that simulated animal forms are now known to be of mineral
origin. Laurentian graphite, on the other hand, occurs plentifully;
and graphite may be described as coal at a more advanced stage of
mineralization. Such deposits, we are led to believe, consist of
altered vegetable substances; and it seems to follow that these hoary
rocks are the burying ground of a profuse succession of virgin forests.
That they flourished beneath the sea--were, in fact, composed of
algæ--was the opinion of Professor Prestwich,[127] and it is not easily
gainsaid.
Primitive animal life was unquestionably marine, and the Huronian
strata, which overlie the Laurentian, afford traces of it in a few
sponge-spicules, the cast of an annelid, and such-like scanty leavings.
Higher up, the Cambrian series swarms with oceanic invertebrates;
fishes, the first type of vertebrates, came upon the scene in Silurian
times; and so, by a various and surprising progression, life advanced
through the ages, until the ascending sequence culminated with a being
cast in a diviner mould, who walks the earth, even now, with face
uplifted to the stars.
'Natus homo est; illum mundi melioris origo
Finxit in effigiem moderantûm cuncta deorum.'
In the vegetable kingdom the vital law of development has wrought with
less conspicuous effect. The superiority of recent to ancient floras
is more significant than striking. A tree-fern or a sigillaria bears
comparison with an oak much better than a trilobite or a plesiosaurus
with an eagle, horse, or lion. The geological variations of plants,
however, have unmistakably tended to make them more serviceable to
man--more serviceable to his material needs, and also more gratifying
to his æsthetic instincts. For him, flower-petals were painted and
perfumes distilled; for him, the grasses of the prairie laid up stores
of sustaining nutriment; in preparation for his advent, choice fruits
ripened and reddened under Tertiary sunshine; while the barren and
sombre vegetation of the Carboniferous epoch had already done its part
by dying down into seams of coal for the eventual supply of power for
human industry and warmth for human comfort.
It would be an abuse of our readers' patience to discuss the futile
conjecture of an extra-terrestrial origin for life on our globe. The
agency, in this connection, of germ-laden aerolites was first invoked
by Richter of Dresden; and Lord Kelvin gave currency to the notion by
an incidental reference to it in 1871 from the Presidential Chair of
the British Association. Its adoption would oblige us to regard the
denizens of our planet, fauna and flora alike, as salvage from the
wreck of some unknown world in space. _Credat Judæus Apella._ To our
minds, the adventures of Baron Munchausen appear more credible than
the pre-natal history of the primal organism implied by this 'wild
surmise.' Inquiry into the nature of the supposed organism serves
to draw closer the web of embarrassment. The remarkable aridity of
meteorites excludes the possibility of its having had an aquatic
habitat. Members of the fungoid order are unsuited to act as pioneers,
owing to their helplessness in the matter of commissariat; and the
spores or lichens or mosses could scarcely be expected to survive
the vicissitudes of such a journey as they must have performed if
meteor-borne to terrestrial shores. The immigration hypothesis,
moreover, even if it were plausible, could not be made useful.
Difficulties do not vanish on being pushed into a corner; the problem
of life is as formidable in one world as in another; we should not
expect to find it easier to square the circle in Mars than Deinostratos
found it in Greece; matter, we are convinced, has no more psychical
initiative in the system of Arcturus than can be ascribed to it in the
system of the sun. Profitless conjectures may then be dismissed; they
do not help us out of the slough of intellectual impotence.
This need not, indeed, be absolute. The determination to regard things
mechanically alone renders them unintelligible. Science becomes
unscientific when it refuses to be guided by experience; and we have
the plainest testimony of consciousness to the working in ourselves of
originative faculties independent of, and irrepressible by, physical
agencies. Here we hold the clue to the labyrinth. The intimation
conveyed is distinct of a Power outside nature, continually and
inscrutably acting for order, elevation, and vivification.
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote 119: Hewitt, _Problems of the Age_, p. 105.]
[Footnote 120: Pasteur, _Annales de Chimie et de Physique_, tome xliv.,
p. 6, 1862.]
[Footnote 121: _Popular Lectures and Addresses_, vol. ii., p. 198.]
[Footnote 122: _Report British Association_, 1870, p. 84.]
[Footnote 123: _Collected Essays_, vol. i., p. 153]
[Footnote 124: Neumeister, _Betrachtungen über das Wesen der
Lebenserscheinungen_, 1903.]
[Footnote 125: Owen, _Palæontology_, pp. 11, 14.]
[Footnote 126: _Gifford Lectures_, p. 46.]
[Footnote 127: _Geology_, vol. ii., p. 22.]
INDEX
Alexander, structure of the Milky Way, 214
Amœba, versatile organization, 274-5
Anaximander, generalized matter, 5
Anaximenes, air as the 'Urstoff,' 4, 151
Aristotle, conception of nature, 8;
solid spheres, 13
Asteroids, orbital relations, 236
Babinet, objection to Laplace's cosmogony, 44
Bacon, elemental triad, 151
Ball, Sir Robert, mechanics of a condensing nebula, 79, 209-10
Barnard, discoveries of nebulæ, 212;
observations of the Gegenschein, 259
Becquerel, detection of radio-activity, 157, 162
Bessel, astronomy of the invisible, 141
Bode's law of planetary distances, 26
Brorsen, the zodiacal counterglow, 259
Bruno, a platonic pantheist, 9
Buffon, cometary impacts, 61;
fossil foraminifera, 275
Campbell, system of ζ Geminorum, 113;
number of spectroscopic binaries, 143;
density of nebulium, 153
Chladni, meteoric cosmogony, 118
Comets, position in Cartesian system, 12-13;
in that of Laplace, 136;
origin, 73-4, 252-4;
meteoric relations, 122-4, 133;
solar dependants, 133, 140, 236, 251;
nebular affinities, 137, 254-5;
insignificant mass, 242
Cosmogony, primitive, 1-3, 14;
philosophical, 3-7;
scientific, 7, 15;
of Descartes, 11-13, 60;
Kant's, 21-28, 61-2, 252, 254;
Laplace's, 29-33, 38-53, 57-61, 138, 235;
Herschel's, 35-7, 136, 199-201;
Faye's, 68-76, 81, 129;
Lockyer's, 125-134;
sidereal, 105-7, 145-7, 217-230
Crookes, Sir William, protyle, 5, 149;
radiant matter, 154, 156-7;
future of the world, 163
Curie, Madame, discovery of radium, 162
Dalton, combining equivalents, 152
Dark stars, 141, 226-7
Darwin, condensation of nebulous rings, 42, 51;
history of earth-moon system, 87-92, 94, 97, 142;
equilibrium of rotating globes, 102, 104-5, 112, 143;
fluid pressure on meteor-swarms, 129, 131;
spiral nebulæ, 205
Delambre, on cosmic speculations, 14, 15
Democritus, mechanical theory of the world, 5, 22
Descartes, theory of vortices, 11-13
Dissipation of energy, 229
Double stars, genesis and development, 98-9, 106-7, 142-5, 226-7;
occulting, 108-113;
variable, 113-115, 143;
'dumb-bell' type, 115, 116, 143;
frequency of occurrence, 144, 234
Earth, effective rigidity, 86;
critical situation, 87;
antique disruption, 89, 91;
tidal effects upon, 90, 244;
meteoric intakes, 119-120, 133;
internal heat, 266
Easton, the galactic spiral, 214
Eclipses, stellar, 107-8;
questionable occurrence, 109-113;
criterion of reality, 114
Electricity, discharge through vacua, 154;
relations with disintegrated matter, 155, 159-160, 163;
gravity explained by, 177-8, 179;
dual properties, 180-181;
fundamental in nature, 182;
ethereal transmission, 185
Electrons, copious production, 174;
strain-centres, 189-190, 195;
ultimates of matter, 231
Elements, ancient and mediæval ideas regarding, 5, 151;
genesis, 152, 230-231
Empedocles, four elements, 5, 151
Ether, in Cartesian philosophy, 12;
evasive character, 159, 183, 197-8;
relation to gravity, 175, 185;
properties, 184, 191, 193-4
Evolution, of solar system, 22, 241, 250;
of stars, 35-6, 217-225;
of stellar systems, 98-9, 106-7, 142-5, 226-7;
of nebulæ, 145-6, 200-211;
of the chemical elements, 151, 230-231
Faye, objections to Laplace's cosmogony, 25;
modified scheme, 68-73, 81, 129;
duration of the sun, 76
Fleming, nature of electrons, 195
Frost and Adams, spectroscopic binaries, 143, 221
Galileo, first law of motion, 12
Goldstein, cathode-rays, 155
Gravitation, mode of action, 168, 185;
velocity of transmission, 169, 175, 177;
explanatory hypotheses, 170-179
Hale, relationships of carbon stars, 225
Halley, nature of nebulæ, 36
Hansky, status of zodiacal light, 261
Harvey, life from life, 268
Helium, present in the sun, 55;
origin by atomic decay, 158, 230;
absorption in stars, 220, 222-3;
a constituent of nebulæ, 230
Helmholtz, maintenance of solar heat, 31, 34, 35, 74-5
Helmont, spontaneous generation, 268
Heracleitus, elemental evolution, 151
Herodotus, omnipotence of time, 269
Herschel, Sir John, nature of atoms, 156;
Saturn's satellites, 240
Herschel, Sir William, Uranian system, 29;
sidereal evolution,
35-6, 37, 136;
observations of nebulæ, 199;
history of their growth, 200-201
Huggins, Sir William, discovery of gaseous nebulæ, 54, 153
Huggins, Sir William and Lady, stellar development, 226
Huxley, origin of life, 269, 271, 272
Hydrogen, molecular velocity, 55;
the unit-atom, 152;
tenuity, 153;
absorption in stars, 221-2
Island-universes, 54
Jeans, figures of equilibrium, 104-5;
nature of radio-activity, 196
Jupiter's system, 240-1
Kant, cosmological speculations, 20-28, 60-62, 252, 254;
tidal effects, 27, 84-5;
Saturn's rings, 49;
status of comets, 73
Kelvin, Lord, Lesage's theory of gravitation, 174;
vortex-atoms, 187;
dissipation of energy, 229;
origin of life, 268, 280
Kepler, physical astronomy, 10
Kirkwood, objection to nebular hypothesis, 50, 51;
effects of solar tidal friction, 67
Lambert, sidereal construction, 17-18
Langley, mass of meteoric infalls, 119
Laplace, hypothesis of planetary origin, 25, 29-31, 33, 36-42,
52-3, 58-9, 60-62, 235;
Saturn's ring-system, 49;
_Mécanique Céleste_, 57;
status of comets, 73, 136
Larmor, scheme of molecular physics, 188;
definition of ether, 189, 193
Lenard, cathode-rays, 157
Lesage, rationale of gravity, 172-3, 175
Lewis, masses of double stars, 226
Ligondès, scheme of planetary growth, 77-8, 81, 252;
comets as survivals, 253, 256
Lockyer, Sir Norman, meteoritic hypothesis, 125-7;
enhanced lines, 223
Lorentz, electrical hypothesis of gravity, 177-8, 185
Magellanic clouds, spiral conformation, 213
Marchand, plane of the zodiacal light, 263
Mars, rotation of, 47-8
Maxwell, origin of matter, 161;
corpuscular theory of gravitation, 173
Mayer, J. R., effects of tidal friction, 87
Mercury, action upon of solar tides, 88, 96;
eccentric orbit, 242
Meteoritic formation of planets, 28-9, 119-122, 125, 128, 131-3;
of comets, 122-4;
of nebulæ, 126-7, 134
Meteors, abundance, 119, 133;
mineralogy, 121-2, 134;
hyperbolic orbits, 133;
attendance on the sun, 236
Meteor-swarms, progressive dispersal, 72, 124;
constitution, 122-4, 128-131;
primitive existence, 134
Milky Way, theories regarding, 16-17, 215;
undeveloped condition, 201, 207;
relation to sun's movement, 247
Mohl, protoplasm, 270
Moment of momentum, 23, 40, 44, 45, 65, 209
Moon, origin, 87-92, 97, 139, 145;
retreat from the earth, 244
Moulton, nebular cosmogony, 44, 51, 82
Myers, systems of β Lyræ and U Pegasi, 109-110
Nebulæ, gaseous composition, 37, 153, 201, 205;
illusory resolution, 53;
spiral structure, 79-80, 106, 146, 190, 204-208, 211-214;
classification, 199;
development, 200-202, 205, 207-211;
relation to stars, 202-3, 205;
helium ingredient, 230, 255
Nebular hypothesis, propounded by Kant, 22-8;
by Laplace, 29-31, 38, 52-3, 61;
difficulties, 39-52, 54-6;
amendments, 60-82
Nebulium, a constituent of nebulæ, 54, 153, 201
Neptune, retrograde system of, 43, 52, 237
Newcomb, transverse observation of the zodiacal light, 260
Newton, transmission of gravity, 184, 185
Nova Persei, nebulous appurtenance, 206
Perrine, new Jovian satellites, 240
Pezénas, notice of the counterglow, 259
Phobos, anomalous revolution, 47-8, 237
Phœbe, retrograde motion, 96, 237-8
Pickering, E. C., binary nature of V Puppis, 112;
structural relations of the Looped Nebula, 213
Pickering, W. H., origin of Phœbe, 97, 238;
photograph of a great nebula, 212;
satellite discoveries, 237, 240
Plato, conception of a world-soul, 8
Poincaré, rotational equilibrium, 101, 105, 110, 143;
destiny of the solar system, 243-4
Prestwich, Laurentian graphite, 279
Proctor, structure of the Milky Way, 214
Protoplasm, its properties, 270-273
Protyle, supposed discovery, 149, 154-7;
function and qualities, 152;
cosmic relations, 164-5
Prout, unity of matter, 152
Radio-activity, possible effects, 33-4, 229;
discovery, 157;
nature and cause, 158-9, 162-3, 196
Red stars, affinities, 224-6
Redi, transmission of life, 268
Reynolds, explanation of gravity, 170;
molecular physics, 188, 192-3
Richter, germ-laden aerolites, 280
Roberts, A. W., systems of R2 Centauri and of V Puppis, 111, 113
Roberts, Isaac, spiral arrangements of stars, 214
Roche, planet-making expedients, 48;
reconstruction of Laplace's hypothesis, 62-67
Roche's limit, 63, 115-6
Röntgen rays, discovery, 157;
ethereal nature, 158, 176;
electronic effects, 163;
suggested connection with gravity, 176
Rothmann, early notice of the zodiacal light, 256
Russell, photographs of Magellanic Clouds, 213
Rutherford, atomic disintegration, 162
Satellites, periods of revolution, 46;
anomalies of movement, 47-8, 52, 96, 236-9;
effects on of tidal friction, 93-4, 96, 97, 238;
origin by fission, 105;
'asteroidal,' 239-40
Saturnian system, an example to cosmogonists, 41, 71;
anomalies, 49, 52, 96, 237-240
Schaeberle, photographs of nebulous spirals, 204, 212
Secchi, star-classification, 219
See, tidal friction in stellar systems, 98, 142
Shelley's Demiorgon, 9
Solar system, origin, 22, 39-42, 69-82, 241;
anomalies, 29, 43-52, 236-241;
mechanism, 30, 234-5;
stability, 235, 242;
springs of decadence, 243-5;
translation, 245-8
Spectroscopic binaries, 98, 112-114, 142-4, 221
Spencer, status of nebulæ, 54;
spontaneous generation, 270
Spinoza, pantheistic views, 9
Stars, relations to nebulæ, 35-6, 202-3;
distribution, 147;
relative ages, 217-221, 225;
spectra, 221-5
Stokes, Sir George, nature of life, 276
Stoney, criticism of gravitational hypothesis, 179
Sun, mode of development, 25, 31;
maintenance of heat, 31-5;
helium-constituent, 55-6;
stellar relationships, 224-5;
actual standing, 232-3;
motion in space, 245-8
Swedenborg, cosmic evolution, 4, 6, 15
Thales, ideas of cosmic evolution, 4, 14, 151
Thomson, J. J., mass of corpuscles, 158;
gravitational effects, 173;
Röntgen rays and gravity, 176;
ether and matter, 190
Tidal friction, effects in earth-moon system, 28, 87-92, 94, 97, 244;
in other sub-systems, 48, 50, 93-7, 238-9;
on binary stars, 98-9, 108, 142;
modifying power, 46-7, 67-8, 83-7
Tisserand, transmission-rate of gravity, 175
Uranian system, retrograde motion, 43, 52, 70, 237
Variable stars, 108-115
Venus, mode of rotation, 96
Vogel, stellar development, 219, 225
Whewell, status of nebulæ, 54
Whittaker, undulatory theory of gravity, 178-9
Wilson, radium in the sun, 34
Wolf, C., motion of Phobos, 48;
solar tidal friction, 67;
criticism of Faye's cosmogony, 73
Wolf, Max, photographs of the zodiacal light, 263
World Soul, function in cosmogony, 8-9
Wright, theory of the Milky Way, 16-17, 18, 20
Zodiacal light, origin, 256-7, 261, 264;
triple aspect, 257-60;
transversal dimensions, 260;
constitution, 262;
plane of extension, 262-3
BILLING AND SONS, LTD., PRINTERS, GUILDFORD