I remarked that I did not conceive the time ever could arrive when the

results of such calculations would be of any utility. I added, however,

that they offered a striking parallel with, although at an immeasurable

distance from, the successive creations of animal life, as developed

by the vast epochs of geological time. The flash of intellectual

light which illuminated the countenances of my three friends at this

unexpected juxtaposition was most gratifying.

Encouraged by the quick apprehension with which these views had been

accepted, I continued the subject, and pointed out the application of

the same reasoning to the nature of miracles.

The same machine could be set in such a manner that these laws might

exist for any assigned number of times, whether large or small; also,

that it was not necessary that these laws should be different, but

the same law might, when {390} the machine was set, be ordered to

reappear, after any desired interval.

Thus we might suppose an observer watching the machine, to see a known

law continually fulfilled, until after a lengthened period, when a new

law has been appointed to come in. This new law might after a single

instance cease, and the first law might again be restored, and continue

for another interval, when the second new law might again govern the

machine as before for a single instance, and then give place to the

original law.

This property of a mere piece of mechanism may have a parallel in the

laws of human life. That all men die is the result of a vast induction

of instances. That one or more men at given times shall be restored to

life, may be as much a consequence of the law of existence appointed

for man at his creation, as the appearance and reappearance of the

isolated cases of apparent exception in the arithmetical machine.

〈MIRACLES AND PROPHECY.〉

But the workings of machinery run parallel to those of intellect. The

Analytical Engine might be so set, that at definite periods, known

only to its maker, a certain lever might become moveable during the

calculations then making. The consequence of moving it might be to

cause the then existing law to be violated for one or more times, after

which the original law would resume its reign. Of course the maker of

the Calculating Engine might confide this fact to the person using it,

who would thus be gifted with the power of prophecy if he foretold the

event, or of working a miracle at the proper time, if he withheld his

knowledge from those around until the moment of its taking place.

〈SINGULAR POINTS OF CURVES.〉

Such is the analogy between the construction of machinery to calculate

and the occurrence of miracles. A further illustration may be taken

from geometry. Curves are represented {391} by equations. In certain

curves there are portions, such as ovals, disconnected from the rest

of the curve. By properly assigning the values of the constants, these

ovals may be reduced to single points. These singular points may exist

upon a branch of a curve, or may be entirely isolated from it; yet

these points fulfil by then positions the law of the curve as perfectly

as any of those which, by their juxtaposition and continuity, form any

of its branches.

Miracles, therefore, are not the breach of established laws, but they

are the very circumstances that indicate the existence of far higher

laws, which at the appointed time produce their pre-intended results.

In 1835, the British Association visited Dublin. I had been anxious to

promote this visit, from political as well as scientific motives. I had

several invitations to the residences of my friends in that hospitable

country; but I thought I could be of more use by occupying apartments

in Trinity College, which had kindly been placed at my disposal by the

provost and fellows.

After I had enjoyed the college hospitality during three or four days,

I was walking with an intimate friend, who suggested to me that I was

giving great cause of offence to my learned hosts. Not having the

slightest idea how this could have arisen, I anxiously inquired by what

inadvertence I had done so. He observed that it arose from my dress. I

looked at the various articles of my costume with a critical eye, and

could discover nothing exaggerated in any portion of it. I then begged

my friend to explain how I had unconsciously offended in that respect.

He replied, “Your waistcoat is of a bright green.” I became still more

puzzled, until he remarked that I was wearing O’Connell’s colours in

the midst of the Protestant University, whose guest I was. {392}

〈DIFFICULTY OF CHOOSING A DECENT WAISTCOAT.〉

I thanked my friend sincerely, and requested him to accompany me to

my rooms, that I might change the offending waistcoat. My travelling

wardrobe was not large, and, unfortunately, we found in it no entirely

unobjectionable waistcoat. I therefore put on an under-waistcoat with

a light-blue border, and requested him to accompany me to a tailor’s,

that I might choose an inoffensive colour. As I was not to remain

long in Dublin, I wished to select a waistcoat which might do double

service, as not too gay for the morning, and not too dull for the

evening.

On arriving at the tailor’s, he placed before me a profusion of

beautiful silks, which I was assured contained all the newest and most

approved patterns. Out of these I selected ten or a dozen, as best

suiting my own taste. I then requested him to remove from amongst them

any which might be considered as a party emblem. He took each of them

rapidly up, and tossing it to another part of the counter, pronounced

the whole batch to appertain to one party or the other.

Thus limited in my choice, I was compelled to adopt a waistcoat of all

work, of rather gayer colours than good taste would willingly have

selected for morning use. I explained to the knight of the thimble

my dilemma. He swore upon the honour of his order that the finished

waistcoat should be at my rooms in the college punctually as the clock

struck eight the next morning.

During the rest of the day I buttoned up my coat, and the broad

light-blue border of my thin under-waistcoat was alone visible. My

modesty, however, was a little uneasy, lest it should be thought that I

was wearing the decoration of a Guelphic knight.

I rose early the next morning: eight o’clock arrived, but no waistcoat.

The college breakfast in the hall was punctual {393} at a quarter past

eight; 8·20 had arrived, but still no waistcoat. At last, at half-past

eight, the squire of the faithless knight of the thimble arrived with

the vest.

Thus equipped, I rushed to the hall, and found that my college friends

had waited for my arrival. I explained to the Dean[53] that I had been

detained by an unpunctual tailor, who had not brought home my waistcoat

until half an hour after the appointed time. We then commenced the

serious business which assembled us together. The breakfast was superb,

and the society delightful. I enjoyed them both, being fortunately

quite unconscious that every eye was examining the artistic and

æsthetic garment with which I had been so recently invested. I thus

acquired for a time the character of a dandy of the first water. It

has not unfrequently been my fate in life to have gained a character

for worth or worthlessness upon grounds quite as absurd, which I have

afterwards seldom taken the trouble to explain.

[53] The Rev. S. J. MacLean, Fellow Trin. Coll., Dublin.

The Dean, however, quickly saw through the outer covering, and before

the meeting was over I felt that a friendship had commenced which

time could only strengthen. One day, whilst we were walking together,

MacLean told me that he had heard with great interest from one of his

colleagues of some views of mine relative to miracles, which he wished

much to hear from my own lips.

I remarked that the explanation of them would require much more time

than we could afford during the bustle of the Association; but that I

should afterwards, at any quiet time, be delighted to discuss them with

him.

After the meeting of the British Association terminated, I made a short

tour to visit some of my friends in the North of Ireland. On my return

to Dublin I again found MacLean, {394} and had the good fortune to

enjoy his society in a tour which we took to Killarney.

〈THE AUTHOR PREACHES A SERMON ON THE BANK OF KILLARNEY.〉

One fine morning, as we were walking together, it being Sunday,

MacLean, looking somewhat doubtfully at me, asked whether I had any

objection to go to church. I replied, “None whatever,” and turned

towards the church. Before we reached it an idea occurred to my mind,

and I said, “MacLean, you asked me, in the midst of the bustle at

Dublin, about my views respecting miracles. Have you any objection to

take a walk with me by the side of the lake, and I will give you a

sermon upon that subject.”—“Not the least,” replied my friend; and we

turned immediately towards the banks of that beautiful lake.

I then proceeded to explain that those views of the apparently

successive creations opened out to us by geology are in reality the

fulfilment of one far more comprehensive law. I pointed out that a

miracle, instead of being a violation of a law, is in fact the most

eminent fulfilment of a vast law—that it bears the same relation to an

apparent law that singular points of a curve bear to the visible form

of that curve. My friend inquired whether I had published anything upon

these subjects. On my answering in the negative, he strongly urged

me to do so. I remarked upon the extreme difficulty of making them

intelligible to the public. Reverting again to the singular points

of curves, I observed that the illustration, which in a few words I

had placed before him, would be quite unintelligible even to men of

cultivated minds not familiar with the doctrine of curves.

We had now arrived at a bench, on which we sat. MacLean, wrapt up in

the new views thus opened out to his mind, remained silent for a long

interval. At last, turning towards me, he made these remarks: “How

wonderful it is! Here {395} am I, bound by the duties of my profession

to inquire into the attributes of the Creator; bound still more

strongly by an intense desire to do so; possessing, like yourself, the

same powerful science to aid my inquiries; and yet, within this last

short half hour, you have opened to me views of the Creator surpassing

all of which I have hitherto had any conception!”

These views had evidently made a very deep impression on his mind.

Amidst the beautiful scenery in the South of Ireland he frequently

reverted to the subject; and, having accompanied me to Waterford,

offered to cross the Channel with me if I could spend one single day at

Milford Haven.

Unfortunately, long previous arrangements prevented this delay. I

parted from my friend, who, though thus recently acquired, seemed, from

the coincidence of our thoughts and feelings, to have been the friend

of my youth. I little thought, on parting, that one whom I so much

admired, so highly esteemed, would in a few short months be separated

for ever from the friends who loved him, and from the society he

adorned.

{396}

CHAPTER XXX.

RELIGION.

“Before thy holy altar, sacred Truth,

I bow in manhood, as I knelt in youth;

There let me bend till this frail form decay,

And my last accents hail thine opening day.”

The _à priori_ proof of the existence of a Deity — Proof from

Revelation — Dr. Johnson’s definition of Inspiration — Various

Meanings assigned to the word ‘Revelation’ — Illustration of

transmitted Testimony — The third source of proof of the existence

of a Deity — By an examination of His Works — Effect of hearing the

Athanasian Creed read for the first time.

There are three sources from which it is stated that man can arrive at

the knowledge of the existence of a Deity.

1. The _à priori_ or metaphysical proof. Such is that of Dr. Samuel

Clarke.

2. From Revelation.

3. From the examination of the works of the Creator.

1. The first of these, the _à priori_ proof, is of such a nature that

it can only be apprehended in a high state of civilization, and then

only by the most intellectual. Even amongst that very limited class it

does not, as an argument, command universal assent.

2. The argument deduced from revelation is advanced in many countries

and for several different forms of faith. {397} When it is sincerely

adopted it deserves the most respectful examination. It must, however,

on the other hand, be submitted to the most scrutinizing inquiry. As

long as the believer in any form of revelation maintains it by evidence

or by argument, it is only by such means that it ought to be questioned.

〈WILFUL ABUSE OF LANGUAGE.〉

When, however, professed believers dare to throw doubt upon the motives

of those whose arguments they are unable to refute, and still more,

when, availing themselves of the imperfections of language, they apply

to their opponents epithets which they can defend in one sense but

know will be interpreted in another—when they speak of an adversary

as a disbeliever, because, though he believes in the same general

revelation, he doubts the accuracy of certain texts, or believes in a

different interpretation of others—when they apply the term infidel,

meaning thereby a disbelief in their _own_ view of revelation, but

knowing that it will be understood as disbelief in a Deity,—then it is

at least allowable to remind them that they are richly paid for the

support of their own doctrines, whilst those they revile have no such

motives to influence or to mislead their judgment.

Before, however, we enter upon that great question it is necessary to

observe that belief is not a voluntary operation. Belief is the result

of the influence of a greater or less preponderance of evidence acting

upon the human mind.

It ought also to be remarked that the word revelation assumes, as a

fact, that a Being exists from whom it proceeds; whilst, on the other

hand, the existence of a Deity is possible without any revelation.

〈INSPIRATION.〉

The first question that arises is the meaning of the word revelation.

In its ordinary acceptation it is said to be a direct communication

from the Deity to an individual human {398} being. Dr. Johnson

remarks:—“Inspiration is when an overpowering impression of any

propositions is made upon the mind by God himself, that gives a

convincing and indubitable evidence of the truth and divinity of it.”

Be it so; but then, as such, it is not revelation to any _other_ human

being. All others receive it from the statement of the person to

whom the revelation was vouchsafed. To all others its truth depends

entirely on human testimony. Now in a certain sense all our faculties

being directly given to us by the Supreme Being might be said to be

revelations. But this is clearly not the religious meaning of the word.

In the latter sense it is a direct special communication of knowledge

to one or more persons which is not given to the rest of the race.

Before any person can admit the truth of a revelation asserted by

another, he must have clearly established in his own mind what evidence

he would require to believe in a special revelation to himself.

But when he communicates this revelation to his fellow-creatures that

which may truly be a revelation to him is not revelation to them. It is

to them merely human testimony, which they are bound to examine more

strictly from its abnormal nature.

Let us now suppose that this believer in his own special revelation

offers to work a miracle in proof of the truth of his doctrine, and

even, further, that he does perform a miracle. Those who witness it

have now before them far higher evidence of inspiration than that of

the prophet’s testimony. They have the evidence of their own senses

that an act contrary to the ordinary laws of nature has been performed.

But even here the amount of conviction will be influenced by the state

of knowledge the spectator of the miracle {399} himself possesses of

the laws of nature which he _believes_ he has thus seen violated.[54]

〈REVELATION.〉

Granting him, however, the most profound knowledge, the evidence

influencing his own mind will be inferior to that which acts upon the

mind of the inspired worker of the miracle. If there are more witnesses

than one thus qualified, this will to a certain extent augment the

evidence, although a large number might not give it a proportional

addition of weight.

[54] I have adopted in the text that view of the nature of

miracles which prevailed many years ago. In 1838, I published, in

the “Ninth Bridgewater Treatise,” my own views on those important

subjects—the nature of miracles and of prophecy. Those opinions

have been received and adopted by many of the most profound

thinkers of very different religious opinions.

It would be profane to compare evidence derived directly from the

Almighty, which must necessarily be irresistible, with the testimony

of man, which must always be carefully weighed by taking into account

the state of his knowledge, his prejudices, his interests, and his

truthfulness. On the other hand, it would lead to endless confusion,

and be destructive to all reasoning on the subject, to apply the same

word ‘Revelation’ to things so different in their nature as—

The immediate act of the Deity.

The impression produced by that act on the mind of the person inspired.

The description of it given by him in the language of the people he

addressed.

The record made of his description by those who heard it.

The transmission of this through various languages and people to the

present day.

We have now arrived at the highest external evidence man can have—the

declaration of inspiration by the prophet, {400} supported by an

admitted miracle performed before competent witnesses, to prove the

truth of his inspiration.

〈TRANSMITTED TESTIMONY.〉

But to all who were not present, the evidence of this is entirely

dependent on the truth and even upon the accuracy of _human testimony_.

At every step of its transmission it undergoes some variation in the

words in which it is related; and without the least want of good faith

at any stage, the mere imperfection of language will necessarily

vary the terms by which it is described. Even when written language

has conveyed it to paper as a MSS., there may be several different

manuscripts by different persons. Even in the extraordinary case of two

MSS. agreeing perfectly there remains a perpetual source of doubt as

to the exact interpretation arising from the continually fluctuating

meaning of the words themselves.

Few persons who have not reflected deeply, or had a very wide

experience, are at all aware of the errors arising from this source.

〈RUSSIAN SCANDAL.〉

There is a game occasionally played in society which eminently

illustrates the value of testimony transmitted with the most perfect

good faith through a succession of truthful persons. It is called

Russian Scandal, and is thus played:—

One of the party writes a short simple tale, perhaps a single anecdote.

The original composer of the tale, whom we will call A, retires into

another room with B, to whom he communicates it. A then returns to the

party, and sends in C, who is told by B the tale he had just learnt.

B then returns to the party and sends in D, who is informed of the

anecdote by C, and so on until the story has been transmitted through

twelve educated and truthful witnesses.

The twelfth then relates to the whole party the story he has just

heard: after that the original written document is read. {401} The wit

or fun of the transmitted story is invariably gone, and nothing but an

unmeaning platitude generally remains.

One very interesting case occurred a few years ago in which the wit of

the original story had evidently been lost, but had afterwards been

revived in a different form in the latter part of its transmission. The

story at starting consisted of the following anecdote:—

The Duke of Rutland and Theodore Hook having dined with the Lord

Mayor, were looking for their hats previously to their departure. The

Duke, unable to find his own, said to his friend: “Hook, I have lost

my castor.” The Lord Chief Baron, Sir Frederick Pollock, was at that

moment passing down the stairs. Hook perceiving him, replied instantly,

“Never mind, take Pollock’s” (Pollux).

The story told at the conclusion, after a dozen transmissions, was

thus:—

Theodore Hook and the Duke of Rutland were dining with the Bishop of

Oxford. Both being equally incapable of finding their respective hats,

the Duke said to the wit, “Hook, you have stolen my castor.” “No,”

replied the prince of jokers, “I haven’t stolen your castor, but I

should have no objection to take your beaver;” alluding to Belvoir

Castle, the splendid seat of the Duke of Rutland, which in the language

of the clay is pronounced precisely in the same way as the name of that

animal whom man robs of his great-coat in order to make a covering for

his own skull.

It requires considerable training to become an accurate witness of

facts. No two persons, however well trained, ever express, in the same

form of words, the series of facts they have both observed.

* * * * *

〈THE BELIEF IN THE CREATOR FROM HIS WORKS.〉

3. There remains a third source from which we arrive at {402} the

knowledge of the existence of a supreme Creator, namely, from _an

examination of his works_. Unlike transmitted testimony, which is

weakened at every stage, this evidence derives confirmation from the

progress of the individual as well as from the advancement of the

knowledge of the race.

Almost all thinking men who have studied the laws which govern the

animate and the inanimate world around us, agree that the belief in

the existence of one Supreme Creator, possessed of infinite wisdom and

power, is open to far less difficulties than the supposition of the

absence of _any_ cause, or of the existence of a _plurality_ of causes.

In the _works_ of the Creator ever open to our examination, we possess

a firm basis on which to raise the superstructure of an enlightened

creed. The more man inquires into the laws which regulate the

material universe, the more he is convinced that all its varied forms

arise from the action of a few simple principles. These principles

themselves converge, with accelerating force, towards some still more

comprehensive law to which all matter seems to be submitted. Simple as

that law may possibly be, it must be remembered that it is only one

amongst an infinite number of simple laws: that each of these laws has

consequences at least as extensive as the existing one, and therefore

that the Creator who selected the present law must have foreseen the

consequences of all other laws.

The _works_ of the Creator, ever present to our senses, give a living

and perpetual testimony of his power and goodness far surpassing any

evidence transmitted through human testimony. The testimony of man

becomes fainter at every stage of transmission, whilst each new inquiry

into the works of the Almighty gives to us more exalted views of his

wisdom, his goodness, and his power. {403}

〈THE ATHANASIAN CREED.〉

When I was between sixteen and seventeen years of age, I heard, or

rather I attended, for the first time, to the words of the Athanasian

Creed. I felt the utmost disgust at the direct contradiction in

terms which its words implied; and during several weeks I recurred,

at intervals, to the Prayer-Book to assure myself that I rightly

remembered its singular and self-contradictory assertions. On inquiry

amongst my seniors, I was assured that it was all true, and that it was

part of the Christian religion, and that it was most wicked to doubt

a single sentence of it. Whereupon I was much alarmed, seeing that I

found it absolutely impossible to believe it, and consequently, if it

were an essential dogma, I clearly did not belong to that faith.

In the course of my inquiries, I met with the work upon the Trinity,

by Dr. Samuel Clarke. This I carefully examined, and although very

far from being satisfied, I ceased from further inquiry. This change

arose probably from my having acquired the much more valuable work of

the same author, on the Being and Attributes of God. This I studied,

and felt that its doctrine was much more intelligible and satisfactory

than that of the former work. I may now state, as the result of a long

life spent in studying the _works_ of the Creator, that I am satisfied

they afford far more satisfactory and more convincing proofs of the

existence of a supreme Being than any evidence transmitted through

human testimony can possibly supply.

If I were to express my opinion of the Athanasian Creed merely from my

experience of the motives and actions of mankind, I should say that

it was written by a clever, but most unscrupulous person, who did not

believe one syllable of the doctrine,—that he purposely asserted and

reiterated propositions which contradict each other in terms, in order

that {404} in after and more enlightened times, he should not be

supposed to have believed in the religion which he had, from worldly

motives, adopted.

The Athanasian Creed is a direct contradiction in terms: if three

things can be one thing, then the whole science of arithmetic is at

once annihilated, and those wonderful laws, which, as astronomers have

shown, govern the solar system, are mere dreams. If, on the other hand,

it is attempted to be shown that there may be some mystic sense in

which three and one are the same thing, then all language through which

alone man can exert his reasoning faculty becomes useless, because it

contradicts itself and is untrue.[55]

[55] See Appendix, Note B.

〈THE BASIS OF VIRTUE IS TRUTH.〉

The great basis of virtue in man is _truth_—that is, the constant

application of the same word to the same thing.

The first element of accurate knowledge is _number_—the foundation and

the measure of all he knows of the material world.

I believe these views of the Athanasian Creed are by no means

singular,—that they are indeed very generally held, although very

rarely asserted. If such is the case, it were wise to take the

opportunity which the new Commission for the revision of the Liturgy

presents, to remove from the Rubric doctrines so thoroughly destructive

of all true religion, and about which the author, doubtless in mockery,

so complacently tells us, that whosoever does not believe them “without

doubt, he shall perish everlastingly.”

The true value of the Christian religion rests, not upon speculative

views of the Creator, which must _necessarily_ be different in each

individual, according to the extent of the knowledge of the finite

being, who employs his own feeble powers in contemplating the infinite:

but it rests upon those {405} doctrines of kindness and benevolence

which that religion claims and enforces, not merely in favour of man

himself, but of every creature susceptible of pain or of happiness.

〈IDENTITY DEPENDS ON MEMORY.〉

A curious reflection presents itself when we meditate upon a state of

rewards and punishments in a future life. We must possess the memory of

what we did during our existence upon this earth in order to give them

those characteristics.

In fact, memory seems to be the only faculty which must of necessity be

preserved in order to render a future state possible.

If memory be absolutely destroyed, our personal identity is lost.

Further reflection suggests that in a future state we may, as it were,

awake to the recollection that, previously to this our present life,

we existed in some former state, possibly in many former ones, and

that the then state of existence may have been the consequences of our

conduct in those former stages.

It would be a very interesting research if naturalists could devise any

means of showing that the dragon-fly, in its three stages of a grub

beneath the soil—an animal living in the water—and that of a flying

insect—had in the last stage any memory of its existence in its first.

Another question connected with this subject offers still greater

difficulty. Man possesses five sources of knowledge through his senses.

He proudly thinks himself the highest work of the Almighty Architect;

but it is quite _possible_ that he may be the very lowest. If other

animals possess senses of a different nature from ours, it can scarcely

be possible that we could ever be aware of the fact. Yet those animals,

having other sources of information and of pleasure, might, though

despised by us, yet enjoy a corporeal as well as an intellectual

existence far higher than our own.

{406}

CHAPTER XXXI.

A VISION.

How, when, and where this vision occurred it is unnecessary for me at

present to state. It did not arise under the action of the laughing-gas

or of chloroform, but by some much more real and immediate spiritual

action. I had no perception of body or of matter, yet I felt that I

was in the presence of a reasoning being of a different order from

man. Language was not the means of our communication; yet it became

necessary, in order to be intelligible, when I wrote down the facts

immediately after that singular event—but language itself is quite

insufficient to give an adequate idea of its immense apparent duration.

The first difficulty I felt in this communion with an unearthly Spirit

was the notion of space. Our views of it differed widely. On many

points, as, for instance, measure, we apprehended each other perfectly,

for each referred to the height of an individual of his own race—of

course about six feet. At last I discovered that my idea of space,

which was founded upon vacuity, was exactly the reverse of that of the

Spirit, which was based upon solidity. I will now, as far as I can,

place before my reader the information I received.

〈THE CONSEQUENCES OF DOUBT.〉

The first desire I expressed to the Spirit was to learn, if possible,

his view of the origin of all things. He stated that {407} the records

of his race, which he declared was the highest in creation, went back,

with great certainty, for myriads of years before all other created

beings: that previously to this, their history was somewhat obscure,

but had recently been placed upon a much surer footing by some of their

most prominent Spirits.

(_a._) In the beginning all space was fluid—apparently one universal

whitish liquid extended in all directions through what we should call

space; so I thought at first that this might have some relation to

the “milky way.” Its temperature was considerable; and in about every

thousand years a torrent of this fluid, of a still higher temperature,

passed through space with a kind of gushing rush. It was peopled by

myriads of happy spirits floating about in it.

After long ages of happiness a dispute arose between two Spirits as to

the possibility of the existence of matter under any other form than

that of a fluid. The Power which controlled their destiny, justly angry

at their presumption, threw into the fluid a very small piece of what,

as far as I could understand, was like organic matter.

(_b._) The effect was astounding: all the fluid in contact with this

intrusive piece of matter gradually lost its fluidity, and a new state

of matter or of space arose which had been unknown in all past time.

The change advanced slowly but certainly, on every side of the intruded

matter. In its new form, as far as I could make out, space became

elastic gelatinous matter. The two quarrelsome Spirits were the first

to be surrounded in it. None in the immediate presence of this new kind

of space could move away, and absorption went on rapidly imprisoning

millions of beings.

A great controversy arose as to the state of those embedded in the

jelly. Some supposed that they were miserably squeezed, {408} and

maintained that they deserved to be thoroughly wretched. Whilst others

asserted, that being entirely relieved from movement, theirs must be

a state of perfect blessedness, their whole faculties being absorbed

in contemplation. In the midst of these discussions the process of

jellification was advancing more and more rapidly, and in ten thousand

years the whole of infinite fluidity throughout all space, with all its

myriads of Beings embedded in it, was transformed into this new form

of space. From the description conveyed to me by the Spirit, I should

infer that the whole of what we call infinite space had now become more

nearly like _blancmange_ than any other sub-aërial substance.

〈SPACE TOO LARGE FOR ITSELF.〉

(_c._) After a state of repose of many hundred thousand years a new

catastrophe occurred. Space became too large even for itself. It then

suffered, for many hundred thousand years, enormous compression. During

this long period all its embedded Spirits perished, and space itself,

during six hundred thousand years, became one vast and solid desert,

containing no living beings.

But the vast periods of the past were as nothing compared with the long

series of cycles which now succeeded—each in itself comprising millions

of years.

About this time recorded history began, and is believed, by the Spirit

with whom I was in conference, to be as authentic as the nature of the

circumstances admit.

One solitary survivor seems to have escaped the crash of systems and

the condensation of space. He proceeded to cut himself into two parts,

and to advise each part to follow out the same course, directing them

to transmit the command of their first parent throughout all time.

Alone, in the midst of infinite solidity, the newly-severed beings,

setting themselves back to back, exerted force. Thus urged, matter

itself gave {409} way, and they occupied an elongated hollow space.

Then again bisecting themselves, they further lengthened the path.

After ten thousand years they began to exert their energies in the

transverse directions of that path, and thus widened it. The race

then began to form chambers, each for himself, into which he might

retire for abstruse calculations, the nature of which seemed almost

beyond the remotest reach of utility, although not beyond the power of

the Analytical Engine. Thus vast cities, as it were, became formed,

penetrating in every direction through solid space.

(_d._) After millions of years of industry quietness and calculations,

a most extraordinary catastrophe occurred. It was with the greatest

difficulty that I could discover its nature, or how to explain it

in ordinary language. The nearest approach I can make towards its

explanation is this:—It seemed, from what my spiritual informant

communicated, that the whole universe was lifted up bodily, and then

borne rapidly back with a great shock, thus disarranging everything,

and destroying millions of their race.

〈CONVERSION OF ATTICS INTO CELLARS.〉

But the most incomprehensible part of this historic narration was, that

on the survivors recovering their senses, they found that everything

which had formerly been on their right hand was now on their left. They

also observed, to their still greater dismay, that every abode in the

universe was turned topsy-turvy, so that the surviving philosophers,

who had retired to their attics to study, suddenly found themselves in

their cellars.

I have conveyed, as carefully as the nature of the subject admits, the

impressions this relation made upon me, sometimes assisted in my slow

apprehensions by another unembodied Spirit, whom, to distinguish from

the relator, I shall call Mathesis. {410}

〈THE TRUE USE OF FIGURES.〉

Whenever a man can get hold of numbers, they are invaluable: if

correct, they assist in informing his own mind, but they are still more

useful in deluding the minds of others. Numbers are the masters of

the weak, but the slaves of the strong. I therefore earnestly pressed

for more exact information as to the possible number of years; but it

appeared beyond the Spirit’s power to estimate it, even within a few

millions. He mentioned incidentally that the last vast period he had

just described was merely one of many others of similar extent: also,

that though these periods were not actually equal, the difference,

which even in extreme cases only reached a hundred thousand years, was

not worth considering.

To gratify my longing desire for information on this most important

subject, the Spirit proceeded to inform me that their histories

recorded a large number of these successive catastrophes, and that they

were succeeded by a new and more terrible one, which he was proceeding

to explain, when I interrupted him by asking for an approximate

estimate of their number. Aware of my anxious desire for numerical

accuracy, he said he could, in this one instance, gratify it fully.

“If there is,” said my informant, “any one point better established

than all others, it is that there had occurred exactly one hundred and

twenty-one of these avatars of destruction.”

I now felt as if I had discovered one solitary fixed point in the vast

chaos of time. My guide described to me that, after the termination

of this system of one hundred and twenty-one cycles, a new and more

terrific system of events followed each other.

First, however, he said he must mention an interregnum, irregular in

its progress, but still of vast duration; {411} in fact, some of his

race had been able to prove that it occupied at least three times as

long as any one of those just described.

〈VARIOUS SHAKES AND SMASHES.〉

(_e._) It commenced by a motion very like that to which space itself

had been submitted at the end of each avatar, finishing with a smash,

and followed by a period of repose of about ten thousand years. It

however differed from those avatars inasmuch as there was no inversion

of the position of cellar and attic.

(_f._) A new form of shaking of universal solid space now arose, much

more frequent but less destructive than the former. It occurred about

once in two years, and was repeated many hundred thousand times.

(_g._) Again a period exactly similar to that recorded in (_e_)

occurred.

(_h._) This was followed by a long series of movements of all solidity,

approaching, as far as I could understand it, to an oscillating or wave

motion. This continued without intermission during exactly three of

those cycles whose precise number had been preserved.

(_i._) During the whole of this period there was a great destruction

of the race. A universal sickness arose and continued more or less, so

that multitudes actually perished, and those who escaped could scarcely

carry on the ordinary calculations necessary for their existence.

(_j._) Another period followed, ending with a smash excessively like

(_e_).

(_k._) Then followed a period of shaking like that in (_f_).

(_l._) Then another smash like (_e_).

(_m._) Period of long repose.

After this came a long state of absolute rest.

Such was the dawn of the most terrible, as well as the {412} most

recent, of these vast changes in the universe which had been so well

related by my ethereal guide.

〈A COMMISSION SENT TO EXPLORE.〉

(_n._) The temperature of the universe had been uniform throughout

many millions of years: it now began to change in different isolated

places. Increased cold in some parts drove the inhabitants from their

dwellings. This was followed by torrents of invisible air, bringing

infection and death to millions of their race. Public opinion was

roused, and their academies of science and of arts were urged to devise

a remedy. An expedition was sent by their school of Science and of

Geology to endeavour to trace the origin of this plague.

The Commission, after long investigation, reported that they had

penetrated solid space in their usual way, putting each other back to

back, and pressing the foremost forward. It also stated that one of

them had invented a method of arrangement of the members in a kind of

wedge form, which they found much more effective for their object.

The result of this, however, was that the leader of the column got so

many squeezes, that all their best Spirits declined a position for

which coarser animals were better fitted. Consequently, most of their

Presidents of scientific bodies were selected from what we should call

the “_Demi-monde_” of science.

The first report of this Commission stated that, after penetrating

space (by pushing) through many thousand miles, they had reached the

cause of all the evil. They had ascertained that it arose from the fact

they had discovered,—that space itself was discontinuous:—that they had

reached a spot where there was a kind of chasm in it, into which some

of them tumbled, and were with difficulty extricated:—in fact, they

reported that it was only necessary to send proper persons to fill up

this chasm in order to restore the universe to health. {413}

〈WELL FED AND WELL PAID ON RETURN.〉

Great rejoicings were made on the return of this Commission. Public

meetings were held, speeches were made, papers were read, and medals

were lavished. Those who had interest used their services on this

committee to justify their promotion, each in his own different line.

Those who had no interest as well as those who had, were anointed daily

during twelve months with what I can but very imperfectly describe by

calling it _lip-salve_. All this while they were fed at the public

expense with _royal food_, which was highly coveted; but as far as I

could make out, its taste must have been somewhat intermediate between

rancid butter and flummery. Whatever this may have been, they relished

it highly, and in truth it seems to have been well suited to their

organs of digestion.

Time, however, went on; the pestilence increased. Strange reports

arose: first, that space itself was decaying; then, that there existed

somewhere in decayed space an immense dragon whose breath produced the

pestilence, and who swallowed up thousands of Spirits at each mouthful.

Another Commission was sent, with instructions to fill up the hole

in space. This was supposed to be a great step in advance. Having

penetrated a very short distance beyond the celebrated chasm, they

found another just like it, and on the same level. They found the

first chasm slightly curved, which had indeed been remarked by an

unpretending member of the former Commission: but so simple a remark

was not thought worth reporting. The second chasm also was found

slightly curved, but its curvature was in an opposite direction,

presenting rudely the appearance of two parentheses, thus (    ).

Upon this discovery the Commission were inclined to return and report

that a series of chasms occurred in advance of the first, and that it

would be useless—indeed, {414} that it would be highly dangerous—to

open more chasms. One of the most modest of the Commissioners, who

had been snubbed on the former occasion, suggested, however, that

these slightly-curved chasms might possibly be portions of some vast

circular crack: an idea which was ridiculed as a wild hypothesis by the

chairman, quizzed by the secretary, and laughed at by all the rest.

Fortunately they were persuaded to excavate a few yards more on the

second vertical chasm or crack, when it became probable that the single

dissentient was right. It soon became certain, and before half the

circle had been uncovered, each member of the commission thought he had

himself been the first to discover its circular shape.

〈THE MODEL CHAIRMAN.〉

But the chairman was a person of large experience. He quietly left the

Commissioners to fight amongst themselves about the discovery of the

circle, and if they chose, even about its quadrature. On his return,

however, he reported that from some very extensive calculations of

his own he had anticipated an elliptic cavity; that he had directed

the attention of the Commissioners to the subject; and that they had

succeeded in verifying his prediction. He also stated that the same

theory led him to the knowledge of the fact, that in certain cases the

ellipse might approach very nearly to a circle, although it could never

actually reach it, whilst on the other hand it might become so flat

as to approach a straight line—an approximation to which nobody ever

suggested that the chairman himself could have attained. The chairman

then, with singular modesty, alluding in his report to one of his

colleagues possessing high rank, great influence and a very moderate

knowledge of science, remarked that it was fortunate for him (the

chairman) that that distinguished member had been so fully occupied

with much more valuable {415} investigations, otherwise he would

certainly have anticipated the important discovery it had fallen to his

own lot to make.

〈THE COMMISSIONERS OUT-MANŒUVRED.〉

In the meantime the Commissioners, who had each wished to appropriate

to himself the discovery of the circle, _now_ thought that this

usurpation of it by their chairman was most unjust towards the

unpretending member who had really made it. They therefore advised him

to claim his own discovery, and promised to back him in asserting it.

But their chairman really was a _clever fellow_,[56] and deep as

Silurian rocks. Aware of the importance of the discovery thus

appropriated, he had already visited the modest Commissioner—had

overwhelmed him with compliments, and had also prevailed upon that

other influential Commissioner whom he had so well buttered in his

Report, to give him a small piece of preferment, which had been

accepted by his victim:—thus putting a padlock upon his lips, which his

brother Commissioners were unable either to unlock or to pick.

[56] A _clever fellow_ may occasionally snatch our applause; but a

_clever man_ can alone command our respect.

After the Report was presented, more speeches were made—more medals

given, but the plague continued, and their universe was depopulated.

A third Commission was afterwards sent, who reported that they found

at the spot previously reached, on either side, two vast circles,

the diameter of each of which was one hundred times the height of an

ordinary individual; that the material occupying space within the

circle differed slightly from that without it; and that it appeared as

if a vast cylinder of space had been pushed through without disturbing

the matter external to it. They also reported that the former

Commissioners had never approached the origin of the mischief, but had

simply worked their way, at right angles, to a {416} line which might

terminate in it at the distance of a thousand miles, more or less,

either on the right or on the left hand of the point they had reached.

〈DISTURBED VISION.〉

At this moment a sound like the roll of distant thunder recalled me to

this lower world, and interrupted my interesting communion with the

world of Spirits. That noise arose from the chimes of the cathedral

clock. Spending a few days at Salisbury, I had wandered into the

cathedral, and being much fatigued, had selected the luxurious pew of

the Dean as a place of temporary rest. Reposing on elastic cushions,

with my head resting on an eider-down pillow, the vision I have related

had taken place.

On removing the pillow I observed a small piece of matter beneath it.

This, upon examination, turned out to be a morsel of decayed Gloucester

cheese. The whole vision was now very clearly explained. The verger had

evidently retired to the most commodious pew to eat his dinner, and had

inadvertently left the small bit of cheese upon the very spot I had

selected for my temporary repose. It was clear that my Spirit had been

put, _en rapport_, with the soul of a mite, one of the most cultivated

of his race.

If the reader will glance over the following brief explanation, he will

be fully convinced that my solution of this vision is the true one.

_Parallel Passages in the Creation of the Universe and in the Birth and

Education of a Gloucester Cheese._

References.

_a._ Milk gushing into the milk-pail at the rate of twenty gushes per

minute. Alternations of greater and less heat.

_b._ Rennet being thrown in, the milk curdles.

_c._ Curds compressed into cheese. {417}

_d._ Cheese turned over daily during 121 days.

A few minutes’ difference in the time of the dairyman’s attendance to

perform this operation made the days slightly unequal.

_e._ Cheese lifted up and pitched into a cart.

_f._ Cheese _jolted_ in cart during half a day on its way to to be

shipped at Gloucester.

_g._ Cheese pitched from cart into ship.

_h._ Ship sails with the cheese for Southampton.

_i._ The motion of the waves makes the mites sea-sick for three days.

Multitudes die.

_j._ Cheese taken from ship and pitched into a cart; as in the period

_e_.

_k._ Cheese conveyed in cart to cheesemonger at Salisbury—the mites

dreadfully _jolted_,

_l._ Cheese pitched into cheesemonger’s shop, as in _e_.

_m._ Long period of repose of the cheese on the cheesemonger’s shelf.

_n._ A cylindrical cavity made and piece taken out for a customer to

taste. Portion of cylinder replaced. Air being let in, a part of the

cheese becomes rotten, in which large worms are produced, giving rise

to the story of the dragon.

〈EXPLANATION.〉

In order to discover the month in which the cheese was made, I remarked

that, since it was turned over on its shelf in the cheese-room exactly

121 times, it must have been first placed there in some month which,

together with the three succeeding months, had a number of days exactly

equal to 121. {418}

〈CALCULATION.〉

I then computed the following Table:—

_Table of the number of Days contained in each four months, commencing

on the first day of each month and ending on the last day of the fourth

following month._

Number

of Days.

1 January to 30 April 120

1 February to 31 May 120

1 March to 30 June 122

1 April to 31 July 122

1 May to 31 August 123

1 June to 30 September 122

1 July to 31 October 123

1 August to 30 November 122

1 September to 31 December 122

1 October to 31 January 123

1 November to 28 February 120

1 December to 31 March 121

Now, from the preceding Table it appears that there is only one month

in the year fulfilling this condition, namely, the month of March. It

follows, therefore, that the cheese must have been made four months

before, that is, in the month of December.

* * * * *

Shortly after this vision I received a visit from that great geologist,

the erudite Professor Ponderdunder,[57] a member of all existing

Academies, and Secretary of the most celebrated How-and-wi Academy

for the _Reconstruction of Primeval Time_. I was anxious to have the

opinion of this learned person upon my recent experience: but he was

evidently envious of my vision, which he treated disrespectfully.

{419} Possessed of an intellect which was anything but precocious,

I had with much labour at last made him apprehend the arithmetic by

which I had discovered the exact month of December in the date of the

great series of 121 cataclysms, and I felt much mortified that he did

not appreciate my ingenuity. All of a sudden he seemed intuitively to

perceive the use that might be made of this vision. He then asked me

with great earnestness whether I had communicated this new method of

reasoning to any other person. On my answering in the negative, he

entreated me not to say a word about it. He was especially anxious that

Gardner Wilkinson, Layard, and Rawlinson should not get hold of it,

lest they might anticipate the discovery which it would enable him to

complete. He assured me that he could, by visiting Nineveh, and taking

the Pyramids and Jericho on his road, with the aid of my formula,

restore the true chronology from the creation.

[57] Author of the celebrated Treatise “On the Entity of Space,”

the basis of all _sound_ metaphysical reasoning.

〈THE LEARNED PONDERDUNDER STARTS FOR JERICHO.〉

Having given him this promise, he left me, and immediately telegraphed

to a very influential friend, the Vice-President who _managed_ the

How-and-wi Academy, suggesting that not a moment should be lost in

authorizing him to set out on this expedition, which although painfully

laborious to himself personally and not without peril, he was willing

to undertake for the glory of the Academy, and from the religious

conviction that it would enable him to refute the frightful heresy of

Bishop Colenso. Within twenty-four hours the faithful telegraph brought

him back the order to start and the credit necessary for his equipment.

He soon completed the latter, and was _en route_ within the time I have

mentioned.

It is with deep regret I have now to state, that just ten days after

the active Secretary had started on his pious mission, I discovered

that my reasoning about the month of December with all its consequences

was completely vitiated {420} by not having taken into consideration

the existence of leap years, in which case the magic number 121 occurs

in no less than four cases; so that nothing at all is decided by it.

I can only add my hope that, if any of my readers should become

acquainted with the whereabouts of the learned Ponderdunder, he would

kindly communicate by electric telegraph this painful intelligence to

that energetic traveller.

I have subsequently been informed that Professor Ponderdunder’s

honorarium is only £800 a-year, and the payment of all travelling

expenses. The former is doubled upon dangerous travel. I was told

that he also enjoys a snug sinecure of considerable value recently

instituted in his own country; being at the head of the department

for the promotion of “_Small Science and Low Art_.” The family of

the Ponderdunders possess the peculiar gift of manipulating learned

bodies. The Flowery—Rhetorical, and the Zoo-Ethnological Societies

barely escaped perdition under their costly autocracy. I regret also

to add, (but truth forbids me to conceal the interesting fact) that

Ponderdunder is _not_ a member of _all_ existing academies as his

visiting card indicated.

On searching the list of the members of the Roman Academy “Dei

Lynxcii,” I find that he is not a Lynx. This, the oldest of European

academies, originally existed in the time of Galileo. About a quarter

of a century ago I had the honour of receiving its diploma.

{421}

CHAPTER XXXII.

VARIOUS REMINISCENCES.

_On Preventing the Forgery of Bank-Notes._

In 1836 imitations of bank-notes were so easily made, and the forgeries

so numerous, that the Directors of the Bank of England resolved on

appointing a small committee to examine the subject, and advise them

upon a remedy.

The Governor of the Bank wrote to ask me whether I would consent to

act upon that committee. Not being myself a professional engineer, I

entertained some doubts whether my presence would be agreeable to the

profession. Having consulted Sir Isambard Brunel and the late Mr. Bryan

Donkin, who had been also applied to, they both pressed me to join them

in the inquiry.

We examined the existing means of preventing forgery, which were

certainly very defective. The system of the Bank of Ireland which had

recently been greatly improved, was then discussed. Not many months

before, I had carefully examined the whole plan at Dublin. After a full

deliberation on the subject, I drew up our Report, which unanimously

recommended its adoption. The identity of the steel plates from which

the bank-notes were to be printed was secured by Perkins’s plan of

multiplying the number of such plates by impressing them all from one

roll of hardened steel.

This plan answered its purpose fully at that time. It has, {422}

however, been superseded within the last few years. I had, through the

kindness of the late Governor of the Bank of England, an opportunity

of examining their most recent improvement. The discovery of the

process of making fac-similes of a wood engraving, by means of the

electro-chemical deposit of copper, has now enabled the Bank to return

to the more rapid process of surface printing.

It is probable, from the great progress of the mechanical arts, that

these periods for revising methods of preventing forgery will occur at

more frequent intervals.

I derived great pleasure from being permitted, as an amateur, to

join in this interesting inquiry with my professional friends, whose

knowledge and character I highly valued.

Subsequently I received the unexpected gratification of a vote of

thanks from the Governor and Company of the Bank of England—an honour

usually reserved for warriors and statesmen.

_An Émeute._

On one of my visits to Paris I had the pleasure of dining at the Bank

of France. During dinner, in the midst of an interesting conversation,

the Chairman received a note: having glanced over it he put it down by

his side on the table.

On the occurrence of a pause in the conversation, thinking the note

might possibly require an immediate reply, I inquired whether such was

the case. “No,” said my host, “it is of no consequence. It is only an

émeute;” which he then informed me was occurring in a distant part of

Paris.

_Letters of Credit._

Letters of credit are specially addressed to certain bankers at various

places with whom your own banker is in correspondence. {423}

〈THE AUTHOR IN WANT OF CASH.〉

It has on several occasions happened to me to want cash either for

myself or to accommodate some friend at places where my own letters

were not addressed to any firm. At Frankfort I made a purchase of

books. I had a certain amount of the usual circular letters, but as

these were payable in a great many cities, and as I proposed visiting

Egypt, I did not wish to part with them. I therefore went to the

house of Rothschild, hoping to get an advance on my letter of credit,

although it was not addressed to that firm. But it being Saturday,

no business was done. I therefore inquired for another banker of

reputation, and was directed to M. Koch.

I accordingly called at his counting-house, stated my reason for

wanting the money, showed him my circular notes and letters of credit,

and asked whether, under these circumstances, he would cash my check

for twenty pounds. He immediately remarked that he had frequently

visited England, and that most probably we had several common friends,

as it soon appeared, for the first person he mentioned was Professor

Sedgwick.

M. Koch not only advanced me the money, but he was so kind as to invite

me to dinner on the following day, and to give me a seat in his box

at the opera on the first appearance of Madamoiselle Sontag on the

Frankfort stage.

I remember at least three other occasions in which I got money for

some of my English friends at towns where my letter of credit was not

addressed to any banker. In those cases I only asked them to take my

cheque, send it to London, and when they had received the amount, to

pay it over to me. I also mentioned that I was known to several persons

resident in Geneva and in Berlin where these occurrences happened.

In each case the banker immediately let me have the money my friends

wanted. {424}

〈DIFFICULTY OF GETTING CASH, HANDSOMELY REMOVED.〉

The only instance in which I was refused amused me very much. I spent

a few weeks at Modena, where I had purchased a microscope and several

other philosophical instruments. One morning I went to the wealthy firm

of Sanguinetti, and mentioning my object to one of the partners, at

the same time showing him my letter of credit, asked if, under these

circumstances, he would give me cash for a draft of twenty pounds on my

banker in London. He replied very courteously that it was the rule of

their house to give credit only upon letters addressed to them by their

_own_ correspondent in London. I remarked that it was quite necessary

in matters of business to adhere to fixed rules, and that when made

aware of their practice I should be the last person to ask them to

deviate from it.

Early the next morning a carriage drove up to the door of my lodgings

and an elderly gentleman was announced. This was M. Sanguinetti, the

senior partner of the firm. He told me he came to apologize for the

refusal of his junior partner on the preceding day, and to offer to

give me cash for my cheque to whatever amount I might require.

I replied that, a near relative of my own having formerly been a banker

in London, I was aware of the necessity of a rigid observance of rules

of business, and that his young partner had not only done his duty,

but, I added, that he had done it in the most courteous manner. M.

Sanguinetti was so obliging and so pressing, that I found it difficult

to accept the advance of so small a sum: however, it was all arranged,

and he left me.

I then sent for my landlord and inquired whether he had had any

communication with M. Sanguinetti. He replied that the old gentleman,

the head of the firm, had called the preceding evening, and asked

him who I was. “And what,” {425} said I to my landlord, “was your

answer?”—“I told him you were a Milord Anglais,” replied my host.—“I

am not a Milord Anglais,” I observed; “but why did you tell him

so?”—“Because,” said my landlord, “when the minister paid you a visit,

you sat down in his presence.”

The explanation of the affair was this. Soon after my arrival at

Modena, I called on the Marquis Rangoni, a distinguished mathematician,

who had written a profound comment on Laplace’s ‘Théorie des Fonctions

Génératrices.’ I had not brought any letter of introduction, but had

merely sent up my card. The Marquis Rangoni received me very cordially,

and we were soon in deep discussion respecting some of the most

abstract questions of analysis. He returned my visit on the following

day, when he resumed the discussion, and I showed him some papers

connected with the subject. I was aware of the title of the Marquis

Rangoni to respect, as arising from his own profound acquaintance with

analysis, but I was now, for the first time, informed that he was a man

of great importance in the little Dukedom of Modena, for he was the

Prime Minister of the Grand Duke—in fact, the Palmerston of Modena.

This at once explained the attention I received from the wealthy banker.

_The Speaker._

One Saturday morning an American gentleman who had just arrived from

Liverpool, where he had landed from the United States on the previous

day, called in Dorset Street. He was very anxious to see the Difference

Engine, and quite fitted by his previous studies for understanding

it well. I took him into the drawing-room in which the machine then

resided and gave him a short explanation of its structure. As I

expected a large party of my friends in the evening, {426} amongst

whom were a few men of science, I asked him to join the party.

〈A CONTRAST—ENGLAND—AMERICA.〉

It so happened on that day that the Speaker had a small dinner-party.

The Silver Lady was accidentally mentioned, and greatly excited the

curiosity of the lady of the house. As the whole of this small party,

comprising three or four of my most intimate friends, were coming to

my house in the evening, they proposed that the Speaker and his wife

should accompany them to my party, assuring them truly that I should be

much gratified by the visit.

The Silver Lady happened to be in brilliant attire, and after

mentioning the romance of my boyish passion, the unexpected success

of her acquisition, and the devoted cultivation I bestowed upon her

education, I proceeded to set in action her fascinating and most

graceful movements.

A gay but by no means unintellectual crowd surrounded the automaton.

In the adjacent room the Difference Engine stood nearly deserted:

two foreigners alone worshipped at that altar. One of them, but just

landed from the United States, was engaged in explaining to a learned

professor from Holland what he had himself in the morning gathered from

its constructor.

Leaning against the doorway, I was myself contemplating the strongly

contrasted scene, pleased that my friends were relaxing from their

graver pursuits, and admiring the really graceful movements produced

by mechanism; but still more highly gratified at observing the deep

and almost painful attention of my Dutch guest, who was questioning

his American instructor about the mechanical means I had devised for

accomplishing some arithmetical object. The deep thought with which

this explanation was attended to, {427} suddenly flashed into intense

delight when the simple means of its accomplishment were made apparent.

My acute and valued friend, the late Lord Langdale, who had been

observing the varying changes of my own countenance, as it glanced

from one room to the other, now asked me, “What new mischief are you

meditating?”—“Look,” said I, “in that further room—England. Look again

at this—two Foreigners.”

_Ancient Music._

Many years ago some friends of mine invited me to accompany them to the

concert of ancient music, and join their supper-party after it was over.

My love of music is not great, but for the pleasure of the society I

accepted the invitation. On our meeting at the supper-table, I was

overwhelmed with congratulations upon my exquisite appreciation of

the treat we had just had. I was assured that though my expression

of feeling was of the quietest order, yet that I was the earliest to

approve all the most beautiful passages.

I accepted modestly my easily-won laurels, and perhaps my taste for

music might have survived in the memory of my friends, when my taste

for mechanism had been forgotten. I will, however, confide to the

public the secret of my success. Soon after I had taken my seat at the

concert, I perceived Lady Essex at a short distance from me. Knowing

well her exquisitely sensitive taste, I readily perceived by the

expression of her countenance, as well as by the slight and almost

involuntary movement of the hand, or even of a finger, those passages

which gave her most delight. These quiet indications, unobserved by my

friends, formed the electric wire by which I directed the expressions

of my own {428} countenance and the very modest applause I thought it

prudent to develop.

After receiving the congratulations of my friends upon my great musical

taste, I informed them how easily that reputation had been acquired.

Such are the feeble bases on which many a public character rests.

* * * * *

During my residence with my Oxford tutor, whilst I was working by

myself on mathematics, I occasionally arrived at conclusions which

appeared to me to be new, but which from time to time I afterwards

found were already well known. At first I was much discouraged by

these disappointments, and drew from such occurrences the inference

that it was hopeless for me to attempt to invent anything new. After

a time I saw the fallacy of my reasoning, and then inferred that when

my knowledge became much more extended I might reasonably hope to make

some small additions to my favourite science.

〈PHILOSOPHY OF INVENTION.〉

This idea considerably influenced my course during my residence at

Cambridge by directing my reading to the original papers of the great

discoverers in mathematical science. I then endeavoured to trace the

course of their minds in passing from the known to the unknown, and to

observe whether various artifices could not be connected together by

some general law. The writings of Euler were eminently instructive for

this purpose. At the period of my leaving Cambridge I began to see more

distinctly the object of my future pursuit.

It appeared to me that the highest exercise of human faculties

consisted in the endeavour to discover those laws of thought by

which man passes from the known to that which {429} was unknown. It

might with propriety be called the philosophy of invention. During

the early part of my residence in London, I commenced several essays

on Induction, Generalization, Analogy, with various illustrations

from different sources. The philosophy of signs always occupied my

attention, and to whatever subject I applied myself I was ever on the

watch to perceive and record the links by which the new was connected

with the known.

〈EARLY ESSAYS.〉

Most of the early essays I refer to were not sufficiently matured for

publication, and several have appeared without any direct reference

to the great object of my life. I may, however, point out one of my

earlier papers in the “Philosophical Transactions for 1817,” which,

whilst it made considerable additions to a new branch of science, is

itself a very striking instance of the use of analogy for the purpose

of invention. I refer to the “Essay on the Analogy between the Calculus

of Functions and other Branches of Analysis.”—_Phil. Trans._ 1817.

{430}

CHAPTER XXXIII.

THE AUTHOR’S CONTRIBUTIONS TO HUMAN KNOWLEDGE.

Scientific Societies — Analytical Society — Astronomical Society —

Grand Duke of Tuscany, Leopold II. — Scientific Meeting at Florence

— Also at Berlin — At Edinburgh — At Cambridge — Origin of the

Statistical Society — Statistical Congress at Brussels — Calculus

of Functions — Division of Labour — Verification part of Cost —

Principles of Taxation — Extension to Elections — The two Pumps —

Monopoly — Miracles.

_Of the part taken by the Author in the formation of various Scientific

Societies._

The origin of the Analytical Society has been already explained in the

fourth chapter. In the year 1820 the Author of this volume, joining

with several eminent men attached to astronomical pursuits, instituted

the Royal Astronomical Society. At the present time only three of

the original founders survive. The meetings, and still more the

publications of that society, have contributed largely to extend the

taste for astronomy.

In 1827 I visited Italy, and during my residence at Florence had many

opportunities of observing the strong feeling of the reigning Grand

Duke Leopold II., not only for the fine arts, but for the progress of

science, and for its application to the advancement of the arts of life.

〈THE GRAND DUKE OF TUSCANY.〉

After a long tour in Italy, I found myself in the following year again

in Florence, and again I was received with a kindness and consideration

which I can never forget. The Grand {431} Duke was anxious to know my

opinion respecting the state of science in Italy. At one of the many

interviews with which I was honoured, he asked me whether I could point

out any way in which he could assist its progress.

The question was unexpected; but it immediately recalled to me a recent

circumstance, which I then mentioned, namely, that in three of the

great cities of Italy I had been consulted confidentially by three

distinguished men of science upon the same subject, on which each was

separately engaged without being aware of the fact that the other

two were employed on the same inquiry. The result, I remarked, would

probably be that Italy would thus make _one_ step in science, and that

the discovery might probably be accompanied by painful discussions

respecting priority; whilst with better means of intercommunication

amongst its men of science Italy might have made _three_ steps in

advance. The idea of a periodical meeting of men engaged in scientific

pursuits naturally arose out of these remarks. At parting, the Grand

Duke requested me to draw up a minute of the conversation. I therefore

drew up a note on the subject, in which I shadowed out an annual

meeting of learned men in the various cities of Italy.

On finally taking leave, previous to my visit to Germany, the Grand

Duke assured me that he had read the minute of our conversation with

much attention, that he saw the evils pointed out, and agreed with me

as to the remedy. He then observed that “the time for such a meeting

had not yet arrived; but,” added the Grand Duke, “when it does arrive,

you may depend upon me.”

Eleven years after, in 1839, I was honoured by an invitation from the

Grand Duke of Tuscany to meet the men of science of Italy, then about

to assemble at Florence. In this communication it was observed, that

“the time had _now_ arrived.” {432}

In the autumn of 1828 I reached Berlin, and unexpectedly found, from M.

Humboldt, that in the course of a few weeks the philosophers of Germany

were to hold a meeting in that capital.

I then learnt for the first time that, some years before, Dr. Oken

had proposed and organized an annual congress of German naturalists,

meeting in each succeeding year in some great town.

I remained to witness the enlarged meeting at Berlin, which was

very successful, and wrote an account of it to Sir D. Brewster,

who published the description of it in “The Edinburgh Journal of

Science.”[58] This was, I believe, the first communication to the

English public of the existence of the German Society.

〈BRITISH ASSOCIATION: ITS ORIGIN.〉

A few years after, Sir David Brewster, Sir John Robison, Secretary of

the Royal Society of Edinburgh, and the Rev. William Vernon Harcourt,

undertook the foundation of a similar periodical and itinerant society

in our own country.

It appeared to me that the original organization of the British

Association, as developed at York and at Oxford, was defective,—that

its basis was not sufficiently extended. In fact, that other sciences

besides the physical were wanting for the harmony and success of the

whole. There was no section to interest the landed proprietors or

those members of their families who sat in either house of parliament.

Nor was there much to attract the manufacturer or the retail dealer.

A purely accidental circumstance enabled me to remedy one of these

defects.[59] {433}

[58] Vol. x., p. 225. 1829.

[59] I afterwards succeeded in getting the British Association

to adopt the plan of having an exhibition of specimens of the

various manufactures and commercial products of the districts it

successively visited. This commenced at Newcastle in 1838, and

was carried to a much greater extent in the following year at

Birmingham. I am not aware that this fact was ever referred to by

those who got up the Exhibition of 1851.

〈THE STATISTICAL SOCIETY: ITS ORIGIN.〉

At the Third Meeting of the British Association at Cambridge in 1833, I

happened, one afternoon, to call on my old and valued friend the Rev.

Richard Jones, Professor of Political Economy at Haileybury, who was

then residing in apartments at Trinity College. He informed me that he

had just had a long conversation with our mutual friend M. Quételet,

who had been sent officially by the Belgian Government to attend the

meeting of the British Association. That M. Quételet had brought with

him a budget of statistical facts, and that as there was no place for

it in any section, he (Professor Jones) had asked M. Quételet to come

to him that evening, and had invited Sir Charles Lemon, Professor

Malthus, Mr. Drinkwater (afterwards Mr. Bethune),[60] and one or

two others interested in the subject, to meet him, at the same time

requesting me to join the party. I gladly accepted this invitation

and departed. I had not, however, reached the gate of Trinity College

before it occurred to me that there was now an opportunity of doing

good service to the British Association. I returned to the apartments

of my friend, explained to him my views, in which he fully coincided,

and I suggested the formation of a Statistical Section. We both agreed

that unless some _unusual_ course were taken, it would be impossible to

get such a Section organized until the meeting in the following year. I

therefore proposed that when we met in the evening we should consider

the question of constituting ourselves provisionally a Statistical

Section, and afterwards, at the general meeting in the Senate House,

that I should explain the circumstance which had arisen, and the {434}

great advantage to the British Association of rendering such a Section

a permanent branch of its institution. After further explanations its

utility was fully admitted; certain rather stringent rules were laid

down in order to confine its inquiries to collections of facts. The

sanction of the General Meeting was then given to the establishment of

the Statistical Section, and before the termination of the Congress, a

larger audience was collected in its meeting-room than in those of any

of its sister sciences.

[60] I have reason to believe, from the Note Book of Mr.

Drinkwater (Bethune), that this meeting was held on Wednesday,

26th June, 1833.

The interest of our discussions, and the mass of materials which now

began to open upon our view, naturally indicated the necessity of

forming a more permanent society for their collection. The British

Association approved of the appointment of a permanent committee of

this section. I was requested to act as chairman, and Mr. Drinkwater as

secretary. On the 15th March, 1834, at a public meeting held in London,

the Marquis of Lansdowne in the Chair, it was resolved to establish the

Statistical Society of London.

The Committee of the British Association, in reporting this fact to

the Council, observe that “though the want of such a society has been

long felt and acknowledged, the successful establishment of it, after

every previous attempt had failed, has been due altogether to the

impulse given by the last meeting of the Association. The distinguished

foreigner (M. Quételet) who contributed so materially to the formation

of the Statistical Section, was attracted to England principally with

a view of attending that meeting; and the Committee hail this as a

signal instance of the beneficial results to be expected from that

personal intercourse among the enlightened men of all countries, which

it is a principal object of the British Association to encourage and

facilitate.”

M. Quételet, on his return to his own country, continued to {435}

direct by his counsel, and to advance, by his own indefatigable

industry, those statistical inquiries of which the Belgian Government

so well appreciated the advantage.

At length the conviction of the importance of the value of Statistical

Science becoming widely extended in other countries, M. Quételet saw

that a fit time had arrived for summoning a European Congress. The

results of such meetings are invaluable to all sciences, but more

peculiarly to statistics, in which names have to be defined, signs

to be invented, methods of observation to be compared and rendered

uniform; thus enhancing the value of all future observations by making

them more comparable as well as more expeditiously collected.

The proposal was adopted by the Belgian Government, and the first

International Statistical Congress was held at Brussels in September,

1853.

The result was most successful; all the cultivators of Statistical

Science are deeply indebted to M. Quételet for the unwearied pains he

took to insure its success. He was assisted in this arduous task by the

ministers of the crown, and supported by the high approbation of an

enlightened sovereign.

_Calculus of Functions._

This was my earliest step, and is still one to which I would willingly

recur if other demands on my time permitted. Many years ago I

recorded, in a small MS. volume, the facts, and also extracts of

letters from Herschel, Bromhead, and Maule, in which I believe I have

done justice to my friends if not to myself. It is very remarkable

that the Analytical Engine adapts itself with singular facility to

the development and numerical working out of this vast department of

analysis.

In the list of my printed papers, at the end of this volume, will be

found my various contributions to that subject. {436}

POLITICAL ECONOMY.

My contributions to _Political Economy_ are chiefly to be found in “The

Economy of Machinery and Manufactures,” which consists of illustrations

and developments of the principles regulating a very large section of

that important subject.

_Division of Labour._

It is singular that in the analysis of the _division of labour_, given

by Adam Smith in “The Wealth of Nations,” the most efficient cause of

its advantage is entirely omitted. The three causes assigned in that

work are—

1st. The increase of dexterity in every particular workman.

2nd. The saving of time lost in passing from one species of work to

another.

3rd. The invention of a great number of machines which facilitate and

abridge labour, and enable one man to do the work of many.

These are undoubtedly true causes, but the most important cause is

entirely omitted.

The most effective cause of the cheapness produced by the division of

labour is this—

By dividing the work to be executed into different processes, each

requiring different degrees of skill, or of force, the master

manufacturer can purchase exactly that precise quantity of both which

is necessary for each process. Whereas if the whole work were executed

by one workman, that person must possess sufficient skill to perform

the most difficult, and sufficient strength to execute the most

laborious, of those operations into which the art is divided.

Needle-making is perhaps the best illustration of the overpowering

effect of this cause. The operatives in this {437} manufacture consist

of children, women, and men, earning wages varying from three or four

shillings up to five pounds per week. Those who point the needles

gain about two pounds. The man who hardens and tempers the needles

earns from five to six pounds per week. It ought also to be observed

that one man is sufficient to temper the needles for a large factory;

consequently the time spent on each needle by the most expensive

operative is excessively small.

But if a manufacturer insist on employing one man to make the whole

needle, he must pay at the rate of five pounds a week for every portion

of the labour bestowed upon it.[61]

[61] See “Economy of Manufactures.”

_Cost of any Article._

Besides the usual elements which contribute to constitute the price

of any thing, there exists another which varies greatly in different

articles. It is this—

_The cost and difficulty of verifying the fact that the article is

exactly what it professes to be._

This is in some cases very small; but in many instances it is scarcely

possible for the purchaser to verify the genuineness of certain

articles. In these cases the public pay a larger price than they

otherwise would do to those tradesmen whose character and integrity are

well established.

_Principles of Taxation._

In a pamphlet printed in 1848, I published my views of taxation,

especially with reference to an Income Tax.

The principle there supported was entertained and examined by the

French Minister of Finance, M. Passy. The pamphlet itself was

subsequently translated into Italian and published at Turin, under the

auspices of the Sardinian Finance Minister. {438}

〈THE PRINCIPLE OF REPRESENTATION.〉

The principle there maintained admits, I think, of an extension to the

election of representatives.

In that case, each person would have one vote on the ground of his

personality, and other votes in proportion to his income. Whenever any

further extension of our representative system becomes necessary, the

dangers arising from the extension of the personal suffrage may fairly

be counterbalanced by giving a plurality of votes to property. Such

a course would have a powerful tendency to good, by supporting the

national credit and by preventing the destructive waste of capital by

war, and it might even make us a highly conservative people.

As the subject of political economy will be considered rather dry by

most readers, I will endeavour to enliven it by an extract from that

pamphlet, which singularly illustrates the question of direct and

indirect taxation. I had mentioned the productive pump of my Italian

friend to the late Lord Lansdowne, who supplied me with the counterpart

in the unproductive pump erected by the late William Edgeworth, at

Edgeworth Town, in Ireland.

That proprietor, whose country residence was much frequented by

beggars, resolved to establish a test for discriminating between the

idle and the industrious, and also to obtain some small return for the

alms he was in the habit of bestowing. He accordingly added to the

pump by which the upper part of his house was supplied with water, a

piece of mechanism so contrived that, at the end of a certain number

of strokes of the pump-handle, a penny fell out from an aperture to

repay the labourer for his work. This was so arranged, that labourers

who continued at the work, obtained very nearly the usual daily wages

of labour in that part of the country. The idlest of the vagabonds

of course refused this new labour test: but the greater part of the

beggars, whose {439} constant tale was that ‘_they could not earn a

fair day’s wages for a fair days work_,’ after earning a few pence,

usually went away _cursing_ the hardness of their taskmaster.

〈STORY OF THE TWO PUMPS.〉

An Italian gentleman, with greater sagacity, devised a more productive

pump, and kept it in action at far less expense. The garden wall

of his villa adjoined the great high road leading from one of the

capitals of northern Italy[62], from which it was distant but a few

miles. Possessing within his garden a fine spring of water, he erected

on the outside of the wall a pump for public use, and chaining to it

a small iron ladle, he placed near it some rude seats for the weary

traveller, and by a slight roof of climbing plants protected the whole

from the mid-day sun. In this delightful shade the tired and thirsty

travellers on that well-beaten road ever and anon reposed and refreshed

themselves, and did not fail to put in requisition the service of the

pump so opportunely presented to them. From morning till night many

a dusty and wayworn pilgrim plied the handle, and went on his way,

_blessing_ the liberal proprietor for his kind consideration of the

passing stranger.

[62] Turin.

But the owner of the villa was deeply acquainted with human nature. He

knew in that sultry climate that the liquid would be more valued from

its scarcity, and from the difficulty of acquiring it. He therefore,

to enhance the value of the gift, wisely arranged the pump, so that

its spout was of rather contracted dimensions, and the handle required

a moderate application of force to work it. Under these circumstances

the pump raised far more water than could pass through its spout; and,

to prevent its being wasted, the surplus was conveyed by an invisible

channel to a large reservoir judiciously placed for watering the

proprietor’s own house, stables, and garden,—into which about five

pints were poured for every spoonful passing out of the spout for the

{440} benefit of the weary traveller. Even this latter portion was

not entirely neglected, for the waste-pipe conveyed the part which

ran over from the ladle to some delicious strawberry beds at a lower

level. Perhaps, by a small addition to this ingenious arrangement, some

kind-hearted travellers might be enabled to indulge their mules and

asses with a taste of the same cool and refreshing fluid; thus paying

an additional tribute to the skill and sagacity of the benevolent

proprietor. My accomplished friend would doubtless make a most popular

Chancellor of the Exchequer, should his Sardinian Majesty require his

services in that department of administration.

_Monopoly._

In the course of my examination of this question I arrived at what I

conceive to be a demonstration of the following principle:—

_That even under circumstances of the most absolute monopoly, the

monopolist will, if he_ KNOWS _his own interest and_ PURSUES _it,

sell the article he produces at exactly the same price as the freest

competition would produce_.

I devoted a chapter to this subject in an edition which I prepared

several years ago for a new Italian translation of the “Economy of

Manufactures;” but I am not aware whether it has yet been published.

_Miracles._

The explanation which I gave of the nature of miracles in “The Ninth

Bridgewater Treatise,” published in May, 1837, has now stood the test

of more than a quarter of a century, during which it has been examined

by some of the deepest thinkers in many countries. Its adoption by

those writers who have referred to it has, as far as my information

goes, been unanimous.

{441}

CHAPTER XXXIV.

THE AUTHOR’S FURTHER CONTRIBUTIONS TO HUMAN KNOWLEDGE.

Glaciers — Uniform Postage — Weight of the Bristol Bags — Parcel

Post — Plan for transmitting Letters along Aërial Wires — Cost

of Verification is part of Price — Sir Rowland Hill — Submarine

Navigation — Difference Engine — Analytical Engine — Cause of Magnetic

and Electric Rotations — Mechanical Notation — Occulting Lights —

Semi-occultation may determine Distances — Distinction of Lighthouses

numerically — Application from the United States — Proposed Voyage —

Loss of the Ship and Mr. Reid — Congress of Naval Officers at Brussels

in 1853 — My Portable Occulting Light exhibited — Night Signals —

Sun Signals — Solar Occulting Lights — Afterwards used at Sebastopol

— Numerical Signals applicable to all Dictionaries — Zenith Light

Signals — Telegraph for Ships on Shore — Greenwich Time Signals —

Theory of Isothermal Surfaces to account for the Geological Facts of

the successive Uprising and Depression of various parts of the Earth’s

Surface — Games of Skill — Tit-tat-to — Exhibitions — Problem of the

Three Magnetic Bodies.

_Of Glaciers._

Much has been written upon the subject of glaciers. The view which I

took of the question on my first acquaintance with them still seems to

me to afford a sufficient explanation of the phenomena. It is probable

that I may have been anticipated in it by Saussure and others; but,

having no time to inquire into its history, I shall give a very brief

statement of those views.

The greater part of the material which ultimately constitutes a glacier

arises from the rain falling and the snow deposited in the higher

portions of mountain ranges, which {442} naturally first fill up the

ravines and valleys, and rests on the tops of the mountains, covering

them to various depths.

The chief facts to be explained are—first, the causes of the descent

of these glaciers into the plains; second, the causes of the

transformation of the opaque consolidated snow at the sources of the

glacier into pure transparent ice at its termination.

The glaciers usually lying in valleys having a steep descent,

gravity must obviously have a powerful influence; but its action is

considerably increased by another cause.

The heat of the earth and that derived from the friction of the glacier

and its broken fragments against the rock on which it rests, as well as

from the friction of its own fragments, slowly melts the ice, and thus

diminishing the amount of its support, the ice above cracks and falls

down upon the earth, again to be melted and again to be broken.

But as the ice is upon an inclined plane, the pressure from above,

on the upper side of the fragment, will be greater than that on the

lower; consequently, at every fall the fallen mass will descend by a

very small quantity further into the valley. Another consequence of the

melting of the lower part of the centre of the glacier will be that the

centre will advance faster than the sides, and its termination will

form a curve convex towards the valley.

The above was, I believe, the common explanation of the formation of

glaciers. The following part explains my own views:—

_Of the Causes of the Transformation of Condensed Snow into Transparent

Ice._

It is a well-known fact that water rapidly frozen retains all the air

it held in solution, and is opaque. {443}

It is also known that water freezing very slowly is transparent.

Whenever, by the melting of the lower portion of any part of a glacier,

a piece of it cracks and falls to a lower level, the friction of the

broken sides will produce heat, and melt a small portion of water.

This water, trickling down very slowly, will form a thin layer on the

broken surface, and a portion will be retained in the narrowest part

of the crack. But, since the temperature of a glacier is very near the

freezing point, that water will freeze very slowly. It will, therefore,

become transparent ice, and will, as it were, solder together the two

adjacent surfaces by a thin layer of transparent ice.

But the transparent ice is much stronger and more difficult to break

than opaque ice; consequently, the next time the soldered fragments are

again broken, they will not break in the strongest part, which is the

transparent ice: but the next fracture will occur in the opaque ice, as

it was at first.

Thus, by the continued breaking and falling downward of the fragments

of the glacier, as it proceeds down the valley, a series of vertical,

rudely-parallel veins of transparent ice will be formed. As these

masses descend the valley, fresh vertical layers of transparent ice

will be interposed between those already existing until the whole takes

that beautiful transparent cerulean tint which we so frequently see at

the lower termination of a glacier. Another effect of this vertical

fracture at the surfaces of least resistance will be alternate vertical

layers of opaque and transparent ice shading into each other. This

would, in some of its stages, give a kind of ribboned appearance to the

ice. Probably traces of it would still be exhibited even in the most

transparent ice. Speaking roughly, this ribboned structure ought to

be closer together the nearer the piece examined is to the end of the

glacier. It {444} ought also to be more apparent towards the centre

of the glacier than towards the sides. The effect of this progress

downward is to produce a very powerful friction between the masses of

ice and the earth over which they are pushed, and, consequently, a

continual accession to that stream of water which is found issuing from

all glaciers.

The result of this continual breaking up is to cause all the water

melted by the friction of the blocks of ice which is not retained in

the interstices to fall towards the lowest part of the descending

valley, and thus increase the stream, and so take away more and more of

the support of the central part of the glacier. Hence the advance of

the surface of the glacier will be much quicker towards its middle than

near the sides.

〈CRACKS IN GLACIERS PERPENDICULAR.〉

The consequence of these actions is, that cracks in the ice will occur

generally in planes perpendicular to its surface. The rain which falls

upon the glacier, the water produced from its surface by the sun’s rays

and by the effect of the temperature of the atmosphere, as well as

the water produced by the friction of its descending fragments, will

penetrate through these cracks, and be retained by capillary action

on the surfaces, and still more where the distance of the adjacent

surfaces is very small. The rest of this unfrozen water will reach the

rocky bottom of the glacier, and give up some of its heat to the bed

over which it passes, to be again employed in melting away the lowest

support of the glacier ice. Although the temperature of the glacier

should differ but by a very small quantity from that of the freezing

point of water, yet these films will only freeze the more slowly, and

therefore become more solid and transparent ice. Their very thinness

will enable all the air to be more readily extricated by freezing.

The question of the _regelation_ of pounded ice, if by that {445} term

is meant anything more than welding ice by heat, or of joining its

parts by a process analogous to that which is called _burning together_

two separate portions of a bronze statue, has always appeared to me

unsatisfactory.

〈BURNING TOGETHER BRONZE.〉

The process of “burning together” is as follows:—Two portions of a

large statue, which have been cast separately, are placed in a trough

of sand, with their corresponding ends near to each other. A channel

is made in the sand, leading through the junction of the parts to be

united.

A stream of melted bronze is now allowed to run out from the furnace

through the channel between the contiguous ends which it is proposed

to unite. The first effect of this is to heat the ends of the two

fragments. After the stream of melted metal has continued some time, the

ends of those fragments themselves begin to melt. When a small quantity

of each end is completely melted, the further flow of the melted metal

is stopped, and as soon as the pool of melted metal connects, the two

ends of the pieces to be united begins to consolidate: the whole is

covered up with sand and allowed to cool gradually. When cold, the

unnecessary metal is cut away, and the fragments are as perfectly

united as if they had been originally cast in one piece.

The sudden consolidation, by physical force, of pounded ice or snow

appears to me to arise from the first effect of the pressure producing

heat, which melts a small portion into water, and brings the particles

of ice or snow nearer to each other. The portion of water thus produced

then, having its heat abstracted by the ice, connects the particles of

the latter more firmly together by freezing.

If two flat surfaces of clear ice had a heated plate of metal put

between them, two very thin layers of water would be formed between

the ice and the heated plate. If the hot {446} plate were suddenly

withdrawn, and the two plates of ice pressed together, they would then

be frozen together. This would be equivalent to welding. In all these

cases the temperature of the ice must be a very little lower than the

freezing-point. The more nearly it approached that point the slower the

process of freezing would be, and therefore the more transparent the

ice thus formed.

〈ICE FROZEN IN THE EXHIBITION, 1862.〉

In the Exhibition of 1862 there were two different processes by which

ice was produced in abundance, even in the heat of the Machinery Annex,

in which they were placed.

In both the water was quickly converted into ice, and in both cases the

ice was opaque.

In one of them the ice was produced in the shape of long hollow

cylinders. These were quite opaque, and were piled up in stacks. The

temperature of the place caused the ice to melt slowly; consequently,

the interstices where the cylinders rested upon each other, received

and retained a small portion of the water, which, trickling down, was

detained by capillary attraction. Here it was very slowly frozen, and

formed at the junction of the cylinders a thin film of transparent ice.

This gradually increased as the upper cylinders of the ice melted away,

and, after several hours’ exposure, I have seen clear transparent ice

a quarter of an inch thick, where, at the commencement, there had not

been even a trace of translucency.