Part II., pp. 14, 15.

[188] "A few phrases of Aristotle," says Dr. Brown, (Works I. p. 341,)

"are perhaps even at this moment exercising no small sway on the very

minds which smile at them with scorn." Mr. Carlyle asks, "Do not Books

still accomplish _miracles_, as _Runes_ were fabled to do?... Consider

whether any Rune, in the wildest imagination of Mythologist, ever did

such wonders as, on the actual firm Earth, some Books have done."

_Heroes_, p. 252.

[189] No writer has ever dwelt more on this truth than Coleridge, and

no writer ever had a stronger reason for dwelling upon it. Perhaps the

ordinary public has seldom been more unjust than in its estimate of

Coleridge's addiction to opium. The occasion of his first use of it

was a venial error, his servitude was heavy, and the account of his

sufferings and struggles most deeply affecting. Then, his final victory

(respecting which so little is generally said) was a very noble moral

achievement.

[ao] Men have aimed at accomplishing their purpose partly by training

animals, and partly by breeding through select specimens of each race.

The two principles thus relied on are habit and heredity. Respecting

the latter of these a note of considerable length had been intended in

this place. But the reader interested in the general question can learn

sufficient details in Dr. Carpenter's _Mental Physiology_ together with

the authorities therein referred to by him.

The following instances adduced by Mr. Wallace to show how improvement

through heredity is visibly limited are very remarkable. "In the matter

of speed, a limit of a definite kind as regards land animals does exist

in nature. All the swiftest animals--deer, antelopes, hares, foxes,

lions, leopards, horses, zebras, and many others--have reached very

nearly the same degree of speed. Although the swiftest of each must

have been for ages preserved, and the slowest must have perished, we

have no reason to believe there is any advance of speed. The possible

limit under existing conditions, and perhaps under possible terrestrial

conditions, has been long ago reached." He immediately proceeds to

place in contrast with these, some examples where progress is not thus

barred. "In cases, however, where this limit had not been so nearly

reached as in the horse, we have been enabled to make a more marked

advance and to produce a greater difference of form. The wild dog is an

animal that hunts much in company, and trusts more to endurance than to

speed. Man has produced the greyhound, which differs much more from the

wolf or the dingo than the racer does from the wild Arabian. Domestic

dogs, again, have varied more in size and in form than the whole family

of Canidæ in a state of Nature. No wild dog, fox, or wolf, is either

so small as some of the smallest terriers and spaniels, or so large as

the largest varieties of hound or Newfoundland dog. And, certainly, no

two wild animals of the family differ so widely in form and proportions

as the Chinese pug and the Italian greyhound, or the bulldog and the

common greyhound. The known range of variation is, therefore, more than

enough for the derivation of all the forms of Dogs, Wolves, and Foxes

from a common ancestor." Wallace. _Natural Selection_, pp. 292, 3.

Dr. Prichard's accounts of similar variations in his _Natural History

of Man_ and other ethnological works are particularly interesting.

Habit is a topic more germane to the subject of self-training, and is

therefore examined at some length in our text.

It seems natural that the empire of both Habit and Heredity should

be strongest over the purely automatous, and the instinctive or

semi-instinctive actions of mankind. Witness the effect of Caste

institutions, Guilds, and family vocations. Regular occupation struck a

certain visitor to this world as producing a like result:--

"Nimbly," quoth he, "do the fingers move

If a man be but used to his trade."

[ap] "They that deny a God destroy man's nobility; for certainly man

is of kin to the beast by his body; and, if he be not of kin to God by

his spirit, he is a base and ignoble creature. It destroys likewise

magnanimity, and the raising of human nature; for take an example of

a dog, and mark what a generosity and courage he will put on when he

finds himself maintained by a man, who to him is instead of a God, or

'melior natura'; which courage is manifestly such as that creature,

without that confidence of a better nature than his own, could never

attain. So man, when he resteth and assureth himself upon divine

protection and favour, gathereth a force and faith, which human nature

in itself could not obtain'; therefore, as atheism is in all respects

hateful, so in this, that it depriveth human nature of the means to

exalt itself above human frailty." Bacon. _Essay on Atheism_, p. 56.

"What joy to watch in lower creature

Such dawning of a moral nature,

And how (the rule all things obey)

They look to a higher mind to be their law and stay!"

_Remains_ of A. H. Hallam, privately printed.

[aq] The difference between brute and Man appeared so vast to Bacon

that, following Telesius in this as in some other respects, he adopted

as a doctrine the duality of the human soul. He maintains it at length

in the _De Augmentis_ iv. 3, a chapter which begins thus:--"Let us

now proceed to the doctrine which concerns the Human Soul, from the

treasures whereof all other doctrines are derived. The parts thereof

are two; the one treats of the rational soul, which is divine; the

other of the irrational, which is common with brutes.... Now this soul

(as it exists in man) is only the instrument of the rational soul, and

has its origin like that of the brutes in the dust of the earth....

For there are many and great excellencies of the human soul above the

souls of brutes, manifest even to those who philosophise according to

the sense. Now wherever the mark of so many and great excellencies is

found, there also a specific difference ought to be constituted; and

therefore I do not much like the confused and promiscuous manner in

which philosophers have handled the functions of the soul; as if the

human soul differed from the spirit of brutes in degree rather than in

kind; as the sun differs from the stars, or gold from metals."

[190] We have it on Coleridge's authority that "Lord Erskine, speaking

of animals, hesitating to call them brutes, hit upon that happy

phrase--'the mute creation.'" Would this were true! exclaims some

invalid, nervously agonized by cats and dogs, cocks and hens, and

listening with horror to their various cries and noises. But strictly

speaking Lord Erskine was right,--for the animal world is mute as far

as real language is concerned. Compare Max Müller on the "Bow-wow

Theory." _Lectures on Language_, Series I. Lecture ix.

[191] The Poet's thought, not more imaginative than true, should be

kept in mind when estimating the difference between gregariousness and

society. If the latter be held a development of the former, it must

have been transformed in the progress of its descent. Where affinities

are really traceable between the human and the unreasoning world, they

may perhaps be referred with greater probability to a common ancestry

than to a lineal pedigree. And the more remote the alleged origin, the

less unlikely it may appear.

[192] "Sir Humphrey Davy, when a boy, was placed under a schoolmaster

who neglected his duties, and adverting to this subject in a letter

addressed to his mother after he was settled in London, he says, 'I

consider it as fortunate that I was left much to myself as a child, and

put on no particular plan of study, and that I enjoyed much idleness

at Mr. Coryton's school. I, perhaps, owe to these circumstances the

little talents I have, and their peculiar application. What I am I made

myself. I say this without vanity, and in pure simplicity of heart.'"

Brodie's _Psychological Inquiries_, I. 29.

"The regular course of studies, the years of academical and

professional education, have not yielded me better facts than some

idle books under the bench at the Latin School. What we do not call

education is more precious than that which we call so. We form no

guess, at the time of receiving a thought, of its comparative value.

And education often wastes its efforts in attempts to thwart and balk

this natural magnetism, which is sure to select what belongs to it."

Emerson. _Spiritual Laws._

[ar] "We can command Nature only by obeying her; nor can Art avail

anything except as Nature's handmaiden. We can affect the conditions

under which Nature works; but things artificial as well as things

natural are in reality produced Not by Art but Nature. Our power is

merely based upon our knowledge of the procedure which Nature follows.

She is never really thwarted or controlled by our operations, though

she may be induced to depart from her usual course, and under new and

artificial conditions to produce new phenomena and new substances.

"Natural philosophy, considered from this point of view, is therefore

only an answer to the question, How does Nature work in the production

of phenomena?" R. L. Ellis. _Preface to Bacon's Philosophical Works_,

Vol. I. p. 59.

[as] "The philosopher, not less than the poet, postpones the

apparent order and relations of things to the empire of thought.

'The problem of philosophy,' according to Plato, 'is, for all that

exists conditionally, to find a ground unconditioned and absolute.' It

proceeds on the faith that a law determines all phenomena, which being

known, the phenomena can be predicted. That law, when in the mind, is

an idea. Its beauty is infinite. The true philosopher and the true poet

are one, and a beauty, which is truth, and a truth, which is beauty,

is the aim of both. Is not the charm of one of Plato's or Aristotle's

definitions, strictly like that of the Antigone of Sophocles? It is,

in both cases, that a spiritual life has been imparted to nature; that

the solid seeming block of matter has been pervaded and dissolved by a

thought; that this feeble human being has penetrated the vast masses of

nature with an informing soul, and recognized itself in their harmony,

that is, seized their law. In physics, when this is attained, the

memory disburthens itself of its cumbrous catalogues of particulars,

and carries centuries of observation in a single formula." Emerson.

_Idealism._

"He who studies the concrete and neglects the abstract cannot be called

an interpreter of nature. Such was Bacon's judgment." Robert Leslie

Ellis, in _Bacon's Works_, Vol. I. p. 26.

"If a man's knowledge be confined to the efficient and material causes

(which are unstable causes, and merely vehicles, or causes which

convey the form in certain cases) he may arrive at new discoveries in

reference to substances in some degree similar to one another, and

selected beforehand; but he does not touch the deeper boundaries of

things. But whosoever is acquainted with Forms, embraces the unity of

nature in substances the most unlike; and is able therefore to detect

and bring to light things never yet done, and such as neither the

vicissitudes of nature, nor industry in experimenting, nor accident

itself, would ever have brought into act, and which would never have

occurred to the thought of man. From the discovery of Forms therefore

results truth in speculation and freedom in operation."--Bacon. _Novum

Organon_, Book II. Aph. III.

[at] The problem awaiting the philosophic physicist runs as follows:--

It remains to be seen how closely and with what degree of distinctness,

science can approximate these impalpable forces governing the natural

world, to the forces we are accustomed to call immaterial, because they

become known to us by the activities of Thought and Will.

This problem--the incorporeity of Matter, or a near approach to

it--has been a favourite subject of speculation in all ages. The

curious reader may track it from the pre-and post-Christian Greeks

through Arabian and Jewish philosophies to the Schoolmen (who borrowed

from Jews unknowingly) and so transmitted it down like an heirloom

to our own later controversialists. The subject has been treated on

Metaphysical grounds, for Religious interests, or as a weapon keen

edged in demolishing antagonistic cosmologies. But it has not often

been entertained for purely scientific reasons, and as one of those

so-called "useless questions" which always turn out most prolific

seminal principles, fertile in explaining nature and throwing out

branches in numerous unforeseen directions.

It was thus however and with no side views that the illustrious Faraday

looked at this subject. With what effect may be best learned by putting

together two separate accounts of his reasoning.

In 1844, Dr. Bence Jones informs us Faraday (then in his 53rd year)

indulged in "A speculation respecting that view of the nature of matter

which considers its ultimate atoms as centres of force, and _not as so

many little bodies surrounded by forces_.... The particle, indeed, is

supposed to exist only by these forces, and where they are it is."

This speculation did in fact give a tone to that memorable season--now

thirty years ago.

Dr. Tyndall says:--"On Friday, January 19, 1844, he opened the weekly

evening meetings of the Royal Institution by a discourse entitled 'A

speculation touching Electric Conduction and the nature of Matter.' In

this discourse he not only attempts the overthrow of Dalton's Theory

of Atoms, but also the subversion of all ordinary scientific ideas

regarding the nature and relations of Matter and Force. He objected

to the use of the term atom:--'I have not yet found a mind,' he says,

'that did habitually separate it from its accompanying temptations; and

there can be no doubt that the words definite proportions, equivalent,

primes, etc., which did and do fully express all the _facts_ of what is

usually called the atomic theory in chemistry, were dismissed because

they were not expressive enough, and did not say all that was in the

mind of him who used the word atom in their stead,'" (_Faraday as a

Discoverer_, pp. 119-20.)

And again:--"With his usual courage and sincerity he pushes his view

to its utmost consequences. 'This view of the constitution of matter,'

he continues, 'would seem to involve necessarily the conclusion that

matter fills all space, or at least all space to which gravitation

extends; for gravitation is a property of matter dependent on a certain

force, and it is this force which constitutes the matter. In that view

matter is not merely mutually penetrable; but each atom extends, so to

say, throughout the whole of the solar system, yet always retaining

its own centre of force.'" Faraday "compares the interpenetration of

two atoms to the coalescence of two distinct waves, which though for

a moment blended to a single mass, preserve their individuality, and

afterwards separate." (_Ibid._ pp. 123-4 and note.)

The subject did not easily lose its hold on the philosopher's mind.

"At the Institution," writes Dr. Bence Jones, "he gave eight lectures

after Easter on the phenomena and philosophy of heat. He ended this

course thus:--'We know nothing about matter but its forces--nothing in

the creation but the effect of these forces; further our sensations

and perceptions are not fitted to carry us; all the rest, which we may

conceive we know, is only imagination.' He gave two Friday discourses:

the first on the nature of matter, the other on recent improvements in

the silvering of mirrors.

"His notes of the first lecture begin thus:--'Speculations dangerous

temptations; generally avoid them; but a time to speculate as well

as to refrain, all depends upon the temper of the mind. I was led to

consider the nature of space in relation to electric conduction, and so

of matter, _i.e._ whether _continuous_ or consisting of _particles with

intervening space_, according to its supposed constitution. Consider

this point, _remarking the assumptions everywhere_.

"'_Chemical considerations_ abundant, but almost all _assumption_.

Easy to speak of atomic proportions, multiple proportions, isomeric

and isomorphic phenomena and compound bases; and to account for

effects we have only to hang on to assumed atoms the properties or

arrangement of properties assumed to be sufficient for the purpose.

But the fundamental and main facts are expressed by the term _definite

proportion_,--the rest, including the atomic notion, is assumption.

"'The view that physical chemistry necessarily takes of atoms is now

very large and complicated; first many elementary atoms--next compound

and complicated atoms. System within system, like the starry heavens,

_may be right_--but may _be all wrong_. Thus see how little of general

theory of matter is known as fact, and how _much_ is assumption.

"'Final brooding impression, that particles are only centres of force;

that the force or forces constitute the matter; that therefore there is

no space between the particles distinct from the particles of matter;

that they touch each other just as much in gases as in liquids or

solids; and that they are materially penetrable, probably even to their

very centres. That, for instance, water is not two particles of oxygen

side by side, but two spheres of power mutually penetrated, and the

centres even coinciding.'" Bence Jones--Life of Faraday, Vol. II., pp.

177-78.

These views (best known as Boscovich's theory), though not generally

held in scientific circles, are favoured by Bacon's most able

commentator, Robert Leslie Ellis, and are pronounced by Professor

Huxley a "tenable hypothesis." Mr. Spencer poises the balance as

follows:--"Though the combining weights of the respective elements are

termed by chemists their 'equivalents,' for the purpose of avoiding

a questionable assumption, we are unable to think of the combination

of such definite weights, without supposing it to take place between

definite numbers of definite particles. And thus it would appear that

the Newtonian view is at any rate preferable to that of Boscovich. A

disciple of Boscovich, however, may reply that his master's theory is

involved in that of Newton; and cannot indeed be escaped. 'What,' he

may ask, 'is it that holds together the parts of these ultimate atoms?'

'A cohesive force,' his opponent must answer. 'And what,' he may

continue, 'is it that holds together the parts of any fragments, into

which, by sufficient force, an ultimate atom might be broken?' Again

the answer must be--a cohesive force. 'And what,' he may still ask, 'if

the ultimate atom were, as we can imagine it to be, reduced to parts as

small in proportion to it, as it is in proportion to a tangible mass

of matter--what must give each part the ability to sustain itself,

and to occupy space?' Still there is no answer but--a cohesive force.

Carry the process in thought as far as we may, until the extension of

the parts is less than can be imagined, we still cannot escape the

admission of forces by which the extension is upheld; and we can find

no limit until we arrive at the conception of centres of force without

any extension." _First Principles_, p. 54.

It is evident that Faraday was able to think in a manner which has been

often declared impossible. Mr. Spencer's statement of the counter case

is alone sufficient to prove that the inquiry is sure to be recurrent.

We may add with Dr. Tyndall that facts alone cannot satisfy the mind,

and that when a law is established, the question "why" is inevitable.

Compare _foot-note_ p. 324 _post_.

[193] A familiar instance of one among these abstract entities may

convey to some readers a clearer idea of their nature than many careful

explanations. Three balks of timber are lying in our road,--one, a

very large and heavy monster, directly across it. Desirous of driving

by, and being without adequate help to remove an obstacle beyond our

strength, we call to mind the following definition. "The lever is an

inflexible bar, capable of free motion about a fixed axis, called the

fulcrum." (Newth. _Natural Philosophy_, p. 33.) Acting upon this idea,

we place one balk we can manage to move, upon a second which happens

to lie conveniently, and so roll away the third heavy monster. This

done, we replace No. 1 peaceably beside No. 2, and wend on our way

rejoicing. Now the lever, as defined by Newth, existed ideally in our

mind, and we realised and used it. Our lever and fulcrum are still

lying on the road, though they are lever and fulcrum no longer. The

leverage was an applied mental Form, but we no longer want the Form to

be operative,--and along with it the Force has disappeared.

[au] Our knowledge of Matter and of Motion;--our knowledge of their

continuance while our forms and other forms are undergoing change;--all

we most _certainly_ know of the material world, resolves itself into

our knowledge of Force. Thus far Mr. Herbert Spencer is with us, as may

be seen from the following paragraphs from his _First Principles_. "By

the indestructibility of Matter, we really mean the indestructibility

of the _force_ with which Matter affects us. As we become conscious of

Matter only through that resistance which it opposes to our muscular

energy, so do we become conscious of the permanence of Matter only

through the permanence of this resistance; as either immediately or

mediately proved to us. And this truth is made manifest not only by

analysis of the _à posteriori_ cognition, but equally so by analysis of

the _à priori_ one. For that which we cannot conceive to be diminished

by the continued compression of Matter, is not its occupancy of space,

but its ability to resist." (p. 179.) "It remains to be pointed out

that the continuity of Motion, as well as the indestructibility of

Matter, is really known to us in terms of _force_. That a certain

manifestation of force remains for ever undiminished, is the ultimate

content of the thought; whether reached _à posteriori_ or _à priori_."

(p. 182.) And again (pp. 191-2). "What, in these two foregoing

chapters, was proved true of Matter and Motion, is, _à fortiori_, true

of the Force out of which our conceptions of Matter and Motion are

built. Indeed, as we saw, that which is indestructible in matter and

motion, is the force they present. And, as we here see, the truth that

Force is indestructible, is the obverse of the truth that the Unknown

Cause of the changes going on in consciousness is indestructible.

So that the persistence of consciousness, constitutes at once our

immediate experience of the persistence of Force, and imposes on us the

necessity we are under of asserting its persistence.... Consciousness

without this or that particular _form_ is possible; but consciousness

without _contents_ is impossible."

We are also quite at one with Mr. Herbert Spencer as regards an

assertion made in his _Principles of Psychology_ (I. 161,) and

repeated, to shew how anti-materialistic he is, in his last book.

(_Essays_, III., p. 250.) "Of the two it seems easier to translate

so-called Matter into so-called Spirit, than to translate so-called

Spirit into so-called Matter, which latter is, indeed, wholly

impossible."

But though it is true, as he adds, that "no _translation_ can carry us

beyond our symbols," it is no less true that we are impelled to inquire

into that which underlies them. Mr. Spencer says further (_Psychology_

I. 162,) "The conditioned form under which Being is presented in the

Subject, cannot, any more than the conditioned form under which Being

is presented in the Object, be the Unconditioned Being common to the

two." In this negation we are less at one with him, for, as we firmly

believe, in that conditioned sphere we call our own subjective nature

there is a Reality presented to our consciousness by every act of

Volition which brings us far nearer than any objective or outside form

of existence can bring us to that Unconditioned Being which is common

to the two, and infinitely superior to them both.

[194] Spirit of Inductive Philosophy, p. 165.

[195] Ibid. pp. 169-170. "In the confined and literal notions, often

ignorantly entertained, of the sciences of observation, our conclusions

might be supposed restricted to the field of mere sensible experience;

and in this sense we should fall short of any worthy apprehension

of the Supreme Intelligence. But the truly inductive philosopher

extends his contemplation to intellectual conceptions of a higher

class, pointing to order and uniformity as constant and universal as

the extent of nature itself in space and in time; and in the same

proportion he recognises harmony and arrangement invested with the

attributes of universality and eternity, and thus derives his loftier

ideas of the Divine perfections."

[196] See Ravaisson (_La Philosophie en France_, p. 82,) for an account

of Comte's position in this particular. He characterizes it thus: "Du

positivisme physique superficiel il est arrivé au positivisme moral."

[av] Or else as some may prefer to state it, Mind _is_ the intelligible

law. In other words, Law is the manifestation and energizing of the

Mind in Nature, and we recognize mind in the energy of Law. Canon

Mozley spoke as follows in 1872. "There is a great deal said now about

Mind in Nature, and scientific men talk enthusiastically about Mind;

the old notion of chance is obsolete, and in spite of the strength of

a materialist school, there is a tendency to a consensus of scientific

men that there is Mind in the universe. Would any one in any public

meeting of scientific men dare to stand up and _deny_ that there was

Mind in Nature? It would be thought monstrous. It would be set down as

the revival of an old stupidity. It is the only form in which they find

they can speak of nature which at all ennobles it or which satisfies

their own idea of the sublimity of nature." _The Principle of Causation

considered in opposition to Atheistic Theories_, p. 41.

The learned writer goes on to connect this admitted idea of Mind with

the collateral idea of Design. And this is a most natural sequence of

thought. But, for reasons already mentioned, the main argument of this

chapter pursues another track. Mind in Nature being directly intuited,

(to use an expressive Kantian phrase) we supplement the evidence thus

given by a cross-examination of facts for the purpose of eliciting an

account of what manner of Intelligence this Mind in Nature must be.

[aw] "It is true," says Canon Mozley, "that matter has lately been set

before us as claiming more vicinity to mind than it has been usual to

assign it; and a scientific man, of the highest genius, has regretted

that 'mind and matter have ever been presented to us in the rudest

contrast--the one as all noble, the other as all vile.'... Hobbes,

in the 17th century, anticipated this claim, and laid down 'that all

matter as matter is endued not only with figure and a capacity of

motion, but also with an actual sense and perception, and wants only

the organs and memory of animals to express its sensations,'" _On

Causation_, as before, p. 38.

The doctrine of an inferior and irrational, or as some phrase it "a

blind intelligence" is the topic next discussed with some fulness in

our text.

This "blind intelligence" makes Nature, so to speak, "the instinct of

the Universe." Thence it is "no long step" to a belief that the world

is a living creature, neither are there wanting modern accounts of

the principle of Vitality, and its powers of assimilation,--equally

applicable to the accretive growth of a crystal.

The renovators of philosophy were (as Mr. Leslie Ellis remarks)

strongly inclined to this belief, its typical teacher being Campanella.

Leibniz points out with his usual energy its affinity with the

Scholastic doctrine of "substantial forms"--(a very different

theory from Bacon's) "formas quasdam substantiales ejusmodi sibi

imaginatus videtur, quæ per se sint causa motus in corporibus,

quemadmodum Scholastici capiunt;" and proceeds to say, "ita reditur

ad tot deunculos, quot formas substantiales, et Gentilem prope

polytheismum.... Quum tamen revera in natura nulla sit sapientia,

nullus appetitus, ordo vero pulcher ex eo oriatur, quia est horologium

Dei." _Leibnitii Opera Philosophica_, Ed. Erdmann, pp. 52-3.

[197] "Easiest" is here and elsewhere used to mean that which accounts

in the most natural and perfect manner alike for a single fact and for

the complex whole of facts presented to us. Such an "easiest account"

is the law of Gravitation--it is at once the simplest and the most

complete.

[198] _Fragments of Science_, p. 88.

[199] Struck it so truly that (to borrow Mr. Huxley's expression) a

sufficient Intelligence might have predicted the Universe. But what an

infinitude of knowledge would this "sufficiency" seem to presuppose!

[ax] Taking an optical structure of the Eye as a test example, the

chances of its Evolution _per accidens_ have been calculated by an

eminent mathematician. His results may be seen in the _Additional Note_

appended to this Chapter. They are extracted from the Hulsean Lectures

for 1867.

[ay] For example:--No one holds the doctrine of Natural Selection more

firmly than Mr. Wallace;--he is, in fact, known to have anticipated the

Darwinian theory of Evolution. But he also holds that Natural Selection

cannot account for certain of the physical peculiarities of Man; much

less for his consciousness, his language, his moral sense, or his

Volition.

Mr. Wallace maintains likewise that

(1) Atoms are centres of Force.

(2) Force is known to us as Will.

(3) The Will that governs the world is the Will of higher

intelligences or of one supreme Intelligence.

He quotes, as representing his own thought, the following lines from an

American poetess:--

"God of the Granite and the Rose!

Soul of the Sparrow and the Bee!

The mighty tide of Being flows

Through countless channels, Lord, from thee.

It leaps to life in grass and flowers,

Through every grade of being runs,

While from Creation's radiant towers

Its glory flames in Stars and Suns."

To the above-mentioned points Mr. Wallace adds a spiritualistic belief

in many sublime intelligences intermediate between the Deity and the

Universe. Compare _Natural Selection_, Ed. 2. Essay X. with Notes.

[az] That the perception of fitness, even when of the most exalted

kind, does not to some thinkers carry with it a perception of Design,

is plainly manifest from the ensuing paragraph:--

"The absurdity of the _à posteriori_ argument for a God consists in

the assumption that what we call order, harmony, and adaptation are

evidence of design, when it is evident that, _whether there be a God or

not, order, harmony, and adaptation must have existed from eternity,

and are not_ _therefore necessary proof of a designing cause_."

(_American Index_, Jan. 11, 1873.)

It is to be hoped that the writer of this rather strong statement had

insight enough to perceive that these eternal harmonizers of the whole

Universe do, in fact, constitute a self-existent Mind.

[ba] With perfect fairness, Professor Huxley admits the force of

this distinction. In a paragraph quoted p. 133, he wrote thus:--"It

is necessary to remember that there is a wider Teleology, which is

not touched by the doctrine of Evolution, but is actually based upon

the fundamental proposition of Evolution. That proposition is, that

the whole world, living and not living, is the result of the mutual

interaction, according to definite laws, of the forces possessed by

the molecules of which the primitive nebulosity of the universe was

composed. If this be true, it is no less certain that the existing

world lay, potentially, in the cosmic vapour; and that a sufficient

intelligence could, from a knowledge of the properties of the molecules

of that vapour, have predicted, say the state of the Fauna of Britain

in 1869, with as much certainty as one can say what will happen to the

vapour of the breath in a cold winter's day."

It is curious to compare Mr. Huxley's dictum on the Eye (cited p. 133)

with a passage before part-quoted from Mr. Newman. "In saying that

lungs _were intended_ to breathe, and eyes to see, we imply an argument

from Fitness to Design, which carries conviction to the overwhelming

majority of cultivated as well as uncultivated minds. Yet, in calling

it an argument, we may seem to appeal to the logical faculty; and

this would be an error. No syllogism is pretended, that _proves_ a

lung to have been made to breathe; but _we see it_ by what some call

Common-Sense, and some Intuition. If such a fact stood alone in the

universe, and no other existences spoke of Design, it would probably

remain a mere enigma to us; but when the whole human world is pervaded

by similar instances, not to see a Universal Mind in nature appears

almost a brutal insensibility; and if any one intelligently professes

Atheism, the more acute he is, the more distinctly we perceive that he

is deficient in the Religious Faculty. Just as, if he had no sense of

Beauty in anything, we should not imagine that we could impart it by

argument, so neither here.... No stress whatever needs here to be laid

upon minute anatomy, as, for instance, of the eye: it signifies not,

whether we do or do not understand its optical structure as a matter of

science. If it had _no_ optical structure at all, if it differed in no

respect (that we could discover) from a piece of marble, except that

it sees, this would not impair the reasons for believing that it _is

meant_ to see." _The Soul_, pp. 32-3.

This extract from Mr. Newman raises the question--Is an eminent

Biologist any better judge on the subject of _Design_, than any other

eminent thinker? Clearly he is a judge of _Fitness_, but that fact is

admitted on all sides;--the eyes of animals are practically fit for

seeing with, and, what is more, they are fitted to the special fields

of vision useful to their several owners. The first question is, Does

the fact of seeing or the fitness to see raise a moral certainty or

very strong probability of Design? And should a Biologist rejoin that

there exists another account of organic facts and fitnesses probable

and adequate; next comes the further inquiry, which is the most

probable, the most adequate, in a word the easiest? In this connection

it must likewise be asked with some urgency, what _non_-Biological

reasons there are for preferring Design? Whether for instance any good

reasons may be found for believing that there is somewhere subsisting

in and over the Natural world an Intelligence of such order as to be

capable of arranging fitness with a view to the harmony and general

co-operation of natural Forces?

The attempt has been made to shew cause on this side in the present

Chapter. Of course, the case for Design must be rendered unanswerable

if a certitude of Reason, either speculative or practical, or a very

strong conclusion of moral argument, or a probability outweighing all

other probabilities, shall in any way be shewn for accepting the still

nobler belief in a self-existent Will and Personality. Now this latter

idea is the subject of our two closing Chapters, and is contemplated

on grounds with which the Biologist or Physicist, quâ Biologist or

Physicist has no very special concern.

It seems plain, however, that when a great Biologist is pre-eminently a

philosophic thinker (as an author like Mr. Huxley must be acknowledged

by competent judges)--then he possesses a strong vantage ground, and

vast opportunities either for good or for evil. And these last six

words remind us to add with Mr. Newman that after all _subjective_

conditions must not be forgotten.

Would not a man without sense of the Beautiful be "colour-blind" to

many among the harmonies of Nature? And is there not something in the

"Religious insight" Mr. Newman speaks of which seems nothing less than

a gift of vision and faculty divine? Man thus endowed may be in the

highest sense Nature's interpreter, when he sees in her moving mirror

the reflected lineaments of his own and Nature's God. To such a mind no

idea can be more sublimely magnificent than the philosophic Teleology

which Mr. Huxley bases on Evolution; it seems to compress into one the

Past, the Present, and the Future; and to follow with winged thought

that glance of an omniscient Creator which tongues of men and angels

must for ever fail to describe.

We ought to add that the principle of Evolution has been defined in

more than one way. Some definitions would exclude the wide Teleologic

view. What is here meant might (to borrow Mr. Spencer's remark) be more

justly characterized as "INVOLUTION."

[200] Comparing the life of Humanity with the life of an individual,

and arguing for an all-pervading optimism as the general Law in both,

Littré observes, "Pas plus dans un cas que dans l'autre, ne sont

éliminées? _les maladies, les perturbations, les dérangements, en un

mot, tous les accidents qui interviennent dans le fonctionnement de

chaque loi_, et qui sont d'autant plus fréquents et plus graves que

la loi dont il s'agit gouverne des rapports plus compliqués et plus

élevés." _Paroles de Philosophie Positive_, p. 26. The italics are our

own.

[201] It is a curious problem to put testimony in the scale against

alleged necessities, regarding the course of Nature. A certain Eastern

prince had never seen ice--and obstinately rejected the idea of its

possible existence. Was he wise or unwise in his disbelief? Wise, if

we make the rule of actual experience our canon;--unwise if we admit

the rule of modification by unseen possibilities; and still more,

if we allow that a small amount of _affirmative_ testimony ought

in reason to outweigh a large amount of _negative_ presupposition,

or difficulty. A curious instance of this last rule is the natural

history of the duck-billed platypus (the ornithorynchus), rightly

called "_paradoxus_." The contradictory appearance of its organs

created a world of scepticism, when its history was first reported to

Naturalists. It was a question of improbability versus testimony;--and,

to use the established phrase, "every school boy" now knows that

Testimony was right. Compare Note (_c_) p. 264, _ante_.

[bb] How Bacon can have been pictured by his admirers as neither ideal,

nor metaphysical, seems to be one of those unintelligible mysteries

of idolatry which idol-worshippers cannot themselves explain. How

impossible it is on such a supposition to reconcile Bacon with himself

will appear evident to any informed reader of Mr. Ellis's Preface to

the Philosophical Works.

Bacon's tribute to Plato was just, as well as discriminating, and to

our purpose is most appropriate. He says (_De Augmentis_, III. 4)

"For Metaphysic, I have already assigned to it the inquiry of Formal

and Final Causes; which assignation, as far as it relates to Forms,

may seem nugatory; because of a received and inveterate opinion that

the Essential Forms or true differences of things cannot by any human

diligence be found out; an opinion which in the meantime implies and

admits that the invention of Forms is of all parts of knowledge the

worthiest to be sought, if it be possible to be found. And as for the

possibility of finding it, they are ill discoverers who think there is

no land where they can see nothing but sea. But it is manifest that

Plato, a man of sublime wit (and one that surveyed all things as from

a lofty cliff), did in his doctrine concerning Ideas descry that Forms

were the true object of knowledge; howsoever he lost the fruit of this

most true opinion by considering and trying to apprehend Forms as

absolutely abstracted from matter." This last path we have endeavoured

to avoid; and have ourselves elected to follow the Baconian precept,

and to treat the Law or Form of Production not logically, but as

seen in operation, and existent _in rerum naturâ_; not _in ordine ad

hominem_ but _in ordine ad Universum_.

What Bacon himself expected from the investigation, he states plainly

enough in continuation. "If we fix our eyes diligently seriously and

sincerely upon action and use, it will not be difficult to discern and

understand what those Forms are the knowledge whereof may wonderfully

enrich and benefit the condition of men.... This part of Metaphysic I

find deficient; whereat I marvel not, because I hold it not possible

that the Forms of things can be invented by that course of invention

hitherto used; the root of the evil, as of all others, being this: that

men have used to sever and withdraw their thoughts too soon and too far

from experience and particulars, and have given themselves wholly up to

their own meditation and arguments.

"But the use of this part of Metaphysic, which I reckon amongst the

deficient, is of the rest the most excellent in two respects; the

one, because it is the duty and virtue of all knowledge to abridge

the circuits and long ways of experience (as much as truth will

permit), and to remedy the ancient complaint that 'life is short and

art is long.'... For God is holy in the multitude of his works, holy

in the order or connexion of them, and holy in the union of them.

And therefore the speculation was excellent in Parmenides and Plato

(although in them it was but a bare speculation), 'that all things by

a certain scale ascend to unity.'" (_Ibid._ Ellis and Spedding, IV.

360-362.)

[bc] The Hulsean Lecturer before alluded to states this point with most

distinct emphasis. Speaking of the Eye as an optical instrument, he

says, "Here are _four_ conditions of things each utterly _independent_

of the others, viz. the nerve, then its non-reflecting coating, then

a transparent medium investing it, then a most remarkable _ether_

surrounding the whole, the concurrence of all four being essential

to the production of vision, nevertheless we are to believe that all

these adjustments and adaptations are accidentally made, retained

and handed down by inheritance. If there be not evidence here of the

selecting, arranging, controlling power of _mind_, will, forethought,

contrivance, then I feel that I have no evidence for the existence of

the individuality of my own being." _Analogies_, _etc._, p. 124.

[202] There is perhaps no familiar tribe in which the wonders of

this mechanical arrangement, can be more easily studied than in the

venerable family of owls.

[203] The stalk-eyed Crustacea are known to most readers through the

fascinating volume of Mr. Bell.

[204] _De Anima_, III. 1, 4. _Hist. Animal._, I. 9, IV. 8. The

structural eye is reduced to an ocellus.

[205] M. Le Court: see Geoffrey St. Hilaire, _Cours d'Histoire

Naturelle, des Mammifères_.

[206] One is glad of this result for Shakespeare's sake, as well as

Aristotle's; though a Warwickshire man might have been expected to know

the exact truth so far as his county is concerned; which Shakespeare

did not:--

"The blind mole casts

Copp'd hills towards heaven." (_Pericles_, I. 1.)

"Pray you tread softly that the blind mole may not

Hear a footfall." (_Tempest_, IV. 1.)

[207] The Proteus Anguinus has been rendered illustrious by Sir H.

Davy's _Consolations in Travel_. Since his time, living specimens have

been kept in England.

[208] The English reader will be charmed with the account of him in

Bell's _British Quadrupeds_.

[209] "In the organ of hearing in man we have first of all the external

orifice of the ear, which is closed at the bottom by the circular

tympanic membrane. Behind that membrane is the cavity called the drum

of the ear, this cavity being separated from the space between it

and the brain by a bony partition, in which there are two orifices,

the one round and the other oval. These orifices are also closed by

fine membranes. Across the cavity of the drum stretches a series of

four little bones: the first, called the _hammer_, is attached to the

tympanic membrane; the second, called the _anvil_, is connected by a

joint with the hammer; a third little round bone connects the anvil

with the _stirrup bone_, which has its oval base planted against the

membrane of the oval orifice above referred to. The base of the stirrup

bone abuts against this membrane, almost covering it, and leaving but

a narrow rim of the membrane surrounding the bone. Behind the bony

partition, and between it and the brain, we have the extraordinary

organ called the _labyrinth_, which is filled with water, and over the

lining membrane of which, the terminal fibres of the auditory nerve are

distributed. When the tympanic membrane receives a shock, that shock

is transmitted through the series of bones above referred to, and is

concentrated on the membrane against which the base of the stirrup

bone is planted. That membrane transfers the shock to the water of the

labyrinth, which, in its turn, transfers it to the nerves.

"The transmission, however, is not direct. At a certain place within

the labyrinth exceedingly fine elastic bristles, terminating in sharp

points, grow up between the terminal nerve fibres. These bristles,

discovered by Max Schultze, are eminently calculated to sympathise with

those vibrations of the water which correspond to their proper periods.

Thrown thus into vibration, the bristles stir the nerve fibres which

lie between their roots, and excite audition. At another place in the

labyrinth we have little crystalline particles called _otolithes_--the

Hörsteine of the Germans--embedded among the nervous filaments, and

which, when they vibrate, exert an intermittent pressure upon the

adjacent nerve fibres, thus exciting audition. The otolithes probably

subserve a different purpose from that fulfilled by the bristles of

Schultze. They are fitted, by their weight, to accept and prolong

the vibrations of evanescent sounds, which might otherwise escape

attention. The bristles of Schultze, on the contrary, because of their

extreme lightness, would instantly yield up an evanescent motion,

while they are eminently fitted for the transmission of continuous

vibrations. Finally, there is in the labyrinth a wonderful organ,

discovered by the Marchese Corti, which is to all appearance a musical

instrument, with its chords so stretched as to accept vibrations

of different periods, and transmit them to the nerve filaments

which traverse the organ. Within the ears of men, and without their

knowledge or contrivance, this lute of 3,000 strings has existed for

ages, accepting the music of the outer world, and rendering it fit

for reception by the brain. Each musical tremor which falls upon this

organ selects from its tensioned fibres the one appropriate to its own

pitch, and throws that fibre into unisonant vibration. And thus, no

matter how complicated the motion of the external air may be, those

microscopic strings can analyse it and reveal the constituents of which

it is composed." Tyndall. _On Sound_, pp. 323-4 and 5. We may add that

the "fine elastic bristles," mentioned by Dr. Tyndall, are known to be

prolongations of the free ends of the epithelial cells. The _other_

ends of these cells--(_i.e._ the deep or attached ends) are delicately

ramified, and are said to be in connection with slender nerve-fibrils.

[210] _E.g._, Coleridge. "I have at this moment before me, in the

flowery meadow, on which my eye is now reposing, one of its most

soothing chapters, in which there is no lamenting word, no one

character of guilt or anguish. For never can I look and meditate on

the vegetable creation without a feeling similar to that with which we

gaze at a beautiful infant that has fed itself asleep at its mother's

bosom, and smiles in its strange dream of obscure yet happy sensations.

The same tender and genial pleasure takes possession of me, and this

pleasure is checked and drawn inward by the like aching melancholy,

by the same whispered remonstrance, and made restless by a similar

impulse of aspiration. It seems as if the soul said to herself: From

this state hast _thou_ fallen! Such shouldst thou still become, thyself

all permeable to a holier power! thyself at once hidden and glorified

by its own transparency, as the accidental and dividuous in this quiet

and harmonious object is subjected to the life and light of nature;

to that life and light of nature, I say, which shines in every plant

and flower, even as the transmitted power, love and wisdom of God over

all fills, and shines through, nature! But what the plant is, by an

act not its own and unconsciously--_that_ must thou make thyself to

_become_--must by prayer and by a watchful and unresisting spirit, join

at least with the preventive and assisting grace to make thyself, in

that light of conscience which inflameth not, and with that knowledge

which puffeth not up!" _Statesman's Manual._ Appendix B. pp. 267, 8.

Ed. 1839.

The Philosophy of Natural Theology An Essay in confutation of the scepticism of the present day · 第 15 / 19 章