CHAPTER IX.

THE CORRELATION AND EQUIVALENCE OF FORCES.

§ 77. When, to the unaided senses, Science began to add supplementary

senses in the shape of measuring instruments, men began to perceive

various phenomena which eyes and fingers could not distinguish. Of known

forms of force, minuter manifestations became appreciable; and forms of

force before unknown were rendered cognizable and measurable. Where

forces had apparently ended in nothing, and had been carelessly supposed

to have actually done so, instrumental observation proved that effects

had in every instance been produced: the forces reappearing in new

shapes. Hence there has at length arisen the inquiry whether the force

displayed in each surrounding change, does not in the act of expenditure

undergo metamorphosis into an equivalent amount of some other force or

forces. And to this inquiry experiment is giving an affirmative answer,

which becomes day by day more decisive. Grove, Helmholtz, and Meyer, are

more than any others to be credited with the clear enunciation of this

doctrine. Let us glance at the evidence on which it rests.

Motion, wherever we can directly trace its genesis, we find to pre-exist

as some other mode of force. Our own voluntary acts have always certain

sensations of muscular tension as their antecedents. When, as in letting

fall a relaxed limb, we are conscious of a bodily movement requiring no

effort, the explanation is that the effort was exerted in raising the

limb to the position whence it fell. In this case, as in the case of an

inanimate body descending to the Earth, the force accumulated by the

downward motion is just equal to the force previously expended in the

act of elevation. Conversely, Motion that is arrested produces,

under different circumstances, heat, electricity, magnetism, light. From

the warming of the hands by rubbing them together, up to the ignition of

a railway-brake by intense friction—from the lighting of detonating

powder by percussion, up to the setting on fire a block of wood by a few

blows from a steam-hammer; we have abundant instances in which heat

arises as Motion ceases. It is uniformly found, that the heat generated

is great in proportion as the Motion lost is great; and that to diminish

the arrest of motion, by diminishing the friction, is to diminish the

quantity of heat evolved. The production of electricity by Motion is

illustrated equally in the boy’s experiment with rubbed sealing-wax, in

the common electrical machine, and in the apparatus for exciting

electricity by the escape of steam. Wherever there is friction between

heterogeneous bodies, electrical disturbance is one of the consequences.

Magnetism may result from Motion either immediately, as through

percussion on iron, or mediately as through electric currents previously

generated by Motion. And similarly, Motion may create light; either

directly, as in the minute incandescent fragments struck off by violent

collisions, or indirectly, as through the electric spark. “Lastly,

Motion may be again reproduced by the forces which have emanated from

Motion; thus, the divergence of the electrometer, the revolution of the

electrical wheel, the deflection of the magnetic needle, are, when

resulting from frictional electricity, palpable movements reproduced by

the intermediate modes of force, which have themselves been originated

by motion.”

That mode of force which we distinguish as Heat, is now generally

regarded by physicists as molecular motion—not motion as displayed in

the changed relations of sensible masses to each other, but as occurring

among the units of which such sensible masses consist. If we cease to

think of Heat as that particular sensation given to us by bodies in

certain conditions, and consider the phenomena otherwise presented by

these bodies, we find that motion, either in them or in surrounding

bodies, or in both, is all that we have evidence of. With one or two

exceptions which are obstacles to every theory of Heat, heated bodies

expand; and expansion can be interpreted only as a movement of the units

of a mass in relation to each other. That so-called radiation through

which anything of higher temperature than things around it, communicates

Heat to them, is clearly a species of motion. Moreover, the evidence

afforded by the thermometer that Heat thus diffuses itself, is simply a

movement caused in the mercurial column. And that the molecular motion

which we call Heat, may be transformed into visible motion, familiar

proof is given by the steam-engine; in which “the piston and all its

concomitant masses of matter are moved by the molecular dilatation of

the vapour of water.” Where Heat is absorbed without apparent

result, modern inquiries show that decided though unobtrusive changes

are produced: as on glass, the molecular state of which is so far

changed by heat, that a polarized ray of light passing through it

becomes visible, which it does not do when the glass is cold; or as on

polished metallic surfaces, which are so far changed in structure by

thermal radiations from objects very close to them, as to retain

permanent impressions of such objects. The transformation of Heat into

electricity, occurs when dissimilar metals touching each other are

heated at the point of contact: electric currents being so induced.

Solid, incombustible matter introduced into heated gas, as lime into the

oxyhydrogen flame, becomes incandescent; and so exhibits the conversion

of Heat into light. The production of magnetism by Heat, if it cannot be

proved to take place directly, may be proved to take place indirectly

through the medium of electricity. And through the same medium may be

established the correlation of Heat and chemical affinity—a correlation

which is indeed implied by the marked influence that Heat exercises on

chemical composition and decomposition.

The transformations of Electricity into other modes of force, are still

more clearly demonstrable. Produced by the motion of heterogeneous

bodies in contact, Electricity, through attractions and repulsions, will

immediately reproduce motion in neighbouring bodies. Now a current of

Electricity generates magnetism in a bar of soft iron; and now the

rotation of a permanent magnet generates currents of Electricity. Here

we have a battery in which from the play of chemical affinities an

electric current results; and there, in the adjacent cell, we have an

electric current effecting chemical decomposition. In the conducting

wire we witness the transformation of Electricity into heat; while in

electric sparks and in the voltaic arc we see light produced. Atomic

arrangement, too, is changed by Electricity: as instance the transfer of

matter from pole to pole of a battery; the fractures caused by the

disruptive discharge; the formation of crystals under the influence of

electric currents. And whether, conversely, Electricity be or be not

directly generated by re-arrangement of the atoms of matter, it is at

any rate indirectly so generated through the intermediation of

magnetism.

How from Magnetism the other physical forces result, must be next

briefly noted—briefly, because in each successive case the illustrations

become in great part the obverse forms of those before given. That

Magnetism produces motion is the ordinary evidence we have of its

existence. In the magneto-electric machine we see a rotating magnet

evolving electricity. And the electricity so evolved may immediately

after exhibit itself as heat, light, or chemical affinity. Faraday’s

discovery of the effect of Magnetism on polarized light, as well as the

discovery that change of magnetic state is accompanied by heat, point to

further like connexions. Lastly, various experiments show that the

magnetization of a body alters its internal structure; and that

conversely, the alteration of its internal structure, as by mechanical

strain, alters its magnetic condition.

Improbable as it seemed, it is now proved that from Light also may

proceed the like variety of agencies. The solar rays change the atomic

arrangements of particular crystals. Certain mixed gases, which do not

otherwise combine, combine in the sunshine. In some compounds Light

produces decomposition. Since the inquiries of photographers have drawn

attention to the subject, it has been shown that “a vast number of

substances, both elementary and compound, are notably affected by this

agent, even those apparently the most unalterable in character, such as

metals.” And when a daguerreotype plate is connected with a proper

apparatus “we get chemical action on the plate, electricity circulating

through the wires, magnetism in the coil, heat in the helix, and motion

in the needles.”

The genesis of all other modes of force from Chemical Action, scarcely

needs pointing out. The ordinary accompaniment of chemical combination

is heat; and when the affinities are intense, light also is, under fit

conditions, produced. Chemical changes involving alteration of bulk,

cause motion, both in the combining elements and in adjacent masses of

matter: witness the propulsion of a bullet by the explosion of

gunpowder. In the galvanic battery we see electricity resulting from

chemical composition and decomposition. While through the medium of this

electricity, Chemical Action produces magnetism.

These facts, the larger part of which are culled from Mr. Grove’s work

on “The Correlation of Physical Forces,” show us that each force is

transformable, directly or indirectly, into the others. In every change

Force undergoes metamorphosis; and from the new form or forms it

assumes, may subsequently result either the previous one or any of the

rest, in endless variety of order and combination. It is further

becoming manifest that the physical forces stand not simply in

qualitative correlations with each other, but also in quantitative

correlations. Besides proving that one mode of force may be transformed

into another mode, experiments illustrate the truth that from a definite

amount of one, definite amounts of others always arise. Ordinarily it is

indeed difficult to show this; since it mostly happens that the

transformation of any force is not into some one of the rest but into

several of them: the proportions being determined by the ever-varying

conditions. But in certain cases, positive results have been reached.

Mr. Joule has ascertained that the fall of 772 lbs. through one foot,

will raise the temperature of a pound of water one degree of Fahrenheit.

The investigations of Dulong, Petit and Neumann, have proved a relation

in amount between the affinities of combining bodies and the heat

evolved during their combination. Between chemical action and voltaic

electricity, a quantitative connexion has also been established:

Faraday’s experiments implying that a specific measure of electricity is

disengaged by a given measure of chemical action. The well-determined

relations between the quantities of heat generated and water turned into

steam, or still better the known expansion produced in steam by each

additional degree of heat, may be cited in further evidence. Whence it

is no longer doubted that among the several forms which force assumes,

the quantitative relations are fixed. The conclusion tacitly agreed on

by physicists, is, not only that the physical forces undergo

metamorphoses, but that a certain amount of each is the constant

equivalent of certain amounts of the others.

* * * * *

§ 78. Throughout Evolution under all its phases, this truth of course

invariably holds. Every successive change or group of changes forming

part of it, is of necessity limited by the conditions thus implied. The

forces which any step in Evolution exhibits, must be affiliable on the

like or unlike forces previously existing; while from the forces so

generated must thereafter be derived others more or less transformed.

And besides recognizing the forces at any time existing, as necessarily

linked with those preceding and succeeding them, we must also recognize

the amounts of these forces successively manifested as determinate,—as

necessarily producing such and such quantities of results, and as

necessarily limited to those quantities.

Involved as are the phenomena of Evolution, it is not to be expected

that a _definite_ quantitative relation can in each case, or indeed in

any case, be shown between the forces expended in successive phases. We

have not adequate data for this; and probably shall never have them. The

antecedents of the simpler forms of Evolution, belong to a remote past

respecting which we can have nothing but inferential knowledge; while

the antecedents of the only kind of Evolution which is traceable from

beginning to end (namely, that of individual organisms) are too complex

to be dealt with by exact methods. Hence we cannot hope to establish

_equivalence_ among the successive manifestations of force which each

order of Evolution affords. The most we can hope is to establish a

qualitative correlation that is indefinitely quantitative—quantitative

in so far as involving something like a due proportion between causes

and effects. If this can be done, however, some progress will be made

towards the solution of our problem. Though it may be beyond our power

to show a measurable relation between the force or group of forces which

any phase of Evolution displays, and the force or group of forces

immediately succeeding it; yet if we can show that there always are

antecedent forces, and that the effects they produce always become the

antecedents of further ones—if while unable to calculate how much of

each change will be produced, we can prove that a change of that kind

was necessitated—if we can discern even the vaguest correspondence

between the amount of such change and the amount of the pre-existing

force; we shall advance a step towards interpreting the transformation

of the simple into the complex.

With the view of attempting this, let us now reconsider the different

types of Evolution awhile since delineated: taking them in the same

order as before.

* * * * *

§ 79. On contemplating our Solar System the first fact which strikes us,

is, that all its members are in motion; and that their motion is of a

two-fold, or rather of a three-fold, kind. Each planet and satellite has

a movement of rotation and a movement of translation; besides the

movement through space which all have in common with their rotating

primary. Whence this unceasing change of place?

The hypothesis of Evolution supplies us with an answer. Impossible as it

is to assign a reason for the pre-existence of matter in the diffused

form supposed; yet assuming its pre-existence in that form, we have in

the gravitation of its parts a cause of motion adequate to the results.

So far too as the evidence carries us, we can perceive some quantitative

relation between the motions produced, and the gravitative forces

expended in producing them. The planets formed from that matter which

has travelled the shortest distance towards the common centre of

gravity, have the smallest velocities: the uniform law being that in

advancing from the outermost to the innermost planets, the rate of

orbital motion progressively increases. It may indeed be remarked that

this is explicable on the teleological hypothesis; since it is a

condition to equilibrium. But without dwelling on the fact that this is

beside the question, it will suffice to point out that the like cannot

be said of the planetary rotations. No such final cause can be assigned

for the rapid axial movement of Jupiter and Saturn, or the slow axial

movement of Mercury. But if in pursuance of the doctrine of correlation

we look for the antecedents of these gyrations which all planets

exhibit, the theory of Evolution furnishes us with equivalent ones; and

ones which bear manifest quantitative relations to the motions

displayed. For the planets that turn on their axes with extreme

rapidity, are those having great masses and large orbits—those, that is,

of which the once diffused elements moved to their centres of gravity

through immense spaces, and so acquired high velocities. While,

conversely, there has resulted the smallest axial movement where the

orbit and the mass are both the smallest.

“But what,” it may be asked, “has in such case become of all that motion

which brought about the aggregation of this diffused matter into solid

bodies?” The rotation of each body can be but a residuary result of

concentration—a result due to the imperfect balancing of gravitative

movements from opposite points towards the common centre. Such

gravitative movements from opposite points must in great measure destroy

each other. What then has become of these mutually-destroyed motions?

The answer which the doctrine of correlation suggests is—they must have

been radiated in the form of heat and light. And this answer the

evidence, so far as it goes, confirms. Apart from any speculation

respecting the genesis of the solar system, the inquiries of geologists

lead to the conclusion that the heat of the Earth’s still molten nucleus

is but a remnant of the heat which once made molten the entire Earth.

The mountainous surfaces of the Moon and of Venus (which alone are near

enough to be scrutinized), indicating, as they do, crusts that have,

like our own, been corrugated by contraction, imply that these bodies

too have undergone refrigeration—imply in each of them a primitive heat,

such as the hypothesis necessitates. Lastly, we have in the Sun a

still-continued production of this heat and light, which must result

from the arrest of diffused matter moving towards a common centre of

gravity. Here also, as before, a quantitative relation is

traceable. Among the bodies which make up the Solar System, those

containing comparatively small amounts of matter whose centripetal

motion has been destroyed, have already lost nearly all the produced

heat: a result which their relatively larger surfaces have facilitated.

But the Sun, a thousand times as great in mass as the largest planet,

and having therefore to give off an enormously greater quantity of heat

and light due to arrest of moving matter, is still radiating with great

intensity.

Thus we see that when, in pursuance of the doctrine of correlation, we

ask whence come the forces which our Solar System displays, the

hypothesis of Evolution gives us a proximate explanation. If the Solar

System once existed in a state of indefinite, incoherent homogeneity,

and has progressed to its present state of definite, coherent

heterogeneity; then the Motion, Heat, and Light now exhibited by its

members, are interpretable as the correlatives of pre-existing forces;

and between them and their antecedents we may discern relations that are

not only qualitative, but also rudely quantitative. How matter came to

exist under the form assumed, is a mystery which we must regard as

ultimate. But grant such a previous form of existence, and the

hypothesis of Evolution interpreted by the laws of correlation, explains

for us the forces as we now see them.

* * * * *

§ 80. If we inquire the origin of those forces which have wrought the

surface of our planet into its present shape, we find them traceable to

the same primordial source as that just assigned. Assuming the solar

system to have been evolved, then geologic changes are either direct or

indirect results of the unexpended heat caused by nebular condensation.

These changes are commonly divided into igneous and aqueous:—heads under

which we may most conveniently consider them.

All those periodic disturbances which we call earthquakes, all those

elevations and subsidences which they severally produce, all those

accumulated effects of many such elevations and subsidences exhibited in

ocean-basins, islands, continents, table-lands, mountain-chains, and all

those formations which are distinguished as volcanic, geologists now

regard as modifications of the Earth’s crust produced by the

still-molten matter occupying its interior. However untenable may be the

details of M. Elie de Beaumont’s theory, there is good reason to accept

the general proposition that the disruptions and variations of level

which take place at intervals on the terrestrial surface, are due to the

progressive collapse of the Earth’s solid envelope upon its cooling and

contracting nucleus. Even supposing that volcanic eruptions, extrusions

of igneous rock, and upheaved mountain-chains, could be otherwise

satisfactorily accounted for, which they cannot; it would be impossible

otherwise to account for those wide-spread elevations and depressions

whence continents and oceans result. The conclusion to be drawn is,

then, that the forces displayed in these so-called igneous changes, are

derived positively or negatively from the unexpended heat of the Earth’s

interior. Such phenomena as the fusion or agglutination of sedimentary

deposits, the warming of springs, the sublimation of metals into the

fissures where we find them as ores, may be regarded as positive results

of this residuary heat; while fractures of strata and alterations of

level are its negative results, since they ensue on its escape. The

original cause of all these effects is still, however, as it has been

from the first, the gravitating movement of the Earth’s matter towards

the Earth’s centre; seeing that to this is due both the internal heat

itself and the collapse which takes place as it is radiated into space.

When we inquire under what forms previously existed the force which

works out the geological changes classed as aqueous, the answer is less

obvious. The effects of rain, of rivers, of winds, of waves, of marine

currents, do not manifestly proceed from one general source. Analysis,

nevertheless, proves to us that they have a common genesis. If we

ask,—Whence comes the power of the river-current, bearing sediment down

to the sea? the reply is,—The gravitation of water throughout the tract

which this river drains. If we ask,—How came the water to be dispersed

over this tract? the reply is,—It fell in the shape of rain. If we

ask,—How came the rain to be in that position whence it fell? the reply

is,—The vapour from which it was condensed was drifted there by the

winds. If we ask,—How came this vapour to be at that elevation? the

reply is,—It was raised by evaporation. And if we ask,—What force thus

raised it? the reply is,—The sun’s heat. Just that amount of gravitative

force which the sun’s heat overcame in raising the atoms of water, is

given out again in the fall of those atoms to the same level. Hence the

denudations effected by rain and rivers, during the descent of this

condensed vapour to the level of the sea, are indirectly due to the

sun’s heat. Similarly with the winds that transport the vapours hither

and thither. Consequent as atmospheric currents are on differences of

temperature (either general, as between the equatorial and polar

regions, or special as between tracts of the Earth’s surface of unlike

physical characters) all such currents are due to that source from which

the varying quantities of heat proceed. And if the winds thus originate,

so too do the waves raised by them on the sea’s surface. Whence it

follows that whatever changes waves produce—the wearing away of shores,

the breaking down of rocks into shingle, sand, and mud—are also

traceable to the solar rays as their primary cause. The same may be said

of ocean-currents. Generated as the larger ones are by the excess of

heat which the ocean in tropical climates continually acquires from the

Sun; and generated as the smaller ones are by minor local differences in

the quantities of solar heat absorbed; it follows that the distribution

of sediment and other geological processes which these marine currents

effect, are affiliable upon the force which the sun radiates. The only

aqueous agency otherwise originating is that of the tides—an agency

which, equally with the others, is traceable to unexpended astronomical

motion. But making allowance for the changes which this works, we reach

the conclusion that the slow wearing down of continents and gradual

filling up of seas, by rain, rivers, winds, waves, and ocean-streams,

are the indirect effects of solar heat.

Thus the implication forced on us by the doctrine of correlation, that

the forces which have moulded and re-moulded the Earth’s crust must have

pre-existed under some other shape, is quite in conformity with the

theory of Evolution; since this pre-supposes certain forces that are

both adequate to the results, and cannot be expended without producing

the results. We see that while the geological changes classed as

igneous, result from the still-progressing motion of the Earth’s

substance to its centre of gravity; the antagonistic changes classed as

aqueous, result from the still-progressing motion of the Sun’s substance

towards its centre of gravity—a motion which, transformed into heat and

radiated to us, is here re-transformed, directly into motions of the

gaseous and liquid matters on the Earth’s surface, and indirectly into

motions of the solid matters.

* * * * *

§ 81. That the forces exhibited in vital actions, vegetal and animal,

are similarly derived, is so obvious a deduction from the facts of

organic chemistry, that it will meet with ready acceptance from readers

acquainted with these facts. Let us note first the physiological

generalizations; and then the generalizations which they necessitate.

Plant-life is all directly or indirectly dependant on the heat and light

of the sun—directly dependant in the immense majority of plants, and

indirectly dependant in plants which, as the fungi, flourish in the

dark: since these, growing as they do at the expense of decaying organic

matter, mediately draw their forces from the same original source. Each

plant owes the carbon and hydrogen of which it mainly consists, to the

carbonic acid and water contained in the surrounding air and earth. The

carbonic acid and water must, however, be decomposed before their carbon

and hydrogen can be assimilated. To overcome the powerful affinities

which hold their elements together, requires the expenditure of force;

and this force is supplied by the Sun. In what manner the decomposition

is effected we do not know. But we know that when, under fit conditions,

plants are exposed to the Sun’s rays, they give off oxygen and

accumulate carbon and hydrogen. In darkness this process ceases. It

ceases too when the quantities of light and heat received are greatly

reduced, as in winter. Conversely, it is active when the light and heat

are great, as in summer. And the like relation is seen in the fact that

while plant-life is luxuriant in the tropics, it diminishes in temperate

regions, and disappears as we approach the poles. Thus the irresistible

inference is, that the forces by which plants abstract the materials of

their tissues from surrounding inorganic compounds—the forces by which

they grow and carry on their functions, are forces that previously

existed as solar radiations.

That animal life is immediately or mediately dependant on vegetal life

is a familiar truth; and that, in the main, the processes of animal life

are opposite to those of vegetal life is a truth long current among men

of science. Chemically considered, vegetal life is chiefly a process of

de-oxidation, and animal life chiefly a process of oxidation: chiefly,

we must say, because in so far as plants are expenders of force for the

purposes of organization, they are oxidizers (as is shown by the

exhalation of carbonic acid during the night); and animals, in some of

their minor processes, are probably de-oxidizers. But with this

qualification, the general truth is that while the plant, decomposing

carbonic acid and water and liberating oxygen, builds up the detained

carbon and hydrogen (along with a little nitrogen and small quantities

of other elements elsewhere obtained) into branches, leaves, and seeds;

the animal, consuming these branches, leaves, and seeds, and absorbing

oxygen, recomposes carbonic acid and water, together with certain

nitrogenous compounds in minor amounts. And while the decomposition

effected by the plant, is at the expense of certain forces emanating

from the sun, which are employed in overcoming the affinities of carbon

and hydrogen for the oxygen united with them; the recomposition effected

by the animal, is at the profit of these forces, which are liberated

during the combination of such elements. Thus the movements, internal

and external, of the animal, are re-appearances in new forms of a power

absorbed by the plant under the shape of light and heat. Just as, in the

manner above explained, the solar forces expended in raising vapour from

the sea’s surface, are given out again in the fall of rain and rivers to

the same level, and in the accompanying transfer of solid matters; so,

the solar forces that in the plant raised certain chemical elements to a

condition of unstable equilibrium, are given out again in the actions of

the animal during the fall of these elements to a condition of stable

equilibrium.

Besides thus tracing a qualitative correlation between these two great

orders of organic activity, as well as between both of them and

inorganic agencies, we may rudely trace a quantitative correlation.

Where vegetal life is abundant, we usually find abundant animal life;

and as we advance from torrid to temperate and frigid climates, the two

decrease together. Speaking generally, the animals of each class reach a

larger size in regions where vegetation is abundant, than in those where

it is sparse. And further, there is a tolerably apparent connexion

between the quantity of energy which each species of animal expends, and

the quantity of force which the nutriment it absorbs gives out during

oxidation.

Certain phenomena of development in both plants and animals, illustrate

still more directly the ultimate truth enunciated. Pursuing the

suggestion made by Mr. Grove, in the first edition of his work on the

“Correlation of the Physical Forces,” that a connexion probably exists

between the forces classed as vital and those classed as physical, Dr.

Carpenter has pointed out that such a connexion is clearly exhibited

during incubation. The transformation of the unorganized contents of an

egg into the organized chick, is altogether a question of heat: withhold

heat and the process does not commence; supply heat and it goes on while

the temperature is maintained, but ceases when the egg is allowed to

cool. The developmental changes can be completed only by keeping the

temperature with tolerable constancy at a definite height for a definite

time; that is—only by supplying a definite quantity of heat. In the

metamorphoses of insects we may discern parallel facts. Experiments show

not only that the hatching of their eggs is determined by temperature,

but also that the evolution of the pupa into the imago is similarly

determined; and may be immensely accelerated or retarded according as

heat is artificially supplied or withheld. It will suffice just to add

that the germination of plants presents like relations of cause and

effect—relations so similar that detail is superfluous.

Thus then the various changes exhibited to us by the organic creation,

whether considered as a whole, or in its two great divisions, or in its

individual members, conform, so far as we can ascertain, to the law of

correlation. Where, as in the transformation of an egg into a chick, we

can investigate the phenomena apart from all complications, we find that

the re-arrangement of parts which constitutes evolution, involves

expenditure of a pre-existing force. Where it is not, as in the egg or

the chrysalis, merely the change of a fixed quantity of matter into a

new shape, but where, as in the growing plant or animal, we have an

incorporation of matter existing outside, there is still a pre-existing

external force at the cost of which this incorporation is effected. And

where, as in the higher division of organisms, there remain over and

above the forces expended in organization, certain surplus forces

expended in movement, these too are indirectly derived from this same

pre-existing external force.

* * * * *

§ 82. Even after all that has been said in the foregoing part of this

work, many will be alarmed by the assertion, that the forces which we

distinguish as mental, come within the same generalization. Yet there is

no alternative but to make this assertion: the facts which justify, or

rather which necessitate it, being abundant and conspicuous. They fall

into the following groups.

All impressions from moment to moment made on our organs of sense, stand

in direct correlation with physical forces existing externally. The

modes of consciousness called pressure, motion, sound, light, heat, are

effects produced in us by agencies which, as otherwise expended, crush

or fracture pieces of matter, generate vibrations in surrounding

objects, cause chemical combinations, and reduce substances from a solid

to a liquid form. Hence if we regard the changes of relative position,

of aggregation, or of chemical state, thus arising, as being transformed

manifestations of the agencies from which they arise; so must we regard

the sensations which such agencies produce in us, as new forms of the

forces producing them. Any hesitation to admit that, between the

physical forces and the sensations there exists a correlation like that

between the physical forces themselves, must disappear on remembering

how the one correlation, like the other, is not qualitative only but

quantitative. Masses of matter which, by scales or dynamometer, are

shown to differ greatly in weight, differ as greatly in the feelings of

pressure they produce on our bodies. In arresting moving objects, the

strains we are conscious of are proportionate to the momenta of such

objects as otherwise measured. Under like conditions the impressions of

sounds given to us by vibrating strings, bells, or columns of air, are

found to vary in strength with the amount of force applied. Fluids or

solids proved to be markedly contrasted in temperature by the different

degrees of expansion they produce in the mercurial column, produce in us

correspondingly different degrees of the sensation of heat. And

similarly unlike intensities in our impressions of light, answer to

unlike effects as measured by photometers.

Besides the correlation and equivalence between external physical

forces, and the mental forces generated by them in us under the form of

sensations, there is a correlation and equivalence between sensations

and those physical forces which, in the shape of bodily actions, result

from them. The feelings we distinguish as light, heat, sound, odour,

taste, pressure, &.c, do not die away without immediate results; but are

invariably followed by other manifestations of force. In addition to the

excitements of secreting organs, that are in some cases traceable, there

arises a contraction of the involuntary muscles, or of the voluntary

muscles, or of both. Sensations increase the action of the

heart—slightly when they are slight; markedly when they are marked; and

recent physiological inquiries imply not only that contraction of the

heart is excited by every sensation, but also that the muscular fibres

throughout the whole, vascular system, are at the same time more or less

contracted. The respiratory muscles, too, are stimulated into greater

activity by sensations. The rate of breathing is visibly and audibly

augmented both by pleasurable and painful impressions on the nerves,

when these reach any intensity. It has even of late been shown that

inspiration becomes more frequent on transition from darkness into

sunshine,—a result probably due to the increased amount of direct and

indirect nervous stimulation involved. When the quantity of sensation is

great, it generates contractions of the voluntary muscles, as well as of

the involuntary ones. Unusual excitement of the nerves of touch, as by

tickling, is followed by almost incontrollable movements of the limbs.

Violent pains cause violent struggles. The start that succeeds a loud

sound, the wry face produced by the taste of anything extremely

disagreeable, the jerk with which the hand or foot is snatched out of

water that is very hot, are instances of the transformation of feeling:

into motion; and in these cases, as in all others, it is manifest that

the quantity of bodily action is proportionate to the quantity of

sensation. Even where from pride there is a suppression of the screams

and groans expressive of great pain (also indirect results of muscular

contraction), we may still see in the clenching of the hands, the

knitting of the brows, and the setting of the teeth, that the bodily

actions developed are as great, though less obtrusive in their results.

If we take emotions instead of sensations, we find the correlation

and equivalence equally manifest. Not only are the modes of

consciousness directly produced in us by physical forces,

re-transformable into physical forces under the form of muscular motions

and the changes they initiate; but the like is true of those modes of

consciousness which are not directly produced in us by the physical

forces. Emotions of moderate intensity, like sensations of moderate

intensity, generate little beyond excitement of the heart and vascular

system, joined sometimes with increased action of glandular organs. But

as the emotions rise in strength, the muscles of the face, body, and

limbs, begin to move. Of examples may be mentioned the frowns, dilated

nostrils, and stampings of anger; the contracted brows, and wrung hands,

of grief; the smiles and leaps of joy; and the frantic struggles of

terror or despair. Passing over certain apparent, but only apparent,

exceptions, we see that whatever be the kind of emotion, there is a

manifest relation between its amount, and the amount of muscular action

induced: alike from the erect carriage and elastic step of exhilaration,

up to the dancings of immense delight, and from the fidgetiness of

impatience up to the almost convulsive movements accompanying great

mental agony. To these several orders of evidence must be joined

the further one, that between our feelings and those voluntary motions

into which they are transformed, there comes the sensation of muscular

tension, standing in manifest correlation with both—a correlation that

is distinctly quantitative: the sense of strain varying, other things

equal, directly as the quantity of momentum generated.

“But how,” it may be asked, “can we interpret by the law of correlation

the genesis of those thoughts and feelings which, instead of following

external stimuli, arise spontaneously? Between the indignation caused by

an insult, and the loud sounds or violent acts that follow, the alleged

connexion may hold; but whence come the crowd of ideas and the mass of

feelings that expend themselves in these demonstrations? They are

clearly not equivalents of the sensations produced by the words on the

ears; for the same words otherwise arranged, would not have caused them.

The thing said bears to the mental action it excites, much the same

relation that the pulling of a trigger bears to the subsequent

explosion—does not produce the power, but merely liberates it. Whence

then arises this immense amount of nervous energy which a whisper or a

glance may call forth?” The reply is, that the immediate

correlates of these and other such modes of consciousness, are not to be

found in the agencies acting on us externally, but in certain internal

agencies. The forces called vital, which we have seen to be correlates

of the forces called physical, are the immediate sources of these

thoughts and feelings; and are expended in producing them. The proofs of

this are various. Here are some of them. It is a conspicuous fact

that mental action is contingent on the presence of a certain nervous

apparatus; and that, greatly obscured as it is by numerous and involved

conditions, a general relation may be traced between the size of this

apparatus and the quantity of mental action as measured by its results.

Further, this apparatus has a particular chemical constitution on which

its activity depends; and there is one element in it between the amount

of which and the amount of function performed, there is an ascertained

connexion: the proportion of phosphorus present in the brain being the

smallest in infancy, old age and idiotcy, and the greatest during the

prime of life. Note next, that the evolution of thought and

emotion varies, other things equal, with the supply of blood to the

brain. On the one hand, a cessation of the cerebral circulation, from

arrest of the heart’s action, immediately entails unconsciousness. On

the other hand, excess of cerebral circulation (unless it is such as to

cause undue pressure) results in an excitement rising finally to

delirium. Not the quantity only, but also the condition of the

blood passing through the nervous system, influences the mental

manifestations. The arterial currents must be duly aerated, to produce

the normal amount of cerebration. At the one extreme, we find that if

the blood is not allowed to exchange its carbonic acid for oxygen, there

results asphyxia, with its accompanying stoppage of ideas and feelings.

While at the other extreme, we find that by the inspiration of nitrous

oxide, there is produced an excessive, and indeed irrepressible, nervous

activity. Besides the connexion between the development of the

mental forces and the presence of sufficient oxygen in the cerebral

arteries, there is a kindred connexion between the development of the

mental forces and the presence in the cerebral arteries of certain other

elements. There must be supplied special materials for the nutrition of

the nervous centres, as well as for their oxidation. And how what we may

call the quantity of consciousness, is, other things equal, determined

by the constituents of the blood, is unmistakably seen in the exaltation

that follows when certain chemical compounds, as alcohol and the

vegeto-alkalies, are added to it. The gentle exhilaration which tea and

coffee create, is familiar to all; and though the gorgeous imaginations

and intense feelings of happiness produced by opium and hashish, have

been experienced by few, (in this country at least,) the testimony of

those who have experienced them is sufficiently conclusive. Yet

another proof that the genesis of the mental energies is immediately

dependent on chemical change, is afforded by the fact, that the effete

products separated from the blood by the kidneys, vary in character with

the amount of cerebral action. Excessive activity of mind is habitually

accompanied by the excretion of an unusual quantity of the alkaline

phosphates. Conditions of abnormal nervous excitement bring on analogous

effects. And the “peculiar odour of the insane,” implying as it does

morbid products in the perspiration, shows a connexion between insanity

and a special composition of the circulating fluids—a composition which,

whether regarded as cause or consequence, equally implies correlation of

the mental and the physical forces. Lastly we have to note that

this correlation too, is, so far as we can trace it, quantitative.

Provided the conditions to nervous action are not infringed on, and the

concomitants are the same, there is a tolerably constant ratio between

the amounts of the antecedents and consequents. Within the implied

limits, nervous stimulants and anæsthetics produce effects on the

thoughts and feelings, proportionate to the quantities administered. And

conversely, where the thoughts and feelings form the initial term of the

relation, the degree of reaction on the bodily energies is great, in

proportion as they are great: reaching in extreme cases a total

prostration of physique.

Various classes of facts thus unite to prove that the law of

metamorphosis, which holds among the physical forces, holds equally

between them and the mental forces. Those modes of the Unknowable which

we call motion, heat, light, chemical affinity, &c., are alike

transformable into each other, and into those modes of the Unknowable

which we distinguish as sensation, emotion, thought: these, in their

turns, being directly or indirectly re-transformable into the original

shapes. That no idea or feeling arises, save as a result of some

physical force expended in producing it, is fast becoming a common place

of science; and whoever duly weighs the evidence will see, that nothing

but an overwhelming bias in favour of a pre-conceived theory, can

explain its non-acceptance. How this metamorphosis takes place—how

a force existing as motion, heat, or light, can become a mode of

consciousness—how it is possible for aerial vibrations to generate the

sensation we call sound, or for the forces liberated by chemical changes

in the brain to give rise to emotion—these are mysteries which it is

impossible to fathom. But they are not profounder mysteries than the

transformations of the physical forces into each other. They are not

more completely beyond our comprehension than the natures of Mind and

Matter. They have simply the same insolubility as all other ultimate

questions. We can learn nothing more than that here is one of the

uniformities in the order of phenomena.

* * * * *

§ 83. Of course if the law of correlation and equivalence holds of the

forces we class as vital and mental, it must hold also of those which we

class as social. Whatever takes place in a society is due to organic or

inorganic agencies, or to a combination of the two—results either from

the undirected physical forces around, from these physical forces as

directed by men, or from the forces of the men themselves. No change can

occur in its organization, its modes of activity, or the effects it

produces on the face of the Earth, but what proceeds, mediately or

immediately, from these. Let us consider first the correlation between

the phenomena which societies display, and the vital phenomena.

Social power and life varies, other things equal, with the population.

Though different races, differing widely in their fitness for

combination, show us that the forces manifested in a society are not

necessarily proportionate to the number of people; yet we see that under

given conditions, the forces manifested are confined within the limits

which the number of people imposes. A small society, no matter how

superior the character of its members, cannot exhibit the same quantity

of social action as a large one. The production and distribution of

commodities must be on a comparatively small scale. A multitudinous

press, a prolific literature, or a massive political agitation, is not

possible. And there can be but a small total of results in the shape of

art-products and scientific discoveries. The correlation of the

social with the physical forces through the intermediation of the vital

ones, is, however, most clearly shown in the different amounts of

activity displayed by the same society according as its members are

supplied with different amounts of force from the external world. In the

effects of good and bad harvests, we yearly see this relation

illustrated. A greatly deficient yield of wheat is soon followed by a

diminution of business. Factories are worked half-time, or close

entirely; railway traffic falls; retailers find their sales much

lessened; house-building is almost suspended; and if the scarcity rises

to famine, a thinning of the population still more diminishes the

industrial vivacity. Conversely, an unusually abundant harvest,

occurring under conditions not otherwise unfavourable, both excites the

old producing and distributing agencies and sets up new ones. The

surplus social energy finds vent in speculative enterprises. Capital

seeking investment carries out inventions that have been lying

unutilized. Labour is expended in opening new channels of communication.

There is increased encouragement to those who furnish the luxuries of

life and minister to the æsthetic faculties. There are more marriages,

and a greater rate of increase in population. Thus the social organism

grows larger, more complex, and more active. When, as happens with

most civilized nations, the whole of the materials for subsistence are

not drawn from the area inhabited, but are partly imported, the people

are still supported by certain harvests elsewhere grown at the expense

of certain physical forces. Our own cotton-spinners and weavers supply

the most conspicuous instance of a section in one nation living, in

great part, on imported commodities, purchased by the labour they expend

on other imported commodities. But though the social activities of

Lancashire are due chiefly to materials not drawn from our own soil,

they are none the less evolved from physical forces elsewhere stored up

in fit forms and then brought here.

If we ask whence come these physical forces from which, through the

intermediation of the vital forces, the social forces arise, the reply

is of course as heretofore—the solar radiations. Based as the life of a

society is on animal and vegetal products; and dependent as these animal

and vegetal products are on the light and heat of the sun; it follows

that the changes going on in societies are effects of forces having a

common origin with those which produce all the other orders of changes

that have been analyzed. Not only is the force expended by the horse

harnessed to the plough, and by the labourer guiding it, derived from

the same reservoir as is the force of the falling cataract and the

roaring hurricane; but to this same reservoir are eventually traceable

those subtler and more complex manifestations of force which humanity,

as socially embodied, evolves. The assertion is a startling one, and by

many will be thought ludicrous; but it is an unavoidable deduction which

cannot here be passed over.

Of the physical forces that are directly transformed into social ones,

the like is to be said. Currents of air and water, which before the use

of steam were the only agencies brought in aid of muscular effort for

the performance of industrial processes, are, as we have seen, generated

by the heat of the sun. And the inanimate power that now, to so vast an

extent, supplements human labour, is similarly derived. The late George

Stephenson was one of the first to recognize the fact that the force

impelling his locomotive, originally emanated from the sun. Step by step

we go back—from the motion of the piston to the evaporation of the

water; thence to the heat evolved during the oxidation of coal; thence

to the assimilation of carbon by the plants of whose imbedded remains

coal consists; thence to the carbonic acid from which their carbon was

obtained; and thence to the rays of light that de-oxidized this carbonic

acid. Solar forces millions of years ago expended on the Earth’s

vegetation, and since locked up beneath its surface, now smelt the

metals required for our machines, turn the lathes by which the machines

are shaped, work them when put together, and distribute the fabrics they

produce. And in so far as economy of labour makes possible the support

of a larger population; gives a surplus of human power that would else

be absorbed in manual occupations; and so facilitates the development of

higher kinds of activity; it is clear that these social forces which are

directly correlated with physical forces anciently derived from the sun,

are only less important than those whose correlates are the vital forces

recently derived from it.

* * * * *

§ 84. Regarded as an induction, the doctrine set forth in this chapter

will most likely be met by a demurrer. Many who admit that among

physical phenomena at least, the correlation of forces is now

established, will probably say that inquiry has not yet gone far enough

to enable us to predicate equivalence. And in respect of the forces

classed as vital, mental, and social, the evidence assigned, however

little to be explained away, they will consider by no means conclusive

even of correlation, much less of equivalence.

To those who think thus, it must now however be pointed out, that the

universal truth above illustrated under its various aspects, is a

necessary corollary from the persistence of force. Setting out with the

proposition that force can neither come into existence, nor cease to

exist, the several foregoing general conclusions inevitably follow. Each

manifestation of force can be interpreted only as the effect of some

antecedent force: no matter whether it be an inorganic action, an animal

movement, a thought, or a feeling. Either this must be conceded, or else

it must be asserted that our successive states of consciousness are

self-created. Either mental energies, as well as bodily ones, are

quantitatively correlated to certain energies expended in their

production, and to certain other energies which they initiate; or else

nothing must become something and something must become nothing. The

alternatives are, to deny the persistence of force, or to admit that

every physical and psychial change is generated by certain antecedent

forces, and that from given amounts of such forces neither more nor less

of such physical and psychial changes can result. And since the

persistence of force, being a datum of consciousness, cannot be denied,

its unavoidable corollary must be accepted. This corollary cannot

indeed be made more certain by accumulating illustrations. The truth as

arrived at deductively, cannot be inductively confirmed. For every one

of such facts as those above detailed, is established only through the

indirect assumption of that persistence of force, from which it really

follows as a direct consequence. The most exact proof of correlation and

equivalence which it is possible to reach by experimental inquiry, is

that based on measurement of the forces expended and the forces

produced. But, as was shown in the last chapter, any such process of

measurement implies the use of some unit of force which is assumed to

remain constant; and for this assumption there can be no warrant but

that it is a corollary from the persistence of force. How then can any

reasoning based on this corollary, prove the equally direct corollary

that when a given quantity of force ceases to exist under one form, an

equal quantity must come into existence under some other form or forms?

Clearly the _à priori_ truth expressed in this last corollary, cannot be

more firmly established by any _à posteriori_ proofs which the first

corollary helps us to.

“What then,” it may be asked, “is the use of these investigations by

which the correlation and equivalence of forces is sought to be

established as an inductive truth? Surely it will not be alleged that

they are useless. Yet if this correlation cannot be made more certain by

them than it is already, does not their uselessness necessarily follow?”

No. They are of value as disclosing the many particular implications

which the general truth does not specify. They are of value as teaching

us how much of one mode of force is the equivalent of so much of another

mode. They are of value as determining under what conditions each

metamorphosis occurs. And they are of value as leading us to inquire in

what shape the remnant of force has escaped, when the apparent results

are not equivalent to the cause.

First Principles · 第 9 / 17 章