CHAPTER XXIII

TRANSFORMATIONS OF VICTORIAN SCIENCE

The Prince Consort's influence in organizing pursuits and departments

of knowledge, a characteristic of the Victorian age. The Prince not

only the advocate of the 1851 Exhibition, but most active in the

movement that has given us South Kensington as an instrument in the

knowledge of art and science. The British Association foreshadowed by

a like organization in Germany which may have impressed the youthful

Prince Albert, but certainly set the example to the leaders of English

science. Like its German forerunners the British Association gradually

grew in popular favour. Its progress as shown by facts and figures.

Modern course of science summarized. The transforming influences of

science traced in all intellectual pursuits.

If in a few words the contrast between the England of the later and the

earlier part of the Queen's reign were to be summed up, it might be

expressed by the single word, organization. For that process, as for its

most impressive results, Victorian England is indebted primarily to the

husband of its Queen. To-day Englishmen are reminded locally and visibly

of the Great Exhibition of 1851 by the elaborately picturesque memorial of

the man who spared no pains to secure its success, situated, as that

monument is, on the spot where the great glass house once stood.

That event was the earliest triumph of the new epoch of culture including

science in its application to the conveniences or luxuries of daily life.

From 1851 too, may be dated the organized encouragement of the inventor in

all departments of scientific ingenuity.

Such a world's show might in due course have been devised by the wit of

man, even if the Queen's husband had not recalled for reproduction in

England the idea of the Frankfort fairs of the sixteenth century.[76] It

is quite certain that without the Prince's personal enterprise and

sustained supervision, and but for the invaluable co-operation of the late

Sir Henry Cole, the movement which has transformed the Court suburb from

laundry grounds, or riding schools, into a centre of artistic or

scientific education for the whole country had it taken place at all,

would not have occurred till many years later than it actually did. The

contrast between the South Kensington of the Queen's accession year with

its suburban desolations, and of the sixtieth anniversary year, with its

palaces of art, its private mansions rivalling those of Park Lane, its

Imperial Institute, its provision for educational classes by day, for

musical fetes by lamplight, might have been indefinitely postponed.

The name of Her Majesty written in the clear bold hand of youth when she

became Queen may be read to-day in the register of the Royal Society. That

entry prefigured the close connection between science and the Court which,

for the first time in the history of the monarchy, was to signalize her

reign. The period preparatory to the enthronement of science and art

beneath the glass roof of Paxton was of scarcely less educational value to

the Kingdom than, to most appliances of daily life, the Exhibition itself

was to prove. The instructive addresses delivered at this time by the

Prince Consort, now to a gathering of artists and writers, now to more

popular audiences at Birmingham or elsewhere, may seem to those who read

them to-day familiar or even commonplace. They were then entire novelties,

not only from their authorship, but from their subject.

In 1897 it appears the most natural and suitable thing in the world that a

Royal Prince should vary the more strictly ceremonial functions of State

by opening an art gallery in London, a science school in the provinces, an

Imperial Institute, a Fisheries Exhibition in South Kensington. Fifty

years since such a part seemed of questionable wisdom to some, of

dangerous precedent for the monarchy to others; at the best a foreign

experiment which the Queen's husband would most wisely have left unmade.

In the sixtieth year of the reign, there is no social gathering or private

dwelling, there is scarcely a village inn, or country cottage, or a

seaside lodging house, that by the paper on its walls, the designs of its

furniture, the suspended pictures cut from illustrated prints, fails to

remind one with eyes to see such things the extent to which ideas of art

or ornament that began with the Prince and Sir Henry Cole have directly

from South Kensington penetrated into every corner of the land, and made

their humanizing influence felt beneath the roof of peasant as well as of

peer.

Even in the thirtieth year of the reign, these forces had scarcely

advanced beyond the embryonic stage. Had the Prince Consort himself

claimed visibly to exercise the Royal prerogative, on which as a fact he

never presumed, he could scarcely have given a greater shock to the

prejudices of those high in social position and near the Court who

inherited from Hanoverian times a contempt for all distinctions save those

of birth and rank.

Up to the moment of his death the Queen's husband was endeavouring to make

his wife's Court a centre not only of achievement in war, of statesmanship

in peace, but of letters, art, science, and of the most famous among their

contemporary ornaments. Death prevented the design from ever being carried

out completely. The names of Alfred Tennyson and of Arthur Penrhyn Stanley

are enough to remind one of the direction actually travelled by the Prince

in producing some resemblance between the Windsor where a Victoria

reigned, and the Weimar whose intellectual glories, a Goethe had typified.

Here again the intellectual revolution which the Court began has been

continued by those who represent the Crown to-day.

Such knowledge of physical science as the Prince Consort's son possesses

was largely imparted to him by the teacher Faraday, who was his father's

choice. Appropriately enough, therefore, in the winter of 1897 did the

Prince of Wales assist in founding the Faraday Laboratory of the Royal

Society. The progress now spoken of seems to be symbolized by the

acceptance of the word 'science' as the nearly exclusive synonym for that

physicism which is strictly only one of the divisions that generically it

includes. From the check to the regular teaching of physical knowledge at

the disorganization spread through the world by the collapse of the Roman

Empire, and by the concentration of human thought upon politics and

theology, instead of those subjects first expounded by Thales, after him

by Archimedes, Aristotle, Ptolemy, till the day of the modern doctors had

dawned, the conquests achieved by man over nature were inconsiderable.

Francis Bacon's equalization of human _ingenia_, and his elaborately

tabulated apparatus for studying phenomena, created an appetite for

mastering the arcana of the visible universe, but did not satisfy it. As

the Prince Consort clearly saw, Nature's secret had been yielded in the

past, and would be surrendered in the future, not to founders of systems

like a Verulam or a Descartes, but to actual discoverers who did not owe

even their methods to the Schools.

Half a century after Bacon's labours, Newton, with no help from Baconian

methods discovered the law of gravitation, and with it the unity of

sequences which pervade material creation. The cause of the slight

progress of physical science whether before or immediately after Bacon

formulated his method may be partly explained by the want of the material

appliances for physical investigation. These in anything like their

mechanical perfection of to-day are not much older than our present era.

The agencies of glass, of alcohol, of microscopes and of other such

appliances were as unknown to the physicists of Alexandria, of Athens, or

of the Middle Ages as the electric wire itself. Where the subject matter,

the heavenly bodies, the structure of the human frame, could be studied

without elaborate machinery, the contemporaries or successors of the

Ionian physicists who searched for the origin of all things in some single

element, air, fire or water, seem rudely to have anticipated later

discoveries. The Aristotelian philosophy and the rudiments of practical

medicine, preserved together by Averrhoes, Avicenna, and the whole school

of the Arabian thinkers of the twelfth and thirteenth centuries, descended

in each other's company to the Italian schoolmen, and were delivered by

them to English students. Thus, on the eve of the present century, the

indestructibility of matter, however Protean the forms of its

manifestations, had been ascertained by European chemists. The year of the

Queen's accession was also that of the publication of Whewell's _History

of the Inductive Sciences_.

In this age, as in that of Bacon, great lawyers have taken a foremost

place among enquirers into the nature of things. Lord Brougham did

something to methodize, and more to popularize, the facts of science. A

greater lawyer than Brougham, Sir William Grove, Justice of the Common

Pleas first, Judge of the High Court of Justice afterwards, was also

professor of experimental philosophy at the London Institution during the

first decade of the reign. His discoveries with regard to the correlation

of forces had not been entirely formulated when Dr Whewell's book

appeared. Nor had Charles Darwin completed in his retirement at Down, in

Kent, those researches which in 1859, gave the world _The Origin of

Species_. This book, if the work of any single man ever did so, created an

epoch, not in physical enquiry alone, but in every branch of human

knowledge conducted on scientific principles.

The Victorian Court had begun to encourage science before Darwin's great

book was published. In 1847 the Prince Consort became Chancellor of the

University of Cambridge, and in this capacity he was naturally brought

into official and friendly relations with Dr Whewell, then Master of

Trinity, as well as with other English leaders of scientific thought. The

growing success of the British Association after its inaugural congress

had been held, is not unjustly connected with the Prince's name. The idea

of an annual parliament of learning was, like that of the Great Exhibition

itself, not of English origin. Even in Germany, where the first trial of

it had been made, prosperity had been gradual. At Halle, Frankfort,

Dresden, and Munich, notwithstanding the personal distinction of its chief

promoter Professor Oken, and its encouragement by many of the enlightened

Kinglets who then divided the rule of the Fatherland, during the second

decade of the century when the enterprise began, its most noticeable

meeting does not seem to have numbered more than from 200 to 400. At

Leipsic in 1822, the attendance was barely two score; six years later in

Berlin, it amounted to 464. Before that assemblage probably had much

impressed the young Prince Albert, it had stimulated the most

distinguished representatives of scientific thought in England. Sir David

Brewster, Sir John Herschel, Sir Humphry Davy based, upon the German

example, an appeal to the English Government. The decline of arts and

science in this country was attributed to their total neglect by the

State, to the exclusion of men eminent in either of these departments from

the titular decorations of the country, and to the heavy exactions from

scientific inventors imposed by the fees payable under the patent law.

More than two or three decades of the Victorian age had passed before art,

science, and letters began to receive the State recognition now firmly

acknowledged as their due. Both Bulwer Lytton and Macaulay had served in

Parliament or in office fifteen years before they were ennobled.[77]

Tennyson was the first English poet raised to the peerage who knew no

politics save those of patriotism; to the same epoch, too, belongs a like

honour bestowed upon three men of science at successive intervals:--now a

physician, Playfair, now the physicist, Lord Kelvin, and again the latest,

and to not a few the most welcome and significant of all, the inventor of

the antiseptic treatment which has saved so many lives and limbs, who will

henceforth be known as Lord Lister.

It is suggestively prophetic of the new era which in the next reign was to

open for letters, science and art in their relations to the English State,

that while the country had been preparing for a revolution peaceful but

complete in politics, there had assembled at York, September 29, 1831, a

company which prognosticated the coming revolution throughout the whole

region of popular thought and culture. The York meeting mustered less than

200. It was intended only to launch the programme of the society. 'To

point out the lines of direction in which the researches of science should

move, to state the problems to be solved, the data to be fixed, to assign

to every class of mind a definite task, to amend the laws relating to

patents, to agitate for a Government provision to encourage and reward

scientific research;'--these are the objects which Mr Harcourt enumerated

in the first official document of the body. As proof of the vitality of

the revolution which that Yorkshire company, less than 200 strong,

introduced, it is enough to mention Dr Rae's Arctic voyages of 1853-4, the

Challenger expedition of 1872, and the last Oxford University Commission

which at the instance of the first scientific Premier England has ever

known, Lord Salisbury, endowed scientific research as one of the estates

of the realm, and has done something more than relieve that seat of old

learning from the reproach of discouraging the newest sciences. Little

perhaps did the doctors of divinity, and classical professors, when, on

June 18, 1832, they welcomed the second senate of savants to its session

on the Isis, imagine themselves to be fostering a movement which would

partially oust from its emoluments and honours in their own Schools the

old learning, and give to the new not only professorships for its

teachers, but scholarships for the reward of its learners. As against the

York meeting in 1831 of not much more than 100, the Oxford meeting of the

Reform Act year attracted 700. In another twelvemonth the Cambridge

meeting of June 25, 1833, was attended by 900. The Edinburgh meeting of

September 8, 1834, mustered 1,298.

Since then the most noticeable figures have been 1855--2,133, 1861--3,138;

while 1887 crowns the list with 3,838. The figures necessarily are to some

extent governed by the importance or attractiveness of the towns at which

the meetings are held. The names on the books of the society are more than

half a million. So progressive a thing is English science. The meeting

itself is only a part of the work done. Throughout the year committees are

investigating various branches of science prominent at the moment, and

preparing their reports to be included in the Annual General Report, a

document of over 1,000 pages. Social satire at first made merry over the

learned ladies and gentlemen who combined mutual laudation of themselves

with picnics, excursions and pleasure parties of all sorts in interesting

neighbourhoods at the most agreeable season of the year. To-day no one

denies the British Association the credit of having promoted the discovery

of new facts in science, or at least having been the first agency to draw

public attention to them. Within the last few years, it was at one of

these Association meetings (Liverpool 1870) that Professor Huxley

pronounced against the popular theory of spontaneous generation of the

lower forms of life, thus placing on record his adherence to the theory of

biogenesis as opposed to abiogenesis; life, in other words, could in every

grade of creation only come from life, not from the corruption of death.

Thus was a physical tradition that from the earliest times down to the

seventeenth century had held its own, finally repudiated by the greatest

authority of his day on all biological matters.

Even this pronouncement seems to have been anticipated. A physicist less

famous than Huxley, Schwann, some half a century before Huxley's day, is

said to have been the first to criticize the abiogenesis doctrine as

supported by no sufficient evidence. The tendency towards unity in

multiplicity declared by the old Greek thinkers to characterize all true

science marked the doctrines of the correlation of force as well as of the

conservation of energy, both of them connected with this age. It was also

inherent in the theory of evolution as explained by Charles Darwin in

1859, 28 years, that is, after the British Association for the first time

met. Even the great Kentish physicist of our day was not entirely the

first in the field with the discovery that was to transform the whole

region of thought. Early in the last century De Maillet had applied the

principle of the survival of the fittest to the world of human life. On

the eve of the present century Charles Darwin's ancestor, Erasmus, as well

as German philosophers still more famous, elaborated with more ability

and knowledge the same idea, which also underlay the discussions between

the French Academicians, Cuvier and St Hilaire. However the ground may

have been prepared for him, so far as any single man can be said to have

discovered any great idea, Charles Darwin must be accounted the author of

the theory of evolution as it is now understood.

Whewell's survey of the inductive sciences at the beginning of the reign

dimly forecasts some discoveries which have since been verified. It

contains no word prophetic of the doctrine by which, in the countless

possibilities of its application, every branch of science in little more

than a quarter of a century was potentially if not actually to be

transformed. The eve of the sixtieth anniversary of the Queen's accession

has witnessed the completion by Mr Herbert Spencer of the monumental

treatise that applies the doctrines of Darwin to subjects that Darwin had

not specially studied, perhaps with results which Darwin himself had not

entirely foreseen. Whether a reaction against Darwinism has already, as

some think, set in; how far, and with what consequences, that movement may

go, are as yet only matters of speculation.

The exploration of the Italian soil has caused many chapters of Roman

history to be rewritten more in accordance with the older traditions than

with the newer learning. Like processes near the sites of Babylon and

Nineveh have done much to vindicate the authors of the Pentateuch as

chroniclers of fact; and have even created a reaction in favour of the

Mosaic cosmogony, and the sacred narrative of the Deluge. Evolution as a

philosophy is not altogether rejected by physicists of orthodoxy so

unimpeachable as Mr St. George Mivart. More lately it has been discovered

that an Anglican divine may keep an open mind on the subject of Darwinism

and yet be made Archbishop of Canterbury. To the unlearned English vulgar

the question is whether the visible universe and its inhabitants are more

likely to have developed themselves by a series of indescribable processes

than to have developed, as the Scriptural tradition has been interpreted

as teaching, by a Power external to them and directing every stage of

their progress. If it be said that evolution is the method in which that

superhuman Power who is behind and above all often chooses to act, there

is no reason why the occupant of Lambeth should not be as good an

evolutionist as the scientific investigator whose nearest country

neighbour at Down, Sir John Lubbock, appropriately presided over the

Jubilee meeting of the British Association at York.

The transformations effected in other departments of physical study during

our age are not less remarkable. Many of them have been appreciably

assisted by the social intercourse of mind with mind which the British

Association has so signally promoted. Lyell's _Principles of Geology_ was

published in pre-Association days and seven years before the Victorian age

began. Its influence was in the same direction as that of Darwin; it

suggested, that is, the enquiry why the natural processes that are said to

explain the globe we inhabit should not explain also the presence of man

upon it. Biology and anthropology, the two studies which have most been

promoted by the Darwinian doctrine, can consequently be pronounced with

truth the creations of the present age. As far back as Elizabethan times,

electrical phenomena had been systematically studied. Many of these

manifestations, however, especially their relations with heat and light,

as well as most of their adaptations to the offices of daily life, belong

to the era that opened in 1837.

Photography of course was an unknown art in pre-Victorian days. Even when

its predecessor, the Daguerreotype, discovered in 1839, had been

considerably improved upon, it still remained a contrivance rather for

distorting the human features than for faithfully reproducing them as

photography does upon glass or paper, and with the addition of natural

colours as photography now bids fair soon to have done.

These achievements of a science which is generically new have not been

accompanied with inactivity on the part of those sciences which, like

astronomy, are probably in one shape or another nearly coeval with

Creation itself. Long before the planet was actually discovered, the

telescopes that swept the heavens had brought within their ken the spot at

which in 1846 Neptune was proved to be. If the number of the heavenly

bodies has not of late received many additions, new asteroids are

constantly swimming into sight in the quarters where they had been

suspected; comets, less looked for than these apparitions, are often

announced to have flashed themselves upon the observer's sight.

The influence of scientific thought and conceptions upon the language of

literature as well as of daily life, is only less remarkable than the

material conquests of science themselves. The most instructive instance of

this is afforded by the scholarly and illustrious woman of genius who will

always be known to fame as George Eliot. The popular idea of Mr Herbert

Spencer having influenced her studies and her phraseology is not quite

true. Mr Spencer was her own, and her companion's, friend. Her diction in

her later works was inspired by the intellectual forces of her day. Of the

formative power of these she was probably herself unconscious. If Herbert

Spencer had a place among them, he was at least only one of several. From

George Eliot, in that phase of her genius now under consideration, there

has sprung a school. However original the gift of writers like Mrs Humphry

Ward, it seems unlikely that their talents would have taken the direction

they have received and found their expression in the language they employ

unless the author of _Adam Bede_ and _Middlemarch_ had first supplied a

new want or created a fresh intellectual taste by a style that our

forefathers might have admired, but might not always have been able to

understand.

Of the many transformations wrought by Victorian science, not the

least;--unscientific people might think it the greatest--is the

assimilation of the idiom of fiction to that of the text books of the

schools. The entire ethos of our oral diction not less than our

literature has been revolutionized by science. When a parliamentary

speaker illustrates his argument by a metaphor, it is not, as his

forerunners once did, to the Latin and Greek classics, or even to

literature at all, but to the laboratory, to the dissecting room, or to

the crucible that he most frequently goes for his _trope_. The similes of

the Attic masterpieces are taken habitually from those operations with

which their naval empire familiarized the Athenian mind. Nor can these

metaphors be understood without some remembrance of the processes which

marine affairs involve. A similar acquaintance with the later operations

of science is scarcely less useful for a proper appreciation of the most

characteristic beauties of Victorian prose, by whatever master displayed.

This dispossession of the literary by the scientific is universal.

Following unconsciously perhaps the example of a great statesman, those

who have in our day most widely differed from him on national affairs, a

Randolph Churchill, or a Charles Stewart Parnell have reproduced the taste

of a Salisbury in finding their recreations, not in the _belles lettres_

that were congenial to the day of a Pitt or a Canning, but in the

researches that a Tyndall, a Huxley, a Thomson, have popularized.

Galileo's astronomical views found a useful ally by the incisive raillery

of his literary style. The admirable prose of a Huxley and his fellow

labourers has been no less effective for popularizing scientific studies

with the public they have addressed. The social urbanity with which

Nature and training have endowed Sir John Lubbock has prepossessed not a

few on his own level in life in favour of those branches of physical

enquiry that have enabled him to rehabilitate the moral character of the

autumnal wasp.

Social Transformations of the Victorian Age: A Survey of Court and Country · 第 23 / 32 章