CHAPTER III

THE PHYSICAL LIMITATIONS OF EXISTENCE

The tremendous strides made in the sciences of biology, histology,

physiology, and psychology in the latter part of the last century, in

connection with the development of the science of organic chemistry,

have done much to unravel the life-mystery from a physical point of

view. One by one the determining characteristics of the mentality

of the _genus homo_ have dwindled down until to-day even reason in

its broadest sense is granted by the most conservative to some of

the vegetable forms of life, and any unbiased mind will have hard

work to determine the difference between the so-called "Brownian"

movement of particles of gamboge when macerated in a little water,

or even of bits of camphor when dropped upon the surface of water,

and the movements of the particles of a protoplasmic mass; although

one is caused by temperature changes, and the other by chemism. The

selectative growth of a vertex of a crystal in a saturated solution,

and the claw of a crab, both of which have previously suffered the

loss of their respective parts, are perhaps not so different as

the words "organic" or "inorganic" would lead us to believe when

applied as a classification to their principals. We know that in the

life-process, as everywhere else, the law of substance and the law of

the conservation of energy are held inviolate, and the theory which

treats of life as a characteristic entity apart from the condition

which makes it possible, is certainly false. The matter which

composes the living body is chemically the same as that which we find

everywhere. The fact that some living bodies have the power to form

protoplasm out of its chemical elements or simple combinations of

them, or only assimilate such protoplasm after it has been formed from

inorganic matter, constitutes, in the broadest sense, the difference

between the vegetable and the animal life, as we now know it. But,

whether living or dead, the protoplasm has about the same composition,

and, therefore, it must be that life _per se_ is in reality only the

manifestation of a form of motion. Science, by deduction, teaches us

to look upon the living body very much as a theoretically perfect

motor-generator set, the line terminals of the dynamo being the feed

wires of the motor. Such a machine, standing still, would be "dead" in

all senses of the word, although, potentially, its integrity would be

the same as when in operation. But, once put in motion, this machine

would directly come up to speed, and maintain itself at its normal rate

of rotation until something interfered with it, or set up resistance

within its circuit. From this time on, its rate of rotation would

diminish until it stopped. If its integrity were suddenly violated,

this stop would come at once.

Fifty years ago, heat, light, and electricity were all talked of, and

believed to be forces whose existence was in no way dependent upon

matter. Since the investigations of Thomson and Helmholtz, there is no

unbiased scientist who can for a minute think that the manifestation

of any of these could possibly exist without material of some sort,

such as in a general way we call matter. Even chemism, the most

obscure of all physical forces, we know to be very closely allied to

gravitative attraction, and to be so powerful since it operates through

such short distances. In fact, if we adopt the only known feasible

hypothesis to account for the formation of matter, we must, in the

end, admit that motion, and not matter, is the most potent of all the

primal causes which we can imagine to-day. If we could eliminate motion

entirely from the universe, we do not know of a single characteristic

which would be left, by which we could identify existence as we know

it, certainly not even matter itself. Every investigation or experiment

which has been made in the domain of the natural sciences has only

amassed additional evidence to the tremendous amount already gathered;

all going certainly to prove that at least the former two of the old

three universally accepted postulates were false, _viz._: the free

moral agency of man, the immortality of the soul, and the existence

of a personal God, or a power outside of and superior to nature.

The latter will in no wise interest us, inasmuch as experience has

taught us that, in general as well as in particular, the universe is

governed by law; all honor to Humboldt and Descartes for so clearly

demonstrating this.

We are quite sure to-day that, roughly estimated, each pound of human

flesh represents an amount of potential energy equal to about sixteen

million foot-pounds, and that all of the life-processes are, in the

last analysis, purely physical, and that they follow physical laws. Any

exertion, either muscular or nervous, which we make, over and above

that supplied by the energy in our assimilated food, will have to be

taken from the stock as represented in the tissue,--consequently,

continued work means hunger; if continued longer without food, it means

exhaustion, and if continued longer without food and rest intervening,

it means the deterioration of the tissues. The recent investigations of

Matthews upon the manner of nerve action, and the fact that the same

is due to substances known as reversible gelatines, as well as to the

cause of the negative variation of nerves exposed to exciting stimuli,

all show that these most complex of life's processes are as purely

physical, in the largest sense, as the most simple ones. The artificial

fertilization of sterile eggs by the use of dilute solutions, whose

actions might almost be called catalytic, still further emphasizes

the fact that life's processes, even in the embryo, are essentially

physical. Take, for instance, the sterile egg of the sea-urchin; the

two per cent. solution of potassium cyanide; the continued constant

temperature for a definite time, and all of the other conditions which

enter into the development of this crude protoplasmic mass, are all

physical factors, regardless of the fact that the result is a living

organism, where we would, according to our old ideas, certainly expect

an undeveloped sterile egg, or a potentially dead body. As with this

ovum, so with the vegetable protoplasmic mass in the germinal radical

of a seed: if its development is once started, it must continue its

natural course without interference, upon pain of speedy degeneration

upon interruption, and, in this light, both the egg and the grain of

seed are places where life can be started (or motion on a larger scale

begun) rather than living things before their development began, or

while they were lying in their dormant state.

The death-knell to the theory of the personal immortality of the

human soul, as ordinarily enunciated, was rung in 1875 by the German

biologist, Hertzig, when he succeeded in bringing the living ovum into

the presence of the ciliated sperm-cells under the microscope, while in

the field of a lens of sufficient power to enable him to see clearly

what took place. It is sufficient for our purpose to state that the

minute the spermatozoon had pierced the cell wall of the egg-cell,

the new individual of that species came into existence, and had,

potentially, all of the life-possibilities, or was, in fact, as much

alive as it would have been if this had happened under conditions which

would have been favorable to its further development. The fact that

the fertilized egg-cell immediately forms a mucous sheath the moment

that its nucleus coalesces with that of the spermatozoon to prevent

the further entrance of other spermatozoa, has done much to give rise

and impetus to the theory that each cell has a soul, and that when

these two nuclei completely fuse together, the resulting cytula, or

fertilized ovum or stem-cell, has a soul peculiarly its own; which is

made up in much the same way as two corresponding magnetic fields which

are blended when two magnets are brought within the territory of each

other's influence and unite to form a resultant field. That each of the

sexual una-cells is distinguished by a form of sensation and motion of

its own, and that this is true throughout the whole animal world, has

given peculiar significance to these empirical facts of conception; as

these will at once offer an explanation of the mysterious influence

of heredity, such as was never possible heretofore. That each human

individual has a beginning of existence with the coalescing of the

nuclei of the parent cells, just as he has an end of existence with the

violation of the integrity of his physical body, whether after the

lapsing of one second or one century, must, to anyone who has observed

biological phenomena like the above, be perfectly clear.

With the recent development of the science of embryology, there is no

longer any ground upon which man can lay claim, in the largest sense,

to free moral agency. Conditioned as he is, even before birth, by the

influence of heredity, which science has now localized to the inner

nucleus of the cytula, not only are his natural tastes and temperament

quite largely determined for him, but often, in at least as large a

sense, his mental and physical possibilities. It was our genial Dr.

Holmes, who, some years ago, said, "If you would make a man, you must

begin at least four generations before he is born," and, as embryology

has since proven, he spoke more truth than he thought. Any person

possessing a normally trained observation cannot help but note in

their aptitude, or in their manner of doing certain things, their debt

to their ancestors. How seldom (we might say, never) do we find in

our friends what we had pictured and hoped for, owing, perhaps more

than anything else, to the baneful influence of heredity. Degenerate

features, scrofula, epilepsy, melancholia, etc., are all practically

in every case the gift of some progenitor. Tendencies to insanity and

crime are clearly recognized to-day by the administrators of the law,

in every civilized country, as possible a legacy as coin, real estate,

or chattels were a few centuries ago.

Whatever influence can be ascribed to heredity, as a positive

limitation to human existence, we know absolutely that in a much

larger sense is man a victim of his environment, particularly during

the period of his childhood and adolescence. Professor Loeb has shown

that at least as large proportion (possibly one-half) of the influence

of heredity may be eliminated by the artificial fertilization of the

ovum of many species, but embryology tells us that it is beyond the

possibilities of science to ever render impotent the adaptive tendency

of the individual. With human beings, the importance of environment is

much greater under a high state of civilization than in the condition

of savagery or barbarism, since the possibilities of achievement are

infinitely greater in the individual well-educated than in a condition

of illiteracy. What would the mathematical genius of Newton or Leibnitz

accomplish in developing the calculus, had they been born among the

Patagonians or the bushmen of Australia? Would Napoleon's military

talent have availed him anything if he had been placed by birth among

the cliff-dwellers of Arizona instead of the fomenting political

corruption of overpopulated France? Even in a much more restricted

sense, Austerlitz, Marengo, and Lodi could not have become noted as

the stepping-stones toward his imperialism, had he not attended the

military school at Brienne.

In the discussion of this question, of the freedom of the will, or the

free moral agency of man, it seems almost preposterous that educated

people still cling to a theory so at variance with all known facts.

That all men are created free and equal is not only relatively but

absolutely untrue in the largest sense, but that they are all entitled

to, and have equal possibilities, so far as is within their power, is

not only the meaning which the writer of the "Declaration" intended to

convey, but is what every fair-minded man must necessarily accord to

all of his fellow-men, even regardless of sex. In Jefferson's time,

the last clause could not have been inserted, but at the beginning of

the twentieth century, at least in four of the States of this country,

woman has been given her full property rights, and in one she has

full and complete citizenship on an equal basis with man. It cannot

be many years until culture and a sense of equity will have been so

disseminated that, at least under democratic forms of government, woman

will be given her full civil and political rights, and regarded, as

she justly should be, as no longer a forced parasite of man, but as

potentially his equal in every respect.

While considering this matter, it is worthy of note that no less an

authority than Havelock Ellis has conclusively shown that, not only in

the moral world, where woman is and has been the acknowledged superior

of man, is she at least his peer, but also in her intellectual power

and physical development as concerns the evolution of the race when

surrounded by equally advantageous conditions has she occupied the

very van. The chivalrous and insane worship which man has bestowed

upon her as an exchange for her condoning his moral crimes, has tended

both to make him lax in his morality, by reason of her readily granted

forgiveness, and to rob her of her rights as his equal, by keeping

her in seclusion and incapacitated for self-support. Probably no one

thing has worked more harm to the race as a whole than this, and it

is perhaps the crowning glory of the age in which we are living that

woman, in America, no longer has to accept the physical and moral

derelict which the average man is when he comes to the age at which he

has finished "sowing his wild oats," and wishes to settle down to a

domestic existence, as a candidate for reform under the tutelage of a

pure and virtuous woman; or by refusing his proffer of marriage, become

the laughing-stock of not only her suitor, but of her own sex as

well, under the name of "an old maid." As woman has become capable of

self-support, man has lost his power over her, and his accountability

for his actions has directly increased, just as woman has gone from

under his power. That woman can have an honorable destiny to fulfill

other than as a convenience or source of amusement for man is, at last,

after countless ages of darkness, beginning to dawn upon the world of

culture and intelligence.

Perhaps the greatest of all human limitations arises from the fact

that after the gratification of physical desire, of whatsoever kind,

comes satiety. The food which, to the starving man, was priceless,

and which afforded him keen delight as he ate it, but nauseates him

when temporarily his appetite is satisfied and try, as hard as he

may, he can contain no more. How many a man has failed to realize

this, and, after a youth of penury has, by the closest application,

obtained a competence, and by its use, a gratification of his desires,

but without consideration kept up his earning power, and hoarded his

wealth, only to find, to his sorrow, that it was impossible to furnish

gratifications when he no longer had the shadow of a desire! No matter

how much of a gormand a man is he can eat but a certain small quantity

of food per day, the amount of which varies directly with the manual

labor which he does, and, as a usual thing, the more he is able to

purchase, the less likely he is to do that labor which alone will make

his money of value to him from a gastronomic standpoint. Should his

desire be to pale "the lilies of the field" with his raiment, he is

still limited to a certain quantity and character of vesture, so that

in comparison with "unreasoning" vegetable life, his pride will not

be greatly gratified should he possess any sense of humor at all. If

prestige and prowess resulting as the outcome of any physical endeavor

be his ambition, he must realize that whatever pinnacle of popularity

he may attain to, it will be only a few years until he must acknowledge

a successful rival.

In the constant mutation of all the conditions which surround human

existence, we find another most potent limitation to life. How few

of these vital conditions, from a physical standpoint, are under our

control? And yet how important some of the even trivial ones really

are? The extent to which we are dependent upon health, comeliness,

wealth, location, the physical aspects in the lives of our friends, and

all of those complex details which go to make up our routine of life,

can hardly be over-estimated. Starting, as the individual does, with a

complete lack of experience from which to judge, and without even the

power to exercise his reason, as this develops within him after years

of mistakes, until his fund of recollection of these errors constitutes

a basis of experimental knowledge, he is at best upon most dangerous

ground in early life. He is handicapped just in proportion as he has

not some guardian who pilots him until he is able to judge for himself

of the character of his actions. It is the most pathetic thought

which the human mind is capable of comprehending, that nature cannot

be imprecated, bribed, or frightened out of her relentless rule of

exacting full and complete consequence of our every action. Ignorance

is no plea for mercy before her court, and her penalties are exacted

without either fear or favor. Nor is her tribunal cognizant of any plan

of vicarious atonement, but in many cases partially are we visited

with the penalties of our progenitors' disobedience to her immutable

laws. In view of these truths, let us not falsely be inflated with

pride, because of any ephemeral successes. Let us in the moments of

aggrandizement remember Massillon, as he stood at the bier of "Le Grand

Monarch," and when we consider the truth in his opening statement, in

that magnificent funeral oration, "God only is Great," we must feel our

sense of importance leave us. Whoever stood erect with egotism over

the corpse of a friend, even though he be as mad as Lear, raving, "O

that a horse, a dog, a rat hath life, and thou no breath!"? Our control

over our physical condition is worthy of mention only on account of its

paucity, and we can never appreciate our true position on earth, until

at times we are filled with the sentiment, so well expressed by Bryant:

"In sadness then I ponder, how quickly fleets the hour,

Of human strength and action, man's courage and his power."

It is not for us to be crushed with the appreciation of our real lack

of importance, from a physical and moral viewpoint, but no scheme of

life can be built upon a sure foundation without an understanding of

what in the case of Schopenhauer, and some other brilliant intellects,

formed the basis of their pessimistic philosophy. That we are not

absolutely free, morally, to select our course, does not keep us from

being relatively so, and, after all, the destiny of the individual is

very largely within his power to shape. It is only through incessant

and vigorous struggle that anything worth while is accomplished, and

nature, in this and many other instances, is with us, since we become

capacitated for greater endeavor through practice, and the habit, once

formed, makes the effort for advancement become almost an instinct

within us, so that our mental activity does not have to be continually

consumed in holding our will to the course, but can be applied to

fighting our way upward along it. Just as fresh recruits are unable

to render the efficient service of veterans in actual warfare, so our

capabilities, morally and intellectually, become augmented by constant

practice. In the succeeding chapters, we shall attempt to show what is

possible to be got from life by the use of all of the advantages which

we have, and, in doing this, we shall elucidate a philosophy which is

as consistent with the facts of life as known to us as we can make it.

In the days of the decadence of the Roman Empire, when perhaps life was

as uncertain as it ever was in the history of the world, the walls of

the banquet halls of a certain clique were always adorned with skulls

and other tokens of death, and according to all accounts, the mirth

was more furious, and the licentiousness greater, as the guests were

brought to realize the shortness of the time during which they had to

live. We moderns may well get an idea from these feasts, in which

the sentiment of Solomon, as voiced a thousand years earlier--than

the instance cited, and under similar conditions, "let us eat, drink,

and be merry, for to-morrow we die," is the dominating one, and, in

considering the shortness of life, realize that every minute should be

filled with effort, as time which is passed is gone forever. Even at

the best, whatever we may elect to accomplish, should take all of our

attention, and, although we may give it this, we will still be able to

find moments in which we did not live up to our possibilities.

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