LESSONS FROM NATURE.

LESSONS FROM NATURE,

AS MANIFESTED IN

MIND AND MATTER.

BY

ST. GEORGE MIVART, PH.D., F.R.S.,

SEC. L.S., F.Z.S. ;
CORRESPONDING MEMBER OF THE ACADEMY OF NATURAL SCIENCES, PHILADELPHIA

PROFESSOR OF BIOLOGY AT UNIVERSITY COLLEGE, KENSINGTON ;
AND LECTURER ON ZOOLOGY AND COMPARATIVE ANATOMY AT ST. MARY'S HOSPITAL.

LONDON:
JOHN MURRAY, ALBEMAELE STKEET.

1876.

[The right of Translation is reserved.]

LONDON: PRINTED BY WILLIAM CLOWES AND soxs, STAMFORD STREKT

AND CHARING CROSS.

To the Very Reverend FATHER NEWMAN, D.D.

MY DEAR DR. NEWMAN,

IT is with a special gladness that I avail myself
of your kind permission to dedicate to you, who love the
natural world so keenly, the following chapters on Nature
considered as one whole whereof rational man forms a part.
A tribute of respectful gratitude is indeed due from one so
indebted as I am. Among the many obligations I owe to
you, is the ability to unite in one the Theistic and the
Naturalistic conceptions of the world about us— conceptions
a divorce between which is the calamity of our age. To
former obligations however you have now added yet another.
As an Englishman and a Catholic, I thank you with all my
heart for your recent noble vindication of the rights of con
science—a vindication to which reference and appeal will,
I am persuaded, be made again and again in the times
which are to come. That that voice which so lately stilled
the storm may long be spared to speak words of peace and
wisdom — disarming prejudice and calming passion — is the
most earnest hope and prayer of

Yours most respectfully and affectionately,

ST. GEORGE MIVAKT.

WlLMBHURST, UCKFIELD,

December 8th, 1875.

PREFACE.

OBSERVATION and experience have convinced me of the
narrowing and misleading effects upon the mind of an in
complete conception of what is meant by the term "Nature."
It is too generally taken as denoting the assemblage of
phenomena external to and apart from the human mind,
which, none the less is one of the most important objects
which presents itself to our perception. Hence arises a
necessary imperfection. But a worse evil follows. " Nature,"
taken in this limited sense, is often made use of to explain
that which has been tacitly excluded from it. Thus it is
that the facts and processes of Eeason are apt to be first
io-nored in order that they may be afterwards treated as if
the mere phenomena of irrational nature were sufficient to
explain them.

Impressed with this conviction it has been my endeavour
to point out in the following chapters (in however imperfect
and fragmentary a manner) what I deem the most important
lessons to be derived from " Nature," in the broad sense of
that word as a great whole of which the mind of man forms
part. For us indeed the facts of mind form the inevitable
starting-point from which we must set out in order to study,

viii PEEFACE.

logically, the phenomena of irrational nature, and to investi
gate, if we may, their cause and purpose. There is no
doubt, in thus proceeding, a danger of Anthropomorphism—
of attributing to the First Cause merely human charac
teristics, and projecting as it were our personality, as in the
Brocken shadow, far beyond its proper limits ; but the
danger of Antanthropomorphism is at present much greater
—the danger, that is, of allowing the facts of reason to be
obscured and overshadowed by an analogously enlarged dis
tortion of the world of sense, which ever so clamorously
reiterates its claims on our attention and regard.

The following chapters are mainly reprints from articles
which have from time to time appeared in the ' Quarterly,'
'Dublin,' 'Contemporary,' and 'Fortnightly' Reviews be
tween June 1871 and November 1875. These various
articles, however, were originally written with the intention
that they should be augmented, re-arranged and repub-
lished in an assemblage of consecutive chapters as they
now appear.

ANALYTICAL TABLE OF CONTENTS.

CHAPTER I.

/ THE STARTING-POINT.

" Our own continued existence is a primary truth known to us with supreme
certainty, and this certainty cannot be denied without involving the destruction
of all knowledge whatever."

Reasons why the contemplation of nature has become a passion — Specula
tive activity of our age— Our need of a starting-point which cannot
be gainsaid — The study of mind an experimental science— The two
dangers of popular discussions— Authority has no place in philosophy
—Doubt only to be cured by investigation— Bewildering effect of the
present conflict of opinion— Expediency of stimulating a thorough in-
quiry— The Agnostic philosophy— Every philosophy of nescience stulti
fies itself— Yet is to be directly encountered. — On condition of admitting
three preliminary propositions— The first proposition — The second pro
position—The third proposition— The teaching of a leading .Agnostic as
to our knowledge of our own existence— His analysis incomplete— His
system can be destroyed by his own weapons— As considered in its
parts— And considered as a whole— Self-existence known primarily—
Self-existence implied in " certainty " itself— The refutation of nescience
not to be evaded on the ground of the inadequacy of language— A further
consequence— What the word " thought " implies— What truth is—
" Necessary " truth— The Agnostics' assertion, if valid, implies many
truths they deny— Logical consequences— What is implied in asserting
the trustworthiness of memory— A curious fallacy— Mr. Spencer's view
as to our knowledge of our own existence— He asserts a truism or an
absurdity— An illustration— An argumentum ad hominem— What he
asserts implies the existence of what he denies— Conclusion arrived at—
The first lesson from nature PP- 1~ 2B

x ANALYTICAL TABLE OF CONTENTS.

CHAPTER II.

FIRST TRUTHS.

" Knowledge must be based on the study of mental facts, and on undemon-
strable truths which declare their own absolute certainty, and are seen by the
mind to be positively and necessarily true."

Self-knowledge shows we can have absolute certainty without proof —
Reasons why we should begin with a study of mind before studying
external nature — And endeavour to harmonize our thoughts and feelings
— Some differences between these — Thought, not feeling, the test ot
truth — Balmes and Mr. Herbert Spencer as to the necessity of starting
with undemonstrablc truths — Mr. Spencer's test of ultimate truths,
false because merely negative — Two distinct classes of unimaginable
propositions — A fallacy of Professor Helmholtz — Mr. Spencer's example
of absolute inconceivability — Our perception of necessary truth not
limited by experience — Propositions positively seen to be necessarily
true — Summary of the propositions here arrived at — Mr. Bain's ulti
mate criterion of truth — The principle of contradiction denied by Mr.
Spencer, and the highest faculties of the human mind ignored — As also
by Mr. Lewes — The validity of our reasoning faculty — Mr. Lewes con
founds reasoning with sensible association — Summary and conclusion.

pp. 29—54

CHAPTEE III.

THE EXTERNAL WOULD.

"The real existence of an external world made up of objects possessing
qualities such as our faculties declare to us they do possess, cannot be looicalfv
denied and may rationally be affirmed."

A justification of our belief in the external world here logically required
— Prevalent scepticism on this subject amongst modern philosophers
and its cause— Mr. John Stuart Mill— Mr. Spencer's Transfigured Realism
—His justification of it— Outcome of it— His reply to criticism— Its
insufficiency— His proof-case as to sound— The truth of his affirmations
denied— Mr. Spencer's feply to the charge of fundamental incoherence
—Rejoinder to such reply— Need of a more detailed survey of his
positions — His observations on the relativity of our feelings— The
impossibility of logically denying the objective validity of our perceptions
as to even the secondary qualities of objects— Mr. Spencer on the rela
tivity of our relations between feelings— On the effects of structure

ANALYTICAL TABLE OF CONTENTS. xi

age, and state on relations of sequence — Ou the relation between our
perception of sequence, co-existence and difference, and their sensible
accompaniments — Mr. Spencer's view as to nervous relations — As to
the reality of an ontological order and nexus — Mr. Spencer's confusion
of the intellect with the sensible occasions of its activity — Mr. Lewes's
position — Agrees with Mr. Spencer fundamentally — Eecapitulation —
Conclusion, that we may securely repose on the declarations of our
senses as to the existence and properties of external objects pp. 55 — 81

CHAPTEE IV.

LANGUAGE.

" Rational language is a bond of connexion between the mental and materia.
worlds which is absolutely peculiar to man."

Language the bond between mind and matter — Language emotional and
rational — Rational language mental and bodily — Different categories
of language — External expression a necessary accompaniment of rational
animality — Prevalent confusion on the subject — Deaf mutes — Mr. Tylor
on savages — Sir John Lubbock — Conclusion . . pp. 82 — 94

CHAPTER V.

DUTY AND PLEASURE.

" Perceptions of right and wrong, and of our power of choice, and consequent
responsibility, are universally diffused amongst mankind, and constitute an absolute
character separating man from all other animals."

The existence of moral conceptions a fact of nature — Are such conceptions
universal amongst mankind ? — A definition of morality — The distinctness
of the conception generally admitted — Needful cautions — Examples of
morality in savages — Mr. Tylor and Sir John Lubbock — Do moral
judgments contradict one another? — The popular modern school im
plicitly denies morality — Mr. John Stuart Mill's self-contradiction in
this matter — The origin of the conception " right " — Materially and
formally moral acts — Mr. Darwin's view — That moral perceptions are
simply the more enduring instincts — Mr. Darwin's instances — Mr.
Huxley's reply to Mr. Darwin's critics — Free-will — Mr. Herbert Spencer's
views — Conclusion ....... pp. 95 — 127

xii ANALYTICAL TABLE OF CONTENTS.

CHAPTER VI.

MAN.

" The study of religious beliefs, of progress, or degradation, and of the community
of nature found in the most diverse races of men, show (together with language and
moral perception) that man differs fundamentally from brutes, while the anatomical
resemblances to animals which his frame exhibits in no way invalidate the
argument drawn from the study of mind, that his origin (like his nature) is
peculiar and distinct."

Other human characteristics to be studied besides language and moral per
ception—Special call now for this study— Two conflicting hypotheses-
Test questions for these— Three new subjects of inquiry —Preliminary
note — First new subject, religion— Prejudices— Mistakes— Savage faiths

Australians— Are the rudest religious ideas fundamentally like higher

ones ? — Sacrifice — Second new subject, progress — Mr. Mott's remarks —
Mr. Herbert Spencer's— Mr. Darwin's — Degradation certain — Adam —
His descendants— Rude people may be moral — Third new subject, com
munity of nature— Conclusions— Man's body— His embryonic develop
ment — Superficiality of Mr. Darwin's remarks on these subjects —
Necessary physical conditions of animal rationality, as to structure —
Man's resemblance to apes — As to development — Bearing of these matters
on man's origin — Mistakes as to reversion — Other mistakes — Mr. Darwin's
remarks as to insects — Man forms a kingdom by himself — Unity of human
races— What shall be the verdict as to man's origin? — Mr. Wallace's views
— Free-will— Conclusion .... pp. 128— 11)1

CHAPTEE VII.

THE BRUTE.

" The highest psychical powers of animals resemble the lower psychical faculties
of man. The brute is devoid of reason, and instinct is a peculiar function of the
material organism, automatic and blind."

Necessity of some recapitulation — Instinct, mode of studying it — The mode
in use generally defective — Reason for this — Results of introspection —
Organic and intellectual memory — List of the mind's higher powers —
Which are common to all mankind — Danger of a special fallacy — Instinct
cannot perform rational acts — But can do what reason cannot do — Mr.
Herbert Spencer's admissions — Mr. Darwin's anecdotes — As to brute ra
tionality — Parity of psychical nature between very different animals —
Professor Huxley on animal rationality — Mr. Lcwes's admissions — John
Miiller — Man's lower psychical faculties — List of them — Their relation
to the psychical faculties of brutes — The development of the individual

ANALYTICAL TABLE OF CONTENTS. Xin

— Human automatism — Curious views as to the nature of instinct —
What is instinct? — What it is — Unity of each organism — Definition of
instinct — Energy of matter — A new energy in man — Grounds of this
decision — Stupidity of animals — Conclusion . . pp. 192 — 243

CHAPTER VIII.

V LIKENESSES IX ANIMALS AND PLANTS.

" The facts of mimicry and of the various kinds of homology as exhibited in
comparative anatomy, teratology and pathology, reveal an internal force and
dynamic agency, the soul, in each animal, which forms one indissoluble unity with
its material frame."

Two kinds of likeness to be considered — Mimicry — 'Not to be explained by
accidental variations — This shown by plants — Second order of likenesses
— The number of these perceived varies with the direction of our attention
— Natural classification — Of parts and organs — Philosophical anatomists
— The vertebral theory of the skull — Analogous and homologous parts —
Likenesses not due to inheritance — Mr. Spencer's explanations — Indepen
dent similarities — Homoplasts and homoplasy — Catalogue of homologies
— Not due to the survival of the fittest — Evidences from comparative
anatomy — From teratology — From pathology — Teleology — A resurrec
tion — Development — Are there cranial vertebra ? — Amphioxus — The
answer — A deeper question — Homology reveals internal forces — Or
" soul " in each animal — Mr. Lewes — Conclusion . pp. 244 — 279

CHAPTER IX.

NATURAL SELECTION.

" The hypothesis of natural selection originally put forward as the origin of
species, has been really abandoned by Mr. Darwin himself, and is untenable. It
is a misleading positive term denoting negative effects, and, as made use of by those
who would attribute to it the origin of Man, is an irrational conception."

Futility of attempts to ignore internal forces — Origin of species, the author's
view — Mr. Darwin's original view — His later views — And admitted errors
— Consequent need of careful criticism — Professor Huxley's defence —
Points contended for by the author — Differ from Mr. Darwin's view —
What is and is not implied in man's animality — Mr. Wallace's claims
to originality — Mr. Francis Galton's view — Mr. Darwin's style — He begs
the question he argues — Conclusion as to " natural selection."

pp. 280—301

xiv ANALYTICAL TABLE OF CONTENTS.

CHAPTEE X.

SEXUAL SELECTION.

" Sexual selection is an hypothesis which neither has been nor can be proved
true, but the falsehood of which is demonstrated by a mass of zoological data."

Sexual selection, an accessory hypothesis— Has been made to include two
distinct things— Marked characters certainly arise independently of it
— Insects— Fishes and reptiles— Beasts— Birds — Voice — Mr. Wallace
opposes Mr. Darwin — His hypothesis as to colour — Mr. Darwin opposes
Mr. Wallace's hypothesis — Need of an internal force — Its sufficiency —
Mr. Darwin influenced by a priori views — An illustration — Uncertain
ties of the hypothesis— Sexual selection and man — Mr. Darwin's style
— Ancillary hypotheses needed — Conclusion as to sexual selection.

pp. 302—3,31

CHAPTER XI.

AN KP1SODK.

" Mr. Chauncey Wright's criticism of the author's views having been repub-
lished and widely circulated by Mr. Darwin, the reply to that criticism is here
reproduced."

A digression induced by special circumstances — May be passed over without
detriment to the general argument — Mr. Chauncey Wright's criticism —
Mainly addressed to two points — The first of these — Sudden adaptive
modifications — Improper interpretations — Mr. Wright's second point —
Design and accident — Innate force — The inductive philosophy — Mr.
Wright on intellectual genius — The giraffe's neck — An advantage pos
sessed by Mr. Darwin's theory which does not properly belong to it —
Critical details — An objection singular in a mathematician — An illustra
tion in the growth of a tree — Vital forces — Verbal criticisms — Conclusion.

pp. 332—355

CHAPTER XII.

CAUSES.

"Truths vouched for by the intellect as positively necessary truths, compel our
acceptance of a First Cause with power, knowledge, wisdom and goodness, and
therefore prove the existence of final causes also — the existence of a personal
God being the ultimate lesson taught by Nature, that as to its own cause."

The axiom of causation — Science points to no beginning — But either to a
Pantheistic first cause — Or one distinct from the universe — Together with
final causation— Thus supplying a key to evolution— Mr! Spencer's
evolutionary formula—" Purpose " as shown in Nature— Formal law of

ANALYTICAL TABLE OF CONTENTS. xv

evolution — Non-theistic views — Mr. Spencer's — Professor Huxley's — The
unknowable— Five objections to theism— First objection, prodigality of
Nature — An old answer — Second objection — Third objection, pain and
death— Sufferings of brutes— Apparently unworthy phenomena— Fourth
objection, evolution negatives creation — Fifth objection, anthropomor
phism — Conclusion. . . PP- 356 — 376

CHAPTEB XIII.

CONSEQUENCES.

"The consequences which flow from the acceptance or rejection of the teach
ing here advocated are and must be most momentous both to individuals and
the community. Those who reject it are logically driven into extreme and
irrational negation. Its bearing upon conduct is direct, and must necessarily
powerfully affect the future through popular education. Such consequences may
rationally serve to reinforce conclusions before arrived at on other grounds."

Various consequences, speculative and practical — Consequences of contro
versies before noticed — As to the Ego — As to the will — As to God — The
immortality of the soul — Two phraseologies— Peculiar nature of man's
soul — Consequences of rejecting Theism — Professor Tyndall's teaching —
Mr. Spencer's teaching— Professor Huxley's teaching— Other declarations

General result — Intolerance of modern infidels— Atheism inconsistent

with toleration— Practical consequences — Is truth necessarily desirable ?
—Some propositions with ethical applications— Purity of intention-
Sexual relations — Conduct in public men less influential than teaching
— An objection to legal restrictions on marriage — Consequences as
regards popular education — The Rev. William Mackintosh — A positive
compromise — Need of a belief in future rewards and punishments — Two
ambiguities — Education should stimulate the highest powers — Motives
which move men to act— M. Le Play— Responsibility of public teachers
— Characters of the Agnostic philosophy— Dislike of religion sometimes
induces the acceptance of that philosophy— Conclusion. pp. 377 — 421

CHAPTEB XIV.

A I'OSTSCRIIT.

" This postscript is called for by an unamended republication by Professor
Huxley of his criticism on the ' Genesis of Species,' of which he in part misappre
hends, in part misrepresents the arguments. A Theist should anticipate a
revelation. The Christian revelation asserts creation, but at the same time lays
down principles which so harmonize with Evolution that no contradiction can
arise in this respect between its doctrines and physical science. This harmony
must be preordained."

This postscript specially called for — Reason expects revelation — Modern
philosophy has diverged from this attitude — Mr. Spencer and evolution
— Evolution welcomed by Antichristians — Rational attitude of a Theist

v\ ANALYTICAL TABLE OF CONTENTS.

towards religious systems— Christianity asserts creation— The Genesis
of Species— And Professor Huxley— A misapprehension— His astonish
ment—Another misapprehension— An explanation— Suarez— The fact
of creation— Another misapprehension— Want of acquaintance with
theology— Authorities— An utter mistake— Solvitur ambulando— Chris
tianity and reason— Mode of controversy— Restatement of issue- A
retrospect and conclusion . PP- 422 44fl

INDEX . ... p. 451

LESSONS FROM NATURE.

CHAPTER I.

THE STARTING-POINT.

" Our own continued existence is a primary truth naturally made
known to us with supreme certainty, and this certainty cannot be
denied without involving the destruction of all knowledge whatever."

THE philosophic contemplation of nature may be said to
be a passion of the age in which we live. Nor is ReaSOns*hy
the reason why, far to seek. Every physical science, p^tioiTof1"
when once its study is fairly begun, never fails tecomVr*
to excite much interest, and in our day a certain pas:
knowledge of physical science has become widely diffused.
Most popular sciences, zoology, botany, and geology, &c.,
can be followed \\ith ease by all commonly gifted minds, and
the beauty, variety, and inexhaustible multitude of the facts
and relations they disclose are such as may well make that
interest become intense and absorbing. But when it is re
collected that to the attraction these sciences possess in them
selves there is now added the interest called forth by the
generally diffused belief (whether rightly or wrongly enter
tained) that by these much light may be thrown upon the
deepest problems and the most important questions which
can occupy men's minds, it becomes easy to understand
why a very large part of our popular lectures and of our
periodical literature should be devoted to subjects of natural
history, so treated as to bear, directly or by implication,

2 LESSONS FROM NATURE. [CHAP. I.

upon questions of origin and agency and purpose ; devoted,
in short, to physical philosophy. The problem of the true
relation subsisting between irrational and rational nature is
the problem of the day. An endeavour then will here be made
to elucidate what are the lessons taught us by a combined
study of nature in its two aspects, rational and irrational.

It is probable that the last quarter of a century has, in
speculative England, seen a more quickly growing and more
ourvagl°f wide-spread crop of speculative questioning than
any former period of like duration. More than this, it is
doubtful whether any period of the world's past history has
witnessed a more general uncertainty, not only respecting the
solution of particular problems, but us to the possibility of
satisfactorily and certainly answering any one of them.

Thus it has come about that from increased speculative
activity, and the inability of physical science to satisfy the
questions raised, men devoted to physical science have been
forced into philosophy. "Metaphysics," which had become
(especially in this country) a byword of reproach, are again
avowedly pursued. A reaction has set in, and the importance
of philosophy, indeed its absolute necessity as a basis for
science, is made manifest by the most popular teachers of
physical knowledge. On the Continent, Buchner, Vogt,
Hartmann, and Strauss have powerfully aided in directing
popular attention to philosophical problems. In England, in
spite of the oft-repeated assertions of the unprogressiveness
of metaphysics, and the comparisons drawn between the
efforts of metaphysicians and those of Sisyphus, our book
shelves teem with evidence that devotion to philosophy is on
the increase amongst us, and physicists such as Carpenter,
Bence Jones, Bastian, Huxley, Tyndall, Darwin, Wallace,
with many more, have all, in various degrees, wandered
beyond the domain which is specially their own into the
metaphysical region. Even that annual national congress,
which was instituted expressly for the promotion of physical
science, had its session of 1872 inaugurated by an address on
" the mental processes by which are formed those fundamental

CHAP. L] THE STARTING-POINT. 3

conceptions of matter and force, of cause and effect, of law
and order, which form the basis of all reasoning ; " while, at
Belfast, in 1874 it was opened by what may be fitly termed
a sermon advocating the deliberate substitution of a religion
of emotion for one of reason. Professor Huxley, some years
ago,* bore witness to the needfulness of attending " to those
philosophical questions which underlie all physical science ; "
and he has again and again availed himself of his well-earned
popularity to press upon his hearers metaphysical considera
tions, and to endeavour to make plain to them that the
questions of really supreme importance are such as are
philosophical.

In entering upon an inquiry which professes, as does
this, to take nothing for granted unnecessarily our need of a

.,, ... . J starting-

or without criticism, we must be careful that our point which

. . . cannot be

starting-point, in our investigation of nature, shall gainsaid.
be thoroughly satisfactory — containing truth which is ab
solutely unquestionable. Such a starting-point is supplied
us by our passing mental states— the facts of consciousness
itself. It is conceivable that the whole external world, and
all existences external to ourselves, might be delusions, but
everybody can see that while we actually have a feeling
we must have it, and that no supernatural being could cause
us to be thinking that which we at the same time do not
think, or not to think anything while we are actually con
tinuing to think it. Here, then, in consciousness itself we
have a perfectly satisfactory starting-point, a firm rock
which may serve as the corner-stone of a future edifice.
Such an edifice we may find it possible to raise by inquiring
into the activity of our own mind, by finding what it declares
to be ultimate and certain truths (if it declares any to be such),
by criticising the tests given as to such truths being certain
and ultimate, and by examining the grounds on which we are,
if at all, to accept such declarations as true, having, at the
same time, seen what truth itself really is.

* 'Contemporary Review,' November 1871, pp. 443, 444.

B 2

4 LESSONS FROM NATURE. [CHAP. I.

This task may appear a difficult and tedious one, but after
,of all it is one which comes strictly within the field of

1 116 Slimy ui i • i 11 x~U. 4-

mernimentai~ the experimental sciences, and is actually the most
certain science of them all. Its inductions repose
upon the most direct of observations, and its deductions are
tested by experiments of the most decisive kind. Whether
« metaphysics" be or be not a cloud-land, this particular
inquiry is at least to be made on firm ground, under a clear
sky, and in bright sunlight. Before, however, entering upon
the first inquiry, a preliminary caution may not be out of
place. A widely extended discussion of philosophical ques-
Thet.odan- tions such as that which now obtains is manifestly
Lev dtacS?u" °Pen to two dangers, the one, a " hasty dogmatism,"
sums. tke Other, an " irrational scepticism." It is common

enough to find writers (such, e.g., as Professor Clifford) speak
ing in so dogmatic a tone that the unwary are in danger of
mistaking confident assertion for proof, while the many, ever
prone jurare in verba magistri, are but too apt to adopt them
selves the dogmatic style merely on the authority of their
chosen masters. For such, a judicious scepticism is the
necessary remedy.

More common, however, is the danger of " irrational
scepticism." And here a word of explanation may be ad
dressed to those who may be offended by this phrase, fancy
ing (in spite of the concluding phrase of the last paragraph)
that I may deem "scepticism" to be generally "irrational."
But it is manifest that in philosophy, reason, and reason only,
is and must be the supreme and ultimate arbiter.

Authority ,

has no place j?or a}| those who are convinced that truth is

in philoso-

Phy- necessarily good, it is even wrong to accept any

thing whatever as true which has not been made evident to
the intellect. For such, no authority, however venerable, no
consequences, however calamitous, as long as they do not in

volve a contradiction, can or ought to stand in the

Doubt only to
ured
istiga- - -

results the processes 01 reason. As a consequence,

Uoubtoniyto . . .

be cured by Wav of pitiless logic in tollowing out to their nnal

investiga- ,,5 f *

tion. results the processes 01 reason. As a consequence,

when any man has become a victim to doubt, he has no

CHAP. I.] THE STARTING-POINT. 5

rational choice, as lie has no duty, but to reason out his
doubts to the end : to seek to escape them by diverting
his attention, or to obscure them by calling up a cloud
of emotion, is not only useless but blameworthy. As it is
for an individual so is it for a people. And if, as in England
in the present day, we see a generation restlessly seeking on
all sides, in a night of doubt, for the first glimmerings of a
corning dawn, surely hearty sympathy and ready aid are
called for in favour of men who show by such restlessness and
questioning how they are seeking to gain a knowledge of
truth which was at least never lost through any act or deed
of theirs.

Now at the present time Englishmen are again and again
called upon to treat as open questions the very first Bewiwennj?

. . , - -n • j» J x 1 ± 1.1 " effect of the

principles of all reasoning, fundamental truths upon present con-
which the whole fabric of science reposes. And as opinion.
but a small minority of the lecture-hearing, magazine-reading
public can be supposed to have seriously taken up the study
of philosophy, it follows that a certain number will fail to
distinguish accurately between a healthy and an unhealthy
scepticism. Not being accustomed to sound the depths of
their own minds, and puzzled by the paradoxes of the sophists
who now and again address them, some lose their hold upon
all certainty and fall into a state of general doubt which is
so undefined that it does not formulate itself in distinct pro
positions. Hence we too often encounter a vague and hazy
scepticism, producing a languid and otiose state of mind which
is, indeed, a symptom of incipient intellectual paralysis.

But since our object is to seek for certain positive truth,
and to build up logically on such certain basis, it is Expediency

„ , , . ofstimulat-

needful to rouse attention, as tar as may be, to tins ingutho-
enfeebling disease — a mental falling-sickness. In quiry. "
the presence of this evil it is surely well to try and drive
such loiterers along the philosophic road, and to force on
them an earnest and resolute questioning of themselves,
so that they may know clearly that they do know what
they know, and that they may not be persuaded unawares

6 LESSONS FEOM NATURE. [CHAP. I.

out of their rational birthright. It is, of course, important
that men should not be permitted to build upon a fancied
knowledge which has not enough solidity to sustain the
philosophical edifice; but it is certainly no less important
that men should not be led to follow unsuspectingly an ignis
fatuus till it plunges them into a quagmire of " universal
doubt." To exaggerate our powers is dangerous, but to be
possessed by a feeling of our utter impotence is fatal.

Now there is a school of philosophy (by courtesy so called)
The Agnostic of considerable popularity, which is called by its

osophy. Opp0nents tne « philosophy of nescience " — a name,
however, which its supporters would hardly disclaim. They
would hardly disclaim it because some of them willingly
style themselves " Agnostics," or " know-nothings ;" meaning
thereby that they know and can know nothing but appear
ances, and that nothing whatever can be really and absolutely
known. Yet, very irrationally these know-nothings or
Agnostics at the same time very confidently affirm that
they, by their ignorance, absolutely and infallibly know that
the healthy common sense of mankind has gone all wrong,
and, what is more extraordinary still, that the greatest
philosophers have perversely joined in accepting the common-
sense delusions of the vulgar, and gone wrong too. Such
philosophers have, indeed, agreed with the rest of mankind
in affirming the certainty of their own continued existence
and that of their fellow-men, together with an external world,
the shape, number, and extent of the parts of which they
declare they can really and absolutely know, in so far as such
parts can be brought under the observation of their senses.

The Agnostics form a section of that school (including
Hamilton, Mansel, Mill, Lewes, Spencer, Huxley, and Bain)
which asserts the relativity — i.e., the merely phenomenal
character — of all our knowledge.

But every philosophy, every system of knowledge, must start
Every phiio- with the assumption (implied or expressed) that
nescience something is really " knowable " — that something is

stultifies it- 111 5 » i i

" absolutely true ; and by this Agnostic school it is

CHAP. I.] THE STARTING-POINT. 7

evidently taught that the doctrine of the " relativity of all
our knowledge " is a doctrine which is really and absolutely
true. But if nothing that we can know corresponds with
reality, if nothing we can assert has a more than relative or
phenomenal value, this character must also appertain to the
doctrine of the relativity of all our knowledge. Either this
system of philosophy itself is relative and phenomenal only,
or it is absolutely and objectively true. But it must be
merely phenomenal if everything known is merely pheno
menal. Its value, then, can be only relative and pheno
menal ; that is, it has no absolute value, does not correspond
with objective reality, and is therefore false. But if it is
false that our knowledge is only relative, then some of our
knowledge must be absolute ; but this negatives the funda
mental position of the whole philosophy. Any philosophy,
then, which starts with the assertion that all our knowledge
is merely phenomenal refutes itself, and is necessarily
suicidal. Every assertor of such a philosophy must be in
the position of a man who saws across the branch of a tree,
on which he actually sits, at a point between himself and the
trunk. If he would save himself he must refrain from
destroying that which alone sustains him in his elevated
position.

Waiving, however, this objection, it is proposed to examine
here some of the assertions of the know-nothing J^^6
philosophy, with a view of testing the validity of countered.
its fundamental assertions and seeing how far some of its
so-called " explanations " are really explanatory or instructive.
This examination, however, is not undertaken with the
barren purpose of refuting an irrational brain-puzzle, but
with the hope and intention of bringing out clearly a primary
fact of consciousness in its most important bearings, and so
establishing a good starting-point for our whole treatise — a
foundation revealed to us by the study of nature as it exists
in us, in our own mind.

Before, however, consenting to enter the arena with the
Agnostics, it will be well to notice shortly three preliminary

8 LESSONS FKOM NATUBE. [CHAP. I.

considerations in order to maintain three propositions, assent
on condition to which must be a sine qua non to farther dis-
thm^pre-"5 cussion, as without such assent discussion would be

liminarypro- ... ,, .

positions. an aimless and iutile waste ot time.

The first of these considerations relates to " absolute scepti
cism ;" and the first proposition is that such scepticism, with
every position which necessarily involves it, is to be regarded
as an absurdity. The second consideration relates to good
faith and economy of time in controversy ; and the second
proposition is that no position is to be defended which cannot
be believed to be really and seriously maintained by some
one. The third consideration refers to language ; and the
third proposition is that what is distinctly and clearly con
ceived by the mind can be expressed by terms practically
adequate to convey such conceptions to other minds.

The first preliminary consideration to be insisted on may
be stated thus : —

I. Absolute scepticism, with every position that necessarily
involves it, is to l)e rejected as an absurdity.

The truth contained in this assertion serves to clear away
The first pro- a liinderance which otherwise might at first, and
indeed continually, impede our progress. This
hinderance consists in a haziness as to the necessary limits
of all discussion, hiding the point at which all controversy
becomes unmeaning — nay, logically impossible. Before dis
cussing any fundamental questions, the truth that discussion
is, as a fact, possible should be clearly recognised, as also
that there is such a thing as truth, and that some conclusions
are true. Without this recognition, whatever conclusions
we arrive at may be vitiated by a latent doubt whether any
conclusion on any subject can under any circumstances be
ever valid. If nothing is certain, if there is no real dis
tinction between truth and falsehood, there can, of course, be
no useful discussion. If any man is not certain, absolutely
certain, that he is not a tree or the rustle of its leaves ; if he
is not certain that there are such things as thoughts and

CHAP. I.] THE STAETING-POINT. 9

words, and that the same word can be employed twice with
the same meaning, as also that he is the same person when
he ends a sentence as he was when he began it, he cannot
carry on even a rational monologue ; and if he really doubts
as to whether an opponent has substantially the same powers
of understanding and expression as he has himself — no con
troversy can be reasonably undertaken. If our life may be
a dream within a dream, if we may not be supremely sure
that a thing cannot both le and not le — at the same time and
in the same sense — then thinking may indeed be affirmed to
be an idle waste of thought, were it not impossible to affirm
that anything is or is not anything, and as impossible to
affirm such impossibility. Such scepticism is, of course, as
practically impossible as it is absurd. Doubt may be
expressed as to the validity of all intellectual acts, but any
attempt to defend the sceptical position thereby actually
demonstrates a belief in such validity on the very part of
him who would verbally deny it. Familiar as will be these
reflections, it seems nevertheless desirable to dwell upon
them, that their truth may be clearly brought home. For
it follows (and this is an important consequence) that if
any premisses logically and necessarily result in such absolute
scepticism they may be disproved by a redudio ad alsurdum.
This is so because absolute scepticism cannot be even
believed (since to believe it would be ipso facto to deny it
by asserting the certainty of uncertainty), and is absurd, and
no reasoning which necessarily leads to absurdity can be
valid in the eyes of those who, not being themselves absolute
sceptics, are certain that utter absurdity and absolute truth
are not one and the same.

The second preliminary assertion is as follows : —

II. Propositions are not to le defended which cannot be even

conceived to le seriously entertained ly some one.
This assertion serves to discriminate between real and
verbal doubt. There is, of course, nothing which The second

,. i 11 rni • i proposition.

cannot be called m question verbally. I he exist-

10 LESSONS FKOM NATURE. [CHAP. I.

ence of " self" has been declared to be a thing which may be
doubted but not the existence of " thought." It is just as
easy, however, to say, " I doubt whether thought exists," as
to say, "I doubt whether I exist;" but it is as impossible
for any one to believe that his existence is doubtful as to
believe that the existence of thought is doubtful. The limits
of rational discussion, then, we must insist, are facts which
cannot be really doubted— sue truths which no one can ac
tually ignore. To attempt to go beyond such limits is to
fall into mere puerility and verbiage. Merely verbal doubts
are as trifling as endless. We have a right to demand that
we should only be challenged by doubts which are really and
truly entertained by those who propose them, or are regarded
by them as at least possibly real — in fact, that our time
should not be taken up by answering the ingenious cavils of
merely pretended sceptics. Can we believe that any one of
our opponents has any real and serious doubt as to his own
true and objective personal existence and his own personal
identity? Each may certainly be credited with a total
absence of any such absurd dubitation, and this because no one
out of Bedlam doubts really as to his own being and personal
identity, however much he may amuse himself by professing
to distrust such declarations of his consciousness and memory.
Will any such opponent seriously affirm that he is not certain
that he was not last year the Emperor of Eussia, or the boiler
of the Great Eastern, or that he is not absolutely sure that
he has not actually been all the various people or things
which have from time to time presented themselves to his
imagination ?

And here perhaps a protest may be permitted against a
mode of representing thought which is eminently misleading.
Messrs. Mill, Bain, and Herbert Spencer agree in represent
ing that men are only conscious of a succession of feelings.
Now, in limine, an objection may be made to the term "feeling"
as the one generic name for all states of consciousness. It
may be so because the word " feeling " is intimately associated
in ordinary language with sensation. Thus to assert or

CHAP. 1.] THE STARTING-POINT.

imply that all our states of consciousness are feelings, tends
to insinuate a belief that we have no faculty but " sensation."
This is not the precise meaning of the above-mentioned
writers, but it is a meaning likely to be given to their words
by very many, and it is therefore an abuse of language. To
say that we have a feeling that two sides of a triangle are
greater than the third side, is to use the word not only in a
non-natural but in a misleading sense.

The third preliminary operation will stand thus : —

III. Whatever can he distinctly conceived l>y the mind can le
communicated to others by articulate speech.

At the end of a controversy with Agnostics they may turn
round upon their opponents and deny the validity The third
of any conclusions arrived at on the ground of the propos)
inadequacy of articulate speech to express their deepest —
their primary — conceptions and convictions. To avoid this
denial, it is desirable to point out that unless Agnostics are
prepared to admit the validity of "oral words" as used in
their discussions and investigations, they should abstain alto
gether from such discussions. They should so abstain, since,
unless the " spoken word " can be made to correspond in a
practically sufficient manner with the thoughts conceived,
there can be no communication of such thoughts, and every
man is bound not to tax the time and attention of hearers or
readers by arguments which he knows are necessarily absurd
and futile, and by phrases arid expressions which he is aware
cannot but be empty and unmeaning — a necessarily resultless
logomachy. It may be confidently affirmed that no sane
man really believes that what he distinctly conceives he can
in no way articulately convey to others with practical accu
racy and sufficiency ; but should any men profess to believe
in such impotence of verbal expression, then they are clearly
bound to abstain from controversy altogether, and not inflict
on us expressions of opinion which are in the opinion of their
very utterers, necessarily misleading, and verbal judgments

12 LESSONS FROM NATURE. [CHAP. I.

which are inevitably false— nny, avowed inanities. Of course
it is open to any Agnostic to employ language for the purpose
of showing that the use of language leads us inevitably to
necessary contradictions ; but the effect of such a demonstra
tion, if it could be made, would be not to establish any positive
system whatever, but to land us in utter and hopeless scepti
cism, and to invalidate every argument even of the Agnostic
himself. Every writer, then, who professes seriously to
dispute concerning metaphysical problems, thereby tacitly
avows that his mental conceptions can be validly expressed
by his spoken (or written) words. He shows by his invita
tion to discussion, not only that he believes himself to have
attained philosophical conceptions which seem to him sound
and true, but also that he believes himself capable of con
veying those truths, by language, to the apprehensions of his
fellow-men — since any one who invites to any inquiry is
bound to have first satisfied himself that such inquiry can
in fact be made. An argumentum ad hominem may then be
well addressed to any Agnostic who objects to his own refuta
tion on the ground of the necessary inadequacy of language.
Having, then, noticed these three preliminary considera-
The teaching tions, we may proceed to test some of the utterances
Agnostic as of prominent leaders of the philosophy of nescience
ledge of our on a point of the highest importance to us, namely,

own exist- . ° J '

ence. our own existence. Professor Huxley not long ago *

expressed himself as follows : — " Now, is our knowledge of
anything we know or feel, more or less than a knowledge of
states of consciousness ? And our whole life is made up of
such states. Some of these states we refer to a cause we call
'self;' others to a cause or causes which may be compre
hended under the title ' not-self.' But neither of the exist
ence of ' self,' nor of that of ' not-self,' have we, or can we by
any possibility have, any such unquestionable and immediate
certainty as we have of the states of consciousness which we con
sider to be their effects." They are " hypothetical assumptions

* ' Lay Sermons,' Descartes, p. 359.

CHAP. I.] THE STARTING-POINT. 13

which cannot be proved or known with the highest degree of
certainty which is given by immediate consciousness."

Now it may, in the first place, be contended that the pro
cess of analysis is incomplete. It may be denied His analysis

... -i . -i • f incomplete.

altogether that in the primary direct act ot con
sciousness we recognise the truth of the existence of the
" state " one bit more than of the " self." Professor Huxley
fails to discriminate between the "self" as recognised deli
berately by reflection, and the "self" as directly perceived
in the momentary act of consciousness. The " self " indeed,
the substantial continuous being as deliberately perceived, is
only explicitly recognised by reflection, and in so far as he
may mean this, Professor Huxley is right. But the "Ego"
of each instant is given by consciousness simultaneously with
its " state," and just as vividly. If, therefore, the " continuous
self" is thus admitted to be secondary, nothing is thereby
conceded. For though the continuous substantial "self" is
not given in the momentary act of consciousness explicitly,
it is there implicitly.

Our immediate direct consciousness is neither the act of
judgment, " mental state exists," nor the judgment, " self
exists;" but is the simple apprehension of self-action, or
(self -f- state), and both "self" and " state" require reflection
for their EXPLICIT recognition. To say that the explicit
recognition of the existence of the " state " is prior to or
more certain than the explicit recognition of the existence of
the " Ego " is false in fact, and contradicts the affirmations
of our own consciousness.

But not only does Professor Huxley fail to reach the true
dicta of consciousness, he also fails entirely in his ms system

can be de-

endeavour to construct an intelligible statement of stroyed by

0 his own

primary truth, even according to his own concep- weapons,
tions. As will, it is believed, shortly appear, instead of
presenting us with a more intelligible system than that tra
ditionally taught us, he ends by presenting for our accept
ance what is strictly and absolutely non-sense. He appears
to consider he has done away with baseless philosophical

14 LESSONS FEOM NATUEE. [CHAP. I.

dogmas, and substituted for them an exposition of simple
truth ; but, in fact, he presents us with dogmas of his own
fully as mysterious as any he conceives he has destroyed. The
old system, baseless or not, threw light upon the facts of
psychology, of which it afforded an intelligible explanation.
Professor Huxley's dogmas are not only, to say the least,
as open to attack, but, if admitted, fail to be of any service
in interpreting or making intelligible to us the phenomena
presented to us by our own intellectual activity.

Mr. John Stuart Mill admits* the existence of the mind
in the form of a " thread of consciousness," " aware of itself
as past and future," and possessing a conviction of the simul
taneous existence of other " threads of consciousness " and
of numerous " permanent possibilities of sensation."

Professor Huxley seems to agree with the last-named
writer as to the certainty of the existence of a series of states
of consciousness.

It seems, however, that the proposition which Professor
Huxley affirms is to the full as assailable as the position
which the Professor attacks. He appears to think he has
entrenched himself behind bulwarks impregnable against
the assaults of others still more sceptical than he is
himself. His ultimate citadel is not, however, a bit more
tenable by its defenders than the fortresses which they
profess to have reduced. If we may legitimately call in
question the existence of "self" and "not-self "—to say
nothing of mind, matter, and a real external world— then the
very same weapons which are believed to have been success- •
fully employed to demolish the necessary objective validity
of those conceptions, may be employed with not less force to
shatter this last refuge of «' philosophical dogmatism." For
what is the meaning of the proposition, the truth of which
all these writers agree in regarding as unquestionable ?—« a
series of states of consciousness exists."

Before examining this proposition as a whole, let us

'Mill upon Hamilton,' p. 212.

CHAP. I.J THE STARTING-POINT. 15

consider its several parts. Writers of the school we combat
— the Agnostics — are exceedingly apt quietly to AS con-

° J r l sidered in its

slip into the terms of a proposition those very pans.
conceptions and beliefs the validity of which they deny.
Let us, then, see what is the meaning of the expressions, " a
series," " states of consciousness," and " exists."

1. A "series" means a succession of entities, in time or
space ; but consciousness is of the present* Let us be ever so
persuaded of the existence of a past series of events, all that
consciousness can by any possibility tell us is that we have
now such persuasion, and this persuasion — for all conscious
ness by itself can vouch — may be the merest delusion. But,
again, "succession" implies "permanence." It is a relation
of which permanence is a necessary term. Things cannot
succeed except by relation to something which endures.
Much, therefore, is implied in the mere exclamation, " a
series ! " without the conception of, and a belief in, more
than momentary "states of consciousness," this very first
term of the proposition is without meaning.

2. " States of consciousness !" What can be the meaning
of this undecipherable hieroglyphic — for such it is if we
may employ nothing but direct states of consciousness to
unravel it? How can a "state" be conscious of itself?
It cannot, for by so doing, it ipso facto becomes another
state. WTe may ask Nescients what they can mean on their
hypothesis, even by the naked term "consciousness" itself,
a fortiori, by what right they assume the actual being
of this abstract entity, and attribute to it an existence both

* Mr. Herbert Spencer denies that consciousness is of the actual present,
but of the moment just passed. This contradicts at least what my own mind
tells me, when I concentrate my attention on any object. However, con
ceding the truth of Mr. Spencer's dictum, my argument is equally valid, for
without question if consciousness is not of the actual present, it is of such an
immediate past as to persuade most persons that it is of the actual present.
But Mr. H. Spencer's position, far from weakening my general argument as
to the conscious endurance of the Ego, strengthens it. For if each state is
passed before it is recognised, then a fortiori the Ego must persist, and have
the power of certainly knowing that of which it is not immediately conscious,
or how could it ever recognise the various states as belonging to it, and say
with perfect certainty, "now I am thinking?"

16 LESSONS FROM NATURE. [CHAP. 1.

capable of modification and actually modified. We must
surely go outside of mere direct states of consciousness — we
must assume the existence of the substantial self, in order
to be able to give any sort of intelligible meaning to this
second term of the proposition.

3. " Exists ! " Finally, let us consider this last word of
the proposition. It asserts the existence of something, and
necessarily implies a judgment as to that something by a
mind which perceives such existence. The necessity of
these implied relations is just as certain as is that of the
existence predicated, whatever it may be.

But if difficulties arise even with regard to the component
And con- members of the proposition, " a series of states of
whole. consciousness exists," what shall we say to that
judgment as a whole ? Surely no metaphysical formula was
ever more open to objection.

How can " a series " be conscious of itself as a series ? *
The proposition is absolute "non-sense." A state of con
sciousness is a state of consciousness, and no more. We,
indeed, may be aware of our own past states, but such states
cannot themselves be conscious, for direct consciousness is of
the present, or if of the immediate past, then only through
and by means of a persistent, enduring Ego. The writers
named, therefore, are guilty of what, on their principles, is
an utterly unjustifiable dogmatism in asserting that a series
of states of consciousness exists. All they can be justified in
individually asserting is "thought exists;" but no jot or
tittle will pitiless logic allow them to proceed beyond this
without falling into the most flagrant petitio principii, passing
into a transcendentalism of their own, and a positive supersti
tion. Though each one may assert " thought exists," he is
unable to affirm thought existed. All he can be warranted
in saying is, "a thought exists of a past thought having
existed ;" but no guarantee can be devised for the truth of
such thoughts, except upon principles the validity of which

* Mr. Mill fully admits this difficulty. See Ms work ou ' Hamilton,' p. 213.

CHAP. I.] THE STAETING-POINT. 17

the writers referred to deny. " Self " and " not-self," therefore,
do not fall alone, but with them every train of thought and
every process of reasoning, for no one thought can guarantee
the existence of a process of reasoning, still less its validity.
Thus absolute scepticism is the logical and inevitable fate of
all professing Agnosticism, unless they abandon their un
tenable and anti-rational principles. It may, however, be
said that certainty is not denied as to the existence of " self,"
but only " the highest degree of certainty."

Professor Huxley tells us this certainty is not of "the
highest degree," inasmuch as it is not " given " to us by
"immediate consciousness." Something, however, may be
said in direct contradiction to this, and in support of the
assertion that though both the existence of " a state of con
sciousness " and the existence of " self" are known seif-exist-
with complete certainty, yet that the existence of pSmamyT11
self is known primarily, and therefore with a higher degree
of certainty. Both are, indeed, directly perceived by the
mind implicitly in the cognition "thinking self;" both are
explicitly recognised only by a reflex act. Nevertheless, the
"self" can be known in the order of reflection purely as an
existing entity ; but " a state of consciousness " cannot be
known in that order but as appertaining to some existing
mind, which, in the metaphysical order, is primary to it.
The primary act of reflex knowledge reveals "self" to us,
whereas the reflex recognition of" mental states " shows them
to us as states and modifications of the yet more primarily
(in the reflex order) and thoroughly known " self." I there
fore join issue with Professor Huxley, and affirm the direct
contradictory to his assertions. I maintain that we know
ourselves with supreme certainty, and that we know our
several mental modifications (though we know them with
certainty) with a certainty which is subordinate and
secondary in degree. But waiving this reply, it may be
affirmed that if so much certainty be allowed as to eliminate
all doubt, and to rationally require unhesitating acquiescence
on our part in all we do and say and think, all is conceded

18 LESSONS FROM NATURE. [CHAP. 1.

which we need demand. Now, whatever be its validity,
certainty as a fact exists, and no fact is a more sure one
for each of us than that of his own continued personal
identity. No conviction is more constantly and uniformly
acted on by us. As full and complete a practical acquiescence
is given to the conception, " self exists," as to the belief that
" a series of states of consciousness exists;" and were any one
to refuse this practical acquiescence, then, unable to act, dis
course, or reason, he would be shut up in his sterile and
solitary direct thought.

But what is this certainty of which they speak ? Is it
itself a thought ? And if so, what does one thought

tainty

implied

cer- know about another thought ? and which thought of

the two is it which has the knowledge? Thoughts
are not permanent, but progressive. To say that thought
exists is itself a figure of speech. It really means, " some
thing exists which thinks." To know is not to be knowledge,
but to acquire and possess it, To have implies two factors,
not one alone. Certainty, again, without an " I " who is
certain, is as impossible as doubt without a doubter.

As before observed, however, it will perhaps be reioined that
The refuta a^ ^ie f°regoJDg objections to Agnosticism are only
ci°ncef58tu P088^6 °" account of the exigencies of language ;
t^VgTomVof and though it is impossible for advocates of nesci-
qu*cylof" ence to enunciate verbally their principles, yet that

these principles are none the less true for all that,
and that it is grammar, and not reality and reason, which
reduces them to this impotence. To this it may be once
more replied that the spoken word is but the expression of
the mental concept ; and that there is nothing which can be
clearly and distinctly perceived which cannot be articulately
expressed and conveyed to other minds by language good
and sufficient for the purposes to which it is applied. What
was said in the opening of this paper, however, demonstrates
to what this objection amounts. It amounts simply to the
assertion that fundamental truth is what can neither be con
ceived by the mind nor expressed by words, and consequently

CHAP. I.] THE STARTING-POINT. 19

that everything on this subject which can be either said or
thought is necessarily and inevitably fundamentally untrue.
In other words, Nescients are thus again reduced to absolute
scepticism by another road ; and, indeed, that inevitable gulf
yawns to receive them by whatever path they seek to escape
from their position, save and except that one road which, they
refuse to follow, and to follow which is to vindicate the truth
and validity of human reason. Thus I venture to think the
real scope and meaning of the philosophy of nescience may be
made plain. Denying the necessary validity and objective
truth of our cognitions of "self" and "not-self/' Nescients
may logically be reduced to one present thought, and ren
dered incapable, logically, of attack or defence, uncertain
whether reason and memory may not be the most baseless of
chimeras, their whole life "a dream within a dream," or even
their very consciousness the sport of a deceptive and malig
nant demon. Such indeed is, I venture to believe, the
necessary ultimate outcome of the philosophy of all those
who, following the example of Descartes, abandon the high
road of philosophy, properly so called, for the lonely by-paths
of individual eccentricity. Let them grant, on the other
hand, that our spontaneous belief in our own existence is the
perception of a real, objective truth, which is made evident
to our minds by its own intrinsic light, and the silly
cavils which " common sense " justly despises are at once
annihilated.

The value, then, of the nescient philosophic doubts, as put
forth by Professor Huxley and his school, may, I venture to
think, be shown to be nil — first, because they are not real
doubts, but merely verbal ones ; and, secondly, because they
contradict the primary and fundamental dicta of consciousness
itself.

Something further, however, may yet be urged.

Even what is called " necessary truth " is, in fact, conceded
by some Agnostics ;* and they would generally admit that

* It admits of " no doubt that all our knowledge is a knowledge of states of
consciousness." — Professor Huxley : ' Lay Sermons,' p. 373.

C 2

20 LESSONS FEOM NATURE. [CHAP. I.

to each one who thinks, while he thinks, the proposition
A further " thought is," is a necessary truth. 1 maintain, how-
consequence. everj that this proposition can be proved to carry
with it (if it is to have any meaning] a store of objective
truth, amply sufficient to establish the validity of all first
truths. I further maintain that it is impossible intelligently
to utter the monosyllable "thought" without thereby lay
ing implicitly the foundations of the whole of philosophy,
a whole system of universal and necessary truth.

For the word " thought," intelligently uttered, must at the
what the very least contain the conception of " existence,"
^thought" and involve a psychological judgment which, ex-
impiies. piicity evolved, is the judgment " thought is." But
a "judgment" has no meaning without both a "subject" and
an " object," and the first of these two words is meaningless
without the conception of an " Ego" and " its states," and the
term " object " necessarily carries with it the conception of
the " non-Ego — actual or possible." Again, the exclamation
" thought," since it necessarily involves the conception of ex
istence or being, carries with it, by necessary correlation, the
conception " not being ;" and this, again, necessarily involves
" relation " and the principle of contradiction, and therefore
the idea " truth ;" and " truth " is meaningless, unless we
accept the co-existence of ''objective being" and "an intel
lect," together with a relation of conformity between the two.
What For " truth " is nothing else but a relation of con-

"' formity between some existence and some being that
knows such existence. To say that anything is true, as, e.g.,
that " Mr. Disraeli is our Prime Minister," is to assert a con
formity between the mental judgment so expressed and the
really existing external facts signified by that proposition.

Quite lately * indeed truth has been defined as " the equi
valence of the terms of a proposition," but this definition seems
a defective one. When a proposition is declared to be true,
it is not its " terms " only which are referred to, but what those

* See Lewes's ' Problem* of Life and Mind,' vol. ii. p. 88.

CHAP. I.] THE STAKTING-POINT. 21

terms denote, and the conformity existing between the inter
relations of the things so denoted as they actually exist exter
nally and the mental judgment verbally expressed respecting
them. If reference is not expressly made to the truth of a
true proposition, its truth, none the less consists in that con
formity, and reposes not on the " terms " but the objective
realities they denote. There is no equivalence between the
terms " Mr. Disraeli " and " England's Prime Minister," and
there is no truth between " London Bridge " and " a way
across the river Thames." There is, however, equivalence in
what is denoted by the terms, and there is truth in the pro
position, " London Bridge is a way across the river Thames :''
that is to say, the objective facts conform to the mental judg
ment so expressed concerning them — in other words, in the
relation between objective existences and the intellect.

To return, however, to our argument : every Nescient
will admit that the real existence of a present actual -Necessary"
state of consciousness is an absolute and necessary tr
truth to that consciousness ; so much so, that no malevolent
being, however powerful, could in this deceive. Were our
existence made up of a succession of shifting deceits, yet
that a thought or feeling exists at the moment we actually
experience its existence, is what, by universal consent, is
beyond question*. That " a state of consciousness is," is
therefore a " necessary truth." But as to " truth," we have
just seen its implications ; and with regard to the word
" necessary," it can have no meaning, except we apprehend
" causation/' together with " possibility " and " impossibility,"
revealing to us a difference between actual being and merely
possible being, as also between the necessary and contingent
categories of actual being.

If, then, the above proposition, " a state of consciousness is,"
is necessarily true, it follows that a whole world of The Agnos.
necessary truth is thereby and therein implied. If, i^ailcum™
on the contrary, it be asserted that these impli- trnSisUMy
cations, or any of them, are untrue or invalid-
not objectively true — then the proposition is unmeaning, and

22 LESSONS FEOM NATURE. [CHAP. I.

we can not affirm that a demon could not deceive us as to the
existence of a passing thought. If however we cannot so
affirm, then the Agnostics are wrong (for they, the Agnostics,
say that to this extent there is certainty), and we are landed
in utter scepticism. If they choose the other horn of the
dilemma, and assert the necessary impotence of thought or
of language, then, as we have seen, they thereby assert that
everything which can be thought or said is necessarily uncer
tain ; and this, again, implies certainty ; so that the Agnostics
are inextricably inclosed in a vicious circle. They cannot
even speak interrogatively ; they cannot say, " How do you
know that thought is not self-existent ?" for the use or
implication of one personal pronoun ipso facto removes them
from their own chosen position, and lands them in that world
of objectivity and reality they would so insanely and so
inconsequently disown.

We come now to the last matter which it is here suggested
Logical con- should be pressed upon Agnostics. It is the result
ces> and outcome of the foregoing observations — namely,
that they (the Agnostics) are logically driven to admit and
accept the following affirmation, under pain of utter scep
ticism : —

That our persuasion and spontaneous belief as to the exist
ence of a continuously enduring self underlying the changing
series of phenomena we term " states of consciousness " are
valid, and the results of a true perception of our own ob
jective existence. We are forced to admit that the think
ing being I call myself at this moment is substantially
one and identical with the agent who carried on the long-
series of acts and endurances I call my past life. We are
driven to affirm that we have indeed a direct intuition of
passing , modifications, but that we have a no less clear, no
less certain intuition of a mysterious, substantial unity, which
reason tells us, if we can be certain of anything, is due to a
peculiar faculty of perceiving truth, which faculty we term
the intellect. I say " of perceiving truth," for if what is per
ceived as necessarily true (not merely passively unthinkable)

CHAP. L] THE STAKTING-POINT. ^3

is not truth, then there is no truth at all for us, and we
must full into " absolute scepticism," where all intellectual
conflict becomes an absurdity. If we may make any affirma
tion whatever, it is the affirmation of our own existence,
and yet that cannot be made without accepting the trust
worthiness of memory. But what do we not admit in
admitting so much ?

It is in vain that we try to get rid of the mysterious. Mr.
Herbert Spencer himself is quite unable to get rid of " mys
tery." He says,* there is " a warrant higher than that which
any argument can give, for asserting an objective existence.
Mysterious as seems the consciousness of something which is
yet out of consciousness, he finds that he alleges the reality
of this something in virtue of the ultimate law — he is obliged
to think it."

Speaking on this subject, Professor Huxley has fallen into
one of the strangest fallacies it has been our lot to A curious
encounter. He says f that the "general trustworthi
ness of memory " and " the general constancy of the order of
nature " " are of the highest practical value, inasmuch as the
conclusions logically drawn from them are always verified ~by
experience /" As if experience itself was possible, unless
memory could be relied on as trustworthy. My " experience "
would be of little value to me if I could not be certain it was
mine, and not that of somebody else. As to this fallacy, a
writer in the ' Dublin Keview ' observes : — t

" To this singular piece of reasoning we put forth (p. 46) an obvious
reply. You tell us that you trust your present act of memory, because
in innumerable past instances the avouchments of memory have been
true. How do you know — how can you even guess — that there has
been one such instance? Because you trust your present act of
memory ; no other answer can possibly be given. Never was there so
audacious an instance of arguing in a circle. You know forsooth that
your present act of memory can be trusted, because in innumerable
past instances the avouchment of memory has been true; and you

* 'Essays' (stereotyped edition), vol. ii. p. 407.
t ' Lay Sermons,' p. 359,

j See in ' Dublin Keview,' July 1873, the article on Mr. Mill's ruply to the
' Dublin Review.'

24 LESSONS FROM NATURE. [CHAP. I.

know that in innumerable past instances the avouchment of memory
has been true, because you trust your present act of memory. The
blind man leads the blind round a ' circle ' incurably ' vicious.'

«' Let us observe the Professor's philosophical position. It is his
principle, that men know nothing with certitude, except their present
consciousness. Now, on this principle, it is just as absurd to say that
the facts testified by memory are probably, as that they are certainly
true. What can be more violently unscientific, we asked (p. 50,
note) — from the stand- point of experimental science — than to assume
without grounds as ever so faintly probable the very singular pro
position, that mental phenomena (by some entirely unknown law)
have proceeded in such a fashion, that my clear impression of the past
corresponds with my past experience f Professor Huxley possesses no
doubt signal ability in his own line ; but surely as a metaphysician he
exhibits a sorry spectacle. He busies himself in his latter capacity
with diligently overthrowing the only principle on which his researches
as a physicist can have value or even meaning."

The trustworthiness of memory is as mysterious and exact-
what is im- ing a dogma as the trustworthiness of our percep-
sertfngtiTe tions of universally necessary objective truth — nay,
nTss'ofme-" it is as mysterious as any of the dogmas which the
objectivist philosophy enunciates, and yet without
admitting this trustworthiness we cannot advance one step.
By admitting it, we allow to our intellect the faculty of per
ceiving objective existence, of which the senses can give no
account, and which is altogether removed from the field of
sensible experience. If we admit the validity of such cog
nitions, on what ground are we to deny the validity of other
intellectual cognitions which are no less an object of cer
tainty ? If the mind has the power now of cognizing acts
performed by it, but removed by half a century's interval
from the domain of present experience, why may it not per
ceive the* necessary properties of all possible triangles,
though experience can give us cognizance of but a few actual
triangles ?

Here, then, we may firmly take our stand, and assert that

* Mr. Herbert Spencer himself well observes : " Is it, then, that the trust
worthiness of memory is less open to doubt than the immediate consciousness
that the quantities must be unequal if they differ from a third quantity in
unequal degress ?'—' Essays ' (stereotyped edition), vol. ii. p. -ill.

CHAP. I.] THE STAKTING-POINT. 25

the intellect shows us its own objective validity. Let him
who denies it beware ; for the denial of any certainty as to
his own existence follows logically and necessarily from such
negation, and thus fails all certainty whatever, even the cer
tainty that there is no certainty, or that the words certainty
and uncertainty have any difference of signification, or that
any words have any meaning, or that meaning or being of
any kind can exist, or even be really thought.

Reference has been just above made to Mr. Herbert
Spencer, and as he has a different but more im- Mr Spencer.s
portant band of philosophical disciples than has ouerViow°
Professor Huxley, and as Mr. Darwin has bestowed owfexLr
on him the title "our great philosopher," it would ence-
be interesting to learn precisely his view concerning our
knowledge of our own existence.

Unfortunately, Mr. Spencer is hardly clear in his enuncia
tions respecting our knowledge of our own continued personal
existence.

In his chapter on " The Substance of Mind" * he remarks :
— " If by the phrase ' substance of mind ' is to be understood
mind as qualitatively differentiated in each portion that is
separable by introspection but seems homogeneous and un-
decomposable ; then we do know something about the sub
stance of Mind, and may eventually know more. Assuming f
an underlying something, it is possible in some cases to see,
and in the rest to conceive, how these multitudinous modifi
cations of it arise. But if the phrase is taken to mean the
underlying something of which these distinguishable portions
are formed, or of which they are modifications ; then we know
nothing about it, and never can know anything about it."

Now, if by this Mr. Spencer means we cannot know our
own soul otherwise than in and by its acts, he only He asserts a

truism or an

asserts what has been ever taught by the schools to absurdity.
which he is most opposed. No rational metaphysician ever

* ' Psychology,' vol. i. p. 145.

t It may bo well asked, on what ground shall we make this assumption ?
Unless he grunts a self- consciousness, which he does not grant, such an
assumption will be both groundless and unverifiable.

20 LESSONS FROM NATURE. [CHAP. I.

taught that the soul could be known by us in its essence or
otherwise than by its acts.

But if by the passage quoted he would deny that we have
direct consciousness of an enduring and persistent self,
known to us by its acts as the author of our volitions and
the subject of our feelings and cognitions, then we might
equally deny that Mr. Spencer has, or ever can have, any
knowledge of any friend as, e.g., Professor Tyndall.

If by Professor Tyndall is to be understood a plexus of
AU iiiustra- sensible accidents — an entity " qualitatively differ
entiated in each portion that is separable by
thought" — then Mr. Spencer may "know something" about
Professor Tyndall, " and may eventually know more." But
if the name is taken to mean the underlying something
which is now speaking, now silent, now in the Alps, now at
the Royal Institution, at one time a boy, at another a man,
which has a certain expression of face, a certain habit of
dress, a certain mode of carriage, a certain cast of thought —
then Mr. Spencer knows "nothing about it, and never can
know anything about it :" since he can never know his friend
but by and through some act, were it only by action on the
retina of Mr. Spencer, or by some active impressions on his
auditory nerves.

But we have said Mr. Spencer is hardly clear in this
Anor^w- matter, and we may add, he is hardly consistent.
hominem. He is not consistent ; because if there is one promi
nent feature of his teaching, it is the supreme certainty
borne in on us of the existence of what he calls the absolute
and unmodified " unknowable."

Yet all that Mr. Spencer brings against our consciousness
of the Ego may be brought against his unknowable. If
everything that we know is a form of the unknowable, then
the unknowable is modified, and the absolute or unmodified
unknowable is an absurdity.

Similarly, that we cannot know the Ego except as quali
tatively differentiated is most true, but it is true for the very
simple reason that it never exists except in some state. A

CHAP. I.] THE STARTING-POINT. '^7

qualitatively undifferentiated Ego is a pure absurdity and an
impossibility. No wonder, then, our intellects do not appre
hend it.

He tells us that the substance of mind cannot possibly
be known, because since "every state of mind is Whathe
some modification of this substance of mind," SteTihee*.
in no state of mind can the substance of mind 4hat°hef
be present unmodified. But this does not prove d
that the continuance of mind is unknowable, but only that
it is not knowable except in its modifications.

Mr. Spencer talks of states of mind known as " states of
mind," or " modifications of mind." But there cannot be a
consciousness of difference without a comparison, and two
things cannot be compared if one is unknown and unknow
able. Therefore these " states " and " modifications " can only
be known as such by comparison with a "persistent sub
stance " of mind, and therefore this must be known in order
that we may know " states of mind " as " states of mind."

But an attempt to deny our knowledge of the substan
tial Ego, without at the same time implicitly asserting that
knowledge, is really an effort to escape self-consciousness,
which can be but very inadequately represented by the
conception of a man trying to jump away from his own
shadow.

We may then conclude that in affirming our certain
knowledge of our own continued existence we hold a conclusion
position we can maintain against all assailants.
We have in that certainty a starting-point of knowledge
such as we set out to seek, namely, one that is thoroughly
satisfactory. If indeed we have not with respect to that
self-existence the highest degree of certainty, then the intel
lect is deprived of any firm foundation whereon to raise a
rational system of co-ordinated knowledge. But it is hoped
that the cavils of the Agnostics have been here met by argu
ments sufficient to enable even the most timid and deferential
readers and hearers of our modern Sophists to hold their
own rational convictions, and to maintain they know what

28 LESSONS FKOM NATURE. [CHAP. I-

they are convinced they do know, and not to give up a certain
and absolute truth (their intellectual birthright) at the bid
ding of those who would illogically make use of such negation
as a ground for affirming the relativity of all our knowledge,
and consequently for denying all such truths as, for whatever
reason, they may desire to deny.

Such, then, is the first lesson we may draw from the in-
The first les- vestigation of nature as revealed to us in and by
ture/01 ' our own minds. Our continued personal existence
is a certainty absolute and irresistible, directly known to
us as a particular contingent fact by means of conscious
ness itself. Our supreme certainty of this truth has, as we
have seen, been denied on grounds which, it is here con
tended, plainly show a want of accurate analysis and of careful
introspection on the part of the deniers. Their denial, how
ever, serves to bring out still more clearly the supreme im
portance of our recognition of our own self-consciousness, and
of all that our knowledge of the Ego implies and contains.
Each man who for the first time has his eyes thus opened to
the marvellous nature of his present knowledge of his own
past existence will see in this necessarily postulated " veracity
of memory " the evidence of his possession of real objective
truth and of knowledge other than phenomenal. That is to
say, he will see that his own mind has the power (however
acquired and however mysterious) of penetrating beyond the
appearances of things, beyond mere feelings, and the con
stant changes of nature, and of attaining a direct knowledge
of a persistent and real being — namely, himself, as both
past and present— learning through his passing states and
feelings the fact of his own persistent and enduring being.
We may now seek to learn whether this first lesson taught
us by nature can aid towards the acquirement of further
certainty.

CHAPTER II.

FIRST TRUTHS.

" Knowledge must be based on the study of mental facts and on
undemonstrable truths which declare their own absolute certainty, and
are seen by the mind to be positively and necessarily true."

THE first lesson we have gathered from nature, one which
is certain and indisputable, is the fact of our own Self.know.
continued personal existence revealed to us by ^^nh^e
consciousness and by memory. This certainty, talfmy with-"
though absolute, rests upon an immediately known outProof-
fact, and not upon evidence ; neither is it capable of proof,
being above and beyond all proof of whatever kind. It
is thus manifest that we may have absolute certainty without
proof, and a moment's reflection suffices to show that there
must be truths of this order — truths as certain as they are
undemonstrable. For demonstration can but proceed by
proving some propositions by the help of others which will
not be denied ; and this process, unless it is to go on for
ever, must stop at truths which can be at once seen to be
self-evident and indisputable. If no such truths can possibly
be found, then the mind can have no secure basis whatever
upon which to rear a fabric of reasoned and coherent truth.

And here it might be expected that in gathering lessons
from nature our course should be to start from a Reasons why
consideration of external objects, proceeding from g^st°uhdabe"
the lower and more simple to the higher and more ^"nd before
complex, till we reach, at last, the highest nature temai nl-ex
which our senses make known to us, namely, our

30 LESSONS FKOM N A TURK [CHAP. IT.

own It might be expected that, in our study of life, we
should ascend from a consideration of mere nutrition, growth,
and reproduction, through locomotion and feeling, up to the
most abstract intellectual action, according 1
example left us by Aristotle.

To be-in with the external world would also be the more
reasonable and consistent course, seeing that with each of us,
as we develop from earliest infancy, the external becomes
noticed by us before the internal, and the consideration o
surrounding objects takes up a much larger part of our mental
activity than self-contemplation. And such an objective
ascending course would indeed be the one here followed were
it not for the various cavils against human intelligence which
prevail amongst us to-day. But when idealists deny the
existence of an external world at all; when sensists proclaim
our highest thoughts to be but transformed sensations;
when the assertors of absolute identity declare both self and
not-self to be modes of an unknowable entity, which is
neither, yet both— under these conditions our treatment
must be modified accordingly. To follow the more natural
method would now be to fall into a petitio principii. For
it has become necessary first to justify our judgments con
cerning our perceptions and our reasonings, and only after
this can we logic-ally proceed to investigate the world of
objective being around us. As long as the objective validity
of subjective conceptions is in dispute, objective truths must
not appear first in the field. In a controversy in which
" states of consciousness " have become the ultimate criterion,
it would be a mistake to begin with considering facts of
anatomy and physiology. I fully agree, then, with Mr.
Spencer when he says that the metaphysician's first step
must be to exclude from his investigation everything objective ;
not taking for granted the existence of anything external
corresponding to his ideas, until he has ascertained what
it is he predicates in calling his ideas true.

It seems plain that our first duty here is to settle, if
we may, an ultimate criterion on a subjective basis, and by

CHAP. II.] FIRST TRUTHS. 31

means of it to endeavour to show what must necessarily be
postulated if we would rise above utter scepticism.

We have therefore taken immediate consciousness as our
fundamental fact — as that which is to form, and must form,
part of that foundation on which alone any durable philo
sophic edifice can now be raised.

Next to the fact of our own continued personal existence,

our attention may be recalled and directed to the And endea
vour to liar-

certamty that we not only exist, but that we both momse our

. 7 , J thoughts and

mink andjeel — that we have a faculty both of think- feelings.
ing and feeling. These truths are unquestionable — whatever
cavils may be made as to the world external to our own minds.

If our thoughts and feelings can be so coadjusted as to
result in order and harmony, if they can be arranged in
an orderly and reciprocally supporting collocation, we thereby
attain to a stable system of philosophy. And that system
of philosophy must be the best which harmonises the
whole universe of facts with least strain and most stability.

If contradiction and discord necessarily result from every
attempt at such coadjustment, if our mental activity cannot
but end in contradictions, then we have no possible refuge
from utter scepticism.

But these two entities of which we are conscious,

"thoughts" and "feelings," may be seen by intro- somediffer-

. i . «. ences **-

spection to have a very different range. Our feel- tween these.

ings, of course, as present feelings, are infallible, but they
refer only to what we deem present here and now, or to the
recent past. Our thoughts, on the other hand, can range
over all conceivable time and space, and with equal infallibi
lity affirm such propositions as, e.g., that always and every
where " the whole is greater than its part," " whatever
thinks, exists." Moreover, looking into our own minds
shows us that thought exercised about feelings does not
attain to the same degree of certainty and conviction
which it can attain to when exercised about certain other
thoughts. We see that there may be possible sources of
error. Thus, e.g., when we say, " I see that chair," we have

32 LESSONS FROM NATURE. [CHAP. II.

an internal mental state of conviction, but one less forcible
and certain, than the mental state of conviction we have
when we say, " whatever thinks, exists."

Again, looking into our own mind shows us the strange
power it has of seeing a necessary universality in a single
experience. Let the three angles of any triangle be once
clearly understood to be equal to two right angles, and we
also see immediately that in all space, such as the space we
know, the three angles within any possible figure bounded by
three straight lines must also be equal to two right angles.

Mr. Lewes indeed tells us * that : " Ideas can be valid only
Thought, not as representatives of sensations ;" and from a certain
Sof'A. point of view this is true, since all our ideas arise
through and by means of sensations. But there are ideas
which are not and never were representatives of sensation,
but of what is or has been suggested to our intellect by
means of sensations. Such ideas are, e.g., those of substance,
ratio, cause, &c. These ideas when expressed by us in words
are deemed and believed, through what we take to be ex
perience, to be capable of suggesting to others these similar
supra-sensible cognitions, and we think (assuming men like
ourselves to exist) that if any one denies this he is not as
other men are.

Mr. Lewes adds : t " All sensation is certain, indisputable.
The test and measure of certitude is therefore sensation."
Xow this is bad logic ; such a conclusion would follow only if
nothing was certain but sensation. All he can logically con
clude is that sensation is " a test and measure of certitude."
In one sense it is such a test— not the test. Moreover, it is
a test used by the intellect. In feeling itself there is neither
certainty nor doubt ; these are the attributes of " thought "
only. To say that certitude is in even any one case to be
tested by sensation is an incomplete and misleading expression.
Certainty, we see by introspection, does not exist at all in
feelings, any more than doubt. Both belong to thought only.

* ' Problems of Life and Mind,' vol. i. p. 181.
t Op. cit. p. 257.

CHAP. II. j FIEST TEUTHS. 33

" Feelings " are but the materials of certainty, and though
we can be perfectly certain about our feelings, that certainty
belongs to thought, and to thought only. Thought, therefore,
is our ultimate and absolute criterion, that to which we can
alone appeal. It is by self-conscious thought only that we
know we have any feelings at all. Without thought, indeed,
we might feel, but we could not know that we felt, or know
ourselves as feeling.

We have then self-consciousness and thought, called into
action through sensation, from which to build up, as we may,
our fabric of knowledge, and these faculties, as we shall shortly
see, imply much more, and in fact suffice by themselves to
carry us out from our internal world of thought into an
external universe of real existence. Indeed, our subjective
knowledge of our own past existence, which is to us now an
objective fact, suffices to enable us at once to cross the bridge
(provided for us by nature) spanning the bottomless abyss
separating subjectivity from objectivity ; separating, that is,
the world of existence outside our consciousness from the
world of our conscious existence.

But it is time to return to the question of first truths, and
to the question respecting the ultimate foundation of philo
sophy and the true basis of certitude, and the necessity of
our intellect finding and possessing undemonstrated and
uudenionstrable certainties by which all other truths may be
proved, if truth is to exist for us at all.

Balmes * has well said : " Not only are not all things
demonstrated, but it may even be demonstrated that some
things are undemonstrable. Demonstration is a ratiocination,
in which we infer from evident propositions a pro- Balmesand
position evidently connected with them. If the spence^to
premisses are of themselves evident, they do not ofes£^ity
admit of demonstration; if we suppose them in monstrable
their turn demonstrable, we shall have the same '
difficulty with respect to those on which the new demon-

Fundamental Philosophy' (translated by Brownson), vol. i. p. 106.

D

34 LESSONS FEOM NATUKE. [CHAP. II.

stration is founded ; therefore we must either stop at an
indemonstrable point, or proceed to infinity, which would be
never to finish the demonstration."

Although, to be perfectly consistent, Mr. Spencer ought to
deny the existence of any basis of certitude, or of any abso
lute and fundamental truth, yet, by a happy inconsistency,
he lays down the necessity of primary undemonstrable truths
underlying the whole fabric of knowledge.

I cite with pleasure the following statements, which seem
as true and valid as they are admirably expressed. In
criticising ' Empiricism ' or ' Experientialism,' he says : -

" Throughout its argument there runs the tacit assumption that
there may be a philosophy in which nothing is asserted but what is
proved. It proposes to admit into the coherent fabric of its conclu
sions, no conclusion that is incapable of being established by evidence ;
and thus it takes for granted that not only may all derivative truths
be proved, but also that proof may be given of the truths from which
they are derived, down to the very deepest. The consequence of this
refusal to recognise some fundamental unproved truth is that its fabric
of conclusions is left without a base. Giving proof of any special pro
position, is assimilating it to some class of propositions known to be
true. If any doubt arises respecting the general proposition cited in
justification of this special proposition, the course is to show that this
general proposition is deducible from a proposition of still greater
generality ; and if pressed for proof of such still more general proposi
tion, the only resource is to repeat the process. Is this process endless ?
If so, nothing can be proved — the whole series of propositions depends
on some unassignable proposition. Has the process an end? If so,
there must eventually be reached a widest proposition— one which
cannot be justified by showing that it is included by any wider — one
which cannot be proved. Or to put the argument otherwise : — Every
inference depends on premises ; every premise, if it admits of proof,
depends on other premises; and if the proof of the proof be continually
demanded, it must either end in an unproved premise, or in the
acknowledgment that there cannot be reached any premise on which
the entire series of proofs depends.

" Hence Philosophy, if it does not avowedly stand on some datum
underlying reason, must acknowledge that it has nothing on which to
stand — must confess itself to be baseless."

But the question immediately arises, " How are unproved

* 'Psychology,' vol. ii. p. 391.

CHAP. II.] FIRST TRUTHS. 35

and improvable self-evident truths to be sought?" Mani
festly by introspection alone — the careful analysis of con
sciousness by each one for himself.

In order successfully to combat with those who accept
idealism we must, for the sake of those who do not accept the
nature-given bridge between object and subject, begin from
a purely subjective basis.

This, as has been said, is the method declared necessary by
Mr. Spencer himself, and he also tells us * to the same effect : —

" The first step in a metaphysical argument, rightly carried on,
must be an examination of propositions for the purpose of ascertaining
what character is common to those which we call unquestionably true,
and is implied by asserting their unquestionable truth. Further, to
carry on this inquiry legitimately, we must restrict our analysis rigor
ously to states of consciousness considered in their relations to one
another: wholly ignoring anything beyond consciousness to which
these states and their relations may be supposed to refer. For, if, before
we have ascertained by comparing propositions what is the trait that
leads us to class some of them as certainly true, we avowedly or tacitly
take for granted the existence of something beyond consciousness;
then, a particular proposition is assumed to be certainly true before we
have ascertained what is the distinctive character of the propositions
which we call certainly true, and the analysis is vitiated. If we cannot
transcend consciousness — if, therefore, what we know as truth must be
some mental state, or some combination of mental states ; it must be
possible for us to say in what way we distinguish this state or these
states. The definition of truth must be expressible in terms of con
sciousness; and, indeed, cannot otherwise be expressed if conscious
ness cannot be transcended. Clearly, then, the metaphysician's first
step must be to shut out from his investigation everything but what is
subjective ; not taking for granted the existence of anything objective
corresponding to his ideas, until he has ascertained what property of
his ideas it is which he predicates by calling them true."

Now, although I have the good fortune to agree, to a
' certain extent, with Mr. Herbert Spencer as to the limits and
necessary conditions of inquiry, yet my view as to the ulti
mate and final test of all truth whatever differs profoundly
and fundamentally from his.

I differ from him, and deem his conception of this test to

' Essays,' vol. ii. p. 400 (stereotyped edition).

D 2

36 LESSONS FROM NATURE. [CHAP. II.

be inadequate and false, because he makes that test a purely
negative one. He asserts that "inconceivability" is the
ultimate and supreme test of truth.
He tells us : — *

"A discussion in consciousness proves to be simply a trial of
strength between different connexions in consciousness — a systematized
struggle serving to determine which are the least coherent states of
consciousness. And the result of the struggle is, that the least coherent
states of consciousness separate, while the most coherent remain toge
ther ; forming a proposition of which the predicate persists in the mind
along with its subject. ... If there are any indissoluble connexions,
he is compelled to accept them. If certain states of consciousness
absolutely cohere in certain ways, he is obliged to think them in those
ways. . . . Here, then, the inquirer comes down to an ultimate
laniformity — a universal law of thinking."

As I have said, I consider Mr. Spencer's test inadequate,
Mr spencer's an(l am convinced that his analysis of consciousness
JSte0tratha i8 incomplete and misleading. He fails to distin-
mereiyTegi6- guish between two distinct classes of ultimate psy
chical phenomena, and consequently does not really
accept, as he professes to do, the absolute dicta of con
sciousness for the basis of his philosophy. He fails to dis
tinguish between merely negative mental impotencies or
simple inconceivabilities on the one hand and positive per
ceptions or intuitions on the other. He fails to note the
utterly different classes of judgments which severally affirm
either that they simply cannot conceive a given proposition
to be true, or that they positively do see that the opposite of
a given proposition cannot be true. Negative perceptions
of simple inconceivability are reflex, but positive intuitions
(as when I gaze at a picture on the wall before me) are
direct.

Mr. Spencer distinguishes between two classes of unbeliev
able propositions, namely : (1) the simply unbelievable or in
credible, and (2) the inconceivable. He defines f the former
as a proposition " which admits of being framed in thought,

* ' Psychology,' vol. ii. p. 450.
t Ibid. vol. ii. p. 408.

CHA.P. II.] FIRST TRUTHS. 37

but is so mucli at variance with experience" "that its terms
cannot be put in the alleged relation without effort ; " and
he gives us an example — a cannon-ball fired from England
to America. An inconceivable proposition is defined by him
as " one of which the terms cannot, by any effort, be brought
before consciousness in that relation which the proposition
asserts between them : " and he gives as examples of in
conceivability " that one side of a triangle is equal to the
sum of the other two sides ; " and * the idea of resistance,
disconnected from the idea of extension in the resisting
object.

Now, in the first place, it must be presumed that with Mr.
Herbert Spencer the term " framed in thought " is equiva
lent to " represented in imagination," and the distinction he
draws is as true as obvious, between propositions which can
be imagined but are not to be believed, and those which
cannot be imagined at all. He does not, however, as has been
said, distinguish sufficiently between propositions, as a little
introspection will convince any unprejudiced experimenter.

There are, in fact, not one, but two distinct classes of un
imaginable propositions, and it is the second of these TWO distinct

,. i • \ i • i -i classes of

(ignored by him) which alone compels the mind to unimagin-

' . . . able proposi-

absolute, unconditional, universal, and necessary tion3-
assent to their contradictories, because their contradictories
are seen to be absolutely, unconditionally, universally, and
necessarily true.

There are altogether four kinds of propositions in con
sciousness : —

1. Those which can be both imagined and believed.

2. Those which can be imagined but cannot be believed.

3. Those which cannot be imagined but can be believed.

4. Those which cannot be imagined and are not believed,
because they are positively known to be absolutely impossible-

We need not occupy time with a consideration of the
'first two kinds, bat the latter two require careful discrimi-

; Psychology,' vol. ii. pp. 406, 407.

38 LESSONS FBOM NATUKE. [CHAP. II.

nation. It is surely somewhat surprising that Mr. Spencer
does not discuss the two meanings of the word « inconceivable
pointed out long ago in the controversy between Mill and
Whewell, and fully admitted by Mr. G. H. Lewes, who
observes:* "That which is unpicturable maybe conceivable;
and the abstraction which is impossible to .... imagination
is easy to conception." The word " inconceivable" is some
times taken to denote simply that which the mind cannot
picture in a distinct mental image. At other times it is
made use of to signify that which is "unintelligible" or
"unthinkable." But a great number of things which
cannot be pictured to the imagination can most certainly
be thought and understood, and none of those who uphold
the validity of our intuitions of objective necessary truth pre
tend that that which cannot be imagined is necessarily untrue.
Fortunately, in this matter of the declarations of conscious
ness, the appeal is to facts and experiments — facts that can
be observed, experiments that can be carried on by every one
a little advanced in philosophy, and therefore possessing that
which is a necessary condition of such advance, namely, a
habit of careful introspection. I venture confidently to
affirm that we have as certain evidence for this distinction of
kind between our own thoughts as we have for the very being
of those thoughts themselves. The existence of this distinc
tion as a fact is incontrovertible, and the fact of this declara
tion of consciousness should be first carefully noted; its
validity may be considered afterwards.

The first class of Mr. Spencer's inconceivable propositions
(our simply unimaginable ones) are, or, for all we see, may
be, the mere results of mental impotence; they are but
negatively and passively inconceivable. The second class of
inconceivable propositions (our necessarily false ones) are
those which are positively and actively inconceivable, because
they are clearly known by the mind to be absolutely and
universally impossible. At present we have not to consider

* ' Problems of Life and Mind,' vol. i, p. 420.

CHAP. II.] FIEST TRUTHS. 39

whether such perceptions are objectively true and valid, but
to point out that, as a fact, they subjectively exist

Let us, then, first note certain propositions which the mind
seems impotent to imagine, but which the intellect can both
understand and believe. The intellect clearly conceives a
force varying inversely as the square of the distance between
two bodies it reciprocally affects ; yet this variation cannot
be adequately represented by any image to the imagination.
We can, again, conceive an infinite addition of fractions,
which shall yet never attain to unity ; but such a conception
is utterly beyond the power of the imagination. Again, we
can not only conceive but it is evidently a necessary truth
that (a2 + a I -f x) + (al - x + I2) = (a -f 1} x (a + 6), let
a, &, and x, represent whatever whole numbers they may ; yet
this can by no means be directly represented by the
imagination.

But conceptions may be formed as to modes of existence
of which we have had no experience whatever, and A fallacy of

1 Professor

necessary deductions can even be drawn from such Heimhoitz.
deductions. Thus Professor Heimhoitz has conceived *
" beings living and moving along the surface of a solid body,
who are able to perceive nothing but what exists on this
surface, and insensible to all beyond it ; " and he adds, " if
such beings lived on the surface of a sphere, their space would
be without a limit, but it would not be infinitely extended ;
and the axioms of geometry would turn out very different
from ours, and from those of the inhabitants of a plane. The
shortest lines which the inhabitants of a spherical surface
could draw would be arcs of greater circles ; " also there
would be many shorter lines between the same two points if
there were two poles. Moreover, he tells us, such beings
" would not be able to form the notion of parallel geodetical
lines, because every pair of their geodetical lines, when suffi
ciently prolonged, would intersect in two points," &c. This
passage is not only interesting as demonstrating our power of

* ' The Academy,' vol. i. p. 128.

40 LESSONS FROM NATURE. [Cu\v. II.

transcending experience by conception, but even more so as
the solemn enunciation of a transparent fallacy by a man of
eminence. Professor Helmholtz concludes : " We may resume
the results of these investigations by saying that the axioms
on which our geometrical system is based are no necessary
truths." And Professor Clifford * cites with approval the
article here quoted, and adopts its conclusions. Nevertheless
the fallacy is surely transparent. Unless geometrical axioms
were necessary truths, it would be impossible for these pro
fessors to declare what would or would not be the necessary
results attending such imaginary conditions. And '-other
systems" could not, as Professor Helmholtz admits t they
may, " be developed analytically with perfect logical con
sistency." If such beings as are supposed called the lines re
ferred to " straight," they would mean by that word what we
should call " arcs of great circles." Whether such beings
could conceive parallel lines or not, there is no evidence to
show, but there is no shadow of foundation for asserting that,
if they could conceive them, they would not perceive the im
possibility of their ever meeting, as we can perceive the
necessary relations of their supposed space conditions which,
by the hypothesis, are not ours.

On this subject Mr. Lewes has observed : J " In a space of
two or of four dimensions many geometrical propositions
which relate to a space of three dimensions would not be true.
Who doubts it ? Who expects that the same results can be
the product of different factors ? "

Mr. Spencer, as we have seen, deems it absolutely in-
Mr. spencer's conceivable that an unextended object can offer

example of . . _ T ' . . .

absolute resistance or exercise pressure. JN evertneiess, he

inconceiv- 1. 1 . 1

ability. himselt is able to conceive " body, as really apart

from extension, and in terms of force only — since that which

s described must be conceived; and he tells us§ it is

* ' Macmillan'a Magazine,' October 1872, p. 504.
t ' The Academy,' vol. i. p. 130.
£ ' Problems of Life and Mind,' vol. i. p. 378.
§ 'First Principles' (2nd edition), p. 167.

CHAP. II.] FIRST TRUTHS. 41

" manifest that our experience of force is that out of which
the idea of matter is built. Matter as opposing our mus
cular energies, being immediately present to consciousness
in terms of force ; and its occupancy of space being known
by an abstract of experiences originally given in terms
of force ; it follows that forces, standing in certain cor
relations, form the whole content of our idea of matter."
But it is undeniably true that very many persons who con
ceive a pure spirit to be unextended and not to occupy space,
yet at the same time find no difficulty in very distinctly
converting in thought that which to Mr. Spencer is incon
ceivable. That this is so a multitude of believers in spiritism
will attest, and their evidence to the fact of " conceivability "
is equally valuable, whether they are or are not deceived as
to facts. Again, the doctrine that the soul is whole and
entire in every part of the body is a conception utterly
transcending imagination, but one which has been and is
accepted, believed, and reasoned about by thousands of the
most acute and cultivated intellects. Some not only avow
their power of conceiving that space may be bounded, but
even announce that we may be shortly enabled to assert its
actual extent.*

But that our perception of necessary truth is not limited
by experience may be shown by the fact that we are Ourpercep-
not compelled to conceive that of which we have, garyfrmhs8"
and our ancestors, however remote, have ever had, byVx^r^ '
uniform and unvarying experience. We have ever
seen with our eyes and heard with our ears, yet we can
conceive of vision and audition taking place in quite other
parts of the body instead. We have experience but of the
five senses, apart from the muscular sense, yet we can not
only believe in the possibility of other senses, but conceive
the existence of a sense directly revealing to us the actinic
properties of light, or the chemical composition of crystals,

* See Professor Clifford's article in ' Macmillan's Magazine' of Oct. 1872,
p. 511.

42 LESSONS FEOM NATUEE. [CHAP. IT.

by special modifications of consciousness, which modifications
are now, of course, unimaginable to us. We have never
experienced colour apart from extension, nor an extended
object not coloured, and yet these properties can be con
ceived as distinct though they cannot be so imagined. But
an effective argumentum ad liominem may be addressed to
Mr. Mill, who tells us he can conceive that 2 and 2 may
make 5, for most assuredly such a power transcends the
experience of all his ancestors, and will transcend that of his
successors to their latest posterity. Indeed, as Mr. Martineau
observes,* " Experience proceeds and intellect is trained, not
by association but by Dissociation, not by reduction of plu
ralities of impression to one, but by the opening out of one
into many ; and a true psychological history must expound
itself in analytic rather than synthetic terms." But what is
experience? A stone cannot "experience," nor can expe
rience be taken as ultimate. The very acquisition of ex
perience implies innate laws or principles. Instead of ex
perience being able to account for innate principles, innate
principles are needed to explain the acquisition of experience.
As Mr. Mott observes,! the defect of the materialistic view
generally, " is that it confounds the physical conditions of
experience with experience itself, which is nothing but mental
change; and that it tacitly assumes, in defiance of the
evidence, that consciousness depends on nothing but physical
change."

Let us now consider those propositions which are deemed
Propositions by the mind to be necessary and universal, not from

positively *

seen to be a passive impotence to disassociate two mental

necessarily ^ L f

true- images (such as those of colour and extension), but

from an active power of positive perception of which the
intellect is self-conscious. It requires but a little candid
introspection to see how different is the mental declaration
with regard to those unimaginable conceivabilities we have

* 'Essays,' p. 271.

t ' On the Materialism of Modern Science,' an opening address read before
the Literary and Philosophical Society of Liverpool, October 5th, 1874, p. 15.

CHAP. II.] FIEST TRUTHS. 43

noticed, and such propositions as that " things which are
equal to the same thing are equal to one another;" " a thing
cannot both be and not be at the same time in the same
sense." The subjective difference is surely plain enough.
Every sane man must admit that he clearly sees — sees borne
in on him as necessary truths — that two straight lines can
never enclose a space ; that twice five must always be ten ;
and that ingratitude can under no circumstances be a virtue.
If he denies that he perceives these judgments as neces
sarily true in any conceivable case as it arises, then he either
does not understand the real meaning of such judgments —
in Mr. Spencer's words, " they have not clearly represented
to themselves the propositions they assert " — or his mental
condition is pathological.

The judgment that the three angles of a triangle should
be together equal to two right angles, I perceive to be a
mental fact of quite a different kind from my inability to
imagine unextended colour or a boundary to space. Such a
judgment I see, if I can see anything, to be one the false
hood of which is not negatively unthinkable, but absolutely
and positively impossible even to Omnipotence itself, and
this because I see the affirmative to be absolutely and neces
sarily true.

Moreover, of all my subjective certainties none are to me
so certain as that which affirms those judgments which
(rightly or wrongly) I deem absolutely and universally neces
sary. If then subjective certainty is our ultimate test, such
judgments override all others ; and to deny them invalidates
every possible judgment, and logically plunges the doubter,
if he is consistent, into absolute, unqualified scepticism. The
existence then, as a fact, of these supreme and active per
ceptions as to necessity and impossibility (the existence of
which as distinguished from negative inconceivabilities is
ignored by Mr. Spencer) may be taken as one of the most
certain and indubitable facts of consciousness.

If there was but the one kind of inconceivable propo
sitions — namely, those negatively inconceivable, we should

44 LESSONS FROM NATURE. [CHAP. IT.

be driven, as Mr. Spencer says, to accept them as limits lor
us whether objectively and universally valid or not. But the
recognition of the quite other kind of active, positive percep
tions of inconceivability (of perceived universal impossibility),
together with the recognition that these looked at from the
point of view of pure subjectivity assert themselves as supreme,
gives us full warrant to assert universally necessary truth or
logically forces us, if we decline to accept such truth, into
the quagmire of universal doubt.

Mr. Spencer has justly observed that the passive incon
ceivabilities are necessities of thought to us, and that by
refusing to accept them we pass into a state of mental con
fusion, and even more or less physical impotence must result
from a refusal to act as if they were valid. This confusion
and this impotence can be remedied alone by a practical
acceptance of their objective validity. In the same way the
necessities given to us by our supreme intuitions as to im
possibility and necessity are practically active necessities of
thought. Every man is spontaneously convinced of their
necessary truth, and acts on such conviction in every case
as it arises seriatim by a corresponding spontaneous judg
ment. If in reflecting on such spontaneous judgments we
begin to doubt as to their objective validity, we begin ipso
facto to undergo a process of mental disintegration and in
tellectual paralysis, only to be remedied by the acceptance
of the objective validity of such truths. The objective
validity of these perceptions is given in the very substance
of each such perception itself. To doubt of the objective
truth of each is to doubt that of which we are directly and
supremely certain. If two straight lines can enclose a space,
if a whole may be less than its part, then we have no cer
tainty but that the same thing cannot both " be " and " not
be " at the same time and in the same sense, and we are
landed in complete scepticism. But Mr. Spencer himself
has implicitly admitted this very distinction which he ex
plicitly ignores, and not only recognises an active power of
positively perceiving necessary truths, but also the distinction

CHAP. II J FIRST TEUTIIS. 45

between actual and possible being. He says * — speaking of
the inquiry after fundamental truth — "Hence he has no
appeal from this ultimate dictum [i.e., inconceivability] ; and
seeino-this, he SEES that THE ONLY POSSIBLE further achieve-

o *

ment is the reconciliation of the dicta of consciousness with
one another." Any one, however, who should deny that we
have, as a fact, an intuition of " objective, universal, and
absolute necessity," may be confuted by bringing forward
the simple fact that some men assert that they have that
idea, and that the very opponents of such assertors must
themselves have it also, since they could not argue against
and controvert that of which they have no knowledge.
Mr. J. Martineau, in criticising Mr. Mill, observes : — f

" When he " [Mr. Mill] " says outright that a priori beliefs really
inherent in the mind are totally unworthy of trust, however imperi
ously they may compel submission ; and when he casts about for some
appeal against them — either from thought to ' fact ' or from faculty to
faculty — he seems to lose all his logical bearings, and forget the base
he had measured. What security can there be for any truth — of 'fact'
or of thought — a posteriori or a priori — if the positive and primary
affirmations of our mental nature may be suspected of making fools of
us ? The assumption of unveracity once made, cannot arbitrarily stop
with the province which Mr. Mill wishes to discredit. He himself also
must, somewhere or other, come to an end of his 'evidence' and
' proof,' and be landed on principles not derivative but primary : and
then he must either accept their coercion ' because there is no use in
appealing from it,' or unconditionally rely on them as the report of
truthful faculties ; and in either case is on the same footing as his
a priori neighbour. Be the 'proof what it may which authenticates
the belief, it is the faculty which, in the last resort, authenticates the
proof."

In the controversy, therefore, between Mr. Spencer and
Mr. Mill it appears to us to be clear that both are right and
both are wrong. Mr. Mill is right in affirming that there
are inconceivabilities which may yet be believed, but wrong
in denying that our subjective judgments as to impossibility
and necessity are both objectively valid and supreme criteria

* ' Essays,' vol. ii. p. 407. t Ibid, p. 103.

46 LESSONS FEOM NATUKE. [CHAP. IT.

of truth. Mr. Spencer is right in affirming that the ultimate
declarations of our intellect are such supreme criteria of
truth, but wrong in declining to attribute to such declarations
absolute necessity and universal objective validity. But both
Mr. Mill and Mr. Spencer err in failing to distinguish be
tween (1) that negative inconceivability which comes from
impotence or lack of experience ; and (2) that positive, active,
perception of impossibility which comes from intellectual
power and light. It is this active perception which reveals
summary of to us truths, neither the result of mere experience
tl^Ketr- nor of logical ratiocination ; since they are no sooner
rived at. thought of than we assent to them, and the validity
of all generalisation and deduction rests upon them as upon
original and fundamental principles.

The following propositions seem, then, to be incontro
vertible : —

1. Knowledge must rest on truths which are incapable of
being proved, but are evident by their own intrinsic light,
otherwise we have either absolute scepticism or a regressus
ad infinitum.

2. These fundamental truths must be subjectively evident.

3. Such fundamental subjective truths declare their ob
jective, absolute, and universal truth.

4. The intellect is thus carried by its own force from
subjectivity to objectivity.

From this it follows that we have a supreme degree of
certainty as regards a variety of objective truths which the
intellect has the power of apprehending by the aid of sen
sible phenomena. Our rational nature is thus seen to be
capable of knowing truly what is within its range, and is
justified in its conviction as to metaphysical certainty.

The same degree of inevitable certainty, guarded by the
same penalty of absolute scepticism, attends other dicta.
That " whatever thinks exists " is known to us as a necessary
a priori truth by its own evidence ; but that I myself exist is
known to me not by evidence of any kind, but by conscious
ness, to be a particular contingent fact of supreme certainty.

CHAP. II.] FIEST TRUTHS. 47

Mr. Bain, instead of, with Mr. Spencer, taking mental im
potence as the ultimate criterion of truth, lays down Mr Baln.s
two postulates, (1) the absence of contradiction, "er^of cn
and (2) the uniformity of nature, as his basis.

As to the first postulate, such a test is evidently quite un
fitted for its purpose ; since to accept without question the
fact that we have had past experiences is at once to assume
that very objectivity the acceptance of which has yet to be
justified. Accordingly we find Mr. Bain somewhat naively
further postulating " trust in memory " as one of the
guarantees of his ultimate postulates.

As to the second postulate, he tells us :* " The fact gene
rally expressed of nature's uniformity, is the guarantee, the
ultimate major premiss of all induction." .... "We can
give no reason, no evidence, for this uniformity ; and, there
fore, the course seems to be to adopt this as the finishing
postulate." A glance inwards will, I think, convince most
unprejudiced readers that their subjective certainty as to the
" uniformity of nature," considered by itself, is slight indeed,
compared with their conviction that " what thinks exists,"
or that " the whole is greater than its part."

Mr. Lewes's ultimate postulate and foundation of all truth
is " the equivalence of the terms of a proposition ;" and he
endeavours to reduce the logical principles of identity, con
tradiction, and excluded middle to his "principle of equi
valence." But his principle is only to be tested by the
principle of identity itself; and the very application of this
test assumes objectivity (as it involves memory and the
substantial Ego), and the action of an intellect which sees
the necessity that whatever is must be that which it mo
mentarily is — that nothing can both be and not be at the
same time and in the same sense.

Here a few words may be added respecting Mr. Spencer
and the principle of contradiction. One would have The principle

, , , -, „ ,, - of contradic-

thought that this law would have been lully ad- tion.

* ' Logic,' vol. i. p. 273.

48 LESSONS FROM NATURE. [CnAP. II.

mitted by Mr. Spencer, as it has been by almost every other
philosopher. It is strange that any one should think that
the law of contradiction is derivative, or that it reposes on
anything stronger and more fundamental than itself,
this is what Mr. Spencer appears to do. That the same thing
cannot both "be" and "not be" at the same time, and in
the same sense (i.e. the law of contradiction), we maintain to
be ma priori necessity of thought-not negative, the mer<
result of a mental impotence, but positive and known to us
as such by its own evidence. Yet though Mr. Spencer
denies* the validity, as an ultimate truth, of the principle
of contradiction, he unconsciously affirms it. He affirms it,
moreover, in that which he represents to be absolutely
fundamental and ultimate, namely, our inability to dissever
certain conceptions. For, supposing we know that we have
tried to dissever such conceptions and failed, how can we
be certain that we have not at the same time not tried and
yet succeeded— except upon that very principle of contra
diction itself?

Yet, again, it is nothing less than marvellous to note how

And the' completely Mr. Spencer ignores all the highest

RfthT1" faculties of the soul. We have the most ingenious

?gn"ind> and interesting constructions of sensible perceptions

of increasing degrees of complexity wrought out with an

abundance of illustration and a facility of research truly

admirable. But what is the outcome ? We feel, indeed, we

have an insight into the power of mere sensation, and the

consequent faculties of brutes, such as we never had before,

as also into the materials of our own thoughts ; but we have

no increased knowledge of our own intelligence itself. Our

cat's mind is indeed made clear to us, but not our own.

Those supreme conceptions and perceptions of our minds —

Truth and Goodness — reflexly contemplated as Truth and

Goodness, are simply passed over. Even the same thing

must be said of " relation." The relativity of our knowledge

* 'Psychology,' vol. ii. pp. 424, 425, from "But even" to "invalidity."

CHAP. II. J FIRST TRUTHS. 49

is indeed a constant theme, and the " relativity of feelings "
and "of relations" occupies, as before said, two chapters;
yet of our perceptions of relations as relations, we have not
one word.

Mr. Lewes also shows a strange want of appreciation of
our intellectual faculties, and he and Mr. Spencer Asalsoby
are by no means the only instances of this. Indeed, Mr' Lcwe8'
the most remarkable circumstance connected with living
English writers on questions such as these, is the con
spicuous absence in them of any manifest comprehension
of those very powers which they so continually exercise,
and their apparent want of appreciation of that reason to
which they verbally appeal. " Hamlet " with " the Prince of
Denmark " omitted, may well serve as a symbol of the
curious psychology of the school to which reference is here
made, namely, that of the Agnostics.

The next fact which reflection, combined with what we
at least take to be external observation, shows us, The validity

• ,1 i •-!•., p • of our reasou-

lS the validity 01 our reasoning processes. When to ing faculty.

the proposition, " All equilateral triangles are equiangular,"
we add, "The triangle A B C is equilateral," we see that a
third truth is implicitly contained in the two propositions
which truth explicitly stated is the conclusion, " The tri
angle A B C is equiangular." The nature of this process of
inference is expressed by the word " therefore," and a little
introspection shows us that it is something widely different
from the association of different things together in the ima
gination, so that the recurrence of one induces the recurrence
of a group of others, as when the recurrence of a smell oc
casions the revival in imagination of places, persons, and
circumstances of various kinds. Moreover, in this conclusion
there is no freedom of choice. We are compelled to admit
any conclusion logically contained in admitted premises, just
as we are compelled to admit the truth of the self-evident
proposition, " What thinks, exists." But it should be noted
that though our reason is necessitated, and acts fatally as
regards the explicit evolution of implicit truth, and as

50 LESSONS FEOM NATURE. [CHAP. II.

regards the immediate apprehension of self-evident truth,
yet it is not Hind; it sees both the objective truths, and their
necessity. Our intellectual perception of necessary truth is
not a passive impotence of imagining two things apart (such
as our inability to imagine uncoloured extension), but is an
active power of perceiving what is positively and necessarily
true. Thus it sees that if we deny in a conclusion truth latent
in admitted premises, or refuse to accept both terms of a self-
evident proposition, we thereby violate the principle of con
tradiction and the primary truth that what is, is. As to the
principle of contradiction — that anything cannot both be
and not be, at the same time and in the same sense — our
perception of its force is plainly no mere mental impotence,
but is positively known to us by its own evidence. The
denial or doubt of this principle, or the denial or doubt of
our process of inference, results necessarily, like our doubt
as to our own existence, in absolute scepticism and mental
imbecility. If anything may both be and not be at the
same time, then the intellectual world becomes at once a
chaos, and all argument unmeaning. Nay, it is even im
possible to really deny its truth, for if it is not true, we
cannot be certain that in denying it we are not actually
affirming it, or that a doubt respecting it is not the same as
absolute certainty that it is true.

Mr. Lewes altogether confounds " reasoning " with sensible

O

Mr. Lewes association, and entirely ignores our intellectual

confounds . • ~

wHhsemibie aPPreuensi°n of what is implied in the pregnant
association. wor(j « therefore." He tells us :* " Inference lies at
the very root of mental life : for the very combination of
present feelings with past feelings, and the consequent infer
ence that what was formerly felt in conjunction with one
group of feelings, will again be felt if the conditions are re
instated — this act of inference is necessary to the perception
of the object 'apple,' and is like in kind to all other judg
ments. Inference is 'seeing with the mind's eye,'— rein-

' Problems of Life and Mind,' vol. i. p. 257.

CHAP. II.] FIEST TEUTHS. 51

stating what has been, but now is not, present to sense."
This is an excellent exposition of what may be, and probably
is, that complex association of sensations which takes place in
brutes, and causes some of their actions to simulate inference.
It quite fails, however, to recognise that active light of the in
tellect by which we know we see a conclusion in the premisses
which we express by the word " therefore," and which we
recognise as something fundamentally different from the re
currence of one set of sensations with another with which habit
has previously associated them. Hence the curious passage,*
in which Mr. Lewes, addressing self-conscious men, says:
" To understand what reasoning is, we must first see it in
animals." And yet he admits :f " that although a conclusion
is always implicitly in its premisses, it is not always explicitly
there, and a middle term may be used to point out this
inconspicuous relation." But all that rational logicians assert
of syllogistic reasoning is, that it is a process serving to
make implicit truth explicit to us. He continues :| " Could
we realise all the links in the chain " (of reasoning) " by re
ducing conceptions to perceptions, and perceptions to sen-
sibles (and this would be effected by placing the correspond
ing objects in their actual order as a sensible series), our
most abstract reasonings would be a succession of sensations."
This is confused and misleading. Such a process, if possible,
would make us dispense with reasoning, in the case supposed,
but it would not make our " reasonings " into " successions
of sensations," the reasonings would cease. Reasonings are
also represented by philosophy as having no place in intel
ligences higher than our own — in pure intelligences — but for
another reason, namely, the power of such intelligences to see
directly, truth which to us is implicit, i.e., to see it without the
need of any process such as we require to render it explicit.

In this and the preceding chapter it has been endeavoured,
very imperfectly, to take for granted nothing not vouched for

* 'Problems of Life and Mind,' vol. ii. p. 162.
t Op. tit. p. 165. J Op. cit. p. 169.

E 2

52 LESSONS FROM NATURE. [CHAP. II.

by the acts of our own minds; though it has been impossible
(owing, at least in part, to the force of nature and natural
reason) not to use language implying- the acceptance of the
ordinary beliefs respecting the existence of a real objective
world external to our own minds.

The facts referred to in these first two chapters may be
summary summed up as follows : —

S5>nT The consideration of our own continued existence

reveals to us objective truth and our possession of it.

Our self-consciousness also reveals to us that, similarly,
there are universal, necessary, undemonstrable truths (as, e.g.,
" What thinks exists "), and that we can know them.

Similarly, our intellect shows us the validity of our own
reason, and the objective validity of the syllogism which
renders implicit truth explicit to us. We see that the
ultimate criterion of truth is a mental state of conviction
produced by our clearly perceiving that a given proposition
is positively true necessarily, and r.ot that we are in a state of
mere impotence not to think it. Such a test constitutes the
principle of certitude. This principle, those of identity and
contradiction, together with the validity of the reasoning
process and our intuition of enduring self-existence, are five
elements which together constitute a firm foundation upon
which may be raised the logical edifice of coherent truths.
All these truths have our self-consciousness, our knowledge
of the enduring Ego, as their starting-point, and are involved
in that knowledge and flow from it.

Other consequences also necessarily follow from the truths
here maintained. If our certainty as to our own con
tinuous past existence is valid (and we have seen at what a
price it can alone be denied), we may be equally certain
that, if there are other beings like ourselves who can know
us, the present existence of each of us is an objective truth
to such other beings, and our intellect carries us at once also
in this way from subjectivity to objectivity ; to the world of
existences outside our consciousness from the world of our
conscious being.

CHAP. II.] FIRST TRUTHS. 53

We may here a second time insist upon the validity of
our intuitions as the properties of space and number, that
they are truths to which no possible exception can ever
exist at any time or in any placo ; even Omnipotence itself
being unable to make two right lines inclose a space, or the
cube of 3 to be other than 27. But consequences follow
which are yet more important. To anticipate what will be
treated of later, it may be even now affirmed that the
element of moral worth which our intellect declares to
attach to certain actions under certain conditions, is justified
by our recognition of necessary truth and our perception of
it as universally and necessarily valid — an objective truth,
not a mere subjective impression. Thus that faculty of cog
nizing objective truth which is called the intellect, informs
us not only of the existence of a persistent self, the Ego, but
also of a persistent not-self, the non-Ego ; of objective rela
tions in the order of intellectual truths and of objective rela
tions in the order of mural worth. All these intuitions and
cognitions hang together as necessarily connected. To inva
lidate one is to invalidate all. To assert one is, virtually,
to assert all. They cannot be denie 1 without falling into
scepticism which invalidates its very self by its own doubt as
to the existence of the doubter who doubts it. To conclude,
men have absolute certainty of the very highest degree as to
their own existence ; and yet this certainty cannot be logi
cally asserted without implying the existence of a whole
sphere of objective truths which the intellect has the
faculty of perceiving by the very light by which those truths
manifest themselves to the intellect.

These views being accepted, we cease to be confined within
a narrow sphere of mere subjective feelings, with our highest
intellectual efforts resulting in a mere recognition of our
" Nescience." On the contrary, the nobility of man's intel
lectual nature reappears more distinctly and grandly than
before its temporary eclipse occasioned by self-refuting
doubts and a shallow psychological analysis. The intellect is,
indeed, still seen to be limited — to be capable, in its present

54 LESSONS FKOM NATUKE. [CHAP. II.

condition, of learning but in part and through sensible expe
rience ; yet it is seen to be furnished with perceptions which
are true and valid, and with a power of learning accurately
what comes within its range— the endowment of a truly
intellectual nature, though at the same time of a corporeal
organism, in other words the property of a rational animal,
that is, of man.

CHAPTER III.

THE EXTERNAL WORLD.

" The real existence of an external world made up of objects possess
ing qualities such as our faculties declare they do possess, cannot
be logically denied, and may rationally be affirmed. "

IN the two preceding chapters the endeavour has been made
to take for granted as little as might be possible A justifies-
such facts as are not given in immediate conscious- belief in the
ness. It has, indeed, been sought to show that world here

-, ,, •, . logically re-

our very consciousness itsell demands, at the price quired,
of utter scepticism, the recognition of the validity of our
conviction that something beyond consciousness really exists.
But the very title of this work implies the belief of its
author in the real existence of external, material nature,
and its purpose cannot further be pursued consistently with
out an attempt to justify such belief.

Fortunately, that justification is as little really required
for the mass of even the most cultivated part of mankind,
as is the justification of our conviction of our own con
tinued existence. As, however, to be logical, it was necessary
for us to start by justifying the latter conviction, it is
similarly needful that the more or less sceptical cavils pre
valent with respect to our real knowledge of the material
world should be disposed of in order that the subsequently
treated matters may not come before us out of their logical
order.

Ever since Descartes and Locke, more or less scepticism,
more or less uncertainty respecting the truth of our conviction
as to a really existing material world has prevailed amongst

56 LESSONS FROM NATURE. [CHAP. III.

the metaphysical \vriters most popularly known in England,
prevalent suck as, G.*?., Berkeley, Hume, Mill, Bain, Spencer,
onth^ub- &c., &c. Starting with the conception that the
modera0^-* obiects immediately known are sensations, and

losophers, . i J • j. 1

ami its cause, that the objects of perception are but mediately
known by inference from such sensations, they have, with
more or less accord, naturally arrived at the conclusion
that as inferences are liable to error there can be no
certain truth but in feelings. Yet examination of that
which self-consciousness tells us takes place in onr own
minds shows that when we look at anything, as, e.g., at a
tree, we do not perceive sensations, and infer from them
that we have before us a single, solid, enduring object
of a certain shape and colour which we call a tree ; but
that our intellect at once and instantaneously in the very
act of feeling immediately and directly perceives the tree
itself. This is what my mind declares to me to be here
and now the case. It says that it does not perceive an
image of the tree, either in the eye or elsewhere ; that
the tree is not presented to it by any intermediate agency
whatever, but that the mind, in the act of sensation, di
rectly makes the very tree itself present before it, while
at the same time it equally declares that the sensations
themselves are not the tree but are caused by the action of
my sensitive nature (my various organs of sense) and the
tree perceived.

It must be borne in mind that in our inquiry we are
compelled to start from subjectivity, and that our supreme
test is what the rnind declares here and now to be its clear,
positive, and absolute conviction. Appeals, then, from that
conviction to the infant mind, or to theoretical notions as to
the development of reason, are quite out of court. Never
theless, lest we should seem to shirk a familiar objection,
we may here note that as soon as the infant's mind knows
colours, smells, shapes, &c., it also knows the coloured,
odorous, extended objects themselves. Even the infant never
infers from sensations to objects, its intellect recognises the

CHAP. III.] THE EXTERNAL WORLD. 57

one as soon as the other, though at first it can of course
recognise neither.

He who is often spoken of as the parent of idealism,
Berkeley, taught that nothing existed outside us but other
minds, and that the apparently existing external world was
but the action of the Divine mind upon created minds; and
some modification of idealism, of a less pious nature,is professed
by most of the writers on philosophy popular in England
to-day — by Tyndall and by Huxley equally with Bain and Mill.

John Stuart Mill conceived the material world as made
up of "permanent possibilities of sensation," but Mr. John
admitted the reasonableness of the belief in some s
kind of an external world beyond consciousness, and in the
existence of other " threads of consciousness " besides our
own. Mill, for a logician, had a singular tendency to con
tradict and refute himself, and Mr. Martiiieau has pointed
out * how, by Mill's system, " we are landed in this singular
result ; our only sphere of cognisable reality is subjective :
and that is generated from an objective world which we have
no reason to believe exists. In our author's theory of
cognition, the non-ego disappears in the ego ; in the theory
of being, the ego lapses back into the non-ego. Idealist in
the former, he is materialist in the latter."

But if Mill is open to this charge of inconsistency, a
fortiori are those teachers of physical science or psychology
open to it, who, professing idealism, teach what is practically
materialism — keeping " the word of promise to our ear to
break it to our hope." As to such teachers, Mr. Sterling
remarks f (referring immediately to Mr. Bain): "is not
materialism all that is for them fundamental? and is not the
idealism but, profanely to say it, the tongue in the cheek —
to the priest, who incontinently sinks silent, dumbfounded ?"

Mr. Herbert Spencer differs notably from the general run
of thinkers of the school of Mill in that he asserts Mr. spencer's
himself to be not an Idealist but a Realist, and Realism.

Essays,' p. 101. t 'As regards Protoplasm,' p. 62.

58 LESSONS FROM NATUEE. [CHAP. III.

even actively combats idealism. To his own system he gives
the title of " Transfigured Kealism."

In the seventh part of his Psychology, Mr. Spencer justifies
in several ways what he thus calls "realism," that is, his
belief that the external, material world really exists objec
tively, "and in such a way that each change in the objective
reality causes in the subjective state a change exactly
answering to it— so answering as to constitute a cognition

of it."* '

This view lie justifies by an argument from "priority," i.e.,
ins justified- from tne fact tllat tne realistic conception is prior
tionotu. to j.jie idea]istic conception, so that t "in no mind
whatever can the idealistic conception be reached except
through the realistic one."

He also justifies it by an " argument from simplicity,"
which consists of a demonstration that, if our conviction of
the world's existence is not an intuition but an inference,
then the system of idealism is an inference indefinitely more
cumbrous and complex, and therefore more liable to error.
He says : — t

" While the first involves but a single mediate act, the second in
volves a succession of mediate acts, each of which is itself made up of
several mediate acts. Hence, if the one mediate act of Realism is to
be invalidated by the multitudinous acts of Idealism, it must be on
the supposition that if there is doubtfulness in a single step of a given
kind, there is less doubtfulness in many steps of this kind."

Finally, he advances an "argument from distinctness,"
which reposes on the far greater vividness of sensations than
of ideas which, according to Mr. Spencer, are but plexuses of
faint sensations.

He also§ contends against thinkers of the schools of
Hume, Berkeley, and Kant, that their very expositions of
idealism cannot be made without the use of terms which
imply that very realism they deny.

* 'Psychology,' vol. ii. p. 497. The italics are ours.

t Op. cit. p. 374.

j Op. cit. p. 378.

§ Op. cit. pp. 312-366.

CHAP. III.] THE EXTEENAL WOULD. 59

Here, then, we are led to infer that the common belief
is valid, and that space, time, figure, number, extension,
motion, &c., really exist objectively as they are subjectively
apprehended. It must be so, since no system can be deemed
either primitive, simple, or distinct, which asserts that neither
extension, nor figure, nor number is in reality what it appears,
or that the objective connexions amongst these properties
are what they seem to us to be, or that * " what we are con
scious of as properties of matter, even down to its weight
and resistance, are but subjective affections produced by
objective agencies which are unknown and unknowable."

Yet this is the outcome actually arrived at by our author —
a result which to most will appear little distin- Outcome
guished from scepticism, since it is admitted by °nt-
him to agree with idealism and scepticism in affirming that
the subjective modification of consciousness in the perception
of any external body " contains no element, relation, or law
that is like any element, relation, or law," in such external body.

Thus the universe, as we know it, disappears not merely
from our gaze, but from our very thought. Not only the
song of the nightingale, the brilliancy of the diamond, the
perfume of the rose, and the savour of the peach lose for us
all objective reality — these we might spare and live — but
the solidity of the very ground we tread on, nay, even the
coherence and integrity of our own material frame, dissolve
from us, and leave us vaguely floating in an insensible ocean
of unknowable potentiality. And this is REALISM; this is
what is justified to us by being primitive, simple, and
distinct, as being prior to idealism, " everywhere and always,
in child, in savage, in rustic, in the metaphysician himself." t

Mr. Spencer may well call this " Transfigured Realism."
If he were to invite hungry men to a feast, and having dis
coursed to them on the digestibility of sauces and meats, the
relations of appetite, digestion, and nutrition, then led them
into a room not furnished with tables supporting the meats

* ' Psychology,' vol. ii. p. 493.
f Op. cit. vol. ii. p. 374.

60 LESSONS FROM NATUEE. [CHAP. III.

themselves, but hung round instead with tables of the
chemical formulae of animal substances, the disappointment
of his guests would hardly.be less than that of many readers
who, having read his arguments from priority, simplicity,
and distinctness, come finally upon " transfigured realism " as
the result.

I am, of course, quite aware of the distinctions drawn by
Mr. Spencer between what he calls crude realism and the
realism adopted by him, but whether or not his metaphysical
position be tenable, I am quite certain it cannot be defended
by arguments which are valid only to support that dualism,
that distinctness yet true correspondence between matter
and mind, which has been, and ever will be, the natural and
practically ineradicable spontaneous conviction of mankind.

To criticism of this kind, however, as made by Mr. Henry
His reply to Sidgwick, Mr. Spencer has replied at length in the
criticism. 'Fortnightly Eeview' for November 1873. In
order, therefore, to be quite sure of not misrepresenting him
or doing him unintentional injustice, I quote his reply in
extenso. He tells us : —

" All which my argument implies is that the direct intuition of
Realism must be held of superior authority to the arguments of Anti-
Realism, where their deliverances cannot be rtconcihd. The one point on
which their deliverances cannot be reconciled is the existence of an
objective reality. But while against this intuition of Realism I hold
the arguments of Anti-Realism to be powerless, because they cannot be
carried on without postulating that which they end by denying ; yet,
having admitted objective existence as a necessary postulate, it is pos
sible to make valid criticisms upon all those judgments which Crude
Realism joins with this primordial judgment : it is possible to show
that a transfigured interpretation of properties and relations is more
tenable than the original interpretation.

" To elucidate the matter, let us take the most familiar case in
which the indirect judgments of Reason correct the direct judgments
of Common Sense. The direct judgment of Common Sense is that the
Sun moves round the Earth. In course of time, Reason finds certain
difficulties in accepting this dictum as true. Eventually, Reason hits
upon an hypothesis which explains the anomalies, but which denies
this apparently-certain dictum of Common Sense. What is the recon
ciliation ? It consists in showing to Common Sense a mode of inter-

CHAP. III.] THE EXTERNAL WORLD. 61

pretation which equally well corresponds with direct intuition, while
it avoids all the difficulties. Common Sense is reminded that the
apparent motion of an object may be due either to its actual motion or
to the motion of the observer ; and that there ave terrestrial experiences
in which the observer thinks an object he looks at is moving, when the
motion is in himself. Extending the conception thus given, Reason
shows that if the Earth revolves on its axis there will result that appa
rent motion of the Sun which Common Sense interpreted into an actual
motion of the Sun; and the common-sense observer becomes thereupon
able to think of sunrise and sunset as consequent on his position as
spectator on a vast revolving globe. Now if the astronomer, setting
out by recognizing these celestial appearances, and proceeding to
evolve the various anomalies following from the common-sense inter
pretation of them, had drawn the conclusion that there externally exist
no Sun and no motion at all, he would have done what Idealists do ;
and his arguments would have been equally powerless against the
intuition of Common Sense. But he does nothing of the kind. He
accepts the intuition of Common Sense respecting the reality of the
Sun and of the motion ; but replaces the old interpretation of it by a
new interpretation reconcilable with all the facts.

" Just in the same way that here, acceptance of the inexpugnable
element in the common-sense judgment by no means involves accept
ance of the accompanying judgments; so, in the case of Crude Realism,
it does not follow that while against the consciousness of an objective
reality the arguments of Anti-Realism are utterly futile, they are
therefore futile against the conceptions which Crude Realism forms of
the objective reality. If Anti-Realism can show that, granting an
objective reality, the interpretation of Crude Realism contains insuper
able difficulties, the process is quite legitimate. And, its primordial
intuition remaining unshaken, Realism may, on reconsideration, be
enabled to frame a new conception which harmonizes all the facts.

" To show that there is not here the 'mazy inconsistency' alleged,
let us take the case of sound as interpreted by Crude Realism, and as
re-interpreted by Transfigured Realism. Crude Realism assumes the
sound present in consciousness to exist as such beyond consciousness.
Anti-Realism proves the inadmissibility of this assumption in sundry
ways (all of which, however, set out by talking of sounding bodies
beyond consciousness, just as Realism talks of them) ; and then Anti-
Realism concludes that we know of no existence save the sound as
a mode of consciousness : which conclusion, and all kindred conclu
sions, I contend are vicious — first, because all the words used connote
an objective activity; second, because the arguments are impossible
without postulating at the outset an objective activity ; and third, be
cause no one of the intuitions out of which the arguments are built is
of equal validity with the single intuition of Realism that an objective
activity exists. But now the Transfigured Realism which Mr. Sidgwick

62 LESSONS FKOM NATUEE. [CHAP. III.

thinks ' has all the serious incongruity of an intense metaphysical
dream/ neither affirms the untenable conception of Crude Eealism,
nor, like Anti-Realism, draws unthinkable conclusions by suicidal
arguments ; but, accepting that which is essential in Crude Realism,
and admitting the difficulties which Anti-Realism insists upon, recon
ciles matters by a re-interpretation analogous to that which an astro
nomer makes of the solar motion. Continuing all along to recognize
an objective activity which Crude Realism calls sound, it shows that
the sensation is produced by a succession of separate impacts which, if
made slowly, may be separately identified, and which will, if progres
sively increased in rapidity, produce tones higher and higher in pitch.
It shows by other experiments that sounding bodies are in states of
vibration, and that the vibrations may be made visible. And it con
cludes that the objective activity is not what it subjectively seems, but
is proximately interpretable as a succession of aerial waves. Thus
Crude Realism is shown that while there unquestionably exists an
objective activity corresponding to the sensation known as sound, yet
the facts are not explicable on the original supposition that this is like
the sensation ; while they are explicable by conceiving it as a rhythmical
mechanical action. Eventually this re-interpretation, joined with kin
dred re-interpretations of other sensations, comes to be itself further
transfigured by analysis of its terms, and re- expression of them in
terms of molecular motion ; but however abstract the interpretation
ultimately reached, the objective activity continues to be postulated :
the primordial judgment of Crude Realism remains unchanged, though
it has to change the rest of its judgments."

But, in spite of all that Mr. Spencer can urge, it must be
itsinsuffi- affirmed, our reason assures us, that the number,
figure, and extension of objects are just as certainly
real as is the existence of anything beyond consciousness at all.
If our conceptions of solidity, figure, and extension are delu
sions, scepticism has indeed an impregnable stronghold. But,
as we shall shortly see, Mr. Spencer goes so far as to discredit
the validity of our perceptions even as to difference itself.

Mr. Spencer, in his proof-case just quoted, however, bases
™ea™0f" his argument upon an alleged delusion we neces-
sound. sariiy iie under with respect to sound, and this is a
matter of great importance in his psychology.

He says :* "Although the individual sensations and emo
tions, real or ideal, of which consciousness is built up, appear

' Psychology.' vol. i. p 148, § 60.

CHAP. III.] THE EXTERNAL WORLD. 63

to be severally simple, homogeneous, unanalysable, or of in
scrutable natures, yet they are not so. There is at least one
kind of feeling which, as ordinarily experienced, seems ele
mentary, that is, demonstrably, not elementary." ..." Mu
sical sound is the name we give to this seemingly simple
feeling, which is clearly resolvable into simpler feelings."
He then goes on to remind us that slow taps are heard as
taps, but when very rapid " the noises are no longer identi
fied in separate states of consciousness, and there arises in
place of them a continuous state of consciousness, called a
tone ;" that this rises in pitch with the rapidity of the taps,
and that other simultaneous similar series produce timbre. This
is further enforced elsewhere (p. 199), by recalling to mind
how the same vibrating tuning-fork jars the teeth, and at the
same time " awakens " through the skull " a consciousness of
sound," apparently showing that the very same thing is under
different circumstances <; feeling of touch " and " perception
of tone." The fallacy which Mr. Spencer has here fallen
into is the one well known in logic as the fallacia unius
causas—o\\Q fully discussed by Mr. Mill in his chapter on
the law of causation.

But I deny in toto the truth of Mr. Spencer's assertions
as to such feelings. Not only I deny that the The troth of

!_• j • j» i • )> i 1 • , his affirma-

one kind ot leeling selected is " demonstrably "ons denied
not elementary," but I affirm that it is demonstrable that
what Mr. Spencer terms its "proximate components"
are no parts of it at all. My position may be demon
strated thus : — Kecurring sensations of beating and jar do
not become a sound, they are " sound " at once, as soon as
perceived by the auditory organ at all. Similarly a musical
note is not made up of rapid audible beats, but only begins
to exist when the beat-sounds cease. A " perception of mu
sical tone" and a perception of " beat" are different feelings.
All that Mr. Spencer really shows and proves is that diverse
conditions result in the evocation of diverse simple percep
tions, of which perceptions such conditions are the occasions.
He does not in the least show that such perceptions (of a

64 LESSONS FROM NATURE. [CHAP. III.

musical note) are made up of other sensations (slightly-heard,
shocks, or raps). The first sensations, the heard-raps, cease
entirely, and give place to the other musical note, but there
is no evidence that they constitute the other.

According to Mr. Spencer's argument, if a certain number
of taps produce a pleasant feeling, and an increased number
in the same time cause pain, we must conclude that pleasure
and pain are the same feeling ! The physical conditions of
feeling are one thing, the feelings themselves are another.
With different physical conditions \\Q may have different
feelings. Because two kinds of auditory sensation have for
cause the same visible object in different states, it. no more
follows that they are the same than that seeing and hearing
are the same because a vibrating cord is seen by the eye as
well as heard by the ear.

To an objection of Mr. Sidg wick's, that "Mr. Spencer, for
Mr.spencer's the purposes of objective psychology, apparently
chparyget0ofthe professes to know matter and motion really, while,
as a result of subjective analysis, he concludes that
they cannot be known," Mr. Spencer himself replies
as follows : —

" Doubtless there seems here to be what he calls ' a fundamental
incoherence.' But I think it exists, not between my two expositions,
but between the two consciousnesses of subjective and objective exist
ence, which we cannot suppress and yet cannot put into definite forms.
The alleged incoherence I take to be but another name for the inscru
tability of the relation between subjective feeling and its objective
correlate which is not feeling — an inscrutability which meets us at the
bottom of all our analyses. An exposition of this inscrutability I have
elsewhere summed up thus : —

" See, then, our predicament. We can think of Matter only in terms
of Mind. We can think of Mind only in terms of Matter. When we
have pushed our explorations of the first to the uttermost limit, we
are referred to the second for a final answer ; and when we have got
the final answer of the second, we are referred back to the first for an
interpretation of it. We find the value of x in terms of y ; then we find
the value of y in terms of x ; and so on we may continue for ever
without coming nearer to a solution." — Prin. of Psy., § 272.

" Carrying a little further this simile, will, I think, show where lies
the insuperable difficulty felt by Mr. Sidgwick. Taking x and y as

CHAP. III.] THE EXTERNAL WORLD. 65

the subjective and objective activities, unknown in their natures and
known only as phenomenally manifested ; and recognizing the fact
that every state of consciousness implies, immediately or remotely, the
action of object on subject or subject on object, or both ; we may say
that every state of consciousness will be symbolized by some modifica
tion of x y — the phenomenally-known product of the two unknown
factors. In other words, xy' , a'y, x'y', x"j,', x'y", &c., &c., will represent
all perceptions and thoughts. Suppose, now, that these are thoughts
aboiit the object ; composing some hypothesis respecting its characters
as analyzed by physicists. Clearly, all such thoughts, be they about
shapes, resistances, momenta, molecules, molecular motions, or what
not, will contain some form of the subjective activity x. Now let the
thoughts be concerning mental processes. It must similarly happen
that some mode of the unknown objective activity y will be in every
case a component. Now suppose that the problem is the genesis of
mental phenomena ; and that in the course of the inquiry bodily organi
zation and the functions of the nervous system are brought into the
explanation. It will happen, as before, that these, considered as ob
jective, have to be described and thought about in modes of x y. And
when by the actions of such a nervous system, conceived objectively in
modes of x y, and acted upon by physical forces which are conceived in
other modes of y y, we endeavour to explain the genesis of sensations,
perceptions, and ideas, which we can think of only in other modes of
x y, we find that all our factors, and therefore all our interpretations,
contain the two unknown terms, and that no interpretation is imaginable
that will not contain the two unknown terms.

" What is the defence for this apparent^ circular process ? Simply
that it is a process of establishing conyruily among our symbols. It is
finding a mode of so symbolizing the unknown activities, subjective
and objective, and so operating with our symbols, that all our acts
may be rightly guided — guided, that is, in such ways that we can anti
cipate, when, where, and in what quantity one of our symbols will be
found. Mr. Sidgwick's difficiTlty arises, I think, from having insuffi
ciently borne in mind the statements made at the outset, in ' The Data
of Philosophy,' that such conceptions as 'are vital, or cannot be
separated from the rest without mental dissolution, must be assumed
as true provisionally ;? that there is no mode of establishing the validity
of any belief except that of showing its entire congruity with all other
beliefs, and that ' Philosophy, compelled to make those fundamental
assumptions without which thought is impossible, has to justify them
by showing their congruity with all other dicta of consciousness.'
In pursuance of this distinctly-avowed mode of procedure, I assume
as true, provisionally, certain modes of formulating the manifestations
of the unknown objective activity, certain modes of formulating the
manifestations of the unknown subjective activity, and certain result
ing modes of conceiving the operations of the one on the other. These

F

86 LESSONS FROM NATURE. [CHAP. III.

provisional assumptions, having been carried out to all their conse
quences, and these consequences proved to be congruous with one
another and with the original assumptions, these original assumptions
are justified; and if, finally, I assert, as I have repeatedly asserted,
that the terms in which I express my assumptions and carry on my
operations are but symbolic, and that all I have done is to show that
by certain ways of symbolizing, perfect harmony results — invariable
agreement between the symbols in which I frame my expectations, and
the symbols which occur in experience — I cannot be blamed for inco
herence. Lastly, should it be said that this regarding of everything
constituting experience and thought as symbolic has a very shadowy
aspect, I reply that these which I speak of as symbols are real re
latively to our consciousness ; and are symbolic only in their relation
to the ultimate reality."

So much for Mr. Spencer's reply, which I have been
Rejoinder to anxious to represent completely and in extenso. And

1 reply' no doubt, as might be expected in a thinker of his
repute, the incoherence referred to must be attributed less to
him than to the unfortunate system he adopts. But inco
herence there none the less really is ; and if such incoherence
results, as he says it does, from his theory of consciousness,
so much the worse for that theory. We who are absolutely
certain that our intellect has the power (however and whence-
soever obtained) of knowing both mind and matter as real,
objective, persisting existences, are not driven into any such
inconsistency and incoherence; and if incoherence of the
mind be, as Mr. Spencer himself asserts it to be, a necessary
consequence of his system, it amounts, in fact, to a reductio
ad absurdum of that system itself.

Before however considering that climax of negation, Mr.
Need of a Spencer's denial of the objective validity of our
^eylffi very perception of "difference" itself, it will be

positions. 11 , . „ ,,

well to review carefully, and in some detail, one or
two of his anterior assertions and inferences with regard to
the mind, and its relation to existences external to it.

Indeed, Mr. Spencer's views, as expressed by him in his
Hisobserva- ' Psychology,' merit a more careful exposition,

tions on the XI,_.L J.T, -\

relativity of tftat tne reader may be able to estimate fairly his

our feelings, j • i f .1 . n „ •

denial ol the truth of what our faculties tell us.

CHAP. III.] THE EXTERNAL WORLD. 07

Therein he also urges, in advocacy of the relativity of our
feelings, that certain oscillations produce an auditory feel
ing, but only in one organ, and that the same oscillations
produce other feelings in other organs; whence, he says,
we may become fully convinced that the form of objective
action we call " sound " has not the slightest kinship in
nature with the sensation of sound which it arouses in us.
He argues similarly with respect to the other senses, de
claring that "the subjective state no more resembles" its
objective cause " than the pressure which moves the trigger
of a gun resembles the explosion which follows." So also, he
says, we may conclude with respect to tension and other sen
sations of mechanical force ; " thus we are brought to the
conclusion that what we are conscious of as properties of
matter, even down to its weight and resistance, are but sub
jective affections produced by objective agencies that are
unknown and unknowable. All the sensations produced in
us by environing things are but symbols of actions out of
ourselves, the natures of which we cannot even conceive."
But here he is too hasty. Though all sensations would of
course vanish in an insentient universe, qualities these senses
make known might nevertheless be known by pure intellect,
and thus all the objectivity in sensations which the greatest
" realist" would desire will have existed in the world for all
time. It is the ego which perceives that the violet is sweet,
though it is the nose which smells it ; and though, of course,
we cannot conceive (because the elementary experience is
lacking) how such sweetness could become known without
a sense-organ, can we really understand how it is known
to us with one ? No one ever supposed a mechanical
force to resemble a sensation, but to become manifested to
us through sensations. The senses are inadequate to ex
haustively reveal all objectivity, but they are not menda
cious. Our sensations are, as Mr. Spencer says, " symbols,"
but they are symbols by and through which the intellect
comes to know objectivity — being, substance, extension,
number, form, &c., things not to be expressed except in

F 2

08 LESSONS FROM NATURE. [CiiAi>. III.

terms of sensation, but nevertheless not apprehended as

sensations.

He goes on to declare* the harmony of nervous physiology
with his view, saying that when the structures of nerve-
threads are considered, it becomes inconceivable that any
resemblance exists between the subjective effect and that
objective cause which arouses it through the intermediation
of changes resembling neither. That it becomes inconceiv
able how sucli a resemblance can be produced, coneedo ; that
it is inconceivable that it is produced, nego. Moreover, by the
term "effect" is here properly meant, not the sensation
merely, but the intellectual conceptions made known in sen
sation. Comparatively few persons will be ready to concede
that as regards the extension, number, and shape of objects,
" there is no likeness either in kind or degree " | between
such qualities as they exist objectively, and as they are known
to us subjectively by the agency of our bodily organs.

He nextj turns to what he calls "an all-important im
plication," namely, the existence of an external world— to
our conviction "that the active antecedent of each primary
feeling exists independently of consciousness." But how
then can Mr. Spencer dare to affirm dogmatically that
there is no likeness between that antecedent as objectively
existing and that antecedent as known by us? We, on
the contrary, may quite logically on other grounds arrive
at an independent conclusion that there is such a likeness.
"Likeness" I assert; "identity" I, of course, deny. Pro
bably the material universe is clothed in a splendour of
multitudinous kinds, some few of which are partly and feebly
revealed to us with varying degrees of incompleteness by
our senses, though revealed with ample sufficiency for our
needs. Probably it everywhere throbs with objective har
monies, appreciated fully by pure spirits, and made known
to us in a rudimentary and fragmentary way through vibra-

* « Psychology,' vol. i. p. 207, § 87. f Op. cit. p. 194.

I Op. cit. § 88.

CHAP. III.] THE EXTERNAL WORLD. 69

tion in our ears. And so with sight, smell, touch, and taste.
" Touch " is but a minute acquaintance with surface as ex
tended and figured; and even "taste," though to us known
so poorly and so rarely as to seem unworthy for spiritual en
joyment, may be conceived, though not imagined, to be a
perennial source of spiritual enjoyment, not of course as
tasted by an organ, but as intellectually known and
apprehended.

The absence of light subjectively is darkness, and most of
Mr. Spencer's school would deem the objective Th
universe to be dark and also silent. But these

,. ,, i i >, i ,, -i j) 11 ing tlie objec-

conceptions, darkness and a silence, are really tive validity

• T i ^ i mi i ofourpercep-

as "subi!jctive as light and sound. Ine absence tionsasto
, . i • • i even tlie se~

or liirht as "sensed by us is not objectively condary

, . , qualities of

"darkness," but something which we cannot con- objects.
ceive. To think of the unseen universe as dark is to express
objectivity in terms of the subjective, and is just as much to
attribute objectivity to mere subjective sentiency as would
be to adopt the most vulgar notion of the reality in the
external world of our own very feelings of different kinds.
Mr. Spencer's denial of likeness between the subjective and
objective is indeed most unreasonable. He may say that
from his point of view he sees no evidence, actual or possible,
of such likeness, but he cannot affirm, without irrational
arrogance, that our senses cannot have been organised so as,
most mysteriously, to make us truly acquainted with objec
tive existences, together with a variety of the powers and
properties which such existences possess.

XVhen treating of the relativity of relations between feel
ings, he observes:* "When we see that what is, Mr Spencer
objectively considered, the same connection between tTJity^frcfa-
things may, as a space-relation in consciousness, be twwnbfe~ei-
single or double; when we remember that, accord- mgs'
ing as we are near or far off, it may be too large to be
simultaneously perceived, or too small to be perceived at

* Op. cit. pp. 214, 215.

70 LESSONS FROM NATURE. [CHAP. III.

all ; it becomes impossible to suppose any identity between
this objective connection and some one of the multitudinous
subjective relations answering to it." But surely this is the
very poorest and shallowest sophistry. No one has supported
the assertion of "IDENTITY" even between the intellectual
concept gathered from changing phenomena, and the object
of that concept itself ; still less between it and " some one of
the multitudinous subjective relations [feelings] answering to
it." But this absence of identity does not even go one step
towards invalidating the correspondence between certain of
the objective characters of objects and intellectual cognitions
of such objects in and by the sensations they occasion, which
sensations present them (in the sense of "make them present"
to the intellect.

Next (p. 215, § 91) he examines compound relations of
on the effects sequence, and he considers that herein qualitative
agfand^t'e differences of apprehension may be produced by the
of sequence8, different structures of different animals, adding,
" there is most likely a marked qualitative difference between
that undeveloped sense of duration derived solely from the
experiences of inner changes, and that developed conception
of time derived mainly from outer changes, but conceived to
be a form of both outer and inner changes."

Now as to qualitative differences in animal sensations, all
Mr. Spencer requires may be conceded, as such differences
are but the materials of intellect. But if an intellectual
animal could think by means of such materials of merely in
ternal sensations as those Mr. Spencer supposes, such an
animal would perceive time itself to be such as (like in
nature to) the time we perceive — though its mode of arriving
at such perception would be different. It need hardly be
added that there is indeed a difference of quality between
our perception of time and any feelings of a polyp.

As to quantitative differences of perception of sequence
he remarks (p. 216) : " Months to the old man appear no
longer than weeks to the young man." Just so, the old man
remarks a changed condition of sensibility, and he perceives

CHAP. III.] THE EXTERNAL WORLD. 71

a similarity of feeling between months now and weeks formerly
as a result of that change ; but he does not intellectually
perceive months to le weeks, though they feel like them
to him.

As to the effect of opium, &c., I readily concede all Mr.
Spencer advances, but the matter is of no moment and beside
the question.

With respect to changes produced by " change of position
among our experiences," he remarks (p. 217), as to the re
collection of an evening passed somewhere a year ago :
" There is a conviction that it was several hours long ; but
when contemplated it cannot be made of equal apparent
length with the several hours just passed." I reply to this
singularly frivolous remark — to the feelings, no ! to the in
tellect, yes ! It would be inconvenient as well as useless if our
feelings did not change with distance in time as well as in
place. Mr. Spencer admits a " CONVICTION," what more can
we possibly require ? He adds (p. 218), " life seems no longer
at forty than it did at twenty." This is not my experience.
I can recollect the leading events back year after year for
thirty years, which I could not have done at twenty. He
also says : " To a lowly-endowed creature, conscious only of
internally-initiated changes, it [time] cannot appear what it
does to a creature chiefly occupied with changes that are ex
ternally initiated ; since, in the last, it is partially dissociated
from both orders of changes. Whence it seems inferable that,
only partially dissociated as it is, it cannot have in consciousness
that qualitative character which absolute dissociation would
give it, and which we must suppose it to have objectively."
This he maintains on account of the reason just before given,
that "time, considered as an abstract from relations of
sequence, must present a different aspect according to the
degree of its dissociation from particular sequences." But to
this may be replied: The idea of time is one thing, the
possibility of recalling a greater or lesser number of more or
less vivid phantasmata of things which happened in a given
quantity of time, say a month or year, is a very different one ;

72 LESSONS FEOM NATUBE. [CiiAP. III.

nor, probably, would even Mr. Spencer have ever confounded
them together had not his theory obliged him to do so.

Mr. Spencer concludes this section by saying that " com
pound relations of sequences as we conceive them cannot be
quantitatively like the connections beyond consciousness to
which they refer, is proved by the facts that they vary in their
apparent lengths with the structure of the organism, with its
size, with its age, with its constitutional state, with the
number and vividness of the impressions it receives, and with
their relative positions in consciousness. Manifestly, as no
one of these variously-estimated lengths can be taken as valid
rather than the others, it becomes impossible to suppose
equality between an interval of time as present to conscious
ness, and any nexus of things which it symbolises." But
these difficulties as to time may be answerer! in a way parallel
to that in which those of space were replied to. " Feelings "
change, but do not necessarily carry with them changes in
the intellectual perceptions they occasion ; nay, the very fact
of the phenomenal changes brings out yet more clearly the
objectivity they reveal, and which is known by and to the
intellect correctly, in spite of sensational variations, when the
organism is not so deranged that the intellectual faculties are
thereby paralysed.

He then (p. 219, § 92) proceeds to consider the compound
relation of difference, and he infers that (since it " has to be
conceived in terms of impressions that differ ; and since the
conception of difference cannot be dissociated from the order
of impressions in which it is presented, if there is but one
such order"), the " conception of difference becomes more in
dependent of particular differences," "in proportion as the
impressions become more multitudinous in their kinds," " and
that, therefore, in higher creatures it is not qualitatively the same
as in lower creatures" This should in fact be thus amplified,
and such amplification would do away with that confusion
between intellect and sense which Mr. Spencer makes. He
should say : Therefore in higher creatures the material (the
direct sensitive cognition of things ivhich differ) is gradually

CHAP. III. THE EXTEENAL WOKLD. 73

more and more elaborated, so that when taken up ly 'an in
tellectual principle it is far indeed from being the same as in
lower creatures.

He observes (p. 221) "that the compound relation of
difference, as we know it, is dependent on structure," size,
and state. I reply : As we " know it," meaning, as it is pre
sented to us sensibly — yes ! As we " know it," meaning, as it is
presented to us intellectually — no !

We come now to the climax of negation before referred to,
namely, Mr. Spencer's denial of the objective validity On the-rela.
of our perception of " difference " itself — presuming "™ per!^-611
Mr. Spencer means "difference " and not individual quenclfco-
differences between sensations. At p. 222, § 93, dffference?™*
he considers the pure relations of co-existence, s^eaccom""
sequence and difference, and concludes that their pan
relations "as we know them" do not obtain beyond con
sciousness, because they cannot be thought of without a
" tacit recognition " of concrete existence ultimately derived
from our feelings. But as to this it may be replied that
"difference" (like genus and species) exists formally only
in mind, though materially in things. The abstract is not, of
course, the concrete. As to the " tacit recognition " of the
concrete, that is merely the phantasmata necessary to all
knowledge in our present condition. They are merely
counters made use of by the mind. We understand five
purely; through five counters, or five anythings. What
proves that Mr. Spencer can think of pure abstract difference
is, that he can write about it. Then as to this expression
above quoted, " as we know them," we may reply : " As," in
the sense of the means whereby we have them— no ! " As," in
the sense of agreeing with our intellectual apprehension so
obtained — yes !

He next goes on (for the sake of clearness !) to attempt to
simplify the expressions co-existence and sequence by means
of terms expressing existences which in the first have, in the
second have not, differences " in their order." Phenomena
which can be experienced in different orders of succession (as

74 LESSONS FROM NATURE. [CHAP. III-

the phenomena presented by an orange) being phenomena of
co-existence, while those which can be experienced only in a
single order (as those of a musical air) are phenomena of
sequence. But what is the meaning of order if we have not
yet got sequence, i.e., time ? It may be contended that order
as an intellectual act is primary, but anyhow it cannot be
really understood without the addition in thought of either
space or time.

Mr. Spencer sums up (p. 224) by reducing all perception to
shocks accompanying transitions from one feeling to another.
" That is, the relation of difference as present in consciousness
is nothing more than a change in consciousness. How, then,
can it resemble, or be in any way akin to, its sources beyond
consciousness?" But what can be the meaning of saying
that it is not akin, and differs from its source, if the category
of difference is not applicable beyond feeling ? If it is not so
applicable, then it no more differs than it agrees, there being
simply no relation. In fact, however, the perception of dif
ference is elicited by shocks of sensitive change, but it itself
is very much more, and the intellectual unit is a perception of
being and non-being.

He goes on to say there is nothing between two colours, as
they objectively exist, " answering to the change which re
sults in us from contemplating first one and then the other."
I reply : Nothing between them like to the feeling of the
change in the sensible perception — no! Like to what the
intellect apprehends concomitantly with that feeling — yes !
" Their relation [the two colours] as we think it, leing nothing
else than a change of our state, cannot possibly be parallel to
anything between them, when they have both remained un
changed." This is equivalent to saying that no one thing
differs from any other objectively ; because no objective dif
ference whatever is the same as a nervous shock. But this
extreme position may be turned round and made use of to
prove the objectivity . of extension, since the objectivity of
" difference" is certain, and yet it is the very same arguments
(thus shown to be futile) which are brought against the ob-

CHAP. III.] THE EXTERNAL WORLD. 75

jectivity of extension which are brought against the objecti
vity of " difference." Moreover, if a subjective relation of
difference cannot exist without the momentary co-existence
of its terms, the objectivity of difference is most true on this
very account, because an objective relation cannot exist
without this momentary existence of its terms.

He then (p. 224, § 94) tries to show that physiology har
monises with his doctrine, saying that all relations Mr.sPencer'S
are composed of nervous elements, not " intrinsically nervous reia-
differeut," and therefore cannot resemble " intrin- tlons'
sically-different objective connections." But what, then, is
meant by using the term " intrinsically different ?" Moreover,
a set of apparently similar nerves may be as truly organized
for revealing a variety of objective conditions as any one set.
Mr. Spencer has fallen into the fallacy that the effect as
such must resemble its cause.

He tells us that " it needs but to think of a brain as a
seat of nervous discharges, intermediate between actions in
the outer world and actions in the world of thought, to be
impressed with the absurdity of supposing that the connections
among outer actions, after being transferred through the me
dium of nervous discharges, can reappear in the world of
thought in the forms they originally had." But where is the
" absurdity ? " It is indeed true that it is most mysterious
how the nervous system gives us even any one symbolical
message from objectivity such as Mr. Spencer allows that it
does give. It is not really a bit more mysterious how it can
reveal to us the objective relations which the realist believes
it does reveal than how it reveals what Mr. Spencer allows
it does reveal. Even he must admit that it can never be
disproved that the universe has been so ordered that real ob
jective relations become known to us through these "sensible
symbols," provided we are adult, healthy, and use all our
organs and faculties, sensible and intelligent. For what can
be more absurd, when God has given us five senses to make
use of, to complain that the use of one by itself leads into
error ? The truthfulness of the intellect's report as to the

76 LESSONS FROM NATURE. [CHAP. III.

qualities of the objective world has the same basis as has its
report as to the objective existence of that objective world,
and the latter reposes on reason, as Mr. Spencer truly repre
sents. He ends the chapter (p. 225, § 05) by referring to
the assumption universally made that "there exist beyond
consciousness, conditions of objective manifestation which are
symbolised by relations as we conceive them." "The very
proposition that what we l<now as a relation .... does not
resemble any order or nexus beyond consciousness, implies
that there exists some such order or nexus beyond conscious
ness." But how can it be "some such" order or nexus if
there is no resemblance between them — "no likeness be
tween them either in kind or degree?" (p. 194, § 78). The
only meaning Mr. Spencer can really have is that which all
philosophers would, of course, concede, namely, that objec
tive conditions are not identical with subjective sensibilities,
though made known to us through the latter by a complex
and indirect process.

He then concludes by asserting the reality of an absolute
AS to the and unknowable ontological order, giving rise to

reality of an i • ,

ontoiogicai the phenomenal order, and an ontological nexus

order and

nexus. giving rise to phenomenal differences. " Though
the relation of difference constituted, as we have seen, by a
change in consciousness, cannot be IDENTIFIED with anything
beyond consciousness ; yet that there is something beyond
consciousness to which it is due, is an inevitable conclusion ;
since to think otherwise is to think of change taking place
without an antecedent" (pp. 226, 227). In the last words
we see Mr. Spencer admits the fundamental nature of the
law of causality. But the word "identified" should be care
fully noted. Certainly what he speaks of cannot be identified,
but whoever said it could ? Whoever thought of identifying
the mechanism of perception with the thing perceived ? If
he had only contended against " identity" instead of against
" likeness " " either in kind or degree," there would have
been no word to dispute, and no ill effects would have been
involved, in his system. The ontological order — dark to

CHAP. III.] THE EXTERNAL WORLD. 77

bmtes — is revealed to man by his sensible experiences
(feelings), and corresponding faint feelings (pliautasmata)
are, in this life, the conditions of it-i reproduction or presence
in thought. But because we cannot think without phantas-
mata it dues not follow that those phantasmata THEMSELVES
are all our thoughts in each case. Consider the idea ex
pressed by the term " any man !" How can the phantasm
be all the meaning of the term in such a case ?

Mr. Spencer always treats the mere means and occasions of
intellectual action as intellectual action itself, owing Mr. spencer's

" " confusion of

to his fundamental confusion of thought with feel- the intellect

with the sen-
ing, which leads him to such nonsense as speculating s^0^;

as to an oyster's conception of time and space ! He activity.
indeed approaches the truth, but then stops short of it. It
is certainly most true that it requires but a little change to
transform his system (in spite of its generally very different
spirit) into scholasticism. His fundamental error is not
seeing that imagination and sensible phantasmata suggest to
our intellect truths beyond images, not therefore adequately
expressible by words though conveyed by words with prac
tical efficacy to other minds. Meanings beyond the words
themselves, and still more beyond their more ancient mean
ings, are continually suggested by language. Who, when he
hears of the " spirit of Shakespeare," thinks of the pulmonary
exhalation from his lungs ? So such words as " substance,"
"cause," are symbols, and suggest images through which the
intellect understands what is hyper-sensible, and by such
language conveys it to other minds. Men who do not really
so understand them have either a mind which is imperfectly
developed or are otherwise abnormally constituted.

Mr. Lewes's position is somewhat singular. He altogether
dissents from and protests against Mr. Spencer's Mr.Lewes's
Transfigured Kealism, and maintains that "feel- p
ings " are the very " things in themselves," as also that we
have not, and cannot have, knowledge of anything but feel
ings. Thus he seems a pure idealist, while yet, at the same
time, he protests against idealism. In part, however, his

78 LESSONS FROM NATUEE. [CHAP. III.

expressions harmonise with that realism which is here main
tained, and which places philosophy in harmony with the
healthy common sense of mankind. For all that, he is really
an idealist, like Berkeley, with the important difference that,
instead of a God, he makes the non-ego an inscrutably mys
terious something, of which, as far as he has yet explained
himself, he declines to assert anything whatever. He says,*
" It may sound an extreme paradox to say that things have
not separate existence apart from feelings ; but it is a paradox
which must be accepted, when we consider that things are
what they are in the given relations ; and that in relation to
the sensitive organism the so-called ' thing ' is what is pre
sent in feeling." Yet he goes on : " This is not a denial of
the objective factor — the non-ego. It does not assert that
the stone lying on the ground is not somewhat more than the
feelings of it in you and me ; all that is asserted is, that the
' somewhat ' in this relation is what it is felt to be ; and if I
am asked what the postulated ' somewhat ' is, if not the
metaphysical thing in itself? I answer: The 'somewhat' is
the abstract possibility of one factor of a product entering
into relation with some different factors when it will exist
under another form." But what is a " factor " but that which
" does something ?" and that which " does something " must " l>e
something." There must be, then, a real objective existence
of some kind external to the subjective factor. What Mr.
Lewes must mean is that, apart from the subject, there is an
existence forming one factor in every feeling, however diverse
these feelings may be, and that the factor of all these different
feelings may be one and the same in all cases, or different
in each different case. An examination of the positive decla
rations of our own reason will, however, I venture to think,
make plain that the intellect declares its perception of a
stone which is first hot and then cold to be a perception of a
real external objective existence, which remains one under
these, though successively occasioning these diverse sensa-

' Problems of Life and Mind,' vol. ii. p. 438.

CHAP. TIT.] THE EXTERNAL WOELD. 79

tions. Ac-cording to Mr. Lewes (if I have not misunderstood
his very obscure expressions on the subject), it seems that
there need be no objective, continued connexion between
that non-ego which, joined with the ego, is " a hot stone,"
and that non-ego which, joined with the ego, is " a cold
stone." If there is a persistent bond between these two non-
egos, which is not also a bond between "the stone" and
" grass," or any other parts of non-ego factors, then he must
admit a real objective substance known to the intellect, but
not to sense, in the stone.

He says : * "To say that we do not know the objects, but
only the feelings they excite in us, is simply saying that we
do not know what objects are in other relations than those of
feeling — a truism which is quite irrelevant, but a truism on
which metaphysicians have erected the idle mystery of the
Ding an sich" Now I maintain that our intellect clearly
tells us that we do " know what objects are in other relations
than those of feeling," and that, therefore, instead of a
"truism," it is afalsism.

But after all Mr. Lewes's protests against Mr. Spencer's
system, his own is fundamentally very like it, for he Agrees with
tells ust (speaking of light and the luminiferous todamen!r
undulations) : " We know that the undulations are tf
present beyond the red and violet ends of the spectrum.
.... Our cosmos is indeed the universe of feeling ; but
we postulate an universe of being ; and the warrant for this
postulate is the experience of ever-fresh accessions from the
unknown to the known !" Mr. Lewes indeed can postulate
no more than possibilities of fresh feelings.

But if he knows nothing but feelings, what can he mean
by postulating a universe of being? for by that he must
mean the " unf'elt," which in his system is if not non-existent
quite inexpressible, and practically equivalent to the un
knowable of Mr. Spencer. He refrains indeed from saying
that any changes in this being accompany changes in feeling.

* Op. cit. p. 419. t Op. cit. p. 235.

80 LESSONS FROM NATURE. [CHAP. HI.

He is thus less realist™ than Mr. Spencer in one respect,
while in his assertion that the felt is indeed the real, he
approximates to the philosophy here advocated, i.e., to the
philosophy of Aristotle.

It is impossible, in a single chapter, to do more than
Recapituia- glance at a few points in the great controversy
tion- respecting the validity of our ordinary conceptions

of external nature. Enough, it is trusted, has however
here been said to justify our proceeding henceforth to treat
of the external world as an existence known to us in the
way, and to the extent, ordinarily supposed. Grounding all
our assertions upon the positive dicta of our intellect, we
may affirm that we are conscious that in knowing things we
really know them, and not an amalgam made up of a mix
ture of things with ourselves ; and also that we know other
existences to be both real and certain.

If idealism be true, then to each of us there can be
but one existence the certainty of which can be ever con
fidently asserted, namely, our own ; and yet our reason asserts
unmistakably that there really are many other creatures of
various kinds, rational and irrational, about us. Again, if
the properties of objects, such as their colour, &c., do not
appertain to persisting objects, they must themselves be, as
Mr. Lewes says, the persisting objects — the things in them
selves — the true substances. In that case a change in any
accidental quality is equivalent to a substantial change in
objects themselves, and a substance dyed another colour is
no longer the same substance as before — a conclusion our
reason vehemently rejects.

In conclusion, our reason affirms to us that we not only
conclusion, know our own existence, and that of other beings,
securely rea-y but that the qualities we attribute to them are
declarations really theirs, not ours ; and that if intelligences,

of our senses

as to the ex- equal to or greater than our own, can know such

istence and -1-. c

propertiesof objects without the aid of sensitive organs, such

external ob- J

jects. intelligences would know, apart from sense, that

things are the very things which our senses declare them to

CHAP. JIL] THE EXTEENAL WORLD. 81

be, although it is conceivable that the number of other pro
perties they might also recognise would indefinitely exceed
in number such properties as we are able to know by our
intellect acting through our sensitive organs. Our percep
tions might be added to, but not contradicted.

If what has been here brought forward is correct —if the
criticisms by which it has been sought to overthrow the
cavils of those who would bid us distrust our faculties and
the plain declarations of our intellect be just — it follows that
the third lesson we may draw from nature is that we may
repose securely in our spontaneous trust in the truthfulness
of our natural faculties when matured and simultaneously
employed in the quest of real and objective truth. In other
words, that we may be certain that an external world really
exists, and that its various parts really possess those very
powers and properties which our senses and our reason com
bine to declare to us such objects do in fact possess.

CHAPTER IV.

LANGUAGE.

" Kational language is a bond of connexion between the mental and
material world which is absolutely peculiar to man."

IN the last chapter, an endeavour was made to justify our
Lan uage spontaneous belief in a real external world, pos-
tteeennmind sessing the properties we attribute to it in addition
and matter. ^Q our 8p0ntaneous belief in our own continued
mental existence — in other words, a belief in the reality of
the material world as well as the reality of the world of
mind. We shall be following a natural order, therefore, if
we now consider that which is the special bond and connexion
between these two worlds, material and mental — that by
which our feelings, memories, thoughts, and volitions are
made manifest to the senses of other men, and that by which
we ourselves come to learn other men's feelings, memories,
thoughts, and volitions. I mean language.

But the word " language" denotes two very different things.
Language It denotes the expression of the mere feelings or
and rational, emotions — emotional language, and it also denotes
the expression of thoughts— rational language. It is the
latter only which especially merits our attention here, as the
language of mere feeling cannot by itself be said to be a bond
of union between external nature and mind as revealed in the
self-consciousness we are interrogating.

Rational speech is evidently made up of the union of
two distinct factors — the one mental, the other corporeal —
the one the idea conceived by the mind, the other the bodily

CHAP. IV.J LANGUAGE. 83

action which gives expression to that idea. As in the over
whelming majority of instances that bodily action Kational
is vocal, these two component parts of speech have meftS^nd
been distinguished respectively as the verbum men- b
tale and the verbum oris ; but as such bodily expression is
not exclusively vocal, they might, perhaps, be better distin
guished as the verbum mentale and the verbum eorporis. The
essence of rational language is mental — a primary intellec
tual power and activity ; while the secondary part, the ex
ternal expression (the verbum eorporis), follows the intel
lectual activity, as is made evident by our constant process
of inventing fresh terms in each science to denote new or
better-defined expressions.

Great ambiguity and confusion, however, exists as to the
different senses in which the term language may be Different
used, and as to the different kinds of activity language.
evoked by it. As has been just said, Kational expression is
not exclusively oral, nor is all articulate speech rational.
We may altogether distinguish six different kinds of lan
guage :—

1. Sounds which are neither articulate nor rational, such

as cries of pain, or the murmur of a mother to her
infant.

2. Sounds which are articulate but not rational, such as

the talk of parrots, or of certain idiots, who will re
peat, without comprehending, every phrase they hear.

3. Sounds which are rational but not articulate, such as

the inarticulate ejaculations by which we sometimes
express assent to or dissent from given propositions.

4. Sounds which are both rational and articulate consti

tuting true " speech."

5. Gestures which do not' answer to rational conceptions,

but are merely the manifestations of emotions and
feelings.

6. Gestures which do answer to rational conceptions, and

are therefore " external " but not "oral" manifesta
tions of the verbum mentale. Such are many of the

G 2

84 LESSONS FKOM NATUKE. [CHAP. IV.

gestures of deaf mutes, who, being incapable of articu
lating words, have invented or acquired a true gesture-
language.

The clear understanding of these distinctions is an indis
pensable preliminary to the study of language, in the widest
sense of that term ; it may be well, therefore, to recapitulate
the characters of the actions which respectively belong to
the above six categories, that they may be as clearly
distinguished as possible.

The sounds emitted by brutes, however complicated or pro
longed, which denote merely emotions and bodily sensations,
belong to the first category. Mere articulate sounds, without
concomitant intellectual activity, such as those emitted by
trained parrots or jackdaws (and which, of course, are not
" speech "), belong to the second category. The third category
comprises inarticulate ejaculations and sounds which we
sometimes make use of to express our approval or disap
proval, our agreement or our disagreement with anything
said to us. Articulate expressions of mental conceptions, or
true speech, belong only to the fourth category. Gestures
which are merely the manifestations of emotions and feelings
are not the equivalents of speech, and belong to the fifth
category. But gestures without sound may be rational ex
ternal manifestations of internal thoughts, and, therefore, the
real equivalents of words. Such may serve to call attention
to objects, their agreements or their differences, and may
express approval and assent, or the reverse, to observations
made to us by others. All such belong to the sixth category.
Thus it is plainly conceivable that a brute might manifest
its feelings and emotions not only by gestures, but also by
articulate sounds, without for all that possessing even the
germ of real language. Similarly it is evident that a para-
Extemaiex- lysed man might have essentially the power of
necessary* speech (verbum mentale), though accidentally hin-
meTofra- dered from externally manifesting that inner power
maifty. by means of the verbum oris. Normally, the ex
ternal and internal powers exist inseparably. Once that the

CHAP. IV.] LANGUAGE. 85

intellectual activity exists, it seeks external expression by
symbols — verbal, manual, or what not — the voice or gesture-
language. Some form of symbolic expression is therefore
the necessary consequence of the possession of reason by an
animal frame ; while it is impossible that true speech can for
a moment exist without the co-existence with it of that in
tellectual activity of which it is the outward expression — as
well might the concavities of a sigmoid line be supposed to
exist without its convexities.

We have said that a rational animal, if it exists at all,
must acquire some form of expressing by external bodily
symbols its internal expressions ; and Mr. Tylor has made some
remarks* respecting deaf-mutes which help to justify this
assertion. He says, that though the existence of deaf-mutes
proves that men may have thought without speech, yet not
without "any physical expression," rather "the reverse."
That men, not altogether paralysed, might have reason and
yet no mode of externally manifesting it, is, however, a
proposition which no sound philosopher ever dreamed of
maintaining.

However, as has been said, the confusion generally existing
on the subject of language is surprising ; and it Prevalent
must be admitted that few recent intellectual phe- the subject."
nomena are more astounding than the ignorance of these
elementary yet fundamental distinctions and principles, ex
hibited even by conspicuous and widely-esteemed writers.
Mr. Darwin, for example, does not exhibit the faintest indi
cation of having grasped them ; yet a clear perception of
them, and a direct and detailed examination of his facts with
regard to them, was a sine qua non for attempting, with a
chance of success, the solution of the mystery as to the
descent of man. I actually heard Professor Vogt at Norwich
(at the British Association Meeting of 1868), in discussing
certain cases of aphasia, declare before the whole physiolo
gical section, " Je ne comprends pas la parole dans un homme

into the Early History of Mankind,' p. 68.

86 LESSONS FROM NATURE. [CHAP. IV.

qui ne parle pas ;" a declaration which manifestly showed that
he was not qualified to form, still less so to express, any opinion
whatever on the subject. Again, Professor Oscar Schmidt,
in trying to account for the natural origin of man, quotes,
with approbation, Geiger's words: "Die Sprache hat die
Vernunft geschaffen : vor ihr war der Mensch vernunftlos ;"
not seeing that he might as well attempt to account for the
" convexities " of a sigrnoid line by its " concavities." As
before said, the " concavities " could as easily exist before the
" convexities " as the existence of the verbum oris could ante
date that of the verbum mentale. It is almost enough to
make one despair of progress when one finds such real " non
sense " solemnly propounded to a learned audience, and when
such amazing ignorance shows itself in men who are looke 1
up to as teachers ! As Wilhelm von Humboldt has declared :
" Man is man only through speech, but in order to invent he
must be already man."

Eespecting Mr. Darwin, that section of the second chapter
„,„., of his work, the < Descent of Man,' which discusses

ivir. L/arwiuo

language, exhibits such a combination of confused
thought, with a habit of assuming as true the very point to be
proved, that adequately to do it justice would require minute
criticism. He makes use,* by implication, of the curious
argument, that because two things have certain points of re
semblance they cannot be fundamentally different. Thus, as
if to diminish the force of the distinction between rational and
emotional language, he tells us (what no one would think of
disputing) that there are phenomena which are not distinctive.
He says : " Articulate language is, however, peculiar to man ;
but he uses, in common with the lower animals, inarticulate
cries to express his meaning, aided by gestures and the move
ments of the muscles of the face. This especially holds good
with the more simple and vivid feelings, which are but little
connected with our higher intelligence. Our cries of pain,
fear, surprise, anger, together with their appropriate actions,

* 'Descent of Man,' vol. i. p. 54.

CHAP. IV.] LANGUAGE. 87

and the murmur of a mother to her beloved child are more ex
pressive than any words." To this we may reply : As stimu
lating to the emotions — yes ! But what has that to do with
the question of definite signs intelligently given and under
stood ? It does not in the least diminish the force of the dis
tinction that man makes use of these common instinctive signs
as they are the natural consequences of his being an animal,
which fact would naturally lead us to anticipate that he would
manifest phenomena of the kind common to him and to brutes,
as he, as all admit, shares the instincts and emotions of the
latter. That he has a nature in many respects like theirs is
perfectly compatible with his having a superior nature, of
which latter brutes have no germ, rudiment or vestige what
soever. Indeed, all the arguments and objections in Mr.
Darwin's second chapter may be met by the simple assertion,
that man being an animal has all the faculties of an animal
which are subserved by his rational nature ; and thus, very
naturally, there results an external conformity of appearance
though a modified one. Here, then, we have two quantities,
a and a -\- x ; and Mr. Darwin, seeing the two a's, but neglect
ing the x, represents the two quantities as equal. Even Mr.
Darwin himself directly adds : " It is not the mere power of
articulation that distinguishes man from other animals ; for, as
every one knows, parrots can talk ; but it is his large power of
connecting definite sounds with definite ideas ; and this obvi
ously depends on the development of the mental faculties."
This is most true in one sense ; and yet, with the notable ex
ception that the distinctive character of man does not consist
in his having this power " largely," but in his having it at all !
He draws (vol. i. p. 59) a parallel between the vocal
organs of apes which are not used for speech, and the vocal
organs of certain birds which do not sing, but use such
organs "merely for croaking." But "croaking" is essen
tially a sort of song, and means neither more nor less. But
no ape's cries are essentially rational speech.

Mr. Darwin also misplaces the real point of distinction,
between emotional and rational language. He remarks,

88 LESSONS FROM NATURE. [CHAP. IV.

with respect to the faculty of articulate language, that of
the distinctively human characteristics, this has "justly been
considered as one of the chief" (vol. i. p. 53). I cannot
agree in this. Some brutes can articulate, and it is quite
conceivable that brutes might (though as a fact they do not)
so associate certain sensations and gratifications with certain
articulate sounds as, in a certain sense, to speak. That is
to say, it is conceivable that a parrot might learn to speak
certain words, which he has come to associate with some
gratification, just as a dog who " begs " has associated that
gesture with " sugar to follow," or other agreeable associa
tion. This, however, would in no way even tend to bridge
over the chasm which exists between the representative reflec
tive faculties and the merely presentative ones. Articulate
signs associated only with sensible impressions would be
fundamentally as distinct as mere gestures are from truly
rational speech.

Mr. Darwin evades the. question about language by in one
place (vol. i. p. 54) attributing that faculty in man to his
having acquired a higher intellectual nature ; and in another,
(vol. ii. p. 391), by ascribing his higher intellectual nature
to his having acquired that faculty.

Our author's attempts to bridge over the chasm which, as
before said, separates instinctive cries from rational speech
are remarkable examples of groundless speculation. Thus
he ventures to say —

" That primeval man, or rather some early progenitor of man, pro-
lably (the italics are mine) used his voice largely, as does one of the
gibbon-apes at the present day, in producing true musical cadences,
that is in singing; we may conclude from a widely-spread analogy
that this power would have been especially exerted during the court
ship of the sexes, serving to express various emotions, as love, jealousy,
triumph, and serving as a challenge to their rivals. The imitation by
articulate sounds of musical cries might have given rise to words ex
pressive of various complex emotions."

And again :—

" It does not appear altogether incredible, that some unusually wise
ape-like animal should have thought of imitating the growl of a beas-

CHAP. IV.] LANGUAGE. 89

of prey, so as to indicate to his fellow monkeys the nature of the
expected danger. And this would have been a first step in the forma
tion of a language." — Vol. i. p. 56.

But the question, not whether it is incredible, but whether
there are any data whatever to warrant such a suppo
sition. Mr. Darwin brings forward none : we suspect none
could be brought forward.

It is then rational language — the external manifestation,
whether by sound or gesture, of general conceptions — which
has to be considered. We have to ascertain whether or
not its existence is, as far as the evidence goes, universal
amongst mankind; also whether the lowest forms of speech
discoverable are so much below the highest forms as to
appear transitional steps from irrational cries, and, conse
quently, whether there is any positive evidence for the origin
of speech by any process of evolution. It is not emotional
expressions or the manifestations of sensible impressions
which we have to consider, but the enunciations of distinct
judgments as to " the what," " the how," and " the why,"
whether by sound or by gesture.

In the first place, perhaps it may be well to consider those
speechless human beings now existing — the deaf-mutes. As
to these Mr. Tylor tells us : —

" Even in a low state of education, the deaf-mute seems to conceive
general ideas, for when he invents a sign for anything he

T -j. j. n .LI ^1 • f ^1 Deaf-mutes.

applies it to all other things of the same class, and he can
also form abstract ideas in a certain way, or, at least, he knows that
there is a quality in which snow and milk agree, and he can go on
adding other white things, such as the moon and whitewash, to his
list. He can form a proposition, for he can make us understand, and
we can make him understand, that ' this man is old, that man is
young.' Nor does he seem incapable of reasoning in something like a
syllogism, even when he has no means of communicating but the
gesture-language ; and certainly as soon as he has learnt to read that
' all men are mortal, John is a man, therefore John is a mortal,' he will
show by every means of illustration in his power that he fully com
prehends the argument."*

* ' Researches into the Early History of Mankind,' p. 06.

90 LESSONS FKOM NATUEE. [CHAP. IV.

The intellectual activity of their minds is indeed evi
denced by the peculiar construction of their sentences. Mr.
Tylor tells us (p. 25): "Their usual construction is not
' black horse,' but ' horse black ;' not ' bring a black hat/
but ' hat black bring ;' not ' I am hungry, give me bread/
but ' hungry me bread give.' "* Thus we see how thoroughly
mistaken Professor Huxley was when he asserted ('Man's
Place in Nature,' p. 102, note) : " A man born dumb, not
withstanding his great cerebral mass and his inheritance of
strong intellectual instincts, would be capable of few Uglier
intellectual manifestations than an orang or a chimpanzee, if
he were confined to the society of his dumb associates."
Quite contrary to this, there can be no doubt but that a
society of dumb men would soon elaborate a gesture-language
of great complexity.

Passing now to savage men, Mr. Tylor makes some excel-
Mr. Tyior on lent remarks on, and brings forward a good ex-
savages. ample of, that reckless and unjust depreciation of
native tribes of which travellers are so apt to be guilty,
and of which we shall find other examples when we come
to the subject of religion. A Mr. Mercer having said of the
Veddah tribes of Ceylon that their communications have
little resemblance to distinct sounds or systematised lan
guage, Mr. Tylor observes (p. 78) :—

" Mr. Mercer seems to have adopted the common view of foreigners
about the Veddahs, but it has happened here, as in many other
accounts of savage tribes, that closer acquaintance has shown them to
have been wrongly accused. Mr. Bailey who has had good oppor
tunities of studying them, . . . contradicts their supposed deficiency
in language with the remark, ' I never knew one of them at a loss for
words sufficiently intelligible to convey his meaning, not to his fellows
only, but to the Singhalese of the neighbourhood, who are all more or
less acquainted with the Veddah patois.' "

Again, as to another well-known traveller he remarks

(P- 79):-

" It is extremely likely that Madame Pfeiffer's savages suffered the

* This spontaneous tendency may be pleaded in mitigation of De Candolle's
strictures on Latin construction as unnatural.

CHAP. IV.] LANGUAGE. 91

penalty of being set down as wanting in language, for no worse fault
than using a combination of words and signs in order to make what
they meant as clear as possible to her comprehension."

As to the universality of the verbum mentale in man he
observes (p. 80) : —

" As the gesture-language is substantially the same among savage
tribes all over the world, and also among children who cannot speak,
so the picture-writings of savages are not only similar to one another,
but are like what children make untaught even in civilised countries.
Like the universal language of gestures, the art of picture-writing
tends to prove that the mind of the uncultured man works in much
the same way at all times and everywhere. . . . Man is essentially,
what the derivation of his name among our Aryan race imports, not
' the speaker,' but he who thinks, he who means."

In other words, he is a rational animal Mr. Tylor rein
forces these remarks elsewhere * by saying : —

" It always happens, in the study of the lower races, that the more
means we have of understanding their thoughts, the more sense and
reason do we find in them."

A great deal has been sometimes made of the alleged
inability of some savages to count more than five, or even
three, and this fact is occasionally advanced as pointing
to a transition from the psychical powers of brutes to the
intelligence of man. We shall return to this hereafter, but
some fitting remarks by Mr. Tylor may be here quoted : —

" Of course, it no more follows among savages than among ourselves,
that because a man counts on his fingers his language must be wanting
in words to express the number he wishes to reckon. For example, it
was noticed that when natives of Kamskatka were set to count, they
would reckon all their fingers, and then all their toes, getting up to
20, and then would ask, ' What are we to do next ?' Yet it was found
on' examination that numbers up to 100 existed in their language."

Concerning the origin of existing articulate words, Mr.
Tylor distinctly repudiates the "bow-wow hypothesis" as
insufficient. For instance, with respect to the family of

* ' Primitive Culture,' vol. i. p. 322.

92 LESSONS FEOM NATUEE. [CHAP. IV.

words represented by the Sanskrit vad, to go, the Latin
vado, he says (Ibid. p. 195) : " To this root there seems no
sufficient ground for assigning an imitative origin, the traces
of which it has at any rate lost if it ever had them." Again,
as to early words he says (Ibid. p. 207) : " It is obvious that
the leading principle of their formation is not to adopt
words distinguished by the expressive character of their
sound, but to choose somehow a fixed word to answer a given
purpose" As to the arbitrary way in which articulate words
are used to express sounds, and the small amount of real
resemblance existing between them, he tells us (Hid. p. 182) :
" The Australian imitation of a spear or bullet striking is
given as toop ; to the Zulu when a calabash is beaten it says
boo" He concludes (Ibid. p. 208) : —

" I do not think that the evidence here adduced justifies the setting
up of what is called the Interjectional and Imitative theory as a
complete solution of the problem of original language. Valid as this
theory proves itself within limits, it would be incautious to accept a
hypothesis which can, perhaps, satisfactorily account for a twentieth of
the crude forms in any language, as a certain and absolute explanation

of the nineteen-twentieths whose origin remains doubtful Too

narrow a theory of the application of sound to sense may fail to include
the varied devices which the languages of different regions turn to
account. It is thus with the distinction in meaning of a word by its
musical accent, and the distinction of distance by graduated vowels.
These are ingenious and intelligible [intellectiial !] contrivances, but
they hardly seem directly emotional or imitative in origin."

Thus it seems that Mr. Tylor is unable to bring forward
any evidence of a speechless condition of man, but that he is
constrained to admit all available evidence points in the
opposite direction, and that it shows speech to be universal
amongst existing races. Even those abnormal and unfor
tunate beings the deaf-mutes are seen to be intellectually
endowed with language, so that they infinitely more resemble
a man that is gagged than they do an irrational animal.
The essential community intellectually existing between
them and us is shown by our occasional use of what Mr.
Tylor calls " picture words," where " a substantive is treated

CHAP, IV.] LANGUAGE. 93

as the root or crude form of a verb," as e.g., " to butter bread,
to cudgel a man, to oil machinery, to pepper a dish."

As to speech, Sir John Lubbock at once admits :* " Al
though it has been at various times stated that sir John
certain savages are entirely without language, none Lubl
of these accounts appeared to be well authenticated."
The recklessness with which assertions are made about
savage tribes is, as we shall shortly see, so great, that no
account ought to be fully received without a knowledge
of the bias of the relater and a careful criticism of his
statements.

The assertions and admissions of Mr. Tylor and Sir John
Lubbock are most valuable testimonies. They are most
valuable, in the first place, on account of the industry,
patience, ability, and candour with which these writers have
amassed, digested, and laid before their readers all the most
important facts which either archaeology or ethnology has
afforded, tending to throw light upon the lower stages of
human existence. Secondly, however, they are of especial
value because their authors belong to that school which
adopts the monistic view as to man's origin — that is to say,
the school of Lamarck, Darwin, Huxley, and Spencer. We
may, therefore, confidently rely upon any statements or ad
missions made by Mr. Tylor and Sir John Lubbock which
tell against that view which would confound intellect with
emotion ; while we may fairly assume, from the eminent
qualities these authors possess, that when they fail to bring
forward data favourable to that view it is because no such
data in reality exist.

It seems then unquestionable that an absolute difference
exists in the matter of language between man and Conclusion.
all other animals. While no brute gives any evidence of
having any such faculty, it seems undeniable that all men
possess that special bond and connexion between the world
of mind and the world of matter — rational language. On

* • Origin of Civilisation,' p. 275.

94 LESSONS FROM NATURE. [CHAP. IV.

the other hand, the signs of feelings and emotions, merely
emotional language, are the common property of men and
animals. Such appears to be the lesson we may gather from
nature respecting those various signs, vocal, manual, or of
whatever kind, which together constitute that which goes by
the general term " language."

CHAPTER V.

DUTY AND PLEASUKE.

" Perceptions of right and wrong, and of our power of choice, and
consequent responsibility, are universally diffused amongst mankind,
and constitute an absolute character separating man from all other
animals."

THOSE investigators take a sadly incomplete view of nature
who confine themselves to such sciences as zoology, The exi8t.
botany, and physiology, even though, under the ^orai con-
latter, the mere physical facts of language be in- fact'S-
cluded. The fundamentally distinct primary con
ceptions of the human mind form, no less than do physical
facts, a part of nature, and one from which the most important
lessons may be derived. Having, in the last chapter, noted
the teaching of nature as respects the difference between
emotional and rational language, we may now proceed to
advert to a distinction which seems naturally to have arisen
in the minds of all races of men, and to have expressed itself
unmistakably in their speech. The distinction referred to is
that between duty and pleasure, as implied in expressions of
moral reprobation, indicating a conviction of the existence of
moral responsibility and therefore of a power of choice
exercised by men in their actions.

We may begin by inquiring whether it is indeed the case
that this conception of moral worth is as wide- £^on8
spread as alleged— an inquiry, that is, concerning universal
the universality or non-universality amongst man- mankind?
kind of a power of apprehending " right " or " wrong."

And here, again, it is necessary to distinguish and define

96 LESSONS FROM NATURE. [CHAP. V.

what is meant by this human mental power, because ambiguity
A definition and misunderstanding respecting this matter are
of morality. ^ jeag^. ag common as in the matter of language.
13y this power is not meant merely a feeling of sympathy, a
deference to the desires of others, or some emotional excite
ment tending to produce materially kind and benevolent
actions. Still less is meant the volitional impulse which in
all cases directly produces such action itself, since this may or
may not be "moral," according to the circumstances of each
case. What is meant is an intellectual activity evinced
by the expression of definite judgments passed upon certain
modes of action abstractedly considered. The existence of
kindly social customs cannot be taken as necessarily proving
the existence of such intellectual activity in the absence of
some intimation by word or gesture of a moral apprehension.
No preference for the interests of the tribe over self, or
anger at the absence of such preference, is moral unless there
is a judgment that such preference is "right." Similarly, no
amount of gross or atrocious habits in any given tribe can
be taken to prove the entire absence of morality. The liking
or disliking (and therefore the frequent practice or neglect)
of certain actions is one thing; the act of judging that such
actions, whether pleasant or unpleasant, are " right " or
" wrong " is an altogether different thing.

A man may, for instance, judge that he ought to renounce
a tender friendship without its becoming less delightful to
him to continue it. Another may perceive that he has acted
rightly in foregoing a pecuniary advantage, though mentally
suffering acute distress from the consequences of his just act.
Again, differences of judgment as to the goodness or badness
of particular concrete actions have nothing to do with the
point we have to consider. Thus the most revolting act that
can well be cited, that of the deliberate murder of aged
parents, monstrous as the act in itself is, may really be one
of filial piety if, as is asserted, the savage perpetrators do it
at the wish of such parents themselves and from a con
viction that thereby they not only save them from suffering

CHAP. V.] DUTY AND PLEASUEE. 97

in this world but also confer upon them prolonged happiness
in the next. Hence we must judge of the moral or non-
moral condition of savage tribes by their own declarations
when these can be obtained or by expressive actions as far
as possible the equivalent of such declarations. We have
already seen the essential community of intellectual nature
existing amongst all living races of men as regards the
faculty of speech. From the existence of this community
of nature, \ve may fairly conclude that deliberate articulate
judgments of lower races have substantially the same mean
ing as those of our own race, whatever may be the con
crete actions which occasion the expression of such abstract
judgments.

We are all familiar with the constantly employed expres
sions denoting moral judgments amongst ourselves, The distinct-
and those amongst us who reflect upon the subject conception

n ,t , • generally ad-

are generally aware that in asserting that anything muted.

is "right" they mean to make a judgment altogether dis
tinct from one asserting the same thing to be pleasurable
or advantageous. Even men who, like the late John
Stuart Mill, assert that the principle regulating our actions
should be the production of the greatest amount of pleasure
to all sentient beings, must assert that there is either no
obligation at all to accept this principle itself, or that such
obligation is a "moral" one. The distinction being then
generally and practically recognised as existing amongst our
selves, we have to examine the following points. Whether
there is any evidence that moral perceptions are wanting in
any savage tribes ? Whether any races exist in a condition
which may be considered as a transitional state between our
own and the non-moral condition of beasts ? Whether any
peoples have their moral perceptions so perverted — so remote
from those of the highest races — as to result in the forma
tion of abstract judgments directly contradicting the abstract
moral judgments of such highest races ?

In this matter it is very necessary to be greatly on our
guard against the involuntary misrepresentations and the

H

98 LESSONS FKOM NATUKE. [CHAP. V.

hasty and careless misinterpretations of unsk ille d observers
and inaccurate narrators. Sir John Luobock him-
2ST ° ' self observes :* « We all know how difficult it is to
judge an individual, and it must be much more so to j*
1 nation. In fact, whether any given wnter prases or blames
I particular race, depends at least as much on the character
0/the writer as on that of the people." Again, we mus t be
careful not to apply to savage tribes standards applicable only
to higher races. The essence of morality being the con
formity of acts to an ethical ideal, neither the worst any
more than the best moral development, whatever be the
concrete acts, can co-exist with an undeveloped intellectual
condition If any tribes are intellectually in a puerile con
dition, puerile also must be their moral state. Here we may
again quote Sir John Lubbock with approval,
(p. 340) :-

"The lowest moral and the lowest intellectual condition are not
only in my opinion, not inseparable, they are not even compatible.
The lower races of men may be, and are, vicious; but allowances
must be made for them. On the contrary (corrupt* optimi pessimaest),
Z highe™ the mental power, the more splendid the intellectual endow
ment, the deeper is the moral degradation of him who wastes the one
and abuses the other."

Now one of the clearest ethical judgments is that as to
Examples of « justice " and "injustice;" and by common con-
' £vagesym sent the native Australians are admitted to be at
about the lowest level of existing social development, while
as we have seen, the Esquimaux are deemed by some to be
surviving specimens of the (up to the present time hypo
thetical) " miocene men."

Concerning the first of these races, the Australians, ,
John Lubbock tells us :—

« The amount of legal revenge, if I may so call it, is often strictly
regulated, even where we should least expect to find such limitations
Thus in Australia, crimes may be compounded for by the criminal
appearing and submitting himself to the ordeal of having spears

1 Origin of Civilisation,' p. 259.

CHAP. V.] DUTY AND PLEASUKE. 99

thrown at him by all such persons as conceive themselves to have
been aggrieved, or by permitting spears to be thrust through certain
parts of his body; such as through the thigh, or the calf of the leg, or
under the arm. The part which is to be pierced by a spear is fixed
for all common crimes, and a native who has incurred this penalty
sometimes quietly holds out his leg for the injured party to thrust his
spear through ! So strictly is the amount of punishment limited, that
if, in inflicting such spear wounds, a man, either through carelessness
or from any other cause, exceeded the recognised limits— if, for instance,
he wounded the femoral artery — he would in his turn become liable to
punishment." — Origin of Civilisation, p. 318,

The next is a yet stronger example of savage refinement,
furnished us by Sir John Lubbock : —

"Among the Greenlanders, should a seal escape with a hunter's
javelin in it, and be killed by another man afterwards, it belongs to
the former. But if the seal is struck with the harpoon and bladder,
and the string breaks, the hunter loses his right. If a man finds a
seal dead, with a harpoon in it, he keeps the seal but returns the
harpoon Any man who finds a piece of drift-wood can appro
priate it by placing a stone on it, as a sign that some one has taken
possession of it. No other Greenlander will then touch it." — Ibid.
p. 305.

But perhaps the recently extinct Tasmanians were at a
lower level than the Australians. If so, Mr. Tylor shows us by
a legend which he relates, that they had a strong apprecia
tion of even male conjugal fidelity. The inhabitants of
Tierra del Fuego are, if possible, more wretched savages
than the Australians, yet it is very interesting to note that
even with respect to these no less hostile a witness than
Mr. Darwin himself informs us that when a certain Mr.
Bynoe shot some very young ducklings as specimens, a
Fuegian declared, in the most solemn manner, " Oh, Mr.
Bynoe ! much rain, snow, blow much ! " And as to this
declaration, Mr. Darwin tells us that the anticipated bad
weather " was evidently a retributive punishment for wasting
human food," i.e., for a transgression of the aborted moral
code recognised by the Fuegian in question.

That the language of savage tribes is capable of ex
pressing moral conceptions will probably be contested by no

H 2

100 LESSONS FKOM NATUKE. [CHAP. V.

one. Similarly, no one will probably deny that when a
savage emphatically calls "bad" an act of treachery done
to himself by one to whom he has been kind, his mind
recognises, at least in a rudimentary way, an element of
ingratitude in such an action. But, in fact, that identity
of intellectual nature, fundamentally considered, which we
have found to exist in all men as the necessary accompani
ment of language, at once establishes a very strong a priori
probability in favour of a similar universality as to the
power of apprehending good and evil. The onus probandi
lies clearly with those who deny it, and yet not only are
even Mr. Tylor and Sir John Lubbuck unable to bring for
ward facts capable of establishing the existence of a non-
moral race of men, but they bring forward instances and
announce conclusions of an opposite character. Mr. Tylor
observes : —

" Glancing down the moral scale amongst mankind at large, we find
no tribe standing at or near zero. The asserted existence of savages
so low as to have no moral standard is too groundless to be discussed.
Every human tribe has its general views as to what conduct is right
and what wrong, and each generation hands the standard on to the next.
Even in the details of those moral standards, wide as their differences

are, there is a yet wider agreement throughout the human race

No' known tribe, however low and ferocious, has ever admitted that

men may kill one another indiscriminately The Sioux Indians,

among themselves, hold manslaughter, unless by way of blood revenge,
to be a crime, and the Dayaks also punish murder." — Contemporary
Review, April 1873, pp. 702, 714.

In another place,* Mr. Tylor, after showing different early
conditions of the tenure of property and the occasional
estimation of the tribe as the social unit, &c., adds : — " Their
various grades of culture had each according to its lights its
standard of right and wrong, and they are to be judged on
the criterion whether they did well or ill according to this
standard." There being thus no question as to the non-
existence of any non-moral race of men, can we find evidence

* ' Contemporary Review,' June 1873, p. 72.

CHAP. V.] DUTY AND PLEASURE. 101

of nny transitional stage ? But the difference between moral
and non-moral existence is a difference of kind, and there
fore " transitions " are here no more possible than between
articulate sound-giving animals which have not reason and
articulate sound-giving animals who have it.

It may be replied, however, that Sir John Lubbock and
Mr. Tylor at least believe in the natural and gra- Mr. Tyior
dual development of man from the non-moral to LubbSockJ°hn
the moral mode of existence, and that therefore the facts
cited cannot have the force here attributed to them. To
this it must be answered that the faculty of accumulating
many facts, or that of arranging and presenting them in a
perspicuous and persuasive manner, by no means necessarily
carries with it a faculty of understanding what those facts
really teach. That such an assertion of intellectual defici
ency may not repose upon the mere ipse dixit of the present
writer, it may be well to quote the judgment of one who is
himself a master in those archaaological subjects in which
Sir John Lubbock is such a proficient, while he is also a
most distinguished biologist and a man of universal culture.
Professor Rolleston upon this subject remarks* as follows :

" It is strange, indeed, that Sir John Lubbock does not see how his
method of accounting for the genesis of the notions of right and wrong
like that of all other utilitarians, actually presupposes their existence '
How could the old men ' praise ' or ' condemn ' except by reference
to some pre-existing standard of right and wrong ? How could the
parties injured by the violation of a compact ' naturally condemn ' it
except by a tacit or articulate reference to some ' naturally implanted '
or, at all events, to some already existing, standard of virtue and vice?
Language, which in matters of this kind faithfully reproduces the
existence of feelings, and even to some extent the history of our race
will not lend itself to the support of their theories, and gives the
Dialectician for once a real victory over the Natural Historian
We must also express our surprise that Sir John Lubbock should'not
have drawn attention to the difficulty which in early stages of our
history must have beset the collection of those 'experiences of
utility/ of which Mr. Herbert Spencer speaks as the foundation
of our so-called moral intuitions; and, secondly, to the exceeding

* The italics are not Professor Kollestou's.

102 LESSONS FROM NATURE. [CHAP. V.

unfitness of the 'nervous organisation,' which Mr. Huxley calls
' the thoughtless brains,' of a savage, to act as a storehouse for such
experiences when obtained. For, firstly, the wicked often remain in
u state of great prosperity for periods commensurate with the lifetime
of an entire population of civilised, not to speak of the notoriously
shorter-lived savage, men; and a life-long experience would neutralise
the results, not merely of tradition, but of hereditary transmission.
And secondly, as Sir John Lubbock himself tells us (p. 70), with
reference to the practice of infanticide, the ' distinction between the
sexes implies an amount of forethought and prudence which the lower
races of men do not possess.' We commend this estimate of the
faculties and capacities of our ancestors to the careful consideration
of those philosophers who suppose them to have been capable of pro
cesses of stock-taking, which must, ex hypothesi, have enabled them to
anticipate the epigram, 'Honesty is the best policy.'"— The Academy,
Nov. 15, 1870.

I have thus Professor Eolleston on my side when I assert
that it is impossible to account for the natural development
of a moral power of judgment, without, in fact, presupposing
its actual existence— since such judgment cannot exist with
out an ethical standard, and such standard cannot exist
without an ethical judgment.

The third question, then, now alone remains: namely,
DO moral whether the moral perceptions of any people are
rontrodtet so perverted as to directly contradict our own
one another? a^stract moral judgments. In the words of Mr.
Lecky :* — " It is not to be expected, it is not to. be main
tained, that men in all ages should have agreed about the
application of their moral principles. All that is contended
for is that these principles are themselves the same ....
in fact, that, however these principles might be applied,
" still humanity was recognised as a virtue, and cruelty as
a vice."! But if opponents have been unable to bring
instances to show the existence of a non-moral race, still less
can they prove that of one the moral principles of which are

* ' Morals,' vol. i. p. 104.

t Mr. Lecky (op. cit. p. 105) gives some interesting quotations from Hel-
vetius, ' -De 1'Esprit,' vol. ii. p. 13, to show how practices which are at first
glaringly immoral come, when fully understood, to appear relatively moral,
and a positive improvement upon other customs they have displaced.

CHAP. V.] DUTY AND PLEASUEE. 103

inverted. Let thieving be here and there encouraged and
taught, yet dishonesty is nowhere erected into a principle,
but is reprobated in the very maxim "honour amongst
thieves." Frightful cruelty towards prisoners was practised
by the North American Indians, but it was towards prisoners,
and cruelty was never inculcated as an ideal to be always
aimed at so that remorse of conscience should be felt by any
man who happened to have let slip a possible opportunity
of cruelty towards any one. As another writer has well
expressed it : * — " Many men doubtless in various times and
places have thought it right to do many an act which we
know to be unjust ; still they have never thought it right
because unjust; they have never thought it right for the
sake of any virtuousness which they have supposed to reside
in injustice ; but because of the virtuousness of beneficence, or
gratitude, or the like. Similarly, many men think an act
wrong, because they think it unjust; but they never think
it wrong because they think it just"

We may then safely conclude that there exists no evidence
whatever yet discovered for the existence of races either
non-moral or with a really inverted morality, or for the
evolution of a " moral state " from a brutal, non-moral con
dition of mankind.

All men who follow the school of thought advocated by
John Stuart Mill, Herbert Spencer, Win wood Reade, The popular
Huxley, Vogt, Tyndall, and Lewes, assert, and goonmpu-
must assert, that in spite of the present difference morality.
between the ideas of "pleasure" and "duty" they are,
nevertheless, one as to their origin — an origin consisting
ultimately of pleasurable and painful sensations. Moral
conceptions, they say, have been evolved from pleasurable
sensations by the preservation, through long ages (in the
struggle for life), of a predominating number of such in
dividuals as happened to have a natural and spontaneous
liking for practices and habits of mind useful to their tribe

* 'Dublin Review,' January 1872, p. 65.

104 LESSONS FEOM NATUKE. [CHAP. V.

or race, and that the same action has destroyed a pre
dominating number of those individuals who possessed a
marked tendency to contrary practices. The descendants of
individuals so preserved have, they say, come to inherit such
a liking and such useful habits of mind, and at last (finding
this inherited tendency thus existing in themselves, distinct
from their tendency to conscious self-gratification) have
become apt to regard it as fundamentally distinct, innate,
and independent of all experience. In fact, according to
this school, the idea of "right" is only the result of the
gradual accretion of useful predilections which, from time to
time, arose in a series of ancestors naturally selected. In
this way " morality " is, as it were, the congealed past
experience of the race, and " virtue " becomes,* as it were, a
sort of " retrieving" which the thus improved human animal
practises by a perfected and inherited habit, regardless of
self-gratification, just as the brute animal has acquired the
habit of seeking prey and bringing it to his master, instead
of devouring it himself.

Mr. John Stuart Mill has very amusingly and instructively
Mr. John (though, of course, quite unintentionally) shown us

Stuart Mills N TUT

seif-contra- how radically distinct even in his own mind are

diction in J

this matter, the two ideas, which he nevertheless endeavours to
identify. In his examination of ' Sir William Hamilton's
Philosophy,' he says : " If I am informed that the world is
ruled by a being whose attributes are infinite, but what they
are we cannot learn, nor what the principles of his govern
ment, except that 'the highest human morality which we
are capable of conceiving ' does not sanction them ; convince
me of it, and I will bear my fate as I may. But when I am
told that I must believe this, and at the same time call this
being by the names which express and affirm the highest
human morality, I say in plain terms that I will not. What
ever power such a being may have over me, there is one

* This was pointed out in the 'Genesis of Species' (Macmillan), 2nd
edition, p. 213.

CHAP. V] DUTY AND PLEASURE. 105

thing which he shall not do ; he shall not compel me to
worship him. I will call no being good who is not what I
mean when I apply that epithet to my fellow-creatures ; and
if such a being can sentence me to hell, to hell I will go."

This is unquestionably an admirable sentiment on the
part of Mr. Mill (with which every absolute moralist will
agree), but it contains a complete refutation of his own
position, and is a capital instance of the vigorous life of
moral intuition in one who professes to have eliminated any
fundamental distinction between the "right" and the "ex
pedient." For if an action is morally good, and to be done
merely in proportion to the amount of pleasure it secures,
and morally bad, and to be avoided as tending to misery, and
if it could be proved that by calling God good — whether He
is so or not in our sense of the term — we could secure a
maximum of pleasure, and by refusing to do so we should
incur endless torment, clearly, on utilitarian principles, the
flattery would be good. Mr. Mill, of course, must also mean
that in the matter in question all men would do well to act
with him. Therefore he must mean that it would be well
for all to accept (on the hypothesis above given) infinite and
final misery for all as the result of the pursuit of happiness
as the only end.

It must be recollected that in consenting to worship this
unholy God, Mr. Mill is not asked to do harm to his neigh
bour, so that his refusal reposes simply on his perception of
the immorality of the requisition.

It is also noteworthy that an omnipotent Deity is supposed
incapable of altering Mr. Mill's mind and moral perceptions !

Mr. Mill's decision is right, but it is difficult indeed to see
how, without the recognition of an " absolute morality," he
can justify so utter and final an abandonment of all utility in
favour of a clear moral perception.

These two ideas, the "right" and the "useful," being
so distinct, a greater difficulty meets us with The origin of

* the concep-

regard to their origin from some common source tion" «sht-"
than could arise from merely considering difficulties as

106 LESSONS FKOM NATUEE. [CHAP. V.

to the incipient stages of our bodily structures. For the
distinction between the "right" and the "useful" is so
fundamental and essential that not only does the idea of
benefit not enter into the idea of duty, but we see that the
very fact of an act not being beneficial to us makes it the
more praiseworthy, while gain tends to diminish the merit
of an action. Yet this idea, " right," thus excluding, as it
does, all reference to utility or pleasure, has nevertheless to
be constructed and evolved from utility and pleasure, and
ultimately from pleasurable sensations, if we are to accept
pure Darwinianism : if we are to accept, that is, the evolution
of man's psychical nature and highest powers by the ex
clusive action of " Natural Selection " from such faculties as
are possessed by brutes ; in other words, if we are to believe
that the conceptions of the highest human morality arose
through minute and fortuitous variations of brutal desires
and appetites, in all conceivable directions.

It is here contended, on the other hand, that no con
servation of any such variations could ever have given rise
to the faintest beginning of any such moral perceptions;
that by " Natural Selection " alone the maxim fiat justitia,
mat coelum could not have been excogitated, still less have
found a widespread acceptance ; that it is impotent to sug
gest even an approach towards an explanation of t\\e first be
ginning of the idea of " right." It need hardly be remarked
that acts may be distinguished not only as pleasurable, useful,
or beautiful, but also as good, in two different senses ; (1)
Materially materially moral acts, and (2) acts which are form-
moraiacts. ally moral. The first are acts good in themselves.
as acts, apart from any intention of the agent which may or
may not have been directed towards the right. The second
are acts which are good not only in themselves as acts, but
also in the deliberate intention of the agent who recognises
his actions as being " right." Thus, acts may be materially
moral or immoral in a very high degree, without being in
the least formally so. For example, a person may tend and
minister to a sick man with scrupulous care and exactness,

CHAP. V.] DUTY AND PLEASURE. 107

having in view all the time nothing but the future reception
of a good legacy. Another may, in the dark, shoot his own
father, taking him to be an assassin, and so commit what is
materially an act of parricide, though formally it is only an
act of self-defence of more or less culpable rashness. A
woman may innocently, because ignorantly, marry a married
man, and so commit a material act of adultery. She may
discover the facts, and persist, and so make her act formal
also.

Actions of brutes, such as those of the Lee, the ant, or the
beaver, however materially good as regards their relation to
the community to which such animals belong, are absolutely
destitute of the most incipient degree of real, i.e., formal
"goodness," because unaccompanied by mental acts of
conscious will directed towards the fulfilment of duty.

Mr. Darwin does not hesitate to declare distinctly that the
" moral sense" is but a mere result of the develop- Mr. Darwin's
ment of brutal instincts. He maintains, " the first views'
foundation or origin of the moral sense lies in the social
instincts, including sympathy ; and these instincts no doubt
were primarily gained, as in the case of the lower animals,
through natural selection" ('Descent of Man,' vol. ii.
p. 394).

Everything, however, depends upon what we mean by the
" moral sense." It is a patent fact that there does exist a
perception of the qualities " right " and " wrong " attaching
to certain actions. However arising, men have a conscious
ness of an absolute and immutable rule legitimately claiming
obedience with an authority necessarily supreme and abso
lute — in other words, intellectual judgments are formed
which imply the existence of an ethical idea in the judging
mind.

It is, as has been already said, the existence of this power
which has to be accounted for; neither its application nor
even its validity have to be considered. Yet instances of
difference of opinion respecting the moral value of particular
concrete actions are often brought forward as if they could

108 LESSONS FEOM NATURE. [CHAP. V.

disprove the existence of moral intuition. Such instances are
utterly beside the question. It is amply sufficient for our
purpose if it be conceded that developed reason dictates to
us that certain modes of action, abstractedly considered, are
intrinsically wrong ; and this we believe to be indisputable.

It can hardly be too often insisted on that it is equally
beside the question to show that the existence of mutually
beneficial acts and of altruistic habits can be explained by
" natural selection." No amount of benevolent habits tend
even in the remotest degree to account for the intellectual
perception of" right " and " duty." Such habits may make the
doing of beneficial acts pleasant, and their omission painful ;
but such feelings have essentially nothing whatever to do
with the perception of " right " and " wrong," nor will the
faintest incipient stage of the perception be accounted for
by the strongest development of such sympathetic feelings.
Liking to do acts which happen to be good is one thing ; seeing
that actions are good, whether we or others like them or not,
is quite another.

Mr. Darwin's account of the moral sense is very different
That moral from the above. It may be expressed most briefly
areTuupTy8 by saying that it is the prevalence of more enduring
durin^in-11" instincts over less persistent ones — the former being
social instincts, the latter personal ones. He tells
us: —

"As man cannot prevent old impressions continually repassing
through his mind, he will be compelled to compare the weaker im
pressions of, for instance, past hunger, or of vengeance satisfied or
danger avoided at the cost of other men, with the instinct of sympathy
and goodwill to his fellows, which is still present and ever in some
degree active in his mind. He will then feel in his imagination that
a stronger instinct has yielded to one which now seems comparatively
weak; and then that sense of dissatisfaction will inevitably be felt
with which man is endowed, like every other animal, in order that his
instincts may be obeyed."— Vol. i. p. 90.

Mr. Darwin then means by "the moral sense" an instinct,
and adds, truly enough, that " the very essence of an instinct
is, that it is followed independently of reason" (vol. i. p. 100).

CHAP. V.] DITTY AND PLEASURE. 100

Bnt the very essence of moral action is that it is not followed
independently of reason.

When Mr. Darwin says,* u For my part I would as soon
be descended from that heroic little monkey, &e., as from a
savajre who delights to torture his enemies, offers up bloody
sacrifices, &C., and is haunted by the grossest superstitions,"
it only shows that he has not even the faintest conception of
what a ** moral nature " is.

Haying stated our wide divergence from Mr. Darwin with
respect to what the term "moral sense" denotes, we might
be dispensed from criticising instances which mast from our
point of view be irrelevant, as Mr. Darwin would probably
admit. Nevertheless, let ns examine a few of these instances,
and see if we can discover in them any justification of the
views he propound*.

As illustrations of the development of self-reproach for the
neglect of some good action, he observes : — Mr.

O * i-nuf

"A young pointer, when it first scents game, apparently cannot
help pointing. A squirrel in a cage who pate the nuts which it
cannot eat, as if to bury them in the ground, can hardly be thought to
act thus either from pleasure or pain. Hence the common assump
tion that men must be impelled to every action by experiencing some
pleasure or pain may be erroneous. Although a habit may be blindly
and implicitly follower], independently of any pleasure or pain felt at
the moment, yet if it be forcibly and abruptly checked, a vague sense
of dissatisfaction is generally experienced ; and this is especially true
in regard to persons of feeble intellect." — Vol. i. p. 80.

Now, passing over the question whether in the "pointing"
and "patting" referred to there may not be some agreeable
sensations, we contend that such instincts have nothing to
do with "morality," from their blind nature, such blindness
simply ipao facto eliminating every vestige of morality from
an action.

Mr. Darwin certainly exaggerates the force and extent of
social sympathetic feelings. Mr. Mill admits that they are

* ' Descent of Man,' vol. ii. p. 404.

110 LESSONS FROM NATURE. [CHAP. V.

" often wanting ;" but Mr. Darwin claims the conscious pos
session of such feelings for all, and quotes Hume as saying
that the view of the happiness of others " communicates a
secret joy," while the appearance of their misery "throws a
melancholy damp over the imagination." * One might wish
that this remark were universally true, but unfortunately
some men take pleasure in the pain of others; and Laroche-
foucauld even ventured on the now well-known saying, " that
there is something in the misfortunes of our best friends not
unpleasant to us/' But our feeling that the sufferings of
others are pleasant or unpleasant has nothing to do with the
question, which refers to the judgment whether the indulging
of such feelings is " right " or " wrong."

If the "social instinct" were the real basis of the moral
sense, the fact that society approved of anything would be
recognised as the supreme sanction of it. Not only, however,
is this not so, not only do we judge as to whether society in
certain cases is right or wrong, but we demand a reason why
we should obey society at all ; we demand a rational basis
and justification for social claims, if we happen to have a
somewhat inquiring turn of mind. We shall be sure avowedly
or secretly to despise and neglect the performance of acts
which we do not happen to desire, and which have not an
intellectual sanction.

The only passage in which our author seems as if about to
meet the real question at issue is very disappointing, as the
difficulty is merely evaded. He remarks : " I am aware that
some persons maintain that actions performed impulsively do
not come under the dominion of the moral sense, and cannot
be called moral" (vol. i. p. 87). This is not a correct state
ment of the intuitive view, and the difficulty is evaded thus :
" But it appears scarcely possible to draw any clear line of
distinction of this kind, though the distinction may be real !"
It seems to us, however, that there is no difficulty at all in
drawing a line between a judgment as to an action being right

* ' Inquiry concerning the Principles of Morals,' edit. 1751, p. 132.

CHAP. V.] DUTY AND PLEASUEE. Ill

or wrong and every other kind of mental act. Mr. Darwin
goes on to say : —

" Moreover, an action repeatedly performed by us, will at last be
done without deliberation or hesitation, and can then hardly be dis
tinguished from an instinct ; yet surely no one will pretend that an
action thus done ceases to be moral. On the contrary, we all feel that
an act cannot be considered as perfect, or as performed in the most
noble manner, unless it is done impulsively, without deliberation or
effort, in the same manner as by a man in \\hom the requisite qualities
are innate." — Vol. i. p. 88.

To this must be replied, in one sense, " Yes ;" in another,
" No." An action which has ceased to be directly or indi
rectly deliberate has ceased to be moral as a distinct act, but
it is moral as the continuation of those preceding deliberate
acts through which the good habit was originally formed,
and the rapidity with which the will is directed in the case
supposed may indicate the number and constancy of antece
dent meritorious volitions. Mr. Darwin seems to see this
more or less, as he adds : " He who is forced to overcome his
fear or want of sympathy before he acts, deserves, however,
in one way higher credit than the man whose innate disposi
tion leads him to a good act without effort."

Mr. Darwin gives as an illustration of the genesis of
remorse,

" of a temporary though for the time strongly persistent instinct
conquering another instinct which is usually dominant over all others,"
the case of Swallows, which " at the proper season seem all day long
to be impressed with the desire to migrate ; their habits change ; they
become restless, are noisy, and congregate in flocks. Whilst the
mother-bird is feeding or brooding over her nestlings, the maternal
instinct is probably stronger than the migratory; but the instinct
which is more persistent gains the victory, and at last, at a moment
when her young ones are not in sight, she takes flight and deserts
them. When arrived at the end of her long journey, and the migratory
instinct ceases to act, what an agony of remorse each bird would feel,
if, from being endowed with great mental activity, she could not
prevent the image continually passing before her mind of her young
ones perishing in the bleak north from cold and hunger." — Vol. i. p. 90.

Let us suppose she does suffer " agony," that feeling would
be nothing to the purpose. What is requisite is that she shall

112 LESSONS FROM NATURE. [CHAP. V.

judge that she ought not to have left them. To make clear
our point, let us imagine a man formerly entangled in ties
of affection which in justice to another his conscience has
induced him to sever. The image of the distress his act of
severance has caused may occasion him keen emotional suf
fering for years, accompanied by a clear perception that his
act has been right. Again, let us suppose another case : The
struggling father of a family becomes aware that the property
on which he lives really belongs to another, and he relin
quishes it. He may continue to judge that he has done a
proper action, whilst tortured by the trials in which his act
of justice has involved him. To assert that these acts are
merely instinctive would be absurdly false. In the cases
supposed, obedience is paid to a clear intellectual perception
and against the very strongest instincts.

Mr. Darwin objects to the belief that the word " ought "
means more than " the consciousness of the existence of a
persistent instinct," the fact that we say " hounds ought to
hunt," &c. But in fact when we so judge of them, we mean
that they do not fulfil their end as hounds or pointers if
they fail. The case of a Chinese convert, who, against his
life-long training and the universal opinion of his fellows,
elects a life of self-denial ending in martyrdom, is one of a
kind not included in Mr. Darwin's provisions.

That we have not misrepresented Mr. Darwin's exposition
of "conscience" is manifest. He says that if a man has
gratified a passing instinct, to the neglect of an enduring
instinct, he " will then feel dissatisfied with himself, and will
resolve with more or less force to act differently for the
future. This is conscience ; for conscience looks backwards
and judges past actions, inducing that kind of dissatisfaction,
which if weak we call regret, and if severe remorse " (vol. i.
p. 91). "Conscience" certainly "looks back and judges,"
but not all that "looks back and judges" is "conscience."
A judgment of conscience is one of a particular kind, namely,
a judgment according to the standard of moral worth. But
for this, a gourmand, suffering after dinner from dyspepsia

CHAP. V.] DUTY AND PLEASURE. 113

might exercise his conscience in looking back and judging
with dissatisfaction that he had eaten the wrong sauce.

Indeed, elsewhere (vol. i. p. 103) Mr. Darwin speaks of
" the standard of morality rising higher and higher," though
he nowhere explains what he means either by the "standard"
or by the " higher ;" and, indeed, it is very difficult to under
stand what can possibly be meant by this "rising of the
standard," if the "standard" is from first to last pleasure and
profit.

About sympathy for suffering he says: "Nor could we
check our sympathy, if so urged by hard reason, without
deterioration in the noblest part of our nature." But it may
well be asked, why and how noblest ?

We find, again, the singular remark : " If any desire or
instinct leading to an action opposed to the good of others,
still appears to a man, when recalled to mind, as strong as or
stronger than his social instinct, he will feel no keen regret
at having followed it" (vol. i. p. 92).

Of Indians, he says (vol. i. p. 99): "It would be difficult
to distinguish between the remorse felt by a Hindoo who has
eaten unclean food, from that felt after committing a theft."
Very likely so, for it would be difficult to say which act would,
in him, be the more culpable.

Mr. Darwin is continually mistaking a merely beneficial
action for a moral one ; but, as before said, it is one thing to
act well, and quite another to be a moral agent. A dog or
even a fruit-tree may act well, but neither is a moral ao-ent.
Of course, all the instances he brings forward with regard to
animals are not in point, on account of this misconception of
the problem to be solved. He gives, however, some examples
which tell strongly against his own view. Thus, he remarks
of the Law of Honour: " The breach of this law, even when
the breach is known to be strictly accordant with true mo
rality, has caused many a man more agony than a real crime.
We recognise the same influence in the sense of burning
shame which most of us have felt, even after the interval of
years, when calling to mind some accidental breach of a

i

114 LESSONS FROM NATURE. [CHAP. V.

trifling, though fixed, rule of etiquette" (vol. i. p. 92). This
is most true ; some trifling breach of good manners may
indeed occasion us pain ; but this may be unaccompanied by
a judgment that we are morally blameworthy. It is judgment,
and not feeling, which has to do with right and wrong. But
a yet better example might be given. What quality can
have been more universally useful to social communities than
courage? It has always been, and is still, greatly admired
and highly appreciated, and is especially adapted, both
directly and indirectly, to enable its possessors to become the
fathers of succeeding generations. If the social instinct were
the basis of the moral sense, it is infallibly certain that
courage must have come to be regarded as supremely " good,"
and cowardice to be deserving of the deepest moral condem
nation. And yet what is the fact ? A coward feels probably
self-contempt and that he has incurred the contempt of his
associates, but he does not feel " wicked." He is painMly
conscious of his defective organisation, but he knows that an
organisation, however defective, cannot in itself constitute
moral demerit. Similarly, we, the observers, despise, avoid,
or hate a coward; but we can clearly understand that a
coward may be a more virtuous man than another who
abounds in animal courage.

The better still to show how completely distinct are the
conceptions "enduring or strong instincts" and "virtuous
desires" on the one hand, and "transient or weak impulses"
and " vicious inclinations " on the other, let us substitute in
the following passage for the words which Mr. Darwin, on
his own principles, illegitimately introduces, others which
accord with those principles, and we shall see how such
substitution eliminates every element of morality from the
passage :—

" Looking to future generations, there is no cause to fear
that the social instincts will grow weaker, and we may expect
that enduring [virtuous] habits will grow stronger, becoming
perhaps fixed by inheritance. In this case the struggle be
tween our stronger [higher] and weaker [lower] impulses will

CHAP. V.] DUTY AND PLEASUEE. 115

be less severe, and the strong [virtue] will be triumphant "
(vol. i. p. 104).

As to past generations, Mr. Darwin tells us (vol. i. p. 166)
that at all times throughout the world tribes have sup
planted other tribes ; and as social acts are an element in
their success, sociality must have been intensified, and this
because "an increase in the number of well-endowed men
will certainly give an immense advantage to one tribe over
another." No doubt ! but this only explains an augmenta
tion of mutually beneficial actions. It does not in the least
even tend to explain how the moral judgment was first
formed.

Our author again and again uses words, which are only
explicable on the intuitive view, as if they required no ex
planation whatever. Tims (vol. i. p. 101) he speaks of a
certain virtue as being " one of the noblest with which man is
endowed," and says that " the highest stage in moral culture
at which we can arrive is when we recognise that we ought to
control our thoughts."* But, according to Mr. Darwin, the
moral sense is the predominance of one instinct over another
in intensity or duration. Here there is no room for any
element of quality, and for him to introduce such is, in fact,
to abandon his position. In the words of Mr. Grote (p. 83)
— " What is it, then, that thus, distinct from duration and
intensity of enjoyment, makes one sort of happiness more
desirable, worthier, worth more than another ? .... it is a
third dimension of happiness besides intensity and duration,
and far the most important of the three." And again (p.
125) — " When we find such language .... in the mouths
of impugners of a supposed intuitivist philosophy, we are at
first probably led to think whether such a philosophy be not
what ' expellas furca, tamen usque recurret ' . . . . and ....
'we may conclude that we cannot write many consecutive
words upon a moral subject without involving ' a higher
philosophy."

* Mr. Darwin quotes Marcus Aurelius ; he might have quoted an older and
more venerable authority.

i 2

HQ LESSONS FROM NATURE. [CHAP. V.

In concluding what I have to say relative to Mr. Darwin's
conception and explanation of the moral sense (namely, that
its first foundation and origin lies in the social instincts,
including sympathy, themselves gained primarily through
natural selection),* I may quote some observations made
Mr Hutton.t He says that, supposing the moral nature of man
to have been simply evolved from brutes, « the moral nature
must, then, be wholly determined by the physical agencies m
which it is reared. And to suppose that they could give a
power of self-determination of which they are not themselves
possessed, or issue in a sense of obligation, when they are a
mere bundle of helpless forces, is to suppose nature at once
free and servile, vigilant and asleep."

The notions that the distinct, deliberate, reflective, repre
sentative powers of the mind are essentially the same as the
mere indeliberate, presentative faculties ; and that the gre
garious instincts of a brute are fundamentally one with our
moral intuitions, is open to another of Mr. Button's excel
lent remarks (vol. i. p. 47) :— " Nothing is less scientific than
any hypothesis which tries to run one set of facts into another
without justification, in order to evade the admission of a
distinct root. Instead of increasing our means of representing
the universe, such a procedure confines and disturbs them,"
and " the problem of all atheistic philosophers has been, not
to find the real ultimate link between the different classes of
natural force and life, but to soften away as much as possible
the one into the other, so as to make the transition imper
ceptible, and so introduce a thoroughly new creative force, as
if it were but an expansion of that beneath it " (p. 51).

It would not be impossible, however, to modify this ex
pression of Mr. Darwin's views, so as to make them harmonise
with our ethical perceptions. If he were to say that a moral
First Cause had so ordered events that the right and the
expedient in the main coincide, and thus virtue and happi-

- .

Descent of Man,' vol. ii. p. 394.
f ' Essays,' vol. i. p. 43.

CHAP. V.] DUTY AND PLEASURE. 117

ness are so far (though very imperfectly) conjoined here as
to reasonably lead us to look forward to their complete union
hereafter ; and if he were further to add that such a Cause,
having implanted in man the unanalysable power of per
ceiving moral obligation, had made use of the lower faculties,
and amongst them social instincts, as occasions to call out
into action and develop this power, then his hypothesis
would not be manifestly inadequate, as it is. But, unfortu
nately, this is not on the face of it his teaching. We are
referred for the "origin of morals" to the same source to
which he before believed that he had traced the " origin of
species." He says :* — " The first foundation or origin of the
moral sense lies in the social instincts, including sympathy ;
and these instincts, no doubt, were primarily gained, as in
the case of the lower animals, through natural selection."

Criticisms on Mr. Darwin such as the foregoing — criticisms
of mine which appeared in the ' Genesis of Species' Mr.Huxiey'B
and the ' Quarterly Review '—elicited from Pro- SSi&
fessor Huxley a very interesting reply, which CIlUcs'
appeared in the 'Contemporary Review' for Nov. 1871.

As to this reply, I have now, and shall have later on,
various observations to offer of very different kinds.

But first, as to the question concerning morality I have, I
conceive, some reason to complain of Professor Huxley's treat
ment of my observations. From the remarks which he has
again and again made, it is evident to whom he attributes
the article in the ' Quarterly Review.' Nevertheless he, in
the first place, misrepresents my statement in my book, and
attributes to me an absurdity which is not in it, but which
is distinctly pointed out and repudiated in the ' Quarterly
Review.' In the second place, he accuses me of neglecting
a remark made by Mr. Darwin, which remark is not only
referred to, but fully quoted in the same review.

First, with regard to Mr. Darwin: Professor Huxley ac
cuses me of charging that gentleman " with being ignorant

' Descent of Man,' vol. ii. p. 39-t.

118 LESSONS FROM NATURE. [CHAP. V.

of the distinction between material and formal good
ness," though Mr. Darwin himself "discusses the very
question at issue in a passage, well worth reading, and
also comes to a conclusion opposed to Mr. Mivart's axiom."
As I have said, this passage is not only referred to, but
quoted in the ' Quarterly Eeview.' In that passage, how
ever, Mr. Darwin, though he notices, gives no evidence of
fully understanding my distinction, nor, though he notices an
objection, does he meet the difficulty in the least. Professor
Huxley seems to think that because Mr. Darwin has referred
to an objection, that that objection has thereby lost its force.
The objection, however, has not been refuted either by Mr.
Darwin or Professor Huxley, and hence it becomes probable
that, as I am convinced is the case, it cannot be refuted.

We will turn now to the more serious misrepresentation of
which I have to complain. My critic exhibits me as com
mitting the absurdity of maintaining that no act can be
" good" unless it is done with deliberate and actual advert
ence in every instance— as if I thought that a man must stand
still, consider and reflect in each case in order to perform a
meritorious action. He also implies that I am so unreason
able as to deny " merit " to actions done unreflectingly and
spontaneously from the love of God or one's neighbour.

What I assert, however, is, that for an act to be "good"
it must be really directed by the doer to a good end, either
actually or virtually. The idea of good, which he has in the
past apprehended, must be influencing the man at the time,
whether he adverts to it or not, otherwise the action is not
moral. The merit of that virtue which shows itself even in
the spontaneous, indeliberate actions of a good man, results
from the fact of previous acts having been consciously di
rected to goodness, by which a habit has been formed. The
more thoroughly a man is possessed by the idea of goodness,
the more his whole being is saturated with that idea, the
more will goodness show itself in all his even spontaneous
actions, which thus will have additional merit through their
very spontaneity. Now this was actually expressed in the

CHAP. V.] DUTY AND PLEASUKE. 119

' Quarterly Review,' where of such an act it is stated that
" it is moral as the continuation of those preceding deli
berate acts through which the good habit was originally
formed ; and the rapidity with which the will is directed
in the case supposed may indicate the number and con
stancy of antecedent meritorious actions." Not only, how
ever, does Professor Huxley avoid notice of this passage,
but he quotes my words as to the unmeritorious nature
of actions " unaccompanied by mental acts of conscious
will directed towards the fulfilment of duty," so as to
lead his readers to believe that I say this absolutely. He
takes care not to let them know that here I am speaking *
only of the " actions of brutes, such as those of the bee, the
ant, or the beaver," which, of course, never at any period
of the lives of any one of these creatures were consciously
directed to " goodness" or " duty "as an end, so that no later
spontaneous actions could in their case result from an ac
quired habit of virtue, on which account I was fully justified
in speaking of their actions as devoid of morality. This mis
representation is noteworthy ; but what is surprising in one
whose eulogies of " honesty " are so warm and so repeated is,
that the whole passage has been reprinted totidem verbis in
his ' Critiques and Addresses,' after having had his attention
directly called to the injustice he had committed.

Professor Huxley speaks of " the most beautiful character
to which humanity can attain, that of the man who does good
without thinking about it " (p. 468). Does he mean that the
absence of thought is the cause of the beauty ? If so, then
if I do the most beneficial acts in my sleep, I attain this
apex of moral beauty. This, of course, he will not allow.
Therefore, it is not by reason of the not thinking about it
that the action is beautiful, but, as Professor Huxley goes on
to say, because its author " loves justice and is repelled by
evil." In this last point, then — in this habit of mind, the
beauty consists. But will the Professor say that the man got

* See ' Genesis of Species,' p. 221, 2nd edition.

120 LESSONS FKOM NATUKE. [CHAP. V.

himself into this state without previous acts of conscious will ?
Can a man love justice without being able to distinguish
between the just and unjust ? If he loves moral beauty, must
he not know it ?

I would fain believe that Professor Huxley does not
mean what he says when he asserts that acts may be moral
which are not directed to a good end. Were it so, such
words as "virtue" and "goodness" would have no rational
and logical place in his vocabulary. Similarly, I would
fain disbelieve him when he says he "utterly rejects" the
distinction between " material " and " formal " morality. I
would do so because whatever he may have said since, he
did once maintain that " our volition counts for something as
a condition of the course of events." If, however, he rejects
the distinction he says he rejects, he thereby positively
denies every element of freedom and spontaneity to the
human will, and reduces our volition to a rank in the
" course of events," which counts for no more than the
freedom of a match as to ignition, when placed within the
flame of a candle. With the enunciation of this fatalism,
" formal morality " most certainly falls, and together with
it every word denoting "virtue," which thus becomes a
superfluous synonym for pleasure and expediency.

And here it may be well to make a few further remarks
upon our power of will as connected with respousi-

Free-will. r .

bility and moral reprobation. We have seen that
the distinction between duty and pleasure is a fact which
introspection shows us. Another fact which introspection
also shows, is our power of " attention." By this attention
is meant the deliberate, self-conscious act, not the mere
automatic attention which a sudden strange sensation may
call from us indeliberately. This distinction is recognised
and well stated by Dr. Carpenter. He says : —

" Now this state of active as compared with passive recipiency — of
attention as compared with mere insouciance, may be either volitional or
automatic j that is, it may be either intentionally induced by an act of
the will, or it may be produced uninttntionally by the powerful attrac-

CHAP. V.] DUTY AND PLEASURE. 121

tion which the object (whether external or internal) has for the eye.
Hence, when we fix our attention on a particular object by a deter
minate act of our own, the strength of the effort required to do so is
greater in proportion to the attraction of some other object. Thus, the
student who is earnestly endeavouring to comprehend a passage in
' Prometheus/ or to solve a mathematical problem, may have his atten
tion grievously distracted by the sound of a neighbouring piano, which
will make him think of the fair one who is playing it, or of the beloved
object with whom he last waltzed to the same measure. Here the will
may do its very utmost to keep the attention fixed, and may yet be
overmastered by an involuntary attraction too potent for it ; just as if
a powerful electro-magnet were to snatch from our hands a piece of
iron which we do our very utmost to retain within our grasp."— Mental
Physiology, p. 132.

Closely connected with this fact of active "attention"
is the faculty of choice and volition of which we are all
conscious. Just as our consciousness tells us that we are
continuously existing beings, so our consciousness tells us
that we have a power of choice which we occasionally exercise
in opposition to what most strongly attracts us. We are
conscious of volitions of two distinct kinds — (1.) An act of
will in which we simply follow, without deliberation, in the
direction induced by all the attractions and repulsions act
ing upon us — as when we walk down to dinner, or stretch out
our hand to save a person from falling. (2.) An act of will
in which, after full deliberation, we elect to follow a course
which we perceive to be in opposition to the resultant impulse
of all the involuntary attractions and repulsions acting upon
us, and make an " anti-impulsive effort," * — as when, from a
love of God, we deny ourselves an immediate gratification
from indulgence in which we do not perceive any remote
evil consequences to ourselves. It is not necessary on this
occasion to go further into the question of free-will ; it is
sufficient for our present purpose to note, as an unquestion
able fact, that men believe they have this double kind of
volition, and that they have a firm persuasion of their power

* Upon this subject &ee the article on Mr. Mill's denial of Free-will in the
April number of the 'Dublin Review,' and an appendix to that article in the
number for July 1874.

122 LESSONS FROM NATURE. [CHAP. V.

of true voluntary action — and that they have such persuasion,
the terms in all languages of moral reprobation or praise
is sufficient to demonstrate. When a man has notoriously
lost his power of self-control, and become an automaton,
dominated by external or internal attractions and repulsions,
we say he is not " an accountable being." Nevertheless, it
may here be remarked by the way, that fatalists, like Herbert
Spencer and the late John Stuart Mill, when they assert that
all men's actions are determined, assert that which it is im
possible even for them to pretend to prove, and which can
only be maintained on speculative and a priori grounds, yet
inasmuch as they contradict the common voice of mankind,
and what so many affirm to be the declaration of their con
sciousness, they are clearly bound to prove their position.
Assertors of " free-will " do not, of course, maintain that they
are conscious of what is external to their consciousness, as if
they could see, as a spectator, that external and internal in
fluences do not in all cases determine their actions ; but what
they do assert is, that they are conscious that they themselves,
in the very act of deciding, exercise occasionally a free power
of choice, for which choice they are justly responsible. Just
as a blind man pushing his way through a thicket in one
direction, but suddenly taking another, because on recon
sidering his past footsteps he is convinced he was wrong,
knows that his change of path was due to his own thoughts,
arid not to any rocks, pits, or other external impediments,
though he cannot affirm that such were not close to him
when he turned. Fatalists who try to build up on their
principles a representation of what we do when we exercise
a power of choice, devise a representation which does not
answer to, and fully resemble the process made known to us
by our consciousness, but is an incomplete representation * of
that process.

In closest relation with our power of will is that power

* See an article in the ' North British Eeview,' April— July, vol. lii. 1870,
p. 93.

CHAP. V.] DUTY AND PLEASUKE. 123

which our self-consciousness assures us we have of apprehend
ing moral worth, which we have already considered, but as to
which a few final words may be added. On introspection, it
is at once apparent that in pronouncing any man or action to
be " good " our reason forms a judgment different in kind
from the judgment that any man or action is "pleasure-
giving." If our neighbour, intending to do us a malicious in
jury, through some miscalculation on his part, benefits us, we
do not on that account judge him in so acting to have acted
" rightly," or pronounce his action to have been " virtuoiis."
Indeed, so far from our necessarily associating " pleasure "
with virtue, we judge a benevolent action to have had its
merit increased by the very self-denial which may have in
evitably resulted from its performance. We are able clearly
enough to distinguish between a deliberate judgment that
any given action of ours is right or wrong, and a spontaneous
indeliberate tendency to do what is generally approved of by
those with whom we dwell or a feeling of distress at some
violation of conventionality. The failure to repress, when in
society, some harmless natural function may produce the
most acute feeling of distress without the smallest perception
that any "wrong" has been committed; and on the other
hand we may have given pleasure to and received the most
lively proofs of gratitude from our fellows on account of
some act which has been really done against our conscience.
Far from our perception of morality being the same thing
with a feeling of deference to the opinions and feelings of
our fellow-men, we ourselves judge whether society in certain
cases is right or wrong, and we demand a rational basis and
justification for social claims themselves.

The name of Mr. Herbert Spencer has been above referred
to in connection with this matter, and the position ^ren^eerr^ert
he takes up must not be passed over. In the first ™W8.
place the process of evolution, as understood by Mr. Spencer,
compels him to be at one with Mr. Darwin in his denial of
the existence of any fundamental and essential distinction
between duty and pleasure. Virtuous lives are represented as

124 LESSONS FROM NATURE. [CHAP. V.

mere results of the continuation of that same process which
has produced the association of wolves in packs or hornets
in a nest. Brutal passions — the desire to pursue and prey
upon a victim or to escape such pursuit, or the gross
appetite of sex, are given to us as the ultimate components
at once of our loftiest aspirations and of our tenderest feelings
— of the most refined human affection and of our sense of awe
at the Divine Majesty itself. It cannot in fact be denied
that " virtue " and " goodness " are words which can have no
rational or logical place in the vocabulary of any one who
accepts Mr. Herbert Spencer's views. This is the case since
Mr. Spencer explicitly and utterly denies every element of
freedom to the human will — a fatal but necessary conse
quence of his denial of the persistent and substantial ego.
He says: — *

"Considered as an internal perception, the illusion" [of human
freedom] " consists in supposing that at each moment the ego is some
thing more than the aggregate of feelings and ideas actual and nascent,
which then exists." .... "This composite psychical state which
excites the action, is at the same time the ego which is said to will the
action. Naturally enough, then, the subject of such psychical changes
says that he wills the action ; since, psychically considered, he is at
that moment nothing more than the composite state of consciousness
by which the action is excited. But to say that the performance of the
action is, therefore, the result of his free will, is to say that he deter
mines the cohesions of the psychical states which arouse the action ;
and as these psychical states constitute himself at that moment, this is
to say that these psychical states determine their own cohesions, which
is absurd. Their cohesions have been determined by experiences — the
greater part of them, constituting what we call his natural character,
by the experiences of antecedent organisms, and the rest by his own
experience. The changes which at each moment take place in his
consciousness, and among others those which he is said to will, are
produced by this infinitude of previous experiences registered in his
nervous structure, co-operating with the immediate impressions on his
senses : the effects of these combined factors being in every case
qualified by the physical state, general or local, of his organism."

Our doctrine is that the will indeed necessarily follows the
stronger motive, but that the soul has, on certain occasions,

* ' Psychology,' vol. i. p. 500.

CHAP. V.] DUTY AND PLEASURE. 125

the power of intensifying one motive at will, and so making
that motive, for the time, the stronger. As Professor
Carpenter has justly observed, much of the mind's work is
done by its "automatic faculties," but "their direction is
given by the will, in virtue of its power of intensifying any
idea or feeling that is actually present to consciousness, by
fixing the attention upon it." Asserting, as we do, the sub
stantial and persistent ego, we have no hesitation in affirm
ing that the ego occasionally does " determine the cohesions
of the psychical states which arouse an action," and at the
same time in denying " that these psychical states determine
their own cohesions."
Mr. Spencer adds : —

" To reduce the general question to its simplest form : — Psychical
changes either conform to law or they do not. If they do not conform
to law, this work, in common with all works on the subject, is sheer
nonsense : no science of psychology is possible. If they do conform to
law, there cannot be any such thing as free will."

It is really impossible to deny that this passage is " sheer
nonsense," since works on psychology have again and again
been written by authors who fully accept the freedom of the
will. Mr. Spencer's error lies in not distinguishing between
perceptions and emotional states which cannot but produce
an effect in direct proportion to their strength and that
faculty of will which our consciousness tells us is no
mere impotence arising from incomplete adjustment; but a
conscious exertion of power adding to the strength of such
emotional states or such perceptions as may be selected for
intensification.

But the want in Mr. Spencer's mind of any perception of
morality is so utter that he looks upon the absence of moral
freedom as a positive gain. He says : —

" I will only further say that freedom of the will, did it exist, would
be at variance with the beneficent necessity displayed in the evolution
of the correspondence between the organism and the environment."
. . . . " were the inner relations partly determined by some other
agency, the harmony at any moment existing would be disturbed, and

126 LESSONS FROM NATURE. [CHAP. V.

the advance to a higher harmony impeded. There would be a retarda
tion of that grand progress which is bearing humanity onwards to a
higher intelligence and a nobler character."

In blaming Mr. Spencer for this passage I strongly protest
against being charged, as I have been by Professor Huxley,
with the absurdity of denying merit and beauty to sponta
neous acts of voluntary adhesion to good. Such acts may be
highly meritorious, and at the same time eminently free.
All I mean is that for an act to be "moral," the doer of it
must directly or indirectly be moved by the idea of " right "
present to his mind then or antecedently, so as to have
become mentally habitual. Such habitual actions may be
eminently " free," since freedom consists in the unhindered
power of following the dictates of intelligence concerning
what is best and most desirable. In proportion as less worthy
motives have more power over us, just so far are we less free.

It would be a superfluous task here to expatiate upon the
immorality of a philosophy which denies to man's will any
more power of choice than a fragment of paper thrown into
a furnace has a choice concerning its ignition.

But Mr. Spencer's system is even yet more profoundly
immoral, as it denies any objective distinction between right
and wrong in any being, whether men are or are not re
sponsible for their actions. According to our author, the
laws of nature are ultimately reducible to one force riot neces
sarily moral, and therefore all laws and all actions must be,
in ultimate analysis, equally moral or equally immoral.

Every action whatever is a mode of the Unknowable, and
the stab of the assassin and the traffic of the courtesan are
as much the necessary results and outcome of that ultimate
principle as are the charity of a Howard or the self-devotion
of Marseilles' good bishop.

With reason then we may affirm of Mr. H. Spencer's
system, "that it is radically and necessarily immoral."
Although (as I have learned with no small surprise)* it is a

* From his ' Replies to Criticisms :' ' Fortnightly Review,' November
1873, p. 729.

CHAP. V.] DUTY AND PLEASUEE. 127

fact that Mr. Spencer himself, when he published his theory,
was himself unaware that it might " be so regarded."

To sum up then, it is unquestionable, if what has been
here urged is valid, that nothing put forward by
Mr. Mill, Mr. Darwin, Mr. Huxley, or Mr. Spencer,
has any weight in contradicting that lesson which nature, by
introspection, teaches us — namely, that we have a power of
discerning, and of freely obeying, an objective moral code
which our faculties are organised to discern ; a power of
forming more or less developed moral judgments being uni
versally diffused amongst mankind, while there is no evi
dence that any such judgments are formed by even the very
highest members of the mere brute creation. Moreover, it
is clear that to assert moral judgments to be but feelings of
social sympathy or love of tribe inherited and generally
misunderstood, is equivalent to a denial of morality root and
branch ; and, as we may hereafter come still more plainly to
see, absolutely stultifies moral precepts as being necessarily
mere folly.

( 128 )

CHAPTER VI.

MAN.

"The study of religious beliefs, of progress, or degradation, and of
the community of nature found in the most diverse races of men, show
(together with language and moral perception) that man differs funda
mentally from brutes, while the anatomical resemblances to animals
which his frame exhibits in no way invalidate the argument drawn
from the study of mind, that his origin (like his nature) is peculiar
and distinct."

WE have seen, in the last two chapters, that rational Ian-
other human guaSe and moral perception are universal characters
tKbT" of man in hl's normal condition, i.e., when he is
sidesman-" neither locally nor generally paralysed, nor insane.
Si pe?. But to learn fully the lesson which science has to
teach us with respect to his nature, we must con
sider certain other characteristics common to him, both as
presented to us in his simplest and most barbarous condition
as well as in his highest state of civilisation. Only by
so doing can we qualify ourselves to form any scientific
opinion as to the much-debated question of his origin. In
attaining this stage of our inquiry, we have reached that
which is proverbially the proper study of mankind.

And, indeed, that the proper study of mankind is man
special can seems to be a proposition the truth of which is

now for this . .

study. being now forced upon us with peculiar intensity.
In spite of the expulsion of the " microcosm" by astronomy
from the centre of the material universe, he is at present
acquiring yet fresh claims to be considered the one key
whereby may be unlocked the mysteries of the " macrocosm."
With the dispelling of that dream in which the little planet

CHAP. VI.] MAN. 129

Tellus appeared the great solid nucleus of encircling crystal
spheres existing only for its sake, began the vigorous prose
cution of the physical sciences — the investigation of nature
external to man. This investigation having reached a stage
rendering possible the exposition of all non-human pheno
mena as the multifold co-ordinated and harmonised manifesta
tions of one great process — a theory of evolution ; the universal
adequacy of that theory must be tested by its application to
the phenomena presented to us by man both in his highest
existing condition, and also as the wild tenant of the forest —
the Homo sylvaticus. If all the phenomena which human life
presents are capable of being brought under the laws which
regulate inferior organisms, it is hardly possible to exaggerate
the amount of support which would thereby be given to the
universality of the evolutionary theory. Moreover, it is plain
that in such a case all those who deem the theory of evolution
sufficient to account, for the origin of all other animals, must
logically admit it to be sufficient to account for the origin of
man also.

At present there are two very distinct views as to the
origin of the animal population of this planet. Twoconflict-

I. The first of these views — the monistic hypothe- theses-

sis — asserts that one uniform law has presided over the whole,
since all such creatures are distinguished from one another by
differences which are differences of degree only, and not of kind.

II. The other of these views — the dualistic hypothesis —
asserts that man (whatever may have been the case with
brute animals) must have originated in some special manner,
since the difference between him and brutes is a difference
of kind, and not one merely of degree — he embodying a
distinct principle not present in brute animals.

A supporter of the monistic hypothesis must maintain that
man at his first appearance was literally in the lowest and
most brutal stage of his existence, whence he has gradually
ascended to his present condition by a process of progressive
development attended with only exceptional and relatively
insignificant processes of retrogression and degradation. He

K

130 LESSONS FKOM NATURE. [CHAP. VI.

will consequently not only maintain that races have existed
without articulate speech, or any equivalent symbolic system,
without perceptions of "right" and "wrong," and without
religious conceptions, but also that the first men were
actually so destitute. He may or may not expect to find
specimens of this lowest condition of mankind still sur
viving at the present day, but he will surely anticipate that
archaeological, historical, and ethnological research must re
veal facts pointing plainly towards such an early condition.
He will also anticipate that these sciences will bring to our
knowledge tribes in an intellectual stage which is less remote
from that presumed early condition than from a choice assem
blage of men living now — say, the members of our own
" Koyal Society."

A supporter of the dualistic hypothesis must, on the other
hand, maintain that man at the very first moment of his ex
istence was at once essentially man, and separated, at his very
origin, from the highest brutes by as impassable a gulf as
that which anywhere exists between them to-day. He will
consequently not only maintain that no race will anywhere
be found without a mode of rational expression, moral per
ceptions, and religious conceptions (however rudimentary or
atrophied), but also that the first men possessed all these.
He will be confident that no scientific researches will bring
to our knowledge any human races devoid of reason, or (what
we have in a former chapter seen to be its necessary concomi
tant in a " rational animal ") the power of expressing internal
thoughts, as distinguished from mere feelings, by external
sensible signs. He will also expect to find in all races of
men indications of religious conceptions and of an apprehen
sion of right and wrong, however curiously or perversely
these abstract conceptions may be concretely embodied.
Finally, he will be confident that no race will be found less
remote intellectually from the highest existing men than
from a state of brutal irrationality. The actual first origin
of man must for ever remain a problem insoluble by unaided
reason — a matter incapable of direct investigation, and, reve-

CHAP. VI.] MAN. 131

lation apart, only to be investigated by conjecture and analogy.
This being so, we must be content to study existing races of
men, and thence arrive at the best conclusions we may, with
the aid to be derived from history, archaeology, and geology.

The questions, then, to which attention should be directed
with a view to determining whether the balance of Test ques-
evidence favours the monistic or the dualistic these. °r
hypothesis, are the following ; and to answer these, the
savage, Homo sylvaticus, must serve as our test. 1. Can any
direct evidence be found of races of man, past or present,
existing in a brutal or irrational condition ? 2. Does avail
able evidence clearly point to the past existence of such a
condition ? 3. Are races anywhere to be found in a con
dition which is less remote from mere animal existence than
from the highest human development of which we have as
yet experience ?

Should unmistakable evidence of the sort be forthcoming,
then the existence of an essential difference, a difference of
kind, between human and brutal nature, could no longer be
maintained. It would also follow that if other animals have
arisen by a merely natural process of development, reason
could oppose no barrier to the belief that the origin of man,
in the totality of his nature, was also due to such a merely
natural process. If, on the other hand, no such direct
evidence is forthcoming, and none even pointing clearly in
the indicated direction ; if, also, no races can be found in a
condition nearer to irrational brutality than to the highest
refinement — then it must be admitted that we have no scien
tific ground for asserting that man is of one nature with the
brutes, or that it is an a priori probability that his origin
was the same as theirs.

More than this, in the absence of such evidence it may
fairly be inferred that there is an d priori probability against
this community of nature and origin. It may be so inferred,
because it seems likely that if all men were once irrational
animals, some tribe of the kind would have survived in some
remote part of the world to this day, especially as, on the

K 2

132 LESSONS FllOM NATURE. [CHAP. VI.

theory of evolution, they must have been well fitted to main
tain themselves under the conditions existing in their own
region.

Man is generally admitted to be, as to antiquity, at the
most, but a tertiary mammal ; but Australia presents us with
a fauna in some respects triassic. Some eminent authorities,
however, assert that miocene man still exists, and that we
behold him in the Esquimaux. It may naturally be a matter
of some regret that this cannot be proved, since, if the
Esquimaux are indeed miocene men surviving to this day,
an investigation of their mental condition would almost
suffice to solve the problem decisively one way or the other.
It would suffice to solve it, since we might fairly argue from
the progress made between the miocene period and to-day,
to that which might be supposed to have taken place between
the beginning of the tertiary period and the miocene.

If, however, ethnology and archaeology fail to furnish the
requisite evidence, and thus show themselves manifestly in
competent to solve the question, then the cause must be trans
ferred to the tribunal of Philosophy for decisive judgment.
In that case, if philosophy (including psychology) shows us, as
it is here contended that it does, that there is a difference of
kind between the lowest races of men and the highest species
of brutes, pointing to a difference of essential principle, and,
therefore, of origin, then ethnology and archaeology (in the case
of their supposed failure as to the evidence referred to) become
important auxiliaries, and will powerfully aid to reinforce such
conclusion. They will, by their eloquent silence, supply us
with additional grounds for maintaining that the progress of
physical science will but more and more clearly bring out
the difference existing between all merely animal natures
and that of the rational animal man.

There are five main subjects of inquiry which bear upon
Throe new this question. These are : 1. Language; 2. Morals;
inquiry. 3. Religion ; 4. Progress ; 5. Community of Nature
— as made known (or contradicted) by yet other lines of
inquiry.

CHAP. VI.] MAN. 133

Language and morals have been already considered in the
two preceding chapters, but before passing to the third
subject-matter above enumerated, it may be well to refer
to some further unprejudiced testimonies to the unity of
human reason generally, as exhibited in widely different
races. And here Mr. Tylor may again be cited with advan
tage. He expresses himself* thus: "We come Preiiminary
back to the fact, so full of suggestion, that the note'
languages of the world represent substantially the same
intellectual art, the higher nations indeed gaining more ex
pressive power than the lowest tribes, yet doing this not by
introducing new and more effective central principles, but
by mere addition and improvement in detail." Speaking of
the native proverbs of Fernando Po, he tells us,t "There
are hundreds at about as high an intellectual level as those
of Europe," and he cites examples. We have said that we
mean by language, not emotional expressions, but the enun
ciations of judgments concerning " the what," " the hoiv"
and " the why" Mr. Tylor's verdict as to the result of the
application of this test to the expressions of savages is
sufficiently distinct. He says : — $

" Man's craving to know the causes at work in each event he witnesses,
the reasons why each state of things he surveys is such as it is and no
other, is no product of high civilisation, but a characteristic of his race
down to its lowest stage. Among rude savages it is already an intel
lectual appetite whose satisfaction claims many of the moments not
engrossed by war or sport, food or sleep."

This decisive judgment may yet be reinforced by some
very distinct admissions, for which we have to thank Mr.
Darwin himself: — §

" The Fuegians rank amongst the lowest barbarians ; but I was con
tinually struck with surprise how closely the three natives on board
H.M.S. ' Beagle/ who had lived some years in England and could talk
a little English, resembled us in disposition, and in most of our mental
qualities."

* ' Primitive Culture,' vol. i. p. 216. t Ibid. vol. i. p. 80.

t Ibid. vol. i.. p. 332. The italics are ourw.
§ 'Voyage of the " Beagle,'' ' vol. i. p. 34.

134 LESSONS FKOM NATURE. [CHAP. VI.

Again :—

" The American aborigines, negroes, and Europeans, differ as much
from each other in mind as any three races that can be named ; yet I
was incessantly struck, whilst living with the Fuegians on board the
' Beagle,' with the many little traits of character, showing how similar
their minds were to ours; and so it was with a full-blooded negro with
whom I happened once to be intimate."

Again :| " Differences of this kind (mental) between
the highest men of the highest races and the lowest savages,
are connected by the finest gradations." He also bears
testimony to the substantial unity (he says, " close simi
larity ") between men of all races in the following passage :t
"This is shown by the pleasure which they all take in
dancing, rude music, acting, painting, tattooing, and other
wise decorating themselves — in their mutual comprehension
of gesture-language — and, as I shall be able to show in
a future essay, by the same expression in their features,
and by the same inarticulate cries, when they are excited
by various emotions. This similarity, or rather identity,
is striking, when contrasted with the different expressions
which may be observed in distinct species of monkeys.
There is good evidence that the art of shooting with bows
and arrows has not been handed down from any common
progenitor of mankind, yet the stone arrow-heads, brought
from the most distant parts of the world and manu
factured at the most remote periods, are, as Nilsson has
shown, almost identical ; and this fact can only be accounted
for by the various races having similar inventive or mental
powers. The same observation has been made by archae
ologists with respect to certain widely -prevalent ornaments,
such as zigzags, &c. ; and with respect to various simple
beliefs and customs, such as the burying of the dead under
megalithic structures. I remember observing in South
America, that there, as in so many other parts of the world,

* ' Voyage of the "Beagle," ' vol. i. p. 232.
f Op. cit. p. 35. t Op. cit. p. 232.

CHAP. VI.] MAN. 135

man has generally chosen the summits of lofty hills, on
which to throw up piles of stones, either for the sake of
recording some remarkable event, or for burying his dead."

Mr. Darwin then plainly tells us that all the essential
mental characters of civilised man are found, in however
less completely developed a state, in the very lowest races of
men.

These testimonies by themselves are sufficient to show
that, in the opinion of those most capable of acquiring and
most certain to acquire information tending to confirm the
monistic hypothesis, not only are there no evidences of
men in a nascent state as to the power of speech, but all
available evidence shows that in the essential of language
the various existing races of men are mentally one. This,
indeed, is manifest and undeniable. No tribe exists which
cannot count two, cannot say " I," " woman," " death,"
" food," &c. In other words, there is no tribe which does
not express general conceptions and abstract ideas by ar
ticulate sounds. But, as we have seen, the differences be
tween vocal sounds capable of such expression are but
differences of degree, while the differences between all such
utterances and vocal utterances which but express sen
sations and emotions is a difference of kind. Therefore, we
were compelled to conclude, in our last chapter but one,
that the most imperfect languages offer us no indication of a
transition from irrational cries, being separated from the
latter by an indefinitely wide barrier, while they differ from
the highest speech, but by a greater simplicity, which
indeed is sometimes far more apparent than real. We
have also seen reason to conclude, in our last chapter, that
there is no evidence whatever for the existence of man in a
non-moral condition, or with fundamental moral principles
which directly contradict our own.

Turning now to the first subject-matter of our present
inquiry, that concerning religion — concerning the ^st^ew
universality, or non-universality, of religious con- religion.
ceptions — it is once more necessary here, as in the subjects

136 LESSONS FEOM NATURE. [CHAP. VI.

" language " and " morals," to commence with definitions
and distinctions. Obviously it cannot here be meant to
assert that men have, almost universally, a positive religious
belief, since so many of those we, most of us, know familiarly,
have none. It is evident that we have no cause to be sur
prised at finding generally diffused in some other nations
irreligious or non-religious phenomena analogous to those
we may meet with in our own. Neither can it be meant
that a distinct religious system is to be found in every
nation or tribe, since it would be very probable that the
descendants of some isolated irreligious parents skould have
grown up devoid of religion altogether. What is meant by
the universality of religious conceptions is the general dif
fusion amongst all considerable races of men : first, of a
power to apprehend the existence of a good supernatural
Being possessed of knowledge and will, and rewarding men
in another world in accordance with their conduct in this ;
secondly, of a tendency to believe in the actual existence of
superhuman powers and beings, and also in an existence
beyond the grave — however shadowy, distorted, or aborted
such conceptions may seem to us to be.

We have then to consider our authors' teachings as to the
following questions : — First, whether any people are now in
a state equally unconscious of the preternatural, and equally
unconcerned with regard to a future life, as are the brutes ?
Secondly, whether any races exist which may be deemed
to be in a transitional condition from brutish non-religiosity,
or with religious conceptions so essentially divergent from
our own as to be different in kind, and, therefore, incapable
of transition either from or to the highest religious con
dition ?

But if in the former inquiries it was necessary for us to
be upon our guard against the misapprehensions

Prejudices. i • • , • P

and misinterpretations 01 travellers, it is still more
necessary for us to be so here. The necessity is so great
because both theological and anti-theological prejudices are
more likely than are any others to warp the iudgment and

CHAP. VI.] MAN. 137

influence the appreciations of even well-meaning observers.
As to the theological prejudice, however, we can effectually
guard against that by building upon the facts and inferences
offered to us by the authors here referred to. Whatever
may be their most conspicuous merits, or their shortcomings,
theological prejudice will not be a vice we shall have to
guard against in them. Admissions made by them, favour
able to theology, may be accepted without apprehension upon
that score.

As regards the influence of bias in this matter, I will cite
some remarks of Mr. Tylor himself which are well worthy
of consideration : —

" While observers who have had fair opportunities of studying the
religions of savages have thus sometimes done scant justice to the facts
before their eyes, the hasty denials of others who have judged without
even facts can carry no great weight. A sixteenth-century traveller
gave an account of the natives of Florida which is typical of such :
' Touching the religion of this people which we have found, for want of
their language we could not understand neither by signs nor gesture

that they had any religion at all We suppose that they have no

religion at all, and that they live at their own libertie.' Better know
ledge of these Floridans nevertheless showed that they had a religion,
and better knowledge has reversed many another hasty assertion to the
same effect ; as when writers used to declare that the natives of Mada
gascar had no idea of a future state, and no word for soul or spirit, or
when Dampier inquired after the religion of the natives of Timor, and
was told that they had none; or when Sir Thomas Koe landed in
Saldanha Bay, on his way to the court of the Great Mogul, and
remarked of the Hottentots that ' they have left off their custom of
stealing, but know no God or religion.' Among the numerous accounts
collected by Sir John Lubbock as evidence bearing on the absence or
low development of religion among low races, some may be selected as
lying open to criticism from this point of view. Thus, the statement
that the Samoan Islanders had no religion cannot stand in the face of
the elaborate description by the Kev. G. Turner of the Samoan religion
itself; and the assertion that the Tapinombas of Brazil had no religion,
is one not to be received without some more positive proof, for the
religious doctrines and practices of the Tapi race have been recorded
by Lery, De Laet, and other writers. Even with much time and care
and knowledge of language, it is not always easy to elicit from savages
the details of their theology. They rather try to hide from the prying
and contemptuous foreigner their worship of gods who seem to shrink,

138 LESSONS FKOM NATURE. [CHAP. VI.

like their worshippers, before the white man and his mightier Deity.
And thus, even where no positive proof of religious development among
any particular tribe has reached us, we should distrust its denial by
observers whose acquaintance with the tribe in question has not been
intimate as well as kindly. Assertions of this sort are made very care
lessly. Thus, it is said of the Andaman Islanders that they have not
the rudest elements of a religious faith ; Dr. Monat states this ex
plicitly ; yet it appears that the natives did not even display to the
foreigners the rude music which they actually possessed, so that they
could scarcely have been expected to be communicative as to their
theology, if they had any. In our time, the most striking negation of
the religion of savage tribes is that published by Sir Samuel Baker, in
a paper read in 1866 before the Ethnological Society of London, as
follows : ' The most northern tribes of the White Nile are the Dinkas,
Shillooks, Nuehr, Kytch, Bohr, Aliab, and Shir. A general description
will suffice for the whole, excepting the Kytch. Without any excep
tion, they are without a belief in a supreme being, neither have they
any form of worship or idolatry ; nor is the darkness of their minds
enlightened by even a ray of superstition.' Had this distinguished
explorer spoken only of the Latukas, or of other tribes hardly known
to ethnographers except through his own intercourse with them, his
denial of any religious consciousness to them would have been at least
entitled to stand as the best procurable account, until more intimate
communication shoiild prove or disprove it. But in speaking thus of
comparatively well-known tribes, such as the Dinkas, Shillooks, and
Nuehr, Sir S. Baker ignores the existence of published evidence, such
as describes the sacrifices of the Dinkas, their belief in good and evil
spirits (adjok and djyok), their good deity and heaven-dwelling creator,
Dendid, as likewise Near, the deity of the Nuehr, and the Shillooks'
creator, who is described as visiting, like other spirits, a sacred wood
or tree, Kaufmann, Boun, Bollet, Lejean, and other observers, had thus
placed on record details of the religion of these White Nile tribes, years
before Sir Samuel Baker's rash denial that they had any religion at
all." — Primitive Culture, vol. i. p. 381.

Again, Mr. Tylor quotes, as surprisingly inconsistent,--

" Mr. Moflfat's declaration as to the Bcchuanas, that ' man's immor
tality was never heard of among that people,' he having remarked in
the sentence next before, that the word for the shades or manes of the
dead is ' liriti.' In South America, again, Don Felix de A zara com
ments on the positive falsity of the ecclesiastics' assertion that the
native tribes have a religion. He simply declares that they have none ;
nevertheless, in the course of his work he mentions such facts as that
the Payaguas bury arms and clothing with their dead, and have some
notions of a future life, and that the Guanas believe in a being who

CHAP. VI.] MAN. 139

rewards good and punishes evil. In fact, this author's reckless denial
of religion and law to the lower races of this region justifies D'Orbigny's
sharp criticism * that l this is indeed what he says of all the nations he
describes, while actually proving the contrary of his thesis by the very
facts he alleges in its support.3" — Ibid. vol. i. p. 379.

Once more, by way of showing how the real meaning of
words may escape the reporters of such expressions, Mistakes.
Mr. Tylor judiciously observes: —

" Prudent ethnographers must often doubt accounts of
such, for this reason, that the savage who declares that the
dead live no more, may merely mean to say that they are
dead. When the East African is asked what becomes of his
buried ancestors, the ' old people,' he can reply that * they
are ended/ yet at the same time he fully admits that their
ghosts survive." — Ibid. vol. ii. p. 18.

Mr. Tylor's own belief (expressed, of course, in terms
conformable to his own view of evolution) as to the religion
of the lower races, is thus declared : — f

" Genuine savage faiths do, in fact, bring to our view what
seem to be rudimentary forms of ideas which un- Savage
derlie dualistic theological schemes amonir higrher faith8'

O o O

nations. It is certain that even amongst rude savage hordes
native thought has already turned toward the deep problem
of good and evil." He thus admits an essentially and dis
tinctly ethical element into the theology of even " genuine "
savages. But our author has yet more decided views as to
the universality of religious conceptions. Concerning the
existence of savages without religion, he saysj (speaking
from his point of view as a supporter of the monistic hypo
thesis) : " Though the theoretical niche is ready and conve
nient, the actual statue to fill it is not forthcoming. The
case is, in some degree, similar to that of the tribes asserted
to exist without language or without the use of fire : nothing
in the nature of things [?] seems to forbid the possibility of

* ' L'Homme Americain,' vol. ii. p. 318.
t ' Primitive Culture,' vol. ii. p. 288.
J Ibid. vol. i. p. 378.

140 LESSONS FKOM NATURE. [CUAP. VI.

such existence, but, as a matter of fact, the tribes are not
found."

As we have said, the native Australians have much pre
tension to the post of lowest of existing races, and

Australians. ,11 .1 • T •

we often hear a great deal as to their non-religious
condition; nevertheless Mr. Tylor quotes* the Eev. W.
Eidley to the effect that " whenever he has conversed with
the Aborigines, lie found them to have quite definite tradi
tions concerning supernatural beings, as Baime, whose voice
they hear in thunder, and who made all things." Moreover this
testimony is reinforced by that of Stanbridge (;< T. Eth. Soc."
vol. i. p. 301), who is quoted as asserting that so far from the
Australians having no religion, '* they declare that Jupiter,
whom they call ' foot of day ' (Ginabong-Beary), was a chief
among the old Spirits, that ancient race who were translated
to heaven before man came on earth." But not only do we
thus meet with distinct conceptions of the supernatural where
their existence has been denied, but some of the external
manifestations of these conceptions are by no means to be
despised. Thus in a prayer used by the Khonds of Orissa
we find t the following words : " We are ignorant of what it is
good to ask for. You know what is good for us. Give it
us ! " Mr. Tylor adds : " Such are types of prayer in the
lower levels of culture !"

But the universal tendency of even the most degraded
tribes to practices which clearly show their belief in preter
natural agencies is too notorious to admit of serious discussion,
while the wide-spread, and probably all but universal, prac
tice of some kind of funereal rites speaks plainly of as wide
a notion that the dead in some sense yet live. As to the
power possessed by even the lowest races of apprehending
strictly religious conceptions, the annals of the " propagation
of the faith" prove it abundantly. The Australians, how
ever, are generally believed to be the most hopeless subjects

* ' Primitive Culture,' vol. i. p. 378.
t Ibid. vol. ii. p. 335.

CHAP. VI] MAN. 141

of missionary effort, and yet Western Australia* demonstrates
the utter groundlessness of this persuasion. It does so by
means of the flourishing community of reclaimed savages
who live under the care and supervision of the fathers of the
Benedictine Abbey situate in that region. There can be no
question but that Australians can, by such agency, be civi
lised, or that they can, as a community, be perpetuated in a
reclaimed condition, though the influx of hostile influences
may ultimately prevent the accomplishment of the benevo
lent object so pursued.

We may conclude, then, that no existing race is generally
devoid of conceptions regarding the preternatural, or entirely
unconcerned about future existence, whether their own or
that of their friends or enemies.

It remains to inquire whether any savage races may be
fairly considered as in a transitional state from a Arc the
non-religious condition, like that of beasts; or [^tmsweas
whether the religious conceptions of any race are SJT
so different in kind from our own as to render it im- hisherones?
possible for them to be the degraded remnants of former
religious beliefs of a higher character. As to the first of
these questions, it may be observed that the difference be
tween a nature capable of religious conceptions and one
not so capable is a difference of kind, and therefore " tran
sitions " are just as possible or as impossible here as in
the previously considered matters of morality and speech.
It appears to me manifest that no combinations of merely
sensible perceptions could give rise to the conception of
beings of a preternatural nature and with preternatural
powers. It is a question not of a vague fear, but of con
ceptions of beings with superhuman attributes. As to the
second question — that concerning the nature of religious
conceptions in the most distinct races — it may be safely
affirmed, on Mr. Tylor's authority, that the differences are

* See ' Memoires Historiqucs sur 1'Australie.' par Merr. Rudcsino Salvado,
1854.

142 LESSONS FKOM NATURE. [CHAP. VI.

often much more superficial and the agreements much more
profound than is very often, if not generally, supposed. The
extreme want of flexibility of so many minds is the cause
of this difficulty of perceiving how often the same essential
idea underlies external modes of representation which are very
different. The personifications of stars, rivers, clouds, &c.,
when viewed under a certain aspect, are to some tribes not only
the natural expression of their religious conceptions, but pro
bably even the nearest approach to truth now possible to them
apart from revelation. As to their conceptions Mr. Tylor
remarks : * " They rest upon a broad philosophy of nature,
early and crude indeed, but thoughtful, consistent, and
quite really and seriously meant." As to the crudity of
these modes of expressing a belief in the general action of
superhuman causation, it may be remarked that after all the
error was trifling compared with that of modern Materialists
— i.e., the modern crude conception that because the pheno
mena of nature are not produced by a human personality,
they are produced by none I Mr. Tylor himself says,f as to
the real resemblance between apparently very different reli
gious developments, "Baime, the creator, whose voice the
rude Australians hear in the rolling thunder, will sit enthroned
by the side of Olympian Zeus himself;'

We have heard much as to the notion entertained by some
barbarians J that a distinction of ranks extends into the next
world, and that the future state depends upon the social con
dition of the departed. But similar notions may exist
amongst civilised people, as was evidenced by the often -
quoted French lady of the ancien regime, who exclaimed, on
learning the death of a profligate noble, " God will think
twice before he damns a man of the marquis's quality." In
deed it may be said that a belief in the continuance after
death of the conditions of this life is at the present time
spreading widely amongst many thousands who accept the

* ' Primitive Culture,' vol. i. p. 258. t Ibid. vol. i. p. 248.

\ Ibid. vol. ii. p. 78.

CHAP. VI.] MAN.

teachings of Spiritism as a new gospel. But how often
may not the highest signification lie hidden and latent under
a term which is apparently but sensuous in its meaning ?
The loftiest terms in use amongst us even now, whether in
Science, Religion, or Philosophy, are, when ultimately ana
lysed, but sensuous symbols, such being the necessary mate
rials of our whole language ; but this by no means prevents
our attaching to such subjects very different ideas. Who,
when speaking of the spirit of Shakespeare, thinks of the
pulmonary exhalation which that term primitively denoted?
Mr. Tylor objects * to the expression, " an offering made by
fire of a sweet savour before the Lord," as being barbarous ;
but what words could have been used to express spiritual
acceptability which would not have had a primarily sensuous
meaning? Yet granted that many races have no higher
conceptions as to the preternatural than belief in demons,
dread of witchcraft, and belief in ghosts, is that any reason
why such races should not be descended from remote ances
tors with a much higher creed ? Such, indeed, does appear
to be the opinion of Sir John Lubbock, who says : t "Religion
appeals so strongly to the hopes and fears of men, it takes so
deep a hold on most minds, in its higher forms it is so great
a consolation in times of sorrow and sickness, that I can
hardly think any nation would ever abandon it altogether."
Again, in reply to the Duke of Argyll, who had objected
existing phenomena, Sir John observes : \ "If the Duke
means to say that men who are highly civilised, habitually
or frequently lose and scornfully disavow religion, I can only
say that I should adopt such an opinion with difficulty and
regret." The latter of these passages takes away any weight
which might attach to the former, for it is difficult to believe
that the passage last quoted can have been seriously meant
by its author when we reflect that he must be acquainted
with the views of Buchner, Vogt, and Strauss. It is in one

* ' Primitive Culture,' vol. ii. p. 350.
f The 'Origin of Civilisation,' p. 331.
I Ibid. p. 348.

144 LESSONS FROM NATURE. [CHAP. VI.

respect a calamity of our time and country that unbelievers,
instead of, as in France, honestly avowing their sentiments,
disguise them by studious reticence — as Mr. Darwin at first
studiously disguised * his views as to the bestiality of man,
and as the late Mr. Mill silently allowed himself to be
represented to the public as a thorough believer in God.
When we consider how energetically atheism manifested
itself recently in Paris, its passionate development in Spain
with the vigorous atheistic declarations of a late Spanish
Colonial Minister, when any one at all acquainted with the
Continent must know that it counts its enthusiastic disciples
by tens of thousands, it is surely nothing less than solemn
triflingf to speak of " difficulty" in recognising facts so patent.

We have, then, but to look about us to see how very easily
such a corruption as that supposed might have taken place,
even in nations as highly developed as our own. We have
but to imagine the emigration of a few such families, and the
extinction of religion in their progeny would be inevitable ;
and in order that a belief in ghosts and in evil spirits might
coexist with such religious ignorance, we need but suppose
some spiritists to be amongst the emigrants in question.

But a difficulty is put forward as to the rite of sacrifice.

* In a review of Haeckel in the 'Academy' of January 2, 1875, p. 16,
Professor Huxley, with a zeal for Mr. Darwin more zealous than fortunate,
objected to a less strong statement of this fact than that here given, as false
and calumnious, denying that Mr. Darwin had been " reticent about his views
respecting the origin of man." The statement objected to, however, simply
reposed upon Mr. Darwin's own express declaration (in the introduction to his
' Descent of Man') as to his own conduct and motives, and, after all, he must
have known them better than even the most eager of his disciples. His own
words are as follows : " During many years I collected notes on the origin and
descent of man, without any intention of publishing on the subject, but
rather with the determination not to publish, as I thought that I should thus
only add to the prejudices against my views." If this does not denote
deliberate and intentional " reticence," the words have no meaning.

f At p. 256 Sir John also says : — " If we consider the various aspects of
Christianity as understood by different nations, we can hardly fail to perceive
that the dignify, and therefore the truth, of their religious beliefs, is in direct
relation to the knowledge of science and of the great physical laws by which
our universe is governed." Were this true, Vogt, Buchner, Darwin, and
Strauss would exemplify the hiyliest religious belief But, in truth, what can
be more preposterous than to assert or imply that physical science has to do
with the government of the universe?

CHAP. VI.] MAN. 145

This practice is represented as having originated in the gross
notion of actually feeding the gods with flesh, or at
least in the idea of the spirit of such flesh serving
as food to the spiritual beings to whom it was offered, and not
in the modern notion of sacrifice. Mr. Tylor says :* " The
mere fact of sacrifice to deities, from the lowest to the highest
levels of culture consisting of the extent of nine-tenths or
more of gifts of food for sacred banquets, tells forcibly against
the originality of the abnegation theory." But, I ask, Why
so ? If food in the earliest period was the thing to sacrifice
which constituted the greatest self-denial easily practised,
then, on natural grounds only, we might conclude that such
a practice would arise and that the habit, being once formed,
continued and became widely diffused. But elsewhere, in
deed, he concedes a great deal, and admits f that "we do
not find it easy to analyse the impression which a gift makes
on our own feelings, and to separate the actual value of the
object from the sense of gratification in the giver's good will
or request, and thus we may well scruple to define closely
how uncultured men work out this very same distinction in
their dealings with their deities." This remark is excellent ;
and how distinctly a real and unmistakably expressed ethical
conception really accompanies such practices in some tribes
he himself shows us in another passage. In a Zulu prayer
quoted by him,J we find : "If you ask food of me which you
have given me, is it not proper that I should give it to you ?"
As he truly says: § "The Phoenicians sacrificed the dearest
children to propitiate the angry gods, &c." But, in fact,
early sacrifice contained at the least implicitly, potentially,
vaguely and in germ, all that which later became actually
developed and distinctly expressed. It is not possible for
Mr. Tylor, || or for any one else, to prove that it did not do

* ' Primitive Culture,' vol. ii. p. 360. f Hid. p. 357.

% Ibid. p. 333. § Ibid. p. 361.

|| Mr. Tyler's judgments as to ancient religion must be received with
caution, when we observe the curious and hasty remarks into which he is
occasionally betrayed as to the religion of to-day. He tells us that '; Si.
Lazarus, patron saint of lepers and their hospitals, and from whom the

146 LESSONS FROM NATURE. [CHAP. VI.

so, and that it must have done so we may judge from the
outcome which has since resulted.

We may, then, conclude that there is no evidence of the ex
istence of any race altogether devoid of religious conceptions,
or possessing religious conceptions so fundamentally different
from those existing to-day, that it is impossible to regard them
as instances of degradation. The actual non-existence of
such races may be taken as established from the failure of all
efforts to prove their existence, and from the admissions herein •
quoted. Before leaving the subject, an amusing parody of
certain recent attempts to explain almost all early history
and legend by myths of dawn and sunrise may be cited.
Mr. Tylor says,* with respect to the 'Song of Sixpence:' —
" Obviously, the four-and-twenty blackbirds are the four-
and-twenty hours, and the pie that holds them is the under
lying earth covered with the overarching sky : how true a
touch of nature it is, that when the pie is opened, that is,
when day breaks, the birds begin to sing. The king is the
sun, and his counting out his money is pouring out the sun
shine, the golden shower of Danae. The queen is the moon,
and her transparent honey the moonlight. The maid is the
rosy-fingered dawn, who rises before the sun her master, and
hangs out the clouds, his clothes, across the sky. The
particular blackbird who so tragically ends the tale by
snipping off her nose is the hour of sunrise." Mr. Tylor
similarly explains the life and death of Julius Csesar.

We may now proceed to our fourth inquiry, that concerning
second new " Progress," or the question whether, on the whole,

subject, Pro- , .-, -,

gress. progress has prevailed among savage races, or

whether they have not, in the main, degenerated ? As to
this matter, both our authors are strongly of opinion that no
extensive or predominant retrogression has taken place.
Nevertheless, certain facts stated by them, and certain

lazzarone and the lazzaretto take their name, obviously derives these qualities
from the Lazarus of the parable." Does Mr. Tylor forget the Lazarus raised
from the dead ?

* ' Primitive Culture,' vol. i. p. 287.

CHAP. VI.] MAN. 147

opinions expressed, seem to indicate at least the possibility
of a more extensive process of degeneration than they are
inclined to allow. Social progress is an exceedingly complex
phenomenon, the result of many factors ; and even existing
instances of retrogression, as in Spain, are palpable enough,
while no one probably will contest the inferiority, in many
respects, of the Greece of our day to that which listened
to the voice of Aristotle or Plato.

Mr. Tylor contrasts very favourably with the late Mr.
Buckle in his appreciation of this complexity, and in his
perception of the importance of moral as well as of intel
lectual advance, and of the absurdity of those who make
sure that every revolutionary change must be an improve
ment. He says: —

" Even granting that intellectual, moral, and political life may, on
a broad view, be seen to progress together, it is obvious that they are
far from advancing with equal steps. It may be taken as a man's rule
of duty in the world, that he shall strive to know as well as he can find
out, and do as well as he knows how. But the parting asunder of
these two great principles, that separation of intelligence from virtue
which accounts for so much of the wrongdoing of mankind, is continu
ally seen to happen in the great movements of civilisation. As one
conspicuous instance of what all history stands to prove, if we study
the early ages of Christianity, we may see men with minds pervaded
by the new religion of duty, holiness, and love, yet at the same time
actually falling away in intellectual life, thus at once vigorously grasp
ing one-half of civilisation, and contemptuously casting off the other."
— Primitive Culture, vol. i. p. 25.

This aspect of the question has an important bearing upon
the view we should take respecting the earliest families of man.
It is plain that a high moral standard might have existed
with a most rudimentary state of art and the scantiest appli
ances of material civilisation. After speaking of Mr. Alfred
Wallace and of Lieut. Bruijn Kops, Mr. Tylor says : " Ethno
graphers who seek in modern savages types of the remotely
ancient human race at large, are bound by such examples to
consider the rude life of primaeval man under favourable con
ditions to have been, in its measure, a good and happy life."

It is difficult for us, surrounded by the abundant aids

L 2

148 LESSONS FROM NATURE. [CHAP. YT.

afforded by international communication, to realise the dif
ferent effects which would probably result from an absence of
such assistance and stimulus. This difficulty is perceived by
Mr. Tylor, who remarks :* " In striking a balance between
the effects of forward and backward movements in civilisa
tion, it must be borne in mind how powerfully the diffusion
of culture acts in preserving the results of progress from the
attacks of degeneration." Therefore, at an early period,
when there was little diffusion and no intercommunication
between groups which had become isolated, degeneration
might very easily have taken place, and these isolated groups
may have become the parents of tribes now widely spread.
Indeed, our author adds, —

" Degeneration probably operates even more actively in 'the lower
than in the higher culture. Barbarous nations and savage hordes,
with their less knowledge and scantier appliances, would seem pecu
liarly exposed to degrading influences."

After giving an instance from West Africa, he continues :—

" In South-East Africa, also, a comparatively high barbaric culture,
which we especially associate with the old descriptions of the kingdom
of Monomotapa, seems to have fallen away, and the remarkable ruins
of buildings of hewn stone fitted without mortar indicate a former
civilisation above that of the native population."

But actual degradation is a fact which is directly attested,
and which the ruins of Central America demonstrate. Our
author quotes Father Charlevoix to the effect that the
Iroquois, having had their villages burnt,

" have not taken the trouble to restore them to their old condition.
.... The degradation of the Cheyenne Indians is matter of history,
and ' Lord Milton and Dr. Cheadle came upon an outlying fragment
of the Shushway race, without horses or dogs, sheltering themselves
under rude temporary slants of bark or matting, falling year by year
into lower misery.' " — Primitive Culture, vol. i. pp. 41, 42.

With respect to the question of the degradation of savage
races, Mr. Albert J. Mott, in a remarkable address (delivered
before the Literary and Philosophical Society of Liverpool

* ' Primitive Culture,' vol. i. p. 39.

CHAP. VI.] MAN. 149

on October 6th, 1873) " On the Origin of Savage Life," makes
the following highly interesting and important M,.Mott.8
remarks. Almost at the opening of his address remark8-
lie pertinently observes: "Questions concerning the origin
of mankind have become either the radiating or the culmi
nating points in most branches of science." And this is
indeed most true.

One of the facts the significance of which he insists most
strongly on, is the existence of remarkable \vorks of art in
Easter Island. He says : —

"Easter Island stands alone in the Pacific Ocean, two thousand
miles from South America, and about one thousand from the nearest
islands that are habitable. It is about twelve miles long by four in
width ; not so large as Jersey. The inhabitants, about a thousand in
number, are savages. They are, of course, entirely isolated, and the
island is seldom visited by ships. It is volcanic, and the soil fertile,
but it could not maintain a population of ten thousand souls without
the aid of civilisation or foreign intercourse. Probably the natives
have never reached half that number in their present condition of life.

" This island is strewed with hundreds of carved stone images, many
of them of extraordinary size. Some are nearly forty feet long. Many
are over fifteen feet. Two of the smaller ones are in the British
Museum. One of these is eight feet high, and weighs four tons.
Many of these images have had separate stone crowns placed upon their
heads, the crowns being from two to ten feet across. Thirty of these
crowns were found on the hill from the rock of which they were sculp
tured, waiting to be removed. The images were generally set on
pedestals, upon raised terraces, of which there are many. The terraces
are about a hundred yards long, ten yards wide, and on one side — they
stand on slopes — seven or eight yards high. They are built of large
stones, some of them six feet long. There are also remains of numerous
low stone houses and other structures in the island. The present
inhabitants know nothing about the origin of these things." *

" Similar terraces and images have been seen in other islands now
uninhabited. The ruins of ancient stone buildings of great extent are
found in the Philippine Islands, the Ladrones, the Marshall and Gilbert
groups ; the Society Islands, the Navigators, and the Marquesas. They
thus extend over ten thousand miles of ocean."

These facts he cites as unmistakable evidences of the

* Palmer: Journal Royal Geographical Society, January 1870. 'Proceedings
of the Royal Geographical Society,' vol. xiv. p. 108.

150 LESSONS FKOM NATUKE. [CHAP. VI.

existence of a very ancient ami far-spread higher culture, of
which they now constitute the only traces in the spots where
they are found.

Again he observes : —

" The whole of North America, from the Gulf of Mexico to Canada,
is full of ancient works of earth and stone, chiefly found in the form
of mounds and embankments. They exist in countless thousands, and
I believe in every State ; but the most remarkable are in the great
plain or valley between the Alleghanies and the Eocky Mountains, a
district at least a thousand miles square. Some lines of embankment
are thirty feet high. Many areas inclosed by them are from one to two
hundred acres ; some are double this size. One group of works con
tains twenty miles of embankment. One of the mounds is one thousand
feet in circumference, and seventy feet high. Another is two thousand
feet round the base, and ninety feet high ; a truncated pyramid, with a
flat top of several acres. Many of the inclosures are in the form of
circles and squares, and in many cases these figures are mathematically
exact, notwithstanding their great size. In one of these exact squares
each side is a thousand and eighty feet long, and the area inclosed
twenty-seven acres. In one of the exact circles the diameter is seven
teen hundred feet, the area forty acres. The precision of these figures
has been ascertained by mathematical survey. The ellipse, also exact,
is found in other cases."

Now, as he truly says : —

" Neither a true circle, with a radius of eight hundred and fifty feet,
nor a true square, with a side of one thousand and eighty feet, can be
drawn upon open ground by any one without the help of exact
measures and mathematical knowledge."

He proceeds : —

" A numerous people spread over a wide empire must have had easy
means of internal communication. We see, accordingly, from the
objects found in the mounds, that they possessed copper in abundance,
which came, doubtless, from the shores of Lake Superior, where the
ancient mines have been rediscovered; obsidian, which is not found
nearer than Mexico ; mica, probably from South Carolina ; pearls, and
marine shells. And among the sculptured objects from Ohio are exact
representations of the Toucan, which belongs to tropical South America,
and the Manatee, found on the coast of Florida.
~ " The objects of the greatest interest are the sculptured stone tobacco
pipes; the oldest known tobacco pipes in the world, most of which
were found in the same mound in Ohio.

" These pipes are unique in form, and are carved out of hard

CHAP. VI.] MAN. 151

ornamental stone, in which their bowls are hollowed and their tubes
drilled with perfect skill, and the bowls themselves are sculptured into
the forms of birds, animals, and human heads, in a manner quite
unapproachable by any but civilised races. It is necessary to see these
pipes to appreciate the force of their silent testimony, and in the
Salisbury Museum, where they are seen in contrast with the works of
the present Indians and other savage tribes, the evidence is at once
conclusive. They are works of art of a high order ; true to nature and
exquisite in finish. They are the products of taste, leisure, and refine
ment in a cultivated and prosperous nation."

And yet, as he justly remarks : —

"The North American Indians, when the continent first became
known to us, were typical savages in every way. They were neither
the lowest nor the highest, nor were they all alike ; but if the modern
theory is true, they were in one of those stages of development through
which all civilised nations must have passed on their way to something
higher. Yet these Indians, instead of springing from some lower state
like that of the Australians, are proved to be the successors of a people
in every respect mucli higher than themselves. They are proved also to
be their descendants as well as their successors, because one at least of
the most striking customs of the ancient race has been inherited, and
because it is impossible to suppose that so numerous and cultivated a
people could themselves become extinct, or that they could be extermi
nated by any immigrant tribes in the condition of the Indians. These
savages, therefore, have reached their present state by degradation,
and not by progress. Their rude arts are not their own invention, but
are derived from higher art, become barbarous in their hands. No
single custom found amongst them can be identified as of savage origin,
for their former customs were of course those of their more civilised
ancestors, and it is these as altered by barbarism that we find among
them now.

" But if this is the case over an entire continent, what becomes of the
idea that savage life in general is an example of arrested progress, and
not an example of retrogression ? "

In deprecation of hasty conclusions to the effect that the
use of hieroglyphic signs is an indication of relative barbarism,
he observes : —

" But if the letters MAN stand thus for the word expressing the
idea of man, independently of their separate phonetic force, they have
no advantage over any other symbol conveying the same meaning.
Nay, they are at a certain disadvantage, because the idea of man is the
same thing to every one, while the uttered sound expressing the idea is

152 LESSONS FKOM NATUKE. [CHAP. VI.

not so. An Englishman who calls a man a " mon " might be puzzled
by the written word composed of letters. He could not be puzzled by
a symbol which was independent of determinate sound.

" An alphabet is a grand instrument, and its powers have been
wonderfully exercised, but it may well be doubted whether the language
of thought cannot be even better expressed by symbols of some other
kind ; and it must, I think, be certain that this will depend largely on
the structure of the spoken language, and the forms of thought which
have become habitual. Those astronomical and other symbols which
Mr. Tylor regards as survivals of the rudest form of writing are
nevertheless retained and multiplied by the deliberate choice of modern
science, for the double reason that they abbreviate the record, and that
they can be universally understood, whatever the spoken language of
the reader may be."

Another remark is important, as it puts forcibly before us
the hasty conclusions in favour of barbarism so often found.
He says : —

" Nor does subsequent ignorance prove that knowledge has not been
possessed before. Of this the discoveries concerning ancient art con
tinually bring fresh evidence. The glass from Assyria and the bronzes
cast upon cores of iron are striking examples. The latter is especially
important. It shows that the use of iron was well understood by the
Assyrians, and that the use of bronze in ancient times was the result
of choice, and not of ignorance. We might, I think, have safely
assumed this on general grounds, and might thus have avoided much
misleading speculation concerning a bronze age. Archaeologists take
for granted far too readily that if anything valued by ourselves was not
used in former times, it cannot have been known, withoiit considering
what reasons besides mere want of knowledge may have led to its
neglect."

******

" We pick up a sunburnt brick, and treat it as a proof of ignorance
in the makers. It may, on the contrary, be the evidence of a most wise
economy, which utilised the sun's heat where it was sufficient for the
purpose, and where artificial heat could only be applied at too great a
cost. The makers of sunburnt bricks in Assyria and Egypt certainly
understood the use of fire as well as we do, and it may be well for us
if we can turn the solar rays to equally good account."

He adds : —

" And finally, our knowledge of the extent to which iron has been used
in the past, and of the circumstances under which the art of working
it may have been lost in various localities, is so limited by the perish-

CHAP. VI.] MAN. 153

able nature of the metal that it is never safe to form positive opinions
about it from merely negative evidence. This has been forcibly illus
trated by the discoveries of ancient iron- work in Assyria, and again by
the great iron column found in Delhi, apparently the work of the
fourth century, a cast of which has just been placed in the South
Kensington Museum. This column is a solid shaft of wrought iron,
more than fifty feet long, and about eighteen inches in diameter. No
other piece of iron- work at all like it has been found in the east ; and
two things are made clear by its discovery. It shows that the manu
facture of iron in large masses was practised in India at least two
thousand years ago ; for the art could not be in its infancy when this
column was made ; and it also shows that the old iron- work has dis
appeared, leaving no tradition of its former state. Nothing of any
considerable size in iron has been made in India in recent times."
******

" Observe, too, the special feature in America. Its civilisation once
lost was never recovered till help came from without, in the shape of
European intercourse and colonisation. To be isolated is plainly to
lose the power of recovery, and we may well believe, from the example
of Australia and equatorial Africa, that the longer the isolation the
more profound will be the decay."

Mr. Herbert Spencer himself makes the following note
worthy admissions. He says of savages : — * Mr. Herbert

Spencer's.

" Probably most of them, if not all of tlem, had ancestors in higher
states ; and among their beliefs remain some which were evolved during
those higher states. While the degradation theory, as currently held,
is untenable, the theory of progression, taken in its unqualified form,
seems to me untenable also. If, on the one hand, the notion that
savagery is caused by lapse from civilisation, is irreconcilable with the
evidence ; there is, on the other hand, inadequate warrant for the notion
that the lowest savagery has always been as low as it is now. It is
quite possible, and, I believe, highly probable, that retrogression has
been as frequent as progression."

He also adds : — f

" That supplanting of race by race, and thrusting into corners such
inferior races as are not exterminated, which is now going on so
actively, and which has been going on from the earliest recorded times,
must have been ever going on. And the implication is that remnants
of inferior races, taking refuge in inclement, barren, or otherwise unfit
regions, have retrograded."

' Principles of Sociology,' vol. i. p. 10b'. f Ot,. dt. p. 109.

154 LESSONS FROM NATUEE. [CHAP. VI.

It may well be asked, why then does Mr. Spencer, in the
teeth of evidence, believe in the primitive and original
bestiality of man? He does so simply in consequence of
the exigences of the theory he adopt?, but we, who are bound
in the fetters of no such theory, are at liberty to appreciate
facts at whatever may be their just value. Mr. Spencer's
admissions are, however, extremely important.

Mr. Darwin also admits :* " The problem of the first
Mr Dar. advance of savages towards civilisation is at pre-
win's- sent much too difficult to be solved." He also

adds :t " Many nations, no doubt, have fallen away in civili
sation," though he doubts their falling into utter bar
barism. Finally he says 4 "The inhabitants of Tierra del
Fue«-o, the Cape of Good Hope, and Tasmania, in the one
hemisphere, and of the Arctic regions in the other, must
have passed through many climates and changed their habits
many times." One may well ask, why then may they not
have degenerated?

Thus we may be certain that some savages have been
Degradation degraded from a higher level, and this certainty
certain. establishes an a priori probability that all have
been so. Such degradation would not, however, be incon
sistent with the existence of a considerable amount of pro
gress in some places side by side with a wider degradation.
The New Zealanders show evidence of a possible degrada
tion through changed conditions, as they doubtless at one
time inhabited a warmer clime. They show§ this by their
use of the well-known Polynesian word "niu" (cocoa-nut) for
different kinds of divination, thus keeping " up a trace of
the time when their ancestors in the tropical islands had
them, and divined by them."

How soon the use even of stone implements may be for-
aotten is proved by Erman in KamskatkaJ who got there
a fluted prism of obsidian; '' but though one would have

* 'Descent of Man.' vol. i. p. 167. t Op. cit. p. 181.

J Op. cit. p. 136. § ' Primitive Culture,' vol. i. p. 73.

I! ' Researches into the Early History of Mankind,' p. 207.

CHAP. VI.] MAN. 155

thought that the comparatively recent use of stone instru
ments in the country would have been still fresh in the
memory of the people, the natives who dug it up had no idea
what it was." Again : " The Fuegians* have for centuries used
a higher method " of making fire than have the Patagonians.
This habit looks very much like the survival of a higher
culture as to such practice in the midst of a wide-spread
degeneracy. Such an explanation is strengthened by the
following remark f about the Fuegians : " This art of striking
fire instead of laboriously producing it with the drill, is not,
indeed, the only thing in which the culture of this race
stands above that of their northern neighbours," their canoes
also being of superior quality. Mr. Tylor thinks that the
South Australians may have learnt their art of making
polished instruments of green jade from " some Malay or
Polynesian source," instead of its having survived the wreck
of a higher culture1, as the fire-making art of the Fuegians
has probably done. But such acquisition is a mere possi
bility, and experience shows us how often such arts are not
learnt even when we know for certain that the opportunity of
learning them has been offered. Thus our author remarks,!
that the North Americans never learnt the art of metal
work, &c., from the Europeans of the tenth century. That
the belief in a persistence of social conditions after death,
before referred to, may be a degradation, is shown by the
spread of modern " spiritism," which has widely propagated
that belief amongst people whose ancestral creed taught a
very different doctrine.

A curious proof of degradation of one kind or another is
exemplified by the ceremonial purifications practised by the
Kafirs. Respecting such Mr. Tylor remarks :§ " It is to be
noticed that these ceremonial practices have come to mean
something distinct from mere cleanliness. Kafirs who will
purify themselves from ceremonial uncleanness by washing,

* ' Researches into the Early History of Mankind,' pp. 245, 246.
t Ibid. p. 259. | Ibid. p. 205.

§ 'Primitive Culture,' vol. ii. p. 393.

156 LESSONS FEOM NATURE. [CHAP. VI.

are not in the habit of washing themselves or their vessels
for ordinary purposes, and the dogs and the cockroaches
divide between them the duty of cleaning out the milk-
baskets." Therefore here one of two things must be con
ceded. We have either a case of degradation and degenera
tion from earlier cleanliness, or else there must have been
an original spiritual meaning in certain primitive washings
pointing to a higher religious condition than that at pre
sent existing amongst those who practise the ceremonies in
question. Again, the legend of the World Tortoise* may be
but a degradation, and have meant, as Mr. Tylor suggests,
to express the hemispherical heavens overarching the flat
expanded plain of earth.

Sir John Lubbock presents to us data which, in fact, alto
speak of degradation in a more northern part of Africa,
namely, amongst the Christians of Abyssinia. He quotes t
Bruce as saying that there is " no such thing as marriage in
Abyssinia, unless that which is contracted by mutual consent,
without other form, subsisting only till dissolved by dissent
of one or other, and to be renewed or repeated as often as it
is agreeable to both parties, who, when they please, live toge
ther again as man and wife, after having been divorced, had
children by others, or whether they have been married, or had
children with others or not. I remember to have once been
at Koscam in presence of the Iteghe (the queen), when, in
the circle, there was a woman of great quality, and seven men
who had all been her husbands, none of whom was the happy
spouse at that time." I Sir John significantly couples with
this quotation another to the effect that, for all this, " there
is no country in the world where there are so many churches."§
Now when Christianity was first accepted by these Christians
their practice must have been very different ; and, therefore?
we have here an unquestionable case of Christian degeneracy
parallel with but carried further than the analogous religious

* ' Researches into the Early History of Mankind,' p. 333.

t ' The Origin of Civilisation,' p. 57.

I ' Brucc's Travels,' vol. iv. p. 487. § Ibid. vol. v. p. 1.

CHAP. VI.] MAN. 157

degeneracy of Portugal and its transatlantic offspring Brazil
— a degeneracy manifestly due to the jealousy felt by those
States of the controlling action of the Head of the church
and consequent tendency to schism. In all these cases, then,
more or less religious isolation has been the prelude to
degeneracy.

There is, then, much reason to think that degeneracy may
have been both great in degree and widespread in its effects,
so as to account by degradation for the existing states of all
the various tribes of savages which discovery has made known
to us. But the maintenance of this position, it may be re
marked by-the-way, is by no means necessary to justify the
religious belief of even the most orthodox Christians. Ortho
doxy does not by any means necessarily conflict with such views
as those put forward by Messrs. Tylor and Lubbock. All traces
now, or to be hereafter, discovered of ancient man, may indi
cate ascent and progress, and all existing savages may be
ascending from still lower levels, and yet the first man may, not
withstanding, have been all that theology asserts that he was.
Nay more, his progeny may none the less have preserved for
a considerable period a high degree of direct, simple, moral
elevation in an nge of stone, and yet have been the ancestors
of races who fell below the level of any savages now ex
isting on the earth. In theology Adam stands in a
category of his own, and was actually all that it
became him as man to be, having the full and perfect use
of reason in the first moment of his existence. But it is
impossible to argue from Adam even to his immediate
descendants, as the difference between their states is a differ
ence not of degree but of kind. According to the strictest
theology, part even of Adam's knowledge was acquired, not
infused, and, therefore, took time and depended upon the
occurrence of opportunities. His descendants were ms descend-
naturally in a state of mere ignorance, to be re- ants'
moved only by education either byway of what is technically
called disciplina or else by inventio. Now as regards their
degenerate descendants, the Homines sylvatici, these wero,

158 LESSONS FROM NATURE. [CHAP. VI.

by the hypothesis, in a position which deprived them of the
first of these influences, and circumstances might well have
rendered their power of inventio inoperative and practically
futile. Thus some might have remained stationary, or have
continued to retrograde till discovered by civilised man, while
others more favourably circumstanced might have again spon
taneously advanced by their own inventio and been found by
discoverers in a positively ascending and improving condition.
Nothing, therefore, which ethnology or archa3ology can de
monstrate can conflict with Christian doctrine, since the ques
tion concerning the mental condition of Adam is one utterly
beyond the reach of any physical science, while any facts
which science can prove concerning Homo sylvaticus will be
welcomed by theologians as tending to throw light upon
the condition of his descendants, respecting which question
there is complete freedom of opinion.

It is physical science, not theology, which inclines me to
assign a greater scope to degeneration than that assigned to
it by the authors herein referred to. As has been said, in
stances of degeneration are before our eyes to-day in Europe,
and even the periodical literature of our own country is con
tinually giving vent to opinions (such, above all, as those of
the Agnostics), which have but to spread predominantly to
render our degradation certain.

France of the Regency and Pagan Rome long ago demon
strated how easily the most profound moral corruption can
co-exist with the most varied appliances of a complex civili
sation. The peasants of the Tyrol, on the other hand, serve
equally well to demonstrate how pure and lofty a morality,
and how really refined a mental civilisation may co-exist
with very great simplicity in the adjuncts and instruments of
social life. We have but to develop this idea somewhat
further to see a family of the stone age, clothed in a few
skins, ignorant of the sciences, and innocent of all but the
rudest art, yet possessed of a moral integrity but very ex
ceptionally present amidst the population of the greatest
cities of modern days.

CHAP. VI.] MAN. 159

But instances are easily to be found of the co-existence of
moral excellence accompanied by the rudest con- Rude people

^ may be

dition of life with respect to the mere appliances mo™i.
of physical well-being. Mr. Tylor tells * us that the wild
Veddahs of Ceylon, though extremely barbarous as to their
dwellings, clothing, and use of the fire drill, " are most
truthful and honest," and " their monogamy and conjugal
fidelity contrast strongly with the opposite habits of the
more civilised Singhalese." Sir John Lubbock has collected
the following particulars respecting the social state of the
Esquimaux, a people so peculiarly interesting to us in this
inquiry because by some deemed to be the last survivors of
an ancient miocene race : —

" Captain Parry gives us the following pictures of an Esquimaux
hut. ' In the few opportunities we had of putting their hospitality to
the test we had every reason to be pleased with them. Both as to food
and accommodation, the best they had were always at our service ; and
their attention, both in kind and degree, was everything that hospitality
and even good breeding could dictate. The kindly offices of drying
and mending our clothes, cooking our provisions, and thawing snow
for our drink, were performed by the women with an obliging cheer
fulness which we shall not easily forget, and which demanded its due
share of our admiration and esteem. While thus their guest I have
passed an evening not only with comfort, but with extreme gratifica
tion ; for with the women working and singing, their husbands quietly
mending their lines, the children playing before the door and the pot
boiling over the blaze of a cheerful lamp, one might well forget for the
time that an Esquimaux hut was the scene of this domestic comfort
and tranquillity ; and I can safely affirm, with Cartwright, that, while
thus lodged beneath their roof, I know no people whom I would more
confidently trust, as respects either my person or my property, than
the Esquimaux.' Dr. Eae,f who had ample means of judging, tells us
that ' the Eastern Esquimaux are sober, steady, and faithful, . . . pro
vident of their own property and careful of that of others when under
their charge. . . . Socially they are lively, cheerful, and chatty people,
fond of associating with each other and with strangers, with whom
they soon become on friendly terms, if kindly treated. ... In their
domestic relations they are exemplary. The man is an obedient son,
a good husband, and a kind father. . . . The children when young are

* ' Primitive Culture,' vol. i. p. 45.
t 'Trans. Eth. Soc. 1866,' p. 138.

1HO LESSONS FROM NATURE. [CHAP. VI.

docile. . . . The girls have their dolls, in making dresses and shoes
for which they amuse and employ themselves. The boys have minia
ture bows, arrows, and spears ..... When grown up they are dutiful
to their parents. . . . Orphan children are readily adopted and well
cared for until they are able to provide for themselves.' He concludes
by saying : ' The more I saw of the Esquimaux the higher was the
opinion I formed of them.' " — The Origin of Civilisation, p. 343.

The quotations just given bring us directly to the explicit
Thw new consideration of our fifth inquiry, the answer to
ofm" which has been already so much anticipated — that,
namely, respecting the existence of a community
of nature amongst all the most diverse races of mankind.
Here again we must carefully bear in mind the inaccuracy
and the tendency to exaggeration so common with travellers,
as well as their liability to be intentionally deceived. Thus
Mr. Oldfield showed to some New Hollanders a drawing of
one of their own people, which they asserted to be intended
to represent not a man but a ship or a kangaroo, or other
very different object. Of this story Sir John Lubbock
shrewdly remarks : * "It is not, however, quite clear to me
that they were not poking fun at Mr. Oldfield." A similar
explanation is probably available in some other cases also.
The absence of certain arts or customs in a given area at a
given early period, by no means necessarily implies that they
had not previously existed. The necessity of caution is
shown by the following remark f of Sir John Lubbock con
cerning the pictorial art : " It is somewhat remarkable that
while even in the Stone period we find very fair drawings
of animals, yet in the latest part of the Stone age,
and throughout that of Bronze, they are almost entirely
wanting, and the ornamentation is confined to various com
binations of straight and curved lines and geometrical pat
terns." In the two preceding pages the same author relates
to us different curious modes of salutation ; but all such
curious customs prove the essential similarity and rationality

* ' Prehistoric Times,' p. 428.

t ' The Origin of Civilisation,' p. 25.

CHAP. VI. J MAX. Ifil

of man, and form no approximation to a biutal condition, in
which " salutation " is unknown. Sir John Lubbock gives *
the following as an instance of remarkable superstition:
"The natives near Sydney made it an invariable rule never
to whistle when beneath a particular cliff, because on one
occasion a rock fell from it and crushed some natives who
were whistling underneath it." It is not clear, however,
that this was not rather a case of prudence, which many
Europeans would be inclined to imitate. Sir John Lubbock
also quotes with approval from Mr. Sproat the opinion that
the difference between the savage and the cultivated mind
is merely between the more or less aroused condition of the
one and the same mind. The quotation is made | in reference
to the Ahts of North- Western America : " The native mind,
to an educated man, seems generally to be asleep; and, if
you suddenly ask a novel question, you have to repeat it
while the mind of the savage is awakening, and to speak
with emphasis until he has quite got your meaning."

The low arithmetical power possessed by many tribes has
been much spoken of; but, in fact, what 'is really remark
able is, that this power, however low, really exists in all. If
any tribe could be found without the conception -'number"
at all, and therefore unable to count two, that would indeed
show the existence of an essential diversity ; but no one has
ventured to assert that such a tribe has been discovered.
Those who have examined the remains of our own ancestors
of the Bronze period — their elaborate ornaments, their cere
monial weapons — can hardly have avoided arriving at the
conclusion that the difference between them and the Eng
lishmen of to-day can have been but trifling in the extreme.
An absurdly exaggerated idea of the special importance of
our own social condition and of the value of the merely
material appliances of civilisation can alone induce an oppo
site conclusion. It is an analogous superficiality which also
tends to break down the barrier between man aud brute by

* 'The Origin of Civilisation,' p. 188. t Ibid. p. 5.

M

162 LESSONS FROM NATURE. [CHAP. VI.

what Mr. Herbert Spencer calls "inverted anthropomor
phism ;" and with respect to which some good remarks* are
made by Mr. Tylor, who tells us : —

" Uncivilised man deliberately assigns to apes an amount of human
quality which to modern naturalists is simply ridiculous. Every one
has heard the story of the negroes declaring that apes can speak, but
judiciously hold their tongues lest they should be made to work ; but
it is not generally known that that is found as serious matter of belief in
several distant regions — West Africa, Madagascar, South America, &c.
— where monkeys or apes are found. . . . On the other hand, popular
opinion has under-estimated the man as much as it has over-estimated
the monkey. We know how sailors and emigrants can look on savages
as senseless, ape-like brutes, and how some writers on anthropology
have contrived to make out of the moderate intellectual difference
between an Englishman and a negro something equivalent to the
immense interval between a negro and a gorilla. Thus we can have no
difficulty in understanding how savages may seem mere apes to the
eyes of men who hunt them like wild beasts in the forests, who can
only hear in their language a sort of irrational gurgling and barking,
and who fail totally to appreciate the real culture which better
acquaintance always shows among the rudest tribes of man."

Again, he adds : — f

" The sense of an absolute psychical distinction between man and
beast, so prevalent in the civilised world, is hardly to be found among
the lower races."

Thus the view, so popular to-day, as to the community of
nature between man and brutes is really a reversion towards
savage thought. As to man, considered without reference to
lower animals, Mr. Tylor declares himself very decidedly in
favour of the substantial community of nature existing in the
most divergent human races. He pronounces $ as follows :
" The state of things amongst the lower tribes which presents
itself to the student, is a substantial similarity in knowledge,
arts and customs, running through the whole world. Not
that the whole culture of all tribes is alike — far from it ; but
if any art or custom belonging to a low tribe is selected at
random, it is twenty to one that something substantially like

* 'Primitive Culture,' pp. 342, 343. t Op. cit. vol. i. p. 423.

% 'Researches into the Early History of M.mkind,' p. 1G9.

CHAP. VI.] MAN. 163

it may be found in at least one place thousands of miles off,
though it very frequently happens that there are large por
tions of the earth's surface lying between, where it has not
been observed. Indeed there are few things in cookery,
clothing, arms, vessels, boots, ornaments, found in one place,
that cannot be matched more or less nearly somewhere else."
Kespecting the alleged ignorance of fire in some races, he
observes : * "It is likely that the American explorers may
have misinterpreted the surprise of the natives at seeing
cigars smoked, and fire produced from flint and steel, as well
as the eating of raw fish, and the absence of signs of cooking
in the dwellings." Wilkes, in the ' Narrative of the United
States' Exploring Expedition' (1838-42), has given "igno
rance of fire" as an interpretation of such observed pheno
mena ; and yet, as Mr. Tylor remarks, :< curiously enough,
within the very work particulars are given which show that
fire was in reality a familiar tiling in the island !" It is
probable that the same error has occurred in other instances.

The last-named author even thinks f that the Fijians have
themselves invented an eating fork, and he reminds us | how
our practices of stopping teeth with gold and dressing fish en
papillotte have been anticipated by the ancient Egyptians on
one hand, and by the Australians (with bark for paper) on
the other.

But it would be difficult to cite stronger testimony than
that given by Mr. Tylor to the community of nature in dif
ferent races under the most diverse physical conditions,
judging from unity of products, gesture, language, customs,
&c., although § " We might reasonably expect that men of
like minds, when placed under widely different circumstances
of country, climate, vegetable and animal life, and so forth,
should develop very various phenomena of civilisation."

Although Mr. Tylor ventures " to judge in a rough way
of an early condition of man, which from our" [hi«] " point of

* Op. cit. p. 231. f Op. cit. p. 175.

J Op. cit. p. 173. § Op. cit. p. 3G2.

M 2

164 LESSONS FROM NATURE. [CHAP. VI.

view is to be regarded as a primitive condition, whatever yet
earlier state may in reality have lain behind it," he fully
admits that, as far as research carries us, the same human
characteristics come again and again before us on every hand.
He concludes with the following emphatic tribute to the
essential unity of man in all ages, all climes, and all con
ditions : —

" The historian and the ethnographer must be called upon to show
the hereditary standing of each opinion and practice, and their inquiry
must go back as far as antiquity or savagery can show a vestige, for
there seems no human thought so primitive as to have lost its bearing
on our own thought, nor so ancient as to have broken its connection
with our own life."

With these declarations we may well rest contented, and
conclude — from the absence of opposing evidence, as well
as from such admissions on the part of a witness whose bias
is in an opposite direction — that one common fundamental
human nature is present in all the tribes and races of men
(however contrasted in external appearance) which are
scattered over the whole surface of the habitable globe.
We are now in a position to draw our conclusions from
the foregoing data, and state the results which the
' teaching of Mr. Tylor and Sir John Lubbock seem
to force upon us. The works referred to and quoted have
been, as we said, selected for citation because their authors
are not only most justly esteemed for their information and
capability, not only because they are representative men in
ethnology and archaeology, but also because their bias is
favourable to the monistic view of evolution, and their evi
dences, and admissions made by them which tell against
that view, can be more safely relied on. We have considered
facts brought forward by one or other of them, and judg
ments expressed on those facts with regard to speech, mo
rality, religion, progress, and community of nature in the
most diverse tribes of mankind, with a view of discovering
(1) whether any evidence can be adduced of man's existence
in a brutal or irrational condition ; (2) whether the evidence

CHAP. VI.] MAN. 165

points in the direction of such a condition in the past; and
(3) whether any men now exist less remote from beasts than
from the highest individuals of mankind. We have found,
as regards language, not only an essential agreement amongst
all men, but that even the dumb prove by their gestures
that they are possessed of the really important part of the
faculty (the verlum mentals), though accidentally deprived
of the power of giving it verbal expression (the verbum
oris). As to Morals, we have found that not only are all
races possessed of moral perception, but even that their
fundamental moral principles are not in contradiction with
our own.

Concerning Religion, we have seen that religious concep
tions appear to exist universally amongst all races of man
kind, though often curiously aborted or distorted, and often
tending to extreme degradation after periods during which
a higher level had been maintained. Kespecting Community
of Nature, we have been able to quote from Mr. Tylor asser
tions of the most unequivocal character. Finally, as to Pro
gress, we have found cause to believe that "Retrogression " may
have been much greater and more extensive than our authors
are disposed to admit ; but that however that may be, and
even if their views on this subject are correct, as to existing
races, such views, if established, would not constitute one iota
of proof that the Christian doctrines as to man, his origin
and nature, are erroneous.

From the absence of any positive proof as to a brutal con
dition of mankind, and from the absence of even any tran
sitional stage, a presumption, at the least, arises that no such
transition ever took place. This absence, also (there being
at the same time so much positive evidence of essential
community of nature amongst all men), clearly throws the
onus probandi on those who assert the fact of such transition
in the past. At the least they must show that the asserted
transition is not only possible but also probable ; and both
demonstrations, I am confident, are beyond their power.

It seems, then, that in the sciences we are considering,

166 LESSONS FROM NATURE. [CiiAr. VI.

namely, ethnology and archaeology, the most recent re
searches of the most trustworthy investigators show that the
expectations of the supporters of the dualistic hypothesis are
fulfilled, while those of the favourers of the monistic view
are disappointed.

The final result therefore is that ethnology and archae
ology, though incapable of deciding as to the possibility of
applying the monistic view of evolution to man, yet, as far
as they go, oppose that application. Thus the study of man
past and present, by the last-mentioned sciences, when used
as a test of the adequacy of the THEORY OF EVOLUTION,
tends to show (though the ultimate decision, of course, rests
with philosophy) that it is inadequate, and that another
factor must be introduced of which it declines to take any
account — the action, namely, of a DIVINE MIND as the direct
and immediate originator and cause of the existence of its
created image, the mind of man.

Such being the result of the inquiry we have undertaken,
the assertors of man's dignity are clearly under no slight
obligations to Sir John Lubbcck and Mr. Tylor for their
patient, candid, and laborious toil. But if such is the case
with regard to these writers, how much greater must be the
obligation due to that author who has so profoundly in
fluenced them, and whose suggestive writings have produced
so great an effect on nineteenth-century Biology.

A deep debt of gratitude will indeed be one day due to
Mr. Darwin — one difficult to over-estimate. This sentiment,
however, will be mainly due to him for the indirect result
of his labours. It will be due to him for his having, in feet,
become the occasion of the reductio ad absurdum of that
system which he set out to maintain — namely, the origin of
man by natural selection, and the sufficiency of mechanical
causes to account for the harmony, variety, beauty, and
sweetness of that teeming world of life, of which man is the
observer, historian, and master.

But the study of savage life has taught us much.

Our poor obscurely thinking, roughly speaking, childishly

CHAP. VI.] MAN. 167

acting, impulsive cousin of the wilds, the Homo sylvaticus, is
not a useless tenant of his woods and plains, his rocks and
rivers. His humble testimony is of the highest value in
supporting the claims of his most civilised brothers to a
higher than a merely brutal origin.

The religion of Abraham and Chrysostom, the intellect
of Aristotle and Newton, the art of Raphael, of Shakespeare,
of Mozart, have their claims to be no mere bestial develop
ments, supported by that testimony. Through it these
faculties are plainly seen to be different in kind from com
plex entanglements of merely animal instincts and sensible
impressions. The claims of man, as we know him at his
noblest, to be of a fundamentally different nature from the
beasts which perish, become reinforced and reinvigorated in
our eyes, when we find the very same moral, intellectual,
and artistic nature (though disguised, obscured, and often
profoundly misunderstood) present even in the rude, uncul
tured soul of the lowest of our race, the poor savage — Homo
sylvaticus.

Having considered that which is the really essential ques
tion — man's intellectual nature — we may now pass Man>g ^
on to the subordinate question concerning pecu
liarities of man's bodily frame, and the value and significa
tion of the resemblances presented by it to the various
structures which are found to exist in lower members of the
animal kingdom.

Mr. Darwin treats us to a very interesting account, not
only of man's anatomy, but also of the habits, diseases, and
parasites (internal and external) of man, together with the
process of his development. He points out (vol. i. p. 11)
not only the close similarity even of cerebral structure
between man and apes, but also how the same animals
are " liable to many of the same diseases as we are ; thus
Eengger, who carefully observed for a long time the Cebus
Azarse in its native land, found it liable to catarrh, with
the usual symptoms, and which, when often recurrent,
led to consumption. These monkeys suffered also from

168 LESSONS FROM NATURE. [CHAP. VI.

apoplexy, inflammation of the bowels, and cataract in the
eye. The younger ones, when shedding their milk-teeth,
often died from fever. Medicines produced the same effect
on them as on us. Many kinds of monkeys have a strong
taste for tea, coffee, and spirituous liquors ; they will also, as
I have myself seen, smoke tobacco with pleasure." He also
tells us of baboons which, after taking too much beer, "on
the following morning were very cross and dismal, held their
aching heads with both hands, and wore • a most pitiable
expression : when beer or wine was offered them they turned
away with disgust, but relished the juice of lemons." He
also notices the process of development in man, with the
transitory resemblances it exhibits to the immature con
ditions of other animals, and he mentions certain muscular
abnormalities.

As to the process of development : —

" Man is developed from au ovule, about the 125th of an inch in
His embry- diameter, which differs in no respect from the ovules of other
on ic develop- animals. The embryo itself, at a very early period, can
hardly be distinguished from that of other members of the
vertebrate kingdom. At this period the arteries run in arch-like
branches, as if to carry the blood to branchiae, which are not present
in the higher vertebrata, though the slits on the sides of the neck
still remain marking their former position. At a somewhat later
period, when the extremities are developed, the feet of lizards and
mammals, wings and feet of birds, no less than the hands and feet of
man, all arise from the same fundamental form."

Amongst other points he adds : —

" The heart first exists as a simple pulsating vessel ; the excreta are
voided through a cloacal passage ; and the os coccyx projects like a
true tail, extending considerably beyond the rudimentary legs." — Vol i
p. 16.

Again, as to more or less useless parts which represent
important structures in lower animals, he says : —

" Rudiments of various muscles have been observed in many parts
of the human body; and not a few muscles, which are regularly
present in some of the lower animals, can occasionally be detected in
man in a greatly reduced condition. Every one must have noticed the

CHAP. VI.] MAN. 169

power which many animals, especially horses, possess of moving or
twitching the skin; and this is effected by the panniculus carnosus.
Eemnants of this muscle in an efficient state are found in various parts
of our bodies ; for: instance, on the forehead, by which the eyebrows
are raised. The platysma myoides, which is well developed on the neck,
belongs to this system, but cannot voluntarily be brought into action.
Professor Turner, of Edinburgh, has occasionally detected, as he
informs me, muscular fasciculi in five different situations, namely, in
the axillae, near the scapulas, &c., all of which must be referred to the
system of the panniculus. He has also shown that the musculws
sternalis or 'ste- mlis brutorum, which is not an extension of the rectus
abdominalis, but is closely allied to the panniculus, occurred in the
proportion of about 3 per cent, in upwards of 600 bodies." — Vol. i.
p. 19.

Mr. Darwin brings forward, amongst other things, an
observation of Mr. Woollier, the sculptor, as to a small pro
jection of the helix or outermost fold of the human ear,
which projection, Mr. Darwin says, " we may safely con
clude" to be "a vestige of formerly pointed ears — which
occasionally reappears in man" (vol. i. p. 23). Very many
other interesting points are noted which it would be super
fluous here to recapitulate.

It would be superfluous because, however anatomically
interesting, they are really beside the question. Super.
They may, indeed, and they probably will produce M^D^WUI'S
a considerable effect on readers who are not anato- thSe^u^"
mists, but in fact the whole and sole result is to jecm-
show that man is an animal. That he is such is denied by
no one, but has been taught and accepted since the time
of Aristotle. I remember on one occasion meeting at a
dinner-table a clever medical man of materialistic views.
He strongly impressed the minds of some laymen present
by an elaborate statement of the mental phenomena follow
ing upon different injuries, or abnormal or diseased conditions
of different parts of the brain, until one of the number re
marked as a climax, " Yes ; and when the brain is entirely
removed, the mental phenomena cease altogether" — the
previous observations having only brought out vividly what
no one denied, viz., that during this life a certain integrity

170 LESSONS FROM NATUEE. [CHAP. VI.

of bodily structure is requisite for the due exercise of tlie
mental powers. Thus Mr. Darwin's remarks are merely an
elaborate statement of what all admit— namely, that man is
an animal, coupled with a sort of implied assertion that
he is no more, and that the mode of origin of his visible
being must be the mode of his origin as a whole— a conclusion
of which I should not question the legitimacy if I could
accept Mr. Darwin's views of man's mental powers.

But, once more, it is conceded on all hands that man is
Necessary an animal, though a rational one. Let us then
dmoi^of011" assume, for argument's sake, that he was suddenly
£ittyaM and miraculously created. How far do any of the
to structure. ^^s Rg ^ j^ structure or development from the
embryonic condition conflict with such a view ? What, from
such an origin, ought we to expect ?

If man, that is, if a rational animal, was to be created at
all, he must have been made more or less like some other
animal; and for the exercise of rationality in a corporeal
frame he must have had a body capable of expressing the
unspoken word of thought (the verlum mentale) by con
venient external signs of the requisite multitudinous variety.
Moreover, since in a rational animal the exercise of the
intellect must depend on sensations prodigious in number
and most complexly associated, such an animal must pos
sess a voluminous nervous system, with the most complex
inter-relations between its different parts.

Man, then, could hardly have been made a member of any
of the invertebrate classes. For similar reasons, we may fairly
conclude that he could not have been made a member of the
cold-blooded division of the vertebrata — reptiles and fishes;
nor, considering the restricted utility of birds' pectoral limbs
(their wings), could his intellectual activity have been fittingly
housed within the body of any kind of bird. We are reduced,
then, to the class mammalia as the only one affording a type
of animal structure available to minister to a reflective, self-
conscious nature. Amongst mammals, the whole group of
marine forms (whales, porpoises, seals) and that of hoofed beasts

CHAP. VI. j MAN. 171

may be similarly excluded, as also those in which the cerebral
structure is of manifest inferiority. There remains, then,
only the carnivorous, or flesh-eating brutes (lions, bears,
wolves, &c.) to compete with the order of apes and lemurs
for the dignity of furnishing the type of the animal rationale.
The manifest superiority for such a purpose of the latter
group over the carnivora must be manifest to any one who
considers the subject. Then we are landed at once in the
order Primates.

But which forms of that order might we expect the rational
animal to resemble ? Surely not those which by their small
cerebral development as well as by a variety of other charac
ters manifest their close affinity to groups which we have
found reason to reject. One almost necessary character for
the animal in question, namely, an upright posture, to set one
pair of limbs free to minister to the teeming brain, at once
determines that he shall resemble those apes which approxi
mate towards a vertical attitude ; in other words, that he shall
resemble what we call an anthropoid ape. But Man's resem-

. i blunce to

though man does resemble such anthropoid apes apes.
more closely than such apes resemble the lowest forms of the
order, and though his zoological rank is merely that of a
family, nevertheless he does not predominantly resemble any
one of them. Thus some of the lower apes resemble man
more than they do the anthropoid ones in the length of the
arm and hand compared with that of the spine ; while in the
length of the leg without the foot, compared with that of the
arm without the hand, he is equalled only by certain lemurs.
The baboons (the lowest of the group of apes of that family
which stands next to man) exceed all the higher apes in
resemblance to man, in the sigmoid curvature of the spine ;
in the angle formed by the sacrum with the spine ; in the con
cavity of the visceral surface of the sacrum ; in the convexity
of the bones of the nose ; in the development of the styloid
process ; in the transverse breadth of the pelvis compared
with its depth ; in the greater descent of the inner condyle
of the thigh-bone ; in the length of the foot compared with

172 LESSONS FEOM NATUEE. [CHAP. VI.

that of the backbone, and in the angle formed by the axis of
the cranium with the axis of the face.

Some or other even of the monkeys of the New World
resemble man more than the monkeys of the Old World
(which in general are more like him) in the following cha
racters :— (1) No ischial callosities ; (2) no cheek-pouches ;
(3) copious beard and whiskers (Sal-is) ; (4) hair of arms di
rected as in man ; (5) cranium more rounded ; (6) cranium
higher; (7) face relatively smaller; (8) foramen magnum
situate more forwardly ; (9) the length of the thumb com
pared with that of the hand (Marmosets) ; (10) the length of
the thigh-bone compared with that of the backbone (spider-
monkeys) ; (11) the greater descent of the inner condyle of
the femur (spider-monkeys); (12) the length of the shin-
bone compared with that of the femur (spider-monkeys) ;
(13) the length of the hallux compared with that of the
spine (Sakis) ; (14) the presence of the bridging convolu
tions (spider-monkeys); (15) the very overlapping cerebrum
(squirrel-monkeys) ; (16) the oblique ridge on the upper
grinders (howling monkeys).

The half-apes (Lemwoidea) differ, as before said, from both
man and true apes in points so numerous and so significant
that there can be no question as to their great inferiority
and the vast chasm which exists between the two sub-orders.

Nevertheless, we find amongst the half-apes certain cha
racters which resemble those of man more than do most,
sometimes even more than do any, of the characters exhibited
by the true apes.

Thus the typical lemurs and the indris have a more com
pletely opposable and better-developed thumb than any ape.
In the slender loris we find an absence of the extra-inter
locking processes (metapophyses and anapophyses) of the
backbone, the spinous processes of which do not converge
(fore and aft) towards a central point ; the pisiform bone of
the wrist is smaller than in any ape ; the proportion borne
by the thumb to the hand in length is more human, as is the
form assumed by the ischium, and the relative size of the

CHAP. VI.] MAN. 173

foot compared with the leg. In the Indrisinss and in Lepi-
lemur we find but eight carpal bones (a character found in
no other Primates pave man, the chimpanzee and the go
rilla), and the most human proportional length of both the
thumb and the index finger compared with the length of the
spine. We also find in the short-tailed indris the length of
the femur compared with that of the haunch-bone most
human, as also the length of the foot compared with that of
the hand, and the near approach made by the length of the
"great toe" to the actually longest toe of the foot. In the
typical genus Lemur we find the proportion (in length) of
thigh-bone to the upper arm-bone most human, as well as
that of the longest toe to the backbone.

In the slow lemur (Nycticebus), the length of the shin-bone
bears a relation to that of the thigh-bone more human than
in any other species below man ; while in other kinds of
half-apes we meet with a development of the anterior inferior
spinous process of the ilium more like that of man than we
find in any ape ; also upper grinding teeth furnished with
an " oblique ridge " as in man, and sometimes an almost
equality of vertical development in the teeth, and even an
absence of any interspace between them or diastema.

Having noted some of the structural resemblances and
differences presented by the different forms of Primates, we
may now consider and appraise their value, as bearing upon
the question of the " origin of species," and especially upon
the asserted " descent of man " from some " non-human" ape
ancestor. The question, that is, as to man's body ; for as to
the totality of his nature no mere anatomical examinations
\sill enable us to decide — that is the task of psychology and
philosophy generally.

In the first place, it is manifest that man, the apes, and the
half-apes cannot be arranged in a single ascending series, of
which man is the term and culmination.

We may, indeed, by selecting one organ or one set of parts,
and confining our attention to it, arrange the different forms
in a more or less simple manner. But if all the organs be

J.7-1 LESSONS FROM NATURE. [CHAP. VI.

taken into account, the cross relations and Intel-dependencies
become in the highest degree complex and difficult to
unravel.

This has been more or less generally recognised ; but it
has been distinctly put forward by Mr. Darwin, and \\ideJy
accepted, that the resemblances between man and apes are
such that man may be conceived to have descended from
some ancient members of the broad-breastboned group of
apes, and the gorilla is still popularly credited with the
closest relationship to him which is to be found in all existing
apes.

As to the latter opinion, evidence has elsewhere been
adduced* to show that it is quite untenable.

As to Mr. Darwin's proposition, much remains to be said.
But it is certainly true that, on the whole, the anatomical
characters of man's body have much more resemblance to
those common to the latisternal group than to those presented
by any other section of the order Primates.

But, in the first place, we should consider what evidence of
common origin does community of structure afford ?

The human structural characters are shared by so many
and such diverse forms, that it is impossible to arrange even
groups of genera in a single ascending series from the
aye-aye to man (to say nothing of so arranging the several
single genera), if all the structural resemblances are taken
into account.

On any conceivable hypothesis there are many similar
structures, each of which must be deemed to have been inde
pendently evolved in more than one instance.

If the number of wrist-bones be deemed a special mark of
affinity between the gorilla, chimpanzee, and man, why are
we not to consider it also a special mark of affinity between
the indris and man ? That it should be so considered, how
ever, would be deemed an absurdity by every evolutionist.

If the proportions of the arms speak in favour of the chirn-

Sce 'Man and Apes:' Hardwicke, 1873.

CHAP. VI.] MAN. 175

panzee, why do not the proportions of the legs serve to
promote the rank of the gibbons ?

If the *' bridging convolutions " of the orang go to sustain
its claim to supremacy, they also go far to sustain a similar
claim on the part of the long-tailed, thumbless spider-
monkeys.

If the obliquely-ridged teeth of Simia and Troglodytes point
to community of origin, how can we deny a similar commu
nity of origin, as thus estimated, to the howling monkeys and
galagos ?

The liver of the gibbons proclaims them almost human ;
that of the gorilla declares him comparatively brutal.

The ear-lobule of the gorilla makes him our cousin ; but
his tongue is eloquent in his own dispraise.

The slender loris, from amidst the half-apes, can put in
many a claim to be our shadow refracted, as it were, through
a lemurine prism.

The lower American apes meet us with what seems " the
front of Jove himself," compared with the gigantic, but low
browed denizens of tropical Western Africa.

In fact, in the words of the illustrious Dutch naturalists,
Messrs. Schroeder, Van der Kolk, and Vrolik, the lines of
affinity existing between different Primates construct rather
a network than a ladder.

It is indeed a tangled web, the meshes of which no natu
ralist has as yet unravelled by the aid of natural selection.
Nay, more, these complex affinities form such, a net for the
use of the teleological retiarius as it will be difficult for his
Lucretian antagonist to evade, even with the countless turns
and doublings of Darwinian evolutions.

But it may be replied, the spontaneous and independent
appearance of these similar structures is due to " atavism "
and " reversion " — to the reappearance, that is, in modern
descendants, of ancient and sometimes long-lost structural
characters, which formerly existed in more or less remote
hypothetical ancestors.

Let us see to what this reply brings us. If it is true, and

176 LESSONS FEOM NATURE. [CHAP. VI.

if man and the orang are diverging descendants of a creature
with certain cerebral characters, then that remote ancestor
must also have had the wrist of the chimpanzee, the voice of
a long-armed ape, the blade-bone of the gorilla, the chin of
the siamang, the skull-dome of an American ape, the iscLium
of a slender loris, the whiskers and beard of a saki, the liver
and stomach of the gibbons, and the number of other cha
racters in which the various several forms of higher or lower
Primates respectively approximate to man.

But to assert this is as much as to say that low down in the
scale of Primates was an ancestral form so like man that it
might well be called an homunculus ; and we have the virtual
pre-existence of man's body supposed, in order to account
for the actual first appearance of that body as we know it
— a supposition manifestly absurd if put forward as an
explanation.

The question, however, regarding development may be
Astode- thought by some to be more important and sig
nificant than adult structure. But here again we
have but to look facts boldly in the face and fearlessly to
consider the possibilities of the case. The body of each man
born, must, to resemble an animal at all, originate by a germ
and embryo of some kind. For this is the law not only
of all animals but even of all plants also.*

Now let us suppose that the embryo of man, instead of
taking that course of development which is the law of the
class to which he belongs, assumed at once the miniature
form and proportions of the adult body. Would this be any
proof of miraculous origin, or that man's original appearance
was due to another operation than in the case of other
animals? Certainly not, for it would be easy for the
naturalist to point to many of the lower animals in which
such a direct building up of the adult form takes place.

But it is surely natural and congruous that if an animal
of the class mammalia was to be formed and endowed with

* We arc not here considering the question of spontaneous generation.

CHAP. VI.] MAN. 177

reason, such a being should be made to conform to the
universal laws of its class, and that not only in the adult
condition of the body but also in its mode of attaining to
that adult condition.

Similarly as regards disease, effects of stimulants, nar
cotics, &c., the facts given by Mr. Darwin are simply the
consequences of the minute structure and conditions of the
tissues and a similarity in animal nature and constitution.
If man could freely imbibe prussic acid without harm result
ing to his frame, or could receive with impunity the venom
of the rattlesnake, he would have rather the mere appear
ance only of an animal instead of having the nature of one
in all its fulness and reality. All the more or less curious
facts cited by Mr. Darwin follow necessarily from this prin
ciple, calculated as they may be to strike at first the imagi
nation of the unreflecting.

All that can be said to be established by our author is,
that if the various kinds of lower animals have been evolved
one from the other by a process of natural generation or
evolution, that then it becomes highly probable a priori
that man's body has been similarly evolved; but this, in
such a case, becomes equally probable from the admitted
fact that he is an animal at all.

It, however, only amounts to an a priori probability, and
might be reconciled with another mode of orio-in if „

i ,Y> • Bearing of

there were sufficient evidence (of another kind") in thesema«era

•1UU/ 1L1 on man's

support oi such other mode of origin. Mr. Darwin origin-
says:— "It is only our natural prejudice, and that arro
gance which made our forefathers declare that they were
descended from demigods, which leads us to demur to this
conclusion " (vol. i. p. 32). But this is not the case ; for
many demur to his conclusion because they believe that to
accept his view would be to contradict other truths which
to them are far more evident.

He also makes the startling assertion that to take any
other view than his as to man's origin, "is to admit that our
own structure and that of all the animals around us, is a

N

178 LESSONS FEOM NATURE. [CHAP. VI.

mere snare laid to entrap our judgment" (vol. i. p. 32).
Mr. Darwin is, I am quite sure, far enough from pretend
ing that he has exhausted the possibilities of the case; and
yet could anything but a conviction that the whole field had
been explored exhaustively, justify such an assertion? If,
without such a conviction, it was permissible so to dogma
tise, every theoriser who had attained to a plausible expla
nation of a set of phenomena might equally make use of
the assertion, and say, until a better explanation was found,
that to doubt him would be to attribute duplicity to the

Almighty.

Some of the instances that Mr. Darwin gives of reversion
Mistakes to Brutal ancestry are quite gratuitous. Of the
to reversion. occasi0nal double uterus of the human female he
says : —

" In other and rarer cases, two distinct uterine cavities are formed,
each having its proper orifice and passage. No such stage is passed
through during the ordinary development of the embryo, and it is
difficult to believe, though perhaps not impossible, that the two simple,
minute, primitive tubes could know how (if such an expression may be
used) to grow into two distinct uteri, each with a well-constructed
orifice and passage, and each furnished with numerous muscles,
nerves, glands and vessels, if they had not formerly passed through a
similar' course of development, as in the case of existing marsupials.
No one will pretend that so perfect a structure as the abnormal double
uterus in woman could be the result of mere chance. But the principle
of reversion, by which long -lost dormant structures are called back
into existence, might serve as the guide for the full development of the
organ, even after the lapse of an enormous interval of time."— Vol. i.
page 123.

But if this were really a reversion to marsupial structure,
we ought surely more often to meet with reversion to the
characters of animals much less removed in time (on Mr.
Darwin's theory) than are the Marsupialia. We ought, that
is to meet with, for example, a long tail, or a prehensile
hallux or tusk-like canine teeth, or a completely hairy back,
far more often than we do a completely double uterus. Yet
such is by no means the case. As to the fancy concerning
the inability of an organ to form itself de novo, Mr. Darwin

CHAP. VI.] MAN. 179

may be refuted from his own notes on the very next page,
where we read that he was at first similarly disposed to
attribute the development of abnormal, erratic mammarv
glands (breasts placed in unusual parts of the body) to
reversion, but from observations of Professor Preyer as to
the appearance of such structures on the lack leads our
author to candidly admit that his "argument is greatly
weakened or perhaps quite destroyed."

The same power which could produce so complex a struc
ture as a mammary gland, in a situation which showed that
it was not due to reversion, could also produce the con
ditions of a completely divided and double uterus.

In attempting to trace man's origin Mr. Darwin has even
been betrayed into slight inaccuracies. Thus, in other mis-
combating the position, advanced in the ' Quar- takes-
terly Review,'* that the hands of apes had been preformed
(with a view to man) in a condition of perfection beyond
their needs, he says : —

" On the contrary, I sec no reason to doubt that a more perfectly
constructed hand would have been an advantage to them, provided
and it is important to note this, that their hands had not thus been
rendered less well adapted for climbing trees. We may suspect that a
perfect hand would have been disadvantageous for climbing; as the
most arboreal monkeys in the world, namely, Ateles in America and
Hylobates in Asia, either have their thumbs much reduced in size and
even rudimentary, or their fingers partially coherent, so that their
hands are converted into grasping-hooks." — Vol. i. p. 140.

In a note, Mr. Darwin refers to the Sindactyle Gibbon as
having two of the digits coherent. But these digits are not,
as he supposes, digits of the hand but toes. Moreover,
though doubtless the Gibbon and spider-monkeys are ad
mirably organised for their needs, yet it is plain that a
well-developed thumb is no impediment to climbing, for
the strictly arboreal Lemurs are exceedingly well furnished
in this respect.

We shall see later \ that Mr. Darwin tries to account for

* See ' Quarterly Keview,' April 1869, p. 392.
t See infra the chapter on sexual selection.

N 2

180 LESSONS FROM NATUEE. [CHAP. VI.

man's hairlessness by the help of "sexual selection." He
also, however, speculates as to the possibility of his having
lost it through heat of climate, saying :— " Elephants and
rhinoceroses are almost hairless; and as certain extinct
species which formerly lived under an arctic climate were
covered with long wool or hair, it would almost appear as
if the existing species of both genera had lost their hairy
covering from exposure to heat" (vol. i. p. 148).

This affords us a good example of hasty and inconclusive
speculation. Surely it would be quite as rational to suppose
that the arctic species had gained their coats as that the
tropical species had lost theirs. But hasty conclusions are
but too frequent in Mr. Darwin's speculations as to man's
genealogy — which he calls his " descent" though " ascent "
would be a far more appropriate term.

In fact, Mr. Darwin's power of reasoning seems to be
in an inverse ratio to his power of observation. On the
whole, we are convinced that, by his ' Descent of Man/ the
cause of " Natural Selection " has been rather injured than
promoted ; and I must confess to a feeling of surprise that
the case put before us is not stronger, since we had anticipated
some telling and significant facts from Mr. Darwin's biolo
gical treasure-house.

A great part of the work may be dismissed as beside the
point — as a mere elaborate and profuse statement of the
obvious fact, which no one denies, that man is an animal,
and has all the essential properties of a highly organised
one. Along with this truth, however, we find the assump
tion that he is no more than an animal — an assumption
which is necessarily implied in Mr. Darwin's distinct asser
tion that there is no difference of kind, but merely one of
degree, between man's mental faculties and those of brutes.

I have endeavoured to show that this is distinctly untrue ;
that not only we are not compelled, but that it is our
duty, not to abandon the received position that man is an
animal indeed, but the only rational one known to us, and
that this is a distinction in kind, and fundamental. The

CHAP. VI.] MAN. 181

estimate I have formed of man's position differs therefore
most widely from that of Mr. Darwin.

Mr. Darwin says :* " We must admit that there is a much
wider interval in mental power between one of the lowest
fishes, as a lamprey or a lancelet, and one of the higher apes,
than between an ape and man ; yet this immense interval is
filled up by numberless gradations." This I cannot admit,
since I believe the assertion to be absolutely false. In
rny view the " immense interval " is between the ape and,
the man.

Mr. Darwin supports his view by the analogy of certain
insects which, though zoologically allied, differ Mr. Darwin's

, . , -, , ., , remarks as to

enormously in the development oi their instincts, inaeots.
He says : —

" Some naturalists, from being deeply impressed with the mental
and spiritual power of man, have divided the whole organic world
into three kingdoms, the Human, the Animal, and the Vegetable, thus
giving to man a separate kingdom. Spiritual powers cannot be com
pared or classed by the naturalist ; but he may endeavour to show, as
I have done, that the mental faculties of man and the lower animals
do not differ in kind, althoiigh immensely in degree.. A difference in
degree, however great, does not justify us in placing man in a distinct
kingdom, as will perhaps be best illustrated by comparing the mental
powers of two insects, namely, a coccus or scale insect and an ant,
which undoubtedly belong to the same class. The difference is here
greater, though of a somewhat different kind, than that between man
and the highest mammal. The female coccus, whilst young, attaches
itself by its proboscis to a plant ; sucks the sap but never moves
again ; is fertilised and lays eggs ; and this is its whole history. On
the other hand, ants communicate information to each other, and
several unite for the same work, or games of play. They recognize
their fellow-ants after months of absence. They build great edifices,
keep them clean, close the doors in the evening, and post sentries.
They make roads and even tunnels under rivers. They collect food
for the community, and when an object, too large for entrance, is
brought to the nest, they enlarge the door, and afterwards build it up
again. They go out to battle in regular bands, and freely sacrifice
their lives for the common weal. They emigrate in accordance with
a preconcerted plan. They capture slaves. They keep aphides as

* ' Descent of Man,* vol. i. p. 35,

182 LESSONS FKOM NATUEE. [CHAP. VI.

milch cows. They move the eggs of their aphides, as well as their
own eggs and cocoons, into warm parts of the nest, in order that they
may be quickly hatched; and endless similar facts could be given.
On the whole, the difference in mental power between an ant and a
coccus is immense ; yet no one has ever dreamed of placing them in
distinct classes, much less in distinct kingdoms. No doubt this
interval is bridged over by the intermediate mental powers of many
other insects ; and this is not the case with man and the higher apes.
But we have every reason to believe that breaks in the series are
simply the result of many forms having become extinct."

I have extracted the whole of this passage because it states
in the strongest manner what Mr. Darwin considers the most
telling points in his favour, while it exhibits as clearly his
misapprehensions as to the true significance of man's mental
powers.

In the first place the zoological classification universally
adopted is a morphological classification. That is to say it
is a classification based upon form and structure — upon the
number and shape of the several parts of animals, and not
at all upon what those parts do, the consideration of which
belongs to physiology. This being the case we not only
may, but should, in the field of zoology, neglect all questions
of diversities of instinct or mental power, equally with every
other power, as is evidenced by the location of the bat and
the porpoise in the same class, mammalia and the parrot and
the tortoise in the same larger group, Sauropsida.

Looking, therefore, at man with regard to his bodily struc
ture, we not only may, but should, reckon him as a member
of the class mammalia, and even (we believe) consider him
as the representative of a mere family of the first order of
that class. But all men are not zoologists ; and even
zoologists must, outside their science, consider man in his
totality and not merely from the point of view of anatomy.

If then I am right in my assertion that man's mental
faculties are different in kind from those of brutes ; and if he
is, as we maintain, the only rational animal, then is man, as
a whole, to be spoken of by preference from the point of view
of his anirnality, or from the point of view of his rationality ?

CHAP. VI.] MAN. 183

Surely from the latter, and, if so, we must consider not
structure, but action.

Now in the last quoted passage Mr. Darwin seems to con
cede that a difference in kind would justify the placing of
man in a distinct kingdom, inasmuch as he says a difference
in degree does not so justify ; and we have no hesitation in
affirming (with Mr. Darwin) that between the instinctive
powers of the coccus and the ant there is but a difference
of degree, and that, therefore, they do belong to the same
kingdom, but we contend it is quite otherwise with man.

Mr. Darwin, doubtless, admits that all the wonderful ac
tions of ants are mere modifications of instinct. But if it
were not so — if the piercing of tunnels beneath rivers, &c.,
were evidence of their possession of reason, then far from
agreeing with Mr. Darwin, we should say that ants also are
rational animals, and that, while considered from the ana
tomical stand-point they would be insects, from that of their
rationality they would rank together with men in a kingdom
apart of " rational animals." Really, however, there is no
tittle of evidence that ants possess the reflective, self-con
scious, deliberate faculty; while the perfection of their in
stincts is a most powerful argument against the need of
attributing a rudiment of rationality to any brute whatever.

Thus, then, we seem to have Mr. Darwin on our side when
we affirm that animals possessed of mental faculties Man forms a

kingdom by

distinct in kind should be placed in a kingdom himself.
apart. And man possesses such a distinction.

Is this, however, all that can be said for the dignity of
his position? Is he merely one division of the visible
universe co-ordinate with the animal, vegetable, and mineral
kingdoms ?

It would be so if he was intelligent and no more. If he
could observe the facts of his own existence, investigate the
co-existences and successions of phenomena, but all the time
remain like the other parts of the visible universe a mere
floating unit in the stream of time, incapable of one act of
free self-determination or one voluntary moral aspiration after

184 LESSONS FROM NATURE. [CHAP. VI.

an ideal of absolute goodness. But this is not so. Man is not
merely an intellectual animal, but he is a free moral agent,
and, as such — and with the infinite future such freedom opens
out before him — differs from all the rest of the visible universe
by a distinction so profound that no one of those which separate
other visible beings is comparable with it. The gulf which
lies between his being as a whole, and that of the highest
brute, marks off vastly more than a mere kingdom of material
beings, and man, so considered, differs far more from an
elephant or a gorilla than do these from the dust of the earth
on which they tread.

Thus, then, in our judgment the author of the ' Descent of
Man ' has utterly failed in the only part of his work which
is really important. Mr. Darwin's errors are mainly due to
a radically false metaphysical system in -which he seems (like
so many other physicists) to have become entangled. With
out a sound philosophical basis, however, no satisfactory
scientific superstructure can ever be reared; and if Mr.
Darwin's failure should lead to an increase of philosophic
culture on the part of physicists, we may therein find some
consolation for the injurious effects which his work is likely
to produce on too many of our half-educated classes.

There is another question concerning the various races of
umty of man about which only a few words can now be said,
human races. jrortuiiately but few words need be said, since there
is much unanimity on the subject between thinkers of very
diverse views as to man's origin.

This question is whether the races of man form but one
species. Upon this subject the verdicts of evolutionists of
the school of Darwin and Huxley are not doubtful. Mr.
Darwin says * as to the instability of racial characters :
" it may be doubted whether any character can be named
which is distinctive of a race and is constant/' Again, as to
the origin of the existing races from a single pair, he admits f
that " with our domestic animals a new race can readily be

* 'Descent of Man,' vol. i. p. 225. f Op. cit. p. 235.

CHAP. VI.] MAN. 185

formed from a single pair." Those men of science who
believe that all animals whatever sprang but from a few
separate stocks can hardly dispute the singleness of man's
origin. Those, on the other hand, who share my views as to
the frequently independent origin of different structures may
dispute it. The arguments however here advanced in favour
of man's unity of nature lend support to the unity of his origin.
That original man should have been of a lighter colour than
the existing darkest races, and without woolly hair, is indi
cated (at least on evolutionary principles) by the facts of de
velopment in such races. Mr. Darwin tells us * " the new
born negro child is reddish nut-brown, which soon becomes
slaty-gray." ..." The eyes of the negro are at first blue,
and the hair chestnut-brown rather than black, being curled
only at the ends."

As to the origin of variations in colour, we may, as Mr.
Darwin says,t " well reflect " . . . " on the remarkable
changes of colour in the plumage of parrots," fed on special
food or inoculated with toad poison, "for we can thus see
that the fluids of the system, if altered for some special
purpose, might induce other strange changes."

In the present state of science, and especially in that of
the controversy as to specific origin, it would be a work of
supererogation to insist upon the probability, almost amount
ing to certainty, of the common origin of the whole human
race. The question may at least be left until such time as
good evidence may be forthcoming of the sterility inter se
of the descendants of cross-breeds between two widely
distinct families of mankind.

But what should be our final verdict as to the main ques
tion here considered — that of the origin of man? wtatshaii
We have seen that no arguments adduced by any Beta's tJf

•• Till' man's origin.

of the writers quoted suffice to make probable ins

origin from speechless, irrational, non-moral brutes. But

there is evidence to be adduced from high authority directly

* ' Descent of Man,' vol. ii. p. 318. t Op. tit. p. 152.

186 LESSONS FROM NATURE. [CHAP. VI.

on the other side. No less a writer than Mr. Wallace, the
independent originator and by far the best expounder of the
theory of natural selection, differs widely from Mr. Darwin as
to the question of man's origin. He contends* that some
Mr. Wai- special agency was needed to produce the human
frame. He specially adverts to the peculiar disposi
tion of the hair on man, especially that nakedness of the back
which is common to all races of men, and to the peculiar con
struction of the foot and hand. He tells us, " the hand of
man contains latent capacities and powers which are unused
by savages, and must have been even less used by paleolithic
man and his still ruder predecessors. It has all the appear
ance of an organ prepared for the use of civilised man, and
one which was required to render civilisation possible."
Again, speaking of the " wonderful power, range, flexibility,
and sweetness of the musical sounds producible by the
human larynx," he adds, " The habits of savages give no in
dication of how this faculty could have been developed" . . .
" the singing of savages is a more or less monotonous howl
ing, and the females seldom sing at all." ..." It seems as if
the organ had been prepared in anticipation of the future
progress of man, since it contains latent capacities which are
useless to him in his earlier condition."

But, indeed, as to this subject, even Mr. Darwin himself
admits :f That "neither the enjoyment nor the capacity of
producing musical notes are faculties of the least direct use
to man in reference to his ordinary habits of life, they. must
be ranked amongst the most mysterious with which he is
endowed."

Mr. Wallace also agrees with us concerning the value he
attaches to man's " capacity to form ideal conceptions of space
and time, of eternity and infinity — the capacity for intense
artistic feelings of pleasure, in form, colour, and composition
— and those abstract notions of form and number which

* ' Natural Selection,' pp. 332-360.
f ' Descent of Man,' vol. ii. p. 333.

CHAP. VI.] MAN. 187

render geometry and arithmetic possible," as also respecting
the non-bestial origin of moral perception.*

Yet more, he considers man as not only placed " apart,
as the head and culminating point of the grand series of
organic nature, but as in some degree a new and distinct
order of being." . . . " When the first rude spear was formed
to assist in the chase ; when fire was first used to cook his
food ; when the first seed was sown or shoot planted, a grand
revolution was effected in nature, a revolution which in all
the previous ages of the earth's history has had no parallel,
for a being had arisen who was no longer necessarily subject
to change with the changing universe, a being who was in
some degree superior to nature, inasmuch as he knew how to
control and regulate her action, and could keep himself in
harmony with her, not by a change in body, but by an advance
in mind."

It remains to say a few words respecting the results of our
perception of our own moral freedom on the Free-wm.
question of our origin.

Mr. Darwin naturally makes no attempt to account for the
origin of man's free-will (perhaps the most wonderful quality
he possesses) ; and I am confident that it is fundamentally
impossible to explain this power of ours without granting
what is fatal to his hypothesis of man's essential bestiality.
On this subject I may, with advantage, quote some remarks
by Mr. Eichard Holt Hutton :— f

" Here seems the right point to note, that neither the scientific prin
ciple of what is called the ' correlation of forces/ nor the Darwinian
law of selection, seems to throw the smallest glimpse of light on the
origin of human free-will, and that sense of responsibility of which
free-will is the absolute condition. As for the Darwinian law, it is
simply inconceivable, supposing you deny free-will to the lower types
of organic beings, out of which, on his conception, the higher species
are gradually elaborated by natural selection, that an accidental varia
tion should introduce free-will It is inconceivable that any

law of transmission should introduce an element of freedom which was

* ' Natural Selection,' pp. 351, 352.
t ' Essays,' vol. i. pp. 64-67.

188 LESSONS FllOM NATUKE. [CHAP. VI.

entirely absent from the universe before. All that is supposed to vary
in the qualities derived from ancestors is the proportion in which they
are mingled, and, so to say, the mode of application to the universe
outside. But that a necessary being should give birth to a being with
any amount, however limited, of moral freedom is infinitely less con
ceivable than that parents of the insect or fish type should give birth
to a perfect mammal. An accidental variation only means a variation
of which you cannot determine the direction ; but you can determine
that the direction of variation will not outrage all the laws of pa
rentage If all the lower laws of force and life arc absolutely

fixed and inviolable, then they cannot revoke their own constitution
when they issue out of the region of physiology into that of moral life.
If it be the essence of all things to follow fixed laws, if there is nothing
but unchangeable force moulding the universe by its gradually con
centrating strength, then the conscience of man is a delusion, and his

sense of responsibility and freedom must be explained away

The logic of science is consistent, but it does not explain freedom.
We know that we are morally free ; and we know that a free person
cannot be the issue of helplessly unfolded laws. It is impossible for
necessity to emancipate itself. Only if the observed necessity has been
the ' must ' of a Divine free-will, can that ' must ' be withdrawn, and
freedom restored wherever the materials for self-determination have
been granted. The identity of all the sciences is assumed only at the
expense of the falsification of some, and the total abrogation of one.
The main facts of man's moral nature — all those on which the great
interests of mankind centre, all which are the life of reverence and
love — are swept away into meaningless unreality by the absolute
identification of moral science with the natural sciences on the summit
of which it stands. It is dangerous enough to scientific reality to
confuse intelligence with instinct and to describe memory as ' a weak
form ' of perception ; but it is the suicide of a science to manufacture a
theory of moral obligation out of the materials of physical necessity —
a theory of vision for the blind."

Indeed, man being, as the mind of each man may tell him,
a being not only conscious, but conscious of his own con
sciousness ; one not only acting on inference, but capable of
analysing the process of inference ; a creature not only capable
of acting well or ill, but of understanding the ideas " virtue" and
" moral obligation," with their correlatives freedom of choice
and responsibility — man being all this, it is at once obvious
that the principal part of his being is his mental power.

" In nature there is nothing great but man,
In man there is nothing great but mind.'1

CHAP. VI.] MAN. 189

Nevertheless, man's body must be fairly compared with the
bodies of other species of animals more or less like him, and
his corporeal affinities thus estimated.

Let us suppose ourselves, then, to be without bodies our
selves, to be purely immaterial intelligences, acquainted only
with a world peopled like our own except that the species
man had never lived upon it, yet that somehow the dead
body of a man was presented for our examination.

We should then, I think, consider such body to be that of
some large ape, and of one differing less widely from the apes
most like it in form than do such apes differ from others,
e.g., from marmosets. Yet we should note some striking
specialities of structure. We should be especially struck
with its vast brain, and we should be the more impressed by
it when we noted how bulky was the body to which that
brain belonged. We should be so impressed because we
should have previously noted that, as a general rule, in back
boned animals, the larger the bulk of the body the less the
relative size of the brain. From our knowledge of the habits
and faculties of various animals in relation to their brain-
structure, we should be led to infer that the animal man was
one possessing great power of co-ordinating movements, and
that his emotional sensibility would have been considerable.
But, above all, his powers of imagination would have been
deemed by us to have been prodigious, with a corresponding
faculty of collecting, grouping, and preserving sensible images
of objects in complex and coherent aggregations to a de
gree much greater than in any other .animal with which we
were before acquainted. Did we know that all the various
other kinds of existing animals had been developed one from
another by evolution ; did we know that the numerous species
had been evolved from, potential to actual existence by im
planted powers in matter, aided by the influence of incident
forces ; then we might reasonably argue by analogy that a
similar mode of origin had given rise to the exceptional
being, the body of which we were examining.

If, however, it were made clear to us — immaterial intelli-

190 LESSONS FROM NATUEE. [CHAP. VI.

gences — that the dead body before us had been in life endowed
with an activity not merely animal but intellectual, so that
man's mind was an active intelligence like our own — if, in
other words, we understood that the difference between him
and all other animals was not a difference of degree but of kind
— if we could be made to understand that its vast power of col
lecting and grouping sensible images served but to supply its
intellectual activity with materials whereby it might perceive
not merely sensible phenomena, but also abstract qualities of
objects — if we became aware that the sounds uttered by it in
life were not exclusively emotional expressions, but were the
external signs of general conceptions, then the aspect of the
question would be entirely altered for us. If we further
came to know that the being we were considering had been
endowed with the marvellous gift of free-will, by which his
intelligence could interrupt and dominate the vast chain
of merely physical causation, we should then surely con
clude that as that activity and the acting body together
formed but one unity, and as that intellectual activity was
not only different in kind from that displayed by any other
animal but indefinitely more different from the activity of
the highest brute than the activity of the highest brute is
different from that of the lowest — for these reasons we should
conclude that man's origin was different in kind from theirs.

The lesson then concerning man, which we seem to gather
from nature as revealed to us in our own conscious
ness and as externally observed, is that man differs
fundamentally from every other creature which presents
itself to our senses. That he differs absolutely, and therefore
differs in origin also. Although a strict unity, one material
whole with one form, or force (not made of two parts mutually
acting according to the vulgar notion of soul and body), yet
he is seen to be a compound unity in which two distinct
orders of being unite.

He is manifestly " animal," with the reflex functions, feel
ings, desires, and emotions of an animal. Yet equally mani
fest is it that he has a special nature " looking before and

CHAP. VI.] MAN. 191

after" which constitutes him "rational." Ruling, com
prehending, interpreting, and completing much in nature,
we also see in him that which manifestly points above
nature. We see this, since we know that he can conceive
mind indefinitely augmented in power and devoid of those
limitations and imperfections it exhibits in him. Mani
festly a contemplation of nature must be futile indeed which
neglects to ponder over those ideas of power, wisdom, pur
pose, goodness and will, which are revealed to him in and by
his own nature as he knows it to exist, and therefore as con
ceivably existing in a far higher form in that vast universe
of being of which he is a self-conscious fragment.

( 192 )

CHAPTER VII.

THE BRUTE.

" The highest psychical powers of animals resemble the lower psy
chical faculties of man. The brute is devoid of reason, and instinct
is a peculiar function of the material organism, automatic and blind."

IN the preceding chapter the nature of man, the rational
Necessity of animal, could not be investigated without by im-

Bome recapit- , . . . , .

ulation. plication, and indeed more or less directly, treating
of the irrational creation considered in contrast with him.
Here, where our purpose is to endeavour to gather what
lesson we may from a consideration of the highest activities
which brutes manifest, it will be necessary to reconsider
some of the matters already treated of in our examination of
the nature of man. Thus some recapitulation is unavoidable
save at the sacrifice of clearness and cogency.

The highest activities of irrational animals are those
sensitive and emotional ones which constitute the functional
exercise of their nervous system, and especially characteristic
of animal nature is that form of nervous activity called
" Instinct."

The question as to the true nature of " Instinct " is one
instinct, which has been much discussed of late, and is

mode of . 1

studying it. considered by many persons to be peculiarly
difficult. It is, in fact, attended with some peculiar
difficulty, because not only are we unable to make brute
psychosis a part of our own consciousness, but we are
also debarred from learning it by any process similar
to that which enables us to enter into the minds of our
fellow-men— -namely, rational speech. The instincts of

CHAr. VII.] THE BEUTE. 193

animals have been, however, and are very carefully
studied and observed, and it is generally assumed that to
understand "Instinct" the continued and reiterated study
of animal activity is the one thing necessary. It is obvious,
indeed, that without such study Instinct cannot be clearly
comprehended; and yet it may be questioned whether
mental activity, in its endeavour to understand Instinct, has
not been almost exclusively exercised in what, under existing
circumstances, is the least useful mode. Every object of
study is made clear to us by that which limits and contrasts
with it, just as the size of any particular building is brought
home to us by considering the size of surrounding objects,
or its relation to the human stature. To comprehend
Instinct is to appreciate justly its relations with the other
faculties of animals and with our own, and it is especially its
relation to Eeason which is an object of interest. It is,
then, plainly necessary that we should, more or less, perfectly
understand "Eeason," in order to thoroughly understand
" Instinct." Now, unfortunately, it appears that most of
those who have made it their business to study the The mode in
so-called "minds" of animals have taken very St™lly
little pains to understand their own mind. If this appear
ance is not deceptive, it follows that what most requires to
be done, in order to justly appreciate "Instinct," is to
patiently study, not Instinct, but Reason. Perhaps the most
remarkable circumstance connected with living English
writers, on questions such as those we here refer to, is the
conspicuous absence in them of any manifest comprehension
of those very powers they so continually exercise, and their
apparent want of appreciation of that Eeason to which they
verbally appeal. Thus, while what Instinct is, and can do,
is now fairly appreciated ; what it is not, and what it cannot
do, though Eeason can and does, is generally lost sight of
and ignored.

That this defect should exist will not appear so surprising
when we consider how trying and difficult, for those unac
customed to it, is the habit of turning the mind in upon

0

194 LESSONS FEOM NATUEE. [CHAP. VII-

itself, and the investigation by the mind of the mind's own pro-
Reason for cesses. It is not to be wondered at if many persons
this. gjjirk unwonted labour of this kind. Unfortunately,

the study of Eeason, and therefore the study of Instinct also,
cannot be pursued with any reasonable hope of profit without
frequent use of this process of introspection, nor without
referring to, and at least briefly considering, some of the
most fundamental questions of Philosophy. This is, indeed,
obvious, since to compare "Instinct" with "Eeason," we
must know what " Reason " is ; and this can only be ascer
tained by an inquiry into the activity of our own mind, into
its ultimate and supreme declarations, into the tests as to
such supremacy, and into the grounds on uhich we are, if at
all, to accept such supreme declarations as true. Yet, after
all, however arduous may be the process, it nevertheless does
come within the field of experimental science in its widest
sense. It does come within that field, because the elementary
truths concerning the mind and its modes of activity repose
upon observation and experiment, and the hypothesis which
the inductions so induced suggest can be verified by testing
experimentally such deductions as may necessarily flow
from such hypothesis. But the most important of these
observations are observations made by each observer on his
own mental processes, while many of the experiments are of
a similar nature.

The slightest consideration of our own mental activity

O

soon shows us that, in addition to our various

Results of in
trospection, feelings, we also " think " and " will." Thus, when

a kindness has been done us, besides pleasurable feelings
and emotions, we can think of and recognise the kindness of
the kind act — possibly, also, the self-denying goodness
apparent in the performer of it — and we can will to return
such kindness by some corresponding act on our own part.
On the other hand, we may feel great annoyance at some
hostile action ; and as we think of the unpleasant conse
quences, one after another, which will probably result to us
from it, and of the peculiar ingratitude and treachery of the

CHAP. VII.] THE BEUTE. 195

doer, we may begin to determine upon some act of hostility
in return. The idea may then occur to us that revenge is
wrong, and we may wish to avoid our contemplated act of
hostility, but the " malice " of the action may have been
such, and our temperament may be so irascible, that the
temptation to revenge is almost overpowering. We may
then, with the deliberate intention of aiding the weakness of
our goodwill, deliberately consider all the claims on our
forbearance we can think of— such, e.g., as that the father of
our enemy, while alive, did us many kindnesses ; that the
circumstances of his mother are such that any trouble or
anxiety would do her serious injury ; that the son has almost
ceased to be a rational man from his habitual intemperance ;
and we may reinforce these considerations by others drawn
from religion. Finally, we may force ourselves to relinquish
all hostile intention, and perhaps even to perform some
beneficial action instead. Here we have feelings and emo
tions; but, in addition, we have "thought" reflecting on
such feelings and emotions, and ''will" dictating our re
sponsive action. These phenomena of our mind are facts of
observation and experience, as immediately perceptible as
any concerning our botly.

On turning our mind inwards upon itself, we recognise
our own enduring existence as a fact supremely certain.
We know with absolute certainty that we are the same
person we were an hour ago, a week ago, perhaps many
years ago. If we are asked how we recognise our own
existence, we reply we recognise it by our activity, by the
actual exercise of our various powers — in this instance by the
act of thinking, and thinking of ourselves. If we are further
asked whether we can prove our own existence to ourselves, we
reply that primary truths cannot be proved. Every process of
truth, as we have already seen, must ultimately rest on truths
directly known without proof, otherwise the process of reason
ing must run back for ever, and nothing could ever be proved.
Our own existence, as a primary truth directly known to
each of us, cannot be proved. Nevertheless, though we

o 2

196 LESSONS FKOM NATURE. [CHAP. VII.

cannot prove our own existence, we can bring forward a truth
to justify and reinforce our consciousness — namely, " What
ever thinks, exists ;" and since we know that we can and do
think, it necessarily follows that we exist, and so reason
reinforces the declaration of consciousness. Should any one
object— "How do you know that such primary dicta are
true ? May not what you think is your existence be really
the existence of somebody else, or your life the dream of
some other being ?" We reply, that in self-consciousness,
and in the perception of such primary truths as that " What
thinks, exists," we reach the limit which nature has placed,
and that should any man be so mad as to doubt the truth of
such primary dicta, he must logically doubt of every other
affirmation whatever, even that of his own doubt, which thus
destroys itself. Absolute scepticism, and consequently utter
intellectual paralysis, are the inevitable logical results of any
real doubt in this matter of our own existence.

There is another point of which we should make sure in
examining the activity of our own minds. To have a know
ledge of anything is one thing ; to know that we have that
knowledge is another, and a very different thing. We cognize
an object— e.g., a crow flying— by one act ; we cognize that
cognition by a very different act. To judge that one moun
tain is higher than another is one mental act ; to recognise
that mental act as a judgment is an act of a very different
kind. Yet both these are judgments. To feel— to have a
sensation, then, is indeed a different thing from recognising
such sensation as ours, or as being one of a particular class
of sensations.

Our knowledge of ourselves as being the same person
no.v as in the past, implies the trustworthiness of memory
one of the most wonderful of our many wonderful facul
ties. Now by a little further introspection we may easily
organic and see that memory is of two kinds— (1) Involuntary,
memoeryual passive, unconscious, sensitive memory — to our
present possession of which we do not advert ; and (2) Volun
tary, active, conscious, intellectual memory, which we re-

CHAP. VII.] THE BRUTE. 197

cognise ourselves as actually possessing, or as having pos
sessed in the past, or as likely to possess in the future.
Either of these may exist without the other. That the
passive memory may so exist is obvious, but that the
second may be alone present is proved by that most remark
able fact that we may search our minds for something which
we know we have fully remembered, and which we think we
shall probably fully remember again ; which at present we
cannot imagine, but which we intellectually remember, and
immediately recognise as the object of our intellectual pur
suit as soon as its image presents itself in our imagination.

Bearing in mind the lessons as to self-consciousness, reason,
memorv, will, and language, gathered from intro- List of the

•" • T i • min(l's higher

spection and observation in the earlier chapters, it powers.
seems undeniable that we severally possess the following
powers :—

1 . A power of directly perceiving and reflecting upon our

continued personal activity and existence — sensations
and perceptions being reflected on by thought and
recognised as our. own, and we ourselves being recog
nised as affected and perceiving — self -consciousness.

2. A power of actively recalling passed thoughts or expe

riences — intellectual memory.

3. A power of reflecting upon our sensations and per

ceptions, and asking what they are and why they are;
of apprehending abstract ideas ; of perceiving truth
directly or by ratiocination and also goodness — reason.

4. A power of, on certain occasions, deliberately electing

to act either with, or in opposition to, the apparent
resultant of involuntary attractions and repulsions —
will.

5. A power of giving expression by signs to general con

ceptions and abstract ideas ; a power of enunciating
deliberate judgments by articulate sounds — language.
These powers result in actions which are deliberate opera
tions implying the use of a self-conscious, reflective, repre
sentative faculty.

LESSONS FROM NATURE. [CHAP. VII.

Are such powers, however, possessed by all mankind ?
which are Putting aside idiots as beings whose latent facul-

common to ' t

aii mankind, ties are inaccessible, and who are manifestly in
an abnormal pathological condition, we have no hesitation,
alter considering what has been brought forward in preceding
chapters, in affirming that they have. The mental nature of
all men is essentially one ; and if there are those who do not
understand all that is above implied, they can at least be
made to understand it. The essential oneness of human nature
is, as we have seen in the last chapter, sufficiently attested
by witnesses the least likely to be biassed in favour of such
unity, and the most fitted by their abilities, and the patient
labour they have bestowed upon the subject, to express an
authoritative judgment. "Keason" I take to be a reflective
power which asks the questions " What ? " and " Why ? "
But Mr. Tylor tells us, in a passage before cited : —

" Man's craving to know the causes at work in each event he wit
nesses, the reasons why each state of things he surveys is such as it is
and no other, is no product of high civilisation, but a characteristic of
his race down to its lowest stage. Among rude savages it is already an
intellectual appetite, whose satisfaction claims many of the moments
not engrossed by war, or sport, or sleep."— Primitive Culture, vol. i.
p. 332.

He also remarks : —

" The state of things amongst the lower tribes which presents itself
to the student, is a substantial similarity in knowledge, arts, and
customs, running through the whole world." — Researches into the Early
History of Mankind, p. 231.

Indeed, this author not only witnesses to the essential unity
of man in all places but also in all time?. He says : —

" The historian and the ethnographer must be called upon to show
the hereditary standing of each opinion and practice, and their inquiry
must go back as far as antiquity or savagery can show a vestige, for
there seems no human thought so primitive as to have lost its bea'ring
on our own thought, nor so ancient as to have broken its connection
with our life.'' — Primitive Culture, vol. i. p. 409.

All men, then, agree in possessing the faculties above enu
merated—namely, sell-consciousness, reason, and will, with

CHAP. VII.] THE BRUTE. 199

rational speech. It will not, probably, be contended by any
naturalist that Instinct ever rises to such a height as this, but
many assert that it contains such faculties, potentially and in
germ, and that there is, as Mr. Darwin says, no difference of
kind, but only one of degree, between it and reason.

Since we are unable to converse with brutes,* we can but
divine and infer from their gestures, motions, and Danger of a

- „ special fal-

the sounds they emit, what may be the nature ot lacy,
their highest physical powers. Now, in this process of infer
ence, we necessarily risk being guilty of a fallacy similar to
that of which a certain school of Theology has shown us a
conspicuous instance.

The whole process of reasoning being a progression to the
unknown by means of the known, we can of course only define
the former in terms of the latter. All our knowledge having
human sensible experience as its necessary condition, scientific
language can only make use of terms which primarily denote
such human experiences. Thus, when men speak of God and
of his attributes, they are, of course, necessarily limited to
terms primarily denoting human sensible experiences, and
hence arises the danger of theological anthropomorphism. In
the temporary philosophical decline which has accompanied
the rise of physical science, very many modern theologians,
neglecting the old rational conception of a Deus analogus,
have been asserting a Deus univocus with the natural result
of producing the modern opposite error of asserting a Deus
tequivocus. In other words, the absurdity of asserting that
the terms which denote powers and qualities in man have the
very same meaning when also applied to God, has naturally
led to the opposite absurdity of denying that there is any
relation whatever between certain terms as applied to God,

* Professor Huxley (' Contemporary Review ' for November 1871, p. 4G4)
has asked the singular question : " What is the value of the evidence which
leads one to believe that one's fellow-man feels? The only evidence in this
argument of analogy, is the similarity of his structure and of his actions to
one's own." Surely it is not by similarity of structure or actions, but by lan
guage, that men are placed in communication with one another, and that
the rational intellect of each perceives the rationality and sensibility of his
fellow-man.

200 LESSONS FROM NATURE. [CHAP. VII.

and the same terms as applied to man. It lias become ne
cessary to return to the old, safe via media of an older school,
and maintain with them that though no term can be used in
precisely the same sense of man and of God, yet that none
the less there is a certain relation of analogy between these
two uses of the same term.

An exactly parallel but opposite error has taken place in
biological science. Descartes, that fruitful author of philo
sophic error, deserted the old moderate view which affirmed
that between the highest psychical powers of man and brutes
there is a certain natural likeness and analogy, and gave rise
to* the notion that animals are nothing but wonderfully
complex machines — an error naturally resulting in the oppo
site one now so prevalent — the error, namely, that there is a
substantial identity between the brute soul and the soul of
man — Biological Anthropomorphism.

Statements and misrepresentations of the kind follow natu
rally from that tendency which exists on the part of so many
to be interested in and attracted by anecdotes in praise of
the mental powers of brutes. We see this tendency in the
many fables about animals — fables of all ages and of all
clirnes — such as now serve to amuse our childhood or to call
out the skill of artists such as Kaulbach.

It is this biological, or inverted, anthropomorphism, which
has led to that exaggerated interpretation of animal activities,
of which Mr. Darwin, in his ' Descent of Man,' has given us,
as we shall shortly see, such an ever-memorable example.
As an example of the hasty attribution of human qualities to
brutes, on account of certain superficial resemblances, we may
take a sitting bird. It is, no doubt, true that the parent
birds have keen parental emotions, yet a particular conspi
cuous act has had very undue weight assigned to it as a proof
of such tenderness. What praises of the patient fidelity of

* We say "gave rise to," because Descartts did not really himself maintain
that animals were pure machines. He allowed feeling to the animal, and t-aid :
" Je ue lui repose pas menus le sentiment, en taut qu'il depend des 01 gants
du corps; ainsi mon opinion n'e&t pas si oruelle aux animaux."

CHAP. VII.] THE BRUTE. 201

the bird sitting on her unhatched progeny do we not meet
with, and yet this constancy is said to be promoted by some
thing very different from maternal tenderness ! In truth, a
multitude of branching arteries and veins furnish such an
abundance of blood to the bird's breast as to cause it to seek
in the contact of the eggs a refreshing sensation. Cabanis
and Duges tell us * that if a capon be plucked in that region
which is naturally bare in a sitting hen, and if an irritating
substance be applied to the part so stripped, then not only
will the local inflammation cause the capon to seek the con
tact of eggs and to sit, but even to act maternally to the
young when they come to be hatched.

But the distinction in kind between Instinct and .Reason is

shown both by the fact that the former is not able instinct can
not perform

to do things specially characteristic of the latter, rational acts.
and by the fact that it can do other things for which reason,
under such circumstances, would be impotent. Thus, no
animals employ rational language, nor do they deliberately
act in mutual concert, nor make use of antecedent expe
riences to intentionally improve upon the past. Apes are
said, like dogs and cats, to warm themselves with pleasure at
deserted fires, yet, though they see wood burning, they are
unable to add fresh fuel for their comfort. Swallows will
continue to build on a house which they can see has begun
to be demolished. Flies will deposit their eggs on a carrion
plant instead of on animal matter. The hymenopterous
insects show us, perhaps, the most wonderful and complex of
all insects, and yet Sir John Lubbock has f demonstrated, by
careful and interesting experiments, that there is such an
habitual absence of any intercommunication between them
as to facts, as to fairly lead to the inference that their com
munications concern their feelings only.

But Instinct can do things impossible to Keason. Thus,
chickens newly hatched will so correctly adjust their move-

* ' Eapports du Physique et du Moral,' Ed. i. p. 127.

t See two truly admirable Papers read before the Linnean Society on the
19th of March and 17th of December, 187-1.

202 LESSONS FROM NATURE. [CHAP. VII.

ments as at once to pick up various objects. Some young
puppies, M. Gratiolet tells us, that had never seen a wolf,
But can do have been thrown into convulsions by the smell of a
cannot do. small portion of wolf-skin. Birds of the first year
migrate readily to avoid a cold, of which they can have no
knowledge. The young female wasp (Sphex), without ma
ternal experience, will seize caterpillars or spiders, and,
stinging them in a certain definite spot, paralyse and deprive
them of all power of motion (and probably also of sensation),
without depriving them of life. She places them thus para
lysed in her nest with her eggs, so that the grubs, whr-n
hatched, may be able to subsist on a living prey, unable
to escape from or resist their defenceless and all but power
less destroyers. Now, it is absolutely impossible that the
consequences of its actions can have been intellectually
apprehended by the parent wasp. Had she Eeason without
her natural Instinct, she could only learn to perform such
actions through experience and the teaching (by precept or
example) of older wasps. Now, if such complex actions can
be performed in this unconscious manner by insects, why
may not the most seemingly rational actions of higher animals
be performed in a similar manner? Some such actions, in
deed, singularly resemble those of Spliex. Thus, even as to
mammals, one writer tells us: —

" I diig out five young pole-cats, comfortably imbedded in dry,
withered grass ; and in a side hole, of proper dimensions for such a
larder, I poked out forty large frogs and two toads, all alive, but
merely capable of sprawling a little. On examination I found that the
whole number, toads and all, had been purposely and dexterously bitten
through the brain." — (See Magazine of Natural History, vol. vi. p. 206.)

Again, let us consider the carpenter bee, which lays its
eggs in wooden excavations, placed one above another and
separated by thin partitions, the lower cell having a commu
nication with the exterior. The egg of this lowest cell is
hatched first, -and the young readily escapes through the way
of exit provided for it. The next grub has to eat its way
through the partition beneath to reach the outlet, and so with

CHAP. VII.] THE BRUTE. 203

those successively placed higher up. How could the mother
learn by Eeason to construct such a nest, or the young so
learn to escape from it ?

Thus, then, both by what it can do, and by what it cannot,
Instinct exhibits its fundamental distinctness from Keason.
But, indeed, there is no difficulty in quoting from our best-
known evolutionists the most striking declarations as to the
wide difference between the highest psychical faculties of
men and brutes. Thus, even Mr. Darwin is con- Mr. Herbert
strained to admit,* that there is '•' no doubt," but missions? ad
that the difference is "enormous." Mr. Herbert Spencer
also makes some noteworthy admissions. He remarks, e.g.,
as to

" birds that fly from inland to the seaside to feed when the tide is

out, and cattle that return to the farmyard at milking-time

Even here there is not a purely intelligent adjustment of inner to
outer sequences, for creatures accustomed to eat or to be milked at
regular intervals come to have recurrences of constitutional states, and
the sensations accompanying these states form the proximate stimuli
to their acts." — Psychology, vol. i. pp. 323, 32i.

And, again, he says : —

" It is anatomically demonstrable that the pairing and nidification of
birds in the spring is preceded by constitutional changes which are
probably produced by more food and higher temperature. And it is a
rational inference that the whole series of processes in the rearing of a
brood are severally gone through, not with any recognition of remote
ends, but solely made under the stimulus of conditions continuously
present."

Also he admits that we find this

" higher order of correspondence in time, scarcely more than fore
shadowed among the Idyht-r animals, and definitely exhibited only
when we arrive at the human race."

And, again : —

" Only when we come to the human race are correspondences of this
degree of speciality exhibited with distinctness and frequency." — Op.
tit. p. 338.

* ' Descent of Man,' vol. ii. p. 34.

204 LESSONS FROM NATUEE. [CHAP. VII.

He also makes a very important admission when be says :—

" It might fairly be said that the Indian fish, which catches insects
flying over the surface by hitting them with jets of water, exhibits an
adjustment of inner relations to outer relations as special as that shown
by the archer (who shoots high according to the distance of the object
aimed at); but considering that in the fish nothing more is implied
than an automatic connection between certain visual impressions and
certain muscular contractions, it cannot be held that there is anything
like the complexity of correspondence." — Op. cit. p. 353.

Surely the very same principle may be applied to explain
the actions of the parrot, the pointer, the sapajou cracking his
nut with a stone, or the chimpanzee drinking out of his tea
cup. There is nothing in any of these actions indicating a
power different in kind from that evidently possessed by the
fish, so aiming his watery jet as to hit in the air an object seen
from beneath the water in spite of the effects of refraction.
Finally, may be cited the following passage : —

" The animal's nervous system is played upon by external objects,
the clustered properties of which draw out answering chords of feelings,
followed by faintly-reverberating chords of further feelings ; but it is
otherwise passive — it cannot evolve a consciousness that is independent
of the immediate environment." — Op. cit. pp. 564, 565.

Here we have the necessary results of an absence of self-
consciousness. Beings devoid of self-consciousness

"differentiate nothing consciously; they move, but they know not
where, or why, or when ; they see, but they know not colour as dis- .
tinguished from sound, which they bear equally unconsciously. They
know not their eye as such ; they have senses and perceive, but they
know not anything as such. Memory they may have, but they dis
tinguish not the remembrance from the perception." — The Psychology
of Scepticism and Phenomenalism. By James Andrews. Glasgow :
J. Maclefuse, 1874.

It may be well here to consider the anecdotes narrated
Mr Darwin's by Mr. Darwin in support of the rationality of
anecdotes. brutes. Before doing so, however, we must remark
that his statements given on the authority (sometimes second
hand authority) of others afford little evidence of careful

CHAP. VII.] THE BRUTE. 205

criticism. This is the more noteworthy when we consider
the care and pains which he bestows on all the phenomena
which he himself examines.

Thus, for example, we are told on the authority of Brehm
that

" An eagle seized a young cercopithecus, which, by clinging to a
branch, was not at once carried off; it cried loudly for assistance,
upon which other members of the troop, with much uproar, rushed to
the rescue, surrounded the eagle, and pulled out so many feathers that
he no longer thought of his prey, but only how to escape." — vol. i.
p. 76.

I confess I wish that Mr. Darwin had witnessed this
episode. Perhaps, however, he has seen other facts suffi
ciently similar to render this one credible. In the absence
of really good evidence, I should, however, be inclined to
doubt the fact of a young cercopithecus, unexpectedly
seized, being able, by clinging, to resist the action of an
eagle's wings.

Again he tells us (vol. i. p. 41) that " one female baboon
had so capacious a heart that she not only adopted young
monkeys of other species, but stole young dogs and cats,
which she continually carried about. Her kindness, how
ever, did not go so far as to share her food with her adopted
offspring, at which Brehm was surprised, as his monkeys
always divided everything quite fairly with their own young
ones. An adopted kitten scratched the above-mentioned
affectionate baboon, who certainly had a fine intellect, for she
was much astonished at being scratched, and immediately
examined the kitten's feet, and without more ado bit off
the claws !"

Another sensational statement is given on the same au
thority:* "A great troop of baboons were crossing a valley;
some had already ascended the opposite mountain, and
some were still in the valley ; the latter were attacked by
dogs, but the old males immediately hurried down from the

* Op. cit. p 75.

206 LESSONS FEOM NATURE. [CHAP. VII.

rocks, and with mouths widely opened roared so fearfully
that the dogs precipitately retreated. They were again
encouraged to the attack ; but by this time all the baboons
had re-ascended the heights, excepting a young one, about
six months old, who, loudly calling for aid, climbed on a
block of rock and was surrounded. Now one of the largest
males, a true hero, came down again from the mountain,
slowly went to the young one, coaxed him, and triumphantly
led him away — the dogs being too much astonished to make an
attacJc."* The last words are truly puerile ; the whole we
have no hesitation in characterizing as an audacious ro
mance, though possibly " founded on fact." The statement
that " the dogs," which had not hesitated to attack " the
great troop of baboons," were too much overcome to assault
one, even while " slowly " returning, or when again retreat
ing and " leading away " with him the infant of six months,
will form a good " pendant " to the weak-winged eagle of the
preceding tale.

Again we readf of a "troop of the Cercopithecus griseo-
viridis" having rushed through a thorny brake, after which
"each monkey stretches itself on a branch, and another
monkey sitting by ' conscientiously ' examines its fur and
extracts every thorn or burr." In those who know monkeys,
even at the Zoological Gardens, the process of extraction
will create no surprise, but the epithet " conscientiously "
and the word " every " reveal the animus of this too willing
witness.

Again we have a romance on only second-hand authority
(namely a quotation by Brehrn of Schimper) to the follow
ing effect : —

" In Abyssinia, when the baboons belonging to one species (C. ydada)
descend in troops from the mountains to plunder the fields, they some
times encounter troops of another species (C. Itamadryas), and then a
fight ensues. The Geladas roll down great stones, which the Hama-
dryas try to avoid, and then both species, making a great uproar, rush
furiously against each other. Brehm, when accompanying the Duke

Italics ours. f Op. cit. p. 75.

CHAP. VII.] THE BRUTE. 207

of Coburg-Gotha, aided in an attack with fire-arms on a troop of
baboons in the pass of Meusa in Abyssinia. The baboons in return
rolled so many stones down the mountain, some as large as a man's
head, that the attackers had to beat a retreat; and the pass was
actually for a time closed against the caravan. It deserves notice that
these baboons thus acted in concert." — Vol. i. p. 51.

Now, if every statement of fact here given be absolutely
correct, it in no way even tends to invalidate the distinction
we have drawn between " instinct " and " reason ;" but the
positive assertion that the brutes " acted in concert," when
the evidence proves nothing more than that their actions
were simultaneous, shows a strong bias on the part of the
narrator. A flock of sheep will simultaneously turn round
and stare and stamp at an intruder ; but this is not " con
certed action," which means that actions are not only simul
taneous, but are so in consequence of a reciprocal under
standing and convention between the various agents. It
may be added that if any brutes were capable of such really
concerted action, the effects would soon make themselves
known to us so forcibly as to prevent the possibility of
mistake.

Mr. Darwin even permits himself to indulge in such
remarks as the following. He says :* " But can we feel sure
that an old dog with an excellent memory and some power
of imagination, as shown by his dreams, never reflects on
his past pleasures in the chase ? and this would be a form
of self-consciousness. On the other hand, Buclmer has re
marked, how little can the hard-worked wife of a degraded
Australian savage, who uses hardly any abstract words [ !]
and cannot count above four, exert her self-consciousness, or
reflect on the nature of her own existence."

The consequences of accepting facts which have no evi
dence in their favour and many against them, merely be
cause we cannot feel sure that they are not true, would be
alarming indeed. Here, however, for the reasons before

* ' Descent of Mun,' vol. ii. p. 109.

208 LESSONS FROM NATURE. [CHAP. VII.

given in this chapter, we may feel quite sure. Mr. Darwin's
speculation as to the dog is utterly gratuitous, since we need
never introduce an unlikely cause for any phenomenon when
one known to exist, the dog's sentient nature, is sufficient
to explain the phenomenon in question. As to the Aus
tralian, experience shows us how very slight powers of arith
metic may coexist with very distinct reflections on the
problems of human existence.

Again, Mr. Darwin says :* " Who can say what cows iVel,
when they surround and stare intently on a dying or dead
companion ? That animals sometimes are far from feeling
any sympathy is too certain ; for they will expel a wounded
animal from the herd, or gore or worry it to death." It is
such passages as these which make the task of criticism so
painful ; yet the gravity of the issue leaves no alternative,
though I am anxious to keep the expression of disapproval
within the narrowest possible limits consonant with justice.

To exaggerate the emotions of brutes and give them an
intellectual appearance is, however, a necessity o! Mr. Darwin's
position, since (as we saw in our fifth chapter) he makes first
gregariousness and then social sympathy the origin of our
power of moral perception.

And here a caution may well be given against the am
biguity which may lie hid in the terms " gregarious " and
" social."

It must never be lost sight of that in a " gregarious
habit " there is no moral element. First, because the mental
powers of brutes are not equal to form reflective, deliberate
judgments ; and, secondly, because all the facts, however
mutually beneficial may be their action, may be explained
without the intervention, on their part, of reason. The
word " social " is ambiguous, since gregarious animals may,
metaphorically, be called social, and man's social relations
may be regarded both as to the material benefits they
occasion and also morally. Having then first used the

* Op. tit. p. 76.

CHAP. VII.] TEE BRUTE. 209

term '• social " in one sense, it may easily be afterwards
employed in the other meaning, and thus the conception
of " moral action " may be silently and illegitimately intro
duced when describing the habits of animals.

Speaking of the actions of gregarious animals, Mr. Darwin
remarks that their feelings and services are by no means
extended to all the individuals of the same species, only to
those of the same association. But Mr. Gralton has shown*
by evidence that direct services are not extended even to
members of the same troop or herd.

We come now to Mr. Darwin's instances of brute ration
ality. In the first place he tells us : — • AS to brute

rationality.

" I had a dog who was savage and averse to all strangers, and I pur
posely tried his memory after an absence of five years and two days.
I went near the stable where he lived, and shouted to him in my old
manner ; he showed no joy, but instantly followed me out walking and
obeyed me, exactly as if I had parted with him only half an hour before.
A train of old associations, dormant during five years, had thus been
instantaneously awakened in his mind." — vol. i. p. 45.

No doubt ! but this is not " reason." Indeed, we could
hardly have a better instance of the mere action of associated
sensible impressions. What have we here which implies
more than memory, impressions of sensible objects and their
association ? Had there been reason there would have been
signs of joy and wonder, though such signs would not alone
prove reason to exist. It is evident that Mr. Darwin's own
explanation is the sufficient one — namely, a train of asso
ciated sensible impressions. Mr. Darwin surely cannot think
that there is in this case any evidence of the dog's having
put to himself those questions which, under the circum
stances, a rational being would put. Mr. Darwin also tells
us how a monkey-trainer gave up in despair monkeys the
attention of which was easily distracted from his teaching,
while "a monkey which carefully attended to him could
always" be trained." But " attention " does not imply

* See ' Macmillan's Magazine ' for March 1871.

210 LESSONS FROM NATURE. [CHAP. VII.

" reason." The anecdote only shows that some monkeys are
more easily impressed and more retentive of impressions
than others.

Again, we are told, as an instance of reason, that " Kengger
sometimes put a live wasp in paper so that the monkeys in
hastily unfolding it got stung ; after this had once happened,
they always first held the packet to their ears to detect any
movement within." But here again we have no need to call
in the aid of " reason." The monkeys had had the group
of sensations " folded paper " associated with the other
groups — " noise and movement " and " stung fingers." The
second time they experience the group of sensations " folded
paper " the succeeding sensations (in this instance only too
keenly associated) are forcibly recalled, and with the recol
lection of the auditory sensation the hand goes to the ear.
Yet Mr. Darwin considers this unimportant instance of such
significance that he goes on to say : —

" Any one who is not convinced by such facts as these, and by what
he may observe with his own dogs, that animals can reason, would not
be convinced by anything I could add. Nevertheless, I will give one
case with respect to dogs, as it rests on two distinct observers, and can
hcurdly depend on the modification of any instinct. [The italics are mine.]
Mr. Colquhoun winged two wild ducks, which fell on the opposite side
of a stream ; his retriever tried to bring over both at once, but could
not succeed ; she then, though never before known to ruffle a feather,
deliberately killed one, brought over the other, and returned for the
dead bird. Colonel Hutchinson relates that two partridges were shot
at once, one being killed and the other wounded ; the latter ran away,
and was caught by the retriever, who on her return came across the
dead bird ; she stopped, evidently greatly puzzled, and after one or
two trials, finding she could not take it up without permitting the
escape of the winged bird, she considered a moment, then deliberately
murdered it by giving it a severe crunch, and afterwards brought away
both together. This was the only known instance of her having
wilfully injured any game."

Mr. Darwin adds : —

" Here we have reason, though not quite perfect, for the retriever
might have brought the wounded bird first and then returned for the
dead one, as in the case of the two wild ducks." — Vol. i. pp. 47, 48.

Jlere I reply we have nothing of the kind, and to bring

CHAP. VII.] THE BRUTE. 211

"reason" into play is gratuitous. The circumstances can
be perfectly explained (and on Mr. Darwin's own principles)
as evidences of the revival of an old instinct. The ancestors
of sporting dogs of course killed their prey, and that trained
dogs do not do so is simply due to man's action, which has
suppressed the instinct by education and which so continu
ally keeps it under control. It is indubitable that the old
tendency must be latent, and that a small interruption in the
normal retrieving process, such as occurred in the cases cited,
would probably be sufficient to revive it and call the obso
lete habit into exercise.

But perhaps the most surprising instance of groundless
inference is presented in the following passage : —

" My clog, a ful] -grown and very sensible animal, was lying on the
lawn during a hot and stillday ; but at a little distance a slight breeze
occasionally moved an open parasol, which would have been wholly dis
regarded by the dog, had any one stood near it. As it was, every time
that the parasol slightly moved, the dog growled fiercely and barked.
He must, I think, have reasoned to himself in a rapid and unconscious
manner, that movement without any apparent cause indicated the pre
sence of some strange living agent, and no stranger had a right to be
on his territory."— vol. i. p. 67.

The consequences deduced from this trivial incident are
amazing. Probably, however, Mr. Darwin does not mean
what he says ; but, on the face of it, we have a brute credited
with the abstract ideas " movement," " causation," and the
notions logically arranged and classified in subordinate
genera— " agent," '• living agent," "strange living agent."
He also attributes to it the notion of " a right " of " terri
torial limitation," and the relation of such "limited terri
tory " and " personal ownership." It may safely be affirmed
that if a dog could so reason in one instance he would in
others, and would give much more unequivocal proofs for
Mr. Darwin's use.

Mr. Darwin, however, speaks of reasoning in an "un
conscious manner," so that he cannot really mean any pro
cess of reasoning at all ; but, if so, his case is in no way
apposite. Even, an insect can be startled, and will exhibit

p 2

212 LESSONS FROM NATURE. [CHAP. VII.

as much evidence of rationality as is afforded by the growl
of a dog ; and all that is really necessary to explain such a
phenomenon exists in an oyster, or even in the much-talked-
of Ascidian.

Thus, then, it appears that, even in Mr. Darwin's specially-
selected instances, there is not a tittle of evidence tending,
however slightly, to show that any brute possesses the re
presentative reflective faculties. But if, as we assert, brute
animals are destitute of such higher faculties, it may well be
that those lower faculties which they have (and which we more
or less share with them) are highly developed, and their
senses possess a degree of keenness and quickness incon
ceivable to us. Their minds* being entirely occupied with
such lower faculties, and having, so to speak, nothing else to
attend to, their sensible impressions become interwoven and
connected to a greater extent than in us. Indeed, in the
absence of free-will, the laws of the association of ideas
obtain supreme command over the minds of brutes: the
brute being entirely immersed, as it were, in his presentative
faculties.

There yet remains a matter for consideration, which tends
to prove the fundamental difference which exists between
the mental powers of man and brutes : I mean the mental
equality between animals of very different grades of struc
ture, and their non-progress! veness. Considering the vast
antiquity of the great animal groups,f it is, indeed, remark
able how little advance in mental capacity has been made
even by the highest brutes. This is made especially evident
by Mr. Darwin's own assertions as to the capacities of lowly
animals. Thus he tells us that—

" Mr. Gardner, whilst watching a shore-crab (Gelasimus) making its
burrow, threw some shells towards the hole. One rolled in, and three

* The words " mind," " mental," " intelligence," &c., are here made use of in
reference to the highest psychical faculties of brutes, in conformity to popular
usage, and not as strictly appropriate.

f Mr. Darwin (vol. i. p. H60) refers to Dr. Scudder's discovery of " a fossil
insect in the Devonian formation of New Brunswick, furnished Avith the
well-known tympanum or stridulating apparatus of the male Lucustidro."

CHAP. VII.] THE BEUIE. 213

other shells remained within a few inches of the mouth. In about five
minutes the crab brought out the shell which had fallen in, and carried
it away to the distance of a foot ; it then saw the three other shells
lying near, and evidently thinking (the italics are mine) that they might
likewise roll in, carried them to the spot where it had laid the first." —
vol. i. p. 334,

Mr. Darwin adds or quotes the astonishing remark, " It
would, I think, be difficult to distinguish this act from one
performed by man by the aid of reason." Again, he tells
us : —

" Mr. Lonsdale informs me that he placed a pair of land-snails
(Helix pomatia), one of which was weakly, into a small and ill-provided
garden. After a short time the strong and healthy individual dis
appeared, and was traced by its track of slime over a wall into an
adjoining well-stocked garden. Mr. Lonsdale concluded that it had
deserted its sickly mate ; but after an absence of twenty-four hours
it returned, and apparently communicated the result of its successful
exploration, for both then started along the same track and disappeared
over the wall." — vol. i. p. 325.

Whatever may be the real value of the statements quoted,
they harmonize with a matter which is incontest- Parit of
able. I refer to the fact that the intelligence of j£S°£_
brutes, be they high or be they low, is essentially auferciTani-
one in kind, there being a singular parity between uulls'
animals belonging to groups widely different in type of
structure and in degree of development. It is difficult to see
in what respect the " intelligence " of these land-snails fell
short of that of a gorilla.

Apart from the small modifications which experience occa
sionally introduces into the habits of animals — as sometimes
occurs after man has begun to frequent a newly-discovered
island — it cannot be denied that, looking broadly over the
whole animal kingdom, there is no evidence of advance in
mental power on the part of brutes. This absence of pro
gression in animal intelligence is a very important con
sideration, and it is one which does not seem to be adverted
to by Mr. Darwin, though the facts detailed by him are
exceedingly suggestive of it.

When I speak of this absence of progression, I do not, of

214 LESSONS FROM NATURE. [CHAP. VII.

course, mean to deny that the dog is superior in mental
activity to the fish, or the jackdaw to the toad. What is
meant is that, considering the vast period of time that must
have elapsed (on Mr. Darwin's theory) for the evolution of
an Orang from an Ascidian, and considering how beneficial
increased intelligence must be to all in the struggle for life,
it is inconceivable, on Mr. Darwin's principles only, that a
mental advance should not have taken place greater in degree,
more generally diffused, and more in proportion to the grade
of the various animals than we find to be actually the case.
For in what respect is the intelligence of the ape superior to
that of the dog or of the elephant? An absurd over-esti
mate of the psychical qualities of apes is common enough.
But with respect to them the mistake is natural, seeing that
their resemblance to us in bodily form gives a deceptive
appearance to actions and tricks which, but for this resem
blance, would excite no very special notice. Yet in fact,
as to apes, it cannot be said that there is one point in which
their psychical nature approximates to man more than that
of those of four-footed beasts. But, again, where is the great
superiority of a dog or an ape over a bird ? The falcon
trained to hawking is at least as remarkable an instance
of the power of education as the trained dog. The tricks
which birds can be taught to perform are as complex and
wonderful as those acted by the mammal. The phenomena
of nidification, and some of those now brought forward by
Mr. Darwin as to courtship, are fully comparable with
analogous phenomena of quasi- intelligence in any beast.

This, however, is but a small part of the argument. For
let us descend to the Invertebrata, and what do we find ? —
a restriction of their quasi-mental faculties proportioned to
their constantly inferior type of structure ? By no means.
We find, e.g., in ants, phenomena which simulate those of
an intelligence such as ours far more than do any pheno
mena exhibited by the highest beasts. Ants display a
complete and complex political organization, classes of beings
socially distinct, war resulting in the capture of slaves, and

CHAP. VII.] THE BEUTE. 215

the appropriation and maintenance of domestic animals
(Aphides) analogous to our milk-giving cattle.

Mr. Darwin truthfully remarks on the great difference in
these respects between such creatures as ants and bees, and
singularly inert members of the same class, such as the
scale insect or coccus. But can it be pretended that natural
and sexual selection have alone produced these phenomena in
certain insects, and failed to produce them in any other
mere animals even of the very highest class? If these
phenomena are due to a power and faculty similar in kind
to human intelligence, and which power is latent and capable
of evolution in all animals, then it is certain that this power
must have been evolved in other instances also, and that we
should see varying degrees of it in many, and notably in the
highest brutes as well as in man. If, on the other hand, the
faculties of brutes are different in kind from human intelli
gence, there can be no reason whatever why animals most
closely approaching man in physical structure should re
semble him in psychical nature also.

To criticisms of this nature addressed to Mr. Darwin,
Professor Huxley, as already said, has replied in the ' Con
temporary Keview.' Adverting to the question of " reason,"
Professor Huxley there asserts * that " ratiocination Professor
is resolvable into predication, and predication con- 2a^ffr^
sists in marking, in some way, the succession, the tiouality-
likeness and unlikeness, of things or their ideas. Whatever
does this, reasons; and if a machine produces these effects of
reason, I see no more ground for denying to it the reasoning
power because it is unconscious, than I see for refusing to
Mr. Babbage's engine the title of a calculating machine on
the same grounds."

" Thus it seems to me that a gamekeeper reasons, whether he
is conscious or unconscious, whether his reasoning is carried on
by neurosis alone, or whether it involves more or less psychosis."

I, on the other hand, consider that predication essentially

'Contemporary Review ' tor November 1871, p. 463.

216 LESSONS FROM NATURE. [CHAP. VII.

consists not in marking " succession, likeness, and unlike-
ness," but in recognising these relations as true.

To this extent I may shelter myself under the authority of
Mr. John Stuart Mill. Mr. Mill, in criticising Sir William
Hamilton's definition of judgment, makes the following re
marks ('Examination of Sir William Hamilton's Philosophy,'
p. 346) :-

" The first objection which, I think, must occur to any one, on the
contemplation of this definition, is that it omits the main and charac
teristic element of a judgment and of a proposition. . . . When we judge
or assert, there is introduced a new element, that of objective reality,
and a new mental fact, belief. Our judgments, and the assertions
which express them, do not enunciate our mere mode of mentally con
ceiving things, but our conviction or persuasion that the facts as con
ceived actually exist ; and a theory of judgments and propositions
which does not take account of this, cannot be a true th>ory. In the
words of Reid, ' I give the name of judgment to every determination of
the mind concerning irhat is true or ivhat is false. This, I think, is
what logicians, from the days of Aristotle, have called judgment.' And
this is the very element which Sir Wm. Hamilton's definition" [and I
may now add Professor Huxley's also] " omits from it."

Farther on Mr. Mill says :—

" Belief is an essential element in a judgment. . . . The recognition
of it as true is not only an essential part, but the essential element of it
as a judgment ; leave that out, and there remains a mere play of thought,
in which no judgment is passed. It is impossible to separate the idea
of judgment from the idea of the truth of a judgment ; for every judg
ment consists in judging something to be true. The element belief,
instead of being an accident which can be passed in silence, and
admitted only by implication, constitutes the very difference between
a judgment and any other intellectual fact, and it is contrary to all the
laws of definition to define judgment by anything else. The very
meaning of a judgment or a proposition is something which is capable
of being believed or disbelieved ; which can be true or false ; to which
it is possible to say yes or no."

In addition to this, Mr. Mill, in his notes on his father's
Mr. James Mill's, ' Analysis of the Human Mind,' ably shows,
against Mr. Herbert Spencer, that rational belief cannot be
explained as being identical with indissoluble association
(vol. i. p. 402).

In denying, then, reason to brutes — in denying that their

CHAP. VII.] THE BRUTE. 217

acts are rational, I do not, of course, deny for a moment that
they are rational in the sense in which Mr. Babbage's ma
chine is calculating ; but what I do maintain is, that brutes
have not the power of forming judgments in the sense above
explained. And I still more emphatically deny that brutes
have any, even the very dimmest, consciousness of such ideas
as " ought " and " moral excellence." And because I further
believe that no amount of sensible experiences can generate
these conceptions, I deny that any brute is even potentially
a moral agent. Those who credit brutes with " morality,"
do so by first eliminating from that idea all its essential
characteristics.

One word now of explanation. Professor Huxley seems
much disturbed at my speaking of virtue as, in his view, a
kind of retrieving, and accuses me of imposing an " injurious
nickname," and making a "joke." Nothing could have been
further from my intention than either the one or the other.
As it happens the expression was not my own, but was picked
up in conversation with as thorough a Darwinian even as
Professor Huxley himself, who used it, as I understood, not
as a nickname, but as a handy mode of bringing home his
conceptions to my mind. I made use of it in all innocence,
and I still think it singularly apt and appropriate, not cer
tainly to express the conception " virtue," but to bring home
the utilitarian notion of it. Professor Huxley says, " What
if it is ? Does that make it less virtue ?" I answer, unhesi
tatingly, that it not only makes it " less virtue," but pre
vents it being virtue at all, unless it springs as a habit
acquired from self-conscious acts directed towards an end
recognised as good.

It is perhaps no less decided a sensationalist than Mr.
Lewes who has of late made the most unequivocal de
claration as to the great difference — a difference even in
kind between the highest psychical faculties of brutes, and
our own mental powers. He tells us : — Mr. Lewes's

admissions.

" The animal fools the cosmos, and adapts himself to it. Man feels

218 LESSONS FROM NATURE. [CHAP. VII.

the cosmos, but he also thinks it." — Problems of Life and Mind, vol. i.
pp. 123, 124.

Again he says : —

" Circles differ from circles in degree ; they differ from ellipses in
kind. Whether large or small the circle has the same properties, and
these are different from the properties of the ellipse. It is true that by
insensible gradations the circle may flatten into an ellipse, or the two
foci of the ellipse may blend into one, and form a circle. But so long
as there are two foci, the ellipse has its characteristic properties. In
like manner the boundaries of the animal and human may be found
insensibly blending at certain points ; but whenever the ' animal circle '
has become transformed into the ' human ellipse,' by the introduction
of a second centre, the difference ceases to be one of degree, and becomes
one of kind, the germ of infinite variations." — Op. tit. pp. 153, 154.

This remarkable passage contains even a stronger argu
ment in favour of the distinctness in kind between the
faculties of men and brutes, even than Mr. Lewes himself
intends. It does so because Mr. Lewes is wrong in saying
that " by insensible grades the circle may flatten into an
ellipse." With the least degree of flattening, the figure
ceases absolutely to be a circle, although our senses may
fail to detect the aberration. Mr. Lewes also admits* that
brutes have " no conceptions, no general ideas, no symbols
of logical operations," and affirms that the absurdity of
thinking brutes could be rational

"is so glaring, that we need not wonder at profoundly meditative
minds having been led to reject with scorn the hypothesis which seeks
for an explanation of human intelligence in the functions of the bodily
organism common to man and animals, and having had recourse to the
hypothesis of a spiritual agent superadded to the organism." — Op. cit.
p. 157.

He also sayst that "animal imagination is reproduc
tive, but not plastic : it never constructs ;" and describes £
the "knowledge" of the brute as "such registrations of
experience as suffice to guide his actions in the satisfac
tion of immediate impulses." In addition to all this, he

Op. cit. pp. 154, 155. t Op. cit. p. 169.

t Op. cit. p. 250.

CHAP. VII.] THE BKUTE. 219

makes* the highly important and suggestive addition
that "between animal and human intelligence there is a
gap, which can only be bridged over by an addition from
without"

He alsof remarks: "The animal thinks, but only in
sensations and images, not in abstractions and symbols. The
animal perceives no 'object,' no 'causal nexus,' not being
able to form such abstractions from his feelings."

It may be remarked, by the way, that it is a strange and
misleading abuse of language to speak of "thinking in
sensations;" one might as well use the phrase "talking in
respirations."

Finally he tells us :J " The animal world is a continuum
of smells, sights, touches, tastes, pains, and pleasures ; it has
no objects, no laws, no distinguishable abstractions such as
Self and Not-self. This world we can never understand,
except in such dim guesses as we can form respecting the
experiences of those born blind, guesses that are always
vitiated by the fact that we cannot help seeing what we try

to imagine them as only touching If we see a bud,

after we have learned that it is a bud, there is always a
glance forward at the flower, and backward glances at the
seed, dimly associated with the perception. But what animal
sees such things ? What animal sees a bud at all, except as
a visual sign of some other sensation ? "

Surely Hegel was far more right than his critic, Mr. Lewes,
in distinguishing human feeling from animal feeling, on the
ground that thought is immanent in the former and not in
the latter.

But long ago the world-renowned physiologist, John
Miiller, clearly laid down such distinctions, saying § that
brutes may easily enough form associations between sensible
perceptions, but that to form abstract conceptions

John Muller.

of such operations as of something common to

* Op. cit, p. 156. t ' Problems of Life and Mind,' vol. i. p. 127.

J Op. cit. p. 140.

§ See Mailer's ' Physiology,' translated by Dr. Baly, 1842, vol. li. p. 1347.

220 LESSONS FKOM NATUEE. [CnAr. VII.

many under the notion of cause and effect, is a perfect
impossibility to them. He distinctly says that : —

" The cause of this difference between man and beasts does not lie in
the comparative lucidity or obscurity of the impressions made on their
minds respectively ; for in this respect there is assuredly no superiority
in the human mind. I am, therefore, of opinion that the human mind
also would never derive from the mere experience afforded by the
senses, and from habit, the general abstract idea of causality, unless it
had a certain power of abstraction — a power, namely, of forming a
mental something out of the returning combinations of two things of
which one requires the succession of the other." — (See Miiller's Phy
siology. Translated by Dr. Baly, 1842, vol. ii. p. 1347.)

He adds that although dogs will become accustomed to
perceive that hats and caps of various forms are put on the
head, to recognise their master whether naked or clothed,
and sticks of different shapes, yet the notions of identity
and constancy, as opposed to difference and variability, are
beyond the limits of their psychical powers.

It is undeniable, then, that Instinct, as made known to us
Man 'slower in and by animals, is something very different

psychical . J

Acuities, from Keason in its developed condition. Such being
the broad distinction between the highest psychical faculties
of men and brutes, we may proceed to consider whether any
of the lower faculties of the former can throw any light upon
such highest faculties of the latter. In considering our
highest mental powers, we have already seen that besides
deliberate thought, inference, voluntary attention, active
memory, will, moral judgment, and speech, we have direct per
ception, association, automatic attention, involuntary memory,
indeliberate volition, sympathetic emotion, and emotional
expression. It may be well here to look a little further at
these and some cognate matters, though space will only
permit us to do so in a very cursory manner.

In a healthy condition, digestion, assimilation, and growth
are all performed by us in utter unconsciousness, as are the
essential and intimate processes of respiration and reproduc
tion ; and all these are faculties shared by us, not only with
every animal, but with every plant. Another faculty is

CHAP. VII.] THE BEUTE. 221

shared by us with animals, and is ministered to by our
nervous system, though still without the intervention of
consciousness. This is the now familiar power of *< reflex
action," a power which gives rise to movements in response
to unfelt stimuli, such movements becoming positively more
energetic with the advent of insensibility.*

Thus when the back has been broken by an injury so that
the patient has no longer the slightest power of feeling with
his lower limbs, yet none the less the foot will withdraw
itself from tickling as if a sensation were consciously felt.

A medical friend mentioned to me a short time ago a
curious instance of the external manifestation of apparent
self-consciousness which none the less was really absent. He
was removing a lady's finger who was under the influence of
nitrous oxide. All the time she was weeping and exclaiming,
" Oh, my poor finger !" &c. Yet, on recovery, she had not at
first the slightest knowledge that the operation had been
performed.

As to the lower animals, multitudes of experiments demon
strate that the performance of varied and complex consenta
neous movements may be unaccompanied by even sensation —
as in the case of the lady, or of the patient with the fractured
spine. Thus a frog which has been decapitated will none the
less join its hind legs together and push away a probe intro
duced into the cloaca. Even more remarkable is the fact
that a frog which has not only lost its head but even the
greater part of its body also, will similarly act with apparent
volition. The case alluded to is when the head is removed
and also the posterior part of the trunk and the lower
extremities, the part left being only the anterior portion of
the body together with the arms. If this operation be per
formed on a male frog at the breeding season, and if, after
its performance, the little wart-like prominence on its fore
paw (which at that season is in the place of a thumb) be
touched, the two arms immediately fly together in an

For good examples sec Dr. Carpenter's ' Mental Physiology,' 187-1, p. 70.

222 LESSONS FEOM NATUKE. [CHAP. VII.

embrace, just as they would do in a living and perfect frog
in the act of clasping the female.

There is, however, another class of actions which in us
result, indeed, from sensations, but which take place auto
matically, and without the intervention of our will, or even
of our attention.

Thus, when an object suddenly approaches our eye, the
eyelids may close almost simultaneously with the experience
of the sensation. A sudden or unwonted sound will cause
the whole frame to start — a direct and immediate sense-
perception, producing a result before we have time to inquire
into the cause of that affection of our sense. The act of
swallowing an object placed far back in the mouth is probably
simply reflex, but, as Dr. Alison has remarked,* the initial
act of deglutition, that of passing the food backwards from
the tongue to the isthmus faueium, is due to a sometimes
almost irresistible propensity to swallow whatever grateful
food or drink is in the mouth. Again, as to the act of
sucking, Bichat says : —

" It is instinct, which I do not understand, and of which I cannot
give the smallest account, which makes the infant, at the time of birth,
draw together its lips to commence the action of sucking."

Indeed, actions of this kind are commonly spoken of as
instinctive ; and such are those we perform in walking
through crowded streets absorbed in a reverie, or in running
up or down stairs — when, indeed, any direction of the atten
tion upon our successive actions tends but to mar them.
Allied to these actions, also, are the wonderful wanderings
of somnambulists. Dr. Carpenter givest an amusing account
of the spontaneous production of movements in response to
felt stimuli on the part of certain somnambulists. He says
of such that, if their arm be

" advanced forward in the position of striking a blow, .... the som
nambulist is very apt to put it into immediate execution." On one occa
sion, when Dr. Carpenter was present, " a violent blow was struck, which

* See Todd's 'Cyclopaedia,' vol. iii. p. 4.
t 'Mental Physiology,' 187-1, p. 605.

CHAP. VII.] THE BEUTE. 223

chanced to alight upon a second somnambulist within reach ; his com-
bativeness being thereby excited, the two closed and began to belabour
one another with such energy that they were with difficulty separated.
Although their passions were at the moment so strongly excited that,
even when separated, they continued to utter furious denunciations
against each other, yet a little discreet manipulation of their muscles
soon calmed them, and put them into perfect good humour."

A very singular and complete case of automatism has
occurred in France,* where a man who was severely wounded
in the head in the late war passes a day or two of each
month in a condition in which his consciousness seems
entirely to disappear, and every sense but touch is dormant,
while his acts are entirely directed through the suggestions
offered to him by objects he feels.

But apart from all abnormality, such actions as walking
and talking, or playing the piano, show that wonderful
effects may be produced by the sensibility, apart from self-
consciousness, and show how wonderfully different is sense-
perception from thought.

Miss Cobbe's remarks on this matter may be here referred
to. She says of music-playing : —

" Here we seem not to have one alone, but a dozen. Two different
sets of hieroglyphics have to be read at once, and the right hand has
to be guided to attend to one of them, the left to another. All the ten
fingers have their work assigned as quickly as they can move. The
mind — or something which does duty as mind — interprets scores of
A sharps, and B flats and C naturals into black ivory keys and white
ones; crotchets and quavers and demisemiquavers, rests, and all the
mysteries of music. The feet are not idle, but have something to do
with the pedals ; and if the instrument be a double-action harp (or an
organ), a task of pushings and pullings more difficult than that of the
hands. And all this time the performer — the conscious performer — is
in the seventh heaven of artistic rapture at the results of all this tre
mendous business, or perchance lost in a flirtation with the individual
who turns the leaves of the music-book, and is justly persuaded she is
giving him the whole of her soul." — (See Macmillan's Magazine, No
vember 1870, p. 26.)

We could hardly wish for a stronger instance of how
sensations may coalesce and become agglutinated together in

* See ' Medical Times ' for July 28th, 1874. This cr.se was cited by Pro
fessor Huxley, at Belfast. See ' Nature,' of September 3rd, 1874, p. 304.

224 LESSONS FROM NATURE. [CHAP. VII.

complex aggregations so as to act independently of intel
ligence. Moreover, even where actions are distinctly at
tended to and deliberately willed, all the several nervous
and muscular acts which condition such actions are performed
unconsciously and involuntarily.

A striking and very complete demonstration of the
difference between sense-perception and thought has been
presented by a distinguished writer in the ' Dublin Review "
as follows : —

"Let it be supposed that I am the spectator of a great battle.
Posted upon the vantage ground of a lofty tower, I see it begin, con
tinue, and come to an end. Early in the morning, whilst the rays of
the summer sun are yet slanting nearly level across the plain below,
one host is coming on and massing its battalions where the slight rise
of the ground meets the sky. Opposite to it is the vast irregular semi
circle of the enemy, half hidden in dips and hollows, one flank resting
upon a wood, and a broad high road running through the centre of
his position. The battle begins with the advance of a strong division
on one side, and a heavy fire of shells from batteries of both the armies.
The advancing forces are met by others; the sharp cracking and
rattling of the rifles mingles with the roar of the cannon ; more forces
engage ; the battle is general all along the line. The noise and tho
smoke confuse the spectator. There is a retreat, advance, flight, first
on one part of the field, then on another. Bodies of troops are broken,
the dead begin to strew the field, and the bearers of the wounded pass
swiftly between the battle and the rear. Brilliant masses of cavalry
thunder down upon bright lines of bayonets, that wither them with far-
reaching death. Officers gallop hither and thither ; the reserves come
up ; shouts as of victory are heard, and with a general advance of one
army, the other is driven back, broken, put to flight, slain, or taken,
until the wave of war seems to pass away over the sky-line from
whence in the morning the attack had been made. The sun sets and
the moon rises upon reek, blood, dead and dying men, plunderers,
slowly vanishing smoke, and what seems like silence. All this scene
I have taken in with my senses. Complicated as it has been, I have
followed it with accuracy, estimated distances and velocities correctly,
and formed a fair impression of what has actually been transacted.
What is more than this, I have that scene with me still, although it is
past never to return. I can recall it on the following day, a year after,
now. And when I recall it, it seems to be the same in its details as
when I saw it. The battle-field comes back to me with its apparent

* See the Number for July 1871, vol. xvii. pp. 26-34.

CHAP. VII.] THE BRUTE. 225

space and breadth— the horizon, the wood, the hollows, and the road.
I realize the colour — the green of the grass and of the springing corn,
with their different shades, the darker wood, the red and the blue of
the massed troops, the glitter of helmet, bayonet, and scabbard, the
flash of sabres, the lightning and black storm of the guns, great and
small. I seem to hear the sounds. The din of roaring culverin and
bursting missile, the noise of men and of horses, the far-off rushing,
audible and desperate, so far away — how clear they come back !
And I distinguish in my fancy all the movements and manoeuvres of
that hard-fought day : the charges, the melees, the retreats, the pur
suits. Many a slight and momentary scene or sound revives — the
gallant rider throwing up his arms as the fatal bullet found him out,
the plumed hat with which the field officer waved on his men, the mad
riderless horse that galloped my way, the wild shriek that once and
again had come up out of the uproar and appalled me. It all remains ;
not perhaps as fresh to-day as it was yesterday, but quite unmistafce-
able; and it is probable that I shall carry it with me to my last
moments. If I lose any of the details I can often recall them by first
of all recalling what preceded or followed— one fragment of the picture
suggests another. And even if I meet with similar details in quite
other scenes, my battle is brought back to my imagination. The
harmless firing of volunteer artillery recalls the fearful volleys of that
day. I cannot see the smoke of a weed fire hanging in the air of a
March afternoon, or watch the mists curling along the sides of a
wooded hill after rain, without having the lurid canopy of that field in
my thought again. When I mount a church tower, and look out over
Yorkshire wold or Cornish moor, I range my armies as they once
stood on another plain far away. The smell of the blue-bells never
fails to make me think of that day, for there was a patch of blue-bells
under the trees by my post of observation. Whenever I see again that
peculiar arrangement of the clouds that marked one moment of the
day, I recollect the tremendous rush of cavalry there was just then.
Nay, if I had reason during the fight to fear for my own life or safety,
there are moments when a tremor of my nerves, proceeding from fear
or ill-health, or from surprise, will carry me back from the midst of a
crowd and from the engrossment of interesting conversation to the
moment when I stood solitary and anxious so long before upon the
tower."

He goes on : —

' Let us suppose that the man who witnessed the battle already
mentioned had lived for several years after it, and neither during its
occurrence nor since had travelled out of the region of impressions
and reproduction described above. And let it be supposed that one
day under circumstances of peculiar quietness and solitude, there
suddenly arose within his mind a rcflection-the reflection, for in-

226 LESSONS FBOM NATURE. [CHAP. VII.

stance, that the battle after all was utterly useless. Surely this is a
step into a higher atmosphere. He did not see that in the battle itself.
' Utility' did not come in through his eyes and ears. It certainly did
not exist in the battle. For the same reason it could not have existed,
and so been impressed on his sense, in any other battle or in any other
incident whatever. Besides, even if it were possible that it had existed
elsewhere, and been caught by the sense, the difficulty would still
remain of accounting for its connection with that particular battle -
connected, be it observed, not as when one sight or sound suggests
another without suggesting a relation, but by a definite process of
affirming the battle to be what it did not at all declare itself to be.
Can a relation or an affirmation be given in sensible impression— in re
iterated shocks of the sense ? This is the deeper question which is forced
upon us. We may leave out of consideration the abstract ' utility ' and
the difficulties attending its origin and application. The question ^is,
Can the sense say anything— make a judgment at all ? Can it furnish
the blank formula of judgment— the ' is,' in ' A is B ' ? The grass of
the battle-field was green, and the sense gave both the grass and the
greenness; but did it affirm that 'the grass is green'? It may be
answered that ' grass ' and 'green ' together form one complex sensible
object, which is an object under space and time, and therefore of
sense.' But against this the rejoinder at once is, that the sense
may indeed take in and report (so to speak) a complex object, but that
in this case the question is, not about the complex object, but about
the complexity of the object. It is one thing to see green ' grass,' and
evidently quite another to affirm the greenness of the grass. The differ
ence is all the difference between seeing two things united and seeing
them as united. It may be further contended that ' grass ' is an object
of sense, and ' greenness ' also is an object of sense, being the remem
brance or revival of a certain frequently-repeated sensation, which, in
order to label it, has been denominated greenness ; and since both the
terms of the judgment are objects of sense, the juxtaposition or com
position of the terms may also be effected by the sense. But the reply
again is evident. ' Green,' in the sense of ' greenness,' cannot have come
from the sense— that is, from any faculty which is impressed only by a
repetition of shocks in space and time : for first, it is not the greenness
of any particular object, but greenness in general ; secondly, it is not
the greenness of all the green objects experienced in the past, but, as is
admitted, a general idea acquired from these, and labelled or named ;
and, thirdly, even if it were the greenness of a particular sensible
object, the sense, as we have already contended, could not have given
it, because the sense only gives ' green.' A further important con
sequence follows. If in the judgment ' the grass is green,' ' green '
cannot have come altogether from sense, then neither can 'grass' have
come altogether from sense. In other words, ' grass ' seen or known
by sense is a different mental object to ' grass ' as the term of an

CHAP. VII.] THE BKUTE. 227

affirmation or judgment. For, in this particular judgment, of what is
' green' affirmed? Of this plant called ' grass.' But ' green ' is a part
of the object ' grass ' as it comes to the sense. The sense knows no
such thing as green and no such thing as grass existing separately,
over against each other, comparably ; it only knows a particular plant
which would not (by hypothesis) be this particular plant at all unless
it were green. And therefore, just as the term ' green ' in the affirma
tion contains in it an element not furnished by sense, so does the other
term 'grass.' It is evident then, that not only must Ave say of a
judgment that the relation it expresses by the word ' is ' cannot have
been furnished by sense-impressions, but we must also say that the
very terms of that relation or judgment must also have been derived
from another source.

" It need hardly be insisted that the terms of this judgment, let
alone the ' is ' of the judgment, are independent of space and time.
Not only so, but they so absolutely exclude and transcend space and
time that to think them under space and time would be to destroy
them. 'Green,' as we have so often said, is not this greenness, but
greenness in general ; but no such thing as greenness in general exists
in rerum natura, or can be conceived to exist. But if greenness be
thought under space (so much) and time (so long) then it is no longer
greenness, but some green thing. And ' grass ' also, in the judgment,
is independent of space and time. For to judge that grass is green
implies, as we have said, a mental separation of this grass from its
greenness; for you cannot compare two things between which no
separation exists.

" But this grass does not exist in space or time separated from its
greenness ; and so far as it is thought under space and time, it actually
is (the same as) green. Therefore as it occurs in the given judgment,
it excludes space and time. And the same reasoning might be made
as strongly in regard to the copula, ' is.' If a brute could think ' is '
brute and man would be brothers. ' Is/ as the copula of a judgment,
implies the mental separation and recombination of two terms that
only exist united in nature, and can therefore never have impressed
the sense except as one thing. And ' is ' considered as a substantive
verb, as in the example ' This man is,' contains in itself the application
of the copula of judgment to the most elementary of all abstractions—
' thing,' or ' something.' Yet if a being has the power of thinking—
' thing,' it has the power of transcending space and time by dividing
or decomposing the phenomenally one. Here is the point where
instinct ends and reason begins."

This author also well remarks* that excess of sensation
paralyses the sense, disintegrating the tissues; but with

* Op. eft. p. 33.

Q 2

228 LESSONS FEOM NATUEE. [CHAP. VII.

regard to the "abstract" no amount of clearness or definite-
ness injures. "The sensible eye may be blinded by light,
but the eye of the mind was never blinded by truth."

The existence of emotion apart from intellectual apprehen
sion need not again be more than adverted to, and little need
be said as to that spontaneous tendency to imitation which at
least most of us possess in some degree. As to this latter
matter, Mr. Darwin remarks : —

" This is exhibited in the most extraordinary manner in certain brain
diseases, especially at the commencement of inflammatory softening of
the brain, and has been called the ' echo sign.' Patients thus affected
imitate, without understanding, every absurd gesture which is made,
and every word which is uttered near them, even in a foreign lan
guage." — See his Expression of the Emotions, p. 356, where he refers to
Dr. Bateman on " Cephalea," 1870, p. 110.

To sum up, then, what our rapid survey has seemed to
teach us about ourselves, it seems we may establish

List of them. „ , , . ... -» ,r • • j_*

the following propositions : Man is a persisting
being, consisting of a complex organism, possessing, besides
the highest psychical powers already enumerated, the follow
ing powers and activities also : —

1. Vegetative powers of nutrition, growth, and reproduction.

2. A power responding to unfelt stimuli by means of

nervous interconnections — reflex action.

3. A power of inadvertently performing appropriate actions

in response to felt stimuli, such actions, termed in
stinctive, being provided for beforehand by the special
organisation of the body.

4. A power of experiencing sensible pleasure and pain.

5. A power of indeliberately perceiving sensible objects,

of which some start or exclamation may be the sign
— sensible perception.

6. A power of effecting the coalescence, agglutination, and

combination of sensations in more or less complex
aggregations, and so simulating inference.

7. A power of automatic or organic memory, which may

exhibit itself in unintellectual imitation.

CHAP. VII.] THE BKUTE. 229

8. A power of responding by appropriate actions to plea

surable and painful sensations and emotions — organic
volition.

9. A power of experiencing vague pleasurable and painful

feelings — emotional sensibility.

10. A power of expressing such feelings by sounds or by
gestures understood by our fellows, and replied to
by corresponding sounds and gestures — emotional
language.

The above ten groups are composed of powers and resulting
actions which may be performed without deliberation and
self-consciousness. For these groups it is necessary that the
soul should sensibly perceive existing things, but it is not
necessary that it should intellectually perceive their exist
ence ; that it should feel itself existing, but not that it should
intellectually recognise its own existence ; that it should feel
relations existing between objects, but not that it should
recognise them as relations ; that it should remember, but
not intentionally seek to recollect; that it should feel
and express emotion, but not that it should intellectually
advert to it ; that it should seek the pleasurable, but not
that it should consciously make such pleasure its deliberate
aim.

We have already seen that the Instinct of animals is
something very different from our developed Keason ; Their reia-
but their highest psychical faculties appear to answer psychical fa-
pretty closely to the above indeliberate human brutes.
faculties, and thus we come to see not only what Instinct
differs from, but also what it resembles.

The remark will here naturally occur to many that reason
is only gradually made manifest in ourselves, and The develop-
that the history of the human individual seems to individual.6
show that the indeliberate faculties may grow into the deli
berate ones, and thus the latter can only be considered as
differing from the former in degree, and not in kind.

To this it may be replied, that one and the same being

230 LESSONS FROM NATUEE. [CHAP. VII.

may most undoubtedly possess faculties of different kinds (as
we possess the power of thought, and also the power of
pressing down by our weight any object on which we stand),
and these different faculties may manifest themselves at dif
ferent time?, some remaining for a season in a latent condi
tion. The fact of our not perceiving at first in the infant the
latent higher powers, may be merely due to the imperfection
of our powers of observation, like our inability to distinguish,
at a certain stage, the embryos of two widely different animals,
which inability no one thinks of advancing as an argument
in favour of their identity in the face of the divergence
which subsequent development makes manifest.

This hypothesis of latency accounts for the facts, since it
allows the recognition of a difference in kind between the
deliberate and the indeliberate faculties. Two faculties are
distinct in kind, it' we may possess the one in perfection with
out thereby implying that we possess the other; and still
more so if the two faculties tend to increase in an inverse
ratio, the perfection of the one being accompanied by a
degradation of the other. Yet this is just the distinction
between the instinctive and the intellectual parts of man's
nature. His instinctive actions are, as all admit, not rational
ones; his rational actions are not instinctive. Even more
than this, we may say the more instinctive are a man's actions
the less are they rational, and vice versa ; and this amounts
to a demonstration that reason has not, and by no possibility
could have been, developed from instinct. In man we have
this inverse ratio between sensation and perception, and in
brutes it is just there where the absence of reason is most
generally admitted (e.g., in insects) that we have the very
summit and perfection of instinct made known to us by the
ant and the bee. That instinct and reason then are so distinct,
is made manifest by the inverse relation existing between the
two. The intensification of sensation diminishes the power
of intellectual action, while intense intellectual pre-occupation
deadens the sensitive faculties. Sir William Hamilton long
ago called attention to this inverse relation ; but when two

CHAP. VII.] THE BKUTE. 231

faculties tend to increase in an inverse ratio, it becomes
unquestionable that the difference between them is one of
kind.

On the other hand, no power may be assumed as latent
unless its existence is subsequently made known in the same
individual, or in others of the same species. We may fairly
assume rational powers to have been latent in an infant that
died a week old, because such powers exist plainly in all men
normally constituted ; but we have no right to assume that
rationality is latent in brutes, because no brute has been
known ever to perform one single action for which the pre
sence in it of faculties like our own indeliberate faculties will
not amply account.

Professor Huxley has lately * made public a thesis which,
as to part of it, sorely needs amplification and ex- Human au.
planation. By reference to a series of interesting tomat181
experiments on mutilated frogs, he supported a view as to
the psychical faculties of brutes which is identical with that
here maintained — the view, namely, that animals are sentient
automata. But he added the expression :—

" Undoubtedly, I do hold that the view I have taken of the relations
between the physical and mental faculties of brutes applies in its
fulness and entirety to man." — Op. cit. p. 366.

Now, by this expression, Professor Huxley may mean,
either (1), simply that men have all the faculties of brutes,
or (2), that they have no more than the faculties of brutes.
But he can hardly mean the first, for it is the merest truism
which no one thinks of denying. Of course, we are conscious
automata, as, equally of course, we have the same vital
powers as cabbages have; nay more, we agree even with
pieces of rock and lumps of clay, in that we are coherent
masses of matter, and not mere loose aggregations, like heaps
of sand. But because we possess the properties of clay or
cabbages, it by no means follows we have not other proper-

* At the meeting of the British Association at Belfast. See ' Nature ' for
September 3rd, 1874, pp. 362-366.

LESSONS FEOM NATURE. [CHAP. VII.

ties also ; and similarly, because we are, as we all know,
sentient, conscious automata, it by no means follows that we
are no more than such automata. The first meaning sug
gested cannot then be his true meaning. Yet the second
meaning seems at least equally open to objection. It is so
open for two reasons : first, because it contradicts the Pro
fessor's express declaration on a former occasion that the
human will does count for something ; secondly, because it
contradicts, as we have seen, the primary and ultimate decla
rations of consciousness. It is all very well to profess not to
care for consequences ; but, after all, the consequence that
otherwise two right lines would have to inclose a space, is a
sufficient reason for asserting the equality of the bases of two
triangles having two equal sides inclosing equal angles.*
There is yet another reason why the Professor cannot have
meant to deny every element of spontaneity to the human will :
namely, because he cites as on his side Calvin, Malebranche,
St. Augustin, and Kant ! But even Calvin never denied free
will in the sense in which it is denied by Mill and Spencer.
He did not deny such power to the natural man, but only to
man in that wwnatural, degraded condition in which, accord
ing to the Calvinistic doctrine respecting " the fall," he now
is. A very able writer in the ' North British Review ' t re
marks that very erroneous opinions are current about the
bearing of Calvinism on that doctrine of Mill, Spencer, and
Huxley called " Determinism :" —

" Determinism and predestination spring from premisses
which lie quite in separate regions of thought." " The pre-
destinarian is obliged by his theology to admit the existence

* Professor Tyndall introduced Professor Huxley to his audience as a man
" perfectly fearless in his utterances." But it may well be asked what has
any one to fear in giving expression to such views as Professor Tyndall
appears to favour ? Surely it is quite opposite views which involve social
persecution, which entail political ostracism and the denial of State aid. No
fear of man need deter any one. If, then, Professor Tyndall refers to " the
fear of the Lord" as that the absence of which is praiseworthy, he selects for
eulogy that which is not proverbially considered as the indication of a great
advance in wisdom.

f For April 1870 : <' The Will and Free-will."

CHAP. VII.] THE BRUTE. 233

of a free will in God, and, as a matter of fact, he does admit
it in the devil." " But the final consideration, which puts a
great gulf between the determinist and the predestinarian, is
this, that the latter asserts the reality of the vulgar notion of
moral desert. Even if he were not obliged by his interpreta
tion of Scripture to assert this, he would be obliged to assert
it in order to help out his doctrine of eternal reprobation."

Keverting to our subject, it seems, at least, that I have
Professor Huxley with me when I assert that there are no
grounds for considering brutes as anything more than sen
tient automata, and thus Instinct becomes, in a certain
degree, intelligible to us through our own lower psychical
faculties. As animals have reflex action, so also have we ; as
animals have direct and indeliberate sentient (i.e., instinctive)
action, so have we ; but that we have also vastly more,
enough, it is hoped, has been said even in this chapter to
make manifest.

But can any further light be thrown upon the nature of
Instinct than that derivable from its comparison with our
lower mental powers ?

Mr. Lewes and Mr. Herbert Spencer agree in entertaining
a very singular view as to Instinct — namely, that it f

* ' Curious

is superior to intelligence, in that either by its ^nsatausre°of
failure it becomes intelligence, or that it is itself Instinct-
" lapsed intelligence." Mr. Spencer, indeed, shortly de
scribes * Instinct as "compound reflex action" — a complex
reflex action, in which sensation intervenes, established by
the " survival of the fittest ;" and, as it becomes more and
more compound, failing to be so ready and decided in its
action, and so becoming " intelligence." Thus, according to
this author, " Reason " is a negative entity — a failure of In
stinct! It may be mentioned, by the way, that, in his
chapter on Instinct, Mr. Spencer shirks considering the most
difficult phenomena, saying not a word of such instincts as
those of ants, termites, and the wasp Sphex.

* ' Psychology,' vol. ii. p. 433.

234 LESSONS FKOM NATUEE. [CHAP. VII.

Mr. Lewes tells* us : —

" In instinct there is not intelligence, but what was once intelligence ;
the specially intelligent character has disappeared in the fixed ten
dency. The action which was tentative, discriminative, has now become

automatic and irresistible The objection will doubtless be

raised that instinct is wholly destitute of the characteristic of intelli
gence in that it has no choice ; its operation is fixed, fatal. The reply
is twofold : in the first place, the objection, so far as it has validity,
applies equally to judgment, where, given the premisses, the conclusion
is fatal, no alternative being open. Axioms, in this sense, are logical
instincts. Thus, the higher intellectual process is on a level with this
process said to be its opposite. And in the second place, the element of
choice always does enter into instinct; although the intelligent dis
crimination of means to ends may be almost absent, it never is entirely.
The guiding sensation which directs the impulse is always selective. If
we restrict intelligence to the logic of signs, to ideas, there cannot of
course be anything intelligent in instinct ; but if we extend it — as we
must — to the logic of feeling, the dispute will cease." — Problems of
Life and Mind, p. 130, note, and p. 141.

Now, this passage is worthy of notice as the latest declara
tion of the Sensist school on this question. But, in the first
place, we affirm that not to restrict intelligence to intellect is
absurd — a contradiction in terms — "ideas" not "feelings"
being the exclusive domain of the intellect. That there is a
logic in feeling — that there is a logic in even unsentient
nature — we are far from denying ; but that logic is not the
logic of the crystal nor of the brute, but of their Creator.
Mr. Lewes evidently here means by " choice " not a deliberate,
self-conscious process, but a direct, indeliberate action, such
as may automatically result from the association of sensible
impressions. Indeliberate actions of this kind are not to be
denied to brutes, but they are not acts of Reason, though
they are often enough made use of by rational beings, just as
digestion and secretion are not acts of " Reason," though they
are acts of a rational being who digests and secretes.

Mr. Lewes's first answer ignores the very main distinction
between Instinct and Reason — namely, the presence of self-
conscious intellectual action in the latter, and its absence in

* The italics are mine.

CHAP. VII.] THE BEUTE. 235

the former. Instinct is " fatal," but Wind ; it does not know
it is compelled, nor see the necessity of its action. Reason is
fatal, but sees ; it does know it is compelled to draw out ex
plicitly in a conclusion the truth implicitly contained in given
premisses, and does see the necessity of intuitive truths, such
as the principle of identity. Moreover, if it can be affirmed
that " Instinct " is " lapsed intelligence," then a conscious,
deliberative, discriminative faculty must once have been exer
cised by wasps, bees, and ants in all such actions as are now
instinctive, and these creatures must once have possessed a
rationality of which the course of ages has deprived them.

Mr. Herbert Spencer's climax is still more curious, as,
according to him, "Reason" is a "failure of Instinct" — an
" imperfect adjustment." So with the increasing adjustment
of " inner relations " to " outer relations," it must tend more
and more to disappear. But will and memory are also
represented by him as transient accompaniments of an in
complete state of such adjustment; and, according to Mr.
Spencer, " feeling " must also disappear, when the adjust
ment becomes perfect, along with memory and reason. The
highest mental condition then, according to this writer,
would be one in which volition, intelligence, memory, and
even feeling, have all disappeared in favour of a " perfect
adjustment." In other words, the most highly-developed
human being would be an absolutely senseless and uncon
scious automaton. This is the "higher" and "nobler" goal
to which the countless pulsations of cosmic forces are sup
posed to be ultimately tending in their integrating and con
structive action ; the object to promote which our most
strenuous and self-denying efforts, and our most fervent
desires, may most worthily be directed.

The views of Mr. Lewes and Mr. Spencer cannot be accepted
by us, if for no other reason than that they gratuitously de
mand us to admit, in bees and ants, faculties for the existence
of which there is no evidence, and without which all their
activities can be sufficiently explained. Quite another cause
than '• lapsed intelligence," or even "lapsed sensible percep-

230 LESSONS FROM NATUEE. [CHAP. VII.

tion and association," is required to account for the actions of
the wasp Sphex, for those of the carpenter bee, and for our
own instinctive actions ; and if " Instinct " is required to ex
plain these, it may equally be used to explain a multitude of
other acts also. The principle once admitted, all is admitted.
But how, then, are we to understand " Instinct ? " what is
what is in- it ? The general notion of Instinct is that of an
imparted peculiar

" impulse urging animals to the performance of certain actions which
are useful to themselves or to their kind, but the use of which
they do not themselves perceive, and their performance of which is a
necessary consequence of their being placed in certain circumstances
and feeling certain sensations." — Todd's Cyclopaedia, vol. iii. p. 3.

We have seen, more or less clearly, what it is not, and by
what essential differences of kind it is distinguishable from
Keason. But its very existence is altogether denied by some
contemporary thinkers, in spite of the manifest peculiarity
of many animal actions, the performance of which cannot be
denied. This denial is perhaps, in part, due to a misappre
hension. Certainly Instinct has no real substantial existence
at all distinct from the life of the animal which exhibits it,
just as "life" itself is nothing substantially distinct from the
creature living. Perhaps, then, the great objection which
many men seem to entertain against the recognition of " In
stinct" as something to be distinguished as existing, and to
be separately considered and treated of, is their idea that by
such consideration and treatment a metaphysical abstraction
is taken for a substantial entity. Now Instinct as Instinct is,
of course, a mere abstraction, and exists only in the mind,
though it exists concretely enough in animal actions of a
special kind. Instinct is, concretely, the animal organism
energizing in certain ways.

Mr. Lewes speaks the language of the true philosophy
when he says : —

" Co-ordination, mind, and life are abstractions : they are realities
in the sense of being drawn from real concretes ; but they are not
realities existing apart from their concretes otherwise than in our con-

CHAP. VII.] THE BKUTE. 237

ception; and to seek their objective substratum we must seek the
concrete objects of which they are the symbols." — Problems of Life and
Mind, vol. i. p. 281.

This is the very teaching of St. Thomas.

All the functions of each brute animal, all instinctive ac
tions included, necessarily go with structure, and vary with
it, structure and function being like the convexities and con
cavities of a curved line, one necessarily accompanying the
other. To explain either thoroughly is to explain both.
The origin of one is necessarily the origin of the other.
Modern science, by its investigations of the simplest
organisms, has abundantly shown that life cannot be a con
sequence of organisation ; but neither need it be a cause, but
an inseparable accompaniment ; life of a particular though
merely sensitive kind emerging from potentiality into
actuality at the very moment that matter assumes a certain
special and definite condition. "Instinct" then, no more
than " structure," can be explained by the survival of the
fittest.

Thus the "instinct" of each animal is an abstraction denot
ing the faculty of performing that group of actions what it is.
which are the inseparable accompaniments of its structure,
as stimulated by sensation. But such " faculty," again, is,
of course, nothing distinct from the " soul " of each animal ;
which soul, once more, has no substantial existence apart
from the living animal itself.

This is not the place to defend the doctrine that the " soul "
of each animal is no mere plexus of physical forces trans
formed by passing through a certain kind of matter so as to
simulate a unity, but is a real, existing, single unity, a single
form of force (so to speak) evoked by concurrent circum
stances from potentiality into actuality. Nevertheless, I
may be permitted to here affirm my belief that this doctrine
is the one which best accords with what science teaches —
the doctrine, namely, that instinct is an abstraction denoting
a particular kind of action of such animal soul.

Concurrent with such doctrine is the view, which I also

23 S LESSONS FROM NATURE. [CHAP. VII.

accept, that the body of each living animal forms a true
unityofeach unity. The opposite notion, entertained by many, is
organism. t|iat eack organjsm js no^ a true unity, but that each

organ, each part of an organ, and each physiological unit has
its own independent life, one not subordinate to a higher
unity ; so that the whole forms a moving equilibrium of
groups, of groups, of groups, of groups of parts. This was
the view which Schwann's famed " cell theory " favoured — a
theory once received, especially in Germany, with an en
thusiasm like that which has greeted the Darwinian theory,
but which is now generally abandoned. Now, a lifeless, moving
equilibrium — such, e.g., as a fountain with a complex arrange
ment of jets — is manifestly but the result of an adjustment of
active physical powers, continuing for a longer or a shorter
period. During its continuance the action of each separate
physical force can be distinctly traced in the result ; there is
no, even apparent, internal principle of cohesion, still less is
there any tendency to reproduction. Every living being, on
the other hand, has manifestly a tendency to undergo a de
finite cycle of changes when exposed to certain fixed condi
tions, such cycle ending with the reappearance of that form
with which it started ; an egg thus ultimately resulting in
the production of another egg, and a seed of another seed.
Moreover, in each organism the various parts are reciprocally
ends and means.

Instead, then, of considering an animal as a congeries of
groups of groups of independently living units, it seems to me
more accordant with reason to consider it as one living whole,
in the life of which each part, in its degree, participates.
Thus the whole organism forms one continuum. For our
convenience as anatomists we actually separate it into parts
in various ways, and we consider it as made up of such parts ;
but, in fact, it is not really made up of parts at all, but is one
whole, locally differentiated in various ways and in varying
degrees. To illustrate my meaning we may recall the fact
that the air-vessels of plants (like the trachea of insects) were
once said to be kept open by means of a spiral filament within

CHAP. VII.] THE BEUTE. 239

them, whereas now it is recognised that there is no such
filament, but that the walls of such tubes are simply, in fact,
but spirally thickened. Similarly, nerve and connective tissue,
bone and cartilage, tendon and muscle, are now recognised
as imperceptibly graduating one into the other, and being
actually continuous — nay, even the very blood merges with,
and is merged with, the solid portions of the body where the
latter are in process of assimilating and increasing. All this,
however, is but natural, seeing that the whole of these parts
are but various differentiations of the primitive germinal
substance.

Once more then, instinct appears to be a faculty of the
feeling, imagining, operating organically, remem- Deflnitionof
bering and automatically acting animal soul, which T
faculty is in most intimate connection with the organisation
of each species, so that upon the recurrence of certain sensa
tions, external or internal, a definite series of actions is
initiated, which, from the beginning of its existence, each
species is specially destined to perform, and for the perform
ance of which its organisation is specially developed. In
short, it is action like reflex action, but which takes place in
consequence of feelings or imaginings. Such instinct, like
the soul, of which it is a faculty, emerges from potentiality to
actuality pari passu with the assumption by matter of the
proximately fit condition ; and if it were possible for us
artificially to construct any given kind of animal, we should
necessarily give rise to the instinct in giving rise to the
structure.

But some of my readers may exclaim — Can such wonder
ful powers be latent in mere brute matter? Is Energyof
it conceivable that the arrangement of matter, in n
whatsoever conditions, should be the occasion of evoking from
potentiality to act a power not only of living and reproducing,
but of feeling, of sensibly cognizing, of forming associations
of sensible images, of connecting therewith various emotions,
and be capable of exhibiting the complex instincts of the ant,
the fidelity of the dog, and the simulation of reason of the

240 LESSONS FEOM NATURE. [CHAP. VII.

elephant ? To such objectors I would reply — How can you
show that your conception of matter as it exists is adequate ?
Matter pure and simple, the materia prima of philosophy,
nowhere exists actually, nor ever did so exist. Every form
of matter known to us, even the simplest, possesses certain
active powers, and is combined with a definite " form." New
combinations and collocations of matter are continually
evoking new forms, presenting to us other powers before
unknown to us. What right, then, has any one to deny the
existence in matter of latent potentialities which experience
and reason combine to show us are now actually there, and,
in all probability, have been latent antecedently? That
matter should show us actions which embody a quasi intel
ligence is the less surprising when we reflect that all nature
teems with such unconscious intelligence. Eeason, order, and
activity pervade the material universe — the mineral as well
as the animal and vegetable kingdoms. But, apart from man,
A new en- sucn reason is in no material being conscious of
itself; and the soul of man is, as we have seen, dif
ferent in kind from the soul of every brute, and may there
fore, as we have also seen, rationally claim another origin.
The resemblance of the unconscious infant (whose instincts
are less developed than those of many new-born beasts)
to a mere animal, is but a superficial one, and results
only from the imperfection of our powers of observation.
That from the first the whole difference is latent, the result
proves. It is like the superficial resemblance of an em
bryonic reptile to an embryonic bird, or even of an embryonic
beast to an embryonic fish. The reptile never is a bird, nor
the beast a fish, though the immature stages of development
are superficially alike.

If the history of mankind is sketched out by that of the
child's development, then we may conclude that man was
never a mere animal. Instinct and Eeason seem to form
two distinct regions — two distinct kinds of activity — whereof
the former serves as the material for the latter. In order
that mere instinctive faculties may become rational, there is

CHAP. VII] THE BRUTE.

needed the introduction from without (as Mr. Lewes well says)
of a new form or force, which is self-conscious, and so can
distinguish itself from what is not itself, and can analyse
both. With this new principle once introduced, mere sensa
tion is transformed into conscious sensibility; the imagi
nation, from being passive, becomes active and creative ;
appetite becomes passion, and attachment friendship. The
association of images prepares the association of ideas. Asso
ciation becomes inference. In a word, from the mere animal,
we have man ; and what was but direct, indeliberate, and
unconscious Instinct, becomes reflex, deliberate, self-conscious
Eeason, with true memory, intelligence, and will.

Science demands that nothing should be deduced from
facts which such facts do not fully warrant ; and if

, ii.,. Grounds of

any phenomena can be explained by one agency the this decisi°»-
existence of which we know, it is quite illegitimate to call
in an additional and hypothetical one. It is here contended
that there is no need whatever to credit brutes with in
tellect; first, because all the phenomena they do exhibit
can be accounted for without it, while they do not exhibit
phenomena characteristic of a rational nature. But besides
this negative argument, a positive one, to the same effect,
may be drawn from facts which constitute an experimental
demonstration: for if the germs of rationality existed in
brutes, those germs would certainly have developed long ere
this, so as to have produced unequivocal evidences of that
faculty during the prodigious lapse of past geological time,
especially if we were to accept the Darwinian practical
infinity of past organic existence.

But in fact a book requires to be written on " the stupidity
of animals." It is required on account of that 0

, * Stupidity of

tendency to exaggerate so-called animal intelligence animals'
(inverted anthropomorphism), and on account of that neglect
of contrary instances, while apparently intelligent actions,
which may be merely accidental coincidences, are eagerly
seized upon.

Acts which would be reckoned as signs of extreme obtuse-

i;

242 LESSONS FROM NATURE. [CiiAr. Ml.

ness and stupidity are common enough amongst animals
usually reckoned as the most intelligent. Mr. Darwin
mentions,* as one proof of the existence of sympathy in
brutes (which no one denies), the familiar fact of a dog flying
at his master's enemy. But in a sudden scuffle it is by no
means unprecedented for a dog to fly at his own master.
After all that author's wonderful tales about the rationality
of crabs and snails it is interesting to read the following ad
mission. He tells us,t on the authority of Mr. Harrison
Weir, that if a pair of birds " which would naturally remain
mated for life be separated for a few weeks during the winter
and matched with other birds, the two when brought together
again rarely, if ever, recognise each other."

But what dog, though he has seen fuel put upon fires
again and again, ever puts on any himself to maintain the
heat he so greatly enjoys ?

Many readers may have had a pet cat who has now and
again got a fish or chicken bone fixed between its back-teeth.
The useless motions the animal makes with its paw are suffi
ciently irrational ; but although the accident may have re
curred again and again it will make the same struggles
against the removal, by its master, of the object which
distresses it, while as soon as it is removed the animal will
go off, licking its jaws, without a sign of gratitude for the
relief afforded. But even that animal reputed the wisest, the
elephant, has, quite recently, in our Zoological Gardens,
given proof of extreme stupidity in actually pulling off the
end of its own trunk (which had got caught in a cord),
instead of waiting till aid came or calling for succour and
assistance before the injury instead of clamouring after it.

It would be easy to multiply instances of conduct, in
animals of all the better-known classes, which if fairly con
sidered are enough to prove the distinction in quality
between the form or force which energizes in each animal
and that which we know to exist in ourselves.

* 'Descent of Man,' vol. i. p. 77. t Op. cit. vol. ii. p. 109.

CHAP. VII.] THE BEUTE. 243

What, tli en, is the conclusion at which we must arrive
with respect to brute animals — even those the most
like us or the most seemingly intelligent ? What
is the lesson which nature seems to teach us in their regard ?

We may, it is here contended, learn from it and the
evidence here adduced two lessons. The first is that in
accepting testimony respecting the psychical characters of
brutes, we should be especially on our guard against a certain
common form of credulity and tendency to exaggeration —
Biological Anthropomorphism. The second lesson is, that
while we have abundant evidence of the sensitive and
imaginative powers of brutes, we have both negative and
positive evidence that the form, or force, which energizes in
the dog, the bee, the elephant, the ant, or the gorilla, is one
which is sentient but not rational — that it feels both plea
sures and pains, but neither knows nor reflects upon the one
or the other. Finally, we may conclude that the instinctive
qualities of the brute may be more or less imperfectly under
stood by means of those lower powers of the human soul
hereinbefore enumerated, which may be performed without
deliberation and reflex self-consciousness, while all the efforts
of the best-informed naturalists who desire to confound the
nature of the brute with that of man but serve to bring out
more forcibly the profound gulf which separates psychically
man and the brute.

R 2

( 244 )

CHAPTER VIII.

LIKENESSES IN ANIMALS AND PLANTS.

" The facts of mimicry and of the various lands of homology as ex
hibited in comparative anatomy, teratology and pathology, reveal an
internal force and dynamic agency, the soul, in each animal, which
forms one indissoluble unity with its material frame."

IN considering the form and structure of animals and plants,
TWO kinds of amongst the different resemblances presented to our
considered, view there are two orders of likeness which it is
intended here to notice.

The first of these orders of resemblance is one which is
merely external ; namely, the likenesses borne by different
animals to others of more or less different nature, to plants
or to inanimate objects, and likenesses borne by plants to
others of more or less different nature or to animals. This
kind of resemblance is termed MIMICKY.

The second of the two orders of resemblance extends to
internal structure, and relates to likenesses of the kind borne
by parts of one animal or plant to parts of other animals or
plants, and it also relates to likenesses borne by one part of
any animal or plant to other parts of the same individual.

First as to Mimicry : " Mimicry " is a close and striking,

yet superficial resemblance borne by some animal

or plant to some perhaps very different object. A

familiar example of mimicry is seen in the bee and spider

orchis, and in clear-winged moths, which may be mistaken

for bees. One of the most perfect examples of mimicry is

afforded by an insect (of the grasshopper and cricket order)

which is called, on account of the appearance it presents, the

CHAP. VIII.] LIKENESSES IN ANIMALS AND PLANTS. 245

" walking leaf ;" since both in form and colour its body so
closely resembles a leaf that it is most difficult of detection
when found amongst real leaves.

Mr. Bates was the first to call attention to the phenomenon
as it exists amongst butterflies, and he may be called the
discoverer of what he named "mimicry." Mr. Wallace, in
his work on ' Natural Selections,' has brought forward* most
interesting examples, serving to show not only the existence
of these strange likenesses but the protecting influence which
they, in many instances, exercise in favour of the creatures
which exhibit them. One of the most complete instances
is that afforded by an Indian butterfly, as to which he
remarks : t —

" But the most wonderful and undoubted case of protective resem
blance which I have ever seen, is that of the common Indian Kallima,
inacJiis, and its Malayan ally Kallima paralecta. The upper surface of
these is very striking and showy, as they are of a large size, and are
adorned with a broad band of rich orange on a deep bluish ground.
The under-side is very variable in colour, so that out of fifty specimens
no two can be found exactly alike, but every one of them will be of
some shade of ash, or brown, or ochre, such as are found among dead,
dry, or decaying leaves. The apex of the upper wings is produced into
an acute point, a very common form in the leaves of tropical shrubs
and trees, and the lower wings are also produced into a short, narrow
tail. Between these two points runs a dark curved line exactly repre
senting the midrib of a leaf, and from this radiate on each side a few
oblique lines, which serve to indicate the lateral veins of a leaf. These
marks are more clearly seen on the outer portion of the base of the
wings, and on the inner side towards the middle and apex ; and it is
very curious to observe how the usual marginal and transverse striae
of the group are here modified and strengthened so as to become
adapted for an imitation of the variation of a leaf. .... But this
resemblance, close as it is, would be of little use if the habits of the
insect did not accord with it. If the butterfly sat upon leaves as upon
flowers, or opened its wings so as to expose the upper surface, or ex
posed and moved its head and antennae as many other butterflies do,
its disguise would be of little avail. We might be sure, however,
from the analogy of many other cases, that the habits of the insect are
such as still further to aid its deceptive garb ; but we are not obliged
to make any such supposition, since I myself had the good fortune to

* Chap. iii. p. 45. t Op. cit. p. 59.

246 LESSONS FKOM NATUEE. [CHAP. VIII.

observe scores of KalUma parahctajn Sumatra, and to capture many
of them, and can vouch for the accuracy of the following detail;
These butterflies frequent dry forests, and fly very swiftly,
were seen to settle on a flower or a green leaf, but were many times
lost sight of in a bush or tree of dead leaves. On such occasions they
were generally searched for in vain; for while gazing intently at the
very spot where one had disappeared, it would often suddenly dart
out, and again vanish twenty or fifty yards further on. On one or two
occasions the insect was detected reposing, and it could then be *
how completely it assimilates itself to the surrounding leaves.
on a nearly upright twig, the wings fitting closely back to back, con
cealing the antenna and head, which are drawn up between then-
bases. The little tails of the hind wing touch the branch and form a
perfect stalk to the leaf, which is supported in its place by the claws of
the middle pair of feet, which are slender and inconspicuous,
irregular outline of the wings gives exactly the perspective effect of a
shrivelled leaf. We thus have size, colour, form, markings, and habits,
all combining together to produce a disguise which may be said to be
absolutely perfect ; and the protection which it affords is sufficiently
indicated by the abundance of the individuals that possess it."

Not only moths, but also beetles imitate bees. Wasps
and objects the most strange are also mimicked by beetles,
such, e.g., as dung and drops of dew. There are also
creatures called bamboo or walking-stick insects, which
present a most striking resemblance to twigs of bamboo.
Concerning these Mr. Wallace tells us :* " Some of these are
a foot long and as thick as one's finger, and their whole
colouring, form, rugosity, and the arrangement of the head,
legs and antenna are such as to render them absolutely
identical in appearance with dry sticks. They bang loosely
about shrubs in the forest, and have the extraordinary habit
of stretching out their legs uusymmetrically, so as to render
the deception more complete."

But there are facts yet more extraordinary. Some insects
which mimic leaves, mimic even the marks made upon
leaves by the ravages of other insects or by mould. As
to this Mr. Wallace further informs us :t "One of these
creatures obtained by myself in Borneo (Ceroxylus laceratus)

Op. cit. i>. 61. t Loc. cit. p. 64.

CUAI-. V11L] LIKENESSES IN ANIMALS AND PLANTS. 247

was covered over with foliaceous excrescences of a clear
olive-green colour, so as exactly to resemble a stick grown
over by a creeping moss or jungermannia. The Dyak who
brought it me assured me it was grown over with moss
although alive, and it was only after a most minute exami
nation that I could convince myself it was not." In speaking
of a leaf-butterfly he tells us that :* " We come to a still
more extraordinary part of the imitation, for we find repre
sentations of leaves in every stage of decay, variously
blotched, and mildewed, and pierced with holes, and in
many cases irregularly covered with powdery black dots,
gathered into patches and spots, so closely resembling the
various kinds of minute fungi that grow on dead leaves, that
it is impossible to avoid thinking at first sight that the
butterflies themselves have been attacked by real fungi."

These facts appeared to me some years ago to be of a nature
which no amount of accidental minute indefinite Nottobee
variations acted on by the destroying agencies ^ch^taf
of nature (inducing the " survival of the fittest ") varlatious-
could possibly account. I then saidf (opposing the Darwinian
hypotheses of the origin of species by natural selection) :
" Now let us suppose that the ancestors of these various
animals were all destitute of the very special protections
they at present possess, as on the Darwinian hypothesis we
must do. Let it also be conceded that small deviations from
the antecedent colouring or form would tend to make some
of their ancestors escape destruction by causing them more
or less frequently to be passed over, or mistaken by their
persecutors. Yet the deviation must, as the event has
shown, in each case be in some definite direction, whether
it be towards some other animal or plant, or towards some
dead organic matter. But as, according to Mr. Darwin's
theory, there is a constant tendency to indefinite variation,
and as the minute incipient variations will be in all directions,

* Op. dt. p. 60.

t ' Genesis of Species' (Mucniilluii), 2nd edition, p 38.

248 LESSONS FROM NATUIiE. [CHAP. V11I.

they must tend to neutralise each other, and at first to form
such unstable modifications that it is difficult, if not im
possible, to see how such indefinite oscillations of insig
nificant beginnings can ever build up a sufficiently appre
ciable resemblance to a leaf, bamboo, or other object, for
' Natural Selection ' to seize upon and perpetuate. This
difficulty is augmented when we consider how necessary it is
that many individuals should be modified simultaneously "
and similarly in order that slightly favourable variations
may hold their own against the overwhelming force and
influence of mere number. A consideration insisted on in
the < North British Keview ' for June 1867, p. 286 ; a con
sideration of which review has compelled Mr. Darwin to
modify his views very importantly, and he has himself
confessed that until reading this article he did not " appre
ciate how rarely single variations, whether slight or strongly
marked, could be perpetuated."

" In these cases of mimicry it seems difficult indeed to
imagine a reason why variations tending in a minute degree
in any special direction should be preserved. All variations
would be preserved which tended to obscure the perception
of an animal by its enemies, whatever direction these varia
tions might take, and the common preservation of conflicting
tendencies would greatly favour their mutual neutralisation
and obliteration, if we may rely on the many cases which
have been brought forward by Mr. Darwin with regard to
domestic animals."

As to the last cited examples of the imitation of mildew,
&c., I added :* " How this double mimicry can importantly
aid in the struggle for life seems puzzling indeed, but much
more so how the first faint beginnings of the imitation of
such injuries in the leaf can be developed in the animal into
such a complete representation of them — a fortiori, how
simultaneous and similar first beginnings of imitations of
such injuries could ever have been developed in several

* Op. cit, p. 41.

CHAP. VIII.] LIKENESSES IN ANIMALS AND PLANTS. 249

individuals, out of utterly indifferent and indeterminate
variations in all conceivable directions."

Further consideration and fresh observation have con
vinced me more and more of the justice of the Thisshown
above remarks. Their justice is however remark- byp'ants-
ably substantiated by the facts concerning mimicry, as it
exists in plants, brought forward* by Mr. Alfred W. Bennett.
These facts concern two kinds of mimicry, one kind relating
to the whole habit and mode of growth of the plants, and the
other referring to the development of some particular organ
or part.

As to the first kind, amongst other instances he refers to
the imitation of Cacti by the Euphorbias, found in Africa.
He says : " Except when they are in flower, it is, indeed,
difficult to believe that these African Euphorlias are not in
reality Cacti: and the resemblance is not merely a general
one ; particular groups, and even species, of African Eu
phorbia imitate particular groups or species of American
Cacti in the form and habit of the stem and the arrangement
of the spines, so that it is almost impossible to distinguish
between them."

As to the second kind of plant mimicry, he mentions that
Kunge, a great authority on ferns, " considered the curious
Stangeria paradoxa a cycad," and that Berthold Seemarm
found in the Sandwich Islands a variety of Solanum Nelsoni,
" which looked for all the world like Thomasia solanacea" a
resemblance as striking as that pointed out by Bates " between
a certain moth and a humming-bird."

The objection that such instances are not parallel to animal
mimicry because not occurring between plants which inhabit
the same area, is rebutted by Mr. Bennett, who brings in
stances to the contrary. Amongst these may be mentioned
the resemblance between the Eucalypti and Mimosas, both
Australian forms, and that between the winged-fruits (each a
" Samara ") of four genera of plants belonging to three dis-

* ^ee ' Popular Science Keview,' January, 1872 p. 1.

250 LESSONS FROM NATURE. [CHAP. Vlli.

tinct natural orders, all large shrubs or trees, and all natives
of Brazil. He says : " Not only the form of the wing,
but its very texture and the arrangement of the veins, are
reproduced most accurately in all the species, a dissection of
the fruit alone showing their essential difference in structure.
So close, indeed, and deceptive is this resemblance when the
plant is not in flower, that the very specimen" from which
Mr. Bennett's drawing is made, " in the Berlin Herbarium, is
labelled by so experienced a botanist as Klotzsch as Securi-
daca; and Walpers, in his ' Kepertorium,' has erroneously
described five species of Seguiera as Securidacas"

Mr. Bennett's verdict as to all such cases of mimicry is to
the effect that " no conjunction of external circumstances
will avail to account for them, whether acting through
natural selection or any other known process."

As to the bee orchis he observes : " It might well be as
sumed that the extraordinary resemblance of the flower of
this singular plant to the body of a bee was designed to
attract these insects to the flower ; but, unhappily for this
theory, the bee orchis appears to be one of the comparatively
small number of plants that are independent of insect agency
for the maturing of their seeds." Yet surely for minute acci
dental variations to have built up such a striking resemblance
to insects we ought to find the preservation of the plant or
the continuance of its race depending on relations between
bees and it. It has indeed been suggested, in opposition to
this contention, that there is no real resemblance, but that the
likeness is "fanciful!" The denial, however, in the interests
of an arbitrary hypothesis, of the fact of a resemblance which
has struck so many observers, reminds one of the French
philosopher's estimate of facts hostile to his theory — " Ta'nt
pis pour les faits !"

It seems, then, that these facts * of mimicry reduce us to
the acceptance of a belief in an innate tendency implanted

* I have a note, which I am unable at this moment to verify, of the occur
rence, near Mentone, of galls simulating cones on a juniper.

CHAP. VIII.] LIKENESSES IN ANIMALS AND PLANTS. 251

in certain races of animals and plants to assume the external
semblance of creatures very different from them — a tendency
the existence of which is to be explained by no mechanical
conceptions, though in many instances the destructive
agencies in nature must tend to keep true and to intensify
such resemblances.

We may now turn to the second order of resemblance
found in animals, i.e., likenesses in internal struc- second order
ture as well as external form — agreements and dif- °
ferences respecting which various very different explanations
have been offered. The real existence, however, of the dif
ferent kinds of resemblance about to be referred to, as facts,
cannot be denied.

In however many directions the human mind sends forth
its energy upon surrounding nature, its activity The number
brings just so many vistas of agreement underlying J^ftlria
difference before its ken. Indeed, as Mr. Lewes StfoSdi
says,* with, perhaps, some exaggeration of expres
sion : " Science is in 110 respect a plain transcript of reality
. . . but ... an ideal construction in which the manifold
relations of reals are taken up and assimilated by the
mind, and there transformed into relations of ideas, so that
the world of sense is changed into the world of thought."
And again he declares :f "What we call laws of nature are
not objective existences, but subjective abstractions." We
say that these expressions are somewhat exaggerated, because
what is the product of the " manifold relations of reals " must
have some real foundation and some objective validity in the
eyes of those who admit, as it seems Mr. Lewes does not, the
known existence of an external world (of more than feelings)
at all. Any one who admits such existence must also admit
that the various ideal entities which are ultimately justified
to reason as true ideals, have their foundation in their agree
ment with real objective existence, " truth " being a relation
between " Being " and " an Intellect."

* • Troblonis of Life and Miud,' vol. i. p. 342. f Op. cit. p. 1500.

252 LESSONS FROM NATUEE. [CHAP. VIII.

The various groups into which animals and plants have
Natural cias- been divided are of this nature, i.e., are ideal
^cation, entities with an objective basis. Classes, orders,
families, genera, and species exist as such only in a mind.
Objectively, there is nothing but individual animals and
plants. Nevertheless, the different biological groups also
exist objectively in those facts of structure which various
individual animals and plants present, and which serve for the
definitions of such different groups. What Mr. Lewes says *
(before quoted) of certain other abstractions applies here
with perfect correctness : " They are realities in the sense
of being drawn from real concretes ; but they are not realities
existing apart from their concretes otherwise than in our con
ception ; and to seek their objective substitution, we must
seek the concrete objects of which they are the symbols."

Natural classification, indeed, though formed by the mind,
does not depend on the mind. It is not arbitrary, but is
governed by the external realities of things. It is not that we
choose to separate bats and whales from birds and fishes re
spectively, and put them both in the same class as that which
contains also the lion and the antelope. We are compelled,
by the multitudinous facts of animal structure, so to separate
and so to class them. Moreover, such zoological classification
is only possible because different animals are found to have
like parts (parts alike as to their relations of position to other
parts) which can be compared and contrasted, and can, by
the agreements and differences they present, furnish us with
the determining and limiting characters of the different
natural groups.

As it is with respect to the various groups of animals and
Of parts and plants, so it is with respect to the parts and organs
which together compose each individual animal or
plant. As the human mind surveys these parts and organs
in different lights, it finds different series of unlikenesses and
likenesses, extending along that line of thought which it

* Op. cit. p. 281.

CHAP. VIII.] LIKENESSES IX ANIMALS AND PLANTS. 253

elects to follow. Here again, however, the resulting groups
of likenesses cannot be freely and arbitrarily established, but
must follow objective reality. It is thus that fanciful notions
which do not respond to the realities of things have to
succumb and give place to conceptions which do harmonize
with such realities.

Every bird and beast, every fish and insect, is formed of a
complex aggregation of parts which are grouped together
into an harmonious interdependency and have a multitude
of relations, amongst themselves, of different kinds. The
mind detects a certain number of these relations as it con
templates the various component parts of any individual
animal in different ways — as it follows up different lines of
thought.

These perceived relations, though subjective as relations,
have nevertheless an objective foundation in real parts, or
conditions of parts, of real wholes, and it is their correspond
ence with such objective foundations which gives to ideal
relations whatever truth they may possess. To detect the
most hidden laws of unity underlying the differences pre
sented by animal structure, is the work of " Philosophical
Anatomy."

Speculative and creative minds, imbued with natural know
ledge, have pursued with avidity this kind of Philosophical
inquiry. While more ordinary minds have been anatomists-
content with observing the facts of animal structure, the
few have ever tried to solve the problems of the " how " and
the " why."

An inquiry of this kind into the nature of the skeleton is
the anatomical question, which has specially occupied Goethe,
Oken, Spix, Cams, De Blainville, Geoffrey St. Hilaire, and
Owen. It may not be uninteresting to consider whether the
attempt to solve such problems is, as so many persons have
come to believe, an altogether vain one ; and if it does not
appear to be a vain pursuit, then to inquire what is the
nature of the answer which reason and observation combine
to furnish.

254 LESSONS FROM NATURE. [CHAP. VIII.

By a singular coincidence, the casual finding of the muti-
The verte- lated skull of a Euminant helped to evolve, inde-
ofthl sCkuu. pendently, from the minds of Goethe and of Oken, full
and distinct conceptions of a new theory of the bony frame
work of the head. Each of these thinkers conceived the idea
that the skull, instead of being (as had been universally sup
posed) an altogether peculiar structure, was in reality similar
in composition to the backbone, or spinal column. The back
bone is made up of a series of rings of bone mutually adjusted,
called vertebras. Goethe and Oken conceived that the skull
was also made up of a series of vertebrae— much altered,
however, as to size and shape, from those which form the
spinal column. This idea, once emitted, was rapidly taken
up by Oken's countrymen (as at later periods they have
vehemently taken up the idea of Schwann and of Darwin) ;
and Spix, Bojanus, and 0. G. Carus further developed and
modified the original idea. Nor did Oken's countrymen by
any means stand alone ; for Do Blainville and Geoffrey St.
Hilaire in France, and Goodsir, Maclise, and Owen in the
British Isles, more or less accepted and modified, in different,
ways, the hypothesis propounded. Oken, indeed, at once
pushed his speculation to extremes : expecting, on a priori
grounds, to find the whole trunk, with its appendages, repre
sented in the head. He was by no means content with assi
milating the skull to the backbone, but insisted on finding
the arms and legs, the hands and feet, even the fingers
and toes, of the head ; imagining that the last-mentioned
members (fingers and toes) were represented by the teeth !
Such a conception may be taken as a good example of those
fanciful notions, before referred to, which, not being sustained
by objective facts, are surely destined, as was this, to die out,
and to disappear.

.The vertebral theory of the skull, in an amended form,
became advocated in England through Professor Owen, and
anatomical science in this country will ever be very deeply
indebted to him for his attempt to familiarise the English
mind with " Philosophical Anatomy," since all must at least

CHAT. VTIL] LIKENESSES IN ANIMALS AND PLANTS. 255

admit that it has been the occasion of an important scientific
advance, through the efforts it occasioned to support, to
modify, or to refute it. According to Professor Owen's
hypothesis, the skull of every backboned animal, from man
to the cod-fish, was really made up of four modified vertebra,
each being provided with an inferior arch, like those which
in the trunk are formed by the ribs. The skeleton of every
existing vertebrate animal was represented as being formed
from some modification of an ideal archetypal skeleton,
which was again represented as composed of a series of ideal
archetypal vertebrae. This notion for a time met with very
general acceptance, but was, ere long, attacked, as being in
consistent with the facts of development. It was said that if
the skull was made up of modified vertebrae, its vertebrate
character should be plainest in its earliest and least modified
stages; and that yet such stages had no resemblance to
vertebra at all. Indeed, it was triumphantly shown that, as
soon as the backbone begins to be a backbone, the skull
begins to be something very different. In fact, that the skull
is never segmented, as is the primitive vertebral column, but
mainly consists, in its earlier stage, of a mass of cartilage,
from which two cartilaginous rods (the trabeculse cranii) ex
tend forwards along the base of the brain-case, quite unlike
anything found in the incipient vertebral column. Yet other
suggestions were made by Professor Seeley and by Mr. Herbert
Spencer, to account mechanically (by the necessary action
of pressure and strains on a frequently flexed, elongated
cylindrical body) for the simultaneous existence of a seg
mented backbone and a non-segmented skull. Finally, a
flood of ridicule and sarcasm was poured on the vertebrate
theory of the skull, and the doctrine of archetypal ideas was
supposed to be once for all disposed of by means of the
hypothesis of evolution. Mr. Darwin's ' Natural Selection '
was lauded as having given the coup de grace to such fancies ;
and, lastly, appeared ' Pangenesis,' to slay the slain, and to
make fortuitous compounds of atoms occupy the vacant
thrones of the deposed prototypal divine ideas. Evolution

256 LESSONS FKOM NATURE. [CHAP. VIII.

seemed to so many persons to have this destructive effect
because, by and through it, similarities existing between the
parts of different animals came to be represented as ex
clusively due to blood-relationship between them. It was no
longer a wonder that the skulls of a monkey and a mud-fish
were essentially similar, if both these animals were the
diverging descendants of some ancient common ancestor.
A distinction had long been recognised, had been plainly

put forth by Professor Owen, between parts which
andVomofo- resembled each other in their function — analogous

parts — and parts which resembled each other in
their position with regard to neighbouring bodily structures
— homologous parts. The wing of the humming-bird and the
wing of the humming-bird hawk-moth are analogous parts—
they perform the same function — as, in a less perfect degree,
does the parachute of the little lizard (Draco volans}. But
the bones which sustain that parachute and the ribs of the
humming-bird are homologous parts— i.e., they have similar
relations of position to neighbouring bodily structures. The
parachute-bones and the wing-bones, on the contrary, are
analogous parts. Such facts of " homology " had been
deemed deep mysteries. No a priori reason could be given
why animals of the most different modes of life should have
been formed on similar patterns. The man, the horse, the
whale, and the bat, all have the pectoral limb — whether arm,
fore-leg, paddle, or wing — formed on one type, diverse as are
the uses to which these limbs are applied. Again, the
butterfly and the shrimp, different as they are in appearance
and mode of life, are constructed on one common plan, of
which they exhibit diverging manifestations. These facts
were recognised as facts, though no explanation of them
could be offered. But they became readily explicable on the
assumption of a blood-relationship, through actual generation
and descent from common ancestors. Here, then, appeared
to be the end of mystery with respect to homology — a ready,
clear and sufficient explanation seemed to have been supplied.
A new definition of homologous parts thus suggested itself.

CHAP. VIII.] LIKENESSES IN ANIMALS AND PLANTS. 257

They might be simply described as parts which resembled
each other, because they were alike descended from one
single part in a remote common ancestor.

Soon, however, investigation rendered necessary further
analysis, with respect to parts said to be homologous.
It came to be recognised that there are likenesses not TueT
between different animals and different parts of the "
same animal, which a theory of common descent cannot ex
plain ; and "similarity in relative position" had to be once
more had recourse to, as a definition of what was meant by
homology, such similarity being, in certain cases, explicable
by " descent," and in others not so explicable.

A very obvious example of likeness not explicable by
" descent " is the familiar one between our right hand and our
left. This likeness is part of that general correspondence
which exists between the right and left sides of most animals,
and which is spoken of as "bilateral symmetry," or lateral
homology. Another example is that likeness which sometimes
exists between parts placed one above another, as between
the upper and lower parts of the tail-fin of most fishes. Such
likeness is an example of " vertical symmetry," or vertical
homology. Another kind of "likeness," or homology, is
termed " serial." It is chiefly in our limbs that this kind of
homology is manifested externally in us, but it is plainly
enough to be seen in the human skeleton (or in that of any
backboned animal), in the ribs or in that series of generally
similar bones (vertebra) which make up the vertebral
column or backbone. Our limbs, however, do present, even
externally, a certain degree of similarity, the thigh, leg, and
foot of the lower limb evidently more or less repeating the
upper arm, arm, and hand of the upper limb.

Mr. Herbert Spencer, in his ' First Principles of Biology,'
attempts to explain these and all facts of structure, Mr Spencer.9
not due to inheritance, by the action upon each exPlanatlons-
organism of its environment. Thus he explains the very
general absence of symmetry between the dorsal and ventral
(upper and lower) surfaces of most animals by the different

258 LESSONS FKOM NA.TUEE. [CHAP. VIII.

conditions to which these two surfaces are respectively ex
posed. But it may be objected that this is no real explana
tion, but a mere restatement of the facts. No reasons have
been given by him showing either how or why each organism
so responds to such external differences of environment, or how
such differences in environment tend to produce such particular
modifications. Mr. Spencer, indeed, beautifully illustrates
that correlation which, however produced, all must admit to
exist between the structure of organisms and their surround
ing conditions, but he quite fails to show that such conditions
are the cause of such structure. His argument is, indeed, an
example of the old fallacy post hoe ergo propter hoe. I
believe the cause to be not external but internal. If
animals and plants respond so readily to the action of ex
ternal incident forces, it must be the case that conditions
exist in such animals and plants which dispose and enable
them so to respond, according to the maxim, Quicquid
recipitur, reeipitur ad inoduin recipientis, as the same rays of
light which bleach a piece of silk blacken nitrate of silver.
If, therefore, we attribute the external forms of organisms to
the action of external conditions, we but remove the difficulty
a step back, since we must conceive an internal power and
tendency occasioning such ready modiQability of structure.
But, indeed, it is not at all easy to see how the influence of
the surface of the ground, or any conceivable similar external
condition or influence, can produce such differences as those
existing between the dorsal and ventral shields of the shell
of a tortoise.

The likenesses, then, which exist between arm and leg, and
between hand and foot, are hardly to be explained by any mere
action of the environment. But serial homology is much better
exemplified in a very different group of animals from back
boned creatures — namely, the group to which all insects,
lobsters, centipedes, leeches, and earth-worms belong — the
group of Annulose animals. In the centipede, the body (ex
cept at its two ends) consists of a longitudinal series of
similar segments. Each segment supports a pair of limbs,

CHAP. VIII.] LIKENESSES IN ANIMALS AND PLANTS. 259

and the appendages of all the segments (except at each end
of the body) are completely alike. In most other creatures
of the Annulose group, the fundamental similarity between
the successive segments of which the body is composed is
more or less disguised. Thus, for example, in the lobster a
number of the anterior segments of the body are united
together into one solid mass, while only in the abdomen (the
so-called tail) do the segments remain distinct. The limbs
also, which at first are all similar, assume, with the develop
ment of the young lobster, different forms and become re
spectively jaws, claw?, legs, and swimming-feet. The peculiar
and strongly marked serial homology of these Annulose
animals has been the subject of an exceedingly ingenious
suggestion by Mr. Herbert Spencer. In his work just re
ferred to he has attempted to explain such serial homologies
thus : — Some animals of a very low grade propagate them
selves by spontaneous fission — one individual spontaneously
dividing, and so becoming two distinct individuals. If
certain creatures found benefit from this process of division
remaining incomplete, they would (on the theory of Natural
Selection) transmit to their posterity a naturally selected
tendency to such incomplete division. It is conceivable that
certain animals might thus have come to assume the form of
a chain of similar segments — i.e., a chain of imperfectly
separated individuals. Such a chain would, of course, in one
kind of animal be the equivalent of a series of perfectly
separated individuals of another kind of animal in which the
process of fission was completely carried through. In other
words, Mr. Spencer would explain the serial homology of
Annulose animals by the supposed coalescence (through im
perfect fission) of organisms of very simple structure, such as
the small aquatic worms called Planarias, in one aggregated,
longitudinal series through the survival of the fittest aggre
gation. This is a very ingenious speculation, yet not only is
there no evidence that Planarise propagate by fission, but
there is positive evidence which directly conflicts with Mr.
Spencer's hypothesis. Mr. Mosely, in his investigations of

s 2

260 LESSONS FKOM NATUEE. [CHAP. VIII.

the land Planarise of India, has brought forward evidence
that a single Planaria is the equivalent not of a segment of
a leech but of a whole leech. Yet a leech is the morpho
logical equivalent of a whole centipede, lobster, or other
higher Annulose animal, and therefore each higher Annulose
animal must be regarded as itself a morphological unit, and
not an aggregation of such units.

Moreover, even lateral, vertical and serial homology do not
independent exhaust the kinds of likeness (homologies) which
Bimiiarities. j^ye arisen independently of descent : for struc
tures are continually being discovered (in animals of different
kinds) so strikingly alike that their resemblance would
naturally be taken, on the theory of evolution, for a sign of
genetic affinity, and yet the circumstances under which they
occur preclude any such explanation. The resemblance
which exists between the ankle-bones of such widely different
animals as frogs, and the small African lemurs, termed
Galagos, may be taken as an example of such uninherited
likeness. In a genus of the frog order (namely, Pelobates),
and in the turtle, a bony expansion covers over that hollow
at the side of the head which is called the " temporal fossa."
A similar expansion has lately been found to exist in ascertain
African animal of the rat order (namely, Lophiomys), though
it exists in no other known beast. The resemblance which
exists between Pelobates, the turtle, and Lophiomys must be
supposed to have been occasioned independently, and not by
inheritance. Again, the African ant-eater, the aard-vark
(Oryeteropus), has each tooth, though apparently simple,
really composed of a closely-set bundle of very fine, long,
cylindrical teeth united together side by side. Such a struc
ture exists in no other genus of the same class, but is found
in the class of fishes — namely, in the skate (Mylidbatis). Yet
the aard-vark can have no special relation of genetic affinity
with these fishes. The shape of the teeth in kangaroos is
similar to that of certain shrew-like, insect-eating African
beasts (of the genus Macroscelides), which also agree with
kangaroos in having the hind-legs and feet much elongated

CHAP. VIII.] LIKENESSES IN ANIMALS AND PLANTS. 261

and a jumping mode of progression; yet this double similarity
is almost evidently induced and not inherited. The only
beasts of burthen known in South America when it was dis
covered by the Spaniards, were the Llamas, animals which
present a singular structure as to the course of their vertebral
arteries which pierce the neck-bones on their inner sides.
The very same condition, however, occurs again in the great
ant-eater, also an inhabitant of South America. Yet it is im
possible to believe that any special affinity, through descent,
can connect such strangely divergent forms. It is also note
worthy that this character can hardly have been due to any
action of " natural or sexual selection." The examples cited
are but a few of many which might be adduced as evidence in
this matter.

It is thus forced upon our attention (alike by the facts
of lateral and serial homology, as well as by Homopiasts
such as those just cited) that there are likenesses pusy.°m<
or homologies which cannot be due to inheritance, and
which have to be distinguished from others which are, or
which may be, so flue. With the new mental conception
came, as was fitting, the new oral expression. We have to
thank Professor Kay Lankester for the introduction of the
terms " homoplasy " and " homoplast," to express such
uninherited resemblance and such resembling parts, as well
as for the antithetical terms " homogeny " and " homogen,"
to express inherited resemblance and the parts which mani
fested it.

For my part, experience more and more convinces me
that the number of similarities which have arisen inde
pendently (i.e., cases of homoplasy) is prodigious, as well
as that very great caution is needed in endeavouring to
discriminate between likenesses which may be due to in
heritance, and those which are due to some other cause.
The elaborate investigations of the first of our English
embryologists (my friend Professor Parker), constantly
make manifest the existence of an apparently inexhaustible
number of complex cross relations between widely different

262 LESSONS FROM NATUEE. [CHAP. VIII.

animals, and show more and more plainly the entangled inter-
dependencies of their structure. The notion, once popular
with Evolutionists, that " similarity of structure " necessarily
implies " genetic affinity," can certainly now be maintained,
as a biological axiom, by no well-informed naturalist.
~ Indeed, the distinction between homogeny and homoplasy
(between the influence of a common descent and that which
produced independent similarity) has its importance mucli
reduced through the power which the latter possesses of
simulating the former. The degree to which homoplasy
can rival homogeny in the degree of likeness produced, is
shown, not only by the instances cited, but also by the
likenesses existing between some of the bones of the skull
in beasts and in osseous fishes. Probably but few naturalists
would now dispute the independent origin of the bones of
the skull in these two classes of animals. Yet their cranial
bones are in many instances indisputably homologous, while
in others their homology is a subject of keen discussion.

If it be asked what is meant by parts being " homolo
gous/' if they are not "homogenetic," it may be replied
that it means they show a complex likeness, or agreement,
as to their relative positions to other surrounding parts.
This likeness, or agreement, may be of different kinds, ac
cording as we follow different lines of thought. An intellect
of a higher order than that of man would probably detect
an indefinite number of relations between two animals and
between their component parts, which relations escape our
observation altogether, though we can readily enough ap
prehend a considerable number of such relations.

Thus we may enumerate as examples of different kinds of

Catalogue of homology I-

homologies. } partg w}1jcn nave ft Similarity Of function but

differ structurally in their relations to all the rest of the
body (i.e., differ in their relative position to the rest of the
body) — e.g., the legs of a lizard and of a lobster.

2. Parts which are similar both as to function and relative
position — e.g., the wings of a bat and of a bird.

CHAP. VIII.] LIKENESSES IN ANIMALS AND PLANTS. 263

3. Parts which, upon the hypothesis of evolution, are
descendants of some ancient similar structure — e.g., the arm
and leg bones of the horse and of the rhinoceros.

4. Parts which are similar as to their mode of origin in
the individuals compared, whatever be their racial genetic
relations — e.g., the occipital skull-bones of a panther and of
a perch.

5. Parts which do not arise similarly in the individuals
compared, whether or not they are the descendants of cor
responding parts in some one common ancestral form — e.g.,
the legs of different kinds of fly — these insects differing
strangely in their modes of attaining their adult structure.

6. Laterally homologous parts.

7. Vertically homologous parts.

8. Serially homologous parts.

(These last three kinds of homology have been already
sufficiently explained.)

9. Parts of the same individual which have a certain
likeness and correspondence though placed at opposite ends
of the body — e.g., buccal and anal chambers.

10. Parts of one individual which repeat each other and
which radiate from a central point — e.g., any two arms of a
star-fish.

11. Parts which agree with each other as being successive
subdivisions or segments of some part or organ — as of a limb
or insect's feeling-organ (antenna) — and which are thus serial
homologues of a subordinate kind, or subordinate serial
homologues.

12. Parts of such subordinate serial homologues, which
parts stand to each other in a secondary serial relation, as,
for example, does the root segment of the leg of a lobster to
the root segment of one of its swimming appendages.

13. Parts which stand to each other in a tertiary serial re
lation as being annexed to such subordinate serial homologues
as stand to each other in a secondary serial relation.

14. Special homologues, which are parts existing in differ
ent animals, but belonging to the same special skeletal eate-

264 LESSONS FKOM NATUKE. [CHAP. VIII.

gonj — as, e.g., the nail of a man's middle toe and the hoof of
a horse's hind foot.

15. General homologues, which are parts belonging to
the same general skeletal category — as, e.g., when we say of a
part that it is a limb, or of another that it is a rib, or of
a third that it is a vertebra. We may distinguish then
different kinds and degrees of relationship, which are
severally perceived according as the mind is directed along
one line of inquiry or another, and whether concerning
different individuals or different parts of the same indi
vidual.

Now I contend that it is against reason to suppose
Not due to that mere indefinite variation, together with the

the survival ' i p -\ r> 11 i 1-1

of the attest. " survival oi the nttest, could ever have built
up all these serial, lateral, and other homologues without
the action of some innate power or tendency so to build up
possessed by the organism itself in each case.

What can be more wonderful than the symmetry of those
lowly but beautiful organisms, the Acanthometree — a sym
metry for which it is difficult to conceive any external
cause. Hardly, if at all, less wonderful is the radial sym
metry of the Echinoderms (the sea-stars, sea-eggs, and sea-
urchins) with their multitudinous variety of component
parts. If, then, internal forces can build up such varied
structures as these, they may well be also capable of pro
ducing the various serial, lateral, and vertical symmetries
which higher animals exhibit.

We may next consider whether there are not other ex
ternal evidences (besides the homologues themselves) of the
existence of such an internal power, by the action of which
these recondite " likenesses " may be conceived to be brought
about. It is here contended that there is good evidence of
the existence of some such special internal power, which
evidence may be gathered from three sources : 1, Compara
tive anatomy; 2, the science of monstrous births, or tera
tology; and 3, the science of diseased structures, or pa
thology.

CHAP. VIII.] LIKENESSES IN ANIMALS AND PLANTS. 265

First, as to comparative anatomy, one example may be
selected where others can be easily adduced, if ^

• Evidences

required. fromcom-

parative

On the hypothesis of evolution, tortoises must be anatomy-
reckoned as very far indeed from being the first and earliest
kinds of quadrupeds. Yet, certain tortoises exhibit the
most extraordinary resemblance and correspondence between
their anterior and posterior limbs. This degree of likeness
and correspondence, then, must be the effect of a spon
taneous development, and cannot be merely due to inherit
ance, because it does not exist in other forms which, upon
evolutionary principles, are more nearly related to the
hypothetical root-forms.

As to teratology, it is notorious that serially homologous
parts tend to be similarly affected — great toes shar- From tera.
ing abnormalities of structure with thumbs, and tology-
ankles with wrists, knees with elbows, and so on. Professor
Burt Wilder has recorded six cases in which both the little
fingers and both the little toes were similarly affected, and one
case in which serial symmetry was alone exhibited, the right
little finger and the right little toe being the only ones
affected. But perhaps the most curious and instructive
instances are those in which the feet of pigeons or fowls are
abnormally feathered, or, as it is termed, furnished with
"boots." These extra feathers are developed along the
very parts of the foot which correspond to (i.e., are serially
homologous with) those parts of the bird's hand which bear
the wing-feathers, so that these " boots " are plainly a serial
repetition of the true wing-feathers. These foot-feathers
have, indeed, been sometimes proved to exceed the wing-
feathers in length. Moreover, the foot-feathers resemble
the true wing-feathers in structure, and are quite unlike the
down which naturally clothes the legs of such birds as
grouse and owls. But there is a more striking correspond
ence still, for in pigeons which are thus " booted " the two

* For others, see ' Genesis of Species,' chap. viii.

LESSONS FROM NATURE. [Ciui'. VIII.

outer digits (toes) become more or less connected by skin,
as is also tho case with the corresponding digits of the
pigeon's hand.

As regards pathology, Sir James Paget has declared,
Kromi.au.- spoukiiig <>f symmetrical diseases, that "a certain
morbid change of structure on one side of tho
body is repeated in the exactly corresponding part of the
opposite side" — i.e., we have a spontaneous manifestation
of lateral homology. In the pelvis of a certain lion affected
with a kind of rheumatism Sir James remarked a deposit
which had formed a pattern more complex and irregular
than tho spots upon a map, while not one spot or lino on
one side failed to be represented with daguerreotype ex
actness on the other. He also considers that parts which
are serially, as well as those which are laterally homologous,
are likely to bo alToeted in a similar manner. Such serially
homologous parts are the back of the hand and the corre
sponding surface of tho foot, and those are likely to be both
modified in tho same manner, as also are the palms and
soles, the elbows and knees, together with the other serially
corresponding parts of the arms and legs.

What explanation can be offered of these phenomena 'i
To say that they exhibit a " nutritional relation," brought
about by a " balancing of forces," is but a statement of the
fact, and affords no explanation of it whatever. Tho changes
are, of course, brought about by a *' nutritional " process, and
the symmetry is undoubtedly tho result of a " balance of
forces ;" but to say so is to allirm a truism. The question
is, what is the cause of this "nutritional balancing?" It
seems impossible not to concede tho existence of an internal
force. If this power be referred, as it seems Mr. Spencer
would refer it, to certain physiological units of which he
imagines each organism to be composed, there must none
tho loss bo recognised an innate power possessed by such
units of inheriting tho elVects of ancestral modification.
It is not easy to see the advantage of Mr. Spencer's reference.
It seems easier, simpler, and more consonant with known

CHAP. VIII.] LIKENES8EB IN ANIMALS AND PLANTS.

facts, to recognise in each organism as a whole (which is
visibly a unity) an innate power, tending to development
of a special kind, though the actual results of the develop
ing force must be modified by the external conditions
which happen to exist in each case during the process of
development.

Amongst the results of the recognition of such innate
powers and tendencies are an increased support to Teleology
and a rehabilitation of " Philosophical Anatomy." With
such recognition, indeed, it is much less difficult than with
out it, to conceive (if " purpose " in nature be recognised at
all) that results which become manifest only at last, and
after complex changes which do not seem to foreshadow them,
may have been latent and pre-ordained from the first.

When " Philosophical Anatomy " fell in general esteem,
in the manner already related, it did not fall alone.

*

Teleology, or the doctrine of final causes, had been
a favourite subject with Professor Owen ; and with Tele
ology, the doctrine of evolution appeared to many to wage a
battle a outranee. It was not that this or that explanation
was disputed ; but the whole conception fell into utter dis-
esteern, and the " purposelessness " of the organic world
became with some persons almost an article of faith, as it
has come to ibrm a special branch of study, with its proper
scientific title of " dysteleology."

This materialistic and atheistic spirit of negation has been,
however, modified, and seems destined to be more affected
hereafter, by that very study which at first came so aptly to
its aid.

The further prosecution of embryological research, so fatal
to " Philosophical Anatomy " in its earlier form, is calculated
to have this anti-materialistic effect. The mazy complexity
of developmental changes, the half-revealed affinities, thus
seen to radiate in all directions, have convinced more than
one of our most eminent observers that no series of hap
hazard changes m thus offered to their ken, but that they
have before them the evidences of an orderly and predeter-

208 LESSONS FKOM NATURE. [CHAP.

mined evolution. One such observer, at least, has been
thus turned from crass materialism, if not to theism, yet to
the belief in a Pantheistic Demiurge ever weaving Protean
matter into structures, the cross relations and affinities of
which are too complex for the sharpest of human observers
to unravel. Thus, time has brought about strange changes.

" Jam redit et Virgo, redeunt Saturnia regna."

From the same professorial chair whence Professor Owen,
Aresunec- in 1849, promulgated his views as to "Philosophical
tion. Anatomy," Professor Huxley, in 1870, gave out in

turn his quasi-vertebral theory of the skull, followed four
years later by Professor Parker. Moreover, Professor Huxley
has not only eloquently proclaimed the complete compati
bility of " Teleology " with " Evolutionism," but even the
utter impotence of the latter to weaken, in however small a
degree, the position of the teleologist. If such results are
admitted by those who are at once zealous evolutionists and
Develop- eminent advocates of the supreme importance of
ment- the study of development, they may well be yet

more apparent to those who, on principle, deny that the
study of development is the one key whereby may be un
locked the mysteries of animal organization. Useful, highly
useful in its degree, as is the study of development, its im
portance seems to me to have been of late somewhat over
estimated. For, in the first place, it is manifest that if our
embryological researches be carried back as far as possible,
we shall not find in the incipient germ any available cha
racters at all, while at later stages diversities in the inter
pretation of nascent structures are almost always possible.
In backboned animals, when the skull begins to assume the
consistence of cartilage, the meaning of the initial changes
of that process must be elucidated through the changes
which take place at subsequent stages. Thus Professor
Huxley has lately * testified, referring to the development of

* See ' Proceedings of the Zoological Society,' for 1874, Part ii. p. 199.

CHAP. VIII.] LIKENESSES IN ANIMALS AND PLANTS. 269

the skull of the American gilled eft, Menobranchus, that, in
his opinion, "No definite answer can be given " to the ques
tion whether the trabeculse " grow into adjacent tissues, as a
tree pushes its roots into the soil," or whether their apparent
extension does not " arise rather from a chondrification of
the pre-existing tissue in the immediate neighbourhood of
the trabecular cartilage ?"

Secondly, when ossification begins to set in, the meaning
of the several ossific centres as they arise must be interpreted
by their later stages, or subsequent adult conditions in the
same animal or in other animals. How else could epiphyses
ever be discriminated from other ossific centres ? Airain,

O "

the circumstance of a bone or cartilage making its appear
ance as a single element may in any case be due to the
junction of its incipiently distinct parts at a period anterior
to possible observation ; in other words, it may be made up
of parts which are called connate — i.e., never distinct to
observation, though judged from analogy to be essentially
compound. Of such rationally inferred, but invisible, distinct
ness, botany offers us a multitude of examples.

The stages passed through by the larvse of moths and
butterflies throw but a doubtful light on their adult con
dition ; and what misleading ideas might not be suggested
by the development of the Sitaris beetle? This insect,
instead of at first appearing in its grub stage, and then after
a time putting on the adult form, is at first active and fur
nished with six legs, two long antenna, and four eyes.
Hatched in the nests of bees, it at first attaches itself to one
of the males, and then crawls, when an opportunity offers,
upon a female bee. When the female bee lays her eggs,
the young Sitaris springs upon them and devours them.
Then, losing its eyes, legs, and ^antennae, it sinks into an
ordinary grub-like form, and feeds on honey, ultimately
undergoing another transformation, re-acquiring its legs and
antennae, and emerging a perfect beetle.

Surely the results of development are as much to be con
sidered as are its earlier stages. I am far indeed from

270 LESSONS FKOM NATUEE. [CHAP. VIIT.

denying that the study of embryology is of great importance,
that the investigation as to " how things become " is a most
interesting and valuable inquiry ; but I deny that it is
all-important.* Aristotle declares the essence of a thing to
be " what it is to be," and the outcome of development is,
to our mind, the important matter. If the apes of the
old world and of the new have descended from radically
different stocks, are they on that account not to be classed
together as apes? If it turns out that birds have come,
not from one but several distinct reptilian sources, are
they not all as much " birds " for all such divergence in

origin ?

My view as to each organism is, that it is, dynamically
considered, a single form or force, which the human mind
is unable to thoroughly comprehend and appreciate. Partial
apprehensions of it are to be obtained by different modes of
study and contemplation — one such mode being the study
of the development of such organism. But a synthesis of all
our modes of study is the necessary preliminary to our ob
taining the least imperfect apprehension which is possible
for us of any animal or plant. We cannot grasp it in its
totality and unity — in its essence — we can only comprehend

* The wide-spread tendency now existing to sacrifice other and more im
portant considerations, to considerations as to origin, is noted by Mr. Morley,
in his work on ' Compromise,' 1874. He tells us (p. 23) : " Curiosity with
reference to origin?, is for various reasons the most marked element among
modern scientific tendencies Character is considered less with refer
ence to its absolute qualities, than as an interesting scene, strewn with
scattered rudiments, survivals, inherited predispositions. Opinions are
counted rather as phenomena to be explained than as matters of truth or
falsehood. Of usages we are beginning, first of all, to think where they came
from, and secondarily, whether they are the most fitting and convenient that
men 'could be got to accept. In the last century, men asked of a belief or a
story, Is it true ? We now ask, How did men come to take it for true ? In
short, the relations among social phenomena which now engage most atten
tion, are relations of original source, rather than those of actual consistency
in theory, and actual fitness in practice. The devotees of the current method
are more concerned with the pedigree and genealogical connections of an idea,
than with its own proper goodness or badness, its strength or its weakness."
The author goes on to show, from his point of view, some of the evils attendant
on this method, such as " its tendency, if uncorrected, to make men shrink
from importing anything like absolute quality into their propositions," and
"to place individual robustness and initiative in the light of superfluities
with which a world that goes by evolution can very well dispense."

CHAP. VIII.] LIKENESSES IN ANIMALS AND PLANTS. 271

it approximative^, as we approach it, intellectually, on as
many different sides as we can, and as nearly as we can.

To return to the question of the vertebral or non-vertebral
nature of the skull : the result of all the contro- Are there

, , . cranial verte-

versy on the subject up to the present time is that bras?
such vertebral nature may be affirmed in one sense and
denied in another, according to the line of thought which is
followed.

The whole body .of every animal with a distinct skull and
backbone exists at first as a rounded, almost structureless
mass of tissue, in which the first clear indication of such
animal is a longitudinal furrow marking the place of the
future spinal marrow and brain. Beneath this furrow, a rod
made up of cells (the chorda dorsalis) comes to lay the
foundation of the future spinal column. From each side of
the groove a fold extends upwards, the two folds being called
the laminsG dorsales, and these folds, meeting together above,
form a canal. It is within that part of the laminee dorsales
which form the spine, that first the cartilages und then the
bones are developed which form the sides of the vertebral
arches. Similarly, it is within that part of the laminte dor-
sales which form the skull that first the cartilages and then
the bones are developed which form the sides of the skull
arches, and thus there is an undeniable similarity between
these two parts. Moreover, in subsequent development, the
bones of the skull — especially in the higher animals — pre
sent a singular reminiscence of vertebrae in the three serially
successive arches which they form. Certainly, if the essence
of vertebrae consists in their being a series of bony rings
fitted together, and enclosing the nervous centres along the
dorsal region of the frame, then it must be asserted that the
skull is in part composed of three bony vertebrae.

In certain fishes the transition from the spinal column to
the skull is so gradual that it is easy to mistake part of that
column for part of the skull. Thus, in the sturgeon, the
cartilaginous representatives of true vertebrae coalesce into
one mass with the cartilaginous skull ; and in the Siluroid

272 LESSONS FEOM NATURE. [CHAP. VIII.

fish Bagrus the bony vertebra next the head are greatly
expanded, and join each other by the same mode of union
(by suture) as do true cranial bones ; and this shows how
undoubted vertebrae may simulate cranial walls.

There are, however, various elements which enter into
the composition of the brain-case (or skull) which do not
enter into that of the spinal-marrow-case (or vertebral
column), and there are differences as to development ; but,
after all, the existence of a remarkable secondary and induced
resemblance between these skeletal parts is undeniable.

As to development, it has always been affirmed that while
the spinal column is essentially, and in almost its earliest
stages, a serially segmented structure, the primitive skull
presents no serial segmentation. It is indeed true that parts
which temporarily or permanently represent in cartilage the
bony skull are never serially segmented; and more than
this, the cartilaginous precursors of the bones on one side
may be completely separated by an interspace of softer
substance from their fellows of the opposite side — a single
fore-and-aft segmentation in the skull thus violently con
trasting with the manifold transverse segmentation of the
spine. But a most interesting point has lately been noticed*
— namely, that in the young eft and Axolotl, before the base
of the future skull has become cartilaginous, an indication of
transverse segmentation is to be traced in the soft tissue of
that region — a proof of what oversights may be committed by
relying too hastily on development as our guide. The con
tinuous chondrification of the base of the skull before ob
served had led to a denial of all fundamental transverse
segmentation of that region by the opponents of the verte
bral theory of the skull, while the assertors of that theory
regarded such continuity as an induced and adaptive mask
ing of a segmentation, visible to the eye of the intellect,
though not to that of the sense. The latter view now turns

* See the Paper before referred to, ' Proc. Zool. Soc.' 1874, p. 196, pi. xxxi.
figs. 1 and 2.

CHAP. VJIL] LIKENESSES IN ANIMALS AND PLANTS. 273

out to have been the right one; and a latent tendency
speculatively divined has now been made palpably evident.
Ho\v many other latent tendencies may not exist which
never render themselves visible ! Might it not be contended
that the ultimate segmentation of the bony cranium of
mammals is one mode of expression, disguised and highly
modified, of such latent earliest tendency to serial- seg
mentation ?

But most striking of all recent phenomena concerning the
vertebral archetype is the return just made by Pro
fessor Huxley * to the conception so long ago advo- Amphioxus'
cated by Professor Owen, that serial segmentation, however
latent and disguised, extended primitively and fundamentally
to quite the anterior end of the head. The first-named
Professor here advocates the view that we have an approxi
mation to the early form of the vertebrate skull in that very
exceptional little fish the Laneelet (Amphioxus), in which
the front end of the body is, like all the rest of it, made up
of a series of similar segments, although the part representing
the bodies of the vertebrae of higher animals is itself unseg-
mented. The general resemblance of the new concrete type
of Professor Huxley to the old type, as exhibited in the well-

* See 'Proceedings of the Royal Society,' No. 157, p. 127. The author's
determination of the homologiea he seeks to establish, rests upon the con
stancy of position of the velum palati which he has selected as Ms fixed point
A certain hesitation in assenting to the new view may be justified by the
absence ;as far as yet known) of the auditory organ in the Amphioxus If
there is one thing which is constant in the verfebrata it is the auditory
capsule, and the figures on the Paper referred to show it relatively largest in
the youngest condition of the Ammoc-setes chosen for comparison. The dis
tribution of the cranial nerves can hardly bo said to afford decisive characters
since as there are myotomes, if nerves are supplied to them laterally from a
central nervous trunk, each nerve must divide into a dorsal and a ventral
branch to supply each muscular segment. Similarly nervous supply must be
sent to the front end of the body ; and if the so-called eye spot of Amphioxus
be an eye-spot, the circumstance that this nerve passes over it, though a
striking fact, is scarcely sufficient to identify it with the ophthalmic divisfou of
the fifth nerve of fishes and higher vertebrates.

The constantly increasing number of instances of the independent origin
of similar structures makes us think it far from impossible that vertebrate
genetic affinity may lie at least as much in the direction of the annelid worms
us in that of the ascidiuns, and that there are hardly as yet data to determine
which of the curious cross relationships exhibited by the Laneelet, are due to
genetic affinity, and which to homoplasy.

274 LESSONS FKOM NATURE. [CHAP. VIII.

known plate of Professor Owen's book on the Archetype of
the Vertebrate Skeleton, is striking enough.

It is none the less true that there are profound differences
between the two conceptions. According to the recently put
forth view, the skull of the higher vertebrates is really made
up of something less than twenty segments, each of which
has a morphological value equivalent to a spinal vertebra
with its annexed parts. Again, the recent conception does
not repose upon a speculative basis, but presents us with a
concrete type instead of an abstract ideal. And yet even
the concrete Amphioxus must be idealised to serve as the
type of vertebrate structure, since though its body is seg
mented as a whole, the central part of the spinal column is
not segmented, but presents, like the embryos of the higher
animals, a continuous chorda dorsalis.

The conception of cranial vertebrae, then, like conceptions
of serial, bilateral, special, and general homology,
The answer. ^ forming parts of " Philosophical Anatomy," are
subjective apprehensions of relations which have an objective
existence in nature. Such conceptions are similar to our
conceptions of " types," the very name of which is dis
tasteful to so many. It is true that types, as types, are not
real objective entities. But though, as types, they are ideal,
they have none the less a basis in reality. The fact that they
have no complete concrete being as types, is no more a reason
for refusing to recognise their existence than is the non-exist
ence objectively of species, as species, a reason for refusing to
recognise the individual realisation of a species or to make use
of zoological and botanical specific names. The acceptance
of the theory of evolution forms no bar to the reception of
that view which represents all organic forms as having been
created according to certain fixed ideal types. The two beliefs,
far from being reciprocally exclusive, can and do co-exist in
perfect harmony in one and the same individual mind.

But have the conceptions of philosophical anatomy any
other existence besides that subjective existence in the human
mind, and that objective foundation in the natural world,

CHAP. VIII.J LIKENESSES IN ANIMALS AND PLANTS. 275

neither of which can be denied ? The answer to this must
depend upon the philosophical system of him who Adec
answers the question, and especially on his accept- iuesfion-
ance of and his mode of conceiving a first cause.

The teaching of what I regard as true philosophy is,
that the types shadowed forth to our intellects by material
existences, are copies of divine originals, and respond to pro
totypal ideas in God. Those who deny the existence of God,
or who deny that we can know anything as to such ex
istence, may, of course, consistently enough deny or doubt
the existence of such prototypal ideas. On the other hand,
the teaching referred to has been ridiculed as if the main-
tainers of it must necessarily either pretend to possess some
far-reaching intellectual power not shared by most natu
ralists, or else assert that the very natural phenomena were
themselves sufficient to make manifest such transcendent
conceptions. But, in fact, the acceptance of such prototypal
ideas follows as a consequence, not upon the investigation of
irrational nature considered by itself, but upon its investiga
tion considered as a portion of one great whole, of which the
human mind, endowed with intelligence and free-will, forms
a part, and which is consequently to be viewed as the creation
of God. Let the idea of God be once accepted, and then it
becomes simply a truism to say that the mind of the Deity
contains all that exists in the human mind, and infinitely
more. Thus it is that such hmmm conceptions, gathered
from nature, must, so considered, be asserted to be ideas in
the divine mind also, just as every separate individual that
has been, is, or shall be, is present to the same mind. Nay,
more, such human conceptions can be but faint and obscure
adumbrations of corresponding ideas which must exist in
perfection and in fulness in the mind of God.

We have seen that even by viewing organisms from all
the points of view possible to us, we can but attain to a verv
imperfect comprehension of such organisms. But the wider
and wider generalizations of broader and better-informed
minds continually advance our power of comprehension. AH

T 2

276 LESSONS FROM NATURE. [CHAP. VIII.

then who admit that the natural world is the product of a
divine mind must also admit, since such mind is infinitely
above all human minds, that it possesses in perfection what
the most perfectly developed human minds possess, as it
were, in germ.

Thus viewed, the questions of philosophical anatomy acquire
a fresh value, and it becomes plain that we owe a debt of
gratitude to those who, years ago, forced questions such as
these upon willing and unwilling ears. Not less plain is
the justification which the most modern views afford them.
Platonic and Peripatetic conceptions are far indeed from
having been overthrown by the rising tide of a revived
Ionian philosophy — a flood of which has slightly covered part
of our land, and deeply submerged Germany. Philosophical
anatomy, types, divine prototypal ideas are one by one
emerging and reappearing, refreshed and invigorated by the
bath of Darwinian Evolutionism through which they have
been made to pass. It is again becoming manifest that
nature, when broadly surveyed, confirms and accords with
the speculations of philosophy, though never without a
certain want of minute agreement ; so opening fresh vistas
which invite the intellect to further advance and to the
solution of more and more recondite problems which it is the
task of philosophical anatomy perpetually to strive after, to
elucidate in part, but never, in this life, exhaustively to solve.

The existence, then, of these various homologies, serial,
Homoiogy lateral, &c., render it plain to any one who ponders
nai forces, over them that there is in each individual animal
a peculiar form or energy which actually results in the
complex phenomena above described. And just as species
and genera do not exist as species and genera except men
tally, and yet really exist objectively in those individual
characteristics which furnish specific and generic characters ;
just so the peculiar force referred to may be spoken of as
that of the species, though of course it has no existence really
except in the organic activities of the individuals which
compose such species. To adopt, for illustration, the mode

CHAP VIII.] LIKENESSES IN ANIMALS AND PLANTS. 277

of speech now current respecting force and its so-called
"transformations," it may be said that the cosraical forces of
all kinds unite and " transform " themselves in each living
creature into a single force which, regarded abstractedly,
may be said to be the dynamical side of such creature.

If we use the mode of speech of an older philosophy, we
may say that the active powers of the cosmos exer- or-soui-in
cising themselves upon matter in a duly prepared eachanimal-
condition, evolve from a latent potential state, into active,
temporary existence, a peculiar active power, the " soul " of
an individual animal or plant, which endures as long as and
no longer than the corporeal frame of the organism preserves
its due integrity, that integrity and that activity necessarily
arising, co-existing, varying and disappearing together, like
the convexities and concavities of a vessel of blown glass. It
has been urged in the preceding chapter that the body of
each living animal is really a unity, a continuum, one living
whole. Congruous with this conception is the belief that
the active force of each living animal is really a unity, one
indivisible whole — that it is not a plexus of different forces
temporarily aggregated, but a single form of force resulting
for a time from the play of all other forces, and destined to
disappear when, simultaneously with such disappearance, the
active powers of the various substances into which the
animal's body decomposes show themselves again as the
various chemical and other physical forces which are the
activities of the substances into which the body dissolves.

The reasonableness of this view is corroborated by some
excellent remarks made by Mr. Lewes on a kindred
subject. It is commonly asserted that substances
such as oxygen and hydrogen in water really persist, though
seeming to have disappeared, and their reappearance on the
dissolution of water is held to be a proof of their never having
ceased to exist. This view (which Mr. Lewes disputes) may
be said to be a parallel view to that which represents an
apparently single force (a living animal) to be not what it
appears to be, but, instead, a mere plexus of physical forces.

278 LESSONS FKOM NATDKE. [CHAI-. VIII.

And this latter view may be disputed by considerations similar
to those put forward by Mr. Lewies. That writer says :*—

" What is the plain inference from sensible experience ? It is that
both oxygen and hydrogen have in combination lost all their specific
qualities, and have acquired new qualities. They have not only lost
that amount of molecular agitation which kept them in their gaseous
state, they have lost those qualities, or modes of reaction, which dis
tinguished them from other gases and solids. The oxygen will not now
oxidize, the hydrogen will not flame. If this is not destruction,
destruction has no meaning ; if this is not change, nothing is change
able. Theory declares that the oxygen has not changed; and fact
declares that the oxygen has utterly changed. Theory infers that
oxygen is indestructible, in spite of the fact that oxygen has been
destroyed The surprising recovery of all the original cha
racters, after the clement has undergone a multiplicity of changes
destructive of those characters, is supposed to prove that what is thus
recovered could not have been lost. Hence the conclusion is drawn
that throughout its apparent changes the clement has really preserved
its integrity. But looked at closely it is seen that all which remains
the same is the possibility of restoration .... that what is now
lost will reappear whenever the requisite conditions of its appearance
are restored. The house will reappear when the bricks are re-arranged."

This is, once more, exactly the scholastic philosophy ; form
or force passes from the active condition ("in actu") to the
condition of possibility ("in potentia") to re -emerge in act,
simultaneously with the acquisition by matter of the condition
proximate for its manifestation.

We may here shortly survey the ground we have as yet
traversed. The course we have already pursued has

Conclusion.

shown us that in each of us there energizes a force
which feels, thinks, remembers and wills — that expresses its
thoughts by external signs, can perceive amongst its percep
tions moral worth, and is essentially the same in all men.
Secondly, we have recognised that outside us really exists an
external world, part of which consists of individual, active
wholes— concrete unities, which live (as all plants), or which
live and feel (as the dog and the bee), or which live, feel, and
also think (as man). We have also seen that the force which

* 'Problems of Life nnd Miial,' vol. ii. p. 55.

CHAP. Vi II.] LIKENESSES IN ANIMALS AND PLANTS. 279

energizes in each such irrational sentient being is one (as that
which we know acting in ourselves is one) — a true unity, which
manifests itself besides feeling, in organic activity (growth,
development, and instinct), giving evidence to the intellect of
rational man of deep and mysterious powers and tendencies
(expressed by us as the different kinds of homology and homo-
plasy as well as mimicry), and revealing to the contem
plative mind which has risen to the recognition of a First
Cause the existence of Divine prototypal ideas, capable in
deed of being but very imperfectly apprehended by us, yet
existing as the seminal principles of that teeming world of
animals and plants which affords so vast and inexhaustible a
field for the exercise of our delight and admiration as well as
of our observing and reasoning energies.

( 280 )

CHAPTER IX.

NATURAL SELECTION.

" The hypothesis of natural selection originally put forward as the
origin of species has been really abandoned by Mr. Darwin himself,
and is iintenable. It is a misleading positive term denoting negative
effects, and as made use of by those who would attribute to it the
origin of Man, is an irrational conception."

AT the close of the preceding chapter, the outcome was
Futmty of glanced at of those lessons which had already been
ia£orepinte?- gathered from nature. They were recognised as
teaching that there exists in each animal and plant
a unity of force corresponding with its unity of frame, each
living organism manifesting, by unmistakable external signs,
the presence of such internal power the mysterious nature of
which it was sought to bring home by a consideration of those
deep-lying tendenc-ies revealed in the facts of serial and
other homology.

This notion of an " internal force " is very repugnant to
some contemporary writers. But it is absolutely impossible
to get rid of the idea of innate powers and tendencies the
existence of which is everywhere manifested, not only in the
organic world but in the inorganic world also. To conceive
the universe as consisting of atoms acted on by external
forces but having in themselves no power of coherence or
response to such external actions, is a manifest absurdity.
No one thing can act on any other, except that in such other
there is an innate capacity of being acted on. Mr. Herbert
Spencer conceives each animal as being built up of a multi
tude of " physiological units," each of which is credited with

CHAP. IX.] NATURAL SELECTION. 281

" an innate tendency " to evolve the parent form from which
it sprang. Mr. Darwin conceives each animal and plant to
be built up of a number of " gemmules," each gemraule being
the seat of powers, special tendencies and elective affinities
of a most complex kind. In fact, as Mr. Lewes says, we have
thus " the very power which was pronounced mysterious in
larger organisms." It seems, as before said, simpler and far
more natural to regard each animal as the seat of one
governing force than as itself made up of a number of living
creatures so minute as to be invisible to the highest power of
the microscope, and each animated by a governing force of
its own. Surely this is to multiply difficulties of conception
against both sense and reason alike.

The great question as to how the different kinds of animals
and plants which now people this planet first arose Ori in of
has been answered at various times in various wavs. sv<%ies> the

•J tlUlilOr a

My own view has been expressed as follows :* — view-

" It is quite conceivable that the material organic world may be so
constituted that the simultaneous action upon it of all known forces,
mechanical, physical, chemical, magnetic, terrestrial, and cosmical,
together with other as yet unknown forces — which probably exist, may
result in changes which are harmonious and symmetrical ; just as the
internal nature of vibrating plates causes particles of sand scattered
over them to assume definite and symmetrical figures when made to
oscillate in different ways by the bow of a violin being drawn along
their edges. The results of these combined internal powers and
external influences might be represented under the symbols of complex
series of vibrations (analogous to those of sound or light) forming a
most complex harmony or a display of most varied colours. In such a
way the reparation of local injuries might be symbolized as a filling-up
and completion of an interrupted rhythm. Thus also monstrous
aberrations from typical structure might correspond to a discord, and
sterility from crossing be compared with the darkness resulting from
the interference of waves of light.

" Such symbolism will harmonize with the peculiar reproduction,
before mentioned, of heads in the body of certain annelids, with the
facts of serial homology, as well as those of bilateral and vertical sym
metry. Also, as the atoms of a resonant body may be made to give
out sound by the juxtaposition of a vibrating tuning-fork, so it is con-

' Genesis of Species,' 2nd edition, p. 261.

282 LESSONS FEOM NATUKE. [CHAP. IX.

ceivable that the physiological units of a living organism may be so
influenced by surrounding conditions (organic and other) that the
accumulation of these conditions may upset the previous rhythm of
such units, producing modifications in them — a fresh chord in the
harmony of nature — a new species !"

For the arguments by which this view is supported and
antagonistic hypotheses contested, the reader is referred to
the work from which the passage just quoted has been
taken. Here it can be only incidentally defended, yet
one passing remark may be now made. That characters
of importance suddenly appearing are not really unlikely to
persist, is confirmed by an observation made by Mr. Darwin
himself, who tells us (in his ' Descent of Man,' vol. i. p. 233) :
" When any character lias suddenly appeared in a race
or species as the result of a single act of variation ....
and this race is crossed with another not thus characterized,
the characters in question do not commonly appear in a
blended condition in the young, but are transmitted to them
either perfectly developed or not at all."

The view of specific genesis whicli I support, though
arrived at in complete independence, is more or less similar
to that enunciated fifteen years ago by Professor Theophilus
Parsons, of Harvard University in the United States. It also
agrees in many respects with the views advocated by Pro
fessor Owen in the last volume of the ' Anatomy of Verte
brates,' under the term " derivation." He there says :
" Derivation holds that every species changes in time, by
virtue of inherent tendencies thereto."

Mr. Darwin, as every one knows, has attempted to account

Mr. Darwin's for the appearance of new forms of animals and

plants by a certain special process called by him

" Natural Selection ;" an hypothesis which may be thus

shortly stated : —

Every organism tends to multiply geometrically and to
transmit a general likeness, with individual differences, to its
offspring. No two individuals are quite alike. Past time is
practically infinite. Each individual which survives to breed

CHAP. IX.] NATUHAL SELECTION. 283

dues so through circumstances which favour him by enabling
him to escape the destructive agencies of nature. Thus
happy variations cause survival and transmission, and thus
new species result from survival of which are the fittest to
live, as shown by the event. The title of his well-known
book is : ' On the Origin of Species by Means of Natural
Selection.' This is equally the title of the last edition as
of the first, and the words "fo/ means of" appear in each
case. At the end of the Introduction of the first edition he
says : " 1 am convinced that natural selection has been the
main, but not the exclusive means of modification." In the
last edition he says : " I am convinced that natural selection has
been the most important, but not the exclusive means of modi
fication." Before the appearance of the last edition, however,
Mr. Darwin published his 'Descent of Man ;' and a consideration
of tiiis last work in conjunction with his ' Origin of Species'
will afford the best means of considering his whole position.
It can by such a proceeding be seen what, if any, modifica
tions have taken place in his views, and the value of his
judgment may, it is obvious, be most fairly estimated by
examining his own declarations with respect to his earlier
beliefs and assertions.

Our attention, then, may first be directed to his earlier
statements, in order that we may see whether he has modified
his views, and, if so, how far and with what results. If he
has, even by his own showing and admission, been over-hasty
and seriously mistaken previously, we must be the more
careful how we commit ourselves to his guidance now. It
is here contended that Mr. Darwin's convictions have under
gone grave modifications, and that the opinions adopted by
him now are quite distinct from, and even subversive of, the
views he originally put forth. The assignment of the law
of " natural selection " to a subordinate position is virtually
an abandonment of the Darwinian theory ; for the one dis
tinguishing feature of that theory was the "most important"
or "main" position assigned to "natural selection." Not
the less, however, may we thank Mr. Darwin for bringing

284 LESSONS FROM NATURE. [CHAP. IX.

forward that theory, and for forcing on men's minds a recog
nition of the probability, if not more, of evolution and of the
certainty of the action of " natural selection." For though
the " survival of the fittest" is a truth which readily presents
itself to any one who considers the subject ; and though its
converse, the destruction of the least fit, was recognised
thousands of years ago, yet to Mr. Darwin, and (through Mr.
Wallace's reticence) to Mr. Darwin alone, is due the credit
of having first brought it prominently forward and demon
strated its truth in a volume which will doubtless form a
landmark in the domain of zoological science.

We find even in the third edition of his 'Origin of
Species ' the following passages : " Natural selection can act
only by taking advantage of slight successive variations ;
she can never take a leap, but must advance by short and
slow stages" (p. 21-1). Again he says: "If it could be
demonstrated that any complex organ existed which could
not possibly have been formed by numerous, successive,
slight modifications, my theory would absolutely break down.
But I can find out no such case " (p. 208). He adds : —

" Every detail of structure in every living creature (making some
little allowance for the direct action of physical conditions) may be
viewed, either as having been of special use to some ancestral form,
or as being now of special use to the descendants of this form — either
directly, or indirectly through the complex laws of growth ;" " and if
it could be proved that any structure of any one species had been
formed for the exclusive good of another species, it would annihilate
my theory, for such could not have been produced through natural
selection."

And the words last cited occur on page 1G2 of his very last
edition.

It is almost impossible for Mr. Darwin to have used words
by which more thoroughly to stake the whole of his theory
on the non-existence or non-action of causes equal in efficiency
to natural selection. For why should such a phenomenon
"annihilate his theory?" Because the very essence of his
theory, as at first stated, is to recognise only the con
servation of minute \ variations directly beneficial to the

CHAP. IX.] NATUKAL SELECTION. 285

creature presenting them, by enabling it to obtain food,
escape enemies, and propagate its kind. But once more be
says : —

" We have seen that species at any one period are not indefinitely
variable, and are not linked together by a multitude of intermediate
gradations, partly because the process of natural selection will always
be very slow, and will act, at any one time, only on a very few forms ;
and partly because the very process of natural selection almost implies
the continual supplanting and extinction of preceding and intermediate
gradations." — p. 223.

Such are Mr. Darwin's earlier statements. At present
we read as follows : — HIS later

views

" I now admit, after reading the essay by Nageli on plants, and the
remarks by various authors with respect to animals, more especially
those recently made by Professor Broca, that in the earlier editions of
my ' Origin of Species ' I probably attributed too much to the action of
natural selection or the survival of the fittest I had not for
merly sufficiently considered the existence of many structures which
appear to be, as far as we can judge, neither beneficial nor injurious ;
and this I believe to be one of the greatest oversights as yet detected in
my work." — Descent of Man, vol. i. p. 152.

A still more remarkable admission is that in which he
says of the causes of change in organisms : — •

" We can only say they relate much more closely to the constitution
of the varying organism, than to the nature of the conditions to which
it has been subjected. An unexplained residuum of change, perhaps a
large one, must be left to the assumed action of those unknown agencies,
which occasionally induce strongly marked and abrupt deviations of
structure in our domestic productions." — vol. i. p. 154.

But perhaps the most glaring contradiction is presented by
the following passage : —

" No doubt man, as well as every other animal, presents structures
which, as far as we can judge with our little knowledge, are not now
of any service to him, nor have been so during any former period of
his existence, either in relation to his general conditions of life, or of
one sex to the other. Such structures cannot be accounted for by amj
form of selection, or by the inherited effects of the use and disuse of
parts. We know, however, that many strange and strongly marked
peculiarities of structure occasionally appear in our domesticated pro
ductions ; and if the unknown caiises which produce them were to act

286 LESSONS FKOM NATURE. [CHAP. IX.

more uniformly, they would probably become common to all the indi
viduals of the species." — vol. ii. p. 387.

Mr. Darwin, indeed, seems now to admit the existence of
internal, innate powers, for lie goes on to say : —

" We may hope hereafter to understand something about the causes
of such occasional modifications, especially through the study of mon
strosities In the greater number of cases we can only say

that the cause of each slight variation and of each monstrosity lies
much more in t?<e nature or constitution of the organism, than in the
nature of the surrounding conditions ; though new and changed con
ditions certainly play an important pal«t in exciting organic changes of
all kinds."

Mr. Darwin even admits the existence of different innate
laws in different species. He says (vol. ii. p. 177), " That
the degree of limitation should differ in different species of
the same group will not surprise any one who lias studied
the laws of inheritance, for they are so complex that they
appear to us in our ignorance to be capricious in their
action."

He also says, as to the disappearance of juvenile stripes
and markings in adult pigs and tapirs: "But whether this
change was effected through sexual or natural selection, or
was due to the direct action of the conditions of life or some
other unknown cause, it is impossible to decide."

Also, in a note (vol. i. p. 223), he speaks of " incidental
results of certain unknown differences in the constitution of
the reproductive system."

Thus, then, it is admitted by our author that we may have
" abrupt, strongly marked " changes, '•' neither beneficial nor
injurious " to the creatures possessing them, produced " by
unknown agencies " lying deep in " the nature or constitution
of the organism," and which, if acting uniformly, would
"probably" modify similarly "all the individuals of a
species." If this is not an abandonment of " natural se
lection," it would be difficult to find terms more cal
culated to express it. But Mr. Darwin's admissions of
error do not stop here. In the fifth edition of his ' Origin

CHAP. IX.] NATUBAL SELECTION. 287

•

of Species' (p. 104) he says, "Until reading an article in
the ' North British Eeview ' (18G7), I did not appre- and admlt.
ciate how rarely single variations, whether slight or ted errors-
strongly marked, could be perpetuated." Again: he was
formerly "inclined to lay much stress on the principle of
protection, as accounting for the less bright colours of female
birds " (' Descent of Man,' vol. i. p. 198) ; but now he speaks
as if the correctness of his old conception of such colours
being due to protection was unlikely. " Is it probable," he
asks, " that the head of the female chaffinch, the crimson on
the breast of the female bullfinch, the green of the female
chaffinch, the crest of the female golden-crested wren, have
all been rendered less bright by the slow process of selection
for the sake of protection ? I cannot think so " [the italics
are mine]. (Vol. ii. p. 176.)

Once more Mr. Darwin shows us (vol. i. p. 125) how he has
been over-hasty in attributing the development of certain
structures to reversion. He remarks, " In my * Variations of
Animals under Domestication ' (vol. ii. p. 57) I attributed
the not very rare cases of supernumerary mammas in women
to reversion." " But Professor Preyer states that mammse
erraticee have been known to occur on the back ; so that the
force of my argument is greatly weakened or perhaps quite
destroyed."

Finally, we have a postscript in the second volume of the
' Descent of Man ' which contains an avowal more remark
able than even what has been cited. He therein declares : —

" I have fallen into serious and unfortunate error, in relation to the
sexual differences of animals, in attempting to explain what seemed to
me a singular coincidence in the late period of life at which the neces
sary variations have arisen in many cases, and the late period at which
sexual selection acts. The explanation given is wholly erroneous, as I
have discovered by working out an illustration in figures."

It would be idle to dissemble, and disingenuous not to
declare, the amount of distrust with which such consequent

. need of care-

repeated over-hasty conclusions and erroneous cal- fui criticism.

culations should properly inspire his readers. When then

288 LESSONS FROM NATURE. [CHAP. IX.

Mr. Darwin comes before them anew (as he does in his
' Descent of Man '), with opinions and conclusions still more
startling, and calculated, in a yet greater degree, to disturb
convictions reposing upon the general consent of the majority
of cultivated men, we may well pause before we trust our
selves unreservedly to a guidance which thus again and again
declares its own reiterated fallibility. Mr. Darwin's con
clusions may be correct, but we feel we have now indeed a
light to demand that they shall be proved before we assent
to them ; and that since what Mr. Darwin before declared
*• must be," he now admits not only to be unnecessary
but untrue, we may justly regard with extreme distrust
the multitude of his statements and calculations which
are recommended by a mere " may be." This is the more
necessary, as the Author, starting at first with an avowed
hypothesis, constantly asserts it as an undoubted fact,
and claims for it, in the spirit of an evangelical preacher
rather than of a philosopher, that it should be received
as an article of faith though incapable of proof. Thus
the formidable objection to Mr. Darwin's theory, that the
great break in the organic chain between man and his
nearest allies, which cannot be bridged over by any extinct
or living species, is answered simply by an appeal " to a
belief in the general principle of evolution " (vol. i. p. 200),
or by a confident statement that " we have every reason to
believe that breaks in the series are simply the result of many
forms having become extinct " (vol. i. p. 187), though the
reasons are not given. So, in like manner, we are assured
that " the early progenitors of man were, no doubt, once
covered with hair, both sexes having beards ; their ears
were pointed and capable of movement ; and their bodies
were provided with a tail, having the proper muscles." And,
finally, we are told, with a dogmatism little worthy of a
philosopher, that, " unless we wilfully close our eyes" we must
recognise our parentage (vol. i. p. 213).

To criticisms such as the foregoing, as expressed in
' Genesis of Species ' and in the ' Quarterly Review,' Pro-

CHAP. IX.] NATURAL SELECTION. 289

fessor Huxley has replied in his paper on "Mr. Darwin's
critics" in the 'Contemporary Eeview' for No- Professor
vember 1871. 2££"

In that article Professor Huxley does not so much dispute
the truth of the foregoing conclusions concerning the Origin
of Species as deny their distinctness from those at which
Mr. Darwin himself has arrived, or indeed originally put
forth, asserting that my view of Specific Genesis is but " an
iteration of the fundamental principle of Darwinism."

I may be pardoned then if I shortly endeavour to show more
distinctly wherein my view radically differs from that first
propounded by Mr. Darwin, and still maintained, or at least
not distinctly repudiated by him ; though the admissions he
has of late made amount to a virtual, but certainly not to an
explicit, abandonment of his theory.

The Professor expresses his doubt as to the existence of
an "absolute and pure Darwinian" — a doubt which was
certainly surprising, as he had been always understood as
guarding himself carefully against the identification of his
own views with those of Mr. Darwin, and as allowing that it
was one thing to hold the doctrine of evolution and another
to accept the Darwinian hypothesis. In a lecture* delivered
in 1868 at the Royal Institution, he observed, "I can testify,
from personal experience, it is possible to have a complete
faith in the general doctrine of evolution, and yet to hesitate
in accepting the Nebular, or the Uniformitarian, or the
Darwinian hypotheses in all their integrity and fulness."

It is plain then that at a recent period Professor Huxley
distinguished himself from thorough-going disciples of Mr.
Darwin ; implying by this distinction a recognition of the
existence of such disciples, pure Darwinians, like those of
whom he in his paper ignores the existence.

The very essence of Mr. Darwin's theory as to the " origin
of species" was, the paramount action of the destructive
powers of nature over any direct tendency to vary in any

* See 'Proceedings of the Royal Institution,' vol. v. p. 279.

U

290 LESSONS FROM NATURE. [CHAP. TX.

certain and definite line, whether such direct tendency
resulted mainly from internal predisposing or external ex
citing causes.

The benefit of the individual in the struggle for life was
announced as the one determining agent, fixing slight bene
ficial variations into enduring characters, and the evolution
of species by such agency is justly and properly to be termed
formation by " natural selection."

That in this Mr. Darwin is not misrepresented is evident
from his own words before quoted :

" If it could be demonstrated that any complex organ existed, which
could not possibly have been formed by numerous, successive, slight
modifications, my theory would absolutely break down."* Also :
" Every detail of structure in every living creature (making some little
allowance for the direct action of physical conditions) may be viewed,
either as having been of special use to some ancestral 'form, or as being
now of special use to the descendants of this form — either directly, or
indirectly, through the complex laws of growth ;" and " if it could be
proved that any part of the structure of any one species had been
formed for the exclusive good of another species, it would annihilate
my theory, for such could not have been produced by natural selec
tion." f

I repeat, emphatically, Mr. Darwin could hardly have
employed words by which more thoroughly to stake the
whole of his theory on the non-existence or non-action of
causes of any such importance as that assigned by him to
natural selection. For why, we may ask once more, should
such a phenomenon "annihilate his theory"? Because the
very essence of his theory, as originally put forth, is, as
before said, to recognise only the conservation of slight
variations directly beneficial to the creature presenting them,
by enabling it to obtain food, escape enemies, and propagate
its kind.

Such being the case, my object was to show not only that
" natural selection " is inadequate to the task assigned it, but

* ' Origin of Species,' p. 208.
t Op. cit. p. 220.

CHAP. IX.] NATUEAL SELECTION. 291

that there is much positive evidence of the direct action both
of external influences sufficient to dominate and overpower
in certain instances the ordinary processes of " natural selec
tion," and also of still more influential internal powers ; more
over, that these latter powers are so efficient as to present
themselves as probably the main determining agent in specific
evolution, although it was admitted that a certain subordinate
action of natural selection plainly obtained.

The various arguments advanced space does not now allow
the reproduction of, but referring to the ' Genesis of Species,'
it may here be pointed out that therein the object aimed at
was to show : —

1 . That no mere survival of the fittest accidental variations
can account for the incipient stages of structures Points con-
useful enough when once developed. Such, e. g., the author.
as the whalebone of the whale's mouth, the larynx of the
kangaroo, pedicellariee and bird's-head processes, and many
other structures.

2. That the sexual colours of apes, the beauty of shell
fish, and the complex mechanisms by which fertilisation is
effected in many orchids, are quite beyond the power of
natural selection to develop.

3. That modes of formation, such as in the human eye
and ear, in that they spring from simultaneous and con
current modifications of distinct parts, have a remarkable
significance.

4. That the independent origin of similar structures in
very different animal forms should be noted, and evidence was
adduced to show that similar modifications are sometimes
directly induced by obscure external conditions, as in the
sudden acclimatisation of English greyhounds in Mexico,
and in the loss of the tail in certain butterflies of certain re
gions, and in the direct modification of young English oysters
when transported to the shore of the Mediterranean. More
over, it was shown that certain groups of organic forms exhibit
a common tendency to remarkable developments of particular
kinds, as is the case with birds of paradise.

u 2

292 LESSONS FROM NATURE. [CHAP. IX.

5. That facts may be cited to support the theory of specific
stability (different in degree in different species), and to de
monstrate that reversion may take place in spite of the most
careful selection in breeding. The value of the facts of sterility
in hybrids was alsp considered.

6. That data bearing on the relation of species to time may
be brought forward, apparently fatal to their origin by the
action of natural selection.

7. That the significant and important facts of the deep-
seated resemblances existing not only between different indi
vidual animals, but between different parts of one and the
same individual, should be pondered over; these points
being, as was shown, capable of reinforcement by others
drawn from the abnormalities of monstrous births, and the
symmetrical character of certain diseases.

From all these considerations, a cumulative argument
seemed to arise conclusive against the theory that species
have had their specific characters fixed mainly by the action
of " natural selection."

This hypothesis, in fact, may be expressed as follows : that
just as all admit the universe to have been so ordered — or to
so exist — that on the mixing of chemical substances under
certain conditions new and perfectly definite species of mine
rals are suddenly evolved from potentiality to existence, and
as by the juxtaposition of inorganic matters under certain
influences* a new form of force — "vitality" — appears upon
the scene — so also in animals, the concurrence of certain
external exciting causes acts in such a manner on internal
predisposing tendencies as to determine by a direct seminal
modification the evolution of a new specific form. The
action of so-called " natural selection " was admitted to be
real and necessary but an altogether subordinate role was
ascribed to it.

* Though Professor Huxley is disinclined as yet to admit that such
evolution of living things takes place now, he none the less admits the prin
ciple, though he relegates such evolution to a remote epoch of the world's
history. See 'Address to the British Association, Liverpool, 1870,' p. 17.

€HAP. IX.] NATUBAL SELECTION. 293

This view may be true or false, but it is a very different1
one from that advocated by the author of the Differ from
' Origin of Species/ and I am at a loss to under- view.an
stand how Professor Huxley could really consider it identical
with Mr. Darwin's, more especially as (at p. 237) the points
in which this theory coincides with Professor Owen's * Deri
vation,' and differs from that of the author of the ' Origin of

7 O

Species,' had been enumerated. It seems to me strange that
Professor Huxley should now assert the "very pith and
marrow" of Darwinism to have been the affirmation that
" species havel)een evolved by variation, aided by the subor
dinate action of natural selection," when he himself, in his
' Lay Sermons ' (p. 321), has enunciated simply that Mr.
Darwin's hypothesis is the origin of species " l>y the process of
natural selection" without one word of qualification ; and five
pages farther on, has considered the possibility of the refuta
tion of Mr. Darwin's view by the discovery of residual pheno
mena* not explicable by "natural selection" — just such
phenomena as I have endeavoured to call attention to in my
book.

There is no evidence that Mr. Darwin even now does admit
that "natural selection" has only a subordinate action, and,
as we have seen, in the last edition of the ' Origin of Species '
he still speaks of it as " the most important means." I do not
recollect to have met with any declaration that it is only a
subordinate means, although such a declaration should logi
cally follow from the various admissions he has latterly made.
If he does admit it, then a cause which is subordinate cannot
be the determining agent. If he does not admit it, then
there is a radical difference between my hypothesis and
Mr. Darwin's.

Mr. Darwin has, in fact, changed his ground without, at
the same time, disavowing, as he should have done, " natural
selection " as the origin of species.

This restatement of facts has been called for by the un-

* His \vords are — " What if species should offer residual phenomena, here
and there, not explicable by natural selection ?" (' Lay Sermons,' p. 326.)

294 LESSONS FROM NATURE. [CHAP. IX.

scrupulous audacity with whieh they have been denied. It
is but an act of justice to endeavour to prevent the public
attaching, in mere deference to Mr. Darwin's authority, a
greater weight to his assertions than the evidence adduced
warrants. It has been sought to do this by showing, by
Mr. Darwin's own words, he has been compelled to admit
that " abrupt strongly marked changes " may occur " neither
beneficial nor injurious" to the creatures possessing them,
produced " by unknown agencies " lying deep in " the nature
of the organism." In other words, that Mr. Darwin has in
fact,* though not in express words, abandoned his original
theory of the " origin of species."

I am grateful, however, to Professor Huxley for having
spoken of " injustice " in connection with Mr. Darwin. I am
so because it affords me an opportunity for declaring myself
more fully. The struggle between my inclination to praise
and to acquiesce, and my sense of duty which impelled me
to dissent, led me to express myself very imperfectly, and I
thank Professor Huxley for having given me occasion to
acknowledge my regret that these sentiments should have
led me to give in my ' Genesis of Species ' such very inade
quate expression to my dissent from, and reprobation of,
Mr. Darwin's views, especially as manifested in their later
developments.

As to the principles embodied in Mr. Darwin's ' Origin of
Species,' the further study of them more and more brings
home to me their unsatisfactoriness. Indeed, " natural selec
tion," as the agent for the determination of specific animal
forms, is, I am convinced, utterly insufficient to the task

* Professor Huxley now tells us that Mr. Darwin is inclined to admit that
varieties can " be perpetuated, or even intensified, when selective conditions
are indifferent, or perhaps unfavourable" to their "existence." Surely if
species may be evolved in the teeth of nil the opposition " natuial selection "
can offer, it is, to say the least, somewhat paradoxical to affirm that neverthe
less natural selection is their cause. For all this Mr. Darwin has not I
believe, expressly said that the action of "natural selection " is only sub
ordinate, though he asserts it to be co-ordinate. So that though he has
virtually given up his original theory, his view does not yet coincide with
mine, as far as I can gather from his words.

CHAP. IX.] NATURAL SELECTION. 295

assigned it ; while the reasoning employed in the ' Descent
of Man ' to support the hypothesis of our ape origin* seems
to me, to say the least, unworthy of Mr. Darwin's earlier
productions.

Professor Huxley attributes " peculiar notions of proba
bility " to whoever affirms that if all animals below what is and
man have been evolved one from the other, then a in^anTanf-
close resemblance in man's body to any particular
animal's does not increase that a priori probability as to his
bodily evolution which springs from the fact of his being " an
animal at all." But surely if it was of the essence of an animal
to be " evolved," so that to be an animal implied being a crea
ture formed by evolution, then the fact of man being an animal
would necessarily have a similar implication, and I fail to see
what additional force that probability would obtain through
any particular resemblance. On the other hand, if there is
authority for believing that man's body was miraculously
created, such particular resemblance would not render such a
miracle one bit less credible ; for there is no necessity, on
the hypothesis of such miraculous creation, for more than
even a specific difference between his body and that of some
other animal.

Professor Huxley declares the assertion that man differs
more from an ape than does an ape from inorganic matter
is the sign of the " absence of a sound philosophical basis "
in its assertor. But surely this is the position every one
must assume who believes that man is immortal, and has
a moral responsibility to God. For it is manifest that
such distinctions (e.g., growth, nutrition, locomotion, &c.)
as exist between apes and minerals are as nothing com
pared with the transcendent distinction above referred to.
If, then, in saying this we are in "philosophical error,"
we share that error with all those who assert the immor
tality of the soul, and a moral responsibility of each man

* The much-ridiculed Lord Monboddo has been successfully redeemed from
very unjust depreciation in an interesting article which has lately appeared.
See the ' Month ' for November 1871.

296 LESSONS FROM NATUEE. [CHAP. IX.

to God such as no brute possesses. We can also claim
as more or less on our side even one of the originators
of the theory of " natural selection " itself, and his followers ;
for Mr. Wallace, if I understand him rightly, teaches us
that for the evolution of man's body special spiritual agencies
were required, which were not needed for the rest of the
organic world. So that, according to this view, man is
marked off from all the rest of nature by a very special
distinction.

And here, the name of Mr. Wallace having been mentioned,
Mr. wai- I must refer to Professor Huxley's criticism on a
t^Sri£!m8 remark made through my desire to do justice to
Mr. Wallace. It is an undoubted fact that there
are many men who, if they had thought out natural selection
simultaneously with Mr. Darwin, would have clamor
ously sought a recognition of the fact, and have lost no
opportunity of asserting simultaneity. No one can affirm
that Mr. Wallace has shown the faintest inclination of the
kind, while no one can deny that if he had followed the
clamorous path, his name would have been more widely
known and more popularly associated with natural selection
than has been, in fact, the case.

It is a gratuitous assertion on the part of Professor
Huxley to say I suggested that Mr. Darwin's eminence is
due to Mr. Wallace's modesty in any other sense than as
now explained, namely, that had Mr. Wallace put himself
more prominently forward, he would have been seen more
distinctly by the popular eye — an assertion no one can
question.

As a fact, I believe that Mr. Wallace, in the passage
quoted by Professor Huxley, allows his modesty to deceive
him. From what I know of Mr. Wallace, I venture to affirm
he underrates his powers, and I am convinced he could have
written as good a defence of natural selection as even the
'Origin of Species.' There are not wanting those who,
though they have carefully studied Mr. Darwin's work, only
fully understood his theory when presented to their minds

CHAP. IX.] NATUEAL SELECTION. 297

in the clear, lucid, and admirable writings of Mr. Wallace.
In this matter I have the support of an eminent Darwinian,
for Dr. Hooker, in his address to the British Association at
Norwich, made the following remarks on this subject : " Of
Mr. Wallace and his many contributions to philosophical
biology, it is not easy to speak without enthusiasm; for
putting aside their great merits, he, throughout his writings,
with a modesty as rare as I believe it to be in him un
conscious, forgets his own unquestioned claims to the honour
of having originated, independently of Mr. Darwin, the
theories which he so ably defends."*

Having, then, examined the meaning and nature of the
hypothesis of " Natural Selection," it is necessary Mr Darwin's
to call attention to the mode and manner of its Btyle>
advocacy by its author — a style calculated to impress, by
authority of tone, minds easily dominated, and not prepared
by special studies to accurately weigh the evidence put
before them. Two objections may be made to Mr. Darwin's
mode of advocacy. The first is a too great tendency to
dogmatic assertions. The second is a habit of quietly
slipping in, or assuming, in his arguments the presence
of some power or quality when its existence is the very
point in dispute. This applies as much, or more, to his
remarks on the distinctive mental qualities of man as to
those on questions of the structure or habits of animals.

Thus, to take for instance the theory of the descent of
man from some inferior form, he says : " The grounds upon
which this conclusion rests will never le shaken " (vol. ii.
p. 385), and " the possession of exalted mental powers is no
insuperable objection to this conclusion" (vol. i. p. 107).
Also (vol. i. p. 32) : " It is only our natural prejudice " " which
leads us to demur to this conclusion." Yet we might surely
be led to demur by the conviction that not to do so would
be to contradict evident truths. Speaking of sympathy,
he boldly remarks : " This instinct no doubt was originally

* See ' Report ' for 1868, p. Ixxi.

298 LESSONS FEOM NATURE. [CHAP. IX.

acquired, like all the other social instincts, through natural
selection" (vol. i. p. 16-1); an>l "the fundamental social
instincts were originally thus gained" (vol. i. p. 173).

He tells us (vol. i. p. 155) : " The pollen-collecting appa
ratus, or the sting of the worker-bee, or the great jaws of
soldier-ants have been thus acquired," i.e., by natural
selection.

It is rarely that Mr. Darwin fails in courtesy to his oppo
nents ; and one may well therefore be surprised at the tone
of the following passage (vol. ii. p. 38G) : " He who is not
content to look like a savage, at the phenomena of nature as
disconnected, cannot any longer believe that man is the work
of a separate act of creation, lie will be forced to admit "
the contrary. What justifies Mr. Darwin in taking this tone
of superiority, and in his assumption that to suppose the soul
of man to have been specially created, is to regard the
phenomena of nature as disconnected ?

Secondly, as an instance of Mr. Darwin's too frequent
He begs the practice of begging the question at issue, the fol-

question he *

argues. lowing assertion may be quoted: "Any animal
whatever, endowed with well-marked social instincts, would
inevitably acquire a moral sense or conscience, as soon as its
intellectual powers had become as well developed, or nearly
as well developed, as in man " (vol. i. p. 71). This is either
a monstrous assumption or a mere truism ; it is a truism, for
of course, any creature with the intellect of a man would
perceive the qualities men's intellect is capable of perceiving,
and, amongst them — moral worth.

Mr. Darwin, in a passage before quoted (vol. i. p. 86) slips
in the whole of absolute morality, by employing the phrase
" appreciation of justice." Again (vol. i. p. 168), when he
speaks of aiding the needy, he remarks: "Nor could we
check our sympathy, if so urged by hard reason, without
deterioration in the noblest part of our nature." How noblest?
According to Mr. Darwin, a virtuous instinct is a strong and
permanent one. There can be, according to his views, no
other elements of quality than intensity and duration. Mr.

CHAP. IX.] NATURAL SELECTION. 299

Darwin, in fact, thus silently introduces the moral element
into his " social instinct," and then, of course, has no diffi
culty in finding in this latter what he had previously put
there.

Mr. Darwin's hypothesis has been examined at length by
me in the ' Genesis of Species,' and the causes have been
there assigned which have determined me to reject it in
favour of tbe conception of an internal force — a conclusion
which has also been arrived at by various other naturalists ;
Professor Owen, as has been said, amongst them.

Dr. Carpenter has observed (in a periodical called ' II
Earth '), of the origin of new species by the appearance of
modified individuals : "Natural selection is asssuredly not
that cause." "Consequently we must look to forces acting
either within or without the organism as the real agents."
" This mucli seems to me clear : that just as there is at the
present time a determinate capacity for a certain fixed kind
of development in each germ, in virtue of which one evolves
itself into a zoophyte, and another (though not originally
distinguishable i'rom it) into a man, so must the primordial
germs have been endowed each with its determinate capacity
for a particular course of development ; in virtue of which it
has evolved the whole succession of forms that has ultimately
proceeded from it. That the ' accidents ' of Natural Selec
tion should have produced that orderly succession, is to my
own mind inconceivable."

It cannot then be contested that the far-famed " Origin of
Species'' that, namely, by " Natural Selection," has

•f HI i Conclusion as

been repudiated, in fact, though not expressly, *£H*»fd
even by its own author. This circumstance, which
is simply undeniable, might dispense us from any further
consideration of the hypothesis itself. But the " conspiracy
of silence " which has accompanied the repudiation tends to
lead the unthinking many to suppose that the same im
portance still attaches to it as at first. On this account it
may be worth while to ask the question, what, after all, is
" Natural Selection" ?

300 LESSONS FROM NATURE. [CHAP. IX.

The answer may seem surprising to some, but it is none
the less true, that " Natural Selection " is simply nothing. It
is an apparently positive name for a really negative effect,
and is therefore an eminently misleading term. By " Natural
Selection " is meant the result of all the destructive agencies

O

of nature, destructive to individuals and to races by destroy
ing their lives or their powers of propagation. Evidently
the cause of the distinction of species (supposing such dis
tinction to be brought about in natural generation) must be
that which causes variation, and variation in one determinate
direction in at least several individuals simultaneously. At
the same time it is freely conceded that the destructive
agencies of nature do succeed in preventing the perpetua
tion of monstrous, abortive, and feeble attempts at the
performance of the evolutionary process, that they remove
rapidly antecedent forms when new ones are evolved more
in harmony with surrounding conditions, and that their
action results in the promotion of new characters when these
have once attained sufficient completeness to be of real
utility to their possessor.

Continued reflection, and five years' further pondering
over the problem of specific origin, have more and more
convinced me the conception that the origin of all species,
"man included," is due simply to conditions which are
(to use Mr. Darwin's own words') "strictly accidental," is
a conception utterly irrational. This conception is not that
of Mr. Wallace, who makes of man a special exception.
With regard to the conception as now put forward by
Mr. Darwin, however, I cannot truly characterize it but by
an epithet which I employ only with much reluctance. I
weigh my words, and have present to my mind the many
distinguished naturalists who have accepted the notion, and
yet I cannot hesitate to call it a " puerile hypothesis" I call
it puerile and not infantine, because in the infancy of nations
as of individuals the tendency is to explain each visible
action by a direct supernatural intervention. Eeaction from
this infantine condition tends to the exclusion from our

CHAP. IX.] NATURAL SELECTION. 301

conception of the First Cause, of knowledge, purpose and
will altogether, as in the Ionian Philosophy which re
appears amongst us to-day — the puerile view. This puerile
view results from a want of appreciation of human reason.
Maturity reconciles the apparently diverging truths contained
in each assertion and represents the material universe as
always and everywhere sustained and directed by an infinite
Cause, for which to us the word MIND is the least inadequate
and misleading of symbols.

302 )

CHAPTER X.

SEXUAL SELECTION.

" Sexual selection is an hypothesis which neither has been nor can be
proved true, but the falsehood of which is demonstrated by a mass of
zoological data."

THE hypothesis of "natural selection" having been found
sexual seiec- by its author unequal for the task he had as-
ce™oryni]yCpo- signed it, that of serving as the explanation of
specific origin, he subsequently brought forward to
its aid a subordinate hypothesis, which he termed "sexual
selection." The present chapter will be devoted to the con
sideration of what lessons we can derive from nature as to
the existence and action of this process.

In considering the Origin of Man, Mr. Darwin brings in his
addition of " sexual selection" to the aid of « natural selection."
We need not here further consider the action of " natural
selection ;" but since Mr. Darwin is convinced that the action
of « sexual selection " is necessary to account for man's origin
and present condition, it will be necessary to consider " sexual
selection" at some length. It plays the most important part
in the « descent of man," according to Mr. Darwin's views. He
maintains that we owe to it our power of song and our hair-
lessness of body, and that also to it is due the formation and
conservation of the various races and varieties of the human
species. Indeed "sexual selection" is now the corner-stone
of Mr. Darwin's theory. It occupies three-fourths of his
work on Man; and unless he has clearly established this
point, the whole fabric falls to the ground. It is impossible,
therefore, to estimate his views adequately without entering
fully into the subject.

CHAP. X.] SEXUAL SELECTION. 303

Under the head of " sexual selection " Mr. Darwin includes,
however, two very distinct processes. One of these Has been

* l . . made to in-

consists in the action of superior strength or activity, ciude two

1 . . . distinct

by which one male succeeds in obtaining possession things.
of mates and in keeping away rivals. This is, undoubtedly,
a vera causa, but may be more conveniently reckoned as one
mode of "natural selection" than as a branch of "sexual
selection." The second process consists in alleged preference
or choice, exercised freely by the female in favour of parti
cular males on account of some attractiveness or beauty of
form, colour, odour, or voice, which such males may possess.
It is this second form of " sexual selection " (and which alone
deserves the name) that is important for the truth of Mr.
Darwin's views, but the validity of which has to be proved.

Now, to prove the existence of such a power of choice Mr.
Darwin brings forward a multitude of details respecting the
sexual phenomena of animals of various classes ; but it is the
class of birds which is mainly relied on to afford evidence in
support of the exercise of this power of choice by female
animals. It is contended, however, that not only is the
evidence defective even with respect to birds, but that much
of his own evidence is in direct opposition to his views ; while
the unquestionable fact, that male sexual characters (horns,
mane, wattles, &c. &c.) are developed in many cases where
sexual selection has certainly not acted, renders it probable,
a priori, that the unknown cause which has operated in these
numerous cases has operated in those instances also which
seem to favour the hypothesis Mr. Darwin supports. Still he
contends that the greater part of the beauty and melody of
the organic world is due exclusively to this selective process,
by which, through countless generations, the tail of the
peacock, the throat of the humming-bird, the song of the
nightingale, and the chirp of the grasshopper have been
developed through the females, age after age, selecting for
their mates, males possessing in a more and more perfect
degree characters which must thus have been continually and
constantly preferred.

304 LESSONS FKOM NATUKE. [CHAP. X.

Yet, after all, Mr. Darwin concedes in principle the very
Marked cha- point in dispute, and yields all for which his oppo-

racters cer- -

tainiy arise nents need argue, when he allows that beautiful and

indepen- 1 . . .

dentiyofit. harmonious variations may occur spontaneously and
at once, as in the dark "or spangled bars on the feathers of
Hamburg fowls (' Descent of Man,' vol. i. p. 281). For what dif
ference is there, other than mere difference of degree, between
the spontaneous appearance of a few beautiful new feathers
with harmonious markings and the spontaneous appearance
of a whole beautiful clothing like that of the Tragopans ?

Again, on Mr. Darwin's own showing, it is manifest that
male sexual characters, such as he would fain attribute to
sexual selection, may arise without any such action whatever.
Thus he tells us : " There are breeds of the sheep and goat,
in which the horns of the male differ greatly in shape from
those of the female;" and "with tortoise-shell cats, the
females alone, as a general rule, are thus coloured, the males
being rusty-red" (vol. i. p. 283). Now, if these cats were
only known in a wild state, Mr. Darwin would certainly bring
them forward amongst his other instances of alleged sexual
selection, though we now know the phenomenon is not due
to any such cause. A more striking instance, however, is
the following : " With the pigeon, the sexes of the parent
species do not differ in any external character ; nevertheless,
in certain domesticated breeds the male is differently coloured
from the female. The wattle in the English carrier-pigeon,
and the crop in the pouter, are more highly developed in the
male than in the female ;" and this has arisen, " not from, but
rather in opposition to, the wishes of the breeders !" This
amounts to a positive demonstration that sexual characters
may arise spontaneously, and, be it noted, in the class of
birds.

As to intestinal worms, he says, on the authority of Dr.
Baird : —

" The males of certain Entozoa differ slightly in colour from the
females ; but we have no reason to suppose that such differences have
been augmented through sexual selection."

CHAP. X ] SEXUAL SELECTION. 305

But if sexual character is here allowed to be due to some
other cause, why is it not so due elsewhere also ? The question
suggests itself after reading the following sentence': —

" Many corals, sea-anemones, some jelly-fishes, Planarize, Ascidians,
starfishes, Echini, &c.," " are ornamented with the most brilliant tints,
or are shaded and striped in an elegant manner ;" yet here " we may
conclude that such colours have not been acquired through sexual selec
tion."— -Vol. i. p. 321.

The uncertainty which besets these speculations of Mr.
Darwin is evident at every turn. What, at first,
could be thought a better instance of sexual selec
tion than the light of the glowworm, exhibited to attract her
mate ? Yet the discovery of luminous Iarva3, which of course
have no sexual action, leads Mr. Darwin to observe that " It
is very doubtful whether the primary use of the light is to
guide the male to the female " (vol. i. p. 345). Again, as to
certain British field-bugs, he says, " If in any species the males
had differed from the females in an analogous manner, we might
have been justified in attributing such conspicuous colours to
sexual selection with transference to both sexes" (vol. i.
p. 350). As to the stridulating noises of insects (which is
assumed to be the result of sexual selection), Mr. Darwin
remarks of a certain Neuropteron : "It is rather surprising that
both sexes should have the power of stridulating, as the male
is winged and the female wingless " (vol. i. p. 366) ; and he
is again surprised to find that this power is not a sexual
character in many (Joleoptera (vol. i. p. 382), i.e., not different
in the two sexes.

Moths and butterflies, however, are the insects which Mr.
Darwin treats of at the greatest length in support of sexual
selection. Yet even here he supplies us with a thorough
demonstration that in certain cases beauty does not charm
the female. He tells us : —

" Some facts, however, are opposed to the belief that female butter
flies prefer the more beautiful males ; thus, as I have been assured by
several observers, fresh females may frequently be seen paired with
battered, faded, or dingy males." — Vol. i. p. 400.

'''•-'. X

306 LESSONS FEOM NATURE. [CHAP. X.

As to the Bombycidee he adds :—

" The females lie in a torpid state, and appear not to evince the least
choice in regard to their partners. This is the case with the common
silk-moth (£. wort). Dr. Wallace, who has had such immense experi
ence in breeding Bombyx cynthia, is convinced that the females evince
no choice or preference. He has kept above three hundred of these
moths living together, and has often found the most vigorous females
mated with stunted males."

Nevertheless, we do not find, for all this, any defect of
colour or markings, for, as Mr. Wallace observes (' Nature,'
March 15, 1871, p. 182), "the Bombyces are amongst the
most elegantly coloured of all moths."

Mr. Darwin gives a number of instances of sexual charac
ters, such as horns, spines, &c., in beetles and other insects ;
but there is no fragment of evidence that such structures are
in any way due to feminine caprice. Other structures are
described and figured which doubtless do aid the sexual act,
as the claws of certain Crustacea ; but these are often of such
size and strength (e.g., in Callianassa and Orchestia) as to
render any power of choice on the part of the female in the
highest degree incredible.

Similarly with the higher classes, i.e., fishes, reptiles, and
beasts, we have descriptions and representations of

Fishes and . . . -.

Reptiles. a number of sexual peculiarities, but no evidence
whatever that such characters are due to female selection.
Often we have statements which conflict strongly with any
such action. Thus, e.g., Mr. Darwin quotes Mr. E. Buist,
Superintendent of Fisheries, as saying that male salmon

" are constantly fighting and tearing each other on the spawning-
beds, and many so injure each other as to cause the death of numbers,
many being seen swimming near the banks of the river in a state of
exhaustion, and apparently in a dying state ; and that the keeper of
Stormontfield found in the northern Tyne about three hundred dead
salmon, all of which, with one exception, were males ; and he was con
vinced that they had lost their lives by fighting."— Vol. ii. p. 3.

The female's choice must here be much limited, and the
only kind of sexual selection which can operate is that first

CHAP. X.] SEXUAL SELECTION. 307

kind due to direct conflict, which, we before observed, must
rather be ranked as a kind of " natural selection." Even with
regard to this, however, we may well hesitate, when Mr.
Darwin tells us, as he does, that, seeing the habitual contests
of the males, " it is surprising that they have not generally
become, through the effects of sexual selection, larger and
stronger than the females ;" and this the more as " the males
suffer from their small size," being '• liable to be devoured by
the females of their own species" (vol. ii. p. 7). The cases
cited by our author witli regard to fishes do not even tend
to prove the existence of sexual selection, and the same may
be said as to the numerous details given by him about reptiles
and amphibians. Nay, rather the facts are hostile to his views.
Thus he says himself, " It is surprising that frogs and toads
should not have acquired more strongly-marked sexual dif
ferences ; for, though cold-blooded, their passions are strong"
(vol. ii. p. 26). But he cites a fact, than which it would be
difficult to find one less favourable to his cause, seeing that
amphibians have some sexual characters after all. He adds :
" Dr. Gunther informs me that he has several times found an
unfortunate female toad dead and smothered from having
been so closely embraced by three or four males." If female
selection was difficult in the case of the female salmon, it
must be admitted to have been singularly infelicitous to the
female toad.

We may now notice some facts brought forward by Mr.
Darwin with regard to beasts. And first, as to the
existence of choice on the part of the females, it
must be noted that " Mr. Blenkiron, the greatest breeder of
racehorses in the world, says that stallions are so frequently
capricious in their choice, rejecting one mare and without any
apparent cause taking to another, that various artifices have
to be habitually used." "He has never known a mare to
reject a horse;" though this has occurred in Mr. Wright's
stable.

Mr. Darwin allows (vol. ii. p. 276) that the loud voice of
the stag is not due to sexual selection ; but some of the most

x 2

308 LESSONS FROM NATURE. [CHAP. X.

marked sexual characters found amongst mammals are those
which exist in apes. These are abundantly noticed by Mr.
Darwin, but his treatment of them seems to show his inability
to bring them within the scope of his theory.

It is well known that certain apes are distinguished by the
lively colours or peculiarities as to hair possessed by the
males, while it is also notorious that their vastly superior
strength of body and length of fang would render resistance
on the part of the female difficult and perilous, even were we
to adopt the utterly gratuitous supposition, that at seasons of
sexual excitement the female shows any disposition to coyness.
Mr. Darwin has no argument to bring forward to prove the
exercise of any choice on the part of female apes, but gives
in support of his views the following remarkable passage :—

"Must we attribute to mere purposeless variability in the male all
these appendages of hair and skin ? It cannot be denied that this is
possible ; for, with many domesticated quadrupeds, certain characters,
apparently not derived through reversion from any wild parent-form,
have appeared in, and are confined to, the males, or are more largely
developed in them than in the females,— for instance, the hump in the
male zebu-cattle of India, the tail in fat- tailed rams, the arched outline
of the forehead in the males of several breeds of sheep, the mane in the
ram of an African breed, and, lastly, the mane, long hairs on the hinder
legs, and the dewlap in the male alone of the Berbura goat."— vol. ii.
p. 284.

If these are due, as is probable, to simple variability, then,
he adds —

" It would appear reasonable to extend the same view to the many
analogous characters occurring in animals under a state of nature.
Nevertheless I cannot persuade myself that this view is applicable in
many cases, as in that of the extraordinary development of hair on the
throat and fore-legs of the male Ammotragus, or of the immense beard
of the Pithecia (monkey)."— vol. ii. p. 285.

But one naturally asks, Why not? Mr. Darwin gives no
reason (if it may be called such) beyond that implied in the
gratuitous use of the epithet " purposeless " in the passage
cited, and to which we shall return.

In the Rhesus monkey the female appears to be more
vividlv coloured than the male ; therefore Mr. Darwin infers

CHAP. X.] SEXUAL SELECTION. 309

(grounding his inference on alleged phenomena in birds) that
sexual selection is reversed, and that in this case the male
selects. This hypothetical reversion of a hypothetical process
to meet an exceptional case will appear to many rash indeed,
when they reflect that as to teeth, whiskers, general size, and
superciliary ridges this monkey " follows the common rule of
the male excelling the female" (vol. ii. p. 284).

To turn now to the class on which Mr. Darwin especially
relies, we shall find that even birds supply us with
numerous instances which conflict with his hypo
thesis. Thus, speaking of the battling of male waders, our
author tells us: "Two were seen to be thus engaged for half
an hour, until one got hold of the head of the other, which
would have been killed had not the observer interfered ; the
female all the time looking on as a quiet spectator" (vol. i.
p. 40). As these battles must take place generally in the
absence of spectators, their doubtless frequently fatal ter
mination must limit greatly the power of selection which
Mr. Darwin attributes to the females. The same limit is
certainly imposed in the majority of gallinaceous birds, the
cocks of which fight violently ; and there can be little doubt
but that, as an almost invariable rule, the victorious birds
mate with the compaiatively passive hens.

Again, how can we explain, on Mr. Darwin's hypothesis, the
existence of distinguishing male sexual marks, where it is the
male and not the female bird which selects ? Yet the wild
turkey-cock, a distinguished bird enough, is said by Mr.
Darwin (vol. ii. p. 207) to be courted by the females ; and he
quotes (vol. ii. p. 120) Sir E. Heron as saying, " that with
peafowl the first advances are always made by the female."
And of the capercailzie he says, " The females flit round the
male while he is parading, and solicit his attention."

But though, of course, the sexual instinct always seeks its
gratification, does the female ever select a particular plumage ?
The strongest instance given by Mr. Darwin is as follows : —

" Sir lv. Heron during many years kept an account of the habits of
the peafowl, which he bred in large numbers. He states that the hens

310 LESSONS FROM NATUEE. [CHAP. X.

have frequently great preference for a particular peacock. They were
all so fond of an old pied cock, that one year, when he was confined
though still in view, they were constantly assembled close to the
trellis-walls of his prison, and would not suffer a japanned peacock to
touch them. On his being let out in the autumn, the oldest of the
hens instantly courted him, and was successful in her courtship. The
next year he was shut up in a stable, and then the hens all courted his
rival. This rival was a japanned or black-winged .peacock, which to
our eyes is a more beautiful bird than the common kind." — vol. ii.
p. 120.

Now no one disputes as to birds showing preferences one
for another ; but it is quite a gratuitous suggestion that the
pied plumage of the venerable paterfamilias was the charm
which attracted the opposite sex ; and even if such were the
case, it would seem (from Mr. Darwin's concluding remark)
to show either that the peahen's taste is so different from
ours, that the peacock's plumage could never have been
developed by it, or (if the taste of these peahens was different
from that of most peahens) that such is the instability of a
vicious feminine caprice, that no constancy of coloration
could be produced by its selective action.

Another instance, which Mr. Darwin considers a " striking
case," is that "a male silver-pheasant, who had been tri
umphant over the other males, and was the accepted lover
of the females, had his ornamental plumage spoiled. He
was then immediately superseded by a rival, who got the
upper hand, and afterwards led the flock." But, in the first
place, what is the meaning of " got the upper hand " ? If
this means " conquered in fight," the whole case is simple
enough ; and without such conquest it is difficult to see how
the second male could have " afterwards led the flock." But
even if it does not mean conquest, it need only mean that
the change of plumage caused an interruption in the asso
ciated sensations of the females, such that they mistook his
identity, and no longer recognised their mate. But a solitary
observation of Dr. Jaeger requires confirmation, and is indeed
of little value in supporting what, if it be correct, is but a
hypothetical interpretation of its meaning, while numerous

CHAP. X.] SEXUAL SELECTION. 311

other observations directly contradict any such hypothesis.
Thus Mr. Darwin himself says of fowls : —

" I have received long letters on this subject from Messrs. Hewitt
and Tegetmeier, and almost an essay from the late Mr. Brent. It will
be admitted by every one that these gentlemen, so well known from
their published works, are careful and experienced observers. They
do not believe that the females prefer certain males on account of the
beauty of their plumage." " Mr. Tegetmeier is convinced that a game
cock, though disfigured by being dubbed with his hackles trimmed,
would be accepted as readily as a male retaining all his natural orna
ments." As to pigeons, " Mr. Tegetmeier, at my request, stained some
of his birds with magenta, but they were not much noticed by the
others."— vol. ii. pp. 117, 118.

But there are remarkable instances of sexual characters
which cannot be due to female selection or to selection at all.
Thus Mr. Darwin was shown by Mr. Bartlett that the inside
of the mouth of the hornbill, B. bicornis, " is black in the
male and flesh-coloured in the female" (vol. ii. p. 129).
Again, we learn that " the females of Paradisea apoda and
P. papuana differ from each other more than do their re
spective males " (vol. ii. p. 192). And again, " The males of
two species of Oxynotus (shrikes), which represent each other
in the islands of Mauritius and Bourbon, differ but little in
colour, whilst the females differ much." Moreover, Mr.
Darwin compares these with " certain sub-breeds of the game
fowl, in which the females are very different, whilst the males
can hardly be distinguished" — differences which he allows
we cannot explain. And indeed the fact that sexual plumage
may arise without any sexual selection whatever, or indeed
selection of any kind, is abundantly demonstrated by the
case of the pigeons before noticed, and by the fact that in
fowls " the two sexes of pencilled Hamburgs differ greatly
from each other, and from the two sexes of the aboriginal
Gallus lankiva " (vol. ii. p. 158).

Mr. Darwin bases his theory of sexual selection greatly on
the fact that the male birds display the beauty of their
plumage with elaborate parade and many curious and un
couth gestures. But this display is not exclusively used in

312 LESSONS FKOM NATUKE. [CHAP. X.

attracting and stimulating the hens. Thus he admits that
" the males will sometimes display their ornaments when not
in the presence of the females, as occasionally occurs with
the grouse at their balz-places, and as may be noticed with
the peacock ; this latter bird, however, evidently wishes for a
spectator of some kind, and will show off his finery, as I have
often seen, before poultry or even pigs" (vol. ii. p. 86).
Again, as to the brilliant Rupicola crocea, Sir E. Schomburgk
says : " A male was capering to the apparent delight of several
others " (vol. ii. p. 87).

Mr. Darwin considers singing as well as display of plumage
to be one of the attractions for which males are

Voice.

selected by females, and that in consequence of this
the faculty has been developed in certain species to the degree
of perfection which we now find it has attained. There are,
however, reasons for thinking that it is by no means the
sexual instinct alone which occasions this exercise of the vocal
powers. Our author himself admits (vol. ii. p. 52), that at
any rate " many naturalists believe that the singing of birds
is almost exclusively ' the effect of rivalry and emulation,'
and not for the sake of charming their mates ;" and in con
firmation of this he mentions an instance of " a sterile hybrid
canary bird," which by its singing demonstrated that the
habit is at least " sometimes quite independent of love."

It is difficult to suppose that sexual selection can have
simultaneously developed in a high degree both power of
song and singularity of plumage. Yet the Umbrella bird
has both :—

" It has an immense top-knot, formed of bare white quills surmounted
by dark-blue plumes, which it can elevate into a dome no less than
five inches in diameter, covering the whole head. This bird also has
on its neck a long, thin, cylindrical, fleshy appendage, which is thickly
clothed with scale-like blue feathers. It probably serves in part as an
ornament, but likewise as a resounding apparatus, for Mr. Bates found
that it is ' connected with an unusual development of the trachea and
vocal organs.' The bird utters a singularly deep, loud, and long-sus
tained fluty note." — Vol. ii. p. 58.

Again, the Bell bird is an instance of the simultaneous

CHAP. X.] SEXUAL SELECTION. 313

existence of " extreme contrast in colour between the sexes "
(vol. ii. p. 79) — the male being pure white while the female
is dusky-green — with remarkable vocal powers, for its note
" can be distinguished at the distance of nearly three miles,
and astonishes every one who first hears it." But why may
not both the song of birds and their display, be phenomena
analogous to the voice of the stag or the lion, the develop
ment of which Mr. Darwin does not by any means consider
due to sexual selection ? He says : —

" The loud voice of the stag does not seem to be of any special
service to him, either during his courtship or battles, or in any other
way. But may we not believe that the frequent use of the voice,
under the strong excitement of love, jealousy, and rage, continued
during many generations, may at last have produced an inherited
effect on the vocal organs ?" — Vol. ii. p. 276.

But if this may be the case in the stag, an extension of
the same principle would sufficiently account for the song of
birds. In a parallel way we may conceive that the male
pheasants instinctively display themselves at the breeding
season, without any necessity of attributing their success in
wooing to their plumage, when we have seen how often it
must rather be due to their strength and prowess. Indeed,
Mr. Darwin himself somewhat singularly remarks (vol. ii.
p. 95) : " We must, however, be cautious in concluding that
the wings are spread out solely for display, as some birds act
thus whose wings are not beautiful ;" and he adds, " All male
birds of the same species display themselves exactly in the
same manner." So again the Howling monkeys have been
considered to perform their sonorous if not melodious concert
for its own sake, apart from any intention of female captiva-
tion. Mr. Darwin says : " An excellent observer, Rengger,
could not perceive that they were excited to begin their con
cert by any special cause ; he thinks that, like many birds,
they delight in their own music, and try to excel each other "
(vol. ii. p. 277).

From the fact of " display " Mr. Darwin concludes that " it
is obviously probable that the females appreciate the beauty

314 LESSONS FEOM NATURE. [CHAP. X.

of their suitors " (vol. ii. p. 1 11). Our author, however, only
ventures to call it "probable" and he significantly adds: " It
is, however, difficult to obtain direct evidence of their capacity
to appreciate beauty." And again he says of the hen bird: "It
is not probable that she consciously deliberates ; but she is
most excited or attracted by the most beautiful, or melodious,
or gallant males" (vol. ii. p. 123). No doubt the plumage,
song, &c., all play their parts in aiding the various processes
of life ; but to stimulate the sexual instinct, even supposing
this to be the object, is one thing — -to supply the occasion
for the exercise of a power of choice is quite another. Cer
tainly we can never admit what Mr. Darwin strongly affirms
(vol. ii. p. 124), that an "even occasional preference by the
female of the more attractive males would almost certainly
lead to their modification."

A singular instance is given by Mr. Darwin (vol. ii. p. Ill)
in support of his view, on the authority of Mr. J. Weir. It
is that of a bullfinch which constantly attacked a reed-bunt
ing, newly put into the aviary ; and this attack is attributed
to a sort of jealousy on the part of the blackheaded bullfinch
of the black head of the bunting. But it is somewhat diffi
cult to know how the bullfinch became aware of the colour
of the top of his own head !

Mr. Alfred Wallace has, in the following passage, well ex-
Mr. Wallace pressed two objections to Mr. Darwin's theory of
SarwTn. r sexual selection which have also occurred to the
minds of others : —

" There are two difficulties in the way of accepting Mr. Darwin's
wide generalisation as to the agency of sexual selection in producing
the greater part of the colour that adorns the animal world. How are
we to believe that the action of an ever-varying fancy for any slight
change of colour could produce and fix the definite colours and mark
ings which actually characterize species ? Successive generations of
female birds choosing any little variety of colour that occurred among
their suitors woxild necessarily lead to a speckled or piebald and un
stable result, not to the beautiful definite colours and markings we
see. . . . How can the individual tastes of hundreds of successive
generations of female birds produce any such definite or constant
effect ? Some law of necessary development of colour in certain parts

CHAP. X.] SEXUAL SELECTION. 315

of the body and in certain hues is first required, and then perhaps, in
the case of birds, the female might choose the successive improvements
as they occurred ; though unless other variations were altogether pre
vented, it seems just as likely that they would mar the effect the law
of development of colour was tending to produce."

" The other objection is, that there are signs of such a tendency,
which, taken in connection with the cases of caterpillars, of shells, and
other very low organisms, may cover the whole ground in the case of
insects, and render sexual selection of colour as unnecessary as it is
unsupported by direct evidence. In many islands of the Malay Archi
pelago, species of widely different genera of butterflies differ, in precisely
the same way [the italics are ours] as to colour or form, from allied
species in other islands. The same thing occurs to a less degree in
other parts of the world. Here we have indications of some local
modifying influence which is certainly not sexual selection. So, the
production in the males only of certain butterflies of a peculiar neura-
tion of the wings, of differently formed legs, and especially of groups
of peculiarly formed scales only to be detected by microscopical exami
nation, indicate the existence of some laws of development capable of
differentiating the sexes other than sexual selection."

But it is not only insects, but also birds, which present
similar parallel variations connected with locality, and cer
tainly not due to sexual selection. The element of caprice,
which Mr. Wallace urges as an objection, is admitted by Mr.
Darwin himself, for he speaks of sexual selection as depend
ing " on an element eminently liable to change — namely, the
taste or admiration of the female " (vol. ii. p. 192).

Mr. Wallace himself accounts for the brilliant colours of
caterpillars and many birds in another way. The His hypo-
caterpillars which are distasteful must have gained, colour,
if " some outward sign indicated to their would-be destroyer
that its prey was a disgusting morsel." As to birds, he
believes that brilliance of plumage is developed where not
hurtful, and that the generally more sober plumage of the
hens has been produced by natural selection killing off the
more brilliant ones exposed during incubation to trying
conditions.

Now as Mr. Wallace disposes of Mr. Darwin's views by
his objections, so Mr. Darwin's remarks tend to refute
Mr. Wallace's positions, and the result seems to point to

316 LESSONS FEOM NATURE. [CHAP. X.

the existence of some unknown innate and internal law
Mr. Darwin which determines at the same time both coloration

' and its transmission to either or to both sexes.
3S18< At the same time these authors plainly show the
harmony of natural laws and processes one with another, and
their mutual interaction and aid.

Thus it is reasonable to suppose that whatever cause has
produced brilliant colour in either fishes or caterpillars may
have produced them in both. But so far from brilliancy pro
ducing concealment in coral-reef frequenting fishes, as Mr.
Wallace believes, Mr. Darwin says, " According to my recol
lection they were thus rendered highly conspicuous." As to
their so giving evidence of being unpalatable, he adds, " It
is not, I believe, known that any fish, at least any freshwater-
fish, is rejected from being distasteful to fish-devouring ani
mals " (vol. ii. p. 18). This, of course, does not prevent the
brilliancy of caterpillars being due to its warning-off power,
but it tends to show that it can exist without any such cause ;
while mere brilliancy is by no means all that has to be
accounted for, but a variety of stripes, spots, and definite pat
terns, the evolution of which, as they are not protective or
selected, must be referred to some internal law.

As to the dulness of female birds being due to protective
" natural selection," Mr. Darwin objects (vol. ii. p. 21) that
fish which sit and hatch their young are brilliant enough.
Quoting from Agassiz, he says : " It ought to be observed
that these sitters are among the brightest species of their
respective families ; for instance, Hygrogonus is bright green,
with large black ocelli, encircled with the most brilliant
red." Again of the pipe-fishes: "The genus Solenosioma
offers a very curious exceptional case, for the female is much
more vividly coloured and spotted than the male, and she
alone has a marsupial sack and Latches the eggs." Again,
in some lizards we meet with the same phenomena as in so
many birds, namely, a greater soberness of colour in the
females. As Mr. Darwin most justly remarks : " The less
conspicuous colours of the females in comparison with those

CHAP. X.] SEXUAL SELECTION. 317

of the males cannot be accounted for, as Mr. Wallace believes
to be the case in birds, by the exposure to danger of the
females during incubation " (vol. ii. p. 37).

But if in these cold-blooded classes we have this sexual
difference developed by an innate law, why may not a similar
cause produce the phenomena in question in the class of
birds also ?

We may indeed well ask this question, since varieties arise
from time to time possessing sexually distinct plumage which
obviously cannot be due to any protecting action of female
sobriety of colour. Thus " there are breeds of the pigeon in
Belgium in which the males alone are marked with black
strice," and " in the case of the fowl variations of colour
limited in their transmission to the male sex habitually occur"
(vol. ii. p. 157). Certainly the large crop and wattles of
male pigeons are not due to the cause assigned by Mr.
Wallace, nor indeed to sexual selection either, " for fanciers
have not selected one sex more than the other, and have had
no wish that these characters should be more strongly dis
played in the male than in the female, yet this is the case
with both breeds." But even more may be said ; for, as Mr.
Darwin justly remarks, if the brightly-coloured females had
been continually destroyed, then the effect would not be the
forming a strong contrast between male and female birds, but
rather "the lessening or annihilation of the bright colours of
the males, owing to their continually crossing with the duller
females" (vol. ii. p. 160). There are also many striking
instances in which the relation which Mr. Wallace supposes
to exist between a covered nest and female plumage as bright
as that of the male does not obtain. " Thus the male house-
sparrow (Passer domesticus) differs much from the female,
the male tree-sparrow (P. montanus) differs hardly at all,
and yet both build well-concealed nests. TJie two sexes of
the common fly-catcher (Muscicapa grisolci) can hardly be
distinguished, whilst the sexes of the pied fly-catcher (M. luc-
tuosa) differ considerably, and both build in holes. The
female blackbird (Turdus merula) differs much, the female

318 LESSONS FROM NATURE. [CHAP. X.

ring-ouzel (T. torquatus) differs less, and the female common
thrush ( T. musicus) hardly at all from their respective males ;
yet all build open nests. On the other hand, the not very
distantly-allied water-ouzel (Cinclus aquaticus)' builds a domed
nest, and the sexes differ about as much as in the case of the
ring-ouzel. The black and red grouse (Tetrao tetrix and T.
scotieus) build open nests, in equally well-concealed spots,
but in the one species the sexes differ greatly, and in the
other very little." He also points out (vol. ii. p. 199) it is a
very strange and unlikely circumstance, if the females have
been rendered dull-coloured by the destruction of the brightly-
coloured (although all the individuals of the species tend to
be bright), that not only the females, but the young males
also, are always, or almost always, dull-coloured like their
mothers — a quite unaccountable condition.

As to insects, it is well known many butterflies benefit by
mimicking other kinds. Now in certain species the females
are brilliant mimics, but the males are dull. This seems to
conflict with the hypotheses of both Mr. Darwin and Mr.
Wallace. For the brilliancy is on the part of the supposed
selector according to Mr. Darwin, who admits " it cannot be
supposed that the males have been kept dull-coloured by the
females rejecting the individuals which were rendered as
beautiful as themselves ;" nor, as he observes, can we under
stand how Mr. Wallace's " natural selection " could have
kept the males dull, " for it would surely not have been in
any way injurious to each individual male to have partaken
by inheritance of the protective colours of the female, and
thus to have had a better chance of escaping destruction "
(vol. i. p. 414). Dragon-flies are very often brilliantly
coloured, and the males of some of the Agrionidde are blue,
with black wings, while the females are green, with colourless
wings. In Agrion Ilaniburii, however, " these colours are
exactly reversed in the two sexes." Surely neither Mr.
Wallace's nor Mr. Darwin's hypothesis will account for this
singular interchange. Certainly it is incredible that females
of one species should have persistently preferred such

CHAP. X.] SEXUAL SELECTION. 319

males as happened most to resemble the females of another
species !

From the foregoing facts and considerations it seems to
follow that we must of necessity admit the action of some
internal force. It cannot be pretended that there is any
evidence for sexual selection except in the class Birds.
Certain of the phenomena which Mr. Darwin generally
attributes to such selection must be due to other causes,
and there is no proof that sexual selection acts, even amongst
birds.

But in other classes, as we have seen, sexual characters
are as marked as they are in the feathered group. Need of an

~r\ internal

Thus, with regard to certain apes, Mr. Darwin force.
himself says, " Several authors have used the strongest
expressions in describing these resplendent colours, which
they compare with those of the most brilliant birds " (vol. ii.
p. 293). And yet there are no grounds for believing that
female apes select, while there are very strong reasons
against a belief in the exercise of any such selective action.
Mr. Darwin, indeed, argues that birds select, and assumes
that their sexual characters have been produced by such
selection, and that, therefore, the sexual characters of beasts
have been similarly evolved. But we may turn the argu
ment round, and say that sexual characters not less strongly
marked exist in many beasts, reptiles, and insects, which
characters cannot be due to sexual selection ; that it is, there
fore, probable the sexual characters of birds are not due to
sexual selection either, but that some unknown internal
cause has equally operated in each case. The matter, in
deed, stands thus. Of animals possessing sexual characters
there are some in which sexual selection cannot have acted ;
others in which it may possibly have acted ; others again
in which, according to Mr. Darwin, it has certainly acted.
It is a somewhat singular conclusion to deduce from this
that sexual selection is the one universal cause of sexual
characters when similar effects to those it is supposed to
cause take place in its absence.

320 LESSONS FROM NATURE. [CHAP. X.

But, indeed, what are the grounds on which Mr. Darwin
builds as regards birds? As before said, they are "display"
by the males, their " greater brilliancy and ornamentation,"
and the " occasional preference " by females in confinement
for particular males. What value is there in this founda
tion for such a superstructure ? In the first place, in insects,
e.g., butterflies, we have often many brilliant males crowding
in pursuit of a single female. Yet, as Mr. Wallace justly
observes, " Surely the male who finally obtains the female
will be either the most vigorous, or the strongest-winged, or
the most patient — the one who tires out or beats off the
rest." Similarly in birds strength and perseverance will, no
doubt, generally reward the suitor possessing those qualities.
Doubtless, also, this will generally be the most beautiful or
most melodious ; but this will simply be because extra
beauty of plumage, or of song, will accompany supereminent
vigour of constitution and fulness of vitality. What has
been before said as to the fierce combats of cock-birds must
be borne in mind.

But that internal spontaneous powers are sufficient to
its sum- produce all the most varied or bizarre sexual cha-
ciency. racters which any birds exhibit is actually demon
strated by the class of insects, especially caterpillars, which
from their sexless undeveloped state can have nothing to do
with the kind of selection Mr. Darwin advocates. Yet
amongst caterpillars we not only find some ornamented with
spots, bands, stripes, and curious patterns, " perfectly definite
in character and of the most brilliantly contrasted hues. We
have also many ornamental appendages; beautiful fleshy
tubercles or tentacles, hard spines, beautifully coloured hairs
arranged in tufts, brushes, starry clusters, or long pencils,
and horns on the head and tail, either single or double,
pointed or clubbed." Mr. Wallace adds : " Now if all these
beautiful and varied ornaments can be produced and ren
dered constant in each species by some unknown cause quite
independent of sexual selection, why cannot the same cause
produce the colours and many of the ornaments of perfect

CHAP. X.] SEXUAL SELECTION. 321

insects ?" We may also add, the colours and ornaments of
all other animals also, including birds ?

There is, however, another reason determining Mr. Darwin
to accept sexual selection ; and it is probably this Mr Danvin
which, in his mind, mainly gives importance to the •ffl,u;0"??d by
facts mentioned as to the plumage and motions of views-
birds. He says of " display," " It is incredible that all this
display should be purposeless " (vol. ii. p. 399) ; and again
(vol. ii. p. 93), he declares that any one who denies that the
female Argus pheasant can appreciate the refined beauty of
the plumage of her mate, "will be compelled to admit that
the extraordinary attitudes assumed by the male during the
act of courtship, by which the wonderful beauty of his
plumage is fully displayed, are purposeless ; and this is a
conclusion which I for one will never admit." It seems then
that it is this imaginary necessity of attributing purposeless-
ness to acts which determines him to attribute that peculiar
and special purpose to birds' actions which he does attribute
to them. But surely this difficulty is a mere chimaera. Let
it be granted that the female does not select; yet the
display of the male may be useful in supplying the necessary
degree of stimulation to her nervous system, and to that of
the male. As Mr. Darwin says (p. 275), the lion enraged
"tries to make himself as terrible as possible." But he
does not know that he is, and therefore does not intend
to be terrible. Is not this a parallel case to the display
of male pheasants? Pleasurable sensation, perhaps very
keen in intensity, may thence result to both. There
would be no difficulty in suggesting yet other purposes
if we were to ascend into higher speculative regions. Mr.
Darwin gives us in one p^ace a very remarkable passage;
he says : —

"With respect to female birds feeling a preference for particular
males, we must bear in miad that we can judge of choice An iimstra-
being exerted only by placing ourselves in imagination li<m-
in the same position. If an inhabitant of another planet were to
behold a number of young rustics at a fair, courting and quarrelling

V

322 LESSONS FKOM NATURE. [CHAP. X.

over a pretty girl, like birds at one of their places of assemblage, he
would be able to infer that she had the power of choice only by
observing the eagerness of the wooers to please her, and to display
their finery."— vol. ii. p. 122.

Now here it must be observed that, as is often the case,
Mr. Darwin assumes the very point in dispute, unless he
means by "power of choice" mere freedom of physical
power. If he means an internal, mental faculty of choice,
then the observer could attribute such power to the girl only
if he had reason to attribute to the rustics an intellectual
and moral nature similar in kind to that which he possessed
himself. Such a similarity of nature Mr. Darwin, of course,
does attribute to rational beings and to brutes; but those
who do not agree with him in this would require other tests
than the presence of ornaments, and the performance of
antics and gestures unaccompanied by any evidence of the
faculty of articulate speech.

Such, then, is the nature of the evidence on which sexual
selection is supposed to rest. To me, the action of sexual
selection scarcely seems more than a possibility, the evidence
rarely raising it to probability. It cannot be a " sufficient
cause " for the phenomena which it is intended to explain,
nor can it even claim to be taken as a vera causa at all.
Yet Mr. Darwin again and again speaks as if its reality and
cogency were indisputable.

The uncertainty of the alleged facts asserted in its favour
uncertain- is glaring. Thus Mr. Darwin makes much of the
hypothesis, greater number of male Lepidoptera, and yet admits
that

"Mr. Stainton, who has paid such close attention during many
years to the smaller moths, informs me that when he collected them
in the imago state, he thought that the males were ten times as
numerous as the females, but that since he has reared them on a large
scale from the caterpillar state, he is convinced that the females are the
most numerous.'' — vol. i. p. 310.

Another passage which illustrates the great uncertainly
regarding the complex facts considered, is one relating to

CHAP. X.] SEXUAL SELECTION. 323

the action of colour on the safety of woodpeckers, and is full
of " possibilities " and " doubts :"—

" As in several woodpeckers the head of the male is bright crimeon,
whilst that of the female is plain, it occurred to me that this colour
might possibly make the female dangerously conspicuous, whenever
she put her head out of the hole containing her nest, and consequently
that this colour, in accordance with Mr. Wallace's belief, had been
eliminated. This view is strengthened by what Malherbe states with
respect to Indo/iicus carlotta ; namely, that the young females, like the
young males, have some crimson about their heads, but that this colour
disappears in the adult female, whilst it is intensified in the adult male.
Nevertheless, the following considerations render this view extremely
doubtful : the male takes a fair share in incubation, and would be thus
far almost equally exposed to danger; both sexes of many species
have their heads of an equally bright crimson ; in other species the
difference between the sexes in the amount of scarlet is so slight that
it can hardly make any appreciable difference in the danger incurred ;
and lastly, the colouring of the head in the two sexes often differs
slightly in other ways." — vol. ii. p. 174.

As to the alleged action of sexual selection on our own
species two points may be noticed. Mr. Darwin seximi seioc-
considers that we owe to it our power of song and man.*""1
our hairlessness of body, and that also to it is due the for
mation and conservation of the various races and varieties of
the human species.

First, as to the absence of hair. This is a character which
Mr. Darwin admits cannot be accounted for by " natural
selection," because manifestly not beneficial ; it is therefore
attributed to " sexual selection," incipient man being sup
posed to have chosen mates with less and less hairy bodies ;
and the possibility of such action is thought by Mr. Darwin
to be supported by the fact that certain monkeys have parts
of the body naked. Yet it is a fact that the highest apes
have not this posterior nakedness, or have it in a much
smaller degree.

As to the races of mankind, Mr. Darwin's theory, indeed,
requires the alternation of constancy and caprice to account
for the selection first, and subsequently the conservation, of
marked varieties. In order that each race may possess and

Y 2

324 LESSONS FROM NATURE. [CHAP. X.

preserve its own ideal standard of beauty, we require the
trutli of the hypothesis, that " certain tastes may in the
course of time become inherited ;" and yet Mr. Darwin
candidly admits (vol. ii. p. 353), " I know of no evidence in
favour of this belief." On the other hand, he says (p. 370),
As soon as tribes exposed to different conditions came to
vary, " each isolated tribe would form for itself a slightly
different standard of beauty," which " would gradually and
inevitably be increased to a greater and greater degree." But
why have not the numerous tribes of North American
Indians diverged from each other more conspicuously, in
habiting, as they do, such different climates, and surrounded
by such diverse conditions ?

Again, far from each race being bound in the trammels of
its own features, all cultivated Europeans, whether Celts,
Teutons, or Slaves, agree in admiring the Hellenic ideal as
the highest type of human earthly beauty. Nevertheless,
this appreciation does not appear to result in such action
as is needful to support Mr. Darwin's vievv that beauty has
been developed by the agency of female selection. Mr.
Darwin (p. 374) says women would generally choose "the
handsomer men, according to their standard of taste." But
experience shows us (however much men, judging a priori
by their own sentiments, may naturally be disposed to think
the contrary) that beauty is a very small matter in women's
eyes, as in the well-known cases of Wilkes and Mirabeau.

Mr. Darwin says (p. 399) : " It seems to me almost certain
that if the individuals of one sex were during a long series
of generations to prefer pairing with certain individuals of
the other sex, characterized in some peculiar manner, the
offspring would slowly but surely become modified in this
same manner." There can be little doubt of this ; but there
is " wonderful virtue in an if."

Moreover, Mr. Darwin tells us that (vol. ii. pp. 350, 351)
" Captain Burton, a most experienced observer, believes that
a woman whom we consider beautiful is admired throughout
the world ;" and " Mr. Winwood Reade," whose opportunities

CHAP. X.] SEXUAL SELECTION. 325

of observation have been ample as to negroes, " is convinced
that their ideas of beauty are on the whole the same as
ours." Whether or not these observers are justified in the
strength of their remarks, it cannot be doubted that their
evidence demonstrates that the admiration of low types
of men for their own race is certainly far from constant and
universal.

Secondly, with regard to man's power of song, Mr. Darwin's
views are thus expressed : All the facts as to the deep and
mysterious emotions and feelings excited by music

"become to a certain extent intelligible, if we may assume that
musical tones and rhythm were used by the half-human progenitors of
man, during the season of courtship, when animals of all kinds are
excited by the strongest passions. In this case, from the deeply-laid
principle of inherited associations, musical tones would be likely to
excite in us, in a vague and indefinite manner, the strong emotions of
a long-past age. Bearing in mind that the males of some quadru-
manous animals have their vocal organs much more developed than in
the females, and that one anthropomorphous species pours forth a
whole octave of musical notes and may be said to sing, the suspicion
does not appear improbable that the progenitors of man, either the
males or females, or both sexes, before they had acquired the power of
expressing their mutual love in articulate language, endeavoured to
charm each other with musical notes and rhythm. So little is known
about the use of the voice by the Quadrumana during the season of
love, that we have hardly any means of judging whether the habit of
singing was first acquired by the male or female progenitors of man
kind. Women are generally thought to possess sweeter voices than
men, and, as far as this serves as any guide, we may infer that they
first acquired musical powers in order to attract the other sex. But if
so, this must have occurred long ago, before the progenitors of man
had become sufficiently human to treat and value their women merely
as useful slaves. The impassioned orator, bard, or musician, when
with his varied tones and cadences he excites the strongest emotions in
his hearers, little suspects that he uses the same means by which, at
an extremely remote period, his half-human ancestors aroused each
other's ardent passions, during their mutual courtship and rivalry." —
vol. ii. pp. 336, 337.

This seems to be one of the most purely gratuitous of
the many degrading suppositions so unscrupulously emitted
by Mr. Darwin. There is not the slightest evidence that
the lowest savages sing to their loves; and Mr. Wallace

320 LESSONS FEOM NATUKE. [CHAP. X.

assures us that they never choose their wives for their
voices, but for health and physical beauty. But Mr. Darwin's
theory not only does not account for, but positively conflicts
with the facts. Music is capable of producing the most
noble and lofty emotions, and especially harmonizes with and
gratifies the religious instincts. Were his theory correct,
it would be rather the most sensual and brutal instincts to
which music should minister.

While considering the question of sexual selection, it may
Mr. Francis be worth while to note in passing some passages of
view. Mr. Darwin's writing which conflict with the view

maintained by Mr. Francis Galton with respect to the injury
inflicted on society by the abstinence from marriage of in
dividuals who have devoted their lives to the practice and
propagation of beneficence. He says:*—

"Admitting for the moment that virtuous tendencies are inherited,
it appears probable, at least in such cases as chastity, temperance,
humanity to animals, &c., that they become first impressed on the
mental organization through habit, instruction, and example, continued
during several generations in the same family, and in a quite subordi
nate degree, or not at all, by the individuals possessing such virtues,
having succeeded best in the struggle for life. My chief source of
doubt with respect to any such inheritance, is that senseless customs,
superstitions, and tastes, such as the horror of a Hindoo for unclean
food, ought on the same principle to be transmitted.

"Although this in itself is perhaps not less probable than that
animals should acquire inherited tastes for certain kinds of food or fear
of certain foes, I have not met with any evidence in support of the
transmission of superstitious customs or senseless habits."

This is an important admission indeed! Again he tells
us :t —

" A man who was not impelled by any deep, instinctive feeling, to
sacrifice his life for the good of others, yet was roused to such actions
by a sense of glory, would by his example excite the same wish for
glory in other men, and would strengthen by exercise the noble feeling
of admiration.

" He might thus do far more good to his tribe than by begetting off
spring with a tendency to inherit his own high character."

* 'Descent of Man,' vol. i. p. 102. f (>j>. cit. p. ltj.>.

CHAP. X.] SEXUAL SELECTION. 327

Also :*-

" Great lawgivers, the founders of beneficent religions, great philoso
phers and discoverers in science, aid the progress of mankind in a far
higher degree by their works than by leaving a numerous progeny."

Finally, he adds :f—

" The Western nations of Europe, who now so immeasurably surpass
their former savage progenitors, and stand at the summit of civilisa
tion, owe little or none of their superiority to direct inheritance from
the old Greeks ; though they owe much to the written works of this
wonderful people."

As in considering " Natural Selection " we felt bound to
call attention to Mr. Darwin's dogmatic style, so Mr. Darwin's
calculated to overbear and unduly impress the minds style>
of those readers who from their want of special knowledge
ought to be most upon their guard, so here we are compelled
to call attention to analogous confident assertions and mis
leading assumptions of the very positions about which Mr.
Darwin is at the same time arguing.

Thus, speaking of certain birds in which the females are
the more remarkable, he attributes the fact to " the females
having become the more eager in courtship, the males
remaining comparatively passive, but apparently selecting,
as ive may infer from the results, the more attractive females.
Certain females have thus been rendered more highly coloured
or otherwise ornamented, as well as more powerful and pug
nacious than the males, these characters being transmitted
to the female offspring alone " (vol. i. p. 276).

In vol. ii. p. 15, he remarks : " If we may assume that
female fishes have the power of exerting 'a choice, and of
selecting the more highly ornamented males, the facts
become intelligible through the principle of sexual selection."
No doubt, if we may assume a fact for which there is not a
tittle of evidence, but which, as we have seen, is abundantly
contradicted by what evidence there is, it is difficult to say
what might not be explained by a series of parallel assump-

* Op. cit. p. 172. t Op. cit. p. 178.

LESSONS FKOM NATUKE. [CHAP. X.

tions. Again (p. 141) he says: "Many female progenitors
of the peacock must, during a long line of descent, have
appreciated this superiority ; for they have unconsciously, by
the continued preference of the most beautiful males, rendered
the peacock the most splendid of living birds."

He also remarks (p. 202) : " The females are most excited
by, or prefer pairing with the more ornamented males, or
those which are the best songsters, or play the best antics."
But do they do so? That they have preferences is likely
enough, but that such preferences are determined as Mr.
Darwin says they are, is the very thing to be proved, and
against which we have cited (e.g., Sir R. Heron's peacocks)
rebutting evidence. Again, at p. 37, vol. ii. he says : " On
the whole we may conclude with tolerable safety that the
beautiful colours of many lizards, as well as various ap
pendages and other strange modifications of structure, have
been gained by the males through sexual selection for the sake
of ornament, and have leen transmitted either to their male
offspring alone or to both sexes."

Once more, as to the stridulating organs of insects, he says :
" No one who admits the agency of natural selection, will
dispute that these musical instruments have been acquired
through sexual selection." Speaking of the peculiarities of
humming-birds and pigeons, Mr. Darwin observes, " The sole
difference between these cases is, that in one the result is
due to man's selection, whilst in the other, as with humming
birds, birds of paradise, &c., it is due to sexual selection, —
that is, to the selection by the females of the more beautiful
males " (vol. ii. p. 78). Of birds, the males of which are
brilliant, but the hens only slightly so, he remarks : " These
cases are almost certainly due to characters primarily acquired
by the male, having been transferred, in a greater or less
degree, to the female " (vol. ii. p. 128). " The colours of the
males may safely be attributed to sexual selection " (vol. ii.
p. 194). As to certain species of birds in which the males
alone are black, we are told " there can hardly le a doubt,
that blackness in these cases has been a sexuallv selected

CHAP. X.] SEXUAL SELECTION. 329

character" (vol. ii. p. 226). The following, again, is far
too positive a statement :— " Other characters proper to
the males of the lower animals, such as bright colours and
various ornaments, have been acquired by the more attractive
males having been preferred by the females. There are,
however, exceptional cases, in which the males, instead of
having been selected, have leen the selectors "(vol. ii. p. 371).
He also affirms (p. 191) : "Hardly any fact in nature shows us
more clearly how subordinate in importance is the direct
action of the conditions of life, in comparison with the ac
cumulation through selection of indefinite variations, than
sexual differences of birds." Again, at p. 226 he says : " Some
species which are manifestly coloured for the sake of protec
tion" "are likewise marked and shaded, according to our
standard of taste, with extreme elegance. In such cases we
may conclude that both natural and sexual selection have
acted conjointly for protection and ornament." As to
monkey tufts being acquired as ornaments, Mr. Darwin adds
(p. 286) : " If this view is correct there can be little doubt that
they have been acquired, or at least modified, through sexual
selection." Lastly he says (p. 314) : " When the colours are
diversified and strongly pronounced, when they are not de
veloped until near maturity, arid when they are lost after
emasculation, we can hardly avoid the conclusion that they
have been acquired through sexual selection."

To this catalogue of expressions, both too reiterated and
too confident, may be added an enumeration of
the more or less gratuitous hypotheses introduced ^!Sa
to support the figment of " sexual selection." Thus n
to account for the songs of birds in a state of widowhood
we have (vol. ii. p. 54), 1st, the hypothesis that " the feed
ing of such birds in confinement disturbs the reproductive
functions." 2nd, " Singing is one of the functions capable
of being so disturbed." To account for the loud voices
of many male birds we have, 3rd, " the strong voices pro
duced by passion may be inherited." 4th (p. 154), we
have the hypothesis of sexual transmission of variations.

330 LESSONS FEOM NATURE. [CHAP. X.

5th (p. 218), "that an ancient style of plumage, partially
modified through the transference of some characters from
the summer plumage, has been retained by the adults during
the winter." 6th (p. 220), to account for the young of two
species of humming-birds of Juan Fernandez, we have the
following hypothetical suggestion : " If, then, we might
assume that during some former lengthened period the males
of the Juan Fernandez species had greatly exceeded the
females in number; but that during another lengthened period
the females had greatly exceeded the males, we could under
stand how the males at one time, and the females at another
time, might have been rendered beautiful by the selection of
the brighter-coloured individuals of either sex ; both sexes
transmitting their characters to their young at a rather
earlier age than usual." 7th (p. 337), that " the varied tones
and cadences " of the " impassioned orator, bard, or musician,"
are the development of the inarticulate cries of brutes. 8th,
This last idea reposes on yet another hypothesis, namely,
that apes may have developed their more extraordinary vocal
organs in connection with the sexual instinct, and this in
spite of Mr. Darwin's own admission that " little is known
about the use of the voice in the Quadrumana during the
season of love." 9th (a second hypothesis ancillary to the
seventh hypothesis), that " musical tones and rhythm were
used by the half-human progenitors of man during the season
of courtship." 10th (a third hypothesis ancillary to the
seventh hypothesis), that if strong sexual emotions become
connected with musical tones in certain animals, then these
same tones may become connected with quite other emotions
in their descendants. llth (p. 370), that races of men
separating into tribes, each isolated tribe would form for
itself a different standard of beauty. 12th, and lastly, " that
certain tastes as to beauty may in the course of time become
inherited."

Now there is no intention here of asserting that none of
these hypotheses are true, but certainly a theory which re
quires so many hypothetical props can hardly be deemed

CHAP. X.] SEXUAL SELECTION. 331

itself to have a very secure foundation. In fact, reviewing
what has been said in preceding chapters, I am Conclusion &
confident in the belief, and I think it can be fully ££ZSLuaI
proved :—

1. That it is evident, on strictly scientific grounds, that
Mr. Darwin's hypothesis, sexual selection (the action of
which he now exaggerates as he formerly exaggerated that
of natural selection, according to his own present admission),
cannot be maintained, and refutes itself.

2. That the opposition to Mr. Darwin's hypothesis of
sexual selection will be (like that to natural selection has
been) due to this exaggeration, i.e., to the representation of
it as a main cause instead of a merely subordinate aid.

3. That Mr. Darwin utterly misses the point concerning
the real difficulty as to man's origin through evolution, and
consequently does not even tend, in the faintest degree, to
surmount the moral barrier separating man from brutes.

I am also persuaded that the failure of Mr. Darwin and
his coadjutors in their attempt to establish a mechanical ex
planation of the phenomena of the living world amounts
almost to a demonstration of the impossibility of any such
explanation, and therefore that essentially distinct vital
powers and principles really exist in nature.

Such powers may, I believe, be made evident to every un
prejudiced mind who studies the world of men, of animals,
and of plants — the world of Biology.

This is the lesson which nature seems to me to teach us
as to the processes of life in the living beings we see about
us. It remains to consider what, if anything, can be learned
from nature as to its own causes.

( 332 )

CHAPTER XI.

AN EPISODE.

" Mr. Chauncey Wright's criticism of the author's views having been
vepublished and widely circulated by Mr. Darwin, the reply to that
criticism is here reproduced."

THE subjects of natural and sexual selection having been
A digression treated of, that which should come next (the ques-
Ipedafci^ ti°u as to causes) would be immediately entered
cumstances. UpODj kut that exceptional circumstances induce a
digression which may have the effect of confirming and
substantiating views put forward in the last two chapters.
These circumstances are : (1) The publication in the ' North
American Keview,' for July 1871, of an elaborate criticism of
the ' Genesis of Species/ by a distinguished writer of the United
States, Mr. Chauncey Wright; (2) The fact that Mr. Darwin
has had this criticism republished in England and very ex
tensively circulated, a copy having been sent to almost every
known naturalist in the British Isles or abroad.

By the courtesy of the editor of the 'North American
Keview,' I was enabled to publish a reply to Mr. Chauncey
Wright's criticism in the form of a letter at the end of the
235th number of that Review, that for April 1872. Never
theless, the diffusion of that reply must necessarily have been
much less than the diffusion of the criticism in its original and
its republished form. On this account I think it well to
reproduce it here ; but there are also other reasons which
determine me to do so. (1) Mr. Darwin must have thought
Mr. Chauncey Wright's defence of him extremely important,
to have taken the steps he did in reference to it. It cannot

CHAP. XI.] AN EPISODE. ^33

therefore but be interesting to many to see the sort of defen
sive arguments upon which Mr. Darwin relies. (2) I attach a
very special value to the opinions formed in the United
States. I do so on account of the warm esteem I feel for
Americans I have had the good fortune to meet, and because
look forward to most important philosophical progress
through the people of the United States. I am therefore
anxious that my reply to the one hostile critic I have there
found should be as widely diffused as possible.

At the same time this republication necessarily entails
considerable repetition, both of remarks and quota- Ma
tions, and on this account this chapter may be Stover
passed over by any of my readers without detriment £«***
to the course of the argument followed out in the ^S1
other chapters. Only such persons need read it as are inter
ested m the Darwinian controversy, or who feel yet undecided
as to "natural selection," or who are curious to consider the
points raised by Mr. Darwin's ''selected" champion.
My reply was as follows :—

"The rapid growth of physical science and the constant
publication of ever-new observations, make such Mr. chaun-
demands on the time of naturalists, that an author StoKf*''
actively engaged upon a subject covering the whole field of
biology cannot be expected to reply directly to critics, unless
under very exceptional circumstances.

" I have to thank Mr. Chauncey Wright for havino- been
so obliging as to devote much space, and necessarily! con
siderable portion of his valuable time, to an examination of
my recent work, the < Genesis of Species.' Nevertheless I
must confess that, with all respect for his conspicuous talents
and for his deserved reputation, I should not have undertaken
the following few words of explanation but for his paper's
wide circulation in England and elsewhere by Mr. Darwin.

* Mr. Wright's criticism touches upon so many matters of
detail, that it is not altogether easy to ascertain his main
objects. Having, however, considered his remarks with that
care which my esteem for his opinions makes incumbent on

331 LESSONS FROM NATURE. [Ciur. XI.

me, I venture to express my belief that, neglecting minor
matters, bis criticism is mainly directed to the assertion of
two points.

"One of these is, that I have misrepresented Mr. Darwin's
Mainly ad- views, and have been guilty of involuntary injustice
fwo'puints. with respect to the natural forces which, according
to our great naturalist, have determined specific forms.

" The other is, that I have attributed an irreligious ten
dency to Mr. Darwin's writings which they do not, in fact,
possess; and that this is in part owing to my defective
knowledge, in part to early prejudices.

" Thus Mr. Wright speaks of my 'theological education'
and my 'schooling against Democritus.' It is a matter
of wonder to me who could have so misled Mr. Wright.
Though reluctant, in the extreme, to obtrude such private
and personal matters on the public, I must nevertheless, in
justice, observe, that my schooling has been of the very oppo
site character, and perfectly in unison with that which Mr.
Darwin himself would favour. Only at length, and with dif
ficulty, have I struggled out of that philosophy of ' nescience,'
the evils and the fallacies of which are so apparent to me
because, at one time, its doctrines so completely possessed my
assent.

"With regard to Mr. Darwin's theory of the origin of
The first of species, I should hasten eagerly to acknowledge my
these. error if I had been guilty of injustice with respect to

it, and also to thank any critic who had been so kind as to
call my attention to such unintentional unfairness. I must
confess, however, that I cannot detect that misrepresentation
in my ' Genesis of Species ' which Mr. Wright seems to there
discover.

" In common with so many others, I was, at one time, a
hearty and thorough-going disciple of Mr. Darwin, and I
accepted from him the view that Natural Selection was ' the
origin of species.' It was only by degrees, and through the
evidence of a multitude of biological facts, that an opposite
conclusion was gradually forced upon me. Having come to

CHAP. XI.] AN EPISODE. 335

that conclusion, on scientific grounds only, after careful re
consideration of those grounds and much discussion of the
subject, I ventured to publish my ' Genesis of Species.'
Therein I endeavoured to bring before the public the leading
facts which had produced the conviction in my own mind
that Natural Selection was not the origin of species, not the
main determining agent in the fixation of specific characters ;
although I allowed that it played, and necessarily must play,
a certain subordinate part.

" This conviction had forced itself on many minds before
the publication of my book, and since then has approved
itself to the minds of many more. Indeed, Mr. Darwin
himself seems to have corne round substantially, though not
avowedly, to the same opinion, and has, in his ' Descent of
Man,' implicitly admitted, though he has not yet explicitly
declared, that Natural Selection is not the origin of species. I
cannot but confess that it appears to me even Mr. Chauncey
Wright himself concedes all that for which I contend, though
he at the same time seems to imagine that he asserts the
validity of Mr. Darwin's original position.

" No one could be less disposed than I am to detract from
the great merit unquestionably due to Mr. Darwin, or to
ignore the vast impetus which his views have given to the
wide reception of the doctrine of evolution. Nevertheless,
we must not allow our just admiration for the zeal and genius
of Mr. Darwin to blind our eyes to two facts. One of these
is that an important part of Mr. Darwin's theory was not new,
but, on the contrary, very old. The other is, that though
the popular acceptance of evolution has been brought about
through him, yet that the minds of scientific men were well
prepared for, and disposed towards, evolution years before
the appearance of * The Origin of Species.'

" Biological facts, by their gradual accumulation, had long
been predisposing scientific minds to the acceptance of this
theory. I myself, indeed, fully accepted it, and I found that
a similar acceptance existed in the minds of others, notably
in that of Professor Owen. Mr. Wright, therefore, is cer-

336 LESSONS FEOM NATURE. [CHAP. XL

tainly correct in this sense when he says that ' it is not to
what is now known as "Darwinism" that the prevalence of
the doctrine of evolution is to be attributed, or indirectly
assigned.' The part of Mr. Darwin's theory which is old is
that which attributes so much importance to the destructive
powers of nature, a view advocated by Lucretius and treated
of by Aristotle in the passage quoted in my book.

" What, however, was unquestionably Mr. Darwin's own,
was the remarkable conception that this exterminating
power, acting upon organisms presenting slight variations,
so overbore all other influences as to occasion the survival of
the fittest variations, and in this way (by a process of cutting
off and limiting) fixed the characters of the different organic
species, thus becoming their origin. The origin, not, of course,
of the slight variations, but of the fixing of these in definite
lines and grooves.

" Gradually, however, the arguments of opponents have
forced upon Mr. Darwin's active mind modifications of his
views, till, as I have said, he has come to admit in principle that
Natural Selection is not the origin of species. I cannot myself
see that there is, in this change of view, anything at all dero
gatory to Mr. Darwin ; and for ray part, my esteem is strength
ened rather than weakened when I read candid admissions of
antecedent error. These admissions should not be brought
forward, save when an unscientific appeal is made to his
authority, or when an advocate more Zealous than judicious
attempts to deny that Mr. Darwin's opinions have undergone
any grave modifications. Then indeed truth and justice
demand the production of such admissions. They do so since
the assignment of the law of Natural Selection to a sub
ordinate place is manifestly an abandonment of the Dar
winian theory as originally proposed; for how can that be said
to be the origin of species which only co-operates, in an infe
rior and comparatively uniufluential manner, in determining
that origin ?

"Mr. Chauncey Wright's remarks seem to me then to
render necessarv a reference to the earlier statements of Mr.

CHAP- xr-l AN EPISODE. 337

Darwin. A number of such statements*— not, indeed, his
earliest, but from the third edition of < The Origin of Species'
-were brought forward in the July number of the 'Quar
terly .Review.' They were published for the purpose of
guarding the public from a hasty acceptance of Mr. Darwin's
dogmatic expressions, merely in deference to his authority,
and without a careful estimate of the value of the facts
brought forward by him.

"The passages referred to, seem to me to contain state
ments amply sufficient to repel Mr. Wright's charge against
me of injustice to Mr. Darwin, and to show, on the one hand
that the original theory of the origin of species was such as I
have represented it to have been ; and, on the other, that
Mr. Darwin has, in fact, abandoned the position which he
originally took up.

"We have, however, yet more explicit declarations as to
the occurrence of characters for which not only his theory
will not account, but which, in his own words, annihilate his
theory. He has told us in « The Origin of Species ' that this
fatal consequence would ensue from the discovery of cha
racters not produced by slight beneficial modifications, and
yet we now read :—

"'No doubt man, as well as every other animal, presents structures
which, as far as we can judge with our little knowledge, are not now
of any service to him, nor have been so during any former period of
his existence, either in relation to his general conditions of life, or of
one sex to the other. Such structures cannot be accounted for by any
form of selection, or by the inherited effects of the use and disuse of
parts.'

" Besides all this, in the fifth edition of ' The Origin of
Species,' p. 104, we find the following significant passage :—

Until reading an able and valuable article in the ' North British
Review' (1867), I did not appreciate how rarely simple variations
whether slightly or strongly marked, could be perpetuated.'

214 o^r £lbe/°r nd ln ,'T,he °rigin °f S*'eci< 3rd editioa> PP- 208,
H£>iA0to5?! 5,th.edltlon> P- 104. ' The Descent of Man,' vol i. pp 125
lo2, lr.4, 223 ; vol. ,1. pp. 176, 198, 387, and the postscript at. 'the begiS,,* of
the volume. • Animals and PJants under Domestication,' vol ii p 57

338 LESSONS FKOM NATUKE. [CHAP. XI.

" Finally, Mr. Darwin recognises that he was formerly
' inclined to lay too much stress on the principle of protec
tion, as accounting for the less bright colours of female
birds,' and speaks now as if what he at one time favoured in
this respect was quite an unlikely matter, saying :—

" ' Is it probable that the head of the female chaffinch, the crimson on
the breast of the female bullfinch, the green of the female chaffinch, the
crest of the female golden-crested wren, have all been rendered less
bright by the slow process of selection for the sake of protection ? /
cannot think so.'

" I also cannot think so, nor can I so think with regard to
those numerous instances brought forward in my book as
examples of characters for the origin and development of
which Natural Selection will not, I believe, account.

" Deference ought doubtless to be shown to a naturalist
such as Mr. Darwin, but deference has its limits and must
not be exercised to the sacrifice of truth, and truth compels
the recognition of the important modifications above noticed.
It is not only, however, critics that dissent from Mr. Darwin's
views who recognise the existence of these changes. Mr.
Darwin's authorized interpreter, Professor Huxley, has lately
told us the highly significant fact that Mr. Darwin is even
inclined to reply in the affirmative to the question whether
a variety ' can be perpetuated, or even intensified, when
selective conditions are indifferent, or perhaps unfavourable
to its existence.' A more complete repudiation in principle
of the origin of species by Natural Selection it would be
difficult if not impossible to imagine.

" Mr. Darwin has not, however, so far as I know, explicitly
declared what Professor Huxley tells us he is inclined to
admit. He has certainly made many important and sig
nificant admissions, but there is one more which consistency
seems to demand as the logical outcome of others above
cited : I mean the admission that the attribution to Natural
Selection of the main determining office in the fixation of
specific characters has also been ' a serious error,' whether it
be not rather a fortunate than an ' unfortunate ' one.

CHAP. XI.] AN EPISODE. 339

" Mr. Wright challenges the production of a sudden adap
tive modification of a race, wild or domesticated,
' not referable by known physiological laws to the avemodiflca-
past history of the race on the theory of evolution.'
In this statement I must in the first place object to the
introduction of the words ' on the theory of evolution,' as that
theory, far from being opposed, is, on the contrary, adopted
and contended for by me, and I do not understand how Mr.
Wright can have inserted them unless by inadvertence.
Instances, however, of modifications, the production of which
he desiderates, can readily be supplied. Thus the Cashmere
sheep, when transferred to Europe, lost their long wool in a
few generations, and this could not possibly have been due
to Natural Selection. Again, the marine animals now living
in Swedish lakes have become remarkably transformed, and
the instance noticed by Mr. Darwin as to the Mediterranean
oyster, though not evidently adaptive, is probably so, and if
so would be in point. There was however no need to bring
such cases forward, for surely it was fair to take Mr. Darwin's
own estimate of what facts he would consider fatal, and such
facts I claim to have brought forward, in sufficient number,
in my book. I can only express my profound regret that I
should be so unfortunate as to seem to Mr. Chauncey Wright
to have made an ' unfathomable translation ' of the theory of
Natural Selection. Mr. Darwin nowhere himself says, with
Mr. Wright, that the ' slightness ' of the variations he speaks
of * is only relative to the differences between the characters
of the species ;' and I cannot but think Mr. Wright himself
misconceives Mr. Darwin's meaning, for I believe the latter
gentleman would not speak of the sudden development of a
large proboscis, like that of Semnopitheeus nasalis, as a
' slight ' variation.

"An admission which Mr. Darwin makes, and which I
considered and consider to be important, is souo-ht

1 Improper in-

to be explained away by Mr. Chauncey Wright terpretattons.
in a mode I cannot think permissible. He tells us that
when Mr. Darwin says that the goose * seems to have a sin-

z 2

340 LESSONS FEOM NATURE. [CHAP. XI.

gularly inflexible organization,' Mr. Darwin's ' obvious mean
ing ' is ' that the goose has been much less changed by domes
tication than other domestic birds.' Certainly it' Mr. Darwin
had meant this, he would not have used the word ' inflexible,'
but ' unmodified,' 'inflexed,' or some equivalent expression.
To have a 'singularly inflexible organization' is to have one
which cannot without great difficulty be modified, not one
which, as a fact, has not been modified.

" Similarly where Mr. Darwin speaks of ' a whole organism
having become plastic and tending to depart from the pa
rental type,' Mr. Wright asserts that Mr. Darwin means
' capable of being moulded, or fashioned to the purpose, as
clay.' This is to credit Mr. Darwin with the enunciation of
a truism which I am sure he would never have written. The
words ' tends to depart ' * are plainly a repetition and expla
nation of the epithet 'plastic,' and fix its meaning. Mr.
Darwin here evidently predicates an existing predisposition,
and not a mere state of indifference. By ' tends to depart '
he cannot mean ' capable of being made to depart,' for that
would not indicate any influence which has effected the
' whole organization,' as by his hypothesis every organism is
' capable ' of being modified.

"I will now turn to the second matter of argument, that
Mr. Wright's m which Mr. Chauncey Wright treats of the alleged
second point. possjbiy irreligious tendencies of Mr. Darwin's
theory, and of my incompetency in physics and ignorance
of the experimental philosophy.

" He says : —

" ' Mr.^Mivart has made the mistake, which nullifies nearly the whole
of his criticism, of supposing that " the theory of Natural Selection may
(though it need not) be taken in such a way as to lead men to regard
the present organic world as formed, so to speak, accidentally, beautiful
and wonderful as is confessedly the haphazard result " (p. 33). Mr.
Mivart, like many another writer, seems to forget the age of the world

* "The omission of the words 'in a slight decree' in my book was purely
accidental. As, however, the question is one of principle, I do not see that
the omission was of any importance.

CHAP. XI.] AN EPISODE. 341

in which he lives and for which he writes— the age of " experimental
philosophy," the very standpoint of which, its fundamental assumption,
is the universality of physical causation. This is so familiar to minds
bred in physical studies, that they rarely imagine that they may be
mistaken for disciples of Democritus, or for believers in " the fortuitous
concourse of atoms," in the sense, at least, which theology has attached
to the phrase.'

" I feel a little difficulty in replying to this criticism,
because I cannot bring myself to attribute to Mr. Wright
such a misapprehension either of my meaning or of that
of the school of Democritus as seems necessary to ex
plain it.

" I would willingly suppose that an obscurity of expression
on my part is alone to blame ; but in using the word ' acci
dentally ' I qualified it by the prefix ' so to speak.' But even
had I not done so, I could not have imagined that any one
would think me unaware that the various phenomena which
we observe in nature have their respective phenomenal ante
cedents. It is extremely difficult to me to think that Mr.
Wright can suppose I held the opinion that the phenomena
of variation, &c., are not determined by definite physical
antecedents. Yet, if he does not so suppose, how can he
assert that when I use the expression 'accidentally' I mean
anything antagonistic to physical causation ?

" On the other hand, Mr. Wright cannot suppose that the
old atheistic philosophy held events to be accidental in the
strict sense, for he knows very well that Democritus and
Empedocles and their school no more held phenomena to be
undetermined or unpreceded by other phenomena than do
their successors at the present day.

" My meaning, which I rashly imagined plain enough, was
that Mr. Darwin's theory might be so taken as to n

J Design and

oppose the conception of design in the same way as accid(-'nt-
the old Ionian theory opposed that conception. That I
was fully justified in expressing such an opinion is, I con
ceive, plain, from the language employed by Mr. Darwin
himself. In his work on Animals and Plants under Domes
tication, Mr. Darwin considers the building of an edifice

342 LESSONS FKOM NATURE. [CHAP. XI.

from broken fragments of rock, and makes use even of strong
expressions of the kind referred to. He says ; —

" ' In regard to the use to which the fragments may be put, their

shape may STRICTLY be said to be accidental If the various

laws which have determined the shape of each fragment were not pre
determined for the builder's sake, can it with any greater probability
be maintained that He specially ordained, for the sake of the breeder,
each of the innumerable variations in our domestic animals and
plants ? . . . . But, if we give up the principle in one case — if we do
not admit that the variations of the primeval dog were intentionally
guided, in order that the greyhound, for instance, that perfect image
of symmetry and vigour, might be formed — no shadow of reason can
be assigned for the belief that the variations, alike in nature, and the
result of the same general laws, which have been the groundwork
through Natural Selection of the formation of the most perfectly
adapted animals in the world, MAN INCLUDED, were intentionally and
specially guided. However much we may wish it, we can hardly follow
Professor Asa Gray in his belief that " variation has been led along
certain beneficial lines," like a stream " along definite and useful lines of
irrigation." '

" Not only then may the organic world, on the Darwinian
theory, be conceived as formed in some sense accidentally,
but we have Mr. Darwin's own words for viewing that for
mation as ' STRICTLY ACCIDENTAL.' I say ' his words,' because
I am far from desiring to bind Mr. Darwin in anti-teleological
fetters. I have carefully given him credit for every theistic
expression I noticed, as it was at once my duty and my
pleasure to do.

" Here I take the opportunity of acknowledging, as I have
also done in my second edition, that an American naturalist —
Professor Theophilus Parsons, of Harvard University — put
forth, more than ten years ago, views * very similar to those
I enunciated in my ' Genesis of Species,' though they were of
course unknown to me when I published my first edition.
Mr. Wright, however, is mistaken when he states that I am
' indebted to Mr. Gal ton ' for my conception of specific
genesis, although I made use, with due acknowledgment, of

* " See the July number of the ' American Journal of Science and Art ' for
1860.

CHAP. XI.] AN EPISODE. 343

that gentleman's illustration of a conception analogous to
mine.

" Mr. Wright has been so unfortunate as to misapprehend
Mr. Murphy also. Speaking of spheres and crystals, Misappre.
that gentleman is quoted as saying :—

" 'Attraction, whether gravitative or capillary, produces the spherical
form ; the spherical form does not produce attraction.'

" Upon this Mr. Wright remarks :—

" ' No abstraction ever produced any other abstraction, much less a
concrete thing. The abstract laws of attraction never produced any
body, spherical or polyhedral.'

" But really not only has Mr. Murphy not said tliey did,
but his very expression Mr. Wright will, I am sure, regret to
see, has been changed by my critic ; and the result is, that
Mr. Murphy is unlucky enough to be blamed for what he
never said, or apparently thought of saying. This is all the
more hard because Mr. Wright goes on to observe, ' it was
actual forces acting in definite ways that made the sphere or
crystal,' which is precisely what Mr. Murphy himself said.

" Mr. Wright goes on to make a statement which I confess
is utterly beyond me. He says :—

" ' Moreover, in the case of crystals, neither these forces nor the ab
stract law of their action in producing definite crystals reside in the
finished bodies, but in the properties of the surrounding media, portions
of whose constituents are changed into crystals, according to these
properties and to other conditioning circumstances.'

" If this is so, then when a broken crystal completes itself,
the determining forces reside exclusively in the media, and
not at all in the crystal with its broken surface ! The first
atoms of a crystal deposited arrange themselves entirely ac
cording to the forces of the surrounding media, and their own
properties are utterly without influence or effect in the
result !

" To my mind, I confess, it would appear manifest that
those marvellously delicate and complex ice mosses, which
at this season occasionally fringe our walls and palings, are

344 LESSONS FEOM NATUEE. [CHAP. XI.

not due to forces residing in the atmosphere only, but also in
the crystalline particles already deposited and in course of
deposition.

" Professor Tyndall's teaching differs widely from that of
Mr. Chauncey Wright. Speaking of the formation of pyra
midal crystals of salt, he says : —

" ' The scientific idea is that the molecules act upon each other, ....
that they attract each other and repel each other at certain definite
points or poles, and in certain definite directions, and that the pyramidal
form is the result of this play of attraction and repulsion.' *

" Mr. Wright seeks to refute the parallelism asserted by
Mr. Murphy and by me to exist between crystals and
organisms, saying : —

" ' In organisms no doubt, as we may be readily convinced with
out resort to analogy, there is a great deal that is really innate, or
dependent on actions in the organism, which diversities of external
conditions modify very little, or affect at least in a very indeterminate
manner, so far as observation has yet ascertained.'

" Here Mr. Murphy and I are fortunately at liberty to
invoke in our favour the authority, once more, of Professor
Tyndall, who can hardly be deemed even by Mr. Chauncey
Wright as incompetent in ' experimental philosophy,' or as
likely to forget 'the age of the world in which he lives.' In
the little work already quoted, he tells us :f —

" ' This tendency on the part of matter to organize itself, to grow into
shape, to assume definite forms in obedience to the definite action of
force, is, as I have said, all-pervading. It is on the ground on which
you tread, in the water you drink, in the air you breathe. Incipient
life, as it were, manifests itself throughout the whole of what we call
inorganic nature.'

" Speaking of a living grain of corn, and comparing it with
a crystal, he tells us we are bound 'to conclude that the
molecules of the corn are self-posited by the forces with
which they act upon each other. It would be poor philosophy

* " ' Essnys on the Use and Limit of the Imagination in Science ' 2nd
edition, 1871, p. 57.
f " Ibid. p. 58.

CHAP. XL] AN EPISODE. 345

to invoke an external agent in the one case and to reject it in
the other.'

' Mr. Wright, however, as I have shown, invokes what is
innate in the case of organisms and rejects it in the
case of crystals and asserts that in organisms what Innate force'
is innate is so predominant in its action that external con
ditions ' modify ' them ' very little.'

" Passing over how important an admission this is against
any effective action of Natural Selection, let us see how it
tells against the analogy maintained.

^ Is not the innate force, as existing in each organism, that
which has been educed by antecedent combinations and con
ditions, just as much and no more external to it than are the
forces of the medium to each atom of a crystal? And how
does this tell in the least against the analogy which has
been asserted, and which really does exist between each che
mical unit and each organic unit ? Not of course that it is
for a moment contended that there is not, as common ob
servation tells us there is, a distinct power and principle,
' vitality,' in the one which is wanting in the other, as well
as more or less complexity of organization.

"Again, we are told, as to organisms, 'external conditions
are, nevertheless, essential factors in development, as well as
in mere increase of growth. No animal or plant is developed,
nor do its developments acquire any growth, without very
special external conditions.' Surely I hardly needed to be
solemnly informed of so very elementary a truth.

" Regarding the rules of the < inductive philosophy,' Mr.
Wright remarks :—

' ' A stricter observance of these by Mr. Murphy and our
author might have saved them from the mistake we have tive pS£°"
noticed, and from many others— the " realism " of ascribing s°Phy-"
efficacy to an abstraction, making attraction and polarity produce
structures and forms independently of the products and of the concrete
matters and forces in them.'

"In whom, or in what? and what are attraction and
polarity, if they be not forces ? Who ever considered them

346 LESSONS FEOM NATURE. [CHAP. XI.

as acting independently of themselves ? Would Mr. Wright
prefer that the earth's orbit should be spoken of not as the
resultant of gravity and centrifugal force, but as produced by
' coming together ' and ' flying away ' ? I have, of course, no
objection to that mode of expression, but I see no special
advantage in it warranting such a departure from usage. It
is singular that Mr. Wright himself, on the next page, em
ploys the very ' abstractions ' he blames others for making use
of. He there quotes approvingly the expressions ' impene
trability,' ' mobility,' and ' impulsive force of bodies,' and
says ' that gravity does really exist and act according to ' its
laws. It is difficult to see the greater sin in speaking of the
' real existence ' of polarity than of ' gravity.' Not only,
however, does Mr. Wright quote such expressions, but he
uses them himself with the greatest freedom and without
scruple whenever they suit his purpose. Thus he tells us
' that variability and selection do really exist and act,' which
appear to me quite as much abstractions as polarity or
attraction.

" Mr. Wright divides ' intellectual genius ' into three
Mr. Wright classes : No. 1, ' that which pursues successfully the
tuai genius." researches for unknown causes by the skilful use
of hypothesis and experiment ;' No. 2, ' that which, avoiding
the use of hypotheses and preconceptions altogether, and
the delusive influence of names, brings together in clear con
nections and contrasts in classification the objects of nature
in their broadest and realest relations of resemblance;' and
No. 3, ' that which seeks with success for reasons and authori
ties in support of cherished convictions.'

" I might remark on the purely arbitrary character of
this classification. But letting this pass, it must be said
that class No. 1 is but a poor monster without No. 2;
and that No. 1 is frequently, consciously or unconsciously,
also No. 3, nor would it be difficult to bring forward an
example.

" A more real distinction is that to be drawn between the
' scientific ' and the ' philosophical ' habits of mind, and under

CHAP. XL] AN EPISODE. 347

these two great genera come subordinate distinctions of dif
ferent degrees of importance. Now a naturalist may attain
great scientific eminence without being anything of a phi
losopher, and similarly a philosopher need have little ac
quaintance with physical science, but from the nature of
their respective pursuits a different character of mind tends
to be developed. It is from this distinction that we find (as
we might a priori expect to be the case) such breadth of
view, freedom of handling, and flexibility of mind on the
part of philosophers who are not naturalists as compared
with men great in physical science, who are not at the same
time philosophers ; a certain rigidity and narrowness seeming
to result from the exercise of the mind merely in the arena
of physics.

" Passing to details of criticism, Mr. Wright proceeds to
consider the question of the giraffe's neck, and I Thegiraffe.8
am asked a rather startling question : ' Can Mr. neck-
Mivart suppose that, having fairly called in question the
importance of the high-feeding use of the giraffe's neck, he
has thereby destroyed the utility of the neck altogether, not
only to the theory of Natural Selection, but also to the animal
itself?' At the first glance this looks as if I had brought
myself within the grasp of the Society for the Prevention of
Cruelty to Animals. But I may, perhaps, be permitted to
ask, in return, can Mr. Wright suppose that I ever dreamed
that the structures of animals are not useful to them, or that
my position is an altogether anti-teleological one ? Appa
rently possessed with some such idea, Mr. Wright proceeds
to exhibit the giraffe's neck in the character of a ' watch-
tower.' But this leaves the question just where it was before.
Of course I concede most readily and fully that it is a most
admirable watch-tower, as it also is a most admirable high-
reaching organ, but this tells us nothing of its origin. In
both cases the long neck is most useful when you have got it ;
but the question is how it arose, and in this species alone.
And similar and as convincing arguments could be brought
against the watch-tower theory of origin as against the high-

348 LESSONS PROM NATURE. [CiiAP. XI.

reaching theory, and not only this, but also against every
other theory which could possibly be adduced. •

" In reply to my objection as to different rate of increase
of strength and mass as the animal increases in size by the
supposed transformation, Mr. Wright remarks, that ' the
neck may have grown at the expense of the hind parts in the
ancestors of the giraffe ;' and adds, ' if we met with a man
with a longer neck than usual, we should not expect to find
him heavier, or relatively weaker, or requiring more food on
that account.' I reply, that if we should not do so it would
only be from ignorance ; for if, ceeteris paribus, a man's neck
was a quarter of an inch longer, he would necessarily and
inevitably be heavier, less strong, and requiring more food,
minute though the differences in these respects might be.

"In considering criticisms on Mr. Darwin's theory drawn
An advan- ^rom animal structures we must not forget how very
sefseed°bSy great an advantage Mr. Darwin has. He has de-
uieor^^biJh vised a theory according to which any possible
periy Wong" utility of any organ is enough to account for its
formation. It is amazing, then, that anything
whatever should be found for which his theory does not
readily account. Much wonder and admiration with regard
to that theory has been expressed, because of the way it
accounts for so many phenomena, forgetting that this is the
necessary consequence of the standpoint he has taken up.
Let us suppose, for argument's sake, that the theory is
utterly wrong ; yet, let but the world be preponderatingly
governed by intelligence and beneficence, then the results of
that very intelligence and beneficence exhibited in organisms
can be made use of to destroy the conception of those qualities
in their supreme cause, and to substantiate a theory which,
by our supposition, is utterly devoid of truth. It is on this
account that Natural Selection can never be completely proved
or disproved by physical science in a posteriori investigation,
for it will be always open to one side to say the utility
not yet shown in any given structure will be shown later,
and to the other side to say whatever utility you show,

CHAP. XL] AN EPISODE. 349

though existing in an organ, was not the cause of that
organ.

" This was no doubt felt by the earlier opponents of Mr.
Darwin, who naturally opposed him on a priori grounds, and
the same feeling has led his supporters to desiderate criticism
from the physical-science standpoint, which can never be
quite conclusive, and can only be approximative^ so by going
into great detail. And this, when done, they in turn affect
to sneer at as ' minute.''

" Mr. Chauncey Wright's remarks on mimicry do not call
for reply, as it is now conceded that imitation Criticalde.
occurs where Natural Selection cannot have de- tails-
veloped it. In reply to my criticism as to the origin of the
mammary gland, my opponent suggests that its development
may have been produced by a young mammal's clinging by
suction to the body of its dam, this clinging causing sebaceous
glands to be hypertrophied, and this hypertrophy causing their
secretion to become nutritious. I confess this seems to me an
extreme supposition.

" With regard to sexual selection, Mr. Chauncey Wright
asks, ' Is it credible Mr. Mivart can suppose that the higher
or spiritual emotions, like affection, taste, conscience, ever
act directly to modify or compete with the more energetic
lower impulses, and not rather by forestalling and indirectly
regulating them ?' I answer, unhesitatingly, ' Yes ;' and in
return say, ' Is it credible Mr. Chauncey Wright can suppose
they do not ?'

" As to apes, it is enough to reply, that other animals are
also kept in cages, but do not exhibit the phenomena to which
I referred.

" Passing to the hoods and rattles of poisonous snakes, Mr.
Wright asserts that if ' their " warnings " are also used against
intended victims, they can only be used either to paralyse
them with terror or allure them from curiosity,' &c. Has
Mr. Wright then never observed the tail of a cat when the
animal is watching a mouse ?

" A somewhat singular exhibition of the use of the imagi-

350 LESSONS FKOM NATUEE. [CHAP. XI.

nation occurs where Mr. Wright tells us it may be that ' the
rattle will serve all the purposes that drums, trumpets, and
gongs do in human warfare. The swaying the body and
vibrating tongue of most snakes, and the expanding neck,
and the hood of the cobra, may serve as banners.' I must
submit to be blamed for my ' poverty of resources ' by one
whose ' reason ' is supplemented by so active an imaginative
faculty.

" In reviewing my chapter on Independent Similarities of
Structure, Mr. Wright replies to my remarks as to

An objection •

mathema"a characters in placental and implacental mammals
which are similar, indeed, but not similar through
inheritance : —

" ' Our author .... has incautiously left a hostile force in his
rear. He has claimed in the preceding chapter for Natural Selection
that it ought to have produced several independent races of long-
necked Ungulates, as well as the giraffe ; so that, instead of pursuing
his illustrations any further, we may properly demand his surrender.'

" But such a demand would be futile ; the cases, in fact,
being quite dissimilar. With regard to the Ungulates we
have the action of similar causes upon organisms which, by
the hypothesis, are closely alike ; in the case of the placental
and implacental beasts we have similar causes acting upon
organisms which, by the hypothesis, are fundamentally
different.

" Certainly, then, if Mr. Darwin's theory is true, we ought
to have, in the first case, many similar forms developed ; and
we ought not to have such in the second case. It is just the
difference between adding equals to equals and equals to
unequal s.

" Passing over Mr. Chauncey Wright's exposition * of our
Lord's discourse to Nicodernus (in which, I fear, few Dar-

* " Mr. Wright speaks of ' the symbols water and the Spirit, which Christians
have ever since worshipped.' It is certainly difficult to remember the mul
titude of sects which have appeared since the dawn of Christianity, but the
existence of any body of loafer-worshippers strikes me as a novelty.

CHAP. XL] AN EPISODE. 351

winians will take any interest), I proceed to notice what
Mr. Wright exhibits as ' a good illustration ' of the An illustra.
origin of species by Natural Selection in the shape g^tVofa
of ' the growth of a tree.' It is so, he tells us : —

" ' For its branches are selected growths, or few out of many thousands
that have begun in buds ; and this rigorous selection has been effected
by the accidents that have determined superior relations in surviving
growths to their supplies of nutriment in the trunk, and in exposure
to light and air. This exposure (as great as is consistent with secure
connection with the sources of sap) seems actually to be sought, and
the form of the tree to be the result of some foresight in it. But the
real seeking process is budding, and the geometrical regularity of the
production of buds on twigs has little or nothing to do with the
ultimate selected results, the distributions of the branches, which are
different for each individual tree.'

" Now, I willingly accept this illustration, which I propose
to turn round and make use of against its author's view, and
for the purpose of showing that it exemplifies, not ' the origin
of species by Natural Selection,' but the origin of species by
innate law, modified by the subordinate action of Natural
Selection.

" For, in fact, does not every one know that, in spite of these
external influences, each kind of tree has a certain general
character of growth which is definite and unmistakable. The
oak, the fir, the birch, &c., each has its own special fades.
Mr. Wright does not deny this ; he says :—

" ' The general resemblance of trees of a given kind depends on no
formative principle other than physical and physiological properties in
the woody tissue, and is related chiefly to the tenacity, flexibility, and
vascularity of this tissue, the degrees of which might almost be inferred
from the general form of the tree.'

" Precisely so. But on what do these physical and physio
logical properties depend? It is useless to endeavour to
avoid the admission ; we shall always be compelled by reason
to confess the existence, in each seed, of a principle, an
intimius principium conditioning the evolution of the plant
according to its nature and laws. To deny that there is
a something giving unity to the composite whole, and unity

352 LESSONS FROM NATURE. [CHAP. XL

of a definite kind, is to contradict the plain evidence of our
senses and our reason.

" This internal principle it is which produces the character
of each tree's growth, while the special details are determined
by the action of external influences upon it. Just in the
same way, I believe, that an innate predisposing cause pro-
daces the evolution of new species ; the special details being
determined by subordinate agencies, and amongst them that
of Natural Selection. Mr. Wright's illustration suits me so
well I will pursue it yet further. He observes : —

" ' If we could study the past and present forms of life, not only in
different continents, which we may compare to different individual
trees of the same kind, or better, perhaps, to different main branches
from the same trunk and roots, but could also study the past and
present forms of life in different planets, then diversities in the general
outlines would probably be seen similar to those which distinguish dif
ferent kinds of trees, as the oak, the elm, and the pine ; dependent, as
in these trees, on differences in the physical and physiological properties
of living matters in the different planets — supposing the planets, of
course, to be capable of sustaining life, like the earth, or, at least, to
have been so at some period in the history of the solar system.'

" Precisely so once more ! In each case forms would be
evolved in accordance with that innate potentiality which
God has implanted in each case in the matter of which such
planet was composed. Not that there, any more than here,
all that was potential would become actual, but that the
innate potentiality, modified by external influences, would be
determined in special forms in the production of which the
innate power, not the external conditions, would be the main
evolving agent.

" Mr. Wright seems to consider that the use of such words
vitaiforcos as'P°^arity' and 'luminosity' tends to discourage
the investigation of the laws and conditions by and
through which such properties are manifested. Mr. Wright
tells us somewhat dogmatically that ' definite vital aggrega
tions and definite actions of vital forces exist, for the most
part, in a world by themselves.' I should be the last to
deny the distinctness of ' vitality,' but that certain con-

CHAP. XI.] AN EPISODE. 353

ditions may determine its sudden and definite manifestation,
is maintained more strongly than ever by some men of
science, and amongst them Dr. JBastian. There is one ex
pression of Mr. Wright's which it will be well to notice ; he
says : ' It is not impossible that vital phenomena themselves
include orders offerees as distinct as the lowest vital are from
chemical phenomena. May not the contrast of merely vital
or vegetative phenomena with those of sensibility be of such
order ?' I notice with pleasure this hopeful expression. It
is most true that there are these differences of order, but
there is one more yet. The intellectual or rational order is
as distinct from the merely sensible as is the sensible from
the vegetative, or this last from the chemical. Here we
touch the one great and fatal error of so many of our leading
naturalists. The confusion of intellect with sensation, of
reason with the association of sensible images is, I am per
suaded, the fundamental speculative vice of the day. Before
concluding this reply there are a few more objections which
Mr. Wright does me the honour to make, that must be
noticed one after the other.

" I am represented as passing an unfair judgment because
I say that, though feeling myself incompetent to Verbal criti.
advance an opinion as to the correctness of Sir cisms-
William Thomson's astronomical calculations, I yet assert
' that the fact that they have not been refuted pleads strongly
in their favour, when we consider how much they tell against
the theory of Mr. Darwin.' For my part I am unable to see
how an incompetence for judging astronomical calculations
necessarily carries with it an incompetence for judging of
the probability of their truth, resulting from their non-refuta
tion by those whose interest would lead them to refute, and
who possess the knowledge and ability to enable them ably
to handle the requisite questions and calculations.

" Again, Mr. Wright does not ' see how, with such uncer
tain " fortuitous, occasional, and intermitting " elements,' I
' could have succeeded in making any calculations at all.' I
venture to think, however, that an inability to determine the

2 A

354 LESSONS FEOM NATURE. [CHAP. XI.

positive time required for the occurrence of certain phenomena
in no way involves an inability to fix a minimum period for
their development.

"Again, in criticising the use of the words 'contrivance'
and ' purpose,' Mr. Wright tells us, ' the relations of a ma
chine to its uses may be considered in good sound English as
contrivances and purposes without thinking of what the in
ventor intended.' Now I deny that we can so speak without
implicit reference of the kind, though we need not make
direct or explicit reference. We are also told that 'the
proper meaning of the word " intention " ' is ' concentration, and
the not intending of something else.' I should be glad of
some reference to authorities as regards this assertion. As
a fact the word is used in the sense I have assigned to it.
Finally Mr. Wright gives us the application of these new
definitions. He affirms that Mr. Darwin is not irrational in
asking whether ' the Creator intentionally ordered ' certain
phenomena because we cannot reasonably make use of the
term * intention ' in reference to the Creator at all.

" It is evident, however, that in Mr. Darwin's opinion we
can speak of Divine intention in some things, otherwise he
would not ask whether we could do so or not even in these.
It would be quite superfluous for any one who believed we
could do so in no case to ask the question with regard to
certain special cases. The criticism merely amounts to saying
that both Mr. Darwin and I, instead of using the word
'intention,' should employ some other word, possibly 'ad
vertence.' This leaves the substance of my remarks and
my criticism of Mr. Darwin quite unimpaired and in full

force.

" Thus I venture to urge, in opposition to my critic, that

far from misinterpreting Mr. Darwin, I have been

enabled to bring out more clearly what are his exact

position and teaching now, by denning more exactly what

was his original theory of the origin of species.

" Also, that though by no means necessarily involving
irreligious or anti-teleological conceptions, there is no slight

CHAP. XL] AN EPISODE. 355

danger of the strengthening of these errors by a certain use of
the Darwinian theory.

"My little book was directed to two objects— one to show
that Natural Selection is not the origin of' species ; the other,
that evolution is perfectly compatible with the strictest
Christian orthodoxy : and, in spite of my esteem for Mr.
Chauncey Wright, and a careful and respectful consideration
of all that he has urged, I cannot at present see my way to
retracting or even modifying, in deference to his criticism,
even a single passage of my work on 'The Genesis of
Species.' "

2 A 2

( 356 )

CHAPTEE XII.

CAUSES.

" Truths vouched for by the intellect as positively necessary truths,
compel our acceptance of a First Cause with power, knowledge, wisdom
and goodness, and therefore prove the existence of final causes also —
the existence of a personal God being the ultimate lesson taught by
Nature, that as to its own cause."

AT the end of the tenth chapter it was said that the task of
The axiom of considering what, if anything, can be learned from
causation. Nature as to its own Causes yet remained. This
great question has (unavoidably as it seems) been already
incidentally adverted to and briefly noticed, but it is now
time to consider it deliberately and expressly.

In the second chapter it was sought to establish the pro
position that what the mind positively declares to be abso
lutely, necessarily, and universally true, is true. One such
proposition is that respecting causation, as any one can test by
an act of introspection. The proposition referred to, is the
axiom that " every new existence and every change must have a
cause" and another, equally evident, is that everything must
either he absolute or caused.

The natural world displays before our eyes an indefinitely
continuous series of phenomenal changes, all of which we
know have their appropriate physical causes — causes very
generally capable of discovery by the physical sciences.
science Science reveals to us an apparently endless series
banning. of passed phenomenal changes and indicates an
indefinite series to come, but it does not distinctly and
unequivocally point to any beginning. It is quite con-

CHAP. XII.] CAUSES. 357

ceivable that the stellar universe may in seons of time
unceasingly pulsate alternately to and fro from a condition of
scattered suns, planets, and satellites, such as we are frag-
mentarily acquainted with now, to the condition of an uni
versally diffused nebular mist. It is also conceivable that a
similar change may eternally creep over the Cosmos of suns
and worlds, so that each part in its turn, but never the whole
simultaneously, may undergo such transformation. Eeason
certainly does not affirm that such changes may not have
proceeded in cycles from all eternity, owing to an eternal
collocation of causal factors. If such collocation But either to
and factors be the absolute, then the universe and FtafcSSf
its cause are one — in a word we have Pantheism.

The consideration of Pantheism cannot be entered on
here ; that Protean form of error, as I believe, requires con
sideration in a separate work. It may however be at once
remarked that, apart from other a priori considerations of
reason, by which I believe that it can be adequately re
futed, it can be so by the positive declarations of our reason
in the matter of morality. Introspection has shown us that
there is an absolute distinction between good and evil ; but
Pantheism necessarily denies that, with every other absolute
distinction. Therefore unless the positive declarations of our
intellect as to necessary truth deceive us (in which case we
are driven into scepticism and can argue no longer, nor even
conclude that we cannot conclude), Pantheism must be false.

If we accept the other alternative, if, that is, we say that
such collocation and factors are not the absolute, then they,
like everything else, must be caused. That they can be really
fortuitous, is what no modern philosopher would assert,
chance being now everywhere recognised as a mere term
denoting our ignorance of causes and conditions.

But if such collocation and factors (which lie as it were at
the base of the phenomenal universe) be caused, oronedis-
they cannot be caused by all that series of phe- l^ll™^
nomena of which they are the condition, still less by
any part of that series. They must therefore be caused

358 LESSONS FEOM NATUEE. [CHAP. XII.

by something external to them ; i.e., by something dis
tinct from the phenomenal series itself. But if the phe
nomenal universe be eternal, this cause must also be
eternal. It must be absolute, as the cause of everything
phenomenal and relative. It must be orderly and intelligent,
as the first and absolute cause of an orderly series of phe
nomena which reveals to us an objective intelligence in the
Bee and the Ant, which is not that of the animals them
selves, and which harmonizes with and is recognised by our
own intellect. It must be adequate to produce all the phe
nomena which our powers of observation and introspection
tell us have been produced, such as power, intelligence,
morality, and will. We thus, as it seems, arrive necessarily
at the conception of an absolute First Cause, and an accept
ance of that conception as a truth demonstrated to us by
Reason. But an absolute First Cause, which amongst its
attributes has power, intelligence, goodness, and volition,
such as find their faint and inadequate types in our own
faculties, necessarily involves another and second kind of
causation. It must, as "Will," have such an intensity of
" purpose " that no human purpose can be comparable with
Together it. Hence necessarily follows the second kind of

with final . i /? 7 7 • /

causation. causation just referred to, namely, final causality —
the enchainment of all phenomena and their adapta
tion to ends in a hierarchy of augmenting activities from
celestial revolutions and the attractions and cohesions of
sidereal masses through vegetable life and animal sen-
tiency up to self-consciousness and free volition ; so that
from kingdom to kingdom (mineral, vegetable, animal and
rational) the creation may rise towards an ideal, by suc
cessively higher degrees of participation in the perfection of
the First Cause itself.

Whether this teleological conception, this idea of final
causation, can be gathered from mere irrational nature
directly or not, it can most certainly be obtained from a
consideration of nature in its broadest sense — nature of
\\hich our own self-consciousness forms a part. This, then,

CHAP. XII.] CAUSES. 359

is the last and the highest lesson which Nature has to teach
us — the revelation of its own causation and the indication
(through the sentient and rational faculties of creatures) of
the being and attributes of its First Cause and Author,
which, as absolute Power, Intelligence, Goodness, and Will,
is and must be God.

But does this conception afford us any natural key where
with to unlock the mysteries of the mode of God's Thussuppiy-
manifestation in nature, the meaning of the un- Evolution.0
ceasing changes it presents — the great process of Evolu
tion ? I believe it does. The First Cause must not only
have a purpose, but, as intelligent, he cannot be self-
contradictory, and hence necessarily follows the continuity
of cosmical evolution. By the union of these two laws,
(1) continuity and (2) final causality, the whole phenomena
of the universe — physical, biological, political, moral, and
religious — may be explained and understood as a continuous
evolution towards & preordained end.

Mr. Herbert Spencer has elaborated a vast and coherent
conception of the whole process of evolution, which Mr. spencer's

1 , i • i -,. , evolutionary

he represents as taking place according to an uni- formula. '
versal law of progress from a state of unstable uniformity
having few and indefinite characters to a state of stable
diversity with a multitude of definite characters. He con
ceives that everything in the material universe is proceeding,
in his own words, "from an indefinite incoherent homogeneity
to a definite coherent heterogeneity." He brings forward, how
ever, no explanatory basis of this law. His system enables
us to see neither the origin, the ultimate future, nor the sus
taining principle of such evolutionary process. The philo
sophy here advocated, on the contrary, shows us the origin,
basis, and outcome of this great process, by means of those
fundamental truths which occupied us in the first two
chapters. By means of our knowledge of the self-conscious,
persistent Ego, with its power of knowing positive, objective,
necessary truth, we have arrived at the conception of a
necessary First Cause with intelligence and will, and conse-

360 LESSONS FROM, NATUEE. [CHAP. XII.

quently, as just said, the cause of an universe with both
continuity and purpose.

We have also seen, in the succeeding chapters, how the
-Purpose" process of evolution, as carried through the material

as shown in

Nature. world, shows us the development from potentiality
into actuality of successively new forms. We cannot indeed
imagine the ultimate " how " of their production (which as
being beyond experience is necessarily beyond imagination),
but we recognise the fact that they are so evolved ; and we
have, in some cases, already gleaned a few of the conditions
of their evolution. In passing to the vegetable world from
the mineral kingdom, we behold manifested, for the first
time, a vital form, or force. In passing to the animal world
from the vegetable kingdom, we behold manifested, for the
first time, a sentient form. In passing to the human world
from the kingdom of brute animals, we behold manifested,
for the first time, a rational form.

Thus modern science shows us plainly the truth proclaimed
of old — that a successively increasing fulfilment of purpose
runs through the irrational creation up to man. The in
organic world can do without the organic, but not vice versa.
The vegetable world can exist without the animal, but not
vice versa. The animal world can do without the rational
world as experienced by us, but not vice versa. Cosmical
entities and their laws do, then, serve organic being more
than inorganic, sentient being more than insentient, rational
being more than sentient. Therefore if there is inten
tion and will in the First Cause at all (and we have seen
that to deny it is to contradict reason), He must have
willed most service to man of all the multitude of creatures
which our senses make known to us. It is not surprising
then that we find the same law of progress to extend through
the evolution of human society. In politics, in law, in science,
in art, and in religion, we find the same law of evolution —
continuity and final causality resulting in the manifestation of
increasingly stable, coherent, definite, and complex varieties
of being.

CHAP. XII.] CAUSES. 361

Hence we get the formal law of Cosmical Evolution —
whereof Mr. Spencer's law is the material expres- v

*• Formal law

sion. Inis formal law may be defined as the con- of Kvolution-
tinuous progress of the material universe by the unfolding
of latent potentialities through the action of incident forces
(i.e., through the interaction of its parts) in harmony with
a preordained end, such unfolding exhibiting a succession
of changes from indefinite, incoherent homogeneity to definite
coherent heterogeneity.

But if the conception of an Infinite and Absolute Being,
Omniscient, Omnipotent, and Holy, be thus taught Non-theistic
by Nature, what are the causes of its non-acceptance spencer's/'
by prominent teachers of science and philosophy in our own
day ? What reasons are brought forward against it ?

Mr. Herbert Spencer is the most decided upholder of the
necessity and truth of a conception of a First Cause. But
this he speaks of as the Unknowable, and denies our right
to ascribe to it any attribute other than existence, or to
attribute to it personality. But, in the first place, not to
speak of it by that term is practically to degrade it to a lower
level than ourselves, though this is by no means Mr. Spencer's
intention. It thas this practical effect, because we cannot
conceive anything as impersonal and yet of a higher nature
than our own. And, indeed, this circumstance is not owing
to a mere mental impotence, but to a positive and clear per
ception. For to be a person, means to be a being possessing
knowledge and will; and any being which has not these
faculties must be indefinitely inferior to one which has them.
The First Cause, as the cause of all knowledge — including
knowledge of good and evil, and all power of will — must be
adequate to their production. He must possess therefore
attributes analogous to these qualities as known in ourselves,
though of course infinite in degree. Personality therefore
must be predicated of the First Cause, under pain of violating
the primary dicta of our reason.

The inadequacy and, to speak plainly, the absurdity of this
"Unknowable" has been considered in the twelfth chapter

362 LESSONS FROM NATUKE. [CHAP. XII.

of the ' Genesis of Species,' as also its bearing on our con
ceptions of religion, which Mr. Spencer pretends through
it to reconcile with science ; though as to such reconciliation
Mr. Lewes truly observes * that we can never " successfully
found a Religion on the admission of this unknowable ; for
Religion, which is to explain the universe and regulate life,
must be founded on the known and knowable relations."
But, indeed, Mr. Spencer's system necessarily negatives every
form of religion, since he distinctly affirms that " Theism "
is " incredible," and that no " form of Religion " is " even
thinkable."

Professor Huxley, however, tells us that the necessity of a
professor belief in a personal God, in order to a religion worthy
of the name, " is a matter of opinion !" Of course the
word religion may be employed in some unusual sense. I re
collect reading of a certain Emersonian who, having accom
panied his wife to see Fanny Elsler dance, and being charmed,
remarked to her during the performance — "Margaret, this
is poetry." To which his wife replied — "No, Paul, it is
religion!" Of such religion I willingly make a present to
Professor Huxley. But, apart from such bizarre employ
ments of the word, I firmly adhere to my proposition. I
know that Buddhism, though "a religion," is sometimes
asserted to be atheistic ; but the Buddhistic conception of a
power or principle apportioning after death rewards and
punishments according to a standard of virtue, necessarily
involves the existence of an entity, which, as being most
powerful, intelligent, and good, is virtually, and logically, a
personal God, whatever may be the name habitually applied
to it.

I do not know what precise meaning Professor Huxley
himself would give to the word religion. He speaks of
" worship, « for the most part of the silent sort,' at the altar
of the Unknown and Unknowable," but he has not (as far as
I recollect) explained to us as yet the full and exact nature

' Problems of Life and Mind,' vol. ii. p. 453.

CHAP. XII.] CAUSES. 363

and tenets of that religion the ritual of which is thus hinted
at. Mr. Darwin's conception of religion is, however, suffi
ciently definite. He tells us * that it consists " of love, com
plete submission to an exalted and mysterious superior, a
strong sense of dependence, fear, reverence, gratitude, hope
for the future, and perhaps other elements."

Let us apply this to the Unknown and the Unknowable.
" Love " for that of which we can by no possibility The Un_
know anything whatever, and to which we may as knowable-
reasonably attribute hideousness and all vileness, as beauty
and goodness! "Dependence" on that of which treachery
and mendacity may be as much characteristics as are faith
fulness and truth ! " Keverence " for an entity, whose quali
ties, if any, may resemble as much all we despise as all
we esteem, and which, for all we know, may be indebted
to our faculties for any recognition of its existence at all !
" Gratitude " to that which we have not the faintest reason
to suppose ever willingly did anything for us, or ever will !
"Hope" in what we have no right whatever to believe
may not, with equal justice, be a legitimate cause for despair
as pitiless, inexorable, and unfeeling, if capable of any sort
of intelligence whatever.

This is no exaggeration. Every word here put down is
strictly accurate, for if that which underlies all things is to us
the unknowable, then there can be no reason to predicate of
it any one character rather than its opposite. If, on the
other hand, we have any reason to predicate goodness rather
than malice, nobility rather than vileness, then let preachers
of the unknowable abandon their unmeaning jargon, for it is
no longer with the unknowable we have to deal, and we are
plunged at once into a whole world of as distinctly dogmatic
theology as can be conceived — a theology the dogmas of
which are profoundly mysterious, while they are even more
trying, and at the same time more illuminating, to the
reason, than any others of the whole catena which logically
follow.

* ' Descent of Man,' vol. i. p. 63.

364 LESSONS FROM NATURE. [CHAP. XII.

The objections drawn from natural science to a belief in
Five objcc- a Divine First Cause, which have been of late made

tions to 11-11

Theism. popular, seem to be reducible to five heads.

The first of these is that "wisdom "and "purpose" are
not discernible in nature ; but rather that its failures, 'and
the prodigal waste (as of germs) which it shows, contradict
the conception of final causes altogether.

The second objection is that " Omnipotence " cannot be
predicated of a rational and good Author of Nature, because
of the failures just referred to and the suffering which every
where exists.

The third objection is that " morality " must be denied to
the First Cause on account of the pain and death strewn
broadcast over the world, and on account of the un worthiness
of some natural productions.

The fourth objection is one which really applies only to
those who feel themselves rationally compelled to regard the
First Cause as a Creator. But as a distinguished school of
philosophy, though not that advocated here, accepts that
view, and as it is one necessarily held by Christians as a
revealed truth, it may be well here to refer to it. This
fourth objection is that the acceptance of Evolution negatives
a belief in Creation.

The fifth objection is that the conception of a personal
God is a pure figment of the human imagination, and, as
anthropomorphic, is necessarily false ; as also that it is belied
by the material world, which evidently is not formed and
governed (if governed at all) as it would be by an Anthro
pomorphic Deity.

The position here taken up is the same as that maintained
in the 'G-enesis of Species '—namely, that the attributes of
the first cause are (as has been before said) to be gathered from
the consideration of nature as a whole, of nature including
man, and not from the consideration of irrational nature onlv.

A Divine First Cause is recognised by our intellect as a
necessary consequence of our perception of necessary truth
and of absolute morality.

CHAP. XII.] -CAUSES. 365

This Divine First Cause, thus recognised by our intellect
as necessarily existing, is more or less qualitatively revealed
to us in the material universe according as we extend the
sphere of our observations. It is concealed most completely
when the inanimate creation is alone considered. It seems
to assume a Pantheistic form when we rise no higher than
the brute creation. If man alone occupies our attention, a
narrow anthropomorphic Deism may be the result ; but from
a sympathetic study of the whole universe — the mineral,
vegetable, animal, and human creations, including intellect,
morality, and will — the conception of Almighty God becomes
naturally and distinctly revealed to the human intellect.

Sir William Hamilton has said : * " Nature conceals God,
and man reveals Him." This is too unqualified a statement.
Bather, physical nature reveals to us one side of the Deity,
while the moral world brings us in contact with another,
and at first, to our apprehension, a very different one ;
though the difference may be soon perceived to proceed, not
from reason, but from a want of flexibility of the imagina
tion — a want so exceedingly common, especially amongst
those whose minds have been long immersed in physical
studies only.

" The theist, having arrived at his theistic convictions from
quite other sources than a consideration of zoological or
botanical phenomena, comes to the consideration of such
phenomena and views them in a theistic light, without, of
course, asserting or implying that such light has been derived
from them" t

The only part that irrational nature can be reasonably
called upon to play in this matter is the part of a test as to
the validity of our conceptions concerning the First Cause
derived from a contemplation of nature as a whole and
primarily of our own human nature.

Let us apply then this test to the first of the five objec-

* ' Lectures on Metaphysics and Logic,' vol. i. Lecture ii. p. 40.
t ' Genesis of Species,' 2nd edition, p. 296.

366 LESSONS FKOM NATUKE. [CHAP. XII.

tions above mentioned, namely, that to our conception of
First objec- " wisdom " and " purpose " as attributes of the First
gaut/ofdNa- Cause. As has been said, these objections are often
drawn from nature's seemingly blind prodigality,
when " of a thousand seeds she often brings but one to bear."
Mr. Lewes, with this idea in his mind, asks* whether we
should consider that man wise, who spilt a gallon of wine in
order to fill a wine-glass ?

To this sort of objection it may be replied that even man has
often several distinct intentions and motives for a single act ;
and any one who believes in God can have no difficulty in
supposing that the purpose of any natural process, as it is
apparent to the human observer, may be but an exceedingly
subordinate one out of an infinite number of motives in the
Divine mind. Baden Powell has well asked : f " How can
we undertake to affirm, amid all the possibilities of things of
which we confessedly know so little, that a thousand ends
and purposes may not be answered, because we can trace
none, or even imagine none, which seem to short-sighted
faculties to be answered in these particular arrangements ?"

But even we are often able to detect utilities which become
apparent long after events, which at first were apparently
purposeless, have taken place. As an illustration of long
latent utility, the immense coal deposits may be cited. On
this subject Professor Huxley remarks : " Let us suppose that
one of the stupid salamander-like Labyrinthodonts, which
pottered with much belly and little leg, like Falstaff in his
old age, among the coal-forests, could have had thinking
power enough in his small brain to reflect upon the showers
of spores which kept on falling through years and centuries,
while perhaps not one in ten million fulfilled its apparent
purpose, and reproduced the organism which gave it birth."
And the writer goes on to imagine the creature " moralising
upon the thoughtless and wanton extravagance which nature
displayed in her operations !" Yet this " thoughtless extra-

* ' Fortnightly Review,' July 1867, p. 100.
t ' Unity of Worlds,' Essay ii. p. 260.

CHAP. XII.] CAUSES. 367

vagance " has resulted in providing us with our coal treasure
— a worthy gift of thoughtful and provident beneficence.

But the idea of God implies the one cause of all the pro
cesses of nature. He wills and intends them all, and there
fore whatever results must be a fulfilment of His intention.
When the matter of the artist's or the philosopher's brain
comes to feed worms, it fulfils God's purpose no less than
when it energises in creations of genius or of wisdom. It is
as impossible for any accident to defeat the purpose of Him
whose will ordains every process, as it is for the irreligious
man, by his voluntary revolt and anti-religious efforts, to do
other than stultify himself by hastening on the fulfilment of
God's own purpose.

It may not be uninteresting to some of my readers to see
how clearly this conception, which seems so to escape An old an_
the grasp of our modern " advanced " thinkers, was swer>
a familiar idea in the thirteenth century. St. Thomas
Aquinas * on this matter says : " Quod si aliqua causa parti-
cularis deficiat a suo effectu, hoc est propter aliquam causam
particularem impediantem qua3 continetur sub ordine causse
universalis. Unde effectus ordinem causse universalis nullo
modo potest exire." . . . . " Sicut indigestio contingit praeter
ordinem virtutis nutritive ex aliquo impedimento, porta ex
grossitie cibi, quam necesse est reducere in aliam causam, et
sic usque ad causam primam universalem. Cum igitur Deus
sit prim a causa universalis non unius generis tantum, sed
universaliter totius cutis, impossibile est quod aliquid contin-
gat proeter ordinem divine gubernationis ; sed ex hoc ipse
quod aliquid ex una parte videtur exire at ordine divinae
providentiee, quo consideratur secundam aliquam particula
rem causam, necesse est quod in eundem ordinem relabatur
secundum aliam causam."

The second objection (that to the Omnipotence of the
First Cause), in so far as it relates to failure of sec
purpose, has been answered in answering the first t]

* < Summa Theol.,' p. i. Q. 19, A. 6, and Q. 103, A. 7.

368 LESSONS FEOM NATURE. [CHAP. XII.

objection ; in so far as it relates to the wide diffusion of suf
fering, it may be answered in answering that which follows.
Third objec- The third objection, then, that to God's goodness,
death. made partly on account of the pain and death
diffused through the world, and partly on account of the
seeming un worthiness of some natural products, may now be
considered.

As regards the sufferings of living men and women, a belief
in the immortality of the soul (which, as we shall see, follows
as one of the consequences of the propositions the truth of
which is supported in this and in the preceding chapters) suf
ficiently does away with the force of the objection in their
regard. Granted a Deus unus et remunerator together with
this immortality, and it becomes readily conceivable that the
sufferings of this life may be hereafter looked upon by us as
truly blessings in disguise. Indeed, paradoxical as the ques
tion may sound, it may be asked, Could we, even apart from
these beliefs, afford to lose pain and suffering altogether ?
All that is most admirable and beautiful in human life and
character would be lost were there no opportunities or occa
sions for generous self-denial, loving pity, tender compassion,
and ardent philanthropic effort.

The difficulty then lies in the sufferings of the brute

sufferings of creation, and this is a difficulty now felt very

widely and with extreme acuteness by those who

possess the tenderest hearts and natures the most worthy of

our esteem and regard.

Nevertheless, I believe that the difficulty felt is mainly
owing to a misconception, namely, to that inverted anthro
pomorphism (treated of in Chap. VII.) which makes men
and women so generally attribute experiences like their
own to brute animals. But even in men and women suffer
ing depends mainly on the mental state of the sufferer.
Only during consciousness does it exist at all, and only in
the most highly-organized men does it reach its acme.
Savages seem generally to Lave far less sensitiveness to
pain than have cultivated and refined human beings. The

CHAP. XII.] CAUSES. 369

direness of pain consists in the knowledge of it ; in that in
tellectual agony which recollects past moments and anti
cipates the future ones — a condition necessarily existing in
a being capable of " looking before and after." As, again,
our nature is an intellectual one, that nature enters into
all our feelings, and therefore we cannot argue with any
exactness from our feelings to those of brutes, because we
cannot imagine what feelings altogether devoid of intellect
can be. And though, of course, animals feel, they do not
know that they feel, nor reflect upon the sufferings they have
had or will have to endure. And if even the lowest races of
men feel less physical pain than we do, how much less may
be the physical suffering of even the highest brutes than that
of the lowest men ? Tears, cries, writhings, and other signs,
such as are normally in us the expressions of suffering, are
not necessarily such even in ourselves, as in the case of the
lady's finger before referred to.* They may be, and often
are, the mere accompaniments of reflex nervous action, and
may, in brutes, even when accompanying feelings, accompany
feelings widely different from our own.

Who that has seen how a daddy-long-legs returns again
and again to a lighted candle, after first one leg and then
another has been burnt in the flame, can think that the
creature really suffers ? And if this spectacle does not con
sole the compassionate observer, let him reflect that if a wasp,
when enjoying a meal of honey, has its slender waist suddenly
snipped through and its whole abdomen cut away, it does not
allow such a trifle to interrupt for a moment its pleasurable
repast, but it continues to rapidly devour the savoury food,
which escapes as rapidly from its mutilated thorax.

That portion of the present objection to God's goodness
which reposes on the supposed un worthiness of Apparently
certain natural actions and productions is also due phenomena.
in part to inverted anthropomorphism, in part to anthropo
morphism itself.

See ante p. 221.

2 B

370 LESSONS FEOM NATUEE. [CHAP. XII.

If we alone of all animals are endowed with a moral
nature, the due exercise of that nature is, of course, the one
thing for us. But we have already considered how actions
may be materially moral yet formally immoral (as an act of
kindness done for a base end), or materially immoral yet
formally moral (as when, a false conscience having been
formed, an act really wrong is believed by the doer to be a
right act). Creatures that have not a moral nature at all can
of course do nothing either " moral " or " immoral." Thus
ants that make slaves, or insects which lay their eggs in the
bodies of other insects, do nothing wrong. Nor is there any
thing really cruel in the bloodthirstiness of a tiger or really
impure in the apparent lasciviousness of an ape. It follows
therefore that those who believe in the existence of angelic

O

beings may conceive such beings as looking on with perfect
complacency at brutes performing actions which in us would
be the expression of the last degree of vileness, filthiness, or
cruelty, and which naturally cannot be contemplated ly us
without disgust because of their unconscious association by
us with analogous imaginary human actions. Such actions
would be thus complacently contemplated by immaterial in
telligences, because such actions in brutes are not and can
not be either vile, filthy or cruel, seeing the performers are
but sentient automata and the actions themselves blameless
apart from rational will.

Yet, as just said, such actions tend to be regarded by us as
really disgusting or wrong in themselves, because we habitually
and naturally regard them from the human point of view.
It is this which causes a difficulty to exist in some persons'
minds in believing certain productions to be expressly willed
by the First Cause, because such persons unconsciously
attribute to that Cause the human point of view. The
structure of certain parts of some of the apes, both of the old
and the new world, and the forms assumed by certain fungi,
may serve as examples. But the feelings which arise in us,
the sentiments inspired by the aspect of such parts or forms,
are essentially human and human only. In themselves, ob-

CHAP. XII.] CAUSES. 371

jectively, they have doubtless beauty and perfection such as
we elsewhere readily recognise, though such qualities are dis
guised from us by our human prejudices. It is surely quite
conceivable that even to us, as disembodied spirits, such
actions and productions as those referred to may appear
in an altogether different light, and we may, so to speak,
smile at the childishness of the notion that there could be
anything worthy of even the faintest disapproval in that
which has really no moral character whatever, but which
to us as men is revolting or disgusting. Yet our intellect
sees no difficulty in at once believing that, under certain con
ditions, what is disgusting to us may be really most admir
able, e.g., that a filthy mendicant, loathsome with cutaneous
disease and intolerable to smell as much as to sight but
with a will most rightly directed, may really be one of the
noblest and most glorious objects which the whole material
universe presents to its Divine Author, and that angels would
turn away with indifference from what men most admire to
contemplate such a spectacle.

Can there, then, be any real difficulty in accepting the
belief that the whole material Universe, and all the actions
(apart from human volition) performed by it, are really
beautiful, from the superhuman point of view, however much
the one-sidedness of our view of part of it (through the
associations of purely human feeling) may disguise the beauty
of such part from us ?

The fourth objection, that as to the conflict between the
ideas of "evolution" and "creation," has been Fourth o«ec-
specially treated of in the last chapter of the tZ'S^"
'Genesis of Species.' Here I will but reaffirm that uon!"'
the distinction between primary creation and secondary or
derivative creation, entirely does away with the difficulty.
If, with the great St. Augustine, we believe that the whole
material universe was created in one instant, and further
accept the view that all its organisms were then created not
actually but potentially (to be subsequently evolved into
actual existence at due times and seasons when the conditions

2 B 2

372 LESSONS FKOM NATUEE. [CHAP. XII.

originally intended and decreed should arise), it is obvious
that the difficulty disappears. As to original or primary
creation, science can say absolutely nothing against it. That
it is " conceivable " is proved by the fact that it is widely, not
only conceived but believed. That it is "unimaginable"
necessarily follows from its being an action which, by the
hypothesis, is utterly beyond experience.

Mr. Lewes, on this subject, remarks : * " When therefore
it is argued that the creation of Something from Nothing, or
its reduction to Nothing is unthinkable, and is therefore
peremptorily to be rejected, the argument seems to me
defective. The process is thinkable but not imaginable,
conceivable but not provable."

But we have to a certain extent an aid to the thought of
absolute creation in our own free volition, which, as absolutely
originating and determining, may be taken as a type to us of
the creative act. It is a perception of this analogy which led
Gioberti to affirm that the intellect sees, as a necessary truth,
that an absolute Being must be the creator of all secondary
existences, which he expressed in his primary affirmation,
" Ens creat existentias." If the doctrine of creation be once
received, the fact of our free-will acquires new significance.
For Omnipotence to create a being capable of opposing itself
is perhaps one of the most awe-inspiring aspects in which the
First Cause can be contemplated.

The fifth and last objection is that made to the notion of a
Fifth objec- personal G-od as being necessarily Anthropomorphic,
thropomor- anc^ as contradicted by the phenomena of a world
phism. which is evidently not governed by an Anthropo
morphic Deity.

And here, again, I must refer the reader to the last chapter
of my ' Genesis of Species,' where this question is considered.
It may, however, be here remarked that both the difficulties
contained in this fifth objection may be met by the adoption
of that mode of regarding the Almighty which is traditional

' Problems of Life and Mind,' vol. ii. p. 292.

CHAP. XII.] CAUSES. 373

in the Church's teaching. I mean the teaching that though
there is an analogy between the attributes of God and human
qualities (so that, e.g., to call Him " good " is neither false
nor unmeaning), yet that the disparity being infinite no term
whatever, not even that denoting mere existence, can be applied
in the same very sense to God and to any creature. Thus
after exhausting ingenuity in striving to arrive at the loftiest
possible conceptions in order to apply them to God, we must
yet declare them to be utterly inadequate ; that, after all, they
are but accommodations to human infirmity ; that they are
in a sense objectively false (because of their inadequacy),
though subjectively and very practically true. But the
difference is vast between this view and that which would
simply deny to God attributes analogous to human qualities.
That denial is practically atheism; while the assertion
defended here, maintains that our conceptions only err in not
being true enough, i.e., in their impotence to attain the in
comprehensible reality which, nevertheless, really is all that
can be conceived, plus an inconceivable infinity beyond.

That this view is the old and traditional one may be made
manifest by the following quotation : —

" Dens in hac vita non potest a nobis videri per suam essentiam, sed
cognoscitur a nobis ex creaturis secundum habitudinem principis, et
per modum excellentise et remotionis : Sic igitur potest nominuri a nobis
ex creaturis: non tamen ita, quod nomen significans ipsum exprimat
divinam essentiam secundum quod est. Sicut ut hoc nomen exprimit
sua significations essentiam hominis secundum quod est." — St. Thomas,
Summa, Pars I. q. xiii. art. 1.

" Cum hoc nomen sapiens de homine dicitur, quodammodo describit,
et comprehendit rem significatam, non autem, eum dicitur de Deo
relinquit rem significatam, ut incomprehensam, et excedentem nominis
significationem, unde patet, quod non secundum eandem rationem hoc
nomen sapiens de Deo, et de homine dicitur. Et eadem ratio non est
de aliis. Unde nullum nomen univoce de Deo, et creaturis prcedicatur.
Dicendum est igitur, quod cujusmodi nomina dicuntur de Deo, et
creaturis secundum analogiam, id est, proportionem." — St. Thomas, loc.
cit. art. 5.

This conception of the merely analogous resemblance
between terms as applied to God and to creatures thoroughly

374 LESSONS FEOM NATUEE. [CHAr. XII.

agrees with the assertion "that His ways are not as our
ways," and prepares us to expect a priori that the material
world would not exhibit the characters of a piece of human
workmanship. Thus considered, and with these limitations
and explanations, it can hardly be denied that the action
which we discover immanent in the material universe may be
rationally taken to be from God. In that universe we find
an action the results of which harmonise with man's reason,
which is orderly, which disaccords with the action of blind
chance and with the "fortuitous concourse of atoms" of
Democritus ; but at the same time, an action which ever, in
part and in ultimate analysis, eludes our grasp, and the
modes of which are different from those by which we should
have attempted to accomplish such ends. The inconsistency
is surely very great of those who assert that all our know
ledge comes from experience, and at the same time affirm
that " creative action " is incredible because nature affords no
evidence of it. It is so great because that action must
necessarily be unperceived and uncomprehended by us, since
of creative action we have and can have no experience
whatever. The action of God therefore must necessarily
be unimaginable by us in its fulness, but its reality and
efficiency can be very clearly conceived as incessant and
universal in every form of being known to us, and in the
far greater number of entirely unknown forms. God is thus
neither withdrawn from nor identified with His material crea
tion, and no part of it is left devoid of meaning or of purpose.
The poet's plaint as to the flower " born to blush unseen, and
waste its sweetness on the desert air," is thus manifestly quite
uncalled for ; every creature of every order of existence being
ever, while its existence is sustained, so complacently con
templated by God that the intense and concentrated attention
of all men of science together upon it could but form but an
utterly inadequate symbol of such divine contemplation.
Mr. Darwin asks * (in reference to the Duke of Argyll's

* ' Descent of Man,' vol. ii. p. 230.

CHAP. XIL] CAUSES. 375

observation " that variety must be admitted to be an aim in
nature ") the following remarkable question : " I wish the
Duke had explained what he here means by nature. Is it
meant that the Creator of the universe ordained diversified
results for His own satisfaction or for that of man ? The
former seems to me as much wanting in due reverence as the
latter in probability." To this it may be replied that, grant
ing the validity of the deductions of our reason as to the
First Cause, then God, as at once the Sustainer of the universe,
concurs by His action in every natural phenomenon, and has
an infinite complacency in each. But there is a due because
rational order in such complacency ; and since we see clearly
that " goodness " is the highest of all qualities, an important
consequence follows. Let us endeavour to bring home to
ourselves the fact that the existence of a countless multi
tude of actions and interactions is revealed to us in every
department of science. Let us consider the series of such in
the physical, chemical, and biological sciences ; in the rise
and fall of states, and the manifestations of art in all its
branches. Let us contemplate the physical possibilities of
being in the vast fields of stellar space, receding from us on
all sides into unfathomable abysses and for incalculable ages,
and then try to realise the thought that the Divine com
placency in all such phenomena is as nothing compared with
that complacency with which He regards one single act of
man's free-will directed in harmony with a moral perception,
even though it be a mistaken one.

If then the reasoning contained in this chapter is good
and valid, the last and the highest lesson which Concluslon.
nature (considered as a whole, i.e., as both rational
and sentient) teaches us is that the Great First Cause has
attributes of such a nature that the terms " power," " know
ledge," "goodness," "purpose," and "will" are those least
inadequate to convey to our minds a practical conception
and belief concerning them. Of such a Cause the word
" personality," in a similarly analogous sense, can not only
be fitly used, but must be positively affirmed, since not to

376

LESSONS FEOM NATUKE. [CHAP. XII.

affirm is in fact (1) to deiiy to the First Cause the necessary
adequacy for producing the effects we see, and (2) to en
deavour to degrade Him to an order of existence lower even
than that of mere man, since whatever has knowledge and
will has personality. In a word, we learn that we and all
the beings we see around us have for our origin, our sus-
tentation, and our end, one only being — GOD.

( 377 )

CHAPTEE XIII.

CONSEQUENCES.

" The consequences which flow from the acceptance or rejection of
the teaching here advocated are and must be most momentous both
to individuals and the community. Those who reject it are logically
driven into extreme and irrational negation. Its bearing upon conduct
is direct, and must of necessity powerfully affect the future condition
of society through popular education. Such conseqiiences may ra
tionally serve to reinforce conclusions before arrived at on other
grounds."

HAVING learned from Nature the lesson just deduced —
that as to her first and final causes, we may now, yarious COI1.
in the last place, consider certain " consequences " gp^Xtive
—consequences of several kinds. andpracticai.

First, we may consider the consequences resulting from
our acceptance of the teaching of rational nature as to the
intellect and will (resulting, as we have seen, in Theism),
and in connexion therewith, our own immortality : secondly,
the consequences of the rejection of that teaching (in the
form of Atheism and Pantheism), noting the extremes to
which logic drives those who thus reject it : thirdly and
lastly, the necessary consequences of such rejection as
regards conduct, i.e., the practical tendencies which thence
arise.

Glancing retrospectively over the consequences of the
various controversies which have come under our conse-

quences of

observation about (I.) our own existence — the .Lgo ; controversies
(II.) about the Will, and (III.) lastly about God, ^°
we may see that the efforts which have been made to impugn
these truths seem likely to have as their consequences the

378 LESSONS FROM NATURE. [CHAP. XIII.

strengthening and wider diffusion in a more developed form
of those very beliefs which such efforts were designed to
uproot. To make manifest the reinvigorating effect of these
hostile efforts we must briefly traverse again some of the
ground we have gone over.

I. As regards the Ego, the persistence with which our
Asto the knowledge of it has been denied, and the arguments
by which such denial has been supported, serve to
bring out the supreme importance of our recognition of our
own self-consciousness and all that our knowledge of the
Ego implies and contains. Each man who for the first
time has his eyes opened to the marvellous nature of his
present knowledge of his own past existence, will see in the
necessarily postulated " veracity of memory " the evidence
of his possession of real objective truth and of knowledge
other than phenomenal. In recognising his own self-con
sciousness he must also recognise that his mind declares
certain truths (e.g., that what thinks, exists) to be absolutely
and universally true. He must, on introspection, further
see that such truths are not passively apprehended by him,
through his impotence to think the contrary, but are actively
apprehended and seen to be truths positively necessary and
universal, and in this way his mind will again be carried by
its own force from subjectivity to objectivity. The validity
of the declarations of his intellect, and consequently of its
logical processes, being thus rendered unassailable except at
the price of absolute intellectual paralysis, its declarations
as to " causation " and " morality " gain at once a recognised
validity. That phenomenal conditional changes, even if
ranging in cycles through a past eternity, must require a
real, absolute, eternal Cause, will, as we have seen in the last
chapter, be apparent to him, while the absolute declarations
of the intellect in the sphere of morality will necessarily
lead to the attribution to that cause of " a goodness " har
monising with, however immeasurably exceeding, his own.
In other words, the widespread propagation of the absurd
denial of our own self-knowledge is an antecedent condition

CHAP. XIII.] CONSEQUENCES. 379

to a more thorough and complete appreciation of that self-
knowledge and of all that is made known to us thereby, than
any other cause (save such denial) could well be conceived
as producing. The supreme importance of the Delphic
inscription acquires a fresh significance. In knowing " our
selves " we come to know, with a supreme degree of certainty,
a whole sphere of objective truths which the intellect is seen
to have the wonderful faculty of perceiving together with
the very light by which those truths manifest themselves to
it — namely, their objective, necessary, and universal truth.

The facts here referred to may be recapitulated and
summed up, in other words, as follows : —

The consideration of our own continued existence reveals
to us objective truth and our possession of it.

Our self-consciousness also reveals to us that there are
universal, objectively necessary truths (as e.g., " what thinks
exists "), and that we can know them.

Similarly our intellect shows us the validity of our own
reason and the objective validity of the syllogism which
renders implicit truth explicit to us.

Hence we learn the validity of our inference as to the
existence of a First Cause of the universe known to us,
and of a possible indefinitely vast universe beyond our
knowledge.

From this Cause, which our reason tells us must be greater
and higher than we can conceive, we rationally infer " order."
Therefore there must be a purpose in all that such Cause
produces, since "order" and "purpose" exist in human
actions and are recognised by the human intellect, which is
one amongst the effects of such First Cause.

Such are the consequences which spring from the denial
of and consequent controversy about our knowledge of our
own continued existence.

II. With respect to " Will," the passionate obstinacy with
which the declarations of the common sense of Astothe
mankind are contested and every fragment of free
self-determining power denied, serves to bring out more

380 LESSONS FEOM NATURE. [CHAP. XIII.

emphatically than before the marvellous and isolated character
of that power of choice which all unprejudiced men know
that they possess. When it comes to be fully appreciated,
amongst the many, how rigid law rules not only all living as
well as inanimate irrational creatures, but how even the
immense majority of our own actions are simply automatic,
the wonderful character of our power of (in certain cases)
voluntarily choosing the less attractive of two competing
objects will be less inadequately estimated. Moreover, the
recognition in our own being of this power, beyond anything
else in nature, renders supernatural action external to us not
only credible but to be anticipated a priori. Creative action
and absolute annihilation, miracle, response to prayer, and
the apportionment in another world of rewards and chastise
ments according to the exercise in this of meritorious voli
tions, or of the reverse, harmonise thoroughly with that
philosophy which asserts the freedom of the will. That they
do so harmonise, the very objections of our modern Deter-
minists serve to demonstrate ; and it is daily becoming more
apparent that to deny these is by implication to deny the
existence of virtue, to uproot every possible basis of morality,
and even, as we shall see, to eliminate from the social
organism those legal sanctions, and even those modes of
speech, the reasonableness of which depends upon the real
existence of " rights " and " duties " as ordinarily understood.
The bitter hostility which exists to the doctrine of man's free
will is not difficult to understand. It is impossible to assert
it without implicitly asserting religion ; and it is, in one aspect
at least, a trial to pride. It is indeed no small trial to the
pride of a highly-cultured man of powerful intellect to feel
that the poorest peasant is fully as capable as himself of
performing the highest actions — those which are the special
prerogative of man — namely, the exercise of rational meri
torious volition and choice. If there is such a thing as
morality, it is beyond comparison as to value with mere
intellectual culture or capacity, and it necessarily follows
that a poor paralysed old woman sitting in a chimney-corner

CHAP. XIII.] CONSEQUENCES. 381

may, by her good aspirations and volitions, be repeatedly
performing mental acts compared with \vhich the discovery
by Newton of the law of gravitation is as nothing.

Again, in free-will and morality, we have that which
cannot be the result of mere brute inheritance. Conceptions
of time and space may be plausibly represented as structural
results of a practically infinite brute ancestry which has
been submitted to conditions of time and space, but at any
rate such ancestry was never submitted to conditions of
moral responsibility. Thus the recognition of the human
will renders absurd the conception that man can have
developed from a brute.

III. We come now to the last and supremely important of
the many consequences resulting from recent contro
versies — we mean the vividness with which they force
on the many a recognition of the awful, the unapproachable
majesty of God under the foolish term of " the Unknowable."
Of course there is nothing said upon this subject by Mr.
Spencer, or any other writer, which has not been said scores
of times by mediaeval and other theologians. It is somewhat
amusing to read Mr. Spencer's objection to the term "per
sonality," as applied to God, because " inadequate and Mow,
rather than above, the unspeakable reality " — as if every tyro
in theology did not know, as has been shown, that the
common teaching of the Church is that not even " being "
can be predicated univocally of God and of any creature, and
as if the term liyperliypostasis was not a familiar one to
denote the absolute personality as distinguished from every
dependent one. Yet it is none the less true that grossly
inadequate and absurdly anthropomorphic conceptions of
God are widely spread, and that the incautious and inac
curate language of popular pious writers is likely to spread
further and deeper such grossness and absurdity. Of course,
after all, the difference between our highest attainable con
ception of God and that of the rudest boor is as nothino-
compared with the difference between that highest concep
tion and the Divine reality. Nevertheless, quoad nos, it is a

382 LESSONS FROM NATURE. [CHAP. XIII.

great gain to have a somewhat higher notion more widely
spread, and the general dissemination of controversy respect
ing " the Unknowable " cannot fail to spread wider, concep
tions of a higher character. Not but that " the Unknowable,"
as represented by Mr. Spencer, devoid of personality, is, in
reality, lower instead of higher than the popular conception
of God ; but at the same time, while those who are indis
posed to Theism may thus be confirmed in their negations,
those who are Theists cannot but have their Theism improved
and their conceptions raised by a careful and detailed con
sideration of the hopeless inadequacy of all symbols to convey
to us a knowledge of our Creator as He is.

Another consequence that follows from the foregoing con-
Theimmor- sideration is that the doctrine of the continued
souif ° existence of the soul after death is true. If the
universe is governed by a just God who is also all-wise
and all-powerful, it follows that each man must meet with
reward or chastisement according to his deserts. But that
such is not the case in this life it needs but a small
knowledge of history, or indeed experience of the world,
in order to perceive. There are, it is true, some writers
(mostly possessed of a good share of this world's advan
tages) who, owing to the exigencies of their philosophical
position, venture to assert that each man during this life
receives minute and exact retribution for every act, word,
and thought. Such a doctrine, however, is a mere gra
tuitous and, indeed, superstitious dogma, utterly incapable
of proof, opposed to the almost universally expressed con
viction of mankind, and opposed also to the moral conscious
ness of many as to the events of their own lives. Our
perception of what is just demands then for us, as moral
beings, an existence after death. But does physical science,
especially physiology, negative this belief? If so, in the
presence of conflicting truths we are reduced to scepticism.
But in fact no refinement of modern science affects it one
jot or tittle more than does the fact known to every savage,
" that when the brains were out the man would die." We

CHAP. XIII.] CONSEQUENCES. 383

have, however, seen in preceding chapters that Reason
gives us cause to believe that structure and function are
different aspects of one whole ; that the force of any acting
body (a steam-engine, an electrifying machine, a stinging-
nettle, or a gorilla) is not something really distinct from the
material thing and inhering in it, but is the thing itself
acting — the dynamical aspect of the one cohering, living or
sentient whole. Deeply considered, the difference between
modern phraseology and that of an older school of Two phra8e.
philosophy may be said to be, that while for both ologies'
schools matter and form (or force) are two sides of one whole,
the modern school seems to consider the material side as the
more important, and as determining the dynamical and
formal side ; while the older school regarded the dynamical
and formal side as determining the material side. In this
the older school seems to me to have the advantage, for how
can the essentially statical part dominate and determine the
essentially dynamical part ? Even Mr. Lewes would regard
the material side as the statical side or aspect of the whole
unity ! It may be replied that actions performed on living
bodies abundantly demonstrate that the state of the material
part determines the dynamical part. But, in the first place,
it is impossible to act on the mere material of a living body,
since everywhere you find both matter and form ; and,
secondly, it is not only the matter, but the dynamical action
of other bodies which operate upon the living body supposed,
and no one denies the mutual action of the dynamic powers
of bodies.

This, however, is but a remark made by the way, seeing
that whichever be the dominant side or aspect it is con
ceded that in brutes the two arise, vary, and disappear
simultaneously. Why then is it not absolutely necessary
that the single force, form, or soul of man (which is with the
body one unity as is the soul of a brute with its body) should
similarly be annihilated with the structural change of death ?
The answer to this question has been prepared in the seventh
chapter, wherein it was sought to make plain how vast is the

384 LESSONS FROM NATURE. [Ciur. XIII.

difference between the single, rational activity, force, or form
which acts in each living man — his soul — from the activity,
force, or soul which shows itself in every living beast. The
vastness of this difference becomes evident when we reflect
on the fact that the human soul, as we experience it, here
and now, is, in a sense, out of both time and space ; that it
exists now in the past or in the future as well as in the
present ; that it can think of both before time was, and
after time shall end in eternity ; that it can discuss the
question as to the infinity or finitude of space, and consider
the world of possibility as well as that of actuality ; that
though existing amidst a constant succession of changing
conditions, it can think the eternal, unchanging absolute ;
that it knows itself as looking before and after, and as that
which thinks and yet endures; that its self-conscious exist
ence really persists in these conditions for years, i.e., that
it is a spiritual substance ; above all, that it can appreciate
moral worth and elect to follow the less attractive of two
competing motives, and so dominate and control the chain of
physical causation by its free-will. All these considerations
show that its nature is far more widely removed from the
activity of an ape than is that of an ape from the activity of
a magnet. And as the soul or activity of an ape differs in
kind from the activity of a magnet, so the activity or soul of
a man differs yet more in kind from that of an ape. It is by
no means inconceivable therefore that the formal or dy
namical element in the rational man may persist in another
form after the dissolution of the body in a condition which
we cannot of course imagine ; indeed, as a spiritual substance,
the inference is that it does so persist. Not only feeling,
however, but memory, will, and even knowledge must of
course cease to exist as we experience them, and herein
lies the truth hidden in the assertions of those who deny the
immortality of the soul. But because they will cease as we
experience them, there is no need to think they do not persist
in any form at all, especially if upon other grounds there is
reason to think they do persist ; and such reasons we have

CHAP. XIII.] CONSEQUENCES. 385

found in the demands of justice, in the power the soul pos
sesses of transcending even here and now the limits of time,
space, and physical causation, and in the perdurability of
mind.

We may now pass to the second set of consequences which
it is proposed to consider here, namely, those which c^.
follow the rejection of the positive beliefs which $eTng0f
nature, through reason, it is here maintained, Theism'
assures us are true with respect to the first and final causes.

If these beliefs be rejected, then either the mind must
endeavour to sustain itself in the unstable equilibrium of a
scepticism constantly tending to the stable conditions of
affirmation or negation, and which position is practically
already negative; or it must accept the negative position,
whether in its Atheistic or its Pantheistic forms. As Mr.
Spencer says (' Psychology,' vol. i. p. 466) : " The neutral state
of having no hypothesis, can be completely preserved only so
long as the conflicting evidences appear exactly balanced :
such a state is one of unstable equilibrium, which can hardly
be permanent." Accordingly, the creeds commonly propa
gated (rather through insinuations, implications, and sug
gestions, than through direct and unequivocal assertions)
by public opponents of the religious conceptions generally
received amongst us to-day are of a more or less distinctly
negative character.

However much we may regret the necessity, it is never
theless simply impossible to note the existing phenomena of
public opinion with truth and justice without making refer
ences of the kind which follow. For it is a fact that the
Theistic conception (the belief in a personal God) is that
which is now (sometimes openly, but more generally by im
plication) the main object of attack by means of a Mate
rialistic or Pantheistic Propaganda, of which physical-science
teaching is made the vehicle.

However dissonant in detail may be the opinions professed
or the amount of reticence practised by the several indi
vidual teachers, a concordant harmony results from the

2 c

386 LESSONS FEOM NATUEE. [CHAP. XIII.

general character of their utterances. With a loud profession
of man's necessary ignorance is joined a confident assertion as
to the course which would be pursued by a being of infinite
power, wisdom, and goodness, did such a being exist, with an
implicit or explicit denial of such existence.

Let us then note certain utterances of popular teachers of
high standing which appear to have met with a very wide
acceptance.

Professor Tyndall, in his treatise on ' The Constitution of
Professor Nature ' (reprinted in his collected essays), to the

Tyndall's V £_T _ .

teaching. question, " Was space furnished at once, by the
fiat of Omnipotence, with these burning orbs ?" replies : —

" To this question the man of science, if he confine himself within
his own limits, will give no answer, though it must be remarked, that
in the formation of an opinion he has better materials to guide him than
anybody else." — Fragments of Science, p. 6.

In his address to the students of University College, he
tells them that the poet of the future

" ought to be the interpreter of that power which, as ' Jehovah,
Jove, or Lord/ has hitherto filled and strengthened the human heart."—

ibid. p.m.

Again, in his paper on ' Vitality ' he remarks :—

"The most advanced philosophers of the present day declare that
they ultimately arrive at a single source of power, from which all vital
energy is derived ; and tlte disquieting circumstance is that this source is
not the direct fiat of a supernatural agent, but a reservoir of what, if we
do not accept the creed of Zoroaster, must be regarded as inorganic
force."— Ibid. p. 436.

Moreover, all this dogmatism is unaccompanied by one
word of explanation as to the absence of any real necessary
conflict between the action of evolution itself and the con
ception of its results being absolutely and primarily due to
the " fiat of a supernatural agent."

Once more, in his little work on the ' Use and Limit of
the Imagination in Science,' he expresses himself thus : —

" Whence come we ; whither go we ? The question dies without an
answer — without even an echo — upon the infinite shores of the Unknown.

CHAP. XIII.] CONSEQUENCES. 387

Let us follow matter to its utmost bounds ; let us claim it in all its
forms to experiment with and to speculate upon. Casting the term
' vital force ' from our vocabulary, let us reduce, if we can, the visible
phenomena of life to mechanical attractions and repulsions. Having
thus exhausted physics, and reached its very rim, the real mystery
still looms beyond us. We have, in fact, made no step towards its
solution. And thus it will ever loom— even beyond the bourne of
knowledge— compelling the philosophies of successive ages to confess
that

" ' We are such stuff

As dreams are made of, and our little life

Is rounded with a sleep.' "

Finally, the Professor says of the theory of evolution: —

" Many who hold it would probably assent to the position that at the
present moment all our philosophy, all our poetry, all our science, and
all our art— Plato, Shakspeare, Newton, and Eaphael— are potential in
the fires of the Sun. We long to learn something of our origin. If
the Evolution hypothesis be correct, even this unsatisfied yearning
must have come to us across the ages which separate the unconscious
primeval mist from the consciousness. of to-day." — Ibid. p. 163.

No one can have more esteem for Professor Tyndall when
teaching us concerning those coexistences and sequences of
phenomena which his genius, energy, and perseverance have
detected, than has the present writer. But Professor Tyn
dall, as a metaphysician, must be understood to court cri
ticism by the authoritative and didactic tone which he has
adopted in a field of battle he has gone out of his own
special line to seek. It may then well be asked, what is
the creed, what are the lessons likely to be learned by youno-
or inquiring minds from this scientific catechism? What
will be gathered from such passages as those referred to
(which are not elsewhere retracted or explained away by
their author), from that which they inevitably imply, as well
as from that which they actually express? For while re
ligious belief retains its social power in any country, those
who attack it will generally, more or less, veil their hostility,
and seek by implication, insinuation, or studied silence, to
produce an effect far exceeding that openly aimed at by their
express words. As far as I understand Professor Tyndall,

2 c 2

388 LESSONS FEOM NATUEE. [CHAP. XIII.

and I ain anxious to state his views with the utmost fairness,
the following are the conclusions at which he arrives ; —

I. It is professors of physical science who in the future
are to be the supreme Pontiffs, better qualified " than any
body else " to judge the highest questions of philosophy and
religion, though the actual interpreters of "the unknowable
are to be the poets.

II. It is doubtful whether the duly instructed can longer
have their " hearts strengthened " by the conception of the
First Cause as " Jehovah," or even as " Lord."

III. The Patres Conscripti, or rather the Pontifices
Maxitni, have dogmatically defined and decreed, that there
is one " single source of power from which all vital energy
is derived " — an "inorganic force."

IV. The inquiry as to the origin and the end of human life
is fruitless, and, therefore, the effort to discover our proper
aim is an endeavour to solve what is hopelessly insoluble.

Y. Nevertheless we do come from a fire, such as that of
the sun ; and love, charity which " thinketh no evil," hu
mility, piety, and holiness are essentially derived from the
heat, and are merely different " modes of motion."

Let us now turn to the teaching of " our great philoso-
, pher," as Mr. Darwin styles him. Mr. Herbert

Mr. opencer s r * 'in

teaching. Spencer, in his ' First Principles, distinctly tells us,
that Theism is not only incredible but inconceivable (p. 43),
and that " every form of religion " is not " even thinkable "

(p. 46). In the place of God we are presented with "the

unknowable !" To the very natural objection that thus an
emotionless and " unthinkable abstraction " (p. 114) is offered
to us, " instead of a power which we can regard as having
some sympathy with us," we are quietly and coolly told,
"this kind of protest of necessity accompanies every change
from a lower creed to a higher;" "No mental revolution
can be accomplished without more or less of laceration."
The same writer, in an article in the ' Fortnightly Keview,'*

* For April 1871.

CHAP. XIII.] CONSEQUENCES. 389

makes clear his belief that our highest aspirations after holi
ness, and love of eternal goodness and beauty, are nothing
but modified brutal instincts of the lowest kind, developed
by experience and utility. Altogether, the teaching of this
philosopher, comprises the following dogmas : —

I. Theism is faLe and absurd.

II. Rewards and punishments in a future life are the
delusions of superstition.

III. Prayer is an absurdity, as there is no God having any
personal sympathy with us.

IV. There is no difference of kind, but only of degree,
between the intellect of a sage or the emotions of a saint,
and the psychical faculties of a mud-fish.

V. There is no such thing as free-will. No man having
any more real option as to his thoughts and intentions than
has a leaf to resist the action of the wind.

If Mr. Spencer is more or less extensively esteemed as a
teacher, a far wider acceptance is enjoyed by the Professor
eminent naturalist Professor Huxley, who has of te^Mifg8
late wandered beyond his special subjects of exposition, into
the wider fields of ethies, politics, and metaphysics. It is
difficult to exaggerate the importance of a teaching, followed
and accepted with so much avidity by a large section of the
middle and lower classes, and it will be well to consider
carefully the dicta put forth by so popular an authority —
an authority, moreover, by no means relying upon the power
of persuasion or the force of truth, but ready, as soon as
practicable, to call in the aid of the " secular arm " to give
effect to the anathemas of a " scientific syllabus."

In Professor Huxley's ' Lay Sermons,' the following pas-

occur : —

" I say that natural knowledge, seeking to satisfy natural wants, has
found the ideas which can alone still spiritual cravings." — p. 14.

The Gospel enunciated by this Evangelist, is, after all,
anything but " good tidings." The Professor tells us :—
" In this sadness, this consciousness of the limitation of man,
this sense of an open secret which he cannot penetrate, lies

390 LESSONS FEOM NATUKE. [CHAP. XIII

the essence of all religion " (p. 15). The familiar phrase
" serious views," is very inadequate to express the deep
depression of the creed proposed to us in place of that which
tells us, " Rejoice always, and again I say unto you rejoice."
Mr. Spencer's expression for first cause is fully accepted, as
we are told, as to the Unknowable that we " Jcnoiv (!), to
our cost, that he never overlooks a mistake, or makes the
smallest allowance for ignorance " (p. 36). Again we read : —

" Were mankind deserving of the title ' rational,' which they arrogate
to themselves, there can be no question that they would consider, as the
most necessary of all branches of instruction for themselves and for their
children, that which professes to acquaint them with the conditions of
the existence they prize so highly — which teaches them how to avoid
disease, and to cherish health in themselves, and those who are dear
to them." — p. 98. "It becomes clear that all living powers are cog
nate, and that all living forms are fundamentally of one character." —
p. 142.

" Even those manifestations of intellect, of feeling, and of will, which
we rightly name the higher faculties, are .... to every one but the
subject of them, known only as transitory changes in the relative
positions of parts of the body." — p. 135.

In the first place we should be glad to know, on what
principle Professor Huxley considers one human mental
manifestation " higher " thaii another ; but letting this pass,
surely "known ~by means of changes of position" would be
the more correct form of expression. Yet sometimes the
Professor does not scruple to go beyond the facts of phe
nomena into the regions of abstractions and occult causes as
freely as his neighbours. Thus he tells us : — " We do not
hesitate to believe that, in some way or another," the proper
ties of water " result from the properties of the component
elements of water" (p. 150). It is difficult to understand
this bold assertion on Professor Huxley's own principles. At
other times he does not scruple to ignore, and practically
deny, what is evident to the reason, though hidden from the
sense, as when he tells us that : —

" A nucleated mass of protoplasm turns out to be what may be
termed the structural unit of the human body. As a matter of fact,
the body, in its earliest state, is a mere multiple of such units ; and, in

CHAP. XIII.] CONSEQUENCES. 391

its present condition, it is a multiple of such units, variously modified."
—p. 140.

Yet who can doubt that in the living body there is a latent,
active principle wanting in the recent corpse, though com
posed of the same identical masses of nucleated protoplasm ?

The Professor has of late become the expositor of the
idealist philosophy, according to which mental phenomena
are to each individual most unquestionably the primary
objects of knowledge, and yet he tells us "it is obvious
that our knowledge of what we call the material world, is.
to begin with, at least as certain and definite as that of the
spiritual world " (p. 155). And more recently * he has said,
as to "psychoses" and "neuroses," " The right view is that
they are connected together in the relation of cause and
effect, psychoses being secondary, and following on neuroses !"

We next meet with the following passage : —

" If a man asks me what the politics of the inhabitants of the moon
are, and I reply that I do not know ; that neither I, nor any one else,
have any means of knowing ; and that, under these circumstances, I
decline to trouble myself about the subject at all ... in replying thus,
I conceive that I am simply honest and truthful, and show a proper
regard for the economy of time. So Hume's strong and subtle intellect
takes up a great many problems about which we are naturally curious,
arid shows us that they are essentially questions of lunar politics, in
their essence incapable of being answered, and therefore not worth the
attention of men who have work to do in the world." — p. 158.

He then quotes Hume saying : —

" If we take in hand any volume of divinity, or school metaphysics,
for instance, let us ask, Does it contain any abstract reasoning concerning
quantity or number ? No. Does it contain any experimental reasoning
concerning matter of fact and existence? No. Commit it then to the
flames, for it can contain nothing but sophistry and illusion." — p. 159.

Professor Huxley adds : —

" Permit me to enforce this most wise advice. Why trouble ourselves
about matters of which, however important they may be, we do know
nothing, and can know nothing ? " — p. 159.

* In his last lecture at the Finsbury Institution, given in the winter of
1872.

392 LESSONS FKOM NATUKE. [CHAP. XIII.

This amounts to a deliberate advice and injunction to his
hearers to cast aside every thought or care respecting God,
their own souls or a future existence. It is noteworthy that
this dogmatic statement, this certainty as to what is possible
to our faculties, is put forth by one who also tells us that
even "of the existence of self" we have not, nor "can we
by any possibility have," the highest degree of certainty
(p. 359).

Finally, in his address to the members of the Midland
Institute he remarks : —

" I take it that the good of mankind means the attainment, by every
man, of all the happiness which he can enjoy, without diminishing the
happiness of his fellow-men."

And,

" If we inquire what kinds of happiness come under this definition,
we find those derived from the sense of security or peace ; from wealth,
or commodity, obtained by commerce ; from art ; from knowledge, or
science ; and, finally, from sympathy or friendship."

And here we must remark, in spite of his contact with
many working men, how utter must be the Professor's lack
of acquaintance with the real life of the poor, thus com
pletely to exclude from the catalogue of human happiness
all considerations of religion, its hopes, its stimulus, its
consolations. Had he but practised that profession which
counts him amongst its members, he could hardly have failed
to encounter amongst the sick and suffering some poor souls
whose one stay and consolation, amidst a crushing accumula
tion of earthly woe, has been a trustful belief in a heavenly
Father's love, and the prospect of a supernatural union with
Him in the life beyond the grave.

As before, we may lay down the following propositions as
the summary of Professor Huxley's moral and religious
teaching : —

I. Physical science is the one only fountain at which
spiritual thirst can be quenched.

II. Sadness is of the essence of religion.

CHAP. XIII.] CONSEQUENCES. 393

III. The First Cause is inexorable and pitiless.

IV. It looks with favour on the learned Dives, not on the
poor and ignorant Lazarus.

Y. Physical welfare and happiness are the summum
lonum.

VI. Security, wealth, culture, and sympathy are the only
rational objects of pursuit.

VII. All aspirations or efforts after Divine things the

love of God or beatitude in a future life— are simple waste of
time, if not worse, and are fit only for lunatics.

VIII. Knowledge of all such subjects is impossible to us.
If we were to pursue the inquiry from the pontiffs down

to the acolyths and ostiarii of the non-theistic other deda.
hierarchy, far more exaggerated expressions could rations-
easily be produced, tending to drive further home the prin
ciples insinuated by their leaders. Thus Mr. Barratt, in his
'Physical Ethics,' tells us nakedly that " no pleasure is bad,
except when it means pain," and that " the good is plea
sure." Mr. Winwood Eeade, a friend and ardent disciple
of Mr. Darwin, very pithily states the ultimate conclusions
of his recent work, which deals with so wide a field, and is
entitled the < Martyrdom of Man.' He therein tells us:
" God-worship is idolatry ; prayer is useless ; the soul is not
immortal; there are no rewards, and there are no punish
ments in a future state." Of course Mr. Keade fully adopts
Mr. Darwin's views as to the bestiality of man ; and indeed
almost, though quite involuntarily, caricatures the teaching
of his master regarding our ape-origin.

Such crude views, " le rationalisme grassier" and its gro
tesque pretensions to intellectual eminence, have been thus
characterised by Mr. James Stirling :*

" ' There was a time/ says Hegel, ' when a man who did not believe
in ghosts or the devil was named a philosopher !' But an ' advanced
thinker/ to these distinctions negative of the unseen, adds— what is
positive of the seen— an enlightened pride in his father the monkey !

* See ' Fortnightly Review,' for November 1871, p. 539.

394 LESSONS FROM NATURE. [CHAP. XIII.

He may enjoy, perhaps, a well-informed satisfaction in contemplating
mere material phenomena that vary with conditions, as the all of this
universe, or he may even experience an elevation into the moral sub
lime when he points to his future in the rock, in the form of those
bones and other remains of a Pithe.cus intelliyens, which, in all proba
bility (he reflects), no subsequent intelligence will ever handle— but
monkey is the pass-word ! Sink your pedigree as man, and adopt for
family tree a procession of the skeletons of monkeys— then superior
enlightenment radiates from your very person, and your place is fixed

a place of honour in the acclamant brotherhood that names itself

' advanced ' ! So it is in England at present ; this is the acknowledged
pinnacle of English thought and English science now. Just point in
these days to the picture of some huge baboon, and suddenly — before
such enlightenment— superstition is disarmed, priests confess their
imposture, and the Church sinks— beneath the hippocampus of a
gorilla." — The Secret of Hegel, Preface, p. xxxi.

These words express truly enough a state of opinion still
but too widely prevalent in England. We need not be
without hope, however, that ere long a more general dif
fusion of a truer philosophy will cause the essential differ
ence between the psychical natures of man and of brutes
to be more clearly apprehended. Then a belief in the
bestiality of man will very soon pass away into the limbo
of discarded physical superstitions.

It would indeed be well if some of those who so reck
lessly advocate popular teaching, such as that we have called
attention to, would ponder over the utterances of continental
infidels, in order that they might see the logical outcome
of those same popular teachings ; for it is continental writers
who most fearlessly develop their principles to their full
results.

Guillaume Marr, a journalist of Lausanne, in a general
report addressed to the Conseil d'Etat some years ago, dared
to assert as follows : —

" Faith in a personal and living God is the origin and the funda
mental cause of our miserable social condition The true road to

liberty, to equality, and to happiness, is atheism. No safety on earth,
so long as man holds on by a thread to Heaven. Let nothing hence
forward shackle the spontaneity of the human kind. Let us teach
man that there is no other God than himself; that he is the Alpha

CHAP. XIII.] CONSEQUENCES. 395

and the Omega of all things, the superior being, and the most real
reality."

Again, Caro observes : —

" Science conducts God with honour to its frontiers, thanking him
for his provisional services." — L'Idee de Dieu, p. 47.

Feuerbach tells us plainly :—

" Les antichretiens, les athees, les human istes (qui ne reconnaissent
d'autre Dieu que 1'humanite) aujourd'hui sont bien maltraites ; mais
ayons bon courage ; 1'atheisme humanitaire n'est plus dans les cama
rillas des grands seigneurs riches et faineants, comrue au xviiie siecle, il
est descendu dans le cceur des travailleurs qui sont pauvres, des tra
vailleurs d'esprit comme des travailleurs de bras; il aura sous peu le
gouvermment du globe."— Qu'est-ce que la Religion ? p. 586.

Another writer of the same school remarks : —

" Les feuilletonistes frangais qui pretendent attaquer les moines, ne
voient pas qu'ils font cause commune avec eux, puisqu'ils admettent,
comme eux, 1'article fondamental, la notion de conscience morale et la dis
tinction du bien et du mal. Le plus celebre d'entre eux n'est lui-meme
qu'un poete jesuitique. Les seuls opposant veritable a 1'imposture
religieuse, c'est nous et nos doctrines purement et radicalement nega
tives." — GRATKY, Uhe Etude sur la Sophist ique contemporaine, p. 153.

Returning to our English physical expositors before quoted,
we may now sum up the teaching in which they General re
appear to concur, or at least the teaching which is sult'
the ultimate and logical outcome of their expositions — the
dogmas which can hardly fail to impress themselves upon
the minds of their disciples who follow them with so simple
and unhesitating a trust. They may be drawn up as
follows : —

I. Temporal happiness is the one rational aim of life.

II. A positive belief in God and a future life is an un
warrantable superstition.

III. Virtue and pleasure are synonymous, for in root and
origin they are identical.

IV. Men are essentially but brutes, no differences of kind
dividing them.

39(5 LESSONS FKOM NATUEE. [CHAP. XIII.

V. The cause of all things has not personality, and con
sequently neither feeling, nor intelligence, nor will.

VI. All who pretend to teach religion are impostors or dupes.

VII. Our physical-science teachers are the supreme expo
nents of all truth, and the ultimate arbiters of all actions.

VIII. There is no such thing as real merit or demerit, as
all our actions are absolutely determined for us, and free-will
is the most baseless of delusions.

It is possible that one or other of the writers here noticed
may object to what has been said on the ground that their
words may be understood in some other sense, and that some
other passages of their writings may be taken as having
another meaning. But if it be conceded only that it is pos
sible that God exists, then in the presence of such possibility
men are bound not so to write as to be readily understood as
opposing theism, while contenting themselves with having
somewhere emitted a sentence of less equivocal tendency. As
well might men leave bottles of strychnine and prussic acid
about in an infant school and excuse themselves because they
had labelled each bottle with the word " poison," in Greek.
If God exists at all, He is manifestly not to be patronised
by a few obscure, ambiguous phrases which writers may con
descend to accord Him; and such writers, if they really
believe in Him, are bound to declare their conviction with no
uncertain sound.

The doctrines just passed in review acquire an additional
importance from another characteristic of the anti-religious
school, which is rapidly becoming more manifest — prudential
disguise being discarded, as no longer necessary.

A short time ago it might have been contended that these
0 sPeculations, however calculated to damage indi-
viduals, were not of immediate political importance.

The unsuspecting might have contended that these physical
dogmatists were all "liberals," and that therefore no hin
drance to free inquiry, or the untrammelled propagation of
truth, need ever be apprehended at their hands, and that with
a fair field and no favour truth must prevail.

CHAP. XIII.] CONSEQUENCES. 397

Indeed, Mr. Herbert Spencer* speaks of " That spirit of
toleration which is so marked a characteristic of modern
times, and is daily growing more conspicuous," and says : —

" Our toleration should be the widest possible ; or rather, we should
aim at something beyond toleration, as commonly understood. In
dealing with alien beliefs our endeavour must be, not simply to refrain
from injustice of word or deed, but also to do justice by an open recog
nition of positive worth. We must qualify our disagreement with as
much as may be of sympathy." — Ibid. p. 122.

These are sentiments which, were they universal, would
make such considerations as we are attempting to bring
forward in this article less imperative. It is greatly to be
feared, however, that this benevolent prediction as to the
increase of toleration has as little foundation in truth as had
the philanthropic anticipations that war was at an end when
the first International Exhibition of 1851 was opened. The
acts of the Commune do not certainly breathe a very tolerant
spirit, to say nothing of " sympathy with opposite opinions ;"
and sentiments kindred to those of the French Communists
are now being sown broadcast not only over the continent
of Europe, but even in our own country also. Apart, however,
from political convulsions and popular passions, the writings
of recent or existing physical teachers contain enough to warn
the Christian world to prepare in time for the advent of an
atheistic persecution. Thus Conite,- in his 'Philosophie
Positive,' gives utterance to principles of persecution suffi
ciently unmistakable. He tells us : —

" II n'y a point de liberte de conscience en astronomic, en physique,
en chimie, en pliysiologie rneme, en ce sens que chacun trouverait
absurde de ne pas croire de confiance aux principes etablis dans les
sciences par les hommes competents."

Professor Huxley, who quotes these words, speaks of the
organised spiritual power which, according to Comte, was to
have supreme control over education in each nation, as most

' First Principles,' p. 120.

LESSONS FROM NATURE. [CHAP. XIII.

" completely sacerdotal " and " entirely anti-scientific," and
adds* that " the logical, practical result of this part of his
doctrine would be the establishment of something corre
sponding with that eminently Catholic, but admittedly anti-
scientific, institution — the Holy Office." (' Lay Sermons,'
p. 190.)

Another utterance comes from France with a warning in
the same direction, and from one whose orthodoxy cannot be
suspected of having sharpened his apprehensions as to the
future. M. Ernest Kenan f speculates as to whether " 1'avenir
ne ramenera pas quelque chose d'analogue a la discipline
ecclesiastique que le liberalisme moderne a si jalousement
supprimee."

The Duke of Argyll,} commenting on Mr. Lewes's dictum
that " whatever is inaccessible to reason should be strictly in
terdicted by reason," observes : " Here we have the true ring
of the old sacerdotal interdicts. Who is to define beforehand
what is, or what is not, ' inaccessible to reason ' ?"

The same intolerance of freedom, even in the region of
pure speculation, is shown by a writer in the ' Westminster
Eevievv ' (for October 1873, p. 398), who, speaking of the
modern man of science, tells us : " Above all things he is
silent in the presence of truths (or falsehoods) which he has
ascertained to be beyond HIS reach. And he COMMANDS
equally in respect to these silence on all others of mankind"
These Agnostics, in their hostility to those whose vision is
less limited, recall the complaint of Beranger's Owl as to
the enmity he innocently excited : " Parceque fy vois clair
la nuit"

But the most portentous phenomenon of this kind is the
open avowal of intolerance, and the direct advocacy of per-

* Professor Huxley adds the singular remark that " the great teaching of
science — the great use of it as an instrument of mental discipline — is its con
stant inculcation of the maxim, that the sole ground on which any statement has
a right to be believed is the impossibility of refuting it .'" According to this,
we have ground for believing that a green dragon inhabits the sun, since such
a proposition it is quite impossible to refute.

f ' S. Paul,' p. 392.

t ' Primeval Man,' pp. 21-23.

CHAP. XIII.] CONSEQUENCES. 399

secution of religious opinions by no less a " liberal " than
Professor Huxley, whose reprobation of the very same views
as expressed by Comte we have just quoted. Indeed, he has
repudiated that reprobation and distinctly contradicted his
previously expressed views, in his address to the Midland
Institute, wherein he has quoted both Comte and Plato
approvingly, and speaks with scorn of that "pet doctrine of
modern liberalism," that " toleration " is " a good thing in
itself, and ought to be reckoned among the cardinal virtues."*
He has added the remarkable words : " I do not see how any
limit whatever can be laid clown as to the extent to which,
under some circumstances, the action of government may be
rightfully carried ; " and has asked the question : " Are we
not bound to admit, with Locke, that it [i.e. the State] may
have right to interfere with ' popery and atheism,' if it be
really true that the practical consequences of such beliefs
can be proved to be injurious to civil society?" f

A deprecation of any opposition to this intolerance on the
ground that the suppression of only that which is " demon-
strably " injurious is thereby justified cannot be admitted. It
cannot be admitted, because the mere fact of theological

7 O

opinions being opposed to the Professor's own may be quite
enough to render them, in his eyes, " demonstrably inju
rious," and thus justify their forcible repression. In principle
this carries equally with it the right of the State to persecute
Theists.

We have seen that, according to the teaching Professor
Huxley favours, all religious speculation and action is but
waste of thought and effort. It cannot be for the advantage
of the State that time and endeavour should be thrown away
in a manner worthy only of lunatics ; consequently all who
would promote such loss should be discouraged and put down.
" The logical, practical result " (to quote Professor Huxley's
words respecting Auguste Comte) "of this part of the doctrine
would be " what he invidiously calls, " the establishment of

* See ' Fortnightly Review,' for November 1871, p. 532.
f Ibid. p. 538.

400 LESSONS FEOM NATURE. [CHAP. XIII.

something corresponding with the Holy Office " — in fact, a
Star-chamber of physically scientific inquisitors sitting in
judgment on, and condemning, parents who had dared in
private secretly to teach their children to worship God.
The naked avowal of the principle of thorough-going perse
cution by so prominent a " liberal " has surprised

Atheism in- J

w"thtoTera- many, but, in truth, we think the Professor has
tion. jiere shown himself to be both logical and rational.

Except upon a basis of intuitive morality and the relation of
the conscience to God, there is and can be no solid basis on
which the rights of minorities can securely repose. The
natural and necessary alliance between atheism and the most
extreme and hardest form of despotism — a despotism like
that of the Pagan empire, ignoring conscience altogether —
was empirically manifested in France in 1793 and 1870 ;
and it is a characteristic circumstance that Professor Huxley
refers to and quotes the congenial authority of Hobbes, who,
" with a true instinct, would have laid deep the foundations
of atheism and despotism together, resolving all right into
might, and not merely robbing men, if he could, of the power,
but denying to them the duty, of obeying God rather than
man." * Christianity and Judaism, by preferring martyrdom
to apostasy, first taught men the rights of conscience, and
may be destined to repeat the lesson a second time in opposi
tion to a revived paganism, and as a result, of a new tempo
rary persecution by it of the Christian Church.

We may now turn to the consideration of the third set of
practical consequences, namely, the practical tendencies
ounces. resulting from the reception of a Non-theistic
Philosophy.

But here the objection may be made that science and
philosophy have no concern for consequences. Professor
Huxley, at Belfast, has proclaimed that he does not care for
them ; and physical philosophers generally protest that they
care only for " truth," which at all hazards must unhesitat-

* Archbishop Trench: 'The Study of Words,' p. 171.

CHAP. XIII.] CONSEQUENCES. 401

ingly be investigated and pursued. Now such a protest and
declaration is reasonable enough in the mouths of those who
accept the philosophy here advocated. We can reasonably
proclaim the supreme importance of truth and the expe
diency of its unhesitating, continuous, and unlimited pursuit,
because of the conviction that the universe is the work of a
good God. But it would be interesting to know on L, truth ne-
what rational grounds philosophers who oppose STe?yde
Theism could support their conviction that truth is necessa
rily a good— how they can logically assert this without the
belief that the Cause of all things is necessarily a God of
truth. Experience may show that truth has been generally
beneficial, but it can never make its beneficence axiomatic,
or render it impossible that in certain cases "ignorance"
may not be bliss, "wisdom" "folly," and « deceitfulness "
expedient.

Theists may, indeed, confidently exclaim —

"Magna est veritas et prevalebit ;"

but the experiences which history makes known to us amply
support the declaration—

" Magnum est mendacium et prevaluit"

Nor can the merely temporary nature of its prevalence be
logically maintained as a certain truth by any non-theist.

Certainly, if such views as those of Mr. Mill, Mr. Spencer,
and Professor Huxley as to the impotence of the human
will were true, the only hope of humanity would be that it
should " believe a lie." For as human moral progress has
been effected hitherto under the belief in moral responsibility,
it is unquestionable that were men universally convinced and
able fully to realise that such responsibility is a delusion,
and that their every thought is absolutely predetermined, a
general paralysis of moral effort must necessarily ensue.

It is undeniable then that all non-theists who wish well
to their fellows need to examine with scrupulous anxiety

2 D

402 LESSONS FROM NATURE. [CHAP. XIII.

and care the tendencies and probable consequences of their
utterances, however convinced they may be that such utter
ances are true.

But let us look a little closer at some modern teaching
likely to affect conduct. Dr. Levvins tells* us: —

Some pro- J

positions « Earth is Paradise if the healthy operation of every

with ethical J r J

applications, anatomical structure could be preserved. . . . All
that is fabled by poets, saints, martyrs, founders of sects and
systems, under the term Saturnian, or Golden Age, Kingdom
of Heaven, Paradise, &c , is comprehended in that supreme
bien etre which results from the equilibrium of the bodily
functions." Harmonizing with such declarations and with
that exaggerated estimate of brute existence now so popular,
is the teaching of Professor Ed. V. Hartmann. This ex
positor of science, impregnated with antichristian philosophy,
teaches t as follows: — "It is important to make beast life
better known to youth as being the truest source of pure
nature, wherein they may learn to understand their true
~being in its simplest form, and in it rest and refresh them
selves after the artificiality and deformity of our social con
dition." Again he tells \ us : — " The individuals of the lower
and poorer classes and rough savages, are happier than the
instructed and well-to-do classes." And he goes on to affirm
that similarly brutes are happier than men ; ending with the
remarkable sentence : " Let us only think how agreeably an
ox or a Tiog lives, almost as if he had learned to do so from
Aristotle." Here we have an actual modern resurrection of
that old Pagan frame of mind satirized by Dr. Newman in
the soliloquy of Jucundus :§ —

" Enjoyment's the great rule : ask yourself, have I made
the most of things ? . . . I've often thought the hog is the
only really wise animal. We should be happier if we were
all hogs. Hogs keep the end of life steadily in view."

* ' Life and Mind,' by Kobert Lewins, M.D.
t ' Philosophic des Unbewussten,' p. 359.
J Op. cit. p. 712.
§ ' Callista,' pp. 48, 49.

CHAP, xm.] CONSEQUENCES. 403

One of the greatest of the achievements of the last two
thousand years has been the successful promulga- p

D runty of in-

tion of the doctrine that purity of intention, and tention-
not success, is that which is really deserving of esteem. Yet
the essential heartlessness of Non-theisni is showing itself,
every now and_ then, in its true colours. To show this the
more clearly, we may quote the words of one who, in so
many ways, contrasts favourably with other members of that
school of thought. The exigencies of his philosophical posi
tion have betrayed even Mr. Herbert Spencer into speaking*
of the " Worthy " and the " Unworthy " as synonymous with
the " well " and the " ill-to-do ;" and he does not guard him
self from being understood to call the poor and the un
successful by the opprobrious epithet, " good-for-nothings."

Another phenomenon of the last eighteen hundred years
has been the establishment of at least a pure theory Sexual rela_
of the sexual relations, and the protection of the tions-
weaker sex against the selfishness of male concupiscence.
Now, however, marriage is the constant object of attack, and
unrestrained licentiousness theoretically justified. The pro
miscuous intercourse of some degraded tribes is often spoken of
under the term " communal marriage" and the cause of " free-
love " is, of course, directly promoted by every phrase which
tends to assimilate in terms the two very distinct states, and so
pave the way for their legislative assimilation. And it is very
natural it should be so. Cumbrous and involved must be the
reasoning of any one who, while denying (as the advocates of
the bestiality of man must deny) any real distinction between
duty and pleasure, would at the same time seek to maintain
the stringency of existing sexual customs on the basis of mere
expediency. Once admit this expediency, i.e., the promotion
of the physical welfare of the race, to be the one only rule of
conduct, and the door is opened for the free ingress of the
strangest propositions. Once deny the distinction between
material and formal morality — once, that is, identify in essence

* ' Contemporary Keview,' August 1873, p. 339.

2 D 2

404 LESSONS FEOM NATUKE. [CHAP. XIII.

and origin duty with pleasure — and the social maxims which
may be put forward and defended are somewhat startling.

I am myself acquainted with a gentleman of very high
culture and very advanced views, who deliberately main
tains (although his own life is like that of other Englishmen)
that it would be a great benefit to propagate in modern
society customs of Pagan Greece and Borne which are gene
rally looked upon as specially revolting, advocating them on
strictly utilitarian principles.

The justice of such remarks as these is sometimes very irra-
c«mduct m tionally disputed on account of the personal virtues
CSftacn- of men who may profess Anti-theistic views. But if
teacS. leaders or propagators of the Non-theistic philosophy
are men who lead a life materially moral, it is only so much
the worse. It is so much the worse, because such a life is the
means of giving far greater currency to dangerous views, the
very dangers of which such a life more or less disguises. Of
two men, one leading a life of this moral kind, but influ-
entially propagating the Agnostic philosophy, and another
simply leading a grossly sensual one, which does the most
harm to others ? There cannot be a moment's dispute about
it. The most profligate of men can by his personal conduct
corrupt but a few ; but the Agnostic who, by his publications,
tends to sap the basis of all morality spreads corruption far
and wide, not only in his own, but in succeeding generations
also. However warm may be our personal regard for such
an Agnostic, however much we may enjoy his society, or
appreciate his warm-heartedness, we must none the less con
fess that, absolutely and in fact, he is one of the worst
enemies of the human race. Begret it as we may, there is
no rational way of avoiding such a judgment.

Again, let us suppose, for argument's sake, that Christianity
is true ; let it be granted for the same reason, per impossibile
or per absurdum, that there is a living personification of the
principle of evil. Would such a being for a moment allow
serious temptation to come in our Agnostic philosopher's
way? Would he not scrupulously guard him from any

CHAP. XIII.] CONSEQUENCES. 405

such peril, lest perchance a shameful fall might develop
some latent germ of humility in him, the existence of
which might be discernible by such preternaturally acute
vision ?

With respect to proposed restrictions on the marriage of
those who cannot brinof proofs of freedom from disease A

w •*• An objpction

not only in themselves but in their ancestors, some Strffi^^n
remarks made by Dr. Samuel Wilks, F.R.S., may marriase-
be quoted. They are on the study of the human mind
from a physiological mew, and appeared in the January
number of the 'Journal of Mental Science' for 1875. He
there says : — -

" Has the time arrived in which we could adopt any of those rules
in the choice of marriages which can be followed in the breeding of
animals, as is suggested in ' Lothair ?' ' It is the first duty of the State
to attend to the health and frame of the subject. The union of the
races concerns the welfare of the commonwealth much too nearly to be
intrusted to individual arrangement.' The subject has been lately
developed in one or two essays, and more especially in reference to the
mixture of the insane element into human society. In reference to this it
must be said, that at the present time we have not sufficient knowledge
of temperaments, under what conditions they arise, and, in fact, how
they are produced ; nor do we know, when regarding certain tempera
ments, how the good and bad are intermingled ; that is, how with what
we call morbid tendencies there may not be important bodily and mental
characteristics and activities of great value. One kind of person whom
England is apt to produce some would purposely avoid as being liable
to gout, with all its attendant evils ; and yet, though gouty, he is a
vigorous, active, independent man. Another kind of person, whom we
call consumptive, and which England is also especially apt to produce,
would be avoided ; and yet there is in him often a wonderful activity.
Then again, if the person inclined to insanity is the one above all to be
shunned in a marriage connection, it might turn out that we were
losing some of the best blood of the country. It is no doubt fearful to
think of a man or woman marrying with a strong taint of insanity,
and bringing into the world a family of lunatics; but it does not follow
that an infusion of the insane blood may not be desirable."

And he tells us : —

" I believe Dr. Maudsley has also expressed this opinion. I think
it might easily be shown that such infusion has given genius to a

406 LESSONS FKOJ1 NATURE. [CHAP. XIII.

whole family; it has leavened the whole mass. There may be an
intellectual element which in moderation is good, and in excess is none
other than madness, in the same way that common sense may find its
acme in an inactive dolt. It is this very case of the supposed value of
getting rid of the insane element in society that would make me hesi
tate before I offered any restrictions to marriage, or dared to dictate to
my fellow-creatures as to the impropriety or otherwise of mixing
certain temperaments."

Amongst important practical consequences of the spread of
conse- such non-theistic, i.e., irreligious views as those
?eugeanrdss as noticed in this chapter, is the eager demand for
cauonare " "secular education," in what is the present real
signification of that term.

The current of popular feeling which now runs in favour
of State education is as yet too strong to allow anything like
a fair hearing to the weighty arguments by which Mr.
Herbert Spencer disputes the justice and denies the expe
diency of any such State action at all. Nevertheless, only a
very small minority will probably persist in advocating the
education of all poor children at the expense of parents
generally in the tenets and dogmas of one, as yet, very in
considerable sect — that of the Secularists — when once they
fully understand that this is the result of "secular" or
" unsectarian education." At some future day it may,
indeed, hardly be deemed credible that attempts should have
been made in England, in the middle of the nineteenth
century, to force a majority of Englishmen to pay for the
education of their children in a creed utterly hostile to that
which their parents profess, and this too in the name of
'•freedom."

It is not here contended, however, that truly " secular "
instruction cannot fairly and innocently enough be one day
<nven. But whether it can be so given or not will depend
upon the question whether the influence of the non-theistic
philosophy is at the time dominant. What is contended is
that existing conditions do not admit of such a process, and
that to attempt it is to attempt a most gross and flagrant
injustice.

CHAP. XIII.] CONSEQUENCES.

407

Mr. Henry Holbeach may be cited as an unprejudiced
witness in this matter. He tells * us :—

" The great majority of scientific men at the present time pursue a
purely positive method, and the primary assumptions of that method
are fatal to all theological conceptions. It should not need much argu
ment to show that they are, at lowest, fatal to any theological concep
tions such as those upon which Christianity as a system is necessarily
engrafted. Now a professor might preach an orthodox sermon every
Sunday, subscribe Sir Koundell Palmer's pledge ex animo, and have
Christian prayers before and after class, and yet, if he taught science
after the manner of Biichner, he would be opposing not only Chris
tianity, but Theism, with the whole stress of his mind, and his pupils

would, at the best, turn out sceptics Those, if any, who

imagine that these characteristic features cannot and would not of
necessity be introduced into the ' secular ' teaching of the young under
State sanction — who think that an anti-theological animus cannot be
made effective in the instruction given to children— are very much

mistaken But besides all this, it is certain that the scientific

teaching all over the world is so Vain is it to reply, these

are not questions brulantes. They are not, and they are; and if they
are decided in favour of state-applied education on the secular basis,
they simply introduce the thin edge of the wedge ; and after the whips
will come the scorpions ; after the deeds in the green tree the deeds in
the dry. And we should have, already, this state of things :— Paid for
in part by the religious classes, compulsory secular teaching, that is
necessarily pervaded by a spirit which they regard as anti-religious."

An attempt has recently been made to meet this difficulty
by the Rev. William Mackintosh,! who proposes T^RCV.
the introduction of an ethical teaching apart from Mackintosh.
religion — a moral catechism divorced from theology. He
indeed throws overboard the absurd notion of teaching the
Christian religion in general, but no special form of it in
particular. He says :—

" If by way of removing all ground of complaint and offence we
eliminate from the teaching of Christianity all debatable matter con
cerning which the sects take different views, there remains little to be

communicated in the name of religion It would be easy to

demonstrate that the chimerical character of so-called unsectarian, or
undenominational teaching cannot be remedied by leaving its ad
ministration to the discretion of the teachers, as has been proposed."

* ' Contemporary Review,' April 1872

f See • Contemporary Review,' January 1874.

408 LESSONS FROM NATUEE. [CHAP. XIII.

He proposes* a manual to inculcate "the common,
universal, personal and social duties .... and that other
doctrine of an Unseen Power which presides over all ....
Such a manual," he says, " would lead up to religion, or place
the children in its vestibule, but take them no further."

Now doubtless such a course as that proposed, if really
practicable, might have, in our religiously divided condition,
certain advantages, and it is by no means impossible that
in the future something of the kind may be attained, but it
will not be by the exclusion of religion, which is unconsciously
included by Mr. Mackintosh, while attempting actually to
exclude it— the above-quoted phrase, "an Unseen Power
which presides over all," means either nothing, or it means a
whole system of profound dogmatic theology. This phrase
seems to be a concession to the nonsense of Mr. Matthew
Arnold about "a stream of tendency," "an Eternal, not our
selves, making for righteousness." As to which Mr. Henry
Dunnt exclaims: "'We ought not to speak of God as a
Person, one who thinks and loves,' says Mr. Arnold, for
this tends to make us think of God ' as if He were a magnified

and non-natural man in the next street.' But how,

except it be under human conditions, can I know what is
meant by the 'Eternal, not ourselves, making for righteous
ness' ? .... I am told I must not talk of God as one who
loves, because the relation of God to man, so understood, is
not verifiable .... Quite as verifiable, I think, as are the
statements that 'the enduring power around us makes for
righteousness. &c.' "

Mr. Mackintosh, of course, does not propose that the
children shall repeat the phrase, "an Unseen Power which
presides over all," without attaching any meanin^ to their
articulations. Mr. Mackintosh means by it, of course, God as
understood by natural theology. A "Power" which can
neither know the children nor be known by them, which
must therefore be supposed destitute of every really moral

* Lor. cit. p. 2dl.

'Brief Nott-a ou Mr. Matthew Arnold's Literature and Dogma.'

CHAP. XIII.] CONSEQUENCES. ' 409

attribute (presiding over the universe as the sun presides
over the solar system), can have no moral influence on their
minds, and might as well be altogether omitted.

It is impossible to avoid theology. A man must either
believe that God exists, or that He does not exist, or that
His existence is unknowable, or possibly knowable, but to
him unknown; and each one of these beliefs is in fact a
dogma, pregnant with the most momentous consequences.
Similarly, as regards a future life, a man must hold either
that he has, or that he has not, grounds sufficient for acting
in this life with a direct view to the next. One of these two
beliefs is just as dogmatic as the other, both will be fruitful
in effects ; while to bring up children in silence as regards a
future life is equivalent to teaching them that the second
belief is the true one.

Then as to mere morals, what would Mr. Mackintosh have
the children taught as to their duties to this Unseen Power
itself? If they are taught nothing, no irreverence need
surprise us : why should they reverence anything indefinitely
beneath themselves ?

Here, as in so many other lines of thought, Mr. Herbert
Spencer's declarations boldly oppose popular superstition.
Eidiculing the prevalent educational notions on this subject,
he exclaims : * " See here the proposals and the implied
beliefs. Teaching by clergymen not having had the desired
effect, let us try teaching by schoolmasters. Bible-reading
from a pulpit, with the accompaniment of imposing archi
tecture, painted windows, tombs, and ' dim religious light/
having proved inadequate, suppose we try Bible-reading in
rooms with bare walls, relieved only by maps, and drawings

of animals Certainly, such influence as may be

gained by addressing moral truths to the intellect is made
greater if the accompaniments arouse an appropriate emotional
excitement, as a religious service does ; while, conversely,
there can be no more effectual way of divesting such moral

Contemporary Review ' for September 1873, p. 517.

410 LESSONS FKOM NATUEE. [CHAP. XIII.

truths of their impressiveness than associating them with the
prosaic and vulgarizing sounds and sights and smells coming
from crowded children."

It is here contended, then, that Mr. Mackintosh is both
A positive right and wrong : right, in advocating a common
compromise, g^ical teaching ; wrong, in wishing to exclude
theology. What many persons believe would be far better
than a mere colourless hazy system of Bible-reading and
vague insinuation of nebulous doctrines would be a clear,
sharp, distinct, and positive inculcation of natural religion
apart from any teaching of revealed religion. The inculca
tion, that is, of a belief in a Personal and Holy God, moral
responsibility, and rewards and punishments in an immortal
state of future individual existence.

Such teaching, and a manual framed to convey it, some
think might give satisfaction to all but the small sect of
Antitheists. All Christian bodies, all Unitarians and Deists
even, might acquiesce in such teaching, since the foundation
for all would here be laid, while the rights of none would be en
croached on. The special superstructure of each might then
well be added by the purely religious teaching which each
would bring to bear upon the children under their influence.

Ethics would come to repose on a secure basis, for although
moral precepts do not depend upon the will of God, yet
apart from Him they can have no stable existence.

But it is not only the teaching of children that has to
Need of a be- be considered. In the face of the prosperity of
rewardaand8 vice and the success of evil designs, which so often
meats, dazzle the eyes of those under temptation, what
rational motive can be presented to the will of even adults,
to induce them to repress a wrong desire, which he who feels
it thinks he may safely indulge, apart from the existence of a
good God and a future life ? All men are, of course, more or
less influenced by kind-hearted and generous feelings, and a
sensible pleasure in different degrees generally attends the
performance of good actions, but by no means always so
— sometimes they are most painful.

CHAP. XIIL] CONSEQUENCES. 411

But the question is how to influence the will towards a
good action painful to the performer, and for which he sees
no prospect of present or future advantage to himself. Mr.
Lewes admits* the impotence of his philosophy in this
matter. He says : " If a man is insensible to the welfare of
others, we can no more convince him he ought to feel for
them than we can convince the blind man that he ought to
see the glories of colour." Why should such a one try to
acquire an inclination to good which he does not now possess ?
We are rational beings, and clearly see that that which gives
us happiness is worthy of regard and pursuit. The Agnostic
philosopher, the disciple of Spencer, Huxley, Lewes, Mill, or
Bain, who should really simply deprive himself of a pleasure,
would be acting irrationally. If he felt pleasure in the self-
denying action, he would of course naturally, and rationally
on his own principles, perform it, but certainly not if he felt
no such pleasure ; if he then did it, he would simply be a fool.
Let us grant for argument's sake that moral perception is
really but the inherited naturally selected tendency to benefit
one's tribe. Can any rational man be expected, as soon as
he awakes to a sense of the delusion he has been under, not
to regulate his actions accordingly ? His rational nature
cannot but despise (avowedly or secretly) modes of action
which have no intelligible basis. And this remark applies
to the humanitarian religion, which would have us toil, not
for any happiness to ourselves or those dear to us (another
form of self-gratification), but for a remote posterity which is
to nourish for an instant before the great final lapse into
annihilation of all mankind. On this matter Mr. Mott well
observes :f —

" The hope of progress, to have any powerful influence upon us,
must be the hope of something in which we ourselves, or those who
are really dear to us, can share ; not the hope that a higher race of
beings will inhabit the earth long after we have done with it. If I
heard that the Emperor of China was a much better and nobler being
than myself, I do not feel that I should be much elated by the news.

* • Problems of Life arid Mind,' vol. i. p. 457.
t ' Origin of Savage Life,' p. 43.

412 LESSONS FEOM NATUKE. [CHAP. XIII.

Even if I congratulated himself and his subjects, my personal feelings
would be rather grim. In like manner, the knowledge that my own
lot, and the lot of those I love, was a very miserable one compared
with what my descendants would inherit a thousand years hence,
could not give me a very cheerful view of life in general. Nor is there
any selfishness in this, for selfishness does not consist in highly valuing
our own happiness— this is surely what the angels do— but in being
willing to sacrifice the happiness of others in order to secure our own.
" The hope of improving the condition of others in whom our affec
tions are interested is indeed one of the highest motives for exertion ;
but to suppose that we can carry such affection forward to far distant
generations is to misinterpret human nature. The feeling which is
mistaken for such transcendental love is a sentimental product of the
imagination, which seeks to render the hope of individual immortality
unnecessary to our happiness, by persuading us to forget the individual
and to think only of the race. The feeling is false to nature, and can
never be a real power in the world."

Before quitting finally the question of public education
TWO ambi- we ma7 notice an ambiguity lurking in the term
guinea, a sectarian education."

In the first place, what is "sectarianism"? There are
people who seem to imagine that an opinion may be an
"opinion in general." But, in fact, each opinion must have
a definite existence, just as no man in general exists, but
only definite individual men. Every man, as certainly as he
has eyes of a definite colour, and a nose of a definite form*
must have definite opinions on the subjects which occupy his
thoughts, even though it be the sceptical one that certainly
has not been, and cannot be attained. Thus with regard to
philosophy and religion, to bring up men without attempting
to give them definite teaching on such subjects, is the same
thing as directly teaching them that philosophy and religion
are unimportant matters, possessing no certainty whatever.
This view is just as definite, just as sectarian as any other ;
and those who hold it will tend to sympathise with and aid
each other, just as will the holders of any other philosophical
or religious opinion.

A similar ambiguity to that which clings to the word
" sectarianism " attends the popular use of the term " educa
tion " itself. Education means the cultivation of the whole

CHAP. XIII.] CONSEQUENCES, 413

man, body and soul, and the latter in its entirety ; emotion
and will, as well as sense and intellect. No one can deny
that religious dogmas have often a powerful effect for good
or ill in stimulating the emotions and the will. No one,
therefore, can deny that education without religious dogmas
is necessarily defective and imperfect, though each may have
his view as to what those dogmas should be.

As regards the intellect itself, no education can be regarded
as satisfactory which does not tend to stimulate its Education
highest powers. But education mainly carried on i^the^I
by physical science, tends to an undue preponderance est P°wers-
of the senses, that is to say, of the lowest faculties of the
soul. The highest intellectual activity — philosophical science
— cannot, of course, be directly taught in poor schools.
Nevertheless, it is difficult to see why the highest results of
philosophical science should not be imparted as well as the
results of other sciences, e.g., astronomy. No one would
deprecate the imparting to poor children rational conceptions
of the starry heavens, on the ground that they cannot be
taught to examine and calculate for themselves, so as to
have an independent knowledge of astronomical laws and
phenomena. Now religion brings down to the popular appre
hension, and embodies the highest results of philosophy.
Those, therefore, who would exclude it from our schools
would deprive the masses of such share as is open to them of
the highest truth.

A parallel folly would be to insist on each man working
out for himself his own astronomy. As religion, however,
has infinitely more to do with practical life than has astro
nomy, it is plain that to exclude it is an infinitely more
momentous matter.

Thus the movement in favour of education — in the abstract
most admirable — tends in the concrete to be perverted, with
calamitous effect, through misapprehension of the true mean
ing of the word ; and in this way aspirations worthy of all
praise, and a zeal which cannot be too much commended,
run the risk of producing effects the very opposite to those

414 LESSONS FKOM NATURE. [CHAP. XIII.

really aimed at by the great body of those so interested in
the cause we are discussing.

All who have at heart the welfare of their country must
desire the wide diffusion of a spirit of self-control and rational
subordination, and the depression of the more selfish and
brutal instincts of our nature.

Men are moved to action by a variety of motives, such as,
Motives 1, their admiration of what is virtuous ; 2, their

which move 1 . .

men to act. admiration for what is beautiful ; 3, their admiration
for what is true ; 4, their sympathy for some or all of their
fellow-men ; 5, the desire of their own greatest good ; 6, the
hope of reward; 7, the fear of punishment; and 8, the
gratification of their instincts and passions.

This being so, let us see what is likely to be the effect of
a wide-spread belief that an absolutely perfect, omnipresent,
omnipotent, all-holy God will distribute to every one in a
future life rewards and punishments exactly proportionate to
every deed, word, and thought, for which in this life their
will is responsible, that will having the power of self-deter
mination : —

1. The admiration of virtue, goodness, and truth, is inten
sified and rationalised as of the essence of the ALL-PERFECT —
a reasonable object for our utmost love.

2. Sympathy for our fellows acquires a basis which else it
lacks, and this belief can never be the reason of that sympathy
resulting in an unjust action, as, under the governance of an
all-holy God, we cannot really benefit a friend by any evil,
though kindly-intentioned act.

3. The natural desire for our own greatest good is thus
seen to coincide absolutely with the law of "right."

4. The hope of reward and fear of punishment are inten
sified and again directed to a coincidence with the same law
of " right."

5. The gratification of our instincts and passions, in con
travention of the law of right, is impeded by the influence of
motives, which are at once the highest and the most powerful.

On the other hand, if we are so unhappy as to disbelieve

CHAP. XIII.] CONSEQUENCES. 415

in God and a future life, we then have but a subjective
support for our intuitions of truth, goodness, and beauty, and
no certainty that we cannot benefit those we love by evil
actions, if such appear desirable to us ; moreover, we then
have no motive for loving our neighbour, or forgiving our
enemy, beyond what our spontaneous disposition prompts us
to love or to forgive. In the same way, such disbelief
deprives us of any certainty that "the right" is "necessarily
our greatest happiness," rewards and punishments become
confined to this world, and merely such as we may hope to
obtain without real merit, or to evade. In the same way,
again, we cease to have any motive to restrain our instincts
and passions beyond the degree to which selfish considerations
prompt us to restrain them.

Place two men, in all things equal, save that one accepts,
and the other rejects the belief referred to. Let them be
exposed to temptations. It is as certain as any mathematical
truth that such beliefs will operate in promoting virtue, and
in repressing vice in the one who accepts them.

What then must be the effect of education in which these
supreme truths are ignored ? What must be the effect of an
" amelioration " of the condition of the masses which should,
at first, give them increased physical comfort indeed, but
which should tend to make such considerations as temporal
welfare the all-important or primary one ?

As to the consequences of the wide acceptance of his, Mr.
Herbert Spencer's, views, that writer himself admits : —

" Few, if any, are as yet fitted wholly to dispense with such [reli
gious] conceptions as are current. The highest abstractions take so
great a mental power to realise with any vividness, and are so inopera
tive upon conduct unless they are vividly realised, that their regulative
effects must for a long period to come be appreciable on but a small

minority Those who relinquish the faith in which they have

been brought up, for this most abstract faith in which science and
religion unite, may not uncommonly fail to act up to their convictions.
Left to their organic morality, enforced only by general reasonings
imperfectly wrought out and difficult to keep before the mind, their
delects of nature will often come out more strongly than they would
have done under their previous creed." — First Principles, p. 117.

416 LESSONS FROM NATURE. [CHAP. XIII.

These a priori teachings as to the necessary tendencies of
religious convictions are supported by many a posteriori con
siderations. It is a widely spread notion that ignorance and
crime go hand in hand; but the most notorious and con
spicuous criminals of late years have been far from unedu
cated men. Rush, Palmer, Pritchard, Watson, Traupmann,
Wainwright, occur to the mind at once ; and it is un
questionable that the educated classes in this country and
France furnish a fair percentage of the criminal population.
If we take cases in which crime is connected with political
passions, France, from 1789 to the present day, proclaims
loudly how little guarantee intellectual culture offers against
the most lamentable and criminal aberrations.

A rational self-control, due subordination, and a proper
repression of selfish passions often enough fail to be exercised,
even with the aid of religious training; but it is inevitable
that such training should tend to such repression ; while that
the absence of religion tends to occasion effects of an opposite
character, is not only plain to the reason a priori, but is
made manifest by conspicuous examples.

These truths have lately strongly impressed themselves
on the minds of some of our impulsive neighbours on the
other side of the Channel. We might have expected a more
important reformatory action in France than there yet appears
to be any evidence of ; but the mischief has been too deeply
ingrained by the calamity of a century of corrupting influences.
It is consoling, however, that here and there we find evidences
of a clear perception of the fundamental and most important
truth which we are now endeavouring to inculcate.

M. Le Play, in a recent pamphlet, recalls his fellow-
countrymen to the practice of obeying the ten

M. LePlay. J ,

commandments as the only safe and sure road to
national prosperity, and he laments how —

" la nation se persuade, depuis longtemps, qu'elle s'est assuree 1'adnii-
ration et le succes par les revolutions qui n'ont fait qu'aggraver les
maux de la monarchic absolue, qui n'ont produit au dedans que la
decadence, et qui n'ont suscite au dehors que le mepris."

CHAP. XIII.] CONSEQUENCES. 417

M. Le Play * is a highly original worker and author far
too little known or appreciated in this country, where the
eminently practical and positive character of his researches
should be especially appreciated. His publications on social
matters do not repose on a mere collection of the observations
of others. He has spent years in not only visiting different
countries, from England and Portugal to Tartary and Arabia,
but he has actually resided in the houses and families of
working men of different kinds in all these different countries,
observing with his own eyes the practical results of the dif
ferent political, racial, geographical, and climatic conditions
of the subjects of his prolonged and exhaustive inquiries.

But yet another consequence remains to be noticed in
connection with conduct. If the lessons herein- Responsi-
before deduced from nature are correctly deduced, iKfi?"
and if the consequences of the acceptance or rejection of
such teaching be such as here represented, a specially awful
responsibility must surely rest upon men of any social
influence— a responsibility both as regards their fellow-men
and themselves. But a very small degree of human kind
ness and sympathy must be requisite to bring home to such
men the need and duty of attaining a distinct certainty both
of the non-existence of God and the mortality of the soul
before they venture to advise their fellow-men to discard
from their thoughts and actions all reference to either.

As regards themselves, if God exists— if, that is, there is
a Being of Absolute Beauty and Holiness— it follows as a
strictly logical consequence that there cannot be any evil for
a moment comparable with that of a voluntary denial of
worship or of any other conscious rebellion against Him. It
also becomes manifest that if there be a personal embodiment
of evil the one motto of such a being must be the proud one,
"Non serviamr It necessarily follows that those who con
sciously or unconsciously, avowedly or practically adopt his
motto must, however good-natured or fascinating in manner,

TT*- ^^ v ' LCS 9?vri( rs europ&nV and other works, and founder of the
Union de la Paix soctale.

2 E

418 LESSONS FROM NATUEE. [CHAP. XIII.

or however materially moral, be absolutely and in fact the
very worst men the world contains as long as they continue
to act according to that motto. Moreover, not only the
supreme vice but the unspeakable folly of such a line of
conduct must become plain, and the truth of the dictum
" initium sapientise timor Domini," be one of the most certain
of all truths.

Let us then contrast the characters presented by the
Agnostic philosophy with those presented by that system
which (as here contended) is the direct teaching of nature.

Of the Agnostic philosophy it may be affirmed :—
characters of 1. It fails to account for or harmonize with the
pwi^ophy.10 dicta of consciousness as to the substantiality and
persistence of the Ego.

2. It fails correctly to interpret the ultimate and funda
mental declarations of consciousness as to necessary truth.

3. It denies the validity of that power of intensifying a
motive by a voluntary act of selective attention of which
power our own minds are conscious.

4. It does not accept as valid the principle of contradiction,
deprived of which our intellectual state becomes necessarily
chaotic,

5. It negatives the declarations of idealist philosophers
upon grounds which would justify the popular beliefs as to
objectivity, and yet it denies to such beliefs all truth and
reality.

6. It makes no essential distinction between the self-con
scious intellect of man, manifested by a language expressing
general conceptions, and the association of sensible percep
tions, as cognized by the sentient faculties of brutes, capable
of expressing themselves by emotional signs only.

7. It takes no cognizance of our perceptions of truth, good
ness, and beauty, as such, nor of our apprehension of the
relatedness of relations.

8. It is absolutely fatal to every germ of morality.

9. It absolutely negatives every form of religion.

10. It absolutely stultifies itself by proclaiming its own

CHAP. XIII.] CONSEQUENCES. 419

untruth, as included in its assertion that all our knowledge
is but phenomenal and relative.

The theory of Evolution has now become of the very essence
of this philosophy. Seeing, then, the wide-spread acceptance
of the evolutionary theory, it may well be asked, is there
any necessary connection between that theory and such
philosophy ? Do such philosophical consequences necessarily
follow from that theory, however understood, or are they
confined to the Spencerian and Darwinian forms of it ?

It is, indeed, certain that any view of Evolution which
should deny every distinction of kind between the mind of
man and the psychical faculties of brutes would necessarily
involve all the consequences here deprecated. But no such
bar exists to the acceptance of evolution as applied to the
" unfolding " from potential into real existence of constantly
new forms of animals and plants. Even the actualisation
(upon the occurrence of the requisite conditions) of latent
life and sentiency in inorganic matter — so far as such life
and sentiency be conceived as depending upon and con
sequently united with material substance — may be affirmed
without involving the results objected to.

Such a theory of Evolution perfectly harmonizes with the
presence in man of that substantial and persistent soul which,
as we have seen, the voice of consciousness agrees with those
of reason and volition in demanding.

In contrast with the Agnostic philosophy, that which it is
here contended may be gathered from Nature presents the
following characters. Of such philosophy it may be affirmed :

1. It accounts for and harmonizes with the dicta of con
sciousness as to the Ego.

2. It readily accepts the declarations of reason as to ulti
mate and necessary truths.

3. It asserts that power of election which our reason and
perception of responsibility make known to us.

4. It, of course, fully accepts the principle of contradic
tion, and thereby induces order into our intellectual cog
nitions.

2 E 2

420 LESSONS FKOM NATUEE. [CHAP. XIII.

5. It accords with the teaching of common sense without
being bound down within its limits.

6. It establishes the distinction between reason and in
stinct, and between language and emotional expressions.

7. It takes cognizance of our highest perceptions, includ
ing those of truth, goodness, and beauty as such.

8. It supports and enforces moral teaching.

9. It harmonizes with the declarations of religion, both
natural and revealed.

10. It asserts its own truth in affirming the validity of our
primary intuitions.

What, then, can be the motive for rejecting a philosophy
which accords with the facts of experience, co-ordinates and
explains them, and for accepting one so laboured yet so
inadequate as the one here criticised ? It is much to be
feared that with many the objection lies in the last point
but one enumerated by us in its favour. If so, the sting must
lie in the fact of its harmony with religion. A passionate
hatred of religion, 'however discreetly or astutely veiled, lies
at the bottom of much of the popular metaphysical teaching
now in vogue.

A belief in the necessary inconsistency of science with
Dislike of re- religion is therefore persistently propagated amongst

ligion some- , i i • i •• 11" .

timesmduces the public by writings and lectures in which more

the accept- ..,.,. ,

anceofit. is implied than asserted. In such lectures attempts
have again and again been made to strike theology through
physical science, to blacken religion with coal-dust, or to pelt
it with fragments of chalk, or to smother it with sub-atlantic
mud, or to drown it in a sea of protoplasm.

Delenda est Carthago ! No system is to be tolerated which
will lead men to accept a personal God, moral responsibility,
and a future state of rewards and punishments. Let these
unwelcome truths be once eliminated, and no system is
deemed undeserving of a candid, if not a sympathetic, con
sideration, and, c&teris paribus, that system which excludes
them the most efficaciously becomes the most acceptable.

The appeal here made, however, is not to religion but

CHAP. XHL] CONSEQUENCES. 421

to reason, not to authority but to intelligence, not to
any dogmatic system but to the pure, unadulterated, and
unprejudiced human reason if haply anywhere it may
be obtained for our use. By that we must be prepared
to stand or fall.

The consequences then which have been here put forward,
merit, if they have been rightly represented, the
attention of every man who becomes acquainted
with them. Though such considerations, if taken alone, may
be insufficient to determine the judgment, they may suffice
to accentuate propositions the truth of which has been
established from other sources. Though inconclusive alone,
their corroborative efficacy may well be considerable.

( 422 )

CHAPTER XIV.

A POSTSCRIPT.

" This postscript is called for by an unamended republication by Pro
fessor Huxley of his criticism on the ' Genesis of Species,' of which he in
part misapprehends, in part misrepresents the arguments. A Theist
should anticipate a revelation. The Christian revelation asserts crea
tion, but at the same time lays down principles which so harmonize
with Evolution that no contradiction can arise in this respect between
its doctrines and physical science. This harmony must be preordained."

WITH the preceding chapter the argument followed in this
TMS ost- book comes to its natural close, but a circumstance,

to be presently adverted to, seems to render it
for- desirable to extend our survey one step further.

We have gathered from Nature in the foregoing chapters
the supreme lesson of the existence of a personal First
Cause of infinite power and wisdom and absolute goodness.
Reason ex- Beyond this, however, reason is unable to proceed
tiouf16 unaided, though it shows us clearly that a revela
tion as to the nature of God, and concerning our relations with
and duties towards Him, is what is to be a priori expected
from a being of absolute goodness and power. This expectant
attitude is that which philosophy ought rationally to assume.

The course, however, which modern philosophy has taken,
Modem phi- though for a time seeming to tend towards the

losophybas . . . „ , . . . .„ .

diverged anticipation oi revelation (one instiiying an ex-

fromthis , v i j. j 1

attitude. pectant attitude towards it), has diverged remark
ably in the opposite direction.

The secular dispute between those who assert and those
who deny that all our ideas are modified sensations and no
more has undergone a strange transformation within the last

CHAP. XIV.] A POSTSCRIPT. 423

quarter of a century and \\ith this transformation we witness
a strange reaction.

The ambiguity of Locke caused his system to be developed
by Hume, through Berkeley, into scepticism, and by Con-
dillac into unmitigated materialism. These results were the
occasion of that Kantian resurrection hailed throughout the
Continent as a philosophical system finally and triumphantly
refuting the school of empiricism. They were also the
occasion of the parallel movement in Great Britain of Keid
and his followers — a movement less developed and less con
spicuous than was the reaction under Kant on the European
mainland.

The event has shown, however, that sensationalism was
scotched, not killed. In spite of Koyer-Collard, Maine-de-
Biran, Jouffroy, and Cousin, the grossest sensationalism has
reappeared in France through Auguste Comte.

In Britain the successors of Keid — Sir William Hamilton,
Mansel, and McCosh — have all been unsuccessful in exor
cising the sensational spirit; and though Mr. John Stuart
Mill (as almost a pure Lockian) may be regarded as an
instance of philosophical "survival," yet Hume lives again
in Huxley and in Lewes; and indeed (however they may
differ as to subordinate questions) Messrs. Spencer, Bain,
Mill, Comte, Huxley, and Lewes, unite in an essential and
fundamental agreement with the great sceptic of Scotland.

Thus, though fifty years ago the world of thought pro
nounced Hume for ever defeated by Kant, we find Hume
once more in possession of the field ; and even the extreme
sensationalism of Condillac is justified, nay demonstrated to
be inevitable truth, by Mr. Herbert Spencer. Indeed that
author may, in a certain sense, be deemed the legitimate
descendant and representative of Locke, as understood by
those who refuse to attribute to the term "reflexion," as
used by him, a meaning which would stultify him as to his
whole philosophical position.

An inquiry into the causes of this untoward resurrection
would be full of interest, but cannot, as too remote from the

424 LESSONS FEOM NATUEE. [CHAP. XIV.

matter in hand, be here pursued. The mere existence, how
ever, of such a revival would seem to demonstrate that the
Professor of Konigsburg did not dig deeply enough in his
attempted process of eradication.

But Mr. Spencer, whose philosophy may be taken as
Mr. spencer the most complete expression of modern views.

and Evolu- . L

tion. is far from being a mere reviver of Hume, of

Locke, or of any other philosopher. Indeed, he differs from
Locke in admitting, in a certain sense, " innate ideas," while
he combats Hume with vigour and efficiency, and may not
improbably quite repudiate the imputation of being a dis
ciple of the philosopher last named.

It is as the philosophical embodiment of modern physical
science that Mr. Spencer is pre-eminently distinguished.
Science has indeed made vast acquisitions since the time of
Hume, and the stored-up accumulation of its facts contains
materials calculated to affect powerfully the imagination of
mankind. Now Mr. Spencer's philosophy is replete with
conceptions and inferences derived from that accumulated
treasure.

It is by such scientific progress, by the indirect influences
of physical science on philosophy, th'at this development of
reactionary sensationalism must be explained. New issues
have been joined, and the point of view having been shifted,
controversies deemed closed have to be reconsidered. This
reconsideration has become requisite, not through want of
conclusiveness in the earlier replies to the argument as then
conducted, but through the fresh lights now let in at aper
tures in dividing walls which then seemed of unbreachable
solidity, and which give to old facts a quite new aspect.

The dispute as to our possession of ideas and conceptions
which no experience of any single life, however prolonged,
can explain — the existence that is of an a priori element in
our knowledge— may be considered to have ended in the
nineteenth century with the triumphant refutation of those
sensationalists who denied the existence of such an element.
This refutation Mr. Spencer not only fully accepts as

CHAP. XIV.] A POSTSCEIPT. 425

valid, but he actively co-operates in demonstrating the ab
surdity of the belief that the mental phenomena of any one
life, however prolonged, are sufficient to account for such con
ceptions as extension, causation, objectivity, and existence.

The opponents of sensism, however, must be prepared to
take small comfort from such acceptance and seeming aid,
for Mr. Spencer is really one of their most formidable
enemies; and he claims to have demonstrated by a com
bined system of a priori and a posteriori proof that sen
sation and all intellectual action are fundamentally one
and the same, and that (sense being primary) every idea
is made up of transformed sensations. This demonstration
is accomplished by means of the doctrine of evolution, which
has of late attained so wide a currency and such general
acceptance. According to this doctrine all the varied or
ganisms inhabiting this planet have been gradually pro
duced one from another by merely natural processes, and,
as Mr. Darwin would fain have us believe, mainly by the
action of "Natural Selection." In this way Mr. Spencer
conceives that what is a priori to the individual is but a
posteriori to the race, and he thus claims to have reconciled
the two schools of thought, namely, those who assert and
those who deny the derivation of all our ideas exclusively
from sensation and experience. As is manifest, however, he
gives the substantial victory entirely to the sensists, and
denies to all ideas any higher origin than mere incipient
sentiency. It is plain then that the old battle has to be
fought again on new ground, and no argument can be hence
forth admitted as valid until it has stood the test of examina
tion in the light of the theory of evolution.

The effect which this theory has had on philosophy is
small compared with that which may be yet to come.
Its most modern advocates, such as Dr. Bastian, are not
content with driving back "experience" to the lowest
forms of animal or even of vegetable life, but teach that
one physical process of change — redistribution of matter
and motion — results successively in chemical integration

426 LESSONS FROM NATUEE. [CHAP. XIV.

and aggregation, the formation of organisms, life, feeling,
thought, memory, love, and will. Even Professor Tyndall,
in spite of his opposition to Dr. Bastian, is fundamentally at
one with him, and, as we have seen, speaks of the genius of
Plato, Shakespeare, Newton, and Raffaele, as latent and
potentially existing in the fires of the Sun, and being the
ultimate outcome of an unconscious primeval mist.

It is not surprising then that all those who, for whatever
Evolution reason, are really hostile to the Christian revelation
rntuc™ris-by took especial comfort from this result and outcome
(which appeared to them to be the necessary out
come) of the theory of Evolution.

This is abundantly manifest in the writings of Strauss,
Vogt, Haeckel, and Biichner, and even in our own country
signs of a similar spirit in leading evolutionists have been
shown in no equivocal manner. We have indeed been ac
customed to hear again and again the assertion that men
of science differ from the devotees of theology, in that they
enter on their inquiries fequo animo, free from prejudice,*
and desirous only of truth. Believers have been warned,
usque ad nauseam, that a wish to believe vitiates all their ar
guments. But what weight can we attach to conclusions such
as those, e.g., of Professor Huxley, who tells us with regard to
the doctrine of Evolution that " the position of complete and
irreconcilable antagonism which, in his opinion, it occupies
to the Church, is ' one of its greatest merits in my eyes T " A
similar, though less striking, theological prejudice is also
exhibited by Mr. Darwin himself. He tells us himself, in
his ' Descent of Man,' that in his ' Origin of Species ' his first
object was " to show that species had not been separately
created ;" and he consoles himself for admitted error by the
reflection that " I have at least, as I hope, done good service
in aiding to overthrow the dogma of separate creations." f

* Professor Tyndall in his ' Fragments of Science,' p. 167, observes :
" They have but one desire — to know the truth. They have but one fear — to
believe a lie."

t I am indebted to Mr. Chuuncey Wright for calling my attention to this
remark, which had escaped my notice.

CHAP. XIV.] A POSTSCEIPT. 427

Now, inasmuch as revelation supposes the validity of and
addresses itself to human reason, it would of course p

tMfculOufU

be disproved did it contradict absolutely anything Hxheist0'
which human reason absolutely affirmed — such *eiTSs
dicta acting as our only tests. systems.

Let us then suppose a man who, by the exercise of his
reason, has arrived at that theistic belief and willing anticipa
tion of a revelation which is here maintained to be rational.

Looking abroad upon the world as he finds it to-day, he can
hardly hesitate as to the revelation into the claims of which
he is morally bound to inquire with reverent candour. This
revelation is that which the Christian Church alone affirms
itself to possess infallibly and to put before unbelievers for
their acceptance. If such a- man finds that the doctrines of
the Church contradict what his reason positively affirms, he
must, of course, reject it ; but he is bound to accept it if he
finds its teaching harmonize with his reason and with his
conscience. As a fact, the Christian revelation Christianity
asserts " Creation ;" and Mr. Darwin and Professor tton.r "
Huxley were right in thinking that to disprove " Creation "
was to disprove Christianity.

Our supposed inquirer is manifestly bound to carry on
such inquiry not only with a candid spirit, but with a desire
to find such asserted revelation to be true. He is so bound,
since no one who has arrived at a philosophic contemplation
of the Infinite Majesty and absolute holiness and beauty of
the God whose existence is made known to us by Nature, can
rationally do other than most earnestly desire a revealed
knowledge of Him, if haply such may be found.

It is thus that a moral element may plainly enter into the
acceptance or rejection of revelation. That it is congruous
it should do so is evident from what we see as to the natural
religion we gather from Nature. There, again, it has evi
dently not been the intention of the First Cause to make the
evidence of his existence so plain that its non-recognition
would be the mark of intellectual incapacity.

Conviction as to Theism is, as we see, not forced upon men,

428 LESSONS FEOM NATURE. [CHAP. XIV.

willing and unwilling, as is the conviction of the existence of
the sun at noonday. The natural revelation appeals to and
puts to probation the whole of man's nature ; it might there
fore be expected a priori that a revelation from the Author
of Nature would have a similar probationary action.

That inclination warps judgment is a trite remark. As
Mr. Lewes says : * «' The psychological law that we only see
what interests us, and only assimilate what is adapted to our
condition, causes the mind to select its evidence." Again,
speaking of a man who has been subjected to a special kind
of prejudice, he observes : f "In truth his mind has received
a deep impression ; a conception has been fixed there, and
his feelings keep it supplied with energy sufficient to bear
down any opposing conception." The same writer, again,
says | that he himself only hopes for converts to his own
system from those " who, by previous culture and native dis
position, have been prepared for a sympathetic attitude; these
are the conditions which determine the acceptance of new

truths Unless the attitude of mind be sympathetic,

there will be stubborn resistance to what otherwise would be
clearest evidence."

Professor Tyndall observes : § " The desire to establish or
avoid a certain result can so warp the mind as to destroy its
power of estimating facts. I have known men to work for
years under a fascination of this kind."

Again, Mr. Lecky remarks : || " Every moral disposition
brings with it an intellectual bias, which exercises a great
and often a controlling and decisive influence even upon the
most candid inquirer."

The doctrine of Creation then being a part of the Chris
tian revelation, and this doctrine being made in the present
day a special object of attack, an inquiry into its exact
meaning came to have a special interest.

* ' Problems of Life and Mind,' vol. i. p 467

t Op. cit. p. 461.

j Op. cit. vol. ii. p. 505.

§ ' Fragments of Science,' p. 47.

|| ' Morals,' vol. ii, p, 204.

CHAP. XIV.] A POSTSCRIPT. 429

Accordingly, in my book on the ' Genesis of Species ' I had
in view two main objects. My first was to show The Genesi8
that the Darwinian theory is untenable, and that ofSPecies>
" Natural Selection " is not the origin of species. My second
was to demonstrate that nothing even in Mr. Darwin's theory
(as put forth before the publication of his ' Descent of Man'),
and, a fortiori, nothing in Evolution generally, was necessarily
antagonistic to Christianity.

I did so by distinguishing between primary and derivative
creation, and by showing that the distinction, far from being
a novel subtlety of my own devising, had been discussed, and
the principles on which it reposed accepted, by distinguished
theologians centuries before Evolution was heard of.

It was, no doubt, a great surprise and disappointment to
Professor Huxley to find it clearly demonstrated AndProfes.
that his favourite doctrine of Evolution, far from sorHuxley-
being in " unmistakable antagonism " with Christianity, ac
tually harmonized with it, thus altogether losing what he
tells us he deemed to be " one of its greatest merits."

Accordingly he combated my arguments in a paper
which appeared in the ' Contemporary Review ' for November
1871. This attack he has since republished, and I will
therefore restate here my reply to it, first noticing the rea
sonings offered by my opponent, and afterwards saying some
words as to his mode of conducting the controversy.

As I. have said, my second object in my 'Genesis of
Species ' was to demonstrate that there is no necessary anta
gonism between the Christian revelation and evolution.

In meeting me on this ground (to discuss what seems na
turally to have interested the Professor more than anything
else in my book), he endeavours to create a prejudice against
my arguments, and to narrow my base, by representing me
as a mere advocate for specially Catholic doctrine.*

* At p. 454, Professor Huxley gives the words " Catholic theology " with
marks of quotation as if mine, though in fact they were not so. This typo
graphical error does not misrepresent my substantial meaning, but it none
the less tends to create a prejudice against my statements in the mind of the
public.

430 LESSONS FROM NATUEE. [CHAP. XIV.

I altogether decline to allow the issue to be thus limited.
I decline it because neither did I intend such limitation, nor
do any words of mine justify such a construction of my pur
pose. I took up, and I take up, only the ground common to
me and to all who hold the Christian religion as expressed
in the Apostles' Creed, or who maintain the inspiration of
"Scripture. The better to make sure of my position I made
use of an extreme case, knowing that if I could maintain
even that, then all within that extreme term could not cer
tainly be questioned. Purposely then I set out to show, and
I did show, that the strictest Ultramontane Catholics are
perfectly free to hold the doctrine of evolution, thereby
making evident that with regard to Christians in general
there could not be a doubt as to their freedom in the matter.
For this end I expressly selected just such persons as would
commonly be supposed not to be those from whom (in Pro
fessor Huxley's words) " modern science was likely to receive
a warm welcome," and amongst others the Spanish Jesuit,
Father Suarez, precisely because, as Professor Huxley says,
" the popular repute of that learned theologian and subtle
casuist was not such as to make his works a likely place of
refuge for liberality of thought."

My critic shows how he misapprehends my aim and inten-
A misappre- tion when he speaks of " Mr. Mivart citing Father
Suarez as his chief witness in favour of the scientific
freedom enjoyed by Catholics." Had he been such a witness
I should not for one moment have thought of citing him ; it
was precisely as one of the most rigid theologians, and of
" unspotted orthodoxy" (as Professor Huxley justly remarks),
that I called him into court, where he testifies so completely
to my satisfaction.

The success of my mode of procedure is, I confess, gratify-
His astonish- ™g to me. Not only was my argument " most in
teresting " to Professor Huxley, but he tells us his
" astonishment reached its climax," and that he shall " look
anxiously " for additional references " in the third edition of
the ' Genesis of Species.' " Fortunately I have no need to

CHAP. XIV.] A POSTSCEIPT. 431

keep the Professor waiting, but shall shortly proceed to give
him these additional references at once.

Let it be borne in mind that in view of the popular con
ceptions current in England on the subject, my argument
was that if even those who receive the teaching of St. Thomas
Aquinas and the Jesuits, and who look to Koine for doctrinal
decisions — if even those are free to accept evolution, then,
a fortiori, other Christians, supposed to be comparatively
untrammelled, need not hesitate as to the harmony and
compatibility of Christianity and evolution.

Of all I said in my book on the subject I have nothing to
retract ; but I repeat yet more confidently than before that
" evolution is without doubt consistent with the strictest
Christian theology ;" that " it is notorious that many distin
guished Christian thinkers have accepted, and do accept, both
ideas ;" that " Christian thinkers are perfectly free to accept
the general evolution theory ;" and, finally, that " it is evident
that ancient and most venerable theological authorities dis
tinctly assert derivative creation, and thus their teachings
harmonize with all that modern science can possibly require."

The point I had to prove was, that the assertion of the
evolution of new species (whether by Mr. Darwin's " natural
selection" or according to my hypothesis) was in no oppo
sition to the Christian faith as to the creation of the organic
world.

In order to prove this I had to consider the meaning of the
word " creation," and I found that it might be taken in three
senses, with only two of which, however, we had to do.

The first of these was direct creation out of nothing, of
both matter and form conjoined —absolute creation such as
must have taken place when the earliest definite kind of
matter appeared.

The second was derivative or potential creation : the crea
tion by God of forms not as existing, but in potentia, to be
subsequently evolved into actual existence by the due con
currence and agency of the various powers of nature.

Searching for information on the subject, I found to my

432 LESSONS FEOM NATUKE. [CHAP. XIV.

surprise that trie regular teaching of theology adopted this
view, which was maintained by a complete consensus of
authorities. Of these I purposely chose but a few telling
ones as types; and, amongst the rest, Suarez, who, without
any doubt, and as I shall proceed to demonstrate more at
length, is a thorough -going supporter of it.

Professor Huxley has quite misapprehended* my meaning,
Another hence the disappointment he speaks of. What he
tension. did not find, I never said was to be found. What
he actually did find is what everybody knew before, but is a
matter totally different from and utterly irrelevant to the
point I maintained.

My critic fails to distinguish between the question as to
the nature of creation as an act, and that concerning the fact
of creation.

Now, what my intention was is plainly shown by the words
I used. I said : " Considering how extremely recent are
these biological speculations, it might hardly be expected a
priori that writers of earlier ages should have given ex
pression to doctrines harmonizing in any degree with such
very modern views ; nevertheless, this is certainly the case."
And so it is.

Of Suarez I said, he opposes those who maintain the
absolute creation of substantial forms, and he distinctly
asserts derivative (potential) creation. And this is true.

Although Professor Huxley has conveyed the impression
that I adduced Suarez as a witness to evolution, I cannot
think he intended so to do. He surely could not have
imagined me so absurd as to maintain that ancient writers
held that modern view ; to attribute to them the holding of

* Not only this, but he has even misrepresented my words. He says
(p. 445): "According to Mr. Mivart, tiie greatest and most orthodox au
thorities upon matters of Catholic doctrine agree in distinctly asserting
' derivative creation ' or ' evolution ' " — as if " derivative creation " and
" evolution " were the same thing. Having thus made me enunciate what I
never thought of, consequences are deduced which, of course, are not of my
deducing. Derivative or potential creation such authorities do assert : evolu
tion of species, however, was no more thought of in their days than the
electric telegraph.

CHAP. XIV.] A POSTSCRIPT. 4,33

such a conception would be to represent them as nothing less
than inspired. For certainly no notion of the kind could
have been present, even in a dream, to the minds of such
thinkers. In their eyes (as in the eyes of most till within
the last century) scientific facts must have seemed to tell in
the opposite direction.

All I maintained, and all that I thought any one could have
supposed me to maintain, was that these writers ,

_ . . . , An explana-

asserted abstract principles such as can perfectly tlon-
harmonize with the requirements of modern science, and have,
as it were, provided for the reception of its most advanced
speculations.

My words were: "The possibility of such phenomena,
though ly no means actually foreseen, has yet been fully
provided for in the old philosophy centuries before Darwin."
And that this is the case can be proved to demonstration.
The really important matter, however, is not what were my
expressions, but what is the fact as to the compatibility of
evolution with the strictest orthodoxy ? We shall see how,
by Professor Huxley's very fortunate misapprehension of my
meaning, this truth will be brought out more clearly than
before.

Far from maintaining that Suarez was a teacher of
development or evolution, what I quoted him for was
this : —

I. As an opponent of the theory of a perpetual, direct
creation of organisms (which many held, and still hold).

II. To show that the principles of scholastic theology
are such as not to exclude the theory of development, but,
on the contrary, to favour it, even before it was known or
broached.

What Professor Huxley quotes in his article amply
confirms my position. For if there are innumerable sub
stantial forms in the potentia of matter, which are evolved
according to the proximate capacity of matter to receive
such forms, it is evident that if the organization of matter,
through chemical or other causes, progresses by the ever-

2 P

434 LESSONS FKOM NATUEE. [CHAP. XIV.

increasingly complex reactions between bodies and their en
vironment, then it necessarily follows that new and higher
substantial forms may be evolved, and consequently new
and higher forms of life.

Such a principle, firmly established against opponents,
becomes applicable to the evolution of new species, as soon
as ever physical science shows good reason to regard the
origin of species not as simultaneous but successive.

It may be objected that Suarez, in the passage referred to,
only adverts to new individuals of known kinds in

Suarez. IT i> T» j? TT 1

the ordinary course 01 nature, rrotessor Huxley
says : " How the substantial forms of animals and plants
primarily originated, is a question to which, so far as I am
able to discover, he does not so much as allude in his
' Metaphysical Disputations.' " Most certainly, in his day, no
one entertained the modern notion as to the origin of species ;
and it was hardly to be expected that Suarez should say
anything directly in point. That he should establish the
needful principle was all we could reasonably demand or
expect.

Nevertheless, in a remarkable manner, even Father Suarez
does refer to the origination of certain kinds of animals, and
admits their actual evolution by natural causes. These are
partly exceptional forms such as hybrids, and partly such
as were believed to originate by cosmical influences direct
from the inorganic world, or through the agency of putre
faction.

In lib. ii. de Opere Sex Dierum, c. x. n. 12, speaking of
such animals as the mule, leopard, lynx, &c., after stating the
opinion that individuals of their kinds must have been created
from the beginning, he says, "nihilominus contrarium censeo
esse probabilius ;" and he gives his reason, " quia hujusmodi
species aninaalium sufficienter continebantur potentialiter in
illis individuis diversarum specierum ex quorum conmixtione
generantur ; et ideo non fuit necessarium aliqua eorum in-
dividua ab auctore natura immediate produci." This in
principle is absolutely all that can be required, for it reduces

CHAP. XIV.] A POSTSCRTPT. 435

the matter simply to a question of fact. He asserts the
principle that those kinds of animals which are potentially
contained in nature need not be supposed to be directly and
immediately created. In determining what kinds were or
were not so contained, he followed the scientific notions of
his time as he understood them. He would have written
according to the exigencies of science now.

But this matter is really unmistakable. For so far was
Suarez from teaching that all life requires direct creative
action, that he speaks of certain creatures, " quae per in-
fluentiam coelorum ex putrida materia terrae aut aqua
generari solent." (Ibid. n. 10.)

It is also interesting to see that (in n. 11) he positively
asserts the improbability and incredibility that certain kinds
of animals now living were actually created at first at all :
" Alias dicendum esset in omnibus speciebus quantumvis im-
perfectis aliqua individua in principio fuisse facta quia non
est major ratio de quibusdam quani de aliis. Consequens est
incredibile" He then instances certain insects, but as far as
the principle of evolution in itself is concerned he might as
well have selected crocodiles.

Moreover, with respect to certain vegetable productions,
he says (ib. c. vi. n. 1), " an vero hujusmodi herbse sint factse
hoc die tantum in potentia vel etiam in actu magis dubitari
potest." Finally, even with regard to the production of
animals altogether, he tells us that it was not a real creation
(c. x. n. 3), "sed ex prsejacente materia modo tamen proprio
auctoris naturaB." It is strange that Professor Huxley should
have overlooked these passages which so directly contradict
his assertions.

Nevertheless these passages are not, let it be recollected,
adduced to show that Suarez held the doctrine of evolution,
or that he maintained as a fact that species were evolved,
except in peculiar cases, or that he took St. Augustin's view
as to the fact of creation; but to demonstrate that he di*-
tinctly admits principles compatible with evolution, and that
even where he asserts direct and immediate divine action,

2 F 2

436 LESSONS FEOM NATURE. [CHAP. XIV.

yet that even there the exceptions he admits bring out still
more clearly how completely I was justified in adducing him
as a witness to the compatibility of evolution \\ith the
principles of the scholastic philosophy.

So much then for the teaching of Suarez as to the nature
of the creative act and the admission of the evolution of even
certain new organic forms by natural causes.

Let us turn now to a much more important subject.

Besides and in addition to this view it is a most remark-

Thefactof able circumstance that ideas should have been

expressed of a distinctly evolutionary character by

the highest theological authority, even as regards the very

fact of creation, as an historical event.

Few things seem to me more striking than that such an
anticipation, as it were, should have been enunciated by one
of the greatest teachers the Church has ever known, a doctor
the authority of whose writings is not surpassed by that of
any of the Fathers — I mean St. Augustin. As I said in my
book, " it must be borne in mind that no one had disputed
the generally received belief as to the small age of the world,
or of the kinds of animals and plants inhabiting it." Never
theless, as I have shown, the teaching of St. Augustin was
distinct with respect to the potential creation of animals and
plants. That great source of Western theology held that the
whole creation spoken of in Genesis took place in one instant;
that all created things were created at once, " potentialiter
atque causaliter" so that it accords with his teaching if we
believe in the gradual development of species, the slow evolu
tion, " per temporum moras," into actual existence of what
God created potentially in the beginning.

Now the greatest representatives of Catholic theology are
unquestionably St. Augustin and St. Thomas Aquinas, and this
being, as almost every one knows, the case, it is inconceivable
how a teacher like Professor Huxley could write as he has
done regarding the consequences of a divergence of Suarez
from their expressed opinions.

If, as Suarez suggests, St. Thomas followed St. Augustin

CHAP. XIV.] A POSTSCEIPT. 437

rather through deference than from identity of opinion, it
would only bring out more strongly the paramount authority
of the latter. But in fact Snarez was here mistaken, for we
have St. Thomas's own words as to the matter, where, speak
ing of St. Augustin's view, he tells us, " et hsec opinio plus
mihi placet " (2 Sent. Dist. 12, quaest. 1, a. 2).

Here it may be well to explain (as Professor Huxley seems
quite to have misapprehended me), that when I Another mis
spoke of the " wide reception " of Suarez, and of sion.
his being " widely venerated " and of " unquestioned ortho
doxy," I never thought of placing him on a level with St.
Thomas and St. Augustin. Moreover, " wide veneration "
and " orthodoxy " by no means imply authority in the sense
of binding consciences. Many Catholic teachers altogether
reject the teaching of Suarez on certain points, though
they none the less consider him an authority to be respect
fully consulted, indeed, but by no means to be necessarily
followed.

Multitudes of teachers, all agreeing in matters of faith, yet
belong to very different theological schools, and the idea
that any one of them can bind the others is simply laughable
to those who know anything of the matter.

Professor Huxley seems to imagine in showing that Suarez
(like most teachers of his day, Catholic or not, e.g. Tycho
Brahe) adopts an extreme literalism of Scripture interpreta
tion, he has made a notable discovery. But (as before re
marked) I referred to Suarez for principles of interpretation
with regard to derivative creation, and his views as to the
historical facts of Genesis are quite beside the question.
St. Thomas explains the diversity of opinion among theo
logians in a way which exactly meets my purpose : " Quoad
mundi principium, aliquid est quod ad substantiam fldei per-
tinet scilicet mundum incepisse creatum et hoc omnes sancti
concorditer dicunt. Quo autem modo et ordine factus sit
non pertinet ad fidem nisi per accidens, in quantum in Scrip-
tura traditur, cujus veritatem diversa expositione sancti sal-
vantes diversa tradiderunt " (2 Sent. Dist. 12, q. 1, a. 2).

438 LESSONS FROM NATURE. [CHAP. XIV.

My critic also appears to think that because one side of a

want of ac- question is perfectly orthodox, that its contradictory

wHhnthe-°e cannot also be so. If he knew the A B C of Catholic

doctrine, he would know that in open questions it is

perfectly allowable to maintain either side.

Professor Huxley says, that Suarez in this question (as in
other matters) is in opposition to St. Augustin. He is so ;
but other theologians of equal weight severely took him to
task for his expressions on this subject, as I shall proceed to
show, and there is not the slightest difficulty in bringing
forward many theological authorities, both before and since
the time of Suarez, who approve or positively affirm the
position which St. Augustin took. Therefore, even if I had
made the mistake which Professor Huxley supposes I had, it
would not be of the slightest moment, and my thesis could
repose as securely on the support of other theologians.

Thus I may mention St. Thomas, St. Bona venture, Albertus

Magnus, Denis the Carthusian (1470), Cardinal

Cajetan (1530), Melchior Canus (1560), Bannes

(1580), Vincentius Contenson (1670), Macedo and Cardinal

Noris (1673), Touti (1714), Serry (1720), Berti (1740), and

others down to the present day.

St. Bonaventure calls St. Augustin's exposition, " Multum
rationabilis et valde subtilis," and speaks of his method as a
" via philosophica ;" nay, he calls the contrary opinion
" minus rationabilis quam alia " (Librum secund. Sent. Dist.
12, quaest. 2, art. 1 conclusio).

St. Thomas, as I have shown, supports and approves St.
Augustin, but he even admits ('Summ.' par. i. quasst. 73,
art. 1, ad. 3) the possibility of new species himself. He
says : " Species etiam novae si quae apparent, praextiterunt
in quibusdam activis virtutibus sicut et animalia ex putre-
factione generata producuntur ex virtutibus stellarum et
elementorum quas a principio acceperunt, etiam si novae
species talium animalium producuntur."

Professor Huxley will hardly dispute the weight and sig-
nih'eance, in this controversy, of the distinct adoption of St.

CHAP. XIV.] A POSTSCRIPT. 439

Augustin's view by an eminent Koman Cardinal of the latter
part of the seventeenth century.

Yet Cardinal Noris (' Vindiciso Augus.' c. iv. § ix. ; see
Migne's ' Patrologia Cursus Completus,' torn, xlvii. p. 719)
speaks in the following uncompromising words : —

"Hie etiam recentiorum querelse, imo censurse, quibus insignem
Sancti Doctoris interpretationem in cap. i. Geneseos excipiunt, refel-

lendse stint Augustinus, quod videbat sex priores dies queis

Moyses mundum a Deo creatum scribit, si litteraliter accipiantur,
gravissimis difficultatibus subjici, quas ipsemet in libris de Genesi ad
litteram proponit, subtilem prorsus ac se difjnam sententiam ex-
cogitavit, nempe dies illos intelligendos esse mystice, juxta cogni-
tionem angelicam de rebus in Deo, et in proprio genere, et juxta
ordinem rerum simul a Deo creatarum, dierum etiam ordinem in

angelorum mente designavit Ex nostris scriptoribus Magister

Emmanuel Cerda Lusitanus, publicus in Academia Conimbricensi
theologise professor, in suis Quodlibetis theologicis, acerrime contra
recentiorum impetum Magni Parentis sententiam propugnat, eorumque
et in censurando audaciam, et in impugnando debilitatem ostendit;
idem quoque prsestitit Carolus Moreau, noster Bituricensis in vindiciis
pacificis."

Speaking of Cornelius a Lapide, he adds : —

" Verum Augustino consentit Albertus, qui ob multiplicem ac mira-
bilem litteraturam Magni cognomento insignitus fuit, his plane verbis ;
sine preejudicio sententise melioris videtur Augustino consentiendum.
Pars I. Summse q. 12, de quatuor cosevis. Addit Sanctus Thomas
proxime laudatus : Hsec opinio (Augustlni) PLUS MIHI PLACET. Itane
Cornell sententia ilia, quam Albertus Magnus ac Sanctus Thomas,
Scholasticorum lumina ac columnse, probant et sequuntur, hac setate
erronea evasit? Qusenam illam Synodi, qui Konaani prsesules, quse
doctorum academise proscripsere ? An quia tibi tuisque displicet
erronea ccnsenda est ? . . . . Nse Sanctus Thomas, Albertus Magnus,
Sanctus Bonaventura, et ^Egidius Eomanus inter accuratiores theologos
minime recensendi sxint? Erunt ne illi de ultima theologorum plebe,
Senatores vero Suarez, Molina et Martinon ? Imo omnium nobilissimi
illi sunt quibus et Suarez et Molina assurgant, Martinon vero nee
eadem cum illis die nominetur."

Berti, who was Assistant-General of his order, who pub
lished his book at Rome, and belongs to a period more
than half a century later than Cardinal Noris, proposes

440 LESSONS FROM NATUEE. [CHAP. XIV.

the following thesis (<De Theologicis Disciplinis,' lib. xi.
c. ii.) : —

"Propositio I. Audacise potius et fidentise vitio, quam doctrine
laude debent notari, qui maledico dente carpunt Augustianam de
simultcmea creatione sententiam.

"Propositio II. Augustini de simultanea creatione sententia non
solum ab omni animadversione immunis est, verum etiam probubilis et
prope certa."

And in n. 9 he says :—

" Quare in distributione operum Dei omnia quidem spectant ad illos
dies invisibiles in quibus creavit omnia simul, videlicet ad diversas
cognitiones angelorum ; sed plura, hoc est, quae primum in rationibus
seminalibus, deinde visibiliter facta stint, si accipiantur secundum
priorem conditioner^ pertinent ad dies intelligibiles, et unico momento
fuerunt et ipsa producta; si vero inspiciantur, ut in propria forma
aspectabili constitute, istorum creatio perficitur in tempore, et post sex
illos dies invisibiles; spectatque ad dies naturales in quibus Deus
operatur quotidie, quidquid ex illis tanquam involucris primordialibus
in tempore evolvitur. Sed legite S. Patrem Lit. v. de Gen. ad lit."

But now, coming down to our own day, the same com
plete refutation of Professor Huxley's position is most easily
eifected.

Father Pianciani, a Jesuit, was president of the College of
Philosophy in the Eoman University. His work, < Cosmo-
gonia Naturale comparata al Genesi,' was published at .Rome
in 1862, at the press of the ' Civilta Cattolica.' Professor
Huxley will hardly dispute as to his orthodoxy. This author,
in his 'Historia Creationis Mosaic® ' (published at Naples
as long ago as 1851), p. 29, shows that the whole of the first
chapter of Genesis must be read as a most sublime and
magnificent poetical description. Concerning St. Augustin's
special view, he tells us (p. 15), " Ejus doctrina ad hsec capita
revocatur :" —

"1° Omnia simul a Deo fuisse producta: 2° Cum ipsa ita disponi
queant, ut infimum gradum materia elernentaris, supremum puri
spiritus occupent, interjectos et medios turn mixta, seu chimica com-
posita, turn corpora physice composita, ut saxa, turn pnecipue corpora
organica. Hinc quse ad infimum, supremumque gradum spectant et si
qu» alia sunt, qiue naturre viribus neque nunc producuntur, plene et

CHAP. XIV.] A POSTSCRIPT. 441

perfecte tune fuisse producta; quse vero interjectis gradibus con-
tinentur et nunc naturae viribus producuntur, virtute duntaxat et
seminaliter seu causaliter, tune Dei imperio extitisse. Augustini
opinio, semper ab errore immimis habit a pluribus placuit theologis quos
inter Alberto Magno. S. Thomas in Summa, p. 1, q. 74, a. 2— earn
reveretur, et nee ipsi nee vulgari doctrinse prsejudicandum censet."
—pp. 15, 16.

No liberal-minded man can see with anything but regret
how — though no intelligent man can fail to understand why
—Professor Huxley so eagerly endeavours to restrict within
the narrowest limits the faith of the greater part of the Chris
tian world, saying, " I, for one, shall feel bound to believe
that the doctrines of Suarez are the only ones which are
sanctioned by authority," &c.

But the attempt to represent that such literalism is binding
on Catholics is simply preposterous. There is no need for the
present Cardinal Archbishop of Westminster to give any such
permission as Professor Huxley speaks of (as to the six days),
because such freedom existed long before His Eminence
occupied the see, and was accepted by his predecessor, Car
dinal Wiseman. It would be restriction, not freedom, which
could alone require him to make any declaration on the
subject.

We might really suppose that at this day it would be super
fluous to assert that Catholics are free and unembarrassed in
their geology and palaeontology. But that I may not seem
to shirk a point on which the Professor lays such stress,
namely, the " six days " of creation, I will say a few words as
to the position of Catholics with regard to this matter.

Now, authorities showing the freedom of Catholics in this
respect are so numerous, that it is only difficult to choose.
In the first place we have St. Augustin and his many fol
lowers, also St. Hildegard, Bertier, Berchetti, Ghici, Eobe-
bacher, and Bossuet. Cardinal Cajetan says distinctly that
the six days were not real days, but meant to indicate order.
And I may cite also Cardinal Gousset, ' Theol. Dogmatique,'
t. i. p. 103, seq. ; Frayssinous, ' Defense du Christianisme,'
conf. ' Mo'ise, Historien des Temps primitlfs ;' Perrone, S. J.,

442 LESSONS FKOM NATUEE. [CHAP. XIV.

' Prelect. Theol.,' vol. i. p. 678 (edit. Migne, 1842). But it
is really needless to speak of writers during the last few
years, for books are daily printed at Eome with the permis
sion of authority such as Perrone, just mentioned, also Ton-
giorgi and Pianciani (' Cosmogonia Naturale,' p. 24), before
referred to. In English we have Cardinal Wiseman's « Science
and Kevealed Eeligion,' Lectures v. and vi., and only last
year a similar work was published in London by the Kev.
Dr. Gerald Molloy.

So much for the question of the six days. But before
An utter leaving the subject of Christianity and evolution,
there is yet one more point which it may be well
to notice. With respect to the hypothesis I advanced that
Adam's body might have been formed by evolution like those
of other animals, the soul being subsequently infused. Pro
fessor Huxley remarks : —

" If Suarez is any authority, it is not Catholic doctrine. ' Nulla est
in homine forma educta de potentia materise ' is a dictum which is
absolutely inconsistent with the doctrine of the natural evolution of
any vital manifestation of the human body. Moreover, if man existed
as an animal before he was provided with a rational soul, he must, in
accordance with the elementary requirements of the philosophy in
which Mr. Mivart delights, have possessed a distinct sensitive and
vegetative soul or souls. Hence, when the ' breath of life' was breathed
into the man-like animal's nostrils, he must have already been a living
and feeling creature. But Suarez particularly discusses this point,
and not only rejects Mr. Mivart's view, but ' adopts language of very
theological strength regarding it.' "

Professor Huxley then quotes from Suarez a passage end
ing " ille enim spiritus, quern Deus spiravit, anima rationalis

fuit, et PER EAMDEM FACTUS EST HOMO VIVENS, ET CONSE-

QUENTER, ETIAM SENTIENS," and a conciliar decree con-
demning the assertion of the existence of two souls in man.

It is surely not less prudent than it is just to refrain from
speaking authoritatively of that which we have not studied
and do not comprehend. The fact is that Professor Huxley
has completely misapprehended the significance of the pas
sages he quotes. No wonder if reasoning perfectly lucid

CHAP. XIV.] A POSTSCKIPT. 443

to those who have the key appears a mere " darkening of
counsel " to those who have not mastered the elements of the
systems they criticise.

To say that Suarez " rejects Mr. Mivart's view " is absurd,
because no such view could by any possibility have been
present to the mind of any one of his day. To say that any
thing in the passage quoted is, even in the faintest degree,
inconsistent with that view, is an utter mistake. This is
plain, from the doctrine as to the infusion of every soul into
every infant, which was generally received at the period
when Suarez wrote.

This doctrine was that the human foetus is at first animated
by a vegetative soul, then by a sentient soul, and only after
wards, at some period before birth, with a rational soul. Not
that two souls ever coexist, for the appearance of one coin
cides with the disappearance of its predecessor — the sentient
soul including in it all the powers of the vegetative soul, and
the rational soul all those of the two others. The doctrine
of distinct souls, which Professor Huxley attributes to me as
a fatal consequence of my hypothesis, is simply the doctrine
of St. Thomas himself. He says (qusest. Ixxvi. art. 3, ad. 3) :
" Dicendum quod prius embryo habet animam quse est sensi-
tiva tantum, qua ablata advenit perfectior anima quse est
simul sensitiva et intellectiva ut infra plenius ostendetur."
Also (qusBst. cxviii. art. 2, ad. 2) : " Dicendum est quod
anima preeexistit in embryone, a principio quidem nutritiva,
postmodum autem sensitiva et tandem intellectiva."

He then answers the objection that we should thus have
three souls superposed, which, he says, is false because —

" Nulla forma substantial accipit majus aut minus, sed superadditio
majoris perfectionis facit aliam speciem sicut additio unitatis facit
aliam speciem in numero. . . . Ideo dicendum quod cum generatio
unius sit corruptio alterius, necesse est dicere quod tarn in homine
quam in animalibus aliis, quando perfectior forma advenit fit corruptio
prioris, ita tamen quod sequens forma habet quidquid habebat prima et
adhuc amplius. ... Sic igitur dicendum quod anima intellectiva
creatur a Deo in fine generationis humanfe quae simul est et sensitiva
et nutritiva corruptio formis prseexistentibus."

444 LESSONS FKOM NATUEE. [CHAP. XIV.

Now I am not saying anything about the truth of this
doctrine, but only that it perfectly harmonizes with the hypo
thesis thrown out ; while that it was the doctrine generally
held in Suarez's day should be known to every one who writes
upon such a subject at all. This agreement between the
doctrine and the hypothesis will readily be apprehended, for
if Adam was formed in the way of which I suggested the
possibility, he would, till the infusion of the rational soul,
be only animal vivens et sentiens, and not "homo" at all.
But when the rational soul was infused, he thereby, as Suarez
justly says, " factus est homo vivens, et consequenter, etiam
sentiens."

The dictum, " Nulla est in homine forma educta de
potentia materiaa," is nothing to the point, because I never
supposed that the " forma rationalis " was in potentia material,
but only the " forma sentiens," which would disappear and
become non-existent as soon as the " animal," by the infused
rationality, becomes " homo." Thus, so far from being incon
sistent with my hypothesis, it supports it; for the dictum
must have been applied by Suarez to every child, the " forma
sentiens " of which he must have allowed to be " educta de
potentia material," although the "forma rationalis " in his
doctrine, as in my hypothesis, is directly created by God,
and is in no way " educta de potentia materiaB." Professor
Huxley has read Suarez ad hoc, and evidently without the
guidance of any one familiar with that author, or with
his philosophy, and the natural consequence of writing
on such a subject under such circumstances follows of
course.

I think that it must now be plain to all readers, from the
passages referred to, that there is perfect freedom for even the
very strictest Christians, not only as regards the question of the
six days, but also with respect to the full doctrine of Evolution.

Professor Huxley, indeed, must know well that, in addition

soivituram- to tlie authority of approved writers of ancient and

modern times, there is a living authority in the

Church. That authority, moreover, is ready at any moment

CHAP. XIV.] A POSTSCEIPT. 445

to condemn heresy in the public expressions of any of her
children, and certain to detect it ; the question as to such views
as evolution being tenable solvitur ambulando. The Professor
congratulates himself prematurely on the " spontaneous retreat
of the enemy from nine-tenths of the territory which lie
occupied ten years ago." Not one step backwards has
been taken by the enemy Professor Huxley seems to detest
above all. In proof of this I can refer to the ' Eambler '
of March 1860, wherein a position was at once taken up,
which is substantially identical with that which I maintain
now.

Christians owe a debt of gratitude to Professor Huxley for
calling forth more clearly the certainty that their Christianlty
religion has nothing to fear from the doctrine of andReason:
evolution. It is, however, Catholic Christians who are pre
eminently beholden to him for occasioning a fresh demon
stration of the wonderful way in which their greatest teachers
of bygone centuries, though imbued with the notions and
possessing only the rudimentary physical knowledge of their
days, have yet been led to emit fruitful principles by which
the Church is prepared to assimilate and harmonize even the
most advanced teachings of physical science.

Professor Huxley indulges in rhetorical declamation as to
a " blind acceptance of authority ;" but such acceptance is
as much repudiated by me as by Professor Huxley. The
Church, in addressing unbelievers, appeals to " reason " and
" conscience " alone for the establishment of that Theistic
foundation on which she reposes, and no acceptance of
authority can be called " blind " which results from a clear
perception both of its rational foundation and of the harmony
of its dogmas and precepts with those highest faculties of our
nature, reason and conscience.

I confess myself weary of these tedious declamations as to
the incompatibility of science with Christianity on the one
side, as also of timid deprecations on the other. The true
position of these two powers justifies neither such hopes nor
such fears; for, in truth, no possible development of physical

446 LESSONS FROM NATURE. [CHAP. XTV.

science (and as to Biology I claim to speak with some slight
knowledge) can conflict with Christian dogma, and there
fore every attempt to attack from that basis is necessarily
futile.

On the other hand, so far from the Christian religion tend
ing to cramp or fetter intellectual development, it is notorious
that some of the profoundest thinkers of recent as of more
ancient times have been believers in Christianity, and I
am convinced that every man who rejects that belief is
ipso facto condemned not only to a moral, but also, and
as inevitably, to an intellectual inferiority as compared
with what he might attain did he accept that system
in its fulness. The Christian creed has long been before
the world. I would invite Professor Huxley to formulate
his system in distinct propositions, that it also may be tested
by our supreme and ultimate standards — "reason" and
" conscience."

It remains now but to say, in conclusion, a few words
Mode of con- respecting the mode in which Professor Huxley has

'ersy- thought proper to conduct this controversy.

I have already adverted (1) to the unfairness of reproach
ing me with an ethical error which I was so far from falling
into that it was specially pointed out by the Quarterly
Reviewer, whom he well knew to be none other than myself.

(2) To his misrepresentation of my words (as p. 445), in
that he has made me appear to declare that the theologians
referred to asserted " evolution," which he makes synony
mous \\itb " derivative creation."

(3) To his positive misquotation, words being placed be
tween inverted commas as if mine, though I never wrote or
published them.

The remarkable circumstance however is, that all these
three errors, though I called attention to them in my reply,
are precisely reproduced in Professor Huxley's volume, en
titled « Critiques and Addresses.' The fact of such republi-
cation is the one adverted to in the opening sentence of
this chapter, as determining the publication of this Post-

CHAP. XIV.] A POSTSCRIPT. 447

script. In that republication Professor Huxley, disregard
ing my exposure of his misrepresentations as to my
arguments, and his misquotation even of my very words,
attempts adroitly to shift the issue, and to represent that I
have maintained that which I never said, which was never
present to my mind, and which is manifestly absurd. Most
willingly do /leave the " issue alone to the judgment of the
public," taking the liberty on my part however Resuoanent
to state once more what is the true point at issue. °
I had maintained, and do maintain, that " ancient and most
venerable theological authorities distinctly assert derivative
creation, and thus their teachings harmonize with all that
modern science can possibly require." In reply to this Pro
fessor Huxley has shown, what no one dreamed of denying,
that Suarez rejected St. Augustin's view as to the fact of
creation ; but in the first place that does not even tend to
disprove what I alleged, namely, that ancient and most
venerable authorities did assert derivative creation ; nor does
it render the testimony of Suarez himself one bit less valuable
as to the validity of the principles on which the doctrine of
derivative creation reposes, principles explicitly stated by
himself. On the contrary, his testimony in this respect is
all the more valuable as such principles could not have been
laid down to serve any special theory of his own which he
desired to maintain.

The " ignorantia denchi" of Professor Huxley's reply was
so obvious that it is difficult indeed to credit one so ready
witted, with an honest blindness to its defects. The result of
the issue which I raised, and Professor Huxley accepted, is
so palpable, that I may well cite his own words addressed by
him * to Professor Owen in another controversy : —

"The question has thus become one of personal veracity. For
myself I will accept no other issue than this, grave as it is, to the
present controversy."

'Man's Place in Nature,' p. 118.

448 LESSONS FEOM NATURE. [CHAP. XIV.

There are yet other words written by him * which may
not inaptly be also here quoted : —

" If a man elect to become a judge of these grave questions ; still
more, if he assume the responsibility of attaching praise or blame to
his fellow-men for the conclusions at which they arrive touching them,
he will commit a sin more grievous than most breaches of the Deca
logue, unless he avoid a lazy reliance upon the information that is
gathered by prejudice and filtered through passion, unless he go back
to the prime sources of knowledge— the facts of Nature, and the
thoughts of those wise men who for generations past have been her
best interpreters."

Leaving, however, the heat and turmoil of mere personal
A retrospect disputes and literary controversies of our own dav,

and conclu- •,....

sion. let us, m imagination, turn into the cool and

peaceful shade of the old Cathedral of San Stefano at Pavia
where repose the ashes of the once fervid African, the
large-souled Bishop of Hippo. As we stand in contempla
tion before that venerable shrine, it seems to speak to us
with silent but persuasive eloquence of the Church's unity,
and of that continuity by which it responds in time to the
eternal unchangeableness of its Author. Venerated now, as
in early and long past ages, it is nevertheless with the pro
fuse carving of the later or mediaeval period that that
shrine is decorated ; just as the great thoughts of the soul,
the remnants of whose earthly tabernacle it shelters, were
accepted, revered, and set forth in fresh colours to the medi
aeval world by his great follower St. Thomas.

In the presence of those justly-revered relics, can any
thoughtful mind fail to be struck with awe as he ponders on
the pregnant fact that by the agency of such minds as those
of St. Augustin and St. Thomas the Church should have
unconsciously provided for the reception of modern theories
by the emission of fruitful principles and far-reaching defi
nitions, centuries before such theories were promulgated,
and when views directly contradicting them were held uni
versally, and even by some of those very men themselves

Fortnightly Review ' for November 1874, p. 580.

CHAP. XIV.] A POSTSCRIPT. 449

who laid down the principles and definitions referred to ?
Circumstances so remarkable, such undesigned coincidences
which, as facts, cannot be denied, must be allowed to have
been " preordained " by all those who, being Theists, assert
that a " purpose " runs through the whole process of evolu
tion. Such Theists must admit that, however arising or with
whatever end, a prescience has watched over the Church's
definitions, and that she has been so guided in her teaching
as to be able to harmonize and assimilate with her doctrines
the most modern theories of physical science.

2 G

INDEX,

Abdomen of wasp, 369
Absolute scepticism, 8, 23
Abstinence from marriage, effects of,

326

Abstractions, 343
Absurdity of prayer taught, 389

of scepticism, 8

Abyssinian Christians, 156
Acanthometra?, 264
Accessory hypotheses, 302, 329
Accident and design, 341
Accidental phenomena, 300

, the word, 342

Action, motives determining, 414

of God, 374

Activity of modern speculation, 2

Adam, 157

Adam's body, 442

Adaptive modifications, sudden, 339

Agnostic philosophy, 6

, its characters, 418

Agnosticism, 18, 21
, logically dumb, 22

— , self-destructive, 13, 17
Agnostics, 6, 15, 22, 404
Agrionida?, 318
Agrogonus, 316
Ahts, 161

Albertus Magnus, 438
Alison, Dr., 222
Americans, 333
Amphioxus, 273, 274

Analogous parts, 256

Analogy, 373

Anatomy of man, 167

Ancien regime, 142

Ancient Egyptians, 163

Andaman Islanders, 138

Anecdotes of brute "reason," 205,

206, 208-211, 213
Animality of man, 295
Animals, their stupidity, 241
Annulose animals, 259
Anthropomorphism, 199, 364, 369,

372

Anti-Christians and Evolution, 426
Anti-impulsive effort, 121
Ants, 181, 183, 214, 250, 370
Ape colours, 308
Apes, 370

, man's resemblance to, 171

characters of, 172, 173

Apostles' Creed, 430

Apparently unworthy phenomena,

369

Aquinas, St. Thomas, 367
Archetypal skeleton, 255

vertebrae, 255

Argyll, Duke of, 143, 374, 398
A.ristotle, 30, 80, 270
Arithmetical power, 161
Articulate sounds, 83, 88
Association and reasoning, 50
Assyrian glass, 152

2 G 2

452

INDEX.

Astronomy and religion, 413
Atavism, 175
Atheism, 377, 399

and despotism, 400

Attention, 121

Attraction, 343

Augustin, St., 435, 436, 438, 441,

447, 449

Australians, 92, 140, 1G3
Authority and philosophy, 4
Automatic faculties, 125

memory, 229

Automatism, 223

, human, 231

Axiom of causation, 356
Axolotl, 272

Baboons, 205, 206

Baden Powell, 366

Bagrus, 272

Bailey, 90

Baime, 142

Bain, Prof., 6, 10, 47, 56, 57, 411,

423

Baker, Sir Samuel, 138
Balmes, 33
Bamboo insects, 246
Bannes, 438
Barratt, Mr., 393
Bastian, Dr., 2, 353, 425, 426
Bates, 245
Beauty, 324
Bee, 358

orchis, 250

Belfast, meeting at, 3, 400
Bell-bird, 312
Bence Jones, Dr., 2
Bennett, Mr. A. W., 249
Be'ranger's owl, 398
Berchetti, 441
Berkeley, 56, 58, 78, 423
Berti, 438, 439
Bertier, 441

Bewilderment from conflict, 5
Bias, 93
Bichat, 222

Bilateral symmetry, 257
Biological Anthropomorphism, 200
Birds of Paradise, 311

, sexual characters of, 309

, singing of, 312

sitting, 201

Blackbird, 317

Blenkiron, Mr., 307

Body of Adam, 442

Bojanus, 254

Bombycidae, 306

Bond of mind and matter, 82

Booted birds, 265

Bossuet, 441

Brazil, 157

Bricks, 152

Bronze period, 161

Brutes, 192

sufferings of, 368

actions non-moral, 370

Buchner, 2, 143
Bugs, 305
Buist, 306
Bullfinch, 314
Burt Wilder, Prof., 265
Burton, Captain, 324
Butterflies, 305, 318, 322
Butterfly mimicking, 245
Bynoe, Mr., 99

Cacti, 249

Cajetan, Cardinal, 438, 441
Calvin, 232
Capercailzie, 309
Cardinal Cajetan, 438, 441

Gousset, 441

Manning, 441

• Noris, 438-440

Wiseman, 441

Caro, 395
Carp-nter bee, 202

, Dr., 2, 120, 299

Carrier pigeons, 304
Carrion plant, 201
Carus, Prof., 253, 254
Cashmere sheep, 339

INDEX.

453

Catalogue of Homologies, 262
Caterpillars, 315, 316
Cathedral of Pavia, 448
Cats, 242
Cat's tail, 349
Causality, final, 358
Causation, 378

, axiom of, 356

, physical, 341

Causes, 356

Ceroxylus laceratus, 247

Certainty, 18, 32

possible, 29

Characters of the Agnostic Philo
sophy, 418

philosophy of nature, 419

Charlevoix, Father, 148
Chauncey Wright, Mr., 332
Cheadle, Dr., 148
Chorda dorsalis, 271
Christian Church, 427

Creed, the, 446

Christianity and Creation, 427, 428

and Judaism, 400

• and Reason, 445

• and Science, 445

Christians of Abyssinia, 156

Claims of Mr. Wallace, 296

Classification, 252

Clifford, Prof., 4, 40

Coal, 366

Cobbe, Miss, 223

Cobra, hood of, 350

Colours of apes, 308

Communists, 397

Community of Nature, 100, 165

Comte, 397, 399, 423

Conceptions, articulable if distinct, 11

, moral, 95

Conscience, 112
Conscious automata, 231
Consciousness, 368

, a starting-point, 3

, states of, 15

, threads of, 14, 57

Consequences, 377, 385

Constitution of Nature, 386

Consumption and marriage, 405

Continuity of the Church, 448

Contradiction, principle of, 47

Contrivance, 354

Cornelius a Lapide, 439

Cosmos, 357

Counting, 91, 98, 99, 101

Cousin, 423

Crabs, 212

Cranial vertebra?, 254, 271

Creation, 364, 371, 372

, fact of, 436

, primary and derivative, 429

— and Christianity, 427, 428

— in. potentia, 431
Creator, 364
Cruelty, 103
Crustacea, 306
Crystals, 343-345
Cure for doubt, 4
Cycads, 249

Daddy-long-legs, 369

Darwin, 2, 25, 85-89, 93, 99, 107-
109, 113, 118, 123, 127, 133, 134,
144, 154, 166, 167, 169, 170, 174,
177-187, 199, 200, 203-205, 207-
215, 255, 281-290, 293-300, 302-
336, 337-342, 349, 350, 353, 354,
363, 374, 388, 393, 425-427

Deaf-mutes, 89

Death, 368

De Blainville, M., 253, 254

Deceptive aspect of ape tricks, 214

Definition of instinct, 239
— of morality, 96

of truth, 20

Degradation, 154

Delphic inscription, 379

Democritus, 333, 341

Demonstration, 29, 33

Denis the Carthusian, 438

Dependence, 363

454

INDEX.

Derivation, 293
Derivative creation, 429, 431
Descartes, 19, 55, 200
Descent of Man, 180, 184
Deserted fires, 201
Design and accident, 341
Despotism and atheism, 400
Determinism, 232
Deus analogus, 199

tequivocus, 199

Development, 176, 229, 268, 272

Difference, relations of, 72

Disciplina, 157

Dislike of religion, 420

Display, 311, 313

Dissociation, 42

Distinct conception articulable, 1 1

Dives, 393

Divine First Cause, 364, 365

Divorce, 156

Dogmatism, 4

Doubt, its cure, 4

, universal, 6

Doubts merely verbal, 10

Draco-volans, 256

Dragon-flies, 318

Dualistic hypothesis, 129

' Dublin Beview,' 23, 224

Duke of Argyll, 143

Dunn, Mr. Henry, 408

Duties, 380

Duty, 95

Dynamic aspect of organisms, 270,

383
Dysteleology, 267

Each organism a unity, 238

Easter Island, 149

Education, 406, 413

Effects of abstinence from marriage,

326

Ego, 20, 359, 377, 378
Elephant, 242

Embryonic development, 168
Emotion and doubt, 5

Emotional language, 82, 87, 229

sensibility, 229

Emotions and music, 325

Empedocles, 341

Energy of matter, 239

Ens creat existentias, 372

Entozoa, 304

Errors of Professor Huxley, 430, 432,
437, 442, 446

Esquimaux, 98, 132, 159

Eternity of Universe, 357

Eucalypti, 249

Euphorbias, 249

Every philosophy must assume know
ledge, 6

Evil, embodiment of, 417

Evolution, 129, 371,419

and anti-Christians, 426

, key of, 359

Existence, 16

Experience, 23, 425

Experimental philosophy, 341, 344

External world, 55

Fact of Creation, 436

Faculties of mind, highest, 48

Fallacy, a remarkable, 23

Falstaff, 366

Fanny Elsler, 362

Fatalists, 122

Feeling, human, misleading, 370

, used misleadiugly, 10

Feelings, 31, 32

Fernando Po, 133

Ferns, 249

Feuerbach, 395

Final causality, 358

Fire making, 155

First Cause, 356-359, 361, 364-367,

370, 372, 375, 376, 379, 393
First truths, 29

, undemonstrable, 33, 34

Florida, 137
Fly-catchers, 317
Foetus, doctrine of, 443

INDEX.

455

Force or form, 383

, vital, 352

Fork, 163

Form or force, 383

Frayssinous, 441

Free-will, 120, 187, 389

Frogs, 221

Fuegians, 133, 455

Fundamental truth, 18

Galagos, 260

Galton, F., 209, 326, 342

Geiger, 86

General liomologues, 264

Genesis of species, 342, 355, 362, 364,

371, 429

Genius, intellectual, 346
Geoffrey St. Hilaire, 253, 254
Gestures, 83, 91
Ghici, 441
Giraffe's neck, 347
Glow-worm, 305
God, 359, 376, 377, 381

, the idea of, 367

God's action, 374

— goodness, 368
Goethe, 253, 254
Goodness, 48, 375
Goodsir, 254
Gousset, Cardinal, 441
Gratitude, 363
Gravity, 346
Greenlanders, 99
Gregarious habits, 208
Grote, 115
Grouse, 318

Growth of plants, 351, 352
Gunther, Dr., 307

Habits of mind, 346
Haeckel, Prof., 426
Hairlessness, 323
Half-apes, 172
Hamburg fowls, 304, 311
Hamilton, Sir William, 6, 21K, 365,
423

Hartmann, 2, 402
Hegel, 219, 393
Hell, 105

Hellenic beauty, 324
Helmholtz, 39, 40

Herbert Spencer, Mr., 6, 10, 15, 23-
26, 30, 34-38, 40, 43-48, 56-60,
62-64, 66-77, 79, 80, 93, 101, 103,
122, 123-127, 153, 162, 203, 216,
232, 233, 235, 255, 259, 267, 268,
280, 359, 361, 362, 381, 382, 385,
388, 390, 397, 401, 403, 406, 409,
411, 415, 423-425
Heron, Sir R., 309
Hieroglyphics, 151
Higher mental powers, 197
Highest faculties of mind, 48
Hobbes, 400
Holbeach, Mr., 407
Holy Office, 398, 400
Homo sylvaticus, 129, 131, 158, 167
Homogen, 261
Homogeny, 261
Homologies, catalogue of, 262
Homologous parts, 256
Homology, 276
Homoplasts, 261
Homoplasy, 261
Homunculus, 176

Honour, 113

Hood of cobra, 350

Hooker, Dr., 297

Hope, 363

Hornbill, 311

Horns, 304

Hottentots, 137

Howling monkeys, 313

Human automatism, 231

feeling misleading, 370

kingdom, 183

Humboldt, W. von, 86

Hume, 56, 58, 110, 391, 423, 424

Hutton, 116, 187

Huxley, Prof., 2, 3, 6, 12-14, 17,19,
23, 25, 57, 90, 93, 102, 103, 117^
120, 126, 127, 199, 215, 217, 231-

456

INDEX.

233, 268, 273, 293-296, 338, 362,
366, 389, 390, 397-401, 411, 423,
426, 427, 429, 430, 432, 434-438,
440-447

Huxley's defence of Darwin, 289

Hygrogonus, 316

Hyperhypostasis, 381

Ice mosses, 343
Idealism, 57
Jgnorantia elenchi, 447
Immortality of the soul, 382
Implications of Agnosticism, 21

of man's animality, 295

Impotencies, mental, 36, 50
Inconceivability, 36, 38
Inconceivable proposition, indefen
sible, 9

Incredibility, 36
Independent similarities, 260
Indian butterfly, 245
Inductive philosophy, 345
Inference, 50

" Inflexible," the word, 340
Influence of environment, 258
Innate force, 345
Insects, 181, 305, 318
Instances of brute "morality," 109

111

Instinct, 192-194
— an abstraction, 237

, definition of, 239

, lapsed intelligence, 233

, what it is, 236

Intellect, ultimate, 32
Intellectual genius, 346

— paralysis, 5
Intention, 106

, purity of, 403

— , the word, 354
Internal force, 276, 280, 319
Intestinal worms, 304
Intimius principium, 351
Intolerance, 396, 399
Introspection, 194
, its unfamiliarity, 5

Intuitive morality, basis of liberty,

400

Inventio, 157, 158
Inverse ratio between sensation and

perception, 230
Ionian philosophy, 301
Isolation, 157

Jaeger, Dr., 310

Jehovah, 388

Jouffroy, 423

Jucundus, 402

Judaism and Christianity, 400

Judgment, 21, 216

Justice, 382

Kaffir washings, 155

Kant, 58, 232, 423

Key of Evolution, 359

Khonds, 140

Kingdom of man, 183

Knowledge, 375

assumed by every philosophy, 6

— of pain, 369

— , relativity of, 6, 7
Know-nothings, 6
Kunge, 249

Labyrinthodonts, 366
Lady's finger, 221
Lamarck, 93
Laminaj dorsales, 271
Lancelot, 273
Land-snails, 213
Language, 82, 165, 197
Lankester, Ray, Prof., 261
Lapsed intelligence, 233
Latency, 230
Lateral homology, 257
' Lay Sermons,' 389
Lazarus, 393
Lecky, Mr., 102, 428
Leech, 260
Lemars, 172

INDEX.

457

Lesson, the first, 28

Lewes, Mr., 6, 32, 38, 40, 47, 49-51,
77-80, 103, 218, 219, 233, 234,
236, 241, 251, 252, 277, 278, 281,
362, 372, 383, 398, 411, 428

Lewins, Dr., 402

Liberty reposes on intuitive mora
lity, 400

Likenesses, 244

uninherited, 257

Living authority of the Church, 444

Lizards, 316

Locke, 55, 399, 423

Logomachy, 11

Lophiomys, 260

Love, 363

Lower psychical powers of man,
221, 228

Lubbock, Sir John, 93, 98, 100-102,
143, 156, 157, 159-161, 164, 166

Lunatics, 393, 399

Macedo, 438

Macintosh, Kev. Wm., 407, 408

Maclise, 254

Macroscelides, 260

Madness and marriage, 405

Mairie~de-Biran, 423

Malebranche, 232

Mammae erraticce, 287

Man, 128

Man's anatomy, 167

lower psychical powers, 221, 228

origin, 177, 185

resemblance to apes, 171

Mansel, 6

Marr, Guillaume, 394

Marriage, 403, 405

Martineau, 42, 55, 57

Martyrdom, 400

Materia prima, 250

Material and formal morality, 106

Materialism, 385

Materialists, 142

Matter, energy of, 239

Matthew Arnold, Mr., 408
Maudsley, Dr., 405
Meaning of truth, 20
Mediterranean oyster, 339
Meeting at Belfast, 33
Melchior Canus, 438
Memory, 196, 197, 378

, trustworthiness of, 23, 24

Menobranclius, 269

Mental equality between different

animals, 21
impotencies, 36, 44

— powers, higher, 197

states, 17

Mercer, Mr., 90

Merit and demerit, 396

Midland Institute, 392, 399

Mill, 6, 10, 14, 16, 38, 42, 45, 46,56,

57, 63, 97, 103-105, 109-112, 122,

216, 232, 401, 411

, John Stuart, 423

Milton, Lord, 148
Mimicry, 244

in plants, 249

Mimosa, 249

Mind, as a symbol, 301

— , habits of, 346

, highest faculties of, 48

, its bond with matter, 82

— , modifications of, 27

, states of, 27

, study of, experimental, 4

— , substance of, 25

to be studied first, 29

Mirabeau, 324

Misleading effects of feeling, 370

use of term " feeling," 10

Misrepresentation, 118
Modern intolerance, 396

passion for nature, 1

— philosophy, 422

speculative activity, 2

Modes of plants' growth, 351, 352
Modifications of mind, 27
Molloy, Dr. Gerald, 442

458

INDEX.

Monistic hypothesis, 129
Monkeys, 172
Moral conceptions, 95

judgments, 102

responsibility, 187

Morality, 364, 378

, definition of, 96

implicitly denied, 103

Mosely, Mr., 259
Moths, 305
Motives, 414
Mott, Mr., 42, 148, 411
Mounds, 150
Muller, John, 219, 220
Murphy, Mr , 343-345
Music, 325

— , playing, 223
Musical feelings, 63

sounds, 186

Myliobatis, 260

Noris, Cardinal, 438, 439

Oken, 253, 254
Oldfield, Mr., 160
Omnipotence, 364, 367, 372
Ontological order, 76
Organic volition, 229
Origin of man, 177, 185

- of right, 105

- of species, 281, 291
Original view of Mr. Darwin, 282
Orthodoxy, its meaning, 437
Orycteropus, 260

Oscar Schmidt, 86

Ouzel, 318

Owen, Prof., 253, 254, 256, 267, 268,

273, 293, 335, 448
Owl of Bcranger, 398

Paget, Sir James, 266

Tain, 368, 369

Palmer, 416

Pangenesis, 255

Pantheism, 357, 365, 377, 385

Pantheistic First Cause, 357
Paralysis (intellectual), 5
Parker, Prof., 261, 268
Parry, Captain, 159
Parsons, Professor, 282, 342
Passion, modern, for nature, 1

athology, 266
Pavia, Cathedral of, 448
Peacock, 309, 310
Pelobatcs, 260
Perfect adjustment, 235
Permanence, 15
Permanent possibilities of sensation,

57

Perrone, 441, 442
Persecution, 400

Personal embodiment of evil, 417
Personality, 361, 375
Petitio principii, 298
Pfeiffer, Madame, 90
Pheasants, 310
Phenomena, apparently unworthy,

369

Philanthropy, 368
Philosophical anatomy, 253, 267, 274,

276

inquiry needs stimulation, 5

Philosophy (Agnostic), 6

— and authority, 4

, experimental, 341, 344

, inductive, 345

— , modern, 422

of nature, its characters, 419

Phraseologies, modern and mediaeval,

383
Physical causation, 341

science, 385, 392, 396

- welfare, 393
Pianciani, Father, 440
Pigeons, 311
Pipe-fishes, 316
Pipes, 150
Planaria\ 259
Planets, 352
Plants, modes of growth, 351, 352

INDEX.

459

Plants, mimicry in, 249

Play, M. Le, 416, 417

Pleasure, 95

Plumage, 309, 317

Poisonous snakes, 349

Polarity, 345, 346

Popular education, 406

Portugal, 157

Positively necessary propositions, 36,
42,50

Possibility of certainty, 29

Postscript, 422

.Potential creation, 371, 431

Power, 375

of song, 325

Prayer, 389

Prejudices, 136, 321

Preliminary truths, 8

Preyer, Professor, 179, 287

Primary knowledge, 17

Primeval man, 88

Principle of contradiction, 47

Principles harmonizing with Evolu
tion, 433

Pritchard, 416

Proboscis, 339

Profligacy and Agnosticism, 404

Progress, 146

Propositions, four orders of, 37

Prototypal ideas, 275, 279

Proverb, 133

Psychology, an experimental science, 4

Psychoses, 391

Puerile hypotheses, 300

Purity of intention, 403

Purpose, 354, 358, 360, 364, 367,
375

Qualities, secondary, 69

' Rambler,' the, 445
Ratiocination, its validity, 49
Rational language, 82, 89
Realism transfigured, 57, 59
Reason, 193, 194, 197
and Christianity, 445

Reason and failure of instinct, 235
and revelation, 422

— not blind like instinct, 235
Reasoning, 215

and association, 50

, its validity, 49

Reflex action, 221, 228, 369
Eeid, 423
Relation, 48
Relations, 253

of difference, 72

of sequence, 70

Relativity of knowledge, 6, 7

of relations between feelings,

69

Relics of St. Augustin, 448
Religion, 135, 165, 362

result of dislike of, 420

Religious consolation, 392
Remarkable fallacy, 23
Renan, Ernest, 398
Responsibility of public teachers, 417
Results of introspection, 194
Retribution, 382
Retrieving, 104, 217
Retrogression, 146, 148, 153, 165
Revelation and Reason, 422

and Theism, 427

Reverence, 363

Reversion, 175, 178

Revival of sensism, 425

Rewards and punishments, 382, 389,

410

Rhesus monkey, 308
Right, 95, 97
Rights, 380
Robebacher, 441
Rolleston, Prof., 101, 102
Royer-Collard, 423
Rupicola crocea, 312
Rush, 416

Sacrifice, 145

Sadness in religion, 389, 392
St. Augikstin, 232, 371, 435, 436,
438, 441, 447, 449

460

INDEX.

St. Bonaventure, 438

St. Hildegard, 441

St. Thomas Aquinas, 367, 373, 431,

436-438, 448, 449
Salmon, 306
Salvado, 141
San Stefano, 448
Savage faiths, 139
Savages, 90
Scepticism, 4, 31

, absolute, 8, 23

, absurd, 8

Schism, 157

Schmidt, Oscar, 86

Scholastic and modern phraseologies,

383

Schroeder, 175
Science and Christianity, 445
Secondary qualities, 69
Sectarianism, 412
Secular education, 406
Secularists, 406
Seeley, Prof., 255
Selection, 346
Self, 12, 13, 17, 19
Self-consciousness, 12, 17, 25-27, 33,

197,

Self-existence, 17, 18
Self-refutation, by Mill, 105

of Agnosticism, 7

Semnopithecus nasalis, 339
Sense-perception and thought, 224
Senses trustworthy, 80
Sensible perception, 222, 228
Sensism, its revival, 425
Sequence, relations of, 70
Serial homology, 257, 258
Series, a, 15, 16
Sorry, 438
Sexual characters of birds, 309

colouring, 305

— relations, 403

— selection, 302, 319, 323, 331
Shame, 113
Shooting fish, 204
Shrine of St. Augustin, 448

Sidgwick, Mr., 60, 64, 65
Similarities, independent, 260
Singing of birds, 312
Sioux, 100
Sitaris beetle, 269
Sitting bird, 201
Six days of Creation, 441
Skeleton, development of, 272
Snakes, poisonous, 349
Social instinct, 108-110
Solenostoma, 316
Song, power of, 325
Sonorous vibrations, 63
Soul, 277

, immortality of, 382

- of foetus, 443
Sound, 62, 67
Sounds, 83
— — , musical, 186
Space of 2 or 4 dimensions, 40
Sparrow, 317
Special homologues, 263
Species, origin of, 281, 291
Specific genesis, 291, 292
Speculative activity of our age, 2
Speech, 82, 84
Sphex, 202
Spix, 253, 254
Stag's voice, 313
Stainton, Mr., 322
Stallions, 307
Standard of morality, 113
Star-chamber, 406

Starting-point, need of a good one, 3
State education, 406
States of consciousness, 15

of mind, 27

Stirling, Mr., 57, 393
Strauss, 2, 143, 426
Stupidity of animals, 241
Style of Mr. Darwin, 297, 327
Suarez, 430, 432-434, 436-438, 442-

445, 447

Substance of mind, 25, 27
Succession, 15
Sudden adaptive modifications, 339

INDEX.

461

Suffering, 368
Summum lonum, 393
Swallows, 111, 201
Swedish lakes, 339

Teachers, their responsibility, 417

Teleology, 358

Temporal happiness, 395,

Teratology, 265

Test of ultimate truths, 36

Theism, 362, 389

• and revelation, 427

" Therefore," 49
Things in themselves, 79
Thomson, Sir William, 353
Thought, 20, 31, 32

, fundamental, 33

, power of, 22

Threads of consciousness, 14, 57

Thrush, 318

Tierra del Fuego, 99

Timbre, 63

Toads, 307

Toleration, 397, 399

Tone, musical, 63

Tonti, 438

Tortoiseshell cats, 304

Touch, 69

Trabecula) cranii, 255

Tragopans, 304

Transfigured realism ,'5 7, 59, 77

Traupmann, 416

Truth, 20, 21, 48

, is, necessarily a good ? 401

Truths, first, 29

, necessary, 21

Turkey, 309

Tycho Brahe, 437

Tylor, Mr., 85, 89-93, 99-101, 133,

137-140, 142, 143, 145-148, 155,

157, 159, 162-166,198
Tyndall, Prof., 2, 26, 57, 103, 344,

386, 387, 426, 428
Tyrol, 158

Ultimate criterion of truth, 45, 47

Ultimate test of truth, 32
Ultramontane Catholics, 43
Umbrella bird, 312
Unfamiliarity of introspection, 5
Ungulates, 350
Unity of man, 184
Unimaginable propositions, 37
Universal doubt, 6

terms, 373

Universe, an eternal, 357
Unknowable, the, 361-363, 381, 382,

388, 390

Unsectarian education, 406
Unworthy phenomena, 369

Validity of reasoning process, 49

Van der Kolk, 175

Variability, 346

Variations, 184

Veddahs, 90, 159

Verbal doubts, 10

Verbum corporis, 83

men tale, 83, 91, 165, 170

oris, 83, 165

Vertebral artery, 261
Vertical homology, 257

symmetry, 257

Vibrations, sonorous, 63
Vincentius Contcnson, 438
Vital force, 352

Vogt, Prof., 2, 85, 103, 143, 426
Voice, 312

of stag, 313

Vrolik, Prof., 175

Wainwright, 416

Wallace, Mr., 2, 147, 186, 245, 246,

296, 297, 300, 306, 314-318, 320,

325

Wallace's view as to colour, 315
Wasp, abdomen of, 369
Water worshippers, 350
Watson, Dr., 416
Weir, Mr. Harrison, 242
, Mr. J., 314

462

INDEX.

Whewell, 38

Wilkes, 324

Wilks, Dr. S., 405

Will, 197, 358, 375, 377, 379

Winged fruits, 249

Winwood Keade, Mr., 103, 325, 393

Wisdom, 364, 366

Woodpeckers, 323

Woolner, 169

World, external, 55

Worship, 362

Wright, Mr. Chauncey, 332

Wrong, 95

Zoological classification, 252
Zulus, 92, 145

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