Full text of "First principles of a new system of philosophy. --"

See other formats

Digitized by tine Internet Arcinive

in 2008 witii funding from

IVIicrosoft Corporation

littp://www.arcliive.org/details/firstprinciplesoOOspenricli

A SYSTEM

SYNTHETIC PHILOSOPHY.

VOL. I.

FIRST

PEINC I.PL E S

NEW SYSTEM OF PinLOSOPIIY.

HEKBERT SPENCER,

ADTHOK or

' niOfcTRATlONS OF THflVRBSAI. PROGRESS," " BBS ATS, MORAL, rOLITICAL A^D iESTlIKTUV,

"TKIKOIPliBS OF PSItCUOLOSY," "PRINCIPLES OF BIOLOOY," " SOCIAL 8T ATI'!©,"

" BUUCATIOK," ETO., KTa

NEW YOEK:
D. APPLETON AND COMPANY,

549 & 551 BROADWAY.

1870.

r.2.

WORKS BY HEBBEBT SFENCEB.

PUBLISHED BY D. APPLETOxV & CO.

Miscellaneous Writings.

EDUCATION— INTELLECTUAL, MORAL, AND PHYSICAL,
1 vol., 12ino. 2S3 .pages. Cloth.

ILLUSTRATIONS OF UNIVERSAL PROGRESS. 1 vol., large
12mo. 470 pages. Cloth.

ESSAYS— MORAL, POLITICAL, AND ^ESTHETIC 1 toI.,
large 12mo. 418 pages.

SOCIAL STATICS; or, the Conditions Essential to Human Happi-
ness Specified^ and the first of them Developed. 1 vol., large 12mo. 523
pages.

THE CLASSIFICATION OF THE SCIENCES : to which is added
Reasons for Dissenting from the Philosophy of M. Comte. A pamphlet of
50 pages. Fine paper.

System of Philosophy.

FIRST PRINCIPLES, in Two Parts— I. The Unknowable; 11.
Laws of the Knowable. 1 vol., large Timo. 508 pages. Cloth.

PRINCIPLES OF BIOL OGY, Vol. I. large 12mo. 475 pages.

** " " Vol. II. large 12mo. 5G6 pages.

INMEMOmAM

Entered, according to Act of Congress, In the year 18(54,

By D. APPLETON & CO.,

la the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United States for the

Southern District of New York.

PREFACE

TO THE AMERICAN EDITION

The present volume is the first of a series designed to un
fold the principles of a new philosophy. It is divided into two
parts : the aim of the first being to determine the true sphere
of all rational investigation, and of the second, to elucidate
those fundamental and universal principles which science has
established within that sphere, and which are to constitute the
basis of the system. The scheme of truth developed in these
First Principles is complete in itself, and has its independent
value ; but it is designed by the author to serve for guidance
and verification in the construction of the succeedinsr and larojer
portions of his philosophic plan..

Having presented in his introductory volume so much of
the general principles of Physics as is essential to the develop-
ment of his method, Mr. Spencer enters upon the subject of
Organic nature. The second work of the series is to be the
Principles of Biology — a systematic statement of the facts and
laws which constitute the Science of Life. It is not to be an
encyclopedic and exhaustive treatise upon this vast subject,
but such a compendious presentation of its data and general
principles as shall interpret the method of nature, afford a
clear understanding of the questions involved, and prepare foi
further inquiries. This work is now published in quarterly
numbers, of from 80 to 96 pages. Four of these parts have
already appeared, and some idea of the course and character

VI PREFACE.

of the discussion may be formed by observing the titles to the
chapters, which are as follows :

Paet First : I. Organic Matter ; IL The Actions of Forces
on Organic Matter ; III. The Reactions of Organic Matter on
Forces ; IV. Proximate Definition of Life ; V. The Correspond-
ence between Life and its Circumstances; VI. The Degree
of Life varies with the Degree of Correspondence; VII.
Scope of Biology. Part Second : I. Growth ; II. Develop-
ment ; III. Function ; IV. Waste and Repair ; V. Adaptation ;
VI. Individuality; VII. Genesis; VIII. Heredity; IX. Varia-
tion ; X. Genesis, Heredity, and Variation ; XI. Classification ;
XII. Distribution.

The Principles of Biology will be followed by the Princi-
ples of Psychology ; that is, Mr. Spencer will pass from the
consideration of Life to the study of Mind. This subject will
be regarded in the light of the great truths of Biology pre-
viously established ; the connections of life and mind will be
traced ; the evolution of the intellectual faculties in their due
succession, and in correspondence with the conditions of the
environment, will be unfolded, and the whole subject of mind
will be treated, not by the narrow metaphysical methods, but
in its broadest aspect, as a phase of nature's order which can
only be comprehended in the light of her universal plan.

The fourth work of the series is Sociology, or the science
of human relations. As a multitude is but an assemblage of
units, and as the characteristics of a multitude result from the
properties of its units, so social phenomena are consequences
of the natures of individual men. Biology and Psychology
are the two great keys to the knowledge of human nature;
and hence from these Mr. Spencer naturally passes to the sub-
ject of Social Science. The growth of society, the conditions
of its intellectual and moral progress, the development of its
various activities and organizations, will be here described, and
a statement made of those principles which are essential to
the successful regulation of social affairs.

Lastly, in Part Fifth, Mr. Spencer proposes to consider the
Principles of Morality. The truths furnished by Biology, Psy-
chology, and Sociology will be here brought to bear, to deter-

PREFACE. Vii

inine correct rules of human action, the principles of private
and public justice, and to form a true theory of right living.

The reader will obtain a more just idea of the extent and pro-
portions of Mr. Spencer's philosophic plan, by consulting his
prospectus at the close of the volume. It will be seen to
embrace a wide range of topics, but in the present work, and
m his profound and original volumes on the "Principles of
Psychology " and " Social Statics," as also throughout his
numerous Essays and Discussions, we discover- that he has
already traversed almost the entire field, while to elaborate the
whole into one connected and organized philosophical scheme,
is a work well suited to his bold and comprehensive genius.
"With a metaphysical acuteness equalled only by his immense
grasp of the results of physical science — alike remarkable
for his profound analysis, constructive ability, and power of
lucid and forcible statement, Mr. Spencer has rare endow-
ments for the task he has undertaken, and can hardly fail to
embody in his system the largest scientific and philosophical
tendencies of the age.

As the present volume is a working out of universal prin-
ciples to be subsequently applied, it is probably of a more ab-
stract character than will be the subsequent works of the
series. The discussions strike down to the profoundest basis
of human thought, and involve the deepest questions upon
which the intellect of man has entered. Those unaccustomed
to close metaphysical reasoning, may therefore find parts of
the argument not easy to follow, although it is here pre-
sented with a distinctness and a vigor to be found perhaps in no
other author. Still, the chief portions of the book may be read
by all with ease and pleasure, while no one can fail to be re-
paid for the pljrsistent efibrt that may be required to master
the entire argument. All who have sufficient earnestness
of nature to take interest in those transcendent questions
which are now occupying the most advanced minds of the age,
will find them here considered with unsurpassed clearness,
originality, and power.

The invigorating influence of philosophical studies upon
the mind, and their consequent educational value, have been

VI 11 PREFACE.

loEg recognized. In tliis point of view the system here pre
Rented has high claims upon the young men of our country, —
embodying as it does the latest and largest results of positive
science ; organizing its facts and principles upon a natural meth-
od, which places them most perfectly in command of memory ;
and converging all its lines of inquiry to the end of a high prac-
tical beneficence, — the unfolding of those laws of nature and
human nature which determine personal welfare and the social
polity. Earnest and reverent in temper, cautious in statement,
severely logical and yet presenting his views in a transparent
and attractive style which combines the precision of science
with many of the graces of lighter composition, it is believed
that the thorough study of Spencer's philosophical scheme would
combine, in an unrivalled degree, those prime requisites of the
highest education, a knowledge of the truths which it is most
important for man to know, and that salutary discipline of the
mental faculties which results from their systematic acquisition.
We say the young men of our country^ for if we are not
mistaken, it is here that Mr. Spencer is to find his largest
and fittest audience. There is something in the bold hand-
ling of his questions, in his earnest and fearless appeal to first
principles, and in the practical availability of his conclusions,
which is eminently suited to the genius of our people. It has
been so in a marked sense with his work on Education, and there
is no reason why it should not be so in an equal degree with his
other writings. They betray a profound sympathy with the
best spirit of our institutions, and that noble aspiration for the
welfiire and improvement of society which can hardly fail to
commend them to the more liberal and enlightened portions
of the American public.

PREFACE TO THE SECOND EDITION.

When the First Edition of tliis work was published, I sup-
posed that the general theory set forth in its Second Part,
was presented in something like a finished form ; but sub-
sequent thought led me to further developments of much
importance, and disclosed the fact that the component
parts of the theory had been wrongly put together.
Even in the absence of a more special reason, I had decided
that, on the completion of the Frincijples of Biology y it would
be proper to suspend for a few months the scries I am
issuing, that I might make the required re-organization.
And when the time had arrived, there had arisen a more
special reason, which forbade hesitation. Translations into
the French and Bassian languages were about to be made
- — had, in fact, been commenced ; and had •! deferred the
re-organization the work would have been reproduced with
all its original imperfections. This will be a suflQcient
explanation to those who have complained of the delay in
the issue of the Frinci^les of Fsycliology.

The First Part remains almost untouched: two verbal
alterations only, on pp. 43 and S9, having been made to
prevent misconceptions. Part II., however, is wholly
transformed. Its first chapter, on "Laws in General,'^ is
omitted, with a view to the inclusion of it in one of the
latter volumes of the series. Two minor chapters disappear.
Most of the rest are transposed, in groups or singly.
And there are nine new chapters embodying the further
developments, and serving to combine the pre-existing
chapters into a changed whole. The following scheme in

X PREFACE TO THE SECOND EDITION.

which the new chapters are marked by italics^ will give an
idea of the transformation i —

First Edition.

LtzTTg-ifi^-G oncral.

The Law of Evolution.

The Law of Evolution (continued).

Tlte-Ga'ascs of Evolution r-

Space, Time, Matter, Motion, and

Force.
The Indestructibility of Matter.
The Continuity of Motion.
The Persistence of Force,

The Correlation and Equivalence

of Forces.
The Direction of Motion.
The Rhythm of Motion.

The-GoHf''-^^'
latioa.

eesential-ta Evo-

The Instability of the Homo-
geneous.
The Multiplication of Effects.
Differentiation and Integration.
Equilibration.

Summary and Conclusion.

Second Edition.

Philosophy JDefined.
The Data of Fhihsophy.

Space, Time, Matter, Motion,
and Force.

The Indestructibility of Matter

The Continuity of Motion.

The Persistence of Force.

The Persistence of lielatloiu
among Forces.

The Transformation and Equi-
valence of Forces.

The Direction of Motion.

The Ehythm of Motion.

Becapitulation, Criticism, a7id
Recommencement

Evolution ajid Dissolution,

Simple and Compmmd Evolution.

TheLawofEvolution.v -p^ „„
N Ke-ar-

The Law of Evolution 1 ranched

(continued). \ witifad-

The Law of Evolution j ditions.
(continued). )

The Law of Evolittion {con,'
eluded).

Tlie Interpretation of EvolutioiK

The Instability of the Homo-
geneous.

The Multiplication of Effects.

Segregation.

Equilibration.

Dissolution,

Summary and Conclusion (Re-
written).

Of course throughout this re-organized Second Part
the numbers of the sections have been changed

PHEFACE TO THE SECOND EDITION.

and hence tiiose who possess the Princijples of Biology, in
which many references are made to passages in First Frin^
ciples, would be inconvenienced by the want of corre-
spondence between the numbers of the sections in the ori-
ginal edition and in the new edition^ were they without any
means of identifying the sections as now numbered.
The annexed hst^ showing which section answers to which
in the two editions^ will meet the requirement : —

First

Second

First

Second

f First

Second

First

Second

First Second

Edit. Edit.

Edit.

Edit-.

Edit.

Edit

Edit. Edit

§43 §119

rio7

§72

§58

§92

§81

§121 §161

44 117

108

122 162

45 118

109

123 163

46 120

110

124 164

47 121

§56 <

111

125 165

48 122

112

QQ>

126 166

49 f23

113

Q>1

127 167

60 124

114

Q>^

, 128 168

51 125

115

109

149

129 169

52 126

110

150

130 170

53 128

111

151

131 171

54 129

112-

152

132 172

ri3o

113

153

133 173

131

114

154

134 174

132

115

155

135 175

55-

133

116

156

136 176

134

(SS

117

157

'»'{S

135

118

158

136

119

159

14i 193

\Z1

120

160

145. 194

The original stereotype plates have been used wherever
it was possible; and hence the exact correspondence be-
tween the two editions in many places^ even where, adjacent
pages are altered.

London, November, 1867

PREFACE.

Tnis volume is the tirsL of a series described in a prospectus
originally distributed in March, 1860. Of that prospectus,
the annexed is a reprint.

A SYSTEM OF PHILOSOPHY.

Me. Herbert Spencer proposes to issue in periodical parts a
connected series of works which he has for several years been
preparing. Some conception of the general aim and scope of
this series may be gathered from the following Programme.

FIKST PEIIS^CIPLES.

Part I. The Unknowable.— Carrying a step further the doctrine
put into shape by Hamilton and Mansel ; pointing out the various direc-
tions in which Science leads to the same conclusions ; and showing
that in this united behef in an Absolute that transcends not only human
knowledge but human conception, lies the only possible reconcihation
of Science and Rehgion.

Part H. Laws of the Knowable. — A statement of the ultimate
principles discernible throughout aU manifestations of the Absolute —
those highest generahzations now being disclosed by Stience which are
severally true not of one class of phenomena but of all classes of pheno-
mena J and which are thus the keys to all classes of phenomena.*

* One of these generalizations is that currently known as ** the Conservation ot
Force ; " a second may be gathered from a published essay on " Progress : its Law
and Cause ; " a third is indicated in a paper on " Transcendental Physiology ; '
and there are several others.

XIV PREFACE.

[ J» logical order should here come the application of those First Fj irn-
pies to Inorganic Nature. But this great division it is proposed to pass
over : partly because, even without it, the scheme is too extensive ; and
partly because the intejpretation of Organic Nature after the proposed
method, is of more immediate importance. The second work of the series
will therefore be — ]

THE PEINCIPLES OF BIOLOGY.
Vol. I.

Part I. The Data of Biology. — Including those general tniths of
Physics and Chemistry with which rational Biology must set out.

II. The Inductions of Biology. — A statement of the leading gener-
alizations which Naturalists, Physiologists, and Comparative Anatomista,
have established.

III. The Evolution of Life.— Concerning the speculation com-
monly known as " The Development Hypothesis " — its d priori and A
posteriori evidences.

Vol. II.

IV. Morphological Development. — Pointing out the relations that
are everywhere traceable between organic forms and the average of the
various forces to which they are subject ; and seeking in the cumulative
effects of such forces a theory of the forms.

V. Physiological Development. — The progressive differentiation of
functions similarly traced ; and similarly interpreted as consequent upon
the exposure of different parts of organisms to different sets of conditions.

VI. The Laws of Multiplication.— Generalizations respecting the
rates of reproduction of the various classes of plants and animals ; fol-
lowed by an attempt to show the dependence of these variations upon
certain necessary causes.*

• The ideas to be developed in the second volume of the Principles of Biology
the -writer has already briefly expressed in sundry lleview- Articles. Part IV.
will work out a doctrine suggested in a paper on " The Laws of Organic Form,"
published in the Medico- Chirurgical Review for January, 1859. The germ of Part
V. is contained in the essay on ** Transcendental Physiology : " See Essays, pp.
280-90. And in Part VI. will be unfolded certain views crudely expressed in »
** Theory of Population," published iu tlie Westminster Review for April 1852

. PREFACE. XV

THE PEINCIPLES OF PSYCHOLOGT.
Vol. I.

Part I. Tiie Data of Psychology.— Treating of the general con-
nexions of Mind ani Life and their relations to other modes of the
Unknowable.

II. The Inductions of Psychology.— A digest of such generaliza-
tions respecting mental phenomena as have already been empmcally
established.

III. General Synthesis. — A republication, with additional chapters,
of the same part in the already-published Principles of Pstjclwhgy.

IV. Specl^l Synthesis. — A republication, with extensive revisions
and additions, of the same part, &c. &c.

V. Physical Synthesis. — An attempt to show the manner in which
the succession of states of consciousness conforms to a certain funda-
mental law of nervous action that follows from the First Principles laid
down at the outset.

YOL. II.

YI. Specl\l Analysis. — As at present published, but further elabor
ated by some additional chapters.

VII. General Analysis. — As at present published, with several
explanations and additions.

VIII. Corollaries. — Consisting in part cf a number of derivative
principles which form a necessary introduction to Sociology.*

THE PEINCIPLES OE SOCIOLOGY.

YOL. I.

Part I. The Data of SoaoLOGY.— A statement of the several sets
of factors entering into social phenomena — human ideas and feelings
considered in their necessary order of evolution ; surrounding natural
conditions; and those ever compUcating conditions to which Society
itself gives origin.

11. The Inductions of Sociology.— General facts, structural and
functional, as gathered from a survey of Societies and their changes : in

* Respecting the several additions to be made to the PrincipUs of PsycJiologijy
it seems needful only to say that Part V. is the unwritten division named in the
preface to that work — a division of which the germ is contained in a note on page
644, and of which the scope has since been more definitely stated in a paper in
the Medico- Chirurgical Review for Jan. 1859.

XVl PREPACTfi.

other words, llie empirical generalizations that arc arrived at by com-
paring different societies, and successive phases of the same society.

III. Political Organization. — The evolution of governments, gene-
ral and local, as determined by natural causes ; their several types and
metamorphoses ; their increasing complexity and specialization ; and the
progressive limitation of their functions.

Vol. II.

IV. Ecclesiastical Organization.— Tracing the differentiation of
religious government from secular ; its successive complications and the
multiplication of sects ; the growth and continued modification of re-
ligious ideas, as caused by advancing knowledge and changing moral
character ; and the gradual reconciliation of these ideas with the truths
of abstract science.

V. Ceremonial Organization.— The natural history of that third
kind of government which, having a common root with the others, and
slowly becoming separate from and supplementary to them, serves to
regulate the minor actions of life.

VI. Industrial Organization. — The development of productive and
distributive agencies, considered, like the foregoing,, in its necessary
causes : comprehending not only the progressive division of labour, and
the increasing complexity of each industrial agency, but also the suc-
cessive forms of industrial government as passing through like phases
with political government.

Vol. Ill,

VII. Lingual Progress. — The evolution of Languages "regarded ae
a i)sychological pi-ocess determined by social conditions.

VIII. Intellectual Progress. — Treated from the same point of
view : including the growth of classifications ; the evolution of science
out of common knowledge ; the advance from qualitive to quantative
prevision, from the indefinite to the definite, and from the concrete to
the abstract.

IX. ^Esthetic Progress. — The Fine Arts similarly dealt with:
tracing their gradual differentiation from primitive institutions and from
each other; their increasing varieties of development; and their ad-
vance in reality of expression and superiority of aim.

X. Moral Progrjess. — Exhibiting the genesis of the slow emotional
modifications which human nature undergoes in its a'daptation to the
social state.

PREFACE. XVU

XI. TiiE Consensus. — Treating of the necessary interdependence of
Mtruclures and of functions in each type of society, and in the successive
pliases of social development.*

THE PEIXCIPLE3 OF MOEALITY.
YOL. I.

Part I. The Data of Moil\lity.— Generalizations furnished by
Biology, Psychology and Sociology, which underlie a true theory oi
right living : in other words, the elements of that equihbrium between
constitution and conditions of existence, which is at once the moral
ideal and the limit towards which we are progressing.

II. The Inductions of Morality.— Those empirically-established
rules of human action which are registered as essential laws by all
civilized nations : that is to say — the generalizations of expediency.

III. Personal Mok\l3. — The principles of private conduct — physical,
intelleciual, moral and religious — that follow from the conchtions to
complete individual life : or, what is the same thing — those modes of
private action which must result from the eventual equiUbration of in-
ternal desires and external needs.

Vol. ir.

IV. Justice. — The mutual Hmitations of men's actions necessitated
by their co-existence as units of a society — limitations, the perfect
observance of which constitutes that state of equilibrium forminor the
goal of political progress.

V. Negative Beneficence.— Those secondary limitations, similarly
necessitated, which, though less important and not cognizable by law,
are yet requisite to prevent mutual destruction of happiness in various
mdirect ways : in other words— those minor self-restraints dictated by
what may be called passive sympathy.

* Of this treatise on Sociology a few small fragments may be found in already-
published essays. Some of the ideas to be developed in Part II. are indicated in
an article on " The Social Organism," contained in the last number of the West-
minster Review ; those which Part V. will work out, may be gathered from the
first half of a paper written some years since on "Manners and Fashion ; " of Part
Vlir, the germs are contained in an article on the " Genesis of Sclofice ;" two
papers on " The Origin and Function of Music" and " The Philosophy of Style,"
contain some ideas to fb embodied in Part IX. ; and from a criticism of Mr. Bain's
work on '• The Emotions and the Will," in the last number of the Medlco-Chirur-
gical Review, the central idea to be developed in Part X. may be inferred.

XVni niEFACB.

VI. Positive Beneficence.— Comprehending all modes of conduct,
dictated by active sympathy, which imply pleasure in giving pleasure^
modes of conduct that social adaptation has induced and must render
ever more general ; and which, in becoming universal, must fill to the
full the possible measure of human happiness.*

In anticipation of the obvious criticism that the scheme here
sketched out is too extensive, it may be remarked that an ex-
haustive treatment of each topic is not intended ; but simply the
establishment oi principles ^ with such illustrations as are needed
to make their bearings fully understood. It may also be pointed
out that, besides minor fragments, one large division {The Princi-
ples of Fsi/cliology) is already, in great part, executed. And a
further reply is, that impossible though it may prove to execute
the w^hole, yet nothing can be said against an attempt to set forth
the rirst Principles and to carry their applications as far as cir.
cumstances permit.

The price per Number to be half-a-crown ; that is to say, the
four Numbers yearly issued to he severally delivered, post free,
to all annual subscribers of Ten Shillings.

• Part IV. of the Principles of Morality/ will be co-extensive (though not iden-
tical) with the first half of the writer's Social Statics.

This Programme I have thonglit well to reprint for two
reasons: — the one being that readers may, from time to
time, be able to ascertain what topics are next to be dealt
with ; the other being that an outline of the scheme may
remain, in case it should never be completed.

The successive instalments of which this volume consists,
were issued to the subscribers at the following dates : — Part
I. (pp, 1—80) in October, 1860 ; Part II. (pp. 81—176) in
Januarv, 1861 ; Part III. (pp. 177—256) in April, 1861 ;
Part IV. (pp. 257—334) in October, 1861 ; Part V. (pp.
3,35_416) in March, 1862; and Part YI. (pp. 417—504)
in June-, 1862.*

London, June 6th, 18G2. ^

• These dates and pagings of the divisions as originally issued, of courMO
Jo not apply to the volume as it now stands, beyond page 123.

CONTENTS.

PART I.— THE UNKNOWABLE.

CHAP.

I. EELIGION AND SCIENCU

11. ULTIMATE EELIGIOUS IDEAS

ni.— -ULTIMATE SCIENTIFIC IDEAS

IV. THE RELATIVITY OP ALL KNOWLEDGE

V. THE EECONCILIATION

PAGE
3

25
47

68
98

PART II.— THE KNOWABLE.

CHAP.

I. PHILOSOPHY DEFINED

II. THE DATA OP PHILOSOPFIY...

III. — SPACE,, TIMEj MATTERj MOTION, AND FORCE

IV. THE INDESTRUCTIBILITY OP MATTER

V. — THE CONTINUITY OP MOTION

VI. — THE PERSISTENCE OP FORCE ... ... "

VII. — THE PERSISTENCE OP RELATIONS AMONG FORCES . .

VIII. THE TRANSFORMATION AND EQUIVALENCE OP FORCES

IX. — THE DIRECTION OP MOTION ... ...

X. — THE RHYTHM OP MOTION .. .

V^ XI. — RECAPITULATION^ CRITICISM, AND RECOMMENCEMENT

^ XII. — EVOLUTION AND DISSOLUTION ,.

PAGE

127
135

158
172
180
185
193
197
222
250
272
278

CONTENTS.

XIII. SIMrLE AND COMPOUND EVOLUTION

XIV. THE LAW OP EVOLUTION

XV. THE LAW 0¥ EVOLUTION CONTINUED

XVI. THE LAW OP EVOLUTION CONTINUED

XVII. THE LAW OP EVOLUTION CONCLUDED

XVIII. THE INTERPRETATION OF EVOLUTION

XIX. THE INSTABILITY OP THE HOMOGENEOUS

XX. THE MULTIPLICATION OP EFFECTS

XXl . SEGREGATION

XXII. — EQUILIBRATION

XXIII. ^DISSOLUTION

XXIY. — SUMMARY AND CONCLUSION

287

307
329
361
381
397
401
431
459
483
518
538

PART L

THE UNKNOWABLE,

CHAPTER I.

RELIGION AND SCIENCE.

'/ § 1. "VYe too often forget that not only is there " a soul ci
goodness in things evil," but very generally also, a soul of
truth in things erroneous. While many admit the abstract
probability that a falsity has usually a nucleus of reality, few
bear this abstract probability in mind, when passing judg-
ment on the opinions of others. A belief that is finally
proved to be grossly at variance with fact, is cast aside with

" indignation or contempt ; and in the heat of antagonism
scarcely any one inquires what there was in this belief which
commended it to men's minds. Yet there must have been
something. And there is reason to suspect that this some-
thing was its correspondence with certain of their experiences :
an extremely limited or vague correspondence perhaps ; but
still, a correspondence. Even the absurdest report may in
nearly every instance be traced to an actual occurrence ; and
had there been no such actual occTirrence^ this preposterous
misrepresentation of it would never have existed. Though
the distorted or magnified image transmitted to us through
the refracting mediimi of rumour, is utterly unlike the reality ;
yet in the absence of the reality there would have been no
distorted or magnified image. And thus it is with human
beliefs in general. Entirely wrong as they may appear, the
implication is that they germinated out of actual experiences
— originally contained, and perhaps still contain, some small
amount of verity.

RELiaiON AND SCIENCE.

More especially may we safely assume tliis, in tlie case of
beliefs that have long existed and are widely diffused ; and
most of all so, in the case of beliefs that are perennial and
nearly or quite imiversal. The presimiption that any current
opinion is not wholly false, gains in strength according to the
number of its adherents. Admitting, as we must, that life is
impossible unless through a certain agreement between in-
ternal convictions and external circumstances ; admitting
therefore that the probabilities are always in favour of the
truth, or at least the partial truth, of a conviction ; we must
admit that the convictions entertained by many minds in
common are the most likely to have some foundation. The
elimination of individual errors of thought, must give to
the resulting judgment a certain additional value. It
may indeed be urged that many widely-spread beliefs
are received on authority ; that those entertaining them
make no attempts at verification ; and hence it may be in-
ferred that the multitude of adlierents adds but little to the
probability of a belief. But this is not true. For a belief
which gains extensive reception without critical examination,
is thereby proved to have a general congruity with the various
other beliefs of those who receive it ; and in so far as these
various other beliefs are based upon personal observation and
judgment, they give an indirect warrant to one with which
they harmonize. It may be that this warrant is of small
value ; but still it is of some value.

Could we reach definite views on this matter, they would
be extremely useful to us. It is important that we should, if
possible, form something like a general theory of current
opinions ; so that we may neither over-estimate nor under-
estimate their worth. Arriving at correct judgments on dis-
puted questions, much depends on the attitude of mind we
preserve while listening to, or taking part in, the controversy ;
and for the preservation of a right attitude, it is needful that
we should learn how true, and yet how untrue, are average
human beliefs. On the one hand, we must keep free from

RELIGION AND SCIENCE. 0

tliat bias in favour of received ideas wHch expresses itself in
such dogmas as "What every one says must be true," or
" Tbe voice of the people is the voice of God/' On tbe other
hand, the fact disclosed by a survey of the past, that majorities
have usually been wrong, must not blind us to the comple-
mentary fact, that majorities have usually not been entirely
wrong. And the avoidance of these extremes being a pre-
requisite to catholic thinking, we shall do well to provide
ourselves with a safe-guard against them, by making a Valua-
tion of opinions in the abstract. To this end we must con-
template the kind of relation that ordinarily subsists between
opinions and facts. Let us do so with one of those beliefs
which under various forms has prevailed among all nations in
all times.

§ 2. The earliest traditions represent rulers as gods or
demigods. By their subjects, primitive kings were regarded
as superhuman in origm, and superhuman in power. They
possessed divine titles ; received obeisances like those made
before the altars of deities ; and were in some cases actually
worshipped. If there needs proof that the divine and half-
divine characters originally ascribed to monarchs were
ascribed literally, we have it in the fact that there are still
existing savage races, among whom it is held that the chiefs
and their kindred are of celestial origin, or, as elsewhere, tliat
only the chiefs have souls. And of course along with beliefs
of this kind, there existed a belief in the unlimited power of
the ruler over his subjects — an absolute possession of them,
extending even to the taldng of their lives at will : as even
stiU in Fiji, where a victim stands unbound to be killed at the
word of his chief ; himself declaring, " whatever the king say-"
must be done."

In times and among races somewhat less barbarous, wc find
these beliefs a little modified. The monarch, instead of bein^
literally thought god or demigod, is conceived to be a man
(laving divine authority, with perhaps more or less of divine

ti REJ.IGION AND SCIENCE.

nature. He retains however, as in the East to the present
day, titles expressing his heavenly descent or relationships ;
and is still saluted in forms and words as humble as those ad-
dressed to the Deity. "While the lives and properties of his
l)eople, if not practically so completely at his mercy, are still
in theory supposed to be his.

Later in the progress of civilization, as during the middle
ages in Europe, the current opinions respecting the relation-
ship of rulers and ruled are further changed. For the theory
of divine origin, there is substituted that of divine right. No
longer god or demigod, or even god-descended, the king is
now regarded as simply God^s vice-gerent. The obeisances
made to him are not so extreme in their humility ; and his
sacred titles lose much of their meaning. Moreover his
authority ceases to bo unlimited. Subjects deny his right to
dispose at will of their lives and properties ; and jdeld alle-
giance only in the shape of obedience to his commands.

With advancing political opinion has come still greater
restriction of imperial power. Belief in the supernatural
character of the ruler, long ago repudiated by ourselves for
example, has left behind it nothing more than the popular
tendency to ascribe unusual goodness, wisdom, and beauty to
the monarch. Loyalty, which originally meant implicit sub-
mission to the king's will, now means a merely nominal pro-
fession of subordination, and the fulfilment of certain forms of
respect. Our political practice, and our political theory, alike
utterly reject those regal prerogatives which once passed im-
questioned. By deposing some, and putting others in their
places, we have not only denied the divine rights of certain
men to rule ; but we have denied that they have any rights
beyond those originating in the assent of the nation. Though
our forms of speech and our state-documents still assert the
subjection of the citizens to the riiler, our actual beliefs and
our daily proceedings implicitly assert the contrary. "VVe
obey no laws save those of our own making. We have entirely
divested the monarch of legislative power; and should iiu-

RELIGION AND SCIENCE. J

mediately rebel against his or her exercise of such power,
even in matters of the smallest concern. In brief, the abo-
riginal doctrine is all but extinct among us.

Nor has the rejection of primitive political beliefs, resulted
only in transferring the authority of an autocrat to a repre-
sentative body. The views entertained respecting govern-
ments in general, of whatever form, are now widely different
from those once entertained. Whether popular or despotic,
governments were in ancient times supposed to have unlimited
authority over their subjects. Individuals existed for the
benefit of the State ; not the State for the benefit of in-
dividuals. In our days, however, not only has the national will
been in many cases substituted for the "will of the king ; but
the exercise of this national will has been restricted to a much
smaller sphere. In England, for instance, though there has
been established no definite theory setting bounds to govern-
mental authority ; yet, in practice, sundry bounds have been
set to it which are tacitly recognized by all. There is no
organic law formally declaring that the legislature may not
freely dispose of the citizens' lives, as early kings did when
they sacrificed hecatombs of victims ; but were it possible for
our legislature to attempt such a thing, its own destruction
would be the consequence, rather than the destruction of
citizens. How entirely we have established the personal
liberties of the subject against the invasions of State-power,
would be quickly demonstrated, were it proposed by Act of
Parliament forcibly to take possession of the nation, or of any
class, and turn its services to public ends ; as the ser\T[ces of
the people were turned by primitive rulers. And should any
statesman suggest a re- distribution of property such as was
sometimes made in ancient democratic communities, he would
be met by a thousand-tongued denial of imperial power over
individual possessions. Not only in our day have these funda-
mental claims of the citizen been thus made good against the
State, but simdry minor claims likewise. Ages ago, laws
regulating dress and mode of living fell into disuse; and

8 RELIGION AND SCIENCE,

any attempt to revive tliem would prove the current opinion
to be, tliat sucli matters lie beyond tbe sphere of legal control.
For some centuries we have been asserting in practice, and
have now established in theory, the right of every man to
choose his osvn religious beliefs, instead of receiving such
beliefs on State-authority. Within the last few generations
we have inaugurated complete liberty of speech, in spite of all
legislative attempts to suppress or limit it. And still more
recently we have claimed and finally obtained under a few
exceptional restrictions, freedom to trade with whomsoever we
please. Thus our political beKefs are widely different from
ancient ones, not only as to the proper depositary of power to
be exercised over a nation, but also as to the extent of that
power.

Not even here has the change ended. Besides the average
opinions which we have just described as current among
ourselves, there exists a less widely-diffused opinion going
still further in the same direction. There are to be foimd
men who contend that ^the sphere of government should bo
narrowed even more than it is in England. The modern
doctrine that the State exists for the benefit of citizens, which
has now in a great measure supplanted the ancient doctrine
that the citizens exist for the benefit of the State, they would
push to its logical results. They hold that the freedom of the
individual, limited only by the like freedom of other individ-
uals, is sacred ; and that the legislature cannot equitably put
further restrictions upon it, either by forbidding any actions
which the law of equal freedom permits, or taking away any
property save that required to pay the cost of enforcing this
law itself. They assert that the sole function of the State is
the protection of persons against each other, and against a
foreign foe. They urge that as, throughout civilization, the
manifest tendency has been continually to extend the liberties
of the fubject, and restrict the functions of the State, there is
reason to believe that the ultimate political condition must bo
one in which personal freedom is the greatest possible and

RELIGION AKD SCIENCE. 9

govemmental power tlie least possible : that, namely, in wliich
the freedom of each has no limit but the like freedom of all ;
while the sole governmental duty is the maintenance of this
limit.

Here then in different times and places we find concerning
the origin, authority, and functions of government, a great
variety of opinions — opinions of which the leading genera
above indicated subdivide into countless species. "What now
must be said about the truth or falsity of these opinions?
Save among a few barbarous tribes the notion that a monarch
is a god or demigod is regarded throughout the world as an
absurdity almost passing the bounds of human credulity.
In but few places does there survive a vague notion that the
ruler possesses any supernatural attributes. Most civilized
communities, which stiU admit the di\^ne right of govern-
ments, have long since repudiated the divine right of kings.
Elsewhere the belief that there is anything sacred in legis-
lative regulations is dying out : laws are coming to be con-
sidered as conventional only. "VYhile the extreme school
holds that governments have neither intrinsic author-
ity, nor can have authority given to them by convention;
but can possess authority only as the administrators of those
moral principles deducible from the conditions essential to
social life. Of these^ various beliefs, wdth their innumerable
modifications, must we then say that some one alone is
wholly right and all the rest wholly wrong ; or must we say
that each of them contains truth more or less completely
disguised by errors ? The latter alternative is the one which
analysis will force upon us. Ridiculous as they may severally
appear to those not educated imder them, every one of these
doctrines has for its vital element the recognition of an
unquestionable fact. Directly or by implication, each of
them insists on a certain subordination of individual actions
to social requirements. There are wide differences as to the
power to which this subordination is due; there are wide
differences as to the motive for this subordination ; there are

10 RELIGION AND SCIENCE.

wide differences as to its extent ; but that there must be some
subordination all are agreed. From the oldest and rudest
idea of allegiance, down to tlie most advanced political theory
of our own day, there is on this point complete unanimity.
Though, between the savage who conceives his life and
property to be at the absolute disposal of his chief, and the
anarchist who denies the right of any government, autocratic
or democratic, to trench upon his individual freedom, there
seems at first sight an entire and irreconcileable antagonism ;
yet ultimate analysis discloses in them this fundamental com-
munity of opinion ; that there are limits which individual
actions may not transgress — limits which the one regards as
originating in the king's will, and which the other regards as
deducible from the equal claims of fellow-citizens.

It may perhaps at first sight seem that we here reach a
very unimportant conclusion j namely, that a certain tacit
assumption is equally implied in all these conflicting political
creeds — an assumption which is indeed of self-evident
validity. The question, however, is not the value or novelty
I of the particular truth in this case arrived at. My aim has
been to exhibit the more general truth, which we are apt to
overlook, that between the most opposite beliefs there is
usually something in common, — something taken for granted
by each ; and that this something, if not to be set down
as an unquestionable verity, may yet be considered to
have the highest degree of probabiKty. A postulate which,
like the one above instanced, is not consciously asserted but
unconsciously involved ; and which is unconsciously involved
not by one man or body of men, but by numerous bodies of
men who diverge in coimtless ways and degrees in the rest of
their beliefs ; has a warrant far transcending any that can be
usually shown. And when, as in this case, the postulate is
[abstract — is not based on some one concrete experience
common to all mankind, but implies an induction from a
great variety of experiences, we may say that it ranks next in
certainty to the postulates of exact science.

RELIGION AND SCIENCE. H

I >^ Do we not thus arrive at a generalization whicli may habit-

Q ually guide us when seeking for the soul of truth in things
\rroneous ? While the foregoing illustration brings clearly
home the fact, that in opinions seeming to be absolutely and
supremely wrong something right is yet to be found ; it also
indicates the method we should pursue in seeking the some-
thing right. This method is to compare all opinions of the

f same genus; to set aside as more or less discrediting one
another those various special and concrete elements in which
such opinions disagree ; to observe what remains after the
discordant constituents have been eliminated; and to find
for this remaining constituent that abstract expression which

V holds true throughout its divergent modifications.

§ 3. A candid acceptance of this general principle and an
adoption of the course it indicates, will greatly aid us in deal-
ing with those chronic antagonisms by which men are
divided. Appl3dng it not only to current ideas with whicli
we are personally unconcerned, but also to our own ideas and
those of our opponents, we shall be led to fomi far more
correct judgments. We shall be ever ready to suspect that
the convictions we entertain are not wholly right, and that
the adverse convictions are not wholly wrong. On the one
hand we shall not, in common with the great mass of the
unthinking, let our beKefs be determined by the mere accident
of birth in a particular age on a particular part of the Earth's
surface ; and, on the other hand, we shall be saved from thjit
error of entire and contemptuous negation, which is f dlen
into by most who take up an attitude of independent criti(rlsm.
Of all antagonisms of belief, the oldest, the widest, the niosi
iprofound and the most important, is that between Religion
fland Science. It commenced when the recognition of the
simplest uniformities in surrounding things, set a limit to
the once universal superstition. It shows itself everywhere
throughout the domain of human knowledge: affecting men's
interpretations alike of the simplest mechanical accidents and

12 RELIGION AND SCIENCE.

of tlie most complicated events in tlie histories of nations.
It lias its roots deep do^vn in the diverse habits of thoug^ht of
different orders of minds. And the conflicting conceptions of
nature and life which these diverse habits of thought severally
generate, influence for good or ill the tone of feeling and the
daily conduct.

An uiiceasing battle of opinion like this which has been
carried on throughout all ages under the banners of Religion
and Science, has of course generated an animosity fatal to a
just estimate of either party by the other. On. a larger scale,
and more intensely than any other controversy, has it illus-
trated that perennially significant fable concerning the knights
who fought about the colour of a shield of which neither
looked at more than one face. Each combatant seeing clearly
his own aspect of the question, has charged his opponent
with stupidity or dishonesty in not seeing the same aspect of
it; while each has wanted the candour to go over to his
opponent's side and find out how it was that he saw every-
thing so differently.

Happily the times display an increasing cathoKcity of feel-
ing, which we shall do well in carrying as far as our natures
permit. In proportion as we love truth more and victory
less, we shall become anxious to know what it is which leadb
our opponents to think as they do. "VVe shall begin to suspect
that the pertinacity of belief exhibited by them must result
from a perception of something we have not perceived. And
we shall aim to supplement the portion of truth we have
found with the portion found by them. Making a more
rational estimate of human authority, we shall avoid alike the
extremes of undue submission and undue rebellion — shall not
regard some men's judgments as wholly good and others as
wholly bad ; but shall rather lean to the more defensible
position that none are completely right and none are com-
pletely wrong.

Preserving, as far as may be, this impartial attitude, let us
then contemplate the two sides of this great controversy.

RKMOTON AND SCIENCE.

Keeping guard against the bias of education and shutting out
the whisperings of sectarian feeling, let us consider what are
the a priori probabilities in favour of each party*

§ 4. When duly reaKzed, the general principle above
illustrated must lead us to anticipate that the diverse forms
^f religious belief which have existed and which still exist,
lave all a basis in some ultimate fact. Judging by analogy,
the implication is, not that any one of them is altogether
right ; but that in each there is something right more or less
disguised by other things wrong. It may be that the soul of
truth contained in erroneous creeds is very unlike most, if not
all, of its several embodiments ; and indeed, if, as we have good
reason to expect, it is much more abstract than any of them,
its unlikeness necessarily follows. But however different
from its concrete expressions, some essential verity must be
looked for. To suppose that these multiform conceptions
should be one and all absolutely groundless, discredits too
profoundly that average human, intelligence from which all
our individual intelligences are inherited.

This most general reason, we shall find enforced by other
more special ones. To the presumption that a number of
diverse beliefs of the same class have some common founda-
tion in fact, must in this case be added a further presumption
derived from the omnipresence of the beliefs. Beligious ideas
of one kind or other are almost universal. Admitting that
m^many places there are^trlFes who have no theory of crea-
tion, no word for a deity, no propitiatory acts, no idea of an-
other life — admitting that only when a certain phase of intel-
ligence is reached do the most rudimentary of such theories
make their appearance; the implication is practically the
same. Grant that among all races who have passed a
certain stage of intellectual development there are found
vague notions concerning the origin and hidden na-
ture of surroundinsj thino^s ; and there arises the infer-
ence that such notions are necessary products of pro-
gressing intelligence. Their endless variety serves but

14 RELIGION AND SCIENCE.

to strengtheii this conclusion : showing as it does a more or
less independent genesis — showing how, in different places
and times, like conditions have led to similar trains of
thought, ending in analogous results. That these countless
different, and yet allied, phenomena presented by all religions
are accidental or factitious, is an untenable supposition. A
candid examination of the evidence quite negatives the doc-
trine maintained by some, that creeds are priestly inventions.
Even as a mere question of probabilities it cannot rationally
be concluded that in every society, past and present, savage
and civilized, certain members of the community have com-
bined to 9.elude the rest, in ways so analogous. To any who
may allege that some primitive fiction was devised by some
primitive priesthood, before yet mankind had diverged from
a common centre, a reply is furnished by philology ; for
philology proves the dispersion of mankind to have com-
menced before there existed a language sufficiently organized
to express religious ideas. Moreover, were it otherwise tenable,
the hypothesis of artificial origin fails to account for the facts.
It does not explain why, under all changes of form^ certain
elements of religious belief remain constant. It does not
show us how it happens that while adverse criticism has from
age to age gone on destroying particular theological dogmas,
it has not destroyed the fundament&l conception underlying
these dogmas. It leaves us without any solution of the strik-
ing circumstance that when, from the absurdities and cor-
ruptions accumulated around them, national creeds have
fallen into general discredit, ending in indifferentism or
positive denial, there has always by and by arisen a re-asser-
tion of them : if not the same in form, stiU the same in
essence. Thus the universality of religious ideas, their in-
dependent evolution among different primitive races, and
their great vitality, unite in showing that their source must
be deep-seated instead of superficial. In other words, we
are obliged to admit that if not supcmaturaUy derived as

RELIGION AND SCIENCE. 15

"tlie majority contend, tbey must be derived out of human
experiences, slowly accumulated and organized.

Should it be asserted that religious ideas are products of
tlie reUgious sentiment, wliicb, to satisfy itself, prompts
imaginations that it afterwards projects into the external
world, and by and by mistakes for realities ; the problem is
not solved, but only removed further back. 'V^Tiether the
wish is father to the thought, or whether sentiment and idoe
have a common genesis, there equally arises the question —
^Vhence comes the sentiment? That it is a constituent in
man's nature is implied by the hj^othesis ; and cannot in-
deed be denied by those who prefer other hj^otheses. And
if the religious sentiment, displayed habitually by the majority
of mankind, and occasionally aroused even in those seemingly
devoid of it, must be classed among human emotions, we
cannot rationally ignore it. We are bound to ask its origin
and its function. Here is an attribute which, to say the least,
has had an enormous influence — ^which has played a con-
spicuous part throughout the entire past as far back as
history records, and is at present the life of numerous insti-
tutions, the stimulus to perpetual controversies, and the
prompter of countless daily actions. Any Theory of Tilings
"which takes no account of this attribute, must, then, be ex-
tremely defective. If >vith no other view, still as a question
ill philosophy, we are called on to say what this attribute
means ; and we cannot decline the task -without confessing
our philosophy to be incompetent.

/ Two suppositions only are open to us : the one that the

^ feeling which responds to religious ideas resulted, along witli

. all other human faculties, from an act of special creation ; the

other that it, in common with the rest, arose by a process of

'Evolution. If we adopt the first of these alternatives, imi-

versally accepted by our ancestors and by the immense

majority of our contemporaries, the matter is at once settled :

man is directly endowed with the religious feeling by a

16 RELIGION AND SCIEKCE.

creator; and to that creator it designedly responds. If we"
adopt the second alternative, then we are met by the questions
— What are the circumstances to which the genesis of the re-
ligious feeling is due ? and — "What is its office ? We are bound
to entertain these questions ; and we are bound to find
answers to them. Considering all faculties, as we must on
this supposition, to result from accumulated modifications
caused by the intercourse of the organism with its environ-
ment, we are obliged to admit that there exist in the environ-
ment certain phenomena or conditions which have determined
the growth of the feeling in question ; and so are obliged to
admit that it is as normal as any other faculty. Add to
which that as, on the hypothesis of a development of lower
forms into higher, the end towards which the progressive
changes directly or indirectly tend, must be adaptation to
the requirements of existence; we are also forced to infer
that this feeling is in some way conducive to human welfare.
Thus both alternatives contain the same ultimate implication.
W^e must conclude that the religious sentiment is either di-
rectly created, or is created by the slow action of natural
causes ; and whichever of these conclusions we adopt, requires
us to treat the religious sentiment with respect.

One other consideration should not be overlooked — a con-
sideration which students of Science more especially need to
have pointed out. Occupied as such are with established truths,
and accustomed to regard things not already known as things
to be hereafter discovered, they are liable to forget that in-
formation, however extensive it may become, can never satisfy
inquiry. Positive knowledge does not, and never can, fill
the whole region of possible thought. At tlie uttermost
reach of discovery there arises, and must ever arise, the ques-
tion— What lies beyond ? As it is impossible to think of a
limit to space so as to exclude the idea of space lying outside
that limit ; so we cannot conceive of any explanation profound
enough to exclude the question — ^What is the explanation of
that explanation ? Regarding Science as a gradually increas-

RELIGION AND SCIENCE. 17

ing spliere, we may say that every addition to its sui'face
does but bring it into wider contact with surrounding nescience.
There must ever remain therefore two antithetical modes of
mental action. Throughout aU future time, as now, the
human mind may occupy itself, not only with ascertained
phenomena and their relations, but also with that im-
ascertaiued something which phenomena and their rela-
tions imply. Hence if knowledge cannot monopolize
consciousness — if it must always continue possible for the
mind to dwell upon that w^hich transcends knowledge ; then
there can never cease to be a place for something of the
nature of Religion ; since Religion under aU its forms is dis-
tinguished from everything else in this, that its subject
matter is that which passes the sphere of experience.

Thus, however untenable may be any or all the existing
religi(xi^ creeds, however gross the absui'dities associated with
them, however irrational the arguments set forth in their de-
fence, we must not ignore the verity which in all likelihood
lies hidden within them. The general probability that widely-
spread beliefs are not absolutely baseless, is in this case en-
forced by a further probability due to the omnipresence of
the beliefs. In the existence of a religious sentiment, what-
ever be its origin, we have a second evidence of great signifi-
cance. And as in that nescience which must ever remain the
antithesis to science, there is a sphere for the exercise of this
sentiment, we find a third general fact of like implication.
J\ye may be sure therefore that religions, though even none
!f)f them be actually true, are yet all adumbrations of a truth.

§ 5. As, to the religious, it will seem absurd to set forth
any justification for Religion ; so, to the scientific, wiU it seem
absurd to defend Science. Yet to do the last is certainly aa
needful as to do the first. If there exists a class who,, in
contempt of its follies and disgust at its corruptions, have
contracted towards Religion a repugnance which makes them
overlook the fundamental verity contained in it ; so, too, is

18 RELIGION AND SCIENCE.

there a class offended to such a degree by tlic destructive
criticisms men of science make on the religious tenets they
regard as essential, that they have acquired a strong prejudice
against Science in general. They are not prepared with any
avowed reasons for their dislike. They have simply a re-
membrance of the rude shakes which Science has given to
many of their cherished convictions, and a suspicion that it
may perhaps eventually uproot all they regard as sacred ; and
hence it produces in them a certain inarticulate dread.

What is Science ? To see the absurdity of the prejudice
against it, we need only remark that Science, is simply a
higher development of common knowledge ; and that if
Science is repudiated, all knowledge must be repudiated
along with it. The extremest bigot will not suspect any
harm in the observation that the sun rises earlier and sets
later in the summer than in the winter; but will .rather
consider such an observation as a useful aid in fulfilling the
duties of life. Well, Astronomy is an organized body of
similar observations, made with greater nicety, extended to a
larger number of objects, and so analyzed as to disclose the
real arrangements of the heavens, and to dispel our false con-
ceptions of them. That iron will rust in water, that wood
will burn, that long kept viands become putrid, the most
timid sectarian wiU teach without alarm, as tilings useful to
be known. But these are chemical truths : Chemistry is a
systematized collection of such facts, ascertained with pre-
cision, and so classified and generalized as to enable us to say
with certainty, concerning each simple or compound substance,
what change will occur in it under given conditions. And
thus is it with all the sciences. They severally germinate
out of tlie experiences of daily life ; insensibly as they grow
they draw in remoter, more numerous, and more complex
experiences ; and among these, they ascertain laws of de-
pendence like those which make up our knowledge of the
most familiar objects. Nowhere is it possible to draw a lino
and say — here Science begins. And as it is the function of

KEX.IG10N an: SC3EXC3. U*

common observation to serve for the guidance of conduct ; so,
too, is the guidance of conduct the office of the most recondite
and abstract inquiries of Science. Through the countless in-
dustrial processes and the various modes of locomotion which
it has given to us, Physics regulates more completely our social
life than does his acquaintance ydth the properties of sur-
rounding bodies regulate the Kfe of the savage. Anatomy
and Physiology, through their effects on the practice of medi-
cine and hygiene, modify our actions almost as much as does
our acquaintance with the evils and benefits which common
environing agencies may produce on our bodies. All Science
is prevision ; and all Revision ultimately aids us in greater or
less degree to achieve the good and avoid the bad. As
certainly as the perception of an object lying in our path
warns us against stumbling over it ; so certainly do those
more complicated and subtle perceptions which constitute
Science, warn us against stumbling over intervening obstacles
in the pursuit of our distant ends. Thus being one in origin
and function, the simplest forms of cognition and the most
complex must be dealt with alike. We* are bound in con-
sistency to receive the widest knowledge which our faculties
can reach, or to reject along with it that narrow knowledge
possessed by all. There is no logical alternative between
accepting our intelligence in its entirety, or repudiating even
that lowest intelligence which we possess in common with
brutes.

To ask the question which more immediately concerns our
argument — whether Science is substantially true ? — is much

(like asking whether the sun gives light. And it is because
they are conscious how undeniably valid are most of its proposi-
I tions, that the theological party regard Science with so much
I flocret alarm. They know that during the two thousand
I years of its growth, some of its larger divisions — mathe-
matics, physics, astronomy — have been subject to the ri-
gorous criticism of successive generations ; and have notwith-
standing become ever more firmly established. They know

20 RELIGION AND SCIENCE.

tliat, unlike many of tlieir own doctrines, which, were once
universally received but have age by age been more
frequently called in question, the doctrines of Science, at first
ron fined to a few scattered inquirers, have been slowly grow-
ing into general acceptance, and are now- in great part ad-
mitted as beyond dispute. They know that men of science
iiiroughout the world subject each other's results to the most
searching examination ; and that error is mercilessly exposed
and rejected as soon as discovered. And, finally, they know
that still more conclusive testimony is to be found in the
daily verification of scientific predictions, and in the never-
ceasing triumphs of those arts which Science guides.

To regard with alienation that which has such high
credentials is a folly. Though in the tone which many of
the scientific adopt towards them, the defenders of Keligion
may find some excuse for this alienation; yet the excuse is a
very insuificient one. On the side of Science, as on their own
side, they must admit that short- comings in the advocates do
not tell essentially against that which is advocated. Science
must be judged by itself : and so judged, only the most per-
verted intellect can fail to see that it is Avorthy of all- reverence.
Be there or be there not any other revelation, we have a
veritable revelation in Science — a continuous disclosure,
through the intelligence with which we are endowed, of the
established order of the Universe. This disclosure it is the
duty of every one to verify as far as in him lies ; and having
verified, to receive with all humilitv.

§ 6. On both sides of this great controversy, then, truth
must exist. An unbiassed consideration of its general aspects
forces us to conclude that Heligion, everywhere present as a
weft running through the warp of human history, expresses
some eternal fact ; while it is almost a truism to say of Science
that it is an organised mass of facts, ever growing, and ever
being more completely purified from errors. And if both
have bases in the reality of thinfjs, then between them there

RELIGION AND SCIENCE. 21

must be a fundamental harmony. It is an incredible hj^o-
tEesis that there are two orders of truth, in absolute and ever-
lasting opposition. Only on some Manichean theory, which
among ourselves no one dares openly avow however much his
beliefs may be tainted by it, is such a supposition even con-
ceivable. That Religion is divine and Science diabolical, is a
proposition which, though implied in many a clerical declama-
tion, not the most vehement fanatic can bring himself dis-
tinctly to assert. And whoever does not assert this, must
admit that under their seeming antagonism lies hidden an
entire agreement.

Each side, therefore, has to recognize the claims of the other
as standing for truths that are not to be ignored. lie who
contemplates the Universe from the religious point of view,
must learn to see that this which we call Science is one con-
stituent of the great whole ; and as such ought to be regarded
with a sentiment like that which the remainder excites.
While he who contemplates the universe, from the scientific
point of view, must learn to see that this which we call Eeli-
gion is similarly a constituent of the great whole ; and being
such, must be treated as a subject of science with no moro
prejudice than any other reality. It behoves each party to
strive to understand the other, with the conviction that the
other has something worthy to be understood ; and with the
conviction that when mutually recognized this something
will be the basis of a complete reconciliation.

How to find this something — how to reconcile them, thua
becomes the problem which we should perseveringly try to
solve. Xot to reconcile them in any makeshift way — not to
find one of those compromises we hear from time to timo
proposed, which their proposers must secretly feel are arti-
ficial and temporary ; but to arrive at the terms of a real anc
permanent peace between them. The thing we have to seek
out, is that ultimate truth which both will avow with abso-
lute sincerity — with not the, remotest mental reservation.
There shall be no concession— no yielding on either side of

22 RELIGION AND SaENCE.

something that will by and by be reasserted ; but the common

ground on wbicb they meet shall be one which, each, will

\ maintain for itself. "We have to discover some fundamental

verity wliich. Religion will assert, with all possible emphasis,

j jin tbe absence of Science ; and wbicb Science, witb all possible

I ! emphasis, will assert in the absence of Religion — some funda-

' / mental verity in the defence of whicb each will find the

other its ally. ^

Or, changing the point of view, our aim must be to co-
ordinate the seemingly opposed convictions which Eeligion
and Science embody. From th.e coalescence of antagonist
ideas, each containing its portion of truth, tbere always arises
a higher development. As in Geology when the igneous and
aqueous hypotheses were united, a rapid advance took place ;
as in Biology we are beginning to progress througb tbe
fusion of the doctrine of t}^es with, tbe doctrine of adapta-
tions; as in Psychology the arrested growth reconmiences
now that the disciples of Kant and those of Locke have both
their views recognized in the theory that organized ex-
periences produce forms of thought ; as in Sociology, now that
it is beginning to assume a positive character, we find a recog-
nition of both the party of progress and the party of order, as
each holding a truth which forms a needful complement to
that held by the other ; so must it be on a grander scale with
Religion and Science. Here too we must look for a conception
which combines the conclusions of both ; and here too we may
expect important results from their combination. To un-
derstand how Science and Religion express opposite sides of
the same fact — the one its near or visible side, and the other
its remote or invisible side — this it is which we must attempt;
and to achieve this must profoundly modify our general
Theory of Things.

Already in the foregoing pages the method of seeking such
a reconciliation has been vaguely foreshadowed. Before pra-
ceeding further, however, it will be well to treat the question
of method more definitely. To find that truth in which

RELIGION AND SCIENCE. 23

Religion and Science coalesce, we must know in what di-
rection to look for it, and wliat kind of truth it is likely
to be.

§ 7. "VVe have found a priori leason for believing that in

all religions, even the rudest, there lies hidden a fundamental

^ verity. We have inferred that this fundamental verity is

that element common to all religions, which remains after

their discordant peculiarities have been mutually cancelled

I And we have further inferred that this element is almost

I certain to be more abstract than any current religious

* doctrine. ISTow it_i3__manifest that onlyi-iii -aoma highly

abstract proposition, can E^gion and Science find a common

ground. Neither such dogmas as those of the trinitarian and

unitarian, nor any such idea as that of propitiation, common

though it may be to all religions, can serve as the desired

basis of agreement ; for Science cannot recognize beliefs like

these : they lie beyond its sphere. Ilence we see not only

that, judgiQg by analogy, the essential truth contaiaed in

Religion is that most abstract element pervading all its forms ;

but also that this most abstract element is the only one in

which Religion is likely to agree with Science.

Similarly if we begin at the other end, and inquire what
scientific truth can imite Science and Religion. It is at once
manifest that Religion can take no cognizance of special
scientific doctrines ; any more than Science can take cogni-
' zance of special religious doctrines. The truth which Science
asserts and Religion indorses cannot be one furnished by
mathematics ; nor can it be a physical truth ; nor can it be a
truth in chemistry : it cannot be a truth belonging to any
particular science. No generalization of the phenomena of
space, of time, of matter, or of force, can become a Religious
conception. Such a conception, if it anywhere exists in
Science, must be more general than any of tliese — must be
one underlying all of them. If there be a fact which
Science recognizes in common with Religion, it must be that

Z'± RELIGION AND SCIENCE,

fact from which the several branches of Science diverge, as
from their common root.

Assmniiig then, that since these two great realities are

constituents of the same mind, and respond to different aspects

of the same Universe, there must be a fundamental harmony

between them ; we see good reason to conclude that the most

|--^stract truth contained in Religion and the most abstract

y truth contained in Science must be the one in which the two

^coalesce. The largest fact to be found within our mental

range must be the one of which we are. in search. Uniting

these positive and negative poles of human thought, it must

be the ultimate fact in our intelligence.

§ 8. Before proceeding in the search for this common
datum let me bespeak a little patience. The next three
chapters, setting out from different points and converging to
the same conclusion, will be comparatively unattractive.
Students of philosophy will find in them much that is more
or less familiar ; and to most of those who are unacquainted
with the literature of modem metaphysics, they may prove
somewhat difficult to follow.

Our argument however cannot dispense with these chap-
ters ; and the greatness of the question at issue justifies even
a heavier tax on the reader's attention. The matter is one
which concerns each and all of us more than any other matter
whatever. Though it affects us little in a direct way, the view
we arrive at must indirectly affect us in all our relations — must
determine our conception of the Universe, of Life, of Human
Nature — must influence our ideas of right and wrong, and so
. modify our conduct. To reach that point of view from which
the seeming discordance of Religion and Science disappears,
and the two merge into one, must cause a revolution of
thought fruitful in beneficial consequences, and must surely
bo worth an effort.

Here ending preliminaries, let us now address ourselve« to
this all-important inquiry.

CHAPTER n.

ULTIMATE RELIGIOUS IDEAS.

§ 9. TVhen, on tlie sea-sHore, we note how the hulls of
distant vessels are hidden below the horizon, and how, of still
remoter vessels, only the uppermost sails are visible, we
realize with tolerable clearness the slight curvature of that
portion of the sea's surface which lies before us. But when
we seek in imagination to follow out this curved surface as it
actually exists, slowly bending round until aU its meridians
meet in a point eight thousand miles below our feet, we find
ourselves utterly baffled. "VVe cannot conceive in its real
form and magnitude even that small segment of our globe
which extends a hundred miles on every side of us ; much
less the globe as a whole. The piece of rock on which we
stand can be mentally represented with something like com-
pleteness : we find ourselves able to think of its top, its sides,
and its under surface at the same time ; or so nearly at the
same time that they seem all present in consciousness together;
and so we can form what we call a conception of the rock.
But to do the like with the Earth we find impossible. If
even to imagine the antipodes as at that distant place in
space which it actually occupies, is beyond our power ; much
more •beyond our power must it be at the same time to
imagine all other remote points on the Earth's surface as
in their actual places. Yet we habitually speak as though
jwe had an idea of the Earth— ^as though we could think of it
|in the same way that we think of minor objects.

'<^6 ULTIMATE RELIGIOUS IDEAS.

"WTiat conception, then, do we form of it ? the reader may
ask. That its name calls up in us some state of consciousness
is unquestionable ; and if this state of consciousness is not a
conception, properly so called, what is it ? The answer seems
to be this : — We have learnt by indirect methods that the
Earth is a sphere ; we have formed models approximately
representing its shape and the distribution of its parts ;
generally when the Earth is referred to, we either think of an
indefinitely extended mass beneath our feet, or else, leaving
out the actual Earth, we think of a body like a terrestrial
globe ; but when we seek to imagine the Earth as it really is,
we join these two ideas as well as we can — such perception as
our eyes give us of the Earth's surface we couple with the
conception, of a sphere. And thus we form of the Earth, no|;
a conception properly so called, but only a symbolic concep-
tion. * ^

A large proportion of our conceptions, including all those
of much generality, are of this order. Great magnitudes,
great durations, great numbers, are none of them actually
conceived, but are all of them conceived more or less symbol-
ically ; and so, too, are all those classes of objects of which we
predicate some common fact. When mention is made of any
individual man, a tolerably complete idea of him is formed.
If the family he belongs to be spoken of, probably but a part
of it will be represented in thought : under the necessity of
attending to that which is said about the family, we realize in
imagination only its most important or familiar members,
and pass over the rest with a nascent consciousness which we
know could, if requisite, be made complete. Should some-
thing be remarked of the class, say farmers, to which this
family belongs, we neither enumerate in thought all the indi-
viduals contained in the class, nor believe that we could«do so
if required ; but we are content with taking some few samples

* Those who may have before met with this term, will perceive that it is hew
used in quite a different Mnse.

ULTIMATE RELIGIOrS IDEAS. 27

of it, and remembering that these could be indefinitely mul-
tiplied. Supposing the subject of which something is predi-
cated be Englishmen, the answering state of consciousness is
a still more inadequate representative of the reality. Yet
more remote is the likeness of the thought to the thing, if
reference be made to Europeans or to human beings. And
when we come to propositions concerning the mammalia, or
concerning the whole of the vertebrata, or concerning animals
in general, or concerning all organic beings, the unlikeness of
our conceptions to the objects named reaches its extreme.
Throughout which series of instances we see, that as the
nimiber of objects grouped together in thought increases, the
concept, formed of a fetv typical samples joined with the
notion of multiplicity, becomes more and more a mere symbol ;
not only because it gradually ceases to represent the size of
the group, but also because as the group grows more hetero-
geneous, the tjrpical samples thought of are less like the
average objects which the group contains.

Thi3_formation of S}Tnbolic conceptions, which inevitably
^ arises as we pass from small and concrete objects to large and
i^to discrete ones, is mostly a very useful, and indeed necessary,
process. When, instead of things whose attributes can bo
tolerably well united in a single state of consciousness, we
have to deal with things whose attributes are too vast or
numerous to be so united, we must either drop in thought
part of their attributes, or else not think of them at all —
either forni a more or less symbolic conception, or no concep-
tion. We must predicate nothing of objects too great or too
multitudinous to be mentally represented ; or we must make
our predications by the help of extremely inadequate repre-
sentations of such objects — mere S3Tiibols of them.

But while by this process alone we are enabled to form
general propositions, and so to reach general conclusions, we are
by this process perpetually led into danger, and very often
into error. We habitually mistake our s3rmbolic conceptions
for real ones ; and so are betrayed into countless false infer-

28 * ULTIMATE EELIGIOUS IDEAS.

ences. Not only is it that in proportion as the concept we
form of any thing or class of things, misrepresents the reality,
we are apt to be wrong in any assertion we make respecting
the reality ; but it is that we are led to suppose we have truly
conceived a great variety of things which we have conceived
only in this fictitious way ; and further to confound with
these certain things which cannot be- conceived in any way.
How almost unavoidably we fall into this error it will be
needful here to observe.
J From objects readily representable in their totality, to those
/ of which we cannot form even an approximate representation,
""^ -'tjiere is an insensible transition. Between a pebble and the
entire Earth a series of magnitudes might be introduced, each
of which differed from the adjacent ones so slightly that it
would be impossible to say at what point in the series our
conceptions of them became inadequate. Similarly, there is
a gradual progression from those groups of a few individuals
which we can think of as groups with tolerable completeness,
to those larger and larger groups of which we can form
nothing like true ideas. "Whence it is manifest that we pass
from actual conceptions to symbolic ones by infinitesimal
steps. Note next that we are led to deal with our symbolic .
conceptions as though they were actual ones, not only because
we cannot clearly separate the two, but also because, in the
great majority of cases, the first serve our purposes nearly or
quite as well as the last — are simply the abbre^aated signs
we substitute for those more elaborate signs which are our
equivalents for real objects. Those very imperfect represent-
ations of ordinary things which we habitually make in thinking,
we know can be developed into adequate ones if needful. Those
concepts of larger magnitudes and more extensive classes
which we cannot make adequate, we still find can be verified
by some indirect process of measurement or enumeration.
And even in the case of such an utterly inconceivable object
as the Solar System, we yet, through the fidfilment of pre-
dictions founded on our symbolic conception of it, gain the

ULTIMATE RELIGIOUS IDEAS. 29

conviction that this symbolic conception stands for an actual
existence, and, in a sense, truly expresses certain of its
constituent relations. Thus our s}Tnbolic conceptions being
in the majority of cases capable of development into complete
ones, and in most other cases serving as steps to conclusions
which are proved valid by their correspondence with observa-
tion, we acquire a confirmed habit of dealing with them as
true conceptions — as real representations of actualities.
Learning by long experience that they can, if needful, be
verified, we are led habitually to accept them without verifi-
./cation. And thus we open the door to some which profess
f to stand for kiiown things, but which really stand for tilings
^ that cannot be known in any way.

To sum up, we must say of conceptions in general, that [j
they are complete only when the attributes of the objci't
conceived are of such number and kind that they can be.
ifepresented in consciousness so nearly at the same time as to ^
seem all present together ; that as the objects conceived
become larger and more complex, some of the attributes first
thought of fade from consciousness before the rest have been
represented, and the conception thus becomes imperfect ; that
when the size, complexity, or discreteness of the object
conceived becomes very great, only a small portion of its
attributes can be thought of at once, and the conception
formed of it thus becomes so inadequate as to be a mere sym-
bol ; that nevertheless such symbolic conceptions, which are
indispensable in general thinking, are legitimate, provided
j that by some cumulative or indirect process of thought, or by
{ ^Q fulfilment of predictions based on them, we can assure
I ourselves that they stand for actualities ; but that when our
symbolic conceptions are such that no cumulative or indirect
processes of thought can enable us to ascertain that there are
corresponding actualities, nor any predictions be made whoso
fulfilment can prove this, then they are altogether vicious and
Illusive, and in no way distinguishable from pure fictions.
3

80 ULTIMATE RELIGIOUS IDEAS.

§ 10. And now to consider the bearings of this general
truth on our immediate topic — Ultimate Religious Ideas.

To the mind as it develops in speculative power, the
problem of the Universe suggests itself. What is it ? and
whence comes it ? are questions that press for solution, when,
from time to time, the imagination rises above daily triviali-
ties. To fill the vacuum of thought, any theory that is
proposed seems better than none. And in the absence of
others, any theory that is proposed easily gains a footing and
afterwards maintains its ground : partly from the readiness of
mankind to accept proximate explanations ; partly from the
authority which soon accumulates round such explanations
when given.

A critical examination, however, will prove not only that
no current hypothesis is tenable, but also that no tenable
hypothesis can be framed.

§ 11. Respecting the origin of the Universe three verbally
intelligible suppositions may be made. We may assert that it
is self-existent ; or that it is self-created ; or that it is created
by an external agency. Which of these suppositions is most
credible it is not needful here to inquire. The deeper ques-
tion, into whicb this finally merges, is, whether any one of
them is even conceivable in the true sense of the word. Let
US' successively test them.

^yhen we speak of a man as self-supporting, of an appa-
ratus as self-acting, or of a tree as self-developed, our ex-
pressions, however inexact, stand for things that can bo
rc<alized in thought with tolerable completeness. Our con-
ception of the self-development of a tree is doubtless
symbolic. But though we cannot really represent in con-
sciousness the entire series of complex changes through which
the tree passes, yet we can thus represent the leading features
of the series ; and general experience teaches us that by long
continued observation we could gain the power to realize in
thought a series of changes more fully representing the actual

TTLTIMATE RELTGinUS IDEAfl. 31

series : that is, we know that our symbolic conception of self-
development can be expanded into something like a real
conception ; and that it expresses, however inaccurately, an
actual process in nature. But when we speak of self- exist-
ence, and, helped by the above analogies, form some vague 8}Tn-
bolic conception of it, we delude ourselves in supposing that
this symbolic conception is of the same order as the others. On
joining the word self to the word existence y the force of
association makes us believe we have a thought like that
suggested by the compound word self-acting. An endeavour
to expand this symbolic conception, however, will undeceive
us. In the first place, it is clear that by self- existence'*''***^

we especially" mean, an existence independent of any other — ^^
not produced by any other : the assertion of self-existence is^
simply an indirect denial of creation. In thus excluding the
idea of any antecedent cause, we necessarily exclude thc^ iden^*-
d' a beginning ; for to admit the idea of a beginning — to
admit that there was a time when the existence had not com-
menced— is to admit that its cormnencement was determined .
by something, or was caused ; which is a contradiction. Self-f
existence, therefore, necessarily means existence mthout a,
beginning ; and to form a conception of self-existence is to }
form a conception of existence without a beginning. Now bjr^/
no mental effort can we do this. To conceive existence
through iafinite past-time, implies the conception of infinite
p£ist-time, which is an impossibility. To this let us add,

that even were self-existence conceivable, it would not in any
sense be an explanation of the Universe. No one will say
that the existence of an object at the present moment is
made easier to understand by the discovery that it existed an
hour ago, or a day ago, or a year ago ; and if its existence
now is not made in the least degree more comprehensible by
its existence during some previous finite period o£» time, then
no accumulation of such finite periods, even could we extend
them to an infinite period, would make it more comprehensible. ,
Thus the Atheistic theory is not only absolutely unthinkable,

32 ULTIMATE RELIGIOUS IDEAS.

but, even if it were thinkable, would not be a solution. Tkc
assertion that the Universe is self-existent does not really carry
us a step beyond tlie cognition of its present existence ; and
80 leaves tls with a mere re-statement of the mystery.

The hypothesis of self-creation, which practically amounts
to what is called Pantheism, is similarly incapable of being
represented in thought. Certain phenomena, such as the
precipitation of invisible vapour into cloud, aid us in forming
a symbolic conception of a self-evolved Universe ; and there
are not wanting indications in the heavens, and on the earth,
which help us to render this conception tolerably definite.
But while the succession of phases through which the
Universe has passed in reaching its present form, may
perhaps be comprehended as in a sense self-determined ; yet
the impossibility of expanding our symbolic conception of self-
creation into a real conception, remains as complete as ever.
>^^eally to conceive self-creation, is to conceive potential
existence passiag into actual existence by some inherent
necessity ; which we cannot do. We cannot form

any idea of a potential existence of the universe, as dis-
tinguished from its actual existence. If represented in
thought at all, potential existence must be represented as
something, that is as an actual existence ; to suppose that it
can be represented as nothing, involves two absurdities —
that nothing is more than a negation, and can be positively
represented in thought; and that one nothing is distinguished
from all other nothings by its power to develope into some-
thing. Nor is this all. We have no state of conscious-,
iiess answering to the words — an inherent necessity by which
potential existence became actual existence. To render them
into thought, existence, having for an indefinite period re-
mained in one form, must be conceived as passing without
any external or additional impulse, into another form ; and
this involves the idea of a change Tsathout a cause— a thing
of which no idea is possible. Thus the terms of this hj-po-
thesis do not stand for real thoughts ; but merely suggest the

ULTIMATE RELIGIOUS IDEAS. 83

vaguest symbols incapable of any interpretation. More-

over, even were it true that potential existence is conceivable
as a different thing from actual existence ; and that the transi-
tion from the one to the other can be mentally realized as a
self-determined change ; we should still be no forwarder : the
problem would simply be removed a step back. For whence
the potential existence? This would just as much require
accounting for as actual existence ; and just the same difficul-
ties would meet us. Kespecting the origin of such, a latent
power, no other suppositions could be made than those above
named — self- existence, self-creation, creation by external
agency. The self-existence of a potential universe is no
more conceivable than we have found the self-existence of the
actual universe to be. The self-creation of such a potential
universe would involve over again the difficulties here
stated — would imply behind this potential imiverse a more
remote potentiality ; "and so on in an infinite series, leaving
us at last no forwarder than at first, "WTiile to assign as the
source of this potential universe an external agency, would be
to introduce the notion of a potential universe for no purpose
whatever.

There remains to be examined the commonly-received or

theistic hypothesis — creation by external agency. Alike in

the rudest creeds and in the cosmogony long current among

ourselves, it is assumed that the genesis of the Heavens and

the Earth, is effected somewhat after the manner in which a

workman shapes a piece of furniture. And this assumption

is made not by theologians only, but by the irmnense majority

of philosophers, past and present. Equally in the writings of

, Plato, and in those of not a few living men of science, we

/ find it taken for granted that there is an analogy between the

■N^rocess of creation and the process of manufacture. . "Now

in the first place, not only is this conception one that cannot

by any cumulative process of thought, or the fulfilment of

predictions based on it, be shown to answer to anything

actual ; and not only is it that in the absence of all evidence

34 ULTIMATE RELIGIOUS IDEAS.

respfecting the process of creation, we have no proof of eorre-
epondence even between this limited conception and some
limited portion of the fact; but it is that the conception
is not even consistent with itself — cannot be realized in
thought, when all its assumptions are granted. Though it is
true that the proceedings of a human artificer may vaguely
6}Tnbolize to us a method after which the Universe might ba
shaped, yet they do not help us to comprehend the real
mystery ; namely, the origin of the material of which the
Universe consists. The artizan does not make the iron, wood,
or stone, he uses ; but merely fashions and combines them.
If we suppose suns, and planets, and satellites, and all they
contain to have been similarly formed by a " Great Artificer,"
we suppose merely that certain pre-existing elements were
thus put into their present arrangement. Eut whence the
pre-existing elements ? The comparison helps us not in the
least to understand that ; and unless it helps us to understand
that, it is worthless. The ]groduction of matter out of nothing
is the real mystery, which neither this simile nor any other
enables us to conceive ; and a simile which does not enable us
^to conceive this, may just as well be dispensed with. StiU

more manifest does the insufiiciency of this theory of creation
become, when we turn from material objects to that which
contains them — when instead of matter we contemplate space.
Did there exist nothing but an immeasurable void, explanation
would be needed as much as now. There would still arise the
question — how came it so ? If the theory of creation by ex-
ternal agency were an adequate one, it would supply an
answer ; and its answer would be— space was made in the same
manner that matter was made. But the impossibility of con-
ceiving this is so manifest, that no one dares to assert it. For
if epape was created, it must have been previously non-existent.
The non-existence of space cannot, however, by any mental
efibrt be imagined. It is one of the most familiar truths that
the idea of space as surrounding us on all sides, is not for m mo-
ment to be got rid of— not only are wo compelled to think of

ULTIMATE RELIGIOUS IDEAS. 35

Space as now everywliere present, but we are unable to con-
ceive its absence either in the past or tbe future. And if tbe
uon-existence of space is absolutely inconceivable, tben, neces-
sarily, its creation is absolutely inconceivable. Lastly,
even supposing tbat the genesis of the Universe could really
be represented in tbougbt as the result of an external agency,
the mystery would be as great as ever ; for there would stiU

^,r arise the question — how came there to be an external agency ?

'^ To account for this only the same three hj^otheses are possible
— self-existence, self-creation, and creation by external agency.
Of these the last is useless : it commits us to an infinite series
of such agencies, and even then leaves us where we were. By
the second we are practically involved in the same predica-
ment ; since, as already shown, self-creation implies an infinite
series of potential existences. We are obhged therefore to fall
back upon the first, which is the one commonly accepted and
commonly supposed to be satisfactory. Those who cannot
conceive a self-existent universe ; and who therefore assume
a creator as the source of the universe ; take for granted that
they can conceive a self-existent creator. The mystery
which they recognize in this great fact surroimding them on
every side, they transfer to an alleged source of this great
fact ; and then suppose that they have solved the mystery.
But they delude themselves. As was proved at the outset of
the argument, self-existence is rigorously inconceivable ; and

^ this holds true whatever be the nature of the object of A\'hich

. — ^it is predicated. Whoever agrees that the atheistic li}^-
thesis is untenable because it involves the impossible idea of
self-existence, must perforce admit that the theistic hj^oo-
thesis is untenable if it contains the same impossible idea.

Thus these three difierent suppositions respecting the oiigiii
of things, verbally intelligible though they are, and severally
seeming to their respective adherents quite rational, turn out,
when critically examined, to be literally unthinkable. It is
not a question of probabiKty, or credibility, but of conceiv-
ability. Experiment proves that the elements of these hypo-

. CO

36 ULTIMATE RELIGIOUS IDEAS.

tlieses cannot even be put togetlier in consciousness ; and
we can entertain them only as we entertain such, pseud-ideas
as a square fluid and a moral substance — only by abstaining
from the endeavour to render them into actual thoughts.
Or, reverting to our original mode of statement, we may say
that they severally" involve symbolic conceptions of the illegiti^
mate and illusive kind. Differing so widely as they seem to
do, the atheistic, the pantheistic, and the thcistic hypotheses
contain the same ultimate element. It is impossible to avoid
aking the assumption of self-existence somewhere; and
whether that assumption be made nakedly, or under compli-
cated disguises, it is equally vicious, equally imthinkable. Be
it a fragment of matter, or some fancied potential form of
matter, or some more remote and still less imaginable cause,
our conception of its self-existence can be formed only by
joining with it the notion of unlimited duration through past
tune. And as unlimited duration is inconceivable, all those
formal ideas into which it enters are inconceivable ; and indeed,
if such an expression is allowable, are the more inconceivable
in proportion as the other elements of the ideas are indefinite.
So that in fact, impossible as it is to think of the actual uni-
verse as self- existing, we do but multiply impossibilities of
thought by every attempt we make to explain its existence.

^ % 12. If from the origin of the Universe we turn to its
nature, the like insurmountable difficulties rise up l^efore ua
on all sides — or rather, the same difficulties under new aspects.
We find ourselves on the one hand obliged to make certain
assumptions ; and yet on the other hand we find these assump-
tions cannot be represented in thought.

When we inquire what is the meaning of the various effects
produced upon our senses — when we ask how there come to
be in our consciousness impressions of sounds, of colours, of
tastes, and of those various attributes which we ascribe to
bodies ; we are compelled to regard them as the effects of
some cause. We may stop short in the beb'ef that this cause

ULTIMATE RELIGIOUS IDEAS. 37

is what we call matter. Or we may conclude, as some do, that
matter is only a certain mode of manifestation of spirit ;
wliich is therefore the true cause. Or, regarding matter and
epii'it as proximate agencies, we may attribute aU the changes
wrought in our consciousness to immediate divine power.
/^ut be the cause we assign what it may, we are obliged to
^uppose some cause. And we are not only obliged to suppose
some cause, but also a first cause. The matter, or spirit, or
whatever we assume to be the agent producing on us these
various impressions, must either be the first cause of them or
not. If it is the first cause, the conclusion is reached. If it
is not the first cause, then by implication there must be a
cause behind it^ which thus becomes the real cause of the
effect. Manifestly, however complicated the assumptions, the
same conclusion must inevitably be reached. We cannot
think at all about the impressions which the external world
produces on us, without thinking of them as caused ; and we
cannot carry out an inquiry concerning their causation, with-
out ine^dtably committing ourselves to the hj^othesis of a
First Cause.
. But now if we go a step further, and ask what is the nature
of this First Cause, we are driven by an inexorable logic to
certain further conclusions. Is the First Cause finite or in-
finite? If we say finite we involve ourselves in a dilemma.
To think of the First Cause as' finite, is to think of it as
limited. To think of it as limited, necessarily implies a con-
ception of something beyond its limits : it is absolutely im-
possible to conceive a thing as boimded without conceiving a
region surrormding its boundaries. • What now must we say of
this region ? If the First Cause is limited, and there conse-
quently lies something outside of it, this something must have
no First Cause — must be uncaused. But if we admit that there
can be something uncaused, there is no reason to assimie a cause
tor anything. If beyond that finite region over which the First
Cause extends, there lies a region, which we are compelled to
regard as infinite, over which it does not extend — if we admit

38 ULTIMATE RELIGIOUS IDEAS.-

that there is an infinite uncaused surrounding the finite caused;
we tacitly abandon the hypothesis of causation altogether. Thus
it is impossible to consider the First Cause as finite. And if
it cannot be finite it must be infinite.

Another inference concerning the First Cause is equally
unavoidable. It must be independent. If it is dependent it
cannot be the First Cause ; for that must be the First
Cause on which it depends. It is not enough to say that it is
partially independent; since this implies some necessity which
determines its partial dependence, and this necessity, be it
what it may, must be a higher cause, or the true First Cause,
which is a contradiction. But to think of the First Cause as
totally independent, is to think of it as that* which exists in
the absence of all other existence ; seeing that if the presence
of any other existence is necessary, it must be partially de-
pendent on that other existence, and so cannot be the First
Cause. Not only however must the First Cause be a form of
being which has no necessary relation to any other form of
bemg, but it can have no necessary relation within itself.
There can be nothing in it which determines change, and yet
nothmg which prevents change. For if it contains something
\>hieh imjoses such necessities or restraints, this something
must be a cause higher than the First Cause, which is absurd.
Thjus the First Cause must be in every sense perfect, complete,
total : including within itself all power, and transcending all
law. Ov to use the established word, it must be absolute.

Here then respecting the nature of the Universe, we seem
committed to certain unavoidable conclusions. The objects
and actions surrounding us, not less than the phenomena of
our own consciousness, compel us to ask a cause ; in our search
J for a cause, we discover no resting place until we arrive at the
li hypothesis of a First Cause ; and .we have no alternative but
to regard this First Cause as Infinite and Absolute. These
are inferences forced upon us by arguments from which there
appears no escape. It is hardly needful however to show
those who have followed thus far, how illusive are these

ULTIMATE RELIGIOUS IDEAS. 39

reasonings and their results. But tliat it wouid tax tho
reader's patience to no purpose, it miglit easily be proved
that tlie materials of which, the argument is built, equally
with the conclusions based on them, are merely symbolic con-
ceptions of the illegitimate order. Instead, however, of re-
peating the disproof used above, it will be desirable to pursue
another method ; showing the fallacy of these conclusions by
disclosing their mutual contradictions.

Here I cannot do better than avail myself of the demonstra-
tion which Mr Mansel, carrying out in detail the doctrine of
Sir WiUiam Hamilton, has given in his " Limits of E-eligious
Thought." And I gladly do this, not only because his mode
of presentation cannot be improved, but also because, writing
as he does in defence of the current Theology, his reasonings
wiU be the more acceptable to the majority of readers.

§ 13. Having given preliminary definitions of the First
Cause, of the Infinite, and of the Absolute, Mr Mansel says : —

" But these three conceptions, the Cause, the Absolute, the
Infinite, all equally indispensable, do they not imply contra-
diction to each other, when Aiewed in conjimction, as attributes
of one and the same Being ? A Cause cannot, as such, bo
absolute : the Absolute cannot, as such, be a cause. The cause,
as such, exists only in relation to its efiect : the cause is a
cause of the efiect ; the efiect is an effect of the cause. On
the other hand, the conception of the Absolute implies a possi-
ble existence out of all relation. "We attempt to escape from
this apparent contradiction, by introducing the idea of succes-
sion in time. The Absolute exists first by itself, and after-
wards becomes a Cause. But here we are checked by the
third conception, that of the Infinite. How can the Infinite
become that which it was not from the first ? If Causation ia
a possible mode of existence, that which exists without causing
is not infinite ; that which becomes a cause has passed beyond
its former limits." * * *

" Supposing the Absolute to become a cause, it will foUow

40 ULTIMATE RELIGIOUS IDEAS.

that it operates by means of freewill and consciousness. For
a necessary cause cannot be conceived as absolute and infinite.
If necessitated by something beyond itself, it is thereby limit-
ed by a superior power ; and if necessitated by itself, it has in
its own nature a necessary relation to its effect. The act of
causation must therefore be voluntary ; and volition is only
possible in a conscious being. But consciousness again is
only conceivable as a relation. 'There must be a conscious
subject, and an object of which he is conscious. The subject
is a subject to the object ; the object is an object to the sub-
ject ; and neither can exist by itself as the absolute. This
difficulty, again, may be for the moment evaded, by distin-
guishiQg between the absolute as related to another and the
absolute as related to itself. The Absolute, it may be said,
may possibly be conscious, provided it is only conscious of it-
self. But this alternative is, in ultimate analysis, no less self-
destructive than the other. For the object of consciousness,
whether a mode of the subject's existence or not, is either
created in and by the act of consciousness, or has an existence
independent of it. In the former case, the object depends
upon the subject, and the subject alone is the true absolute.
In the latter case, the subject depends upon the object, and
the object alone is the true absolute. Or if we attempt a third
hypothesis, and maintain that each exists independently of the
other, we have no absolute at all, but only a pair of relatives ;
for coexistence, whether in consciousness or not, is itself a
relation."

" The corollary from this reasoning is obvious. Not only
is the Absolute, as conceived, incapable of a necessary relation
10 anythiQg else; but it is also incapable of containing, by
the constitution of its own nature, an essential relation with-
in itself ; as a whole, for instance, composed of parts, or as a
substance consisting of attributes, or as a conscious subject
LQ antithesis to an object. For if there is in the absolute any
principle of unity, distinct from the mere accimiidation of
parts or attributes, this principle alone is the true absolute.

ULTIMATE RELIGIOUS IDEAS. 41

If, on the other hand, there is no such principle, then there is
MO absolute at all, but only a plurality of relatives. The
almost unanimous voice of philosophy, in pronouncing that
the absolute is both one and simple, must be accepted as the
voice of reason also, so far as reason has any voice in the
matter. But this absolute unity, as indifferent and contain-
ing no attributes, can neither be distinguished from the multi-
plicity of finite beings by any characteristic feature, nor be
identified with them in their iliultiplicity. Thus we are land-
ed in an inextricable dilemma. The Absolute cannot be con-
ceived as conscious, neither can it be conceived as unconscious :
it cannot be conceived as complex, neither can it be conceived
as simple : it cannot be conceived by difference, neither can it
be conceived by the absence of difference : it cannot be iden-
tified with the universe, neither can it be distinguished from
it. The One and the Many, regarded as the beginning of
existence, are thus alike incomprehensible."

" The fundamental conceptions of Rational Theology being
thus self- destructive, we may naturally expect to find the same^
antagonism manifested in their special applications. * * *
How, for example, can Infinite Power be able to do all things,
and yet Infinite Goodness be unable to do evil ? How can In-
finite Justice exact the utmost penalty for every sin, and yet
Infinite Mercy pardon the sinner ? How can Infinite Wisdom
know all that is to come, and yet Infinite Freedom be at liberty
to do or to forbear ? • How is the existence of Evil compatible
with that of an infinitely perfect Being ; for if he wills it, he
is not infinitely good ; and if he wiUs it. not, his will is
thwarted and his sphere of action limited ? " * * *

" Let us, however, suppose for an instant that these difficul-
ties are surmounted, and the existence of the Absolute securely
established on the testimony of reason. Still we have not
succeeded in reconciling this idea with that of a Cause : we
have done nothing towards explaining how the absolute can
give rise to the relative, the infinite to the finite. If the con-
dition of causal activity is a higher state than that of qui-

45 ULTIMATE RELIGIOUS IDEAS.

escenoe, tlie Absolute, wliether acting. voluntarily or involun-
tarily, has passed from a condition of comparative imperfection
to one of comparative perfection ; and therefore was not
originally perfect. If the state of activity is an inferior state
to that o£ quiescence, the Absolute, in becoming a cause, has
lost its original perfection. There remains only the supposi-
tion that the two states are equal, and the act of creation one of
complete indifference. But this supposition annihilates the
unity of the absolute, or it annihilates itself. If the act of
creation is real, and yet indifferent, we must admit the possi-
bility of two conceptions of the absolute, the one as productive,
the other as non-productive. If the act is not real, the sup-
position itself vanishes." * * *

" Again, how can the relative be conceived as coming into
being ? If it is a distinct reality from the absolute, it must be
conceived as passing from non-existence into existence.' But
to conceive an object as non-existent, is again a self-contradic-
tion ; for that which is conceived exists, as an object of thought,
in and by that conception. We may abstain from thinking of
an object at all ; but, if we think of it, we cannot but think of
it as existing. It is possible at one time not to thiuk of an
object at all, and at another to think of it as already in being ;
but to think of it in the act of becoming, in the progress from
not being into being, is to think that which, in the very
thought, annihilates itself." * * *

,t "To sum up briefly this portion of my argument. The
c onception of the Absolute and Infinite, from whatever side we
view it, appears encompassed with contradictions. There is
a contradiction in supposing such an object to exist, whether
alone or in conjunction with others ; and there is a contradic-
tion in supposing it not to exist. There is a contradiction in
conceiving it as one ; and there is a contradiction in conceiv-
ing it as many. There is a contradiction in conceiving it as
personal ; and there is a contradiction in conceiving it as im-
personal. It cannot, without contradiction, be rej)resented as
active ; nor, without equal contradiction, be represented as

ULTIMATE RELIGIOUS IDEAS. 43

Inactive. It cannot be conceived as the sum of all existence ;
nor yet can it be conceived as a part only of that sum."

§ 14. And now wbat is tbe bearing of these results on tlie
question before us ? Our examination of Ultimate Keligious
Ideas has been carried on with the view of making manifest
some fundamental verity contained in them. Thus far how-
ever we have arrived at negative conclusions only. Criti-
cising the essential conceptions involved in the different
orders of beliefs, we find no one of them to be logically
defensible. Passing over the consideration of credibility, and
confining ourselves to that of conceivability, we see that
Atheism, Pantheism, and Theism, when rigorously analysed,
severally prove to be absolutely unthinkable. Instead of
disclosing a fundamental verity existing in each, our invest-
igation seems rather to have shown that there is no fund-
amental verity contained in any. To carry away this
conclusion, however, would be a fatal error; as we shaU
shortly see.

Leaving out the accompanying moral code, which is in aUJt \
cases a supplementary growthj a religious creed is definable
as a theory of original causation. By the lowest savages . j
the genesis of things is not inquired about ; anomalous ap- ! /
2^earances alone raise the question of agency. But be it in
the primitive Ghost- theory which assumes a human person-
ality behind each unusual phenomenon ; be it in Polytheism,
in which these personalities are partially generalized ; be it
in Monotheism, in which they are wholly generalized ; or be
it in Pantheism, in which the generalized personality becomes
one with the phenomena; we equally find an hypothesis
which is supposed to render the Universe comprehensible.
Kay, even that which is commonly regarded as the negation
of all Religion — even positive Atheism, comes within the
definition; for it, too, in asserting the self-existence of Space,
Matter, and Motion, which it regards as adequate causes of
every appearance, propounds an d priori theory from which

il ULTIMATE RELIGIOUS IDEAS.

it holds the facts to be deducible. Now every theory tacitly
■Asserts two things : firstly, that there is something to be
explained ; secondly, that such and such is the explanation.
Hence, however widely different speculators may disagree in
the solutions they give of the same problem ; yet by implica-
tion they agree that there is a problem to be solved. Hero
then is an element which all creeds have in common. Reli-
gions diametrically opposed in their overt dogmas, are
yet perfectly at one in the tacit conviction that the exist-
ence of the world with all it contains and all which surrounds
it, is a mystery ever pressing for interpretation. On this
point, if on no other, there is entire unanimity.

Thus we come within sight of that which we seek. In the
last chapter, reasons were given for inferring that human
beliefs in general, and especially the perennial ones, contain,
Under whatever disguises of error, some soul of truth; and
here we have arrived at a truth underlying even the grossest
superstitions. We saw further that this soul of truth was
most likely to be some constituent common to conflicting
opinions of the same order ; and here we have a constituent
which may be claimed alilie by all religions. It was pointed
out that this soul of truth would almost certainly be more
abstract than anj'- of the beliefs involving it ; and the truth
we have arrived at is one exceeding in abstractness the most
abstract religious doctrines. In every respect, therefore, our
conclusion answers to the requirements. It has all the
characteristics which we inferred must belong to that funda-
mental verity expressed by religions in general.

That this is the vital clement in all religions is further
proved by the fact, that it is the clement which not only survives
every change, but grows more distinct the more highly the
religion is developed. Aboriginal creeds, though pervaded
by the idea of personal agencies which are usually unseen,
yet conceive these agencies under perfectly concrete and
ordinary forms — class them with the visible agencies of men
B.nd animals ; and so hide a vague perception of mystery in

ULTIMATE RELIGIOUS IDEAS. 45

iisguises as unmysterious as possible. Tlie Polytlieistic con-
ceptions in their advanced phases, represent the presiding
personalities in greatly idealized shapes, existing in a remote
region, working in subtle ways, and communicating with men
by omens or through inspired persons ; that is, the ultimate
causes of things are regarded as less familiar and compre-
hensible. The growth of a Monotheistic faith, accompanied
as it is by a denial of those beliefs in which the divine nature
is assimilated to the human in all its lower propensities, shows
us a further step in the same direction ; and however imper-
fectly this higher faith is at first realized, we yet see in altars
" to the unknown and unknowable God," and in the worship
of a God that cannot by any searching be found out, that
there is a clearer recognition of the inscrutableness of creation.
Further developments of theology, ending in such assertions
as that " a^God understood would be no God at all," and " to
think that God is, as we can think him to be, is blasphemy,"
exhibit this recognition still more distinctly ; and it pervades
all the cultivated theology of the present day. Thus while
other constituents of religious creeds one by one drop away,
this remains and grows even more manifest ; and so is shown
to be the essential constituent.

Nor does the evidence end here. Not only is the omni-
presence of something which passes comprehension, that most
abstract belief which is common to all religions, which be-
comes the more distinct in proportion as they develope, and
which remains after their discordant elements have been
mutually cancelled ; but it is that beKef which the most im-
sparing criticism of each leaves imquestionable — or rather
makes ever clearer. It has nothing to fear from the most
inexorable logic ; but on the contrary is a belief which the
most inexorable logic shows to be more profoundly true than
any religion supposes. For every religion, setting out though
it does with the tacit assertion of a mystery, forthwith pro-
ceeds to give some solution of this mystery ; and so asserts
that it is not a mystery passing human comprehension. But

iO ULTIMATE RELIGIOUS IDEAS.

an examination of the solutions they severally propound,
shows them to be uniformly invalid. The analysis of every
possible hypothesis proves, not simply that no hjrpothesis is
sufficient, but that no hjqDothesis is even thinkable. And
thus the mystery which all religions recognize, turns out to
be a far more transcendent mystery than any of them suspect
— ^not a relative, but an absolute mystery.

Here, then, is an ultimate religious truth of the highest
possible certainty — a truth in* which religions in general are
at one with each other, and with a philosophy antagonistic
to their special dogmas. And this truth, respecting which
there is a latent agreement among all mankind from the
fetish- worshipper to the most stoical critic of human creeds,
must be the one we seek. If Beligion and Science are to be
reconciled, the basis of reconciliation must be this deepest,
widest, and most certain of all facts — that the Ppwer which
the Universe manifests to us is utterly inscrutable.

CHAPTEll III.

ULTIMATE SCIENTIFIC IDEAS.

§ 15. What are Space and Time ? Two hypotheses are
current respecting them : the one that they are objective, and
the other that they are subjective — the one that they are
external to, and independent of, ourselves, the other that
they are internal, and appertain to our own consciousness.
Let us see what becomes of these hj-potheses under analysis.

To say that Space and Time exist objectively, is to say that
they are entities. The assertion that they are non-entities is
self-destructive : non-entities are non-existences; and to allege
that non-existences exist objectively, is a contradiction in
terms. Moreover, to deny that Space and Time are things,
and so by implication to call them nothings, involves the
absurdity that there are two kinds of nothing. Neither can
they be regarded as attributes of some entity ; seeing, not
only that it is impossible really to conceive any entity of
which they are attributes, but seeing further that we cannot
think of them as disappearing, even if everything else disap-
peared ; whereas attributes necessarily disappear along with
the entities they belong to. Thus as Space and Time cannot
be either non-entities, nor the attributes of entities, "jjre have
I no choice but consider them as entities. But while, on

I the hypothesis of their objectivity. Space and Time must be
/ classed as tilings, we find, on experiment, that to represent
them in thought as things is impossible. To be conceived
at all, a thing must be conceived as having attributes. We

48 ULTIMATE SCIENTIFIC IDEAS.

can distinguisli sometliing from nothing, only by tlie power
which the something has to act on our consciousness; the
several affections it produces on our consciousness (or else the
hypothetical causes of them), we attribute to it, and call
its attributes; and the absence of these attributes is the
absence of the terms in which the something is conceived,
and involves the absence of a conception. What now are the
attributes of Space ? The only one which it is possible for a
moment to think of as belonging to it, is that of extension ;
and to credit it with this implies a confusion of thought.
For extension and Space are convertible terms : by extension,
as we ascribe it to surrounding objects, we mean occupancy
of Space ; and thus to say that Space is extended, is to say
that Space occupies Space. How we are similarly unable
to assign any attribute to Time, scarcely needs pointing
out. Nor are Time and Space imthinkable as entities

only from the absence of attributes ; there is another peculi-
arity, familiar to readers of metaphysics, which equally ex-
cludes them from the category. All entities which we actually
know as such, are limited ; and even if we suppose ourselves
either to know or to be able to conceive some unlimited
entity, we of necessity in so classing it positively separate it
from the class of limited entities. But of Space and Time
we cannot assert either limitation or the absence of limitation.
"VVe find ourselves totally unable to form any mental image of
unbounded Space ; and yet totally unable to imagine bounds
beyond which there is no Space. Similarly at the other
extreme : it is impossible to think of a limit to the divisi-
bility of Space ; yet equally impossible to tnink of its infinite
divisibility. And, without stating them, it will be seen that wo
labour under like impotencies in respect to Time. Thus

we cannot conceive Space and Time as entities, and are
equally disabled from conceiving them as either the attributes
of entities or as non-entities. We are compelled to think^ oi
them as existing ; and yet cannot bring them within those
conditions under which existences are represented in thought.

ULTIMATE SCIENTIFIC IDEAS. 49

Shall we then take refuge in the Kantian doctrine ? shall
we say that Space and Time are forms of the intellect, — " d
priori laws or conditions of the conscious mind" ? To do this
is to escape from great difficulties by rushing into greater.
The proposition ^vith. which. Kant's philosophy sets out,
verbally intelligible tliougb it is, cannot by any effort bo
rendered into thought — cannot be interpreted into an idea
properly so called, but stands merely for a pseud-idea. In

the first place, to assert that Space and Time, as we are con-
scious of them, are subjective conditions, is by implication
to assert that they are not objective realities : if the Space
and Time present to our minds belong to the ego, then of
neccessity they do not belong to the non-ego. Now it is abso-
lutely impossible to think this. The very fact* on which
Kant bases his hypothesis — namely that our consciousness of
Space and Time cannot be suppressed — testifies as mucb ; for
that consciousness of Space and Time which we cannot rid
ourselves of, is the consciousness of them as existing ob-
jectively. It is useless to reply that such an inability must
incA^tably result if they are subjective forms. The question
here is — ^What does consciousness directly testify ? And the
direct testimony of consciousness is, that Time and Space are
not within but without the mind ; and so absolutely independ-
ent of it that they cannot be conceived to become non-existent
even were the mind to become non-existent. Besides

being positively imthinkable in what it tacitly denies,
the theory of Kant is equally unthinkable in what it openly
affiiTQS. It is not simply that we cannot combine the thought
of Space with the thought of our own personality, and con-
template the one as a property of the other — though our
inability to do this would prove the inconceivableness of the
h3^othesis — but it is that the hypothesis carries in itself the
proof of its own inconceivableness. For if Space and Time
are forms of thought, they can never be thought of; since it
is impossible for anything to be at once the form of thought
and the matter of thought. That Space and Time arc ob-

50 ULTIMATE SCIENTIFIC IDEAS.

jects of consciousness, Kant cmpliatically asserts by sa\Hng
that it is impossible to suppress tbe consciousness of tbem.
How then, if they arc objects of consciousness, can they at the
same time be conditions of consciousness ? If Space and Time
are the conditions under which we think, then when we think
of Space and Time themselves, our thoughts must be uncon-
ditioned ; and if there can thus be unconditioned thoughts,
what becomes of the theory ?

It results therefore that Space and Time are wholly in-
comprehensible. The immediate knowledge which we seem
to have of them, proves, when examined, to be total ignor-
ance. While our belief in their objective reality is in-
surmountable, we are unable to give any rational account
of it. Arid to posit the alternative belief (possible to state
but impossible to realize) is merely to multiply irrationali-
ties.

§ 16. Were it not for the necessities of the argimient, it
would be inexcusable to occupy the reader's attention with
the threadbare, and yet unended, controversy respecting the
divisibility of matter. Matter is either infinitely divisible or
it is not : no third possibility can be named. Which of the
alternatives shall we accept ? If "v^e say that Matter is in-
finitely divisible, we commit ourselves to a supposition not
realizable in thought. We can bisect and re-bisect a body,
and continually repeating the act until we reduce its parts to
a size no longer physically divisible, may then mentally con-
tinue the process without limit. To do this, however, is not
really to conceive the infinite divisibility of matter, but to form
a s5rmbolic conception incapable of expansion into a real one,
and not admitting of other verification. Really to conceive
the infinite divisibility of matter, is mentally to follow out the
divisions to infinity ; and to do this would rce][uire infinite
time. On the other hand, to assert that matter is not
infinitely divisible, is to assert that it is reducible to parts
which no conceivable power can divide ; and thifl verbal

ULTIMATE SCIENTIFIC IDEAS. 51

supposition can no more be represented in thonglit than the
other. For each of such ultimate parts, did they exist, must
have an under and an upper surface, a right and a left side,
like any larger fragment. Now it is impossible to imagine
its sides so near that no plane of section can be conceived be-
tween them; and however great be the assumed force of
cohesion, it is impossible to shut out the idea of a greater
force capable of overcoming it. So that to human intelli-
gence the one hypothesis is no more acceptable than the
other ; and yet the conclusion that one or other must agree
with the fact, seems to human intelligence unavoidable.

Again, leaving this insoluble question, let us ask whether
substance has, in reality, anything like that extended solidity
which it presents to our consciousness. The portion of space
occupied by a piece of metal, seems to eyes and fingers per-
fectly filled : we perceive a homogeneous, resisting mass,
without any breach of continuity. Shall we then say that
Matter is as actually solid as it appears ? Shall we say that
whether it consists of an infinitely divisible element or of
ultimate units incapable of further division, its parts are
everywhere in actual contact ? To assert as much entangles
us in insuperable difficulties. Were Matter thus absolutely
solid, it would be, what it is not — absolutely incompressible ;
since compressibility, implying the nearer approach of con-
stituent parts, is not thinkable unless there is unoccupied
space between the parts. 'Nov is this all. It is an estab-
b'shed mechanical truth, that if a body, moving at a given
velocity, strikes an equal body at rest in such wise that the
two move on together, their joint velocity will be but half
that of* the striking body. Now it is a law of which the
negation is inconceivable, that in passing from any one
degree of magnitude to any other, all intermediate degrees
must be passed through. Or, in the case before us, a body
moving at velocity 4, cannot, by collision, be reduced to
velocity 2, without passing through all velocities between 4
and 2. But were Matter truly ooUd — were its units abso

62 ULTIMATE SCIENTIFIC IDEAS.

lutely incompressible and in absolute contact — this " law 0/
continuity," as it is called, would be broken in every case
of collision. For when, of two sucli units, one moving at
velocity 4 strikes another at rest, tlie striking unit must have
its velocity 4 instantaneously reduced to velocity 2; must
pass from velocity 4 to velocity 2 without any lapse of time,
and without passing through intermediate velocities ; must be
moving with velocities 4 and 2 at the same instant, which is
impossible.

The supposition that Matter is absolutely solid being
untenable, there presents itself the Newtonian supposition,
that it consists of solid atoms not in contact but acting on
each other by attractive and repulsive forces, varying with
the distances. To assume this, however, merely shifts the
difficulty : the problem is simply transferred from the aggre-
gated masses of matter to these hypothetical atoms. Foi
granting that Matter, as we perceive it, is made up of such dense
extended units surrounded by atmospheres of force, the
question still arises — What is the constitution of these units ?
We have no alternative but to regard each of them as a
small piece of matter. Looked at through a mental micro-
scope, each becomes a mass of substance such as we have just
been contemplating. Exactly the same inquiries may be
made respecting the parts of which each atom consists ; while
exactly the same difficulties stand in the way of every answer.
And manifestly, even were the hypothetical atom assumed to
consist of still minute? ones, the difficulty would re-appear at
tlie next step ; nor could it be got rid of even by an infinite
scries of such assimaptions.

Boscovich's conception yet remains to us. Seeing that
Matter could not, as Leibnitz suggested, be composed of mi-
oxtended monads (since the juxta-position of an infinity of
points having no extension, could not produce that extension
which, matter possesses) ; and perceiving objections to the
view entertained by Newton ; Boscovich proposed an inter-
mediate theory, uniting, as he considered, the advantages of

ULTIMATE SCIENTIFIC IDEAS. t)ti

both and avoiding their difficulties. His theory is, {hat the
constituents of Matter are centres of force — points without
dimensions, which attract and repel each other in such wise as
to be kept at specific distances apart. And he argues, ma-
thematically, that the forces possessed by such centres might
BO vary with the distances, that under given conditions the
centres would remain in stable equilibrium with definite
interspaces ; and yet, under other conditions, would maintain
larger or smaller interspaces. This speculation however,
ingeniously as it is elaborated, and eluding though it does
various difficulties, posits a proposition which cannot by any
effi)rt be represented in thought : it escapes all the inconceiv-
abilities above indicated, by merging them in the one
inconceivability with which it sets out. A centre of force
absolutely without extension is unthinkable : answering t(^
these words we can form nothing more than a symbolic con-
ception of the illegitimate order. The idea of resistance
cannot be separated in thought from the idea of an extended
body which ofiers resistance. To suppose that central forces
can reside in points not infinitesimally small but occupying
no space whatever — points having position only, with nothing
to mark their position — points in no respect distinguishable
from the surrounding points that are not centres of force ; — to
suppose this, is utterly beyond human power.

Here it may possibly be said, that though all hj^pothescs
respecting the constitution of Matter commit us to inconceiv-
able conclusions when logically developed, yet we have
reason to think that one of them corresponds with the fact.
Though the conception of Matter as consisting of dense indi-
visible units, is symbolic and incapable of being completely
thought out, it may yet be supposed to find indirect verifica-
tion in the truths of chemistry. These, it is argued, necessi-
tate the belief that Matter consists of particles of specific
weights, and therefore of specific sizes. The general law of
definite proportions seems impossible on any other condition
than the existence of ultimate atoms ; and though the com-
4

54 ULTIMATE SCTENTinC n:>EAS.

billing weights of the respective elements are termed by
chemists their "'equivalents," for the purpose of avoiding a
questionable assumption, we are unable to think of the combina-
tion of such definite weights, without supposing it to take
place between definite numbers of definite particles. And
thus it would appear that the Newtonian view is at any rate
preferable to that of Boscovich. A disciple of Bosco-

vich, however, may reply that his master's theory is in-
volved in that of Newton; and cannot indeed be escaped.
" What," he may ask, " is it that holds together the parts
of these ultimate atoms?" "A cohesive force," his oppo-
nent must answer. "And what," he may continue, "is it
that holds together the parts of any fragments into
which, by sufficient force, an ultimate atom might be
Jbroken?" Again the answer must be — a cohesive force.
" And what," he may still ask, " if the ultimate atom were,
as we can imagine it to be, reduced to parts as small in pro-
portion to it, as it is in proportion to a tangible mass of
matter — what must give each part the ability to sustain itself,
and to occupy space ? " Still there is no answer but — a cohe-
sive force. Carry the process in thought as far as we may,
until the extension of the parts is less than can be imagined,
we still cannot escape the admission of forces by which the
extension is upheld; and we can find no limit until we
arrive at the conception of centres of force without any
L extension.

Matter then, in its ultimate nature, is as absolutely incom-
prehensible as Space and Time. Frame what suppositions we
may, we find on tracing out their implications that they leave
us nothing but a choice between opposite absurdities. -

§ 17. A body impelled by the hand is clearly perceived to
move, and to move in a definite direction : there seems ai first
sight no possibility of doubting that its motion is real, or that
it is towards a given point. Yet it is easy to show that wo
not only may be, but usually are, quite wrong in both these

ULTIMATE SCIENTIFIC IDEAS. 55

judgments. Here, for instance, is a sliip which, for simpli-
city's sake, we will suppose to be anchored at the equate?
with her head to the "West. When the captain walks from
stem to stem, in what direction does he move ? East is the
obvious answer — an answer which for the moment may pass
without criticism. But now the anchor is heaved, and the
vessel sails to the West with a velocity equal to that at which
the captain walks. In what direction does he now move
when he goes from stem to stern? You cannot say East, for
the vessel is carrying him as fast towards the West as he
walks to the East ; and you cannot say West for the converse
reason. In respect to surrounding space he is stationary ;
though to all on board the ship he seems to be moving. But
now are we quite sure of this conclusion? — Is he really station-
ary ? When we take into account the Earth's motion romid.
its axis, we find that instead of being stationary he is travel-
ling at the rate of 1000 miles per hour to the East ; so that
neither the perception of one who looks at him, nor the infer-
ence of one who allows for the ship's motion, is anything like
the truth. Nor indeed, on further consideration, shall we find
this revised conclusion to be much better. For we have for-
gotten to allow for the Earth's motion in its orbit. This
being some 68,000 miles per hour, it follows that, assuming
the time to be midday, he is moving, not at the rate of 1000
miles per hour to the East, but at the rate of 67,000 miles per
hour to the West. Nay, not even now have we discovered
the true rate and the true direction of his movement. With
the Earth's progress in its orbit, we have to join that of the
whole Solar system towards the constellation Hercules ; and
when we do this, we perceive that he is moving neither East
nor West, but in a line inclined to the plane of the Ecliptic,
and at a velocity greater or less (according to the time of the
year) than that above* named. To which let us add, that
were the dynamic arrangements of our sidereal system fully
known to us, we should j)robably discover the direction and
rate of his actual movement to difier considerably even from

56 ULTIMATE SCIENTIFIC IDEAS.

these. How illusive are our ideas of Motion, is tlius made

sufficiently manifest. That wliicli seems moving proves to be
stationary ; that which seems stationary proves to be moving;
while that which we conclude to be going rapidly in one
direction, turns out to be going much more rapidly in the
opposite direction. And so we are taught that what we are
conscious of is not the real motion of any object, either in its
rate or direction ; but merely its motion as measured from an
assigned position — either the position we ourselves occupy or
some other. Yet in this very process of concluding that the
motions we perceive are not the real motions, we tacitly
assume that there are real motions. In revising our success-
ive judgments concerning a body's course or velocity, we take
for granted that there is an actual course and an actual
velocity — we take for granted that there are fixed points in
space with respect to which all motions are absolute ; and we
find it impossible to rid ourselves of this idea. Nevertheless,
absolute motion cannot even be imagined, much less knoTVTi.
Motion as taking place apart from those limitations of space
which we habitually associate with it, is totally imthinkable.
For motion is change of place ; but in unlimited space, change
of place is inconceivable, because place itself is inconceivable.
Place can be conceived only by reference to other places; and
m the absence of objects dispersed through space, a place
could be conceived only in relation to the limits of space ;
whence it follows that in unlimited space, place cannot be
conceived — all places must be equidistant from boundaries
r that do not exist. Thus while we are obliged to think that
\ there is an absolute motion, we find absolute motion incom-
I prehensible.

Another insuperable difficulty presents itself when wo
contemplate the transfer of Motion. Habit blinds us to the
marvelousness of this phenomenon. Familiar with the fact
from childhood, we see nothing remarkable in the ability of a
moving thing to generate movement in a thing that ia
Btationaiy. It is, however, impossible to understand it. In

•ULXIMATE SCIENTIFIC IDEAS. 57

wliat respect does a body after impact differ from itself before
impact ? Wliat is tbis added to it wbicb does not sensibly
affect any of its properties and yet enables it to traverse
space ? Here is an object at rest and here is the same object
moving. In the one state it has no tendency to change its
place ; but in the other it is obliged at each instant to assume
a new position. What is it which will for ever go on pro-
ducing this effect without being exhausted ? and how does it
dwell in the object? The motion you say has been com-
municated. But how ? — "What has been communicated ?
The striking body has not transferred a thing to the body
struck ; and it is equally out of the question to say that it
has transferred an attribute. What then has it transferred ?
Once more there is the old puzzle concerning the connexion
between Motion and Rest. We daily witness the gradual
retardation and final stoppage of things projected from the
hand or otherwise impelled ; and we equally often witness
the change from Rest to Motion produced by the application
of force. But truly to represent these transitions in thought,
we find impossible. For a breach of the law of continuity
seems necessarily involved; and yet no breach of it is con-
ceivable. A body travelling at a given velocity cannot be
brought to a state of rest, or no velocity, wdthout passing
through all intermediate velocities. At first sight nothing
seems easier than to imagine it doing this. It is quite possi-
ble to think of its motion as diminishing insensibly until
it becomes infinitesimal ; and many will think equally possi-
ble to pass in thought from infinitesimal motion to no
motion. But this is an error. Mentally follow out the
decreasing velocity as long as you please, and there still
remains some velocity. Halve and again halve the rate of
movement for ever, yet movement still exists ; and the small-
est movement is separated by an impassable gap from no
movement. As something, however minute, is infinitely
great in comparison with nothing ; so is even the least con-
ceivable motion, infinite as compared with rest. The

68 ULTIMATE SCIENTIFIC IDEAS.

converse perplexities attendant on the transition from Eest to
Motion, need not be specified. These, equally with the forego-
ing, show us that though we- are obliged to think of such
changes as actually occurring, their occurrence cannot be
realized.

Thus neither when considered in connexion with Space,
nor when considered in connexion with Matter, nor when
considered in connexion with Eest, do we find that Motion is
truly cognizable. All efibrts to understand its essential
nature do but bring us to alternative impossibilities ol
thought.

§ 18. On lifting a chair, the force exerted we regard as
equal to that antagonistic force called the weight of the
chair ; and we cannot think of these as equal without think-
ing of them as like in kind ; since equality is conceivable only
between things that are connatural. The axiom that action
and reaction are equal and in opposite directions, commonly
exemplified by this very instance of muscular efibrt versus
weight, cannot be mentally realized on any other condition.
Yet, contrariwise, it is incredible that the force as existing in
the chair really resembles the force as present to our minds.
• It scarcely needs to point out that the .weight of the chair
produces in us various feelings according as we support it by a
single finger, or the whole hand, or the leg ; and hence
to argue that as it cannot be like all these sensations there is
no reason to believe it like any. It suffices to remark that
since the force as known to us is an afiection of consciousness,
we cannot conceive the force existing in the chair under tjie
same form without endowing the chair with consciousness.
So that it is absurd to think of Force as in itself like our
sensation of it, and yet necessary so to think of it if wo
realize it in consciousness at all.

How, again, can we understand the connexion between
Force and Matter ? Matter is known to us only through its
manifestations of Force : our ultimate test of Matter is the

TfLTlMATE SCIENTIFIC IDEAS. * 59

ability to resist : abstract its resistance and tbere remaina
nothing but empty extension. Yet, on tlie otber band, resist-
ance is equally unthinkable apart from Matter — apart from
something extended. Not only, as pointed out some pages
back, are centres of force devoid of extension unimaginable ;
but, as an inevitable corollary, we cannot imagine either
extended or unextended centres of force to attract and repel
other such centres at a distance, without the intermediation
of some kind of matter. We have here to remark, what
could not without anticipation be remarked when treating of
Matter, that the hj^othesis of Newton, equally with that of
Boscovich, is open to the charge that it supposes one thing to
act upon another through a space which is absolutely empty
— a supposition which cannot be represented in thought.
This charge is indeed met by the introduction of a hypotheti-
cal fluid existing between the atoms or centres. But the
problem is not thus solved : it is simply shifted, and re- appears
when the constitution of this fluid is inquii'ed into. How

impossible it is to elude the difficulty presented by the transfer
of Force through space, is best seen in the case of astronomical
forces. The Sun acts upon us in such way as to produce the
sensations of light and heat; and we have ascertained that
between the cause as existing in the Sun, and the efiect as
experienced on the Earth, a lapse of about eight minutes
occurs : whence imavoidably result in us, the conceptions of
both a force and a motion. So that for the assumption of a
luminiferous ether, there is the defence, not only that the
exercise of force through 95,000,000 of miles of absolute
vacuum is inconceivable, but also that it is impossible to con-
ceive motion in the absence of something moved. Similarly
in the case of gravitation. Newton described himself as
unable to think that the attraction of one body for another at
a distance, could be exerted in the absence of an intervening
medium. But now let us ask how much the forwarder we
are if an intervening medium be assumed. This ether whose
undulations according to the received h^^othesis constitute

60 ULTIMATE SCIENTIFIC IDEAS.

heat and light, and which is the vehicle of gravitation — how
is it constituted ? We must regard it, in the way that phy-
sicists do regard it, as composed of atoms which attract and
repel each other — infinitesimal it may be in comparison with
those of ordinary matter, but still atoms. And remcmbeiing
that this ether is iniiponderable, we are obliged to conclude
that the ratio between the interspaces of these atoms and the
atoms themselves, is incommensurably greater than the like
ratio in ponderable matter ; else the densities could not bo
incommensurable. Instead then of a direct action by the Sun
upon the Earth without anything intervening, we have to
conceive the Sun's action propagated through a medium
whose molecules are probably as small relatively to their inter-
spaces as are the Sun and Earth compared with the space
between them : we have to conceive these infinitesimal mole-
cules acting on each other through absolutely vacant spaces
which are immense in comparison with their own dimensions.
How is this conception easier than the other ? "We still have
mentally to represent a body as acting where it is not, and ia
the absence of anything by which its action may be transfer-
red ; and what matters it whether this takes place on a large
or a small scale ? We see therefore that the exercise of

Force is altogether unintelligible. We cannot imagine it
except through the instrumentality of something having
extension ; and yet when we have assumed this somethiag,
we find the perplexity is not got rid of but only postponed.
We are obliged to conclude that matter, whether ponderable
or imponderable, and whether aggregated or in its hypotheti -
cal units, acts upon matter through absolutely vacant space ;
and yet this conclusion is positively unthinkable.

Yet another difficulty of conception, converse in naturo
but equally insurmountable, must be added. If, on the
one hand, we cannot in thought see matter acting upon
matter through a vast interval of space which is absolutely
void ; on the other hand, that the gravitation of one particle
of matter towards another, and towards all others, should

ULllMATE SCIENTIFIC IDEAS. 61

be absolutely tbe same wbetlier tlie intervening space is
filled with, matter or not, is incomprebensible. I lift from
the ground, and continue to hold, a pound weight. Now
into the vacancy between it and tlie ground, is in-
troduced a mass of matter of any kind wbatever, in any
state whatever — ^hot or cold, liquid or solid, transparent or
opaque, light or dense ; and the gravitation of the weight
is entirely unaffected. The whole Earth, as well as eacli
individual of the infinity of particles composing the
Earth, acts on tlie pound in absolutely the same way,
whatever intervenes, or if notbing intervenes. Through
eight thousand miles of the Earth's substance, eacb mole-
cule at the antipodes affects each molecule of the weight
I hold, in utter indifference to the fulness or emptiness
of the space between them. So tbat eacb portion of matter
in its dealings witb remote portions, treats all intervening
portions as thougb they did not exist ; and yet, at the -same
time it recognizes their existence with scrupulous exactness .
in its direct dealings witb them. We bave to regard gravi-
tation as a force to which everything in the Universe is
at once perfectly opaque in respect of itself and perfectly
transparent in respect o^ other things.

While then it is impossible to form any idea of Force
in itself, it is equally impossible to comprehend its mode
of exercise.

§ 19. Turning now from the outer to the inne^r woild, let
us contemplate, not the agencies to which we ascribe our
subjective modifications, but the subjective modifications
themselves. These constitute a series. Difficult as we find
it distinctly to separate and individualize them, it is neverthe-
less beyond question that our states of consciousness occur in
succession.

Is this chain of states of consciousness infinite or finite ?
We cannot say infinite ; not only because we have indirectly
reached the conclusion that there was a period when it com-

02 ULTIMATE SCIENTIFIC IDEAS.

menced, but also because all infinity is inconceivable — an
infinite series included. We cannot say finite ; for wo bave
no knowledge of eitber of its ends. Go back in memory as
far as we may, we are wbolly unable to identify our first
states of consciousness : the perspective of our tbougbts
vanishes in a dim obscurity wbere we can make out notbing.
Similarly at the other extreme. "We have no immediate
knowledge of a termination to the series at a future time ; and
we cannot really lay hold of that temporary termination of
the series reached at the present moment. For the state of
consciousness recognized by us as our last, is not truly our
last. That any mental afiection may be contemplated as one
of the series, it must be remembered — represented in thought,
not presented. The truly last state of consciousness is that
which is passing in the very act of contemplating a state
just past — that in which we are thinking of the one before as
the last. So that the proximate end of the chain eludes us,
as well as the remote end.

"But," it may be said, "though, we cannot directly know
consciousness to be finite in duration, because neither of its
limits can be actually reached ; yet we can very well conceive
it to be so." No : not even this is^ true. In the first place,
we cannot conceive the terminations of that consciousness
\vhich alone we really know — our own — any more than we
can perceive its terminations. For in truth the two acts are
here one. In either case such terminations must be, as above
said, not presented in thought, but represented; and they
must be represented as in the act of occurring. Now to
represent the termination of consciousness as occurring
111 ourselves, is to think of ourselves as contcmplatuig the
cessation of the last state of consciousness ; and this implies
a supposed continuance of consciousness after its last
slate, which is absurd. In the second place, if we regard
tlie matter objectively — if we study the phenomena as
occurring in others, or in the abstract, we are equally foiled.
Consciousness implies perpetual change and the perpetual

ULTIMATE SCIENTIFIC IDEAS. 63

establisliment of relations between its successive pliases. To
be kno^vn at all, any mental affection must be known as sucb or
such. — as like these foregoing ones or unlike those : if it is not
thought of in connexion with others — not distinguished or
identified by comparison with others, it is not recognized — is
not a state of consciousness at all. A last state of conscious- ,
ness, then, like any other, can exist only through a percep-
tion of its relations to previous states. " But such perception of
its relations must constitute a state later than the last, which
is a contradiction. Or to put the difficulty in another form : —
If ceaseless change of state is the condition on which alone
consciousness exists, then when the supposed last state
has been reached by the completion of the preceding change,
change has ceased ; therefore consciousness has ceased ; there-
fore the supposed last state is not a state of consciousness at
all ; therefore there can be no last state of consciousness. In
short, the perplexity is like that presented by the relations of
Motion and Rest. As we found it was impossible really to
conceive Rest becoming Motion or Motion becoming Rest ; so
here we find it is impossible really to conceive either the
beginning or the ending of those changes wliich constitute
consciousness.

Hence, while we are unable either to believe or to conceive
that the duration of consciousness is infinite, we are equally
unable either to know it as finite, or to conceive it as finite.

§ 20. Nor do we meet with any greater success when, in-
stead of the extent of consciousness, we consider its substance.
The question — What is this that thinks ? admits of no better
solution than the question to which we have just found none
but inconceivable answers.

The existence of each indi^ddual as kno^vn to himself, has
been always held by mankind at large, the most incontro-
vertible of truths. To say — " I am as sure of it as I am sure
that I exist," is, in common speech, the most emphatic ex-
pression of certainty. And this fact of personal existence,

64 ULTIMATE SCIENTIFIC IDEAS.

testified to by the universal consciousness of men, has been
made the basis of sundry philosophies ; whence may be drawn
the inference, that it is held by thinkers, as well as by the
vulgar, to be beyond all facts unquestionable.

Belief in the reality of self, is, indeed, a belief which no
hypothesis enables us to escape. What shall we say of these
successive impressions and ideas which constitute conscious-
ness ? Shall we say that they are the affections of something
called mind, which, as being the subject of them, is the real
ego ? If we say this, we manifestly imply that the ego is an
entity. Shall we assert that these impressions and ideas are not
the mere superficial changes wrought on some thinking sub-
stance, but are themselves the very body of this substance —
are severally the modified forms which it from moment to
moment assumes ? This hypothesis, equally with the fore-
going, implies that the individual exists as a permanent and
distinct being ; since modifications necessarily involve some-
thing modified. Shall we then betake ourselves to the sceptic's
position, and argue that we know nothing more than our im-
pressions and ideas themselves — that these are to us the only
existences ; and that the personality said to underlie them is a
mere fiction ? We do not even thus escape ; since this pro-
position, verbally intelligible but really unthinkable, itself
makes the assumption which it professes to repudiate. For
how can consciousness be wholly resolved into impressions and
ideas, when an impression of necessity implies something im-
pressed ? Or again, how can the sceptic who has decomposed
his consciousness into impressions and ideas, explain the fact
that he considers them as Ids impressions and ideas ? Or
once more, if, as he must, he admits that he has an impression
of his personal existence, what warrant can he show for re-
jecting this impression as unreal while he accepts all his other
impressions as real ? Unless he can give satisfactory answers
to these queries, which he cannot, he must abandon his con-
clusions ; and must admit the reality of the individual mind.

But now, imavoidable as is this belief — established though

ULTIMATE SCIENTIFIC IDEAS. 66

it is not only by the assent of mankind at large, endorsed by
divers piiilosopbers, but by the suicide of the sceptical argu-
ment— it is yet a belief admitting of no justification by reason :
nay, indeed, it is a belief which reason, when pressed for a
distinct answer, rejects. One of the most recent writers who
has touched upon this question — Mr Mansel — does indeed
contend that in the consciousness of self, we have a piece of
real knowledge. The validity of immediate intuition ho
holds in this case imquestionable : remarking that "let
system-makers say what they will, the unsophi-sticated sense
of mankind refuses to acknowledge that mind is but a bundle
of states of consciousness, as matter is (possibly), a bundle of
sensible qualities." On which position the obvious cominen^
is, that it does not seem altogether a consistent one for a
Kantist, who pays but small respect to " the unsophisticated
sense of mankind" when it testifies to the objectivity of space.
Passing over this, however, it may readily be shown that a
cognition of self, properly so called, is absolutely negatived
by the laws of thought. The fundamental condition to all
consciousness, emphatically insisted upon by Mr Mansel in
common with Sir William Hamilton and others, is the anti-
thesis of subject and object. And on this " primitive dualism
of consciousness," " from which the explanations of philosophy
must take their start," Mr Mansel founds his refutation of the
German absolutists. But now, what is the coroUary from this
doctrine, as bearing on the consciousness of self? The mental
act in which self is known, implies, like every other mental
act, a perceiving subject and a perceived object. If, then, the
object perceived is self, what is the subject that perceives ? or
if it is the true self which thinks, what other self can it be
that is thought of ? Clearly, a true cognition of self implies
a state in which the knowing and the known are one — in
which subject and object are identified ; and this Mr Mansel
rightly holds to be the annihilation of both.

So that the personality of which each is conscious, and of
Tvhich the existence is to each a fact beyond all others the most

00 ULTIMATE SCIENTIFIC IDEAS.

cei'tain, is yet a thing wliicli cannot truly be known at all :
knowledge of it is forbidden by the very nature of thought.

§ 21. TJltimato Scientific Ideas, then, are all representative
of realities that cannot be comprehended. After no matter
how great a progress in the colligation of facts and the estab-
Uslmient of generalizations ever wider and wider — after the
merging of limited and derivative truths in truths that are
larger and deeper has been carried no matter how far ; the
fundamental truth remains as much beyond reach as ever. The
explanation of that which is explicable, does but bring out
into greater .clearness the inexplicableness of that which re-
mains behind. Alike in the external and the internal worlds,
the man of science sees himself in the midst of perpetual changes
of which he can discover neither the beginning nor the end.
If, tracing back the evolution of things, he allows himself to
entertain the hypothesis that the Universe once existed in a
diffused form, he finds it utterly impossible to conceive how
this came to be so ; and equally, if he speculates on the
future,, he can assign no limit to the grand succession of phe-
nomena ever unfolding themselves before him. In like
manner if he looks inward, he perceives that both ends of the
thread of consciousness are beyond his grasp; nay, even
bej^ond his power to think of as having existed or as existiag
in time to come. When, again, he turns from the succession of
phenomena, external or internal, to their intrinsic nature, he
is just as much at fault. Supposing him in every case able to
resolve the appearances, properties, and movements of things,
into manifestations of Force in Space and Time ; he still finds
that Force, Space, and Time pass all understanding. Simi-
larly, though the analysis of mental actions may finally bring
him down to sensations, as the original materials out of which
all thought is woven, yet he is little forwarder ; for he can
give no account either of sensations themselves or of that
something which is conscious of sensations. Objective and
Bubjective things he thus ascertains to be aHke inscrutable in

UMTMATE SCIENTIFIC IDEAS. 67

tlicir substance and genesis. In all directions his investiga-
tions eventually bring him face to face with an insoluble
enigma; and he ever more clearly perceives it to be an insoluble
enigma. He learns at once the greatness and the littleness of
the human intellect — its power in dealing with all that comes
within the range of experience ; its imjp)otence in dealing
with all that transcends experience. He realizes with a
special vividness the utter incomprehensibleness of the simplest
fact, considered in itself. lie, more than any other, truly
knaws that in its ultimate essence nothing can be ioio^vn.

CHAPTER IV.

TUB RELATIVITY OF ALL KNOWLEDGE.

§ 22. The same conclusion is thus arrived at, from which-
ever point we set out. If, respecting the origin and nature
of things, we make some assumption, we find that through an
inexorable logic it inevitably commits us to alternative impos-
sibilities of thought ; and this holds true of every assumption
that can be imagined. If, contrariwise, we make no assump-
tion, but set out from the sensible properties of surrounding
objects, and, ascertaining their special laws of dependence, go
on to merge these in laws more and more general, until wo
bring them all under some most general laws ; we still find our-
selves as far as ever from knowing what it is w^hich manifests
these properties to us : clearly as we seem to know it, our
apparent knowledge proves on examination to be utterly irre-
concilable with itself. Ultimate religious ideas and ultimate
scientific ideas, alike turn out to be merely symbols of the
actual, not cognitions of it. .

The conviction, so reached, that human intelligence is
incapable of absolute knowledge, is one that has been slowly
gaining ground as civiKz tion has advanced. Each new
ontological theory, from time to time propounded in lieu of
previous ones shown to be untenable, has been followed by a
new criticism leading to a new scepticism. All possible con-
ceptions have been one by one tried and found wanting ; and

THE RELATmiT OF AI.L KNOWLEDGE 09

60 tlie entire field of speculation has been gradually exhausted
without positive result: the only result arrived at being
the negative one above stated — that the reality existing
behind all appearances is, and must ever be, unknown. To
this conclusion almost every thinker of note has subscribed.
" With the exception," says Sir William Hamilton, "of a few
late Absolutist theorisers in Germany, this is, perhaps, tho
truth of all others most harmoniously re-echoed by every
philosopher of every school." And among these he names —
Protagoras, Aristotle, St. Augustin, Boethius, Averroes,
Albertus Magnus, Gerson, Leo Hebraeus, Melancthon, Sca-
liger, Francis Piccolomini, Giordano Bruno, Campanella,
Bacon, Spinoza, Newton, Kant.

It yet remains to point out how this belief may be estab-
lished rationally, as well as empirically. IsTot only is it that,
as in the earlier thinkers above named, a vague perception of
the inscrutablehess of things in themselves results from dis-
covering the illusiveness of sense-impressions ; and not only
is it that, as shown in the foregoing chapters, definite experi-
ments evolve altemati^re impossibilities of thought out of
every ultimate conception we can frame ; but it is that the
relativity of our knowledge is demonstrable analytically.
The induction drawn from general and special experiences,
may be confirmed by a deduction from the nature of our
intelligence. Two ways of reaching such a deduction exist.
Proof that our cognitions are not, and never can be, absolute,
is obtainable by analyzing either the product of thought, or
the process of thought. Let us analyze each.

§ 23. If, when walking through the fields some day in
September, you hear a rustle a few yards in advance, and
v)n observing the ditch- side where it occurs, see the herbage
agitated, you will probably turn towards the spot to learn by
what this sound and motion are produced. As you approach
there flutters into the ditch, «a partridge ; on seeing which

70 THE RELATIVITY OF ALL KNOWLEDGE.

your curiosity is satisfied — you have what you call an explan*
ation of tlie appearances. The explanation, mark, amounta
to this ; that whereas throughout life you have had countless
experiences of disturbance among small stationary bodies,
accompanying the movement of other bodies among them,
and have generalized the relation between such disturbances'
and such movements, you consider this particular disturbance
explained, on finding it to present, an instance of the like
relation. Suppose you catch the partridge ; and, wish-

ing to ascertain why it did not escape, examine it, and find
at one spot, a slight trace of blood upon its feathers. You
now understand, as you say, what has disabled the partridge.
It has been wounded by a sportsman — adds another case to
the many cases already seen by you, of birds being killed or
injured by the shot discharged at them from fowling-pieces.
And in assimilating this case to other such cases, consists
your understanding of it. But now, on consideration, a

difiiculty suggests itself. Only a single shot has struck the
partridge, and that not in a vital place : the wings are unin-
jured, as are also those muscles which move them ; and the
creature proves by its struggles that it has abundant strength.
Why then, you inquire of yourself, does it not fly ? Occasion
favouring, you put the question to an anatomist, who fur-
nishes you with a solution. He points out that this solitary
shot has passed close to the place at which the nerve supplying
the wing- muscles of one side, diverges from the spine ; and that
a slight injury to this nerve, extending even to the rupture of
a few fi-bres, may, by preventing a perfect co-ordination in tho
actions of the two wings, destroy the power of flight. You are
no longer puzzled. But what has happened? — ^what has
changed your state from one of perplexity to one of compre^
hension ? Simply the disclosure of a class of previously
known cases, along with which you can include this case.
The connexion between lesions of the nervous system and
paralysis of limbs has been .already many times brought

THE RELATIVITY OF ALL KNOWLEDGE. 71

under your notice ; and you here find a relation of cause and
effect that is essentially similar.

Let us suppose you are led on to make further inquiries
concerning organic actions, which, conspicuous and remarkable
as they are, you had not before cared to understand. How
is respiration effected? you ask — why does air periodically
rush into the lungs ? The answer is that in the higher verte-
brata, as in ourselves, influx of air is caused by an enlarge-
ment of the thoracic cavity, due, partly to depression of the
diaphragm, partly to elevation of the ribs. But how does
elevation of the ribs enlarge the cavity? In reply the
anatomist shows you that the plane of each pair of ribs
makes an acute angle with the spine ; that this angle widens
when the moveable ends of the ribs are raised ; and he makes
you realize the consequent dilatation of the cavity, by point-
ing out how the area of a parallelogram increases as its angles
approach to right angles — you understand this special fact
when you see it to be an instance of a general geometrical
fact. There still arises, however, the question — why does the
air rush into this enlarged cavity ? To which comes the
answer that, when the thoracic cavity is enlarged, the con-
tained air, partially relieved from pressure, expands, and so loses
some of its resisting power ; that hence it opposes to the pres-
sure of the external air a less pressure ; and that as air, like
every other fluid, presses equally in all directions, motion must
result along any line in which the resistance is less than
elsewhere; whence follows an inward current. And this
interpretation you recognize as one, when a few facts of like
kind, exhibited more plainly in a visible fluid such as water,
are cited in illustration. Again, when it was pointed out

that the limbs are compound levers acting in essentially the
same way as levers of iron or wood, you might consider your-
self as having obtained a partial rationale of animal move-
ments. The contraction of a muscle, seeming before utterly
unaccountable, would seem less unaccountable were you shown

72 THE RELATIVITY OF ALL KNOWLEDGE.

how, by a galvanic current, a series of soft iron magnets could
be made to shorten itself, tbrougb. the attraction of each
magnet for its neighbours : — an alleged analogy which
especially answ^ers the purpose of our argument ; since^
whether real or fancied, it equally illustrates the mental
illumination that results on finding a class of cases within
which a particular case may possibly be included. And it
may be further noted how, in the instance here named, an ad-
ditional feeling of comprehension arises oil remembering that
the influence conveyed through the nerves to the muscles, is,
though not positively electric, yet a form of force nearly
allied to the electric. Similarly when you learn that

animal heat arises from chemical combination, and so is
evolved as heat is evolved in other chemical combinations—
when you learn that the absorption of nutrient fluids through
the coats of the intestines, is an instance of osmotic action —
when you learn that the changes undergone by food during
digestion, are like changes artificially producible in the labora-
tory ; you regard yourself as knoivmg something about the
natures of these phenomena.

Observe now what we have been doing. Turning to tho
general question, let us note where these successive interpret-
ations have carried us. We began with quite special and
concrete facts. In explaining each, and afterwards explain-
ing the more general facts of which they are instances, we
have got down to certain highly general facts : — to a geome-
trical principle or property of space, to a simple law of me-
chanical action, to a law of fluid equilibrium — to truths in
physics, in chemistry, in thermology, in electricity. The
particular phenomena with which we set out, have beeA
merged in larger and larger groups of phenomena ; and as
they have been so merged, we have arrived at solutions that
we consider profound in proportion as this process has been
carried far. Still deeper explanations are simply further
steps in the same direction. When, for instance, it is asked

ITJE RELATIVITY OF ALL KNOWLEDGE. 78

why the law of action of tlie lever is what it is, or why fluid
equilibrium and fluid motion exhibit the relations which they
do, the answer furnished by mathematicians consists in the
disclosure of the principle of virtual velocities — a principle
holding true alike in fluids and solids — a principle under
which the others are comprehended. And similarly, the in-
sight obtained into the phenomena of chemical combination,
heat, electricity, «S;c., implies that a rationale of them, when
found, will be the exposition of some highly general fact re-
specting the constitutio^L of matter, of which chemical,
electrical, and thermal facts, are merely difierent mani-
festations.

Is this process limited or nnliioited ? Can we go on fox
ever explaining classes of facts by including them in larger
classes ; or must we eventually come to a largest class ? The
supposition that the process is unlimited, were any one ab-
surd enough to espouse it, would still imply that an ultimate
explanation could not be reached ; since infinite time would
be required to reach it. "While the unavoidable conclusion
that it is limited (proved not only by the finite sphere of
observation open to us, but also by the diminution in the
number of generalizations that necessarily accompanies in-
crease of their breadth) equally implies that the ultimate
fact cannot be understood. For if the successively deeper in-
terpretations of nature which constitute advancing knowledge,
are merely successive inclusions of special truths in general
truths, and of general truths in truths still more general ; it
obviously follows that the most general truth, not admitting
of inclusion in any other, does no admit of interpretation.
Manifestly, as the most general cognition at which we arrive '
cannot be reduced to a 7noye general one, it cannot be under-
etood. Of necessity, therefore, explanation must eventually
bring us down to the inexplicable. The deepest truth which
we can get at, must be unaccountable. Comprehension must
become something other than comprehension, before the ulti-
mate fact can be comprehended.

74 THE RELATIVITY OF ALL KNOWLEDGE.

§ 24. The inference whicli wo thus find forced upon xw
when we analyze the product of thought, as exhibited ob-
jectively in scientific generalizations, is equally forced upon us
by an analysis of the process of thought, as exhibited sub-
jectively in consciousness. The demonstration of the neces-
sarily relative character of our knowledge, as deduced from
the nature of intelligence, has been brought to its most
definite shape by Sir William Hamilton. I cannot here do
better than extract from his essay on the "Philosophy of
the Unconditioned," the passage containing the substance of
his doctrine.

" The mind can conceive,'* he argues, " and consequently
can know, only the limited^ and the conditionally limited. The
unconditionally unlimited, or the Infinite^ the uncondition-
ally limited, or the AhsoIutCf cannot positively be construed to
the mind ; they can be conceived, only by a thinking away
from, or abstraction of, those very conditions under which
thought itself is realized ; consequently, the notion of the
Unconditioned is only negative, — negative of the conceivable
itself. For example, on the one hand we can positively conceive,
neither an absolute whole, that is, a whole so great, that wo
cannot also conceive it as a relative part of a still greater
whole ; nor an absolute part, that is, a part so small, that we
cannot also conceive it as a relative whole, divisible into smaller
parts. On the other hand, we cannot positively represent, or
realize, or construe to the mind (as here understanding and
imagination coincide), an infinite whole, .for this could only
be done by the infinite synthesis in thought of finite wholes,
which would itself require an infinite time for its accomplish-
ment ; nor, for the same reason, can we follow out in thought
an infinite divisibility of parts. The result is the same,
whether we apply the process to limitation in space^ in time,
. or in degree. The unconditional negation, and the uncondi-
tional affirmation of limitation ; in other words, the infinite
and absolute y properly so called^ are thus equally inconceiv-
able to us.

THE RELATIVITY OF ALL ICNOWLEDGE. 75

" As the coAiitionally limited (wluch we may briefly call

the conditioned) is thus the only possible object of knowledge
and of positive thought — thought necessarily supposes condi-
tions. To tJiink is to condition; and conditional limitation is
the fundamental law of the possibility of thought. For, as
the greyhound cannot outstrip his shadow, nor (by a more
appropriate simile) the eagle outsoar the atmosphere in which
he floats, and by which alone he may be supported ; so the
mind cannot transcend that sphere of limitation, within and
through which exclusively the possibility of thought is
reabzed. Thought is only of the conditioned ; because, as we
have said, to think is simply to condition. The absolute is
conceived merely by a negation of conceivability ; and all
that we know, is only known as

* won from the void and formless injinite*

flow, indeed, it could ever be doubted that thought is only of
the conditioned, may well be deemed a matter of theprofoundest
admiration. Thought cannot transcend consciousness; con-
sciousness is only possible under the antithesis of a subject
and object of thought, known only in correlation, and* mutually
limiting each other ; while, independently of this, all that we
know either of subject or object, either of mind or matter, is
only a knowledge in each of the particular, of the plural, of
the different, of the modified, of the phaenomenal. We admit
that the consequence of this doctrine is, — that philosophy, if
viewed as more than a science of the conditioned, is impossi-
ble. Departing from the particular, we admit, that we can
never, in our highest generalizations, rise above the finite ;
that our knowledge, whether of mind or matter, can be
nothing more than a knowledge of the relative manifestations
of an existence, which in itseK it is our highest wisdom to
recognize as beyond the reach of philosophy, — in the language
3f St Austin, — * cognoscendo ignorari^ et ignorando cognosci*
** The conditioned is tlie mean between two extremes, — two

«0 THE RELATIVITY OF ALL KNOWLEDGE.

inconditionates, exclusive of each other, neither of whicli can
be conceived as j)ossible, but of which, on the principles of con-
tradiction and excluded middle, one tnust be admitted as
necessary. On this opinion, therefore, reason is shown to
be weak, but not deceitful. The mind is not represented as
conceiving two propositions subversive of each other, as
equally possible ; but only, as unable to understand as possi-
ble, either of two extremes ; one of which, however, on
the ground of their mutual repugnance, it is compelled
to recognize as true. "We are thus taught the salutary
lesson, that the capacity of thought is not to be constituted
into the measure of existence ; and are warned from recogniz-
ing the domain of our knowledge as necessarily co-extensive
with the horizon of our faith. And by a wonderful revelation,
we are thus, in the very consciousness of our inability to
conceive aught above the relative and finite, inspired with a
belief in the existence of something unconditioned beyond the
sphere of all comprehensible reality.'*

Clear and conclusive as this statement of the case appears
when carefully studied, it is expressed in so abstract a
manner as to be not very intelligible to the general reader.
A more popular presentation of it, with illustrative applica-
tions, as given by Mr Mansel in his "Limits of Religious
Thought," will make it more fully understood. The follow-
ing extracts, which I take the liberty of making from his
pages, will suffice.

" The very conception of consciousness, in whatever mode
it may be manifested, necessarily implies distinction bcttceen
one object and another. To be conscious, we must be conscious
of something ; and that something can only be known, as
iliat which it is, by being distinguished from that which it is
aot. But distinction is necessarily limitation ; for, if one
object is to be distinguished from another, it must possess
some form of existence which the other has not, or it must
not possess some form which the other has. But it is obvious

THE RELATIVITY OF ALL KNOWLEDGE. 77

the Infinite cannot be distinguislied, as such, from the Finite,
by the absence of any quality which the Finite possesses ; for
such absence would be a limitation. Kor yet can it be dis-
tinguished by the presence of an attribute which the Finite
has not ; for, as no finite part can be a constituent of an
infinite whole, this difierential characteristic must itself be
infinite ; and must at the same time have nothing in common
with the finite. We are thus thrown back upon our former
impossibility ; for this second infinite will be distinguished
from the finite by the absence of qualities which the latter
possesses. A consciousness of the Infinite as such thus neces-
sarilj^involves a self-contradiction ; for it implies the recogni-
tion, by limitation and difference, of that which can only be
given as unlimited, and indifferent. * * *

' " This contradiction, which is utterly inexplicable on the
supposition that the infinite is a positive object of human
thought, is at once accounted for, when it is regarded as the
mere negation of thought. If all thought is limitation ; — if
whatever we conceive is, by the very act of conception,
regarded as finite, ^^A^ infinite , from a human point of view,
is merely a name for the absence of those conditions under
which thought is possible. To speak of a Conception of the
Infinite is, therefore, at once to affirm those conditions and to
deny them. The contradiction, which we discover in such a
conception, is only that which we have ourselves placed there,
by tacitly assuming the conceivability of the inconceivable.
The condition of consciousness is distinction ; and condition
of distinction is Kmitation. We can have no consciousness of
Being in general which is not some Being in particular : a
thing, in consciousness, is one thing out of many. In assum-
ing the possibility of an infinite object of consciousness, I
assume, therefore, that it is at the same time limited and
unlimited ; — actually something, without which it could not
be an object of consciousness, and actually nothing, without

which it could not be infinite. * * *

*' A second characteristic of Consciousness is, that it is only
5

7S THE RELATIVITY OF ATX KNOWI.EDGI!.

posaible in the form of a relation. There must bo a Suhject,
or person conscious, and an Object, or thing of which he is
conscious. There can be no consciousness without the
union of these two factors ; and, in that union, each existf»
only as it is related to the other. The subject is a subject,
only in so far as it is conscious of an object : the object is an
object, only in so far as it is apprehended by a subject : and
the destruction of either is the destruction of consciousness
itself. It is thus manifest that a consciousness of the Abso-
lute is equally self-contradictory with that of the Infinite.
To be conscious of the Absolute as such, we must know that
an object, which is given in relation to our consciousrifess, is
identical with one which exists in its own nature, out of all
relation to consciousness. But to know this identity, wo
must be able to compare the two together ; and such a com-
parison is itself a contradiction. We are in fact required to
compare that of which we are conscious with that of which
we are not conscious ; the comparison itself being an act of
consciousness, and only possible through the consciousness of
both its objects. It is thus manifest that, even if we could
be conscious of the absolute, we could not possibly know that
it is the absolute : and, as we can be conscious of an object as
such, only by knowing it to be what it is, this is equivalent
to an admission that we cannot be conscious of the absolute
at all. As an object of consciousness, every thing is neces-
sarily relative ; and what a thing may be out of consciousness,
no mode of consciousness can tell us.

*' This contradiction, again, admits of the same explanation
as the former. Our whole notion of existence is necessarily
relative ; for it is existence as conceived by us. But Existence f
as we conceive it, is but a name for the several ways in which
objects are presented to our consciousness, — a general term,
embracing a variety of relations. The Absolute, on the other
[band, is a term expressing no object of thought, but only a
'denial of the relation by which thought is constituted. To
assume absolute existence as an object of thought, is thus to

THE RELATIVITY OF ALL KNO'VVLEDGE. 79

puppoae a relation existing wlien the related terms exist no
longer. An object of thouglit exists, as sucli, in and through
its relation to a thinker ; while the Absolute, as such, is inde-
pendent of all relation. The Conception of the Absolute thus
implies at the same time the presence and absence of the re-
lation by -which thought is constituted ; and our various en-
deavours to represent it are only so many modified forms of
the contradiction involved in our original assumption. Here,
too, the contradiction is one which we ourselves have made.
It does not imply that the Absolute cannot exist ; but it im- y
plies, most certainly, that we cannot conceive it as existing.*' \

Here let me point out how the same general inference may
be evolved from another fundamental condition of thought,
omitted by Sir W. Hamilton, and not supplied by !Mr Man-
sel ; — a condition which, imder its obverse aspect, we have al-
ready contemplated in the last section. Every complete act
of consciousness, besides distinction and relation, also implies
likeness. Eefore it can become an idea, or constitute a piece
of knowledge, a mental state must not only be known as
separate in kind from certain foregoing states to which it is
known as related by succession ; but it must further be knoTVTi
as of the same kind with certain other foregoing states.
That organization of changes which constitutes thinking, in-
volves continuous integration as well as continuous differenti-
ation. "Were each new affection of the mind perceived
simply as an affection in some way contrasted with the
preceding ones — were there but a chain of impressions, each
of which as it arose was merely distinguished from its prede-
cessors ; consciousness would be an utter chaos. To produce
that orderly consciousness which we call intelligence, there
requires the assimilation of each impression to others,
tnat occurred earlier in the series. Both the successive
mental states, and the successive relations which they bear to
each other, must be classified ; and classification involves not
only a parting of the unlike, but also a binding together of
the like. In brief, a true cognition is possible only through

so THE RELATIVITY OF ALL KNOWLEDGE.

an accompanying recognition. Should it be objected

tbat if so, there cannot be a first cognition, and hence there
can be no cognition ; the reply is, that cognition proper arises
gradually — that during the first stage of incipient intelligence,
before the feelings produced by intercourse with the outer world
have been put into order, there are no cognitions, strictly so
called; and that, as every infant shows us, these slowly
emerge out of the confusion of unfolding consciousness as
fast as the experiences are arranged into groups — as fast as
the most frequently repeated sensations, and their relations to
each other, become familiar enough to admit of their recog-
nition as such or such, whenever they recur. Should it be
further objected that if cognition pre-supposes recognition,
there can be no cognition, even by an adult, of an object
never before seen ; there is still the sufficient answer that in
so far as it is not assimilated to previously-seen objects, it is
not known, and that it is known in so far as it is assimilated
to them. Of this paradox the interpretation is, that an object
is classifiable in various 'ways, with various degrees of com-
pleteness. An animal hitherto unknown (mark the word),
though not referable to any established species or genus, is
yet recognized as belonging to one of the larger divisions
— mammals, birds, reptiles, or fishes ; or should it be so
momalous that its alliance with any of these is not determin-
able, it may yet be classed as vertebrate or invertebrate ; or if
it be one of those organisms of which it is doubtful whether
the animal or vegetal characteristics predominate, it is still
known as a living body ; even should it be questioned
whether it is organic, it remains beyond question that it is a
material object, and it is cognized by being recognized as
such. "Whence it is manifest that a thing is perfectly known
only when it is in all respects lilce certain things previously
observed ; that in proportion to the number of respects in
which it is unlike them, is the extent to which it is unknown ;
and that hence when it has absolutely no attribute in common

THE RELATIVITY OF ALL KNOWLEDGE. 81

^'ith anything else, it must be absolutely beyond the bounds
of knowledge.

Observe the corollary which here concerns us. A cogni-
tion of the Heal, as distinguished from the Phenomenal, must,
if it exists, conform to this law of cognition in general. The
First Cau^e, The Infinite, the Absolute, to be known at all,
must be classed. To be positively thought of, it must be
thought of as such or such — as of this or that kind. Can it
be like in kind to an}i;hing of which we have sensible
experiencei* Obviously not. Between the creating and the
created, there must be a distinction transcending any of the
distinctions existing between different divisions of the created.
That which is uncaused cannot be assimilated to that which
is caused : the two being, in the very naming, antithetically
opposed. The Infinite cannot be grouped along with some-
thing that is finite ; since, in being so grouped, it must bo
regarded as not-infinite. It is impossible to put the Abso-
lute in the same category with anything relative, so long as
the Absolute is defined as that of which no necessary relation
can be predicated. Is it then that the Actual, though un-
thinkable by classification with the Apparent, is thinkable by
classification with itself ? This supposition is equally absurd
with the other. It implies the plurality of the First Cause,
the Infinite, the Absolute ; and this implication is self-contra-
dictory. There cannot be more than one First Cause ; seeing
that the existence of more than one would involve the existence
of something necessitating more than one, which something
vvould be the true First Cause. How self-destructive is the
assumption of two or more Infinites, is manifest on remember-
ing that such Infinites, by limiting each other, would become
finite. And similarly, an Absolute which existed not alone
but along with other Absolutes, would no longer be an abso-
lute but a relative. The Unconditioned therefore, as classable
neither with any form of the conditioned nor with any other
Unconditioned, cannot be classed at all. And to admit that
it cannot be known as of such or such kind, is to admit that
it is miknowablo.

83 lUH RKLATIVITY OF ALL KNOWLEDGE.

Thus, from tlie very nature of thouglit, the relativity of our
knowledge is inferable in three several ways. As we find by
analyzing it, and as we see it objectively displayed in every
proposition, a thought involves relation, difference, likeness.
Whatever does not present each of these does not admit of
cognition. And hence we may say that the Unconditioned, as
presenting none of them, is trebly unthinkable.

§ 25. From yet another point of view we may discern the
same great truth. If, instead of examining our intellectual .
powers directly as exhibited in the act of thought, or indirectly
as exhibited in thought when expressed by words, we look at
the connexion between the mind and the world, a like conclu-
sion is forced upon us. In tBe very definition of Life, when
reduced to its most abstract shape, this ultimate implication
becomes visible.

All vital actions, considered not separately but in their
ensemble, have for their final purpose th'b balancing of certain
outer processes by certain inner processes. There are unceasing
external forces tending to bring the matter of which organic
bodies consist, into that state of stable equilibrium displayed
by inorganic bodies; there are internal forces by which
this tendency is constantly antagonized; and the perpetual
changes which constitute Life, may be regarded as incidental
to the maintenance of the antagonism. To preserve the
erect posture, for instance, we see that certain weights have
to be neutralized by certain strains : each limb or other organ,
gravitating to the Earth and pulling down the parts to which
it is attached, has to be preserved in position by the tension
of sundry muscles; or in other words, the group of forces
which would if allowed bring the body to the ground, has to
be counterbalanced by another group of forces. Again, to
keep up the temperature at a particular point, the external
process of radiation and absorption of heat by the surround-
ing medium, must be met by a corresponding internal process
of chemical combination, whereby more heat may be evolved ;
to which add, that if from atmospheric chan;::e3 the loss

THE RELATIVITY OP ALL KNOWLEDGE. 83

becomes greater or less, tlie production must become greater or
less. And similarly throughout the organic actions in general.
AYhen we contemplate the lower kinds of life, we see that
the correspondences thus maintained are direct and simple ;
as in a plant, the vitality of which mainly consists in osmotic
and chemical actions responding to the co-existence of light,
heat, water, and carbonic acid aroimd it. But in animals, and
especially in the higher orders of them, the correspondences
become extremely complex. Materials for growth and
repair not being, like those which plants require, everywhere
present, but being widely dispersed and under special forms,
have to be found, to be secured, and to be reduced to a fit state
for assimilation. Hence the need for locomotion ; hence the need
for the senses ; hence the need for prehensile and destructive
appliances ; hence the need for an elaborate digestive appa-
ratus. Observe, however, that these successive complications
are essentially nothing but aids to the maintenance of the
organic balance in its integrity, in opposition to those physical,
chemical, and other agencies which tend to overturn it. And
observe, moreover, that while these successive complications
subserve this fundamental adaptation of inner to outer actions,
they are themselves nothing else but further adaptations of
inner to outer actions. For what are those movements by
which a predatory creature pursues its prey, or by which its
prey seeks to escape, but certain changes in the organism
fitted to meet certain changes in its environment ? What is
that compound operation which constitutes the perception of
a piece of food, but a particular correlation of nervous modifi-
cations, answering to a particular correlation of physical pro-
perties ? What is that process by which food when swallowed
is reduced to a fit form for assimilation, but a set of mechanical
and chemical actions responding to the mechanical and
chemical actions which distinguish tlie food? Whence
it becomes manifest, that while Life in its simplest form is the
correspondence of certain inner physico-chemical actions with
certain outer physico-chemical actions, each advance to a higher

b4 THE RELATIVITY OF ALL KNOWLEDGE.

form of Life consists in a better preservation of this primary
correspondence by the establisliment of otter correspondences.
Divesting this conception of all superfluities and reducing
it to its most abstract shape, we see that Life is definable as
the continuous adjustment of internal relations to external
relations. And when we so define it, we discover that the
physical and the psychial life are equally comprehended by
the definition. We perceive that this which we call Intelli-
gence, shows itself when the external relations to which the
internal ones are adjusted, begin to be numerous, complex, and
remote in time or space ; that every advance in Intelligence
essentially consists in the establishment of more varied, more
complete, and more involved adjustments ; and that even the
highest achievements of science are resolvable into mental rela-
tions of co-existence and sequence, so co-ordinated as exactly to
tally with certain relations of co-existence and sequence that
occur externally. A caterpillar, wandering at random and at
length-finding its way on to a plant having a certain odour,
begins to eat — has inside of it an organic relation, between
a particular impression and a particular set of actions, answer-
ing to the relation outside of it, between scent and nutriment.
The sparrow, guided by the more complex correlation of impres-
sions which the colour, form, and movements of the caterpillar
gave it ; and guided also by other correlations which measure
the position and distance of the caterpillar ; adjusts certain
correlated muscular movements in such way as to seize the
caterpillar. Through a much greater distance in space is the
hawk, hovering above, afiected by the relations of shape and
motion which the sparrow presents ; and the much more com-
plicated and prolonged series of related nervous and muscular
changes, gone through in correspondence with the sparrow's
changing relations of position, finally succeed when they are
precisely adjusted to these changing relations. In the fowler,
experience has established a relation between the appearance
and flight of a hawk and the destruction of other birds, includ-
ing game ; there is abo in him an established relation between

THE RELATIVITY OF ALL KNOWLEDGE. 85

those visual impressions answering to a certain distance in
space, and tlie range of his gun ; and he has learned, too,
by frequent observation, what relations of position the
sights must bear to a point somewhat in advance of the fly-
ing bird, before he- can fire with success. Similarly if we
go back to the manufacture of the gun. By relations of co-
existence between colour, density, and place in the earth, a
particular mineral is known as one which yields iron ; and
the obtainment of iron from it, results when certain correlated
acts of ours, are adjusted to certain correlated afiinities dis-
played by ironstone, coal, and lime, at a high temperature. If
we descend yet a step further, and ask a chemist to explain the
explosion of gunpowder, or apply to a mathematician for a
theory of projectiles, we stiU find that special or general rela-
tions of co-existence and sequence between properties, mo-
tions, spaces &c., are all they can teach us. And lastly, let it be
noted that what we call truth, guiding us to successful action
and the consequent maintenance of life, is simply the "accurate
correspondence of subjective to objective rglajjmis ; while error,
leading to failui'e and therefore towards death, is the absence
of such accurate correspondence.

If, then, Life in all its manifestations, inclusive of Intelli-
gence in its highest forms, consists in the continuous adjust-
ment of internal relations to external relations, the necessarily
relative character of our knowledge becomes obvious. The
simplest cognition being the establishment of some connexion
between subjective states, answering to some connexion be-
tween objective agencies ; and each successively more complex
cognition being the establishment of some more involved con-
nexion of such states, answering to some more involved con-
nexion of such agencies ; it is clear that the process, no mattei
how far it be carried, can never bring within the reach of Intel-
ligence, either the states themselves or the agencies themselves .
Ascertaining which things occur along with which, and what
things follow what, supposing it to be pursued exhaustively,
must still leave us with co-existences and sequences only. 11

B(i THE RELATIVITY OF ALL KNOWLEDGE.

every act of knowing is the formation of a relation in consci-
ousness parallel to a relation in the environment, then the re-
lati\dty of knowledge is self-evident — becomes indeed a truism.
Thinking being relationing, no thought can ever express more
than relations.

And here let us. not omit to mark how that to which our
intelligence is confined, is that with which alone our intelli-
gence is concerned. The knowledge within our reach, is the
only knowledge that can be of service to us. This mainten-
ance of a correspondence between internal actions and exter-
nal actions, which both constitutes our life at each moment
and is the means whereby life is continued through subsequent
moments, merely requires that the agencies acting upon us
shall be known in their co-existences and sequences, and not
that they shall be known in themselves. If a; and y are two
uniformly connected properties in some outer object, while a
and h are the effects they produce in our consciousness ; and
if while the property x produced in us the indifferent mental
state a, the property y produces in us the painful mental state
h (answering to a physical injury) ; then, all that is requisite
for our guidance, is, that x being the uniform accompaniment
of y externally, a shall be the uniform accompaniment of h in-
ternally ; so that when, by the presence of x^ a is produced in
consciousness, 5, or rather the idea of h, shall follow it, and
excite the motions by which the e fleet of y may be escaped.
The sole need is that a and h and the relation between them,
shall always answer to x and y and the relation between them.
It matters nothing to us if a and h are like x and y or not.
Could they be exactly identical with them, we should not bo
one whit the better off; and their total dissimilarity is no
ilisadvantage to us.

Deep down then in the very nature of Life, the relativity
3f our knowledge is discernible. The analysis of vital actions
in general, leads not only to the conclusion tliat things in them-
selves cannot be known to us ; but also to the conclusion that
knowledge of thc.'m, were it possllJe, would be useless.

TIIS KELATIVITX OF ALL KNOWLEDGE. 87

§ 26. There still remains tlie final question — AVhat must
we say concerning that which transcends knowledge ? Are
we to rest wholly in the consciousness of phenomena ? — is the
result of inquiry to exclude utterly from our minds everything
but the relative ? or must we also believe in something beyond
the relative ? •

The answer of pure logic is held to be, that by the limits
of our intelligence .we are rigorously confined within the re-
lative ; and that anj^thing transcending the relative can be
thought of only as a pure negation, or as a ^non-existence.
" The ahsolate is conceived merely by a negation of conceiva-
bility," writes Sir William Hamilton. **The Absolute and
the Injlnite,'* says Mr Mansel, " are thus, like the Inconceiv-
able and the Imperceptible^ names indicating, not an object of
thought or of consciousness at all, but the mere absence of the
conditions under which consciousness is possible." From each
of which extracts may be deduced the conclusion, that since
reason cannot warrant us in affirming the positive existence
of what is cognizable only as a negation, we cannot rationally
affirm the positive existence of anything beyond phenomena.

Unavoidable as this conclusion seems, it involves, I think,
a grave error. If the premiss be granted, the inference must
doubtless be admitted ; but the premiss, in the form presented
by Sir William Hamilton and Mr Mansel, is not strictly true.
Though, in the foregoing pages, the arguments used by these
writers to show that the Absolute is unknowable, have been
approvingly quoted ; and though these arguments have been
enforced by others equally thoroughgoing ; yet there remains
to be stated a qualification, which saves us from that scepti-
cism othei*wise necessitated. It is not to be denied that so
long as we confine ourselves to the pnrely logical aspect of the
question, the propositions quoted above must be accepted in
their entirety ; but when we contemplate its more general, or
psychological, aspect, we find that these propositions are im-
perfect statements of the truth : omitting, or rather excluding,
as they do, ^n aU-important fact. To speak specifically : —

B8 THE RELATIVITY OF ALL KNOWLEDGE.

Besides that definite consciousness of which Logic formiJatcfe
the laws, there is also an indefinite consciousness which cannot
be formulated. Besides complete thoughts, and besides the
thoughts which though incomplete admit of completion, there
are thoughts which it is impossible to complete ; and yet which
jfre still real, in the sense that they are normal affections of
the intellect.

Observe in the first place, that every one of the arguments
by which the relativity of our knowledge is demonstrated,
distinctly postulates the positive existence of something be-
yond the relative. To say that we cannot know the Absolute,
is, by implication, to affirm that there /« an Absolute. In the
very denial of our power to learn what the Absolute is, there
lies hidden the assumption that it is ; and the making of
this assumption proves that the Absolute has been present
to the mind, not as a nothing, but as a something. Similarly
with every step in the reasoning by which this doctrine is
upheld. The Noumenon, everywhere named as the antithesis
of the Phenomenon, is throughout necessarily thought of as
an actuality. It is rigorously impossible to conceive that our
knowledge is a knowledge of Appearances only, without at the
same time conceiving a Reality of which they are appearances ;
for appearance without reality is unthinkable. Strike out
from the argument the terms Unconditioned, Infinite, Absolute,
with their equivalents, and in place of them write, " negation
of conceivability," or " absence of the conditions under which
consciousness is possible," and you find that the argument
becomes nonsense. Truly to realize in thought any one of the
propositions of which the argument consists, the Unconditioned
must be represented as positive and not negative. How then can
it be a legitimate conclusion from the argument, that our con-
sciousness of it is negative ? An argument, the very construc-
tion of which assigns to a certain term a certain meaning,
but which ends in showing that this term has no such mean-
ing, is simply an elaborate suicide. Clearly, then, the very
demonstration that a definite consciousness of the Absolute

TllE RELATIVITY OF ALL KNOWLEDGE. 89

iis impossible to us, unavoidably presupposes an indejitiite con-
sciousness of it.

Perhaps tbe best way of showing that by the necessary
conditions of thought, we are obliged to form a positive though
vague consciousness of this which transcends distinct con-
sciousness, is to analyze our conception of the antithesis
between Eelative and Absolute. It is a doctrine called in
question by none, that such antinomies of thought as Whole
and Part, Equal and Unequal, Singular and Plural, are
necessarily conceived as correlatives : the conception of a pari
is impossible without the conception of a whole ; there can
be no idea of equality without one of inequality. And it is
admitted that in the same manner, the Eelative is itself con-
ceivable as such, only by opposition to the Irrelative or Abso-
lute. Sir William Hamilton however, in his trenchant
(and in most parts unanswerable) criticism on Cousin, contends,
in conformity Tvith his position above stated, that one of
these correlatives is nothing whatever beyond the negation of
the other. " Correlatives " he says " certainly suggest each
other, but correlatives may, or may not, be equally real and
positive. In thought contradictories necessarily imply each
other, for the knowledge of contradictories is one. But the
reality of one contradictory, so far from guaranteeing the reality
of the other, is nothing else than its negation. Thus every
positive notion (the concept of aC thing by what it is) suggests
a negative notion (the concept of a thing by what it is not) ;
and the highest positive notion, the notion of the conceivable,
is not without its corresponding negative in the notion of the
inconceivable. But though these mutually suggest each
other, the positive alone is real ; the negative is only an ab-
straction of the other, and in the highest generality, even an
abstraction of thought itself." Now the assertion
that of such contradictories " the negative is onhj an abstrac-
tion of the other " — " is nothing else than its negation," — is
not true. In such correlatives as Equal and Unequal, it ia
obvious enou2:h that the negative concept contains something

BO THE RELATIVITY OF ALL KNOWLEDGE.

besides the negation of the positive one; for the things of
which equality is denied are not abolished from consciousness
by the denial. And the fact overlooked by Sir William
Hamilton, is, that the like holds even with those correlatives
of which the negative is inconceivable, in the strict sense of
the word. Take for example the Limited and the Unlimited.
Our notion of the Limited is composed, firstly of a conscious-
ness of some kind of being, and secondly of a consciousness of
the limits under which it is known. Li the antithetical notion
of the Unlimited, the consciousness of limits is abolished ; but
not the consciousness of some kind of being. It is quite true
that in the absence of conceived limits, this consciousness ceases
to be a concept properly so called ; but it is none the less true
that it remains as a mode of consciousness. If, in such cases,
the negative contradictory were, as alleged, " nothing else "
than the negation of the other, and therefore a mere nonen-
tity, then it would clearly follow that negative contradictories
could be used interchangeably: the Unlimited might be
thought of as antithetical to the Divisible ; and the Indivisible
as antithetical to the Limited. While the fact that they
cannot be so used, proves that in consciousness the Unlimited
and the Indivisible are qualitatively distinct, and therefore
positive or real; since distinction cannot exist between
nothings. The error, (very naturally fallen into by philo-
sophers intent on demonstrating the limits and conditions
of consciousness,) consists in assuming that consciousness con-
tains nothing hut limits and conditions ; to the entire neglect
of that which is limited and conditioned. It is forgotten
that there is something which alike forms the raw material
of definite thought and remains after the definiteness which
thinking gave to it has been destroyed. Now all

this applies by change of terms to the last and highest of
these antinomies — that between the Relative and the Non-
relative. We are conscious of the Relative as existence under
conditions and limits ; it ia impossible that these conditions
find limits can be thought of apart from something to which

THE RELATIVITY OF ALL KNOWLEDGE. 9i

tliey give the form ; tlie abstraction of these conditions and
limits, is, by the hypothesis, the abstraction of them only ; con-
sequently there must be a residuary consciousness of some- ,
thing which filled up their outlines ; and this indefinite some-
tliinsr constitutes our consciousness of the Non-relative or
Absolute. Impossible though it is to give to this conscious-
ness any qualitative or quantitative expression whatever, it is
not the less certain that it remains with us as a positive and
indestructible element of thought.

Stni more manifest will this truth become when it is ob-
served that our conception of the Relative itself disappears, if
our conception of the Absolute is a pure negation. It is ad-
mitted, or rather it is contended, by the writers I have quoted
above, that contradictories can be known only in relation to
each other — that Equality, for instance, is unthinkable apart
from its correlative Inequality ; and that thus the Relative can
itself be conceived only by opposition to the Non-relative. It
is also admitted, or rather contended, that the consciousness of
a relation implies a consciousness of both the related members.
If we are required to conceive the relation between the Re-
lative and Non-relative without being conscious of both, " we
are in fact" (to quote the words of JSIr Mansel diflerently
applied) " required to compare that of which we are conscious
with that of which we are not conscious ; the comparison
itself being an act of consciousness, and only possible through
the consciousness of both its objects." What then becomes
of the assertion that " the Absolute is conceived merely by a
negation of conceivability," or as " the mere absence of the
conditions under which consciousness is possible ? " If the Non-
relative or Absolute, is present in thought only as a mere
negation, then the relation between .it and the Relative be-
comes unthinkable, because one of the terms of the relation is
absent from consciousness. And if this relation is unthink-
able, then is the Relative itself unthinkable, for want of it-
antithesis : whence residts the disappearance of all thought
wliatever.

92 THE RELATIVITY OF ALL KNOWLEDGE.

Let me here point out that both Sir Wm Hamilton and
Mr Mansel, do, in other places, distinctly imply that our
consciousness of the Absolute, indefinite though it is, is
positive and not negative. The very passage abeady quoted
from Sir "Wm Hamilton, in which he asserts that "the
absolute is conceived merely by a negation of conceivability,"
itself ends with the remark that, " by a wonderful revelation,
we are thus, in the very consciousness of our inability to con-
ceive aught above the relative and finite, inspired with a
belief in the existence of something unconditioned beyond
the sphere of all comprehensible reality." The last of
these assertions practically admits that which the other
denies. By the laws of thought as Sir Wm Hamilton has
interpreted them, he finds himself forced to the conclusion
that our consciousness of the Absolute is a pure negation.
He nevertheless finds that there does exist in consciousness
an irresistible conviction of the real " existence of some-
thing imconditioned." And he gets over the inconsistency
by speaking of this conviction as " a wonderful revelation " —
" a belief " with which we are " inspired : " thus apparently
hinting that it is supernaturally at variance with the laws of
thought. Mr Mansel is betrayed into a like inconsistency.
"When he says that " we are compelled, by the constitution of
our minds, to believe in the existence of an Absolute and In-
finite Being, — a belief which appears forced upon us, as the
complement of our consciousness of the relative and the
finite ; " he clearly says by implication that this conscious-
ness is positive, and not negative. He tacitly admits that
we are obliged to regard the Absolute as something more
than a negation^that our consciousness of it is not " the
mere absence of the conditions under which consciousness is
possible."

The supreme importance of this question must be my
apology for taxing the reader's attention a little further, in
the hope of clearing up the remaining difficulties. The ne-
cessarily positive character of our consciousness of the Uncon«

THE RELATIVITY OV ALL KNOWLEDGE. 93

ditioned, which, as we have seen, follows from an ultimate
law of thought, will be better imderstood on contemplating
the process of thought.

One of the arguments used to prove the relativity of
our knowledge, is, that we cannot conceive Space or Time as
either limited or unlimited. It is pointed out that when we
imagine a limit, there simultaneously arises the consciousness
of a space or time existing beyond the limit. This remoter
space or tjme, though not contemplated as definite, is yet con-
templated as real. Though we do not form of it a conception
proper, since we do not bring it within bounds, there is yet in
our minds the unshaped material of a conception. Similarly
with our consciousness of Cause. AYe are no more able to
form a circumscribed idea of Cause, than of Space or Time ;
and we are consequently obliged to think of the Cause which
transcends the limits of our thought as positive though inde-
finite. Just in the same manner that on conceiving" any
bounded space, there arises a nascent consciousness of space
outside the bounds ; so, when we think of any definite cause,
there arises a nascent consciousness of a cause behind it : and
in the one case as in the other, this nascent consciousness is
in substance lake that which suggests it, though without form.
The momentmn of thought inevitably carries us beyond con-
ditioned existence to unconditioned existence ; and this ever
persists in us as the body of a thought to which we can give
no shape.

Ilence our firm belief in objective reality — a belief which
inetaphysical criticisms cannot for a moment shake. When
we are taught that a piece of matter, regarded by us as exist-
ing externally, cannot be really known, but that we can
know only certain impressions produced on us, we are yet, by
the relativity of our thought, compelled to thmk of these in
relation to A positive cause — the notion of a real existence
which generated these impressions becomes nascent. If it be
proved to us that every notion of a real existence which we
can frame, is utterly inconsistent with itself — that matter,

y4 THE RELATIVITY OF ALL KNOWLEDGE.

however conceived by us, cannot be matter as it actually is,
our conception, tbougli transfigured, is not destroyed : there
remains the sense of reality, dissociated as far as possible from
those special forms under which it was before represented in
thought. Though Philosophy condemns successively each
attempted conception of the Absolute — though it proves to us
that the Absolute is not this, nor that, nor that — though in
obedience to it we negative, one after another, each idea as it
arises ; yet, as we cannot expel the entire contents of consci-
ousness, there ever remains behind an element which passes
into new shapes. The continual negation of each particu-
lar form and limit, simply resuhs in the more or less com-
plete abstraction of all forms and limits ; and so ends in an
indefinite consciousness of the unformed and unlimited.

And here we come face to face with the ultimate diffi-
culty— How can there possibly be constituted a consciousness
of the unformed and unlimited, when, by its very nature, con-
sciousness is possible only under forms and limits ?. If every
consciousness of existence is a consciousness of existence as
conditioned, then how, after the negation of conditions, can
there be any residuum ?. Though not directly withdrawn by
the withdrawal of its conditions, must not the raw material of
consciousness be withdrawn by implication ?. Must it not van-
ish when the conditions of its existence vanish ? That
there must be a solution of this diflB.culty is manifest ; since
even those who would put it, do, as abeady sho^vn, admit
that we have some such consciousness ; and the solution ap-
pears to be that above shadowed forth. Such consciousness
is not, and cannot be, constituted by any single mental act ;
but is the product of many mental acts. In each concept there
is an element which persists. It is alike impossible for this
element to be absent from consciousness, and for it to be pre-
sent in consciousness alone : either alternative involves un-
consciousness— the one from the want of the substance ; the
other from the want of the form. But the persistence of this
element under successive conditions, necessitates a sense of it aa

THE KELATIVITY OF ALL KNOWLEDGE. 96

distinguislied from the conditions, and independent of them.
The sense of a something that is conditioned in every thought,
cannot be got rid of, because the something cannot be got rid of.
IIow then must the sense of this something be constituted ?
Evidently by combining successive concepts deprived of their
limits and conditions. We form this indefinite thought, as
we form many of our definite thoughts, by the coalescence of
a series of thoughts. Let me illustrate this. A large

complex object, having attributes too numerous to be repre-
sented at once, is yet tolerably well conceived by the union of
several representations, each standing for part of its attributes.
On thinking of a piano, there first rises in imagination its
visual appearance, to which are instantly added (though by
separate mental acts) the ideas of its remote side and of its
solid substance. A complete conception, however, involves the
strings, the hammers, the dampers, the pedals ; and while
successively adding these to the conception, the attributes first
thought of lapse mors or less completely out of consciousness.
Nevertheless, the whole group constitutes a representation of
the piano. Now as in this case we form a definite concept of
a special existence, by imposing limits and conditions in suc-
cessive acts ; so, in the converse case, by taking away the
limits and conditions in successive acts, we form an indefinite
notion of general existence. By fusing a series of states of
consciousness, in each of which, as it arises, the limitations
and conditions are abolished, there is produced a consciousness
of something unconditioned. To speak more rigor-

ously : — this consciousness is not the abstract of any one
group of thoughts, ideas, or conceptions ; but it is the abstract
of all thoughts, ideas, or conceptions. That which is common
to them all, and cannot be got rid of, is what we predicate by
the word existence. Dissociated as this becomes from each of
its modes by the perpetual change of those modes, it remains
as an indefinite consciousness of something constant imder
all modes — of being apart from its appearances. The dis-
tinction we feci between special and general existence, is the

96 THE RELATIVITY OF ALL KNOWLEDGE.

distinction between that wHch is changeable in us, and that
which is unchangeable. The contrast between the Absolute
and the Eelative in our minds, is really the contrast between
that mental element which exists absolutely, and those which
exist relatively.

By its very nature, therefore, this ultimate mental element
is at once necessarily indefinite and necessarily indestructible.
Our consciousness of the unconditioned being literally the un-
conditioned consciousness, or raw material of thought to which
in thinking we give definite forms, it follows that an ever-pre-
sent sense of real existence is the very basis of our intelligence.
As we can in successive mental acts get rid of all particular
conditions and replace them by others, but cannot get rid of
that undifferentiated substance of consciousness which is con-
ditioned anew in every thought ; there ever remains with us
a sense of that which exists persistently and independently of
conditions. At the same time that by the laws of thought
we are rigorously prevented from forming a. conception of ab-
solute existence ; we are by the laws of thought equally pre-
vented from ridding ourselves of the consciousness of absolute
existence : this consciousness being, as we here see, the obverse
of our self-consciousness. And since the only possible mea-
sure of relative validity among our beliefs, is the_degree of
their persistence in opposition to the efibrts made to change
them, it follows that this which persists at all times, under all
circimistances, and cannot cease until consciousness ceases, has
the highest validity of any.

,To sum up this somewhat too elaborate argument : — Wo
have seen how in the very assertion that all our knowledge,
properly so called, is Eelative, there is involved the assertion
that there exists a Non-relative. We have seen how, in each
step of the argument by which this doctrine is established,
the same assumption is made. "We have seen how, from tho
very necessity of thinking in relations, it follows that the
Relative is itself inconceivable, except as related to a real
Non-relative. We have Been that unless a real Non-relative

HIE IIEI.ATIVITY OF ALL KNOWLEDGE. 97

or Absolute be postulalod, the Helative itself becomes abso-
lute ; and so brings the argument to a contradiction. And on
contemplating the process of thought, we have equally seen
liow impossible it is to get rid of the .consciousness of an
actuality lying behind appearances ; and how, from this im-
possibility, results our indestnictible belief in that actuality.

CHAPTEH V.

THE RECONCILIATION.

§ 27. Thus do all lines of argunient converge to the same
conclusion. The inference reached a priori, in the last chapter,
confirms the inferences which, in the two preceding chapters,
were reached a posteriori. Those imbecilities of the under-
standing that disclose themselves when we try to answer the
highest questions of objective science, subjective science proves
to be necessitated by the laws of that understanding. We not
only learn by the frustration of all our efforts, that the reality
underlying appearances is totally and for ever inconceivable
by us ; but we also learn why, from the very nature of our
intelligence, it must be so. Finally we discover that this
conclusion, which, in its unqualified form, seems opposed to
the instinctive convictions of mankind, falls into harmony
with them when the missing qualification is supplied.
Though the Absolute cannot in any manner or degree be
known, in the strict sense of knowing, yet we find that its po-
sitive existence is a necessary datum of consciousness ; that so
long as consciousness continues, we cannot for an instant rid
it of this datum ; and that thus the belief which this datun>
constitutes, has a higher warrant than any other whatever.

Here then is that basis of agreement we set out to seek.
This conclusion which objective science illustrates, and sub-
jective science shows to be unavoidable, — this conclusion
which, while it in the main expresses the doctrine of the Eng-

THE RECONCILIATION. 99

lish school of philosopliy, recognizes also a soul of trutli in the
doctrine of the antagonist German school — this conclusion
which brings the results of speculation into harmony with those
of common sense ; is also the conclusion which reconciles Reli-
gion with Science. Common Sense asserts the existence of a
reality ; Objective Science proves that this reality cannot be
what we think it ; Subjective Science shows why we cannot
think of it as it is, and yet are compelled to think of it as ex-
isting ; and in this assertion of a Reality utterly inscrutable
in nature, Religion finds an assertion essentially coinciding
with her own. We are obliged to- regard every phenomenon
as a manifestation of some Power by which we are acted upon;
though Omnipresence is unthinkable^ yet^ as experience dis-
closes no bounds to the diffusion of phenomena, we are unable
to think of limits to the presence of this Power ; while the
criticisms of Science teach us that this Power is Incompre-
hensible. And this consciousness of an Incomprehensible
Power, called Omnipresent from inability to assign its limits,
is just that consciousness on which Religion dwells.

To understand fully how real is the reconciliation thus
reached, it will be needful to look at the respective attitudes
that Religion and Science have all. along maintained towards
this conclusion. We must observe how, all along, the imper-
fections of each have been undergoing correction by the other;
and how the final out-come of their mutual criticLsms, can be
nothing else than an entire agreement on this deepest and
widest of all truths.

§ 28. In Religion let us recognize the high merit that from
the beginning it has dimly discerned the ultimate verity, and
has never ceased to insist upon it. In its earliest and crudest
forms it manifested, however vaguely and inconsistently, an
intuition forming the germ of this highest belief in which all
philosophies finally unite. The consciousness of a mystery
is traceable in tlie rudest fetishism. Each higher religious
creed, rejecting those definite and simple interpretations of

100 THE RECONCILIATION.

Nature previously given, has become more religious by doing
this. As the quite concrete and conceivable agencies alleged
as the causes of things, have been replaced by agencies less
concrete and conceivable, the element of mystery has of ne-
cessity become more predominant. Through all its successive
phases the disappearance of those positive dogmas by which
the mystery was made unmysterious, has formed the essential
change delineated in religious history. And so Religion has
ever been approximating towards that complete recognition of
this mystery which is its goal.

For its essentially valid belief, Religion has constantly done
battle. Gross as were the disguises under which it first
espoused this belief, and cherishing this belief, though it still
is, under disfiguring vestments, it has never ceased to main-
tain and defend it. It has everywhere established and pro-
pagated one or other modification of th'e doctrine that all things
are manifestations of a Power that transcends our knowledge.
Though from age to age. Science has continually defeated it
wherever they have come in collision, and has obliged it to
relinquish one or more of its positions ; it has still held the
remaining ones with undiminished tenacity. No exposure of
the logical inconsistency of its conclusions — no proof that each
of its particular dogmas was absurd, has been able to weaken
its allegiance to that ultimate verity for which it stands.
After criticism has abolished all its arguments and reduced it
to silence, there has still remained with it the indestructible
consciousness of a truth which, however faulty the mode in
which it had been expressed, was yet a truth beyond cavil.
To this conviction its adherence has been substantially sincere.
And for the guardianship and diffusion of it. Humanity has
ever been, and must ever be, its debtor.

But while from the beginning, Religion has had the all-
essential office of preventing men from being wholly absorbed
in the relative or immediate, and of awakening them to a con-
sciousness of something beyond it, this office has been but very
imperfectly discharged. Religion has ever been more -or leas

THE RECOKCILIATION. 101

irreligious; and it continues to be pamaily irrebgioud even
now. In tlie first place, as implied above, it has all

along professed to have some knowledge of tbat wbicb tran-
scends knowledge; and bas so contradicted its own teachings.
While with one breath it has asserted that the Cause of aU
things passes understanding, it has, with the next breath,
asserted that the Cause of all things possesses such or such
attributes — can be in so far understood. In the se-

cond place, while in great part sincere in its fealty to the great
truth it has had to uphold, it has often been insincere, and
consequently iriieligious, in maintaining the untenable doc-
trines by which it has obscured this great truth. Each as-
sertion respecting the nature, acts, or motives of that Power
which the Universe manifests to us, has been repeatedly called
in question, and proved to be inconsistent with itself, oi' with
accompanying assertions. Yet each of them has been age
after age insisted on, in spite of a secret consciousness that it
would not bear examination. Just as though unaware that
its central position was impregnable, Heligion has obstinate-
ly held every outpost long after it was obviously indefen-
sible. And this naturally introduces us to the third and
most serious form of irreligion which Religion has displayed ;
namely, an imperfect belief in that which it especially professes
to believe. How truly its central position is impregnable, He-
ligion has never adequately realized. In the devoutest faith
as we habitually see it, there Kes hidden an innermost core of
scepticism ; and it is this scepticism which causes that dread
of inquiry displayed by Religion when face to face with Science.
Obliged to abandon one by one the superstitions it once ten*
aciously held, and daily finding its cherished beKefs more and
more shaken. Religion shows a secret fear that all things may
some day be explained ; and thus itself betrays a lurking
doubt whether that Incomprehensible Cause of which it is
conscious, is really incomprehensible.

Of Religion then, we must always remember, that amid its
many errors and corruptions it has asserted and diffused a
6

Id2 THE RECONCILIATION.

BjiprpiqC ve^iiy,. .".Fionxtlie first, tlie recognition of this supreme
verity, in however imperfect a manner, has been its vital ele-
ment ; and its various defects, once extreme but gradually dimin-
ishing, have been so many failures to recognize in full that which
it recognized in part. The truly religious element of Beligion
has always been good ; that which has proved imtenable in
doctrine and vicious in practice, has been its irreligious ele-
ment ; and from this it has been ever undergoing purification.

§ 29. And now observe that all along, the agent which has
efiected the purification has been Science. We habitually
overlook the fact that this has been one of its functions.
Religion ignores its immense debt to Science ; and Science is
scarcely at all conscious how much E-cligion owes it. Yet it
is demonstrable that every step by which Beligion has pro-
gressed from its first low conception to the comparatively
high one it has now reached. Science has helped it, or rather
forced it, to take ; and that even now. Science is urging far-
ther steps in the same direction.

Using the word Science in its true sense, as comprehending all
positive and definite knowledge of the order existing among
surrounding phenomena, it becomes manifest that from the
outset, the discovery of an established order has modified that
conception of disorder, or undetermined order, which under-
lies every superstition. As fast as experience proves that
certain familiar changes always happen in the same sequence,
there begins to fade from the mind the conception of a special
personality to whose variable will they were before ascribed.
And when, step by step, accumulating observations do the like
with the less familiar changes, a similar modification of
belief takes place with respect to them.

While this process seems to those who efiect, and those
who undergo it, an anti-religious one, it is really the reverse.
Instead of the specific comprehensible agency before assigned,
there is substituted a less specific and less comprehensible
agency ; and though this, standing in opposition to the pre-

THE RECONCILIATION. 103

vious one, cannot at first call forth tlie same feeling, yet, as
being less compreiiensible, it must eventually call forth Hhis
feeling more fully. Take an instance. Of old the Sun

was regarded as the chariot of a god, drawn by horses. How
far the idea thus grossly expressed, was idealized, we need not
inquire. It suffices to remark that this accounting for the
apparent motion of the Sun by an agency like certain visible
terrestrial agencies, reduced a daily wonder to the level of the
commonest intellect. "When, many centuries after, Kepler dis-
covered that the planets moved round the Sun in ellipses and
described equal areas ia equal times, he concluded that in
each planet there must exist a spirit to guide its movements.
Here we see that with the progress of Science, there had dis-
appeared the idea of a gross mechanical traction, such as was
first assigned in the case of the Sun ; but that while for this
there was substituted an indefinite and less-easHy conceivable
force, it was still thought needful to assume a special personal
agent as a cause of the regular irregularity of motion. When,
finally, it was proved that these planetary revolutions with
all their variations and disturbances, conformed to one uni-
versal law — when the presiding spirits which Kepler con-
ceived were set aside, and the force of gravitation put in their
place ; the change was really the abolition of an imaginable
agency, and the substitution of an unimaginable one. For
though the law of gravitation is within our mental grasp, it
is impossible to realize in thought the force of gravitation.
Newton himself confessed the force of gravitation to be in-
comprehensible without the intermediation of an ether ; and,
as we have already seen, (§ 18,) the assimiption of an ether
does not in the least help us. Thus it is with

Science in general. Its progress in grouping particular
relations of phenomena under laws, and these special laws
under laws more and more general, is of necessity a pro-
gress to causes that are more and more abstract. And
causes more and more abstract, are of necessity causes less
and less conceivable; siace the formation of an abstract

104 THE RECONCILIATION.

conception involves tlie dropping of certain concrete elements
of thouglit. Hence the most abstract conception, to wliicli
Science is ever slowly approacHng, is one that merges into
the inconceivable or unthinkable, by the dropping of all con-
crete elements of thought. And so is justified the assertion,
that the beKefs which Science has forced upon Religion, have
been intrinsically more religious than those which they sup-
planted.

Science however, like Eeligion, has but very incompletely
fulfilled its office. As E-eligion has fallen short of its function
in so far as it has been irreligious ; so has Science fallen short
of its function in so far as it has been unscientific. Let us
note the several parallelisms. In its earlier stages,

Science, while it began to teach the constant relations of
phenomena, and so discredited the belief in separate per-
sonalities as the causes of them, itself substituted the belief
in causal agencies which, if not personal, were yet concrete.
When certain facts were said to show " Nature's abhorrence
of a vacuum," when the properties of gold were explained as
due to some entity called " aureity," and when the phenomena
of life were attributed to " a vital principle ; " there was set
up a mode of interpreting the facts, which, while antagonistic
to the religious mode, because assigning other agencies, was
also unscientific, because it professed to know that about
which nothing was known. Having abandoned these meta-
physical agencies — having seen that they were not inde-
pendent existences, but merely special combinations of general
causes. Science has more recently ascribed extensive groups
of phenomena to electricity, chemical affinity, and other like
general powers. But in speaking of these as ultimate and
independent entities, Science has preserved substantially
the same attitude as before. Accounting thus for aU phe-
nomena, those of Life and Thought included, it has not only
maintained its seeming antagonism to Eeligion, by alleging
agencies of a radically unlike kind ; but, in so far as it has
tacitly assumed a knowledge of these agencies, it has continued

THE RECONCILIATION. 105

anscientific. At tlie present tune, however, the most advanced
men of science are abandoning these later conceptions, as
their predecessors abandoned the earlier ones. Magnetism,
heat, light &c., which were awhile since spoken of as so
many distinct imponderables, physicists are now beginning
to regard as different modes of manifestation of some one
universal force ; and in so doing are ceasing to think of
tliis force as comprehensible. In each phase of its

progress. Science has thus stopped short with superficial
solutions — has unscientifically neglected to ask what was
the nature of the agents it so familiarly invoked; Though
in each succeeding phase it has gone a little deeper, and
merged its supposed agents in more general and abstract
ones, it has still, as before, rested content with these as
if they were ascertained realities. And this, which has
all along been the unscientific characteristic of Science, has
all along been a part cause of its conflict with Eeligion.

§ 30. We see then that from the first, the faults of both
Religion and Science have been the faults of imperfect de-
velopment.. Originally a mere rudiment, each has been
growing into a more complete form ; the vice of each has in
aU times been its incompleteness ; the disagreements between
them have throughout been nothing more than the con-
sequences of their incompleteness ; and as they reach their
final forms, they come into entire harmony.

The. progress of intelligence has throughout been dual.
Though it has not seemed so to those who made it, every step
in advance has been a step towards both the natural and the
supernatural. The better interpretation of each phenomenon
has been, on the one hand, the rejection of a cause that was
relatively conceivable in its nature but unknown in the order
of its actions, and, on the other hand, the adoption of a cause
that was known in the order of its actions but relatively in-
conceivable in its nature. The first advance out of universal
fetishism, manifestly involved the conception of agencies lesa

106 THE RECONCILIATION

assimilable to the familiar agencies of men and animals, and
tlierefore less understood ; while, at the same time, such newly-
conceived agencies in so far as they were distinguished by
their imiform effects, were better understood than those they
replaced. All subsequent advances display the same double
result. Every deeper and more general power arrived at as
a cause of phenomena, has been at once less comprehensible
than the special ones it superseded, in the sense of being less
definitely representable in thought ; while it has been more
comprehensible in the sense that its actions have been more
completely predicable. The progress has thus been as much
towards the establishment of a positively unknown as towards
the establishment of a positively known. Though as know-
ledge approaches its. culmination, every unaccountable and
seemingly supernatural fact, is brought into the category of
facts that are accountable or natural ; yet, at the same time,
all accountable or natural facts are proved to be in their ulti-
mate genesis unaccountable and supernatural. And so there
arise two antithetical states of mind, answering to the op-
posite sides of that existence about which we think. While
our consciousness of Nature under the one aspect constitutes
Science, our consciousness of it under the other aspect con-
stitutes Eeligion.

Otherwise contemplating the facts, we may say that Reli-
gion and Science have been undergoing a slow difierentiation ;
and that their ceaseless conflicts have been due to the imper-
fect separation of their spheres and functions. Religion has,
from the first, struggled to unite more or less science with its
nescience ; Science has, from 'the first, kept hold of more or
less nescience as though it were a part of science. Each has
been obliged gradually to relinquish that territory which it
wrongly claimed, while it has gained from the other that to which
It had a right ; and the antagonism between them has bewi
an inevitable accompaniment of this process. A more specific
statement will make this clear. Religion, though at

the outset it asserted a mystery, also made numerous definite

THE RECONCILIATION. 107

Bssertions respecting this mystery — professed to know its na-
ture ift the minutest detail ; and in so far as it claimed posi-
tive knowledge, it trespassed upon the province of Science.
From the times of early mythologies, when such intimate ac-
quaintance with the mystery was alleged, down to our own
days, when but a few abstract and vague propositions are
maintained, ReKgion has been compelled by Science to give
up one after another of its dogmas — of those assumed cogni-
tions which it could not substantiate. In the mean time,
Science substituted for the personalities to which HeKgion
ascribed phenomena, certain metaphysical entities ; and in
doing this it trespassed on the province of Religion ; since it
classed among the things which it comprehended, certain
forms of the incomprehensible. Partly by the criticisms of
Kcligion, which has occasionally called in question its assump-
tions, and partly as a consequence of spontaneous growth,
Science has been obliged to abandon these attempts to include
within the boimdaries of knowledge that which cannot be
known ; and has so yielded up to Religion that which of
right belonged to it. So long as this process of

differentiation is incomplete, more or less of antagonism
must continue. Gradually as the limits of possible cognition
are established, the causes of conflict will diminish. And
a permanent peace wiU be reached when Science becomes
fully convinced that its explanations are proximate and re-
lative; while Religion becomes fully convinced that the
mystery it contemplates is idtimate and absolute.

Religion and Science are therefore necessarj' correlatives.
As already hinted, they stand respectively for those two anti-
thetical modes of consciousness which cannot exist asunder.
A known cannot be thought of apart from an* unknown ; nor
can an unkno^vn be thought of apart from a known. And by
consequence neither can become more distinct without giving
greater distinctness to the other. To carry further a meta-
phor before used, — they are the positive and negative poles of

108 THE RECONCILIATION.

thought ; of which neither can gain in intensity without in-
creasing the intensity of the other.

§ 31. Thus the consciousness of an Inscrutahle Power mani-
fested to us through all phenomena, has been growing ever
clearer ; and must eventually be freed from its imperfections.
The certainty that on the one hand such a Power exists, while
on the other hand its nature traYiscends intuition and is be-
yond imagination, is the certainty towards which intelligence
has from the fiist been progressing. To this conclusion
Science inevitably arrive"^' a^ it reaches its confines ; while to
this conclusion Religion is irresistibly driven by criticism.
And satisfying as it does the demands of the most rigorous
logic at the same time that it gives the religious sentiment
the widest possible sphere of action, it is the conclusion we
are bound to accept without reserve or qualification.

Some do indeed allege that though the Ultimate Cause of
things cannot really be thought of by us as having specified
attributes, it is yet incumbent upon us to assert these attri-
butes. Though the forms of our consciousness are such that
the Absolute cannot in any manner or degree be brought
within them, we are nevertheless told that we must represent
the Absolute to ourselves under these forms. As writes Mr
Mansel, iii the work from which I have already quoted largely
— " It is our duty, then, to think of God as personal ; and it
is our duty to believe that He is infinite."

That this is not the conclusion here adopted, needs hardly
be said. If there be any meaning in the foregoing argu-
ments, duty requires us neither to afiirm nor deny personality.
Our duty is to submit ourselves with all humility to the
established limits of our intelligence ; arid not perversely to
rebel against them. Let those who can, believe that there is
eternal war set between our intellectual faculties and our mo-
ral obligations. I for one, admit no such radical vice in the
constitution of things.

THE RECONCILIATION. 109

This which to most will seem an essentially irreligious po-
sition, is an essentially religious one — nay is the religious one,
to which, .as already shown, all others are but approximations.
In the estimate it implies of the Ultimate Cause, it does not
fall short of the alternative position, but exceeds it. Those
who espouse this alternative position, make the erroneous as-
sumption that the choice is between personality and some-
thing lower than personality ; whereas the choice is rather
between personality and something higher. Is it not just
possible that there is a mode of being as much transcending
Intelligence and Will, as these transcend mechanical motion ?
It is true that we are totally imable to conceive any such
higher mode of being. But this is not a reason for question-
ing its existence ; it is rather the reverse. Have we net seen
how utterly incompetent our minds are to form even an ap-
proach tcf a conception of that which underKes all phe-
nomena ? Is it not proved that this incompetency is the incom-
petency of the Conditioned to grasp the Unconditioned ? Does
it not follow that the Ultimate Cause cannot in any respect be
conceived by us because it is in every respect greater than can
be conceived? And may we not therefore rightly refrain
from assigning to it any attributes whatever, on the ground
that such attributes, derived as they must be from our own
natures, are not elevations but degradations ? Indeed it seems
somewhat strange that men should suppose the highest wor-
ship to lie in assimilating the object of their worship to them-
selves. Not in asserting a transcendant difference, but in as-
serting a certain likeness, consists the element of their creed
which they think essential. It is true that from the time
when the rudest savages imagined the causes of all things to
be creatures of flesh and blood like themselves, doT^^l to our
o\^Ti time, the degree of assumed likeness has been diminishing.
But though a bodily form and substance similar to that of man,
has long siace ceased, among cultivated races, to be a literally-
conceived attribute of the Ultimate Cause— though the grosser
human desires have been also rejected as unfit elements of the

110 THE RECONCILIATION.

conception — thougli there is some hesitation in ascribing even
the higher human feelings, save in greatly idealized shapes ;
yet it is stiU thought not only proper, but imperative, to
ascribe the most abstract qualities of our nature. To think of
the Creative Power as in all respects anthropomorphous, is now
considered impious by men who yet hold themselves bound to
think of the Creative Power as in some respects anthropomor-
phous ; and who do not see that the one proceeding is but an
evanescent form of the other. And then, most marvellous of
all, this course is persisted in even by those who contend that
we are wholly unable to frame any conception whatever of
the Creative Power. After it has been shown that every sup-
position respecting the genesis of the Universe commits us to
alternative impossibilities of thought — after it has been
shown that each attempt to conceive real existence ends in an
intellectual suicide— after it has been shown why, by the very
constitution of our minds, we are eternally debarred from
thinking of the Absolute ; it is still asserted that we ought
to think of the Absolute thus and thus. In all imaginable
ways we find thrust upon us the truth, that we are not per-
mitted to know — nay are not even permitted to conceive —
that Reality which is behind the veil of Appearance; and
yet it is said to be our duty to believe (and in so far to con-
ceive) that this Reality exists in a certain defined manner.
Shall we call this reverence? or shall we call it the reverse ?
Volumes might be written upon the impiety of the pious.
Through the printed and spoken thoughts of religious teachers,
may almost everywhere be traced a professed familiarity with
the ultimate mystery of things, which, to say the least of it,
seems anything but congruous with the accompanying expres-
sions of humility. And surprisingly enough, those tenets which
most clearly display this familiarity, are those insisted upon
an forming the vital elements of religious belief The attitude
thus assumed, can be fitly represented only by further develop-
ing a simile long current in theological controversies — the
liimile of the watch. If for a moment we made the grotesque

THE RECONCILIATION. Ill

fiupijosition that the tickings and other movements of a watch
constituted a kind of consciousness ; and that a watch po:ses8ed
of such a consciousness, insisted on regarding the watchmaker's
actions as determined like its own by springs and escapements ;
we should simply complete a parallel of which religious
teachers think much. And were we to suppose that a watch
not only formulated the cause of its existence in these
mechanical terms, but held that watches were bound out of
reverence so to formulate this cause, and even vituperated, as
atheistic watches, any that did not venture so to formulate it ;
we should merely illustrate the presumption of theologians by
carrying their own argument a step further. A few

extracts will bring home to the reader the justice of this
comparison. "We are told, for example, by one of high
repute among religious thinkers, that the Universe is ** the
manifestation and abode of a Free Mind, like our own ^ em-
]:)odying His personal thought in its adjustments, realizing
His own ideal in its phenomena, just as we express our inner
faculty and character through the natural language of an ex-
ternal life. In this view, we interpret Nature by Humanity ;
we find the key to her aspects in such purposes and affections
as our own consciousness enables us to conceive ; we look
everywhere for physical signals of an ever-living Will ; and
decipher the universe as the autobiography of an Infinite
Spirit, repeating itself in miinature within our Finite Spirit."
The same writer goes stiU further. He not only thus parallels
the assimilation of the watchmaker to the watch, — he not only
thinks the created can " decipher " " the autobiography " of
the Creating ; but he asserts that the necessary limits of the
one are necessary limits of the other. The primary qualities
of bodies, he says, " belong eternally to fhe material datum ob-
jective to God" and control his acts; while the secondary
ones are " products of pure Inventive Heason and Determining
Will" — constitute *' the realm of Divine originality." * * *
"■ While on tliis Secondary field His Mind and om-s are thus
contrasted, they meet in resemblance again upon the Primary :

112 THE RECONCILIATION.

for the evolutions of deductive Reason there is but one track
possible to all intelligences ; no merum arhitrium can inter-
change the false and .true, or make more than one geometry,
one scheme of pure Physics, for all worlds ; and the Omnipo-
tent Architect Himself, in realizing the Kosmical conception,
in shaping the orbits out of immensity and determining seasons
out of eternity, could but follow the laws of curvature, mea-
sure and proportion." That is to say, the Ultimate Cause is like
a human mechanic, not only as "shaping" the "material datum
objective to " Him, but also as being obliged to conform to
the necessary properties of that datum." Nor is this all.
There follows some account of " the Divine psychology," to
the extent of sajdng that " we learn " " the character of God
— the order of affections in Him " from " the distribution of
authority in the hierarchy of our impulses." In other words,
it is alleged that the Ultimate Cause has desires that are to bo
classed as higher and lower like our own.* Every

one has heard of the king who wished he had been present at
the creation of the world, that he might have given good ad-
vice. He was humble however compared with those who pro-
fess to understand not only the relation of the Creating to the
created, but also, how the Creating is constituted. And yet
this transcendent audacity, which claims to penetrate the
secrets of the Power manifested to us through all existence —
nay even to stand behind that Power and note the conditions
to its action— this it is which passes current as piety ! !May
we not without hesitation affirm that a sincere recognition of
the truth that our own and all other existence is a mystery
absolutely and for ever beyond our comprehension, contains
more of true religion than all the dogmatic theology ever
written r

Meanwhile let us recognize whatever of permanent good
there is in these persistent attemj^ts to frame conceptions of
that which cannot be conceived. From the beginning it has

♦ These extracts are from an article cutitlcd " Nature and God," published in
the National Review fur October, I860.

THE RECONCILIATION. 113

boen only through, the successive failures of such conceptions
to satisfy the mind, that higher and higher ones have been
gradually reached; and doubtless, the conceptions now current
are indispensable as transitional modes of thought. Even
more than this may be williQgly conceded. It is possible,
nay probable, that under their most abstract forms, ideas of
this order wiU always continue tp occupy the background of
our consciousness. Very likely there will ever remain a need
to give shape to that indefinite sense of an Ultimate Existence,
which forms the basis of our intelligence. We shall always
be under the necessity of contemplating it as so7ne mode of be-
ing ; that is — of representing it to ourselves in some form of
thought, however vague. And we shall not err in doing'thifi
so long as we treat every notion we thus frame as merely a
symbol, utterly without resemblance to that for which it
stands. Perhaps the constant formation of such s}Tnbols and
constant rejection of them as inadequate, may be hereafter,
as it has hitherto been, a means of discipline. Perpetually to
construct ideas requiring the utmost stretch of our faculties,
and perpetually to find that such ideas must be abandoned as
futile imaginations, may realize to us more fully than any other
course, the greatness of that which we vainly strive to grasp.
Such efibrts and failures may serve to maintain in. our minds
a due sense of the incommensurable difierence between the
Conditioned and the Unconditioned. By continually seeking
to know and being coutinually thrown back with a deepened
conviction of the impossibility of knowing, we may keep alive
the consciousness that it is alike our highest wisdom and our
highest duty to regard that through which all things exist as
The Unknowable.

§ 32. An immense majority will refuse with more or less of
indignation, a belief seeming to them so shadowy and indefinite.
Having always embodied the Ultimate Cause so far as was
needful to its mental realization, they must necessarily resent
the substitution of an Ultimate Cause which cannot be men-

114 THE RECONCILTATION.

tally realized at all. " You offer us," tliey say, " an unthink-
able abstraction in place of a Being towards wbom we may
entertain definite feelings. Though, we are told that the Ab-
solute is real, yet since we are not allowed to conceive it, it
might as well be a pure negation. Instead of a Power which
we can regard as haying some sympathy with us, you would
have us contemplate a Power to which no emotion whatever
can be ascribed. And so we are to be deprived of the very
Bubstance of our faith."

This kind of protest of necessity accompanies every change
from a lower creed to a higher. The belief in a community
of nature between himself and the object of his worship, has
always been to man a satisfactory one ; and he has always
accepted with reluctance those successively less concrete con-
ceptions which have been forced upon him. Doubtless, in all
times and places, it has consoled the barbarian to think of his
deities as so exactly like himself in nature, that they could be
bribed by offerings of food ; and the assurance that deities
could not be so propitiated, must have been repugnant, be-
cause it deprived him of an easy method of gaining super-
natural protection. To the Greeks it was manifestly a source
of comfort that on occasions of difficulty they could obtain,
through oracles, the advice of their gods, — nay, might even
get the personal aid of their gods in battle ; and it was pro-
bably a very genuine anger which they visited upon philo-
sophers who called in question these gross ideas of their my-
thology. A religion which teaches the Hindoo that it is
impossible to purchase eternal happiness by placing himself
under the wheel of Juggernaut, can scarcely fail to seem a
cruel one to him; since it deprives him of the pleasurable
consciousness that he can at will exchange miseries for joys.
Nor is it less clear that to our Catholic ancestors, the behofs
that crimes could be compounded for by the building of
churches, that their own pmiishments and those of their re-
latives could bo abridged by the saying of masses, and that
divine aid or forgiveness might be gained through the inter-

THE RECONCILIATION. 115

cession of saints, were highly solacing ones ; and that Pro-
testantism, in substituting the conception of a God so com-
paratively unlike ourselves as not to be influenced by sucli
methods, must have appeared to them hard and cold.
Naturally, therefore, we must expect a further step in the
same direction to meet with a similar resistance from outraged
sentiments. No mental revolution can be accomplished

without more or less of laceration. Be it a change of habit or
a change of conviction, it must, if the habit or conviction be
strong, do violence to some of the feeKngs ; and these must
of course oppose it. For long-experienced, and therefore
definite, sources of satisfaction, have to be substituted sources
of satisfaction that have not been experienced, and are
therefore indefinite. That which is relatively well known
and real, has to be given up for that which is relatively
unknown and ideal. And of course such an exchange cannot
be made without a conflict involving pain. Espe-

cially then must there arise a strong antagonism to
any alteration in so deep and ^dtal a conception as that
with which we are here dealing. Underlying, as this
conception does, all others, a modification of it threatens to
reduc3 the superstructure to ruins. Or to change the
metaphor — being the root with which are connected our
ideas of goodness, rectitude, or duty, it appears impossible
that it should be transfonned without causing these to
Avither away and die. The whole higher part of the nature
almost of necessity takes up arms against a change which, by
destroying the established associations of thought, seems
to eradicate morahty.

This is by no means all that has to be said for such pro-
tests. There is a much deeper meaning in them. They do
not simply express the natural repugnance to a revolution of
belief, here made specially intense by the vital importance of
tlie belief to be revolutionized ; but they also express an
instinctive adhesion to a belief that is in one sense the best
—the best for those who thus cling to it, though not ah-

116 THE RECONCILIATION.

stractedly tKe best. For here let me remark that

what were above spoken of as the imperfections of Religion,
at first great but gradually diminishing, have been imperfec-
tions only as measured by an absolute standard ; and not as
measured by a relative one. Speaking generally, the religion
current in each age and among each people, has been as
near an approximation to the truth as it was then and there
possible for men to receive : the more or less concrete forma
in which it has embodied the truth, have simply been the
means of making thinkable what would otherwise have been
unthinkable ; and so have for the time being served to
increase its impressiveness. If we consider the con-

ditions of the case, we shall find this to be an unavoidable
conclusion. During each stage of evolution, men must think
in such terms of thought as they possess. While all the
conspicuous changes of which they can observe the origins,
have men and animals as antecedents, they are unable to
think of antecedents in general under any other shapes ; and
hence creative agencies are of necessity conceived by them
in these shapes. If during this phase, these concrete con-
ceptions were taken from them, and the attempt made to
give them comparatively abstract conceptions, the result
would be to leave their minds with none at all ; since the
substituted ones could not be mentally represented. Simi-
larly with every successive stage of religious belief, down to
the last. Though, as accumulating experiences slowly mo-
dify the earliest ideas of causal personalities, there grow up
more general and vague ideas of them ; yet these cannot be
at once replaced by others still more general and vague.
Further experiences must supply the needful further abstrac-
tions, before the mental void left by the destruction of such
Inferior ideas can be filled by ideas of a superior order. Aiid
at the present time, the refusal to abandon a relatively concrete
notion for a relatively abstract one, implies the inability to
frame the relatively abstract one ; and so proves that the
change would be premature and injurious. StLQ

THE RECONCILIATION. 117

more clearly shall we see tlie injuriousness of any such
premature change, on observing that the effects of a belief
upon conduct must be diminished in proportion as the vivid-
ness with which it is realized becomes less. Evils and
benefits akin to those which the savage has personally felt,
or learned from those who have felt them, are the only evils
and benefits he can understand ; and these must be looked
for as coming in ways like those of which he has had ex-
perience. His deities must be imagined to have like mo-
tives and passions and methods with the beings around him ;
for motives and passions and methods of a higher character,
being unknown to him, and in great measure unthinkable by
him, cannot be so realized in thought as to influence his
deeds. During every phase of civilization, the actions of
the Unseen Reality, as well as the resulting rewards and
punishments, being conceivable only in such forms as ex-
perience furnishes, to supplant them by higher ones before
wider experiences have made higher ones conceivable, is to
set up vague and uninfluential motives for definite and in-
fluential ones. Even now, for the great mass of men,
unable through lack of culture to trace out with due clear-
ness those good and bSd consequences which conduct brings
•round through the established order of tho Unknowable, it is
needful that there should be vividly depicted future torments
and future joys — ^pains and pleasures of a definite kind, produced
in a manner direct and simple enough to be clearly ima-
gined, l^ay still more must be conceded. Few if any
are as yet fitted wholly to dispense with such conceptions as are
current. The highest abstractions take so great a mental power
to realize with any vividness, and are so inoperative upon con-
duct unless they are vividly realized, that their regulative ef-
fects must for a long period to come be appreciable on but a
small minority. To see clearly how a right or wrong act
generates consequences, internal and external, that go on
branching out more widely as years progress, requires a rare
power of analysis. To mentally represent even a single series

118

THE RECONCILIATION.

of these consequences, as it stretclies out into the remote future,
requires an equally rare power of imagination. And to esti-
mate these consequences in their totality, ever multiplying in
number while diminishing in intensity, requires a grasp of
thought possessed by none. Yet it is only by such analysis,
such imagination, and such grasp, that canduct can be right-
ly guided in the absence of all other control : only so can ul-
timate rewards and penalties be made to outweigh proximate
pains and pleasures. Indeed, were it not that throughout the
progress of the race, men's experiences of the effects of conduct
have been slowly generalized into principles — were it not that
these principles have been from generation to generation in-
sisted on by parents, upheld by public opinion, sanctified by re-
ligion, and enforced by threats of eternal damnation for dis-
obedience— were it not that under these potent influences,
habits have been modified, and the feelings proper to them
made innate — were it not, in short, that we have l)een
rendered in a considerable degree organically moral ; it is
certain that disastrous results would ensue from the removal
of those strong and distinct motives which the current belief
supplies. Even as it is, those who relinquish the faith in
which they have been brought up, for £his most abstract faith
in which Science and Religion unite, may not uncommonly
fail to act up to their convictions. Left to their organic mor-
ality, enforced only by general reasonings imperfectly wrought
out and diflQ.cult to keep before the mind, their defects of
nature will often come out more strongly than they would
have done under their previous creed. The substituted creed
can become adequately operative only when it becomes, like
the present one, an element in early education, and has the
support of a strong social sanction. Nor will men be quite
ready for it until, through the continuance of a discipline
which has already partially moulded them to the conditions
of social existence, they are completely moulded to those
conditions.

"We must therefore recognize the resistance to a change of

THE RECONCILIATIOir. 119

theological opinion, as in great measure salutary. It is not
simply tliat strong and deep-rooted feelings are necessarily
excited to antagonism — it is not simply tliat the highest moral
sentiments join in the condemnation of a change which seems
to undermine their authority ; but it is that a real adaptation
exists between an established belief and the natures of those
who defend it ; and that the tenacity of the defence measures
the completeness of the adaptation. Forms of religion, like forms
of government, must be fit for those who live under them ; and
iu the one case as in the other, that form which is fittest is that
for which there is an instinctive preference. As certainly as a
barbarous race needs a harsh terrestrial rule, and habitually
shows attachment to a despotism capable of the necessary
rigour ; so certainly does such a race need a belief in a celes-
tial rule that is similarly harsh, and habitually shows attach-
ment to such a belief. And just in the same way that the sud-
den substitution of free institutions for tyrannical ones, is sure
to be followed by a reaction ; so, if a creed full of dreadful
ideal penalties is all at once replaced by one presenting ideal
penalties that are comparatively gentle, there will inevitably
be a return to some modification of the old belief. The

parallelism holds yet further. During those early stages in
which tfiere is an extreme incongruity between the relatively
best and the absolutely best, both political and religious changes,
when at rare intervals they occur, are necessarily violent ; and
necessarily entail violent retrogressions. But as the incongruity
between that which is and that which should be, diminishes, the
changes become more moderate, and are succeeded by more mo-
derate retrogressions ; until, as these movements and counter-
movements decrease in amount and increase in frequency,
they merge into an almost continuous growth. That adhesion
to old institutions and beliefs, which, in primitive societies,
opposes an iron barrier to any advance, and which, after the
barrier has been at length burst through, brings back the in-
stitutions and beliefs from that too-forward position to which
the momentum of change had carried them, and so helps to

120 THE RECONCILIATION.

re-adapt social conditions to the popular cliaracter — this adhe-
sion to old institution and beliefs, eventually becomes the con-
stant check by which the constant advance is prevented from
being too rapid. This holds true of religious creeds and forms,
as of civil ones. And so we learh that theological conserva-
tism, like political conservatism, has an all-important function.

§ 33. That spirit of toleration which is so marked a charac-
teristic of modern times, and is daily growing more conspicu- '
ous, has thus a far deeper meaning than is supposed. What
we commonly regard simply as a due respect for the right of
private judgment, is really a necessary condition to the bal-
ancing of the progressive and conservative tendencies — is a
means of maintaining the adaptation between men's beliefs
and their natures. It is therefore a spirit to be fostered ; and
it is a spirit which the catholic thinker, who perceives the func-
tions of these various conflicting creeds, should above all other
men display. Doubtless whoever feels the greatness

of the error to which his fellows cling and the greatness of the
truth which they reject, will find it hard to show a due pa-
tience. It is hard for him to listen calmly to the futile argu-
ments used in support of irrational doctrines, and to the mis-
representation of antagonist doctrines. It is hard for him to
bear the manifestation of that pride of ignorance which so far
exceeds the pride of science. Naturally enough such a one
wiU be indignant when charged with irreligion because he
declines to accept the carpenter- theory of creation as the most
worthy one. He may think it needless as it is difficult, to con-
ceal his repugnance to a creed which tacitly ascribes to The
Unknowable a love of adulation such as would be despised in
a human being. Convinced as he is that aU punishment, as
we see it wrought out in the order of nature, is but a disguised
beneficence, there wiU perhaps escape from him an angry con-
demnation of the belief that punishment is a divine vengeance,
and that divine vengeance is eternal. lie may be tempted to
fchow his contempt when he is told that actions instigated by

TliE ilECON'ClLIATION. 121

ail unselfish, sjrmpathy or by a pure love of rectitude, are
intrinsically sinful; and that conduct is truly good only
when it is due to a faith wliose openly-professed motive is
other- worldliness. But lie must restrain such feelings. Though
he may be unable to do this during the excitement of contro-
versy, or wben otherwise brought face to face with current
superstitions, he must yet qualify his antagonism in calmer
moments ; so that his mature judgment and resulting conduct
may be without bias.

To this end let him ever bear in mind three cardinal
facts — two of them already dwelt upon, and one still to be
pointed out. The first is that with which we set

out ; namely the existence of a fundamental verity under
all forms of religion, however degraded. In each of them
there is a soul of truth. Through the gross body of. dogmas
traditions and rites which contain it, it is always visible —
dimly or clearly as the case may be. This it is which gives
vitality even to the rudest creed ; this it is which survives
every modification ; and this it is which we must not forget
when condemning the forms under which it is present-
ed. The second of these cardinal facts, set forth at
length in the foregoing section, is, that while those concrete
elements in which each creed embodies this soul of truth,
are bad as measured by an absolute standard, they are good
as measured by a relative standard. Though from higher
perceptions they hide the abstract verity within them ; yet
to lower perceptions they render this verity more appreciable
than it would otherwise be. They serve to make real and
influential over men, that which would else be unreal and unin-
fluential. Or we may call them the protective envelopes,
without which the contained truth would die. The
remaining cardinal fact is, that these various beliefs are
parts of the constituted order of things ; and not accidental
but necessary parts. Seeing liow one or other of them is
everywhere present ; is of perennial growth ; and when
cut down, redevelopes in a form but slightly modified ; we

122 THE RECONCILIATION. '

cannot aroid the inference tliat they are needful accompani-
ments of human life, severally fitted to the societies in
which they are indigenous. From the highest point of
view, we must recognize them as elements in that great
evolution of which the beginning and end are beyond our
knowledge or conception — as modes of manifestation of The
Unknowable ; and as having this for their warrant.

Our toleration therefore should be the widest possible. Or
rather, we should aim at something beyond toleration, as com-
monly understood. In dealing with alien beliefs, our endea-
vour must be, not simply to refrain from injustice of word or
deed ; but also to do justice by an open recognition of positive
worth. "We must qualify our disagreement with as much as
may be of sympathy.

§ 34. These admissions will perhaps be held to imply, that
the current theology should be passively accepted ; or, at any
rate, should not be actively opposed. " "Why," it may be
asked, " if all creeds have an average fitness to their times and
places, should we not rest content with that to which we are
born? If the established belief contains an essential truth
— if the forms under which it presents this truth, though
intrinsically bad, are extrinsically good — if the abolition of
these forms would be at present detrimental to the great ma-
jority— nay, if there are scarcely any to whom the ultimate
and most abstract belief can furnish an adequate rule of life ;
surely it is wrong, for the present at least, to propagate this
ultimate and most abstract belief."

The reply is, that though existing religious ideas and in-
stitutions have an average adaptation to the characters of the
people who live under them ; yet, as these characters are ever
changing, the adaptation is ever becoming imperfect ; and the
ideas and institutions need remodelling with a frequency pro-
portionate to the rapidity of l!he change. Ilence, while it is
requisite that free play should be given to conservative thought
and action, progressive thought and action must also have free

TTIE RECOKCILIATION. 123

play. Without tlie agency of both, there cannot be those con-
tinual re-adaptations which orderly progress demands.

AYhoever hesitates to utter that which he thinks the high-
est truth, lest it should be too much in advance of the time,
may reassure himself by looking at his acts from an imper-
sonal point of view. Let him duly realize the fact that opin-
ion is the agency through which character adapts external
arrangements to itself — that his opinion rightly forms part of
this agency — ^is a unit of force, constituting, with other such
units, the general power which works out social changes ; and
he wiU perceive that he may properly give full utterance to
liis innermost conviction : leaving it to produce what effect it
may. It is not for nothing that he has in him these sympa-
thies with some principles and repugnance to others. lie,
with all his capacities, and aspirations, and beliefs, is not an
accident, but a product of the time. He must remember that
while he is a descendant of the past, he is a parent of the fu-
ture ; and that his thoughts are as children bom to him,
which he may not carelessly let die. He, like every other
man, may properly consider himself as one of the myriad
agencies through whom works the Unknown Cause ; and
when the Unknown Cause produces in him a certain belief,
he is thereby authorized to profess and act out that belief.
For, to render in their highest sense the words of the poet —

Nature is made better by no mean,

But nature makes that mean : over that art
Which you say adds to nature, is an art
That nature makes.

Not as adventitious therefore will the wise man regard the
faith which is in him. The highest truth he sees he will,
fearlessly utter ; knowing that, let what may come of it, he is
thus playing his right part in the world — knowing that if he
can effect the change he aims at — well : if not — well also ,
though not 80 welL

PART IL
THE KNOWABLB.

CHAPTER I.

PHILOSOPHY DEFINED.

§ 35. AftePu concluding tliat we cannot know the ulti-
mate nature of tliat wMch is manifested to us, there arise
the questions — ^What is it that we know ? In what sense
do we know it ? And in what consists our highest knowledge
of it ? Having repudiated as impossible the Philosophy
which professes to formulate Being as distinguished from
Appearance, it becomes needful to say what Philosophy
truly is — ^not simply to specify its limits, but to specify its
character within those limits. Given a certain sphere as the
sphere to which human intelligence is restricted, and there
remains to define the peculiar product of human intelli-
gence which may still be called Philosophy.

In doing this, we may advantageously avail ourselves of
the method followed at the outset, of separating from con-
ceptions that are partially or mainly erroneous, the element
of truth they contain. As in the chapter on " Religion and
Science,^' it was inferred that religious beliefs, wrong as
they might individually be in their particular forms, never-
theless probably each contained an essential verity, and that
this was most likely common to them all ; so in this place it
is to be inferred that past and present beliefs respecting the
nature of Philosophy, are none of them wholly false, and
that that in which they are true is that in which they agree.
We have here, then, to do what was done there — '^ to com-
pare all opinions of the same genus ; to set aside as more or

128 PHILOSOPHY DEFINED.

less discrediting one another tliose various special and con-
crete elements in wHcli sucli opinions disagree ; to observe
what remains after the discordant constituents have been
cJiminated ; and to find for this remaining constituent that
[ibstract expression which holds true throughout its diver-
gent modifications/'

§ 36. Earlier speculations being passed over^ we see
that among the Greeks, before there had arisen any netion
of Philosophy in general,, apart from particular forms of
Philosophy, the particular forms of it from which the
general notion was to arise, were hypotheses respecting
some universal principle that constituted the essence of all
concrete kinds of being. To the question — " What is that
invariable existence of which these are variable states ?''
there were sundry answers — Water, Air, Fire. A class
of hypotheses of this all-embracing character having been
propounded, it became possible for Pythagoras to conceive
of Philosophy in the abstract, as knowledge the most remote
from practical ends ; and to define it as " knowledge of im-
material and eternal things :" ^^ the cause of the material
existence of things,^' being, in his view, Number. There-
after, we find continued a pursuit of Philosophy as some
ultimate interpretation of the Universe, assumed to be pos-
sible, whether actually reached in any case or not. And in
the course of this pursuit, various such ultimate interpreta-
tions were given as that '^ One is the beginning of all
things /' that '' the One is God ," that '' the One is Einite ;"
that ^^ the One is Infinite -/' that *"' Intelligence-is the govern-
ing principle of things ; " and so on. From all which it is
plain that the knowledge supposed to constitute Philosophy,
differed from other knowledge in its transcendent, exhaustive
character. In the subsequent course of speculation,

after the Sceptics had shaken men's faith in their powers of
reaching such transcendent knowledge, there grew up a
much-restricted conception of Philosophy. Under Socrates,

PHILOSOPHY DEFINED. 129

aad still more under the Stoics, PhilosopLy became little
else than tlie doctrine of riglit living. Its subject-matter
was practically cut down to the proper ruling of conduct,
public and private. Not indeed tliat tbe proper ruling of
conduct, as conceived by sundry of tlie later Greek tbinkers
to constitute subject-matter of PHlosopby, answered to what
was popularly understood by tbe proper ruling of conduct.
The injunctions of Zeno were not of the same class as those
which guided men from early times downwards, in their
daily observances, sacrifices, customs, all having more or
less of religious sanction ; but they were principles of action
(^iiunciated without reference to times, or persons, or special
cases. What, then, was the constant element in

these unlike ideas of Philosophy held by the ancients ?
Clearly the character in which this last idea agrees with tho
first, is that within its sphere of inquiry, Philosophy seeks for
wide and deep truths, as distinguished from the multitudi-
nous detailed truths which the sm-faces of things and actions
present.

By comparing the conceptions of Philosophy that have
been current in modern times, wo get a like result. Tho
disciples of Schelling, Fichte, and their kindred, join the
Hegelian in ridiculing the so-called Philosophy which has
usurped the title in England. Not without reason, they
laugh on reading of " Philosophical instruments ;'^ and would
deny that any one of the papers in the Philosoj)hical TranS'
actions has the least claim to come under such a title. Petali-
ating on their critics, the English may, and most of them do,
reject as absurd the imagined Philosophy of the German
schools. As consciousness cannot be transcended, they hold
that whether consciousness does or does not vouch for 'tho
existence of something beyond itself, it at any rate cannot
comprehend that something; and that hence, in so far as any
Philosophy professes to be an Ontology, it is false. These
two views cancel one another over large parts of their
areas. The English criticism on the Germans, cuts off froo

ISO PHILOSOPHY DEFINED.

PMlosophy all tliat is regarded as absolute knowledge.
The German criticism on tlie English tacitly implies that if
Philosophy is limited to the relative^ it is at any rate not
concerned with those aspects of the relative which are em-
bodied in mathematical formulae, in accounts of physical
researches, in chemical analyses, or in descriptions of species
and reports of physiological experiments. Now

what has the too-wide German conception in common with
the conception general among English men of science;
which, narrow and crude as it is, is not so narrow and crude
as their misuse of the word philosophical indicates ? The two
have this in common, that neither Germans nor English apply
the word to unsystematized knowledge — to knowledge quite
uncoordinated with other knowledge. Even the most limited
specialist would not describe as philosophical, an essay which,
dealing wholly with details, manifested no perception of tho
bearings of those details on wider truths.

The vague idea thus raised of that in which the various
conceptions of Philosophy agree, may be rendered more defi-
nite by comparing what has been known in England as
Natural Philosophy with that development of it called Posi-
tive Philosophy. Though, as M. Comte admits, the two
consist of knowledge essentially the same in kind ; yet, by
having put this kind of knowledge into a more coherent
form, he has given it more of that character to which the
term philosophical is applied. Without expressing any
opinion respecting the truth of his co-ordination, it must be
conceded that by the fact of its co-ordination, the body of
knowledge organized by him has a better claim to the title
Philosophy, than has the comparatively-unorganized body of
knowledge named Natural Philosophy.

K subdivisions of Philosophy, or more special forms of it,
be contrasted with one another, or with the whole, the same
implication comes out. Moral Philosophy and Political
Philosophy, agree with Philosophy at large in the compre-
hensiveness of their reasonings and conclusions. Though

PHILOSOPHY DEFINED. 131

under tlio head of Moral Pliilosopliy, we treat of tuman ac-
tions as right or wrongs we do not include special directions
for behaviour in the nursery, at table, or on the exchange ;
and though Political Philosophy has for its topic the conduct
of men in their public relations, it does not concern itself
with modes of voting or details of administration. Both of
these sections of Philosophy contemplate particular instances,
only as illustrating truths of wide application.

§ 37. Thus every one of* these conceptions implies the
belief in a possible way of knowing things more completely
than they are known through simple experiences, mechani-
cally accumulated in memory or heaped up in cyclopaedias.
Though in the extent of the sphere which they have sup-
posed Philosophy to fiU, men have differed and still differ
very widely; yet there is a real if unavowed agreement
among them in signifying by this title a knowledge which
transcends ordinary knowledge. That which remains as tho
common element in these conceptions of Philosophy, after
the elimination of their discordant elements, is — hnowledge
of the highest degree of generality, "We see this tacitly
asserted by the simultaneous inclusion of God, Nature, and
Man, within its scope ; or still more distinctly by the divi-
sion of Philosophy as a whole into Theological, Physical,
Ethical, &c. For that which characterizes the genus ot
which these are species, must be something more general
than that which distinguishes any one species.

What must be the specific shape here given to this con-
ception ? The range of intelligence we find to be limited to
the relative. Though persistently conscious of a Power
manifested to us, we have abandoned as futile the attempt
to learn anything respecting the nature of that Power ; and
so have shut out Philosophy from much of the domain sup-
posed to belong to it. The domain left is that occupied by
Science. Science concerns itself with the co-existences and
sequences among phenomena ; grouping these at first into

132 PHILOSOPHY DEFINED.

generalizations of a simple or low order, and rising gradually
to higlier and more extended generalizations. But if so,
wliere remains any subject-matter for Pliilosopliy ?

The reply is — ^Pliilosopliy may still properly be the title
retained for knowledge of the highest generality. Science
means merely the family of the Sciences — stands for nothing
more than the sum of knowledge formed of their contribu-
tions; and ignores the knowledge constituted by the fusion
of all these contributions into a whole. As usage has de-
fined it. Science consists of truths existing more or less
separated ; and does not recognize these truths as entirely
integrated. An illustration will make the difference clear.

If we ascribe the flow of a river to the same force which
causes the fall of a stone, we make a statement, true as far
as it goes, that belongs to a certain division of Science. If,
in further explanation of a movement produced by gravita-
tion in a direction almost horizontal, we cite the law that
fluids subject to mechanical forces exert re-active forces
which are equal in all directions, we formulate a wider
fact, containing the scientific interpretation of many other
phenomena; as those presented by the fountain, the hy-
drauhc press, the steam-engine, the air-pump. And when
this proposition, extending only to tlie dynamics of fluids,
is merged in a proposition of general dynamics, comprehend-
ing the laws of movement of solids as well as of fluids,
there is reached a yet higher truth; but still a truth that comes
wholly within the realm of Science. Again, look-

ing around at Birds and Mammals, suppose we say that air-
breathing animals are hot-blooded ; and that then, remem*
bering how Eeptiles, which also breathe air, are not much
warmer than their media, we say, more truly, that animals
(bulks being equal) have temperatures proportionate to tho
quantities of air they breathe; and that then, calling to
mind certain large fish which maintain a heat considerably
above that of tho water they swim in, we further correct
the generalization by saying that tho temperature varies as

PniLOSOPHY DEFINED. 133

the rate of oxygenation of tlie blood ; and that then, modify-
ing tlie statement to meet other criticisms, we finally assert
the relation to be between the amount of heat and the
amount of molecular change — supposing we do all this, wo
state scientific truths that are successively wider and more
complete, but truths which, to the last, remain purely scien-
tific. Once more if, guided by mercantile ex-
periences, we reach the conclusion that prices rise when the
demand exceeds the supply; and that commodities flow
from places where they are abundant to places where they
are scarce ; and that the industries of difierent localities aro
determined in their kinds mainly by the facilities which the
localities afibrd for them ; and if, studying these generaliza-
tions of pohtical economy, .we trace them all to the truth
that each man seeks satisfaction for his desires in ways
costing the smallest efforts — such social phenomena being
resultants of individual actions so guided; we are stiU deal-
ing with the propositions of Science only.

And now how is Philosophy constituted? It is constituted
by carrying a stage further the process indicated. So long
as these truths are known only apart and regarded as inde-
pendent, even the most general of them cannot without
laxity of speech be called philosophical. But when, having
been severally reduced to a simple mechanical axiom, a
principle of molecular physics, and a law of social action,
they are contemplated together as corollaries of some ulti-
mate truth, then we rise to the kind of knowledge that
constitutes Philosophy proper.

TJie truths of Philosophy thus bear the same relation to
the highest scientific truths, that each of these bears
to lower scientific truths. As each widest generalization
of Science comprehends and consolidates the narrower gcnc-
rahzations of its own division; so the generalizations of
Philosophy comprehend and consolidate ths widest gonc-
rahzations of Science. It is therefore a knowledge the ex-
treme opposite in kind to that which experience first accu-

13 i PHILOSOPHY DEFINED.

mulates. It is tlie final product of tliat process wMcL
begins with a mere colligation of crude observations^ goes
on establishing propositions that are broader and more
separated from particular cases, and ends in universal pro-
positions. Or to bring the definition to its simplest and
clearest form : — Knowledge of the lowest kind is un-unified
knowledge ; Science is partially -unified knowledge ; Philo-
sophy is completely -unified knowledge.

§ 38. Such, at least, is the meaning we must here give to
the word Philosophy, if we employ it at all. In so defining
it, we accept that which is common to the various concep-
tions of it current among both ancients and moderns — ^re-
jecting those elements in which these conceptions disagree,
or exceed the possible range of intelligence. In short, we
are simply giving precision to that application of the word
which is gradually establishing itself.

Two forms of Philosophy, as thus understood, may bo
distinguished and dealt with separately. On the one hand,
the things contemplated may be the universal truths : all
particular truths referred to being used simply for proof or
elucidation of these universal truths. On the other hand,
setting out with the universal truths as granted, the things
contemplated may be the particular truths as interpreted by
them. In both cases we deal with the universal truths;
but in the one case they are passive and in the other case
active — in the one case they form the products of exploration
and in the other case the instruments of exploration. These
divisions we may appropriately call General Philosophy .and
Special Philosophy respectively.

The remainder of this volume will be devoted to General
Philosophy. Special Philosophy, divided into parts deter-
mined by the natures of the phenomena treated; will be the
subject-matter of subsequent volumes.

CHAPTEB II.

THE DATA OF PHILOSOPHY,

§ 39. Every thouglit involves a whole system of tliouglits;
and ceases to exist if severed from its various correlatives.
As we cannot isolate a single organ of a living body^ and
deal with it as thougli it.liad a life independent of tlie rest;
so^ from the organized structure of our cognitions^ we can-
not cut out one,, and proceed as though it had survived the
separation. The development of formless protoplasm into
an embryo^ is a speciahzation of parts, the distinctness of
which increases only as fast as their combination increases
•—each becomes a distinguishable organ only on condition
that it is bound up with others, which have simul-
taneously become distinguishable organs; and, similarly,
from the unformed material of consciousness, a developed
intelligence can arise only by a process which, in making
thoughts defined also makes them mutually dependent —
establishes among them certain vital connections the de-
struction of which causes instant death of the thoughts.
Overlooking this all-important truth, however, speculators
have habitually set out with some professedly-simple drftum
or data ; have supposed themselves to assume nothing
beyond this datum or these data ; and have thereupon pro-
ceeded to prove or disprove propositions which were, by im-
plication, already unconsciously asserted along with that
which was consciously asserted.

This reasoning in a circle has resulted from the misuse of

13G • THE DATA OF PHILOSOPHY.

words : not that misuse commonly enlarged upon — -not tho
misapplication or change of meaning whence so much error
arises ; but a more radical and less obvious misuse. Only
that thought which is directly indicated by each word has
been contemplated ; while numerous thoughts indirectly
indicated have been left out of consideration. Because a
spoken or written word can be detached from all others, it
has been inadvertently assumed that the thing signified by
a word can be detached from the things signified by all
other words. Though more-deeply hidden, the mistake is
of the same order as that made by the Greeks, who were
continually led astray by the belief, in some community of
nature between the symbol and that which it symbolized.
For though here community of nature is not assumed to the
same extent as of old, it is assumed to this extent, that
because the symbol is separable from all other symbols, and
can be contemplated as having an independent existence,
so the thought symbolized may be thus separated and thus
contemplated. How profoundly this error vitiates

the conclusions of one who makes it, we shall quickly see on
taking a case. The sceptical metaphysician, wishing his
reasonings to be as rigorous as possible, says to himself —
" I will take for granted only this one thing/^ What now
are the tacit assumptions inseparable from his avowed as-
sumption ? The resolve itself indirectly asserts that there is
some other thing, or are some other things, which he might
assume ; for it is impossible to think of unity without think-
ing of a correlative duality or multiplicity. In the very act,
therefore, of restricting himself, he takes in much that is
professedly left out. Again, before px'oceeding he must give
a definition of that which he assumes. Is nothing unex-
pressed involved in the thought of a thing as defined?
There is the thought of something excluded by the definition
— there is, as before, the thought of other existence. But
there is much more. Defining a thing, or setting a limit to
it, • implies the thought of a limit ; and limit cannot be

THE DATA or PHlLOSOrnY. 137

^.houglit of apart from some notion of quantity — extensive,
protensive, or intensive. Furtlier, definition is impossible
unless there enters into it the thought of difference ; and
difibrence, besides being unthinkable without having two
things that differ, implies the existence of other differences
than the one recognized ; since otherwise there can be no
general conception of difference. Nor is this all. As before
pointed out (§ 24) all thought involves the consciousness of
likeness : the one thing avowedly postulated cannot be
known absolutely as one thing, but can be known only as of
such or such kind — only as classed with other things in
virtue of some common attribute. Thus along with the
single avowed datum, we have surreptitiously brought in a
number of unavowed data — existence other than that alleged,
quantity, niimher, limit, difference, likeness, class, attribute.
Saying nothing of the many more which an exhaustive
analysis would disclose, we have in these unacknowledged
postulates, the outlines of a general theory ; and that theory
can be neither proved nor disproved by the metaphysician's
argument. Insist that his symbol shall be interpreted at
every step into its full meaning, with all the complementary
thoughts implied by that meaning, and you find already
taken for granted in the premises that which in the conclu-
sion is asserted or denied.

In what way, then, must Philosophy set out ? The
developed intelligence is framed upon certain organized
and consolidated conceptions of which it cannot divest
itself; and which it can no more stir without using than
the body can stir without help of its limbs. In what way,
then, is it possible for intelhgence, striving after Philosophy,
to give any account of these conceptions, and to show either
their validity or their invalidity? There is but one way.
Those of them which are vital, or cannot be severed from
the rest without mental dissolution, must be assumed as
true provisionally. The fundamental intuitions that are
essential to the process of thinking, must be temporarily

138 THE DATA OF PniLOSOPHY.

accepted as unquestionable : leaving the assumption of their
unquestionableness to be justified by the results.

§ 40. How is it to be justified by the results ? As any
other assumption is justified — ^by ascertaining that all the
conclusions deducible from it, correspond with the facts as
directly observed — ^by showing the agreement between the
experiences it leads us to anticipate, and the actual ex-
periences. There is no mode of establishing the vaHdity of
any belief, except that of showing its entire congruity with
all other beliefs. If we suppose that a mass which has a
certain colour and lustre is the substance called gold, how
do we proceed to prove the hypothesis that it is gold ? Wo
represent to ourselves certain other impressions which gold
produces on us, and then observe whether, under the appro-
priate conditions, this particular mass produces on us such
impressions. We remember, as we say, that gold has a high
specific gravity; and if, on poising this substance on the
finger, we find that its weight is great considering its bulk,
we take the correspondence between the represented im-
pression and the presented impression as further evidence
that the substance is gold. In response to a demand for
more proof, we compare certain other ideal and real efiects.
Knowing that gold, unlike most metals, is insoluble in
nitric acid, we imagine to ourselves a drop of nitric acid
placed on the surface of this yellow, glittering, heavy sub-
stance, without causing corrosion ; and when, after so plac-
ing a drop of nitric acid, no efiervescence or other change
follows, we hold this agreement between the anticipation
and the experience to be an additional reason for thinking
that the substance is gold. And if, similarly, the great
malleability possessed by gold we find to be paralleled by
the great malleability of this substance; if, like gold, it
fuses at about 2,000 dcg.; crystallizes in octahedrons; is dis-
solved by selenic acid ; and, under all conditions, does what
gold does under such conditions ; the conviction that it ia

THE DATA OP PHILOSOPHY. 139

gold readies wliat we regard as tlie higliest certainty — ^we
know it to be gold in tlie fullest sense of knowing. For,
as we liere see,, our wliole knowledge of gold consists in
notHng more tlian tlie consciousness of a definite set of im-
pressionSj standing in definite relations, disclosed under
definite conditions; and if, in a present experience, tke
impressions, relations, and conditions, perfectly correspond
with tliose in past experiences, tlie cognition kas all the
validity of wkick it is capable. So tkat, generalizing tlio
statement, kypotkeses, down even to tkose simple ones
wliick we make from moment to moment in our acts of re-
cognition, are verified wken entire congruity is found to
exist between tke states of consciousness constituting tkem,
and certain otker states of consciousness given in percep-
tion, or reflection, or botk ; and no otker knowledge is pos-
sible for us tkan tkat wkick consists of tke consciousness of
suck congruities and tkeir correlative incongruities.

Hence Pkilosopky, compelled to make tkose fundamental
assumptions witkout wkick tkougkt is impossible, kas to
justify tkem by skewing tkeir congruity witk all otker dicta
of consciousness. Debarred as we are from everytking
beyond tke relative, trutk, raised to its kigkest form, can be
for us notking more tkan perfect agreement, tkrougkout tke
wkole range of our experience, between tkose representa-
tions of tkings wkick we distinguisk as ideal and tkose presen-
tations of tkings wliick we distinguisk as real. If, by discover-
ing a proposition to be untrue, we mean notking more tkau
discovering a difierence between a tking expected and a
tking perceived; tken a body of conclusions in wkick no
suck difierence anywkere occurs, must be wkat we mean by
an entirely true body of conclusions.

And kere, indeed, it becomes also obvious tkat, setting
out witk tkese fundamental intuitions provisionally assumed
to be true — ^tkat is, provisionally assumed to be congruous
witk all otker dicta of consciousness — tke process of proving
or disproving tke congruity becomes tke business of Pkilo-

MO THE DATA OP PHILOSOrHY.

sophy; and the complete establisliment of tlio congiiiity
becomes tlie same thing as the complete unification of know-
ledge in which Philosophy reaches its goal.

§ 41 . What is this datum^ or rather, what are these data,
which Philosophy cannot do without? Clearly one pri-
mordial datum is involved in the foregoing statement.
Already by implication we have assumed^ and must for ever
continue to assume, that congruities and incongruities
exist, and are cognizable by us. We cannot avoid accept-
ing as true the verdict of consciousness that some mani-
festations are like one another and some are unlike one
another. Unless consciousness be a competent judge of the
likeness and unlikeness of its states, there can never bo
established that congruity throughout the whole of our
cognitions which constitutes Philosophy; nor can there ever
be established that incongruity by which only any hypo-
thesis, philosophical or other, can be shown erroneous.

The impossibility of moving towards either conviction or
scepticism without postulating thus much, we shall see even
more vividly on observing how every step in reasoning pos-
tulates thus much, over and over again. To say that all
things of a certain class are characterized by a certain attri-
bute, is to say that all things known as lilce in those various
attributes connoted by their common name, are also lihe in
having the particular attribute specified. To say that somo
object of immediate attention belongs to this class, is to say
that it is nice all the others in the various attributes con-
noted by their common name. To say that this object pos-
sesses the particular attribute specified, is to say that it is
Uhe the others in this respect also. While, contrariwise, the
assertion that the attribute thus inferred to be possessed by
it, is not possessed, implies the assertion that in place of ono
of the alleged lilccnesscs there exists an unWceness. Neither
affirmation nor denial, therefore, of any deliverance of reason,
or any clement of sucli deliverance, is possible without ac-

THE DATA OP PHILOSOPHY. 141

cepfcing the dictum of consciousness that certain of its states
are like or unlike. Wlience^ besides seeing tliat tlie unified
knowledge constituting a completed Pliilosoplij^ is a know-
ledge composed of parts that are uniyersally congruous ; and
besides seeing that it is the business of Philosophy to esta-
blish their universal congruity; we also see that every act of
the process by which this universal congruity is to be esta-
blished, down even to the components of every inference
and every observation, consists in the establishment of con-
gruity.

Consequently, the assumption that a congruity or an in-
congruity exists when consciousness testifies to it, is an in-
evitable assumption. It is useless to say, as Sir "W. Hamil-
ton does, that '^ consciousness is to be presumed trustworthy
until proved mendacious.-" It cannot be proved mendacious
in this, its primordial act ; since, as we see, proof involves a
repeated acceptance of this primordial act. iN'ay more, the
very thing supposed to be proved cannot be expressed with-
out recognizing this primordial act as valid ; since unless we
accept the verdict of consciousness that they difier, menda-
city and trustworthiness become identical. Process and
product of reasoning both disappear in the absence of this
assumption.

It may, indeed, be often shown that what, after careless
comparison, were supposed to be like states of consciousness,
are really unlike ; or that what were carelessly supposed to
be unhke, are really hke. But how is this shown ? Simply
by a more careful comparison, mediately or immediately
made. And what does acceptance of the revised conclusion
imply ? Simply that a deliberate verdict of consciousness is
preferable to a rash one ; or, to speak more definitely — that
a consciousness of likeness or difference which survives
critical examination must be accepted in place of ono that
does not survive — the very survival being itself the accept-
ance.

And here we get to the bottom of the matter. The

142

THE DATA OP riTILOSOniY.

permanence of a consciousness of likeness or difference,
is our ultimate warrant for asserting tlie existence of like-
ness or difference ; and^ in fact^ we mean by tke existence of
likeness or difference, nothing more tlian tlie permanent con-
sciousness of it. To say that a given congruity or incon-
gruity exists, is simply our way of saying tliat we invariably
have a consciousness of it along with a consciousness of the
compared things. We know nothing more of existence than
a continued manifestation.

§ 42. But Philosophy requires for its datum some substan-
tive proposition. To recognize as unquestionable a certain
fundamental process of thought, is not enough : we must
recognize as unquestionable some- fundamental jproduct of
thought, reached by this process. If Philosophy is com-
pletely-unified knowledge — ^if the unification of knowledge
is to be effected only by showing that some ultimate propo-
sition includes and consolidates all the results of experience ;
then, clearly, this ultimate proposition which has to be
proved congruous with all others, must express a piece of
knowledge, and not the validity of an act of knowing.
Having assumed the trustworthiness of consciousness, wo
have also to assume as trustworthy some deHverance of con-
sciousness.

What must this be ? Must it not be one affirming the
widest and most profound distinction which things present ?
Must it not be a statement of congruities and incongruities
more general than any other ? An ultimate principle that
is to unify all experience, must be co-extensive with all ex-
perience— cannot be concerned with experience of one order
or several orders, but must be concerned with universal ex-
perience. That which Philosophy takes as its datum, must
be an assertion of some likeness and difference to which
all other likenesses and differences are secondary. If know-
ing is classifying, or grouping the like and separating the
unlike ; and if the unification of knowledge proceeds by

THE DATA CP PHILOSOPHY. 143

Biranging the smaller classes of like experiences within tlio
larger, and these witMn the still larger ; then, the proposi-
tion by which knowledge . is unified, must be one specifying
the antithesis between two ultimate classes of experiences, in
which all others merge.

Let us now consider what these classes are. In drawing
the distinction between them, we cannot avoid using words
that have indirect implications wider than their direct mean-
ings— ^we cannot avoid arousing thoughts that imply the
very distinction which it is the object of the analysis to
establish. Keeping this fact in mind, we can do no more
than ignore the connotations of the words, and attend only
to the things they avowedly denote.

§ 43. Setting out from the conclusion lately reached,
that all things known to us are manifestations of the Un-
knowable ; and suppressing, so far as we may, every hypo-
thesis respecting the something which underlies one or other
order of these manifestations ; we find that the manifesta-
tions, considered simply as such, are divisible into two great
classes, called by some impressions and ideas. The implica-
tions of these words are apt to vitiate the reasonings of those
who use the words ; and though it may be possible to use
them only with reference to the difierential characteristics
they are meant to indicate, it is best to avoid the risk of
making unacknowledged assumptions. The term sensation,
too, commonly used as the equivalent of impression, implies
certain psychological theories — ^tacitly, if not openly, postu-
lates a sensitive organism and something acting upon it;
and can scarcely be employed without bringing these postu-
lates into the thoughts and embodying them in the in-
ferences. Similarly, the phrase state of consciousness, as
signifying either an impression or an idea, is objectionable.
As we cannot think of a state without thinking of something
of which it is a state, and which is capable of difieront
states, there is involved a foregone conclusion — an un^

144 THE DATA OP PHILOSOPHY.

developed system of metapliysics. Here, accepting tlie in-
evitable implication tliat the manifestations imply some-
tliing manifested, our aim must be to avoid any further
implications. Tbougli we cannot exclude furtlier implica-
tions from our tbougMs, and cannot carry on our argument
without tacit recognitions of them, we can at any rate refuse
to recognize them in the terms with which we set out. We
may do this most effectually by classing the manifestations
as vivid and faint respectively. Let us consider what arc
the several distinctions that exist between these.

And first a few words on this most conspicuous distinction
which these antithetical names imply. Manifestations that
occur under the conditions called those of perception (and
the conditions so called we must here, as much as possible,
separate from all hypotheses, and regard simply as- them-
selves a certain group of manifestations) are ordinarily far
more distinct than those which occur under the conditions
known as those of reflection, or memory, or imagination, or
ideation. These vivid manifestations do, indeed, sometimes
differ but little from the faint ones. When nearly dark we
may be unable to decide whether a certain manifestation
belongs to the vivid order or the faint order — ^whether, as
we say, we really see something or fancy we see it. In liko
manner, between a very feeble sound and the imagination of
a sound, it is occasionally difficult to discriminate. But
these exceptional cases are extremely rare in comparison
with the enormous mass of cases in which, from instant to
instant, the vivid manifestations distinguish themselves un-
mistakeably from th6 faint. Conversely, it also

now and then happens (though under conditions which we
significantly distinguish as abnormal) that manifestations of
the faint order become so strong as to be mistaken for those
of the vivid order. Idea^ sights and sounds are in the in-
sane so much intensified as to bo classed with real sights
and sounds — ideal and real being here supposed to imply no
other contrast than that which we arc considering. These

THE DATA OF PHILOSOPHY. 145

cases of illusion^ as we call them, bear, however, so small a
ratio to tlie great mass of cases, tliat we may safely neglect
them, and say that the relative faintness of these manifesta-
tions of the second order is so marked, that we are never in
doubt as to their distinctness from those of the first order.
Or if we recognize the exceptional occurrence of doubt, the
recognition serves but to introduce the significant fact that
we have other means of determining to which order a parti-
cular manifestation belongs, when the test of comparative
vividness fails us.

Manifestations of the vivid order precede, in our experi-
ence, those of the faint order; or, in the terms quoted
'above, the idea is an imperfect and feeble repetition of the
original impression. To put the facts in historical sequence
-—there is first a presented manifestation of the vivid order,
and then, afterwards, there may come a represented manifes-
tation that is like it except in being much less distinct.
Besides the universal experience that after having those
vivid manifestations which we call particular places and
persons and things, we can have those faint manifestations
which we call recollections of the places, persons, and things,
but cannot have these previously ; and besides the universal
experience that before tasting certain substances and smell-
ing certain perfumes we are without the faint manifestations
known as ideas of their tastes and smells ; we have also the
fact that where certain orders of the vivid manifestations
are shut out (as the visible from the blind and the audible
from the deaf) the corresponding faint manifestations
never come into existence. It is true that in

some cases the faint manifestations precede the vivid.*
What we call a conception of a machine may presently be
followed by a vivid manifestation matching it — a so-called
actual machine. But in the first place this occurrence of the
vivid manifestation after the faint, haj no analogy with the
occurrence of the faint after the vivld^ts sequence is not
spontaneous like that of the idea after the impression. And

146 THE DATA OF PHILOSOPHY.

in the second place, tliongh a faint manifestation of tHs
kind may occur before the vivid one answering to it, yet its
component parts may not. Without the foregoing vivid
manifestations of wheels and bars and cranks, the inventor
could have no faint manifestation of his new machine. Thus,
the occurrence of the faint manifestations is made possible
by the previous occurrence of the vivid. They are distin-
guished from one another as independent and dependent.

These two orders of manifestations form concurrent
scries ; or rather let us call them, not series, which implies
linear arrangements, but heterogeneous streams or pro-
cessions. These run side by side; each now broadening
and now narrowing, each now threatening to obliterate its
neighbour, and now in turn threatened with obhteration,
but neither ever quite excluding the other from their
common channel. Let us watch the mutual actions of the
two currents. During what we call our states of

activity, the vivid manifestations predominate. We simul-
taneously receive many and varied presentations — a, crowd
of visual impressions, sounds more or less numerous, resist-
ances, tastes, odom^s, &c. ; some groups of them changing,
and others temporarily fixed, but altering as we move ; and
when we compare in its breadth and massiveness this
heterogeneous combination of vivid manifestations with the
concurrent combination of faint manifestations, these last
sink into relative insignificance. They never wholly dis-
appear however. Always along with the vivid manifesta-
tions, even in their greatest obtrusivcness, analysis discloses
a thread of thoughts and interpretations constituted of the
faint manifestations. Or if it be contended that the occur-
rence of a deafening explosion or an intense pain may for a
moment exclude every idea, it must yet be admitted that
such breach of continuity can never be immediately known
as occurring; since the act of knowing is impossible in
the absence of ideas. On the other hand, after

certain vivid manifestations which we call tho acts of

THE DATA OP PHILOSOPHY. 147

closing tlie eyes and adjusting ourselves so as to enfeeble
tlie vivid manifestations of pressure^ sound, &c., tlie mani-
festations of tlie faint order become relatively predominant.
Tlie ever- varying heterogeneous current of tliem, no longer
obscured by tbe vivid current, grows more distinct, and
seems almost to exclude the vivid current. But wbile wbat
we call consciousness continues, tbe current of vivid mani-
festations, however small the dimensions to wbicb it is
reduced, still continues : pressure and toucb do not wholly
disappear. It is only on lapsing into the unconsciousness
termed sleep, that manifestations of the vivid order cease
to be distinguishable as such, and those of the faint order
come to be mistaken for them. And even of this we remain
unaware tiU the recurrence of manifestations of the vivid
order on awaking : we can never infer that manifestations
of the vivid order have been absent, until they are again
present ; and can therefore never directly know them to bo
absent. Thus, of the two concurrent compound

series of manifestations, eaclj preserves its continuity.
As they flow side by side, each trenches on the other,
but there never comes a moment at which it can be said
that the one has, then and there, broken through the other.
Besides this longitudinal cohesion there is a lateral cohe-
sion, both of the vivid to the vivid and of the faint to the
faint. The components of the vivid series are bound to-
gether by ties of co-existence as well as by ties of succes-
sion ; and the components of the faint series are similarly
bound together. Between the degrees of union in the two
cases there are, however, marked and very significant
differences. Let us observe them. Over an area

occupying part of the so-called field of view, lights and
shades and colours and outlines constitute a group to
which, as the signs of an object, we give a certain name ;
and while they continue present, these united vivid manifes-
tations remain inseparable. So, too, is it with co-existing
groups of manifestations : each persists as a special com*

148

THE DATA OP PHILOSOPHY.

bination ; and most of tliem preserve unclianging relations
witli those around. Sucli of them as do not — sucli of tliem
as are capable of what we call independent moveinents,
nevertheless show us a constant connexion between certain
of the manifestations they include, along with a variable
connexion of others. And though after certain vivid mani-
festations known as a change in the conditions of percep-
tion, there is a change in the proportions among the vivid
manifestations constituting any group, their cohesion con-
tinues— ^we do not succeed in detaching one or more of
them from the rest. Turning to the faint mani-

festations, we see that while there are lateral cohesions
among them, these are much less extensive, and in most
cases are by no means so rigorous. After closing my eyes,
I can represent an object now standing in a certain place,
as standing in some other place, or as absent. While I
look at a blue vase, I cannot separate the vivid manifes-
tation of blueness from the vivid manifestation of a parti-
cular shape; but, in the absence of these vivid manifesta-
tions, I can separate the faint manifestation of the shape
from the faint manifestation of blueness, and replace the last
by a faint manifestation of redness. It is so throughout :
the faint manifestations cling together to a certain extent,
but nevertheless most of them may be re-arranged with
facility. Indeed none of the individual faint manifestations
cohere in the same indissoluble way as do the individual
vivid manifestations. Though along with a faint manifesta-
tion of pressure there is always some faint manifestation of
extension, yet no particular faint manifestation of extension
is bound up with a particular faint manifestation of pres-
sure. So that whereas in the vivid order the indi-
vidual manifestations cohere indissolubly, usually in large
groups, in the faint order the individual manifestations none
of them cohere indissolubly, and are most of them loosely
aggregated: the only indissoluble cohesions among them
being between certain of their generic forms.

THE DATA OP PHILOSOPHY. 14i)

WMle the components of eacli current colitre witli ono
another, they do not cohere at all strongly with those of
the other current. Or, more correctly, we may say that the
vivid current habitually flows on quite undisturbed by the
faint current; and that the faint current, though often
largely determined by the vivid, and always to some extent
carried with it, may yet maintain a substantial independence,
letting the vivid current slide by. We will glance at the
interactions of the two. The successive faint

manifestations constituting thought, fail to modify in the
slightest degree the vivid manifestations that present them-
selves. Omitting a quite peculiar class of exceptions, here-
after to be dealt with, the vivid manifestations, fixed and
changing, are not directly affected by the faint. Those
which I distinguish as components of a landscape, as
surgings of the sea, as whistlings of the wind, as move-
ments of vehicles and people, are absolutely uninfluenced
by the accompanying faint manifestations which I distin-
guish as my ideas. On the other hand, the
current of faint manifestations is always somewhat per-
turbed by the vivid. Frequently it consists mainly of faint
manifestations which cling to the vivid ones, and are carried
with them as they pass — memories and suggestions as we
call them, which, joined with the vivid manifestations pro-
ducing them, form almost the whole body of the manifesta-
tions. At other times, when, as we say, absorbed in
thought, the disturbance of the faint current is but super-
ficial. The vivid manifestations drag after them such few
faint manifestations only as constitute recognitions of them :
to each impression adhere certain ideas which make up
the interpretation of it as such or such. But there mean-
while flows on a main stream of faint manifestations whollv
•jnrelated to the vivid manifestations — ^what we call a
reverie, perhaps, or it may be a process of reasoning. And
occasionally, during the state known as absence of mind,
this current of faint manifestations so far predominates that
8

150 THE DATA OF rniLOSOPHr.

tlio vivid current scarcely affects it at all. HencOj

these concurrent series of manifestations^ each coherent with
itself longitudinallj and laterally^ have but a partial cohe-
rence with one another. The vivid series is quite -unmoved
by its passing neighbour; and though the faint series is
always to some extent moved by the adjacent vivid series,
and is often carried bodily along with the vivid series, it
may nevertheless become in great measure separate.

Yet another all-important differential characteristic has to
be specified. The conditions under which these respective
orders of manifestations occur, are different; and the con-
ditions of occurrence of each order belong to itself. When-
ever the immediate antecedents of vivid manifestations aro
traceable, they prove to be other vivid manifestations ; and
though we cannot say that the antecedents of the faint
manifestations always lie wholly among themselves, yet the
essential ones lie wholly among themselves. These state-
ments will need a good deal of explanation. • Ob-
viously, changes among any of the vivid manifestations wo
are contemplating — the motions and sounds and alterations
of appearance, in what we call surrounding objects — aro
cither changes that follow certain vivid manifestations, or
changes of which the antecedents are unapparent. Some of
the vivid manifestations, however, occur only under certain
conditions that seem to be of another order. Those which
we know as colours and visible forms presuppose open eyes.
But what is the opening of the eyes, translated into the
terms we are here using ? Literally it is an occurrence of
certain vivid manifestations. The preliminary idea of open-
ing the eyes does, indeed, consist of faint manifestations, but
the act of opening them consists of vivid manifestations.
And the like is still more conspicuously the case with those
movements of the eyes and the head which are followed by
new groups of vivid manifestations. Similarly with the
antecedents to the vivid manifestations which we distinguish
as those of touch and pressure. All the changeable ones have

THE DATA OF PHILOSOPHY. 151

for their conditions of occurrence certain vi\dd manifesta-
tions wliicli we know as sensations of muscular tension. It
is true tliat tte conditions to these conditions are manifesta-
tions of tlie faint order — those ideas of muscular actions
whicli precede muscular actions. And we are here intro-
duced to a complication arising from the fact that what is
called the body, is present to us as a set of vivid manifesta-
tions connected with the faint manifestations in a special
way — a, way such that in it alone certain vivid manifesta-
tions are capable of being produced by faint manifestations.
There must be named, too, the kindred exception furnished
by the emotions — an exception which, however, serves to
enforce the general proposition. For while it is true that
the emotions are to be considered as a certain kind of vivid
manifestations, and are yet capable of being produced by
the faint manifestations we call ideas; it is also true that
because the conditions to their occurrence thus exist among
the faint manifestations, we class them as belonging to the
same general aggregate as the faint manifestations — do not
class them with such other vivid manifestations as colours,
sounds, pressures, smells, &c. But oniitting these peculiar
vivid manifestations which we know as muscular tensions
and emotions, and which we habitually class apart, we may
say of all the rest, that the conditions to their exist-
ence as vivid manifestations are manifestations belonging
to their own class. In the parallel current we

find a parallel truth. Though many manifestations of the
faint order are partly caused by manifestations of the vivid
order, which call up memories as we say, and suggest in-
ferences; yet these results mainly depend on certain antece-
dents belonging to the faint order. A cloud drifts across
the sun, and may or may not produce an effect on the cur-
rent of ideas : the inference that it is about to rain may
arise, or there may be a persistence in the previous train of
thought — a difference obviously determined by conditions
among the thoughts. Again, such power as a vivid mani-

152 THE DATA OP PHILOSOPHY.

festation has of causing certain faint manifestations to arise,
depends on tlie pre-existence of certain appropriate faint
manifestations. If I have never heard a curlew, the cry
which an unseen one makes, fails to produce an idea of the
bird. And we have but to remember what various trains of
reflection are aroused by the same sight, to see how essen-
tially the occurrence of each faint manifestation depends on
its relations to other faint manifestations that have gone
before or that co-exist.

Here we are introduced, lastly, to one of the most striking,
and perhaps the most important, of the differences between
those two orders of manifestations — a difference continuous
with that just pointed out, but one which may with advan-
tage be separately insisted upon. The conditions of occur-
rence are not distinguished solely by the fact that each set,
when identifiable, belongs to its own order of manifestations;
but they are further distinguished in a very significant way.
Manifestations of the faint order have traceable antece-
dents; can be made to occur by establishing their condi-
tions of occurrence ; and can be suppressed by establishing
other conditions. But manifestations of the vivid order
continually occur without previous presentation of their
antecedents ; and in many cases they persist or cease, under
cither known or unknown conditions, in such way as to
show that their conditions are wholly beyond control.
The impression distinguished as a flash of lightning, breaks
across the current of our thoughts, absolutely without
notice. The sounds from a band that strikes up in the
street or from a crash of china in the next room, are not
connected with any of the previously-present manifesta-
tions, either of the faint or of the vivid order. Often
these vivi^ manifestations, arising unexpectedly, persist in
thrusting themselves across the current of the faint Ones ;
which not only cannot directly affect them, but cannot
'even indirectly affect them. A wound produced . by a
violent blow from behind, is a vivid manifestation the con-

THE DATA OF PHILOSOPHY. 153

dltions of occurrence of wliicli were neitlier among the faint
nor among the vivid manifestations ; and tlie conditions to
tlie persistence of wliicli are bound up witli tlie vivid mani-
festations in some unmanifested way. So tliat whereas in
the faint order^ the conditions of occurrence are always
among the pre-existing or co-existing manifestations; in
the vivid order, the conditions of occurrence are often not
present.

Thus we find many salient characters in which manifesta-
tions of the one order are like one another,, and unlike those
of the other order. Let us briefly re-enumerate these salient
characters. Manifestations of the one order are vivid and
those of the other are faint. Those of the one order arc
originals, while those of the other order are copies. The
first form with one another a series, or heterogeneous current,
that is never broken; and the second also form with one
another a parallel series or current that is never broken : or, to
speak strictly, no breakage of either is ever directly known.
Those of the first order cohere with one another, not only
longitudinally but also transversely ; as do also those of tho
second order with one another. Between manifestations of
the first order the cohesions, both longitudinal and trans-
verse, are indissoluble; but between manifestations of the
second order, these cohesions are most of them dissoluble
with case. While tho members of each series or current are '
so coherent with one another that the current cannot be
broken, the two currents, running side by side as they do,
have but little coherence — the great body of the vivid
current is absolutely unmodifiable by the faint, and the faint
may become almost separate from the vivid. The conditions
under which manifestations of either order occur, themselves
belong to that order ; but whereas in the faint order, the
conditions are always present, in the vivid order the condi-
tions are often not present, but lie somewhere outside of the
series. Seven separate characters, then, mark off these two
i)rders of manifestations from one another.

154 THE DATA OF PHILOSOPHY.

§ 44. What is tlio meaning of tliis ? The foregoing
analysis was commenced in the belief that the proposition
postulated by Philosophy^ must affirm some ultimate classes
of likenesses and unlikenesses^ in which all other classes
merge ; and here we have found that all manifestations of
the Unknowable are divisible into two such classes. "What
is the division equivalent to ?

Obviously it corresponds to the division between object
and suhject. ■ This profoundest of distinctions among tho
manifestations of the Unknowable^ we recognize by grouping
them into self and not-self. These faint manifestations,
forming a continuous whole differing from the other in tho
quantity, quality, cohesion, and conditions of existence of
its parts, we call the ego ; and these vivid manifestations,
indissolubly bound together in relatively-immense masses,
and having independent conditions of existence, we call tho
non-ego. Or rather, more truly — each order of manifesta-
tions carries with it the irresistible implication of some
power that manifests itself; and by the words ego and non-
ego respectively, we mean the power that manifests itself in
the faint forms, and the power that manifests itself in the
vivid forms.

As we here see, these consolidated conceptions thus anti-
thetically named, do not originate in some inscrutable way ;
but they have for their explanation the ultimate law of
thought that is beyond appeal. The persistent conscious-
ness of hkeness or difference, is one which, by its very per-
sistence, makes itself accepted ; and one which transcends
scepticism, since without it even doubt becomes impossible.
And the primordial division of self from not-self, is a cumu-
lative result of persistent consciousnesses of likenesses and
differences among manifestations. Indeed, thought exists
only through that kind of act which leads us, from moment
to moment, to refer certain manifestations to the one class
with which they have so many common attributes, and
others to the other class with which they have common

THE DATA OF PHILOSOPHY. 155

RttriLntcs equally numerous. And tlie myriad-fold repeti-
tion of tliese classings, bringing about tbe myriad-fold asso-
ciations of each, manifestation with those of its own class,
bi'ings about this union among the members of each class,
and this disunion of the two classes.

Strictly speaking, this segregation of the manifestations
and coalescence of them into two distinct wholes, is in
great part spontaneous, and precedes all dehberate judg-
ments ; though it is endorsed by such judgments when they
come to be made. For the manifestations of each order
have not simply that kind of union implied by grouping
them as individual objects of the same class ; but, as wo
have seen, they have the much more intimate union implied
by actual cohesion. This cohesive union exhibits itself
before any conscious acts of classing take place. So that, in
truth, these two contrasted orders of manifestations are
substantially self-separated and self-consolidated. The
members of each, by clinging to one another and parting
from their opposites, themselves form these united wholes
constituting object and subject. It is this self-union which
gives to these wholes formed of them, their individualities
OS wholes, and that separateness from each other which
transcends judgment; and judgment merely aids the pre-
determined segregation by assigning to their respective
classes, such manifestations as have not distinctly uuited
themselves with the rest of their kind.

One further perpetually-repeated act of judgment there is,
indeed, which strengthens this fundamental antithesis, and
gives a vast extension to one term of it. We continually
learn that' while the conditions of occurrence of faint mani-
festations are always to be found, the conditions of oc-
currence of vivid manifestations are often not to be found.
We also continually learn that vivid manifestations which
fiave no perceivable antecedents among the vivid manifesta-
tions, are like certain preceding ones which had perceivable
antecedents among the vivid manifestations. Joining these

15G THE DATA OF PKILOSOPHY.

two experiences togetlier, there results the irresistible con-
ception that some vivid manifestations have conditions of
occurrence existing out of the current of vivid manifesta-
tions— ^existing as potential vivid manifestations capable of
becoming actual. And so we are made vaguely conscious
of an indefinitely-extended region of power or being, not
merely separate from the current of faint manifestations
constituting the ego, but lying beyond the current of vivid
manifestations constituting the immediately-present portion
of the non-ego,

§ 45. In a very imperfect way, passing over objections
and omitting needful explanations, I have thus, in the
narrow space that could properly be devoted to it, indicated
the essential nature and justification of that primordial pro-
position which Philosophy requires as a datum. I might,
indeed, safely have assumed this ultimate truth; which
Common Sense asserts, which every step in Science takes for
granted, and which no metaphysician ever for a moment
succeeded in expelling from consciousness. Setting out
with the postulate that the manifestations of the Unknowable
fall into the two separate aggregates constituting the world
of consciousness and the world beyond consciousness, I might
have let the justification of this postulate depend on its
subsequently-proved congruity with every re'sult of experi-
ence, direct and indirect. But as all that follows proceeds
upon this postulate, it seemed desirable briefly to indicate
its warrant, with the view of shutting out criticisms that
might else be made. It seemed desirable to show that this
fundamental cognition is neither, as the idealist asserts, an
illusion, nor as the sceptic thinks, of doubtful worth, nor as is
held by the natural realist, an inexplicable intuition; but
that it is a legitimate deliverance of consciousness elaborat-
ing its materials after the laws of its normal action. While,
in order of time, the establishment of this distinction precedes
all reasoning ; and while, running through our mental

THE DATA OP PHILOSOPHY. 157

structure as it does^ we are debarred from reasoning about
it without taking for granted its existence ; analysis never-
theless enables us to justify the assertion of its existence^ by
showing that it is also the outcome of a classification based
on accumulated likenesses and accumulated difierences. In
other words — Eeasoning, which is itself but a formation ol
cohesions among manifestations, here strengthens, by the
cohesions it forms, the cohesions which it finds already
existing.

So much, then, for the data of Philosophy. In common
with Eeligion, Philosophy assumes the primordial impUca-
Hon of consciousness, which, as we saw in the last part, has
the deepest of all foundations. It assumes the validity of a
certain primordial ^process of consciousness, without which
inference is impossible, and without which there cannot
even be either afl&rmation or denial. And it assumes the
validity of a certain primordial jprodiict of consciousness,
which though it originates in an earlier process, is also, in
one sense, a product of this process, since by this process
it is tested and stamped as genuine. In brief, our postu-
lates are : — an Unknowable Power ; the existence of know-
able likenesses and difierences among the manifestations of
that Power; and a resulting segregation of the manifes-
tations into those of subject and object.

Before proceeding with the substantial business of Philo-
sophy— ^the complete unification of the knowledge partially
unified by Science, a further preliminary is needed. The
manifestations of the Unknowable, separated into the two
divisions of self and not-self, are re-divisible into certain
most general forms, the reality of which Science, as well as
Common Sense, from moment to moment assumes. In the
chapter on " Ultimate Scientific Ideas," it was shown that
we know nothing of these forms, considered in themselves.
As, nevertheless, we must continue to use the words signify-
mg them, it is needful to say what interpretations are to be
put on these words.

CHAPTEH in.

8PACE^ TIME, MATTER, MOTION, AND FORCS.

§ 46. That sceptical state of mind wliicli the criticisms of
Philosophy usually produce, is, in greati measure, caused by
the misinterpretation of words. A sense of universal illusion
ordinarily follows the reading of metaphysics ; and is strong
in proportion as the argument has appeared conclusive. This
sense of universal illusion would probably never have arisen,
had the terms used been always rightly construed. Unfor-
tunately, these terms have by association acquired meanings
that are quite different from those given to them in philoso-
phical discussions ; and the ordinary meanings being un-
avoidably suggested, there results more or less of that dream-
like idealism which is so incongruous with our instinctive
convictions. The word phenomenon and its equivalent word
appearance^ are in great part to blame for this. In ordinary
speech, these are uniformly employed in reference to visual
perceptions. Habit, almost, if not quite, disables us from
thinking of appearance except as something seen ; and though
phenomenon has a more generalized meaning, yet we can-
not rid it of associations with appear ancCy which is its verbal
equivalent. "When, therefore. Philosophy proves that our
knowledge of the external world can be but phenomenal —
when it concludes that tlie things of which we are conscious
are appearances ; it inevitably arouses in us the notion of an
illusiveness like that to which our visual perceptions are so
liable in comparison with our tactual perceptions. Good pic-

SPACE, TIME, MATTER, MOTION, AND FORCE. 159

tuies show US that the aspects of things may be very nearly
simulated by colours on canvass. The looking-glass still more
distinctly proves how deceptive is sight w^hen unverified by
touch. And the frequent cases in which we misinterpret the
impressions made on our eyes, and think we see something
which we do not see, further shake our faith in vision. So
that the implication of uncertainty has infected the very word
appearance. Hence, Philosophy, by giving it an extended
meaning, leads us to think of all our senses as deceiving us in
the same way that the eyes do ; and so makes us feel ourselves
floating in a world of phantasms. Had phenomenon and ap-
pearance no such misleading associations, little, if any, of this
mental confusion would result. Or did we in place of them
use the term effect, which is equally applicable to all impres-
sions produced on consciousness through any of the senses,
and which carries with it in thought the necessary correla-
tive cause, with which it is equally real, we should be in little
danger of falling into the insanities of idealism.

Such danger as there might stiU remain, would disappear
on making a further verbal correction. At present, the con-
fusion resulting from the above misinterpretation, is made
greater by an antithetical misinterpretation. We increase
the seeming unreality of that phenomenal existence which
we can alone know, by contrasting it with a noumenal exist-
ence which we imagine would, if we coidd know it, be more
truly real to us, But we delude ourselves with a verbal fic-
tion. "What is the meaning of the word real ? This
is the question which underlies every metaphysical inquiry ;
and the neglect of it is the remaining cause of the chronic
antagonisms of metaphysicians. In the interpretation put on
the word real, the discussions of philosophy retain one ele-
ment of the vulgar conception of things, while they reject all
its other elements; and create confusion by the inconsistenc3\
The peasant, on contemplating an object, does not regard
^hat which he contemplates as something in himself, but be-
lieves the thing of which he \a conscious to be the external

100 SPACE, TIME, MATTER, MOTION, AND FOECE.

object — ^imagines that his consciousness extends to the very
place wher's the object lies : to him the appearance and the
reality are one and the same thing. The metaphysician,
however, is convinced that consciousness cannot embrace the
reality, but only the appearance of it ; and so he transfers the
appearance into consciousness and leaves the reality outside.
This reality left outside of consciousness, he continues to
think of much in the same way as the ignorant man thinks
of tlie appearance. Though the reality is asserted to be out
of consciousness, yet the realness ascribed to it is constantly
spoken of as though it were a knowledge possessed apart from
consciousness. It seeins to be forgotten that the conception of
reality can be nothing more than some mode of consciousness;
and that the question to be considered is — ^What is the rela-
tion between this mode and other modes ?

By reality we mean persistence in consciousness; a per-
sistence that is either unconditional, as our consciousness of
space, or that is conditional, as our consciousness of a body
while grasping it. The real, as we conceive it, is distinguished
solely by the test of persistence ; for by this test we separate
it from what we cairthe~ unreal. Between a person standing
before us, and the idea of such a person, we discriminate by
our ability to expel the idea from consciousness, and our in-
ability, while looking at him, to expel the person from con-
sciousness. And when in doubt as to the validity or illusive-
ness of some impression made upon us in the dusk, we settle
the matter by observing whether the impression persists on
closer observation ; and we predicate reality if the persistence
is complete. How truly persistence is what we mean

by reality, is shown in the fact that when, after criticism has
proved that the real as we are conscious of it is not the ob-
jectively real, the indefinite notion which we form of the ob-
jectively real, is of something which persists absolutely, under
all changes of mode, form, or appearance. And the fact that
we cannot form even an indefinite notion of the absolutely
real, except as the absolutely persistent, clearly impKes that

SPACE, TIME, MATTEEj MOTION, AND FORCE. 161

persistence is our ultimate test of tlie real as present to con-
sciousness.

Eeality then, as we tliink it, being notMng more than
persistence in consciousness, the result must be the same to
us whether that which we perceive be the Unknowable
itself, or an effect invariably wrought on us by the Unknow-
able. If, under constant conditions furnished by our con-
stitutions, some Power of which the nature is beyond
conception, always produces some mode of consciousness —
if this mode of consciousness is as persistent as would be
this Power were it in consciousness ; the reality will be to
consciousness as complete in the one case as in the other.
Were Unconditioned Being itself present in thought, it
could but bo persistent; and if, instead, there is present
Being conditioned by the forms of thought, but no less
persistent, it must be to us no less real.

Hence there may be drawn these conclusions : — First, that
v\-e have an indefinite consciousness of an absolute reality
transcending relations, which is produced by the absolute
persistence in us of something which survives all changes of
relation. Second, that we have a definite consciousness of
relative reality, which unceasingly persists in us under one
or other of its forms, and under each form so long as the con-
ditions of presentation are fulfilled; and that the relative
reality, being thus continuously persistent in us, is as real to
us as would be the absolute reahty could it be immediately
known. Third, that thought being possible only under rela-
tion, the relative reality can be conceived as such only in con-
nexion with an absolute reality ; and the connexion between
the two being absolutely persistent in our consciousness, is
real in the same sense as the terms it unites are real;

Thus then we may resume, with entire confidence, those
realistic conceptions which philosophy at first sight seems to
dissipate. Though reality under the forms of our conscious-
ness, is but a conditioned effect of the absolute reality, yet
this conditioned effect standing in indissoluble relation with
its unconditioned cause, and being equally persistent with it

162 SPACE, TIME, MATTER, MOTION, AND FORCE.

BO long as the conditions persist, is, to tlie consciousness sup-
plying those conditions, equally real. The persistent impres-
sions being the persistent results of a persistent cause, are for
practical purposes the same to us as the cause itself ; and may
be habitually dealt with as its equivalents. Somewhat in the
same way that our visual perceptions, though merely symbols
found to be the equivalents of tactual perceptions, are yet so
identified with those tactual perceptions that we actually ap-
pear to see the solidity and hardness which we do but infer,
and thus conceive as objects what are only the signs of objects ;
so, on a higher stage, do we deal with these relative realities
as though they were absolutes instead of efiects of the abso-
lute. And we may legitimately continue so to deal with them
as long as the conclusions to which they help us are understood
as relative realities and not absolute ones.

This general conclusion it now remains to interpret speci-
fically, in its application to each of our ultimate scientific
ideas.

§ 47. * We think in relations. This is truly the form of
all thought ; and if there are any other forms, they must be
derived from this. We have seen (Chap. iii. Part I.) that
the several ultimate modes of being cannot be known or con-
ceived as they exist in themselves ; that is, out of relation to
our consciousness. We have seen, by anatyzing the pro-
duct of thought, (§ 23,) that it always consists of reJations ;
and cannot include anything beyond the most general of these.
On analyzing the process of thought, we found that cogni-
tion of the Absolute was impossible, because it presented
neither relation, nor its elements — difference and likeness.
Further, we found that not only Intelligence but Life itself,
consists in the establishment of internal relations in cori*e-
spondence with external relations. And lastly, it was shown

• For the psychological conclusions briefly sot forth in this and the three sec-
tions following it, the justification wil be found in the writer's Trincipks oj
Ttychology.

SPACE, TIME, MATTER, MOTION, AND FORCE. 163

that though, by the relativity of our thought we are eternally
debarred from knowing or conceiving Absolute Being ; yet
that this very relativity of our thought, necessitates that vague
consciousness of Absolute Being which no mental effort can
suppress. That relation is the universal form of thought, is
thus a truth which all kinds of demonstration unite in
proving.

By the transcendentalists, certain other phenomena of con-
sciousness are regarded as forms of thought. Presuming
that relation would be admitted by them to be a universal
mental forni, they would class with it two others as also uni-
versal. Were their hypothesis otherwise tenable however, it
must still be rejected if such alleged further forms are inter-
pretable as generated by the primary form. If we think in
relations, and if relations have certain universal forms, it is
manifest that such universal forms of relations will become
universal forms of our consciousness. And if these further
universal forms are thus explicable, it is superfluous, and
therefore unphilosophical, to assign them an independent
origin. Now relations are of two orders — relations

of sequence, and relations of co- existence ; of which the one
is original and the other derivative. The relation of sequence
is given in every change of consciousness. I'he relation of
co-existence, which cannot be originally given in a conscious-
ness of which the states are serial, becomes distinguished only
when it is found that certain relations of sequence have their
terms presented in consciousness in either order with equal
facility; while the others are presented only in one order,
llelations of which the terms are not reversible, become re-
cognized as sequences proper ; while relations of which the
terms occur indifferently in both directions, become recog-
nized as CO' existences. Endless experiences, which from
moment to moment present both orders of these relations,
render the distinction between them perfectly definite ;
and at the same time generate an abstract conception of
each. The abstrasLiiLalls^quences is Time. The abstract

l(>4 SPACE, TIME, MATTER, MOTION, AND FORCE,

of all co-existence8is_Space. From the fact that in tliouglit,
Time is inseparable from sequence, and Space from co-exist-
ence, we do not here infer that Time and Space are original
conditions of consciousness under which sequences and co-
existences are known ; but we infer that our conceptions of
Time and Space are generated, as other abstracts are gener-
ated from other concretes : the only difference being, that
the organization of experiences has, in these cases, been going
on throughout the entire evolution of intelligence.

This synthesis is confirmed by analysis. Our consciousness
of Space is a consciousness of co-existent positions. Any lim-
ited portion of space can be conceived only by representing its
limits as co-existing in certain relative positions ; and each of
its imagined boundaries, be it line or plane, can be thought of
in no other way than as made up of co-existent positions in
close proximity. And since a position is not an entity — since
the congeries of positions which constitute any conceived por-
tion of space, and mark its bounds, are not sensible existences ;
it follows that the co-existent positions which make up our
consciousness of Space, are not co-existences in the full sense
of the word (which implies realities as their terms), but are the
blank forms of co- existences, left behind when the realities are
absent ; that is, are the abstracts of co-existences. The

experiences out of which, during the evolution of intel-
ligence, this abstract of all co- existences has been generated,
are experiences of individual positions as ascertained by touch ;
and each of such experiences involves the resistance of an ob-
ject touched, and the muscular tension which measures this
resistance. By countless unlike muscular adjustments, involving
unlike muscular tensions, different resisting positions are dis-
closed ; and these, as they can be experienced in one order as
readily as another, we regard as co-existing. But since, mi-
der other circumstances, the same muscular adjustments do
not produce contact with resisting positions, there result the
same states of consciousness, minus the resistances — blank
forms of co-existence from which the co-existent objects before

SPACE, TIME, MATTER, MOTION, AND FORCE. 165

experienced are absent And from a building up of tbese, loo
elaborate to be here detailed, results that abstract of all rela-
tions of co-existence wbich we call Space. It remains
only to point out, as a thing wbicb we mitst not forget, tbat
tbe experiences from whicb. tbe consciousness of Space ^ises,
are experiences oi force. A certain correlation of tbe muscu-
lar forces we ourselves exercise, is tbe index of each position
as originally disclosed to us ; and tbe resistance wbicb makes
us aware of sometbing existing in tbat position, is an equi-
valent of tbe pressure we consciously exert. Tbus, experiences
of forces variously correlated, are tbose from wbicb our con-
sciousness of Space is abstracted.

Tbat wbicb we know as Space being tbus sbown, alike by
its genesis and definition, to be purely relative, wbat are we
to say of tbat wbicb causes it ? Is tbere an absolute Space
wbicb relative Space in some sort represents ? Is Space in it-
self a form or condition of absolute existence, producing in
our minds a corresponding form or condition of relative exist-
ence ? Tbese are unanswerable questions. Our conception
of Space is produced by some mode of tbe Unknowable ; and
tbe complete uncbangeableness of our conception of it simply
implies a complete uniformity in tbe effects wrought by this
mode of the Unknowable upon us. But therefore to call it a
necessary mode of tbe Unknowable, is illegitimate. All we
can assert is, that Space is a relative reality ; tbat our consci-
ousness of this unchanging relative reality implies an absolute
reality equally unchanging in so far as we are concerned ;
and that the relative reality may be unhesitatingly accepted
in thought as a valid basis for our reasonings ; whicb, when
rightly carried on, wiU bring us to truths tbat have a like
relative reality — tbe only truths which concern us or can
possibly be known to us.

Concerning Time, relative and absolute, a parallel argu-
ment leads to parallel conclusions. Tbese are too obvious to
need specifying in detail.

16G SPACE, TIME, MATTER, MOTION, AND FORCE.

§ 48. Our conception of Matter, reduced to its simplest shape,
is that of co-existent positions that offer resistance ; as con-
trasted wdth our conception of Space, in which the co-existcnt
positions offer no resistance. We think of Body as bounded
by surfaces that resist ; and as made up throughout of parts
that resist. Mentally abstract the co-existent resistances, and
the consciousness of Body disappears ; leaving behind it the
consciousness of Space. And since the group of co-existing
resistent positions constituting a portion of matter, is uniform-
ly capable of giving us impressions of resistance in combina-
tion with various muscular adjustments, according as we
touch its near, its remote, its right, or its left side ; it results
that as different muscular adjustments habitually indicate dif-
ferent CO- existences, we are obliged to conceive every portion
of matter as containing more than one resistent position — that
is, as occupying Space. Hence the necessity we are under of
representing to ourselves the ultimate elements of Matter as
being at once extended and resistent : this being the univer-
sal form of our sensible experiences of Matter, becomes the
form which our conception of it cannot transcend, however
minute the fragments which imaginary subdivisions pro-
duce. Of these two inseparable elements, the resist-
ance is primary, and the extension secondary. Occupied ex-
tension, or Body, being distinguished in consciousness from
imoccupied extension, or Space, by its resistance, this attribute
must clearly have precedence in the genesis of the idea. Such a
conclusion is, indeed, an obvious corollary from that at which
we arrived in the foregoing section. If, as was there contend-
ed, our consciousness of Space is a product of accumulated ex-
periences, partly our own but chiefly ancestral — if, as was
pointed out, the experiences from which our consciousness of
Space is abstracted, can be received only through impressions
of resistance made upon the organism ; the necessary inference
is, that experiences of resistance being those from which the
conception of Space is generated, the resistance-attribute of
Matter must be regarded as primordial and the space-attribute

SPACE, TIME, MATTEK, MOTION, AND FORCE. 167

as derivative. Whence it becomes manifest that our

experience oiforce^ is that out of which the idea of Matter is
built. Matter as opposing our muscular energies, being im-
mediately 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 correlations, form the whole content of
our idea of Matter.

Such being our cognition of the relative reality, what are
we to say of the absolute reality ? We can only say that it
is some mode of the Unknowable, related to the Matter we
know, as cause to effect. The relativity of our cognition of
Matter is shown alike by the above analysis, and by the con-
tradictions which are evolved when we deal with the cogni-
tion as an absolute one (§ 16). But, as we have lately seen,
though known to us only under relation. Matter is as real in
the true sense of that word, as it would be could we know it
out of relation ; and further, the relative reality which we
know as Matter, is necessarily represented to the mind as
standing in a persistent or real relation to the absolute real-
ity. We may therefore deliver ourselves over with-
out hesitation, to those terms of thought which experience has
organized in us. We need not in our physical, chemical,
or other researches, refrain from dealing with Matter as made
up of extended and resistent atoms ; for this conception, ne-
cessarily resulting from our experiences of Matter, is not less
legitimate than the conception of aggregate masses as extend-
ed and resistent. The atomic hypothesis, as well as the kindred
hj'pothesis of an all-pervading ether consisting of molecules, is
simply a necessary development of those universal forms which
the actions of the Unknowable have wi'ought in us. The con-
clusions logically worked out by the aid of these hypotheses, are
sure to be in harmony with all others which these same forms
involve, and will have a relative truth that is equally complete.

§ 49. The conception of Motion as presented or represented

168 SPACE, TIME, MATTER, MOTION, AND FORCE.

in tlie developed consciousness, involves tlie conceptions of
Space, of Time, and of Matter. A sometliing tliat moves ; a
series of positions occupied in succession ; and a group of co-
existent positions united in thought with the successive ones
— these are the constituents of the idea. And since, as we
have seen, these are severally elaborated from experiences of
force as given in certain correlations, it follows that from a
further synthesis of such experiences, the idea of Motion is
also elaborated. A certain other element in the idea, which
is in truth its fundamental element, (namely, the necessity
which the moving body is im.der to go on changiug its posi-
tion), results immediately from the earliest experiences offeree.
Movements of different parts of the organism in relation to
each other, are the first presented in consciousness. These,
produced by the action of the muscles, necessitate reactions
upon consciousness in the shape of sensations of muscular ten
sion. Consequently, each stretching-out or drawing-in of a
limb, is originally known as a series of muscular tensions,
varying in intensity as the position of the limb changes. And
this rudimentary consciousness of Motion, consisting of serial
impressions of force, becomes inseparably united with the
consciousness of Space and Time as fast as these are abstract-
ed from further impressions of force. Or rather, out of this
primitive conception of Motion, the adult conception of it h
developed simultaneously with the development of the con-
ceptions of Space and Time : all three being evolved from the
more multiplied and varied impressions of muscular tension
and objective resistance. Motion, as we know it, is thus trace-
able, in common with the other ultimate scientific ideas, to ex-
periences of force.

That this relative reality answers to some absolute reality,
it is needful only for form's sake to assert. What has been
said above, respecting the Unlaiown Cause which produces in
us the efiects called Matter, Space, and Time, wiU apply, on
eimply changing the terms, to Motion.

S1^\CE, TIME, MATTER, MOTION, AND FORCE. 169

§ 50. We come down then finally to Force, ^sthejdtiiaate
of ultimates. Though Space, Time, Matter, and Motion, are
apparently all necessary data of intelligence, yet a psychologi-
cal analysis (here indicated only in rude outline) shows us
that these are either built up of, or abstracted from, experi-
ences of Force. Matter and Motion, as we know them, are
diiferently conditioned manifestations of Force. Space and
Time, as we know them, are disclosed along with these differ-
ent manifestations of Force as the conditions under which
they are presented. Matter and Motion are concretes built
up from the contents of various mental relations ; while Space
and Time are abstracts of the forms of these various rela-
tions. Deeper dowTi than these, however, are the primordial
experiences of Force, w^hich, as occurring in consciousness
in different combinations, supply at once the materials
whence the forms of relations are generalized, and the re-
lated objects built up. A single impression of force is
manifestly receivable by a sentient being devoid of mental
forms : grant but sensibility, with no estabKshed power of
thought, and a force producing some nervous change, will
still be presentable at the supposed seat of sensation. Though
no single impression o'f force so received, could itself produce
consciousness (which implies relations between different states),
yet a multiplication of such impressions, differing in kind
and degree, would give the materials for the establish-
ment of relations, that is, of thought. And if such rela-
tions differed in their forms as well as in their contents,
the impressions of such forms would be organized simultane-
ously with the impressions they contained. Thus all other
modes of consciousness are derivable from experiences of
Force ; but experiences of Force are not derivable from any-
thing else. Indeed, it needs but to remember that conscious-
ness consists of changes, to see that the ultimate datum of con-
sciousness must be that of which change is the manifestation ;
and that thus the force by which we ourselves produce changes,

170 SPACE, TIME, MATTER, MOTION, AND FORCE.

and which serves to symbolize the cause of changes in general,
is the final disclosure of analysis.

It is a truism to say that the nature of this undecomposable
element of our knowledge is inscrutable. If, to use an algebraic
illustration, we represent Matter, Motion, and Force, by the
symbols x, y, and z ; then, we may ascertain the yalues of x
and y in terms of z ; but the value of z can never be found : z
is the unknown quantity which must for ever remain unknown ;
for the obvious reason that there is nothing in which itsjvahia.
can be expressed. It is within the possible reach of our in-
telligence to go on simplifying the equations of aU phenomena,
until the complex symbols which formulate them are reduced
to certain functions of this ultimate symbol ; but when we
have done this, we have reached that limit which eternally
divides science from nescience.

That this undecomposable mode of consciousness into
which all other modes may be decomposed, cannot be itself
the Power manifested to us through phenomena, has been
already proved (§ 18). We saw that to assume an identity
of nature between the cause of changes as it absolutely exists,
and that cause of change of which we are conscious in our own
muscular efforts, betrays us into alternative impossibilities of
thought. Force, as we know it, can be regarded only as a
certain conditioned effect of the Unconditioned Cause — as the
relative reality indicating to us an Absolute Reality by which
it is immediately produced. And here, indeed, we see even
more clearly than before, how inevitable is that transfigured
realism to which sceptical criticism finally brings us round.
Getting rid of all complications, and contemplating pure
Force, we are irresistibly compelled by the relativity of our
thought, to vaguely conceive some unknown force as the
correlative of the known force. Noumenon and phenome-
non are here presented in their primordial relation as
two sides of the same change, of which we are obliged
to regard the last as no less real than the first.

SPACE^ TIME; MATTER, MOTION, AND FORCE. 171

§ 51. In closing tMs exposition of tlie derivative data
needed by Pliilosopliy as the unifier of Science, we may
properly glance at their relations to the primordial data, set
forth in the last chapter.

An Unknown Cause of the known eiSects which we call
phenomena, hkenesses and difierences among these known
effects, and a segregation of the effects into subject and
object — these are the postulates without which we cannot
think. Within each of the segregated masses of manifesta-
tions, there are likenesses and differences involving se-
condary segregations, which have also become indispensable
postulates. The vivid manifestations constituting the non-
ego do not simply cohere, but their cohesions have certain
invariable modes ; and among the faint manifestations con-
stituting the egOf which are products of the vivid, there
exist corresponding modes of cohesion. These modes of co-
hesion under which manifestations are invariably presented,
and therefore invariably represented, we call, when contem-
plated apart. Space and Time, and when contemplated along
with the manifestations themselves. Matter and Motjoiu
The ultimate natm^es of these modes are as unknown as is
the ultimate nature of that which is manifested. But just
the same warrant which we have for asserting that subject
and object coexist, we have for asserting that the vivid
manifestations we call objective, exist under certain constant
conditions, that are symboHzed by these constant conditions
among the manifestations we call subjective.

CHAPTER IV.

THE INDESTRUCTIBILITY OF MATTER.

§ b2. Not because the truth is unfamiliar, is it needful
hero to say something concerning the indestructibility of
Matter ; but partly because the sjnnmetry of our argument
demands the enunciation of this truth, and partly because
the evidence on which it is accepted requires examination.
Could it be shown, or could it with any rationality be even
supposed, that Matter, either in its aggregates or in its
units, ever became non-existent, there would be need either
to ascertain under what conditions it became non-existent,
or else to confess that Science and Philosophy are impos-
sible. For if, instead of having to deal with fixed quantities
and weights, we had to deal with quantities and weights
which were apt, wholly or in part, to be annihilated, there
would be introduced an incalculable element, fatal to all
positive conclusions. Clearly, therefore, the proposition
that matter is indestructible must be deliberately con-
sidered.

So far from being admitted as a self-evident truth, this
would, in primitive times, have been rejected as a self-evident
error. There was once universally current, a notion that things
could vanish into absolute nothing, or arise out of absolute
nothing. If we analyze early superstitions, or that faith in
magic which was general in later times and e"ven still . sur-
vives among the uncultured, we find one of its postulates to
be, that by some potent spell Matter can be called out of non-
entity, and can be made non-existent. If men did not believe

THE INDESTEUCTIBILITY OP MATTER. 173

this in tlie strict sense of tlie word (wliicli would imply-
that the process of creation or annihilation was clearly repre-
sented in consciousness), they still believed that they believed
it; and how nearly, in their confused thoughts, the one was
equivalent to the other, is shown by their conduct. Nor, in-
deed, have dark ages and inferior minds alone betrayed this
belief. The current theology, in its teachings respecting the
beginning and end of the world, is clearly pervaded by it ;
and it may be even questioned whether Shakespeare, in his
poetical anticipation of a time when all things shall disap-
pear and " leave not a wrack behind," was not under its in-
fluence. The gradual accumulation of experiences,
however, and still more the organization of experiences, has
tended slowly to reverse this conviction ; until now, the doc-
trine that Matter is indestructible has become a common-
place. All the apparent proofs that something can come out
of nothing, a wider knowledge has one by one cancelled. The
comet that is suddenly discovered in the heavens and nightly
waxes larger, is proved not to be a newly-created body, but a
body that was until lately beyond the range of vision. The
cloud which in the course of a few minutes forms in the sky,
consists not of substance that has just begun to be, but of
substance that previously existed in a more diffused and
transparent form. And similarly with a crystal or precipi-
tate in relation to the fluid depositing it. Conversely, the
seeming annihilations of Matter turn out, on closer observa-
tion, to be only changes of state. It is found that the
evaporated water, though it has become invisible, may be
brought by condensation to its original shape. The dis-
charged fowling-piece gives evidence that though the
gunpowder has disappeared, there have appeared in place
of it certain gases, which, in assuming a larger volume,
have caused the explosion. Not, however, until
the rise of quantitative chemistry, could the conclusion
suggested by such experiences be harmonized with all the
facts. When, having ascertained not only the combina-
9

174 THE INDESTRUCTIBILITY OF MATTER.

tions formed by various substances, but also tlie proportions
in wliicli tliey combine, cbemists were enabled to, account
for the matter that had made its appearance or become in-
visible, scepticism was dissipated. And of the general con-
ckision thus reached, the exact analyses daily made, in which
the same portion of matter is pursued through numerous
disguises and finally separated, furnish never-ceasing con-
firmations.

Such has become the effect of this specific evidence, joined
to that general evidence which the continued existence of
familiar objects unceasingly gives us, that the Indestructi-
bility of Matter is now held by many to be a truth of which
the negation is inconceivable.

§ 53. This last fact naturally raises the question, whether
we have any higher warrant for this fundamental belief than
the warrant of conscious induction. Before showing that
we have a higher warrant, some explanations are needful.

The consciousness of logical necessity, is the consciousness
that a certain conclusion is implicitly contained in certain
premises explicitly stated. If, contrasting a young child
and an adult, we see that this consciousness of logical
necessity, absent from the one is present in the other, we
are taught that there is a growing up to the recognition of
certain necessary truths, merely by the unfolding of the
inherited intellectual forms and faculties.

To state the case more specifically : — ^Before a truth
can be known as necessary, two conditions must be fulfilled.
There must be a mental structure capable of grasping the
terms of the proposition and the relation alleged between
them ; and there must be such definite and deliberate
mental representation of these terms, as makes possible a
clear consciousness of this relation. Non-fulfilment of either
condition may cause non-recognition of the necessity of the
truth. Let us take cases.

The savage who cannot count the fingers on one hand.

THE INDESTRUCTIBILITY OF MATTER. 175

♦

can frame no definite thouglit answering to the statement
that 7 and 5 are 12 ; still less can lie frame tlie conscious-
ness tliat no other total is possible.

The boy adding up figures inattentively, says to himself
that 7 and 5 are 11 ; and may repeatedly bring out a wrong
result by repeatedly making this error.

Neither the non-recognition of the truth that 7 and 5
are 12, which in the savage results from undeveloped mental
structure, nor the assertion, due to the boy^s careless mental
action, that they make 11, leads us to doubt the necessity of
the relation between these two separately-existing numbers
and the sum they make when existing together. Nor does
failure from either cause to apprehend the necessity of this
relation, make us hesitate to say that when its terms are
distinctly represented in thought, its necessity will be seen ;
and that, apart from any multiplied experiences, this neces-
sity becomes cognizable when structures and functions
are so far developed that groups of 7 and 5 and 12 can be
intellectually grasped.

Manifestly, then, there is a recognition of necessary
truths, as such, which accompanies mental evolution. Along
with acquirement of more complex faculty and more vivid
imagination, there comes a power of perceiving to be neces-
sary truths, what were before not recognized as truths at all.
And there are ascending gradations in these i-ecognitions.
A boy who has intelligence enough to see that things
which are equal to the same thing are equal to one another,
may be unable to see that ratios which are severally equal
to certaiu other ratios that are unequal to each other, are
themselves unequal ; though to a more-developed mind this
last axiom is no less obviously necessary than the first.

All this which holds of logical and mathematical truths,
holds, with change of terms, of physical truths. There are
necessary truths in Physics for the apprehension of which,
also, a developed and disciplined intelligence is required ;
and before such intelligence arises, not only may there be

176 THE INDESTEUCTIBILITY OF MATTER.

failure to apprcliend fhe necessity of them, but there may
be vague beliefs in their contraries. Up to comparatively-
recent times, all mankind were in this state of incapacity
with respect to physical axioms ; and the mass of mankind
are so still. Various popular notions betray inability to
form clear ideas of forces and their relations, or careless-
ness in thinking, or both. Effects are expected without
causes of fit kinds ; or effects extremely disproportionate to
causes are looked for ; or causes are supposed to end without
effects.* But though many are incapable of grasping phy-
sical axioms, it no more follows that physical axioms are
not knowable a jpriori by a developed intelligence, than it
follows that logical relations are not necessary, because un-
developed intellects cannot* perceive their necessity.

It is thus with the notions which have been current
respecting the creation and annihilation of Matter. In the
first place, there has been an habitual confounding of two
radically-different things — disappearance of Matter from
that place- where it was lately perceived, and passage of
Matter from existence into non-existence. Only when there
is reached a power of discrimination beyond that possessed
by the uncultured, is there an avoidance of the confusion
between vanishing from the range of perception, and
vanishing out of space altogether ; and until this confusion
is avoided, the belief that Matter can be annihilated readily
obtains currency. In the second place, the currency of this
belief continues so long as there is not such power of intro-

* I knew a lady who contended that a dress folded up tightly, weighed
more than when loosely folded up ; and who, under this belief, had
her trunks made large that she might diminish the charge for freight !
Another whom I know, ascribes the feeling of lightness which accompanies
vigour, to actual decrease of weight ; believes that by stepping gently, she
can press less upon the ground ; and, when cross-questioned, asserts that,
if placed in scales, she can make herself lighter by an act of will ! Various
popular notions betray like states of mind — show, in the undisciplined, such
inability to form ideas of forces and their relations, or such randomness in
thinking, or both, as incapacitates them for grasping physical axioms, and
makes them harbour numerous delusions respecting physical actions.

THE INDESTRUCTIBILITY OP MATTER. 177

spection tliat it can be seen wliat happens when tlie attempt
is made to anniliilate Matter in tliouglit. But when, during
mental evolution, the vague ideas arising in a nervous
structure imperfectly organized, are replaced by the clear
ideas arising in a definite nervous structure; this definite
structure, moulded by experience into correspondence with
external phenomena, makes necessary in thought the rela-
tions answering to absolute uniformities in things. Hence,
among others, the conception of the Indestructibility of
Matter.

For careful self -analysis shows this to be a datum of
consciousness. Conceive the space before you to be cleared
of all bodies save one. Now imagine the remaining one not
to be removed from its place, but to lapse into nothing
while standing in that place. You fail. The space which
was solid you cannot conceive becoming empty, save by
transfer of that which made it solid. What

is termed the ultimate incompressibility of Matter, is an
admitted law of thought. However small the bulk to
which we conceive a piece of matter reduced, it is impos-
sible to conceive it reduced into nothing. While we can
represent to ourselves the parts of the matter as approxi-
mated, we cannot represent to ourselves the quantity of
matter as made less. To do this would be to imagine some
of the constituent parts compressed into nothing; which
is no more possible than to imagine compression of the
whole into nothing. Our inability to conceive

Matter becoming non-existent, is immediately consequent
on the nature of thought. Thought consists in the establish-
ment of relations. There can be no relation established,
and therefore no thought framed, when one of the related
terms is absent from consciousness. Hence it is impossible
to think of something becoming nothing, for the same
reason that it is impossible to think of nothing becoming
something — the reason, namely, that nothing cannot become
an object of consciousness. The anmETation of Matter

178 THE INDESTRUCTIBILITY OP MATTER.

is iin thinkable for tliG same reason tliat tlie creation of
Matter is unthinkable.

It must be added tliat no experimental verification of tho
truth that Matter is indestructible^ is possible without a
tacit assumption of it. For all such verification implies
weighing, and weighing implies that the matter, forming
the weight remains the same. In other words, the proof
that certain matter dealt with in certain ways is unchanged
in quantity, depends on the assumption that other matter,
otherwise dealt with, is unchanged in quantity.

§ 54. That, however, which it most concerns us here
to observe, is the nature of the perceptions by which 'the
permanence of Matter is perpetually illustrated to us.
These perceptions, under all their forms, amount simply to
this — that the force which a given quantity of matter exer-
cises, remains always the same. This is the proof on which
common sense and exact science alike rely. When,

for example, an object known to have existed years since is
said to exist still, by one who yesterday saw it, his assertion
amounts to this — that an object which in past time
wrought on his consciousness a certain group of changes,
still exists, because a like group of changes has been again
wrought on his consciousness : the continuance of the jpower
thus to impress him, he holds to prove the cojitinuanco of
the object. Even more clearly do we see that force is our
ultimate measure of Matter, in those cases where the shape
of the Matter has been changed. A piece of gold given to
an artizan to be worked into an ornament, and which when
brought back appears to be less, is placed in the scales ;
and if it balances a much smaller weight than it did in its
rough state, we infer that much has been lost either in
manipulation or by direct abstraction. Here the obvious
postulate is, that the quantity of Matter is finally de-
terminable by the quantity of gravitative force it mani-
fests. And this is the kind of evidence on which

THE INDESTKUCTIBILITY OF MATTER. 179

Science bases its alleged induction tliat Matter" is in-
destructible.* Whenever a piece of substance lately visible
and tangible, bas been reduced to an invisible, intangible
state, but is proved by tbe weight of tbe gas into wbich.
it bas been transformed to be still existing; tbe assump-
tion is tbat, though otherwise insensible to us", the amount
of matter is the same if it still tends towards the Earth
with the same force. Similarly, every case in which the
weight of an element present in combination is inferred
from the known weight of another element which it
neutralizes, is a case in which the quantity of matter is
expressed in terms of the quantity of chemical force it
exerts ; and in which this specific chemical force is assumed
to be the correlative of a specific gravitative force.

Thus, then, by the Indestructibility of Matter, we really
mean the indestructibility of the force with which Matter
affects us. As we become conscious of Matter only through
that resistance which it opposes to our muscular energy, so
do we become conscious of the permanence of Matter only
through the permanence of this resistance; either as im-
mediately or as mediately proved to us. And this truth is
made manifest not only by analysis of the a 'posteriori
cognition, but equally so by analysis of the a jpriori one.*

* Lest lie should not have observed it, the reader must he warned that the
terms " d priori truth " and " necessary truth," as used m this work, are to he
interpreted not in the old sense, as implying cognitions wholly inde})cndeut
of experiences, hut as implying cognitions that have been rendered organic
by immense accumulations of experiences, received partly by the individual,
but mainly by all ancestral individuals whose nervous systems he inherits. On
referring to the Principles of Psychology (§§ 426 — 433), it will be seen that
the warrant alleged for one of these irreversible ultimate convictions is that,
on the hypothesis of Evolution, it represents an immeasurably-greater accumu-
lation of experiences than can be acq^uired by any single individual.

CHAPTER V.

THE CONTINUITY OF MOTION.

§ 55. Another general trutli of tlie same order witH the
foregoing, must here be specified. Like the Indestructibility
of Matter, the Continuity of Motion, or, more strictly, of
that something which has Motion for one of its sensible
forms, is a proposition on the truth of which depends the
possibility of exact Science, and therefore of a Philosophy
which unifies the results of exact Science. Motions, visible
and" invisible, of masses and of molecules, form the larger
half of the phenomena to be interpreted; and if such
motions might either proceed from nothing or lapse into
nothing, there could be no scientific interpretation of them.

This second fundamental truth, like the first, is by no
means self-evident to primitive men or to the uncultured
among ourselves. Contrariwise, to undeveloped minds the
opposite seems self-evident. The facts that a stone thrown
up soon loses its ascending motion, and that after the blow
its fall gives to the Earth, it remains quiescent, apparently
•prove that the principle of Activity* which the stone mani-
fested may disappear absolutely. Accepting, without criti-
cism, the dicta of unaided perception, to the effect that
adjacent objects put in motion soon return to rest, all men
once believed, and most believe still, that motion can puss
into nothing; and ordinarily does so pass. But

the establishment of certain facts having an opposite impli-

* Throughout this Chapter I use this phrase, not with any metaphysical
meaning, but merely to avoid foregone conclusions.

THE CONTINUITY OF MOTION. 181

cation, led to inquiries whicli have gradually proved these
appearances to be illusive. Tlie discovery that the planets
revolve round the Sun with undiminishing speed, raised
the suspicion that a moving body, when not interfered with,
will go on for ever without change of velocity ; and sug-
gested the question whether bodies which lose their motion,
do not at the same time communicate as much motion to
other bodies. It was a familiar fact that a stone would
glide further over a smooth surface, such as ice, presenting
no small objects to which it could part with its motion by
collision, than over a surface strewn with such small objects ;
and that a projectile would travel a far greater distance
through a rare medium like air, than through a dense
medium like water. Thus the primitive notion that moving
bodies had an inherent tendency to lose their motion and
finally stop — a notion of which the Greeks did not get rid,
but which lasted till the time of Gahleo — ^began to give way.
It was further shaken by such experiments as those of
Hooke, which proved that the spinning of a top continues
long in proportion as it is prevented from communicating
motion to surrounding matter.

To explain specifically how modern physicists interpret
all disappearances and diminutions of visible motion, would
require more knowledge than I possess and more space than
I can spare. Here it must suflB.ce to state, generally, that
the molar motion which disappears when a bell is struck by
its clapper, reappears in the belFs vibrations and in the
waves of air they produce ; that when a moving mass is
stopped by coming against a mass that is immoveable, the
motion which does not reappear in sound reappears as mole-
cular motion ; and that, similarly, when bodies rub against
one another, the motion lost by friction is gained in the
motion of molecules. But one aspect of this general truth,
as it is displayed to us in the motions of masses, we must
carefully contemplate; for otherwise the doctrine of the
Continuity of Motion will be entirely misapprehended.

182 THE CONTINUITY OF MOTION.

§ 5G. As expressed by Newton, tke first law of motion is
tliat " every body must persevere in its state of rest, or of
uniform motion in a straight line, unless it be compelled to
cbange tbat state by forces impressed upon it."

With this truth may be associated the truth that a body
describing a circular orbit round a centre which detains it
by a tractive force, moves in that orbit with undiminished
velocity.

The first of these abstract truths is never realized in the
concrete, and the second of them is but approximately
realized. Uniform motion in a straight line, implies the
absence of a resisting medium; and it further implies the
absence of forces, gravitative or other, exercised by neigh-
bouring masses : conditions never fulfilled. So, too, the
maintenance of a circular orbit by any celestial body, im-
plies both that there are no perturbing bodies, and that there
is a certain exact adjustment between its velocity and the
tractive "force of its primary : neither requirement ever
being conformed to. In all actual orbits, sensibly elliptical
as they are, the velocity is sensibly variable. And along
with great eccentricity there goes great variation.

^To the case of celestial bodies which, moving in eccentric
orbits, display at one time little motion and at another
much motion, may be joined the case of the pendulum.
With speed now increasing and now decreasing, the pen-
dulum alternates between extremes at which motion ceases.

How shall we so conceive these allied phenomena as to
express rightly the truth common to them ? The first law
of motion, nowhere literally fulfilled, is yet, in a sense,
implied by these facts which seem at variance with it.
Though in a circular orbit the direction of the motion is
continually being changed, yet the velocity remains un-
changed. Though in an elliptical orbit there is now
acceleration and now retardation, yet the average speed is
constant through successive revolutions. Though the pen-
dulum comes to a momentary rest at the end of each

THE CONTINUITY OP MOTION. 183

swing, and tlien begins a reverse motion ; jet tlie oscilla-
tion, considered as a whole, is continuous : friction and
atmospheric resistance being absent, tliis alternation of
states will go on for ever.

What, then, do these cases show us in common ? That
which vision familiarizes us with in Motion, and that which
has thus been made the dominant element in our conception
of Motion, is not the element of which we can allege con-
tinuity. If we regard Motion simply as change of place ;
then the pendulum shows us both that the rate of this
change may vary from instant to instant, and that, ceasing
at intervals, it may be afresh initiated.

But if what we may call the translation-element in Motion
is not continuous, what is continuous ? If, watching like
Galileo a swinging chandelier, we observe, not its iso-
chronism, but the recurring reversal of its swing, we are
impressed with the fact that though, at the end of each
swing, the translation through space ceases, yet there is
something which does not cease ; for the translation recom-
mences in the opposite direction. And on remembering
that when a violent push was given to the chandelier it
described a larger arc, and was a longer time before the
resistance of the air destroyed its oscillations, we are
shown that what continues to exist during these oscilla-
tions is some correlative of the muscular effort which put
the chandelier in motion. The truth forced on our attention
by these facts and inferences, is that translation through
space is not itself an existence ; and that hence the cessation
of Motion, considered simply as translation, is not the cessa-
tion of an existence, but is the cessation of a certain sign of
an existence — a sign occurring under certain conditions.

Still there remains a difficulty. If that element in the
chandelier's motion of which alone we can allege continuity,
is the correlative of the muscular effort which moved the
chandelier, what becomes of this element at either extreme
of the oscillation ? Arrest the chandelier in the middle of

184 THE CONTINUITY OF MOTION.

its swing, and it gives a "blow to tlie hand — exhibits some
principle of activity such as muscular effort can give. But
touch it at either turning point, and it displays no such
principle of activity. This has disappeared just as much
as the translation through space has disappeared. How,
then, can it be alleged that though the Motion through
space is not continuous, the principle of activity implied
by the Motion is continuous ?

Unquestionably the facts show that the principle of
activity continues to exist under some form. When not
perceptible it must be latent. How is it latent ? A clue
to the answer is gained on observing that though the
chandelier when seized at the turning point of its swing,
gives no impact in the direction of its late movement, it
forthwith begins to pull in the opposite direction; and
on observing, further, that its pull is great when the
swing has been made extensive by a violent push. Hence
the loss of visible activity at the highest point of the
upward motion, is accompanied by the production of an
invisible activity which generates the subsequent motion
downwards. To conceive this latent activity gained as
an existence equal to the perceptible activity lost, is not
easy ; but we may help ourselves so to conceive it by con-
sidering cases of another class.

§ 57. When one who pushes against a door that has stuck
fast, produces by great effort no motion, but eventually by
a little greater effort bursts the door open, swinging it back
against the wall and tumbling headlong into the room; he
has evidence that a certain muscular strain which did not
produce translation of matter through space, was yet equiva-
lent to a certain amount of such translation. Again, when
a railway-porter gradually stops a detached carriage by
pulling at the buffer, he shows us that (supposing friction,
etc., absent) the slowly-diminished motion of the carriage
over a certain space, is the equivalent of the constant back-

THE CONTINUITY OF MOTION. 185

TTard strain put upon tlie carriage wliile it is travelling
tlirough that space. Carrying with, us the conception
thus reached, we will now consider a case which makes
it more definite.

When used as a plaything by boys, a ball fastened to
the end of an india-rubber string yields a clear idea of
the correlation between perceptible activity and latent ac-
tivity. If, retaining one end of the string, a boy throws the
ball from him horizontally, its motion is resisted by the
increasing strain on the string; and the string, stretched
more and more as the ball recedes, presently brings it to
rest. Wbere now exists tbe principle of activity which
the moving ball displayed ? It exists in the strained thread
of india-rubber. Under what form of changed mole-
cular state it exists we need not ask. It suffices that the
string is the seat of a tension generated by the motion of the
ball, and equivalent to it. When the ball has been arrested,
the stretched string begins. to generate in it an opposite mo-
tion ; and continues to accelerate that motion until the ball
comes back to the point at which, the stretching of the
string commenced — ^a point at which, but for loss by atmos-
pheric resistance and molecular redistribution, its velocity
would be equal to the original velocity. Here the truth, that
the principle of activity, alternating between visible and
invisible modes, does not cease to exist when the translation
through, space ceases to exist, is readily comprehensible ;
and it becomes easy to understand the corollary that at each
point in the path of the ball, the quantity of its perceptible
activity, plus the quantity which is latent in the stretched
string, yield a constant sum.

Aided by this illustration we can, in a general way, con-
ceive what happens between bodies connected with one
another, not by a stretched string, but by a traction exer-
cised through what SQems empty space. It matters not
to our general conception that the intensity of this trac-
tion varies in a totally-different manner : decreasing as

186 THE CONTINUITY OF MOTION.

the square of the distance increases, but being prac-
tically constant for terrestrial distances. These differences
being recognized, there is nevertheless to be recognized
a truth common to both cases. The weight of some-
thing held in the hand shows that there exists between
one body in space and another, a strain : this downward
pull, ascribed to gravity, affects the hand as it might be
affected by a stretched elastic string. Hence, when a body
projected upwards and gradually retarded by gravity, finally
stops, we must regard the principle of activity manifested
during its upward motion but disappearing at its turning-
point, as having become latent in the strain between it and
the Earth — ^^a strain of which the quantity is to be con-
ceived as the product of its intensity and the distance
through which it acts. Carrying a step further our illus-
tration of the stretched string, will elucidate this. To
simulate the action of gravity at terrestrial distances, let
us imagine that when the attached moving body has
stretched the elastic string to its limit, say at the distance
of ten feet, a second like string could instantly be tied to
the end of the first and to the body, which, continuing
its course, stretched this second string to an equal length,
and so on with a succession of such strings, till the body
was arrested. Then, manifestly, the quantity of the prin-
ciple of activity which the moving body had displayed,
but which has now become latent in the series of stretched
strings, is measured by the number of such strings simi-
larly stretched— the number of feet through which this
constant strain has been encountered, and over wJdch it
still extends. Now though we cannot conceive the tractive
force of gravity to be exercised in a like way — though
the gravitative action, utterly unknown in nature, is pro-
bably a resultant of actions pervading the ethereal medium;
yet the above analogy suggests the belief that the prin-
ciple of activity in a moving body arrested by gravity,
has not ceased to exist, but has become so much imper-

THE CONTINUITY OF MOTION. 187

•ceptible or latent activity in tlie medium occupying space,
and that wlien tlie body falls, this is re-transformed into
its equivalent of perceptible activity. If we conceive tlie
process at all, we must conceive it tbus : otherwise, we have
to conceive that a power is changed into a space-relation,
and this is inconceivable.

Here, then, is the solution of the difficulty. The space-
element of Motion is not in itself a thing. Change of position
is not an existence, but the manifestation of an existence.
This existence may cease to display itself as translation ; but
it can do so only by displaying itself as strain. And this
principle of activity, now shown by translation, now by
strain, and often by the two together, is alone that which
in Motion we can call continuous.

§ 58. What is this principle of activity? Vision gives
us no idea of it. If by a mirror we cast the image of
an illuminated object on to a dark wall, and then suddenly
changing the attitude of the mirror, make the reflected
image pass from side to side, the image, if recognized as
such, does not raise the thought that there is present in it
a principle of activity. Before we can conceive the presence
of this, we must regard the impression yielded thi'ough
our eyes as symbolizing something tangible — something
which offers resistance. Hence the principle of activity
as known by sight, is inferential : visible translation sug-
gests by association the presence of a principle of activity
which would be appreciable by our skin and muscles did
we lay hold of the body. Evidently, then, this principle
of activity which Motion shows us, is the objective corre-
late of our subjective sense of effort. By pushing and pull-
ing, we get feelings which, generalized and abstracted, yield
our ideas of resistance and tension. Now displayed by
changing position and now by unchanging strain, this prin-
ciple of activity is ultimately conceived by us under the
single form of its equivalent muscular effort. So that the

188 THE CONTINUITY OP MOTION.

continuity of Motion, as well as tlie indestructibility of
Matter, is really known to us in terms of Force.

§ 59. And now we reach. tHe essential truth to bo here
especially noted. All proofs of the Continuity of Motion
involve the postulate that the quantity of force is constant.
Observe what results when we analyze the reasonings by
which the Continuity of Motion, as here understood, is shown.

A particular planet can be identified only by its constant
power to affect our visual organs in a special way. Fur-
ther, such planet has not been seen to move by the astro-
nomical observer ; but its motion is inferred from a com-
parison of its present position with the position it before
occupied. If rigorously examined, this comparison proves
to be a comparison between the different impressions pro-
duced on him by the different adjustments of his observing
instruments. And, manifestly, the validity of all the in-
ferences drawn from these likenesses and unlikenesses,
depends on the truth of the assumption that these masses
of matter, celestial and terrestrial, will continue to affect
his senses in exactly the same ways under the same con-
ditions; and that no changes in their powers of affecting
him can have arisen without force having been expended
in working those changes. Going a step further

back, it turns out that difference in the adjustment of his
observing instrument, and by implication in the planet, is
meaningless until shown to correspond with a certain calcu-
lated position which the planet must occupy, supposing that
no motion has been lost. And if, finally, we examine the
implied calculation, we find • that it takes into account
those accelerations and retardations which ellipticity of the
orbit involves, as well as those variations of velocity caused
by adjacent planets — ^we find, that is, that the motion is
concluded to be indestructible not from the uniform velo-
city of the planet, but from the constant quantity of motion
exhibited when allowance is made for the motion communi-

THE CONTINDITY OP MOTION. 189

cated toj or received from, other celestial bodies. And
when we ask how this commuiiicated motion is estimated,
we discover that the estimate is based on certain laws of
force ; which laws, one and all, embody the postulate that
force cannot be destroyed. Without the axiom that action
and re-action are equal and opposite, astronomy could not
make its exact predictions.

Similarly with the a priori conclusion that Motion is con-
tinuous. That which defies suppression in thought, is really
the force which the motion indicates. We can imagine
retardation to result from the action of external bodies.
But to imagine this, is not possible without imagining
abstraction of the force implied by the motion. We are
obliged to conceive this force as impressed in the shape of
reaction on the bodies that cause the arrest. And the
motion communicated to them, we are compelled to re-
gard, not as directly communicated, but as a product of
the communicated force. We can mentally diminish the
velocity or space-element of motion, by diffusing the mo-
mentum or force-element over a larger mass of matter;
but the quantity of this force-element, which we regard as
the cause of the motion, is unchangeable in thought.*

* It is needful to state that this exposition differs in its point of view from
the expositions ordinarily given ; and that some of the words employed, such
as strain^ have somewhat larger implications. Unable to learn anything
about the nature of Force, physicists have, of late years, formulated ulti-
mate physical truths in such ways as often tacitly to exclude the conscious-
ness of Force : conceiving cause, as Hume proposed, in terms of antecedence
and sequence only. ** Potential energy," for example, is defined as consti-
tuted by such relations in space as permit masses to generate in one another
certain motions, but as being in itself nothing. While this mode of con-
ceiving the phenomena sufl&ces for physical inquiries, it does not suffice for
the purposes of philosophy. After referring to the Principles of Psychology ^
§§ 347 — 350, the reader will understand what I mean by saying that since
our ideas of Body, Space, Motion, are derived from our ideas of muscular
tension, which are the ultimate symbols into which all our other mental
symbols are interpretable, to formulate phenomena in the proximate terms of
Body, Space, Motion, while discharging from the concepts the consciousness
of Force, is to acknowledge the superstructure while ignoring the foundation.

CHAPTER YI.

THE PERSISTENCE OF FORCE.*

§ 60. In tlie foregoing two chapters, manifestations of
force of two f andamentally-diif erent classes have been dealt
with — ^the force by which matter demonstrates itself to us
as existing, and the force by which it demonstrates itself
to us as acting.

Body is distingaishable from space by its power of affect-
ing our senses, and, in the last resort, by its opposition to
our efforts. We can conceive of body only by joining in
thought extension and resistance : take away resistance, and
there remains only space. In what way this force which
produces space-occupancy is • conditioned we do not know.

* Some explanation of this title seems needful. In the text itself are given
the reasons for using the word "force" instead of the word "energy;"
and here I must say why I think "persistence " preferable to " conserva-
tion." Some two years ago (this was written in 1861) I expressed to my
friend Prof. Huxley, ray dissatisfaction with the (then) current expression —
*• Conservation of Force : " assigning as reasons, first, that the word "con-
servation " implies a conserver and an act of conserving ; and, second, that
it does not imply the existence of the force before the particular manifesta-
tion of it which is contemplated. And I may now addj as a further fault,
the tacit assumption that, without some act of conservation, force would
disappear. All these implications are at variance with the conception to bo
conveyed. In place of "conservation" Prof. Htixley suggested persiste7ice.
This meets most of the objections ; and though it may be urged against it
that it does not directly imply pre-existence of the force at any time
manifested, yet no other word less faulty in this respect can be found. In
the absence of a word specially coined for the purpose, it seems the best j
and as such I adopt it.

THE PERSISTENCE OF FORCE. 191

The mode of force wliicli is revealed to us only by opposi-
tion to our own powers, may be in essence tlie same with
the mode of force which reveals itself by the changes it
initiates in our consciousness. That the space a body
occupies is in part determined by the degree of that activity
possessed by its molecules which we call heat, is a familiar
truth. Moreover, we know that such molecular re -arrange-
ment as occurs in the change of water into ice, is accom-
panied by an evolution of force which may burst the
containing vessel and give motion to the fragments.
Nevertheless, the forms of our experience oblige us to
distinguish between two modes of force ; the one not a
worker of change and the other a worker of change, actual
or potential. The first of these — the space-occupying kind
of force — ^has no specific name.

For the second kind of force, distinguishable as that by
which change is either being caused or will be caused if
counterbalancing forces are overcome, the specific name
now accepted is " Energy.^' That which in the last chapter
was spoken of as perceptible activity, is called by physicists,
'^ actual energy ^' ; and that which was called latent activity,
is called " potential energy.^' "While including the mode
of activity shown in molar motion. Energy includes also
the several modes of activity into which molar motion is
transformable — ^heat, light, etc. It is the common name for
the power shovni alike in the movements of masses and
in the movements of molecules. To our perceptions this
second kind of force differs from the first kind as being
not intrinsic but extrinsic.

In aggregated matter as presented to sight and touch,
this antithesis is, as above implied, much obscured. Espe-
cially in a compound substance, both the potential energy-
locked up in the chemically-combined molecules, and the
actual energy made perceptible to us as heat, compljcate
the manifestations of intrinsic force by the manifestations
of extrinsic force. But the antithesis here partially hidden,

192

THE PERSISTENCE OF EOECE.

is clearly seen on reducing tlie data to their lowest terms
— a unit of matter, or atom, and its motion. The force by
wMcli it exists is passive hut independent ; wliile tlie force
by wMcli it moves is active hut dejpendent on its past
and present relations to otter atoms. These two cannot
be identified in our thoughts. For as it is impossible to
think of motion without something that moves ; so it is
impossible to think of energy without something possess-
ing the energy.

While recognizing this fundamental distinction between
that intrinsic force by which body manifests itself as
occupying space, and that extrinsic force distinguished as
energy ; I here treat of them together as being alike per-
sistent. And I thus treat of them together partly for the
reason that, in our consciousness of them, there is the same
essential element. The sense of effort is our subjective
symbol for objective force in general, passive and active.
Power of neutralizing that which we know as our own
muscular strain, is the ultimate element in our idea of body
as distinguished from space ; and any energy which we can
give to body, or receive from it, is thought of as equal to a
certain amount of muscular strain. The two conscious-
nesses differ essentially in this, that the feeling of effort
.common to the two is in the last case joined with conscious-
ness of change of position, but in the first case is not.*

There is, however, a further and more important reason

* In respect to the fundamental distinction here made between the space-
occupying kind of force, and the kind of force shown by various modes of
activity, I am, as in the last chapter, at issue with some of my scientific
friends. They do not admit that the conception of force is involved in the
conception of a unit of matter. From the psychological point of view, how-
ever. Matter, in all its properties, is the unknown cause of the sensations it
produces in us ; of which the one which remains when all the others are
absent, is resistance to our efforts— a resistance we are obliged to symbolizt
as the equivalent of the muscular force it opposes. In imagining a unit oi
matter we may not ignore this symbol, by which alone a unit of matter car
be figured in thought as an existence. It is not allowable to speak as
though there remained a conception of an existence when that conception

THE PERSISTENCE OF FORCE. 192a

for here dealing with the truth that Force under each of
these forms persists. We have to examine its warrant.

§ 61. At the risk of trying the reader's patience, we must
reconsider the reasoning through which the indestructibility
of Matter and the continuity of Motion are established, that
we may see how impossible it is to arrive by parallel
reasoning at the Persistence of Force.

In all three cases the question is one of quantity : — does
the Matter, or Motion, or Force, ever diminish in quantity ?
Quantitative science implies measurement; and measure-
ment implies a unit of measure. The units of measure
from which all others of any exactness are derived, are units
of linear extension. Our units of linear. extension are the
lengths of masses of matter, or the spaces between marks
made on the masses.; and we assume these lengths, or these
spaces between marks, to remain unchanged while the
temperature is unchanged. From the standard-measure
preserved at Westminster, are derived the measures for
trigonometrical surveys, for geodesy, the measurement of
terrestrial arcs, and the calculations of astronomical dis-
tances, dimensions, etc., and therefore for Astronomy at
large. Were these units of length, original and derived,
irregularly variable, there could be no celestial dynamics ;
nor any of that verification yielded by it of the constancy
of the ' celestial masses or of theii* energies. Hence, per-
sistence of the space-occupying species of force cannot
be proved; for the reason that it is tacitly assumed in
every experiment or observation by which it is proposed
to prove it. The like holds of the force distin-

guished as energy. The endeavour to establish this by
measurement, takes for granted both the persistence of the

has been eviscerated — deprived of the element of thought by which it i.
distinguished from empty space. Divest the conceived unit of matter of the
objective correlate to our subjective sense of effort, and the entire fabric of
physical conceptions disappeai'S.

1926 THE PERSISTENCE OF FOECE.

intrinsic force by wLidi body manifests itself as existing
and the persistence of the extrinsic force by which
body acts. For it is from these equal units of linear
extension, through the medium of the equal-armed
lever or scales, that we derive our equal units of weight,
or gravitative force; and only by means of these can we
make those quantitative comparisons by which the truths of
exact science are* reached. Throughout the investigations
leading the chemist to the conclusion that of the carbon
which has disappeared during combustion, no portion has
been lost, what is his repeatedly-assigned proof? That
afforded by the scales. In what terms is the verdict of the
scales given ? In grains — in units of weight — ^in units of
gravitative force. And what is the total content of the
verdict ? That as many units of gravitative force as the
carbon exhibited at first, it exhibits still. The validity of the
inference, then, depends entirely upon tJie constancy of the
units of force. If the force with which the portion of metal
called a grain -weight, tends towards the Earth, has varied,
the inference that matter is indestructible is vicious.
Everything turns on the truth of the assumption that the
gravitation of the weights is persistent; and of this no
proof is assigned, or can be assigned. In the

reasonings of the astronomer there is a like implication;
from which we may draw the like conclusion. No problem
in celestial physics can be solved without the assumption of
some unit of force. This unit need not be, like a pound or
a ton, one of which we can take direct cognizance. It is
requisite only that the mutual attraction which some two of
the bodies concerned exercise at a given distance, should be
taken as one ; so that the other attractions with which the
problem deals, may be expressed in terms of this one. Such
unit being assumed, the motions which the respective
masses will generate in each other in a given time, are
calculated ; and compounding these with the motions they
already have, their places at tlie end of that time are pro-

THE PERSISTENCE QP FORCE. 192c

dieted. Tlie prediction is verified by observation. From
this, either of two inferences may be drawn. Assuming
the masses to be unchanged, their energies, actual and poten-
tial, may be proved to be undiminished ; or assuming their
energies to be undiminished, the masses may be proved un-
changed. But the validity of one or other inference, de-
pends wholly on the truth of the assumption that the unit
of force is unchanged. Let it be supposed that the gravi-
tation of the two bodies towards each other at the given
distance, has varied, and the conclusions drawn are no longer
true. Nor is it only in their concrete data that

the reasonings of terrestrial and celestial physics assume the
Persistence of Force. The equality of action and reaction
is taken for granted from beginning to end of either argu-
ment j and to assert that action and reaction are equal
and opposite, is to assert that Force is persistent. The
allegation really amounts to this, that there cannot be
an isolated force beginning and ending in nothing; but
that any force manifested, implies an equal antecedent force
from which it is derived, and against which it is a reaction.
We might indeed be certain, even in the absence of any
such analysis as the foregoing, that there must exist some
principle which, as being the basis of science, cannot be
established by science. All reasoned-out conclusions what-
ever must rest on some postulate. As before shown (§ 23),
we cannot go on merging derivative truths in those wider
and wider truths from which they are derived, without
reaching at last a widest truth which can be merged in no
other, or derived from no other. And whoever contem-
plates the relation in which it stands to the truths of science
in general, will see that this truth transcending demonstra-
tion is the Persistence of Force.

§ G2. But now what is the force of which we predi-
cate persistence ? It is not the force we are immediately
conscious of in our own muscular efforts ; for this does

192d THE PEESISTENCE OP FORCE.

not persist. As soon as an ontstretclied limb is relaxed,
the sense of tension disappears. True, we assert tliat in tlie
stone thrown or in tlie weight lifted, is exhibited the effect
of this muscular tension ; and that the force which has
ceased to be present in our consciousness, exists elsewhere.
But it does not exist elsewhere under any form cognizable
by us. In § 18 we saw that though, on raising an object
from the ground, we are obliged to think of its down-
ward pull as equal and opposite to our upward pull ; and
though it is impossible to represent these as equal without
representing them as like in kind ; yet, since their likeness
in kind would imply in the object a sensation of muscular
tension, which cannot be ascribed to it, we are compelled to
admit that force as it exists out of our consciousness, is not
force as we know it. Hence the force of which we assert
persistence is that Absolute Force of which we are indefi-
nitely conscious as the necessary correlate of the force we
know. By the Persistence of Force, we really mean the
persistence of some Cause which transcends our know-
ledge and conception. In asserting it we assert an Uncon-
ditioned Reality, without beginning or end.

Thus, quite . unexpectedly, we come down once more to
that ultimate truth in which, as we saw. Religion and
Science coalesce. On examining the data underlying a
rational Theory of- Things, we find them all at last re-
solvable into that datum without which consciousness was
shown to be impossible — the continued existence of an Un-
knowable as the necessary correlative of the Knowable.

The sole truth which transcends experience by underlying
it, is thus the Persistence of Force. This being the basis
of experience, must be the basis of any scientific organiza-
tion of experiences. To this an ultimate analysis brings
us down ; and on this a rational synthesis must build up.

CHAPTER YIL

THE PERSISTENCE OP RELATIONS AMONG FOKCES.

§ 63. The first deduction to be drawn from tlie ultimate
universal truth that force persists, is that the re-
lations among forces persist. Supposing a given mani-
festation of force, under a given form and given condi-
tions, be either preceded by or succeeded by some other
manifestation, it must, in aU cases where the form and
conditions are the same, bo preceded by or succeeded by
such other manifestation. Every antecedent mode of the
Unknowable must have an invariable connexion, quantitative
and qualitative, with that mode of the Unknowable which
we call its consequent.

For to say otherwise is to deny the persistence of force.
If in any two cases there is exact likeness not only between
those most conspicuous antecedents which we distinguish
as the causes, but also between those accompanying antece-
dents which wo call the conditions, we cannot affirm that
the effects will differ, without affirming either that some
force has come into existence or that some force has ceased
to exist. If the cooperative forces in the one case are
equal to those in the other, each to each, in distribution and
r.inount ; then it is impossible to conceive the product of
their joint action in the one case as unlike that in the other,
without conceiving one or more of the forces to have in-
creased or diminished in quantity ; and this is conceiving
that force is not persistent.
10

194 THE PERSISTENCE OE RELATIONS AMONG FORCES.

To impress the trutli liere enunciated under its most
abstract form, some illustrations will be desirable.

§ 64. Let two equal bullets be projected witH equal
forces ; then, in equal times, equal distances must be tra-
velled by them. The assertion that one of them will describe
an assigned space sooner than the other, though their
initial momenta were alike and they have been equally
resisted (for if they are unequally resisted the antecedents
differ) is au assertion that equal quantities of force have not
done equal amounts of work; and this cannot be thought with-
out thinking that some force has disappeared into nothing or
arisen out of nothing. Assume, further, that during

its flight, one of them has been drawn by the Earth a certain
number of inches out of its original line of movement ; then
the other, which has moved the same distance in the same
time, must have fallen just as far towards the Earth.
No other result can be imagined without imagining
that equal attractions acting for equal times, have pro-
duced unequal effects; which involves the inconceivable
proposition that some action has been created or anni-
hilated. Again, one of the bullets having pene-
trated the target to a certain depth, penetration by
the other bullet to a smaller depth, unless caused by
altered shape of the bullet or greater local density in the
target, cannot be mentally represented. Such a modifica-
tion of the consequents without modification of the ante^
cedents, is thinkable only through the impossible thought
that something has become nothing or nothing has become
something.

It is thus not with sequences only, but also with simul-
taneous changes and permanent co-existences. Given
charges of powder alike in quantity and quality, fired from
barrels of the same structure, and propelling bullets of
equal weights, sizes, and forms, similarly rammed down ;
and it is a necessary inference that the concomitant actions

THE PEESISTENCE OP RELATIONS AMOXG rORCES. 195

wliicli make up tlie explosion^ will bear to one another like
relations of quantity and quality in tlie two cases. The pro-
portions among the different products of combustion will be
equal. The several amounts of force taken up in giving
momentum to the bullet, heat to the gases, and sound on
their escape, will preserve the same ratios. The quantities
of light and smoke in the one case will be what they are in
the other ; and the two recoils will be alike. For no dif-
ference of proportion, or no difference of relation, among these
concurrent phenomena can be imagined as arising, without
imagining such difference of proportion or relation as arising
uncaused — as arising by the creation or annihilation of
force.

That which here holds between two cases must hold
among any number of cases ; and that which, here holds
between antecedents and consequents that are comparatively
simple, must hold however involved the antecedents become
and however involved the consequents become.

§ 65. Thus what we call uniformity of law, resolvable as
we find it into the persistence of relations among forces, is
an immediate corollary from the persistence of force. The
general conclusion that there exist constant connexions
among phenomena, ordinarily regarded as an inductive
conclusion only, is really a conclusion deducible from the
ultimate datum of consciousness. Though, in saying this, wc
seem to be illegitimately inferring that what is true of
the ego is also true of tbe non-ego ; yet here this inference is
legitimate. For that which we thus predicate as holding in
common of ego and non-ego, is that which, they have in
common as being both existences. The assertion of an exist-
ence beyond consciousness, is itself an assertion that there is
something beyond consciousness which persists ; for persist-
ence is nothing more than continued existence, and existence
cannot be thought of as other than continued. And wo
cannot assert persistence of this something beyond conscious-

196 THE PERSISTENCE OF RELATIONS AMONG FORCES.

nesSj witliout asserting tliat tlie relations among its mani-
festations are persistent.

That uniformity of law tlius follows inevitably from tlie
persistence of force, will become more and more clear as we
advance. The next chapter will indirectly supply abundant
illustrations of ife.

CHAPTER Vm.

THE TRANSFORMATION AND EQUIVALENCE OF FORCES.

§ GG- When^ to tlie unaided senses^ Science began to add
supplementary senses in the shape of measuring instruments,
men began to* perceive various phenomena which eyes and
Angers could not distinguish. Of known forms of force,
minuter manifestations became appreciable ; and forms of
force before unknown were rendered cognizable and measure-
able. Where forces had apparently ended in nothing, and
had been carelessly supposed to have actually done so, instru-
mental observation proved that effects had in every instance
been produced : the forces reappearing in new shapes.
Hence there has at length arisen the inquiry whether the
force displayed in each surrounding change, does not in the
act of expenditure undergo metamorphosis into an equivalent
amount of some other force or forces. And to this inquiry
experiment is giving an affirmative answer, which becomes
daily more decisive. Meyer, Joule, Grove and Helmholtz
are more than any others to be credited with the clear enunci-
ation of this doctrine. Let us glance at the evidence on
which it rests.

Motion, wherever we can directly trace its genesis, we find
to pre-exist as some other mode of force. Our own . volun-
tary acts have always certain sensations of muscolar
tension as their antecedents. When, as in letting fall a re-
laxed limb, we are conscious of a bodily movement requiring
no effort, the explanation is that the effort was exerted in

11)8 THE TRANSFORMATION AND EQUIVALENCE OF FORCES.

raising the limb to tlie position whence it fell. In this case,
as in the case of an inanimate body descending to the Earth,
the force accumulated by the downward motion is just equal
to the force previously expended in the act of eleva-
tion. Conversely, Motion that is arrested produces,
under different circumstances, heat, electricity, magnetism,
light. From the warming of the hands by rubbing them
together, up to the ignition of a railway-brake by intense
friction — from the lighting of detonating powder by percus-
sion, up to the setting on fire a block of wood by a few blows
from a steam-hammer ; we have abundant instances in which
heat arises as Motion ceases. It is uniformly found, that the
heat generated is great in proportion as the Motion lost is
great ; and that to diminish the arrest of motion, by di-
minishing the friction, is to diminish the quantity of heat
evolved. The production of electricity by Motion is illus-
trated equally in the boy's experiment with rubbed sealing-
wax, in the common electrical machine, and in the apparatus
for exciting electricity by the escape of steam. Wherever
there is friction between heterogeneous bodies, electrical dis-
turbance is one of the consequences. Magnetism may result
from Motion either immediately, as through percussion on
iron, or mediately as through electric currents previously
generated by Motion. And similarly. Motion may create
light; either directly, as in the minute incandescent frag-
ments struck off by violent collisions, or indirectly, as
through the electric 8j)ark. " Lastly, Motion may be again
reproduced by the forces which have emanated from Motion ;
thus, the divergence of the electrometer, the revolution of
the electrical wheel, the deflection of the magnetic needle,
are, when resulting from frictional electricity, palpable move-
ments reproduced by the intermediate modes of force, which
have themselves been originated by motion.''

That mode of force which we distinguish as Ilcat, is now
generally regarded by physicists as molecular motion — not
motion as displayed in the changed relations of sensible

T^-: TP.AXSFOEMATION AND EQUIVALENCE OF FORCES. 190

masses to each otlier, but as occurring among the units of
which such sensible masses consist. If we cease to think of
Heat as that particular sensation given to us by bodies in
certain conditions, and consider the phenomena otherwise
presented by these bodies, we find that motion, either in
them or in surrounding bodies, or in both, is all that
we have evidence of. With one or two exceptions which arc
obstacles to every theory of Heat, heated bodies expand ; and
expansion can be interpreted only as a movement of the units
of a mass in relation to each other. That so-called radia-
tion through which anything of higher temperature than
things around it, communicates Heat to them, is clearly a
species of motion. Moreover, the evidence afibrded by the
thermometer that Heat thus difiuses itself, is simply a move-
ment caused in the mercurial column. And that the molecular
motion which we call Heat, may be transformed into visible
motion, familiar proof is given by the steam-engine ; in
which • '* the piston and all its concomitant masses of matter
are moved by the molecular dilatation of the vapour of
water." Where Heat is absorbed without apparent

result, modern inquiries show that decided though unob-
trusive changes are produced : as on glass, the molecular
state of which is so far changed by heat, that a polarized ray
of light passing through it becomes visible, which it docs not
do when the glass is cold ; or as on polished metallic surfaces,
which are so far changed in structure by thermal radiations
from objects very close to them, as to retain permanent im-
pressions of such objects. The transformation of Heat into
electricity, occurs when dissimilar metals touching each other
are heated at the point of contact : electric currents being so
induced. Solid, incombustible matter introduced into heated
gas, as lime into the oxy-hydrogen flame, becomes incande-
scent ; and so exhibits the conversion of Heat into light.
The production of magnetism by Heat, if it cannot be proved
to take place directly, may be proved to take place indirectly
through the medium of electricity. And through the same

200 THE TEANSFORMATION AND EQUIVALENCE OP FORCES.

medium may be establlslied the correlation of Heat and
chemical affinity — a correlation which is indeed implied by
the marked influence that Heat exercises on chemical com-
position and decomposition.

The transformations of Electricity into other modes of
force, are still more clearly demonstrable. Produced by the
motion of heterogeneous bodies in contact, Electricity, through
attractions and repulsions, will immediately reproduce motion
in neighbouring bodies. Now a current of Electricity gener-
ates magnetism in a bar of soft iron ; and now the rotation
of a permanent magnet generates currents of Electricity.
Here we have a battery in which from the play of chemical
affinities an electric current results ; and there, in the
adjacent cell, we have an electric current effecting chemical
decomposition. In the conducting wire we witness the
transformation of Electricity into heat ; while in electric
sparks and in the voltaic arc we see light produced. Atomic
arrangement, too, is changed by Electricity : as instance
the transfer of matter from pole to pole of a battery ; the
fractures caused by the disruptive discharge ; the formation
of crystals under the influence of electric currents. And
whether, conversely. Electricity be or be not directly gener-
ated by re- arrangement of the atoms of matter, it is at any
rate indirectly so generated through the intermediation of
magnetism.

How from Magnetism the other physical forces result,
must be next briefly noted — briefly, because in each succes-
sive case the illustrations become in great part the obverse
forms of those before given. That Magnetism produces
motion is the ordinary evidence we have of its existence. In
the magneto-electric machine we see a rotating magnet
evolving electricity. And the electricity so evolved may
immediately after exhibit itself as heat, light, or chemical
affinity. Faraday's discovery of the effect of Magnetism ou
polarized light, as well as the discovery that change of mag-
netic state is accompanied by heat, point to further like con-

TfTE TRANSFORMATION AND EQUIVALENCE OP FORCES. 201

nexions. Lastly, various experiments show that the mag-
netization of a body alters its internal structure ; and that
conversely, the alteration of its internal structure, as by
mechanical strain, alters its magnetic condition.

Improbable as it seemed, it is now proved that from Light
also may proceed the like variety of agencies. The solar rays
change the atomic arrangements of particular crystals.
Certain mixed gases, which do not otherwise combine, com-
bine in the sunshine. In some compounds Light pro-
duces decomposition. Since the inquii-ies of photographers
have drawn attention to the subject, it has been shown that
"a vast number of substances, both elementary and com-
pound, are notably affected by this agent, even those ap-
parently the most unalterable in character, such as metals/*
And when a daguerreotype plate is connected with a proper
apparatus " we get chemical action on the plate, electricity
circulating through the wires, magnetism in the coil, heat in
the helix, and motion in the needles."

The genesis of all other modes of force from Chemical
Action, scarcely needs pointing out. The ordinary accom-
paniment of chemical combination is heat ; and when the
affinities are intense, light also is, under fit conditions, pro-
duced. Chemical changes involving alteration of bulk, cause
motion, both in the combining elements and in adjacent
masses of matter : witness the propulsion of a bullet by the
explosion of gun-powder. In the galvanic battery we see
electricity resulting from chemical composition and decom-
position. While through the medium of this electricity.
Chemical Action produces magnetism.

These facts, the larger part of which are culled from Mr.
Grove's work on " The Correlation of Physical Forces," show
us that each force is transformable, directly or indirectly,
into the others. In every change Force undergoes meta-
morphosis ; and from the new form or forms it assumes, may
subsequently result either the previous one or any of the
rest, in endless variety of order and combination. It ia

202 THE TRANSFORMATION AND EQUIVALENCE OP FORCES.

further becoming manifest that the physical forces stand not
simply in qualitative correlations with each other, but also in
quantitative correlations. Besides proving that one mode of
force may be transformed into another mode, experiments
illustrate the truth that from a definite amount of one, defi-
lute amounts bf others always arise. Ordinarily it is in-
deed difficult to show this ; since it mostly happens that the
transfoi-mation of any force is not into some one of the rest
but into several of them : the proportions being determined
by the ever-varying conditions. But in certain cases, posi-
tive results have been reached. Mr. Joule has ascertained
that the fall of 772 lbs. through one foot, will raise the
temperature of a pound of water one degree of Fahrenheit.
The investigations of Dulong, Petit and Neumann, have
proved a relation in amount between the affinities of combin-
ing bodies and the heat evolved during their combination. Be-
tween chemical action and voltaic electricity, a quantitative
connexion has also been established : Faraday's experiments
implying that a specific measure of electricity is disengaged
by a given measure of chemical action. The well-determined
relations between the quantities of heat generated and water
turned into steam, or stiU better the known expansion pro-
duced in steam by each additional degree of heat, may be
cited in further evidence. Whence it is no longer doubted
that among the several forms which force assumes, the
quantitative relations are fixed. The conclusion tacitly
agreed on by physicists, is, not only that the physical forces
undergo metamorphoses, but that a certain amount of each is
the constant equivalent of certain amounts of the others.

§ 67. Everywhere throughout the Cosmos this truth must
invariably hold. Every successive change, or group of
changes, going on in it, must be due to forces affiliable on
the like or unlike forces previously existing ; while from the
forces exhibited in such change or changes must be derived
others more or less transformed. And besides recognizing

THE TRANSFORMATION AND EQUIVALENCE OP FORCES. 203

fcliis necessary linking of tlio forces at any time manifested,
with those preceding and succeeding them, we must
recognize the amounts of these forces as determinate — as
necessarily producing such and such quantities of results,
and as necessarily limited to those quantities.

That unification of knowledge which is the business of
Philosophy, is but little furthered by the establishment of
this truth under its general form. We must trace it out
under its leading special forms. Changes, and the accom-
panying transformations of forces, are everywhere in pro-
gress, from the movements of stars to the currents of our
thoughts; and to comprehend, in any adequate way, the
meaning of the great fact that forces, unceasingly metamor-
phosed, are nowhere increased or decreased, it is requisite
for us to contemplate the various orders of changes going on
around, for the purpose of ascertaining whence arise the
forces they imply and what becomes of these forces. Of
course if answerable at all, these questions can be answered
only in the rudest way. We cannot hope to establish
equivalence among the successive manifestations of force.
The most we can hope is to establish a qualitative correla-
tion that is indefinitely quantitative — quantitative to the
extent of involving something like a due proportion between
causes and effects.

Let us, with the view of trying to do this, consider in
succession the several classes of phenomena which the several
concrete sciences deal with.

§ 68. The antecedents of those forces which our Solar
System displays, belong to a past of which we can never have
anything but inferential knowledge ; and at present wo cannot
be said to have even this. Numerous and strong as are the
reasons for believing the Nebular Hypothesis, we cannot yet
regard it as more than an hypothesis. If, ho\vever, we
assume that the matter composing the Solar System once
existed in a diffused state, we have, in the gravitation of itfi

204 THE TRANSFORMATION AND EQUIVALENCE OF FORCES.

parts, a force adequate to produce tlie motix)ns now going
on.

Masses of precipitated nebulous matter, moving towards
tlieir common centre of gravity tlirougli tlie resisting medium
from wliicli they were precipitated, will inevitably cause a
general rotation, increasing in rapidity as tlie concentration
progresses. So far as the evidence carries us, we perceive
some quantitative relation between the motions so generated
and the gravitative forces expended in generating them.
The planets formed from that matter which has travelled the
shortest distance towards the common centre of gravity,
have the smallest velocities. Doubtless this is explicable on
the teleological hypothesis ; since it is a condition to equi-
librium. But without insisting that this is beside the ques-
tion, it will suffice to point out that the like cannot be said
of the planetary rotations. No such final cause can be
assigned for the rapid axial movenient of Jupiter and Saturn,
or the slow axial movement of Mercury. If, however, in
pursuance of the doctrine of transformation, we look for the
antecedents of these gyrations which all planets exhibit, the
nebular hypothesis furnishes us with antecedents which bear
manifest quantitative relations to the motions displayed.
For the planets that turn on their axes with extreme
rapidity, are those having great masses and large orbits —
those, that is, of which the once diffused elements moved to
their centres of gravity through immense spaces, and so
acquired high velocities. "While, conversely, the planets
which rotate with the smallest velocities, are those formed
out of the smallest nebulous rings — a relation still better
shown by satellites.

'^ But what,^' it may bo asked, " has in such case become
of all that motion which brought about the aggregation oi
this diffused matter into solid bodies ? " The answer is that
it has been radiated in the form of heat and light ; and this
answer the evidence, so far as it goes, confirms. Geologists
conclude that the heat of the Earth's still molten nucleus is

THE TRANSFORMATION AND EQUIVALENCE OF FORCES. 205

bat a remnant of tlie lieat wliicli once made molten the
entire Earth. The mountainous surfaces of the Moon and
of Yenus (which alone are near enough to be scrutinized),
indicating, as they do^ crusts that have, hke our own, been
corrugated by contraction, imply that these bodies too have
undergone refrigeration. Lastly, we have in the Sun a still-
continued production of this heat and light, which must
result from the arrest of diffused matter moving towards a
common centre of gravity. Here also, as before, a

quantitative relation is traceable. Among the bodies which
make up the Solar System, those containing comparatively
small amounts of matter whose centripetal motion has been
destroyed, have abeady lost nearly all the produced heat : a
result which their relatively larger surfaces have facilitated.
But the Sun, a thousand times as great in mass as the
largest planet, and having therefore to give off an enormously
greater quantity of heat and light due to arrest of moving
matter, is still radiating with great intensity.

§ GS. If we inquire the origin of those forces which have
vrrought the surface of our planet into its present shape, vfQ
find them traceable to the primordial source just assigned.
Assuming the solar system to have arisen as above supposed,
then geologic changes are either direct or indirect results
of the unexpended heat caused by nebular condensation.
These changes are commonly divided into igneous and
aqueous — ^heads under which we may most conveniently
consider them.

All those periodic disturbances which we call earthquakes,
all those elevations and subsidences ?rhich they severally
produce, all those accumulated effects of many such eleva-
tions and subsidences exhibited in ocean-basins, islands, con-
tinents, table-lands, mountain -chains, and all those forma-
tions which are distinguished as volcanic, geologists now
regard as modifications of the Earth's crust produced by the
still-molten matter occupying its interior. However unten-

20G THE IRANSFOEMATION AND EQUIVALENCE OP FOECES.

able may be the details of M. Elie de Beaumont's theory,
there is good reason to accept the general proposition that
the disruptions and variations of level which take place at
intervals on the terrestrial surface, are due to the progressive
collapse of the Earth's solid envelope upon its cooling and
contracting nucleus. Even supposing that volcanic erup-
tions, extrusions of igneous rock, and upheaved mountain-
chains, could be otherwise satisfactorily accounted for, which
they cannot ; it would be impossible otherwise to account for
those wide-spread elevations and depressions whence conti-
nents and oceans result. The conclusion to be drawn is,
then, that the forces displayed in these so-called igneous
changes, are derived positively or negatively from the unex-
pended heat of the Earth's interior. Such phenomena as the
fusion or agglutination of sedimentary deposits, the warming
of springs, the sublimation of metals into the fissures where
we find them as ores, may be regarded as positive results of
this residuary heat ; while fractures of strata and alterations
of level are its negative results, since they ensue on its escape.
The original cause of all these efifects is still, however, as it
has been from the first, the gravitating movement of the
Earth's matter towards the Earth's centre ; seeing that to
this is due both the internal heat itself and the collapse
which takes place as it is radiated into space.

When we inquire under what forms previously existed the
force which works out the geological changes classed as
aqueous, the answer is less obvious. The efiects of rain, of
rivers, of winds, of waves, of marine currents, do not mani-
festly proceed from one general source. Analysis, neverthe-
less, proves to us that they have a common genesis. If we
ask, — Whence comes the power of the river-current, bearing
sediment down to the sea ? the reply is, — The gravitation of
water throughout the tract which this river drains. If wo
ask, — How came the water to be dispersed over this tract ? the
reply is, — It fell in the shape of rain. If we ask, — How came
the rain to be in that position, whence it fell ? the reply k,

THE TRANSITOEMATION AND EQUIVALENCE OF FORCES. 207

—The vapour from whicli it was condensed was drifted there
by the winds. If we ask, — How came this vapour to be at
that elevation ? the reply is, — It was raised by evaporation.
And if we ask, — "What force thus raised it ? the reply is, —
The sun's heat. Just that amount of gravitative force which
the sun's heat overcame in raising the atoms of water, is
given out again in the fall of those atoms to the same level.
FEence the denudations effected by rain and rivers, during
the descent of this condensed vapour to the level of the sea,
are indirectly due to the sun's heat. Similarly with the
winds that transport the vapours hither and thither. Con-
sequent as atmospheric currents are on differences of tempera-
ture (either general, as between the equatorial and polar
regions, or special as between tracts of the Earth's surface of
unlike physical characters) all such currents are due to that
source from which the varying quantities of heat proceed.
And if the winds thus originate, so too do the waves raised
by them on the sea's surface. Whence it follows that what-
ever changes waves produce — the wearing away of shores,
the breaking down of rocks into shingle, sand, and mud —
are also traceable to the solar rays as their primary cause.
The same may be said of ocean-currents. Generated as the
larger ones are by the excess of heat which the ocean in
tropical climates continually acquires from the Sun ; and
generated as the smaller ones are by minor local differences
in the quantities of solar heat absorbed ; it follows that the
distribution of sediment and other geological processes which
these marine currents effect, are affiliable upon the force
which the sun radiates. The only aqueous agency otherwise
originating is that of the tides — an agency which, equally witli
the others, is traceable to unexpended astronomical motion.
But making allowance for the changes which this works, we
reach the conclusion that the slow wearing down of conti-
nents and gradual filling up of seas, by rain, rivers, winds,
waves, and ocean- streams, are the indirect effects of solar
heat.

208 THE TRANSFORMATION AND EQUIVALENCE OF FORCES.

Thus the inference forced on us by tlie doctrine of trans-
formation, that the forces which have moulded and re-
moulded the Earth's crust must have pre-existed under some
other shape, presents no difficulty if nebular genesis be
granted ; since this pre-supposes certain forces that are both
adequate to the results, and cannot be expended without pro-
ducing the results. We see that while the geological changes
classed as igneous, arise from the still-progressing motion of
the Earth's substance to its centre of gravity; the antagonistic
changes classed as aqueous, arise fi^om the still-progressing
motion of the Sun's substance towards its centre of gravity —
a motion which, transformed into heat and radiated to us, is
here re-transformed, directly into motions of the gaseous and
liquid matters on the Earth's surface, and indirectly into
motions of the solid matters.

§ 70. That the forces exhibited in vital actions, vegetal
and animal, are similarly derived, is so obvious a deduction
from the facts of organic chemistry, that it will meet with
ready acceptance from readers acquainted with these facts.
Let us note first the physiological generalizations ; and then
the generalizations which they necessitate.

Plant-life is all directly or indirectly dependent on the
heat and light of the sun— directly dependent in the im-
mense majority of plants, and indirectly dependent in plants
which, as the fungi, flourish in the dark : since these, growing
as they do at the expense of decaying organic matter, medi-
ately draw their forces from the same original source. Each
plant owes the carbon and hydrogen of which it mainly con-
sists, to the carbonic acid and water contained in the surround-
ing air and earth. The carbonic acid and water must, how-
ever, be decomposed before their carbon and hydrogen can
be assimilated. To overcome the powerful affinities which
nold their elements together, requires the expenditure of
force; and this force is supplied by the Sun. In what
manner the decomposition is efiected we do Hot know. But

THE TEANSFOEMATION AND EQUIYALENCE OP FORCES. 2Q\)

\re know tliat wiien, under fit conditions, plants are exposed
to the Sun's rays, they give off oxygen and accumulate carbon
and hydrogen. In darkness this process ceases. It ceases
too when the quantities of light and heat received are greatly
reduced, as in winter. Conversely, it is active when the light
and heat are great, as in summer. And the like relation is
seen in the fact that while plant-life is luxui-iant in the
tropics, it diminishes in temperate regions, and disappears as
we approach the poles. Thus the irresistible inference is,
that the forces by which plants abstract the materials of their
tissues from surrounding inorganic compounds — the forces by
which they grow and carry on their functions, are forces that
previously existed as solar radiations.

That animal life is immediately or mediately dependent on
vegetal life is a familiar truth ; and that, in the main, the
processes of animal life are opposite to those of vegetal life is a
truth long current among men of science. Chemically con-
sidered, vegetal life is chiefly a process of de-oxidation, and
animal life chiefly a process of oxidation: chiefly, we must
say, because in so far as plants are expenders of force for the
purposes of organization, they are oxidizers (as is shovm by
the exhalation of carbonic acid during the night) ; and ani-
mals, in some of their minor processes, are probably de-oxi-
dizers. But with this qualification, the general truth is
that while the plant, decomposing carbonic acid and water
and liberating oxygen, builds up the detained carbon and
hydrogen (along with a little nitrogen and small quanti-
ties of other elements elsewhere obtained) into branches,
leaves, and seeds; the animal, consuming these branches,
leaves, and seeds, and absorbing oxygen, recomposes car-
bonic acid and water, together with certain nitrogenous
compounds in minor amounts. And while the decom-
position effected by the plant, is at the expense of cer-
tain forces emanating from the sun, which are employed
in overcoming the affinities of carbon and hydrogen for the
oxygen united with them ; the re-composition effected by the

210 THE TEANSFOEMATION AND EQUIVALENCE OP FORCES.

animal, is at the profit of these forces, whicli are liberated
during the combination of such elements. Thus the move-
ments, internal and external, of the animal, are re- appear-
ances in new forms of a power absorbed by the plant imder
the shape of light and heat. Just as, in the manner
above explained, the solar forces expended in raising vapour
from the sea's surface, are given out again in the fall of rain
and rivers to the same level, and in the accompanying trans-
fer of solid matters ; so, the solar forces that in the plant
raised certain chemical elements to a condition of unstable
equilibrium, are given out again in the actions of the animal
during the fall of these elements to a condition of stable
equilibrium.

Besides thus tracing a qualitative correlation between these
two great orders of organic activity, as well as between both
of them and inorganic agencies, we may rudely trace a
quantitative correlation. Where vegetal life is abundant, we
usually find abundant animal life ; and as we advance from
torrid to temperate and frigid climates, the two decrease to-
gether. Speaking generally, the animals of each class reach
a larger size in regions where vegetation is abundant, than
in those where it is sparse. And further, there is a tolerably
apparent connexion between the quantity of energy which
each species of animal expends, and the quantity of force
which the nutriment it absorbs gives out during oxidation.

Certain phenomena of development in both plants and
animals, illustrate still more directly the ultimate trutli
enunciated. Pursuing the suggestion made by Mr. Grove,
in the first edition of his work on the " Correlation of the
Physical Forces," that a connexion probably exists between
the forces classed as vital and those classed as physical.
Dr. Carpenter has pointed out that such a connexion is
clearly exhibited during incubation. The transformation of
the unorganized contents of an egg into the organized chick,
is altogether a question of heat : withhold heat and the process
does not commence ; supply heat and it goes on while the

THE TEANSFORMATION AND EQUIVALENCE OF FORCES. 211

temperature is maintained, but ceases wlien the egg is allowed
to cool. The developmental changes can be completed only
Dy keeping the temperature with tolerable constancy at a
definite height for a definite time ; that is — only by supply-
ing a definite quantity of heat. In the metamorphoses of
insects we may discern parallel facts. Experiments show
not only that the hatching of their eggs is determined by
temperature, but also that the evolution of the pupa into the
imago is similarly determined ; and may be immensely ac-
celerated or retarded according as heat is artificially supplied
or withheld. It will suffice just to add that the germination of
plants presents like relations of cause and efiect — relations so
similar that detail is superfluous.

Thus then the various changes exhibited to us by the
organic creation, whether considered as a whole, or in its two
great divisions, or in its individual members, conform, so far
as we can ascertain, to the general principle. Where, as in
the transformation of an egg into a chick, we can investigate
the phenomena apart from all complications, we find that the
force manifested in the process of organisation, involves
expenditure of a pre-existing force. "Where it is not, as
in the egg or the chrysalis, merely the change of a fixed
quantity of matter into a new shape, but where, as in the
growing plant or animal, we have an incorporation of matter
existing outside, there is still a pre-existing external force
at the cost of which this incorporation is efiected. And
where, as in the higher division of organisms, there re-
main over and above the forces expended in organization,
certain surplus forces expended in movement, these too are
indirectly derived from this same pre-existing external force.

§ 71. Even after all that has been said in the foregoing
part of this work, many will be alarmed by the assertion,
that the forces which we distinguish as mental, come within
the same generalization. Yet there is no alternative but to
make this assertion : the facts which justify, or rather which

212 THE TEANSFORMATION AND EQUIVALENCE OP FORCES.

necessitate it, being abundant and conspicuous. Tbey fall
into the following groups.

All impressions from moment to moment made on our
organs of sense, stand in direct correlation witb pbysical
forces existing externally. The modes of consciousness called
pressure, motion, sound, light, beat, are effects produced in
us by agencies which, as otherwise expended, crush or fracture
pieces of matter, generate yibrations in surrounding objects,
cause chemical combinations, and reduce substances from a
solid to a liquid form. Hence if we regard the changes of
relative position, of aggregation, or of chemical state, thus
arising, as being transformed manifestations of the agencies
from which they arise ; so must we regard the sensations
which such agencies produce in us, as new forms of the forces
producing them. Any hesitation to admit that, be-

tween the phj^sical forces and the sensations there exists a
correlation like that between the physical forces themselves,
must disappear on remembering how the one correlation, like
the other, is not qualitative only but quantitative. Masses
of matter which, by scales or dynamometer, are shown to
differ greatly in weight, differ as greatly in the feeKngs of
pressure they produce on our bodies. In arresting moving
objects, the strains we are conscious of are proportionate to
the momenta of such objects as otherwise measured. Under
like conditions the impressions of sounds given to us by
vibrating strings, bells, or columns of air, are found to vary
in strength with the amount of force applied. Fluids or
solids proved to be markedly contrasted in temperature by
the different degrees of expansion they produce in the
mercurial column, produce in us correspondingly different
degrees of the sensation of heat. And similarly unlike in-
tensities in our impressions of light, answer to unlike effects
as measured by photometers.

Besides the correlation and equivalence between external
physical forces, and the mental forces generated by them in
us under the form of sensations, there is a correlation and

THE TRANSFORMATION AND EQUIVALENCE OP FORCES. 213

equivalence between sensations and those physical forces
which, in the shape of bodily actions, result from them. The
feelings we distinguish as light, heat, sound, odour, taste,
pressure, &c., do not die away without immediate results ;
but are invariably followed by other manifestations of force.
In addition to the excitements of secreting organs, that are
in some cases traceable, there arises a contraction of the in-
voluntary muscles, or of the voluntary muscles, or of both.
Sensations increase the action of the heart — slightly when
they are slight ; markedly when they are marked ; and recent
physiological inquiries imply not only that contraction of the
heart is excited by every sensation, but also that the muscular
fibres throughout the whole vascular system, are at the same
time more or less contracted. The respiratory muscles, too,
are stimulated into greater activity by sensations. The rate
of breathing is visibly and audibly augmented both by plea-
surable and painful impressions on the nerves, when these
reach any intensity. It has even of late been shown that
inspiration becomes more frequent on transition from dark-
ness into sunshine, — a result probably due to the increased
amount of direct and indirect nervous stimulation involved.
When the quantity of sensation is great, it generates con-
tractions of the voluntary muscles, as well as of the involun-
tary ones. Unusual excitement of the nerves of touch, as by
tickling, is followed by almost incontrollable movements of
the limbs. Violent pains cause violent struggles. The
start that succeeds a loud sound, the wry face produced by
the taste of anything extremely disagreeable, the jerk with
which the hand or foot is snatched out of water that is very
hot, are instances of the transformation of feeling into
motion ; and in these cases, as in all others, it is manifest
that the quantity of bodily action is proportionate to the
quantity of sensation. Even where from pride there is a
suppression of the screams and groans expressive of great
pain (also indirect results of muscular contraction), we may
still see in the clenching of the hands, the knitting of the

214 THE TRANSFORMATION AND EQUIVALENCE OF FORCES.

brows, and the setting of tlie teeth, that the bodily actione
developed are as great, though less obtrusive in their re-
sults. If we take emotions instead of sensations, we
find the correlation and equivalence -equally manifest. Not
only are the modes of consciousness directly produced in us
by physical forces, re- transform able into physical forces under
the form of muscular motions and the changes they initiate ;
but the like is true of those modes of consciousness which are
not directly produced in us by the physical forces. Emotions
of moderate intensity, like sensations of moderate intensity,
generate little beyond excitement of the heart and vascular
system, joined sometimes with increased action of glandular
organs. But as the emotions rise in strength, the muscles of
the face, body, and limbs, begin to move. Of examples may
be mentioned the frowns, dilated nostrils, and stampings of
anger ; the contracted brows, and wrung hands, of grief ; the
smiles and leaps of joy ; and the frantic struggle3 of terror or
despair. Passing over certain apparent, but only apparent,
exceptions, we see that whatever be the kind of emotion,
there is a manifest relation between its amount, and the
amount of muscular action induced : alike from the erect
carriage and elastic step of exhilaration, up to the dancings
of immense delight, and from the fidgettiness of impatience
up to the almost convulsive movements accompanjdng great
mental agony. To these several orders of evidence
must be joined the further one, that between our feelings and
those voluntary motions into which they are transformed,
there comes the sensation of muscular tension, standing in
manifest correlation with both — a correlation that is dis-
tinctly quantitative : the sense of strain varying, other
things equal, directly as the quantity of momentum
generated.

"But how," it may be asked, "can we interpret by the
law of correlation the genesis of those thoughts and feelings
which, instead of following external ctimuli, arise spontaneous-
ly ? Between the indignation caused by an insult, and the

THE TRANSFORMATION AND EQUIVALENCE OF FORCES. 215

loud sounds or violent acts that follow, the alleged connexion
may hold ; but whence come the crowd of ideas and the mass
of feelings that expend tliemselves in these demonstrations ?
They are clearly not equivalents of the sensations produced
by the words on the ears ; for the same words otherwise
arranged, would not have caused them. The thing said
bears to the mental action it excites, much the same relation
that the puUing of a trigger bears to the subsequent explo-
sion— does not produce the power, but merely liberates it.
Whence then arises this immense amount of nervous energy
which a whisper or a glance may call forth?'* The

reply is, that the immediate correlates of these and other such
modes of consciousness, are not to be found in the agencies
acting on us externally, but in certain internal agencies.
The forces called vital, which we have seen to be correlates
of the forces called physical, are the immediate sources of
these thoughts and feelings ; and are expended in producing
them. The proofs of this are various. Here are some of
them. It is a conspicuous fact that mental action is

contingent on the presence of a certain nervous apparatus ;
and. that, greatly obscured as it is by numerous and involved
conditions, a general relation may be traced between the size
of this apparatus and the quantity of mental action as measur-
ed by its results. Further, this apparatus has a particular
chemical constitution on which its activity depends ; and
there is one element in it between the amount of which and
the amount of function performed, there is an ascertained
connexion : the proportion of phosphorus present in the brain
being the smallest in infancy, old age and idiotcy, and the
greatest during the prime of life. Note next, that

the evolution of thought and emotion varies, other things
equal, with the supply of blood to the brain. On the one
hand, a cessation of the cerebral circulation, from arrest of
the heart's action, immediately entails unconsciousness. On
the other hand, excess of cerebral circulation (unless it is
such as to cause undue pressure) results in an excitement

216 THE TEANSFORMATION AND EQUIVALENCE OF FOKCSS.

rising finally to delirium. Not tlie quantity onh^,

but also the condition of tlie blood passing through the
nervous system, influences the mental manifestations. The
arterial currents must be duly aerated, to produce the normal
amount of cerebration. At the one extreme, we find that if
the blood is not allowed to exchange its carbonic acid for
oxygen, there results asphyxia, with its accompanying stop-
page of ideas and feelings. While at the other extreme, we
find that by the inspiration of nitrous oxide, there is pro-
duced an excessive, and indeed irrepressible, nervous ac-
tivity. Besides the connexion between the develop-
ment of the mental forces and the presence of sufficient
oxygen in the cerebral arteries, there is a kindred connexion
between the development of the mental forces and the pre-
sence in the cerebral arteries of certain other elements.
There must be supplied special materials for the nutrition of
the nervous centres, as well as for their oxidation. And how
what we may call the quantity of consciousness, is, other things
equal, determined by the constituents of the blood, is unmis-
takeably seen in the exaltation that follows when certain
chemical compounds,, as alcohol and the vegeto-alkalies, are
added to it. The gentle exhilaration which tea and cofiee
create, is familiar to all ; and though the gorgeous imagina-
tions and intense feelings of happiness produced by opium
and hashish, have been experienced by few, (in this country
at least,) the testimony of those who have experienced them
is sufficiently conclusive. Yet another proof that the
genesis of the mental energies is immediately dependent on
chemical change, is afforded by the fact, that the effete pro-
ducts separated from the blood by the kidneys, vary in cha-
racter with the amount of cerebral action. Excessive activity
of mind is habitually accompanied by the excretion of an un-
usual quantity of the alkaliae phosphates. Conditions of
abnormal nervous excitement bring on analogous effects.
And the " peculiar odour of the insane," implying as it does
morbid products in the perspiration, shows a connexion bo-

THE TEANSPORMATION AlTD EQUIVALENCE OF F0ECE3. 217

tween insanity and a special composition of the circulating
fluids — a composition which, whether regarded as cause or
consequence, equally implies correlation of the mental and
the physical forces. Lastly we have to note that this

correlation too, is, so far as we can trace it, quantitative.
Provided the conditions to nervous action are not infringed
on, and the concomitants are the same, there is a tolerably
constant ratio between the amounts of the antecedents and
consequents. "Within the implied limits, nervous stimulants
and anaesthetics produce effects on the thoughts and feel-
ings, proportionate to the quantities administered. And
conversely, where the thoughts and feelings form the initial
term of the relation, the degree of reaction on the bodily
energies is great, in proportion as they are great : reaching
in extreme cases a total prostration of physique.

Various classes of facts thus unite to prove that the law of
metamorphosis, which holds among the physical forces,
holds equally between them and the mental forces.
Those modes of the Unknowable which we call mo-
tion, heat, light, chemical affinity, &c., are alike trans-
formable into each other, and into those modes of the
Unknowable which we distinguish as sensation, emotion,
thought : these, in their turns, being directly or indirectly
re-transformable into the original shapes. That no idea or
feeling arises, save as a result of some physical force expended
in producing it, is fast becoming a common place of science ;
and whoever duly weighs the evidence will see, that nothing
but an overwhelming bias in favour of a pre- conceived
theory, can explain its non-acceptance. How this

metamorphosis takes place — how a force existing as motion,
heat, or light, can become a mode of consciousness — how it is
possible for aerial vibrations to generate the sensation we call
Bound, or for the forces liberated by chemical changes in the
brain to give rise to emotion — these are mysteries which it is
impossible to fathom. But they are not profounder mysteries
than the transformations of the physical forces into each other.

218 THE TRANSFORMATION AND EQUIVALENCE OF FORCES.

They are not more completely beyond our comprehension
than the natures of Mind and Matter. They have simply the
same insolubility as all other ultimate questions. We can
learn nothing more than that here is one of the uniformities
in the order of phenomena.

§ 72. If the generallaw of transformation and equivalence
holds of the forces we class as vital and mental, it must hold
also of those which we class as social. Whatever takes place
in a society is due to organic or inorganic agencies, or to
a combination of the two — results either from the undirected
physical forces around, from these physical forces as directed
by men, or from the forces of the men themselves. No
change can occur in its organization, its modes of activity, or
the effects it produces on the face of the Earth, but what
proceeds, mediately or immediately, from these. Let us con-
sider first the correlation between the phenomena which
societies display, and the vital phenomena.

Social power and life varies, other things equal, with the
population. Though different races, differing widely in their
fitness for combination, show us that the forces manifested in
a society are not necessarily proportionate to the number of
people ; yet we see that under given conditions, the forces
manifested are confined within the limits which the number
of people imposes. A small society, no matter how superior
the character of its members, cannot exhibit the same
quantity of social action as a large one. The production and
distribution of commodities must be on a comparatively small
scale. A multitudinous press, a prolific literature, or a
massive political agitation, is not possible. And there can
be but a small total of results in the shape of art-products
and scientific discoveries. The correlation of the

social with the physical forces through the intermediation of
the vital ones, is, however, most clearly shown in the diffcrejit
amounts of activity displayed by the same society according
as its members are supplied with different amounts of force

THE TRANSFORMATION AND EQUIVALENCE OF FORCES. 219

from the external -woTld. In tlie effects of good and bad
harvests, we yearly see this relation illustrated. A greatly
deficient yield of wheat is soon followed by a diminution of
business. Factories are worked half-time, or close entirely ;
railway traffic falls ; retailers find their sales much lessened ;
houso-building is almost suspended ; and if the scarcity
rises to famine, a thinning of the population still more
diminishes the industrial vivacity. Conversely, an unusually
abundant harvest, occurring under conditions not otherwise
unfavourable, both excites the old producing and distributing
agencies and sets up new ones. The surplus social energy
finds vent in speculative enterprises. Capital seeking in-
vestment carries out inventions that have been lying unutil-
ized. Labour is expended in opening new channels of com-
munication. There is increased encouragement to those who
furnish the luxuries of life and minister to the esthetic
faculties. There are more marriages, and a greater rate of
increase in population. Thus the social organism grows
larger, more complex, and more active. When, as

happens with most civilized nations, the whole of the ma-
terials for subsistence are not drawn from the area inhabited,
but are partly imported, the people are still supported by
certain harvests elsewhere grown at the expense of certain
physical forces. Our own cotton- spinners and weavers supply
the most conspicuous instance of a section in one nation liv-
ing, in great part, on imported commodities, purchased by the
labour they expend on other imported commodities. But
though the social activities of Lancashire are due chiefly to
materials not drawn from our own soil, they are none the less
evolved from physical forces elsewhere stored up in fit forms
and then brought here.

If we ask whence- come these physical forces from which,
through the intermediation of the vital forces, the social
forces arise, the reply is of course as heretofore — the solar
radiations. Based as the life of a society is on animal and
vegetal products ; and dependent as these animal and vegetal

!0 THE TEANSFORMATION AND EQUIVALENCE OP F0TICE3.

products are on the light and heat of the sun ; it follows that
the changes going on in societies are effects of forces having
a common origin with those which produce all the other
orders of changes that have been analyzed. Not only is the
force expended by the horse harnessed to the plough, and by
the labourer guiding it, derived from the same reservoir
as is the force of the fallino^ cataract and the roarina: hurri-
cane ; but to this same reservoir are eventually traceable those
subtler and more complex manifestations of force which
humanity, as socially embodied, evolves. The assertion is a
startling one, and by many will be thought ludicrous ; but it
is an unavoidable deduction which cannot here be passed over.
Of the physical forces that are directly transformed into
social ones, the like is to be said. Currents of air and water,
which before the use of steam were the only agencies brought
in aid of muscular effort for the performance of industrial
processes, are, as we have seen, generated by the *heat of the
sun. And the inanimate power that now, to so vast an
extent, supplements human labour, is similarly derived. The
late George Stephenson was one of the first to recognize the
fact that the force impelling his locomotive, originally eman-
ated from the sun. Step by step we go back — from the mo-
tion of the piston to the evaporation of the water ; thence to
the heat evolved during the oxidation of coal ; thence to the
assimilation of carbon by the plants of whose imbedded re-
mains coal consists ; thence to the carbonic acid from which
their carbon was obtained; and thence to the rays of light
that de-oxidized this carbonic acid. Solar forces millions of
years ago expended on the Earth's vegetation, and sinco
iocked up beneath its surface, now smelt the metals required
^br our machines, turn the lathes by which the machines are
Bhaped, work them when put together, and distribute the
fabrics they produce. And in so far as economy of labour
makes possible the support of a larger population ; gives a
surplus of human power that would else be absorbed in
manual occupations ; and it facilitates the development of

THE TRAIhSFORMATION AND EQUIVALENCE OF FORCES. 221

higher kinds of activity ; it is clear that these social forces
which are directly correlated with physical forces anciently
derived from the sun, are only less important than those
whose correlates are the vital forces recently derived from it.

§ 73. Eegarded as an induction, the doctrine set forth in
this chapter will most likely he met by a demurrer. Many
who admit that among physical phenomena at least, trans-
formation of forces is now established, will probably say that
inquiry has not yet gone far enough to enable us to predicate
equivalence. And in respect of the forces classed as vital,
mental, and social, the evidence assigned, however little to be
explained away, they will consider by no means conclusive
even of transformation, much less of equivalence.

To those who think thus, it must now however be pointed
out, that the universal truth above illustrated under its various
aspects, is a necessary corollary from the persistence of force.
Setting out with the proposition that force can neither come
into existence, nor cease to exist, the several foregoing
general conclusions inevitably follow. Each manifestation of
force can be interpreted only as the effect of some antecedent
force : no matter whether it be an inorganic action, an
animal movement, a thought, or a feeling. Either this must
be conceded, or else it must be asserted that our successive
states of consciousness are self- created. Either mental
energies, as well as bodily ones, are quantitatively correlated
to certain energies expended in their production, and to
certain other energies which they initiate ; or else nothing
must become something and something must become nothing
The alternatives are, to deny the persistence of force, or to
admit that every physical and psychial change is generated
by certain antecedent forces, and that from given amounts of
such forces neither more nor less of such physical and psychial
changes can result. And since the persistence of force, being a
datum of consciousness, cannot be denied, its unavoidable corol-
lary must be accepted. This corollary cannot indeed be

222 THE TRANSFORMATION AND EQUIVALENCE OP FORCES.

made more certain by accumulating illustrations. The truth as
arrived at deductively, cannot be inductively confirmed. For
every one of sucb facts as tbose above detailed, is establisbed
only tbrough. the indirect assumption of that persistence of
force, from which it really follows as a direct consequence.
The most exact proof of correlation and equivalence which it
is possible to reach by experimental inquiry, is that based on
measurement of the forces expended and the forces produced.
But, as was shown in the last chapter, any such process of
measurement implies the use of some unit of force which is
assumed to remain constant ; and for this assumption there
can be no warrant but that it is a corollary from the persist-
ence of force. How then can any reasoning based on this
corollary, prove the equally direct corollary that when a given
quantity of force ceases to exist under one form, an equal
quantity must come into existence under some other form or
forms ? Clearly the a priori truth expressed in this last
corollary, cannot be more firmly established by any a pos-
teriori proofs which the first corollary helps us to.

" What then,'' it may be asked, " is the use of these investi-
gations by w^hich transformation and equivalence of forces is
sought to be established as an inductive truth? Surely it
will not be alleged that they are useless. Yet if the corre-
lation cannot be made more certain by them than it is already,
does not their uselessness necessarily follow ?" No. They are
of value as disclosing the many particular implications which
the general truth does not specify. They are of value as
teaching us how much of one mode of force is the equivalent
of so much of another mode. They are of value as determin-
ing under what conditions each metamorphosis occurs. And
they are of value as leading us to inquire in what shape
the remnant of force has escaped, when the apparent results
are not equivalent to the cause.

CHAPTER IX.

THE DIRECTION OF MOTION.

§ 74. The Absolute Cause of clianges, no matter what may
be tlieir special natures, is not less incompreliensiblc in respect
of the unity or duality of its action, than in all otber respects.
^ye cannot decide between the alternative suppositions, that
phenomena are due to the variously- conditioned workings of a
single force, and that they are due to the conflict of two forces.
Whether, as some contend, everything is explicable on the
hypothesis of universal pressure, whence what we call tension
results differentially from inequalities of pressure in opposite
directions ; or whether, as might be with equal propriety con-
tended, things are to be explained on the hypothesis of uni-
versal tension, from which pressure is a differential result ; or
whether, as most physicists hold, pressure and tension every-
where co-exist ; are questions which it is impossible to settle.
Each of these three suppositions makes the facts comprehen-
sible, only by postulating an inconceivability. To assume a
universal pressure, confessedly requires us to assume an
infinite plenum — an unlimited space full of something which
is everj^where pressed by something beyond ; and this
assumption cannot be mentally realized. That imiversal
tension is the immediate agency to which phenomena are
due, is an idea open to a parallel and equally fatal objection.
And however verbally intelligible may be the proposition that
pressure and tension everywhere co-exist, yet we cannot truly

224 THE DIRECTION OF MOTION.

represent to ourselves one ultimate unit of matter as drawing
another while resisting it.

Nevertheless, this last belief is one which we are compelled
to entertain. Matter cannot be conceived except as mani-
festing forces of attraction and repulsion. Body is dis-
tinguished in our consciousness from Space, by its opposition
to«our muscular energies ; and this opposition we feel imdcr
the twofold form of a cohesion that hinders our efforts to
rend, and a resistance that hinders our efforts to compress.
Without resistance there can be merely empty extension.
Without cohesion there can be no resistance. Probably this
conception of antagonistic forces, is originally derived from
the antagonism of our flexor and extensor muscles. But be
this as it may, we are obliged to think of all objects as made
up of parts that attract and repel each other ; since this is the
form of our experience of all objects.

By a higher abstraction results the conception of attractive
and repulsive forces pervading space. We cannot dissociate
force from occupied extension, or occupied extension from
force ; because we have never an immediate consciousness of
either in the absence of the other. Nevertheless, we have
abundant proof that force is exercised through what ap-
pears to our senses a vacuity. Mentally to represent this
exercise, we are hence obliged to fill the apparent vacuity
with a species of matter — an etherial medium. The consti-
tution we assign to this etherial medium, however, like the
constitution we assign to solid substance, is necessarily an
abstract of the impressions received from tangible bodies.
The opposition to pressure which a tangible body offers to us,
is not shown in one direction only, but in all directions ; and
so likewise is its tenacity. Suppose countless lines radiating
from its centre on every side, and it resists along each of these
lines and coheres along each of these lines. Hence the
constitution of those ultimate units through the instrumen-
tality of which phenomena are interpreted. Be they atoms
of ponderable matter or moleculcp of ether, the properties wo

THE DIRECTION OF MOTION. 225

conceive them to possess are notlimg else than these per-
ceptible properties idealized. Centres of force attracting and
repelling each other in all directions, are simply insensible
portions of matter haying the endowments common to sensi-
ble portions of matter — endowments of which we cannot by
any mental effort divest them. In brief, they are the in-
variable elements of the conception of matter, abstracted from
its variable elements — size, form, quality, &c. And so to
interpret manifestations of force which cannot be tactually
experienced, we use the terms of thought supplied by our
tactual experiences ; and this for the sufficient reason that we
must use these or none.

After all that has been before shown, and after the hint
given above, it needa scarcely be said that these universally
CO- existent forces of attriaction and repulsion, must not be
taken as realities, but as our symbols of the reality. They
are the forms under which the workings of the Unknowable
are cognizable by us — modes of the Unconditioned as pre-
sented under the conditions of our consciousness. But while
knowing that the ideas thus generated in us are not absolutely
true, we may unreservedly surrender ourselves to them as re-
latively true ; and may proceed to evolve a series of deduc-
tions having a like relative truth.

§ 75. From universally CO- existent forces of attraction and
repulsion, there result certain laws of direction of all move-
ment. Where attractive forces alone are concerned, or
rather are alone appreciable, movement takes place in the di-
rection of their resultant ; which may, in a sense, be called the
line of greatest traction. Where repulsive forces alone are
concerned, or rather are alone appreciable, movement takes
place along their resultant ; which is usually known as the lino
of least resistance. And where both attractive and repulsive
forces are concerned, or are appreciable, movement takes
place along the resultant of all the tractions and resistances.
Strictly speaking, this last is the sole law; since, by tlie

22G THE DIRECTION OF MOTION

hypotliesis, both forces are everywliere in action. But
very frequently the one kind of force is so immensely in
excess that the effect of the other kind may be' left out of
consideration. Practically we may say that a body falling
to the Earth, follows the line of greatest traction ; since,
though the resistance of the air must, if the body be irregular,
cause some divergence from this line, (quite perceptible with
feathers and leaves,) yet ordinarily the divergence is so slight
tliat we may omit it. In the same manner, though the course
taken by the steam from an exploding boiler, differs somewhat
from that which it would take were gravitation out of the ques-
tion ; yet, as gravitation affects its course infinitesimally, we are
justified in asserting that the escaping steam follows the line of
least resistance. Motion then, we may say, always follows the
line of greatest traction, or the line of least resistance, or the
resultant of the two : bearing in mind that though the last is
alone strictly true, the others are in many cases sufficiently
near the truth for practical purposes.

Movement set up in any direction is itself a cause of further
movement in that direction, since it is the embodiment of a
surplus force in that direction. This holds equally with the
transit of matter through space, the transit of matter through
matter, and the transit through matter of any kind of vibra-
tion. In the case of matter moving through space, this prin-
ciple is expressed in the law of inertia — a law on which the
calculations of physical astronomy are wholly based. In the
case of matter moving through matter, we trace the same
truth under the familiar experience that any breach made by
oiie solid through another, or any channel formed by a fluid
tlirough a solid, becomes a route along which, other things
equal, subsequent movements of like nature take place. And
in the case of motion passing through matter under the form
of an impulse communicated from part to part, the facts of
magnetization go to show that the establishment of imdula-
tions along certain lines, determines their continuance along
those lines.

TIIE DIRECnON OF MOTION. 227

It furtlier follows from the conditions, tliat the direction of
movement can rarely if ever be perfectly straight. For
matter in motion to pursue continuously the exact line in
which it sets out, the forces of attraction and repulsion
must be symmetrically disposed around its path ; and the
chances against this are infinitely great. The impossibility
of making an absolutely true edge to a bar of metal — the
fact that all which can be done by the best mechanical ap-
pliances, is to reduce the irregularities of such an edge to
amounts that cannot be perceived without magnifiers — sufii-
ciently exemplifies how, in consequence of the iinsymmetrical
distribution of forces around the line of movement, the move-
ment is rendered more or less indirect. It may be
well to add that in proportion as the forces at work are
numerous and varied, the curve a moving body describes is
necessarily complex : -s^dtness the contrast between the flight
of an arrow and the gyrations of a stick tossed about by
breakers.

As a step towards unification of knowledge we have now
to trace these general laws throughout the various orders of
changes which the Cosmos exhibits. Wehavetonote how every
motion takes place along the line of greatest traction, of least
resistance, or of their resultant ; how the setting up of motion
along a certain line, becomes a cause of its continuance along
that line; how, nevertheless, change of relations to external
forces, always renders this Kne indirect ; and how tlie degree
of its indirectness increases with every addition to the number
of influences at work.

§ 76. If we assume the first stage in nebular condensation
to be the precipitation into flocculi of denser matter previously
drffused through a rarer medium, (a supposition both physi-
cally justified, and in harmony with certain astronomical ob-
Bervations,) we shall find that nebular motion is interpretable
in pursuance of the above general laws. Each portion of such
vapour-like matter must begin to move towards the common

228 THE DIRECTION OF MOTION.

centre of gravity. Tlie tractive forces wliicli would of them-
selves carry it in a straight line to the centre of gravity, are
opposed by the resistant forces of the medium through
which it is drawn. The direction of movement must be the
resultant of these — a resultant which, in consequence of the
unsymmctrical form of the flocculus, must be a curve directed,
not to the centre of gravity, but towards one side of it. And
it may be readily shown that in an aggregation of such floc-
culi, severally thus moving, there must, by composition of
forces, eventually result a rotation of the whole nebula in one
direction.

Merely noting this hypothetical illustration for the purpose
of showing how the law applies to the case of nebular evolu-
tion, supposing it to have taken place, let us pass to the phe-
nomena of the Solar System as now exhibited.- Here the
general principles above set forth are every instant exempli-
fied. Each planet and satellite has a momentum which
would, if acting alone, carry it forward in the direction it is
at any instant pursuing. This momentum hence acts as a
resistance to motion in any other direction. Each planet and
satellite, however, is drawn by a force which, if unopposed,
would take it in a straight line towards its primary. And the
resultant of these two forces is that curve which it describes —
a curve manifestly consequent on the unsymmctrical distribu-
tion of the forces around its path. This path, when more
closely examined, supplies us with further illustrations. For
it is not an exact circle or ellipse ; which it would be were the
tangential and centripetal forces the only ones concerned.
Adjacent members of the Solar System, ever varying in their
relative positions, cause what we call perturbations ; that is,
slight divergences in various directions from that circle or
ellipse which the two chief forces would produce. These per-
turbations severally show us in minor degrees, how the line of
movement is the resultant of all the forces engaged ; and how
this iine becomes more complicated in proportion as the
forces are multiplied. If instead of the motions of the

THE DIRECTION OF MOTION. 229

planets and satellites as wholes, we consider the motions of
their parts, we meet with comparatively complex illustrations.
Every portion of the Earth's substance in its daily rotation,
describes a curve which is in the main a resultant of that
resistance which checks its nearer approach to the centre of
gravity, that momentum which would carry it off at a tangent,
and those forces of gravitation and cohesion which keep it
from being so carried off. If this axial motion be compounded
with the orbital motion, the course of each part is seen to be
a much more involved one. And we find it to have a still
greater complication on taking into account that lunar attrac-
tion which mainly produces the tides and the precession of
the equinoxes.

§ 77. TVe come next to terrestrial changes : present ones
as observed, and past ones as inferred by geologists. Let us
sot out with the hourly-occurring alterations in the Earth's
atmosphere ; descend to the slower alterations in progress on
its surface ; and then to the still slower ones going on beneath.

JMasses of air, absorbing heat from surfaces warmed by the
sun, expand, and so lessen the weight of the atmospheric
columns of which they are parts. Hence they offer to adjacent
atmospheric columns, diminished lateral resistance ; and these,
moving in the directions of the diminished resistance, displace
the expanded air ; while this, pursuing an upward course, dis-
plays a motion along that line in which there is least pressure.
When again, by the ascent of such heated masses from ex-
tended areas like the torrid zone, there is produced at the
upper surface of the atmosphere, a protuberance beyond the
limits of equilibrium — when the air forming this protuber-
ance begins to overflow laterally towards the poles ; it does
so because, while the tractive force of the Earth is nearly the
same, the lateral resistance is greatly diminished. And
throughout the course of each current thus generated, as well
as throughout the course of each counter- current flowing in-
to the vacuum that is left, the direction is always the resultant

230 THE DIRECTION OP MOTION.

of the Earth's tractive force and the resistance offered bv tho
surrounding masses of air : modified only by conflict with
other currents similarly determined, and by collision with
prominences on the Earth^s crust. The movements

of water, in both its gaseous and liquid states, furnish further
examples. In conformity with the mechanical theory of heat,
it may be shown that evaporation is the escape of particles of
water in the direction of least resistance ; and that as the re-
sistance (which is due to the pressure of the water diffused in
a gaseous state) diminishes, the evaporation increases. Con-
versely, that rushing together of particles called condensation,
which takes place when any portion of atmospheric vapour
has its temperature much lowered, may be interpreted as a
diminution of the mutual pressure among the condensing
particles, while the pressure of surrounding particles remains
the same ; and so is a motion taking place in the direction of
lessened resistance. In the course followed by the resulting
rain-drops, we have one of the simplest instances of the joint
effect of the two antagonist forces. The Earth's attraction,
and the resistance of atmospheric currents ever varying in
direction and intensity, give as their resultants, lines which
incline to the horizon in countless different degrees and under-
go perpetual variations. More clearly still is the law exem-
plified by these same rain-drops when they reach the ground.
In the course they take while trickling over its surface, in
every rill, in every larger stream, and in every river, we see
them descending as straight as the antagonism of surround-
ing objects permits. From moment to moment, the motion
of water towards the Earth's centre is opposed by the solid
matter around and under it ; and from moment to moment
its route is the resultant of the lines of greatest traction and
least resistance. So far from a cascade furnislimg, as it seems
to do, ah exception, it furnishes but another illustration. For
thousrh all solid obstacles to a vertical fall of the water are
removed, yet the water's horizontal momentum is an obstacle ;
and the parabola in which the stream leaps from the pro-

TJIE DIRECTION OF MOTION. 231

jecting ledge, is generated by tlie combined gravitation and
momentum. It may be well just to draw attention

to the degree of complexity here produced in tbe line of
movement by tbe variety of forces at work. In atmospberio
currents, and still more clearly in water-courses (to wbich
migbt be added ocean-streams), tbe route followed is too com-
plex to be defined, save as a curve of three dimensions with
an ever varying equation.

The Earth's solid crust undergoes changes that supply an-
other group of illustrations. The denudation of lands and
the depositing of the removed sediment in new strata at the
bottoms of seas and lakes, is a process throughout which mo-
tion is obviously determined in the same way as is that of the
water effecting the transport. Again, though we have no
direct inductive proof that the forces classed as igneous, ex-
pend themselves along lines of least resistance ; yet what little
we know of them is in harmony with the belief that they do
so. Earthquakes continually revisit the same localities, and
special tracts undergo for long periods together successive
elevations or subsidences, — facts which imply that already-
fractured portions of the Earth's crust are those most prone
to yield under the pressure caused by further contractions.
The distribution of volcanoes along certain lines, as well as
the frequent recurrence of eruptions from the same vents,
are facts of like meaning.

§ 78. That organic growth takes place in the direction of
least resistance, is a proposition that has been set forth and
illustrated by Mr. James Hinton, in the Medico- Chirurgical
Revieio for October, 1858. After detailing a few of the early
observations which led him to this generalization, he for-
mulates it thus : —

" Organic form is the result of motion."
" Motion takes the direction of least resistance."
"Therefore organic form is the result of motion in the
direction of least resistance.'*

232 THE DIRECTION OF MOTION.

After an elucidation and defence of this position, Mr.
Hinton proceeds to interpret, in conformity with it, sun-
dry phenomena of development. Speaking of plants he
says : —

" The formation of the root furnishes a beautiful illustra-
tion of the law of least resistance, for it grows by insinuating
itself, cell by cell, through the interstices of the soil ; it is by
such minute additions that it increases, winding and twisting
whithersoever the obstacles it meets in its path determine, and
growing there most, where the nutritive materials are added
to it most abundantly. As we look on the roots of a mighty
tree, it appears to us as if they had forced themselves with
giant violence into the solid earth. But it is not so ; they
were led on gently, cell added to cell, softly as the dews de-
scended, and the loosened earth made way. Once formed, in-
deed, they expand with an enormous power, but the spongy
condition of the growing radicles utterly forbids the supposi-
tion that they are forced into the earth. Is it not probable,
indeed, that the enlargement of the roots already formed may
crack the surrounding soil, and help to make the interstices
into which the new rootlets grow ? " * * *

" Throughout almost the whole of organic nature the spiral
form is more or less distinctly marked. Now, motion under
resistance takes a spiral direction, as may be seen by the mo-
tion of a body rising or falling through water. A bubble
rising rapidly in water describes a spiral closely resembling
a corkscrew, and a body of moderate specific gravity dropped
into water may be seen to fall in a curved direction, the
spiral tendency of which may be distinctly observed

* * * In this prevailing spiral form of organic
bodies, therefore, it appears to me, that there is presented a
strong prima facie case for the view I have maintained.

* * * The spiral form of the branches of many
trees is very apparent, and the universally spiral arrangement
of the leaves around the stem of plants needs only to be refen-ed
fco. * * * The heart commences as a spiral turn,

THE DIRECTION OF MOTION. 233

and in its perfect form a manifest spiral may be traced through
the left ventricle, right ventricle, right auricle, left auricle
and appendix. And what is the spiral turn in which the
heart commences but a necessary result of the lengthening,
under a limit, of the cellular mass of which it then con-
sists?" » ♦ *

^^ Every one must have noticed the peculiar curling up of
the young leaves of the common fern. The appearance is a3
if the leaf were rolled up, but in truth this form is merely a
phenomenon of growth. The curvature results from the in-
crease of the leaf, it is only another form of the wrinkling up,
or turning at right angles by extension under limit."

" The rolling up or imbrication of the petals in many flower-
buds is a similar thing ; at an early period the small petals
may be seen lying side by side, afterwards growing within the
capsule, they become folded round one another." * ♦ *

" If a flower-bud be opened at a sufficiently early period,
the stamens will be found as if moulded in the cavity between
the pistil and the corolla, which cavity the anthei'S exactly
fill ; the stalks lengthen at an after period. I have noticed
also in a few instances, that in those flowers in which the
petals are imbricated, or twisted together, the pistil is taper-
ing as growing up between the petals ; in some flowers which
have the petals so arranged in the bud as to form a dome (as
the hawthorn; e. g.), the pistil is flattened at the apex, and
in the bud occupies a space precisely limited by the stamens
below, and the enclosing petals above and at the sides. I
have not, however, satisfied myself that this holds good in all
cases."

Without endorsing all 'Mr, Hinton's illustrations, to
some of which exception might be taken, his conclusioa
may be accepted as a large instalment of the truth. It is,
however, to be remarked, that in the case of organic growth,
as in all other cases, the line of movement is in strictness
the resultant of tractive and resistant forces; and that
the tractive forces here form so considerable an element

234 THE DIRECTION OF MOTION.

that the formula is scarcely complete without them. The
shapes of plants are manifestly modified by grayitalion :
the direction of each branch is not what it would have been
were the tractive force of the Earth absent ; and every flower
and leaf is somewhat altered in the course of development by
the weight of its parts. Though in animals such eficcts are
less conspicuous, yet the instances in which flexible organs
have their directions m great measure determined by gravity,
justify the assertion that throughout the whole organism the
forms of parts must be affected by this force.

The organic movements which constitute growth, are not,
however, the only organic movements to be interpreted.
There are also those which constitute function. And through-
out these the same general principles are discernible. That
the vessels along which blood, lymph, bile, and all the
secretions, find their ways, are channels of least resistance,
is a fact almost too conspicuous to be named as an illustration.
Less conspicuous, however, is the truth, that the currents set-
ting along these vessels are affected by the tractive force of
the Earth : witness varicose veins ; witness the relief to an
inflamed part obtained by raising it ; witness the congestion
of head and face produced by stooping. And in the fact that
dropsy in the legs gets greater by day and decreases at night,
while, conversely, that cedematous fullness under the eyes
common in debility, grows worse during the hours of reclin-
ing and decreases after getting up, shows us how the trans-
udation of fluid through the walls of the capillaries, varies ac-
cording as change of position changes the effect of gravity in
diffisrent parts of the 'body.

It may be well in passing just to note the bearing of the
principle on the development of species. From a dynamic
point of view, '' natural selection " implies structural changes
along lines of least resistance. The multiplication of any kind
of plant or animal in localities that are favourable to it, is a
growth where the antagonistic forces are less than elsewhere.
And the preservation of varieties that succeed better than their

THE DIRECTION OF MOTION. 235

ftUies ID coping with surrounding conditions, is the continu-
ance of vital movement in those directions where the obstacles
to it are most eluded.

§ 79. Throughout the phenomena of mind the law enunci-
ated is not so readily established. In a large part of them,
as those of thought and emotion, there is no perceptible move-
ment. Even in sensation and volition, which show us in one
part of the body an effect produced by a force applied to an-
other part, the intermediate movement is inferential rather
than visible. Such indeed are the difficulties that it is not
possible here to do more than briefly indicate the proofs which
might be given did space permit.

Supposing the various forces throughout an organism to be
previously in equilibrium, then any part which becomes the
.^eat of a further force, added or liberated, must be one from
which the force, being resisted by smaller forces around, will
initiate motion towards some other part of the organism. If
elsewhere in the organism there is a point at which force is
being expended, and which so is becoming minus a force which
it before had, instead of plus a force which it before had not,
and thus is made a point at which the re-action against sur-
rounding forces is diminished ; then, manifestly, a motion tak-
ing place between the first and the last of these points is a
motion along the line of least resistance. I^ow a sensation
implies a force added to, or evolved in, that part of the organ-
ism which is its seat ; while a mechanical movement implies
an expenditure or loss of force in that part of the organism
which is its seat. Hence if, as we find to be the fact, motion is
habitually propagated from those parts of an organism to which
the external world adds forces in the shape of nervous impres-
«ions, to those parts of an organism which react on the external
world through muscular contractions, it is simply a fulfil-
ment of the law above enunciated. From this general
conclusion we may pass to a more special one. When there
is anything in the circumstances of an animal's life, involving

236 THE DIRECTION OF MOTION.

that a sensation in one particular place is habitually followed
bj?" a contraction in another particular place — when there is
thus a frequently-repeated motion through the organism be-
tween these places ; what must be the result as respects the
line along which the motions take place ? Restoration of equi-
librium between the points at which the forces have been
increased and decreased, must take place through some chan-
nel. If this channel is affected by the discharge — if the
obstructive action of the tissues traversed, involves any
reaction upon them, deducting from their obstructive
power ; then a subsequent motion between these two points
will meet with less resistance along this channel than the pre-
vious motion met with ; and will consequently take this
channel still more decidedly. If so, every repetition will still
further diminish the resistance offered by this route; and
hence will gradually be formed between the two a permanent
line of communication, differing greatly from the surrounding
tissue in respect of the ease with which force traverses it. "We
see, therefore, that if between a particular impression and a
particular motion associated with it, there is established a
connexion producing what is called reflex action, the law that
motion follows the line of least resistance, and that, if the
conditions remain constant, resistance in any direction is dimin-
ished by motion occurring in that direction, supplies an expla-
nation. Without further details it will be manifest that
a like interpretation may be given to the succession of all
other nervous changes. If in the surrounding world there
are objects, attributes, or actions, that usually occur together,
the effects severally produced by them in the organism will be-
come so connected by those repetitions which we call experience,
that they also will occur together. In proportion to the fre-
quency with which any external connexion of phenomena is
experienced, will be the strength of the answering internal con-
nexion of nervous states. Thus there will arise all degrees of
cohesion among nervous states, as there are all degrees of com-
monness among the surrounding co-existences and sequences

THE DIRECTION OF MOTION. 237

that generate tliem : whence must result a general correspond-
ence between associated ideas and associated actions in the
environment.*

The relation between emotions and actions may be similarly
construed. As a first illustration let us observe what happens
with emotions that are undirected by volitions. These, like
feelings in general, expend themselves in generating organic
changes, and chiefly in muscular contractions. As was
pointed out in the last chapter, there result ' movements of
the involuntar}^ and voluntary muscles, that are great in pro-
portion as the emotions are strong. It remains here to be
pointed out, however, that the order in which these muscles
are affected, is explicable only on the principle above set forth.
Thus, a pleasurable or painful state of mind of but slight
intensity, does little more than increase the pulsations of the
heart. Why ? For the reason that the relation between
nervous excitement and vascular contraction, being common
to every genus and species of feeling, is the one of most
frequent repetition ; that hence the nervous connexion is, in
the way above shown, the one which offers the least resistance
to a discharge ; and is therefore the one along which a feeble
force produces motion. A sentiment or passion that is some-
what stronger, affects not only the heart but the muscles of
the face, and especially those around the mouth. Here the
like explanation applies; since these muscles, being both com-
paratively small, and, for purposes of speech, pei-petually
used, offer less resistance than other voluntary muscles
to the nervo-motor force. By a further increase of emotion
the respiratory and vocal muscles become perceptibly excited.
Finally, under strong passion, the muscles in general of the
trunk and limbs are violently contracted. Without sapng
that the facts can be thus interpreted in all their details (a

• This paragraph is a re-statement, somewhat amplified, of an idea set forth iu
the Medico-Chirurgical Review for January, 1859 (pp. 189. and 190) ; and con-
tains the germ of the intended fifth part of the Principles of Psychology, which
was withheld for the reasons given in the preface to that work

238 THE DIRECTION OF MOTION.

task requiring data impossible to obtain) it may be safely said
that tbe order of excitation is from muscles that are small and
frequently acted on, to tbose whicli are larger and less fre-
quently acted on. The single instance of laughter, which is
an undirected discharge of feeling that afiects first the
muscles round the mouth, then those of the vocal and respir-
atory apparatus, then those of the limbs, and then those of
the spine ; * suffices to show that when no special route is
opened for it, a force evolved in the nervous centres produces
motion along channels which offer the least resistance, and if
it is too great to escape by these, produces motion along
channels offering successively greater resistance.

Probably it will be thought impossible to extend this
reasoning so as to include volitions. Yet we are not without
evidence that the transition from special desires to special
muscular acts, conforms to the same principle. It may be
shown that the mental antecedents of a voluntary movement,
are antecedents which temporarily make the line along which
this movement takes place, the line of least resistance. For
a volition, suggested as it necessarily is by some previous
thought connected with it by associations that determine the
transition, is itself a representation of the movements that are
willed, and of their sequences. But to represent in conscious-
ness certain of our own movements, is partially to arouse the
sensations accompanying such movements, inclusive of those
of muscular tension — is partially to excite the appropriate
motor-nerves and all the other nerves implicated. That is to
say, the volition is itself an incipient discharge along a lino
which previous experiences have rendered a line of least re-
sistance. And the passing of volition into action is simply a
completion of the discharge.

One corollary from this must be noted before proceeding ;
namely, that the particular set of muscular movements bj
ivhich any object of desire is reached, are movements imply-

• For details see a paper on " Tlie Physiology of Laughter," publifihed In
MaemCllan's Magazine for March 1860.

THE DIRECTION OF MOTIOX. 239

ing the smallest total of forces to be overcome. As each feel-
ing generates motion along the line of least resistance, it is
tolerably clear that a group of feelings, constituting a more
or less complex desire, will generate motion along a series of
lines of least resistance. That is to say, the desired end will
be achieved with the smallest expenditure of effort. Should
it be objected that through want of knowledge or want of
skill, a man often pursues the more laborious of two courses,
and so overcomes a larger total of opposing forces than was
necessary ; the reply is, that relatively to his mental state the
course he takes is that which presents the fewest difficulties.
Though there is another which in the abstract is easier, yet
his ignorance of it, or inability to adopt it, is, physically con-
sidered, the existence of an insuperable obstacle to the dis-
charge of his energies in that direction. Experience obtained
by himself, or communicated by others, has not established
in him such channels of nervous communication as are re-
quired to make this better course the course of least re-
sistance to him.

§ 80. As in individual animals, inclusive of man, motion
follows lines of least resistance, it isto be inferred that amon^
aggregations of men, the like wiU hold good. The changes
in a society, being due to the joint actions of its members, the
courses of such changes will be determined as are those of all
other changes wrought by composition of forces.

Thus when we contemplate a society as an organism, and
observe the direction of its growth, we find this direction to
be that in which the average of opposing forces is the least.
Its units have energies to be expended in self-maintenance
and reproduction. These energies are met by various
environing energies that are antagonistic to them — those of
geological origin, those of climate, of wild animals, of other
human races with whom they are at enmity or in competi-
tion. And the tracts the society spreads over, are those in
which there is the smallest total antagonism. Or, reducing

240 THE DIRECTION OF MOTION.

the matter to its ultimate terms, we may say that these social
units have jointly and severally to preserve themselves and
their offspring from those inorganic and organic forces which
are ever tending to destroy them (either indirectly by oxi-
dation and by undue abstraction of heat, or directly by bodily
mutilation) ; that these forces are either counteracted by
others which are available in the shape of food, clothing,
habitations, and appliances of defence, or are, as far as may
be, eluded ; and that population spreads in whichever di-
rections there is the readiest escape from these forces, or the
least exertion in obtaining the materials for resisting them,
or both. For these reasons it happens that fertile

valleys where water and vegetal* produce abound, are early
peopled. Sea-shores, too, supplying a large amount of easily-
gathered food, are lines along which mankind have common-
ly spread. The general fact that, so far as we can judge from
the traces left by them, large societies first appeared in those
tropical regions where the fruits of the earth are obtainable
with comparatively little exertion, and where the cost of
maintaining bodily heat is but slight, is a fact of like mean-
ing. And to these instances may be added the allied one
daily furnished by emigration ; which we see going on to-
wards countries presenting the fewest obstacles to the
self-preservation of individuals, and therefore to national
growth. Similarly with that resistance to the move-

ments of a society which neighbouring societies oiffer. Each
of the tribes or nations inhabiting any region, increases in
numbers until it outgrows its means of subsistence. In each
there is thjas a force ever pressing outwards on to adjacent
areas — a force antagonized by like forces in the tribes or
nations occupying those areas. And the ever-recurring wars
that result — the conquests of weaker tribes or nations, and
the over-running of their territories by the victors, are
instances of social movements taking place in the directions
of least resistance. Nor do the conquered peoples, when
they escape extermination or enslavement, fail to show us

THE DIRECTION OF MOTION. 21 J

movements that are similarly determined. For migrating as
they do to less fertile regions — taking refuge in deserts or
among mountains — moving in a direction where the re-
sistance to social growth is comparatively great ; they still do
this only under an excess of pressure in all other directions :
the physical obstacles to self-preservation they encounter,
being really less than the obstacles offered by the enemies
from whom they fly.

Internal social movements may also be thus interpreted.
Localities naturally fitted for producing particular commodi-
ties— that is, localities in which such commodities are got at
the least cost of force — that is, localities in which the desires
for these commodities meet with the least resistance ; become
localities especially devoted to the obtainment of these com-
modities. Where soil and climate render wheat a profitable
crop, or a crop from which the greatest amount of life-sustain-
ing power is gained by a given quantity of effort, the growth
of wheat becomes the dominant industry. "Where wheat can-
not be economicall}'- produced, oats, or rye, or maize, or rice,
or potatoes, is the agricultural staple. Along sea-shores men
support themselves with least effort by catching fish ; and
hence choose fishing as an occupation. And in places that
are rich in coal or metallic ores, the population, finding that
f labour devoted to the raisin <> of these materials bringfs a
' larger return of food and clothing than when otherwise di-
rected, becomes a population of miners. This last
instance introduces us to the phenomena of exchange ; which
equally illustrate the general law. For the practice of
barter begins as soon as it facilitates the fulfilment of men's
^ desires, by diminishing the exertion needed to reach the ob-
jects of those desires. When instead of growing his own
corn, weaving his own cloth, sewing his own shoes, each man
began to confine himself to farming, or weaving, or shoemak-
ing; it was because each found it more laborious to make
everything he wanted, than to make a great quantity of one
thing and barter the surplus for the rest : by exchange, each
12

242 THE DIRECTION OF MOTION.

procured tlie necessaries of life without encountering so mucli
resistance. Moreover, in deciding what commodity to pro-
duce, each citizen was, as he is at the present day, guided in
the same manner. For besides those local conditions which
determine whole sections of a society towards the industries
easiest for them, there are also individual conditions and indi-
vidual aptitudes which to each citizen render certain occupa-
tions preferable ; and in choosing those forms of activity
which their special circumstances and faculties dictate,
these social units are severally moving towards the objects
of their desires in the directions which present to them the
fewest obstacles. The process of transfer which com-

merce pre-supposes, supplies another series of examples. So
long as the forces to be overcome in procuring any necessary
of life in the district where it is consumed, are less than tlie
forces to be overcome in procuring it from an adjacent dis-
trict, exchange does not take place. But when the adjacent
district produces it with an economy that is not out-balanced
by cost of transit — when the distance is so small and the
route so easy that the labour of conveyance plus the labour
of production is less than the labour of production in the con-
suming district, transfer commences. Movement in the di-
rection of least resistance is also seen in the establishment of
the channels along which intercourse takes place. At the
outset, when goods are carried on the backs of men and
horses, the paths chosen are those which combine shortness
with levelness and freedom from obstacles — those which are
achieved with the smallest exertion. And in the subsequent
formation of each highway, the course taken is that which
deviates horizontally from a straight line so far only as is
needful to avoid vertical deviations entailing greater labour
in drauffht. The smallest total of obstructive forces deter-
mines the route, evan in seemingly exceptional cases ; aa
where a detour is made to avoid the opposition of a land-
owner. All subsequent improvements, ending in macada-
mized roads, canals, and railways, which reduce the an-

THE DIUECTION OF MOTION. 243

tagonlsm of friction and gravity to a minimum, exemplify
-the same truth. After there comes to be a choice of roads
between one point and another, we still see that the road
chosen is that along which the cost of transit is the least :
cost being the measure of resistance. Even where, time being
a consideration, the more expensive route is followed, it is so
because the loss of time involves loss of force. When,

di\dsion of labour having been carried to a considerable ex-
tent and means of communication made easy, there arises a
marked localization of industries, the relative growths of the
populations devoted to them may be interpreted on the same
principle. The influx of people to each industrial centre, as
well as the rate of multiplication of those already inhabiting
it, is determined by the payment for labour ; that is — by the
quantity of commodities which a given amount of effort will
obtain. To say that artisans flock to places where, in conse-
quence of faciKties for production, an extra proportion of pro-
duce can be given in the shape of wages ; is to say that they
flock to places where there are the smallest obstacles to the
support of themselves and families. Hence, the rapid in-
crease of number which occurs in such places, is really a
social growth at points where the opposing forces are the
least.

Nor is the law less clearly to be traced in those functional
changes daily going on. The flow of capital into businesses
yielding the largest returns ; the buying in the cheapest
market and selling in the dearest ; the introduction of more
economical modes of manufacture ; the development of better
agencies for distribution ; and all those variations in the
currents of trade that are noted in our newspapers and tele-
grams from hour to hour ; exhibit movement taking place in
directions where it is met by the smallest total of opposing
forces. For if we analyze each of these changes — if instead
of interest on capital we read surplus of products which re-
mains after maintenance of labourers; if we so interpret
large interest or large surplus to imply labour expended with

244 THE DIRECTION OF MOTION.

the greatest results ; and if labour expended with the greatest
results means muscular action so directed as to evade ob-
stacles as far as possible ; we see that all these commercial
phenomena are complicated motions set up along lines of
least resistance.

Objections of two opposite kinds will perhaps be made to
these sociological applications of the law. By some it may
be said that the term force as here used, is used metaphori-
cally— that to speak of men as impelled in certain directions
by certain desires, is a figure of speech and not the statement
of a physical fact. The reply is, that the foregoing illustra-
tions are to be interpreted literally, and that the processes de-
scribed are physical ones. The pressure of hunger is an
actual force — a sensation implying some state of nervous ten-
sion ; and the muscular action which the sensation prompts
is really a discharge of it in the shape of bodily motion — a
discharge which, on analyzing the mental acts involved, will
be found to follow lines of least resistance. Hence the
motions of a society whose members are impelled by this or
any other desire, are actually, and not metaphorically, to be
understood in the manner shown. An opposite ob-

jection may possibly be, that the several illustrations given
are elaborated truisms ; and that the law of direction of mo-
tion being once recognized, the fact that social movements,
in common with all others, must conform to it, follows inevit-
ably. To this it may be rejoined, that a mere abstract asser-
tion that social movements must do this, would carry no con-
viction to the majority ; and that it is needful to show Jiow
they do it. For social phenomena to be unified with pheno-
mena of simpler kinds, it is requisite that such generaliza-
tions as those of political economy shall bo reduced to equi-
valent propositions expressed in terms of force and motion.

Social movements of these various orders severally conform
to the two derivative principles named ut the outset. In the
first place we may observe how, once set up in given di-
r<3ctions, such movements, like all others, tend to continue in

TIIE DIRECTION OF MOTION. 245

these directions. A commercial mania or panic, a current
of commodities, a social custom, a political agitation, or a
popular delusion, maintains- its course for a longtime after ita
original source Las ceased ; and requires antagonistic forces
<o arrest it. In tlie second place it is to be noted that in
proportion to the complexity of social forces is the tortuous-
aess of social movements. The involved series of muscular
contractions gone through by the artizan, that he may get
the wherewithal to buy a loaf lying at the baker's next door,
show us how extreme becomes the indirectness of motion
when the agencies at work become very numerous — a truth
still better illustrated by the more public social actions ; as "
those which end in bringing a successful man of business,
towards the close of his life, into parliament.

§ 81. And now of the general truth set forth in this
chapter, as of that dealt with in the last, let us ask — what is
our ultimate evidence ? Must we accept it simply as an em-
pirical generalization ? or may it be established as a corollary
from a still deeper truth ? The reader will anticipate the
answer. We shall find it deducible from that datum of
consciousness which underlies all science.

Suppose several tractive forces, variously directed, to be act-
ing on a given body. By what is known among mathema-
ticians as the composition of forces, there may be found for
any two of these, a single force of such amount and direction
as to produce on the body an exactly equal effect. If in the
direction of each of them there be drawn a straight Hne,
and if the lengths of these two straight lines be made pro-
portionate to the amounts of the forces ; and if from the end
of each Kne there be drawn a line parallel to the other, so
as to complete a parallelogram ; then the diagonal of this
parallelogram represents the amount and direction of a force
that is equivalent to the two. Such a resultant force, as it is
called, may be found for any pair of forces throughout the
group. Similarly, for any pair of such resultants a single

246 THE DIRECTION OF MOTION.

resultant may be found. And by repeating this course, all of
tbem may be reduced to two. If these two are equal and
opposite — that is, if there is no line of greatest traction,
motion does not take place. If they are opposite but not
equal, motion takes place in the direction of the greater.
And if they are neither equal nor opposite, motion takes
place in the direction of their resultant. For in either of
these cases there is an unantagonized force in one direction.
And this residuary force that is not neutralized by an oppos-
ing one, must move the body in the direction in which it is
acting. To assert the contrary is to assert that a force can
be expended without effect — without generating an equiva-
lent force ; and by so implying that force can cease to exist,
this involves a denial of the persistence of force. It

needs scarcely be added that if in place of tractions we take
resistances, the argument equally holds ; and that it holds also
where both tractions and resistances are concerned. Thus
the law that motion follows the line of greatest traction, or
the line of least resistance, or the resultant of the two, is a
necessary deduction from that primordial truth which tran-
scends proof.

Reduce the proposition to its simplest form, and it becomes
still more obviously consequent on the persistence of force.
Suppose two weights suspended over a pulley or from the ends
of an equal- armed lever ; or better still — suppose two men
pulling against each other. In such cases we say that the
heavier weight will descend, and that the stronger man
will draw the weaker towards him. But now, if we are asked
how we know which is the heavier weight or the stronger
man ; we can only reply that it is the one producing motion
in the direction of its pull. Our only evidence of excess of
force is the movement it produces. But if of two opposing
tractions we can know one as greater than the other only by
the motion it generates in its own direction, then the assertion
that motion occurs in the direction of greatest traction is u
truism. When, going a step further back, we seek a warrant

THE UIRECrriON OF MOTION. 247

for the assumption that of the two conflicting forces, that ia
the greater which produces motion in its own direction, we
find no other than the consciousness that such part of the
greater force as is unneutralized by the lesser, must produce
its effect — the consciousness that this residuary force cannot
disappear, but must manifest itself in some equivalent change
— the consciousness that force is persistent. Here too,

as before, it may be remarked that no amount of varied illus-
trations, like those of which this chapter mainly consists, can
give greater certainty to the conclusion thus immediately
drawn from the ultimate datum of consciousness. For in all
cases, as in the simple ones just given, we can identify the
greatest force only by the resulting motion. It is impossible
for us ever to get evidence of the occurrence of motion in any
other direction than that of the greatest force ; since our
measure of relative greatness among forces is their relative
power of generating motion. And clearly, while the compara-
tive greatness of forces is thus determined, no multiplication
of instances can add certainty to a law of direction of move-
ment which follows immediately from the persistence of force.
From this same primordial truth, too, may be deduced the
principle that motion once set up along any line, becomes it-
self a cause of subsequent motion along that line. The me-
chanical axiom that, if left to itself, matter moving in any di-
rection win continue in that direction with undiminished
velocity, is but an indirect assertion of the persistence of
force ; since it is an assertion that the force manifested in
the transfer of a body along a certain length of a certain
line in a certain time, cannot disappear without producing
some equal manifestation — a manifestation which, in the ab-
sence of conflicting forces, must be a further transfer in the
same direction at the same velocity. In the case of

matter traversing matter the like, inference is necessitated.
Here indeed the actions are much more complicated.. A liquid
that follows a certain channel through or over a solid, as water
along the Earth's surface, loses part of its motion in the shape

248 THE BIRECTION OF MOTION.

of heat, througli friction and collision with, the matters form*
ing its bed. A further amount of its motion may be absorbed
in overcoming forces which it liberates ; as when it loosens a
mass which falls into, and blocks np, its channel. But after
these deductions by transformation into other modes of force,
any further deduction from the motion of the water is at the
expense of a reaction on the channel, which by so much di-
minishes its obstructive power : such reaction being shown in
the motion acquired by the detached portions which are car-
ried away. The cutting out of river-courses is a perpetual
illustration of this truth. Still more involved is the

case of motion passing through matter by impulse from part
to part ; as a nervous discharge through animal tissue. Some
chemical change may be wrought along the route traversed,
which may render it less fit than before for conveying a current.
Or the motion may itself be in part metamorphosed into some
obstructive form of force ; as in metals, the conducting power
of which is, for the time, decreased by the heat which the
passage of electricity itself generates. The real question is,
however, what structural modification, if any, is produced
throughout the matter traversed, apart from incidental dis-
turbing forces — apart from everything but the necessary re-
sistance of the matter : that, namely, which results from the
inertia of its units. If we confine our attention to that
part of the motion which, escaping transformation, continues
its course, then it is a corollary from the persistence of
force that as much of this remaining motion as is taken
up in changing the positions of the units, must leave these by
so much less able to obstruct subsequent motion in the same
direction.

Thus in all the changes heretofore and at present displayed
by the Solar System ; in all those that have gone on and are
still going on in the Earth's crust ; in all processes of organic
development and function; in all mental actions and the
effects they work on the body ; and in all modifications of
structure and activity in societies ; the implied movements are

THE DIEECTION OP MOTION. 249

of necessity determined in tlie manner above set forth.
Wlierever we see motion^ its direction must be tbat of tbo
greatest force. Wlierever we see the greatest force to b^
acting in a given direction^ in that direction motion must
ensue. These arc not truths holding only of one class, or of
some classes, of phenomena ; but they are among those
universal truths by wliich our knowledge of phenomena in
general is uni^edi

CHAPTER X.

THE RHYTHM OF MOTION.

§ 82. When the pennant of a vessel lying becalmed first

bhows the coming breeze, it does so by gentle undulations

that travel from its fixed to its free end. Presently the sails

begin to flap ; and their blows against the mast increase in

rapidity as the breeze rises.* Even when, being fully bellied

out, they are in great part steadied by the strain of the yards

and cordage, their free edges tremble with each stronger

gust. And should there come a gale, the jar that is felt on

laying hold of the shrouds shows that the rigging vibrates ;

while the rush and whistle of the wind prove that in it, also,

rapid undulations are generated. Ashore the conflict between

the current of air and the things it meets results in a like

rhythmical action. The leaves all shiver in the blast ; each

branch oscillates ; and every exposed tree sways to and fro.

The blades of grass and dried bents in the meadows, and still

better the stalks in the neighbouring corn-fields, exhibit the

same rising and falling movement. Nor do the more stable

objects fail to do the like, though in a less manifest fashion ;

as witness the shudder that may be felt throughout a house

during the paroxysms of a violent storm. Streams of

water produce in opposing objects the same general efiects as

do streams of air. Submerged weeds growing in the middle

of a brook, undulate from end to end. Branches brought

down by the last flood, and left entangled at the bottom

THE RHYTHM OF MOTION. 251

where tlie current is rapid, are tkrown into a stale of up and
down movement that is slow or quick in proportion as they
are large or small ; and where, as in great rivers like the
Mississippi, whole trees are thus held, the name " sawyers,"
by which they are locally known, sufficiently describes the
rhythm produced in them. Note again the effect of the
antagonism between the current and its chanuel. In shallow
places, where the action of the bottom on the water flowing
over it is visible, we see a ripple produced — a series of undula-
tions. And if we study the action and re-action going on
between the moving fluid and its banks, we still find tho
principle illustrated, though in a different way. For in every
rivulet, as in the mapped-out course of every great river, the
bends of the stream from side to side throughout its tortuous
course constitute a lateral undulation — an undulation so in-
evitable that even an artificially straightened channel is
eventually changed into a serpentine one. Analogous phe-
nomena may be observed where the water is stationary and
the solid matter moving. A stick drawn laterally through
the water with much force, proves by the throb which it
communicates to the hand that it is in a state of vibration.
Even where the moving body is massive, it only requires that
great force should be applied to get a sensible effect of like
kind : instance the screw of a screw-steamer, which instead
of a' smooth rotation falls into a rapid rhythm that sends a
tremor through the whole vessel. The sound which

results when a bow is drawn over a vioKn-string, shows us
vibrations produced by the movement of a solid over a solid.
In lathes and planing machiues, the attempt to take off a
thick shaving causes a violent jar of the whole apparatus, and
the production of a series of waves on the iron or wood that
is cut. Every boy in scraping his slate-pencil finds it
scarcely possible to help making a ridged surface. If you
roll a ball along the ground or over the ice, there is always
more or less up and down movement — a movement that is
visible while the velocity is considerable, but becomes too

252 THE RHYTHM OF MOTION.

email and r^pid to be seen by tbe unaided eye as tbe velocity
diminisbes. However smootb tbe rails, and bowever per-
fectly built tbe carriages, a railway- train inevitably gets into
oscillations, botb lateral and vertical. Even wbere moving
matter is suddenly arrested by collision, tbe law is still illus-
trated ; for botb tbe body striking and tbe body struck are
made to tremble; and trembling is rbytbmical movement.
Little as we babitually observe it, it is yet certain tbat tbe
impulses our actions impress from moment to moment on
surrounding objects, are propagated tbrougb tbem in vibra-
tions. It needs but to look tbrougb a telescope of bigb
power, to be convinced tbat eacb pulsation of tbe beart gives
a jar to tbe whole room. If we pass to motions of

anotber order — tbose namely wbicb take place in tbe etberial
medium — we still find tbe same tbing. Every fresb dis-
covery confirms tbe bj^potbesis tbat ligbt consists of undula-
tions. Tbe rays of beat, too, are now found to bave a like
fundamental nature : tbeir undulations differing from tbose
of ligbt only in tbeir comparative lengths. Nor do tbe move-
ments of electricity fail to furnisb us witb an illustration ;
tbougb one of a difierent order. Tbe northern aurora may
often be observed to pulsate witb waves of greater brightness ;
and the electric discharge through a vacuum shows us by its
stratified appearance tbat tbe current is not uniform, but
comes in gushes of greater and lesser intensity. . Should

it be said that at any rate there are some motions, as those of
projectiles, which are not rhythmical, the reply is, that the
exception is apparent only ; and that these motions would be
rhythmical if they were not interrupted. It is common to
assert tbat the trajectory of a cannon ball is a parabola ; and
it is true that (omitting atmospheric resistance) tbe curve de-
scribed differs so slightly from a parabola that it may practi-
cally be regarded as one. But, strictly speaking, it is a por-
tion of an extremely eccentric ellipse, having the Earth's
centre of gravity for its remoter focus ; and but for its arrest
by tbe ^ibstance of the Earth, tbe cannon ball would travel

THE RHYTHM OF MOTION. 25o

round tliat focus and return to tlie point whence it started ;
again to repeat this slow rhytlim. Indeed, while seeming at
first sight to do the reverse, the discharge of a cannon
furnishes one of the best illustrations of the principle enunci-
ated. The explosion produces yiolent undulations in the
surrounding air. The whizz of the shot, as it flies towards
its mark, is due to another series of atmospheric undulations,
i^ nd the movement to and from the Earth's centre, which the
cannon hall is beginning to perform, being checked by solid
matter, is transformed into a rhythm of another order ;
namely, the vibration which the blow sends through neigh-
bouring bodies.*

Rhythm is very generally not simple but compound.
There are usually at work various forces, causing undulations
differing in rapidity ; and hence it continually happens that
besides the primary rhythms there are secondary rhythms,
produced by the periodic coincidence and antagonism of the
primary ones. Double, triple, and even quadruple rhythms,
are thus generated. One of the simplest instances is afforded
by what in acoustics are known as "beats :" recurring inter-
vals of sound and silence which are perceived when two notes
of nearly the same pitch are struck together ; and which are
due to the alternate correspondence and antagonism of tlie
atmospheric waves. In like manner the various phenomena
due to what is called interference of light, severally result
from the periodic agreement and disagreement of etherial
undulations — undulations which, by alternately intensi-
fying and neutralizing each other, produce intervals of
increased and diminished light. On the sea-shore may be
noted sundry instances of compound rhythm. "We have
that of the tides, in which the daily rise and fall under-
goes a fortnightly increase and decrease, due to the alter-
nate coincidence and antagonism of the solar and lunar

* After having for some years supposed myself alone in the helief that all mo-
rion is rhythmical, I discovered that my Mend Professor Tyndall also held thia
doctrine.

254 I^IE RHYTHM OF MOTION.

attractions. We have again that which is perpetually
furnished by the surface of the sea : every large wave bear-
ing smaller ones on its sides, and these still smaller ones ;
with the result that each flake of foam, along with the por-
tion of water bearing it, undergoes minor ascents and descents
of several orders while it is being raised and lowered by the
greater billows. A quite different and very interesting
example of compound rhythm, occurs in the little riUs which,
at low tide, run over the sand out of the shingle banks above.
AVliere the channel of one of these is narrow, and the stream
runs strongly, the sand at the bottom is raised into a series
of ridges corresponding to the ripple of the water. On
watching for a short time, it will be seen that these ridges
are being raised higher and the ripple growing stronger ;
until at length, the action becoming violent, the whole series
of ridges is suddenly swept away, the stream runs smoothly,
and the process commences afresh. Instances of still more
complex rhythms might be added ; but they will come more
appropriately in connexion with the several kinds of cosmical
changes, hereafter to be dealt with.

From the ensemble of the facts as above set forth, it will be
seen that rhythm results wherever there is a conflict of forces
not in equilibrium. If the antagonist forces at any point are
balanced, there is rest ; and in the absence of motion there
can of course be no rhythm. But if instead of a balance
there is an excess of force in one direction — if, as necessarily
follows, motion is set up in that direction ; then for that
motion to continue imiformly in that direction, it is requisite
that the moving matter should, notwithstanding its unceasing
change of place, present unchanging relations to the sources
of force by which its motion is produced and opposed. This
however is impossible. Every further transfer through space
must alter the ratio between the forces concerned — must in-
crease or decrease the predominance of one force over the
other — must prevent uniformity of movement. And if the
movement cannot be uniform, then, in the absence of accelera-

THE RHYTHM OF M0TI02i. 255

tion or retardation continued through, infinite time and space,
(results which cannot be conceived) the only alternative is
rhythni.

A secondary conclusion must not be omitted. In the last
chapter we saw that motion is never absolutely rectilinear ;
and here it remains to be added that, as a consequence, rhythm
is necessarily incomplete. A truly rectilinear rhythm can
arise only when the opposing forces are in exactly the same
line ; and the probabilities against this are infinitely great.
To generate a perfectly circular rhythm, the two forces con-
cerned must be exactly at right angles to each other, and
must have exactly a certain ratio ; and against this the pro-
babilities are likewise infinitely great. All other proportions
and directions of the two forces will produce an ellipse of
greater or less eccentricity. And when, as indeed always
happens, above two forces are engaged, the curve described
must be more complex ; and cannot exactly repeat itself. So
that in fact throughout nature, this action and re- action of
forces never brings about a complete return to a previous
state. Where the movement is much involved, and especially
where it is that of some aggregate whose units are partially
independent, anything like a regular curve is no longer
traceable ; we see nothing more than a general oscillation.
And .on the completion of any periodic movement, the degree
in which the state arrived at difiers from the state de-
parted from, is usually marked in proportion as the influences
at work are numerous.

§ 83. That spiral arrangement so general among the more
diffused nebulae — an arrangement which must be assumed by
matter moving towards a centre of gravity through a resist-
ing medium — shows us the progressive establishment of
revolution, and therefore of rhythm, in those remote spaces
which the nebula3 occupy. Double stars, moving round com-
mon centres of gravity in periods some of which are now
ascertained, exhibit settled rhythmical actions in distant partd

25«

THE RHYTHM OF MOTION.

of our siderial system. And another fact which, though of a
different order, has a like general significance, is furnished b^
variable stars — stars which alternately brighten and fade.

The periodicities of the planets, satellities, and comets, are
so familiar that it would be. inexcusable to name them, were
it not needful here to point out that they are so many grand
illustrations of this general law of movement. But besides
the revolutions of these bodies in their orbits (all more or less
cxcentric) and their rotations on their axes, the Solar System
presents us with various rhythms of a less manifest and more
complex kind. In each planet and satellite there is the revo-
lution of the nodes — a slow change in the position of the
orbit-plane, which after completing itself commences afresh.
There is the gradual alteration in the length of the axis
major of the orbit; and also of its excentricity : both of
which are rhythmical alike in the sense that they alternate
between maxima and minima, and in the sense that the pro-
gress from one extreme to the other is not uniform, but is
made with fluctuating velocity. Then, too, there is the revo-
lution of the line of apsides, which in course of time moves
round the heavens — not regularly, but through complex
oscillations. And further we have variations in the directions
of the planetary axes — that known as nutation, and that
larger gyration which, in the case of the Earth, causes the
precession of the equinoxes. These rhythms, already

more or less compound, are compounded with each other.
Such an instance as the secular acceleration and retardation
of the moon, consequent on the varying excentricity of the
Earth's orbit, is one of the simplest. Another, having more
important consequences, results from the changing direction
of the axes of rotation in planets whose orbits are decidedly
exccntric. Every planet, during a certain long period, pre-
sents more of its northern than of its southern hemisphere to
the sun, at the time of its nearest approach to him ; and then
again, during a like period, presents more of its southern
hemisphere than of its northern — a recurring coincidence

THE RHYTHM OF MO HON. '257

whicli, thougli causing in some planets no sensible alterations
of climate, involves in the case of the Earth an epoch of
21,000 years, during which each hemisphere goes through a
cjTle of temperate seasons, and seasons that are extreme in
their heat and cold. Nor is this all. There is even a varia-
tion of this variation. For the summers and winters of the
whole Earth become more or less strongly contrasted, as the
excentricity of its orbit increases and decreases. Hence
during increase of the excentricity, the epochs of moderately
contrasted seasons and epochs of strongly contrasted seasons,
through which alternately each hemisphere passes, must grow
more and more different in the degrees of their contrasts ;
and contrariwise during decrease of the excentricity. So
that in the quantity of light and heat which any portion of
the Earth receives from the sun, there goes on a quadruple
rh^i:hm : that of day and night ; that of summer and win-
ter ; that due to the changing position of the axis at perihe-
lion and aphelion, taking 21,000 years to complete ; and that
involved by the variation of the orbit's excentricity, gono
through in millions of years.

§ 84. Those terrestrial processes whose dependence on the
fiolar heat is direct, of course exhibit a rhythm that corre-
sponds to the periodically changing amount of heat which
each part of the Earth receives. The simplest, though the
least obtrusive, instance is supplied by the magnetic variations.
In these there is a diurnal increase and decrease, an annual
increase and decrease, and a decennial increase and decrease ;
the latter answering to a period during which the solar spots
become alternately abundant and scarce : besides which known
variations there are probably others corresponding with the
astronomical cycles just described. More obvious examples
are furnished by the movements of the ocean and the atmo-
sphere. Marine currents from the equator to the poles above,
and from the poles to tho equator beneath, show us an un-
ceasing backward and forward motion throughout this vast

258 THE RHYTHM .OF MOTIOX.

mass of water — a motion varying in amount according to the
seasons, and compounded with, smaller like motions of local
origin. The similarly-caused general currents in the air, have
similar annual variations similarly modified. Irregular aa
they are in detail, we still see in the monsoons and other tropi-
cal atmospheric disturbances, or even in our own equinoctial
gales and spring east winds, a periodicity sufficiently decid-
ed. Again, we have an alternation of times during
which evaporation predominates with times during which con-
densation predominates : shown in the tropics by strongly
marked rainy seasons and seasons of drought, and in the
temperate zones by corresponding changes of which the pe-
riodicity, though less definite, is still traceable. The difiusion
and precipitation of water, besides the slow alternations
answering to different parts of the year, furnish us with ex-
amples of rhythm of a more rapid kind. During wet
weather, lasting, let us say, over some weeks, the tendency
^o condense, though greater than the tendency to evaporate,
does not show itself in continuous rain ; but the period is
made up of rainy days and days that are wholly or partially
fair. Nor is it in this rude alternation only that the law is
manifested. During any day throughout this wet weather a
minor rhythm is traceable ; and especially so when the ten-
dencies to evaporate and to condense are nearly balanced.
Among mountains this minor rhythm and its causes may be
studied to great advantage. Moist winds, which do not pre-
cipitate their contained water in passing over the compara-
tively warm lowlands, lose so much heat when they reach
the cold mountain peaks, that condensation rapidly takes
place. Water, however, in passing from the gaseous to the
fluid state, gives out a considerable amount of heat ; and
hence the resulting clouds are warmer than the air that pre-
cipitates them, and much warmer than the high rocky sur-
faces round which they fold themselves. Hence in the
course of the storm, these high rocky surfaces are raised in
temperature, partly by radiation from the enwrapping cloud.

THE RHYTHM OF MOTION. 259

partly by contact of the falling rain-drops. Giving off more
heat than before, they no longer lower so greatly the temper-
ature of the air passing over them ; and so cease to precipi-
tate its contained water. The clouds break ; the sky begins
to clear ; and a gleam of sunshine promises that the day is
going to be fine. But the small supply of heat which the
cold mountain's sides have received, is soon lost : especially
when the dispersion of the clouds permits free radiation into
space. Yery soon, therefore, these elevated surfaces, becom-
ing as cold as at first, (or perhaps even colder in virtue of tho
evaporation set up,) begin again to condense the vapour in
the air above ; and there comes another storm, followed by
the same effects as before. In lowland regions this action
and reaction is usually less conspicuous, because the contrast
of temperatures is less marked. Even here, however, it may
bo traced ; and that not only on showery days, but on days
of continuous rain ; for in these we do not see uniformity :
always there are fits of harder and gentler rain that are pro-
bably caused as above explained.

Of course these meteorologic rhythms involve something
corresponding to them in the changes wrought by wind and
water on the Earth's surface. Variations in the quantities of
sediment brought down by rivers that rise and fall with the
seasons, must cause variations in the resulting strata — alter-
nations of colour or quality in the successive laminae. Beds
formed from the detritus of shores worn down and carried
away by the waves, must similarly show periodic differences
answering to the periodic winds of the locality. In so far as
frost influences the rate of denudation, its recurrence is a
factor in the rhythm of sedimentary deposits. And the
geological changes produced by glaciers and icebergs ' must
similarly have their alternating periods of greater and less
intensity.

There is evidence also that modifications in the Earth's
crust due to igneous action have a certain periodicity. Vol-
canic eruptions are not continuous but intermittent, and as

260

THE RHYTHM OF MOTION.

far as tlie data enable us to judge, have a certain average
rate of recurrence ; wliich rate of recurrence is complicated
by rising into epoclis of greater activity and falling into
epochs of comparative quiescence. So too is it with earth
quakes and the elevations or depressions caused by them. At
the mouth of the Mississippi, the alternation of strata gives
decisive proof of successive sinkings of the surface, that
have taken place at tolerably equal intervals. Everywhere,
in the extensive groups of conformable strata that imply
small subsidences recurring with a certain average frequency,
we see a rhythm in -the action and reaction between the
Earth's crust and its molten contents — a rhythm compounded
with those slower ones shown in the termination of groups of
strata, and the commencement of other groups not con-
formable to them. There is even reason for suspect-
ing a geological periodicity that is immensely slower and far
wider in its effects ; namely, an alternation of those vast up-
heavals and submergencies by which continents are produced
where there were oceans, and oceans where there were conti-
nents. For supposing, as we may fairly do, that the Earth's
crust is throughout of tolerably equal thickness, it is manifest
that such portions of it as become most depressed below the
average level, must have their inner surfaces most exposed
to the currents of molten matter circulating within, and will
therefore undergo a larger amount of what may be called
igneous denudation ; while, conversely, the withdrawal of the
inner surfaces from these currents where the Earth's crust is
most elevated, will cause a thickening more or less compens-
ating the aqueous denudation going on externally. Hence
those depressed areas over which the deepest oceans lie, being
gradually thinned beneath and not covered by much sedi-
mentary deposit above, will become areas of least resistance,
and will then begin to yield to the upward pressure of the
Earth's contents ; whence will result, throughout such areas,
long continued elevations, ceasing only when the reverse state
of things has been brought about. Whether this speculation

THE RHYTHM OF MOTION. 261

bo well or ill founded, docs not however affect the general
conclusion. Apart from it we have sufficient evidence that
geologic processes are rhythmical.

§ 85. Perhaps nowhere are the illustrations of rhythm
80 numerous and so manifest as among the phenomena of life.
Plants do not, indeed, usually show us any decided periodi-
cities, save those determined by day and night and by the
seasons. But in animals we have a great variety of move-
ments in which the alternation of opposite extremes goes on
with all degrees of rapidity. The swallowing of food is
effected by a wave of constriction passing along the oesopha-
gus ; its digestion is accompanied by a muscular action of the
stomach that is also undulatory ; and the peristaltic motion of
the intestines is of like nature. The blood obtained from this
food is propelled not in a uniform current but in pulses ; and
it is aerated by lungs that alternately contract and expand. All
locomotion results from oscillating movements : even where it
is apparently continuous, as in many minute forms, the mi-
croscope proves the vibration of cilia to be the agency by
which the creature is moved smoothly forwards.

Primary rhythms of the organic actions are compounded
with secondary ones of longer duration. These various
modes of activity have their recurring periods of increase and
decrease. "We see this in the periodic need for food, and in the
periodic need for repose. Each meal induces a more rapid
rhythmic action of the digestive organs; the pulsation of
the heart is accelerated ; and the inspirations become more
frequent. During sleep, on the contrary, these several
movements slacken. So that in the course of the twenty-
four hours, those small undulations of which the different
kinds of organic action are constituted, undergo one long
wave of increase and decrease, complicated with several
minor waves. Experiments have shown that there

ore still slower rises and falls of functional activity.
Waste and assimilation are not balanced by every meal, but

262 THE RHYTHM OF MOTION.

one or other maintains for some time a sligtt excess ; Bo that
a person in ordinary health is found to undergo an increase
and decrease of weight during recurring intervals of tolerable
equality. Besides these regular periods there are still longei
and comparatively irregular ones ; namely, those alternations
of greater and less vigour, which even healthy people expe-
rience. So inevitable are these oscillations that even men in
training cannot be kept stationary at their highest power, but
when they have reached it begin to retrograde. Fur-

ther evidence of rhythm in the vital movements is. fur-
nished by invalids. Sundry disorders are named from the
intermittent character of their symptoms. Even where the
periodicity is not very marked, it is mostly traceable. Patients
rarely if ever get uniformly worse ; and convalescents have
usually their days of partial relapse or of less decided ad-
vance.

Aggregates of living creatures illustrate the general truth
in other ways. If each species of organism be regarded as a
whole, it displays two kinds of rhythm. Life as it exists in
all the members of such species, is an extremely complex kind
of movement, more or less distinct from the kinds of move-
ment which constitute life in other species. In each indi-
vidual of the species, this extremely complex kind of move-
ment begins, rises to its climax, declines, • and ceases in
death. And every successive generation thus exhibits a wave
of that peculiar activity characterizing the species as a
whole. The other form of rhythm is to be traced in

that variation of number which each tribe of animals and
plants is ever undergoing. Throughout the unceasing con-
flict between the tendency of a species to increase and the
antagonistic tendencies, there is never an equilibrium : one
always predominates. In the case even of a cultivated plant
or domesticated animal, whefe artificial means are used to
maintain the supply at a uniform level, we still see that oscil>
lations of abundance and scarcity cannot be avoided. And
among the creatures uncared for by man, such oscillations

THE RHYTHM OF MOTION. 263

are usually more marked. After a race of organisms has
been greatly thinned by enemies or lack of food, its surviving
members become more favourably circumstanced than usual
During tbe decline in their numbers their food has grown
relatively more abundant ; while their enemies have diminish -
ed from want of prey. The conditions thus remain for
seme time favourable to their increase ; and they multiply
rapidly. By and by their food is rendered relatively scarce,
at the same time that their enemies have become more
numerous ; and the destropng influences being thus in excess,
their number begins to diminish again. Yet one

more rhythm, extremely slow in its action, may be traced in
the phenomena of Life, contemplated under their most general
aspect. The researches of palaoontologists show that there
have been going on, during the vast period of which our sedi-
mentary rocks bear record, successive changes of organic
forms. Species have appeared, become abundant, and then
disappeared. Genera, at first constituted of but few species,
have for a time gone on growing more multifonn ; and then
have begun to decline in the number of their subdi\Tsions :
leaving at last but one or two representatives, or none at all.
During longer epochs whole orders have thus arisen, culmin-
ated, and dwindled away. And even those wider divisions con-
taining many orders have similarly undergone a gradual rise,
a high tide, and a long- continued ebb. The stalked Crinoidea,
for example, which, during the carboniferous epoch, became
abundant, have almost disappeared : only a single species
being extant. Once a large family of molluscs, the Brachio-
poda have now become rare. The shelled Cephalopods, at
one time dominant among the inhabitants of the ocean, both in
number of forms and of individuals, are in our day nearly
extinct. And after an *' age of reptiles,** there has come an.
age in which reptiles have been in great measure supplanted
by mammals. Whether these vast rises and falls of different
kinds of life ever undergo anything approachingto repetitions,
(which they may possibly do in correspondence with thoKe

264

THE HHITHM OF MOTION.

vast cycles of elevation and subsidence that produce continenta
and oceans,) it is sufficiently clear that Life on the Earth has
not progressed uniformly, but in immense undulations.

§ 86. It is not manifest that the changes of consciousness
are in any sense rhythmical. Yet here, too, analysis proves
both that the mental state existing at any moment is not
uniform, but is decomposable into rapid oscillations ; and also
that mental states pass through longer intervals of increasing
and decreasing intensity.

Though while attending to any single sensation, or any
group of related sensations constituting the consciousness oi
an object, we seem to remain for the time in a persistent and
homogeneous condition of mind, a careful self-examination
shows that this apparently unbroken mental state is in truth
traversed by a number of minor states, in which various other
sensations and perceptions are rapidly presented and disappear.
From the admitted fact that thinking consists in the establish-
ment of relations, it is a necessary corollary that the main-
tenance of consciousness in any one state to the entire exclu-
sion of other states, would be a cessation of thought, that is, of
consciousness. So that any seemingly continuous feeling, say
of pressure, really consists of portions of that feeling perpetu-
ally recurring after the momentary intrusion of other feelings
and ideas — quick thoughts concerning the place where it is
felt, the external object producing it, its consequences, and
other things suggested by association. Thus there is going
on an extremely rapid departure from, and return to, that par-
ticular mentftl state which we regard as persistent. Besides
the evidence of rhythm in consciousness which direct analysis
thus affords, we may gather further evidence from the coitc-
lation between feeling and movement. Sensations and emotions
expend themselves in producing muscular contractions. If a
sensation or emotion were strictly continuous, there would be a
continuous discharge along those motor nerves acted upon. But
90 far as experiments with artificial stimuli enable us to judge,
a continuous discharge along the nerve leading to a muscle,

THE RHYTHM OF MOTION. 265

does not contract it : a broken discharge is required — a rapid
succession of shocks. Hence muscular contraction pre-supposes
that rhythmic state of consciousness which direct observation
discloses. A much more conspicuous rhythm, having

longer waves, is seen during the outflow of emotion into
dancing, poetry, and music. The current of mental energy
that shows itself in these modes of bodily action, is not con-
tinuous, but falls into a succession of pulses. The measure of
a dance is produced by the alternation of strong muscular
contractions with weaker ones ; and, save in measures of the
simplest order such as are found among barbarians and
children, this alternation is compounded with longer rises and
falls in the degree of muscular excitement. Poetry is a form of
speech which results when the emphasis is regularly recurrent ;
that is, when the muscular effort of pronunciation has de-
finite periods of greater and less intensity — periods that are
complicated with others of like nature answering to the suc-
cessive verses. Music, in still more various ways, exemplifies
the law. There are the recurring bars, in each of which there
is a primary and a secondary beat. There is the alternate
increase and decrease of muscular strain, implied by the
ascents and descents to the higher and lower notes — as-
cents and descents composed of smaller waves, breaking the
rises and falls of the larger ones, in a mode peculiar to each
melody. And then we have, further, the alternation of piano
and forte passages. That these several kinds of rhythm,
characterizing sesthetic expression, are not, in the common
sense of the word, artificial, but are intenser forms of an un-
dulatory movement habitually generated by feeling in its
bodily discharge, is shown by the fact that they are all trace-
able in ordinary speech ; which in every sentence has its
primary and secondary emphases, and its cadence containing
a chief rise and fall complicated with subordinate rises
and falls ; and which is accompanied by a more or less
oscillatory action of the limbs when the emotion is
great. Still longer undulations may be observed by

every one, in himself and in others, on occasions of extreme
13

2G6 THE KIIYTHM OF MOTION.

pleasure or extreme pain. ITote, in the first place, that pain
having its origin in bodily disorder, is nearly always percep-
t Ibly rhythmical. During hours in which it never actually
f cases, it has its variations of intensity — fits or paroxysms ; and
then after these hours of sufiering there usually come hours
of comparative ease. Moral pain has the Hke smaller and
larger waves. One possessed by intense grief does not utter
continuous moans, or shed tears with an equable rapidity ;
but these signs of passion come in recurring bursts. Then
after a time during which such stronger and weaker waves
of emotion alternate, there comes a calm — a time of compara-
tive deadness; to which again succeeds another interval,
when duU sorrovf . rises afresh into acute anguish, with its
series of paroxysms. Similarly in great delight, especially as
manifested by children who have its display less under control,
there are visible variations in the intensity of feeling shown —
fits of laughter and dancing about, separated by pauses in
which smiles, and other slight manifestations of pleasure,
suffice to discharge the lessened excitement. Nor are

there wanting evidences of mental undulations greater in
length than any of these — undulations which take weeks, or
months, or years, to complete themselves. We continually
hear of moods which recur at intervals. Yery many persona
have their epochs of vivacity and depression. There are periods
of industry following periods of idleness ; and times at which
particular subjects or tastes are cultivated with zeal, alternat-
ing with times at which they are neglected. Respecting
which slow oscillations, the only qualification to be made is,
that being afiected by numerous influences, they are com-
paratively irregular.

§ 87. In nomadic societies the changes of place, deter
mined as they usually are by exhaustion or failure of the
supply of food, are periodic ; and in many cases show a
recurrence answering to the seasons. Each tribe that has
oecome in some degree fixed in its locality, goes on increasing,

THE RHYTHM OF MOTION. 267

till under the pressures of unsatisfied .desires, there results
migration of some part of it to a new region — a process repeat-
ed at intervals. From sucli excesses of population, and such
successive waves of migration, come conflicts with other
tribes ; which are also increasing and tending to diffuse
themselves. This antagonism, like all others, results not in an
uniform motion, but in an intermittent one. "War, exhaus-
tion, recoil — peace, prosperity, and renewed aggression : — see
here the alternation more or less discernible in the military
activities of both savage and civilized nations. And irregular
as is this rhythm, it is not more so than the different sizes
of the societies, and the extremely involved causes of varia-
tion in their strengths, would lead us to anticipate.

Passing from external to internal changes, we meet with
this backward and forward movement under many forms. In
the currents of commerce it is especialty conspicuous.
Exchange during early times is almost wholly carried on at
fairs, held at long intervals in the chief centres of population.
The flux and reflux of people and commodities which each of
these exhibits, becomes more frequent as national develop-
ment leads to greater social activity. The more rapid rhythm
of weekly markets begins to supersede the slow rhythm of
fairs. And eventually the process of exchange becomes at
certain places so active, as to bring about daily meetings of
buyers and sellers — a daily wave of accumulation and dis-
tribution of cotton, or corn, or capital. If from
exchange we turn to production and consumption, we see
undulations, much longer indeed in their periods, but almost
equally obvious. Supply and demand are never completely
adapted to each other ; but each of them from time to time
in excess, leads presently to an excess of the other. Farmers
who have one season produced wheat very abundantly, are
disgusted with the consequent low price ; and next season,
sowing a much spialler quantity, bring to market a deficient
crop ; whence follows a converse effect. Consumption
undergoes parallel undulations that need not be specified.

268 THE RHYTHM OF MOTION.

The balancing of supplies between different districts, too,
entails analogous oscillations. A place at wbicb some neces-
sary of life is scarce, becomes a place to wbicb. currents of it
are set up from other places where it is relatively abundant ;
and these currents from all sides lead to a wave of accumula-
tion where they meet — a glut : whence follows a recoil — a
partial return of the currents. But the undulatory

character of these actions is perhaps best seen in the rises and
falls of prices. These, given in numerical measures which
may be tabulated and reduced to diagrams, show us in the
clearest manner how commercial movements are compounded
of oscillations of various magnitudes. The price of consols or
the price of wheat, as thus represented, is seen to undergo
vast ascents and descents whose highest and lowest points are
reached only in the course of years. These largest waves of
variation are broken by others extending over periods of
perhaps many months. On these again come others having
a week or two's duration. And were the changes marked in
greater detail, we should have the smaller undulations that
take place each day, and the still smaller ones which brokers
telegraph from hour to hour. The whole outline would show
a complication like that of a vast ocean-swell, on whose sur-
face there rise large billows, which themselves bear waves of
moderate size, covered by wavelets, that are roughened by a
minute ripple. Similar diagramatic representations of births,
marriages, and deaths, of disease, of crime, of pauperism,
exhibit involved conflicts of rhythmical motions throughout
society under these several aspects.

There are like characteristics in social changes of a more
complex kind. Both in England and among continental
nations, the action and reaction of political progress have
come to be generally recognized. IleligJon, besides its occa-
sional revivals of smaller magnitude, has its long periods of
exaltation and depression — generations of belief and self-mor-
tification, following generations of indifference and laxity.
There are poetical epochs, and epochs in which the sense of the

THE RHYTHM OF MOTION. 269

beautiful seems almost dormant. Philosophy,, after having
been awhile predominant, lapses for a long season into neglect ;
and then again slowly revives. Each science has its eras of
deductive reasoning, and its eras when attention is chiefly
directed to collecting and colligating facts. And how in such
minor but more obtrusive phenomena as those of fashion,
there are ever going on oscillations from one extreme to the
other, is a trite observation.

As may be foreseen, social rhythms well illustrate the
irregularity that results from combination of many causes.
Where the variations are those of one simple element in na-
tional life, as the supply of a particular commodity, we do in-
deed witness a retui-n, after many involved movements, to a
previous condition — the price may become what it was before :
implying a like relative abundance. But where the action is
one into which many factors enter, there is never a recur-
rence of exactly the same state. A political reaction never
brings round just the old form of things. The rationalism
of the present day differs widely from the rationalism of the
last century. And though fashion from time to time revives
extinct types of dress, these always re- appear with decided
modifications.

§ 88. The universality of this principle suggests a question
like that raised in foregoing cases. Rhythm being manifested
in all forms of movement, we have reason to suspect that it
is determined by some primordial condition to action in
general. The tacit implication is that it is deducible from
the persistence of force. This we shall find to be the fact.

When the prong of a tuning-fork is pulled on one side by
the finger, a certain extra tension is produced among its co-
hering particles ; which resist any force that draws them out
of their state of eqmlibrium. As much force as the finger
exerts in pulling the prong aside, so much opposing force is
brought into play among the cohering particles. Hence,
when the prong is liberated, it is urged back by a force equal

270 THE RHYTHM OF MOTION.

to that used in deflecting it. When, therefore, the prong
reaches its original position, the force impressed on it during
its recoil, has generated in it a corresponding amount of mo-
mentum— an amount of momentum nearly equivalent, that
is, to the force originally impressed (nearly, we must say,
because a certain portion has gone in communicating motion
to the air, and a certain other portion has been transformed
into heat). This momentum carries the prong beyond the
position of rest, nearly as far as it was originally dra^vn in
the reverse direction ; until at length, being gradually used
up in producing an opposing tension among the particles, it
is all lost. The opposing tension into which the expended
momentum has been transformed, then generates a second re-
coil ; and so on continuall}^ — the vibration eventually ceasmg
only because at each movement a certain amount of force
goes ia creating atmospheric and etherial undulations.
Now it needs but to contemplate this repeated action and re-
action, to see that it is, like every action and reaction, a
consequence of the persistence of force. The force exerted
by the finger in bending the prong cannot disappear.
Under what form then does it exist ? It exists under the
form of that cohesive tension which it has generated among
the particles. This cohesive tension cannot cease without an
equivalent result. What is its equivalent result ? The
momentum generated in the prong while being carried back
to its position of rest. This momentum too — what becomes
of it ? It must either continue as momentum, or produce
some correlative force of equal amount. It cannot continue
as momentum, since change of place is resisted by the cohe-
sion of the parts ; and thus it gradually disappears by being
transformed into tension among these parts. This is rc-
transformed into the equivalent momentum ; and so on con-
tinuously. If instead of motion tliat is directly anta-
gonized by the cohesion of matter, we consider motion through
space, the same truth presents itself under another form.
Though here no opposing force seems at work, and therefore

THE RHYTHM OF MOTION. 271

no cause of rhytlmi is apparent, yet its own accumnlatti)
momentum must eventually carry the moving body beyond
the body attracting it ; and so must become a force at vari-
ance with that which generated it. From this conflict,
rhythm necessarily results as in the foregoing case. The
force embodied as momentum in a given direction, cannot bo
destroyed ; and if it eventually disappears, it re-appears ii?
the reaction on the retarding body ; which begins afresh to
draw the now arrested mass back from its aphelion. The
only conditions under which there could be absence of rhythm
— the only conditions, that is, under which there could be a
continuous motion through space in the same straight line
for ever, would be the existence of an infinity void of every-
thing but the moving body. And neither of these conditions
can be represented in thought. Infinity is inconceivable ;
and so also is a motion which never had a commencement in
some pre-existing source of power.

Thus, then,, rhythm is a necessary characteristic of all
motion. Given the co-existence everywhere of antagonist
forces — a postulate which, as we have seen, is necessitated
by the form of our experience — and rhytlmi is an inevitable
corollary from the persistence of force.

CHAPTEH XI.

RECAPITULATION, CRITICISJI, AND RECOMMENCEMENT.

§ 89. Let lis pause awliile to consider liow far the con-
tents of tlie foregoing cliapters go towards forming a body
of knowledge sucli as was defined at tlie outset as constitut-
ing Pliilosopliy.

In respect of its generality, tlie proposition enunciated
and exemplified in eacli chapter, is of the required kind — is
a proposition transcending those class-limits which Science,
as currently understood, recognizes. ^^ The Indestructibility
of Matter " is a truth not belonging to mechanics more than
to chemistry, a truth assumed alike by molecular physics
and the physics that deals with sensible masses, a truth
which the astronomer and the biologist equally take for
granted. Not merely do those divisions of Science which
deal with the movements of celestial and terrestrial bodies
postulate '^ The Continuity of Motion,^' but it is no less pos-
tulated in the physicist's investigations into the phenomena
of light and heat, and is tacitly, if not avowedly, implied in
the generalizations of the higher sciences. So, too, " The
Persistence of Force,'' involved in each of the preceding
propositions, is co-extensive with them, as is also its corollary,
'^ The Persistence of Relations among Forces." These are
not truths of a high generality, but they are universal
truths. Passing to the deductions drawn from

them, we see the same thine:. That force is transformable.

EECAPITULATIONj CKITICISM^ AND EECOMMENCEMENT. 273

ftiid tliat between its correlates there exist quantitative equi-
valences^ are ultimate facts not to be classed witb those of me-
chanics^ or thermology^ or electricity^ or magnetism; but they
are illustrated throughout phenomena of every order^ up to
those of mind and society. Similarly, the law that motion fol-
lows the line of least resistance or the line of greatest traction,
or the resultant of the two, we found to be an all-pervading
law ; conformed to alike by each planet in its orbit, and by
the moving matters, aerial, liquid, and solid, on its surface
— conformed to no less by every organic movement and
process than by every inorganic movement and process.
And so likewise, in the chapter just closed, it has been
shown that rhythm is exhibited universally, from the slow
gyrations of double stars down to the inconceivably rapid
oscillations of molecules — from such terrestrial changes as
those of recurrent glacial epochs and gradually alternating
elevations and subsidences, down to those of the winds and
tides and waves ; and is no less conspicuous in the functions
of living organisms, from the pulsations of the heart up to
the paroxysms of the emotions.

Thus these truths have the character which constitutes
them parts of Philosophy, properly so called. They aro
truths which unify concrete phenomena belonging to all
divisions of Nature ; and so must be components of that
complete, coherent conception of things which Philosophy
seeks.

§ 90. But now what parts do these truths play in forming
such a conception ? Does any one of them singly convey
an idea of the Cosmos : meaning by this word the totality
of the manifestations of the Unknowable ? Do all of them
taken together yield us an adequate idea of this kind ? Do
they even when thought of in combination compose any-
thing like such an idea ? To each of these questions tho
answer must be — No.

Neither these truths nor any other such truths, separately

274 EECAPITULATION, CEITICISM, AJSD RECOMMENCEMENT.

OP jointly^ constitute tliat integrated knowledge in wliicli
only Pliilosopliy finds its goal. It has been supposed by
one thinker that when Science has succeeded in reducing all
more complex laws to some most simple law, as of molecular
action, knowledge will have reached its limit. Another
authority has tacitly asserted that all minor facts are so
merged in the major fact that the force everywhere iu
action is nowhere lost, that to express this is to express
" the constitution of the universe.''^ But either conclusion
implies a misapprehension of the problem.

For these are all analytical truths, and no analytical truth
— no number of analytical truths, will make up that syn-
thesis of thought Avhich alone can be an interpretation of
the synthesis of things. The decomposition of phenomena
into their elements, is but a preparation for understanding
phenomena in their state of composition, as actually mani-
fested. To have ascertained the laws of the factors is not
at all to have ascertained the laws of their co-operation.
The question is, not how any factor. Matter or Motion or
Force, behaves by itself, or under some imagined simple
conditions ; nor is it even how one factor behaves under the
complicated conditions of actual existence. The thing to
be expressed is the joint product of the factors under all its
various aspects. Only when we can formulate the total
process, have we gained that knowledge of it which Philo-
sophy aspires to. A clear comprehension of this matter is
important enough to justify some further exposition.

§ 91. Suppose a chemist, a geologist, and a biologist,
have given the deepest explanations furnished by their
respective sciences, of the processes going on in a burning
candle, in a region changed by earthquake, and in a grow-
ing plant. To the assertion that their explanations are not
the deepest possible, they will probably rejoin — "What
would you have ? What remains to bo said of combustion
when light and heat and the dissipation of substance have

EECAPiTULATIOl!T, CEITICISM^ AND EECOMMENCEMENT. 275

all been traced down to tlie liberation of molecular motion
as tlieir common cause ? "V\Tien all tbe actions accompany-
ing an eartliquake are explained as consequent upon the
slow loss of tbe Earth's internal heat, how is it possible to
go lower ? When the influence of light on the oscillations
of molecules has been proved to account for vegetal growth,
what is the imaginable further rationale ? You ask for a
synthesis. You say that knowledge does not end in the
resolution of phenomena into the actions of certain factors,
each conforming to ascertained laws ; but that the laws of
the factors having been ascertained, there comes the chief
problem — to show how from their joint action result tho
phenomena in all their complexity. Well, do not the above
interpretations satisfy this requirement ? Do we not, start-
ing with the molecular motions of the elements concerned
in combustion, build up synthetically an explanation of the
light, and the heat, and the produced gases, and the move-
ments of the produced gases? Do we not, setting out
from the still-continued radiation of its heat, construct by
synthesis a clear conception of the Earth's nucleus as con-
tracting, its crust as collapsing, as becoming shaken and
fissured and contorted and burst through by lava? ^jid
is it not the same with the chemical changes and accumula-
tion of matter in the growing plant ? ''

To all which the reply is, that the ultimate interpretation
to be reached by Philosophy, is a universal synthesis com-
prehending and consolidating such special syntheses. Tho
synthetic explanations which Science gives, even up to
the most general, are more or less independent of one
another. Though they may have like elements in them,
they are not united by the likeness of their essential
structures. Is it to be supposed that in the burning candle,
in the quaking Earth, and in the organism that is increas-
ing, the processes as wholes are unrelated to one another ?
If it is admitted that each of the factors concerned always
operates in conformity to a law, is it to be concluded that

276 KECAPITUIATION, CRITICISM^ AND KECOMMENCEMENT.

their co-operation conforms to no law? Tliese variou3
clianges, artificial and natural, organic and inorganic, wliicli
for convenience sake we distingaisli, are not from tlie
higliest point of view to be distinguislied ; for they are all
changes going on in the same Cosmos, and forming parts of
one vast transformation. The play of forces is essentially
the same in principle tliroughout the whole region explored
hy our intelligence ; and though, varying infinitely in their
proportions and combinations, they work out results every-
where more or less difi'erent, and often seeming to have no
kinship, yet there cannot but be among these results a
fundamental community. The question to be answered is
— what is the common element in the histories of all con-
crete processes ?

§ 92. To resume, then, we have now to seek a law of
composition of phenomena, co-extensive with those laws of
their components set forth in the foregoing chapters.
Having seen that matter is indestructible, motion con-
tinuous, and force persistent — having seen that forces are
everywhere undergoing transformation, and that motion, al-
ways following the line of least resistance, is invariably
rhythmic, it remains to discover the similarly-invariable
formula expressing the combined consequences of the actions
thus separately formulated.

. What must be the general character of such a formula?
It must be one that specifies the coui-se of the changes
undergone by both the matter and the motion. Every
transformation impHes re-arrangement of component parts;
and a definition of it, while saying what has happened to the
sensible or insensible portions of substance concerned, must
also say what has happened to the movements, sensible or
insensible, which the re-arrangement of parts implies. Fur-
ther, unless the transformation always goes on in the same
way and at the same rate, the formula must specify the con-
ditions under which it commences, ceases, and is reversed.

EECAPITULATION^ CRITICISM^ AND KECOMMENCEMENT. 277

Tbe law we seek^ tiierefore, must be tlie law of the con-
tinuoiLs redistribution of matter and motion. Absolute rest
and permanence do not exist. Every object^ no less than
the aggregate of all objects, undergoes from instant to
instant some alteration of state. Gradually or quickly it is
receiving motion or losing motion, wbile some or all of its
parts are simultaneously cbanging their relations to one
another. And the question to be answered is — ^What
dynamic principle, true of the metamorphosis as a whole
and in its details, expresses these ever-changing relations ?

This chapter has. served its purpose if it has indicated the
nature of the ultimate problem. The discussion on which
we are now to enter, may fitly open with a new presentation
of this problem, carrying with it the clear implication that a
Philosophy, rightly so-called, can come into existence only
by solving the problem.

CHAPTER Xn.

EVOLUTION AND DISSOLUTION.

§ 93. An entire liistory of anytliing must include its ap-
pearance out of the imperceptible and its disappearance into
tL.e imperceptible. Be it a single object or tlie whole uni-
verse^ any account wMcb. begins with it in a concrete formj
or leaves off with it in a concrete form^ is incomplete ; since
there remains an era of its knowable existence undescribed
and unexplained. Admitting, or rather asserting, that
knowledge is limited to the phenomenal, we have, by impli-
cation, asserted that the sphere of knowledge is co-extensive
with the phenomenal — co- extensive with all modes of the Un-
knowable that can affect consciousness. Hence, wherever
we now find Being so conditioned as to act on our senses,
there arise the questions — ^how came it thus conditioned ?
and how will it cease to be thus conditioned? Unless on the
assumption that it acquired a sensible form at the moment
of perception, and lost its sensible form the moment after
perception, it must have had an antecedent existence under
this sensible form, and will have a subsequent existence
under this sensible form. These preceding and succeeding
existences under sensible forms, are possible subjects of
knowledge; and knowledge has obviously not reached its
limits until it has united the past, present, and future
histories into a whole.

The sayings and doings of daily life imply more or less

EVOLUTION AND DISSOLUTION. 279

Bucli knowledge, actual or potential, of states wMcli have
goner before and of states wldcli will come after; and,
indeed, tlie greater part of our knowledge involves tlieso
elements. Knowing any man personally, implies having be-
fore seen bim under a shape much the same as his present
shape ; and knowing him simply as a man, implies the in-
ferred antecedent states of infancy, childhood, and youth.
Though the man^s future is not known specifically, it is
known generally : the facts that he will die and that his
body will decay, are facts which complete in outline tho
changes to be hereafter gone through by him. So with all
the objects around. The pre-existence under concrete forms
of the woollens, silks, and cottons we wear, we can trace
bome distance back. We are certain that our furniture
consists of matter which was aggregated by trees within
these few generations. Even of the stones composing tho
walls of the house, we are able to say that years or centuries
ago, they formed parts of some stratum imbedded in the
earth. Moreover, respecting the hereafter of the wearable
fabrics, the furniture, and the walls, we can assert thus
much, that they are all in process of decay, and in
periods of various lengths will lose their present coherent
shapes. This general information which all men

gain concerning the past and future careers of surround-
ing things. Science has extended, and continues unceas-
ingly to extend. To the biography of the individual
man, it adds an intra-uterine biography beginning with him
as a microscopic germ; and it follows out his ultimate
changes until it finds his body resolved into the gaseous
products of decomposition. Not stopping short at the
sheep^s back and the caterpillar's cocoon, it identifies in
wool and silk the nitrogenous matters absorbed by the
sheep and the caterpillar from plants. The substance
of a plant's leaves, in common with the wood from which
furnitui-e is made, it again traces back to the vegetal assi-
milation of gases from the air and of certain minerals from

280 EVOLUTION AND DISSOLUTION.

the soil. And inquiring whence came tlie stratum of stone
tliat was quarried to build tlie house,, it finds that this was
once a loose sediment deposited in an estuary or on the sea
bottom.

If, then, the past and the future of each object, is a
sphere of possible knowledge ; and if intellectual progress
consists largely, if not mainly, in widening our acquaint-
ance with this past and this future j it is obvious that we
have not acquired all the information within the grasp of
our intelligence until we can, in some way or other, express
the whole past and the whole future of each object and the
aggregate of objects. Usually able, as we are, to say of any
visible tangible thing how it came to have its present shape
and consistence ; we are fully possessed with the conviction
that, setting out abruptly as we do with some substance
which already had a concrete form, our history is incom-
plete : the thing had a history preceding the state with
which we started. Hence our Theory of Things, considered
individually or in their totality, is confessedly imperfect so
long as any past or future portions of their sensible exist-
ences are unaccounted for.

May it not be inferred that Philosophy has to formulate
this passage from the imperceptible into the perceptible, and
again from the perceptible into the imperceptible ? Is it not
clear that this general law of the redistribution of matter
and motion, which we lately saw is required to unify the
various kinds of changes, must also be one that unifies tho
successive changes which sensible existences, separately and
together, pass through ? Only by some formula combining
these characters can knowledge be reduced to a coherent
whole.

§ 94. Already in tho foregoing paragraphs the outline of
such a formula is foreshadowed. Already in recognizing tho
fact that Science, tracing back the genealogies of various
objects, finds their components were once in diffused states,

EVOLUTION AND DISSOLUTION. 281

and pursuing tlieir histories forwards, finds difijisod states
will be again assumed by tbem^ we have recognized the fact
that the formula must be one comprehending the two oppo-
site processes of concentration and diffusion. And already
in thus describing the general nature of the formula^ wo
have approached a specific expression of it. The change
from a diffused^ imperceptible state^ to a concentrated^ per-
ceptible statOj is an integration of matter and concomitant
dissipation of motion ; and the change from a concentrated,
perceptible state^ to a diffused^ imperceptible state, is an
absorption of motion and concomitant disintegration of
matter. These are truisms. Constituent parts" cannot
aggregate without losing some of their relative motion ; and
they cannot separate without more relative motion being
given to them. We are not concerned here with any motion
which the components of a mass have with respect to other
masses : we are concerned only with the motion they have
with respect to one another. Confining our attention to this
internal motion, and to the matter possessing it, the axiom
which we have to recognize is that a progressing consohda-
tion involves a decrease of internal motion ; and that in-
crease of internal motion involves a progressing unconsoli-
dation.

When taken together, the two opposite processes thus
formulated constitute the history of every sensible existence,
under its simplest form. Loss of motion and consequent
integration, eventually followed by gain of motion and con-
sequent disintegration — see here a statement comprehensive
of the entire series of changes passed through : comprehen-
sive in an extremely general way, as any statement which
holds of sensible existences at large must be ; but still,
cotnprchensive in the sense that all the changes gone
through fall within it. This will probably be thought too
sweeping an assertion ; but we shall quickly find it justified.

5 95. For hero we have to note the further all-important

282 EVOLUTION AND DISSOLUTION.

factj that every cTiange undergone by every sensible exist-
ence, is a change in one or other of these two opposite
directions. Apparently an aggregate which has passed out
of some originally discrete state into a concrete state, there-
after remains for an indefinite period without undergoing
farther integration, and without beginning to disintegrate.
But this is untrue. All things are growing or decaying,
accumulating matter or wearing away, integrating or disin-
tegrating. All things are varying in their temperatures,
contracting or expanding, integrating or disintegrating.
Both the quantity of matter contained in an aggregate, and
the quantity of motion contained in it, increase or decrease;
and increane or decrease of either is an advance towards
greater diffusion or greater concentration. Continued losses
or gains of substance, however slow, imply ultimate disap-
pearance or indefinite enlargement ; and losses or gains of
the insensible motion we call heat, will, if continued, pro-
duce complete integration or complete disintegration. The
sun's rays falling on a cold mass, augmenting the molecular
motions throughout it, and causing it to occupy more space,
are beginning a process which if carried far will disintegrate
the mass into liquid, and if carried farther will disintegrate
the liquid into gas ; and the diminution of bulk which a
•volume of gas undergoes as it parts with some of its mole-
cular motion, is a diminution which, if the loss of molecular
motion proceeds, will presently be followed by liquefaction
and eventually by solidification. And since there is no such
thing as an absolutely constant temperature, the necessary
inference is that every aggregate is at every moment pro-
gressing towards cither greater concentration or greater
diffusion.

Not only does all change consisting in the addition or sub-
traction of matter come under this head; and not only does
this head include^r^l change called thermal expansion or
contraction; but it is also, in a general way, compreheusivo
of all change distinguished as transposition. Every internal

EVOLUTION AND DISSOLUTION. 283

redistribution wMch. leaves tlie component molecules or
the constituent portions of a mass differently placed with
respect to one another, is sure to be at the same time a
progress towards integration or towards disintegration — ^is
sure to have altered in some degree the total space occupied.
For when the parts have been moved relatively to ono
another, the chances are infinity to one that their average
distances from the common centre of the aggregate are no
longer the same. Hence whatever be the special character
of the redistribution — ^be it that of superficial accretion or
detachment, be it that of general expansion or contraction,
be it that of re-arrangement, it is always an advance in
integration or disintegration. It is always this, though it
may at the same time be something further.

§ 96. A general idea of these universal actions under
their simplest aspects having been obtained, we may now
consider them under certain relatively complex aspects.
Changes towards greater concentration or greater diffusion,
nearly always proceed after a manner much more involved
than that above described. Thus far we have supposed ono
or other of the two opposite processes to go on alone — ^we
have supposed an aggregate to bo either losing motion and
integrating or gaining motion and disintegrating. But
though it is true that every change furthers one or other of
these processes, it is not true that either process is ever
wholly unqualified by the other. For each aggregate is at
all times both gaiuing motion and losing motion.

Every mass from a grain of sand to a planet, radiates heat
to other masses, and absorbs heat radiated by other masses;
and in so far as it does the one it becomes integrated, while
in so far as it does the other it becomes disintegrated.
Ordinarily in inorganic objects this double process works
but unobtrusive effects^ Only in a few cases, among which
that of a cloud is the most familiar, does the conflict
produce rapid and marked transformations. One of these

284 EYOLUTION AND DISSOLUTION.

floating bodies of vapour expands and dissipates, if tlie
amount of molecular motion it receives from tlie Sun and
Earth, exceeds tliat wMcli it loses by radiation into space and
towards adjacent surfaces; wliile, contrariwise, if, drifting
over cold mountain tops, it radiates to tliem mucli more
heat than it receives, the loss of molecular motion is followed
by increasing integration of the vapour, ending in the
aggregation of it into liquid and the fall of rain, Here, as
elsewhere, the integration or the disintegration is a differ-
ential result.

In living aggregates, and more especially those classed as
animals, these conflicting processes go on with great activity
under several forms. There is not merely what we may call
the passive integration of matter, that results in inanimate
objects from simple molecular attractions ; but there is an
active integration of it under the form of food. In addition to
that passive superfici^il disintegration which inanimate ob-
jects suffer from external agents, animals produce in them-
selves active internal disintegration, by absorbing such
agents into their substance. "While, like inorganic aggre-
gates, they passively give off and receive motion, they are
also active absorbers of motion latent in food, and active ex-
penders of that motion. But notwithstanding this compli-
cation of the two processes, and the immense exaltation of
the conflict between them, it remains true that there is
always a differential progress towards either integration or
disintegration. During the earlier part of the cycle of
changes, the integration predominates — ^there goes on what
we call growth. The middle part of the cycle is usually
characterized, not by equiHbrium between the integrating
and disintegrating processes, but by alternate excesses of
them. And the cycle closes with a period in which the dis-
integration, beginning to predominate, eventually puts a
stop to integration, and undoes what integration had origi-
nally done. At no moment are assimilation and waste so
balanced that no increase or decrease of mass is going on.

EVOLUTION AND DISSOLUTION. 285

Even in cases where one part is growing while other parts
are dwindling, and even in cases where dififerent parts aro
differently exposed to external sources of motion so that
some are expanding while others are contracting, the truth
still holds. For the chances are infinity to one against
these opposite changes balancing one another; and if they
do not balance one another, the aggregate as a whole is
integrating or disintegrating.

Everywhere and to the last, therefore, the change at any
moment going on forms a part of one or other of the two
processes. "While the general history of every aggregate is
definable as a change from a diffused imperceptible state to
a concentrated perceptible state, and again to a diffused im-
perceptible state; every detail of the history is definable aa
a part of either the one change or the other. This, then,
must be that universal law of redistribution of matter and
motion, which serves at once to unify the seemingly diverse
groups of changes, as well as the entire course of each group.

§ 97. The processes thus everywhere in antagonism, and
everywhere gaining now a temporary and now a more or less
permanent triumph the one over the other, we call Evolution
and Dissolution. Evolution under its simplest and most
general aspect is the integration of matter and concomitant
dissipation of motion; while Dissolution is the absorption. of
motion and concominant disintegration of matter.

These titles are by no means all that is desirable; or
rather we may say that while the last answers its purpose
tolerably well, the first is open to grave objections. Evolu-
tion has other meanings, some of which are incongruous
with, and some even directly opposed to, the meaning hero
given to it. The evolution of a gas is literally an absorp-
tion of motion and disintegration of matter, which is exactly
the reverse of that which we here call Evolution — ^is that
which we here call Dissolution. As ordinarily understood,,
to evolve is to unfold, to open and expand, to throw out, to

286 EVOLUTION AND DISSOLUTION.

emit; whereas as wo understand it^ tlio act of evolving,
tliougli it implies increase of a concrete aggregate, and in
so far an expansion of it, implies tliat its component matter
lias passed from a more diffused to a more concentrated
state — ^has contracted. Tlie antithetical word Involution
would mucli more truly express tlie nature of tlie process ;
and would, indeed, describe better tlie secondary characters
of the process which we shall have to deal with presently.
We are obliged, however, notwithstanding the liabilities to
confusion that must result from these unlike and even con-
tradictory meanings, to use Evolution as antithetical to Dis-
solution. The word is now so widely recognized as signify-
ing, not, indeed, the general process above described, but
sundry of the most conspicuous varieties of it, and certain of
its secondary but most remarkable accompaniments, that wo
cannot now substitute another word. All we can do is
carefully to define the interpretation to be given to it.

"While, then, we shall by Dissolution everywhere mean the
process tacitly implied by its ordinary meaning — the ab-
sorption of motion and disintegration of matter ; we shall
everywhere mean by Evolution, the process which is always
an integration of matter and dissipation of motion, but
which, as we shall now see^ is in most cases much more
than this.

CHAPTER Xm.

SIMPLE AND COMPOUND EVOLUTION.

§ 98. Wliere the only forces at work are those directly
tending to produce aggregation or diffusion, the whole his-
tory of an aggregate will comprise no more than the ap-
proaches of its components towards their common centre
and their recessions from their common centre. The process
of Evolution, including nothing beyond what was described
at the outset of the last chapter, will be simple.

Again, in cases where the forces which cause movements
towards a common centre are greatly in excess of all other
forces, any changes additional to those constituting aggre-
gation will be comparatively insignificant — there will be
integration scarcely at all modified by further kinds of re-
distribution.

Or if, because of the smallness of the mass to be integrated,
or because of the little motion the mass receives from with-
out in return for the motion it loses, the integration proceeds
rapidly; there will similarly be wrought but insignificant
effects on the integrating mass by incident forces, even
though these are considerable.

But when, conversely, the integration is but slow; either
because the quantity of motion contained in the aggregate
is relatively great; or because, though the quantity of
motion which each part possesses is not relatively great, the
large size of the aggregate prevents easy dissipation of the
motion; or because, though motion is rapidly lost more

288 SIMPLE AND COMPOUND EVOLUTION.

motion is rapidly received; then, otter forces will cause
in tlie aggregate appreciable modifications. Along witli tlia
change constituting integration, there will take place sup-
plementary changes. Tho Evolution, instead of beino*
simple, will be compound.

The several propositions thus briefly enunciated require
some explanation.

§ 99. So long as a body moves freely through space,
every force that acts on it produces an equivalent in the
shape of some change in- its motion. No matter how high
its velocity, the slightest lateral traction or resistance causes
it to deviate from its line of movement — causes it to move
towards the new source of traction or away from the new
source of resistance, just as much as it would do had it no
other motion. And the effect of the perturbing influence
goes on accumulating in the ratio of the squares of the times
during which its action continues uniform. This same body,
however, will, if it is united in certain ways with other
bodies, cease to be moveable by small incident forces.
When it is held feist by gravitation or cohesion, these
small incident forces, instead of giving it some relative
motion through space, are otherwise dissipated.

What hero holds of masses, holds, in a qualified way, of
the sensible parts of masses, and of molecules. As the
sensible parts of a mass, and the molecules of a mass, are,
by virtue of their aggregation, not perfectly free, it is not
true of each of them, as of a body moving through space,
that every incident force produces an equivalent change of
position : part of the force goes in working other changes.
But in proportion as the parts or the molecules are feebly
bound together, incident forces efiect marked re-arrange*
ments among them. At tho one extreme, where the
integration is so slight that the parts, sensible or insensible,
are almost independent, they are ahnost completely amen-
able to every additional action; and along with tho con-

SIMPLE AND COMPOUND EVOLtTTIO!!. 289

centetion going on there go on other re-distributlons.
Contrariwise, where the parts have approached within such
small distances that what wo call the attraction of cohesion
is great, additional actions, unless intense, cease to have
much power to cause secondary re-arrangements. The
firmly-united parts no longer readily change their relative
positions in obedience to small perturbing influences ; but
each small perturbing influence usually does little or nothing
more than temporarily modify the insensible molecular
motions.

, How may we best express this difierence in the most
general terms ? An aggregate that is widely difi'used, or but
little integrated, is an aggregate that contains a large quantity
of motion — actual or potential or both. An aggregate that
has become completely integrated or dense, is one that con-
tains comparatively little motion: most of the motion its
parts once had has been lost during the integration that has
rendered it dense. Hence, other things equal, in propor-
tion to the quantity of motion which an aggregate contains
will be the quantity of secondary change in the arrangement
of its parts that accompanies the primary change in their
an-angement. Hence also, other things equal, in proportion to
the time during which the internal motion is retained, will be
the quantity of this secondary re-distribution that accompanies
the primary re-distribution. It matters not how these con-
ditions are fulfilled. Whether the internal motion continues
great because the components are of a kind that will not
readily aggregate, or because suiTOunding conditions pre-
vent them from parting with their motion, or because the
loss of their motion is impeded by the size of the aggregate
they form, or because they directly or indirectly obtaiL,
more motion in place of that which they lose ; it through-
out remains true that much retained internal motion mus*
render secondary re-distributions facile, and that long re-
tention of it must make possible an accumulation of such
Bocondary re-distributions. Conversely, the non-fulfJmout of
14

290 SIMPLE AND COMPOUND EVOLUTION.

these conditions,, however caused^ entails opposite results.
Be it tliat tlie components of tlie aggregate have special
aptitudes to integrate quickly, or be it that the smallness of
the aggregate formed of them permits the easy escape of
their motion, or be it that they receive little or no motion
in exchange for that which they part with ; it alike holds
that but little secondary re- distribution can accompany the
primary re-distribution constituting their integration.

These abstract propositions will not be fully understood
without illustrations. Let us, before studying simple and
compound Evolution as thus determined, contemplate a few
cases in which the quantity of internal motion is artificially
changed, and note the effects on the re-arrangement of
parts.

§ 100. We may fitly begin with a familiar experience,
introducing the general principle under a rude but easily
comprehensible form. When a vessel has been filled to the
brim with loose fragments, shaking the vessel causes them
to settle down into less space, so that more may be put in.
And when among the fragments there are some of much
greater specific gravity than the rest, these, in the course of
a prolonged shaking, find their way to the bottom. Wliat
now is the meaning of such results, when expressed in
general terms ? "We have a group of units acted on by an
incident force — the attraction of the Earth. So long as
these units are not agitated, this incident force produces no
changes in their relative positions ; agitate them, and im-
mediately their loose arrangement passes into a more com-
pact arrangement. Again, so long as they are not agitated,
the incident force cannot separate the heavier units from tho
lighter; agitate them, and immediately the heavier units
begin to segregate. Mechanical disturbances of

more minute kinds, acting on the parts of much denser ag-
gregates, produce analogous cfiects. A piece of iron which,
when it leaves the workshop, is fibrous in structure, be-

SIMPLE AND COMPOUND EVOLUTION* 2^1

comes crystalline if exposed to a perpetual jar. The polar
forces mutually exercised by tlie atoms, fail to change tlie
disorderly arrangement into an orderly arrangement wlule
the atoms are relatively quiescent ; but these fSrces succeed
in re-arranging them when the atoms are kept in a state of
intestine agitation. Similarly, the fact that a bar of steel
suspended in the magnetic meridian and repeatedly struck,
becomes magnetized, is ascribed to a re-arrangement of par-
ticles that is produced by the magnetic force of the Earth
when vibrations are propagated through them, but is not
otherwise produced. Now imperfectly as these

cases parallel the mass of those we are considering, they
nevertheless serve roughly to illustrate the effect which
adding to the quantity of motion an aggregate contains, has
in facilitating re-arrangement of. its parts.

More fully illustrative are the instances in which, by arti-
ficially adding to or subtracting from that molecular motion
which we call its heat, we give an aggregate increased or
diminished facility of re-arranging its molecules. The pro-
cess of tempering steel or annealing glass, shows us that
internal re-distribution is aided by insensible vibrations, as
w^e have just seen it to be by sensible vibrations. When
some molten glass is dropped into water, and when its out-
side is thus, by sudden solidification, prevented from par-
taking in that contraction which the subsequent cooling of
the inside tends to produce; the units are left in such a
state of tension, that the mass flies into fragments if a small
portion of it be broken off. But if this mass be kept for a
day or two at a considerable heat, though a heat not suffi-
cient to alter its form or produce any sensible diminution of
hardness, this extreme brittleness * disappears : the com-
ponent particles being thrown into greater agitation, the
tensile forces are enabled to re-arrange them into a state of
equilibrium. Much more conspicuously do we see

tlie effect of the insensible motion called heat, where the
re-arrangement of parts taking place is that of visible segre^

292 SIMPLE AND COMPOUND EVOLUTION.

gation. An instance is furnislied by the subsidence of fine
precipitates. These sink down very slowly from solutions
that are cold ; while warm solutions deposit them with com>
parative rapidity. That is to say_, exalting the molecular
oscillation throughout the mass, allows the suspended
particles to separate more readily from the particles of
fluid. The influence of heat on chemical changes

is so familiar, that examples are scarcely needed. Be the
substances concerned gaseous, liquid, or solid, it equally holds
that their chemical unions and disunions are aided by rise
of temperature. Affinities which do not suffice to effect the
re-arrangement of mixed units that are in a state of feeble
agitation, suffice to effect it when the agitation is raised to a
certain point. And so long as this molecular motion is not
great enough to prevent those chemical o^^hesions which the
affinities tend to produce, increase of it gives increased faci-
lity of chemical re-arrangement.

Another class of facts may be adduced which, though not
apparently, are really illustrative of the same general truth.
Other things equal, the liquid form of matter implies a
greater quantity of contained motion than the solid form —
the liquidity is itself a consequence of such greater quantity.
Hence, an aggregate made up partly of liquid matter and
partly of solid matter, contains a greater quantity of motion
than one which, otherwise like it, is made up wholly of
solid matter. . It is inferable, then, that a liquid-solid
aggregate, or, as we commonly call it, a plastic aggregate,
will admit of internal redistribution with comparative faci-
lity ; and the inference is verified by experience. A magma,
of unlike substances ground up with water, while it con-
tinues thin allows a settlement of its heavier components — a
separation of them from the lighter. As the water evapo-
rates this separation is impeded, and ceases when the
magma becomes very thick. But even when it has reached
the semi-solid state in which gravitation fails to cause
further segregation of its mixed components, other forces

WMPLE AND COMPOUND EVOLUTION, 293

may still continue to produce segregation : witness tlie fact
to wliicli attention was first dra'wn by Mr. Babbage, tbat
wlien tlie pasty mixture of ground flints and kaolin^ pre-
pared for the manufacture of porcelain^ is kept some time,
it becomes gritty and unfit for use, in consequence of tbe
particles of silica separating tbemselyes from the rest, and
uniting together in grains; or witness the fact known to
every housewife, that in long-kept currant-jelly the sugar
takes the shape of imbedded crystals.

ISTo matter then under what form the motion contained by
an aggregate exists — ^be it mere mechanical agitation, or the
mechanical vibrations such as produce sound, be it mole-
cular motion absorbed from without, or the constitutional
molecular motion of some component liquid, the same truth
holds throughout. Incident forces work secondary re-distri-
butions easily when the contained motion is large in quan-
tity ; and work them with increasing difficulty as the con-
tained motion diminishes.

§ 101. Yet another class of facts that fall within the
same generalization, little as they seem related to it, must
be indicated before proceeding. They are those presented
by certain contrasts in chemical stability. Speaking gene-
rally, stable compounds contain comparatively little mole-
cular motion ; and in proportion as the contained molecular
motion is great the instability is great.

The common and marked illustration of this to be first
named, is that chemical stability decreases as temperature
increases. Compounds of which the elements are strongly
anited and compounds of which the elements are feebly
united, are alike in this, that raising their heats or increasing
the quantities of their contained molecular motion, dimi-
aishes the strengths of the unions of their elements ; and by
continually adding to the quantity of contained molecular
motion, a point is in each case reached at which the
•jhemical union is destroyed. That is to say, the re-distribu*

294. SIMPLE AND COMPOUND EVOLUTION.

tion of matter wMcIl constitutes simple cTiemical decompo-
sition, is easy in proportion as the quantity of contained
motion is great. Tlie like holds with double de-

compositions. Two compounds, A B and C D, mingled
together and kept at a low temperature, may severally
remain unchanged — the cross affinities between their com-
ponents may fail to cause re-distribution. Increase the heat
of the mixture, or add to the molecular motion throughout
it, and re-distribution takes place ; ending in the formation
of the compounds, A C and B D.

Another chemical truth having a like imphcation, is
that chemical elements which, as they ordinarily exist,
contain much motion, have combinations less stable than
those of which the elements, as they ordinarily exist, contain
little motion. The gaseous form of matter implies a rela-
tively large amount of molecular motion; while the solid
form implies a relatively small amount of molecular motion.
What are the characters of their respective compounds?
The compounds which the permanent gases form with ono
another, cannot resist high temperatures : most of them are
easily decomposed by heat; and at a red heat, even the
stronger ones yield up their components. On the other
hand, the chemical unions between elements that are solid
except at very high temperatures, are extremely stable. In
many, if not indeed in most, cases, such combined elements
are not separable by any heat we can produce.

There is, again, the relation, which appears to have a
kindred meaning, between instability and amount of com-
position. ^' In general, the molecular heat of a compound
increases with the degree of complexity.'' With increase of
complexity there also goes increased facility of decomposi-
tion. Whence it follows that molecules which contain
much motion in virtue of their complexity, are those of
which the components are most readily re-distributed. This
holds not only of the complexity resulting from the union of
saveral unlike elements ; but it holds also of the complexity

SIMPLE AND COMPOUND EVOLUTION. 2(^5

resulting from the union of tlie same elements in liiglicr
multiples. Matter lias two solid states, distinguislied as
crystalloid and colloid ; of wMcli tlie first is due to union of
tlie individual atoms or molecules, and tlie second to tlio
union of groups of such, individual atoms or molecules ; and
of which the first is stable and the second unstable.

But the most striking and conclusive illustration is fur-
nished by the combinations into which nitrogen enters.
These have the two characters of being specially unstable
and of containing specially great quantities of motion. A
recently-ascertained peculiarity of nitrogen, is, that instead
of giving out heat when it combines with other elements, it
absorbs heat. That is to say, besides carrying with it into
the liquid or solid compound it forms, the motion which
previously constituted it a gas, it takes up additional
motion ; and where the other element with which it unites
is gaseous, the molecular motion proper to this, also, is
locked up in the compound. Now these nitrogen-com-
pounds are unusually prone to decomposition ; and the de-
compositions of many of them take place with extreme
violence. All our explosive substances are nitrogenous —
the most terribly destructive of them all, chloride of nitro-
gen, being one which contains the immense quantity of
motion proper to its component gases, plus a certain further
quantity of motion.

Clearly these general chemical truths, are parts of the
more general physical truth we are tracing out. We see
in them that what holds of sensible aggregates, holds also
of the insensible aggregates we call molecules. Like the
aggregates formed of them, these ultimate aggregates be-
come more or less integrated according as they lose or gain
motion ; and like them also, according as they contain, much
or little motion, they are liable to undergo secondary re-dis-
tributions of parts along with the primary re-distribution.

§ 102. And now having got this general principle clearly

298 SIMPLE AND COMPOUND EVOLUTION.

into view, let us go on to observe how, in conformity with
it. Evolution becomes, according to the conditions, either
simple or compound.

If a little sal-ammoniac, or other volatile solid, be heated,
it is disintegrated by the absorbed molecular motion, and
rises in gas. When the gas so produced, coming in con-
tact with a cold surface, loses its excess of molecular motion,
integration takes place — the substance assumes the form of
crystals. This is a case of simple evolution. The process
of concentration of matter and dissipation of motion does
not here proceed in a gradual manner — does not pass
through stages occupying considerable periods; but the
molecular motion which reduced it to the gaseous state
being dissipated, the matter passes suddenly to a com-
pletely solid state. The result is that along with this
primary re-distribution there go on no appreciable secondary
re-distributions. Substantially the same thing holds with
crystals deposited from solutions. Loss of that molecular
motion which, down to, a certain point, keeps the molecules
from uniting, and sudden solidification when the loss goes
below that point, occur here as before ; and here as before,
the absence of a period during which the molecules are
partially free and gradually losing their freedom, is accom-
panied by the absence of supplementary re-arrangements.

Mark, conversely, what happens when the concentration
is slow. A gaseous mass losing its heat, and undergoing a
consequent decrease of bulk, is not subject only to this
change which brings its parts nearer to their common
centre, but also to many simultaneous changes. The great
quantity of molecular motion contained in it, giving, as we
have seen that it must, great molecular mobility, renders
every part sensitive to every incident force ; and, as a result^
its parts have various motions besides that implied by their
progressing integration. Indeed these secondary motions
which we know as currents, are so important and conspicuous
as quite to subordinate the primary motion. Sup-

emPLE A^'D COMrOUND EVOLUTION. 297

pose tliat presently, the loss of molecular motion has reached
that point at which the gaseous state can no longer bo
maintained, and condensation follows. Under their more
closely-united form, the parts of the aggregate display,
to a considerable degree, the same phenomena as before.
The molecular motion and accompanying molecular mobility
implied by the liquid state, permit easy re-arrangement;
and hence, along with further contraction of volume, con-
sequent on further loss of motion, there go on rapid and
marked changes in the relative positions of parts — local
streams produced by slight disturbing forces. But

now, assuming the substance to be formed of molecules that
have not those peculiarities leading to the sudden inte-
gration which we call crystallization, what happens as the
molecular motion further decreases ? The liquid thickens
— its parts cease to be relatively moveable among ono
another with ease ; and the transpositions caused by feeble
incident forces become comparatively slow. Little by little
the currents are stopped, but the mass still continues modi-
fiable by stronger incident forces. Gravitation makes it
bend or spread out when not supported on all sides ; and it
may easily be indented. As it cools, however, it . continues
to grow stiffer as we say — less capable of having its parts
changed in their relative positions. And eventually,
further loss of heat rendering it quite hard, its parts are
no longer appreciably re-arrangeable by any save violent
actions. ^

Among inorganic aggregates, then, secondary re-distribu-
tions accompany the primary re-distribution, throughout the
whole process of concentration, where this is gradual.
During the gaseous and liquid stages, the secondary re-dis-
tributions, rapid and extensive as they are, leave no traces—
the molecular mobility being such as to negative the fixed
arrangement of parts we call structure. On approaching
solidity we arrive at a condition called plastic, in which re-
distributions can still bo made, though much less easily;

298 SIMPLE AND COMPOUND EVOLUTION.

and in wliicli, being changeable less easily, tbey Lave a
certain persistence — a persistence wbicli can, however, be-
come decided, only where further solidification stops further
re-distribution.

Here we see, in the first place, what are the conditions
under which Evolution instead of being simple becomes
compound, while we see, in the second place, how the com-
pounding of it can be carried far only under conditions
more special than any hitherto contemplated ; since, on the
one hand, a large amount of secondary re-distribu4ion is pos-
sible only where there is a great quantity of contained
motion, and, on the other hand, these re-distributions can
have permanence only where the contained motion has be-
come small — opposing conditions which seem to negative
any large amount of permanent secondary re-distribution.

§ 103. And now we are in a position to observe how these
apparently contradictory conditions are reconciled; and
how, by the reconciliation of them, permanent secondary re-
distributions immense in extent are made possible. We
shall appreciate the distinctive peculiarity of the aggregates
classed as organic, in which Evolution becomes so highly
compounded ; and shall see that this peculiarity consists in
the combination of matter into a form embodying an enor-
mous amount of motion at the same time that it has a great
degree of concentration.

Fop notwithstanding its semi-solid consistence, organic
matter contains molecular motion locked up in each of tho
ways above contemplated separately. Let us note its several
constitutional traits. Three out of its four chief

components are gaseous ; and in their uncombined states tho
gases united in it have so much molecular motion that they
are incondensible. Hence as the characters of elements,
though disguised, cannot be absolutely lost in combinations,
it is to be inferred that the protein-molecule concentrates a
comparatively largo amount of motion in a small space.

BIMPLE AND COMPOUND EVOLUTION, 29S

And since many equivalents of tliese gaseous elements unite
in one of tliese protein-molecules^ tliere must be in it a large
quantity of relative motion in addition to that wliicli the
ultimate atoms possess. Moreover, organic matter

has the peculiarity that its molecules are aggregated
into the colloid and not into the crystalloid arrangement ;
forming, as is supposed, clusters of clusters which have
movements in relation to one another. Here,* then, '
is a further mode in which molecular motion is in-
cluded. Yet again, these compounds of which
the essential parts of organisms are built, are nitro-
genous ; and we have lately seen it to be a peculiarity of
nitrogenous compounds, that instead of giving out heat
during their formation they absorb heat. To all the mole-
cular motion possessed by gaseous nitrogen, is added more
motion; and the whole is concentrated in solid pro-
tein. Organic aggregates are very generally dis-
tinguished, too, by having much insensible motion in a
free state — the motion we call heat. Though in many cases
the quantity of this contained insensible motion is incon-
siderable, in other cases a temperature greatly above that
of the environment is constantly maintained. Onco
more, there is the still larger quantity of motion embodied by
the water that permeates organic matter. It is this which,
giving to the water its high molecular mobility, gives
mobility to the organic molecules partially suspended in it ;
and preserves that plastic condition which so greatly facili-
tates re-distribution.

From these several statements, no adequate idea can bo
formed of the extent to which living organic substance is
thus distinguished from other substances having like sen-
sible forms of aggregation. But some approximation to such
an idea may be obtained by contrasting the bulk occupied
by this substance, with the bulk which its constituents would
occupy if uncombined. An accurate comparison cannot bo
made in the present state of science. What expansion would

300 SIMPLE AND COMPOUND EVOLUTION.

occur if the constituents of the nitrogenous compounds could
be divorced without the addition of motion from without, is
too complex a question to be answered. But respecting
the constituents of that which forms some four-fifths of the
total weight of an ordinary animal — ^its water — a tolerably
definite answer can be given. Were the oxygen and hydro-
gen of water to lose their affinitieSj and were no molecular
motion supplied to them beyond that contained in water
at blood-heat, they would assume a volume twenty times that
of the water.* AVhether protein under like conditions would
expand in a greater or a less degree, must remain an open
question ; but remembering the gaseous nature of three out
of its four chief components, remembering the above-
named peculiarity of nitrogenous compounds, remembering
the high multiples and the colloidal form, we may con-
clude that the expansion would be great. We shall not
be far wrong, therefore, in saying that the elements of the
human body if suddenly disengaged from one another,
would occupy a score times the space they do : the move-
ments of their atoms would compel this wide diffusion.
Thas the essential characteristic of living orgamc matter,
is that it unites this large quantity of contained motion with
a degree of cohesion that permits temporary fixity of ar-
rangement.

§ 104. Further proofs that the secondary re-distributions
which make Evolution compound, depend for their possibility
on the reconciliation of these conflicting conditions, are
yielded by comparisons of organic aggregates with one
another. Besides seeing that organic aggregates differ from
other aggregates, alike in the quantity of motion they con-
tain and the amount of re-arrangement of parts that accom-
panies their progressive integration; we shall see that among

• I am indebted for this result to Dr. Frankland, who has been gogd enough
tc have the calculation made for me.

SIMPLE AND COMPOUND EVOLUTION. 301

orgtinic aggregates themselves, differences in tlie quantities
of contained motion are accompanied by differences in tlic
amounts of re- distribution.

The contrasts among organisms in cliemical composition
yield us tbe first illustration. Animals are distinguished
from plants by their far greater amounts of structure, as well
as by the far greater rapidity Avith which changes of struc-
ture go on in them; and in comparison with plants, animals
are at the same time conspicuous for containing immensely
larger proportions of those highly-compounded nitrogenous
molecules in which so much motion is locked up. So, too, is
it with the contrasts between the different parts of each
animal. Though certain nitrogenous parts, as cartilage, are
inert, yet the parts in which the secondary re-distributions
have gone on, and are ever going on, most actively, are those
in which the most highly-compounded molecules pre-
dominate; and parts which, like the deposits of fat, consist
of relatively-simple molecules, are seats of but little structuro
and but little change.

Wo find clear proof, too, that the continuance of the se-
condary re-distributions by which organic aggregates are so
remarkably distinguished, depends on the presence of that
motion contained in the water diffused through them;
and that, other things . equal, there is a direct relation be-
tween the amount of re-distribution and the amount of
contained water. The evidences may be put in three
groups. There is the familiar fact that a plant has

its formative changes arrested by cutting off the supply of
water: the primary re-distribution continues — it withers and
shrinks or becomes more integrated — ^but the secondary re-
distributions cease. There is the less familiar, but no less
certain, fact, that the like result occurs in animals — occurs,
indeed, as might be expected, after a relatively smaller di-
minution of water. Certain of the lower animals furnish ad-
ditional proofs. The Uotifera may be rendered apparently
lifeless by desiccation, and will yet revive if wetted. When

302 SIMPLE AND COMPOUND EVOLUTION.

tlie African rivers wMcli it inliabits are dried up, tlie LejpidO"
siren remains torpid in tlie hardened mud, until tlie return
of tlie rainy season brings water. Humboldt states tliat
during tbe summer drouglitj tlie alligators of tlie Pampas
lie buried in a state of suspended animation beneatb tlie
parcbed surface, and struggle up out of tbe earth as soon as
it becomes humid. The history of each organism

teaches us the same thing. The young plant, just putting
its head above the soil, is far more succulent than the adult
plant; and the amount of transformation going on in it is
relatively much greater. In that portion of an egg which
displays the formative processes during the early stages of
iiicubation, the changes of arrangement are more rapid than
those which an equal portion of the body of a hatched chick
undergoes. As may be inferred from their respective powers
to acquire habits and aptitudes, the structural modifiability
of a child is greater than that of an adult man; and the
structural modifiability of an adult man is greater than that
of an old man: contrasts which are accompanied by corre-
sponding contrasts in the densities of the tissues; since the
ratio of water to solid matter diminishes with advancing
age. And then we have this relation repeated in

the contrasts between parts of the same organism. In a
tree, rapid structural changes go on at the ends of shoots,
where the ratio of water to solid matter is very great; while
the changes are very slow in the dense and almost dry sub-
stance of the trunk. Similarly in animals, we have the con-
trast between the high rate of change going on in a soft
tissue like the brain, and the low rate of change going on
in dry non- vascular tissues, such as those which form hairs,
nails, horns, &c.

Other groups of facts prove, in an equally unmistake-
able way, that the quantity of secondary re-distribution in an
organism varies, cceteris paribus j according to the contained
quantity of the motion we call heat. The contrasts between
different organisms, and different states of the same organism.

SIMPLE AXD COMPOUND EVOLUTION. 803

unite in bliowing this. Speaking generally, tlie

amounts of structure and rates of structural change, arc
smaller throughout the vegetal kingdom than throughout
the animal kingdom; and, speaking generally, the heat of
plants is less than the heat of animals. A comparison of the
several divisions of the animal kingdom with one another, dis-
closes among them parallel relations. Regarded as a whole,
vertebrate animals are higher in temperature than inverte-
brate ones; and they are as a whole higher in organic ac-
tivity and complexity. Between subdivisions of the ver-
tebrata themselves, like differences in the state of molecular
vibration, accompany like differences in the degree of evo-
lution. The least compounded of the Vcrtchrata are the
fishes; and in most cases, the heat of fishes is nearly the same
as that of the water in which they swim : only some of them
being decidedly warmer. Though we habitually speak of
reptiles as cold-blooded; and though they have not much
more power than fishes of maintaining a temperature above
that of their medium; yet since their medium (which is, in
the majority of cases, the air of warm climates) is on the
average warmer than the medium inhabited by fishes, the
temperature of the class of reptiles is higher than that of the
class of fishes; and we see in them a correspondingly higher
complexity. The much more active molecular agitation in
mammals and birds, is associated with a considerably greater
multiformity of structure and a very far greater vi-
vacity. The most instructive contrasts, however,
are those occun-ing in the same organic aggregates m
different temperatures. Plants exhibit structural changes
that vary in rate as the temperature varies. Though light
is the agent which effects those molecular changes causing
vegetal growth, yet we see that in the absence of heat, such
changes are not effected: in winter there is enough light,
but the heat being insufficient, plant-life is suspended. That
this is the sole cause of the suspension, is proved by the fact
that at the same season, plants contained in hot-houscS;

304 SIMPLE AND COMPOUND EVOLUTION.

where they receive even a smaller amount of liglit^ go ou
producing leaves and flowers. We see, too, tlaat tlieir
seeds, to wMcli liglit is not simply needless but detrimental,
begin to germinate only wben the return of a warm season
raises tlie rate of molecular agitation. In like manner the
ova of animals, undergoing those changes by which struc-
ture is produced in them, must be kept more or less warm:
in the absence of a certain amount of motion among their
molecules, the re-arrangement of parts does not go on. Hy-
bernating animals also supply proof that loss of heat carried
far, retards extremely the processes of transformation. In
animals which do not hybernate, as in man, prolonged ex-
posure to intense cold produces an irresistible tendency to
sleep (which implies a lowered rate of structural and func-
tional changes) ; and if the abstraction of heat continues,
this sleep ends in death, or stoppage of these changes.

Here, then, is an accumulation of proofs, general and
special. Living aggregates are distinguished by the con-
nected facts, that during integration they undergo very
remarkable secondary changes which other aggregates do
not undergo to any considerable extent; and that they
contain (bulks being supposed equal) immensely greater
quantities of motion, locked up in various ways.

§ 105. The last chapter closed with the remark that
while Evolution is always an integration of Matter and dis-
sipation of Motion, it is in most cases much more. And
this chapter opened by briefly specifying the conditiona
under which Evolution is integrative only, or remains
simple, and the conditions under which it is something
further than integrative, or becomes* compound. In illus-
trating this contrast between simple and compound Evolu-
tion, and in explaining how the contrast arises, a vaguo
idea of Evolutien in general has been conveyed. Unavoid-
ably, we have to some extent forestalled the full dlscusaioa
of Evolution about to bo commenced.

SIMPLE AND COMPOUND EVOLUTION. 805

There is notMng in tMs to regret. A preliminary con-
ception^ indefinite bnt compreliensivej is always useful as an
introduction to a complete conception — cannot, indeed, bo
dispensed with. A complex idea is not communicable
directly, by giving one after another its component parts
in their finished forms; since if no outline pre-exists in
the mind of the recipient, these component parts will not
be rightly combined. The intended combination can be
made only when the recipient has discovered for himself
how the components are to be arranged. Much labour has
to be gone through which would have been saved had a
general notion, however cloudy, been conveyed before the
distinct and detailed delineation was commenced.

That which the reader has incidentally gathered respect-
ing the nature of Evolution from the foregoing sections, he
may thus advantageously use as a rude sketch, enabling him
to seize the relations among the several parts of the enlarged
picture as they are worked out before him. He will con-
stantly bear in mind that the total history of every sensible
existence is included in its Evolution and Dissolution;
which last process we leave for the present out of considera-
tion. He will remember that whatever aspect of it we are
for the moment considering. Evolution is always to be re-
garded as fundamentally an integration of Matter and dis-
sipation of Motion, which may be, and usually is, accom-
panied incidentally by other transformations of Matter and
Motion. And he will everywhere expect to find that the
primary re-distribution ends in forming aggregates which
are simple where it is rapid, but which become compound in
proportion as its slowness allows the efiects of secondary
rc-distributions to accumulate.

§ 106. There is much difficulty in tracing out trans-
formations so vast, so varied, and so intricate as those
now to be entered upon. Besides having to deal with
concrete phenomena of all orders, we have to deal with

306 SIMPLE AND COMIOUND EVOLUTION.

each group of phenomena under several aspects, no one
of wliicli can be fally understood apart from the rest and no
one of which can be studied simultaneously with the rest.
Already we have seen that during Evolution two great
classes of changes are going on together ; and we shall pre-
sently see that the second of these great classes is re-divi-
sible. Entangled with one another as all these changes
are, explanation of any one class or order involves direct or
indirect reference to others not yet explained. "We have
nothing for it but to make the best practicable compromise.

It will be most convenient to devote the next chapter to
a detailed account of Evolution under its primary aspect ;
tacitly recognizing its secondary aspects only so far as the
exposition necessitates.

The succeeding two chapters, occupied exclusively with
the secondary re-distributions, will make no reference to the
primary re- distribution beyond that which is unavoidable :
each being also limited to one particular trait of the se-
condary re-distributions.

In a further chapter will be treated a third, and still more
distinct, character of the secondary re-distributions.

•CHAPTER XIV.

THE LAW OF EVOLUTION.

§ 107. Deduction lias now to be verified "by induction.
Thus far tlie argument lias been that all sensible existences
must, in some way or other and at some time or other, reach
^ their concrete shapes through processes of concentration;
and such facts as have been named have been named merely
to clarify the perception of this necessity. But we cannot
be said to have arrived at that unified knowledge consti-
tuting Philosophy, until we have seen how existences of all
orders do exhibit a progressive integration of Matter and
concomitant loss of Motion. Tracing, so far as we may by
observation and inference, the objects dealt with by the
Astronomer and the Geologist, as well as those which Bio-
logy, Psychology and Sociology treat of, we have to con-
sider what direct proof there is that the Cosmos, in general
and in detail, conforms to this law.

In doing this, manifestations of the law moro involved
than those hitherto indicated, will chiefly occupy us.
Throughout the classes of facts successively contemplated,
our attention will be directed not so much to the truth that
every aggregate has undergone, or is undergoing, inte-
gration, as to the further truth that in every more or less
separate part of every aggregate, integration has been,
or is, in progress. Instead of simple wholes and wholes
of which the complexity has been ignored, we have

308 THE LAW OF EVOLUTION.

here to deal witli wlioles as they actually exist — mostly
made up of many members combined in many ways. And
in them we shall have to trace the transformation as dis-
played under several forms — a passage of the total mass
from a more diffused to a more consolidated state; a con-
current similar passage in every portion of it that comes to
have a distinguishable individuality; and a simultaneous
increase of combination among such individuated portions.

§ 108. Our Sidereal System by its general form, by its
clusters of stars of all degrees of closeness, and by its
nebulae in all stages of condensation, gives us grounds to
suspect that, generally and locally, concentration is going
on. Assume that its matter has been, and still is being,
drawn together by gravitation, and we have an explanation
of all its leading traits of structure — from its solidified
masses up to its collections of attenuated flocculi barely
discernible by the most powerful telescopes, from its double
stars up to such complex aggregates as the nubeculos.
Without dwelling on this evidence, however, let us pass to
the case of the Solar System.

The belief, for which there are so many reasons, that this
has had a nebular genesis, is the belief that it has arisen by
the integration of matter and concomitant loss of motion.
Evolution, under its primary aspect, is illustrated most
simply and clearly by this passage of the Solar System from
a widely diffused incoherent state to a consolidated coherent
state. While, according to the nebular hypothesis,

there has been going on this gradual concentration of the
Solar System as an aggregate, there has been a simulta-
neous concentration of each partially-independent member.
The substance of every planet in passing through its stages
of nebulous ring, gaseous spheroid, liquid spheroid, and
spheroid externally solidified, has in essentials paralleled the
changes gone through by the general mass; and every
Batellite has done the like. Moreover, at the same

THE LAW OP EVOLUTION, 309

time that the matter of the whole^ as well as the matter of
each partially-independent part,, has been thus integrating,
there has been the further integration implied by increas-
ing combination among the parts. The satellites of each
planet are linked with their primary into a balanced cluster;
while the planets and their' satellites form with the Sun^ a
compound group of which the members are more strongly
bound up with one another than were the far-spread por-
tions of the nebulous medium out of which they arose.

Even apart from the nebular hypothesis^ the Solar System
furnishes evidence having a like general meaning. Not to
make much of the meteoric matter perpetually being added
to the mass of the Earth, and probably to the masses of
other planets, as well as, in larger quantities, to the mass of
the Sun, it will suffice to name two generally-admitted
instances. The one is the appreciable retardation of comets
by the ethereal medium, and the inferred retardation of
planets — a process which, in time, must bring comets, and
eventually planets, into the Sun. The other is the Sun's
still-continued loss of motion in the shape of radiated heat ;
accompanying the still-continued integration of his mass.

§ 109. To geologic evolution we pass without break from
the evolution which, for convenience, we separate as astro-
nomic. The history of the Earth, as traced out- from the
structure of its crust, carries us back to that molten state
which the nebular hypothesis implies; and, as before pointed
out (§ 69), the changes classed as igneous are the accom-
paniments of the progressing consolidation of the Earth's
substance and accompanying loss of its contained motion.
Both the general and the local effects may be briefly exem-
plified.

Leaving behind the period when the more volatile
elements now existing as solids were kept by the high
temperature in a gaseous form, we may begin with the fact
that until the Earth's surface had cooled down below 212'^,

310 THE LAW OF EVOLUTION.

tlie vast mass of water at present covering tliree-fiftlis of it,
must have existed as vapour. This enormous volume of
disintegrated liquid became integrated as fast as the dissi-
pation of the Earth's contained motion allowed ; leaving, at
length, a comparatively small portion unintegrated, which
would be far smaller but for the unceasing absorption of
molecular motion from the Sun. In the formation

of the Earth's crust we have a similar change similarly
caused. The passage from a thin solid film, everywhere
fissured and moveable on the subjacent molten matter, to a
crust so thick and strong as to be but now and then very
slightly dislocated by disturbing forces, illustrates the pro-
cess. And while, in this superficial solidification, wp see
under one form how concentration accompanies loss of con-
tained motion, we see it under another form in that
diminution of the Earth's bulk implied by superficial
corrugation.

Local or secondary integrations have advanced along
with this general integration. A molten spheroid merely
skinned over with solid matter, could have presented nothing
beyond small patches of land and water. Difierences of
elevation great enough to form islands of considerable size,
imply a crust of some rigidity ; and only as the crust grew
thick could the land be united into continents divided by
oceans. So, too, with the more striking elevations. The
collapse of a thin crust round its cooling and contracting
contents, would throw it into low ridges : it must have
acquired a relatively great depth and strength before ex-
tensive mountain systems of vast elevation became pos-
sible. In sedimentary changes, also, a like pro-
gress is inferable. Denudation acting on the small surfaces
exposed during early stages, would produce but small local
deposits. The collection of detritus into strata of great
extent, and the union of such strata into extensive
" systems," imply wide surfaces of land and water, as well
%s subsidences great, in both area and depth; whence it

THE lAW OF EVOLUTION. 311

follows tliat integrations of this order must liave grown
more pronounced as tlie Earth's crust thickened.

§ 110. Already we havp recognized the fact that
organic evolution is primarily the formation of an aggre-
gate, by the continued incorporation of matter previously
spread through a wider space. Merely reminding the
reader that every plant grows by concentrating in itself
elements that were before diffused as gases, and that every
animal grows by re-concentrating these elements previously
dispersed in surrounding plants and animals; it will bo
here proper to complete the conception by pointing out that
the early history of a plant or animal, stiU more clearly than
its later history, shows us this fundamental process. For tho
microscopic germ of each organism undergoes, for a long
time, no other change than that implied by absorption of
nutriment. Cells imbedded in the stroma of an ovarium,
become ova by little else than continued growth at the
expense of adjacent materials. And when, after fertilization,
a more active evolution commences, its most conspicuous
trait is the drawing-in, to a germinal centre, of the substance
which the ovum contains.

Here, however, our attention must be directed maiuly to
the secondary integrations which habitually accompany the
primary integration. We have to observe how, along with
the formation of a larger mass of matter, there goes on a
drawing together and consolidation of the matter into
parts, as weU as an increasingly-intimate combination of
parts. In the mammalian embryo, the hearb, at

first a long pulsating blood-vessel, by and by twists upon itself
and integrates. The bile-cells constituting the rudimentary
liver, do not simply become different from the wall of tlie
intestine in which they at first lie ; but, as they accumulate,
they simultaneously diverge from it and consolidate into ar
organ.- The anterior segments of the cercbro-spinal axis,
which are at first continuous with the rest, a.nd distinguished

812 THE LAW OP EVOLUTION.

only by their larger size, undergo a gradual union ; and at
tlie same time tlie resulting liead folds into a mass clearly
marked off from tlie rest of the vertebral column. Tlie liko
process, variously exemplified in otber organs, is meanwhile
exhibited by the body as a whole ; which becomes integrated
somewhat in the same way that an outspread handkerchief
and its contents become integrated when its edges are drawn
in and fastened to make a bundle. Analogous

changes go on long after birth, and continue even up to
old age. In man, that solidification of the bony frame-
work which, during childhood, is seen in the coales-
cence of portions of the same bone ossified from diffe-
rent centres, is afterwards seen in the coalescence of bones
that were originally distinct. The appendages of the
vertebrce unite with the vertebral centres to which they be-
long— a change not completed until towards thirty. At the
same time the epiphyses, formed separately from the main
bodies of their respective bones, have their cartilaginous
connexions turned into osseous ones — are fused to the masses
beneath them. The component vertebroo of the sacrum,
which remain separate till about the sixteenth year, then
begin to unite ; and in ten or a dozen years more their union
is complete. Still later occurs the coalescence of the coccy-
geal vertebras ; and there are some other bony unions which
remain unfinished unless advanced age is reached. To
which add that the increase of density and toughness, going
on throughout the tissues in general during life, is the for-
mation of a more highly integrated substance.

The species of change thus illustrated under several
aspects in the unfolding human body, may be traced in all
animals. That mode of it which consists in the union of
similar parts originally separate, has been described by
Milne-Edwards and others, as exhibited in various of the
Invcrtehrata ; though it d,oes not seem to have been in-
cluded by them as an essential peculiarity in the process of
organic development. We shall, however, see clearly that

THE LAW OF EVOLUTION. 313

local integration is an all-important part of tliis process,
wlien we find it displayed not only in tlie successive stages
passed througli by every embryo, but also in ascending from
the lower creatures to tlie higlier. As manifested in either
way, it goes on both longitudinally and transversely : under
which different forms we may, indeed, most conveniently
consider it. Of longitudinal integration^ the

sub-kingdom Annulosa supplies abundant examples. Its
lower members, such as worms and myriapods, are mostly
characterized by the great number of segments composing
them ; reaching in some cases to several hundreds. But in
the higher divisions — crustaceans, insects, and spiders — we
find this number reduced down to twenty-two, thirteen, or
even fewer ; while, accompanying the reduction, there is a
shortening or integration of the whole body, reaching its
extreme in the crab and the spider. The significance of
these contrasts, as bearing on the general doctrine of
Evolution, will be seen when it is pointed out that they are
parallel to those which arise during the development of
individual annulose animals. In the lobster, the head and
thorax form one compact box, made by the union of a num-
ber of segments which in the embryo were separable. Simi-
larly, the butterfly shows us segments so much more closely
united than they were in the caterpillar, as to be, some of
them, no longer distinguishable from one another. The
Vertcbrata again, throughout their successively higher classes,
famish Hke instances of longitudinal union. In most fishes,
and in reptiles that have no limbs, none of the vertebra)
coalesce. In most mammals and in birds, a variable num -
ber of vertebr83 become fused together to form the sacrum ;
and in the higher apes and in man, the caudal vertebra)
also lose their separate individualities in a single as
coccygis. That which we may distinguish as trans-

verse integration, is well illustrated among the Annulosa in
the development of the nervous system. Leaving out those
most degraded forms which do not present distinct ganglia,
15

314 THE LAW OP EVOLUTION.

it is to "be ol3served tliat tlie lower annulose animals, in com-
mon witli tlie larvae of tlie higlier, are severally cliaracterized
by a double cliain of ganglia running from end to end of
tlie body ; while in the more perfectly-formed annulose
animals, tMs double chain becomes united into a siagle
chain. Mr. Newport has described the course of this con-
centration as exhibited in insects ; and by Eathke it has been
traced in crustaceans. During the early stages of the
Astacus fluviatiliSf or common cray-fish, there is a pair of
separate ganglia to each ring. Of the fourteen pairs be-
longing to the head and thorax, the three pairs in advance
of the mouth consolidate into one mass to form the brain, or
cephalic ganglion. Meanwhile, out of the remainder, the
first six pairs severally unite in the median liue, while the
rest remaia more or less separate. Of these six double
ganglia thus formed, the anterior four coalesce into one
mass; the remaining two coalesce into another mass; and then
these two masses coalesce into one. Here we see longitudi-
nal and transverse integration going on simultaneously; and
in the highest crustaceans they are both carried still fur-
ther. The Yertehrata clearly exhibit transverse integration
in the development of the generative system. The lowest
mammals — ^the Monotrematw—^vcL common with birds, to which
they are in many respects allied, have oviducts which to-
wards their lower extremities are dilated into cavities, sever-
ally performing in an imperfect way the function of a uterus.
" In the Marsiijpialia there is a closer approximation of tho
two lateral sets of organs on the median line ; for tho ovi-
ducts converge towards one another and meet (without
coalescing) on the median line ; so that their uterine dilata-
tions are in contact with each other, forming a true ' double
uterus.' ... As we ascend the series of ' placental ' mam-
mals, we find the lateral coalescence becoming more and
more complete. ... In many of the liodcntia the uterus
still remains completely divided into two lateral halves;
wliilst in others these coalesce at their lower portions, form-

THE LAW OP EVOLUTION. 315

ing a rudiment of the true 'body' of the uterus in. the
human subject. This part increases at the expense of the
lateral ' cornua ' in the higher herbivora and carnivora; but
even in the lower quadrumana the uterus is somewhat cleffc
at its summit ."''*

Under the head of organic integrations,, there remain to
be noted some which do not occur within the limits of one
organism^ and which only in an indirect way involve con-
centration of matter and dissipation of motion. These are
the integrations by which organisms are made dependent on
one another. "We may set down two kinds of them — those
which occur within the same species, and those which occur
among different species. More or less of the gre-

garious tendency is general in animals; and when it is
marked^ there is^ in addition to simple aggregation, a certain
degree of combination. Creatures that hunt in packs, or
that have sentinels, or that are governed by leaders, form
bodies partially united by co-operation. Among polygamous
mammals and birds this mutual dependence is closer ; and
the social insects show us assemblages of individuals of a
still more consolidated character: some of them having
carried the consolidation so far that the individuals cannot
exist if separated. How organisms in general are

mutually dependent, and in that sense integrated, we shall
see on remembering — first, that while all animals live
directly or indirectly on plants, plants live on the carbonic
acid excreted by animals ; second, that among animals the
flesh-eaters cannot exist without the plant-eaters ; third,
that a large proportion of plants can continue their respec-
tive races only by the help of insects, and that in many
cases particular plants need particular insects. Without
detailing the more complex connexions, which Mr. Darwin
has so beautifully illustrated, it will suffice to say that the
Flora and 'Fauna in each habitat, constitute an aggregate

• Carpenter's Prin. of Comp. Phya., p. 617.

816 THE LAW OF EVOLUTION.

SO far integrated tliat many of its species die ont if placed
amid tlie plants and animals of another habitat. And it
is to be remarked tliat this integration^ too, increases as
organic evolution progresses.

§ 111. The phenomena set down in the foregoing para-
graph are introductory to others of a higher order, with
which they ought, perhaps, in strictness, to be grouped —
phenomena which, for want of a better word, we may term
super-organic. Inorganic bodies present us with certain
facts. Certain other facts, mostly of a more involved kind,
are presented by organic bodies. There remain yet further
facts, not presented by any organic body taken singly ; but
which result from the actions of aggregated organic bodies
on one another and on inorganic bodies. Though pheno-
mena of this order are, as we see, foreshadowed among in-
ferior organisms, they become so extremely conspicuous in
mankind as socially united, that practically we may consider
them to commence here.

In the social organism integrative changes are clearly and
abundantly exemplified. Uncivilized societies display them
when wandering families, such as we see among Bushnien^,
join into tribes of considerable numbers. A further pro-
gress of like nature is everywhere manifested in tho subju-
gation of weaker tribes by stronger ones ; and in tho sub-
ordination of their respective chiefs to the conquering chief.
The combinations thus resulting, which, among aboriginal
races, are being continually formed and continually broken
up, become, among superior races, relatively permanent. If
we trace the stages through which our own society, or any
adjacent one, has passed, we see this unification from timo
to time repeated on a larger scale and gaining in stability.
The aggregation of juniors and the children of juniors under
elders and tho children of elders ; the consequent establish-
ment of groups of vassals bound to their respective nobles ;
the subsequent subordination of groups of inferior noblo?i

THE LAW OP EVOLUTION. 317

to dukes or earls ; and the still later growth of the kingly
power over dukes and earls ; are so many instances of in ■
creasing consolidation. This process through which petty
tenures are aggregated in feuds, feuds into provinces, pro-
vinces into kingdoms, and finally contiguous kingdoms into
a single one, slowly completes itself by destroying the ori-
ginal lines of demarcation. And it may be further remarked
of the European nations as a whole, that in the tendency to
form alliances more or less lasting, in the restraining influ-
ences exercised by the several governments over one another,
in the system, now becoming customary, of settling inter-
national disputes by congresses, as well as in the breaking
down of commercial barriers and the increasing facilities of
communication, we may trace the beginnings of a European
federation — a still larger integration than any now esta-
blished.

But it is not only in these external unions of groups with
groups, and of the compound groups with one another, that
the general law is exemplified. It is exemplified also in
unions that take place iaternally, as the groups become
more highly organized. There are two orders of these,
which may be broadly distinguished as regulative and
operative. A civilized society is made unlike a

barbarous one by the establishment of regulative classes —
governmental, administrative, military, ecclesiastical, legal,
&c., which, while they have their several special bonds of
union, constituting them sub-classes, are also held together
as a general class by a certain community of privileges,
of blood, of education, of intercourse. In some societies,
fully developed after their particular types, this con-
solidation into castes, and this union among the upper
castes by separation from the lower, eventually grow
very decided: to be afterwards rendered less decided,
only in cases of social metamorphosis caused by the in-
dustrial regime. The integrations that accompany
the operative or industrial organization, later in origin.

318 THE LAW OP EVOLUTION.

are not merely of tliis indirect kind^ but they are also direct
— they show us physical approach. "We have integrations
consequent on the simple growth of adjacent parts perform-
ing like functions ; as^ for instance, the junction of Man-
chester with its cahco-weaving suburbs. We have other
integrations that arise when, out of several places producing
a particular commodity, one monopolizing more and more of
the business, draws to it masters and workers, and leaves
the other places to dwindle ; as witness the growth of the
Yorkshire cloth-districts at the expense of those in the West
of England ; or the absorption by Staffordshire of the pot-
tery-manufacture, and the consequent decay of the esta-
blishments that once flourished at Derby and elsewhere.
We have those more special integrations that arise within
the same city ; whence result the concentration of publishers
in Paternoster Bow, of corn-merchants about Mark Lane, of .
civil engineers in Great George Street, of bankers in the centre
of the city. Industrial combinations that consist, not in the
approximation or fusion of parts, but in the establishment
of common centres of connexion, are exhibited in the Bank
clearing-house and the Eailway clearing-house. While of
yet another species are those unions which bring into rela-
tion, the more or less dispersed citizens who are occupied in
like ways ; as traders are brought by the Exchange, and as
are professional men by institutes like those of Civil Engi-
neers, Architects, &c.

At first sight these seem to be the last of our instances.
Having followed up the general law to social aggregates,
there apparently remain no other aggregates to which it can
apply. Thig however is not true. Among what we have
above distinguished as super-organic phenomena, we shall
find sundry groups of very remg-rkable and interesting
illustrations. Though evolution of the various products of
human activities cannot be said directly to exemplify the
integration of matter and dissipation of motion, yet they
exemplify it indirectly. For the progress of Language, of

THE LAW OF EVOLUTION. 319

Science^ and of tlie Arts, industrial and sestlietic, is an ob-
jectiye register of subjective cbanges. Alterations of struc-
ture in buman beings, and concomitant alterations of struc-
ture in aggregates of buman beings, jointly produce corre-
sponding alterations of structure in all those tbings wbicb
humanity creates. As in the changed impress on the wax,
we read a change in the seal ; so in the integrations of ad-
vancing Language, Science, and Art, we see reflected cer-
tain integrations of advancing human structure, individual
and social. A section must be devoted to each group.

§ 112. Among uncivilized races, the many-syllabled names
used for not uncommon objects, as well as the descriptive
character of proper names, show us that the words used
for the less-familiar things are formed by compounding
the words used for the more-familiar things. This process
of composition is sometimes found in its incipient stage — a
stage in which the component words are temporarily united
to signify some un-named object, and, from lack of frequent
use, do not permanently cohere. But in the majority of
inferior languages, the process of '^ agglutination,'* as it
is called, has gone far enough to produce considerable
stability in the compound words : there is a manifest inte-
gration. How small is the degree of this integration, how-
ever, when compared with that reached in weU-devcloped
languages, is shown both by the great length of the compound
words used for things and acts of constant occurrence, and
by the separableness of their elements. Certain North-
American tongues illustrate this very well. In a Ricaree
vocabulary extendrag to fifty names of common objects,
which in English are nearly all expressed by single syllables,
there is not one monosyllabic word ; and in the nearly-allied
vocabulary of the Pawnees, the names for these same com-
mon objects are monosyllabic in but two instances. Things
so familiar to these hunting tribes as dog and hoWy are, in
the Pawnee language, ashakish and teeragish ; the hand and

320 THE LAW OF EVOLUTION.

tlie eyes aro respectively iJcshceree and Jceereelwo ; for day tlio
term is sliaJcoorooeesliairet, and for devil it is tsaJieehshJcaJcoo'
raiwah ; wMle tlie numerals are composed of from two syl-
lables up to five^ and in Eicaree up to seven. That
the great length of these familiar words implies a low degree
of development^ and that in the formation of higher lan-
guages out of lower there is a progressive integration^ which
reduces the polysyllables to dissyllables and monosyllables,
is an inference confirmed by the history of our o^vn language.
Anglo-Saxon steorra has been in course of time consolidated
into English star, mona into moon, and nama into name.
The transition through the intermediate semi- Saxon is clearly
traceable. Sunn became in semi-Saxon sune, and in Eng-
lish son : the final e of sune being an evanescent form of tho
original w. The change from the Anglo-Saxon plural,, formed
by the distinct syllable as, to our plural formed by the appended
consonant s, shows us the same thing : smitlias in becom-
ing smiths, and endas in becoming ends, illustrate pro-
gressive coalescence. So, too, does the disappearance of the
terminal an in the infinitive mood of verbs ; as s£own in the
transition from the Anglo-Saxon cuman to the semi-Saxon
cumme, and to the English come. Moreover the process has
"been slowly going on, even since what we distinguish as Eng-
lish was formed. In Elizabeth's time, verbs were still very
frequently pluralized by the addition of en — we tell was wo
tellen; and in some rural districts this form of speech may
even now be heard. In like manner the terminal ed of tho
past tense, has united with the word it modifies. Burn-ed
has in pronunciation become burnt; and even in writing tho
terminal t has in some cases taken the place of the ed. Only
where antique forms in general are adhered to, as in tho
church-service, is the distinctness of this inflection still
maintained. Further, wo see that the compound vowels have
been in many cases fused into single vowels. That in bread
the e and a were originally both sounded, is proved by the
fact that they are still so sounded in parts where old habits

THE LAW OP EVOLUTION. 821

linger. We, however, liave contracted tlie pronunciation
into hred; and we have made like changes in many other
common words. Lastly, let it be noted that where the fre-
quency of repetition is greatest, the process is carried
farthest; as instance the contraction of lord (originally
la ford) into lud in the mouths of Barristers; and, still better,
the coalescence of God he with you into Good hye.

Besides exhibiting in this way the integrative process.
Language equally exhibits it throughout all grammatical
development. The lowest kinds of human speech, having
merely nouns and verbs without inflections to them, mani-
festly permit no such close union of the elements of a pro-
position as results when the relations are marked either by
inflections or by connective words. Such speech is neces-
sarily what we significantly call ^^ incoherent .■'' To a -con-
siderable extent, incoherence is seen in the Chinese language.
" If, instead of saying I go to London, figs come from Turlcey,
the sun shines through the air, we said, I go end London,
figs come origin Turlcey, the sun shines passage air, we should
discourse after the manner of the Chinese.'' From this
^^aptoticf' form, there is clear evidence of a transition, by
coalescence, to a form in which the connexions of words are
expressed by the addition to them of certain inflectional words.
^^In Languages like the Chinese,'' remarks Dr. Latham, ^'the
separate words most in use to express relation may become
adjuncts or annexes." To this he adds the fact that '^ the
numerous inflexional languages fall into two classes. Li one,
the inflexions have no appearance of having been separate
words. In the other, their origin as separate words is de-
monstrable." From which the inference drawn is, that the
*^ aptotic " languages, by the more and more constant use
of adjuncts, gave rise to the '' agglntinatej' languages, or
those in which the original separateness of the inflexional
parts can be traced ; and that out of these, by further use,
arose the *' amalgamate " languages, or those in which tho
original separateness of the inflexional parts can uo longer

322

THE LAW OF EVOLUTION.

be traced. Strongly corroborative of this inference

is tlie unquestionable fact_, that by sucli a process there have
grown out of the amalgamate languages, the " anaptotic "
languages ; of which our own is the most perfect example
—languages in which, by further consolidation, inflexions
have almost disappeared, while, to express the verbal rela-
tions, certain new kinds of words have been developed.
When we see the Anglo-Saxon inflexions gradually lost by
contraction during the development of English, and, though
to a less degree, the Latin inflexions dwindling away during
the development of French, we cannot deny that grammati-
cal structure is modified by integration ; and seeing how
clearly the earlier stages of grammatical structure are ex-
plained by it, we can scarcely doubt that it has been going
on from the first.

In proportion to the degree of this integration, is the
extent to which integration of another order is carried.
Aptotic languages are, as already pointed out, necessarily
incoherent — the elements of a proposition cannot be com-
pletely tied into a whole. But as fast as coalescence pro-
duces inflected words, it becomes possible to unite them
into sentences of which the parts are so mutually dependent
that no considerable change can be made without destroying
the meaning. Yet a further stage in this process may be
noted. After the development of those grammatical forms
which make definite statements possible, we do not at first
find them used to express anything beyond statements of a
simple kind. A single subject with a single predicate, ac-
companied by but few qualifying terms, are usually all. If
we compare, for instance, the Hebrew scriptures with writ-
ings of modern times, a marked difierence of aggregation
among the groups of words, is visible. In the number of
subordinate propositions which accompany the principal
one ; in the various complements to subjects and predicates ;
and in the numerous qualifying clauses — all of them united
into one complex whole — ^many sentences in modern com-

THE LAW OF EVOLUTION. 323

positions exhibit a degree of integration not to be found in
ancient ones. .

§ 113. The history of Science presents facts of the same
meaning at every step. Indeed the integration of groups
of like entities and like relations, may be said to constitute
the most conspicuous part of scientific progress. A glance
at the classificatory sciences, shows us that the confused
incoherent aggregations which the vulgar makei of natural
objects, are gradually rendered complete and compact, and
bound up into groups within groups. While, instead of
considering all marine creatures as fish, shell-fish, and jelly-
fish. Zoology establishes divisions and sub-divisions under
the heads Vertehrata, Annulosa, Mollusca, &c. ; and while,
in place of the wide and vague assemblage popularly de-
scribed as ^' creeping things," it makes the specific classes
Annelida, Myriojpoda, Inseday Arachnida; it simultaneously
gives to these an increasing consolidation. The several
orders and genera of which each consists, are arranged ac-
cording to their affinities and tied together under common
definitions ; at the same time that, by extended observation
and rigorous criticism, the previously unknown and un-
determined forms are integrated with their respective con-
geners. Nor is the process less clearly manifested
in those sciences which have for their subject-matter, not
classified objects but classified relations. Under one of ita
chief aspects, scientific advance is the advance of generaliza-
tion ; and generalizing is uniting into groups all like co-
existencies and sequences among phenomena. . The colliga-
tion of many concrete relations into a generalization of
the lowest order, exemplifies this principle in its simplest
form ; and it is again exempUfied in a more complex form
by the colligation of these lowest generalizations into higher
ones, and these into still higher ones. Year by year are
estabUshed certain connexions among orders of phenomena
that appear unaUied ; and these connexions, multiplying and

J324 THE LAW OP EVOLUTION.

Btrengtiiening, gradually bring the seemingly unallicd
orders under a common bond. Wlxeuj, for example,
Humboldt quotes tbe saying of tlie Swiss — " it is going to
rain because we hear the murmur of the torrents nearer,^' —
when he remarks the relation between this and an observa-
tion of his own, that the cataracts of the Orinoco are heard
at a greater distance by night than by day — when he notes
the essential parallelism existing between these facts and
the fact that the unusual visibility of remote objects
is also an indication of coming rain — and when ho
points out that the common cause of these variations is the
smaller hindrance offered to the passage of both light and
sound, by media which are comparatively homogeneous,
either in temperature or hygrometric state; he helps in
bringing under one generalization the phenomena of light
and those of sound. Experiment having shown that these
conform to like laws of reflection and refraction, the conclu-
sion that they are both produced by undulations gains pro-
bability: there is an incipient integration of two great orders
of phenomena, between which no connexion was suspected in
times past. A still more decided integration has been of late
taking place between the once independent sub-sciences of
Electricity, Magnetism, and Light.

The process will manifestly be carried much further. Such
propositions as those set forth in preceding chapters, on
"The Persistence of Force,'^ "The Transformation and
Equivalence of Forces," " The Direction of Motion," and
" The Ehythm of Motion," unite within single bonds phe-
nomena belonging to all orders of existences. And if there
is such a thing as that which wo here understand by
Philosophy, there must eventually be reached a universal
integration.

§ 114. Nor do the industrial and sesthetic Arts fail to
Bupply us with equally conclusive evidence. The progress
from rude, small, and simple tools, to perfect, complex, and

THE LAW OP EVOLUTION. 325

large macliineSj is a progress in integration. Among wliat
are classed as tlie meclianical powers, the advance from tlie
lever to tlie wheel-and-axle is an advance from a simple
agent to an agent made up of several simple ones. On com-
paring tlie wheel-and-axle, or any of tlie macLines used in
early times with those used now, we see that in each of our
machines several of the primitive machines are united into
one. A modern apparatus for spinning or weaving, for
making stockings or lace, contaius not simply a lever, an in-
clined plane, a screw, a wheel-and-axle, joined together ; but
several of each integrated into one whole. Again, in early
ages, when horse-power and man-power were alone em-
ployed, the motive agent was not bound up with the tool
moved ; but the two have now become in many cases fused
together. The fire-box and boiler of a locomotive are com-
bined with the machinery which the steam works. A still
more extensive integration is exhibited in every factory.
Here we find a large number of complicated machines,
all connected by driving shafts with the same steam-engine
— all united with it into one vast apparatus.

Contrast the mural decorations of the Egyptians and
Assyrians with modern historical, paintings, and there
becomes manifest a great advance in unity of composition —
in the subordination of the parts to the whole. One of
these ancient frescoes is, in truth, made up of a number of
pictures that have little mutual dependence. The several
figures of which each group consists, show very imperfectly
by their attitudes, and not at all by their expressions, the
relations in which they stand to each other: the respective
groups might -be separated with but little loss of meaning ;
and the centre of chief interest, which should link all parts
together, is often inconspicuous. The same trait may be
noted in the tapestries of medieval days. Kepresenting
perhaps a hunting scene, one of these contains men, horses,
dogs, beasts, birds, trees, and flowers, miscellaneously dis-
persed: the living objects being variously occupied, and

S2G THE LAW OF EVOLUTION.

mostly with no apparent consciousness of eacli other's proxi-
mity. But in tlie paintings since produced, faulty as many
of tliem are in this respect, there is always a more or less
distinct co-ordination of parts — an arrangement of atti-
tudes, expressions, lights, and colours, such as to combine
the picture into an organic whole; and the success with
wbich unity of effect is educed from variety of components,
is a chief. test of merit.

In music, progressive integration is displayed in still
more numerous ways. The simple cadence embracing but
a few notes, which in the chants of savages is monotonously
repeated, becomes, among civilized races, a long series of
different musical phrases combined into one whole ; and so
complete is the integration, that the melody cannot be
broken off in the middle, nor shorn of its final note, without
giving us a painful sense of incompleteness. When to the
air, a bass, a tenor, and an alto are added ; and when to the
harmony of different voice-parts there is added an accom-
paniment; we see exemplified integrations of another order,
which grow gradually more elaborate. And the process is
carried a stage higher when these complex solos, concerted
pieces, choruses, and orchestral effects, are combined into
the vast ensemble of a musical drama ; of which, be it re-
membered, the artistic perfection largely consists in the
subordination of the particular effects to the total effect.

Once more the Arts of literary delineation, narrative and
dramatic, furnish us with parallel illustrations. The tales
of primitive times, like those with which the story-tellers of
the East still daily amuse their listeners, are made up of
successive occurrences that are not only in themselves un-
natural, but have no natural connexion: they are but sc
many separate adventures put together without necessary
sequence. But in a good modern work of imagination, tho
events are the proper products of the characters working
under given conditions ; and cannot at will be changed in
their order or kind, without injuring or destroying the

THE LAW OP EVOLUTION. 327

general eflfect. Further, the characters themselves, which
in early fictions play their respective parts without show-
ing how their minds are modified by one another or by
the events, are now presented to us as held together by
complex moral relations, and as acting and re-acting upon
one another's natures.

§ 115. Evolution then, under its primary aspect, is a
change from a less coherent form to a more coherent
form, consequent on the dissipation of motion and integra-
tion of matter. This is the universal process through which
sensible existences, individually and as a whole, pass during
the ascending halves of their histories. This prcJves to be
a character displayed equally in those earliest changes which
the Universe at large is supposed to have undergone, and in
those latest changes which we trace in society and the pro-
ducts of social life. And throughout, the unification pro-
ceeds in several ways simultaneously.

Alike during the evolution of the Solar System, of a
planet, of an organism, of a nation, there is progressive
aggregation of the entire mass. This may be shown by the
increasing density of the matter already contained in it ; or
by the drawing into it of matter that was before separate ;
or by both. But in any case it implies a loss of relative mo-
tion. At the same time, the parts into which the mass
has divided, severally consolidate in Hke manner. We see
this in that formation of planets and satellites which has
gone on along with the concentration of the nebula out of
which the Solar System originated ; we see it in the growth
of separate organs that advances, jpari passu, wdth the
growth of each organism ; we see it in that rise of
special industrial centres and special masses of popu-
lation, w^hich is associated with the rise of each society.
Always more or less of local integration accompanies
the general integration. And then, beyond the
increased closeness of juxta-position among the compo-

328 THE LAW OB EVOLUTION,

nents of the whole, and among the components of each part,
there is increased closeness of combination among the
parts, producing mutual dependence of them. Dimly fore-
shadowed as this mutual dependence is in inorganic exist-
ences, both celestial and terrestrial, it becomes distinct in
organic and super-organic existences. From the lowest
living forms upwards, the degree of development is marked
by the degree in which the several parts constitute a co-
operative assemblage. The advance from those creatures
wliich live on in each part when cut to pieces, up to those
creatures which cannot lose any considerable part without
death, nor any inconsiderable part without great constitu-
tional disturbance, is an advance to creatures which, while
more integrated in respect to their solidification, are also
more integrated as consisting of organs that live for and by
each other. The like contrast between undeveloped and de-
veloped societies, need not be shown in detail : the ever-in-
creasing co-ordination of parts, is conspicuous to all. And
it must suflB.ce just to indicate that the same thing holds true
of social products : as, for instance, of Science ; wliich has
become highly integrated not only in the sense that each
division is made up of mutually-dependent propositions, but
in the sense that the several divisions are mutually de-
pendent— cannot carry on their respective investigations
without aid from one another.

CHAPTER XV.

THE LAW OF EVOLUTION CONTINUED,

§ IIG. Changes great in their amounts and various m
tKeir kinds^ wliicli accompany those dealt with in the last
chapter, have thus far been wholly ignored — or, if tacitly
recognized,, have not been avowedly recognized. Integration
of each whole has been described as taking place simul-
taneously with integration of each of the parts into which the
whole divides itself. But how comes each whole to divide itself
into parts ? This is a transformation more remarkable thdn
the passage of the whole frgm an incoherent to a coherent
state; and a formula which says nothing about it omits more
than half the phenomena to be formulated.

This larger half of the phenomena we have now to treat.
In this chapter we are concerned with those secondary re-
distributions of matter and motion that go on along with
the primary re-distribution. Wo saw that wlule in very
incoherent aggregates, secondary re-distributions produce
but evanescent results, in aggregates that reach and main-
tain a certain medium state, neither very incoherent nor
very coherent, results of a relatively persistent character are
produced — structural modifications. And our next inquiry
must be — What is the universal expression for these struc-
tural modifications ?

Already an implied answer has been given by the title-
Compound Evolution. Already in distinguishing as simple
Evolution, that integration of matter and dissipation of mo-

S30 THE LAW OF EVOLUTION CONTINUED.

tion wliicli is unaccompaiiied by secondary re-distributions,
it lias been tacitly asserted that where secondary re-distri-
butions occur,, complexity arises. Obviously if, while there
has gone on a transformation of the incoherent into the co-
herent^ there have gone on other transformations^ the mass,
instead of remaining uniform, must have become multiform.
The proposition is an identical one. To say that the
primary re-distribution is accompanied by secondary re-dis-
tributions, is to say that along with the change from a
diffused to a concentrated state, there goes on a change from
a homogeneous state to a heterogeneous state. The com-
ponents of the mass while they become integrated also
become differentiated.*

This, then, is the second aspect under which we have to
study Evolution. As, in the last chapter, we contemplated
existences of all orders as displaying progressive integration;
so, in this chapter, we have to contemplate them as display-
ing progressive differentiation.

§ 117. A growing variety of structure throughout our
Sidereal System, is implied by the contrasts that indicate an
aggregative process throughout it. We have nebulae that
are diffused and irregular, and others that are spiral,
annular, spherical, &c. We have groups of stars the mem-
bers of which are scattered, and groups concentrated in all
degrees down to closely-packed globular clusters. We have
these groups differing in the numbers of their members,
from those containing several thousand stars to those con-

* The terms here used must be understood in relative senses. Since
we know of no such thing as absoute diffusion or absolute concentration,
the change can never be anything but a change from a more diffused
to a less diffused state— from smaller coherence to greater cohereuec ;
and, similarly, as no concrete existences present us with absolute
Bimplicity — as nothing is perfectly uniform — as we nowhere ilud
complete homogeneity — the transformation is literally always towards
greater complexity, or increased multiformity, or further heterogeneity.
This qualification the reader must habitually bear in mind.

THE LAW OF EVOLUTION CONTINUED. 331

taining but two. Among individual stars there are great
contrasts^ real as well as apparent^ of size; and from their
unlike colours, as well as from their unlike spectra,
numerous contrasts among their physical states are infer-
able. Beyond which heterogeneities in detail there are
general heterogeneities. Nebulge are abundant in some
regions of the heavens, while in others there are only stars.
Here the celestial spaces are almost void of objects; and there
we see dense aggregations, nebular and stellar together.

The matter of our Solar System during its concentration
has become more multiform. The aggregating gaseous
spheroid, dissipating its motion, acquiring more marked un-
likenesses of density and temperature between interior and
exterior, and leaving behind from time to time annular por-
tions of its mass, underwent differentiations that increased in
number and degree, until there was evolved the existing or-
ganized group of sun, planets, and satellites. The hetero-
geneity of this is variously displayed. There are the immense
contrasts between the sun and the planets, in bulk and in
weight ; as well as the subordinate contrasts of Hke kind
between one planet and another, and between the planets
and their sateUites. There is the further contrast between
the sun and the planets in respect of temperature ; and there is
reason to suppose that the planets and satellites differ from
one another in their proper heats, as well as in the heats which
they receive from the sun. Bearing in mind that they also
differ in the incHnations of their orbits, the incHnations of
their axes, in their specific gravities and in their physical
constitutions, we see how decided is the complexity wrought
in the Solar System by those secondary re-distributions that
have accompanied the primary re-distribution.

§ 118. Passing from this hypothetical illustration, which
must be taken for what it is worth, without prejudice to tho
general argument, let us descend to an order of evidence
less open to objection.

832 THE LAW 0¥ EVOLUTION CONTINUED.

It is now generally agreed among geologists tliat tlie Earth
was once a mass of molten matter ; and that its inner parts
are still fluid and incandescent. Originally, then, it was
comparatively homogeneous in consistence ; and, because of
the circulation that takes place in heated fluids, must have
been comparatively homogeneous in temperature. It must,
too, have been surrounded by an atmosphere consisting
partly of the elements of air and water, and partly of those
various other elements which assume gaseous forms at liigh
temperatures. That cooling by radiation which, though ori-
ginally far more rapid than now, necessarily required an im-
mense time to produce decided change, must at length
have resulted in difierentiating the portion most able to part
with its heat ; namely, the surface. A further cooling, lead-
ing to deposition of all solidifiable elements contained in the
atmosphere, and finally to precipitation of the water and
separation of it from the air, must thus have caused a second
marked difierentiation ; and as the condensation must have
Commenced on the coolest parts of the surface — ^namely,
about the poles — there must so have resulted the first geo-
graphical distinctions.

To these illustrations of growing heterogeneity, which,
though deduced from the known laws of matter, may be re-
garded as hypothetical. Geology adds an extensive series
that have been inductively established. The Earth's struc-
ture has been age after ago further involved by the multi-
plication of the strata which form its crust ; and it has been
age after age further involved by the increasing composi-
tion of these strata, the more recent of which, formed
from the detritus of the more ancient, are many of them
rendered highly complex by the mixtures of materials they
contain. This heterogeneity has been vastly in-

creased by the action of the Earth's still molten nucleus
on its envelope; whenco have resulted not only a great
variety of igneous rocks, but the tilting up of sedi-
mentary strata at all angles, the formation of faults and

THE LAW OF EVOLUTION CONTINUED. 333

metallic veins, the production of endless dislocations and ir-
regularities. Again, geologists tcacli us that tlie
Earth's surface has been growing more varied in elevation —
that the most ancient mountain systems are the smallest,
and the Andes and Himalayas the most modern; while, in
all probability, there have been corresponding changes in
the bed of the ocean. As a consequence of this ceaseless
multiplication of differences, we now find that no consider-
able portion of the Earth's exposed surface, is like any other
portion, either in contour, in geologic structure, or in
chemical composition ; and that, in most parts, the surface
changes from mile to mile in all these characteristics.

There has been simultaneously going on a gradual dif-
ferentiation of climates. As fast as the Earth cooled and
its crust solidified, inequalities of temperature arose be-
tween those parts of its surface most exposed to the sun
and those less exposed; and thus in time there came to
be the marked contrasts between regions of perpetual ice
and snow, regions where winter and summer alternately
reign for periods varying according to the latitude, and
regions where summer follows summer with scarcely
an appreciable variation. Meanwhile, elevations

and subsidences, recurring here and there over the Earth's
crust, tending as they have done to produce irre-
gular distribution of land and sea, have entailed various
modifications of climate beyond those dependent on latitude;
while a yet further series of such modifications has been
produced by increasing differences of height in the lands,
which have in sundry places brought arctic, temperate,
and tropical climates to within a few miles of one another.
The general results of these changes are, that every
extensive region has its own meteorologic conditions, and
that every locaUty in each region differs more or less from
others in those conditions : as in its structure, its contour,
its soil.

Thus, between our existing Earth, the phenomena of

334 THE LAW OP EVOLUTION CONTINUED.

wliose varied crust neither geographers^ geologists, minera-
logists nor meteorologists have yet enumerated, and the
molten globe out of which it was evolved, the contrast in
heterogeneity is sufficiently striking.

§ 119. The clearest, most numerous, and most varied il-
lustrations of the advance in multiformity that accompanies
the advance in integration, are furnished by living organic
bodies. Distinguished as we found these to be by the great
quantity of their contained motion, they exhibit in an ex-
treme degree the secondary re-distributions which contained
motion facilitates. The history of every plant and every
animal, while it is a history of increasing bulk, is also a
history of simultaneously-increasing differences among the
parts. This transformation has several aspects.

The chemical composition which is almost uniform through-
out the substance of a germ, vegetal or animal, gradually
ceases to be uniform. The several compounds, nitrogenous
and non-nitrogenous, which were homogeneously mixed,
segregate by degrees, become diversely proportioned in
diverse places, and produce new compounds by transforma-
tion or modification. In plants the albuminous
and amylaceous matters which form the substance of the
embryo, give origin here to a preponderance of chlorophyll
and there to a preponderance of cellulose. Over the parts
that are becoming leaf-surfaces, certain of the materials are
metamorphosed into wax. In this place starch passes into
one of its isomeric equivalents, sugar ; and in that place
into another of its isomeric equivalents, gum. By secondary
change some of the cellulose is modified into wood; while
some of it is modified into the allied substance which, in
large masses, we distinguish as cork. And the more numer-
ous compounds thus gradually arising, initiate further un-
likenesses by mingling in unlike ratios. An animal-
ovum, the components of which are at first evenly diffuser}
among one another, chemically transforms itself in like

THE LAW OP EVOLUTION CONTINUED. 335

manner. Its protein,, its fats, its salts, become dissimilarly
proportioned in different localities ; and multiplication of
isomeric forms leads to furtlier mixtures and combinations
tbat constitute many minor distinctions of parts. Here a
mass darkening by accumulation of bematine, presently dis-
Kolves into blood. There fatty and albuminous matters
uniting, compose nerve-tissue. At tbis spot tbe nitrogenous
substance takes on tbe character of cartilage ; and at tbat,
calcareous salts, gathering together in the cartilage, lay tbe
foundation of bone. All these chemical differentiations
slowly and insensibly become more marked and more mul-
tiplied.

Simultaneously there arise contrasts of minute struc-
ture. Distinct tissues take the place of matter that
had previously no recognizable unlikenesses of parts ; and
each of the tissues first produced undergoes secondary
modifications, causing sub-species of tissues. The

granular protoplasm of the vegetal germ, equally with that
which forms the unfolding point of every shoot, gives origin
to cells that are at first alike. Some of these, as they grow,
flatten and unite by their edges to form the outer layer.
Others elongate greatly, and at the same time join together
in bundles to lay the foundation of woody-fibre. Before
they begin to elongate, certain of these ceUs show a break-
ing-up of the Hning deposit, which, during elongation,
becomes a spiral thread, or a reticulated framework, or a
series of rings ; and by the longitudinal union of cells so
lined, vessels are formed. Meanwhile each of these dif-
ferentiated tissues is re-differentiated : instance that which
constitutes the essential part of the leaf, the upper
stratum of which is composed of chlorophyll- cells that
remain closely packed, while the lower stratum becomes
spongy. Of the same general character are the

transformations undergone by the fertilized ovum, which, at
first a cluster of similar cells quickly reaches a stage in
which these cells have become dissimilar. More frequently ro*

336 TUB LAW OP EVOLUTION CONTINUED.

curring fission of the superficial cells^ a resulting smaller
size of tliein, and subsequent union of them into an outer
layer, constitute tlie first difierentiation ; and tlie middle
area of this layer is rendered unlike the rest by still more
active processes of like kind. By such modifications upon
modifications, too multitudinous to enumerate here, arise
the classes and sub-classes of tissues which, variously in-
volved one with another, compose organs.

Equally conforming to the law are the changes of general
shape and of the shapes of organs. All germs are at first
spheres and all organs are at first buds or mere rounded
lumps. From this primordial uniformity and simplicity,
there takes place divergence, both of the wholes and the
leading parts, towards multiformity of contour and towards
complexity of contour. Cut away the compactly-

folded young leaves that terminate every shoot, and the
nucleus is found to be a central knob bearing lateral knobs,
one of which may grow into either a leaf, a sepal, a petal,
a stamen, a carpel : all these eventually-unlike parts being at
first alike. The shoots themselves also depart from their
primitive unity of form; and while each branch becomes more
or less difierent from the rest, the whole exposed part of the
plant becomes difierent from the imbedded part. So,

too, is it with the organs of animals. One of the Articulata,
for instance, has limbs that are originally indistinguishable
from one another — compose a homogeneous series ; but by
continuous divergences there arise among them unliknesses
of size and form, such as we see in the crab and the lobster.
Vertebrate creatures equally exemplify this truth. The
wings and legs of a bird are of similar shapes when they
bud-out from the sides of the embryo.

Ttius in every plant and animal, conspicuous secon-
dary re-distributions accompany the primary re-distribu-
tion. A first difierenco between two parts ; in each
of these parts other difiercnces that presently become aa
marked as the first ; and a like multiplication of difierences

THE LAW OP EVOLUTION CONTINUED. 337

in geometrical progression,, until there is reached tliat com-
plex combination constituting tlie adult. This is the history
of all living things whatever. Pui*suing an idea which
Harvey set afloat^ it has been shown by Wolff and Yon Baer,
that during its evolution each organism passes from a stato
Df homogeneity to a state of heterogeneity. For a gene-
ration this truth has been accepted by biologists.*

§ 120. When we pass from individual forms of life to life
in general^ and ask whether the same law is seen in the
ensemble of its manifestations — whether modern plants and
animals have more heterogeneous structures than ancient ones,

* It was in 1852 that I became acquainted with Von Baer'a expression of
this general principle. The universality of law had ever been with me a
postulate, carrying with it a correlative belief, tacit if not avowed, in unity
of method throughout Nature. This statement that every plant and
animal, originally homogeneous becomes gradually heterogeneous, set up a
process of co-ordination among accumulated thoughts that were previously
unorganized, or but partially organized. It is true that in Social Statics
(Part IV., §§ 12—16), written before meeting with Von Baer's formula,^
the development of an individual" organism and the development of the
social organism, are described as alike consisting in advance from simplicity
to complexity, and from independent like parts to mutually-dependent
unlike parts — a parallelism implied by Milne-Edwards' doctrine of "the
physiological division of labour." But though admitting of extension to
other super- organic phenomena, this statement was too special to admit of
extension to inorganic phenomena. The great aid rendered by Von Baer'a
formula arose from its higher generality ; since, only when organic trai: -
formations had been expressed in the most general terms, was the way
opened for seeing what they had in common with inorganic transformations.
The conviction that this process of change gone through by each evolving
organism, is a process gone thi'ough by all things, found its first coherent
statement in an essay on *' Progress : its Law and Cause ; " which I pub-
lished in the Westminster Review for April, 1857 — an essay with the first
half of which this chapter coincides in substance, and partly in form.
In that essay, however, as also in the first edition of this work, I
fell into the error of supposing that the transformation of the homo-
geneous into the heterogeneous constitutes Evolution j whereas, as w %
have seen, it constitutes the secondary re -distribution accompanying
the primary re-distribution in that Evolution which we distinguish as com-
pound— or gather, as we shall presently see, it constitutes the mjoat con-,
Bpicuous part of this secondary re-distribution.
16

338 THE LAW OP EVOLUTION COI^'TTXUED.

and whetlier the Earth's present Flora and Fauna are more

ricterogeneous than the Flora and Fauna of the past, — we find
die evidence so fragmentary, that every conclusion is open to
dispute. Two- thirds of the Earth's surface being covered
by water ; a great part of the exposed land being inaccessible
to, or untravelled by, the geologist ; the greater part of the
remainder having been scarcely more than glanced at ; and
even the most familiar portions, as England, having been so
imperfectly explored, that a new series of strata has been
added within these few years, — it is manifestly impossible for
us to say with any certainty what creatures have, and what
have not, existed at any particular period. Considering the
perishable nature of many of the lower organic forms, the
metamorphosis of many sedimentary strata, and the gaps that
occur among the rest, we shall see further reason for distrust-
ing our deductions. On the one hand, the repeated discovery
of vertebrate, remains in strata previously supposed to contain
none, — of reptiles where only fish were thought to exist, — of
mammals where it was believed there were no creatures higher
than reptiles ; renders it daily more manifest how small is the
value of negative evidence. On the other hand, the ^orthless-
ness of the assumption that we have discovered the earliest,
or anything like the earliest, organic remains, is becoming
equally' clear. That the oldest known aqueous formations have
been greatly changed by igneous action, and that still older
ones have been totally transformed by it, is becoming undeni-
able. And the fact that sedimentary strata earlier than any
we know, have been melted up, being admitted, it must also
be admitted that we cannot say how far back in time this
destruction of sedimentary strata has been going on. Thus it
13 manifest that the title Palcsozoic, as applied to the earliest
known fossiliferous strata, involves a petitio principii ; and
that; for aught we know to the contrary, only the last few
chapters of the Earth's biological history may have come down
to us.

All inferences drawn from such scattered fiicts as we find*

THE LAW OF EVOLUTION CONTINUED. OOV

must thus be extremely questionable. If, looking at the
general aspect of evidence, a progressionist- argues that the
earliest known vertebrate remains are tbose of Fishes, which
are the most homogeneous of the vertebrata ; that E-eptiles,
which are more heterogeneous, are later ; and that later stUl,
and more heterogeneous still, are Mammals and Birds ; it may
be replied that the Palaeozoic deposits, not being estuary de-
posits, are not likely to contain the remains of terrestrial ver-
tebrata, which may nevertheless have existed at that era.
The same answer may be made to the argument that the
vertebrate fauna of the Palaeozoic period, consisting so far as
we know, entirely of Fishes, was less heterogeneous than the
modern vertebrate fauna, which includes Eeptiles, Birds and
Mammals, of multitudinous genera ; or the uniformitarian
may contend with great show of truth, that this appearance
of higher and more varied forms in later geologic eras, was
due to progressive immigration — that a continent slowly
upheaved from the ocean at a point remote from pre-existing
continents, would necessarily be peopled from them in a suc-
cession like that which our strata display. At the
same time the counter- arguments may be proved equally in-
conclusive. "When, to show that there cannot have been a con-
tinuous evolution of the more homogeneous organic forms
into the more heterogeneous ones, the. uniformitarian points
to the breaks that occur in the succession of these forms ; there
is the sufficient answer that current geological changes show
us why such breaks mMst occur, and why, by subsidences and
elevations of large area, there must be produced such marked
breaks as those which divide the three great geologic epochs.
Or again, if the opponent of the development hj^othesis cites
the facts set forth by Professor Huxley in his lecture on
" Persistent Types "—if he points out that " of some two
hundred known orders of plants, not one is exclusively fossil,''
-while " among animals, there is not a single totally extinct
class ; and of the orders, at the outside not more than seven
per cent, are unrepresented in the existing creation " — ii' he

340 TUE LAW OP EVOLUTION CONTINUED.

urges that among these some have continued from the
Silurian epoch to our own day with scarcely any change —
and if he infers that there is evidently a much greater average
resemblance between the living forms of the past and those of
the present, than consists with this hj^othesis ; there is still
a satisfactory reply, on which in fact Prof. Huxley insists ;
namely, that we have evidence of a " pre-goologic era " of
unlaiown duration. And indeed, when it is remembered,
that the enormous subsidences of the Silurian period show
the Earth's crust to have been approximately as thick then as
it is now — when it is concluded that the time taken to form
so thick a crust, must have been immense as compared with
the time which has since elapsed — when it is assumed, as it
must be, that during this comparatively immense time the
geologic and biologic changes went on at their usual rates ;
it becomes manifest, not only that the palaeontological
records which we find, do not negative the theoiy of
evolution, but that they are such as might rationally bo
looked for.

Moreover, it must not be forgotten that though the evidence
suffices neither for proof nor disproof, yet some of its most
conspicuous facts support the belief, that the more heteroge-
neous organisms and groups of organisms, have been evolved
from the less heterogeneous ones. The average community
of type between the fossils of adjacent strata, and still more
the community that is found between the latest tertiary
fossils and creatures now existing, is one of these facts. The
discovery in some modern deposits of such forms as the
PaloDotherium and Anaplotherium, which, if we may rely on
Prof. Owen, had a type of structure intermediate between
some of the types now existing, is another of these facts. And
the comparatively recent appearance of Man, is a third fact of
this kind, which possesses still greater significance. Hence
we may say, that though our knowledge of past life upon the
Earth, is too scanty to justify us in asserting an evolution of
the simple into the complex, either in individual forms or in

THE LAW OP EVOLUTION CONTINUED. 341

the aggregate of forms ; yet the knowledge we have, not only
consists with the belief that there has been such an evolution,
but rather supports it than otherwise.

§121.^^Tiether an advance from the homogeneous to the
heterogeneous is or is not displayed in the biological history
of the globe, it is clearly enough displayed in the progress of
the latest and most heterogeneous creature — Man. It is alike
true that, during the period in which the Earth has been
peopled, the human organism has grown more heterogeneous
among the ci\alized divisions of the species; and that the
species, as a whole, has been made more heterogeneous by
the multiplication of races and the differentiation of these
races from each other. In proof of the first of these

positions, we may cite the fact that, in the relative develop-
ment of the limbs, the civilized man departs more widely
from the general type of the placental mammalia, than do the
lower human races. Though often possessing well-developed
body and arms, the Papuan has extremely small legs : thus
reminding us of the quadrumana, in which there is no great
contrast in size between the hind and fore limbs. But in the
European, the greater length and massiveness of the legs has
become very marked — the fore and hind limbs are relatively
more heterogeneous. Again, the greater ratio which the
cranial bones bear to the facial bones, illustrates the same
truth. Among the vertebrata in general, evolution is marked
by an increasing heterogeneity in the vertebral column, and
more especially in the segments constituting the skidl : the
Ligher forms being distinguished by the relatively larger size
of the bones which cover the brain, and the relatively smaller
size of those which form the jaws, &e. Now, this character-
istic, which is stronger in- Man than in any other creature, is
stronger in the .European than in the savage. Moreover,
judging from the greater extent and variety of faculty he ex-
hibits, we may infer that the civilized man has also a more
com^^lex or heterogeneous nervous system than the uncivil-

842 TIIE LAW OP EVOLUTION CONTINUED.

ized man ; and indeed the fact is in part visible in the in-
creased ratio which his cerebrum bears to the subjacent
ganglia. If further elucidation be needed, we may find it in
every nursery. The infant European has sundry marked
points of resemblance to the lower human races ; as in the
flatness of the alse of the nose, the depression of its bridge, the
divergence and forward opening of the nostrils, the form of
the lips, the absence of a frontal sinus, the vridth between the
eyes, the smallness of the legs. JN^ow, as the developmental
process by which these traits are turned into those of the
adult European, is a continuation of that change from the
homogeneous to the heterogeneous displayed during the pre-
vious evolution of the embryo, which every physiologist will
admit ; it follows that the parallel developmental process by
which the like traits of the barbarous races have been turned
into those of the civilized races, has also been a continuation
of the change from the homogeneous to the heterogene-
ous. The truth of the second position — that Mankind,
as a whole, have become more heterogeneous — is so obvious as
scarcely to need illustration. Every work on Ethnology, by
its divisions and subdivisions of races, bears testimony to it.
Even were we to admit the hypothesis that Mankind origin-
ated from several separate stocks, it would still remain true
that as, from each of these stocks, there have sprung many
now widely different tribes, which are proved by philological
evidence to have had a common origin, the race as a whole
is far less homogeneous than it once was. Add to which,
that we have, in the Anglo-Americans, an example of a new
variety arising within these few generations ; and that, if we
may trust to the descriptions of observers, we are likely soon
to have another such example in AustraKa.

§ 122. On passing from Humanity under its individual form,
to Humanity as socially embodied, we find the general law still
more variously exemplified. The change from the homo-
geneous to the heterogeneous, is displayed equally in the

THE LAW OF EVOLUTION CONTINUED. 3i'J

progress of civilization as a whole, and in the progress of
every tribe or nation ; and is stiU going on with increasing
rapidity.

As we see in existing barbarous tribes, society in its first
and lowest form is a homogeneous aggregation of individuals
having like powers and like functions : the only marked dif-
ference of function being that which accompanies difference
of sex. Every man is warrior, hunter, fisherman, tool-maker,
builder ; every woman performs the same drudgeries ; every
family is self-sufficing, and, save for purposes of aggression
and defence, might as well live apart from the rest. Very
early, however, in the process of social evolution, we find an
incipient differentiation between the governing and the go-
verned. Some Idnd of chieftainship seems coeval with the
first advance from the state of separate wandering families to
that of a nomadic tribe. The authority of the strongest
makes itself felt among a body of savages, as in a herd of ani-
mals, or a posse of schoolboys. At first, however, it is indefi-
nite, uncertain ; is shared by others of scarcely inferior power ;
and is unaccompanied by any difference in occupation or style
of living : the first ruler kills his owti game, makes his own
weapons, builds his own hut, and, economically considered,
does not differ from others of his tribe. Gradually, as the
tribe progresses, the contrast between the governing and the
governed grows more decided. Supreme power becomes here-
ditary in one family ; the head of that family, ceasing to pro-
vide for his own wants, is served by others ; and he begins to
assume the sole office of ruling. At the same timo

there has been arising a co-ordinate species of government
— that of Religion. As all ancient records and traditions
prove, the earliest rulers are regarded as divine personages.
I'he maxims and comihands they uttered during their lives
are held sacred after their deaths, and are enforced by their
divinely-descended successors; who in their turns are pro-
moted to the pantheon of the race, there to be worshipped
and propitiated along with their predecessors • the most an-

i344 THE LAW OF EVOLUTION CONTINUED.

cient of wlioin is the supreme god, and the rest subordinate
gods. For a long time these connate forms of government —
civil and religious — continue closely associated. For many
generations the king continues to be the chief priest, and the
priesthood to be members of the royal race. For many ages
religious law continues to contain more or less of civil regula-
tion, and civil law to possess more or less of religious sanc-
tion ; and even among the most advanced nations these two
controUing agencies are by no means completely differentiated
from each other. Having a common root with these,

and gradually diverging from them, we find yet another con-
trolling agency — that of Manners or ceremonial usages. AU
titles of honour are originally the names of the god-king ;
afterwards of God and the king ; stiU. later of persons of high
ranli ; and finally come, some of them, to be used between
man and man. All forms of complimentary address were at
first the expressions of submission from prisoners to their
conqueror, or from subjects to their ruler, either human or
divine — expressions that were afterwards used to propitiate
subordinate authorities, and slowly descended into ordinary
intercourse. All modes of salutation were once obeisances
made before the monarch and used in worship of him after
his death. Presently others of the god-descended race were
similarly saluted; and by degrees some of the salutations
have become the due of all.* Thus, no sooner does the origin-
ally homogeneous social mass differentiate into the governed
and the governing parts, than this last exhibits an incipient
differentiation into religious and secular — Church and State ;
while at the same time there begins to be differentiated from
hothj that less defuiite species of government which rules
our daily intercourse — a species of government which, as wo
may see in heralds' colleges, in books of the peerage, in masters
of ceremonies, is not without a certain embodiment of its
own. Each of these kinds of government is itself sub-

ject to successive differentiations. In the course of ages, there
• For detailed proof of thet;e assertioub sec essay on J\fcin7icrs and Fashion.

THE LAW OP EVOLUTION CONTINUED. 845

arises, as among ourselves, a higUy complex political organ
ization of monarcli, ministers, lords and commons, with theii
jubordinate administrative departments, courts of justice,
revenue offices, &c., supplemented in the provinces by muni-
cipal governments, county governments, parish or union
governments — all of them more or less elaborated. By its
side there grows up a highly complex religious organization,
with its various grades of officials from archbishops down to
sextons, its colleges, convocations, ecclesiastical courts, &c. ;
to all which must be added the ever-multiplying independent
sects, each with its general and local authorities. And at tho
same time there is developed a highly complex aggregation
of customs, manners, and temporary fashions, enforced by
society at large, and serving to control those minor trans-
actions between man and man which are not regulated by
civil and religious law. Moreover, it is to be observed that
this ever-increasing heterogeneity in the governmental ap-
pliances of each nation, has been accompanied by an increas-
ing heterogeneity in the governmental appliances of diffijrent
nations : aU of which are more or less unlike in their political
systems and legislation, in their creeds and religious institu-
tions, in their customs and ceremonial usages.

Simultaneously there has been going on a second differen-
tiation of a more famihar kind ; that, namely, by which the
mass of the commimity has been segregated into distinct
classes and orders of workers. While the governing part has
undergone the complex development above detailed, the go-
verned part has undergone an equally complex development ;
which has resulted in that minute division of labour charac-
terizing advanced nations. It is needless to trace,
out this progress from its first stages, up through the caste
divisions of the East and the incorporated guilds of Europe,
to the elaborate producing and distributing organization ex-
isting among ourselves. Political economists have long since
indicated the evolution which, beginning with a tribe whose
members severally perform the same actions, each for himself

5-10 THE LAW OP EVOLUTION CONTINUED.

ends with a civilized community whose members severally
perform different actions for each other ; and they have fur-
ther pointed out the changes through which the solitary pro-
ducer of any one commodity, is transformed into a combination
of producers who, united under a master, take separate parts
in the manufacture of such commodity. But there

are yet other and higher phases of this advance from tlir
homogeneous to the heterogeneous in the industrial organiz-
ation of society. Long after considerable progress ha^s been
made in the division of labour among the different classes of
workers, there is stiD. little or no division of labour among the
widely separated parts of the community : the nation continues
comparatively homogeneous in the respect that in each district
the same occupations are pursued. But when roads and other
means of transit become numerous and good, the different
districts begin to assume different functions, and to become
mutually dependent. The calico-manufacture locates itself in
this county, the wooUen-manufacture in that ; silks are pro-
duced here, lace there ; stockings in one place, shoes in an-
other ; pottery, hardware, cutlery, come to have their special
towns ; and ultimately every locality grows more or less dis-
tinguished from the rest by the leading occupation carried on
in it. Nay, more, this subdivision of functions shows itself
not only among the different parts of the same nation, but
among different nations. That exchange of commodities
which free-trade promises so greatly to increase, will ulti-
mately have the effect of specializing, in a greater or less
degree, the industry of each people. So that begin-

ning with a barbarous tribe, almost if not quite homogeneous
in the functions of its members, the progress has been, and
still is, towards an economic aggregation of the whole human
race; growing ever more heterogeneous in respect of the
separate functions assumed by separate nations, the separate
functions assumed by the local sections of each nation, the
separate functions assumed by the many kinds of makers
and traders in each town, and the separate functions as-

THE LAW OF EVOLUTION CONTINUED. 347

wimed by tho workers united in producing each com-
modity.

§123. Not only is the law thus clearly exemplified in the
evolution of the social organism, but it is exemplified with
equal clearness in the evolution of all products of himian
thought and action ; whether concrete or abstract, real or
ideal. Let us take Language as our first illustration.

The lowest form of language is the exclamation, by which
an entire idea is vaguely conveyed through a single sound ; as
among the lower animals. That himian language ever con-
sisted solely of exclamations, and so was strictly homogeneous
in respect of its parts of speech, we have no evidence. But
that language can be traced down to a form in wliich nouns
and verbs are its only elements, is an established fact. In
the gradual multiplication of parts of speech out of these
primary ones — in the difierentiation of verbs into active and
passive, of nouns into abstract and concrete — in the rise of
distinctions of mood, tense, person, of number and case— in
the fonnation of auxiliary verbs, of adjectives, adverbs, pro-
nouns, prepositions, articles — in the divergence of thos:* orders,
genera, species, and varieties of parts of speech by which
civilized races express minute modifications of meaning— we
see a change from the homogeneous to the heterogeneous.
And it may be remarked, in passing, that it is more especi--
ally in virtue of having carried this subdivision of functions
to a greater extent and completeness, that the English
language is superior to all others. Another aspect

under which we may trace the development of language, is
the differentiation of words of allied meanings. Philology
early disclosed tlie truth that in all languages words
may be grouped into families having a common ances-
try. An aborig^ial name, applied indiscriminately to each of
an extensive and ill- defined class of things or actions, pre-
eeutly undergoes modifications by which the chief divisions
of the class are expressed. These several names springing

348 THE LAW OF EVOLUTION CONTINUED.

from the primitive root, themselves become the parents of
other names still further modified. And by the aid of those
systematic modes which presently arise, of making derivatives
and forming compound terms expressing still smaller dis-
tinctions, there is finally developed a tribe of words so
heterogeneous in sound and meaning, that to the uninitiated
it seems incredible they should have had a common origin.
Meanwhile, from other roots there are being evolved other
such tribes, until there results a language of some sixty
thousand or more unlike words, signifying as many unlike
objects, qualities, acts. Yet another way in which

language in general advances from the homogeneous to the
heterogeneous, is in the multiplication of languages. Whe-
ther, as Max Miiller and Bunsen think, all languages have
grown from one stock, or whether, as some philologists say,
they have grown from two or more stocks, it is clear that
since large families of languages, as the Indo-European, are
of one parentage, they have become distinct through a pro-
cess of continuous divergence. The same diffusion over the
Earth's surface which has led to the differentiation of the
race, has simultaneously led to a differentiation of their
speech: a truth which we see further illustrated in each
nation by the peculiarities of dialect found in separate dis-
tricts. Thus the progress of Language conforms to the
general law, alike in the evolution of languages, in the
evolution of families of words, and in the evolut^-^n of parts
of speech.

On passing from spoken to written language, we come upon
several classes of facts, all having similar implications.
Written language is connate with Painting and Sculpture ;
and at first all three are appendages of Architecture, and
have a direct connexion with the primary form of all Govern-
ment— the theocratic. Merely noting by' the way the fact
that sundry wild races, as for example the Australians and
the tribes of South Africa, are given, to depicting personages
and events upon the walls of caves, which are probably ro-

THE LAW OF EVOLUTION CO^^TINUED. 8^i9

gardcd as sacred places, let us pass to the case of the Egyp-
tians. Among them, as also among the Assyrians, we find
mural paintings used to decorate the temple of the god and
the palace of the king (which were, indeed, originally identi-
cal) ; and as such they were governmental appliances in the
same sense that state-pageants and religious feasts were.
Further, they were governmental appliances in virtue of
representing the worship of the god, the triumphs of the
god-king, the submission of his subjects, and the punishment
of the rebellious. And yet again they were governmental,
as being the products of an art reverenced by the people as a
sacred mystery. From the habitual use of this

pictorial representation, there naturally grew up the but
slightly-modified practice of picture-writing — a practice
which was found still extant among the Mexicans at the time
they were discovered. By abbreviations analogous to those
still going on in our own written and spoken language, the
most familiar of these pictured figures were successively
simplified ; and ultimately there grew up a system of symbols,
most of TN'hich had but a distant resemblance to the things
for which they stood. The inference that the hieroglyphics
of the Egyptians were thus produced, is confirmed by the fact
that the picture-writing of the Mexicans was found to have
given birth to a like family of ideographic forms ; and among
them, as among the Egyptians, these had been partially
differentiated into the kuriological or imitative, and the
tropical or symbolic : which were, however, used together in
the same record. In Eg^-pt, written language underwent a
further differentiation ; whence resulted the hieratic and the
ejnstolographic or enchorial : both of which are derived from
the original hieroglyphic. At the same time we find that
for the expression of proper names, which could not be other-
wise conveyed, phonetic symbols were employed ; and though
it is alleged that the Egj^tians never actually achieved com-
plete alphabetic writing, yet it can scarcely be doubted that
these phonetic symbols occasionally used in aid of their

S50 THE LAW OF EVOLUTION CONTINUED,

ideograpliic ones, were the germs out of wliich. alphabetic
writing grew. Once having become separate from hierogly-
pliics, alphabetic writing itself underwent numerous difier-
entiations — multiplied alphabets were produced: between
most of which, however, more or less connexion can still be
traced. And in each civilized nation there has now grown
up, for the representation of one set of sounds, several sets of
written signs, used for distinct purposes. Finally, through a
yet more important diiFerentiation came printing ; which, uni-
form in kind as it w^as at first, has since become multiform.

§124. While written language was passing through its
earlier stages of development, the mural decoration which
formed its root was being differentiated into Painting and
Sculpture. The gods, kings, men, and animals represented,
were originally marked by indented outlines and coloured.
In most cases these outlines were of such depth, and the
object they circumscribed so far rounded and marked out in
its leading parts, as to form a species of work intermediate
between intaglio and bas-relief. In other cases we see an
advance upon this : the raised spaces between the figures
being chiselled off, and the figures themselves appropriately
tinted, a painted bas-relief was produced. The restored
Assyrian architecture at Sydenham, exhibits this style of art
carried to greater perfection — the persons and things repre-
sented, though still barbarously coloured, are carved out
with more truth and in greater detail ; and in the winged
lions and bulls used for the angles of gatew^ays, we may see
a considerable advance towards a completely sculptured
figure ; which, nevertheless, is still coloured, and still forms
part of the building. Eut while in Assyria the production
of a statue proper, seems to have been little, if at all, at-
tempted, we may trace in Egj^tian art the gradual separation
of the sculptured figure from the wall. A walk through the
collection in the British Museum will clearly show this ;
whQe it will at the same time afford an opportunity of ob

THE I^UV OP EVOLUTION CONTINUED. 351

serving the evident traces wliicli the independent statues bear
of their derivation from bas-relief : seeing that nearly all of
tliem not only display that union of the limbs with the bodj
which is the characteristic of bas-relief, but have the back of
the statue united from head to foot with a block which
stands in place of the original wall. Greece repeat-

ed the leading stages of this progress. As in Egypt and
Assyria, these twin arts were at first united with each other
and with their parent. Architecture ; and were the aids of
lleKgion and Government. On the friezes of Greek temples,
U'e see coloured bas-reliefs representing sacrifices, battles,
processions, games — all in some sort religious. On the pedi-
ments we see painted sculptures more or less united with the
t5rmpanum, and having for subjects the triumphs of gods or
heroes. Even when we come to statues that are definitely
separated from the buildings to which they pertain, we still
find them coloured ; and only in the later periods of Greek
civilization, docs the differentiation of sculpture from paint-
ing appear to have become complete. In Christian
art we may clearly trace a parallel re-genesis. All early
paintings and sculptures throughout Europe, were religious
in subject — represented Christs, crucifixions, virgins, holy
families, apostles, saints. They formed integral parts of
church architecture, and were among the means of exciting
worship : " as in Roman Catholic countries they still are.
Moreover, the early sculptures of Christ on the cross, of
virgins, of saints, were coloured ; and it needs but to call to
mind the painted madonnas and crucifixes still abundant in
continental churches and highways, to perceive the significant
fact that painting and sculpture continue in closest connexion
with each other, where they continue in closest connexion
with their parent. Even when Christian sculpture was
pretty clearly differentiated from paintiag, it was stiU religious
and governmental in its subjects — was used for tombs in
churches and statues of kings ; while, at the same time,
painting, where not purely ecclesiastical, was applied to the

852 THE LAW OP EVOLUTION CONTINUED.

decoration of palaces, and besides representing royal person-
ages, was almost wholly devoted to sacred legends. Only in
quite recent times have painting and sculpture become
entirely secular arts. Only within these few centuries has
painting been divided into historical, landscape, marine,
architectural, genre, animal, still-life, &c., and sculpture
grown heterogeneous in respect of the variety of real and
ideal subjects with which it occupies itself.

Strange as it seems then, we find it no less true, that aU.
forms of written language, of painting, and of sculpture, have
a common root in the politico-religious decorations of ancient
temples and palaces. Little resemblance as they now have,
the bust that stands on the console, the landscape that hangs
against the wall, and the copy of the Times lying upon the
table, are remotely akin ; not only in nature, but by extraction.
The brazen face of the knocker which the postman has just
lifted, is related not only to the woodcuts of the Illustrated Lon-
don Neics which he is delivering, but to the characters of the
billet-doux which accompanies it. Between the painted window,
the prayer-book on which its light falls, and the adjacent
monument, there is consanguinity. The efiigies on our coins,
the signs over shops, the figures that fill every ledger, the coat
of arms outside the carriage-panel, and the placards inside the
omnibus, are, in common with dolls, blue-books and paper-hang-
ings, lineally descended from the rude sculpture-paintings iu
which the Egj^ptians represented the triumphs and worship
of their god- kings. Perhaps no example can be given which
more vividly illustrates the multiplicity and hetarogeneity
of the products that in course of time may arise by successive
differentiations from a common stocky

Before passing to other classes of facts, it should be observ-
ed that the evolution of the homogeneous into the hetero-
geneous is displayed not only in the separation of Painting
and Sculpture from Architecture and from each other, and in
the greater variety of subjects they embody ; but it is further
shown in the Btructure of each work. A modern picture or

IHE LAW OF EVOLUTION CONTINUED. 353

statue is of far more heterogeneous nature than an ancient
one. An Egyptian sculpture-fresco represents all its figures
as on one plane — that is, at the same distance from the eye ;
and so is less heterogeneous than a painting that represents
them as at various distances from the eye. It exhihits all ob-
jects as exposed to the same degree of light ; and so is less
heterogeneous than a painting which exhibits different ob-
jects, and different parts of each object, as in different degrees
of light. It uses scarcely any but the primary colours, and
these in their full intensity ; and so is less heterogeneous than
a painting which, introducing the primary colours but sparing-
ly, employs an endless variety of intermediate tints, each of
heterogeneous composition, and differing from the rest not
only in quality but in intensity. Moreover, we sec

in these earliest works a great uniformity of conception. The
same arrangement of figures is perpetually reproduced — the
same actions, attitudes, faces, dresses. In Egypt the modes of
representation were so fixed that it was sacrilege to introduce
a novelty ; and indeed it could have been only in consequence
of a fixed mode of representation that a system of hierogly-
phics became possible. The Assjrrian bas-reliefs display par-
allel characters. Deities, kings, attendants, winged-figures
and animals, are severally depicted in like positions, holding
like implements, doing like things, and with like expression or
non-expression of face. If a palm- grove is introduced, all the
trees are of the same height, have the same number of leaves,
and are equidistant. When water is imitated, each wave is
a counterpart of the rest ; and the fish, almost always of one
land, are evenly distributed over the surface. The beards of
the kings, the gods, and the winged-figures, are everywhere
similar ; as are the manes of the lions, and equally so those of
the horses. Hair is represented throughout by one form of
curl. The king's beard is quite architecturally built up of com-
pound tiers of uniform cmis, alternating with twisted tiers
placed in a transverse direction, and arranged with perfect
regularity ; and the terminal tufts of the bulls* tails are re-

354 THE LAW OP EVOLUTION CONTINUED.

presented in exactly the same manner. Without

tracing out analogous facts in early Christian art, in which,
though less striking, they are still visible, the advance in
heterogeneity will be sufficiently manifest on remembering that
in the pictures of our own day the composition is endlessly
varied ; the attitudes, faces, expressions, unlike ; the subor-
dinate objects different in size, form, position, texture ; and
more or less of contrast even in the smallest details. Or, if
we compare an Egyptian statue, seated bolt upright on a
block, with hands on knees, fingers outspread and parallel,
eyes looking straight forward, and the two sides perfectly S}in-
metrical in every particular, with a statue of the advanced
Greek or the modern school, which is asymmetrical in respect
of the position of the head, the body, the limbs, the arrange-
ment of the hair, dress, appendages, and in its relations to
neighbouring objects, we shall see the change from the homo-
geneous to the heterogeneous clearly manifested.

§ 125. In the co-ordinate origin and gradual differentiation
of Poetry, Music, and Dancing, we have another series of illus-
trations. E-hythm in speech, rhythm in sound, and rhythm
in motion, were in the beginning, parts of the same thing ;
and have only in process of time become separate things.
Among various existing barbarous tribes we find them still
united. The dances of savages are accompanied by some kind
of monotonous chant, the clapping of hands, the striking of
rude instruments : there are measured movements, measured
words, and measured tones ; and the whole ceremony, usually
having reference to war or sacrifice, is of governmental cha.-
racter. In the early records of the historic races we similarly
find these three forms of metrical action united in religious
festivals. In the Hebrew writings we read that the triumphal
ode composed by Moses on the defeat of the Egyptians, was
sung to an accompaniment of dancing and timbrels. The
Israelites danced and sung " at the inauguration of the golden
calf. ■ And as it is generally agreed that this representation

THE LAW OP EVOLUTION CONTINUED. 855

of the Deity was borrowed from the mysteries of Apis, it is
probable that the dancing was copied from that of the Egyp-
tians on those occasions." There was an annual dance in
ShQoh on the sacred festival ; and David danced before the
ark. Again, in Greece the like relation is everywhere seen :
the original type being there, as probably in other cases, a
simultaneous chanting and mimetic representation of the life
and adventures of the god. The Spartan dances were ac-
companied by hymns and songs ; and in general the Greeks
had " no festivals or religious assemblies but what were ac-
companied with songs and dances '' — both of them being
forms of worship used before altars. Among the Homans,
too, there were sacred dances : the Salian and Lupercalian
Deing named as of that kind. And even in Christian countries,
as at Limoges in comparatively recent times, the people have
.danced in the choir in honour of a saint. The in-

cipient separation of these once united arts from each other
and from religion, was early visible in Greece. Probably
diverging from dances partly religious, partly warlike, as the
Corybantian, came the war-dances proper, of which there
were various kinds ; and from these resulted secular dances.
Meanwhile Music and Poetry, though still united, came to
have an existence separate from dancing. The aboriginal
Greek poems, religious in subject, were not recited but
chanted ; and though at first the chant of the poet was ac-
companied by the dance of the chorus, it ultimately grew
into independence. "Later still, when the poem had been
differentiated into epic and lyric — when it became the cust()m
to sing the lyric and recite the epic— poetry proper was born.
As during the same period musical instruments were being
multiplied, we may presume that music came to have an exist-
ence apart from words. And both of them were beginning
to assume other forms besides the religious. Facts

having like implications might be cited from the histories of
later times and peoples ; as the practices of our own early
minstrels, who sang to the harp heroic narratives versified

356 THE LAW OP EVOLUTION CONTINUED.

by themselves to music of tlieir own composition: thus
uniting tlie now separate offices of poet, composer, vocalist,
and instrumentalist. But, without further illustration, the
common origin and gradual differentiation of Dancing, Poetry,
and Music will be sufficiently manifest.

The advance from the homogeneous to the heterogeneous
is displayed not only in the separation of these arts from
each other and from religion, but also in the multiplied
differentiations which each of them afterwards imdergoes.
Not to^ dwell upon the numberless kinds of dancing that
have, in course of time, come into use ; and not to occupy
space in detailing the progress of poetry, as seen in the de-
velopment of the various forms of metre, of rhyme, and of
general organization ; let us confine our attention to music
as a type of the group. As argued by Dr .Burney,

and as implied by the customs of still extant barbarous races,
the first musical instruments were, without doubt, ^ercussiye
— .sticks, calabashes, tom-toms — and were used simply to
mark the time of the dance ; and in this constant repeti-
tion of the same sound, we see music in its most homo-
geneous form. The Egyptians had a lyre with three
strings. The early lyre of the Greeks had four, constituting
their tetrachord. In course of some centuries lyres of seven
and eight strings were employed. And, by the expiration of
a thousand years, they had advanced to their " great system "
of the double octave. Through all which changes there of
course arose a greater heterogeneity of melody. Simulta-
neously there came into use the different modes — Dorian,
Ionian, Phrygian, -^olian, and Lydian — answering to our
keys : and of these there were ultimately fifteen. As yet,
ijowever, there was but little heterogeneity in the time of
their music. Instrumental music during this period being
merely the accompaniment of vocal music, and vocal music
being completely subordinated to words, — the singer being
also the poet, chanting his own compositions and making the
lengths of his notes agree with the feet of his verses ; there

THE LAW OP EVOLUTION CONTINUED. 857

unavoidably arose a tiresome uniformity of measure, which,
as Dr Blimey says, " no resources of melody could disguise."
Lacking the complex rhythm obtained by our equal bars and
unequal notes, the only rhythm was that produced by the
quantity of the syllables, and was of necessity comparatively
monotonous. And further, it may be observed that the chant
thus resulting, being like recitative, was much less clearly
differentiated from ordinary speech than is our modern song.
N^evertheless, considering the extended range of notes in use,
the variety of modes, the occasional variations of time conse-
quent on changes of metre, and the multiplication of instru-
ments, we see that music had, towards the close of Greek
civilization, attained to considerable heterogeneity : not in-
deed as compared with our music, but as compared with that
which preceded it. As yet, however, there existed

nothing but melody : harmony was unknown. It was not
until Christian church-music had reached some development,
that music in parts was evolved ; and then it came into exist-
ence through a very unobtrusive differentiation. Difficult as
it may be to conceive, a priori, how the advance from melody
to harmony could take place without a sudden leap, it is none
the less true that it did so. The circumstance which prepared
the way for it, was the employment of two choirs singing al-
tjernately the same air. Afterwards it became the practice
(very possibly first suggested by ti mistake) for the second
choir to commence before the first had ceased ; thus producing
a fugue. With the simple airs then in use, a partially har-
monious fugue might not improbably thus result ; and a very
partially harmonious fugue satisfied the ears of that age, as
we know from still preserved examples. The idea having
once been given, the composing of airs productive of fugal
harmony would naturally grow up ; as in some way it did
grow up out of this alternate choir- singing. And from the
fugue to concerted music of two, three, four, and more parts,
the transition was easy Without pointing out in

detail the increasing complexity that resulted from introducing

358 THE LAW OP EVOLUTION CONTINUED.

notes of various lengtlis, from tlie multiplication of keys,
from the use of accidentals, from varieties of time, from mo-
dulations and so forth, it needs but to contrast music as it is,
with music as it was, to see how immense is the increase of
heterogeneity. We see this if, looking at music in its ensem-
ble, we enumerate its many different genera and species — if
we* consider the divisions into vocal, instrxmiental, and mixed;
and their subdivisions into music for different voices and dif-
ferent instruments — if we observe the many forms of sacred
music, from the simple hymn, the chant, the canon, motet,
anthem, &c.,up to the oratorio ; and the still more numerous
forms of secular music, from the ballad up to the serenata,
from the instrumental solo up to the symphony. Again, the
same truth is seen on comparing any one sample of aboriginal
music with a sample of modern music — even an ordinary
song for the piano ; which we find to be relatively highly
heterogeneous, not only in respect of the varieties in the pitch
and in the length of the notes, the number of different notes
sounding at the same instant in company with the voice, and
the variations of strength with which they are sounded and
sung, but in respect of the changes of key, the changes of
time, the changes of timhre of the voice, and the many other
modifications of expression. "While between the old mono-
tonous dance-chant and a grand opera of our own day, with
its endless orchestral complexities and vocal combinations,
the contrast in heterogeneity is so extreme that it seems
scarcely credible that the one should have been the ancestor of
Llie other.

§126. Were they needed, many further illustrations m'ght
be cited. Going back to the early time when the deeds of the
god-king, chanted and mimetically represented in dance"!
round his altar, were further narrated in picture-writings on
the walls of temples and palaces, and so constituted a rude
literature, we might trace the development of Literature
through phases in which, as in the Ilebrew Scriptures, it pre-

THE LAW OP EVOLUTION CONTINUED. 359

sents in one work, theology, cosmogony, history, biography,
civil law, ethics, poetry ; through other phases in which, as in
the Iliad, the religious, martial, historical, the epic, dramatic,
and lyric elements are similarly commingled ; down to its pre-
sent heterogeneous development, in which its divisions and
subdivisions are so numerous and varied as to defy complete
classification. Or we might track the evolution of Science :
beginning with the era in which it was not yet differentiated
from Art, and was, in union with Art, the handmaid of Re-
ligion ; passing through the era in which the sciences were so
few and rudimentary, as to be simultaneously cultivated by
the same philosophers ; and ending with the era in which the
genera and species are so numerous that few can enumerate
them, and no one can adequately grasp even one genus. Or
we might do the like with Architecture, with the Drama, with
Dress. But doubtless the reader is already weary of illustra-
tions ; and my promise has been amply fulfilled. I believe it
has been shown beyond question, that that which the German
physiologists have found to be a law of organic develop-
ment, is a law of all development. The advance from tho
simple to the complex, through a process of successive
differentiations, is seen alike in the earliest changes of tho
Universe to which we can reason our way back, and in the
earliest changes which we can inductively establish ; it is
seen in the geologic and climatic evolution of the Earth, and
of every single organism on its surface; it is seen in tho
evolution of Humanity, whether contemplated in the civil-
ized individual, or in the aggregations of races ; it is seen in
the evolution of Society, in respect alike of its political, its
religious, and its economical organization ; and it is seen in
the evolution of all those endless concrete and abstract pro-
ducts of human activity, which constitute the environment
of our daily life. From the remotest past which Science can
fathom, up to the novelties of yesterday, an essential trait of
Ef"olution has been tho transformation of the homogeneous
into the heterogeneous.

860 THE LAW OP EVOLUTION CONTINUED.

§ 127. Hence the general formula arrived at in tlie last
chapter needs supplementing. It is true that Evolution,
under its primary aspect, is a change from a less coherent
form to a more coherent form, consequent on the dissipation
of motion and integration of matter; but this is by no means
the whole truth. Along ^yith a passage from the coherent
to the incoherent, there goes on a passage from the uniform
to the multiform. Such, at least, is the fact wherever Evolu-
tion is compound; which it is in the immense majority of
cases. While there is a progressing concentration of the ••
aggregate, either by the closer approach of the matter
within its limits, or by the drawing in of further matter, or
by both; and while the more. or less distinct parts into
which the aggregate divides and sub-divides are severally con-
centrating; these parts are also becoming unhke — ^unhke in
size, or in form, or in texture, or in composition, or in several
or all of these. The same process is exhibited by the whole
\f and by its members. The entire mass is integrating, and
|/ simultaneously differentiating from other masses ; and each
member of it is also integrating and simultaneously differen-
tiating from other members.

Our conception, then, must unite these characters. As

^ we now understand it. Evolution is definable as a change

from an incoherent homogeneity to a coherent heterogeneity,

accompanying tho dissipation of motion and integration of

matter.

CHAPTER XVI.

THE LAW OF EVOLUTION CONTINUED

§ 128. But now, does this generalization express tlie
whole truth? Does it include everything essentially cha-
racterizing Evolution and exclude everything else ? Does
it comprehend all the phenomena of secondary re-distribution
which Compound Evolution presents, without comprehend-
ing any other phenomena? A critical examination of tho
facts will show that it does neither.

Changes from the less heterogeneous to the more hetero-
geneous, which do not come within what we call Evolution,
occur in every local disease. A portion of the body in which
there arises a morbid growth, displays a new differentiation.
Whether this morbid growth be, or be not, more hetero-
geneous than the tissues in which it is seated, is not the
question. The question is, whether the organism as a whok
is, or is not, rendered more heterogeneous by the addition
of a part unlike every pre-existing part, in form, or com-
position, or both. And to this question ihere can be none
but an affirmative answer. Again, it may be con-

tended that the earlier stages of decomposition in a dead
body involve increase of heterogeneity. Supposing the
chemical changes to commence in some parts sooner than i^^
other parts, as they commonly do ; and to affect different
tissues in different ways, as they must; it seems to be a
.necessary admission that the entire body, made up of undo-
composed parts and parts decomposed in various modes and
17

362 THE LAW OP EVOLUTION CONTINUED.

degrees, lias become more heterogeneous than it was.
ThougTi greater homogeneity will be the eventual result,, the
immediate result is the opposite. And yet this immediate
result is certainly not Evolution. Other instances

are furnished by social disorders and disasters. A rebellion,
which, while leaving some provinces undisturbed, develops
itself here in secret societies, there in public demonstrations,
and elsewhere in actual conflicts, necessarily renders the
society, as a whole, more heterogeneous. Or when a dearth
causes commercial derangement with its entailed bank-
ruptcies, closed factories, discharged operatives, food-riots,
incendiarisms; it is manifest that, as a large part of the
community retains its ordinary organization displaying the
usual phenomena, these new phenomena must be regarded
as adding to the complexity previously existing. But such
changes, so far from constituting further Evolution, are steps
towards Dissolution.

Clearly, then, the definition arrived at in the last chapter
is an imperfect one. The changes above instanced as coming
within the formula as it now stands, are so obviously unlike
the rest, that the inclusion of them implies some distinction
hitherto overlooked. Such further distinction we have now
to supply.

§ 129. At the same time that Evolution is a change from
the homogeneous to the heterogeneous, it is a change from
the indefinite to the definite. Along with an advance from
simplicity to complexity, there is an advance from confusion
to order — from undetermined arrangement to determined
arrangement. Development, no matter of what kind,
exhibits not only a multiplication of unlike parts, but an
increase in the distinctness with which these parts are
marked off from one another. And this is tlie distinction
souo-ht. Eor proof, it needs only to re-consider the

instances given above. The changes constituting disease,
have no such definiteness, either in locality, extent, or

THE LAW OP EVOLUTION CONTINUED. 363

outline, as tlie changes constituting development. Though,
certain morbid growths are more common in some parts of
the body than in others (as warts on the hands, cancer on
the breasts, tubercle in the lungs), yet they are not con-
fined to these parts; nor, when found on them, are they
anything like so precise in their relative positions as are
the normal parts around them. Their sizes are extremely
variable : they bear no such constant proportions to the
body as organs do. Their forms, too, are far less specific
than organic forms. And they are extremely confused in
their internal structures. That is, they are in all respects
comparatively indefinite. The like peculiarity

may be traced in decomposition. That total indefiniteness
to which a dead body is finally reduced, is a state towards
which the putrefactive changes tend from their commence-
ment. The advancing destruction of the organic com-
pounds, blurs the minute structure — diminishes its dis-
tinctness. From the portions that have undergone most
decay, there is a gradual transition to the less decayed
portions. And step by step the lines of organization,
once so precise, disappear. Similarly with social

changes of an abnormal kind. The disafiection which
initiates a political outbreak, implies a loosening of those
ties by which citizens are bound up into distinct classes
and sub-clashes. Agitation, growing into revolutionary
meetings, fuses ranks that are usually separated. Acts of
insubordination break through the ordained limits to indi«
vidual conduct ; and tend to obliterate the lines previously
existing between those in authority and those beneath
them. At the same time, by the arrest of trade, artizans
and others lose their occupations ; and in ceasing to be
functionally distinguished, merge into an indefinite mass.
And when at last there comes positive insurrection, all
magisterial and official powers, all class distinctions, and
all industrial differences, cease : organized society lapses
into an unorganized aggregation of social units. Similarly,

864 THE LAW OP EVOLUTION CONTINUED.

in so far as famines and pestilences cause changes from
order towards disorder, they cause changes from definite
arrangements to indefinite arrangements. •

Thus, then, is that increase of heterogeneity which con-
stitutes Evolution, distinguished from that increase of
heterogeneity which does not do so. Though in disease
and de^th, individual or social, the earliest modifications
are additions to the pre-existing heterogeneity, they are
not additions to the pre-existing definiteness. They begin
from the very outset to destroy this definiteness; and
gradually produce a heterogeneity that is indeterminate
instead of determinate. As a city, already multiform in its
variously-arranged structures of various architecture, may
be made more multiform by an earthquake, which leaves
part of it standing and overthrows other parts in difibrent
ways and degrees, but is at the same time reduced from
orderly arrangement to disorderly arrangement; so may
organized bodies be made for a time more multiform by
changes which are nevertheless disorganizing changes.
And in the one case as in another, it is the absence of
definiteness which distinguishes the multiformity of regres-
sion from the multiformity of progression.

If advance from the indefinite to the definite is an
essential characteristic of Evolution, we shall of course find
it everywhere displayed; as in the last chapter we' found
the advance from the homogeneous to the heterogeneous.
With a view of seeing whether it is so, let us now re-con-
sider the same several classes of facts.

§ 130. Beginning, as before, with a hypothetical illustra-
tion, we have to note that each step in the evolution of tho
Solar System, supposing it to have originated from diS'uscd
matter, was an advance towards more definite structure.
At first irregular in shape and with indistinct margin, tho
attenuated substance, as it concentrated and began to rotate,
must have assumed the form of an oblate spheroid, which.

THE LAW OF EVOLUTION JOXTINUED. 3G5

witli every increase of density^ became more specific in out-
line^ and tad its surface more sharply marked off from the
surrounding void. Simultaneously, the constituent por-
tions of nebulous matter, instead of moving independently
towards their common centre of gravity from all points,
and revolving round it in various planes, as they would at
first do, must have had these planes more and more merged
into a single plane, that became less variable as the concen-
tration progressed — ^became gradually defined.

According to th3 hypothesis, change from indistinct cha-
racters to distinct ones, was repeated in the evolution of
planets and satellites; and may in them be traced much
further. A gaseous spheroid is less definitely limited than
a fluid spheroid, since it is subject to largei* and more rapid
undulations of surface, and to much greater distortions of
general form ; and, similarly, a liquid spheroid, covered as it
must be with waves of various magnitudes, is less definite
than a solid spheroid. The decrease of oblatencss that goes
along with increase of integration, brings relative definite-
ness of other elements. A planet having an axis inclined
to the plane of its orbit, must, while its form is very
oblate, have its plane of rotation much disturbed by the
attraction of external bodies; whereas its approach to a
spherical form, involving a smaller processional motion,
involves less marked variations in the direction of its axis.

With progressing settlement of the space-relations, the
force-relations simultaneously become more settled. The
exact calculations of physical astronomy, show us how defi-
nite these force-relations now are ; while their original
indefiniteness is implied in the extreme difficulty, if not
impossibility, of subjecting the nebular hypothesis to mathe-
matical treatment.

§ 131. From that primitive m«lten state of the Earth
inferable from geological data — a state accounted for by the
nebular hypothesis but inexplicable on any other — the

866 THE LAW OF EVOLUTION CONTINUED.

transition to its existing state lias been tlirough stages in
wliicli tlie characters became more determiaate. Besides
being comparatively unstable in surface and contour, a liquid
Bpberoid is less specific tban a solid spberoid in baving no
fixed distribution of parts. Currents of molten matter,
tliougli kept to certain general circuits by tbe conditions of
equilibrium, cannot, in the absence of solid boundaries, be
precise or permanent in their directions : all parts must be
in motion with respect to other parts. But a superficial
solidification, even though partial, is manifestly a step
towards the establishment of definite relations of position.
In a thin crust, however, frequently ruptured by disturbing
forces, and moved by every tidal undulation, fixity of re-
lative position can be but temporary. Only as the crust
thickens, can there arise distinct ^nd settled geograpliical
relations. Observe, too, that when, on a surface

that has cooled to the requisite degree, there begins to pre-
cipitate the w^ater floating above as vapour, the deposits
cannot maintain any definiteness either of state or place.
Falling on a solid envelope not thick enough to preserve
anything beyond slight variations of level, the water must
form shallow pools over areas sufficiently cool to permit con-
densation ; which areas must pass insensibly into others that
are too hot for this, and must themselves from time to time
be so raised in temperature as to drive off the water lying
on them. With progressing refrigeration, however, — ^with
a growing thickness of crust, a consequent formation of
larger elevations and depressions, and the precipitation of
more atmospheric water, there comes an arrangement of
parts that is comparatively fixed in both time and space ;
and the definiteness of state and position increases, until
there results such a distribution of continents and oceans
as we now see — ^a distribution that is not only topographi-
cally precise, but also in its cliff-marked coast-lines presents
divisions of land from water more definite than could have
existed when all the uncovered areas were low islands with

THE LAW OP EVOLUTION CONTINUED. 367

filielving beacHeSj over wMcli the tide ebbed and flowed to
great distances.

Eespecting tbe cbaracteristics classed as geological, wo
may draw parallel inferences. Wliile the Earth's crust was
thin, mountain- chains were impossibilities : there could not
have been long and well-defined axes of elevation, with
distinct water-sheds and areas of drainage. Moreover, the
denudation of small islands by small rivers, and by tidal
streams both feeble and narrow, would produce no clearly-
marked sedimentary strata. Confused and varying masses
of detritus, such as we now find at the mouths of brooks,
must have been the prevailing formations. And these could
give place to distinct strata, only as there arose continents
and oceans, with their great rivers, long coast-lines, and
wide-spreading marine currents.

How there must simultaneously have resulted more de-
finite meteorological characters, need not be pointed out in
detail. That difierences of climates and seasons grew
relatively decided as the heat of the Sun became distin-
guishable from the proper heat of the Earth; and that
the production of more specific conditions in each locahty
was aided by increasing permanence in the distribution of
lands and seas ; are conclusions sufficiently obvious.

§ 132. Let us turn now to the evidence famished by
organic bodies. In place of deductive illustrations like the
foregoing, we shall -here find numerous illustrations which
have been inductively established, and are therefore less
open to criticism. The process of mammalian development,
for example, will supply us with numerous proofs ready-
described by embryologists.

The first change which the ovum of a mammal undergoes
after continued segmentation has reduced its ye^to a mul-
berry-like mass, is the appearance of a greater definiteness
in the peripheral cells of this mass ; each of which acquires
a distinct enveloping membrane. These peripheral cellsj

368 THE LAW OF EVOLUTION CONTINUED.

vaguely distinguished from the internal ones by their
minuter sub-division as well as by their greater complete-
ness, coalesce to form the blastoderm or germinal mem-
brane. Presently, one portion of this membrane is ren-
dered unlike the rest by the accumulation of cells still
more sub-divided, which, together, form an opaque
roundish spot. This area germinativa, as it is called,
shades off gradually into the surrounding parts of the
blastoderm; and the area jpellucida, subsequently formed
in the midst of it, is similarly without precise margin.
The " primitive trace,^^ which makes its appearance in the
centre of the area pellucida, and is the rudiment of that
vertebrate axis which is to be the fundamental character-
istic of the mature animal, is shown by its name to be
at first indefinite — a mere trace. Beginning as a shallow
groove, it becomes slowly more pronounced: its sides
grow higher; their summits overlap, and at last unite;
and so the indefinite groove passes into a definite tube,
forming the vertebral canal. In this vertebral canal the
loading divisions of the brain are at first discernible only
as slight bulgings ; while the vertebrae commence as
indistinct modifications of the tissue bounding the canal.
Simultaneously, the outer surface of the blastoderm has
been differentiating from the inner surface : there has
arisen a division into the serous and mucous layers — a
division at the outset indistinct, and traceable jonly
about the germinal area, but which- insensibly spreads
throughout nearly the whole germinal membrane, and
becomes definite. From the mucous layer, the develop-
ment of the alimentary canal proceeds as that of the
vertebral canal docs from the serous layer. Originally a
simple channel along the under surface of the embryonic
mass, the intestine is rendered distinct by the bending
down, on each side, of ridges which finally join to form a
tube — ^the permanent absorbing surface is by degrees cut off
from that temporary absorbing surface with which it was

THE LAW OP EVOLUTION CONTINUED. 3G9

continuous and uniform. And in an analogous manner
the entire embryo, whicli at first lies outspread on the
yelk-sack, gradually rises up from it, and by the infold-
ing of its ventral region, becomes a separate mass, con-
nected with the yelk-sack only by a narrow duct.

These changes through which the general structure is
marked out with slowly-increasing precision, are paralleled
in the evolution of each organ. The heart begins as a
mere aggregation of cells, of which the inner liquefy to
form blood, while the outer are transformed into the
walls ; and when thus sketched out, the heart is indefinite
.not only as being unlined by limiting membrane, but also
as being little more than a dilatation of the central blood-
vessel. By and by the receiving portion of the cavity
becomes distinct from the propelling portion. Afterwards
there begins to grow across the ventricle, a septum, which
is, however, some time before it shuts off the two halves
from each other ; while the later-formed septum of the
auricle remains incomplete during the whole of foetal
life. Again, the liver commences by multipli-

cation of certain cells in the wall of the intestine. The
thickening produced by this Inultiplication "increases so
as to form a projection upon the exterior of the canal;"
and at the same time that the organ grows and becomes
distinct from the intestine, the channels running through
it are transformed into ducts having clearly-marked walls.
Similarly, certain cells of the external coat of the alimentary
canal at its upper portion, accumulate into lumps or buds
from which the lungs are developed; and these, in their
general outlines and detailed structure, acquire distinctness
step by step.

Changes of this order continue long after birth; and,
in the human being, are some of them not completed
till middle life. Daring youth, most of the articular
surfaces of the bones remain rough and fissured — the cal-
careous deposit ending irregularly in the surrounding carti-'

370 THE LAW OP EVOLUTION CONTINUED.

lage. But between puberty and tbe age of tliirty, these
articular surfaces are finisbed off into smootb_, hard^ sbarply-
cut ^' epiphyses /' Generally, indeed,, we may say that in-
crease of definiteness continues when there has ceased
to be any appreciable increase of heterogeneity. And
there is reason to think that those modifications which
take place after maturity, bringing about old age and
death, are modifications of this nature; since they cause
rigidity of structure, a consequent restriction of move-
ment and of functional pliability, a gradual narrowing of
the limits within which the vital processes go on, ending
in an organic adjustment too precise — too narrow in its
margin of possible variation to permit the requisite adapta-
tion to changes of external conditions.

§ 133. To prove that the Earth's Flora and Fauna,
regarded either as wholes or in their separate species, have
progressed in definiteness, 4s no more possible than it was
to prove that they have progressed in heterogeneity : lack
of facts being an obstacle to the one conclusion as to the other.
If, however, we allow ourselves to reason from the hypothesis,
now daily rendered more probable, that every species up to
the most complex, has arisen out of the simplest through
. the accumulation of modifications upon modifications, just
as every individual arises; we shall see that there must
have been a progress from the indeterminate to the deter-
minate, both in the particular forms and in the groups of
forms.
^ We may set out with the significant fact that the lowest
organisms (which are analogous in structure to the germs
of all higher ones) have so little definiteness of character
that it is difiicult, if not impossible, to decide whether they
are plants or animals. Kespecting sundry of them there are
unsettled disputes between zoologists and botanists ; and it
is proposed to group them into a separate kingdom, forming
a common basis to the animal and vegetal kingdoms. Note

THE LAW OP EVOLUTION CONTINUED. 371

next tliat amoug the Protozoa, extreme indefiniteness of slia]io
is general. In sundry shell-less Ehizopods the form is so
irregular as to admit of no description; and it is neither
alike in any two individuals nor in the same individual at
Buccessive moments. By aggregation of such creatures, are
produced, among other indefinite bodies, the Sponges —
bodies that are indefinite in size, in contour, in internal
arrangement. As further showing how relatively indeter-
minate are the simplest organisms, it may be mentioned
that their structures vary greatly with surrounding con-
ditions : so much so that, among the Protozoa and Pro-
topJiijta, many forms which were once classed as distinct
species, and even as distinct genera, are found to be merely
varieties of one species. If now we call to mind

how precise in their attributes are the highest organisms-
how sharply cut their outlines, how invariable their pro-
portions, and how comparatively constant their structures
under changed conditions; we cannot deny that greater
definiteness is one of their characteristics. We must admit
that if they have been evolved out of lower organisms, an
increase of definiteness has been an accompaniment of their
evolution.

That, in course of time, species have become more sharply
marked off from other species, genera from genera, and
orders from orders, is a conclusion not admitting of a more
positive establishment than the foregoing; and must,
indeed, stand or fall with it. If, however, species and
genera and orders have arisen by '^ natural selection,^-' then,
as Mr. Darwin shows, there must have been a tendency to
divergence, causing the contrasts between groups to
become greater. Disappearance of intermediate forms,
less fitted for special spheres of existence than the ex-
treme forms they connected, must have made the
differences between the extreme forms decided; and so,
from indistinct and unstable varieties, must slowly have
been produced distract and stable species — an inference

372 THE LAW OF EVOLUTION CONTINUED.

whicli is in harmony witli what we know respecting races
of men and races of domestic animals.

§ 134. Tlie successive phases through which societies
pass, very obviously display the progress from indeter-
minate arrangement to determinate arrangement. A wan-
dering tribe of savages, being fixed neither in its locality
nor in its internal distribution, is far less definite in the
relative positions of its parts than a nation. In such a tribe
the social relations are similarly confused and unsettled.
Political authority is neither well established nor precise.
Distinctions of rank are neither clearly marked nor im-
passable. And save in the difierent occupations of men and
women, there are no complete industrial divisions. Only
in tribes of considerable size, which have enslaved other
tribes, is the economical difierentiation decided.

Any one of these primitive societies, however, that evolves,
becomes step by step more specific. Increasing in size,
consequently ceasing to be so nomadic, and restricted in
its range by neighbouring societies, it acquires, after pro-
longed border warfare, a settled territorial boundary. Tho
distinction between the royal race and the people, eventually
amounts in the popular apprehension to a difierence of
nature. The warrior-class attains a perfect separation from
classes devoted to the cultivation of the soil, or other
occupations regarded as servile. And there arises a
priesthood that is defined in its rank,- its functions, its
privileges. This sharpness of definition, growing

both greater and more variously exemplified as societies
advance to maturity, is extremest in those that have
reached their full development or are declining. Of
ancient Egypt we read that its social divisions were precise
and its customs rigid. Eecent investigations make it more
than ever clear, that among the Assyrians and surrounding
peoples, not only were the laws unalterable, but even the
minor habits, down to those of domestic routine, possessed

THB LAW OP EVOLUTION CONTINUED. 373

a »acTedness wliicli insured their permanence. In India at
the present day, the unchangeable distinctions of caste,
not less than the constancy in modes of dress, industrial
processes, and religious observances, show us how fixed are
the arrangements where the antiquity is great. Nor does
China, with its long-settled pohtical organization, its elabo-
rate and precise conventions, and its unprogressive lite-
rature, fail to exemplify the same truth.

The successive phases of our own and adjacent societies,
furnish facts somewhat different in kind but similar in mean-
ing. Originally, monarchical authority was more baronial,
and baronial authority more monarchical, than afterwards.
Between modem priests and the priests of old times, who
while officially teachers of religion were also warriors,
judges, architects, there is a marked difference in defi-
niteness of function. And among the people engaged in
productive occupations, the hke contrasts would be found
to hold: the industrial class has become more distinct
from the military; and its various divisions from one
another. A history of our constitution, reminding

us how the powers of K4ng, Lords, and Commons, have
been gradually settled, would clearly exhibit analogous
changes. Countless facts bearing the hke construction,
would meet us were we to trace the development of legis-
lation; in the successive stages of which, wo should find
statutes gradually rendered more specific in their appli-
cations to particular cases. Even now we see that each
new law, beginning as a vague proposition, is, in the course
of enactment, elaborated into specific clauses ; and further
that only after its interpretation has been established by
judges^ decisions in courts of justice, does it reach its final
definiteness. ' ' From the annals of minor institu-

tions Hke evidence may be gathered. Keligious, charitable,
literary, and all other societies, starting with ends and
methods roughly sketched out and easily modifiable, show us
how, by the accumulation of rules and precedents, the pur-

374 THE LAW OP EVOLUTION CONTINUED.

poses become more distinct and tlie modes of action more
restricted; until at last decay follows a fixity whicli admits
of no adaptation to new conditions. Should it be objected
that among civilized nations there are examples of de-
creasing definitenesSj (instance the breaking down of limits
between ranks^) the reply is^ that such apparent exceptions
are the accompaniments of a social metamorphosis — a
change from the military or predatory type of social
fitructure^ to the industrial Or mercantile type^ during which
the old lines of organization are disappearing and the new
ones becoming more marked.

§ 135. All organized results of social action — all super-
organic structures^ pass through parallel phases. Being, as
they are, objective products of subjective processes, they
must display corresponding changes ; and that they do this,
the cases of Language, of Science, of Art, clearly prove.

Strike out from our sentences everything but nouns and
verbs, and there stands displayed the vagueness charac-
terizing undeveloped tongues. When we note how each
inflection of a verb, or addition by which the case of a noun'
is marked, serves to limit the conditions of action or of ex-
istence, we see that these constituents of speech enable men
to communicate their thoughts more precisely. That the
application of an adjective to a noun or an adverb to a verb,
narrows the class of things or changes indicated, implies
that the additional word serves to make the proposition
more distinct. And similarly with other parts of speech.

The like effect results from the multiplication of words of
each order. When the names for objects, and acts, and
qualities, are but few, the range of each is proportionately
wide, and its meaning therefore unspccific. The similes and
metaphors so much used by aboriginal races, indirectly
and imperfectly suggest ideas, which they cannot express
directly and perfectly from lack of words. Or to take a
case from ordinary life, if we compare the speech of tho

THE LAW OP EVOLUTION CONTINUED. 375

peasant, who, out of Ids limited vocabulary, can describe
the coutents of the bottle lie carries, only as " doctor's-
stufif wliicli lie has got for his '^ sick " wife, with the
speech of the physician, who tells those educated liko
himself the particular composition of the medicine, and the
particular disorder for which he has prescribed it ; we have
vividly brought home to us, the precision which language
gains by the multiplication of terms.

Again, in the course of its evolution, each tongue acquires
a further accuracy through processes which fix the meaning
of each word. Intellectual intercourse slowly diminishes
laxity of expression. By and by dictionaries give deJBni-
tions. And eventually, among the most cultivated, inde-
finiteness is not tolerated, either in the terms used or in their
grammatical combinations.

Once more, languages considered as wholes, become
gradually more sharply marked off from one another, and
from their common parent : as witness in early times the
divergence from the same root of two languages so unlike
as Greek and Latin, and in later times the development of
thi'ee Latin dialects into Italian, French, and Spanish.

§ 136. In his " History of the Inductive Sciences,'"* Dr.
Whewell says that the Greeks failed in physical philosophy
because their " ideas were not distinct, and appropriate to
the facts." I do not quote this remark for its luminous-
ness ; since it would be equally proper to ascribe the
indistinctness and inappropriateness of their ideas to the
imperfection of their physical philosophy ; but I quote it
because it serves as good evidence of the indefiniteness of
primitive science. The same work and its fellow on " The
Philosophy of the Inductive Sciences,'' supply other evi-
dences equally good, because equally independent of any
euch hypothesis as is here to be estabhshed. Kespecting
mathematics, we have the fact that geometrical theorems
grew out of empirical methods ; and that these theorems, at

376 THE LAW OF EVOLUTION CONTINUED.

first isolated, did not acquire the clearness wliicli complete
demonstration gives, until they were arranged by Euclid
into a series of dependent propositions. At a later period,
th.0 same general truth was exemplified in the progress
from the '^ method of exhaustions " and the " method of
, indivisibles " to the ^' method of limits ; " which is the
central idea of the infinitesimal calculus. In early

mechanics, too, may be traced a dim perception that action
and re-action are equal and opposite ; though, for ages after,
this truth remained unformulated. And similarly, the
property of inertia, though not distinctly comprehended
until Kepler lived, was vaguely recognized long previously.
" The conception of statical force,^' ^' was never presented
in a distinct form till the works of Archimedes appeared; '^
and " the conception of accelerating force was confused, in
the mind of Kepler and his contemporaries, and did not
become clear enough for purposes of sound scientific reason-
ing before the succeeding century.^' To which specific asser-
tions may be added the general remark, that " terms which
originally, and before the laws of motion were fully known,
were used in a very vague and fluctuating sense, were
afterwards limited and rendered precise.^' Wlieu

we turn from abstract scientific conceptions to the con-
crete previsions of science, of which astronomy furnishes
numerous examples, a like contrast is visible. The times
at which celestial phenomena will occur, have been predicted
with ever-increasing accuracy. Errors once amounting to
days are now diminished to seconds. The correspondence
between the real and supposed forms of orbits, has been
gradually rendered more precise. Originally thought circular,
then epicyclical, then elliptical, orbits are now ascertained to
be curves which always deviate from perfect ellipses, and
are ever undergoing changes.

But the general advance of Science in definiteness, is best
shown by the contrast between its qualitative stage, and its
quantitative stage. At first the facts ascertained were, that

THE LAW OP EVOLUTION CONTINUED. 0/7

between such, and sucli plienomcna some connexion existed
—that tlie appearances a and h always occurred together op
in succession j but it was known neither what was the
nature of the relation between a and h, nor how much of a
accompanied so much of h. The development of Science
has in part been the reduction of these vague connexions to
distinct ones. Most relations have been classed as me-
chanical, chemical, thermal, electric, magnetic, &c. ; and wo
have learnt to infer the amounts of the antecedents and con-
sequents from each other with exactness. Of
illustrations, some furnished by physics have been given;
and from other sciences plenty may be added. We have
positively ascertained the constituents of numerous com ■
pounds which our ancestors could not analyze, and of a far
greater number which they never even saw ; and the com-
bining equivalents of these elements arc accurately calcu-
lated. Physiology shows advance from qualitative to quan-
titative prevision in the weighing and measuring of organic
products, and of the materials consumed; as well as in
measurement of functions by the spirometer and the sphyg-
mograph. By Pathology it is displayed in the use of tho
statistical method of determining the sources of diseases,
and the eflfects of treatment. In Botany and Zoology, tho
numerical comparisons of Floras and Faunas, leading to
specific conclusions respecting their sources and distribu-
tions, illustrate it. And in Sociology, questionable as are
the conclusions usually drawn from the classified sum-totals
of the census, from Board-of-Trade tables, and from
criminal returns, it must bo admitted that these imply a
progress towards more accurate conceptions of social
phenomena.

That an essential characteristic of advancing Science is
increase in definiteness, appears indeed almost a truism,
when wo remember that Science may be described as
definite knowledge, in contradistinction to that indefiuito
knowledge possessed by tho uncultured. And if, as we

878 THE LAW OP EVOLUTION CONTINUED.

cannot question,, Science has, in the course of agss, been
evolved out of this indefinite knowledge of the uncultured ;
then, the gradual acquirement of that great definiteness
which now distinguishes it, must have been a leading trait
in its evolution.

§ 137. The Arts, industrial and aesthetic, supply illustra-
tions perhaps still more striking. Flint implements of the
kind recently found in certain of the later geologic deposits,
show the extreme want of precision in men's first handi-
works. Though a great advance on these is seen in the
tools and weapons of existing savage tribes, yet an inexact-
ness in forms and fittings distinguishes such tools and
weapons from those of civilized races. In a smaller degree,
the productions of the less-advanced nations are character-
ized by like defects. A Chinese junk, with all its con-
tained furniture and appliances, nowhere presents a line
that is quite straight, a uniform curve, or a true sur-
face. Nor do the utensils and machines of our
ancestors fail to exhibit a similar inferiority to our own.
An antique chair, an old fireplace, a lock of the last century,
or almost any article of household use that has been pre-
served for a few generations, proves by contrast how greatly
the industrial products of our time excel those of the past in
their accuracy. Since planing machines have been invented^
it has become possible to produce absolutely straight lines,
and surfaces so truly level as to be air-tight when appHed to
each other. While in the dividing-engine of Troughton, in
the micrometer of Whitworth, and in microscopes that show
fifty thousand divisions to the inch, we have an exactness
as far exceeding that reached in the works of our great-
grandfathers, as theirs exceeded that of the aboriginal
celt-makers.

In the Fine Arts there has been a parallel progress.
From the rudely-carved and painted idols of savages,
through the early sculptures characterized by limbs with-

THE LAW OP EVOLUTION CONTINUED. 379

out muscular detail, wooden-looking drapery, and faces
devoid of individuality, up to tlie later statues of tlie Greeks
or some of those now produced, the increased accuracy of
representation is conspicuous. Compare the mural paint-
ings of the Egyptians with the paintings of media3val
Europe, or these with modern paintings, and the more
precise rendering of the appearances of objects is mani-
fest. It is the same with fiction and the drama.
In the marvellous tales current among Eastern nations, in
the romantic legends of feudal Europe, as well as in the
mystery-plays and those immediately succeeding them, we
see great want of correspondence to the realities of life ;
alike in the predominance of supernatural events, in the
extremely improbable coincidences, and in the vaguely-,
indicated personages. Along with social advance, there
has been a progressive diminution of unnaturalness — an
approach to truth of representation. And now, novels and
plays are applauded in proportion to the fidelity with which
they exhibit individual characters ; improbabilities, Hke the
impossibilities which preceded them, are disallowed; and
there is even an incipient abandonment of those elaborate
plots which life rarely if ever furnishes.

§ 138. It would be easy to accumulate evidences of other
kinds. The progress from myths and legends, extreme
in their misrepresentations, to a history that has slowly
become, and is still becoming, more accurate; the esta-
blishment of settled systematic methods of doing things,
instead of the indeterminate ways at first pursued — these
might be enlarged upon in further exemplification of the
general law. But the basis of induction is already wide
enough. Proof that all Evolution is from the indefinite to
the definite, we find to be not less abundant than proof
that all Evolution is from the homogeneous to the hete-
rogeneous.

It should, however, be added that this advance in definite-

380 THE LAW OF EVOLUTION CONTINUED.

ness is not a primary but a secondary phenomenon — ^is a
result incidental on other clianges. Tlie transformation of
a whole that was originally diffused and uniform into a con-
centrated combination of multiform parts^ implies progres-
sive separation both of the whole from its environment and
of the parts from one another. "While this is going on there
must be indistinctness. Only as the whole gains density,
does it become sharply marked off from the space or matter
lying outside of it; and only as each separated division
draws into its mass those peripheral portions which are at
first imperfectly disunited from the peripheral portions of
neighbouring divisions^ can it acquire anything like a precise
outline. That is to say, the increasing definiteness is a conco-
mitant of the increasing consolidation, general and local.
While the secondary re-distributions are ever adding to the
heterogeneity, the primary re- distribution, while augmenting
the integration, is incidentally giving distinctness to tliG in-
creasingly-unlike parts as well as to the aggregate of them.
But though this universal trait of Evolution is a necessary
accompaniment of the traits set forth in preceding chapters,
it is not expressed in the words used to describe them. It
is therefore needful further to modify our formula. The
more specific idea of Evolution now reached is — a change
from an indefinite, incoherent homogeneity, to a definite
coherent heterogeneity, accompanying the dissipation of
motion and integration of matter.

CHAPTER XYII.

THE LAW OF EVOLUTION CONCLUDED.

' § 139. TliG conception of Evolution elaborated in the
foregoing chapters, is still incomplete. True thougli it is
it is not tlie wliole truth. The transformations which all
things undergo during the ascending phases of their exist-
ence, we have contemplated under three aspects ; and by
uniting these three aspects as simultaneously presented, wo
have formed an approximate idea of the transformations.
But there are concomitant changes about which nothing has
yet been said ; and which, though less conspicuous, are no
less essential.

For thus far we have attended only to the re-distribution
of Matter, neglecting the accompanying re-distribution of
Motion. Distinct or tacit reference has, indeed, repeatedly
been made to the dissipation of Motion, that goes on along
with the concentration of Matter ; and were all Evolution
absolutely simple, the total fact would be contained in tho
proposition that as Motion dissipates Matter concentrates.
But while wo have recognized the ultimate re-distribu-
tion of the Motion, we have passed over its proximate re-dis-
tribution. Thouo^h somethinof has from time to time been
said about the escaping motion, nothing has been said
about the motion that docs not escape. In proportion as
Evolution becomes compound — in proportion as an aggre-
gate? retains, for a considerable time, such a quantity of

382 THE LAW OF EVOLUTION CONCLUDED.

motion as permits secondary re-distributions of its com-
ponent matter_, there necessarily arise secondary re-distri-
butions of its retained motion. As fast as tlie parts
are transformed, there goes on a transformation of the
sensible or insensible motion possessed by the parts. Tho
parts cannot become progressively integrated, either indivi-
dually or as a combination, without their motions, indivi-
dual or combined, becoming more integrated. There cannot
arise among the parts heterogeneities of size, of form, of
quality, without there also arising heterogeneities in the
amounts and directions of their motions, or the motions of
their molecules. And increasing definiteness of the parts
implies increasing definiteness of their motions. In shorj:,
the rhythmical actions going on in each aggregate, must
difierentiate and integrate at the same time that the struc-
ture does so.

The general theory of this re-distribution of the retained
motion, must here be briefly slated. Properly to supplement
our conception of Evolution under its material aspect by a
conception of Evolution under its dynamical aspect, we have
to recognize the source of the integrated motions that arise,
and to see how their increased multiformity and definiteness
are necessitated. If Evolution is a passage of

matter from a difiused to an aggregated state — if while the
dispersed units are losing part of the insensible motion
which kept them dispersed, there arise among coherent
masses of them, any sensible motions with respect to one
another; then this sensible motion must previously have
existed in the form of insensible motion among the units.
If concrete matter arises by the aggregation of difiused
matter, then concrete motion arises by the aggregation of
difiused motion. That which comes into existence as the
movement of masses, implies the cessation of an equivalent
molecular movement. While we must leave in the shape of
hypothesis the belief that the celestial motions have thus
originated^ we may see, as a matter of fact, that this is the

TUE LAW OP EVOLUTION CONCLUDED. 383

genesis of all sensible motions on the Earth's surface. As
before shown (§69), the denudation of lands and deposit
of new strata, are effected by water in the course of its de-
scent to the sea, or during the arrest of those undulations
produced on it by winds ; and, as before shown, the eleva-
tion of water to the height whence it fell, is due to solar
heat, as is also the genesis of those aerial currents which
drift it about when evaporated and agitate its surface when
condensed. . That is to say, the molecular motion of tho
etherial medium is transformed into the motion of gases,
thence into the motion of liquids, and thence iuto the mo-
tion of solids — stages in each of which a certain amount
of molecular motion is lost and an equivalent motion of
masses gained. It is the same with organic movements.
Certain rays issuing from the Sun, enable the plant to
reduce special elements existing in gaseous combination
around it, to a solid form — enable the plant, that is, to
grow and carry on its functional changes. And since
growth, equally with circulation of sap, is a mode of sen-
sible motion, while those rays which have been expended
in generating it consist of insensible motions, we have
here, too, a transformation of the kind alleged. Animals,
derived as their forces are, directly or indirectly, from
plants, carry this transformation a step further. Tho
automatic movements of the viscera., together with tho
voluntary movements of the limbs and body at large, arise
at the expense .of certain molecular movements through-
out the nervous and muscular tissues ; and these originally
arose at the expense of certain other molecular move-
ments propagated by the Sun to the Earth ; so that both
the structural and functional motions which organic Evo-
lution displays, are motions of aggregates generated by
the arrested motions of units. Even with the aggregates of
these aggregates the same rule holds. For among associated
men, the progress is ever towards a merging of individual
actions in tho actions of corporate bodies. WTiile, then,

384 THE LAW OF EVOLUTION CONCLUDED,

daring Evolution^ tlie escaping motion becomes, by perpe-
tually widening dispersion, more disintegrated, the motion
tliat is for a time retained, becomes more integrated ; and
so, considered dynamically, Evolution is a decrease in tlio
relative movements of parts and an increase in the relative
movements of wholes — ^using the words parts and wholes
in their most general senses. The advance is from the
motions of simple molecules to the motions of compound
molecules; from molecular motions to tbe motions of masses;
and from th.0 motions of smaller masses to the motions of
larger masses. The accompanying change towards

greater multiformity among the retained motions, takss
place under the form of an increased variety of rhythms.
We lijive already seen that all motion is rhythmical, from
the infinitesimal vibrations of infinitesimal molecules, up
to those vast oscillations between perihelion and aphelion
performed by vast celestial bodies. And as th.e contrast
between these extreme cases suggests, a multiplication of
rhythms must accompany a multiplication in the degrees
and modes of aggregation, and in tlie relations of the aggre-
gated masses to incident forces. The degree or mode of
aggregation will not, indeed, affect the rate or extent of
rhythm where the incident force increases as tbe aggregate
increases, which, is the case witb gravitation : here the only
cause of variation in rhythm, is difference of relation to the
incident forces; as we see in a pendulum, which, thougli
unaffected in its movements by a change ^n the weight of
the bob, alters its rate of oscillation when taken to the
equator. But in all cases where the incident forces do not
vary as the masses, every new order of aggregation initiates
a new order of rhythm : witness the conclusion drawn from
the recent researches into radiant beat and light, that the
molecules of different gases have different rates of undulation.
So that increased multiformity in the arrangement of
matter, necessarily generates increased multiformity of
rhythm ; both through increased variety' in the sizes and

THE LAW OP EVOLUTION CONCLUDED. 385

forms of aggregates, and througli increased variety in their
relations to tlie forces wMcli move them. That

these motions as they become more integrated and moro
heterogeneous, must become more definite, is a proposition
that need not detain us. In proportion as any part of an
evolving whole segregates and consolidates, and in so doing
loses the relative mobility of its components, its aggregate
motion must obviously acquire distinctness.

Here, then, to complete our conception of Evolution, wo
have to contemplate throughout the Cosmos, these metamor-
morphoses of retained motion that accompany the metamor-
phoses of component matter. We may do this with compa-
rative brevity : the reader having now become so far familiar
with the mode of looking at the facts, that less illustration
will suffice. To save space, it will be convenient to deal
with the several aspects of the metamorphoses at the
same time.

§ 140. Dispersed matter moving, as we see it in a spiral
nebula, towards the common centre of gravity, from all
points at all distances with all degrees of indirectness, must
carry into the nebulous mass eventually formed, innumerable
momenta contrasted in their amounts and directions. As
the integration progresses, such parts of these momenta as
conflict are mutually neutralized, and dissipated as heat. Th)^
out-standing rotatory motion, at first having unhke angular
velocities at the periphery and at various distances from tho
centre, has its differences of angular velocity gradually re-
duced ; advancing towards a final state, now nearly reached
by the Sun, in which the angular velocity of the whole mass
is the same — in which the motion is integrated. So,

too, with each planet and satellite. Progress from the
motion of a nebulous ring, incoherent and admitting of mucL
relative motion within its mass, to the motion of a dense
Rpheroid, is progress to a motion that is completely inte-
jn^tcd. The rotation, and the translation through space,
18

386 THE LAW OF EVOLUTION CONCLUDED.

severally become one and indivisible. Meanwliile,

tliere goes on tliat further integration by which the motions
of all the parts of the Solar System are rendered mutually
dc^pendcnt. Locally in each planet and its satellites, and
generally in the Sun and the planets, we have a system of
simple and compound rhythms, with periodic and secular
variations, forming together an integrated set of movements.
The matter which^ in its original diffused state, had
motions that were confused, indeterminate, or without
sharply-marked distinctions, has, during the evolution of
the Solar System, acquired definitely heterogeneous motions.
The periods of revolution of all the planets and satellites
are unlike ; as are also their times of rotation. Out of
these definitely heterogeneous motions of a simple kind,
arise others that are complex, but still definite; — as those
produced by the revolutions of satellites compounded with
the revolutions of their primaries ; as those of which pre-
cession is the result; and as those which are known as
perturbations. Each additional complexity of structure has
caused additional complexity of movements ; but still, a de-
finite complexity, as is shown by having calculable results.

§ 141. While the Earth's surface was molten, the currents
in the voluminous atmosphere surrounding it, mainly of
ascending heated gases and of descending precipitated
liquids, must have been local, numerous, indefinite, and but
little distinguished from one another. But as fast as the
surface cooled, and solar radiation began to cause appre-
ciable difierences of temperature between the equatorial
and polar regions, a decided atmospheric circulation from
poles to ejj[uator and from equator to poles, must have slowly
established itself : the vast moving masses of air becoming,
at last, trade-winds and other such permanent definite
currents. These integrated motions, once com-

paratively homogeneous, were rendered heterogeneous as
great islands and continents arose, to complicate them by

THE LAW OP EVOLUTION CONCLUDED, 387

•

])enoclic winds, caused by the varied Keating of wide tracts
of land at different seasons. Rhytliniical motions of a con-
stant and simple kind, were, by increasing multiformity of
tlie Eartli^s surface, differentiated into an involved com-
bination of constant and recurrent rhythmical motions,-
joined with smaller motions that are irregular.

Parallel changes must have taken place in the motions of
water. On a thin crust, admitting of but small elevations
and depressions, and therefore of but small lakes and seas,
none beyond small local circulations were possible. But
along with the formation of continents and oceans, came the
vast movements of water from warm latitudes to cold and
from cold to warm — movements increasing in amount, in
definiteness, and in variety of distribution,^»,s the fea-
tures of the Earth's surface became larger and more con-
trasted. The like holds with drainage waters. The
tricklings of insignificant streams over narrow pieces of land,
were once the only motions of such waters; but as fast as wide
areas came into existence, the motions of many tributaries
became massed into the motions of great rivers; and instead
of motions very much alike, there arose motions consider-
ably varied.

Nor can we well do«bt that the movements in the
Earth's crust itself, have presented an analogous progress.
Small, numerous, local, and very much like one another,
while the crust was thin, the elevations and subsidences
must, as the crust thickened, have extended over larger
areas, must have continued for longer eras in the same .
directions, and must have been made more unlike in diffe-
rent regions by local differences of structure in the crust.

§ 142. In organisms the advance towards a more inte-
grated, heterogeneous, and definite distribution of the re-
tained motion, which accompanies the advance towards a
more integrated, heterogeneous, and definite distribution of
the component matter, is mainly what we understand as the*

888 THE LAW OP EVOLUTION CONCLUDED,

develo|)mcnt of functioriS. All active functions are eitlier
sensible movements, as tliose produced by contractile
organs; or such insensible movements as tliose propagated
througb the nerves; or sucli insensible movements as those
•by which, in secreting organs, molecular re-arrangements
are effected, and new combinations of matter produced.
And what we have here to observe is, that during evolution,
functions, like structures, become more consolidated in-
dividually, as well as more combined with one another, at
the same time that they become more multiform and more
distinct.

The nutritive juices in animals of low types, move hither
and thither through the tissues quite irregularly, as local
strains and pressures determine : in the absence of a dis-
tinguishable blood and a developed vascular system, there
is no definite circulation. But along with the structural
evolution which establishes a finished apparatus for dis-
tributing blood, there goes on the functional evolution
which establishes large and rapid movements of blood,
definite in their courses and definitely distinguished as
efferent and afferent, and that are heterogeneous not simply
in their directions but in their characters — being here di-
vided into gushes and there continuous.

Instance, again, the way in which, accompanying the
structural differentiations and integrations of the aliment-
ary canal, there arise differentiations and integrations
both of its mechanical movements and its actions of a hon-
. mechanical kind. Along an alimentary canal of a primitive
type, there pass, almost uniformly from end to end, waves oi
constriction. But in a well-organized alimentary canal,
the waves of constriction are widely unlike at different
parts, in their kinds, strengths, and rapidities. In the mouth
they become movements of prehension and mastication — '
now occurring in quick succession and now ceasing for
hours. In the oesophagus these contractions, propulsive in
-their office, and travelling with considerable speed, take

THE LAW OP EVOLUTION CONCLUDED. 3SD

place at intervals during eating, and then do not tako
place till tlie next meal. In the stomach another modi-
fication of this originally uniform action occurs ; the
muscular, constrictions are powerful, and continue during
the long periods that the stomach contains food. Through-
out the upper intestines, again, a further difference shows
itself — the waves travel along without cessation but are
relatively moderate. Finally, in the rectum this rhythm
departs in another way from the common type : qui-
escence lasting for many hours, is followed by a . series
of strong contractions. Meanwhile, the essential actions
which these movements aid, have been growing more
definitely heterogeneous. Secretion and absorption are
no longer carried on in much the same way from end to
end of the tube; but the general function divides into
various subordinate functions. The solvents and ferments
furnished by the coats of the canal and the appended glands,
become widely unlike at upper, middle, and lower parts of
the canal ; implying different kinds of molecular changes.
Here the process is mainly secretory, there it is mainly
absorbent, while in other places, as in the oesophagus,
neither secretion nor absorption takes place to any ap-
preciable extent. While these and other internal
motions, sensible and insensible, are being rendered more
various, and severally more consolidated and distinct, there
is advancing the inte^ation by which they are united into
local groups of motions and a combined system of motions.
While the function of alimentation sub-divides, its sub-
divisions become co-ordinated, so that muscular and secretory
actions go on in concert, and so that excitement of one part
of the canal sets up excitement of the rest. Moreover, the
whole alimentary function, while it supplies matter for the
circulatory and respiratory functions, becomes so integrated
with them that it cannot for a moment go on without them.
And, as evolution advances, all three of these fundamental
functions fall into greater subordination to the nervous

390 THE LAW OF EVOLUTION CONCLUDED.

functions — depend more and more on tlie due amount of
nervous discliarge.

When we trace up tlie functions of external organs the
same trutli discloses itself. Microscopic creatures are moved
tlirough the water by oscillations of the cilia covering their
surfaces ; and various larger forms, as the Turhellaria, pro-
gress by ciliary action over solid surfaces. These motions
of cilia are, in the first place, severally very minute ; in tho
second place they are homogeneous ; and in the third place
there is but little definiteness' in them individually, or in
their joint product, which is mostly a mere random change
of place not directed to any selected point. Contrasting
this ciliary action with the action of developed locomotive
organs of whatever kind, we see that instead of innumerable
small or unintegrated movements there are a few compara-
tively large or integrated movements ; that actions all alike
are replaced by actions partially unlike ; and that instead of
being very feebly or almost accidentally co-ordinated, their
co-ordination is such as to render the motions of the body
as a whole, precise. A parallel contrast, less ex-

treme but sufficiently decided, is seen when we pass from
the lower types of creatures with limbs to the higher types
of creatures with limbs. The legs of a Centipede have
motions that are numerous, small, and homogeneous ; and
are so little integrated that when the creature is divided
and sub-divided, the legs belonging to each part propel
that part independently. But in one of the higher Annu-
losa, as a Crab, the relatively few limbs have motions
that are comparatively largo in their amounts,' that are
considerably unlike one another, and that are integrated
into compound motions of tolerable definiteness.

§ 143. The last illustrations are introductory to illustra-
tions of the kind we class as psychical. They are the physio-
logical aspects of the simpler among those functions which,
under a more special and complex aspect, we distinguish aa

THE LAW OP EVOLUTION CONCLUDED. 391

psychological. Tlio phenomena subjectively known a?
changes in consciousness^ are objectively known as nervous
excitations and discharges^ which science now interprets into
modes of motion. Henco, in following up organic evolution^
the advance of retained motion in integration, in hetero-
geneity, and in definiteness, may be expected to show itself
alike in the visible nervo-muscular actions and in tho cor-
relative mental changes. "VYo may conveniently look at the
facts as exhibited during individual evolution, before looking
at them as exhibited in general evolution.

Tho progress of a child in speech, very completely ex-
hibits the transformation. Infantine noises are comparatively
homogeneous; alike as being severally long-drawn and
nearly uniform from end to end, and as being constantly
repeated with but little variation of quality between narrow
limits. They are quite un-coordinated — there is no integra-
tion of them into compound sounds. They are inarticulate,
or without those definite beginnings and endings character-
izing the sounds we call words. Progress shows itself first
in the multiplication of the inarticulate sounds : tho extreme
vowels are added to the medium vowels, and the compound
to tho simple. Presently the movements which form the
simpler consonants are achieved, and some of tho sounds
become sharply cut ; but this definiteness is partial, for only
initial consonants being used, the sounds end vaguely.
Whilo an approach to distinctness thus results, there also
results, by combination of difierent consonants with tho
same vowels, an increase of heterogeneity ; and along with
tho complete distinctness which terminal consonants givo,
arises a further great addition to the number of unlike
sounds produced. Tho more difficult consonants and tho
compound consonants, imperfectly articulated dt first, are
by and by articulated with "nrec^'^j^^nr^^nd there comes yet
another multitude of :^ further! *° *^® " words — words
tbut imply many kinds oi vuc«i movuments, severally per-
iormed with exactness, as well as perfectly integrated into

892 THE LAW OF EVOLUTION COITCLUDED.

complex groups. Tlie subsequent advance to dissyllables
and polysyllables, and to involved combinations of words^,
sbows tbe still bigber degree of integration and beterogeneity
eventually reacbed by tbese organic motions. Tbe

acts of consciousness correlated witb tbese nerve-mus-
cular acts, of course go tbrougb parallel pbases; and tbe
advance from cbildbood to maturity yields daily proof tbat
tbe cbanges wbicb, on tbeir pbysrcal side are nervous pro-
cesses, and on tbeir mental side are processes of tbougbt,
become more various, more defined, more coberent. At
first tbe intellectual functions are very mucb abke in kind —
recognitions and classifications of simple impressions alone
go on; but in course of time tbese functions become multi-
form. Reasoning grows distinguisbable, and eventually wo
bave conscious induction and deduction; debberate recollec-
tion and deliberate imagination are added to simple un-
guided association of ideas ; more special modes of mental
action, as tbose wbicb result in matbematics, music, poetry,
arise; and witbin eacb of tbese divisions tbe mental pro-
cesses are ever being furtber difierentiated. In definiteness
it is tbe same. Tbe infant makes its observations so inac-
curately tbat it fails to distinguisb individuals. Tbe cbild
errs continually in its spelling, its grammar, its aritbmetic.
Tbe youtb forms incorrect judgments on tbe afiairs of life.
Only witb maturity comes tbat precise co-ordination in tbe
nervous processes tbat is implied by a good adjustment of
tbougbts to tbings. Lastly, witb tbe integration by wbicb
simple mental acts are combined into complex mental acts,
it is so likewise. In tbe nursery you cannot obtain con-
tinuous attention — tbere is inability to form a coberent
series of impressions ; and tbere is a parallel inability to
unite many co-existent impressions, even of tbe same order : ,
witness tbe way in wbicb a cbild's remarks on a picture,
sbow tbat it attends only! -j^-^dividual objects repre-

sented, and never to tbe picibure as a wbole. But with
advancintj years it becomes possible to understand an in-

THE LAW OE EVOLUTION CONCLUDED. 393

Tolved sentence, to follow long trains of reasoning, to liold
ill one mental grasp nnmeiwus concnrrent circumstances.
The like progressive integration takes place among the
mental changes we distingnish as feelings ; which, in a child
act singly, produ,cing impulsiveness, but in an adult act
more in concert, producing a comparatively balanced conduct.
After these illustrations supplied by individual evolution,
we may deal briefly with those supplied by general evolu-
tion, which are analogous to them. A creature of very low
intelligence, when aware of some large object in motion
near it, makes a spasmodic movement, causing, it may
be, a leap or a dart. The perceptions implied are re-
latively simple, homogeneous, and indefinite : the moving
objects are not distinguished in their kinds as injurious or
otherwise, as advancing or receding. The actiohs of escape
are similarly all of one kind, have no adjustments of direc-
tion, and may bring the creature nearer the source of perd
instead of further off. A stage higher, when the dart or the
leap is away from danger, we see the nervous changes so
far specialized that there results distinction of direction;
indicating a greater variety among them, a greater co-ordi-
nation or integration of them in each process, and a greater
definiteness. In still higher animals that discriminate be-
tween enemies and not-enemies, as a bird that flies from a
man but not from a cow, the acts of perception have
severally become united into more complex wholes, since
cognition of certain differential attributes is implied ; they
havo become more multiform, since each additional, com-
ponent impression adds to the number of possible com-
pounds ; and they have, by consequence, become more spe-
cific in their correspondences with objects — more definite.
And then in animals so intelligent that they identify by
eight not species only but individuals of a species, the
mental changes are yet further distinguished in the same
three ways. In the course of human evolution the

law is equally manifested. The thoughts of the savage are

394 THE LAW OP EVOLUTION CONCLUDEr.

notlimg like so heterogeneous in tlieir kinds as those of the
civilized man^ whose complex environment presents a multi-
plicity of new phenomena. His mental acts, too, are much
less involved — he has no words for abstract ideas, and is
found to be incapable of integrating the, elements of such
ideas. And in all hut simple matters there is none of that
precision in his thinking which, among civilized men, leads
to the exact conclusions of science. Nor do the emotions
fail to exhibit a parallel contrast.

§ 144. How in societies the movements or functions pro- ■
duced by the confluence of individual actions, increase in
their amounts, their multiformities, their precision, and
their combination, scarcely needs insisting upon after what
has been pointed out in foregoing chapters. For the sake
of symmetry of statement, however, a typical example or
two may be set down.

Take the actions devoted to defence or aggression. At
first the military function, undifferentiated from the rest (all
men in primitive societies being warriors) is relatively
homogeneous, is ill-combined, and is indefinite: savages
making a joint attack severally fight independently, in
similar ways, and without order. But as societies evolve
and the miUtary function becomes separate, we see that
while its scale increases, it progresses in multiformity,
in definiteness, and in combination. The movements
of the thousands of soldiers that replace the tens of
warriors, are divided and re-divided in their kinds — ^hero
are bodies that manoeuvre and fire artillery; there are
battalions that fight on foot ; and elsewhere are troops that
charge on horseback. Within each of these differentiated
functions there come others : there are distinct duties dis-
charged by privates, sergeants, captains, colonels, generals,
as also by those who constitute the commissariat and those
who- attend to the wounded. The actions that have thus
become comparatively heterogeneous in general and in de-

THE LAW OP EVOLUTION CONCLUDED. 395

tail, have simultaneously increased in prscision. Accuracy
of evolutions is given by perpetual drill ; so that in battle,
men and tliG regiments formed of them, arc made to take
definite positions and perform definite acts at definite times.
Once more, there has gone on that integration by which tho
multiform actions of an army are directed to a single end.
By a co-ordinating apparatus having the commander-in-
chief for its centre, tho charges, and halts, and retreats are
duly concerted ; and a hundred thousand individual actions
are united under one will.

Tho progress hero so clearly marked, is a progress trftce-
ablo throughout social functions at large. Comparing tho
rule of a savage chief with that of a civilized government,
aided by its subordinate local governments and their officers,
down to the police in tho streets, wo. see how, as men have
advanced from tribes of tens to nations of millions, the re-
gulative process has grown large in amount ; how, guided
by written laws, it has passed from vagueness and irregu-
larity to comparative precision ; and how it has sub-divided
into processes increasingly multiform. Or observing how
the barter that goes on among barbarians, differs from our
own commercial processes, by which a million's worth of com-
modities is distributed daily ; by which the relative values
of articles immensely varied in kinds and qualities are
measured, and the supplies adjusted to tho demands ; and
by which industrial activities of all orders are so combined
that each depends on the rest and aids the rest ; we see that
the kind o£ action which constitutes trade, has become pro-
gressively more vast, more varied, more definite^ and moro
integrated,

§ 145. A finished conception of Evolution we thus find
to bo one which includes the re-distribution of the retained
motion, as well as that of the component matter. This
added element of the conception is scarcely, if at all, less
important than the other. The movements of the Solar

396 THE LAW OF EVOLUTION CONCLUDED.

System have for us a significance equal to tliat wliicli tlie
sizes, forms, and relative distances of its members possess.
And of tlie phenomena presented by an organism, it
must be admitted that the combined sensible and in-
sensible actions we call its life, do not yield in interest to
its structural traits. Leaving out, however, all implied
reference to the way in which these two orders of facts con-
cern us, it is clear that with each re-distribution of matter
there necessarily goes a re-distribution of motion ; and that
the unified knowledge constituting Philosophy, must com-
prelfend both aspects of the transformation.

While, then, we have to contemplate the matter of an
evolving aggregate as undergoing, not progressive iutegra-
tion simply, but as simultaneously undergoing various
secondary re-distributions ; we have also to contemplate the
motion of an evolving aggregate, not only as being gradually
dissipated, but as passing through many secondary re-distri-
butions on the way towards dissipation. As the structural
complexities that arise during compound evolution, are in-
cidental to the progress from the extreme of difi'usion to the
extreme of concentration; so the functional complexities
accompanying them, are incidental to the progress from the
greatest quantity of contained motion to the least quantity
of contained motion. And we have to state these con-
comitants of both transformations, as well as their begin-
nings and ends.

Our formula, therefore, needs an additional clause. To
combine this satisfactorily with the clauses as they stand in
the last chapter, is scarcely practicable; and for convenience
of expression it will be best to change their order. Doing
this, and making the requisite addition, the formula finally
stands thus : — Evolution is an integration of matter and con-
comitant dissipation of motion; during which the matter
passes from an indefinite^ incoherent homogeneity to a de-
finite, coherent heterogeneity ; and during which the retained
motion undergoes a parallel transformation.

CHAPTER XVIIT.

THE INTERPRETATION OF EVOLUTION.

§ 146. Is this law ultimate or derivative ? Must we rc;^t
satisfied with the couclusion that throughout all classes of
concrete phenomena such is the course of transformation ?
Or is it possible for us to ascertain why such is the course
of transformation? May wo seek for some all-pervading
principle which underlies this all-pervading process ? Can
the inductions set forth in the preceding four chapters bo
reduced to deductions?

Manifestly this community of result implies community of
cause. It may bo that of such cause no account can bo
given, further than that the Unknowable is manifested to us
after this mode. Or, it may bo that this mode of mani-
festation is reducible to a simpler mode, from which these
many complex effects follow. Analogy suggests the latter
inference. Just as it was possible to interpret the empirical
generalizations called Kepler^s laws, as necessary conse-
quences of the law of gravitation ; so it may be possible to
interpret the foregoing empirical generalizations as neces-
sary consequences of some deeper law.

Unless we succeed in finding a rationale of this universal
metamorphosis, we obviously fall short of that completely
unified knowlcdgo, constituting Philosophy. As they at
present stand, the several conclusions we have lately reached
appear to be independent — ^there is no demonstrated con-

398 THE INTERPRETATION OP EVOLUTION.

nexion between increasing definiteness and increasing hete-
rogeneity^ or between both and increasing integration. Still
less evidence is there tliat these laws of the re-distribution
of matter and motion, are necessarily correlated with those
laws of the direction of motion and the rhythm of motion,
previously set forth. But until we see these now separate
truths to be implications of ono trilth, our knowledge re-
mains imperfectly coherent.

§ 147. The task before us, then, is that of exhibiting the
phenomena of Evolution in synthetic order. Setting out
from an established ultimate principle, it has to bo shown
that the course of transformation among all kinds of

, existences, cannot but be that which we have seen it to be.
It has to be shown that 'the re-distribution of matter and

» motion, must everywhere take place in those ways, and pro-
duce those traits, which celestial bodies, organisms, societies,
alike display. And it has to bo shown that this universality
of process, results from the same necessity which determines
each simplest movement around us, down to the accelerated
fall of a stone or the recurrent beat of a .harp-string.

In other words, the phenomena of Evolution have to be
deduced from the Persistence of Force. As before said —
" to this an ultimate analysis brings us down ; and on this

' a rational synthesis must build up." This being the
ultimate truth which transcends experience by underlying
it, so furnishing a common basis on which the widest gene-
ralizations stand, these widest generalizations are to be
unified by referring them to this common basis. Already
the truths manifested throughout concrete phenomena of all
orders, that there is equivalence among transformed forces,
that motion follows the line of least resistance, and that it is
universally rhythmic, we have found to be severally deduciblo
from the persistence of force j and this affiliation of them on
the persistence of force has reduced them to a coherent
whole. Here we have similarly to affiliate the universal

THE IXTERPEETATION OP EVOLUTION. 399

h-aits of Evolution, by showing that, given the persistence
of force, the re-distribution of matter and motion neces-
sarily proceeds in such way as to produce them ; and by
doing this we shall unite them as co-relative aspects of one •
law, at the same time that we unite this law with the fore-
going simpler laws.

§ 148. Before proceeding it will be well to set down some
principles that must be borne in mind. In interpreting
Evolution we shall have to consider, under their special forms,
the various resolutions of force that accompany the re-distri-
bution of matter and motion. Let us glance at such resolu-
tions under their most general forms.

Any incident force is primarily divisible into its effective
and non-effective portions. In mechanical impact, the entire
momentum of a striking body is never communicated to the
body struck : even under those most favourable conditions
in which the striking body loses all its sensible motion,
there still remains with it some of the original momentum,
under the shape of that insensible motion produced among
its particles by the collision. Of the light or heat falUng on
any mass, a part, more or less considerable, is reflected; and
only tho remaining part works molecular changes in the
mass. Next it is to be noted that the effective

force is itself divisible into the temjporarily effective and the
'permanently effective. The units of an aggregate acted on,
may undergo those rhythmical changes of relative position
which constitute increased vibration, as well as other
changes of relative position which are not from instant to
instant neutralized by opposite ones. Of these, the first,
disappearing in the shape of radiating undulations, leave the
molecular arrangement as it originally was ; while the se-
cond conduce to that re-arrangement characterizing com-
pound Evolution. Yet a further distinction has
to be made. The permanently effective force works out
changes of relative position of two kindg — the insensible

400 THE > INTEEPEETATION OF EVOLUTION.

and tlie senslhle. The insensible transpositions among tLo
units are those constituting molecular changes, including
what we call chemical composition and decomposition ; and
it is these which we recognize as the qualitative differences
that arise in an aggregate. The sensible transpositions are

, such as result when certain of the units, instead of being
put into different relations with their immediate neighbours,
are carried away from them and deposited elsewhere.

Concerning these divisions and sub-divisions of any forco
affecting an aggregate, the fact which it chiefly concerns us
to observe is, that they are complementary to each other.
Of the whole incident force, the effective must be that which
remains after deducting the non-effective. The two parts of
the effective force must vary inversely as each other : where
much of it is temporarily effective, little of it can be perma-
nently effective ; and vice versa. Lastly, the permanently
effective force, being expended in working both the insen-

• sible re-arrangements which constitute molecular modifica-
tion, and the sensible re-arrangements which result in
structure, must generate of either kind an amount that is
great or small in proportion as it has generated a small or
great amount of the other.

CEAPTER XIX.

THE INSTABILITY OF THE HOMOGENEOUS.*

§ 149. The difficulty of dealing with transformations so
many-sided as those whicli all existences have undergone, or
are undergoing, is such as to make a definite or complete
deductive interpretation seem almost hopeless. So to grasp
the total process of re-distribution of matter and motion, as
to see simultaneously its several necessary results in their
actual inter-dependence, is scarcely possible. There is, how-
ever, a mode of rendering the process as a whole tolerably
comprehensible. Though the genesis of^the re-arrangement
undergone by every evolving aggregate, is in itself one, it
presents to our intelligence several factors; and after in-
terpreting the effects of each separately, we may, by synthesis
of the interpretations, form an adequate conception.

On setting out, the proposition which comes first in logical
order, is, that some re-arrangement must result; and this
proposition may be best dealt with under the more specific
shape, that the condition of homogeneity is a condition of
unstable equilibrium.

First, as to the meaning of the terms ; respecting which
some readers may need explanation. The phrase unstable
equilibrium is one used in mechanics to express a balance of
forces of such kind, that the interference of any further force,
however minute, will destroy the arrangement previously

* The idea developed in this chapter originally formed part of an article oa
Transcendental Physiology," publisUod in 1857. See Essays, pp. 27&— 290

402 THE INSTABILITY OF THE HOMOGENEOUS.

Bubsisting ; and bring about a totally different arrangement.
Thus, a stick poised on its lower end is in unstable equili-
brium : however exactly it may be placed in a perpendicular
position, as soon as it is left to itself it begins, at first imper-
ceptibly, to lean on one side, and with increasing rapidity
falls into another attitude. Conversely, a stick suspended
from its upper end is *in stable equilibrium : however much
disturbed, it will return to the same position. The proposi-
tion is, then, that the state of homogeneity, like the state of
the stick poised on its lower end, is one that cannot be main-
tained. Let us take a few illustrations.

Of mechanical ones the most familiar is that of the scales.
If they be accurately made, and not clogged by dirt or rust,
it is impossible to keep a pair of scales perfectly balanced :
eventually one scale will descend and the other ascend— they
will assume a heterogeneous relation. Again, if we sprinkle
over the surface of a fluid a number of equal-sized particles,
having an attraction for each other, they will, no matter how
uniformly distributed, by and by concentrate irregularly into
one or more groups^. Were it possible to bring a mass of
water into a state of perfect homogeneity — a state of complete
quiescence, and exactly equal density throughout — yet the
radiation of heat from neighbouring bodies, by affecting
differently its different parts, would inevitably produce in-
equalities of density and consequent currents ; and would so
render it to that extent heterogeneous. Take a piece of red-
hot matter, and however evenly heated it may at first be, it
will quickly cease to be so : the exterior, cooling faster than
the interior, will become different in temperature from it.
And the lapse into heterogeneity of temperature, so obvious
in this extreme case, takes place more or less in all
cases. The action of chemical forces supplies other

illustrations. Expose a fragment of metal to air or water,
and in course of time it will be coated with a film of oxide,
carbonate, or other compound : that is — its outer parts will
become unlike its inner parts. Usually the heterogeneity

THE INSTABILITY OF THE HOMOGENEOUS. 40;j

produced by the action of chemical forces on the surfaces of
masses, is not striking ; because the changed portions are
soon washed away, or otherwise removed. But if this is pre-
vented, comparatively complex structures result. Quarries
of trap-rock contain some striking examples. Not un-
frequently a piece of trap may be found reduced, by the
action of the weather, to a number of loosely- adherent coats,
like those of an onion. ^Yhere the block has been quite un-
disturbed, we may trace the whole series of these, from the
angular, irregular outer one, through successively included
ones in which the shape becomes gradually rounded, ending
finally in a spherical nucleus. On comparing the original
mass of stone with this group of concentric coats, each of
which diflfers from the rest in form, and probably in the state
of decomposition at which it has arrived, we get a marked
illustration of the multiformity to which, in lapse of time,
a uniform body may be brought by external chemical
action. • The instability of the homogeneous is equally

seen in the changes set up throughout the interior of a mass,
when it consists of units that are not rigidly bound together.
The atoms of a precipitate never remain separate, and equably
distributed through the fluid in which they make their ap-
pearance. They aggregate either into crj^stalline grains,
each containing an immense number of atoms, or they aggre-
gate into flocculi, each containing a yet larger number ; and
where the mass of fluid is great, and the process prolonged,
these flocculi do not continue equi- distant, but break up into
groups. That is to say, there is a destruction of the balance
at first subsisting among the difiused particles, and also of
the balance at first subsisting among the groups into which
these particles imite. Certain solutions of non

crystalline substances in highly volatile liquids, exhibit in
the course of half an hour- a whole series of changes that are
set up in the alleged way. If for example a little shell-lac-
varnish (made by dissolving shell-lac in coal-naptha until it
is of the consistence of cream) be poured on a piece of paper,

404 THE INSTABILITY OF THE HOMOGENEOUS.

the surface of tlie varnisli will shortly become marked by
polygonal divisions, wbicb, first appearing round the edge of
the mass, spread towards its centre. Under a lense tbese
irregular polygons of five or more sides, are seen to be sever-
ally bounded by dark lines, on eacb side of wHcli there arc
light-coloured borders. By the addition of matter to their
inner edges, the borders slowly broaden, and thus encroach
on the areas of the polygons; until at length there re-
mains nothing but a dark spot in the centre of each. At
the same time the boundaries of the polygons become curved ;
and they end by appearing like spherical sacs pressed toge-
ther ; strangely simulating (but only simulating) a group of
nucleated cells. Here a rapid loss of homogeneity is ex-
hibited in three ways : — First, in the formation of the film,
which is the seat of these changes ; second, in the formation
of the polygonal sections into which this film divides ; and
third, in the contrast that arises between the polygonal sec-
tions round the edge, where they are small and early formed,
and those in the centre which are larger and formed later.

* The instability thus variously illustrated is obviously con-
sequent on the fact, that the several parts of any homoge-
neous aggregation are necessarily exposed to different forces
— forces that differ either in kind or amount ; and being ex-
posed to different forces they are of necessity differently
modified. The relations of outside and inside, and of com-
parative nearness to neighbouring sources of influence, imply
the reception of influences that are unlike in quantity or
quality, or both ; and it follows that unlike changes will be
produced in the parts thus dissimilarly acted upon.

For like reasons it is manifest that the process must re-
peat itself in each of the subordinate groups of units that are
differentiated by the modifying forces. Each of these sub-
ordinate groups, like the original group, must gradually, in
obedience to the influences acting upon it, lose its balance ot
parts — must pass from a uniform into a multiform state.
And so on continuously. Whence indeed it is cleai

THE INSTABILITY OF THE H()M()GENEOi;S. 405

that not only^ must the homogeneous lapse into the non-
homogeneous, but that the more homogeneous must tend
ever to become less homogeneous. If any given whole, in-
stead of being absolutely uniform throughout, consist of parts
distinguishable from each other — if each of these parts, while
somewhat unlike other parts, is uniform within itself; then,
each of them being in unstable equilibrium, it follows that
while the changes set up within it must render it multiform,
they must at the same time render the whole more multi-
form than before. The general principle, now to be follow-
ed out in its applications, is thus somewhat more compre-
hensive than the title of the chapter implies. No demurrer to
the conclusions drawn, can be based on the ground that perfect
homogeneity nowhere exists ; since, whether that state with
which we commence be or be not one of perfect homogeneity,
the process must equally be towards a relative heterogeneity.

§ 150. The stars are distributed with a three-fold irre-
gularity. There is first the marked contrast between the
plane of the milky way and other parts of the heavens, in
respect of the quantities of stars within given visual areas.
There are secondary contrasts of like kind in the milky way
itself, which has its thick and thin places ; as well as
throughout the celestial spaces in general, which are much
more closely strown in some regions than in others. And
there is a third order of contrasts produced by the aggrega-
tion of stars into small clusters. Besides this heterogeneity
of distribution of the stars in general, considered without
distinction of kinds, a further such heterogeneity is disclosed
when they are classified by their differences of colour, which
doubtless answer to differences of physical constitution
AVhile the yellow stars are found in all parts of t}ie heavens,
the red and blue stars are not so : there are wide regions in
which both red and blue stars are rare ; there are regions in
which the blue occur in considerable numbers, and there
ore other regions in which the red are comparatively abund-

406 THE INSTABILITY OF THE HOMOGENEOUS.

ant. Yet one more irregularity of like significance is pre-
sented by the nebulae, — aggregations of matter which, what-
ever be their nature, most certainly belong to our sidereal
system. For the nebulae are not dispersed with anything
like uniformity ; but are abundant around the poles of the
galactic circle and rare in the neighbourhood of its
plane. • 1^ one wiU expect that anything like a de-

finite interpretation of this structure can be given on the
hypothesis of Evolution, or any other hypothesis. The most
that can be looked for is some reason for thinking that irre-
gularities, not improbably of these kinds, would occur in the
course of Evolution, supposing it to have taken place. Any
one called on to assign such reason might argue, that if the
matter of which stars and all other celestial bodies consist, be
assumed to have originally existed in a diffused form through-
out a space far more vast even than that which our sidereal
system now occupies, the instability of the homogeneous
would negative its continuance in that state. In default of
an absolute balance among Vhe forces with which the dis-
persed particles acted on each other (which could not exist in
any aggregation having limits) he might show that motion
and consequent changes of distribution would necessarily
result.- The next step in the aigument would be that in
matter of such extreme tenuity and feeble cohesion there
would be motion towards local centres of gravity, as well as
towards the general centre of gravity ; just as, to use a
humble illustration, the particles of a precipitate aggregate
into flocculi at the same time that they sink towards the
earth. He might urge that in the one case as in the other,
these smallest and earliest local aggregations must gradually
divide into groups, each concentrating to its own centre of
gravity, — a process which must repeat itself on a larger and
larger scale. In conformity with the law that motion once
set up in any direction becomes itself a cause of subsequent
motion in that direction, he might further infer that the
heterogeneities thus set up woidd tend ever to become more

THE INSTABILITY OF THE HOMOGENEOUS. 407

•

pronounced. Establisbed mechanical principles would
justify, him in the conclusion that the motions of these irre-
gular masses of slightly aggregated nebular matter towards
their common centre of gravity must be severally rendered
curvelinear, by the resistance of the medium from which they
were precipitated ; and that in consequence of the irregu-
laiities of distribution already set up, such conflicting curve-
linear motions must, by composition of forces, end in a rotation
of the incipient sidereal system. He might without difficulty
show that the resulting centrifugal force must so far modify the
process of general aggregation, as to prevent anything like
uniform distribution of the stars eventually formed — that
there must arise a contrast such as we see between the galac-
tic circle and the rest of the heavens. lie might draw the
further not unwarrantable inference, that differences in the
process of local concentration would probably result from the
unlikeness between the physical conditions existing around
the general axis of rotation and those existing elsewhere.
To which lie might add, that p,fter the formation of distinct
stars, the ever-increasing irregularities of distribution due to
continuance of the same causes would produce that patchi-
ness which distinguishes the heavens in both its larger and
smaller areas. "We need not here however commit

ourselves to such far-reaching speculations. For the purposes
of the general argument it is needful only to show, that
any finite mass of diffused matter, even though vast enough
to form our whole sidereal system, could not be in stable
equilibrium ; that in default of absolute sphericity, absolute
uniformity of composition, and absolute symmetry of relation
to all forces external to it, its concentration must go on with
an ever-increasing irregularity ; and that thus the present
aspect of the heavens is not, so far as we can judge, incon-
gruous with the hypothesis of a general evolution consequent
on the instability of the homogeneous.

Descending to that more limited form of the nebular hy-
pothesis which regards the solar system as having resulted

408 THE INSTABILITY OF THE HOMOGENEOUS.

by gradual conceiitration ; and assuming this concentration
to have advanced so far as to produce a rotating spheroid of
nebulous matter; let us consider what further consequence
the instability of the nomogeneous necessitates. Having
become oblate in figure, unlike in the densities of its centre
and surface, unlike in their temperatures, and unlike in the
velocities with which its parts move round their common axis,
such a mass can no longer be called homogeneous ; and
therefore any further changes exhibited by it as a whole, can
illustrate the general law, only as being changes from a
more homogeneous to a less homogeneous state. Changes of
this kind are to be found in the transformations of such of its
parts as are still homogeneous within themselves. If we
accept the conclusion of Laplace, that the equatorialportion
of this rotating and contracting spheroid ^vill at successive
stages acquire a centrifugal force great enough to prevent
any nearer approach to the centre round which it rotates,
and will so be left behind by the inner parts of the spheroid
in its still- continued contraction ; we shall find, in the fate of
the detached ring, a fresh exemplification of the principle we
are following out. Consisting of gaseous matter, such a
ring, even if absolutely uniform at the time of its detach-
ment, cannot continue so. To maintain its equilibrium there
must be an almost perfect uniformity in the action of all
external forces upon it (almost, we must say, because the
cohesion, even of extremely attenuated matter, might suffice
to neutralize very minute disturbances) ; and against this the
probabilities are immense. In the absence of equality among
the forces, internal and external, acting on such a ring,
there must be a point or points at which the cohesion of
its parts is less than elsewhere — a point or points at which
rupture will therefore take place. Laplace assumed that
the ring would rupture at one place only ; and would then
collapse on itself. But this is a more than questionable
assumption — such at least I know to be the opinion of an
authority second to none among those now living. So

THE INSTABILITY OF THE HOMOGENEOUS. 4j)<)

viist a ring, consisting of matter having such feeble cohe-
sion, must break up into many parts. Nevertheless, it is
still inferable from the instability of the homogeneous,
that the ultimate result which Laplace predicted would
take place. For even supposing the masses of nebuloua
matter into which such a ring separated, were so equal in
their sizes and distances as to attract each other with
exactly equal forces (which is infinitely improbable): yet
the unequal action, of external disturbing forces would
inevitably destroy their equilibrium — there would be one or
more points at which adjacent masses would begin to part
company. Separation once commenced, would with ever-
accelerating speed lead to a grouping of the masses. And
obviously a like result would eventually take place with the
groups thus formed ; until they at length aggregated into a
single mass.

Leaving the region of speculative astronomy, let us con-
sider the Solar System as it at present exists. And here it
will be well, in the first place, to note a fact which may be
thought at variance with the foregoing argument — namely,
the still-continued existence of Saturn's rings ; and especially
of the internal nebulous ring lately discovered. To the
objection that the outer rings maintain their equilibrium, the
reply is that the comparatively great cohesion of liquid
or solid substance would suffice to prevent any slight tend-
ency to rupture from taking effect. And that a nebulous
ring here still preserves its continuity, does not really negative
the foregoing conclusion; since it happens under the quite
exceptional influence of those symmetrically disposed forces
which the external rings exercise on it. Here indeed

it deserves to be noted, that though at first sight the Satur-
nian system appears at variance with the doctrine that a
state of homogeneity is one of unstable equilibrium, it doe.-
in reality furnish a (furious confirmation of this doctrine. For
Saturn is not quite concentric with his rings ; and it has
been proved mathematically that were he and his rings con-
19 •

410 THE INSTABILITY OF THE HOMOGENEOUS.

centrically situated, they] could not remain so : the homo-
geneous relation being unstable, would gravitate into a
heterogeneous one. And this fact serves to remind us of the
allied one presented throughout the whole Solar System. All
orbits, whether of planets or satellites, are more or less ex-
centric — none of them are perfect circles; and were thej
perfect circles they would soon become ellipses. Mutual per-
turbations would inevitabty generate excentricities. That is
to say, the homogeneous relations would lapse into hetero-
geneous ones.

§ 151. Already so many references have been made to the
gradual formation of a crust over the originally incandescent
Earth, that it may be thought superfluous again to name it.
It has not, however, been before considered in connexion with
the general principle under discussion. Here then it must
be noted as a necessary consequence of the instability of the
homogeneous. In this cooling down and solidification of
the Earth's surface, we have one of the simplest, as well as
one of the most important, instances, of that change from
a uniform to a multiform state which occurs in any mass
through exposure of its difierent parts to difierent condi-
tions. To the differentiation of the Earth's exterior
from its interior thus brought about, we must add one of the
most conspicuous differentiations which the exterior itself
afterwards undergoes, as being similarly brought about. "Were
the conditions to which the surface of the Earth is exposed,
alike in all directions, there would be no obvious reason why
certain of it^ parts should become permanently^ unlike the rest.
But being unequally exposed to the chief external centre of
force — the Sun — its main divisions become unequally modified:
as the crust thickens and cools, there arises that contrast,
now so decided, between the polar and equatorial regions.

Along with these most marked physical differentiations of
the Earth, which are manifestly consequent on the instability
of the homogeneous, there have been going on numeroiw

THE INSTABILITY OF THE HOMOGENEOUS. 411

chemical differentiations, admitting of similar interpreta-
tion. Without raising the question whether, as some think,
the so-called simple substances are themselves compounded of
unknown elements (elements which we cannot separate by
artificial heat, but which existed separately when the heat of
the Earth was greater than any which we can produce), —
without raising this question, it will suffice the present pur-
pose to show how, in place of that comparative homogeneity
of the Earth's crust, chemically considered, which must have
existed when its temperature was high, there has arisen,
during its cooling, an increasing chemical heterogeneity:
each element or compound, being unable to maintain its
homogeneity in presence of various surrounding affinities,
having fallen into heterogeneous combinations. Let us con-
template this change somewhat in detail. There is
every reason to believe that at an extreme heat, the bodies
we call elements cannot combine. Even under such heat as
can be generated artificially, some very strong affinities yield ;
and the great majority of chemical compounds are decom-
posed at much lower temperatures. Whence it seems not
improbable that, when the Earth was in its first state of in-
candescence, there were no chemical combinations at alL
But without drawing this inference, let us set out with the
unquestionable fact that the compounds which can exist at
the highest temperatures, and which must therefore have
been the first formed as the Earth cooled, are those of the
simplest constitutions. The protoxides — including under
that head the alkalies, earths, &c. — are, as a class, the most
fixed compounds known : the majority of them resisting de-
composition by any heat we can generate. These, consisting
severally of one atom of each component element, are com-
binations of the simplest order — are but one degree less
homogeneous than the elements themselves. More hetero-
geneous than these, more decomposable by heat, and therefore
later in the Earth's history, are the deutoxides, tritoxides,
peroxides, &c. ; in which two, three, four, or more atoms of

412 THE INSTABILITY OF THE HOMOGENEOUS,

oxygen are united with one atom of metal or other base.
Still less able to resist beat, are tbe salts ; wbicb present us
with compound atoms each made up of five, six, seven, eight,
ten, twelve, or more atoms, of three, if not more, kinds.
Then there are the hydrated salts, of a yet greater hetero-
geneity, which undergo partial decomposition at much lower
temperatures. After them come the further-complicated
supersalts and double salts, having a stability again decreased ;
and so throughout. After making a few unimportant quali-
fications demanded by peculiar affinities, I believe no chemist
will deny it to be a general law of these inorganic combina-
tions that, other things equal, the stability decreases as the
complexity increases. And then when we pass to the com-
pounds that make up organic bodies, we find this general law
still further exemplified : we find much greater complexity
and much less stability. An atom of albumen, for instance,
consists of 482 ultimate atoms of five different kinds. Fibrine,
still more intricate in constitution, contains in each atom, 298
atoms of carbon, 49 of nitrogen, 2 of sulphur, 228 of hydrogen,
and 92 of oxygen — in all, 660 atoms ; or, more strictly
speaking — equivalents. And these two substances are so un-
stable as to decompose at quite moderate temperatures ; as
that to which the outside of a joint of roast meat is
exposed. Possibly it will be objected that some inorganic
compounds, as phosphuretted hydrogen and chloride of nitro-
gen, are more decomposable than most organic compounds.
This is true. But the admission may be made without damage
to the argument. The proposition is not that all simple com-
binations are more fixed than all complex ones. To establish
our inference it is necessary only to show that, as an average
factj the simple combinations can exist at a higher tempera-
ture than the complex ones. And this is wholly beyond
question. Thus it is manifest that the present chemi-

cal heterogeneity of the Earth's surface has arisen by degrees
as the decrease of heat has permitted ; and that it has shown
itself in three forms — first, in the multiplication of chcmica]

THE INSTABILITY OF THE HOMOGENEOUS. 4Kj

compounds ; second, in the greater number of different ele-
ments contained in tlie more modern of these compounds ; and
third, in the higher and more varied multiples in which these
more numerous elements combine.

WithouT, specifying them, it will suffice just to name the
meteorologic processes eventually set up in the Earth's at-
mosphere, as further illustrating the alleged law. They
equally display that destruction of a homogeneous state which
results from unequal exposure to incident forces.

§ 152. Take a mass of unorganized but organizable mat-
ter— either the body of one of the lowest Kving forms, or the
geim of one of the higher. Consider its circumstances.
Either it is immersed in water or air, or it is contained with-
in a parent organism. Wherever placed, however, its outer
and inner parts stand differently related to surrounding
agencies — nutriment, oxygen, and the various stimuli. But
this is not all. Whether it lies quiescent at the bottom of
the water or on the leaf of a plant ; whether it moves through
the water preserving some definite attitude ; or whether it is
in the inside of an adult ; it equally results that certain parts
of its surface are more exposed to surrounding agencies than
other parts — in some cases more exposed to light, heat, or
oxygen, and in others to the maternal tissues and their con-
tents. Hence must follow the destruction of its original
equilibrium. This may take place in one of two ways. Either
the disturbing forces may be such as to overbalance the
affinities of the organic elements, in which case there result
those changes which are known as decomposition ; or, as is
ordinarily the case, such changes are induced as do not de-
stroy the organic compounds, but only modify them : the
parts most exposed to the modifying forces being most modi-
fied. To elucidate this, suppose we take a few cases.

Note first what appear to be exceptions. Certain minute
animal forms present us either with no appreciable differen-
tiations or with differentiations so obscure as to be made out

414 THE INSTABILITY OF THE HOMOGENEOUS.

with great diiEculty. In the Ehizopods, the substance of the
jelly-like body remains throughout life unorganized, even to
the extent of haying no limiting membrane ; as is proved by
the fact that the thread-like processes protruded by the mass
coalesce on touching each other. Whether or not the nearh
allied Amceha^ of which the less numerous and more bulky
processes do not coalesce, has, as lately alleged, something
like a cell- wall and a nucleus, it is clear that the distinction
of parts is very slight ; since particles of food pass bodily into
the inside through any part of the periphery, and since when
the creature is crushed to pieces, each piece behaves as the
whole did. Now these cases, in which there is either no contrast
of structure between exterior and interior or very little, though
seemingly opposed to the above inference, are really very
significant evidences of its truth. For what is the peculiarity
of this division of the Protozoa ? Its members undergo per-
petual and irregular changes of form— they show no per-
sistent relation of parts. What lately formed a portion of
the interior is now protruded, and, as a temporary limb, is
attached to some object it happens to touch. What is now a
part of the surface will presently be drawn, along with the
atom of nutriment sticking to it, into the centre of the mass.
Either the relations of inner and outer have no permanent
existence, or they are very slightly marked. But by the
hypothesis, it is only because of their unlike positions with
respect to modifying forces, that the originally like units of a
living mass become unlike. We must therefore expect no
established differentiation of parts in creatures which exhibit
no established differences of position in their parts ; and we
must expect extremely little differentiation of parts where the
differences of position are but little determined — whicli is
just what we find. This negative evidence is borne

out by positive evidence. When we turn from these pro-
teiform specks of living jeUy to organisms having an un •
changing distribution of substance, we find differences of tis-
sue corresponding to differences of relative position. la all

THE INSTABILITY OF THE HOMOGENEOUS. 41 o

the higher Protozoa^ as also in the Protophytay we meet with
a fimdamental differentiation into cell-membrane and cell-
contents ; answering to that fundamental contrast of con-
ditions implied by the terms outside and inside. On
passing from what are roughly classed as unicellular organ-
isms, to the lowest of those which consist of aggregated cells,
we equally observe the connection between structural differ-
ences and differences of circumstance. Negatively, we see
that in the sponge, permeated throughout by currents of sea-
water, the indefiniteness of organization corresponds with the
absence of definite unlikeness of conditions : the peripheral
and central portions are as little contrasted in structure as in
exposure to surrounding agencies. While positively, we see
that in a form like the Thalassicolla, which, though equally
humble, maintains its outer and inner parts in permanently
unlike circumstances, there is displayed a rude structure
obviously subordinated to the primary relations of centre and
surface : in all its many and important varieties, the parts
exhibit a more or less concentric arrangement.

After this primary modification, by which tlie outer tissues
are differentiated from the inner, the next in order of con-
stancy and importance is that by which some part of the
outer tissues is differentiated from the rest ; and this corre-
sponds with the almost universal fact that some part of the
outer tissues is more exposed to certain environing influences
than the rest. Here, as before, the apparent exceptions are
extremely significant. Some of the lowest vegetal organisms,
as the Hematococci and Protococci, evenly imbedded in a
mass of mucus, or dispersed through the Arctic snow, display
no differentiations of surface ; the several parts of their sur •
faces being subjected to no definite contrasts of conditions*.
Ciliated spheres such as the Volvox have no parts of the?i
periphery unlike other parts ; and it is not to be expected
that they should have ; since, as they revolve in all directiongi,
they do not, in traversing the water, permanently expose anj*
part to special conditions. But when we come to organisms

ilQ THE INSTABILITY OF THE HOMOGENEOUS.

that are either fixed, or while moTing preserve definite atti-
tudes, we no longer find •uniformity of surface. The most
general fact which can be asserted with respect to the struc-
tures of plants and animals, is, that howeycr much alike in
shape and texture the various parts of the exterior may at
first be, they acquire unlikenesses corresponding to the un-
likenesses of their relations to surrounding agencies. The cili-
ated germ of a Zoophyte, which, during its locomotive stage,
is distinguishable only into outer and inner tissues, no sooner
becomes fixed, than its upper end begins to assume a different
structure from its lower. The disc-shaped gemmcB of the
Marchantia, originally alike on both surfaces, and falling at
random with either side uppermost, immediately begin to
develop rootlets on the under side, and stornata on the upper
side : a fact proving beyond question, that this primary differ-
entiation is determined by this fundamental contrast of con-
ditions.

Of course in the germs of higher organisms, the metamor-
phoses immediately due to the instability of the homogeneous,
are soon masked by those due to the assumption of the hered-
itary type. Such early changes, however, as are common to
all classes of organisms, and so cannot be ascribed to heredity,
entirely conform to the hypothesis. A germ which has un-
dergone no developmental modifications, consists of a spher-
oidal group of homogeneous cells. Universally, the first step
in its evolution is the establishment of a difference between
some of the peripheral cells and the cells which form the in-
terior— some of the peripheral cells, after repeated sponta-
neous fissions, coalesce into a membrane ; and by continuance
of the process this membrane spreads until it speedily invests
the entire mass, as in mammals, or, as in birds, stops short of
that for some time. Here we have two significant facts.
The first is, that the primary unlikcness arises between the
exterior and the interior. The second is, that the change
which thus initiates development, does not take place simul-
taneously over the whole exterior ; but commences at one

THE INSTABILITY OF TIIE HOMOGENEOUS. 417

place, and gradually involves the rest. J^ow these facts
are just those which might be inferred from the instability of
the homogeneous. The surface must, more than any other
part, become unlike the centre, because it is most dissimi-
larly conditioned ; and all parts of the surface cannot
simultaneously exhibit this differentiation, because they can-
not be exposed to the incident forces with absolute imifonn-
ity. One other general fact of like implication re-

mains. Whatever be the extent of this peripheral layer of
cells, or blastoderm as it is called, it presently divides into
two layers — the serous and mucous ; or, as they have been
otherwise called, the ectoderm and the endoderm. The first
of these is formed from that portion of the layer which lies
in contact with surrounding agents ; and the second of them
is formed from that portion of the layer which lies in contact
with the contained mass of yelk. That is to say, after the
primary differentiation, more or less extensive, of surface
from centre, the resulting superficial portion undergoes a
secondary differentiation into inner and outer parts — a
differentiation which is clearly of the same order with the
preceding, and answers to the next most marked contrast of
conditions.

But, as already hinted, this principle, imderstood in the
simple form here presented, supplies no key to the detailed
phenomena of organic development. It fails entirely to ex-
plain generic and specific pecuKarities ; and indeed leaves us
equally in the dark respecting those more important dis-
tinctions by which families and orders are marked out,
"Why two ova, similarly exposed in the same pool, should
become the one a fish, and the other a reptile, it cannot tell
us. That from two different eggs placed under the same
hen, should respectively come forth a duckling and a chicken,
is a fact not to be accounted for on the hypothesis above
developed. We have here no alternative but to fall back
upon the unexplained principle of hereditary transmission.
The capacity possessed by an unorganized germ of unfolding

418 THE INSTABILITY OF THE HOMOGENEOUS

into a complex adult, whicli repeats ancestral traits in the
minutest details, and that even when it has been placed in
conditions unlike those of its ancestors, is a capacity we cannot
at present understand. That a microscopic portion of seem-
ingly structureless matter should embody an influence of such
Idnd, that the resulting man will in fifty years after become
gouty or insane, is a truth which would be incredible were it
not daily illustrated. Should it however turn out, as

we shall hereafter find reason for suspecting, that these complex
difierentiations which adults exhibit, are themselves the
slowly accumulated and transmitted results of a process like
that seen in the first changes of the germ ; it will follow that
even those embryonic changes due to hereditary influence,
are remote consequences of the alleged law. Should it bo
shown that the slight modifications wrought during life on
each adult, and bequeathed to ofispring along with all like
preceding modifications, are themselves unlikenesses of parts
that are produced by unlikenesses of conditions ; then it will
follow that the modifications displayed in the course of em-
bryonic development, are partly direct consequences of the
instability of the homogeneous, and partly indirect conse-
quences of it. • To give reasons for entertaining this
hypothesis, however, is not needful for the justification of the
position here taken. It is enough that the most conspicuous
difierentiations which incipient organisms universally display,
correspond to the most marked difierences of conditions to
which their parts are subject. It is enough that the habitual
contrast between outside and inside, which we know is pro-
duced in inorganic masses by unlikeness of exposure to inci-
dent forces, is strictly paralleled by the first contrast that
makes its appearance in all organic masses.

It remains to point out that in the assemblage of organisms
constituting a species, the principle enunciated is equally
traceable. We have abundant materials for the induction
that each species will not remain uniform, but is ever becom-
ing to some extent multiform ; and there is ground for the

THE INSTABILITY OF THE HOMOGENEOUS. 4|0

deduction that this lapse from homogeneity to heterogeneity is
caused by the subjection of its members to unlike sets of
circumstances. The fact that in every species, animal and
vegetal, the individuals are never quite alike ; joined with
the fact that there is in every species a tendency to the pro-
duction of differences marked enough to constitute varieties ;
form a sufficiently wide basis for the induction. While the
deduction is confirmed by the familiar experience that varieties
are most numerous and decided where, as among cultivated
plants and domestic animals, the conditions of life depart
from the original ones, most widely and in the most numerous
ways. AYhether we regard ''natural selection" as wholly,
or only in part, the agency through which tarieties are
established, matters not to the general conclusion. For as
the survival of any variety proves its constitution to be in
harmony with a certain aggregate of surrounding forces — as
the multiplication of a variety and the usurpation by it of an
area previously occupied by some other part of the species,
implies different effects produced by such aggregate of forces
on the two, it is clear that this aggregate of forces is the
real cause of the differentiation — it is clear that if the variety
supplants the original species in some localities but not in
others, it does so because the aggregate of forces in the one
locality is unlike that in the other — it is clear that the lapse
of the species from a state of homogeneity to a state of hetero-
geneity arises from the exposure of its different parts to
different aggregates of forces.

§ 153. Among mental phenomena it is difficult to estabhsh
the alleged law without an analysis too extensive for the
occasion. To show satisfactorily how states of consciousness,
originally homogeneous, become heterogeneous through dif-
ferences in the changes wrought by different forces, would
require us carefully to trace out the organization of early
experiences. Were this done it would become manifest that
the development of intelligence, is, under one of its chief

420 THE INSTABILITY OF THE HOMOGENEOUS.

aspects, a dividing into separate classes, the unlike things
previously confounded together in one class — a formation of
sub-classes and sub- sub- classes, until the once confused ag-
gregate of objects known, is resolved into an aggregate which
unites extreme heterogeneity among its multiplied groups,
with complete homogeneity among the members of each
group. If, for example, we followed, through ascending grades
of creatures, the genesis of that vast structure of knowledge
acquired by sight, we should find that in the first stage,
where eyes suffice for nothiag beyond the discrimination of
light from darkness, the only possible classifications of objects
seen, must be those based on the manner in which light is
obstructed, and the degree in which it is obstructed. We
should find that by such undeveloped visual organs, the
shadows traversing the rudimentary retina would be merely
distinguished into those of the stationary objects which
the creature passed during its own movements, and those
of the moving objects which came near the creature while
it was at rest; and that so the extremely general clas-
sification of visible things into stationary and moving, would
be the earliest formed. We should find that whereas the
simplest ej^es are not fitted to distinguish between an obstruc-
tion of light caused by a small object close to, and an obstruc-
tion caused by a large object at some distance, eyes a little
more developed must be competent to such a distinction ;
whence must result a vague dijSerentiation of the class of
moving objects, into the nearer and the more remote. We
should find that such further improvements in vision as those
which make possible a better estimation of distances by
adjustment of the optic axes, and those which, through en-
largement and subdivision of the retina, make possible the dis-
crimination 01 shapes, must have the effects of giving greater
definiteness to the classes already formed, and of sub-dividing
these into smaller classes, consisting of objects less unlike. And
we should find that each additional refinement of the percep-
tive organs, must similarly lead to a multiplication of divisions

THE INSTABILITY OF TlIE HOMOGENEOUS. 421

aivd a sharpening of the limits of each division. In every infant
mijrht be traced the analofrous transformation of a confused
aggregate of impressions of surrounding objects, not recognized
as differing in their distances, sizes, and shapes, into separate
classes of objects unlike each other in these and various other
respects. And in the one case as in the other, it might bo
shown that the change from this first indefinite, incoherent
and comparatively homogeneous consciousness, to a definite,
coherent, and heterogeneous one, is due to differences in the
actions of incident forces on the organism. These

brief indications of what might be shown, did space permit,
must here suffice. Probably they will give adequate clue to
an argument by which each reader may satisfy himself that
the course of mental evolution offers no exception to the
general law. In further aid of such an argument, I will here
add an illustration that is comprehensible apart from the
process of mental evolution as a whole.

It has been remarked (I am told by Coleridge, though I
have been unable to find the passage) that with the advance
of language, w^ords which were originally alike in their
meanings acquire unlike meanings — a change which ho
expresses by the formidable word " desj^nonymization.'^
Among indigenous words this loss of equivalence cannot
be clearly shown ; because in them the divergencies of
meaning began before the dawn of literature. But among
words that have been coined, or adopted from other
languages, since the writing of books commenced, it is
demonstrable. In the old divines, miscreant is used in
its etymological sense of unbeliever ; but in modern speech it
has entirely lost this sense. Similarly with evil-doer and
male/actor: exactly synonymous as these are by derivation,
they are no longer synonymous by usage : by a malefactor
we now understand a convicted criminal, which is far from
being the acceptation of evil-doer. The verb produce, bears in
Euclid its primary meaning — to prolo?i(/, or draw out ; but
the now largely developed meanings oi produce have little in

422 THE INSTABILITY OF THE HOMOGENEOUS.

common with the meanings of prolong, or draw out. In the
Church of England liturgy, an odd effect results from the
occurrence of 2^^(^'^Gnt in its original sense — to come before,
instead of its modern specialized sense — to come before with the
effect of arresting. But the most conclusive cases are those
in which the contrasted words consist of the same parts differ-
ently combined ; as in ^o under and undergo. "We go under
a tree, and we undergo a pain. But though, if analytically
considered, the meanings of these expressions would be the
same were the words transposed, habit has so far modified
their meanings that we could not without absurdity speak of
undergoing a tree and going under a pain. Countless

such instances might be brought to show that between two
words which are originally of like force, an equilibrium can
not be maintained. Unless they are daily used in exactly
equal degrees, in exactly similar relations (against which
there are infinite probabilities), there necessarily arises a habit
of associating one rather than the other with particular acts,
or objects. Such a habit, once commenced, becomes confirm-
ed; and gradually their homogeneity of meaning disappears.
In each individual we may see the tendency which inevitably
leads to this result. A certain vocabulary and a certain set
of phrases, distinguish the speech of each person : each per-
son habitually uses certain words in places where other words
are habitually used by other persons ; and there is a con-
tinual recurrence of favourite expressions. This inability to
maintain a balance in the use of verbal sjonbols, which cha-
racterizes every man, characterizes, by consequence, aggre-
gates of men ; and the desynonymization of words is the ulti-
mate efiect.

Should any difficulty be felt in understanding how these
mental changes exemplify a law of physical transformations
that are wrought by physical forces, it will disappear on con-
templating acts of mind as nervous functions. It will be
seen that each loss of equilibrium above instanced, is a loss of
functional equality between some two elements of the nervous

THE INSTABILITY OF THE HOMOGENEOUS. 423

dvstcm. And it will be seen that, as in other cases, this loss
of functional equality is due to differences in the incidence of
forces.

§ 154. Masses of men, in common with aU other masses,
show a like proclivity similarly caused. Small combinations
and large societies equally manifest it ; and in the one, as in
the other, both governmental and industrial differentiations
are initiated by it. Let us glance at the facts under these
two heads.

A business partnership, balanced as the authorities of its
members may theoretically be, practically becomes a union in
which the authority of one partner is tacitly recognized as
greater than that of the other or others. Though the share-
holders have given equal powers to the directors of their
company, inequalities of power soon arise among them ; and
usually the supremacy of some one director grows so marked,
that his decisions determine the course which the board takes.
Nor in associations for political, charitable, literary, or other
purposes, do we fail to find a like process of division into
dominant and subordinate parties ; each having its leader, its
members of less influence, and its mass of uninfluential mem-
bers. These minor instances in which unorganized groups of
men, standing in homogeneous relations, may be watched
gradually passing into organized groups of men standing in
heterogeneous relations, give us the key to social inequalities.
Barbarous and civilized communities are alilce characterized
by separation into classes, as well as by separation of each
class into more important and less important units ; and this
structure is manifestly the gradually-consolidated result of a
process like that daily exemplified in trading and other com-
binations. So long as men are constituted to act on one an-
other, either by physical force or by force of character, the
struggles for supremacy must finally be decided in favour ot
some one ; and the difference once commenced must tend to
Deoome ever more marked. Its unstable equilibrium being do-

424 THE INSTABILITY OF THE HOMOGENEOUS.

Btro}ed, the uniform must gravitate with increasing rapidity
into the multiform. And so supremacy and subordination
must establish themselves, as we see they do, throughout the
whole structure of a society, from the great class- divisions
pervading its entire body, down to village cliques, and even
down to every posse of school-boys. Probably it will

be objected that such changes result, not from the homoge-
neity of the original aggregations, but from their non-homo-
geneity— from certain slight differences existing among their
units at the outset. This is doubtless the proximate cause.
In strictness, such changes must be regarded as transforma-
tions of the relatively homogeneous into the relatively hetero-
geneous. But it is abundantly clear that an aggregation of
men, absolutely alike in their endowments, would eventually
undergo a similar transformation. For in the absence of
perfect uniformity in the lives severally led by them — in
their occupations, physical conditions, domestic relations, and
trains of thought and feeling — there must arise differences
among them ; and these must finally initiate social differen-
tiations. Even inequalities of health caused by accidents,
must, by entailing inequalities of *physical and mental power,
disturb the exact balance of mutual influences among the
units; and the balance once disturbed, must inevitably be
lost. Whence, indeed, besides seeing that a body of men
absolutely homogeneous in their governmental relations, must,
like all other homogeneous bodies, become heterogeneous,
we also see that it must do this from the same ultimate cause
—unequal exposure of its parts to incident forces.

The first industrial divisions of societies are much more
.obviously due to unlikenesses of external circumstances.
Such divisions are absent until such unlikenesses are estab-
lished. Nomadic tribes do not permanently expose any
groups of their members to special local conditions ; nor does
ft stationary tribe, when occujiying only a small area, main-
tain from generation to generation marked contrasts in the
local conditions of its members ; and in such tribes there are

THE INSTABILITY OF THE HOMOGENEOUS. 425

no decided economical differentiations. ' But a community
wliicli, growing populous, has overspread a large tract, and
has hecome so far settled that its members live and die in their
respective districts, keeps its several sections in different
physical circumstances ; and then they no longer remain alike
in their occupations. Those who live dispersed contimie to
hunt or cultivate the earth ; those who spread to the sea-shore
fall into maritime occupations ; while the inhabitants of some
spot chosen, perhaps for its centrality, as one of periodical
assemblage, become traders, and a town springs up. Each
of these classes undergoes a modification of character conse-
quent on its function, and better fitting it to its function.
Later in the process of social evolution these local adapt-
ations are greatly multiplied. A result of differences in
soil and climate, is that the rural inhabitants in different
parts of the kingdom have their occupations partially special-
ized ; and become respectively distinguished as chiefly pro-
ducing cattle, or sheep, or wheat, or oats, or hops, or cyder.
People living where coal-fields are discovered are transform-
ed into colliers ; Cornishmen take to mining because Corn-
wall is metalliferous ; and the iron-manufacture is the domi-
nant industry where iron-stone is plentiful. Liverpool
has assumed the office of importing cotton, in consequence of
its proximity to the district w^here cotton goods are made;
and for analogous reasons, Hull has become the chief port at
which foreign wools are brought in. Even in the establish-
ment of breweries, of dye-works, of slate-quarries, of brick-
yards, we may see the same truth. So that both in general
and in detail, the specializations of the social organism which
characterize separate districts, primarily depend on local
circumstances. Those divisions of labour which under an-
other aspect were interpreted as due to the setting up of motion
in the directions of least resistance (§ 80), are here in-
terpreted as due to differences in tlie incident forces ; and
the two interpretations are quite consistent with each
other. For that which in each case determines the direction

426 THE INSTABILITY OF THE HOMOGENEOUS.

of least resistance, is the distribution of the forces to be over-
come ; and hence unlikenesses of distribution in separate
localities, entails unlikenesses in the course of human action
in those localities — entails industrial differentiations.

§ 155. It has still to be shown that this general truth is
demonstrable a priori. We have to prove specifically that
the instability of the homogeneous is a corollary from the
persistence of force. Already this has been tacitly implied
by assigning unlikeness in the exposure of its parts to
surrounding agencies, as the reason why a uniform mass loses
its uniformity. But here it will be proper to expand this
tacit implication into definite proof.

On striking a mass of matter with such force as either to
indent it or make it fly to pieces, we see both that the blow
afiects difierently its different parts, and that the difierences
are consequent on the unlike relations of its parts to the
force impressed. The part with which the striking body
comes in contact, receiving the whole of the communicated
momentum, is driven in towards the centre of the mass.
It thus compresses and tends to displace the more centrally
situated portions of the mass. These, however, cannot be
compressed or thrust out of their places without pressing on
all surrounding portions. And when the blow is violent
enough to fracture the mass, we see, in the radial dispersion
of its fragments, that the original momentum, in being dis-
tributed throughout it, has been divided into numerous minor
momenta, unlike in their directions. We see that these di-
rections are determined by the positions of the parts with re-
spect to each other, and with respect to the point of impact.
We see that the parts are difierently afiected by the disrup-
tive force, because they are differently related to it in their
directions and attachments — that the effects being the joint
products of the cause and the conditions, cannot be alike in
parts which are differently conditioned. A body on

which radiant heat is falling, exemplifies this truth stiU more

rVH INSTABILITY OF THE HOMOGENEOUS. 427

clearly. I'aking tlie simplest case (that of a sphere) we see
that while the part nearest to the radiating centre receives
the rays at right angles, the rays strike the other parts of the
exposed side at all angles from 90** down to 0". Again, the
molecular vibrations propagated through the mass from the
surface which receives the heat, must proceed inwards at an-
gles dijffering for each point. Further, the interior parts of
the sphere affected by the vibrations proceeding from all
points of the heated side, must be dissimilarly affected in pro-
portion as their positions are dissimilar. So that whether
they be on the recipient area, in the middle, or at the remote
side, the constituent atoms are all thrown into states of vibra-
tion more or less unlike each other.

But now, what is the ultimate meaning of the conclusion
that a uniform force produces different changes throughout a
uniform mass, because the parts of the mass stand in different
relations to the force ? Fully to understand this, we must
contemplate each part as simultaneously subject to other
forces — those of gravitation, of cohesion, of molecular motion,
&c. The effect wrought by an additional force, must be a
resultant of it and the forces already in action. If the forces
already in action on two parts of any aggregate, are different in
their directions, the effects produced on these two parts by like
forces must be different in their directions. "Why must they be
different ? They must be different because such unlikeness as
exists between the two sets of factors, is made by the presence
in the one of some specially-directed force that is not pre-
sent in the other ; and that this force will produce an
effect, rendering the total result in the one case unlike that
in the other, is a necessary corollary from the persistence of
force. Still more manifest does it become that the dis-

similarly-placed parts of any aggregate must be dissimilarly
modified by an incident force, when we remember that the
quantities of the incident force to which they are severally
subject, are not equal, as above supposed ; but are nearly al-
ways very imequal. The outer parts of masses are usually

428 THB INSTABILITY OF THE HOMOGENEOUS.

alone exposed to chemical actions; and not only are their
inner parts shielded from the affinities of external elements,
but such affinities are brought to bear imequally on their
surfaces ; since chemical action sets up currents through the
medium in which it takes place, and so brings to the various
parts of the surface unequal quantities of the active agent.
Again, the amounts of any external radiant force which the
different parts of an aggregate receive, are widely contrasted :
we have the contrast between the quantity falling on the
side next the radiating centre, and the quantity, or rather no
quantity, falling on the opposite side ; we have contrasts in
the quantities received by differently- placed areas on the
exposed side; and we have endless contrasts between the
quantities received by the various parts of the interior. Simi-
larly when mechanical force is expended on any aggregate,
either by collision, continued pressure, or tension, the amounts
of strain distributed throughout the mass are manifestly
unlike for unlike positions. But to say the different parts of
an aggregate receive different quantities of any incident force,
is to say that their states are* modified by it in different
degrees — is to say that if they were before homogeneous in
their relations they must be rendered to a proportionate
extent heterogeneous ; since, force being persistent, the
different quantities of it falling on the different parts,
must work in them different quantities of effect — different
changes. Yet one more kindred deduction is required

to complete the argument. We may, by parallel reasoning,
reach the conclusion that, even apart from the action of any ex-
ternal force, the equilibrium of a homogeneous aggregate must
be destroyed by the imequal actions of its j)arts on each other.
That mutual influence which produces aggregation (not to
mention other mutual influences) must work different effects
on the different parts ; since they are severally exposed to it
in unlike amounts and directions. This will be clearly seen
on remembering that the portions of which the whole is made
up, may be severally regarded as minor wholes ; that on each of

THE INSTABILITY OF TIIE HOMOGENEOUS. 420

these minor wholes, the action of the entire aggregate then
becomes an external incident force ; that such external inci-
dent force must, as above shown, work unlike changes in tho
parts of any such minor whole ; and that if the minor wholes
are severally thus rendered heterogeneous, the entire aggre-
gate is rendered heterogeneous.

The instability of the homogeneous is thus deducible from
that primordial truth which underlies our intelligence. One
stable homogeneity only, is hypothetically possible. If centres
of force, absolutely uniform in their powers, were difiiised
with absolute uniformity through unlimited space, they would
remain in equilibrium. This however, though a verbally
intelligible supposition, is one that cannot be represented in
thought ; since unlimited space is inconceivable. But all
finite forms of the homogeneous — all forms of it which we
can know or conceive, must inevitably lapse into hetero-
geneity. In three several ways does the persistence of force
necessitate this. Setting external agencies aside, each unit
of a homogeneous whole must be differently affected from
any of the rest by the aggregate action of the rest upon it.
The resultant force exercised by the aggregate on each imit,
being in no two cases alike in both amount and direction, and
usually not in either, any incident force, even if uniform in
amount and direction, cannot produce like effects on the units.
And the various positions of the parts in relation to any in-
cident force, preventing them from receiving it in uniform
amounts and directions, a further difference in the effects
wrought on them is inevitably produced.

One further remark is needed. To the conclusion that
the changes with which Evolution comtnenccs, are thus ne-
cessitated, remains to be added the conclusion that these
changes must continue. The absolutely homogeneous must
lose its equilibriimi ; and the relatively homogeneous must
lapse into the relatively less homogeneous. That which
is true of any total mass, is true of the parts into which
it segregates. Tho uniformity of each such part must

480 THE INSTABILITY OF THE HOMOGEJJEGOS.

as inevitably be lost in multiformity, as was that of tbe
original whole ; and for like reasons. And thus the continued
changes which characterize Evolution, in so far as they are
constituted by the lapse of the homogeneous into the hetero-
geneous, and of the less heterogeneous into the more hetero-
geneous, are necessary consequences of the persistence of

£0706..

CHAPTER XX.

THE MULTIPLICATION OF EFFECTS.

§ 156. To the cause of increasing complexity set forth in
the last chapter, we have in this chapter to add another.
Though secondary in order of time, it is scarcely secondary in
order of importance. Even in the absence of the cause
already assigned, it would necessitate a change from the
homogeneous to the heterogeneous ; and joined with it, it
makes this change both more rapid and more involved. To
come in sight of it, we have but to pursue a step further,
that conflict between force and matter already delineated.
Let us do this.

When a uniform aggregate is subject to a uniform force,
we have seen that its constituents, hieing differently condi-
tioned, are differently modified. But while we have con-
templated the various parts of the aggregate as thus undergo-
ing unlike changes, we have not yet conteniplated the unlike
changes simultaneously produced on the various parts of the
incident force. These must be as numerous and important as
the others. Action and re-action being equal and opposite, it
follows that in difierentiating the parts on which it falls in
unlike ways, the incident force must itself be correspond-
ingly differentiated. Instead of being as before, a uniform
force, it must thereafter be a multiform force — a group of
dissimilar forces. A few illustrations will make this truth
manifest.

432 THE MULTIPLICATION OF EFFECTS.

A single force is divided by conflict with matter into
forces tliat widely diverge. In the case lately cited, of a
body shattered by violent collision, besides the change of the
homogeneous mass into a heterogeneous group of scattered
fragments, there is a change of the homogeneous momentum
into a group of momenta, heterogeneous in both amounts
and directions. Similarly with the forces we know as light
and heat. After the dispersion of these by a radiating body
towards all points, they are re-dispersed towards all points
by the bodies on which they fall. Of the Sun's rays, issu-
ing from him on every side, some few strike the Moon.
These being reflected at all angles from the Moon's sur-
face, some few of them strike the Earth. By a like
process the few which reach the Earth are again dif-
fused through surrounding space. And on each occasion,
such portions of the rays as are absorbed instead of re-
flected, undergo refractions that equally destroy their
parallelism. More than this is true. By conflict

with matter, a uniform force is in part changed into forces
difiering in their directions ; and in part it is changed into
forces difiering in their kinds. "When one body is struck
against another, that which we usually regard as the effect,
is a change of position or motion in one or both bodies. But
a moment's thought shows that this is a very incomplete
view of the matter. Besides the visible mechanical result,
sound is produced ; or, to speak accurately, a vibration in
one or both bodies, and in the surrounding air : and under
some circumstances we call this the effect. Moreover, the
air has not simply been made to vibrate, but has had currents
raised in it by the transit of the bodies. Further, if there is
not that great structural change which we call fracture, there
is a disarrangement of the particles of the two bodies around
their point of collision ; amounting in some cases to a visible
condensation. Yet more, this condensation is accompanied
by disengagement of heat. In some cases a spark — that is,
light — results, from the incandescence of a portion struck

THE MULTIPLICATION OF EFFKCTS. 433

off; and occasionally this incandescence is associated with
chemical combination. Thus, by the original mechanical
force expended in the collision, at least five, and often more,
different kinds of forces have been produced. Take, again,
the lighting of a candle. Primarily, this is a chemical
change consequent on a rise of temperature. The process of
combination having once been set going by extraneous heat,
there is a continued formation of carbonic acid, water, &c. —
in itself a result more complex than the extraneous heat that
first caused it. But along with this process of combination
there is a production of heat ; there is a production of light ;
there is an ascending column of hot gases generated ; there
are currents established in the surrounding air. Nor docH
the decomposition of one force into many forces end here.
Each of the several changes worked becomes the parent of
further changes. The carbonic acid formed, will by and by
combine with some base ; or under the influence of sunshine
give up its carbon to the leaf of a plant. The water will
modify the hygrometric state of the air aromid ; or, if the
current of hot gases containing it come against a cold body,
will be condensed: altering the temperature, and perhaps
the chemical state, of the surface it covers. The heat given
out melts the subjacent tallow, and expands whatever it
warms. The light, falling on various substances, calls forth
from them reactions by which it is modified ; and so divert
colours are produced. Similarly even with these secondary
actions, which may be traced out into ever- multiplying
ramifications, until they become too minute to be appreci-
ated. Universally, then, the effect is more complex
than the cause. Whether the aggregate on which it falls be
homogeneous or otherwise, ap^tficfdent force is transformed
by the conflict into a number of forces that differ in their
amounts, or directions, or kinds ; or in all these respects.
And of this group of variously-modified forces, each ulti-
mately undergoes a Kke transformation.

Let us now mark how the process of evolution is furthered
20

iSi THE MULTIPLICATION OF EFFECTS.

by this multiplication of effects. An incident force decom«
posed by the reactions of a body into a group of u alike forces
— a uniform force tbus reduced to a multiforrja force — be-
comes tbe cause of a secondary increase of m.ultiforiuity in
the body which decomposes it. In the last chapter we saw
that the several parts of an aggregate are differently modi-
fied by any incident force. It has just been shown that by the
reactions of the differently modified parts, the incident force
itself must be divided into differently modified part^. Here
it remains to point out that each differentiated division of
the aggregate, thus becomes a centre from which a differen-
tiated division of the original force is again diffused. And
since unlike forces must produce unlike results, each of these
differentiated forces must produce, throughout the aggregate,
a further series of differentiations. This secondary

cause of the change from homogeneity to heterogeneity,
obviously becomes more potent in proportion as the hetero-
geneity increases. When the parts into which any evolving
whole has segregated itself, have diverged widely in nature,
they will necessarily react very diversely on any incident
force — they will divide an incident force into so many
strongly contrasted groups of forces. And each of them be-
coming the centre of a quite distinct set of influences, must
add to the number of distinct secondary changes wrought
throughout the aggregate. Yet another corollary

must be added. The number of unlike parts of which an
ajrcrreirate consists, as well as the deorree of their unlikeness,
is an important factor in the process. Every additional
specialized division is an additional centre of specialized
forces. If a uniform whole, in being itself made multiform
by an incident force, makes the incident force multiform ; if
a whole consisting of two unlike sections, divides an incident
force into two unlHie groups of multiform forces ; it is clear
that each new unlike section must be a further source of com-
plication among the forces at work throughout the mass— a
further source of heterogeneity. The multiplication of

THE MULTIPLICATION OF EFFECTS. 435

effects must proceed in geometrical progression. Each stage
of evolution must initiate a higher stage.

8 157. The force of aggregation acting on irregular masses
of rare matter, difiused through a resisting medium, will not
cause such masses to move in straight lines to their common
centre of gravity ; but, as before said, each will take a curvi-
linear patii, directed to one or other side of the centre of
gravity. All of them being differently conditioned, gravita-
tion will impress on each a motion differing in direction, in
velocity, and in the degree of its curvature — uniform aggre-
gative force will be differentiated into multiform momenta.
The process thus commenced, must go on tUL it produces a
single mass of nebulous matter ; and these independent curvi-
linear motions must result in a movement of this mass round
its axis : a simultaneous condensation and rotation in which
we see how two effects of the aggregative force, at first but
slightly divergent, become at. last widely differentiated. A
gradual increase of oblateness in this revolving spheroid, must
take place through the joint action of these two forces, as tho
bulk diminishes and the rotation grows more rapid ; and this
we may set down as a third effect. The genesis of heat, which
must accompany augmentation of density, is a consequence
of yet another order — a consequence by no means simple ;
since the various parts of the mass, being variously condensed,
must be variously heated. Acting throughout a gaseous
spheroid, of which the parts are unlike in their temperatures,
the forces of aggregation and rotation must work a further
series of changes : they must set up circulating currents,
both general and local. At a later stage light as well as heat
will be generated. Thus -svdthout dwelling on the likelihood
of chemical combinations and electric disturbances, it is suf-
ficiently manifest that, supposing matter to have originally
existed in a difiused state, the once uniform force which
caused its aggregation, must have become gradually divided
into different forces ; and that each further stage of compli-

436 THE MULTIPLICATION OF EFFECTS.

cation in the resulting aggregate, must have initiated furthet
subdivisions of this force — a further multiplication of effects,
increasing the previous heterogeneity.

This section of the argument may however be adequately
sustained, without having recourse to any such hypothetical
illustrations as the foregoing. The astronomical attributes
of the Earth, will even alone suffice our purpose. Consider
first the effects of its momentum round its axis. There is the
oblateness of its form ; there is the alternation of day and
night ; there are certain constant marine currents ; and
there are certain constant aerial currents. Consider next
the secondary series of consequences due to the divergence
of the Earth's plane of rotation from the plane of its orbit.
The many differences of the seasons, both simultaneous
and successive, which pervade its surface, are thus caused.
External attraction acting on this rotating oblate spheroid
with inclined axis, produces the motion called limitation, and
that slower and larger one from which follows the precession of
the equinoxes, with its several sequences. And then by this
same force are generated the tides, aqueeus and atmospheric.

Perhaps, however, the simplest way of showing the multi-
plication of effects among phenomena of this order, will be to
set down the influences of any member of the Solar System on
the rest. A planet directly produces in neighbouring planets
certain appreciable perturbations, complicating those other-
wise produced in them ; and in the remoter planets it directly
produces certain less visible perturbations. Here is a first
series of effects. But each of the perturbed planets is itself a
source of perturbations — each directly affects all the others.
Hence, planet A having drawn planet B out of the position
it would have occupied in A's absence, the perturbations
which B causes are different from what they would else
have been ; and similarly with C, D, E, &c. Here then is a
secondary series of effects : far more numerous though far
smaller in their amounts. As these indirect perturbations
must to some extent modify the movements of each planet,

THE MULTIPLICATION OF EFFECTS. 437

there results from tliem a tertiary series ; and so on contin-
ually. Thus the force exercised by any planet works a dif-
ferent effect on each of the rest ; this different effect is from
each as a centre partially broken up into minor different
effects on the rest ; and so on in ever multipMng and dimin-
ishing waves throughout the entire system.

§ 153. If tho Earth was formed by the concentration of
diffused matter, it must at first have been incandescent ; and
whether the nebjilar h;y^othesis be accepted or not, this ori-
ginal incandescence of the Earth must now be regarded as in-
ductively established — or, if not established, at least rendered
60 probable that it is a generally admitted geological doctrine.
Several results of the gradual cooling of the Earth — as the
formation of a crust, the solidification of sublimed elements,
the precipitation of water, &c., have been already noticed —
and I here again refer to them merely to point out that they
are simultaneous effects of the one cause, diminishing heat.
Let us now, however, observe the multiplied changes afterwards
arising from the continuance of this one cause. The

Earth, falling in temperature, must contract. Ilence the solid
crust at any time existing, is presently too large for tho
shrinking nucleus ; and being unable to support itself, inevit-
ably follows the nucleus. But a spheroidal envelope cannot
sink down into contact with a smaller internal spheroid, with-
out disruption : it will run into wrinkles, as the rind of an
apple does when the bulk of its interior decreases from eva-
poration. As the cooling progresses and the envelope thick-
ens, the ridges consequent on these contractions must become
greater ; rising ultimately into hills and mountains ; and the
later systems of mountains thus produced must not only bo
higher, as we find them to be, but they must be longer, as we
also find them to be. Thus, leaving out of view other modi-
fying forces, we see what immense heterogeneity of surface
arises from the one cause, loss of heat — a heterogeneity which
the telescope shows us to be paralleled on the Moon, where aque-

438 THE MULTIPLICATION OF EFFECTS.

ous and atmospheric agencies have been absent. But

we have yet to notice another kind of heterogeneity of
surface, simiUrly and simultaneously caused. While the
Earth's crust was still thin, the ridges produced by its con-
traction must not only have been small, but the tracts between
them must have rested with comparative smoothness on the
subjacent liquid spheroid ; and the water in those arctic and
antarctic regions where it first condensed, must have been
evenly distributed. But as fast as the crust grew thicker
and gained corresponding strength, the lines^of fracture from
time to time caused in it, necessarily occurred at greater dis-
tances apart ; the intermediate surfaces followed the contract-
ing nucleus with less uniformity ; and there consequently
resulted larger areas of land and water. If any one, after
wrapping an orange in wet tissue paper, and observing both
how small are the wrinkles and how evenly the intervening
spaces lie on the surface of the orange, will then wrap it in
tliick cartridge-paper, and note both the greater height of the
ridges and the larger spaces throughout which the paper does
not touch the orange, he will realize the fact, that as the
Earth's solid envelope thickened, the areas of elevation and
depression became greater. In place of islands more or less
homogeneously scattered over an all-embracing sea, there must
have gradually arisen heterogeneous arrangements of conti-
nent and ocean, such as we now know. This double
change in the extent and in the elevation of the lands, in-
volved yet another species of heterogeneity — that of coast-line.
A tolerably even surface raised out of the ocean will have a
simple, regular sea -margin ; but a surface varied by table-
lands and intersected by mountain- chains, will, when raised
out of the ocean, have an outline extremely irregular, alike
in its leading features and in its details. Thus endless is the
accumulation of geological and geographical results slowly
brought about by this one cause — the escape of the Earth's
primitive heat.

When we pass from the agency which geologists term ig-

THE MULTIPLICATION OF EFFECTS. 431)

neous, to aqueous and atmosplieric agencies, we see a like
ever-growing complication of effects. The denuding actions
of air and water have, from the beginning, been modifying
every exposed surface : everywhere working many different
changes. As already shown (§ 69) the original source of those
gaseous and fluid motions which effect denudation, is the solar
heat. The transformation of this into various modes of force,
according to the nature and condition of the matter on whicli
it falls, is the first stage of complication. The sun's rays,
striking at all angles a sphere, that from moment to moment
presents and withdraws different parts of its surface, and each
of them for a different time daily throughout the year, would
produce a considerable variety of changes even were the
sphere uniform. But falling as they do on a sphere sur-
rounded by an atmosphere in some parts of which wide areas
of cloud are suspended, and which here unveQs vast tracts of
sea, there of level land, there of mountains, there of snow and
ice, they initiate in its several parts countless different move-
ments. Currents of air of all sizes, directions, velocities, and
temperatures, are set up ; as axe also marine currents simi-
larly contrasted in their characters. In this region the sur-
face is giving off water in the state of vapour ; in that, dew
is being precipitated ; and in the other rain is descending —
differences that arise from the ever-changing ratio between
the absorption and radiation of heat in each place. At one
hour, a rapid fall in temperature leads to the formation of ice,
with an accompanying expansion throughout the moist
bodies frozen ; while at another, a thaw unlocks the dislocated
fragments of these bodies. And then, passing to a second
stage of complication, we see that the many kinds of motion
directly or indirectly caused by the sun's rays, severally pro-
duce results that vary with the conditions. Oxidation,
drought, wind, frost, rain, glaciers, rivers, waves, and other
denuding agents effect disintegrations that are determined in
their amounts and qualities by local circumstances. Acting
apon a tract of granite, such agents here work Bcarcely an

440 THE MULTIPLlCAl ION OF EFFECTS.

appreciable effect ; there cause exfoliations of the surface, ttiul
a resulting heap of debris and boulders ; and elsewhere, after
decomposing the feldspar into a white clay, carry away this
with the accompanying quartz and mica, and deposit them
in separate beds, fluyiatile and marine. When the exposed
land consists of several unlike formations, sedimentary and
igneous, changes proportionably more heterogeneous are
wrought. The formations being disintegrable in different de-
grees, there foUow^s an increased irregularity of surface. The
areas drained by different rivers being differently constituted,
these rivers carry down to the sea unlike combinations of
ingredients ; and so sundry new strata of distinct composition
arise. And here indeed we may see very simply illustrated,
the truth, that the heterogeneity of the effects increases in a
geometrical progression, with the heterogeneity of the object
acted upon. A continent of complex structure, presenting
many strata irregularly distributed, raised to various levels,
tilted up at all angles, must, under the same denuding agen-
cies, give origin to immensely multiplied results : each dis-
trict must be peculiarly modified ; each river must carry
down a distinct kind of detritus ; each deposit must be differ-
ently distributed by the entangled currents, tidal and other,
which wash the contorted shores ; and every additional com •
plication of surface must be the cause of more than one ad-
ditional consequence. But not to dwell on these, let us,
for the fuller elucidation of this truth in relation to the inor-
ganic world, consider what would presently follow from some
extensive cosmical revolution — say the subsidence of Central
America. The immediate results of the disturbance would
themselves be sufficiently complex. Besides the numberless
dislocations of strata, the ejections of igneous matter, the
propagation of earthquake vibrations thousands of miles
around, the loud explosions, and the escape of gases, there
would be the rush of the Atlantic and Pacific Oceans to sup-
ply the vacant space, the subsequent recoil of enormous
waves, which w^ould traverse both these oceans and produce

THE MTJLTrPLlCATION OF EFFECTS. 4dl

myriads of ^changes along their shores, the corresponding at-
mospheric waves complicated by the currents surrounding each
volcanic vent, and the electrical discharges with which such
disturbances are accompanied. But these temporary effects
would be insignificant compared with the permanent ones.
The complex currents of the Atlantic and Pacific would bo
altered in directions and amounts. The distribution of heat
achieved by these currents would be different from what it is.
The arrangement of the isothermal lines, not only on the
neighbouring continents, but even throughout Europe, would
be changed. The tides would flow differently from what
they do now. There would be more or less modification of
the winds in their periods, strengths, directions, qualities.
Rain would fall scarcely anywhere at the same times and in
the same quantities as at present. In short, the meteorolo-
gical conditions thousands of miles off, on all sides, would be
more or less revolutionized. In these many changes, each of
which comprehends countless minor ones, the reader will see
the immense heterogeneity of the residts wrought out by one
force, when that force expends itself on a previously compli-
cated area ; and he will readily draw the corollary that from
the beginning the complication has advanced at an increasing
rate.

§ 159. We have next to tracd throughout organic evolu
tion, this same all- pervading principle. And here, wliere
the transformation of the homogeneous into the heterogeneous
was first observed, tho production of many changes by one
cause is least easy to demonstrate. The development of a seed
into a plant, or an ovum into an animal, is so gradual ; while
the forces which determine it are so involved, and at the same
time so unobtrusive ; that it is difficult to detect the multipli-
cation of effects which is elsewhere so obvious. Nevertheless,
by indirect evidence we may establish our proposition ; spite
of the lack of direct evidence.

Observe, first, how numerous are the changes which any

4,4i{ THE MULTIPLICATION OF EFFECTS.

marked stimulus works on an adult organism — a human being,
for instance. An alarming sound or sight, besides impressions
on the organs of sense and the nerves, may produce a start, a
scream, a distortion of the face, a trembling consequent on
general muscular relaxation, a burst of perspiration, an excited
action of the heart, a rush of blood to the brain, followed
possibly by arrest of the heart's action and by syncope ; and
if the system be feeble, an illness with its long train of
complicated symptoms may set in. Similarly in cases of
disease. A minute portion of the small-pox virus introduced
into the system, will, in a severe case, cause, during the first
stage, rigors, heat of skin, accelerated pulse, furred tongue,
loss of appetite, thirst, epigastric uneasiness, vomiting, head-
ache, pains in the back and limbs, muscular weakness, con-
vulsions, delirium, &c. ; in the second stage, cutaneous erup-
tion, itching, tingling, sore throat, swelled fauces, salivation,
cough, hoarseness, dyspnoea, &c. ; and in the third stage,
oedematous inflammations, pneumonia, pleurisy, diarrhoea,
inflammation of the brain, ophthalmia, erysipelas, &c. : each
of which enumerated symptoms is itself more or less complex.
Medicines, special foods, better air, might in like manner be
instanced as producing multiplied results. Now it

needs only to consider th-at the many changes thus wrought
by one force on an adult organism, must be partially paral-
leled in an embryo-organism, to understand how here also
the production of many efiects by one cause is a source of
increasing heterogeneity. The external heat and other
agencies which determine the first complications of the germ,
will, by acting on these, superinduce further complications ;
on these still higher and more numerous ones ; and so on
continually : each organ as it is developed, serving, by its
actions and reactions on the rest, to initiate new complexities.
The first pulsations of the foetal heart must simultaneously
aid the unfolding of every part. The growth of each tissue,
by taking from the blood special proportions of elements,
must modify the constitution of the blood ; and so must

THE MULTIPLlCATinN OF EFFECTS. 44*J

modify the nutrition of all the other tissues. The distributive
actions, implying as they do a certain waste, necessitate an
addition to the blood of effete matters, which must influence
the rest of the system, and perhaps, as some think, initiate
the formation of excretory organs. The nervous connections
established among the viscera must further multiply their
mutual influences. And so with every modification of
structure — every additional part and every alteration in the
ratios of parts. Still stronger becomes the proof when

we call to mind the fact, that the same germ may be evolved
into difierent forms according to circumstances. Thus, dur-
ing its earlier stages, every embryo is sexless — becomes either
male or female as the balance of forces acting on it deter-
mines. Again, it is well-known that the larva of a working-
bee will develop into a queen-bee, if, before a certain period,
its food be changed to that on which the larvae of queen-bees
are fed. Even more remarkable is the case of certain
entozoa. The ovum of a tape-worm, getting into the intes-
tine of one animal, unfolds into the form of its parent ; but
if carried into other parts of the system, or into the intestine
of some unlike animal, it becomes one of the sac-like creatures,
called by naturalists Cysticerciy or Cxnuri, or Echinococci
— creatures so extremely different from the tape-worm
in aspect and structure, that only after careful investiga-
tions have they been proved to have the same origin.
All which instances imply that each advance in embryonic
complication results from the action of incident forces on the
complication pre\iously existing. Indeed, the now

accepted doctrine of epigenesis necessitates the conclusion that
organic evolution proceeds after this manner. For since it is
proved that no germ, animal or vegetal, contains the slightest
rudiment, trace, or indication of the future organism — since
the microscope has shown us that the first process set up in
every fertilized germ 4s a process of repeated spontaneous
fissions, ending in the production of a mass of cells, not one
of which exhibits any special character; there seems no

444 THE MULTIPLICATION OF EFFECTS.

alternative but to conclude that tlie partial organization at
any moment subsisting in a growing embryo, is transformed
by the agencies acting on it Into the succeeding phase of
organization, and this into the next, until, through ever-
increasing complexities, the ultimate form is reach-
ed. Thus, though the subtlety of the forces and the
slowness of the metamorphosis, prevent us from directly
tracing the genesis of many changes by one cause, throughout
the successive stages which every embryo passes through ;
yet, indirectly, we have strong evidence that this is a source
of increasing heterogeneity. "We have marked how multi-
tudinous are the effects which a single agency may generate
in an adult organism ; that a like multiplication of effects
must happen in the unfolding organism, we have inferred
from sundry illustrative cases ; further, it has been pointed
out that the ability which like germs have to originate un-
like forms, implies that the successive transformations result
from the new changes superinduced on previous changes ;
and we have seen that structureless as every germ originally
is, the development of an organism out of it is otherwise in-
comprehensible. Doubtless we are still in the dark respect-
ing those mysterious properties which make the germ, when
subject to fit influences, undergo the special changes begin-
ning this scries of transformations. All here contended is,
that given a germ possessing these mysterious properties, the
evolution of an organism from it depends, in part, on that
multiplication of effects which we have seen to be a cause of
evolution in general, so far as we have yet traced it.

When, leaving the development of single plants and ani-
mals, we pass to that of the Earth's flora and fauna, the
course of the argument again becomes clear and simple.
Though, as before admitted, the fragmentary facts Palajon-
tology has accumulated, do not clearly warrant us in saying
that, in the lapse of geologic time, there have been evolved
more heterogeneous organisms, and more heterogeneous
assemblages of organisms ; yet we shall now see that there

THE MULTIPLICATION OF EFFECTS. 445

must ever have been a tendency towards these results. TVe
shall find that the production of many effects by one cause,
which, as already shown, has been all along increasing
the physical heterogeneity of the Earth, has further neces-
sitated an increasing heterogeneity in its flora and fauna,
individually and collectively. An illustration will make this
clear. Suppose that by a series of upheavals, occur-

ring, as they are now known to do, at long intervals, the East
Indian Archipelago were to be raised into a continent, and a
chain of mountains formed along the axis of elevation. By
the first of these upheavals, the plants and animals inhabit-
ing Borneo, Sumatra, New Guinea, and the rest, would be
subjected to slightly- modified sets of conditions. The climate
in general would be altered in temperature, in himiidity, and
in its periodical variations ; while the local difierences would
be multiplied. These modifications would afiect, perhaps
inappreciably, the entire flora and fauna of the region. The
change of level would produce additional modifications ;
varying in dificrent species, and also in difierent members of
the same species, according to their distance from the axis of
elevation. Plants, growing only on the sea-shore in special
localities, might become extinct. Others, living only in
swamps of a certain humidity, would, if they survived at all,
probably undergo visible changes of appearance. "While
more marked alterations would occur in some of the
plants that spread over the lands newly raised above the
sea. The animals and insects living on tliese modified plants,
woidd themselves be in some degree modified by change of
food, as well as by change of climate ; and the modification
would be more marked where, from the dwindling or disap-
pearance of one kind of plant, an allied kind was eaten. In
the lapse of the many generations arising before the next up-
lieaval, the sensible or insensible alterations thus produced in
each species, would become organized — in all the races that
survived there would be a more or less complete adaptation
to the new conditions. The next upheaval would supcrin-

f4G THE MULTIPLICATION OF EFFECTS.

duce further organic changes, implying wider divergences
from the primary forms ; and so repeatedly. Now however
let it be observed that this revolution would not be a substi-
tution of a thousand modified species for the thousand
original species ; but in place of the thousand original species
there would arise several thousand species, or varieties, or
changed forms. Each species being distributed over an area
of some extent, and tending continually to colonize the new
area exposed, its difierent members would be subject to dif-
ferent sets of changes. Plants and animals migrating to-
wards the equator would not be aJffected in the same way
with others migrating from it. Those which spread towards
the new shores, would undergo changes unlike the changes
undergone by those which spread into the mountains. Thus,
each original race of organisms would become the root from
which diverged several races, differing more or less from it and
from each other ; and while some of these might subsequently
disappear, probably more than one would survive in the next
geologic period : the very dispersion itself increasing the
chances of survival. Not only would there be certain modi-
fications thus caused by changes of physical conditions and
food ; but also in some cases other modifications caused by
changes of habit. The fauna of each island, peopling, step
by step, the newly-raised tracts, would eventually come in
contact with the faunas of other islands ; and some members
of these other faunas would be unlike any creatures before
seen. Herbivores meeting with new beasts of prey, would,
in some cases, be led into modes of defence or escape differ-
ing from those previously used ; and simultaneously the
beasts of prey would modify their modes of 'pursuit and
attack. We know that when circumstances demand it, such
changes of habit do take place in animals ; and we know
that if the new habits become the dominant ones, they
must eventually in some degree alter the organiza-
tion. Observe now, however, a further consequence.
There must arise not simply a tendency towards the differen-

the' multiplication of effects. 447

(lution of each ra(ie of organisms into several races ; but also
a tendency to the occasional production of a somewhat higher
organism. Taken in the mass, these divergent varieties,
uhich have been caused by fresh physical conditions and
habits of life, will exhibit alterations quite indefinite in kind
and degree ; and alterations that do not necessarily consti-
tute an advance. Probably in most cases the modified type
will be not appreciably more heterogeneous than the original
one. But it 7nust now and then occur, that some division of
a species, falling into circumstances which give it rather
more complex experiences, and demand actions somewhat
more involved, will have certain of its organs further dif-
ferentioted in proportionately small degrees — will become
slightly more heterogeneous. Hence, there will from time
to time arise an increased heterogeneity both of the Earth's
flora and faima, and of individual races included in thenr.
Omitting detailed explanations, and allowing for the qualifi-
cations which cannot here be specified, it is sufficiently clear
that geological mutations have all along tended to complicate
the forms of life, whether regarded separately or collectively.
That multiplication of effects which has been a part-cause of
the transformation of the Earth's crust from the simple into
the complex, has simultaneously led to a parallel transforma-
tion of the Life upon its surface.*

The deduction here drawn from the established truths of

♦ Had this paragraph, first published in the Westminster Ecvieic in 1857, been
written after the appearance of Mr. Darwin's work on The Origin of Species, it
would doubtless have been otherwise Expressed. Reference would have been
made to the process of " natural selection," as greatly facilitating the differenti-
ations described. As it is, however, I prefer to let the passage stand in its origi-
nal shape : partly because it seems to me that these successive changes of condi-
tions would produce divergent varieties or species, apart from the influence of
" natural selection" (though in less numerous ways as well as less rapidly) ; and
partly because I conceive that in the absence of these successive changes of con-
ditions, " natural selection" would effect comparatively little. Let me add that
though these positions are not enunciated in The Origin of Species, yet a commou
friend gives me reason to think that Mr. Darwin would coincide in them ; if he
did not indeed consider them as tacitly implied in his work.

448 THE ^rULTIPLICATION OF EFFECTS.

geology and the general laws of life, gains immensely in ^^-eight
on finding it to be in harmony with an induction drawn from
direct experience. Just that divergence of many races from
one race, which we inferred must have been continually oc-
curring during geologic time, we know to have occurred dur-
ing the pre -historic and historic periods, in man and domestic
ftnimals. And just that multiplication of effects which we
concluded must have been instrumental to the first, we see
lias in a great measure wrought the last. Single causes, as
famine, pressure of population, war, have periodically led to
further dispersions of mankind and of dependent creatures :
each such dispersion initiating new modifications, new varieties
of type. "Whether all the human races be or be not derived
from one stock, philology makes it clear that whole groups of
races, now easily distinguishable from each other, were origin-
ally one race — that the diffusion of one race into different
climates and conditions of existence has produced many
altered forms of it. Similarly with domestic animals. Though
in some cases (as that of dogs) community of origin wiU per-
haps be disputed, yet in other cases (as that of the sheep or
the cattle of our own country) it will not be questioned that
local differences of climate, food, and treatment, have trans-
formed one original breed into numerous breeds, now become
so far distinct as to produce unstable hybrids. Moreover
through the complication of effects flowing from single causes,
we here find, what we before inferred, not only an increase of
general heterogeneity, but also of special heterogeneity.
AYhile of the divergent divisions and subdivisions of the hu-
man race, many have undergone changes not constituting an
advance ; others have become decidedly more heterogeneous.
The civilized European departs more widely from the verte-
brate archetype than does the savage.

§ 160. A sensation does not expend itself in arousing some
single state of consciousness ; but the state of consciousness
aroused is made up of various represented sensations connected

THB MULTIPLICATION OF EFFECrS. 419

by CO- existence, or sequence with the presented sensation.
And that, in proportion as the grade of intelligence is high,
the number of ideas suggested is great, may be readily inferred.
Let us, however, look at the proof that here too, each change
is the parent of many changes ; and that the multiplication
increases in proportion as the area affected is complex.

TVere some hitherto unknown bird, driven say by stress of
weather from the remote north, to make its appearance on
our shores, it would excite no speculation in the sheep or cat-
tle amid which it alighted : a perception of it as a creature
like those constantly flying about, would be the sole inter-
ruption of that dull current of consciousness which accom-
panies grazing and rumination. The cow-herd, by whom we
may suppose the exhausted bird to be presently caught, would
probably gaze at it with some slight curiosity, as being un-
like any he had before seen — would note its most conspicuous
markings, and vaguely ponder on the questions, where it
came from, and how it came. The village bird-stuifer would
have suggested to him by the sight of it, sundry forms to
which it bore a Kttle resemblance ; would receive from it more
numerous and more specific impressions respecting structure
and plumage ; would be reminded of various instances of
birds brought by storms from foreign parts — would tell who
found them, who stuffed them, who bought them. Suppos-
ing the unknown bird taken to a naturalist of the old school,
interested only in externals, (one of those described by the
late Edward Forbes, as examining animals as though they were
merely skins filled with straw,) it would excite in him a more
involved series of mental changes : there would be an elabor-
ate examination of the feathers, a noting of all their technical
distinctions, with a reduction of these perceptions to certain
equivalent written symbols; reasons for referring the new
form to a particular familj^, order, and genus would be sought
out and written down ; communications with the secretary of
some society, or editor of some journal, would follow ; ana
probably there would be not a few thoughts about the addi*

450 THE MULTIPLICATION OF EFFECTS.

tion of the ii to the describer's name, to form tlie name of the
species. Lastly, in the mind of a comparative anatomist, such
a new species, should it happen to have any marked internal
peculiarity, might produce additional sets of changes — might
very possibly suggest modified views respecting the relation-
ships of the division to which it belonged ; or, perhaps, alter
his conceptions of the homologies and developments of certain
organs ; and the conclusions drawn might not improbably
enter as elements into still wider inquiries concerning the
origin of organic forms.

From ideas let us turn to emotions. In a young child, a
father's anger produces little else than vague fear — a disagree-
able sense of impending evil, taking various shapes of physi-
cal suffering or deprivation of pleasures. 'In elder children,
the same harsh words will arouse additional feelings : some-
times a sense of shame, of penitence, or of sorrow for hav-
ing offended; at other times, a sense of injustice, and a
consequent anger. In the wife, yet a fui'ther range of feel-
ings may come into existence — perhaps wounded affection;
perhaps self-pity for ill-usage, perhaps contempt for ground •
less irritability, perhaps sympathy for some suffering which
the irritability indicates, perhaps anxiety about an unknown
misfortune which she thinks has produced it. Nor are we
without evidence that among adults, the like differences of de-
velopment are accompanied by like differences in the number
of emotions that are aroused, in combination or rapid succes-
sion— the lower natures being characterized by that impul-
siveness which results from the uncontrolled action of a few
feelings ; and tl^ higher natures being characterized by the
simultaneous action of many secondary feelings, modifying
those fir^ awakened.

Possibly it will be objected that tne illustrations here given,
are drawn from the functional changes of the nervous system,
not from its structural changes ; and that what is proved
among the first, does not necessarily hold among the last.
This must be admitted. Those^ however, who recognize the

THE MULTIPLICATION OF EFFECTS. 451

tnitt that the structural changes are the slowly accumulated
results of the functional changes, will readily draw the corol-
lary, that a part-cause of the evolution of the nervous system,
as of other evolution, is this multiplication of effects which
becomes 6ver greater as the development becomes higher.

§ 161. If the advance of Man towards greater heterogene-
ity in both body and mind, is in part traceable to the produc-
tion of many effects by one cause, still more clearly may the
advance of Society towards greater heterogeneity be so ex-
plained. Consider the growth of an industrial organization.
"When, as must occasionally happen, some individual of a
tribe displays unusual aptitude for making an article of gen-
eral use (a weapon, for instance) which was before made by
each man for himself, there arises a tendency towards the
differentiation of that individual into a maker of weapons.
His companions (warriors and hunters all of them) severally
wish to have the best weapons that can be made ; and are
therefore certain to offer strong inducements to this skilled
individual to make weapons for them. He, on the other hand,
having both an unusual faculty, and an imusual liking, for
making weapons (the capacity and the desire for any occu-
pation being commonly associated), is predisposed to fulfil
these commissions on the offer of adequate rewards : espe-
cially as his love of distinction is also gratified. This first
specialization of function, once commenced, tends ever to be-
come more decided. On the side of the weapon-maker, con -
tinned practice gives increased skill— increased superiority 'to
his products. On the side of his clients, cessation of practice
entails decreased skill. Thus the influences that determine
this division of labour grow stronger in both ways : this
social movement tends ever to become more decided in the
direction in which it was first set up ; and the iQcipient
heterogeneity is, on the average of cases, likely to become
permanent for that generation, if no longer. Such a

process, besides differentiatiag the social mass into two parts,

452 THE MULTIPLICATION OF EFFECTS.

the one monopolizing, or almost monopolizing, the perform-
ance of a certain function, and the other having lost the
habit, and in some measure the power, of performing that
function, has a tendency to initiate other differentiations. The
advance described implies the introduction of barter : the
maker of weapons has, on each occasion, to be paid in such
other articles as he agrees to take in exchange. Now he will
not habitually take in exchange one kind of article, but many
kinds. He does not want mats only, or skins, or fishing- gear ;
but he wants all these ; and on each occaaion will bargain
for the particular things he most needs. "What follows ? If
among the members of the tribe there exist any slight differ-
ences of skill in the manufacture of these various things, as
there are almost sure to do, the weapon-maker will take from
each one the thing which that one excels in making : he will
exchange for mats with him whose mats are superior, and
will 'bargain for the fishing-gear of whoever has the best.
■ But he who has bartered away his mats or his fishing-gear,
must make other mats or fishing-_2:ear for himself; and in so
doing must, in some degree, further develop his aptitude.
Thus it results that the small specialities of faculty possessed
by various members of the tribe will tend to grow more de-
cided. If such transactions are from time to time repeated,
these specializations may become appreciable. And whether
or not there ensue distinct differentiations of other individ-
uals into makers of particular articles, it is clear that incipi-
ent differentiations take place throughout the tribe : the one
original cause produces not only the first dual effect, but a
number of secondary dual effects, like in kind but minor in
degree. This process, of which traces may be seen

among groups of school-boys, cannot well produce a lasting
distribution of functions in an unsettled tribe ; but where
there grows up a fixed and multiplying community, such
differentiations become permanent, and increase with each
generation. An addition to the number of citizens, involv
ing a greater demand for every commodity, intensifies ihfi

THE MULTIPLICATION OF EFFECTS. 453

fuuctional activity of each specialized person or class ; and
this renders the specialization more definite where it al-
ready exists, and establishes it where it is but nascent. By
increasing the pressure on the means of subsistence, a larger
population again augments these results ; since every individ-
ual is forced more and more to confine himself to that which
he can do best, and by which he can gain most. And this
industrial progress, by aiding future production, opens the
way for further growth of population, which reacts as be-
fore. Presently, imder the same stimuli, new occu-
pations arise. Competing workers, severally aiming to pro-
duce improved articles, occasionally discover better processes
or better materials. In weapons and cutting-tools, the substi-
tution of bronze for stone entails on him who first makes it, a
great increase of demand — so great an increase that he pre-
sently finds all his time occupied in making the bronze for the
articles he sells, and is obliged to depute the fashioning of
these articles to others ; and eventually the making of bronze,
thus gradually differentiated from a pre-existing occupation,
becomes an occupation by itself. But now mark the ramified
changes which follow this change. Bronze soon replaces stone,
not only in the articles it was first used for, but in many others ;
and so affects the manufacture of them. Further, it affects the
processes which such improved utensils subserve, and the re-
sulting products — modifies buildings, carvings, di'ess, personal
decorations. Yet again, it sets going sundry manufactures
which were before impossible, from lack of a material fit for
the requisite tools. And all these changes react on the peo-
ple— increase their manipulative skill, their intelligence, their
comfort — refine their habits and tastes.

It is out of the question here to follow through its succes-
sive complications, this increasing social heterogeneity thai
results from the production of many effects by one cause.
But leaving the intermediate phases of social development,
let us take an illustration from its passing phase. To trace
the effects of steam-power, in its manifold applications to

454 THE MULTIPLICATION OF EFFECTS.

mining, navigation, and manufactures, would carry us into
unmanageable detail. Let us confine ourselves to the latest
embodiment of steam-power — the locomotive engine. This,
as tbe proximate cause of our railway-system, bas changed
the face of the country, the course of trade, and the habits of
the people. Consider, first, the complicated sets of changes
that precede the making of every railway — the provisional
arrangements, the meetings, the registration, the trial- section,
the parliamentary survey, the lithographed plans, the books
of reference, the local deposits and notices, the application to
Parliament, the passing Standing-Orders Committee, the first,
second, and third readings : each of which brief heads indi-
cates a multiplicity of transactions, and the further develop-
ment of sundry occupations, (as those of engineers, surveyors,
lithographers, parliamentary agents, share-brokers,) and the
creation of sundry others (as those of traffic-takers, reference-
takers). Consider, next, the yet more marked changes
implied in railway construction — thi3 cuttings, embankings,
tunnellings, diversions of roads ; the. building of bridges and
stations ; the laying down of ballast, sleepers, and rails ; the
making of engines, tenders, carriages, and wagons : which
processes, acting upon numerous trades, increase the import-
ation of timber, the quarrying of stone, the manufacture of
iron, the mining of coal, the burning of bricks ; institute a
variety of special manufactures weekly advertised in the
Hailway Times ; and call into being some new classes of
workers — drivers, stokers, cleaners, plate-layers, &c. &c.
Then come the changes, more numerous and involved still,
which railways in action produce on the community at large.
Ihe organization of every business is more or less modified:
ease of communication makes it better to do directly what
was before done by proxy ; agencies are established where
previously they would not have paid ; goods are obtained
from remote wholesale houses instead of near retail ones ; and
commodities are used which distance once rendered inacces-
sible. The rapidity and small cost of carriage, tend to special ■

THE MULTIPLICATION OF EFFECrS. 455

ize more than ever the industries of different districts — to
confine each manufacture to the parts in which, from local
advantages, it can be best caiTied on. Economical distribu-
tion equalizes prices, and also, on the average, lowers prices :
thus bringing divers articles within the means of those before
unable to buy them, and so increasing their comforts and
improving their habits. At the same time the practice of
travelling is immensely extended. Classes who before could
not afford it, take annual trips to the sea ; visit their distant
relations; make tours; and so we are benefited in body,
feelings, and intellect. The more prompt transmission of
letters and of news produces further changes — makes the
pulse of the nation faster. Yet more, there arises a wide
dissemination of cheap literature through railway book-stalls,
and of advertisements in railway carriages : both of them
aiding ulterior progress. And the innumerable changes here
briefly indicated are consequent on the invention of the loco-
motive engine. The social organism has been rendered more
heterogeneous, in virtue of the many new occupations intro-
duced, and the many old ones further specialized ; prices in
all places have been altered ; each trader has, more or less,
modified his way of doing business ; and every person has
been afiected in his actions, thoughts, emotions.

The only further fact demandiug notice, is, that we hero
see more clearly than ever, that in proportion as the area over
which any influence extends, becomes heterogeneous, the
results are in a yet higher degree multiplied in number and
kind. While among the primitive tribes to whom it was
first known, caoutchouc caused but few changes, among our-
selves the changes have been so many and varied that the
history of them occupies a volume. Upon the small, homo-
geneous community inhabiting one of the Hebrides, the
electric telegraph would produce, were it used, scarcely any
results ; but in England the results it produces are multitu-
dinous.

Space permitting, the synthesis might here be pursued

450 THE MULTIPLICATION OF EFFECTS.

in relation to all the subtler products of social life. It might
be shown how, in Science,, an advance of one division pre-
sently advances other divisions — how Astronomy has been
immensely forwarded by discoveries in Optics, while other
optical discoveries have initiated Microscopic Anatomy, and
greatly aided the growth of Physiology — how Chemistry has
indirectly increased our knowledge of Electricity, Magnetism,
Biolog)^, Geology — how Electricity has reacted on Chemistry
and Magnetism, developed our views of Light and Heat, and
disclosed sundry laws of nervous action. In Literature the
same truth might be exhibited in the still- multiplying forms
of periodical publications that have descended from the first
newspaper, and which have severally acted and reacted on
other forms of literature and on each other ; or in the bias
given by each book of power to various subsequent books.
The influence which a new school of Painting (as that of the
pre-Pafia elites) exercises on other schools ; the hints which
all kinds of pictorial art are deriving from Photography ; the
complex results of new critical doctrines ; might severally be
dwelt on as displaying the like multiplication of efiects. But
it would needlessly tax the reader's patience to detail, in
their many ramifications, these various changes : here be-
come so involved- and subtle as to be followed with some
difficulty.

§ 162. After the argument which closed the last chapter, a
parallel one seems here scarcely required. For symmetry's
sake, however, it will be proper briefly to point out how the
multiplication of efiects, like the instability of the homo-
geneous, is a corollary from the persistence of force.

Things which we call difierent are things which react in
iifierent ways ; and we can know them as difierent only by
the differences in their reactions. When we distinguish
bodies as hard and soft, rough and smooth, we simply mean
that certain like muscular forces expended on them are
followed by unlike sets of sensations— unlike reactive forces.

THE MULTIPLICATION OF EFFECTS. 457

Objects tliat are classed as red, blue, yellow, &c., are objects
that decompose light In strongly- contrasted ways ; that is, we
know contrasts of colour as contrasts in the changes produced
in a uniform incident force. Manifestly, any two things
which do not work unequal effects on consciousness, either by
unequally opposing our own energies, or by impressing our
senses with unequally modified forms of certain externa]
energies, cannot be distinguished by us. Hence the proposi
tion that the different parts of any whole must react differ-
ently on a uniform incident force, and must so reduce it to
a group of multiform forces, is in essence a truism. A
further step will reduce this truism to its lowest terms.

"VYhen, from unlikeness between the effects they produce
on consciousness, we predicate unlikeness between two ob-
jects, what is our warrant? and what do we mean by the
unlikeness, objectively considered ? Our warrant is the per-
sistence of force. Some kind or amount of change has been
wrought in us by the one, which has not been wrought by
the other. This change we ascribe to some force exercised by
the one which the other has not exercised. And we have no
alternative but to do this, or to assert that the change had
no antecedent ; which is to deny the persistence of force.
Whence it is further manifest that what we regard as the
objective unlikeness is the presence in the one of some force,
or set of forces, not present in the other — something in the
kinds or amounts or directions of the constituent forces of the
one, which those of the other do not parallel. But now if
things or parts of things which we call different, are those of
which the constituent forces differ in one or more respects ;
what must happ^i to any like forces, or any uniform force,
felling on them ? Such like forces, or parts of a uniform
force, must be differently modified. The force which is pre-
sent in the one and not in the other, must be an element in
the conflict — must produce its equivalent reaction ; and must
60 affect the total reaction. To say othervrise is to say that
21

458 THE MULTIPLICATION OF EFFECTS

this differential force will produce no effect ; which is to say
that force is not persistent.

I need not develop this corollary further. It manifestly
follows that a uniform force, falling on a uniform aggre-
gate, must undergo dispersion ; that falling on an aggregate
made up of unlike parts, it must undergo, dispersion from
each part, as well as qualitative differentiations ; that in pro-
portion as the parts are unlike, these qualitative differentia-
tions must be marked ; that in proportion to the number of
the parts, they must be numerous ; that the secondary forces
BO produced, must undergo further transformations while
working equivalent transformations in the parts that change
them ; and similarly with the forces they generate. Thus the
conclusions that a part- cause of Evolution is the multiplica-
tion of effects ; and that this increases in geometrical progres-
sion as the heterogeneity becomes greater ; are not only to be
established inductively, but are deducible from the deepest
of all truths

CHAPTEH XXL

SEGREGATION.

§ 163, The general interpretation of Evolution is far from
being completed in the preceding chapters. "We must con-
template its changes under yet another aspect, before we can
form a definite conception of the process constituted by them.
Though the laws already set forth, furnish a key to the re-
arrangement of parts which Evolution exhibits, in so far as
it is an advance from the uniform to the multiform ; they
furnish no key to this re-arrangement in so far as it is an
advance from the indefinite to the definite. On studj^ng the
actions and re-actions every^'here going on, we have found
it to follow inevitably from a certain primordial truth, that
the homogeneous must lapse into the heterogeneous, and that
the heterogeneous must become more heterogeneous ; but wr
have not discovered why the differently- affected parts of any
simple whole, become clearly marked off from each other, at
the same time that they become unlike. Thus far no reason
has been assigned why there should not ordinarily arise a
vague chaotic heterogeneity, in place of that orderly hetero-
geneity displayed in Evolution. It still remains to find out
the cause of that local integration which accompanies
local differentiation — that gradually-completed segregation^
of like units into a group, distinctly separated from neigh-
bouring groups which are severally made up of other kinds
of units. The rationale will be conveniently introduced by a

460 SEGEEGATION.

few instances In which we may watch this segregative pro-
cess taking place.

When towards the end of September, the trees are gaining
their autumn colours, and we are hoping shortly to see a
further change increasing still more the beauty of the land-
scape, we are not uncommonly disappointed by the occur-
rence of an equlnoxial gale. Out of the mixed mass of
foliage on each branch, the strong current of air carries
away the decaying and brightly-tinted leaves, but fails to
detach those which are still green. And while these last,
frayed and seared by long- continued beatings against each
other, and the twigs around them, give a sombre colour to
the woods, the red and, yellow and orange leaves are collected
together in ditches and behind walls and In corners where
eddies allow them to settle. That is to say, by the action of
that uniform force which the wind exerts on both kinds, the
dying leaves are picked out from among their still living com-
panions and gathered in places by themselves. Again, the
separation of particles of different sizes, as dust and sand
from pebbles, may be similarly effected ; as we see on every
road in March. And from the daj^s of Homer downwards,
the power of currents of air, natural and artificial, to part
from one another units of unlike specific gravities, has
been habitually utilized in the winnowing of chaff from
wheat. In every river we see how the mixed ma-

terials carried down, are separately deposited — ^how in rapids
the bottom gives rest to nothing but boulders and pebbles ;
how where the current Is not so strong, sand is let fall ; and
how, in still places, there is a sediment of mud. This select-
ive action of moving water, is commonly applied In the arts
to obtain masses of particles of different degrees of fineness.
Emery, for example, after being ground, is carried by a slow
current through successive compartments; in the first of
which the largest grains subside ; in the second of which
the grains that reach the bottom before the water has
escaped, are somewhat smaller; in the third smaller stiU;

SEGREGATION. 461

until in tho last there are deposited only those finest
particles which fall so slowly through the water, that they
have not previously been able to reach the bottom. And in
a way that is different though equally significant, this segre-
gative effect of water in motion, is exemplified in the carrj'-
ing away of soluble from insoluble matters — an application
of it hourly made in every laboratory. The effects ol

the uniform forces which aerial and aqueous currents exercise,
are paralleled by those of uniform forces of other orders. Elec-
tric attraction will separate small bodies from large, or light
bodies from heavy. By magnetism, grains of iron may be
selected from among other grains ; as by the Sheffield
grinder, whose magnetized gauze mask filters out the steel-
dust which his wheel gives off, from the stone-dust that
accompanies it. And how the affinity of any agent acting
differently on the components of a given body, enables us to
take away some component and leave the rest behind, is
shown in almost every chemical experiment.

What now is the general truth here variously presented ?
How are these several facts and countless similar ones, to bo
expressed in terms that embrace them ail ? In each case we
see in action a force which may be regarded as simple or uni-
form— fluid motion in a certain direction at a certain velocity ;
electric or magnetic attraction of a given amount ; chemical
affinity of a particular kind : or rather, in strictness, the act-
ing force is compounded of one of these and certain other
uniform forces, as gravitation, etc. In each case we have an
aggregate made up of unlike units — either atoms of different
substances combined or intimately mingled, or fragments of
the same substance of different sizes, or other constituent
parts that are unlike in their specific gravities, shapes, or
other attributes. And in each case these unlike units, or
groups of units, of which the aggregate consists, are, under
the influence of some resultant force acting indiscrimi-
nately on them all, separated from each other — segregated
into minor aggregates, each consisting of units that are

462 SEGREGATION.

severally like eacli other and unlike those of the other minor
aggregates. Such being the common aspect of these changes,
let US look for the common interpretation of them.

In the chapter on '* The Instability of the Homogeneous,"
it was shown that a uniform force falling on any aggregate,
produces unlike modifications in its different parts — turns the
uniform into the multiform and the multiform into the more
multiform. The transformation thus wrought, consists of
either insensible or sensible changes of relative position
among the units, or of both — either of those molecular re-
arrangements which we call chemical, or of those larger
transpositions which are distinguished as mechanical, or of
the two united. Such portion of the permanently effective
force as reaches each different part, or differently- conditioned
part, may be expended in modifying the mutual relations of
its constituents ; or it may be expended in moving the part
to another place ; or it may be expended partially in the first
and partially in the second. Hence, so much of the perma-
nently effective force as does not work the one kind of effect,
must work the other kind. It is manifest that if of the
permanently effective force which falls on some compound
unit of an aggregate, little, if any, is absorbed in re-arrang-
ing the ultimate components of such compound unit, much
or the whole, must show itself in motion of such compound
unit to some other place in the aggregate ; and conversely,
if little or none of this force is absorbed in generating me-
chanical transposition, much or the whole must go to pro-
duce molecular alterations. What now must follow
from this ? In cases where none or only part of the forc3
generates chemical re- distributions, what physical re-distri-
butions must be generated ? Parts that are similar to each
other will be similarly acted on by the force ; and will simi-
larly react on it. Parts that are dissimilar will be dissimi-
larly acted on by the force ; and will dissimilarly react on
it. Hence the permanently effective incident force, when
wholly or partially transformed into mechanical motion

seghegation. 4C3

of the units, will produce like motions in units that are
alike, and unlike motions in units that are unlike. If
then, in an aggregate containing two or more orders of mixed
units, those of the same order will be moved in the same way,
and in a way that differs from that in which units of other
orders are moved, the respective orders must segregate. A
group of like things on \N'hich are impressed motions that are
alike in amount and direction, must be transferred as a group
to another place, and if they are. mingled with some group of
other things, on which the motions impressed are like each
other, but unlike those of the first group in amount or di-
rection or both, these other things must be transferred as a
group to some other place — the mixed units must undergo a
simultanoous selection and separation.

In further elucidation of this process, it will bo well hero
to set down a few instances in which wo may sec that, other
things equal, the definiteness of the separation is in propor-
tion to the definiteness of the difference between the units.
Take a handful of any pounded substance, containing frag-
ments of all sizes; and let it fall to the ground while a
gentle breeze is blowing. The large fragments will be
collected together on the ground almost immediately under
the hand ; somewhat smaller fragments will be carried a
little to the leeward ; still smaller ones a little further ; and
those minute particles which we call dust, will be drifted a
long way before they reach the earth : that is, the integration
is indefinite where the difference among the fragments is
indefinite, though the divergence is greatest where tho
difference is greatest. If, again, the liandful be made up of
quite distinct orders of units — as pebbles, coarse sand, and
dust — these will, under like conditions, be segregated witli
comparative definiteness : the pebbles will drop almost verti-
cally ; the sand will fall in an inclined direction, and deposit
itself within a tolerably circumscribed space beyond the
pebbles ; while the dust will be blown almost horizontally to
a great distance. A case in which another kind of force

464 SEGEEQATION.

comes into play, will still better illustrate this truth.
Through, a mixed aggregate of soluble and insoluble sub-
stances, let water slowly percolate. There will in the first
place be a distinct parting of the substances that are the most
widely contrasted in their relations to the acting forces : the
soluble will be carried away ; the insoluble will remain be-
hind. Further, some separation, though a less definite one,
will be effected among the soluble substances ; since the first
part of the current will remove the most soluble substances in
the largest amounts, and after these have been all dissolved,
the current will still continue to bring out the remaining less
soluble substances. Even the undissolved matters will have
simultaneously undergone a certain segregation ; for the
percolating fluid will carry down the minute fragments from
among the large ones, and will deposit those of small specific
gravity in one place, and those of great specific gravity in
another. To complete the elucidation we must glance

at the obverse fact ; namely, that mixed units which differ but
slightly, are moved in but slightly-different ways by incident
forces, and can therefore be separated only by such adjust-
ments of the incident forces as allow slight differences to be-
come appreciable factors in the result. This truth is made
manifest by antithesis in the instances just given ; but it may
be made much more manifest by a few such instances as
those which chemical analysis supplies in abundance. The
parting of alcohol from water by distillation is a good one.
Here we have atoms consisting of oxygen and hydrogen,
mingled with atoms consisting of oxygen, hydrogen, and
carbon. The two orders of atoms have a considerable
similarity of nature : they similarly maintain a fluid form at
ordinary temperatures ; they similarly become gaseous more
and more rapidly as the temperature is raised ; and they boil
at points not very far apart. Now this comparative likeness
of the atoms is accompanied by difficulty in segregating
them. If the mixed fluid is unduly heated, much water dis-
tils over with the alcohol : it is only within a narrow range

BEGEEGATION. 405

of temperature, tliat the one set of atoms are driven off rather
than the others ; and even then not a few of the others ac-
company them; The most interesting and instructivo
example, however, is furnished by certain phenomena of
crystallization. When several salts that have little analogy
• »f constitution, are dissolved in the same body of water, they
are separated without much trouble, by crystallization : their
respective units moved towards each other, as physicists sup-
pose, by polar forces, segregate into crystals of their respect-
ive kinds. The crystals of each salt do, indeed, usually con-
tain certaia small amounts of the other salts present in the
solution — especially when the crystallization has been rapid ;
but from these other salts they are severally freed by repeated
re-solutions and crystallizations. Mark now, however, that the
reverse is the case when the salts contained in the same body
of water are chemically homologous. The nitrates of baryta
and lead, or the sulphates of zinc, soda, and magnesia, unite
in the same crystals ; nor will they crystallize separately if
these crystals be dissolved afresh, and afresh crystallized,
even with great care. On seeking the cause of this anomaly.,
clicmists found that such salts were isomorphous — that their
atoms, though not chemically identical, were identical in the
proportions of acid, base, and water, composing them, and in
their crystalline forms ; whence it was inferred that their
atoms are nearly alike in structure. Thus is clearly illustrated
the truth, that units of unlike kinds are selected out and
separated with a readiness proportionate to the degree of
their unlikeness. In the first case we see that being dis-
similar in their forms, but similar in so far as they are
soluble in water of a certain temperature, the atoms segre-
gate, though imperfectly. In the second case we see that the
atoms, having not only the likeness implied by solubility in
the same menstruum, but also a great likeness of structure,
do not segregate — are sorted and parted from each other only
under quite special conditions, and then very incompletely.
That is, the incident force of mutual polarity impresses unliJ-e

466 SEGREGATION.

motions on the mixed units in proportion as they are unlike ;
and therefore, in proportion as they are unKke, tends to de-
posit them in separate places.

There is a converse cause of segregation, which it is Deed-
less here to treat of with equal fulness. If different units
acted on by the same force, must be differently moved ; so,
too, must units of the same kind be differently moved by
different forces. Supposing some group of units forming part
of a homogeneous aggregate, are unitedly exposed to a force
that is unlike in amount or direction to the force acting on
the rest of the aggregate ; then this group of units will
separate from the rest, provided that, of the force so acting
on it, there remains any portion not dissipated in molecular
vibrations, nor absorbed in producing molecular re- arrange-
ments. After all that has been said above, this proposition
needs no defence.

Before ending our preliminary exposition, a comple-
mentary truth must be specified ; namely, that mixed forces
are segregated by the reaction of uniform matters, just as
mixed matters are segregated by the action of uniform
forces. Of this truth a complete and sufiicient illustration
is furnished by the dispersion of refracted light. A beam
of light, made up of ethereal undulations of different orders,
is not uniformly deflected by a homogeneous refracting
body ; but the different orders of undulations it contains, are
deflected at different angles : the result being that these
different orders of undulations are separated and integrated,
and so produce what we know as the colours of the spectrum.
A segregation of another kind occurs when rays of light
traverse an obstructing medium. Those rays which consist
of comparatively short undulations, are absorbed before those
which consist of comparatively long ones ; and the red rays,
which consist of the longest undulations, alone penetrate
when the obstruction is very great. How, conversely, there
is produced a separation of like forces by the reaction of un-
fike matteia, is also made manifest by the phenomena of

6EGKEGATI0N. 407

refraction : since adjacent and parallel beams of light, fall-
ing on, and passing through, unlike substances, are made to
diverge.

§ IQL On the assumption of their nebular origin, stars and
planets exemplify that cause of material segregation last
assigned — the action of unlike forces on like units.

In a preceding chapter (§ 150) we saw that if matter
ever existed in a difPiised form, it could not continue uni-
formly distributed, but must break up into masses. It was
shown that in the absence of a perfect balance of mutual at-
tractions among atoms dispersed through unlimited space,
there must arise breaches of continuity throughout the ag-
gregate formed by them, and a concentration of it towards
centres of dominant attraction. Where any such, breach of
continuity occurs, and the atoms that were before adjacent
separate from each other; they do so in consequence of a
difference in the forces to which they are respectively sub-
ject. The atoms on the one side of the breach are exposed
to a certain surplus attraction in the direction in which they
begin to move ; and those on the other to a sur^jlus attrac-
tion in the opposite direction. That is, the adjacent groupsT
of like units are exposed to unlike resultant forces ; and ac-
cordingly separate and integrate.

The formation and detachment of a nebulous ring, illus-
trates the same general principle. To conclude, as Laplace
did, that the equatorial portion of a rotating nebulous
spheroid, will, during concentration, acquire a centrifugal
force sufficient to prevent it from following the rest of the
contracting mass, is to conclude that such, portions will
remain behind as are in common subject to a certain differ-
ential force. The line of division between the ring and
the spheroid, must be a line inside of which, the aggregative
force is greater than the force resisting aggregation ; and
outside of which the force resisting aggregation is greater
than the aggregative force. Hence the alleged process

iQS SEGREGATION.

conforms fco tlio law tliat among like units, exposed to unlike
forces, the similarly conditioned part from tlie dissimilarly
conditioned.

§ 1G5. Tliose geologic changes usually classed as aqueous,
display under numerous forms tlie segregation of unlike
units by a uniform incident force. On sea-shores, the waves
are ever sorting-out and separating the mixed materials
against which they break. From each mass of fallen cliff,
the rising and ebbing tide carries away all those particles
which are so small as to remain long suspended in the
water ; and, at some distance from shore, deposits them in
the shape of fine sediment. Large particles, sinking with
comparative rapidity, are accumulated into beds of sand
•near low water-mark. The coarse grit and small pebbles
collect together on the incline up which the breakers rush.
And on the top lie the larger stones and boulders. Still
more specific segregations may occasionally be observed.
Flat pebbles, produced by the breaking down of laminated
rock, are sometimes separately collected in one part of a
shingle bank. On this shore the deposit is wholly of mud ;
on that it is wholly of sand. Here we find a sheltered cove
filled with small pebbles almost of one size ; and there, in a
curved bay one end of which is more exposed than the other,
we see a progressive increase in the massiveness of the stones
as we walk from the less exposed to the more exposed end.
Trace the history of each geologic deposit, and we are
quickly led down to the fact, that mixed fragments of
matter, difiering in their sizes or weights, are, when ex-
posed to the momentum and friction of water, joined
with the attraction of the Earth, selected from each
other, and united into groups of comparatively like
fragments. And we see that, other things equal, the sepa-
ration is definite in proportion as the difierences of the units
are marked. After they have been formed, sedi-

mentary strata exhibit segregations of another kind. The

SEGREGATIOIT. 409

flinfcs and tlie nodules of iron pyrites tliat are found in clialk,
as well as tlie silicious concretions wHch. occasionally occur
in limestone^ can bo interpreted only as aggregations of
atoms of silex or sulpliuret of iron^ originally diffused almost
uniformly tlirougli the deposit, but gradually collected round
ccrtaincentreSj notwithstanding tlie solid or semi-solid state of
tlio surrounding matter. What is called bog iron-ore supplies
the conditions and the result in still more obvious correlation.
Among igneous changes we do not find so many examples
of the process described. AVhen distinguishing simple and
compound evolution, it was pointed out (§ 102) that an ex-
cessive quantity of contained molecular motion, prevents per-
manence in those secondary re-distributions which make evo-
lution compound. Nevertheless, geological phenomena of
this order are not barren of illustrations. Whcro the mixed
matters composing the Earth's crust have been raised to a
very high temperature, segregation habitually takes placo
as the temperature diminishes. Sundry of the substances
that escape in a gaseous form from volcanoes, sublime into
crystals on coming against cool surfaces; and solidifying as
these substances do, at different temperatures, they are de-
posited at different parts of the crevices through which they
are emitted together. The best illustration, however, is
furnished by the changes that occur during the slow cooling
of igneous rock. When, through one of the fractures from
time to time made in the solid shell wliich forms the Earth's
crust, a portion of the molten nucleus is extruded ; and when
this is cooled with comparative rapidity, through free radia-
tion and contact with cold masses; it forms a substance
known as trap or basalt — a substance that is uniform in
texture, though made up of various ingredients. But when,
not escaping through the superficial strata, such a portion of
the molten nucleus is slowly cooled, it becomes what wo
know as granite : the mingled particles of quartz, feldspar,
and mica, being kept for a long time in a fluid and semi-
liuid state — a, state of comparative mobility — ^undergo those

470 SEGREGATION.

ohanges of position wliicli the forces impresstd on them by
their fellow units necessitate. Having time in which to
generate the requisite motions of the atoms, the differential
forces arising from mutual polarity, segregate the quartz,
feldspar, and mica, into crystals. How completely this is de-
pendent on the long-continued agitation of the mixed par-
ticles, and consequent long-continued mobility by small dif-
ferential forces, is proved by the fact that in granite dykes,
the crystals in the centre of the mass, where the fluidity or
semi-fluidity continued for a longer time, are much larger
than those at the sides, where contact with the neighbour-
ing rock caused more rapid cooling and solidification.

§ 1G6. The actions going on throughout an organism are so
involved and subtle, that we cannot expect to identify the par-
ticular forces by which particular segregations are effected.
Among the few instances admitting of tolerably definite in-
terpretation, the best are those in which mechanical pressures
and tensions are the agencies at work. We shall discover
several on studying the bony frame of the higher animals.

The vertebral column of a man, is subject, as a whole, to
certain general strains — the weight of the body, together
with the reactions involved by all considerable muscular
efforts; and in conformity with this, it has become segregated
as a whole. At the same time, being exposed to different
forces in the course of those lateral bondings which the
movements necessitate, its parts retain a certain separateness.
And if we trace up the development of the vertebral column
from its primitive form of a cartilaginous cord in the lowest
fishes, we see that, throughout, it maintains an integration
corresponding to the unity of the incident forces, joined with
a division into segments corresponding to the variety of
the incident forces. Each segment, considered apart,

exemplifies the truth more simply. A vertebra is not a single
bone, but consists of a central mass with sundry append-
ages or processes; and in rudimentary types of vertebraB,

BEGEEGATION. 471

these appendages are quite separate from the central mass,
and, indeed, exist before it makes its appearance. But these
several independent bones, constituting a primitive spinal
segment, are subject to a certain aggregate of forces
which agree more than they differ : as the fulcrum to
a group of muscles habitually acting together, they per-
petually undergo certain reactions in common. And ac-
cordingly, we see that' in the course of development they
gradually coalesce. StiU clearer is the illustration

furnished by spinal segments that become fused together
where they are together exposed to some predominant strain.
The sacrum consists of a group of vertebrce firmly united.
In the ostrich and its congeners there are from seventeen to
twenty sacral vertebrae ; and besides being confluent with each
other, these are confluent with the iliac bones, which run on
each side of them. If now we assume these vertebras to have
been originally separate, as they still are in the embryo bird ;
and if we consider the mechanical conditions to which they
must in such case have been exposed ; we shall see that their
union results in th.e alleged way. For through these vertebra)
tlie entire weight of the body is transferred to the legs : the
legs support the pelvic arch ; the pelvic arcb supports the
sacrum ; and to the sacrum is articulated the rest of the
spine, with all the limbs and organs attached to it. Hence,
if separate, the sacral vertebrae must be held firmly together
by strongly-contracted muscles ; and must, by implication, be
prevented from partaking in those lateral movements which
the other vertebrae undergo — they must be subject to a com-
mon strain, while they are preserved from strains which
would affect them differently; and so they fulfil the condi-
tions under which segregation occurs. But the cases
in which cause and effect are brought into the most obvious
relation, are supplied by the limbs. The metacarpal bones
(those which in man support the palm of the hand) are separ-
ate from each other in the majority of mammalia : the separ-
ate actions of the toes entailing on them slight amounts of

472 SEGREGATION.

separate movements. * This is not so however in the ox-tribe
and the horse-tribe. In the ox-tribe, only the middle meta-
carpals (third and fourth) are developed ; and these, attain-
ing massive proportions, coalesce to form the cannon bone.
In the horse-tribe, the segregation is what we may distin-
guish as indirect : the second and fourth metacarpals arc
present only as rudiments united to the sides of the third,
while the third is immensely developed ; thus forming a
cannon bone which differs from that of the ox in being a
single cylinder, instead of two cylinders fused together.
The metatarsus in these quadrupeds exhibits parallel
changes. Now each of these metamorphoses occurs where
the different bones grouped together have no longer any
different functions, but retain only a common function. The
feet of oxen and horses are used solely for locomotion — are
not put like those of unguiculate mammals to purposes
which involve some relative movements of the metacarpals.
Thus there directly or indirectly results a single mass of bone
where the incident force is single. And for the inference
that these facts have a causal connexion, we find confirma-
tion throughout the entire class of birds; in the wings
and legs of which, like segregations are found under like
conditions. While this sheet is passing through the

press, a fact illustrating this general truth in a yet more
remarkable manner, has been mentioned to me by Prof.
Huxley ; who kindly allows me to make use of it while still
unpublished by him. The Glypiodon, an extinct mammal
found fossilized in South America, has long been known as a
large uncouth creature allied to the Armadillo, but having a
massive dermal armour consisting of polygonal plates closely
fitted together so as to make a vast box, inclosing the body
in such way as effectually to prevent it from being bent,
laterally or vertically, in the slightest degree.. This bony
box, which must have weighed several hundi-ed- weight, was
supported on the spinous processes of the vertebra), and on
the adjacent bones of the pelvic and thoracic arches. And

SEGEEQATION.

473

the significant fact now to be noted, is, tliat Lere, where the
trunk yertebrse were together exposed to the pressure of this
heavy dermal armour, at the same time that, by its rigidity,
they were preserved from all relative movements, the entire
series of them were united into one solid, continuous bone.

The formation and maintenance of a species, considered
as an assemblage of similar organisms, is interpretable in
an analogous way. "We have already seen that in so far as
the members of a species are subject to different sets of inci-
dent forces, they are differentiated, or divided into varieties.
And here it remains to add that in so far as they are subject
to hke sets of incident forces, they are segregated, or reduced
to, and kept in, the state of a uniform aggregate. For by the
process of " natural selection," there is a continual purifica-
tion of each species from those individuals which depart
from the common type in ways that unfit them for the con-
ditions of their existence. Consequently, there is a continual
leaving behind of those individuals which are in all respects
fit for the conditions of their existence ; and are therefore
very nearly alike. The circumstances to which any species
is exposed, being, as we before saw, an involved combination
of incident forces ; and the members of the species having
mixed with them some that differ more than usual from the
average structure required for meeting these forces ; it re-
sults that these forces are constantly separating such diver-
gent individuals from the rest, and so preserving the uni-
formity of the rest — keeping up its integrity as a species.
Just as the changing autumn leaves are picked out by the
wind from among the green ones around them, or just as,
to use Prof. Huxley's simile, the smaller fragments pass
through the sieve while the larger are kept back; so, the
uniform incidence of external forces affects the members of a
group of organisms similarly in proportion as they are similar,
and differently in proportion as they are different ; and thus is
ever segregating the like by parting the unlike from them.
Whether these separated members are killed off, as mostly

474 SEGEEQATION.

happens, or whether, as otherwise happens, they survive and
multiply into a distinct variety, in consequence of their
ntness to certain partially unlike conditions, matters not to
the argument. The one case conforms to the law, that the
unlike units of an aggregate are sorted into their kinds and
parted when uniformly subject to the same incident forces ;
and the other to the converse law, that the like units of an
aggregate are parted and separately grouped when subject to
different incident forces. And on consulting Mr. Darwin's
remarks on divergence of character, it will be seen that the
segregations thus caused tend ever to become more definite.

§ 167. Mental evolution under one of its leading aspects,
we found to consist in the formation of groups of like ob-
jects and like relations — a differentiation of the various
things originally confounded together in one assemblage,
and an integration of each separate order of things into a
separate group (§ 163). Here it remains to point out that
while unlikeness in the incident forces is the cause of such
differentiations, likeness in the incident forces is the cause of
such integrations. For what is the process through which
classifications are established ? At first, in common with
the uninitiated, the botanist recognizes only such conven-
tional divisions as those which agriculture has established —
distinguishes a few vegetables and cereals, and groups the
rest together into the one miscellaneous aggregate of wild
plants. How do these wild plants become grouped in his mind
into orders, genera, and species ? Each plant he examines
yields him a certain complex impression. Every now and
then he picks up a plant like one before seen ; and the re-
cognition of it is the production in him of a like connected
group of sensations, by a like connected group of attributes.
That is to say, there is produced throughout the nerves con-
cerned, a combined set of changes, similar to a combined set
of changes before produced. Considered analytically, each
such combined set of changes is a combined set of moleciilar

SEQEEaATION. 475

modifications wrought in the affected part of the organism.
On every repetition of the impression, a like combined set of
molecular modifications is superposed on the previous ones,
and makes them greater : thus generating an internal idea
corresponding to these similar external objects. Meanwhile,
another kind of plant produces in the brain of the botanist
another set of combined changes or molecular modifications
— a set which does not agree with and deepen the one we
have been considering, but disagrees with it ; and by repeti-
tion of such there is generated a difierent idea answering to
a different species. "What now is the nature of this

process expressed in general terms ? On the one hand there
are the like and unlike things from which severally emanate
the groups of forces by which we perceive them. On the
other hand, there are the organs of sense and percipient
centres, through which, in the course of observation, these
groups of forces pass. In passing through these organs of
sense and percipient centres, the like groups of forces are se-
gregated, or separated from the unlike groups of forces ; and
each such series of groups of forces, parted in this way from
others^ answering to an external genus or species, constitutes
a state of consciousness which we call our idea of the genus
or species. We before saw that as well as a separation of
mixed matters by the same force, there is a separation of
mixed forces by the same matter ; and here we may further
see that the unlike forces so separated, work unlike struct-
ural changes in the aggregate that separates them — struct-
ural changes each of which thus represents, and is equivalent
to, the integrated series of motions that has produced it.

By a parallel process, the connexions of co-existence and
sequence among impressions, become sorted into kinds and
grouped simultaneously with the impressions themselves.
When two phenomena that have been experienced in a
given order, are repeated in the same order, those nerves
which before were affected by the transition are again af-
fected ; and such molecular modification as they received

470 SEGREGATION.

from tlie first motion propagated through them, is increased
by this second motion along the same route. Each such mo-
tion works a structural alteration, which, in conformity with
the general law Bet forth in Chapter IX., involves a diminu-
tion of the resistance to all such motions that afterwards
occur. The segregation of these successive motions (or more
stiictly, the permanently effective portions of them expended
in overcoming resistance) thus becomes the cause of, and the
measure of, the mental connexion between the impressions
which the phenomena produce. Meanwhile, phenomena that
are recognized as different from these, being phenomena that
therefore affect different nervous elements, will have their
connexions severally represented by motions along othei
routes ; and along each of these other routes, the nervous dis-
charges will severally take place with a readiness proportion-
ate to the frequency with which experience repeats the con-
nexion of phenomena. The classification of relations must
hence go on pari passu with the classification of the related
things. In common with the mixed sensations received
from the external world, the mixed relations it presents,
cannot be impressed on the organism without more or less
segregation of them resulting. And through this continu-
ous sorting and grouping together of changes or motions,
which constitutes nervous function, there is gradually
wrought that sorting and grouping together of matter,
which constitutes nervous structure.

§ 128. In social evolution, the collecting together of the
like and the separation of the unlike, by incident forces, is
primarily displayed in the same manner as we saw it to be
among groups of inferior creatures. The human races tend
to differentiate and integrate, as do raees of other living
forms. Of the forces which effect and maintain the

segregations of mankind, may first be named those external
ones which we class as physical conditions. The climate and
food that are favourable to an indigenous people, are more or

SEGEEGATION. 477

»ess dstrimental to a people of different bodily constitution,
coming from a remote part of the Earth. In tropical re-
gions the northern races cannot permanently exist : if not
killed off in the first generation, they are so in the second ;
and, as in India, can maintain their footing only by the
artificial process of continuous immigration and emigratioUc
That is to say, the external forces acting equally on the in-
habitants of a given locality, tend to expel all who are not
of a certain type ; and so to keep up the integration of those
who are of that type. Though elsewhere, as among Euro-
pean nations, we see a certain amount of permanent inter-
mixture, otherwise brought about, we still see that this takes
place between races of not very different types, that are
naturalized to not very different conditions. The

other forces conspiring to produce these national segrega-
tions, are those mental ones which show themselves in the
affinities of men for others like themselves. Emigrants
usually desire to get back among their own people ; and
where their desire does not take effect, it is only because the
restraining ties are too great. Units of one society who
are obliged to reside in another, very generally form
colonies in the midst of that other — small societies of their
own. Races which have been artificially severed, sliow
strong tendencies to re-unite. Now though these segrega-
tions that result from the mutual affinities of kindred men ,
do not seem interpretable as illustrations of the general
principle above enunciated, they really are thus interpret*
able. When treating of the direction of motion {§ 80),
it was shown that the actions performed by men for the
satisfaction of their wants, were always motions along lines
of least resistance. The feelings characterizing a member
of a given race, are feelings which get complete satisfaction
only among other members of that race — a satisfaction
partly deriv^ed from sympathy with those having like feel-
ings, but mainly derived from the adapted social conditions
which grow up where such feelings prevail. "When, there-

478 SEGREGATION.

fore, a citizen of any nation is, as we see, attracted towaids
others of his nation, tlie rationale is, that certain agencies
which we call desires, move him in the direction of least
resistance. Human motions, like all other motions, being
determined by the distribution of forces, it follows that
such segregations of races as are not produced by incident
external forces, are produced by forces which the units of
the races exercise on each other.

During the development of each society, we see analogous
segregations caused in analogous ways. A few of them re-
sult from minor natural affinities ; but those most important
ones which constitute political and industrial organization,
result from the union of men in whom similarities have been
produced by education— *using education in its widest sense,
as comprehending all processes by which citizens are mould
ed to special functions. Men brought up to bodily labour,
are men who have had wrought in them a certain lilj:eness — a
likeness which, in respect of their powers of action, obscures
and subordinates their natural differences. Those trained to
brain-work, have acquired a certain other community of
character which makes them, as social units, more like each
other than like those trained to manual occupations. And
there arise class-segregations answering to these super-
induced likenesses. Much more definite segregations take
place among the much more definitely assimilated members
of any class who are brought up to the same calling. Even
where the necessities of their work forbid concentration in one
locality, as among artizans happens with masons and brick-
layers, and among traders happens with the retail distribut-
ors, and among professionals happens with the medical
men ; there are not wanting Operative Builders Unions, and
Grocers Societies, and Medical Associations, to show that
these artificially- assimilated citizens become integrated as
much as the conditions permit. And where, as among the
manufacturing classes, the functions discharged do not re-
quire the dispersion of the citizens thus artificially assimi-

BEQREGATION. .. 479

lated, there is a progressive aggregation of them in special
localities ; and a consequent increase in the definiteness of
the industrial divisions. If now we seek the causes

of these segregations, considered as results of force and mo-
tion, we find ourselves brought to the same general principle
as before. This likeness generated in any class or sub-
class by training, is an aptitude acquired by its members
for satisfying their wants in like ways. That is, the
occupation to which each man has been brought up, has be-
come to him, in common with those similarly brought up, a
line of least resistance. Hence under that pressure which
determines aU men to activity, these similarly-modified
social units are similarly affected, and tend to take similar
courses. If then there be any locality which, either by its
physical peculiarities or by peculiarities wrought on it
during social evolution, is rendered a place where a certain
kind of industrial action meets with less resistance than else-
where ; it follows from the law of direction of motion that
those social units who have been moulded to this kind of
industrial action, wiU move towards this place, or become
integrated there. If, for instance, the proximity of coal and
iron mines to a navigable river, gives to Glasgow a certain
advantage in the building of iron ships — if the total labour
required to produce the same vessel, and get its equivalent
in food and clothing, is less there than elsewhere; a con-
centration of iron-ship builders is produced at Glasgow:
either by keeping there the population born to iron-ship
building ; or by- immigration of those elsewhere engaged in
it; or by both — a concentration that would be still more
marked did not other districts offer counter-balancing facili-
ties. The principle equally holds where the occupation is
mercantile instead of manufacturing. Stock-brokers cluster
together in the city, because the amount of effort to bo
severally gone through by them in discharging their func-
tions, and obtaining their profits, is less there than in other
localities. A place of exchange having once been estab-
Hahed, becomes a place where the resistance to be overcome

480 SEGEEGATIOK.

by eacli is less than elsewhere ; and the pursuit of the com*se
of least resistance by each, involves their aggregation around
this place.

Of course, with units so complicated as those which consti-
tute a society, and with forces so involved as those which
move them, the i*esulting selections and separations must
be far more entangled, or far less definite, than those we
have hitherto considered. But though there may be pointed
out many anomalies which at first sight seem inconsistent
with the alleged law, a closer study shows that they are but
subtler illustrations of it. For men's likenesses being of
various kinds, lead to various orders of segregation. There
are likenesses of disposition, likenesses of taste, likenesses
produced by intellectual culture, likenesses that result from
class-training, likenesses of political feeling; and it needs
but to glance round at the caste-divisions, the associations
for philanthropic, scientific, and artistic purposes, the reli-
gious parties and social cliques ; to see that some species of
likeness among the component members of each body
determines their union. Now the difierent segregative pro-
cesses by traversing one another, and often by their indirect
antagonism, more or less obscure one another's effects ; and
prevent any one differentiated class from completely inte-
grating. Hence the anomalies referred to. But if this
cause of incompleteness be duly borne in mind, social segre-
gations will be seen to conform entirely to the same principle
as all other segregations. Analysis will show that either by
external incident forces, or by what we may in a sense
regard as mutual polarity, there are ever being produced in
society segregations of those units which have either a
natural hkeness or a likeness generated by training.

§ 169. Can the general truth thus variously illustrated be
deduced from the persistence of force, in common, with fore-
going ones ? Probably tho exposition at the beginning of
the chapter will have led most readers to conclude that it
can be so deduced.

SEGEEGATION. 431

The abstract propositions involved are these : — First, that
like units, subject to a uniform force capable of producing
motion in them, will be moved to like degrees in the same
direction. Second, that like units if exposed to unlike forces
capable of producing motion in them, will be differently
moved — moved either in different directions or to different
degrees in the same direction. Third, that unlike units if
acted on by a uniform force capable of producing motion in
them, will be differently moved — moved either in different
directions or to different degrees in the same direction.
Fom'th, that the incident forces -themselves must be affected
in analogous ways : like forces falling on like units must be
Bimilarly modified by the conflict ; unlike forces falling on
like units must be dissimilarly modified ; and like forces fall-
ing on unlike units must be dissimilarly modified. These
propositions admit of reduction to a still more abstract foi-m.
TTiey all of them amount to this : — that in the actions and
reactions of force and matter, an unlikeness in either of
the factors necessitates an unlikeness in the effects ; and that
in the absence of unlikeness in either of the factors the
effects must be alike.

"When thus generalized, the immediate dependence of these
propositions on the persistence of force, becomes obvious.
Any two forces that are not alike, are forces which differ
either in their amoimts or directions or both ; and by wha
mathematicians call the resolution of forces, it may be proved
that this difference is constituted by the presence in the one
of some force not present in the other. Similarly, any two
units or portions of matter which are unlike in size, weight,
form, or other attribute, can be known by us as unlike only
through some unlikeness in the forces they impress on our
conciousness ; and hence this unlikeness also, is constituted by
the presence in the one of some force or forces not present ii..
the other. Such being tjie common nature of these unHke-
nesses, what is the inevitable corollary ? Any unlikeness in
the incident forces, where the things acted on are alike, must

generate a difference between the effects ; since otherwise,

482 SEGREGATION.

the differential force produces no effect, and force is not per-
sistent. Any unlikeness in the things acted on, where the
incident forces are alike, must generate a difference between
the effects ; since otherwise, the differential force whereby
these things are made unlikcj produces no effect, and force is
not persistent. While, conversely, if the forces acting and
the things acted on, are alike, the effects must be alike ;
since otherwise, a differential effect can be produced without
a differential cause, and force is not persistent.

Thus these general truths being necessary implications of
the persistence of force, all the re-distributions above traced
out as characterizing Evolution in its various phases, are also
implications of the persistence of force. Such portions of
the permanently effective forces acting on any aggregate, as
produce sensible motions in its parts, cannot but work the
segregations which we see take place. If of the mixed units
making up such aggregate, those of the same kind have like
motions impressed on them by a uniform force, while units of
another kind are moved by this uniform force in ways more
or less imlike the ways in which those of the first kind are
moved, the two kinds must separate and integrate. If the
units are alike and the forces unlike, a division of the differ-
ently affected units is equally necessitated. Thus there in-
evitably arises the demarcated grouping which we every-
where see. By virtue of this segregation that grows ever more
decided while there remains any possibility of increasing it,
the change from uniformity to multiformity is accompanied
by a change from indistinctness in the relations of parts to
distinctness in the relations of parts. As we before saw that
the transformation of the homogeneous into the heterogene-
ous is inferable from that ultimate truth which transcends
proof ; so we here see, that from this same truth is inferable
the transformation of an indefinite homogeneity into a dcfi-
nito heterogeneity.

CHAPTER XXn.

EQUILIBRATION.

§ 170. And now towards what do these changes tendP
Will they go on for ever ? or will there be an end to them ?
Can things increase in heterogeneity through all future time ?
or must there be a degree which the differentiation and in-
tegration of Matter and Motion cannot pass ? Is it possible
for this universal metamorphosis to proceed in the same gene-
ral course indefinitely ? or does it work towards some ulti-
mate state, admitting no further modification of like kind ?
The last of these alternative conclusions is that to which we
are inevitably driven. "Whether we watch concrete processes,
or whether we consider the question in the abstract, we are
alike taught that Evolution has an impassable limit.

The re-distributions of matter that go on around us, are
ever being brought to conclusions by the dissipation of the
motions which effect them. The rolling stone parts with
portions of its momentum to the things it strikes, and finally
comes to rest ; as do also, in like manner, the various things
it has struck. Descending from the clouds and trickling
over the Earth's surface till it gathers into brooks and rivers,
water, still running towards a lower level, is at last arrested
by the resistance of other water that has reached the lowest
level. In the lake or sea thus formed, every agitation raised
by a wind or the immersion of a solid body, propagates itself
around in waves that diminish as they widen, and gradually

484 EQUILIBRATION.

become lost to observation in motions communicated to tlie
atmosphere and the matter on the shores. The impulse
given by a player to the harp-string, is transformed through
its vibrations into aerial pulses ; and these, spreading on all
sides, and weakening as they spread, soon cease to be per-
ceptible ; and finally die away in generating thermal undula-
tions that radiate into space. Equally in the cinder that falls
out of the fire, and -in the vast masses of molten lava ejected
by a volcano, we see that the molecular agitation known to
us as heat, disperses itself by radiation ; so that however
great its amount, it inevitably sinks at last to the same degree
as that existing in surrounding bodies. And if the actions
observed be electrical or chemical, we still find that they work
themselves out in producing sensible or insensible movements,
that are dissipated as before ; until quiescence is eventually
reached. The proximate rationale of the process

exhibited under these several forms, lies in . the fact
dwelt on when treating of the Multiplication of Efiects, that
motions are ever being decomposed into divergent motions,
and these into re-divergent motions. The rolling stone
sends off the stones it hits in directions differing more or less
from its own ; and they do the like with the things they hit.
Move water or air, and the movement is quickly resolved into
radiating movements. The heat produced by pressure in a
given direction, diffuses itself by undulations in all directions ;
and so do the light and electricity similarly generated.
That ia to say, these motions undergo division and subdivi-
sion ; and by continuance of this process without limit, they
are, though never lost, gradually reduced to insensible mo-
tions.

In all cases then, there is a progress toward equilibration.
That universal co- existence of antagonist forces which, as we
before saw, necessitates the universality of rhythm, and
which, as we before saw, necessitates the decomposition of
every force into divergent forces, at the same time necessi-
tates the ultimate establishment of a balance. Every motion

EQUILIBRATION. 485

being motion under resistance, is continually suffering de-
ductions ; and tliese unceasing deductions finally result in the
cessation of the motion.

The general truth thus illustrated under its simplest
aspect, we must now look at under those more complex
ispects it usually presents throughout ^Nature. In nearly all
3ases, the motion of an aggregate is compound ; and the equi-
libration of each of its components, being carried on inde-
pendently, does not affect the rest. The ship's bell that has
ceased to vibrate, still continues those vertical and lateral
oscillations caused by the ocean-swell. The water of the
smooth stream on whose surface have died away the undu-
lations caused by the rising fish, moves as fast as before
onward to the sea. The arrested bullet travels with
undiminished speed round the Earth's axis. And were the
rotation of the Earth destroyed, there would not be implied
any diminution of the Earth's movement with respect to the
Sun and other external bodies. So that in every case, what
we regard as equilibration is a disappearance of some one or
more of the many movements which a body possesses, while
its other movements continue as before. That this

process may be duly realized and the state of things towards
which it tends fully understood, it will be well here to cite a
case in which we may watch this successive equilibration of
combined movements more completely than we can do in
those above instanced. Our end wiU best be served, not by
the most imposing, but by the most familiar example. Let
us take that of the spinning top. When the string which
has been wrapped round a top's axis is violently drawn off,
and the top faUs on to the table, it usually happens that be-
sides the rapid rotation, two other movements are given to it.
A slight horizontal momentum, unavoidably impressed on it
when leaving the handle, carries it away bodily from the
place on which it drops ; and in consequence of its axis being
more or less inclined, it falls into a certain oscilla-
tion, described by the expressive though inelegant word —

486 EQUILIBRATION.

" wabbling." These two subordinate motions, variable in
their proportions to each other and to the chief motion, are
commonly soon brought to a close by separate processes of
equilibration. The momentum which carries the top bodily
along the table, resisted somewhat by the air, but mainly by
the irregularities of the surface, shortly disappears ; and the
top thereafter continues to spin on one spot. Meanwhile, in
consequence of that opposition which the axial momentum of
a rotating body makes to any change in the plane of rotation,
(so beautifully exhibited by the gyroscope,) the " wabbling"
diminishes; and like the other is quickly ended. These
minor motions having been dissipated, the rotatory motion,
interfered with only by atmospheric resistance and the fric-
tion of the pivot, continues some time with such uniformity
that the top appears stationary : there being thus temporarily
established a condition which the French mathematicians
have termed equilibrium mobile. It is true that when the
axial velocity sinks below a certain point, new motions com-
mence, and increase till the top falls ; but these are merely
incidental to a case in which the centre of gravity is above
the point of support. Were the top, having an axis of
steel, to be suspended from a surface adequately magnetized,
all the phenomena described would be displayed, and the
moving equilibrium having been once arrived at, would con-
tinue until the top became motionless, without any further
change of position. Now the facts which it behoves

us here to observe, are these. First, that the various motions
which an aggregate possesses are separately equilibrated:
those which are smallest, or which meet with the greatest
resistance, or both, disappearing first ; and leaving at last,
that which is greatest, or meets with least resistance, or both.
Second, that when the aggregate has a movement of its part?
with respect to each other, which encounters but little external
resistance, there is apt to be established an equilibrium
mobile. Third, that this moving equilibrimn eventually
lapses into complete equilibrium.

EQUILIBRATION 487

Fully to comprelieiid the process of equilibration, is not
easy ; since we have simultaneously to contemplate various
phases of it. The best course will be to glance separately at
what we may conveniently regard as its four different
orders. The first order includes the comparatively

simple motions, as those of projectiles, which are not pro-
longed enough to exhibit their rhj^thmical character ; but
which, being quickly divided and subdivided into motions
communicated to other portions of matter, are presently dis-
sipated in the rhythm of ethereal imdulations. In
the second order, comprehending the various kinds of vi-
bration or oscillation as usually witnessed, the motion is used
up in generating a tension which, having become equal to it or
momentarily equilibrated with it, thereupon produces a mo-
tion in the opposite direction, that is subsequently equili-
brated in like manner : thus causing a visible rhythm, that
is, however, soon lost in in\isible rhythms. The third
order of equilibration, not hitherto noticed, obtains in those
aggregates which continually receive as much motion as they
expend. The steam engine (and especially that kind which
feeds its own furnace and boiler) supplies an example. Here
the force from moment to moment dissipated in overcoming
the resistance of the machinery driven, is from moment to
moment re-placed from the fuel; and the balance of the
two is maintained by a raising or lowering of the expenditure
according to the variation of the supply : each increase or
decrease in the quantity of steam, resulting in a rise or fall
of the engine's movement, such as brings it to a balance with
the increased or decreased resistance. This, which we may
fitly call the dependent moving equilibrium, should be
specially noted ; since it is one that we shall commonly meet
with throughout various phases of Evolution. The
equilibration to be distinguished as of the fourth order, is the
Independent or perfect moving equilibrium. This we see
illustrated in the rhythmical motions of the Solar System ;
which, being resisted only by a medium of inappreciabli

488

EQUILIBRATION.

density, undergo no sensible diminution in sucli periods of
time as we can measure.

All these kinds of oquilibration may, however, from the
highest point of view, be regarded as different modes of one
kind. For in every case the balance arrived at is relative,
and not absolute — is a cessation of the motion of some par-
ticular body in relation to a certain point or points, in-
volving neither the disappearance of the relative motion lost,
which is simply transformed into other motions, nor a dimi-
nution of the body's motions with respect to other points.
Thus understanding equilibration, it manifestly includes that
equilihrium mohihy which at first sight seems of another
nature. For any system of bodies exhibiting, like those of
the Solar Sj^stem, a combination of balanced rhythms, has
this peculiarity ; — that though the constituents of the system
have relative movements, the system as a whole has no
movement. The centre of gravity of the entire group re-
mains fixed. Whatever quantity of motion any member
of it has in any direction, is from moment to moment
counter-balanced by an equivalent motion in some other
part of the group in an opposite direction; and so the
aggregate matter of the group is in a state of rest. "Whence
it follows that the arrival at a state of moving equilibrium,
is the disappearance of some movement which the ag-
gregate had in relation to external things, and a con-
tinuance of those movements only which the different parts
of the aggregate have in relation to each other. Thus
generalizing the process, it becomes clear that all forms of
equilibration are intrinsically the same ; since in every
aggregate, it is the centre of gravity only that loses its
motion : the constituents always retaining some motion with
respect to each other — the motion of molecules if none else.
I ] very equilibrium commonly regarded as absolute, is in one
sense a moving equilibrium ; because along with a motion-
less state of the whole there is always some relative move-
ment of its insensible parts. And^ conversely, every moving

EQUILIBRATION. 48i^

eqnilibrmm may be in one sense regarded as absolute ; be-
cause tbe relative movements of its sensible parts are accom-
panied by a motionless state of tbe wliole.

Something has still to be added before closing these
some wbat ■ too elaborate preliminaries. The reader must
now especially note two leading truths brought out by the
foregoing exposition : the one concerning the ultimate, or
rather the penultimate, state of motion which the processes de-
scribed tend to bring about ; the other concerning the concom-
itant distribution of matter. This penultimate state
of motion is the moving equilibrium ; which, as we have seen,
tends to arise in an aggregate having compound motions, as a
transitional state on the way towards complete equilibrium.
Throughout Evolution of all kinds, there is a continual ap-
proximation to, and more or less complete maintenance of, this
moving equilibrium. As in the Solar System there has been
established an indepcTident moving equilibrium — an equili-
brium such that the relative motions of the constituent parts
are continually so counter-balanced by opposite motions,
that the mean state of the whole aggregate never varies ; so
is it, though in a less distinct manner, with each form of de-
pendent moving equilibrium. The state of things exhibited
in the cycles of terrestrial changes, in the balanced functions
of organic bodies that have reached their adult forms, and in
the acting and re-acting processes of fully- developed socie-
ties, is similarly one characterized by compensating oscilla-
tions. The involved combination of rhythms seen in each
of these cases, has an average condition which remains prac-
tically constant during the deviations ever taking place on
opposite sides of it. And the fact which we have here par-
ticularly to observe, is, that as a corollary from the general
law of equilibration above set- forth, the evolution of every
aggregate must go on until this equilibrium mobile is estab
ILshed; since, as we have seen, an excess of force which
the aggregate possesses in any direction, must eventually
bo expended in overcoming resistances to change in that

490 EQUILIBRATION.

direction : leaving beliind only those movements vrhich
compensate each other, and so form a moving equili*
brium. Respecting the structural state simultane-

ously reached, it must obviously be one presenting an ar-
rangement of forces that counterbalance all the forces to
which the aggregate is subject. So long as there remains a
residual force in any direction — ^be it excess of a force exer-
cised by the aggregate on its environment, or of a force
exercised by its environment -on the aggregate, equilibrium
does not exist ; and therefore the re- distribution of matter
must continue. "Whence it follows that the limit of hetero-
geneity towards which every aggregate progresses, is the
formation of as many specializations and combinations of
parts, as there are specialized and combined forces to be met.

§ ni. Those successively changed forms which, if the
nebular hypothesis be granted, must have arisen during
:he evolution of the Solar System, were so many transitional
kinds of moving equilibrium ; severally giving place to more
permanent kinds on the way towards complete equilibration.
Thus the assumption of an oblate spheroidal figure by con-
densing nebulous matter, was the assumption of a temporary
and partial moving equilibrium among the component parts
—a moving equilibrium that must have slowly grown
more settled, as local conflicting movements were dis-
sipated. In the formation and detachment of the
nebulous rings, which, according to this hypothesis, from time
to time took place, we have instances of progressive equili-
bration ending in the establishment of a complete moving
equilibrium. For the genesis of each such ring, implies a
perfect balancing of that aggregative force which the
whole spheroid exercises on its equatorial portion, by that
centrifugal force which the equatorial portion has acquired
during previous concentration : so long as these two forces
are not equal, the equatorial portion follows the contracting
mass • but as soon as the second force has increased up to an

EQUILIBRATION. 491

equality with the first, the equatorial portion can follow no
further, and remains behind. While, however, the resulting
ring, regarded as a whole connected by forces with external
wholes, has reached a state of moving equilibrium ; its parts
are not balanced with respect to each other. As we
before saw (§ 150) the probabilities against the mainte-
nance of an annular form by nebulous matter, are immense :
from the instability of the homogeneous, it is inferrable that
nebulous matter so distributed must break up into portions ;
and eventually concentrate into a single mass. That is to
say, the ring must progress towards a moving equilibrium
of a more complete kind, during the dissipation of that
motion which maintained its particles in a diffused form :
leaving at length a planetary bod}^, attended perhaps by a
group of minor bodies, severally having residuary relative
motions that are no longer resisted by sensible media ; and
there is thus constituted an equilibrium mobile that is all but
absolutely perfect.*

Hypothesis aside, the principle of equilibration is still
perpetually illustrated in those minor changes of state which
the Solar System is undergoing. Each planet, satellite,
and comet, exhibits to us at its aphelion a momentary equiK-

♦ Sir David Brewster has recently been citing with approyal, a calculation
by M. Babinet, to the effect that on the hypothesis of nebular genesis, the
matter of the Sun, when it filled the Earth's orbit, must have taken 3181 yeara
to rotate ; and that therefore the hypothesis cannot be true. This calculation of
M. Babinet may pair-off with that of M, Comte, who, contrariwise, made the
time of this rotation agree very nearly with the Earth's period of revolution
round the Sun ; for if ISf. Comte's calculation involved a peiitio principii, that of
M. Babinet is manifestly based on two assumptions, both of which are gratuitous,
and one of them totally inconsistent with the doctrine to be tested. lie has evi-
dently proceeded on the current supposition respecting the Sun's internal density,
which is not proved, and from which there are reasons for dissenting; and
he has evidently taken for granted that all parts of the nebulous spheroid, when it
filled the Earth's orbit, had the same angular velocity ; whereas if (as is implied
in the nebular hypothesis, rationally understood) this spheroid resulted from the
concentration of far more widely-diffused matter, the angular velocity of ita
equatorial portion vould obviously be immensely greater than that of its central
portion.

192 EQUILIBRATION.

brium between tbat force wbich urges it further away from
its primary, and that force wliicTi retards its retreat; since
tlie retreat goes on until the last of tbese forces exactly
counterpoises the first. In like manner at perihelion a con-
verse equilibrium is momentarily established. The varia-
tion of each orbit in size, in eccentricity, and in the position
of its plane, has similarly a limit at which the forces pro-
ducing change in the one direction, are equalled by those
antagonizing it ; and an opposite limit at which an opposite
arrest takes place. Meanwhile, each of these simple perturb-
ations, as well as each of the complex ones resulting from
their combination, exhibits, besides the temporary equilibra-
tion at each of its extremes, a certain general equilibra-
tion of compensating deviations on either side of a mean
state. That the moving equilibrium thus constituted,

tends, in the course of indefinite time, to lapse into a complete
equilibrium, by the gradual decrease of planetary motions
and eventual integration of all the separate masses com-
posing the Solar System, is a belief suggested by certain
observed cometary retardations, and entertained by some of
high authority. The received opinion that the appreciable
diminution in the period of Encke's comet, implies a loss of mo-
mentum caused by resistance of the ethereal medium, commits
astronomers who hold it, to the conclusion that this same re-
sistance must cause a loss of planetary motions — a loss which,
infinitesimal though it may be in such periods as we can
measure, will, if indefinitely continued, bring these motions
to a close. Even should there be, as Sir John Herschel sug-
orests, a rotation of the ethereal medium in the same direction
with the planets, this arrest, though immensely postponed,
would not be absolutely prevented. Such an eventuality,
however, must in any case be so inconceivably remote as
to have no other than a speculative interest for us. It is
referred to here, simply as illustrating the still-continued
tendency towards complete equilibrium, through the still-

EQUILIBRATION. 493

Continued dissipation of sensible motion, or transformation of
it into insensible motion.

But there is another species of equilibration going on in
the Solar System, with which we are more nearly concerned —
the equilibration of that molecular motion known as heat.
The tacit assumption hitherto current, that the Sun can con-
tinue to give off an undiminished amount of light and heat
through all future time, is fast being abandoned. Involv-
ing as it doesj under a disguise, the conception of power pro-
duced out of nothing, it is of the same order as the belief that
misleads perpetual-motion schemers. The spreading recog-
nition of the truth that force is persistent, and that conse-
quently whatever force is manifested under one shape must
previously have existed under another shape, is carrying with
it a recognition of the truth that the force known to us ir.
solar radiations, is the changed form of some other force of
which the Sun is the seat ; and that by the gradual dissipa-
tion of these radiations into space, this other force is being
slowly exhausted. The aggregative force by which the Sun's
substance is dra^m to his centre of gravity, is the only one
which established physical laws warrant us in suspecting to be
the correlate of the forces thus emanating from him : the only
source of a known kind that can be assigned for the insensible
motions constituting solar light and heat, is the sensible motrryri
which disappears during the progressing concentration of the
Sun's substance. AVe before saw it to be a corollary from the
nebular hypothesis, that there is such a progressing concentra-
tion of the Sun's substance. And here remains to be added the
further corollary, that just as in the case of the smaller mem-
bers of the Solar System, the heat generated by concentration,
long ago in great part radiatedinto space, has left only a central
residue that now escapes but slowly ; so in the case of that im-
mensely larger mass forming the Sun, the immensely greater
quantity of heat generated and stiU in process of rapid diffusion,
must, as the concentration approaches its limit, diminish in

4:94 EQUILIBRATION.

amount, and eventually leave only an inappreciable intemul
remnant. With or without the accompaniment of

that hypothesis of nebular condensation, whence, as we see,
it naturally follows, the doctrine that the Sun is gradually
losing his heat, has now gained considerable currency ; and
calculations have been made, both respecting the amount of
heat and light already radiated, as compared with the amount
that remains, and respecting the period during which active
radiation is likely to continue. Prof. Helmholtz estimates,
that since the time when, according to the nebular hj^pothesis,
the matter composing the Solar System extended to the orbit
of Neptune, there has been evolved by the arrest of sensible
motion, an amount of heat 454 times as great as that which
the Sun still has to give out. He also makes an approximate
estimate of the rate at which this remaining -j-^th is being
diffused : showing that a diminution of the Sun's diameter to
the extent of -i-o,oTro> would produce heat, at the present rate,
for more than 2000 years ; or in other words, that a contrac-
tion of YT.Tnro.TTo^ ^^ ^^^ diameter, suffices to generate the
amount of light and heat annually emitted ; and that thus, at
the present rate of expenditure, the Sun's diameter will di-
minish by something like -^V in the lapse of the next million
years.* Of course these conclusions are not to be considered
as more than rude approximations to the truth. Until quite
recently, we have been totally ignorant of the Sun's chemical
composition ; and even now have obtained but a superficial
knowledge of it. We know nothing of his internal structure ;
and it is quite possible (probable, I believe,) that the
assumptions respecting central density, made in the foregoing
estimates, are wrong. But no uncertainty in the data on
which these calculations proceed, and no consequent error in
the inferred rate at which the Sun is expending his reserve
of force, militates against the general proposition that this

* See paper " On tlie Inter-action of Natural Forces," by Prof. Helmholtz,
translated by Prof. Tyndall, and publisbed in the Fhilosophical Magazine^ suppie-
'jDent to Vol. XI. fourtb eciiee.

EQUILIBRATION. • 495

reserve of force is being expended ; an^ must in time be ex-
hausted. Though the residue of undiffused motion in the Sun,
may be much greater than is above concluded ; though tho
rate of radiation cannot, as assumed, continue at a miiform
rate, but must eventually go on with slowly- decreasing
rapidity ; and though the period at which the Sun will cease
to afford us adequate light and heat, is very possibly far more
distant than, above implied ; yet such a period must some
time be reached, and this is all which it here concerns us
to observe.

Thus while the Solar System, if evolved from diffused mat-
ter, has illustrated the law of equilibration in the establishment
of a complete moving equilibrium; and while, as at present con-
stituted, it illustrates the law of equilibration in the balancing
of all its movements ; it also illustrates this law in the pro-
cesses which astronomers and physicists infer are still going
on. That motion of masses produced during Evolution, is
being slowly re-diffused in molecular motion of the ethereal
medium ; both through the progressive integration of each
mass, and the resistance to its motion through space. Infinitely
remote as may be the state when all the motions of masses shall
be transformed into molecular motion, and all the molecular
motion equilibrated ; yet such a state of complete integration
and complete equilibration, is that towards which the changes
now going on throughout the Solar System inevitably tend.

§ 172. A spherical figure is the one which can alone equi-
librate the forces of mutually- gravitating atoms. If the ag-
gregate of such atoms has a rotatory motion, the form of
equilibrium becomes a spheroid of greater or less oblateness,
according to the rate of rotation ; and it has been ascertained
that the Earth is an oblate spheroid, diverging just as much
from sphericity as is requisite to counterbalance the centrifugal
force consequent on its velocity round its axis. That is to
say, during the evolution of the Earth, there has been reached
a complete equilibrium of those forces which affect its general

496 • EQUILIBRATION.

outline. The only other process of equililration

whicL. the Earth as a whole can exhibit, is the loss of its axial
motion; and that any such loss is going on, we have no
direct evidence. It has been contended, however, by Prof.
Helmholtz, that inappreciable as may be its effect within
known periods of time, the friction of the tidal wave must
be slowly diminishing the Earth's rotatory motion, and must
eventually destroy it. Now though it seems an oversight
to say that the Earth's rotation can thus be destroyed, since
the extreme effect, to be reached only in infinite time by such
a process, would be an extension of the Earth's day to the
length of a lunation; yet it seems clear that this friction
of the tidal wave is a real cause of decreasing rotation. Slow
as its action is, we must recognize it as exemplifying, under
another form, the universal progress towards eqtdlibrium.

It is needless to point out, in detail, how those movements
which the Sun's rajs generate in the air and water on the
Earth's surface, and through them in the Earth's solid sub-
stance,* one and all teach the same general truth. Evidently
the winds and waves and streams, as well as the denudations ard
depositions they effect, perpetually illustrate on a grand scale,
and in endless modes, that gradual dissipation of motions
described in the first section ; and the consequent tendency
towards a balanced distribution of forces. Each of these
sensible motions, produced directly or indirectly by integra-
tion of those insensible motions communicated from the Sun,
becomes, as we have seen, divided and subdivided into
motions less and less sensible ; until it is finally reduced to
insensible motions, and radiated from the Earth in the shape
of thermal undulations. In their totality, these com-

* IJntll I recently consulted his "Outlines of Astronomy" on another ques-
tion, I was not aware that so far back as 1833, Sir John Ilcrschcl had enunci-
ated the doctrine that " the sun's rays are the ultimate source of almost every
motion which takes place on the surface of the earth." lie expressly includes
all geologic, meteorologic, and vital actions; as also those which we produce by
the combustion of coal. The late George Stephenson appears to have beca
wrouglj credited with this last idea

EQUILIBRATION. 497

plex movements of aerial, liquid, and solid matter on tHe
Earth's orust, constitute a dependent moving equilibrium. As
we before saw, there is traceable throughout them an in-
volved combination of rhythms. The unceasing circula-
tion of water from the ocean to the land, and from the land
back to the ocean, is a type of these various compensating
actions ; which, in the midst of all the irregularities produced
by their mutual interferences, maintain an average. And in
this, as in other equilibrations of the third order, we see that
ihe power from moment to moment in course of dissipation,
is from moment to moment renewed from without : the rises
and falls in the supply, being balanced by rises and falls in the
expenditure ; as witness the correspondence between the mag-
netic variations and the cycle of the solar spots. But
the fact it chiefly concerns us to observe, is, that this process
must go on bringing things ever nearer to complete rest.
These mechanical movements, meteorologic and geologic,
which are continually being equilibrated, both temporarily
by counter-movements and permanently by the dissipation of
such movements and counter-movements, will slowly diminish
as the quantity of force received from the Sun diminishes.
As the insensible motions propagated to us from the centre
of our system become feebler, the sensible motions here pro-
duced by them must decrease ; and at that remote period
when the solar heat has ceased to be appreciable, there will
no longer be any appreciable re- distributions of matter on the
surface of our planet.

Thus from the highest point of view, all terrestrial changes
are incidents in the course of cosmical equilibration. It was
before pointed out, (§ 69) that of the incessant alterations
ivhich the Earth's crust and atmosphere undergo, those which
are not due to the still-progressing motion of the Earth's sub-
otance towards its centre of gravity, are due to the still-pro-
gressing motion of the Sun's substance towards its centre of
gravity. Here it is to be remarked, that this continuance of
integration in the Earth and in the Sun, is a continuance oi

49S EQUILIBRATION.

that transformation of sensible motion into insensible motion
whicb we have seen ends in equilibration ; and that the ar-
rival in each case at the extreme of integration, is the arrival
at a state in which no more sensible motion remains to be
transformed into insensible motion — a state in which the
forces producing integration and the forces opposing integra-
tion, have become equal.

§ 173. Every living body exhibits, in a four-fold form,
the process we are tracing out — exhibits it from moment to
moment in the balancing of mechanical forces ; from hour to
hour in the balancing of functions ; from year to year in the
changes of state that compensate changes of condition ; and
finally in the complete arrest of vital movements at death.
Let us consider the facts under these heads.

The sensible motion constituting each visible action of an
organism, is soon brought to a close by some adverse force
within or without the organism. When the arm is raised, the
motion given to it is antagonized partly by gravity and partly
by the internal resistances consequent on structure ; and its
motion, thus suffering continual deduction, ends when the arm
has reached a position at which the forces are equilibrated. The
limits of each systole and diastole of the heart, severally show
us a momentary equilibrium between muscular strains that pro-
duce opposite movements ; and each gush of blood requires
to be iinmediafely followed by another, because the rapid
dissipation of its momentum would otherwise soon bring
the mass of circulating fluid to a stand. As much in the
actions and re-actions going on among the internal organs,
as in the mechanical balancing of the whole body, there is at
every instant a progressive equilibration of the -motions at
every instant produced. Viewed in their aggregate,

and as forming a series, the organic functions constitute
a dependent moving equilibrium — a moving equilibrium,
of which the motive power is ever being dissipated through
the special equilibrations just exemplified, and is evex

EQUILIBRATION. 499

being renewed by the taking in of additional motive power.
Food is a store of force which continually adds to the momen-
tum of the vital actions, as much as is continually deducted
from them by the forces overcome. All the functional move-
ments thus maintained, are, as we have seen, rhythmical (§ 85) ;
by their union compound rhythms of various lengths and
complexities are produced ; and in these simple and com-
pound rhythms, the process of equilibration, besides being
exemphfied at each extreme of every rhythm, is seen in the
habitual preservation of a constant mean, and in the re- estab-
lishment of that mean when accidental causes have produced
divergence from it. When, for instance, there is a great ex-
penditure of motion through muscular activity, there arises a
re-active demand on those stores of latent motion which are laid
up in the form of consumable matter throughout the tissues :
increased respiration and increased rapidity of circulation,
are instrumental to an extra genesis of force, that counter-
balances the extra dissipation of force. This unusual trans-
formation of molecular motion into sensible motion, is presently
followed by an unusual absorption of food — the source of mole-
cular motion ; and in proportion as there has been a prolonged
draft upon the spare capital of the system, is there a tendency
to a prolonged rest, during which that spare capital is replaced.
If the deviation from the ordinary course of the functions has
been so great as to derange them, as when violent exertion
produces loss of appetite and loss of sleep, an equilibration is
still eventually effected. Providing the disturbance is not
such as to overturn the balance of the functions, and destroy
life (in which case a complete equilibration is suddenly effected),
the ordinary balance is by and by re-established : the return-
ing appetite is keen in proportion as the waste has been large ;
while sleep, sound and prolonged, makes up for previous wake-
fulness. Not even in those extreme cases where some excess
has wrought a derangement that is never wholly rectified, is
there an exception to the general law ; for in such cases the
cycle of the functions is, after a time, equilibrated about a new

500 EQUILIBRATION

mean state, whicli thenceforth becomes the normal state of
the individual. Thus, among the involved rhythmical changes
constituting organic life, any disturbing force that works an
excess of change in some direction, is gradually diminished
and finally neutralized by antagonistic forces ; which there-
upon work a compensating change in the opposite direction,
and so, after more or less of oscillation, restore the medium
condition. And this process it is, which constitutes what
physicians call the vis medicatrix tiaturce. The third

form of equilibration displayed by organic bodies, is a neces-
sary sequence of that just illustrated. "When through a
change of habit or circumstance, an organism is permanently
subject to some new influence, or difierent amount of an old
influence, there arises, after more or less disturbance of the
organic rhythms, a balancing of them around the new average
condition produced by this additional influence. As temporary
divergences of the organic rhythms are counteracted by tem-
porary divergences of a reverse kind ; so there is an equili-
bration of their permanent divergences by the genesis of oppos-
ing divergences that are equally permanent. If the quantity
of motion to be habitually generated by a muscle, becomes
greater than before, its nutrition becomes greater than before.
If the expenditure of the muscle bears to its nutrition, a
greater ratio than expenditure bears to nutrition in other parts
of the system ; the excess of nutrition becomes such that the
muscle grows. And the cessation of its growth is the estab-
lishment of a balance between the daily waste and the daily
repair — the daily expenditure of force, and the amount of
latent force daily added. The like must manifestly be the
case with all organic modifications consequent on change of
climate or food. This is a conclusion which we may safely
draw without knowing the special re- arrangements that ef-
fect the equilibration. If we see that a difierent mode of
life is followed, after a period of functional derangement,
by some altered condition of the system — if we see that this
altered ccmdition, becoming by and by established, continues

EQUILIBRATION. 601

without further change ; we have no alternative but to say,
that the' new forces brought to bear on the system, have
been compensated by the opposing forces they have evoked.
And this is the interpretation of the process which we call
adaptation. Finally, each organism illustrates the

law; in the ensemble of its life. At the outset It daily absorbs
under the form of food, an amount of force greater than it
daily expends ; and the surplus is daily equilibrated by
growth. As maturity is approached, this surplus diminishes ;
and in the perfect organism, the day's absorption of potential
motion balances the day's expenditure of actual motion. That
is to say, during adult life, there is continuously exhibited an
equilibration of the third order. Eventually, the daily loss,
beginning to out-balance the daily gain, there results a dimin-
ishing amount of functional action ; the organic rhythms
extend less and less widely on each side of the medium
state ; and there finally results that complete equilibration
which we call death.

The ultimate structural state accompanying that ultimate
functional state towards which an organism tends, both indivi-
dually and as a species, may be deduced from one of the pro-
positions set down in the opening section of this chapter.
We saw that the limit of heterogeneity is arrived at when-
ever the equilibration of any aggregate becomes complete —
that the re- distribution of matter can continue so long only as
there continues any motion unbalanced. "Whence we found it
to follow that the final structural arrangements, must be such
as will meet all the forces acting on the aggregate, by equiva-
lent antagonist forces. ^Yhat is the implication in the case
of organic aggregates ; the equilibrium of which js a moving
one ? "VYe have seen that the maintenance of such a moving
equilibrium, requires the habitual genesis of internal forces
corresponding in number, directions, and amounts to the ex-
ternal incident forces — as many inner functions, single or
combined, as there are single or combined outer actions to ba
Diet. But functions are the correlatives of organs ; amounts

602 EQUILIBRATION.

of functions are, other things equal, tlie correlatives of sizes
of organs ; and combinations of functions the correlatives of
connections of organs. Hence the structural complexity
accompanying functional equilibration, is definable as one in
, which there are as many specialized parts as are capable,
separately and jointly, of counteracting the separate and
joint forces amid which the organism exists. And this is the
limit of organic heterogeneity; to which man has approached
more nearly than any other creature.

Groups of organisms display this universal tendency to-
wards a balance very obviously. In § 85, every species of
plant and animal was shown to be perpetually undergoing a
rhythmical variation in number — ^now from abundance of
food and absence of enemies rising above its average ; and
then by a consequent scarcity of food and abundance of ene-
mies being depressed below its average. And here we have
to observe that there is thus maintained an equilibrium be-
tween the sum of those forces which result in the increase of
each race, and the sum of those forces which result in its dcr
crease. Either limit of variation is a point at which the one
set of forces, before in excess of the other, is counterbalanced
by it. And amid these oscillations produced by their con-
flict, lies that average number of the species at which its
expansive tendency is in equilibrium with surrounding
repressive tendencies. Nor can it be questioned that this
balancing of the preservative and destructive forces which
we see going on in every race, must necessarily go on. Since
increase of number cannot but continue until increase of
mortality stops it ; and decrease of number cannot but con-
tinue until it is either arrested by fertility or extinguishes the
race entirely.

§ 174. The equilibrations of those nervous actions which
constitute what we know as mental life, may be classified in
like manner with those which constitute what wo dis-

EQUILIBRATION. 503

tinguisli as bodily life. AVe may deal with them in the
same order.

Each pulse of nervous force from moment to moment gener-
ated, (and it was shown in § 86 that nervous currents are not
continuous but rhythmical) is met by counteracting forces; in,
overcoming which it is dispersed and equilibrated. When
tracing out the correlation and equivalence of forces, we saw
that each sensation and emotion, or rather such part of it as
remains after the excitation of associated ideas and feelings,
is expended in working bodily changes — contractions of the
involuntary muscles, the voluntary muscles, or both ; as also
in a certain stimulation of secreting organs. That the move-
ments thus initiated are ever being brought to a close by the
opposing forces they evoke, was pointed out above ; and here it
is to be observed that the like holds with the nervous changes
thus initiated. Various facts prove that the arousing of a
thought or feeling, always involves the overcoming of a cer-
tain resistance : instance the fact that where the association
of mental states has not been frequent, a sensible effort is
needed to call up the one after the other ; instance the fact
that during nervous prostration there is a comparative in-
ability to think — the ideas will not follow one another with tlie
habitual rapidity ; instance the converse fact that at times of
unusual energy, natural or artificial, the friction of thought
becomes relatively small, and more numerous, more remote,
or more difficult connections of ideas are formed. That is to
say, the wave of nervous energy each instant generated, pro-
pagates itself throughout body and brain, along those chan-
nels which the conditions at the instant render lines of least
resistance ; and spreading widely in proportion to its amount,
ends only when it is equilibrated by the resistances it every
where meets. If we contemplate mental actions aa

extending over hours and days, we discover equilibrations
analogous to those hourly and daily established among the
bodily functions. In the one case as in the other, there are

504 EQUILIBRATION.

rhythms which exhibit a balancing of opposing forces at each
extreme, and the maintenance of a certain general balance.
This is seen in the daily alternation of mental activity and
mental rest — the forces expended during the one being compen-
^ sated by the forces acquired during the other. It is also seen in
the recurring rise and fall of each desire: each desire reaching a
certain intensity, is equilibrated either by expenditure of the
force it embodies, in the desired actions, or, less completely, in
the imagination of such actions : the process ending in that sa-
tiety, or that comparative quiescence, forming the opposite limit
of the rhythm. And it is further manifest under a two-fold
form, on occasions of intense joy or grief : each paroxysm of
passion, expressing itself in vehement bodily actions, presently
reaches an extreme whence the counteracting forces produce
a return to a condition of moderate excitement ; and the suc-
cessive paroxysms finally diminishing in intensity, end in a
mental equilibrium either like that before existing, or par
tially differing from it iti its medium state. But

the species of mental equilibration to be more especially noted,
is that shown in the establishment of a correspondence be-
tween relations among our states of consciousness and relations
in the external world. Each outer connection of phenomena
which we are capable of perceiving, generates, through ac-
cumulated experiences, an inner connection of mental states ;
and the result towards which this process tends, is the forma-
tion of a mental connection having a relative strength that
answers to the relative constancy of the physical connection
represented. In conformity with the general law that
motion pursues the line of least resistance, and that, other
things equal, a line once taken by motion is made a line that
will be more readily pursued by future motion ; we have seen
that the ease with which nervous impressions follow one an-
other, is, other things equal, great in proportion to the num-
ber of times they have been repeated together in experience.
Jlence, corresponding to such an invariable relation as that be-
tween the resistance of an object and some extension possessed

EQUILIBRATION. 505

by it, there arises an indissoluble connection in consciousness ;
and this connection, being as absolute internally as the answer-
ing one is externally, undergoes no further change — the inner
relation is in perfect equilibrium with the outer relation.
Conversely, it hence happens that to such uncertain relations
of phenomena as that between clouds and rain, there arise
relations of ideas of a lilie uncertainty ; and if, under given
aspects of the sky, the tendencies to infer fair or foul wea-
ther, correspond to the frequencies with which fair or foui
weather follow such aspects, the accumulation of experiences
has balanced the mental sequences and the physical sequences.
When it is remembered that between these extremes there
are countless orders of external connections having different
degrees of constancy, and that during the evolution of in-
tellio:ence there arise answerinof internal associations having^
different degrees of cohesion ; it will be seen that there is a
progress towards equilibrium between the relations of thought
and the relations of things. This equilibration can end
only when each relation of things has generated in us a rela-
tion of thought, such that on the occurrence of the conditions,
the relation in thought arises as certainly as the relation in
things. Supposing this state to b6 reached (which however it
can be only in infinite time) experience will cease to produce
any further mental evolution — there will have been reached a
perfect correspondence between ideas and facts ; and the in-
tellectual adaptation of man to his circumstances will be
complete. The like general truths are exhibited in

the process of moral adaptation ; which is a continual approach
to equilibrium between the emotions and the kinds of con-
duct necessitated by surrounding conditions. The connections
of feelings and actions, are determined in the same way
as the connections of ideas : just as repeating the association
of two ideas, facilitates the excitement of the one by the
other ; so does each discharge of feeling into action, render
the subsequent discharge of such feeling into such action
•nore easy. Hence it happens that if an individual is placed
23

506 EQUILIBRATION.

permanently in conditions which, demand more action of a
special kind than has before been requisite, or than is natural
to him — if the pressure of the painful feelings which these
conditions entail when disregarded, impels him to perforin
this action to a greater extent — if by every more frequent or
more lengthened performance of it under such pressure, the
resistance is somewhat diminished ; then, clearly, there
is an advance towards a balance between the demand for
this kind of action and the supply of it. Either in him-
self, or in his descendants continuing to live under these
conditions, enforced repetition must eventually bring about
a state in which this mode of directing the energies will bo
no more repugnant than the various other modes previously
natural to the race. Hence the limit towards which emotional
modification perpetually tends, and to which it must approach
indefinitely near (though it can absolutely reach it only in
infinite time) is a combination of desires that correspond to
all the different orders of activity which the circumstances of
life call for — desires severally proportionate dn strength to
the needs for these orders of activity ; and severally satisfied
by these orders of activity. In what we distinguish as
iicquired habits, and in the moral differences of races and
nations produced by habits that are maintained through suc-
cessive generations, we have countless illustrations of this
progressive adaptation ; which can cease only with the estab-
lishment of a complete equilibrium between constitution and
conditions.

Possibly 3ome will fail to see how the equilibrations de-
bcribed in this section, can be classed with those preceding
them ; and will be inclined to say that what are here set
down as facts, are but analogies. N'everthelcss such equi-
librations are as truly physical as the rest. To show this
fully, would require a more detailed analysis than can now be
entered on. For the present it must suffice to point out, as
before (§ 71), that what we know subjectively as states of

EQUILIBRATION. 507

ooneciousness, are, objectively, modes of force ; that so much
t'eelingistlie correlate of so much motion; that the performancfi
of any bodily action is the transformation of a certain amount
of feeling into its equivalent amount of motion; that this
bodily action is met by forces which it is expended in over-
coming ; and that the necessity for the frequent repetition of
this action, implies the frequent recurrence of forces to oe so
overcome. Hence the existence in any individual of an
emotional stimulus that is in equilibrium with certain ex-
ternal requirements, is literally the habitual production of a
certain specialized portion of nervous energy, equivalent in
amount to a certain order of external resistances that are
habitually met. And thus the ultimate state, forming the
limit towards which Evolution carries us, is one in which the
kinds and quantities of mental energy daily generated and
transformed into motions, are equivalent to, or in equilibrium
with, the various orders and degrees of surrounding forces
which antagonize such motions.

§ 175. Each society taken as a whole, displays the process
of equilibration in the continuous adjustment of its population
to its means of subsistence. A tribe of men living on wild
animals and fruits, is manifestly, like every tribe of inferior
creatures, always oscillating about that average number which
the locality can support. Though by artificial production, ancL
by successive improvements in artificial production, a superior
race continually alters the limit which external conditions
put to population ; yet there is ever a checking of population
at the temporary limit reached. It is true that where the
limit is being so rapidly changed as among ourselves, there
is no actual stoppage : there is only a rhythmical variation
in the rate of increase. But in noting the causes of this
rhythmical variation — in watching how, during periods 0£
abundance, the proportion of marriages increases, and how
it decreases during periods of scarcity ; it will be seen that tLo

508 EQUILIBRATION.

expansive force produces unusual advance whenever the tt^
pressive force diminishes, and vice versa ; and thus there ia i««
near a balancing of the two as the changing conditions permit.
The internal actions constituting social functions, exemplify
the general principle no less clearly. Supply and demand
are continually being adjusted throughout all industrial pro-
cesses ; and this equilibration is interpretable in the same way
as preceding ones. The production and distribution of a
commodity, is the expression of a certain aggregate of forces
causing special kinds and amounts of motion. The price of
this commodity, is the measure of a certain other aggregate
of forces expended by the labourer who purchases it, in other
kinds and amounts of motion. And the variations of price
represent a rhythmical balancing of these forces. Every rise
or fall in the rate of interest, or change in the value of a
particular security, implies a conflict of forces in which some,
becoming temporarily predominant, cause a movement that
is presently arrested or equilibrated by the increase of oppos-
ing forces ; and amid these daily and hourly oscillations, lies a
more slowly- varying medium, into which the value ever tends
to settle ; and would settle but for the constant addition of new
influences. As in the individual organism so in the

social organism, functional equilibrations generate structural
equilibrations. When on the workers in any trade there
comes an increased demand, and when in return for the in-
creased supply, there is given to them an amount of other com-
modities larger than was before habitual — when, consequently,
the resistances overcome by them in sustaining life are less
than the resistances overcome by other workers ; there
results a flow of other workers into this trade. Tliis
flow continues untij the extra demand is met, and the
wages so far fall again, that the total resistance over
come in obtaining a given amount of produce, is as great in
this newly-adopted occupation as in the occupations whence
it drew recruits. The occurrence ol motion along linos of
least resistance, was before shown to necessitate the growth,

EQUILIBRATION 509

of population in tliose places where tlie labour required for
self-maintenance is the smallest ; and here we further see
that those engaged in any such advantageous locality, or
advantageous business, must multiply tiU there arises an
approximate balance between this locality or business and
others accessible to the same citizens. In determining
the career of every youth, we see an estimation by parents of
the respective advantages offered by all that are available,
and a choice of the one which promises best ; and through
the consequent influx into trades that are at the time most
profitable, and the withholding of recruits from over-stocked
trades, there is insured a general equipoise between the
power of each social organ and the function it has to perform.
The various industrial actions and re-actions thus con-
tinually alternating, constitute a dependent moving equiK-
brium like that which is maintained among the functions
of an individual organism. And this dependent moving
equilibrium parallels those already contemplated, in its tend-
ency to become more complete. During, early stages of
social evolution, while yet the resources of the locality inha-
bited are unexplored, and the arts of production undeveloped,
there is never anything more than a temporary and partial
balancing of such actions, under the form of acceleration or
retardation of growth. But when a society approaches the
maturity of that type on which it is organized, the vari-
ous industrial activities settle down into a comparatively
constant state. Moreover, it is observable that advance in
organization, as well as advance in growth, is conducive to a
better equilibrium of industrial functions. "While the diffu-
sion of mercantile information is slow, and the means of
transport deficient, the adjustment of supply to demand is
extremely imperfect : great over-production of each com-
modity followed by great under-production, constitute a
rhythm having extremes that depart very widely from the
nean state in which demand and supply are equilibrated.
But when good roads are made, and there is a rapid diffusion of

MO EQUILIBRATION.

printed or written intelligence, and still more when railways
and telegraphs come into existence — when the periodical
fairs of early days lapse into weekly markets, and these into
daily markets ; there is gradually produced a better balance
of production and consumption. Extra demand is much
more quickly followed by augmented supply ; and the rapid
oscillations of price within narrow limits on either side of a
comparatively uniform mean, indicate a near approach to
equilibrium. Evidently this industrial progress has

for its limit, that which Mr. Mill has called " the sta-
tionary state." When population shall have become dense
over all habitable parts of the globe ; when the resources of
every region have been fully explored ; and when the product-
ive arts admit of no further improvements ; there must result
an almost complete balance, both between the fertility and
mortality of each society, and between its producing and
consuming activities. Each society will exhibit only minor
deviations from its average number, and the rhythm of its
industrial functions will go on from day to day and year
to year with comparatively insignificant perturbations. This
limit, however, though we are inevitably advancing towards
it, is indefinitely remote ; and can never indeed be absolutely
reached. The peopling of the Earth up to the point sup-
posed, cannot take place by simple spreading. In the future,
as in the past, the process will be carried on rhythmically,
by waves of emigration from new and higher centres of
civilization successively arising ; and by the supplanting of
inferior races by the superior races they beget; and the
process so carried on must be extremely slow. Nor does
it seem to me that such an equilibration will, as Mr. Mill
suggests, leave scope for further mental culture and moral
progress ; but rather that the approximation to it must
be simultaneous with the approximation to complete equi-
librium between man's nature and the conditions of hia
existence.

One other kind of social equilibration has still to be con-

EQUILIBRATION. 511

fiidered :— tliat which results in the establishment of govern-
mental institutions, and which becomes complete as these
institutions fall into harmony with the desires of the people.
There is a demand and supply in political affairs as in indus-
trial affairs ; and in the one case as in the other, the antag-
onist forces produce a rhythm which, at first extreme in its
oscillations, slowly settles down into a moving equilibrium of
comparative regularity. Those aggressive impulses inherited
from the pre-social state — those tendencies to seek self-satis-
faction regardless of injury to other beings, which are essen-
tial to a predatory life, constitute an anti-social force, tending
ever to cause conflict and eventual separation of citizens.
Contrariwise, those desires whose ends can be achieved
only by union, as well as those sentiments which find satisfac-
tion through intercourse with fellow-men, and those result-
ing in what we call loyalty, are forces tending to keep the
units of a society together. On the one hand, there is in
each citizen, more or less of resistance against all restraints
imposed on his actions by other citizens : a resistance which,
tending continually to widen each individual's sphere of
action, and reciprocally to limit the spheres of action
of other individuals, constitutes a repulsive force mutually
exercised by the members of a social aggregate. On the
other hand, the general sympathy of man for man, and
the more special sympathy of each variety of man for others
of the same variety, together with sundry allied feelings
which the social state 'gratifies, act as an attractive force,
tending ever to keep united those who have a common ances-
try. And since the resistances to be overcome in satisfying
the totality of their desires when living separately, are greater
than the resistances to be overcome in satisfying the totality
of their desires when living together, there is a residuary
force that prevents their separation. Like all other opposing
forces, those exerted by citizens on each other, are ever
producing alternating movements, which, at first extreme,
undergo a gradual diminution on the way to ultimate cquili-

512 Eai^TLIRRATKW.

briura. In small^ undeveloped societies, marked rhythms
result from these conflicting tendencies. A tribe whose
members have held together for a generation or two, reaches
a size at which it will not hold together ; and on the occur-
rence of some event causing unusual antagonism among its
members, divides. Each primitive nation, depending largely
for its continued union on the character of its chief, exhibits
wide oscillations between an extreme in which the subjects
are under rigid restraint, and an extreme in which the
restraint is not enough to prevent disorder. In more
advanced nations of like type, we always find violent ac-
tions and reactions of the same essential nature — " despotism
tempered by assassination," characterizing a political state
in which unbearable repression from time to time brings
about a bursting of all bonds. In this familiar fact, that a
period of tyranny is followed by a period of license and
vice versdf we see how these opposing forces are ever equili-
brating each other ; and we also see, in the tendency of such
movements and counter- movements to become more moder-
ate, how the equilibration progresses towards completeness.
The conflicts between Conservatism (which stands for the
restraints of society over the individual) and Eeform (which
stands for the liberty of the individual against society), fall
within slowly approximating limits ; so that the temporary
predominance of either, produces a less marked deviation
from the medium state. This process, now so far

advanced among ourselves that the oscillations are compara-
tively unobtrusive, must go on till the balance between the
antagonist forces approaches indefinitely near perfection.
For, as we have already seen, the adaptation of man's nature
to the conditions of his existence, cannot cease until the in-
ternal forces which we know as feelings are in equilibrium
with the external forces they encounter. And the establish-
ment of this equilibrium, is the arrival at a state of human
nature and social organization, such that the individual haa
no desires but those which may be satisfied without exceed-

EQUILIBRATION. 513

ing his proper sphere of action, while society maintains no
restraints but those which the individual yoluntarily re-
spects. The progressive extension of the liberty of citizens,
and the reciprocal removal of political restrictions, are the
steps by which we advance towards this state. And the ulti-
mate abolition of all limits to the freedom of each, save those
imposed by the like freedom of all, must result from the
complete equilibration between man's desires and the conduct
necessitated by surrounding conditions.

Of course in this case, as in the preceding ones, there is
thus involved a limit to the increase of heterogeneity. A
few pages back, we reached the conclusion that each advance
in mental evolution, is the establishment of some further
internal action, corresponding to some further external
action — some additional connection of ideas or feelings,
answering to some before unknown or unantagonized con-
nection of phenomena. We inferred that each such new
function, involving some new modification of structure,
implies an increase of heterogeneity ; and that thus, in-
crease of heterogeneity must go on, while there remain any
outer relations affecting the organism which are unbalanced
by inner relations. "WTience we saw it to follow that in-
crease of heterogeneity can come to an end only as equilibra-
tion is completed. Evidently the like must simultaneously
take place with society. Each increment of heterogeneity
in the individual, must directly or indirectly involve, as
cause or consequence, some increment of heterogeneity in
the arrangements of the aggregate of individuals. And the
limit to social complexity can be arrived at, only w4th the
establishment of the equilibrium, just described, between
social and individual forces.

§ 176. Here presents itself a final question, which has pro-
bably been taking a more or less distinct shape in the minds
of many, while reading this chapter. " If Evolution of every
kind, is an increase in complexity of structure and function

514 EQTJILIBBATION.

tliafc is incidental to tlio universal process of equilibration,
and if equilibration must end in complete rest ; wiiat is tlio
fate towards wHch all things tend ? If tbe Solar System
is slowly dissipating its forces — ^if tbe Sun is losing his heat
at a rate which will tell in millions of years — if with
diminution of the Sun's radiations there must go on a
diminution in the activity of geologic and meteorologic
processes as well as in the quantity of vegetal and animal
existence — ^if Man and Society are similarly dependent on
this supply of force that is gradually coming to an end ; are
we not manifestly progressing towards Omnipresent death V

That such a state must be the outcome of the processes
everywhere going on^ seems beyond doubt. Whether any
ulterior process may reverse these changes^ and initiate a
new life, is a question to be considered hereafter. For the
present it must suffice that the proximate end of all the
transformations we have traced, is a state of quiescence.
This admits of a priori proof. It will soon become apparent
that the law of equilibration, not less than the preceding
general laws, is deducible from the persistence of force.

We have seen (§ 74) that phenomena are interpretable
only as the results of universally-coexistent forces of attrac-
tion and repulsion. These universally- coexistent forces of at-
traction and repulsion, are, indeed, the complementary aspects
of that absolutely persistent force which is the ultimate datum
of consciousness. Just in the same way that the equality of
action and re-action is a corollary from the persistence of
force, since their inequality would imply the disappearance
of the differential force into nothing, or its appearance out of
nothing ; so, we cannot become conscious of an attractive
force without becoming simultaneously conscious of an equal
and opposite repulsive force, For every experience of a
muscular tension, (under which form alone we can immedi-
ately know an attractive force,) presupposes an equivalent
resistance — a resistance shown in the counter-balancing pres-
sure of the body against neighbouring objects, or in that

EQUILIBRATION. 615

absorption of force which gives motion to the body, or in
both — a resistance which we cannot conceive as other than
equal to the tension, without conceiving force to have either
appeared or disappeared, and so denying the persistence of
force. And from this necessary correlation, results our ina-
bility, before pointed out, of interpreting any phenomena
save in terms of these correlatives — an inability shown ahke
in the compulsion we are under to think of the statical forces
which tangible matter displays, as due to the attraction and
repulsion of its atoms, and in the compulsion we are under to
think of dynamical forces exercised through space, by regard-
ing space as filled with atoms similarly endowed. Thus from
the existence of a force that is for ever imchangeable in quan-
tity, there follows, as a necessary corollary, the co-extensive
existence of these opposite forms of force — forms under
which the conditions of our consciousness oblige us to repre-
sent that absolute force which transcends our knowledge.

But the forces of attraction and repulsion being univer-
sally co-existent, it follows, as before shown, that all motion
is motion under resistance. Units of matter, solid, liquid,
aeriform, or ethereal, filling the space which any moving
body traverses, ofier to such body the resistance consequent
on their cohesion, or their inertia, or both. In other words,
the denser or rarer medium which occupies the places from
moment to moment passed through by such moving body,
having to be expelled from them, as much motion is ab-
stracted from the moving body as is given to the medium in
expelling it from these places. This being the condition
under which all motion occurs, two corollaries result. The
first is, that the deductions perpetually made by the com-
munication of motion to the resisting medium, cannot but
bring the motion of the body to an end in a longer or shorter
time. The second is, that the motion of the body cannot
cease until these deductions destroy it. In other words,
movement must continue till equilibration takes place ; and
equilibration must eventually take place. Both these are

516 EQUILIBRATION.

manifest deductions from the persistence of force. To say
that the whole or part of a body's motion can disappear, save
by transfer to something which resists its motion, is to say
that the whole or part of its motion can disappear without
effect; which is to deny the persistence of force. Con-
versely, to say that the medium traversed can be moved out of
the body's path, without deducting from the body's motion,
is to say that motion of the medium can arise out of no-
thing ; which is to deny the persistence of force. Hence
this primordial truth is our immediate warrant for the con-
clusions, that the changes which Evolution presents, cannot
end until equilibrium is reached ; and that equilibrium mus\,
at last be reached.

Equally necessary, because equally deducible from this
same truth that transcends proof, are the foregoing proposi-
tions respecting the establishment and maintenance of mov-
ing equilibria, under their several aspects. It follows from
the persistence of force, that the various motions possessed
by any aggregate, either as a whole or among its parts, must
be severally dissipated by the resistances they severally en-
counter ; and that thus, such of them as are least in amount,
or meet with greatest opposition, or both, will be brought to
a close while the others continue. Hence in every diversely
moving aggregate, there results a comparatively early dissi-
pation of motions which are smaller and much resisted ; fol-
lowed by long- continuance of the larger and less-resisted
motions ; and so there arise dependent and independent
moving equilibria. Hence also may be inferred the tend-
ency to conservation of such moving equilibria. For the
new motion given to the parts of a moving equilibrium by
a disturbing force, must either bo of such kind and amount
that it cannot be dissipated before the pre-existing motions,
in which case it brings the moving equilibrium to an end ;
or else it must be of such kind and amount that it can be
dissipated before the pre-existing motions^ in which caso
the moving equilibrium is rc-estabhsLed.

EQUILIBRATION. 517

Thus from tlie persistence of force follow, not only the
various direct and indirect equilibrations going on around^
together with, that cosmical equilibration wbich. brings Evo-
lution under all its forms to a close ; but also those less
manifest equilibrations shown in the re- adjustments of
moving equilibria that have been disturbed. By this
ultimate principle is provable the tendency of every
organism, disordered by some unusual influence, to return to
a balanced state. To it also may be traced the capacity,
possessed in a slight degree by individuals, and in a greater
degree by species, of becoming adapted to new circumstances.
And not less does it afford a basis for the inference, that
there is a gradual advance towards harmony between man's
mental nature and the conditions of his existence. After
finding that from it are deducible the various characteristics
of Evolution, we finally draw from it a warrant for the
belief, that Evolution can end only in the establishment of
the greatest perfection and the most complete happiness.

CHAPTER XXIIL

DISSOLUTION.

§ 177. Wteiij in Cliapter XII., we glanced at the cycle of
changes through which every existence passes, in its pro-
gress from the imperceptible to the perceptible and again
from the perceptible to the imperceptible— when these
opposite re-distributions of matter and motion were
severally distinguished as Evolution and Dissolution ; the
natures of the two, and the conditions under which they
respectively occur, were specified in general terms. Since
then, we have contemplated the phenomena of Evolution in
detail ; and have followed them out to those states of equili-
brium in which they all end. To complete the argument
we must now contemplate, somewhat more in detail than
before, the complementary phenomena of Dissolution. Not,
indeed, that we need dwell long on Dissolution, which has
none of those various and interesting aspects which Evolu-
tion presents ; but something more must be said than has
yet been said.

It was shown that neither of these two antagonist pro-
cesses ever goes on absolutely unqualified by the other;
and that a change towards either is a differential result of
the conflict between them. An evolving aggregate, while
on the average losing motion and integrating, is always, in
one way or other, receiving some motion and to that extent
disintegrating; and after the integrative changes have

DISSOLUTION 619

ceased to predominate, tlie reception of motion,, though
perpetually checked by its dissipation, constantly tends to
produce a reverse transformation, and eventually does pro-
duce it. When Evolution has run its course — when the
aggregate has at length parted with its excess of motion,
and habitually receives as much from its environment as it
habitually loses — when it has reached that equilibrium in
which its changes end ', it thereafter remains subject to all
actions in its environment which may increase the quantity
of motion it contains, and which in the lapse of time
are sure, either slowly or suddenly, to give its parts such
excess of motion as will cause disintegration. According
as its equilibrium is a very unstable or a very stable one,
its dissolution may come quickly or may be indefinitely de-
layed— may occur in a few days or may be postponed for
millions of years. • But exposed as it is to the contingencies
not simply of its immediate neighbourhood but of a Universe
everywhere in motion, the period must at last come when,
either alone or in company with surrounding aggregates, it
has its parts dispersed.

The process of dissolution so caused^, we have here to look
at as it takes place in aggregates of different orders. The
course of change being the reverse of that hitherto traced,
we may properly take the illustrations of it in the reverse
order — ^beginning with the most complex and ending with
the most simple.

§ 178. Ecgarding the evolution of a society as at onco
an increase in the number of individuals integrated into a
corporate body, an increase in the masses and varieties of
the parts into which this corporate body divides as well as
of the actions called their functions, and an increase in the
degree of combination among these masses and their func-
tions j we shall see that social dissolution conforms to the
general law in being, materially considered, a disintegration,
and, dynamically considered, a decrease in the movements

520

DISSOLUTION.

of wholes and an increase in the movements of parts ; wliilo
it further conforms to the general law in being caused by
an excess of motion in some way or other received from
without.

It is obvious that the social dissolution which follows the
aggression of another nation^ and which, as history shows
us, is apt to occur when social evolution has ended and
decay has begun, is, under its broadest aspect, the incidence
of a new external motion; and when, as sometimes
happens, the conquered society is dispersed, its dissolu-
tion is literally a cessation of those corporate movements
which the society, both in its army and in its industrial
bodies, presented, and a lapse into individual or uncombined
movements — the motion of units replaces the motion of
masses.

It cannot be questioned, either, that when plague or famine
at home, or a revolution abroad, gives to any society an un-
usual shock that causes disorder, or incipient dissolution,
there results a decrease of integrated movements and an in-
crease of disintegrated movements. As the disorder pro-
gresses, the political actions previously combined under one
government become uncombined : there arise the antagon-
istic actions of riot or revolt. Simultaneously, the indus-
trial and commercial processes that were co-ordinated
throughout the whole body pohtic, are broken up; and
only the local, or small, trading transactions continue.
And each further disorganizing change diminishes the
joint operations by which men satisfy their wants, and
leaves them to satisfy their wants, so far as they can, by
separate operations. Of the way in which such

d isintegrations are liable to be set up in a society that has
evolved to the limit of its type, and reached a state of
moving equilibrium, a good illustration is furnished by
Japan. The finished fabric into wHch its people had
organizcd.themselves, maintained an almost constant state
so long as it was preserved from fresh external forces. But

DISSOLUTION. 521

as soon as it received an impact from European civilization,
partly by armed aggression, partly by commercial impulsCj
partly by the influence of ideas, tliis fabric began to fall tc
pieces. There is now in progress a political dissolution.
Probably a political re-organization will follow ; but, be this
as it may, the change thus far produced by an outer action
is a change towards dissolution — a change from integrated
motions to disintegrated motions.

Even where a society that has developed into the highest
form permitted by the characters of its units, begins there-
after to dwindle and decay, the progressive dissolution i»
still essentially of the same nature. Dechne of numbers is,
in such case, brought about partly by emigration; for a
society having the fixed structure in which evolution ends,
is necessarily one that will not yield and modify under
pressure of population : so long as its structure -will yield
and modify, it is still evolving. Hence the surplus popula-
tion continually produced, not held together by an organiza-
tion that adapts itself to an augmenting number, is continually
dispersed : the influences brought to bear on the citizens by
other societies, cause their detachment, and there is an in-
crease in the uncombined motions of units instead of an in-
crease of combined motions. Gradually as rigidity becomes
greater, and the society becomes still less capable of being
re-moulded into the form required for successful competition
with growing and more plastic societies, the number of
citizens who can live within its unyielding framework
becomes positively smaller. Hence it dwindles both
through continued emigration and through the diminished
multiplication that follows innutrition. And this further
dwindling or dissolution, caused by the number of those
who die becoming greater than the number of those
who survive long enough to rear ofispring, is similarly a
decrease in the total quantity, of combined motion and an
increase in the qua ntity of uncombined motion — as we shall
presently see when we come to deal with individual dissolution.

522 DISSOLUTION.

Considering, then, that social aggregates dijQTer so mucli
from aggregates of other kinds, formed as they are of units
held together loosely and indirectly, in such variable ways
by such complex forces, the process of dissolution among
them conforms to the general law quite as clearTy as could
be expected.

§ 179. When from these super-organic Aggregates we de-
scend to organic aggregates, the truth that Dissolution is a
disintegration of matter, caused by the reception of ad-
ditional motion from without, becomes easily demonstrable.
We will look first at the transformation and afterwards at
its cause.

Death, or that final equilibration which precedes dissolu-
tion, is the bringing to a close of all those conspicuous
integrated motions that arose during evolution. The
impulsions of the body from place to place first cease ; pre-
sently the limbs cannot be stirred ; later still the respira-
tory actions stop; finally the heart becomes stationary, and,
with it, the circulating fluids. That is, the transformation
of molecular motion into the motion of masses, comes to
an end; and each of these motions of masses, as it ends,
disappears into molecular motions. What next takes place ?
We cannot say that there is any further transformation of
sensible movements into insensible movements ; for sensible
movements no longer exist. Nevertheless, the process of
decay involves an increase of insensible movements ; since
these are far greater in the gases generated by decomposi-
tion, than they are in the fluid-sohd matters out of which the
gases arise. Each of the complex chemical units composing
an organic body, possesses a rhythmic motion in which its
many component units jointly partake. When decomposition
breaks up these complex molecules, and their constituents
assume gaseous forms, there is, besides that increase of
motion implied by the diffusion, a resolution of such
motions as the aggregate molecules possessed, into motions

DISSOLUTION. Iy2d

»f their constituent molecules. So tliat in organic dissolu-
tion we have^ firsts an end put to that transformation of the
motion of units into the motion of aggregates^ which con-
stitutes evolution, dynamically considered; and we have
also, though in a subtler "sense, a transformation of tho
motion of aggregates into the motion of units. Still it is
not thus shown that organic dissolution fully answers to the
general definition of dissolution — the absorption of motion
and concomitant disintegration of matter. The disintegra-
tion of matter is, indeed, conspicuous .enough ; but the ab-
sorption of motion is not conspicuous. True, the fact that
motion has been absorbed may be inferred from the fact
that the particles previously integrated into a solid mass,
occupying a small space, have most of them moved away
from one another and now occupy a great space ; for the
motion imphed by this transposition must have been ob-
tained from somewhere. But its source is not obvious. A
little search, however, will bring us to its derivation.

At a temperature below the freezing point of water, de-
composition of organic matter does not take place — the
integrated motions of the highly integrated molecules are
not resolved into the disintegrated motions of their com-
ponent molecules. Dead bodies kept at this temperature
for an indefinitely long period, are prevented from decom-
posing for an indefinitely long period : witness tho frozen
carcases of Mammoths — Elephants of a species long ago
extinct — that are found imbedded in the ice at the mouths
of Siberian rivers; and which, though they have been there
for many thousands of years, have flesh so fresh that when
at length exposed, it is devoured by wolves. What now is
the meaning of such exceptional preservations? A body
kept below freezing point, is a body which receives very
little heat by radiation or conduction ; and the reception of
but little' heat is tho reception of but little molecular motion.
That is to say, in an environment which does not furnish it
with molecular motion passing a certain amount, an organic

624 mssoLunoH.

body does not undergo diBsolution. Confirmatory

evidence is yielded by the variations in rate of dissolution
wliicL. accompany variations of temperature. All know that
in cool weather the organic substances used in our house-
holds keep longer_, as we say, than in hot weather. Equally
certain^ if less familiar, is the fact that in tropical climates
decay proceeds much more rapidly than in temperate
climates. Thus, in proportion as the molecular motion of
surrounding matter is great, the dead organism receives an
abundant supply of motion to replace the motion continually
taken up by the dispersing molecules of the gases into
which it is being disintegrated. The still quicker

decompositions produced by exposure to artificially-raised
temperatures, aSbrd further proofs ; as instance those which
occur in cooking. The charred surfaces of parts that havo
been much heated, show us that the molecular motion
absorbed has served to dissipate in gaseous forms all the
elements but the carbon.

The nature and cause of Dissolution are thus clearly dis-
played by the aggregates which so clearly display tho
nature and cause of Evolution. One of these aggregates
being composed of that peculiar matter to which a large
quantity of constitutional motion gives great plasticity, and
the ability to evolve into a highly compound form (§ 103) ;
we see that after evolution has ceased, a very moderate
amount of molecular motion, added to that already locked
up in its peculiar matter, suffices to cause dissolution.
Though at death there is reached a stable equilibrium
among the sensible masses, or organs, which make up the
body; yet, as the insensible units or molecules of which
these organs consist are in unstable equilibrium, small
incident forces suffice to overthrow them, and hence disin-
tegration proceeds rapidly.

§ 180. Most inorganic aggregates, having arrived at

DISSOLUTION, bZb

dense forms in whicb comparatively little motion is retained,
remain long without marked changes. EacL. lias lost so
mncli motion in passing from the disintegrated to the inte-
grated state, that much motion must be given to it to
cause resumption of the disintegrated state; and an im-
mense time may elapse before there occur in the environ-
ment, changes great enough to communicate to it tho
requisite quantity of motion. We will look first at those
exceptional inorganic aggregates which retain much motion,
and therefore readily undergo dissolution.

Among these are the liquids and volatile solids which
dissipate under ordinary conditions — water that evaporates,
carbonate of ammonia that wastes away by the dispersion of
its molecules. In all such cases motion is absorbed; and
always the dissolution is rapid in proportion as the quantity
of heat or motion which the aggregated mass receives from
its environment is gi'eat. Next come the cases in

which the molecules of a highly integrated or solid aggre-
gate, are dispersed among the molecules of a less integrated
or liquid aggregate; as in aqueous solutions. One evidence
that this disintegration of matter has for its concomitant
the absorption of motion, is that soluble substances dissolve
the more quickly the hotter the water : supposing always that
no elective affinity comes into play. Another and still more
conclusive evidence is, that when crystals of a given tem-
perature are placed in water of the same temperature, the
process of solution is accompanied by a fall of tempera-
ture— often a very great one. Omitting instances in
which some chemical action takes place between the salt
and the water, it is a uniform law that the motion which
disperses the molecules of the salt through the water, is
at the expense of the molecular motion possessed by the
water.

Masses of sediment accumulated into strata, afterwards
compressed by many thousands of feet of superincumbent
strata* and reduced in course of time to a solid state.

52tf DISSOLUTION.

may remain for millions of years unchanged ; but in sub-
sequent millions of years tliey are inevitably exposed to
disintegrating actions. Raised along with other such masses
into a continent, denuded and exposed to rain, frost, and
the grinding actions of glaciers, they have their particles
gradually separated, carried away, and widely dispersed.
Or when, as otherwise happens, the encroaching sea reaches
them, the undermined cliffs which they form fall from time
to time, breaking into fragments of all sizes ; the waves,
rolling about the small pieces, and in storms turning over
and knocking together the larger blocks, reduce them to
boulders and pebbles, and at last to sand and mud. Even if
portions of the disintegrated strata accumulate into shingle
banks, which afterwards become solidified, the process of
dissolution, arrested though it may be for some enormous
geologic period, is finally resumed. As many a shore
shows us, the conglomerate itself is sooner or later subject
to the like processes ; and its cemented masses of hetero-
geneous components, lying on the beach, are broken up and
\C^orn away by impact and attrition — that is, by communicated
mechanical motion.

When not thus effected, the disintegration is effected by
communicated molecular motion. The consolidated stratum,
located in some area of subsidence, and brought down nearer
and nearer to the regions occupied by molten matter, comes
eventually to have its particles brought to a plastic state by
heat, or finally melted down into liquid. Whatever may be
its subsequent transformations, the transformation then ex-
hibited by it is an absorption of motion and disintegration
of matter.

Be it simple or compound, small or large, a crystal or s
mountain chain, every inorganic aggregate on the Earth,
thus, at some time or other, undergoes a reversal of those
changes undergone during its evolution. Not that it usually
passes back completely from the perceptible into the imper-
ceptible; as organic aggregates do in great part, if not

DISSOLUTION. 527

wholly. But still its disintegration and dispersion carry
it some distance on tlie way towards the imperceptible; and
there are reasons for thinking that its arrival there is
but delayed. At a period immeasurably remote, every such
inorganic aggregate, along with all undissipated remnants
of organic aggregates, must be reduced to a state
of gaseous diffusion, and so complete the cycle of its
changes.

§ 181. For the Earth as a whole, wben it has gone
through the entire series of its ascending transformations,
must remain, like all smaller aggregates, exposed to the
contingencies of its environment; and in the course of
those ceaseless changes in progress throughout a Universe
of wbich. all parts are in motion, must, at some period be-
yond th.e utmost stretch, of imagination, be subject to forces
sufficient to cause its complete disintegration. Let us
glance at the forces competent to disintegrate it.

In his essay on "The Inter-action of Natural Forces,"
Prof. Helmkoltz states the thermal equivalent of the Earth's,
movement through space, as calculated on the now received
datum of Mr. Joule. " If our Earth,'' lie says, " were by a
sudden shock brought to rest in ber orbit, — wkich is not to
be feared in the existing arrangement of our system — by
such, a shock a quantity of beat would be generated equal
to that produced by the combustion of fom-teen such. Earths
of solid coal. Making the most unfavourable assumption
as to its capacity for heat, that is, placing it equal to that
of water, the maSs of the Earth, would thereby be beated
11,200 degrees; it would therefore be quite fused, and for
the most part reduced to vapour. If then the Earth,
after having been thus brought to rest, should fall
into the Sun, which of course would be the case, the
quantity of heat developed by the shock would be 400
times greater." Now though this calculation

seems to be nothing to the purpose, since the Earth is

528 DISSOLUTION.

not likely to be suddenly arrested in its orbit and not likely
therefore suddenly to fall into tbe Sun ; yet^ as before pointed
out (§ 171)j there is a force at work which it is held must
at last bring the Earth into the Sun. This force is the re-
sistance of the ethereal medium. From ethereal resistance
is inferred a retardation of all moving bodies in the Solar
System — a retardation which certain astronomers contend
even now shows its effects in the relative nearness to one
another of the orbits of the older planets. If, then, retarda-
tion is going on, there must come a time, no matter how
remote, when the slowly diminishing orbit of the Earth will
end in the Sun ; and though the quantity of molar motion
to be then transformed into molecular motion, will not be
so great as that which the calculation of Helmholtz supposes,
it will be great enough to reduce the substance of the Earth
to a gaseous state.

This dissolution of the Earth, and, at intervals, of every
other planet, is not, however, a dissolution of the Solar
System. Viewed in their ensemhlej all the changes ex-
hibited throughout the Solar System, are incidents accom-
panying the integration of the entire matter composing it :
the local integration of which each planet is the scene,
completing itself long before the general integration is
complete. But each secondary mass having gone through
its evolution and reached a state of equilibrium among its
parts, thereafter, continues in its extinct state, until by the
still progressing general integration it is brought into the
central mass. And though each such union of a secondary
mass with the central mass, implying transformation of
molar motion into molecular motion, causes partial dif-
fusion of the total mass formed, and adds to the quantity of
motion that has to be dispersed in the shape of light and
heat ; yet it does but postpone the period at which the total
mass must become completely integrated, and its excess of
contained motion radiated into space.

DISSOLUTION. 52t)

* § 182. Here we come to tlie question raised at tlie close
of the last chapter — does Evolution as a whole, like Evolu-
tion in detail, advance towards complete quiescence ? Is
that motionless state called death, which ends Evolution in
organic bodies, typical of the universal death in which Evo-
lution at large must end ? And have we thus to contem-
plate as the outcome of things, a boundless space holding
here and there extinct suns, fated to remain for ever with-
out further change.

To so speculative an inquiry, none but a speculative
answer is to be expected. Such answer as may be ventured,
must be taken less as a positive answer than as a demurrer
to the conclusion that the proximate result must be the
ultimate result. If, pushing to its extreme the argument
that Evolution must come to a close in complete equilibrium
or rest, the reader suggests that for aught which appears to
the contrary, the Universal Death thus impHed will con-
tinue indefinitely, it is legitimate to point out how, on
carrying the argument still further, we are led to infer a
subsequent Universal Life. Let us see what may bo
assigned as grounds for inferring this.

It has been already shown that ' all equilibration, so far
as we can trace it, is relative. The dissipation of a body^s
motion by communication of it to surrounding matter, solid,
liquid, gaseous, and ethereal, brings the body to a fixe*"
position in relation to the matter that abstracts its motion.
But all its other motions continue. Further, this motion,
the disappearance of which causes relative equihbration, is
not lost but simply transferred. Whether it is directly
transformed into insensible motion, as happens in the case
of the Sun ; or, whether, as in the sensible motions going
on around us, it is' directly transformed into smaller sensible

* Thougli this chapter is new, this section, and the one following it, avr
not new. In the first edition they were included in the final section of tho
foregoing chapter. While substantially the same as before, the argument
has been in some places abbreviated ajid in other places enforced by addi-
tional matter.

530 DISSOLUTION.-

motions, and tliese into still smaller, until tliey become in-
sensible, matters not. In every instance the ultimate result
is, tbat "wliatever motion of masses is lost, re-appcars as
molecular motion pervading space. Thus tbe questions we
bave to consider, are — ^Wbetber after tbe completion of all
the relative equilibration's wbicb bring Evolution to a close,
tbere remain any further equilibrations to be eflected ? —
Wbetlier there are any other motions of masses that must
eventually be transformed into molecular motion ? — ^And if
there are such other motions, what must be the consequence
when the molecular motion generated by their transforma-
tion, is added to that which abeady exists ?

To the first of these questions the answer is, that there do
remain motions which are undiminished by all the relative
equilibrations we have considered ; namely, the motions of
translation possessed by those vast masses of matter called
stars — remote suns that are probably, like our own, sur-
rounded by circling groups of planets. The belief that the
stars are fixed, has long since been abandoned: observation
has proved many of them to have sensible proper motions.
Moreover, it has been ascertained by measurement that in
relation to the stars nearest to us, our own star travels at
the rate of about half a million miles per day ; and if, as is
admitted to be not improbable, our own star is moving in
the same direction with adjacent stars, its absolute velocity
may be, and most likely is, immensely greater than this.
Now no such changes as "those taking place within the Solar
System, even when carried to the extent of integrating the
whole of its naatter into one mass, and difiusing all its
relative motions in an insensible form through space, can
afiect these sidereal motions. Hence, there appears no alter-
native but to infer that they must remain to be equilibrated
by some subsequent process.

The next question that arises is — To what law do sidereal
motions conform? And to this question Astronomy replies —
the law of gravitation. The movements of binary stars havo

DISSOLUTION. 531

proved this. The periodic times of sundry binary stars have
been calculated on the assumption that their revolutions are
determined by a force like that which regulates the revolu-
tions -of planets and satellites ; and the subsequent perfor-
mances of their revolutions in the predicted periods^ have
verified the assumption. If, then^ these remote bodies are
centres of gravitation — if we infer that all other stars are
centres of gravitation, as we may fairly do — and if we draw
the unavoidable corollary, that the gravitative force which
so conspicuously affects stars that are near one another,
also affects remote stars ; we must conclude that all the
members of our Sidereal System gravitate, individually and
collectively.

But if these widely-dispersed moving masses mutually
gravitate, what must happen ? There appears but one ten-
able answer. They cannot preserve their present arrange-
ment : the irregular distribution of our Sidereal System
being such as to render even a temporary moving equi-
librium impossible. If the stars are centres of an attractive
force that varies inversely as the square of the distance,
there is no escape from the inference that the structure of
our galaxy is undergoing change, and must continue to
undergo change.

Thus, in the absence of tenable alternatives, we are
brought to the positions : — 1, that the stars are in motion ;
— 2, that they move in conformity with the law of gravita-
tion ; — 3, that, distributed as they are, they cannot move in
conformity with the law of gravitation, without under-
going re-arrangement. If now we ask the nature of this
re-arrangement, we find ourselves obliged to infer a pro-
gressive concentration. Stars at present dispersed, must
become locally aggregated ; existing aggregations (except-
ing, perhaps, the globular clusters) must grow more dense ;
and aggregations must coalesce with one another. That
integration has been progressing throughout past eras, we
found to be indicated by the structure of the heavens, in

532 DISSOLUTION.

general and in detail ; and of tlie extent to wliicli it has in
some places already gone^ remarkable instances are furnislied
by tlie Magellanic clouds — two closely-packed agglomera-
tions, not, indeed, of single stars only, but of single stars,
of clusters regular and irregular, of nebulae, and of diffused
nebulosity. Tbat these have been formed by mutual gi*avi-
tation of parts once widely scattered, there is evidence in
the barrenness of the surrounding celestial spaces : the nu.
becula minor, especially, being seated, as Humboldt says,
in ^^ a kind of starless desert/'

"What must be the limit of such concentrations? The
mutual attraction of two stars, when it so far predominates
over other attractions as to cause approximation, almost
certainly ends in the formation of a binary star; since the
motions generated by other attractions prevent the two
stars from moving in straight lines to their common centre
of gravity. Between small clusters, too, having also certain
proper motions as clusters, mutual attraction may lead, not
to complete union, but to the formation of binary clusters.
As the process continues, however, and the clusters become
larger, they must move more directly towards each other :
thus forming clusters of increasing density. While, there-
fore, during the earlier stages of concentration, the pro-
babilities are immense against the actual contact of these
mutually-gravitating masses ; it is tolerably manifest that,
as the concentration increases, collision must become
probable, and ultimately certain. This is an inference not
lacking the support of high authority. Sir John Herschcl,
treating of those numerous and variously - aggregated
clusters of stars revealed by the telescope, and citing with
apparent approval his father's opinion, that the more diffused
and irregular of these, are " globular clusters in a less ad-
vanced state of condensation /' subsequently remarks, that
'' among a crowd of solid bodies of whatever size, animated
by independent and partially opposing impulses, motions op-
posite to each other must produce collision, destruction of

DISSOLUTION. boo

Telocity^ and subsidence or near approacli towards tlie
centre of preponderant attraction ; wMle tliose wliicli con-
Bpire, or wliicli remain outstanding after such, conflicts,
must ultimately give rise to circulation of a permanent
character/^ Now what is here alleged of these minor
clusters, cannot be denied of larger clusters ; and thus the
above-inferred process of concentration, appears certain to
bring about an increasingly-frequent integration of masses.
We have next to consider the consequences of the accom-
panying loss of velocity. The sensible motion which disap-
pears cannot be destroyed, but must be transformed into
insensible motion. "What will be the effect of this insensible
motion ? Already we have seen that were the Earth ar-
rested, dissipation of its substance would result. And if
BO relatively small a momentum as that acquired by the
Earth in falling to the Sun, would be equivalent to a mole-
cular motion sufficient to reduce the Earth to gases of ex-
treme rarity ; what must be the molecular motion generated
by the mutually-arrested momenta of two stars, that have
moved to their common centre of gravity through spaces
immeasurably greater ? There seems no alternative but to
conclude, that it would be great enough to reduce the
matter of the stars to an almost inconceivable tenuity — a te-
nuity like that which we ascribe to nebular matter. Such
being the immediate effect, what would be the ulterior effect ?
Sir John Herschel, in the passage above quoted, describing
the collisions that must arise in a concentrating group of
stars, adds that those stars ''which remain outstanding
after such conflicts must ultimately give rise to circula-
tion of a permanent character.'^ The problem, however, is
here dealt with purely as a mechanical one : the assump-
tion being that the mutually-arrested masses will con-
tinue as masses — an assumption to which no objection ap-
peared at the time when Sir John Herschel wrote this
passage ; since the correlation of forces was not then re-
cognized. But obliged as we now are to conclude, that

53 1 DISSOLUTION.

stars moving at the higli velocities acquired during concen-
tration, will, by mutual arrest, be dissipated into gases, tlie
problem becomes different ; and a different inference seems
unavoidable. For the diffused matter produced by such con-
flicts must form a resisting medium, occupying that central
region of the cluster through which its members from time
to time pass in describing their orbits — a resisting medium
which they cannot move through without having their velo-
cities diminished. Every additional collision, by augment-
ing this resisting medium, and making the losses of velocity
greater, must aid in preventing the establishment of that
equilibrium which would else arise j and so must conspire
to. produce more frequent collisions. And the nebulous
matter thus formed, presently enveloping the whole cluster,
must, by continuing to shorten the gyrations of the moving
masses, entail an increasingly active integration and re-
active disintegration of them; until they are all dissi-
pated. Whether this process completes itself inde-
pendently in different parts of our Sidereal System ; or
whether it completes itself only by aggregating the whole
matter of our Sidereal System ; or whether, as seems not
unlikely, local integrations and disintegrations run their
courses while the general integration is going on ; are ques-
tions that need noli be discussed. In any case the conclu-
sion to be drawn is, that the integration must continue until
the conditions which bring about disintegration are reached;
and that there must then ensue a diffusion that undoes the
preceding concentration. This, indeed, is the con-
clusion which presents itself as a deduction from the persist-
ence of force. If stars concentrating to a common centre ol
gravity, eventually reach it, then the quantities of motior
they have acquired must suffice to carry them away again tc
those remote regions whence they started. And since, by tlif
conditions of the case, they cannot return to these remote
regions in the shape of concrete masses, they must return
in the shape of diffused masses. Action and reaction being

DISSOLUTION. 535

equal and opposite, tlie momentum producing dispersion,
must be as great as tKe momentum acquired by aggregation;
and being spread over tlie same quantity of matter, must
cause an equivalent distribution tlirougb space, whatever be
tbe form of tlie matter. One condition, however,

essential to the literal fulfilment of this result, must be
specified; namely, that the quantity of molecular motion
radiated into space by each star in the course of its forma-
tion from difiused matter, shall either not escape from our
Sidereal System or shall be compensated by an equal quan-
tity of molecular motion radiated from other parts of space
into our Sidereal System. In other words, if we set out
with that amount of molecular motion implied by the exist-
ence of the matter of our Sidereal System in a nebulous
form; then it follows from the persistence of force, that if
this matter undergoes the re-distribution constituting Evo-
lution, the quantity of molecular motion given out during
the integration of each mass, plus the quantity of molecular
motion given out during the integration of all the masses,
must suffice again to reduce it to the same nebulous form.

Here, indeed, we arrive at a barrier to our reasonings ;
since we cannot know whether this condition is or is not
fulfilled. If the ether which fills the interspaces of our
Sidereal System has a limit somewhere beyond the outer-
most stars, then it is inferrable that motion is not lost by
radiation beyond this limit ; and if ^o, the original degree
of difi'usion may be resumed. Or supposing the ethereal
medium to have no such limit, yet, on the hypothesis of an
unlimited space, containing, at certain intervals. Sidereal
Systems like our own, it may be that the quantity of mole-
cular motion radiated into the region occupied by our
Sidereal System, is equal to that which our Sidereal
System radiates; in which case the quantity of motion
possessed by it, remaining undiminished, it may continue
during unlimited time its alternate concentrations and dif-
fusions. But if, on the other hand, throughout boundless

^'^Q DISSOLUTION.

Bpace filled with ether, tliere exist no otlicr Sidereal Sys-
tems subject to like clianges, or if such other Sidereal
Systems exist at more than a certain average distance from
one another ; then it seems an unavoidable conclusion that
the quantity of motion possessed, must diminish by radia-
tion; and that so, on each successive resumption of the
nebulous form, the matter of our Sidereal System will
occupy a less space ; until it reaches either a state in which
its concentrations and diffusions aro relatively small, or a
state of complete aggregation and rest. Since, however,
we have no- evidence showing the existence or non-existenco
of Sidereal Systems throughout remote space; and since,
even had we such evidence, a legitimate conclusion could
not be drawn from premises of which one element (un-
limited space) is inconceivable ; we must be for ever without
answer to this transcendent question.

But confining ourselves to the proximate and not neces-
sarily insoluble question, we find reason for thinking that
after tho completion of those various equilibrations which
bring to a close all the forms of Evolution we have contem-
plated, there must continue an equilibration of a far wider
kind. "When that integration everywhere in progress
throughout our Solar System has reached its climax, there
will remain to be effected the immeasureably greater inte-
gration of our Solar System, with other such systems.
There must then re-appear in molecular motion what is lost
in the motion of masses ; and the inevitable transformation
of this motion of masses into molecular motion, cannot take
place without reducing tho masses to a nebulous form,

§ 183. Thus wo are led to tho conclusion that tho
entire process of things, as displayed in tho aggregate of
the visible Universe, is analogous to the entire process of
things as displayed in tho smallest aggregates.

Motion as well as Matter being fixed in quantity, it would
seem that the change in tho distribution of Matter which

DISSOLUTION. 637

Motion effects^ coming to a limit in wliicliever direction it
is carried^ tlie indestructible Motion thereupon necessitates
a reverse distribution. Apparently, tbe universally-co-
existent forces of attraction and repulsion, wldcli, as we
Lave seen, necessitate rbytlim in aU minor cbanges tlirougli-
out tlie Universe, also necessitate rbytlun in tlie totality of
its cbanges — produce now an immeasureable period during
whicb. tbe attre^ctive forces predominating, cause universal
concentration, and tben an immeasureable period during
which the repulsive forces predominating, cause universal
diffusion — alternate eras of Evolution and Dissolution. And
thus there is suggested the conception of a past during
which there have been successive Evolutions analogous to
that which is now going on j and a future during which
successive other such Evolutions may go on — ever the same
in principle but never the same in concrete result-

CnAPTER XXIV.

SUMMARY AND CONCLUSION.

§ 184. At tlie close of a work like tkis, it is more than
usually needful to contemplate as a whole tliat wkick tke
successive chapters kave presented in parts. A cokerent
knowledge implies sometking more tlian tke estakkskmcnt
of connexions ; we mnst not rest after seeing kow eack
minor group of trutks falls into its place witkin some major
group^ and kow all tke major groups fit togetker. It is
requisite tkat we skould retire a space, and, looking at tko
entire structure from a distance at wkick details are lost to
view, observe its general ckaracter.

Sometking more tkan recapitulation — sometking more
even tkan an organized re-statement, will come witkin tke
scope of tke ckapter. We skall find tkat in tkeir ensemble
tke general trutks reacked exhibit, under certain aspects, a
oneness not kitkerto observed.

Tkere is, too, a special reason for noting kow tke various
divisions and sub-divisions of tke argument consolidate;
namely, tkat tke tkeory at large tkeroby obtains a final
illustration. Tke reduction of tke generalizations tkat liave
been set fortk to a completely integrated state, exemplifies
once more tke process of Evolution, and strengtkens still
furtker tke general fabric of conclusions.

§ 185. Hero, indeed, we find ourselves brougkt round

SUMMARY AND CONCLUSION. 539

nnexpectedly, and very significantly, to the tnitli with, wliicli
we set outj and with which our re-survey must commence.
For this integrated form of knowledge is the form which,
apart from the doctrine of Evolution, we decided to be the
highest form.

^Vhen we inquired what constitutes Philosophy — ^whcn
we compared men's various conceptions of Philosophy, so
that, ehminating the elements in which they difiered we
might see in what they agreed ; we found in them all, the
tacit implication that Philosophy is completely unified know-
ledge. Apart from each particular scheme of unified know-
ledge, and apart from the proposed methods by which
unification is to be effeoted, we traced in every case the belief
that unification is possible, and that the end of Philosophy
is the achievement of it.

Accepting this conclusion, we went on to consider the
data with which Philosophy must set out. Fundamental
propositions, or propositions not deducible from deeper
ones, can be established only by showing the complete
congruity of all the results reached through the assumption
of them; and, premising that they were assumed till so
established, we took as our data, those organized com-
ponents of our intelligence without which there cannot
go on the mental processes implied by philosophizing.

From the specification of these we passed to certain
primary truths — " The Indestruct ibihty of Matter," ^' The
Continuity of Motion,'' and ^^ The Persistence of Force ; "
of which the last is ultimate and the others derivative.
Having previously seen that our experiences of Matter and
Motion are resolvable into experiences of Force ; we further
Baw the truths that Matter and Motion are unchangeable in
quantity, to be implications of the truth that Force is un-
changeable in quantity. This we discovered is the truth
by derivation from which all other truths are to be proved.

The first of the truths which presented itself to be so
proved, was "The Persistence of the Relations among

540 SUMMARY AND CONCLUSION.

Forces." Thisj wMcli is ordinarily called Uniformity of
Law^ we found to be a necessary implication of the fact tliat
Force can neither arise out of nothing nor lapse into
nothing.

The deduction next drawn, was that forces which seem to
be lost are transformed into their equivalents of other forces ;
or, conversely, that forces which become manifest, do so by
disappearance of pre-existing equivalent forces. Of these
truths we found illustrations in the motions of the heavenly
bodies, in the changes going on over the Earth's surface,
and in all organic and super-organic actions.

It turned out to be the same with the law that everything
moves along the line of least resistence, or the line of
greatest traction, or their resultant. Among movements of
all orders, from those of stars down to those of nervous dis-
charges and commercial currents, it was shown both that
this is so, and that, given the Persistence of Force, it must
be so.

So, too, we saw it to be with ^' The Rhythm of Motion."
All motion alternates — ^be it the motion of planets in their
orbits or ethereal molecules in their undulations — ^be it the
cadences of speech or the rises and falls of prices ; and, as
before, it became manifest that Force being persistent, this
perpetual reversal of Motion between limits is inevitable.

§ 186. These truths holding of all existences, were
recognized as of the kind required to constitute what we
distinguished as Philosophy. But, on considering them, we
perceived that as they stand they do not form anything like
a Philosophy ; and that a Philosophy cannot be formed by
any number of such truths separately known. Each such
truth expresses the general law of some one factor by which
phenomena, as we habitually experience them, are pro-
duced; or, at most, expresses the law of co-operation of
some two factors. But knowing what are the elements of a
process, is not knowing how these elements combine to

8UMMAET AND CONCLUSION. . 641

effect it. That wMcli alone can unify knowledge must be
the law of co-operation of all the factors — a law expressing
simultaneously the complex antecedents and the complex
consequents which any phenomenon as a whole presents.

A further inference was that Philosophy,, as we under-
stand it, must not unify separate concrete phenomena only ;
and must not stop short with unifying separate classes of
concrete phenomena; but must unify all concrete pheno-
mena. If the law of operation of each factor holds true
throughout the Cosmos ; so, too, must the law of their co-
operation. And hence in comprehending the Cosmos as
conforming to this law of co-operation, muse consist that'
highest unification which Philosophy seeks.

Descending from this abstract statement to a concrete
one, we saw that the law sought must be the law of the
continuous re-distribution of Matter and Motion. The
changes everywhere going on, from those which are slowly
altering the structure of our galaxy down to those which
constitute a chemical decomposition, are changes in the
Fclative positions of component parts; and everywhere
necessarily imply that along with a new arrangement of
Matter there has arisen a new arrangement of Motion.
Hence we may be certain, a jpriori, that there must be a
law of the concomitant re-distribution of Matter and
Motion, which holds of every change ; and which, by thus
unifying all changes, must be the basis of a Philosophy.

In commencing our search for this universal law of re-
distribution, we contemplated from another point of view
the problem of Philosophy ; and saw that its solution could
not but be of the nature indicated. It was shown that a
Philosophy stands self-convicted of inadequacy, if it does
not formulate the whole series of changes passed through
by every existence in its passage from the imperceptible to
the perceptible and again from the perceptible to the im-
perceptible. If it begins its explanations with existences
that already have concrete forms, or leaves off vrhile they.

542 BUMMAEY AND CONCLUSION.

still retain concrete forms ; tlien, manifestly, they tad pre-
ceding liistories, or will liave succeeding liistories, or both,
of which no account is given. And as such preceding and
succeeding histories are subjects of possible knowledge, a
Philosophy which says nothing about them, falls short of the
required unification. Whence we saw it to follow that
the formula sought, equally applicable to existences taken
singly and in their totality, must be applicable to the whole
history of each and to the whole history of all.

By these considerations we were brought within view
of the formula. For if it had to comprehend the entii-e
progress from the imperceptible to the perceptible and
from the perceptible to the imperceptible ; and if it was
also to express the continuous re-distribution of Matter
and Motion ; then, obviously, it could be no other than one
defining the opposite processes of concentration and difi'usion
in terms of Matter and Motion. And if so, it must be a
statement of the truth that the concentration of Matter
implies the dissipation of Motion, and that, conversely, the
absorption of Motion implies the difiusion of Matter.

Such, in fact, we found to be the law of the entire cycle of
changes passed through by every existence — ^loss of motion
and consequent integration, eventually followed by gain of
motion and consequent disintegration. And we saw that
besides applying to the whole history of each existence, it
applies to each detail of the history. Both processes are
going on at every instant ; but always there is a difierential
result in favour of the first or the second. And every
change, even though it be only a transposition of parts,
inevitably advances the one process or the other.

Evolution and Dissolution, as we name these opposite
transformations, though thus truly defined in their most
general characters, are but incompletely defined ; or rather,
while the definition of Dissolution is sufficient, the definition
of Evolution is extremely insufficient. Evolution is always
an integration of Matter and dissipation of Motion ; but it

6UMMAET AND CONCLUSION. 643

is in most cases miicli more tHan this. The primary re-
distribution of Matter and Motion is usually accompanied
by secondary re-distributions.

Distinguishing the different kinds of Evolution so pro-
duced as simple and compound, we went on to consider
under what conditions the secondary re-distributions which
make Evolution compound, take place. We found that a
concentrating aggregate which loses its contained motion
rapidly, or integrates quickly, exhibits only simple Evolu-
tion ; but in proportion as its largeness, or the peculiar con-
stitution of its components, hinders the dissipation of its
motion, its parts, while undergoing that primary re-distribu-
tion which results in integration, undergo secondary re-
distributions producing more or less complexity.

§ 187. From this conception of Evolution and Dissolution
as together making up the entire process through which
things pass; and from this conception of Evolution as
dividing into simple and compound ; we went on to consider
the law of Evolution, as exhibited among all orders of
existences, in general and in detail.

The integration of Matter and concomitant dissipation of
Motion, was traced not in each whole only, but in the parts
into which each whole divides. By the aggregate Solar
System, as well as by each planet and satellite, progressive
concentration has been, and is stiU being, exemphfied. In
each organism that -general incorporation of dispersed
materials which causes growth, is accompanied by local in-
corporations, forming what we call organs. Every society
while it displays the aggregative process by its increasing
mass of population, displays it also by the rise of dense
masses in special parts of its area. And in all cases, along
with these direct integrations there go the indirect in-
tegrations by which parts are made mutually dependent.

From this primary re«distribution we were led on to
consider the secondary re-distributions^ by inquiring how

544 SUMMAEY AND CONCLUSION.

there came to be a formation of parts during tlie formation
of a whole. It turned out tliat there is habitually a passage
from homogeneity to heterogeneity^ along with the passage
from diffusion to concentration. "While the matter com-
posing the Solar system has been assuming a denser form, it
, has changed from unity to variety of distribution. Sol-
idification of the Earth has been accompanied by a progress
from comparative uniformity to extreme multiformity. In
the course of its advance from a germ to a mass of relatively
great bulk, every plant and animal also advances from
simplicity to complexity. The increase of a society in
numbers and consolidation has for its concomitant an in-
creased heterogeneity both of its political and its industrial
organization. And the like holds of all super- organic pro-
ducts— Language, Science, Art, and Literature.

But we saw that these secondary re-distributions are not
thus completely expressed. At the same time that the parts
into which each whole is resolved become more unlike one
another, they also become more sharply marked off. The
result of the secondary re-distributions is therefore to change
an indefinite homogeneity into a definite heterogeneity.
This additional trait also we found to be traceable in evolving
aggregates of all orders. Further consideration, however,,
made it apparent that the increasing definiteness which goes
along with increasing heterogeneity, is not an independent
trait; but that it results from the integration which pro-
gresses in each of the differentiating parts, while it pro-
grosses in the whole they form.

Further, it was pointed out that in all evolutions,
inorganic, organic, and super-organic, this change in the
arrangement of Matter is accompanied by a parallel change
in the arrangement of Motion : every increase in structural
complexity involving a corresponding increase in func-
tional complexity. It was shown that along with the
integration of molecules into masses, there arises an integra-
tion of molecular motion into the motion of masses ; and

SUMMAEY AND CONCLUSION. 545

ttat as fast as tliere results variety in tlie sizes and forms of
aggregates and tlieir relations to incident forces^ tliere also
results variety in tlieir movements.

The transformation tlius contemplated under separate
aspects, being in itself but one transformation, it became
needful to unite these separate aspects into a single concep-
tion— to regard the primary and secondary re-distributions
as simultaneously working their various effects. Every-
where the change from a confused simplicity to a distinct
complexity, in the distribution of both matter and motion,
is incidental to the consolidation of the matter and the loss
of its motion. Hence the re- distribution of the matter and
of its retained motion, is from a diffused, uniform, and in-
determinate arrangement, to a concentrated, multiform, and
determinate arrangement,

§ 188. We come now to one of the additions that may be
made to the general argument while summing it up. Here
is the fit occasion for observing a higher degree of unity in
the foregoing inductions, than we observed while making
them.

The law of Evolution has been thus far contemplated as
holding true of each order of existences, considered as a
separate order. But the induction as so presented, falls
short of that completeness which it gains when we con-
template these several orders of existences as forming
together one natural whole. While we think of Evolution
as divided into astronomic, geologic, biologic, psychologic,
sociologic, &c., it may seem to a certain extent a coincidence
that the same law of metamorphosis holds throughout all its
divisions. But when we recognize these divisions as mere
conventional groupings, made to facilitate the arrangement
and acquisition of knowledge — when we regard the different
existences with which they severally deal as component
parts of one Cosmos; we see at once that there are not
several kinds of Evolution having certain traits in common,

516 SUMMARY AND CONCLUSIOH.

but one Evolution going on everywhere after the same
manner. We have repeatedly observed that while any
whole is evolving, there is always going on an evolution Oi"
the parts into which it divides itself; but we have not
observed that this equally holds of the totality of things, as
made up of parts within parts from the greatest down to
the smallest. We know that while a physically-cohering
aggregate like the human body is getting larger and taking
on its general shape, each of its organs is doing the same ;
that while each organ is growing and becoming unlike
others, there is going on a differentiation and integration
of its component tissues and vessels; and that even the
components of these components are severally increasing
and passing into more definitely heterogeneous structures.
But we have not duly remarked that, setting out with the
human body as a minute part, and ascending from it to
greater parts, this simultaneity of transformation is equally
manifest — that while each individual is developing, the
society of which he is an insignificant unit is developing
too ; that while the aggregate mass forming a society is
becoming more definitely heterogeneous, so likewise is that
total aggregate, the Earth, of which the society is an in-
appreciable portion ; that while the Earth, which in bulk is
not a millionth of the Solar System, progresses towards its
concentrated and complex structure, the Solar System
similarly progresses; and that even its transformations
are but those of a scarcely appreciable portion of our
Sidereal System, which has at the same time been going
through parallel changes.

So understood. Evolution becomes not one in principle
only, but one in fact. There are not many metamorphoses
similarly carried on ; but there is a single metamorphosis
universally progressing, wherever the reverse metamorphosis
has not set in. In any locality, great or small, throughout
space, where the occupying matter acquires an appreciable
individuality, or distinguishableness from other matter, there

SUMMARY AND CONCLUSION. 647

Evolution goes on ; or rather, tlie acquirement of this ap-
preciable individuality is the commencement of Evolution.
And this holds uniformly; regardless of the size of the aggre-
gate, regardless of its inclusion in other aggregates, and
regardless of the wider evolutions within which its own is
comprehended.

§ 189. After making them, we saw that the inductions
which, taken together, establish the law of Evolution, do
not, so long as they remained inductions, form coherent
parts of that whole rightly named Philosophy; nor does
even the foregoing passage of these inductions from agree-
ment into identity, suffice to produce the unity sought.
For, as was pointed out at the time, to unify the truths
thus reached with other truths, it is requisite to deduce
them from the Persistence of Force. Our n^xt step, there-
fore, was to show why. Force being persistent, the trans-
formation which Evolution shows us necessarily results.

The first conclusion arrived at was, that any finite
homogeneous aggregate must inevitably lose its homo-
geneity, through the unequal exposure of its parts to
incident forces. It was pointed out that the production
of diversities of structure by diverse forces, and forces
acting under diverse conditions, has been illustrated in
astronomic evoluti6n ; and that a like connection of cause
and effect is seen in the large and small modifications
undergone by our globe. The early changes of crganic
germs supplied further evidence that unlikenesses of struc-
ture follow unlikenesses of relations to surrounding agencies
— evidence enforced by the tendency of the difierently-
placed members of each species to diverge into varieties.
And we found that the contrasts, political and industrial,
which arise between the parts of societies, serve to illus-
trate the same principle. The instability of the homo-
geneous thus everywhere exemplified, we also saw holds
in each of the distinguishable parts into which any uniform

548 SUMMARY AND CONCLUSION.

whole lapses ; and tliat so the less heterogeneous tends con-
tinually to become more heterogeneous.

A further step in the inquiry disclosed a secondary cause
of increasing multiformity. Every differentiated part is
not simply a seat of further differentiations^ but also a parent
of further differentiations; since, in growing unlike other
parts, it becomes a centre of unhke reactions on incident
forces, and by so adding to the diversity of forces at work,
adds to the diversity of effects produced. This multiplica-
tion of effects proved to be similarly traceable throughout
all Nature— in the actions and reactions that go on through-
out the Solar System, in the never-ceasing geologic com-
plications, in the involved symptoms produced in organisms
by disturbing influences, in the many thoughts and feelings
generated by single impressions, and in the ever-ramifying
results of each new agency brought to bear on a society.
To which was added the corollary, confirmed by abundant
facts, that the "multiplication of effects advances in a
geometrical progression along with advancing heterogeneity.

Completely to interpret the structural changes constitut-
ing Evolution, there remained to assign a reason for that
increasingly-distinct demarcation of parts, which accom-
panies the production of differences among parts. This
reason we discovered to be, the segregation of mixed units
under the action of forces capable of moving them. Wo
saw that when unlike incident forces have made the parts
of an aggregate unlike in the natures of their component
units, there necessarily arises a tendency to separation of
the dissimilar units from one another, and to a clustering of
those units which are similar. This cause of the local inte-
grations that accompany local differentiations, turned out to
be likewise exemplified by all kinds of Evolution — ^by the
formation of celestial bodies, by the moulding of the Earth's
crust, by organic modifications, by the establishment of
mental distinctions, by the genesis of social divisions.

At length, to the auery whether these processes have any

SITMMAEY AND CONCLUSION. 649

limit, there came tlie answer that they must end in equili-
brium. That continual division and subdivision of forces^
which changes the uniform into the multiform and the
multiform into the more multiform,, is a process by which
forces are perpetually dissipated ; and dissipation of them,
continuing as long as there remain any forces unbalanced by
opposing forces, must end in rest. It was shown that
when, as happens in aggregates of various orders, many
movements are going on together, the earlier dispersion
of the smaller and more resisted movements, estabHshes
moving equilibria of different kinds : forming transitional
stages on the way to complete equilibrium. And further
inquiry made it apparent that for the same reason, these
moving equilibria have certain self- conserving powers;
shown in the neutralization of perturbations, and the adjust-
ment to new conditions. This general principle of equili-
bration, like the preceding general principles, was traced
throughout all forms of Evolution — astronomic, geologic,
biologic, mental and social. And our concluding inference
was, that the penultimate stage of equilibration, in which the
extremest multiformity and most complex moving equili-
brium are established, must be one implying the highest con-
ceivable state of humanity.

But the fact which it here chiefly concerns us to remember,
is that each of these laws of the re-distribution of Matter
and Motion, was found to be a derivative law — a law de-
ducible from the fundamental law. The Persistence of
Force being granted, there follow as inevitable inferences
" The Instability of the Homogeneous-'^ and '* The Multiplica-
tion of Effects ;'' while '^Segregation" and '^ Equilibration"
also become corollaries. And thus discovering that the
processes of change formulated under these titles are so
many different- aspects of one transformation, determined
by an ultimate necessity, we arrive at a complete unification
of them — a synthesis in which Evolution in general and in
detail becomes known as an implication of the law that

550 SUMMAET AND CONCLUSION.

fcranscends proof. Moreover^ in becoming thus unified witli
one another, tlie complex truths of Evolution become simul-
taneously unified with those simpler truths shown to have a
like afiiliation — the equivalence of transformed forces, the
movement of every mass and molecule along its line of least
resistance, and the limitation of its motion by rhythm.
Which further unification brings us to a conception of
the entire plexus of changes presented by each concrete
phenomenon, and by the aggregate of concrete phenomena,
as a manifestation of one fundamental fact — a fact shown
alike in the total change and in all the separate changes
composing it.

§ 190. Finally we turned to contemplate, as exhibited
throughout Nature, that process of Dissolution which forms
the complement of Evolution ; and which inevitably, at
some time or other, undoes what Evolution has done.

Quickly following the arrest of Evolution in aggregates
that are unstable, and following it at periods often long
delayed but reached at last in the stable aggregates around
us, we saw that even to the vast aggregate of which all
these are parts — even to the Earth as a whole — ^Dissolution
must eventually arrive. ISTay we even saw grounds for the
belief that the far vaster masses dispersed at almost im-
measurable intervals through space, will, at a time beyond
the reach of finite imaginations, share the same fate ; and
that so universal Evolution will be followed by universal
Dissolution — a conclusion which, like those preceding it,
we saw to be deducible from the Persistence of Force.

It may be added that in so unifying the phenomena of
Dissolution with those of Evolution, as being manifestations
of the same ultimate law under opposite conditions, we also
unify the phenomena presented by the existing Universe
with the like phenomena that have preceded them and will
succeed them — so far, at least, as such unification is possible
to our limited intelligences. For if, as we saw reason to

SUlIilAET AND CONCLUSIOX. 551

tliink, tliere is an alternation of Evolution and Dissolution
in the totality of things — if, as we are obliged to infer from
the Persistence of Force, the arrival at either limit of this
vast rhythm brings about the conditions under which a
counter-movement commences — if we are hence compelled
to entertain the conception of Evolutions that have filled
an immeasurable past and Evolutions that will fill an im-
measurable future; we can no longer contemplate the
visible creation as having a definite beginning or end, or
as being isolated. It becomes unified with all existence
before and after ; and the Force which the Universe pre-
sents, falls into the same category with its Space and Time^
as admitting of no limitation in thought.

§ 191. So rounding off the argument, we find its result
brought into complete coalescence with the conclusion
reached in Part I. ; where, independently of any inquiry like
the foregoing, we dealt with the relation between the
Knowable and the Unknowable.

It was there shown by analysis of both our religious and
our scientific ideas, that while knowledge of the cause which
produces effects on our consciousness is impossible, the
existence of a cause for these effects is a datum of con-
ficiousness. We saw that the belief in a Power of which
no limit in Time or Space can be conceived, is that funda-
mental element in Eeligion which survives all its changes
of form. We saw that all Philosophies avowedly or tacitly
recognize this same ultimate truth : — that while the Eela-
tivist rightly repudiates those definite assertions which
the Absolutist makes respecting existence transcend-
ing perception, he is yet at last compelled to unite with
him in predicating existence transcending perception. And
this inexpugnable consciousness in which Eeligion and
Philosophy are at one with Common Sense, proved to be
likewise that on which all exact Science is based. We
found that subjective Science can give no account of those

552 8UMMAEY AKB CONCLUSION.

conditioned modes of being wliicli constitute consciousness;
without postulating unconditioned being. And wo found
lliat objective Science can give no account of tbe world
wliicli we know as external, without regarding its changes
of form as manifestations of something that continues con-
stant under all forms. This is also the implication to which
we are now led back by our completed synthesis. The
recognition of a persistent Force, ever changing its mani-
festations but unchanged in quantity throughout all past
time and all future time, is that which we find alone makes
possible each concrete interpretation, and at last unifies all
concrete interpretations. Not, indeed, that this coincidence
adds to the strength of the argument as a logical structure.
Our synthesis has proceeded by taking for granted at every
step this ultimate truth; and the ultimate truth cannot,
therefore, be regarded as in any sense an outcome of the
synthesis. Nevertheless, the coincidence yields a verifica-
tion. For when treating of the data of Philosophy, it was
pointed out that we cannot take even a first step without
making assumptions ; and that the only course is to proceed
with them as provisional, until they are proved true by the
congruity of all the results reached. This congruity we
here see to be perfect and all-embracing — ^holding through-
out that entire structure of definite consciousness of rela-
tions which we call Knowledge, and harmonizing with it
that indefinite consciousness of existence transcending re-
lations which forms the essence of Religion.

§ 192. Towards some result of this order, inquiry, scien-
tific, metaphysical, and theological, has been, and still ia^
manifestly advancing. The coalescence of polytheistic
conceptions into the monotheistic conception, and the
reduction of the monotheistic conception to a more and
more general form in which personal superintendence be-
comes merged in universal immanence, clearly shows this
advance. It is equally shown in the fading away of old

SUMMARY AND CONCLUSION. 553

fchcories about '^essences/' '^potentialities/' '^ occult vir-
tues/' &c.; in tlie abandonment of such, doctrines as tboso
of " Platonic Ideas/' " Pre-establisbed Harmonies/' and the
like ; and in the tendency towards tbe identification ot
Being as present to us in consciousness, witb. Being as
otherwise conditioned beyond consciousness. Still more
conspicuous is it in the progress of Science ; wbicb, from
tbe beginning bas been grouping isolated facts under laws,
uniting special laws under more general laws, and so reach-
ing on to laws of bigber and bigber generality; until tbe
conception of universal laws bas become familiar to it.

Unification being tbus tbe cbaracteristic of developing
tbougbt of all kinds, and eventual arrival at unity being
fairly inferable, tbere arises yet a furtber support to our
conclusion. Since, unless tbere is some otber and bigber
unity, tbe unity we bave reacbed must be tbat towards wbicb
developing tbougbt tends ; and tbat tbere is any otber and
bigber unity is scarcely supposable. Having grouped tbe
cbanges wbicb all orders of existences display into induc-
tions; baving merged tbese inductions into a single
induction; baving interpreted tbis induction deductively;
baving seen tbat tbe ultimate trutb from wbicb it is deduced
is one transcending proof; it seems, to say tbe least, v^ry
improbable tbat tbere can be establisbed a fundamentally
difierent way of unifying tbat entire process of tbing
wbicb Pbilosopby bas to interpret. Tbat tbe foregoing
accumulated verifications are all illusive, or tbat an opposing
doctrine can sbow a greater accumulation of verifications, is
not easy to conceive.

Let no one suppose tbat any sucb implied degree of
trustwortbiness is alleged of tbe various minor propositions
brougbt in illustration of tbe general argument. Sucb an
assumption would be so manifestly absurd, tbat it seen.'^
scarcely needful to disclaim it. But tbe trutb of tbe doctrine
as a wbole, is unafiected by errors in tbe details of its pre-
sentation. If it can be sbown tbat tbe Persistence of Force
25

554 SUMMARY AND CONCLUSION.

is not a datum of consciousness; or if it can be sliown
that tte several laws of force above specified are not corol-
laries from it ; or if it can be sliown that,, given these laws,
tlie re-distribution of Matter and Motion docs not neces-
sarily proceed as described ; then, indeed, it will be shown
that the theory of Evolution has not the high warrant here
claimed for it. But nothing short of this can shake the
general conclusions arrived at.

§ 193. If these conclusions be accepted — if it be agreed
that the phenomena going on everywhere are parts of the
general process of Evolution, save where they are parts of
the reverse process of Dissolution ; then we may infer that
all phenomena receive their complete interpretation, only
when recognized as parts of these processes. Whence it
follows that the limit towards which Knowledge is advanc-
ing, must be reached when the formulae of these processes
are so applied as to yield a total and specific interpretation
of each phenomenon in its entirety, as well as of phenomena
in general.

The partially-unified knowledge distinguished as Science,
does not yet include such total interpretations. Either,
as in the more complex sciences, the progress is almost ex-
clusively inductive ; or, as in the simpler sciences, the de-
ductions are concerned with the component phenomena ;
and at present there is scarcely a consciousness that the
ultimate task is the deductive interpretation of phenomena
in their state of composition. The Abstract Sciences, deal-
ing with the forms under which phenomena are presented,
and the Abstract-Concrete Sciences, dealing with the factors
by which phenomena are produced, are, philosophically con-
sidered, the handmaids of the Concrete Sciences, which
deal with the produced phenomena as existing in all their
natural complexity. The laws of the forms and the laws of
the factors having been ascertained, there then comes the
business of ascertaining the laws of the products, as deter-

SUMMARY AND CONCLUSION. 655

mined by the inter-action of tlie co-operative factors. Given
the Persistence of Force^ and given tlie various derivative
laws of Force,, and there has to be shown not only how
the actual existences of the inorganic world necessarily
exhibit the traits they do, but how there necessarily result
the more numerous and involved traits exhibited by organic
and super-organic existences — how an organism is evolved ?
what is the genesis of human intelligence ? whence social
progress arises ?

It is evident that this development of Knowledge
into an organized aggregate of direct and indirect deduc-
tions from the Persistence of Force, can be achieved only
in the remote future ; and, indeed, cannot be completely
achieved even then. Scientific progress is progress in that
equilibration of thought and things which we saw is going
on, and must continue to go on ; but which cannot arrive
at perfection in any finite period. Still, though Science can
never be entirely reduced to this form ; and though only at
a far distant time can it be brought nearly to this form ;
much may even now be done in the way of approximation.

Of course, what may now be done, can be done but very
imperfectly by any single individual. No one can possess
that encyclopedic information required for rightly organizing
even the truths already established. Nevertheless as pro-
gress is efiected by increments — as all organization, begin-
ning in faint and blurred outlines, is completed by successive
modifications and additions ; advantage may accrue from an
attempt, however rude, to reduce the facts now accumulated
— or rather certain classes of them — to something like co-
ordination. Such must be the plea for the several volumes
which are to succeed this; dealing with the respective
divisions of what we distinguished at the outset as Special
Philosophy.

§ 194. A few closing words must be said, concerning the
general bearings of the doctrines that are now to be further

656 SUMMARY AND CONCLUSION.

developed. Before proceeding to interpret tlio detailed
phenomena of Life^ and Mind, and Society, in terms of
Matter,, Motion, and Force, tlie reader must be reminded in
wliat sense tlie interpretations are to be accepted.

It is true that their purely relative character has been re-
peatedly insisted upon; but the liability to misinterpretation
is so great, that notwithstanding all evidence to the contrary,
there will probably have arisen in not a few minds, the con-
viction that the solutions which have been given, along with
those to be derived from them, are essentially materialistic.
Having, throughout life, constantly heard the charge of
matsrialism made against those who ascribed the more in-
volved phenomena to agencies like those which produce tho
simplest phenomena, most persons have acquired repugnance
to such modes of interpretation ; and the universal appH-
cation of them, even though it is premised that the solutions
they give can be but relative, will probably rouse more or
less of the habitual feeling. Such an attitude of mind, how-
ever, is significant, not so much of a reverence for the
Unknown Cause, as of an irreverence for those familiar
forms in which the Unknown Cause is manifested to us.
Men who have not risen above that vulgar conception which
unites with Matter the contemptuous epithets '^ gross*'
and '^ brute,** may naturally feel dismay at the proposal to
reduce the phenomena of Life, of Mind, and of Society, to a
level with those which they think so degraded. But
whoever remembers that the forms of existence which the
uncultivated speak of with so much scorn, are shown by
the man of science to be the more marvellous in their
attributes the more they are investigated, and are also
proved to be in their ultimate natures absolutely incompre-
hensible— as absolutely incomprehensible as sensation, or
the conscious something which perceives it — ^whoever clearly
recognizes this truth, will see that the course proposed docs
not imply a degradation of the so-called higher, but an
elevation of tho so-called lower. Perceiving as he will, that

SUMMARY AND CONCLUSION. O07

thG Materialist and Spiritualist controversy is a mere war of
words, in wliicli tlie disputants are equally absurd — each
tliinking lie understands that which it is impossible for any
man to understand — ^he will perceive how utterly groundless
is the fear referred to. Being fully convinced that whatever
nomenclature is used, the ultimate mystery must remain tho
same_, he will be as ready to formulate all phenomena in
terms of Matter, Motion, and Force, as in any other terms ;
and will rather indeed anticipate, that only in a doctrine
which recognizes the Unknown Cause as co-extensive with
all orders of phenomena, can there be a consistent Religion,
or a consistent Philosophy.

Though it is impossible to prevent misrepresentations,
especially when the questions involved are of a kind that ex-
cite so much animus, yet to guard against themas far as maybe,
it will be well to make a succinct and emphatic re-statement
of the Philosophico-Religious doctrine which pervades tho
foregoing pages. Over and over again it has been

shown in various ways, that the deepest truths we can
reach, are simply statements of the widest uniformities in
our experience of the relations of Matter, Motion, and Force;
and that Matter, Motion, and Force are but symbols of the
Unknown Eeality. A Power of which the nature remains
for ever inconceivable, and to which no limits in Time or
Space can be imagined, works in us certain effects.
These effects have certain likenesses of kind, the most
'general of which we class together under the names of
Matter, Motion, and Force ; and between these effects there
are likenesses of connection, the most constant of which we
class as laws of the highest certainty. Analysis reduces
these several kinds of effect to one kind of effect ; and these
several kinds of uniformity to one kind of uniformity. And
the highest achievement of Science is the interpretation of
all orders of phenomena, as differently-conditioned manifes-
ta-tions of this one kind of effect, under differently-condi-
tioned modes of this one kind of uniformity. But when

558 SUMMARY AND CONCLUSION.

Science lias done tliis^ it lias done nothing more than sys-
tematize our experience; and lias in no degree extended
the limits of our experience. We can say no more tlian be-
fore^ wlietlier the uniformities are as absolutely necessary,
as they have become to our thought relatively necessary.
The utmost possibility for us, is an interpretation of the
process of things as it presents itself to our limited
consciousness ; but how this process is related to the
actual process we are unable to conceive, much less to
know. Similarly, it must be remembered that

while the connection between the phenomenal order and
the ontological order is for ever inscrutable ; so is the con-
nection between the conditioned forms of being and the
unconditioned form of being for ever inscrutable. The
interpretation of all phenomena in terms of Matter, Motion,
and Force, is nothing more than the reduction of our com-
plex symbols of thought, to the simplest symbols; and
when the equation has been brought to its lowest terms the
symbols remain symbols still. Hence the reasonings con-
tained in the foregoing pages, aiSbrd no support to either of
the antagonist hypotheses respecting the ultimate nature of
things. Their implications are no more materiahstic than
they are spiritualistic ; and no more spiritualistic than they
are materialistic. Any argument which is apparently fur-
nished to either hypothesis, is neutralized by as good an
argument furnished to the other. The Materialist, seeing
it to be a necessary deduction from the law of correlation,'
that what exists in consciousness under the form of feeling,
is transformable into an equivalent of mechanical motion,
and by consequence into equivalents of all the other forces
which matter exhibits ; may consider it therefore dcmou-
etrated that the phenomena of consciousness are material
phenomena. But the Spiritualist, setting out with tho
Bame data, may argue with equal cogency, that if the forces
displayed by matter are cognizable only under the shape ol
those equivalent amounts of consciousness which they pro-

6UMMAEY AND CONCLUSION. 559

duce, it is to be inferred that these forces, when existing
out of consciousness, are of the same intrinsic nature as
when existing in consciousness ; and that so is justiJBed thQ
spiritualistic conception of the external worlds as consisting
of something essentially identical with what we call mind.
Manifestly, the establishment of correlation and equivalence
between the forces of the outer and the inner worlds, may
be used to assimilate either to the other; according as wo
set out with one or other term. But he who rightly inter-
prets the doctrine contained in this work, will see that
licither of these terms can be taken as ultimate. Ho will
see that though the relation of subject and object renders
necessary to us these antithetical conceptions of Spirit and
Matter ; the one is no less than the other to be regarded as
but a sign of the Unknown Reality which underlies both.

THE EXDW

4>. G. /S'Jf.

OPINIONS OF THE PRESS.

Mr. Spencer's philosophical series is published by D. Appleton
6 Co., Ne^ York, in quarterly parts (80 to 100 pages each), by
subscription, at two dollars a year. " First Frinciples" is issued
in one volume, and four parts of Biology have appeared. We
subjoin some notices of his philosophy from American and English
reviews :

From the Naiional Quarterly Eeview (American).
Comte thus founded social science, and opened a path for future discoverers ;
but he did not perceive, any more than previous inquirers, the fundamental law
of human evolution. It was reserved for Herbert Spencer to discover this all-
comprehensive lawwhich is found to explain alike all the phenomena of man'a
history and all those of external nature. This sublime discovery, that the uni-
verse is in a continuous process of evolution from the homogeneous to the hete-
rogeneous, with which only Newton's law of gravitation is at all worthy to be
compared, underlies not only physics, but also history. It reveals the law to
which social changes conform.

From tlie KJhristtan Examiner.
Reverent and bold — reverent for truth, though not for the forms of truth, aud
not for much that we hold true — bold in the destruction of error, though with-
9ut that joy in destruction which often claims the name of boldness; — these
works are interesting in themselves and in their relation to the current thought
of the time. They seem at first sight to form the turning point in the positive
philosophy, but closer examination shows us that it is only a new and marked
Btage in a regular growth. It is the positive philosophy reaching the higher
relations of our being, and establishing what before it ignored because it had not
reached, and by ignoring seemed to deny. This system formerly excluded the-
ology and psychology. In the works of Herbert Spencer we have the rudiments
of a positive theology and an immense step toward the perfection of the science
of psychology. * * * Such is a brief and meagre sketch of a discussion
which we would commend to be followed in detail by every mind interested in
Iheological studies. Herbert Spencer comes in good faith from what has been
10 long a hostile camp, bringing a flag of truce and presenting terms of agree*
neut meant to be honorable to both parties : let us give him a candid hearing

562 OPDflONS OF THE PEESS.

» ♦ * In conclusion, we would remark that the work of Herbert Spencer ra
ferred to (First Principles) is not mainly theological, but will present the lates'.
and broadest generalizations of science, and we would commend to our readers
this author, too little known among us, as at once one of the clearest of teachers
and one of the wisest and most honorable of opponents.

From tJie New Englander.

Though we find here some unwarranted assumptions, as well as some grave
omissions, yet this part (Laws of the Knowable) may be considered, upon the
whole, as a fine specimen of scientific reasoning. Considerable space is devoted
to the "Law of Evolution," the discovery of which is the author's chief claim to
originality, and certainly evinces great power of generalization. To quote the
abstract definition without a full statement of the inductions from which it ia
derived would convey no fair impression of the breadth and strength of the
thought which it epitomizes. Of Mr. Spencer's general characteristics as a wri-
ter, we may observe that his style is marked by great purity, clearness, and
force; though it is somewhat diffuse, and the abstract nature of some of his top-
ics occasionally renders his thought difficult of apprehension. His treatment of
his subjects is generally thorough and sometimes exhaustive; his arguments are
always ingenious if not always convincing ; his illustrations are drawn from al-
most every accessible field of human knowledge, and his method of "putting
things" is such as to make the most of his materials. He is undoubtedly enti-
tled to a high rank among the speculative and philosophic writers of the present
day. * * »
j In Mr. Spencer we have the example of a positivist, who does not treat the
subject of religion with supercilious neglect, and who illustrates by his own
method of reasoning upon the highest objects of human thought, the value of
those metaphysical studies which it is so much the fashion of his school to de-
cry. For both these reasons the volume, which we now propose to examine,
deserves the careful attention of the theologian who desires to know what one
of the strongest thinkers of his school, commonly thought atheistic in its tenden-
cies, can say in behalf of our ultimate religious ideas. For if we mistake not, in
spite of the very negative character of his own results, he has furnished some
sirong arguments for the doctrine of a positive Christian theology. "We shall be
mistaken if we expect to find him carelessly passing these matters by (religious
faith and theological science) as in all respects beyond knowledge and of no
practical concern. On the contrary, he gives them profound attention, and
arrives at conclusions in regard to them which even the Christian theologian
must allow to contain a large measure of truth. While showing the unsearclcdbU
nature of the ultimate facts on which religion depends, he demonstrates theii
rml existence and their great importance. * * * In answering these ques-
tions Mr. Spencer has, we think, arrived nearer to a true philosophy than eithei
Hamilton or Mansel. At least he has indicated in a more satisfactory mannei
than they have done, the positive datum of consciousness that the unconditioned,
though inscrutable, exists. It may be said that Mr. Spencer is not chargeable
with excluding God from the universe, or denying all revelation of Him in His
works, since he earnestly defends the truth that an inscrutable power is shown
'to ixist. We certainly would not charge him with theoretical atheism, holding
as he does this ultimate religious idea.

OPINIONS OF THE PKESS. 5G3

From the KoriJi American Eeview,
The law of organic development announced in the early part of the i resent
century, by Goethe, Schelling, and Von Baer, and vaguely expressed in the for-
mula, that "evolution is always from the homogeneous to the heterogeneous, and
from the simple to the complex," has recently been extended by Herbert Spencer
BO as to include all phenomena whatsoever. He has shown that this law of evo-
lution is the law of aU evolution. Whether it be in the development of the earth
or of life upon its surface, in the development of Society, of government, of man-
ufactures, of commerce, of language, hterature, science, and art, this same ad-
vance from the simple to the complex, through successive differentiations, holds
uniformly. The stupendous induction from all classes of phenomena by which Mr.
Spencer proceeds to estabUsh and illustrate his theorem cannot be given here.

From the Christian Spectator (English).
Mr. Spencer claims for his view that it is not onJy a religious position, but
preeminently th^ religious position ; and we are most thoroughly disposed to
agree with him, though we think he does not appreciate the force of his own
argument, nor fully understand his own words. For let us now attempt to real-
ize the meaning of this fact, of which Mr. Spencer and his compeers have put ua
in possession ; let us endeavour to see whether its bearings are reaUy favorable
or adverse to religion. They are put forward indeed avowedly as adverse to any
other religion than a mere reverential acquiescence in ignorance concerning all
that truly exists ; but it appears to us that this supposed opposition to religion
arises from the fact that the doctrine itself is so profoundly, so intensely, so
overwhelmingly religious, nay, so utterly and entirely Cheistian, that its true
meaning could not be seen for very glory. Like Moses, when he came down
from the Mount, this positive philosophy comes with a veil over its face, that its
too divine radiance may be hidden for a time. This is Science that has been
conversing with God, and brings in her hand His law written on tables of stone.

From the Beader.
To answer the question of the likelihood of the permanence of Mr. Mill's phi-
losophic reign, * * * we should have to take account, among other things,
of the differences fi-om Mr. Mill already shown by the extraordinarily able and
peculiarly original thinker whose name we have associated with Mr. Mill's at the
head of this article. We may take occasion, at another time, to call attention to
these speculations of JVIr. Herbert Spencer, whose works in the mean time, and
especially that new one whose title we have cited, we recommend to all those
Belect readers whose appreciation of masterly exposition, and great reach and
boldness of generaMzation, does not depend on their mere disposition to agree
with the doctrines propounded.

From the British Quarterly Beview.
Complete in itself, it is at the same time but a part of a whole, which, if it
should be constructed in proportion, will be ten times as great. For these First
Principles are merely the foundation of a system of philosophy, bolder, more
elaborate and comprehensive, perhaps, than any other which has been hitherto
designed in England. * * * Widely as it will be seen we differ from the
author on some points, we very sincerely hope he may succeed in accompUshinji
ttie bold and magnificent project he has mapped out.

564 oriNioNS of thepbess.

From ihe CornMll Magazine,
Our "Survey/* superficial as it is, must include at least the mention of a
Ifork so lofty in aim, and so remarkable in execution as the system of Philosophy
which Mr. Herbert Spencer is issuing to subscribers. * * * In spite of all
dissidence respecting the conclusions, the serious reader will applaud the pro*
found earnestness and thoroughness with which these conclusions are advo-
cated ; the universal scientific knowledge brought to bear on them by way of
illustration, and the acute and subtle thinking displayed in every chapter.

From the FartTienon.
By these books he has wedged his way into fame in a manner distinctly ori
ginal, and curiously marked. * * * There is a peculiar charm in this au-
thor's style, in that it sacrifices to no common taste, while at the same time it
makes the most abstruse questions intelligible. * * * The book, if it is to
be noticed with the slightest degree of fairness, requires to be read and re-read,
to be studied apart from itself and with itself. For whatever may be its ultimate
fate — although as the ages go on it shall become but as the lispings of a little
child, a little more educated than other lisping children of the same time — thia
is certain, that, as a book addressed to the present, it lifts the mind far above
the ordinary range of thought, suggests new associations, arranges chaotic pic-
tures, strikes often a broad harmony, and even moves the heart by an intellco-
tual struggle as passionless as fate, but as irresistible as time.

From tJie Critic.
Mr. Spencer is the foremost mind of the only philosophical school in England
which has arrived at a consistent scheme. * * * Beyond this school we en-
counter an indolent chaotic eclecticism. Mr. Spencer claims the respect due to
distinct and daring individuality ; others are echoes or slaves. Mr. Spencer may
be a usurper, but he has the voice and gesture of a king.

From the Medico- Chirurgical Beview.

Mr. Spencer is equally remarkable for his search after first principles ; for bis

acute attempts to decompose mental phenomena into their primary elements ;

and for his broad generalizations of mental activity, viewed in connection with

nature, instinct, and all the analogies presented by life in its universal aspects.

Translated from an able and elaborate article in the H&vue des Deux Mondea of
Fd), 15, 1864.
— The great work on philosophy, by Herbert Spencer, whom I would willinglj
Btyle the last of English metaphysicians. In the midst of universal indifference,
Mr. Spencer remained steadily attached to his philosophical studies, displaying
all that heroic courage and that rare independence indispensable to those who
devote themselves to toilsome researches which at best only recompense the
student with a few obscure and isolated suffrages.

If Mr. Spencer, with his talent, his fertility of genius, and the almost encyclo
pedic variety of knowledge of which his writings furnish the proof, had chosen
to follow the beaten path, nothing would have been more easy than for him to
secure all those honors of which English society is so prodigal to those who serve
her as she wishes to be served. He preferred, however, with a noble and touch-
mg self-denial, to put up with poverty — and what is still more difficult, with ob

OPINIOXS OF THE PRESS. 565

icurity. But he deserves more^than vain assurances of sympathy: we must not
merely wdmire his fidelity to profitless studies ; his work itself merits the indi-
vidual avtention of all friends of philosophy.

An impression prevails with many that Mr. Spencer belongs
to the positive school of M. Auguste Comte. This is an entire
misapprehension ; but the position having been assumed by sev-
eral of his reviewers, he repels the charge in the following letter,
which appeared in the New Englander for January, 1864 :

To tlie Editor qf the New Englander :

Sir : — ^While recognizing the appreciative tone and general candour of the
article in your last number, entitled "Herbert Spencer on Ultimate Religioua
Ideas," allow me to point out one error which pervades it. The writer correctly
represents the leading positions of my argument, but he inadvertently conveys
a wrong impression respecting my tendencies and sympathies. He says of me,
"the spirit of his philosophy is evidently that of the so-called positive method
which has now many partial disciples, as well as many zealous adherents among
the thinkers of England." Further on I am tacitly classed with "the English
admirers and disciples of the great Positivist;" and it is presently added that
"in Mr. Spencer we have an example of a positivist, who does not treat the sub-
ject of religion with supercilious neglect." Here and throughout, the implica-
tion is that I am a follower of Comte. This is a mistake. That M. Comte has
given a general exposition of the doctrine and method elaborated by science,
and has applied to it a name which has obtained a certain currency, is true.
But it is not true that the holders of this doctrine and followers of this method
are disciples of M. Comte. Neither their modes of inquiry nor their views con-
cerning human knowledge in its nature and limits are appreciably different from
what they were before. If they are Positivists it is in the sense that all men of
science have been more or less consistently Positivists ; and the applicability of
M. Comte' s title to them no more makes them his disciples than does its appli-
cability to the men of science who lived and died before M. Comte wrote, make
them his disciples.

My own attitude toward M. Comte and his partial adherents has been all
along that of antagonism. In an essay on the " Genesis of Science," published
in 1854, and republished with other essays in 1857, I have endeavoured to show
that his theory of the logical dependence and historical development of the
sciences is untrue. I have still among my papers the memoranda of a second
review (for which I failed to obtain a place), the purpose of which was to show
the untenableness of his theory of intellectual progress. The only doctrine of
importance in whi<;h I agree with him — the relativity of ill knowledge — is one
common to him and sundry other thinkers of earlier date ; and even this I hold
in a different sense from that in which he held it. But on all points that are dis-
tinctive of his philosophy, I differ from him. I deny his Hierarchy of the Sci-
ences. I regard his division of intellectual progress into the three phases, theo-
logical, metaphysical, and positive, as superficial. I reject utterly his Religion
of Humanity. And his ideal of society I hold in detestation. Some of his minor
views I accept ; some of his incidental remarks seem to mo to be profound, but
from every thing which distinguishes Comteism as a system, I dissent entirely.
The only influence on my own course of thought which I can trace toM. Comte'a
writings, is the influence that results from meeting with antagonistic opinions
definitely expressed.

Such being my position, you will, I think, see that by classing me as a Posi-
tivist, and tacitly including me among the English admirers and disciples of
Comte, your reviewer unintentionally misrepresents me. I am quite ready to
bear the odium attaching to opinions which I do hold; but I object to have added
the odium attaching to opinions which I do not hold. If, by publishing this let-
«er '.n your forthcoming number, you will allow me to set myself right with the
American public on this matter, you will greatly oblige me. I am. Sir, youi
C'Dedieut servant, Heicbkrt Si'ukcbe.

566 OPINIONS OF THE PEESS.

We take the liberty of making an extract from a private Icttei

of Mr. Spencer, which contains some further observations in tha

same connection :

** There appears to have got abroad in the United States a very erroneous
impression respecting the influence of Comte's writings in England. I suppose
that the currency obtained by the words 'Positivism* and * Positivist,' is to
blame for this. Comte having designated by the term Positive Philosophy all
that body of definitely-established knowledge which men of science have been
gradually organizing into a coherent body of doctrine, and having habitually
placed this in opposition to the incoherent body of doctrine defended by theolo-
gians, it has become the habit of the theological party to think of the antagonist,
scientific party under this title of Positivists applied to them by Comte. And
thus, from the habit of calling them Positivists there has grown up the assump-
tion that they call themselves Positivists, and that they are the disciples of
Comte, The truth is that Comte and his doctrines receive here scarcely any at-
tention. I know something of the scientific world in England, and I cannot
name a single man of science who acknowledges himself a follower of Comte, or
accepts the title of Positivist, Lest, however, there should be some such who
were unknown to me, I have recentlv made inquiries into the matter. To Pro-
fessor Tyndall I put the question whether Comte had exerted any appreciable
influence on his own course of thought: and he replied, *So far as I know, my
own course of thought would have been exactlv the same had Comte never ex-
isted.' I then asked, * Do you know any man of science whose views have been
affected by Comte's writings?' and his answer was: 'His influence on scientific
thought in England is absolutely nil,* To the same questions Prof. Huxley re-
turned, in other words, the same answers. Professors Huxley and Tyndall,
being leaders in their respective departments, and being also men of general
culture and philosophic insight, I think that joining their impressions with my
own, I am justified m saying that the scientific world of England is wholly unin-
fluenced by Comte, Such small influence as he has had here has been on some
literary men and historians — men who wera attracted by the grand achieve-
ments of science, who were charmed by the plausible system of scientific gen-
eralizations put forth by Comte, with the usual French regard for symmetry and
disregard for fact, and who were, from their want of scientific training, unable
to detect the essential fallaciousness of his system. Of these the most notable
example was the late Mr. Buckle. Besides him, I can name but seven men who
have been in any appreciable degree influenced by Comte ; and of these, four, if
bot five, are scarcely known to tne public,"

opinions of the Press on the ^^International Scientific Series,

Tyndairs Forms of Water.

I vol., i2mo. Cloth. Illustrated ; Price, $1.50.

*' In the volume now published, Professor Tyndall has presented a noble illustration
of the acuteness and subtlety of his intellectual powers, the scope and insight of his
scientific vision, his singular command of the appropriate language of exposition, and
the peculiar vivacity and grace with which he unfolds the results of intricate scientific
research." — N. Y. Tribune.

" The ' Forms of Water,' by Professor Tyndall, is an interesting and instructive
little volume, admirably printed and illustrated. Prepared expressly for this series, it
is in some measure a guarantee of the excellence of the volumes that will follow, and an
indication that the publishers will spare no pains to include in the series the freshest in-
vestigations of the best scientific minds." — Boston Journal.

" This series is admirably commenced by this little volume from the pen of Prof-
Tyndall. A perfect master of his subject, he presents in a style easy and attractive his
methods of investigation, and the results obtained, and gives to the reader a clear con-
c«ption of all the wondrous transformations to which water is subjected." — Churchman^

II.

Bagehot's Physics and Politics.

I vol., i2mo. Price, $1.50.

" If the ' International Scientific Series ' proceeds as it has begun, it will more than
fulfil the promise given to the reading public in its prospectus. The first volume, by
Professor Tyndall, was a model of lucid and attractive scientific exposition ; and now
we have a second, by Mr. Walter Bagehot, which is not only very lucid and charming,^
but also original and suggestive in the highest degree. Nowhere since the publication
of Sir Henry Maine's 'Ancient Law,' have we seen so many fruitful thoughts sug-
gested in the course of a couple of hundred pages. . . . To do justice to Mr. Bage-
hot's fertile book, would require a long article. With the best of intentions, we are
conscious of having given but a sorry account of it in these brief paragraphs. But we
hope we have said enough to commend it to the attention of the thoughtful reader."—
Prof. John Fiske, in the A tlaniic Monthly.

" Mr. Bagehot's style is clear and vigorous. We refrain fi-om giving a fuller ac-
count of these suggestive essays, only because we are sure that our readers will find it
worth tlieir while to peruse the book for themselves ; and we sincerely hope that tho
forthcoming parts of the ' International Scientific Series ' will be as interesting."—'
A thenteum.

" Mr. Bagehot discusses an immense variety of topics connected with the progress
of societies and nations, and the development of their distinctive peculiarities; and hi«
book shows an abundance of ingenious and original thought" — ^Alfred Russeli
Wallace, in Nature.

D. APPLETON & CO., Publishers, $49 & 551 Broadway, N. Yr

opinions of the Press on the ^^International Scientific Series.**

III.

Foods.

By Dr. EDWARD SMITH.
I vol., i2mo. Cloth. Illustrated Price, $1.75.

In making up The International Scientific Series, Dr. Edward Smith was se-
lected as the ablest man in England to treat the important subject of Foods. His services
were secured for the undertaking, and the little treatise he has produced shows that the
choice of a writer on this subject was most fortunate, as the book is unquestionably the
clearest and best-digested compend of the Science of Foods that has appeared in our
language.

" The book contains a series of diagrams, dispfeying the effects of sleep and meals
on pulsation and respiration, and of various kinds of food on respiration, which, as the
results of Dr. Smith's own experiments, possess a very high value. We have not fax
to go in this work for occasions of favorable criticism ; they occur tfiroughout, but are
perhaps raost apparent in those parts of the subject with which Dr. Smith's name is es-
pecially linked." — London Examiner.

"The union of scientific and popular treatment in the composition of this -work will
afford an attraction to many readers who would have been indifferent to purely theoreti-
cal details. . . . Still his work abounds in information, much of which is of great value,
and a part of which could not easily be obtained from other sources. Its interest is de,
cidedly enhanced for students who demand both clearness and exactness of statement,
by the profusion of well-executed woodcuts, diagrams, and tables, which accompany th?
volume. . . . The suggestions of the author on the use of tea and coffee, and of the va-
rious forms of alcohol, although perhaps not strictly of a novel character, are highly ia>
structive, and form an interesting portion of the volume."— iV. Y. Tribune.

Body

IV.

and Mind.

THE THEORIES OF THEIR RELATION.

By ALEXANDER BAIN, LL D.

I vol., i2mo. Cloth Price, $1.50.

Professor Bain is the author of two well-known standard works upon the Science
»f Mind—" The Senses and the Intellect," and ." The Emotions and the Will." He is
one of the highest living authorities in the school which holds that there can be no sound
or valid psychology unless the mind and the body are studied, as they exist, together.

" It contains a forcible statement of the connection between mind and body, study-
ing their subtile interworkings by the light of the most recent physiological investiga-
tions. The summary in Chapter V., of the investigations of Dr. Lionel Beale of the
embodiment of the intellectual functions in the cerebral system, will be found the
freshest and most interesting part of his book. Prof. Bain's own theory of the connec-
tion between the mental and the bodily part in man is stated by himself to be as follows :
There is ' one substance, with two sets of properties, two sides, the physical and the
mental — a double-faced unity.' While, in the strongest manner, asserting the imion
of mind with brain, he yet denies ' the association of union in place f' but asserts the
union of close succession in time,' holding that ' the same being is, by alternate fits, vin-
der extended and under unextended consciousness." ' — Christian Register.

D. APPLETON & CO., Publishers, 549 & 551 Broadway, N. Y.

Opi7tions of the Press on the " International Scientific Series, ''^

The Study of Sociology.

By HERBERT SPENCER.
I vol., i2mo. Cloth Price, $1.50.

"The philosopher whose distinguished name gives weight and influence to this vol-
ume, has given in its pages some of the finest specimens of reasoning in all its forms
and departments. There is a fascination in his array of facts, incidents, and opinions,
which draws on the reader to ascertain his conclusions. The coolness and calmness of
his treatment of acknowledged difficulties and grave objections to his theories win for
him a close attention and sustained effort, on the part of the reader, to comprehend, fol-
low, grasp, and appropriate his principles. This book, independently of its bearing
upon sociology, is valuable as lucidly showing what those essential characteristics are
which entitle any arrangement and connection of facts and deductions to be called a
science." — EpiscopaliaTu

" This work compels admiration by the evidence which it gives of immense re-
search, study, and observation, and is. withal, written in a popular and very pleasing
sryle. It is a fascinating work, as well as one of deep practical thought." — Bost. Post.

" Herbert Spencer is unquestionably the foremost living thinker in the psychological
and sociological fields, and this volume is an important contribution to the science of
which it treats. ... It will prove more popular than any of its author's other creations,
for it is more plainly addressed to the people and has a more practical and less specu-
lative cast It will require thought, but it is well worth tmnking about." — Albany
Evening Journal.

VI.

The New Chemistry.

By JOSIAH P. COOKE, Jr.,

Erving Professor of Chemistry and Mineralogy in Harvard University.

I vol., i2mo. Cloth Price, $2.00.

"The book of Prof. Cooke is a model of the modem popular science work. It has
just the due proportion of fact, philosophy, and true romance, to make it a fascinating
companion, either for the voyage or the study." — Daily Graphic.

" This admirable monograph, by the distinguished Erving Professor of Chemistry
in Harvard University, is the first American contribution to 'The International Scien-
tific Series,' and a more attractive piece of work in the way of popular exposition upon
a difficult subject has not appeared in a long rime. It not only well sustains the char-
acter of the volumes with which it is associated, but its reproduction in European coun-
tries will be an honor to American science." — Neiv York Tribune.

" All the chemists in the country will enjoy its perusal, and many will seize upon it
as a thing longed for. For, to those advanced students who have kept well abreast of
the chemical tide, it offers a calm philosophy. To those others, youngest of the class,
who have emerged from the schools since new methods have prevailed, it presents a
generalization, drawing to its use all the data, the relations of which the newly-fledged
fact-seeker may but dimly perceive without its aid. ... To the old chemists, Prof.
Cooke's treatise is like a message from beyond the mountain. ITiey have heard 0/
changes in the science; the clash of tKe battle of old and new theories has stirred them
from afar. The tidings, too, had come that the old had given way ; and little more than
this they knew. . . . Prof Cooke's ' New Chemistry* must do wide service in bringing
to close sight the little known and the longed for. ... As a philosophy it is elemen-
tary, but, ai a book of science, ordinary readers will find it sufficiently advanced."-"
Utica Morning Herald.

D. APPLETON & CO., Publishers, 549 & 551 Broadway, N. Y.

Opiniofts of the Press on the ''^International Scientific Series."

VII.

The Conservation of Energy.

By BALFOUR STEWART, LL. D., F. R. S.

IViik an Appendix treating of the Vital and Menial Applications of the Doctrine.

I vol., i2ino. Cloth. Price, $1.50.

" The author has succeeded in presenting the facts in a clear and satisfactory manner,
using simple language and copious illustration in the presentation of facts and prin-
ciples, confining himself, however, to the physical aspect of the subject. In the Ap-
pendix the operation of the principles in the spheres of life and miiid is supplied by
the essays of Professors Le Conte and Bain." — Ohio Farmer.

" Prof. Stewart is one of the best known teachers in Owens College in Manchester.

** The volume of The International Scientific Series now before us is an ex-
cellent illustration of the true method of teaching, and^will well compare with Prof.
Tyndall's charming little book in the same series on ' FoVms of Water," with illustra-
tions enough to make clear, but not to conceal his thoughts, in a style simple and
brief." — Christian Register, Bostoft.

" The writer has wonderful ability to compress much information into a few words.
It is a rich treat to read such a book as this, when there is so much beauty and force
combined with such simplicity. — Eastern Press.

VIII.

Animal Locomotion;

Or, WALKING, SWIMMING, AND FLYING.

With a Dissertation on Aeronautics.

By J. BELL PETTIGREW, M. D., F. R. S., F. R. S. E.,
F. R.C. P.E.

I vol., i2mo Price, $1.75.

"This work is more than a contribution to the stock of entertaining knowledge,
though, if it only pleased, that would be sufficient excuse for its publication. But Dr.
Pettigrevvr has given his time to these investigations with the ultimate purpose of solv-
ing the difficult problem of Aeronautics. To this he devotes the last fifty pages of hii
book. Dr. Pettigrew is confident that man will yet conquer the domain of the air."—
N. Y. Journal of Commerce.

" Most persons claim to know how to walk, but few could explain the mechanicnl
I)rinciples involved in this most ordinary transaction, and will he suri)rised that the
movements of bipeds and quadrupeds, the darting and rushing motion of fish, and the
erratic flight of the denizens of the air, are not only anologous, but can be reduced to
similar formula. The work is profusely illustrated, and, without reference to the theory
it is designed to expound, will be regarded as a valuable addition to natural history."
—Omaha Republic.

D. APPLETON & CO., Publishers, 549 & 551 Broadway, N. Y«

opinions of the Press on the ^^International Scientific SeriesJ*^

IX.

Responsibility in Mental Disease.

By HENRY MAUDSLEY, M. D.,

Fellow of the Royal College of Physicians ; Professor of Medical Jurisprudence
in University College, London.

I vol., l2mo. Cloth. . . Price, $1.50.

" Having lectured in a medical college on Mental Disease, this book has been a
feast to us. It handles a great subject in a masterly manner, and, in our judgnjent, the
positions taken by the author are correct and well sustained." — Pastor and People.

"The author is at home in his subject, and presents his views in an almost singu-
larly clear and satisfactory manner. . . . The volume is a valuable contribution to one
of the most difficult, and at the same time one of the most important subjects of inves-
tigation at the present day." — N. V. Observer.

*' It is a work profound and searching, and aboimds in -wi^^ova." —Pittsburg Com-
mercial.

" Handles the important topic with masterly power, and its suggestions are prac-
tical and of great value." — Providence Press.

The Science of Law.

By SHELDON AMOS, M. A.,

Professor of Jurisprudence in University College, London; author of "A Systematic

View of the Science of Jurisprudence," "An English Code, its Difficulties

and the Modes of overcoming them," etc., etc.

I vol., l2mo. Cloth Price, $1.75.

"The valuable series of 'International Scientific' works, prepared by eminent spe-
cialists, with the intention of popularizing information in their several branches of
knowledge, has received a good accession in this compact and thoughtful volume. It
is a difficult task to give the outlines of a complete theory of law in a portable volume,
which he who runs may read, and probably Professor Amos himself would be the last
to claim that he has perfecdy succeeded in doing this. But he has certainly done much
to clear the science of law from the technical obscurities which darken it to minds which
have had no legal training, and to make clear to his ' lay' readers-tn how true and high a
sense it can assert its right to be considered a science, and not a mere practice." — Th£
Christian Register.

"The works of Bentham and Austin are abstruse and philosophical, and Maine's
require hard study and a certain amount of special training. The writers also pursue
different lines of investigation, and can only be regarded as comprehensive in the de-
partments they confined themselves to. It was left to Amos to gather up the result
and present the science in its fullness. The unquestionable merits of this, his last book,
are, that it contains a complete treatment of a subject which has hitherto been handled
by specialists, and it opens up that subject to every inquiring mind. ... To do justice
to ' The Science of Law ' would require a longer review than we have space for. Wo
have read no more interesting and instructive book for some time. Its themes concern
every one who renders obedience to laws, and who would have those laws the best
possible. The tide of legal reform which set in fifty years ago has to sweep yet highei
if the flaws in our jurisprudence are to be removed. The process of change cannot be
better guided than by a well-informed public mind, and Prof. Amos has done great
service in materially helping to promote this ^nd."—'BuJfalo Courier.

D. APPLETON & CO., Publishers, 549 & 551 Broadway, N. Y.

opinions of the Press on the ^^International Scientific Series,'*

XI.

Animal Mechanism,

A Treatise on Terrestrial and Aerial Locomotion,

By E. J. MAREY,

Professor at the College of France, and Member of the Academy of Medicine.

With XI7 Illustrations, drawn and engraved under the direction of the author.

1 vol., i2mo. Cloth Price, $1.75

" We hope that, in the short glance which we have taken of some of the most im-
portant points discussed in the work before us, we have succeeded in interesting our
readers sufficiently in its contents to make them curious to learn more of its subject-
matter. We cordially recommend it to their attention.

"The author of the present work, it is well known, stands at the head of those
physiologists who have investigated the mechanism of animal dynamics — indeed, we
may almost say that he has made the subject his own. By the originality of his con-
ceptions, the ingenuity of his constructions, the skill of his analysis, and the persever-
ance of his investigations, he has surpassed all others in the power of unveiling the
complex and intricate movements of animated beings."— Fo/ular Science Monthly.

XII.

History of the Conflict between
Religion and Science.

By JOHN WILLIAM DRAPER, M. D., LL. D.,

Author of " The Intellectual Development of Europe."
I vol., i2mo. Price, $1.75.

" This little ' History ' would have been a valuable contribution to literature at any
time, and is, in fact, an admirable text-book upon a subject that is at present engross-
ing the attention of a large number of the most serious-minded people, and it is no
small compliment to the sagacity of its distinguished author that he has so well gauged
the requirements of the times, and so adequately met them by the preparation of this
volume. It remains to be added that, while the writer has flinched from no responsi-
bility in his statements, and has written with entire fidelity to the demands of truth
and justice, there is not a word in his book that can give offense to candid and fair-
minded readers." — N. V. Evening Post.

" The key-note to this volume is found in the antagonism between the progressive
tendencies of the human mind and the pretensions of ecclesiastical autliority, as dcvel-
oped in the history of modern science. No previous writer has treated the subject
froni this point of view, and the present monograph will be foimd to possess no less
originality of conception than vigor of reasoning and wealth of erudition. . . . The
method of Dr. Draper, in his treatment of the various questions that come up for dis-
cussion, is marked by singular impartiality as well as consummate ability. Through-
out his work he maintains the position of an historian, not of an advocnte. His tone is
tranquil and serene, as becomes the search after truth, with no trace of the impassioned
ardor of controversy. He endeavors so far to identify himself with the contending
parties as to gain a clear comprehension of their motives, but, at the same time, h«
submits their actions to the tests of a cool and impartial examination." — N. V. Tribune.

D. APPLETON & CO., Publishers, 549 & 551 Broadway, N. Y.

opinions of the Press on the " International Scientific Series,^*

XIII.
THE DOCTRINE OF

Descent, and Darwinism.

By OSCAR SCHMIDT,
Professor in the University of Strasburg.

With 26 Woodcuts.
I vol., i2mo. Cloth Price, $1.50.

" The entire subject Is discussed with a freshness, as well as an elaboration of de-
tail, that renders his work interesting in a more than usual degree. The facts upon
which the Darwinian theory is based are presented in an effective manner, conclusions
are ably defended, and the question is treated in more compact and available style
than in any other work on the same topic that has yet appeared. It is a valuable ad-
dition to the * International Scientific Series.' " — Boston Post.

"The present volume is the thirteenth of the 'International Scientific Series,' and
is one of the most interesting of all of them. The subject-matter is handled with a
great deal of skill and earnestness, and the courage of the author in avowing his opin-
ions is much to his credit. . . . This volume certainly merits a careful perusal." —
Hartford Evening Post.

" The volume which Prof. Schmidt has devoted to this theme Is a valuable contri-
bution to the Darwinian literature. Philosophical in method, and eminently candid,
it shows not only the ground which Darwin had in his researches made, and conclu-
sions reached before him to plant his theory upon, but shows, also, what that theory
really is, a point upon which many good people who talk very earnestly about the
matter are very imperfectly informed." — Detroit Free Press.

XIV.

The Chemistry of Light and
Photography ;

In its Application to Art, Science, and Industry.

By Dr. HERMANN VOGEI,
Professor In the Royal Industrial Academy of Berlin.

With 100 Illustrations.
l2mo Price, $2.00.

" Out of Photography has sprung a new science — the Chemistry of Light— and, in
giving a popular view to the one, Dr. Vo^el has presented an analysis of the principles
and processes of the other. His treatise is as entertaining as it is instructive, pleas-
antly combining a history of the progress and practice of photography — from the first
rough experiments of Wedgwood and Davy with sensitized paper, in 1802, down to
the latest improvements of the art — with technical illustrations of the scientific theories
on which the art is based. It is the first attempt in any manual of photography to set
forth adequately the just claims of the invention, both from an artistic and a scientific
point of view, and it must be conceded that the effort has been ably conducted."—*
Chicago Tribune.

D. APPLETON & CO., Publishers, 549 & 551 Broadway, N. Y.

opinions of the Press on the ^^ Interfiational Scientific Series.'"

XV.

Fungi

THEIR NATURE, INFLUENCE, AND USES.

By M. C. COOKE, M. A., LL. D.

Edited by Rev. M. J. BERKELEY, M. A., F. L. S.

With 109 Illustrations. Price, $1.50.

" Even if the name of the author of this work were not deservedly eminent, that of
the editor, who has long stood at the head of the British fungologists, would be a suf-
ficient voucher for the accuracy of one of the best botanical monographs ever issued
from the press. . . . The structure, germination, and growth of all these widely-dif-
fused organisms, their habitats and influences for good and evil, are systematically
described." — New York World.

"Dr. Cooke's book contains an admirable risunii o{ what is known on the struct-
ure, growth, and reproduction of fungi, together with ample bibliographical references
to original sources of information." — London A thencEUjn.

"The production of a work like the one now under review represents a large
amount of laborious, difficult, and critical work, and one in which a serious slip or fatal
error would be one of the easiest matters possible, but, as far as we are able to judge,
the new hand-book seems in every way well suited to the requirements of all beginners
in the difficult and involved study of fungology." — The Gardener's Chronicle {/.on-

d07l).

XVI.

The Life and Growth of Language:

AN OUTLINE OF LINGUISTIC SCIENCE.

By WILLIAM DWIGHT WHITNEY,

Professor of Sanskrit and Comparative Philology in Yale College.

I vol., i2mo. Cloth. Price, $1.50.

" Prof Whitney is to be commended for giving to the public the results of his ripe
scholarship and unusually profound researches in simple language. He draws illus-
trations and examples of the principles whfch he wishes to impa**, from common life
and the words in frequent use.

" The topics discussed in this volume are, for the most part, those which have
been already treated by other writers on philolog>', and even by the author himself, in
his volume on ' Language, and the Study of Language,' published a few years ago,
and, though many of the truths here set forth are those with which students in the
same line of investigation are generally familiar, all will rejoice to see them restated in
such a fresh and simple way.

"This work, while valuable to scholars, will be interesting to every one." — The
Churckjnan.

" This work is an important contribution to a science which has advanced steadily
under conditions that appear constantly to throw an increasing light on difficult ques-
tions, and at each step clear the way for further discoveries." — Chicago Jnter-Occan.

" Prof. Whitney is undoubtedly one of the foremost of English-speaking philologists,
and occupies an enviable position in the wider circle of European students of language.

"His style, clear, simple, picturesque, abounding in striking illustrations, and apt
in comparisons, is admirably fitted to he the vehicle of a popular treatise like the work
under consideration." — Portla7id Daily Press.

D. APPLETON & CO., Publishers, 549 & 551 Broadway, N. Y.

opinions of the Press on the ''^ International Scientific Series^

XVII.

Money and the Mechanism of Ex-
change.

By W. STANLEY JEVONS, M. A., F. R. S,

Professor of Logic and Political Economy in the Owens College, Manchester.

I vol., i2mo. Cloth. Price, $1.75.

" He offers us what a clear-sighted, cool-headed, scientific student has to say on the
nature, properties, and natural laws of money, without regard to local interests or na-
tional bias. His work is popularly written, and every page is replete with solid instruc-
tion of a kind that is just now lamentably needed by multitudes of our people who are
victimized by the grossest fallacies." — Poptilar Science Monthly.

"If Professor J evons's book is read as extensively as it deserves to be, we shall
have sounder views on the use and abuse of money, and more correct ideas on what a
circulating medium really means." — Boston Saturday Eveni7ig Gazette.

"Professor Jevons writes in a sprightly but colorless style, without trace of either
prejudice or mannerism, and shows no commitment to any theory. The time is not
very far distant, we hop^, when legislators will cease attempting to legislate upon
money before they know what money is, and, as a possible help toward such a change.
Professor Jevons deserves the credit of having made a useful contribution to a depart-
ment of study long too much neglected, but of late years, we are gratified to say, be-
coming less so." — The Financier, New York.

XVIII.

The Nature of Light,

WITH A GENERAL ACCOUNT OF PHYSICAL OPTICS.

By Dr. EUGENE LOMMEL

(University of Erlangen).

I vol., i2mo. Cloth. . . . Price, $2.00.

" In the present treatise, Professor Lommel has given an admirable outline of the
nature of light and the laws of optics.

•' Unlike most other writers on this subject, the author has, we think, wisely post-
poned all reference to theories of the nature of light, until the laws of reflection, re-
fraction, and absorption, have been clearly set before the reader. Then, in the fifteenth
chapter. Professor Lommel discusses Fresnel's famous interference experiment, and
leads the reader to see that the undulatory theory is the only conclusion that can be
satisfactorily arrived at. A clear exposition is now given of Huyghen's theory, after
which follow several chapters on the diffraction and polarization of light-bearing waves.

" The reader is thus led onward much in the same way as the science itself has un-
folded, and this, we think, is the surest and best way of teaching natural knowledge.

" Wc have said enough to show that Professor Lommel's treatise is a useful contri-
bution to the 'International Series' — a book that can thoroughly be understood and
enjoyed by any intelligent reader who may not have had any special scientific train-
ing."— Nature.

" In a style singularly lucid, considering the abstruse nature of the subject treated.
Dr. Lommel unfolds the learning of the scientists on the nature and phenomena of
light." — Philadelphia Inquirer.

" As a popular introduction to physical optics, it would be diflScult to find a more
satisfactory work than the one by Dr. Lommel, which has just appeared in the excel-
lent ' International Scientific Series.' " — The English Mechanic.

D. APPLETON & CO., Publishers, 549 & 551 Broadway, N. Y.

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

CONDUCTED BY

L- TST OXJ3S^ -AGISTS -

This periodical was started (in 1872) to promote Vie diffusion ofvaluaVle sd'

«ntijic knowledge, in a readable and attractive form, among all classes

of the commtmity, and has thus far met a want supplied hy

no other magazine in the United States.

Eight volumes have now appeared, which are filled with Instructive and interesting
articles and abstracts of articles, original, selected, translated, and illustrated, from the
pens of the leading scientific men of different countries. Accounts of important scien-
tific discoveries, the application of science to the practical arts, and the latest views put
forth concerning natural phenomena, have been given by savants of the highest au-
thority. Prominent attention has been also devoted to those various sciences which
help to a better understanding of the nature of man, to the bearings of science upon
the questions of society and government, to scientific education, and to the conflicts
which spring from the progressive nature of scientific knowledge.

The Popclak Science Monthly has long since ceased to be an experiment. It
has passed into a circulation far beyond the most sanguine hopes at fii-st entertained,
and the cordial and intelligent approval which it has everywhere met, shows that its
close and instructive discussions have been well appreciated by the reading portion of
the American people. It has not been its policy to make boastful promises of great
things to be done in the future, but rather to appeal to what it has already accom-
plished as giving it a claim upon popular patronage. But no pains will be spared to
improve it and make it still more worthy of hberal support, and still more a necessity
to the cultivated classes of the country.

The Popular Science Monthly is published in a large octavo, handsomely printed
on clear type, and, when the subjects admit, fully illustrated. Each number contains
128 pages.

Terms : $5 per Annum, or Fifty Cents per Number.

Postage free to all Subse.rilers in the United States, from January 1, 1S75.

A new volume of The Popular Science Monthly begins with the numbers for
May and November each year. Subscriptions may commence fi-om any date. Back
numbers supplied.

Kow Ready, Vols. I., IT., III., IV.., V, VL, VII., and VIII, of the Popular
Science Monthly, embracing the numbers from 1 to 48 (May, 1872, to April, 1876).
8 vols., 8vo. Cloth, $3.50 per vol. Half Morocco, $6.50 per voL

For Sale, Binding Cases for Vols. /., //., ///., IV., V, VI., VII., and VITI.,
of The Popular Science Monthly. These covers are prepared expressly for biiidbig
tlie volumes of The Popular Science Monthly as they appear, and will be sent to
Subscribers on receipt of price. Any binder can attach the covers at a trifling expense.
Price, 50 cents each.
Address -O. APPLETON ^ CO., Publishers,

549 &, 551 Broodwny, New York.

14 DAY USE

RETURN TO DESK FROM WHICH BORROWED

LOAN DEPT.

This book is due on the last date stamped below, or

on the date to which renewed.

Renewed books are subject to immediate recall.

i?'=^

'*<>

24Sep'640C

Ml-

" ^960

,7Mar»

,6,mm SEP2 9'64-4PM

JO LD

MAK 9 1961

:£^

^^^'D CD

001 Z 4 -^,

?^..la'641flF

^^•C'D t n

M 1 1 '64 -.-j Pi,

REC'D LD

'!'V^

ssa;;!^

REC'D LD

l"'l i'65-12i^

I 2

s::c7

jwa -s^^-^P^

f 4Ki=^»s ^

mF^mk-

D-

I.n 21A-r,0i»-4.'RO

C£(*?

General Library
varsity, of California

I r-i

I vj nsj 1 vu

THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA UKIARY

Internet Archive Audio

Featured

Top

Images

Featured

Top

Software

Featured

Top

Books

Featured

Top

Video

Featured

Top

Mobile Apps

Browser Extensions

Archive-It Subscription

Save Page Now

Full text of "First principles of a new system of philosophy. --"

See other formats