Kfl

CRITIQUES AND ADDRESSES

CRITIQUES

AND

ADDRESSES.

.
.

BY

THOMAS HENRY HUXLEY, LL.D., F.R.S,

YORK:
IX APPLETON AND COMPANY,

549 & 551 BROADWAY.
1873,

iiuxley is a professor in several scientific
schools of England. He was born at Mid
dlesex in 1825, and studied medicine. In
1846 he was appointed assistant surgeon in the
s British navy, which he remained ti.l 1850.
He became professor in the bchool of Mines
in 1854. His name became prominent when
he was elected to the London School Board
in 1870 He opposed denominational teach
ings and fiercely denounced the Roman
Catholic Church in 1871. He retired from
the board in 1872, and has given his atten
tion to writing on natural sciences since.
His theory is, in brief, that of Darwin, that
all' the species of animal lite originated from
a single germ. His protoplasm is the lowest
form of Hie, the fundamental livin* sub
stance, from which all life is evolved. Cos
mic gas is the primordial gas from which
everything, it is claimed, is made.

PREFACE.

THE "Critiques and Addresses" gathered together in
this volume, like the " Lay Sermons, Addresses, and
Reviews/' published three years ago, deal chiefly with
educational, scientific, and philosophical subjects; and,
in fact, indicate the high-water mark of the various
tides of occupation by which I have been carried along
since the beginning of the year 1870.

In the end of that year, a confidence in my powers
of work, which, unfortunately, has not been justified by
c; vents, led me to allow myself 'to be brought forward
as a candidate for a seat on the London School Board.
Thanks to the energy of my supporters I was elected,
and took my share in the work of that body during
the critical first year of its existence. Then my health
gave way, and I was obliged to resign my place among
colleagues whose large practical knowledge of the
business of primary education, and whose self-sacrificing
zeal in the discharge of the onerous and thankless
duties thrown upon them by the Legislature, made it

vi PEE FACE.

a pleasure to work with them, even though my position
was usually that of a member of the minority.

I mention these circumstances in order to account for
(I had almost said to apologize for) the existence of
the two papers which head the present series, and
which are more or less political, both in the lower and
in the higher senses of that word.

The question of the expediency of any form of
State Education is, in fact, a question of those higher
politics which lie above the region in which Tories,
Whigs, and Eadicals " delight to bark and bite." In
discussing it in my address on " Administrative
Nihilism," I found myself, to my profound regret, led
to diverge very widely (though even more perhaps
in seeming than in reality) from the opinions of a
man of genius to whom I am bound by the twofold
tie of the respect due to a profound philosopher and
the affection given to a very old friend. But had I no
other means of knowing the fact, the kindly geniality of
Mr. Herbert Spencer's reply1 assures me that the tie
to which 1 refer will bear a much heavier strain than
I have put, or ever intend to put, upon it, and I rather
rejoice that I have been the means of calling forth
so vigorous a piece of argumentative writing. Nor
is this disinterested joy at an attack upon myself
diminished by the circumstance, that, in all humility,
but in all sincerity, I think it may be repulsed.

Mr. Spencer compkins that I have first misinterpreted,
and then miscalled, the doctrine of which he is so able

1 "Specialized Administration ;" Fortnightly Review, December 1871.

PEE FACE. vii

an expositor. It would grieve me very much if I
were really open to this charge. But what are the
facts ? I define this doctrine as follows : —

" Those who hold these views support them by two lines of argu
ment. They enforce them deductively by arguing from an assumed
axiom, that the State has no right to do anything but protect its
subjects from aggression. The State is simply a policeman, and its
duty, neither more nor less than to prevent robbery and murder and
enforce contracts. It is not to promote good, nor even to do any
thing to prevent evil, except by the enforcement of penalties upon
those who have been guilty of obvious and tangible assaults upon
purse or person. And, according to this view, the proper form of
government is neither a monarchy, an aristocracy, nor a democracy,
but an asty nomocracy, or police government. On the other hand,
these views are supported d posteriori by an induction from observation,
which professes to show that whatever is clone by a Government
beyond these negative limits, is not only sure to be done badly, but
to be done much worse than private enterprise would have done the
same thing."

I was filled with surprised regret when I learned
from the conclusion of the article on " Specialized
Administration," that this statement is held by Mr.
Spencer to be a misinterpretation of his views. Per
haps I ought to be still more sorry to be obliged to
declare myself, even now, unable to discover where my
misinterpretation lies, or in what respect my presenta
tion of Mr. Spencer's views differs from his own most
recent version of them. As the passage cited above
shows. I have carefully defined the sense in which
I use the terms which I employ, and, therefore, I
am not greatly concerned to defend the abstract
appropriateness of the terms themselves. And when

viii PREFACE.

Mr. Spencer maintains the only proper functions of
Government to be those which are comprehensible under
the description of "Negatively regulative control," I
may suggest that the difference between such " Nega
tive Administration " and " Administrative Nihilism," in
the sense defined by me, is not easily discernible.

Having, as I hope, relieved myself from the suspicion
of having misunderstood or misrepresented Mr. Spencer's
views, I might, if I could forget that I am writing a
preface, proceed to the discussion of the parallel which
he elaborates, with much knowledge and power,
between the physiological and the social organisms.
But this is not the place for a controversy involving
so many technicalities, and I content myself with one
remark, namely, that the whole course of modern
physiological discovery tends to show, with more and
more clearness, that the vascular system, or apparatus
for distributing commodities in the animal organism,
is eminently under the control of the cerebro-spinal
nervous centres — a fact which, unless I am again

7 o

mistaken, is contrary to one of Mr. Spencer's funda
mental assumptions. In the animal organism, Govern
ment does meddle with trade, and even goes so far
as to tamper a good deal with the currency.

In the same number of the Fortnightly Revieiv as
that which contains Mr. Spencer's essay, Miss Helen
Taylor assails me — though, I am bound to admit,
more in sorrow than in anger — for what she terms,
my " New Attack on Toleration/' It is I, this time,

PEE FACE. ix

who may complain of misinterpretation, if the greater
part of Miss Taylor's article (with which I entirely
sympathise) is supposed to be applicable to my "in
tolerance." Let us have full toleration, by all means,
upon all questions in which there is room for doubt,
or which cannot be distinctly proved to affect the
welfare of mankind. But when Miss Taylor has
shown what basis exists for criminal legislation,
except the clear right of mankind not to tolerate that
which is demonstrably contrary to the welfare of
society, I will admit that such demonstration ought
only to be believed in by the " curates and old women "
to whom she refers. Eecent events have not weakened
the conviction I expressed in a much-abused speech
at the London School Board, that Ultramontanism is
demonstrably the enemy of society ; and must be met
with resistance, merely passive if possible, but active
if necessary, by "the whole power of the State."

Next in order, it seems proper that I should briefly
refer to my friend Mr. Mivart's onslaught upon my
criticism of Mr. Darwin's critics, himself among the
number, which will be found in this volume. In
"Evolution and its Consequences"1 I am accused of
misrepresentation, misquotation, misunderstanding, and
numerous other negative and positive literary and
scientific sins ; and much subtle ingenuity is expended
by Mr. Mivart in attempting to extricate himself
from the position in which my exposition of the real

1 Contemporary Review, January 1872.

x PREFACE.

opinions of Father Suarez has placed him. So much
more, in fact, has Mr. Mivart's ingenuity impressed
me than any other feature of his reply, that I shall
take the liberty of re-stating the main issue between
us ; and, for the present, leaving that issue alone to
the judgment of the public.

In his book on the " Genesis of Species " Mr. Mivart,
after discussing the opinions of sundry Catholic writers
of authority, among whom he especially includes St.
Augustin, St. Thomas Aquinas, and the Jesuit Suarez,
proceeds to say : " It is then evident that ancient
and most venerable theological -authorities distinctly
assert derivative creation, and thus their teachings
harmonize with all that modern science can possibly
require," l By the " derivative creation " of organic
forms, Mr. Mivart understands, " that God created
them by conferring on the material world the power
to evolve them under suitable conditions."

On the contrary, I proved by evidence, which Mr.
Mivart does not venture to impugn, that Suarez,
in his "Tractatus de Opere sex Dierum/' expressly
rejects St. Augustin's and St. Thomas' views ; that he
vehemently advocates the literal interpretation of the
account of the creation given in the Book of Genesis ;
and that he treats with utter scorn the notion that
the Almighty could have used the language of that
Book, unless He meant it to be taken literally.

Mr. Mivart, therefore, either has read Suarez and
has totally misrepresented him — a hypothesis which, I
hope I need hardly say, I do not for a moment enr

PREFACE. xi

tertain : or, he lias got his information at second
hand, and has himself been deceived. But in that
case, it is surely an imprudence on his part, to
reproach me with having "read Suarez ad hoc, and
evidently without the guidance of anyone familiar with
that author." No doubt, in the matter of guidance,
Mr. Mivart has the advantage of me. Nevertheless, the
guides who supplied him with his references to Suarez'
" Metaphysica," while they left him in ignorance of the
existence of the " Tractatus," are guides with whose
services it might be better to dispense; leaders who
wilfully shut their eyes, being even more liable to
lodge one in a ditch, than blind leaders.

At the time when the essay on " Methods and Results
C'f Ethnology" was written, I had not met with a
passage in Professor Max Miiller's "Last Results of
Turanian Researches"1 which shows so appositely, that
the profoundest study of philology leads to conclusions
respecting the relation of Ethnology with Philology,
similar to those at which I had arrived in approaching
the question from the Anatomist's side, that I cannot
refrain from quoting it :

"Nor should we, in our phonological studies, either expect or
desire more than general hints from physical ethnology. The proper
and rational connection between the two sciences is that of mutual
advice and suggestion, but nothing more. Much of the confusion of
terms and indistinctness of principles, both in Ethnology and Phono.
logy, are due to the combined study of these heterogeneous sciences.

Bunsen's " Outlines of the Philosophy of Universal History," vol. i.
p. 349. 1854.

xii PEE FACE.

Ethnological race and phonological race are not commensurate, except
in ante-historical times, or perhaps at the very dawn of history.
With the migration of tribes, their wars, their colonies, their conquests
and alliances, which, if we may judge from their effects, must have
been much more violent in the ethnic, than even in the political,
period of history, it is impossible to imagine that race and language
should continue to run parallel. The physiologist should pursue his
own science unconcerned about language."

It is further desirable to remark that the statements
in this Essay respecting the forms of Native American
crania need rectification. On this point, I refer the
reader who is interested in the subject to my paper
" On the Form of the Cranium among the Patagonians
and the Fuegians" published in the Journal of
Anatomy and Physiology for 1868.

If the problem discussed in my address to the British
Association in 1870 has not yet received its solution,
it is not because the champions of t Abiogenesis have
been idle, or wanting in confidence. But every new
assertion on their side has been met by a counter
assertion ; and though the public may have been led
to believe that so much noise must indicate rapid
progress, one way or the other, an impartial critic will
admit, with sorrow, that the question has been " marking
time " rather than marching. In mere sound, these two
processes are not so very different.

LONDON, April 1873.

CONTENTS.

I.

PAGE

ADMINISTRATIVE NIHILISM. (An Address delivered to the Members
of the Midland Institute, on the JHh of October, 1871, and subse
quently published in the Fortnightly Review) 3

II.

THE SCHOOL BOARDS : WHAT THEY CAN DO, AND WHAT THEY MAY

DO. (The Contemporary Review, 1870) 33

III.

ON MEDICAL EDUCATION. (An Address to the Students of the

Faculty of Medicine in University College, London, 1870) . . 56

IV.

YEAST. (The Contemporary Review, 1871) 71

V.

ON THE FORMATION OF COAL. (A Lecture delivered before the
Members of the Bradford Philosophical Institution, and subse
quently published in the Contemporary Review} 92

VI.

ON CORAL AND CORAL HEEFS. ( Good Words, 1870) Ill

xiv CONTENTS.

VII.

;' FAQB

ON THE METHODS AND RESULTS OF ETHNOLOGY. (The Fortnightly

Review, 1865) 134

VIII.

ON SOME FIXED POINTS IN BRITISH ETHNOLOGY. (The Contemporary

Review, 1871) 167

IX.

PALEONTOLOGY AND THE DOCTRINE OF EVOLUTION. (The Presidential

Address to the Geological Society, 1870) 181

X.

MR. DARWIN'S CRITICS. (The Contemporary Review, 1871) . . . . 218

XI.

THE GENEALOGY OF ANIMALS. (A Keview of HaeckeVs " Natiirlichc

Schepfungs-Geschichte." The A cademy, 1869) ... . . 270

XII.

BISHOP BERKELEY ON THE METAPHYSICS OF SENSATION. (Mac-

millaris Magazine, 1871) 287

CEITIQUES AND ADDKESSES.

I.

ADMINISTEATIYE NIHILISM.

(AN ADDRESS TO THE MEMBERS OF THE MIDLAND INSTITUTE,
OCTOBER 9TII, 1871.)

To me, and, as I trust, to the great majority of those
whom I address, the great attempt to educate the people
of England which has just been set afoot, is one of the
most satisfactory and hopeful events in our modern
history. But it is impossible, even if it were desirable,
to shut our eyes to the fact, that there is a minority, not
inconsiderable in numbers, nor deficient in supporters of
weight and authority, in whose judgment all this legis
lation is a step in the wrong direction, false in principle,
and consequently sure to produce evil in practice.

The arguments employed by these objectors are of
two kinds. The first is what I will venture to term the
caste argument ; for, if logically carried out, it would
end in the separation of the people of this country into
castes, as permanent and as sharply defined, if not as
numerous, as those of India. It is maintained that the
whole fabric of society will be destroyed if the poor, as
well as the rich, are educated ; that anything like sound
and good education will only make them discontented
with their station and raise hopes which, in the great

4 CRITIQUES AND ADDRESSES. [i.

majority of cases, will be bitterly disappointed. It is
said : There must be hewers of wood and drawers of
water, scavengers and coalheavers, day labourers and
domestic servants, or the work of society will come to a
standstill. But, if you educate and refine everybody,
nobody will be content to assume these functions, and
all the world will want to be gentlemen and ladies.

One hears this argument most frequently from the
representatives of the well-to-do middle class ; and,
coming from them, it strikes me as peculiarly incon
sistent, as the one thing they admire, strive after, and
advise their own children to do, is to get on in the world,
and, if possible, rise out of the class in which they were
born into that above them. Society needs grocers and
merchants as much as it needs coalheavers ; but if a
merchant accumulates wealth and works his way to a
baronetcy, or if the son of a greengrocer becomes a lord
chancellor, or an archbishop, or, as a successful soldier,
wins a peerage, all the world admires them ; and looks
with pride upon the social system which renders such
achievements possible. Nobody suggests that there is
anything wrong in their being discontented with their
station ; or that, in their cases society suffers by men of
ability reaching the positions for which nature has
fitted them.

But there are better replies than those of the tu quoque
sort to the caste argument. In the first place, it is not
true that education, as such, unfits men for rough and
laborious, or even disgusting, occupations. The life of a
sailor is rougher and harder than that of nine landsmen
out of ten, and yet, as every ship's captain knows, no
sailor was ever the worse for possessing a trained
intelligence. The life of a medical practitioner, es
pecially in the country, is harder and more laborious
than that of most artisans, and he is constantly obliged

I.] ADMINISTRATIVE N.

~"X^*»^ ~" ^^ ^ w ~^->*£*&^

to do things which, in point of pleasantness, cannot be
ranked above scavengering — yet he always ought to be,
and he frequently is, a highly educated man. In the
second place, though it may be granted that the words
of the catechism, which require a man to do his duty in
the station to which it has pleased God to call him, give
an admirable definition of our obligation to ourselves
and to society ; yet the question remains, how is any
given person to find out what is the particular station
to which it has pleased God to call him ? A new-born
infant does not come into the world labelled scavenger,
shopkeeper, bishop, or duke. One mass of red pulp is
just like another to all outward appearance. And it is
only by finding out what his faculties are good for, and
seeking, not for the sake of gratifying a paltry vanity,
but as the highest duty to himself and to his fellow-men,
to put himself into the position in which they can attain
their full development, that the man discovers his true
station. That which is to be lamented, I fancy, is not
that society should do its utmost to help capacity to
ascend from the lower strata to the higher, but that it
has no machinery by which to facilitate the descent of
incapacity from the higher strata to the lower. In that
noble romance, the " Eepublic " (which is now, thanks to
the Master of Balliol, as intelligible to us all, as if it
had been written in our mother tongue), Plato makes
Socrates say that he should like to inculcate upon the
citizens of his ideal state just one " royal lie."

"' Citizens,' we shall say to them in our tale — ' You are brothers;
yet God has framed you differently. Some of you have the power of
command, and these he has composed of gold, wherefore also they
have the greatest honour ; others of silver, to be auxiliaries j others
again, who are to be husbandmen and craftsmen, he has made of brass
and iron ; and the species will generally be preserved in the children.
])ut as you are of the same original family, a golden parent will some
times have a silver son, or a silver parent a golden sou. And God

6 CRITIQUES AND ADDRESSES. [i.

proclaims to the rulers, as a first principle, that before all they should
watch over their offspring, and see what elements mingle with their
nature ; for if the son of a golden or silver parent has an admixture of
brass and iron, then nature orders a transposition of ranks, and the
eye of the ruler must not be pitiful towards his child because he has
to descend in the scale and become a husbandman or artisan ; just as
there may be others sprung from the artisan class, who are raised to
honour, and become guardians and auxiliaries. For an oracle says that
when a man of brass or iron guards the State, it will then be
destroyed.' " l

Time, whose tootli gnaws away everything else, is
powerless against truth ; and the lapse of more than two
thousand years has not weakened the force of these wise
words. Nor is it necessary that, as Plato suggests,
society should provide functionaries expressly charged
with the performance of the difficult duty of picking out
the men of brass from those of silver and gold. Educate,
and the latter will certainly rise to the top ; remove all
those artificial props by which the brass and iron folk
are kept at the top, and, by a law as sure as that of
gravitation, they will gradually sink to the bottom. "We
have all known noble lords who would have been coach
men, or gamekeepers, or billiard-markers, if they had
not been kept afloat by our social corks ; we have all
known men among the lowest ranks, of whom every
one has said, "What might not that man have become,
if he had only had a little education ? "

And who that attends, even in the most superficial
way, to the conditions upon which the stability of
modern society — and especially of a society like ours, in
which recent legislation has placed sovereign authority
in the hands of the masses, whenever they are united
enough to wield their power — can doubt that every man
of high natural ability, who is both ignorant and miser-

1 " The Dialogues of Plato." Translated into English, with Analysis and Intro
duction, by B. Jowett, M.A. Vol. ii. p. 213.

i.] ADMINISTRATIVE NIHILISM. 7

able, is as great a danger to society as a rocket without a
stick is to the people who fire it ? Misery is a match that
never goes out ; genius, as an explosive power, beats gun
powder hollow ; and if knowledge, which should give
that power guidance, is wanting, the chances are not
small that the rocket will simply run a-muck among
friends and foes. What gives force to the socialistic
movement which is now stirring European society to its
depths, but a determination on the part of the naturally
able men among the proletariat, to put an end, somehow
or other, to the misery and degradation in which a large
proportion of their fellows are steeped ? The question,
whether the means by which they purpose to achieve
this end are adequate or not, is at this moment the most
important of all political questions — and it is beside my
present purpose to discuss it. All I desire to point out
is, that if the chance of the controversy being decided
calmly and rationally, and not by passion and force,
looks miserably small to an impartial bystander, the
reason is that not one in ten thousand of those who
constitute the ultimate court of appeal, by which ques
tions of the utmost difficulty, as well as of the most
momentous gravity, will have to be decided, is prepared
by education to comprehend the real nature of the suit
brought before their tribunal.

Finally, as to the ladies and gentlemen question, all I
can say is, would that every woman-child born into this
world were trained to be a lady, and every man-child a
gentleman! But then I do not use those much-abused
words by way of distinguishing people who wear fine
clothes, and live in fine houses, and talk aristocratic
slang, from those who go about in fustian, and live in
back slums, and talk gutter slang. Some inborn plebeian
blindness, in fact, prevents me from understanding what
advantage the former have over the latter. I have never

8 CEITIQUES AND ADDRESSES. [i.

even been able to understand why pigeon-shooting at
Huiiingham should be refined and polite, while a rat-
killing match in "YVhitcchapel is low ; or why " What a
lark " should be coarse, when one hears " How awfully
jolly" drop from the most refined lips twenty times in

an evening.

Thoughtfulness for others, generosity, modesty, and
self-respect, are the qualities which make a real gentle
man, or lady, as distinguished from the veneered article
which commonly goes by that name. I by no means
wish to express any sentimental preference for Lazarus
against Dives, but, on the face of the matter, one does
not see why the practice of these virtues should be more
difficult in one state of life than another ; and any one
who has had a wide experience among all sorts and con
ditions of men, will, I think, agree with me that they are
as common in the lower ranks of life as in the higher.

Leaving the caste argument aside then, as inconsist
ent with the practice of those who employ it, as devoid
of any justification in theory, and as utterly mischievous
if its logical consequences were carried out, let us turn
to the other class of objectors. To these opponents, the
Education Act is only one of a number of pieces of
legislation to which they object on principle ; and they
include under like condemnation the Vaccination Act,
the Contagious Diseases Act, and all other sanitary Acts ;
all attempts on the part of the State to prevent adultera
tion, or to regulate injurious trades ; all legislative
interference with anything that bears directly or in
directly on commerce, such as shipping, harbours, rail
ways, roads, cab-fares, and the carriage of letters ; and
all attempts to promote the spread of knowledge by the
establishment of teaching bodies, examining bodies,
libraries, or museums, or by the sending out of scientific
expeditions ; all endeavours to advance art by the

L] ADMINISTRATIVE NIHILISM. 9

establishment of schools of design, or picture galleries ;
or by spending money upon an architectural public
building when a brick box would answer the purpose.
According to their views, not a shilling of public money
must be bestowed upon a public park or pleasure-
ground ; not sixpence upon the relief of starvation, or
the cure of disease. Those who hold these views support
them by two lines of argument. They enforce them
deductively by arguing from an assumed axiom, that the
State has no right to do anything but protect its subjects
from aggression. The State is simply a policeman, and
its duty is neither more nor less than to prevent robbery
and murder and enforce contracts. It is not to promote
good, nor even to do anything to prevent evil, except by
the enforcement of penalties upon those who have been
guilty of obvious and tangible assaults upon purses or
persons. And, according to this view, the proper form
of government is neither a monarchy, an aristocracy, nor
a democracy, but an asty nomocracy, or police govern
ment. On the other hand, these views are supported d
posteriori, by an induction from observation, which pro-
1 esses to show that whatever is done by a Government
beyond these negative limits, is not only sure to be done
badly, but to be done much worse than private enterprise
would have done the same thing.

I am by no means clear as to the truth of the latter
proposition. It is generally supported by statements
which prove clearly enough that the State does a great
many things very badly. But this is really beside the
question. The State lives in a glass house ; we see what
it tries to do, and all its failures, partial or total, are
made the most of. But private enterprise is sheltered
under good opaque bricks and mortar. The public
rarely knows what it tries to do, and only hears of failures
when they are gross and patent to all the world. Who

10 CRITIQUES AND ADDRESSES. [t.

is to say how private enterprise would come out if it
tried its hand at State work ? Those who have had most
experience of joint-stock companies and their manage
ment, will probably be least inclined to believe in the
innate superiority of private enterprise over State man
agement. If continental bureaucracy and centralization
be fraught with multitudinous evils, surely English
beadleocracy and parochial obstruction are not altogether
lovely. If it be said that, as a matter of political expe
rience, it is found to be for the best interests, including
the healthy and free development, of a people, that the
State should restrict itself to what is absolutely necessary,
and should leave to the voluntary efforts of individuals
as much as voluntary effort can be got to do, nothing
can be more just. But, on the other hand, it seems to
me that nothing can be less justifiable than the dogmatic
assertion that State interference, beyond the limits of
home and foreign police, must, under all circumstances,
do harm.

Suppose, however, for the sake of argument, that we
accept the proposition that the functions of the State
may be properly summed up in the one great negative
commandment, — " Thou shalt not allow any man to
interfere with the liberty of any other man," — I am
unable to see that the logical consequence is any such
restriction of the power of Government, as its sup
porters imply. If my next-door neighbour chooses to
have his drains in such a state as to create a poisonous
atmosphere, which I breathe at the risk of typhus and
diphtheria, he restricts my just freedom to live just as
much as if he went about with a pistol, threatening my
life ; if he is to be allowed to let his children go unvac-
cinated, he might as well be allowed to leave strychnine
lozenges about in the way of mine ; and if he brings
them up untaught and untrained to earn their living, he

i.J ADMINISTRATIVE NIHILISM. 11

is doing his best to restrict my freedom, by increasing
the burden of taxation for the support of gaols and
workhouses, which I have to pay.

The higher the state of civilization, the more completely
do the actions of one member of the social body influence
all the rest, and the less possible is it for any one man to
do a wrong thing without interfering, more or less, with
th 3 freedom of all his fellow-citizens. So that, even upon
the narrowest view of the functions of the State, it must
be admitted to have wider powers than the advocates of
the police theory are disposed to admit.

It is urged, I am aware, that if the right of the State
to step beyond the assigned limits is admitted at all,
there is no stopping ; and that the principle which justi
fies the State in enforcing vaccination or education, will
also justify it in prescribing my religious belief, or my
mode of carrying on my trade or profession ; in deter
mining the number of courses I have for dinner, or the
pattern of my waistcoat.

But surely the answer is obvious that, on similar
grounds, the right of a man to eat when he is hungry
might be disputed, because if you once allow that he may
cat at all, there is no stopping him until he gorges
himself, and suffers all the ills of a surfeit. In practice,
the man leaves off when reason tells him he has had
enough ; and, in a properly organized State, the Govern
ment, being nothing but the corporate reason of the
community, will soon find out when State interference
has been carried far enough. And, so far as my
acquaintance with those who carry on the business of
Government goes, I must say that I find them far less
eager to interfere with the people, than the people are to
be interfered with. And the reason is obvious. The
people are keenly sensible of particular evils, and, like a
man suffering from pain, desire an immediate remedy.
2

12 CRITIQUES AND ADDRESSES. [i.

The statesman, on the other hand, is like the physician, who
knows that he can stop the pain at once by an opiate ;
but who also knows that the opiate may do more harm
than good in the long run. In three cases out of four
the wisest thing he can do is to wait, and leave the case
to nature. But in the fourth case, in which the symptoms
are unmistakable, and the cause of the disease distinctly
known, prompt remedy saves a life. Is the fact that
a wise physician will give as little medicine as possible
any argument for his abstaining from giving any at all ?

But the argument may be met directly. It may be
granted that the State, or corporate authority of the
people, might with perfect propriety order my religion, or
my waistcoat, if as good grounds could be assigned for
such an order as for the command to educate my children.
And this leads us to the question which lies at the root
of the whole discussion — the question, namely, upon
what foundation does the authority of the State rest,
and how arc the limits of that authority to be deter
mined ?

One of the oldest and profoundest of English philoso
phers, Hobbcs of Malmesbury, writes thus : —

"The office of the sovereign, be it monarch or an assembly, con-
sisteth in the end for which he was entrusted with the sovereign
power, namely, the procuration of the safety of the people : to which ho
is obliged by the law of nature, and to render an account thereof to
God, the author of that law, and to none but Him. But by safety,
here, is not meant a bare preservation, but also all other contentments
of life, which every man by lawful industry, without danger or hurt to
the commonwealth, shall acquire to himself."

At first sight this may appear to be a statement of the
police-theory of government, pure and simple ; but it is
not so. For Hobbes goes on to say : —

" And this is intended should be done, not by care applied to in
dividuals, further than their protection from injuries, when they shall

I.] ADMINISTRATIVE NIHILISM. 13

complain ; but by a general providence contained in public instruction
both of doctrine and example ; and in the making and executing of
good laws to which individual persons may apply their own cases." x

To a witness of the civil war between Charles I. and
the Parliament, it is not wonderful that the dissolution
of the bonds of society which is involved in such strife
should appear to be " the greatest evil that can happen
in this life;" and all who have read the "Leviathan"
know to what length Hobbes's anxiety for the preserva
tion of the authority of the representative of the sove
reign power, whatever its shape, leads him. But the
justice of his conception of the duties of the sovereign
power does not seem to me to be invalidated by his mon
strous doctrines respecting the sacredness of that power.

To Hobbes, who lived during the break-up of the
sovereign power by popular force, society appeared to be
threatened by everything which weakened that power :
but, to John Locke, who witnessed the evils which flow
from the attempt of the sovereign power to destroy the
rights of the people by fraud and violence, the danger
lay in the other direction.

The safety of the representative of the sovereign
power itself is to Locke a matter of very small moment,
und he contemplates its abolition when it ceases to do
its duty, and its replacement by another, as a matter of
course. The great champion of the revolution of 1688
could do no less. Nor is it otherwise than natural that
he should seek to limit, rather than to enlarge, the powers
of the State, though in substance he entirely agrees with
Hobbes's view of its duties : —

" But though men," says he, " when they enter into society, give
up the equality, liberty, and executive power they had in the state of
nature, into the hands of the society, to be so far disposed of by the
Legislature as the good of society shall require ; yet it being only with

1 " Leviathan," Moleswortli's ed. p. 322.

14 CRITIQUES AND ADDRESSES. [i

an intention in every one the better to preserve himself, his liberty
and property (for no rational creature can be supposed to change his
condition with an intention to be worse), the power of the society, or
legislation, constituted by them can never be supposed to extend fur
ther than the common good, but is obliged to secure every one's pro
perty by providing against those three defects above mentioned, that
made the state of nature so unsafe and uneasy. And so, whoever has
the legislative or supreme power of any commonwealth, is bound to
govern by established standing laws, promulgated and known to the
people, and not by extemporary decrees ; by indifferent and upright
judges, who are to decide controversies by those laws : and to employ
the force of the community at home only in the execution of such
laws; or abroad, to prevent or redress foreign injuries, and secure
the community from inroads and invasion. And all this to be
directed to no other end than the peace, safety, and public good of
the people." 1

Just as in the case of Hobbcs, so in that of Locke, it
may at first sight appear from this passage that the latter
philosopher's views of the functions of Government
incline to the negative, rather than the positive, side.
But a further study of Locke's writings will at once
remove this misconception. In the famous " Letter con
cerning Toleration," Locke says : —

" The commonwealth seems to me to be a society of men con
stituted only for the procuring, preserving, and advancing their own
civil interests.

"Civil interests I call life, liberty, health, and indolency of body;
and the possession of outward things, such as money, lands, houses,
furniture, and the like.

" It is the duty of the civil magistrate, by the impartial execution
of equal laws, to secure unto all the people in general, and to every
one of his subjects in particular, the just possession of those things
belonging to this life.

". . . The whole jurisdiction of the magistrate reaches only to
these civil concernments. . . . All civil power, right, and dominion, is
bounded and confined to the only care of promoting these things."

Elsewhere in the same " Letter," Locke lays down the
proposition that if the magistrate understand washing a

1 Locke's Essay, " Of Civil Government," § 131.

'•] ADMINISTRATIVE NIHILISM. 15

child "to be profitable to the curing or preventing any
disease that children are subject unto, and esteem the
matter weighty enough to be taken care of by a law, in
that case he may order it to be done."

Locke seems to differ most widely from Hobbes by his
strong advocacy of a certain measure of toleration in
religious matters. But the reason why the civil magis
trate ought to leave religion alone is, according to Locke,
simply this, that " true and saving religion consists in the
inward persuasion of the mind." And since " such is the
nature of the understanding that it cannot be compelled
to the belief of anything by outward force," it is absurd
to attempt to make men religious by compulsion. I
cannot discover that Locke fathers the pet doctrine of
modern Liberalism, that the toleration of error is a good
thing in itself, and to be reckoned among the cardinal
virtues ; on the contrary, in this very " Letter on Tolera
tion " he states in the clearest language that " No opinion
contrary to human society, or to those moral rules which
are necessary to the preservation of civil society, are to
be tolerated by the magistrate." And the practical corol
lary which he draws from this proposition is that there
ought to be no toleration for either Papists or Atheists.

After Locke's time the negative view of the functions
of Government gradually grew in strength, until it
obtained systematic and able expression in Wilhelm von
Humboldt's " Ideen," * the essence of which is the
denial that the State has a right to be anything more
than chief policeman. And, of late years, the belief in
the efficacy of doing nothing, thus formulated, has
acquired considerable popularity for several reasons.
In the first place, men's speculative convictions have
become less and less real ; their tolerance is large

1 Aii English translation has been published under the title of " Essay on the
Sphere and Duties of Government."

16 CRITIQUES AND ADDRESSES. [i,

because their belief is small ; they know that the State
had better leave things alone unless it has a clear know
ledge about them ; and, with reason, they suspect that
the knowledge of the governing power may stand no
higher than the very low watermark of their own.

In the second place, men have become largely ab
sorbed in the mere accumulation of wealth ; and as this
is a matter in which the plainest and strongest form of
self-interest is intensely concerned, science (in the shape
of Political Economy) has readily demonstrated that
self-interest may be safely left to find the best way of
attaining its ends. Eapidity and certainty of inter
course between different countries, the enormous deve
lopment of the powers of machinery, and general peace
(however interrupted by brief periods of warfare), have
changed the face of commerce as completely as modern
artillery has changed that of war. The merchant found
himself as much burdened by ancient protective measures
as the soldier by his armour — and negative legislation
has been of as much use to the one as the stripping off
of breast-plates, greaves, and buff-coat to the other.
But because the soldier is better without his armour it
does not exactly follow that it is desirable that our
defenders should strip themselves stark naked ; and it is
not more apparent why laissez-faire — great and benefi
cial as it may be in all that relates to the accumulation
of wealth — should be the one great commandment which
the State is to obey in all other matters ; and especially
in those in which the justification of laissez-faire,
namely, the keen insight given by the strong stimulus
of direct personal interest, in matters clearly understood,
is entirely absent.

Thirdly, to the indifference generated by the absence
of fixed beliefs, and to the confidence in the efficacy of
laissez faire, apparently justified by experience of the

i.] ADMINISTRATIVE NIHILISM. 17

value of that principle when applied to the pursuit of
wealth, there must be added that nobler and better
reason for a profound distrust of legislative interference,
which animates Von Humboldt and shines forth in the
prges of Mr. Mill's famous Essay on Liberty — I mean
the just fear lest the end should be sacrificed to the
means ; lest freedom and variety should be drilled and
disciplined out of human life in order that the great
mill of the State should grind smoothly.

One of the profoundcst of living English philosophers,
who is at the same time the most thoroughgoing and
consistent of the champions of astynomocracy, has de
voted a very able and ingenious essay1 to the drawing
out of a comparison between the process by which men
have advanced from the savage state to the highest
civilization, and that by which an animal passes from
the condition of an almost shapeless and structureless
germ, to that in which it exhibits a highly complicated
structure and a corresponding diversity of powers. Mr.
Spencer says with great justice—

" That they gradually increase in mass j that they become, little
by little, more complex ; that, at the same time, their parts grow
more mutually dependent ; and that they continue to live and grow
as wholes, while successive generations of their units appear and dis
appear, — are broad peculiarities which bodies politic display, in common
with all living bodies, and in which they and living bodies differ from
everything else."

In a very striking passage of this essay Mr. Spencer
shows with what singular closeness a parallel between
the development of a nervous system, which is the
governing power of the body in the series of animal
organisms, and that of government, in the series of social
organisms, can be drawn : —

" Strange as the assertion will be thought," says Mr. Spencer, "our
Houses of Parliament discharge in the social economy functions that

1 " The Social Organism : " Essays. Second Series.

18 CRITIQUES AND ADDRESSES. [i.

are, in sundry respects, comparable to those discharged by the cerebral

masses in a vertebrate animal The cerebrum co-ordinates

the countless heterogeneous considerations which affect the present
and future welfare of the individual as a whole ; and the Legislature
co-ordinates the countless heterogeneous considerations which affect
the immediate and remote welfare of the whole community. We
may describe the office of the brain as that of averaging the interests
of life, physical, intellectual, moral, social; and a good brain is one in
which the desires answering to their respective interests are so balanced,
that the conduct they jointly dictate sacrifice none of them. Similarly
we may describe the office of Parliament as that of averaging the
interests of the various classes in a community ; and a good Parlia
ment is one in which the parties answering to these respective interests
are so balanced, that their united legislation concedes to each class as
much as consists with the claims of the rest."

All this appears to be very just. But if the resemblances
between the body physiological and the body politic are
any indication, not only of what the latter is, and how
it has become what it is, but of what it ought to be, and
what it is tending to become, I cannot but think that
the real force of the analogy is totally opposed to the
negative view of State function.

Suppose that, in accordance with this view, each
muscle were to maintain that the nervous system had no
right to interfere with its contraction, except to prevent
it from hindering the contraction of another muscle ; or
each gland, that it had a right to secrete, so long as its
secretion interfered with no other ; suppose every sepa
rate cell left free to follow its own " interests/' and
laissez-faire lord of all, what would become of the
body physiological ?

The fact is that the sovereign power of the body
thinks for the physiological organism, acts for it, and
rules the individual components with a rod of iron.
Even the blood-corpuscles can't hold a public meeting
without being accused of " congestion " — and the brain,
like other despots whom we have known, calls out at

i,] ADMINISTRATIVE NIHILISM. 19

once for the use of sharp steel against them. As in
Hobbes's "Leviathan," the representative of the sove
reign authority in the living organism, though he de
rives all his powers from the mass which he rules, is
above the law. The questioning of his authority in
volves death, or that partial death which we call para
lysis. Hence, if the analogy of the body politic with
the body physiological counts for anything, it seems
to me to be in favour of a much larger amount of
governmental interference than exists at present, or
than I, for one, at all desire to see. But, tempting as
the opportunity is, I am not disposed to build up any
argument in favour of my own case upon this analogy,
curious, interesting, and in many respects close, as it
is, for it takes no cognizance of certain profound and
essential differences between the physiological and the
political bodies.

Much as the notion of a " social contract " has been
ridiculed, it nevertheless seems to be clear enough, that
all social organization whatever depends upon what is
substantially a contract, whether expressed or implied,
between the members of the society. No society ever
was, or ever can be, really held together by force. It
may seem a paradox to say that a slaveholder does not
make his slaves work by force, but by agreement. And
yet it is true. There is a contract between the two
which, if it were written out, would run in these terms :
— " I undertake to feed, clothe, house, and not to kill,
flog, or otherwise maltreat you, Quashie, if you perform
a certain amount of work." Quashie, seeing no better
terms to be had, accepts the bargain, and goes to work
accordingly. A highwayman who garottes me, and
then clears out my pockets, robs me by force in the
strict sense of the words ; but if he puts a pistol to my
head and demands my money or my life, and I, prefer-

20 CRITIQUES AND ADDRESSES. [i.

ring the latter, hand over my purse, we have virtually
made a contract, and I perform one of the terms of that
contract. If, nevertheless, the highwayman subsequently
shoots me, everybody will see that, in addition to the
crimes of murder and theft, he has been guilty of a
breach of contract.

A despotic Government, therefore, though often a mere
combination of slaveholding and highway robbery, never
theless implies a contract between governor and governed,
with voluntary submission on the part of the latter ; and
d fortiori, all other forms of government are in like case.

Now a contract between any two men implies a
restriction of the freedom of each in certain particulars.
The highwayman gives up his freedom to shoot me, on
condition of my giving up my freedom to do as I like
with my money : I give up my freedom to kill Quashie,
on condition of Quashie's giving up his freedom to be
idle. And the essence and foundation of every social
organization, whether simple or complex, is the fact that
each member of the society voluntarily renounces his
freedom in certain directions, in return for the advan
tages which he expects from association with the other
members of that society. Nor are constitutions, laws, or
manners, in ultimate analysis, anything but so many
expressed or implied contracts between the members of
a society to do this, or abstain from that.

It appears to me that this feature constitutes the dif
ference between the social and the physiological organism.
Among the higher physiological organisms, there is none
which is developed by the conjunction of a number of
primitively independent existences into a complex whole.
The process of social organization appears to be com
parable, not so much to the process of organic develop
ment, as to the synthesis of the chemist, by which inde
pendent elements arc gradually built up into complex

i.] ADMINISTRATIVE NIHILISM. 21

aggregations — in which each element retains an inde
pendent individuality, though held in subordination to
die whole. The atoms of carbon and hydrogen, oxygen,
nitrogen, which enter into a complex molecule, do not
lose the powers originally inherent in them, when they
unite to form that molecule, the properties of which
express those forces of .the whole aggregation which are
not neutralized and balanced by one another. Each
atom has given up something, in order that the atomic
society, or molecule, may subsist. And as soon as any
one or more of the atoms thus associated resumes the
freedom which it has renounced, and follows some
external attraction, the molecule is broken up, and all
the peculiar properties which depended upon its consti
tution vanish.

Every society, great or small, resembles such a com
plex molecule, in which the atoms are represented by
men, possessed of all those multifarious attractions and
repulsions which, are manifested in their desires and
volitions, the unlimited power of satisfying which, we
call freedom. The social molecule exists in virtue of the
renunciation of more or less of this freedom by every
individual. It is decomposed, when the attraction of
desire leads to the resumption of that freedom, the sup
pression of which is essential to the existence of the
social molecule. And the great problem of that social
chemistry we call politics, is to discover what desires of
mankind may be gratified, and what must be suppressed,
if the highly complex compound, society, is to avoid
decomposition. That the gratification of some of men's
desires shall be renounced is essential to order ; that the
satisfaction of others shall be permitted is no less
essential to progress ; and the business of the sovereign
authority — which is, or ought' to be, simply a delegation
of the people appointed to act for its good — appears to

22 CRITIQUES AND ADDRESSES. [1.

me to he, not only to enforce the renunciation of the
anti-social desires, but, wherever it may be necessary, to
promote the satisfaction of those which are conducive to
progress.

The great metaphysician, Immanuel Kant, who is at
his greatest when he discusses questions which are not
metaphysical, wrote, nearly a century ago, a wonderfully
instructive essay entitled "A Conception of Universal
History in relation to Universal Citizenship," 1 from which
I will borrow a few pregnant sentences : —

"The means of which Nature has availed herself, in order to bring
about the development of all the capacities of man, is the antagonism
of those capacities to social organization, so far as the latter does in
the long run necessitate their definite correlation. By antagonism, I
here mean the unsocial sociability of mankind — that is, the combina
tion in them of an impulse to enter into society, with a thorough
spirit of opposition which constantly threatens to break up this
society. The ground of this lies in human nature. Man has an
inclination to enter into society, because in that state he feels that he
becomes more a man, or, in other words, that his natural faculties
develop. But he has also a great tendency to isolate himself, because
he is, at the same time, aware of the unsocial peculiarity of desiring
to have everything his own way ; and thus, being conscious of an
inclination to oppose others, he is naturally led to expect opposition
from them.

"Now it is this opposition which awakens all the dormant powers
of men, stimulates them to overcome their inclination to be idle, and,
spurred by the love of honour, or power, or wealth, to make them
selves a place among their fellows, whom they can neither do with,
nor do without.

"Thus they make the first steps from brutishness towards culture,
of which the social value of man is the measure. Thus all talents
become gradually developed, taste is formed, and by continual en
lightenment the foundations of a way of thinking are laid, which
gradually changes the mere rude capacity of moral perception into

1 " Idee zu cincr allgemeinen Geschiolite in weltbiirgerliclicn Absiclit," 1784.
This paper Las been translated by DC Quincey, and attention has been recently
drawn to its " signal merits " by the Editor of the Fortnightly Review in his'
Essay on Condorcet. (Fortnightly Review, No. xxxviii. N.S. pp. 130, 137.)

I.] ADMINISTRATIVE NIHILISM. 23

determinate practical principles; and thus society, which is originated
by a sort of pathological compulsion, becomes metamorphosed into a
moral unity." (Loc. cit. p. 147.)

"All the culture and art which adorn humanity, the most refined
social order, are produced by that unsociability which is compelled by
its own existence to discipline itself, and so by enforced art to bring
the seeds implanted by nature into full flower." (Loc. cit. p. 148.)

In these passages, as in others of this remarkable tract,
Kant anticipates the application of the "struggle for
existence " to politics, and indicates the manner in which
the evolution of society has resulted from the constant
attempt of individuals to strain its bonds. If indivi
duality has no play, society does not advance ; if indi
viduality breaks out of all bounds, society perishes.

But when men living in society once become aware
.that their welfare depends upon two opposing tendencies
of equal importance — the one restraining, the other
encouraging, individual freedom — the question "What
are the functions of Government?" is translated into
another — namely, What ought we men, in our corporate
capacity, to do, not only in the way of restraining that
free individuality which is inconsistent with the existence
of society, but in encouraging that free individuality
which is essential to the evolution of the social organiza
tion ? The formula which truly defines the function of
Government must contain the solution of both the
problems involved, and not merely of one of them.

Locke has furnished us with such a formula, in the
noblest, and at the same time briefest, statement of the
purpose of Government known to me : —

" THE END OF GOVERNMENT is THE GOOD OF

MANKIND."1

But the good of mankind is not a something which is
absolute and fixed for all men, whatever their capacities

1 " Of Civil Government," § 229.

21 CRITIQUES AND ADDRESSES. [i.

or state of civilization. Doubtless it is possible to
imagine a true "Civitas Dei," in which every man's
moral faculty shall be such as leads him to control all
those desires which run counter to the good of mankind,
and to cherish only those which conduce to the welfare
of society ; and in which every man's native intellect
shall be sufficiently strong, and his culture sufficiently
extensive, to enable him to know what he ought to
do and to seek after. And, in that blessed State, police
will be as much a superfluity as every other kind of
government.

But the eye of man has not beheld that State, and is
not likely to behold it for some time to come. What we
do see, in fact, is that States are made up of a consider
able number of the ignorant and foolish, a small pro
portion of genuine knaves, and a sprinkling of capable
and honest men, by whose efforts the former are kept in
a reasonable state of guidance, and the latter of repres
sion. And, such being the case, I do not see how any
limit whatever can be laid down as to the extent to
Avhich, under some circumstances, the action of Govern
ment may be rightfully carried.

Was our own Government wrong in suppressing
Thuggee in India ? If not, would it be wrong in put
ting down any enthusiast who attempted to set up the
worship of Astarte in the Haymarket ? Has the State
no right to put a stop to gross and open violations of
common decency ? And if the State has, as I believe it
has, a perfect right to do all these things, arc we not
bound to admit, with Locke, that it may have a right to
interfere with " Popery" and " Atheism," if it be really
true that the practical consequences of such beliefs can
be proved to be injurious to civil society ? The question
where to draw the line between those things with which
the State ought, and those with which it ought not, to

i.] ADMINISTRATIVE NIin^^_\ 25

interfere, then, is one which must be left to be decided
separately for each individual case. The difficulty which,
meets the statesman is the same as that which meets us
nil in individual life, in which our abstract rights arc
generally clear enough, though it is frequently extremely
hard to say at what point it is wise to cease our attempts
to enforce them.

The notion that the social body should be organized in
such a manner as to advance the welfare of its members,
is as old as political thought ; and the schemes of Plato,
More, Eobert Owen, St. Simon, Comte, and the modern
socialists, bear witness that, in every age, men whose
capacity is of no mean order, and whose desire to benefit
their fellows has rarely been excelled, have been strongly,
nay, enthusiastically, convinced that Government may
attain its end — the good of the people — by some more
effectual process than the very simple and easy one
of putting its hands in its pockets, and letting them
alone.

It may be, that all the schemes of social organization
which have hitherto been propounded are impracticable
follies. But if this be so, the fact proves, not that the
idea which underlies them is worthless, but only that the
science of politics is in a very rudimentary and imperfect
state. Politics, as a science, is not older than astronomy ;
but though the subject-matter of the latter is vastly less
complex than that of the former, the theory of the moon's
motions is not quite settled yet.

Perhaps it may help us a little way towards getting
clearer notions of what the State may and what it may
not do, if, assuming the truth of Locke's maxim that
" the end of Government is the good of mankind," we
consider a little what the good of mankind is.

I take it that the good of mankind means the attain
ment, by every man, of all the happiness which he can

26 CRITIQUES AND ADDRESSES. [i.

enjoy without diminishing the happiness of his fellow-

men.1

If we inquire what kinds of happiness come under
this definition, we find those derived from the sense of
security or peace ; from wealth, or commodity, obtained
by commerce ; from Art — whether it be architecture,
sculpture, painting, music, or literature ; from knowledge,
or science ; and, finally, from sympathy or friendship.
No man is injured, but the contrary, by peace. No man
is any the worse off because another acquires wealth by
trade, or by the exercise of a profession ; on the con
trary, he cannot have acquired his wealth, except by
benefiting others to the full extent of what they con
sidered to be its value ; and his wealth is no more than
fairy gold if he does not go on benefiting others in the
same way. A thousand men may enjoy the pleasure
derived from a picture, a symphony, or a poem, without
lessening the happiness of the most devoted connoisseur.
The investigation of nature is an infinite pasture-ground,
where all may graze, and where the more bite, the longer
the grass grows, the sweeter is its flavour, and the more
it nourishes. If I love a friend, it is no damage to me,
but rather a pleasure, if all the world also love him and
think of him as highly as I do.

It appears to be universally agreed, for the reasons
already mentioned, that it is unnecessary and undesirable
for the State to attempt to promote the acquisition of
wealth by any direct interference with commerce. But
there is no such agreement as to the further question

1 " Hie est itaque finis ad quern tendo, talem scilicet Naturam acquirere, et
ut multi mecum cam acquirant, conari hoc est de mea felicitate etiam opcrafri
dare, ut alii multi idem atque ego intelligant, ut eorum intellectus et cupiditas
prorsus cum meo intellectu et cupiditate conveniant : atque hoc fiat, uecesse
est tantum de Natura intelligere, quantum, sufficit ad talem naturam acquiren-
dam ; deinde formare talem societatem qualis est desideranda, ut quara plurimi
quam iacillime et secure co perveniaut." — B. SPINOZA, De InleUcdils JEmen-
datione Tractates.

i.] ADMINISTRATIVE NIHILISM. 27

whether the State may not promote the acquisition of
wealth by indirect means. For example, may the State
make a road, or build a harbour, when it is quite clear
that by so doing it will open up a productive district,
and thereby add enormously to the total wealth of the
community ? And if so, may the State, acting for the
general good, take charge of the means of communica
tion between its members, or of the postal and telegraph
services ? I have not yet' met with any valid argument
against the propriety of the State doing what our
Government does in this matter ; except the assumption,
which remains to be proved, that Government will
manage these things worse than private enterprise would
do. Nor is there any agreement upon the still more
important question whether the State ought, or ought
not, to regulate the distribution of wealth. If it ought
not, then all legislation which regulates inheritance — the
statute of Mortmain, and the like — is wrong in principle ;
and, when a rich man dies, we ought to return to the
state of nature, and have a scramble for his property.
If, on the other hand, the authority of the State is legiti
mately employed in regulating these matters, then it is
an open question, to be decided entirely by evidence as
to what tends to the highest good of the people, whether
we keep our present laws, or whether we modify them.
At present the State protects men in the possession and
enjoyment of their property, and defines what that pro
perty is. The justification for its so doing is that its
action promotes the good of the people. If it can be
clearly proved that the abolition of property would tend
still, more to promote the good of the people, the State
will have the same justification for abolishing property
that it now has for maintaining it.

Again, I suppose it is universally agreed that it would
be useless and absurd for the State to attempt to pro-

28 CRITIQUES AND ADDRESSES. [t.

mote friendship and sympathy between man and man
directly. But I see no reason why, if it be otherwise expe
dient, the State may not do something towards that end
indirectly. For example, I can conceive the existence
of an Established Church which should be a blessing to
the community. A Church in which, week by week,
services should be devoted, not to the iteration of abstract
propositions in theology, but to the setting before men's
minds of an ideal of true, just, and pure living ; a place
in which those who are weary of the burden of daily
cares, should find a moment's rest in the contemplation
of the higher life which is possible for all, though attained
by so few ; a place in which the man of strife and of busi
ness should have time to think how small, after all, are
the rewards he covets compared with peace and charity.
Depend upon it, if such a Church existed, no one would
seek to disestablish it.

Whatever the State may not do, however, it is uni
versally agreed that it may take charge of the main
tenance of internal and external peace. Even the
strongest advocate of administrative nihilism admits
that Government may prevent aggression of one man
on another. But this implies the maintenance of an
army and navy, as much as of a body of police ; it
implies a diplomatic as well as a detective force ; and
it implies, further, that the State, as a corporate whole,
shall have distinct and definite views as to its wants,
powers, and obligations.

For independent States stand in the same relation to
one another as men in a state of nature, or unlimited
freedom. Each endeavours to get all it can, until the
inconvenience of the state of war suggests either the
formation of those express contracts we call treaties, or
mutual consent to those implied contracts which are
expressed by international law. The moral rights of a

i.] ADMINISTRATIVE NIHILISM. 29

State rest upon the same basis as those of an individual.
If any number of States agree to observe a common set
of international laws, they have, in fact, set up a sove
reign authority or supra-national government, the end
of which, like that of all governments, is the good of
mankind ; and the possession of as much freedom by
each State, as is consistent with the attainment of that
end. But there is this difference : that the government
thus set up over nations is ideal, and has no concrete
representative of the sovereign power ; whence the only
way of settling any dispute finally is to fight it out.
Thus the supra-national society is continually in danger
of returning to the state of nature, in which contracts
are void ; and the possibility of this contingency justifies
a government in restricting the liberty of its subjects in
many ways that would otherwise be unjustifiable.

Finally, with respect to the advancement of science
and art. I have never yet had the good fortune to hear
any valid reason alleged why that corporation of indi
viduals we call the State may not do what voluntary
effort fails in doing, either from want of intelligence or
lack of will. And here it cannot be alleged that the
action of the State is always hurtful. On the contrary,
in every country in Europe, universities, public libraries,
picture galleries, museums, and laboratories, have been
established by the State, and have done infinite service
to the intellectual and moral progress and the refine
ment of mankind.

A few days ago I received from one of the most eminent
members of the Institut of France a pamphlet entitled
" Pourquoi la France n'a pas trouve dliommes superieurs
au moment du peril." The writer, M. Pasteur, has no
doubt that the cause of the astounding collapse of his
countrymen is to be sought in the miserable neglect of
the higher branches of culture, which has been one of

30 CRITIQUES AND ADDRESSES. [i.

the many disgraces of the Second Empire, if not of
its predecessors.

"Au point on nous sommes arrives de ce qn'on appelle la civilisation
moderne, la culture des sciences dans leur expression la plus elevee est
peut-utre plus necessaire encore a 1'etat moral d'une nation qu'a sa
prosper! te mate'rielle.

" Les grandes decouvertes, les meditations de la pensee dans les arts,
dans les sciences et dans les lettres, en un mot les travaux desinte-
resses de 1'esprit dans tous les genres, les centres d'enseignement pro-
pres a les faire connaitre, introduisent dans le corps social tout entier
1'esprit philosophique on scientifique, cet esprit de discernement qui
soumet tout a une raison severe, condamne 1'ignorance, dissipe les pre-
jug6s et les erreurs. Us elevent le niveau intellectuel, le sentiment
moral ; par eux, Tidee divine elle-meme se repand et s'exalte. ... Si,
au moment du pe"ril supreme, la France n'a pas trouve des hommes
superieurs pour mettre en ceuvre ses ressources et le courage de ses
enfants, il faut 1'attribuer, j'en ai la conviction, a ce que la France s'cst
clesinteress6e, depuis un demi-sic"cle, des grands travaux de la pensee,
particulicrement dans les sciences exactes."

Individually, I have no love for academies on the
continental model, and still less for the system of
decorating men of distinction in science, letters, or art,
with orders and titles, or enriching them with sinecures.
What men of science want is only a fair day's wages for
more than a fair day's work ; and most of us, I suspect,
would be well content if, for our days and nights of
unremitting toil, we could secure the pay which a first-
class Treasury clerk earns without any obviously trying
strain upon his faculties. The sole order of nobility
which, in my judgment, becomes a philosopher, is that
rank which he holds in the estimation of his fellow-
workers, who are the only competent judges in such
matters. Newton and Cuvier lowered themselves when
the one accepted an idle knighthood, and the other
became a baron of the empire. The great men who went
to their graves as Michael Faraday and George Grote
seem to me to have understood the dignity of know-

i.] ADMINISTRATIVE NIHILISM. 31

ledge better when they declined all such meretricious
trappings.

But it is one thing for the State to appeal to the
vanity and ambition which are to be found in philoso
phical as in other breasts, and another to offer men who
desire to do the hardest of work for the most modest
of tangible rewards, the means of making themselves
useful to their age and generation. And this is just
what the State does when it founds a public library or
museum, or provides the means of scientific research by
such grants of money as that administered by the Koyal
Society.

It is one thing, again, for the State to take all the
higher education of the nation into its own hands ; it
is another to stimulate and to aid, while they are yet
young and weak, local efforts to the same end. The
Midland Institute, Owens College in Manchester, the
newly instituted Science College in Newcastle, are all
noble products of local energy and munificence. But
the good they are doing is not local — the common
wealth, to its uttermost limits, shares in the benefits
they confer; and I am at a loss to understand upon
what principle of equity the State, which admits the
principle of payment on results, refuses to give a fair
equivalent for these benefits ; or on what principle of
justice the State, which admits the obligation of sharing
the duty of primary education with a locality, denies the
existence of that obligation when the higher education
is in question.

To sum up : If the positive advancement of the peace,
wealth, and the intellectual and moral development of
its members, are objects which the Government, as the
representative of the corporate authority of society, may
justly strive after, in fulfilment of its end — the good of
mankind ; then it is clear that the Government may

32 CRITIQUES AND ADDRESSES. i.]

undertake to educate the people. For education promotes
peace by teaching \nen the realities of life and the
obligations which are involved in the very existence of
society ; it promotes intellectual development, not only
by training the individual intellect, but by sifting out
from the masses of ordinary or inferior capacities, those
who are competent to increase the general welfare by
occupying higher positions ; and, lastly, it promotes
morality and refinement, by teaching men to discipline
themselves, and by leading them to see that the highest,
as it is the only permanent, content is to be attained,
not by grovelling in the rank and steaming valleys
of sense, but by continual striving towards those high
peaks, where, resting in eternal calm, reason discerns the
undefined but bright ideal of the highest Good — " a

O O

cloud by day, a pillar of fire by night."

II.

THE SCHOOL BOARDS : WHAT THEY CAN DO,
AND WHAT THEY MAY DO.

AN electioneering manifesto would be out of place in the
pages of this Review ; but any suspicion that may arise
in the mind of the reader that the following pages
partake of that nature, will be dispelled, if he reflect
that they cannot be published l until after the day on
which the ratepayers of the metropolis will have decided
which candidates for seats upon the Metropolitan School
Board they will take, and which they will leave.

As one of those candidates, I may be permitted to
say, that I feel much in the frame of mind of the Irish
bricklayer's labourer, who bet another that he could not
carry him to the top of the ladder in his hod. The
challenged hodman won his wager, but as the stakes
were handed over, the challenger wistfully remarked,
" I'd great hopes of falling at the third round from the
top." And, in view of the work and the worry which
awaits the members of the School Boards, I must confess
to an occasional ungrateful hope that the friends who are

1 Notwithstanding Mr. Huxley's intentions, the Editor took upon himself, in
what seemed to hi in to be the public interest, to send an extract from this
article to the newspapers — before the day of the election of the School Board.
— EDITOR of the Contemporary Review.

34 CRITIQUES AND ADDRESSES. [n-

toiling upwards with me in their hod, may, when they
reach " the third round from the top/' let me fall back
into peace and quietness.

But whether fortune befriend me in this rough
method, or not, I should like to submit to those of whom
I am a potential, but of whom I may not be an actual,
colleague, and to others who may be interested in this
most important problem — how to get the Education Act
to work efficiently — some considerations as to what are
the duties of the members of the School Boards, and
what are the limits of their power.

I suppose no one will be disposed to dispute the
proposition, that the prime duty of every member of
such a Board is to endeavour to administer the Act
honestly ; or in accordance, not only with its letter, but
with its spirit. And if so, it would seem that the first
step towards this very desirable end is, to obtain a clear
notion of what that letter signifies, and what that spirit
implies ; or, in other words, what the clauses of the Act
are intended to enjoin and to forbid. So that it is really
not admissible, except for factious and abusive purposes,
to assume that any one who endeavours to get at this
clear meaning is desirous only of raising quibbles and
making difficulties.

Heading the Act with this desire to understand it, I
find that its provisions may be classified, as might
naturally be expected, under two heads : the one set
relating to the subject-matter of education ; the other to
the establishment, maintenance, and administration of
the schools in which that education is to be conducted.

Now it is a most important circumstance, that all the
sections of the Act, except four, belong to the latter
division ; that is, they refer to mere matters of adminis
tration. The four sections in question are the seventh,
the fourteenth, the sixteenth, and the ninety-seventh.

ii.] THE SCHOOL BOARDS. 35

Of these, the seventh, the fourteenth, and the ninety-
seventh deal with the subject-matter of education, while
the sixteenth defines the nature of the relations which
are to exist between the "Education Department" (an
euphemism for the future Minister of Education) and
the School Boards. It is the sixteenth clause which is
the most important, and, in some respects, the most
remarkable of all. It runs thus : —

" If the School Board do, or permit, any act in contravention of, or
fail to comply with, the regulations, according to which a school pro
vided by them is required by this Act to be conducted, the Education
'Department may declare the School Board to be, and such Board shall
accordingly be deemed to be, a Board in default, and the Education
.Department may proceed accordingly ; and every act, or omission, of
nny member of the School Board, or manager appointed by them, or
any person under the control of the Board, shall be deemed to be per
mitted by the Board, unless the contrary be proved.

" If any dispute arises as to whether the School Board have done, or
permitted, any act in contravention of, or have failed to comply with,
the said regulations, the matter shall be referred to the Education Depart
ment, whose decision thereon shall be final"

It will be observed that this clause gives the Minister
of Education absolute power over the doings of the
School Boards. He is not only the administrator of the
Act, but he is its interpreter. I had imagined that on
the occurrence of a dispute, not as regards a question of
pure administration, but as to the meaning of a clause
of the Act, a case might be taken and referred to a court
of justice. But I am led to believe that the Legislature
has, in the present instance, deliberately taken this
power out of the hands of the judges and lodged it in
those of the Minister of Education, who, in accordance
with our method of making Ministers, will necessarily
be a political partisan, and who may be a strong theo
logical sectary into the bargain. And I am informed by
members of Parliament who watched the progress of the

3

30 CRITIQUES AND ADDRESSES. [n.

Act, that the responsibility for this unusual state of
things rests, not with the Government, but with the
Legislature, which exhibited a singular disposition to
accumulate power in the hands of the future Minister of
Education, and to evade the more troublesome difficulties
of the education question by leaving them to be settled
between that Minister and the School Boards.

I express no opinion whether it is, or is not, desirable
that such powers of controlling all the School Boards in
the country should be possessed by a person who may be,
like Mr. Forster, eminently likely to use these powers
justly and wisely, but who also may be quite the reverse.
I merely wish to draw attention to the fact that such
powers are given to the Minister, whether he be fit or
unfit. The extent of these powers becomes apparent
when the other sections of the Act referred to are con
sidered. The fourth clause of the seventh section
says : — •

" The school shall be conducted in accordance -with the conditions
required to be fulfilled by an elementary school in order to obtain an
annual Parliamentary grant."

What these conditions are appears from the following
clauses of the ninety-seventh section :—

" The conditions required to be fulfilled by an elementary school in
order to obtain an annual Parliamentary grant shall be those con
tained in the minutes of the Education Department in force for the
time being. . . . Provided that no such minute of the Education
Department, not in force at the time of the passing of this Act, shall
be deemed to be in force until it has lain for not less than one month
on the tablo of both Houses of Parliament."

Let us consider how this will work in practice. A
school established by a School Board may receive support
from three sources — from the rates, the school fees, and
the Parliamentary grant. The latter may be as great as
the two former taken together ; and as it may be assumed,

ir.] THE SCHOOL BOARDS. 37

without much risk of error, that a constant pressure will
be exerted by the ratepayers on the members who re
present them, to get as much out of the Government,
and as little out of the rates, as possible, the School
Boards will have a very strong motive for shaping the
education they give, as nearly as may be, on the model
•which the Education Minister offers for their imitation,
and for the copying of which he is prepared to pay.

The Eevised Code did not compel any schoolmaster to
leave off teaching anything ; but, by the very simple pro
cess of refusing to pay for many kinds of teaching, it has
practically put an end to them. Mr. Forster is said to
be engaged in revising the Eevised Code ; a successor of
his may re-revise it — and there will be no sort of check
upon these revisions and counter-revisions, except the
possibility of a Parliamentary debate, when the revised,
or added, minutes are laid upon the table. What chance
is there that any such debate will take place on a matter
of detail relating to elementary education — a subject
with which members of the Legislature, having been, for
the most part, sent to our public schools thirty years
ago, have not the least practical acquaintance, and for
which they care nothing, unless it derives a political
value from its connection with sectarian politics ?

I cannot but think, then, that the School Boards will
have the appearance, but not the reality, of freedom of
action, in regard to the subject-matter of what is com
monly called " secular" education.

As respects what is commonly called " religious "
education, the power of the Minister of Education is
even more despotic. An interest, almost amounting to
pathos, attaches itself, in my mind, to the frantic exer
tions which are at present going on in almost every
school division, to elect certain candidates whose names
have never before been heard of in connection with

38 CRITIQUES AND ADDRESSES. [n.

education, and who are either sectarian partisans, or
nothing. In my own particular division, a body orga
nized ad hoc is moving heaven and earth to get the
seven seats filled by seven gentlemen, four of whom are
good Churchmen, and three no less good Dissenters.
But why should this seven times heated fiery furnace of
theological zeal be so desirous to shed its genial warmth
over the London School Board ? Can it be that these
zealous sectaries mean to evade the solemn pledge given
in the Act ?

" No religious catechism or religious formulary which is distinctive
of any particular denomination shall be taught in the school/'

I confess I should have thought it my duty to reject
any such suggestion, as dishonouring to a number of
worthy persons, if it had not been for a leading article
and some correspondence which appeared in the Guardian
of November 9th, 1870.

The Guardian is, as everybody knows, one of the
best of the " religious " newspapers ; and, personally. I
have every reason to speak highly of the fairness, and
indeed kindness, with which the editor is good enough
to deal wTith a writer who must, in many ways, be so
objectionable to him as myself. I quote the following
passages from a leading article on a letter of mine,
therefore, with all respect, and with a genuine conviction
that the course of conduct advocated by the writer must
appear to him in a very different light from that under
which I see it : —

'•'The first of these points is the interpretation which Professor
Huxley puts on the ' Cowper-Temple clause.' It is, in fact, that which
we foretold some time ago as likely to be forced upon it by those who
think with him. The clause itself was one of those compromises
which it is very difficult to define or to maintain logically. On the
one side was the simple freedom to School Boards to establish what
schools they pleased, which Mr. Forster originally gave, but against

n.] THE SCHOOL

which the Nonconformists lifted up their volteBjSbOBSgs^lhey con
ceived it likely to give too much power to the Church. On the other
jiide there was the proposition to make the schools secular — intelligible
enough, but in the consideration of public opinion simply impossible
— and there was the vague impracticable idea, which Mr. Gladstone
thoroughly tore to pieces, of enacting that the teaching of all school
masters in the new schools should be strictly 'undenominational.'
The Cowper-Temple clause was, we repeat, proposed simply to tide
over the difficulty. It was to satisfy the .Nonconformists and the
' unsectarian,' as distinct from the secular party of the League, by for
bidding all distinctive 'catechisms and formularies,' which might have
the effect of openly assigning the schools to this or that religious body.
It refused, at the same time, to attempt the impossible task of defining
what was undenominational ; and its author even contended, if we
understood him correctly, that it would in no way, even indirectly,
interfere with the substantial teaching of any master in any school.
This assertion we always believed to be untenable ; we could not see
how, in the face of this clause, a distinctly denominational tone could
be honestly given to schools nominally general. But beyond this mere
suggestion of an attempt at a general tone of comprehensiveness in
religious teaching it was not intended to go, and only because such was
its limitation was it accepted by the Government and by the House.

" But now we are told that it is to be construed as doing precisely
that which it refused to do. A * formulary,' it seems, is a collection
of formulas, and formulas are simply propositions of whatever kind
touching religious faith. All such propositions, if they cannot be
accepted by all Christian denominations, are to be proscribed; and it
is added significantly that the Jews also are a denomination, and so
that any teaching distinctively Christian is perhaps to be excluded,
lest it should interfere with their freedom and rights. Are we then to
fall back on the simple reading of the letter of the Bible 1 No ! this,
it is granted, would be an 'unworthy pretence.' The teacher is to
give 'grammatical, geographical, or historical explanations ;' but he is
to keep clear of ' theology proper,' because, as Professor Huxley takes
great pains to prove, there is no theological teaching which is not
opposed by some sect or other, from Roman Catholicism on the one
hand to TJnitarianism on the other. It was not, perhaps, hard to see
that this difficulty would be started ; and to those who, like Professor
Huxley, look at it theoretically, without much practical experience of
schools, it may appear serious or unanswerable. But there is very
little in it practically ; when it is faced determinately and handled
firmly, it will soon shrink into its true dimensions. The class who are
least frightened at it are the school-teachers, simply because they
know most about it. It is quite clear that the school-managers must

10 CRITIQUES AND ADDRESSES. [n.

be cautioned against allowing their schools to be made places of
proselytism : but when this is done, the case is simple enough.
Leave the masters under this general understanding to teach freely ; if
there is ground of complaint, let it be made, but leave the onus pro-
bandi on the objectors. For extreme peculiarities of belief or unbelief
there is the Conscience Clause ; as to the mass of parents, they will be
more anxious to have religion taught than afraid of its assuming this
or that particular shade. They will trust the school-managers and
teachers till they have reason to distrust them, and experience has
shown that they may trust them safely enough. Any attempt to
throw the burden of making the teaching undenominational upon the
managers must be sternly resisted : it is simply evading the intentions
of the Act in an elaborate attempt to carry them out. We thank
Professor Huxley for the warning. To bo forewarned is to be fore
armed."

A good deal of light seems to me to be thrown on the
practical significance of the opinions expressed in the
foregoing extract by the following interesting letter,
which appeared in the same paper : —

" SIR, — I venture to send to you the substance of a correspondence
with the Education Department upon the question of the lawfulness
of religious teaching in rate schools under section 14 (2) of the Act.
I asked whether the words * which is distinctive,' &c., taken gram
matically as limiting the prohibition of any religious formulary, might
be construed as allowing (subject, however, to the other provisions of
the Act) any religious formulary common to any two denominations
anywhere in England to be taught in such schools ; and if practically
the limit could not be so extended, but would have to be fixed accord
ing to the special circumstances of each district, then what degree of
general acceptance in a district would exempt such a formulary from
the prohibition ? The answer to this was as follows : — * It was under
stood, when clause 14 of the Education Act was discussed in the House
of Commons, that, according to a well-known rule of interpreting Acts
of Parliament, " denomination " must be held to include " denomina
tions." When any dispute is referred to the Education Department
under the last paragraph of section 16, it will be dealt with according
to the circumstances of the case.'

" Upon my asking further if I might hence infer that i,he lawfulness
of teaching any religious formulary in a rate school would thus depend
exclusively on local circumstances, and would accordingly be so decided
by the Education Department in case of dispute, I was informed in

ii.] TILE SCHOOL BOAIWS. 41

explanation that ' their lordships' ' letter was intended to convey to
me that no general rule, beyond that stated in the first paragraph of
their letter, conld at present be laid down by them; and that their
Decision in each particular case must depend on the special circum
stances accompanying it.

" 1 think it would appear from this that it may yet be in many
cases both lawful and expedient to teach religious formularies in rate
schools. " H. I.

" STEYNING, November 5, 1870."

Of course I do not mean to surest that the editor of

OO

the Guardian is bound by the opinions of his corre
spondent ; but I cannot help thinking that I do not
misrepresent him, when I say that he also thinks "that
it may yet be, in many cases, both lawful and expedient
to teach religious formularies in rate schools under these
circumstances."

It is not uncharitable, therefore, to assume that, the
express words of the Act of Parliament notwithstand
ing, all the sectaries who are toiling so hard for seats in
the London School Board have the lively hope of the
gentleman from Steyning, that it may be '' both lawful
and expedient to teach religious formularies in rate
schools ; " and that they mean to do their utmost to bring
this happy consummation about.1

Now the pathetic emotion to which I have referred,
as accompanying my contemplations of the violent
struggles of so many excellent persons, is caused by the

1 A passage in an article on the " Working of the Education Act," in the
Saturday Review for Nov. 19, 1870, completely justifies this anticipation of
the line of action which the sectaries mean to take. After commending
the Liverpool compromise, the writer goes on to say : —

" If this plan is fairly adopted in Liverpool, the fourteenth clause of the Act
will in effect be restored to its original form, and the majority of the ratepayers
in each district be permitted to decide to what denomination the school shall
belong."

In a previous paragraph the writer speaks of a possible " mistrust " of one
another by the members of the Board, and seems to anticipate " accusations of
dishonesty." If any of the members of the Board adopt his views, I think it
highly probable that he may turn out to be a true prophet.

42 CRITIQUES AND ADDRESSES. [n.

circumstance that, so far as I can judge, their labour is
in vain.

Supposing that the London School Board contains, as
it probably will do, a majority of sectaries ; and that they
carry over the heads of a minority, a resolution that
certain theological formulas, about which they all happen
to agree, — say, for example, the doctrine of the Trinity,
—shall be taught in the schools. Do they fondly imagine
that the minority will not at once dispute their interpreta
tion of the Act, and appeal to the Education Department
to settle that dispute ? And if so, do they suppose that
any Minister of Education, who wants to keep his place,
will tighten boundaries which the Legislature has left

O O

loose ; and will give a " final decision " which shall be
offensive to every Unitarian and to every Jew in the
House of Commons, besides creating a precedent which
will afterwards be used to the injury of every Noncon
formist ? The editor of the Guardian tells his friends
sternly to resist every attempt to throw the burden of
making the teaching undenominational on the managers,
and thanks me for the warning I have given him. I
return the thanks, with interest, for his warning, as to
the course the party he represents intends to pursue, and
for enabling me thus to draw public attention to a
perfectly constitutional and effectual mode of check
mating them.

And, in truth, it is wonderful to note the surprising
entanglement into which our able editor gets himself in
the struggle between his native honesty and judgment
and the necessities of his party. " We could not sec/'
says he, " in the face of this clause how a distinct de
nominational tone could be honestly given to schools
nominally general/' There speaks the honest and clear
headed man. "Any attempt to throw the burden of
making the teaching undenominational must be sternly

XL] THE SCHOOL BOARDS. 43

resisted." There speaks the advocate holding a brief for
his party. " Verily/' as Trinculo says, " the monster hath
two mouths : " the one, the forward mouth, tells us very
justly that the teaching cannot "honestly "be " distinctly
denominational ; " but the other, the backward mouth,
asserts that it must by no manner of means be " undeno
minational." Putting the two utterances together, I can
only interpret them to mean that the teaching is to
be " indistinctly denominational." If the editor of the
Guardian had not shown signs of anger at my use of the
term "theological fog," I should have been tempted to
suppose it must have been what he had in his mind,
under the name of " indistinct denominational ism."
But this reading being plainly inadmissible, I can only
imagine that he inculcates the teaching of formulas
common to a number of denominations.

But the Education Department has already told the
gentleman from Steyning that any such proceeding will
be illegal. "According to a well-known rule of inter
preting Acts of Parliament, 'denomination' would be
held to include ' denominations/ ;; In other words, we
must read the Act thus : —

"No religious catechism or religious formulary which
is distinctive of any particular denominations shall be
taught,"

Thus we are really very much indebted to the editor
of the Guardian and his correspondent. The one has
shown us that the sectaries mean to try to get as much
denominational teaching as they can agree upon, among
themselves, forced into the elementary schools ; while
the other has obtained a formal declaration from the
Education Department that any such attempt will
contravene the Act of Parliament, and that, therefore,
the unsectarian, law-abiding members of the School
Boards may safely reckon upon bringing down upon

44 CRITIQUES AND ADDRESSES. [11.

their opponents the heavy hand of the Minister of
Education.1

So much for the powers of the School Boards. Limited
as they seem to be, it by no means follows that such
Boards, if they are composed of intelligent and practical
men, really more in earnest about education than about
sectarian squabbles, may not exert a very great amount of
influence. And, from many circumstances, this is espe
cially likely to be the case with the London School Board,
which, if it conducts itself wisely, may become a true
educational parliament, as subordinate in authority to the
Minister of Education, theoretically, as the Legislature is
to the Crown, and yet, like the Legislature, possessed
of great practical authority. And I suppose that no
Minister of Education would be other than glad to have
the aid of the deliberations of such a body, or fail to pay
careful attention to its recommendations.

What, then, ought to be the nature and scope of the
education which a School Board should endeavour to give

o

to every child under its influence, and for which it should
try to obtain the aid of the Parliamentary grants ? In
my judgment it should include at least the following
kinds of instruction and of discipline : —

1. Physical training and drill, as part of the regular
business of the school.

It is impossible to insist too much on the importance
of this part of education for the children of the poor of
great towns. All the conditions of their lives are un
favourable to their physical well-being. They are badly

1 Since this paragraph was written, Mr. Forster, in speaking at the Birkbeck
Institution, has removed all doubt as to what his " final decision " will be in the
case of such disputes being referred to him : — " I have the fullest confidence
that in the reading and explaining of the Bible, what the children will be
taught will be the great truths of Christian life and conduct, which all of us
desire they should know, and that no effort will be made to cram into their poor
little minds, theological dogmas which their tender age prevents them .from
understanding."

IL] THE SCHOOL BOARDS. 45

lodged, badly housed, badly fed, and live from one year's
end to another in bad air, without chance of a change.
They have no play-grounds ; they amuse themselves
with marbles and chuck-farthing, instead of cricket or
harc-and-hounds ; and if it were not for the wonderful
instinct which leads all poor children of tender years
to run under the feet of cab-horses whenever they can,
I know not how they would learn to use their limbs
with agility.

Now there is no real difficulty about teaching drill
and the simpler kinds of gymnastics.- It is done ad
mirably well, for example, in the North Surrey Union
schools ; and a year or two ago, when I had an oppor
tunity of inspecting these schools, I was greatly struck
with the effect of such training upon the poor little
waifs and strays of humanity, mostly picked out of the
gutter, who are being made into cleanly, healthy, and
useful members of society in that excellent institution.

"Whatever doubts people may entertain about the
efficacy of natural selection, there can be none about
artificial selection ; and the breeder who should attempt
to make, or keep up, a fine stock of pigs, or sheep, under
the conditions to which the children of the poor are
exposed, would be the laughing-stock even of the bucolic
mind. Parliament has already done something in this
direction, by declining to be an accomplice in the as
phyxiation of school children. It refuses to make any
grant to a school in which the cubical contents of the
school-room are inadequate to allow of proper respiration.
I should like to see it make another step in the same
direction, and either refuse to give a grant to a school
in which physical training is not a part of the pro
gramme, or, at any rate, offer to pay upon such training.
If something of the kind is not done, the English
physique, which has been, and is still, on the whole, a

46 CRITIQUES AND ADDRESSES. [n.

grand one, will become as extinct as the dodo, in the
great towns.

And then the moral and intellectual effect of drill, as
an introduction to, and aid of, all other sorts of training,
must not be overlooked. If you want to break in a colt,
surely the first thing to do is to catch him and get him
quietly to face his trainer ; to know his voice and bear
his hand ; to learn that colts have something else to do
with their heels than to kick them up whenever they
feel so inclined ; and to discover that the dreadful human
figure has no desire to devour, or even to beat him, but^
that, in case of attention and obedience, he may hopef
for patting and even a sieve of oats.

But, your "street Arabs," and other neglected poor
children, are rather worse and wilder than colts ; for the
reason that the horse-colt has only his animal instincts
in him, and his mother, the mare, has been always tender
over him, and never came home drunk and kicked him
in her life ; while the man-colt is inspired by that very
real devil, perverted manhood, and his mother may have
done all that and more. So, on the whole, it may pro
bably be even more expedient to begin your attempt to
get at the higher nature of the child, than at that of the
colt, from the physical side.

2. Next in order to physical training I put the instruc
tion of children, and especially of girls, in the elements
of household work and of domestic economy ; in the first
place for their own sakes, and in the second for that of
their future employers.

Everyone who knows anything of the life of the
English poor is aware of the misery and waste caused
by their want of knowledge of domestic economy, and
by their lack of habits of frugality and method. I
suppose it is no exaggeration to say that a poor French
woman would make the money which the wife of a poor

r.] THE SCHOOL BOARDS. 47

Englishman spends in food go twice as far, and at the
same time turn out twice as palatable a dinner. Why
Englishmen, who are so notoriously fond of good living,
should be so helplessly incompetent in the art of cookery,
is one of the great mysteries of nature ; but from the
varied abominations of the railway refreshment-rooms to
the monotonous dinners of the poor, English feeding is
either wasteful or nasty, or both.

And as to domestic service, the groans of the house
wives of England ascend to heaven ! In five cases out
of six, the girl who takes a "place" has to be trained
ly her mistress in the first rudiments of decency and
crder; and it is a mercy if she does not turn up her
nose at anything like the mention of an honest and
proper economy. Thousands of young girls are said
to starve, or worse, yearly in London ; and at the same
time thousands of mistresses of households are ready
to pay high wages for a decent housemaid, or cook,
or a fair workwoman ; and can by no means get what
they want.

Surely, if the elementary schools are worth anything,
they may put an end to a state of things which is de
moralizing the poor, while it is wasting the lives of those
better off in small worries and annoyances.

3. But the boys and girls for whose education the
School Boards have to provide, have not merely to dis
charge domestic duties, but each of them is a member
of a social and political organization of great complexity,
and has, in future life, to fit himself into that organi
zation, or be crushed by it. To this end it is surely
needful, not only that they should be made acquainted
with the elementary laws of conduct, but that their
affections should be trained, so as to love with all their
hearts that conduct which tends to the attainment of
the highest good for themselves and their fellow-men,

48 CRITIQUES AND ADDRESSES. [n.

and to hate with all their hearts that opposite course of
action which is fraught with evil.

So far as the laws of conduct arc determined by the
intellect, I apprehend that they belong to science, and to
that part of science which is called morality. But the
engagement of the affections in favour of that particular
kind of conduct which we call good, seems to me to be
something quite beyond mere science. And I cannot
but think that it, together with the awe and reverence,
which have no kinship with base fear, but arise whenever
one tries to pierce below the surface of things, whether
they be material or spiritual, constitutes all that has any
unchangeable reality in religion.

And just as I think it would be a mistake to confound
the science, morality, with the affection, religion ; so do
I conceive it to be a most lamentable and mischievous
error, that the science, theology, is so confounded in the
minds of many — indeed, I might say, of the majority
of men.

I do not express any opinion as to whether theology
is a true science, or whether it does not come under the
apostolic definition of " science falsely so called ; " though
I may be permitted to express the belief that if the
Apostle to whom that much misapplied phrase is due
could make the acquaintance of much of modern theo
logy, he would not hesitate a moment in declaring that
it is exactly what he meant the words to denote.

But it is afc any rate conceivable, that the nature of
the Deity, and His relations to the universe, and more
especially to mankind, are capable of being ascertained,
either inductively or deductively, or by both processes.
And, if they have been ascertained, then a body of science
has been formed which is very properly called theology.

Further, there can be no doubt that affection for the
Being thus defined and described by theologic science

IT.] THE SCHOOL BOARDS. 40

would be properly termed religion ; but it would not
be the whole of religion. The affection for the ethical
ideal defined by moral science would claim equal if not
superior rights. For suppose theology established the
existence of an evil deity — and some theologies, even
Christian ones, have come very near this, — is the religious
affection to be transferred from the ethical ideal to
any such omnipotent demon ? I trow not. Better a
thousand times that the human race should perish under
his thunderbolts than it should say, " Evil, be thou
my good."

There is nothing new, that I know of, in this state
ment of the relations of religion with the science of
morality on the one hand and that of theology on the
other. But I believe it to be altogether true, and very
needful, at this time, to be clearly and emphatically
recognized as such, by those who have to deal with the
education question.

We are divided into two parties — the advocates of
so-called " religious " teaching on the one hand, and
those of so-called " secular ;; teaching on the other. And
both parties seem to me to be not only hopelessly wrong,
but in such a position that if either succeeded completely,
it would discover, before many years were over, that it
had made a great mistake and done serious evil to the
cause of education.

For, leaving aside the more far-seeing minority on
each side, what the " religious" party is crying for is
mere theology, under the name of religion ; while the
" secularists " have unwisely and wrongfully admitted
the assumption of their opponents, and demand the
abolition of all "religious" teaching, when they only
want to be free of theology — Burning your ship to get
rid of the cockroaches !

But my belief is, that no human being, and no society

50 CRITIQUES AND ADDRESSES. [n.

composed of human beings, ever did, or ever will, come
to much, unless their conduct was governed and guided
by the love of some ethical ideal. Undoubtedly, you,
gutter child may be converted by mere intellectual dr1'1
into " the subtlest of all the beasts of the field ; " but \
know what has become of the original of that descrip
tion, and there is no need to increase the number of
those who imitate him successfully without being aided
by the rates. And if I were compelled to choose for one
of my own children, between a school in which real
religious instruction is given, and one without it, I should
prefer the former, even though the child might have to
take a good deal of theology with it. Nine-tenths of a
dose of bark is mere half-rotten wood ; but one swallows
it for the sake of the particles of quinine, the beneficial
effect of which may be weakened, but is not destroyed,
by the wooden dilution, unless in a few eases of excep
tionally tender stomachs.

Hence, when the great mass of the English people
declare that they want to have the children in the
elementary schools taught the Bible, and when it is plain
from the terms of the Act, the debates in and out of
Parliament, and especially the emphatic declarations of
the Vice-President of the Council, that it was intended
that such Bible-reading should be permitted, unless good
cause for prohibiting it could be shown, I do not see
what reason there is for opposing that wish. Certainly,
I, individually, could with no shadow of consistency
oppose the teaching of the children of other people to
do that which my own children are taught to do. And,
even if the reading the Bible were not, as I think it is,
consonant with political reason and justice, and with a
desire to act in the spirit of the education measure, I
am disposed to think it might still be well to read that
book in the elementary schools.

ir.] THE SCHOOL BOARDS. 51

I have always been strongly in favour of secular
education, in the sense of education without theology ;
•ybut I must confess I have been no less seriously per-
p^lexed to know by what practical measures the religious
Deling, which is the essential basis of conduct, was to
oe kept up, in the present utterly chaotic state of opinion
on these matters, without the use of the Bible. The
Pagan moralists lack life and colour, and even the noble
Stoic, Marcus Antoninus, is too high and refined for an
ordinary child. Take the Bible as a whole ; make the
severest deductions which, fair criticism can dictate for
shortcomings and positive errors ; eliminate, as a sensible
lay-teacher would do, if left to himself, all that it is not
desirable for children to occupy themselves with ; and
there still remains in this old literature a vast residuum
of moral beauty and grandeur. And then consider the
great historical fact that, for three centuries, this book
has been woven into the life of all that is best and
noblest in English history ; that it has become the
national epic of Britain, and is as familiar to noble and
simple, from John-o'- Groat's House to Land's End, as
Dante and Tasso once were to the Italians; that it is
written in the noblest and purest English, and abounds
in exquisite beauties of mere literary form ; and, finally,
that it forbids the veriest hind who never left his village
to be ignorant of the existence of other countries and
other civilizations, and of a great past, stretching back
to the furthest limits of the oldest nations in the world.
By the study of what other book could children be so
much humanized and made to feel that each figure in
that vast historical procession fills, like themselves, but
a momentary space in the interval between two eterni
ties ; and earns the blessings or the curses of all time,
according to its effort to do good and hate evil, even as
they also are earning their payment for their work ?

52 CRITIQUES AND ADDRESSES. [a.

On the whole, then, I am in favour of reading the
Bible, with such grammatical, geographical, and historical
explanations by a lay-teacher as may be needful, with
rigid exclusion of any further theological teaching than
that contained in the Bible itself. And in stating what
this is, the teacher would do well not to go beyond the
precise words of the Bible ; for if he does, he will, in
the first place, undertake a task beyond his strength,
seeing that all the Jewish and Christian sects have been
at work upon that subject for more than two thousand
years, and have not yet arrived, and are not in the least
likely to arrive, at an agreement ; and, in the second
place, he will certainly begin to teach something dis
tinctively denominational, and thereby come into violent
collision with the Act of Parliament.

4. The intellectual training to be given in the elemen
tary schools must of course, in the first place, consist in
learning to use the means of acquiring knowledge, or
reading, writing, and arithmetic ; and it will be a great
matter to teach reading so completely that the act shall
have become easy and pleasant. If reading remains
"hard/7 that accomplishment will not be much resorted
to for instruction, and still less for amusement — which
last is one of its most valuable uses to hard-worked
people.

But along with a due proficiency in the use of the
means of learning, a certain amount of knowledge, of
intellectual discipline, and of artistic training should be
conveyed in the elementary schools ; and in this direc
tion — for reasons which I am afraid to repeat, having
urged them so often — I can conceive no subject-matter
of education so appropriate and so important as the
rudiments of physical science, with drawing, modelling,
and singing. Not only would such teaching afford the
best possible preparation for the technical schools about

jr.] THE SCHOOL BOARDS. 53

which so much is now said, but the organization for
carrying it into effect already exists. The Science and
Art Department, the operations of which have already
attained considerable magnitude, not only offers to
examine and pay the results of such examination in
elementary science and art, but it provides what is still
more important, viz. a means of giving children of high
natural ability, who are ju-st as abundant among the
poor as among the rich, a helping hand. A good old
proverb tells us that " One should not take a razor to
cut a block : " the razor is soon spoiled, and the block is
not so well cut as it would be with a hatchet. But it is
worse economy to prevent a possible Watt from being
anything but a stoker, or to give a possible Faraday no
chance of doing anything but to bind books. Indeed,
the loss in such cases of mistaken vocation has no
measure ; it is absolutely infinite and irreparable. And
among the arguments in favour of the interference of
the State in education, none seems to be stronger than
this — that it is the interest of every one that ability
should be neither wasted, nor misapplied, by any one ;
and, therefore, that every one's representative, the State,
is necessarily fulfilling the wishes of its constituents
when it is helping the capacities to reach their proper
places.

It may be said that the scheme of education here
sketched is too large to be effected in the time during
which the children will remain at school ; and, secondly,
that even if this objection did not exist, it would cost
too much.

I attach no importance whatever to the first objection
until the experiment has been fairly tried. Considering
how much catechism, lists of the kings of Israel,
geography of Palestine, and the like, children are made
to swallow now, I cannot believe there will be any

54 CRITIQUES AND ADDRESSES. [n.

difficulty in inducing them to go through the physical
training, which is more than half play ; or the instruc
tion in household work, or in those duties to one another
and to themselves, which have a daily and hourly
practical interest. That children take kindly to elemen
tary science and art no one can doubt who has tried
the experiment properly. And if Bible-reading is not
accompanied by constraint and solemnity, as if it were
a sacramental operation, I do not believe there is any
thing in which children take more pleasure. At least
I know that some of the pleasantest recollections of my
childhood are connected with the voluntary study of an
ancient Bible which belonged to my grandmother. There
were splendid pictures in it, to be sure ; but I recollect
little or nothing about them save a portrait of the high
priest in his vestments. What come vividly back on
my mind are remembrances of my delight in the
histories of Joseph and of David ; and of my keen
appreciation of the chivalrous kindness of Abraham
in his dealings with Lot. Like a sudden flash there
returns back upon me, my utter scorn of the pettifogging
meanness of Jacob, and my sympathetic grief over the
heartbreaking lamentation of the cheated Esau, " Hast
thou not a blessing for me also, 0 my father ? " And I
see, as in a cloud, pictures of the grand phantasmagoria
of the Book of Eevelation.

I enumerate, as they issue, the childish impressions
which come crowding out of the pigeon-holes in my
brain, in which they have lain almost undisturbed for
forty years. I prize them as an evidence that a child
of five or six years old, left to his own devices, may be
deeply interested in the Bible, and draw sound moral
sustenance from it. And I rejoice that I was left to deal
with the Bible alone; for if I had had some thcologica.
" explainer " at my side, he might have tried, as such

TI.] THE SCHOOL BOARDS. 55

do, to lessen my indignation against Jacob, and thereby
have warped my moral sense for ever ; while the great
apocalyptic spectacle of the ultimate triumph of right
and justice might have been turned to the base purposes
of a pious lampooner of the Papacy.

And as to the second objection — costliness — the reply
is, first, that the rate and the Parliamentary grant together
ought to be enough, considering that science and art
teaching is already provided for ; and, secondly, that if
they are not, it may be well for the educational parlia
ment to consider what has become of those endowments
which were originally intended to be devoted, more or
less largely, to the education of the poor.

When the monasteries were spoiled, some of their
endowments were applied to the foundation of cathedrals ;
and in all such cases it was ordered that a certain portion
of the endowment should be applied to the purposes of
education. How much is so applied ? Is that which may
be so applied given to help the poor, who cannot pay for
education, or does it virtually subsidize the comparatively
rich, who can ? How are Christ's Hospital and Alleyn's
foundation securing their right purposes, or how far are
they perverted into contrivances for affording relief to
the classes who can afford to pay for education ? How
- But this paper is already too long, and, if I
begin, I may find it hard to stop asking questions of
this kind, which after all are worthy only of the lowest
of Eadicals.

III.

ON MEDICAL EDUCATION.

(AN ADDRESS TO THE STUDENTS OF THE FACULTY OF MEDICINE
IN UNIVERSITY COLLEGE, LONDON, MAY 18, 1870, ON THE
OCCASION OF THE DISTRIBUTION OF PRIZES FOR THE SESSION.)

IT lias given me sincere pleasure to be here to-day, at
the desire of your highly respected President and the
Council of the College. In looking back upon my own
past, I am sorry to say that I have found that it is a
quarter of a century since I took part in those hopes and
in those fears by which you have all recently been
agitated, and which now are at an end. But, although
so long a time has elapsed since I was moved by the
same feelings, I beg leave to assure you that my
sympathy with both victors and vanquished remains
fresh — so fresh, indeed, that I could almost try to per
suade myself that, after all, it cannot be so very long
ago. My business during the last hour, however, has
been to show that sympathy with one side only, and I
assure you I have done my best to play my part heartily,
and to rejoice in the success of those who have suc
ceeded. Still, I should like to remind you at the end of
it all, that success on an occasion of this kind, valuable
and important as it is, is in reality only putting the foot

in.] O^V MEDICAL EDUCATION. 57

upon one rung of the ladder which leads upwards ; and
that the rung of a ladder was never meant to rest upon,
but only to hold a man's foot long enough to enable him
to put the other somewhat higher. I trust that you will
all regard these successes as simply reminders that your
next business is, having enjoyed the success of the day,
no longer to look at that success, but to look forward to
the next difficulty that is to be conquered. And now,
having had so much to say to the successful candidates,
you must forgive me if I add that a sort of under
current of sympathy has been going on in my mind all
the time for those who have not been successful, for
those valiant knights who have been overthrown in your
tourney, and have not made their appearance in public. I
trust that, in accordance with old custom, they, wounded
and bleeding, have been carried off to their tents, to
be carefully tended by the fairest of maidens ; and in
these days, when the chances are that every one of such
maidens will be a qualified practitioner, I have no doubt
that all the splinters will have been carefully extracted,
and that they are now physically healed. But there
may remain some little fragment of moral or intellectual
discouragement, and therefore I will take the liberty to
remark that your chairman to-day, if he occupied his
proper place, would be among them. Your chairman,
in virtue of his position, and for the brief hour that he
occupies that position, is a person of importance ; and it
may be some consolation to those who have failed if I
say, that the quarter of a century which I have been
speaking of, takes me back to the time when I was up
at the University of London, a candidate for honours
in anatomy and physiology, and when I was exceed
ingly well beaten by my excellent friend Dr. Eansom,
of Nottingham. There is a person here who recollects
that circumstance very well. I refer to your venerated

58 CRITIQUES AND ADDRESSES. [in.

teacher and mine, Dr. Sharpey. He was at that time
one of the examiners in anatomy and physiology, and
you may be quite sure that, as he was one of the
examiners, there remained not the smallest doubt in my
mind of the propriety of his judgment, and I accepted
my defeat with the most comfortabla assurance that I
had thoroughly well earned it. But, gentlemen, the
competitor having been a worthy one, and the examina
tion a fair one, I cannot say that I found in that cir
cumstance anything very discouraging. I said to myself,
"Never mind; what's the next thing to be done?"
And I found that policy of " never minding " and going
on to the next thing to be done, to be the most important
of all policies in the conduct of practical life. It does
not matter how many tumbles you have in this life, so
long as you do not get dirty when you tumble ; it is
only the people who have to stop to be washed and made
clean, who must necessarily lose the race. And I can
assure you that there is the greatest practical benefit in
making a few failures early in life. You learn that
which is of inestimable importance — that there are a
great many people in the world who are just as clever as
you are. You learn to put your trust, by and by, in an
economy and frugality of the exercise of your powers,
both moral and intellectual ; and you very soon find out,
if you have not found it out before, that patience and
tenacity of purpose are worth more than twice their
weight of cleverness. In fact, if I were to go on dis
coursing on this subject, I should become almost eloquent
in praise of non-success ; but, lest so doing should seem,
in any way, to wither well-earned laurels, I will turn
from that topic, and ask you to accompany me in some
considerations touching another subject which has a very
profound interest for me, and which I think ought to
have an equally profound interest for you.

in.] ON MEDICAL EDUCATION. 59

I presume that the great majority of those whom I
address propose to devote themselves to the profession
of medicine ; and I do not doubt, from the evidences of
ability which have been given to-day, that I have before
me a number of men who will rise to eminence in that
profession, and who will exert a great and deserved
influence upon its future. That in which I am interested,
and about which I wish to speak, is the subject of
medical education, and I venture to speak about it for
the purpose, if I can, of influencing you, who may have
the power of influencing the medical education of the
future. You may ask, by what authority do I venture,
being a person not concerned in the practice of medicine,
to meddle with that subject? I can only tell you it is a
fact, of which a number of you I dare say are aware by
experience (and I trust the experience has no painful
associations), that I have been for a considerable number
of years (twelve or thirteen years to the best of my
recollection) one of the examiners in the University of
London. You are further aware that the men who come
up to the University of London are the picked men of
the medical schools of London, and therefore such obser
vations as I may have to make upon the state of know
ledge of these gentlemen, if they be justified, in regard
to any faults I may have to find, cannot be held to indi
cate defects in the capacity, or in the power of applica
tion of those gentlemen, but must be laid, more or less,
to the account of the prevalent system of medical edu
cation. I will tell you what has struck me — but in
speaking in this frank way, as one always does about the
defects of one's friends, I must beg you to disabuse your
minds of the notion that I am alluding to any particular
school, or to any particular college, or to any particular
person ; and to believe that if I am silent when I should
be glad to speak with high praise, it is because that

60 CRITIQUES AND ADDRESSES. [in.

praise would come too close to this locality. What has
struck me, then, in this long experience of the men best
instructed in physiology from the medical schools of
London, is (with the many and brilliant exceptions to
which I have referred), taking it as a whole, and broadly,
the singular unreality of their knowledge of physiology.
Now, I use that word " unreality " advisedly : I do not
say " scanty ; " on the contrary, there is plenty of it — a
great deal too much of it — but it is the quality, the

v nature of the knowledge, which I quarrel with. I know
I used to have — I don't know whether I have now, but
I had once upon a time — a bad reputation among
students for setting up a very high standard of acquire
ment, and I dare say you may think that the standard
of this old examiner, who happily is now very nearly an
extinct examiner, has been pitched too high. Nothing
of the kind, I assure you. The defects I have noticed,
and the faults I have to find, arise entirely from the
circumstance that my standard is pitched too low. This
is no paradox, gentlemen, but quite simply the fact.
The knowledge I have looked for was a real, precise,
thorough, and practical knowledge of fundamentals ;
whereas that which the best of the candidates, in a large
proportion of cases, have had to give me was a large,

/extensive, and inaccurate knowledge of superstructure ;
and that is what I mean by saying that my demands
went too low, and not too high. What I have had to
complain of is, that a large proportion of the gentlemen
who come up for physiology to the University of London
do not know it as they know their anatomy, and have
not been taught it as they have been taught their
anatomy. Now, I should not wonder at all if I heard
a great many " No, noes " here ; but I am not talking
about University College ; as I have told you before, 1
am talking about the average education of medical

in.] ON MEDICAL JgJPp-C^Sq^gUf Ufeg^ 61

schools. What I have found, and found so much reason
to lament, is, that while anatomy has been taught as a
science ought to be taught, as a matter of autopsy, and
observation, and strict discipline ; in a very large number
of cases, physiology has been taught as if it were a meres
matter of books and of hearsay. I declare to you,
gentlemen, that I have often expected to be told, when
I have been asked a question about the circulation of
the blood, that Professor Brcitkopf is of opinion that it
circulates, but that the whole thing is an open ques
tion. I assure you that I am hardly exaggerating the
state of mind on matters of fundamental importance
which I have found over and over again to obtain among
gentlemen coming up to that picked examination of the
University of London. Now, I do not think that is a
desirable state of things. I cannot understand why
physiology should not be taught — in fact, you have here
abundant evidence that it can be taught — with the same
defmiteness and the same precision as anatomy is taught.
And you may depend upon this, that the only physiology
which is to be of any good whatever in medical practice,
or in its application to the study of medicine, is that
physiology which a man knows of his own knowledge ;
just as the only anatomy which would be of any good to
the surgeon is the anatomy which he knows of his own
knowledge. Another peculiarity I have found in the
physiology which has been current, arid that is, that in
the minds of a great many gentlemen it has been sup
planted by histology. They have learnt a great deal of
histology, and they have fancied that histology and phy
siology are the same things. I have asked for some
knowledge of the physics and the mechanics and the
chemistry of the human body, and I have been met by
talk about cells. I declare to you I believe it will take
me two years, at least, of absolute rest from the business

62 CRITIQUES AND ADDRESSES. [in.

of an examiner to hear the word "cell," "germinal
matter," or "carmine," without a sort of inward
shudder.

Well, now, gentlemen, I am sure my colleagues in this
examination will bear me out in saying that I have not
been exaggerating the evils and defects which are current
— have been current — in a large quantity of the phy
siological teaching, the results of which come before
examiners. And it becomes a very interesting question
to know how all this comes about, and in what way it
can be remedied. How it comes about will be perfectly
obvious to any one who has considered the growth of
medicine. I suppose that medicine and surgery first
began by some savage, more intelligent than the rest,
discovering that a certain herb was good for a certain
pain, and that a certain pull, somehow or other, set a
dislocated joint right. I suppose all things had their
humble beginnings, and medicine and surgery were in
the same condition. People who wear watches know
nothing about watchmaking. A watch goes wrong and
it stops ; you see the owner giving it a shake, or, if he
is very bold, he opens the case, and gives the balance-
wheel a turn. Gentlemen, that is empirical practice,
and you know what are the results upon the watch. I
should think you can divine what are the results of ana
logous operations upon the human body. And because
men of sense very soon found that such were the effects
of meddling with very complicated machinery they did
not understand, I suppose the first thing, as being the
easiest, was to study the nature of the works of the
human watch, and the next thing was to study the way
the parts worked together, and the way the watch
worked. Thus, by degrees, we have had growing up our
body of anatomists, or knowers of the construction of the
human watch, and our physiologists, who know how the

m.] ON MEDICAL EDI/CATION. 63

machine works. And just as any sensible man, who has
a valuable watch, does not meddle with it himself, but
goes to some one who has studied watchmaking, and
understands what the effect of doing this or that may
be ; so, I suppose, the man who, having charge of that
valuable machine, his own. body, wants to have it kept
in good order, comes to a professor of the medical art
for the purpose of having it set right, believing that, by
deduction from the facts of structure and from the facts
of function, the physician will divine what may be the
matter with his bodily watch at that particular time, and
what may be the best means of setting it right. If that
may be taken as a just representation of the relation of
the theoretical branches of medicine — what we may call
the institutes of medicine, to use an old term — to the
practical branches, I think it will be obvious to you that
they are of prime and fundamental importance. What
ever tends to affect the teaching of them injuriously
must tend to destroy and to disorganize the whole fabric
of the medical art. I think every sensible man has seen
this long ago ; but the difficulties in the way of attain
ing good teaching in the different branches of the
theory, or institutes, of medicine are very serious. It is
a comparatively easy matter — pray mark that I use the
word " comparatively " — it is a comparatively easy
matter to learn anatomy and to teach it ; it is a very
difficult matter to learn physiology and to teach it. It
is a very difficult matter to know and to teach those
branches of physics and those branches of chemistry
which bear directly upon physiology ; and hence it is
that, as a matter of fact, the teaching of physiology,
and the teaching of the physics and the chemistry
which bear upon it, must necessarily be in a state
of relative imperfection ; and there is nothing to be
grumbled at in the fact that this relative imperfection

64 CRITIQUES AND ADDRESSES. [in.

exists. But is the relative imperfection which exists
only such as is necessary, or is it made worse by our
practical arrangements ? I believe — and if I did not so
believe I should not have troubled you with these obser
vations — I believe it is made infinitely worse by our
practical arrangements, or rather, I ought to say, our very
unpractical arrangements. Some very wise man long ago
affirmed that every question, in the long run, was a ques
tion of finance ; and there is a good deal to be said for
that view. Most assuredly the question of medical
teaching is, in a very large and broad sense, a question
of finance. What I mean is this : that in London the
arrangements of the medical schools, and the number of
them, are such as to render it almost impossible that
men who confine themselves to the teaching of the
theoretical branches of the profession should, be able
to make their bread by that operation ; and, you know, if
a man cannot make his bread, he cannot teach — at least
his teaching comes to a speedy end. That is a matter
of physiology. Anatomy is fairly well taught, because it
lies in the direction of practice, and a man is all the
better surgeon for being a good anatomist. It does not
absolutely interfere with the pursuits of a practical
surgeon if he should hold a Chair of Anatomy — though
I do not for one moment say that he would not be a
better teacher if he did not devote himself to practice.
(Applause.) Yes, I know exactly what that cheer means,
but I am keeping as carefully as possible from any sort
of allusion to Professor Ellis. But the fact is, that even
human anatomy has now grown to be so large a matter,
that it takes the whole devotion of a man's life to put
the great mass of knowledge upon that subject into such
a shape that it can be teachable to the mind of the
ordinary student. What the student wants in a pro
fessor is a man who shall stand between him and the

HI.] ON MEDICAL EDUCATION. 65

infinite diversity and variety of human knowledge, and
who shall gather all that together, and extract from it
that which is capable of being assimilated by the mind.
That function is a vast and an important one, and unless,
in such subjects as anatomy, a man is wholly free from
other cares, it is almost impossible that he can perform
it thoroughly and well. But if it be hardly possible for
a man to pursue anatomy without actually breaking
with his profession, how is it possible for him to pursue
physiology ?

I get every year those very elaborate reports of Henle
and Meissner — volumes of, I suppose, 400 pages alto
gether — and they consist merely of abstracts of the me
moirs and works which have been written on Anatomy
and Physiology — only abstracts of them! How is a
man to keep up his acquaintance with all that is doing
in the physiological world — in a world advancing with
enormous strides every day and every hour — if he has
to be distracted with the cares of practice ? You know
very well it must be impracticable to do so. Our men
of ability join our ^medical schools with an eye to the
future. They take the Chairs of Anatomy or of Phy
siology ; and by and by they leave those Chairs for the
more profitable pursuits into which they have drifted by
professional success, and so they become clothed, and
physiology is bare. The result is, that in those schools
in which physiology is thus left to the benevolence, so
to speak, of those who have no time to look to it, the
effect of such teaching comes out obviously, and is made
manifest in what I spoke of just now — the unreality, the
bookishness of the knowledge of the taught. And if
this is the case in physiology, still more must it be the
case in those branches of physics which are the founda
tion of physiology ; although it may be less the case
in chemistry, because for an able chemist a certain

66 CEITIQUES AND ADDRESSES. [in.

honourable and independent career lies in the direc
tion of his work, and he is able, like the anatomist,
to look upon what he may teach to the student as
not absolutely taking him away from his bread-winning
pursuits.

But it is of no use to grumble about this state of things
unless one is prepared to indicate some sort of practical
remedy. And I believe — and I venture to make the
statement because I am wholly independent of all sorts
of medical schools, and may, therefore, say what I believe
without being supposed to be affected by any personal
interest — but I say I believe that the remedy for this
state of things, for that imperfection of our theoretical
knowledge which keeps down the ability of England at
the present time in medical matters, is a mere affair of
mechanical arrangement; that so long as you have a
dozen medical schools scattered about in different parts
of the metropolis, and dividing the students among them,
so long, in all the smaller schools at any rate, it is im
possible that any other state of things than that which
I have been depicting should obtain. Professors must
live ; to live they must occupy themselves with practice,
and if they occupy themselves with practice, the pursuit
of the abstract branches of science must go to the wall.
All this is a plain and obvious matter of common-sense
reasoning. I believe you will never alter this state of
things until, either by consent or by force majeure — and
I should be very sorry to see the latter applied — but
until there is some new arrangement, and until all the
theoretical branches of the profession, the institutes of
medicine, are taught in London in not more than one or
two, or at the outside three, central institutions, no good
will be effected. If that large body of men, the medical
students of London, were obliged in the first place to
get a knowledge of the theoretical branches of their

.
ml ON MEDICAL EDUCATION. G7

,~"' :f*'

profession in two or three central schools, there would
be abundant means for maintaining able professors — not,
indeed, for enriching them, as they would be able to
enrich themselves by practice — but for enabling them
to make that choice which such men are so willing to
make ; namely, the choice between wealth and a modest
competency, when that modest competency is to be
combined with a scientific career, and the means of ad
vancing knowledge. I do not believe that all the talking
about, and tinkering of, medical education will do the
slightest good until the fact is clearly recognized, that men
must be thoroughly grounded in the theoretical branches
of their profession, and that to this end the teaching of
those theoretical branches must be confined to two or
three centres.

Now let me add one other word, and that is, that if
I were a despot, I would cut down these branches to a
very considerable extent. The next thing to be done
beyond that which I mentioned just now, is to go back
to primary education. The great step towards a thorough
medical education is to insist upon the teaching of the
elements of the physical sciences in all schools, so that
medical students shall not go up to the medical colleges
utterly ignorant of that with which they have to deal ;
to insist on the elements of chemistry, the elements of
botany, and the elements of physics being taught in our
ordinary and common schools, so that there shall be some
preparation for the discipline of medical colleges. And,
if this reform were once effected, you might confine the
" Institutes of Medicine " to physics as applied to phy
siology — to chemistry as applied to physiology — to
physiology itself, and to anatomy. Afterwards, the
student, thoroughly grounded in these matters, might go
to any hospital he pleased for the purpose of studying
the practical branches of his profession. The practical

68 CRITIQUES AXD ADDRESSED. [m.

tcacliing miglit be made as local as you like ; and you
might use to advantage the opportunities afforded by all
these local institutions for acquiring a knowledge of the
practice of the profession. But you may say : " This is
abolishing a great deal ; you are getting rid of botany
and zoology to begin with." I have not a doubt that
they ought to be got rid of, as branches of special
medical education ; they ought to be put back to an
earlier stage, and made branches of general education.
Let me say, by way of self-denying ordinance, for which
you will, I am sure, give me credit, that I believe that
comparative anatomy ought to be absolutely abolished.
I say so, not without a certain fear of the Vice-chan
cellor of the University of London who sits upon my
left. But I do not think the charter gives him very much
power over me ; moreover, I shall soon come to an end of
my examinership, and therefore I am not afraid, but shall
go on to say what I was going to say, and that is, that
in my belief it is a downright cruelty — I have no other
word for it — to require from gentlemen who are engaged
in medical studies, the pretence — for it is nothing else,
and can be nothing else, than a pretence — of a knowledge
of comparative anatomy as part of their medical curri
culum. Make it part of their Arts teaching if you like,
make it part of their general education if you like, make
it part of their qualification for the scientific degree by
all means — that is its proper place ; but to require that
gentlemen whose whole faculties should be bent upon
the acquirement of a real knowledge of human phy
siology should worry themselves with getting up hearsay
about the alternation of generations in the Salpse is
really monstrous. I cannot characterize it in any other
way. And having sacrificed my own pursuit, I am sure
I may sacrifice other people's ; and I make this remark
with all the more willingness because I discovered, on

TIT,] ON MEDICAL EDUCATION. GO

reading the name of your Professors just now, that the
Professor of Materia Medica is not present. I must con
fess, if I had my way I should abolish Materia Medica l
altogether. I recollect, when I was first under exami
nation at the University of London, Dr. Pereira was
the examiner, and you know that " Pereira's Materia
Medica" was a book de omnibus rebus. I recollect
my struggles with that book late at night and early in
the morning (I worked very hard in those days), and I
do believe that I got that book into my head somehow
or other, but then I will undertake to say that I forgot it
all a week afterwards. Not one trace of a knowledge of
drugs has remained in my memory from that time to
this ; and really, as a matter of common sense, I cannot
understand the arguments for obliging a medical man to
know all about drugs and where they come from. Why
not make him belong to the Iron and Steel Institute, and
learn something about cutlery, because he uses knives ?

But do not suppose that, after all these deductions,
there would not be ample room for your activity. Let
us count up what we have left. I suppose all the time
for medical education that can be hoped for is, at the
outside, about four years. Well, what have you to master
in those four years upon my supposition ? Physics ap
plied to physiology ; chemistry applied to physiology ;
physiology ; anatomy ; surgery ; medicine (including
therapeutics) ; obstetrics ; hygiene ; and medical juris
prudence — nine subjects for four years ! And when
you consider what those subjects are, and that the acqui
sition of anything beyond the rudiments of any one
of them may tax the energies of a lifetime, I think
that even those energies which you young gentlemen
have been displaying for the last hour or two might

i It will, I hope, be understood that I do not include Therapeutics under
this head.

70 CRITIQUES AND ADDRESSES. [in.

be taxed to keep you thoroughly up to what is wanted
for your medical career.

I entertain a very strong conviction that any one
who adds to medical education one iota or tittle beyond
what is absolutely necessary, is guilty of a very grave
offence. Gentlemen, it will depend upon the knowledge
that you happen to possess, — upon your means of
applying it within your own field of action, — whether
the bills of mortality of your district are increased or
diminished ; and that, gentlemen, is a very serious con
sideration indeed. And, under those circumstances, the
subjects with which you have to deal being so difficult,
their extent so enormous, and the time at your disposal
so limited, I could not feel my conscience easy if I did
not, on such an occasion as this, raise a protest against
employing your energies upon the acquisition of any
knowledge which may not be absolutely needed in your
future career.

IV.

YEAST.

IT has been known, from time immemorial, that the
sweet liquids which may be obtained by expressing the
juices of the fruits and stems of various plants, or by
steeping malted barley in hot water, or by mixing honey
with water — are liable to undergo a series of very singu
lar changes, if freely exposed to the air and left to them
selves, in warm weather. However clear and pellucid
the liquid may have been when first prepared, however
carefully it may have been freed, by straining and filtra
tion, from even the finest visible impurities, it will not
remain clear. After a time it will become cloudy and
turbid ; little bubbles will be seen rising to the surface,
and their abundance will increase until the liquid hisses
as if it were simmering on the fire. By degrees, some of
the solid particles which produce the turbidity of the
liquid collect at its surface into a scum, which is blown
up by the emerging air-bubbles into a thick, foamy froth.
Another moiety sinks to the bottom, and accumulates as
a muddy sediment, or "lees."

When this action has continued, with more or less
violence, for a certain time, it gradually moderates. The
evolution of bubbles slackens, and finally comes to an

72 CRITIQUES AND ADDRESSES, [iv.

end ; scum and Ices alike settle at the bottom, and the
iiuid is once more clear and transparent. But it lias
acquired properties of which no trace existed in the
original liquid. Instead of being a mere sweet fluid,
mainly composed of sugar and water, the sugar has more
or less completely disappeared, and it has acquired that
peculiar smell and taste which we call "spirituous."
Instead of being devoid of any obvious effect upon the
animal economy, it has become possessed of a very
wonderful influence on the nervous system ; so that in
small doses it exhilarates, while in larger it stupefies, and
may even destroy life.

Moreover, if the original fluid is put into a still, and
heated for a while, the first and last product of its dis
tillation is simple water ; while, when the altered fluid is
subjected to the same process, the matter which is first
condensed in the receiver is found to be a clear, volatile
substance, which is lighter than water, has a pungent
taste and smell, possesses the intoxicating powers of the
fluid in an eminent degree, and takes fire the moment it
is brought in contact with a flame. The alchemists
called this volatile liquid, which they obtained from wine,
" spirits of wine," just as they called hydrochloric acid
" spirits of salt," and as we, to this clay, call refined
turpentine " spirits of turpentine." As the " spiritus,"
or breath, of a man was thought to be the most refined
and subtle part of him, the intelligent essence of man
was also conceived as a sort of breath, or spirit ; and,
by analogy, the most refined essence of anything was
called its " spirit." And thus it has come about that we
use the same word for the soul of man and for a glass
of gin.

At the present day, however, we even more commonly
use another name for this peculiar liquid — namely,
" alcohol," and its origin is not less singular. The Dutch

iv.] YEAST. 73

physician, Van Helmont, lived in the latter part of the
sixteenth and the beginning of the seventeenth century
—in the transition period between alchemy and chemistry
— and was rather more alchemist than chemist. Appended
to his " Opera Omnia," published in 1707, there is a very
needful "Clavis ad obscuriorum sensum referandum," in
which the following passage occurs : —

" ALCOHOL. — Chjmicis est liquor aut pulvis summe subtilisatus,
vocabulo Orientalibus quoque, cum primis Habessinis, familiari, quibus
cohol speciatim pulverem impalpabilera ex antimouio pro oculis tin-
gendis denotat. . . Hodie autem, ob analogiam, quivis pulvis teiierior,
ut pulvis oculorum cancri summe subtilisatus alcohol audit, baud
nliter ac spiritus rectificatissimi alcolisati dicuntur."

Similarly, Eobert Boyle speaks of a fine powder as
" alcohol ; " and, so late as the middle of the last cen
tury, the English lexicographer, Nathan Bailey, defines
" alcohol " as " the pure substance of anything separated
from the more gross, a very fine and impalpable powder,
or a very pure, well-rectified spirit." But, by the time
of the publication of Lavoisier's " Traite Elementairc de
Chimie," in 1789, the term "alcohol," " alkohol," or
" alkool " (for it is spelt in all three ways), which Van
Helmont had applied primarily to a fine powder, and only
secondarily to spirits of wine, had lost its primary mean
ing altogether ; and, from the end of the last century
until now, it has, I believe, been used exclusively as the
denotation of spirits of wine, and bodies chemically
allied to that substance.

The process which gives rise to alcohol in a saccharine
fluid is known to us as " fermentation ; ;; a term based
upon the apparent boiling up or " effervescence " of the
fermenting liquid, and of Latin origin.

Our Teutonic cousins call the same process "gfthren,"
"giisen," "goschen," and "gischen;" but, oddly enough,
we do not seem to have retained their verb or tlieii

74 CRITIQUES AND ADDRESSES. [iv.

substantive denoting the action itself, though we do use
names identical with, or plainly derived from, theirs for
the scum and lees. These are called, in Low German,
"gascht" and "gischt;" in Anglo-Saxon, "gest," "gist,"
and "yst," whence our "yeast." Again, in Low German
and in Anglo-Saxon, there is another name for yeast,
having the form " barm," or " beorm ; " and, in the
Midland Counties, "barm" is the name by which yeast
is still best known. In High German, there is a third
name for yeast, "hefe," which is not represented in
English, so far as I know.

All these words are said by philologers to be derived
from roots expressive of the intestine motion of a
fermenting substance. Thus " hefe " is derived from
"heben," to raise; "barm" from "beren" or "baren,"
to bear up ; " yeast," " yst," and " gist," have all to do
with seething and foam, with "yeasty waves," and
" gusty " breezes.

The same reference to the swelling up of the ferment
ing substance is seen in the Gallo-Latin terms "levure"

O

and " leaven."

It is highly creditable to the ingenuity of our ancestors
that the peculiar property of fermented liquids, in virtue
of which they " make glad the heart of man," seems to
have been known in the remotest periods of which we
have any record. All savages take to alcoholic fluids
as if they were to the manner born. Our Vedic fore
fathers intoxicated themselves with the juice of the
" soma ; " Noah, by a not unnatural reaction against a
superfluity of water, appears to have taken the earliest
practicable opportunity of qualifying that which he was
obliged to drink ; and the ghosts of the ancient Egyptians
were solaced by pictures of banquets in which the wine-
cup passes round, graven on the walls of their tombs.
A knowledge of the process of fermentation, therefore,

iv.] YEAST. 75

was in all probability possessed by the prehistoric
populations of the globe ; and it must have become a
matter of great interest even to primaeval wine-bibbers
to study the methods by which, fermented liquids could
be surely manufactured. No doubt, therefore, it was
soon discovered that the most certain, as well as the
most expeditious, way of making a sweet juice ferment
was to add to it a little of the scum, or lees, of another
fermenting juice. And it can hardly be questioned that
this singular excitation of fermentation in one fluid, by
a sort of infection, or inoculation, of a little ferment
taken from some other fluid, together with the strange
swelling, foaming, and hissing of the fermented sub
stance, must have always attracted attention from the
more thoughtful. Nevertheless, the commencement of
the scientific analysis of the phenomena dates from a
period not earlier than the first half of the seventeenth
century.

At this time, Van Helmont made a first step, by
pointing out that the peculiar hissing and bubbling of a
fermented liquid is due, not to the evolution of common
air (which he, as the inventor of the term "gas," calls
"gas ventosum"), but to that of a peculiar kind of air
such as is occasionally met with in caves, mines, and
wells, and which he calls " gas sylvestre."

But a century elapsed before the nature of this " gas
sylvestre," or, as it was afterwards called, "fixed air,"
was clearly determined, and it was found to be identical
with that deadly " choke-damp " by which the lives of
those who descend into old wells, or mines, or brewers'
vats, are sometimes suddenly ended; and with the
poisonous aeriform fluid which is produced by the com
bustion of charcoal, and now goes by the name of
carbonic acid gas.

During the same time it gradually became clear that

76 CRITIQUES AND ADDRESSES. [IT.

the presence of sugar was essential to the production of
alcohol and the evolution of carbonic acid gas, which are
the two great and conspicuous products of fermentation.
And finally, in 1787, the Italian chemist, Fabroni, made
the capital discovery that the yeast ferment, the presence
of which is necessary to fermentation, is what he termed
a " vegeto-animal " substance — or is a body which gives
off ammoniacal salts when it is burned, and is, in other
ways, similar to the gluten of plants and the albumen
and casein of animals.

These discoveries prepared the way for the illustrious
Frenchman, Lavoisier, who first approached the problem
of fermentation with a complete conception of the nature
of the work to be done. The words in which he ex
presses this conception, in the treatise on elementary
chemistry to which reference has already been made,
mark the year 1789 as the commencement of a revolu
tion of not less moment in the world of science than
that which simultaneously burst over the political world,
and soon engulfed Lavoisier himself in one of its mad

O

eddies.

" We may lay it down as an incontestable axiom that, in all the
operations of art and nature, nothing is created ; an equal quantity of
matter exists both before and after the experiment : the quality and
quantity of the elements remain precisely the same, and nothing takes
place beyond changes and modifications in the combinations of these
elements. Upon this principle, the whole art of performing chemical
experiments depends ; we must always suppose an exact equality
between the elements of the body examined and those of the products
of its analysis.

" Hence, since from must of grapes we procure alcohol and carbonic
acid, I have an undoubted right to suppose that must consists of car
bonic acid and alcohol. From these premisses we have two modes of
ascertaining what passes during vinous fermentation : either by deter
mining the nature of, and the elements which compose, the ferment
able substances ; or by accurately examining the products resulting
from fermentation ; and it is evident that the knowledge of either of
these must lead to accurate conclusions concerning the nature and corn-

iv.] YEAST. 77"

position of the other. From these considerations it became necessary
accurately to determine the constituent elements of the fermentable
substances ; and for this purpose I did not make use of the compound
juices of fruits, the rigorous analysis of which is perhaps impossible,
bat made choice of sugar, which is easily analysed, and the nature of
which I have already explained. This substance is a true vegetable
oxyd, with two bases, composed of hydrogen and carbon, brought to
the state of an oxyd by means of a certain proportion of oxygen ; and
t'lese three elements are combined in such a way that a very slight
force is sufficient to destroy the equilibrium of their connection.7'

After giving the details of his analysis of sugar and
of the products of fermentation, Lavoisier continues : —

" The effect of the vinous fermentation upon sugar is thus reduced
to the mere separation of its elements into two portions ; one part is
oxygenated at the expense of the other, so as to form carbonic acid ;
while the other part, being disoxygenated in favour of the latter, is
converted into the combustible substance called alkohol ; therefore, if
it were possible to re-unite alkohol and carbonic acid together, we
ought to form sugar."1

Thus Lavoisier thought he had demonstrated that the
carbonic acid and the alcohol which are produced by
the process of fermentation, are equal in weight to the
sugar which disappears ; but the application of the more
refined methods of modern chemistry to the investigation
of the products of fermentation by Pasteur, in I860,
proved that this is not exactly true, and that there is
a deficit of from 5 to 7 per cent, of the sugar which is
not covered by the alcohol and carbonic acid evolved.
The greater part of this deficit is accounted for by the
discovery of two substances, glycerine and succinic acid,
of the existence of which Lavoisier was unaware, in the
fermented liquid. But about 1-J per cent, still remains
to be made good. According to Pasteur, it has been
appropriated by the yeast, but the fact that such appro
priation takes place cannot be said to be actually proved.

i " Elements of Chemistry." By M. Lavoisier. Translated by Robert
Kcrr. Second Edition, 1793 (pp. ISO — 19G).

78 CRITIQUES AND ADDRESSES. [iv.

However this may be, there can be no doubt that the
constituent elements of fully 98 per cent, of the sugar
which has vanished during fermentation have simply
undergone rearrangement ; like the soldiers of a brigade,
who at the word of command divide themselves into
the independent regiments to which they belong. The
brigade is sugar, the regiments are carbonic acid, succinic
acid, alcohol, and glycerine.

From the time of Fabroni, onwards, it has been ad
mitted that the agent by which this surprising rearrange
ment of the particles of the sugar is effected is the yeast.
But the first thoroughly conclusive evidence of' the
necessity of yeast for the fermentation of sugar was
furnished by Appert, whose method of preserving perish
able articles of food excited so much attention in France
at the beginning of this century. Gay-Lussac, in his
" Memoire sur la Fermentation," l alludes to Appert's
method of preserving beer-wort unfermerited for an
indefinite time, by simply boiling the wort and closing
the vessel in which the boiling fluid is contained, in such
a way as thoroughly to exclude air ; and he shows that,
if a little yeast be introduced into such wort, after it
has cooled, the wort at once begins to ferment, even
though every precaution be taken to exclude air. And
this statement has since received full confirmation from
Pasteur.

On the other hand, Schwann, Schroeder and Dusch,
and Pasteur, have amply proved that air may be allowed
to have free access to beer-wort, without exciting
fermentation, if only efficient precautions are taken
to prevent the entry of particles of yeast along with
the air.

Thus, the truth that the fermentation of a simple
solution of sugar in water depends upon the presence of

1 " Aimales de Cliimie," 1810.

iv.] YEAST. 79

yeast, rests upon an unassailable foandation ; and the
inquiry into the exact nature of the substance which
possesses such a wonderful chemical influence becomes
profoundly interesting.

The first step towards the solution of this problem
was made two centuries ago by the patient and pains
taking Dutch naturalist, Leeuwenhoek, who in the year
1680 wrote thus :—

"Ssepissime examinavi fermentum cerevisiae, semperque hoc ex
globulis per materiam pellucidam fluitantibus, quam cerevisiam esse
censui, constare observavi : vidi etiam evidentissime, unumquemque
hujus ferment! globulum denuo ex sex distinctia globullis constare,
accurate eidem quantitate et formoe, cui globulis sanguinis nostri,
respondentibus.

" Verum tails mihi de horum origine et formatione conceptus for-
mabam ; globulis nempe ex quibus farina Tritici, Hordei, AvensD,
Fagotritici, se constat aquas calore dissolvi et aquae commisceri ; hac,
vero aqua, quam cerevisiam vocare licet, refrigescente, multos ex
minimis particulis in cerevisia coadunari, et hoc pacto efficere particu-
lam sive globulum, quse sexta pars est globuli fsecis, et iterum sex ex
hisce globulis conjungi."1

Thus Leeuwenhoek discovered that yeast consists of
globules floating in a fluid; but he thought that they
were merely the starchy particles of the grain from which
the wort was made, re-arranged. He discovered the fact
that yeast had a definite structure, but not the meaning
of the fact. A century and a half elapsed, and the in
vestigation of yeast was recommenced almost simulta
neously by Cagniard de la Tour in France, and by
Schwann andKlitzing in Germany. The French observer
was the first to publish his results ; and the subject
received at his hands and at those of his colleague, the

o *

botanist Turpin, full and satisfactory investigation.

The main conclusions at which they arrived are these.
The globular, or oval, corpuscles which float so thickly in
1 Leeuwenhoek, "Arcana Naturae Detecta." Ed. Nov., 1721.

80 CRITIQUES AND ADDRESSES. [iv.

the yeast as to make it muddy, though the largest are
not more than one two -thousandth of an inch in diameter,
and the smallest may measure less than one seven-
thousandth of an inch, are living organisms. They
multiply with great rapidity, by giving off minute buds,
which soon attain the size of their parent, and then either
become detached or remain united, forming the compound
globules of which Leeuwenhoek speaks, though the con
stancy of their arrangement in sixes existed only in the
worthy Dutchman's imagination.

It was very soon made out that these yeast organisms,
to which Turpin gave the name of Torula cerevisiw, were
more nearly allied to the lower Fungi than to anything
else. Indeed Turpin, and subsequently Berkeley and
Hoffmann, believed that they had traced the development
of the Torula into the well-known and very common mould
— the Penicillium glaucum. Other observers have not
succeeded in verifying these statements ; and my own
observations lead me to believe, that while the connection
between Torula and the moulds is a very close one, it
is of a different nature from that which has been supposed.
I have never been able to trace the development of Torula
into a true mould ; but it is quite easy to prove that
species of true mould, such as Penicillium, when sown
in an appropriate nidus, such as a solution of tartrate of
ammonia and yeast-ash, in water, with or without sugar,
give rise to Torulce, similar in all respects to T. cerevisice,
except that they are, on the average, smaller. Moreover,
Bail has observed the development- of a Torula larger
than T. cerevisice, from a Mucor, a mould allied to
Penicillium.

It follows, therefore, that the Torulcs, or organisms of
yeast, are veritable plants ; and conclusive experiments
have proved that the power which causes the rearrange
ment of the molecules of the sugar is intimately connected

iv.] YEAST. 81

with the life and growth of the plant. In fact, whatever
arrests the vital activity of the plant also prevents it
from exciting fermentation.

Such being the facts with regard to the nature of yeast,
and the changes which it effects in sugar, how are they
to be accounted for? Before modern chemistry had
come into existence, Stahl, stumbling, with the stride of
genius, upon the conception which lies at the bottom of
all modern views of the process, put forward the notion
that the ferment, being in a state of internal motion,
communicated that motion to the sugar, and thus caused
its resolution into new stubstances. And Lavoisier, as
we have seen, adopts substantially the same view. But
Fabroni, full of the then novel conception of acids and
bases and double decompositions, propounded the hypo
thesis that sugar is an oxide with two bases, and the
ferment a carbonate with two bases ; that the carbon of
the ferment unites with the oxygen of the sugar, and
gives rise to carbonic acid ; while the sugar, uniting with
the nitrogen of the ferment, produces a new substance
analogous to opium. This is decomposed by distillation,
and gives rise to alcohol. Next, in 1803, Thenard pro
pounded a hypothesis which partakes somewhat of the
nature of both Stahl's and Fabroni's views. " I do not
believe with Lavoisier," he says, " that all the carbonic
acid formed proceeds from the sugar. How, in that case,
could we conceive the action of the ferment on it ? I
think that the first portions of the acid are due to a
combination of the carbon of the ferment with the oxygen
of the sugar, and that it is by carrying off a portion of
oxygen from the last that the ferment causes the fer
mentation to commence — the equilibrium between the
principles of the sugar being disturbed, they combine
afresh to form carbonic acid and alcohol."

The three views here before us may be familiarly

82 CRITIQUES AND ADDRESSES. [IT.

exemplified by supposing the sugar to be a card-house.
According to Stahl, the ferment is somebody who knocks
the table, and shakes the card-house down ; according to
Fabroni, the ferment takes out some cards, but puts
others in their places ; according to Thenard, the ferment
simply takes a card out of the bottom story, the result
of which is that all the others fall.

As chemistry advanced, facts came to light which put
a new face upon Stahl's hypothesis, and gave it a safer
foundation than it previously possessed. The general
nature of these phenomena may be thus stated : — A body,

A, without giving to, or taking from, another body,

B, any material particles, causes B to decompose into
other substances, C, D, E, the sum of the weights of
which is equal to the weight of B, which decomposes.

Thus, bitter almonds contain two substances, amyg-
dalin and synaptase, which can be extracted, in a separate
state, from the bitter almonds. The amygdalin thus
obtained, if dissolved in water, undergoes no change ;
but if a little synaptase be added to the solution, the
amygdalin splits up into bitter almond oil, prussic acid,
and a kind of sugar.

A short time after Cagniard de la Tour discovered the
yeast plant, Liebig, struck with the similarity between
this and other such processes and the fermentation of
sugar, put forward the hypothesis that yeast contains a
substance which acts upon sugar, as synaptase acts upon
amygdalin. And as the synaptase is certainly neither
organized nor alive, but a mere chemical substance,
Liebig treated Cagniard de la Tour's discovery with no
small contempt, and, from that time to the present, has
steadily repudiated the notion that the decomposition of
the sugar is, in any sense, the result of the vital activity
of the Torula. But, though the notion that the Torula
is a creature which eats sugar and excretes carbonic acid

iv.] YJ4AST. 83

and alcohol, which is not unjustly ridiculed in the most
surprising paper that ever made its appearance in a
grave scientific journal,1 may be untenable, the fact that
the ToTulcB are alive, and that yeast does not excite fer
mentation unless it contains living Torulce, stands fast.
Moreover, of late years, the essential participation of
living organisms in fermentation other than the alco
holic, has been clearly made out by Pasteur and other
chemists.

However, it may be asked, is there any necessary op
position between the so-called "vital" and the strictly
physico-chemical views of fermentation ? It is quite pos
sible that the living Torula may excite fermentation in
sugar, because it constantly produces, as an essential part
of its vital manifestations, some substance which acts
upon the sugar, just as the synaptase acts upon the
amygdalin. Or it may be, that, without the formation
of any such special substance, the physical condition of
the living tissue of the yeast plant is sufficient to effect
that small disturbance of the equilibrium of the particles
of the sugar, which Lavoisier thought sufficient to effect
its decomposition.

Platinum in a very fine state of division — -known as
platinum black, or noir de platine — has the very singu
lar property of causing alcohol to change into acetic acid
with great rapidity. The vinegar plant, which is closely

1 " Das entrathselte Geheimniss der geistigen Gahrung (Vorlaufige briefliclie
Mittheilung) " is the title of an anonymous contribution to Wohler and
Liebig's " Annalen der Pharmacie" for 1839, in which a somewhat Rabelaisian
imaginary description of the organization of the " yeast animals " and of the
manner in which their functions are performed, is given with a circumstantiality
worthy of the author of Gulliver's Travels. As a specimen of the writer's humour,
his account of what happens when fermentation comes to an end may suffice.
" Sobald namlich die Thiere keinen Zucker mehr vorfinden, so fressen sie sich
gegenseitig selbst auf, was durch eine eigene Manipulation geschieht ; alles wird
verdaut bis auf die Eier, welche unveraudert durch den Darmkanal hineingehen ,'
man hat zuletzt wieder gahrungsfahige Hefe, namlich den Saamen der Thiere,
der iibrig bleibt."

5

84 CRITIQUES AND ADDRESSES. [iv.

allied to the yeast plant, lias a similar effect upon dilute
alcohol, causing it to absorb the oxygen of the air, and
become converted into vinegar; and Liebig's eminent
opponent, Pasteur, who has done so much for the theory
and the practice of vinegar-making, himself suggests that
in this case —

" La cause du phenomena physique qui accompagne la Tie de la
plante reside dans un 6tat physique propre, analogue & celui du noir
de platine. Mais il est essentiel do remarquer que cet etat physique
de la plante est etroitement lie avec la vie de cette plante." 1

Now, if the vinegar plant gives rise to the oxidation
of alcohol, on account of its merely physical constitution,
it is at any rate possible that the physical constitution
of the yeast plant may exert a decomposing influence

on sugar.

But, without presuming to discuss a question which
leads us into the very arcana of chemistry, the present
state of speculation upon the modus operandi of the
yeast plant in producing fermentation is represented, on
the one hand, by the Stahlian doctrine, supported by
Liebig, according to which the atoms of the sugar are
shaken into new combinations, either directly by the
Torulce, or indirectly, by some substance formed by
them ; and, on the other hand, by the Thenardian doc
trine, supported by Pasteur, according to which the yeast
plant assimilates part of the sugar, and, in so doing, dis
turbs the rest, and determines its resolution into the
products of fermentation. Perhaps the two views are
not so much opposed as they seem at first sight to be.

But the interest which attaches to the influence of the
yeast plants upon the medium in which they live and
grow does not arise solely from its bearing upon the
theory of fermentation. So long ago as 1838, Turpin
compared the Tondce to the ultimate elements of the

"Etudes surles Mycodermes," Comptes-Rendus, liv., 1SC2.

iv.] YEAST. 85

tissues of animals and plants — " Les organes elemen-
taires de leurs tissus, comparables aux petits vegetaux
des levures ordinaires, sont aussi les decompositeurs des
substances qui les environnent."

Almost at the same time, and, probably, equally guided
by his study of yeast, Schwann was engaged in those re
markable investigations into the form and development
of the ultimate structural elements of the tissues of
animals, which led him to recognize tbeir fundamental
identity with the ultimate structural elements of vege
table organisms.

The yeast plant is a mere sac, or " cell," containing a
semi-fluid matter, and Schwann's microscopic a.nalysis
resolved all living organisms, in the long run, into an
aggregation of such sacs or cells, variously modified ; and
tended to show, that all, whatever their ultimate compli
cation, begin their existence in the condition of such
simple cells.

In his famous " Mikroskopische Untersuchungen "
Schwann speaks of Torula as a " cell ; " and, in a re
markable note to the passage in which he refers to the
yeast plant, Schwann says : —

" I have been unable to avoid mentioning fermentation, because it is
the most fully and exactly known operation of cells, and represents,
in the simplest fashion, the process which is repeated by every cell of
the living body."

In other words, Schwann conceives that every cell of
the living body exerts an influence on the matter which
surrounds and permeates it, analogous to that which a
Torula exerts on the saccharine solution by which it is
bathed. A wonderfully suggestive thought, opening up
views of the nature of the chemical processes of the
living body, which have hardly yet received all the
development of which they are capable.

Kant defined the special peculiarity of the living body

86 CRITIQUES AND ADDRESSES. [iv.

to be that the parts exist for the sake of the whole and
the whole for the sake of the parts. But when Turpin
and Schwann resolved the living body into an aggrega
tion of quasi-independent cells, each, like a Torula,
leading its own life and having its own laws of growth
and development, the aggregation being dominated and
kept working towards a definite end only by a certain
harmony among these units, or by the superaddition of
a controlling apparatus, such as a nervous system, this
conception ceased to be tenable. The cell lives for its
own sake, as well as for the sake of the whole organism ;
and the cells, which float in the blood, live at its
expense, and profoundly modify it, are almost as much
independent organisms as the Torulce which float in
beer-wort.

Schwann burdened his enunciation of the " cell
theory " with two false suppositions ; the one, that the
structures he called "nucleus" and "cell-wall" are
essential to a cell ; the other, that cells are usually
formed independently of other cells; but, in 1839, it
was a vast and clear gain to arrive at the conception,
that the vital functions of all the higher animals and
plants are the resultant of the forces inherent in the
innumerable minute cells of which they are composed,
and that each of them is, itself, an equivalent of one of
the lowest and simplest of independent living beings—
the Torula.

From purely morphological investigations, Turpin and
Schwann, as we have seen, arrived at the notion of the
fundamental unity of structure of living beings. And,
before long, the researches of chemists gradually led up
to the conception of the fundamental unity of their
composition.

So far back as 1803, Thenard pointed out, in most
distinct terms, the important fact that yeast contains a

iv.] YEAST. 87

nitrogenous "animal" substance; and that such a sub
stance is contained in all ferments. Before him, Fabroni
and Fourcroy speak of the " vegeto-animal " matter of
yeast. In 1844 Mulder endeavoured to demonstrate
that a peculiar substance, which he called " protein/'
was essentially characteristic of living matter.
In 1846, Pay en writes : —

" Enfin, une loi sans exception me semble apparaitre dans les faits
nombreux que j'ai observes et conduire a envisager sous un nouveau
jour la vie ve"getale ; si je ne m'abuse, tout ce que dans les tissus
vegetaux la vue directe ou amplifiee nous permet de discerner sous la
forme de cellules et de vai.sseaux, ne represente autre chose que les
enveloppes protectrices, les reservoirs et les conduits, a 1'aide desquels
les corps anirnes qui les secretent et les faconnent, se logent,
puisent et charrient leurs aliments, deposent et isolent les matieres
excr^tees."

And again :—

" Afm de completer aujourd'hui 1'enonce du fait general, je rappel-
lerai que les corps, doue des fonctions accomplies dans les tissus des
plantes, sont forme's des elements qui constituent, en proportion peu
variable, les organismes animaux; qu'aiusi Ton est conduit a reconnaitre
une immense unite de composition 61ementaire dans tous les corps
vivants de la nature."1

In the year (1846) in which these remarkable passages
were published, the eminent German botanist, Von Mohl,
invented the word " protoplasm/' as a name for one por
tion of those nitrogenous contents of the cells of living
plants, the close chemical resemblance of which to the
essential constituents of living animals is so strongly
indicated by Pay en. And through the twenty-five years
that have passed, since the matter of life was first called
protoplasm, a host of investigators, among whom Colin,
Max Scliulze, and Kiihne must be named as leaders, have
accumulated evidence, morphological, physiological, and

1 "Mem. sur les Developpements des Ye'ge'taux," £c. —"Mem. Presentees."
ix. 1846.

88 CEITIQUES AND ADDRESSES. [iv.

chemical, in favour of that "immense unite de compo
sition elementaire dans tous les corps vivants de la
nature," into which Payen had, so early, a clear insight.
As far back as 1850, Colin wrote, apparently without
any knowledge of what Payen had said before him : — •

" The protoplasm of the botanist, and the contractile substance and
sarcode of the zoologist, must be, if not identical, yet in a high degree
analogous substances. Hence, from this point of view, the difference
between animals and plants consists in this ; that, in the latter, the con
tractile substance, as a primordial utricle, is enclosed within an inert
cellulose membrane, which permits it only to exhibit an internal
motion, expressed by the phenomena of rotation and circulation, while,
in the former, it is not so enclosed. The protoplasm in the form of the
primordial utricle is, as it were, the animal element in the plant, but
which is imprisoned, and only becomes free in the animal ; or, to strip
off the metaphor which obscures simple thought, the energy of organic
vitality which is manifested in movement is especially exhibited by a
nitrogenous contractile substance, which in plants is limited and
fettered by an inert membrane, in animals not so."1

In 1868, thinking that an untechnical statement of
the views current among the leaders of biological science
might be interesting to the general public, I gave a
lecture embodying them in Edinburgh. Those who
have not made the mistake of attempting to approach
biology, either by the high cl priori road of mere philo
sophical speculation, or by the mere low d posteriori
lane offered by the tube of a microscope, but have taken
the trouble to become acquainted with well-ascertained
facts and with their history, will not need to be told
that in what I had to say " as regards protoplasm " in
my lecture " On the Physical Basis of Life," there was
nothing new ; and, as I hope, nothing that the present
state of knowledge does not justify us in believing to
be true. Under these circumstances, my surprise may
be imagined, when I found, that the mere statement of

1 Colin, " Ucber Protococcus pluvialis," in tlic "Nova Acta" for 1850.

iv.] YEAST. 89

facts and of views, long familiar to me as part of the
common scientific property of continental workers, raised
a sort of storm in this country, not only by exciting
the wrath of unscientific persons whose pet prejudices
they seemed to touch, but by giving rise to quite
superfluous explosions on the part of some who should
Lave been better informed.

Dr. Stirling, for example, made my essay the subject
of a special critical lecture,1 which I have read with much
interest, though, I confess, the meaning of much of it
i-emains as dark to me as does the (i Secret of Hegel "
after Dr. Stirling's elaborate revelation of it. Dr. Stirling's
method of dealing with the subject is peculiar. " Proto
plasm " is a question of history, so far as it is a name ;
of fact, so far as it is a thing. Dr. Stirling has not
taken the trouble to refer to the original authorities for
his history, which is consequently a travesty ; and still
less has he concerned himself with looking at the facts,
but contents himself with taking them also at second
hand. A most amusing example of this fashion of
dealing with scientific statements is furnished by Dr.
Stirling's remarks upon my account of the protoplasm
of the nettle hair. That account was drawn up from
careful and often-repeated observation of the facts. Dr.
Stirling thinks he is offering a valid criticism, when he
says that my valued friend Professor Strieker gives a
somewhat different statement about protoplasm. But
why in the world did not this distinguished Hegelian
look at a nettle hair for himself, before venturing to
speak about the matter at all ? Why trouble himself
about what either Strieker or I say, when any tyro can
see the facts for himself, if he is provided with those
not rare articles, a nettle and a microscope ? But I
suppose this would have been " Aufklarung "•— a recur-

1 Subsequently published under the title of " As regards Protoplasm."

90 CRITIQUES AND ADDRESSES. [iv.

rence to the base common-sense philosophy of the
eighteenth century, which liked to see before it believed,
and to understand before it criticised. Dr. Stirling winds
up his paper with the following paragraph : —

" In short, the whole position of Mr. Huxley, (1) that all organisms
consist alike of the same life-matter, (2) which life-matter is, for its
part, due only to chemistry, must be pronounced untenable — nor less
untenable (3) the materialism he would found on it."

The paragraph contains three distinct assertions con
cerning my views, and just the same number of utter
misrepresentations of them. That which I have numbered
(1) turns on the ambiguity of the word "same," for a
discussion of which I would refer Dr. Stirling to a great
hero of "Aufklarung" Archbishop Whately ; statement
number (2) is, in my judgment, absurd, and certainly
I have never said anything resembling it ; while, as to
number (3), one great object of my essay was to show
that what is called " materialism " has no sound philo
sophical basis !

As we have seen, the study of yeast has led inves
tigators face to face with problems of immense interest
in pure chemistry, and in animal and vegetable mor
phology. Its physiology is not less rich in subjects for
inquiry. Take, for example, the singular fact that yeast
will increase indefinitely when grown in the dark, in
water containing only tartrate of ammonia, a small per
centage of mineral salts, and sugar. Out of these
materials the Torulce will manufacture nitrogenous pro
toplasm, cellulose, and fatty matters, in any quantity,
although they are wholly deprived of those rays of the
sun, the influence of which is essential to the growth of
ordinary plants. There has been a great deal of specu
lation lately, as to how the living organisms buried
beneath two or three thousand fathoms of water, and
therefore in all probability almost deprived of light, live.

iv.] YEAST. 91

If any of them possess the same powers as yeast (and
the same capacity for living without light is exhibited
by some other fungi) there would seem to be no difficulty
about the matter.

Of the pathological bearings of the study of yeast, and
other such organisms, I have spoken elsewhere. It is
certain that, in some animals, devastating epidemics are
caused by fungi of low order — similar to those of which
Torula is a sort of offshoot. It is certain that such
diseases are propagated by contagion and infection, in
just the same way as ordinary contagious and infectious
diseases are propagated. Of course, it does not follow
from this, that all* contagious and infectious diseases are
caused by organisms of as definite and independent a
character as the Torula ; but, I think, it does follow that
it is prudent and wise to satisfy oneself in each parti
cular case, that the " germ theory " cannot and will not
explain the facts, before having recourse to hypotheses
which have no equal support from analogy.

V.

ON THE FOKMA.TION OF COAL.

THE lumps of coal in a coal-scuttle very often have a
roughly cubical form. If one of them be picked out and
examined with a little care, it will be found that its six
sides are not exactly alike. Two opposite sides are com
paratively smooth and shining, while the other four
are much, rougher, and are marked by lines which run
parallel with the smooth sides. The coal readily splits
along these lines, and the split surfaces thus formed are
parallel with the smooth faces. In other words, there
is a sort of rough and incomplete stratification in the
lump of coal, as if it were a book, the leaves of which
had stuck together very closely.

Sometimes the faces along which the coal splits arc
not smooth, but exhibit a thin layer of dull, charred -
looking substance, which is known as "mineral charcoal/'

Occasionally one of the faces of a lump of coal will
present impressions, which are obviously those of the
stem, or leaves, of a plant ; but though hard mineral
masses of pyrites, and even fine mud, may occur here
and there, neither sand nor pebbles are met with.

When the coal burns, the chief ultimate products of
its combustion are carbonic acid, water, and ammoniacal

v.] ON THE FORMATION OF COAL. 03

products, which escape up the chimney ; and a greater
or less amount of residual earthy salts, which take the
form of ash. These products are, to a great extent, such
us would result from the burning of so much wood.

These properties of coal may be made out without any
very refined appliances, but the microscope reveals some
thing more. Black and opaque as ordinary coal is, slices
of it become transparent if they are cemented in Canada
balsam, and rubbed down very thin, in the ordinary way
of making thin sections of non-transparent bodies. But
as the thin slices, made in this way, are very apt to
crack and break into fragments, it is better to employ
marine glue as the cementing material. By the use of
this substance, slices of considerable size and of extreme
thinness and transparency may be obtained.1

Now let us suppose two such slices to be prepared
from our lump of coal — one parallel with the bedding,
the other perpendicular to it ; and let us call the one
the horizontal, and the other the vertical, section. The
horizontal section will present more or less rounded
yellow patches and streaks, scattered irregularly through
the dark brown, or blackish, ground substance ; while
the vertical section will exhibit more elongated bars and
granules of the same yellow materials, disposed in lines
which correspond, roughly, with the general direction of
the bedding of the coal.

This is the microscopic structure of an ordinary piece
of coal. But if a great series of coals, from different
localities and seams, or even from different parts of the
same seam, be examined, this structure will be found to
vary in two directions. In the anthracitic, or stone-
coals, which burn like coke, the yellow matter diminishes,
and the ground substance becomes more predominant,

1 My assistant in the Museum of Practical Geology, Mr. Newton, invented
this excellent method of obtaining thin slices of coal.

94 CRITIQUES AND ADDEESSES. [v.

and blacker, and more opaque, until it becomes impos
sible to* grind a section thin enough to be translucent;
while, on the other hand, in such as the "Better-Bed"
coal of the neighbourhood of Bradford, which burns with
much flame, the coal is of a far lighter colour, and trans
parent sections are very easily obtained. In the browner
parts of this coal, sharp eyes will readily detect multi
tudes of curious little coin-shaped bodies, of a yellowish
brown colour, embedded in the dark brown ground sub
stance. On the average, these little brown bodies may
have a diameter of about one-twentieth of an inch.
They lie with their flat surfaces nearly parallel with the
two smooth faces of the block in which they are con
tained ; and, on one side of each, there may be discerned
a figure, consisting of three straight linear marks, which
radiate from the centre of the disk, but do not quite
reach its circumference. In the horizontal section these
disks are often converted into more or less complete
rings; while in the vertical sections they appear like
thick hoops, the sides of which have been pressed to
gether. The disks arc, therefore, flattened bags ; and
favourable sections show that the three-rayed marking is
the expression of three clefts, which penetrate one wall
of the bag.

The sides of the bags are sometimes closely approxi
mated; but, when the bags are less flattened, their
cavities are, usually, filled with numerous, irregularly
rounded, hollow bodies, having the same kind of wall as
the large ones, but not more than one seven-hundredth
of an inch in diameter.

In favourable specimens, again, almost the whole
ground substance appears to be made up of similar
bodies — more or less carbonized or blackened — and, in
these, there can be no doubt that, with the exception of
patches of mineral charcoal, here and there, the whole

v.] OiY THE FORMATION OF COAL. ? Y 95

mass of the coal is made up o
larger and of the smaller sacs.

But, in one and the same slice, every transition can
be observed from this structure to that which has been
described as characteristic of ordinary coal. The latter
appears to rise out of the former, by the breaking-up
and increasing carbonization of the larger and the
smaller sacs. And, in the anthracitic coals, this process
appears to have gone to such a length, as to destroy the
original structure altogether, and to replace it by a com
pletely carbonized substance.

Thus coal may be said, speaking broadly, to be com
posed of two constituents : firstly, mineral charcoal ;
and, secondly, coal proper. The nature of the mineral
charcoal has long since been determined. Its structure
shows it to consist of the remains of the stems and
leaves of plants, reduced to little more than their carbon.
Again, some of the coal is made up of the crushed and
flattened bark, or outer coat, of the stems of plants, the
inner wood of which has completely decayed away. But
what I may term the " saccular matter " of the coal,
which, either in its primary or in its degraded form, con
stitutes by far the greater part of all the bituminous
coals I have examined, is certainly not mineral charcoal ;
nor is its structure that of any stem or leaf. Hence its
real nature is, at first, by no means apparent, and has
been the subject of much discussion.

The first person who threw any light upon the pro
blem, as far as I have been able to discover, was the
well-known geologist, Professor Morris. It is now thirty-
four years since he carefully described and figured the
coin-shaped bodies, or larger sacs, as I have called them,
in. a note appended to the famous paper " On the Coal-
brookdale Coal-Field," published at that time, by the
present President of the Geological Society, Mr. Prest-

96 CRITIQUES AND ADDRESSES. [v.

wich. With much sagacity, Professor Morris divined the
real nature of these bodies, and boldly affirmed them
to be the spore-cases of a plant allied to the living
club-mosses.

But discovery sometimes makes a long halt ; and it is
only a few years since Mr. Carruthers determined the
plant (or rather one of the plants) which produces these
spore-cases, by finding the discoidal sacs still adherent
to the leaves of the fossilized cone which produced them.
He gave the name of Flemingites gracilis to the plant
of which the cones form a part. The branches and stem
of this plant are not yet certainly known, but there is
no sort of doubt that it was closely allied to the Lepi-
dodendron, the remains of which abound in the coal
formation. The Lepidodendra were shrubs and trees
which put one more in mind of an Araucaria than of
any other familiar plant ; and the ends of the fruiting
branches were terminated by cones, or catkins, somewhat
like the bodies so named in a fir, or a willow. These
conical fruits, however, did not produce seeds ; but the
leaves of which they were composed bore upon their
surfaces sacs full of spores or sporangia, such as those
one sees on the under surface of a bracken leaf. Now, it
is these sporangia of the Lepidodendroid plant Fleming
ites which were identified by Mr. Carruthers with the
free sporangia described by Professor Morris, which are
the same as the large sacs of which I have spoken. Arid,
more than this, there is no doubt that the small sacs
are the spores, which were originally contained in the
sporangia.

The living club-mosses are, for the most part, insigni
ficant and creeping herbs, which, superficially, very
closely resemble true mosses, and none of them reach
more than two or three feet in height. But, in their
essential structure, they very closely resemble the earliest

v.] ON THE FORMATION OF COAL. 97

Lepidodendroid trees of the coal : their stems and leaves
are similar ; so are their cones ; and no less like are the
sporangia and spores ; while even in their size, th,e spores
of the Lepidodendron and those of the existing Lycopo-
dium, or club-moss, very closely approach one another.

Thus, the singular conclusion is forced upon us, that
the greater and the smaller sacs of the "Better-Bed"
and other coals, in which the primitive structure is well
preserved, are simply the sporangia and spores of certain
plants, many of which were closely allied to the existing
club-mosses. And if, as I believe, it can be demonstrated
that ordinary coal is nothing but " saccular " coal which
has undergone a certain amount of that alteration which,
if continued, would convert it into anthracite ; then, the
conclusion is obvious, that the great mass of the coal
we burn is the result of the accumulation of the spores
and spore-cases of plants, other parts of which have
furnished the carbonized stems and the mineral char
coal, or have left their impressions on the surfaces of
the layer.

Of the multitudinous speculations which, at various
times, have been entertained respecting the origin and
mode of formation of coal, several appear to be nega
tived, and put out of court, by the structural facts the
significance of which I have endeavoured to explain.
These facts, for example, do not permit us to suppose
that coal is an accumulation of peaty matter, as some
have held.

Again, the late Professor Quekett was one of the first
observers who gave a correct description of what I have
termed the " saccular " structure of coal; and, rightly
perceiving that this structure wTas something quite dif
ferent from that of any known plant, he imagined that
it proceeded from some extinct vegetable organism which
was peculiarly abundant amongst the coal-forming plants.

98 CRITIQUES AND ADDRESSES. [r.

But this explanation is at once shown to be untenable
when the smaller and the larger sacs are proved to be
spores or sporangia.

Some, once more, have imagined that coal was of sub
marine origin ; and though the notion is amply and easily
refuted by other considerations, it may be worth while
to remark, that it is impossible to comprehend how a
mass of light and resinous spores should have reached
the bottom of the sea, or should have stopped in that
position if they had got there.

At the same time, it is proper to remark that I do
not presume to suggest that all coal must needs have
the same structure ; or that there may not be coals in
which the proportions of wood and spores, or spore-cases,
are very different from those which I have examined.
All I repeat is, that none of the coals which have come
under my notice have enabled me to observe such a dif
ference. But, according to Principal Dawson, who has
so sedulously examined the fossil remains of plants in
North America, it is otherwise with the vast accumula
tions of coal in that country.

"The true coal," says Dr. Dawson, "consists principally of the
flattened bark of Sigillarioid and other trees, intermixed with leaves of
Ferns and Cordaites, and other herbaceous debris, and with fragments
of decayed wood, constituting ' mineral charcoal/ all these materials
having manifestly alike grown and accumulated where we find them." *

When I had the pleasure of seeing Principal Dawson in
London last summer, I showed him my sections of coal,
and begged him to re-examine some of the American
coals on his return to Canada, with an eye to the presence
of spores and sporangia, such as I was able to show him
in our English and Scotch coals. He has been good
enough to do so ; and in a letter dated September 26th,
1870, he informs me that —

1 " Acadian Geology," 2nd edition, p. 138.

v.] ON THE FORMATION OF COAL. 90

" Indications of spore-cases are rare, except in certain coarse shaly
coals and portions of coals, and in the roofs of the seams. The most
marked case I have yet met with is the shaly coal referred to as con
taining Sporangites in my paper on the conditions of accumulation of
coal (Journal of the Geological Society, vol. xxii. pp. 115, 139, and
1G5). The purer coals certainly consist principally of cubical tissues
with some true woody matter, and the spore-cases, &c., are chiefly in
the coarse and shaly layers. This is my old doctrine in my two papers
in the Journal of the Geological Society, and I see nothing to modify it.
Your observations, however, make it probable that the frequent clear
spots in the cannels are spore-cases."

Dr. Dawson's results are the more remarkable, as the
numerous specimens of British coal, from various locali
ties, which I have examined, tell one tale as to the
predominance of the spore and sporangium element in
their composition ; and as it is exactly in the finest and
purest coals, such as the " Better-Bed " coal of Lowmoor,
that the spores and sporangia obviously constitute almost
the entire mass of the deposit.

Coal, such as that which has been described, is always
found in sheets, or " seams," varying from a fraction of
an inch to many feet in thickness, enclosed in the sub
stance of the earth at very various depths, between beds
of rock of different kinds. As a rule, every seam of
coal rests upon a thicker, or thinner, bed of clay, which
is known as " under-day." These alternations of beds
of coal, clay, and rock may be repeated many times,
and are known as the " coal-measures ; " and in some
regions, as in South Wales and in Nova Scotia, the
coal-measures attain a thickness of twelve or fourteen
thousand feet, and enclose eighty or a hundred seams
of coal, each with its under-day, and separated from
those above and below by beds of sandstone and shale.

The position of the beds which constitute the coal-
measures is infinitely diverse. Sometimes they are tilted
up vertically, sometimes they are horizontal, sometimes
curved into great basins ; sometimes they come to the

100 CRITIQUES AND ADDRESSES. [v.

surface, sometimes they are covered up by thousands
of feet of rock. But, whatever their present position,
there is abundant and conclusive evidence that every
under-clay was once a surface soil. Not only do car
bonized root-fibres frequently abound in these under-
clays ; but the stools of trees, the trunks of which are
broken off and confounded with the bed of coal, have
been repeatedly found passing into radiating roots, still
embedded in the under-clay. On many parts of the
coast of England, what are commonly known as " sub
marine forests" are to be seen at low water. They
consist, for the most part, of short stools of oak, beech,
and fir trees, still fixed by their long roots in the bed
of blue clay in which they originally grew. If one of
these submarine forest beds should be gradually depressed
and covered up by new deposits, it would present just
the same characters as an under-clay of the coal, if the
Sigillaria and Lepidodendron of the ancient world were
substituted for the oak, or the beech, of our own times.

In a tropical forest, at the present day, the trunks of
fallen trees, and the stools of such trees as may have
been broken by the violence of storms, remain entire for
but a short time. Contrary to what might be expected,
the dense wood of the tree decays, and suffers from the
ravages of insects, more swiftly than the bark. And the
traveller, setting his foot on a prostrate trunk, finds that
it is a mere shell, which breaks under his weight, and
lands his foot amidst the insects, or the reptiles, which
have sought food or refuge within.

The trees of the coal forests present parallel condi
tions. "When the fallen trunks which have entered into
the composition of the bed of coal are identifiable, they
are mere double shells of bark, flattened together in
consequence of the destruction of the woody core ; and
Sir Charles Lyell and Principal Dawson discovered, in the

v.] ON THE FORMATION OF COAL. 101

hollow stools of coal trees of Nova Scotia, the remains
of snails, millipedes, and salamander-like creatures, em
bedded in a deposit of a different character from that
which surrounded the exterior of the trees. Thus, in en
deavouring to comprehend the formation of a seam of
coal, we must try to picture to ourselves a thick forest,
formed for the most part of trees like gigantic club-
mosses, mares'-tails, and tree ferns, with here and there
some that had more resemblance to our existing yews
and fir-trees. We must suppose that, as the seasons
rolled by, the plants grew and developed their spores and
sseds ; that they shed these in enormous quantities, which
accumulated on the ground beneath ; and that, every now
and then, they added a dead frond or leaf; or, at longer
intervals, a rotten branch, or a dead trunk, to the mass.

A certain proportion of the spores and seeds no doubt
fulfilled their obvious function, and, carried by the wind
to unoccupied regions, extended the limits of the forest ;
many might be washed away by rain into streams, and
be lost ; but a large portion must have remained, to
accumulate like beech-mast, or acorns, beneath the trees
of a modern forest.

But, in this case, it may be asked, why does not our
English coal consist of stems and leaves to a much
greater extent than it does ? What is the reason of the
predominance of the spores and spore-cases in it ?

A ready answer to this question is afforded by the
study of a living full-grown club-moss. Shake it upon
a piece of paper, and it emits a cloud of fine dust, which
falls over the paper, and is the well-known Lycopodium
powder. Now this powder used to be, and I believe
still is, employed for two objects, which seem at first
sight to have no particular connection with one another.
It is, or was, employed in making lightning, and in
making pills. The coats of the spores contain so much

102 CRITIQUES AND ADDRESSES. [v.

resinous matter, that a pinch of Lycopodium powder,
thrown through the flame of a candle, burns with an in
stantaneous flash, which has long done duty for lightning
on the stage. And the same character makes it a capital
coating for pills ; for the resinous powder prevents the
drug from being wetted by the saliva, and thus bars
the nauseous flavour from the sensitive papillo3 of the
tongue.

But this resinous matter, which lies in the walls of
the spores and sporangia, is a substance not easily altered
by air and water, and hence tends to preserve these
bodies, just as the bituminized cerecloth preserves an
Egyptian mummy ; while, on the other hand, the merely
woody stem and leaves tend to rot, as fast as the wood
of the mummy's coffin has rotted. Thus the mixed
heap of spores, leaves, and stems in the coal-forest would
be persistently searched by the long- continued action of
air and rain ; the leaves and stems would gradually be
reduced to little but their carbon, or, in other words, to
the condition of mineral charcoal in which we find them ;
while the spores and sporangia remained as a compara
tively unaltered and compact residuum.

There is, indeed, tolerably clear evidence that the coal
must, under some circumstances, have been converted
into a substance hard enough to be rolled into pebbles,
while it yet lay at the surface of the earth ; for in some
seams of coal, the courses of rivulets, which must have
been living water, while the stratum in which their
remains are found was still at the surface, have been
observed to contain rolled pebbles of the very coal
through which the stream has cut its way.

The structural facts are such as to leave no alternative
but to adopt the view of the origin of such coal as I have
described, which has just been stated ; but, happily, the
process is not without analogy at the present clay. I

v.] 0^ THE FORMATION OF COAL. 103

possess a specimen of what is called " white coal" from
Australia. It is an inflammable material, burning with
a bright flame, and having much the consistence and

O ' O

appearance of oat-cake, which, I am informed, covers a
considerable area. It consists, almost entirely, of a
compacted mass of spores and spore-cases. But the fine
particles of blown sand which are scattered through it,
show that it must have accumulated, subaerially, upon
the surface of a soil covered by a forest of cryptogamous
plants, probably tree-ferns.

As regards this important point of the subaerial region
of coal, I am glad to find myself in entire accordance
with Principal Dawson, who bases his conclusions upon
other, but no less forcible, considerations. In a passage,
which is the continuation of that already cited, he
writes : —

" (3) The microscopical structure and chemical composition of the
beds of can n el coal and earthy bitumen, and of the more highly bitu
minous and carbonaceous shale, show them to have been of the nature
of the fine vegetable mud which accumulates in the ponds and shallow
lakes of modern swamps. When such fine vegetable sediment is mixed,
as is often the case, with clay, it becomes similar to the bituminous
limestone and calcareo-bituminous shales of the coal-measures, (4)
A few of the under-clays, which support beds of coal, are of the
nature of the vegetable mud above referred to ; but the greater part
are argillo-arenaceous in composition, with little vegetable matter, and
bleached by the drainage from them of water containing the products
of vegetable decay. They are, in short, loamy or clay soils, and must
have been sufficiently above water to admit of drainage. The absence
of sulphurets, and the occurrence of carbonate of iron in connection
with them, prove that, when they existed as soils, rain-water, and not
sea-water, percolated them. (5) The coal and the fossil forests present
many evidences of subaerial conditions. Most of the erect and
prostrate trees had become hollow shells of bark before they were
finally embedded, and their wood had broken into cubical pieces of
mineral charcoal. Land-snails and galley-worms (Xylobius) crept into
them, and they became dens, or traps, for reptiles. Large quantities
of mineral charcoal occur on the surface of all the large beds of coal.
None of these appearances could have been produced by subaqueous

104 CRITIQUES AND ADDRESSES. [v.

action. (6) Though the roots of the Sigillaria bear more resemblance
to the rhizomes of certain aquatic plants ; yet, structurally, they are
absolutely identical with the roots of Cycads, which the stems also
resemble. Further, the Sigillarice grew on the same soils which
supported Conifers, Lepidodendra, Cordaites, and Ferns — plants which
could not have grown in water. Again, with the exception perhaps of
some Pinnularioe and Asterophyllites, there is a remarkable absence
from the coal measures of any form of properly aquatic vegetation.
(7) The occurrence of marine, or brackish- water animals, in the roofs
of coal-beds, cr even in the coal itself, affords no evidence of sub
aqueous accumulation, since the same thing occurs in the case of
modern submarine forests. For these and other reasons, some of
which are more fully stated in the papers already referred to, while I
admit that the areas of coal accumulation were frequently submerged,
I must maintain that the true coal is a subaerial accumulation by
vegetable growth on soils, wet and swampy it is true, but not
submerged."

I am almost disposed to doubt whether it is necessary
to make the concession of " wet and swampy ; " other
wise, there is nothing that I know of to be said against
this excellent conspectus of the reasons for believing in
the subaerial origin of coal.

But the coal accumulated upon the area covered by
one of the great forests of the carboniferous epoch would,
in course of time, have been wasted away by the small,
but constant, wear and tear of rain and streams, had the
land which supported it remained at the same level, or
been gradually raised to a greater elevation. And, no
doubt, as much coal as now exists has been destroyed,
after its formation, in this way. What are now known
as coal districts owe their importance to the fact that
they were areas of slow depression, during a greater or
less portion of the carboniferous epoch ; and that, in
virtue of this circumstance, Mother Earth was enabled
to cover up her vegetable treasures, and preserve them
from destruction.

Wherever a coal-field now exists, there must formerly
have been free access for a great river, or for a shallow

v.J ON THE FORMATION OF COAL. 105

sea, bearing sediment in the shape of sand and mud.
When the coal-forest area became slowly depressed, the
waters must have spread over it, and have deposited
their burden upon the surface of the bed of coal, in the
form of layers, which are now converted into shale, or
sandstone. Then followed a period of rest, in which the
superincumbent shallow waters became completely filled
up, and finally replaced, by fine mud, which settled
down into a new under-clay, and furnished the soil for
a fresh forest growth. This flourished, and heaped up
its spores and wood into coal, until the stage of slow
depression recommenced. And, in some localities, as I
have mentioned, the process was repeated until the first
of the alternating beds had sunk to near three miles
below its original level at the surface of the earth.

In reflecting on the statement, thus briefly made, of
the main facts connected with the origin of the coal
formed during the carboniferous epoch, two or three
considerations suggest themselves.

In the first place, the great phantom of geological time
rises before the student of this, as of all other, fragments
of the history of our earth — springing irrepressibly out
of the facts, like the Djin from the jar which the fisher
man so incautiously opened ; and like the Djin again,
being vaporous, shifting, and indefinable, but unmis
takably gigantic. However modest the bases of one's
calculation may be, the minimum of time assignable to
the coal period remains something stupendous.

Principal Dawson is the last person likely to be guilty
of exaggeration in this matter, and it will be well to
consider what he has to say about it : —

** The rate of accumulation of coal was very slow. The climate of
the period, in the northern temperate zone, was of such a character
that the true conifers show rings of growth, not larger, nor much less
distinct, than those of many of their modern congeners. The Sigil-

106 CRITIQUES AND ADDEESSES. [v.

lance and Catamites were not, as often supposed, composed wholly, or
even principally, of lax and soft tissues, or necessarily short-lived.
The former had, it is true, a very thick inner bark ; but their dense
woody axis, their thick and nearly imperishable outer bark, and their
scanty and rigid foliage, would indicate no very rapid growth or decay.
In the case of the Siyillarice, the variations in the leaf-scars in
different parts of the trunk, the intercalation of new ridges at the
surface representing that of new woody wedges in the axis, the trans
verse marks left by the stages of upward growth, all indicate that
several years must have been required for the growth of stems of
moderate size. The enormous roots of these trees, and the condition
of the coal-swamps, must have exempted them from the danger of
being overthrown by violence. They probably fell in successive
generations from natural decay ; and making every allowance for other
materials, we may safely assert that every foot of thickness of pure
bituminous coal implies the quiet growth and fall of at least fifty
generations of Sigillarice, and therefore an undisturbed condition of
forest growth enduring through many centuries. Further, there is
evidence that an immense amount of loose parenchymatous tissue, and
even of wood, perished by decay, and we do not know to what extent
even the most durable tissues may have disappeared in this way ; so
that, in many coal-seams, we may have only a very small part of the
vegetable matter produced."

Undoubtedly the force of these reflections is not
diminished when the bituminous coal, as in Britain,
consists of accumulated spores and spore-cases, rather
than of stems. But, suppose we adopt Principal Dawson's
assumption, that one foot of coal represents fifty genera
tions of coal plants ; and, further, make the moderate
supposition that each generation of coal plants took ten
years to come to maturity — then, each foot-thickness of
coal represents five hundred years. The superimposed
beds of coal in one coal-field may amount to a thickness
of fifty or sixty feet, and therefore the coal alone, in that
field, represents 500 x 50 = 25,000 years. But the
actual coal is but an insignificant portion of the total
deposit, which, as has been seen, may amount to between
two and three miles of vertical thickness. Suppose it
be 12,000 feet — which is 240 times the thickness of the

actual coal — is there any reason \
it may not have taken 240 times as long to form ? I
know of none. But, in this case, the time which the
coal-field represents would be 25,000 x 240 —6,000,000
years. As affording a definite chronology, of course such
calculations as these are of no value ; but they have much
use in fixing one's attention upon a possible minimum.
A man may be puzzled if he is asked how long Rome
took a-building ; but he is proverbially safe if he affirms
it not to have been built in a day ; and our geological
calculations are all, at present, pretty much on that
footing.

A second consideration which the study of the coal
brings prominently before the mind of anyone who is
familiar with palaeontology is, that the coal Flora, viewed
in relation to the enormous period of time which it lasted,
and to the still vaster period which has elapsed since it
flourished, underwent little change while it endured, and
in its peculiar characters, differs strangely little from that
which at present exists.

The same species of plants are to be met with through
out the whole thickness of a coal-field, and the youngest
are not sensibly different from the oldest. But more than
this. Notwithstanding that the carboniferous period is
separated from us by more than the whole time repre
sented by the secondary and tertiary formations, the
great types of vegetation were as distinct then as now.
The structure of the modern club-moss furnishes a com
plete explanation of the fossil remains of the Lepido-
dendra, and the fronds of some of the ancient ferns are
hard to distinguish from existing ones. At the same
time, it must be remembered, that there is nowhere in
the world, at present, any forest which bears more than a
rough analogy with a coal-forest. The types may remain,
but the details of their form, their relative proportions,

108 CRITIQUES AND ADDRESSES. [y«

their associates, are all altered. And the tree-fern forest
of Tasmania, or New Zealand, gives one only a faint
and remote image of the vegetation of the ancient
world.

Once more, an invariably-recurring lesson of geological
history, at whatever point its study is taken up : the
lesson of the almost infinite slowness of the modification
of living forms. The lines of the pedigrees of living
things break off almost before they begin to converge.

Finally, yet another curious consideration. Let us
suppose that one of the stupid, salamander-like Labyrin-
thodonts, which pottered, with much belly and little leg,
like Falstaff in his old age, among the coal-forests, could
have had thinking power enough in his small brain to
reflect upon the showers of spores which kept on falling
through years and centuries, while perhaps not one in
ten million fulfilled its apparent purpose, and reproduced
the organism which gave it birth : surely he might have
been excused for moralizing upon the thoughtless and
wanton extravagance which Nature displayed in her
operations.

But we have the advantage over our shovel-headed
predecessor — or possibly ancestor — and can perceive that^
a certain vein of thrift runs through this apparent prodi
gality. Nature is never in a hurry, and seems to have
had always before her eyes the adage, " Keep a thing
long enough, and you will find a use for it." She has
kept her beds of coal many millions of years without
being able to find much use for them ; she has sent them
down beneath the sea, and the sea-beasts could make
nothing of them ; she has raised them up into dry land,
and laid the black veins bare, and still, for ages and ages,
there was no living thing on the face of the earth that
could see any sort of value in them ; and it was only the
other day, so to speak, that she turned a new creature

v.] ON THE .FORMATION OF COAL. 109

out of her workshop, who by degrees acquired sufficient
wits to make a fire, and then to discover that the black
rock would burn.

I suppose that nineteen hundred years ago, when
Julius Caesar was good enough to deal with Britain as
we have dealt with New Zealand, the primaeval Briton,
blue with cold and woad, may have known that the
strange black stone, of which he found lumps here and
there in his wanderings, would burn, and so help to warm
his body and cook his food. Saxori, Dane, and Norman
swarmed into the land. The English people grew into a
powerful nation, and Nature still waited for a full return
of the capital she had invested in the ancient club-
mosses. The eighteenth century arrived, and with ,it
James Watt. The brain of that man was the spore out
of which was developed the steam-engine, and all the
prodigious trees and branches of modern industry which
have grown out of this. But coal is as much an essential
condition of this growth and development as carbonic
acid is for that of a club-moss./ Wanting coal, we
could not have smelted the iron needed to make our
engines, nor have worked our engines when we had
got them. But take away the engines, and the great
cowns of Yorkshire and Lancashire vanish like a dream.
Manufactures give place to agriculture and pasture, and
not ten men can live where now ten thousand are amply
supported.

Thus, all this abundant wealth of money and of vivid
life is Nature's interest upon her investment in club-
mosses, and the like, so long ago. But what becomes of
the coal which is burnt in yielding this interest ? Heat
comes out of it, light comes out of it, and if we could
gather together all that goes up the chimney ; and all
that remains in the grate of a thoroughly-burnt coal-fire,
we should find ourselves in possession of a quantity of

110 CRITIQUES AND ADDRESSES. [v.

carbonic acid, water, ammonia, and mineral matters,
exactly equal in weight to the coal. But these are the
very matters with which Nature supplied the club-mosses
which made the coal. She is paid back principal and
interest at the same time ; and she straightway invests
the carbonic acid, the water, and the ammonia in new
forms of life, feeding with them th^e plants that now live.
Thrifty Nature ! Surely no prodigal, but most notable
of housekeepers !

VI.

ON COR/VL AND COEAL BEEFS.

THE marine productions which are commonly known by
the names of "Corals" and "Corallines/' were thought
by the ancients to be sea-weeds, which had the singular
property of becoming hard and solid, when they were
fished up from their native depths and came into con
tact with the air.

" Sic et curalium, quo primura contigit auras
Tempore durescit : mollis fuit lierba sub tmdis,"

says Ovid (Metam. xv.) ; and it was not until the seven
teenth century that Boccone was emboldened, by per
sonal experience of the facts, to declare that the holders
of this belief were no better than " idiots/' who had been
misled by the softness of the outer coat of the living red
coral to imagine that it was soft all through.

Messer Boccone's strong epithet is probably unde
served, as the notion he controverts, in all likelihood,
arose merely from the misinterpretation of the strictly
true statement which any coral fisherman would make
to a curious inquirer; namely, that the outside coat of
the red coral is quite soft when it is taken out of the sea.
At any rate, he did good service by eliminating this
much error from the current notions about coral. But

112 CRITIQUES AND ADDRESSES. [vi.

the belief that corals are plants remained, not only in the
popular, but in the scientific mind ; and it received what
appeared to be a striking confirmation from the researches
of Marsigli in 1706. For this naturalist, having the
opportunity of observing freshly-taken red coral, saw
that its branches were beset with what looked like deli
cate and beautiful flowers, each having eight petals. It
was true that these " flowers " could protrude and retract
themselves, but their motions were hardly more exten
sive, or more varied, than those of the leaves of the sen
sitive plant ; and therefore they could not be held to
militate against the conclusion so strongly suggested by
their form and their grouping upon the branches of a
tree-like structure.

Twenty years later, a pupil of Marsigli, the young
Marseilles physician, Peyssonel, conceived the desire to
study these singular sea-plants, and was sent by the
French Government on a mission to the Mediterranean
for that purpose. The pupil undertook the investigation
full of confidence in the ideas of his master, but being
able to see and think for himself, he soon discovered that
those ideas by no means altogether corresponded with
reality. In an essay entitled " Traite du Corail," which
was communicated to the French Academy of Science,
but which has never been published, Peyssonel writes :—

" Je fis fleurir le corail dans des vases pleins d'eau de mer, et j'obser-
vai que ce que nous croyons etre la fleur de cette pre"tendue plants
n'etait au vrai, qu'un insecte semblable a une petite Ortie ou Poulpe.
J'avais le plaisir de voir reran er les pattes, ou pieds, de cette Ortie, et
nyant mis le vase plein d'eau ou le corail etait a une douce chaleur
aupres du feu, tons les petites insectes s'epanouirent. . . . L'Ortie
sortie etend les pieds, et forme ce que M. de Marsigli et moi avions
pris pour les petales de la fleur. Le calice de cette pretendue fleur esfc
le corps meme de 1'animal avanc6 et sorti hors de la cellule." *

1 This extract from Peysonnel's manuscript is given by M. Lacazc Dutliiers in
his valuable " Histoire Naturcllc du Corail " (1866).

vi.J ON CORAL AND CORAL REEFS. 113

The comparison of the flowers of the coral to a " petite
ortie" or "little nettle" is perfectly just, but needs ex
planation. " Ortie de mer," or " sea-nettle," is, in fact,
tie French appellation for our " sea-anemone," a creature
with which everybody, since the great aquarium mania,
must have become familiar, even to the limits of bore
dom. In 1710, the great naturalist, Reaumur, had
written a memoir for the express purpose of demon
strating that these " orties " are animals ; and with this
important paper Peyssonel must necessarily have been
familiar. Therefore, when he declared the " flowers " of
the red coral to be little " orties," it was the same thing
as saying that they were animals of the same general
nature as sea-anemones. But to PeyssoneFs contempo
raries this was an extremely startling announcement.
It was hard to imagine the existence of such a thing as
an association of animals into a structure with stem and
branches altogether like a plant, and fixed to the soil as
a plant is fixed ; and the naturalists of that day preferred
not to imagine it. Even Reaumur could not bring him
self to accept the notion, and France being blessed with
Academicians, whose great function (as the late Bishop
Wilson and an eminent modern writer have so well
shown) is to cause sweetness and light to prevail, and to
prevent such unmannerly fellows as Peyssonel from blurt
ing out unedifying truths, they suppressed him ; and, as
aforesaid, his great work remained in manuscript, and
may at this day be consulted by the curious in that state,
in the " Bibliotheque du Museum d'Histoire Naturelle."
Peyssonel, who evidently was a person of savage and un-
tameable disposition, so far from appreciating the kind
ness of the Academicians in giving him time to reflect
upon the unreasonableness, not to say rudeness, of making
public statements in opposition to the views of some of
the most distinguished of their body, seems bitterly to

114 CRITIQUES AND ADDRESSES. [vi.

have resented the treatment he met with. For he sent
all further communications to the Eoyal Society of
London, which never had, and it is to be hoped never
will have, anything of an academic constitution ; and
finally took himself off to Guadaloupe, and became lost
to science altogether.

Fifteen or sixteen years after the date of Peyssonel's
suppressed paper, the Abbe Trembley published his won
derful researches upon the fresh- water Hydra. Bernard de
Jussieu and Guettard followed them up by like inquiries
upon the marine sea-anemones and corallines ; Reaumur,
convinced against his will of the entire justice of Peys-
sonel's views, adopted them, and made him a half-and-
half apology in the preface to the next published volume
of the " Memoires pour servir a THistoire des Insectes ; "
and, from this time forth, Peyssonel's doctrine that corals
are the work of animal organisms has been part of the
body of established scientific truth.

Peyssonel, in the extract from his memoir already
cited, compares the flower-like animal of the coral to a
"poulpe," which is the French form of the name "poly
pus," — " the many-footed," — which the ancient naturalists
gave to the soft-bodied cuttle-fishes, which, like the coral
animal, have eight arms, or tentacles, disposed around
a central mouth. Reaumur, admitting the analogy in
dicated by Peyssonel, gave the name of polypes, not only
to the sea-anemone, the coral animal, and the fresh-water
Hydra, but to what are now known as the Polyzoa, and
he termed the skeleton which they fabricate a "poly-
pier" or " polypidom."

The progress of discovery, since Reaumur's time, has
made us very completely acquainted with the structure
and habits of all these polypes. We know that, among
the sea-anemones and coral-forming animals, each polype
has a mouth leading to a stomach, which is open at its

vi.] ON CORAL AND CORAL REEFS. 115

inner end, and thus communicates freely with the general
cavity of the body ; that the tentacles placed round the
mouth are hollow, and that they perform the part of
arms in seizing and capturing prey. It is known that
many of these creatures are capable of being multiplied
by artificial division, the divided halves growing, after a
time, into complete and separate animals ; and that many
are able to perform a very similar process naturally, in
such a manner that one polype may, by repeated incom
plete divisions, give rise to a sort of sheet, or turf, formed
by innumerable connected, and yet independent, descen
dants. Or, what is still more common, a polype may
throw out buds, which are converted into polypes, or
branches bearing polypes, until a tree-like mass, some
times of very considerable size, is formed.

This is what happens in the case of the red coral of
commerce. A minute polype, fixed to the rocky bottom
of the deep sea, grows up into a branched trunk. The
end of every branch and twig is terminated by a polype ;
and all the polypes are connected together by a fleshy
substance, traversed by innumerable canals which place
each polype in communication with every other, and
carry nourishment to the substance of the supporting
stem. It is a sort of natural co-operative store, every
polype helping the whole, at the same time as it helps
itself. The interior of the stem, like that of the branches,
is solidified by the deposition of carbonate of lime in its
tissue, somewhat in the same fashion as our own bones
are formed of animal matter impregnated with lime salts ;
and it is this dense skeleton (usually turned deep red by
a peculiar colouring matter) cleared of the soft animal
investment, as the heart-wood of a tree might be stripped
of its bark, which is the red coral.

In the case of the red coral, the hard skeleton belongs
to the interior of the stem and branches only ; but. in

116 CRITIQUES AND ADDRESSES. [vi.

the commoner white corals, each polype has a complete
skeleton of its own. These polypes ate sometimes soli
tary, in which case the whole skeleton is represented by
a single cup, with partitions radiating from its centre
to its circumference. When the polypes formed by bud
ding or division remain associated, the polypidom is some
times made up of nothing but an aggregation of these
cups, while at other times the cups are at once separated
and held together, by an intermediate substance, which
represents the branches of the red coral. The red coral
polype again is a comparatively rare animal, inhabiting
a limited area, the skeleton of which has but a very
insignificant mass ; while the white corals are very com
mon, occur in almost all seas, and form skeletons which
are sometimes extremely massive.

With a very few exceptions, both the red and the
white coral polypes are, in their adult state, firmly ad
herent to the sea-bottom ; nor do their buds naturally
become detached and locomotive. But, in addition to
budding and division, these creatures possess the more
ordinary methods of multiplication ; and, at particular
seasons, they give rise to numerous eggs of minute size.
Within these eggs the young are formed, and they leave
the egg in a condition which has no sort of resemblance
to the perfect animal. It is, in fact, a minute oval body,
many hundred times smaller than the full-grown crea
ture, and it swims about with great activity by the help
of multitudes of little hair-like filaments, called cilia, with
which its body is covered. These cilia all lash the water
in one direction, and so drive the little body along as
if it were propelled by thousands of extremely minute
paddles. After enjoying its freedom for a longer or
shorter time, and being carried either by the force of its
own cilia, or by currents which bear it along, the embryo
coral settles down to the bottom, loses its cilia, and

vi.] ON CORAL AND CORAL REEFS. 117

"becomes fixed to the rock, gradually assuming the polype
form and growing up to the size of its parent. As the
infant polypes of the coral may retain this free and
active condition for many hours, or even days, and as a
tidal or other current in the sea may easily flow at the
speed of two or even more miles in an hour, it is clear
that the embryo must often be transported to very con
siderable distances from the parent. And it is easily
understood how a single polype, which may give rise
to hundreds, or perhaps thousands, of embryos, may, by
this process of partly active and partly passive migra
tion, cover an immense surface with its offspring. The
masses of coral which may be formed by the assemblages
of polypes which spring by budding, or by dividing,
from a single polype, occasionally attain very con
siderable dimensions. Such skeletons are sometimes great
plates, many feet long and several feet in thickness ; or
they may form huge half globes, like the brainstone
corals, or may reach the magnitude of stout shrubs, or
even small trees. There is reason to believe that such
masses as these take a long time to form, and hence that
the age a polype tree, or polype turf, may attain, may be
considerable. But, sooner or later, the coral polypes, like
all other things, die ; the soft flesh decays, while the
skeleton is left as a stony mass at the bottom of the sea,
where it retains its integrity for a longer or a shorter
time, according as its position affords it more or less pro
tection from the wear and tear of the waves.

The polypes which give rise to the white coral are
found, as has been said, in the seas of all parts of the
world ; but in the temperate and cold oceans they are
scattered and comparatively small in size, so that the
skeletons of those which die do not accumulate in any
considerable quantity. But it is otherwise in the greater
part of the ocean which lies in the warmer parts of the

118 CRITIQUES AND ADDEESSES. [vi.

world, comprised within a distance of about 1,800 miles
on each side of the equator. Within the zone thus
bounded, by far the greater part of the ocean is inhabited
by coral polypes, which not only form very strong and
large skeletons, but associate together into great masses,
like the thickets and the meadow turf, or, better still, the
accumulations of peat, to which plants give rise on the
dry land. These masses of stony matter, heaped up
beneath the waters of the ocean, become as dangerous
to mariners as so much ordinary rock, and to these,
as to common rock ridges, the seaman gives the name
of "reefs."

Such coral reefs cover many thousand square miles in
the Pacific and in the Indian Oceans. There is one reef,
or rather great series of reefs, called the Barrier Keef,
which stretches, almost continuously, for more than 1,100
miles off the east coast of Australia. Multitudes of the
island in the Pacific are either reefs themselves, or are
surrounded by reefs. The Red Sea is in many parts
almost a maze of such reefs ; arid they abound no less in
the West Indies, along the coast of Florida, and even as
far north as the Bahama Islands. But it is a very
remarkable circumstance that, within the area of what
we may call the " coral zone," there are no coral reefs
upon the west coast of America, nor upon the west coast,
of Africa ; and it is a general fact that the reefs are
interrupted, or absent, opposite the mouths of great
rivers. The causes of this apparent caprice in the distri
bution of coral reefs are not far to seek. The polypes
which fabricate them require for their vigorous growth a
temperature which must not fall below 68° Fahrenheit
all the year round, and this temperature is only to be
found within the distance on each side of the equator
which has been mentioned, or thereabouts. But even
within the coral zone this degree -of warmth is not every-

vi.] ON CORAL AND CORAL REEFS. 119

\vliere to be had. On the west coast of America, and on
the corresponding coast of Africa, currents of cold water
from the icy regions which surround the South Pole set
northward, and it appears to be due to their cooling
influence that the sea in these regions is free from the
reef builders. Again, the coral polypes cannot live in
water which is rendered brackish by floods from the land,
or which is perturbed by mud from the same source, and
hence it is that they cease to exist opposite the mouths
of rivers, which damage them in both these ways.

Such is the general distribution of the reef-building
corals, but there are some very interesting and singular
circumstances to be observed in the conformation of the
reefs, when we consider them individually. The reefs,
in fact, are of three different kinds ; some of them stretch
out from the shore, almost like a prolongation of the
"beach, covered only by shallow water, and in the case of
an island, surrounding it like a fringe of no considerable
breadth. These are termed " fringing reefs." Others
are separated by a channel which may attain a width of
many miles, and a depth of twenty or thirty fathoms or
more, from the nearest land ; and when this land is an
island, the reef surrounds it like a low wall, and the sea
between the reef and the land is, as it were, a moat
inside this wall. Such reefs as these are called ie en
circling " when they surround an island ; and " barrier "
reefs, when they stretch parallel with the coast of a con
tinent. In both these cases there is ordinary dry land
inside the reef, and separated from it only by a narrower
or a wider, a shallower or a deeper, space of sea, which
is called a " lagoon," or " inner passage." But there is a
third kind of reef, of very common occurrence in the
Pacific and Indian Oceans, which goes by the name of
an " Atoll." This is, to all intents and purposes, an
encircling reef, without anything to encircle ; or, in

120 CRITIQUES AND ADDEESSES. [vi.

other words, without an island in the middle of its
lagoon. The atoll has exactly the appearance of a vast,
irregularly oval, or circular, breakwater, enclosing smooth
water in its midst. The depth of the water in the lagoon
rarely exceeds twenty or thirty fathoms, but, outside
the reef, it deepens with great rapidity to 200 or 300
fathoms. The depth immediately outside the barrier, or
encircling, reefs, may also be very considerable ; but, at
the outer edge of a fringing reef, it does not amount
usually to more than twenty or twenty-five fathoms ; in
other words, from 120 to 150 feet.

Thus, if the water of the ocean could be suddenly
drained away, we should see the atolls rising from the
sea-bed like vast truncated cones, and resembling so
many volcanic craters, except that their sides would be
steeper than those of an ordinary volcano. In the case
of the encircling reefs, the cone, with the enclosed island,
would look like Vesuvius with Monte Nuovo within the
old crater of Somma ; while, finally, the island with a
fringing reef would have the appearance of an ordinary
hill, or mountain, girded by a vast parapet, within which
would lie a shallow moat. And -the dry bed of the
Pacific might afford grounds for an inhabitant of the
moon to speculate upon the extraordinary subterranean
activity to which these vast and numerous "craters"
bore witness !

"When the structure of a fringing reef is investigated,
the bottom of the lagoon is found to be covered with fine
whitish mud, which results from the breaking up of the
dead corals. Upon this muddy floor there lie, here and
there, growing corals, or occasionally great blocks of dead
coral, which have been torn by storms from the outer
edge of the reef, and washed into the lagoon. Shell-fish
and worms of various kinds abound ; and fish, some of
which prey upon the coral, sport in the deeper pools.

vi.j ON CORAL AND CORAL REEFS. 121

But the corals which are to be seen growing in the
shallow waters of the lagoon are of a different kind from
those which abound on the outer edge of the reef, and of
which the reef is built up. Close to the seaward edge of
the reef, over which, even in calm weather, a surf almost
always breaks, the coral rock is encrusted with a thick
coat of a singular vegetable organism, which contains a
great deal of lime — the so-called Nullipora. Beyond
this, in the part of the edge of the reef which is always
covered by the breaking waves, the living, true, reef-
polypes make their appearance ; and, in different forms,
coat the steep seaward face of the reef to a depth of 100
or even 150 feet. Beyond this depth the sounding-lead
rests, not upon the wall-like face of the reef, but on the
ordinary shelving sea-bottom. And the distance to
which a fringing reef extends from the land corresponds
with that at which the sea has a depth of twenty or five-
and-twenty fathoms.

If, as Ave have supposed, the sea could be suddenly
withdrawn from around an island provided with a
fringing reef, such as the Mauritius, the reef would
present the aspect of a terrace, its seaward face, 100 feet
or more high, blooming with the animal flowers of the
coral, while its surface would be hollowed out into a
shallow and irregular moat-like excavation.

The coral mud, which occupies the bottom of the
lagoon, and \vith which all the interstices of the coral
skeletons which accumulate to form the reef are filled up,
does not proceed from the washing action of the waves
alone ; innumerable fishes, and other creatures which
prey upon the coral, add a very important contribution
of finely-triturated calcareous matter ; and the corals and
mud becoming incorporated together, gradually harden
and give rise to a sort of limestone rock, which may vary
a good deal in texture. Sometimes it remains friable

122 CRITIQUES AND ADDME8SE& [vi.

and chalky, but, more often, the infiltration of water,
charged with carbonic acid, dissolves some of the cal
careous matter, and deposits it elsewhere in the inter
stices of the nascent rock, thus glueing and cementing
the particles together into a hard mass ; or it may even
dissolve the carbonate of lime more extensively, and
re-deposit it in a crystalline form. On the beach of the
lagoon, where the coral sand is washed into layers by
the action of the waves, its grains become thus fused to
gether into strata of a limestone, so hard that they ring
when struck with a hammer, and inclined at a gentle
angle} corresponding with that of the surface of the beach.
The hard parts of the many animals which live upon
the reef become imbedded in this coral limestone, so that
a block may be full of shells of bivalves and univalves,
or of sea-urchins ; and even sometimes encloses the
eggs of turtles in a state of petrifaction. The active and
vigorous growth of the reef goes on only at the seaward
margins, where the polypes are exposed to the wash of
the surf, and are thereby provided with an abundant
supply of air and of food. The interior portion of the
reef may be regarded as almost wholly an accumulation
of dead skeletons. Where a river comes down from the
land there is a break in the reef, for the reasons which
have been already mentioned.

The origin and mode of formation of a fringing reef, such
as that just described, are plain enough. The embryos of
the coral polypes have fixed themselves upon the sub
merged shore of the island, as far out as they could live,
namely, to a depth of twenty or twenty-five fathoms. One
generation has succeeded another, building itself up upon
the dead skeletons of its predecessor. The mass has been
consolidated by the infiltration of coral mud, and har
dened by partial solution and rcdcposition, until a great
rampart of coral rock 100 or 150 feet high on its sea-

vi. j ON CORAL AND CORAL EEEFS. 123

ward face has been formed all round the island, with
only such gaps as result from the outflow of rivers, in
the place of sally-ports.

The structure of the rocky accumulation in the en
circling reefs and in the atolls is essentially the same as
in the fringing reef. But, in addition to the differences
of depth inside and out, they present some other pecu
liarities. These reefs, and especially the atolls, are
usually interrupted at one part of their circumference,
and this part is always situated on the leeward side
of the reef, or that which is the more sheltered side.
Now, as all these reefs are situated within the region in
which the trade-winds prevail, it follows that, on the
north side of the equator, where the trade- wind is a
north-easterly wind, the opening of the reef is on the
south-west side: while in the southern hemisphere, where
the trade- winds blow from the south-east, the opening
lies to the north-west. The curious practical result
follows from this structure, that the lagoons of these
reefs really form admirable harbours, if a ship can only
get inside them. But the main difference between the
encircling reefs and the atolls, on the one hand, and
the fringing reefs on the other, lies in the fact of the
much greater depth of water on the seaward faces of the
former. As a consequence of this fact, the whole of
this face is not, as it is in the case of the fringing reef,
covered with living coral polypes. For, as we have
seen, these polypes cannot live at a greater depth than
about twenty-five fathoms ; and actual observation has
shown that while, down to this depth, the sounding-lead
will bring up branches of live coral from the outer
wall of such a reef, at a greater depth it fetches to
the surface nothing but dead coral and coral sand.

O

We must, therefore, picture to ourselves an atoll, or an
encircling reef, as fringed for 100 feet, or more, from its

124 CRITIQUES AND ADDRESSES. [vi.

summit, with coral polypes busily engaged in fabricating
coral ; while, below this comparatively narrow belt, its
surface is a bare and smooth expanse of coral sand,
supported upon and within a core of coral limestone.
Thus, if the bed of the Pacific were suddenly laid bare,
as was just now supposed, the appearance of the reef-
mountains would be exactly the reverse of that presented
by many high mountains on land. For these are white
with snow at the top, while their bases are clothed with
an abundant and gaudily-coloured vegetation. But the
coral cones would look grey and barren below, while
their summits would be gay with a richly-coloured
parterre of flower-like coral polypes.

The practical difficulties of sounding upon, and of
bringing up portions of, the seaward face of an atoll or
of an encircling reef, are so great, in consequence of the
constant and dangerous swell which sets towards it, that
no exact information concerning the depth to which the
reefs are composed of coral has yet been obtained. There
is no reason to doubt, however, that the reef-cone has the
same structure from its summit to its base, and that its
sea- wall is throughout mainly composed of dead coral.

And now arises a serious difficulty. If the coral
polypes cannot live at a greater depth than 100 or 150
feet, how can they have built up the base of the reef-
cone, which may be 2,000 feet, or more, below the
surface of the sea I

In order to get over this objection, it was at one time
supposed that the reef-building polypes had settled upon
the summits of a chain of submarine mountains. But
what is there in physical geography to justify the
assumption of the existence of a chain of mountains
stretching for 1,000 miles or more, and so nearly of the
same height, that none should rise above the level of the
sea, nor fall 150 feet below that level?

v.i.] ON CORAL AND CORAL REEFS. 125

How again, on this hypothesis, are atolls to be
accounted for, unless, as some have done, we take refuge
i:i the wild supposition that every atoll corresponds with
the crater of a submarine volcano ? And what explana
tion does it afford of the fact that, in some parts of the
ocean, only atolls and encircling reefs occur, while others
present none but fringing reefs ?

These and other puzzling facts remained insoluble
until the publication, in the year 1840, of Mr. Darwin's
famous work on coral reefs ; in which a key was given
1o all the difficult yroblems connected with the subject,
and every difficulty was shown to be capable of solution
by deductive reasoning from a happy combination of
certain well-established geological and biological truths.
Mr. Darwin, in fact, showed, that so long as the level of
the sea remains unaltered in any area in which coral
reefs are being formed, or if the level of the sea relatively
to that of the land is falling, the only reefs which -can
be formed are fringing reefs. While if, on the contrary,
the level of the sea is rising relatively to that of the
land, at a rate not faster than that at which the upward
growth of the coral can keep pace with it, the reef will
gradually pass from the condition of a fringing, into that
of an encircling or barrier reef. And, finally, that if the
relative level of the sea rise so much that the encircled
land is completely submerged, the reef must necessarily
pass into the condition of an atoll.

For, suppose the relative level of the sea to remain
stationary, after a fringing reef has reached that distance
from the land at which the depth of water amounts to
150 feet. Then the reef cannot extend seaward by the
migration of coral germs, because these coral germs
would find the bottom of the sea to be too deep for
them to live in. And the only manner in which the
reef could extend outwards, would be by the gradual

126 CRITIQUES AND ADDRESSES. [vi

accumulation, at the foot of its seaward face, of a talus
of coral fragments torn off by the violence of the waves,
which talus might, in course of time, become high
enough to bring its upper surface within the limits of
coral growth, and in that manner provide a sort of
factitious sea-bottom upon which the coral embryos
might perch. If, on the other hand, the level of the
sea were slowly and gradually lowered, it is clear that
the parts of its bottom originally beyond the limit of
coral growth, would gradually be brought within the
required distance of the surface, and thus the reef might
be indefinitely extended. But this process would give
rise neither to an encircling reef nor to an atoll, but to a
broad belt of upheaved coral rock, increasing the dimen
sions of the dry land, and continuous seawards with the
fresh fringing reef.

Suppose, however, that the sea-level rose instead of
falling, at the same slow and gradual rate at which we
know it to be rising in some parts of the world — not
more, in fact, than a few inches, or, at most, a foot or
two, in a hundred years, Then, while the reef would be
unable to extend itself seaward, the sea-bottom outside
it being gradually more and more removed from the
depth at which the life of the coral polypes is possible,
it would be able to grow upwards as fast as the sea rose.
But the growth would take place almost exclusively
around the circumference of the reef, this being the only
region in which the coral polypes would find the con
ditions favourable for their existence. The bottom of
the lagoon would be raised, in the main, only by the
coral debris and coral mud, formed in the manner
already described ; consequently, the margins of the reef
would rise faster than the bottom, or, in other words,
the lagoon would constantly become deeper. And, at
the same time, it would gradually increase in breadth ;

vi.] ON CORAL AND CORAL REEFS. 127

as the rising sea, covering more and more of the land,
would occupy a wider space between the edge of the
reef and what remained of the land. Thus the rising
sea would eventually convert a large island with a
fringing reef, into a small island surrounded by an en
circling reef. And it will be obvious that when the
rising of the sea has gone so far as completely to cover
the highest points of the island, the reef will have
passed into the condition of an atoll.

But how is it possible that the relative level of the
land and sea should be altered to this extent ? Clearly,
only in one of two ways : either the sea must have risen
over those areas which are now covered by atolls and
encircling reefs ; or, the land upon which the sea rests
must have been depressed to a corresponding extent.

If the sea has risen, its rise must have taken place
over the whole world simultaneously, and it must have
risen to the same height over all parts of the coral zone.
Grounds have been shown for the belief that the general
level of the sea may have been different at different
times ; it has been suggested, for example, that the ac
cumulation of ice about the poles during one of the cold
periods of the earth's history, necessarily implies a dimi
nution in the volume of the sea proportioned to the
amount of its water thus permanently locked up in the
Arctic and Antarctic ice-cellars ; while, in the warm
periods, the greater or less disappearance of the polar
ice-cap implies a corresponding addition of water to the
ocean. And no dcubt this reasoning must be admitted
to be sound in principle ; though it is very hard to say
what practical effect the additions and subtractions thus
made have had on the level of the ocean ; inasmuch as
such additions and subtractions might be either inten
sified or nullified, by contemporaneous changes in the
level of the land. And no one has yet shown that any

128 CRITIQUES AND ADDRESSES. [yr.

such great melting of polar ice, and consequent raising
of the level of the water of the ocean, has taken place
since the existing atolls began to be formed.

In the absence of any evidence that the sea has ever
risen to the extent required to give rise to the encircling
reefs and the atolls, Mr. Darwin adopted the opposite
hypothesis, viz. that the land has undergone extensive
and slow depression in those localities in which these
structures exist.

It seems, at first, a startling paradox, to suppose that
the land is less fixed than the sea ; but that such is the
case is the uniform testimony of geology. Beds of
sandstone or limestone, thousands of feet thick, and all
full of marine remains, occur in various parts of the
earth's surface, and prove, beyond a doubt, that when
these beds were formed, that portion of the sea-bottom
which they then occupied underwent a slow and gradual
depression to a distance which cannot have been less
than the thickness of those beds, and may have been
very much greater. In supposing, therefore, that the
great areas of the Pacific and of the Indian Ocean, over
which atolls and encircling reefs are found scattered,
have undergone a depression of some hundreds, or, it
may be, thousands of feet, Mr. Darwin made a supposi
tion which had nothing forced or improbable, but was
entirely in accordance with what we know to have
taken place over similarly extensive areas, in other
periods of the world's history. But Mr. Darwin sub-
iected his hypothesis to an ingenious indirect test. If
his view be correct, it is clear that neither atolls, nor
encircling reefs, should be found in those portions of the
ocean in which we have reason to believe, on indepen
dent grounds, that the sea-bottom has long been either
stationary, or slowly rising. Now it is known that, as
a general rule, the level of the land is either stationary,

M.j ON CORAL AND CORAL REEFS. 129

or is undergoing a slow upheaval, in the neighbourhood
of active volcanoes; and, therefore, neither atolls nor
encircling reefs ought to be found in regions in which
volcanoes are numerous and active. And this turns out
to be the case. Appended to Mr. Darwin's great work
on coral reefs, there is a map on which atolls and en
circling reefs are indicated by one colour, fringing reefs
by another, and active volcanoes by a third. And it is
at once obvious that the lines of active volcanoes lie
around the margins of the areas occupied by the atolls
and the encircling reefs. It is exactly as if the up
heaving volcanic agencies had lifted up the edges of
these great areas, while their centres had undergone a
corresponding depression. An atoll area may, in short,
be pictured as a kind of basin, the margins of which
have been pushed up by the subterranean forces, to
which the craters of the volcanoes have, at intervals,
given vent.

Thus we must imagine the area of the Pacific now
covered by the Polynesian Archipelago, as having been,
at some former time, occupied by large islands, or, may
be, by a great continent, with the ordinarily diversified
surface of plain, and hill, and mountain chain. The
shores of this great land were doubtless fringed by coral
reefs ; and, as it slowly underwent depression, the hilly
regions, converted into islands, became, at first, sur
rounded by fringing reefs, and then, as depression went
on, these became converted into encircling reefs, and
these, finally, into atolls, until a maze of reefs and
coral-girdled islets took the place of the original land
masses.

Thus the atolls and the encircling reefs furnish us
with clear, though indirect, evidence of changes in the
physical geography of large parts of the earth's surface ;
and even, as my lamented friend, the late Professor

130 CRITIQUES AND ADDRESSES. [vi.

Jukes, has suggested, give us indications of the manner
in which some of the most puzzling facts connected
with the distribution of animals have been brought

O

about. For example, Australia and New Guinea are
separated by Torres Straits, a broad belt of sea 100 or
120 miles wide. Nevertheless, there is in many respects
a curious resemblance between the land animals which
inhabit New Guinea and the land animals which
inhabit Australia. But, at the same time, the marine
shell-fish which are found in the shallow waters of
the shores of New Guinea, are quite different from
those which are met with upon the coasts of Australia.
Now, the eastern end of Torres Straits is full of atolls,
which, in fact, form the northern termination of the
Great Barrier Eeef which skirts the eastern coast of
Australia. It follows, therefore, that the eastern end
of Torres Straits is an area of depression, and it is
very possible, and on many grounds highly probable,
that, in former times, Australia and New Guinea were
directly connected together, and that Torres Straits did
not exist. If this were the case, the existence of casso
waries and of marsupial quadrupeds, both in New Guinea
and in Australia, becomes intelligible ; while the differ
ence between the littoral molluscs of the north and the
south shores of Torres Straits is readily explained by
the great probability that, when the depression in
question took place, and what was, at first, an arm of
the sea became converted into a strait separating Aus
tralia from New Guinea, the northern shore of this new
sea became tenanted with marine animals from the north,
while the southern shore was peopled by immigrants
from the already existing marine Australian fauna.

Inasmuch as the growth of the reef depends upon
that of successive generations of coral polypes, and
as each generation takes a certain time to grow to its

vi.] ON CORAL AND CORAL REEFS. 131

full size, and can only separate its calcareous skeleton
from the water in which it lives at a certain rate, it is
clear that the reefs are records not only of changes in
physical geography, but of the lapse of time. It is by
no means easy, however, to estimate the exact value of
reef-chronology, and the attempts which have been made
to determine the rate at which a reef grows vertically,
have yielded anything but precise results. A cautious
writer, Mr. Dana, whose extensive study of corals and
coral reefs makes him an eminently competent judge,
states his conclusion in the following terms : —

" The rate of growth of the common branching madrepore is not
over one and a half inches a year. As the branches are open, this
would not be equivalent to more than half an inch in height of solid
coral for the whole surface covered by the madrepore ; and, as they are
a1 so porous, to not over three-eighths of an inch of solid limestone.
But a coral plantation has large bare patches without corals, and the
coral sands are widely distributed by currents, part of them to depths
over one hundred feet where there are no living corals ; not more than
one-sixth of the surface of a reef region is, in fact, covered with
growing species. This reduces the three-eighths to one-sixteenth.
Shells and other organic relics may contribute one-fourth as much as
corals. At the outside, the average upward increase of the whole
reef-ground per year would not exceed one-eighth of an inch.

" Now some reefs are at least two thousand feet thick, which at
cue-eighth of an inch a year, corresponds to one hundred and ninety-
two thousand years."1

Halve, or quarter, this estimate if you will, in order
to be certain of erring upon the right side, and still there
remains a prodigious period during which the ancestors
of the existing coral polypes have been undisturbedly ab
work ; and during which, therefore, the climatal condi
tions over the coral area must have been much what
they are now.

And all this lapse of time has occurred within the
most recent period of the history of the earth. The

1 Dana, " Manual of Geology," p. 591.
V

132 CRITIQUES AND ADDRESSES. [vi.

remains of reefs formed by coral polypes of different
kinds from those which exist now, enter largely into the
composition of the limestones of the Jurassic period ;
and still more widely different coral polypes have contri
buted their quota to the vast thickness of the carboni
ferous and Devonian strata. Then as regards the latter
group of rocks in America, the high authority already
quoted tells us : —

" The Upper Helderberg period is eminently the coral reef period
of the palaeozoic ages. Many of the rocks abound in coral, and are
as truly coral reefs as the modern reefs of the Pacific. The corals are
sometimes standing on the rocks in the position they had when
growing : others are lying in fragments, as they were broken and
heaped by the -waves; and others were reduced to a compact limestone
by the finer trituratiou before consolidation into rock. This compact
variety is the most common kind among the coral reef rocks of the
present seas ; and it often contains but few distinct fossils, although
formed in water that abounded in life. At the fall of the Ohio, near
Louisville, there is a magnificent display of the old reef. IJemi-
spherical Favosites, five or six feet in diameter, lie there nearly
as perfect as when they were covered by their flower-like polypes :
and besides these, there are various branching corals, and a profusion
of Cyathophyllia, or cup-corals." 1

Thus, in all the great periods of the earth's history of
which we know anything, a part of the then living
matter has had the form of polypes, competent to sepa
rate from the water of the sea the carbonate of lime
necessary for their own skeletons. Grain by grain, and
particle by particle, they have built up vast masses of
rock, the thickness of which is measured by hundreds of
feet, and their area by thousands of square miles. The
slow oscillations of the crust of the earth, producing great
changes in the distribution of land and water, have often
obliged the living matter of the coral-builders to shift
the locality of its operations ; and, by variation and
adaptation to these modifications of condition, its forma

1 Dana, " Manual of Geology," p. 272.

vr.] ON CORAL AND CORAL REEFS. 133

Lave as often changed. The work it has done in the
past is, for the most part, swept away, but fragments
remain ; and, if there were no other evidence, suffice to
prove the general constancy of the operations of Nature
in this world, through periods of almost inconceivable
duration.

VII.

ON THE METHODS AND RESULTS OF
ETHNOLOGY.

ETHNOLOGY is the science which determines the dis
tinctive characters of the persistent modifications of
mankind ; which ascertains the distribution of those
modifications in present and past times, and seeks to
discover the causes, or conditions of existence, both
of the modifications and of their distribution. I say
" persistent " modifications, because, unless incidentally,
ethnology has nothing to do with chance and transitory
peculiarities of human structure. And I speak of
" persistent modifications " or " stocks " rather than
of "varieties," or "races," or "species/3 because each of
these last well-known terms implies, on the part of its
employer, a preconceived opinion touching one of those
problems, the solution of which is the ultimate object
of the science ; and in regard to which, therefore,
ethnologists are especially bound to keep their minds
open and their judgments freely balanced.

Ethnology, as thus defined, is a branch of ANTHRO
POLOGY, the great science which unravels the complexities
of human structure ; traces out the relations of man to
other animals ; studies all that is especially human in the
mode in which man's complex functions are performed;

VIL] METHODS AND RESULTS OF ETHNOLOGY. 135

and searches after the conditions which have determined
his presence in the world. And anthropology is a section
of ZOOLOGY, which again is the animal half of BIOLOGY
— the science of life and living things.

Such is the position of ethnology, such are the objects
of the ethnologist. The paths or methods, by following
which he may hope to reach his goal, are diverse. He may
work at man from the point of view of the pure zoologist,
and investigate the anatomical and physiological pecu
liarities of Negroes, Australians, or Mongolians, just as
he would inquire into those of pointers, terriers, and
turnspits, — " persistent modifications " of man's almost
universal companion. Or he may seek aid from researches
into the most human manifestation of humanity —
Language ; and assuming that what is true of speech is
true of the speaker — a hypothesis as questionable in
science as it is in ordinary life — he may apply to man
kind themselves the conclusions drawn from a searching
analysis of their words and grammatical forms.

Or, the ethnologist may turn to the study of the
practical life of men ; and relying upon the inherent
conservatism and small inventiveness of untutored man
kind, he may hope to discover in manners and customs,
or in weapons, dwellings, and other handiwork, a clue to
the origin of the resemblances and differences of nations.
Or, he may resort to that kind of evidence which is
yielded by History proper, and consists of the beliefs of
men concerning past events, embodied in traditional, or
in written, testimony. Or, when that thread breaks,
Archaeology, which is the interpretation of the unrecorded
remains of man's works, belonging to the epoch since the
world has reached its present condition, may still guide
him. And, when even the dim light of archaeology
fades, there yet remains Palaeontology, which, in these
latter years, has brought to daylight once more the

136 CRITIQUES AND ADDRESSES. [vn.

exuvia of ancient populations, whose world was not our
world, who have been buried in river beds immemorially
dry, or carried by the rush of waters into caves, inac
cessible to inundation since the dawn of tradition.

Along each, or all, of these paths the ethnologist may
press towards his goal ; but they are not equally straight,
or sure, or easy to tread. The way of palaeontology has
but just been laid open to us. Archaeological and histo
rical investigations are of great value for all those peoples
whose ancient state has differed widely from their pre
sent condition, and who have the good or evil fortune
to possess a history. But on taking a broad survey of
the world, it is astonishing how few nations present
either condition. Eespecting five-sixths of the persistent
modifications of mankind, history and archaeology are
absolutely silent. For half the rest, they might as well be
silent for anything that is to be made of their testimony.
And, finally, when the question arises as to what was the
condition of mankind more than a paltry two or three
thousand years ago, history and archaeology are, for the
most part, mere dumb dogs. What light does either of
these branches of knowledge throw on the past of the
man of the New World, if we except the Central Ameri
cans and the Peruvians ; on that of the Africans, save
those of the valley of the Nile and a fringe of the Medi
terranean ; on that of all the Polynesian, Australian,
and central Asiatic peoples, the former of whom probably,
and the last certainly, were, at the dawn of history,
substantially what they are now ? While thankfully
accepting what history has to give him, therefore, the
ethnologist must not look for too much from her.

Is more to be expected from inquiries into the customs
and handicrafts of men ? It is to be feared not. In
reasoning from identity of custom to identity of stock
the difficulty always obtrudes itself, that the minds of

vii.] METHODS AND RESULTS OF ETHNOLOGY. 137

men being everywhere similar, differing in quality and
quantity but not in kind of faculty, like circumstances
must tend to produce like contrivances ; at any rate, so
long as the need to be met and conquered is of a very
simple kind. That two nations use calabashes or shells
for drinking- vessels, or that they employ spears, or clubs,
or swords and axes of stone and metal as wea.pons and
implements, cannot be regarded as evidence that these
two nations had a common origin, or even that inter
communication ever took place between them ; seeing
that the convenience of using calabashes or shells for
such purposes, and the advantage of poking an enemy
with a sharp stick, or hitting him with a heavy one,
must be early forced by nature upon the mind of even
the stupidest savage. And when he had found out the
use of a stick, he would need no prompting to discover the
value of a chipped or wetted stone, or an angular piece
of native metal, for the same object. On the other hand,
it; may be doubted whether the chances are not greatly
against independent peoples arriving at the manufacture
of a boomerang, or of a bow ; which last, if one comes to
think of it, is a rather complicated apparatus ; and the
tracing of the distribution of inventions as complex as
these, and of such strange customs as betel-chewing and
tobacco-smoking, may afford valuable ethnological hints.

Since the time of Leibnitz, and guided by such men
as Humboldt, Abel Eemusat, and Klaproth, Philology
has taken far higher ground. Thus Prichard affirms that
"the history of nations, termed Ethnology, must be
mainly founded on the relations of their languages."

An eminent living philologer, August Schleicher, in a
recent essay, puts forward the claims of his science still
more forcibly : —

" If, however, language is the human KO.T l£o-xyv, the suggestion arises
whether it should not form the basis of any scientific systematic

13S CRITIQUES AND ADDRESSES. [vn.

arrangement of mankind ; whether the foundation of the natural
classification of the genus Homo has not been discovered in it.

" How little constant are cranial peculiarities and other so-called
race characters ! Language, on the other hand, is always a perfectly
constant diagnostic. A German may occasionally compete in hair and
prognathism with a negro, but a negro language will never be his
mother tongue. Of how little importance for mankind the so-called
race characters are, is shown by the fact that speakers of languages
belonging to one and the same linguistic family may exhibit the
peculiarities of various races. Thus the settled Osmanli Turk exhibits
Caucasian characters, while other so-called Tartaric Turks exemplify
the Mongol type. On the other hand, the Magyar and the Basque do not
depart in any essential physical peculiarity from the Indo-Germans,
whilst the Magyar, Basque, and Indo-Gerinanic tongues are widely
different. Apart from their inconstancy, again, the so-called race
characters can hardly yield a scientifically natural system. Languages,
on the otner hand, readily fall into a natural arrangement, like that
of which other vital products are susceptible, especially when viewed
from their morphological side. . . . The externally visible structure
of the cerebral and facial skeletons, and of the body generally, is less
important than that no less material but infinitely more delicate
corporeal structure, the function of which is speech. I conceive,
therefore, that the natural classification of languages is also the natural
classification of mankind. With language, moreover, all the higher
manifestations of man's vital activity are closely interwoven, so that
these receive due recognition in and by that of speech." 1

Without the least desire to depreciate the value of
philology as an adjuvant to ethnology, I must venture to
doubt, with Rudolphi, Desmoulins, Crawfurd, and others,
its title to the leading position claimed for it by the
writers whom I have just quoted. On the contrary, it
seems to me obvious that, though, in the absence of any
evidence to the contrary, unity of languages may afford
a certain presumption in favour of the unity of stock
of the peoples speaking those languages, it cannot be held
to prove that unity of stock, unless philologers are prepared
to demonstrate, that no nation can lose its lano;uao;e and

7 O O

1 August Sclileicher. Uebcr die Bedeutung dcr Spraclic fur die Natur-
gcsclnckte des Mensclien, pp. 16 — 18. Weimar, 1858.

VIL] METHODS AND RESULTS OF ETHNOLOGY. 139

acquire that of a distinct nation, without a change of blood
corresponding with the change of language. Desmoulins
long ago put this argument exceedingly well :—

" Let us imagine the recurrence of one of those slow, or sudden,
political revolutions, or say of those secular changes which among
different people and at different epochs have annihilated historical
monuments and even extinguished tradition. In that case, the evidence,
now so clear, that the negroes of Hayti were slaves imported by a
French colony, who, by the very effect of the subordination involved
in slavery, lost their own diverse languages and adopted that of their
masters, would vanish. And metaphysical philosophers, observing the
identity of Haytian French with that spoken on the shores of the
Seine and the Loire, would argue that the men of St. Domingo with
woolly heads, black and oily skins, small calves, and slightly bent
knees, are of the same race, descended from the same parental stock,
as the Frenchmen with silky brown, chestnut, or fair hair, and white
skins. For they would say, their languages are more similar than
French is to German or Spanish."1

It must not be imagined that the case put by Desmoulins
is a merely hypothetical one. Events precisely similar
to the transport of a body of Africans to the "West India
Islands, indeed, cannot have happened among uncivilized
races, but similar results have followed the importation
of bodies of conquerors among an enslaved people over
and over again. There is hardly a country in Europe in
which two or more nations speaking widely different
tongues have not become intermixed ; and there is hardly
a language of Europe of which we have any right to
think that its structure affords a just indication of the
amount of that intermixture.

As Dr. Latham has well said : —

"It is certain that the language of England is of Anglo-Saxon
origin, and that the remains of the original Keltic are unimportant.
It is by no means so certain that the blood of Englishmen is equally
Germanic. A vast amount of Kelticism, not found in our tongue, very
probably exists in our pedigrees. The ethnology of France is still
more complicated. Many writers make the Parisian a Roman on the

1 Desmoulins, " Histoire Naturelle des Races Surnames," p. 345. 1826.

140 CRITIQUES AND ADDRESSES. [vn.

strength of. . his . language ; whilst others make him a Kelt on the
strength of certain moral characteristics, combined with the previous
Kelticism of the original Gauls. Spanish and Portuguese, as languages,
are derivations from the Latin ; Spain and Portugal, as countries, are
Iberic, Latin, Gothic, and Arab, in different proportions. Italian is
modern Latin all the world over ; yet surely there must be much
Keltic blood in Lombardy, and much Etruscan intermixture in
Tuscany.

" In the ninth century every man between the Elbe and the Niemen
spoke some Slavonic dialect ; they now nearly all speak German.
Surely the blood is less exclusively Gothic than the speech."1

In other words, what philologer, if he had nothing
but the vocabulary and grammar of the French and
English languages to guide him, would dream of the
real causes of the unlikeness of a Norman to a Pro-
ven§al, of an Orcadian to a Cornishman ? How readily
might he be led to suppose that the different climatal
conditions to which these speakers of one tongue have
so long been exposed, have caused their physical dif
ferences ; and how little would he suspect that these are
due (as we happen to know they are) to wide differences
of blood.

Few take duly into account the evidence which exists
as to the ease with which unlettered savages gain or
lose a language. Captain Erskine, in his interesting
" Journal of a Cruise among the Islands of the Western
Pacific/' especially remarks upon the "avidity with
which the inhabitants of the polyglot islands of Melanesia,
from New Caledonia to the Solomon Islands, adopt the
improvements of a more perfect language than their
own, which different causes and accidental communica
tion still continue to bring to them ; " and he adds that
" among the Melanesian islands scarcely one was found
by us which did not possess, in some cases still im
perfectly, the decimal system of numeration in addition
to their own, in which they reckon only to five."
1 Latham, "Man andliis Migrations," p. 171.

vii.] METHODS AND RESULTS OF

Yet how much philological reasoning
affinity or diversity of two distinct peoples has been
based on the mere comparison of numerals !

But the most instructive example of the fallacy
which may attach to merely philological reasonings, is
that afforded by the Feejeans, who are, physically, so
intimately connected with the adjacent Negritos of New
Caledonia, &c., that no one can doubt to what stock
they belong, and who yet, in the form and substance of
their language, are Polynesian. The case is as remark
able as if the Canary Islands should have been found to
be inhabited by negroes speaking Arabic, or some other
clearly Semitic dialect, as their mother tongue. As it
happens, the physical peculiarities of the Feejeans are
so striking, and the conditions under which they live
ore so similar to those of the Polynesians, that no one
has ventured to suggest that they are merely modified
Polynesians — a suggestion which could otherwise cer
tainly have been made. But if languages may be thus
transferred from one stock to another, without any
corresponding intermixture of blood, what ethnological
value has philology ? — what security does unity of
language afford us that the speakers of that language
may not have sprung from two, or three, or a dozen,
<] istinct sources ?

Thus we come, at last, to the purely zoological method,
from which it is not unnatural to expect more than
from any other, seeing that, after all, the problems of
ethnology are simply those which are presented to the
zoologist by every widely distributed animal he studies.
The father of modern zoology seems to have had no
doubt upon this point. At the twenty-eighth page of
the standard twelfth edition of the " Systema Naturae,"
in fact, we find : —

142

CRITIQUES AND ADDRESSES.

[vn.

I. PRIMATES.

Denies pnmores incisor es : superior es IV. parallel^ mammce
pectorales II.

1. HOMO. Nosce te ipsum.

Sapiens. 1. II. diurnus : varians cultura, loco.

Ferus. Tetrapus, mutus, hirsutus.

Americanus a. Rufus, cholericus, rectus — Pills nigris, rectis, crassis —
Naribus patulis — Facie ephelitica : Mento subimberbi.

Pertinax, contentus, liber. Pingit se lineis dsedaleis
rub r is.

Regitur Consuetudine.

Europceus /3. Albus sanguineus torosus. Pilis flavescentibus, prolixis.
Oculis coeruleis.

Levis, argutus, inventor. Tegitur Yestimentis arctis.
Regitur Ritibus.

Asiaticus y. Luridus, melancholicus, rigidus. Pilis nigricantibus.
Oculis fuscis. Severus, fastuosus, avarus. Teyitur
Indumentis laxis.
Regitur Opinionibus.

Afer S. Niger, phlegmaticus, laxns. Pilis atris, contortuplicatis.

Cute holosericea. Naso simo. Labiis tumidis.
Feminis sinus pudoris.
Mammce lactantes prolixte.

Vafer, segnis, negligens. Ungit se pingui. Regitur
Arbitrio.

Monstrosus e. Solo (a) et arte (b c) variat. :

a. Alpini parvi, agiles, timidi.
Patagonici magni, segnes.

b. Monorchides ut minus fertiles : Hottentotti.
Juncece puellse, abdomine attenuate : Europoea3.

c. Macrocephali capiti conico : Chinenses.
Plagiocephali capite antice compresso : Canadenses.

Turn a few pages further on in the same volume, and
there appears, with a fine impartiality in the distribution
of capitals and sub-divisional headings : —

\-n.] METHODS AND RESULTS OF ETHNOLOGY. 143

III. FERJ3.

Denies primores superiores sex, acutiusculi. Canini solitarii.

12. CANIS. Denies primores superiores VI. : laterales longiores
distantes : intermedii lobati. Inferiores VI.: laterales
lobati.

Laniarii solitarii, incurvati.
Molares VI. s. VII. (pluresve quam in reliquis).

familiaris 1. C. cauda (sinistrorsum) recurvata

domesticus a. auriculis erectis, cauda subtus lanata.
sagax /3. auriculis pendulis, digito spurio ad tibias posticas.
grajus y. magaitudine lupi, trunco curvato, rostro attenuate,
&c. &c.

Linnaeus' definition of what lie considers to be mere
varieties of the species Man are, it will be observed, as
completely free from any allusion to linguistic pecu
liarities as those brief and pregnant sentences in which
he sketches the characters of the varieties of the species
Dog. " Pilis nigris, naribus patulis " may be set against
"auriculis erectis, cauda subtus lanata ;" while the
remarks on the morals and manners of the human
subject seem as if they were thrown in merely by way
of makeweight.

Buffon, Blumenbach (the founder of ethnology as a
special science), Kudolphi, Bory de St. Vincent, Des-
moulins, Cuvier, Ketzius, indeed I may say all the
naturalists proper, have dealt with man from a no less
completely zoological point of view; while, as might
have been expected, those who have been least natu
ralists, and most linguists, have most neglected the
zoological method, the neglect culminating in those
who have been altogether devoid of acquaintance with
anatomy,

Prichard's proposition, that language is more persistent
than physical characters, as one which has never been

144 CRITIQUES AND ADDRESSES. [vn.

proved, and indeed admits of no proof, seeing that the
records of language do not extend so far as those of
physical characters. But, until the superior tenacity of
linguistic over physical peculiarities is shown, and until
the abundant evidence which exists, that the language
of a people may change without corresponding physical
change in that people, is shown to be valueless, it is
plain that the zoological court of appeal is the highest
for the ethnologist, and that no evidence can be set
against that derived from physical characters.

What, then, will a new survey of mankind from the
Linnean point of view teach us ?

The great antipodal block of land we call Australia
has, speaking roughly, the form of a vast quadrangle,
2,000 miles on the side, and extends from the hottest
tropical, to the middle of the temperate, zone. Setting
aside the foreign colonists introduced within the last
century, it is inhabited by people no less remarkable
for the uniformity, than for the singularity, of their
physical characters and social state. For the most part
of fair stature, erect and well built, except for an
unusual slenderness of the lower limbs, the AUSTRALIANS
have dark, usually chocolate-coloured skins ; fine dark
wavy hair ; dark eyes, overhung by beetle brows ; coarse,
projecting jaws ; broad and dilated, but not especially
flattened, noses ; and lips which, though prominent, are
eminently flexible.

The skulls of these people are always long and narrow,
with a smaller development of the frontal sinuses than
usually corresponds with such largely developed brow
ridges. An Australian skull of a round form, or one the
transverse diameter of which exceeds eight-tenths of its
length, has never been seen. These people, in a word,
are eminently " dolichocephalic," or long-headed ; but,

vir.] METHODS AND RESULTS OF ETHNOLOGY. 145

with this one limitation, their crania present considerable
variations, some being comparatively high and arched,
while others are more remarkably depressed than almost
any other human skulls.

The female pelvis differs comparatively little from the
European ; but in the pelves of male Australians which
I have examined, the antero-posterior and transverse
diameters approach equality more nearly than is the
case in Europeans.

No Australian tribe has ever been known to cultivate
t!ie ground, to use rnetals, pottery, or any kind of textile
fabric. They rarely construct huts. Their means of
navigation are limited to rafts or canoes, made of sheets
of bark. Clothing, except skin cloaks for protection
from cold, is a superfluity with which they dispense ;
and though they have some singular weapons, almost
peculiar to themselves, they are wholly unacquainted
with bows and arrows.

It is but a step, as it were, across Bass's Straits to
Tasmania. Neither climate nor the characteristic forms
of vegetable or animal life change largely on the south
.side of the Straits, but the early voyagers found Man
•singularly different from him on the north side. The
skin of the Tasmanian was dark, though he lived between
parallels of latitude corresponding with those of middle
Europe in our own hemisphere ; his jaws projected, his
head was long and narrow ; his civilization was about on
a footing with that of the Australian, if not lower, for I
cannot discover that the Tasmanian understood the use
of the throwing-stick. But he differed from the Aus
tralian in his woolly, negro-like hair, whence the
name of NEGRITO, which has been applied to him and
his congeners.

Such Negritos — differing more or less from the Tasma
nian, but agreeing with him in dark skin and woolly

146 CRITIQUES AND ADDEESSES. [vn.

hair — occupy New Caledonia, the New Hebrides, the
Louisiade Archipelago ; and stretching to the Papuan
Islands, and for a doubtful extent beyond them to the
north and west, form a sort of belt, or zone, of Negrito
population, interposed between the Australians on the
west and the inhabitants of the great majority of the
Pacific islands on the east.

The cranial characters of the Negritos vary consider
ably more than those of their skin and hair, the most
notable circumstance being the strong Australian aspect
which distinguishes many Negrito skulls, while others
tend rather towards forms common in the Polynesian
islands.

In civilization, New Caledonia exhibits an advance
upon Tasmania, and, farther north, there is a still greater
improvement. But the bows and arrows, the perched
houses, the outrigger canoes, the habits of betel-chewing
and of kawa- drinking, which abound more or less among
the northern Negritos, are probably to be regarded not
as the products of an indigenous civilization, but merely
as indications of the extent to which foreign influences
have modified the primitive social state of these people.

From Tasmania or New Caledonia, to New Zealand or
Tongataboo, is again but a brief voyage ; but it brings
about a still more notable change in the aspect of the
indigenous population than that effected by the passage
of Bass's Straits. Instead of being chocolate-coloured
people, the Maories and Tongans are light brown ; instead
of woolly, they have straight, or wavy, black hair. And
if from New Zealand, we travel some 5,000 miles cast to
Easter Island ; and from Easter Island, for as great a
distance north-west, to the Sandwich Islands ; and thence
7,000 miles, westward and southward, to Sumatra ; and
even across the Indian Ocean, into the interior of Mada
gascar, we shall everywhere meet with people whose hair

vrr.] METHODS AND RESULTS OF ETHNOLOGY. 147

is straight or wavy, and whose skins exhibit various
shades of brown. These are the Polynesians, Micro-
nesians, Indonesians, whom Latham has grouped together
under the common title of AMPHINESIANS.

The cranial characters of these people, as of the
Negritos, are less constant than those of their skin and
hair. The Maori has a long skull ; the Sandwich
Islander a broad skull. Some, like these, have strong
brow ridges ; others, like the Dayaks and many Poly
nesians, have hardly any nasal indentation.

It is only in the westernmost parts of their area that
the Amphinesian nations know anything about bows and
arrows as weapons, or are acquainted with the use of
metals or with pottery. Everywhere they cultivate the
ground, construct houses, and skilfully build and manage
outrigger, or double, canoes ; while, almost everywhere,
they use some kind of fabric for clothing.

Between Easter Island, or the Sandwich Islands, and
any part of the American coast is a much wider interval
than that between Tasmania and New Zealand, but the
ethnological interval between the American and the

O

Polynesian is less than that between either of the pre
viously named stocks.

The typical AMERICAN has straight black hair and
dark eyes, his skin exhibiting various shades of reddish
or yellowish brown, sometimes inclining to olive. The
face is broad and scantily bearded ; the skull wide and
high. Such people extend from Patagonia to Mexico,
and much farther north along the west coast. In the
main a race of hunters, they had nevertheless, at the time
of the discovery of the Americas, attained a remark
able degree of civilization in some localities. They had
domesticated ruminants, and not only practised agri
culture, but had learned the value of irrigation. They
manufactured textile fabrics, were masters of the potter's

148 CRITIQUES AND ADDRESSES. [vii.

art, and knew how to erect massive buildings of stone.
They understood the working of the precious, though
not of the useful, metals ; and had even attained to a
rude kind of hieroglyphic, or picture, writing.

The Americans not only employ the bow and arrow,
but, like some Amphinesians, the blow-pipe, as offensive
weapons : but I am not aware that the outrigger canoe
has ever been observed among them.

I have reason to suspect that some of the Fuegian
tribes differ cranially from the typical Americans ; and
the Northern and Eastern American tribes have longer
skulls than their Southern compatriots. But the ESQUI
MAUX, who roam on the desolate and ice-bound coasts of
Arctic America, certainly present us with a new stock.
The Esquimaux (among whom the Greenlanders are
included), in fact, though they share the straight black
hair of the proper Americans, are a duller complexioned,
shorter, and more squat people, and they have still more
prominent cheek-bones. But the circumstance which
most completely separates them from the typical Ameri
cans, is the form of their skulls, which instead of being
broad, high, and truncated behind, are eminently long,
usually low, and prolonged backwards.

These Hyperborean people clothe themselves in skins,
know nothing of pottery, and hardly anything of metals.
Dependent for existence upon the produce of the chase,
the seal and the whale are to them what the cocoa-nut
tree and the plantain are to the savages of more genial
climates. Not only are those animals meat and rai
ment, but they are canoes, sledges, weapons, tools,
windows, and fire; while they support the dog, who
is the indispensable ally and beast of burden of the
Esquimaux.

It is admitted that the Tchuktchi, on the eastern
side of Behring's Straits, are, in all essential respects,

vii.] METHODS AND RESULTS OF ETHNOLOGY. 149

Esquimaux; and I do not know that there is any
satisfactory evidence to show that the Tunguses and
Samoiedes do not essentially share the physical characters
of the same people. Southward, there are indications
of Esquimaux characters among the Japanese, and
it is possible that their influence may be traced yet
further.

However this may be, Eastern Asia, from Mantehouria
to Siam, Thibet, and Northern Hindostan, is continuously
inhabited by men, usually of short stature, with skins
varying in colour from yellow to olive ; with broad cheek
bones and faces that, owing to the insignificance of the
nose, are exceedingly flat ; and with small, obliquely-set,
black eyes and straight black hair, which sometimes
attains a very great length upon the scalp, but is always
scanty upon the face and body. The skull is never
much elongated, and is, generally, remarkably broad and
rounded, with hardly any nasal depression, and but slight,
if any, projection of the jaws.

Many of these people, for whom the old name of
MONGOLIANS may be retained, are nomades ; others, as
the Chinese, have attained a remarkable and apparently
indigenous civilization, only surpassed by that of Europe.
At the north-western extremity of Europe the Lapps
repeat the characters of the Eastern Asiatics. Between
these extreme points, the Mongolian stock is not con
tinuous4, but is represented by a chain of more or less
isolated tribes, who pass under the name of Calmucks
and Tartars, and form Mongolian islands, as it were, in
the midst of an ocean of other people.

The waves of this ocean are the nations for whom, in
order to avoid the endless confusion produced by our
present half -physical, half -philological classification, I
shall use a new name — XANTHOCHEOI — indicating that
they are " yellow " haired and " pale " in complexion.

150 CRITIQUES AND ADDRESSES. [vn.

The Chinese historians of the Han dynasty, writing in
the third century before our era, describe, with much
minuteness, certain numerous and powerful barbarians
with " yellow hair, green eyes, and prominent noses/'
who, the black-haired, skew-eyed, and flat-nosed an
nalists remark in passing, are "just like the apes from
whom they are descended/' These people held, in force,
the upper waters of the Yenisei, and thence under various
names stretched southward to Thibet and Kashgar. Fair-
haired and blue-eyed northern enemies were no less
known to the ancient Hindoos, to the Persians, and to the
Egyptians, on the south of the great central Asiatic area ;
while the testimony of all European antiquity is to the
effect that, before and since the period in question, there
lay beyond the Danube, the Ehine, and the Seine, a vast
and dangerous yellow or red haired, fair- skinned, blue-
eyed population. Whether the disturbers of the marches
of the Roman Empire were called Gauls or Germans,
Goths, Alans, or Scythians, one thing seems certain, that
until the invasion of the Huns, they were tall, fair, blue-
eyed men.

If any one should think fit to assume that in the year
100 B.C., there was one continuous Xanthochroic popula
tion from the Rhine to the Yenisei, and from the Ural
mountains to the Hindoo Koosh, I know not that any
evidence exists by which that position could be upset,
while the existing state of things is rather in its favour
than otherwise. For the Scandinavians, wholly, the
Germans to a great extent, the Slavonian and the
Finnish tribes, some of the inhabitants of Greece, many
Turks, some Kirghis, and some Mantchous, the Ossetes in
the Caucasus, the Siahposh, the Rohillas, are at the
present day fair, yellow or red haired, and blue-eyed ;
and the interpolation of tribes of Mongolian hair and
complexion, as far west as the Caspian Steppes and the

vri.] METHODS AND RESULTS OF ETBNOL')GY. 151

Crimea, might justly be accounted for by those subse
quent westward irruptions of the Mongolian stock, of
which history furnishes abundant testimony.

The furthermost limit of the Xanthochroi north- west
ward is Iceland and the British Isles ; south-westward,
they are traceable at intervals through the Berber country,
and end in the Canary Islands.

The cranial characters of the Xanthochroi are not, at pre
sent, strictly definable. The Scandinavians are certainly
long-headed ; but many Germans, the Swiss so far as they
are Germanized, the Slavonians, the Fins, and the Turks,
are short-headed. What were the cranial characters of
the ancient " U-suns " and " Ting-lings " of the valley of
the Yenisei is unknown.

"West of the area occupied by the chief mass of the
Xanthochroi, and north of the Sahara, is a broad belt of
land, shaped like a >-. Between the forks of the Y lies
the Mediterranean ; the stem of it is Arabia. The stem
is bathed by the Indian Ocean, the western ends of the
forks by the Atlantic. The people inhabiting the area
thus roughly sketched have, like the Xanthochroi, pro
minent noses, pale skins and wavy hair, with abundant
beards ; but, unlike them, the hair is black or dark, and
the eyes usually so. They may thence be called the MELA-
NOCHKOI. Such people are found in the British Islands,
in Western and Southern Gaul, in Spain, in Italy south
of the Po, in parts of Greece, in Syria and Arabia,
stretching as far northward and eastward as the Caucasus
and Persia. They are the chief inhabitants of Africa
north of the Sahara, and, like the Xanthochroi, they end
in the Canary Islands. They are known as Kelts, Iberians,
Etruscans, Eomans, Pelasgians, Berbers, Semites. The
majority of them are long-headed, and of smaller stature
than the Xanthochroi.

It is needless to remark upon the civilization of these

152 CRITIQUES AND ADDRESSES. [vn.

two great stocks. With them has originated everything
that is highest in science, in art, in law, in politics,
and in mechanical inventions. In their hands, at the
present moment, lies the order of the social world, and
to them its progress is committed.

South of the Atlas, and of the Great Desert, Middle
Africa exhibits a new type of humanity in the NEGRO,
with his dark skin, woolly hair, projecting jaws, and thick
lips. As a rule, the skull of the Negro is remarkably
long ; it rarely approaches the broad type, and never
exhibits the roundness of the Mongolian. A cultivator
of the ground, and dwelling in villages ; a maker of
pottery, and a worker in the useful as well as the orna
mental metals ; employing the bow and arrow as well
as the spear, the typical negro stands high in point of
civilization above the Australian.

Eesembling the Negroes in cranial characters, the
BUSHMEN of South Africa differ from them in their
yellowish brown skins, their tufted hair, their remark
ably small stature, and their tendency to fatty and
other integumentary outgrowths ; nor is the wonderful
click with which their speech is interspersed to be over
looked in enumerating the physical characteristics of
this strange people.

The so-called " Drawidian " populations of Southern
Hindostan lead us back, physically as well as geographi
cally, towards the Australians ; while the diminutive
MINCOPIES of the Andaman Islands lie midway between
the Negro and Negrito races, and, as Mr. Busk has
pointed out, occasionally present the rare combination
of Brachycephaly, or short-head edness, with woolly
hair.

In the preceding progress along the outskirts of the
habitable world, eleven readily distinguishable stocks, or
persistent modifications, of mankind, have been recog-

v:i.] METHODS AND RESULTS OF ETHNOLOGY. 153

nized. I have purposely omitted such people as the
Abyssinians and the Hindoos, who there is every reason
to believe result from the intermixture of distinct stocks.
Perhaps I ought, for like reasons, to have ignored the
Mincopies. But I do not pretend that my enumeration
is complete or, in any sense, perfect. It is enough for
my purpose if it be admitted (and I think it cannot
be denied) that those which I have mentioned exist,
nre well marked, and occupy the greater part of the
habitable globe.

In attempting to classify these persistent modifications
after the manner of naturalists, the first circumstance
that attracts one's attention is the broad contrast between
the people with straight and wavy hair, and those with
crisp, woolly, or tufted hair. Bory de St. Vincent, noting
this fundamental distinction, divided mankind accord
ingly into the two primary groups of Leiotrichi and
Ulotriclii, — terms which are open to criticism, but which
I adopt in the accompanying table, because they have
been used. It is better for science to accept a faulty
name which has the merit of existence, than to burthen
it with a faultless newly invented one.

Under each of these divisions are two columns, one
for the Brachycephali, or short heads, and one for the
Dolichocephali,1 or long heads. Again, each column is
subdivided transversely into four compartments, one for
the " leucous," people with fair complexions and yellow
or red hair ; one for the "leucomelanous," with dark hair
and pale skins ; one for the " xanthomelanous," with black
hair and yellow, brown, or olive skins ; and one for the
" melanous," with black hair and dark brown or blackish
skins.

i Skulls, the transverse diameter of which is more than eight-tenths the
long diameter, are short ; those which have the transverse diameter less than
eight-tenths the longitudinal, are long.

154 CRITIQUES AND ADDRESSES. [vn.

LEIOTEICHI. ULOTRICHI.

Dolichocephali. Brachycephali. Dolichocephali. Brachycephali.
Leucous.

.... Xanthochroi ....
Leucomelanous.

.... Melanochroi ....
Xanthomelanous.

Esquimaux. Mongolians. Bushmen.

Amphinesians.

Americans.

Melanous. -t

Australians. Negroes. Mincopie? (})

Negritos.

*£* The names of the stocks known only since the fifteenth centurfy
are put into italics. If the " Skralings " of the Norse discoveries 07
America were Esquimaux, Europeans became acquainted with-^,-^
latter six or seven centuries earlier.

It is curious to observe that almost all the woolly-,
headed people are also long-headed ; while among the
straight-haired nations broad heads preponderate, and;
only two stocks, the Esquimaux and the Australians, am
exclusively long-headed.

One of the acutest and most original of ethnologists,
Desmoulins, originated the idea, which has subsequently
been fully developed by Agassiz, that the distribution
of the persistent modifications of man is governed by
the same laws as that of other animals, and that both
fall into the same great distributional provinces. Thus,
Australia ; America, south of Mexico ; the Arctic regions ;
Europe, Syria, Arabia, and North Africa, taken together,
are each regions eminently characterized by the nature
of their animal and vegetable populations, and each, as
we have seen, has its peculiar and characteristic form of
man. But it may be doubted whether the parallel thus
drawn will hold good strictly, and in all cases. The
Tasmanian Fauna and Flora are essentially Australian,
and the like is true to a less extent of many, if not of

vir.] METHODS AND RESULTS OF ETHNOLOGY. 155

all, the Papuan islands ; but the Negritos who inhabit
these islands are strikingly different from the Austra
lians. Again, the differences between the Mongolians
and the Xanthochroi are out of all proportion greater
than those between the Faunae and Florae of Central and
Eastern Asia. But whatever the difficulties in the
way of the detailed application of this comparison of
the distribution of men with that of animals, it is well
worthy of being borne in mind, and carried as far as it
will go.

Apart from all speculation, a very curious fact regard
ing the distribution of the persistent modifications of
mankind becomes apparent on inspecting an Ethnolo-
t jl chart, projected in such a manner that the Pacific
Ocean occupies its centre. Such a chart exhibits an
Australian area occupied by dark smooth-haired people,
separated by an incomplete inner zone of dark woolly-
haired Negritos and Negroes, from an outer zone of com
paratively pale and smooth-haired men, occupying the
Americas, and nearly all Asia and North Africa.

Such is a brief sketch of the characters and distribu
tion of the persistent modifications, or stocks, of man
kind at the present day. If we seek for direct evidence
of how long this state of things has lasted, we shall
find little enough, and that little far from satisfactory.
Of the eleven different stocks enumerated, seven have
been known to us for less than 400 years ; and of these
seven not one possessed a fragment of written history at
the time it came into contact with European civilization.
The other four — the Negroes, Mongolians, Xanthochroi,
•ind Melanochroi — have always existed in some of the
localities in which they are now found, nor do the negroes
ever seem to have voluntarily travelled beyond the limits
of their present area. But ancient history is in a great
8

156 CRITIQUES AND ADDRESSES. [vn.

measure the record of the mutual encroachments of the
other three stocks.

On the whole, however, it is wonderful how little
change has been effected by these mutual invasions and
intermixtures. As at the present time, so at the dawn
of history, the Melanochroi fringed the Atlantic and
the Mediterranean ; the Xanthochroi occupied most of
Central and Eastern Europe, and much of Western and
Central Asia ; while Mongolians held the extreme east of
the Old World. So far as history teaches us, the popu
lations of Europe, Asia, and Africa were, twenty centuries
ago, just what they are now, in their broad features and
general distribution.

The evidence yielded by Archaeology is not very
definite, but, so far as it goes, it is to much the same
effect. The mound builders of Central America seem to
have had the characteristic short and broad head of the
modern inhabitants of that continent. The tumuli and
tombs of Ancient Scandinavia, of pre-Roman Britain, of
Gaul, of Switzerland, reveal two types of skull — a broad
and a long — of which, in Scandinavia, the broad seems
to have belonged to the older stock, while the reverse
was probably the case in Britain, and certainly in Switz
erland. It has been assumed that the broad-skulled
people of ancient Scandinavia were Lapps ; but there
is no proof of the fact, and they may have been, like
the broad-skulled Swiss and Germans, Xanthochroi.
One of the greatest of ethnological difficulties is to
know where the modern Swedes, Norsemen, and Saxons
got their long heads, as all their neighbours, Fins, Lapps,
Slavonians, and South Germans, are broad-headed.
Again, who were the small-handed, long-headed people
of the " bronze epoch," and what has become of the
infusion of their blood among the Xanthochroi ?

At present Palaeontology yields no safe data to the

vii.] METHODS AND EESULTS OF ETHNOLOGY. 157

ethnologist. We know absolutely nothing of the ethno
logical characters of the men of Abbeville and Hoxne ;
but must be content with the demonstration, in itself of
immense value, that Man existed in "Western Europe
when its physical condition was widely different from
what it is now, and when animals existed, which, though
they belong to what is, properly speaking, the present
order of things, have long been extinct. Beyond the
limits of a fraction of Europe, Palaeontology tells us
nothing of man or of his works.

To sum up our knowledge of the ethnological past
of man : so far as the light is bright, it shows him
substantially as he is now ; and, when it grows dim, it
permits us to see no sign that he was other than he
is now.

It is a general belief that men of different stocks
differ as much physiologically as they do morphologically ;
but it is very hard to prove, in any particular case, how
much of a supposed national characteristic is due to
inherent physiological peculiarities, and how much to
the influence of circumstances. There is much evidence
to show, however, that some stocks enjoy a partial or
complete immunity from diseases which destroy, or
decimate, others. Thus there seems good ground for
the belief that Negroes are remarkably exempt from
yellow fever ; and that, among Europeans, the melano-
chrous people are less obnoxious to its ravages than the
xanthochrous. But many writers, not content with
physiological differences of this kind, undertake to prove
the existence of others of far greater moment ; and,
indeed, to show that certain stocks of mankind exhibit,
more or less distinctly, the physiological characters of
true species. Unions between these stocks, and still
more between the half-breeds arising from their mixture,
are affirmed to be either infertile, or less fertile than those

158 CRITIQUES AND ADDRESSES. [vn.

which take place between males and females of either
stock under the same circumstances. Some go so far as
to assert that no mixed breeds of mankind can maintain
themselves without the assistance of one or other of the
parent stocks, and that, consequently, they must inevit
ably be obliterated in the long run.

Here, again, it is exceedingly difficult to obtain trust
worthy evidence, and to free the effects of the pure
physiological experiment from adventitious influences.
The only trial which, by a strange chance, was kept clear
of all such influences — the only instance in which two
distinct stocks of mankind were crossed, and their progeny
intermarried without any admixture from without — is
the famous case of the Pitcairn Islanders, who were the
progeny of Bligh's English sailors by Tahitian women.
The results of this experiment, as everybody knows, are
dead against those who maintain the doctrine of human
hybridity, seeing that the Pitcairn Islanders, even though
they necessarily contracted consanguineous marriages,
throve and multiplied exceedingly.

But those who are disposed to believe in this doctrine
should study the evidence brought forward in its support
by M. Broca, its latest and ablest advocate, and compare
this evidence with that which the botanists, as repre
sented by a Gaertner, or by a Darwin, think it indispen
sable to obtain before they will admit the infertility of
crosses between two allied kinds of plants. They will
then, I think, be satisfied that the doctrine in question
rests upon a very unsafe foundation ; that the facts
adduced in its support are capable of many other inter
pretations ; and, indeed, that from the very nature of
the case, demonstrative evidence one way or the other
is almost unattainable. A priori, I should be disposed
to expect a certain amount of infertility between some of
the extreme modifications of mankind ; and still more

vn.] METHODS AND RESULTS

between the offsprings of their intermixture": ~ ~A poste
riori, I cannot discover any satisfactory proof that such
infertility exists.

From the facts of ethnology I now turn to the theories
and speculations of ethnologists, which have been devised
to explain these facts, and to furnish satisfactory answers
to the inquiry — what conditions have determined the
existence of the persistent modifications of mankind,
and have caused their distribution to be what it is ?

These speculations may be grouped under three heads:
firstly, the Monogenist hypotheses ; secondly, those of
the Polygenists ; and thirdly, that which would result
from a simple application of Darwinian principles to
mankind.

According to the Monogenists, all mankind have sprung
from a single pair, whose multitudinous progeny spread
themselves over the world, such as it now is, and became
modified into the forms we meet with in the various
regions of the earth, by the effect of the climatal and
other conditions to which they were subjected.

The advocates of this hypothesis are divisible into
several schools. There are those who represent the most
numerous, respectable, and would-be orthodox of the
public, and are what may be called " Adamites," pure and
simple. They believe that Adam was made out of earth
somewhere in Asia, about six thousand years ago ; that
Eve was modelled from one of his ribs ; and that the
progeny of these two having been reduced to the eight
persons who were landed on the summit of Mount
Ararat after an universal deluge, all the nations of the
earth have proceeded from these last, have migrated to
their present localities, and have become converted into
Negroes, Australians, Mongolians, &c., within that time.
Five-sixths of the public are taught this Adamitic Mono-
genism, as if it were an established truth, and believe it.

160 CRITIQUES AND ADDRESSES. [vn.

I do not ; and I am not acquainted with any man of
science, or duly instructed person, who does.

A second school of monogenists, not worthy of much
attention, attempts to hold a place midway between the
Adamites and a third division, who take up a purely
scientific position, and require to be dealt with accord
ingly. This third division, in fact, numbers in its ranks
Linnaeus, Buffon, Blumenbach, Cuvier, Prichard, and
many distinguished living ethnologists.

These "Kational Monogenists," or, at any rate, the
more modern among them, hold, firstly, that the present
condition of the earth has existed for untold ages ;
secondly, that, at a remote period, beyond the ken of
Archbishop Usher, man was created, somewhere between
the Caucasus and the Hindoo Koosh ; thirdly, that he
might have migrated thence to all parts of the inhabited
world, seeing that none of them are unattainable from
some other inhabited part, by men provided with only
such means of transport as savages are known to possess
and must have invented ; fourthly, that the operation of
the existing diversities of climate and other conditions
upon people so migrating, is sufficient to account for all
the diversities of mankind.

Of the truth of the first of these propositions no com
petent judge now entertains any doubt. The second is
more open to discussion, for in these latter days many
question the special creation of man : and even if his
special creation be granted, there is not a shadow of a
reason why he should have been created in Asia rather
than anywhere else. Of all the odd myths that have
arisen in the scientific world, the " Caucasian mystery/'
invented quite innocently by Blumenbach, is the oddest.
A Georgian woman's skull was the handsomest in his
collection. Hence it became his model exemplar of
human skulls, from which all others might be regarded as

vii.] METHODS AND RESULTS OF ETHNOLOGY. 161

deviations ; and out of this, by some strange intellectual
hocus-pocus, grew up the notion that the Caucasian man
is the prototypic "Adamic" man, and his country the
primitive centre of our kind. Perhaps the most curious
thing of all is, that the said Georgian skull, after all, is
not a skull of average form, but distinctly belongs to the
brachycephalic group.

With the third proposition I am quite disposed to
agree, though it must be recollected that it is one thing
to allow that a given migration is possible, and another
to admit there is good reason to believe it has really
taken place.

But I can find no sufficient ground for accepting the
fourth proposition ; and I doubt if it would ever have
obtained its general currency except for the circumstance
that fair Europeans are very readily tanned and em
browned by the sun. But I am not aware that there
is a particle of proof that the cutaneous change thus
effected can become hereditary, any more than that the
enlarged livers, which plague our countrymen in India,
can be transmitted ; — while there is very strong evidence
to the contrary. Not only, in fact, are there such cases
as those of the English families in Barbadoes, who have
remained for six generations unaltered in complexion, but
which are open to the objection that they may have
received infusions of fresh European blood ; but there is
the broad fact, that not a single indigenous Negro exists
either in the great alluvial plains of tropical South
America, or in the exposed islands of the Polynesian
Archipelago, or among the populations of equatorial
Borneo or Sumatra. No satisfactory explanation of
these obvious difficulties has been offered by the advo
cates of the direct influence of conditions. And as for
the more important modifications observed in the struc
ture of the brain, and in the form of the skull, no one

162 CRITIQUES AND ADDEESSES. [vn.

lias ever pretended to show in what way they can be
effected directly by climate.

It is here, in fact, that the strength of the Polygenists,
or those who maintain that men primitively arose, not
from one, but from many stocks, lies. Show us, they
say to the Monogenists, a single case in which the cha
racters of a human stock have been essentially modi
fied without its being demonstrable, or, at least, highly
probable, that there has been intermixture of blood
with some foreign stock. Bring forward any instance
in which a part of the world, formerly inhabited by one
stock, is now the dwelling-place of another, and we
will prove the change to be the result of migration,
or of intermixture, and not of modification of character
by climatic influences. Finally, prove to us that the
evidence in favour of the specific distinctness of many
animals, admitted to be distinct species by all zoologists,
is a whit better than that upon which we maintain the
specific distinctness of men.

If presenting unanswerable objections to your adver
sary were the same thing as proving your own case, the
Polygenists would be in a fair way towards victory ; but,
unfortunately, as I have already observed, they have
as yet completely failed to adduce satisfactory positive
proof of the specific diversity of mankind. Like the
Monogenists, the Polygenists are of several sects ; some
imagine that their assumed species of mankind were
created where we find them — the African in Africa, and
the Australian in Australia, along with the other animals
of their distributional province ; others conceive that each
species of man has resulted from the modification of some
antecedent species of ape — the American from the broad-
nosed Simians of the New World, the African from
the Troglodytic stock, the Mongolian from the Orangs.

The first hypothesis is hardly likely to win much

vii.] METHODS AND RESULTS OF ETHNOLOGY. 1G3

favour. The whole tendency of modern science is to
thrust the origination of things farther and further into
the background ; and the chief philosophical objection to
Adam being, not his oneness, but the hypothesis of his
special creation ; the multiplication of that objection
tenfold is, whatever it may look, an increase, instead of
a diminution, of the difficulties of the case. And, as to
the second alternative, it may safely be affirmed that,
even if the differences between men are specific, they
are so small, that the assumption of more than one
primitive stock for all is altogether superfluous. Surely
no one can now be found to assert that any two stocks
of mankind differ as much as a chimpanzee and an
orang do ; still less that they are as unlike as either
of these is to any New World Simian !

Lastly, the granting of the Polygenist premises does
not, in the slightest degree, necessitate the Polygenist
conclusion. Admit that Negroes and Australians, Ne
gritos and Mongols are distinct species, or distinct genera,
if you will, and you may yet, with perfect consistency,
be the strictest of Monogenists, and even believe in Adam
r.nd Eve as the primaeval parents of all mankind.

It is to Mr. Darwin we owe this discovery : it is he
who, coming forward in the guise of an eclectic philoso
pher, presents his doctrine as the key to ethnology, and
as reconciling and combining all that is good in the
Monogenistic and Polygenistic schools.

It is true that Mr. Darwin has not, in so many words,
applied his views to ethnology ; but even he who " runs
and reads" the " Origin of Species" can hardly fail to do
so ; and, furthermore, Mr. "Wallace and M. Pouchet have
recently treated of ethnological questions from this point
of view. Let me, in conclusion, add my own contribution
to the same store.

I assume Man to have arisen in the manner which I

164 CRITIQUES AND ADDRESSES. [vn.

have discussed elsewhere, and probably, though by no
means necessarily, in one locality. Whether he arose
singly, or a number of examples appeared contempo
raneously, is also an open question for the believer in the
production of species by the gradual modification of pre
existing ones. At what epoch of the world's history this
took place, again, we have no evidence whatever. It
may have been in the older tertiary, or earlier, but what
is most important to remember is, that the discoveries
of late years have proved that man inhabited Western
Europe, at any rate, before the occurrence of those great
physical changes which have given Europe its present
aspect. And as the same evidence shows that man was
the contemporary of animals which are now extinct, it is
not too much to assume that his existence dates back at
least as far as that of our present Fauna and Flora, or
before the epoch of the drift.

But if this be true, it is somewhat startling to reflect
upon the prodigious changes which have taken place in
the physical geography of this planet since man has been
an occupant of it.

During that period the greater part of the British
islands, of Central Europe, of Northern Asia, have been
submerged beneath the sea and raised up again. So has
the great desert of Sahara, which occupies the major part
of Northern Africa. The Caspian and the Aral seas have
been one, and their united waters have probably com
municated with both the Arctic and the Mediterranean
oceans. The greater part of North America has been
under water, and has emerged. It is highly probable
that a large part of the Malayan Archipelago has
sunk, and its primitive continuity with Asia has been
destroyed. Over the great Polynesian area subsidence
has taken place to the extent of many thousands of
feet — subsidence of so vast a character, in fact, that

vii.] METHODS AND RESULTS OF ETHNOLOGY. 165

if a continent like Asia had once occupied the area of
the Pacific, the peaks of its mountains would now show
not more numerous than the islands of the Polynesian
Archipelago.

What lands may have been thickly populated for
untold ages, and subsequently have disappeared and
left no sign above the waters, it is of course impossible
for us to say ; but unless we are to make the wholly
unjustifiable assumption that no dry land rose elsewhere
when our present dry land sank, there must be half-a-
dozen Atlantises beneath the waves of the various oceans
of the world. But if the regions which have undergone
these slow and gradual, but immense alterations, were
wholly or in part inhabited before the changes I have
indicated began — and it is more probable that they
were, than that they were not — what a wonderfully
efficient " Emigration Board " must have been at work
all over the world long before canoes, or even rafts, were
invented ; and before men were impelled to wander by
any desire nobler or stronger than hunger. And as
these rude and primitive families were thrust, in the
course of long series of generations, from land to land,
impelled by encroachments of sea or of marsh, or by
severity of summer heat or winter cold, to change their
positions, what opportunities must have been offered for
the play of natural selection, in preserving one family
variation and destroying another !

Suppose, for example, that some families of a horde
which had reached a land charged with the seeds of
yellow fever, varied in the direction of woolliness of
hair and darkness of skin. Then, if it be true that
these physical characters are accompanied by compara
tive or absolute exemptions from that scourge, the
inevitable tendency would be to the preservation and
multiplication of the darker and woollier families, and

166 CRITIQUES AND ADDRESSES. [vn.

the elimination of the whiter and smoother-haired. In
fact, by the operation of causes precisely similar to those
which, in the famous instance cited by Mr. Darwin,
have given rise to a race of black pigs in the forests
of Louisiana, a negro stock would eventually people
the region.

Again, how often, by such physical changes, must a
stock have been isolated from all others for innumerable
generations, and have found ample time for the hereditary
hardening of its special peculiarities into the enduring
characters of a persistent modification.

Nor, if it be true that the physiological difference of
species may be produced by variation and natural selec
tion, as Mr. Darwin supposes, would it be at all astonish
ing if, in some of these separated stocks, the process of
differentiation should have gone so far as to give rise to
the phenomena of hybridity. In the face of the over
whelming evidence in favour of the unity of the origin
of mankind afforded by anatomical considerations, satis
factory proof of the existence of any degree of sterility
in the unions of members of two of the " persistent
modifications " of mankind, might well be appealed to
by Mr. Darwin as crucial evidence of the truth of his
views regarding the origin of species in general.

VIII.

ON SOME FIXED POINTS IN BRITISH
ETHNOLOGY.

IN view of the many discussions to which the compli
cated problems offered by the ethnology of the British
Islands have given rise, it may be useful to attempt to
pick out, from amidst the confused masses of assertion
and of inference, those propositions which appear to rest
upon a secure foundation, and to state the evidence by
which they are supported. Such is the purpose of the
present paper.

Some of these well-based propositions relate to the
physical characters of the people of Britain and their
neighbours ; while others concern the languages which
they spoke. I shall deal, in the first place, with the
physical questions.

I. Eighteen hundred years ago the population of

Britain comprised people of two types of complexion

—the one fair, and the other dark. The dark people

resembled the Aquitani and the Iberians; the fair

people were like the Belgic Gauls.

The chief direct evidence of the truth of this proposi
tion is the well-known passage of Tacitus : —

" Ceterum Britanniaoi qui mortales initio coluermt, indigence an
advecti, ut inter barbaros, parum compertuin. Habitus corporuin

168 CRITIQUES AND ADDRESSES. [vm.

varii : atque ex eo arguraenta : nam rutilse Caledonian! habi'tantium
comsc, magni artus Germanicara originem asseverant. Silurura colorati
viiltus et torti plerumque crines, et posita contra Hispaniam, Iberos
veteres trajecisse, casque sedes occupasse, fidem faciunt. Proximi
Gallis et similes sunt ; seu durante originis vi, sen procurrentibus in
diversa terris, positio coeli corporibus habitum dedit. In universum
tamen sestimai>ti, Gallos vicinum solum occupasse, credibile est • eorum
sacra deprehendas, superstitionum persuasione ; sermo baud multum
di versus." 1

This passage, it will be observed, contains statements
as to facts, and certain conclusions deduced from these
facts. The matters of fact asserted are : firstly, that the
inhabitants of Britain exhibit much diversity in their
physical characters ; secondly, that the Caledonians are
red-haired and large-limbed, like the Germans ; thirdly,
that the Silures have curly hair and dark complexions,
like the people of Spain ; fourthly, that the British
people nearest Gaul resemble the " Galli."

Tacitus, therefore, states positively what the Caledo
nians and Silures were like ; but the interpretation of
what he says about the other Britons must depend upon
what we learn from other sources as to the characters of
these " Galli." Here the testimony of " divus Julius "
comes in with great force and appropriateness. Caesar
writes : —

" Britannia^ pars interior ab iis incolitur, quos natos in insu]a ipsi
memoria proditum dicunt : inarituma pars ab iis, qui predso ac belli
inferendi causa ex Belgio trausierant ; qui omnes fere iis noininibus
civitatum appellantur quibus orti ex civitatibus eo pervenerunt, et
bello inlato ibi permanserunt atque agros colere cceperunt." 2

From these passages it is obvious that in the opinion
of Csesar and Tacitus, the southern Britons resembled
the northern Gauls, and especially the Belgoe ; and the
evidence of Strabo is decisive as to the characters in
which the two people resembled one another : "The men

1 Taciti Agricola, c. 11. 2 DC Bello Gallico, v, 12.

viii.] BEITISH ETHNOLOGY. 169

[of Britain] are taller than the Kelts, with hair less
yellow ; they are slighter in their person s." 3

The evidence adduced appears to leave no reasonable
ground for doubting that, at the time of the Eoman
conquest, Britain contained people of two types, the one
dark' and the other fair complexioned, and that there was
a certain difference between the latter' in the north and
in the south of Britain : the northern folk being, in the
judgment of Tacitus, or, more properly, according to the
information he had received from Agricola and others,
more similar to the Germans -than the latter. As to the
distribution of these stocks, all that is clear is, that the
dark people were predominant in certain parts of the
west of the southern half of Britain, while the fair stock
appears to have furnished the chief elements of the
population elsewhere.

No ancient writer troubled himself with measuring
skulls, and therefore there is no direct evidence as to the
cranial characters of the fair and the dark stocks. The
indirect evidence is not very satisfactory. The tumuli of
Britain of pre-Eoman date have yielded two extremely
different forms of skull, the one broad- and the other long ;
and the same variety has been observed in the skulls of
the ancient Gauls.2 The suggestion is obvious that the
one form of skull may have been associated with the fair,
and the other with the dark, complexion. But any con
clusion of this kind is at once checked- by the reflection
that the extremes of long and short-headedness are to
be met with among the fair inhabitants of Germany and
of Scandinavia at the present day — the south-western
Germans and the Swiss being markedly broad-headed,

1 "The Geography of Strabo." Translated by Hamilton and Falconer:
v. 5.

2 See Dr. Thurnam ft On the Two principal Forms of Ancient British and
Gaulish Skulls."

170 CRITIQUES AND ADDRESSES. [vm.

while the Scandinavians are as predominantly long
headed.

What the natives of Ireland were like at the time of
the Roman conquest of Britain, and for centuries after
wards, we have no certain knowledge ; but the earliest
trustworthy records prove the existence, side by side with
one another, of a fair and a dark stock, in Ireland as in
Britain. The long form of skull is predominant among
the ancient, as among modern, Irish.

II. The people termed Gauls, and those called Germans,
by the Romans, did not differ in any important physical
character.

The terms in which the ancient writers describe both
Gauls and Germans are identical. They are always tall
people, with massive limbs, fair skins, fierce blue eyes,
and hair the colour of which ranges from red to yellow.
Zeuss, the great authority on these matters, affirms
broadly that no distinction in bodily feature is to be
found between the Gauls, the Germans, and the Wends,
so far as their characters are recorded by the old histo
rians ; and he proves his case by citations from a cloud
of witnesses.

An attempt has been made to show that the colour of
the hair of the Gauls must have differed very much from
that which obtained among the Germans, on the strength
of the story told by Suetonius (Caligula, 4), that Caligula
tried to pass off Gauls for Germans by picking out
the tallest, and making them " rutilare et summittere

comam."

The Baron de Belloguet remarks upon this passage :—

" It was in the very north of Gaul, and near the sea, that Caligula
got up this military comedy. And the fact proves that the Belgrc
were already sensibly different from their ancestors, whom Strabo had
found almost identical with their brothers on the other side of the
Khi ne."

viii.] BRITISH ETHNOLOGY. 171

But the fact recorded by Suetonius, if fact it be, proves
nothing ; for the Germans themselves were in the habit of
reddening their hair. Ammianus Marcellinus1 tells how,
in the year 367 A.D., the Eoman commander, Jovinus,
surprised a body of Alemanni near the town now called
Charpeigne, in the valley of the Moselle ; and how the
Eoman soldiers, as, concealed by the thick wood, they
stole upon their unsuspecting enemies, saw that some
were bathing and others " comas rutilantes ex more/'
More than two centuries earlier Pliny gives indirect
evidence to the same effect when he says of soap : —

" Galliarum hoc invent um rutilandis capillis . . . apud Gerinanos
niajore in usu viris quam focminis."2

Here we have a writer who flourished only a short time
after the date of the Caligula story, telling us that the
Gauls invented soap for the purpose of doing that which,
according to Suetonius, Caligula forced them to do.
And, further, the combined and independent testimony
of Pliny and Ammianus assures us that the Germans
were as much in the habit of reddening their hair as
the Gauls. As to De Belloguet's supposition that, eVen
in Caligula's time, the Gauls had become darker than
their ancestors were, it is directly contradicted by
Ammianus Marcellinus, who knew the Gauls well.
" Celsioris staturse et candidi pcene Galli sunt omnes, et
ruti]i, luminumque torvitate terribiles," is his description;
and it would fit the Gauls who sacked Eome.

III. In none of the invasions of Britain which have
taken place since the Roman dominion, has any other
type of man been introduced than one or other of the
two which existed during that dominion.

The North Germans, who effected what is commonly
called the Saxon conquest of Britain, were, most

1 Res Gestfr, xxvii. 2 Historia Naturalis, xxviii. 51.

172 CRITIQUES AND ADDRESSES. [mi

assuredly, a fair, yellow, or red-haired, blue eyed, long-
skulled people. So were the Danes and the Norsemen
who followed them ; though it is very possible that the
active slave trade which went on, and the intercourse with
Ireland, may have introduced a certain admixture of the
dark stock into both Denmark and Norway. The Nor
man conquest brought in new ethnological elements, the
precise value of which cannot be estimated with exact
ness ; but as to their quality, there can be no question,
inasmuch as even the wide area from which William
drew his followers could yield him nothing but the fair
and the dark types of men, already present in Britain.
But whether the Norman settlers, on the whole, strength
ened the fair or the dark element, is a problem, the
elements of the solution of which are not- attainable.

I am unable to discover any grounds for believing that
a Lapp element has ever entered into the population of
these islands. So far as the physical evidence goes, it is
perfectly consistent with the hypothesis that the only
constituent stocks of that population, now, or at any
other period about which we have evidence, are the dark
whites, whom I have proposed to call "Melanochroi"
and the fair whites, or " Xanthochroi."

IV. The Xanthochroi and the Melanochroi of Britain
are, speaking broadly, distributed, at present, as they
were, in the, time of Tacitus ; and their representatives
on the continent of Europe have the same general dis
tribution as at the earliest period of which ive have any
record.

At the present day, and notwithstanding the extensive
intermixture effected by the movements consequent on
civilization and on political changes, there is a predomi
nance of dark men in the west, and of fair men in the
east and north, of Britain. At the present day, as from
the earliest times, the predominant constituents of the

vin.] BRITISH ETHNOLOGY. 173

riverain population of the North Sea and the eastern half
of the British Channel, are fair men. The fair stock
continues in force through Central Europe, until it is
lost in Central Asia. Offshoots of this stock extend
into Spain, Italy, and Northern India, and by way of
Syria and North Africa, to the Canary Islands. They
were known in very early times to the Chinese, and in
still earlier to the ancient Egyptians, as frontier tribes.
The Thracians were notorious for their fair hair and
blue eyes many centuries before our era.

On the other hand, the dark stock predominates in
Southern and Western France, in Spain, along the
Ligurian shore, and in Western and Southern Italy;
in Greece, Asia, Syria, and North Africa; in Arabia,
Persia, Afghanistan, and Hindostan, shading gradually,
through all stages of darkening, into the type of the
modern Egyptian, or of the wild Hi]l-man of the
Dckkan. Nor is there any record of the existence of
a different population in all these countries.

The extreme north of Europe, and the northern part of
Western Asia, are at present occupied by a Mongoloid
stock, and, in the absence of evidence to the contrary,
may be assumed to have been so peopled from a very
remote epoch. But, as I have said, I can find no evi
dence that this stock ever took part in peopling Britain.
Of the three great stocks of mankind which extend from
the western coast of the great Eurasiatic continent to its
southern and eastern shores, the Mongoloids occupy a
vast triangle, the base of which is the whole of Eastern
Asia, while its apex lies in Lapland. The Melanochroi,
on the other hand, may be represented as a broad band
stretching from Ireland to Hindostan ; while the Xantho-
chroic area lies between the two, thins out, so to speak,
at either end, and mingles, at its margins, with both its
neighbours.

174 CRITIQUES AND ADDRESSES. [vni.

Such is a brief and summary statement of what I
believe to be the chief facts relating to the physical
ethnology of the people of Britain. The conclusions
which 1 draw from these and other facts are — (1) That
the Melanochroi and the Xanthochroi are two separate
races in the biological sense of the word race ; (2) That
they have had the same general distribution as at pre
sent from the earliest times of which any record exists
on the continent of Europe ; (3) That the population
of the British Islands is derived from them, and from
them only.

The people of Europe, however, owe their national
names, not to their physical characteristics, but to their
languages, or to their political relations ; which, it is
plain, need not have the slightest relation to these
characteristics.

Thus, it is quite certain that, in Caesar's time, Gaul
was divided politically into three nationalities — the
Belgse, the Celtse, and the Aquitani ; and that the last
were very widely different, both in language and in
physical characteristics, from the two former. The
Belgce and the Celtse, on the other hand, differed compa
ratively little either in physique or in language. On the
former point there is the distinct testimony of Strabo ;
as to the latter, St. Jerome states that the " Galatians
had almost the same language as the Treviri." Now,
the Galatians were emigrant Volcoe Tectosages, and
therefore Celtaa ; while the Treviri were Belgse.

At the present day, the physical characters of the
people of Belgic Gaul remain distinct from those of
the people of Aquitaine, notwithstanding the immense
changes which have taken place since Caesar's time ;
but Belgae, Celtse, and Aquitani (all but a mere fraction
of the last two, represented by the Basques and the
Britons) are fused into one nationality, " le peuple

VIIL] BRITISH ETHNOLOGY. 175

Fractals." But they have adopted the language of
one set of invaders, and the name of another ; their
original names and languages having almost disappeared.
Suppose that the French language remained as the sole
evidence of the existence of the population of Gaul,
would the keenest philologer arrive at any other con
clusion than that this population was essentially and
fundamentally a "Latin" race, which had had some
communication with Celts and Teutons ? Would he so
much as suspect the former existence of the Aquitani ?

Community of language testifies to close contact
between the people who speak the language, but to
nothing else ; philology has absolutely nothing to do
with ethnology, except so far as it suggests the existence
or the absence of such contact. The contrary assump
tion, that language is a test of race, has introduced the
utmost confusion into ethnological speculation, and has
nowhere worked greater scientific and practical mischief
than in the ethnology of the British Islands.

What is known, for certain, about the languages
spoken in these islands and their affinities may, I believe,
be summed up as follows : —

I. At the time of the Roman conquest, one language ,
the Celtic, under two principal dialectical divisions, the
Cymric and the Gaelic, was spoken throughout the British
Islands. Cymric ivas spoken in Britain, Gaelic in
Ireland.

If a language allied to Basque had in earlier times
been spoken in the British Islands, there is no evidence
that any Euskarian-speaking people remained at the
time of the Eoman conquest. The dark and the fair
population of Britain alike spoke Celtic tongues, and
therefore the name "Celt" is as applicable to the one
as to the other.

What was spoken in Ireland can only be surmised by

176 CRITIQUES AND ADDRESSES. [vm.

reasoning from the knowledge of later times ; but there
seems to be no doubt that it was Gaelic ; and that the
Gaelic dialect was introduced into the Western High
lands by Irish invaders.

II. The Belgce and the Celtce, with the offshoots of the
latter in Asia Minor, spoke dialects of the Cymric
division of Celtic.

The evidence of this proposition lies in the statement
of St. Jerome before cited ; in the similarity of the names
of places in Belgic Gaul and in Britain ; and in the
direct comparison of sundry ancient Gaulish and Belgic
words which have been preserved, with the existing
Cymric dialects, for which I must refer to the learned
work of Brandes.

Formerly, as at the present day, the Cymric dialects of
Celtic were spoken by both the fair and the dark stocks.

III. There is no record of Gaelic being spoken any
where save in Ireland, Scotland, and the Isle of Man.

This appears to be the final result of the long discus
sions which have taken place on this much-debated
question. As is the case with the Cymric dialects,
Gaelic is now spoken by both dark and fair stocks.

IV. When the Teutonic languages first became knoivn,
they were spoken only by Xanthochroi, that is to say, by
the Germans, the Scandinavians, and Goths. And they
were imported by Xanthochroi into Gaul and into
Britain.

In Gaul the imported Teutonic dialect has-been com
pletely overpowered by the more or less modified Latin,
which it found already in possession ; and what Teutonic
blood there may be in modern Frenchmen is not ade
quately represented in their language. In Britain, on
the contrary, the Teutonic dialects have overpowered
the pre-existing forms of speech, and the people are
vastly less " Teutonic " than their language. Whatever

VIIL] BRITISH ETHNOLOGY. 177

may have been the extent to which the Celtic-speaking
population of the eastern half of Britain was trodden
out and supplanted by the Teutonic-speaking Saxons and
Danes, it is quite certain that no considerable displace
ment of the Celtic-speaking people occurred in Cornwall,
AVales, or the Highlands of Scotland ; and that nothing
approaching to the extinction of that people took place
in Devonshire, Somerset, or the western moiety of Britain
generally. Nevertheless, the fundamentally Teutonic
English language is now spoken throughout Britain,
except by an insignificant fraction of the population in
Wales and the Western Highlands. But it is obvious
that this fact affords not the slightest justification for the
common practice of speaking of the present inhabitants
of Britain as an "Anglo-Saxon" people. It is, in fact,
just as absurd as the habit of talking of the French
people as a " Latin " race, because they speak a language
which is, in the main, derived from Latin. And the
absurdity becomes the more patent when those who have
no hesitation in calling a Devonshire man, or a Cornish
man, an "Anglo-Saxon," would think it ridiculous to call
a Tipperary man by the same title, though he and his
forefathers may have spoken English for as long a time
as the Cornish man.

Ireland, at the earliest period of which we have any
knowledge, contained like Britain, a dark and a fair
stock, which, there is every reason to believe, were
identical with the dark and the fair stocks of Britain.
When the Irish first became known they spoke a Gaelic
dialect, and though, for many centuries, Scandinavians
made continual incursions upon, and settlements among
them, the Teutonic languages made no more way among
the Irish than they did among the French. How much
Scandinavian blood was introduced there is no evidence
to show. But after the conquest of Ireland by Henry II.,

178 CRITIQUES AND ADDRESSES. [vm.

the English people, consisting in part of the descendants
of Cymric speakers, and in part of the descendants
of Teutonic speakers, made good their footing in the
eastern half of the island, as the Saxons and Danes m'ade
good theirs in England ; and did their best to complete
the parallel by attempting the extirpation of the Gaelic-
speaking Irish. And they succeeded to a considerable
extent ; a large part of Eastern Ireland is now peopled
by men who are substantially English by descent, and
the English language has spread over the land far beyond
the limits of English blood.

Ethnological ly, the Irish people were originally, like
the people of Britain, a mixture of Melanochroi and
Xanthochroi. They resembled the Britons in speaking
a Celtic tongue ; but it was a Gaelic and not a Cymric
form of the Celtic language. Ireland was untouched by
the Koman conquest, nor do the Saxons seem to have
had any influence upon her destinies, but the Danes and
Norsemen poured in a contingent of Teutonism, which
has been largely supplemented by English and Scotch
efforts.

What, then, is the value of the ethnological difference
between the Englishman of the western half of England
and the Irishman of the eastern half of Ireland ? For
what reason does the one deserve the name of a " Celt,"
and not the other ? And further, if we turn to the
inhabitants of the western half of Ireland, why should
the term " Celts " be applied to them more than to
the inhabitants of Cornwall ? And if the name is appli
cable to the one as justly as to the other, why should
not intelligence, perseverance, thrift, industry, sobriety,
respect for law, be admitted to be Celtic virtues ?
And why should we not seek for the cause of their
absence in something else than the idle pretext of
" Celtic blood 'I "

viii.] BRITISH ETHNOLOGY. 179

I have been unable to meet with any answers to these
questions.

V. The Celtic and the Teutonic dialects are members
ofjhe same great Aryan family of languages ; but there
is evidence to show that a non-Aryan language was at
one time spoken over a large extent of the area occupied
l)ij Melanocliroi in Europe.

The non- Aryan language here referred to is the Euska-
rian, now spoken only by the Basques, but which seems
in earlier times to have been the language of the Aqui-
to,nians and Spaniards, and may possibly have extended
much further to the East. Whether it has any connec
tion with the Ligurian and Oscan dialects are questions
upon which, of course, I do not presume to offer any
opinion. But it is important to remark that it is a
language the area of which has gradually diminished
without any corresponding extirpation of the people
who primitively spoke it ; so that the people of Spain
and of Aquitainc at the present day must be largely
'"Euskarian" by descent in just the same sense as the
Cornish men are-" Celtic" by descent.

Such seem to me to be the main facts respecting the
ethnology of the British islands and of Western Europe,
which may be said to be fairly established. The hypo
thesis by which I think (with De Belloguet and Thurnam)
the facts may best be explained is this : In very remote
times Western Europe and the British islands were
inhabited by the dark stock, or the Melanochroi, alone,
and these Melanochroi spoke dialects allied to the
Euskarian. The Xanthochroi, spreading over the great
Eurasiatic plains westward, and speaking Aryan dialects,
gradually invaded the territories of the Melanochroi.
The Xanthochroi, who thus came into contact with the
Western Melanochroi, spoke a Celtic language ; and that
Celtic language, whether Cymric or Gaelic, spread over
9

180 CRITIQUES AND ADDRESSES. [vm.

the Melanocliroi far beyond the limits of intermixture of
blood, supplanting Euskarian, just as English and French
have supplanted Celtic. Even as early as Caesar's time,
I suppose that the Euskarian was everywhere, except in
Spain and in Aquitaine, replaced by Celtic, and thus the
Celtic speakers were no longer of one ethnological stock,
but of two. Both in "Western Europe and in England
a third wave of language — in the one case Latin, in
the other Teutonic — has spread over the same area. In
"Western Europe, it has left a fragment of the primary
Euskarian in one corner of the country, and a fragment
of the secondary Celtic in another. In the British
islands, only outlying pools of the secondary linguistic
wave remain in Wales, the Highlands, Ireland, and the
Isle of Man. If this hypothesis is a sound one, it
follows that the name of Celtic is not properly appli
cable to the Melanochroic or dark stock of Europe.
They are merely, so to speak, secondary Celts. The
primary and aboriginal Celtic-speaking people are
Xanthochroi — the typical Gauls of the ancient writers,
and the close allies by blood, customs, and language, of
the Germans.

IX.

PALAEONTOLOGY AND THE DOCTRINE OF
EVOLUTION.

(THE ANNIVEESAKY ADDRESS TO THE GEOLOGICAL SOCIETY,
FOR 1870.)

IT is now eight years since, in the absence of the late
Mr. Leonard Horner, who then presided over us, it fell
to my lot, as one of the Secretaries of this Society, to
draw up the customary Annual Address. I availed
myself of the opportunity to endeavour to "take stock"
of that portion of the science of biology which is com
monly called " palaeontology," as it then existed ; and,
discussing one after another the doctrines held by palae
ontologists, I put before you the results of my attempts
to sift the well-established from the hypothetical or the
doubtful. Permit me briefly to recall to your minds
what those results were : —

1. The living population of all parts of the earth's
surface which have yet been examined has undergone a
succession of changes which, upon the whole, have been
of a slow and gradual character.

2. When the fossil remains which are the evidences of
these successive changes, as they have occurred in any
two more or less distant parts of the surface of the earth,
are compared, they exhibit a certain broad and general

182 CRITIQUES AND ADDRESSES. [ix.

parallelism. In other words, certain forms of life in
one locality occur in the same general order of suc
cession as, or are lioinotaxial with, similar forms in the
other locality.

3. Homotaxis is not to be held identical with synchro
nism without independent evidence. It is possible that
similar, or even identical, faunae and florae in two different
localities may be of extremely different ages, if the term
" age " is used in its proper chronological sense. I stated
that "geographical provinces, or zones, may have been as
distinctly marked in the Palaeozoic epoch as at present ;
and those seemingly sudden appearances of new genera
and species, which we ascribe to new creation, may be
simple results of migration."

4. The opinion that the oldest known fossils are the
earliest forms of life has no solid foundation.

5. If we confine ourselves to positively ascertained
facts, the total amount of change in the forms of animal
and vegetable life, since the existence of such forms is re
corded, is small. When compared with the lapse of time
since the first appearance of these forms, the amount
of change is wonderfully small. Moreover, in each great
group of the animal and vegetable kingdoms, there arc
certain forms which I termed PERSISTENT TYPES, which
have remained, with but very little apparent change,
from their first appearance to the present time.

G. In answer to the question "What, then, does an
impartial survey of the positively ascertained truths of
palaeontology testify in relation to the common doctrines
of progressive modification, which suppose that modifi
cation to have taken place by a necessary progress from
more to less embryonic forms, from more to less gene
ralized types, within the limits of the period represented
by the fossiliferous rocks?" I reply, " It negatives these
doctrines ; for it either shows us no evidence of such

ix.] PALEONTOLOGY AND EVOLUTION. 183

modification, or demonstrates such modification as has
occurred to have been very slight ; and, as to the nature
of that modification, it yields no evidence whatsoever
that the earlier members of any long-continued group
were more generalized in structure than the later ones."

I think that I cannot employ my last opportunity of
addressing you, officially, more properly — I may say
more dutifully — than in revising these old judgments
with such help as further knowledge and reflection, and
an extreme desire to get at the truth, may afford me.

1. With respect to the first proposition, I may remark
that whatever may be the case among the physical
geologists, catastrophic palaeontologists are practically
extinct. It is now no part of recognized geological
doctrine that the species of one formation all died out
and were replaced by a brand-new set in the next forma
tion. On the contrary, it is generally, if not universally,
agreed that the succession of life has been the result of
a slow and gradual replacement of sp.ecies by species ;
and that all appearances of abruptness of change are due
to breaks in the series of deposits, or other changes in
physical conditions. The continuity of living forms has
been unbroken from the earliest times to the present day.

2, 3. The use of the word "homotaxis" instead of
" synchronism " has not, so far as I know, found much
favour in the eyes of geologists. I hope, therefore, that
it is a love for scientific caution, and not mere personal
affection for a bantling of my own, which leads me still
to think that the change of phrase is of importance, and
that the sooner it is made, the sooner shall we get rid of
a number of pitfalls which beset the reasoner upon the
facts and theories of geology.

One of the latest pieces of foreign intelligence which
has reached us is the information that the Austrian
geologists have, at last, succumbed to the weighty

184 CRITIQUES AND ADDRESSES. [ix.

evidence which M. Barrande has accumulated, and have
admitted the doctrine of colonies. But the admission
of the doctrine of colonies implies the further ad
mission that even identity of organic remains is no
proof of the . synchronism of the deposits which con
tain them.

4. The discussions touching the Eozoon, which com
menced in 1864, have abundantly justified the fourth
proposition. In 1862, the oldest record of life was in
the Cambrian rocks ; but if the Eozoon be, as Principal
Dawson and Dr. Carpenter have shown so much reason
for believing, the remains of a living being, the discovery
of its true nature carried life back to a period which, as
Sir William Logan has observed, is as remote from that
during which the Cambrian rocks were deposited, as the
Cambrian epoch itself is from the tertiaries. In other
words, the ascertained duration of life upon the globe
was nearly doubled at a stroke.

5. The significance of persistent types, and of the
small amount of change which has taken place even in
those forms which can be shown to have been modified,
becomes greater and greater in my eyes, the longer I
occupy myself with the biology of the past.

Consider how long a time has elapsed since the Miocene
epoch. Yet, at that time, there is reason to believe that
every important group in every order of the Mammalia
was represented. Even the comparatively scanty Eocene
fauna yields examples of the orders Clieiroptera, Insec-
tivora, Rodentia, and Perissodactyla ; of Artiodactyla
under both the Euminant and the Porcine modifications;
of Carnivora, Cetacca, and Marsupialia.

Or, if we go back to the older half of the Mesozoic
epoch, how truly surprising it is to find every order of
the Reptilia, except the Opkidia, represented ; while
some groups, such as the Ornitlioscelida and the Ptero-

ix.j PALEONTOLOGY AND EVOLUTION. 185

sauria, more specialized than any which now exist,
abounded.

There is one division of the Amphibia which offers
especially important evidence upon this point, inasmuch
as it bridges over the gap between the Mesozoic and the
Palaeozoic formations (often supposed to be of such pro
digious magnitude), extending, as it does, from the bottom
of the Carboniferous series to the top of the Trias, if not
into the Lias. I refer to the Labyrinth odonts. As the
address of 1862 was passing through the press, I was
able to mention, in a note, the discovery of a large
Labyrinthodont, with well-ossified vertebrae, in the Edin
burgh coal-field. Since that time eight or ten distinct
genera of Labyrinthodonts have been discovered in the
Carboniferous rocks of England, Scotland, and Ireland,
not to mention the American forms described by Principal
Dawson and Professor Cope. So that, at the present
time, the Labyrinthodont Fauna of the Carboniferous
rocks is more extensive and diversified than that of the
Trias, while its chief types, so far as osteology enables us
to judge, are quite as highly organized. Thus it is certain
that a comparatively highly organized vertebrate type,
such as that of the Labyrinthodonts, is capable of per
sisting, with no considerable change, through the period
represented by the vast deposits which constitute the
Carboniferous, the Permian, and the Triassic formations.

The very remarkable results which have been brought
to light by the sounding and dredging operations, which
have been carried on with such remarkable success by
the expeditions sent out by our own, the American, and
the Swedish Governments, under the supervision of able
naturalists, have a bearing in the same direction. These
investigations have demonstrated the existence, at great
depths in the ocean, of living animals .in some cases
identical with, in others very similar to, those which are

186 CRITIQUES AND ADDRESSES. [ix.

found fossilized in the white chalk. The Globigermce,
Cyatholiths, Coccospheres, Discoliths in the one are abso
lutely identical with those in the other ; there are iden
tical, or closely analogous, species of Sponges, Echino-
derms, and Brachiopods. Off the coast of Portugal,
there now lives a species of Beryx, which, doubtless,
leaves its bones and scales here and there in the
Atlantic ooze, as its predecessor left its spoils in the
mud of the sea of the Cretaceous epoch.

Many years ago1 I ventured to speak of the Atlantic
mud as " modern chalk," and I know of no fact incon
sistent with the view which Professor Wyville Thomson
has advocated, that the modern chalk is not only the
lineal descendant of the ancient chalk, but that it remains,
so to speak, in the possession of the ancestral estate ;
and that from the Cretaceous period (if not much earlier)
to the present day, the deep sea has covered a large part
of what is now the area of the Atlantic. But if Globi-
gerina, and Terebratula caput-serpentis and Ben/x, not
to mention other forms of animals and of plants, thus
bridge over the interval between the present and the
Mesozoic periods, is it possible that the majority of other
living things underwent a "sea-change into something
new and strange " all at once ?

6. Thus far I have endeavoured to expand and to
enforce by fresh arguments, but not to modify in any
important respect, the ideas submitted to you on a
former occasion. But when I come to the propositions
touching progressive modification, it appears to me, with
the help of the new light which has broken from various
quarters, that there is much ground for softening the
somewhat Brutus-like severity with which, in IS 62, I
dealt with a doctrine, for the truth of which I should

1 See an article in the Saturday Review, for 1858, on Cf Chalk, Ancient and
Modern."

ix.] PALEONTOLOGY AND EVOLUTION. 187

Lave been glad enough to be able to find a good foun
dation. So far, indeed, as the Invertebrata and the
lower Vertebrata are concerned, the facts and the con
clusions which are to be drawn from them appear to me
to remain what they were. For anything that, as yet,
appears to the contrary, the earliest known Marsupials
may have been as highly organized as their living con
geners ; the Permian lizards show no signs of inferiority
to those of the present clay ; the Labyrinthoclonts can
not be placed below the living Salamander and Triton ;
1:he Devonian Ganoids are closely related to Polypterus
and to Lepidosiren.

But when we turn to the higher Vertebrata, the results
of recent investigations, however we may sift and criticise
them, seem to me to leave a clear balance in favour of
the doctrine of the evolution of living forms one from
another. Nevertheless, in discussing this question, it is
very necessary to discriminate carefully between the dif
ferent kinds of evidence from fossil remains which are
brought forward in favour of evolution.

Every fossil which takes an intermediate place between
forms of life already known, may be said, so far as it is
intermediate, to be evidence in favour of evolution, inas
much as it shows a possible road by which evolution
may have taken place. But the mere discovery of such
a form does not, in itself, prove that evolution took place
by and through it, nor does it constitute more than
presumptive evidence in favour of evolution in general.
Suppose A, B, C to be three forms, while B is inter
mediate in structure between A and C. Then the doctrine
of evolution offers four possible alternatives. A may
have become C by way of B ; or C may have become A
by way of B ; or A and C may be independent modifi
cations of B ; or A, B, and C may be independent modifi
cations of some unknown D. Take the case of the Pigs,

188 CRITIQUES AND ADDRESSES. [ix.

the Anoplotheridce, and the Euminants. The Anoplo-
theridw are intermediate between the first and the last ;
but this does not tell us whether the Euminants have
come from the Pigs, or the Pigs from Euminants, or both
from Anoploiheridce, or whether Pigs, Euminants, and
Anoplotlieridce alike may not have diverged from
some common stock.

But if it can be shown that A, B, and C exhibit suc
cessive stages in the degree of modification, or speciali
zation, of the same type ; and if, further, it can be proved
that they occur in successively newer deposits, A being
in the oldest and C in the newest, then the intermediate
character of B has quite another importance, and I should
accept it, without hesitation, as a link in the genealogy
of C. I should consider the burden of proof to be
thrown upon anyone who denied C to have been derived
from A by way of B, or in some closely analogous fashion ;
for it is always probable that one may not hit upon the
exact line of filiation, and, in dealing with fossils, may
mistake uncles and nephews for fathers and sons.

I think it necessary to distinguish between the former
and the latter classes of intermediate forms, as intercalary
types and linear types. When I apply the former term,
I merely mean to say that as a matter of fact, the form
B, so named, is intermediate between the others, in the
sense in which the Anoplotlierium is intermediate between
the Pigs and the Euminants — without either affirming,
or denying, any direct genetic relation between the three
forms involved. When I apply the latter term, on the
other hand, I mean to express the opinion that the forms
A, B, and C constitute a line of descent, and that B is
thus part of the lineage of C.

From the time when Cuvier's wonderful researches
upon the extinct Mammals of the Paris gypsum first made
intercalary types known, and caused them to be recognized

ix.] PALAEONTOLOGY AND E

as such, the number of such forms In
among the higher Mammalia. Not only do we now
know numerous intercalary forms of Ungulata, but M.
Gaudry's great monograph upon the fossils of Pikermi
(which strikes me as one of the most perfect pieces of
palaeontological work I have seen for a long time) shows
us, among the Primates, Mesopitliecus as an intercalary
form between the Semnopitheci and the Macaci ; and
among the Carnivora, Hycenictis and Ictitherium as
intercalary, or, perhaps, linear types between the Viver-
TidcB and the Hycenidce.

Hardly any order of the higher Mammalia stands so
apparently separate and isolated from the rest as that
of the Cetacea ; though a careful consideration of the
structure of the pinnipede Carnivora, or Seals, shows,
in them, many an approximation towards the still more
completely marine mammals. The extinct Zeuglodon,
however, presents us with an intercalary form between
the type of the Seals and that of the "Whales. The
skull of this great Eocene sea-monster, in fact, shows
by the narrow and prolonged interorbital region ; the
extensive union of the parietal bones in a sagittal suture;
the well-developed nasal bones ; the distinct and large
incisors implanted in premaxillary bones, which take a
full share in bounding the fore part of the gape ; the
two-fanged molar teeth with triangular and serrated
crowns, not exceeding five on each side in each jaw ;
and the existence of a deciduous dentition — its close
relation with the Seals. While, on the other hand, the
produced rostral form of the snout, the long symphysis,
and the low coronary process of the mandible are ap
proximations to the cetacean form of those parts.

The scapula resembles that of the cetacean Hyperoodon,
but the supra-spinous fossa is larger and more seal-like ;
as is the humerus, which differs from that of the Cetacea

190 CRITIQUES AND ADDRESSES. [ix.

in presenting true articular surfaces for the free jointing
of the bones of the fore-arm. In the apparently com
plete absence of hinder limbs, and in the characters of
the vertebral column, the Zeuglodon lies on the cetacean
side of the boundary line ; so that, upon the whole, the
Zeuglodonts, transitional as they are, are conveniently
retained in the cetacean order. And the publication, in
1864, of M. Van Beneden's memoir on the Miocene and
Pliocene Squalodon, furnished much better means than
anatomists previously possessed of fitting in another
link of the chain which connects the existing Cetacea
with Zeuglodon. The teeth are much more numerous,
although the molars exhibit the zeuglodont double fang ;
the nasal bones are very short, and the upper surface of
the rostrum presents the groove, filled up during life by
the prolongation of the ethmoidal cartilage, which is so
characteristic of the majority of the Cetacea.

It appears to me that, just as among the existing
Carnivora, the walruses and the eared seals are inter
calary forms between the fissipede Carnivora and the
ordinary seals, so the Zeuglodonts arc intercalary between
the Carnivora, as a whole, and the Cetacea. Whether
the Zeuglodonts are also linear types in their relation to
these two groups cannot be ascertained, until we have
more definite knowledge than we possess at present,
respecting the relations in time of the Carnivora arid
Cetacea.

Thus for we have been concerned with the intercalary
types which occupy the intervals between Families or
Orders of the same class ; but the investigations which
have been carried on by Professor Gegenbaur, Professor
Cope, and myself into the structure and relations of the
extinct reptilian forms of the Ornitlwscelida (or Dino-
sauria and Compsognatha) have brought to light the
existence of intercalary forms between what have hitherto

ix.] PALEONTOLOGY AND EVOLUTION. 191

been always regarded as very distinct classes of the
vertebrate sub-kingdom, namely Reptilia and Aves.
Whatever inferences may, or may not, be drawn from
the fact, it is now an established truth that, in many
of these Ornithoscelida, the hind limbs and the pelvis
are much more similar to those of Birds than they are
to those of Keptiles, and that these Bird-reptiles, or
Bep tile-birds, were more or less completely bipedal.

When I addressed you in 1862, I should have been
bold indeed had I suggested that palaeontology would
before long show us the possibility of a direct transition
from the type of the lizard to that of the ostrich. At
the present moment we have, in the Ornithoscelida, the
intercalary type, which proves that transition to be
something more than a possibility ; but it is very doubt
ful whether any of the genera of Ornithoscelida with
•which we are at present acquainted are the actual linear
types by which the transition from the lizard to the bird
was effected. These, very probably, are still hidden from
as in the older formations.

Let us now endeavour to find some cases of true
linear types, or forms which are intermediate between
others because they stand in a direct genetic relation to
them. It is no easy matter to find clear and unmis
takable evidence of filiation among fossil animals ; for,
in order that such evidence should be quite satisfactory,
it is necessary that we should be acquainted with all
the most important features of the organization of the
animals which are supposed to be thus re]ated, and not
merely with the fragments upon which the genera and
species of the palaeontologist are so often based. M.
Gaudry has arranged the species of Hycenidce, Probos-
cidea, Rhino cerotidce, and MguidcB in their order of
filiation from their earliest appearance in the Miocene
epoch to the present time, and Professor Eiitimeyer has

192 CRITIQUES AND ADDRESSES. [ix.

drawn up similar schemes for the Oxen and other
Ungulata — with what, I am disposed to think, is a fair
and probable approximation to the order of nature. But,
as no one is better aware than these tAVO learned, acute,
and philosophical biologists, all such arrangements must
be regarded as provisional, except in those cases in
which, by a fortunate accident, large series of remains
are obtainable from a thick and wide-spread series of
deposits. It is easy to accumulate probabilities — hard
to make out some particular case in such a way that it
will stand rigorous criticism.

After much search, however, I think that such a
case is to be made out in favour of the pedigree of
the Horses.

The genus Equus is represented as far back as the
latter part of the Miocene epoch ; but in deposits
belonging to the middle of that epoch its place is
taken by two other genera, Hipparion and Anclii-
therium'j1 and, in the lowest Miocene and upper Eocene,
only the last genus occurs. A species of Anchitherium
was referred by Cuvier to the Palceotheria under the
name of P. aurelianense. The grinding-teeth are in fact
very similar in shape and in pattern, and in the absence
of any thick layer of cement, to those of some species
of Palczotherium, especially Cuvier's Palceotherium minus,
which has been formed into a separate genus, Plagio-
lophus, by Pomel. But in the fact that there are only
six full-sized grinders in the lower jaw, the first premolar
being very small ; that the anterior grinders are as large

1 Hermann von Meyer gave the name si Anchitherium to A. Ezyucrrte; and
in his paper on the subject he takes great pains to distinguish the latter as the
type of a new genus, from Cuvier's Paltcotherium d* Orleans. But it is precisely
the Palteotherium d'Orleans which is the type of Christol's genus Hippari-
theriam ; and thus, though Hipparitherium is of later date than A)ichithennmt
it seemed to me to have a sort of equitable right to recognition when this
address was written. On the whole, however, it seems most convenient to
adopt Anchitherium.

ix.] PALAEONTOLOGY AND EVOLUTION. 193

as, or rather larger than, the posterior ones ; that the
second premolar has an anterior prolongation ; and that
the posterior molar of the lower jaw has, as Cuvier
pointed out, a posterior lobe of much smaller size and
different form, the dentition of Anchitherium departs
from the type of the Palceotherium, and approaches
that of the Horse.

Again, the skeleton of Anchitherium is extremely
equine. M. Christol goes so far as to say that the
description of the bones of the horse, or the ass, current
in veterinary works, would fit those of Anchitherium.
And, in a general way, this may be true enough ; but
there are some most important differences, which, indeed,
are justly indicated by the same careful observer. Thus
the ulna is complete throughout, and its shaft is not a
mere rudiment, fused into one bone with the radius.
There are three toes, one large in the middle and one
small on each side. The femur is quite like that of a
horse, and has the characteristic fossa above the external
condyle. In the British Museum there is a most in
structive specimen of the leg-bones, showing that the
fibula was represented by the external malleolus and by
a flat tongue of bone, which extends up from it on the
outer side of the tibia, and is closely ankylosed with the
latter bone.1 The hind toes are three, like those of the
fore leg ; and the middle metatarsal bone is much less
compressed from side to side than that of the horse.

In the Hipparion the teeth nearly resemble those of
the Horses, though the crowns of the grinders are not
so long ; like those of the Horses, they are abundantly
coated with cement. The shaft of the ulna is reduced

1 I am indebted to M. Gervais for a specimen which indicates that the fibula
was complete, at any rate, in some cases ; and for a very interesting ramus of a
mandible, which shows that, as in the Pal<Botheriat the hindermost milk -molar
of the lower jaw was devoid of the posterior lobe which exists in the hindermost
true molar.

194 CEITIQUES AND ADDRESSES. [ix.

to a mere style ankylosed throughout nearly its whole
length with the radius, and appearing to be little more
than a ridge on the surface of the latter bone until it is
carefully examined. The front toes are still three, but
the outer ones are more slender than in Anchitherium,
and their hoofs smaller in proportion to that of the
middle toe : they are, in fact, reduced to mere dew-
claws, and do not touch the ground. In the leg, the
distal end of the fibula is so completely united with the
tibia that it appears to be a mere process of the latter
bone, as in the Horses.

In Equus, finally, the crowns of the grinding-teeth
become longer, and their patterns are slightly modified ;
the middle of the shaft of the ulna usually vanishes, and
its proximal and distal ends ankylose with the radius.
The phalanges of the two outer toes in each foot dis
appear, their metacarpal and metatarsal bones being left
as the " splints."

The Ilipparion has large depressions on the face in
front of the orbits, like those for the " larmiers " of many
ruminants ; but traces of these are to be seen in some
of the fossil horses from the Sewalik Hills ; and, as
Leidy's recent researches show, they are preserved in
Anchitherium.

When we consider these facts, and the further circum
stance that the Hipparions, the remains of which have
been collected in immense numbers, were subject, as
M. Gaudry and others have pointed out, to a great
range of variation, it appears to me impossible to resist
the conclusion that the types of the Anchitherium, of
the Hipparion, and of the ancient Horses constitute the
lineage of the modern Horses, the Hipparion being the
intermediate stage between the other two, and answer
ing to B in my former illustration.

The process by which the Anchitherium has been con-

ix.l PALEONTOLOGY AND EVOLUTION. 195

verted into Equus is one of specialization, or of more and
more complete deviation from what might be called the
average form of an ungulate mammal. In the Horses,
ths reduction of some parts of the limbs, together with
the special modification of those which are left, is carried
to a greater extent than in any other hoofed mammals.
The reduction is less and the specialization is less in
the Hipparion, and still less in the Anchitherium ; but
yet, as compared with other mammals, the reduction
and specialization of parts in the Anchitherium remain
great.

Is it not probable then, that, just as in the Miocene
epoch, wre find an ancestral equine form less modified
than Equus, so, if we go back to the Eocene epoch, we
shall find some quadruped related to the Anchitherium,
as Hipparion is related to Equus, and consequently
departing less from the average form ?

I think that this desideratum is very nearly, if not
cuite, supplied by Plarjioloplms, remains of which occur
abundantly in some parts of the Upper and Middle
Eocene formations. The patterns of the grinding-teeth
of Plagiolophus are similar to those of Anchitherium, and
their crowns are as thinly covered with cement ; but the
grinders diminish in size forwards, and the last lower
molar has a large hind lobe, convex outwards and concave
inwards, as in Palwotherium. The ulna is complete and
much larger than in any of the Equidcz, while it is more
slender than in most of the true PalcBotheria ; it is
fixedly united, but not ankylosed, with the radius.
There are three toes in the fore limb, the outer ones
being slender, but less attenuated than in the Equidce.
The femur is more like that of the Palceotheria than that
of the horse, and has only a small depression above its
outer condyle in the place of the great fossa wrhich is so
obvious in the Equidce. The fibula is distinct, but very

196 CRITIQUES AND ADDRESSES. [ix.

slender, and its distal end is ankylosed with the tibia.
There are three toes on the hind foot having similar pro
portions to those on the fore foot. The principal meta-
carpal and metatarsal bones are flatter than they are in
any of the Equidce ; and the metacarpal bones are longer
than the metatarsals, as in the Palceotheria.

In its general form, Plagiolophus resembles a very
small and slender horse,1 and is totally unlike the
reluctant, pig-like creature depicted in Cuvier's resto
ration of his PalcBOtherium minus in the " Ossemens
Fossiles."

It would be hazardous to say that Plagiolophus is the
exact radical form of the Equine quadrupeds ; but I do
not think there can be any reasonable doubt that the
latter animals have resulted from the modification of
some quadruped similar to Plagiolophus.

We have thus arrived at the Middle Eocene formation,
and yet have traced back the Horses only to a three-toed
stock ; but these three-toed forms, no less than the Equine
quadrupeds themselves, present rudiments of the two
other toes which appertain to what I have termed the
"average" quadruped. If the expectation raised by the
splints of the Horses that, in some ancestor of the Horses,
these splints would be found to be complete digits, has
been verified, we are furnished with very strong reasons
for looking for a no less complete verification of the
expectation that the three-toed Plagiolophus~\ikQ "avus"
of the horse must have had a five-toed " atavus " at some
earlier period.

No such five-toed " atavus," however, has yet made its
appearance among the few middle and older Eocene
Mammalia which are known.

1 Such, at least, is the conclusion suggested by the proportions of the skeleton
figured by Cuvier and De Blainvillc ; but perhaps something between a Horse
and an Agouti would be nearest the mark.

ix.] PALAEONTOLOGY AND EVOLUTION. 197

Another series of closely affiliated forms, though the
evidence they afford is perhaps less complete than that
of the Equine series, is presented to us by the Dicho-
~bune of the Eocene epoch, the Cainotherium of the
Miocene, and the Tragulidce, or so-called " Musk-deer/'
of the present day.

The Tragulidce have no incisors in the upper jaw, and
only six grinding-teeth on each side of each jaw ; while
the canine is moved up to the outer incisor, and there is
a diastema, in the lower jaw. There are four complete
toes on the hind foot, but the middle metatarsals usually
beaome, sooner or later, ankylosed into a cannon bone.
TLe navicular and the cuboid unite, and the distal end
of the fibula is ankylosed with the tibia.

In Cainotherium and Dicliobune the upper incisors are
fully developed. There are seven grinders ; the teeth
form a continuous series without a diastema. The meta
tarsals, the navicular and cuboid, and the distal end of
the fibula, remain free. In the Cainotherium, also, the
second metacarpal is developed, but is much shorter than
tLe third, while the fifth is absent or rudimentary. In
this respect it resembles Anoplotherium secundarium.
This circumstance, and the peculiar pattern of the upper
molars in Cainotherium, lead me to hesitate in considering
it as the actual ancestor of the modern Tragulidce. If
Dicliobune has a four-toed fore foot (though I am inclined
to suspect that it resembles Cainotherium), it will be a
better representative of the oldest forms of the Traguline
series; but Dichobune occurs in the Middle Eocene,
and is, in fact, the oldest known artiodactyle mammal.
Where, then, must we look for its five-toed ancestor ?

If we follow down other lines of recent and tertiary
Ungulata, the same question presents itself. The Pigs
are traceable back through the Miocene epoch to the
Upper Eocene, where they appear in the two well-marked

198 CRITIQUES AND ADDRESSES. [rx,

forms of Hyopotamus and Chceropotamus ; but Ilyo-
potamus appears to have had only two toes.

Again, all the great groups of the Buminants, the
Bovidce, Antilopidce, Camelopardalidce, and Ccrvidce,
are represented in the Miocene epoch, and so are the
Camels. The Upper Eocene Anoplotherium, which is in
tercalary between the Pigs and the Tragulidce, has only
two or, at most, three toes. Among the scanty mammals
of the Lower Eocene formation we have the perisso-
dactyle Ungulata represented by Coryphodon, Hyra-
cotherium, and Pliolophus. Suppose for a moment, for
the sake of following out the argument, that Pliolophus
represents the primary stock of the Perissodactyles, and
Dichobune that of the Artiodactylcs (though 1 am far
from saying that such is the case), then we find, in the
earliest fauna of the Eocene epoch to which our investiga
tions carry us, the two divisions of the Ungulata com
pletely differentiated, and no trace of any common stock
of both, or of five-toed predecessors to either. With the
case of the Horses before us, justifying a belief in the
production of new animal forms by modification of old
ones, I see no escape from the necessity of seeking for
these ancestors of the Ungulata beyond the limits of the
Tertiary formations.

I could as soon admit special creation, at once, as
suppose that the Perissodactyles and Artiodactyles had
no five-toed ancestors. And when we consider how large
a portion of the Tertiary period elapsed before Anchi-
therium was converted into Equus, it is difficult to escape
the conclusion that a large proportion of time anterior to
the Tertiary period must have been expended in convert
ing the common stock of the Ungulata into Perisso
dactyles and Artiodactyles.

The same moral is inculcated by the study of every
other order of Tertiary monodelphous Mammalia. Each

ix. 1 PALAEONTOLOGY AND EVOLUTION. 109

of these orders is represented in the Miocene epoch :
the Eocene formation, as I have already said, contains
Cheiroptera, Insectivora, JRodentia, Ungulata, Carnivora,
and Cetacea. But th.e Cheiroptera are extreme modifica
tions of the Insectiwra, just as the Cetacea are extreme
modifications of the Carnivorous type ; and therefore it
is to my mind incredible that monodelphous Insecti
vora and Carnivora should not have been abundantly
developed, along with Ungulata, in the Mesozoic epoch.
But if this be the case, how much further back must
\ve go to find the common stock of the monodelphous
Mammalia ? As to the Didelphia, if we may trust the
c \ddence which seems to be afforded by their very scanty
remains, a Hypsiprymnoicl form existed at the epoch of
the Trias, contemporaneously with a Carnivorous form. At
the epoch of the Trias, therefore, the Marsiipialia must
have,, already existed long enough to have become differ
entiated into carnivorous and herbivorous forms. But
the Monotremata are lower forms than the Didelphia,
which last are intercalary between the Ornithodelphia
and the Monodelphia, To what point of the Palaeozoic
epoch, then, must we, upon any rational estimate, rele
gate the origin of the Monotremata ?

The investigation of the occurrence of the classes
and of the orders of the Sauropsida in time points in
exactly the same direction. If, as there is great reason
to believe, true Birds existed in the Triassic epoch, the
ornithoscelidous forms by which Keptiles passed into
Birds must have preceded them. In fact there is, even
at present, considerable ground for suspecting the exist
ence of Dinosauria in the Permian formations ; but, in
that case, lizards must be of still earlier date. And if
the very small differences which are observable between
the Crocodilia of the older Mesozoic formations and
those of the present day furnish any sort of approxi-

200 CRITIQUES AND ADDRESSES. [ix.

matiou towards an estimate of the average rate of change
among the Sauropsida, it is almost appalling to reflect
how far back in Palaeozoic times we must go, before we
can hope to arrive at that common stock from which
the Crocodilia, Lacertilia, Ornithoscelida, and Plesio-
sauria, which had attained so great a development in
the Triassic epoch, must have been derived.

The Amphibia and Pisces tell the same story. There
is not a single class of vertebrated animals which, when
it first appears, is represented by analogues of the lowest
known members of the same class. Therefore, if there is
any truth in the doctrine of evolution, every class must
be vastly older than the first record of its appearance
upon the surface of the globe. But if considerations of
this kind compel us to place the origin of vertebrated
animals at a period sufficiently distant from the Upper
Silurian, in which the first Elasmobranchs and Ganoids
occur, to allow of the evolution of such fishes as these
from a Vertebrate as simple as the Amphioxus, I can
only repeat that it is appalling to speculate upon the
extent to which that origin must have preceded the
epoch of the first recorded appearance of vertebrate life.

Such is the further commentary which I have to offer
upon the statement of the chief results of palaeontology
which I formerly ventured to lay before you.

But the growth of knowledge in the interval makes
me conscious of an omission of considerable moment in
that statement, inasmuch as it contains no reference to
the bearings of palaeontology upon the theory of the
distribution of life ; nor takes note of the remarkable
manner in which the facts of distribution, in present
and past times, accord with the doctrine of evolution,
especially in regard to land animals.

That connection between palaeontology and geology

ix.] PALAEONTOLOGY AND EVOLUTION. 201

and the present distribution of terrestrial animals, which
so strikingly impressed Mr. Darwin, thirty years ago, as
to lead him to speak of a " law of succession of types/'
and of the wonderful relationship on the same continent
between the dead and the living, has recently received
much elucidation from the researches of Gaudry, of
Elitimeyer, of Leidy, and of Alphonse Milne-Edwards,
taken in connection with the earlier labours of our
lamented colleague Falconer; and it has been instruc
tively discussed in the thoughtful and ingenious work of
Mr. Andrew Murray " On the Geographical Distribution
of Mammals." x

I propose to lay before you, as briefly as I can, the
ideas to which a long consideration of the subject has
given rise in my own mind.

If the doctrine of evolution is sound, one of its imme
diate consequences clearly is, that the present distribu
tion of life upon the globe is the product of two factors,
the one being the distribution which obtained in the
immediately preceding epoch, and the other the character
r.nd the extent of the changes which have taken place in
physical geography between the one epoch and the other ;
or, to put the matter in another way, the Fauna and Flora
of any given area, in any given epoch, can consist only
of such forms of life as are directly descended from those
which constituted the Fauna and Flora of the same area
in the immediately preceding epoch, unless the physical
geography (under which I include climatal conditions)
of the area has been so altered as to give rise to immi
gration of living forms from some other area.

1 The paper "On the Eorm and Distribution of the Land-tracts during the
Secondary and Tertiary Periods respectively ; and on the Effect upon Animal
Life which great Changes in Geographical Configuration have probably pro
duced," by Mr. Searles V. Wood, jun., which was published in the Philoso
phical Magazine, in 1862, was unknown to me when this Address was written.
It is well worthy of the most careful study.

202 CRITIQUES AND ADDRESSES. [ix.

The evolutionist, therefore, is bound to grapple with
the following problem whenever it is clearly put before
him : — Here are the Faun.se of the same area during
successive epochs. Show good cause for believing
either that these Faunse have been derived from one
another by gradual modification, or that the Faunae
have reached the area in question by migration from
some area in which they have undergone their deve
lopment.

I propose to attempt to deal with this problem, so far
as it is exemplified by the distribution of the terrestrial
Vertebrata, and I shall endeavour to show you that ''it is
capable of solution in a sense entirely favourable to the
doctrine of evolution.

I have elsewhere1 stated at length the reasons which
lead me to recognize four primary distributional provinces
for the terrestrial Vertebrata in the present world, namely,
— first, the Novozelanian, or New-Zealand province ;
secondly, the Australian province, including Australia,
Tasmania, and the Negrito Islands ; thirdly, Austro-
Columbia, or South America plus North America as far
as Mexico ; and fourthly, the rest of the world, or Arc-
togcea, in which province America north of Mexico con
stitutes one sub-province, Africa south of the Sahara a
second, Hindostan a third, and the remainder of the Old
World a fourth.

Now the truth which Mr. Darwin perceived and pro.-
mulgated as "the law of the succession of types" is,
that, in all these provinces, the animals found in Plio
cene or later deposits are closely affined to those which
now inhabit the same provinces ; and that, conversely,
the forms characteristic of other provinces are absent.
North and South America, perhaps, present one or

1 "On the Classification and Distribution of the Alcctoromorphce ; " Proceed
ings of the Zoological Society. 18G8.

ix.] PALEONTOLOGY AN$ EVpLUTlON. 203

two exceptions to the last rule, mt€-^z^ar^ readily
susceptible of explanation. Thus, in Australia, the
later Tertiary mammals are marsupials (possibly with
exception of the Dog and a Eoclent or two, as at
present). In Austro-Colurnbia the later Tertiary fauna
exhibits numerous and varied forms of Platyrrhine Apes,
Eodents, Cats, Dogs, Stags, Edentata, and Opossums ;
but, as at present, no Catarrhine Apes, no Lemurs, no
Tnsectivora, Oxen, Antelopes, Ehinoceroses, nor Didel-
pliia other than Opossums. And in the wide-spread
Arctogaeal province, the Pliocene and later mammals
belong to the same groups as those which now exist in
the province. The law of succession of types, therefore,
holds good for the present epoch as compared with its
predecessor. Does it equally well apply to the Pliocene
fauna when we compare it with that of the Miocene
epoch ? By great good fortune, an extensive mammalian
fauna of the latter epoch has now become known, in four
very distant portions of the Arctogseal province which
do not differ greatly in latitude. Thus Falconer and
Cautley have made known the fauna of the sub-Hima
layas and the Perim Islands ; Gaudry that of Attica ;
many observers that of Central Europe and France ;
and Leidy that of Nebraska, on the eastern flank of
the Eocky Mountains. The results are very striking.
The total Miocene fauna comprises many genera, and
species of Catarrhine Apes, of Bats, of Insectivora ; of
Arctogaeal types of Rodentia; of Proboscidea; of equine,
rhinocerotic, and tapirine quadrupeds ; of cameline,
bovine, antilopine, cervine, and traguline Euminants ; of
Pigs and Hippopotamuses ; of ViverridcB and HycenidcB
among other Carnivora; with Edentata allied to the
Arctogaeal Orycteropus and Manis, and not to the
Austro-Columbian Edentates. The only type present
in the Miocene, but absent in the existing, fauna of
10

204 CRITIQUES AND ADDRESSES. [ix.

Eastern Arctogaea, is that of the DidelphidcB, which,
however, remains in North America.

But it is very remarkable that while the Miocene fauna
of the Arctogseal province, as a whole, is of the same
character as the existing fauna of the same province,
as a whole, the component elements of the fauna were
differently associated. In the Miocene epoch, North
America possessed Elephants, Horses, Ehinoceroses,
and a great number and variety of Euminants and
Pigs, which are absent in the present indigenous
fauna ; Europe had its Apes, Elephants, Ehinoceroses,
Tapirs, Musk-deer, Giraffes, Hyaenas, great Cats, Eden
tates, and Opossum-like Marsupials, which have equally
vanished from its present fauna ; and in Northern India,
the African types of Hippopotamuses, Giraffes, and Ele
phants were mixed up with what are now the Asiatic
types of the latter, and with Camels, and Semnopithe-
cine and Pithecine Apes of no less distinctly Asiatic
forms.

In fact the Miocene mammalian fauna of Europe and
the Himalayan regions contains, associated together, the
types which are at present separately located in the
South-African and Indian sub-provinces of Arctogaea.
Now there is every reason to believe, on other grounds,
that both Hindostan, south of the Ganges, and Africa,
south of the Sahara, were separated by a wide sea from
Europe and North Asia during the Middle and Upper
Eocene epochs. Hence it becomes highly probable that
the well-known similarities, and no less remarkable dif
ferences, between the present Faunae of India and South
Africa have arisen in some such fashion as the following.
Some time during the Miocene epoch, possibly when the
Himalayan chain was elevated, the bottom of the num-
mulitic sea was upheaved and converted into dry land,
in the direction of a line extending from Abyssinia to

ix.] PALAEONTOLOGY AND EVOLUTION. 205

the mouth of the Ganges. By this means, the Dekhan
on the one hand, and South Africa on the other, became
connected with the Miocene dry land and with one
another. The Miocene mammals spread gradually over
this intermediate dry land ; and if the condition of its
eastern and western ends offered as wide contrasts as
the valleys of the Ganges and Arabia do now, many
forms which made their way into Africa must have
been different from those which reached the Dekhan,
while others might pass into both these sub-provinces.

That there was a continuity of dry land between
Europe and North America during the Miocene epoch,
appears to me to be a necessary consequence of the fact
that many genera of terrestrial mammals, such as Castor,
Hystrix, JElephas, Mastodon, Equus, ffipparion, Anchi-
therium, Rhinoceros, Cervus, Ampliicyon, Hycenarctos,
and Machairodus, are common to the Miocene forma-
tions of the two areas, and have as yet been found
(except perhaps Anchitherium) in no deposit of earlier
age. "Whether this connection took place by the east,
or by the west, or by both sides of the Old World,
there is at present no certain evidence, and the question
is immaterial to the present argument ; but, as there are
good grounds for the belief that the Australian province
and the Indian and South- African sub-provinces were
separated by sea from the rest of Arctogoea before the
Miocene epoch, so it has been rendered no less probable,
by the investigations of Mr. Carrick Moore and Pro
fessor Duncan, that Austro-Columbia was separated by
sea from North America during a large part of the
Miocene epoch.

It is unfortunate that we have no knowledge of the
Miocene mammalian fauna of the Australian and Austro-
Columbian provinces ; but, seeing that not a trace of a
Platyrrhine Ape, of a Procyonine Carnivore, of a charac-

20G CRITIQUES AND ADDRESSES. [ix.

teristically South -American Rodent, of a Slotli, an Arma
dillo, or an Ant-eater has yet been found in Miocene
deposits of Arctogrea, I cannot doubt that they already
existed in the Miocene Austro-Columbian province.

Nor is it less probable that the characteristic types of
Australian Mammalia were already developed in that
region in Miocene times.

But Austro-Columbia presents difficulties from which
Australia is free ; CamelidcB and TapiridcB are now
indigenous in South America as they are in Arctogsea ;
and, among the Pliocene Austro-Columbian mammals,
the Austro-Columbian genera Equus, Mastodon, and
Machairodus are numbered. Are these Postmiocene
immigrants, or Prsemiocene natives ?

Still more perplexing are the strange and interesting
forms Toxodon, Macrauchenia, Typotherium, and a
new Anoplotherioid. mammal (Ilomalodotherium) which
Dr. Cunningham sent over to me some time ago from
Patagonia. I confess I am strongly inclined to surmise
that these last, at any rate, are remnants of the popula
tion of Austro-Columbia before the Miocene epoch, and
were not derived from Arctogaea by way of the north
and east.

The fact that this immense fauna of Miocene Arctogsea
is now fully and richly represented only in India and in
South Africa, while it is shrunk and depauperized in
North Asia, Europe, and North America, becomes at once
intelligible, if we suppose that India and South Africa
had but a scanty mammalian population before the
Miocene immigration, while the conditions were highly
favourable to the new comers. It is to be supposed that
these new regions offered themselves to the Miocene
Ungulates, as South America and xlustralia offered them
selves to the cattle, sheep, and horses of modern colonists.
But, after these great areas were thus peopled, came the

is. j PALEONTOLOGY AND EVOLUTION. 297

Glacial epoch, during which the excessive cold, to say
nothing of depression and ice-covering, must have almost
depopulated all the northern parts of Arctogaea, destroy
ing all the higher mammalian forms, except those which,
like the Elephant and Ehinoceros, could adjust their
coats to the altered conditions. Even these must have
been driven away from the greater part of the area ; only
those Miocene mammals which had passed into Hin-
dostan and into South Africa would escape decimation
by such changes in the physical geography of Arctogaea.
And when the northern hemisphere passed into its
present condition, these lost tribes of the Miocene Fauna
were hemmed by the Himalayas, the Sahara, the Eed Sea,
and the Arabian deserts, within their present boundaries.
Now, on the hypothesis of evolution, there is no sort
of difficulty in admitting that the differences between the
Miocene forms of the mammalian Fauna and those which
exist at present are the results of gradual modification ;
and, since such differences in distribution as obtain are
readily explained by the changes which have taken place
in the physical geography of the world since the Miocene
epoch, it is clear that the result of the comparison of the
Miocene and present Faunae is distinctly in favour of
evolution. Indeed I may go further. I may say that
the hypothesis of evolution explains the facts of Miocene,
Pliocene, and Recent distribution, and that no other
supposition even pretends to account for them. It is,
indeed, a conceivable supposition that every species of
Khinoceros and every species of Hysena, in the long
succession of forms between the Miocene and the present
species, was separately constructed out of dust, or out
of nothing, by supernatural power ; but until I receive
distinct evidence of the fact, I refuse to run the risk of
insulting any sane man by supposing that he seriously
holds such a notion.

208 CRITIQUES AND ADDRESSES. [ix.

Let us now take a step further back in time, and
inquire into the relations between the Miocene Fauna
and its predecessor of the Upper Eocene formation.

Here it is to be regretted that our materials for forming
a judgment are nothing to be compared in point of extent
or variety with those which are yielded by the Miocene
strata. However, what we do know of this Upper Eocene
Fauna of Europe gives sufficient positive information to
enable us to draw some tolerably safe inferences. It has
yielded representatives of Insectivora, of Cheiroptera,
of Rodentia, of Carnivora, of artiodactyle and perisso-
dactyle Ungulata, and of opossum-like Marsupials. No
Australian type of Marsupial has been discovered in the
Upper Eocene strata, nor any Edentate mammal. The
genera (except perhaps in the case of some of the Insecti-
vora, Cheiroptera, and Rodentid) are different from those
of the Miocene epoch, but present a remarkable general
similarity to the Miocene and recent genera. In several
cases, as I have already shown, it has now been clearly
made out that the relation between the Eocene and
Miocene forms is such that the Eocene form is the less
specialized ; while its Miocene ally is more so, and the
specialization reaches its maximum in the recent forms
of the same type.

So far as the Upper Eocene and the Miocene Mamma
lian Faunae are comparable, their relations are such as in
no way to oppose the hypothesis that the older are the
progenitors of the more recent forms, while, in some
cases, they distinctly favour that hypothesis. The period
in time and the changes in physical geography repre
sented by the nummulitic deposits are undoubtedly very
great, while the remains of Middle Eocene and Older
Eocene Mammals are comparatively few. The general
facics of the Middle Eocene Fauna, however, is quite
that of the Upper. The Older Eocene pre-numniulitic

ix.] PALEONTOLOGY AND EVOLUTION. 209

mammalian Fauna contains Bats, two genera of Carni-
vora, three genera of Ungulata (probably all perisso-
clactyle), and a didelphid Marsupial ; all these forms,
except perhaps the Bat and the Opossum, belong to
genera which are not known to occur out of the Lower
Eocene formation. The Coryphodon appears to have
been allied to the Miocene and later Tapirs, while Pliolo-
phus, in its skull and dentition, curiously partakes of
both artiodactyle and perissodactyle characters ; the
third trochanter upon its femur, and its three-toed hind
loot, however, appear definitely to fix its position in the
latter division.

There is nothing, then, in what is known of the older
Eocene mammals of the Arctogoeal province to forbid
the supposition that they stood in an ancestral relation
to those of the Calcaire Grossier and the Gypsum of
the Paris basin, and that our present fauna, therefore,
is directly derived from that which already existed in
Arctogoea at the commencement of the Tertiary period.
But if we now cross the frontier between the Caino-
zoic and the Mesozoic faunae, as they are preserved
within the Arctogoeal area, we meet with an astound
ing change, and what appears to be a complete and
unmistakable break in the line of biological continuity.

Among the twelve or fourteen species of Mammalia
which are said to have been found in the Purbecks, not
one is a member of the orders Cheiroptera, Rodentia,
Ungulata, or Carnivora, which are so well represented
in the Tertiaries. No Insectivora are certainly known,
nor any opossum-like Marsupials. Thus there is a vast
negative difference between the Cainozoic and the Meso
zoic mammalian faunse of Europe. But there is a still
more important positive difference, inasmuch as all these
Mammalia appear to be Marsupials belonging to Aus
tralian groups, and thus appertaining to a different

210 CRITIQUES AND ADDRESSES. [ix.

distributional province from the Eocene and Miocene
marsupials, which are Austro-Columbian. So far as the
imperfect materials which exist enable a judgment to be
formed, the same law appears to have held good for all
the earlier Mesozoic Mammalia. Of the Stonesfield
slate mammals, one, Amphitherium, has a definitely
Australian character ; one, Phascolotherium, may be
either Dasyurid or Didelphine ; of a third, Stereognathus,
nothing can at present be said. The two mammals of
the Trias, also, appear to belong to Australian groups.

Every one is aware of the many curious points of
resemblance between the marine fauna of the European
Mesozoic rocks and that which now exists in Australia.
But if there was this Australian facies about both the
terrestrial and the marine faunas of Mesozoic Europe,
and if there is this unaccountable and immense break
between the fauna of Mesozoic and that of Tertiary
Europe, is it not a very obvious suggestion that, in the
Mesozoic epoch, the Australian province included Europe,
and that the Arctogaeal province was contained within
other limits ? The Arctogaeal province is at present
enormous, while the Australian is relatively small. Why
should not these proportions have been different durino1
the Mesozoic epoch ?

Thus I am led to think that by far the simplest and
most rational mode of accounting for the great change
which took place in the living inhabitants of the European
area at the end of the Mesozoic epoch, is the supposition
that it arose from a vast alteration of the physical
geography of the globe ; whereby an area long tenanted
by Cainozoic forms was brought into such relations with
the European area that migration from the one to the
other became possible, and took place on a great scale.

This supposition relieves us, at once, from, the difficulty
in which we were left, some time ago, by the arguments

ix.] PALEONTOLOGY AND EVOLUTION. 211

which I used to demonstrate the necessity of the existence
of all the great types of the Eocene epoch in some ante
cedent period.

It is this Mesozoic continent (which may well have
lain in the neighbourhood of what are now the shores of
the North Pacific Ocean) which I suppose to have been
occupied by the Mesozoic Monodelpliia ; and it is in this
region that I conceive they must have gone through the
long series of changes by which they wrere specialized
into the forms which we refer to different orders. I
think it very probable that what is now South America
may have received the characteristic elements of its
mammalian fauna during the Mesozoic epoch ; and there
can be little doubt that the general nature of the change
which took place at the end of the Mesozoic epoch in
Europe was the upheaval of the eastern and northern
regions of the Mesozoic sea-bottom into a westward
extension of the Mesozoic continent, over which the
mammalian fauna, by which it was already peopled,
gradually spread. This invasion of the land was prefaced
by a previous invasion of the Cretaceous sea by modern
forms of mollusca and fish.

It is easy to imagine how an analogous change might
come about in the existing world. There is, at present,
a great difference between the fauna of the Polynesian
Islands and that of the west coast of America. The
animals which are leaving their spoils in the deposits
now forming in these localities are widely different.
Hence, if a gradual shifting of the deep sea, which at
present bars migration between the easternmost of these
islands and America, took place to the westward, while
the American side of the sea-bottom was gradually
upheaved, the palaeontologist of the future would find,
over the Pacific area, exactly such a change as I am
supposing to have occurred in the North-Atlantic area

212 CRITIQUES AND ADDRESSES. [tx.

at the close of the Mesozoic period. An Australian
fauna would be found underlying an American fauna,
and the transition from the one to the other would be as
abrupt as that between the Chalk and lower Tertiaries ;
and as the drainage-area of the newly formed extension
of the American continent gave rise to rivers and lakes,
the mammals mired in their mud would differ from those
of like deposits on the Australian side, just as the Eocene
mammals differ from those of the Purbecks.

How do similar reasonings apply to the other great
change of life — that which took place at the end of the
Palaeozoic period ?

In the Triassic epoch, the distribution of the dry land
and of terrestrial vertebrate life appears to have been,
generally, similar to that which existed in the Mesozoic
epoch ; so that the Triassic continents and their faunae
seem to be related to the Mesozoic lands and their faunae,
just as those of the Miocene epoch are related to those of
the present day. In fact, as I have recently endeavoured
to prove to the Society, there was an Arctogseal continent
and an Arctogoeal province of distribution in Triassic
times as there is now ; and the Sauropsida and Marsu-
pialia which constituted that fauna were, I doubt not,
the progenitors of the Sauropsida and Marsupialia of
the whole Mesozoic epoch.

Looking at the present terrestrial fauna of Australia,
it appears to me to be very probable that it is essentially
a remnant of the fauna of the Triassic, or even of an
earlier, age ; ] in which case Australia must at that
time have been in continuity with the Arctogceal
continent.

But now comes the further inquiry, Where was the

1 Since this Address was read, Mr. Krefft lias sent us news of the discovery
in Australia of a freshwater fish of strangely Palocozoic aspect, and apparently
a Ganoid intermediate between Diptcrus and Lepidosiren.

ix.] PALAEONTOLOGY AND EVOLUTION. 213

highly differentiated Sauropsidan fauna of the Trias in
Palaeozoic times ? The supposition that the Dinosaurian,
Crocodilian, Dicynodontian, and Plesiosaurian types
were suddenly created at the end of the Permian epoch
may be dismissed, without further consideration, as a
monstrous and unwarranted assumption. The supposi
tion that all these types were rapidly differentiated out
of Lacertilia, in the time represented by the passage
from the Palaeozoic to the Mesozoic formation, appears
to me to be hardly more credible, to say nothing of the
indications of the existence of Dinosaurian forms in the
Permian rocks which have already been obtained.

For my part, I entertain no sort of doubt that the
Reptiles, Birds, and Mammals of the Trias are the
direct descendants of Eeptiles, Birds, and Mammals
which existed in the latter part of the Palaeozoic epoch,
but not in any area of the present dry land which has
yet been explored by the geologist.

This may seem a bold assumption, but it will not
appear unwarrantable to those who reflect upon the very
small extent of the earth's surface which has hitherto
exhibited the remains of the great Mammalian fauna of
the Eocene times. In this respect, the Permian land
Vertebrate fauna appears to me to be related to the
Triassic much as the Eocene is to the Miocene. Terres
trial reptiles have been found in Permian rocks only in
three localities ; in some spots of France, and recently
of England, and over a more extensive area in Germany.
Who can suppose that the few fossils yet found in these
regions give any sufficient representation of the Permian
fauna ?

It may be said that the Carboniferous formations
demonstrate the existence of a vast extent of dry
land in the present dry-land area, and that the sup
posed terrestrial Palaeozoic Vertebrate Fauna ought to

214 CRITIQUES AND ADDRESSES. [ix.

have left its remains in the Coal-measures, especially as
there is now reason to believe that much of the coal was
formed by the accumulation of spores and sporangia on
dry land. But if we consider the matter more closely,
I think that this apparent objection loses its force. It is
clear that, during the Carboniferous epoch, the vast area
of land which is now covered by Coal-measures must
have been undergoing a gradual depression. The dry
land thus depressed must, therefore, have existed, as
such, before the Carboniferous epoch — in other words,
in Devonian times — and its terrestrial population may
never have been other than such as existed during the
Devonian, or some previous epoch, although much higher
forms may have been developed elsewhere.

Again, let me say that I am making no gratuitous
assumption of inconceivable changes. It is clear that
the enormous area of Polynesia is, on the whole, an area
over which depression has taken place to an immense
extent ; consequently a great continent, or assemblage
of subcontinental masses of land, must have existed at
some former time, and that at a recent period, geologically
speaking, in the area of the Pacific. But if that con
tinent had contained Mammals, some of them must have
remained to tell the tale ; and as it is well known that
these islands have no indigenous Mammalia, it is safe
to assume that none existed. Thus, midway between
Australia and South America, each of which possesses an
abundant and diversified mammalian fauna, a mass of
land, which may have been as large as both put together,
must have existed without a mammalian inhabitant.
Suppose that the shores of this great land were fringed,
as those of tropical Australia are now, with belts of
mangroves, which would extend landwards on the one
side, and be buried beneath littoral deposits on the other
side, as depression went on ; and great beds of mangrove

is.] PALEONTOLOGY AND EVOLUTION. 215

lignite might accumulate over the sinking land. Let

o o o

upheaval of the whole now take place, in such a manner
as to bring the emerging land into continuity with the
South-American or Australian continent, and, in course
cf time, it would be peopled by an extension of the
fauna of one of these two regions — just as I imagine
the European Permian dry land to have been peopled.

I see nothing whatever against the supposition that
distributional provinces of terrestrial life existed in the
Devonian epoch, inasmuch as M. Barrande has proved
~hat they existed much earlier. I am aware of no reason
for doubting that, as regards the grades of terrestrial
life contained in them, one of these may have been
related to another as New Zealand is to Australia, or as
Australia is to India, at the present day. Analogy seems
to me to be rather in favour of, than against, the sup
position that while only Ganoid fishes inhabited the fresh
waters of our Devonian land, Amphibia and Reptilia,
or even higher forms, may have existed, though we have
not yet found them. The earliest Carboniferous Amphi
bia now known, such as Antliracosaurus, are so highly
specialized that I can by no means conceive that they
have been developed out of piscine forms in the interval
between the Devonian and the Carboniferous- periods,
considerable as that is. And I take refuge in one of
two alternatives : either they existed in our own area
during the Devonian epoch and we have simply not yet
found them ; or they formed part of the population of
some other distributional province of that day, and only
entered our area by migration at the end of the Devonian
epoch. "Whether Reptilia and Mammalia existed along
with them is to me, at present, a perfectly open question,
which is just as likely to receive an affirmative as a
negative answer from future inquirers.

Let me now gather together the threads of my argu-

216 CRITIQUES AND ADDRESSES. [ix.

mentation into the form of a connected hypothetical
view of the manner in which the distribution of living
and extinct animals has been brought about.

I conceive that distinct provinces of the distribution
of terrestrial life have existed since the earliest period at
which that life is recorded, and possibly much earlier ;
and I suppose, with Mr. Darwin, that the progress of
modification of terrestrial forms is more rapid in areas
of elevation than in areas of depression. I take it to be
certain that Labyrinthodont Amphibia existed in the
distributional province which included the dry land
depressed during the Carboniferous epoch ; and I con
ceive that, in some other distributional provinces of that
day, which remained in the condition of stationary or of
increasing dry land, the various types of the terrestrial
Sauropsida and of the Mammalia were gradually
developing.

The Permian epoch marks the commencement of a
new movement of upheaval in our area, which attained
its maximum in the Triassic epoch, when dry land existed
in North America, Europe, Asia, and Africa, as it does
now. Into this great new continental area the Mammals,
Birds, and Eeptiles developed during the Palaeozoic epoch
spread, and formed the great Triassic Arctogaeal province.
But, at the end of the Triassic period, the movement of
depression recommenced in our area, though it was
doubtless balanced by elevation elsewhere ; modification
and development, checked in the one province, went on
in that " elsewhere ; " and the chief forms of Mammals,
Birds, and Eeptiles, as we know them, were evolved and
peopled the Mesozoic continent. I conceive Australia to
have become separated from the continent as early as the
end of the Triassic epoch, or not much later. The Meso
zoic continent must, I conceive, have lain to the east,
about the shores of the North Pacific and Indian Oceans ;

ix.] PALEONTOLOGY AND EVOLUTION. 217

and I am inclined to believe that it continued along the
eastern side of the Pacific area to what is now the province
of Austro-Columbia, the characteristic fauna of which is
probably a remnant of the population of the latter part
of this period.

Towards the latter part of the Mesozoic period the
movement of upheaval around the shores of the Atlantic
once more recommenced, and was very probably accom
panied by a depression around those of the Pacific. The
Vertebrate fauna elaborated in the Mesozoic continent
moved westward and took possession of the new lands,
which gradually increased in extent up to, and in some
directions after, the Miocene epoch.

It is in favour of this hypothesis, I think, that it is
consistent with the persistence of a general uniformity
in. the positions of the great masses of land and water.
From the Devonian period, or earlier, to the present day,
the four great oceans, Atlantic, Pacific, Arctic, and Ant
arctic, may have occupied their present positions, and
only their coasts and channels of communication have
undergone an incessant alteration. And, finally, the
hypothesis I have put before you requires no supposition
that the rate of change in organic life has been either
greater or less in ancient times than it is now ; nor any
assumption, either physical or biological, which has not
its justification in analogous phenomena of existing
nature.

I have now only to discharge the last duty of my
office, which is to thank you, not only for the patient
attention with wThich you have listened to me so long to
day, but also for the uniform kindness with which, for
the past two years, you have rendered my endeavours
to perform the important, and often laborious, functions
of your President a pleasure instead of a burden.

X.

MR. DARWIN'S CRITICS.1

THE gradual lapse of time has now separated us by more
than a decade from the date of the publication of the
" Origin of Species " — and whatever may be thought or
said about Mr. Darwin's doctrines, or the manner in
which he has propounded them, this much is certain,
that, in a dozen years, the " Origin of Species " has
worked as complete a revolution in biological science as
the "Principia" did in astronomy — and it has done so,
because, in the words of Helmholtz, it contains "an
essentially new creative thought/'2

Arid as time has slipped by, a happy change has come
over Mr. Darwin's critics. The mixture of ignorance
and insolence which, at first, characterized a large pro
portion of the attacks with which he was assailed, is no
longer the sad distinction of anti-Darwinian criticism.
Instead of abusive nonsense, which merely discredited its
writers, we read essays, which are, at worst, more or less

1 1. "Contributions to the Theory of Natural Selection." By A. E.
Wallace. 1870.— 2. " The Genesis of Species." By St. George Mivart, F.R.S.
Second Edition. 1871. — 3. " Darwin's Descent of Man." Quarterly Review,
July 1871.

2 Helmholtz : " Ueber das Ziel und die Fortschritte der Naturwissenschaft."
Ei'offnmiffsrede fur die Natnrforscherversammlung zu Innsbruck. 1860.

x.] MB. DARWIN'S CRITICS. 219

intelligent and appreciative ; while, sometimes, like that
which appeared in the North British Review for 18 67,
they have a real and permanent value.

The several publications of Mr. Wallace and Mr.
Mivart contain discussions of some of Mr. Darwin's
views, which are worthy of particular attention, not only
on account of the acknowledged scientific competence
of these writers, but because they exhibit an attention
to those philosophical questions which underlie all
physical science, which is as rare as it is needful.
And the same may be said of an article in the Quarterly
Review for July 1871, the comparison of which with
an article in the same Review for July 1860, is perhaps
the best evidence which can be brought forward of the
change wThich has taken place in public opinion on
" Darwinism."

The Quarterly Reviewer admits " the certainty of the
action of natural selection ;; (p. 49); and further allows
that there is an a priori probability in favour of the
evolution of man from some lower animal form, if these
lower animal forms themselves have arisen by evolution.

Mr. Wallace and Mr. Mivart go much further than
this. They are as stout believers in evolution as Mr.
Darwin himself; but Mr. Wallace denies that man can
have been evolved from a lower animal by that process
of natural selection which he, with Mr. Darwin, holds
to have been sufficient for the evolution of all animals
below man ; while Mr. Mivart, admitting that natural
selection has been one of the conditions of the evolution
of the animals below man, maintains that natural selec
tion must, even in their case, have been supplemented
by " some other cause " — of the nature of which, un
fortunately, he docs not give us any idea. Thus Mr.
Mivart is less of a Darwinian than Mr. Wallace, for he
has less faith in the power of natural selection. But he

220 CRITIQUES AND ADDRESSES. [x.

is more of an evolutionist than Mr. Wallace, because
Mr. Wallace thinks it necessary to call in an intelligent
agent — a sort of supernatural Sir John Sebright — to pro
duce even the animal frame of man ; while Mr. Mivart
requires no Divine assistance till he comes to man's soul.

Thus there is a considerable divergence between Mr.
Wallace and Mr. Mivart. On the other hand, there are
some curious similarities between Mr. Mivart and the
Quarterly Eeviewer, and these are sometimes so close,
that, if Mr. Mivart thought it worth while, I think he
might make out a good case of plagiarism against the
lleviewer, who studiously abstains from quoting him.

Both the Eeviewer and Mr. Mivart reproach Mr.
Darwin with being, " like so many other physicists,"
entangled in a radically false metaphysical system, and
with setting at nought the first principles of both
philosophy and religion. Both enlarge upon the neces
sity of a sound philosophical basis, and both, I venture
to add, make a conspicuous exhibition of its absence.
The Quarterly Eeviewer believes that man " differs more
from an elephant or a gorilla than do these from
the dust of the earth on which they tread," and Mr.
Mivart has expressed the opinion that there is more dif
ference between man and an ape than there is between
an ape and a piece of granite.1

And even when Mr. Mivart (p. 86) trips in a matter of
anatomy, and creates a difficulty for Mr. Darwin out of
a supposed close similarity between the eyes of fishes
and cephalopods, which (as Gegenbaur and others have
clearly shown) does not exist, the Quarterly Eeviewer
adopts the argument without hesitation (p. 6G).

There is another important point, however, in which it
is hard to say whether Mr. Mivart diverges from the
Quarterly Eeviewer or not.

1 See the Tablet for March 11, 1871.

x.] MR. DARWIN ^S CRITICS. 221

The Eeviewer declares that Mr. Darwin has, " with
needless opposition, set at nought the first principles of
both philosophy and religion " (p. 90).

It looks, at first, as if this meant, that Mr. Darwin's
views being false, the opposition to " religion " which
flows from them must be needless. But I suspect this
is not the right view of the meaning of the passage, as
Mr. Mivart, from whom the Quarterly Eeviewer plainly
draws so much inspiration, tells us that " the conse
quences which have been drawn from evolution, whether
exclusively Darwinian or not, to the prejudice of
religion, by no means follow from it, and are in fact
illegitimate" (p. 5).

I may assume, then, that the Quarterly Reviewer and
Mr. Mivart admit that there is no necessary opposition
between "evolution, whether exclusively Darwinian or
not," and religion. But then, what do they mean by
this last much-abused term ? On this point the Quarterly
Reviewer is silent. Mr. Mivart, on the contrary, is
perfectly explicit, and the whole tenor of his remarks
leaves no doubt that by " religion " he means theology ;
and by theology, that particular variety of the great
Proteus, which is expounded by the doctors of the
Roman Catholic Church, and held by the members of
that religious community to be the sole form of absolute
truth and of saving faith.

According to Mr. Mivart, the greatest and most ortho
dox authorities upon matters of Catholic doctrine agree
in distinctly asserting " derivative creation" or evolution ;
"and thus their teachings harmonize with all that modern
science can possibly require" (p. 305).

I confess that this bold assertion interested me more
than anything else in Mr. Mivart's book. What little
knowledge I possessed of Catholic doctrine, and of the
influence exerted by Catholic authority in former times,

222 CRITIQUES AND ADDRESSES. [x,

had nob led me to expect that modern science was likely
to find a warm welcome within the pale of the greatest
and most consistent of theological organizations.

And my astonishment reached its climax when I found
Mr. Mivart citing Father Suarez as his chief witness in
favour of the scientific freedom enjoyed by Catholics —
the popular repute of that learned theologian and subtle
casuist not being such as to make his works a likely place
of refuge for liberality of thought. But in these days,
when Judas Iscariot and Robespierre, Henry VIII. and
Catiline, have all been shown to be men of admirable
virtue, far in advance of their age, and consequently the
victims of vulgar prejudice, it was obviously possible
that Jesuit Suarez might be in like case. And, spurred
by Mr. Mivart' s unhesitating declaration, I hastened to
. acquaint myself with such of the works of the great
Catholic divine as bore upon the question, hoping, not
merely to acquaint myself with the true teachings of the
infallible Church, and free myself of an unjust prejudice ;
but, haply, to enable myself, at a pinch, to put some
Protestant bibliolater to shame, by the bright example of
Catholic freedom from the trammels of verbal inspiration.

I regret to say that my anticipations have been cruelly
disappointed. But the extent to which my hopes have
been crushed can only be fully appreciated by citing, in
the first place, those passages of Mr. Mivart's work by
which they were excited. In his introductory chapter I
find the following passages : —

" The prevalence of this theory [of evolution] need
alarm no one, for it is, without any doubt, perfectly con
sistent with the strictest and most orthodox Christian1
theology" (p. 5).

" Mr. Darwin and others may perhaps be excused if they

1 It should be observed that Mr. Mivart employs the term "Christian" as if
it were the equivalent of " Catholic."

x.] MR. DARWIWS CRITICS. 223

have not devoted much, time to the study of Christian
philosophy ; but they have no right to assume or accept
without careful examination, as an unquestioned fact,
that in that philosophy there is a necessary antagonism
between the two ideas ' creation ' and * evolution/ as
applied to organic forms.

"It is notorious and patent to all who choose to
seek, that many distinguished Christian thinkers have
accepted, and do accept, both ideas, i.e. both ' creation '
and 'evolution/

" As much as ten years ago an eminently Christian
writer observed : * The creationist theory does not
necessitate the perpetual search after manifestations of
miraculous power and perpetutil "catastrophes." Crea
tion is not a miraculous interference with the laws of
nature, but the very institution of those laws. Law and
regularity, not arbitrary intervention, was the patristic
ideal of creation. "With this notion they admitted,
without difficulty, the most surprising origin of living
creatures, provided it took place by law. They held
that when God said, " Let the waters produce," " Let the
earth produce/' He conferred forces on the elements of
earth and water, which enabled them naturally to pro
duce the various species of organic beings. This power,
they thought, remains attached to the elements through
out all time/ The same writer quotes St. Augustin and
St. Thomas Aquinas, to the effect that, ' in the institution
of nature, we do not look for miracles, but for the laws
of nature/ And, again, St. Basil speaks of the con
tinued operation of natural laws in the production of all

organisms.

" So much for the writers of early and mediaeval times.
As to the present day, the author can confidently affirm
that there are many as well versed in theology as Mr.
Darwin is in his own department of natural knowledge,

224 CRITIQUES AND ADDRESSES. [x.

who would not be disturbed by the thorough demon
stration of his theory. Nay, they would not even be
in the least painfully affected at witnessing the genera
tion of animals of complex organization by the skilful
artificial arrangement of natural forces, and the pro
duction, in the future, of a fish by means analogous to
those by which we now produce urea.

" And this because they know that the possibility of
such phenomena, though by no means actually foreseen,
has yet been fully provided for in the old philosophy
centuries before Darwin, or even centuries before Bacon,
and that their place in the system can be at once as
signed them without even disturbing its order or marring
its harmony.

" Moreover, the old tradition in this respect has never
been abandoned, however much it may have been ignored
or neglected by some modern writers. In proof of this, it
may be observed that perhaps no post-mediaeval theologian
has a wider reception amongst Christians throughout the
world than Suarez, who has a separate section 1 in op
position to those who maintain the distinct creation of
the various kinds — or substantial forms — of organic life "
(pp. 19-21).

Still more distinctly does Mr. Mivart express himself,
in the same sense, in his last chapter, entitled " Theology
and Evolution" (pp. 302-5).

" It appears, then, that Christian thinkers are perfectly
free to accept the general evolution theory. But are
there any theological authorities to justify this view of
the matter 1

"Now, considering how extremely recent are these
biological speculations, it might hardly be expected d
priori that writers of earlier ages should have given
expression to doctrines harmonizing in any degree with

1 Suarez, Metaphysica. Edition Yives. Paris, 1868, vol. i. Disput. xv. § 2.

x.] MR DARWIN'S CRITICS. 225

such very modern views ; nevertheless, this is certainly
the case, and it would be easy to give numerous examples.
It will be better, however, to cite one or two authorities
of weight. Perhaps no writer of the earlier Christian
ages could be quoted whose authority is more generally
recognized than that of St. Augustin. The same may be
said of the mediaeval period for St. Thomas Aquinas :
and since the movement of Luther, Suarez may be taken
as an authority, widely venerated, and one whose ortho
doxy has never been questioned.

" It must be borne in mind that for a considerable
time even after the last of these writers no one had
disputed the generally received belief as to the small
age of the world, or at least of the kinds of animals
and plants inhabiting it. It becomes, therefore, much
more striking if views formed under such a condition of
opinion are found to harmonize with modern ideas con
cerning l Creation ' and organic Life.

O O

" Now St. Augustin insists in a very remarkable
manner on the merely derivative sense in which God's
creation of organic forms is to be understood ; that is,
that God created them by conferring on the material
world the power to evolve them under suitable con
ditions."

Mr. Mivart then cites certain passages from St. Au
gustin, St. Thomas Aquinas, and Cornelius a Lapicle,
and finally adds : — -

" As to Suarez, it will be enough to refer to Disp. xv. sec. 2, No. 9,
p. 508, t. i. edition Vives, Paris; also JSTos. 13 — 15. Many other
references to the same effect could easily be given, but these may
suffice.

" It is then evident that ancient and most venerable theMogical
authorities distinctly assert derivative creation, and thus their teach
ings harmonize with all that modern science can possibly require."

It will be observed that Mr. Mivart refers solely to

226 CRITIQUES AND ADDRESSES. [x.

Suarez's fifteenth Disputation, though he adds, " Many
other references to the same effect could easily be given."
I shall look anxiously for these references in the third
edition of the " Genesis of Species." For the present, all
I can say is, that I have sought in vain, either in the
fifteenth Disputation, or elsewhere, for any passage in
Suarez's writings which, in the slightest degree, bears
out Mr. Mivart's views as to his opinions.1

The title of this fifteenth Disputation is " De causa
formal! substantial!," and the second section of that
Disputation (to which Mr. Mivart refers) is headed,
" Quomodo possit forma substantialis fieri in materia et
ex materia 1 "

The problem which Suarez discusses in this place may
be popularly stated thus : According to the scholastic
philosophy every natural body has two components —
the one its "matter" (materia prima),the other its
" substantial form " (forma substantialis). Of these
the matter is everywhere the same, the matter of one
body being indistinguishable from the matter of any
other body. That which differentiates any one natural
body from all others is its substantial form, which
inheres in the matter of that body, as the human soul
inheres in the matter of the frame of man, and is the
source of all the activities and other properties of the
body.

Thus, says Suarez, if water is heated, and the source
of heat is then removed, it cools again. The reason
of this is that there is a certain "intindus principium"
in the water, which brings it back to the cool condition
when the external impediment to the existence of that
condition is removed. This intimius principium is the
" substantial form " of the water. And the substantial

1 The edition of Suarez's " Disputationes " from which the following citations
are giveu, is Birckmann's, in two volumes folio, and is dated 1630.

x.J MR. DARWIN^ 8 CRITICS. 227

form of tlie water is not only the cause (radix) of the
coolness of the water, but also of its moisture, of its
density, and of all its other properties.

It will thus be seen that "substantial forms " play nearly
the same part in the scholastic philosophy as " forces "
do in modern science ; the general tendency of modern
thought being to conceive all bodies as resolvable into
material particles and forces, in virtue of which last
these particles assume those dispositions and exercise
those powers which are characteristic of each particular
kind of matter.

But the Schoolmen distinguished two kinds of sub-
stantial forms, the one spiritual and the other material.
The former division is represented by the human soul,
the anima rationalis ; and they affirm as a matter, not
merely of reason, but of faith, that every human soul
is created out of nothing, and by this act of creation
is endowed with the power of existing for all eternity,
apart from the materia prima of which the corporeal
frame of man is composed. And the anima rationalis,
once united with the materia prima of the body, be
comes its substantial form, and is the source of all the
powers and faculties of man — of all the vital and sen
sitive phenomena which he exhibits — just as the sub
stantial form of water is the source of all its qualities.

The " material substantial forms " are those which
inform all other natural bodies except that of man ; and
the object of Suarez in the present Disputation, is to
show that the axiom " ex niliilo nihil Jit" though not
true of the substantial form of man, is true of the
substantial forms of all other bodies, the endless muta
tions of which constitute the ordinary course of nature.
The origin of the difficulty which he discusses is easily
comprehensible. Suppose a piece of bright iron to be

exposed to the air. The existence of the iron depends
11

228 CRITIQUES AND ADDRESSES. [x.

on the presence within it of a substantial form, which
is the cause of its properties, e.g. brightness, hardness,
weight. Bat, by degrees, the iron becomes converted
into a mass of rust, which is dull, and soft, and light,
and, in all other respects, is quite different from the iron.
As, in the scholastic view, this difference is due to
the rust being informed by a new substantial form,
the grave problem arises, how did this new substan
tial form come into being ? Has it been created ?
or has it arisen by the power of natural causation ?
If the former hypothesis is correct, then the axiom,
" ex nihilo nihil fit" is false, even in relation to the
ordinary course of nature, seeing that such mutations
of matter as imply the continual origin of new
substantial forms are occurring every moment. But
the harmonization of Aristotle with theology was as
dear to the Schoolmen, as the smoothing down the dif
ferences between Moses and science is to our Broad
Churchmen, arid they were proportionally unwilling to
contradict one of Aristotle's fundamental propositions.
Nor was their objection to flying in the face of the
Stagirite likely to be lessened by the fact that such
flight landed them in flat Pantheism.

So Father Suarez fights stoutly for the second hypo
thesis ; and I quote the principal part of his argumen
tation as an exquisite specimen of that speech which is
a " darkening of counsel."

" 13. Secundo cle omnibus aliis formis substantial ibus [so. mate
rial ibus] dicendum cst non fieri proprie ex nihilo, sed ex potentia
prsejacentis materiee educi : ideoque in effectione harum fornmrum nil
fieri contra illud axioma, Ex nihilo nihil fit, si recte intelligatur. Hoec
assertio sumitur ex Aristotele 1. Physicorum per totum et libro 7.
Motaphyss. et ex aliis authoribus, quos statim referam. Et declarator
breviter, nam fieri ex nihilo duo dicit, unum est fieri absolute et
sitnpliciter, aliud est quod talis effectio fit ex nihilo. Primum proprid
dicitur de re subsistente, quia ejus est fieri, cujus est esse : id autem

x.] MR. DARWIN'S CRITICS. 229

proprie quod subsistit et habet esse : nam quod alter! adjacet, potius est
quo aliud est. Ex hac ergo parte, formse substantiales materiales non
fiunt ex nihilo, quia proprie non fiunt. Atque hauc rationem reddit
Divus Thomas 1 parte, queestione 45, articulo 8, et qusestione 90,
articulo 2, et ex diceudis magis explicabitur. Sumendo ergo ipsum
fieri in hac proprietate et rigore, sic fieri ex nihilo est fieri secuudum se
totum, id est nulla sui parte praesupposita, ex quo fiat. Et hac ratione
res naturales dum de novo fiunt, non fiunt ex nihilo, quia fiunt ex
pnesupposita materia, ex qua componuntur, et ita non fiunt, secundum
se totse, sed secundum aliquid sui. Formse autem harum rerum,
quamvis revera totam suam entitatem de novo accipiant, quam antea
non habebant, quia vero ipsse non fiunt, ut dictum est, ideo neque ex
nihilo fiunt. Attamen, quia latiori modo sumendo verbum illud fieri
negari non potest : quin forma facta sit, eo modo quo mine est, et antea
non erat, ut etiam probat ratio dubitandi posita in principio sectionis,
ideo addendum est, sumptoj^m in hac amplitudine, fieri ex nihilo non
tamen negare habitudinem materialis causse intrinsece components id
quod fit, sed etiam habitudinem causoe materialis per se causantis et
sustentantis formam quce fit, seu confit. Diximus enim in superioribus
materiam et esse causam compositi et formae dependentis ab ilia : ut res
ergo dicatur ex nihilo fieri uterque modus causalitatis negari debet ; et
eodem sensu accipiendum est illud axioma, ut sit verum : Ex nihilo
nihil fit, scilicet virtute agentis naturalis et finiti nihil fieri, nisi ex
pnesupposito subjecto per se concurrente, et ad compositum et ad
formam, si utrumque suo modo ab eodem agente fiat. Ex his ergo
recte concluditur, formas substantiales materiales non fieri ex nihilo,
quia fiunt ex materia, quce in suo genere per se concurrit, et influit ad
esse, et fieri talium formurum ; quia, sicut esse non possunt nisi affixse
materias, a qua sustententur in esse : ita nee fieri possunt, nisi earum
effectio et penetratio in eadem materia sustentetur. Et haec estpropria
et per se differentia inter effectionem ex nihilo, et ex aliquo, propter
quam, nt infra ostendemus, prior modus efficiendi superat vim finitam
naturaliam agentium, non vero posterior.

" 14. Ex his etiam constat, proprie de his formis dici non creari, sed
educi de potentia materise."1

If I may venture to interpret these hard sayings,
Suarez conceives that the evolution of substantial forms
in the ordinary course of nature, is conditioned not only
by the existence of the materia prima, but also by a
certain " concurrence and influence " which that materia

1 Suarcz, loc. cit. Dispul. xv. § ii.

230 CRITIQUES AND ADDRESSES. [x.

exerts ; and every new substantial form being thus
conditioned, and in part, at any rate, caused, by a
pre-existing something, cannot be said to be created
out of nothing.

But as the whole tenor of the context shows, Suarez
applies this argumentation merely to the evolution of
material substantial forms in the ordinary course of
nature. How the substantial forms of animals and
plants primarily originated, is a question to which, so far
as I am able to discover, he does not so much as allude
in his " Metaphysical Disputations." Nor was there any
necessity that he should do so, inasmuch as he has
devoted a separate treatise of considerable bulk to the
discussion of all the problems which arise out of the
account of the Creation which is given in the Book of
Genesis. And it is a matter of wonderment to me that
Mr. Mivart, who somewhat sharply reproves "Mr.
Darwin and others " for not acquainting themselves with
the true teachings of his Church, should allow himself to
be indebted to a heretic like myself for a knowledge of
the existence of that " Tractatus de opere sex Dierum,"1
in which the learned Father, of whom he justly speaks,
as " an authority widely venerated, and whose orthodoxy
has never been questioned/' directly opposes all those
opinions, for which Mr. Mivart claims the shelter of his
authority.

In the tenth and eleventh chapters of the first book
of this treatise, Suarez inquires in what sense the word
"day," as employed in the first chapter of Genesis, is
to be taken. He discusses the views of Philo and of
Augustin on this question, and rejects them. He
suggests that the approval of their allegorizing inter-

1 " Tractatus de opere sex Dierum, sen de Universi Creatione, quatenus sex
diebus ncrfecta esse, in libro Genesis cap. i. refertur, et prsesertira de produc-
tione liominis in stutu innocentise." Ed. Birckmann, 1C22.

x.] ME. DARWIHT8 CRITICS. 231

pretations by St. Thomas Aquinas, merely arose out of
St. Thomas's modesty, and his desire not to seem openly
to controvert St. Augustin — " voluisse Divus Thomas pro
sua modestia subtcrfugere vim argumenti potius quam
aperte Augustimim inconstantly arguere."

Finally, Suarez decides that the writer of Genesis
meant that the term "day" should be taken in its
natural sense ; and he winds up the discussion with the
very just and natural remark that " it is not probable
that God, in inspiring Moses to write a history of the
Creation which was to be believed by ordinary people,
would have made him use language, the true meaning
of which it is hard to discover, and still harder to
believe." l

And in chapter xii. 3, Suarez further observes :—

" Ratio enim retinendi vcram significationem diei natu rails est ilia
communis, quod verba Scripturoe non sunt ad metaphoras transferenda,
nisi vel necessitas cogit, vel ex ipsa scriptura constet, et maxime in
historica narratione et ad instructionem fidei pertinente : sed hsec ratio
non minus cogit ad intelligendum proprie dierum numerum, quam diei
qualitatem, QUIA NON MINUS UNO MODO QUAM ALIO DESTRUITUR SINCE-
KITAS, IMO ET VERITAS HISTORIC. Secundo hoc valde confirmant alia
Scripture loca, in quibus hi sex dies tanquam veri, et inter se distincti
commemorantur, ut Exod. 20 dicitur, Sex diebiis operabis et fades
omnia opera tua, septimo autem die Sabbatum Domini Dei tui est. Et
infra : Sex enim diebus fecit Dominm ccelum et terram et mare et omnia
quce in eis sunt, et idem repetitur in cap. 31. In quibus locis sermonis
proprietas colligi potest turn ex sequiparatione, nam cum dicitur : sex
diebus operabis, propriissime intelligitur : turn quia non est yerisimile,
potuisse populum intelligere verba ilia in alio sensu, et e contrario
incredibilo est, Deum in suis pr?eceptis tradendis illis verbis ad
populum fuisse loquutum, quibus deciperetur, falsum sensum conci-
piendo, si Deus non per sex veros dies opera sua fecisset."

1 "Propter lisec erjjo sententia ilia Augustini et propter nimiam obscuritatem
ct subtilitatera ejus difficilis creditu est : quia verisimile non est Deum inspi-
rasse Moysi, ut historiam de creatione mundi ad fidem totius populi ade6
neccssariam per nomiria dierum explicaret, quorum significatio vk inveniri et
difficillime ab aliquo credi posset." (Loc. cit. Lib. I. cap. xi. 42.)

232 CRITIQUES AND ADDRESSES. [x.

These passages leave no doubt that this great doctor
of the Catholic Church, of unchallenged authority and
unspotted orthodoxy, not only declares it to be Catholic
doctrine that the work of creation took place in the
space of six natural days ; but that he warmly repu
diates, as inconsistent with our knowledge of the Divine
attributes, the supposition that the language which
Catholic faith requires the believer to hold that God
inspired, was used in any other sense than that which
He knew it would convey to the minds of those to whom
it was addressed.

And I think that in this repudiation Father Suarez
will have the sympathy of every man of common
uprightness, to whom it is certainly " incredible " that
the Almighty should have acted in a manner which He
would esteem dishonest and base in a man.

But the belief that the universe was created in six
natural days is hopelessly inconsistent with the doctrine
of evolution, in so far as it applies to the stars and
planetary bodies ; and it can be made to agree with a
belief in the evolution of living beings only by the
supposition that the plants and animals, which are said
to have been created on the third, fifth, and six days,
were merely the primordial forms, or rudiments, out of
which existing plants and animals have been evolved ; so
that, on these days, plants and animals were not created
actually, but only potentially.

The latter view is that held by Mr. Mivart, who follows
St. Augustin, and implies that he has the sanction of
Suarez. But, in point of fact, the latter great light of
orthodoxy takes no small pains to give the most explicit
and direct contradiction to all such imaginations, as the
following passages prove. In the first place, as regards
plants, Suarez discusses the problem : —

2.] MR. DARWIN'S CRITICS. 233

" Quomodo herba virens et ccetera vegetabilia hoc \tertio~\ die fuerint

"Prcecipua euim difficultas htc est, quam attingit Div. Thomas 1,
par. qu. 69, art. 2, an haec productio plantarum hoc die facta intelli-
2:enda sit de productione ipsarum in proprio esse actuali et formal! (ut
sic rem explicerem) vel de productione tantum in semine et in
poteutia. Nam Divus Angnstinus libro quinto Genes, ad liter, cap.
4 et 5 et libro 8, cap. 3, posteriorem partem tradit, dicens, terram in
hoc die accepisse virtutem germinandi omnia vegetabilia quasi con-
cepto omnium illorum semine, non tamen statim vegetabilia omnia
produxisse. Quod primo suadet verbis illis capitis secu-ndi. In die,
quo fecit Deus ccelum et terram et omne virgultum agri priusquam germi-
naret. Quomodo enim potuerunt virgulta fieri antequam terra germ't-
naret nisi quia causaliter prius et quasi in radice, seu in semiue facta
sunt, et postea in actu producta ? Secundo confirmari potest, quia
verbum illud germinet terra optime exponitur potestative ut sic
dicam, id est, accipiat terra vim germinandi. Sicut in eodem capite
dicitur crescite et multiplicamini. Tertio potest confirmari, quia
actualis productio vegetabilium non tarn ad opus creationis, quam ad
opus propagations pertinet, quod postea factum est. Et haiic senten-
tiam sequitur Eucherius lib. 1, in Gen. cap. 11, et illi faveat Glossa,
interli. Hugo, et Lyran. dum verbum germinet dicto modo exponunt.

NlHILOMINUS CONTRARIA SENTENTIA TENENDA EST : SCILICET, PRODUXISSE
DfiUM HOC DIE HERBAM, ARBOR ES, ET ALIA VEGETABILIA ACTU IN PROPRIA

SPECIE ET NATURA. Hcec est communis sententiu 1'atrum. — Basil.
homil. 5; ExEemer. Ambros. lib. 3; Exsemer. cap. 8,11, ct 16; Chrysost,
homil. 5 in Gen. Damascene, lib. 2 de Fid. cap. 10 ; Theodor. Cyrilli.
Bedae, Glossse ordinarise et aliorum in Gen. Et idem sentit Divus
Thomas, supra, solvens argumenta Augustini, quamvis propter reve-
rentiam ejus quasi problematice semper procedat. Denique idem
sentiunt omnes qui in his operibus veram successionem et temporalem
distinctionem aguoscant."

Secondly, with respect to animals, Suarez is no less
decided : —

(i De animalium ratione carentium productione quinto et sexto die

facta.1

il 32. Primo ergo nobis certum sit hsec animantia non in virtute
tantum aut in semine, sed actu, et in seipsis, facta fuisse his diebus in
quibus facta narrantur. Quanquam Augustinus lib. 3, Gen. ad liter.
cap. 5 in sua persistens sententia contrarium sentire videatur."

1 Loc. cit. Lib. II. cap. vii. et viii. 1, 32, '35.

234 CRITIQUES AND ADDRESSES. [x.

But Suarez proceeds to refute Augustin's opinions at
great length, and his final judgment may IDC gathered
from the following passage :—

" 35. Tertio diceudum est, haec animalia omnia bis diebus producta

GSSe, IN PERFECTO STATU, IN SINGULIS INDIVIDUIS, SEU SPECIEBUS SUIS,
JUXTA UNIUSCUJUSQUE NATURAM . . . . ITAQUE FUERUNT OMNIA CREATA
INTEGRA ET OMNIBUS SUIS MEMBRIS PERFECTA."

As regards the creation of animals and plants, there
fore, it is clear that Suarez, so far from " distinctly
asserting derivative creation," denies it as distinctly
and positively as he can ; that he is at much pains
to refute St. Augustin's opinions ; that he does not
hesitate to regard the faint acquiescence of St. Thomas
Aquinas in the views of his brother saint as a kindly
subterfuge on the part of Divus Thomas ; and that he
affirms his own view to be that which is supported by
the authority of the Fathers of the Church. So that,
when Mr. Mivart tells us that Catholic theology is in
harmony with all that modern science can possibly
require; that "to the general theory of evolution,
and to the special Darwinian form of it, no exception
. . . need be taken on the ground of orthodoxy ; " and
that " law and regularity, not arbitrary intervention,
was the Patristic ideal of creation/' we have to choose
between his dictum, as a theologian, and that of a great
light of his Church, whom he himself declares to be

O '

" widely venerated as an authority, and whose orthodoxy
has never been questioned."

But Mr. Mivart does not hesitate to push his attempt
to harmonize science with Catholic orthodoxy to its
utmost limit; and, while assuming that the soul of
man " arises from immediate and direct creation," he
supposes that his body was "formed at first (as now
in each separate individual) by derivative, or secondary
creation, through natural laws" (p. 331).

3.] ME. DARWIWS CRITICS. 235

This means, I presume, that an animal, having the
corporeal form and bodily powers of man, may have
been developed out of some lower form of life by a
process of evolution; and that, after this anthropoid
animal had existed for a longer or shorter time, God
made a soul by direct creation, and put it into the
manlike body, which, heretofore, had been devoid of
that anima rationalis, which is supposed to be man's
distinctive character.

This hypothesis is incapable of either proof or disproof,
and therefore may be true; but if Suarez is any authority,
it is not Catholic doctrine, " Nulla est in homine forma
educta de potentia materioe," ! is a dictum which is
absolutely inconsistent with the doctrine of the natural
evolution of any vital manifestation of the human body.

Moreover, if man existed as an animal before he was
provided with a rational soul, he must, in accordance
with the elementary requirements of the philosophy
in which Mr. Mivart delights, have possessed a distinct
sensitive and vegetative soul, or souls. Hence, when the
" breath of life " was breathed into the manlike animal's
nostrils, he must have already been a living and feeling
creature. But Suarez particularly discusses this point,
and not only rejects Mr. Mivart's view, but adopts
lano'ua^e of very theological strength regarding it.

o o «/ o o o o

"Possent prseterea his adjungi argumenta theologica, ut est illud
quod simritur ex illis verbis Genes. 2. Formavit Deus hominem ex lima
terrce et inspiravit in faciem ejus spiraculum vitce et factus est homo in
animam viventem : ille enim spiritus, quam Deus spiravit, anima
rationalis fuit, et PER EADEM FACTUS EST HOMO VIVENS, ET COXSE-

QUEXTEB, ETIAM SENTIENS.

" Aliud est ex VIII. Synodo General! quae est Constantinopolitana
IV. can. 11, qui sic habet. Apparet quosdam in tantum impietatis
venisse ut homines duas animas habere dogmatizent : talis igitur impiz-
tatis inventores et similes sapientes, cum Vetus et Novum Testamentum

1 Disput. xv. § x. No. 27.

236 CRITIQUES AND ADDRESSES. (x.

omnesque Ecclesice patres unam animam rationalem hominem habfirc
asseverent, Sancta, et universalis Synodus anathematizat"1

Moreover, if the animal nature of man was the result
of evolution, so must that of woman have been. But
the Catholic doctrine, according to Suarez, is that
woman was, in the strictest and most literal sense of
the words, made out of the rib of man.

" Nihilominus sententia Catholica est, verba ilia Scripfcuroe esse ad
literam intelligenda. Ac PROINDE VERB, AC BEALITER, TULISSE DEUM

COSTAM AD2E, ET, EX ILLA, CORPUS E\^E FORMASSE." 2

Nor is there any escape in the supposition that
some woman existed before Eve, after the fashion of the
Lilith of the rabbis ; since Suarez qualifies that notion,
along with some other Judaic imaginations, as simply
" damnabilis." 3

After the perusal of the " Tractatus de Opere " it is,
in fact, impossible to admit that Suarez held any opinion
respecting the origin of species, except such as is con
sistent with the strictest and most literal interpretation
of the words of Genesis. For Suarez, it is Catholic doc
trine, that the world was made in six natural days. On
the first of these days the materia prima was made out
of nothing, to receive afterwards those "substantial
forms " which moulded it into the universe of things ; on
the third day, the ancestors of all living plants suddenly
came into being, full-grown, perfect, and possessed of all
the properties which now distinguish them ; while, on
the fifth and sixth days, the ancestors of all existing
animals were similarly caused to exist in their complete
and perfect state, by the infusion of their appropriate
material substantial forms into the matter which had
already been created. Finally on the sixth day, the

1 Disput. xv. "De causa formali substantial]'," § x. No. 24.

2 " Tractatus de Opcre/' Lib. III. " De liominis creatione," cap. ii. No. 3.

3 Ibid. Lib. III. cap. iv. Nos. 8 aiid 9.

s.i MR. DARWIWS CRI

anima rationalis — that rational and immortal substan
tial form which is peculiar to man — was created out
of nothing, and " breathed into " a mass of matter
which, till then, was mere dust of the earth, and so
man arose. But the species man was represented by a
solitary male individual, until the Creator took out one
of his ribs and fashioned it into a female.

This is the view of the " Genesis of Species," held
by Suarez to be the only one consistent with Catholic
faith : it is because he holds this view to be Catholic
that he does not hesitate to declare St. Augustin unsound,
and St. Thomas Aquinas guilty of weakness, when the
one swerved from this view and the other tolerated the
deviation. And, until responsible Catholic authority —
say, -for example, the Archbishop of Westminster — •
formally declares that Suarez was wrong, and that
Catholic priests are free to teach their flocks that the
world was not made in six natural days, and that plants
and animals were not created in their perfect and com
plete state, but have been evolved by natural processes
through long ages from certain germs in which they were
potentially contained, I, for one, shall feel bound to
believe that the doctrines of Suarez are the only ones
which are sanctioned by Infallible Authority, as repre
sented by the Holy Father and the Catholic Church.

I need hardly add that they are as absolutely denied
and repudiated by Scientific Authority, as represented by
Reason and Fact. The question whether the earth and
the immediate progenitors of its present living popula
tion were made in six natural days or not, is no longer
one upon which two opinions can be held.

The fact that it did not so come into being stands
upon as sound a basis as any fact of history whatever.
It is not true that existing plants and animals came into
being within three days of the creation of the earth out

238 CRITIQUES AND ADDRESSES. [x.

of nothing, for it is certain that innumerable generations
of other plants and animals lived upon the earth before
its present population. And when, Sunday after Sunday,
men who profess to be our instructors in righteousness
read out the statement, " In six days the Lord made
heaven and earth, the sea, and all that in them is/' in
innumerable churches, they are either propagating what
they may easily know, and, therefore, are bound to know,
to be falsities ; or, if they use the words in some non-
natural sense, they fall below the moral standard of the
much- abused Jesuit.

Thus far the contradiction between Catholic verity
and Scientific verity is complete and absolute, quite
independently of the truth or falsehood of the doctrine
of evolution. But, for those who hold the doctrine of
evolution, all the Catholic verities about the creation
of living beings must be no less false. For them, the
assertion that the progenitors of all existing plants
were made on the third day, of animals on the fifth and
sixth days, in the forms they now present, is simply
false. Nor can they admit that man was made sud
denly out of the dust of the earth ; while it would be
an insult to ask an evolutionist whether he credits the
preposterous fable respecting the fabrication of woman
to which Suarez pins his faith. If Suarez has rightly
stated Catholic doctrine, then is evolution utter heresy.
And such I believe it to be. In addition to the truth
of the doctrine of evolution, indeed, one of its greatest
merits in my eyes, is the fact that it occupies a position
of complete and irreconcilable antagonism to that
vigorous and consistent enemy of the highest intellec
tual, moral, and social life of mankind — the Catholic
Church. No doubt, Mr. Mivart, like other putters of
new wine into old bottles, is actuated by motives which
are worthy of respect, and even of sympathy ; but his

:s.J MR. DARWIN'S CRITICS. 239

attempt has met with the fate which the Scripture
prophesies for all such.

Catholic theology, like all theologies which are based
upon the assumption of the truth of the account of the
origin of things given in the Book of Genesis, being
utterly irreconcilable with the doctrine of evolution, the
student of science, who is satisfied that the evidence
upon which the doctrine of evolution rests, is incom
parably stronger and better than that upon which the
supposed authority of the Book of Genesis rests, will not
trouble himself further with these theologies, but will
confine his attention to such arguments against the view
he holds as are based upon purely scientific data — and
by scientific data I do not merely mean the truths of
physical, mathematical, or logical science, but those of
moral and metaphysical science. For, by science, I
understand all knowledge which rests upon evidence and
reasoning of a like character to that which claims our
assent to ordinary scientific propositions. And if any
one is able to make good the assertion that his theology
rests upon valid evidence and sound reasoning, then it
appears to me that such theology will take its place as
a part of science.

The present antagonism between theology and science
does not arise from any assumption by the men of
science that all theology must necessarily be excluded
from science ; but simply because they are unable to
allow that reason and morality have two weights and
two measures ; and that the belief in a proposition,
because authority tells you it is true, or because you
wish to believe it, which is a high crime and misde
meanour when the subject matter of reasoning is of one
kind, becomes under the alias of " faith " the greatest
of all virtues, when the subject matter of reasoning is of
another kind.

240 CRITIQUES AND ADDRESSES. [x.

The Bishop of Brechin said well the other day : —
" Liberality in religion — I do not mean tender and
generous allowances for the mistakes of others — is only
unfaithfulness to truth."1 And, with the same qualifi
cation, I venture to paraphrase the Bishop's dictum :
" Ecclesiasticism in science is only unfaithfulness to
truth."

Elijah's great question, " Will you serve God or Baal ?
Choose ye," is uttered audibly enough in the ears of
every one of us as we come to manhood. Let every man
who tries to answer it seriously, ask himself whether he
can be satisfied with the Baal of authority, and with all
the good things his worshippers are promised in this
world and the next. If he can, let him, if he be so
inclined, amuse himself with such scientific implements
as authority tells him are safe and will not cut his
fingers ; but let him not imagine he is, or can be, both
a true son of the Church and a loyal soldier of science.

And, on the other hand, if the blind acceptance of
authority appears to him in its true colours, as mere,
private judgment in excelsis, and if he have the cou
rage to stand alone, face to face with the abyss of the
Eternal and Unknowable, let him be content, once for
all, not only to renounce the good things promised by
" Infallibility," but even to bear the bad things which
it prophesies ; content to follow reason and fact in
singleness and honesty of purpose, wherever they may
lead, in the sure faith that a hell of honest men will,
to him, be more endurable than a paradise full of
angelic shams.

Mr. Mivart asserts that " without a belief in a personal
God, there is no religion worthy of the name." This is
a matter of opinion. But it may be asserted, with less
reason to fear contradiction, that the worship of a

1 Charge at the Diocesan Synod of Brecliin. Scotsman, Sept. 14, 1871.

s..] MR. DARWWS CRITICS. 241

personal God, who, on Mr. Mivart's hypothesis, must
liave used language studiously calculated to deceive
His creatures and worshippers, is "no religion worthy
of the name." "Incredibile est, Deum illis verbis ad
populum fuisse locutum quibus deciperetur," is a verdict
in which, for once, Jesuit casuistry concurs with the
healthy moral sense of all mankind.

Having happily got quit of the theological aspect of
evolution, the supporter of that great truth who turns to
the scientific objections which are brought against it by
recent criticism, finds, to his relief, that the work before
him is greatly lightened by the spontaneous retreat of
the enemy from nine-tenths of the territory which he
occupied ten years ago. Even the Quarterly Reviewer
not only abstains from venturing to deny that evolution
has taken place, but he openly admits that Mr. Darwin
has forced on men's minds " a recognition of the proba
bility, if not more, of evolution, and of the certainty of
the action of natural selection" (p. 49).

I do not quite see, myself, how, if the action of natural
selection is certain, the occurrence of evolution is only
probable ; inasmuch as the development of a new species
by natural selection is, so far as it goes, evolution. How
ever, it is not worth while to quarrel with the precise
terms of a sentence which shows that the high watermark
of intelligence among those most respectable of Britons,
the readers of the Quarterly Revieiv, has now reached
such a level that the next tide may lift them easily and
pleasantly on the once-dreaded shore of evolution. Nor,
having got there, do they seem likely to stop, until they
have reached the inmost heart of that great region, and
accepted the ape ancestry of, at any rate, the body of
man. For the Eeviewer admits that Mr. Darwin can
be said to have established :

242 CRITIQUES AND ADDRESSES. [x.

"That if the various kinds of lower animals have been evolved one
from the other by a process of natural generation or evolution, then
it becomes highly probable, d priori, that man's body has been
similarly evolved ; but this, in such a case, becomes equally probable
from the admitted fact that he is an animal at all " (p. 65).

From the principles laid down in the last sentence, it
would follow that if man were constructed upon a plan
as different from that of any other animal as that of a
sea-urchin is from that of a whale, it would be " equally
probable " that he had been developed from some other
animal as it is now, when we know that for every bone,
muscle, tooth, and even pattern of tooth, in man, there
is a corresponding bone, muscle, tooth, and pattern of
tooth, in an ape. And this shows one of two things—
either that the Quarterly Keviewer's notions of probability
are peculiar to himself; or, that he has such an over
powering faith in the truth of evolution, that no extent
of structural break between one animal and another is
sufficient to destroy his conviction that evolution has
taken place.

But this by the way. The importance of the
admission that there is nothing in man's physical
structure to interfere with his having been evolved from
an ape, is not lessened because it is grudgingly made
and inconsistently qualified. And instead of jubilating
over the extent of the enemy's retreat, it will be more
worth while to lay siege to his last stronghold — the
position that there is a distinction in kind between the
mental faculties of man and those of brutes ; and that,
in consequence of this distinction in kind, no gradual
progress from the mental faculties of the one to those of
the other can have taken place.

The Quarterly Ke viewer entrenches himself within
formidable-looking psychological outworks, and there
is no getting at him without attacking them one by one.

x.j J/72. DARWIN'S OTWS. 243

He begins by laying down the following proposition :
"'Sensation' is not 'thought/ and no amount of
the former would constitute the most rudimentary
condition of the latter, though sensations supply the
conditions for the existence of 'thought' or ( know
ledge' ' (p. 67).

This proposition is true, or not, according to the sense
in which the word " thought" is employed. Thought is
not uncommonly used in a sense co-extensive with
consciousness, and, especially, with those states of
consciousness we call memory. If I recall the impres
sion made by a colour or an odour, and distinctly
remember blueness or muskiness, I may say with perfect
propriety that I "think of" blue or musk; and, so
long as the thought lasts, it is simply a faint repro
duction of the state of consciousness to which I gave
the name in question, when it first became known to me
as a sensation.

Now, if that faint reproduction of a sensation, which
we call the memory of it, is properly termed a thought,
it seems to me to be a somewhat forced proceeding to
draw a hard and fast line of demarcation between
thoughts and sensations. If sensations are not rudi
mentary thoughts, it may be said that some thoughts
are rudimentary sensations. No amount of sound con
stitutes an echo, but for all that no one would pretend
that an echo is something of totally different nature
from a sound. Again, nothing can be looser, or more
inaccurate, than the assertion that "sensations supply
the conditions for the existence of thought or know
ledge." If this implies that sensations supply the
conditions for the existence of our memory of sensa
tions or of our thoughts about sensations, it is a truism
which it is hardly worth while to state so solemnly.
If it implies that sensations supply anything else, it is

244 CRITIQUES AND ADDRESSES. [x.

obviously erroneous. And if it means, as the context
would seem to show it does, that sensations are the
subject-matter of all thought or knowledge, then it is
no less contrary to fact, inasmuch as our emotions, which
constitute a large part of the subject-matter of thought
or of knowledge, are not sensations.

More eccentric still is the Quarterly Eeviewer's next
piece of psychology.

" Altogether, we may clearly distinguish at least six kinds of action
to which the nervous system ministers : —

" I. That in which impressions received result in appropriate
movements without the intervention of sensation or thought, as in
the cases of injury above given. — This is the reflex action of the
nervous system.

" II. That in which stimuli from without result in sensations
through the agency of which their due effects are wrought out.
— Sensation.

" III. That in which impressions received result in sensations which
give rise to the observation of sensible objects. — Sensible perception.

"IV. That in which sensations and perceptions continue to
coalesce, agglutinate, and combine in more or less complex aggre
gations, according to the laws of the association of sensible percep
tions. — Association.

" The above four groups contain only indeliberate operations, con
sisting, as they do at the best, but of mere presentative sensible ideas
in no way implying any reflective or representative faculty. Such
actions minister to and form Instinct. Besides these, we may dis
tinguish two other kinds of mental action, namely : —

" V. That in which sensations and sensible perceptions are reflected
on by thought, and recognized as our own, and we ourselves recognized
by ourselves as affected and perceiving. — Self-consciousness.

" VI. That in which we reflect upon our sensations or perceptions,
and ask what they are, and why they are. — Eeason.

" These two latter kinds of action are deliberate operations, per
formed, as they are, by means of representative ideas implying the
use of a reflective representative faculty. Such actions distinguish
the intellect or rational faculty. Now, we assert that possession in
perfection of all the first four (jpresentative) kinds of action by no
means implies the possession of the last two (representative} kinds.
All persons, we think, must admit the truth of the following
proposition : —

x.] ME. DARWIN'S CRITICS. 245

"Two faculties are distinct, not in degree but in kind, if we may
possess the one in perfection without that fact implying that we possess
the other also. Still more will this be the case if the two faculties
tend to increase in an inverse ratio. Yet this is the distinction
between the instinctive and the intellectual parts of man's nature.

"As to animals, we fully admit that they may possess all the first
four groups of actions — that they may have, so to speak, mental
images of sensible objects combined in all degrees of complexity, as
governed by the laws of association. We deny to them, on the other
hand, the possession of the last two kinds of mental action. We deny
them, that is, the power of reflecting on their own existence, or of
inquiring into the nature of objects and their causes. We deny that
they know that they know or know themselves in knowing. In other
words, we deny them reason. The possession of the presentative
1 acuity, as above explained, in no way implies that of the reflective
fticulty ; nor does any amount of direct operation imply the power of
asking the reflective question before mentioned, as to * what ' and
; why.' " (Loc. cit. pp. G7, 68.)

Sundry points are worthy of notice in this remarkable
account of the intellectual powers. In the first place
the Eeviewer ignores emotion and volition, though they
are no inconsiderable " kinds of action to which the
nervous system ministers," and memory has a place in
his classification only by implication. Secondly, we are
told that the second " kind of action to which the
nervous system ministers" is "that in which stimuli
from without result in sensations through the agency of
which their due effects are wrought out. — Sensation."
Does this really mean that, in the writer's opinion,
"sensation" is the "agent" by which the "due effect"
of the stimulus, which gives rise to sensation, is
" wrought out " ? Suppose somebody runs a pin into
me. The "due effect" of that particular stimulus will
probably be threefold ; namely, a sensation of pain, a
start, and an inter] ectional expletive. Does the
Quarterly Eeviewer really think that the " sensation " is»
the "agent" by which the other two phenomena are
wrought out ?

246 CRITIQUES AND ADDRESSES. [x.

But these matters are of little moment to anyone but
the Eevicwer and those persons who may incautiously
take their physiology, or psychology, from him. The
really interesting point is this, that when he fully
admits that animals " may possess all the first four
groups of actions," he grants all that is necessary for the
purposes of the evolutionist. For he hereby admits that
in animals "impressions received result in sensations
which give rise to the observation of sensible objects,"
and that they have what he calls " sensible perception."
Nor was it possible to help the admission ; for we have
as much reason to ascribe to animals, as we have to
attribute to our fellow-men, the power, not only of per
ceiving external objects as external, and thus practically
recognizing the difference between the self and the not-
self; but that of distinguishing between like and unlike,
and between simultaneous and successive things. "When
a gamekeeper goes out coursing with a greyhound in
leash, and a hare crosses the field of vision, he becomes
the subject of those states of consciousness we call visual
sensation, and that is all he receives from without.
Sensation, as such, tells him nothing whatever about the
cause of these states of consciousness ; but the thinking
faculty instantly goes to work upon the raw material of
sensation furnished to it through the eye, and gives rise
to a train of thoughts. First comes the thought that
there is an object at a certain distance ; then arises
another thought— the perception of the likeness between
the states of consciousness awakened by this object to
those presented by memory, as, on some former occasion,
called up by a hare ; this is succeeded by another thought
of the nature of an emotion — namely, the desire to
possess the hare ; then follows a longer or shorter train of
other thoughts, which end in a volition and an act — the
loosing of the greyhound from the leash. These several

[x. MR. DARWIN'S CRITICS. 247

thoughts arc the concomitants of a process which goes
on in the nervous system of the man. Unless the
nerve-elements of the retina, of the optic nerve, of the
brain, of the spinal chord, and of the nerves of the
arms went through certain physical changes in due
order and correlation, the various states of consciousness
which have been enumerated would not make their
appearance. So that in this, as in all other intellectual
operations, we have to distinguish two sets of successive
changes — one in the physical basis of consciousness, and
the other in consciousness itself ; one set which may,
and doubtless will, in course of time, be followed
through all their complexities by the anatomist and the
physicist, and one of which only the man himself can
have immediate knowledge.

As it is very necessary to keep up a clear distinction
between these two processes, let the one be called
neurosis, and the other psychosis. When the game
keeper was first trained to his work, every step in the
process of neurosis was accompanied by a correspond
ing step in that of psychosis, or nearly so. He was
conscious of seeing something, conscious of making sure
it was a hare, conscious of desiring to catch it, and
therefore to loose the greyhound at the right time,
conscious of the acts by which he let the dog out of the
leash. But with practice, though the various steps of
the neurosis remain — for otherwise the impression on the
retina would not result in the loosing of the dog; — the

O O

great majority of the steps of the psychosis vanish, and
the loosing of the dog follows unconsciously, or as we
say, without thinking about it, upon the sight of the
hare. No one will deny that the series of acts which
originally intervened between the sensation and the
letting go of the dog were, in the strictest sense, intel
lectual and rational operations. Do they cease to be so

248 CRITIQUES AND ADDRESSES. [r.

when the man ceases to be conscious of them \ That
depends upon what is the essence and what the accident
of those operations, which, taken together, constitute
ratiocination.

Now ratiocination is resolvable into predication, and
predication consists in marking, in some way, the exist
ence, the coexistence, the succession, the likeness and
unlikeness, of things or their ideas. Whatever does
this, reasons ; and if a machine produces the effects of
reason, I see no more ground for denying to it the
reasoning power, because it is unconscious, than I see
for refusing to Mr. Babbage's engine the title of a
calculating machine on the same grounds.

Thus it seems to me that a gamekeeper reasons,
whether he is conscious or unconscious, whether his
reasoning is carried on by neurosis alone, or whether
it involves more or less psychosis. And if this is true
of the gamekeeper, it is also true of the greyhound.
The essential resemblances in all points of structure
and function, so far as they can be studied, between
the nervous system of the man and that of the dog,
leave no reasonable doubt that the processes which go
on in the one are just like those which take place in
the other. In the dog, there can be no doubt that the
nervous matter which lies between the retina and the
muscles undergoes a series of changes, precisely analogous
to those which, in the man, give rise to sensation, a train
of thought, and volition.

Whether this neurosis is accompanied by such psycho
sis as ours, it is impossible to say ; but those who deny
that th'e nervous changes, which, in the dog, correspond
with those which underlie thought in a man, are accom
panied by consciousness, are equally bound to maintain
that those nervous changes in the dog, which correspond
with those which underlie sensation in a man, are also

x.] MR. DARWIN'8 CRITICS. 249

unaccompanied by consciousness. In other words, if
there is no ground for believing that a dog thinks,
neither is there any for believing that he feels.

As is well known, Descartes boldly faced this dilemma,
and maintained that all animals were mere machines and
entirely devoid of consciousness. But he did not deny,
nor can anyone deny, that in this case they are reason
ing machines, capable of performing all those operations
which are performed by the nervous system of man
when he reasons. For even supposing that in man,
and in man only, psychosis is superadded to neurosis
— the neurosis which is common to both man and
animal gives their reasoning processes a fundamental
unity. But Descartes's position is open to very serious
objections, if the evidence that animals feel is insuf
ficient to prove that they really do so. What is the
value of the evidence which leads one to believe that
one's fellow-man feels ? The only evidence in this
argument of analogy, is the similarity of his structure
and of his actions to one's own. And if that is good
enough to prove that one's fellow-man feels, surely it is
good enough to prove that an ape feels. For the differ
ences of structure and function between men and apes are
utterly insufficient to warrant the assumption, that while
men have those states of consciousness we call sensations,
apes have nothing of the kind. Moreover, we have as
good evidence that apes are capable of emotion and
volition as we have that men other than ourselves are.
But if apes possess three out of the four kinds of states
of consciousness which we discover in ourselves, what
possible reason is there for denying them the "fourth ?
If they are capable of sensation, emotion, and volition,
why are they to be denied thought (in the sense of
predication) I

No answer has ever been given to these questions.

250 CRITIQUES AND ADDRESSES. [x.

And as the law of continuity is as much opposed, as is
the common sense of mankind, to the notion that all
animals are unconscious machines, it may safely be
assumed that no sufficient answer ever will be given
to them.

There is every reason to believe that consciousness is a
function of nervous matter, when that nervous matter
has attained a certain degree of organization, just as we
know the other " actions to which the nervous system
ministers," such as reflex action and the like, to be. As
I have ventured to state my view of the matter else
where, " our thoughts are the expression of molecular
changes in that matter of life which is the source of
our other vital phenomena."

Mr. Wallace objects to this statement in the following
terms : —

"Not having been able to find any clue in Professor Huxley's
writings to the steps by which he passes from those vital phenomena,
which consist only, in their last analysis, of movements by particles of
matter, to those other phenomena which we term thought, sensation,
or consciousness ; but, knowing that so positive an expression of opinion
from him will have great weight with many persons, I shall endeavour
to show, with as much brevity as is compatible with clearness, that
this theory is not only incapable of proof, but is also, as it appears to
me, inconsistent with accurate conceptions of molecular physics."

With all respect for Mr. Wallace, it appears to me that
his remarks are entirely beside the question. I really
know nothing whatever, and never hope to know any
thing, of the steps by which the passage from molecular
movement to states of consciousness is effected ; and I
entirely agree with the sense of the passage which he
quotes from Professor Tyndall, apparently imagining that
it is in opposition to the view I hold.

All that I have to say is, that, in my belief, conscious
ness and molecular action are capable of being expressed
by one another, just as heat and mechanical action are

x.] MR. DARWIN'S CRITICS. 251

capable of being expressed in terms of one another.
Whether we shall ever be able to express consciousness
in. foot-pounds, or not, is more than I will venture to
say ; but that there is evidence of the existence of some
correlation between mechanical motion and conscious
ness, is as plain as anything can be. Suppose the poles
of an electric battery to be connected by a platinum
wire. A certain intensity of the current gives rise in
the mind of a bystander to that state of consciousness we
call a "dull red light" — a little greater intensity to
another which we call a " bright red light ; " increase
the intensity, and the light becomes white ; and, finally,
it; dazzles, and a new state of consciousness arises, which
we term pain. Given the same wire and the same
nervous apparatus, and the amount of electric force re
quired to give rise to these several states of consciousness
will be the same, however often the experiment is re
peated. And as the electric force, the light-waves, and
the nerve-vibrations caused by the impact of the light
waves on the retina, are all expressions of the molecular
changes which are taking place in the elements of the
battery ; so consciousness is, in the same sense, an ex
pression of the molecular changes which take place
in that nervous matter, which is the organ of con
sciousness.

And, since this, and any number of similar examples
that may be required, prove that one form of conscious
ness, at any rate, is, in the strictest sense, the expression
of molecular change, it really is not worth while to
pursue the inquiry, whether a fact so easily established
is consistent with any particular system of molecular
physics or not.

Mr. "Wallace, in fact, appears to me to have mixed up
two very distinct propositions : the one, the indisputable
truth that consciousness is correlated with molecular

12

252 CRITIQUES AND ADDRESSES. [x.

changes in the organ of consciousness ; the other, that
the nature of that correlation is known, or can be con
ceived, which is quite another matter. Mr. Wallace,
presumably, believes in that correlation of phenomena
which we call cause and effect as firmly as I do. But
if he has ever been able to form the faintest notion how
a cause gives rise to its effect, all I can say is that I
envy him. Take the simplest case imaginable — suppose
a ball in motion to impinge upon another ball at rest.
I know very well, as a matter of fact, that the ball in
motion will communicate some of its motion to the ball
at rest, and that the motion of the two balls after col
lision is precisely correlated with the masses of both
balls and the amount of motion of the first. But how
does this come about ? In what manner can we conceive
that the vis viva of the first ball passes into the second ?
I confess I can no more form any conception of what
happens in this case, than I can of what takes place
when the motion of particles of my nervous matter,
caused by the impact of a similar ball, gives rise to the
state of consciousness I call pain. In ultimate analysis
everything is incomprehensible, and the whole object
of science is simply to reduce the fundamental incom
prehensibilities to the smallest possible number.

But to return to the Quarterly Keviewer. He admits
that animals have "mental images of sensible objects,
combined in all degrees of complexity, as governed by
the laws of association." Presumably, by this confused
and imperfect statement the Eeviewer means to admit
more than the words imply. For mental images of sen
sible objects, even though "combined in all degrees of
complexity," are, and can be, nothing more than mental
images of sensible objects. But judgments, emotions,
and volitions cannot by any possibility be included
under the head of " mental images of sensible objects."

x.] ME. DARWIN'S CRITICS. 253

If the greyhound had no better mental endowment than
the Keviewer allows him, he might have the " mental
image" of the "sensible object"-— the hare— and that
might be combined with the mental images of other
sensible objects, to any degree of complexity, but he
would have no power of judging it to be at a certain
distance from him ; no power of perceiving its similarity
to his memory of a hare ; and no desire to get at it.
Consequently he would stand stock still, and the noble
art of coursing would have no existence. On the other
hand, as that art is largely practised, it follows that
greyhounds alone possess a number of mental powers,
the existence of which, in any animal, is absolutely
denied by the Quarterly Eeviewer.

Finally, what are the mental powers which he reserves
as the especial prerogative of man ? They are two.
First, the recognition of "ourselves by ourselves as
affected and perceiving. — Self- consciousness/'

Secondly. " The reflection upon our sensations and
perceptions, and asking what they are and why they
are. — Keason."

To the faculty defined in the last sentence, the
Eeviewer, without assigning the least ground for thus
departing from both common usage, and technical pro
priety, applies the name of reason. But if man is not
to be considered a reasoning being, unless he asks what
his sensations and perceptions are, and why they are,
what is a Hottentot, or an Australian black fellow ; or
what the "swinked hedger" of an ordinary agricultural
district ? Nay, what becomes of an average country
squire or parson ? How many of these worthy persons
who, as their wont is, read the Quarterly Review, would
do other than stand agape, if you asked them whether
they had ever reflected what their sensations and per
ceptions are, and why they are ?

254 CRITIQUES AND ADDRESSES. [x.

So that if the Keviewer's new definition of reason be
correct, the majority of men, even among the most
civilized nations, are devoid of that supreme character
istic of manhood. And if it be as absurd as I believe
it to be, then, as reason is certainly not self-consciousness,
and as it, as certainly, is one of the " actions to which
the nervous system ministers/' we must, if the Beviewer's
classification is to be adopted, seek it among those four
faculties which he allows animals to possess. And thus,
for the second time, he really surrenders, while seeming
to defend, his position.

The Quarterly Eeviewer, as we have seen, lectures the
evolutionists upon their want of knowledge of philosophy
altogether. Mr. Mivart is not less pained at Mr. Darwin's
ignorance of moral science. It is grievous to him that
Mr. Darwin (and nous autres) should not have grasped
the elementary distinction between material and formal
morality ; and he lays down as an axiom, of which no
tyro ought to be ignorant, the position that "acts, un
accompanied by mental acts of conscious will directed
towards the fulfilment of duty/' are "absolutely desti
tute of the most incipient degree of real or formal
goodness."

Now this may be Mr. Mivart's opinion, but it is a
proposition which, really, does not stand on the footing
of an undisputed axiom. Mr. Mill denies it in his work
on Utilitarianism. The most influential writer of a
totally opposed school, Mr. Carlyle, is never weary of
denying it, and upholding the merit of that virtue
which is unconscious ; nay, it is, to my understanding,
extremely hard to reconcile Mr. Mivart's dictum with
that noble summary of the whole duty of man — " Thou
shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and
with all thy soul, and with all thy strength ; and thou
shalt love thy neighbour as thyself." According to

x.] MR. DARWIN^S CRITICS. 255

Mr. Mivart's definition, the man who loves God and his
neighbour, and, out of sheer love and affection for both,
does all he can to please them, is, nevertheless, destitute
of a particle of real goodness.

And it further happens that Mr. Darwin, who is
charged by Mr. Mivart with being ignorant of the dis
tinction between material and formal goodness, discusses
the very question at issue, in a passage which is well
worth reading (vol. i. p. 87), and also comes to a con
clusion opposed to Mr. Mivart's axiom. A proposition
which has been so much disputed and repudiated, should,
under no circumstances, have been thus confidently
assumed to be true. For myself, I utterly reject it, inas
much as the logical consequence of the adoption of any
such principle is the denial of all moral value to sym
pathy and affection. According to Mr. Mivart's axiom,
the man who, seeing another struggling in the water,
leaps in at the risk of his own life to save him, does that
which is "destitute of the most incipient degree of real
goodness," unless, as he strips off his coat, he says to
himself, " Now mind, I am going to do this because it is
my duty and for no other reason ;" and the most beauti
ful character to which humanity can attain, that of the
man who does good without thinking about it, because
he loves justice and mercy and is repelled by evil, has no
claim on our moral approbation. The denial that a man
acts morally because he does not think whether he does
so or not, may be put upon the same footing as the denial
of the title of an arithmetician to the calculating boy,
because he did not know how he worked his sums. If
mankind ever generally accept and act upon Mr. Mivart's
axiom, they will simply become a set of most unendurable
prigs ; but they never have accepted it, and I venture to
hope that evolution has nothing so terrible in store for
the human race.

256 CRITIQUES AND ADDRESSES. [x.

But, if an action, the motive of which is nothing out
affection or sympathy, may be deserving of moral appro
bation and really good, who that has ever had a dog of
his own will deny that animals are capable of such
actions ? Mr. Mivart indeed says : — " It may be safely
affirmed, however, that there is no trace in brutes of any
actions simulating morality which are not explicable by
the fear of punishment, by the hope of pleasure, or by
personal affection" (p. 221). But it may be affirmed, with
equal truth, that there is no trace in men of any actions
which are not traceable to the same motives. If a man
does anything, he does it either because he fears to be
punished if he does not do it, or because he hopes to
obtain pleasure by doing it, or because he gratifies his
affections l by doing it.

Assuming the position of the absolute moralists, let it
be granted that there is a perception of right and wrong
innate in every man. This means, simply, that when
certain ideas are presented to his mind, the feeling of
approbation arises ; and when certain others, the feeling
of disapprobation. To do your duty is to earn the appro
bation of your conscience, or moral sense ; to fail in your
duty is to feel its disapprobation, as we all say. Now, is
approbation a pleasure or a pain ? Surely a pleasure.
And is disapprobation a pleasure or a pain ? Surely a
pain. Consequently all that is really meant by the abso
lute moralists is that there is, in the very nature of man,
something which enables him to be conscious of these
particular pleasures and pains. And when they talk of
immutable and eternal principles of morality, the only
intelligible sense which I can put upon the words, is that
the nature of man being what it is, he always has been,
and always will be, capable of feeling these particular

1 In separating pleasure and the gratification of affection, I simply follow
Mr. Mivart without admitting the justice of the separation.

x..| M& DARWIWS CRITICS. 257

pleasures and pains. A priori, I have nothing to say
against this proposition. Admitting its truth, I do not
see how the moral faculty is on a different footing from
any of the other faculties of man. If I choose to say
that it is an immutable and eternal law of human nature
that " ginger is hot in the mouth," the assertion has as
much foundation of truth as the other, though I think it
would be expressed in needlessly pompous language. I
must confess that I have never been able to understand
why there should be such a bitter quarrel between the
intuitionists and the utilitarians. The intuitionist is, after
all, only a utilitarian who believes that a particular class
cf pleasures and pains has an especial importance, by
reason of its foundation in the nature of man, and its
inseparable connection with his very existence as a
thinking being. And as regards the motive of personal
affection : Love, as Spinoza profoundly says, is the asso
ciation of pleasure with that which is loved.1 Or, to
put it to the common sense of mankind, is the gratifica
tion of affection a pleasure or a pain ? Surely a pleasure.
So that whether the motive which leads us to perform
an action is the love of our neighbour, or the love of God,
it is undeniable that pleasure enters into that motive.

Thus much in reply to Mr. Mivart's arguments. I
cannot but think that it is to be regretted that he ekes
them out by ascribing to the doctrines of the philo
sophers with whom he does not agree, logical con
sequences which have been over and over again proved
not to flow from them : and when reason fails him, tries
the effect of an injurious nickname. According to the
views of Mr. Spencer, Mr. Mill, and Mr. Darwin, Mr.
Mivart tells us, "virtue is a mere kind of retrieving ;"
and, that we may not miss the point of the joke, he

1 " Nerape, Amor niliil aliud est, quam Laetitia, concomitante idea causas
externae." — JSthices, III. xiii.

258 CRITIQUES AND ADDRESSES. [x.

puts it iii italics. But what if it is \ Does that make
it less virtue ? Suppose I say that sculpture is a " mere
way " of stone-cutting, and painting a " mere way " of
daubing canvas, and music a " mere way " of making a
noise, the statements are quite true ; but they only show
that I see no other method of depreciating some of the
noblest aspects of humanity, than that of using language
in an inadequate and misleading sense about them. And
the peculiar in appropriateness of this particular nickname
to the views in question, arises from the circumstance
which Mr. Mivart would doubtless have recollected, if
his wish to ridicule had not for the moment obscured
his judgment — that whether the law of evolution applies
to man or not, that of hereditary transmission certainly
does. Mr. Mivart will hardly deny that a man owes
a large share of the moral tendencies which he exhibits
to his ancestors ; and the man who inherits a desire to
steal from a kleptomaniac, or a tendency to benevolence
from a Howard, is, so far as he illustrates hereditary
transmission, comparable to the dog who inherits the
desire to fetch a duck out of the water from his re
trieving sire. So that, evolution, or no evolution, moral
qualities are comparable to a "kind of retrieving;"
though the comparison, if meant for the purposes of
casting obloquy on evolution, does not say much for
the fairness of those who make it.

The Quarterly Eeviewer and Mr. Mivart base their
objections to the evolution of the mental faculties of
man from those of some lower animal form, upon what
they maintain to be a difference in kind between the
mental and moral faculties of men and brutes ; and
I have endeavoured to show, by exposing the utter
unsoundness of their philosophical basis, that these
objections are devoid of importance.

The objections which Mr. Wallace brings forward to

x.] MR. DARWIN'S CRITICS. 259

the doctrine of the evolution of the mental faculties of
man from those of brutes by natural causes, are of a
different order, and require separate consideration.

If I understand him rightly, he by no means doubts
that both the bodily and the mental faculties of man have
been evolved from those of some lower animal ; but he
is of opinion, that some agency beyond that which has
been concerned in the evolution of ordinary animals, has
been operative in the case of man. " A superior intelli
gence has guided the development of man in a definite
direction and for a special purpose, just as man guides
the development of many animal and vegetable forms/'
1 understand this to mean that, just as the rock-pigeon
lias been produced by natural causes, while the evolution
of the tumbler from the blue rock has required the
special intervention of the intelligence of man, so some
anthropoid form may have been evolved by variation
and natural selection ; but it could never have given rise
to man, unless some superior intelligence had played the
part of the pigeon-fancier.

According to Mr. Wallace, " whether we compare the
savage with the higher developments of man, or with
the brutes around him, we are alike driven to the
conclusion, that, in his large and well-developed brain,
he possesses an organ quite disproportioned to his re
quirements " (p. 343); and he asks, "What is there in
the life of the savage .but the satisfying of the cravings
of appetite in the simplest and easiest way I What
thoughts, idea, or actions are there that raise him many-
grades above the elephant or the ape ? " (p. 342). I
answer Mr. Wallace by citing a remarkable passage
which occurs in his instructive paper on " Instinct in
Man and Animals."

1 "The limits of Natural Selection as applied to Man " (loc. cit. p. 359).

260 CRITIQUES AND ADDRESSES. [x.

"Savages make long journeys in many directions, and, their whole
faculties being directed to the subject, they gain a wide and accurate
knowledge of the topography, not only of their own district, but of all
the regions round about. Everyone who has travelled in a new
direction communicates his knowledge to those who have travelled
less, and descriptions of routes and localities, and minute incidents of
travel, form one of the main staples of conversation around the evening
fire. Every wanderer or captive from another tribe adds to the store
of information, and, as the very existence of individuals and of whole
families and tribes depends upon the completeness of this knowledge,
all the acute perceptive faculties of the adult savage are directed to
acquiring and perfecting it. The good hunter or warrior thus comes
to know the bearing of every hill and mountain range, the directions
and junctions of all the streams, the situation of each tract charac
terized b}r peculiar vegetation, not only within the area he has himself
traversed, but perhaps for a hundred miles around it. His acute
observation enables him to detect the slightest undulations of the
surface, the various changes of subsoil and alterations in the character
of the vegetation that would be quite imperceptible to a stranger.
His eye is always open to the direction in which he is going ; the mossy
side of trees, the presence of certain plants under the shade of rocks,
the morning and evening flight of birds, are to him indications of
direction almost as sure as the sun in the heavens " (pp. 207-8).

I have seen enough of savages to be able to declare
that nothing can be more admirable than this description
of what a savage has to learn. But it is incomplete.
Add to all this the knowledge which a savage is obliged
to gain of the properties of plants, of the characters and
habits of animals, and of the minute indications by
which their course is discoverable : consider that even
an Australian can make excellent baskets and nets, and
neatly fitted and beautifully balanced spears ; that he
learns to use these so as to be able to transfix a quartern
loaf at sixty yards .; and that very often, as in the case
of the American Indians, the language of a savage
exhibits complexities which a well-trained European
finds it difficult to master : consider that every time a
savage tracks his game, he employs a minuteness of
observation, and an accuracy of inductive and deductive

x.] MIL DARWIN'S CRITICS. 261

reasoning which, applied to other matters, would assure
some reputation to a man of science, and I think we
need ask no further why he possesses such a fair supply
c-f brains. In complexity and difficulty, I should say
that the intellectual labour of a "good hunter or warrior"
considerably exceeds that of an ordinary Englishman.
The Civil Service Examiners are held in great terror
by young Englishmen ; but even their ferocity never
tempted them to require a candidate to possess such a
knowledge of a parish, as Mr. Wallace justly points out
•savages may possess of an area a hundred miles, or more,
.in diameter.

But suppose, for the sake of argument, that a savage
has more brains than seems proportioned to his wants,
all that can be said is that the objection to natural selec
tion, if it be one, applies quite as strongly to the lower
animals. The brain of a porpoise is quite wonderful
for its mass, and for the development of the cerebral
convolutions. And yet since we have ceased to credit
the story of Arion, it is hard to believe that porpoises
are much troubled with intellect : and still more difficult
is it to imagine that their big brains are only a prepara
tion for the advent of some accomplished cetacean of the
future. Surely, again, a Avolf must have too much brains,
or else how is it that a dog, with only the same quantity
and form of brain, is able to develop such singular intelli
gence ? The wolf stands to the dog in the same relation
as the savage to the man; and, therefore, if Mr. Wallace's
doctrine holds good, a higher power must have super
intended the breeding up of wolves from some inferior
stock, in order to prepare them to become dogs.

Mr. Wallace further maintains that the origin of some
of man's mental faculties by the preservation of useful
variations is not possible. Such, for example, are " the
capacity to form ideal conceptions of space and time, of

262 CRITIQUES AND ADDRESSES. [x.

eternity and infinity ; the capacity for intense artistic
feelings of pleasure in form, colour, and composition ;
and for those abstract notions of form and number which
render geometry and arithmetic possible." ' How," he
asks, "were all or any of these faculties first developed,
when they could have been of no possible use to man in
his early stages of barbarism ? "

Surely the answer is not far to seek. The lowest
savages are as devoid of any such conceptions as the
brutes themselves. What sort of conceptions of space
and time, of form and number, can be possessed by a
savage who has not got so far as to be able to count

& o

beyond five or six, who does not know how to draw a
triangle or a circle, and has not the remotest notion of
separating the particular quality we call form, from the
other qualities of bodies ? None of these capacities are
exhibited by men, unless they form part of a tolerably
advanced society. And, in such a society, there are
abundant conditions by which a selective influence is
exerted in favour of those persons who exhibit an
approximation towards the possession of these capacities.
The savage who can amuse his fellows by telling a
good story over the nightly fire, is held by them in
esteem and rewarded, in one way or another, for so
doing — in other words, it is an advantage to him to
possess this power. He who can carve a paddle, or the
figure-head of a canoe better, similarly profits beyond his
duller neighbour. He who counts a little better than
others, gets most yams when barter is going on, and
forms the shrewdest estimate of the numbers of an
opposing tribe. The experience of daily life shows that
the conditions of our present social existence exercise
the most extraordinarily powerful selective influence in
favour of novelists, artists, and strong intellects of all
kinds ; and it seems unquestionable that all forms of

x.J MB. DARWIWS CRITICS. 263

social existence must have Lad the same tendency, if we
consider the indisputable facts that even animals possess
tlie power of distinguishing form and number, and that
they are capable of deriving pleasure from particular
forms and sounds. If we admit, as Mr. Wallace does,
that the lowest savages are not raised " many grades
a.bove the elephant and the ape ; " and if we further
admit, as I contend must be admitted, that the con
ditions of social life tend, powerfully, to give an advan
tage to those individuals who vary in the direction
of intellectual or aesthetic excellence, what is there to
interfere with the belief that these higher faculties, like
the rest, owe their development to natural selection ?

Finally, with respect to the development of the moral
sense out of the simple feelings of pleasure and pain,
liking and disliking, with which the lower animals are
provided, I can find nothing in Mr. Wallace's reasonings
which has not already been met by Mr. Mill, Mr. Spencer,
or Mr. Darwin.

I do not propose to follow the Quarterly Reviewer and
Mr. Mivart through the long string of objections in
matters of detail which they bring against Mr. Darwin's
views. Everyone who has considered the matter care
fully will be able to ferret out as many more " diffi
culties ; " but he will also, I believe, fail as completely as
they appear to me to have done, in bringing forward any
fact which is really contradictory of Mr. Darwin's views.
Occasionally, too, their objections and criticisms are
based upon errors of their own. As, for example, when
Mr. Mivart and the Quarterly Reviewer insist upon the
resemblances between the eyes of Cephalopoda and Ver-
tebrata, quite forgetting that there are striking and alto
gether fundamental differences between them ; or when
the Quarterly Eeviewer corrects Mr. Darwin for saying

264 CRITIQUES AND ADDRESSES. [x,

that the gibbons, "without having been taught, can
walk or run upright with tolerable quickness, though
they move awkwardly, and much less securely than
man." The Quarterly Eeviewer says, " This is a
little misleading, inasmuch as it is not stated that

O

this upright progression is effected by placing the
enormously long arms behind the head, or holding them
out backwards as a balance in progression."

Now, before carping at a small statement like this,
the Quarterly Ke viewer should have made sure that he
was quite right. But he happens to be quite wrong.
I suspect he got his notion of the manner in which a
gibbon walks from a citation in " Man's Place in Nature."
But at that time I had not seen a gibbon walk. Since
then I have, and I can testify that nothing can be more
precise than Mr. Darwin's statement. The gibbon I saw
walked without either putting his arms behind his head
or holding them out backwards. All he did was to
touch the ground with the outstretched fingers of his
long arms now and then, just as one sees a man who
carries a stick, but does not need one, touch the ground
with it as he walks along.

Again, a large number of the objections brought for
ward by Mr. Mivart and the Quarterly Eeviewer apply
to evolution in general, quite as much as to the par
ticular form of that doctrine advocated by Mr. Darwin ;
or, to their notions of Mr. Darwin's views and not to
what they really arc. An excellent example of this class
of difficulties is to be found in Mr. Mivart's chapter on
" Independent Similarities of Structure." Mr. Mivart
says that these cannot be explained by an " absolute and
pure Darwinian," but " that an innate power and evolu
tionary law, aided by the corrective action of natural
selection, should have furnished like needs with like aids,
is not at all improbable " (p. 82).

x.] MB. DARWIN^ S CRITICS. 265

I do not exactly know what Mr. Mivart means by an
"absolute and pure Darwinian;" indeed Mr. Mivart
makes that creature hold so many singular opinions
that I doubt if I can ever have seen one alive. But
I find nothing in his statement of the view which he

O

imagines to be originated by himself, which is really
inconsistent with what I understand to be Mr. Darwin's
views.

I apprehend that the foundation of the theory of
natural selection is the fact that living bodies tend

O

incessantly to vary. This variation is neither indefinite,
nor fortuitous, nor does it take place in all directions, in
the strict sense of these words.

Accurately speaking, it is not indefinite, nor does it
take place in all directions, because it is limited by the
general characters of the type to which the organism
exhibiting the variation belongs. A whale does not tend
to vary in the direction of producing feathers, nor a bird
in the direction of developing Avhalebone. In popular
language there is no harm in saying that the waves
which break upon the sea-shore are indefinite, fortuitous,
and break in all directions. In scientific language, on
the contrary, such a statement would be a gross error,
inasmuch as every particle of foam is the result of per
fectly definite forces, operating according to no less
definite laws. In like manner, every variation of a
living form, however minute, however apparently acci
dental, is inconceivable except as the expression of the
operation of molecular forces or " powers " resident
within the organism. And, as these forces certainly
operate according to definite laws, their general result
is, doubtless, in accordance with some general law which
subsumes them all. And there appears to be no objec
tion to call this an " evolutionary law." But nobody is
the wiser for doing so, or has thereby contributed, in the

266 CRITIQUES AND ADDRESSES. [x.

least degree, to the advance of the doctrine of evolution,
the great need of which is a theory of variation.

When Mr. Mivart tells us that his " aim has been to
support the doctrine that these species have been evolved
by ordinary natural laivs (for the most part unknown),
aided by the subordinate action of ' natural selection '
(pp. 332-3), he seems to be of opinion that his enterprise
has the merit of novelty. All I can say is that I have
never had the slightest notion that Mr. Darwin's aim is
in any way different from this. If I affirm that " species
have been evolved by variation * (a natural process, the
laws of which are for the most part unknown), aided by
the subordinate action of natural selection," it seems to
me that I enunciate a proposition which constitutes the
very pith and marrow of the first edition of the " Origin
of Species." And what the evolutionist stands in need
of just now, is not an iteration of the fundamental prin
ciple of Darwinism, but some light upon the questions,
What are the limits of variation ? and, If a variety has
arisen, can that variety be perpetuated, or even in
tensified, when selective conditions are indifferent, or
perhaps unfavourable, to its existence ? I cannot find
that Mr. Darwin has ever been very dogmatic in answer
ing these questions. Formerly, he seems to have inclined
to reply to them in the negative, while now his incli
nation is the other way. Leaving aside those broad
questions of theology, philosophy, and ethics, by the
discussion of which neither the Quarterly Reviewer nor
Mr. Mivart can be said to have damaged Darwinism —
whatever else they have injured — this is what their
criticisms come to. They confound a struggle for some
rifle-pits with an assault on the fortress.

In some respects, finally, I can only characterize the
Quarterly Reviewer's treatment of Mr. Darwin as alike

1 Including under tins head hereditary transmission.

K.] MB. DARWIN'S CRITICS. 267

unjust and unbecoming. Language of this strength
raquires justification, and on that ground I add the
remarks which follow.

The Quarterly Eeviewer opens his essay by a careful
enumeration of all those points upon which, during the
course of thirteen years of incessant labour, Mr. Darwin
has modified his opinions. It has often and justly been
remarked, that what strikes a candid student of Mr.
Darwin's works is not so much his industry, his know
ledge, or even the surprising fertility of his inventive
genius ; but that unswerving truthfulness and honesty
which never permit him to hide a weak place, or gloss
over a difficulty, but lead him, on all occasions, to point
out the weak places in his own armour, and even some
times, it appears to me, to make admissions against
himself which are quite unnecessary. A critic who
desires to attack Mr. Darwin has only to read his works
with a desire to observe, not their merits, but their
defects, and he will find, ready to hand, more adverse
suggestions than are likely ever to have suggested
themselves to his own sharpness, without Mr. Darwin's
self-denying aid.

Now this quality of scientific candour is not so com
mon that it needs to be discouraged ; and it appears to
me to deserve other treatment than that adopted by the
Quarterly Reviewer, who deals with Mr. Darwin as an
Old Bailey barrister deals with a man against whom he
wishes to obtain a conviction, per fas aut nefas, and
opens his case by endeavouring to create a prejudice
against the prisoner in the minds of the jury. In his
eagerness to carry out this laudable design, the Quarterly
Reviewer cannot even state the history of the doctrine
of natural selection without an oblique and entirely
unjustifiable attempt to depreciate Mr. Darwin. " To
Mr. Darwin," says he, " and (through Mr. Wallace's

268 CRITIQUES AND ADDRESSES. [x.

reticence) to Mr. Darwin alone, is due the credit of
having first brought it prominently forward and demon
strated its truth/' No one can less desire than I do,
to throw a doubt upon Mr. Wallace's originality, or to
question his claim to the honour of being one of the
originators of the doctrine of natural selection ; but the
statement that Mr. Darwin has the sole credit of origi
nating the doctrine because of Mr. Wallace's reticence is
simply ridiculous. The proof of this is, in the first
place, afforded by Mr. Wallace himself, whose noble
freedom from petty jealousy in this matter, smaller folk
would do well to imitate ; and who writes thus : — " I
have felt all my life, and I still feel, the most sincere
satisfaction that Mr. Darwin had been at work long
before me, and that it was not left for me to attempt
to write the 'Origin of Species/ I have long since
measured my own strength, and know well that it would
be quite unequal to that task." So that if there was
any reticence at all in the matter, it was Mr. Darwin's
reticence during the long twenty years of study which
intervened between the conception and the publication
of his theory, which gave Mr. Wallace the chance of
being an independent discoverer of the importance of
natural selection. And, finally, if it be recollected that
Mr. Darwin's and Mr. Wallace's essays were published
simultaneously in the Journal of the Linncean Society
for 1858, it follows that the Ke viewer, while obliquely
depreciating Mr. Darwin's deserts, has in reality awarded
to him a priority which, in legal strictness, does not
exist.

Mr. Mivart, whose opinions so often concur with those
of the Quarterly Eeviewer, puts the case in a way,
which I much regret to be obliged to say, is, in my
judgment, quite as incorrect ; though the injustice may
be less glaring. He says that the theory of natural

x.] MR. DARWIN^S CRITICS. 2G9

selection is, in general, exclusively associated with the
name of Mr. Darwin, " on account of the noble self-
abnegation of Mr. Wallace." As I have said, no one
can honour Mr. Wallace more than I do, both for what
he has done and for what he has not done, in his rela
tion to Mr, Darwin. And perhaps nothing is more
creditable to him than his frank declaration that he
could not have written such a work as the " Origin of
Species/' But, by this declaration, the person most
directly interested in the matter repudiates, by antici
pation, Mr. Mivart's suggestion that Mr. Darwin's emi
nence is more or less due to Mr. Wallace's modesty.

XL
THE GENEALOGY OF ANIMALS.1

CONSIDERING that Germany now takes the lead of the
world in scientific investigation, and particularly in
biology, Mr. Darwin must be well pleased at the rapid
spread of his views among some of the ablest and most
laborious of German naturalists.

Among these, Professor Haeckel, of Jena, is the Cory
phaeus. I know of no more solid and important contri
butions to biology in the past seven years than Haeckel's
work on the Radiolaria, and the researches of his dis
tinguished colleague Gegenbaur, in vertebrate anatomy ;
while in Haeckel's Generelle Morphologic there is all
the force, suggestiveness, and, what I may term the
systematizing power, of Oken, without his extravagance.
The Generelle Morpliologie is, in fact, an attempt to put
the doctrine of Evolution, so far as it applies to the
living world, into a logical form ; and to work out its
practical applications to their final results. The work
before us, again, may be said to be an exposition of the
Generelle Morpliologie for an educated public, consist
ing, as it does, of the substance of a series of lectures

1 " The Natural History of Creation." By Dr. Ernst ITacckol. [Natur-
liche Scliopfunys-Gescliichte. — Von Dr. Ernst llaeckcl, Professor an der
Universitat Jena.] Berlin, 1SGS.

XL] TEE GENEALOGY OF ANIMALS. 2U

delivered before a mixed audience at Jena, in the session
1867-8.

" The Natural History of Creation/' — or, as Professor
Haeckel admits it would have been better to call his
work, " The History of the Development or Evolution of
Nature," — deals, in the first six lectures, with the general
and historical aspects of the question, and contains a
very interesting and lucid account of the views of Lin
naeus, Cuvier, Agassiz, Goethe, Oken, Kant, Lamarck,
Lyell, and Darwin, and of the historical filiation of these
philosophers.

The next six lectures are occupied by a well-digested
statement of Mr. Darwin's views. The thirteenth lecture
discusses two topics which are not touched by Mr. Darwin,
namely, the origin of the present form of the solar system,
and that of living matter. Full justice is done to Kant,
as the originator of that "cosmic gas theory," as the
Germans somewhat quaintly call it, which is commonly
ascribed to Laplace. With respect to spontaneous gene
ration, while admitting that there is no experimental
evidence in its favour, Professor Haeckel denies the
possibility of disproving it, and points out that the
assumption that it has occurred is a necessary part of
the doctrine of Evolution. The fourteenth lecture,
on " Schopfungs-Perioden und Schopfungs-Urkunden,"
answers pretty much to the famous disquisition on
the " Imperfection of the Geological Kecord " in the
Origin of Species.

The following five lectures contain the most original
matter of any, being devoted to " Phylogeny," or the
working out of the details of the process of Evolution
in the animal and vegetable kingdoms, so as to prove
the line of descent of each group of living beings,
and to furnish it with its proper genealogical tree, or
"phylum."

272 CRITIQUES AND ADDRESSES. [xi.

The last lecture considers objections and sums up the
evidence in favour of biological Evolution.

I shall best testify to my sense of the value of the
work thus briefly analysed if I now proceed to note
down some of the more important criticisms which have
been suggested to me by its perusal.

I. In more than one place, Professor Haeckel enlarges
upon the service which the Origin of Species has done,
in favouring what he terms the " causal or mechanical "
view of living nature as opposed to the " teleological or
vitalistic " view. And no doubt it is quite true that the
doctrine of Evolution is the most formidable opponent of
all the commoner and coarser forms of Teleology. But
perhaps the most remarkable service to the philosophy
of Biology rendered by Mr. Darwin is the reconciliation
of Teleology and Morphology, and the explanation of the
facts of both which his views offer.

The Teleology which supposes that the eye, such as we
see it in man or one of the higher Vertebrata, was made
with the precise structure which it exhibits, for the pur
pose of enabling the animal which possesses it to see,
has undoubtedly received its death-blow. Nevertheless
it is necessary to remember that there is a wider Tele
ology, which is not touched by the doctrine of Evolution,
but is actually based upon the fundamental proposition
of Evolution. That proposition is, that the whole world,
living and not living, is the result of the mutual inter
action, according to definite laws, of the forces possessed
by the molecules of which the primitive nebulosity
of the universe was composed. If this be true, it is
no less certain that the existing world lay, potentially,
in the cosmic vapour ; and that a sufficient intelligence
could, from a knowledge of the properties of the mole
cules of that vapour, have predicted, say the state of the
Fauna of Britain in 1869, with as much certainty as one

XL] THE GENEALOGY OF ANIMALS. 273

can say what will happen to the vapour of the breath in
a cold winter's day..

Consider a kitchen clock, which ticks loudly, shows
the hours, minutes, and. seconds, strikes, cries " cuckoo ! "
fund perhaps shows the phases of the moon. When the
clock is wound up, all the phenomena which it exhibits
are potentially contained in its mechanism, and a clever
clockmaker could predict all it will do after an exami
nation of its structure.

If the evolution theory is correct, the molecular
structure of the cosmic gas stands in the same 'relation
to the phenomena of the world as the structure of the
clock to its phenomena.

Now let us suppose a death-watch, living in the clock-
case, to be a learned and intelligent student of its works.
He might say, " I find here nothing but matter and force
and pure mechanism from beginning to end/' arid he
would be quite right. But if he drew the conclusion
that the clock was not contrived for a purpose, he would
be quite wrong. On the other hand, imagine another
death-watch of a different turn of mind. He, listening
to the monotonous " tick ! tick ! " so exactly like his
own, might arrive at the conclusion that the clock
was itself a monstrous sort of death-watch, and that
its final cause and purpose was to tick. How easy
to point to the clear relation of the whole mechanism
to the pendulum, to the fact that the one thing the
clock did always and without intermission was to tick,
and that all the rest of its phenomena were intermittent
and subordinate to ticking ! For all this, it is certain
that kitchen clocks are not contrived for the purpose of
making a ticking noise.

Thus the teleological theorist would be as wrong as
the mechanical theorist, among our death-watches ; and,
probably, the only death-watch who would be right

274 CRITIQUES AND ADDRESSES. [xi

would be the one who should maintain that the sole
thing death-watches could be sure about was the nature
of the clock-works and the way they move ; and that
the purpose of the clock lay wholly beyond the purview
of beetle faculties.

Substitute " cosmic vapour " for " clock," and " mole
cules " for " works," and the application of the argument
is obvious. The teleological and the mechanical views
of nature are not, necessarily, mutually exclusive. On
the contrary, the more purely a mechanist the speculator
is, the more firmly does he assume a primordial mole
cular arrangement, of which all the phenomena of the
universe are the consequences ; and the more completely
is he thereby at the mercy of the teleologist, who can
always defy him to disprove that this primordial mole
cular arrangement was not intended to evolve the phe
nomena of the universe. On the other hand, if the
teleologist assert that this, that, or the other result of
the working of any part of the mechanism of the
universe is its purpose and final cause, the mechanist
can always inquire how he knows that it is more than
an unessential incident — the mere ticking of the clock,
which he mistakes for its function. And there seems to
be no reply to this inquiry, any more than to the fur
ther, not irrational, question, why trouble oneself about
matters which are out of reach, when the working of
the mechanism itself, which is of infinite practical
importance, affords scope for all our energies ?

Professor Haeckel has invented a new and convenient
name, " Dysteleology," for the study of the " purpose-
lessnesses" which are observable in living organisms —
such as the multitudinous cases of rudimentary and
apparently useless structures. I confess, however, that
it has often appeared to me that the facts of Dysteleo
logy cut two ways. If we are to assume, as evolutionists

XL] TEE GENEALOGY OF ANIMALS. 275

in. general do, that useless organs atrophy, such cases as
the existence of lateral rudiments of toes, in the foot of
a horse, place us in a dilemma. For, either these rudi
ments are of no use to the animal, in which case, con
sidering that the horse has existed in its present form
since the Pliocene epoch, they surely ought to have
disappeared ; or they are of some use to the animal, in
which case they are of no use as arguments against
Teleology. A similar, but still stronger, argument
may be based upon the existence of teats, and even
functional mammary glands, in male mammals. Nume
rous cases of " Gynsecomasty," or functionally active
breasts in men, are on record, though there is no mam
malian species whatever in which the male normally
suckles the young. Thus, there can be little doubt
that the mammary gland was as apparently useless in
the remotest male mammalian ancestor of man as in
living men, and yet it has not disappeared. Is it then
still profitable to the male organism to retain it \ Pos
sibly ; but in that case its dysteleological value is gone.

II. Professor Haeckel looks upon the causes which
have led to the present diversity of living nature as
twofold. Living matter, he tells us, is urged by two
impulses : a centripetal, which tends to preserve and
transmit the specific form, and which he identifies with
heredity ; and a centrifugal, which results from the
tendency of external conditions to modify the -organism
and effect its adaptation to themselves. The internal
impulse is conservative, and tends to the preservation
of specific, or individual, form ; the external impulse is
metamorphic, and tends to the modification of specific,
or individual, form.

In developing his views upon this subject, Professor
Haeckel introduces qualifications which disarm some of
the criticisms I should have been disposed to offer ; but

13

276 CRITIQUES AND ADDRESSES. [xi.

I think that his method of stating the case has the in
convenience of tending to leave out of sight the impor
tant fact — which is a cardinal point in the Darwinian
hypothesis — that the tendency to vary, in a given
organism, may have nothing to do with the external
conditions to which that individual organism is exposed,
but may depend wholly upon internal conditions. No
one, I imagine, would dream of seeking in the direct
influence of the external conditions of his life for the
cause of the development of the sixth finger and toe
in the famous Maltese.

I conceive that both hereditary transmission and adap
tation need to be analysed into their constituent condi
tions by the further application of the doctrine of the
Struggle for Existence. It is a probable hypothesis, that
what the world is to organisms in general, each organism
is to the molecules of which it is composed. Multitudes
of these, having diverse tendencies, are competing with
one another for opportunity to exist and multiply ; and
the organism, as a whole, is as much the product of the
molecules which are victorious as the Fauna, or Flora,
of a country is the product of the victorious organic
beings in it.

On this hypothesis, hereditary transmission is the
result of the victory of particular molecules contained in
the impregnated germ. Adaptation to conditions is the
result of the favouring of the multiplication of those
molecules whose organizing tendencies are most in har
mony with such conditions. In this view of the matter,
conditions are not actively productive, but are passively
permissive ; they do not cause variation in any given
direction, but they permit and favour a tendency in that
direction which already exists.

It is true that, in the long run, the origin of the
organic molecules themselves, and of their tendencies, is

XL] THE GENEALOGY OF ANIMALS. 277

to be sought in the external world ; but if we carry our
inquiries as far back as this, the distinction between
internal and external impulses vanishes. On the other
hand, if we confine ourselves to the consideration of a
single organism, I think it must be admitted that the
existence of an internal metamorphic tendency must be
as distinctly recognized as that of an internal conservative
tendency ; and that the influence of conditions is mainly,
if not wholly, the result of the extent to which they
favour the one, or the other, of these tendencies.

III. There is only one point upon which I funda
mentally and entirely disagree with Professor Haeckel,
but that is the very important one of his conception of
geological time, and of the meaning of the stratified
rocks as records and indications of that time. Con
ceiving that the stratified rocks of an epoch indicate a
period of depression, and that the intervals between
the epochs correspond with periods of elevation of which
we have no record, he intercalates between the different
epochs, or periods, intervals which he terms "Ante-
periods." Thus, instead of considering the Triassic,
Jurassic, Cretaceous, and Eocene periods, as continuously
successive, he interposes a period before each, as an
"Antetrias-zeit," " Antejura-zeit," "Antecreta-zeit," "Ant-
eocen-zeit," &c. And he conceives that the abrupt
changes between the FaunaB of the different formations

O

are due to the lapse of time, of which we have no
organic record, during their " Ante-periods."

The frequent occurrence of strata containing assem
blages of organic forms which are intermediate between
those of adjacent formations, is, to my mind, fatal to
this view. In the well-known St. Cassian beds, for
example, Palaeozoic and Mesozoic forms are commingled,
and, between the Cretaceous and the Eocene formations,
there are similar transitional beds. On the other hand,

278 CRITIQUES AND ADDRESSES. [xi.

in the middle of the Silurian series, extensive uncon
formity of the strata indicates the lapse of vast intervals
of time between the deposit of successive beds, without
any corresponding change in the Fauna.

Professor Haeckel will, I fear, think me unreasonable,
if I say that he seems to be still overshadowed by geo
logical superstitions ; and that he will have to believe
in the completeness of the geological record far less than
he does at present. He assumes, for example, that there
was no dry land, nor any terrestrial life, before the end
of the Silurian epoch, simply because, up to the
present time, no indications of fresh water, or terrestrial
organisms, have been found in rocks of older date.
And, in speculating upon the origin of a given group,
he rarely goes further back than the " Ante-period,"
which precedes that in which the remains of animals
belonging to that group are found. Thus, as fossil
remains of the majority of the groups of Reptilia arc
first found in the Trias, they are assumed to have
originated in the " AntetriasBic " period, or between the
Permian and Triassic epochs.

I confess this is wholly incredible to me. The Per
mian and the Triassic deposits pass completely into one
another ; there is no sort of discontinuity answering to
an unrecorded " Antetrias ; " and, what is more, we have
evidence of immensely extensive dry land during the
formation of these deposits. We know that the dry land
of the Trias absolutely teemed with reptiles of all groups
except Pteroclactyles, Snakes, and perhaps Tortoises ;
there is every probability that true Birds existed, and
Mammalia certainly did. Of the inhabitants of the
Permian dry land, on the contrary, all that have left a
record are a few lizards. Is it conceivable that these last
should really represent the whole terrestrial population
of that time, and that the development of Mammals, of

XL] THE GENEALOGY OF ANIMALS. 270

Birds, and of the highest forms of Reptiles, should have
been crowded into the time during which the Permian
conditions quietly passed away, and the Triassic condi
tions began ? Does not any such supposition become in
the highest degree improbable, when, in the terrestrial or
fresh-water Labyrinthodonts, which lived on the land of
the Carboniferous epoch, as well as on that of the Trias,
we have, evidence that one form of terrestrial life per
sisted, throughout all these ages, with no important modi
fication ? For my part, having regard to the small amount
of modification (except in the way of extinction) which
the Crocodilian, Lacertilian, and Chelonian Reptilia
have undergone, from the older Mesozoic times to the
present day, I cannot but put the existence of the
common stock from which they sprang far back in the
Palaeozoic epoch ; and I should apply a similar argu
mentation to all other groups of animals.

IV. Professor Haeckel proposes a number of modifica
tions in Taxonomy, all of which are well worthy of con
sideration. Thus he establishes a third primary division
of the living world, distinct from both animals and
plants, under the name of the Protista, to include the
Myxomycetes, the Diatomacea, and the Labyrinthidce,
which are commonly regarded as plants, with the Noc-
tiluccB, the Flagellata, the Rliizopoda. the Protoplasta,
and the Monera, which are most generally included
within the animal world. A like attempt has been
made, by other writers, to escape the inconvenience of
calling these dubious organisms by the name of plant or
animal ; but I confess, it appears to me, that the incon
venience which is eluded in one direction, by this step,
is met in two others. Professor Haeckel himself doubts
whether the Fungi ought not to be removed into his
Protista. If they are not, indeed, the Myxomycetes
render the drawing of every line of demarcation between

280 CRITIQUES AND ADDRESSES. [xi.

Protista and Plants impossible. But if they are, who is
to define the Fungi from the Algce ? Yet the seaweeds
are surely, in every respect, plants. On the other hand,
Professor Haeckel puts the sponges among the Ccelente-
rata (or polypes and corals), with the double inconve
nience, as it appears to me, of separating the sponges
from their immediate kindred, the Protoplasta, and de
stroying the definition of the Ccdenterata. So again,
the Infusoria possess all the characters of animality,
but it can hardly be said that they are as clearly allied
to the worms as they are to the Noctilucce.

On the whole, it appears to me to be most conve
nient to adhere to the old plan of calling such of these
low forms as are more animal in habit, Protozoa, and
such as are more vegetal, Protophyta.

Another considerable innovation is the proposition
to divide the class Pisces into the four groups of Lep-
tocardia, Cyclostomata, Pisces, and Dipneusta. As
regards the establishment of a separate class for the
Lancelet (Amphioxus), I think there can be little doubt
of the propriety of so doing, inasmuch as it is far more
different from all other fishes than they are from one
another. And there is much to be said in favour of
the same promotion of the Cyclostomata, or Lampreys
and Hags. But considering the close relation of the
Mudfish with the Ganoidei, and the wide differences
between the Elasmobranchii and the Teleostei, I
greatly doubt the propriety of separating the Dip
neusta, as a class, from the other Pisces.

Professor Haeckel proposes to break up the vertebrate
sub-kingdom, first, into the two provinces of Leptocardia
and Pacliycardia ; Amphioxus being in the former,
and all other vertebrates in the latter division. The
Pachycardia are then divided into Monorhina, which
contains the Cyclostome fishes, distinguished by their

:si.] THE GENEALOGY OF ANIMALS. 881

single nasal aperture ; and Amphirhina, comprising the
other Vertebrata, which have two nasal apertures. These
are further subdivided into Anamnia (Pisces, Dipnemta,
Amphibia) and Amniota (Reptilia, Aves, Mammalia).
This classification undoubtedly expresses many of the
most important facts in vertebrate structure in a clear
and compendious way ; whether it is the best that can
be adopted remains to be seen.

With much reason the Lemurs are removed altogether
from the Primates, under the name of Prosimice. But
I am surprised to find the Sirenia left in one group
with the Cetacea, and the Plesiosauria with the Ichihyo-
sauria ; the ordinal distinctness of these having, to my
mind, been long since fully established.

V. In Professor Haeckel's speculations on Phylogeny,
or the genealogy of animal forms, there is much that is
profoundly interesting, and his suggestions are always
supported by sound knowledge and great ingenuity.
Whether one agrees or disagrees with him, one feels that
he has forced the mind into lines of thought in which it
is'tmore profitable to go wrong than to stand still.

To put his views into a few words, he conceives that
all forms of life originally commenced as Monera, or
simple particles of protoplasm ; and that these Monera
originated from not-living matter. Some of the Monera
acquired tendencies towards the Protistic, others towards
the Vegetal, and others towards the Animal modes of
life. The last became animal Monera. Some of the
animal Monera acquired a nucleus, and became amoeba-
like creatures ; and, out of certain of these, ciliated
infusorium-like animals were developed. These became
modified into two stirpes : A, that of the worms ; and
B, that of the sponges. The latter by progressive modi
fication gave rise to all the Ccelenterata ; the former
to all other animals. But A soon broke up into two

282 CRITIQUES AND ADDRESSES. [xi.

principal stirpes, of which one, a, became the root of the
Annelida, Ecliinodermata, and Arthropoda, while the
other, b, gave rise to the Polyzoa and Ascidioida, and
produced the two remaining stirpes of the Vertebrata
and the Mollusca.

Perhaps the most startling proposition of all those
which Professor Haeckel puts before us is that which
he bases upon Kowalewsky's researches into the deve
lopment of Amphioxus and of the Ascidioida, that the
origin of the Vertebrata is to be sought in an Ascidioid
form. Goodsir long ago insisted upon the resemblance
between Amphioxus and the Ascidians ; but the notion
of a genetic connection between the two, and especially
the identification of the notochord of the Vertebrate
with the axis of the caudal appendage of the larva of
the Ascidian, is a novelty which, at first, takes one's
breath away. I must confess, however, that the more
I have pondered over it, the more grounds appear in
its favour, though I am not convinced that there is any
real parallelism between the mode of development of
the ganglion of the Ascidian and that of the Vertebrate
cerebro-spinal axis.

The hardly less startling hypothesis that the Echino-
derms are coalesced worms, on the other hand, appears
to be open to serious objection. As a matter of anatomy,
it does not seem to me to correspond with fact ; for there
is no worm with a calcareous skeleton, nor any which
has a band-like ventral nerve, superficial to which lies
an ambulacral vessel. And, as a question of develop
ment, the formation of the radiate Echinoderm within
its vermiform larva seems to me to be analogous to the
formation of a radiate Medusa upon a Hydrozoic stock.
But a Medusa is surely not the result of the coalescence
of as many organisms as it presents morphological
segments.

XL] THE GENEALOGY OF ANIMALS. 283

Professor Haeckel adduces the fossil Crossopodia and
Phyllodocites as examples of the Annelidaii forms, by
the coalescence of which the Echinoderms may have
been produced ; but, even supposing the resemblance
of these worms to detached starfish arms to be perfect,
it is possible that they may be the extreme term, and
not the commencement, of Echinoderm development.
A pentacrinoid Echinoderm, with a complete jointed
stalk, is developed within the larva of Antedon. Is
it not possible that the larva of Crossopodia may
have developed a vermiform Echinoderm ?

With respect to the Phylogeny of the Arihropoda, I
find myself disposed to take a somewhat different view
from that of Professor Haeckel. He assumes that the
primary stock of the whole group was a crustacean,
having that Nauplius-iowiL in which Fritz Miiller has
shown that so many Crustacea commence their lives.
All the Entomostraca arose by the modification of some
one or other of these Naupliform " Archicarida."
Other Archicarida underwent a further metamorphosis
into a Zo<m-form. From some of these "Zoeopoda"
arose all the remaining Malacostracous Crustacea;
while, from others, was developed some form analogous
to the existing Galeodes, out of which proceeded, by
gradual differentiation, all the Myriapoda, Arachnida,
and Insecta.

I should be disposed to interpret the facts of the
embryological history and of the anatomy of the Artliro-
poda in a different manner. The Copepoda, the Ostra-
coda, and the Branchiopoda are the Crustacea which
have departed least from the embryonic or Nauplius-
forms ; and, of these, I imagine that the Copepoda
represent the hypothetical Archicarida most closely.
Apus and Sapphirina indicate the relations of these
Archsoocarids with the Tr Hob it a, and the Eurypterida

284 CRITIQUES AND ADDRESSES. [XL

connect the Trilobita and the Copepoda with the
Xiphosura. But the Xiphosura have such close mor
phological relations with the Arachnida, and especially
with the oldest known Arachnidan, Scorpio, that I can
not doubt the existence of a genetic connection between
the two groups. On the other hand, the Branchiopoda
do, even at the present day, almost pass into the true
Podophthalmia, by Nebalia. By' the Trilobita, again,
the Archicarida are connected with such Edriophthal-
mia as Serolis. The Stomapoda are extremely modified
Edrioplithalmia of the amphipod type. On the other
side, the Isopoda lead to the Myriapoda, and the latter
to the Insecta. Thus the Arthropod phylum, which
suggests itself to me, is that the branches of the
Podophthalmia, of the Insecta (with the Myriapoda),
and of the Arachnida, spring separately and distinctly
from the Archseocarid root — and that the Zocea-foTms
occur only at the origin of the Podophthalmous branch.
The phylum of the Vertebrata is the most interesting
of all, and is admirably discussed by Professor Haeckel.
I can note only a few points which seem to me to be
open to discussion. The Mbnorhina, having been
developed out of the Leptocardia, gave rise, according
to Professor Haeckel, to a shark-like form, which was
the common stock of all the Amphirhina. From this
" Protamphirhine " were developed, in divergent lines,
the true Sharks, Rays, and Chimcerce ; the Ganoids, and
the Dipneusta. The Teleostei arc modified Ganoidei.
The Dipneusta gave rise to the Amphibia, which are
the root of all other Vertebrata, inasmuch as out of them
were developed the first Vertebrata provided with an
amnion, or the Protamniota. The Protamniota split
up into two stems, one that of the Mammalia, the
other common to Reptilia and Aves.

The only modification which it occurs tome to suggest

XL] THE GENEALOGY OF ANIMALS. 285

in this general view of the Phylogeny of the Vertebrata
is, that the " Protamphirhine" was possibly more ganoid
than shark-like. So far as our present information goes
the Ganoids are as old as the Sharks ; and it is very
interesting to observe that the remains of the oldest
Ganoids, Cephalaspis and Pteraspis, have as yet displayed
no trace of jaws. It is just possible that they may
connect the Monorhina with the Sturgeons among the
Amphirhina. On the other hand, the Crossopterygian
Ganoids exhibit the closest connection with Lep'idosiren,
and thereby with the Amphibia. It should not be
forgotten that the development of the Lampreys exhibits
curious points of resemblance with that of the Amphibia,
which are absent in the Sharks and Eays. Of the
development of the Ganoidei we have unfortunately no
knowledge, but their brains and their reproductive organs
are more amphibian than are those of the Sharks.

On the whole, I am disposed to think that the direct
stem of ascent from the Monorhina to the Amphibia is
formed by the Ganoids and the Mudfishes ; while the
Osseous fishes and the Sharks are branches in different
directions from this stem.

What the Protamniota were like, I do not suppose
any one is in a position to say, but I cannot think that
the thoroughly Lacertian Protorosaurus had anything to
do with them. The reptiles which are most amphibian
in their characters, and therefore, probably, most nearly
approach the Protamniota, are the Ichthyosauria and
the Chelonia.

That the Didelphia were developed out of some
ornithodelphous form, as Professor Haeckel supposes,
seems to be unquestionable ; but the existing Opossums
and Kangaroos are certainly extremely modified and
remote from their ancestors the " Prodidelphia," of which
we have not, at present the slightest knowledge. The

288 CRITIQUES AND ADDRESSES. [xi.

mode of origin of the Monodelphia from these is a very
difficult problem, for the most part left open by Professor
Haeckel. He considers the Prosimice, or Lemurs, to be
the common stock of the Deciduata, and the Cetacea
(with which he includes the Sirenia) to be modified
Ungulata. As regards the latter question, I have little
doubt that the Sirenia connect the Ungulata with the
Proboscidea ; and none, that the Cetacea are extremely
modified Carnivora. The passage between the Seals
and the Cetacea by Zeuglodon is complete. I also think
that there is much to be said for the opinion, that the
Insectivora represent the common stock of the Primates
(which passed into them by the Prosimice), the Chei
roptera, the Rodentia, and the Carnivora. And I am
greatly disposed to look for the common root of all
the Ungulata, as well, in some ancient non-deciduate
Mammals which were more like Insectivora than any
thing else. On the other hand, the Edentata appear to
form a series by themselves.

The latter part of this notice of the Naturliche
Scliopfungs-Gescliichte, brings so strongly into pro
minence the points of difference between its able
author and myself, that I do not like to conclude
without reminding the reader of my entire concurrence
with the general tenor and spirit of the work, and of
my high estimate of its value.

XII.

BISHOP BEKKELEY ON THE METAPHYSICS OF
SENSATION.1

PROFESSOR, ERASER lias earned the thanks of all students
of philosophy for the conscientious labour which he has
bestowed upon his new edition of the works of Berkeley ;
in which, for the first time, we find collected together
every thought which can be traced to the subtle and
penetrating mind of the famous Bishop of Cloyne ; while
the " Life and Letters " will rejoice those who care less
for the idealist and the prophet of tar-water, than for
the man who stands out as one of the noblest and purest
figures of his time : that Berkeley from whom the jealousy
of Pope did not withhold a single one of all " the vir
tues under heaven ; " nor the cynicism of Swift, the
dignity of "one of the first men of the kingdom for
learning and virtue ; " the man whom the pious Atter-
bury could compare to nothing less than an angel ; and
whose personal influence and eloquence filled the Scrib-
lerus Club and the House of Commons with enthusiasm
for the evangelization of the North American Indians ;

i " The Works of George Berkeley, D.D., formerly Bishop of Cloyne, in
cluding many of his Works hitherto unpublished, with Preface, Annotations,
his Lite and Letters, and an Account of his Philosophy ." By A. C. Fraser.
1'our vols. Oxford : Clarendon Press, 1871.

288 CRITIQUES AND ADDRESSES. [xn.

and even led Sir Eobert Walpole to assent to the appro
priation of public money to a scheme which was neither
business nor bribery.1

Hardly any epoch in the intellectual history of Eng
land is more remarkable in itself, or possesses a greater
interest for us in these latter days, than that which coin
cides broadly with the conclusion of the seventeenth and
the opening of the eighteenth century.

The political fermentation of the preceding age was
gradually working itself out ; domestic peace gave men
time to think ; and the toleration won by the party of
which Locke was the spokesman, permitted a freedom
of speech and of writing such as has rarely been exceeded
in later times.

Fostered by these circumstances, the great faculty for
physical and metaphysical inquiry, with which the people
of our race are naturally endowed, developed itself vigo
rously ; and at least two of its products have had a
profound and a permanent influence upon the subsequent
course of thought in the world. The one of these was
English Freethinking ; the other, the Theory of Gravi
tation.

Looking back to the origin of the intellectual im
pulses of which these were the results, we are led to
Herbert, to Hobbes, to Bacon ; and to one who stands
in advance of all these, as the most typical man of his
time — Descartes. It is the Cartesian doubt — the maxim
that assent may properly be given to no propositions
but such as are perfectly clear and distinct — which,
becoming incarnate, so to speak, in the Englishmen,

1 In justice to Sir Robert, however, it is proper to remark thai lie declared
afterwards, that he gave his assent to Berkeley's scheme for the Bermuda
University only because he thought the House of Commons was sure to throw-
it out.

xii.] THE METAPHYSICS OF SENSATION. 289

Anthony Collins, Toland, Tindal, "VYoolston, and in the
wonderful Frenchman, Pierre Bayle, reached its final
term in Hume.

And, on the other hand, although the theory of
Gravitation set aside the Cartesian vortices — yet the
spirit of the " Principes de Philosophic " attained its
apotheosis when Newton demonstrated all the host of
heaven to be but the elements of a vast mechanism,
regulated by the same laws as those which govern the
falling of a stone to the ground. There is a passage
in the preface to the first edition of the "Principia"
which shows that Newton was penetrated, as completely
as Descartes, with the belief that all the phenomena of
nature are expressible in terms of matter and motion.

" Would that the rest, of the phenomena of nature
could be deduced by a like kind of reasoning from
mechanical principles. For many circumstances lead me
to suspect that all these phenomena may depend upon
certain forces, in virtue of which the particles of bodies,
by causes not yet known, are either mutually impelled
against one another and cohere into regular figures, or
repel and recede from one another ; which forces being
unknown, philosophers have as yet explored nature
in vain. But I hope that, either by this method of
philosophizing, or by some other and better, the prin
ciples here laid down may throw some light upon the
matter."1

But the doctrine that all the phenomena of nature
are resolvable into mechanism is what people have

1 " Utinam ccotera naturae plioenomena ex principiis mcchanicis, eodem argu-
mentandi genere, derivare licet. Nam multa me mo vent, ut nonnihil suspicer
ea omnia ex viribus quibusdam pendere posse, quibus corporum particulse, per
causas nondum cognitas, vel in se mutuo impelluntur et secundum figuras regu-
lares coherent vel ab kivicem fugantur et rccedunt ; quibus viribus ignotis,
Philosophi hactenus Naturam frustra tentarunt. Spero autem quod vel huic
philosopliandi modo, vel veriori, alicui, principia Lie posita Incem aliquam prae-
bebunt."— Preface to First Edition of Principia, May 8, 1686.

290 CRITIQUES AND ADDRESSES. [xn.

agreed to call " materialism ; " and when Locke and
Collins maintained that matter may possibly be able to
think, and Newton himself could compare infinite space
to the sensorium of the Deity, it was not wonderful that
the English philosophers should be attacked as they
were by Leibnitz in the famous letter to the Princess
of Wales, which gave rise to his correspondence with
Clarke.1

" 1. Natural religion itself seems to decay [in Eng
land] very much. Many will have human souls to be
material ; others make God Himself a corporeal Being.

" 2. Mr. Locke and his followers are uncertain, at
least, whether the soul be not material and naturally
perishable. *

" 3. Sir Isaac Newton says that space is an organ
which God makes use of to perceive things by. But if
God stands in need of any organ to perceive things by,
it will follow that they do not depend altogether upon
Him, nor were produced by Him.

" 4. Sir Isaac Newton and his followers have also a
very odd opinion concerning the work of God. Ac
cording to their doctrine, God Almighty wants to wind
up His watch from time to time j otherwise it would
cease to move.2 He had not, it seems, sufficient fore
sight to make it a perpetual motion. Nay, the machine
of God's making is so imperfect, according to these
gentlemen, that He is obliged to clean it now and then
by an extraordinary concourse, and even to mend it as
a clockmaker mends his work/'

It is beside the mark, at present, to inquire how far

1 " Collection of Papers which passed between the late learned Mr. Leibnitz
and Dr. Clarke."— 1717.

a Goethe seems to have had this saying of Leibnitz in his mind when he
wrote his famous lines —

"Was war' ein Gott der nur von aussen stiesse
Im Kreis das All am Finger laufen liesse."

XIL] THE METAPHYSICS OF SENSATION. 291

Leibnitz paints a true picture, and how far he is guilty
of a spiteful caricature of Newton's views in these pas
sages; and whether the beliefs which Locke is known
to have entertained are consistent with the conclusions
which may logically be drawn from some parts of his
works. It is undeniable that English philosophy in Leib
nitz's time had the general character which he ascribes
to it. The phenomena of nature were held to be re
solvable into the attractions and the repulsions of particles
of matter ; all knowledge was attained through the senses;
the mind antecedent to experience was a tabula rasa.
In other words, at the commencement of the eighteenth
century, the character of speculative thought in England
was essentially sceptical, critical, and materialistic. Why
' ' materialism" should be more inconsistent with the
existence of a Deity, the freedom of the will, or the
immortality of the soul, or with any actual or possible
system of theology, than " idealism/' I must declare
myself at a loss to divine. But in the year 1700 all the
world appears to have been agreed, Tertullian notwith
standing, that materialism necessarily leads to very
dreadful consequences. And it was thought that it
conduced to the interests of religion and morality to
attack the materialists with all the weapons that came
to hand. Perhaps the most interesting controversy
which arose out of these questions is the wonderful
triangular duel between Dodwell, Clarke, and Anthony
Collins, concerning the materiality of the soul, and —
what all the disputants considered to be the necessary
consequence of its materiality — its natural mortality. I
do not think that anyone can read the letters which
passed between Clarke and Collins, without admitting
that Collins, who writes with wonderful power and close
ness of reasoning, has by far the best of the argument,
so far as the possible materiality of the soul goes ; and

292 CRITIQUES AND ADDRESSES. [xn.

that, in this battle, the Goliath of Freethinking overcame
the champion of what was considered Orthodoxy.

But in Dublin, all this while, there was a little David
practising his youthful strength upon the intellectual lions
and bears of Trinity College. This was George Berkeley,
who was destined to give the same kind of development
to the idealistic side of Descartes' philosophy, that the
Freethinkers had given to its sceptical side, and the
Newtonians to its mechanical side.

Berkeley faced the problem boldly. He said to the
materialists : " You tell me that all the phenomena of
nature are resolvable into matter and its affections. I
assent to your statement, and now I put to you the
further question, * "What is matter ? ' In answering this
question you shall be bound by your own conditions ;
and I demand, in the terms of the Cartesian axiom, that
in turn you give your assent only to such conclusions as
are perfectly clear and obvious."

It is this great argument which is worked out in the
" Treatise concerning the Principles of Human Know
ledge," and in those " Dialogues between Hylas and
Philonous," which rank among the most exquisite ex
amples of English style, as well as among the subtlest
of metaphysical writings ; and the final conclusion of
which is summed up in a passage remarkable alike for
literary beauty and for calm audacity of statement.

" Some truths there are so near and obvious to the mind that a man
need only open his eyes to see them. Such I take this important one
to be, viz., that all the choir of heaven and furniture of the earth —
in a word, all those bodies which compose the mighty frame of the
world — have not any substance without a mind ; that their being is
to be perceived or known ; that consequently, so long as they are
not actually perceived by me, or do not exist in my mind or that of
any other created spirit, they must either have no existence at all
or else subsist in the mind of some eternal spirit ; it being perfectly
unintelligible, and involving all the absurdity of abstraction, to

xii.] THE METAPHYSICS OF SENSATION. 293

attribute to any single part of them an existence independent of a
spirit." x

Doubtless this passage sounds like the acme of meta
physical paradox, and we all know that " coxcombs
vanquished Berkeley with a grin ; " while common-sense
folk refuted him by stamping on the ground, or some
such other irrelevant proceeding. But the key to all
philosophy lies in the clear apprehension of Berkeley's
problem — which is neither more nor less than one of the
shapes of the greatest of all questions, " What are the
limits of our faculties ? " And it is. worth any amount
of trouble to comprehend the exact nature of the argu
ment by which Berkeley arrived at his results, and to
know by one's own knowledge the great truth which he
discovered — that the honest and rigorous following up of
the argument which leads us to materialism, inevitably
carries us beyond it.

Suppose that I accidentally prick my finger with a
pin. I immediately become aware of a condition of my
consciousness — a feeling which I term pain. I have no
doubt whatever that the feeling is in myself alone ; and
if anyone were to say that the pain I feel is something
which inheres in the needle, as one of the qualities of the
substance of the needle, we should all laugh at the ab
surdity of the phraseology. In fact, it is utterly impos
sible to conceive pain except as a state of consciousness.

Hence, so far as pain is concerned, it is sufficiently
obvious that Berkeley's phraseology is strictly applicable
to our power of conceiving its existence — " its being is
to be perceived or known," and " so long as it is not
actually perceived by me, or does not exist in my mind,
or that of any other created spirit, it must either have
no existence at all, or else subsist in the mind of some
eternal spirit"
1 " Treatise concerning the Principles of Human Knowledge," Part I. § 6.

294 CRITIQUES AND ADDRESSES. [xn.

So much for pain. Now let us consider an ordinary
sensation. Let the point of the pin be gently rested
upon the skin, and I become aware of a feeling or con
dition of consciousness quite different from the former —
the sensation of what I call "touch." Nevertheless this
touch is plainly just as much in myself as the pain was.
I cannot for a moment conceive this something which
I call touch as existing apart from myself, or a being
capable of the same feelings as myself. And the same
reasoning applies to all the other simple sensations. A
moment's reflection is sufficient to convince one that the
smell, and the taste, and the yellowness, of which we
become aware when an orange is smelt, tasted, and seen,
are as completely states of our consciousness as is the
pain which arises if the orange happens to be too sour.
Nor is it less clear that every sound is a state of the
consciousness of him who hears it. If the universe
contained only blind and deaf beings, it is impossible
for us to imagine but that darkness and silence should
reign everywhere.

It is undoubtedly true, then, of all the simple sensa
tions that, as Berkeley says, their " esse is per dpi"
their being is to be "perceived or known/' But that
which perceives, or knows, is mind or spirit ; and there
fore that knowledge which the senses give us is, after all,
a knowledge of spiritual phenomena.

All this was explicitly or implicitly admitted, and,
indeed, insisted upon, by Berkeley's contemporaries, and
by no one more strongly than by Locke, who terms
smells, tastes, colours, sounds, and the like, " secondary
qualities," and observes, with respect to these "secondary
qualities," that " whatever reality we by mistake attri
bute to them [they] are in truth nothing in the objects
themselves."

And again : " Flame is denominated hot and light ;

xn.] THE METAPHYSICS OF SENSATION. 295

snow, white and cold ; and manna, white and sweet,
from the ideas they produce in us ; which qualities are
commonly thought to be the same in these bodies ; that
those ideas are in us, the one the perfect resemblance of
the other as they are in a mirror ; and it would by most
men be judged very extravagant if one should say other
wise. And yet he that will consider that the same fire
that at one distance produces in us the sensation of
warmth, does at a nearer approach produce in us the
far different sensation of pain, ought to bethink himself
what -reason he has to say that his idea of warmth,
which was produced in him by the fire, is actually in
the fire ; and his idea of pain which the same fire pro
duced in him in the same way, is not in the fire. Why
are whiteness and coldness in snow, and pain not, when it
produces the one and the other idea in us ; and can do
neither but by the bulk, figure, number, and motion of
its solid parts ? "

Thus far then materialists and idealists are agreed.
Locke and Berkeley, and all logical thinkers who have
succeeded them, are of one mind about secondary
qualities — their being is to be perceived or known—
their materiality is, in strictness, a spirituality.

But Locke draws a great distinction between the
secondary qualities of matter, and certain others which
he terms " primary qualities." These are extension,
figure, solidity, motion and rest, and number ; and he is
as clear that these primary qualities exist independently
of the mind, as he is that the secondary qualities have
no such existence.

" The particular bulk, number, figure, and motion of the parts of
fire and snow are really in them, whether anyone's senses perceive
them or not, and therefore they may be called real qualities, because
they really exist in those bodies ; but light, heat, whiteness, or coldness,

i Locke, "Human Understanding," Book IT. cliap. viii. §§14, 15.

296 CRITIQUES AND ADDRESSES. [x:i.

are no more really in them, than sickness, or pain, is in manna. Take
away the sensation of them ; let not the eyes see light or colours, nor
the ears hear sounds ; let the palate not taste, nor the nose smell ;
and all colours, tastes, odours and sounds, as they are such particular
ideas, vanish and cease, and are reduced to their causes, i. e. bulk,
figure, and motion of parts.

"18. A piece of manna of sensible bulk is able to produce in us
the idea of a round or square figure ; and, by being removed from one
place to another, the idea of motion. This idea of motion represents
it as it really is in the manna moving ; a circle and square are the
same, whether in idea or existence, in the mind or in the manna ; and
thus both motion and figure are really in the manna, whether we take
notice of them or no : this everybody is ready to agree to."

So far as primary qualities are concerned, then,
Locke is as thoroughgoing a realist as St. Anselm. In
Berkeley, on the other hand, we have as complete a
representative of the nominalists and conceptualists — an
intellectual descendant of Eoscellinus and of Abelard.
And by a curious irony of fate, it is the nominalist who
is, this time, the champion of orthodoxy, and the realist
that of heresy.

Once more let us try to work out Berkeley's principles
for ourselves, and inquire what foundation there is for
the assertion that extension, form, solidity, and the
other " primary qualities," have an existence apart from
mind. And for this purpose let us recur to our experi
ment with the pin.

It has been seen that when the finger is pricked with
a pin, a state of consciousness arises which we call pain ;
and it is admitted that this pain is not a something
which inheres in the pin, but a something which exists
only in the mind, and has no similitude elsewhere.

But a little attention will show that this state of
consciousness is accompanied by another, which can by
no effort be got rid of. I not only have the feeling, but
the feeling is localized. I am just as certain that the
pain is in my finger, as I am that I have it at all.

|0»

xii.] THE METAPHYSICS OF *fe&J y tf$w o ^

Nor will any effort of the imagination .enable me to
believe that the pain is not in my finger.

And yet nothing is more certain than that it is not,
and cannot be, in the spot in which I feel it, nor within
a couple of feet of that spot. For the skin of the finger
is connected by a bundle of fine nervous fibres, which
run up the whole length of the arm, with the spinal
marrow and brain, and we know that the feeling of pain
caused by the prick of a pin is dependent on the integrity
of those fibres. After they have been cut through close
to the spinal cord, no pain will be felt, whatever injury
is done to the finger ; and if the ends which remain in
connection with the cord be pricked, the pain which
arises will appear to have its seat in the finger just as
distinctly as before. Nay, if the whole arm be cut off,
the pain which arises from pricking the nerve stump will
appear to be seated in the fingers, just as if they were
still connected with the body.

It is perfectly obvious, therefore, that the. localization
of the pain at the surface of the body is an act of the
mind. It is an extradition of that consciousness, which
has its seat in the brain, to a definite point of the
body — which takes place without our volition, and may
give rise to ideas which are contrary to fact. We might
call this extradition of consciousness a reflex feeling,
just as we speak of a movement which is excited apart
from, or contrary to, our volition, as a reflex motion.
Locality is no more in the pin than pain is ; of the
former, as of the latter, it is true that " its being is to
be perceived," and that its existence apart from a think
ing mind is not conceivable.

The foregoing reasoning will be in no way affected, if,
instead of pricking the finger, the point of the pin rests
gently against it, so as to give rise merely to a tactile
sensation. The tactile sensation is referred outwards to

298 CRITIQUES AND ADDRESSES. [xn.

the point touched, and seems to exist there. But it
is certain that it is not and cannot be there really,
because the brain is the sole seat of consciousness ; and,
further, because evidence, as strong as that in favour
of the sensation being in the finger, can be brought
forward in support of propositions which are manifestly
absurd.

For example, the hairs and nails are utterly devoid
of sensibility, as everyone knows. Nevertheless, if the
ends of the nails or hairs are touched, ever so lightly, we
feel that they arettouched, and the sensation seems to be
situated in the nails or hairs. Nay more, if a walking-
stick a yard long is held firmly by the handle and the
other end is touched, the tactile sensation, which is a
state of our own consciousness, is unhesitatingly referred
to the end of the stick ; and yet no one will say that it
is there.

Let us now suppose that, instead of one pin's point
resting against the end of my finger, there are two.
Each of these can be known to me, as we have seen,
only as a state of a thinking mind, referred outwards, or
localized. But the existence of these two states, some
how or other, generates in my mind a host of new ideas,
which did not make their appearance when only one
state was present.

For example, I get the ideas of co-existence, of
number, of distance, and of relative place or direction.
But all these ideas are ideas of relations, and imply the
existence of something which perceives those relations.
If a tactile sensation is a state of the mind, and if the
localization of that sensation is an act of the mind, how
is it conceivable that a relation between two localized
sensations should exist apart from the mind ? It is, I
confess, quite as easy for me to imagine that redness
may exist apart from a visual sense, as it is to suppose

XH. J THE METAPHYSICS OF SENSATION. 299

that co-existence, number, and distance can have any
existence apart from the mind of which they are ideas.

Thus it seems clear that the existence of some, at any
rate, of Locke's primary qualities of matter, such as
number and extension, apart from mind, is as utterly
unthinkable as the existence of colour and sound under
like circumstances.

Will the others — namely, figure, motion and rest, and
solidity — withstand a similar criticism ? I think not.
For all these, like the foregoing, are perceptions by the
mind of the relations of two or more* sensations to one
another. If distance and place are inconceivable, in the
absence of the mind of which they are ideas, the inde
pendent existence of figure, which is the limitation of
distance, and of motion, which is change of place, must
be equally inconceivable. Solidity requires more par
ticular consideration, as it is a term applied to two very
different things, the one of which is solidity of form,
or geometrical solidity ; while the other is solidity of
substance, or mechanical solidity.

If those motor nerves of a man by which volitions are
converted into motion were all paralysed, and if sensa
tion remained only in the palm of his hand (which is a
conceivable case), he would still be able to attain to
clear notions of extension, figure, number, and motion, by
attending to the states of consciousness which might be
aroused by the contact of bodies with the sensory surface
of the palm. But it does not appear that such a person
could arrive at any conception of geometrical solidity.
For that which does not come in contact with the
sensory surface is non-existent for the sense of touch ;
and a solid body, impressed upon the palm of the hand,
gives rise only to the notion of the extension of that
particular part of the solid which is in contact with
the skin.

800 CRITIQUES AND ADDRESSES. [xii.

Nor is it possible that the idea of outness (in the
sense of discontinuity with the sentient body) could be
attained by such a person ; for, as we have seen, every
tactile sensation is referred to a point either of the
natural sensory surface itself, or of some solid in con
tinuity with that surface. Hence it would appear that
the conception of the difference between the Ego and
the non-Ego could not be attained by a man thus
situated. His feelings would be his universe, and his
tactile sensations his " mcenia mundi." Time would
exist for him as for us, but space would have only two
dimensions.

But now remove the paralysis from the motor appa
ratus, and give the palm of the hand of our imaginary
man perfect freedom to move, so as to be able to glide
in all directions over the bodies with which it is in con
tact. Then with the consciousness of that mobility, tte
notion of space of three dimensions — which is " Raum"
or " room " to move with perfect freedom — is at once
given. But the notion that the tactile surface itself
moves, cannot be given by touch alone, which is com
petent to testify only to the fact of change of place, not
to its cause. The idea of the motion of the tactile
surface could not, in fact, be attained, unless the idea
of change of place were accompanied by some state of
consciousness, which does not exist when the tactile sur
face is immoveable. This state of consciousness is what
is termed the muscular sense, and its existence is very
easily demonstrable.

Suppose the back of my hand to rest upon a table,
and a sovereign to rest upon the upturned palm, I at
once acquire a notion of extension, and of the limit of
that extension. The impression made by the circular
piece of gold is quite different from that which would
be made by a triangular, or a square, piece of the same

xii.j TUB METAPHYSICS OF SENSATION. 301

size, and thereby I arrive at the notion of figure. More
over, if the sovereign slides over the palm, I acquire a
distinct conception of change of place or motion, and
of the direction of that motion. For as the sovereign
slides, it affects new nerve-endings, and gives rise to new
states of consciousness. Each of them is definitely and
separately localized by a reflex act of the mind, which,
at the same time, becomes aware of the difference between
two successive localizations; and therefore of change of
place, which is motion.

If, while the sovereign lies on the hand, the latter
being kept quite steady, the fore-arm is gradually and
slowly raised ; the tactile sensations, with all their accom
paniments, remain exactly as they were. But, at the
same time, something new is introduced; namely, the
sense of effort. If I try to discover where this sense of
effort seems to be, I find myself somewhat perplexed at
first ; but, if I hold the fore-arm in position long enough,
I become aware of an obscure sense of fatigue, which is
apparently seated either in the muscles of the arm, or in
the integument directly over them. The fatigue seems
to be related to the sense of effort, in much the same
way as the pain which supervenes upon the original
sense of contact, when a pin is slowly pressed against
the skin, is related to touch.

A little attention will show that this sense of effort
accompanies every muscular contraction by which the
limbs, or other parts of the body, are moved. By its
agency the fact of their movement is kno*wn ; while the
direction of the motion is given by the accompanying
tactile sensations. And, in consequence of the. incessant
association of the muscular and the tactile sensations,
they become so fused together that they are often con
founded under the same name.

If freedom to move in all directions is the very essence

302 CRITIQUES AND ADDRESSES. [xn.

of that conception of space of three dimensions which
we obtain by the sense of touch ; and if tt c freedom to
move is really another name for the feeling of unopposed
effort, accompanied by that of change of place, it is surely
impossible to conceive of such space as having existence
apart from that which is conscious of effort.

But it may be said that we derive our conception of
space of three dimensions not only from touch, but from
vision ; that if we do not feel things actually outside us,
at any rate we see them. And it was exactly this diffi
culty which presented itself to Berkeley at the outset of
his speculations. He met it, with characteristic bold
ness, by denying that we do see things outside us ; and,
with no less characteristic ingenuity, by devising that
"New Theory of Vision " which has met with wider
acceptance than any of his views, though it has been the
subject of continual controversies.1

In the " Principles of Human Knowledge," Berkeley
himself tells us how he was led to those views which
he published in the " Essay towards the New Theory
of Vision."

" It will bo objected that we see things actually without, or at
a distance from us, and which consequently do not exist in the mind ;
it being absurd that those things which are seen at the distance of
several miles, should be as near to us as our own thoughts. In answer
to this, I desire it may be considered that in a dream we do oft perceive
things as existing at a great distance off, and yet, for all that, those
things are acknowledged to have their existence only in the mind.

" But for the fuller clearing of this point, it may be worth while to
consider how it is that \ve perceive distance and things placed at a
distance by sight. For that we should in truth see external space
and bodies actually existing in it, some nearer, others farther off,

1 I have not specifically alluded to the writings of Bailey, Mill, Abbott, and
others, on this vexed question, not because I have failed to study them carefully,
hut because this is not a convenient occasion for controversial discussion.
Those who are acquainted with the subject, however, will observe that the view
I have taken agrees substantially with that of Mr. Bailey.

xii.] THE METAPHYSICS OF SENSATION. 303

seems to carry with it some opposition to what hath been said of their
existing nowhere without the mind. The consideration of this
difficulty it v. that gave birth to my 'Essay towards the New
Theory of Vision/ which was published not long since, wherein it is
shown that distance, or outness, is neither immediately of itself per
ceived by sight, nor yet apprehended, or judged of, by lines and angles
or anything that hath any necessary connection with it ; but that it
is only suggested to our thoughts by certain visible ideas and sensa
tions attending vision, which, in their own nature, have no manner
of similitude or relation either with distance, or with things placed .
at a distance ; but by a connection taught us by experience, they
come to signify and suggest them to us, after the same manner that
words of any language suggest the ideas they are made to stand
for ; insomuch that a man born blind and afterwards made to see,
would not, at first sight, think the things he saw to be without his
mind or at any distance from him."

The key-note of the Essay to which Berkeley refers
in this passage is to be found in an italicized paragraph
of section 127 : —

" The extensions, figures, and motions perceived by sight are specifically
distinct from the ideas of touch called by the same names ; nor is there
any such thing as an idea, or kind of idea, common to both senses."

It will be observed that this proposition expressly
declares that extension, figure, and motion, and conse
quently distance, are immediately perceived by sight as
well as by touch ; but that visual distance, extension,
figure, and motion, are totally different in quality from
the ideas of the same name obtained through the sense
of touch. And other passages leave no doubt that such
was Berkeley's meaning. Thus in the 112th section of
the same Essay, he carefully defines the two kinds of
distance, one visual, the other tangible : —

" By the distance between any two points nothing more is meant
than the number of intermediate points. If the given points are
visible, the distance between them is marked out by the number
of interjacent visible points; if they are tangible, the distance between
them is a line consisting of tangible points."

304 CRITIQUES AND ADDRESSES. [xn.

Again, there are two sorts of magnitude or exten
sion :—

" It has been shown that there are two sorts of objects apprehended
by sight, each whereof has its distinct magnitude or extension : the
one properly tangible, i.e. to be perceived and measured by touch, and
not immediately falling under the sense of seeing ; the other properly
and immediately visible, by mediation of which the former is brought
into view." — § 55.

But how are we to reconcile these passages with others
which will be perfectly familiar to every reader of the
" New Theory of Vision " ? As, for example : —

"It is, I think, agreed by all, that distance of itself, and imme
diately, cannot be seen." — § 2.

" Space or distance, we have shown, is no otherwise the object of
sight than of hearing."— § 130.

" Distance is in its own nature imperceptible, and yet it is per
ceived by sight. It remains, therefore, that it is brought into view by
means of some other idea, that is itself immediately perceived in the
act of vision." — § 11.

"Distance or external space." — § 155.

The explanation is quite simple, arid lies in the fact
that Berkeley uses the word "distance" in three senses.
Sometimes he employs it to denote visible distance, and
then he restricts it to distance in two dimensions, or
simple extension. Sometimes he means tangible distance
in two dimensions ; but most commonly he intends to
signify tangible distance in the third dimension. And
it is in this sense that he employs " distance " as the
equivalent of "space." Distance in two dimensions is,
for Berkeley, not space, but extension. By taking a
pencil and interpolating the wrords " visible " and " tan
gible " before " distance " wherever the context renders
them necessary, Berkeley's statements may be made per
fectly consistent ; though he has not always extricated
himself from the entanglement caused by his own loose
phraseology, which rises to a climax in the last ten

xii.] THE METAPHYSICS OF SENSATION. 305

sections of the " Theory of Vision," in which he endea
vours to prove that a pure intelligence able to see, but
devoid of the sense of touch, could have no idea of a
plane figure. Thus he says in section 156 : —

" All that is properly perceived by the visual faculty amounts to
no more than colours with their variations and different proportions
of light and shade ; but the perpetual mutability and fleetingness
of those immediate objects of sight render them incapable of being
managed after the manner of geometrical figures, nor is it in any
degree useful that they should. It is true there be divers of them
perceived at once, and more of some and less of others ; but accurately
to compute their magnitude, and assign precise determinate proportions
between things so variable and inconstant, if we suppose it possible to
be done, must yet be a very trifling and insignificant labour."

If, by this, Berkeley means that by vision alone, a
straight line cannot be distinguished from a curved one,
a circle from a square, a long line from a short one, a
large angle from a small one, his position is surely
absurd in itself and contradictory to his own previously
cited admissions ; if he only means, on tho other hand,
that his pure spirit could not get very far on in his
geometry, it may be true or not ; but it is in contra
diction with his previous assertion, that such a pure
spirit could never attain to know as much as the first
elements of plane geometry.

Another source of confusion, which arises out of Berke
ley's insufficient exactness in the use of language, is to
be found in what he says about solidity, in discussing
Molyneux's problem, whether a man born blind and
having learned to distinguish between a cube and a
sphere, could; on receiving his sight, tell the one from
the other by vision. Berkeley agrees with Locke that
he could not, and adds the following reflection : —

" Cube, sphere, table, are words he has known applied to things
perceivable by touch, but to things perfectly intangible he never
knew them applied. Those words in their wonted application always

306 CRITIQUES AND ADDRESSES. [xn.

marked out to his mind bodies or solid things which were perceived by
the resistance they gave. But there is no solidity, no resistance or
protrusion perceived by sight."

Here " solidity " means resistance to pressure, which is
apprehended by the muscular sense ; but when in section
154 Berkeley says of his pure intelligence- —

" It is certain that the aforesaid intelligence could have no idea of a
solid or quantity of three dimensions, which follows from its not having
any idea of distance " —

he refers to that notion of solidity which may be ob
tained by the tactile sense, without the addition of any
notion of resistance in the solid object ; as, for example,
when the finger passes lightly over the surface of a
billiard ball.

Yet another source of difficulty in clearly understand
ing Berkeley arises out of his use of the word " outness."
In speaking of touch he seems to employ it indifferently,
both for the localization of a tactile sensation in the
sensory surface, which we really obtain through touch ;
and for the notion of corporeal separation, which is
attained by the association of muscular and tactile
sensations. In speaking of sight, on the other hand,
Berkeley employs " outness " to denote corporeal sepa
ration.

When due allowance is made for the occasional loose
ness and ambiguity of Berkeley's terminology, and the
accessories are weeded out of the essential parts of his
famous Essay, his views may, I believe, be fairly and
accurately summed up in the following propositions : —

1. The sense of touch gives rise to ideas of extension,
figure, magnitude, and motion.

2. The sense of touch gives rise to the idea of " out
ness," in the sense of localization.

3. The sense of touch gives rise to the idea of resist-

xii.] TEE METAPHYSICS OF SENSATION. 307

ance, and thence to that of solidity, in the sense of
impenetrability.

4. The sense of touch gives rise to the idea of " out
ness," in the sense of distance in the third dimension,
and thence to that of space, or geometrical solidity.

5. The sense of sight gives rise to ideas of extension,
of figure, magnitude, and motion.

6. The sense of sight does not give rise to the idea of
" outness," in the sense of distance in the third dimen
sion, nor to that of geometrical solidity, no visual idea
appearing to be without the mind, or at any distance
off (H 43, 50).

7. The sense of sight does not give rise to the idea of
mechanical solidity.

8. There is no likeness whatever between the tactile
ideas called extension, figure, magnitude, and motion,
and the visual ideas which go by the same names ; nor
are any ideas common to the two senses.

9. When we think we see objects at a distance, what
really happens is that the visual picture suggests that the
object seen has tangible distance ; we confound the strong
belief in the tangible distance of the object with actual
sight of its distance.

10. Visual ideas, therefore, constitute a kind of
language, by which we are informed of the tactile
ideas which will, or may, arise in us.

Taking these propositions into consideration seriatim.,
it may be assumed that everyone will assent to the first
and second ; and that for the third and fourth we have
only to include the muscular sense under the name of
sense of touch, as Berkeley did, in order to make it quite
accurate. Nor is it intelligible to me that anyone should
explicitly deny the truth of the fifth proposition, though
some of Berkeley's supporters, less careful than himself,
have done so. Indeed, it must be confessed that it is

308 CRITIQUES AND ADDRESSES. [sn.

only grudgingly, and as it were against his will, that
Berkeley admits that we obtain ideas of extension,
figure, and magnitude by pure vision, and that he
more than half retracts the admission ; while he abso
lutely denies that sight gives us any notion of outness
in either sense of the word, and even declares that "no
proper visual idea appears to be without the mind, or at
any distance off." By "proper visual ideas," Berkeley
denotes colours, and light, and shade ; and, therefore, he
affirms that colours do not appear to be at any distance
from us. I confess that this assertion appears to me to
be utterly unaccountable. I have made endless experi
ments on this point, and by no effort 'of the imagination
can I persuade myself, when looking at a colour, that
the colour is in my mind, and not at a " distance off/'
though of course I know perfectly well, as a matter of
reason, that colour is subjective. It is like looking at the
sun setting, and trying to persuade oneself that the earth
appears to move and not the sun, a feat I have never
been able to accomplish. Even when the eyes are shut,
the darkness of which one is conscious, carries with it
the notion of outness. One looks, so to speak, into a
dark space. Common language expresses the common
experience of mankind in this matter. A man will say
that a smell is in his nose, a taste in his mouth, a singing
in his ears, a creeping or a warmth in his skin ; but if he
is jaundiced, he does not say that he has yellow in his
eyes, but that everything looks yellow; and if he is
troubled with muscce volitantes, he says, not that he has
specks in his eyes, but that he sees specks dancing before
his eyes. In fact, it appears to me that it is the special
peculiarity of visual sensations, that they invariably give
rise to the idea of remoteness, and that Berkeley's dictum
ought to be reversed. For I think that anyone who
interrogates his consciousness carefully will find that

xii.] THE METAPHYSICS OF SENSATION. 309

"every proper visual idea " appears to be without the
mind and at a distance off.

Not only does every visibile appear to be remote, but
it has a position in external space, just as a tangibile
appears to be superficial and to have a determinate
position on the surface of the body. Every visibile, in
fact, appears (approximately) to be situated upon a line
drawn from it to the point of the retina on which its
image falls. It is referred outwards, in the general
direction of the pencil of light by which it is rendered
visible, just as, in the experiment with the stick, the
tangibile is referred outwards to the end of the stick.

It is for this reason that an object, viewed with both
eyes, is seen single and not double. Two distinct images
are formed, but each image is referred to that point at
which the two optic axes intersect ; consequently, the
two images exactly cover one another, and appear as
completely one as any other two exactly similar super
imposed images would be. And it is for the same reason,
that, if the ball of the eye is pressed upon at any point,
a spot of light appears apparently outside the eye, and
in a region exactly opposite to that in which the pressure
is made.

But while it seems to me that there is no reason to
doubt that the extradition of sensation is more complete
in the case of the eye than in that of the skin, and that
corporeal distinctness, and hence space, are directly sug
gested by vision, it is another, and a much more difficult
question, wrhether the notion of geometrical solidity is
attainable by pure vision ; that is to say, by a single
eye, all the parts of which are immoveable. However
this may be, for an absolutely fixed eye, I conceive there
can be no doubt in the case of an eye that is moveable
and capable of adjustment. For, with the moveable
eye, the muscular sense comes into pky in exactly the

310 CRITIQUES AND ADDRESSES. [xn.

same way as with the moveable hand ; and the notion
of change of place, plus the sense of effort, gives rise to a
conception of visual space, which runs exactly parallel
with that of tangible space. "When two moveable eyes
are present, the notion of space of three dimensions is
obtained in the same way as it is by the two hands, but
with much greater precision.

And if, to take a case similar to one already assumed,
we suppose a man deprived of every sense except vision,
and of all motion except that of his eyes, it surely cannot
be doubted that he would have a perfect conception of
space ; and indeed a much more perfect conception than
he who possessed touch alone without vision. But of
course our touchless man would be devoid of any notion
of resistance ; and hence space, for him, would be alto
gether geometrical and devoid of body.

And here another curious consideration arises, what
likeness, if any, would there be between the visual space
of the one man, and the tangible space of the other ?

Berkeley, as we have seen (in the eighth proposition),
declares that there is no likeness between the ideas given
by sight and those given by touch ; and one cannot but
agree with him, so long as the term ideas is restricted to
mere sensations. Obviously, there is no more likeness
between the feel of a surface and the colour of it, than
there is between its colour and its smell. All simple
sensations, derived from different senses, are incommen
surable with one another, and only gradations of their
own intensity are comparable. And thus so far as the
primary facts of sensation go, visual figure and tactile
figure, visual magnitude and tactile magnitude, visual
motion and tactile motion, are truly unlike, and have no
common term. But when Berkeley goes further than
this, and declares that there are no " ideas " common
to the " ideas " of touch and those of sight, it appears to

xii.] THE METAPHYSICS OF SENSATION. 311

me that he has fallen into a great error, and one which
is the chief source of his paradoxes about geometry.

Berkeley in fact employs the word " idea " in this
instance to denote two totally different classes of feelings,
or states of consciousness. For these may be divided
into two groups : the primary feelings, which exist in
themselves and without relation to any other, such as
pleasure and pain, desire, and the simple sensations ob
tained through the sensory organs ; and the secondary
feelings, which express those relations of primary feelings
which are perceived by the mind ; and the existence of
which, therefore, implies the pre-existence of at least two
of the primary feelings. Such are likeness and unlike-
ness in quality, quantity, or form ; succession and con
temporaneity ; contiguity and distance ; cause and effect ;
motion and rest.

Now it is quite true that there is no likeness between
the primary feelings which are grouped under sight and
touch ; but it appears to me wholly untrue, and indeed
absurd, to affirm that there is no likeness between the
secondary feelings which express the relations of the
primary ones.

The relation of succession perceived between the visible
taps of a hammer, is, to my mind, exactly like the
relation of succession between the tangible taps ; the un-
likeness between red and blue is a mental phenomenon
of the same order as the unlikeness between rough and
smooth. Two points visibly distant are so, because one
or more units of visible length (minima msibilict) are
interposed between them ; and as two points tangibly
distant are so, because one or more units of tangible
length (minima tangibilia) are interposed between them,
it is clear that the < notion of interposition of units of
sensibility, or minima sensibilia, is an idea common to
the two. And whether I see a point move across the

312 CRITIQUES AND ADDRESSES. [XH.

field of vision towards another point, or feel the like
motion, the idea of the gradual diminution of the number
of sensible units between the two points appears to me
to be common to both kinds of motion.

Hence, I conceive, that though it be true that there
is no likeness between the primary feelings given by
sight and those given by touch, yet there is a com
plete likeness between the secondary feelings aroused
by each sense.

Indeed, if it were not so, how could Logic, which
deals with those forms of thought which are applicable
to every kind of subject-matter, be possible ? How could
numerical proportion be as true of visibilia, as of tan-
gibilia, unless there were some ideas common to the
two ? And to come directly to the heart of the matter,
is there any more difference between the relations
between tangible sensations which we call place and
direction, and those between visible sensations which go
by the same name, than there is between those relations
of tangible and visible sensations which we call suc
cession I And if there be none, why is Geometry not
just as much a matter of visibilia as of tangibilia?

Moreover, as a matter of fact, it is certain that the
muscular sense is so closely connected with both the
visual and the tactile senses, that, by the ordinary laws
of association, the ideas which it suggests must needs be
common to both.

From what has been said it will follow that the ninth
proposition falls to the ground ; and that vision, combined
with the muscular sensations produced by the movement
of the eyes, gives us as complete a notion of corporeal
separation and of distance in the third dimension of space,
as touch, combined with the muscular sensations pro
duced by the movements of the hand, does. The tenth
proposition seems to contain a perfectly true statement,

:oi,] THE METAPHYSICS OF SENSATION, 313

but it is only half the truth. It is no doubt true that
our visual ideas are a kind of language by which we are
informed of the tactile ideas which may or will arise in
us ; but this is true, more or less, of every sense in re
gard to every other. If I put my hand in my pocket,
the tactile ideas which I receive prophesy quite accu
rately what I shall see — whether a bunch of keys or
half-a-crown — when I pull it out again ; and the tactile
ideas are, in this case, the language which informs me
of the visual ideas which will arise. So with the other
senses : olfactory ideas tell me I shall find the tactile and
visual phenomena called violets, if I look for them ; taste
tells me that what I am tasting will, if I look at it, have
the form of a clove ; and hearing warns me of what I shall,
or may, see and touch every minute of my life.

But while the "New Theory of Vision" cannot be
considered to possess much value in relation to the
immediate object its author had in view, it had a vastly
important influence in directing attention to the real
complexity of many of those phenomena of sensation,
which appear at first to be simple. And even if Berkeley
was, as I imagine he was, quite wrong in supposing that
we do not see space, the contrary doctrine makes quite
as strongly for his general view, that space can be con
ceived only as something thought by a mind.

The last of Locke's " primary qualities " which remain
to be considered is mechanical solidity, or impenetrability.
But our conception of this is derived from the sense of
resistance to our own effort, or active force, which we
meet with in association with sundry tactile or visual
phenomena ; and, undoubtedly, active force is incon
ceivable except as a state of consciousness. This may
sound paradoxical ; but let anyone try to realize what
he means by the mutual attraction of two particles, and
I think he will find, either, that he conceives them

314 CRITIQUES AND ADDRESSES. [xn.

simply as moving towards one another at a certain rate,
in which, case he only pictures motion to himself, and
leaves force aside ; or, that he conceives each particle to
be animated by something like his own volition, and to
be pulling as he would pull. And I suppose that this
difficulty of thinking of force except as something com
parable to volition, lies at the bottom of Leibnitz's
doctrine of monads, to say nothing of Schopenhauer's
" Welt als "Wille und Vorstellung ;" while the opposite
difficulty of conceiving force to be anything like volition,
drives another school of thinkers into the denial of any
connection, save that of succession, between cause and
effect.

To sum up. If the materialist affirms that the
universe and all its phenomena are resolvable into
matter and motion, Berkeley replies, True ; but what
you call matter and motion are known to us only as
forms of consciousness ; their being is to be conceived
or known ; and the existence of a state of conscious
ness, apart from a thinking mind, is a contradiction
in terms.

I conceive that this reasoning is irrefragable. And
therefore, if I were obliged to choose between absolute
materialism and absolute idealism, I should feel com
pelled to accept the latter alternative. Indeed, upon
this point Locke does, practically, go as far in the
direction of idealism as Berkeley, when he admits that
" the simple ideas we receive from sensation and reflec
tion are the boundaries of our thoughts, beyond which
the mind, whatever efforts it would make, is not able
to advance one jot." — Book II. chap, xxiii. § 29.

But Locke adds, " Nor can it make any discoveries
when it would pry into the nature and hidden causes of
these ideas."

XIL] THE METAPHYSICS OF SENSATION. 315

Now, from this proposition, the thorough materialists
dissent as much, on the one hand, as Berkeley does, upon
the other hand.

The thorough materialist asserts that there is a some
thing which he calls the " substance " of matter ; that
this something is the cause of all phenomena, whether
material or mental ; that it is self-existent and eternal,
and so forth.

Berkeley, on the contrary, asserts with equal confidence
that there is no substance of matter, but only a substance
of mind, which he terms spirit ; that there are two kinds
of spiritual substance, the one eternal and uncreated,
the substance of the Deity, the other created, and, once
created, naturally eternal ; that the universe, as known to
created spirits, has no being in itself, but is the result of
the action of the substance of the Deity on the substance
of those spirits.

In contradiction to which bold assertion, Locke affirms
that we simply know nothing aboub substance of any
kind.1

" So that if anyone will examine himself concerning his notion of
pure substance in general, he will find he has no other idea of it at all,
but only a supposition of he knows not what support of such qualities,
which are capable of producing simple ideas in us, which qualities are
commonly called accidents.

" If anyone should be asked, what is the subject wherein colour or
weight inheres 1 he would have nothing to say but the solid extended
parts ; and if he were demanded what is it that solidity and extension
inhere in ] he would not be in much better case than the Indian
before mentioned, who, urging that the world was supported by a
great elephant, was asked what the elephant rested on 1 to which his
answer was, a great tortoise. But being again pressed to know what
gave support to the broad-backed tortoise ? replied, something, he knew

1 Berkeley virtually makes the same confession of ignorance, when he admits
that we can have no idea or notion of a spirit (" Principles of Human Know
ledge," § 138) ; and the way in which he tries to escape the consequences of this
admission, is a splendid example of the floundering of a mired logician.

316 CRITIQUES AND ADDRESSES. [xn.

not what. And thus here, as in all other cases when we use words
without having clear and distinct ideas, we talk like children, who,
being questioned what such a thing is, readily give this satisfactory
answer, that it is something ; which in truth signifies no more when so
used, either by children or men, but that they know not what, and
that the thing they pretend to talk and know of is what they have no
distinct idea of at all, and are, so, perfectly ignorant of it and in the
dark. The idea, then, we have, to which we give the general name
substance, being nothing but the supposed but unknown support
of those qualities we find existing, which we imagine cannot exist sine
re substante, without something to support them, we call that support
substa?itia, which, according to the true import of the word, is, in
plain English, standing under or upholding."1

I cannot but believe that the judgment of Locke is that
which Philosophy will accept as her final decision.

Suppose that a piano were conscious of sound, and of
nothing else. It would become acquainted with a
system of nature entirely composed of sounds, and the
laws of nature would be the laws of melody and of
harmony. It might acquire endless ideas of likeness
and unlikeness, of succession, of similarity and dissimi
larity, but it could attain to no conception of space,
of distance, or of resistance ; or of figure, or of motion.

The piano might then reason thus : All my know
ledge consists of sounds and the perception of the relar-
tions of sounds ; now the being of sound is to be heard ;
and it is inconceivable that the existence of the sounds
I know, should depend upon any other existence than
that of the mind of a hearing being.

This would be quite as good reasoning as Berkeley's,
and very sound and useful, so far as it defines the limits
of the piano's faculties. But for all that, pianos have
an existence quite apart from sounds, and the auditory
consciousness of our speculative piano would be depen
dent, in the first place, on the existence of a " substance "
of brass, wood, and iron, and, in the second, on that of a

1 Locke, " Human Understanding," Book II. chap. xxiii. § 2.

xii.] THE METAPHYSICS OF SENSATION. 317

musician. But of neither of these conditions of the
existence of his consciousness would the phenomena of
that consciousness afford him the slightest hint.

So that while it is the summit of human wisdom to
learn the limit of our faculties, it may be wise to recol
lect that we have no more right to make denials, than to
put forth affirmatives, about what lies beyond that limit.
Whether either mind, or matter, has a " substance " or
not, is a problem which we are incompetent to discuss ;
and it is just as likely that the common notions upon
the subject should be correct as any others. Indeed,
Berkeley himself makes Philonous wind up his discus
sions with Hylas, in a couple of sentences which aptly
express this conclusion : —

" You see, Hylas, the water of yonder fountain, how it is forced
upwards in a round column to a certain height, at which it breaks
and falls back into the basin from whence it rose ; its ascent as well
as its descent proceeding from the same uniform law or principle
of gravitation. Just so, the same principles which, at first view, lead
to scepticism, pursued to a certain point, bring men back to common
sense."

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