ornia al i f n\ , l/J ' HEREDITY. BY THE SAME AUTHOR. CONTEMPORARY ENGLISH PSYCHOLOGY. From the French of PROFESSOR TH. RIBOT. Large I2mo. Price, $1.50. An Analysis of the Views and Opinions of the fol- lowing Metaphysicians, as expressed in their writings : — JAMES MILL I GEORGE H. LEWES ALEXANDER BAIN HERBERT SPENCER JOHN STUART MILL | SAMUEL BAILEY "The task which M. Ribot set himself he has performed with rery great success." — Examiner. " We can cordially recommend the volume."— Journal of Mental Science. NEW YORK: D. APPLETON & CO. HEREDITY: A PSYCHOLOGICAL STUDY OF ITS PHENOMENA, LAWS, CAUSES, AND CONSEQUENCES. FXOX THE FRENCH OP TH. KIBOT, ACTHOtt O* " CONTEMPORARY ENGLISH PSYCHOLOGY." NEW YORK: D. APPLETON AND COMPANY, I, a, AJW 5 BOND STfiEET. 188Y. CONTENTS. INTRODUCTION. PHYSIOLOGICAL HEREDITY PART FIRST. THE FACTS. CHAPTER L HEREDITY OF INSTINCTS. I. Heredity of Natural Instincts ... ... ... ..; 13 II. Heredity of Acquired Instincts ... ... ... ... 16 III. What is Instinct ? ... ... ... ... ... ... 19 IV. Origin of Instincts : sire they Hereditary Habit ? ... ... 26 CHAPTER II. HEREDITY OF THE SENSORIAL QUALITIES. I. Heredity of Touch ... ... ... ... ... 36 IL Heredity of Sight ... ... ... ... ... 38 III. Heredity of Hearing ... ... ... ... ... 41 IV. Heredity of SmeU and Taste ... ... ... ... 43 vi Contents. CHAPTER III. HEREDITY OF THE MEMORY. PACE L Memory referred to Habit, and to the Law of the Indestructi- bility of Force ... ... ... ... ... • 46 II. Heredity, Specific Memory ; Heredity of Memory ... ... 52 CHAPTER IV. HEREDITY OF THE IMAGINATION. I. The Esthetic Imagination ... f ... ... ... ... 54 II. Heredity of Imagination in Poets ... ... ... ... 56 III. Heredity of Imagination in Painters ... ... ... ... 60 IV. Heredity of Imagination in Musicians ... ... ... 63 CHAPTER V. HEREDITY OF THE INTELLECT. L Is Intelligence in its highest form Heritable ? Empiricism and Idealism in accord ... ... ... ... ... 65 II. Heredity in Men of Science, Philosophers, and Economists ... 72 III. Heredity in Authors and Men of Letters ... ... ... 77 CHAPTER VI. HEREDITY OF THE SENTIMENTS AND THE PASSIONS. I. Psychological Study of Sentiment ... ... ... ... 80 II. Physical Tendencies : Heredity of General Sensibility ; of Anti- pathy; of the Sexual Appetite ; of Dipsomania ... ... 83 III. Moral Tendencies : their Heredity ; Gaming, Avarice, Theft, Homicide. Relations between Passion and Insanity ... ... 90 CHAPTER VII. HEREDITY OF THE WILL. I. Active and C oatemplative Minds .. ... ... ... t complicated, the most wonderful, and the most inexplicable instincts ; those, for instance, of the ant and the bee — has striven to show how these singular phenomena may have arisen, by selection and heredity, out of a few very simple instincts. If we take the honey-bee as it now exists, without comparing it to any other animal ; if we assume that from the first it con- structed cells, as it does now, we are filled with astonishment, but cannot explain the fact But if we recur to the principle of gradual transitions, and seek to establish a series of transitional steps, * Nature will perhaps herself reveal to us her method of creation.' Let us, then, compare the bee with the melipona and the humble-bee. The humble-bee exhibits only very rude instincts. It deposits its honey in old cocoons, with the occasional addition of short tubes of wax. Sometimes also it constructs isolated cells of an irregular globose shape. Between the perfect cells of the honey-bee and the rude sim- plicity of those of the humble-bee stand the cells of the domesticated melipona of Mexico, as an intermediate degree. The melipona Heredity of Instincts. 29 itself is, by its structure, intermediate between the honey and the humble-bee, though more closely allied to the latter. It constructs a comb of wax, almost regular, consisting of cylindrical cells, in which the larvae are hatched, and a certain number of large cells to hold its store of honey. The latter cells are nearly spherical, and situated at a considerable distance from each other. Now, it has been calculated that if the melipona were to construct these cells at equal distances, and all of one size, if she were to arrange them symmetrically in two layers, the result would be a structure as per- fect as the hive of the honey-bee. ' Hence we may safely conclude,' says Darwin, ' that if we could slightly modify the instincts already possessed by the melipona, and in themselves not very wonderful, this bee would make a structure as wonderfully perfect as that of the hive-bee.' Since natural selection acts only by accumulating slight varia- tions of organization or of instinct, which may be advantageous to the individual, the question arises, How comes it that the succes- sive and gradual variations of the constructive instinct, rather than of any other instinct, should have by degrees formed the architec- tural talent of the honey-bee ? Darwin's answer is — ' The bee must consume a great amount of honey in order to secrete a small quantity of wax ; and during the winter it lives on its honey. "Whatever tends to make a saving of wax will also tend to save honey, and so will be of service to the future of the hive.' If, now, we suppose that the humble-bee hibernates, it will need a great quantity of honey ; consequently every modification of instinct, which would lead them to construct cells so near each other as to have a parti-wall, would save some little wax, and so be of ad- vantage to them. Hence it would continually be more and more advantageous to the humble-bees if they were to make their cells more and more regular, nearer together, and aggregated into a mass, like the cells of the melipona. ' So, too, it would be advan- tageous to the melipona if she were to make her cells closer together, thus approaching the perfect comb of the honey-bee. Thus the most wonderful of all known instincts, that of the hive- 1 bee, can be explained by natural selection having taken ' advantage of numerous successive slight modifications of simpler instincts.' l 1 Origin of Species, ch. vii. 3O Heredity. Danvin has endeavoured to explain in the same manner the slave-making instincts of certain ants. From P. Hubert famous observations, we know that female ants carry off the larvae of the black ants, which become their slaves. Incapable of any other work save that of warfare, they are fed, carried about, cared for, and even governed by the slave ants. In England, the formica sanguined, too, has slaves ; these they employ in the labours of the ants' nest, but they also work themselves. This instinct may, according to Darwin, be explained as follows. First, these ants stole some eggs from a foreign nest for food ; some of the eggs were hatched, and the stranger ants did some service to the community as workers. Hence the instinct of going and cap- turing eggs with a view to having slaves. Then the masters, leaving a part of their toil to their slaves, like English ants, came finally to renounce labour altogether, like the Swiss ants. The theory which refers instincts to hereditary habits has also been maintained in France, but only by naturalists who, like Danvin, have given special attention to physiological phenomena. The only author who, so far as we are aware, has put it forward under its psychological form is Mr. Herbert Spencer. He has endeavoured to show, not how such instincts — those of the cuckoo, the ant, and the beaver, for instance — have arisen, but to discover and describe, in a general way, the process of evolution which has deduced complex from simple instincts, by heredity and selection. Attacking the question of primal origin, which had been avoided by Danvin, Spencer has attempted to give the true and complete genesis of instincts. All we can do is to indicate the chief points of this difficult synthesis. In the first place, from the author's special point of view — that of the unity of composition of psychological phenomena — instinct represents one of the first stages in the ascending evolution of mind. In the faculties of instinct, memory, reason, etc., as they are generally accepted, Mr. H. Spencer sees only a convenient way of grouping and naming phenomena, but no real difference. These phenomena form a series, in which there are only insensible tran- sitions from class to class. In this ascending series, instinct occupies an intermediate place between reflex action and memory ; instinct may be regarded as a sort of organized memory, and memory as a sort of nascent instinct. Heredity of Instincts. 3 1 Instinct may be defined to be * composite reflex action,' It springs from simple reflex action by successive complications. While in simple reflex action a single impression is followed by a single contraction ; while in the most highly developed forms of reflex action a simple impression is followed by a combination of contractions, in those which we distinguish by the name of in- stinct a combination of impressions is followed by a combination of contractions. This is the case with the fly-catcher, which, immediately after it has left the egg, will seize an insect with its beak. The question of instinct is therefore reduced to this : How can reflex actions, which grow ever more and more complex, spring from simple reflex actions ? In order to understand how this transition may be effected by means of an accumulation of experiences, let us, says Mr. Herbert Spencer, take some aquatic animal of a low order, provided with rudimentary eyes. This nascent vision being little more than anticipatory touch, the animal will be able to note the passage of opaque bodies through the water only when they are very near its eyes. Consequently, in most cases these bodies will come in con- tact with its organism, and will so produce a tactile sensation, which will be followed by contractions — the necessary effect of a mechanical derangement of the vital force. Hence in this kind of animals there constantly occurs this succession, viz., a visual impression, and a tactile impression, or contraction. 'But it psychical states which follow one another time after time in a certain order, become every time more closely connected in this order, so as eventually to become inseparable, then it must happen that if, in the experience of any species, a visual impres- sion, a tactile impression, and a contraction are continually repeated in this succession, the several nervous states produced will become so consolidated that the first cannot be caused without the others following.' If we now assume a more perfect vision in the animal, it will follow that the same bodies will be visible at a greater distance, and that smaller bodies will be visible at a less distance. In such a case, there will be no collision, or it will be slight, and only produced by the small and nearer object Neither will there be any strong contraction, but a partial tension of the muscles, like 32 Heredity. that of an animal about to seize his prey. There will therefore be a visual impression, a tension of the muscles : the latter condition allows the animal either to seize a small object, if close to it, to retire into its shell, or to escape from an enemy by convulsive movements. Let us go further, and suppose a further development of the animal's eyes, and a habit of moving about in the water. Of all the bodies in its vicinity those in front of it commonly make the strongest impression on it These it first sees, and then often touches ; and this contact often brings near to its head and its tactile organs small bodies which may serve as food. The animal will experience the recurring succession of these psychical con- ditions : slight excitement of the retinal nerves ; excitement of the nerves of the prehensile organs ; excitement of a special set of muscles. These conditions must, by repetition in countless generations, become so closely combined that the first will of necessity call forth the others. ' Here, then, we see how one of the simpler instincts will, under the requisite conditions, be established by accumulated experiences. Let it be granted that the more frequently psychical states occur in a certain order, the stronger becomes their tendency to cohere in that order, until they at last become inseparable ; let it be granted that this tendency is, in however slight a degree, inherited, so that, if the experiences remain the same each successive gen- eration bequeaths a somewhat increased tendency ; and it follows that, in cases like the one described, there must eventually result an automatic connection of nervous actions, corresponding to the external relations perpetually experienced. Similarly, if, from some change in the environment of any species, its members are fre- quently brought in contact with a relation having terms a little more involved ; if the organization of the species is so far devel- oped as to be impressible by these terms in close succession ; then an inner relation corresponding to this new outer relation will gradually be formed, and will in the end become organic. And so on in subsequent stages of progress.' l It is, moreover, clear, as the author remarks, that we are not to * Herbert Spencer, Principles of Psychology, § 194 — 198, Second Edition. Heredity of Instincts. 33 see in what has just been said anything more than a probable outline of the development of instincts. It will always be impos- sible to explain instincts as they are, in their endless varieties and complications. The data are inaccessible, and even were they accessible, it would be impossible to grasp them in their entirety. We need not here pass judgment on this theory of the origin of instinct : the matter is beside our purpose, as well as beyond our powers. Evidently, this question is connected with the origin of species ; and science has not yet solved it, if it ever will be solved. Should Danvin's doctrine be confirmed, it must then be admitted that all instincts have been acquired, and that what is now fixed was at first variable ; that all stability comes from heredity, which conserves and accumulates, and that in the formation of instincts heredity is supreme. However alluring the hypothesis of evolution may appear by its simplicity and breadth, it is not without difficulties in the region of facts. It explains many of these, but there are others at which it stumbles. We need only consider the objection drawn from the existence of neuter insects, which, though possessed of a structure of their own, and of peculiar instincts, still, being sterile, cannot propagate their kind. The formation of the wonderful instinct of working ants cannot, on this hypothesis, be explained, for among neuters this instinct cannot have been developed by selection and heredity. Danvin strives to explain this very ingeniously, while he admits that at first the facts appeared to be full of so great difficulty as even to overturn his theory. In the present state of science, it is not possible to say whether an instinct is the result of hereditary habit, or a primitive, natural, and irreducible fact There is no mark whereby we might make a distinction. Restricting ourselves within the bounds of the question which immediately concerns us, we would remark that the conventional saying, that ' instinct is hereditary habit ' is so vague and incom- plete as to be inaccurate. Habit is a disposition acquired through the continuance of the same acts ; it therefore necessarily pre- supposes a primitive act or state, whereof it is a repetition. I possess the habit of painting, writing, calculating, only because at first I painted, wrote or calculated painfully and slowly, and by a special effort of my will. If instinct is a habit, it is a habit of some- 34 Heredity. thing. It presupposes a primitive state anterior to the habitual state, and this evidently is one of the lowliest modes of mental activity ; it is that minimum of intelligence of which we have spoken already — including in intelligence sensibility and volition, which are confused together and involved in instinct Thus, then, we are again brought back to our conclusion in regard to the nature of instincts. Here is need of caution ; if intelligence does not exist in germ, even in the lowliest psychological act, then all the trans- formations and evolutions in the world will never put it there ; or we shall be the dupes of continual illusion and endless trickery, which will make us suppose that we may produce from a thing what was never placed in it If we admit at the outset ever so small an amount of intelligence, we may well understand how the amount may afterwards have become greater. The seed may easily enough become a tree, but without the seed there will be no tree. Hence it is strictly necessary to qualify the hereditary habit from which instincts spring by calling it a mental habit In a word, according to the hypothesis which regards instincts as either fixed, or as varying only within narrow limits, heredity is simply conservative. In the hypothesis of evolution, heredity is really creative; for since, without it, it is impossible for any acquired modification to be transmitted, the formation of instincts, properly so called, how- ever slightly complex, would be impossible. Both hypotheses accord equally well with our solution of the nature of instinct It matters not whether it be the minimum of intelligence developed by gradual evolution, or an inferior form of intelligence, invariable and for ever fixed and determined by the organs. And, from our point of view, it might be said that, since the heredity of instincts is established, the heredity of intelligence is established partially and in advance. But this we will consider more closely in another place. Heredity of the Sensorial Qualities. 35 CHAPTER II. HEREDITY OF THE SENSORIAL QUALITIES. PERCEPTION is a fact of mixed nature, at once physiological and mental ; it is begun in the organs, is perfected in the consciousness. The soundness of the common opinion which regards our sensa- tions as simple, irreducible, ultimate phenomena, by means of which we know the material world as it is, is extremely doubtful. Setting aside the discussion of this broad question, it is only necessary to say that, taking for their basis physical and physiological dis- coveries, recent works on psychology — notably those of Bain and Herbert Spencer in England, of Helmholtz and Wundt in Ger- many, and of Taine in France — have shown that sensations supposed to be simple must be dealt with, as chemistry, at its rise, dealt with bodies, also supposed to be simple. These psycho- logists v have shown that neither colours, nor sounds, nor heat, probably, indeed, none of the qualities of the external world, at all resemble the ideas vulgarly entertained with regard to them ; that perception is a state of consciousness that corresponds in us to realities external to ourselves, but which does not resemble them : so that this totality of attributes which we call the external world, and which, by a universal illusion, we think we see as it is in reality, is to a great extent the product of our own mind — a creation of which the external world furnishes only the raw material, which our senses then, after their own fashion, work up and complete. Though we cannot have the slightest hesitation in choosing between these recent theories and the current opinion in regard to the perception of external objects, between that of the Scotch school and of the sensus communis — whose least defect is that it explains nothing ; yet, so far as the subject of heredity is concerned, the question has no interest Whether the material world is per- ceived immediately as it is, or otherwise than as it is, by a synthesis of consciousness, matters not at all. The only problem we have to solve is whether the perceptive faculties, the modes of sensorial activity, are subject to heredity. We will observe, in the first place, that, as regards specific quali- ties, the reply admits of no doubt If we examine the animal 36 Heredity. scale, from the lowest organisms, possessed of no other sense than that of an obtuse, passive touch, up to those most highly sensitive, we see at once that each animal derives a certain number, and a certain kind of senses from its parents. Heredity governs both the quantity and quality of the perceptive faculties, so far as these general characters are concerned which we call specific. Heredity also governs all that concerns race or variety. Thus, the dog inherits not only a very acute scent, but also the variety of scent which adapts him for hunting a definite kind of game. In the negro the acuteness of this same sense characterizes that variety of the human species. Doubt, therefore, can arise only with regard to individual differences, and thus our original question is transformed into this: Is the transmission of secondary and individual characters governed by the same heredity which governs the transmission of the percep- tive faculties, in their essential and fundamental features? The answer can only be given by facts ; we shall see that heredity is usually the rule, even with what is individual, anomalous, and capricious. We take, then, in order, the five senses as usually accepted. There is now a general agreement to recognize, under the name of vital sense, organic sense, or internal sense, a mode of sensa- tion, without a special organ, diffused over the entire body, and which is, as it were, an internal Touch, whereby we are sensible of what takes place within us. But as this sense is entirely personal, making us acquainted with our own body, and not with the external world, and as it very nearly concerns our pleasures, our pains, our instincts, our passions, we will treat of it in another place, when discussing the modes by which our feelings act, and the heredity of these modes. I. — OF TOUCH. Touch is the universal, primary sense, possessed by every sentient animal. All the other senses are but a modification of touch, said one of the ancients. Mr. Herbert Spencer has shown how, by evolution and specialization, the other senses — sight, hear- ing, smell, taste — could have sprung from touch ; and how touch Heredity of the Sensor ial Qualities. 37 is a universal language into which the other senses, which are special languages, would at first have to be translated in order to be understood. In this fundamental sense, which is at once the most essential and the most material, we distinguish tactile sensa- tions, properly so-called (hardness, softness, elasticity, etc.), and sensations of temperature (heat and cold). Both are governed by heredity. The extreme difference of tactile sensibility between northern and southern races has often been remarked. Among the latter it is exquisite and refined ; among the former, obtuse, or, at least, imperfect. The Lapp, who takes tobacco oil for colic, has a skin as little irritable as his stomach. In Lapland, as Montesquieu puts it, ' you must flay a man to make him feel.' It has been observed, says P. Lucas, that parents transmit to their children the most singular perfections and imperfections of touch. There are, probably, in the skin no modes of hyper-sesthesia or of anaesthesia that could form an exception to this rule. A woman whose tactile sensibility was so exalted that for her the slightest hurt was an agony, married a man endowed in the highest degree with the opposite quality. He did not lack intelligence, but his heart and his skin were impassible. A daughter was born to them, and she is as insensible to external pain as her father himself. We have seen her endure without complaint, and even without appearing to notice it, pain which would have been very acute for ourselves. A family from the South, says the same author, who was acquainted with the persons, came to Paris some time ago. Several of the children were born in Paris; but those born there, as well as those brought there from the South, were in childhood extremely sensitive to cold. One of the daughters married a man from the North, who is insensible to cold, pro- vided it is not excessive. The child born of this union is more sensitive to cold than even its mother ; like her, he shivers at the slightest fall of temperature, and so soon as the air becomes cold, he is afraid of leaving the house. One of the most familiar forms of hyper-aesthesia of the touch is the sensibility to tickling. There are whole families that are insensible to this, while others are so sensible to it that the slightest touch will produce syncope. 38 Heredity. Some persons cannot bear the contact or even the near presence of certain objects, such as silk or cork. This morbid sensibility is often transmitted by one or other of the parents. ' We are acquainted with a family, several members of which, both boys and girls, experience instinctively, on touching cork, or the downy skin of a peach, such an internal sensation of shuddering repulsion that the very sight of the fruit is unendurable to them ; which, therefore, must be given them with the skin removed.' l Here we may refer, in passing, to certain hereditary anomalies, such as polydactylism, and the warty membrane of Edward Lambert (of which we have already spoken), both of which cases belong rather to the physiological side of the question. The hand, which is pre-eminently the organ of touch, is modified by heredity. ' That large hands are inherited by men and women whose ancestors led laborious lives ; and that men and women whose descent, for many generations, has been from those unused to manual labour commonly have small hands, are established opinions.' 2 The same is true of left-handed persons. There are families in which the special use of the left hand is hereditary. Girou mentions a family in which the father, the children, and most of the grandchildren were left-handed. One of the latter betrayed its left-handedness from earliest infancy, nor could it be broken of the habit, though the left hand was bound and swathed. II. — OF SIGHT. Sight is the noblest, the most intellectual, of all tne senses, and the most important for science and aesthetics. It is a known fact that accidental blindness may lead to insanity. Congenital blind- ness certainly influences the mind : the imagination of one born blind, which possesses only tactile sensations, cannot be anything like ours, in which visual sensations predominate. Hence, from a purely psychological point of view, the heredity of the sensorial modes of vision is worth studying. The individual varieties of this sense may be classed under three heads, accordingly as they depend on mechanical causes, or 1 Lucas, L 481. * Spencer, Biology, voL L § 82. Heredity of the Sensor ial Qualities. 39 on anaesthesia or hyper-sesthesia of the nervous element All anomalies are transmissible by heredity. i. The peculiarities of vision which depend on mechanical causes are strabismus, myopia, and presbyopia The transmission of these is very common. In general, it is to hereditary causes that we are indebted for the conformation of our visual apparatus, and, consequently, for our being far or near-sighted. Portal, in his Considerations sur les Maladies de Famille^ de- scribes an imperfect form of strabismus, called the Montmorency sight, with which nearly all the members of that family were affected. Danvin observed that the Fuegians, when on board his ship, could see distant objects far more distinctly than the English j sailors, notwithstanding their long practice.1 This is clearly an acquired faculty, accumulated and fixed by heredity. One of the most striking cases of heredity of vision is the ever increasing number of the myopic among persons given to in- tellectual work. According to M. Giraud Teulon, continual application with the eyes near the object is the great cause of myopia.* Professor Bonders, of Utrecht, while studying the statistical reports, was surprised to find that myopia is a disease of the wealthy classes, and that the inhabitants of cities are specially liable to it, while those of the country are almost exempt. In France the Conseils de Revision have noticed the same fact In England, at the Chelsea Military School, among 1,300 boys only three were myopic. In the Universities of Oxford and Cambridge, however, the number of myopic subjects was considerable — at Oxford 32 in 127. In Germany the results are even more decisive. Dr. Colin, of Breslau, undertook the task of examining, in the schools of his own country, the eyes of 10,000 scholars or students. Among these he found 1,004 myopic — about ten per cent In village schools they are not numerous — only a quarter per cent. In the town schools the number of the myopic increases with the grade — primary schools it is 67; middle schools, 10-3; normal schools, 197 ; gymnasia and universities 26^2 per cent 1 Variation, etc., ii. p. 223. * Rev ue (fes Cour; Scientifiques. 3 Sept. 1870. 3 40 Heredity. This explains why, in Germany, myopia is not a reason for rejection by the examining boards. Since constant study creates myopia, and heredity most frequently perpetuates it, the number of short-sighted persons must necessarily increase in a nation devoted to intellectual pursuits. 2. Anaesthesia of the nerves of sight is transmissible in all its grades and in all its forms. It is a well-known fact that the sensibility of the eye to light is very different in different persons. It may vary as much as 200 per cent, and, of course, will pass through all the intermediate degrees. Heredity transmits these inequalities, from partial to total anaesthesia, or blindness, when the eye, incapable of noting form or colour, has only an indistinct perception of light. Congenital blindness may run in families. Blind persons will sometimes beget blind children. A blind beggar was the father of four sons and a daughter, all blind.1 Dufau, in his work on Blindness, cites the cases of 2 1 persons blind from birth, or soon after, whose ancestors — father, mother, grandparents, and uncles — had some serious affection of the eyes. Amaurosis, nyctalopia, and cataract in the parents may become blindness in the children ; and such transformations of heredity are not rare in animals. The incapacity to distinguish colours, known under the name of Daltonism, or colour-blindness is notoriously hereditary. The distinguished English chemist Dalton was so affected, as were also two of his brothers. Sedgwick discovered that colour-blind- ness occurs oftener in men than in women. In eight families akin to each other, this affection lasted through five generations, and extended to 7 1 persons.2 It is readily understood that such an anomaly of vision is not without influence on the mind, at least from the aesthetic point of view. An old man, who had from childhood observed that he could not call the various colours by their names, was grieved because he saw nothing in paintings but what was gray and sombre — in a landscape only an obscure haze, in the sunrise and 1 Lucas, i. 404. 8 Darwin, Variation, etc., ii. p. 70. Heredity of the Sensorial Qualities 41 sunset, in the brightest tints of the rainbow, and in the grandest scenes of nature, only a cold and dull sameness. 3. There are some persons who seem gifted with extraordinary --. • — almost supernatural — powers of sight. Some cases of this kind are so well attested as scarcely to admit of doubt. Thus, sight at great distances and through opaque substances appears, in some cases, to be proved beyond the possibility of fraud. If there is any explanation of this and other like phenomena, it can only be on the supposition of hyper-aesthesia of the optic nerve. P. Lucas gives a long account of Hirsch Daenemarck, a Polish ~ Jew, who, about the year 1840, travelled over Europe, showing by decisive experiments that he could read in a closed book any / page or line that might be desired.1 This man's son perceived, at I about the same age as his father (ten years), that he possessed this same faculty, and perhaps in a more remarkable degree. It is hardly necessary to observe that heredity always governs vision in its specific form, and that the only room for doubt would be with regard to individual varieties. Thus, all species of animals, from the eagle to the owl — from the earth-worm with its eye-points, to the spider with its facet-eyes — possess a visual apparatus of a structure and optical power peculiar to them, which is preserved and transmitted by heredity like all other specific characters III. — OF HEARING Though hearing does not possess the same scientific and aesthetic importance as sight, yet it is one of our principal senses. It is the basis of a science — acoustics — and of an art — music ; and, what is still more important, ori it depends the possibility of articulate language or speech, and, consequently, of deliberate thought. If there be no hearing, there is an end of speech ; / suppress speech, and thought also is suppressed, with all results. Hearing, like sight, can have its hyper-aesthesia, its partial and total anaesthesia — deafness. As we have seen, there are eyes that cannot distinguish certain colours ; in like manner there are ears that cannot hear certain sounds. Wollaston met with persons 1 Lucas, i. pp. 413—419. 42 Heredity. who were insensible to all sounds above and below the diatonic scale. To be congenitally deaf and dumb exerts a well-known and unfortunate influence on the development of the intellect, for which the only remedy is found in the use of artificial signs. If this infirmity is transmissible, heredity may be said to penetrate into the very essence of intellect But this form of heredity has been disputed. Dr. Meniere, in a special work on this question, while admitting that in a certain number of instances the direct and immediate heredity of deaf-muteness has been established, says : — ' Never- theless, these facts must be held to constitute a rare exception ; habitually deaf-mutes married to deaf-mutes beget children who hear and speak. This is, of course, still more the case where the marriage is a mixed one, that is, where only one of the couple is deaf and dumb — though even in this case there are well-attested cases of heredity.' l Darwin also says : — ' When a male or a female deaf-mute marries a sound person, their children are most rarely affected ; in Ireland, out of 203 children thus produced only one was mute. Even when both parents have been deaf- mutes, as in the case of forty-one marriages in the United States, and of six in Ireland, only two deaf and dumb children were produced.' a We would remark that the returns of the Deaf and Dumb Institution of London, from its foundation to the present time, are conclusive in favour of heredity. Among 148 pupils in that institution at one time, there was one in whose family were five deaf-mutes ; another in whose family were four. In the families of ii of the pupils there were three each, and in the families of 19, two each. It is quite possible that, in the case under consideration, the law of heredity is not so much at fault as is commonly supposed. The deaf-muteness of ascendants may, in their descendants, be transformed into an infirmity of some other description, such as hardness of hearing, obtuseness of the mental faculties, 01 1 Recherches surfOrigine de la Surdi-Mutiti, par le Docteur Meniere. * Variation, etc., ii. p. 22. Heredity of the Sensorial Qualities. 43 even idiocy. Of this the distinguished anatomist Menckel gives many instances. But we will consider hereafter this obscure point of the metamorphoses or transformations of heredity. It has seemed to us more natural to discuss the heredity of the musical faculty under the head of imagination. As will be seen, there is perhaps no other artistic talent that presents more con- clusive instances of hereditary transmission (the three Mozarts, the two Beethovens, the more than 120 members of the Bach family). Still, however important the part we assign to the influence of the imagination and of the intellectual faculties, it must be admitted that there can be no musical talent without a certain disposition of the organs of hearing. Here education does next to nothing, for it is nature that gives 'a good ear.' Hence the incontestable heredity of the aptness for music necessarily implies the heredity of certain qualities of hearing. This conclusion applies to performers as well as to composers. IV. — OF SMELL AND TASTE. It is hardly possible to separate here these two senses, which are so closely allied that smell may be called taste acting at a distance. Man, no doubt, ranks below other animals as regards fineness of the sense of smell. Nowhere among the human family, even among the negroes, can be found a sense of smell as acute as that of dogs, of carnivorous animals in general, and of certain insects. Gratiolet, in his Anatomic Comparee du Systime Nerveux, states that an old piece of wolf-skin, with the hair all worn away, when ; set before a little dog, threw the animal into convulsions of fear by ' the slight scent attaching to it. The dog had never seen a wolf; and we can only explain this alarm by the hereditary transmission of certain sentiments, coupled with a certain perception of the sense of smell. It is notorious that, to a great extent, the value of the canine race depends on their native, and therefore hereditary, subtlety of scent If in animals so highly endowed in this respect we could note individual differences, we should probably see them trans- 44 Heredity. mitted by heredity. But, unfortunately, we can study them only under the specific form. There, however, there is no room for doubt, for heredity transmits them all without exception. In the human species, savage races have a characteristic acuteness of smell which allies them to animals. In North America the Indians can follow their enemies or their game by the scent, and in the Antilles the maroon negroes distinguish by the scent a white man's trail from a negro's.1 The whole negro race has this sense developed to an extraordinary degree. Whether this results from a great development of the olfactive membrane, or from the more frequent exercise of this sense, in any case, this innate or acquired faculty is preserved by heredity. The specific and individual varieties of taste are transmissible, like those of smell. Hybridism gives curious examples of this among animals. ' The swine,' says Burdach, ' has a very strong liking for barley; the wild boar will not touch it, feeding on herbage and leaves. From a cross between a domestic sow and a wild boar come young some of which have an aversion for barley, like the wild boar, while the others have a taste for it, like the common hog.' In man, anaesthesia of taste, and antipathy for certain flavours, are hereditary. Schook, the author of a treatise entitled De Aversions Casei belonged to a family to nearly all the members of which the smell of cheese was unendurable, and some of whom were thrown into convulsions by it2 Such antipathy is very often hereditary. ' In a family of our acquaintance, the father and mother like cheese ; the grandmother had an extreme dislike for it. Four of the children share in the same dislike.'3 An exclusive liking for vegetable food and repugnance to flesh is of very rare occurrence, but it is transmissible. ' A soldier of the Engineers, who derived from his father an invincible repug- nance to all food composed of animal substances, was unable, during the 18 months he spent with his regiment, to overcome this aversion, and was obliged to quit the service.'4 Finally, P. Lucas, following Zimmermann and Gall, gives the 1 Dictionnaire dcs Sciences Mcdicales. Art ' OdoraL ' • Ibid. •Lucas, L 389. * Gazette des Tribunaux, 21 Mai, Heredity of the Sensor ial Qualities. 45 following surprising case. A Scotchman had an irresistible longing for human flesh, which led him to commit several murders. He had a daughter, who, though taken from her parents, who were burned at the stake, before she was a year old, and though she was brought up among respectable people, still succumbed, like her father, to the inconceivable desire for eating human flesh.1 There exists in some families a sort of natural hydrophobia. ' Three members of a family with which we are acquainted — the grandmother, the mother, and a daughter — eat their food without taking any liquid ; they do not drink at all, we might say. Their '. repugnance to liquids is so great that they refuse to drink until \ they fall into a feverish state.' 8 We have collected sufficient facts enough to show that there is such a thing as heredity of the perceptive faculties, even under the individual form. Thus, if we take an animal, as it is naturally con- stituted, with its sensorial organs, through which it comes in contact with the outer world, we may say that the quantity and quality of its perceptive faculties will be certainly transmitted in their specific form, and very probably too in their individual form j therefore, heredity is the rule. Sensation, however, presents only the raw material of cognition, which the mind's own activity has to transform and elaborate. To the external element supplied by the material world must be added the internal element supplied by ourselves, in order to produce what is properly called cognition, and the development of the mind. Hence it might be said that the heredity of the perceptive faculties, as here considered, is in some manner external, and that our having established It is a physiological rather than a psycho- logical result. In our opinion, however, this is not the case, nor would that objection be made if it were borne in mind that per- 1 We state this case with great reserve, because its authenticity does not appear to be beyond question. It is not, however, more improbable than other cases of heredity. It is notorious that the inclination to cannibalism is extremely lasting. A New Zealander of great intelligence, half-civilized by a protracted sojourn in England, while admitting that it was wrong to eat a fellow-man, still longed for the time to come when be could have that pleasure. Lucas, i. p. 391. 1 Lucas, ibid. 388. 46 Heredity. ception is an act essentially active, into which the whole mind enters. But we need not dwell upon a point which would require a lengthy explanation, carrying us beyond the limits of our subject. We shall presently see whether the heredity of the intellectual faculties, in their highest forms, can be directly established. CHAPTER III. HEREDITY OF THE MEMORY. IF, in treating of Memory, we confine ourselves to a description of the phenomena, and the investigation of their organic conditions, our task is simple. Nothing is easier than to attribute recollection to a special faculty which knows the past as consciousness knows the present Unfortunately, however, this supposed faculty adds nothing to our knowledge, and with it Ave are in possession of only what the phenomena gave us, with just a word over. On the other hand, when we go beyond mere description and verbal explana- tions, the problem of memory, simple as it appears, becomes very difficult Yet since, in order to understand the relation between heredity and memory, it is necessary to have some precise notions about this subject, the problem must be attempted. The phenomena of memory, considered in their ultima ratio, are explained by the law of the indestructibility of force, of the conser- vation of energy, which is one of the most important laws of the universe. Nothing is lost ; nothing that exists can ever cease to be. In physics, this is admitted readily enough ; the principle is well-established, and confirmed by so many facts, that doubt is impossible. In morals, the case is different : we are commonly so accustomed to regard all occurrences as the results of chance, and as subject to no laws, that many at least implicitly admit the annihila- tion of that which once was a state of consciousness to be possible. I Yet annihilation is as inadmissible in the moral as it is in the physical world ; and but little reflection is needed to see that in all orders of phenomena it is alike impossible for something to become nothing, or for nothing to become something. Such a Heredity of the Memory. 47 miracle is neither conceived by reason nor justified by experience. We may, indeed, state such a proposition verbally ; but so soon as we pass from words to things, from vagueness to precision, from the imaginary to the real, we cannot form an idea of any such annihilation in external or internal experience. Nor are the considerations in favour of the indestructibility of our perceptions and ideas merely of a theoretical nature ; there axe also facts which, however strange they may appear at first, are very simple, if we bear in mind that in the mental world, as elsewhere, nothing perishes. Works on medicine and psychology cite numerous instances where languages apparently altogether forgotten, or memories apparently effaced, are suddenly brought back to consciousness by a nervous disorder, by fever, opium, hasheesh, or simply by intoxication. Coleridge tells a story of a I servant-maid, who, in a fever, spoke Greek, Hebrew, and Latin ; \ Erasmus mentions an Italian who spoke German, though he had forgotten that language for twenty years ; there is also a case recorded of a butcher's boy who, when insane, recited passages from the Phedre which he had heard only once. All these facts are so well known that they need only here be cited ; they, with many others, prove that in the depths of the soul there exists many a memory which seemed to have vanished for ever. The physiological study of perception further shows that the pro- duction of the phenomena of consciousness is subject to the law of the transformation of force. Though this point is yet beset with difficulties, the works of Mateucci and of Dubois-Reymond show that electric currents are produced in the nerves, and are there in continual circulation. When sensation takes place, and in general whenever a nerve is active, there is produced a diminution of its special current, as is indicated by the needle of a galvano- meter connected with the nerve. This diminution takes place because a molecular change is produced within the nerve, which, on reaching the muscles, produces a contraction, and on reaching the brain produces a sensation ; — in other words, sensation is work, and to perform work a certain force has to be expended and trans- formed. The electrical forces which serve to produce the sensation could not, at the same time, either give motion to a magnetic needle or produce chemical decomposition, because, while per 48 Heredity. forming work within they cannot, at the same time, perform work without; and 'as the nerve cannot produce electricity without using up something, the ultimate source of the forces which the nerve transforms into electricity is the materials furnished by the blood. The nerve is nourished with these materials, as the pile is fed with zinc and acid.' l Thus perception — that is to say, the primary phenomena of consciousness — comes under the general law. It is impossible that it should come of nothing. We daily experience thousands of perceptions, but none of these, however vague and insignificant, can perish utterly. After thirty years some effort — some chance occurrence, some malady — may bring them back ; it may even be without recognition. Every experience we have had lies dormant within us : the human soul is like a deep and sombre lake, of which light reveals only the surface ; beneath, there lives a whole world of animals and plants, which a storm or an earthquake may suddenly bring to light before the astonished consciousness. Both theory and fact, then, agree in showing that in the moral, no less than in the physical world, nothing is lost An impression made on the nervous system occasions a permanent change in the cerebral structure, and produces a like effect in the mind — whatever * may be understood by that term. A nervous impression is no momentary phenomenon that appears and disappears, but rather a fact which leaves behind it a lasting result — something added to previous experience and attaching to it ever afterwards. Not, how- ever, that the perception exists continually in the consciousness ; but it does continue to exist in the mind, in such a manner that it may be recalled to the consciousness. It is not easy to say what it is that survives our perceptions and ideas. The least objectionable name for it is residuum, a term which does not imply any theory, because it only indicates an unquestionable fact of our mental life. It is not to be supposed that these residua are always present to the mind, so that the attention can at any moment be voluntarily directed to them. But it may be assumed that every mental act leaves in our physical and mental structure a tendency to reproduce itself, and that when- 1 Wundt, Menschen- und Thiersede, 5th and 6th Lectures, Heredity of the Memory. 49 ever this reproduction occurs the tendency is thereby strengthened ; so that a tendency often reproduced becomes almost automatic. We might go somewhat further, and say that the relation subsisting between the actual perception and the residuum is the relation between the conscious and the unconscious. In the perception or the idea the consciousness perishes j or, more accurately, there takes place a transformation, of which we can have no precise idea, but which must be very analogous to the transformations of the physical world (heat into motion, motion in light, etc.). Between these two worlds of consciousness and unconsciousness, there must exist such a correlation that to each mode of the one a mode of the other corresponds. Mental life is a constant transformation, the unconscious becoming conscious, and vice versa; but this transformation does not take place by chance : though the laws are unknown, it is not without laws. If we could say which form of the unconscious corresponds to each form of consciousness, we could say what relation subsists between a perception or an idea and its residuum. This we cannot do. Herbart, and after him Miiller, the physiologist, supposed they made some advance in the explana- tion of the phenomena by comparing ideas to forces which have their statics and dynamics. But, in the first place, it may be remarked that consciousness is one, and that therefore it can at each instant hold only one idea. Its form is that of a simple series; and though certain states of consciousness seem to be simultaneous, they are, in fact, successive. It we try to think simultaneously cf a lion and a mountain, a cube and a sphere, it will be seen that one idea excludes the other, and that we can think of them only successively or alternately. From this it follows : — That an idea which occupies the consciousness can be displaced only by a stronger idea. If the two mental forces which contend for the occupation of the consciousness are alike, and act in one direction, the result is a very intense state of consciousness. If the two forces are equal and contrary, they will be in equilibrium. If they are unequal and contrary, the one will over-master the other, but in doing so loses a part of its own force equivalent to that \vhich it displaces. This is proved by the fact that an 50 Heredity. idea is perceived all the more vividly in proportion as the mind is less occupied at the same moment with anything else. When a person is deeply occupied, a new idea makes little im- pression on his mind, because before it can lay hold of the con- sciousness it has expended all its force. On the other hand, it is well known that persons who are altogether idle interest them- selves much about trifling details, and that an empty mind breeds hypochondria. An idea that has passed away from the consciousness is not destroyed, but only transformed. Instead of being a present idea, it becomes a residuum, representing a certain tendency of the mind exactly proportioned to the energy of the original idea. The existence of ideas in the unconscious state might, therefore, be regarded as a state of perfect equilibrium. ' Forgetfulness means that the idea of a thing is in equilibrium with other ideas, and recollection that this idea quits the state of equilibrium, and enters the state of motion. No idea is lost ; and every operation of the mind in virtue of which a latent idea passes to the active state is a state of recollection.' l Amid all these hypotheses, which the future, perhaps, will show to be truths, this remains certain and unquestionable, — that the phenomena of recollection are to be referred to the grand law of the conservation of force, of which it is only a particular case. If, \ now, we pass from this very general law to one that is less general — from a formula embracing all changes which occur in the universe to a formula restricted to the domain of life — we shall see memory under another aspect This biological law is habit. In the first place, habit, considered in its essence, is referable to the law of the conservation of force, for its cause is the primordial law or form of being — that is, the tendency of beings to persevere in the act which constitutes them. As has been already seen, every act leaves in our physical and mental constitution a tendency to reproduce itself, and when- ever this reproduction occurs the tendency is strengthened ; and thus a tendency, often repeated, becomes automatic. This automatism is the link between memory and habit, and gave rise 1 Miiller, Psychologie, ii. p. 517. Heredity of the Memory. 5 1 to the saying that memory is only a form of habit — a proposition which, with some restrictions, is true. On the one hand, it is certain that the association of ideas (a current expression, but inexact, for association occurs also between perceptions, sentiments, motions, etc.) is the indispensable condi- tion of memory. On the other hand, habit consists of automatic associations : an act does not become a habit until the various terms of the series which compose it are perfectly fused and integrated, so that one necessitates the others (as drilling, dancing, playing the piano). Not to inquire here whether associa- tion is to be referred to habit, or habit to association, it is clear that he who does not see the fundamental identity of these two modes of activity, and consequently of habit and memory, must be totally without the faculty of generalization. But to confound them absolutely appears to us incorrect, for the following reasons. Habit is altogether unconscious and automatic ; memory is so only in part. We do not attribute to memory those psychic states which are so well organized, and so incorporated in us,^as to constitute a part of ourselves. We do not say we remember that an effect has a cause, that a body possesses extension, that a self-moving body is an animal. It would, therefore, be more exact to say that memory is an incipient habit If we trace the evolution of mind — going from instinct, which is automatic, to reason, which is so no longer — we may say that memory is the transition from perfect to imperfect automatism. If we trace it in the reverse direction, then memory indicates the moment when what was free and conscious tends to become unconscious. ' Memory, then, appertains to that class of psychical states which are in process of being organized. It continues so long as the organizing of them continues, and disappears when the organization of them is complete. In the advance of the correspondence, each more complex cluster of attributes and relations which a creature acquires the power of recognizing is responded to, at first irregularly and uncertainly; and there is then a weak remembrance. By multiplication of experiences this remembrance is made stronger — the internal cohesions are better adjusted to the external persistences ; and the response is rendered more appropriate. By further multiplication of experiences, the 5 2 Heredity. internal relations are at last structurally registered in harmony with the external ones ; and so conscious memory passes into unconscious or organic memory.' * n. The foregoing remarks are all within our subject, though they may not seem so ; for, having now referred memory to habit, we will endeavour, in the conclusion of the work, to refer heredity also to habit, and to show that both are but one form of the universal mechanism — of that inflexible necessity which rules the world of life and even of thought, and of which memory itself is but one aspect Without forestalling this conclusion, of which the value can only be appreciated when we have first studied the facts, the laws, and the causes, heredity may at least be compared with memory. Heredity, indeed, is a specific memory : it is to the species what memory is to the individual. Facts will hereafter show that this is no metaphor, but a positive truth. If these con- siderations seem too theoretical, it must be at least admitted that, memory being as closely and perhaps even more closely connected with the organism than any other faculty, the heredity of memory is implied in physiological heredity. Some recent authors, among them Dr. Maudsley, attribute a memory to every nerve-cell, to every organic element of the body. ' The permanent effects of a particular virus, such as that of variola or of syphilis, in the constitution, show that the organic element remembers, for the remainder of its life, certain modifications it has received. The manner in which a cicatrix in a child's finger grows with the growth of the body proves, as has been shown by Paget, that the organic element of the part does not forget the impression it has received. What has been said about the different nervous centres of the body demonstrates the existence of a memory in the nerve- cells diffused through the heart and the intestines ; in those of the spinal cord ; in the cells of the motor ganglia, and in the cells of the cortical substance of the cerebral hemispheres.' ' Still, when we search history or medical treatises for facts to 1 Herbert Spencer, Principles of Psychology, 2nd Edition, § 202. 8 Maudsley, Physiology of Mind, ch. ix. Heredity of the Memory. 53 establish the heredity of the memory in its individual form, we meet with little success. While such facts are numerous in refer- ence to the imagination, the intellect, the passions, we find very few in favour of heredity of memory. There is a mental disorder, however — idiocy — which presents some instances. This infirmity — an hereditary one, as we shall see, at least in the shape of atavism — presents, among other characteristics, an excessive weakness of memory. Idiots generally recollect only what concerns their tastes, their propensities, their passions. But, as this is doubtless the result of the feebleness of their sensorial impressions, this heredity is the effect of a more general hereditary transmission. Aphasia, which is nearly always connected with paralysis of the right side, is produced by lesion of the anterior lobes of the brain (the third frontal convolution of the left side, according to Broca). Its psychological cause appears to be amnesia, or a loss of memory, an inability to find words in general, or some particular words. Although this disease has been studied with much care, no cases of heredity are cited. History shows the same scarcity of instances. The almost fabulous powers of memory that are recorded (Mithradates, Hadrian, Clement VL, Pico de la Mirandola, Scaliger, Mezzofanti, etc) seem isolated cases ; at least, we cannot trace them up or down in the genealogical line. Yet some facts may be noted. The two Senecas were famed for their memory : the father, Marcus Annaeus, could repeat 2000 words in the o.rder in which he heard them ; the son, Lucius Annaeus, was also, though less highly, gifted in this respect. According to Gallon, in the family of Richard Person, one of the Englishmen most distinguished as a Greek scholar, this faculty was so extraordinary as to become proverbial — the Porson memory. The case may also be noticed of Lady Hester Stanhope, the daughter of one of the most illustrious English families, who, under the name of ' the Sibyl of the Libanus,' led so strange and adventurous a life. Among many points of re- semblance between herself and her grandfather she herself cites memory. ' I possess my grandfather's eyes, and his memory of places. If he saw a stone on the road he remembered it — it is the same with me ; his eye, which usually was dull and lustreless, 54 Heredity. lighted up, like mine, with a wild gleam under the influence of passion.' It may be remarked that certain determinate forms of memory are hereditary in artist-families. It will be seen that the talents for painting and for music are very often transmitted. Now and then they persist through four or five consecutive generations ; and it is evident that no one can be a good painter without possessing a memory for forms and colours, or be a good musical composer without memory of sounds. To sum up, it must be admitted that there are not many facts to show the heredity of memory ; but the conclusion is not thereby justified that this form of heredity is rarer than others. The opposite opinion is still tenable, and the lack of evidences can be explained. Memory, with all its undoubted usefulness, plays in human life, and consequently in history, only a secondary and obscure part. It produces no works, like the intellect and the imagination ; nor does it perform any brilliant actions, like the will. It does not give material evidence of itself, like a defect of the senses. It does not come under the ken of the law, like the passions ; nor does it enter the domain of medicine, like mental disease. Since, then, it is so little tangible, the lack of evidences need not surprise us ; and there is still reason to hope that, in proportion as the subject of mental heredity, hitherto much overlooked, is better studied, atten- tion will be directed to this matter, and will abundantly show that here, as elsewhere, heredity is the rule. CHAPTER IV. HEREDITY OF THE IMAGINATION. ALL psychologists distinguish two kinds of imagination : one reproductive, the other creative. Both of these are alike subject to the law of heredity ; perhaps, indeed, apart from instinct and perception, there is no faculty of which the transmission is so common. This is not surprising, if we remember the close relation Heredity of the Imagination. 55 between perception and imagination ; that the latter, in its passive form, depends entirely on the nervous system and the organs, and in its active form is closely connected with them ; and that, conse- quently, psychological heredity implies mental heredity. Passive imagination is the property by which our sensorial im- pressions tend to reproduce themselves, though in less vivid shape, in the absence of their object. In its highest degree it becomes hallucination, which makes our internal states objective, and presents them to us as external realities; and this gives ground for believing that passive imagination is, in its mechanism, a reversed perception — perception proceeding from without inwards, imagination from within outwards. The part played by imagin- ation in insanity, sleep, drunkenness, hallucination, ecstasy, and various states called miraculous, has been profoundly studied in our time, in wo'rks on mental diseases. In these works are many important facts in the study of heredity. We propose to discuss these hereafter, and bring under one head all the phenomena of morbid heredity. At present we deal only with active imagination — the imagin- ation of the poet, the artist, and even of the man of science ; the imagination which creates and interprets an ideal conception by means of sensible forms. It is a complex faculty, presupposing, at least, taste and sentiment; yet, at bottom, it differs less than might be supposed from passive imagination ; nor is common parlance at fault when it confounds the two under one name. The essential characteristic of both is vivid representation, intense vision.1 Hence it is that great artists have ever come so near to hallucination and madness, and hence many of them have over- stepped the limits of sanity. The history of art shows that creative imagination is transmissible by heredity. We often find families of poets, musicians, painters. Families of poets are, it would seem, more rare ; nor is the reason hard to find. No one can be a musician without an exquisite 1 At the close of a conversation about family affairs, Balzac said to Jules Sandeau, ' Now let us come to reality ' — meaning his novels. G. Flaubert, while describing the poisoning of one of his heroines, felt, as he himself says, all the symptoms of poisoning — the taste of arsenic, indigestion, and vomiting. •— Taine, L ' Intelligence^ i. p. 94. 56 Heredity. sensibility of ear, nor a painter without an innate gift for colour and form, which presupposes a certain conformation of the visual organ. These physiological conditions are not to the same degree necessary for the poetic faculty. Hence we may say that musical or plastic talent is more dependent than the poetic on the con- formation of the organs. In the former case, psychological heredity is more closely connected with physiological heredity, and this makes its transmission more certain ; for, as will be shown, heredity is a form of necessity (in other words, of mechanism) ; and this is far more inflexible in the domain of life than in that of thought In the following list, and in all others of the same kind, it is, of course, not intended to give a complete enumeration of every case of heredity. We merely wish to place facts before the reader's eyes ; we cite only well-known names, or thoroughly con- clusive cases, judging that here, as in every experimental study, the important thing is not the quantity of experiences, but their quality. Although, too, much is to be allowed for education and tradition, in considering a talent hereditary in a family, we must not attempt to explain, by these external means, what we attribute to heredity. The creative imagination is probably, of all the faculties, the one that it is least possible to produce artificially. Perhaps the following summaries of historical facts will be found to embrace enough experimenta lucifera to justify the assertion that heredity is the rule, not the exception. II. — POETS. Poets are scarcely slandered, if it be said that as a rule they form a passionate, ardent, sensitive race ; that is the very condition of the artistic temperament Hence the disorders, extravagancies, and singularities of their lives. These conditions are not favour- able to the foundation of a family. A great artist is only so by a mixture of qualities, which are, so to speak, extra-natural. This is a character which is produced only by a happy accident, and therefore its heredity must be very unstable. And yet, in examining the families of the fifty-one poets named below, there will be found twenty-two who have had one or more distinguished relatives. Their names are given in CAPITALS. Heredity of the Imagination. 5 7 LIST OF POETS. Alfieri, Anacreon, ARIOSTO, ARISTOPHANES, BURNS, BYRON, Calderon, Camoens, CHAUCER, CHENIER, COLERIDGE, CORNEILLE, COWPER, Dante, Dryden, AESCHYLUS, EURIPIDES, GOETHE, Goldoni, Gray, HEINE, Horace, HUGO, Juvenal, La Fontaine, Lamartine, Lucan, Lucretius, Metastasio, MILTON, MUSSET, Moliere, Moore, Ovid, Petrarch, Plautus, Pope, RACINE, Sappho, SCHILLER, Shakspere, Shelley, SOPHOCLES, Southey, Spencer, TASSO, Terence, TENNYSON, LOPE DE VEGA, Virgil, WORDSWORTH. It will be observed that in this list, from which no poet of eminence is intentionally omitted, some might have been excepted whose genealogies are quite unknown — Sappho, Terence, and others, who left no family. In this way we reach the conclusion that upwards of twenty out of fifty poets (or forty per cent.) had illustrious relatives. We give some details on this point : — ARIOSTO, while yet a child, wrote comedies. In his family we find — His brother Gabriel, a poet of some distinction, who, after Lodovico's death, finished the comedy of La Scholastica; His nephew Horace, Tasso's intimate friend, author of the Argumentt, and other works. ARISTOPHANES. The talent of this famous comic poet is found in a minor degree in His son Araros, author of five comedies, among which we may name the ' Kokalos ' and the ' Ailosikon;1 Another son, Nicostratos, who wrote fifteen comedies j Perhaps also another son, Philippos. BURNS appears to have inherited from his mother that excessive sensibility which made him one of the first poets of Britain. BYRON. His genealogy is interesting. His mother was an eccentric, haughty, passionate woman, and half insane. Hence a certain English author has said that ' if ever there was a case wherein hereditary influences could be pleaded as an excuse for eccentricity of character and conduct, that case was Byron's.' He was descended of a line of ancestors in whom, on both sides, was to be found everything that could destroy the harmony of character, as well as all peace and individual happiness. 58 Heredity. His daughter Ada, Lady Lovelace, was distinguished for her mathematical abilities. His grandfather, Admiral Byron, author of Travels. His/at/ier, Captain Byron, a man of dissolute habits. CHAUCER, the father of English poetry. His son, Sir Thomas, speaker of the House of Commons, ambassador to the Court of France. CH£NIER, Andre", the most illustrious of his family ; His brother, Marie-Joseph. Both took after their mother, Santi Lomaka, a Greek by descent, and a woman of distinguished talent. COLERIDGE — poet and metaphysician. The following abridged list of his descendants is taken from Galton : — His son Hartley, poet, a precocious child, whose early life was characterized by visions. His imagination was singularly vivid, and of a morbid character. His son, the Rev. Derwent, author, late Principal of the Chelsea Training College, the only survivor of the poet's children. His daughter Sara possessed all her father's individual character- istics, and was also an author. Married her cousin, and of this union was born Herbert Coleridge, a philologist CORNEILLE, Pierre, with whom may be placed His brother Thomas ; His nephew Fontenelle, his sister's son. From this sister descended, in direct line, the celebrated Charlotte Corday. /ESCHYLUS numbered among his family His brother Kynegiros, one of the heroes of Marathon ; His brother Aminyas, who commenced the battle of Salamis. His son Euphorion, and his nephew Philocles, seem to have possessed some talent as tragic poets. Philocles was victor in the contest at which Sophocles brought out his (Edipus Tyrannus. GOETHE inherited his father's physical constitution, but his mother's character. As poet and physiological student, he thus notes these hereditary influences : — Vom Vater hab' ich die Statur, Des Lebens emstes Fuhren ; Von Mlitterchen die Frohnnatur, Und Lust zu fabuliren. Heredity of the Imagination. 59 Urahnherr war der Schonsten hold, Das spukt so hin und wieder ; Urahn frau liebte Smuck und Gold Das zuckt wohl durch die Glieder. HEINE, Heinrich. With him may be mentioned his utule, Solomon Heine, the celebrated German philanthropist. HUGO, Victor. Without noticing what he may have derived from his father or mother, may be named His two sons, Charles- Victor and Francois- Victor ; His two brotJiers, both known as literary men, Eugene (died 1837), and Abel (died 1855). LUCAN. His genealogy is given under the name of SENECA, his uncle. MILTON. His father was a man of great musical talent, whose songs are still known ; His brother, a judge, also took part in political life. MUSSET, Alfred de. His talent is to some extent reproduced in His brother Paul, novelist RACINE. His son Louis, a ' good verse-maker.' SCHILLER, like Burns, seems to have derived his extreme sensitive- ness from his mother, who was a very extraordinary woman. SOPHOCLES. Part of his tragic genius lived in His son lophon, of whom Aristophanes had a high opinion ; His grandson, Sophocles the younger, twelve times crowned. TASSO, Torquato, who wrote his first poem, Rinaldo, at the age of seventeen, received his talent from His father, Bernardo, a poet of merit, author of the Amadis, and from His mother, Parzia di Rossi, a remarkable woman. VEGA, Lope de, after a long life of adventure, died a priest By Marcela he had A natural son, who, at fourteen, had already gained some dis- tinction as a poet As fond of adventure as his father, he died young in battle. WORDSWORTH, poet and metaphysician; His brother, an ecclesiastical writer j 6o Heredity. His three nephews, all distinguished scholars; one of them was senior classic at Cambridge in 1830. III. — PAINTERS. A glance at any history of painting, or a visit to a few museums, will show that families of painters are not rare. In England you have the Landseers ; in France the Bonheurs. Every one has heard of the Bellinis, Caraccios, Teniers, Van Ostades, Mieris, Van der Veldes. In a list of forty-two painters — Italian, Spanish, and Flemish — held to be of the highest rank, Gallon found twenty-one that had illustrious relatives. LIST OF PAINTERS. BASSANO, BELLINI, Buonarotti (Michael Angelo), CAGLIARI (Paul Veronese), CARACCI, Ludovico,andAnnibale; Cimabue, CORREGGIO, Domenichino, Francia, GELEE (Claude Lorrain), Giorgione, Giotto, Guido Reni, PARMEGIANO, Perugino, Sebastian del Piombo, Poussin, ROBUSTI (Tintoretto), Salvator Rosa, RAFAEL, Titian, Leonardo da Vinci. MURILLO, Ribeira, Spagnoletto, Velasquez, Gerard Douw, A. Durer, the two VAN EYCKS, Holbein, MIERIS, VAN OSTADE, POTTER, Rembrandt, Rubens, RUYSDAEL, TENIERS, VAN DYCK, VAN DER VELDE. BASSANO, Giacomo da Ponte (1510 — 1592), the greatest of his family ; His father, Francisco, founder of the school which bore his name; His four sons, Francisco, Giovanni, Leandro, Girolamo, all distinguished painters. Francesco, who was of a melancholy temperament, committed suicide at the age of 49. BELLINI, Giovanni, Venetian, was one of the first who painted in oils ; mis fattier, Jacopo, a celebrated portrait-painter. His brother. Gentile, one of the favourites of the Venetian senate. CAGLIARI (Paul Veronese) ; His fattier, Gabriele, was a sculptor; His maternal uncle, Antonio, was one of the earliest among the Venetian painters who abandoned the Gothic style ; Heredity of the Imagination. 61 His son, Carletto, a painter of great promise, died at the age of 26; Another son, Gabriele, attempted painting, but without success. CARACCI (Ludovico), founder of a school which bears his family name; His three coiisins-german, Agostino, Annibale, and Francisco. Agostino was remarkable as an artist, man of science and poet ; His nephew, Antonio, was also a distinguished painter, but died young ; Also his father, Pietro, a painter of no originality. CLAUDE LORRAIN (Gelde) never married. His brother, was an engraver on wood. CORREGIO, Allegri, died young, leaving An only son, Pomponeo, who painted fresco in his father's style. EYCK, Jan van, and Hubert, two brothers whose names are inseparable ; Their father was an obscure painter; Their sister, Margaret, followed painting with zeaL MIERIS, FranQois, called the old ; His two sons, John and William, the latter scarcely inferior to his father ; His grandson, Francois, called the younger, son of William. MURILLO, Bartolome Esteban, was pupil of His uncle, Juan of Castille, a painter of great merit We may also name his uncle, Augustino del Castillo, and his cousin, Antonio del Castillo y Salvedra, both painters of merit OSTADE, Adrian van, whose name is almost inseparable from that of his brother, Isaac, who died very young. PARMEGIANO (Mazzuoli), a great colourist ' into whom ' according to Vasari ' Raffaelle's soul passed ; ' His father Filippo, and his two uncles, Michael and Pietro, painters of some note. POTTER, Paul, the most celebrated animal-painter of the Dutch School ; His father, Peter, a landscape-painter. RAFAEL SANZIO. \\\& father, Giovanni San/.io. 02 Heredity. ROBUSTI (Tintoretto), one of the most celebrated painters of the Venetian school ; His daughter, Marietta, famous as a portrait-painter; His son, Domenico, a good portrait-painter. RUYSDAEL, Jakob, and his brother, Salomon, both landscape- painters. TENIERS, David, called the younger, the most celebrated of his family ; His father, David the elder; His brother, Abraham. TITIAN (Vecellio). In his family were nine painters of merit, among them his brother, Francesco, and his sons, Pomponio and Horatio. The following is his genealogy from Galton. Francesco Titian Mario Tizianello Tomaso Fabricio .esarc Pomponio Horatio VAN DYCK, Antony. His father was a painter, his mother worked landscapes on tapestry with wonderful skill. VAN DER VELDE, William (the younger), a master of marine land- scape ; His father, Van der Velde the elder, and His son, William, both marine painters ; Probably the two brothers, Isaiah and Jan van der Velde, born at Leyden, and Adrian, a native of Amsterdam, were of this family. Heredity of the Imagination. 63 rv. — MUSICIANS. The development of the art of music is far more recent than that of painting. It dates back no more than three centuries. Still we shall find that the heredity of this art is not rare : the family of the Bachs alone presents us with most singular evidence. Of great musicians who constitute exceptions to the law of heredity I find only Bellini, Donizetti, Rossini, and Halevy. ALLEGRI, the famous composer of the Sistine Chapel Miserere, was of the same family as Correggio the painter. AMATI, Andrea, the most illustrious member of a family of violinists at Cremona ; His brother, Niccola, his two sons, Antonio and Girolamo, and his grandson. BACH, Sebastian, the greatest of his family. The Bach family is, perhaps, the most distinguished instance of mental heredity on record. It began in 1550, and continued through eight generations, the last known member being Regina Susanna, who was living in indigence in the year 1800. * During a period of nearly 200 years this family produced a multitude of artists of the first rank. There is no other instance of such remarkable talents being combined in a single family. Its head was Weit Bach, a baker of Presburg, who used to seek relaxation from labour in music and song. He had two sons, who commenced that unbroken line of musicians of the same name that for nearly two centuries overran Thuringia, Saxony, and Franconia. They were all organists, church singers, or what is called in Germany Stadt- Musiker. When they had become too numerous to live near each other, and the members of the family were scattered abroad, they resolved to meet once a year, on a stated day, with a view to keep up a sort of patriarchal bond of union. This custom was kept up until nearly the middle of the i8th century, and often more than 100 persons bearing the name of Bach — men, women, and children — assembled.' In this family are reckoned twenty-nine eminent musicians. Fe'tis, in his Dictionnaire Biographique, mentions fifty-seven mem- bers of this family. BEETHOVEN, Ludwig ; 4 64 Heredity. His father, Johannes, was tenor in the choir of the Elector of Cologne ; His grandfather, Ludwig, was first singer, and then Kapell- meister in the same choir. BELLINI, son and grandson of musicians of no great mark. BENDA, Francisco (1709 — 1786), the principal member of a remarkable family of violinists ; His three brotliers, Giovanni, Giuseppe, and Georgio ; His two sons, Federico and Carolo, and two daughters; His two nepJiews, Ernest, son of Giuseppe, and Federico, son of Georgio. BONONCINI. His father, Antonio, and his son, Giovanni ; the latter was for some time in England, and the rival of HandeL DONIZETTI, Gaetano ; His brother, Giuseppe, specially cultivated military music, DUSSEK, Ladislas, a noted composer and performer j His brother, Johannes, an organist of repute ; His brother, Franz, a good violinist ; His daughter, Olivia, inherited her father's talent EICHHORN and his two sons, who from their earliest years showed great talent as instrumentalists. GABRIELLI, Andrea, and his nephew Giovanni. HALEVY. Of Jewish origin — a point worthy of note, to which reference will again be made ; His brother, Ldon, literary man and poet HAYDN and his brother, who was a good organist and composer of church service. HILLIER, Johann Adam — musical composition and works on music ; His son, Friedrich Adam (1768 — 1812) ; His grandson, Ferdinand, ' now one of the best composers in Germany ' in the opinion of Fdtis. KEISER, Reinhard, his father and his daughter. MENDELSSOHN, of a Jewish family; His grandfather, Moses, philosopher, wrote works on aesthetics ; His uncle, an author ; His sister, a distinguished woman, a clever pianist — she had a share in much of the work done by her brother. Heredity of the Intellect. 65 MEYERBEER (Jakob Baer) ; His two brothers, the one, Wilhelm, an astronomer, noted for his lunar chart, the other, Michael, a poet, who died young. MOZART. His father, Johann Georg, second Kapellmeister to the Prince- Bishop of Salzburg ; His sister, whose success while yet a child seemed to give evidence of talent not realized in maturer years ; His son, Carl, was an amateur musician ; His son, Wolfgang, born four months after his father's death, gave evidence early in life of a happy turn for music. PALESTRINA. His sons, Angelo, Rodolfo, and Sylla, who all died young, seemed to have inherited some of their father's talent, if we may judge by some of their compositions which have been preserved. ROSSINI. His father and mother musicians at fairs. CHAPTER V. HEREDITY OF THE INTELLECT. I. THE faculty of knowing may be hypothetically divided into two parts : the one includes perception, memory, and imagination, of which we have now studied the heredity ; there will remain for the other a certain number of faculties which have for their object abstract and general conceptions, which we will here call intellect proper. We have now to consider if these last-named modes of knowing, which are the highest of all, are subject to the law of heredity. First, it is evident that these manifestations of thought are indeed the higher forms of the human intellect — that is to say, of the highest intellect of which we are cognizant Man can rise from the concrete and confused sensation to the simplicity of abstract notions ; he can reduce a countless mass of facts to one general idea, and denote it by an arbitrary sign ; he can, by ratiocin- ation, arrive at the most remote, or the most complicated consc- 66 Heredity. quences, and divine the future from the past It is because man can compare, judge, abstract, generalize, deduct, and form induc- tions, that sciences, religion, art, morals, social and political life, have sprung into being, and have continued their incessant evolu- tion. So wonderful are these faculties, that, by their accumulated results, they have made of man, as it were, a being apart from all the rest of nature. The inquiry, therefore, whether these faculties can be hereditary, is an inquiry whether psychological life, in its highest form, is subject to this law of biology. If we take a narrow and superficial point of view, it might appear as if, so far, we had at most proved the heredity of the lower forms of intelligence, and as if we had merely touched the outer margin of the subject ; and it might be said that we have no right to argue from the less to the greater, from the lower to the higher. Now, however, we meet the diffi- culty face to face. It cannot, however, be said that the controversy with regard to this point has been very keen. It could only have been maintained by metaphysicians who have for the most part shown the utmost indifference for this subject The partisans of experience, physio- logists and others, who have treated of heredity, have generally attributed to it the greatest degree of influence. Some, carried away by misdirected zeal, and more concerned about the hypo- thetical consequences of such a doctrine than about its intrinsic truth, have imagined a division of the intellectual faculties, and have withdrawn one portion of it from heredity. According to this theory, which claims the authority of Aristotle, we have two souls, the one sensitive or animal, transmissible like the body, and the other rational or human, ' not dependent on the act of generation,' and which would, therefore, lie wholly beyond the influence of heredity. This hypothesis, now wholly obsolete, needs no discussion. They who maintain it, and Lordat in particular, have shown so clearly that their preconceived opinion would not submit to facts, that criticism is quite superfluous. The problem for us is this : Are the higher, like the lower, modes of intellect transmissible ? Are our faculties of abstraction, judgment, ratiocination, invention, governed by heredity, as are our perceptive faculties ? Or, in plainer terms, and in common Heredity of the Intellect. 67 parlance, — Are common sense, insanity, genius, talent, subtlety, aptitude for abstract studies, hereditary ? In order to reply, we will examine the question from the two-fold standpoint of theory and fact, of metaphysics and experience. Reason will show that the heredity of intellect is possible, experience that it is real. If we admit the heredity of the lower modes of intellect — and facts are here decisive — logic alone ought to convince us that it extends to all intellect, for it is admitted by all schools of thought that this faculty is essentially one. Psychology has always dis- tinguished different modes of the faculty of knowing, and, indeed, the analytical study of intellect is only possible on that condition. But these are but differences in the way of looking at them, not specific differences. In the same way, phrenologists have thought that they could assign to each faculty a special portion of the brain ; but, even had their view been sustained, such localization would in no degree have invalidated the unity of the intellect itself. How- ever far back the question may be carried, every inquiry into the ultimate nature of intellect must necessarily issue in one or other of these two conclusions : either it is an effect, of which the cause is the organism ; or it is a cause, of which the effect is all that exists or can be known. The first hypothesis is called materialism, the second idealism. We shall see, taking our stand on reasoning only, that between these two hypotheses and the heredity of the higher modes of intellect there exists no contradiction, no logical incompatibility. There is no difficulty in the materialistic hypothesis; for if it be admitted that thought is only a property of living matter, then, as heredity is one of the laws of life, it must therefore be also one of the laws of thought. Or, in more precise terms, intellect is a function whose organ is the brain ; the brain is transmissible, as is every other organ, the stomach, the lungs, and the heart; the function is transmissible with the organ; therefore intellect is transmissible with the brain. Physiological heredity involves, as a necessary consequence, psychological heredity in all its forms. On the other hand, the idealistic hypothesis seems to stand in utter opposition to heredity of intellect ; but, as will be seen, this opposition is not so radical as would at first appear. 68 Heredity. Idealism has recently found learned and able advocates; its details will hereafter be noticed. Enough here to explain, in a few words, that idealism is that metaphysical system which holds thought to be the only reality. Sometimes, regarding thought or intellect as a secondary and derivative mode of existence, it strives to ascend still higher, and to discover in will the first cause of all things, the supreme reality. Such is the position of Schopenhauer and his school, that is to say, the most philosophic form of con- temporary idealism. Thus exalted, and under this exceedingly abstract form, idealism is as far removed as it well can be from experience, in the common acceptation of that term. To ex- perience, however, it must come. This system, like all others, must account for the world of sense, for nature, and her phenomena and laws. There being no other absolute existence save thought, matter must be referred to thought Matter, according to Schel- ling, can be nothing else but ' extinct or exteriorized mind.' Hegel defines it to be idea made objective to itself. It matters little what these theories are worth. Idealism has never explained the transition from the absolute to the relative, from mind to matter, except by metaphors, — a process, moreover, which it has in common with every other metaphysical system. It is enough that it admits the material world, with its laws, as a purely phenomenal existence. In this admission we find the basis for a reconciliation between idealism and heredity. For if we hold, with Schopenhauer, that the will is the primitive element in everything and in every being, then intellect will be only a derived faculty, a first step toward materialization. Hence it will be subject to the mechanism of logic, emprisoned in the ' forms of thought,' in the categories discovered and analyzed by Kant, and, like all the rest of nature, it will have its laws. This admission is enough. Henceforth, between the idealists and ourselves there exists no real opposition. Their theory is that there are two distinct modes of existence : the noumenon in the will and the phenomenon in the intellect and in nature. To the mind, regarded as noumenon, none of our conceptions of laws, logical necessity, or categories are applicable; for all this only pertains to the mind considered as phenomenon. Consequently, since we restrict ourselves to the studv of experience — that is to say, of Heredity of the Intellect. 69 facts and their laws — there can be no disagreement between us and the idealists. The difference between us springs, not from any diametrical opposition of doctrine, but from the fact that to the study of phenomena which both sides pursue, and to which we strictly confine ourselves, the idealist joins a metaphysical theory, which, in our eyes, has no scientific value, since it transcends science. It is true that idealists hold that the laws of nature, and, gener- ally, of internal or external experience, have only a relative phenomenal value ; but we have never asserted that experience can give us the absolute. If the idealist admits, as he does, that in the order of physical, chemical, physiological, and psychological facts there are coexistences and sequences that can be reduced to fixed formulas, he has no fair grounds for refusing to concede to heredity a place among these empiric laws, though he may deny that it applies to the intellect considered as noumenon. Thus the heredity of intellectual faculties can be reconciled with the most transcendental idealism. If, now, we examine the question in our own way, that is, without transcending experience, we say that intellect, in its inmost nature, appears to us as one of the manifestations of the unknowable. We may, indeed, as psychology and the sciences advance, determine its empiric laws and conditions more precisely ; but we shall not arrive at its essen- tial nature. It is indisputable that within the last thirty years English and German psychologists — and particularly Herbert Spencer, Bain, and Wundt — have, with a precision previously unknown, analyzed the modes of intellect and the conditions of its development. They have shown that all intellectual processes, from the highest and most complex down to the most elementary, consist in apprehending resemblances and differences. To assimi- late and dissimilate, to integrate and disintegrate, to combine and differentiate — such is the fundamental process of the intellect, and it is found in all its operations, as well in the simplest as in the most complex. Yet this analysis, while it discloses to us in a striking way the ' unity of composition ' of psychic processes, in reality only enables us to understand the mechanism of intellect and the laws of its empiric development We may, indeed, reduce the infinite variety of the facts of thought to two simple facts, viz. 7O Heredity combination and differentiation ; but it still remains true that these two facts themselves exist only in and by thought, and we do not know what thought is. If we add that these phenomena are given us under the form of a sequence, or of simple series, and that suc- cession is the essential condition of consciousness, we do but express the form of thought, not its nature, for things may be successive without being facts of consciousness. Thought, there- fore, is still impenetrable to us: it explains all things, but does not explain itself; it is one of those noumena wherewith we solve the enigma of the universe, but it is itself an enigma. The unity of the intellect is an indisputable fact, established alike by consciousness, experience, and theory. Nothing, therefore, could be more chimerical that to suppose that given intellectual opera- tions are, by their own nature, beyond the laws of heredity. Logic rejects any such conclusion, and it is no less contradicted by facts. It will, perhaps, excite surprise that, in the foregoing remarks, we have not named that highest mode of intellect which metaphysi- cians call reason. This faculty — whose object, according to some, is the absolute, the infinite, the perfect, according to others, the necessary process of thought — is pre-eminently the metaphysical faculty. It has its seat in that region of the impalpable and the invisible where we look for the ultimate reasons of things. It lies so far above experience that, in a study on experimental psychology, we are almost obliged not to speak of it We need only declare our position with regard to every possible theory of reason. Metaphysicians are by no means agreed as to the nature of this faculty. In France, a theory, borrowed from Leibnitz, broadened and deepened by idealists in our own day, reduces reason to two constituent principles, viz. the principle of contra- diction or of identity, and the principle of raison suffisante — both ultimately reducible to one. The principle of identity, the last resort of logic and science, is subordinate to the principle of raison suffisantc, which is the ultimate principle of all existences, because the latter accounts for all things, is not limited to the declaration that a thing is, but why it is, and what determined its existence ; and this ultimate principle itself would not be explic- able were it not that it implies the summiim intelligibile, which is identical with the good. All things, therefore, would be reduced Heredity of the Intellect. 71 to a moral principle. Logic, metaphysics, and morals are so thoroughly blended together, that the endless variety of human knowledge and of human actions would have but one origin, and, however unlike they may be to one another in their phenomenal multiplicity, they would be identical in their rational unity. This coherent theory is, by its own nature, placed out of the reach of all experience and all verification. Attractive as it may be, it has the radical defect of all metaphysics, that we cannot say whether it has any objective, absolute value, or whether it is merely subjective. This, however, is clear, that between this theory and ours no opposition is possible, since each occupies a province of its own, and the world of pure reason begins only where the world of phenomena ends. If from this strictly metaphysical theory of reason we descend to the usual doctrine, the joint product of the Scotch school and of French eclecticism, it will be found perfectly reconcilable with the heredity of intellect, even in its highest form. The one fixed and essential point in the vague, loose, and often contradictory system of Reid and Cousin is this, that reason is ' an impersonal, universal, and necessary ' faculty. But it would hardly be possible to name any characters more in accordance with the law of heredity. Without stopping to inquire how the infallible transmission of these characters is explained — a question never so much as raised by the eclectic school — whether it is connected with some permanent state of the brain, or whether it results from some mysterious operation, it is enough that it is admitted that they are the same, everywhere, always, and in all men. Hence they are specific characteristics; that is to say, it is as much a contradiction in terms to think of a man without reason as of a vertebrate animal without a cerebro- spinal axis. But, as we shall see later, the special property of heredity is precisely this, — that it transmits, without exception, all specific characteristics. Thus, if we accept Cousin's theory, there is no faculty of man that is more certainly transmissible than the highest form of intellect — reason. For heredity, too, is impersonal, since it preserves the species ; and universal, since it governs the whole domain of life ; and it is one of the forms of inflexible necessity. Thus, then, either we place intellect and reason, ;ts highest 72 Heredity. form, beyond time and space, and then they have nothing in common with experience; or we consider them in their pheno- menal manifestations, and then there is no logical ground for exempting them from the law of heredity. II. It must now be shown from facts that this transmission is not only possible, but actual. Here is a difficulty. Intellect — that is to say, the faculty of comparing, judging, reasoning — is found everywhere — in science, politics, art, industrial inventions, learning, history, etc. Is it, therefore, necessary to class under the head of intellect every case of heredity in politics, literature, and art ? We must have recourse to an artificial process, and divide what in nature is united. Surrendering, therefore, to imagination all that concerns artists, and to active faculties all that has to do with politics, we here treat only of cases in which pure intellect — that is to say, reflection, taste, or criticism — predominates. Still these cases are sufficiently numerous to make two catego- ries. In the first we place men of science, philosophers, poli- tical economists, etc. ; in the second, writers, properly so called, historians, critics, and novelists. This division is, of course, some- what arbitrary, nor should any great stress be laid on it ; but it will enable us to introduce more order into our arrangement MEN OF SCIENCE. Families eminent in science are not rare. Many scientific men take after their fathers. The atmosphere of free inquiry in which they were brought up has not been without influence on their vocation. Still, education does not constitute genius ; and in order to have a turn for scientific investigation, something more is required than the external transmission resulting from education. It has also been observed that the mothers or grandmothers of several men of science were remarkable women, as in the case of Buffon, Bacon, Condorcet, Cuvier, d'Alembert, Forbes, Watt, Jussieu, etc.1 Heredity among philosophers is somewhat rare. 1 Gallon, who notes this fact, assigns for it a reason which to us seems very questionable. Women, says he, are blinder partisans and more servile fol- lowers of custom than men ; and it is a great blessing for a child to have a mother Heredity of tJu Intellect. 73 This will appear less surprising when we bear in mind that few philosophers have left any posterity. Thus, in modern times, Des- cartes, Leibnitz, Malebranche, Kant, Spinoza, Hume, A. Comte, Schopenhauer, etc., either never married or had no children. The exceptions, real or apparent, to the laws of heredity are : Bacon (Roger), Berkeley, Berzelius, Blumenbach, Brewster, Comte, Copernicus, Descartes, Galen, Galvani, Hegel, Hume, Kant, Kepler, Locke, Malebranche, Priestley, Reaumur, Rumford, Spinoza, Young, etc. AMpkRE, Andrd-Marie, mathematician, physicist, and philosopher ; His son, Jean-Jacques, traveller, literary man, historian. ARAGO, Frangois ; His three brothers, Jean, Jacques, and Etienne, authors and artists ; His son, Emmanuel, lawyer, politician. ARISTOTLE. Though ancient genealogies are difficult to make out, we may name His father, Nicomachos, physician to Amyntas II., and author of medical works ; His son, Nicomachos, held by some to be the author of the Ethics which bear his name ; His nephew, Callisthenes, son of Hero, a cousin of Aristotle. BACON, Francis ; His father, Nicholas, Lord Keeper of the Great Seal ; His mother, Ann Cooke, belorged to a highly-gifted family. She was a distinguished scholar, and was very well versed in Latin and Greek ; His brothers were distinguished men ; among them, Nathaniel, a brother by another mother, who was a clever painter. BENTHAM, Jeremy, logist and moralist ; His brother, General Samuel Bentham, a distinguished officer ; His nephew, George, an eminent botanist, president of the Linnaean Society. BERNOUILLI, Jacques, of Swiss origin, was the first to establish the reputation of this family, which is famous for the number of that approves its free inquiry into truth. We will come back to this poinl when treating of the Laws of Heredity. 74 Heredity. mathematicians, physicists, and naturalists it has produced. The following is a list of this family. Each of the members mentioned was distinguished in some branch of science. Jacques Jean I Nicolas, Daniel, Jean Nicolas Jean Jacques In our own century there yet remained in Switzerland descend- ants of this family: Christophe Bernoulli (1782 — 1863), Pro- fessor of Natural Science in the University of Bale ; Jerome Bernouilli (1745 — 1829), chemist and mineralogist BOYLE, Robert In his family we count no less than seventeen notable members, most of whom gained distinction in political life. BRODIE, Benjamin, one of the most celebrated surgeons in Eng- land. His family reckons six distinguished members. BUCKLAND, William, geologist ; His son, Frank, naturalist, well-known for his popular writings. BUFFON. His views on heredity will be hereafter stated. He used to say that he derived all his mental qualities from his mother; His son, a man of good endowments, guillotined as an ' aristo- crat' CASSINI, Jean-Dominique, a celebrated astronomer, the first remarkable member of a family which might be compared with that of the Bernouillis ; His son, Jacques Cassini, astronomer ; His grandson, Ce'sare-Franc.ois Cassini de Thury, became a mem- ber of the Academic des Sciences at the age of twenty-two; His great-grandson, Jacques-Dominique, Director of the Observ- atory at Paris, completed the topographical chart of France ; His great-great-grandson, Henri-Gabriel (1781-1832), naturalist and philologist, died of cholera. CONDORCET, mathematician and philosopher, seems to have derived much of his mental qualities from his mother; His uncle, a bishop, was a relative of the Cardinal de Bernis. Heredity of the Intellect. 75 CUVIER, Georges, naturalist ; His mother, an accomplished woman, took great pains with his education ; His brother, Fre'deric, naturalist. Researches on Instinct. D'ALEMBERT, was a natural son of Destouches, inspector of artillery, and of Mdlle. de Tencin ; His mother was noted for her wit, and belonged to a family that counted among its members the Cardinal de Tencin, Pont de Veyle, a dramatic author, and d'Argental, the corres- pondent of Voltaire. DARWIN, Erasmus, author of Zoonomia ; His two sons, Charles and Robert, physicians of note, of whom Charles died very young ; His grandson, Charles, the celebrated author of the Origin of Species; In this family we mention only those most worthy of note. DAVY, Humphrey, chemist, and his brother John, physiologist DE CANDOLLE, Augustin-Pyrame, and his son, Alphonse, both celebrated botanists. EULER, Leonhard. His father was a mathematician ; His three sons, Johann, Carl, and Christoph, astronomers, physicists, and mathematicians. FRANKLIN, Benjamin. Two great-grandsons, authors of works on the natural sciences, on chemistry and on medicine. GALILEO-GALILEI ; His father, Vicenzo, wrote a theory of music ; His son, Vicenzo, was the first to apply to timepieces his father's discoveries as to the pendulum. GEOFFROY SAINT-HILAIRE, Etienne ; His brother, an officer highly esteemed by Napoleon, died of fatigue after the battle of Austerlitz ; His son, Isidore, a naturalist. GMELIN, Johan Friedrich. The father, two uncles, a cousin, and a son of this famous German chemist, were known by their works on botany, medicine, and chemistry. GREGORY, James. The most distinguished of a family of mathe- maticians and physicists, which reckons no less than fifteen J6 Heredity. remarkable members, among them his son and his two grand' sons. Thomas Reid was the son of one of his nieces. HALLER, Albrecht, regarded as the founder of modern physiology j His/tf//kr, learned in the law; His son, a literary man and historian. HARTLEY, David, philosopher and physician ; His son, a member of Parliament, a correspondent of Franklin, and one of the plenipotentiaries at the Peace of Paris. HERSCHEL, Sir William ; His father and brother are specially noted as musicians — musical talent was hereditary in the family; His sister, Caroline, aided him in his astronomical labours, and received a gold medal from the Royal Society ; His son JOHN, one of the greatest astronomers of this century ; Two grandsons, also astronomers. HOOKER, William, and his son, Joseph D., botanists, HUMBOLDT, Alexander, and his brother William. HUNTER, John, the famous English anatomist ; His brother William, and his nephew Matthew, were also dis- tinguished anatomists. HUYGHENS, a Dutch astronomer; His father, a mathematician and statesman ; His brother was engaged in public life, and followed William IIL to England. JUSSIEU, Bernard de, may be regarded as the most eminent of a family of botanists, whose genealogy is as follows : — ^ Antoine Bernard Joseph Laurent I Adrien LEIBNITZ. His grandfather and his father professors of jurispru- dence at Leipzig. LINN^US. The talent of this great botanist is found, though in a lower degree, in his son Charles. MILL, John Stuart Hisfaf/ier, James, was well-known for his works on psychology and political economy. Heredity of the Intellect. 77 NEWTON, like many men of genius, stands alone. Galton, however, thinks Charles Hutton, the mathematician, and James Hutton, the geologist, were his remote descendants. OERSTED, Danish physicist ; His brother and his nephew were statesmen ; His son, a naturalist and traveller PLATO left no children ; His nephew, Speusippos, was head of the Platonic school after the master's death. PLINY (the Elder), naturalist ; His nephew, Pliny the Younger. SAUSSURE, Swiss geologist and physicist j His father, author of works on agriculture and statistics ; His son, a naturalist SAY, Jean-Baptiste, his son, Horace, and his grandson, Le'on, a family of political economists. STEPHENSON, George, and his son Robert, both celebrated en- gineers. WATT, James. His mother, Agnes Muirhead, was a superior woman ; His grandfather was a humble professor of mathematics ; Hisfat/ier was baillie of Glasgow for twenty years; One of his sons, who died at the age of twenty-seven, gave great promise as a geologist, and was the friend of Sir Humphrey Davy. AUTHORS AND MEN OF LETTERS. ADDISON, one of the best prose writers of England, minister in the reign of George I. ; His/0//&r, a very learned divine and author. ARNOLD, Thomas, Head-Master of Rugby School, one of the reformers of public instruction in England ; His son, Matthew, poet and critic. BOILEAU, Nicolas, falls rather under this category than under that of imagination ; His two brothers, Jacques, Doctor of the Sorbonne, and Gilles, both authors. BOSSUET. We may, perhaps, class with him His nephew, Bishop of Troyes, who edited his uncle's works. 78 Heredity. BRONTE, Charlotte, published, under the name 'Currer Bell,' Jane Eyre at the age of twenty-two. Her sisters, under the names Ellis and Acton Bell, published remarkable novels. CASAUBON, Isaac, and his son Me'ric, scholars and philologists. CHAMPOLLION, J.-Franc,ois, the earliest interpreter of hieroglyphics; His son, Jean-Jacques, historian and archaeologist. ETIENNE, a family of literary men and scholars, whose principal members were — Robert, who printed the Bible ; His brother Charles, scholar and man of science ; His son Henri, author of the Greek Lexicon; Another son, Robert FENELON, Archbishop of Cambrai. His nephew, ambassador in Holland, author of diplomatic memoirs. Also two great-nephews were remarkable men. GRAMMONT, DE, author of the famous Memoires ; His father, Philibert, a courtier of much wit, and an author; His grand-uncle, Richelieu (vide Richelieu). GROTIUS, founder of international law ; His grandfather, a scholar; His father, curator of the University of Leyden; His uncle, Cornelius, professor of philosophy and jurisprudence ; His son, Petras, diplomatist and scholar. HALLAM. His father, Dean of Bristol, and his mother are both spoken of by the biographers as remarkable persons ; His son Arthur, who died at twenty-three ; the subject of Tenny- son's In Memoriam; His other son, Henry, died at twenty-six ; was a young man of great promise. HELVETIUS, author and philosopher; His father and grandfather were distinguished physicians, and inspectors general of the hospitals of Paris. LAMB, Charles, whose name is always inseparable from that of his sister Mary. LESSING, Gottlieb Ephraim, had two brothers, Karl and Johann, both distinguished as men of letters. MACAULAY, Thomas Babington. His grandfather, minister of Inverary, was an eloquent preacher; His father, a brilliant writer and zealous abolitionist ; Heredity of the Intellect. 79 Two uncles, one of them a general, long governed a portion of the Madras Presidency ; the other was tutor to the Princess Caroline of Brunswick. NIEBUHR, the Roman historian ; Hisfat/ier, traveller and author. PALGRAVE, Sir Francis, author of erudite works on Anglo-Saxon history. Two sons, one a scholar, the other a traveller and orientalist. PORSON. A family of classical scholars. We have already mentioned the ' Porson memory.' ROSCOE, well-known by his historical studies on the period of the Renaissance, had Three sons, political writers and poets. LE SAGE, novelist. With him may be named Two sons, dramatists and actors. SCAI.IGER, Julius Caesar, first made his mark as a scholar at the age of forty-seven ; His son Joseph, a scholar, like his father. SCHLEGEL, Wilhelm, and his brother, Friedrich; Their father was a well-known preacher, who also wrote some poems ; Two uncles, one dramatic poet and critic, the other historian to the King of Denmark. SENECA, Lucius Annseus. His father, Marcus, a rhetorician, had a prodigious memory; His brother, Gallio, Proconsul of Achaia, considered as one of the most accomplished Romans of his day ; His nephew, Marcus Annaeus Lucan, the poet. SEVIGNE, the Marquise de ; Her son was, as her letters show, a man, though dissipated, of considerable wit ; Her cousin, Bussy-Rubutin, was of similar character. STAEL, Madame de. Her grandfather, Charles Fre'de'ric Necker, was professor of law at Geneva, and wrote on that subject; Her father, minister of Louis XVI., and an author ; Her uncle, Louis Necker, professor of mathematics at Geneva ; The son and grandson of the latter, Jacques and Louis Necker, professors of natural science at Geneva. 8o Heredity* SWIFT. The poet Dryden was his grand-uncle. TROLLOPE, Mrs., the novelist; Two sons, Anthony and Thomas, novelists, The list might easily have been extended, but the names here given are probably sufficient for our purpose. CHAPTER VI. HEREDITY OF THE SENTIMENTS AND THE PASSIONS. L MAN is situated in the midst of the universe, which acts upon him only by its properties. Colours, odours, savours, forms, resistances, movements, become modes of our organism, producing therein a shock to the nerves. Then all these peripheric im- pressions pass to the brain, probably into the optic thalami ; and, being thence transmitted to the cortical substance of the brain, they are transformed, we know not how, into facts of consciousness : the physiological phenomenon becomes psychological, consti- tuting that state of the mind which we denominate cognition. But this is not all. The nerve-vibrations produced by material objects not only make us acquainted with something outside of us, but they also produce within us a certain agreeable or disagreeable state, which we call feeling. If there were no such reverberation of pleasure or pain within us, then our experiences of the external world would be, as Bichat says, ' only a frigid series of intellectual phenomena.' Those phenomena of sensation of which the subjective cha- racter is opposed to the objective character of the phenomena of cognition may have an ideal as well as a real cause. Experience shows that pure concepts — simple ideas — may not only be acts of consciousness, but may also produce in us agreeable or painful conditions. Thus, whoever conceives the ideal of a future state of society, with a larger measure of justice, morality, science, and happiness, simultaneously with his perception of this fair vision is pleasurably affected by the sight of what might be, painfully by the sight of what is. If we add that pleasure and pain may be excited in us either Heredity of the Sentiments and the Passions. 8 1 by some state of our organs dependent on the vital processes, or by recollections suggested by memory, we have enumerated every mode of cognition which can produce phenomena of sensation. Causes — real and ideal — present and past — all these elements are added to each other, placed in juxtaposition and fusion, and neutralize each other, so as to produce these complex sensations, which make their appearance very slowly, both in the individual and in the species. Thus, the sentiment of nature in a poet of the nineteenth century, a Byron or a Goethe, is the result of so great a number of actual perceptions, recollections, and ideas blended together, that it defies the analysis of the most accom- plished psychologist The psychology of the sentiments, more- over, is far from being as advanced as that of the intellect. In studying the sentiments, we may do so either as naturalists or as metaphysicians. In the former case, we describe and classify the various phenomena of sensibility; this is the work of the psychologist In the other case, we strive to reduce all these phenomena to their law, their ultimate cause ; and this is the work of the philosopher. The descriptive method is much indebted to contemporary physiologists and psychologists, and particularly to Mr. Bain in his great work, The Emotions and the Will. Still, there is no definite classification of phenomena of the affections, for this can only be founded on an embryology of the sentiments, which has, as yet, no existence. Every naturalist knows that a natural classi- fication is based on anatomy, physiology, and embryology. So, too, in psychology, until we have investigated and described the manifestations of sentiment in the animal kingdom, and in the lower races, with a view to a comparative psychology; until we have traced the evolution of the sentiments, in the individual and in the species, in order to ascertain its genesis, it will be impossible to arrive at a natural, objective, stable classi- fication. Since Spinoza, no essential contribution has been made to a philosophical study of the ultimate reason of sensible phenomena. Physiologists — those, at least, who are acquainted with philosophy — appear to have the same opinion ; for Muller copies the third book of Spinoza's Ethics, and Dr. Maudsley, in his recent work, 82 Heredity. The Physiology and Pathology of Mind, says 'the admirable explanation of the passions given by Spinoza has never been surpassed, and certainly it will not be easy to surpass it' As the author of the Ethics profoundly observes, the ultimate explanation of all sensible phenomena is found in the fact of desire, ' desire meaning appetite with self-consciousness,' and appetite being ' the very essence of man, in so far as it is directed to acts which tend towards his conservation.' Desire is the physical and moral constitution of man, inasmuch as it strives towards being and well-being, towards existence and development. It has its ultimate root in the region of the unconscious ; nor do we know how it becomes conscious, under that form of tendency which characterizes it Desire is, like thought, one of the forms of the unknowable : it is the unknown quantity, the x which serves to explain for us all phenomena of the affections. We may, indeed, reduce the endless variety of passions, emotions, and sentiments to two very broad states, viz. pleasure and pain — that is to say, an augmentation or diminution of being — but the cause of the two states is desire. It is just because there are in us tendencies that may be satisfied or opposed, that we feel pleasure or pain. In fact, when we experience pleasure or pain, we wish to preserve the one and to destroy the other; but this conscious desire, sometimes regarded as the effect of the primitive unconscious desire, is, in reality, only a continuation of it That state of tension which we call desire, and which lasts as long as we live, is modified each instant — and hence our joys and our sorrows ; these are but moments of a continuous process, and desire is, as it were, the woof on which the chances of life embroider all our emotions. In sensibility everything tends first of all and directly towards ourselves ; later and indirectly towards others. ' The love of self is the root of all the passions ; it is the supreme law of sensibility, the nature of which is to look only to its own good.' We love only ourselves ; or, in others, that which is like ourselves. Our sympathetic tendencies, manifold and strong though they be, are derived from, and may be ultimately reduced to, love of self without egotism. Sympathy being, in its genuine sense, ' the tendency of one individual to fall in with the emotional or active Heredity of the Sentiments and the Passions. 83 states of others,' * to have a community of sentiments with a man or an animal is to resemble him in one respect ; it means being at once ourselves and another. Our selfish and our sympathetic tendencies are, therefore, both equally natural, but the former are based upon our own nature, the latter on an analogy with it The admirable researches of physiologists on the sympathetic contagion of nervous diseases, may some day serve as the basis for new studies on the emotions. This is not the place to enter on them ; we would merely show that phenomena of the affections pertain to our inmost being. By this fact of cognition the outer world is let in upon us, and is reproduced in miniature, for thought is nothing but existence arriving at self-consciousness ; but our feeble personality is associated with this impersonal state by the pleasures and pains it produces in us ; for sensation and volition make us what we are. The modes of sensibility are so intimately connected with the organs, and with the whole con- stitution, that, a priori, we might conclude that they are transmitted by heredity. Experience will be found to verify this hypothesis. II. We can cite only striking facts — that is to say, passions so violent or so extravagant as to attract the attention of the physician or the historian ; yet any one, by questioning his own memory, may easily see that certain modes of sensation, and, consequently, of action, may be preserved hereditarily in families too obscure for notice. First, then, in animals the transmission of individual character is a fact so common as scarcely to need illustration. ' A horse that is naturally vicious, sulky, and restive,' says Buffon, 'will beget foals with the same character.' Every horse-breeder has verified this fact in regard to his stud. ' Heredity,' says Girou de Buzareingues, ' may, even in animals, extend to their most whimsical peculiarities. A hound taken from the teat, and bred far away from either parent, was incorrigibly obstinate and gun shy in circumstances where other dogs were 'Bain, The Emotions, ch. xii., 'On Sympathy.' The entire chapter should be studied. 84 Heredity. eagerly excited. When a bystander expressed his surprise, he was told that there was nothing remarkable, " his father was the same." ' Nor is the transmission of characters less striking when races and species are crossed. As we have seen, when the domestic pig and the wild boar, or the wolf and the dog are crossed, some of the progeny inherit the savage, and others the domestic instincts. Similar facts have been observed by Girou in the crossing of different races of dogs and cats. ' Lord Orford, as is well known,' says Darwin, 'crossed his famous greyhounds, which failed in courage, with a bull-dog — this breed being chosen from being deficient in the power of scent. At the sixth or seventh genera- tion there was not a vestige left of the form of the bull dog, but his courage and indomitable perseverance remained.' 1 The heredity of propensities, instincts, and passions in animals is very good evidence for this form of heredity in man, inasmuch as it does away with all superficial explanations drawn from edu- cation, example, habit, and all those external causes which are supposed to stand in lieu of heredity. And we may remark that this circumstance shows the value of a comparative psychology. If, now, we consider man, the first phenomena of the affections with which we meet are those of organic sensibility, or coenaes- thesis, a kind of inner sense of touch whereby we are cognizant of the state of our organs, of the tension of our muscles, and of all muscular exertion in general, of the state of weariness, of pleasure, etc. This universal consciousness of existence, this Gcmeingefiihl, is the -result of an infinite number of internal sensations proceeding from the nerves, the muscles, the circulation, the nutrition — in a word, from all those functions the sum of which constitutes what we call our manner of being. It cannot be doubted that heredity transmits these sensa- tions ; and it is probably in them that we must look for the true source of all resemblances of character. But these internal states are of so indeterminate a nature that it is almost impossible to prove their transmission. Nevertheless, we believe that the heredity of certain strange propensities, instincts, and dislikes, may 1 Variation, etc., i. 57. Heredity of the Sentiments and the Passions. 85 be referred to these unconscious modes, which underlie all con- sciousness and all thought Thus, families have been known in the members of which the smallest doses of opium produce a convulsive state. Zimmermann speaks of a family on whom coffee had a soporific effect, acting like opium, while opium itself produced no effect. Some families can hardly endure emetics, others purgative medicines, others blood-letting. Montaigne, who took an interest in the question of heredity, because he derived from his family a tendency to stone, inherited also an invincible repugnance for medicine. 'The antipathy,' he says, ' is hereditary. My father lived seventy-four years, my grandfather sixty-nine, and my great-grandfather almost eighty, and never tasted nor took any kind of physic, and for them any- thing not in common use was a drug. My ancestors, by some secret instinct and natural inclination, have ever loathed all manner of physic — the very sight of drugs was an abomination to my father. The Seigneur de Gerviac, my paternal uncle, who was an ecclesiastic, and sickly from birth, and who, notwith- standing, made his weak life to hold out to the age of sixty-seven, falling once into a high protracted fever, the physicians had word sent to him that he must surely die if he would not take some remedy. The good soul, affrighted as he was at this horrible sentence, said, ' Then it is all over with me.' But God soon after made their prognostications to prove vain. Possibly I have re- ceived from them my natural antipathy to physic.' l When, from the organic sensations diffused over the whole body, we pass to the wants and inclinations which have their seat in a special organ, it is easy to give indisputable instances of passions hereditarily transmitted. This we propose to show with regard to the three chief physical wants, viz. thirst, hunger, and the sexual appetite. The passion known as dipsomania, or alcoholism, is so frequently transmitted that all are agreed in considering its heredity as the rule. Not, however, that the passion for drink is always trans- mitted in that identical form, for it often degenerates into mania, 1 Montaigne, Essavs, ii. 37. 86 Heredity. • idiocy, and hallucination. Conversely, insanity in the parents may become alcoholism in the descendants. This continual metamor- phosis plainly shows how near passion comes to insanity, how closely the successive generations are connected, and, consequently, what a weight of responsibility rests on each individual. 'A frequent effect of alcoholism,' says Dr. Magnus Huss, ' is partial or total atrophy of the brain : the organ is reduced in volume, so that it no longer fills the bony case. The consequence is a mental degeneration, which in the progeny results in lunatics and idiots.' Gall speaks of a Russian family in which the father and grand- father had died prematurely, the victims of this taste for strong drink. The grandson, at the age of five, manifested the same liking in the highest degree. Girou de Buzareingues knew several families in which the taste for drink was transmitted by the mother. In our own times, Magnus Huss and Dr. Morel have collected so many facts bearing on the heredity of alcoholism, we need only select a few instances : — A man belonging to the educated class, and charged with important functions, succeeded for a long time in concealing his alcoholic habits from the eyes of the public ; his family were the only sufferers by it He had five children, only one of whom lived to maturity. Instincts of cruelty were manifested in this child, and from an early age its sole delight was to torture animals in every conceivable way. He was sent to school, but could not learn. In the proportions of the head he presented the characters ot microcephalism, and in the field of intellectual acquisition he could only reach a certain low stage, beyond which further progress was impossible. At the age of nineteen he had to be sent to an asylum for the insane. Charles X , son of an eccentric and intemperate father, mani- fested instincts of great cruelty from infancy. He was sent at an early age to various schools, but was expelled from them all. Being forced to enlist in the army, he sold his uniform for drink, and only escaped a sentence of death on the testimony of physicians, who declared that he was the victim of an irresistible appetite. He was placed under restraint, and died of general paralysis. A man of an excellent family of labouring people was early Heredity of the Sentiments and the Passions. 8 7 addicted to drink, and died of chronic alcoholism, leaving seven children. The first two of these died at an early age, of convul- sions. The third became insane at twenty-two, and died an idiot The fourth, after various attempts at suicide, fell into the lowest grade of idiocy. The fifth, of passionate and misanthropic temper, broke off all relations with his family. His sister suffers from nervous disorder, which chiefly takes the form of hysteria, with intermittent attacks of insanity. The seventh, a very intelligent workman, but of nervous temperament, freely gives expression to the gloomiest forebodings as to his intellectual future. Dr. Morel gives the history of a family living in the Vosges, in which the great-grandfather was a drunkard, and died from the effects of intoxication ; and the grandfather, subject to the same passion, died a maniac. He had a son far more sober than him- self, but subject to hypochondria, and of homicidal tendencies; the son of this latter was stupid, idiotic. Here we see in the first generation, alcoholic excess; in the second, hereditary dipsomania; in the third, hypochondria ; and in the fourth, idiocy, and probable extinction of the race. TreTat, in his work, Folie Lucide, states that a lady of regular life and economical habits was subject to fits of uncontrollable dipso- mania. Loathing her state, she called herself a miserable drunkard ; and mixed the most disgusting substances with her wine — but all in vain, the passion was stronger than her wilL The mother and the uncle of this lady had also been subject to dipsomania. Quite recently, Dr. Morel had again an opportunity of proving the hereditary effects of alcoholism, in the ' children of the Com- mune.' He inquired into the mental state of 150 children, ranging from ten to seventeen years of age, most of whom had been taken with arms in their hands behind the barricades. ' This examina- tion,' he says, ' has confirmed me in my previous convictions as to the baneful effects produced by alcohol, not only in the individuals who use this detestable drink to excess, but also in their descend- ants. On their depraved physiognomy is impressed the threefold stamp of physical, intellectual, and moral degeneracy.' * 1 For all the facts here cited, see Morel, Traiti des Dcgentrescentes, p. 103 ; Dr. Despine, Psychologie Naturelle, tome ii. 525 — 528 ; tome iii. 141 ; see also Lucas, i. 476, seq., and ii. 776. 5 3 88 Heredity. As regards those passions which have their origin in the desire of eating, it is impossible to cite facts to prove their heredity so remarkably. Gluttony and voracity seldom lead to such deplor- able results as alcoholism. It is not, however, difficult to find families in which voracity is inherited. This has been observed in the Bourbons. Saint-Simon informs us that Louis XIV. was a man of extraordinary greediness, and the same was the case with his brother. Nearly all this king's sons were gourmands and great eaters, and this passion has been transmitted to their descendants. A more curious case, and one comparable to alcoholism, owing to its morbid character, is the fact of cannibalism which we have elsewhere cited, on the authority of Gall, Lordat, and Prosper Lucas. These authors tell of a Scotch family possessed of an instinctive propensity to cannibalism, which persisted through several generations : sundry members of this family paid the penalty of this with their lives, and others had to be placed under surveillance.1 It is probable that the children of cannibals, brought up in Europe, would exhibit the like tendencies in the midst of our civilization. Although no facts of this kind are recorded, it must be admitted that the incurable love of a wandering life manifested by these civilized savages, and their inability to adapt themselves to our usages — instances of which will elsewhere be given2 — some- what justify these presumptions. Earth-eating, which A. von Humboldt met with in all tropical countries, presents a curious instance of morbid heredity. ' The people,' says this naturalist, ' have an odd and almost irresistible liking for a kind of greasy potter's clay with a strong, unpleasant smell. The children have often to be locked up to prevent them from running out after recent rain and eating clay.' He states that the women who are engaged in the potteries on the Rio Magdalena swallow great lumps of clay. At the mission of San Barjo, he saw an Indian child who, according to the statement of its mother, would hardly eat anything but earth ; the child, in con- sequence, looked like a skeleton. The negroes of Guinea have the same propensity ; they swallow a yellowish kind of earth which , i. 391, 497. * See Part Fourth, ch. H. Heredity of the Sentiments and the Passions. 89 they call caouac, and when transported as slaves to America they try to procure a similar clay. There is scarce need to insist on the heredity of all that is connected with the sexual appetite. This passion is associated with an organ which depends on the law of heredity. A multitude of names famous in history offer themselves in support of our position. Augustus and the two Julias; Agrippina and Nero; Maroziaand Benedict IX. ; Alexander VI. and his children; Louise de Savoie and Francis I., etc. In all classes of society analogous facts may be found, and any one may know families in which this unfortunate disposition is hereditary. 1 1 knew,' says Prosper Lucas, ' a very handsome man, of an excellent constitution, but possessed of an unbridled passion for wine and women. He had a son, who, while yet but a lad, carried both these vices to excess. He carried off a mistress from his father, who never forgave the offence to the day of his death. This was the outset of his career ; he was afterwards ruined, and reduced to the utmost penury by harlots. His son died young, but incorrigible, and from the same vices as his father and grandfather.' ' But here,' says the same author, ' is a fact perhaps still more instructive. A man-cook, of great talent in his calling, has had all his life, and has still, at the age of sixty years, a passion for women. To this passion he adds unnatural crime. One of his natural sons, living apart from him, does not know even his father, and, though not yet quite nineteen, has from childhood given all the signs of extreme lust, and, strange to say, he, like his father, is equally addicted to either sex.' l There are also well-authenticated instances of a heredity of a propensity for rape. The Droit (newspaper) states that in 1846, at Pontoise, a father, named Alexandre de M , was so unfortunate as to have his eldest son, barely sixteen years of age, violate and murder his cousin; and recently his second son attempted to violate a little girl. The punishment of these youths was mitigated, because it was proved at the trial that they were under the in- fluence of hereditary insanity.2 1 P. T.ucns, i. 479. 8 Ibid. i. 504. 9O Heredity. in. If from propensities which, in their origin at least, are purely physical, we pass to the consideration of more complex passions, independent, or rather seemingly so, of the organism — for example, gambling, avarice, theft, and murder — we shall find these also subject to the law of heredity. The passion for play often attains such a pitch of madness as to be a form of insanity, and, like it, transmissible. 'A lady of my acquaintance,' says Da Gama Machado, 'and who possessed a large fortune, had a passion for gambling, and passed whole nights at play. She died young, of pulmonary disease. Her eldest son, who was very like his mother, had the same passion for play. He, too, like his mother, died of consumption, and at about the same age. His daughter, who resembled him, inherited the same taste, and died young.' l Avarice produces the same consequences. 'In several instances,' says Maudsley,2 in his Physiology and Pathology of the Mind, ' in which the father has toiled upwards from poverty to vast wealth, with the aim and hope of founding a family, I have witnessed the results in a mental and physical and mental degeneracy, which has sometimes gone as far as the extinction of the family in the third or fourth generation. When the evil is not so extreme as madness or ruinous vice, the savour of a mother's influence having been present, it may still be manifest in an instinctive cunning and duplicity, and an extreme selfishness of nature — a nature not having the capacity of a true moral conception or altruistic feeling. Whatever opinion other experimental observers may hold, I cannot but think that the extreme passion for getting rich, absorbing the whole energies of a life, does predispose to mental degeneration in the offspring, — either to moral defect, or to intellectual and moral deficiency, or to outbreaks of positive insanity under the conditions of life.' The heredity of the tendency to thieving is so generally admitted that it would be superfluous to bring together here facts which abound in every record of judicial proceedings. One, but that decisive, may be cited from Dr. Despine's Psychologic Naturdlc, the genealogy of the Chretien family. 1 Da Gama Machado, p. 142. * Maudsley, p. 234. Heredity of the Sentiments and the Passions. 9 1 Jean Chretien, the common ancestor, had three sons — Pierre, Thomas, and Jean-Baptiste. i. Pierre had a son, Jean-Francois, who was condemned for life to hard labour for robbery and murder. 2. Thomas had two sons : (i) Frangois, condemned to hard labour (travaux fords) for murder, and (2) Martin, condemned to death for murder. Martin's son died in Cayenne, whither he had been transported for robbery. 3. Jean-Baptiste had a son, Jean-Frangois, whose wife was Marie Taure (belong- ing to a family of incendiaries). This Jean-Frangois had seven children : (i) Jean-Francois, found guilty of several robberies, died in prison ; (2) Benoist, fell off a roof which he had scaled, and was killed ; (3) X , nicknamed Clain, found guilty of several robberies, died at the age of twenty-five ; (4) Marie Reine, died in prison, whither she had been sent for theft; (5) Marie-Rose, same fate, same deeds ; (6) Victor, now in jail for theft ; (7) Victorine, married one Lemaire : their son was con- demned to death for murder and robbery.1 We have given this instance because it cuts short all explan- ations drawn from the influence of education and example. Doubtless it is difficult in many cases to determine what is due to education, and what to nature ; and the children of thieves are not very likely to be trained to honesty by their parents ; but still nature is always the stronger agency. Sundry authors, and among them Gall, have given instances of a disposition to thieving, where any parental influence was impossible. He gives one instance still more curious — that of two conflicting heredities : one good, from the mother, and one bad, from the father. In 1845, tne Cour d'Assiscs of La Seine condemned to severe and degrading penalties three out of the five members of a family of thieves. The father of this family had not found in his children the dispositions he desired. He had been compelled to use com- pulsion with his -wife and his two eldest children, but they, to the last, refused to obey him. His eldest daughter, on the other hand, trod instinctively in her father's steps, and was passionate and 1 Despine, tome ii. p. 410. Several facts of a like kind may be found in this work. Observe the tendency of such families to unite, thus conferring the hereditary transmission. See also Lucas, i. p. 480, seq. 92 Heredity. violent like him. She took after her father, the rest of the children after their mother. We may apply to the instinct for murder what we have just said of thieving. Instances of hereditary transmission are equally conclusive and equally numerous. We have already seen the heredity of homicide added, in a portion of a family, to the heredity of theft ; and it is needless to cite cases that may be found in abundance on all sides.1 Here, however, are two instances, in which the circumstances of the crime remove all doubt as to its hereditary transmission. In the Annales Medico-Psychologiques for 1853 we read that two girls, Adele and Lucie H , aged thirteen and seventeen, were bound apprentices at Paris. Adele was of remarkably gentle manners, and industrious ; but Lucie was of an unsociable dis- position, and disagreeable to her mistress and her companions. Enraged at her state of isolation, she endeavoured by threats and caresses to persuade her sister to murder their mistress. As Adele refused, Lucie passed a stay-lace round her neck, intending to strangle her. Adele cried out, and the mistress came to the spot Lucie, disappointed in her hope of an accomplice, resolved to take her vengeance herself. She collected bits of glass and ground them to a powder; this she mixed with her mistress's dinner. The latter for several days suffered internal pain, the cause of which was unknown, until she discovered the pounded glass in Lucie's hands. The girl was arrested, but on her trial it was proved that her grandfather had, during his life, made many attempts at murder, and at last strangled his wife. His children never showed the least symptoms of homicidal mania ; it reappeared, as we have seen, in the second generation. In all cases where hereditary transmission takes the form of atavism, it is clear that the influence of education has no weight The same may be said of all precocious homicidal acts, and of those committed out of frivolous motives, like the following : — A boy of fourteen, one of a family in bad repute, went, armed with his bow, to a neighbouring village feast He met on the way a little girl of six, who had in her hand thirty sous to buy bread, 1 See Lucas, i. 504, 520; Despine, ii. 281, 283; Mireau, Psychologie MorbitU, Heredity of the Sentiments and the Passions. 93 knocked her down, strangled her, threw her body into a field at a distance from the road, took the thirty sous, and went on to the village feast to spend the money and enjoy himself. The innate, incurable taste for a vagabond life shown so strikingly in inferior races, and in the gypsies, is also unquestion- ably a consequence of heredity. These facts will be considered from the social standpoint in the fourth part of this work. The conclusion, perhaps unexpected, to which we are led by all the foregoing arguments, is this — that insanity very much resembles passion ; and this statement is to be taken in the strict sense of the words. The common opinion readily enough admits that both obscure the intellect and paralyze the will, but is loth to admit that a violent passion is, in its generating causes, identical with insanity. When, however, we read judicial records, and especially medical annals, in search of facts to show the heredity of homicide, theft, or alcoholism, then, side by side, with the some- what homogeneous facts wherein we see the passions of ancestors transmitted in identical form to descendants, we find other hetero- geneous facts, in which what is passion in the former becomes insanity in the latter, and vice versa. Such facts are very numerous. We have not cited any of these, though they are excellent instances of heredity. As we restrict ourselves to facts that are absolutely incontestable, we have put aside from con- sideration the whole question of heredity by metamorphosis, We do not maintain that every violent passion or every crime is only a variety of insanity, but only that in many cases the conditions which produce both are identical. ' Nothing in Nature is limited and isolated : all things are connected together by intermediate links, which attentive observation sooner or later discovers, where, at first glance, they were not even suspected. It were to be wished, in the interest of science, that inquiries should be made as to the progenitors of criminals for at least two or three generations. This would be an excellent means of demonstrating the kinship which exists between those cerebral infirmities which produce the psychic anomalies leading to crime, and the patho- logical affections of the nerve centres, particularly the brain. The fact, demonstrated by Drs. Ferrus and Lelut, that insanity is much more frequent among criminals than other persons, goes far to 94 Heredity. prove that crime and insanity are closely connected.'1 The number of criminals whose ancestors have given signs of insanity is very great Verger, the assassin of the Archbishop of Paris, was of this number. His mother and one of his brothers perished, prior to his crime, the victims of suicidal mania. Dr. Bruce Thompson, in his recent work on The Hereditary Nature of Crime, adopts this conclusion, and supports it by figures. Of 5,432 prisoners, he found 673 whose mental state appeared to him to be unsound, though, according to the general opinion, they were not subjects for a lunatic asylum. Out of 904 convicts in prison at Perth, 440 were recommitted, thus showing the fatal power of the passions. In a house of detention there were 109 prisoners belonging to only 50 families ; among them were eight members of one family, and several families were represented by two or three members. It is beyond our purpose to inquire to what extent passion shares in the fatal character of insanity, or to ascertain the practical consequences of this. The argument simply shows that (i) passions which are inexplicable, so long as they are studied in the isolated individual, find their explanation so soon as we have studied them in their metamorphoses through generations, and brought them under the great law of heredity ; (2) that passion is so near insanity that the two forms of heredity are really one : so that the preceding section is, as it were, a chapter, detached and in advance, on morbid heredity. CHAPTER VII. HEREDITY OF THE WILL. L THE title given to this chapter is hardly exact, and is only selected for want of a better. Yet it seems to us that in the statesmen and great soldiers of whom we are about to speak, the will must be regarded as the dominant faculty. They must, no 1 Despine, Psychologic Naturelle, ii. 983. ^Heredity of the Will. 95 doubt, furthermore, possess a broad and penetrating intellect, passion to rouse men and enforce obedience ; but their distin- guishing characteristic is action, and that strong, bold nature which commands. It is only through the will one man gains an irresistible influence over others. A lofty intellect excites admira- tion, but it is only a strong will that demands obedience. The word ' will ' is here used, of course, in its ordinary sense, and as commonly employed. We lay aside for the moment all those philosophical discussions about free-will and its relations to heredity,1 and here consider the will only as the active faculty, without inquiring whether th Ibid. i. 41. 1 20 Heredity. If we restrict ourselves to payable, visible, demonstrated, and accepted facts, we meet with two sorts of cases : those in which disorders of the intellect have corresponding to them evident changes of the tissue of the nerve-centres, and those in which the brain presents no appreciable degeneration. Taking their stand on facts of the second of these categories, some writers on insanity, of whom the most celebrated is Leuret, have held that insanity may proceed from purely psychological causes. * Physiology,' says he, ' pathology, acquaintance with the facts and the laws of thought and of passion, clinical and micro- scopic observations, therapeutical experiments — all concur to negative the absolute proposition that insanity always and necessarily has its rise in an affection of the organs. While everything contributes to bestow the character of evidence upon the following definition of insanity : ' Insanity consists in the aberration of the understanding . . . and the causes that produce it mostly belong to an order of phenomena that have nothing to do with the laws of matter.' Notwithstanding these categorical affirmations, Leuret's view finds daily fewer adherents. The reason of this is, that it really rests only on our ignorance and impotence. It simply affirms that in many cases there exists no physical cause, since we discern none. But beyond the limits that cannot be passed by the microscope, there exist phenomena which, though inappreciable to our senses, are nevertheless material. Electricity, magnetism, and all the various physical and chemical agencies, produce in our inmost organs molecular changes which elude our methods of investigation, but of which the consequences may be fatal. Moreover, the idea of a mental disease independent of all organic cause is a theory so unintel- ligible that the Spiritualists themselves have rejected it, and it is now generally admitted that the cause of madness is always to be found in a diseased state of the organs : insanity, like other \ maladies, is a disease physical in its cause, though mental as regards most of its symptoms.1 1 See Lemoine, L' Alien/, p. 105—137. The hypothesis of purely psycho- logical causes of insanity led Heinroth to pen the following absurdities which are worth quoting : — • Insanity is the loss of moral freedom ; it never depends on a physical cause ; Morbid Psychological Heredity. 121 Since the direct cause of insanity is some morbid affection of the nervous system, and as every part of the organism is trans- missible, clearly the heredity of mental affections is the rule. It makes little difference whether we regard thought as simply a function of the nervous system, or the nervous system as a simple condition of thought Our experimental psychology, which deals only with facts, remands to metaphysics all researches into first causes. The metamorphoses of heredity are still more perplex- ing. Nervous disorders are often transformed in their transmission. Convulsions in the progenitors may change to hysteria or to epilepsy in the descendants. A case is cited where hyperaesthesia in the father branched out in the grandchildren into the various forms of monomania, mania, hypochondria, hysteria, epilepsy, convulsions, spasms. Facts of this kind are very numerous. To confine ourselves to psychological metamorphoses, nothing is more frequent than to see simple insanity become suicidal mania, or suicidal mania become simple insanity, alcoholism, or hypo- chondria. ' A goldsmith, who had been cured of a first attack of insanity, caused by the revolution of 1789, took poison ; later, his eldest daughter was seized with an attack of mania, passing into dementia. One of her brothers stabbed himself in the stomach with a knife. A second brother gave himself up to drunkenness, and ended his career by dying in the streets. A third, owing to domestic annoyances, refused all food, and died of anaemia. Another daughter, a woman of most capricious temper, married, and had a son and daughter: the former died insane and epileptic; the latter lost her mind during her lying in, became hypochondriac, and wished to starve herself to death. Two children of this same woman died of brain fever, and a third would never take the breast' 1 This is one of the most instructive cases we have. it is not a disease of the body, but a disease of the mind, a sin. It neither is, nor can be hereditary, because the thinking ego, the soul, is not hereditary. What is transmissible by way of generation is temperament and constitution, and against these he must react whose parents were insane, if he would not himself become lunatic. The man who, during his whole life, has before his eyes and in his heart the image of God, need never fear that he will lose his wits,' etc. 1 Piorry, De THiridM dans la Maladies, p. 169. See also Mauds'.ey, Pathology of Mind, 244 — 256. 122 Heredity. There are others of a more obscure nature, which give us a glimpse of the curious relations between talent and insanity. Long before Moreau of Tours' celebrated thesis in regard to genius, Gintrac had noticed the following fact : a father touched with insanity had able sons, who filled public situations with dis- tinction. Their children appeared at first sensible, but at the age of twenty became insane. In twenty-two cases of hereditary in- sanity, Aubanel and Thore have noticed two facts of this kind. Deferring, for a while, the difficult question of the metamorphoses of heredity, we here give only similar, and, consequently, the most indisputable, cases, and they also are the most frequent There are families the members of which, with few exceptions, are all subject to the same kind of insanity. Three relations were placed at the same time in a lunatic asylum at Philadelphia. In a Con- necticut asylum there was once a lunatic the eleventh in his family. Lucas mentions a lady who was the eighth. More curious still, this infirmity often appears at the same period of life in suc- cessive generations. All the scions of a noble family at Hamburg, distinguished through four generations for great military talents, went mad at the age of forty : there remained but one member, a soldier like his father, and he was, by decree of the senate, forbidden to marry ; the critical period came, and he also went mad. (Lucas.) A Swiss merchant saw two of his children die insane both at the age of nineteen. A lady went mad at the age of twenty-five after childbirth; her daughter became insane at the same age, also after childbirth. In one family the father, son, and grandson committed suicide at about the age of fifty. (Esquirol.) II. We now proceed to show from examples that the chief varieties of mental malady are transmissible. In the absence of any universally accepted classification, we group our facts under the following heads : Hallucination, Monomania, Suicide, Mania, Dementia, Idiocy. Hallucination assumes two principal forms. Sometimes it results from the automatic action of the nerve-centres, and is compatible with perfect reason; hallucination in this case does not imply error of judgment: it is recognized as an illusion, nor is the subject Morbid Psychological Heredity. 123 of the hallucination at all deceived. In the other case, the hallucina- tion is complete, and then the patient believes in the objective reality of his imaginary perceptions, and acts accordingly. Under this form, hallucination is one of the first symptoms of insanity. It is hereditary in both shapes. * We cannot establish by statistics,' says the author of one of the best treatises on this subject, ' the power of heredity on hallucina- tions, because they almost always exist with insanity. In order to thoroughly appreciate this influence, it should be studied in indi- viduals who have only simple hallucinations, and in those mono- maniacs, subject to hallucination, who have a very decided form of insanity. It is undeniable that they often occur in the sons of those who have presented this double condition. 'The father of Jerome Cardan used to see apparitions ; so also did his son. Catherine de Medicis had an hallucination, as Pierre de 1'Estoile relates ; and her son, Charles IX., had one the very night of the massacre of Saint Bartholomew.' -1 Abercrombie cites a case of hereditary hallucination where the reason remained intact ' I know a man,' says he, ' who all his life has been subject to hallucination. This disposition is of such a nature that if he meets a friend in the street, he cannot tell at once whether it is an actual person or a phantasm. By dint of attention he can make out a difference between the two. Usually he connects the visual impressions by touch, or by listening for the footfalls. This man is in the flower of his age, of sound mind, in good health, and engaged in business. Another member of his family has had the same affection, though in a less degree.' Here is a case no less curious. A young man of eighteen, neither enthusiastic, nor superstitious, nor fanciful, lived at Rams- gate. Happening one evening to enter a village church, he was terror-stricken at seeing the ghost of his mother, who had died some months before. Having witnessed this same apparition many times, he fell sick, and returned to Paris, where his father lived. He did not venture to speak to him of this apparition. Being obliged to sleep in the same room as his father, he was surprised on seeing that, contrary to his former habit, the lattet 1 Brierre de Boismont, Des Hallucinations, p. 431. 1 24 Heredity. always kept a light burning through the night As this trouble- some light prevented the son from sleeping, he put it out one night, but his father, much agitated, bade him light it again. At length the young man went to visit a younger brother, who was at school in a small town some fifty miles from Paris. The schoolmaster's son said to him, almost at once : ' Has your brother ever given any signs of insanity ? Last night he came downstairs in his shirt, quite beside himself, declaring that he had seen his mother's ghost.'1 This fact can only be explained by supposing that the sons derived from their father a tendency to hallucination under the influence of their deep regret for their loss. A man in the Lyons hospital was subject simultaneously to hallucinations of taste and smell ; tormented by disgusting odours and tastes, he spent whole hours in blowing his nose and spitting. His father had died in the same hospital from the effects of mania with hallucination. We might also cite the famous Seeress of Prevorst, Frederika Hauffe, whose life, together with a collection of her visions, was edited by Kerner. This faculty of ' talking with the spirits ' was shared by most of the members of the Hauffe family. Her brother, in particular, possessed this gift, but in a lower degree, and without the complication of the phenomena of ecstasy and cata- lepsy which characterized the seeress.2 in. Among the morbid psychological affections to which Esquirol gave the name of monomania, there is none the heredity of which is better proved than that of suicide. Voltaire was among the first to call the attention of physicians to this subject. ' I have with my own eyes,' he writes, ' seen a suicide that is worthy of the attention of physicians. A thoughtful professional man, of mature age, of regular habits, having no strong passions, and beyond the reach of want, committed suicide on the iyth ol October, 1769, leaving behind him, addressed to the council of his 1 Brierre de Boismont, Des Hallucinations, p. 57. * Lucas, ii. 769. Morbid Psychological Heredity. 125 native city, an apology for his voluntary death, which it was not thought advisable to publish, lest men should be encouraged to quit a life whereof so much evil is spoken. So far there is nothing extraordinary, since instances of this kind are everywhere to be found ; but here is the astonishing feature of the case : — ' His father and his brother had committed suicide at the same age as himself. What hidden disposition of mind, what sympathy, what concurrence of physical laws, caused this father and his two sons to perish by their own hand and by the same form of death, just when they have attained the same year of their age ? ' x Since Voltaire's day, the history of mental disease has registered a great number of similar facts. They abound in Gall, Esquirol, Moreau of Tours, and in all the writers on insanity. Esquirol knew a family in which the grandmother, mother, daughter, and grandson committed suicide. 'A father of taciturn disposition,' says Falret, ' had five sons. The eldest, at the age of forty, threw himself out of a third story window; the second strangled himself at the age of thirty-five ; the third threw himself out of a window ; the fourth shot himself; a cousin of theirs drowned himself for a trifling cause. In the Oroten family, the oldest in Teneriffe, two sisters were affected with suicidal mania, and their brother, grand- father, and two uncles put an end to their own lives.2 One of the most singular combinations of related suicides on record is this . ' D , son and nephew of suicides, married a woman who was daughter and niece to suicides. He hanged himself, and his wife married a second husband who was son, nephew, and first-cousin of suicides.' The point which excited Voltaire's surprise, viz. the heredity of suicide at a definite age, has been often noticed. ' M. L , a monomaniac,' says Moreau of Tours, ' put an end to his life at the age of thirty. His son had hardly attained the same age when he was attacked with the same monomania, and made two attempts at suicide. Another man, in the prime of life, fell into a melan- choly state and drowned himself; his son, of good constitution, 1 Voltaire, Dutionnaire Philosophique, Art. 'Caton.' 1 Annales Medico- Psychologiqws, 1844. Several other facts will be found in Lucas, ii. 780, and in Moreau, Psychologie Morbide, 171 — 174. 126 Heredity. wealthy, and father of two gifted children, drowned himself at the same age. A wine-taster who had made a mistake as to the quality of a wine, threw himself into the water in a fit of desperation. He was rescued, but afterwards accomplished his purpose. The physician who had attended him ascertained that this man's father and one of his brothers had committed suicide at the same age and in the same way.' This identity of the manner of suicide is another point worthy of notice, as tending to show the automatic character of the heredity. We have given several cases in point, and the data with regard to this matter show that the same manner of death is often traditional in a family : some drown, others hang, or strangle them- selves, others throw themselves out of window. With suicidal may be ranked homicidal monomania, of which we have already spoken under the head of passions, and which is also hereditary. We need here give only one instance of this form of morbid heredity, but it is one that by itself is more convincing than a host of others. We take it from the Annales de Hencke, 1821. A woman named Olhaven fell ill of a serious disorder, which obliged her to wean her daughter, six weeks old. This complaint of the mother began by an irresistible desire to kill her child. This purpose was discovered in season to prevent it. She was next seized with a violent fever, which utterly blotted the fact from her memory, and she afterwards proved a most devoted mother to her daughter. This daughter, become a mother in her turn, took two children to nurse. For some days she had suffered from fatigue and from ' movements in the stomach,' when one evening as she was in her room with the infants, one of them on her lap, she was suddenly seized by a strong desire to cut its throat Alarmed by this horrible temptation, she ran from the spot with the knife in her hand, and sought in singing, dancing, and sleep, a refuge from the thoughts that haunted her. Hardly had she fallen asleep, when she started up, her mind filled with the same idea, which now was irresistible. She was, however, controlled, and in a measure calmed. The homicidal delirium recurred, and finally gave way, only after many remedies had been employed. Morbid Psychological Heredity. 127 A form of monomania which has now disappeared, but which was in a highly flourishing state three hundred years ago, is the monomania of possession, or dsemonomania. In our day, the narratives of demoniacal possession read like dreams ; but in the times when they had a place outside of the world of fiction, when they were a cruel and absurd reality, and when possession was a crime having its tribunals, its code of procedure, and its punish- ments, this mental affection, then qualified as supernatural, was transmitted by heredity. Writers on possession are unanimously of opinion that from generation to generation the members of a family were bound to the devil, or were sorcerers. Two high authorities on the question — Bodin, in his Dhnonologie, and Sprenger, in his Malleus Maleficorum — lay down this principle as a rule that has no exception. Bodin says : ' When the father or mother is a sorcerer, the sons and daughters are sorcerers.' Sprenger says that the accused must always be carefully questioned, ' si ex con- sanguinitate sua aliqui, propter maleficta, fuissent dudum incinerati, •vel ^suspecti habitij for witchcraft commonly infects the whole race. The accused were themselves the first to admit this. In our times, persons who think themselves possessed are merely sent to a lunatic asylum, and sometimes several members of one family will be found there affected with this form of mono- mania. A mother and her daughter believed themselves to be under the special protection of spirits, which they called Airs. A lady of B believed herself to be a fantastic being whom she called Solomon, and who was, for her, the Genius of Evil, and the author of all her torments. Her father attributed to a sylph named Stratageme everything that happened to him.1 With daemonomania may be classed the epidemic choreae of the middle ages, which, according to mediaeval authors, were hereditary in some families. So, too, with the convulsionaries of the seventeenth century : during the epidemic of ecstasy mingled with convulsions, which broke out among the Protestants of the Cevennes, children of four or five years, and even of eighteen months, were affected with the prevailing disorder. Sympathy 1 Morcau, Psychologie Morbide, 171. 128 Heredity. and nervous contagion certainly contributed to produce this phenomenon, but there is no doubt that it is to be in a great measure referred to heredity. Another mental affection, known as melancholia and lypemania, by some authors identified with hypochondria, but by others held to be a distinct complaint, though it much resembles it in its psychological effects, while differing in its organic causes, is also hereditary. 'Lypemania,' says Esquirol, 'is most commonly hereditary; lypemaniacs are born with a particular temperament, the melancholic, and this predisposes them to lypemania.' Cases are on record of families, all of whose members are tormented with the fixed idea that people want to murder them or poison them. A woman affected with lypemania was sent, at the age of forty-two, to an asylum, and there died. It was dis- covered that her grandfather and her mother had been insane; and her son, barely fifteen years of age, already gave signs of lypemania.1 In 482 cases of this disorder, Esquirol found no to be hereditary. With this form of morbid heredity we may couple the heredity of presentiments. The following curious case is taken from Brierre de Boismont. If we accept the anecdote as true, we must, says Dr. Delasiauve, recognize the principal cause of the phenomena in the heredity of a nervous affection. ' Marshal de Soubise related, in presence of Louis XIV., that as he was one day conversing in his cabinet with an English lady, he all at once heard the lady utter a shriek, and saw her rise to go away and fall unconscious at his feet ; this without any external cause. Filled with surprise and concern, the Duke de Soubise rang the bell. The servants ran in and attended on the fainting lady, who soon came to herself. " Do not detain me," she said to the Marshal, excitedly ; " I shall scarcely have time to put my affairs in order before I die." ' She then told M. de Soubise that both sides of her family had the gift of divination : every member of it had been able to name the very hour of their deaths a month beforehand. She added 1 Gazette des HSpitaux, 19 October, 1844. See also Moreau, 192 ; Maudsley, 376. Morbid Psychological Heredity. that, in the midst of the conversation she had held with M. de Soubise, her own double had appeared to her in the mirror before her. She saw herself wrapped in a shroud, over which was a black cloth sprinkled with white tears : at her feet was an open coffin. ' A month after this occurrence, M. de Soubise received a letter informing him that this mysterious premonition had been proved true by the event' l It is natural to suppose that these sudden visions are due to a certain mental constitution hereditarily transmitted : imagination does the rest, and on the appointed day brings about the catas- trophe, which is thus an effect, not a cause. IV. Mania consists in a total derangement of the intellectual and affective faculties. ' The maniac,' says Esquirol, ' only lives in a chaos. His wild and menacing purposes show the disordered state of his mind ; his actions are mischievous ; he would injure or destroy everything ; he is at war with every one. To this pitiable state, if the patient does not recover, succeeds a calm that is a thousand times more painful to behold : the maniac becomes demented ; he drags out stupidly the remnant of material life, without thought, without desires, without regrets, sinking gradually into death.' ' Chronic mania,' adds the same author, 'is a chronic affection of the brain, ordinarily unattended by fever, and charac- terized by perturbation and exaltation of sensibility, intellect, and will. Maniacs are noted for their illusions and hallucinations, and for their faulty associations of ideas, which spring up with extreme vivacity, and without any coherence.' The heredity of this mental affection is very frequent : according to figures collated by Esquirol, about fifty per cent of the cases are hereditary. At the Salpetriere, in 220 cases he found 88 hereditary ; and in his own establishment 75 out of 152 cases were hereditary. The mental diseases that remain to be considered represent the extreme forms of intellectual decay, viz. dementia, general paralysis, and idiocy. 1 Bricrre de Boismont, Des Hallucinaticns, p. 536. 1 30 Heredity. Dementia and general paralysis are the usual, or, at least, the possible termination of all kinds of insanity. Hence their hereditary transmission does not properly constitute a particular case to be considered separately. Sometimes the dementia of progenitors is reproduced in the same form and at about the same age in the descendants. Esquirol saw it appear at the age of twenty-five in a young sculptor, whose family was subject to this disease. At other times the simple insanity of parents is meta- morphosed, and becomes dementia or general paralysis in the children. Thus individuals have been seen, born of parents affected with mental diseases, to reach the age of forty or fifty without appreciable signs of mental disease, and then fall into dementia without any apparent cause, and even contrary to all expectations. In idiots and imbeciles the mental activity has suffered such an arrest of development that some of them adopt the habits of the mere animal. This disease is incurable, since to cure it we should have to create a new brain. As Esquirol ingeniously remarks, the demented subject is a rich man that has become poor; the idiot, a pauper who can never attain to wealth. As the sexual appetite is mostly very keen in idiots, the conse- quence being an unhappy fertility, it is easy to show the heredity of idiocy. Cases of the direct heredity are numerous. Thus, Esquirol saw at the Salpetriere an idiot woman, the mother of two daughters and a son, all of them idiots.1 But idiocy appears to be transmitted rather in the collateral form ; or if in the direct line, then it disappears for a generation or two. Haller was the first to note this in the case of two noble families in which idiocy had appeared one hundred years before, and it was found to reappear in the fourth or fifth generation. In our own time, Dr. Sdguin, who is a good authority on the question, remarks : ' I have not, to my knowledge, ever had to attend an idiotic son of an idiot, or even the son of a man of weak intellect ; but I have often found in the family of one of my pupils an aunt, an uncle, or oftener a grandfather afflicted with idiocy, alienation, or, at least, imbecility.' In conclusion, we could wish that we could answer here two 1 Further facts in Lucas, ii. 787. Morbid Psychological Heredity. 131 questions that are unfortunately very obscure. The first is this : What rank must we assign to heredity among the causes of insanity ? Good statistical documents alone can afford the answer ; •but the various tables agree but little with one another. Cases of hereditary insanity are, according to Moreau of Tours, nine-tenths of the whole number; according to other writers they are only one-tenth. According to Maudsley they are more than one-fourth, but less than half: in 50 cases of insanity carefully examined by him, 16 were hereditary, or one-third. In 73 cases given by Trelat in his Folie Lucide, 43 are represented as due to heredity. From a report made to the French Government in 1861, it appears that in 1000 cases of persons of each sex admitted to asylums, 264 males and 266 females had inherited the disorder. Of the 264 males, 128 inherited from the father, no from the mother, and 26 from both. Of the 266 females, 100 inherited from the father, 130 from the mother, and 36 from both. Hence we should hardly be in error were we to say that the cases of hereditary insanity represent from one-half to one-third of the total number. The second question is this : To what form of mental heredity must hereditary insanity be referred? In the first place, as regards mere, simple hallucination, it is plain that it is only a form of heredity of the sensorial faculties. As for insanity, properly so called, since it assumes every possible shape ; since it presents, now separately, now collectively, perversion of the sentiments and instincts, loss of intellect, and weakness of will ; and since it has never been found possible so far to trace back all the psychological phenomena of insanity to one cause, we may affirm that the fore- going facts are a fresh demonstration, in extenso, of psychological heredity under all its forms. PART SECOND. THE LAWS. Quel monstre est-ce, que cette goutte de semence, de quoy nous sommcs produicts, porte en soy les impressions, non de la forme corporelle seulement, mais des pensements ct inclinations de nos peres?— Montaigne. CHAPTER I. ARE THERE LAWS OF HEREDITY? L SCIENCE begins only with the investigation of laws. All that pre- cedes has one only object, to prepare the way for this investigation. Unless we hoped that out of the mass of facts drawn from animal and human psychology, from pathology and history, some fixed and certain rule would arise, our store of materials were valueless, a mere collection of curious anecdotes, which would afford the mind nothing like true science. We believe that the facts we have cited are not to be thus lightly esteemed. It is the privilege of the experimental method — which is so often charged with creeping on the ground, with being tied down to facts, and restricted within narrow boundaries without a horizon — to reveal to us what is uni- versal, to exhibit to us laws in facts, and to demonstrate for us the seeming paradox, that in the world for the scientific mind there are no facts, but only laws. If we take any simple fact of the inorganic world — a stone, a liquescent gas, a falling drop of water — and consider these pheno- mena, as do people in general, with the eyes and not with the mind, they will be a complete reality, and whatever is not visible and tangible will be but a vain abstraction. But science analyzes these facts into laws of gravity, heat, molecular attraction, affinity, etc., secondary laws which may themselves be referred to more general laws — and, perceiving that these laws are found everywhere in the organic world, science concludes that they it is that are real. Group these laws, and we have facts ; group different kinds of laws, and we have' different kinds of facts. It follows that to know a fact thoroughly is to know the quality and the quantity of the laws which compose it, to know that a given fact is resolvable into given laws of heat, gravity, etc., and into a given amounl of heat, 7 1 36 Heredity. gravitation, etc. But in this analysis the fact has crumbled away, vanished, ceased to be, and has left in its stead nothing but a group of laws. If we take a biological fact, a flowering plant, a respiratory animal, there again we find only a sum of laws. First, there are the laws of inorganic mattei ; and, indeed, if we reduce life to pure mechanism, there are no others. But if, on the contrary, we hold that physics and chemistry fail to explain life in its entirety, we bring in other laws, those governing assimilation, disintegration, generation, and all the vital processes ; and although we have as yet no precise knowledge of these laws, we do not doubt that they exist So, too, with the moral world. A passion, a poem, a historical event, a revolution, result from the grouping of an almost infinite number of laws. For, beyond the physical and biologic laws which they presuppose, they imply also psychological, economical, and social laws. The simplest moral fact presents such a compli- cation, such a tangle of laws, themselves but ill-understood, that many men, unable to recognize them, have chosen rather to deny them. But each new advance of science discredits this solution ; and, although it is possible that beyond this general reference to law there may exist something which is not subject to it, still we may affirm that every fact, considered as such, is a grouping of laws. Let us suppose all the facts of the physical and moral universe reduced to a thousand secondary laws, and these to a dozen primitive laws, which are the final and irreducible elements of the world ; let us represent each by a thread of peculiar colour, itself formed of a collection of finer threads ; a superior force — God, Nature, Chance, it matters not what — is ever weaving, knotting and unknotting these, and transforming them into various patterns. To the ordinary mind there is nothing besides these knots and these patterns ; for it these are the only reality — beyond them it knows nothing, suspects nothing. But the man of science sets to work : h,e unties the knots, unravels the patterns, and shows that all the reality is in the threads. Then the antagonism between fact and law disappears ; facts are but a synthesis of laws, laws an analysis of facts. Are there Laws of Heredity? 137 Thus a scientific idea of the world is formed. The experimental method appeared to be imprisoned in the raw material of the fact, when all at once its range of vision is enlarged, its horizon recedes almost immeasurably, to that mysterious limit where the world of laws comes to an end ; observation attains to the universal, and experience gains the almost idealistic conclusion that facts are but appearances, laws the reality. IL We must now inquire whether, among the many threads the inter- weaving of which constitutes the facts we have cited, any one is common to this entire group. To speak more clearly, the ques- tion is whether heredity is a law of the moral world, or whether the many instances already quoted are only isolated cases resulting from the fortuitous concurrence of other laws. It may be surprising why, after what has been already said, the question is now raised. But the perfect indifference of most psychologists with regard to heredity would seem to show that they do not recognize in it a psychical law. The doctrines of those physiologists who have bestowed more attention on the subject are by no means harmonious on th'is point, and many of them have roundly denied moral heredity. It is, therefore, im- portant that the question should be studied. To speak frankly, the objections brought against psychological heredity do not appear to be very formidable; they would, indeed, be often inexplicable, did we not know the motive which has inspired them. This is the fear,' whether with or without reason, of the consequences which may result from it ; but such a prejudice is neither scientific, since it proceeds arbitrarily, nor moral, because it does not prefer truth to all else. Thus it is not possible to accept the doctrine of which Lordat is the most illustrious exponent, and which, while unreservedly subjecting to the laws of heredity the 'dynamism' (or the various modes of psychic activity) of the animal, exempts from them the ' dynamism ' of man. The author's intention is too plain.1 He 1 ' If the laws,' says he, 'are identical in the two orders (animal and human), analogy would lead u^ to suppose that the dynamism of brutes is like our own, and that man is only a nobler and better-developed animal, as Gall and hi» 1 38 Heredity. would place between man and animals a chasm which has no existence. From either the physical or the mental point of view it is impossible to make man a being, apart, to set up a 'human kingdom.' It is, no doubt, too daring to say, as some have done in our own time,1 that there is nothing in man which is not found also in the animal, whether it be language, or the faculty of count- ing (the magpie counts up to seven), or moral ideas, or the sentiment of veneration and awe, which is the basis of the religious sentiment. But setting aside these hypothetical assertions, and these exaggerations in the opposite sense, which always cha- racterize a reaction, it is certain that, in the transition from the animal to the human, the axiom of Linnaeus remains true, Natura non facit saltus. Heredity is a biological law, which itself results from another law — that of the transfer, by generation, of the attributes of physical and mental life : and the laws of generation govern everything that lives — the plant as well as the animal, or as well as man. As we shall see hereafter, there is not one part of the domain of life subject to the laws of heredity and another part exempt from them. So chimerical is Lordat's hypothesis that, even in a psychologi- cal study of heredity, we must not think of separating the animal from the man. We must take one after another all the modes of mental life, and see how they are influenced by heredity, as well under the lower, or animal form, as under the higher, or human form. This we have tried to do here, but very roughly, since this work is but an essay ; yet, in the absence of a comparative psychology which might serve as a basis and plan for our ex- position, we are compelled to grope our way. Another doctrine, maintained by Virey, holds that we must distinguish 'between the moral qualities which appertain to the body, and the moral qualities which belong to the soul : ' the former are transmissible by heredity, the latter are not And Lordat defends a similar thesis. ' In man,' he says, ' heredity followers have so persistently taught. But if these two heredities present different laws, we are justified in questioning the identity of the two dynamisms.' 1 See the Bulletins de la Soci6t6 if Anthropolo°ie, I4re serie, vol. vi., et 3^ serie, vol. i. Are there Laws of Heredity? 139 controls everything relating to vital force, but does not control the indigenous or exotic qualities of the inner sense : or, in plainer language, unconscious modes of vital activity are hereditary ; not so the conscious modes.' The objection so formulated is vague, and has but little force if closely pressed; it rests on the idea of an absolute distinction between body and mind — an idea which, if it were admissible in Descartes' day, is so no longer. But if we look less at the letter than at the spirit of the objection — less at what it says than at what it means to say — we must acknowledge that it raises a nice question, on which now we do but touch, but which will hereafter be discussed. Among the 'moral qualities' appertaining to the body are reckoned in the first rank sensations and perceptions. The organism is inherited, and with it the organs of sense and their functions. But the imagination depends in great measure on our faculty of sense, and sensations with sensorial images are the raw material of cognition. It is no longer maintained that they are sufficient to constitute it. We know that the mind adds some- what, and that the phenomena are moulded by causality, time, and space. These conditions of all thought — the subjective forms of the mind, according to Kant ; the preformations of the organism, according to the physiologists — are universal, common to all men, and consequently, without exception, hereditary. If we set aside for the moment the question of intellectual activity, and consider only the sentiments, emotions, and passions ; we may yet be justified in placing these among those 'moral qualities which appertain to the body.' It will be readily admitted that the emotions differ accordingly as the person who experiences them is of lymphatic or nervous, of bilious or sanguine tempera- ment : and these original dispositions are the source whence afterwards spring our most complex sentiments. Hence, when closely examined, this assumed difference between the 'moral qualities which appertain to the mind,' and those which ' appertain to the body,' entirely disappears. We seek it, and find it not — for it is not. Heredity has been willingly admitted in regard to certain inferior psychical conditions, and it was supposed that thus full justice was rendered to this principle ; but, logically 140 Heredity. and necessarily, it has invaded the entire field of psychology. This was but the natural consequence of a vague, loose, incon- sistent hypothesis, totally at variance with facts. Yet, as we have said, there is perhaps some ground for this distinction. This, then, is the important point, which the objection has not sufficiently declared or explained. Suppose that it has been distinctly proved that all modes of psychical activity — the senses, memory, imagination, reasoning, sentiments, instincts, passions, normal or morbid dispositions — art transmissible : is the aggregate of these modes the whole sentient and conscious being ; or is there, besides these, a nescio quid called the /, the person, the genius, the character, that inner power which in its own way elaborates all these materials of sentiment and cognition, and impresses on them its own peculiar stamp? Must it be considered that the various modes of psychical activity, by varied inter-relations, constitute in themselves the personality ; or is there something else ? Is the I a result or a cause? If we consider that like impressions are felt and trans- formed in widely different ways by different individuals, and that between genius and idiocy are found all possible shades of mental activity, one may be inclined to regard as reasonable the hypothesis of a principle of individuation, which explains these differences. And then would arise the question : Is the I, the personality, the constituent element of the individual, transmissible by heredity, as are the various modes of mental activity ? Such is, it would seem, the only true way in which to put this objection : and under this form it cannot be denied that it raises a grave difficulty. We do not, however, now discuss it : a better occasion for so doing will hereafter present itself. The part played by psychological heredity has been doubted not only by physiologists, but also by so great a philosophic historian as Buckle. It is surprising that so clear a mind, which brought to the investigation of historic phenomena a rare penetra- tion, originality of method and scientific exactitude, should have misconceived a fact of such significance. We often hear of hereditary talents, hereditary vices, and hereditary virtues; but whoever will critically examine the evi- dence will find that we have no proof of their existence. The Are there Laws of Heredity? 141 way in which they are commonly proved is in the highest degree illogical ; the usual course being for writers to collect instances of some mental peculiarity found in a parent and in his child, and then to infer that the peculiarity was bequeathed. By this mode of reasoning we might demonstrate any pro- position ; since in all large fields of inquiry there are a sufficient number of empirical coincidences to make a plausible case in favour of whatever view a man chooses to advocate. But this is not the way in which truth is discovered ; and we ought to inquire not only how many instances there are of hereditary talents, etc., but how many instances there are of such qualities not being hereditary. Until something of this sort is attempted, we can know nothing about the matter inductively ; while until physiology and chemistry are much more advanced, we can know nothing about it deductively. These considerations ought to prevent us from receiving state- ments (Taylor's Medical Jurisprudence, pp. 644, 678, and many other books) which positively affirm the existence of hereditary madness and hereditary suicide ; and the same remark applies to hereditary disease (on which see some admirable observations in Phillips on Scrofula, pp. 101—120, London, 1846) ; and with still greater force does it apply to hereditary views and hereditary virtues ; inasmuch as ethical phenomena have not been registered as carefully as physiological ones, and therefore our conclusions respecting them are even more precarious. In this objection, however preposterous it may appear, we find all the qualities of a thoroughly scientific mind — that is, one which receives evidence with caution. Yet it is difficult to see what method Buckle would have us adopt in researches of this kind. Is it the differential method, which consists in comparing the facts of heredity with the exceptions to it, in accounting for the latter, and in showing why they do not come under the law? Possibly this might be done. Or is it the statistical method, which consists in accepting the facts as they present themselves, in grouping, on the one hand, those which have an hereditary character, and on the other those which have not, and in estimating arithmetically the relations of the two groups? We shall see hereafter that this has been attempted. 142 Heredity. It must be conceded to Buckle that the question of psycho- logical heredity is by no means one that can be treated with strict scientific rigour; and there are many reasons why this is so. Oftentimes in the course of this present work we have felt the insufficiency of the argument, 'A distinguished father, a distin- guished son — therefore talent is hereditary,' whereas we ought to be able to show that to a given mode of mental activity in the progenitor corresponds precisely the same mode in the descendant, or, at least, to say why this is not so. But this is too much to require in the present state of psychology. This granted, if we revert to the essential point of Buckle's objection, we find that in his view the cases of heredity are simply fortuitous successions, such as are to be found whenever we com- pare a great mass of facts. If we take from the registers of a lottery the winning numbers through a long series of years, we should probably find that there were occasionally the same succes- sion of numbers, the result of mere chance. In this way, or nearly so, Buckle explains cases of heredity. He reduces the question to a calculation of probabilities. But this singular hypothesis had already been answered by a mathematician. Maupertuis, after citing a case of sexdigitism which persisted through four generations, adds : ' I presume no one would regard sexdigitism as the effect of mere chance. But suppose we so regard it, let us then see what is the probability that this accidental variation in a parent will not be repeated in the descendants. In the course of an inquiry made by me in a city of 100,000 inhabit- ants, I found two persons marked by this singular anomaly. ' Suppose — a thing not very easy — that three other cases escaped my observation, and that we have a man with six fingers for each 20,000 souls ; the probability that his son or daughter will not be born with six fingers is as 20,000 to i, and the probability that his grandson will not have six fingers will be as 20,000 times 20,000 (or 4 millions) to i. Finally, the probability that sexdigitism will not continue through three successive generations will be as 8000 millions to i, figures so large that the certainty of things best demonstrated in physics does not approximate to these proba- bilities.' 1 1 Maupertuis, (Ettvra, voL ii. letter 17. Are there Laws of Heredity ? 143 If we apply Maupertuis' argument to a few cases of psycho- logical heredity, for instance mental disorder, or some special talent (for painting, or music) persisting through three or four generations, it is easy to see what becomes of Buckle's objection. in. The greater part of these objections would never have been raised, were it not for the serious error of reasoning only from the exceptions. To treat the question fairly, it ought first of all to have been properly stated, that is to say, the fact of heredity should have been considered, not partially, but in its whole extent in the entire domain of life, as we here propose to do. In order to proceed logically, we should in the first place have to determine what is meant by species. We will not enter into this very difficult question. It will be enough for us to lay down a few very simple, unquestionable and elementary facts, which will be admitted by all. When we compare together two living beings — that is to say, two sums of attributes — and find that these two beings possess in common a very large number of essential attributes, differing only in those which are secondary, so that the two beings may be regarded as very much alike, we say that they are of the same species. The many essential characteristics possessed by them in common we call specific ; the few accidental characters which differentiate them we call individual. Thus, for instance, two individuals of the human species possess in common very many essential characters, being organic, vertebrate mammals, with all that is thereby implied, having senses, physiological or psychological functions, such as sensation, memory, imagination, reason. But they differ from one another in accidental or individual characteristics, as that the muscular system common to both is in the one very well developed, very slightly in the other ; that the faculty of memory common to both is weak in the one, and very strong in the other ; that the faculty of reason common to both does not in the one go beyond the simplest acts, while in the other it includes the highest abstractions. Now, by the act of generation, in which heredity has its origin, every creature produces beings like itself. In the lower forms of <44 Heredity. generation, such as gemmation and fission, this fact is evident In the higher forms, where the connection of the two sexes is requisite, two contrary forces are brought together, and conse- quently are antagonistic. The result is, that the product will (though not without exceptions) resemble one or other of the parents, or both at once. This general truth, that the organisms of a given type descend from organisms of the same type, is so well established by countless instances that it has the character of an axiom. ' The tendency of a living being to repeat itself in its progeny,' says a certain naturalist, 'seems to be a sort of necessity. It were difficult to imagine a creature which should not resemble its parents. In fact, so universal is this tendency that it is recog- nized as one of those fundamental facts which underlie all the natural sciences, and which, with regard to them, take the place held by axioms in the mathematical sciences.' This being understood, heredity appears in its true light, and the objections brought against it can be appreciated at their value; for the question already stated, 'Are cases of psychical heredity fortuitous, or are they the result of a law ? ' may plainly be resolved into several parts, each of which easily admits of answer. 1. Are specific characteristics, physical or moral, transmitted by heredity ? — They are always transmitted, both in the animal and in man. 2. Are those less general characteristics, which constitute races and varieties, hereditary ? — They also are hereditary ; a spaniel was never produced by a bull-dog, nor a white man by a negro. And this holds good also of psychical qualities : a given animal possesses not only the general instincts of the species, but also the peculiar instincts of the race. The negro inherits not only the psychological faculties which are common to all men, but also a certain peculiar form of mental constitution, namely, an excess of sensibility and imagination, sensual tendencies, inca- pacity for abstract thought, etc. 3. Are purely individual characteristics hereditary ? — Facts have demonstrated that they are often so, both in physics and in morals. In conclusion, heredity always governs those broadly general characteristics which determine the species, always those less general characteristics which constitute the variety, and often The Laws of Heredity. 145 individual characteristics. Hence the evident conclusion that heredity is the law, non-heredity the exception. Suppose a father and mother — both large, strong, healthy, active and intelligent — produce a son and a daughter possessing the opposite qualities. In this instance, wherein heredity seems completely set aside, it still holds good that the differences between parents and children are but slight, as compared with the resemblances. Let it not be said that we have dwelt too long on points that are self-evident They are so clear that we forget them, and argue only from isolated cases, thus changing the state of the question by the way in which it is stated. But when, on the contrary, we consider the facts as a whole, heredity appears universal, and we are less surprised at rinding characteristics that are hereditary, than in finding those which are not CHAPTER II. THE LAWS OF HEREDITY. THUS, then, heredity presents itself to us as a biological law, that is, inherent in every living thing, having no other limits than those of life itself. Life under all its forms — vegetal, animal and human, normal and morbid, physical and mental — is governed by this law. It is, in fact, concerned with the essential and inmost nature of vital activity. Among the various functions which in their united action constitute life, two are primary — the one, nutri- tion, which preserves the individual, the other, generation, which perpetuates the species. Some physiologists even reduce these to one, nutrition being, in their view, only a form of generation, or in the words of Claude Bernard, 'a continuous creation of organized matter by means of the histogenic processes appertaining to the living creature.' Ultimately, therefore, the vital functions are reduced to generation ; and as it is from this that heredity immediately flows, we must conclude that the law of hereditary transmission has its rise in the sources of life itself. If we accept the foregoing views, the law of heredity would seem to be one of absolute simplicity. Like produces like : the progeni- tor is repeated in the descendant. Thus the primitive types would 146 Heredity. remain, being continually reproduced, and the world of life would present the spectacle of perfect regularity and supreme monotony. But this is true only in theory. So soon as we come to the facts, we find the law is resolved into secondary laws, or it even appears to vanish in the exceptions. Not to speak of the external causes (chance, influence of circumstances) which interfere with the action of heredity, there are interior causes, inherent in heredity itself, which hinder the law from pursuing the simple course from like to like. A moment's reflection will make this plain. In the inferior creatures, in which generation takes place without sexual connection, hereditary transmission from the parent to the progeny occurs in a perfectly natural way. This happens in cases of fission, as in Trembley's hydra, or in the Nais, which naturally divide into two or more individuals like themselves ; and also in cases of gemmation, where a bud forms on an animal and is soon itself changed into a new and complete animal. But in the higher forms of generation sexual connection is indispensable ; as a struggle necessarily arises between the sexes, each parent tends to produce its like. Here hereditary transmis- sion can at best produce only a mixed constitution, holding from both parents. ' Clearly,' says De Quatrefages, ' the mathematical law of heredity would be for the parent creature to reproduce itself completely in its progeny. And perhaps this law, absolute though it be, is to be found underlying all natural phenomena, but in every case it is masked by accessory circumstances, by the condi- tions amid which heredity acts. But it does not only rest on theoretical considerations, it rests also on facts. Although subject to profound and continual disturbance, still, if we note all the phenomena which show in individuals a tendency to obey the mathematical law, heredity is found to realize in the aggregate of each species the result which it fails to realize in isolated indi- viduals. To use a figurative expression, the true meaning of which cannot fail to be apprehended, while it cannot be verified in the whole, it may be in detail.' The question is still more complicated when we descend to individual facts. We meet with so many oddities and exceptions, and so many contradictory opinions in explanation of them, that it seems as though, when we pass from theory to practice, all law The Laws of Heredity. had vanished. Still these facts, however numerous and varied they may be, may all be brought within the compass of a few formulas, which might be called the empirical laws of heredity. These real laws, which are so many aspects or incomplete expressions of the ideal law, are the following, so far as observation reveals them. 1. Direct heredity, which consists in the transmission of paternal and maternal qualities to the children. This form of heredity offers two aspects : (i.) The child takes after father and mother equally as regards both physical and moral characters, a case, strictly speaking, of very rare occurrence, for the very ideal of the law would then be realized. Or (2), the child, while taking after both parents, more specially resembles one of them; and here again we must distinguish between two cases. a. The first of these is when the heredity takes place in the same sex — from father to son, from mother to daughter. ft. The other, which occurs more frequently, is where heredity occurs between different sexes — from father to daughter, from mother to son. 2. Reversional Heredity, or atavism, consists in the reproduc- tion in the descendants of the moral or physical qualities of their ancestors. It occurs frequently between grandfather and grand- son, grandmother and granddaughter. 3. Collateral, or indirect heredity, which is of rarer occurrence than the foregoing, subsists, as indicated by its name, between individuals and their ancestors in the indirect line — uncle, or grand-uncle and nephew, aunt and niece. 4. Finally, to complete the classification, we must mention the heredity of influence, very rare from the physiological point of view, and of which probably no single instance is proved in the moral order. It consists in the reproduction in the children by a second marriage of some peculiarity belonging to a former spouse. Such are the various formulas under which all the facts of heredity may be classed. We propose to study them in succession. When to this we have added, as the necessary complement, the study of the exceptions to these laws, we shall have passed in review every single case of heredity. 148 Heredity. SECTION I. DIRECT HEREDITY. L We have first to resort to physiology in order to clear the field, since the laws of physiological heredity have been oftener and far better studied than those of moral heredity ; yet so close is the connection between the two orders of facts, that a person can hardly study the one without the other. In the case of direct heredity, the concurrence of the two sexes in the formation of the product is now admitted by all physiolo- gists. We need, therefore, only refer to the ancient doctrines of the spermatisls and the ovists. The former held that, notwith- standing the apparent concurrence of both sexes in generation, the germ is contained in the male element alone. The latter, who held a doctrine the very reverse of this, but equally exclusive, maintained that the germ exists only in the female element The first doctrine, which was adopted by Galen, Hartsoeker, Boerhaave, Leeuwenhoek, and the second, which was held by Malpighi, Vallisnieri, Spallanzani, Bonnet, Haller, and even De Blainville, are now equally abandoned. It is admitted that the child is sprung from both father and mother, and embryology demon- strates this. But opinions diverge in regard to the part taken by each of the parents. If we take a purely theoretic point of view, it is easy enough to formulate the law of direct heredity. According to P. Lucas, it would consist in the 'absolute equilibrium in the physical and moral nature of the infant of the integral resemblances of the two parents.' The procreated individual would be, everywhere and always, nothing but the exact mean of his two parents ; the dis- tinct characters of both would be reproduced in their progeny — in every portion of his body, and in every faculty of his mind. But this is only a logical hypothesis, which very rarely becomes a reality in the higher animals ; and it is hardly rash to say that the law has never been met with in this ideal form. And yet we understand that this is the law, that is to say, the only formula broad enough to include all the phenomena; the only rule which flows of necessity from the nature of things, and which expresses the essence of heredity. 77ie Laws of Heredity. 149 It is easy to account for the disagreement between logic and experience. No law of nature is unconditional. They all require certain determinate conditions for their realization ; and where these fail, the action of the law rests suspended, or without efficacy. But nowhere are the requisite conditions more numerous or more difficult to fulfil than in the phenomena of generation. For in order to produce in the infant this perfect equilibrium of paternal and maternal qualities, there must evidently be perfect equality of action on the part of both parents ; for it will be admitted that in all races, and in all species, the general or partial preponderance in the act of reproduction appertains to that one of the parents in whom the general or partial force of constitution is the greater. A great number of facts, collected by a crowd of writers, show that this rule applies both to the vegetal and the animal world. This preponderance of one of the procreative individuals is very notable in crosses between distinct races or species. It is true that in this case there is a struggle not only between the sexes, but between distinct specific forces. These crosses, however, only exhibit to us, more or less magnified, what takes place in ordinary cases. According to Rursh, marriages between Danes and East Indian women produce children with the physique and the vigour of the European type, while nothing of this kind occurs when these same women marry other Europeans. The intermarriage of Causasians and Mongolians produces, according to Klaproth, half-breeds in whom the Mongolian type is always predominant, whatever may be the sex of the half-breed. From Levaillant's observations (Voyage en Cafrerie) on the half-bred children of Europeans and Hottentots, we gather that in them the moral nature is always determined by the race of the father. 'When- ever it happens, which is but rarely, that a white woman has intercourse with a Hottentot, the child has always the good-nature, and the gentle and kindly inclinations, of the father. But the children of white men and Hottentot women, on the other hand, have in themselves the germs of all vices and unruly passions.' Cross breeding in the animal races exhibits also the unquestionable preponderance of one of the parents. This being admitted, it may be readily shown that among the higher animals the complete conditions necessary for the realiza- tion of the ideal law can nowhere be found. 1 50 Heredity. 1. There must be first of all a perfect correspondence between the physical and mental constitution of the parents. A moment's reflection will show that each of these two general states — the physical and the mental constitution — is itself the result of many particular states, which, taken together, impress on every individual that distinct and special mark which is in physiology called temperament, in psychology, character. 2. But even if these first conditions are fulfilled, there is some- thing more required. It is not enough that the physical and mental constitution of both parents should be equipoised in a general sense ; there are, moreover, particular conditions of age and health, which are indispensable. Disproportion in the ages of the two parents, where it does not produce sterility, gives the preponderance to the younger. Experiments made by Girou de Buzareingues on various animals show that the progeny of an old male and a young female are less like their father, in proportion as he is feeble and the mother vigorous, and that the progeny of an old female and a young male resemble the mother less in propor- tion as he is vigorous. Nor is the influence of the actual state of health, of vigour, or of cheerfulness in one of the parents less marked in the progeny. 3. Finally, there are sundry other states more accidental and transitory than those named, which influence the act of generation. Positive facts show that these states, all transitory as they are, exert a very powerful influence on the progeny, and ensure the preponderance of one or the other sex. We need only recall the fact that nothing is more common than the intellectual feebleness of children begotten in a state of intoxication ; that a popular tradition, adopted by several authors, and to some extent supported by history, represents illegitimate children as cleverer, more hand- some, and more healthy than others, because they are ' love- children.' On the other hand, 'when parents,' says Burdach, ' have a dislike to one another, they beget ugly forms, and their children are less lively and vigorous.' It is easy to see that there are many circumstances of this kind which must influence the act of generation. When we consider how impossible it is to have these general, particular and for- tuitous conditions in perfect equilibrium in the two parents, we The Laws of Heredity. 151 find it natural that the law already stated should remain in the purely theoretic state. Hence we have to seek in the facts themselves for some empiric formula, which may be deduced from them. Here arise many opinions, of which the following are the chief. The simplest is that which holds that there is an invariable connection between the heredity of physical resemblance and the heredity of moral resemblance. That parent who transmits the former, or who influences it most, transmits also the latter, by reason of the strict correlation existing between the two. This doctrine, which has been maintained by Burdach, rests, in principle, on the general relations between the physical and moral natures ; and, in fact, on numerous cases furnished by experience. The case of twins is particularly cited, as commonly presenting an extra- ordinary conformity, not only in the external form and in the features of the face, but also in tastes, in faculties, and even in fortune. Da Gama Machado, author of a Theory of Resemblances, which contains a large number of curious facts for the study of physical heredity, holds that the parent who transmits his colour transmits likewise his character. ' In the colonies,' says he, ' the half-breed, called griffon or fusco (dark), resulting from the union of a mulatto and a negress, is much darker than the mulatto. But this difference of colour is accompanied by a difference in character: the issue of a mulatto and a negress are far more docile than the issue of a negress and a white man. If a wild duck couple with a domestic duck, the duckling resulting from this union, having its father's colour, leaves the barn-yard and returns to the wild life. If the linnet be crossed with the canary or the goldfinch, the transmission of instincts will, according to this author, follow the transmission of colour, and if there is a mixture of colours, there will be also a mixture of instincts. Girou de Buzareingues, whose experiments on generation are well known, distinguishes two lives in every individual, whatever the sex : The external life, on which depend the nervous system of the animal life and the muscular system, of which motor activity, will, and intelligence are the attributes ; and the internal life, which comprises the cellular tissue, the digestive system, the great 152 Heredity. sympathetic, and the whole nerve-system of the organic life : on this depend internal sensibility and the sentiments. Each of these two lives would have the faculty of reproduction ; consequently the transmission of the external life would imply the transmission of the intelligence, while the transmission of the internal life would imply that of the sentiments.1 Gall and his disciple Spurzheim, rejecting these doctrines, main- tained an opinion which results logically from their system — that the analogy in the conformation of the various regions of the cranial arch implies analogous psychological constitution. * It has been always observed,' says Gall, ' that when brothers and sisters resemble one another, or their father and mother, in the shape of the head, they also resemble each other in psychical and mental qualities.' We may fairly consider that, since every one of these doctrines is supported by a large number of facts, they all may be esteemed partial generalizations; but since they are all open to many exceptions, none can be accepted as a total generalization. Thus is theory confirmed by experience : reasoning deductively, we arrived at the conclusion that the perfect law of heredity would never be realized ; and now the examination of the facts shows that no empiric formula attains the breadth of a general law. The only thing that results clearly from this conflict of doctrines is, that in point of fact there is always a preponderance of one of the parents. In the case of direct heredity, the child is always more specially like either the father or the mother. This preponderance, moreover, is never exclusive, as will appear hereafter, from some curious facts. In spite of appearances, the heredity of parents to children is never unilateral, but always bilateral. The phenomena of reversionary heredity prove that, although the influence of one of the parents on the child may seem abolished, it never is annihilated, and thus the law of equality of action is as far as possible realized. The phenomena of cross-breeding confirm what has been said. Anthropologists have drawn up tables wherein the influence of the 1 De la Gdndration, pp. 130, 131. The Laws of Heredity. 153 father and that of the mother, each represented by a fraction, are supposed to be equal in the production of the half-breed. But this hypothesis, as expressed in the following table, is altogether theoretic, WHITE AND BLACK. Generations. Parents. Offspring. Blood. White. Black. 1st White + Negro Mulatto i i 2nd < Mulatto + 1 1 ( White Negro i ' Tierceroon Griffo * \ \ \ 3rd Tierceroon + White Negro Quadroon Ditto i i i * 4th ( White Quadroon + < / Negro Quinteroon Ditto fS- TV TV tt Eut, in fact, cross-breeding does not by any means proceed with such mathematical regularity. Not to speak of the numerous cases in which the union of white and black results in a child entirely black, or entirely white, in half-breeds there is always a preponderance of one or other of the parents. Burmeister, one of the closest observers of the mulattoes of South America and of the West Indian Islands, denies that the mulatto is exactly the mean between his two parents. In the immense majority of cases, his characters are borrowed from both races, but one of them is always predominant, and that usually the negro race. Primer Bey, who has carefully studied the mulattoes in Egypt and Arabia, passes the same judgment He observes the marked predomi- nance of the negro type. It is manifest in the curly, woolly hair ; in the general form and dimensions of the skull ; in the forehead, usually low and slightly receding ; in the conformation of the feet, and in a prognathism which scarcely ever disappears in the first generation. Pier edit y. The foregoing observations may be thus summarized : In the case of direct heredity the child derives its qualities from father and mother. There is always a preponderance of one of these. It will, perhaps, be asked whether, after having treated the question mainly from the physiological point of view, we ought not now to take it up again from the psychological point of view, and search history for facts in support of this first form of direct heredity — that is, for cases of persons who derived their qualities from both father and mother. Such cases might be found. It might be said that Alexander resembled Philip in some respects, Olympias in others. Nero was the worthy son of Agrippina ; but it is not to be forgotten that his father, Domitius Ahenobarbus, was noted for his cruelty : he had one of his freedmen put to death for refusing to drink to excess ; he purposely crushed to death a child on the Appian Way ; and he was wont to say : ' Of me and Agrippina nothing can be born that is not accursed.' Michelet declares that Queen Elizabeth resembled both Henry VIII. and Ann Boleyn. According to the same historian, the Duke de Vendome was most like his mother, Gabrielle d'Estrees ; but in his ' waggish look comes out his Gascon ancestry and the great Bearnais jester.' (Henri IV.) Schopenhauer, who explains the question of heredity according to his metaphysical system, holds that whatever is primary and fundamental in the individual — character, passions, tendencies — is inherited from the father : the intelligence, a secondary and derivative faculty, directly from the mother. He was pleased to imagine that he found in his own person the irrefutable evidence of this doctrine. Intellectual and subtle like his mother, who had literary tastes and lived in Goethe's circle at Weimar, he was, like his father, shy, obstinate, intractable : he was a man of ' scowling mien, and of fantastic judgments.' l It would not be difficult to multiply instances, but the labour would be wholly useless ; for the question before us now is, not whether the child derives its qualities from both father and mother 1 Schopenhauer, Die Wdt als Wtile und Vorstchung, voL L § 23 ; vol. ii. book iv. ch. 43. The Laws of Heredity. 155 (about which there can be no doubt), but whether there are cases where it derives them in equal degree from both. If such a case were to occur, we could not show that it did, especially as regards moral resemblances. To that end we must needs have exact pro- cesses of measurement, which do not exist; we should have to estimate quantities and not qualities. The foregoing examples, and all the others we might accumulate, could prove only this one thing, that there is always a more or less marked preponderance of one of the two parents. Cases occur where the preponderant action of the father or of the mother is manifested in a singular way, each parent seeming to have, as it were, chosen some par- ticular organ. Thus the father may transmit to the child the brain, and the mother the stomach ; one the heart, the other the liver ; one the great intestine, the other the pancreas ; one the kidneys, the other the bladder. These facts have been established by animal and human anatomy. They give the organic reason for the intercrossing of instincts, which is often so curious, and of the morbid and passionate predispositions of both parents in the child. Sometimes, too, one of the parents transmits the entire physical, the other the entire moral nature. The most curious and incon- testable instance of this is the case of Lislet-Geoffroy, engineer in Mauritius. He was the son of a white man and of a very stupid negress. In physical constitution he was as much a negro as his mother; he had the features, the complexion, the woolly hair, and the peculiar odour of his race. In moral constitution he was so thoroughly a white as regards intellectual development, that he succeeded in vanquishing the prejudices of blood, so strong in the colonies, and in being admitted into the most aristocratic houses. At the time of his death he was Corresponding Member of the Academy of Sciences. Thus we are brought to the examination of cases of unilateral heredity — the word unilateral being here taken, as has been ex- plained, in a restricted sense. 156 Heredity. ii. Whenever, then, the strict conditions of intermixture are wanting, the rule is that one of the parents is preponderant When we study empirically the laws of heredity, we find that this case is of by far the most frequent occurrence. Common language translates this everyday experience into such phrases as these: this child reminds one of his father ; or, that child is the image of its mother. But experience also teaches us that this preponderance takes place in two ways, being sometimes direct, sometimes diagonal. Sometimes the preponderance is manifested in an individual of the one sex on the child of the same sex ; in that case the son resembles the father ; the daughter the mother. Again, this preponderance is manifested in the opposite sex; then the daughter resembles the father, and the son the mother. We will consider the latter case first When we study heredity empirically, when, that is, we observe facts and the generalizations which immediately result from it, the formula which includes the largest number of facts and admits of the fewest exceptions is the following : Heredity passes from one sex to the opposite. This assertion may at first appear strange, and even' entirely at variance with what has already been said, that like produces like. This will hereafter be explained ; but perhaps it will appear less difficult of comprehension if we follow heredity through several generations. It will then be seen to pass from the grandfather to the mother, and then from the mother to the son; or from the grandmother to the father, and from the father to the daughter. Thus it returns to its starting-point But not to dwell on this question here, we would remark that the thesis of cross heredity is admitted by several great physio- logists, such as Haller, Burdach, Girou de Buzareingues, and Richerand. ' This explains,' says the latter, ' why so many great men have mediocre sons.' Michelet thinks that history justifies him in broadly affirming the existence of cross heredity. ' No other king,' says he, speaking of Louis XVL, 'exemplifies better a law of which history has but few exceptions. The king was a foreigner. Every son takes after his mother. The king was the son of a foreign woman, and had her blood. Succession in such ft T/ie Laws of Heredity. 157 cases has nearly always the effect of an invasion. The evidences of this are numberless. Catherine and Marie de Medicis gave us pure Italians ; in the same way La Farnese may be traced in Carlos II. of Spain ; Louis XVI. was a real Saxon king, and more German than the Germans themselves.' 1 Dr. P. Lucas, though he does not explicitly accept this law, still does not reject it Let us, therefore, look at the facts which support it These we take at three sources : intermixture of races, mental diseases, and history. i. From the physiological point of view cases of cross heredity are very numerous under normal conditions, that is, when the parents are healthy and of good constitutions. When one of them presents any anomaly or deformity, we find that cross- heredity is still more common : thus, a curved spine, lameness, rickets, sexdigitism, deaf-muteness, mycrophthalmy — in short, all organic imperfections — pass from the father to the daughters, and from the mother to the sons.2 From the psychological point of view, Gall cites the curious case of twins of opposite sexes, where the boy was like the mother, a very stupid woman, and the girl like the father, who was a man of considerable talent In cross breeding, this appears very plainly. When a dog is crossed with a wolf-bitch, the males usually inherit the character of the wolf, the females that of the dog. It even appears that this transfer of qualities to the opposite sex takes place more regularly with regard to moral than to physical characters. As will be seen, Buffon, after in vain trying to bring about a crossing of a dog and a she-wolf, abandoned the attempt But chance brought about that which art could not do. The wolf dropped two cubs; the one a male which physically resembled the dog, but in character was wild and savage ; the other, a female, physically resembled the wolf, but in disposition was gentle, familiar, and even trouble- somely affectionate. From the crossing of a he-goat and a bitch hound sprang young ones, some of which were like the goat, others like the bitch : the latter had all the habits of their sire. 1 Histoire cU France, vol. xvii. a Girou has a great number of observations on this point. — D; la G 276 — 284. 158 Heredity. ' A wild torn cat,' says Girou, 'and a domestic cat produced two torn cats which were like their mother, and were gentle and familiar like her, and one she-cat, which resembled the father, and was wild like him, and far more shy than the other two kittens.' The same author states that hunters have a proverb which says, Dog from bitch and bitch from dog (' Chien de chienne et chientie de chien), meaning that the mother's qualities are found in the son, and the father's in the daughter. The Arabs, who think so much of the genealogy of their horses, show a marked preference for blood on the female side over the male side. We may also cite decisive facts drawn from the human race. ' P was in the habit,' says Girou, ' of going to sleep with the right leg crossed upon the left. One of his daughters came into the world with the same habit ; she constantly assumed that pos- ture in the cradle, in spite of the resistance offered by the napkin. * I know several girls who resemble their fathers, and who from them have inherited peculiar and extraordinary habits, not to be attributed either to imitation or to education ; as also of boys who from birth have borne a very striking resemblance, whether physi- cally or morally, to their mothers ; but propriety forbids all detail on this subject * Here I would observe that the external and the moral resem- blance of the son to the mother is far less frequent and less perfect than that of the daughter to the father.' 2. Mental disorders furnish a considerable number of cases in support of cross heredity. These are to be found scattered through the works of writers on insanity. Baillarger, in his Recher- ches sur F Anatomic, la Physiologic, et la Pathologic du Systeme Nerveux, has endeavoured to go over the whole ground. In 571 cases observed, he found 246 of cross heredity and 325 of direct The result, as we see, is not favourable to the thesis which regards cross heredity as of the more frequent occurrence. The author has not failed to draw this conclusion, which will be hereafter examined. 3. We need now to collect some facts from history, restricting ourselves to well-known personages, and eliminating carefully all cases in which hereditary transmission appears questionable. The Laws of Heredity. '59 HEREDITY FROM MOTHER TO SON. MOTHER. Olympias • • . Cornelia .... Livia Agrippina .... Faustina . Soemias .... Mammxa . . . . Marozia .... Blanche of Castille . Berengaria .... Charlotte of Savoy . . . Louise of Savoy . . . Mary Stuart . Catherine de Medicis . . Jeanne d'Albret Marie de Medicis . . Anne-Christine Marlin Mdlle. de Tencin Genevieve de Vassau Santi Lomaka (Greek) . . Mrs. Byron (Catherine Gordon) SON. Alexander the Gieat The Gracchi Tiberius Nero Commodus Heliogabalus Alexander Severus Pope John XL Louis IX. St Ferdinand Charles VIIL Francis I. James I. (?) Her sons Henri IV. Louis XIIL Buffon D'Alembert Mirabeau Andre" ) M-J. / Goethe Byron Chdnier Remarks. — Alfonso XL, King of Castille, famed for his re- ligious zeal and his love of warfare against the Moors, was the father of Berengaria, Blanche, and Uraca. The first of these became the mother of St Ferdinand. The second had four sons, among them St Louis and Charles of Anjou, both ascetics, who mortified their flesh with iron girdles, scourgings, extreme fastings, etc. The third made her son Sancho take the monastic habit, though called to the throne of Portugal. Buffon, who held the doctrine of cross heredity, used to say that he himself took after his mother. ' He held it for a principle, says Herault de Sechelles, ' that childen usually inherit intellectual 8 1 60 Heredity. and moral qualities from their mother. And this he applied to his own case, speaking in the highest terms of praise of his mother, who in point of fact was a woman of much ability, extensive knowledge, and of a superior mind. Mirabeau (Friend of Humanity) was wont to say of his son : ' He possesses all the low qualities of the maternal stock.' Goethe resembled his father physically, but psychologically he resembled his mother by his strong instinct of self-preservation, his dislike of all strong emotions, and his caustic and biting speech. (For well-known anecdotes on this point, see his Life by Henri Blaze, and Life by Lewes.) By his servant maid, whom he married, a woman of inferior intellect, he had several children, one only of them a boy ; they all died young. This son resembled Goethe in bodily vigour, but he was of narrow mind like his mother, and Wieland used to call him the son of the handmaiden (der Sohn der Magd). HEREDITY FROM FATHER TO DAUGHTER. FATHER. DAUGHTER. Aristippus, the Cyrenaic philo- sopher .... Areta Theon, the geometrician . Hypatia Scipio ..... Cornelia Caesar .... Julia (Pompey's wife) Cicero ..... Tullia Caligula . . . . Julia Drusilla Charlemagne .... His daughters (?) Alexander VI. ... Lucretia Borgia Louis XI ..... Anne de Beaujeu Louis XII ..... Claude de France Henrv VIII ( Elizabeth Henry vill. . . -j Henri II ..... Marguerite de Valois Henri IV ..... Henrietta of England Cromwell .... His daughters Gustavus Adolphus . . Christina The Regent . . . His daughters Necker ... . Madame de Stae'l The Laws of Heredity. 161 Remarks. — Complaint having been made to Caligula that his daughter, two years old, scratched the little children who were her playfellows and even tried to tear out their eyes, he replied with a laugh, ' I see ; she is my daughter.' 'The Regent,' says Michelet, 'took after his mother, a robust, masculine Bavarian woman. She was of an inquiring, active mind, who roamed in all fields of science, and had a liking for general culture, which was in those times rare in France." (Histoire de France, tome xiv.) Her son, the Regent, was a fool : her daughters were extremely strange. The eldest, the Duchesse de Berry, a charming woman of unbridled passions, was certainly mad. The second, who possessed her father's versatility, was an encyclopaedic whirlwind. The third and fourth were all caprice and folly. They astonished Italy and Spain with such daring scandals that it is impossible not to see madness in all they did. Lucas, following Carlyle, thus sums up the genealogy of the Cromwells. Robert Cromwell, grandson of the terrible and frenzied instrument of Henry VIII. in his contest with Rome, married Catharine Stuart, a second cousin of Charles I. To Oliver, the only male among the seven children which were the fruit of this strange marriage, passed the enthusiastic and powerful genius of the Cromwells, and it raised him to the highest station. Oliver took to wife Eliza Bouchier, a woman of gentle disposition. His male issue were 'Arcadian Shepherds,' his daughters more fanatical than himself. in. We next consider the third form of direct heredity, the pre- ponderance of one parent in the children of the same sex. This, like the preceding form, is based upon a large number of facts derived from physiology, psychology, and history. Possibly these are not so numerous as the facts of cross heredity. This, however, is no more than a vague and general impression, in short, a mere hypothesis. Against the questionable arguments derived from the number of facts, the upholders of the contrary opinion might not only cite facts, but might also allege a theoretical consideration in favour of their view, which is not 1 62 Heredity. without value ; they might say that their thesis is only a special application of a maxim generally admitted with regard to gener- ation, viz. that like produces like. When we treat of reversional heredity, we shall endeavour to show that the conflict between these two opinions is only apparent, and also how they may be harmonized. Among the physiological facts which exhibit heredity trans- mitted in the same sex, we may cite the family of Edward Lambert, the human porcupine, in which a peculiar affection was transmitted only to the males. Daltonism, or colour-blindness, manifests itself more frequently, as we have seen, in men than in women ; yet it has been transmitted through five generations to twelve persons, all females. Constitution, temperament, fecundity, longevity, idiosyncrasies, or anomalies of every kind, pass as often from father to son as from mother to daughter. From the psychological point of view, as we have said, Bail- larger, resting on the statistical data of mental disease, inclines to the belief that heredity usually occurs between individuals of the same sex. His 671 cases were distributed as follows : — CASES OF MENTAL DISEASE. Total In the father 225 In the mother 346 571 „ sons 128 „ daughters 197 325 „ daughters 97 „ sons 149 246 We now turn to the statistical reports made to the French Government in 1860, of which we have already spoken. MEN WOMEN In 1,000 cases. In 1,000 cases. 128 inherited from the father 130 inherited from the mother no „ „ the mother TOO „ „ the father 26 „ „ both. 26 „ „ both. It is plain that these two tables lead to the same conclusions. We hold that the study of mental disease is of great importance for experimental psychology, and well adapted for resolving many problems ; yet we would not place over-much confidence in it in the present case. The Laws of Heredity. 163 In the first place, if the author, basing his judgment entirely on the fact of mental alienation, proposes thence to draw a conclusion covering the whole question of heredity, physical as well as moral, he makes so great a mistake in logic that the mere statement is a sufficient condemnation. It would be too arbitrary to rely on a single characteristic, for the heredity of insanity does not include that of the muscular system, of the features, of the complexion, or the apparatus of organic life. But if, as is probable, he means to speak only of mental here- dity, the fault of his reasoning, though less grave, is still very serious. The heredity of mental affections is only one of the forms of psychological heredity, and it is not legitimate to argue from one to all To derive from parents a morbid predisposition which will hereafter lead to mania, monomania, hallucination, or dementia, by no means necessitates the inheritance of their entire psycho- logical constitution, their character, their genius, their scientific and artistic aptitudes, their memory, passions, or sentiments ; facts prove the contrary. In very many cases the cause of mental disease is altogether physical — a lesion of the brain or of some other organ ; and nothing justifies the assertion, that as these lesions are inherited, therefore the whole mental dynamism is also inherited. Thus the arguments drawn from mental pathology have not so wide a range as Baillarger assigns to them. But if they are insufficient to prove that heredity in the same sex is more frequent than cross heredity, they do, however, prove that it is of frequent occurrence. We now cite from history some well-established instances of thii form of heredity. HEREDITY FROM FATHER TO SON. FATHER. SON. Nicomachos , . . Aristotle Scipio (Publius Cornelius) Scipio (Africanus major) Vespasian . . . Titus Verus (^Elius) . . Verus (Lucianus) Pepin d'Heristal . . Charles Martel Charles Martel . . Pepin the Short 164 Heredity. HEREDITY FROM FATHER TO SON (continued). FATHER. Pepin the Short . . Hamilcar • • • Seneca (Marcus) . . Artevelt (Jaques van) . Guise (Francois) . . Nassau (William of) . Scaliger (Julius Csesar) . Casaubon (Isaac) . . Tasso (Bernardo) . . Sanzio (Giovanni) , , . Bellini (Jacopo) . . . Teniers (David) . . Mie'ris (F.) . Van der Velde (William) . Racine (Jean) Mozart (Johann George) . Beethoven (Johann) Niebuhr .... Buckland (W.) . ., ,.'. Herschell (W.) Ampere (Andre') . Geoffroy St.-Hilaire (Etienne) De Candolle (A. Pyrame) Arago (Francois) Pitt (Lord Chatham) . D'Israeli (Isaac) Mill (James) Schopenhauer . . . SON. Charlemagne f Hannibal < Hasdrubal ' Mago Seneca Gallic Artevelt (Philip van) Guise (Henri) Nassau (Maurice of) Scaliger (Joseph) Casaubon (Meric) Tasso (Torquato) Rafaelle (Sanzio) Bellini (Giovanni) Teniers (David) Guillaume-Mie'ris Jean Van der Velde (William) Racine (Louis) Mozart (Johann) Beethoven (Ludwig) Niebuhr (Carsten) Buckland (F.) Herschell (J.) Ampere (J.-J.) Geoffroy St.-Hilaire (Isidore) De Candolle (Alphonse) Arago (Emmanuel) Pitt (W.) D'Israeli (Benjamin) Mill (J. Stuart) Schopenhauer (Arthur) Remarks. — In many families the transmission from father to son has continued for several generations, as has been already noticed The Laws of Heredity. 165 in the family of Charlemagne ; among artists it is frequent (Beet- hoven, Mozart, Van der Velde, etc.). L. Verus, colleague of Marcus Aurelius, is commonly known, but not so his father, ./Elius Verus. Yet a knowledge of his cha- racter would serve to explain that of his son. In Spartianus (Historia Augusta) are some curious details as to his beds of roses carefully picked and prepared, etc., showing his extreme effeminacy. HEREDITY FROM MOTHER TO DAUGHTER. It is not surprising that there are not many instances under this head. Probably any one who will tax his memory a little will recollect instances of this kind occurring in ordinary families. In history, science, literature, this is more difficult Women have there acted but an inconsiderable part, and it is therefore natural that cases of heredity between famous mothers and famous daughters should be rare. Still here are a few. The Emperor Augustus, who was several times married, had by his wife Scribonia his celebrated daughter Julia. She became the wife of Agrippa and had a daughter, another Julia. Both of them caused much grief to Augustus by their infamous conduct, 'Julias, filiam et neptem,' says Suetonius (c. 65), omnibus probris contam- inatus relegavit.' We may remark in passing that according to the same historian Csesar had by Cleopatra a son, ' similem Caesaris forma et incessu.' He was called Caesarion, and died very young. Agrippina, the wife of Germanicus, ' Mother of the camps,' was a strong-willed, heroic woman, 'pervicax irae,' says Tacitus. Being Agrippa's daughter, she had in her character some of her father's sternness. ' My daughter,' said Tiberius to her, ' you are always complaining because you do not reign.' She was the mother of the famous Agrippina, who made Claudius her slave, and raised Nero to the imperial throne. We have already mentioned Marozia, mother of Pope John XI. This woman, who was famous in the tenth century for her wealth, her influence, and her misconduct, had her vices from her mother, Theodora, and transmitted them to her son. Michelet points out the resemblance between Marie Leczinska 1 66 Heredity. and her daughter Adelaide. 'The queen, before her marriage, had a tendency to epileptic fits. Even after her marriage, being agitated with causeless fears, she would rise from her bed at night and walk about Madame Adelaide appears to have inherited much of this excitability. She was brave, with the courage of her race, with some childish fears, as for instance of thunder. .... The queen loved her father (Stanislas), and was very much beloved by him, which aroused her mother's jealousy. This, too, Adelaide in- herited from her mother, and she loved her father beyond all bounds of reason.' (Histoire de France, tome xvi.) To sum up all that we have said about direct heredity : it is certain that the child inherits from both parents. It never happens that either parent exercises an exclusive influence. The action of one is always preponderant, this preponderance takes place in two ways, either within the same sex or from one sex to the other. As we have seen, both of these are of very frequent occurrence. The only question is, which is the more frequent ? An answer is impossible, and even if it were possible, it would be to no purpose. To make it perfectly exact we should have to bring together all the cases of direct heredity and range them in two groups : on the one hand, cross heredity, and on the other heredity in the same sex, and then compare the totals. Yet all this labour, even if possible, would lead to nothing. Between these totals there would probably be so small a difference that no one could say which expressed the law and which the exceptions. Whenever a case of this kind arises, we may say that both sides are right and both wrong ; that each possesses only a fragment of the law, thinking he possesses the whole, and that there is some higher point of view which will reconcile the two. With regard to heredity, we seek that law of which fragments only have so far been given to us by our empiric generalizations. But we must first study the phenomena of atavism. SECTION IL — ATAVISM. Whenever a child, instead of resembling his immediate parents, resembles one of his grandparents, or some still remoter ancestor, or even some distant member of a collateral branch of the family — a circumstance which must be attributed to the descent of all its The Laws of Heredity. 167 members from a common ancestor — this is called a case of atavism. This is called reversional heredity (Lucas) ; reversion, or in the more expressive German term, JRuckschlag and Ruckschritt. The fact was known to the ancients; Aristotle, Galen, and Pliny speak of it Plutarch mentions a Greek woman who gave birth to a negro child, and was brought to trial for adultery, but it transpired that she was descended in the fourth degree from an Ethiopian. Montaigne expresses his astonishment at this, ' Is it not marvellous,' says he, ' that this drop of seed from which we are produced should bear the impression, not only of the bodily form, but even of the thoughts and the inclinations of our fathers ? Where does this drop of water keep this infinite number of forms ? and how does it bear these likenesses through a progress so hap- hazard and so irregular that the great-grandson shall resemble the great-grandfather, the nephew the uncle ? ' In the first part of this work are recounted a large number of cases of atavism ; here it will suffice to call attention to some curious facts which will serve to show the tendency of heredity. The phenomenon of reversion is of very frequent occurrence in vegetal and animal races. Dr. Broca gives a curious example, the result of an experiment he made with a view to study the formation of races by methodical selection. He took the seeds of corn- flower which he gathered promiscuously in the fields, and sowed them. This produced blue and red cornflowers. He then sowed the seed of the red cornflowers only, and obtained about a hundred flowers, two thirds of which were blue, the remainder varying from violet to rose colour. If again the seed of the rose cornflower be sown, the result will be a few blue flowers, many red, rose, and even white. It would thus be possible to create a white species, but only by a constant struggle against the phenomena of reversion which persistently reproduce the primitive type.1 Girou de Buzareingues gives at length the history of a strain of dogs, a cross between the pointer and the spaniel, which is briefly as follows. In the first generation the product is a spaniel ; this, being crossed with a pure pointer, the result is a mongrel male with all the external characters of the pointer. By coupling this mongrel 1 Bulletins de la Soctfl'e i— > CO O 3 w PH •< Q -*5 Male Line . . Female Line 2 64 68 32 74 26 7i 29 94 6 85 »5 27 73 70 3° Total 100 100 100 100 100 100 100 100 100 1 90 Heredity. On comparing the two averages, seventy for males, thirty for females, we cannot fail to be struck by the great difference between the two, and the marked preponderance of the male line. The author has inquired into the cause of this, but without arriving, as he himself admits, at any very satisfactory conclusion. He allows but little weight to the hypothesis that in the biographies of great men, if their mothers are mentioned, but little is said with regard to their other female relations ; for in the case of statesmen and great commanders, whose genealogy is well known, the female line is likewise very much inferior to the male, as is shown in columns two and three of Table III. The author thinks that a more satisfactory solution would be to admit that the aunts, sisters, and daughters of illustrious men, being accustomed at home to an intellectual and moral atmosphere above the common, do not, on an average, marry as much as other women ; and he is of opinion that his hypothesis would bear the test of facts, though he confesses that it is impossible to apply the test in. We have now given in a few pages the results of a thick volume filled with facts and figures. While regretting again the absence of larger views, we must bestow high praise on this taste for exact research, this constant aiming at precision, this fear of elevating to the rank of objective truths merely subjective impressions. But the work does not give what it promises to give. It will be noticed in the first place that Mr. Gallon's method, being chiefly quantitative, differs totally from our own, which is chiefly qualitative. In the foregoing chapters we have striven to show that by comparison of facts we arrive at a great biological, universal law — heredity ; a law that is necessary, invariable, and without exception, provided secondary causes do not intervene. In the next place, descending from the more to the less general, we have examined the various aspects of this law, and have shown how the facts of heredity fall under three formulas, or four at the most The laws have been in our view only the simple general- ization of facts. Mr. Galton proceeds differently ; facts are for him only a matter of calculation, he groups them with a view of arriving not at laws Essays in Statistics. 191 but only at averages. We do not find in his book anything like an analytical research into the general formulas of heredity. His method is statistical. And here the question arises, What is the value of this method, applied to moral facts ? Statistics, according to the definition of its professors, is ' the science of social facts expressed in numerical terms.' Its object is to collect and group methodically all moral or social phenomena which are susceptible of numerical valuation. Its method consists in exposition and induction. The method of exposition, which is the simple and the more certain, consists in the calculation of averages, and is based on this undoubted truth, that ' in an inde- finitely protracted series of events, the action of regular and con- stant causes must in the long run outweigh that of irregular causes.' (Laplace). The inductive method, which is less certain, consists in obtaining numerical expressions for social facts, by means of arithmetical or algebraic processes applied to a small number of observations, and in admitting, on the ground of analogy or prob- ability, results not directly established. Mr. Gallon employs both methods, but chiefly the second. He feels, therefore, confident in regard to his method. In spite of all the attacks and jokes levelled against it, I hold that statistics is a genuine science, and that it is of high importance. But its mistake, in my opinion, is to suppose that it furnishes a quantitative determination. As we have seen, science has two chief phases : the one where it takes its rise in becoming objec- tive; the other where it attains its perfect form in becoming quantitative. Statistics halts at the first, while thinking to reach the second. To see that this is so, in spite of appearances, in spite of columns of figures and the imposing array of calculations, we will take a moral and social fact of high importance — human liberty. An attempt has been made to study it by means of statistical data. Quelelet in his Physique Sociale, and after him Buckle in his His- tory of Civilization, have used these with great ability. They have shown that the amount of crime in general, and of each species of crime in particular, varies much less than is supposed ; that in the beginning of each year, supposing the circumstances to remain the same, we might almost predict with certainty the numb3r of crimes 192 Heredity. that will be committed in each country during the year. If we look into the French criminal reports and compare several years, we shall be surprised to find that various crimes and offences, classed under a score of heads, oscillate within very restricted limits. The number of suicides, too, is much the same for each year ; in five years it varied in London between two hundred and thirteen and two hundred and sixty-six. Nay, even occurrences which might appear to be governed entirely by chance, and to result from pure stupidity, are not without regularity. It has been shown that in London and in Paris about the same number of letters without an address are posted every year. I have no wish to discuss here whether or no we are free agents, nor whether that problem can be resolved by the present method. My object is only to inquire whether it can lead to quantitative determination — that is, to absolute certitude. It is plain that it cannot do so. When we are told that the statistical method enables us to predict the number of murders, larcenies, suicides, marriages, etc., the meaning is that they are foreseen in the gross and approximatively ; but in true quantitative knowledge nothing is determined in the gross or approximatively. Given a great man in a family, does any one imagine that by means of Gallon's averages we can determine how many illustrious brothers, sons, or nephews he will have, with as much certainty as we can calculate the day and the hour of an eclipse ? It is, therefore, a mistake to fancy that because mathematical processes are employed we can arrive at mathematical certainty. The real service rendered by figures is this : there is a multitude of scattered facts, which have no visible connection, and appear to be perfectly fortuitous. The statistician compares these to- gether, and discovers in them uniformities, or, in other words, laws. And as from uniformity of effects we may infer uniformity of causes ; as from moral and social facts we can ascend to the psychological states from which they result, the consequence is that statistics can be of service in the study of morals and even of psychology. By grouping together certain phenomena of social life it gives us a means by which we can verify and check our conclusions ; it gives to the purely subjective views of the mind the means of acquiring an objective value, and so of passing from Essays in Statistics. 193 the conjectural to the scientific state. It supplies the psychologist and the moralist with materials — with observations and experi- ments. But this is only the beginning of science, not its perfection. And, indeed, how could it be expected, in the present state of the moral sciences, that figures could solve every problem ? The philosophers of the present century have shown (and the positivist school have performed a fair proportion of the work) that the sciences are not isolated systems of doctrine, each detached from each, but that there exists among them an hierarchical subordina- tion, so that the more complex rest on the more simple, and pre- suppose them. The mathematical, physical, biological, moral, and social sciences represent so many phases of a continuous process, which advances from the simple to the complex. Social pheno- mena presuppose thought and sensation ; these presuppose life ; life presupposes physical and chemical conditions ; physical and chem- ical facts presuppose mathematical conditions, time, space, and quantity, which are simply the most vague and general conditions of existence. In this series of an increasing complexity, and of a decreasing comprehensiveness, it would be folly to imagine that the superior science could exist before the inferior science were constituted. But quantitative determination exists only in mathe- matics, and to some extent in physics ; it has not yet penetrated into biology ; how, then, could it have attained to the moral and social sciences? It is, perhaps, doubtful if it will ever reach them. Number is an instrument at once too coarse to unravel the delicate texture of these phenomena, and too fragile to penetrate deeply into their complicated and multiple nature. With all its apparent precision it stops at the surface of things, for it can give us only quantity, which is a very unimportant thing as compared with quality. In short, this statistical research into heredity fails to do what it promised. Yet, by comparing facts and grouping figures, it arrives at the same result as ourselves, but by another route : it establishes psychological heredity, and the objective reality of its laws. i 94 Heredity. CHAPTER IV. EXCEPTIONS TO THE LAW OF HEREDITY. THE study of the laws of heredity would not be complete with- out an examination of the exceptions. Nothing gives a clearer notion of the nature of a law, than a knowledge of its anomalies. Here, especially, this is indispensable, for the infractions of hereditary transmission are so numerous and so striking, that from time to time we ask with hesitation if the law exists at all beneath the phenomena which conceal it On considering these difficulties, we shall understand why the author of the most famous work upon this subject should have set up over against heredity an equal and contrary law, that of innateness, which as he considers explains all the exceptions. Before discussing this hypothesis, and showing how heredity may explain the exceptions no less than the regular cases, we will, as usual, begin by a statement of facts. In the physiological world, these exceptions are readily shown in the internal or external structure, the physiognomy, the stature, constitution or temperament. Though, generally, brothers and sisters have a family likeness, it is not rare that there is between them such a diversity of feature and countenance that no external sign would indicate their com- mon blood. This difference is sometimes seen even in twins. Sinibaldi asks ' how it comes that at Rome ugly boors and women from the dregs of the people, with hideous features, produce sons and daughters of surprising beauty, and of such perfect form that their equals are not to be found in the palaces of nobles, or in the courts of princes.' l Fathers and mothers of erect form, none of whose families have ever been misshapen, produce children hunchbacked and de- formed. Deformed parents have had perfectly straight children. Parents of middle height sometimes beget tall children, while other 1 Might not this be a fact of atavism ? Exceptions to the Law of Heredity. 195 parents, of good station, in good health, and belonging to families of good constitution, beget children of very low stature. A man had by his wife eight children, of whom four were dwarfs. Bebe, the famous dwarf of King Stanislas, and whose height was thirty- three inches, was born in the Vosges of well-formed, vigorous, healthy parents. The celebrated Polish gentleman, Borwslaski, whose height was twenty-eight inches, had a brother and sister, dwarfs like himself, and three other brothers, each five feet six inches in stature.1 Such idiosyncrasies as the predominance of some one organ, one of a viscus, or even of an entire system of organs, likewise present curious instances of spontaneity. Family constitutions, as P. Lucas remarks, very often begin with individuals, and the most rooted constitutions, those that are most general in families, are yet not those of all the members. We may quote especially, as remarkable facts of spontaneity, those called by Zimmermann exceptions in temperament He has gathered several examples ; as, for instance, of a man who suffered extreme agonies when his nails were clipped ; another when his face was washed with a sponge. For some persons coffee is an emetic, jalap a constipant Hachn could not eat more than seven or eight strawberries without falling into convulsions, and Tissot could not swallow sugar without vomiting. But there is no need to cite a large number of such facts, if the reader will bear in mind that peculiarities of organization — con- genital or natural varieties — are necessarily exceptions to the law of heredity. Thus polydactylism, ectrodactylism, harelip, and all deformities of a similar nature, begin by a deviation from the specific type. The celebrated case of Edward Lambert, ' the man- porcupine,' may be remembered, whose parents were healthy and well formed, but he transmitted his singular carapace to his chil- dren. Thus we see from facts that heredity imposes its law even on its own exceptions. Among animals all races which are not due to intercrossing, but which spring from spontaneous variation, are at once the result of innateness and heredity : of the former for their origin, of the latter 1 Lucas, i. ioJT; Burdach, ii. 427. 196 Heredity. for their continuance. Thus it is with the hornless bulls, or of the Argentine Republic, with rumpless fowls, bantams, etc. If we pass from the physiological to the psychological order we shall find no less striking instances of spontaneity. Phrenologists have accumulated facts to show that among animals, where we see only uniformity of habits, characters, and physical aptitudes, there exist between members of the same family individual differences, which, as they do not result from education, are due to spontaneity. In a litter of wolf cubs taken from their dam, says Gall, and which were all brought up in the same way, one became tame and gentle like a dog, while the others preserved their natural savagery. In twins there sometimes occur extrejne contrasts of tastes, propensities, and ideas. This was observed by the ancients : Castor gaudet equis, ovo prognatus eodem Pugnis. What is still more curious is, that double monsters, when they survive, may possess different psychical constitutions. Serres ob- served this in the case of Ritta and Christina, the female twins of Presburg, who were united by the inferior lumbar vertebrae. They differed completely in character. One was handsome, gentle, sedate, with sensuous character little marked ; the other ugly, ill- conditioned, quarrelsome, and of strong passions. Her outbursts of rage against her sister, and their disputes became so frequent, that in the convent where Cardinal von Saxe-Zeits had placed them, the inmates were compelled to give them in charge of a watcher, who never left them alone. Notwithstanding these quarrels, they lived to the age of twenty-two. It has been said that the law of spontaneity cannot be disputed, since we see the sons of great men unworthy of them. By what singular freak of nature did two fools like Paxalos and Xantippos, and a maniac like Clinias, spring from Pericles ? or from the upright Aristippos, the infamous Lysimachos? from the grave Thucydides, a silly Milesias or a stupid Stephanos? from the temperate Phocion, the dissolute Phocus? from Sophocles, Aris- tarchos, Socrates, and Themistocles unworthy sons? And the like differences are to be found in Roman history : Cicero and his son, Germanicus and Caligula, Vespasian and Domitian, Marcus Exceptions to the Law of Heredity. 197 Aurelius and Corumodus. In modern history, 'it is enough to mention the sons of Henri IV.,' says Lucas, ' of Louis XIV., of Cromwell, of Peter the Great; as also those of La Fontaine, Crebillon, Goethe, and Napoleon.' l We do not, however, accept these cases as facts conclusive of spontaneity. The greater part of them are doubtful, and many of them are false. It is not enough to say, Such an illustrious man has mediocre sons, in order to conclude that therefore heredity is at fault A son who does not inherit from his father, may perfectly do so from his mother. As we have already seen, this case is so frequent that some authors have regarded it as a rule. Among the examples cited by Lucas, there are some in which the maternal heredity is clear, as Commodus, Louis XIII., Goethe, Napoleon. And it is probable in the case of others in the list, especially those taken from Greek history, that if we had precise data regarding the wives of those great men, or their immediate ancestors, it would be easy to show that these obscure or dissolute personages have inherited from their mothers, or of their grand-parents. Thus heredity would recover a large number of facts which have been wrongfully removed from its domain. However, we would not deny that there are exceptions, and very important exceptions. But the conclusive way to establish them is, not to show that a great man has mediocre children, which proves nothing, but that a great man has sprung suddenly from an obscure family. Nor is this case rare. ' Often,' says Burdach, ' the parents possess very limited intellectual faculties, while all their children display abilities of the first order. From simple parents often spring those superior men, those minds whose influence is felt for thousands of years, and whose presence was a need for humanity at the moment when they entered life. The greatest men have belonged to lowly, poor, or obscure families,' In the negro race, whose lack of capacity is recognized, anthro- pologists have noted individuals possessed of remarkable faculties. Toussaint L'Ouverture was certainly no ordinary politician. Ac- cording to Pritchard, even the stupid Esquimaux and Greenlanders can produce men of intelligence. 198 Heredity. A peculiar conformation of certain organs of sense, or a total lack of them, are facts at once both of physiological and psych- ological spontaneity. There are some persons whose eyes are unable to discern some given colour — blue, red, yellow, etc. Others are born blind of parents possessed of perfect vision. Deaf-muteness in many cases cannot be explained by anything in the parents. Physicians cite many examples of families where the parents both hear and speak very well, while their children are all born deaf and dumb. Finally, the taste and the smell are sometimes struck with anaesthesia, or complete insensibility, which cannot be ex- plained by hereditary transmission. We will, in conclusion, glance at psychological idiosyncrasies, and exceptional mental facts. Psychology, even as physiology, has its rare cases, but unfortunately not so much pains have been taken to note and describe them. Not to speak of insanity, idiocy, or hallucination, which may occur, apparently at least, without visible antecedent in the progenitors, there are some purely moral states which are met with in a certain class of criminals — murderers, robbers, and incendiaries — which, if we renounce all prejudices and preconceived opinions, can only be regarded as psychological accidents, more painful and not less in- curable than those of deaf-muteness and blindness. We have given sundry instances of these anomalies, and of their heredity ; but they also frequently occur in the shape of isolated and nontrans- mitted cases of moral monstrosity. These creatures, as Dr. Lucas says, partake only of the form of man; there is in their blood somewhat of the tiger and of the brute : they are innocently criminal, and sometimes are capable of every crime. l IL Having shown by facts of every kind that there exist grave exceptions to the law of heredity, we have now to explain them. As we have seen, it is perfectly clear and unquestionable that heredity is the law ; that this cannot be doubted ; and that even in those cases which we qualify as exceptions, the exception is 1 See several instances of moral monstrosity in the work of Dr. Despine already quoted, vols. ii. and iii. Exceptions to the Law of Heredity. 199 never more than partial : for even where heredity does not transmit the individual characters, it at least transmits the specific characters. The question, therefore, is not to ascertain whether heredity is a biological law, but whether that law is absolute. As the excep- tions are no less unquestionable than the law, and as they must necessarily have a cause, there can be but two hypotheses. a. We may hold that there is in nature an essential, permanent cause, of which the phenomena of spontaneity are the effects — in other words, that the biologic fact of generation is governed by two laws, one of spontaneity, the other of heredity, the law being only the expression of what is constant in the production of phenomena — the invariable relation between cause and effect. This is the thesis maintained by Dr. Lucas. /3. Or we may say that the causes of spontaneity are only acci- der'.al; that it is never more than a chance, the result of the fortuitous play and concurrence of natural laws ; but that it is not the effect of any distinct and special law. On this theory there would be one law of heredity with its exceptions, not two laws, the one of heredity, the other of spontaneity. This second thesis is our own. But before demonstrating it we must consider the oppo- site opinion. Of this Dr. Lucas has given a full exposition, applying to it philosophic principles. He holds that every living being, con- sidered in its origin — that is, in its generation — is the product of two laws, which he places both on one plane and on the same level. One is the law of spontaneity, by which nature ever creates and invents. The other is the law of heredity, by which nature ever imitates and repeats herself. The former is the principle of diversity, the latter of resemblance. If the former stood alone, there would be in the world of life nothing but differences infinite in number; if the latter stood alone, we should have nothing but absolute resemblances. But taken together, these two principles explain how all living things of the same species may at the same time resemble one another in their specific characteristics, and differ in their individual characteristics. If we regard the question here proposed from a metaphysical point of view, it cannot be denied that a difficult, and probably an insoluble, problem arises. In the middle ages, it was hotly 2oo Heredity, debated under the singular titles of ' the problem of individua- tion,' of ' hoccity,' and of 'haeccity.' This barbarous jargon has been ridiculed, but yet, if we turn from words to things, we can- not deny that this problem pressed upon the schoolmen, and was of paramount importance. Modern philosophy, as it seems to us, has been far more concerned with what is general — laws, genera, species — than with what is individual. Now, if we are hence led to consider what is general as the true reality, the logical conclusion is that the individual is only a momentary phenomenon, of no importance, the ephemeral result of laws which intersect and combine in a thousand ways during the end- less evolution of the universe. To use the words of Dr. Lucas, we should have to affirm resemblance by rejecting diversity : heredity would be the law, spontaneity the exception. If, on the other hand, we regard the individual as a reality, as a sort of nomad, governed and hemmed in on all sides by the laws of nature, but whose essential, impenetrable being is never modified, then we set diversity above resemblance, and sacrifice heredity to spontaneity. We have here undertaken only a study of experimental psych- ology, and hence we need not discuss this difficult metaphysical problem. We may note, in passing, that if we descend to the ground of experience, it is impossible to deny absolutely the exist- ence of diversity, for it is demonstrated by facts. There are in nature no two beings alike. When we see a large flock of sheep we may regard most of them as copies of one another, but the practised eye of the shepherd can distinguish each one. The courtiers of Alfonso X. sought in vain for two leaves like each other. But though diversity exists, we do not believe that it is only explicable by a special law. If we consider the act of generation under the simplest possible conditions, as a single being engendering another, without the intervention of any disturbing cause, it is absolutely impossible to conceive how the product could differ from the producer ; for there is no reason for admitting one deviation rather than another, such deviation would be an effect without a cause. Linnaeus' aphorism, like produces like, strikes us therefore with all the evidence of an axiom. But in reality the process docs not take Exceptions to the Law of Heredity. 201 place with such ideal simplicity. In the first place, there are ordinarily in the act of generation two sexes, and consequently two antagonistic heredities ; this is the first cause of diversity. There are, furthermore, accidental causes which are in action at the very moment of generation ; and this is another cause of diversity. Finally, there are external and internal influences subsequent to conception. It is clear, says M. Quatrefages, that in every procreation the parents import influences which may be ranged in the following three orders of facts : their characters may be similar, or opposite, or different In the first case there will be a persistence or an augmentation of the characters transmitted ; in the second a diminution of them, or a reciprocal neutralization. Suppose two parents, one of them presbyopic and the other myopic ; the child will have the chance of good sight, in consequence of the conflict of opposite influences. In the third case, if the characters are simply different, the product is the resultant of the father and mother ; that is to say, a new character appears, differing from the other two, though due to heredity. Thus, among animals, when the parents are of uniform different colours, the progeny very often have the skin mottled, parti-coloured, or striped, and consequently very different from that of the father and mother. Thus heredity, in virtue of its fundamental law, may play the part of this force of spontaneity devised by Lucas. We hold that there are cases of spontaneity which result from natural causes ; we do not admit a law of spontaneity. Indeed Lucas's hypothesis is contradictory. To understand how little spontaneity possesses the character of a law, we need but observe that a law is identical with the phenomena it governs, since it is only the expression of what in them is permanent and essential, so that it enables us to fore- tell them. If the law of heredity may be supposed to be alone in operation, without disturbing influences, it may be predicted that the product will resemble one of the parents, or both. But sup- pose a law of spontaneity, no prediction or provision is any longer possible, since anything whatever may occur where diversity is the rule. This is permanent disorder. But it is impossible from this to deduce a law. A law is declared by a process of abstraction and generalization, which cannot be applied to cases which are 2O2 Heredity. totally diverse, since the very object is to find resemblances and to eliminate differences. All scattered facts, all diversities which cannot be grouped together, are called anomalies, or facts without laws. We may, therefore, speak of facts of spontaneity ; but a law of spontaneity is a contradiction in terms. Where, ex hypothesi, there are no two facts which resemble each other, we may in strictness admit the arbitrary intervention of a creative power, but in no degree the regular and constant action of a law. It is therefore impossible to recognize two antagonistic laws, the one heredity, the other spontaneity. And we may add that theories of our own day concerning the origin of species and their evolution, do not admit of anything like a law of spontaneity. Besides selection and heredity, which are the chief factors in this transformation, they do, indeed, presuppose what Wallace calls ' the tendency of varieties to depart indefinitely from the original type;' but this tendency, which is the prime source of all variation, is owing to the action of surrounding conditions — that is to say, of accidental and fortuitous causes — but by no means to an unintelli- gible entity such as the hypothetical law of P. Lucas. III. If, then, there is no law of spontaneity, we have only to recognize in the foregoing facts exceptions to the law of heredity. We can only explain these by attributing them, not to a single cause, but to causes. No doubt it is far simpler to say, whenever heredity is at fault, This is the result of spontaneity; spontaneity causes the sudden appearance of such a great man — of such a great criminal — in a given family; but the simplicity of the explanation is of little account, if it is imaginary. In truth, there is no problem more difficult and more complex than that of accounting for these exceptions, and of pointing out how heredity may be so trans- formed as to become unrecognizable. In the present state of physiology and psychology it is impossible to explain these excep- tional cases in a complete and satisfactory manner. We get but an indistinct view of the explanation. The doctrine which regards heredity as the absolute rule, beyond which are only anomalies, is very ancient Aristotle taught it in its strictest form. ' He who does not resemble his parents,' says Exceptions to the Law of Heredity. 203 he, 'is a sort of monster, for in him nature departs from her specific form ; this is the first step in degeneration.' The authors who in modern times have adopted this opinion, attribute these exceptions to various causes, which may be ranged under three heads, according as they act after birth, before birth, or at the moment of conception. 1. We are inclined to assign but little importance to causes acting after birth, such as diet, climate, circumstances, education, physical and moral influences. They often produce serious effects, but it is not possible for them to produce the radical transforma- tions we are now considering. This proposition, upheld by Bossuet, Helvetius, and by the writers of the eighteenth century, resulted from the philosophy of that period. But there is now no need to prove that spontaneity is not to be explained by external and late-acting causes, and we no longer believe with Helvetius that we can manufacture great men by means of education. 2. The causes anterior to birth, but subsequent to conception, are all the physical and moral disturbances of uterine existence — all those influences which can act through the mother upon the foetus during the period of gestation ; impressions, emotions, defective nutrition, effects of imagination. These causes are very real, despite the objections of Lucas, who attacks them in order to establish his law of spontaneity. We shall see from examples that between inconsiderable causes and their effects there exists an amazing disproportion. 3. Finally, there are causes anterior to intra and extra-uterine life, which act at the instant of conception. These depend less upon the physical and moral natures of the parents than on the particular state in which they are at the moment of procreation. ' One fact which fully proves the universality of the law of heredity,' says M. de Quatrefages, ' is the frequent transmission from parent to child of the actual and momentary state of the former at the instant of conception. This fact had attracted the attention of physicians and philosophers, but it had been exaggerated. They went so far as to assert that the past history of the parents was as nothing in the constitution of the child, who, according to them, depends altogether on the state of the parents at the moment of procreation. On the other hand, modern writers had lost sight of 2O4 Heredity. this class of phenomena, and P. Lucas did well in calling fresh attention to the matter, and citing facts in its favour. 'It has been long remarked that children begotten in a fit of intoxication often present for ever after the characteristic signs of that state : obtuse senses, and the almost total absence of the intellectual faculties. I had occasion at Toulouse, during my brief medical career, to observe a fact of this kind. A couple of artisans, man and wife, belonging to families all of whose members were of sound mind and body, had four children. The first two of these were quiet and intelligent, the third was half-idiotic and nearly deaf, and the fourth was like the elder two. From details communicated to me by the mother, who was much afflicted by the mental state of her child, I learned that it had been conceived when the father was brutalized by drink. By itself, this fact would have little or no significance, but when added to those collected by Lucas, Morel, and others, it is of very great importance.' * In fact, it enables us to understand that those transitory states which exist at the moment of conception may exert a decisive influence on the nature of the being procreated, so that often, where now we see only spontaneity, a more perfect knowledge of the causes at work would show us heredity. But it may be said that the causes classed under the foregoing heads explain the exceptions very insufficiently. It may be said : We have no hesitation in admitting that heredity, like every other law, is subject to conditions; that since these conditions are numerous and delicate it is impossible to realize them perfectly, and that consequently hereditary transmission always falls far beneath its ideal. But is it not going too far to pretend, as you do, that transitory, accidental causes can produce in the beings that are procreated-radical metamorphoses ? We can understand how from parents of but mediocre intellect should spring a child more intelligent than they ; but could a man of genius ? How could a consummate scoundrel descend from honourable and honest parents ? And there is a multitude of such cases. Without pretending to give a conclusive answer, we propose to set before the reader a certain number of facts and reflections 1 Qualrefa^es, Unitf de F&splce Humaine. Exceptions to the Law of Heredity. 205 which appear to bring under the law of heredity the most refrac- tory cases, the most formidable exceptions. By penetrating farther into the vital and mental dynamism of man, we shall probably have a glimpse of that mysterious elaboration whereby unity produces diversity, and causes give rise to effects very dissimilar to themselves. We shall then see how heredity seems to disap- pear, when it cannot be grasped. These obscure causes of deviations from heredity may be reduced under two heads : — 1. Disproportion of effects to causes. 2. Transformations of heredity. IV. If we take up any engine of simple structure, such as a win- nowing machine, a plough, or a scarifier, and some slight injury befalls it, it is probable that it will not be less serviceable : a trifling cause produces only trifling effects; effect and cause are mutually equivalent, and there is in their relation nothing sur- prising. But if the one in question is a complicated engine, such as a locomotive, or a factory engine, the case is very different ; here an insignificant cause may produce terrible effects : the engine may run off the rails, an explosion or a fire may take place. Between causes and effects there is a disproportion which experi- ence alone reveals. If now we consider, instead of a mechanism constructed by the hand of man, those natural mechanisms called organisms, where wheelwork and arrangement extend to even the minutest details, then the disproportion between effects and causes will become enormous; a drop of prussic acid or the puncture of a carbuncle will throw the machine out of order in a few hours. Finally, in that mental mechanism — which is still more complicated, and where the impulses, tendencies, forces, conscious and unconscious processes, do but attain that momentary equili- brium which we call the actual state of consciousness — the dispro- portion between causes and effects transcends all assignable limits. A rush of a little alcoholized blood to the brain, the fumes of opium or hasheesh may produce the most surprising results in the mental machine. A few drops of belladonna or of henbane give rise to fearful visions. A little pus accumulated in the brain, a 206 Heredity. lesion so slight that the microscope can scarce detect it, gives rise to mental disorganizations called delirium, insanity, monomania. In short, we may lay it down as a general truth, solidly based on experience, that the more complicated the mechanism, the greater the disproportion between accidental causes and their effects. The study of anomalies, and the artificial production of mon- strosities, afford us convincing proofs of this truth. The researches of Geoffroy Saint-Hilaire and of Dareste have shown that it is possible to produce monsters at will, and that these deviations from the type are brought about by trifling causes. Hens' eggs when set on end, or in any way disarranged, produce monstrous chickens. And the same thing occurs if the eggs be shaken, or perforated, or partially coated with varnish. Isidore Geoffroy Saint-Hilaire shows that women of the poorer class who are obliged to work hard during pregnancy, as also unmarried women who are forced to conceal their pregnancy, far more frequently than other women give birth to monsters. ' Certain monstrosities,' he writes, 'are often caused by lesions which happen to the embryo in the uterus or in the ovum. Yet it would seem that complex monstrosities are more often determined at a later period than at the beginning of embryonic life. This may in part result from the fact that a point which suffered injury in the origin of the phenomenon, afterwards by its anomalous growth, affects the other points of the organism which have afterwards to be developed.' His Hisloire des Anomalies, to which we would refer the reader, is full of curious facts, well fitted to stimulate thought It will be seen that insignificant causes are sufficient to effect either a fusion of homologous parts, or inequalities of develop- ment— checks to growth ' which make anomalous beings, in some respects, permanent embryos, in which nature has halted half-way.' In presence of such facts, it is not possible to accept futile explanations which have only an appearance of simplicity : for instance, ' As is the effect, so is the cause ; there must exist in the cause at least as much as in the effect' Such explanations are available only in very simple cases, or at best in complicated cases of a purely mechanical kind. According to a profound remark of John Stuart Mill, whenever an effect is the result of sundry causes (and nothing is more frequent in nature), we can have two cases : Exceptions to the Law of Heredity. 207 either the effect is produced by mechanical laws or by chemical laws. In the case of mechanical laws each cause is found in the complex effect, precisely in the same way as though it alone had acted : the effect of concurrent causes is exactly the sum of the separate effects of eac"h. On the other hand, the chemical com- bination of two substances produces a third, the properties of which are entirely different from each of the other two, whether taken separately or together : thus, a knowledge of the properties of sulphur and oxygen does not imply a knowledge of the proper- ties of sulphuric acid.1 But psychological laws are analogous, now to mechanical, now to chemical laws. It is even prob- able that the greater number of them are chemical. Hence it is impossible to proceed by deduction from causes to effects. Here experience alone can guide us. It is curious to notice that prior to the discoveries of modern chemistry the idea of a total dissimilarity between causes and effects, and, what is still more striking, between the composite and its component parts, seems to have been unknown to science, except perhaps the dreams of alchemists about the transmutation of metals. It would surely have been a surprise for the scientific men of that epoch had they been told, Here is oxygen, a gas without colour or odour, com- bustible, and the active agent of all combustion ; and here is hydrogen, another and a very different gas. Combine the two in definite proportions, and you will get a liquid which may be either the water you drink, or the mist on which is painted the rainbow. The chemistry of life, by showing us how inorganic matter is trans- formed into the plant, the plant into the animal ; how in the animal the organic matter returns by death to the inorganic world to recommence its course, has revealed to us metamorphoses far more astounding than those whose explication we seek. We may, then, regard it as certain that in the domain of life (including thought) a disproportion often exists between cause and effect which cannot be foreseen by reasoning, which is given us only by experience, and that it is a wholly gratuitous assertion to say, There is too much difference between such a fact and such another — between the simplicity of the one and the com- 1 Mill's Logic, book vi., iv., and book iii., vi 10 2o8 Heredity. plexity of the other — to allow of the one being the cause and the other the effect. This would be the place to consider the famous theory of the relations between genius and idiocy and insanity (Moreau of Tours, Lelut). In it we should find many arguments for our thesis on the disproportion between effects and causes in the physical world. But not to dwell on this point, we confess that most of the criticisms which have been made on this doctrine do not appear very conclusive. If the authors had maintained the identity of insanity and genius, as regards the facts which manifest them — as, for example, that the lucubrations of a madman are of equal value with the works of Newton, or of Goethe — the assertion would be so monstrous that we could only regard it as a joke. But what have they maintained? That the secondary causes, the organic conditions of genius and insanity, seem to be almost identical ; so that it is only by reason of accessory circumstances that a certain nervous organization produces grand, artistic, or scientific creations instead of expending itself on the dreams of a madman. Plainly, in order to reach a conclusion on this point we need a large number of well-attested, well-interpreted, and well-verified facts. But the only arguments that have been brought against this thesis are sentimental ones, which possibly are only prejudices ; and it is probable that if we knew clearly and scientifically the conditions on which genius is produced, we should find much to surprise us. In our opinion, what has excited most hostility against this doctrine is that unconscious materialism which leads us to attach so much importance to the organic conditions of phenomena. But, even though from the point of view of physiological experi- ence there existed between the causes of insanity and those of genius only insignificant differences, would there be any less difference between the two from the standpoint of psychological and social experience ? The analogy between the causes would in no degree change the enormous difference between the effects. Even were genius the result of a certain state of the cerebral mass, it would, nevertheless, still be the most exalted thing in the world. The diamond has not lost its value since it has been discovered that it is carbon. As John Stuart Mill well says, ' It is only for Exceptions to the Law of Heredity. 209 low minds that a great and beautiful object loses its charm by losing somewhat of its mystery, and discovering a part of the secret process whereby nature has given it birth.' If we reflect on the preceding facts, we shall, I think, agree that the exceptions to heredity, great as they may be, are less embarrass- ing than at first they seemed. Suppose two children as different as possible in psychical constitution : it is probable that if we could ascend to the causes of these differences, we should find them very simple. But unfortunately there is no mental chemistry by which we can transform these probabilities into certainty. v. We will now examine another cause of deviation from hereditary type, another source of diversity in the act of generation — the metamorphoses or transformations of heredity. This case is more simple than the preceding, to which, indeed, it may be referred as a species to its genus. Here we can trace the course of heredity, because the transition is not now from contrary to contrary, but from like to like ; no longer from genius to idiocy, from virtuous father to debauched son ; but from epilepsy to paralysis, from eccentricity to insanity. We might say that in the present case there are partial exceptions, and in the preceding case total excep- tions, were it not that we are anxious always to keep in view the important truth that there is never a total exception to heredity, the exceptions to it never going beyond the individual characteristics. The study of the transformations of heredity has been made in detail by Dr. Moreau, of Tours, in his Psychologic Morbide. To that work we refer the reader for particulars, and here extract from it only the facts of most interest for psychology.1 ' It shows an incorrect conception of the law of heredity,' says he, 'to look for a return of identical phenomena in each new generation. There are some who have refused to subject mental faculties to heredity, because they would have the character and intelligence of the descendants exactly the same as those of the progenitors ; they would have one generation the copy of the other that went before it, the father and son presenting the spec- 1 Physiolo^ie Morbide, pp. 108 — 193. aio Heredity. tacle of one being — having two births, and each time leading the same life, under the same conditions. But it is not in the identity of functions, or of organic or intellectual facts that we must seek the application of the law of heredity, but at the very fountain- head of the organism, in its inmost constitution. A family whose head has died insane or epileptic, does not of necessity consist of lunatics and epileptics ; but the children may be idiots, paralytics, or scrofulous. What the father transmits to the children is not insanity, but a vicious constitution which will manifest itself under various forms, in epilepsy, hysteria, scrofula, rickets. Thus it is that we are to understand hereditary transmission.' Dr. Morel, in his Traite des Degenerescences, published at about the same time, says in much the same terms : — We do not mean exclusively by heredity the very complaint of the parents transmitted to the children, with the identical symptoms, both physical and moral, observed in the progenitors. By the term heredity we understand the transmission of organic dis- positions from parents to children. Mad doctors have, perhaps, more frequent occasion than others for observing this hereditary transmission, as also the various transformations which are ex hibited in the descendants. They are aware that a simple neuro- pathic state of the parents may produce in the children an organic disposition which will result in mania or melancholy — nervous affections which in turn may give rise to more serious degeneracy, and terminate in the idiocy or imbecility of those who form the last links in the chain of hereditary transmission.' Speaking of the young inmates of houses of correction, Dr. Legrand du Saulle calls attention to an entire category among them of ' creatures who are whimsical, irritable, violent, with little intelligence, refractory, ungovernable and incorrigible.' These are the children ' sometimes of old men, blood relations, drunkards, epileptics, or lunatics. Sometimes, and this is the more frequent case, their father is unknown, and their mother is scrofulous, rickety, hysterical, a prostitute, or a lunatic.' l In the Psychologic Morbide will be found several cases of the transformation of heredity, taken from pathology and from history. 1 Gazette da HSpitaux, 6 Oct. 1867. Exceptions to the Law of Heredity. 211 Many of the biographical facts there given are not beyond criti- cism, but the following are a few of the most conclusive : — Frederick William of Prussia was the victim of a sort of insanity. He was an excessive drunkard, eccentric, brutal ; he several times attempted to strangle himself, and at last fell into a profound hypochondria. He was the father of Frederick the Great. ' We should seek in vain,' says Dr. Moreau, ' for a more striking proof of the relations subsisting between the neuropathic state and certain intellectual and affectional states, than in the family of Peter the Great. Genius of the highest order, imbecility, virtues and vices carried to extremes ; excessive ferocity, ungovernable maniacal outbursts, followed by remorse ; habits of debauch, pre- mature deaths, epileptic attacks — all these are found united in the Czar Peter, or in his family.' The Condes offer an analogous example. Talent, eccentricity, originality of character, moral perversity, rickets, and insanity, stand side by side, or succeed one another in the most unexpected way. We may recall what has been already said of the Pitt family. Lady Hester Stanhope, the Sibyl of the Lebanon, her father Lord Stanhope, her grandfather Lord Chatham, her cousin Lord Camel- ford, and Pitt her uncle, were all remarkable for their genius, their eccentricities, or their extravagances. Tacitus had an idiot son. The gloomy Louis XI. was grandson of Charles VI., a lunatic. Hoffmann, author of fantastic stories, had lunatics in his family, and was himself subject to hallucinations. If now we quit the ranks of illustrious men,1 and consider those of common stamp, we shall find in writers on insanity a great many cases of transformations of heredity, in all that concerns the psychical faculties. The lypemania of parents is seen to become a tendency to suicide in the children ; insanity becomes convul- sions or epilepsy, scrofula is replaced by rickets, and vice versd. Fixed ideas in the progenitors may become in the descendants melancholy, taste for meditation, aptitude for the exact sciences, energy of will, etc. The mania of progenitors may be changed in the descendants into aptitude for the arts, liveliness of imagination, 1 For further details see Psychologie Morbide, 3* partie. 212 Heredity. quickness of mind, inconstancy in desires, sudden and variable will. Just as real insanity, says Moreau of Tours, may be hereditarily reproduced only under the form of eccentricity, may be transmitted from progenitors to descendants only in modified form, and in more or less mitigated character, so a state of simple eccentricity in the parents — a state which is no more than a peculiarity or a strangeness of character — may in the children be the origin of true insanity. Thus, in these transformations of heredity we some- times have the germ attaining its maximum intensity ; and, again, a maximum of activity may revert to the minimum. We cannot say what are the causes of these metamorphoses, by what mysterious transmutation nature thus extracts better from worse and worse from better ; for the question is beyond the present range of science. We cannot tell why a given mode of psychic activity is transformed in process of transmission, nor why it assumes one form rather than another. Were the solution of the problem attainable, it would doubtless reveal some singular mysteries. Thus many physiologists have thought that when both parents present the same characteristics, heredity may acquire such power as to destroy itself. Sedgwick thinks that in this way the fact may be explained that two deaf-mute parents oftentimes give birth to children that can hear. In truth, we can only ascer- tain the facts : but this is quite enough, since the facts show by what concurrence of fortuitous circumstances and accidental causes nature produces diversity. But these metamorphoses, occurring between generation and generation, will cause us less surprise if we bear in mind that they are also frequent in the same individual. There is no doubt as to this point ; pathology supplies countless instances of it To restrict ourselves to mental diseases : ' Madness,' says Esquirol, ' may affect all forms, either successively or alternatively. Mono- mania, mania, and dementia, alternately replace one another in the same individual.' Thus a lunatic will pass three months in lypemania, the following three months in mania, four months in dementia, and so on in succession, now in regular order, anon with great variations. A lady, fifty-four years old, is one year lype- maniac, and the next year maniacal and hysterical. Often, in the same subject convulsions are seen to pass into epilepsy, epilepsy Exceptions to the Law of Heredity, 213 into hysteria, and vice vcrsb; or lypemania will take the place of pulmonary consumption, hysteria, hypochondria, epilepsy. To sum up briefly what has been said : M. Lemoine, in his study on Morbid Psychology, has made a very just criticism on this resort to two laws, the one of spontaneity and the other of heredity, both reciprocally supplying each other's defects. ' When the one is at fault,' says he, ' and puts the system in danger of failure, the other is hastily adduced, and everything is set right with a word. A madman's son is a madman : the law of heredity is invoked to explain his insanity. An idiot is born of parents and descends from ancestors who are all of sound body and mind : spontaneity is invoked to account for the fact' We hold, with Lemoine, that spontaneity thus understood is an occult quality, an explanation that explains nothing, like the Quia est in eo virtus dormitiva. But M. Lemoine, speaking of the reduction of spontaneity to heredity, adds : ' The reduction of these two laws to one is rather ingenious than legitimate, for it appears to me that the law of spontaneity should rather absorb the law of heredity. If we ascend from generation to generation, we certainly do not always find lunatics the children of lunatics, or idiots the children of epileptics. But at length we shall be more fortunate; probably in the distant past, not so far back as the deluge, we shall find a lunatic, or epileptic, or idiot, who is the child of parents and ancestors, sound of mind and body — in short, an idiosyncrasy. This idiosyncrasy, whatever it may be, is the starting-point, is the pattern after which nature has fashioned all the descending gen- erations. In creating this first case of disease, whensoever it appeared, nature acted freely. On the contrary, when she trans- mits disease as a heritage from fathers to children, she does but imitate herself, and copy her own model. The law of spontaneity explains the law of heredity, instead of being explained by it, if, indeed, it explains anything.' To our mind there is here a confusion of two questions, which it is important for us to notice : a metaphysical question regarding the first cause, and a scientific question concerning secondary causes. If we take metaphysical and transcendental ground — which we 214 -Heredity. do not here propose to do — spontaneity undoubtedly takes prece- dence of heredity, since it is clear that the derivative presupposes the primitive, and the imitation presupposes the model. But if, as now, we take our stand on the ground of science and experiment, heredity becomes the only law ; for it alone has a character of constancy, fixedness ; and because it alone is reducible to formulas. Whether we admit with Lamarck the spontaneity of a single type, or with Darwin of three or four types, or of a very great number with Cuvier, so soon as we quit that region of origins and enter the domain of experience we see that nothing subsists except by heredity. We have, therefore, to return to our starting-point Heredity is the law. It is no d priori conception, any more than the axiom, like produces like. It is the accumulated and generalized result of an innumerable mass of experiences. Facts prove that between the partus and the parens there is never anything more than individual differences, and that the immense majority of character- istics is always inherited. Thus, according to the standpoint which we take, it is equally true to say that the law of heredity is always realized, and that it is never realized. The heredity of the greater share of the characteristics is a thing of universal occurrence ; but the heredity of the sum of all the characteristics is never found. So that heredity, while it is the law, is always the exception. But no argument can be drawn from this; for it is a logical necessity that where the conditions of a law are not completely realized the law cannot attain its ideal. PART THIRD. THE CAUSES. Die Materialisten benuihen sich zu zeigen dass alle Phcenomene, auch die geistigen, physisch sind : mit Recht ; nur sehen sie nicht ein, dass alles Physiche andererseits zugleich ein Metaphysisches 1st — Schofcnhtmer. CHAPTER L GENERAL RELATIONS BETWEEN THE PHYSICAL AND THE MORAL. L To inquire into causes we must hazard hypotheses. This cannot be avoided; for though science begins with the investigation of laws, it is perfected only in the determination of causes. Here, too, as in every experimental study, we have only to deal with secondary and immediate causes, or, in plainer terms, with in- variable antecedents. As far as our purpose is concerned, to explain physiological heredity means to define an aggregate of conditions, of such a nature that if these conditions are present heredity necessarily follows, and when they are wanting heredity is invariably wanting. In what follows, therefore, there is no question of ultimate causes ; and, without inquiring here whether they are accessible or inaccessible to the human mind, we shall never speak of them except with the admission that we are entering on hypotheses. Heredity is only a special case of the great problem of the relations between physics and morals, as will more clearly appear in the course of this work. We can, however, note in advance, in a more precise way, the position of our question, by observing that every inquiry into the relations between physics and morals necessarily comprises two parts, the influence of the moral on the physical, and the influence of the physical on the moral. The pro- blem of heredity is concerned only with the latter. The influence of physics on morals manifests itself in many ways, of which we here consider one only, heredity. With this explanation we can now indicate the line of inquiry we shall follow in our study of causes. We shall, in the first place, examine in a very general way the relations between the physical and the moral, as the problem in its most general form necessarily governs all the particular cases. 2 1 8 Heredity. Then, passing from the abstract to the concrete, from theory to experience, we shall strive to show that every mental state implies a corresponding physical state. Thence we shall draw the conclusion that an habitual mental state, such as psychological heredity, must have as its condition an habitual physical state, such as physiological heredity. In the seventeenth century, the question of the ' union of soul and body ' was put in a form which rendered it insoluble. It was a problem of metaphysics. There were held to be two substances, body and mind ; between the two an abyss. All their character- istics were opposed ; then, as was to have been expected, it was found impossible to join together again what had been so thoroughly sundered. Since the time when the progress of physiology showed that the nervous system is the physical condition of moral phenomena, and that every variation in the one is coupled with a variation in the other, researches into the correlation of the physical and the moral have had a firm basis, for the reason that it has been possible to rest them on a something which is the body, even while it is the instrument of the soul. Thus is explained the invasion, ever widening since the seventeenth century, of neurology into psychology. Nor is this all. A further step in progress, which now appears to have been made by all partisans of experimental inquiry, consists in substituting for the metaphysical the experimental point of view, and for the antithesis of two substances the anti- thesis of two groups of phenomena. Hence the problem is no longer the relations between body and soul, but the relations between a group of phenomena pertaining to the unit which we call life, and the group pertaining to the unit called the ego. It is true that this way of putting the question simplifies it only by making it insoluble ; for when we restrict ourselves to experience, we renounce in advance all ultimate and absolute reason. But as the experimental sciences are strictly speaking made up of two things — facts and hypotheses — and as the human mind has an in- vincible tendency always to sacrifice the facts to the hypotheses, we, if we resist this tendency, run the risk of throwing away the booty for its shadow. Relations bet-ivccn the Physical and the Moral. 219 For us, who desire as far as possible to adhere to facts, it is clear that we can examine the general relations of the physical and moral only under the experimental form. But when we try to state the question without any of the prejudices of the average mind, which render it equivocal, or of metaphysics, which render it insoluble, the only tolerably precise formula we get is this : We distinguish in ourselves two groups of phenomena or operations ; those in one group are conceived as external, unconscious, subject to the twofold condition of space and time ; those in the other as conscious, internal, and successive. The correlation which we discern between the two groups consists in this, that certain modes of existence in one group are the habitual antecedents of certain modes of existence in the other ; for example, that sum of states of consciousness which we call a pain is accompanied by certain states of the organism, motion, play of the physiognomy, states of the viscera, and vice versA. A little belladonna, opium, or even alcohol, introduced into the circulation, produces certain deter- minate states of consciousness ; in a word, we observe between the two groups of phenomena relations, whether of invariable co- existence or of invariable succession. It appears to us that this is the only clear and unambiguous way of putting the question with which we are now occupied. Finally, when we strive to get a nearer view of the opposition between the two groups, we find that the higher or psychological group has for its fundamental character con- sciousness ; and thus the antithesis of physical and moral may without too great inaccuracy be regarded as the antithesis of the conscious and the unconscious. If, therefore, we should succeed in showing that this attribute of consciousness which characterizes one of the groups, and which consequently differentiates the two groups, does not belong to the higher group so essentially or so exclusively as it seems ; if we succeed in showing that operations which are considered specially psychological, such as feeling, enjoy- ing, suffering, loving, judging, reasoning, willing can in some cases be either absolutely or relatively unconscious, then the antithesis of physical and moral instead of being absolute would become relative, and the problem would present itself under a new aspect With a view to resolve it, we will endeavour to penetrate into the mysterious region of the unconscious. 220 Heredity. IL The psychological study of unconscious phenomena dates from scarcely half a century back, and is yet in its first stages. The school of Descartes and that of Locke — that is to say, the whole seventeenth and eighteenth centuries — expressly held that psych- ology has the same limits as consciousness, and ends with it What lies without consciousness is remanded to physiology, and between the two sciences the line of demarcation is absolute. Consequently, all those penumbral phenomena which form the transition from clear consciousness to perfect unconsciousness were forgotten, and not without injurious consequences, for hence came superficial explanations, and insufficient and incomplete views. The nature of things cannot be violated with impunity ; and as everything in nature forms series, continuity, insensible transitions, our sharp divisions are always false. If we did not lose sight of the fact that our subdivisions of universal science into particular sciences, how- ever useful and even indispensable, are always artificial and arbU trary on one side or another, we should be saved much idle dis- cussion. Thus, as regards the unconscious phenomena which pertain at once to physiology and psychology, it makes very little difference which of these two sciences is occupied with them, provided only that they be studied, and studied well. Leibnitz alone in the seventeenth century saw the importance of this. Less was not to be expected of the inventor of the infini- tesimal calculus, the apologist of the Lex continui in naiura, the man who in the highest degree possessed the faculty of insight By his distinction between perception (conscious) and apperception (unconscious), he opened up a road on which in our times most physiologists and psychologists have somewhat tardily entered. There is, however, as yet no comprehensive work on this question,1 and the undertaking would be no light one ; for a psychology of 1 The completes! and most recent work on this subject is Hartmann's Philosophy of the Unconscious {Philosophic des Unbcwussten, Versuch einer Welt- ansckauung, Berlin, 1869). The author takes a metaphysical point of view close to that of Schelling and Schopenhauer ; but he gives a good number of facts, some of which will be hereafter quoted. Relations between the Physical and the Moral. 221 the unconscious would have the same limits, and the same extent as ordinary psychology. It would be necessary to show — at least, as we view the matter — that most, if not all, of the operations of the soul may be produced under a twofold form ; that there are in us two parallel modes of activity, the one conscious, and the other unconscious. This study would require a volume. For our purpose it will suffice here to show by some positive facts what this unconscious activity is, and in what degree it can explain the correlation of the physical and the moral. Passing from the simple to the composite, from reflex action to unconscious cerebration, we will address our study of the uncon- scious to the nerve-centres in the following order, viz. spinal cord, rachidian bulb, annular protuberance, cerebellum, cerebral hemi- spheres. i. The spinal cord is regarded by physiologists under a two- fold aspect : as a conducting cord it transmits sensations to the brain, and brings back thence motor excitations ; as nerve-centre it is the seat of reflex action. Simple reflex action, which we may define to be a simple excitation followed by a simple contraction, is the first act of automatism, or of unconsciousness, that presents itself to us. Reflex action consists essentially in movement in a part of the body, called forth by an excitation coming from that part, and acting through the intermediary of some nerve-centre other than the brain. Proschaska, who was the first to study these movements, called them * phenomena of reflection of sensitive im- pressions in motor impressions.' If we examine here, from our own point of view, the reflex actions whereof the spinal cord is the centre, we shall find that their distinctive character is that they are automatic, unconscious, and, what concerns us far more closely, co-ordinated. * In those purely reflex reactions,' says Luys, 'which, owing to their automatism, possess that determined and necessary character which is peculiar to the mechanical contrivances of human industry, everything betrays a sort of predestined consensus between the centripetal impression and the centrifugal action which it calls forth, so essential to them is it to be regular and co-ordinate.' l A few facts will place this in 1 Rxherchcs sur It System: Ncrveux, p. 280. 222 Heredity. clearer light If, after having cut off the head of a frog, we pinch any part of its skin, the animal at once begins to move away, with the same regularity as though the brain had not been removed. Flourens took guinea-pigs, deprived them of the cerebral lobes, and then irritated their skin : the animals immediately walked, leaped, and trotted about, but when the irritation was discontinued they ceased to move. Headless birds, under excitation, can still perform with their wings the rhythmic movements of flying. But here are some facts more curious still, and more difficult of explan- ation. If we take a frog, or a strong and healthy triton, and sub- ject it to various experiments; if we touch, pinch, or burn it with acetic acid ; and if then, after decapitating the animal, we subject it again to the same experiments, it will be seen that the reactions are exactly the same ; it will strive to be free of the pain, to shake off the acetic acid that is burning it ; it will bring its foot up to the part of its body that is irritated, and this movement of the member will follow the irritation wherever it may be produced.1 We can hardly say that here the movements are co-ordinated like those of a machine ; the acts of the animal are adapted to a special end ; we find in them the characters of intelligence and will, a know- ledge and choice of means, since they are as variable as the cause which provokes them. If, then, these and similar acts were such that both the impres- sions which produce them and the acts themselves were perceived by the animal, would they not be called psychological ? Is there not in them all that constitutes an intelligent act, adaptation of means to ends, not a general and vague adaptation, but a deter- minate adaptation to a determinate end ? In the reflex action we find all that constitutes, in some sort, the very groundwork of an intelligent act — that is to say, the same series of stages, in the same order, with the same relations between them. We have thus in the reflex action all that constitutes the psychologic act except consciousness. The reflex act, which is physiological, differs in nothing from the psychological act, save only in this, that it is with- out consciousness. 1 For further details see Vulpian, Pkysiologie du Systtme Nerveux, pp. 417 — 428 ; it will there be seen that headless animals act precisely as though they had heads. See also Despine, Psychologie Naturdle, tome i. ch. vii. Relations between the Physical and the Moral. 223 On this obscure problem some say that 'where there can be no consciousness, because the brain is wanting, there is, in spite of appearances, only mechanism.' Others say that ' where there is clearly selection, reflection, psychical action, there must also be consciousness, in spite of appearances.' For the present, we will not join in this discussion. A German physiologist, however, quoted by Wundt, holds that he has by the following experiment proved the absence of all consciousness in the spinal cord. He takes two frogs, the one blinded, in order to diminish the number of impressions from without, and the other without its head. He places them in a vessel containing water at 20° Cent of tem- perature ; the two frogs remain perfectly quiet in their warm bath, But he gradually heats the water in the vessel, and then the scene changes. The non-decapitated frog appears to be ill at ease, changes its place, breathes with difficulty, and its sufferings become greater as the temperature rises. At 30° it makes all possible efforts to escape ; finally, at 33° it dies of tetanic convulsions. In the mean time, the headless frog remains quietly in its place ; ' the spinal cord slumbers, it does not perceive the danger.' The tem- perature goes on rising, the other frog is now dead, and still the headless one continues motionless. Finally at 45° its carcase rises to the surface, ' it is as stiff as a board.' Yet, perhaps, as Wundt observes, this experiment is not de- cisive ; first, because other experiments have given the opposite results. Moreover, the development of consciousness must neces- sarily depend on the entire organization, and it is quite possible that if a headless animal could live a sufficient length of time there would be formed in it a consciousness like that of the lower species, which would consist merely of the faculty of appre- hending the external world. It would not be correct to say that the amphioxus, the only one among fishes and vertebrata which has a spinal cord without a brain, has no consciousness because it has no brain ; and if it be admitted that the little ganglia of the invertebrata can form a consciousness, the same may hold good for the spinal cord. But not to insist on a point which cannot here be profitably discussed, we go on with our study of the phenomena of uncon- sciousness. 224 Heredity. a. The grey substance of the medulla oblongata has higher and more intelligent functions than those of the spinal cord. It governs certain muscular co-ordinated contractions which do not depend on the will, and which are often unconscious ; these acts are respiration, deglutition, simple exclamation, sneezing, coughing, yawning, and those muscular contractions which constitute the play of the physiognomy. If to the spinal cord and the medulla oblongata we add the annular protuberance, removing all the rest of the encephalon, the automatic acts produced are still more remarkable. Animals thus treated utter, when pinched, plaintive cries, having the true expression of pain. A rat with the cerebral hemispheres removed makes a sudden jump when one comes near him, and imitates the ' spitting ' of an angry cat Dogs and cats with the cerebral lobes removed will, if a decoction of colocynth be poured down their throats, make grimaces with their lips as though they would free themselves from a disagreeable sensation. Thus, then, the nerve-centres we have enumerated produce, in the absence of the brain, unconscious sensations of pleasure and of pain, of hearing and of taste. If to these we add the tubercula quadrigemina we shall have unconscious visual sensations. A pigeon with the cerebral hemi- spheres removed makes a movement of the head as though to avoid a danger that threatens, when the fist is suddenly brought close to it An experiment first made by Longet shows that the pigeon follows with its head the motions given to a lighted candle. All these phenomena are of the same nature as those which depend on the spinal cord, and suggest the same reflections. They are intelligent — that is to say, adapted to an end. At bottom they are identical with physiological acts, and differ from them only by this one character, that they are unconscious, or reputed as such. 3. The same remark also applies to the automatic phenomena dependent on the cerebellum. The function of that organ seems to consist in co-ordinating the muscular contractions which produce the various movements — 'a co-ordination which requires infinite science, that is utterly ignored by the mind.' 'I have often,' Relations between the Physical and the Moral. 225 says Despine,1 'admired this automatic science, when seeing a dog follow his master's carriage, leaping in front of the horse, passing between the wheels, while they are revolving at every rate of speed ; and all this without ever being touched either by the wheels or by the horse's feet What mathematical precision there must be in the action of the numerous muscles which concur to execute all these movements ! It all occurs without the volition of the animal, nor does he know how he performs it In man this automatic science strikes us as more wonderful still. Instrumentalists whose cerebellum is imperfect never can per- form a piece of music as they think it ought to be performed. Some highly intelligent men are very awkward, while other men of very moderate intelligence are possessed of very remarkable dexterity ; in point of address some inferior races may equal superior ones. To be a good horseman, a good juggler, a good rope-dancer, a good shot, the commonest grade of intelligence suffices; but there is need of very perfect automatic organs. It is not the shape of the hand that gives dexterity ; some hands that are very well formed are yet very unskilful, while some ill- shaped hands perform prodigies of dexterity. The hand and the fingers are only the instrument that operates.' To all these facts, which appear to denote an unconscious intelligence seated in the organism, and which we have referred to distinct nerve-centres, we might add others no less curious; such as the tendency by which the living thing attains its typical form, or, in case of lesions, restores and completes it. Some physiologists, Burdach for instance, see in this an unconscious instinct of individual conservation ; but most authors simply state these facts without explanation. We will not insist upon them, so that we may the sooner arrive at the unconscious operations of the brain. 4. Automatism was long considered as appertaining exclusively to the spinal cord and to the secondary nerve-centres. In England, it has been chiefly the researches of Carpenter and Lay- cock which have proved that the brain also possesses an auto- matic activity of its own, which they have called 'unconscious 1 Psychologie Naturell?, voL L p. 485. 226 Heredity. cerebration,' or, ' the soul's preconscious activity.' Here we touch the quick of our subject, since the brain, or at least the ganglionic matter spread over the surface of the hemispheres, is the seat of the highest and most complex psychological operations. But, as we have already remarked, there is no mode of mental activity which may not be produced under its unconscious form. Facts will prove this. But how are we to study these phenomena if they are with- drawn from our direct observation ? if, on the one hand, they are cognizable only by the consciousness, and if, on the other, they lie outside of consciousness ? We do not profess here to sketch a method whose processes vary, of necessity, according to the cases. Most commonly we reach them by induction, advancing from the known to the unknown. We arrive at the unconscious by ascer- taining the influence it may have on conscious life, just as we discover an invisible planet by the perturbations it produces. We infer the unconscious from its well-ascertained conscious results. If I am a somnambulist, and rise from my bed at night, dress myself, and sit me down at a table to write verses, I must, when I wake next day, admit that I am the author, because I see them in my own handwriting, though I may have no recollection of what has occurred; in other words, I infer, from the material result before my eyes, that my mind must have performed, in a certain interval of time, a certain number of very complicated operations which differ from ordinary psychological work in only one point, viz. that they are effected without consciousness. On entering upon the study of the facts, we meet with a group of morbid states, comprising natural and artificial somnambulism, ecstasy, catalepsy — all facts so common that there is no need to describe them. ' There are well-authenticated cases in which auto- matic action of this kind has not only produced results perfect of themselves, but has produced them by a shorter and more direct process than would have been thought possible in the waking state. The absence of every distracting influence seems to favour the uninterrupted action of the mental mechanism, if the phrase is permissible.' (Carpenter.) A thing not so well known is, that in a certain form of epilepsy the patient often goes on doing auto- matically, though consciousness is abolished, what he was doing at Relations between the Physical and the Moral. 227 the instant of the attack. Schrceder van der Kolk knew a woman who went on eating, drinking, or working, and who, on coming to her senses, had no recollection of what she had done. Trous- seau1 speaks of a young musician subject to epileptic vertigo, attacks of which lasted from ten to fifteen minutes, and who, during that interval, would continue playing the violin uncon- sciously. An architect who had long been subject to epilepsy was not afraid to mount the highest scaffoldings, though he had often had attacks when walking on narrow planks at great heights. No accident ever befell him ; when the attack came on he ran swiftly along the scaffolds, shouting his own name at the top of his voice. A few seconds later he would come to himself, and would then give his orders to the workmen. He would have had no idea of the strange way in which he had acted, had he not been told of it. If now we pass from the morbid to the normal state, and review all the forms of mental activity, distinguishing each after the man- ner of analytical psychology, we shall see that for every conscious form there is a corresponding unconscious one. The first forms of unconscious life must be sought for in the foetal life — a subject full of obscurity, and very little studied from the psychological point of view. We may hold, with Bichat and Cabanis, that though the external senses are in the foetus in a state of torpor, and though in the constant temperature of the amniotic fluid the general sensibility of the foetus is almost null, still its brain has already exercised perception and will, as seems to be evidenced by the movements of the foetus during the last months of pregnancy. But to take simply the adult man or animal. We shall first find, at the common frontiers of physiology and psychology, a notable group, that of the instincts, which of themselves alone constitute the psychological life of a great number of animals. If we con- sider these as composite reflex actions, the instincts form, as we have seen, the transition from simple reflex action to memory. With instinct we may couple habit, which resembles it in many respects, and is no less wonderful. Habit constitutes a true return 1 Trousseau, Lemons Cliniqua, i. 59, — in vol. ii. are cases no less curious. 228 Heredity. to automatism, and it is never perfect unless when it is entirely unconscious. These facts have long been recognized ; but here are some that have received less attention. In the group of the phenomena of sensibility we discern, both from their effects and directly, the existence of unconscious pleasure and pain, whence come our causeless joy and sadness. The instincts peculiar to man, such as modesty and shame, maternal love, presentiments, secret sym- pathies and antipathies, only become conscious exceptionally and incidentally ; yet we feel that all these instincts spring from the depths of our being, from the dim region of the unconscious. Nowhere is this fact more striking than in the sexual instinct, which, both in man and in animals, takes its rise prior to all experience. This instinct, which perhaps even determines individual selection, where it takes place, caused Schopenhauer to maintain ingeniously that love is the tendency of specific conservation, and that we must recognize ' in this daemon a certain unconscious idea of species.' In a word, are not the intellectual sentiments (those of the true and the false) an unconscious, half-perceived cognition? Every cognition is in its origin instinctive. The experimental method was instinctively anticipated by the alchemists before it was clearly per- ceived by Galileo and Bacon. What in medicine and the sciences is denominated diagnosis is an unconscious cognition. If we pass from phenomena of sensibility to intellectual oper- ations, we shall see that every mode of intelligence has its unconscious form. In the first place, the difference between con- scious perception and unconscious (or rather semi-conscious) impression is well known ; the sensorial nerve-centres can receive and preserve impressions which either never attain the state of consciousness or do so only after a time. Perception can exist only by the aid of two principal forms, space and time, and by certain processes which ultimately determine the position of the object in a certain point in space; and thus the unconscious serves as support and condition for conscious perception. We need say nothing of memory, which is altogether a form of unconsciousness, recollection being nothing but the transition from unconsciousness to consciousness. The latent association of ideas is a pheno- menon of the same k'.nd. The mind goes through a series of Relations between the Physical and the Moral. 229 operations of which consciousness holds only the two extremities. Finally, the highest creations of the imagination spring from the unconscious. Every great inventor, artist, man of science, artificer, feels within him an inspiration, an involuntary invasion, as it were, coming out of the depths of his being, but which is, as has been said, impersonal. All that comes under consciousness is results and not processes. The difference between talent and genius is the difference between the conscious and the unconscious. Artists, prophets, martyrs, mystics, all those who in any degree have felt the furor poeticus, have ever acknowledged their subjection to a higher power than their own ego, and this power is the unconscious overlapping the submerged consciousness. The mystics of every country and of every age put faith only in their unconscious knowledge, and it is not to be denied that they have brought back from the world of unconsciousness high and entrancing visions. The logical operations of the intellect, namely, judgment and ratiocination, may also be performed without consciousness. It is a known fact that after a night's rest the mind finds the materials of its work classed with an order that we should never have been able to give them, with all our industry and all our dexterity. Men of science of the first rank commonly foresee results by quick intuition — a thing which can only come from unconscious ratio- cination. 'The art of divining, without which it is almost impossible to advance ' (Leibnitz), is nothing but this. Every man, however mediocre the quality of his mind, is unconsciously guided by a hidden logic. A proper study of the unconscious would throw some light on the question of ' innate ' ideas, and on those fun- damental truths which we do not hesitate to admit under the unconscious form ; and would, in particular, explain the induction which presupposes a belief more or less vague in the uniformity of the laws of nature. Probably the difference between deduction and induction is only the difference between the conscious and the unconscious, so that, outside consciousness, the two processes would constitute only one, and that one would be deductive. As for the will, it derives ultimately from character, and the root of character is in the unconscious. And, to our mind, it is this that makes the question of the freedom ot the will insoluble, 230 Heredity. consciousness being incapable of giving us all the elements of the problem. We know motives and acts ; but that which causes the possible to become the actual is unconscious. * Languages,' says Turgot, ' are not the work of self-conscious reason.' If his age had understood this as he did, it would have discussed the origin of language less; above all, it would not have seen in it a conscious creation. The source of language is in the unconscious. ' Without language it is impossible to conceive the philosophic consciousness, or even human consciousness, and hence it is that it has never been possible that the foundations of language should be laid in a conscious manner. Still, the more we analyze language, the more clearly we perceive that it exceeds in depth the most conscious productions of the mind. It is with language as with all organic beings. We fancy that these beings come into existence, being produced by a blind force, and yet we cannot deny the intentional wisdom that presides over the forma- tion of each one of them.' l Many philosophers of our day have in other terms pronounced the same opinion as to the unconscious origin of language. In fact, we meet with a final manifestation of the unconscious in sociological phenomena, in history. A people arrives at conscious- ness only as it becomes civilized ; perhaps it was only in the last century that that ideal state was reached wherein the human race has clear consciousness of itself and of its history. Among primi- tive peoples, however, societies are formed, and a certain division of political powers and of vocations is made, though without any definite consciousness of the end or of the means. From this the consciousness of the species afterwards springs by degrees. The process of development is the same in the species as in the indi- vidual ; compare Homer with Aristotle ; Gregory of Tours with Montesquieu. Here, as everywhere, consciousness springs from the unconscious and presupposes it We have now, in the compass of a few pages, given a sketch of a question which would require a volume ; but, brief as it is, it is enough for our purpose. To sum up, we have seen that there is no psychological phenomenon, simple or complex, high or low, 1 Schelling, Einltitun% in die Philcsohhie der Mythologie. Relations between the Physical and the Moral. 231 normal or morbid, which may not occur under an unconscious form. In a word, we find in ourselves or in others, and we con- clude that there exists in animals, a great number of acts, often complex, which, as a rule, are willed, deliberated upon, conceived, felt — in short, accompanied by consciousness ; that is, by a more or less clear knowledge (i) of the means, and (2) of the end. In some cases the consciousness of the end to be attained, and of the means to be employed disappears : yet we know that the end has been attained, though we know it only through the effect produced. Such acts are unconscious. Two hypotheses only are possible to interpret these facts. 1. It may be said that consciousness is the habitual, though not indispensable, accompaniment of mental life ; that the intellect is by nature unconscious : that its essence consists in the co-ordina- tion of means, and its progress in a more and more complex, a more and more perfect, co-ordination ; but that consciousness is only a secondary phenomenon, though of the highest importance ; somewhat as the brain, which is the noblest of all the organs, is nevertheless only a complementary organ, superadded to the rest, though it is the noblest of all. This thesis has even been applied to physiology, when it has been said that the unconscious pheno- mena presuppose only nerve-currents terminating in the secondary centres (rachidian bulb, annular protuberance, tubercula quadri- gemina, etc.), while the conscious phenomena presuppose a second series of currents terminating in the ganglionic substance of the brain. In this way consciousness would be a fact of a higher order, but not indispensable to psychological life, which could subsist without it under all its forms. Consciousness would be like the intermittent flashes from the furnace of an engine, which allow us to see glimpses of a marvellous mechanism, but which do not constitute the mechanism. 2. On the other hand, consciousness may be regarded as being pre-eminently the psychological fact The operation which con- stitutes consciousness (Bewusstwerdeii), never being identical with itself through two consecutive moments, possesses every possible degree of clearness and of intensity ; consciousness increases and diminishes, but in its progressive decrease it never reaches zero : what we call the unconscious is only a minimum of consciousness 11 232 Heredity. The brain is the seat and the condition of clear consciousness, bat every secondary nerve-centre and every ganglion is conscious after its own fashion. This view, which is also based on physiology, holds that, inasmuch as sensibility is a histological, not a morpho- logical property, wherever there is a nerve-substance there must also be a more or less vague consciousness, and that the general consciousness of the creature is composed of these infinitesimal quantities, which are lost in it even while they constitute it We need not decide between these two hypotheses, nor are we competent to do so. We would merely show that, as far as tlif.y touch upon our subject, they both lead to the same conclusion. We have already said that the antithesis of the physical and the moral, considered in the phenomenal order, resolves itself into the contrast of the conscious with the unconscious, and we now see that, as we bring both groups together, the one encroaches on the other, so that it is impossible to say where the conscious ends and where the unconscious begins. For the present, we only observe that it would be premature to draw a conclusion before we have studied the purely psychological — that is, the conscious — pheno- menon. This we now proceed to do. in. We therefore now pass from phenomena of a mixed nature — half- physiological and half-psychological — to those which properly constitute intellectual life. But we must not forget that here we are concerned only with phenomena ; we know not what the mind is in itself, nor need we discuss that question here. We have merely to inquire whether psychological life may not in the last analysis be brought down to a few irreducible elements, given, or at least suggested, by experience, and whether there is any relation between the primordial facts of mental life and the primordial facts of physical life. Leaving, therefore, all questions as to the substance of the mind, which concern metaphysics, and all details as to its faculties and phenomena, which concern descriptive psychology, let us see to what ultimate form we may reduce the fact of conscience, or thought, considered as a phenomenon. It may be said generally, that to think is to unify and to diversify; to reduce phenomenal plurality to the unity of the Relations between the Physical and the Moral. 233 subject, and to realize the unity of the subject in a phenomenal plurality. Every act of thinking is definitely reducible to a per- ception of either differences or resemblances, that is to say, it resolves one into many, or reduces many into one. This double process of analysis and synthesis can be infinitely repeated and complicated, but it underlies all our intellectual operations, what- ever they may be. Contemporary psychologists have well shown that on comparing the phenomena of intelligence we find a true unity of composition, and that this essential unity of all intel- lectual phenomena consists in this, that always and everywhere we are integrating or disintegrating something. Their studies, which we need not detail here, enable us to pass from these rather vague considerations to a more precise knowledge of the fact of con- sciousness in its ultimate form. Since in every act of thinking there are necessarily two ele- ments, plurality and unity, we will examine these in order that we may see to what they are ultimately reducible. i. We will begin with the dividing element of thought Every one will readily admit that if we start from some very composite mental state — for instance, from the idea of a certain social system, or of a certain form of government — and then proceed by continuous analysis, constantly passing from the more to the less complex, from the less complex to the simple, from the simple to the most simple, we must, in traversing this descending series, finally arrive at primitive elements. Thus we are able to resolve our system into a sum of ratiocinations and relations, each ratiocination into a sum of judgments and relations, each judg- ment into a sum of ideas and relations, each idea into a number of images or of concrete forms from which it is drawn, and each image and concrete form into internal or external, subjective or objective, sensations. Sensation, therefore, would appear to be the primitive element upon which all rests, the molecule to which this complicated diversity may be reduced. The researches of physicists and of physiologists, however, have led some psychologists to ask whether sensation is indeed, as it appears to be, an irreducible phenomenon, and the reply has been in the negative. When treating of the so-called simple sensations of sound, colour, taste, smell, they found themselves in the same 234 Heredity. condition as chemistry once was when dealing with bodies sup- posed to be simple. Analysis has shown that the so-called primi- tive sensations are themselves composite. For the analysis of these sensations we refer the reader to recent treatises on psychology, giving here only a single example. We take some sensation usually esteemed irreducible; for in- stance, that of a musical note. It is known that if we cause a body to vibrate, and that the vibrations do not exceed sixteen in the second, we perceive a regular succession of identical sensations, of which each is a separate and distinct sound. But if the vibra- tions grow more rapid, these sounds, instead of being each apprehended as a separate state of consciousness, blend into one continuous consciousness, and that is the musical note. If the rapidity of the vibrations be increased, the quality of the sound varies, becoming sharper; and if the rapidity goes on steadily increasing, it becomes at length so sharp that soon it becomes inappreciable as sound. Nor is this all ; the researches of Helm- holtz have shown that the differences of tone between instruments (as the violin, the horn, and the flute) are owing to the fact that different harmonies are added to the fundamental note. These differences of sensations, known as differences of tone, are there- fore due to the simultaneous integration of other series, having other degrees of integration, with the original series. In plainer terms, the fusion of these primary noises in a single state of consciousness produces the sensation of a musical note ; and this fusion, combined with the principal note of other less intense vibrations, produces differences of tone. This analysis, summary and insufficient as it is, will enable us to understand how illusory is the apparent simplicity of the phe- nomenon we call sensation. The same is to be said of colours, tastes, odours, and in general of all sensations, though with some of them the analysis could not be carried so far.1 If, then, sensation is a composite phenomenon, it may, perhaps, be pos- sible to discover its primary element The most recent work written on this subject is Herbert ' * For details, see Helmholtz' Physiological Optics (Lehre von da- Tcncui^ fiit* dung) ; Herbert Spencer, Principles of Psychology, § 60. Relations between the Physical and the Moral. 235 Spencer's Psychology. Pushing his analysis beyond the very limits of consciousness to a final element, which is rather felt than seen, he finds ' the unit of consciousness ' in what he terms a ' nervous shock.' If we examine our various sensations, we shall see that in spite of their specific differences they possess one thing in common — the nervous shock which constitutes the basis of them all, and to which they all appear to be reducible. It is not possible to say precisely wherein consists this ultimate element, though a few examples may help us to form an approximate idea of it Thus, the effect produced in us by a crash which has no appreciable duration is a nervous shock. An electrical discharge traversing the body, and a flash of lightning striking the eye, resemble a nervous shock. The state of consciousness thus produced is in quality like that produced by a blow (leaving out of consideration the consequent pain), so that this may be taken for the primitive and typical form of a nervous shock. ' It is possible — may we not even say probable- — ' writes Herbert Spencer, 'that some- thing of the same order as that which we call nervous shock is the ultimate unit of consciousness ; and that all the unlikelinesses among our feelings result from unlike modes of integration of the ultimate unit' l We would observe, with the same author, that there is a perfect agreement between this view and the well-known character of nervous action. Experience shows that the nerve-current is inter- mittent, that it consists of undulations. The external stimulus does not act continuously on the sensitive centre, but sends up to it, as it were, a series of pulsations, so that, objectively, this phe- nomenon may be said to resemble what is subjectively called a nervous shock. It does not seem possible, in the analysis of consciousness, to push any farther the reduction of what we have called diversity, for the nervous shock is hardly a state of consciousness. From the synthesis of these shocks would come states of consciousness properly so-called — that is to -say, sensations and sentiments; and then by syntheses of sensations and sentiments, and by associations of iuiages, ideas, and relations, is built the whole edifice of our cognitions. 1 Herbert Spencer, Psychology, ib. 236 Heredity. 2. In the whole of the foregoing we have constantly spoken of synthesis, integration, fusion, association. How is this operation performed which reduces diversity to unity ? Does it result from the elements themselves? Are these syntheses formed after the manner of chemical combinations, and according to laws depen- dent on the quantity and the quality of the combined elements? Must we deduce the unity of the facts of consciousness from the unity of the vital phenomena, and look for the cause of mental synthesis in organic synthesis ? This would scarcely help us, for we know how difficult it is to explain physiological unity in the living being. The unity of the fact of consciousness is indisputable, and, to our mind, inexplicable, so long as we do not go beyond pheno- mena— that is to say, beyond the sphere of science. But, though we here treat of the composition of the mind, we desire in no respect to go beyond the phenomenology of the mind. We will, then, examine the different aspects of the question from the point of view of experience. The question which arises with regard to the unity of life arises again with regard to the unity of consciousness : whether it be an effect or a cause. We have seen that some physiologists, instead of regarding life as a cause on which the functions depend, place, on the contrary, all the reality in the functions of which vital unity is only a resultant or composite effect The same hypothesis has been introduced into psychology, and it is upheld by the following arguments. In psychology the idea of personality is fundamental, as in biology is the idea of individuality. But the person, the ego, the thinking subject, assumed as a perfect unity, is but a theoretic conception. It is an ideal which the individual approaches as he rises in the scale of being, but to which he never attains. Our personality breaks up into an infinity of sensations, sentiments, images and ideas, past or future ; it is only a synthesis, an aggre- gate, a sum that is ever undergoing addition and subtraction, but of which the whole reality is in the concrete events which com- pose it If we scan the whole biologic scale, we shall see that at the lowest grade, where there is simply life, the phenomena and the Relations between the Physical and tlie Moral. 237 functions have for their characteristic the fact that they are simul- taneous : digestion, circulation, respiration, the secretions, etc, with all their subdivisions, take place at the same time, and depend on one another. But if we pass from plants to the lower animals, and from them to the higher, we find added to the vital actions other actions which have a tendency to range themselves in simple succession, to be produced under the form of a series. These actions we call psychical. In the radiata, the mollusca, and the articulata, the psychical life has for its centres ganglia dispersed through the animal; the actions of these are very imperfectly co-ordinated, so that there is rather simultaneousness than succes- sion : hence their mental inferiority. This dispersion of psychical life explains the fact that if we cut in two or more pieces an earth- worm, a centipede, or a praying mantis, each piece of the insect moves and acts on its own account But in proportion as we ascend in the animal series, the nervous system grows more and more perfect, and the centres are co-ordinated with a view to a higher unity ; simultaneous action gives place to a more and more perfect succession, without however attaining it This fusion of simultaneousness with succession can never be complete ; and thus the tendency of psychical actions to take the form of a simple series is ever approaching this ideal, but never absolutely attains it We can also attack this problem of the unity of consciousness in another way. We have just seen that it necessarily occurs under the form of a series, a succession — that is to say, under condition of time. But time is measurable; and since to study is to measure, and as accurate science consists of measurement, it follows that consciousness in some degree comes under the cognizance of exact science. The experiments made on this subject are of recent date. Towards the close of the last century the Greenwich astronomers remarked that the various observers did not observe in the same way the coming of a star to the meridian. The variations some- times amounted to half a second. Bessel, of Konigsberg, was the first to suppose that this difference was owing to psychological causes, and he set himself to determine this error, or personal equa- tion. From observations made by astronomers, it resulted that some time elapses between the instant when an act '"s> performed 238 Heredity. and the instant when an attentive observer signals his perception of it Though the velocity of thought seemed to defy all measure- ment, still it has been determined by Helmholtz, Bonders, Hirsch, and Marey, by means of ingenious experiments. From these experiments it results that the velocity of impres- sions varies according to the individuals, and even for the same individual according to the temperature : at a low temperature the velocity of the nervous agent is less. Impressions travel from the periphery to the nerve-centres, and volitions from the nerve-centres to the periphery, with an average velocity of thirty metres per second. Between visual, auditory, and tactile impressions and the reaction of the hand showing that the perception has been per- ceived, there elapses one-fifth of a second in the case of visual impressions ; one-sixth in case of auditory impressions ; and one- seventh in case of tactile impressions. But, as Bonders remarked, this case is itself complex, and is resolvable into two psychical stages: (i) impression travelling from periphery to centre; (2) volition travelling from the centre to the hand. By some curious experiments he thinks he can prove that the simplest act of thought, the solution of a very easy dilemma, requires one-fifteenth of a second. Wundt, from experiments of his own, finds that the most rapid act of thought requires one-tenth of a second.1 The velocity of thought, and consequently the number of states of consciousness, vary considerably. In some dreams, and in the mental state produced by opium and hasheesh, this velocity is such that phenomena of consciousness which can have lasted only a few seconds appear, by an illusion that is easily explained, to have lasted several minutes or several hours. The well-known opium eater, De Quincey, had dreams which appeared to ' last ten, twenty, fifty, or seventy years, or even transcended the limits of all possible experience.' The reason of this is, that we measure the length of time by the number of our states of consciousness. Retrospectively, a space of time during which we have been active seems much longer than one in which we have been idle. A week spent in travel seems longer than one spent in the habitual mono- 1 For a study of this subject in its psychological relations, see Wundt. Menschen und Thierseelet Lectures 4 and 23. Relations betiveen the Physical and the Moral. 239 tony and routine of life. Under the enormous and sudden afflux of sensations and ideas, space, like time, expands beyond all measure in the consciousness. ' The buildings, the mountains,' says De Quincey, ' loomed up in proportions too grand to be taken in by the eye. The plain stretched out, and was lost in immensity.' Thus these facts, chosen from among many others, show that the succession which constitutes consciousness is ever varying in velocity and complexity, and consequently we appear to be far enough removed from that ego — that simple, invariable, unchange- able unit — which some have imagined. These researches into the measurement of the phenomena of consciousness as to their duration will doubtless sooner or later lead to important conclusions; for the present we think we may draw a few of these provisionally. 1. The inner sense, like all the other senses, has its limits, beyond which it perceives nothing. There is a psychical minimum, just as there is a visual, or an auditory minimum. Suppose one- eighth of a second to be the briefest state of consciousness, then a cerebral phenomenon lasting one-fifteenth or one-twentieth of a second will lie outside of consciousness. 2. In consciousness, simultaneousness is only apparent If certain states of consciousness seem to be simultaneous (and Hamilton supposed that we could entertain seven ideas at once) it is simply because their succession is so rapid that we cannot note their want of continuity. If consciousness could have its micro- scope, as the eye has, we should see succession where now we see simultaneousness ; for instance, in the perception of a complex object, as a house. 3. The greater part of our internal states can never enter the consciousness. Our total life is made up of sundry particular lives, and the life of each organ has its echo in the various ganglia and nerve-centres scattered throughout the body. But as all these internal states are simultaneous, while consciousness is a succes- sion, the result is that the majority of them remain in the uncon- scious state. There exists between them a real ' struggle for life,' a strife to attain consciousness — a strife which has place, now between phenomena of the same class, as between sensation and sensation, image and image, idea and idea ; again, between phe- 240 Heredity. nomena of different classes — a sensation and an image, a sentiment and an idea. Every analysis, therefore, of whatever kind, issues in this : that consciousness conveys to me only a small part of what passes within me. My personality is complex ; my unity is that of a regiment, rather than that of a mathematical point For, without attempting the long and delicate task of analysing our personality, we may say that it comprises at least four essential elements : (i) We have as a basis for all the others, the general sense of the existence of our body, of the play of its functions, of its normal or morbid state. (2) The knowledge of our perceptions or actual ideas. (3) The knowledge of our previous states. (4) The sense of our activity — that is to say, the faculty of knowing how we act upon the outer world, and how we are acted on by it. But the same question constantly presents itself. How does all this attain unity ? We are brought back again to this unavoidable difficulty. Is the unity, without which there is no consciousness, a reality or an abstraction ? There is here, we take it, an insoluble antinomy. On the one hand, if we suppose the unit, the ego, the person, to have any reality beyond the phenomena, we attribute real existence to an abstraction. For if, ex hypothesi, I abstract from my ego all the phenomenal plurality which manifests it — my sensa- tions, sentiments, ideas, resolutions, etc. — the subject so denuded is a mere possibility ; that is to say, the poorest, emptiest, hollowest of abstractions. On the other hand, if we suppose that the phenomena alone are real, and that the unit, the ego, the person, is but a sum, a result- ant— that is to say, an abstraction — we enunciate an unintelligible proposition ; for these phenomena which constitute me possess the twofold character of being given to me as phenomena, and of being given to me as mine. My sensations, sentiments, ideas — in short, all my states of consciousness — imply a synthetic judgment, in virtue of which they are referred to my personality and inte-. grated therewith. Without this synthetic judgment, all those phenomena which are most intimate to me would be as foreign to me as those which take place beyond Herschel's nebulae. Scat- tered pearls do not make a necklace, there is need of a string to Relations between the Physical and the Moral. 241 connect them ; if we cut an apple into twenty pieces, and scatter them to the winds from the summit of a tower, these scattered fragments no longer make up an apple. The same would be the case with that phenomenal, disintegrated, and unconnected plurality, which nothing can reduce to unity. But, like the ego and the non- ego, the internal and the external are correlative terms, and the one cannot be assumed without the other ; if I cannot know my- self, I cannot know anything ; and thus, if there is no unity of consciousness there is no cognition, whether internal or external, nor is there in the universe any such thing as thought To suppose, as some appear to have done, that the unity of the ego is nothing but the continuity of the consciousness, is an illusion, for consciousness being, as we have seen, discontinuous, could produce only an intermittent unity. Thus, then, we find it impossible to reach a conclusion, or rather, we find ourselves forced to conclude that here science ends and metaphysics begins. We are face to face with the unknow- able ; it is within us, in the profoundest depths of our being. We are equally unable to suppress the two terms of our antinomy and to reconcile them ; equally unable to say whether our unity is real or only apparent The fact is, that the study of the ultimate con- ditions of consciousness withstands analysis. The analytical method is the only one possible, and here the analytical method is illusory. We think we have explained a complex fact, when, by successive simplifications, we have reduced it to its constituent elements. And this is generally true ; but in the biological and psychological order, the synthesis made after analysis is not iden- tical with the synthesis that existed prior to analysis. Here the whole is not equal to the sum of the parts. Chemistry, by its syn- thesis and analysis, enables us to understand this apparent paradox. It shows that if two or more simple bodies, each having special properties, combine, the resulting whole usually possesses physi- cal, chemical, and physiological characteristics altogether different from those of its constituent parts ; thus, sulphuric acid resem- bles neither sulphur nor oxygen. In the mental order there are analogous combinations, and possibly our ego is one which is made and unmade every moment But we cannot know this. We must then, be on our guard against supposing that we have 242 Heredity. explained all when we have analysed all. In pyschology, analysis is of service in making us acquainted with the emphatic conditions of phenomena, which is nearly the whole extent of our science ; but our science is not everything. IV. We can now arrive at a summary view of the general relations of the physical and the moral. In the first place, all the foregoing discussions and expositions are reducible to two essential pro- positions : — 1. The phenomena which constitute physical and mental life, taken in their totality, seem to form a continuous series of such a nature that at the one extremity of the series all is unconscious and purely physiological, and at the other end all is conscious and purely psychological; and that the transition from the one extreme to the other is performed by insensible gradations, whether it be that the unconscious rises to the conscious, or that the conscious returns to unconsciousness. 2. The purely physiological phenomena appear to be reduced in the last analysis to motion, and purely psychological phenomena to sensation ; and thus we have the problem of the relations be- tween the physical and the moral brought down to this question : What is the relation between a nerve-vibration and a sensation ? Some, taking their stand in metaphysics, think the problem to be resolvable; others, holding to experience, regard it as un- solvable. If we examine the tendencies of contemporary metaphysics on this point, we shall find two currents of doctrine quite distinct, and both equally logical. Either we may regard motion as the only reality, all else being but a modification of it, thought being the maximum of motion ; or we may regard thought as the only reality, of which all the rest is only a modification, motion being the minimum of thought The former hypothesis might be called mechanism, or, by a somewhat antiquated term, materialism. The second hypothesis is idealism. It is enough for our purpose to show briefly that neither of these hypotheses can be scientifically established. i. The mechanical theory is very simple — it starts from motion, Relations between the Physical and the Moral. 243 to which it affirms that everything can be reduced. So long as it holds to the inorganic world it is not easily assailable ; to motion, in fact, the properties of brute matter may be reduced — heat, light, cohesion, sound, and, probably, also the phenomena of electro-magnetism. It is even known with exactitude what nu- merical ratio subsists between a given quantity of motion and a given quantity of heat As regards chemical action, its reduction to motion is less clear ; but suppose that all this should one day be explained, the inorganic would be reduced to simple bodies and motion. According to the mechanical hypothesis, the world of life is reducible to the same terms. In the first place, since the researches of Wohler, chemical synthesis has effaced every line of demarcation between organic and inorganic chemistry. The ternary and quarternary compounds which constitute organic matter are chiefly confined to oxygen, hydrogen, carbon and nitrogen. Their elements, therefore, are not bodies of a peculiar kind. Living substance possesses no properties due to any imagi- nary 'vital principle.' Life, together with the play of the functions which compose it, is but a very complicated chemistry and mechanism. But if we were to admit that this mechanical conception of life is confirmed in all its details (which is not the case), it would still have to explain what is most essential in living beings, their unity. To say, as has been said, that living matter is endowed with the peculiar property of 'adapting itself to ends,' explains nothing. We thus attribute to it an unconscious intelli- gence, but in so doing we go beyond the bounds of mechanism. This unity, this consensus, is so important in the living creature that Auguste Comte himself admits that here 'we must substitute for analytic study synthetic considerations' — that is to say, instead of passing from the lower to the higher, from the components to the resultant, we must descend from the higher to the lower, from the end to the subordinated means.1 But if we suppose that mechanism explains life, and endeavour, with its assistance, to 1 In his Rapport sur la Physiologie Gfatrate, Claude Bernard thinks that we are justified in reducing life to the laws of inorganic nature, but that we have no right to say that the processes are identical. Life has processes of its own See also some excellent observations in Renouvier, Critique Gintrale, tome iii. p. 90, et seq. 244 Heredity. arrive at an understanding of thought, we have first to explain how the nervous system is constituted, which is the indispensable condition of all thought As we are aware, it is only a comple- mentary apparatus : certain infusoria, whose bodies are only an amorphous mass, entirely void of muscles and nerves, have yet a relative life. Relying on the law of evolution, on the passage from the simple to the complex, and on the physiological division of labour, some have endeavoured to explain the genesis of the nervous system. The most curious essays in this direction have been made by one who in other respects rejects the mechanical hypothesis. Mr. Herbert Spencer, in his Biology (§ 302), and more particularly in his PsycJwlogy (Part 5), strives to show how a nerve might be produced in an extremely simple primitive organism by the laws of motion ; and how, from this beginning, more and more complicated nervous systems might be developed. If this bold genesis were beyond question, it would be a great victory for the mechanical theory, but still the necessity would remain of ex- plaining how nerve-vibration becomes a fact of consciousness. We are utterly incapable of understanding how motion becomes thought The hypothesis is indemonstrable in theory, and incon- ceivable in fact If it be said that, subjectively, heat and light are as different from motion as the fact of consciousness is different from nerve-vibration, we must observe that the comparison is not exact For a motion to become light there is need of an optical apparatus and consciousness ; for a motion to become sound there is need of an acoustic apparatus and consciousness. But for a nerve-vibration to become consciousness — which as yet has no existence — what is needed ? How shall we explain this metamor- phosis ? Such, briefly, is the mechanical hypothesis, which it would require a volume to set forth in its details. According to it, phenomena differ in nothing from one another save in this, that the higher are produced by a concentration, and the lower by a dispersion of force. A unit of thought would be equivalent to several units of life, and a unit of life to several units of purely mechanical force. At least, such would seem to be the tenour of the observations made by one of its most recent exponents, Dr. Maudsley, in his Physiology of Mind. ' All ascending transform- Relations between tlte Physical and the Moral. 246 ations of matter and force are, so to speak, concentrations of the same within a less space. One equivalent of chemical force cor- responds to several equivalents of a lower force, and one equivalent of vital force to several equivalents of chemical. The same holds good for the various tissues. . . If we suppose a higher tissue to undergo a decomposition, or a retrograde metamorphosis, which shall necessarily coincide with the resolution of its energies into lower modes, we may say that a simple monad of the higher tissue, or one equivalent of its force, is equal to several monads of the lower kind of tissue, or to several equivalents of its force. The characteristic of living matter is that it is a complexity of combina- tions, and a variety of elements so brought together in a small space that we cannot trace them; and in nervous structure this concentration and this complication are carried to the utmost degree. . . The highest energy of nature is, in fact, the most dependent. The reason of the powerful influence it is capable of exerting on the lower forces which serve in its evolution is, that it implicitly contains the essence of all lower kinds of energy. As the man of genius implicitly comprises humanity, so the nervous element implicitly comprises nature.' In another place, the author adds the following remark, which can hardly be reconciled with mechanism : ' What is this progress, this nisus, which is so evident when we take all nature into account? Is it not a striving of nature to attain consciousness, to attain the possession of itself? In the series of manifold productions, man, says Goethe, was the first wherein nature "held converse with God.' We shall not attempt, in this place, the discussion of the mechan- ical theory. We shall hereafter submit both it and its opposite, idealism, to criticism. We would only remark for the present that, from the standpoint of experience, we may object to it that it is an excessive abuse of hypothesis, which it exalts to reality.1 While 1 Those who occupy the metaphysical point of view refute mechanism by saying that from the less it deduces the greater. Taken by itself, this axiom is incontestable, for it is only another form of the plain truth that the whole is greater than a part, but we must here be careful. The terms greater and less are quantitative expressions, and hence they have no value except in the domain of the measurable, the homogeneous, the mathe- matical. To employ them aright, the two terms must be comparable and 246 Heredity. among these hypotheses there are some which share in the present imperfection of the sciences, but which may be accepted in advance, there are others which so far transcend all possible experience that there is no rashness in rejecting them. 2. Idealism is not so easily set forth as the opposite theory : not that it is less simple, or that it does not hang so well together, but because it conversely follows the scientific order, proceeding always from the end to the subordinated means, descending step by step the series which mechanism ascends step by step. The starting-point of mechanism is very definite, if it is not very certain ; idealism at the outset takes up its position in the absolute, which is the only point of view from which the universe can be surveyed, ' For God serves to explain the soul, and the soul to explain nature.' We are here beyond the reach of experience, and consequently of science. Yet we must attain to science, must pass from the absolute to the relative, from ourselves to phenomena. But how, by what mysterious operation is this done ? Idealism answers only in metaphors — which is inevitable, since the finite and the infinite are incommensurable, and, ex hypothesi, there is no possible ratio between the first and the second term. If we suppose this first difficulty solved, we are then on the ground of experience, in possession of a reality derived from the absolute, which will serve ultimately to measure and explain everything. This reality is thought According to Schopenhauer and his school, thought would occupy only the second place, intelligence would be only ' the physics of the mind ' imprisoned in the subjective forms of time, consequently of the same nature. To say that mind is the greater and matter the less, is to be the dupe of words ; it is to apply to quality what is true only of quantity. The relation of mind to matter is not a relation of greater and less, but of object to object It is also said that the mechanical theory subordinates the higher to the lower. This refutation, for which we are indebted to A. Comte, is more exact, because it substitutes the qualitative point of view for the quantitative. For my own part, I certainly consider the psychological order superior to the vital order, and the latter to the inorganic world. But these ideas of higher and lower may well possess only a subjective value, and be only a mere human way of considering things, so that this refutation, however true in fact, has no logical cogency or true scientific value. Relations between the Physical and the Moral. 247 space, and causality. The supreme reality would be will, which alone springs not from intellectual experience, and which alone is directly conceived. Yet will thus posed, without and above all consciousness, all idea, is only in name like that will of which we have consciousness, or of that which enters into the texture of the effects and causes which constitute experience. We cannot define this absolute will because, ex hypothesi, it is not knowable, and because nothing exists for us, except so far as we know it. But not to dwell on these inner discordances of idealism, let us admit that thought, in its broad sense, is the principle of all things. Astonishing and paradoxical as this thesis might at first appear to the average mind, it is in many respects true, incontestable, even in the eyes of the partisan of pure experience. By an un- scientific illusion, we imagine that were man and, in general, every thinking and sensing brain to disappear, the universe would still sub- sist with its light, its colours, its forms, its harmonies, its aesthetics. But this is not so, since the universe, at least for us, is only a sum of states of consciousness. Resistance, form, colour — in short, all the attributes of matter — exists for us only on this condition. The order of these phenomena, their existences, or their uniform suc- cessions— that is to say, their laws — exist for us only on this condi- tion. 'And this world,' says Schopenhauer, 'would no longer exist if human brains were not unceasingly multiplied, springing up like mushrooms, to take in the universe, which is ready to founder in nothingness, and to toss between them like a ball this great image identical in all, of which they express the identity by the word object* Without accepting this absolute idealism, which is hypothetical, experience alone compels us to admit that for us all real or possible existence is bounded by the limits of our real or pos- sible thought If, then, we place thought at the summit of all things — as well in the absolute as in the experience, since it is thought which, in revealing itself, reveals all things — it follows that, for idealism, in proportion as we descend from pure thought to sensation, from sensation to the vital phenomena, and from the vital phenomena to chemical and mechanical action, the universe grows obscure and mean ; there is constant diminution of reality, of being. Sensation and sense-impressions are intelligible, but life 248 Heredity. is an unconscious thought enclosed in matter; 'the body is a mind of a moment's duration.' In the inorganic world, at the lowest grade of the scale, the phenomena of shock or of the com- munication of motion, the clearest of all for mechanism, is in fact the most obscure, because there the effort, the will, which constitutes all thought, is more widely separated than elsewhere from its effect : there thought is aliena a se. Further, the pheno- menon of shock includes that which some would have it replace, viz. spontaneity. ' Inertia, with the elasticity which results from it, is to the body what is to the soul the innate tendency to preserve the action that constitutes its essence, and to restore it when it is deranged.' Inertia is analogous to and derived from will, and all motion is in its essence an aiming at something. Thus everything is explained by thought, all that is intelligible ; and, as Berkeley says, ' In all that exists is life, in all that lives is sensation, and in all that has sensation is thought.' Such is the idealistic system — a system that hangs well together, even if it be not conclusive. We do not accuse it of depending on an hypothesis, such as : ' Thought is the only reality,' for this it shares in common with metaphysics, and, indeed, with all human science. All our scientific knowledge, however coherent, how- ever solid and fruitful in results, is like a gold chain, of which we do not see the first link. As we are alike incapable of tran- scending experience and of being content with experience, and as science has the same limits as experience, the only way of tran- scending these limits is hypothesis. Every system of thought employs hypothesis more or less ; idealism more frankly than any other system. A graver defect, as we view it, is, that even though the hypothesis be admitted, the system nevertheless still contains an insuperable difficulty. How does thought, which is the only reality, become something else for itself, something so different that it no longer recognizes itself? What is the cause of this continuous and ever-increasing lapse of thought? It evidently cannot be any external cause, for by the hypothesis there is nothing beyond thought What, then, is the internal cause ? Nature, it will be said, is ' an exterioration of the mind ' — a proposition that relatively is incontestable, but absolutely doubtful, for experience shows that we are as incapable of sup Relations between the Physical and the Moral. 249 posing matter without mind as mind without matter ; subject and object, external and internal, are correlative terms. If the object is in the last analysis reduced to states of consciousness which come from within, states of consciousness are reduced in the last analysis to sensations which come from without. The object is constituted by the aid of elements derived from the subject, and the subject is constituted by the aid of elements derived from the object. From this alternative there is no escape. Moreover, the radical weakness of these two rival doctrines, mechanism and idealism, has been so well demonstrated in a recent work by Herbert Spencer, that we cannot do better than to give that author'e remarks in his own words. ' Here, indeed, we arrive at the barrier which needs to be per- petually pointed out, alike to those who seek materialistic expla- nations of mental phenomena, and to those who are alarmed lest such explanations may be found. The last class prove by their fear almost as much as the first prove by their hope, that they believe that mind may possibly be interpreted in terms of matter ; whereas many whom they vituperate as materialists are profoundly convinced that there is not the remotest possibility of so inter- preting them. For those who, not deterred by foregone conclu- sions, have pushed their analysis to the uttermost, see very clearly that the concept we form to ourselves as matter, is but the symbol of some form of power absolutely and for ever unknown to us ; and a symbol which we cannot suppose to be like the reality without involving ourselves in contradictions. They also see that the representation of all objective activities in the terms of motion is but a representation of them, and not a knowledge of them ; and that we are immediately brought to alternative absur- dities if we assume the power manifested to us as motion to be in itself that which we conceive as motion. When, with these conclusions that matter and motion, as we think them, are but symbolic of unknowable forms of existence, we join the con- clusion, lately reached, that mind also is unknowable, and that the simplest form under which we can think of its substance is but a symbol of something that can never be rendered into thought ; we see that the whole question is -at last nothing more than the question whether these symbols should be expressed in 250 Heredity. terms of those, or those in terms of these — a question scarcely worth deciding, since either answer leaves us as completely out- side of the reality as we were at first. ' Nevertheless, it may be as well to say here, once for all, that were we compelled to choose between the alternative of translating mental phenomena into physical phenomena, or of translating physical phenomena into mental phenomena, the latter alternative would seem the more acceptable of the two. Mind, as known to the possessor of it, is a circumscribed aggregate of activities ; and the cohesion of these activities one with another, throughout the aggregate, compels the postulation of a something of which they are the activities. But the same experiences which make him aware of this coherent aggregate of mental faculties, simultaneously make him aware of activities that are not included in it — outlying activities which become known by their effects on this aggregate, but which are experimentally proved to be not coherent with it, and to be coherent with one another. As, by the definition of them, these external activities cannot be brought within the aggregate 01 activities distinguished as those of mind, they must for ever remain to him nothing more than the unknown correlatives of their effects on this aggregate, and can be thought of only in terms furnished by this aggregate. Hence, if he re- gards his conceptions of these activities lying beyond mind, as constituting knowledge of them, he is deluding himself; he is but representing these activities in terms of mind, and can never do otherwise. Eventually, he is obliged to admit that his ideas of matter and motion, merely symbolic of unknowable realities, are complex states of consciousness built out of units of feeling. But if, after admitting this, he persists in asking whether units of feeling are of the same nature as the units of force distinguished as external, or whether the units of force distinguished as external are of the same nature as units of feeling ; then the reply, still substantially the same, is, that we may go further towards conceiving units of external force to be identical with units of feeling, than we can towards conceiving units of feeling to be identical with units of external force. Clearly, if units of external force are regarded as absolutely unknown and unknowable, then to translate units of force into them is to translate the known Relations between the Physical and the Moral. 251 into the unknown, which is absurd. And if they are what they are supposed to be by those who identify them with their symbols, then the difficulty of translating units of feeling into them is insur- mountable ; if force, as it objectively exists, is absolutely alien in nature from that which exists subjectively as feeling, then the transformation of force into feeling is unthinkable. Either way, therefore, it is impossible to interpret inner existence in terms of outer existence. But if, on the other hand, units of force, as they exist objectively, are essentially the same in nature with those manifested subjectively as units of feeling, then a con- ceivable hypothesis remains open. Every element of that aggre- gate of activities constituting a consciousness, is known as be- longing to consciousness only by its cohesion with the rest Beyond the limits of this coherent aggregate of activities exist activities quite independent of it, and which cannot be brought into it We may imagine, then, that by their exclusion from the circumscribed activities constituting consciousness, these outer activities, though of the same intrinsic nature, become antithe- tically opposed in aspect Being disconnected from consciousness, or cut off by its limits, they are thereby rendered foreign to it Not being incorporated with its activities, or linked with these as they are with one another, consciousness cannot, as it were, run through them ; and so they come to be figured as unconscious — are symbolized as having the nature called material, as opposed to that called spiritual. While, however, it thus seems an imaginable possibility that units of external force may be identical in nature with units of the force known as feeling, yet we cannot, by so representing them, get any nearer to a comprehension of external force. For, as already shown, supposing all forms of mind to be composed of homogenous units of feeling variously aggregated, the resolution of them into such units leaves us as unable as before to think of the substance of mind as it exists in such units; and thus, even could we really figure to ourselves all units of ex- ternal force as being essentially like units of the force known as feeling, and as so constituting a universal sentiency, we should be as far as ever from forming a conception of that which is universally sentient * Hence, though of the two it seems easier to translate so-called 252 Heredity- matter into so-called spirit, than to translate so-called spirit into so-called matter (which latter is, indeed, wholly impossible), yet no translation can carry us beyond our symbols. Such vague con- ceptions as loom before us are illusions conjured up by the wrong connotations of our words. The expression ' substance of mind,' if we use it in any other way than as the x of our equation, in- evitably betrays us into errors ; for we cannot think of substance save in terms that imply material properties. Our only course is constantly to recognize our symbols as symbols only, and to rest content with that duality of them which our constitution necessi- tates. The unknowable, as manifested to us within the limits of consciousness in the shape of feeling, being no less inscrutable than the unknowable as manifested beyond the limits of conscious- ness in other shapes, we approach no nearer to understanding the last by rendering it into the first. The conditioned form under which being is presented in the subject cannot, any more than the conditioned form under which being is presented in the object, be the unconditioned being common to the two.' x v. In the preceding paragraph we said that on the question of the relations between the physical and the moral some authors, taking the metaphysical point of view, think that the problem can be resolved, while others, basing themselves on experience, hold it to be insoluble. Further, we have seen that metaphysics fails to solve it : mechanism fails, because it reduces all to motion, which ultimately is not cognized, save on the condition of thought ; and idealism fails, because it reduces all to thought, which does not exist without an object ; so that neither of these two antithetic terms can absorb the other. The conclusion, therefore, must be that the problem is by its very nature insoluble. This, however, is not a return to a proposition long accepted, and in a manner classical. We will explain why it is not The commonly accepted dualism takes the metaphysical point of view; it opposes a substance which it does not know — mind — 1 Principles of Psychology, 2nd Edition, § 63. Relations between the Physical and the Moral. 253 to another substance it does not know — matter — without being able to reconcile them, as is natural, for how can light be produced out of the clash of two ignorances? On the contrary, the partisan of experience pronounces the question unsolvable, precisely because it transcends experience, that is to say, demonstrated or verifiable science. The one is pent within the impotency of his metaphysics ; the other within the limits of his method. The ignorance of the former is owing to the gaps in his philosophy ; that of the latter, to his voluntary abstention from all transcendental research. In our times, the fine generalization known as the law of equiva- lence, or of the correlation of forces, has led some bold thinkers to state in another form the problem of the relations between the physical and the moral. Modern physics considers all the forces of nature — heat, light, electricity, magnetism, cohesion, chemical affinity, gravity — as capable of being reduced all to one principle, and of being transformed into one another in accordance with fixed rules, which are nothing else but me laws of mechanics. It is also generally admitted that the law of equivalence governs vital phenomena, and muscular contraction and innervation in par- ticular. But is it also applicable to mental phenomena ? Is it possible for it to pass from nerve facts to states of consciousness ? Do mental forces enter the category of the other forces, and are they in like manner convertible ? Some authors in our day answer affirmatively. Bain has accu- mulated and cited some facts from which he infers, (i) the equiva- valence or transmutability of nervous and mental forces, and (2) the equivalence or transformation of the mental forces into one another. Thus, according to him, it would be possible to establish an equivalence on the one hand between a certain nervous state and a certain mental state, and on the other hand between the three principal forms of mental life — sensibility, will and intelli- gence ; so that a state of consciousness would imply the trans- formation and expenditure of a certain amount of nerve-force; and an increase of sensibility would be possible only by a diminu- tion of intelligence and will, the sum of force in the living being remaining constant amid all these transformations. The magnifi- cent synthesis contained in Herbert Spencer's First Principles reduces all phenomena without exception to the law of equivalence. 254 Heredity. ' No thought, no feeling,' says the author, ' is ever manifested, save as the result of a physical force. This principle will before long be a scientific common place.' "" They who hold this doctrine observe that nervous force, which ultimately results from nutrition, must, after it is produced, be expended in one or other of these three ways : either by acting on the viscera, the heart, or the digestive organs, as is the case in deep emotion; or by acting on the muscles and producing move- ments, gestures, and various expressions of the physiognomy ; or by causing the excitation to pass to some other part of the nervous system, and hence result those successive states which make up consciousness. Sensations excite ideas and emotions ; the latter in turn awaken other ideas and emotions, and so on — that is to say, the tension existing in certain nerves, or groups of nerves, when they give us sensations, ideas, or emotions, produces an equivalent tension in some, other nerves, or groups of nerves, with which they are connected. But the facts cited in support of this thesis do not appear to us to be all equally conclusive. Some of them are no doubt trans- formations, but then others are rather correspondences. Thus, the pain which is transformed into cries and extravagant contortions is of short duration ; pain which endures is reticent of expression. And the same is to be said of anger. But in certain cases — for example, in the cerebral excitation produced by hasheesh or opium — it is not quite certain that between the nervous state and the mental state there exists equivalence, transformation, and not simply correspondence. This doctrine of the correlation of physical forces and thought is as yet hardly more than an outline. It is still in the qualitative period, and it is doubtful whether it will very soon enter on the quantitative period, which alone can constitute it a science. It is however a promising field, and one well adapted to exercise free and daring minds. If it could be demonstrated scientifically, it is evident that then the problem of the relations between the physical and the moral would come before us in a new aspect : it would be only a particular case of the law of the correlation of forces. We need not say that such a solution, restricted to experience, would Relations between the Physical and the Moral. 255 be neither spiritualistic nor materialistic, for those at least who care for the preciseness of the terms they employ.1 But not to dwell upon a problem which cannot be incidentally discussed, we will endeavour to deduce a conclusion from all that has been said, which shall be based, so far as possible, on experience. It appears that all contemporary schools, when we eliminate that which appertains to the exclusive point of view of each, tend more and more to consider physical and moral phenomena as identical. This conclusion seems perfectly natural, especially to those who take the ground of experience ; so that we may say — at least, so far as current language will enable us to express ideas which are opposed to current opinions — that the physical is the moral looked 1 We may cite, in confirmation of what we have said, some remarkable reflec- tions of the great English physicist, Tyndall. 'Granted,' says he, 'that a definite thought and a definite molecular action in the brain occur simulta neously ; we do not possess the intellectual organ, nor apparently any rudiment of the organ, which would enable us to pass by a process of reasoning from the one to the other. They appear together, but we do not know why. Were our minds and senses so expanded, strengthened, and illuminated as to enable us to see and feel the very molecules of the brain ; were we capable of following all their motions, all their groupings, all their electric discharges, if such there be ; and were we intimately acquainted with the corresponding states of thought and feeling, we should be as far as ever from the solution of the problem, " How are these physical processes connected with the facts of consciousness? " The chasm between the two classes of phenomena would still remain intellectu- ally impassable. Let the consciousness of love, for example, be associated with a right-handed spiral motion of the molecules of the brain, and the consciousness of hale with a left-handed spiral motion. We should then know when we love that the motion is in one direction, and when we hate that the motion is in the other; but the "why " would remain as unanswerable as before. ' In affirming that the growth of the body is mechanical, and that thought, as exercised by us, has its correlative in the physics of the brain, I think the position of the " materialist " is stated, as far as that position is a tenable one. I think the materialist will be able finally to maintain this position against all attacks ; but I do not think, in the present condition of the human mind, that he can pass beyond this position. I do not think he is entitled to say that his molecular groupings, and his molecular motions, explain everything. In reality they explain nothing. The utmost he can affirm is the association of two classes of phenomena, of whose real bond of union he is in absolute ignorance. The problem of the connection of body and soul is as insoluble in its modern form as it was in the prescientific ages.' Fragments of Science, vi. 12 256 Heredity. at from without, and that the moral is the physical looked at from within. The difference between physical and moral is subjective, not objective ; it pertains not to their own nature, but to our way of viewing them. Physics has demonstrated that heat, light, and sound appear to us as different, only because each of them is addressed to a different sense, so that all the difference comes from ourselves. The psychologist ought to see that the physical and the moral appear different to us, only because the one is cognized by the external senses and under the condition of time and space, and the other by the inner sense, under the condition of time ; so that all the difference comes from ourselves. Thus the absolute, under its unconditioned form, would be entirely beyond our reach, and the conditioned forms in which it is manifested to us in experi- ence would be opposites only by an illusion of our thought. Perhaps we might proceed further, and draw an important deduction. If we admit the identity of physical and moral pheno- mena ; if we observe that all that is in the living being forms a continuous series from perfect unconsciousness, if there be such a thing, to perfect consciousness ; — if, again, there be such a thing; if it be borne in mind that the unconscious is the abyss into which everything enters and from which everything proceeds, the very root of all our mental life, and that our personality is like a wan- dering light on a vast and sombre lake, where it appears as though swallowed up each moment, then, perhaps, we shall be inclined to admit that the physical order and the moral order, which in our consciousness appear to be different things, are identical in the unconscious ; that conscious duality is derived from an unconscious unity, so that in the unconscious, matter and thought, object and subject, external and internal, are one. This special reconciliation of the physical and moral in man would thus lead to the recon- ciliation of the object in general with the subject in general, of the universe with thought This, it is true, is a metaphysical hypothesis, but then it is neither possible nor desirable to give up metaphysics and hypo- thesis. This hypothesis has been put forward by men who are as sturdy upholders of experience as are to be found, and who have treated psychology as a natural science. ' If we admit,' says Wundt, ' the identity of physical and psychical facts, then the former will Relations between the Physical and the Moral. 257 come under the laws of mechanics, and the latter to those of logic, and it can be shown that these two kinds of laws are iden- tical, and that the inner experience apprehends as a logical necessity what the outer experience perceives as a mechanical necessity.' ' This,' says he, in another place, ' is what the analysis of the process of sensation comes to, viz. that logical necessity and mechanical necessity differ not in their essence, but simply accord- ing to our way of regarding them. That which is given to us by psychological analysis as a continuity of logical operations (Schliisse\ is given us also by physiological analysis as a continuity of mechanical effects (Kraflwirkungen). . . . Logic and mechan- ism are identical ; they are both only the form of essentially the same contents (gleichartigen Inhalt).1 CHAPTER II. THE RELATIONS BETWEEN THE PHYSICAL AND THE MORAL. A PARTICULAR CASE. WE have just seen how the question of the general relations of the physical and the moral presents itself in our day. We would now pass from the theory to the facts, to consider a particular case, to resolve a single question, one, however, of capital importance for the matter in hand. The question is this : — Must it be admitted that every psychological state, of whatever kind, has always a physiological state for its antecedent ? The correlation of the physical and the moral is universally admitted, but this belief, when examined, is very vague and very inexact The general view, and, what is more serious still, many philosophical treatises, seem to admit that this correlation holds good only in the gross, so to speak, and that frequently the body and the soul live each for itself. A few striking cases on either side are considered, all the rest being cast in the shade and for- gotten. But, in fact, the thing is quite otherwise. Facts tend to 1 Menschen und Thuvsede, I2th lecture, p. 200, and 57th Lecture, p. 437. 258 Heredity. show more and more conclusively that this correlation is as com- plete as possible ; that it is constant ; that it is to be seen even in the most insignificant cases, and that it admits of no exception. It is of great importance for us to establish this truth here : for if we could succeed in showing it to be highly probable — as yet we cannot hope for certainty — that every psychological state supposes a physiological antecedent, a considerable advance would have been made in our inquiry into the causes. In the order of pheno- mena, all our science consists in demonstrating permanent co- existences and permanent successions. Suppose this permanent co-existence of a physiological and a psychological state estab- lished, we can then go further, and draw the deduction that in every individual an habitual mental state must answer to an habitual nervous state. The mental constitution of a poet and that of a mathematician imply each a physiological organization differing from the other in certain points. We can go further, and extend to the species what has just been said of the individual. The permanence of a certain turn of mind in a family during several generations supposes the permanence of certain correspond- ing physiological characters during the same number of genera- tions. This leads us in the direction of the required answer, for to resolve a problem is to translate a proposition which implicitly contains a truth into another which gives a glimpse of it, and this in turn into another which exhibits it clearly. For the present, let it suffice to establish our premisses. Evi- dently experience only can decide whether every psychological state is connected with a physiological state ; this is a question of fact rather than of theory. Still, we cannot enumerate all pos- sible cases ; we cannot take all the states of consciousness in succession and show that they correspond, each with a particular nervous state. Such a demonstration would be endless, and it would, moreover, be in many cases impossible. We must, then, in accordance with Bacon's precept, confine ourselves to a few selected, striking, decisive facts, to expcrimcnta lucifera which may serve as a basis for a sound induction. We will, then, show from examples that sentiments and ideas are referable to certain states of the organs, though at first sight they would seem to be entirely independent of them. Relations between the Physical and the Moral. 259 L At the lowest grade of psychological life, we meet with that infinite number of faint perceptions, scarcely conscious, of which the aggregate constitutes for every one that general feeling of existence, that Gemeingefuhl, which is the ground on which our clear perceptions and our ideas are incessantly projected. This confused feeling, which is the resultant of a crowd of infinitesimal sensations, as the roar of the sea is the resultant of the noise of each wave, is so well described by L. Peisse, in his Notes on Caba- nis, that we cannot do better than transcribe the passage. ' Is it quite certain that we have absolutely no consciousness of the exercise of the organic functions ? If we mean a clear, dis- tinct, and locally determinable consciousness, like that of external impressions, it is plain that we do not possess it'; but we may have an obscure, dim, and, so to speak, latent consciousness of them, analogous to our consciousness of the sensations which call forth and accompany the respiratory movements, sensations which, although incessantly repeated, pass as though they were not per- ceived. May we not, indeed, regard as a distant, feeble, and con- fused echo of the universal vital labour that remarkable feeling which, without cessation or remission, certifies us of the actual existence and presence of our own bodies ? This feeling is nearly always, though improperly, confounded with those accidental and local impressions which, while we are awake, stimulate and keep up the play of sensibility. These sensations, though they are incessant, make but fugitive and transient appearances on the stage of consciousness, while the feeling of which we speak endures and persists beneath those shifting scenes. Condillac well named it the fundamental sentiment of existence, and Maine de Birau the feeling of sensitive existence. In virtue of it, the body is ever present to the ego as its own, and the mental subject feels and perceives that it exists in some sort locally within the limited extent of the organism. It is a perpetual and unfailing monitor, making the state of the body ever present to the consciousness, and it manifests in an unmistakable way the indissoluble con- nection of psychical with physiological life. In the ordinary state of equilibrium which constitutes perfect health, this iceling is, as 260 Heredity. we have said, continuous, uniform, and ever the same, and hence it is that the ego does not perceive it as a distinct, special, local sensation. To be distinctly perceived, it must acquire a certain intensity, and then it is expressed by a vague impression of general well-being, or general discomfort, the former indicating simple exaltation of physiological vital action, the latter its pathological perversion ; but in this case it soon is localized in the form of par- ticular sensations pertaining to such or such a region of the body. At times it is revealed in a more indirect, though far more evident way, when it has just failed at a given point of the organism, for instance, in a limb struck with paralysis. The member in question still belongs materially to the living aggregate, but it is no longer included in the sphere of the organic ego, if the expression is per- missible. It ceases to be felt by this ego, as its own, and the fact of this separation, though negative, is interpreted by a very special positive sensation known to all who have ever suffered a total numbness of any part of the body, produced whether by cold or by compression of the nerves. This sensation is nothing else save the expression of that sort of void or loss which occurs in this universal feeling of the bodily life ; it proves that the vital state of that member was really, though obscurely, felt, and that it con- stituted one of the partial elements of the general feeling of life in the organic whole. Thus it is that a continual and monotonous noise, like that of a carriage in which we are shut, is soon unno- ticed though it is still heard, for if it stop suddenly the cessation is at once perceived. This analogy may help us to understand the nature and working of the fundamental sentiment of organic life, which, on this hypothesis, would be but the resultant in confuso of the impressions made at all points of the living body by the inward movement of functions carried to the brain, whether directly by the cerebro-spinal nerves, or indirectly by the nerves of the gang- lion ic system. Therefore it is not proved that, in the strict sense, the organic functions are performed absolutely without our knowledge, as Cabanis asserts. This GemeingefiiM, of which the mass of men take no note, and which too many psychologists have neglected, is nevertheless the groundwork of our mental life. If in psychological analysis we Relations between the Physical and the Moral. 261 could employ the microscope, it would resolve this general state into a myriad of particular states, themselves the effects of a myriad of vague excitations of the organism. Thus, then, this general feeling of existence is referable to elementary psychological states, of which each has its physiological antecedent IL If from this obscure region we pass into the full light of con- sciousness, we have the same result In the order of the sentiments, as in that of ideas, the phenomena that are purest, most quint- essential and freest from matter, have, like others, their organic conditions. Some facts which we will cite will give us, with regard to this point, an amount of information that never could be divined by all the theories in the world unaided by experience. We will begin with the sentiments. All must admit that many of the sentiments and passions de- pend upon a certain state of the organs. Most languages, indeed, employ words signifying ' heart ' and ' bowels,' to denote our emo- tions. But it will be found that to many sentiments is attributed the privilege of being purely spiritual Thus, love. There is hardly any passion that is more intimately associated with the organ. Yet it has been supposed that under a certain form, called platonic, or ideal love, there arises a purely mental state, having nothing in common with the senses. The truth is, that love in man differs widely from the appetite of the brute, as in a great measure it is the work of the imagination and of the mind, because it is a complex sentiment, resulting from the fusion of many simple sentiments. An able psychologist of our own day who has analysed it, finds in it, besides a physical senti- ment, a sense of the beautiful, affection, sympathy, admiration, love of approbation, self-love, love of possession and of liberty. Now we will show hereafter that all intellectual states have their physiological conditions. The physical sentiment, which is the starting-point of love, is masked by numerous states of con- sciousness more intense than itself; but it exists, notwithstanding, with those organic excitations peculiar to it Facts to be found in medical works leave no doubt as regards this question, and prove that, though the spirit at first is master, the flesh at last prevails. 262 Heredity. 'A young man, devoted from an early period of his life to business, and who at the age of twenty-six had never, though occa- sions were not wanting, felt any desire for those pleasures which are pursued with such mad ardour by so many others, was suddenly, and without any appreciable cause, seized with a sort of amorous fury. He began to idolize all womankind, but, as he was careful to say, with the best intentions, and in all honour, not having even the slightest thought of the physical pleasure given by the pos- session of them. He cherished these feelings in secret, and for several months he, concealed them from every one. His education and his station in life made this course obligatory on him. Soon there arose in his mind erotic fancies, of which he was inwardly ashamed, and against which he struggled with all his might. But so possessed was he with them, that his reason was not long able to resist the assault. To mental disorder there soon were added unmistakable signs of softening of the brain : a violent maniacal delirium then appeared, ending in death.' l We will place side by side with this ideal form of love, mystical love, concerning which we have the same remarks to make. On reading the principal treatises on religious and philosophic mysti- cism, often so full of poetry, and so curious as the product of fine analyses, we cannot but recognize a variation of ordinary love, and the senses have there so active a part, that both forms often speak the same language. Spiritualistic philosophers themselves, among others Cousin, have well shown that mysticism is never nearer the senses than when it supposes itself to be very distant from them. Moreau, in his Physiologic Morbide, gives a curious instance of this erratic love, which mistakes its true origin. ' I have had under my eyes for several months,' says he, ' and have been able to study thoroughly, a young woman, who in another age, and under other conditions of family and surroundings, would certainly have ranked with the Chantals and the Guyons. I will content myself with citing literally and without alteration certain passages from sundry letters written by her, which show how far she was mistaken as to the true character of the sentiments which possessed her.' 1 Moreau of Tours, Psychologie Morbide, pp. 259 — 284. Relations between the Physical and the Moral. 263 We will quote one passage, and that not from among the strong- est, referring the reader for further specimens to the book itself: — ' " I went to bed with such a swelling of all the organs that I was dull and, as it were, stupefied. I gently kissed, like a little dog that is beaten, the hand of my Master ; and then, as is my custom on every occasion of danger, I looked on that dear Master with a burning gaze of love and trustfulness, and going quite out of my own hateful personality, I reposed in him all my true life, so that I went to sleep in consequence of this practical death, and at once I was no more conscious of myself than I should have been had I died outright I awoke, however, for a moment in the night, but as I was no better, I took refuge again in my dear Master ' " I meditated on the meditations of Saint Frangois de Sales on the Song of Songs, at my morning prayer. One night, therefore,, while wide awake, I felt myself in suspense in the midst of all my enjoyments, and awaiting, with a sort of terror, what the Lord would say. I saw him most vividly as he is described in the Song of Songs He lay down near me, put his feet on my feet, laid his hands on mine and enlarged his thorny crown, where he pressed his head to mine ; then, while giving me a lively sense of the pains of his nails and his thorns, touching my lips with his own, and giving me the divinest kiss of a divine spouse, he breathed irto my mouth a delicious breath, which pouring over my whole being a refreshing vigour, rejoiced it all over with an incomparable thrill, and won it for him without reserve.' x We need not describe the influence of mutilation on the senti- ments in general, on the direction of the mind. In the case of animals, while making them weaker, it makes them also more docile and better suited for use by man. * It is well known,' says Cabanis, 'that eunuchs are the vilest class of the whole human race : they are cowardly and deceitful because they are weak, envious and spiteful because they are unfortunate, yet their mind is conscious of the lack of those impressions which give so much activity to the brain, and which animate it with extraordinary life.' Then there are the hermaphrodites. All who have studied them in their moral characteristics, are aware that the individual 1 Ibid. pp. 269 — 277. 264 Heredity. hermaphrodite usually possesses all the psychological tastes which appertain to the predominant sex : thus the masculine hermaphro- dite likes tobacco, brandy, and women. Neuter hermaphrodites have been known to engage with equal pleasure in the violent sports of boys, and in the quieter amusements of girls.1 We have now to consider another category of passions, w^iich are not connected in the same way with the organs — namely, am- bition, avarice, love of truth ; in a word, those sentiments which are called intellectual. These are very complex sentiments, consist- ing of a number of heterogeneous elements, but in which ideas play the chief part Yet it is certain that they are accompanied by pleasure or pain, and that these two phenomena, under what- ever form, are never entirely separable from the organism. Besides, ideas themselves have their physiological antecedents ; they have their condition in a cerebral state, as we shall see on looking at our problem from another point of view. in. Every intellectual state has for its condition and antecedent a physiological state. First, as regards the phenomena of perception, memory, and imagination, the fact is so plain that there is no need for us to dwell upon it But when the question is with regard to the higher modes of thought, such as comparison, abstraction, generalization, judgment, reasoning, will, the answer is more difficult It will be admitted that idiocy, insanity, ecstasy, general paralysis, and delirium always have their cause in a state of the brain. It will further be ad- mitted that the development of the understanding depends on the weight, form, and chemical constitution of the brain, and on the number of its convolutions, though with regard to this point much obscurity still exists. But there is generally much repugnance in admitting that the meditation of a Newton or a Spinoza on ab- stract truths implies a corresponding cerebral state, and we must 1 Dictionnaire da Sciences Naturtlla, Art. 'Hermaphrodisme.' On all these questions consult Cabanis, pp. 222, 223, 253 (Peisse's edition) ; Moreau, 329 ; Coste, D&vchppement da Corps Organists, vol. i. pp. 232 — 239. Relations between tJie Physical and the Moral, 265 confess that physiology is far from being in a position to say precisely to what mode of nerve-vibration a given mode of thought answers. Yet we think that there is one fact which settles the question — that we cannot think without words. To think is to form a judgment ; to judge is to abstract or generalize, • and these operations cannot be performed without signs. The sign is a kind of image — the substitute for an image — and it depends on the brain, as is proved in aphasia, and all disorders of the memory which prevent our using signs. The most abstract reflections, therefore, in so far as they are connected with signs, presuppose a corresponding cerebral state.1 In support of these general considerations, which are based on experience, we may cite, as in the case of the sentiments, some curious facts. Thus Dr. Dumont, a physician of the Hospital des Quinze- Vingts, has inquired into the influence of blindness on the intel- lectual faculties. Of two hundred and twenty blind persons with whose lives he was perfectly familiar, twenty-seven showed intellectual disorders — not including among these those affected with any appreciable cerebral lesion. Dr. Renaudin 'has observed the highly instructive case of an intermittent cutaneous anaesthesia that influenced the character and the intellect of the patient 'A youth, Arthur , had always given perfect satisfaction to his parents. Gifted with or- dinary understanding, he had begun his elementary studies with some success. Suddenly his faculties lost their energy, and he became so unruly that he was expelled the school. He might have been considered an ordinary bad boy,' says M. Renaudin, ' but as I continued my investigation I found in him a complete insensibility of the skin, and I concluded that this was the patho- logical explanation of the fact Nor was I mistaken, Arthur has since been sent to Mare'ville, and from direct observation I have become still more confirmed in this opinion, because the cutaneous anaesthesia being somewhat intermittent, it has been 1 We can think without language, but not without some mode or other of physical expression. The famous Laura Bridgman was always moving her fingers in her dreams and during her waking reflections. — (Maudsley, p. 417.) 266 Heredity. easier to appreciate its influence on the mind of the patient ; when it ceases, he is docile and affectionate. When it reappears, his evil instincts return, and we have had reason to know that they might have led him even to murder.' It has been observed that when there is perfect physical similarity between twins, which is not rare, it is always accompanied with • moral similarity. Moreau saw at Bicetre two young men who were so much alike that one would be taken for the other. They both possess the same monomania, the same dominant ideas, the same hallucinations of hearing ; they never speak to any one, nor do they communicate with one another. 'An exceedingly curious fact, often observed by the attendants and by myself, is this : from time to time, at irregular intervals of two, three, or more months, without appreciable cause, and by the entirely spontaneous action of their malady, a very marked change occurs in both brothers at the same period ; often on the same day they quit their habitual state of stupor and prostration and earnestly entreat the physician to give them their freedom. I have seen this repeated even when the two brothers were separated from one another by a distance of several miles.' l The phenomenon of suggestion also, as produced in magnetized subjects, and in the state of catalepsy or hypnotism, supplies decisive facts in support of our proposition. Ordinarily, the ideas, sentiments, and volitions suggest the sign, and are interpreted by it; here, on the contrary, the sign suggests the idea, the sentiment, the volition. The phenomenon is reversed. Thus, by placing the magnetized person on his knees, the thoughts of humility and reverence are suggested; by lifting up his lips and his eyelids in a certain way, he is rendered proud and haughty; by raising his arms into the air, or clasping his hands on some object, he is made to think that he is climbing. Carpenter has collected a number of facts of this kind. It may therefore be said that experience supplies decisive facts to confirm our proposition, that every psychological phenomenon has a physiological antecedent. It cannot be asserted on sound logical grounds that this is certain. To make it so, the proposition 1 Op. cit., p. 172. See an analogous fact in Trousseau, Clinique Mldicale, »• 253- Physiological and Psychological Heredity. 267 should either be strictly deduced from some unquestionable biological law, or else it would have to be possible to give experimental proof of it in all possible cases. We can do neither of these things. But we hold that this thesis possesses all the probability that accompanies the inductive process ; we hold that were our science sufficiently advanced, we could, the state of the brain being given, thence deduce the corresponding thought or sentiment ; and, conversely, the sentiment or thought being given, we could deduce the state of the brain. Leibnitz, whose genius was all-penetrating, had a glimpse of this truth at a period when science scarce allowed a suspicion of its existence. 'All that ambition led Caesar's mind to do is represented also in his body ; there is a certain state of the body which answers even to the most abstract reasonings.' We might have deduced our proposition from what was before said ; for if it be admitted that the physical and the moral differ not objectively but subjectively — not in their nature, but as to the mode in which they are known to us ; if vital phenomena are on the one hand specially mental, and on the other specially physical, but yet such that each of them, taken in its totality, is ever both physical' and mental ; then it is plain that every psych- ological phenomenon supposes a corresponding physiological state. But we have thought it best to establish this truth directly, and by experience, independently of all hypotheses. We need only add that here, as everywhere, our solution is restricted to phenomena, and has nothing to do with the ultimate reasons of things. CHAPTER III. PHYSIOLOGICAL AND PSYCHOLOGICAL HEREDITY. L IF we sum up what has been said in the two foregoing chapters, we shall see that in consequence of these researches the problem, What is the cause of psychological heredity ? is very much sim- plified. In the first place, we endeavoured to show that the general 268 Heredity. relations of the physical and the moral may be conceived as a relation of equivalence, so that in the last analysis there exists only one species of phenomena, neither material nor spiritual, but which, from a purely human point of view, we call physiological when we grasp them from without and through the senses, and psychological when we grasp them from within and through the consciousness. As we have remarked, however, this is but an hypothesis, the value of which will be better and better deter- mined in the progress of the sciences ; but the fate of which is of no importance for the experimental portion of our thesis. In the next place, passing from speculation to facts, from meta- physics to biology, we showed, on the ground of experience, that it is extremely probable, if not certain, that every mental state implies a corresponding nervous state, and vice versa ; so that, were our science more perfect, we might from the mental state of a being infer the nervous state, and from the nervous state infer the mental state. If these premisses be accepted, the problem of the cause may be more clearly stated. In fact, all our science consists in ap- prehending relations between simple phenomena or groups of phenomena. We have here two groups of phenomena, the one physiological and, above all, nervous, the other psychological ; from the standpoint of heredity there can only subsist between these one or other of these three relations : — 1. A simple relation of simultaneity, physiological and psycho- logical heredity being parallel, though entirely independent of one another. 2. A relation of causality, psychological heredity being con- sidered as the cause, and physiological heredity as the effect 3. Another relation of causality, but with physiological heredity as the cause, and psychological heredity as the effect We will not stop to examine the first hypothesis, which appears to us to be an artificial question. It rests on the strange notion of *wo substances, the body and the soul, perfectly distinct, entirely different, and so alien to one another, that it is matter for sur- prise to find them travelling together and in constant relations with one another. The question might have been put in this form in the seventeenth century, but in the present state of science Physiological and Psychological Heredity. 269 it is no longer acceptable ; and it would not be rash to assert that the great minds who in that age professed this dualism would now be the first to reject it. We have seen that in our time there is a growing tendency to admit an intimate correlation, a mutual inter- change between the two orders of phenomena, so that the difficulty is not to unite but to separate them ; and we could not explain why this radical dualism is still so accredited, did we not know that it is yet more difficult to extirpate an old error than to bring a new truth into acceptance. Without insisting on this hypothesis, which in itself alone in- cludes all the difficulties of both the others, let us proceed to examine them. i. It might be held that psychological heredity is the cause of physiological heredity. This proposition is evidently the one that is maintained by the idealists and the animists. We are not aware that they have laid it down in precise and explicit form, and this no doubt because they have been very little concerned with the problem of heredity, which is chiefly physiological. And, indeed, it is worthy of remark that while spiritualistic philosophy has been much occupied with the future destiny of the soul, it has bestowed very little thought on its origin. It has always inquired whither we are going, and but seldom whence we come. And yet these two problems are intimately connected, and are both equally mysterious. Theologians have taken more pains to work out this question. It is one that is closely connected with the foundation whereon Christianity rests, the transmission of original sm. Their opinions are not very harmonious, but are of no importance here. They may be reduced under two heads. Some have taught that God, the only and the immediate origin of souls, creates, at the instant of conception, a special soul for the body which comes into being. Others hold that all souls are sprung, like all bodies, from the first man, and that they are propagated in the same way — that is, by generation. This would seem to be the opinion of the majority. Tertullian, St. Jerome, and Lutller held it, as also two philosophers, Malebranche and Leibnitz. The latter held it to be 'the only doctrine wherein philosophy can harmonize with religion.' 2 7O Heredity. If we might be allowed to have an opinion on this subject, we should say that the second opinion would appear the more or- thodox. But we will take the philosophical point of view, and since the idealists say nothing about the relation between the two forms of heredity, we shall have to indicate that relation ourselves. In their system, their logic would lead us to view this relation as follows : — We will start with the fertilized ovum, that source of every- thing that lives. This ovum is not merely an aggregation of molecules, which the physiologist studies under the microscope ; it is also, and above all, a force, that is to say, a manifestation of the soul. Admit if you will (for we idealists have no great liking for this hypothesis) that this soul inherits from its parents certain determinate forms of sensitive, intellectual, and voluntary activity, and that it contains these virtually. The soul thus constituted now sets about fashioning its body. Follow its labours from that moment which caused Harvey so much astonishment, when he saw slender threads like those of a spider's web, stretch out from one corner to another of the matrix, and then saw this network forming a sac which held a white liquid in which appeared the Punctum saliens. Follow this evolution, whose aspect changes sometimes from hour to hour, and whose instability affects the most essential no less than the most accessory portions, so that it might be said that the unseen workman is feeling his way, and that he completes his work only after many a mistake. Pursue your observations to the moment when embryonic life is at an end and extra-uterine life begins, and then see how evolution still goes on, until the being 'is fully constituted ; and you must confess, perhaps unwillingly, that all this is wonderful work, which, in spite of errors, anomalies, and deviations, is not the effect of chance, and that it is not without intelligence, though without conscious- ness. And observe : here the soul is the cause, the organism the effect; consequently, the conclusion is quite natural that the nature of the soul implies that of the body, and that the ground of physiological heredity is to be sought in psychological heredity. Thus, as we believe, and without weakening it at all, this pro- position might be maintained. As for transcendental idealism, which regards as simply physiological all that does not appertain Physiological and Psychological Heredity. 271 to pure intellect 'beyond time and space,' we have already spoken of it when treating of the heredity of the intellectual faculties. If we examine this doctrine, we shall find that it is with it as with all metaphysical hypotheses ; we might refute it, but we can- not extirpate it. The great objection appears reducible to this : that the idea of generation, which is its basis, is utterly unintelli- gible from the idealistic point of view. The idea of generation, in the psychological sense, might be understood in the hypothesis of the equivalence or mutual transformation of two groups of phenomena which are regarded as essentially identical. But that is not the thesis of the idealist. In his view there exists but one only substance, thought, and of this all others are the manifesta- tions. The idea of generation and hereditary transmission results from experience, and can be given only in experience ; if these phenomena are full of mystery they are none the less real, since we may track their course, their evolution. But when you apply them to the ideal, the supersensual order, they represent nothing ; they are but metaphors, empty words, hollow abstractions, since there are no concrete things to which they may be referred. About a century ago, Wollaston, a spiritualistic, even a Christian philosopher, justly said in his essay, The Religion of Nature Delineated, that in the purely ideal order, the fact of generation is unintelligible. 'We should have to explain clearly,' says he, 'what we mean, when we say that a man can transmit the soul, as it is not easy to conceive how thought, or how a thinking substance, could be produced like the branch of a tree. Indeed, we do not see how the expression can be employed, even in a metaphysical sense We should have to define whether this generation proceeds from one, or from both of the parents. If from both, then it follows that one branch may be the product of two different trunks, a thing unexampled in all nature ; and yet such a supposition would be more naturally made with reference to vines and plants, than to intellectual beings, which are simple and incomposite sub- stances. . . . From these considerations we are led to the conclu- sion that there is no other substance save matter ; that the soul, resulting only from the disposition of the body, must be born with it, of father or mother, or both ; and that the generation of the soul is a consequence of the generation ot the body.' Wollaston 272 Heredity. regards this conclusion as materialistic, and, as always occurs in such a case, he sacrifices facts to hypotheses, and argues against heredity. But, as we need have no fears of that bugbear, let us examine the last remaining hypothesis. 2. This hypothesis regards physiological heredity as the cause of psychological heredity. Of course, we speak here only of the immediate and secondary cause, of cause in the order of pheno- mena— that is to say, the invariable antecedent So understood, this solution appears to us the only one that can be accepted. No one questions the influence of the physical on the moral, only it is commonly regarded as transitory, momentary, or at least constantly variable. Thus an excessive absorption of alcohol will produce confusion of thought ; a certain nervous state will cause delirium ; the introduction of hasheesh into the organism will give a feeling of beatitude. These and similar phenomena are very striking, though, in fact, of no great importance. But it is of im- portance to remark that to that habitual, customary state of the organism which we call temperament, or constitution, there must correspond an habitual, customary state of the mind. This admits of no doubt, but it is forgotten. But if we bear in mind the truth that the influence of the physicaKon the moral is permanent ; that it is exerted by means of infinitesimal, but incessantly renewed acts; that there exists a necessary correlation between those two orders of existence which we call body and soul, and this no less as regards secondary and transient, than as regards fundamental and permanent states, which are, as it were, the ground on which phenomena are projected : we shall see that, a permanent phy- siological state implying a correspondent psychological state, physiological heredity must imply psychological heredity. It were puerile to object here that oftentimes a person resembles one of his parents in feature, form, and temperament, though differing in mind ; for plainly the important point here is the heredity of the organic conditions of the mind, i.e. the brain. As we have seen, the organism is not always transmitted entire, and its transmission presents many puzzling anomalies. Physiological heredity will be admitted without hesitation. It seems perfectly natural that the organism which is begotten should be like that which begat it This all understand, or think they Physiological and Psychological Heredity. 273 understand. But why not view psychological heredity in the same way ? Apart from prejudice, routine, and preconceived ideas, which will not give way, the reason is that, rightly enough, people find the idea of generation, as applied to the soul, unintelligible. But all becomes plain if we connect psychological heredity, as effect, with physiological heredity, as cause. We see, then, that this relation of causality between the two heredities is only a particular case of the relations of physical and moral. Its only peculiarity is, that here psychical heredity corre- sponds with permanent tendencies, not only in the individual, but also in the race, the family. Further, whereas physiological heredity is immediate, psychological heredity is indirect, mediate. The organism is transmitted directly; and if, together with the organism, the nervous diathesis of the parents is transmitted, their mental aptitudes are likewise transmitted by this intermediary. It will, perhaps, be asked, seeing that we assert a perfect corre- spondence between nervous and psychical phenomena, why we consider mental heredity as an effect of physiological heredity. Might we not reverse the proposition ? We have already combated that thesis. But, independently of the negative reasons given, there is one which seems to us positive. It is, that experience shows mental development to be always and everywhere subject to organic conditions, while it does not show the converse to be true in a general way. If there is any order of phenomena that is unequivocally worthy of being called psychological, it is the facts of consciousness. But consciousness presupposes for its production definite organic con- ditions. If they do not exist, there is no consciousness ; and when they disappear, consciousness is at an end. And it may be remarked, that as regards the brain, consciousness does not stand in any vague, general relations. Though physiologists still debate as to whether the important point in the brain, considered as a psychological organ, is its weight, or its chemical constitution, or the number of its convolutions, or its form, or its type, it is likely that each of these conditions possesses a special importance of its own. Thus, it may be affirmed that an adult human brain weigh- ing less than two pounds induces that mental state which we call idiocy. 274 Heredity. When, therefore, we say that mental evolution depends on cere- bral evolution, and, consequently, that psychological heredity depends on physiological, we state a plain truth of experience, a generalization drawn from an immense number of facts. Logically, then, the onus probandi lies with idealism ; it is for the idealists to upset our proposition, not for us to disprove theirs. This is a point in logic too often overlooked, to which we would for a moment call attention. It sometimes happens that a good cause is compromised, because we bring all our strength to bear against the opposite opinion, instead of simply defending our own. A metaphysician, reviving an opinion of Descartes, might hold, as I have heard men hold, the hypothesis of animals being mere machines, and might defy us to prove its falsity. It is possible ; but it is enough for us to reply that the metaphysician has to prove it Every doctrine that is based on experience and analogy, and that is in accord with the general laws of the universe, must be re- garded as true until the contrary is proved. Of course it may be false, but, at least, it has in its favour presumptions that it is true, and its upholders are under no obligation to refute the opposite doctrines, so long as they are only likely or probable. Such, we take it, is our position in regard to the idealistic thesis. That is, our doctrine rests on experience, against which an a priori theory is of no weight. Still, we should not be surprised if to some it savours strongly of materialism. To this difficulty, we might in the first place reply, that if it is true it must nevertheless be accepted, whatever its character ; that it is impossible to protest too strongly against an unphilosophical tendency which would judge doctrines, not accord- ing to their worth, but according to the brand they bear ; and that philosophy cannot approve such a tendency without postponing truth to something else — that is to say, without committing suicide. We might also remark that, for us, materialism is only a phantom that disappears so soon as you face it resolutely ; it is like ghosts, which alarm only those who believe in them. But it is better tc meet the difficulty face to face, and to show that the objection is without force. In the first place, it is clear so long as we confine ourselves to the investigation of second and immediate causes — and we shall Physiological and Psychological Heredity. 275 again repeat that our investigation goes no further — the given solu- tion cannot be either materialistic or spiritualistic. To connect psychological with physiological heredity is simply to state a fact, and it is for experience alone to say whether the affirmation is true or false. But if it be desired at all hazards to raise the insoluble question of the ultimate cause, this is our answer : A materialistic doctrine is no doubt one that desires to explain all things, and in particular the phenomena of mind, by the properties of matter, matter being regarded as the sole reality. But we have shown that such a doctrine is an utter illusion, inasmuch as the concept of matter is finally resolved into notions of force, resistance, colour, motion, and so forth, all of which are data of consciousness ; so that it might, without paradox, be asserted that the substructure of matter is mind. We may remark that our solution is perfectly reconcilable with this metaphysical hypothesis — that is to say, with the extremest idealism. In fact, the only difference between us is one only of position ; we reason from the standpoint of experience, the idealist from the standpoint of the absolute. We debate the question only within the strict bounds cf experience ; the idealist goes in search of perfect integration, because, to his eyes, nothing is known so long as we know only the relative. Further, it is said that materialism is that doctrine which from the inferior deduces the superior, from the worse the better. Is not this what we have just been doing, when subordinating mental heredity to organic ? If the nature of the matter be considered, it will be seen that this question has no place here. Our subject is only one case in the vast science of the relations between the physical and the moral. That science does not inquire what is body, or what spirit, nor is it required to subordinate either of these to the other. It is naturally divided into two parts : the influence of the organism on mental manifestations, and the influence of mental manifestations on the organism. To the first part belongs the question of heredity. It is thus only a small portion of a very extensive science, which itself lies outside of metaphysics. Heredity, thus understood, appears to us to be merely one of 276 Heredity. the many physiological influences to which mental development is subject; but it is a mistake to suppose that this implies a metaphysical solution. It is true that by the law of heredity, the higher is subordinated to the lower ; but it would be to go beyond experience, and to risk a wholly gratuitous assertion, to assert that heredity absolutely proves the dependence of the higher on the lower, of the better on the worse. IL Thus to the question originally stated, ' What is the cause oi psychological heredity?' we may reply, not transcending the domain of experience, 'Physiological heredity.' Because the organism, and in particular the nervous system, is transmissible, therefore the various modes of sensation, instinct, imagination, intellect, sentiment, are also transmissible. Psychological heredity being thus referred to physiological, as to its immediate cause, we have to inquire the cause of this latter, and to ask how physiological heredity is produced. In the present state of biology we cannot hope for any positive explanation of heredity. We are reduced to hypothesis. The most recent of these, and the best wrought out, is that of Darwin, in his Variation of Animals and Plants under Domesti- cation, the broad outlines of which are found in Spencer's Principles of Biology. It bears the name of pangenesis. To understand it aright, we must first remember that con- temporary physiology looks on every living body, regardless of its unity, as an aggregate of cells in prodigious numbers, each of which has a life of its own, and possesses the fundamental properties of life — nutrition, by which it is ever assimilating and disassimilating ; evolution, by Avhich it grows in volume and be- comes complicated into more perfect and more numerous parts; reproduction, in virtue of which each cell can produce another, that cell a third, and so on. Virchow has shown that a single cell may be diseased ; so that it may be said that this automatic element plays in the organism the same part as the individual in the State, having a certain degree of independence, though con- stituting an integral part of the body social. Physiological and Psychological Heredity. 277 A curious instance of the power of reproduction in the cell is found in the begonia phyllomaniaca. If a piece of the leaf of this plant be taken, and planted in suitable soil, maintained at a proper temperature, a young begonia will spring from it ; and so small is the fragment that is capable of producing an entire plant, that a single leaf may produce about one hundred plants.1 Nor is this all, for each plant so produced in tuni develops on its shoots and on its leaves myriads of similar cells, inheriting the same property of becoming, in their turn, like plants. Thus the original cell, on leaving the mother plant, inherits not only the power of self-reproduction, but multiplies it, and distributes it without any diminution of its energy to all the cells of the plant it produces, and this for countless generations. To explain this power of reproduction and hereditary trans- mission in living beings in general, Darwin offers the provisional hypothesis of pangenesis, ' which implies that each of the atoms or units constituting an organism reproduces itself. ' It is almost universally admitted, he tells us, that the cells, propagated by spontaneous division, preserve the same nature and are ultimately converted into different substances and bodily tissues. Alongside of this mode of multiplication, I suppose that the cells, prior to their conversion into formed and perfectly passive material, emit minute grains or atoms which freely circulate through the entire system, and when they find sufficient nutrition afterwards develop into cells like those from which they came. These atoms we will call gemmules. We assume that they are transmitted by parents to their descendants, and that usually they develop in the generation immediately following, though for several generations they may be transmitted in the dormant state and develop at a later period. It is supposed that gemmules are emitted by each cell or unit, not only during its adult state, but during all its states of development. Finally, we assume that the gemmules have a mutual attraction for one another, and hence their aggregation into germs and sexual elements. Thus, strictly speaking, it is not either the reproductive elements or the germs A Herbert Spencer, Principles of Biology, vol. i. § 65 2 78 Heredity. that produce new organisms, but rather the cells themselves, or units constituting the whole body.1 It may be observed that no valid objection can be drawn from the extreme minuteness of these gemmules, our notions of size being purely relative. When we bear in mind that the ascaris may produce about 64,000,000 cva, and a single orchid nearly as many million seeds; and that the organic particles emitted by scent-secreting animals, and the contagious molecules of certain diseases, must be of excessive tenuity, the objection will not appear very weighty. Hence, ' we must consider each living being as a microcosm, made up of a multitude of organisms capable of self-reproduc- tion, of inconceivable minuteness, and as numerous as the stars of heaven.' This hypothesis enables Darwin to explain a great number of phenomena, very different in appearance, which, how- ever, physiology regards as essentially identical. Among these we may name gemmiparity, or reproduction from buds, fissiparity, where reproduction is effected by spontaneous or artificial division, sexual generation, parthenogenesis, alternate generation, the de- velopment of the embryo, repair of the tissues, growth of new members in place of those which are lost (as occurs in the case of the lobster, the salamander and the snail) — in short, all modes of reproduction whatsoever, and all the modes and all the varieties of heredity. We have seen that a distinction may be drawn between characters which are developed and those which are simply transmitted. Transmission may take place without development, as is proved by the very numerous facts of atavism and reversional heredity, whether under the direct or the collateral form. Thrs phenome- non, which we have compared with alternate generations, is very well explained by Darwin's hypothesis. The common fact of a grandfather transmitting to his grandson, by his daughter, cha- racters which she does not or cannot possess, can only be under- stood on the supposition that in the daughter they exist in the latent state; or, to give a physiological basis to this idea, gemmules 1 Darwin, Variation, etc,, vol. ii. chap. xvii. Physiological and Psychological Heredity. 279 are transmitted to the second generation, and preserved there, which are developed only in the third. Darwin also explains how modifications of bodily or mental habits may be hereditary. ' According to our view, we need only suppose that certain cells come to be modified, as well in their structure as in their functions, and then they give out gemmules similarly modified . . . When a psychic attribute, a mental habit, or insanity is hereditary, we must hold that there has really taken place a transmission of some effective modification, and this, on our hypothesis, would imply that gemmules springing from modified nerve-cells are transmitted to the descendants.' Of course these modified habits become fixed only in time, since the organism must subsist amid novel conditions for a considerable period, so that these may act upon it, modify its cells, and make possible the transmission of a larger and larger number of modified cells. In the preceding remarks we have reasoned only from physio- logical data. But we know that in the question of heredity the antithesis of psychological and physiological is a simple difference of standpoint These cells and gemmules are not brute, inani- mate matter ; they are possessed of force, of life, of tendencies, and we have seen that it is as difficult to conceive of the material without the spiritual as of the spiritual without the material. There- fore the hypothesis is applicable as well to mental as to organic heredity, and if it holds good for the one, it holds good also for the other. It may, in fact, be seen how well the two orders appear to correspond. In the physiological order, at its lowest stage, we have as an irreducible element the cell, or physiological unit, possessed of a life of its own. From the consensus of countless lives of this kind results the general life of the being whose unity appears to us as a resultant, a harmony. This harmony, in proportion as we ascend the scale of organisms, tends more and more to perfect unity, with- out ever reaching that ideal. In the psychological order, at its lowest stage, we have as the irreducible element or psychological unit, force as it exists in every cell, or, at least, nerve-power as it exists in every nerve-cell. From the consensus of all these infinitesimal psychical acts, centralized in the ganglia, and afterwards in the brain, results psychological 18 2 So Heredity. life, which, in proportion as we ascend the scale of being, passes from the simultaneous to the successive form — which is the neces- sary condition of consciousness — and tends more and more to- ward perfect unity, personality, the ego, without ever attaining it absolutely. Thus the parallelism is complete between these two orders of facts, which at bottom are only one ; and so we can understand, or at least suspect, how the two orders of heredity may flow from the same cause.1 Enough, however, has been said hypothetically, and we must conclude. To sum up : we think we have proved that psychological heredity has its cause in physiological heredity, and that this cannot be reasonably disputed. The two heredities, being thus reduced to one, we again sought for the cause of heredity, and found only a hypothesis, probable indeed, but which, lying beyond the limits of experience, cannot be verified. The definite result of these researches — and the point is so important that it must be again and again repeated — is that heredity is identity as far as is possible ; it is one being in many. ' The cause of heredity,' says Hackel, ' is the partial identity of the materials which constitute the organism of the parent and child, and the division of this substance at the time of reproduction.' Heredity, in fact, is to be considered only as a kind of growth, like the spontaneous division of a unicellular plant of the simplest organization. Having studied the Facts, the Laws, and the Causes, we have now to look at the practical side of heredity, the Consequences. 1 Compare the very bold and ingenious hypothesis of Herbert Spencer (Psy- chology, 2nd Edition, § 139), of which the following is the substance. Our sciences, our arts, our civilization, all social phenomena, however multitudinous and complicated, are reduced on final analysis to a certain number of feelings and thoughts. These in turn are referred to the primitive sensations, to the data of the five senses. The senses are reducible to touch. Physiology goes far to confirm the saying of Democritus, that all the senses are modifications of touch. Touch itself has its basis in those primordial properties which distin- guish organic from inorganic matter. And many facts point to the conclusion that sensibility of all kinds takes its rise out of those fundamental processes v>f integration and disintegration, in which life in its primitive form consists. PART FOURTH. THE CONSEQUENCES. Thus out of savages come at length our Newtons and Shakespeares. Herbert Spencer. CHAPTER I. HEREDITY AND THE LAW OF EVOLUTION. I. THE idea of progress is quite modern. Its originators in the seventeenth century were Bacon, Descartes, Pascal, and, above all, Leibnitz. In the eighteenth century it was the object of a lively faith for all the philosophers of that period. In the nineteenth century it has become almost a commonplace. Still, in its current form, it is vague and incomplete. First, it is vague. The word progress has no very definite meaning. For some it represents merely the act of advancing, for others it means improvement, which is a very different thing. Moreover, the common view accepts progress as a fact, without inquiring after its law, its cause. Is it a chance product, or has it a law, and if so, what is the law ? What is the hidden form in the nature of things ? What the productive power that determines its being ? These questions are not even asked. It is incomplete, and this is a still graver defect. By an un- scientific illusion, but one that is perfectly natural to man, we look at progress only from the human point of view. In the view of nearly every one progress means the transition from bad to middling, from middling to good, from good to better — in short, improvement. As history shows that humanity generally advances from the less to the more perfect, as we see that as time goes on manners tend to become milder, life easier, habits more moral, social institutions more just, political institutions more liberal, knowledge more diffused, and beliefs more reasonable, we conclude that in spite of all retrogressive movements, in spite of exceptions, illu- sions, and disappointments, the victory after all is with progress — that is to say, the improvement of man and his moral surroundings j 284 Heredity. and we say with Herder, that humanity is like a drunken man, who, after many a step forward and many a step backward, yet at last reaches his destination. Progress, so understood, is a human fact, restricted to the sphere of the moral and political sciences, and limited to history, as having the same bounds as liberty. A more exact, and at the same time a broader, view would lead us to see in human progress only a part of the total progress, and to substitute for this equivocal expression the more appropriate terms, evolution or development This substitute is highly important, for in the place of a human, subjective, hypothetical opinion, it sets a cosmic, objective, scientific system. Progress no longer appears as the law of humanity only, but as the law of universal nature. The idea of evolution in this wide and trus sense will doubtless ever be considered one of the grandest philosophic conceptions of the nineteenth century. Born of the study of the natural sciences, of religions, languages, history, of all that changes and lives, it has in turn given to these studies a new meaning, has quickened and renovated them. Hegel was the first to attempt the grand syn- thesis which must one day reduce all things under the law of a perpetual coming into being. His metaphysical hypothesis may have perished, as so many more have perished, but the radical idea of his system remains. Better still, new aspects of the law of evolution have since appeared in the whole field of science. To cite only one instance, the bold hypothesis which takes its name from Darwin has given a new shape to the question of the origin of species, and has brought it to bear on the highest problems of philosophy. The latest essay in philosophical synthesis based on the idea of evolution is the work of Herbert Spencer. This synthesis, the outlines of which are given in his essays, while its definite form is given in his first principles, is intended to cover and explain in detail the phenomena of biology, psychology, sociology, and morals. It not only possesses the merit, as being recent, of includ- ing a larger number of facts and of partial doctrines ; its true merit consists in substituting for Hegel's subjective, metaphysical method an objective, scientific one — the method of the natural sciences. Thus the law of evolution — stripped of all teleological ideas, and Heredity and the Law of Evolution. 285 having as its result not man's welfare but the necessary develop- ment of the cosmos ; not progress in the purely human sense, and our advance toward perfection, but the advance of the universe toward an ever-increasing complexity — may be referred to the laws of mechanics, to the ultimate laws of motion j and thus the problem of the universe, considered from the standpoint o* evolution, becomes a problem of dynamics. It would carry us beyond our subject to sketch this antithesis here. It will suffice for us to note its chief features, and to indicate the cause and the law of evolution. Considered in general, every evolution may be defined as an integration ; and this explains, in a certain sense, how it is always a transition from less to greater. Its law is the transition from the homogeneous to the heterogeneous, from the uniform to the multiform, from the less to the more coherent, from the indefinite to the definite — these various expressions indicating the various ' aspects of one and the same change, which is essentially identical. Thus it is that in astronomy evolution explains the transition from the almost homogeneous primitive nebulae to our solar system, with its planets and satellites varying so widely in density, velocity and distance from the centre ; in geology, the transition from the rela- tively homogeneous primitive igneous mass to the earth as it is, the surface of which alone appears to us so heterogeneous ; in biology, the transition from the inferior organisms of the primitive ages to the multiform fauna and flora of the present ; in psych- ology, the transition from undeveloped and embryonic forms of mind to states more and more complex ; in sociology, the transition from the simple societies of primitive times to the most complicated and most heterogeneous societies of our epoch ; in history, the development of languages, mechanic arts and fine arts, and their ever multiplying subdivisions. Thus evolution consists -in an integration, a transition from simple to complex. But this uniform process presupposes some fundamental necessity from which it results. This universal law implies a universal cause. The reason of this universal trans- formation of homogeneous into heterogeneous is this, that every active form produces more than one change, and every cause more than one effect Thus a shock will produce motion, sound, heat, 286 Heredity. and light A little small-pox virus in the organism will produce very numerous morbid phenomena. An economic reform will lead to many industrial and social consequences. Everywhere, in short, even when the cause is simple, the effects are manifold. Evolution thus understood, and both as to its law and as to its cause reduced to * a purely physical interpretation ' of phenomena, offers a scientific character which is not possessed by the current doctrine of progress. Then, too, the latter, being concerned only with human welfare, and considering that as the final cause of all change, finds itself much embarrassed in view of sundry incontest- able facts which show that humanity at certain periods stays and retraces its steps. Evolution explains these facts. The develop- ment theory, as Lyell well observes, implies no necessary progres- sion. It is possible for a new race to be of simpler structure, and of less developed understanding, than those which it displaces ; a slight advantage is sufficient to insure it the victory over its rivals. The law of evolution accounts equally well for progress and for what is called degradation — that is, a retrograde movement towards an inferior structure, or a lower form of dynamism. It is sufficient if a being so degraded, whether physically or morally, is better adapted to its new conditions of existence than a being more highly endowed. Now that we have fixed a precise meaning on the words evolu- tion, development, and progress, we can see how this law governs the whole question of the consequences of heredity. In this portion of our work we propose to show how heredity has con- tributed to the formation of certain intellectual or sensitive faculties, and of certain moral habits. We can now have a glimpse of this truth. Heredity and evolution are the two neces sary factors of every stable modification in the domain of life. Suppose evolution without heredity, and every change becomes transitory : every modification whatever, whether of good or bad, useful or hurtful, disappears with the individual. Evolution con- fined within these narrow limits, loses all significance and all force ; it is nothing but an accident, without any value. Suppose heredity without evolution, and there is nothing but the monotonous conservation of the same types, fixed once for all Physiological characters, instincts, intellectual and moral faculties, Heredity and the Law of Evolution. 287 are preserved and transmitted without modification. Nothing in- creases, nothing diminishes, nothing changes. On the other hand, suppose both evolution and heredity, and then life and variation become possible. Evolution produces physiological and psychological modifications ; habit fixes these in the individual, heredity fixes them in the race. These modifica- tions as they accumulate, and in course of time, become organic, make new modifications possible in the succession of generations ; thus heredity becomes in a manner a creative power. This fact of the heredity of acquired modifications has made its appearance often in the course of the present work ; though we shall have to examine it in detail further on, it will be useful to dwell upon it here for a little while, as it will give us a better understanding of the relations between heredity and the law of evolution. In the physiological introduction we showed that acquired modifications can certainly be transmitted. We have seen, for instance, that animals artificially made epileptic transmit that morbid disposition to their descendants. We have also seen that this point is possessed of some difficulty, for facts seem to show that these deviations from the type tend to return to the normal state, and that the law is, that accidental states are not perpetuated, but that, after subsisting for a few generations at longest, they first grow fainter, and then disappear. Thus we should return to the difficulty we met at the outset, that we should have evolution without heredity, or at best with only a restricted heredity, yielding no results of any importance. The difficulty, however, is only an apparent one. Even were we to accept the hypothesis of a return to the primitive type, which is the one most at variance with our theory, it will be observed that this return has no place except when a race is left to itself. The experience of breeders shows that certain physiological characters can be thoroughly fixed and perpetuated by continual selection, notwith- standing some exceptions and cases of reversion ; but education acts upon the mental faculties precisely as the breeder's art acts on the organism and its functions. We shall see that the capacity for seizing abstract ideas, and for complying with the conditions of civilized life, becomes fixed only after a considerable length of time in certain races ; these, left to themselves, return also to the 288 Heredity. primitive type. Thus there is established in the individual, between the heredity of the natural characters and that of the acquired characters, a conflict, in which nature must win if art does not counteract it Bacon's saying is true of heredity, as of all natural laws : Natura non nisi parendo vinciiur. But with the aid of art, under the constant influence of education, or of the same moral environment, acquired characters become fixed; and then there is established in our psychical constitution a second nature, so intimately blended with the former, that usually they cannot be distinguished. To sum up : without the law of evolution, nothing is simpler than to determine the consequences of heredity. It would not be worth while to study them separately, for they would consist only in the indefinite conservation of the same specific characters. But with evolution all is different The living being tends incessantly to be modified by causes both internal and external. The internal causes determine those spontaneous modifications of the organism and of the dynamism \vhich, as we have seen, some authors explain by a law of spontaneity, such as a new physical character, or a new mental aptitude. By external causes we mean the action of cir- cumstances, which have as strong an influence on the moral as on the physical being, and which in time tend to fashion it in a certain manner. In the battle of life, the struggle for existence, that great biological fact which Darwin has so well established that his adversaries themselves have accepted it, these modifications con- stitute for the individual a probability of its survival, if by them it is better adapted to new conditions. They render it possible for the living being in the first place to subsist, and then to perpetuate itself. Heredity, which is essentially a conservative force, tends to transmit to the descendants the whole nature of their parents ; as well every deterioration, physical, mental, and moral, as every physical, mental, and moral amelioration. The blind fatality of its laws regulates not alone progress, but also decay. Man, therefore, as he comes into the world, is not the impres- sionless statue dreamt of by Bonnet and Condillac. Not only is he possessed of a certain constitution, a certain nervous organi- zation, which predisposes him to feel, to think, and to act after a Heredity and the Law of Evolution. 289 manner which is peculiar and personal to himself, but we may even affirm that the experience of countless generations slumbers in him. So far is he from being homogeneous, that all the past has contributed to his constituents. The present state of his mechanism and his dynamism is the result of innumerable modi- fications slowly accumulated ; and it may be affirmed that were heredity to act alone, and were there no crossings, no spontaneous variations, no psychical combinations or transformations, the secret of which we cannot penetrate, the descendants would be necessarily inclined to feel and to think as their ancestors. II. This hasty statement shows that heredity is one of the chief factors of the law of evolution ; that by accumulating slight differ- ences, heredity produces effects apparently out of all proportion with the original causes. The living being is subject to the action of its environment and modified by it ; nor does man, considered as a thinking, sentient being, escape this law. Hence we see at one time an amelioration, at another a deterioration of his faculties. Chance, but especially education, may develop his intellect, his character, his imagination, his sentiments; and — since these ac- quired modifications are sometimes transmitted by heredity, and, in fact, taking everything into account, are mostly transmitted — we may say that the evolution of the psychical faculties is a law of the intellectual world, and that the gain made by each generation is to the advantage of those which follow. But where man has discovered a law — that is, an invariable rule — which governs a group of phenomena, if these phenomena are within his reach, or come under his control, he can modify them, because he holds in his hands the mainspring that moves and governs them. Thus he is acquainted with the laws of heredity : he knows that they exist and act, notwithstanding many exceptions which mask their action. Can he turn them to account ? Can he employ them for the perfecting of his species ? Let us put the question in clearer and more explicit terms. The starting-point is a race of medium intelligence, morality, and artistic and industrial capacity. The goal is a race, quick of comprehension and expert in action, well- disciplined, of gentle manners, and easily adapting itself to the 290 Heredity. complicated forms of civilization. The problem is, how we are to raise the masses to the level of those who, at the outset, were greatly above them. Can this be done ? We would observe, first of all, that so far is this aspiration from being chimerical, that every effort of civilization has it and it alone in view. But the end is attained by means of education, an external agency, different from heredity, which acts from within. As we view it, education is unequal to this task. There remains, in some natures, a substratum of unintelligent savagery which may be overlaid by civilization, but never done away. Hereditary transmission alone could modify them. We will return to this point hereafter.1 From the psychological standpoint, therefore, the only one that concerns us here, the question takes this form : Can we, by means of selection and heredity, increase in a race the sum of its in- telligence and morality ? Heredity is an effect — it depends on generation, and generation depends on the nature of the agents; it is, therefore, at the root of the matter. How assort the parents with a view to the ameliora- tion of the race ? This question, simple as it appears, has given rise to inextricable disputes, which we thus summarize : — Suppose a large family, gifted physically and morally, its members healthy, strong, intelligent, active ; assign to them all some one talent, that for the stage, for instance, as in the Kemble family. Ought the members to intermarry with one another in order to fix this talent definitively, and to make it organic, so to speak? Some will call such a union desirable, others detestable. There is an eager contest in our day over this question of consanguineous marriages. Ancient legislation, evidently giving expression to the prevailing opinions, and which must have been based as well on experience as on prejudice, is not at all unanimous on this point. Consanguineous marriages are condemned by the laws of Manu, the Mosaic code, the laws of Rome, the decrees of the Christian councils, and the texts of the Koran. Thus opinion has been adverse to them among nearly all civilized peoples; yet the ancient laws of the Persians and of the Egyptians permitted the marriage 1 See chap. iii. § a. Heredity and the Law of Evolution. 291 of the nearest relatives. In Syria consanguineous marriages were common, at least in the reigning families, from the earliest times down to the end of the Seleucidoe. As for savage races, such as the Samoiedes, Tartars, Caribs, American Indians, etc., their customs in one place allow such marriages, in another proscribe them. Passing from the practical domain of customs to the theoretic domain of science, we meet with the same state of indecision.1 According to Darwin, the consequences of close interbreeding in animals, carried on for too long a time, are generally believed to be loss of size, of vigour, and of fertility. He cites the opinions of several breeders in confirmation of this. Yet 'with cattle there can be no doubt that close interbreeding may be long carried on advantageously with respect to external characters, and with no manifestly apparent evil as far as constitution is concerned.' Bates, a well-known breeder, says that 'interbreeding with bad stock is ruinous and disastrous, but with first class cattle it may be practised safely within certain limits.' A flock of sheep has been kept up, in France, during sixty years without the intro- duction of a single strange ram. With pigs on the other hand long continued interbreeding is attended with the most disastrous results. ' Mr. J. Wright, well known as a breeder, crossed a boar with his daughter, granddaughter, and great-granddaughter, and so on for seven generations ; the result was, that in many instances the offspring were sterile, others died, and among those which survived a certain number were idiotic, incapable of sucking, or walking straight.' As regards birds, Danvin finds a considerable number of proofs which condemn unions between the same blood. He refuses to consider the question as it concerns man, ' since it is there surrounded by prejudice,' still he seems not to be in favour of consanguineous marriages. Other authors condemn them without reserve, among these Prosper Lucas and Dr. Boudin. The latter, taking his stand on a great number of facts and figures, considers them as the undoubted cause of very many morbid phenomena, several of which concern 1 Lucas, vol. ii. p. 903 ; Bulletins de la Sodttt d1 Anthropolo^ic, vols. i. iii. iv. and vi. ; Darwin, Variatwn, etc., vol. ii. ch. xvii. 292 Heredity. the mental life, as, for instance, deaf-muteness, idiocy, and epilepsy. In his view, consanguinity is of itself essentially baneful, and deter- mines, without the concurrence of any other morbific cause, the appearance of many grave diseases and infirmities.1 ' History,' says Lucas, ' witnesses to the disastrous consequences which it brings on man.' ' Aristocracies obliged to recruit their numbers from among themselves become extinct,' says Niebuhr ; 'in the same way often passing through degeneracy, insanity, dementia and imbecility.' Esquirol and Spurzheim, at least, give this reason for the frequency of mental alienation and of its heredity among the great families of France and England. Deaf- muteness in humbler families appears also to have the same origin. It would not perhaps be rash to see an effect of consanguinity in the premature decline of the Lagidae, and of the Seleucidae. The Lagidae from Ptolemy Soter down to Cleopatra and Caesarion ( — 323 till 3°) reckon sixteen sovereigns, and the Seleucidae, from Seleucus Nicator to Antiochus Asiaticus ( — 311 till 64) reckon twenty. They often married their sisters, their nieces, or their aunts. Moreover, when the marriages were not consanguineous, alliances were formed between these two effete families, the Lagidse nearly always marrying Seleucidae, and the Seleucidae marrying Lagidae. Now, it is certain that these races were in a state of perpetual decay, in proportion as they became more remote from their two or three first founders. To these many reasons against consanguineous marriages nothing but exceptional cases seem to be opposed. Burdach attributes good results to consanguinity, but only among animals. Dr. Bourgeois wrote the history of his own family, which was the 1 Memoir de la Socittt d'Anthrofologie. According to Dr. Boudin, the danger of consanguineous marriages is shown by the following facts. In Berlin there were in 10,000 Catholics 3 deaf-mutes in 10,000 Protestants 6 „ in 10,000 Jews 27 „ In the United States, in 1840, the negro population, who were given to pro- miscuity, showed in Iowa 91 times as many deaf-mutes as the whites. These figures, and the inferences drawn from them, have been questioned See Bulletins de la Sod'ete TAnthropologie, vols. iii. and iv. Heredity and the Law of Evolution. 293 issue of a union in the third degree of consanguinity. In the course of one hundred and sixty years there were ninety-one marriages in that family, sixteen of them consanguineous, and yet there resulted neither infirmity nor sterility. Similar facts are cited by MM. Voisin and Dalby. There are two small French islands, Batz and Brehat, in which consanguineous marriages are very frequent, yet the population is healthy and vigorous. The two opinions may, perhaps, as M. de Quatrefages observes, be reconciled. The tendency of heredity is to reproduce the whole being ; the child is only a resultant, a compromise between the tendencies of both the parents. If these tendencies are the same, they are all the more evident in the product. If the parents enjoy perfect health, consanguinity will tend to preserve it in their descendants, and then, so far from being prejudicial, it will have good results. But that perfect equilibrium which constitutes physical and moral health may easily be disturbed in the parents, and then the consequences will become more and more evident in the children. Now, in consanguineous marriages the chances are many that this disturbance of equilibrium will be of a like nature in both of the parents. Hence it follows that in many cases such unions will be injurious, and all the more dangerous in proportion as the morbid predispositions common to both parties are more marked. ' The consequence we are to draw from all these facts would appear to be, that near relationship between father and mother is not in itself hurtful, but that, in virtue of the laws govern- ing heredity, it oftentimes becomes so ; and hence, in view of the eventualities to which consanguinity leads, it is at least prudent to avoid consanguineous marriage.' x It would therefore appear that the ' in and in' method adopted for the improvement of the lower races would have little likelihood of success if applied to man, and that we must renounce this plan of fixing and of making organic certain intellectual aptitudes. The process of crossing families would probably be better. This would consist in selecting a pair out of two different families, both pos- sessed in a high degree of the particular quality, talent or tendency, which it is desired to transmit to the progeny in increased proper- 1 Quatrefages, Rapport sur Us Progrh de FAnthropolog if, p. 461. 294 Heredity. tion. This proposed selection has but rarely been attempted, and never uninterruptedly. Instances of it might be found in mediaeval times, in the golden age of the aristocracy. Often then, when an alliance was about to be formed, there was required on both sides not only well-authenticated noble descent, but also vigour, valour, courage, loyalty, piety — in short, all the chivalric virtues which it was desired to transmit to the children. It can hardly be doubted that if this selection were carried out methodically it would lead to good results for the improvement of the human race. Of course there would be many exceptions, many failures, many unforeseen anomalies, produced by chance, or by reversional heredity ; the phenomena of heredity are too complex and too delicate to be produced with the mathematical regularity of a machine; but it is probable that the general result would nevertheless be excellent Still, it may be objected that any such method as this would be only half successful. Grant that in this way we could perpetuate for the common good a nearly constant sum of eminent, illus- trious, or merely notable men, or grant, even, that the number of such could be increased, there would still remain a far larger number of inferior minds of which heredity would perpetuate the deficiencies, just as, ex hypothesi, it perpetuates the superior qualities of the others. Must we dream that the case admits of no remedy ? Must we admit that here the law of competition is in force, and that it will in course of time stamp out whatever does not rise to a certain level ? May we hold that crosses judiciously contrived between one class and another might raise up that which is beneath, without lowering that which is above ? Would civiliza- tion be the gainer? Or would such crosses only produce a uniform level of mediocrity ? These questions may be debated, but not resolved. Some writers hold that a physically and morally superior race, when united with an inferior one, lowers itself without raising the other, so that all such alliances would constitute a loss to civiliza- tion. This opinion is enforced with a hardy logic by the author of a voluminous work on the Inequality of Human Races}- In his 1 De Gobineau, Essai sur Flntgalitt da Rates Humaines, 4 vols. 8vo. Heredity and the Law of Evolution. 295 view, there are three races of men, perfectly distinct and different, not by any mere external difference, but by a radical and essential one ; the blood of one race is as different from that of another ' as water is different from alcohol.' These three races are the black, the yellow, and the white. The black race, which is unin- tellectual, sensual, passionate, abandoning itself to its instincts, represents, according to M. de Gobineau, the female element The yellow is the male element ; it possesses a positive mind, a narrow intellect, a love of comfort, utilitarian tendencies, and totally lacks artistic aptitude. The white is the noble race, gifted with superior faculties, and possessing aptitudes for poetry, sciences, and politics. Of this noble race the noblest branch is the Aryan, and of this branch the noblest family is the Germanic. The first two races, left to themselves, are totally incapable of attaining to civilization. This power is possessed only by the white race. But in lifting the other two out of barbarism the white race itself is degraded by contact with them. What the other two races gain the white loses, just as when an exquisite wine is mixed with wines of inferior quality. Nor is this all ; not only is the mongrel race inferior to the white, but also, inasmuch as every cross is in itself a cause of degradation, it follows that the white blood, though it does not change in quantity, yet loses its virtues on occasion of every new cross. From all this the reader will conjecture what our author thinks of modern civilization. An epoch which, by travel and by the multiplied needs of commerce and civilization, brings all peoples into mutual contact, and brings about alliances of every description, is, in his eyes, a ' horrible con- fusion.' The white race, which was uncontaminated in the time of .the gods, still pure enough in the heroic age, already tainted in the days of the aristocracy, has now entered 'the era of unity.' When the confusion becomes complete, and when the white blood in every human creature shall bear to that of the other races the ratio of one to two, then ' the nations, or rather the human herds, oppressed by a gloomy somnolence, will live swallowed up in their nullity, like buffaloes ruminating in the stagnant puddles of the Pontine Marshes. Our shameful descendants will surrender to vigorous nature the universal dominion of the earth, and the human creature will be no longer her master, but only a guest, 296 Heredity. like the inhabitants of the woods and waters.' Humanity will have existed from twelve to fourteen thousand years.1 If we accept M. de Gobineau's doctrine, and apply to families what he says of races and peoples, the conclusion to be drawn from it is evident enough. We should say to them : Beware of all admixture, and preserve your blood pure at any cost Do not try to bring up to your own level inferior members of the human race, men, peoples, or races, for you would lose far more than they could gain. But this conclusion appears to us very rash; and though on this point there are many hypotheses and conjec- tures, and but few truly scientific assertions, though the facts are so contradictory as to warrant every possible interpretation, still it seems to us that there are some very good arguments against this theory of pure races, this horror for all admixture. In the first place, I do not think that, with perhaps the ex- ception of China, history presents a single instance of any great civilization, without a preliminary mingling of peoples and races. Take the Arabs, originally Asiatic. So long as the race remained pure, it made little or no progress. Mahomet appeared, and then they overran, as conquerors, Asia, Africa, and Spain, giving rise to the great civilization of Persia, Damascus, Bagdad, and Cordova. The Jewish people, rigidly exclusive as they were, had to admit some Syrian, Persian, Phoenician, and Greek elements, in order to work out their own civilization. Nor were the indigenous civiliz- ations of the New World exempt from this law. The Incas of Peru were a superior race that came to that country at a late period in its history, probably in the thirteenth century. The Aztecs in Mexico, who were conquered by Cortes, had been pre- ceded by the Chichimecs and the Toltecs. But not to multiply instances, it is evident that civilization, being by its nature a com- plex state, a harmony, many dissimilar and even unequal elements were needed to form it The more we advance in the knowledge 1 M. Gobineau's view has been held in a very mitigated form by M. Pcrier, who, in his Essai sur la Croisements Ethniques, takes chiefly the physiological standpoint. He also inclines to the opinion that any race that is endowed with any natural gift loses much by crossing. The author, notwithstanding, admits that ' the people of purest blood is not therefore the least civilized, and viceversd.' Heredity and the Law of Evolution. 297 of nature, the more convinced do we become of this truth : that the highest phenomena of thought and life are also the most complex, and that, as a general rule, the inferior is always the simpler. Civilization has everywhere grown by contact, mixtuTe, union. ' The more elements a people gains,' says M. Serres, ' the more it advances; the life of a people augments in proportion as its characteristics are multiplied.' Nor is there anything to prove that when two families or two races combine the mixture is rudely made, as in the mingling of wines. It may be that talent, cha- racters, and new aptitudes may be revealed by the mere fact of cross-breeding, just as in chemistry two bodies which combine form a third possessing new properties. But ethnic chemistry is not sufficiently advanced to warrant this opinion, and therefore we must be content with simple conjecture. We now return to our original question : When two elements cross, one inferior and the other superior, does the latter finally get the mastery, so that in the end there is a clear profit for the human race ? This problem is far from being solved, especially in its psychic aspects, as psychologists have studied it only cursorily and in a general way. Half-breeds have furnished the chief materials for this study, for in them it is more easily pursued. The mixed elements being widely different — usually blacks and whites — are naturally mag- nified, so that we can study them, as it were, through a microscope. Some naturalists regard these mixed races as doomed to dis- appear, either because the race has but little fecundity, or because the individual possesses but little vital resistance. Yet, according to M. Omalius d'Halloy, if we take the whole population of the globe as 750,000,000, the half-breeds would count at least 10,000,000. In Mexico and in South America they have in three centuries risen to be about one-fifth of the total population. D'Orbigny, who has closely studied man in America, is a strong partizan of cross-breeding between nations. 'Among the nations in America,' says he, 'the product is always superior to the two types that are mixed.' Finally, in Polynesia, and in the Marquesas Isles in particular, while the indigenous population is falling away with fearful rapidity, the half-breeds are increasing in numbers, so that this region seems destined to be re-peopled by a race half 298 Heredity. European and half Polynesian. If we admit, with seme authors, that it needs several generations, or even several centuries, for a crossed race to adapt itself to its surroundings, and for the reversional heredity, which goes back to the primitive types, to be firmly established, we can foresee the time when the number of half-breeds will be far larger than it is at present. But what is their mental value? Do they stand much above the inferior race or much below the superior race ? Darwin notes in some half-breeds a return towards the habits of savage life ; but this, as it seems to us, may be only a mere phe- nomena of atavism. ' Travellers speak of the degraded state and savage disposition of crossed races of man. That many excellent and kind-hearted mulattoes have existed no one will dispute; and a more mild and gentle set of men could hardly be found than the inhabitants of the island of Chiloe, who consist qf Indians com- mingled with the Spaniards in various proportions. On the other hand, many years ago, long before I had thought of the present subject, I was struck with the fact that in South America men of complicated descent between Negroes, Indians, and Spaniards, seldom had, whatever the cause might be, a good expression. Livingstone, after speaking of a half-caste man, on the Zambesi, described by the Portuguese as a rare monster of inhumanity, remarks, "It is unaccountable why half-castes, such as he, are so much more cruel than the Portuguese ; but such is undoubtedly the case." An inhabitant remarked to Livingstone, " God made white men, and God made black men, but the devil made the half-castes." When two races, both low in the scale, are crossed, the progeny seems to be eminently bad. Thus the noble- hearted Humboldt, who felt none of that prejudice against the inferior races now so current in England, speaks in strong terms of the Zambos, or half-castes between Indians and Negroes ; and this conclusion has been arrived at by various observers. From these facts we may perhaps infer that the degraded state of so many half-castes is in part due to reversion to a primitive and savage condition, induced by the act of crossing, as well as to the unfavourable moral conditions under which they generally exist* 1 Variation, etc., ii. p. 46. Heredity and the Law of Evolution. 299 There are other half-breeds, however, who are at least equal in point of intellect to their parents of the superior race. In 1789, nine English sailors mutinied, deserted their captain, and settled on Pitcairn Island with six Tahitans and fifteen Polynesian women. A quarrel soon arose among them. Five of the white men were killed, and the women murdered the Tahitans. The four white men and the ten surviving women lived in a complete state of polygamy. Strife broke out afresh . between the four Europeans. Two were killed, and the remaining two resolved to live in peace, and to regenerate this little community, born amid an outburst of every wild passion. Captain Beechy visited the island in 1825; he found there a population of sixty-six individuals, remarkable for their fine proportions, their strength, their agility, their quick and ready in- telligence, their great desire for instruction and for moral qualities, of which he gives a touching example. This community, con- sisting entirely of half-breeds, was superior at least to the vast majority of the elements which had given birth to it In Brazil, where, as the prejudices of colour are less strong than elsewhere, half-breeds may aspire to position in society, they have shown a decided artistic superiority over the two original races. ' Nearly every painter and musician in Brazil is a half-breed. They possess, also, a turn for science, and many of them have become medical practitioners of high distinction.' In Venezuela, says M. de Quatrefages, mulattoes have been dis- tinguished as orators, publicists, and poets. One of them, formerly Vice-President of New Grenada, was a prominent writer and a good administrative officer. Authors who are by no means favourable to half-breeds admit that, particularly in America, they possess considerable intelligence, wit, and imagination. We can draw no decisive conclusion from these facts, to which we might easily add many others ; not so much because the opinions are mutually contradictory, as because they are vague. Anthropologists, who usually are so minute and exact in their physiological distinctions, so soon as they come to consider mental characters, the complexity of which is so great, confine themselves to general phrases, which are almost always the same. Some naturalists, however, have supposed that from all these facts of 3oo Heredity. cross-breeding we might deduce a law which would give the answer to the question proposed in the present chapter. It may be thus stated : — The mixture of two unequal races tends to efface the less per- fect of the two. When a white man marries a negress, their child is a mulatto. When two mulattoes of equal blood intermarry, their child is whiter than themselves. This fact is an application of a general law of nature, in accordance with which mixed forms have a tendency to return to the types from which they are sprung, and in the struggle for life the more perfect type prevails.1 Cases of unilateral crossing give some curious results. When the white is united to the black, and then with the half-bred progeny, the white type is seen to predominate more and more in every generation. The pure type reappears in the fifth generation. When this unilateral crossing takes place with the pure negro on the one side, and successive generations of mulattoes on the other, less time is required to bring back the perfect negro type. It reappears in the third generation. In a large part of South America (Brazil, the Argentine Repub- lic, Paraguay, etc.) a fact of great importance is found occurring with considerable uniformity. From numerous and trustworthy testimonies it appears that ' in that vast region, where these two races are crossed in so large a scale, the European type always prevails in the long run. In Brazil, men of " mixed blood," of all degrees of hybridization, are numerous, forming a new population, which is ever growing more indigenous and coming nearer to the white type, and, judging from what is taking place all over South America, they will finally absorb all the other elements of the population.' M. de Quatrefages is not clear whether this fact is to be taken as a proof of the ascendancy of race. He is rather inclined to suppose that it is due to conscious selection in cross- breeding, the process being as a general rule unilateral, and in favour of the white race. However this may be, 'it is a result of great importance, for in this struggle between races, the victory 1 Except where it is impeded by the action of its surroundings, as appears to be the case in Peru, where the half-breed population has a strong tendency to return to the indigenous type. Heredity and the Law of Evolution. 301 will at last be with that race which possesses the superior elements.' Should the future verify these prognostics, should the white race, after eliminating the two others, restore the cross races to its own type, it will have performed, in its own way, a work of regeneration; then the question with which we began will be definitely settled, and the mean level of humanity will have been greatly raised, still more perhaps by hereditary transmission than by the external action of education and custom. in. As we have seen, evolution in living beings, though it generally implies amelioration, progress, transition from worse to better, still, in its scientific sense, implies only the transition from simple to complex, from homogeneous to heterogeneous ; and hence, instead of progress, it sometimes leads only to diminution of force and to decay. We have now to consider heredity under this latter aspect, as related to the law of evolution. Everything that has life also declines and becomes extinct It it doubtless because of this too evident truth that the belief in the law of progress appeared so late in man's history. First the indi- vidual disappears, then the family, then the nation ; and just as the individual makes use of many bodies before he finally becomes extinct, so, too, the family makes use of many individuals, the nation many families, the human race many nations. Perhaps humanity itself must disappear at last, made use of by some mightier force. It may be that in the evolution of the universe humanity is but one term in an endless series, one link in an endless chain. If we glance at any family that has acted a part in history, we see the following facts. Its origin is so obscure that usually we have to imagine or invent it ; it comes into prominence, grows, and attains its climax in one, two, or three generations at most ; it then declines and becomes extinct Take the second race of Frank kings. It starts with Saint Arnoul, Bishop of Metz, follows an ascending series, Pepin d'Heristal, Charles Martel, Pepin the 1 Quatrefages, loc. cit. p. 457. 3O2 Heredity. Short, Charlemagne ; in the latter it attains its most perfect develop- ment, and then it declines. The third race starts with Robert the Strong, Count of France, reaches its climax in Philip Augustus, St Louis, and Philip the Fair, and then it becomes extinct in three obscure kings. It is much the same with the Valois branch, sprung from Charles de Valois, son of Philippe le Hardi, and with the Angouleme branch, sprang from Louis d'Orle'ans, son of Charles V., which ended with the feeble sons of Catherine de Medicis. Then come the Bourbons, whose climax is indicated by Henri IV. and Louis XIV., and who ever since have been on the decline. So, too, with the Guises, Conde's, etc. Nor are those families exempt from this law who have acted a great part, only on a small stage, in their own province or their own city. Indeed, it would not perhaps be inexact to say, with Dr. Lucas, that ' the ascending movement of the exalted faculties of most founders of families is nearly always arrested at the third generation, seldom goes on to the fourth, and hardly ever transcends the fifth.' So it is, too, with nations. Their origin is obscure , they grow, attain the full measure of their power, and then their fate brings them to that period where they belong only to history ; and their decadence is due, not so much to those vague causes to which it is commonly attributed by historians, as to a definite cause : the decay of the faculties, physical, intellectual, and moral (and of the organic functions which are their condition), if not in all the citizens, at least in the majority of them. Heredity plays its part in this decline. Though by itself, as we have seen, it can do nothing, being merely a conservative tendency, still it is heredity alone that makes progress possible during the ascendant epoch of evolution. But then, on the other hand, after evolution has entered on its downward period, heredity confirms and regulates the decline. One by one it laid — fatefully, blindly — the courses of the edifice, and one after another it removes them with the same blind fatality. The influence of heredity is either direct or indirect Its direct influence is exerted through the state of marriage. It is not a rare occurrence for a man of note to marry a woman of indifferent capacity, out of family or social considerations, or from chance or caprice. It has been observed that great men often Heredity and the Law of Evolution. 303 leave descendants unworthy of them ; in fact, advantage has been taken of this fact in order to call in question hereditary transmis- sion, whereas we should rather perhaps find in it a striking con- firmation of the law. Galton, in his work on English judges,1 observes that of thirty-one judges raised to the peerage previous to the close of the reign of George IV., nineteen are still represented in the peerage by their descendants, and twelve peerages are extinct. Having minutely investigated the cause of this extinction, he discovered them in social reasons, in motives of convenience which led to ill-assorted unions : those peers whose families soon disappeared ' married heiresses.' Even when unequal matches do not produce such grave results as these, it is not to be doubted that, in virtue of the laws of heredity, they must cause a degenera- tion, which, being again and again repeated, must of necessity bring about the extinction of a gifted family, or, what is worse, its mediocrity. It is evident that a son may take after his indifferently gifted mother as readily as after his illustrious father, and that, as in any case he must be the resultant of the two, the chance of his being inferior to his father is as two to one. Considered as an indirect cause of decline, heredity acts by way of accumulation. Every family, every people, every race brings into the world at their birth a certain amount of vitality, and of physical and moral aptitudes, which in course of time will become manifest. This evolution has for its causes the continual action and reaction between the being and its surroundings. It goes on until the family, people, or race has fulfilled its destiny, brilliant for some, distinguished for others, obscure for the majority. When this sum of vitality and of aptitudes begins to fail, decay commences. This process of decay may at first be of no moment, but heredity transmits it to the next generation, from that to the following one, and so on till the period of utter extinction, if no external cause interferes to stay ihe decay. Here, then, heredity is only an indirect cause of degeneration, the direct cause being the action of the environment, by which term we understand all action from without — not only climate and mode of life, but also manners, 1 Pages 130-132. See the concluding chapter of the work, with regard to the question whether great men leave no posterity. It 304 Heredity. customs, religious ideas, institutions, and laws, which often are very influential in determining the degeneration of a race. In the east, the harem, with its life of absolute ignorance and complete indolence, has, through physical and moral heredity, led to the rapid decay of various nations. * We have no harem in France,' says a naturalist, ' but there are other causes, quite different in their origin, which tend ultimately to lower the race. In our day, paternal affection, with the assistance of medical science, more certain, and possessed of more resources, makes more and more certain the future of children, by saving the lives of countless weak, deformed, or otherwise ill-constituted creatures that would surely have died in a savage race, or in our own a century or two ago. These children become men, they marry, and by heredity transmit to their descendants at least a predisposition to imperfections like their own. Sometimes both husband and wife bring each a share to this heritage. The descendants go on degenerating, and the result for the community is debasement, and, finally, the disap- pearance of certain groups.' l The only way of getting a clear idea of a case of psychological and moral decay, hereditarily transmitted, is by finding for it some organic cause. The physiology and anatomy of the brain are not yet sufficiently advanced to explain it ; we cannot say to what change in the brain such and such a decay of intellect, or such and such a perversion of the will, is to be attributed. But cerebral phenomena and psychical phenomena are so closely connected that a variation of the one implies a variation of the other. This being assumed, let us take a man of average organization, physically and morally. Let us suppose that, in consequence of disease, outward circumstances, influences coming from his sur- roundings or from his own will, his mind is impaired, to only a trifling extent it may be, but yet permanently. Clearly heredity has nothing to do with this decay ; but then, if it is transmitted to the next generation, and if, further, the same causes go on acting in the same direction, it is equally clear that heredity in turn becomes a cause of decay. And if this slow action goes on with each new generation it may end in total extinction of intellect * JRevtu da Cours Sdentifiques, vol. vL p. 690. Heredity and the Law of Evolution. 305 These remarks also apply in every respect to nations and races : all that is required is that the destructive influences should bear, not on an isolated individual, but upon a mass of individuals. The mechanism of decay is identical in the two cases ; and we are justified in the conclusion that the causes which, in the narrow world of the individual and the family, produce a considerable diminution of the intellectual forces, must produce the like effect in that agglomeration of individuals which constitutes a society. Historians usually explain the decline of nations by their manners, institutions, and character, and in a certain sense the explanation is correct. These reasons, however, are rather vague, and, as we see, there exists a more profound, an ultimate cause — an organic cause, which can act only through heredity, but which is altogether over- looked. These organic causes will probably be ignored for some time to come, but our ignoring them will not do away with them. As for ourselves, who have, for purposes of our own, attempted to study the decay of the Lower Empire — the most amazing instance of decay presented by history — tracing step by step this degeneration through a thousand years : seeing, in their works of art, the plastic talent of the Greeks fade away by degrees, and result in the stiff drawing, and in the feeble, motionless figures of the Paleologi ; seeing the imagination of the Greeks wither up and become reduced to a few platitudes of description ; seeing their lively wit change to empty babbling and senile dotage ; seeing all the characters of mind so disappear that the great men of their latter period would elsewhere pass only for mediocrities — it appears to us that beneath these visible, palpable facts — the only facts on which historians dwell — we discern the slow, blind, unconscious working of nature in the millions of human beings who were decayed, though they knew it not, and who transmitted to their descendants a genii of death, each generation adding to it somewhat of its own. Thus, in every people, whether it be rising or falling, there exists always, as the groundwork of every change, a secret working of the mind, and consequently of a part of the organism, and this of necessity comes under the law of heredity. Here we bring to a close our general study on the consequences of heredity. We must next look at the details. In order to pro- ceed with the inquiry methodically, we will proceed rVom causes 306 Heredity. to effects, that is to say, from sentiments and ideas to acts, and from acts to social institutions. We will therefore study the influ- ence of heredity, first on the constitution of the human soul, on its intellectual states, its sentiments and passions, then on the acts which give outward expression to these inner states ; lastly, on the institutions which result from these acts, and which not only regulate, but also consolidate them. Thus we shall have to con- sider, successively, the psychological, the moral, and the social consequences of heredity. CHAPTER II. THE PSYCHOLOGICAL CONSEQUENCES OF HEREDITY. THE study of the psychological consequences of heredity must begin with the instincts. We will not here discuss a question already treated,1 since it will be enough to state briefly the certain or probable results already obtained. If heredity acted merely the part of a conservator, its conse- quences, psychological or otherwise, would present no difficulty whatever. On the hypothesis of individual types created once for all with their physical and moral attributes, the only consequence of heredity would be the indefinite repetition of these types, with some accidental deviations — unimportant facts of spontaneity. But the case is very different Notwithstanding the character of immutability usually assigned to instincts, they may vary as we have seen, and their variations are transmissible. Hence the first consequence of heredity, that it renders possible the acquisition of new instincts. This consequence rests on facts, and is certain and indisputable. Another consequence, one that is merely possible, and which we have stated only as an hypothesis, is the genesis of all instinct whatever by way of heredity. Instincts, regarded as hereditary 1 See Part I. ch. i. The Psychological Consequences of Heredity. 307 habits, would be the result of the accumulation of psychical acts which, originally very simple, have, in virtue of the law of evo- lution, passed from the simple to the complex, from the homo- geneous to the heterogeneous, thus giving rise to those highly complex acts which seem to us so wonderful. Hitherto we have restricted ourselves to looking simply at the bearings of this doctrine ; we are now to meet with it under another form, and we shall study its bearings here also. n. The same question, in fact, arises with regard to the intellect. Here some assign to heredity only a secondary influence, asserting that it allows the transmission and accumulation of certain charac- ters, and makes the development of the intellect possible, in the individual and in the species. Others go much farther, and attribute to heredity an actual creative power. According to them, the genesis of the constituent forms of intellect and of the laws and conditions of thought is the work of heredity. We will first examine this latter doctrine, the most radical, the most recent, the least known out of England. There it has been held by a few contemporary philosophers, and has given an entirely new shape to the famous problem of the origin of ideas. If this doctrine be true, it gives so important a part to heredity that we must here discuss it fully. It is one of the great merits of the school of sensationalists that it early perceived the importance of questions of genesis. Through all its researches into the origin of our cognitions it was really concerned with the embryology of mind. It does not, however, appear to have been at first clearly conscious of this, or it would be impossible to explain the conception of a statue by Condillac and Bonnet — an actual adult individual, whose genesis could not but be illusory and artificial. This is as though the physio- logist were to take man at his birth, without concerning himself about the embryonic period which preceded it It is singular to see how superficial, external, and imperfect are the processes of Condillac, and with what simplicity he thinks the most in- volved and complex phenomena may be explained and produced. 308 Heredity. Condillac's system, however, has been excellently criticized already, and that by his own school.1 But whatever its defects, we have reason to be thankful that it took the wrong course, as it led to finding the correct one, by suggesting the necessity of an em- bryology of mind. In Condillac's day, the various hypotheses of naturalists with regard to the fact of generation might be reduced to two chief hypotheses, one holding the pre-existence of germs, and the other epigenesis. The doctrine of the pre-existence of germs was the older, and, in some sense, the orthodox hypothesis. Vallisnieri, Bonnet, and Spallanzani maintained it in the seventeenth century; Haller also held it It asserted that the ovum contains the animal or the man already formed, though of infinite minuteness, that all beings, each with its proper structure, have been contained in ova from mother to mother ever since the moment of creation ; that the act of generation merely gives them life and makes them capable ot growth and development. 'They are,' says Maupertuis, in his Venus Physique, ' only little statues, enclosed one within another, like those works of the lathe in which the carver shows his skill with the chisel by making a hundred boxes shut up one within another.' The doctrine of epigenesis, on the other hand, then represented by Buffon and Wolff, held that the being is formed in all its parts in the act of generation. The embryologists of the nineteenth century have shown that originally the germs of all organisms are 1 Cabanis, p. 521, Peisse's Edition. It is interesting to compare Condillac's rude embryology with that of the great psychologists of the present time. It Is given in its completest form by Mr. Herbert Spencer in his Principles of Psychology. The analysis begins with the most complex cognitions, and by successive decompositions arrives at the simplest act of thinking — viz. the per- ception of a difference. The synthesis, a very different affair from Condillac's artificial process, starts from reflex action, passing through instinct and memory, and arrives at the operations of reason, sentiment, and will The author thus ascends from the conditions of a psychic state to the state itself, from the lower to the higher, from vague and general modes of mental activity to those that are precise and more and more determinate, from the simple to the complex. The comparison between the two methods is instructive ; it just marks the difference between a truly scientific method and a purely verbal process. Tfie Psychological Consequences of Heredity. 309 structureless and alike, and that the development of each germ consists in acquiring the structure peculiar to its species. Some of them, even, such as Menckel and Serres, discovered in the temporary and transient forms of the embryogeny of man and the other vertebrates the arrested and permanent forms of invertebrate organisms. At least this much is certain, that at a certain point of their development the embryos of all vertebrates, whether birds or fishes, reptile or man, present only the most general and the simplest features of the vertebrate type. Nothing could differ more widely than this from the hypothesis of ' little statues ' fully formed. In our opinion, if we look at the theories on the origin of our cognitions, that is, the embryogeny of mind, in the light of these two hypotheses as to the embryogeny of the body, the philosophic question assumes a new aspect The spiritualistic or rationalistic school holds, after its own fashion, the pre-existence of germs. Whether, with Descartes, we accept innate ideas, or, with Leibnitz, hold that arithmetic and geometry exist in us virtually, and that there are graven on the soul truths which it has never known, is to hold that the soul, so long as it has existed, has possessed all its constituent elements. Experience perfects and completes it, but gives to it very little indeed, compared with what it receives. Just as, in the hypothesis of the pre-existence of germs, the minute being is developed, but does not undergo any change in its essential parts, or in the rela- tions between them, merely attaining greater size, filling up gaps and acquiring a few accessory organs ; so in the spiritualistic hypothesis, experience merely causes us to adapt ourselves to the fundamental forms and laws of the human soul, to those ideas and judgments which constitute it, so to speak, and which are to the mind what the cerebro-spinal axis is to the body. This analogy will appear still more evident when we remember that Leibnitz compares the human soul, previous to experience, to a statue out- lined by the veinings in a rough block of marble. As for epigenesis, its counterpart in philosophy is not, we take it, ordinary sensationalism, but a new system which we are about to describe in the words of Spencer, Lewes, and Murphy, and which lays much stress on heredity. 3 1 o Heredity. These philosophers have, in the first place, made an excellent, radical, and decisive criticism of the old empiricism. ' To accept,' says Spencer, ' the untenable assertion that prior to experience the mind is a blank is to overlook the very root of the question, viz. Whence comes the faculty of organizing sensations ? ... If at birth there exists nothing but a purely passive receptivity of im- pressions, why could not a horse receive the same education as a man ? . . . Why should not the cat and the dog, subjected as they are to the same experiences obtained in domestic life, attain to the same degree and the same kind of intelligence ? Under its current form, the experience hypothesis implies that the presence of a nervous system organized in a certain way is an unimportant cir- cumstance, a fact that need not be taken into account, yet it is the most important fact of all.'1 Cognition is necessarily the product of two factors : first, we have what is presented to the mind, the internal or external phe- nomena, form, colour, agreeable or disagreeable sensations, etc. ; and then we have what the mind itself offers — the laws of thought, which connect the phenomena, and reduce to order this indis- ciplined and confused mass. This was clearly seen and well shown by Kant But the philosophers of whom we speak, while they admire him, reproach him with having regarded the laws of thought as ultimate, irreducible, and inexplicable facts, instead of investi- gating their genesis. ' Kant and his disciples,' says Mr. Lewes, ' taking up the adult human mind, considered its constituent forms as initial conditions} ' These forms,' say they, ' are implied in each individual experience.' Certainly, for if they were not so implied they never could be got out of them. This explanation is logically perfect, but it is of no service for psychology, which has to resolve a question of origin. Reasoning d priori, we might say that the vertebrate type is the necessary form which makes the vertebrate possible. This will do in anatomy, but it is false in morphology, which shows that the typical form results from the successive phases of the animal's development. Kant anatomized cognition well enough, but he disregarded its morphology. What, then, are these mysterious forms of thought ? Like the 1 Psychology, 2nd ed., § 208. The Psychological Consequences of Heredity. 311 forms of life, they are evolutions, not preformations. While they are the laws of experience, they are at the same time its results — results of the experience of the race, and not of the individual ; they are the product of heredity. Let us get a clear idea of this doctrine. I hear a bell ring. This fact, apparently so simple, is neverthe- less highly complex ; it consists of a group of sensations, induc- tions, and sense-images, each one of which is in itself a group. Not to speak of the primitive elements, which is not here neces- sary, and noting only the simple, rough, well-known facts, the sum of which makes up for us the phenomenon, we can tell the quality of the sound of a bell which is rung ; whether the bell is large, small, or medium sized ; whether it is near or distant, whether it is sounded by a hammer or by a clapper, whether it is in this church or in that, etc. ; finally, whether the sound continues for a long time or not. This last fact, the continuance of the sensation, I take to be one of the elements of the group, — in fact, an essential and funda- mental element, and, so to speak, the ground on which all the others are projected. Again, suppose I have a tooth drawn. This fact also consists of a group of sensations, sentiments, and ideas, far more complex than the preceding ; and here, too, we find that duration is an essential element Take any fact, any experience whatever, and you will always find groups of sensations, and among the elements of each group you will find duration, or time — that is to say, duration in its abstract and universal form, con- sidered objectively. I open my eyes, and see before me a fresh sown field. This fact, too, is a group of sensations and ideas (colour, form, distance, etc.), and in this group there is one attribute which, in like manner, is regarded as essential — viz. that continuity which, uniting together all the countless points of the field, makes of them one extended whole. This quality of extension I find coupled with other variable qualities, in an immense number of objects which I call material. Hence I regard extension or space, i.e. abstract, simple, possible extension, as a permanent attribute of all bodies. I approach the fire, and it warms me ; I smell an alkali, and it catches my breath; I see a cannon ball fired, and it knocks down the wall it strikes. In these, and countless other cases like 3 1 2 Heredity. the first fact is always followed by the second. The phenomenon, taken in its totality, is presented to us as something made up of two groups, so arranged that the first always necessitates the second; in other words, in the sum of qualities and relations which make up this inseparable pair we find, as an essential element, the relation of constant succession between the first and the second — the property that the first is always followed by the second. This fundamental property, which is also found in many other pairs, is denominated causality. The foregoing analyses are not borrowed from the English philosophers, but we think they exactly represent their views. Now, if with them we hold that the mind is formed as well by the action of external objects upon it as by its reaction on external objects ; if we hold that accidental, variable, changeable attributes must produce in the organism, and hence on the mind, accidental, variable, changeable modifications, but that fixed and essential attributes must have permanent modifications answering to them ; if we observe that the attribute of duration being found in all the groups, that of extension in nearly all, and the relation of causality in a very large number of couples, they must recur millions of times during the life of each, and so, by repetition, tend to become organic ; if, finally, we observe that these modifications are here- ditarily transmitted to a new individual, who in turn experiences the same fixed and permanent impressions, and by him to another and another without limit, we shall then be able to understand the part played by heredity in the genesis of the forms of thought, and to see how heredity may produce, in the second or third generation, a mental habitude so deeply rooted as to be rightly called innate, provided it be borne in mind how it has come to be so. ' We have seen,' says Herbert Spencer,1 ' that the establishment of those compound relief actions, called instincts, is compre- hensible on the principle that inner relations are, by perpetual repetition, organized into correspondence with outer relations. We have now to observe that the establishment of those consolidated, those indissoluble, those instinctive mental relations constituting our ideas of space and time, is comprehensible on the same 1 Psychology, 2nd ed., § 208. The Psychological Consequences of Heredity. 313 principle. For if even to external relations that are often ex- perienced during the life of a single organism, answering internal relations are established that become next to automatic — if such , a combination of psychical changes as that which guides a savage in hitting a bird with an arrow becomes, by constant repetition, so organized as to be performed almost without thought of the pro- cess of adjustment gone through ; and if skill of this kind is so far transmissible that particular races of men become characterized by particular aptitudes, which are nothing else than partially or- ganized psychical connections — then, if there exist certain external relations which are experienced by all organisms, at all instants of their waking lives — relations which are absolutely constant — there will be established answering internal relations that are absolutely constant, absolutely universal. Such relations we have in those of space and time. ... As the substrata of all other relations in the non-Ego, they must be responded to by conceptions that are the substrata of all other relations in the Ego. Being the constant and infinitely repeated elements of thought, they must become the automatic elements of thought — the elements of thought which it is impossible to get rid of — the ' forms of intuition.' From this brief statement of the question it is easy to see that it is one of the highest in all philosophy, as being concerned with the genesis of thought itself. Here we arrive at a first cause : we leave facts and enter on metaphysics. Thought is, in fact, one of the forms of the unknowable — indeed, the most mysterious of them all. A little reflection suffices to show this. It is certain that the exterior world, the object, is knowable only in so far as it is reducible to thought; that it has no existence for us, save on that same condition ; that in it we see only a sum of phenomena governed by laws ; and as the phenomena are resolved into perceptions, and the laws into ratio- cinations, therefore the whole universe may be resolved into psychological states. To say, with the idealists, that thought is the measure of all things, so that the limits of our thought are also the limits of reality, is certainly a gratuitous hypothesis ; for we cannot be certain that beyond all actual or possible cognition of ours there are not actual existences for ever unknowable, and we have no warrant for making human thought the absolute 314 Heredity. thought Cut when we say, in a purely relative sense, that our thought is for us the measure of being, we enunciate an un- questionable truth, almost a truism ; and from this purely human point of view we may affirm that the world has no existence for us, except in so far as it is thinkable. The world is a system of unknown qualities which we explain with the assistance of another unknown quality, thought ; the latter, however, still remains the x of an unsolvable equation. If, then, we see that thought is both an ultimate cause in meta- physics and an ultimate principle in logic, we must not be surprised at finding it impossible to answer that apparently simple question, What is thought ? We are utterly unable to go beyond external and superficial explanations, and to get at the essence of thought Under its phenomenal form, thought is a simplification. To think is to simplify, to reduce plurality to unity. All the objects of our states of consciousness must be either concrete or abstract, and we cannot get at either of these but by a process of simpli- fication. In the first place, those objects which we call concrete — a house, a man, a star — are extended, and yet can enter into our thought only under the form of a simple series, only under the condition of time. We know not how an act which has no ex- tension can represent an extended object — how time can for us take the place of space. But it is certain that concrete objects are knowable for us only on this condition, and that to refer space to time is to refer the complex to the simple — to simplify. To obtain our abstract cognitions we must abstract, generalize, induce and deduce, and all these operations in the last analysis amount to classification according to resemblances and differences, or to simplification. Thought, therefore, is the unifying principle which reduces to order the chaos of the universe. To think is to unify. But this unification is but the process, the mechanism of thought When we speak of our cognition of thought, we mean only the forms of thought We cannot go beyond this, nor can we know how, by means of our consciousness, there is formed in our minds a world answering to, though not resembling, all that is without us. All discussion, therefore, with regard to the nature of thought, is concerned only with its forms; and when we assert The Psychological Consequences of Heredity. 3 1 5 that these forms are the result of heredity, we assert that thought itself, as a phenomenon, is a result of heredity. As we have seen, the associationist school, while agreeing with Kant as to the necessity of certain forms (time, space, causality) in order to connect experience and to constitute thought, differs from that philosopher by holding these forms to be the result of an evolution. The difference is more radical than would at first sight appear, for in Kant's hypothesis it is the forms of the subject that give shape to the object, while in the other hypothesis the object gives shape to the subject : in the view of the one the universe is dependent on thought, in that of the other thought is dependent on the universe. We would observe, by the way, that the criticism made in France on the association psychology is not well founded. The law of the association of ideas, it is said, having been discovered first, the only originality of this system of psychology is that it has generalized that law, and endeavoured to bring under it all the operations of thought. But this is a mis- conception in regard to the true originality of this school, which is very different To assert, as this school does, that the cause of our internal nexus exists in nextts which is external ; that when two phenomena are rarely associated in the object they are also rarely associated in the subject, and that when they are always associated in the object they are always associated in the subject, is to assert, in opposition to Kant, that the laws of cognition depend abso- lutely on the laws of nature, to import mechanism into the intel- lect, and to subject the intellect itself to mechanism as the ultimate law governing its phenomenal development Moreover, the hypothesis of a genesis of the ' forms of thought ' by continuous evolution is not characteristic of the whole asso- ciationist school, but only of those adherents of it who accept universal evolution. We regard it as a simple hypothesis, and only desire to show that it is not so inadmissible as it may at first appear. Starting from the hypothesis of a primordial nebula, we see that the universe must have endured thousands and thousands of years, during which nothing existed but physical and chemical pheno- mena. We cannot tell when or how, or by what series of blind attempts and essays life could be produced. Neither do we know 3 1 6 Heredity. how the transition was brought about from the physiological to the psychological epoch — from the period of no thought to the period of thought. The development school, however, is bound to maintain this ascending evolution. This was perceived even by Lamarck, and he boldly supposes the existence of a primitive race of non-sentient animals. ' In producing life,' says he, ' nature did not abruptly set up so high a faculty as that of sense. Nature did not possess the means of creating this faculty in the imperfect animals belonging to the earliest classes of the animal kingdom.' x When we consider from the biological point of view the pheno- mena of mental activity, and compare them with purely vital facts, we find that both possess in common this essential point, that they are a correspondence. Herbert Spencer has shown how physiological life consists of a correspondence between a being and its environment,2 and how in the sum of actions and reactions which constitute life there is a continual adjustment of internal to external relations, so that the degree of life varies as the degree of correspondence, perfect life being perfect correspondence. But mental life is, like bodily life, a correspondence. To think, or to have a cognition, is to have in our mind a certain state corres- ponding to a certain state without ; and this correspondence also is found in all possible degrees, from the zoophyte to man, so that the degree of cognition is measured by the degree of correspond- ence. Between life and thought, therefore, there are other differences than that between a partial and a total correspondence, between a correspondence imperfectly unified (life) and a corres- pondence perfectly unified (consciousness) ; finally, and here is the mystery, between an unconscious and a conscious correspondence. If we could know how the simultaneous becomes successive, and how plurality becomes unity, then we could tell how thought results from life.3 They suppose that they have explained this 1 Philosophic Zoohgique, Discours Preliminaire, 7. * Principles of Biology. For instance, there must be in a plant certain changes answering to the changes of its environment (humidity, dryness, etc. ). * An author who holds the genesis of the forms of thought through evolution iias developed the singular hypothesis that it is possible to 'think in space.' (Murphy, Ifabit and Intelligence, ch. xxxvii.) For this, says he, it would suffice that a mind, in place of thinking as our mind docs, with words succeeding one Tke Psychological Consequences of Heredity. 317 metamorphosis by heredity. Though we do not mean to give any advantage to this theory, still we must observe that thought is impossible except with the aid of certain forms to serve as schemata ; that if these forms are annexed to a certain state of the brain, as is probably the case, and if this state of the brain is itself the result of a gradual evolution, then the conclusion is all but inevitable that the forms of thought are the result of an evolution in the species. Gratiolet, whose immaterialism (spiritnalisme) has never been called in question, used to say that to him ' it was evident that the ontological analysis of philosophers, and especially that prime distinction between the ideas of time and space, were inscribed in advance among the preordinations of the animal organism.' Admit evolution also, and development has nearly gained its cause. On this hypothesis, thousands and thousands of years rolled away before thought could appear on earth. Neither animals un- provided with a nervous system (bryozoa), nor those whose ganglia are nearly independent of one another (asterias), nor those in which there is just a beginning of unity, could have arrived at conscious ness : their physical life must be a confused state in which the subject is not distinguished from its object. It is only in the higher animals, and perhaps in man alone, that the brain, resulting from a gradual evolution, and shaped by countless actions and reactions which have been preserved and transmitted by heredity, could become the instrument of thought. Thus the doctrine of development rigorously applies to the world of thought the same hypothesis as to the world of life. On the one hand, it deduces all species from three or four primitive types, or it may be from only one. On the other hand, from a few very simple psychical acts, it may be from only one, it deduces the endless variety of instincts and intelligences of sentiments and passions. We have endeavoured to show how this hypothesis another in time, should think by means of figures traced in space. But even in that case we should have thinking in both time and space, and not in space alone. It is useless to dwell upon an hypothesis of which the verification is impossible, and which, farther, is in contradiction with the essential condition of thought, viz. unity. 3 1 8 Heredity. is to be understood, and on what grounds it rests ; for our own part, we neither accept nor reject it If we are to accept it, it must be verifiable by experience, or demonstrable by logic. Experimental verification would consist in showing that it agrees with all the facts, and that it can be brought entirely under their control ; but it is impossible to show any such thing. Logical demonstration would consist in showing that this one hypothesis, exclusive of all others, explains the facts ; but this demonstration per absurdum is im- possible. If we are to reject it, the hypothesis must involve some logical contradiction ; but this is not the case. It is true that it is difficult to understand how no-thought can become thought, but without attempting to explain this, we may bear in mind that this transition is progressive, and that life and thought share in common this essential character, that they are a correspondence produced by a series of actions and reactions. Moreover, this evolutional genesis of the forms of thought, which the doctrine of development applies to the species, is admitted by all as applying to the individual. The individual cannot think (in the proper sense of the word) until his brain is developed ; and if thought, in its true sense, possessed of all its constituent forms, comes into being in an instant — which is doubtful — we do not see why this bright flash in the night of the unconscious should not have lighted up the species also, at some definite instant To say that the objects of the con- stituent forms of thought — space, time, causality — could not have modified the brain, because they have no concrete existence in nature, as have a stone or a dog, is not to present a difficulty ; for if, with Leibnitz, we regard them as relations it is quite natural that the brain should be modified, not only by things, but by the rela- tions between things. These two opposite theories — the one regarding thought as the essential causality to which nature is a secondary causality, and the other regarding nature as the essential causality and thought as secondary — might perhaps be reconciled by admitting the identity of mechanism and logic, of intelligence in nature and intelligence in thought We have already alluded to this doctrine but this is not the place to set it forth. The Psychological Consequences of Heredity. 319 in. We have now seen how, on certain hypotheses, heredity con- tributes towards the creation of intelligence. We now propose to turn aside from this radical solution, and to inquire how it contri- butes towards its development. We here use the word intelligence in a sense at once common and philosophic, as that faculty of judgment, ratiocination, and abstraction which in conduct is denominated prudence, good sense, tact, dexterity, penetration; in art, inventiveness, taste ; in science, the faculty for discovery, for generalization, and for detecting relations. Having already proved by sundry facts from normal and morbid psychology and from history the existence of intellectual heredity, we will take it for granted here as an empiric law, and we will investigate its consequences. If we consider heredity under purely ideal conditions, nothing can be simpler than to determine its consequences : it fixes and preserves the modes of intelligence as they appear. Thus some variety of the intelligence — humour, for instance — appears in an individual either by spontaneous variation, or by that chance concurrence of causes which has been called spontaneity : now if heredity alone were at work it would transmit this mental modification uninterruptedly to all the succeeding generations. But, as we have seen, it meets with hindrances of every descrip- tion, which tend to weaken or even to destroy it Yet if, in- stead of considering isolated cases where heredity appears to be at fault, we consider a large number of cases ; if we invoke what has been called the law of numbers, the exception disappears, the accidental vanishes, and the law, or, in other words, the essential character, takes the chief place. Thus it is that heredity con- tributes to the formation of national character. _ A certain turn of mmd may easily fail to be perpetuated in a family; but if it is common to a tribe, a people, a race, it is safe to say that it must be perpetuated. We have seen how closely at bottom the French mind resembles the Gallic mind, as described by Strabo, Diodorus Siculus, and other ancient historians. Thus, in the formation and conservation of the special character of a family or of a nation, heredity is a very important factor. But not to dwell here on this 320 Heredity. point, which is not so much a consequence of heredity as the law itself, under its most perfect form, we pass on to the consideration of another still more curious point, not so well known, and more difficult to prove, but which, from its bearing on intelligence, con- stitutes an important consequence of heredity. It may thus be stated under an ideal form, that is, without taking into account the exceptions : heredity, acting by way of accumulation, augments intelligence in successive generations, and thus makes it capable of fresh developments. This we will now endeavour to prove. We will first point out the physiological grounds of the fact under consideration. It is well known that every organ is developed by exercise : in the blacksmith the muscles of the arms ; in the pedestrian, those of the legs. The organ produces the function, but the function in turn reacts on the organ and develops it We can scarcely doubt that this holds good with regard to the brain, that it grows by exercise, and that this aug- mentation is transmissible by heredity. Dr. Brocas, on the strength of various researches, says that the capacity of the skull, and consequently the volume of the brain, corresponds with the degree of intelligence of the different races : the largest are found in the white race, then in the Caucasian, next in the negroes of Africa — the Australian negro holds the last rank. Albert, of Bonn, says that having dissected the brains of several persons who had for years been accustomed to mental work, he found in all the cerebral substance very firm, and the grey matter and the convolutions highly developed. * The augmentation of the mass of the brain,' he says, ' is proved partly by the difference existing between cultured and uncultured people, and partly by the in- creased volume of brain which results from the progress of civilization in Europe ; an increase which accumulates, by reason of heredity, in a degree which admits of demonstration.' (Mit Hiilfe der Vcrcrbung sich so writ snmmiri, doss es constatirt werdcn kann.) In fact, we find that among the educated classes the size of the head is usually large, and that the contrary is the case among the uneducated. Finally, there is a fact which directly concerns the question in hand : excavations made in cemeteries show that the size of skulls has increased since the Middle Ages. The Psychological Consciences of Heredity. 321 Dr. Broca compared together one hundred and twenty-five skulls from the crypt of the old church of Saint-Barthe'lemi, in Paris (twelfth century), one hundred and twenty-five skulls from the Cimetiere des Innocents, used from the thirteenth to the eighteenth century, and one hundred and twenty-five skulls from the old Cimetiere de 1'Ouest, open from 1788 till 1824. Here are the results of this comparison, so far as regards the mean capacity of the crania. Mean Capacity. Skulls of the twelfth century 84777 cubic inches „ Cim. des Innocents 83*783 „ „ „ Nineteenth century 86*901 „ „ It will be seen that the mean capacity of the skulls belonging to the present century possesses a decided superiority. As regards the inferiority of the skulls from the Cimetiere des Innocents to those of the twelfth century, Dr. Broca explains it by observing that the crypts of the church of the 'Cite' were used by the upper classes ; while as for the crania from Les Innocents, it is beyond doubt that they belong to the lower classes, Philip Augustus having presented that plot of ground to the city of Paris as a burying place for the poor. Resting on these physiological data, Gall and his disciples, as also Auguste Comte, Pritchard, and others in more recent times, have held that the mental faculties are capable of augmentation, inasmuch as they are transmissible. The conclusion appears logical. Intelligence has for its condition, for its chief organ, the brain ; the brain grows by exercise, and this growth is transmissible by heredity. Hence it is perfectly fair to conclude that every modification, every improvement of an organ, imports a modifica- tion, an improvement in function, and that consequently the development of the brain implies development of the intelligence. But this important fact, that progress of the intelligence is possible, not only in the individual, but also in the race ; that heredity transmits and accumulates trifling modifications, we should wish to establish directly by psychological arguments, and not by resorting to physiology, as we have just done. It is a difficult task, and we can only attempt it We will first try to understand upon what condition the progress 322 Heredity. of intelligence takes place in the individual. It proceeds by a gradual evolution. The mind can at first grasp simple facts, then more complex ones, next simple relations, and then relations more and more complicated. Each stage of this progress has its con- dition in an anterior progress, which must have been realized previously, and which alone makes the following one possible. The intelligence may be compared to a building, in which each course of masonry must be laid securely in order to receive another. Or, if with certain contemporary philosophers we com- pare the act of cognition to a correspondence between the in- ternal states of the subject and the external states of the object, we may say that the mind must first correspond with very simple relations in order to rise to those which are highly complex. This difference, about which there is no question in theory, is forgotten in practice. Doubtless where there are problems strictly dependent on one another, as in mathematics, the mind cannot but follow the natural course ; but in the domain of the social and political sciences, nothing is more common than for people to begin at the end. Hence so many vain theories and erroneous doctrines, the mind being unable to understand what is complex, since it has not first grasped what is simple. For it is a mistake to suppose that it is sufficient- to bring a gifted, intelligent mind face to face with such and such facts, and that it will understand them at once. A thousand instances prove the contrary. Let a person, intelligent, but of imperfect culture, read Grecian or Roman history, and we are surprised, amazed, at the misinterpretations he will make of it. The Middle Ages abounded in blunders of this sort whenever an attempt was made to describe a world different from that which then existed. See how the Trojan war, Caesar and Alexander are travestied in the poems of chivalry, or in the quaint pictures of the fifteenth century. 1 This is shown still better by an example from savage life. A native of New Zealand, intelligent and curious, connected with the chief families of his country, accompanied an English traveller to London for educa- 1 For example, see at the Campana Museum the adventures of Theseus and Ariadne, with cavaliers, pages, churches, goiliic houses, narrow streets, battlements, etc. The Psychological Consequences of Heredity. 323 tion, but owing to the imperfect development of his mind he could understand nothing of our European civilization, and interpreted everything according to the notions of a savage. Thus, when a rich man passed, he would say, 'That man has a good deal to eat,' unable to understand wealth in any other way. The mind must certainly be first moulded by previous culture in order to enter on complex questions, and this is true of the species no less than of the individual. In the individual all progress of the intellect becomes, when fixed by memory, the basis and the condition of further progress ; in the species all progress of the intelligence becomes, when fixed by heredity, the basis and the condition of further progress. Heredity plays, in regard to the species, nearly the same part that memory plays in regard to the individual. If in our literary history we make some unexpected comparison — as, for example, between men of letters of the fifth century and those of the eighteenth ; between Gregory of Tours and Tredega- rius, etc., and Voltaire, Diderot and the whole Encyclopedistes ; or between the court of Charlemagne and our romantic movement of the nineteenth century — the discord is so complete, the contrast so great, that the comparison seems to be simply whimsical. There is, between the intellectual forms of the two epochs compared, an immense difference, which it is usually said proceeds from progress and civilization. We are told, and it is proved to us, how the French mind reached its apogee after much groping and many efforts and failures. But this progress is explained altogether by external causes— the influence of Christian beliefs, the crusades, great dis- coveries, Greek and Latin culture, the Renaissance, etc. But there is also, it seems to us, an internal cause of which we hear nothing; the gradual transformation of the intelligence by heredity. The average French mind in the sixth and ninth centuries was capable only of a certain degree of culture ; beyond that it under stood nothing, and distorted everything, after the manner of the New Zealand savage. But this average mental constitution, improved by culture, was bequeathed, principal and interest, to the next generation, and so on for ten or twelve centuries. This is no mere hypothesis, although it would be difficult to 324 Heredity. establish it to demonstration. Yet, if we open the Collection dcs Histories de Gaule et de France, and if, glancing at the chronicles and memoirs of the Middle Ages, we disregard the subjects which have specially engaged the minds of historians — accounts of battles, sieges, captures of hamlets, alliances and treaties of peace — and direct our attention to what they often regard as of no importance for history — that is to say, anecdotes, miracles, and dreams which give every minute and individual detail — we cannot fail to arrive at the conclusion that the state of the intellect was not then the same as to-day, and that the difference between the two epochs is constitutional, organic. It is, however, difficult to define in what the difference consists. It would require an acute mind, well acquainted with medical science, and possessed of good psycho- logical insight, to define it exactly. In general terms, it may be said that it consists in this, that the Middle Ages felt what the eighteenth century has thought ; that in the one the affections pre- dominated, in the other reason; that a brain in the Middle Ages was full of sensations and images, in the eighteenth century it was full of abstractions and ideas. Certainly in no period have men dwelt more in the region of imagination, sentiment, and dreams. This is abundantly shown in Gothic art, in chivalry, in the writings of Dante and of the various schools of mystics.1 With the exception of a few extra- ordinary minds and a few dry school-men, that whole period lived altogether in sentiment The circumstances of the times were favourable to this state of things — constant wars, battles, sieges pillage, violent emotions of every kind. The sentiment, con- tinually excited and quickened, became exaggerated like an hyper- trophied organ. Hence this curious result, that the excessive development of sensitiveness checked the development of the intelligence. In this feverish storm of emotions and impressions, cool, calm judgment appeared at a disadvantage. Then were the minds of children in the bodies of men. Whereas we find our- selves, from the period of infancy, in an atmosphere of science, 1 E.g. the schools of St. Victor, St. Bernard, Gerson, etc., and the great German mystics of the I4th century, Eckardt, Tauler, and Henry Suso. We might mention also Raymond Lulle, whose life was so romantic and eccentric. The Psychological Consequences of Her edify. 325 reason, method and rational explanations, whose special effect is to develop the mind ; they, on the contrary, were the prey of wild passions, tossed from pole to pole of thought, from orgies to ecstasies, by some conversion sudden as a thunderclap. As they felt much and thought little, they knew nothing even in old age, whereas we even in childhood know much. They died young, we are born old. Hence it is that their chroniclers give those accounts of miracles, prodigies, apparitions and dreams which succeed each other with- out end or truce, sometimes touching and poetic, oftener extrava- gant and puerile. They are at home in this world of imagination; to them a prodigy appears perfectly simple, an apparition quite natural ; miracle is, for them, matter of course. These things they recount simply, and without the shadow of a doubt, as they do a siege or battle. The universe, which for us is an infinitely complex mechanism, ruled by fixed laws down to its minutest details, was for them a wondrous stage, whereon mysterious person- ages moved the scenes. If, now, we bring all these facts together, and endeavour to trace them to their cause — that is, to the habitual state of the human soul which produced them — we shall, without much difficulty, find that the chief characteristic of the Middle Ages was lively imagination, internal vision. But experimental psychology proves, beyond the possibility of a doubt, that the difference between lively imagination and hallucination is only a Difference of degree ; so that, indeed, every great artist, every seer, is more or less subject to hallucination. Hence we are led to conclude that the Middle Ages were ever on the border of halluci- nation, if they did not overstep it. In several of these chroniclers' stories we also meet with the oppression of nightmare, and with the painful visions accompanying it ; for generally the visions are painful, though usually so distinct, so full and minute in detail, that we feel that this has been seen.1 1 Marvellous stories abound in nearly all these chronicles, and we might men- tion in particular, Gregory of Tours, Frodoardus, Mathew of Westminster, Raoul Glaber, and Guibert de Nogent in his Life, The two latter authors are specially interesting from our present point of view. It would be impossible to find hallucination better characterized than in the two following narra- tives : — 326 Heredity. We are now, after a long circuit, able to resolve our problem and to reach a conclusion. It may be remembered that we have already endeavoured to show that for every habitual mental state there is an habitual state of brain, and thence deduced the fact that for the mediaeval state of semi-hallucination there must have been a corresponding cerebral state, and another for the precise, accurate mind of the eighteenth century. This transition was effected by a slow progress — that is to say, that education and culture produced in the mind and brain trifling though stable modifications, which were handed down, preserved, and accumu- lated by heredity. Thus was formed an average intellectual con- stitution, more and more able to conceive abstract ideas, and consequently less and less able to perform mental operations by means of visions and impressions. It has often been observed that among the inferior races children who are sent to school, or whom an effort is made to instruct, at first show a surprising facility, but this suddenly ceases. Thus, the Sandwich Islanders have an excellent memory, learn by ' One night, before matins, I saw before me, at the foot of my bed, an ugly little monster in human form. He appeared to me to be of middle stature, with skinny neck, slender figure, deep-black eyes, narrow, wrinkled fore- head, flat nose, wide mouth, swollen lips, short, weak chin, goat's beard, narrow pointed ears, unkempt, lank hair, teeth like those of a dog, sharp pole, prominent chest, a hump on his back, pendant buttocks, and dirty garments. He seized the side of the bed whereon I lay, shook it with fearful violence, and kept saying : You have not long to remain here. Suddenly I awoke in alarm. ... I leaped out of my bed, ran to the monastery, threw myself at the foot of the altar, and there remained prostrate for a long time, frozen stiff, as it were, with fright. ' R. Glaber, Book v. ch. i. He saw the same devil on two other occasions. We find all the horror of nightmare in the following narrative from Guibert de Nogent : — 1 On a certain night, having been awakened by my sufferings — it was in winter, I believe — as I lay in my bed, thinking I should be in greater safety owing to the proximity of a lamp which gave a bright light, lo, all of a sudden, amid the profound silence of the night I thought I heard several voices from above. At the same moment my head received a shock as though I were dreaming ; I lost the use of my senses, and thought I saw a certain dead person appear, the while some one shouted out that he had died in the bath. Alarmed at this apparition, I leaped from my place and uttered a cry ; I saw that my lamp was out, and amid the fearful gloom discerned the demon, in his proper shape, standing erect, and beside the dead man.' Guibert de Nogent, i. xv. The Psychological Consequences of Heredity. 327 heart with wonderful rapidity ; but cannot use their thinking faculties. ' In childhood,' says Sir Samuel Baker, 'the young negro is more advanced than the white of the same age, but his mind does not bear the fruit of which it gave promise.' ' In New Zealand,' says Thompson, 'children of ten years are more intel- ligent than English children ; still, very few New Zealanders are capable of receiving, in their higher faculties, a culture equal to that of the English.' One of the reasons given in the United States for not educating negro children with the whites is, that after a certain age their progress does not correspond ; the intel- ligence of the negro appearing to be incapable of going beyond a certain point. Now if these facts are not to be attributed to an incurable defect of the nature, we have here an argument in favour of heredity. These savage minds are, as it were, uncultivated lands, which can only be broken up by the continuous toil of generations. Hence it is that in India the children of Brahmins, sprung from a class that has long been cultivated, display intel- ligence, insight, docility ; while, according to the experience of missionaries, children of the other castes are considerably their inferiors in these respects. Again, a nation cannot with impunity be robbed of the most intelligent and the bravest of its population, for that is a selection in the wrong way, and its consequences are deplorable. ' By martyrdom and imprisonment,' says Gallon, 'the Spanish nation was drained, of free-thinkers at the rate of 1,000 persons annually, for the three centuries between 1481 and 1781 ; an average of 100 persons having been executed and 900 imprisoned every year during that period. The actual data during those 300 years were 32,000 burnt, 17,000 persons burnt in effigy (I presume they mostly died in prison or escaped from Spain), and 291,000 condemned to various terms of imprisonment and other penalties. It is impossible that any nation could stand a policy like this without paying a heavy penalty in the deterioration of its breed, as has notably been the result in the superstitious, unintelligent Spanish race of the present day.' Not to accumulate further examples, we may now conclude with the remarkable words of Herbert Spencer, which sum up the intellectual consequences of heredity no less than its organic conditions : ' The human brain is an organized register of infinitely 15 328 Heredity. numerous experiences received during the evolution of life, or, rather, during the evolution of that series of organisms through which the human organism has been reached. The effects of the most uniform and frequent of these experiences have been suc- cessively bequeathed, principal and interest ; and have slowly amounted to that high intelligence which lies latent in the brain of the infant — which the infant in after life exercises, and perhaps strengthens or further complicates — and which, with minute additions, it bequeaths to future generations. And tlus it hap- pens that the European inherits from twenty to thirty cubic inches more brain than the Papuan. Thus it happens that faculties, as of music, which scarcely exist in some inferior human races, become congenital in superior ones. Thus it happens that out of savages unable to count up to the number of their fingers, and speaking a language containing only nouns and verbs, arise at length our Newtons and Shakespeares.' IV. All that has been said of the intelligence may be applied to the sentiments. We have, even, in some measure anticipated that subject, for it was impossible to borrow facts from history which should not be concrete, synthetic — that is to say, mixed with sentiments and ideas ; it is only the analytic method of psychology which separates these two elements, almost always intimately united. If I think of any triangle, a sphere, a parabola, an algebraic operation, or any other mathematic truth, the result for me is a cognition, and nothing more. But most of the objects of which we think, or which we perceive, produce in us an agreeable or a disagreeable state — i.e. a sentiment — simultaneously with their cognition. Though we class them under the general heads of pleasure and pain, the sentiments are infinite in number, in shades, in intensity, etc. It may be said that every sentiment — not including those altogether inferior modes of sensitive action which are little more than instincts — implies at least an indistinct cognition. In that low region of the unconscious, sentiment and thought seem blended in indiscriminate unity, where they cannot be reaphed directly by any of our means of cognition. But so The Psychological Consequences of Heredity. 329 soon as consciousness awakens, sentiment has always an object ; it is always referable to a known or to a supposed cause ; it accompanies cognition ; it wraps it round ; it is, as it were, its radiation. Thus the evolution of intelligence and that of senti- ment are parallel. Just as intelligence begins with slight per- ceptions, both very simple and very gross, and by a process that goes on for ages becomes able to embrace the system of the uni- verse, and to state some complex problem in social philosophy ; so sentiment starts with a very simple and very general manifesta- tion, as the instinctive love of an animal for its young, and thence rises to the most refined, exquisite, and cultured forms — the religious sentiment of Schleiermacher, and the aesthetic sentiment of Goethe or Heinrich Heine. And this transition from simple to complex is brought about, in the case of sentiment as in that of intelligence, by an integration, a fusion into one harmonious whole of many simple sentiments. It would require a power of analysis such as not even contemporary psychology yet appears to possess, to trace back, by successive decompositions, the sen- timent of nature, as found in the great poets of the nineteenth century, to the very simple sentiments and perceptions which are its basis. Certain forms of sentiment are totally wanting among primi- tive peoples. In the Australian language there are no words to translate justice, sin, crime. These people understand neither generosity, pity, nor clemency. They regard revenge as a duty. The reason is that their understanding cannot grasp the highly complicated moral relations from which these notions are derived. It has also been observed that certain sentiments of a refined nature, such as melancholy, charity, and the profound sentiment of nature, have their rise at a later period in history. The reason of this is easy to find : they presuppose the acquisition of many notions, each one of which is highly complex. The human soul must first have the idea of the infinite, of a vague and mys- terious beyond, to feel the painful depression and the refined emotion which that idea excites. It must have got beyond the narrow, local ideas of antiquity with regard to the tribe, the city, or the country, in order to experience a broader sentiment em- bracing all humanity. The sentiment of charity also — which is, 33° Heredity. however, very ancient among Buddhists in the east — had its rise among a few chosen souls, philosophers or poets, then broadened out and developed, and during the first three centuries of the Christian era it spread out into the world under the influence of the broader ideas and the gentler characters which then prevailed. Humboldt, in his Cosmos, shows that the 'sentiment of nature 'is a thing known only to the moderns in the west We might endeavour to show, were this the proper place, that under each of these complex sentiments there are many real or imaginary ideas, each one of which produces in the human soul a simple sentiment; that out of the fusion of these simple sentiments there is formed a total sentiment; but for our present purpose it is enough to have shown that the evolution of sentiment is closely connected with that of the intelligence. The conclusion is, that if heredity is the condition of the specific development of intelli- gence, and if the evolution of sentiment is in strict accord with that of intelligence, then the sentiments too depend on heredity. And here again progress is secured, not only by the external influence of manners and customs, but also by the internal influence of heredity. Among acquired sentiments which have been hereditarily aug- mented, we may mention that of fear in many wild animals. Thus, ' when the Falkland Islands were first visited by man, the large wolf-like dogs ( Cams antardiais) fearlessly came to meet Byron's sailors, who, mistaking this ignorant curiosity for ferocity, ran into the water to avoid them ; even recently a man, by holding a piece of meat in one hand and a knife in the other, could sometimes stick them at night On an island in the Sea of Aral, when first discovered by Butakoff, the saigak antelopes, generally very timid and watchful, instead of flying from the men, looked at them with a sort of curiosity. So again, on the shores of the Mauritius, the manatee was not at first in the least afraid of man ; and thus it has been in several quarters of the world with seals and the morse. The birds of several islands have very slowly acquired and inherited a dread of man. At the Galapagos Archipelago I pushed with the muzzle of my gun hawks from a branch, and held out a pitcher of water for other birds to alight on and drink.' x 1 Variation, etc., vol. i. ch. i. The Psychological Conscqtiences of Heredity. 331 The sentiment of music is reckoned by Herbert Spencer among those which are formed by hereditary accumulation. ' The habitual association of certain cadences of human speech with certain emotions, has slowly established in the race an organized and inherited connection between such cadences and such emotions. The combination of such cadences, more or less idealized, which constitutes melody, has all along had a meaning in the average mind, only because of the meaning which cadences had acquired in the average mind. By the continual hearing and practice of melody, there has been gained and transmitted an increasing musical sensibility.' When we call to mind that Mozart, Beeth- oven, Hummel, Haydn, and Weber, were the sons of distinguished composers and musicians, and if we note the surprising instance of the Bachs, we can hardly consider these facts to be spon- taneous variations. They ' can be ascribed to nothing but in- herited developments of structure, caused by augmentations of function.' l And Galton, assuming the standpoint of the heredity of the sentiments, with its consequences, passes this severe judgment on the Middle Ages. ' The long period of the dark ages under which Europe has lain is due, I believe, in a very considerable degree, to the celibacy enjoined by religious orders on their votaries. Whenever a man or woman was possessed of a gentle nature that fitted him or her to deeds of charity, to meditation, to literature, or to art, the social condition of the time was such that no refuge was possible elsewhere than in the bosom of the Church. But the Church chose to preach and exact celibacy ; the conse- quence was that these gentle natures had no continuance ; and thus, by a policy so singularly unwise and suicidal that I am hardly able to speak of it without impatience, the Church brutalized the breed of our forefathers. She acted precisely as if she had aimed at selecting the rudest portion of the community to be alone the parents of future generations. She practised the arts which breeders would use who aimed at creating ferocious, currish and stupid natures. No wonder that club law prevailed for centuries over Europe ; the wonder rather is, that enough good remained in 1 Spencer, Biology, i. § 82. 332 Heredity. the veins of Europeans to enable their race to rise to its present very moderate level of natural morality.' l Without dwelling any longer on the part played by heredity in the evolution of the sentiments, we will now consider certain curious phenomena of reversion, or atavism. We are sometimes astonished to see how obstinately the warlike and nomadic instincts which characterize savage life persist in certain civilized persons, and how difficult it is for certain natures to adapt themselves to that complex environment, the result of a host of opinions and habits, which we call civilization. Here we cannot but recognize a root of primitive savagery, preserved and vivified by heredity. Thus, the taste for war is a sentiment very general among savages : for them life is warfare. This instinct, common to all primitive people, has been of service in the progress of humanity, if, as we may well believe, it has insured the victory of the stronger and more intelligent races over those less gifted. But these war- like instincts, preserved and accumulated by heredity, have become a true cause of destruction, of carnage, and of ruin. After having served to create social life, they are no longer of any use but to destroy it; after having assured the triumph of civilization, they now only contribute toward its overthrow. Even when these instincts do not bring two nations into conflict, they manifest themselves in ordinary life in certain individuals, by a quarrelsome, contentious disposition, which leads often to revenge, to duels, and to murder. So, too, with regard to the love of adventure : savage races possess this to such a degree that they launch out into the unknown with all the thoughtlessness of children. No doubt this love of ad- venture has still a rightful place even in the most advanced civili- zations, and it would be a great misfortune for humanity were it to disappear. Yet it cannot be denied that this enterprising, reckless spirit, serviceable as it is at first in opening new worlds to com- merce, travel, science, and art, has for some men been only a source of vain or ruinous excitement, the only one which circum- stances permit them — like gaming, speculation, and intrigue, or the selfish, turbulent ambition of conquerors, who sacrifice whole nations to their caprice. 1 Hereditary Genius, p. 357. The Psychological Consequences of Heredity. 333 'We sometimes see the reappearance, in remote descendants, of ancient race-instincts that for many generations have lain dormant or hidden, but which now come to light as an unac- countable return to the moral type of the ancestors. The higher classes of society furnish us with the most striking instances of this; as if the leisure and independence which their wealth assures to them, exempting them from the influence of the local environment and the present conditions of the life of their race, set at liberty psychical forces which are held in check among their contem- poraries. Thus an irresistible instinct for theft not only is some- times manifested among the children of cultivated races, in whom it is usually soon corrected by education, but even at times persists in adults, and with irresistible force betrays women belonging to our ancient noble castes into offences hardly excusable by their inability to conquer fate or evidently fatalistic character — unhappy heiresses of the old instincts of our barbarous conquerors. * So, too, with that passionate love of hunting, which is no longer of use under our present social conditions; which exists more or less as an instinct in every child; which even persists and develops so readily in every adult possessed of the means of indulging it, and inspires all our fashionable youth, and the remnants of our terri- torial nobility ; it can only be explained by the blind and predes- tined heredity of race-instincts that have long survived their utility, in the descendants of peoples for whom these same instincts were long essential conditions of life. Here, then, we have merely phenomena of atavism, which preserves, or bring to light at in- tervals, the psychical characteristics of remote ancestors.'1 It would be hard to find a more striking example of the tenacity of savage instincts, and of their tendency to reappear, than is found in the following narrative from a voyage to the Philippine Islands : — ' These savages have ever been distinguished from the other Polynesian races by their unconquerable love of freedom. The repugnance of the Negritos (as the Philippine Islanders are called) to everything that could subjugate them or make them live by rule, will make them always objects of interest to the traveller. Here is an instance of their love of independence : — 1 Origine de FHomme ct de Sociitts, par Mine. Roycr, ch. iv. 334 Heredity. ' In a raid made on the Isle of Lugon by native soldiers, under the orders of a Spanish officer, a young black about three years old was taken prisoner. He was carried to Manilla, An American having offered the authorities to adopt him, the boy was baptized and named Pedrito. 'When he was of proper age to receive some instruction, an effort was made to give him as good an education as is to be got in those remote regions. Old residents in the island, who knew the Negrito character, laughed in their sleeves at the attempts made to civilize Pedrito. They predicted that sooner or later the young savage would go back to his mountains. His adopted father, aware of the jests made on his care for Pedrito, was nettled by them, and announced his intention of taking the boy to Europe. He took him to New York, Paris, and London, and only brought him back to the Philippines at the end of two years' travelling. ' Gifted with all the readiness of the black race, Pedrito spoke with equal fluency Spanish, French, and English ; he would wear on his feet nothing but fine, polished boots, and every one at Manilla to this day remembers the grave air, worthy of a "gentle- man," with which he met the first advances of persons who had not been introduced to him. Scarcely two years after his return from Europe he disappeared from the house of his protector. The mockers triumphed. We should probably never have learned what became of the philanthropic Yankee's adopted son were it not for the singular meeting a European had with him. A Prussian naturalist, a kinsman of the celebrated Humboldt, resolved to make the ascent of Mount Marivalis, not far from Manilla. He had almost reached the summit of the peak when he all at once found himself in presence of a swarm of little blacks. . . . The Prussian was preparing to sketch a few portraits when one of the savages drew near to him smiling, and asked him, in English, if he was acquainted at Manilla with an American of the name of Graham. It was our friend Pedrito. He told his entire history ; when it was ended, the naturalist tried, but in vain, to induce him to return with him to Manilla.' l In missionary narratives we find abundance of similar facts. 1 Jtante des Deux Mondes, 15 Juin, 1869. Moral Consequences of Heredity. 335 Thus the missionary societies sometimes adopt Chinese infants and have them educated in European institutions at great expense : they go back to their own country with the resolve to propagate the Christian religion, but scarcely have they disembarked when the spirit of their race seizes upon them, they forget their promises, and lose all their Christian beliefs. It might be supposed that they had never left China. 1 To sum up, the consequences of heredity have been found to be twofold. Now it builds for the future, making possible, by the accumulation of simple sentiments, the production of sentiments more complex. Again it goes back towards the past, setting up again forms of sensitive activity once natural, now in disaccord with their environment. For there exist in the bottom of the soul, buried in the depths of our being, savage instincts, nomadic tastes, -unconquered and sanguinary appetites which slumber but die not They resemble those rudimentary organs which have outlived their functions, but which still remain as witnesses to the slow, progressive evolution of the forms of life. And these savage instincts, developed in man during the past, whilst he lived free amid the forests and streams, are from time to time recalled by heredity, by some trick which we do not under- stand, as though to let us measure with the eye the length of road over which we have travelled. CHAPTER III. MORAL CONSEQUENCES OF HEREDITY. I. AT the first step in every study of morals we meet the inextri- cable problem of free-will. We are the less able to avoid it here, since it touches our subject at more than one point We have already often directed attention to the fatalistic character of heredi- tary transmission, and the reader must see that what we give to heredity we take from free-will, and that heredity offers an abundant 1 A. Reville, Revue des Dcttx Afondes, I* Sept1"*' 1869. 336 Heredity. source, though hitherto but little explored, of arguments in favour of fatalism. This much is certain, that heredity and free-will are two opposite and irreconcilable terms. The one creates in us the personality, the character ; it is the peculiar mark which dis- tinguishes us from what is not ourselves ; it is that in us which is most essential, most intimate. The other tends to substitute the species for the person, to blot out what is individual, and to sub- ject all to the impersonal fatalism of its laws, so that we are necessarily destined to feel, think, and act as our fathers, whose thoughts, apparently extinct, re-live in us. In a word, by free- will we are ourselves, by heredity we are others. We have, therefore, to consider the question of free-will. This we will endeavour to do very briefly, dismissing all solutions that have been disproved, and simply exhibiting the question as it stands in the present state of science. The partisans and the opponents of free-will may contend for ever without agreeing, provided each side stands on its own ground and will not quit it Those who hold the affirmative proceed subjectively, saying : I have an inner sense of my freedom of will, therefore I am free. Those who hold those negative proceed objec- tively, saying : All things are regulated according to laws ; moral as well as physical science proves this, therefore free-will is an illusion. Each occupies a point of view totally different from that of the other. The argument of the former seems at first view decisive, but on reflection it is found less conclusive. If, with the greater part of the philosophers in the last two centuries, we consider psychologi- cal life as limited to the domain of consciousness, and if we identify the soul with the ego, then we may hold that the various motives of which we are conscious are counsel, advice, reasons, subjects of deliberation, but they are not that which deliberates, compares, selects ; and that, consequently, a voluntary act supposes, besides motives, something more. But if we may hold, as we may with truth, that besides the conscious life there is also an unconscious life whose influence is very great on our sentiments, our passions, our ideas, our activity in general, who can tell what part this uncon- scious agent may play in our determinations ? Hence the asser- tion, I have a consciousness that I am free, therefore I am free, Moral Consequences of Heredity. 337 loses much of its value, because consciousness supplies only a portion of the elements of the problem, and by no means supplies them all. Furthermore, this unconscious agency, which is over- looked, may be, as we shall see, the very groundwork, the essence, and, as it were, the root of the will As for those who, regarding the testimony of consciousness as secondary, adopt an objective method, they derive their arguments chiefly from two sources, physical and physiological phenomena, and historical and social facts. The physical world, say they, is subject to the laws of a deter- minism which allows no exception. Experience proves, and science demands this. Science is explanation ; to explain is to determine, and to determine a phenomenon is to refer it to its immediate conditions, or to its laws. We have no intelligible idea of a phenomenon that is produced spontaneously, with nothing to determine it to be, or to be in one way rather than in another. That would be a creation ex nihilo, a miracle. Leibnitz, and after him Laplace, have very forcibly expressed this truth. Physics and chemistry having demonstrated that nothing comes into being and that nothing perishes — neither. matter nor force — that there occur only transformations, which themselves are determinable, the idea of universal determinism has become a scientific common- place. The principle of the correlation or equivalence of forces is the highest expression of this belief in determinism. Thus Mr. Herbert Spencer, taking his stand on this principle of equivalence, reduces all phenomena, without exception, to transformations of motion ; according to him, social facts arise out of certain psycho- logical states, and these out of certain physiological conditions, life itself resulting from the play of physical forces : ' And if it be asked, whence these physical forces which through the intermedium of the vital forces produce the social forces ? we reply, as we have all along, from solar radiation.' In a world where all things are so firmly linked together, what place is there for free-will ? What right have you, say the deter- minists, to break up the series of effects and causes, for the purpose of bringing in an unintelligible spontaneity ? You say, when I wish to move my arm I move it; but this movement is not, as you sup- pose, a creation — it must have already existed in your organism 338 Heredity. under a different form ; and the very act whereby you form your resolution is conditioned, is subject to determinism. There is ground for believing that every mental state is determined by organic conditions, and that consequently it comes indirectly under the laws of universal determinism. Even though you dispute this, you are in no better case, for at least you must concede that this mental state depends on those which precede it, and that it is sub- ject to the laws of association, called into existence by association; but these laws of association are only one form of determinism. It has been thought that this difficulty may be obviated by taking the ground that, supposing the voluntary act to be an effect, it is not therefore a necessary effect, and that causality does not always imply constraint, nor, consequently, necessity. To us this explana- tion seems not to go to the root of the question. The problem is not whether motives have or have not the character of coercion, but whether there is, besides motives and determining causes, a spontaneity which belongs to the individual himself. We might, indeed, regard our ideas, sentiments, and passions as forming a system of forces, each of which tends to pass over into action. There would occur between them action and reaction, attractions and repulsions, some of them combining to act in unison, others warring with one another, while others again are mutually neu- tralized wholly or in part On this hypothesis the voluntary act — the final result of a conflict of forces — would not appear to be a constrained effect, and yet it would not have even the shadow of free-will. It would be so far from being free that, given the elementary forces, we might calculate the act as a problem in mechanics. If free-will exists, it can only consist in that property of the subject whereby it reacts against the determining causes, and in consequence of this reaction determines certain acts. Before we examine more closely this obscure question, which will bring us unexpectedly back again to heredity, let us briefly consider the difficulties raised against freedom of will by the moral sciences. Considerations drawn from the general course of history and from the sequence of historical facts are always somewhat vague. The study of social phenomena, classified and computed in statistics, gives a firmer ground for objections. As Quetelet, Buckle, Wundt, Moral Consequences of Heredity. 339 and LittreV have observed, all acts commonly regarded as result- ing from free-will — such as murders, thefts, crimes and offences of all kinds, marriages, divorces, suicides — reach about the same figure year after year in a given country. Thus, in Belgium, in the five years 1841 — 5 the average number of marriages in cities was 2,642 per annum, the utmost deviations being + 46 and — 136. In France, during the long period between 1826 and 1844, the number of criminals per annum varied from 8,237 to 6,299, and so on. It is certain that we cannot glance at the statistics of the various human acts without being struck with the regularity of their occur- rence. This proves that man's causality is governed by laws which admit very little variation, but it in no wise proves that such causality does not exist. We entirely believe in the existence of social and historical laws, but statistics cannot teach us whether these laws stand alone, or whether there is not besides an indeter- minate number of causes. As Wundt very well remarks, when we extend our observations from one man over a whole population, we eliminate all those causes which appertain only to the individual, or to a small portion of the population. We adopt the same pro- cedure as the physicist, who, in order to eliminate all accidental influences, always brings together a great number of observations and thence deduces a law. But when the statistician, having thus put aside the individual influences, concludes that they have no existence, it is as though the physicist were to conclude that the accidental influences he eliminated in the general did not exist in the individual. The physicist may disregard these, since for him they have no significance ; but as for the psychologist — who raises the question whether besides the social influences there exist causes of volition of an individual nature — he, of course, may not overlook those deviations proper to each particular case, for they indicate the existence of individual causes.2 From what has been said we get little more than negative notions about free-will, and, indeed, it is perhaps impossible to go 1 The reader will find some curious statistics in the R&vue de Philosophit Positive, for Sept 1868. 1 Wundt, vol. ii. ch. 56. 34O Heredity. any further. For our part, we are inclined to regard free-will as a noumenon, and therefore an insoluble enigma. Still, taking their stand on the ground of experience, and without any pretensions of penetrating to ultimate principles, the most recent psychologists (of the school which treats psychology as a natural science) have given this question of free-will a new aspect, which enables us better to apprehend its relations with heredity. They all recognize the necessity of admitting in man a proper spontaneity, and this some of them hold to be chiefly physiological, others chiefly psy- chological. In England the chief exponent of these views is Bain, in Germany Wundt. According to Bain,1 the germ of the will is to be found in that spontaneous activity which has its seat in the nerve-centres, and which needs no impressions from without, nor any interior feeling whatever to bring it into play. No psychologist before him had ever spoken of this spontaneous activity, or of its essential connec- tion with voluntary acts. The first mention of it is in Muller. That physiologist observes that the foetus performs movements that evidently cannot depend on the complex causes which deter- mine the movements of the adult The cause of these movements can exist only in the nerve-centres ; and as the nervous force is not equally distributed all over the body, but is accumulated in certain centres, these differences determine the foetus to move in one way rather than in another. Hence the germ of will-power is a spontaneous excitation; it is a primordial fact of our nature; and the stimulus proceeding from our sensations and sentiments does not supply the internal power, but merely determines the mode and the measure of action. While we admit the psychological importance of this discovery, and the merit of having clearly put it forward, we do not think that it helps us much. Mr. Bain tells us nothing about the origin of this nervous force, or of the causes which determine its accu- mulation in one place rather than in another. But he elsewhere has asserted, and as strongly as any one, that 'the true source, the true antecedent of all muscular power, is a liberal expenditure of nervous and muscular energy, which in the last resort derives from 1 Bain, Emotions and Will. Moral Consequences of Heredity. 341 a good respiration and a good digestion .... that what carbon in a state of combustion is to a steam-engine, food and airare to the living organism, and that consciousness, which is produced by the expenditure of power, is no more the cause of this power than the light from the furnace is the source of the movement of the engine.' Nor is it easy to believe that this spontaneity does not itself come under mechanical laws. Nerve -force can be only the transformation of some prior physical force. The inequality of its distribution over the body must also depend on physical or mechanical causes. Hence we do not see what becomes of this ' spontaneity,' acted on as it is on all sides by mechanical laws. Wundt, in a very remarkable and important work, full of facts and ideas, which unites to the experimental and positive method of English psychology a certain German boldness without rashness, puts the question of free-will under a different form. We have already seen that he protests against conclusions drawn from statistics, showing that in human acts there is a variable element which statistical science may rightly enough overlook, but which the psychologist must endeavour to reassert; that, moreover, if statistics disclose to us the external causes of voluntary activity, they leave us in absolute ignorance of its internal causes. These internal causes constitute what Wundt very well denominates the personal factor (der personliche Factor). External factors, he says, we denominate motives, but not causes of will. ' Between motive and cause there exists an essen- tial difference. A cause necessarily produces its effect, not so a motive. It is true that a cause may be neutralized by another cause, or transformed into its effect, but in this transformation we can always track the effect of the prior cause and even measure it A motive, on the other hand, can only either determine or not determine the will ; in the latter case, we have no means of know- ing its effect The uncertainty of this connection between the motive and the will is based solely on the existence of the personal factor.'1 1 Vorlesungen iiber die Menschen und Thierseele, vol. ii. pp. 414, seq. See also, Annalist Fniologica del Libero Arbitrio C/mano, by Dr. Herzen, Florence. 1870. 342 Heredity. What, then, is this personal factor which thus mysteriously breaks in on the series of causes and effects ? It is ' the internal essence of the personality, the character.' There we must look for the root of will. ' Character is the sole immediate cause of voluntary activity. Motives are always only indirect causes. Betwixt motives and the causality of character there is this great difference, that motives either are or may readily become conscious, whereas this causality is ever absolutely unconscious.' Hence character — per- sonality— must for ever remain an enigma, so far as its inmost nature is concerned ; it is the indeterminable Ding an sick of Kant ' The motives which determine the will are a part of the universal concatenation of causes ; but the personal factor, where- with will commences, does not enter into this concatenation. Whether this inmost essence of personality, upon which, in the last resort, rests all the difference between individuals, is itself subject to causality, we can never decide on the ground of direct experience.' ' When it is asserted that the character of man is a product of air and light, of education and of destiny, of food and climate, and that it is necessarily predetermined by these influences, like every natural phenomenon, the conclusion is absolutely undemon- strable. Education and destiny presuppose a character which de- termines them : that is here taken to be an effect which is partly a cause. But the facts of psychical heredity make it very highly probable that, could we reach the initial point of the individual life, we should there find an independent germ of personality (Sclbstdn- diger) which cannot be determined from without, inasmuch as it precedes all external determination.' * We readily accept this doctrine of Wundt It possesses the advantage of showing, on the one hand, that free-will, considered in its essence, is a noumenon ; and on the other hand, that on the ground of experience the fatalistic and the ordinary view are not irreconcilable ; but, inasmuch as the ultimate roots of the wili repose in the unconscious, we may suspect such a reconciliation, but we cannot establish it. We will abide by this conclusion. We have elsewhere endeavoured to show — and we will not repeat 1 Wundt, vol. ii. p. 416. Moral Consequences of Heredity. 343 our argument — that psychology, even experimental psychology, must admit a certain element which comes before us as a fact ; this we call the ego, the person, the character : no other word will designate it properly, but of it we can only say that it is that which in us is inmost, and which distinguishes and differentiates us from what is not ourselves ; this it is by which our ideas, our sentiments, our sensations, our volitions are given to us as ours, and not as the phenomena of something outside ourselves. And we put the question, whether the instinct of self-preservation, which is so strong in animals, may not be this individual principle, cleaving stubbornly to existence, and struggling to maintain its hold on life ? If now we study the part played by personality, not now in psychology, but in history, the problem occurs in the same terms, and seems resolvable in the same way. The individual is subject to the laws of nature, both physical and moral, and is governed by them. But' beyond the almost boundless field of determinism we have had a glimpse of the possibility, and even the necessity, of an autonomy, a spontaneity. So, too, in history, where the action of natural laws is great, where, indeed, it is nearly every- thing, we must also assign its due part to personality, as re- presented especially by great men. 'The expedition of Alex- ander and the poetry of Homer are both due to individuals. But had Alexander never lived it is probable that the course of history would have been other than it has been ; and if Homer had not lived perhaps the religion and the manners of the Greeks would have taken another form. . . . Individual will, there- fore, exerts a great influence . . .*. yet this influence is but a mo- mentary cause. Homer changed the manners of the Greeks only because the Greeks made his poetic creations their own ; and Alexander could never have made his mark so deeply in history, were it not that his will had the same ground as the general will.' * Both history and psychology, then, appear to lead us to the conclusion that determinism does not suffice to explain every- thing. But if we push our inquiries still further, we are met by a fresh difficulty. With regard to this personality — whose true Wundt, ibid. p. 408. 344 Heredity. nature we despair of knowing, because it rests in the unfathom- able depths of the unconscious — do we at least know whence it is, what is its origin ? Clearly, there can be but two hypotheses : either we must say that at every birth there is an act of special creation, which places in each being the germ of its character, of its personality ; or we must admit that this germ is the product of preceding generations, and that it necessarily comes from the nature of the parents and from the circumstances of the generative act The first hypothesis is so unscientific that it is hardly worth discussing. Hence we have to consider only the second. Here, then, we find ourselves at the very heart of the matter. We imagined we were escaping from heredity, and now we meet with it in that very germ which is the one thing in us which is inmost, most essential and most personal. After having shown, by a long enumeration of facts, that the sensitive and intellectual faculties are transmitted — that we may inherit' an instinct, a passion, a variety of imagination, as well as consumption, or rickets, or long life — we expected that at least one portion of psychological life would be found to lie beyond the reach of deter- minism, and that character, personality, the ego, would be found exempt from the law of heredity. But heredity, or in other words determinism, meets us on every side, from within and from without Nay, even if with the evolutionists we recognize in heredity a force which not only preserves, but which also creates by accumulation, then not only is the character transmitted, but it is the work of fate, made up bit by bit, by the slow and unconscious but ever accumulating toil of generations. The question becomes perfectly inextricable — an enigma within an enigma. We are not so simple as to attempt its solution. We touch here upon that region of the unknowable to which every inquiry into first causes inevitably leads. Here science ends, and it is as little scientific to hold with the fatalists that there exists in the universe only an absolute determinism, without exception, as to say with their opponents that determinism is only a lower mode of ex- istence, lying outside of and beneath free-will. Though the former school may show very well that free-will is governed by fixed laws, they can bring forward no fact to decide whether the final cause of Moral Consequences of Heredity. 345 all things is mechanism or free-will. To this end the physiological and psychological phenomenon of generation would have to be without mystery, whereas such is not the case. On the other hand, when Schopenhauer and his followers assert that free-will lies without the categories of causality, time and space, by the aid of which we think, and that these forms of thought are inappli- cable to it because that in its essence it is not a phenomenon, and therefore cannot fall into the universal concatenation — they advance a metaphysical hypothesis, perhaps true, certainly in- genious and specious, but for which verification is impossible ; they offer a possibility as a reality. But taking, as we do, the humble standpoint of experience, we can only say that if character — what Kant calls empiric character — is inherited, it is so only with many exceptions ; that this heredity is even harder to prove than that of a simple mode of psychical activity; and that in proportion as we descend towards the unconscious, which is the groundwork of the character, this affirmation becomes more and more hypothetical, without, however, being stripped of probability. We can now reach a practical conclusion. The basis of morals is responsibility ; can it be said that heredity suppresses this ? There is no universal reply to this question, but we may reduce all the particular cases under two principal heads. One of these comprises all those cases where inherited ten- dencies do not possess an irresistible character. Man inherits from his ancestors certain modes of sensation and of thought, and is therefore disposed to will, and consequently to act as they did. This heredity of impulses and tendencies constitutes an order of internal influences, in the midst of which the individual lives, but which he has the power of judging and of overcoming. They do not, any more than any other internal or external circumstances, imply the suppression of free-will, the abolition of the personal factor, or the irresistible necessity of acts. 'In a word, it is for heredity, as for spontaneity, to give a more or less sensible inclina- tion to good or evil, and consequently more or less disposition to commit faults. But vice or virtue does not depend on either; vice or virtue is not self-existent — they do not consist in the fatal nature of the internal or external impulses acting on us, but in the 346 Heredity. mental and executive agreement of the will. For all these reasons they are personal — they depend on free-will, and are not hereditary.' The second case is that in which inherited tendencies possess an irresistible character. Not to speak of those states of well- defined insanity in which the individual is aliemis a se, where per- sonality disappears, assailed and finally overcome by fatal impulses or fixed ideas, we have seen indisputable cases where the tendency to vice and to crime is a heritage which descends with the cer- tainty of fate. The personal factor has then no strength to react against these interior impulses. Let the reader recall the many instances of this kind cited under the head of Heredity of Senti- ments and Passions. In such cases there is no responsibility. In this unceasing conflict which goes on within us between individual and specific characteristics, between personality and heredity, and, in more general terms, between free-will and fate, free-will is more frequently overcome than is commonly supposed. But this is often not admitted, and as Burdach well observes, with the excellent intention of proving to man that he is free, we too often forget ' that heredity has actually more power over our mental constitution and our character than all external influences, physical or moral.' This we shall now see under another form, when we inquire into the relations between education and heredity. IL Great stress has recently been laid on the influence of the physical environment. It has been shown how the climate, the air, the character of the soil, the diet, the nature of the food and drink — all that in physiology is comprised under the tech- nical terms drcumfusa, ingesta, etc. — shape the human organism by their incessant action ; how those latent, silent sensations which do not come into consciousness, but still are ever thronging the nerves of sense, eventually form that habitual mode of the con- stitution which we call temperament The influence of education is analogous. It is a moral environ- ment, and its result is the creation of a habit We might even affirm that this moral environment is as complex, as hetero- geneous and changeable, as any physical environment For Moral Consequences of Heredity. 347 education, in the full and exact meaning of the term, does not consist simply of the lessons of our parents and teachers : manners, religious beliefs, what we read, what we hear, all these are so many silent influences which act on the mind, just as latent sensations act on the body, and which contribute to our education; that is to say, they cause us to contract habits. But we must not exaggerate. Some — such as Lamarck and his daring predecessors — have attributed so much to the influence of the physical environment as to make it simply a creator ; and so great power has often been attributed to education, that the individual character would be its work, to the exclusion of all native energy. Thus the expression of Leibnitz was bold : Entrust me with educa- tion, and in less than a century I will change the face of Europe. Descartes too, attributing to his method what was the fruit of his genius, goes so far as to say that ' sound understanding (ban sens) is the most widely diffused thing in all the world, and all differences between mind and mind spring from the fact that we conduct our thoughts over different routes.' The sensist school, in its abhor- rence for everything innate, has exaggerated even this view. According to Locke, ' out of one hundred men more than ninety are good or bad, useful or harmful to society, owing to the educc- tion they have received.' Helvetius, carrying this view to its extreme, holds that ' all men are born equal and with equal facul- ties, and that education alone produces a difference between them.' With astonishing obstinacy he propounds the incredible paradox that men do not differ from one another in acuteness of sense, reach of memory, or capacity for attention, and that all possess in themselves the power of rising to the highest ideas ; differences of mind depend entirely on circumstances.1 It is highly important that we ascribe to education only what belongs to it, and that we vindicate against it the rights of spon- taneity, for the cause of spontaneity is our own. To us spontaneity and heredity are one. Whether certain psychic qualities result from spontaneous variation, or from hereditary transmission, is a question of no importance. We have only to show that they exist before education, which may at times transform them, but never t f Esprit, 3« Discoura 348 Heredity. creates them ; and that the opponents of heredity err when they explain by the external cause of education what results from the internal cause of character. Their argument often consists in stating this dilemma, which to them appears decisive : Either children do not resemble their parents, and then there is no law of heredity, or they do resemble them morally, and then there is no need to look for any other cause than education. It is per- fectly natural that a painter or a musician should teach his art to his son, that a thief should train his children to theft, that a child born amid debauchery should bear the impress of his surround- ings. We must do Gall the justice to admit that he clearly saw and proved, in the teeth of the prevailing prejudices, that the faculties which occur in all the individuals of a species exist in the various individuals in very different degrees, and that this variety of apti- tudes, propensities and characteristics is a universal fact common to all classes of beings, independently of education. Thus, among domesticated animals, all spaniels and pointers by no means exhibit the same acuteness of scent, the same skill in tracking, etc. ; shepherd dogs are by no means all gifted with the same instinct ; racehorses of the same stock differ from one another in speed, and draught horses of the same race differ from one another in strength. The same is true of wild animals. Singing birds have by nature the note peculiar to their species, but they differ from one another in the style, the depth, the range, and the charm of their voice. Pierquin has even discovered among horses and dogs imbeciles, maniacs, and lunatics. In the case of man, a few well chosen instances will suffice to show the part played by spontaneity, often only another name for heredity, and to cut short the incomplete explanations drawn from the influence of education. The reader will remember how D'Alembert, a foundling, brought up by a poor glazier's wife, without means or advice, derided by his adoptive mother, his comrades, and his master, who did not understand him, still vrent his way without losing courage, and became at twenty-four a member of the Academic des Sciences ; and this was only the beginning of his fame. Suppose him brought up by his own mother, Mademoiselle de Tencin, admitted at an early age to that Moral Consequences of Heredity. 349 famous salon where so many men of note were wont to assemble, initiated by them into the problems of science and philosophy, refined by their conversation : in such case the opponents of heredity could not fail to see in his genius the product of his edu- cation. The lives of most great men show that the influence of education on them was in some instances of no moment at all, in others injurious, generally trifling. If we take great captains, thai is to say, the men whose entrance into life is most easily fixed because it is the most brilliant, we find Alexander entering on his career as a conqueror at the age of twenty; Scipio Africanus (the elder) at twenty-four, Charlemagne at thirty, Charles XII. at eighteen, Prince Eugene commanding the Austrian army at twenty- five, Buonaparte the army of Italy at twenty-six, etc. And the same precocity in many thinkers, artists, inventors, and men of science, shows how small a thing education is, compared with spontaneity. We restrict education, as we think, within its just limits, when we say that its power is never absolute and that it exerts no effica- cious action except upon mediocre natures. Suppose the various human intelligences to be so graduated as to form a great linear series, rising from idiocy, the bottom of the scale, to genius, which is at the top. The influence of education is at its minimum at the two ends of the series. On the idiot it has hardly any effect : unheard of exertions and prodigies of patience and ingenuity often produce only insignificant and transient results. But as we rise towards the middle degrees this influence grows greater. It attains its maximum in average minds, which, being neither good nor bad, are much what chance makes them ; but as we ascend to the higher forms of intelligence we see it again decrease, and as we come nearer to the highest order oi genius it tends towards its minimum. So variable is the influence of education that we may doubt whether it is ever absolute. It is needless to cite facts from his- tory, which tells only of men of eminence or distinction — we need only appeal to every-day experience. It is not rare to find children sceptical in religious families, or religious in sceptical families ; debauched men amid good examples, or ambitious men in a family of retiring, peaceable disposition. Yet we are speaking 35° Heredity. only of ordinary people, whose life passes away on a restricted stage, who die and are forgotten. Education is a sum of habits : among civilized nations it builds up an edifice so skilfully contrived, so complicated, so labo- riously raised, that we are astonished if we examine it in detail. Compare the savage with the accomplished gentleman, and how great is the difference. The fact is that six thousand years and more stand between the two. Many of the habits which we con- tract through education have cost the race centuries of effort Education has to fix in us the results achieved by many hundreds of generations. Millions of men have been needed to invent and bring to perfection those methods which develop the body, culti- vate the mind, and fashion the manners. Consider what is implied in the words ' a complete education.' To know how to walk, to run, to wrestle, to fence, to ride, and all other bodily exercises; to know several languages, to make verses, and study music, drawing, painting ; to reflect and reason ; to be conformed to the customs, usages, and conventionalities of society. Each of these acts, and many others, must needs have become a habit, an almost mechan- ical mode of life in us, and a perfect education results from the fusion of these habits. There must needs have been formed in us, by many artificial processes, a second nature, which so envelops our original nature as to seem to have absorbed it Most commonly, however, such is not the case. It is not rare in our own times to find in families of high, and even princely station, individuals over- laid with such an education as this, but it is only a very thin covering indeed — a glossy varnish that on the slightest friction scales off, and then the true, that is the brute, nature appears with all its savage instincts and unbridled appetites; in an instant it bursts all the bonds which civilization has imposed upon it, and finds itself, as it were, at home in barbarism. We are sometimes amazed at seeing nations highly civilized, gentle, humane, charit- able in time of peace, giving themselves up to every excess so soon as war has broken out The reason of this is that war, being a return to the savage state, awakens the primitive nature of man, as it subsisted prior to culture, and brings it back with all its heroic daring, its worship of force, and its boundless lusts. As Carlyle has said, civilization is only a covering underneath Moral Consequences of Heredity. 351 which the savage nature of man continually bums with an infernal fire. We must ever bear in mind these facts, and be careful not to be- lieve that education explains everything. We would not, however, in the least detract from its importance. Education, after centuries of effort, has made us what we are. Moreover, to bear sway over average minds is in itself a grand part to play; for though it is the higher minds that act, it is mediocre minds that react, and history teaches that the progress of humanity is as much the result of the reactions which communicate motion, as of the actions which first determine it in. We are now in a position to inquire into the part which heredity plays in the formation of moral habits. Our task were easy enough if the genesis of moral ideas and the history of their development had been discovered. Had some one, taking for his standpoint the doctrine of evolution, shown through what successive phases human morality must needs have passed in order to rise from the lower forms of savage life to the higher forms of our present civili- zation ; had the various stages of this progress been so marked that we might see their logical dependence, and understand why one precedes and another follows, and wherein the former is the condi- tion of the latter — we could then readily discover the place of heredity as a factor in this development Unfortunately, the genesis of moral ideas has never been traced with anything like perfection, and it is a work to be attempted only by some master hand. While we wait for this to be done by Mr. Spencer in his Principles of Sociology, we are compelled to attempt here a coarse and imperfect sketch. In doing this there are two possible methods. We might pro- ceed analytically, starting from current moral ideas, as now mani- fested in the usages, laws, and opinions of civilized nations ; then, tracing back the course of history, we would eliminate all sentiments of new formation, thus by successive simplifications reaching the basis, the essential condition of all morality. Or we might proceed synthetically, starting from the rudest state of society, and Ifi 352 Heredity. then, with the aid of anthropology, psychology, philology and history, determining the evolution of moral ideas and their steady progress from the simple to the complex. There is of course a point where history fails us. History, being the consciousness of civilized nations, necessarily implies continuity of tradition, whether oral or written; and such continuity could not be found among people without arts, without monuments, and whose records are only from day to day. But where history falls short, anthropology may yet serve as a guide. Yet we will not inquire whether the human race has ever had a 'purely physiological period.' It suffices for us to begin our inves- tigation with that primitive epoch which we call the savage state. The savage is like the child : all travellers are unanimous on this point. He is chiefly characterized, psychically, by the exclusive predominance of sensibility and imagination (under their lower forms), and consequently, from the moral point of view, by the most absolute individualism. Their impressions and their ideas possess an extraordinary mobility, which finds expression in an exuberance of gesture, exclamations, contortions, and monkey-tricks. They act less with design than by caprice. The portrait drawn by Dumont d'Urville of the natives of Australia, answers in every respect to children, even in the minor details, especially the child- ish pronunciation of certain letters, such as s and r. It is impos- sible that they should possess anything more than the merest outlines of morality. As each individual is at every moment carried away by violent and sudden outbursts of passion, as his life is only a whirlwind of caprices, and as, in the absence of reflection, there is never a moment's interval between desire and act, the result is a turbulent and sanguinary existence, without anything like order or reason. The first progress is made under the pressure of authority. The wisest, speaking as kings or priests in the name of a God, or of a supernatural power — which alone has any control over those wild natures — impose restrictions on this absolute liberty of the individual. These ordinances, though frequently violated, are nevertheless the first germ of social justice ; and so soon as some regard for property is established we discern the first linea- ments of a civilization. Such were, half a century ago, the Moral Consequences of Heredity. 353 inhabitants of New Zealand and the Tonga Islands. The former, who were superior to the average Australian, more thoughtful and more intelligent, already had clear notions about the rights of pro- perty, and even about the rights of nations — they put trust in the word of their enemies. Theft was rare among them. Marsden says that a chief was angry with a man who had stolen some old iron, and he gives other instances of their honesty.1 Any tribe that is incapable of rising to this idea of justice and of reciprocal duties, or of incorporating it in their manners, is fated to perish by the inevitable logic of events. This leads us to estimate at its true value a doctrine still largely diffused, which regards morality as simply conventional. The philosophers of the eighteenth century were disinclined to see in it anything more than an artificial production, based on a primitive contract Before their time, Pascal had advanced this theory in a famous passage, where he himself did but express a thought previously uttered by Mon- taigne: 'They do but trifle when, in order to give certitude to laws, they say that some of them are stable, perpetual, and immovable, which they call natural laws.' This scepticism has been opposed only by denunciation and denial, based on vague proofs. Perhaps if its opponents had accepted the evolution of moral ideas they would have found a better answer, because that analysis, penetrating to the very basis of morality, shows its nature and its stability. We might say that morality is natural, as is proved by the fact that it is an absolute condition of man's existence, and might establish our position thus : — man, considered as an intelligent being, can only live in a society ; this is proved by the most positive facts ; in a state of isolation man is without a mind. On the other hand, society, even in its simplest form, can only exist on certain definite con- ditions. Suppose a society whose members hold it to be right, or else simply indifferent, to murder and pillage one another; where parents abandon their children, and children maltreat their parents — it is quite clear that such a society cannot subsist; it will perish by a vice inherent in its very constitution. As well 1 For the particulars see Dumont d'Urville, tomes iii. and iv., Pikts Justifi 354 Heredity. might we say that an acephalous or hydrocephalous monster can live and breed — which would be a physiological absurdity. It is inevitable that every monster and every organism outside of the normal conditions of existence shall perish ; and this is true also of the body social. But morality reduced to its essentials — that is, to those natural laws which excite Montaigne's merriment — consists in those essential conditions without which man dis- appears. Thus, to sum up, without morality no society, and without society no human race. Therefore we have here no con- vention, and we may truly say morality is natural, since it is a necessary consequence of the very nature of things. Further, we may say that it is immutable, necessary, imperative ; not employing these terms in the vague, transcendental and incom- prehensible sense usually given to them, but in a precise, positive, and unambiguous sense; for they signify that morality is as stable as nature, and its necessity is that of logic. Thus the idea of evolution, though it looks like empiricism, •leads to unexpected results. If we could dwell upon the point, it would also, doubtless, give us a little better understanding of what is meant by progress in morals. Usually, in treating this subject, it is deemed sufficient to state that morality is immutable in substance, but variable in accidents; which is true, but vague. To hold, on the one hand, that it is wholly subject to change is to deprive it of all stability, of all authority, and to deny what is unquestionable — that morality is inherent in the nature of things. On the other hand, to assert that it is subject to no change is to give the lie to history, to mutilate facts, to give a partial expla- nation for a complete one, to juggle with difficulties instead of resolving them. It is very evident that the moral ideas of the France of to-day do not resemble those of the Franks in the time of the long-haired kings ; and that no bishop of our day would judge the crimes of Clovis as did Gregory of Tours, though he sprang from a saintly family and was himself almost canonized. Unfortunately for us, this investigation has never been made. If the invariable in morals had been clearly discriminated from the variable, the primitive from the acquired, it would be easier to ascertain the influence of heredity, for it can act only on the variable element, which is subject to the law of evolution. Much Moral Consequences of Heredity. 355 has been said about this invariable basis, but very little has been fixed. Without actually attempting to do so here, it is enough to state how the question presents itself to us. In the first place it is evident that if this common basis exists — if there be a certain number of moral truths Serving as a foundation for all the rest, however diverse and complicated, and as a criterion to qualify our own acts and those of others — then this ultimate law must be very general in its character, and consequently very vague. Since, ex hypothesi, it must be found at the root of every moral act, present, past and future, actual or possible, and as consequently it applies to an incalculable number of facts, it can only be ab- stracted by a very elaborate process; and the operation whereby we thus pose it in abslracto is, though it has a certain scientific utility, really artificial. The law is not thus presented to us simply and nakedly ; we always find it as an integral part of a whole. But those ultimate elements which seem to lie at the root of every moral act, and which abstraction isolates, are these : seek your own good — seek the good of others. These formulas may be thus translated : respect yourself— respect others ; but this latter expression is more concrete and consequently less general than the other. These formulas alone appear to us to be ultimate, because they alone are natural ; and they appear natural to us because they are those absolute conditions of existence of which we have already spoken. If this be admitted, we are, perhaps, in a way to draw a suffi- cient line of demarcation between the invariable and the variable in morals. These ultimate precepts represent only a very small part of the acts which we call moral ; they are only one element among many. Every moral act, such as is every moment per- formed among civilized people, may be likened to some very complex compound, to some highly complicated motion, or to some organic product. The moral element proper enters into it as a component part, but it must combine with a great number of other elements to produce the total act. This is the reason why it often escapes our notice. For instance, the act of studying mechanics may seem to bear no relation to the two formulas already stated. On reflection, a true relation will be discovered between them. But as this act is highly complex, prcsupposing 356 Heredity. knowledge previously acquired, a certain mental aptitude, a special mental process, a certain professional or other aim — each of these secondary facts being itself highly complex — the moral element is, as it were, lost amid this great mass of elements, which are integrated in one single fact Hence the element which we have called invariable constitutes only a trifling part of our moral states and moral acts. The variable element consists of that sum of ideas, judgments, ratio- cinations, recollections, passions, sentiments, habits, views often narrow and incomplete, prejudices and errors which vary from century to century, between nation and nation, and between indi- vidual and individual, according to the incessant evolution of the human mind. By taking this point of view we see facts, apparently at total variance one with another, fall under one and the same moral formula, much as the ascent of balloons and the fall of bodies come under the one law of gravitation. If I take in a deserted child, if I care for and educate it, if I spare no pains to train it to good habits, and if thus I succeed in making it an accom- plished man, assuredly every one will say that my conduct is worthy of praise. Now if in thought we go back two centuries, and imagine ourselves in Madrid or Seville at the instant when an auto-da-fe is about to take place, we see the court decked as for a holiday; crowds throng the streets, and there is procession of penitents and monks — the cruel pomp is revolting. Yet these two acts, unlike though they be, are reducible to one and the same moral idea — do good to others ; but in the former instance this idea is applied only to true judgments, while in the latter case it is tangled in a web of false notions, such as an hypothetical belief accepted as certain, a right of coercion wrongfully exerted, etc., which eventually annihilate the moral idea. It may be said that this is to assign a very small part to the moral element properly so called. But the fact is that this in- variable basis is necessarily very restricted, as we have shown. What perfects it — and what varies — is the ideas and judgments that come into association with it Hence we conclude that there is a great deal of truth in the much disputed adage — Omnis pcccans cst ignorans. Moral Consequences cf Heredity. 357 This brings us back to our subject, which we seemed to have forgotten. If it be admitted that the moral act comprises a great number of ideas, judgments and sentiments, as has been already shown by the influence of heredity on the development of sensi- bility and intelligence, then heredity must also exert a great influence on the formation of habits and of moral ideas — moral heredity is only a form of psychical heredity. It will suffice, then, to show briefly how heredity has contributed to insure the moral conditions of the evolution of society. It is generally admitted that primitive societies must have passed through three phases — hunting, pastoral, and agricultural It is only with the latter that civilization begins. In the hunter stage, which is the condition of all existing savages, communities live by the chase, by fishing, and by war. This phase is characterized by the unlimited development of warlike instincts, bloodthirsty appetites, and a wandering, reckless life. Savages, like children, are prone to follow their sensual and turbulent pas- sions. Communities that have been unable to rise out of this state, have either perished or drag out a miserable existence until some superior race shall exterminate them. Such as have been able to submit to the yoke of rude laws, imposed upon them by their sages, have in time acquired less brutal manners and less furious appetites. It is very likely that in this case heredity has acted by accumulation. The earlier generations submitted only with great repugnance to laws which galled them sorely, by restraining their most natural tendencies. Yet they in this way acquired somewhat gentler habits, and these habits, transmitted by heredity, made succeeding generations more ready to obey the law. And thus, amid many exceptions and frequent reversions to primitive appetites (phenomena of atavism), new steps in advance were ever possible, and savage instincts continually diminished. The same is to be said of nomad peoples : for instance, the Tartars and the Mongols. Their manners are less fierce, and their habits more sociable than those of the hunter tribes, but yet their taste for an adventurous life detains them in a low form of civilization. Civilization must be attached to the soil ; it requires a sedentary life, cities, roads, individual property — in short, those fixed elements which are its conditions of existence. The Turks and the Mant 358 Heredity. chus have succeeded, under the influence of laws and of heredity, in losing the nomad instincts of their races, and in adopting the civilization of the peoples they conquered. Others, the Mongols for instance, have shown themselves incapable of this, after their hour of glory under Gengis Khan and Tamerlane. Nations destined for social life have early possessed the art of agriculture, together with all that it implies : division of property, agricultural arts and implements, and care for the future. Here would begin the really difficult and delicate part of our task, and this, for lack of a scientific genesis of moral ideas, we cannot attempt. It would be requisite to show how each progressive step of civilization presupposes new conditions of existence ; how to those very simple conditions of existence which, as we have said, are the groundwork of morals, succeed conditions of existence more and more complex, which have rendered possible every fresh stage in civilization. Then we should have to show the part played by heredity in the adaptation of successive generations to these new conditions. But we can here merely observe that, the primitive state of mankind being characterized by a lawless indi- vidualism, the development of sympathetic tendencies — those called 'altruistic' by the positivist school — becomes more and more necessary in proportion as civilization increases. These tendencies certainly exist, whatever may have been said of them by those who would reduce all our acts to egoism. They are natural, as is proved by psychological analysis. The attempt has even been ingeniously made to demonstrate this physically, by showing that in the lowest grade of the biological scale, where the sexes are not distinct, the individual is restricted to egoistic tendencies alone \ whereas, so soon as the difference of sex appears, it necessarily brings with itself tendencies of a different nature, which go beyond the individual. These gross sympathetic instincts of the lower organisms are developed in proportion with the growth of intelli- gence. There is no doubt that there exist in man natural sympathetic tendencies, which are the germs of those ulterior complex senti- ments which we call patriotism, philanthropy, devotion to a society or an idea. From what has been said in the preceding chapter as to the genesis of these complex ideas and sentiments, we can form Moral Consequences of Heredity. 359 some notion of the part played by heredity in the formation of moral habits, the evolution of morals being really but the evolution of intelligence. Heredity, however, has a reverse side. If by accumulation it aids progress, it at the same time preserves or recalls, in the midst of civilization, sentiments and tendencies that are by no means related to such an environment We have already given instances of this. It is perfectly natural to recognize facts of atavism in those sanguinary instincts, those savage tastes, that insane and objectless passion for wild pursuits, that insatiable desire for adventure, which we find in certain men who are, as it would seem, highly civilized. No doubt there is in these vices such a ground- work of power and greatness that the utter suppression of them would be a weakening of the living forces of humanity; and it is therefore the office of civilization to regulate these instincts, not to destroy them. It utilizes this troubled activity by directing it into wild lands, against unexplored regions. There, beyond the limits of civilization, these men work for civilization. Those of them who remain within her pale, but have the power of adapting them- selves to it, are but a curse to society, for in them primitive humanity reappears, though its natural environment has vanished. Then science verifies what many religions have discerned indis- tinctly, and expressed after their own fashion. It is a belief com- mon to them that man is a fallen creature, and that he bears the stain of an original transgression, which is transmitted by heredity. Science interprets this vague hypothesis. Without inquiring what was the original state of humanity, we may confidently hold it to have been lowly enough. Primitive man, ignorant and idealess, the slave of his appetites and instincts, which were simply the forces of nature freely acting in him, rose but very gradually to the con- ception of the ideal. Art, poetry, science, morality, all those highest manifestations of the human soul, are like some frail and precious plant which has come late into being and been enriched by the long toil of generations. It is as impossible to govern life without the ideal as it is to steer a ship without compass or stars; still the ideal was not revealed to man all at once, but only little by little. Each people has had its own ideal ; each generation has enabled the succeeding generation to aspire towards a more 360 Heredity. perfect ideal, as, in ascending some lofty mountain, we take in a wider horizon as we climb. And during this gradual conquest, in which humanity endeavours to strip off all that is low and base, primitive instincts, which are indeed an original stain, reappear every moment — indelible, though weakened — to remind us, not of a fall, but of the low estate from which we have risen. CHAPTER IV. SOCIAL CONSEQUENCES OF HEREDITY IT would be beside our subject and beyond the measure of our powers to examine here in detail the social consequences of heredity. To trace them through the manners, the legislation, the civil and political institutions, and the modes of govern- ment of various peoples, would require a separate work. Heredity presents itself to us under two forms, one natural, the other institutional. We have studied the former only, even so restricting ourselves to only one of its aspects, its psychological side ; we have but incidentally touched on the ground of physiology, in order to confirm our positions. It will therefore suffice, in order to conclude this work, to show how the institutional heredity derives from natural heredity, and thus to refer the effects to their cause. Every nation possesses at least a vague belief in hereditary transmission. Facts compel it : and indeed it may even be main- tained that in primitive times this belief is stronger than it is under civilization. From this belief springs institutional heredity. It is certain that social and political considerations, or even pre- judices, must have contributed to develop and strengthen it, but it were absurd to suppose that it has been invented. The characters which we have already often recognized in heredity — necessity, conservatism, and stability — are logically found in the institutions which spring from it This a rapid examination of the subject will show. In exhibiting the part of heredity in the institution of the family, of castes, of nobility, of sovereignty> it Social Consequences of Heredity. 361 will be our special study to throw light upon a point which, in our eyes, is of great philosophical importance — namely, the con- flict of heredity and free-will The family is a natural fact. Numerous works both in France and abroad show this, and have related the history of the family, described its various forms, and arranged the moral relations which subsist between its members. But with this we have here no concern. From the stand-point of heredity — too generally overlooked by moralists — it may be said that all forms of the family are reducible to two principal and opposite types, around which oscillate a great number of intermediate forms. The one allows a very large part to heredity, and a very small part to individual free-will. The other allows a very large part to individual free-will, but regards hereditary transmission as the exception, not the law. The former is the rule of strict conservatism ; the latter the rule of testa- mentary liberty. If we examine the first of these types, we find it under various forms in all primitive civilizations, and it rests on a very firm faith in heredity. The child is regarded as the direct continuation of the parents ; and indeed, properly speaking, between father and son, between mother and daughter, there is no distinction of persons — there is only one person under a two-fold appearance. If this idea be applied to the entire series of generations, we find the case to be thus : — in the first place is a family chief, a mys- terious and revered being, usually ranked with the gods ; then a succession of generations, each represented by the first-born son, who is the visible incarnation of the first father, and whose part is essentially conservative. He collects together the religious beliefs, the traditions and the possessions of the family, and transmits them in turn. He may not alienate anything or destroy anything. He can alter nothing in the invariable order of succession which wraps him round in its fatality. Under such a regime, individual tree-will counts ior little, while heredity is supreme. This is a pantheistic organization of the family; heredity being the in- 362 Heredity. variable and indestructible ground whereon the ephemeral shadow of the individuals is thrown, and over which it flits. In all primitive civilizations, the family came more or less near to this type wherein heredity is everything and free-will nothing.1 Among the Hindus, Greeks, Romans, and Aryan peoples in general, the family was a natural community, having not only the same possessions, the same interests, the same traditions, but the same gods and the same rites. Religion was domestic, and hence Plato defines relationship to be ' a community of domestic gods.' These gods were of course worshipped by their own family, in their own sanctuary, and on an altar whereon the sacred fire was ever burning. No stranger could offer sacrifice to them without sacrilege. To this necessary heredity of rites, which it was of obligation to maintain, was added the heredity of property. Originally among the Hindus, property was inalienable. In many Greek cities ancient laws forbad the citizen to sell his plot of land.2 In Greece and in India succession was from male to male in order of primo- geniture, and only at a late period in history was any share allowed to the younger sons, or to the daughters. It is probable that primitive Rome in like manner accepted the law of primogeniture. It is equally instructive to notice that testaments were intro- duced at a late period, at the time when the state and the fafnily had broken away from the immobility of inheritance, in order to give freer play to individual action. Thus, according to Fustel de Coulanges, ancient Hindu law knew nothing of testaments. The same is to be said of Athenian law prior to Solon. At Sparta testaments do not appear till after the Peloponnesian war ; and at Rome they do not seem to have been in use before the law of the Twelve Tables. This allows to them the force of law : Uti e^assil (paterfamilias) super pecunia tutelave sua rei, ita jus esto. The rule which subordinates the individual to heredity, by making the conservation of property obligatory, exists in a more or less perfect form in the great families of Sweden, Norway, Denmark, and Scotland ; also over a large portion of Germany, 1 On this subject see Fustel de Coulanges, Le CU6 Antique, and Le Play, La Keforme Sociale, ch. ii. 1 Aristotle, Politics, ii. 4. Social Consequences of Heredity. 363 particularly in Hanover, Brunswick, Mecklenburg, and Bavaria. In Russia, among the nomad tribes of the Ural, the Caspian, the lower Volga, and the Don, with the exception of personal pro- perty— limited to clothing — everything is possessed by the com- munity, and the heads of families cannot alienate anything. At the other extremity we find the opposite type of testamen- tary liberty, where the individual, instead of being the slave of heredity, is its absolute master, and may at will establish, restrict, suspend, or do away with it Here the freest play is accorded to free-will, and heredity, in place of being the rule, becomes the exception. Thus it is not surprising that this rule, unknown to primitive peoples, is propagated and extended in proportion as we depart from nature and her fatalistic laws. It is found in its most perfect form in the United States of America, and under a restricted form in England, in various German States, and in Italy. As we have seen, it made its appearance at an early period in ancient Rome. We need not here inquire whether testamentary discretion has drawbacks. It is certain that if in France legislation is adverse to it, the reason is lest it should be abused ; and when we observe the evident tendency of those who demand it to go back to the ancien regime, we can but believe that it would there be attended by disastrous consequences. It is with testamentary as with all other liberty — in order to possess it a man must be worthy, and know how to use it. It will be observed that the two opposite rules of which we have spoken imply two different views of property; the one in which property exists completely, the other in which it hardly exists at all. Under the rule of testamentary discretion, owner- ship is absolute and without limit; property forms part of the individual, who disposes of it as of himself. Under the rule of obligatory conservation, ownership is reduced to usufruct. And since under the first arrangement heredity has no place in right, since it emanates wholly from free-will, and as under the second it always exists in right and in fact, being the law, we are again face to face with the same antinomy; and we may conclude that in the organization of the family there has ever existed an inverse proportion between the power of heredity and that of free-will. 364 Heredity. IL The family is the molecule of the social world. So soon as it is constituted society may take its rise. Families unite, associate together, amalgamate, and are perpetuated by thus commingling: the body social is the result of this fusion. After it has passed out of its embryonic phase — the hunter and the nomad states — and when the first forms of civilized life are beginning to be produced, then heredity appears as a social and political element in the institution of caste. Caste is the result of various causes — difference of race, con- quest, religious creeds — but everywhere its groundwork is the belief in heredity. Caste is exclusive : there is no entrance into it except by birth ; no art, no merit, no violence avail to bursr open the doors of caste ; it reigns supreme over the destinies of the individual. Here we find heredity invested with its constant characteristics, viz., conservatism and stability. Nothing is more stagnant than nations that have accepted caste. In India we find the ideal of this arrangement, for nowhere else is it more firmly grounded, more compactly constituted, or more minutely regulated. Moral heredity, its natural basis, is explicitly recognized in the sacred laws of Manu. ' A woman always brings into the world a son gifted with the same qualities as he who begat him.' ' We may know by his acts the man that belongs to a low class, or who is born of a disreputable mother.' ' A man of low birth has the evil dispositions of his father, or of his mother, or of both — he never can hide his descent.' l Hindu law, as all are aware, admits four original castes : the Brahman, born from the mouth of Brahma; the Kshatriya, sprung from his arm ; the Vaishya, from his thigh, and Sudr from his feet ' The priestly, the military, and the commercial castes are all regenerate ; the fourth, or servile caste, has only one birth.8 There is no fifth caste.' 1 Manava Darma Shastra, book x. ' Ibid, book x. ch. iv. According to the Hindu creed, to attain to supreme felicity (Nirvana), one must be born again successively into the noble castes, in- cluding that of the Brahmans. The latter complacently tell of a devout king Social Consequences of Heredity. 365 The Brahman has for his inheritance science, contemplation, the meditation of the mysteries, the care for divine worship, and the reading of the sacred books. He is recognized by his staff, by the cord he wears over his shoulder, by the girdle around his loins, but still more by his complexion, which differs from that of the other castes ; for as travellers tell us, a Brahman who' is a some- what black, and a Pariah a somewhat white, are regarded as mon- strosities, and in no other caste are there handsomer women or prettier children. The Kshatriya is destined for active life, he is soldier or king ; but he owes submission to the lord of all castes, the Brahman, a duty which he has not always discharged. The Vaishyas practise the manual arts, agriculture and com- merce; they support the priest and the noble, who pray for them or fight for them. In the lowest grade, the only virtue of the Sudr is resignation. Devoted to servile labour, and treated with contumely, he knows no life but that of privations, but he has a faint glimpse of salva- tion in the distant future. Thus each has his place, his environment, to which he is im- prisoned by his birth. He may not aspire higher, neither may he marry outside his own caste. The time, however, had to come when these four primitive divisions would no longer suffice. Though the law proscribes and anathematizes extra-caste marriage, still passion and the chances of life were necessarily stronger than the law; hence, besides the four pure castes, others have arisen, and these the laws of Manu, while pronouncing them impure, still condescends to regulate. It would be tedious to enumerate these hybrid classes ; for as was to be expected, the development of insti- tutions and the progress of civilization have produced an endless variety of crossings. Thus, half a century ago there were no less than four classes, subdivided into twenty others — and this simply among the Brahmans of the south. Among the Sudr there are about a hundred and twenty, which may be reduced to eighteen who aspired to the Nirvana, but who, like any other person, had to obey his law, and to give up the practice of the austerities by means of which he was striving to obtain the miracle of a transformation impossible in the case of a Kshatriya. 366 Heredity. principal classes. But, as Prosper Lucas observes, ' these non- race classes — all alike excluded from the sacrifices, and destined to exercise the vilest functions — have no more value in the eyes of Hindus than horses, cattle or dogs without pedigree would have in the eyes of an Arab, a farmer, or a huntsman.' In all these subdivisions the only point which interests us is the part assigned to psychological heredity. It is very considerable indeed. According to Hindu belief, the father's influence pre- ponderates in the procreation of the children ; hence a marriage beyond caste on the part of the mothers is looked on as far more criminal than that of the fathers. When a Brahman woman marries a Sudr, the chandal (or cross-breed) born of their union ' is the most infamous of men.' It is curious to observe that the law rests on heredity in assign- ing appropriate occupations to the impure castes. While admit- ting the preponderance of the father over the mother, it looks on the cross-breed as deriving from both. Thus, a child born of a Brahman and a Vaishya woman will practise medicine, a profession the practice of which is in one respect a liberal pursuit, while in another respect it approaches the manual arts. The son of a Kshatriya and a Brahman woman, will be at the same time a horseman, in reference to the warrior habits of his father, and a bard or singer like the Brahmans. The sons of a Kshatriya and a Sudr woman, will be hunters like their fathers, but their game will be serpents and animals that dwell in caves. It is plain that this legislation has been skilfully elaborated and deduced from a single principle — heredity. Nowhere else is the institution of caste so firmly grounded or so complete. It is, how- ever, found in a less perfect form under all primitive civilizations — among the Assyrians, the Persians, and the Egyptians, who reckoned seven classes according to Herodotus, five according to Diodorus Siculus. It was found by the Spaniards in Peru ; in grades above the commonalty were the Curucas and the Incas. The latter, whose skulls, according to Morton (Crania Americana ), 'give evidence of a decided intellectual pre-eminence over the other races of the country,' constituted the high nobility. We may even say that universally, in all nations who have risen above barbarism, we find, if not castes, at least classes, which con- Social Consequences of Heredity. 367 stitute the mitigated form of caste. The class is not as exclusive as the caste. Though birth and heredity are its groundwork, and though it is natural to a privileged order that it should close its ranks against the new-comer, entrance is still possible ; merit, energy, sometimes even chance, are strong enough to break down the barriers. History, moreover shows that class assumes every pos- sible form, being sometimes inviolable, like caste, anon reduced to very slight differences for the sake of distinction. The political institution of classes is found among the Greeks, the Romans, and Germanic nations. Perhaps even we may dis- cover in the beginnings of their history some vestiges of caste. In Rome, at least, the distinction between patrician and plebeian was very sharply drawn at first, and among the Germans between the freeman and the slave. Indeed the institution of slavery, which was universal in ancient times, formed among all peoples at least two classes, based on heredity, and brought about the fact that all ancient communities, even the so-called democracies, were in reality aristocracies. We may compare with castes and classes hereditary professions, which are but the same thing under another form. It is even probable, as Lucas says, ' that the heredity of professions is the primitive type, the elementary form of all institutions based on the heredity of the moral nature. Capacities are at first distributed naturally ; man follows his instincts, no less than the animal, the family no less than the species. Practice produces habit, habit produces art, and acquaintance with an art gives an interest in it : nature and education concentrate more and more a given art in a certain family, the common belief regards the art as belonging to that family; in course of time come institutions, religions, conquests, which, in the place of a fact, traditional but free, substitute an obligation, and in place of the spontaneous will of the father, or the instinctive dispositions of the child, set up the will of the law, the conqueror, or the priest.' Here no doubt we must assign a large measure of influence to education, to external agencies — heredity is not all, yet it is much. If any one doubt this, let him remark how in ancient times certain professions of a purely moral nature, which necessarily presuppose definite psychological conditions, were hereditary, and he will see 368 Heredity. that this heredity cannot be altogether explained by external causes, by family traditions, or by secrets kept and transmitted. Thus in Grecian antiquity medicine was originally cultivated by a few families. The Asclepiadse, or family of ^Esculapius, called themselves the descendants of that god. They practised their art in the Asclepia, and founded the schools of Cnidos, of Rhodes, and of Cos — Hippocrates was the seventeenth physician in his family. The art of divination, the gift of prophecy, that high favour of the gods, was by the Greeks supposed to descend generally from father to son. This belief prevailed in Homeric times : Calchas was descended from a family of soothsayers. The heredity of priesthood is found among many peoples who have not known caste distinctions. It is seen in Mexico, in Judaea, where the tribe of Judah alone supplied the priests, and even in Greece. In the latter Country, where the religion was essentially local, and each city had its own gods, we find in most of the towns some sacerdotal family — at Delphi, the Deucalionidae and Bran- chidse ; at Athens, the Eumolpidae, and so on. The conclusion to be drawn from all this is plain, that heredity is a law of nature from which a people frees itself in proportion as it grows in civilization. If we take one after another all the primi- tive civilizations, India, Persia, Egypt, Assyria, Judaea, Peru, Mexico, Greece and Rome, we shall often find in their earliest period the institution of caste, and of hereditary professions, and always that of classes. If, on the other hand, we notice how among very highly civilized nations — that is to say, those as far removed as possible from nature — the institution of caste and of hereditary professions is quite impracticable, and how even classes have dis- appeared; if we observe the advance toward liberty more and more marked through the transformation of castes into classes, and the abolition of classes, as also by the change from the heredity of professions to corporations and to freedom of occupation; if, furthermore, we remark how the influence of heredity is at first held to be absolute (caste), then relative (class), finally, though perhaps wrongly, as somewhat weak (the present period), we cannot but admit that these facts disclose to us a curious antagonism between heredity and free-will Social Consequences of Heredity. 369 Heredity is a law of living nature, a biological law of destiny and necessity, like physical laws — a principle of conservatism and stability. Hence it is that so soon as civilizations have attained any growth, in accordance with the law of progress, of which varia- tion is the essence, there arises a struggle between these two principles, and then either progress must overthrow caste, as in Greece, or caste hinder progress, as in India. From this antagonism between heredity and free-will flow some weighty consequences. We will state these in the conclusion of this work, when we shall be able to generalize the facts more fully. We will now examine the relations between heredity and nobility. in. Nobility, whether we accept or reject it, has its natural causes. It is the result of the original inequality of talents and characters. History shows that though it has assumed various shapes, in different countries and at different periods, it has always and everywhere rested on a conscious and intentional selection, con- solidated in an institution; this, at least, is what it has wished to be. With the exception of China, where nobility is conferred on principles the very reverse of those prevailing elsewhere,1 we find this distinction always based on heredity. In the ancient east (India, Persia, Egypt, Assyria, etc.) where the rule of castes pre- vailed, we do not find nobility in the modern sense of the word — for though nobility is often called a caste, the two things are in reality incompatible. Nobility is impossible either in a community so simple as to be included in three or four divisions, or in a very mixed, very active community, such as that of the United States. But the social state of the east resembled the symbolic ladder of the worship of Mithra, each of the seven degrees of which was of a particular metal and answered to a special initiation into the infinite mysteries of the universe. Each man was born in his own degree, of iron or silver, lead or gold, as the case might be, and 1 In China, when the sovereign confers a title of nobility on a subject, that title ennobles the ascendants, while the descendants remain commoners. This anomaly is explained by the great importance attached by the Chinaman to the cultus of his ancestors ; indeed, he scarcely knows any other religion than this. 3 ;o Heredity. there he must remain : the caste absorbed the individual. The westerns lengthened out this over-short ladder, and increased the number of degrees, and \ve might even say that in many countries this process has neutralized itself. Between these two extremes — the seven-stepped ladder on the one hand, and on the other the almost inappreciable gradient of modern times — stands the true period of nobility, Rome and mediaeval Germany. The great families which were to be perpetuated for cen- turies by heredity arose in many ways, of which history alone can give the full details. Some conquering race, inferior in numbers, superior in force, often formed a privileged class, and held the vanquished down — such were the Normans in England, the Incas in Peru, the Franks in Gaul. The latter were the only nation that possessed the ' terre salique,' ' alleu ' or ' franc-alleu ' — hereditary domain, which became later the fief. They were ennobled by the very fact of conquest. Oftener, nobility was conferred by the prince, in recompense for some brilliant action. There were also certain charges and functions that gave nobility, and even some kinds of commerce. Nobility was either transmissible or intrans- missible, personal or territorial, of the gown or of the sword; in short, there were so many denominations, varieties, distinctions, and categories, that an author in the last century who tries to classify them reckons more than sixty. But whatever its origin, nobility was always hereditary. This is its first law. It must perpetuate itself from its own resources; it must have a past history, and must preserve its memories and its traditions. In the state it represents stability. This character of continuousness and permanence, which is the essence of heredity, is also the essence of nobility. It has therefore always been careful to keep itself pure; this is its first duty. ' Nobility,' says the Comte de Boulainvilliers, ' is a natural privilege, incommunicable by any way other than that of birth.' There is no greater stain on cha- racter than to act in a manner derogatory to birth. To derogate from nobility is to deny ancestry and to ruin descendants ; it is to break the golden chain and to let them fall down below the commonalty, into a category apart — to make them outcasts, for whom society has neither name nor place. Hence those genea- logical trees, so carefully drawn and blazoned, extending back* Social Consequences of Heredity. 371 wards through the a^es. Hence anxiety about alliances, always an important matter, not only for the German baron, who required in his wife six quarterings of nobility, but also of the Inca, who married his sister in order to perpetuate the race of the Sun. * Nobility,' says Dr. Lucas, ' in the primitive vigour of its insti- tution, made it a point of honour not to mingle its blood with the blood of other classes. In its minor alliances it scrutinized as minutely the purity of pedigree as the Arabs in Africa, or the members of jockey clubs in our day, with their eyes on the French or English stud books, scrutinize the pedigree of their horses.' To us it appears clear and unquestionable that nobility is every- where founded on the idea of heredity. The first step towards its institution is the hypothesis, distinctly expressed by some, indis- tinctly perceived by others, that all kinds of worth are transmissible; that a man inherits from his ancestors courage, regard for honour, loyalty, no less than lofty stature, robust health, and strong arms. Bon sang ne pent mentir — Blood must tell. Our old feudal poems delight to represent cowards and felons as bastards, unworthy scions of a great race that have soiled their blood. The brave spring from the brave, and love to proclaim their genealogy.1 Hence an illustrious writer of our day attributes to the belief in heredity a far too unimportant part when he says : ' The true idea of nobility is that it originates in merit, and as it is clear that merit is not hereditary, it is easily shown that hereditary nobility is an absurdity. But this is the universal French mistake of a distribu- tive justice, with the state holding the balance. The social reason of nobility, regarded as an institution of public utility, was not to recompense merit, but to call forth, and render possible and even easy, certain kinds of merit.' 2 The author's stand-point is no doubt somewhat different from our own, since he considers more par- ticularly the utility of nobility as an institution, not its legitimacy as a consequence; but we still hold that belief in the heredity of merit is the groundwork of nobility, and that, like every belief that is living and unshakable, it has survived all the attacks, criticisms, and reverses it has sustained from experience. In our view 1 See Homer's poems, which have so much analogy with our feudal world. 8 Renan, La Monarchie Conslilntionelle en France, p. 25. 372 Heredity. nobility is the result of two factors — the idea, whether true or false, of a certain merit above the common, and the opinion that this merit is transmissible. Undoubtedly, from the altogether ideal point of view, the institution of nobility may be considered an excellent one. To choose only the best; to keep intact the selections made, and from the cradle to fashion them by tradition, precept, and example; to care for them as we care for a choice and rare hot- house plant embedded in rich mould — to do this would be to prac- tise strict selection, with education added. But this is only a dream, as may be easily shown. First, as regards its origin ; nobility, while assuming to be a select class, has never been any such thing, save in a very restricted sense — that it fostered the warlike virtues. It had everywhere its rise in that period of the youth of nations when the imagination had no other ideal than the hero, no other cult than hero-worship, where the only virtue is honour, the only trade, war. Later, in more advanced ages, it was seen that the pacific virtues have also a nobility of their own — that an artist, a man of science, an in- ventor, belong also to the chosen class ; but, apart from the nobility of the law, that aristocracy which it was attempted to establish under the title of 'literary nobility,' or 'spiritual nobility,' was never in any way to be compared with the warrior aristocracy — perhaps because it was soon perceived that genius is not so easily transmitted as courage. Hence, the selection which served as a basis for nobility was both very incomplete in principle and often very unsuccessful in fact. The only aristocracy that has practised this selection on a very liberal scale, while it has, in the words of Macaulay, become ' the most democratic aristocracy in the world,' is at the same time the only one in the wprld that has continued to be both powerful and respected.1 If selection is open to question, the dogma of hereditary trans- mission is no more stable. We have seen that heredity is a law of animated nature ; that under purely ideal conditions it would lead to the continuous repetition of the same types, the same forms, the same properties, the same faculties ; but in that most 1 In the House of Lords, of the four hundred and twenty-seven lay peerages only forty-one are of date prior to the seventeenth century. Social Consequences of Heredity. 373 complex elaboration whence results the living being, so many laws are superimposed on one another, intersect one another, strengthen and neutralize one another; so many accidental facts intervene, often so as to confuse and destroy the whole, that the resemblance of children to parents is never more than approxima- tive. Experience alone can decide whether this is sufficient or insufficient, whether the law has been stronger than t.he exceptions, or the exceptions than the law. But to submit nobility to the control of experience and to discuss its title at each accession by birth, would amount in fact to its suppression. But even if we admit that the law is stronger than the exceptions, and that the physical and moral qualities of the ancestors are transmitted to the descendants, there remains nevertheless another shoal on which the institution of nobility must wreck itself — the enfeeble- ment produced by heredity. ' The citizens of the ancient republics,' says Littre', ' were never able to maintain themselves by reproduction. The nine thousand Spartans of Lycurgus's time were reduced to nineteen hundred in the time of Aristotle. The people of Athens were often com- pelled to recruit their numbers by the admission of foreigners. Nor has the course of things been different in modern times. All aristocracies, all close corporations that fill up their ranks solely from among themselves, have suffered gradual losses which would have caused a certain reduction were it not for the additions made from time to time. There is not in Europe a single national nobility the majority of which dates from considerable antiquity.'1 Benoiston de Chateauneuf, in a curious Memoire statistique snr la dttree des families nobles en France, shows that the average duration is not more than three hundred years. He finds the causes of this in primogeniture, consanguineous marriages, and, above all, war and duelling. We must, however, believe that the fact is regulated by more general causes, for the same author admits that his researches into the extinction of mer- cantile families and those of the lower classes have led to the same results. Of four hundred and eighty-seven families admitted into the citizenship of Berne between the years 1583 and 1654, 1 De la Philosophie Positive, 1845. 374 Heredity. less than half (two hundred and seven) remained at the end of a century, and in 1783 there remained only one hundred and sixty- eight, or one-third. Of the hundred and twelve families con- stituting the federal council of the canton of Berne in 1653, there remained, in the year 1796, only fifty-eight.1 ' The degeneration of the race in noble families/ says Moreau of Tours, ' has been noted by sundry writers. Pope remarked that the noble air which the English aristocracy ought to have worn was the one thing they did not at all possess ; that it was a saying in Spain that when a grandee was announced in a drawing- room you must expect to see a sort of abortion; finally, in France, any one who saw the men that constituted the higher ranks might suppose that he was in presence of a company of invalids. The Marquis de Mirabeau himself, in his Ami des ffommes, speaks of them as pygmies, or withered and starved plants.' We have already endeavoured to determine the causes of this physical and mental degeneration, by showing that heredity is a force ever contending against opposite forces, that it has its own struggle for life, and that in each generation, even when victorious, it comes out of the contest much weakened by its losses. We have now seen the difficulties which criticism based on ex- perience might bring against nobility considered as a natural fact We need not here inquire into its value as an institution. It is certain that its influence has not been always evil, and that it has indeed 'called forth certain kinds of merit' But such is the condition of human affairs that we must overlook much evil where a little good is done. Man is so small, that in order to become great he must cease to be himself — he must be blotted out, sacri- ficed in the interest of an idea, a caste, a corporation, a country, a lineage which he shall represent Thrown into the infinity of time, like a waif on the boundless ocean, he seeks some stay for a longer, less ephemeral, and yet perishable life. This is presented to him by nobility. Who can tell how many vulgar souls have been upheld and uplifted by the thought of their ancestry ! Many a man, as he has contemplated in some vast and silent hall the portraits of his forefathers, unimpassioned witnesses of his 1 Memoire de VAcadeinie des Sciences Morales, vol. v. Social Consequences of Heredity. 375 deeds, must have felt the heroic breath of those distant ages, whose extinct thoughts become conscious in him; he has been possessed with the instincts of his race, and, strengthened beyond the measure of his own lowliness, he has been uplifted to their height Those communities which have accepted the heredity of virtues and of merit, and who have seen fit to consecrate this belief by the official institution of nobility must of course have also ac- cepted the heredity of vices and of criminal tendencies. Hence we have races that are accursed, unclean castes, proscribed families, and the crimes of the father visited on the children and the grandchildren. History teaches that the further we go back into antiquity the more widespread is this belief, and the more numerous are the institutions and laws that give expression to it In China,1 when a man has committed a capital crime, a minute inquiry is first made into his physical condition, his temperament, his mental complexion, his prior acts ; nor does the investigation stop at the individual — it is concerned with the most inconsiderable antecedents of the members of his family, and is even carried back to his ancestry. This is in our view to do full justice to heredity. But in the case of high treason, or when a prince is assassinated, this same people, establishing an unfair solidarity between father and children, prescribe 'that the culprit shall be cut up into ten thousand pieces, and that his sons and grandsons shall be put to death.' The Japanese laws, it is said, include in the punish- ment the parents of the culprit The infliction on the children of the punishment due to the parents is very common under the Mosaic law. The whole human race inherit Adam's guilt, and suffer the penalty of the original sin. In the Middle Ages the Jews, an object of loathing, restricted within their Ghetti, feared and at the same time despised by all, paid the penalty of their forefathers' guilt — the unheard of, the unique crime of having killed a god. This is the most striking instance afforded by history of a brand of reprobation and infamy hereditarily transmitted. The barbarous codes that sprung from 1 Gazette des Trilmnaux, 31 Dtcembre, 1844. 17 3 76 Heredity. Germanic customs likewise accepted the heredity of guilt and punishment, and decreed a general proscription. It is astonishing to find this doctrine clearly expounded and reasoned out by a respectable and judicious Greek writer, born in very enlightened times. Plutarch, in his essay on the Delays of Divine Justice, after a very strong argument showing that the family and the state form a true organism, declares that ' the fact that divine vengeance falls upon a state or a city long after the death of the guilty, has nothing in it that is contrary to reason. ' But if this is the case with the state, it must also hold good of a family sprung from a common stock, from which it derives a certain hidden force, a sort of communion of species and of quali- ties, that extends to all the individuals in the line of descent 'Beings produced by generation are not like the products of art What is generated comes from the very substance of the being that gendered it, so that it derives from the latter something that is most justly rewarded or punished on his account, inasmuch as this something is his very self. ' The children of vicious and wicked men are derived from the very essence of their fathers. That which was fundamental in the latter, which lived and was nurtured, which thought and spake, is precisely what they have given to their sons. It must not, there- fore, seem strange or difficult to believe that there exists between the being which begets and the being begotten a sort of occult identity, capable of justly subjecting the second to all the conse- quences attending on the acts of the first' If we put in practice these conclusions of Plutarch we arrive at frightful consequences. To sum up, we have found a perfect correspondence existing between effect and cause. Nobility is, like heredity, a conserva- tive, permanent force that tends to immobility. But both are restricted within limits determinable only by experience. The institutions of modern nations appear more and more to accept this result, and to disregard all heredity save that which verifies itself. Bentham, we think, expressed a growing opinion when he said to the Americans : ' Beware of an hereditary nobility. The patrimony of merit soon comes to be one of birth. Bestow honour, erect statues, confer titles; but let these distinctions be per- Social Consequences of Heredity. 377 sonal. Preserve all the force and all the purity of honours in the state, and never part with this precious capital in favour of any proud class that would quickly turn their advantages against you.' IV. There still remain a few words to be said on the relations of natural and institutional heredity, with regard to sovereignty. Here again we find the same contrast between heredity and liberty, and between the belief of ancient times and the opinion of the modern world. Originally, sovereignty concentrated in the hands of one man, the king, was absolute. Being supreme head, he was regarded as of a nature high above all other men, and as the peer of the gods. ' The earliest traditions represent rulers as gods or demigods. By their subjects, primitive kings were regarded as superhuman in origin, and superhuman in power. They possessed divine titles, received obeisances like those made before the altars of deities, ond were in some cases actually worshipped. If there needs proof that the divine and half-divine characters originally ascribed to monarchs were ascribed literally, we have it in the fact that there are still existing savage races among whom it is held that the chiefs and their kindred are of celestial origin, or, as elsewhere, that only the chiefs have souls.' 1 At a later period it was deemed sufficient to regard kings as of divine race, descended from gods. Such were the Incas of Peru. This opinion still holds in the east, and notably in China. It is easy to see that so long as this belief existed, heredity must have been the ground on which the sovereign power rested. Sovereignty being divine in its origin could only be transmitted by birth. Hence the important part played by hereditary transmis- sion in the history of royal houses, traces of which are still found in the theory of divine right Modern ideas of the principle of sovereignty are the very oppo- site of this doctrine. The dogma of the national will having displaced the dogma of the royal will, the idea of a necessary transmission of the sovereignty by way of primogeniture is now 1 ! Icrbert Spencer, first Principles, § 2. 378 Heredity. thought mere nonsense. The consequence is that all civilized peoples either have abolished hereditary power — as is the case in republics ; or only admit it as a part of the machinery of govern- ment— as is the case in parliamentary monarchies. And in this latter case the thing accepted is not the permanence of inherit- ance, but the usefulness of machinery. The question of heredity as a political institution has been fully discussed. Its partisans and its opponents have never been able to agree, for the simple reason that they have never looked at it from the same side. It is very easy to attack heredity as a natural fact, and it is very easy to defend heredity as an institution. Facts prove, say its opponents, that neither genius, nor talent, nor even uprightness and rectitude are hereditary; why then allow power to fall into unworthy hands ? Besides, this sovereignty by right of birth tends to make princes proud, indolent, ignorant, and incapable. They might have added that, as we have seen, it is proved by facts that even among the most highly-gifted races heredity tends to enfeeblement, and that in the struggle for life, and while battling with difficulties, it crumbles away, so to speak, in its course. We must also bear in mind what has already been said concerning the extinction of noble and royal families, their ascending movement towards their apogee, and their subsequent inevitable decay. Its partisans make answer : Though mind may not be trans- mitted, traditions are, and this is a sufficient social result The object of heredity is to introduce into the state an element of conservatism and stability. Without it, talents, time, and strength are wasted, simply in winning place ; with the aid of institutional heredity, a man is placed at once in the rank he deserves. Take the case of the Earl of Chatham, a simple cornet in a regiment, and the son of a widow who had but a very scanty income : he attained to power only at the age of forty-eight But his son, the illustrious Pitt, had the advantage of a very careful education, and was considered a prodigy at the age of twelve. He entered Par- liament as early as the law allowed, when he spoke gained the ear of the house, and at twenty-three became Prime Minister. This is the history of every great family, and this perpetuation of honours is of advantage as well to the state as to the individual Social Conseqitences of Heredity. 379 Without discussing these opinions, we may say that in fact heredity, considered as a political institution, is tending to dis- appear. The idea of a right of sovereignty transmitted by birth finds but few adherents now, and it is commonly maintained only on the ground of utility. The same is to be said of that conserva- tive body found in nearly every state under various names — such as House of Lords, of Seigneurs, or of Peers, Senate, etc. Inherit- ance, which was its original groundwork, has been abolished nearly everywhere. The English House of Lords, which is justly held to be utterly at variance in this respect with modern tendencies, does nevertheless admit elective members. Thus Scotland is represented by sixteen elective peers, and Ireland by twenty-eight. In proportion, then, as we recede from primitive times, the politi- cal importance of heredity grows less. And if we hold, with the majority of thinkers, that the ideal towards which society must tend is the establishment of a political rule wherein the individual shall possess the largest possible liberty, and the government the least possible measure of power; where the liberty of each shall be limited only by a like measure accorded to all — the only duty of government being to enforce respect for this limitation — in such a government the heredity of power would have no meaning, the sovereignty being reduced to police duty. Here again we en- counter the same antinomy — the maximum of free-will coinciding with the maximum of heredity. We will close with a few remarks on the whole question of the consequences of heredity. All progress, or, to speak more precisely, all development, pre- supposes evolution and heredity. Without the former there is no change; without the latter there is no fixity. But the action of heredity has its limits. As we have seen in the physiological introduction, deviations tend to disappear, and after a few genera- tions the reversion to the primitive type is complete. In the moral order there are facts of the same nature — as, reversion to the savage life and to nomadic instincts, and the descent of certain highly- gifted families to the average level. The opposition between these two kinds of facts, and the con- tradiction in saying on the one hand that heredity produces departure from the original type, and on the other hand it leads 380 Heredity, back to it, is only apparent Reversion takes place when the race is left to itself. It does not occur in a race which, by the long- continued action of natural or artificial instrumentalities, has been adapted to its new surroundings. For every being, physical or moral, the condition of existence is a harmony between itself and its moral or physical surroundings. For every being the essential characteristics are those which are entirely in accord with its circumstances ; accidental characteristics are those which are more or less so. Consequently the former are stable, as being sustained from within and from without ; the latter are unstable, because, though sustained from within, they are opposed, or at least not sustained, from without Reversion to the physical or mental type is therefore the result of natural laws, and by no means of a mysterious power or occult influence. But if the natural or artificial surroundings favour the fixity of the acquired character, and make it a habit — for heredity is only a specific habit — it then becomes a second nature, which is so firmly grounded in the original nature that it cannot be distinguished from it Heredity, which seemed divided against itself, comes into agreement with itself, and two cases apparently contradictory fall under one law. Other characteristics, however, cannot be fixed, and they appear but for a moment If this be understood, it is interesting to see how a contemporary philosopher infers from the two laws of heredity and of evolution the future progress of the human race. At the conclusion of his Principles of Biology, Mr. Herbert Spencer ingeniously shows that, in virtue of natural laws, civilization, the cause of which has been an excess of population, must result in a diminution of population. These considerations are so closely bound up with the consequences of psychological heredity that we shall be pardoned if we state them here in detail. As the perfectness of a being consists in its more and more complete adaptation to its environment, it is logical to infer that all the progress of humanity will consist in an adjustment of this kind. But by what means, and by the development of what faculties ? ' Will it be by the development of physical strength ? Probably not to any considerable degree. Mechanical appliances are fast Social Consequences of Heredity. 381 supplanting brute force, and the progress of social life has but little influence on bodily vigour. * Will it be by the development of swiftness or agility ? Probably not In the savages they are important elements of the ability to maintain life ; but in the civilized man they aid self-preservation in quite a minor degree, and there seems no circumstance likely to necessitate an increase of them. ' Will it be by development of mechanical skill ? Most likely in some degree. Awkwardness is continually entailing injuries and deaths. Moreover, the complicated tools which civilization brings into use are constantly requiring greater delicacy of manipulation. All the arts, industrial and aesthetic, as they develop, imply a corresponding development of perceptive and executive faculties in men — the two necessarily act and react * Will it be by development of intelligence ? Largely no doubt. There is ample room for advance in this direction, and ample demand for it Our lives are universally shortened by our igno- rance. In attaining complete knowledge of our own natures, and of the natures of surrounding things, we shall better understand tiie conditions of existence to which we must conform. ' Will it be by the development of morality, by a greater power of self-regulation ? Largely so : perhaps most largely. Right conduct is usually come short of more from defect of will than defect of knowledge. To the due co-ordination of those complex actions which constitute human life in its civilized form, there goes not only the pre-requisite — recognition of the proper course; but the further pre-requisite — a due impulse to pursue that course. A further development of those feelings which civilization is develop- ing in us must be acquired before the crimes, excesses, diseases, improvidences, dishonesties, and cruelties, that now so greatly diminish the duration of life, can cease. ' No more in the case of man than in the case of any other being, can we presume that evolution has taken place, or will here- after take place, spontaneously. In the past, at present, and in the future, all modifications, functional and organic, have been, aie and must be immediately or remotely consequent on surrounding conditions. What, then, are those changes in the environment to which, by direct or indirect equilibration, the human organism has 382 Heredity. been adjusting itself, is adjusting itself now, and will continue tc adjust itself ? And how do they necessitate a higher evolution ol the organism ? ' Civilization, everywhere having for its antecedent the increase of population, and everywhere having for one of its consequences a decrease of certain race-destroying forces, has for a further con- sequence an increase of certain other race-destroying forces. Danger of death from predatory animals lessens as men grow more numerous. Though, as they spread over the earth and divide into tribes, men become wild beasts to one another, yet the danger of death from this cause also diminishes as tribes coalesce into nations. But the danger of death which does not diminish, is that produced by augmentation of numbers itself — the danger from deficiency of food. Manifestly, the wants of their redundant numbers constitute the only stimulus mankind have to obtain more necessaries of life ; were not the demand beyond the supply, there would be no motive to increase the supply. .... ' This constant increase of people beyond the means of subsistence causes, then, a never-ceasing requirement for skill, intelligence, and self-control — involves, therefore, a constant exercise of these and gradual growth of them. Every industrial improvement is at once the product of a higher form of humanity, and demands that higher form of humanity to carry it into practice. The application of science to the arts is the bringing to bear greater intelligence for satisfying our wants ; and implies continued progress of their intelligence. To get more produce from the acre, the farmer must study chemistry, must adopt new mechanical appliances, and must, by the multiplication of processes, cultivate both his own powers and the powers of his labourers. To meet the requirements of the market, the manufacturer is perpetually improving his old machines and inventing new ones ; and by the premium of high wages incites artisans to acquire greater skill. The daily-widening rami- fications of commerce entail on the merchant a need for more knowledge and more complex calculations ; while the lessening profits of the ship-owner force him to build more scientifically, to get captains of higher intelligence, and better crews. In all cases, pressure of population is the original cause. Were it not for the competition this entails, more thought and energy would not drily Social Consequences of Heredity. 383 be spent on the business of life, and growth of mental life would not take place. Difficulty in getting a living is alike the inceative to a higher education of childaen, and to a more intense and long-continued application in adults. In the mother it induces foresight, economy, and skilful house-keeping; in the father, laborious days and constant self-denial. Nothing but necessity could make men submit to this discipline ; and nothing but this discipline could produce a continued progression. 'In this case, as in many others, nature secures each step in advance by a succession of trials, which are perpetually repeated, and cannot fail to be repeated, until success is achieved. . . . ' The proposition at which we have thus arrived is, then, that excess of fertility, through the changes it is ever working in man's environment, is itself the cause of man's further evolution; and the obvious corollary here to be drawn is, that man's further evolution, so brought about, itself necessitates a decline in his fertility. ' That future progress of civilization, which the never-ceasing pressure of population must produce, will be accompanied by an enhanced cost of individuation, both in structure and function, and more especially in nervous structure and function. The peaceful struggle for existence in societies ever growing more crowded and more complicated, must have for its concomitant an increase of the great nervous centres in mass, in complexity, in activity. The larger body of emotion needed as a fountain of energy for men who have to hold their places, and rear their families under the intensifying competition of social life, is, other things equal, the correlative of larger brain. Those higher feelings pre-supposed by the better self-regulation which, in a better society, can alone enable the individual to leave a persistent posterity, are, other things equal, the correlatives of a more complex brain ; as are also those more numerous, more varied, more general, and more abstract ideas, which must also become increasingly requisite for successful life as society advances. And the genesis of this larger quantity of feeling and thought, in a brain thus augmented in size and developed in structure, is, other things equal, the correla- tive of a greater wear of nervous tissue and greater consumption of materials to repair it So that, both in original cost of construction and in subsequent cost of working, the nervous system must become 384 Heredity. a heavier task on the organism. Already the brain of the civilized maruis larger by nearly thirty per cent, than the brain of the savage. Already, too, it presents an increased heterogeneity, especially in the distribution of its convolutions. And further changes like these which have taken place under the discipline of life we infer will continue to take place. 'But, everywhere and always, evolution is antagonistic to pro- creative dissolution. . . . And we have seen reason to believe that this antagonism between individuation and genesis becomes anusually marked where the nervous system is concerned, because of the costliness of nervous structure and function. In another place was pointed out the apparent connection between high cerebral development and prolonged decay of sexual maturity, the evidence going to show that where exceptional fertility exists there is sluggishness of mind, and that where there has been during education excessive expenditure in mental action, there frequently follows a complete or partial infertility.1 Hence, the particular kind of further evolution which man is hereafter to undergo is one which, more than any other, may be expected to cause a decline in his power of reproduction. . . . ' The necessary antagonism between individuation and genesis not only, then, fulfils with precision the d priori law of main- tenance of race, from the monad up to man, but ensures final attainment of the highest form of this maintenance — a form in which the amount of life shall be the greatest possible, and the births and deaths the fewest possible. This antagonism could not fail to work out the results we see it working out. The excess of fertility has itself rendered the process of civilization inevitable; and the process of civilization must inevitably di- minish fertility, and at last destroy its excess. From the beginning, pressure of population has been the proximate cause of progress. It produced the original diffusion of the race. It compelled men to abandon predatory habits and take to agriculture. It led to the clearing of the earth's surface. It forced men into the social state; made social organization inevitable, and has developed the social sentiments. It has stimulated to progressive improvements 1 For details see Spencer's Biolozy, §§ 346, 366, and 367. Contusion. 385 in production, and to increased skill and intelligence. It is daily thrusting us into closer contacts and more mutually-dependent relationships. And after having caused, as it ultimately must, the due peopling of the globe, and the raising of all its habitable parts into the highest state of culture ; after having brought all processes for the satisfaction of human wants to perfection ; after having, at the same time, developed the intellect into complete competency for its work, and the feelings into complete fitness for social life — after having done all this, the pressure of popula- tion, as it gradually finishes its work, must gradually bring itself to an end.' l CONCLUSION. WE now sum up all that has been said, in order to get a general view of our subject There are two ways of reaching a conclusion : either we may restrict ourselves to the facts, or we may strive to attach them to some probable hypothesis ; we may limit ourselves to experience ; or, starting from experience, we may endeavour to reach beyond it In the first case, heredity is regarded as a law of life, of which the cause is the partial identity of the con- stituent elements of the organism in parent and in child. In the second case, it appears to us as a fragment of a far broader law, a law of the universe, and its cause is to be sought for in universal mechanism. We will examine the question according to both of these methods. Let us first look at it simply from the stand-point of experience. To this end we need but review what has already been said in the course of this work. As regards specific characteristics, heredity comes before us with the evidence of an axiom, for it is without exception. In the physical, as in the moral order, every animal necessarily inherits the characteristics of its species. An animal which, per impossibile, 1 Spencer's Biology, §§ 372—376. 386 Heredity. should possess with the organism of its own species the instincts of another, would be a monster in the psychological order. The spider can neither have the sensations nor perform the actions of the bee, nor the beaver those of the wolf. Just so in one and the same species, whether animal or human, the races preserve their psychical, precisely as they do their physiological characteristics. Finally, as regards man, there is not one — even of those varieties of the same race which we call peoples — that does not present permanent moral characters, when we consider the sum of the individuals. Under the specific form, then, mental heredity is unquestionable, and the only doubt possible would have reference to individual characteristics. We have shown from an enormous mass of facts, which we might easily have made larger, that the cases of indi- vidual heredity are too numerous to be the result of mere chance, as some have held them to be. We have shown that all forms of mental activity are transmissible — instincts, perceptive faculties, imagination, aptitude for the fine arts, reason, aptitude for science and abstract studies, sentiments, passions, force of character. Nor are the morbid forms less transmissible than the normal, as we have seen in the case of insanity, hallucination, and idiocy. Having got at the facts, the next thing was to interpret them, by ascertaining their laws. Here, in the inextricable tangle of con- flicting causes, we reach only a theoretic determination of the law. In practice, however, we can establish a few empiric formulas which enable us to class the facts tolerably well. Thus, heredity is either direct or indirect; now it passes from parent to child, now again it must be referred to some remote ancestor. We have endeavoured to show how the phenomena of atavism, or of rever- sional heredity, may, not inaptly, be compared to alternate gene- rations in lower species; and how, at all events, those phenomena may serve to give us a correct idea of heredity and of the stubborn tenacity of its laws. Passing from the laws to the causes, we have carefully avoided all researches into ultimate reasons, and the only hypothesis we have judged admissible with regard to the immediate cause of heredity is this : psychological heredity has its cause in physiolo- gical heredity, and this in turn has its cause in the partial identity Conclusion. 387 of the materials constituting the organism of both parent and child, and in the division of this substance at reproduction. Heredity is really, therefore, partial identity. Thus we have been enabled, precisely — topographically, as it were — to define the position of our subject with reference to all other psychological studies. Heredity belongs to the science of the relations between the physical and the moral; it is one form of the influence of the physical over the moral ; it is therefore a fraction of one great branch of that science. The study of consequences led us to practical questions. Heredity transmits, preserves, accumulates. Is the result of this to create intellectual and moral habits — that all progress prepares further progress, all decadence further decadence ? Two solutions occurred to us with regard to the general consequences of heredity, the one radical and hypothetical, and the other positive. The first, which attributes to heredity a creative part, explains thereby the very genesis of our faculties ; the second, which attributes to it the conservative part, explains thereby the development of our faculties. We accepted the first, as any bolder solution seemed premature. The question of the consequences appeared to us to be really dominated by this general law, which is verified by experience — the transmission of any acquired modification. When the fact of mental heredity shall be better known ; when our vague intuitions of this matter have become evident truths — then its social import- ance, as yet hardly suspected, will be better understood; and many a question which it were now idle to discuss will perhaps arise and furnish their own solution. Yet it is hardly possible for even the most inattentive observer not to ask whether, if the laws of psychological heredity were known, man might not employ them for his own intellectual and moral improvement, thus bending to his own purposes, here as elsewhere, the forces of nature. It is now some forty years since Spurzheim and others put the question, whether one day we might not be able to foresee the intellectual character of children, the psychological constitution of their parents being known, and whether 'we could not easily create races of able men, by employing the means adopted for the production of different species of animals.' 388 Heredity. A categorical answer is impossible at present Hitherto man has thought more of perfecting other races than his own, probably from ignorance of natural laws. Yet we may affirm, on the strength of an incontestable calculation of probabilities, that parents of superior mental ability are likely to produce intellectual children, and that, however numerous the deviations and anomalies (and we have seen that numerous they must be), still — since among facts of the same order, depending in part on constant, and in part on variable causes, law must at last carry the day — a conscious selection, carried on for a long time, would have good results. But the race so formed could never be left to itself, for, not to speak of atavism, which would bring back abruptly mental forms apparently extinct, we know that heredity always tends to revert to the primitive type, or, to speak without metaphor, what was acquired but recently possesses little stability ; perhaps, too, these selected constitutions resemble those very unstable compounds which it is very difficult to fix. We do not know what man was originally, nor can we tell what he yet will be. But compare for a moment the state of nature with that of the highest civilization. Compare the almost naked savage, his brain filled with images and void of ideas, with his rude speech and his fetiches — a man associated with nature, living her life, and forming one with her — with the man that is very remote from nature, highly civilized, highly refined — initiated into all the niceties of art, literature, and science, all the elegancies and all the complexities of social life, and practising that maxim of Goethe, Strive to understand thyself and to understand all things beside. The distance between these two extremes appears infinite, and yet it has been travelled over step by step. No doubt this evolution — the result of the complex play of numerous causes — is not due exclusively to heredity; but we have succeeded ill with our task if the reader does not now see that it has contributed largely to bringing it about. II. Quitting now experience, though not forgetting it, we will endeavour to trace back the law of heredity to some more general law which shall explain it Whatever may be thought of the Conclusion. 389 theoretic considerations which follow, it must be borne in mind that they are independent of our investigations of the facts : they give completeness to the facts, but they do not alter them. We have nowhere confounded proof with hypothesis. If we except cut-and-dry solutions and certain narrow partisan views, we may say that contemporary investigation in England, France, and Germany, manifests one common tendency — conscious in some writers, unconscious in others — to hold that, whatever we know, and consequently whatever exists for us, whether in the physical or in the moral order, is reducible under one or other head of this antithesis : mechanism and spontaneity ; determinism and free-will. In the view of one school, mechanism explains, or will one day explain, everything, and any other hypothesis does but mask our ignorance. For another school, universal mechanism is only the empty form of existence, the totality of its conditions, not existence itself — the appearance of things, not the reality. They cannot conceive of a mechanism without a primum movens to give it im- pulse and vitality. The absolute determinism of phenomena is incontestable; the end of all science is 'to study it; the office of all science is to ascertain it; the progress of the human mind to detect it where all seems fortuitous and lawless. Every science must accept determinism — at least, so far as regards its empiric conditions — its constitution as a science depends on this. Even those sciences which most resist it will be compelled to accept it. We have applied this principle to psychological phenomena under a peculiar aspect, that of hereditary transmission — for heredity is one form of determinism. Mental activity is subject to divers laws, which are but divers forms of determinism, of which the most general is the law of association or of habit With this subject we did not concern ourselves. From the complicated laws, each one of which performs its part in binding on us the yoke of necessity, we have selected one. It now remains for us to show that it is in fact a form of mechanism. In the order of physico-chemical phenomena it is universally admitted that everything may be explained by emotion and its transformations, and that consequently the most absolute deter- minism reigns in the inorganic world. 390 Heredity. With regard to vital phenomena there is no such uniformity of opinion. Many hold that the harmony of the functions which support life in plants and animals cannot be merely the result of the general laws of motion, and that it necessitates the hypothesis of some principle distinct from the organism and subject to different laws. It cannot, however, be denied that all these vitalist explana- tions have a provisional character, that they yield daily to mechanical explanations, and that it looks as though eventually their only stay would be our ignorance. Furthermore, inasmuch as the quantity of motion in the universe is invariable, the hypothesis of a force possessed of the power of creating motion, of suspending it, and varying it, is full of difficulties and contradictions. Hence the conclusion which meets us at the end of all our scientific researches is that ' we are warranted in bringing life under the laws of inor- ganic matter, though there are some special processes peculiar to life.' (Claude Bernard.) There is still less disposition to admit determinism in the order of psychological phenomena. Yet whatever progress has been made by experimental psychology during the past forty years — real progress, though as yet but little known — consists in the investiga- tion of laws — that is to say, of invariable simultaneousness and succession — in other words of determinism. So recent is this study, so little has been done, compared with what remains to do, that psychological determinism necessarily finds many opponents and few adherents. Yet it is contrary to all logic to hold that this category of phenomena is not subject to determinism. In the first place, perception, which is the necessary starting-point of all conscious mental activity, is subject to physical and physiological laws with which we are partially acquainted ; and we have seen that every sensation is resolved by analysis into slight motions. In the next place, intellectual activity (judgment, reason, memory, imagination) is governed by the great law of association or of habit, which is evidently only a form of determinism. Finally, as regards even the voluntary act, we have seen that, besides being subject to the law of habit, which reduces it to automatism, since it is always determined by motives, it always enters, as far as regards its empirical conditions, into the web of universal mechanism. Conclusion. 39 1 It would still remain for us to show that social and historical phenomena are not exempt from determinism; but it is impossible to do this here in a satisfactory manner. We may simply observe that it is the necessary consequence of all that has been said. History results from the action of nature on man, and of man on nature ; but if nature is subject to determinism, and man no less so, the resultant historical and social development cannot escape. Thus we find necessity everywhere — at the beginning, in the middle, and at the end of all things. It is almost superfluous to show that heredity is only a form of it If vital actions, in their production and in their evolution are subject to determinism, and if physiological heredity is bound up with organic heredity, is it not plain that hereditary transmission is one of the causes that introduce mechanism into mental activity, and which introduce nature into the domain of free-will ? We have seen that in practice — that is, in the moral, the social, and the political order, free-will loses what heredity gains. The totality of the motions which, according to mechanical laws, determine an organism to be, and to be in such a manner rather than in another, determine indirectly the mental constitution, which, as regards its empiric conditions, is bound up with that organism. Heredity, therefore, is a form of determinism ; but what distin- guishes this from all other forms is, that it is a specific deter- minism— the habit of a family, a race, or a species. 'The disposition possessed by the living economy to follow the directions previously impressed upon it — that tendency to repetition whence often results the apparently spontaneous reproduction of certain phenomena — is inherent in the organization; it is by it that animals are led to imitate themselves, that is, to repeat what they have previously done ; and this, too, leads them to imitate their ancestors.' (Du- trochet.) In other words, nothing that ever has been can cease to be; hence, in the individual, habit; in the species, heredity. This it is which fixes us in the indestructible series of causes and effects, and by this our poor personality is connected with the ultimate origin of things, through an infinite concatenation of necessities. Heredity is but one form of that ultimate law which by physicists is called the conservation of energy, and by metaphysicians uni- versal casuality. 392 Heredity. But it is difficult to admit that everything is reducible to mechanism. To us it seems impossible to see in mechanism any- thing else than the sum of the bare conditions and purely logical possibilities of existence : so that to accept mechanism is to accept the form instead of the reality. We firmly believe that wherever there are facts, of whatever kind, there is determinism ; that wherever there is determinism there is science ; and that science can neither go beyond determinism nor fall short of it But is there not beyond science a something that does not come under its law, high above all that science can know, by processes peculiar to it To do away with it would be a contradiction, to explain it would be only to offer an hypothesis. It is impossible alike to deny and to determine it, for it comes to us at once as necessary and as unknowable. At most we can only say that this unknown is the reality that lies concealed beneath psychological determinism — the end towards which the vital processes tend in every being, and the obscure tendency which is manifested even in the absolute determinism of inorganic matter. This supreme antithesis between free-will and mechanism, which underlies the antithesis of science and art, of the individual and the general, is insoluble to us. At times we are inclined to believe that all reality is in the person, that perfection consists in the most complete individuation, and that the general is but an ephemeral form of existence, pro- duced by what is common to the individuals ; that beneath the veil of universal mechanism there exists in nature, as it were, a dispersed thought, which is unconscious of itself in inorganic matter, seeks itself in the animal, and finds itself in man. At another time we are inclined to the belief that individuality is but the transitory product of the interaction of eternal laws; that, lost in a little nook in the universe, the best thing for us is to regard personality as an illusion, and to look with disdain on our griefs, which are so vain, and on our pleasures, which are so brief, to enter into communion with nature, and share in the imperturbable serenity of her laws. At times, too, we are disposed to think that this supreme anti- thesis might be resolved without sacrificing either free-will to mechanism, or mechanism to free-will; that, were we to occupy a Conclusion. 393 higher stand-point, we should see that what is given us from without as science, under the form of mechanism, is given us from within as aesthetics or morals, under the form of free-will. In our opinion, the progress of the present and of future sciences will enable us better and better to state this antinomy : it were rash to hope for its solution. THE BSD. THE WORKS OF TH. RIBOT. Heredity : A Psychological Study of its Phenomena, Laws, Causes, and Consequences. From the French. 12mo. Cloth, $2.00. "Heredity is that biological law by which all beings endowed with life tend to repeat themselves in their descendants ; it is for the species what personal identity is for the individual. The physiological side of this subject has been diligently studied, but not BO its psychological wide. We propose to supply this deficiency in the present work.11 — i roin the Introduction. English Psychology. From the French. 12mo. Cloth, $1.50. CONTENTS.— Samuel Bailey, Alexander Bain, David Hartley, G. H. Lewes, James Mill, John Stuart Mill, Herbert Spencer. Diseases of Memory : An Essay in the Positive Psychology. From the French by William Ilumington Smith. 12mo. Cloth, $1.50. " Not merely to scientific, but to all thinking men, this volume will prove intensely interesting."— New York Observer. "M. Kibot has bestowed the most painstaking attention upon his theme, and numerous examples of the conditions considered greatly increase the value and interest of the volume.11— Philadelphia North American. " ' Memory,1 says M. Ribot, ' is a general function of the nervous system. It is based upon the faculty possessed by the nervous elements of conserving a re- ceived modification and of forming associations.' And again : ' Memory is a bio- logical fact. A rich and extensive memory is not a collection of impressions, but an accumulation of dynamical associations, very stable and very responsive to proper stimuli. . . . The brain is like a laboratory full of movement where thousands of operations are going on all at once. Unconscious cerebration, not being subject to restrictions of time, operating, so to speak, only in space, may act in several directions at the same moment. Consciousness is the narrow gale through which a very small part of all this work is able to reach us.1 M. Ribot thus reduces diseases of memory to law, and his treatise is of extraordinary Interest."— Philadelphia, Press. THE WORKS OF FRANCIS GALTON, F. R.S. Hereditary Genius : An Inquiry into its Laws and Consequences. New and revised edition, with an American Preface. 12mo. Cloth, $2.00. "The following psjea embody the result of the first vigorous and methodical effort to treat the question iu the true scientific spirit, and place it upon the proper inductive basis. Mr. Gallon proves, by overwhelming evidence, that genius, talent, or whatever we term great mental capacity, follows the law of organic transmission— runs in families, and is an affair of blood and breed : and that a sphere of phenomena hitherto deemed capricious and defiant of rule is, nevertheless, within the operation of ascertainable law.1' — From the American Preface. English Men of Science : Their Nature and Nurture. 12mo. Cloth, $1.00. For sale by cdl booksellers ; or sent by mail, post-paid, on receipt of price. New York : D. APPLETON & CO., 1, 3, & 5 Bond Street. The Works of Professor E. L. YOUMANS, M. D. Class-book of Chemistry. New edition. 12mo. Cloth, $1.60. The Hand-book of Household Science. A Popular Account of Heat, Light, Air, Aliment, and Cleansing, in their Scientific Principles and Domestic Applications. 12mo. Illustrated. Cloth, $1.75. The Culture demanded by Modern Life. A Series of Addresses and Arguments on the Claims of Scientific Education. Edited, with an Introduction on Mental Discipline in Education. 1 vol., 12rno. Cloth. $2.00. Correlation and Conservation of Forces. A Series of Expositions by Professor Grove, Professor Helmholtz, Dr. Mayer, Dr. Faraday, Professor Liebig, and Dr. Carpenter. Edited, with an Introduction and Brief Biographical Notices of the Chief Promoters of the New Views, by EDWARD L. YOUMANS, M. D. 1 vol , 12mo. Cloth, $2.00. The Popular Science Monthly. Conducted by E. L. and W. J. YOUMANS. Containing instructive and interesting articles and abstracts of articles, original, selected, and illustrated, from the pens of the leading scientific men of different countries ; Accounts of important scientific discoveries ; The application of science to the practical arts ; The latest views put forth concerning natural phenomena, by savantt of the highest authority. TERMS : Five dollars per annum ; or fifty cents per number. A Club of five will be sent to any address for $20.00 per annum. The volumes begin May and November of each year. Subscriptions may begin at any time. New York: D. APPLETON & CO., 1, 8, & 5 Bond Street WORKS OF SIR JOHN LUBBOCK, BART. THE ORIGIN OF CIVILIZATION AND THE PRIMITIVE CONDITION OF MAN, Men- tal and Social Condition of Savages. Fourth edition, with numerous Additions. With Illustrations. 8vo. Cloth, $5.00. "The first edition of this work was published in the year 1870. The work has been twice revised for the press in the interval, and now appears in itf> fourth edition enlarged to the extent of nearly two hundred pages, including a full index." "This interesting work — for it is intensely so in its aim, scope, and the abil- ity of its author — treats of what the scientists denominate anthropology, or tho natural history of the human species ; the complete science of man, body and soul, including sex, temperament, race, civilization, etc."— Providence Press. PREHISTORIC TIMES, as illustrated by An- cient Remains and the Manners and Cus- toms of Modern Savages. Illustrated. Entirely new revised edition. 8vo. Cloth, $5.00. The book ranks among the noblest works of the interesting and important class to which it belongs. As a resume of our present knowledge of prehistoric man, it leaves nothing to be desired. It is not only a good book of reference, but the best on the subject. " This is, perhaps, the best summary of evidence now in our possession con- cerning the general character of prehistoric times. The Bronze Age, The Stone Age. The Tumuli, The Lake Inhabitants of Switzerland, The Shell Mounds. The Cave Man, and The Antiquity of Man, are the titles of the most important chap- ters."— Dr. C. K. Adams s Manual of Historical Literature. ANTS, BEES, AND WASPS. A Record of Observations on the Habits of the Social Hyinenoptcra. With Colored Plates. 12mo. Cloth, $2.00. "This volume contains the record of various experiments made with ants, bees, and wasps during the last ten years, with a view to test their mental con- dition and powers of sense. The principal point in which Sir John's mode of experiment differs from those of Hnber, Forel, McCook. and others, is that he ban carefully watched and marked particular inserts, and has had their nests under observation for long periods — one of his ants' nests having been under constant inspection ever since 1874. His observations arc made principally upon ants, because they show more power and flexibility of mind ; and the value of his studies is that they belong to the department of original research." " We have no hesitation in saying that the author has presented ns with the most valuable series of observations on a special subject that has ever been pro- duced, charmingly written, full of logical deductions", and. when we consider his multitudinous engagements, a remarkable illustration of economy of time. As a c •ntribtition to insect psychology, it will be long before this book finds a par- allel."— London Atherxxum. New York : D. APPLETON & CO., 1, 3, & 5 Bond Street Works of Alexander Bain, LL.D., PROFESSOR OF LOGIC IN TBS UNIVERSITY OF ABERDEEN. LOGIC, DEDUCTIVE AND INDUCTIVE. New revised edition. 12mo, Cloth, $2.00. MENTAL SCIENCE: A Compendium of Psychology and History of Philosophy. 12mo. Cloth, $1.50. ni. MORAL SCIENCE : A Compendium of Ethics. 12mo. Cloth, $1.50. IV. MIND AND BODY. The Theories of their Relations. (Forming a volume of " The International Scientific Series.") 12mo. Cloth, $1.50. V. THE SENSES AND THE INTELLECT. New edition. 8vo. Cloth, $5.00. VL THE EMOTIONS AND THE WILL. Third edition. 8vo. Cloth, $5.00. vn. EDUCATION AS A SCIENCE. (Forming a volume of "The International Scientific Series.") 12mo. Cloth, $1.75. " The work should become a text-book for teachers, not to he followed ser vilely or thoughtlessly, but used for it? guggestiveness."— Hoi/ton Gazette. " Professor Bain is not a novice in this field. His work is admirable in many respects for teacher, parent, and pupil."— Philadelphia North American. " A work of great value to all teachers who study it intelligently." — Boston Advertiser. D. APPLETON & CO., Publishers, 1. 8. & 6 BOND STREET. NEW YORK. University of California SOUTHERN REGIONAL LIBRARY FACILITY 405 Hilgard Avenue, Los Angeles, CA 90024-1388 Return this material to the library from which it was borrowed. TH Series 9482 85509 4022 A 001 047 292 6 la Ui