It seems hardly credible that there should exist people who profess to accept the Darwinian theory of development of species in all its fulness, and yet reject the idea of the human mind having been evolved by slow stages from the primitive sense-organ of our lowliest ancestors, the Protista. Such inconsistency seems almost puerile, and, were it not for the fact that the admission of this truth would be the final blow at the various faiths of the world, we should not be called upon to-day to defend a position so utterly impregnable as that assumed by Haeckel and others in regard to the evolution of the human mind. When education has advanced further there will, we must hope, be less of this shutting of the eyes to obvious truths for the mere sake of propping up for a little while longer the belief in a batch of fairy tales and preposterous legends. As we look around us upon the wonderful objects of nature we see everywhere animation and law; the heavens above are full of life—suns, planets, moons, and other celestial bodies incessantly moving to and fro, all bound in their courses by the immutable laws of nature; the vast ocean, teeming with myriads of living beings, is incessantly rolling and roaring like some great monster, but never exceeds the limits which nature has assigned to its action; and the whole face of the earth presents a constant scene of activity of some kind or other—volcanoes discharging their molten fluid, huge glaciers grinding along the ground, monster rivers rushing forward with incessant roar, and the vegetable and animal kingdoms increasing and multiplying at a marvellous pace. All this is life—in fact, everything we see around us, of whatever form or shape, is life of some sort. The very ground upon which we stand is full of life, each particle of dust being held to its fellow particles by mutual attraction; and there is not a single atom of the earth’s substance or of the whole universe that we can say is minus this property of life or activity; nothing in the universe that we know of ever remains for one moment in a state of rest; everything is constantly moving, and every particle of the whole contributes its own share to the general activity which we term motion or life. The whole universe is a huge manifestation of phenomena, which make up the sum-total of life or activity. The sun rotating on its axis is one form of life; the moon silently wandering round our planet is another form of life; the trees and animals growing and multiplying on the land are other forms; and every lump of ore taken out of the ground and every paving stone in our streets are other forms of life. Every particle of every substance whatever is in a state of continual motion, and therefore full of life. In fact, it is this very motion or life that sustains matter; for matter could not exist—that is, its particles could not hold together, and thus form substance—without the life, motion, activity, or whatever we like to term the property which operates upon them and produces mutual cohesion.

Life has always, therefore, been active in matter, and always will be, for life or motion cannot be separated from matter; and, just as matter has passed from a condition of homogeneity to one of heterogeneity, so has life done likewise. Life possesses infinite potentiality, and manifests itself in an infinite variety of ways by means of different combinations, which it brings about in the molecular atoms of universal matter. It acts, for instance, upon a planet by causing its particles to hold together in one mass apart from other bodies of a similar or dissimilar character; it also acts upon what we unscientifically call inanimate nature by causing its particles to hold together, forming in one case a stone, in another a metal, etc.; and it acts upon what we term animated nature by causing its molecules to combine and procreate. This power of attraction and cohesion of particles of universal matter is life, and it depends entirely upon what particular combination of the molecular atoms of universal matter takes place whether a sun, a moon, a planet, a stone, a crystal, a sponge, a tree, or a man be the result. This much is certain, however, that not one of these bodies can ever be produced except by an evolutionary process subject to the universal and unchangeable law which fixes the sequence.

Animal life, as distinct from all other life, is a comparatively late development or manifestation in the sequence of universal phenomena. This world on which we live had existed as a compact body for millions of ages before life assumed the character of animal life; and so gradual was the process of evolution from the primal condition of homogeneity, through all the manifold stages of life, until the condition of animal life was reached, that it is impossible to fix a particular moment when such life became manifest. So it is with every stage of the evolutionary process; there are no starting-places for particular species, the whole being one continuous unfolding of phenomena, without arrest of any kind.

It is equally impossible to fix a particular point or moment for the manifestation of the crystal life as it is for that of the animal or the vegetable life. All are but gradual unfoldings of the universal potentiality. Crystal life is the highest development of what is popularly but erroneously termed inanimate nature, and differs not one iota from Moneron life, which is the lowest form of animal life, in its constituent elements, the only difference between the two being in the mode of combination of the elementary particles composing each. The crystal elements combine in such proportions as to cause the mass to hold together like other solid bodies, its bulk being increased by the deposition of fresh particles upon its outer surface; while the Moneron elements combine in such a manner as to render the body soft and yielding, so that it can absorb nutriment from without to within and multiply by fission. The elements of both are identically the same: the manner of combination causes the differences between them. Many learned men declare that, if this were true, we ought to be able to take the five elements—viz., Oxygen, Hydrogen, Nitrogen, Carbon, and Sulphur—in the necessary proportions, and, by uniting them, form animal life. This, they say, has been attempted, and the result has been failure; therefore, animal life could not have been generated in that manner, but must have been specially created at some particular moment. This argument is absurdly unsound. These persons might just as well say that, to substantiate the assertion that crystals are formed of a combination of elementary molecules, we ought to be able to take the necessary quantity of these elements, and, by uniting them together, form a crystal; and that, if this cannot be done, then crystals also require a special creation. The same argument for a special creation will apply to every species of the animal, vegetable, and mineral kingdoms. Protoplasm is the lowest form of animal life, differing from the highest form of mineral life only in the mode of combination of its elementary particles; but this difference causes the manifestation of fresh phenomena, in this case as in every other modification of a previous state of nature, which gives it the appearance of possessing a property that had not been possessed by any substance previously, whereas, in truth, the apparently new property is but a further development of that previously possessed by inorganic bodies. In short, the power of absorption possessed by the Moneron is simply one of the many manifestations of that universal life or energy that is inherent in all matter, and has been so from all time; but it is a comparatively late development, occurring at a particular period in the world’s history, when the conditions necessary for such a development were present. Before this period no such combination of molecular atoms took place with the same result, simply because the necessary conditions of development were absent. In the same manner precisely there was a prior period when no such substance as a crystal existed, the conditions requisite for the peculiar combination of molecular atoms to result in the formation of a crystal having been absent.

When the world had undergone sufficient evolutionary development there came a time when such atmospheric and other conditions were present as to permit of a modification of the then existing substances and properties, which resulted in the formation of the crystal; and, precisely in the same manner, and for the same reason, a further and later modification resulted in the formation of Protoplasm, which is the earliest form of animal life. This little substance gradually differentiated into two distinct parts, by a nucleus being formed in the centre of the protoplasmic mass, and became possessed with a peculiar power of locomotion, which caused a still greater difference to exist between itself and its ancestral stock. This power of locomotion, again, is but a modification of that life-power of which we have spoken, and forms a stepping-stone between the molecular action of mineral substances and the mental wonders of the human being. The crystal, in common with all other bodies in the mineral kingdom, always possessed this power of locomotion to a limited extent; every one of the individual atoms which make up the whole substance has always had the power of locomotion, for they all attract and repel each other and effect cohesions by their mutual attraction. This locomotive power underwent such a modification when cell-life (Protozoa) was manifested that not only were the constituent molecular atoms individually possessed of this power, as before, but the whole mass of the cell became endowed with the same property, just as a whole continent of free people who have been in the habit of defending themselves singly against their enemies sometimes combine and co-operate with each other in the form of a republic, the function of the individual being assumed by the body as a whole. The little cellular organisms, which are called AmoebÆ, possess this extended power of locomotion, and may be seen constantly moving about in the endeavour to locate themselves in the brightest part of their dwelling place, frequently a little pond. They are attracted by light, which clearly proves that they possess a degree of sensory perception, although special sense-organs are of course wanting, the whole mass of the body being nothing more than a single cell composed of protoplasm and nucleus. These little cellular organisms soon unite with each other, forming small bodies composed of several cells in a state of cohesion (SynamoebÆ), and on the surface of these multicellular organisms are shortly afterwards thrown out minute threads or ciliae, the first attempt at separation of sense-organs from the surface of the body. In these tiny Protozoa, those organisms which consist of one single cell only, the AmoebÆ, as well as those consisting of several cells in a state of union, the SynamoebÆ, are able to perform all the functions of animal life—cohesion, sensation, motion, digestion, and reproduction; but, as the organism becomes more and more complex, these different functions are shared among several groups of cells. This differentiation proceeds steadily stage by stage, until at last different senses are located in different parts of the body, and we find animals possessing eyes, ears, noses, and mouths, one organ performing the function of sight, another that of hearing, and so on. All these organs of sense are but parts of the general nervous organisation of the body, which is apparently absent in the Protista, but existing potentially in the protoplasmic substance, as it also does in every other substance in the universe.

The ciliated multiple cell-organism, in course of time, becomes transformed into a hollow body, having a wall composed of a single layer of cells, and this again, by invagination, or folding of itself within itself, forms a double-walled cavity, or Gastrula, having an external opening like a mouth. These little animals, the Gastroeada, having an inner layer of cells (the endoderm), which carries on the nutritive and assimilative functions of the organism, and an outer layer (the ectoderm), which forms the general motor and sense-organ of the body, are the first animal organisms to possess a real sense-organ separate and distinct from other parts of the body. From this epidermal organ of sense are developed, as higher forms of animal life make their appearance, the nerve-cells and sense-cells which form the whole nervous system.

In the fresh-water polyp, or Hydra, which is wanting in distinct organs of sense and nervous system, we find a remarkable sensitiveness to touch, warmth, and light, individual ectodermic neuro-muscular cells performing these functions, but a far greater sensibility being exhibited in the circle of fine prehensible tentacles surrounding the mouth than elsewhere. Here we have a marked attempt at localisation of sense-organs, and a manifestation of instinct, which makes the little animal shrink from the touch.

From the HydrÆ evolved the MedusÆ, which, instead of being dependent entirely on neuro-muscular cells like the parent forms, developed minute sets of nerves and muscles, by the use of which they became enabled to swim about easily and at their own will and pleasure. We get in this little animal the first appearance of real nerve function, or conductibility of stimulus along the nervous fibre to a muscle which it causes to contract—a totally different function to the contraction of the whole body upon a stimulus being applied to it, as in the case of the HydrÆ.

In the worm forms, which evolve from the Gastroeada, we come across the first attempt at special sense-organ formation, in the shape of depressions on the integument of the body. The Himatega, or sack-worms, possess a rudimentary spinal cord, and were the parents of the first true vertebrates, organisms without skulls or brains, but with a true vertebral cord. These little vermiform animals, in addition to their rudimentary spinal cords, exhibited upon the surface of the body several small depressions, which answered the purpose of a set of special sense-organs, one tiny depression being set apart especially for the perception of light waves, another for the perception of sound waves, another for the perception of odours, etc.; and thus gradually came about that wonderful evolutionary process by which bodies became endowed with more or less perfect special sense-organs.

As the animal kingdom developed into higher and higher forms of life, and skulls and brains became the order of the day, the special sense-organs became possessed of larger powers, at the same time that the whole nervous organisation assumed higher and more complex functions, resulting eventually in a very gradual unfolding of the most wonderful of all the latent potentialities of universal life—the marvel of consciousness. This is the present climax of Nature’s evolution, the grandest and most awful achievement of that hidden and mysterious force which baffles comprehension, and beside which all things seen, heard, or felt pale into insignificance.

To point out the precise method of the evolution of mind, step by step, until the final climax of consciousness was reached, would require an abler pen than mine; therefore I shall be content to briefly notice the different products of intellectual development in the order in which they are unfolded, showing the analogy between ontogenesis, or the life-history of the individual, and phylogenesis, or that of the whole race, not now as regards bodily, but only mental, evolution. We must ever remember that the biogenetic law insists that the process of development in the race is reflected in miniature in the embryonic history of every individual. In other words, it is, beyond doubt, an accepted article of faith with biologists that the development of the individual from the embryo in utero to the full-grown man is an exact counterpart of the development of the whole race from the primitive protoplasmic atom, the lowly Moneron, to homo sapiens, equally in regard to mental as to bodily evolution.

Every human individual commences his term of separate existence as a tiny speck of protoplasm, and slowly advances through the phases of separate cell-life, multicellular existence, and the gastrula, vermiform, and pisciform stages, being finally born as a partially-developed member of the human family, from which moment he grows rapidly to the perfection of the adult state, having accomplished, in the short period of about a score of years, precisely what his counterpart, the race, effected in many millions of years. During the period in which the individual dwells in utero great and rapid modifications take place in the general construction of the foetus; sensory perception makes its appearance very early, being followed quickly by the first attempt at differentiation of special sense-organs in the form of tiny surface depressions; the brain and spinal system gradually take shape and make ready for future action; and the little body slowly assumes a form suitable for separate extra-uterine existence. At the moment of birth the brain and special sense-organs are not yet developed to such a degree that they can properly discharge the functions they are called upon to perform in the mature state; they have to advance gradually to perfection in harmony with the growth of the whole body; and thus it is that a newly-born individual does not see, hear, or exhibit signs of consciousness until some time has elapsed from birth, although it is, at first, quite sensitive to cold and heat. If a lighted candle be held in front of the eyes of a newly-born infant, and moved to and fro, it will be at once observed that the child is totally unconscious of it; and, if a gun be fired off in the room occupied by the child, the effect upon the infantile organism is nil; but, if the air of the room be allowed to cool, the effect will be at once perceived, for the muscles of the child will soon begin to contract, and his vocal bellows to act vigorously. Gradually, however, the sight, hearing, etc., become adjusted, and the infant begins to take notice of surrounding objects, until at about a month after birth pain and pleasure, the first indications of the dawn of the mental powers, manifest themselves. Conscious, as distinguished from instinctive or non-conscious, memory appears to be exercised at about the thirteenth week, and to be immediately followed by association of ideas, the recognition of places and persons, and dreaming. At the same time that these indications of intellectual development are manifesting themselves, a corresponding unfolding of the emotions is observed. Side by side with memory appears fear, followed by pugnacity, play, and, later, anger; while, still later, about on a par with the first period of dreaming, or at about the age of five months, are manifested emulation, jealousy, joy, and grief. In about another month we notice that the child begins to understand words, while, on the emotional side, he evinces signs of awakening sympathy, curiosity, revenge, and gratitude, followed within a couple of months by pride, shame, deceitfulness, passionateness, cruelty, and ludicrousness, which show themselves at the moment the child appears to first exercise what we term true reason. From this point we see rapidly unfolded the higher products of intellectual development, the first of which is morality of a very indefinite kind, which immediately precedes articulation at the age of about fourteen months, being closely followed by knowledge of the use of various simple instruments, afterwards at the age of twenty months by concerted action, and still later by speech, which generally is effected at the age of two years, or rather earlier. Following quickly upon speech we observe judgment, recollection, and self-consciousness manifesting themselves, and, by the time the child has attained the age of two years and a half, morality of a definite kind makes its appearance.

Tracing the child’s development still further, we find the next important intellectual manifestation—viz., superstition—to take place at about three years of age, while concurrently the following emotional products appear—avarice, envy, hate, hope, vanity, mirth, and a love of the beautiful, which are followed, in the course of a few months, by awe and an appreciation of art. From this age to the condition of adult life, the intellectual faculties develop according to the surroundings of the individual, while, on the emotional side, reverence, remorse, and courtesy make their appearance at about the age of five years, and melancholy and ecstasy at about the tenth year.

In the foregoing ontogenetic mirror will be found the key to the unfolding of the great mystery of the evolution of mind in the animal kingdom. We have only to take the geological periods one after the other, and study the various life-forms found in each to see at once that, with the race, the order of sequence in the appearance of the intellectual and emotional faculties is precisely the same as with the individual. We may place the new-born infant intellectually on a par with the lowly molluscs or the vermiform little animals which existed in the Cambrian period, in which little organisms probably pain first made its entry upon the earth, followed by the appearance of pleasure, memory (conscious), and association of ideas in the lowly crustaceans of the later Cambrian and early Silurian periods. With the spiders, fishes, and crabs of the later Silurian and Devonian periods we have brought before us the faculty of recognising places of which these animals are capable, which places them intellectually on a level with a child of four or five months old.

The recognition of individuals next made its appearance in the reptiles of the Carboniferous and Permian epochs; while the birds of the OÖlitic and Cretaceous periods were the first to dream, and are thus placed on an intellectual level with a child of five or six months. The emotional development coincides with the intellectual, just as in the case of the infant, for we find fear manifesting itself among the lower molluscs, pugnacity among the crustaceans, play among spiders and crabs, anger among reptiles, and emulation, jealousy, joy, and grief among birds. We now rise in the palÆontological scale to the Tertiary period, and find in the Eocene age equine and other mammal forms, such as cats and pigs, which are capable of understanding words and signs, and among which we notice a manifestation of sympathy, curiosity, revenge, and gratitude. In the early Meiocene age we have monkeys, dogs, and elephants exhibiting the clearest signs of true reason, as may be observed at the present day, and at the same time manifesting such emotional signs as pride, shame, deceitfulness, passionateness, cruelty, and ludicrousness, which places them on an intellectual par with the infant of less than a year old.

In the later Meiocene age we have anthropoid apes, which may be placed on a level with one-year-old infants, and from which evolved apes of a higher order, which acquired the faculty of articulation, and, afterwards becoming more human, the knowledge of the use of simple instruments, thus reaching the intellectual level of the child of fifteen months old. As the apes became more and more human in the later Meiocene and early Pleistocene ages, they gradually acquired the faculty of acting in concert and of speech; and when, having arrived at that stage of development in which they partook more of the character of savage man than human ape, judgment, recollection, self-consciousness, and, lastly, definite morality manifested themselves, thus raising the ape-like man to the level of the child of two and a half years. In the lowest savages of to-day, as well as in the old descendants of the ape-like men, superstition developed to a large extent at the same time that the emotional unfolding proceeded in the direction of avarice, envy, hate, hope, vanity, mirth, a love of the beautiful, and afterwards art appreciation, awe, reverence, remorse, courtesy, melancholy, and ecstasy, precisely as with the child of from five to ten years of age. As the race improved, becoming in turn semi-savage, semi-civilised, civilised, and cultured, the intellectual powers, of course, developed similarly, until, at the present day, we find men possessed of the most wonderful mental grandeur, we might almost say, conceivable. But this would be saying too much, for we must not forget that, just as evolution has continued in the past from eternity, so will it continue in the future to eternity; and who can tell to what heights the human mind may soar in the future?

Lofty as is the human intellect at the present time, as compared with the mental powers of those we have left far behind in the march of evolution, it is yet very far from being able to grasp many of the great problems of the universe, such as that of existence. Perhaps at some future time, in millions of ages to come, these great questions may be answered; but at present we know they baffle the wisest men, and continually remind us of the finite and limited character of our intellectual faculties.

This comparison of the mental development of the individual with that of the whole race is extremely interesting, and provides ample material for thought. By such comparison, and by it alone, can the science of psychology ever be based on a sure and enduring foundation. It is all very well for theologians and other biased people to declare that animal intelligence has nothing in common with the reasoning powers of man; but let them honestly look at the facts as they are, thanks to the indefatigable energy and indomitable perseverance of lovers of science and truth, now presented to us. Candid observers cannot fail to notice that the difference between the intelligence of man and that of the lower animals is one only of degree, and not of kind. When we see the order of sequence being followed in the development of the individual so like that of the whole race, not only as regards the bodily structure, but also as regards the mental functions, can we help arriving at the conclusion that the one is but the epitome of the other, and that the superior intellect of man is but a higher development of the so-called instincts of the lower animals? Have we not at the present day, among members of the human family itself, various degrees of intelligence, from the almost barren brains of the lowest races of savages to the brilliant mental achievements of a Newton or a Spencer?

It is beyond doubt that the intellectual superiority of civilised man over his savage brethren is due to the greater multiplicity of his objects of thought, and it follows that savage man’s intellectual superiority over the lower animals is due to the same cause. The actions of both have the same aim—viz., the supplying of the wants of the physical nature and the gratifying of the desires aroused in the mind. It is frequently asserted that man differs from the lower animals in possessing the power of reflection; but this I hold to be an exploded argument, and at variance with all recent teaching. Dogs, elephants, and monkeys most certainly possess the faculty of reflection, and it is not difficult to find races belonging to the human family whose powers of reflection transcend hardly in the least degree those possessed by the higher apes; while the difference between the reflective capacity of the lowest savage, which is of the simplest conceivable kind, and that of the civilised European, which has developed into genius, is enormous. Then, again, it is often said that only man is emotional; but one need only have an ordinary acquaintanceship with domestic animals to at once see the absurdity of this argument, for dogs are frequently observed to laugh, to cry, to express joy and gratitude by their actions, and to betray feelings of shame and remorse; while horses and elephants have been observed to punish their cruel keepers in the most cunning manner and then to laugh at the poor fellows’ discomfiture. As to the “conscience argument,” so frequently brought forward, by religionists especially, all I have to say here is that conscience, or the knowledge of the distinction between right and wrong, is not an inherent quality of the human mind, being merely a result of the operation of the reflective faculty aided by experience, as is quite evident from the fact that the ideas of morality vary according to the age in which we live. The same may be said about the greatest of all the arguments against evolution—viz., that of language; for, just as conscience is but a product of reflection and experience, so is language also. It is a mistake to imagine that the power of speech is possessed by man alone, and that his language differs altogether from the cries and signals of the lower animals, for such is not the case. Many animals possess the faculty of speech, and human language differs from that of the lower animals only in its degree of development, and in no sense in its origin. Probably all language originated in interjection, or the “instinctive expression of the subjective impressions derived from external nature,” as Mr. Farrar puts it. And, just as the reflective powers of the race were developed and shone more brilliantly as each stage in the evolutionary march of intellect was passed, so did language pass from the simple monosyllabic cries to the complex dialects of modern civilisation; and it is worthy of notice that, at the present day, or at any rate very recently, there were races of savage men inhabiting this earth who possessed no language at all, and could not, on account of their mode of living, be placed on a higher intellectual level than the higher apes; while we have the authority of the leading philologists of the times in support of the fact that the monosyllabic cries of some of the lower human tribes are quite within the grasp of the ape’s voice.

Human beings have been discovered in wild and hitherto unexplored regions who have not the remotest idea of what we should term civilisation. They lead a wandering and useless life, sleeping at nights, not in huts, nor in caves, but squatting among the branches of tall trees, where they are placed out of the reach of savage animals. They do not appear capable of expressing their thoughts in sentences, but make use of exclamatory grunts, which serve the purposes of speech quite sufficiently for their limited requirements; and their general appearance approaches to a remarkable extent that of the higher apes, in that they are almost completely covered with hair, possess a dirty brown skin, short legs, long arms, and full abdomens, can pick up stones, sticks, etc., with their toes as well as their fingers, and show few if any signs of intellectual powers. Let any one visit the Zoological Gardens, in London, and carefully observe the apes exhibited there, and then say whether there is a vast difference between some of them and the human beings who answer to the above description. One need but visit the travelling menagerie of Messrs. Edmunds, and view their “missing link,” an excellent sample of the chimpanzee troglodyte, to see that the difference between man and the lower animals is one only of degree, quite as much as regards intellect as bodily form. I once saw exhibited in the Jardin d’Acclimatation, in Paris, a lot of Patagonian or Fuegan (I forget which) natives, who were very little superior intellectually to the chimpanzee. They were stark naked, in a wretchedly dirty condition, and appeared quite incapable of anything like sustained mental effort. But these are by no means the lowest among the human species.

In conclusion, I need only re-state my opinion that all so-called living things are but products of the development of protoplasm, whether belonging to the animal or vegetable kingdoms; that this protoplasm possesses the property of vitality, or the power of perceiving stimuli of various kinds and responding to them by definite movements; that the phenomena of mind are but functional manifestations of this protoplasmic development; and that the highest intellectual product of the human mind exists and has existed from eternity in a state of latent potentiality in every atom of protoplasm, as well as in every particle of matter in the universe.

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