exercise of his intellectual faculties. The following treatise naturally, therefore, divides itself into two parts: in the first of which it is intended to investigate and describe the physical condition of man; in the second, the adaptation of external nature to that condition.

But a wide field here opens to our view for man cannot, under any circumstances, be considered as an insulated being; or unconnected with the rest of animated nature. He is indeed but one link in the great chain of animal creation; and not only does the contemplation of his condition lose half its interest, if separated from the contemplation of the condition of other animals; but it cannot be satisfactorily investigated without that aid. And, again, animal life itself is but one among many modes of existence, by which the Creator has manifested his omnipotence; and which it is necessary to contemplate in connexion with the general phenomena of nature, in order to show the superiority of that province, at the head of which human beings have been placed.

In attempting however to form a just estimate of the physical condition of man, we must not regard him merely under the aspect of savage or uncivilized life, and consider this as his natural state: for it may be presumed that, at the present day, such a puerile view of the question is not for a moment entertained by any one capable of philosophical reflection. In fact, in as many different states as man does actually exist, civilised or savage, so many are his natural states. If any indeed could be pre-eminently called his natural state, it would be that of civilization for not only does experience show that his natural tendency is towards such a state; but we know, from the highest authority, that the existence of man is connected with a moral end; (with more indeed than a moral end; since morals have immediately a relation to this life only, while man is destined for a future ;) and a moral end is hardly attainable in an uncivilized state of society.

SECTION II.

The general Constitution of external nature.

THE more familiar objects of that external world by which man is surrounded are usually distributed into three kingdoms, as they are called; the animal, vegetable, and mineral: but for the purpose of this treatise it will be necessary to take into our account the phenomena of the atmosphere also.

The atmosphere principally consists of the air which we respire ; (a form of matter so subtle, in all its states, as to be invisible ;) together with a variable proportion of water, of which a part is always retained in close combination with the air; and, like the air itself, exists always in an invisible state. There are also diffused through

the atmosphere those still more subtle agents, heat and electricity. But all these, though of so subtle a substance, are in their occasional effects the most powerful agents of nature. For, omitting the consideration of their silent but wonderful operation, as exhibited in the process of vegetation, and in many other processes less open to observation, let us consider the occasional effects of air in the violence of a tornado; or of water, in the inundation of a rapid river: or let us contemplate the effect of either an indefinite diminution or increase of heat; on the one hand, the natural process of animal decomposition arrested by its abstraction, so that the imbedded mammoth remains at this moment in the same state that it was four thousand years ago; and in which, under the same circumstances, it undoubtedly would be, four thousand or four million years hence; on the other hand, the possibility of the dissipation of all the constituent parts of matter, or their fixation in the state of glass, resulting from the agency of indefinitely increased heat: or, lastly, let us consider the tremendous effects of condensed electricity in the form of lightning-and we shall necessarily. acknowledge that though in their usual state the constituents of the atmosphere are among the most tranquil agents of nature, yet, when their power is concentrated, they are the most awfully energetic.

In the mineral kingdom the most characteristic property of the several species appears to be a disposition to a pecular mode of mutual attraction among the particles composing the individuals belonging to them; from which attraction, when exerted under the most favourable circumstances, result that symmetry and regularity of form, to which the term crystal has been applied. The transparency and degree of hardness of crystals are various, and depend much upon external circumstances. The form is fundamentally the same for each species, though capable of being modified according to known laws; and the substance is chemically the same throughout its whole extent. Every atom of a crystallized mass of gypsum consists of water, lime, and sulphuric acid, united in the same proportions as are found to exist in the whole mass, or in any given part of it.

The individuals of the vegetable kingdom differ very remarkably from those of the mineral, both in form and substance. In their form we see nothing like the mathematical precision of crystallization; and in their substance they differ widely, according to the part of the vegetable which is examined: so that, independently of previous knowledge of the species, we could hardly discover any natural relation between the several constituent parts of the individual. What is there in the insulated leaf of a rose or of a peach tree, that would lead us to expect the fruit of the one or the flower of the other? But the most remarkable line of distinction between vegetables and the individuals of the preceding kingdom consists in their mode of increase and reproduction. Minerals can only increase, as such, by the apposition of particles specifically similar to themselves; and

can only be originally produced by the immediate combination of their constituent elements. But vegetables have an apparatus within them, by means of which they can assimilate the heterogeneous particles of the surrounding soil to their own nature; and they have also the power of producing individuals specifically the same as themselves: in common language, they are capable of contributing to their own growth, and to the continuation of their species. And as they produce these effects by means of internal organs adapted to the purpose, they are hence denominated organized bodies.

The individuals of the animal kingdom very closely resemble those of the vegetable in the two properties just described. The respective organs differ, as we might expect, in their form and position; but in their functions or mode of action there is a strong analogy, and even similarity, throughout. But animals differ from vegetables more remarkably than these do from every unorganized form of matter, in being endued with sensation and volition; properties which extend the sphere of their relations to such a degree, as to raise them immeasurable above all other forms of matter in the scale of existence. In distributing the individuals of the material world among these four kingdoms of nature, there occasionally prevails considerable obscurity, not only with respect to the true place which an individual ought to occupy in the scale of a particular kingdom; but even with respect to the question, under which of the four kingdoms it ought to be arranged; this obscurity arising of course from the points of resemblance apparently balancing, or more than balancing, the points of difference. Let us for instance, in the atmospherical kingdom, take a fragment of a perfectly transparent crystal of pure ice; and, under ordinary circumstances, it would be difficult, either by the sight or the touch, to distinguish it from a fragment of transparent quartz, or rock crystal: indeed the transfer of the original term xpúrraλos, from the one to the other, shows the close resemblance of the two. Some minerals again so nearly resemble vegetables in form, as to have given rise to specific terms of appellation, derived from the vegetable kingdom; as flos ferri, mineral agaric, &c. And, lastly, many of the animals called sea-anemones so far resemble the flower called by the same name, that their real character is at first very doubtful to those who are unacquainted with the animals of that genus. But, omitting these rare and equivocal instances, and avoiding the confinement of abstract definitions, we may safely affirm that, of all the kingdoms of nature, the individuals of the animal kingdom have the most extensive and important relations to the surrounding universe. And I need not here insist on the obvious inference, that if among the kingdoms of nature animals hold the first rank, in consequence of the importance of these relations, among animals themselves the first rank must be assigned to man.

17

CHAPTER II.

THE PHYSICAL CHARACTER OF MAN.

SECTION I.

The Physical Character of Man, compared with that of other
Animals.

ALTHOUGH, when viewed in the aggregate of his faculties, moral as well as physical, man confessedly holds the first rank among animals; yet, if we exclude from our consideration those intellectual powers and moral qualities by which he is essentially characterised, and confine our view to his mere animal nature, we find that he scarcely differs in any important point from any of the species of the higher classes. In each there is the same necessity for air, and sleep, and food; and the nature of the food and the mode of its digestion are not materially different: the nutrient fluid extracted by the process of digestion is converted into blood of the same character, and distributed in the same manner through the system; the constituent parts of the body and their mode of growth are almost precisely the same; for the bone, muscle, tendon, skin, hair, and brain of the horse, or deer, or tiger, or bear, scarcely differ in their physical or chemical characters from the correspondent parts in man: similar secretions, as the bile, tears, and saliva, are separated by similarly constructed organs; and similar parts become similarly diseased: the special senses of sight, hearing, taste, and smell, are exercised through the medium of similar organs, simply modified according to the particular wants of individual species: the sources of mere bodily pain or pleasure are generally the same: the instinctive affections, passions, and propensities are the same, and are manifested in the same way; the angry look of a dog, for instance, bespeaking the internal feeling as strongly as that of the man; and the playful and rapid movements of the young puppy resembling the careless hilarity of childhood, no less than the stayed motions and wary eye of the aged hound resemble the sedateness of the aged human being.

Probably, however, it would be nearer the truth, were we to say that man, if divested of his intellectual powers, and endued merely with his animal nature, would be inferior to the brutes; for, possessing, as is the case, very few of the prospective or preservative instincts, he would be unable, without the aid of his intellectual powers, to provide for some of his most imperious wants.

But we may go even further than this. Let us suppose, for instance, a community of human individuals, who, though not gifted

with a sufficient degree of intellectual powers to instruct others, or improve themselves, were yet endued with them to a degree sufficient to render them, if the opportunity offered, docile to a certain extent, and capable of executing many of the common offices of life; (and what town or village does not present to our observation individual instances of such unhappy shadows of human nature?) how could a community like this exist; in which, though all, by the terms of the supposition, were capable of learning something, yet none would be capable of teaching anything? of what use under these circumstances would be that "instrument of instruments" the human hand, where there was no presiding mind to direct its movements? And, with respect to that wonderful auxiliary of the human powers, how incorrect is the reflection of those who have asserted that men are superior to brutes, only because they possess this instrument: and how truly philosophical is the opposite reflection, that man is not superior to other animals because he possesses this instrument; but he is provided with such an instrument precisely because he is already superior to all other animals. And the converse is equally true, that, with intellectual powers of even a higher order than those which they already possess, human beings could not live in a state of society, could hardly indeed exist in any state, unless furnished with such an instrument as the hand.

SECTION II.

Differences in the Form of the Infant and of the Adult; particularly with reference to the Spine.

AND yet, notwithstanding the confessed superiority of man, if we view him only in the infancy of his individual existence, what is there that is calculated to give an earnest of his future vigour and activity, either with respect to bodily or mental powers; and what are all the advantages of the external world to a creature so utterly helpless, so utterly incapable of using or even passively enjoying them? In fact, with the exception of a very few instinctive rather than voluntary acts, such as that of deriving its nutriment from the mother's breast, the infant is, from the feebleness of its powers, incapable of efficient exertion; and depends entirely on the

assistance of those around it.

The physical differences, observable in comparing the structure of the infant with that of the adult, which enable the one to execute many operations of which the other is incapable, exist to a certain extent in every part of the body; but are perhaps more remarkable in the spine than in any other part: and the spine therefore may be selected as a fit term of comparison.

In considering the office of the adult spine, with a view to the