Nature and the Natural · The opinion that nature brings them into ... awing to my youth, I ... way...

! Nature and the Natural

Of all the terms in the vocabulary of specu- lative thought, the words "nature" and "natural" have, perhaps, the greatest ambiguity. T h e passages collected here re- flect the range and variety of the meanings that have been attached to them.

Nature is sometimes identified with the cosmos itsell and, as so regarded, it em- braces everything, even being identified with God in the view of pantheists who think of God a s immanent in nature, not as transcending it. But it is also conceived as quite distinct from God-as the creation of God, who, as uncreated, is therefore referred to as supernatural. In other contexts, a basic distinction is drawn between nature and art-the natural and the artificial, that which is independent of man and that which is in some way dependent on man's efforts or intervention. But nature is also conceived by certain writers as bcing an art- ist or as being the product of the divine art. In still other contexts, nature is personificd as if it were a brooding omnipresence, the embodiment of an indwelling reason, pur- poseful and even benevolent; and against such views, the reader will find the opinion expressed that nature represents blind ne-

cessity or chance, indifferent to human well- being and human aspirations.

T h e quotations included in this section set forth most of the maxims that have been for- mulated concerning nature's operations, usually expressed in personified form: that nature does nothing in vain; that nature abhors a vacuum; that nature can make no mistakes; that nature knows best; that nature does nothing by jumps; that nature is frugal or economical, employing the fewest means to achieve its ends and wasting nothing; that nature manifests thc wisdom of God; and so on. Most of these sayings have been challenged or con~radicted.

Whcn nature is regarded as the standard of what is right or reasonable, to say that something is unnatural or contrary to nature condemns it morally; but it has also been maintained that there is nothing unnatural or contrary to nature, though it may violate custom or receivcd opinion.

Thc poets celebrate the beauties of nature as well as its awesome powers. Together with the philosophers and others, they speak of the things that men can learn from nature, and the benefits to be derived from in- tirrracy with i l .

1 Arhillnrr. T h e enormous strength a1 Ocean with his deep-running waters,

Ocean, from whom all rivers are and the cntire rea

and all springs a n d all deep wells have their waters a l him, yet

even Ocean is alraid of the lightning of great Zeus and the dangerous thunderbolt when it breaks

from the sky crashing.

Horner, Iliod, XXI, 195

2 EIcofzr SIrsnger Looking, now. at the world and all the animals and plants, a t thin,^ which grow

upon the earth lrom seeds and r m a , as well as at inanimate substances w h ~ h are formed within the earth, fusile o r non-lusile, shall we say that they come into existence-not having existed previous- ly-by the creation of God, or shall we agree w ~ t h vulgar opinion about them?

7lrrarlrlur. What is it? Sf,. T h e opinion that nature brings them into

being from same spontaneous and unintelligent caure. O r shall we say that they are created by a dir,ine reasor, and a knowledge which comes from God?

Theor/ 1 dare say ihat, awing to my youth, I may olten waver in my view, but now when I l m k

19.1. Nolure and !he Natural 1 1 17 1

at you and r e that vou inclinc to refcr them a, God, I defer to your authority.

Str Nobly said, Theactctus. and il I thuught that you were one 01 those who would herealter change your mind, I would have gently a r p e d with you, and forced you to assent; but as 1 per- ceive that you will come of yoursclf and without any argumcnt of mind, to that belief which, as you say, attracts you, I will not lorestall the work 01 time. Let me suppose, then, that things which are said to be made by nature are the work of divine art, and that things which arc made by man out of these are work of human art. And so thcre are two kinds 01 making and production, the one human and the other divine.

Plato. Sophist, 265A

3 Athcnron 9ron,qar. I a m alraid that rve have uncon- scioully lighted on a strange doctrine.

Clcininr. What doctrine do you mean? Alh. T h e wisest of all doctrines, in the opinion of

many. Cle. 1 wish that you would speak plainer. 11th. The doctrine that all things do hecomc,

have bcromc, and will bccomc, some by nature, some by art, and some by chance.

Clc. Is not that true? Alh. Wrll. philosophers arc probably right; a r

any ratr we may as well follow in their track, and examine what is the meani~tg 01 thcm and thew disciple.

Cl r . By all means. Alh. 'They say that the greatest and fairest

things are the work 01 nature and of chancc, the lesser of ar t , which. receiving lrom nature the grearer and primeval creations, moulds and fash- ions all those lesser works which ale generally termed artificial.

Cle. How is that? All, . I will explain my meaning still more clear-

ly. They say that fire and water, and earth and air, all exist by nature and chance, and nonc ol them by art, and that as to the h o d i s which come next in ordcr-carth, and sun, and moon, and sta-they have been created by means 01 these absolutely inanimate existences. The elements are severally movcd by chance and some inherent force according to certain affinities among them-+f hot with cold, or 01 dry with moist, or 01 soft with hard, and according to all the other accidental admixtures of opposites which have been formed by nccrsrity. Alter this fashion and in this manner the wholr heaven has bren crcated, and all that is in the hcaven, as well as animals and all plants, and all the seasons come lrum these elc- ments, not by the action of mind. as they say, or 01 any God, or from art, but as 1 was saying, by nature and chance only. Art sprang up afterwards and out of these, mortal and 01 mor~a l birth, and produced in play certain images and very partial imitations of the truth, having an allirlity to one

another, such as music and painting create and their companion arts. And there are other arts which havc a serious purpose, and these co-oper- ate with nature, such, lor example, a medicine, and husbandry, and gymnastic. And thcy say that politics cooperale with nature. but in a less de- grec, and have more of art; also that legislation is entirely a work 01 art. and is based on assumptions which are not true.

Plato, Lnrur. X. 8888

4 0 1 t l l ing that exist, some exist by nature, some lrom other causes.

'By nature' thc animals and their parts exist, and the plants and thc simplc bodies (earth, lire, air, water)-lor wc say that thcse and thc like exist 'by nature'.

All thc rhings mentioned present a feature in which they diller from rhings which are nor consti- luted by nature. Each 01 them ha5 rudhin irrcl/ a ~r inc ip le of motion and ol stationarincss (in respect of place, or 01 growth and decrease, or by way 01 alteration). O n (he other hand, a bed and a coat and anything rlse of that mrt. qua rccciving these designat ionsr .e . insolar ar they arc products of an-have no innate impulse to change. But insolar as they happen to be composed of stone or ol earth or of a mixture of the two, they do have such an impulse, and just to that extent- which secmr to indicate that nnlurc ir a source or cour OJ hcmg mowd cznd o j h&ng 01 re11 m that lo ruh~ch 11 bclony pnmarrly, in virtuc 01 itself and not in virtue ol a concomitarlt attribute.

Aristotle, Phystcr, 1 9 2 4

5 0 1 things constituted hy nature some are ungencr- aced, imperishable, and etcrnal, while others are subject to generation and decay. T h e f o ~ m e r are exccllcnt beyond compare and divine, but less ac- cessible to knowledge. T h e evidence that m i ~ h t throw lixht on them, and on the problems which we long to solve respecting them. is lurnished but scantily by sensation; whereas respecting perish- able plants aud animals we have abundant inlor- mation, living as we do in thcir midst, and ample data may be collected concerning all their various kinds, if only we are willing tu take suflicient pains. Both dcpartments, however, have their special charm. The scanty conceptions to which we can attain of celestial things give us, from thcir excellence, more pleasure than all our knowledge 01 the world in which we live; just as a half glimpsc 01 persons that we love is more delightful than a leisurely view of other things, whatever their number and dimensions. On the other hand, in certitude and in completeness our knawledg a1 terrestrial things has the advantage. Moreover, thcir greater nearness and alfinity to us balances somewhat thc loltier interest 01 the heavenly things that are the objects 01 thc higher philoro- phy. Having alrcady trcarrd of the celestial world, as lar a our conjectures could reach, we proceed

iVnLure and lhu Cosmos

to treat ol animals, without omitting, to the best ol our ability, any member of the kingdom, however ignoble. For if some have no graces to charm the sense, yet even these, by disclosing to intellectual perception the artistic spirit that dcsigned them, give immense pleasure to all who can trace links ol causalion, and are inclined to philosophy. In- deed, it would be strange if mimic representations of them were attractive, because they disclose the mimetic skill of the painter o r sculptor, and the original realitier themselves were not more inter- esting, to all a t any rate who have eyes to discern the reasons thar determined their formation. We therelore must not recoil with childish aversion lrom the examination ol the humbler animals. Every realm of nature is marvellous: and as Hera- clitus, when the strangen who came to visit him lound him warming himsell a t the lurnace in the kitchen and hesitated to go in, is reported to have bidden them not to be afraid to enter, as even in that kitchen divinities were present, so we should venture on the study ol every kind ol animal without distaste; for each and all will rcveal to us something natural and something beautilul. Ab- sence ol haphazard a n d conduciveness of everything to a n end are to be lound in Nature's works in the highest degree, and the resultant end ol her generations and combinations is a lorm of the beautilul.

If any person thinks the examination of the ren ol the animal kingdom a n unworthy task, hemust hold in like diwsteem the study ol man. For no one can look a t the primordia ol the human Irarne-blood, flesh, bones, vessels, and the like- without niuch repugnance. Moreover, when any one of the parts o r structures, be it which i t may, is under discusion, il must not be supposed that it is its marerial composition tc, which attention is being directed or which in the object ol the discussion, but the relation of such part to the tolal lorm. Similarly, the true object ol architecture is not bricks, mortar, o r timber, but the house; and so the principal object of natural philosophy is not the material elements, but their composition, and the totality ol the lorm, independently ol which they have no existence.

Aristotle, Purrr of A n h a i r , 644''21

6 4 general ~ r i n c i ~ l e must here be noted, which will be lound applicable not only in this instance but in many olhets that will occur later on. Na- ture allots each weapon, ollensive and delensive alike, to those anirnals alone that can use it; or, if not to them alone, to them in a more marked degree; and she allots i t in its most perlrrt state to thase that can u.w it best; and this whether it be a sting. o r a spur, o r horns, or tusks, or whar i t may ol a like kind.

Aristotle, I'nrt~ of Anirnnls, 661 "28

7 Nature creates n o ~ h i n g without a purpose, but al-

ways the best possible in each kind of living creature by relerence to its e w n t i a l const i t~~t ion. 4c- cordingly if one way is better than another that is the way ol Nature.

Aristotle. On rhr Call of Animals, 704b16

8 Nature flies lrom the inlinite, lor the inliniie is unending or imperlect, and Nature ever seeks a n end.

Aristotle, Cenrrol~on of Antmols, 715"15

9 T h e monstrosity belongs to the class of rhings contrary to Nature, not any a n d every kind ol Na- ture, but Nature in her usual operations; nothing can happen contrary to Nature considered as eternal and necesary. but we speak ol t h i n g being contrary to her in thme cases where things generally happen in a certain way but may also happen in another way. In lact, even in the case ol monstrosities, whenever things occur contrary indeed to the cstablished order but still always in a certain way a n d not a t random. the result seems to be less ol a monstrosity because even that which is contrary to Nature is in a ccrtain sense nccord- ing to Nature, whenever, that is. the formal nature has not mastered the material nature.

Aristotle, Cenrrallora of Animolr, 770b10

10 T h e observed lac& show that nature is not a serics ol episodes, like a bad tragedy.

Aristotle, Metnphj.~irs, IOW"19

I I Darkness ol mind must be dispelled not by the rays ol the sun and glitterins shalts ol day, but by the aspect and thc law ol nature; the warp of whose design we shall begin with this first principle, nothing is ever Sotten out ol nothing by divine power. Fcar in sooth holds so in check all mortals, because they see many operations go on in earth and heaven, the causcs ol which they can in no way understand, believing them therelore to be done by power divine. For these reasons when we shall have seen that nothing can be produced lrom nothing, we shall then more correctly ascer- tain that which we are seeking, both the elenlents out ol which every ~ h i n g can be and rhc manner in which all things are done without the hand of the gods.

Lucretius, .Vatare of 7hing.r. 1

12 All nature . . . as it exisrs by itsell, is lounded on two t h i n g : there are bodies and there is void in which thew bodies are placed and through which they move about.

Lucretius, Nature of Thtngs, I

13 You should desire with all your might to shun the weakness, wirh a lively apprehension to avoid the mistake ol supposing that the bright lights ol the eyes were made in order that wc mighl see; and that the tapering ends 01 ihe shanks a n d hams are

19.1. Nature and the Nat~iml ) 1 1 73

attached to the feet as a base in order to enable us to step out with long strides; or again that the forearms were slung to thc stout upper arms and ministering hands given us on each side, that we might be able to discharge the needlul duties 01 life. Other explanations of like wrt which men give, one and all put ellect lor cause through wronpheaded reasoninp; since nothing was born in the body that we might use it, but that which is born begets lor itsell a use: thus seeing did not exist belore the eyes were barn, nor the emplny- ment 01 speech ere the t o n y e was made; but rather the birth of the tongue was long anterior to language and the c a n were madc long before sound was heard, and all the limbs, I trow, existed belore there was any employment for them: they could not therelore have grown lor thc purpux of beinp used. But on the other hand cngaging in the strile ol battle and mangling the body and srain- ing thc limbs with gurc were in vogue lonp before glittering darts ever flew; and nature prompted to shun a wound or ever the lelt arm by the help 01 ar t held u p belare the person the delence 01 a shield. Yes and consigning the tired body to r a t is much older than a soft-cushioned bed, and the slaking 01 thirst had birth belore cups. These things therelore which have been invented in ac- cordance with the uses and wants ol life, may well be believed to have becn discovered lor the purpose 01 being used. Far otherwise is it with all those things which first were horn, then al- tewards made known the purposes to which they might be put; a t the head a l which class we see the senses and the limbs. Wherefore again and again I repeat, it is quite impossible to believe that they could have been made for the duties which they discharge.

I,ucretius, Nalurr o j Th in@, I V

I4 Bur, ere we stir the yet unbroken ground. T h e various course of seasons must be found; The weather, and the setting of the winds, T h e culture suiting to tbe several kinds 0 1 seeds and plants, and what will thrive and rise, And what the genius of the soil denies This ground with Bacchus, that with Ceres, suits: T h a t other loads the trees with happy fruits: A fourrh, ~ , i t h gras unbidden, decks the ground. Thus Tmolus is with yellow salfron crowned: India black ebon and white ivory bean; And solt Idom6 weeps her od'rous team. Thus Pontus sends her beaver-stones lmm far; And naked Spaniards temper steel for war: Epims, lor the Elean chariot, b rcch (In hopes ol palms) a race 01 running steeds.

This is the original contract; these t h e laws Imposed by Nature, and by Naturc's cause, O n sundry places, when Deucalion hurled His mother's entrailr on the d w r t world; Whence mcn, a hard laborious kind, were born.

Virgil, Georgia, I

15 Some steep their secd. and some in cauldrons boil, With vigorous nitre and with lees of oil. O'er gentle fires, the exuberant juice to drain, And swell the flattering husks with fruitful grain. Yet is not the suecess for yean awured, Though chosen is the seed, and lully cured. Unless the peasant, with his annual pain, Renews his choice, and culls the largcst grain. Thus all below, whether by Nature's curse, O r Fate's decree, degenerate still to worse. So the boat's brawny crcw the current stem, And, slow advancing, struggle with the stream: But il they slack their hands, or cease to strive, Thcn down the flood with headlong haste they

drive. V i r ~ i l , C t o q i c s , I

16 You may drive out nature with a lark, yet still she will return.

Horace. E p ; ~ i l r s , I, 10

17 Nature which gowrnr the whole will s o n change all things which thou seest, and out 01 their substance will make other things, and again other things from the substance 01 thcnr, in order that the world may be ever new.

Marcus Aurelius, McdrLllGnr, VII, 25

18 Nature alone has the power to expand a body in all directions sa that it remains unruptured and preserves completely its previous lorm. Such then . . is growth, and it cannot occur without the nutri- ment which llows to the part and is worked u p Into it.

Calen, .Volurot Facuilirs, 1, 7

19 It has been made clear in the preceding discussion that nutrition occurs by an alteration or assimila- tion ol that which nourishes to that which receives nourishment, and that there exists in every part of the animal a faculty which in view ol its activity we call, in general terms, alterative, or, more spc- cilically, assimilative and nutritive. . . .

Our argument has clearly shown the necessity lor the ~enesis 01 such a laculty, and wl~wver has an appreciation of logical scquencc must be lirmly penuaded from what we have said that, il it be laid down and provcd by previous demonstration that Naturc is artistic and solicitous for the animal's welfare, it neccsarily lollows that she must also passes a faeulty of this kind.

Galen, Natural FamAics, 111, 1

20 T o You, then, evil utterly is not-and not only to You, but to Your whole creation likewise, evil is riot: because there is nothing over and above Your creation that could break in or derange the order that You imposed upon it But in certain of its parts there are some things which we call evil k- cause they do not harmonize with other things; yet these same things do harmonize with still

Nolure nnd /he Cosmos

others and thus are good; and i n themselves they are good. A l l these things which do not harmonicc w i th one another, do suit well with that lower part of creation which we cal l the earth, which has its cloudy and windy sky in some way apt to it. God forbid that I should say: "1 wish that these things were not"; hecause even if 1 saw only them, though I should want better things, yet even far them alone 1 should praise You: far that You are to be praised, things of earth showdragonr, ondoll deeps,fire, hail, mow, iicr, ond rlamy wind$, which fuijll Thy word; mounlains and 011 hillr, Jmil/ul trcrr ond all ctdorr; bras& ond all callle, rerpmlr and fcalhc-rc-d fowl; kings of fhr carfh and 011 PtopIe, pnitces and aN judgu of thr corfh; young ntm ond rnoidmr, old rnm and young, P ~ O U C Thy nomc And since from the heavens, 0 our God, 011 Thy angels praLc n e e m ihr high plocrr, and all T l y has&, m n ond moott, dl the rbrs and lighb, ihc heavmr of hraumr, ond lhc wolerr that arc oboor fhc hem- mr, prnirc Thy n o m c l no longer desired better, because I had thought upon them al l and wi th clearer judgement I realized that while certain higher things are better than lower things, yet a l l things together are better than the higher alone.

Aupustine, Confcrrionr, V11, 13

21 This cause . . . of a good creation, namely, the goodness of God-this cause, I nay, so just and lit, which, when piously and carefully weighed, ter- m i n a t e a l l the controversies of those who inquire into the origin of the world, has not b e n recag- nized by some heretics, because there are, for- sooth, many things, ruch a3 fire, frost, wi ld beasts, and so forth, which do not suit but injure this rhin-blowled and [rai l mortalit" of our flesh, which i s at present under just punishment. They do not consider how admirable these things are i n their own places, how excellent i n their own na- tures, how beautifully adjusted to the rest of creation, and how much grace they contribute to the universe by their own cnntr ibut io~~s us to a com- monwealth; and how serviceable they are even to ourselves, i f we use them wi th a knowledge of their fit adaptation-so that even poisons, which are destructive when used injudiciously, become wholesome and medicinal when used in confomi - ty w i th their qualities and dmign; just as, on the other hand, those things which give us pleasure, such as food, drink, and the l ight of the sun, are found to be hur t fu l when immoderately or unsea- sonably used. And thus divine providence admon- ishes us not foolishly to vituperate things, but to investigate their ut i l i ty wi th care; and, where our mental capacity or inf irmity is at fault, to believe that there k a util ity, thaugh hidden, as we have experienced that there were other t h i n q which we al l but failed to discover.

Augustine, Ctly of Cod, XI, 22

22 In natural things spccies Seem to bc arrangcd in degrecs; as the mixed things arc more perfect than

the elements, and plants than minerals, and animals than plants, and men than other animals; and i n each of these one species is more perfect than others. Therefore, as the divine wisdom is the cause of the distinetion of things for the sake of the perfection of the universe, u, is i t the cause of inequality. For the universe would not he perfect i f only one grade of goodness were found i n things.

Aquinas. Summo Tl~hcalogtca, I, 47. 2

23 God and nature and any other agent make what is hen i n the whole, but not what is best in every single part, except i n order to the whole. . . . And the whale itself, which is the univcne of creatures, is better and more perfect if some things in i t can fail in goodness, and do sometimes fail, God not prwent ing this.

Aquinas, Sumnto Tlcologrca, I, 48, 2

24 But God knows well that nothing man may do W i l l ever keep restrained a thing that nature Has made innate in any human creature.

Take any b i rd and put i t in a cage And do your best affection to engage And rear i t tenderly wi th meat and drink O f all the dainties that you can bethink, And always keep i t cleanly ar you may; Although i t s cage of gold he never sa gay, Yet would this bird, by twenty thounand-fold, Rather, within a forest dark and cold, Go to eat worms and a l l ruch wretchedness. Far ever thk b i rd wi l l do his business 'I'o find some way to get outride the wires. Above all things his freedom he desires.

O r take a cat, and Iced him well w i th mi lk And tender flesh, and make his bed of silk, And let h im see a mouse go by the wall; Anon he leaves the mi lk and flesh and a l l And every dainty that is in that house, Such appetite has he to eat a mouse. Desire h a y here its mighty power shown And inborn appetite reclaims its own.

A she-wolf also has a vulgar mind; The wretchcdest he-wall that shc may find, O r least of reputation, she'll not hate Whenever she's dnimus of a mate.

A l l these examples spcak I of these men Who are untrue, and not of sweet women. For men have aye a lickerish appctite O n lower things to do their base delight Y'han on their wives, though they be ne'er so fair And ne'er so true and ne'er so debonair. Flesh is so fickle, lusting beyond meayurc, That we in no one thing can long have pleasure Or virtuous keep more than a l i t t le while.

Chaucer, Cotrlerbury Taltr: Manciple's Tale

25 We should . . . follow the wisdom of nature. which, as i t takes very great care not to have produced anything superfluous or useless, often prc-

19.1. Nature and the Natural 1 1 175

lers to endow one thing with marly effects. Copernicvs, De Rmoislionibus, 1, 10

2b Ponlngmd T h e writings of abstinent. abstemious, and long-lasting hermits wcre every whit as salt- less, dry, jejune, a n d insipid, as were their bodies when they did compose them. It is a most dillicult thing lor the spirits to be in a g m d plight, serene and lively, when there is nothing in the body but a kind ol voidness and inanity; seeing the philosophers with the physicians jointly alfirm, that the spirits, which are styled animal, spring lrom, and have their constant practice in and through the arterial blood, refined, and purified to the life within thc admirable net, which, wonderlully Iramed, lieth under thc ventricles and tunnels of the brain. He gave us also the example ol the phi- losopher, who, when he thought most seriously to have withdrawn himself unto a solitary privacy, lar from the rustling cluttermenls ol the tumultu- ous and conlused world, the better to improve his theory, to contrive, comment and ratiocinate, was, notwithstanding his uttermost endeavours to free himself lrom all untoward noises, surrounded and environed about so with the barking ol curs, bawl- ing of mastilfs, bleating ol sheep, prating of par- rots, tattling ol jack-daws, grunting of swine, girn- ing ol boars, yelping o l loxes, mewing 01 cats. cheeping ol mice, squeaking 01 weasels, croaking ol frogs, crowing ol cock , cackling ol hens, calling of partridges, chanting of swans, chattcring ol jays, peeping ol chickens, ringing ol l a r k , creak- ing ol g e w , chirping ol swallows, clucking ol moor-lowls, cucking of cuckoos, bumbling ol bees. rammage ol hawks, chirming ol linnets, croaking of ravens, screeching ol owls, whicking of pigs, p s h i n g of hogs, curring of pigeons, grumbling ol cushet-doves, howling of panthers, curkling ol quails, chirping ol sparrows, crackling ol crows, nuzzing of camels, whining ol whelps, buzzing of dromedaries, mumbling ol rabbits, cricking ol fer- rets, humming of wasps, nlioling ol tigers, brurz- ing of bears, sussing ol kitling, clamoriny ol scarles, whimpering of lulmarts, booing ol bufla- 10s. warbling of nightingales, quavering ol meavis- es, drintling ol turkies, coniating ol storks, trant- ling ol peacock, clattering ol magpies, murmuring of etock-doves, crouting of cormo- rants, cigling of locusts, charming of beagles, p a r r i n g ol puppies, snarling ol mcssens, rantling ol rats, guericting ol apes, muttering ol monkics, pioling of pelicans, quacking of d u c k , yelling of wolves, roaring of lions, neighing ol horses. bar- ring of elephants, his ing of serpents, and wailing ol turtles, that he was much more troubled, than il he had been in the middlc ol the crowd at the lair ol Fontenay or Niort. Just so is it with tllose who are tormented with the grievous pangs of hunger. The stomach begins to gnaw, and bark as it wew, the e y a to look dint, and the veins, by greedily sucking some relection to themselves lrom the

proper aubstancr ol all the members ol a llc5hy consistence, violently pull down and draw back that vaprant, roaming spirit, carelas and ne- glccting of his n u m and natural host, which is the body; as when a hawk upon the fist, willing to take her llight by a soaring alolt in the open spa- ciaus air, is on a sudden drawn back by a leash tied to her lcet.

Rabelais, Car,pnluo and Ponrognld, 111, 13

27 When 1 play with my cat, who knows il I am nut a pastime to her more than she is to me? Plato, in his picture of the golden agc under Saturn, counts among the principal advantages ol thc man 01 that time the conununication he had with the beasts; inquiring ol them and learning lrom them, he knew the true oualities and diflerences ol each one ol them; whereby he acquired a very perlect inielligence and and conducted hie lile lar morc happily than we could possibly do. Do we need a better prool to judge man's impudence with regard to the beasts? . . .

This d e l c t that hinders communication between them and us, why is it not just as much ours as theirs? It is a matter ol guesswork whose lault it is that we do not understand one another; for we do not understand them any rnore than thcy do us. By this same reasoning they may consider us beasts, as we consider them.

Montaigne, E~royr, 11, 12, Apology lor Raymond Sebond

28 There is no apparent reason to judge that the beasts d o by natural and obligatory instinct [he same t h i n g that we do by our choice and clevcr- ness. We must inler from like results like lacultis, and consequently con ies that this same reason, this same method that we have lor working, is also that ol the animals. Why do we imagine in them this compulsion ol nature, we who lcel no similar eflect? Besides, it is more honorable, and closer to divinity, to be p i d e d and obliged to act lawfully by a natural and inevitable condition, than to act lawfully by accidental and lortuitous liberty; and saler to leave the reins ol our conduct to nature than to ourselves. T h e vanity of our prrsurnption makes us preler to owe our ability to our powers than to nature's liberality; and we enrich the other animals with natural goods and renounce them in their lavor, in order to honor and ennoble ourselves with goods acquired: a very simple no- tion, it seems to me, for I should prizejust as high- ly graccs h a t were all mine and inborn as those I had gone begging and seeking Iron) education. It is not in our power ro acquire a fairer recommen- dation than to be lavored by God and nature.

Montaigne, Ess<v?yr, 11, 12, Apology for Raymond Sebond

29 It is one and thc same nature that rolls its course. Anyone who had formed a competent judgment of its present state could infcr from this with cer-

1 1 76 ( Chapter 19. Nature a n d ihe Costnos

tainty both all the future and all the part. .Montaigne, E~says. 11, 12, Apology

for Raymorld Sebond

30 We a l l contrary to namre what happenscontrary to custom; nothing is anything but according to nature, whatever it may be. Ler this universal and natural reasor) drive out of us the error and aston- ishment that novelty b r i n g us.

Montaigne, Wvr, 11, 30, 0 1 a Monstrous Child

31 W e have abandoned Nature and we want to teach her hcr Inson, she who used to guide us so happiIy and so surely. And yet the tracer of her teaching and thc little that remains of her image-imprinted, by the benefit of ignorance, on the life of that rustic, unpolished m o b l e a r n i n g is constrained every day to go and borrow, to give its disciples models of constancy, innocence, and tranquillity It is fine to see these disciples. full of so much beautiful knowledge, obliged to imitate that stupid simplicity, and imitatc i t in the prima-

ry actions of virtue; and a fine t h i n that our sapi- encc learns from the very animals the most useful t each ine for the greatest and most necessary parts of our life: how we should live and die, husband our posrcssions, love and bring up our children, maintain justice-a singular testimony of human infirmity; and that this reason of ours that wr handle as we will, always finding same diveni- ty and novelty, leaves in us no apparent trace of Nature. And men have done with Nature as per- fumers do with oil: thcy have wphisticated her with so many arguments and farfetched reawn- irlgs that she has become variable and particular for each man, and has lost her own constant and u n i v e ~ l countenance; and we must x e k in the animals cvidrnce of hen. that is not subject to fa- "or, corruption, or diversity of opinion.

Montaigne, Es~ayr, 111, 12; Of Physiognomy

32 Let us give Nature a chance; she knows her busi- ncss better than wc do.

Montaigne, Ersoy, 111, 13, 0 1 Experience

33 When I dance, I dance; when 1 sleep. I sleep; yes. and when I walk alone in a beautiful orchard, if my though6 have been dwelling on extraneous incidrnts for some part of the time, lor some ather part I bring them back to rhe walk, to the or-

chard, to the sweetness of this solitude, and to me. Naturc has uberved this principle like a mother, that the actions she has enjoined on us for our need should also give us plearure; and she invites us to them not only rhrough reawn, but also through appetite. It is un,just to infringe her laws.

Montaigne, Essyr, 111, 13, O f Experience

34 Duke Sm,or. Hath not old custom made this life more sweet

T h a n that uf painted pomp? Are not these woods More free from peril than the envious court? Here feel we but the penalty of Adam, The s e w n $ ' diffcrcnce, as the icy fang And churlish chiding of the winter's wind, Which, when it bites and blows upon my body F.vrn till I shrink with culd, I smile and say "This is no flattery: these are counsellon T h a t feelingly persuade me what I am." Sweet are the uses of advcnsicy, Which, like the toad, ugly and venomous, W e a n yet a precious jewel in his head; And this our life exempt from public haunt Finds tongues in trees, books in the running

brooks, Sermons in stones, and gmd in everything.

Shakespeare, As You Like It, 11, i, 2

35 Arnimr. (sings1 Under the ?reenwood trcc Who loves to lie with me, And turn his merry note Unto the sweet bird's throat.

Come hither, come hither, come hither: Here shall hc sce

No enemy But winter and rough weather.

S h a k c s ~ a r e , A r You Ltke It, 11, v, I

36 Cons. And how like you this shepherd's life, Ma5te.r Touchrrone?

Touchrlon~. Truly, shepherd, in respect of itsclf, i~ is a good life; but in respect that it is a shepherd's life, it is naught. In respcct [hat it is solitary, I like it very well; but in respect that it is privntc, i r is a very vile lile. Now, in respect it is in the fields, i r pleaseth me well; but in respect it is not in the court, it is tedious. As it is a spare life, look you, i r fita my lhurnuur well: but as there is no more plenty in it, i t goes much against my r r o m ~ ach.

Shakespcarc, A3 You Likr /L, 111, ii, I I

37 Edmund I 'hou, nature, art my goddess; to thy law My services are bound. Whercfarc should I Stand in the plague of custom, and permit The curiosity 01 nations to deprive me. Far that I am some twelve or fourteen moonshincs Lag of a brother? Why bastard? wherefo1.e base? When my dimensions are as well cqmpact, My mind as generous, and my shape as true, A s honest madam's ,sue? Why brand they us With base? with bascnrs? basrardy? b a x , base? Who, in the lusty stealth 01 nature, take More composition and fierce quality Than doth, within a dull, stale, tired brd, Go to the creating a whole tribe of fops, Cot 'tween asleep and wake?

Shakespeare, L a r , I, ii, I

3R Kmf. Where's the King? Gmtlmm. C o n t e n d i n ~ with the fretful elemenr;

19.1. AraLure and [he Natural 1 1 177

Bids the wind blow the earth into the sea, O r swell the curled warem 'bove thc main, T h a t things might change or cease; tean his whire

hair, Which the impetuous blasts, with eyeless rage, Catch in their fury, and make nothing of; Strives in his little world of man to out-worn T h e to-and-fro-conflicting wind and rain. This night, wherein the cub-drawn bear w.ould

couch, T h e lion and the belly-pinched wolf Keep their lur dry, unbanneted he runs, And bids what will take all.

Shakespeare, Leo,, 111, i, 3

39 Lsor Blow, winds, and crack your cheeks! rage! blow!

You cataracts and hurricanes, spout Till you have drcnrh'd our stecplcs. drown'd the

tacks! You sulphurous and thought-executing fires, Vaunt-couriers to oak-cleaving thunderbolts, Singe my white head! And thou, all-shaking

thunder, Smitc flat the thick rotundicy o' the world! Crack nature's moulds, all germens spill a t once, T h a t make ingrateful man!

Fool 0 nuncle, court holy-watcr in a dry houw is better than this rain-water out o' door. Good nuncle, in , and ask thy daughtcrs' blessing. Here's a night pities neirher wirc man nor fool.

Leor. Rumble thy bellyful! Spit, fire! spout, rain1

Nor rain, wind, thundcr, fire, are my daughters. I tax not you, you elcmenls, with unkindness; I never gavc you kingdom, call'd you children, You owc me no subscription. Then let (all Your horrible pleasure; here I stand, your slave. A poor, infirm, weak, and despised old man: But yet I call you servile ministen, T h a t have with two pernicious daughters join'd Your high cngender'd battles 'gainst a head So old and white as this. 01 O! 'tis foul!

Shakespeare, Leor, 111, ii, I

40 Pndik. Sir, the ycar growing ancient, Not yet on summer's death, nor on the birth O f trembling winter, the fairest flowers o' the sea-

son Are our carnations and streak'd gillyvon, Which somc eall Naturc's bastards. Of that kind O u r rustic garden's barren; and I cam not T o get slips of them.

PoIlunts~ Wherefore, gentle maiden, D o you neglect thern?

Per. For I have heard it said There is an art which in their piedneu shares With great creating Nature.

Pol Say there be; Yet Nature is made better by no mean But Nature makes that mean; so, over that art

Which you say adds to Nature, is an art Tha t Nature makes. You see, sweet maid, we

marry A gentler scion to the wildest stock, And make conceive a bark of baser kind By bud 01 nobler race. This is an art Which d o a mend Nature, change it rather, but T h e art itself is Nature.

Pcr So it is. Pul. Then make your garden rich in gillyvors,

And d o not call them bastards. Shakespeare, Win&r's Tole, IV, iv, 80

41 Clmmonl. [sing] Still to be ncat, still to be dressed As you wcre going to a feast, Still to bc powdered, still perfumed; Lady, is it to be presumed, Though art's hid causes arc not found, All is not swcet, all is not sound.

Give me a look, give me a face, Tha t makes simplicity a gracc: Robes loosely flowing, hair as free-~ Such sweet neglect more takcth me, Than all th' adul ter ie of art. They srrike mine eyes, but not my heart.

Jonsan, Eprrmc, 11, i

42 The subdlty of nature is far beyond that of sense or of the undcrrtanding; so that the specious mcd- irations, speculations, and theories of mankind are but a kind of insanity, only there is no one to nand by and observc it.

Bacon, Nouunr Organum, I , 10

43 As in ordinary life every person's disposition, and the concealed feelings of the mind and passions are most drawn out when they are disturbed-so the secrets of nature betray thcmselver more read- ily when tormented by art than when left to their own course.

Bacon, Nouunr Organum, 1, 98

44 The empire of man over things is founded on the arts and scienccs alone, for nature is only to be commanded by obcying her.

Bacon, Novum Organ-, 1, 129

45 Easy is everything to nature's majesty, who user her strength sparingly, and dispenses it with cau- tion and foresight for the commencement of her works by imperceptible additions, but hastens to decay with suddenness and in full career. In the generation of things is seen the most excellent, the etcrnal and almighty God, the divinity of nature, worthy to be looked u p to with reverence; but all mortal things run to destruction of their own accord in a thousand ways.

William Harvcy, An~nral Gencralia, 41

46 If in the domain and rule of nature . . . many

1 178 1 Chapter 19. N a ~ u r e und fhe Corrno~

excellent operations are daily effected surpasrine the powersbf the things the;selves, what &all wc not think possible within the ale and reeimen of " nature, of which all ar t is but imitation? And if, as minisren of man, thcy c(lt.ct ruch admirable ends, what, 1 ask, may we not expect of them, when they are instruments in the hand of God?

William Harvey, Animal Gmcmrian, 71

47 There is no doubt that in all thlngs which nature teaches me there is some truth contained; for by nature, considered in general, I now understand no other thing than either God Himself or else the order and disposition which Gad has established in created things; and by my naturc in particular I understand no other thing than the camplexus of all the things which God has given rne.

Descartes, Mrdirarions on Firs1 Philu~uph~, Vf

48 Nature itself cannot en.. Hobbes. Leszothan, 1, 4

49 What reason may not go to School to the wisdom of Bces, Ants, and Spiden? what wise hand tcach- eth them to do what reason cannot tcach us? ~ d e r heads stand amazed at those pl.odigious pic== of Nature, W h a l n , Elephants, Dramidaries and Camels; these, 1 confess, are the Colossus and Majcstick pieces of her hand: but in these narrow Engines there is more curious Mathemalicks; and the civilily of these Little Citizens, more neatly sets forth the Wisdom of their Maker. Who ad- mires not Rcgio-Munlnnw his Fly beyond his Eagle, or wonders not more a t the operation of two Souls in those little Bodies, than but one in the Trunk of a Cedar?

Sir Thomas Brawne, Relkto Mrdici, I, I5

50 I hold there is a gerteral beauty in thc works of G d , and therefore no deformity in any kind or species of creatu1.e whatsoever: I cannot tell by what Logick wc call a Too4 a Bcor, or a n Elrfihnnl ugly, they being created in those outward shapes and figures which bcrt express the actio~ls of thcir inward lorms. And having past that general Visi- tation of God, who saw that all that he had made was g o d , that is, conformable to his Will, which abhors deformity, that is thc rule of order and beauty; there is no deformity but in Monstrosiry; wherein, notwithstanding, there is a kind of Beau- ry. Nature so ingeniously contriving the irreqular parts, as they become sometimes mo1.e remarkable than the principal Fabrick. 'To speak yet more narrowly, there was never any thing ugly or mis- shapen, but the Chaos; whercin, notwithstanding, to spcak strictly, there was no deformity, because no form; nor was i t yct impregnant by the voice of God; now Nature was not a t variance with Art, nor Art with Naturc, they being both servants of his providence: Art is the perfection of Nature: were the World now as i t was the sixth day, there

were yet a Chaos: Nature hath made one World. and Art anothcr. In brief, all things are artific~al: for Nature is the Art of God.

Sir Thomas Bmwne, Rclz,eio Mldrri, 1. 16

51 Nature has some perfections to show that she is the image of God, and some defects to show that she is only His image.

P a r a l , Pmricr, VIII, 580

52 1,owrmrr of vertuous Father vertuous Son, Now that the Fields are dank, and ways are

mire, Where shall we somctimcs mcct, and by the fire Help wast a sullen day; what may be won

From the hard Season gaining: time will run O n smoother, till Faooniu re-inspire The frozen earth; and cloth in fresh attire T h e Lillie a n d Ru%, tlmt neither sow'd nor

spun. What neat rcpast shall fcast us, light and rhoire,

Of Attick tast, with Wine, whence we may rise T o hear the Lute well toucht, or artfull voice

Warblc immortal Notes and T u h n Ayre? H e who of those delights can judge, and spare T o interpose them oft, is not unwisc.

Milton, Lou,rmcr o/ acrftrow Farher vcrluou Son

53 Raphael. Accuse not Nature, she hath don her part;

Do thou but rhine. Milton, Porndzrr Lorl, VIII, 561

54 The attempt . . . to show that naturc does nothing in vain (that is to say, nothing which h not pl.ofitable to man), seems to end in showing that nature, ihe gods, and man are alike mad.

Spinma, Wrcr, I, Appendix

55 It will douhtlrs Seem a marvellous thing 101. me to endeavour to treat by a geometrical method the vicer and follies o l men, and to desire by a sure rrcethad to demonstrate those t h i n g which these people cry out against as being opposed ro reason, or as being vanities. absurdities, and monstrosities. 'The following is my reason fa r so doing. Nothing happens in nature which can he attributed to any vice of nature, for she is always the same and everywhere one. Her virtue is the same, and her power of acting; that is to say, her laws and r u l a , according to which all things are and are changed from farm to farm, are everywhere and always the same; so that there must also be one and the same method of understanding the nature of all things whatsoever, that is to my, hy the universal laws and rules of nature.

Spinora, Efliicr, 111, Introduction

56 The custom of applying the words per/%[ and im- pcr/c<I lo natural objects has arisen rathcr from

19.1. ,Vnlurt and /he Natural 1 11 79

prejudice than from true knowledge 01 them. For . . . nature does nothing lor the sakc of an end, lor that eternal and infinite Bring whom we call God or Nature acts by the same necessity by which He exists; for . . . He acts by the samc necessity of nature as that by which He exists. 'The reason or cause, therelore, why God or nature acts and the reason why He exists are one and the same Since, therefore, He exists for no end, Mc a c u for no end; and since He has no principle or cnd of existence, H e has no principle or end of action. A final cause, as it is called, is nothing, therefore, but human desire. insofar as this is con-

sidered m the principle or primary cause ul anything.

Spinora, Elh,c~, IV, Preface

57 We are to admit no rrtore causes of natural things than such as arc both true and sufficient to er- plain their appearance-. To this purpose the philosophers say that Naturc d o a nothing in vain, and more is in vain when less will serve; lor Na- ture is pleased with simplicity, and aflrtlts not the pomp 01 superfluous causs .

Therefore to the same natural elfects wc inust, as far as possible, assign the samc causes. .& to respiration in a man and in a beast: tile descent of scones in Europe and in America: the light of our cul inaq firc and 01 the sun; the reflection ol l igh~ in the earth, and in thc planets.

Newton, Pr~niipla, 111, Rules 1-2

58 There arc never in nature two beings which are exactly alike.

Leibniz, Monodoloey, 9

59 Nature makes many brlrculor thirdg, which do agrce one with another in many sensihlc qualiries, and probably tm in their internal framc and constitutio~,: but it is not this rral emncc that distinguishes them into species; it is men who, tak- ing occasion lrom the qualities they find united in them, and wherein they obsetvc olten several individuals to agree, range thcm into sons, in order to their naming, for the convenience 01 compre- hensive signs; undcr which individuals, accord in^ to their conformity to this or that abstract idea, come to be ranked as undcr ensigns: so that this is ol the blue, that the red regiment; this is a man. that a drill: and in this, I think, consists the whole business of genus and species.

Locke, Concerning Human llndcrstnnd;r,fi Hk. 111, VI, 36

60 You will say, Hath Naturc no share in #he production of naiural things, and must they bc all a r r ibed to thc immediate and sole operation of God? I answer, i f by Nolure is meant only the visible srrkr of eHects or sensations imprinted on our minds, according to cermirl fixed and gencral laws, then it is plain that Naturc, taken xn this

sense, connot pioduce anything a t all. But, il by Nnlurr is meant scrlrle being dtstinct from God, as well as from the laws 01 nature, and tlrings per- ceived by sense, I must confers that word is to ine an empty sound without any intelligible meaning annexed to i t Nature, in this acceptation, is a vain chimera, introduced by thosc heathens who had not just notions ol the omniprcscnce and infinite perfection of God.

Berkeley. Prinoplcr oJ Humon Kno~ulrdgt, 1 :)0

61 Such is thc artificial contrivance of this inixhty machine 01 nature that, whilst its motions and various phenomena strike on our s~n.szs, the hand which actuates the whole is itself unperccivable tn men or f leh and blood.

krkeley. Pnnrlplrr oj IIrrninn Knowlcd~c, 151

6 2 All are but parts of one stupendous whole, Whose body Nature is, and CIcd the soul; Thar, chang'd thro' all, and yet in all the same, Great in the earrh. as in th' ;rthereal frame, Warms in the run, refreshes in the breeze, Glows in the tars, and blossonls in the trees, Lives thro' all life, extends thro' all cnlent, Spreads undivided, operatrs unspent, Breathes in our soul, in form our mortal part, As lull, as perfect, in a hair as heart; As full, as perfect, in vile Man that mourns. At the rapt Seraph that adores and burns; 'To him oo high, no low, no great, no small: He fills, he in,unds, connects, and equals all.

Pope, Essg on Man, Epistle I, 267

63 It seems evident rhal, rl all the scenes of nature were continually shilled i r l such a manner that no two events bore any resemhlaitcc to each other, but every object war entirely new, without any similitude to whatever had been aeco k fo re , rve should never, in that case, have attained the least idea 01 necessity, or of a conncxiorr amon!: t hcu objecu. n'e might say, upon such a supposition, that one objcet or event has lollowed another; not that onc was produced by the other. The relation of causc and ellecr must be utterly unknown ro mankind. lnferrnce and reasoning concernins the operations of naturc would, lrom that moment, be a t an end: and the mcrnory and senses remain the only canals, hy which the knowledge of any real existence cauld pns5ibly havc access to the mind. Our idea, therelore, of necmity and causation arises entirely lrom the unilormity ohsctvablc in the operations of nature, where similar objnts arc constantly conjoined together, and thr mind is dc- tcrrnined by custom to inler the one from the appearance of the other.

Hume, Concmm,n,~ Humnn iinder$ondmg, VIII, 64

64 7hc Wilorophrr. Wc arc curious. I want to know how being so crude in you, mountains, in your

1 180 j Chapler 19. Nolure and lhe Cosn~o~

deserts, in your seas, you appear nevertheless so industrious in vour animals, in vour veeetabler? .

Nolure. My poar child do you want me to tell you the truth? I t is that I have been given a name which d w s not suit me; my name is "Nature", and I a m all art.

Phil. That word upsets all my ideas. What! nature is only art?

No. Yes, without any doubt. Do you not know that there is an infinite ar t in those seas and those mountains that you find so crude? d o you not know that all those waten gravitate towards the centre of the earth, and mount only by immutable laws; that those mountains which crown the earth are the immense reservoirs of the cternal snows which produce unceasingly those fountains, lakes and rivers without which my animal species and my vegetable species would perish? And as for what are called my animal kingdom, my vegetable kingdom and my mineral kingdom, you see here only three; learn (hat I have rnillionsof king- doms. But il you consider only the lormation of an insect, 01 an ear of corn, ol gold, of copper, ev- crything will appear as marvels 01 art.

Phrl. I t is true. T h e more I think abour it, the more I see that you are only the art 01 I know not what most potent and industr~ous great being, who hides hinrscll and who makes you appear. All reasoners since Thales, and probably long before him, have played a t blind man's blull with you; they have said: "I have you!"and they had nothing. We all resemble Ixian; he thought he wm kissing Juno, and all that he poswssed was a cloud.

No. Since 1 a m all that is, how can a k i n g such as you, so small a part of myscll, scize me? Bc content, a t o m my children, with sceing a lew at- oms that surround you, with drinking a lew drops 01 my milk, with vegetating lor a few momcnts OII

my breast, and with dying without having known your mother and your nnr .x

Phrl My dear mother, tell me something 01 why you exist, ol why there is anything.

N o . I will answer you as I have answered for so many centuries all those who have intrrrogated me about lint ~rinciples: 1 KNOW NOTHING ABOUT THEM.

Phll Would not non-cnistcnce be brttcr than this multitude 01 existences made in order to be continually dissulved, this crowd 01 animals born and reproduced in order to devour others and to h e devoured, this crowd 01 sentient beings lormed lor so many painful sensations, t h a ~ other crowd 01 intelligences which w rarely hear reason. What is ihc goad of all that, Nature?

No. Oh! go and ask Him who made me. Voltaire, Philosophrcnl Dtclronay Nature

65 While the earth was lelt to its natural Iertility and covered with immense lorests, whose rrecs were never mut i la t~d hy the axe, it would present on

every side both sustenance and shrltrr for every species of animal. Men, dispersed u p and down amons the rest, would observe and imitate their industry. and thus attain cvzn to the instinct of the beasts, with the advantage that, whereas every species of brutes was conlined ta one particular instinct, man, who perhaps has not any one peculiar to himself, would appropriate them ail, and live upon most 01 those diflerenr fmds which other animals shared among themselves, and thus would find his sulaistence much more easily than any ol the rest.

Accustomed from their infancy to the inclem- encies of the weather and the rigour 01 thc reasons, inured to lati,pgue, and forced, naked and un- armed, to delend themselves and [heir prey lrom other lerocious animals, or to ercape them by [light, men would acquire a robust a n d almost un- alterable constirution. The children, bringing with them into the world the excellenr constitution of cltcir parents, and lortilying it by the very exercises which l in t produced it, would thus acquire all the vigour 01 which the human lrame is capable. Nature in this case treats them exactly as Sparta treated the children 01 her citizens: those who come well formed into the world she renders strong and robust, and all the rest she destroys: differing in this respect from our modern commu- nitics, in which the State, by making children a burden to their parents, kills them indirrimi- natcly &fore they ale horn.

Rousseau, Ongirl of I n e p o l i ~ , 1

66 Give civilised man timc to gather all his nracltines about him, and hc will no doubt easily beat the savage; but il you would scc a still more unequal contest, set them together naked and tnnarmcd. and you will s o n see the advantage 01 having all our lorces constantly at our disposal, of being always prepared lor every event, and of carrying one's sell, as i t were, perpetually whole and entire ahout one.

Rousseaul Origcn oJ lnrpuolit~, I

67 We should beware . . . ol conlounding the wvage man with the men we have daily belore our eyes. Nature treats all the animals left lo her rare with a predilection that seems to show how jealous she is 01 that right. T h e horse, the cat. the bull. and even the a s are generally 01 greater stature, and always more robust, and have more uigour. strength and courage, when they run wild in the lorcsts than when bred in the stall. By becoming domesticated, they lose hall thesc udvantagrs; and i t seems as il a11 onr carc to Ieed and treat them wcll serves only to deprave them. It is thus with man also: as he becomes sociable and a slave, he prows weak. timid and setvile; his eficminate way of lilt totally enetvates his strength and courage. To this i t may be added chat there isstill a greater diflerrnce brrwrcn savage and civilised man, than

19.1. Nnlure and !he

between wild and tame beasts: for mcn and brutes having been treated alike hy nature, rhc several conveniences in which men indulge themxlves still more than they do theu beasts, are FO many additior~al cauvs of their deeper dexeneracy.

Rousxau, Orifirr of Inepunlr$, 1

68 The General [Paolil said, that in a state of nature a man and woman uniting togrrher, would form a strong and constant aflpction, by thc mutual pleasure each would receive: and that the samc r:auses 01 dimntion would not arise betwpen them, us a- c u r between husband and wife i n a civilized stare. Johnron. "Sir, they would have disentians enough, though ol another kind. One would choose to go a hunting in this wood, the other in that; one would choose to go a lirhing in this lake, the other in that; or, perhaps, one would choose to 50 a huut- ins, when the other would choorr to go a lishing; and so they would part. Besidcs. Sir, a sa\.age man and a s a v a p woman meet by chance: and when the man acea another woman that pleases him bel- ter, he wdl lcave the lint."

Boswcll, Lqc ofJohraon (Mar. 31, l i i 2 j

69 All is distinguished from rtnlurp ur making is lrom acting or operating in general, and the product or the result ol the forrner ir distinguished lrom that of rllr latter as work from ope,nrio~.

By right it is only production through lreedom, i.e., chrou~h an act al will that places reason at the basis of its action. that altould be termed irr. For, although we are pleased to call what bees produce (their reaularly eonrtituted cclls) a work 01 art, we only do so on thc s t r en~ th of an andory with an; that is to say, as soon as we call to mind chat no ratinual deliberation lorms the basis ol their labour, n.c say ac once that it is a product ol their nature (of instinct), and it is only to their Creator that we ascrihc it as art.

Kant , Cn'lipur 4 Ae~thet,cJudg~nzml, 41

70 Nxture proved beautiful when it wore thr appear- ancc of art; and a r t can only be termed hcoutljui, where we arc conscious of its being art, while yet it has the appearance of na tux .

Kant, Cn'figur oJArslhetir Judgmml, 45

71 Far the purpose of keeping strictly within its own bounds physics entirely ignores the qucrtion whethcr physical ends arc ends d<ri,pcdb or tlndr-

~ @ e d b . To deal with that question would be to meddle in the affairs of others--namely, in what is the husincsr ol metaphysics. Sulfice i t that there are objects who= one and only crplunalion is on natural laws that we are unahle to conccivc otherwise than by adapting the idea 01 ends an principle, objects which, in their intrinsic form, and with nothing rraore in view than their antcrnal re- lations, are rognlrablr it> this way alone. It is true that in teleology we speak of nature as if its linali-

ty were a thing of design. But to a\,oid all suspi- cion of presuming in the slightest to mix up with our sources ol knowledge somethins that has no place in physies a t all. namely a supernatural cause, we reler to design in such a way that, in the same breath, we attribute this design to nature, that in, to matter. I-[ere no r m m is left lor misin- terpretation, since, obviously. no one would as. cribc desrgn, in the proper scnsr: uf the term, to a lifeless material. Hencr our real intention is to indicate that the word drryn, as here u x d , only aig- nilies a principle ol the reflective. and not of ihc dctcrminant, judgement, and consequently is not meant to introduce any special ground 01 causality, but only to asirr the employment ol reason by supplementing investigation on mechanical laws by the addition of another method ol investigation, so as to make up for the inadequacy ol the former even as a method 01 rmpirical rcscarch that has lor its o b j ~ c t all particular laws ol nature. 'Therefore, when teleology is applied to physic%. we speak with perfect justice of the wisdom, the economy, the lorethought, the beneficence of nature. But in so doing we do nor convert nature into an intelligent hcing, for chat nuuld be ab- surd; but neither do we dare to think of plauiug another being, one that is intelligent, above n a ~ ~ u r c as its architect, lor that would bc extrava- gant. O n tllr contrary, our only intention is to designate in this way a kind ol natural causality on an a n a l o e with our own causality in the tech- nical employment of reason, for the. purpose of keeping in view the rule upon which certain natural products are to be investigated.

Kant, Criligur of Ttlrolo,cl J d 68

72 Karure is lor us nothing but cxisrencc in all its freedom; i t is the constitution ol t h i n ~ s rnkcn in themselves; it is existence itself according to its prolxr and immutable laws.

Schiller, Stmpla oad Smlin~orlnl Poelry

73 We see . . . in nature. destirure of reason, only a sister who, more lortunate than ourselvrs, h x re^

mailled under the maternal mml, while in the in- toxication of our freedom wc have fled from i l to throw ourselves into a stranger world. We regret this place ol safety, we carneatly long to come back to it as soon as we have bcprr~ to feel the hitter side ol civilization, and in the totally artificial lile in which we are exiled we hear in deep emotion the voice of our mother. While we wrre still only children of naturc we were happy, we werr perfect: w e have become lree, and we have lost both advantagr . Hence a twofold and very unequal longing for nature: thc loogirlg lor happl- uess and the longing lor the perfeetion that pre- vails there. Man, as a sensuous being, deplorcs rnsibly the loss ol the former of these pods; i t is only thc moral man who can be alllicted at the loss ol the other.

Schiller, SIinpIr orrd Smlimmmtol Pmlry

1 182 / Chapler 19. iValure and fhe Cosmoi

74 As long a man dwells in a state of pure nature (1 mean pure and not coarse naturej, all his being acts a t once like a simple sensuous unity, like a harmonious whole. T h e sensa and reason, the re- ceptive faculty and the spontaneously active faculty, have not been as yet separated in their re- spective Functions; a fortiori they are not yet in contradiction with each other. Then the feeling of man are not the formla5 play of chance; nor are his thoughts an empty play of the imagination, without any value. His feeling proceed horn the law of necesity, his thoughts from reality. But when man enters the stale ol civilization, and art has fashioned him, this sensuous harmony which was in him disappears, and henceforth he can only manifest himself as a moral unity, that isl as aspiring to unity. The harmony that existed as a lact in the former state, the harmony of feeling and thought, only exists now in an ideal state. It is no longer in him, bu! out of him; it is a conccp- tion ol thought which he must begin by realizing in himself; it is no longer a fact, a reality of his life.

Schiller, Stmplc and Snllin~anrol P o r ~

75 And did tho.= feet in ancient time Walk upon England's mountains green?

And was the holy Larnb of Cod O n England's pleasant pastures seen?

And did the Countenance Divine Shine forth upon our clouded hills?

And was Jerusalem builded here Among these dark Satanic Mills?

Bring me my bow of burning gold! Bring ntc iny arrows of derire!

Bring me my spear! 0 clouds, unfold! Bring rnc my chariot of lire!

L will not cease from mental light. Nor shall my sword sleep in my hand,

Till we have built Jerusalem In England's green and pleasant land.

Blake, iMrllon

76 The pride of the peacock is the glory of Gad. The lust of the goat is the bounty of God. T h e wrarh of the lion is the wisdom of God. The nakedness 01 woman is the work of God.

Blake, Mornage oJ Herum and Hell, 8

i 7 And so I dare to hope. Thaugl! changed, no doubt, from what I was

when first I came among rhese hills; whcn like a roe 1 bounded o'er the mountains, by the sidui Of th? deep rivezs, and the lorlcly streams, Wherever nature led: more like a man Flying from something that he dreads, than one Who sought the thnng hc loved. For nature tllen

(The coarser pleasures of my boyish days, And their glad animal movements all gone by) To me was all in all.-I cannot paint What then 1 wan. The sounding cataract Haunted me like a passion: the tall rock, The mountain, and the decp and gloomy wood, Their coloun and their lorms, were then to me An appetite; a kcling and a love, That had no need of a remoter charm, By thought supplied, nor any interuit Unborrowed lrom the eye.-That time is past, And all i ts aching joys are now no more, And all its dizzy raptures.

Wordsworth, Knlm Abbcy, 65

78 1 have learned T o look on nature, not ar in the hour Of thoughtless youth; but hearing oftentimes The still, sad music of humanity, Nor harsh nor grating, though of ample power T o chasten and suMue. And I have felt A nresence that disrurbs me with the iov 0 1 rlcvatcn though~s: a u.nw ruhli~nc 0 1 uunething far morr drrply intrrfuwo \Vhosc dwcllene i\ I n r llehl 01 srlltne suns.

7

And the round ocean and the living air, And the blue sky, and in the mind of man; A motion and a spirit, that impels All thinking things, all ohjertsbl all thought, And rolls through all things. Therelore am I still A lover of the meadows and the woods, And mountains; and of all that we behold From this green earth; of all the mighty world Of eve, and ear,-both what they hall create, And what ~ercc ive ; well pleased to recognix In nature and the language 01 the sense, The anchor of my purest thosights, the nurse, The guide, the guardian of my heart, and soul 0 1 all my moral being.

Wordsworth, T;nim Abbq, 84

79 Nature never did betray The heart that loved her; 'I is her privilege, Through all the years of this our life, to lead From joy to joy: lor she can so inform The mind that is within us, so imprev With quictuels and beauty, and so feed With lofty thoughts. that neither evil tongues. Ruh judgments, nor the sneers of sellish men, Nor greetings where no kindness is, nor all Thc drcary intercourse ol daily life, Shall e'er prevail against us, or disturb Our chccrful lairh, that all whlch we behold I s lull of blesringr.

Wordsworth, Znkm Abbcy, 122

80 A slumber did my spirit seal: I had no human fears:

She seemed a thing that could not feel T h e touch of earthly yeam.

No motion has she now, no force; She neither hears no, sees;

Rolled round in earth's diurnal course, With rocks, and s tona , and trees.

Wordsworth, A Slr~mbrr Did ,Uv S/lml Stal

81 Love had he found in huu where poor men lie; His daily teachcrs had bcen woods and rills, The silencc that is in the star? sky, The sleep that is among the lonely hills.

Wordsworth, Son,q of the Fhst oJ ArorrShon Chsllr, 161

82 Then sing, ye Birds, sing, sing a joyous sans1. And let the young 1,asnbs bound A s to thc tabor's mund!

We in thought will join your thronp, Ye that pipe and ye thar play, Ye that throuph your hearts to-day Peel the $adne.s of the May!

What though the radiance which %,as once so briglst

Br now for evcr taken from my sighr, Though nothing can bring back the hour

O l splendour i n the grass, of glory in the flower; We will grieve not, rather find Strength in what rcmains behind: In the primal sympathy Whieh having been must ever be; I n the oothing thougl~cs that spring Out ol hunran suffering; In the faith that Looks through dearh,

In years that bring the philmophic mind. Wordworth, Ode: Iniimottonr ~ J t m r n o r ~ n h ~ , X

83 And hark! how blithe the thrmtle sings! Hc. too, is no mean preacher: Come forth into the light ol things, Let Nature be your teacher.

She has a world of rcady wealth, Our minds and hean* to bleu- Spontaneous wisdom breathed by hcaltl~, Truth breathed by cheerlulness.

One impulse lrom a vernal wuud May teach you more 01 man,

O f moral evil and of good, Than all the sapes can.

Sweet is the lore which Nature brings; Our meddling intellec~ Mis-shapes the bcauteocs Iorrns 01 things.- We murder to disrect.

Enough 01 Science and of Art; Cloac up those barren leavcs; Come hrth, and bring with you a heart Tha t watches and rcreiver.

Wordsworcln, 7 h r Tabla Turned

84 Earth has not anything to show more fair.

Dull would hr he of wol whu could pass hy A sight so tnuching in its majesty: 'l'his City now doth, like a garment, wear The beauty ol the morning; silent, bare, Ships, towers, domes, theatres, and temples lie Open innto rhr fields, and to the sky; All hright and glittc~ing in the smokeless air. Never did sun more beautifully steep In his first splendour. valley, rock, or hill; Ne'er saw I, never lelt. a calm SO deep! 'The river glideth at his own swcet will. Dear Cod! the very houses seem asleep; And all that mighty heart i s lying still!

Wordswotth, Compared l ipon Wtslminsttr Dndxt, SepI 3, 1802

85 The world is tw much with us; late and soon. Getring and spendinp, we lay wartc our powers: L i~ t l r we sec in Nature that is ours; We have giver) our hearts away, a sordid hoon! The Sea that bare* hct bosom to tile moon; The winds that will be howlins at all hours, And are tupqathered now like sleeping flowers; [.'or this, for everythirq, we are oltt of tunr; It m o x s us not.--Great God! I'd rather be A Pagan suckled in a creed outworn; So might I, standing un this pleasant lea, Have glimpses that would makc me less lorlorn: Have sight of Proteus rising from thc sea; Or hear old Triton blow his wrearhbd horn.

Wordsworth, 7 6 c World lr Tml Mt~rh L+'~tilta I.:,; Lolr and Soon

86 Nature is thc term in wl~ich we comprehend all things that are representable in thc farms 01 rime and space, and subjectd to the reialionr 01 cause and ellect: and the caust of the existence of which, therefore, is ro he sought lor perpetually in srnething alttccedent.

Coleridge, Aids lo K(lc</ln

87 Hail to thee. blithe Spirit! Bird thou nevcr welt,

That from Heaven, or near it, Pourrrt thy full heart

In pro l~se strains uf unpremeditated art.

htrrr than all measures Of dclighllul sound,

Berter than all treasures Tha t in honks are found,

'Thy skill to poet were, thou scorner of thc giuund!

Teach me hall the gladness That thy hrain must know,

Such harmonious rnadnrss Fmm my lips would llow

TILL. world should listen then-as I am listening now.

Shelley, TD o Skjlork

88 There is a pleasure in the pathless woods,

lure and /he Cosrnw

There is a rapture on the lonely shore, Thcrc is suciety where none intrudes, By #he deep Sea, and music in its roar: I love not Man the less, but Nature more, From these our interviews, in which I steal From all 1 may be or have been before, T o mingle with the Universe, and [eel

What I can ne'er rxpreu, yet can nor all conceal.

Roll on, thou deep and dark blue Ocean, roll! Ten thousand lleets sweep over thee in vain; Man marks the earth with ruin, his control Stops with the share; u p n the watery plain The wrecks are all thy deed, nor doth remain A shadow of man's ravage, save his own, When, lor a moment, like a drop of rain, He sinks into thy depths with bubbling groan,

Witltuut a grave, unknell'd, uncollin'd, and unknown.

Byron, Childc Harold's P~lgn'may, IV, 178-179

(19 1 cannot see what flowers are a t mv feet. Nor what soft incense hanss upon the boughs,

But. in embalmed darkncs~, rues. each sweet Wherewith the seasonable month endows

T h e g r m , the thicket, and the lruit-tree wild: Whitc hawthorn, and the pastoral eglantine:

Fast fading violets covcr'd up in leaves; And midMay's eldrsr child,

T h e coming musk-rose, lull of deny wine, The murmurous haunt of flies on summer

eves

Keats, Ode 10 a A'i~hftngolc

90 O Maker of sweet poets, dear deliqhl Of this fair world, and all irs p n t l e livers; Spangler of clouds, halo ul ctystal rivers, Mingler with leaves, and dew and tumbling

streams, Closer ol lovely eyes to lovely dreams, Lover 01 lonelines, and wandering, 0 1 upcast eye, and tenilrr pondering! Thee must I praise above all other glories Tha t >mile us on to tell delightful stories. For what has made the sage or poet write But the fair ol Nature's light?

Kears. I Slaod Tipfoe Upon n Lilll~ Hill, I IG

91 in the ltiscory of the world, the idea of spirit ap- pears in its actual embodinlent ar a series of exrer- nal formr, each one of which declaro itself as an actually existing people. This existence f a l l under the category of time a5 well as space, in the wav of natural existence; and the special principle. which every world-historical people ~mbudies, has this principle a t the same time as a r~afurnl cha rac~ teristic. S ~ i r i t . clothinp. itsell in this form of na- . . turr, suffers its phases to assume sepa- rate existence: for mutual exclusion ir Ole mode of

diainetions must be lirst 01 all regarded as special passihilitia, front which the spirit of the people in question germinates, and among rhem is the geo- graphical basis. It is not our concern to becunlr acquainted with the land occupied by nations ar an cxternal locale, but with the natural type ol the locality, as intimately connected with the type and character of the people which is the uflspring of such a mil. This character is nothing more nor I-* than the mode and form in which nations make their appearance in history, and take place . . and position in it. Nature should not be rated too high nor t m low: the mild Ionic skv certainly con- trFbuted much to the charm oi the ~ o m e r i c poems, yet this alone can prodme no Homers. Nor in f a n does it continue to produce them; under Turkish government no bards have arken. We must l im take notice ol tho= natural conditions which have to be excluded once lor all from the drama of the world's histury.

H e ~ e l , Ph~lorophy 9/ Hirlov, Intro.

92 Man with his necessities sustains a practical rcla- tion to external nature, and in making i t satisfy his desires, and thus using it up, has reeourse to a system ol mtonr For natural objects are powerful and oiler resistance in various ways. In order to subdue them, man introduces other natural agents; thus [urns nature against itsell, and in- vents inr(mmmr~ for this purpose. These human in- ventions belong to spirit, and such a n instrument is to be respected more than a mere natural object.

Hegel, Phllo~ophy q/ Hzsloy, Pt. 11, 11. 1

93 11 we look a t the inner nature of . . - sports, we shall first observe how sport itself is opposed lo

serious busin-, to dependence and need. This wrestling, running, contending was no serious al- lair; bespoke no obligation ol defence, no nmeai- ty 01 combat. Serions occupation is labour that has reference to s m e want. I or nature must suc- cumb; if the one is to continue, the other must fall. In contrast with this kind olseriousness, however, sport prerents the higher seriousnes; for in il nature is wrought into spirit. and although in thesr contests thc subjcct has not advanced to the highest grade al serio~zs thought, yet in this erer- cise ol his phr ica l powers, man shows h i freedom, u L , that he has tranrlormed his body to an organ 01 spirit.

He3el, Pkiloiophy o/H;xro~, Pt. 11, 11. 1

94 T h c chief objection I have to Pantheism i s that it says nothing. T o call the world "God" is not to explain it; it is only to enrich our lanpuage with a superlluous synonym lor the word "world."

Schopenhauer, A Fee, Wovds on Partlhc;~m

eristence proper to mere nature. Thew natural 95 Nature, which is the Time-vesture ol Cod, and

19.1. Naltcre nnd itte h'nlural 1 1185

rcveals Him to the wise, hides Him from the fool- ish.

Carlyle, So~lor Rernrtvr, 111, H

96 Nature will not have us fret and fume. She does not like our benevolence or our learning much bcttcr than she likes our frauds and wars. When we came out 01 the caucus, or the bank, or the Abalitian-convention, or the Temperance-meet- ing, ur tllc Transcendental club into the fields and woods, she says to us, 'So hot? my little Sir.'

Ernerran, Spirilunl Lowr

97 Therc is no great and no small T o the Saul that makcth all: And wherc it comelh, all t h i n g are; And it cometh everpuherc.

E m e m n , Thr In/ormmg Sptril

98 ?'he stars awaken a certain reverence, becatla though always present, they are inaccesible; but all natural objects rnakr a kindred impression, when the mind is open to their influence. Nature never wean a mean appearance. Neither does the wirest man extort hcr scclet, and lme his curimity by finding out all her perfection. Nature never became a toy to a wise spirit. The flower, the atlimals, the mountains, rcflccted the wisdom of his best hour, as much as they had delighted the simplicity of his childhood.

Ernelson. Nnlure, I

99 One can scarcely think upon the subject of atmos- ~ h e r i c magnetism withnut having another great question suggested to the mind: What is the Iinal purpow in nature of this magnetic condition of the atmosphere. and i t s liability to annual and diurnal variations, and its entire loss by enterins into combination either in combustion or rerpira- tion? No doubt there is one or more, for nothinp is superfluous there. W e find no remainden or sur- plusage of action in physical forces. The smallen provisiorl in as essential as the grearert. Nnnc is deficient, none can be spared.

Faraday, Expmimraloi Reseorrhrr tn

ElictriciQ, XXVI, 2968

100 T h e wish, that of the living whole No life may fail beyond rhe grave, Derives 11 not from what we have

T h e likest Cod within the soul?

Are Cod and Nature then at strife, T h a t Nature lends such evil dreams? So careful 01 the type she seems,

So caneles of the single life.

T h a t I , considering everywhere Her secret meaning in her deeds, And linding that of fifty seeds

She ohen brings but one to bear,

I falter where I firmly tmd,

And falling with my weight of cares Uoon the ereat world's altar-stairs "

That slope thro' dal.knes up to Cod,

I stretch lame hands of faith, and grope, And gather dusl and chaff, and call T o whal I feel is Lard of all,

And faintly trust the larger hope.

'So carelnil ol the type?' b u ~ no. From scarped cliff and quarried stone She cries, 'A thousand types are gone;

I care lor nothing. all slaall 50.

'Thou makest thine appeal to me. I bring to life, I bring to dcath; The spirit docs but mean the brcath:

1 know no mare.' And he, shall he.

Man, her last work, who rccm'd so lair, Such splendid purpme in his eyes, Who roll'd the pralm to rvintly skies,

Who built him far~es or fruitless prayer,

Who trusted Cad was lave indeed And love Creation's final law- 'I'ho' Nature, red in tooth and claw

With ravine, shriek'd against his creed.

Who loved, who sufler'd countlcs ills, Who battled for the True, the Just, Be blown abour the desert dust,

0 1 real'd within the iron hills?

No more? A monster then, a dream. A discord. Dragons of the prime, T h a t tare each other in their slime,

Were mellow music match'd with him

O lib as futjle, then, as frail! 0 lor thy voice to soothe and bless! What hope of answer, or redress?

Behind the veil, hchind the veil. Tennyson, In Mrtrtonim, LV-LVI

101 1:loxer in thc crannicd wall. I pluck you out of the crannies, I hold you here, roar and all, in my hand. Lirtle flower-but $1 could understand WIlat you are, root and all, and all in all, I should know what Gad and man is.

Tennyson. FIowo in the Cronnied Wall

102 Ahnb. 0 Nature, and 0 soul of man! how far beyond all utterance arc you, linked analogies! not the smallest atom sGn or lives on matter, but h a its cunning duplicate in mind.

Melville. Moby D~ck, LXX

103 The West of which I speak is but another name for the Wild; and u h a l I have been preparing to say is, that in Wildness is the preservation of the World.

I'horeau, W~lktng

1 186 1 Chapfn 13. Nafurt. ond lhe Cosrnos

104 A child said What zr thc gmss.' lct~hittg it to me with lull hands,

How could I answer the child? 1 du not know what it is any more than he.

I - p e s it must be the llag 01 my disposition, out of hopelul green stuff woven.

Or I guess it is the handkerchiel ol the Lord, A srrnted gilt and rcrnembranrcr designedly

dropt, Bearing the owner's name someway in the cor-

ners, that we may see and remark, and say Ivh".re~> . . .

And now it seems to me the beautiful uncut hair ol graves.

Whitman, Song. o/My~cI/, V1

105 1 believe a leaf of grass is no less than the joumry- work ol the stars,

And the pismire is equally perfect, and a grain of sand, and the egg 01 the wren,

And the tree-toad is a chef-d'cruvre for the highest,

And the running blackberry would adorn the par- lors ol heaven,

And the narrowest hinge in my hand puts lo \corn all machinery.

And the cow crunching with depres'd head sur- palscs any statue,

And a >nouse is miracle enough to staggcr sextil- lions of inlidcls.

Whitman, Son! afh$,.nlf, X X X l

106 In due time the evolution theory will have to abatc its vrlarrnence, cannot be allow'd to dami- nate everything else, and will have to take i a place as a segmmt ol the circle, the cluster-as but one ol many theories, many thoughts, ol pro- foundcrt value-and readjusting and dillerentiat- ing much, yet leaving the divine secrets just as inexplicable and unreachable as kfore-maybe more so.

Whitmart, NDI~S Lcjl Oun

107 I n lwkinq at Nature, it ir must nrcessary . . . never to forget that every single organic being ma" be said to be striving to the utnrwt to increase in numbers; that cach lives by a struggle a t some period of its life; that heavy dcstructiun in- evitably lalls either on thc young or old. during each generation or a1 recurrent intervals. L i ~ h t c n any check, mitigate the destruction evcr so littlc, and the number of tlle species will almost instan- taneously increase lo any amount.

I>awin , Origrn oj Sp~prrier, 111

108 It has been said that I speak ol natural selection as a n active power or Deity; but who objects to an author speaking of the attraction of ~,ravity as rul- ing the movements of the planets:' Every one

knows what is meant and is implied by such meta- phorical expressions; and they are almost necessary lor brevity. So again it is diflicult to avoid p e ~ n i l y i n p l the word Nature; but I mean by Na- ture. only the aggregate action and product of many natural laws, and by laws the sequencr of events as ascertained by us.

Darwin, Orign of Spec&, IV

109 As man can produce, and certainly has produced, a great result by his methodical and unconscious means of selection. what may not natural selection effect? M a n can act only on external and visible characters: Nature, if I may he allowed to

personify the natural preservation or survival of the fittest, cares n o t h i n for appearance?, rxccpt in so far as they are useful to any being. She can act on e v e n internal orsan. on every shade of constitutional difference, on the whole machinery of life. Man selects onlv lor his own eood: Nature only lor that of the being which she tends. Every selected character is fully exercised by her, as is implied by the fact of their selection. Man keeps the natives ol many climates in the same munuy; he seldom exercises each selected character in some peculiar and fitting manner; he leeds a long and a short beaked pigeon on the same food; he does not exercise a long-backed or long-legged q u a d r u ~ c d ill any peculiar manner; hc exposes sheep with long and short wool to the same eli- mate. He docs not allow <he most vigorous males to struggle lor the females. He does not rigidly destroy all inlcrior animals, but protects during each varying season, as far as lies in his power, all his productions. He oftcn begins his selection by some half-monstrous lorm; or at least by some modilication prominenr enough to catch the eye or to be plainly useful to him. Under nature, the slightest d i l f r r~ncer of structure or constitution may well turn the nicely balanced scale in the rtrusgle far lile, and so be preserved. How fleetins are the wishes and cflorts ol man! how short his time! and consequently how poor will be his re^

sults, compared with those accumulated by Na- ture during whole geological periods! Can w e wonder, then. that Nature's productions should be lar "truer" in character than man's productions: that the" should be infinitely better adapted lo the most complex conditions of life, and should plainly bear the stamp ol lar higher workman- ship?

Darwin. Orixin o/ Sprcits, IV

110 It is scarcely ~oss ib lc to avoid carnpar in~ the eye with a telescope. W e know that this instrument has been pcrlerted by thc long-continued effora oI the highest human intellccts: and we naturally i d c r that the eye has been formed by a somewhat analo,sous pnres.7. But may not this inference be prcsuntptuuus? Have we any right to a s o m e that the Creator works by intellectual powers like

19.1. Nulure u n d ihe

those of man? I1 we must compare the eye to an optical instrument, we ought in imagination to takc z thick layer 01 transparent tisue, with spaces filled with fluid, and with a nerve sensitive to light beneath, and then suppose every part 01 this layer to be continually changing slowly in density, so as to scparate into layers ol different densities and thicknesses, placed at dillzrent dis- tances lrom each other, and with the surlaces 01 each layer slowly changing in form. Further we must suppose that there is a power, represented by natural selection or the survival of the littest, always intently watching each slight alteration in thr transparent layem; and carelully preserving each which, under varied circumstances, in any way or in any degree, tends to produce a dirtinc- ter image. Wc rnust suppose each new state of the instrument to be multiplied by the million; each to be preelved until a better one is produced, and then the old ones t o be all destroyed. I n living bodies, variation will cause the slight alterations, generation will multiplv them almost infinitelv. . . and natural selection will pick out with unerring skill each irn~rovement. Let this ~roczss co on for u

millions ol yeaw; and during each year on millions of individuals of many kinds; and may we not believe that a living optical instrument might thus be lormed as superior to one of ~ L s s , as the works 01 the Creator arc ro those 01 man?

Darwin. Origm ~ j . s p ~ ~ i t : , V l

11 1 As natural selection acts solely by accumulaling slight, successive, lavourable variations, it can produce no great or sudden modifications; rt can acr only by short and slow steps. Hencc, the canon 01 ".Volurn nar/bcil ~ollunt," which cvery frevh addition to our knowledge tends to c:onlirm, is on thir theory intelligible. We can see why throushout nature the same general is gained by an almost iulinite diversity of means, for every pecu- liarity when once acquired is long inherited, and structures already modified in many diflercnt ways h a w robe adapted for the same general pur- ~ O S P . WC can, in short, see why nature is prodigal in varieej, tho t~sh n i g ~ a r d in innovation. Rut why this should be a law 01 nature if cach s p m i e has been independently creatcd nu man ean explain.

Darwin. O ~ i ~ i n ojSpc&~, X\'

112 It is au error to imagine that evolution signilies a constant tendency to incrcascd pcxlectiun. Thar process undoubtedly involves a constant rernodel- ling of the organism in adaptation to new conditions; but i t depends un the nature of those conditions whether the direction 01 the modilications elfectcd shall be upward or downward.

1'. H. Huxley, S f m ~ h j o r Exirlence m Hurnnrr Socicp

113 Thus we may ray that surplus value resu on a natural basis; but t h ~ s is perm~sib lc only in the

very general sense thar there is no natural obstacle absolutely preventingonr man from disburdening himself of the labour requisite for his own existence, and burdenins another with it, any more, lor instance. than unconqucrnble natucal obsta- cles prevent one man lrom eating the llesh of another. No mystical ideas must in any way be connected, as sontrtimes happens, with this historically developed productivenms 01 labour. It is only alter men have raised tl~emselves above the rank 01 animals, when, therelore, their labour h a been to some extcnt socialized, that a state 01 things arises in which the surplus labour nf the one becoma a conditinn ol existence lor the other.

Marx, Coptlol, Vol. I, \', 16

114 11 there are any marks at all of special design in creation, one 01 the things moat evidently de- signed is that a large proporliorl ul all animals should pass their existence in tormenting and de- vouring other animals. They have been lavishly littcd out with thc instruments necessary lor that purpase; their strongest instincts impel them to it, and many of them seem to have been const~ucted incapable 01 supporting themselves by ally other lood. I1 a tenth part 01 the pains which have been expended in linding bencvolenl adaptations in all naturc had been employed in collect in^ evidence to blacken the character ol the Creator, what scope lor comment wonld not have been found in the entire existence 01 the lower animals, divided with scarcely an exception into devoorets and devoured, and a prey to a lhousand ills lrom which they are denied the laculties necessary lor protecting themselves! I1 we are not obliged to believe the animal creation to he the work of a de- mon it is because we need not suppose it to have been made by a Being 01 inlinite power. Rut il imitation 01 rhe Creator's will as revealed in na-

ture were applied ar a rule 01 action in thir case, the most atrocious enormities ol the worst men would be more than justilicd by thc apparent intention of Providence that throughout all animat- rd nature the strong should prey upon the weak.

Mill, Nalure

115 The word nature has two principal meanings: i t either denotes the entire system of thinps, with the aggregate ol all their properties, o r it denotes things as they would be, apart from hurnan intervention.

In the l int 01 these senses, the doctrine that man ought to lollow nature is unmeaning, since man has no power to do anything else than lollow nature; all his actions are done through and in obedience to =me one or rnany of nature's physical or mental laws.

In thc other sensc of thc wrm, the doctrine that men ought to lollow nature or, in other words. aught to make the sponraneous course of things the mode! 01 his voluntary actions is equally irra-

1.9.2. The Nolure

W e should be inclined to believe that the h a m had starved, and that without a certain ration of oats no work could be expected from an animal.

Freud, O,tgin and Deu~lopmml OJ Pqcho-Anaiynr, V

122 I hope to enlist yaur interest in considering the apparently trivial errors made by normal people. 1 propose now that we question someone who has no knowledge of psycho-analysis as to how he ex- plains these occurrences.

His lint answcr k sure to be: "Oh. they are not worth any explanation; they arr little accidents.'' What does the m a n mean by this? Does he mean to maintain that there are any occurrences so small that they fall to come within the eausal sc- quence of things, that they might as well be other than they are? Anyone thus b r a k i n g away from the determination 01 natural phenomena, a t any single point, has thrown aver ihc whole scientific outlook on the world (Wellonrchnuurig). O n e may point out to him how much morc consistent is the religious outlook on the world, which emphatical- ly assures us that "not one sparrow shall fall to the

ground" except God wills i l . I think our friend would not be willing to lollaw his l in t answer to its logical conclusion, he would give way and say that if he were to study these things he would soon find some explanation of them.

Freud, Gmnal frrlrdudton lo P ~ C ~ O - A N O ~ S I ~ , 11

123 In Aristotle the conception of human nature is perfectly sound; everything ideal has a natural h a i s and everything natural a n ideal devel- opment.

Santayana, Llfi of Reoror,, 1. lntroductiort

124 Tha t the unification of maturcisrvcsrlual and the- oretical is a point uselul to remember: else the relation of the natural world to poetly, rnrtaphyr- ics, and religion will never becomc intelligible. Lalande, or whoever i[ was, who searched the heavens with his telescope and could find no God. would not have found the human mind if he had searched the brain with a microscope.

Santayana, Ltfe o/ Reason, I , 5

19.2 I The Nature of Life

Many of the passages collected here attempt to define the line that divides the living frorn the nonliving, and to enumerate the disrinr- tive properties of living organisms, such as nutrition, growth, and reproduction. Within the domain of the living, further distinctions are made between plant and animal life, by reference to sensitivity and local motion as characteristics of animals no1 found in plants. Some quotations speak of the scale of life, the gradations of vitality, rising little by little from the vegctative lcvel to more complex and more richly endowed forms of life; to which certain philosophers and theolo- gians add levels of life above the highest tcr- restrial forms-the pur-rly spiritual life of the angels and of God.

The reader will find some indicat~ons of

the ape-old controversy between the vitalists and the mechanists, the one maintaining that life involvcs principles or factors that have no counterparts in the realm of inanimate things or machines, the other count- ering with the view that the same rnechani- cal principles or factors that enable us to understand the operalion of inanimate things also explain thc processes of life. Cru- cial to this i w ~ e is Claude Bernard's introduction ol the concept of homeostasis--the internal equilibrium of a living organism. Only living things appear to have an inter- rral as well as an external environment, and are actively involved in the adjustment of the one to the other. In this connection it should also be pointed out that when soul is spoken of as the principle of life, it is not

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