THOUGHTS
ON TIIE
FUTURE CIVIL POLICY
OF
A M E R I C A.
JOHN WILLIAM  DRAPER, M.D., LL.D.,
PROFESSOR OF CIIEMISTRY AND PIIYSIOLOGY IN TIlE UNIVERSITY OF NE-W
YORK;
AUTIITHOR OF A;"TREATISE ON IIUMIAN PHYSIOLIOGY"
AND OF A
"; HISTORY OF THE INTELLECTUAL DEVELOPMIENT OF EUROPE.'
SECOND EDITION.
NEW YORK:
HARPER & BROTHERS, PUBLISIhERS,
FRANKLIN SQUARE.
1 8 6 6.
IlY 
Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year one thousand eight
hundred and sixty-five, by
HIAPRPER  &  BROTIIERS,
In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the Southern District of
New York.
Shortly will be publifhied, by the same Author,
A HISTORY OF"THE AMERICAN CIVIL WAR.
Three Volumes, 8vo. 
j!/ -K         -,, -  I  -   1.e r
I I.,.' _.'1.".
PREFACE.
IN a work on "The Intellectual Development of Europe,"
published in 1863, I showed that the historical progress of
the nations of that continent illustrates the fact that social
advancement is as completely under the control of natural
law as is the bodily growth of an individual.
It was my intention in that work to limit the application
of the principles employed to the case of Europe, but it is
plain that they may equally be made to apply to the case
of America.
Last winter, at the request of the New York Historical Society, I gave a course of four lectures for the purpose of
showing that application.
The favor with which my work on Europe had been received, a great many editions, reprints and translations, of it
having been called for in a short time, was again exhibited
in the case of these lectures, and I became satisfied that it
was desirable to give them a more permanent form.
Selecting, therefore, some of the more prominent principles thus presented, I design to show in this work their bearing, on certain questions of great political interest in America. The lectures delivered before the Historical Society
are here, of course, very much extended, the amount of mnatter having been almost quadrupled, and many new topics introduced. 
PREFACE.
Perhaps at the present moment, when the Republic has
reached one of those epochs at which it must experience important transformations, it may not be inopportune to direct
attention to the effects of physical agents and laws on the
advancement of nations. VWe are too prone to depreciate
their influence.
The aim of all science is prevision-the foretelling of the
future. Historical foresight is not denied to man. As the
Astronomer, from recorded facts, deduces the laws under
which the celestial bodies move, and then applies them with
unerring certainty to the prophesying of future events, so
may the Historian, who relies on the immutability of Nature,
predict the inevitable course through which a nation must
pass.
To appreciate the working of some of those natural laws
in the case of America, to divine the future tendencies of the
Republic, to extract from the observations we make rules for
national conduct-these are the objects to which the following pages are devoted.
NEW YORK, 1865.
PREFACE TO THE SECOND EDITION.
A VERY large edition of this work has been exhausted in
the course of a few weekls, and a second one is called for.
For this mark of public approval I return my sincere thanks.
In this edition I have not thought it desirable or necessary
to make any changes, except a few typographical corrections.
NEW YORK, October, 1865.
iv 
CONT  NTENTS.
CHAPTER I.
ON THE INFLUENCE OF CLIMATE.
Comm2)enze ) ci ith the stactement that Nations, like all theforms
of life, are transitory, the physical influences that  originate
ctnic destroy  those forms are considered.  And since plants
and aCninals are foenid to change helplessly itnc7er such in  flTences, they are therefore illustrations  of  the control of
UNIVERSAL LA.  A sp)eciactl inquiry is ma(ie as to the erects
of Clieiiete on the skini  a)d( sk ull of mnan, and on ]is i)hys  iccal anct  iiitellectual p})ocers.
Wheel followcs a brief toplograclhical (7escri)tion) of the IT))ited
States; the Climzate effects, A-orth and South, are considered,
an(cl the conclitions necessary to insure stability in the ])olit  ical institutions of the country are pointed out.  The general
i)fce e)rces are illustrated by historical cases, as those of Egypt
a)nd Asica.
The mainz conclusion brought into relief is, that PERSONAL LO COMrOTION can check the effects of Climate.   The inmportance
of thctt locomotion in the developmnent of the Americans Re pIzblic, and the necessity of legislation to encourage and se cuei- it, are insisted 2tpon..............  Page 9
CHAPTER II.
ON THIE EFFECTS OF EMIGRATION.
A(i))nitting the correctness of the division of Society into three
gra(tes, as established by Mfachiavelli, the efect arisin)g fr)os)
the em)igration of each of those grades is consi derel, and il  Ihestrations from) the history of Spain and Engla)cl examined.
The extinction of the Romans and cdifusion of the Arabs are
traced to their physiological caeses. 
cvtc  tcates.  jiie evils co ntinene it on thte spread of Polygamy,
acid the yenerctal eects of all these movemen ts on the weaclth
and gractzeter of the I?e)itblic, are shownf.... Page 93
CHAPTER III.
ON TIlE POLITICAL FORCE OF IDEAS.
Iclects act on macisses of nme;n in a clotible manznzer, so)zeti))es ex  er ting an im?pelling, sometimes a resisti)?g agency.
Tlhe 15pqlli)g power of I(leas is illustrated in thae case of Afo  hammeclanism, of w)hich the political developmnent as  attained
in  a.Ictin, and the Intellectual, cis manzifested in the I)hiloso  phy of Averroes, are clescribe(d.
The.Resistinig power of Icleas  is illuestrated( i  t(he case of the
Jews.   4. brief sketch is give)  of their history, thdei  sacre(1
writiygs, an(l the 2 )odcfleation)s i)nfpr8essed upon) themi by the
Persians, Greeks, ancd Arabs.   It is their lessictanic idea that
resists the i)?fluences of Con)qutest  a)d( Ti)ine, andapreserves the))
a sep)arate people a))2o)g all nations.
Jffa)) 9)ity co)i)rehend -Yature and(1 subjugyate physical forces.
U/(dler this.ldea imo(lern civilization is ac(lvancing.   It is il  lu(strate(1 by a sketch of certain scienitie discoveries  a(d uzse  fill i)nve)tio)s.
The ecclesiastical causes of the European opposition to Scien)ce
are explaIinied, a)cd t(he (ltty of A))merica to clevelop acnd rotect
free thought is eforeced(...........                     1.8 
CONTENTS.
CHAPTER IV.
ON THiE NATURAL COURSE OF NATIONAL DEVELOPMENT.
Tlhe Oryanization,.Developme)zt, and Governznent  of the Nat  itral World are shocnt to involve a contintual tend(ency to con  ceztration ofpowcer, and the conferri)ng of a domiiat  control
on Intelligence.
Th7isprinzciple appl)ies in the case of hutman societies &7~ring their
political (develop)zenit.  A comiparison is instituted between the
Etropeatn miethod of governent  thro?(gh the JMorals, and the
Aimerica~, of govern)menit tro?(tyh the Intellect.  It is illts  t)-ate(I by thle history of En)yland, takeo  as a typ)e of the for  n   and by the history of the United States, taken. as a tyl)e
of the latter.
It follows, front  the I.Stellecttail 9netwo(I adoptedl, that Amaerica
mniust be the scene of a futtcre con)flict of I(leas.   TJ7eir acc  tion, reaction, and 2 odacatios are allecled( to, and the scien  tic tendency to?tzity of opinion pointed ott.
A1)l finally, the analogies betceeo, the Italian ecclesiastical sys  ten) and the Anaerican civil system are referred to.
Tlhe genercal object of the chapter is to show that in all (urable
human associations there is a natural, an inevitable tenclewc?y
to thze concentration of power; and that, so far from  this be  i)g in antagonism? to clemnocractical institutions, it is their le gitim)iate and unavoicdable result......           Page 238
vii  
THOUGHTS
ON
AMERICAN CIVIL POLICY.
INTRODUCTION.
AT the close of the Civil War, which has ended in
the military vindication of the Great Republic, the
mninds of thoughtful men naturally turn to the Future.  An Imperial power  has come into existence
before our eyes. It rivals-perhaps, indeed, it already excels-in warlike resources the ancient monarchies of Europe.  There is before it a career of unparalleled grandeur, a splendid history, to be wrought
out on a greater scale than that of Rome.
What topics, then, are more worthy of public attention than those with which American statesmanship will now necessarily be called upon to deal?
With what else can the American reader, who has
faith in the Destiny of his Nation, more profitably
occupy himself? There are political problems of surpassing importance, for which solutions must now be
found. 
INTRODUCTION.
Having been occupied for many years in the study
of the Intellectual Development of Europe, I have
had occasion to observe the mianner in which many
of these problems have been solved on that continent.
There are principles specially applicable to each nation, which guide it in its determinations, and settle
the course of its life.
Some of these principles I propose now to point
out, selecting from many topics the four following:
INFLUENCE OF CLI3MATE,
EFFECTs OF EMIGRATION,
POLITICAL FORCE OF IDEAS,
NATURAL COURSE OF NATIONAL DEVELOPMENT,
and making these serve as a framework for the con.
venient presentation of those principles.
10 
CHAPTER I.
ON TIIE INFLUENCE OF CLIMATE.
Comm?eneing w(ith thle stategment thact  7aTtions, like all theforn)s
of lfe, are transitory, the  ])hysical itfltences that oriyi)acte
an(l dlestroy those form2s are consi(lerec7.  Andc since pla)nts
act)d ctnabial,s are foutnd to chanye hel)lessly under such ii fl(te)eces, they are therefore  illhtstration2s of  the control  of
U-NIVERSAL LAiw.   A  sl)eciacl inqttiry is mia(le acs to the efects
of Clinmate on the skiz and skull of  man, acnd on his phlhys  ical and intellectu'al pozeers.
Y7teni followes  a brief to)ogctraphlical (esc-ription of the Uniite(l
Stactes; the Cli2)mate effrects, ivorth ctand South, are consideree(l,
andl the cond(litions Necessary to insttre stability in the polit ical i    nstitution s of the country are pointecl o?t.   The ge)eral
iiferences are illastrated by historiccal cases, as tlhose of Egyly)t
ac)(l Asica.
27ie icait co2,clhtsion broutght into relief is, that PERSONAL LO COMOTION can check the effects of Climcate.   The i?l)po,tcance
of that locomotion in the (levelopmenet of the Anmericanc Rie public, and the necessity of leyislationi to encoztcirage aidl se cztre it, are insistecd tq)on.
NATIOXS, like individual men, are born andl diean unpalatable truth, for each tries to hide firom itself the contemplation of its final day. Each also
amuses itself with the delusion that, whatever mav
be the hapless lot of others, there is an immortal future in store for it.  But what does the inexorable
hand of History wnrite?  Rome, Macedon, Persia, Assyria, Egypt, all are gone. 
12       TRANSITORY CHARACTER OF NATIONS.
The waves of the ocean spring up, we know not
where or why. They come careering past us, the very
emblems of resistless power. They subside and are
lost among other succeeding waves. In like manner,
on the vast sea of human life, Empires mysteriously
emerge.  They raise their ephemeral forms conspicuously high, overwhelming whatever stands in the
way of their march.  They also subside and are lost,
but the unfathomed abyss of humanity still remains.
To the infinite expanse of the ocean belongs endless duration. Its waves are only temporary. The
forces that have impelled them into existence are
soon expended; an inevitable disappearance awaits
them. The material of which they are composed
may be eternal, but they themselves are only vanishing forms.
Vanishing forms! Such, too, are Nations emerging
from the mass of humanity.
Then it might seem to be of trifling.moment to
concern ourselves with the study of any one of them.
And so indeed it is, if we rise to the most elevated
point of view that history can occupy. No isolated
fact is of any intrinsic value in itself. It is its connection with other facts that gives it all its worth.
No sound, whatever its quality may be, can ever of
itself yield music; that arises friom the well-ordered
sequence of sounds. We only become conscious of
historical harmony through a presentment of success 
ANALOGY BETWEEN INDIVIDUALS AND NATIONS.  13
ive nations, varying in their form, their strength, their
duration.
With what a solemn emphasis does the Past impress upon us its monition that national life is thus,
in the necessity of circumstances, transitory!  How
vain it is to close our eyes to the portentous lesson,
to refuse to read what is written in the Book of Destiny!  How vain to try to persuade ourselves that,
though all other things in the world are disappearing, we are to be immortal! Permanence may belong
to humanity, but not to those forms into which, here
and there at intervals, humanity has been forced. A
succession of Nations is the consequence of the life
of the race, being manifestations of the varying ac,
tivity of groups of men. Life is the active, existence
the passive state. Life is evanescent, existence is endurinlg.
Such groups of men, thus with an inevitable fate
before them, may well desire, as does the individual
man, to postpone as long as possible their end. They
may legitimately seek to enjoy their existence while
it lasts-nay, more, to make it memorable.
The analogy between the life of an Individual and
of a Nation arises from a similarity in their constitution.  In the individual there must be unceasing
changes in the component parts. The appearance of
permanence is altogether an illusion. Physicians
sometimes say that the body changes completely in 
CHANGES IN INDIVIDUALS.
seven years. In truth, it changes far more quickly
than that. The particles of which it is composed are
continually becoming effete.  They must be removed,
and new ones introduced in their stead.  Such replacements are going on firom the moment of birth to
that of death; they occur by night as well as by day;
during sleep as well as when we are awake.  This
death of the constituent particles of a living being is
called interstitial death. It is the very condition of
life. It occurs in every part indifferently-in the
soft textures, as in the muscles or nerves; in the hardest, as bone.
Energy of life depends altogether on the rapidity
of these transmutations.  No motion can be accomplished without the wasting away of substance.  The
foot can not take a step, the finger can not be lifted,
the brain can not execute any intellectual act, without the death of a portion of its material.  As such
actions are more vigorous, the losses are greater. If,
then, the body is to be maintained in an unimpaired
condition, operations of renovation must needs be resorted to. On the removal of a particle that is dead,
a new one must be ready to take its place. With
rapidity and precision the process of transmutation
goes on, and in a very short time a completely renovated structure, identical in form, but changed as to
its constituents, is produced.
It is surprising on what an enormous scale these
14 
CHANGES IN NATIONS.
transmutations are carried forward. An adult man,
wveighing not more than 140 pounds, requires to be
supplied with nearly a ton and a half of material in
the form of food, water, and air, in the course of every
year, the larger portion of it being consumed in accomplishing these replacements. In the same period,
the same weight, that is, a ton and a half of material,
is dismissed from his system as dead or effete. The
aspect of identity he presents is therefore altogether
illusory. Particles are perpetually abandoning him,
and new particles are being perpetually introduced.
In a waterfall which retains its appearance for many
years unchanged, the supply from above continually
flowls in, and the precipitated portions below glide
finally and forever away. The waste is compensated
l)y the supply. In no other manner can the transitory matter exhibit a permanent form. The waterfall
is only a form which the flux of liquid assumes.
So in that collection of substance constituting uman,
or any animal, whatever may be its position, high or
low, in the realm of life, there is a perpetual introduction of new material and a perpetual departure
of the old.
And so, too, with Nations; they undergo unceasing
change. The death of an individual in them corresponds to the death of a particle in the Individual.
In the space of thirty or forty years-the period of a
generation, as it is often called-a complete replace
15 
PROGRESS OF NATIONS.
menit has occurred.  The men who were active have
all been removed; succeeding men have occupied their
places. If there has been a season of violent national
exertion, such as of war, the substitution has gone on
with greater rapidity. And yet, notwithstanding all
this change, the nation may still exist with all its essential lineaments unimpaired.  Like the man or the
waterfall, it is only a transitory form.
Nor does the analogy between an Individual and
a Nation end here.  A  similar, perhaps a more surprising parallelism is perceived when their modes of
growth are considered, for not alone in the incidents
of birth and death are they alike. As the former
pursues his way through the successive stages of infancy, childhood, youth, maturity, old age, so, as histoiW teaches, does the latter too. The Individual
helplessly and in a predestined manner runs through
these stages, being unable to modify their succession,
or to accelerate or retard their occurrence.  The Nation, also, in a like helpless and predetermined way,
moves through the same inevitable career. An unavoidable destiny rules over the progress of both.
That transitory permanence, if such a contradictory
expression may be used, which is equally seen in the
Nation, the Individual, the Waterfall, depends on the
invariability of external conditions. If they change,
it also changes, and a new form is the result.  In the
waterfall, if the jutting ledge over which the waters
16 
RELATIONS OF MATTER AND FORCE.
rush should break suddenly away, or if some new
obstacle interfere, the figure of the flowing sheet of
liquid will be remodeled.
I repeat with emphasis the significant remark, that
if external circumstances change, the transitory form
will change with them; for it leads us by a ready step
to the subject to which many of these pages are now
to be devotecl-the Influence of Climate on Man. To
this I therefore hasten, premising, however, some pre liminary thoughts and facts needful for its clear ap preciation.
A raini-dlrop descends from the clouds: that simple
phenomenon, like a thousand others we might consid er, teaches us that there are two existences with which
all exact science has to deal. They are Matter and
Force. The substance of which the rain-drop consists
might, if we chose, occupy our attention. We might
dwell upon the nature, the properties, the constitution
of water.  And then, again, we might consider what
is that power through the influence of which the drop
has come down firom the clouds, descending to the
earth. Our books of Natural Philosophy teach us to
call it gravitation: they speak of it as a Force. We
see, therefore, the truth of the remark, that there are
two things before us, Matter and Force.
Whence  came that matter, that drop of water?
Chemistry tells us that it was vaporized by the
warmth of the sun from the ocean, perhaps many
B
17 
VICISSITUDES OF MATTER.
thousands of miles away. As an invisible steam it
ascended through the air. Borne along by drifting
winds, it came at length to a space where the atmosphere happened to be cooler, and, here condensing,
lost the invisible and took on the visible form.  Now
it had become a portion of a cloud, ready to reflect
the glories of the departing day. As a raindrop it
then fell to the ground, soaking through the earthy
strata, to issue forth again in a gushing spring or
fountain.  In company with many others like itself,
constituting a flowing rill that emptied into larger
streams, it found through some river a return to the
sea from which it came.  After its many mutations,
after all the vicissitudes it had undergone, an inevitable destiny awaited it-restoration to its original
source.
So with the power that gently evaporated it from
the sea, the power that in the winds drifted it friom
climate to climate, the power that made it fall to the
ground, that carried it down the gently flowing  current back to its native place, there was no deterioration, no decay.  It miight have assumed one form after
another-motion, heat, and the like  but in its intrinsic nature it was altogether indestructible.  It is the
glory of modern science to have proved that Matter
and Force are both imperishable.
For matter, see from the illustration here presented
how, though it may pass friom form to form, in what
18 
VICISSITUDES OF FORCE.
a returning circle it runs. For force it is the same.
With predestined certainty both come back to their
starting-poinit.
In the month of March the Sun crosses the Equator, dispensing his rays more abundantly over our
northern hemisphere. Following in his train, a wave
of verdure advances toward the pole.  Trees, awaking
from winter, assume their leafy ornaments.  The vegetablle world enters on a new period of growth. As
autumn comes on, this orderly advance of light and
life is followed by an orderly retreat, and in its turn
the other hemisphere, the southern, presents the same
beautififl appearance.
Whence came all these green leaves and tinted
flowers, these seeds that are to furnish food for man?
N5ot from the ground, as some persons think.  The
Omnipotent Sun, that central governor of our planetary system, obtains and condenses the needful material from the air.  Under his genial influences a refined chemical operation is going on. He extracts
from an invisible and noxious gas-the same that is
expired from our lungs in the act of breathing, as useless and even poisonous to the system-that plastic
material out of which the unnumbered beautiful plantorgans are composed. Plants are therefore nothing
more than condensations from the Air, their parts being held together by Force that has been derived
from the Sun-force that, as it were, is ilnprisoned in
19 
ORIGIN OF ANIMALS.
them, but ever ready to re-appear. Each year, in this
manner, through that arch-chemic influence, a store of
Matter and of Force is laid up, as we are now to see,
for the animal world.
For, directly or indirectly, all animals find their nlutrition in feeding on plants. Even for those called
carnivorous, or flesh-feeders, the remark holds good.
They feed on others that have fed on plants. The
muscles, and fat, and nerve substance, nay, the very
bone, all have come from the vegetable world.
Wherein is the imperious necessity that food thus
composed and thus obtained should be used by man
and other animals?  It is for the double purpose of
securing Matter and Force. The former, in being consumed, furnishes the latter.
We have already seen that an animal is only a
transitory form, through which material substance is
visibly passing.  A scientific examination of its life
must include two primary facts.  It must consider
whence and in what manner the stream of material
substance has been derived, and whither it passes
away.  And since Force can not be created from
nothing, and is in its very nature indestructible,- it
must determine from what source that which is displayed by animals has been obtained, in what manner it is employed, and what disposal is made of it
eventually. The Force comes from the Sun, the Matter firom the Air.
20 
RELATION OF THE PLANT AND ANIMAL WORLDS. 21
But how does all this wasted material, that has
subserved its offices in animals, escape from them?
To so great an extent by the breath, that, with certain exceptions needless to notice here, it may be said
that the breathing of animals is essential to the growing of plants. We cast out into the atmosphere those
inert products no longer useful to life. Plants then
appropriate them under the influence of the Sun, and
organize them again.  And this brings us back to the
same truth that was revealed to us by the drop of
water. There is a cycle or revolution through which
material particles suitable for organization incessantly
run.  At one moment they exist as inorganic combinations in the air or the soil, then as portions of
plants, then as portions of animals, then they return
to the air or the soil, once more to renew their cycle
of movement.  The metamorphoses feigned by  the
poets of antiquity have hence a foundation in fact;
and the Vegetable and Animal, the organic and ilorg,anice worlds, are indissolubly bound together. Plants
form, animals destroy.
In this relation of the Plant and Animal worlds to
each other, there is a condition too important to be
overlooked. It is their mutual interbalancing. The
sum total of the one must be exactly adjusted to that
of the other. If either were permitted to acquire a
superiority, it would impress upon the atmosphere
a specific change. If animal life predominated, the 
CONTROLLING LAW.
quantity of carbonic acid would preponderate; if
plant life, the quantity of oxygen. Now there is evi dence the most copious, the most satisfactory, that for
many thousands of years the relative quantity of
these ingredients has remained unchanged. The atmosphere is to-day the same in composition that it
was sixty centuries ago.
There must therefore have been during that long
lapse of time a rigorous adjustment of the two forms
of life to one another, neither being permitted to gain
a superiority, but each minutely and exactly balanced
to the other. I will not at present enter on a description of the simple manner in which this equipoise is
accomplished, but will be content with the emphatic
remark, that in the most conspicuous manner it indicates THE EXISTENCE OF CONTROLLING LAW.
The material which has flowed through the heart
of man as blood, is transferred by breathing to the
air, and aids ill the formation of forest-trees and flowers.  The Asiatics, with whom have originated all the
varieties of religious creeds that have spread to any
extent in the world, not unfrequently asserted a transmigration of souls.  They would have been much
nearer the truth had they believed in a transmigration of bodies.  The coal that we burn is the remains
of forests which in former ages were thronged with
living things forests that sprang, as do the trees
with us, firom gases that were formed by the respira.
22 
NATURE OF THE AIR.
tion of animals, but of animals that are now all extinct.
Atmospheric air is then the grand receptacle from
which all living things come, and to which they all
return.  It is the cradle of vegetable, the coffin of
animal life.  Made up as it is of atoms that have
once lived, that have run through innumerable cycles
of change, the aspect of purity it presents conceals too
well its history.  In its ethereal expanse are crowds
of particles that have once blossomed as flowers, or
participated in the pleasures and pains of animal life.
Their former function discharged, they await their
turn of re-organization, occupying themselves in tranlsmitting the many-colored beams of light, or moving in
vibration to musical sounds.  A  condition so tran(luil suits well their former state and future destiny.
In this general tomb the remains of wild beasts and
of more ferocious men disappear, until the solar beams
recall them to life and give them form again.
The daily rotation of the Earth on her axis determines periodic observances in the functions of organized beings, and fixes their times of activity and sleep.
A similar result attends her yearly motion in her orbit. In our latitudes trees and plants awake at the
coming of spring, and put forth their leaves and flowers, and then sink again into their annual slumber.
Wild birds and beasts conform their habits to the
progress of the seasons, at one time preparing to bring
23 
INFLUENCE OF TIlE SEASONS.
forth their young, at another anticipating with a provident foresight the coming winter. It is thus with
those flocks of pigeons which in countless myriads
seek the North in spring and return to the South in
autumn; thus, also, with the vast herds of buffaloes
in the West. The migrations of fishes that take place
at given seasons, and which are connected with the
well-being and wealth of nations, are determined by
the occurrence of astronomical epochs. It is no explanation of these curious facts to say that they depend on other facts like themselves-that all animal
sleeps by night because his prey is also asleep-that
a fish migrates at those periods when his instincts tell
him that the food on which he lives is abundant. If
in any of these cases we pass from fact to fact, we unifornily come at last to the conclusion that all these incidents are under the control of astronomical events;
that the Sun not only determines periods of awakening and sleep, of growth and decay, but that he controls and regulates the movements of animated beings
all over the face of the Earth. His rays, falling perpendicularly, produce the luxuriant vegetation of tropical regions, and debilitate and enervate the human
race. In the polar regions their obliquity suffers the
ground to be always covered with snow, and makes
those inhospitable countries almost without inhabitants. The trade winds also, blowing uninterruptedly
for ages, carry toward the poles immense quantities of
24 
INFLUENCE OF THE OCEAN.
oxygen gas, which the green parts of plants throw into
the atmosphere of the torrid zone. That oxygen is
evolved by light and then disseminated by heat. In
the sea the same influence which thus presides in the
air is also at work.  The Gulf Stream, issuing from
the Mexican waters, with its temperature elevated by
solar action, determines the distribution of the Atlantic fishes: the Northern whale avoids its offensive
warmth, and on its sides shoals congregate which delight in a more genial heat. As it approaches the
coasts of Europe, and spreads out into a fan-like form,
the vapors that rise from it give forth their latent
heat to the air, and moderate the climates of England
and France. The coldness and sterility of corresponding latitudes in America are there replaced by a better temperature; and agriculture, the arts of life, science, and literature, have there reached their greatest
perfection. This physical agent, thus eternally but invisibly continuing its operation, produces a thousand
events in which its agency is only remotely traced;
nor are those influences limited to mere physical results; they stand in connection with the progress of
society and the evolution of mind.  A full development of the reasoning faculty can only take place
where physical circumstances conspire. Without the
Gulf Stream, Newton would never have written his
Principia, nor Milton Paradise Lost.
In these events, which strike us forcibly when we
25 
INFLUENCE OF THE SUN.
thus trace them step by step from their origin to their
results, wve are prone, at a casual glance, to give too
much weight to intervening influences, and forget
the final cause. We may assert that, with returning
seasons, periods of vegetation, and the distribution
of plants and animals, astronomical occurrences likewise direct a thousand of those daily movements
taking place in every part of the world.  There is no
gathered harvest, no desolating famine, that has not
sprung from an immediate connection with them.  In
judging firom a narrow circle of observation or from
an imperfect experience, mien are led to regard these
as fortuitous affairs. In truth, they are brought about
by unfailing and unchangeable causes. The breeze
that for a little time distends a passing sail-the
glimpse of light, which, issuing through some break
in the clouds, for a moment shines upon it, were preordained from the beginning of things-they came in
the resistless necessities of the case. If they had not
occurred the order of Nature had that instant enlded.
From century to century the Sun pours forth his undiminished stores of light and heat; the former out
of inorganic material constructing molecules that are
organized, and with them composing the myriads of
vegetables destined to support animal life; the latter
controlling the movements of inorganic things, dividing into climates the earth's surface, volatilizing water firom the sea, setting the wind in motion, and di
26 
UNIFORMIITY OF PHIIYSICAL ACTION.
recting the form, duration, and movement of the
clouds. The primitive force at work producing
these vital and meteorological phenomena undergoes no variation in intensity from year to year.
It is therefore expended in  producing the same
amount of effect. For this reason, the droughts of
one country are contemporaneous with the abundant
showers of another; the famine threatening one place
is compensated by harvests in another. As natural
laws were never meant for individuals, but for universal action on systems and masses, we must take
care that wve are not misled in our interpretation of
these incidental vicissitudes. Operating with unerring certainty and with unvarying force, the Sun carries on his plastic work, as the Earth in her daily
rotations submits herself to his beams. From this it
conies to pass that, though there may be variations
in the lot of particular individuals or of particular
nations, the common interests of all are protected,
the common rights of all upheld. From the very
beginning of things every class of variation has been
determined- where particular climates shall fall,
where particular temperatures  shall be  observed,
what shall be the speed of vegetable growth, what
tribe of animals shall be given-and the result remains fixed and invariable.
If we consider the successive races of organized
beings, beginning from  the lowest and passing to
27 
28      CONTROL OVER PLANTS AND ANIMALS.
the higher tribes, it would seem as if the general idea under which Nature is acting is, as the
more complex structures are evolved,to emancipate
them from the direct control of external physical
forces.  The Vegetable Kingdom, unendued with locomotive powers, deriving its existence directly from
external agents, is completely under their control.
If the summer is too brilliant, or rains do not fall, a
plant withers and dies. In the same manner, the
lower races of animals have their existence determined by the action of physical causes: if these be
favorable, they flourish; if unfavorable, they  must
submit to an inevitable lot. To tribes that are higher, to a certain extent the rigor of these laws is remitted, and a certain amount of independence allowed.  The Lion can retire to a shade in the middle
of the day; yet still he is held in a state of subjection, and instinctively submits to the operation of
an overruling power, and is kept to the sands of his
desert, from cool and temperate climates. The sunbeam is his chain.  In man alone the emancipation
is complete, for nature has committed a control of
her forces to him.  It matters not whetlier he be in
the torrid zone or the frigid, he can temper the seasons by resorting to artifices of clothing or by the
management of fire.  He also can dissipate the darkness of night by artificial light, prolonging for many
hours each day his active existence, and increasing 
CONTROL OVER MAN.
his social enjoyments. Developed by civilization, lihe
is no more a prey to the accidents of the seasons. If
the harvests in his own country have failed him, he
has created commerce, which brings him an abundance from distant places.  lTnlike inferior tribes,
which instinctively aim at the result he so perfectly
accomplishes, he does not wait upon Nature, but
compels her to minister to him. Oppressed by hunger, fishes migrate in the sea, and innumerable flocks
of birds direct their flight through the air; but civilized man, without calling into action his own locomotive powers, puts his arm across the globe and satisfies his wants.
But, though thus seemingly the master, man is really the dependant of physical agencies. The developmllent of his intellect, which gives him a control
over them, is, in truth, determined by them.  To be
satisfied of this, we have only to compare the effect
of climates in the torrid, temperate, and frigid zones.
We might appeal to individual experience as to the
enervating effect of hot climates, or to common observation as to the great influence exercised by atmospheric changes, not only on our intellectual powers, but even on our bodily well-being.  It is within
a narrow range of latitude that great men have been
born. In the earth's southern hemisphere not one
as yet has appeared.
Not without reason have I in the foregoing pages
29 
SLOW ChANGES IN TIIE AIR.
dwelt upon the control that physical conditions exert over living beings, irrespective of their position
ill the scale of nature. For it necessarily follows
that, should any thing transpire to impress a change
on those physical conditions, a reflected effect must
instantly be perceived in the organic forms. They
must change too.  Now the knowledge we have acquired of the past history of the earth instructs us
that her surface has passed through many modifica.
tions, and that her physical condition has altered in
the slow course of time. Her geographical aspect
has undergone many mutations; there are continents
where the sea once was, there are oceans where there
was dry land.  In a remote antiquity, the composition of the atmosphere was not the same as it is
now; it contained more carbonic acid, less oxygen
gas. The enormous quantities of coal, myriads of
tons in weight, now enveloped in the solid strata,
once existed in the air.  Separated therefrom by the
action of the solar rays, the atmospheric pressure
necessarily became less. For sixty centuries, as I
have already remarked, no appreciable change of
this kind has occurred; and hence it follows that a
period of almost limitless duration, so far as our
standard of time is concerned, must have elapsed
before changes so vast could be completed. How
slow the work, that has not perceptibly advanced
in many thousand years! And just as the compo.
30 
CORRESPONDING CHANGES IN ANIMALS.
sition of the air and its pressure have in this gradual mianner passed through vast mutations, so likewvise has the heat of the globe. There was a time
when the intrinsic heat-that is, that appertaining to
the Earth itself-was so high, that the climate differences, such as we now  observe, were altogether
concealed. But as that intrinsic heat gradually escaped away, and the globe became cooler and cooler,
climates began to emerge.  Nowv in this instance, as
in the preceding, we are absolutely certain that there
has been no recognizable diminution in many thousand years.  Astronomical considerations  establish
that; for, among other things, the day must have
become shorter, which has not been the case.  We
see, again, herein through what a limitless period
the history of the Earth extends.
Looking through that limitless vista, and bearing
in mind the absolute control exerted by physical
agencies over organic forms, on which we have been
so strenuously insisting, what is it we should expect
to see?  The physical influences —warmth, and pressure, and composition of air, the distribution of land
and sea, and a thousand other things, have changed.
With them, animated nature must also have changed.
In the dense and noxious atmosphere of the primeval
times, quickly-respiring, hot-blooded animals could
not possibly exist.  Physiology teaches us that such
conditions are absolutely incompatible  with their
31 
EXTINCTION OF ANIMALS.
life; and, in corroboration, Geology proves that they
did not appear until after the purification of the atmosphere had been accomplished, and the natural
conditions were in unison with their mode of life.
The slowness of such changes in natural conditions implies, therefore, slow changes in the tribes
of plants and animals-that is, in all organic forms.
The former stands in the attitude of a cause, the latter in the attitude of an effect. And in the same
manner that in their succession, obediently to these
principles, the successive groups of living things
made their appearance, so, too, in obedience to these
principles, numberless groups, whose conditions of
life had become incompatible with the changed exterior conditions, were necessarily eliminated-that
is, became extinct.  Just  as the Mastodon, which
once roamed all over the American continent, disappeared, through  inability  to  withstand the increasing rigor of the'winter, so myrliads of the inhabitants of the ocean, the land, the air, passed away.
The extinction of species is a necessary natural incident.
It is sometimes objected, by those who have not
duly weighed the vast body of evidence now bearing upon these points, that we are not authorized to
assume such a prodigious period for the duration of
the Earth as these facts seem to require. Whoever
presses that objection must bear in mind that these
32 
OPERATION OF NATURAL LAW.
conclusions depend not on the immature results of
a single branch of science, but are enforced by the
concurrent testimony of all. Astronomy, Physiology, Chemistry, Geology, bear a concordant evidence.
It is not the part of wisdom to couple with a chronological fiction great moral considerations in which
the wvell-being of humanity is concerned.  They will
share in the discredit attaching to its inevitable discomfiture.
In the past history of the Earth there have then
been slow variations in the vegetable and animal
kingdoms, caused by slow variations in the condition
of external nature.  Physical influences have modified organic forms.  But now, if we rise to a higher
point of view, and examine what has been the cause
of the changes in those controlling influences themselves, what is it that we see?  The operation of
universal law!  In the special instance  that has
been occupying our attention- the decline of the
earth's heat-an effect which Las carried with it the
most prodigious modifications both among living and
lifeless things, that decline has been going on under
the resistless operation of a law capable of mnathematical expression a law absolutely independent, free
firom all possibility of change. Thus, when we purlsue the scientific investigation of facts to the last accessible point, there uniformly emerges the conception, the idea of law-Jlaw ever-enduring, exhibiting
C
33 
OPERATION OF NATURAL LAW.
no variation, but so operating that out of the invariable and eternal, the changeable and perishable
spring forth.
MWe gather, therefore, a most imnportant lesson from
inqluiries respecting the origin, maintenance, distribution, and extinction of animals and plants, their balancing against one another-fronm the variations of
aspect and form of an individual man, as determined
by clilnate-from his social state, whether in repose
or motioii  firom the secular variations of his Opinions, and the gradual dominion of reason.  This lesson is, that the government of the world is accomplished by inmmutable law.
Such a conception commends itself to the intellect
of man by its majestic grandeur.  It matkes him discern the eternal through the vanishing of present
events, and through the shadows of time. From
the life, the pleasures, the sufferings of humanity, it
points to the impassive; from our wishes, wvants, and
woes, to the inexorable.
But, in thus ascending to primordial laws, and asserting their immutability, universality, and paramount control in the government of this wvorld, there
is nothing inconsistent wvith the free action of maln.
The appearance of things depends altogether on the
point of view we occupy.  He who is immersed in
the turmoil of a crowded city sees nothing but the
acts of men; and, if he formed his Opinion from his
34 
OPERATION OF NATURAL LAW.
experience alone, must conclude that the course of
events altogether depends on the uncertainties of human volition.  But he who ascends to a sufficient
elevation loses sight of the passing conflicts, and no
longer hears the contentions. He discovers that the
importance of individual action is diminishing as the
panorama beneath him  is extending.  And if he
could attain to the truly philosophical, the general
point of viewv, disengaging himself from all terrestrial
influences and entanglements, rising high enough to
see the whole globe at a glance, his acutest vision
would fail to discern the slightest indication of man,
his free will or his works.
In whatever direction wae look, we may therefore
expect to find proofs of the dominion of law.  Even
in those cases where the voluntary agencies of man
might seem to interfere, vestiges of that dominion
are obvious enough. For instance, are not the greatest number of crimes against persons and property
among the inhabitants of river banks? Does not
the period of maximum of crimes against persons
coincide withl that which is the minimum against
property-that is to say, the summer season?  As
respects each individual, is it not well known  that
his tendency to crime is at first against property, and
this reaches its maximum at about twenty-five years
of age? In maturer life he substitutes stratagem
for force. If brought up in a liberal profession, his
35 
INVARIABILITY OF HUMAN ACTS.
tendency to crime is against persons, but that of the
workman is against property. If we look from his
premeditated sins to his venial oversights, we still
find the same result. Of a million of letters put into
the Post-office year after year, there will be a fixed
number misdirected, and a fixed number on which
he has neglected to put any address at all.
It is the same with the other sex. In France, the
tendency of females to crime, when compared with
that of men, is as 23 to 100. Their tendency to the
perpetration of offenses against persons is less than
that for offenses against property in the proportion
of 16 to 26. It also is interesting to observe that
their physical force, if compared with that of man, is
as the same numbers. From these and other such
considerations, statesmen who have paid attention to
the subject have come to the conclusion that the morality of men and women is, if fairly estimated, about
the same-a conclusion, it need hardly be said, very
flattering to the vanity of the former, and therefore,
in spite of the whispers of gallantry, we may accept
it as substantially true.
I have descended to these paltry facts, and quoted
these seemingly trivial numbers, for the purpose of
bringing into clearer relief the cardinal doctrine that
in individual life, in social life, in national life, every
thing is influenced by physical agents, and is therefore under the control of law. Far from denying the
36 
PHYSIOLOGICAL ILLUSTRATION OF FREE WILL.
operation of man's friee will, I give to that great truth
all the weight that can be desired; but then I affirm
there is something that overrides, that forever keeps
it in check.
If the reader will try a very simple physiological
experiment upon himself, he will probably come to a
clearer understanding of what is here meant. Let
him execute with his right hand the motion he
would resort to in winding a thread upon a reel.
Then let him do the same thing with his left hand,
only winding the opposite way.  Are not these two
contrary motions which he thus consecutively accomplishes thoroughly under his control?  He wills to
do either, and forthwith either is done. Both illustrate his voluntary power. But next let him try to
do both-not successively, but simultaneously. Let
him put forth all the strength of his determination.
A free-will actor, he has now the opportunity of giving an illustration of his power. In the failure of repeated trials, he may discern what his voluntary determinations come to, and what they are really worth.
He may learn from this simple experiment that there
is something that over-controls him, and puts a limit
to his power.
There are physiological laws that constrain society.
There are physical boundaries beyond which society
can not pass. There are ends that no human legislation can accomplish.
37 
EFFECTS OF CLIMATE ON PLANTS.
The publication of Humboldt's Essay on the Geography of Plants first forcibly drew the attention
of thinking persons to the control of climate over
vegetables.  Under the equator, where the heat is
greatest, the Palm-tree, with its coronet of leaves, the
banana and luxuriant climbing plants, give to the
landscape its tropical characteristics. Advancing to
the north or to the south, where the temperature is
somewhat lower, there are evergreen woods in which
flourish the orange and myrtle. Still journeying farther, these are succeeded by a zone of deciduous
trees, such as the oak and the chestnut, and here
the great climbers of the tropics are replaced by
the hop and the ivy. Beyond, in a cooler zone, is
a belt of firs, larches, pines, and other needle-leaved
trees; and this, as we advance to the pole, leads us
through birches and mosses to the perpetually snowcovered-ground where.vegetation ceases.
So, in like manner, as Tourneforte observed, a
similar zone distribution occurs on the sides of
mountains; the plants, as we ascend to the snowcovered peaks, being analogous to those occurring in
succession on the surface as we advance to the poles.
He first detected this fact while ascending Mount
Ararat, about the year 1700, having previously studied the surface distribution in traveling from the Levant to Lapland.
In both these distributions the regulating condi
38 
INFLUENCE OF CLIMATE ON PLANTS.
tion is the declining heat.  That is the only cause
common to the two cases.  The temperature becomes
lower as we travel toward the pole, or ascend the
mountain's side.
Now, should any thilg occur to occasion a change
in this arrangement of climate zones, a corresponding
movement would undoubtedly  occur in the zones
of plant distribution.  iNay, more than that, species
unable to stand the change would at once become
extincet; or if it occurred very slowly, they might, by
undergoing modifications, be accommodated to it or
acclimiatized.  So heat not only arranges the distribution of vegetable forms on the face of the Earth, it
can also determine their extinction or occasion thleir
transformation.
The influence of such variations of temperature is
seen Nwlhen we examine particular plants in different
localities.  Thus thle Virginiia cherry attains a height
of a hundred feet in thle Southern States, but it is
dwarfed to a shrub of not more than five feet at the
Great Slave Lake.  The  Nasturtium,  whiclh is  a
w-oody shlrubl) in warm climates, is a succulent anlnual in cold.  Fromi such facts we learn this all-important lesson —that organisms of every kind, so far
froni presenting any resistance to change, yield helplessly to the influences to wvhich they are exposed.
The value of this conclusion, in its application to the
case of man, we shall soon see.
39 
INFLUENCE OF CLIMATE ON MAN.
The aspect of man ill color and form oscillates be  tween two extremes.  Submitted for a due time to a
high temperature, he will become dark, or if to a low
temperature, he will become fair. The form of the
skull will also alter.  No race is in a state of abso lute unchangeability, or able successfully to maintain
its present physiognomy, if the circumstances under
which it lives undergo alteration. It holds itself
ready with equal facility to descend to a baser or to
rise to a more elevated state, in correspondence to
those circumstances.
That climate does thus influence complexion is
clearly illustrated by the natural history of the Jews.
These  men, indisputably derived from  a common
stock, have different colors in different countries. In
the north of Europe they are fair, having blue eyes
and red beards.  As we trace them inl their southeasterly distribution, their color deepens by degrees.
In Palestine they have become tawny, in India of a
deep brown, in Malabar almost black.  I do not consider that the recent affirmation of the existence of
two distinct Hebrew tribes, the auburn-bearded and
the black-bearded, can be either historically or physiologically sustained. A still more general instance
is offered by the race to which we belong, the IndoEuropean, which reaches from Hindostan to the British Isles.  That this is one homogeneous family, derived from a common stock, is proved by the affini
40 
INDO-EUROPEANS.
ties of its various languages to the Sanscrit. In nearly all those various tongues, the family names, Father,
Mother, Brother, Sister, Daughter, are the same respectively.  A similar equivalence may be observed in
a great many familiar objects-House, Door, Town,
Path.  It has been remarked that  while this holds
good for terms of a peaceful nature, many of those
connected with warfare and the chase are different in
the different languages.  Such facts appear to prove
that the emigrating column followed a nomadic and
pastoral life. Many of the terms connected with
such an avocation are widely diffused. This is the
case with plowing, grinding, weaving, cooking, baking,
sewing, spinning; with such objects as corn, flesh,
meat, vestment; with wild animals common to Europe and Asia, as the bear and the wolf.  So, too, of
wvords connected with social organization -despot,
rex, queen. The numerals from 1 to 100 coincide in
Sanscrit, Greek, Latin, Lithuanian, Gothic; but this
is not the case with 1000, a fact which has led comparative philologists to the conclusion that though,
at the time of the emigration, a sufficient intellectual
advance had been made to invent the decimal system, perhaps from counting upon the fingers, yet that
it was very far from perfection.  To the inhabitants
of Central Asia the sea was altogether unknown;
hence the branches of the emigrating column, as they
diverged north and south, gave it different names.
.41 
THE BLUE-EYED RACES.
But, though unacquainted with the sea, they were
familiar with salt, as is proved by the recurrence of
its name. The bread-corn of the North is called rye,
that of the South rice.  Nor is it in the vocabularies
alone that these resemblances are remarked; the
same is to be said of the grammar.
Of this homogeneous family of men, the Indo-European, the complexion in the northwest is light, but
it darkens toward the southeast of India; and, as if
to guide us to the operating cause, this uniform deepening of the tint is broken through here and there as
we cross regions more elevated above the sea, and
therefore having a lower temperature. The inhabitants of the Caucasus and of the elevations of the
Hilmmaleh Mountains are as light as the Southern
Europeans, and there very frequently is seen the
auburn-bearded and blue or gray eyed man.
As plants may be modified by heat, so, too, may
men.  The Roiman authors bear their concurrent testimony to the fact that, twenty centuries ago, the inhabitants of Britain, Gaul, and Germany were redhlaired and blue-eyed.  But no one would accept
such a description as correct in our times. This
gradual disappearance of the light complexioned may
be said, in one sense, to be due to a climate change
that has been artificially produced. The starved,
half-naked, and almost houseless peasant savage of
the times of Cesar struggled in his native forest with
42 
CHANGES OF THE SKULL.
the cold.  The well-fed, well- clothed, well-housed laborer now is literally living ill a warmer and more
genial climate. Glass wvindows that keep out the
weather, wooden floors and stoves, have proved to be
equivalent to a more southerly locality.
But it is not alone complexion that is altered; the
form of the skull is also changed.  We should here
remember the well-ascertained fact that the skull is
modeled by the brain, and not the brain compressed
into form by the skull.
There are two typical forms of skull, popularly distinguished as the savage and the civilized.  The former gives a detestable aspect to the countenance-a
receding forehead, over which the hair encroaches on
the eyebrows; the nostrils gaping, and seeminig to
enter directly backward into the head; the jaw projecting, the mouth open, the teeth uncovered.  In
the other the forehead is vertical; the brow  expansive, and with an air of intellectuality; the face capable of expressing the most refined emotions; the eyes
in an indescribable but significant manner manifest
the exalted powers of the mind, and the lips are composed or compressed.
Between these two typical extremes there are
many intermediate forms.  Extreme heat or extreme
cold, a life of physical hardship, tend to the production of the baser; a life of ease in a genial climate, to
the higher type. And since our pursuits, and there
43 
SYMMETRY OF THE BRAIN.
fore our modes of thought, and therefore our feelings,
depend upon the climate we are living in, its {nfluences will be indicated by the general construction
of the brain, and therefore by the form of the skull.
For perfection in the construction of the brain
many conditions must be satisfied.  It is not mere
mass alone that is required, but also symmetrical organization of the several parts. The most prominent
characteristic of this organ is its symmetrical doubleness.  It consists of two halves, a right and a left;
halves they ought hardly to be called, for each is
complete in itself, and resembles its fellow. Every
person has thus two perfect brains, each of which
can conduct most of the usual mental acts.  And, indeed, this symmetrical doubleness occurs throughout
all that portion of the nervous system which is devoted, as physiologists term it,to animal life: so
much so, that it might be affirmed that every person
is composed of two symmetrical individuals, a right
one and a left, which to a certain extent lead independent lives: for instance, one may be struck by
palsy, the other may escape.
These double organs do not double the intensity
of our perceptions, but only render them more precise. For current uses one side of the brain alone
may be employed, but when we require greater exactness both are brought into play. They can give
a separate, or a conjoint, or, as some singular facts
44 
CLIMATE EFFECT ON THE BRAIN.
show, an alternating action. Howv often, when one
hemisphere is engaged in some ordinary pursuit requiring its steady application, does the other disturb
it with suggestions of a different kind, as by a strain
of music or by a line of poetry. We may indulge
simultaneously in two trains of thought, but never in
three, for the simple reason that we have a double,
but not a triple brain. So, in the pleasing operation
of castle-building, one hemisphere listens to the romance suggestions of the other, accepting them with
gravity as if they were true, though very well knowing that its comrade is only telling it a lie.
Whatever interferes with the absolute equality of
the right and left portions of the brain, affects the
wvorking of the mind.  A  skillful performer on the
piano must use both hands with equal ease, and in
like manner there is an ambi-dexterity of the brain.
The metaphorical expression, a well-balanced mind,
has really a profound scientific meaning.  But, for
securing in such a delicate organ as this absolute
symmetry, how  favorable  all the external circumstances must be!  An intolerable heat, a rigorous
cold, misery, want, a depressed social state, render it
almost impossible.
Such are some of the singular results of the separate operation of the two portions of the brain.  In
their conjoint action they present many facts well
worthy of our attention.  If one is inferior in organ
45 
IMPERFECTIONS OF TlE BRAIN.
ization to the other, it will, under certain circumstances, act discordantly, and insubordination or a
want of consentaneous action occur.  In many cases
of insanity the healthy half is unable to control the
diseased one, and hence we often observe in the insane that they have synchronously, or, at all events, in
very rapid succession, two distinct trains of thought,
and, consequently, two distinct utterances, each of
which may be perfectly continuous, or even sane by
itself, but the incongruities arising from the comnlingling of the two betray the condition of sulch persons.  To a less marked extent-the same principle
still, however, holding good -we may attribute the
various declining degrees of mental brightness, until
we come to persons who are intellectually quite obtuse and hardly able to reason.  Such dullness may
arise from a want of lateral symmetry, or from defective development of the organ as respects the three
lobes it exhibits when viewed in the front and back
direction, or from absolute deficiency in its size. In
the former case, the overcoming of insubordination
of one of the hemispheres may to a considerable extent be accomplished by education, of which one of
the chief results is, that it exercises us in the halit
of thinking of one thing at a time-of thinking, therefore, without confusion, and of arriving at conclusions
with precision and decision.
But education, no matter how excellent it may be,
46 
.EFFECTS OF CLIMIATE ON TIlE BIRAIN.
can never establish an intellectual equality among
men.  It can        do no more than bring each up to the
sta      nda      rd that th e perfection of his brain admits.
T he       re it must stop; and hence in all communities
the re mus       t be  descending grades of liunianity.  The
lo       w er social strata have a  different direction of
tho       ughht  fro    m the higher.  It is impossible to educate them completely, though  it is possible to finish
their education.  It matters not in  illat direction
their thoughts may be turned, the tokens of incapacity appear.  Their conceptions of political progress
dwindle into a change of men.  In the face of endless disappointments, they think that they can gain
their ol)ject b)y that inadequate device.
iNowv not unintentionally have I been led into this
digression on the mlodes of action of the brain.  That
organ is the instrument through which the mind
-works.  An artisan can never display his skill if his
tools be imperfect; thle mind can never demonstrate
its innate excellence through  a faulty apparatus.
And hence we see that all thlat has been said about
the influence of climate in controlling the development of man bears powerfully on this point.  Our
pursuits, our feelings, our modes of thoughlt, depend
on the theatre in which w-e live.
When a nation emigrates to a new country, the
climate of iwhich differs from  that of the country it
has left, it slowly passes through modifications, at
47 
48       MODIFiCATIOSN OF MEN BY CLIMATE.
tempting, as it wvere, to adapt itself to the changed
circumstances under which it has now to live.  Many
generations may be consumed before a complete correspondence between its physiological condition and
the climate to which it is exposed is attained.
Its different classes will not make this movement
with equal facility; some will accomplish it more
quickly, others more slowly.  Even when an equilibriumi has been reached as completely as possible,
there wvill still be distinct orders plainly enough perceptible among them.  These orders depend upon a
difference in individual intellectual development.
To bring these general principles to bear on the
special case of the inhabitants of the United States,
it is necessary to examine the topographical constructionl of the country, to examine its physical condition,
its climate, its products, for such are the influences
that model the character and determine the thoughts
of men.
The UNITED STATES reach from the Atlantic to the
Pacific, fiom the Lakes to the Gulf of Mexico. The
midst of this vast territory is depressed so as to form
a valley, ranging north and south, drained by a noble
river.  The Missouri-Mississippi, arising from the convergence of hundreds of streams, is nearly 4500 miles
long, and navigable for nearly 3800 miles.
This valley enjoys all the varieties of climate and
all the diversities of physical character.  At its limit 
DESCRIPTION OF THE UNITED STATES.
in the far north it presents the vegetation of an almost subarctic country; at the south, opening into
the Gulf of Mexico, it has all the luxuriant foliage of
the tropics. Its upper end is flanked by the great
lakes. They contain nearly twelve thousand cubic
miles of water-it is said, though perhaps erroneously, half the fresh water of the globe! The gigantic
character of the forms into which the continent is
cast is illustrated by the Cataract of Niagara, the
most imposing waterfall in the world.
On the east, the great valley is walled in by the
ridge groups of the Alleghany system.  At their foct
is the Atlantic plain, reaching to the Atlantic Ocean,
nearly level, and raised but little above  that sea.
This plain increases firom a few miles in width at the
north, to 150 at the south. It is intersected by a
ridge of primary rocks, over which its rivers fall, and
which in many places is the tide boundary and head
of navigation. This ledge therefore determines the
sites of many of the large towns or centres of commerce. The plain itself is full of swamps, morasses,
sluggish streams.  It is infested with fever.
On the west, leaving the line of the Mississippi
and ascending the incline that culminates in the Pacific coast mountains, the aspect of Nature exhibits a
gradual change.  At first, in the ravines, there are
thickets of the longg-leaved willow, and roses, the
most beautiful of the prairie flowers.  Antelopes and
D
49 
50       DESCRIPTION OF THE UNITED STATES.
Deer run over the hills. In every direction the
leaves of the prairie sage shine like silver as the
wind turns them up to the sun.  The streams are
fringed with cottonwood and groves of oak, tenanted by flocks of turkeys. As the traveler advances,
the cacti-plants that love dryness-become  more
and more numerous, and the shifting sands are work.
ed into hills by the wind.  In the streams, the beaver,
yearly diminishing in numbers, builds his dam; on
the plains the prairie dog excavates his subterraneous
village.
Still more westwardly, the characteristic of the
country is its extreme dryness.  In a long day's journey water may not be met with.  As the elevation
increases, every thing looks as if it had been swept
by fire; even the stunted and dead pines present the
prevailing dull, ashl-colored hue of desolation. The
bare hills assume grotesque forms of domes and minarets, half deceiving the traveler into the belief that
he is approaching some city of magicians in the desert. In this sandy and sterile region, the rich herbage and nutritious grasses, that had furnished on the
imnmense prairies pasturage for countless thousands
of buffaloes, have given place to odoriferous plants
with shrunken leaves.  The snow line of the mountains, which even in the height of summer whitens
the horizon, marks out the culminating ridge. The
topography of the West differs from that of the East 
CLIMATE OF TIlE UNITED STATES.
in this, that the highest range of mountains is nearest to the sea. The Coast Range and the Sierra Nevada surpass the Rocky Mountains. The Columbia
River alone breaks through the enormous barrier,
and, in a region of gigantic pines, delivers its waters
into the Pacific Ocean.
Such is the domain of the United States.  It is
necessary, next, to consider its climate. On climate
depends the distribution of vegetable and animal
life; it also determines the pursuits and character
of men.
If a traveler leaves the coast of New England and
goes to the West, he encounters successively four
well-marked strands of climate.  On  the sea-board
the temperature is moderated by the ocean; at a little distance in the interior there is an excessive contrast in the seasons; gaining the region of the lakes,
a moderate climate is again met with, and still beyond that another excessive one. These vicissitudes
arise from the action of great bodies of water, such
as the Atlantic and the Lakes, in equalizing the heat.
Along those parallels of latitude the mean annual
temperature varies very little. The climate difference is due to the unequal distribution of heat
among the seasons.
In excessive climates winter abruptly changes into
summer nwith scarcely any intervening spring, and
vegetation receives a sudden impulse. The charac
51 
CLIMATE OF THE UNITED STATES.
ter of man is also affected; for its proper develop.
ment a succession of seasons is necessary. The ab sence of summer is the absence of taste and genius;
where there is no winter loyalty is unknown.
From the North let us turn to the South. If a
traveler leaves the Atlantic coast of Upper Florida,
where a high temperature always predominates, the
Ocean and the Mexican Gulf conjointly control the
heat, and the seasons glide into one another without
marked extremes. There is a perpetual verdure.
The Palmetto, the Orange, the Fig, grow without
danger from the frost. There is no longer that violent contrast between sunmmer and winter experienced at the North. For instance, at Fort Snelling,
in Minn., the difference of the mean temperature of
those seasons is 56~; in Florida it is scarcely 12~.
The skies are also clearer. While on the Lakes
there are only 117 fair days in a year, on the Florida coast there are more than 250.
Though it is only a mere fringe of country that I
have here considered, enough has been said to bring
into relief the chief conclusion at which those who
have carefully and attentively studied this subject
have long ago arrived, viz., that the climate is more
equable in the South than it is in the North. The
irresistible consequence of this is, that in the South
the pursuits of men have a greater sameness, their
interests are more identical, they think and act alike.
5 2 
CHARACTER OF MEN IN THE NORTH AND SOUTH.  53
In the North, the avocations of men must exhibit
great differences. On the sea-board the commercial
and manufacturing element must predominate; then,
through a broad zone, the agricultural. Ascending
the incline to the mountain range, they must become
mineralogical, a similar variation occurring in an inverse order as the descent is made to the Pacific.
The sandy desert can not fail to impress its special
effects. These variations of interests and pursuits
must produce a more heterogeneous population, and
a great difference in intentions and thoughts.
Let us look at this more closely.  Let us recall
some of those results wvhichll Physiologists and Philosophical historians have proved to be the consequences of those influences in Europe-results none
the less interesting because they are old. Though
holding good for another continent, they suggest applications in ours.
In the North the alternation of winter and summer allots for the life of man distinct and different
duties. Summer is the season of outdoor labor, wvinter is spent in the dwvelling.  In the South labor may
be continuous, though it may vary.  The Northern
man must do to-day that wvhichl the Southern man
may put off till to-morrow.  For this reason the
Northern man must be industrious; the Southern
may be indolent, having less foresight and a less
tendency  to regulated habits.  The cold, bringing 
54  CIhARACTER OF MIEN IN TIlE NORTH AND SOUTII.
with it a partial cessation from labor, affords also
all opportunity for forethought and reflection; and
hence the Northern man acquires a habit of not acting without consideration, and is slower in the initiationI of his movements. The Southern man is prone
to act without reflection; he does not fairly weigh
the last consequences of what he is about to do.
The one is cautious, the other impulsive. Winter,
with its cheerlessness and discomforts, gives to the
Northern man his richest blessing; it teaches him to
cling to his hearthstone and his family. In times of
war that blessing proves to be his weakness; he is
vanquished if his dwelling be seized. The Southern
man cares nothing for that. Cut off from the promptings of external Nature for so large a portion of the
year, the mind in the North becomes self-occupied;
it contents itself with but few ideas, which it considers from many points of view. It is apt to fasten itself intently on one, and pursue it with fanatical perseverance. A Southern nation, which is continually
under the influence of the sky, which is continually
prompted to varying thoughts, will indulge in a supefluity of ideas, and deal with them all superficially; more volatile than reflective, it can never have a
constant love for a fixed constitution. Once resolved
to act, the intention of the North, sustained by reason alone, will outlast the enthusiasm of the South.
In physical courage the two  are equal; but the 
VARIETIES OF AMERICAN CLIMATE.
North will prevail, through its habits of labor, of
method, and its inexorable perseverance. Long ago,
writers who have paid attention to these subjects
have affirmed that the South will fight for the benefit of its leaders, but the North will conquer for the
benefit of all. To convince the man who lives under
a roof, an appeal must be made to his understanding; to convince him who lives under the sky, the
appeal must be to his feelings.
Such are some of the general consequences ensuing
from the action of climate upon men, and such represent the effects vwhich are occurring or have occurred
on the population of the North American continent.
The description I have given of this vast theatre of
human life, though very superficial, is yet sufficient
to impress the reader with a conviction of the wonderful variations of climate it presents-great differences in annual mean temperature, and still greater
ones in the distribution of heat through the seasons.
But heat is only one of the controlling vital conditions. There are equally striking contrasts in the
moisture and dryness of different regions; in the
number of fair and of rainy days in the year; in the
range of movement in the barometer-that is, in the
pressure of the air; in the brightness of the light, or
in its reverse dullness or cloudiness of the skies; in
topographical altitudes above the level of the sea.
These and very many more such physical influences
55 
IMODIFIEI) MEN IN AMiERICA.
exhibit a surprising complexity; and yet the more
insignificant, as well as the more important, impress
modifications on the constitution of man.
From this, therefore, it follows that such a continent, when its inhabitants shall have reached a concordance with the conditions to which they are exposed, will present numberless examples of modified
men; the type from which they originated yielding
helplessly to the powers operating upon it, and suffering variations not only in complexion, but in interior constitution too.  And since the American continent not only rivals, but exceeds the continent of
Europe in these differences, it necessarily follows
that the families of modified men destined eventually to be found upon it will be correspondingly more
numerous than those now found on the Continent of
Europe.  The great differences so strikingly observed
in the intellectual conceptions, and even in the manner of thinking, in the Old World, will be exceeded
in the Nevw.
That social stagnation so characteristic of Asia depends primarily on the equilibrium that has been attained, in the lapse of many ages, between the strands
of its population and the climate zones in which they
dwell. To no insignificant extent may the same be
perceived in Europe, especially among the lower, that
is, among the less locomotive portion of the inhabitants.  But in no part of America has that exact con
56 
EFFECT OF LOCAL CLIMATE CHANGES.
cordance as yet had time or opportunity to be truly established, though in the Southern States an approach
has been made to it. Moreover, the climate is continually undergoing local modifications through the
operations of agriculture and other causes, and the
conditions under which life is carried on in civilized
communities are varying through the introduction
of new and important inventions.  The construction
of houses, and the means of combating the rigors of
winter by the better warming of them; the increasing resort to a preservation of ice, to meet in various
applications the heats of summer; a habit of resorting to higher and cooler regions for the same purpose, are all having their effect. And, what is of not
less importance, the daily food of extensive districts
is changing. Improved means of locomotion are
b)ringing  within the reach of the consumer, even
though he may be in the less affluent station of life,
articles to which he was formerly a stranger.
Those improved means of locomotion likewise stimulate all classes to travel. In America a journey of
a thousand miles is considered, even by the laboring
population, as a small affair scarce needing any preparation. The necessary result of such personal mobility is, that families are perpetually changing their
places of abode. The physiological equilibrium which
might have been attained by a more stationary life
is procrastinated. Society presents the aspect of an
57 
58      CLIMATE AND POLITICAL STABILITY.
ever-changing, ever-struggling mass-a state of things
the very opposite to that observed in Asia.
Uniformity of climate makes people homogeneous.
Tlhey will necessarily think alike, and inevitably act
alike.
Where variation in successive generations is not
taking place, immobility in national institutions is
possible.
The first and most important condition for the
prosperity of a great nation is stability in its institutions.
But stability must be carefully distinguished from
immobility.  We must bear in mind that the affairs
of men are ever changing; successive generations live
under essentially different conditions; public necessities are therefore continually varying, and disorder
arises as soon as Institutions prescribe one course and
Necessfty demands another.
To insure stability, the political system must therefore admit of change-that change being in accordance with a law of variation which depends on a
fixed principle. Unchangeability should belong to
the law, not to the institutions issuing from it.
In that manner alone can order and progress coexist, and the demand made by modern statesmanship with so much solicitude be satisfied.  It truly
affirms that there can be no real Order without Progr1ess, and no real Progress withlout Order. 
CHANGES IN POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
Institutions well adapted for five millions of people will certainly be very unsuitable for fifty. Institutions intended for a narrow coast line will certainly be inadequate if applied to one of the quarters of
the globe. Edifices, though they may be built of
iron, will fall to pieces if the architect has not made
provision for expansion at one point and contraction
at another. Where motion must in the necessities
of the case occur, it is essential for safety that there
should be a harmony among the moving parts. Inequality of progressive movement implies strainstrain implies fracture.
It is therefore the province of statesmanship to determine how change shall be provided for in political
institutions, and what is the true nature of the law
by which they shall be modified. Above all, it is its
province to discover the immutable principles on
which that law must rest.
It is better for communities to advance through
legal forms than by revolutionary impulses, or by attempting to secure stability through incessantly failing experiments. The only safe guide for them to
follow is furnished by a careful investigation of the
circumstances under which their life has been and is
to be spent.
The life of a feeble colony is simple. When it has
become a widespread and powerful nation, its necessities are numerous and contradictory. The chances
59 
NATURE OF SOCIAL PROGRESS.
that they will be contradictory increase as the physical circumstances of the country are more diversified.
Hence it is that a nation lying east and west will
generally have less discordant interests than one the
range of which is north and south.  Climate varies
in this latter case much more than it does in the
former.
Society, therefore, pressed upon relentlessly by Nature, passes through a definite series of changes.  It
runs through a predestined career.  It is never in a
state of rest, as politicians too often suppose, but always in motion.  It has a past from which it is coming, a future to which it is going. It also has an unavoidable end.
A nation, as it passes firom phase to phase, is
guided by definite natural laws, and depends upon
definite conditions.  There must be an unfailing supply of new parts to take the place of the old that
are being unceasingly removed. There must also be
a simultaneous grouping or moulding.  Its life is to
outlast by far the life of any of its constituent parts,
or even of many generations of them. Its wants and
its wishes wTill vary with circumstances and times.
Half-educated people vainly persuade themselves, and
demagogues try to persuade others, that it is possible
to devise a political constitution so perfect that it
will never need change. A constitution may be intrinsically good in so far as it suits a present genera
60 
NATURE OF SOCIAL PROGRESS.
tion and a short time. But there is goodness of a
higher order, depending on a plasticity that can
adapt itself to varying circumstances and stand the
shocks of Time.
In the popular view, a nation arises independently
of others. Without any disturbance it might never
have existed. But nations should not be regarded
as isolated forms.  They are, in reality, an organic series connected together.  Each has bonds with those
that are past and with those that are to come.  In
its position each is perfect in itself. It is an incarnation of natural influences upon humanity at a given
epoch. There is, therefore, a chain of Empires, whose
first link is far back in the darkness of pre-historic
times.
Such an interconnected succession implies cause
and effect-the steady dominion of natural law. It
means the continuous advancement of humanity.
From infancy man slowly emerges into childhood,
from that into youth, from that to maturity. Each
of these stages brings with it changes of character,
making him feel differently and think differently.
In that resistless development have we any voluntary concern?  Could we have arrested its march by
any desire, or could we have diverted its course?
We have made the same passage that has fallen to
the lot of every human being, and as for our predecessors, so for us, there awaits us the unpitying
61 
COMPARATIVE HIIISTORY.
grave. We came into the world without our own
knowledge, we are departing from it against our own
will.
In that great branch of literature of which we now
only see the dim beginning-Comparative Historythe series of Nations, viewed by the light of individual life, will be hereafter considered.  Nations will
be regarded not as mere accidents, or creative blunders, or experimental attempts, but as emerging from
the bosom of humanity through predetermining
causes. It will treat of their march of development,
showing why one has been arrested at an early stage
in its life, another has advanced more completely to
maturity, another has expended its vital powers, and
died, as it were, of old age. It will show that there
is a general equation of National life, and that special
nations are special solutions of it. It will prove that
nations are not individuals, but only forms into
which humanity is thrown-mere transitory combinations, of which the inevitable issue is dissolution,
death. For the constituent men of whom they were
composed there may be an immortality, but that does
not imply immortality for the resulting form. The
material particles of which the flame of a lamp is
composed we know are indestructible, eternal, but
who shall say whither that flame has gone when
once blown out!
62 
ILLUSTRATION FROM. EGYPTIAN IIISTORY.
Perhaps I can not more impressively enforce the
principles that have been explained on the foregoing
pages, particularly those that assert the control of
Climate over the actions of man, than by presenting
one or two historical reminiscences. From many in stances, I select the cases of Egypt and of Asia.
European civilization originated in Egypt. For
thiity-four centuries before our era that country was
governed by dynasties of kings succeeding each other
without interruption. Its soil, proverbially fertile,
sustained a population estimated in the most prosperous times at about seven millions; and repeated military expeditions into Asia and Ethiopia had, in the
course of ages, concentrated in it immense wealth,
and crowded with captives and slaves the valley of
the Nile.
Until about seven hundred years before Christ the
inhabitants of that country had been shut out from
all Mediterranean or European contact by a rigorous
exclusion exceeding that until recently practiced in
China and Japan.  As from the inmates of "The
Happy Valley" in Rasselas no tidings escaped into
the outer world, so to the European the Valley of
the Nile was a region of mysteries and marvels.
Uncertain legends were current all over Asia Minor, Greece, Italy, Sicily, of the prodigies and miracles that adventurous pirates reported they had actually seen in their stealthy visits to the enchanted
63 
64 ILLUSTRATION FROM- EGYPTIAN IIISTORY.
valley-great pyramids covering acres of land, their
tops rising to the heavens, yet each pyramid nothing
more than the tombstone of a king-Colossi sitting
on granite thrones, the images of Pharaohs who had
lived in the morning of the world, still silently looking upon the land which thousands of years before
they had ruled; of these, some, obedient to the Sun,
saluted his approach when touched by his morning
rays- Obelisks of prodigious height, carved by superhuman skill from a single block of stone, and
raised by superhuman powver erect on their everlasting pedestals, their faces covered with mysterious
hieroglyphics, a language unknown to the vulgar,
telling by whom and for what they had been constructed-Temples, the massive leaning and lowering walls of which were supported by countless
ranges of statues-avenues of Sphinxes, through the
shadows of which, grim and silent, the portals of
fanes might be approached-Catacombs containing
the mortal remains of many generations, each corpse
awaiting in mysterious embalmment a future life —
Labyrinths of many hundred chambers and vaults,
into which whoso entered without a clew never again
escaped, but in the sameness and silence of those endless windings found his sepulchre.
In the security of this inaccessible retreat, and
under political institutions of a favorable character,
the civilization which was to be conferred, through 
ILLUSTRATION FROMI EGYPTIAN HISTORY.
Greece on Europe originated. Each year since the
country has been open to investigation and its hieroglyphlic system understood, the impressions we receive of its intellectual advancement have been more
and more favorable.  The vocal statue of Memnon
at Thebes, it is said, emitted a musical sound when
touched by the rays of the sun. In the light of modern criticism, every obelisk and monument of those
desolated palaces is finding a voice.
As a critical attention is bestowed by modern
scholars upon Egyptian remains, we learn more truly
what is the place in history of that venerable country. From Egypt, it now appears, were derived the
prototypes of the Greek architectural orders, and
even  their  ornaments  and  conventional designs;
thence came the models of the Greek and Etruscan
vases; thence many of the ante-Homeric legendsthe accusation of the dead, the trial before the judges
of Hell, the reward and punishment of every man,
the dog Cerberus, the Stygian stream, the lake of oblivion, the piece of money, Charon and his boat, the
fields of Elysium, the islands of the blessed.  Thence
came the first ritual for the dead, litanies to the Sun,
and painted or illuminated missals; thence came the
do,gma of a queen of heaven. What other country
ever offered such noble and enduring edifices to the
gods?-temples with avenues of sphinxes-massive
pylons adorned with obelisks in front, which even
E
65 
66      ILLUSTRATION FROMNI EGYPTIAN HISTORY.
imperial Rome and modern Paris have not thought it
beneath them to appropriate-porticoes and halls of
columns on which were carved the portraits of kings
and the effigies of gods.  The Pyramids have seen
the Old Empire, the Hyksos monarchs, the New Empire, the Persian, the Macedonian, the Romnlan, the
Mohammedan.  They have stood still, while heaven
itself has changed. They were already five hundred
years old when the Southern Cross disappeared from
the horizon of the countries of the Baltic. The Pole
Star itself is a new comer to them.  Another and a
more brilliant star, now far removed, then occupied
that conspicuous place.
What was it that thus placed Egypt in the van
of our civilization, and gave her the precedence of
Europe?
The progress of human generations is shaped by
the physical circumstances in which they live.
The Nile, the mysterious river of antiquity  mysterious now no more —takes a northerly direction from
equatorial Africa through a valley, overflowing its
banks once each year, spreading a fertile mud to the
edge of the sandy desert, and encroaching perpetually on the Mediterranean Sea.  All Lower Egypt has
been made by it.  The arable strand thus formed varies in width from two to about eleven miles.
In one all-important particular Egypt differed from
most other places-the agricultural result of its sea 
PERMANENCE OF EGYPT.
sons could be foretold.  Elsewhere men depend for
the fruits of the earth on uncertain rains, in Egypt
they depended on the inundations. If in the month
of July the water has only risen twelve feet, it is
known that the harvests will be scanty; if to twentyone feet, that they will be plentiful. A system of
reservoirs and dikes, floodgates and other hydraulic
apparatus, had been contrived in the remotest times.
The government took charge of the river, deliverincg
water from it in a regulated manner, and remunerating itself by a tax.
Agriculture thus became a reliable art. The people were relieved from the uncertainties of the future.
The river was to them all a common interest, a common bond of union.  Where  there is a bond like
that, its political consequences can hardly be exaggerated.  Moreover, the climate throughout the whole
of Egypt proper was very uniform.
The remark has already been made on a previous
page that uniformity of Climate makes people homogeneous.  They will necessarily think alike, and inevitably act alike.
Here, then, was a people having common ideas and
common intentions. Its consolidation and civilization were assured.  A Colossus with its hands resting upon its knees typified what the nation really
was.  Every thing seemed eternal, no change probable, no catastrophe possible.
67 
IMM.IOBILITY OF EGYPT.
It is not surprising, then, that the two great divisions of the country-Upper and Lower Egypt-became consolidated at an early epoch, and in all the
vicissitudes of prosperity and adversity were never
subsequently separated.
In this invariable climate, held together by a common interest and a comnmonl bond, generations of
Egyptians for forty centuries and more succeeded
one another. Each one was like all its predecessors.  There was nothing to produce modification.
The mould into which Nature poured her living material underwent no kind of change. The casts that
she procured were all alike.
Egypt is therefore an exemplification of the general principle that where variation in successive generations is not taking place, immobility in national
institutions is possible.
Of Asia it has long been remarked that it is a
continent without any temperate zone. The vast
mountain axis which in an irregular manner divides
it, throws it into two slopes, one looking to the north,
the other to the south. Apart, however, from this,
which undoubtedly impresses a general feature of
violent contrast on its meteorology, its local variations
are such as to give rise to many diversities of climate,
marked in a sufficiently distinct manner, though not
so abrupt or so frequent as is the case in Europe. It
68 
ILLUSTRATION FROM THE HISTORY OF ASIA.
necessarily, therefore, presents numerous examples of
distinctly modified men.
Receiving its human population at an epoch anterior to that of the peopling of Europe, Asia has alwvays been regarded as the birthplace of man. On
a previous page has been given a portion of that
large body of evidence accumulated by Comparative
Philologists in proof of the fact that the present inhabitants of Europe are of Oriental descent.
The activity that must have existed in its early
history, when from one, or at the most a few centres,
its teeming population was rapidly spreading in every direction, and accomplishing the settlement of its
various districts, has long ago given place to stagnation. At intervals centuries apart there have poured
from it devastating hordes that have precipitated
themselves on Europe.  These have commonly melted away in the populations they overran, and have
scarcely left any trace of their existence in the countries from which they emerged.
In some instances such warlike emigrating columns
have been set in motion by military chieftains or by
internal civil commotions; but not unfrequently they
have originated, there is every reason to believe, in
the consequences of those geological changes to which
the Eastern Continent is subject-changes which divert the courses of rivers and modify the lines of
travel.  On the nomadic population of the northern
69 
STAGNANT CONDITION OF ASIA.
slope such effects are widespread disasters, compelling the tribes into a forced emigration down the
gentle incline-the path zone-that leads out of Asia
into Europe.
Exception made of these convulsive social movements, the entire population of that continent is in a
sta,lgnant condition. There is nothing to excite locomotion. At the best, the numberless states and
forms of government existing, restrict intercommunication within very narrow bounds.  Over vast tracts
of country the traveler can not pass without risk of
liberty or life. So many different languages, so many
different chieftains, present insuperable obstacles to
movement.
The influence of religious opinions also exerts a
powerful effect. Alllong many millions it is thought
unholy to go to sea. The lines of journey, such as
they are, remain unaltered and unimproved for successive centuries-unaltered unless by the miovemients
or acts of Nature. The venerable caravanserai receives its evening travelers just as it did centuries
ago.  The patient camel on the southwestern slope,
and the rude wagon on the northern, pursue their
wearisome courses just as they did in the days of
Alexander.
It may therefore be said that the Asiatic populations have truly lost locomotion-they have become
stationary, vast multitudes during their whole lives
70 
CAUSE OF THAT CONDITION.
scarcely leaving the places where they were born.
Successive ages have left an indelible impression.
In all directions, the people have come into physiological correspondence with the natural conditions in
which they are living.  In this perfect correspondence lies the secret of their stagnant state.
Stagnant it emphatically is! There are no changes
in the fashions of clothing, no improvements in the
habitations, no bettering of food. As their ancestors
in past times lived, so do they. Oppression may
have sometimes driven them to revolt, the intrigues
of leading men may have sometimes plunged them
into war, but it never occurs to them to modify the
political system under which they may happen to
live, any mnore than it occurs to bees to change the
economy of their hive. The utmost they ever accomplish is to exchange their tyrant. They do not seek
to get rid of the tyranny. In Asia the sense of political improvement is lost.  Crushed by the relentless tread of centuries, they can only appreciate tranquillity and rest.  Without a murmur or even a wish,
they leave Europe to seek and sigh for freedom.
To this correspondence whvlich the lapse of time has
accomplished between their physiological condition
and the theatre of their life, we must attribute that
propensity to religious aspirations which has for so
long marked their character, and which has so profoundly impressed all other portions of the world.
71 
ANCIENT ACTIVITY OF ASIA.
Buddhism, Mohanniiedanisml, Judaismi, the religious
faiths of nearly eight hundred millions of men, are
all of Asiatic origin.  Moreover, it must not be forgotten that Palestine was the birthplace of Christianity. The irrepressible tendency of Europe is to philosophy, that of Asia is to religion. The former
looks forth on the exterior world, investigating the
events of Nature, and profiting by the application of
the discoveries it makes. The latter looks inwardly
upon itself.  Motionless, like its own Fakirs, it is absorbed in self-contemplation, and has fallen into  a
trance.
It was not, however, always thus in the East.  In
times of which History has failed to preserve any account, that continent must have been the scene of
prodigious human activity.  In it were first developed those fundamental inventions and discoveries
which really lie at the basis of the progress of the
human race-the subjugation of domestic animals,
the management of fire, the expression of thought by
wnvriting.  We  are apt to overlook how much  man
must have done, how much he must have added to
his natural powers in pre-historic times. We forget
how many contributions to our own comforts are of
Oriental origin.  Their commonness hides them from
our view.  If the European  wishes to know how
much he owes to the Asiatic, lie has only to cast a
glance at an hour of his daily life.  The clock which
Ii- 2 
OBLIGATIONS OF EUROPE TO ASIA.
summons him from his bed in the morning was the
invention of the East, as also were clepsydras and
sun-dials. The prayer for his daily bread, that he has
said fiom his infancy, first rose from the side of a
Syrian mountain.  The linens and cottons with which
hlie clothes himself, though they may be very fine, are
inferior to those that have been made for time imimemorial in the looms of India.  The silk was stolen
by some missionaries for his benefit from China.  He
could buy better steel than that with which he
shaves himself in the old city of Damascus, where it
was first invented.  The coffee lie expects at breakfast was first grown by the Arabians, and the natives of Upper India prepared the sugar with which
he  sweetens it.  A  school-boy can tell the meaning of the Sanscrit wvords  sacchara canda.  If his
tastes are light and hlie prefers tea, the virtues of
that excellent leaf were first pointed out by the industrious Chinese.  They also taught him  how  to
make and use the cup and saucer in which to serve
it.  His breakfast tray  was lacquered in Japan.
There is a tradition that leavened bread was first
made of the waters of the Ganges.  The egg he is
breaking was laid by a fowl whose ancestors were
first domesticated by the AIalaccans, unless she may
have been-though that will not alter the case-a
modern Shanghai.  If there are preserves and fruits
on his board, let lhim  reiemeber wvith thankfulness
73 
OBLIGATIONS OF EUROPE TO ASIA.
that Persia first gave him the Cherry, the Peach, the
Plum. If in any of these pleasant preparations he
detects the flavor of alcohol, let it remind him that
that substance was first distilled by the Arabians,
who have set him the praiseworthy example, which
it will be for his benefit to follow, of abstaining from
its use. When he talks about coffee and alcohol, he
is using Arabic words. A thousand years before it
had occurred to him to enact laws of restriction in
the use of intoxicating drinks, the Prophet of Mecca
did the same thing, and, what is more to the purpose,
has compelled to this day all Asia and Africa to
obey them. We gratify our taste for personal ornaments in the way the Orientals have taught us-with
pearls, rubies, sapphires, diamonds. Of public amusements it is the same.  The most magnificent fireworks
are still to be seen in India and China; and as regards the pastimes of private life, Europe has produced no invention that can rival the game of Chess.
We have no hydraulic constructions as great as the
Chinese Canal, no fortifications as extensive as the
Chinese Wall; we have no Artesian wells that can at
all approach in depth some of theirs. We have not
yet resorted to the practice of obtaining coal gas from
the interior of the earth; they have borings for that
purpose more than 3000 feet deep.
Through the long-continued influence of Climate
action a different mental constitution has been im
74 
TIlE EUROPEAN AND THE ASIATIC.
parted to the inhabitants of Europe and of Asia.
The mind of the latter has become essentially synthetic, that of the former analytic. The Asiatic is
the creator of systems of Theology, Lavw, Philosophy,
some of which have endured for thousands of years,
and have been adopted by a large portion of the human race.  The European pursues his course in a
way less grand, but which, since it has a better ascertained foundation, leads to more certain, and, as the
course of centuries will show, more powerful, vwidespread, and equally lasting results. In Asia, as we
have seen, customs and fashions remain invariable;
every thing is in a state, as wve term it, of stagnation,
or as they consider it, of repose. On the other hand,
the analytical tendency of the European has led to
the intellectual and political anarchy of our' times,
when fundamental doctrines of every kind are called
in question, and scarcely two men can be found
whose views on religious, political, and social questions coincide. In Asia there are no questions, only
affirmations. Europe, except when the Church for a
thousand years enforced the Asiatic system, has ever
been prone to ask questions. Since the fourteenth
century, when she returned to that propensity, she
has been passing through a chaos of doubt in the innumerable answers she receives.
I trace, therefore, the stagnant condition of the
Asiatic populations to that correspondence into which
75 
THE POLITICAL STATE OF ASIA.
they have slowly been brought with the physical circumstances in which they live.  They have come into
a condition of physiological repose. The consequence
is, that they have come into a condition of political
repose also. Barriers not only of a material, but of
an intellectual kind, the consequences of those events,
are now fettering them, cramping them.  They are
held in the iron grasp of a hundred tyrannies, and,
what is indeed more effectual, are parted from one
another by many different tongues.
The consequence of this physiological correspondence has been the permanent establishment of the various governments that divide the continent. These
may from time to time suffer interior change throughi
civil commotions or mutual war, but the aspect of
Oriental life has remained unaltered for several thousand years. The many National forms that have
sprung into existence tend to aid Climate in its influence and perpetuate a common effect. From being
originally consequences, they have assumed the attitude of causes.
And yet it is not beyond the bounds of possibility
that this deplorable state of things should change,
and, those old, worn - out populations disappearing,
races of newv- comers take their place- newr-comers
arising, perhaps, in large part from the intermixture
of people who, not having that physiological correspondence with the countries in which they were
76 
PROSPECTIVE CIIANGES IN ASIA.
thrown, could renew the scene of struggle, the scene
of activity again. Asia has given to Europe its religion. Europe may hereafter repay the debt by giving
to Asia her improved means of locomotion. Once
let those torpid communities be set in movement,
once mix them up again by travel, by commerce, and,
by their consequence, intermarriage, and the aspect
of things would quickly change.  In Europe itself,
the rapid modes of locomotion-inappreciably valuable inventions of our age-are inciting an impending revolution. They extend the sphere of individual
life; bring diverse populations, that misinterpreted
and misunderstood one another, face to face; remove
national prejudices; refine the public manners; and
elevate the public mind. Asia, the land of miracles,
may yet be destined to exhibit the greatest of political wvonders. Interior motion may revolutionize that
continent.
Turning from these special cases, to which many
others might be added if there were occasion, I shall
now endeavor to bring plainly into relief the facts
that have been considered in the preceding pages.
What is it they amount to?  This-that the body
of man can not resist external influences. It is helplessly modified by heat and cold, dryness, moisture —
that is, by Climate. The complexion of the skin
changes, as also does the construction of the brain.
77 
EFFECTS OF CLIMiATE IN AIMERIICA.
In a restricted locality there may therefore be a sameness in the population; but in a vast continent, where
there are all kinds of climate, there will inevitably be
all kinds of modified men. Their thoughts and their
actions must necessarily be diverse. To unite them
under one government becomes, then, proportionably
more and more difficult. But now, if there be a point
on which America as a nation has come to an irrevocable resolve, it is that one government alone shall
hold sway on this continent. Then let us look the
physical difficulty plainly in the face. Though formidable, it is not insuperable.
Look at that zone of American population inhabiting the countries in which the cotton-plant can grow.
Does not the luxuriance of that delicate product, that
so quickly suffers on the approach of cold, imply a
homogeneous climate? Is it surprising that there
should be a mental sameness, a concordance among
the inhabitants in their manner of thinking? We
have seen that a common climate makes men think
alike and act alike.
Turn now to that other zone, stretching firom the
Atlantic westwardly in the direction of the great
lakes. Here there is none of that climate homogeneousness occurring in the other case.  Even before
the region of the lakes is fairly reached, four distinct
strands of different temperature have been passed
through. Followv that zone with a prophetic eye, as
78 
EFFECTS OF CLIMATE IN AMERICA.
it becomes peopled to the shores of the Pacific Ocean,
and tell me, as those busy hordes extend over the
vast sandy desert, climb up the threatening ridges of
the mountain chains, descend through the moaning
forests of enormous pines beyond, how many are the
vicissitudes through which life must be maintained,
and I will tell you how many distinct families of men
there must be.
We must steadily bear in mind the principle that
has forced itself so strongly on our attention. Scientific Physiology has no better ascertained fact than that
man possesses no innate resistance to change. The
moment he leaves his accustomed place of abode to
encounter newv physical conditions and altered modes
of life, that moment his structure commences slowly
to change. It may take several generations before
an equilibrium is reached. Then his countenance, his
complexion, his hair, testify to what has been going
on.
Public policy should therefore hold these great
facts steadily in view, and shape its course accordingly. It should not only discern herein the hidden
causes of those dreadful events through which, as a
Nation, we are passing, it should also foresee that this
is the rugged path through which, in the future, destiny leads us. To the innate sympathies and antipathies thus engendered the demagogue will in all future time appeal. As they have done inll our day, so
79 
EFFECTS OF CLIMATE IN AMERICA.
will they ever hereafter constitute an instrument apt
for his purpose. We have been called upon to deal
with the variations as they now exist, our descendants will have to deal with the greater variations
coming. No European nation can serve us as an
exemplar, for none has encountered a problem so
complicated and vast. The nearest approach to its
solution was made by the Roman Empire, but that
lay, for the most part, in an easterly and westerly direction, in which the wants and intentions of men
were very much the same.  That imperial system
was intrinsically unable to extend itself north and
south.  Had it made such an extension, the difficulty
of its government would have been far greater than
it was. Whoever will study its disintegration and
disruption will see howv true these principles are.
And here I can not help making the remark, that
whoever accepts these principles as true, and bears in
mind how physical circumstances control. the deeds
of men, as it may be said, in spite of themselves, will
have a disposition to look with generosity on the
acts of political enemies. Even when in madness
they have rushed to the dread arbitrament of civil
war-a crime in the face of which all other crimnes
are as nothing-and brought upon their country immeasurable woes, he will distinguish the instrument
from the cause, and, when he has overpowered, will
forgive.
80 
UNION IN EUROPE.
Philosophy alone can raise man to that grand ele vation which enables him to perform acts that cen turies will admire. Philosophy alone can place him
"Above all pain, all passion, and all pride,
Above the reach of flattery's baleful breath,
The lust of lucre, and the dread of death."
There are things that no human legislation can accomiplish.  Perhaps he who considers the supreme
difficulties incident to our political position may look
at the picture almost in despair, and come to the conclusionll that in such a case no human statesmanship
can avail.
But let us take courage. Once in the history of
the world has a parallel attempt at the union of a
continent been made.  In the eleventh century was
born a great man, who resolved to convert all Europe into one federation, with the Sovereign Pontiff
at its head, and Emperors and Kings his proconsuls
-that Europe which, as we have seen, presents all
soits of climates and all kinds of modified men.  A
religious foundation was, under the circumstances,
the only one that could be given to the contemplated
structure; but Gregory VII. saw not only its capabilities, but its defects, as any one may find who will
consider his relations with the heretic Berengar.
Those defects he would have remedied if he could,
and brought that foundation into more complete accordance with human reason.
F
81 
UN'ION IN AMNERICA.
What was the practical instrument on which Gregory VII. relied in carrying out his intention   Ilis
legates could pass from Scotland to Spain, firom the
Atlantic to the confines of Asia, and miiiet in every
monastery and at every church men spealking the
same tongue. The Latin language gave him intelligent allies all over Christendom, but allies only
among the men of education.  With us, how much
better is the prospect-one language from ocean to
ocean, and that among the lowly as well as the high.
That'ond of union is for us a bond of strength. It
aids in compensating for diversities of climate. It
gives us a common history of the past, a common
hope for the fiuture.  Conterminous groups of men
are far more effectually isolated by different formis of
speech than by intervening rivers and mountains, but
groups that are far apart may be in communion
through a common tongue.  They may learn to have
faith in the greatness and permanence of their political creations, and in unbroken unity discern unconquerable power.
With such an inappreciable advantage in our favor, wee are encouraged to look again at the great
problem before us, and to ask, Can wve not neutralize
those climate differences, which, if unchecked, must
transmute us into different nations?
In two words, I think, we find an answer-Education and Intercolmmunication. Nor is this the sug
82 
EDUCATION.
gestion of mere theorists. Under that formula four
hundred millions of men —one third of the human
race-have found stability for their institutions in
China.  By their public school system they have organized their national intellect; by their canal system they have made themselves, though living in a
climate as diversified as ours, essentially one people.
The principle on which their political system is thus
founded has for many thousand years confronted successfully all human variations, and has outlived all
revolutions. But what is their public education
compared with what ours might be? what is their
canal system compared with what our railroads will
become?
Of education I shall have nothing more to say, for
all intelligent persons concur in the belief that it is
absolutely necessary to the perpetuity of the American system. The public value of locomotion is by no
means so well understood. While legislation has in
all directions been brought to bear on the protection,
encouragement, development of the former; the latter, it may be said, has been altogether neglected in a
national point of view.
Talleyrand, when speaking of the United States to
the Emperor Napoleon, made this remark: "It is a
giant without bones." That was before there were
any railroads; but since his day the bones have begun to grow, and they are bones of iron.
83 
LOCOMOTION.
Now, since there is all unceasing tendency to the
modification of the human system by the operation
of climate, and evils ensue both by a community
coming into repose, which is politically falling into
a stagnant condition, and by the antagonisms that
arise between conterminous communities that have
thus passed into different states, it is very plain that
the thing of primary importance to be accomplished
is, as far as muay be possible, to prevent such climate
actions reaching their full effect. This can only be
done by promoting locomotion.
It is therefore unwise to give legislative encouragement to any thing that may tend to make  communities, or even families, too stationary. Fortunately, the intentions of the statesman, in this respect, are
greatly facilitated by the established usages respectimg the inheritance of property and the incessant
breaking up of estates. Not less effectual is the system of agriculture, if such it can be called, that we
pursue-our practice of killing land. A soil that has
undergone exhaustion of certain of its essential ingredients, as bone-earth, potash, or the like, can not be
economically restored. It is much cheaper to abandon the ruined estate and move to the virgin lands
of the West. That love of the homestead, so characteristic of the settled populations of Europe, can
scarcely be said to exist among us. The children
leave their father's hearth without reluctance, for he
84 
NECESSITY OF PUBLIC LOCOMOTION.
is perpetually anticipating leaving it himself. It
might have been feared- perhaps was feared by
many observant persons-that this loss of local patriotism would imply the loss of national sentiment,
but the experience of the civil war has shown the incorrectness of such a foreboding. The history of the
world can not furnish a more splendid example of unwavering fortitude, unshrinking self-sacrifice, in vindication of national life. The acts of which it has been
our privilege to be eye-wwitnesses, will by future generations of Americans be pointed to with pride as the
greatest glory of their history-an incentive in their
inevitable march to imperial greatness, a firm support
in their days of trial.
The customs and usages of American domestic life
have therefore, to a certain extent, made us a locomotive people.  Not without reason have many foreign
travelers affirmed that we are essentially a nomadic
race.  It is well for our future that we are so.
It should be a settled principle of American legislation to encourage in every possible manner facilities for intercommunication, to repress in the most
effectual way any thing that might possibly act as a
restraint.
From the results of the policy that has been pursued in the case of the Post-office system, very valuable suggestions may be gathered. By reducing the
cost of the transmission of letters and newspapers to
85 
NECESSITY OF PUBLIC LOCOMOTION.
the smallest possible amount, conspicuous social advantages have been gained.  The family tie has been
knit in spite of separation, the public intellect has
been enlarged by the diffusion of general information. That mental activity which arises from the
concentration of masses of men in great cities is felt
sympathetically in the most sparsely peopled and distant countlry places.  During the civil war metropolitan journalism has every where been recognized as a
liviing power.
But it is not enough that there should be free
movemnient for thought; free movement for the people themselves is of equal importance. That is the
true method for combating climate effects-preventing communities from falling into Asiatic torpor, and
contracting senseless antipathies against each other.
Had the Southern States for the last ten years been
pervaded by an unceasing stream of Northern travel
in every direction, the civil war would not have occurredl.
Experience shows that travel increases as its cost
diminishes.  Whatever, therefore, operates as a tax
on locomotion, is inconsistent with the highest principles of state policy. No community should be per.
mitted to take advantage of the geographlical position
it may happen to occupy for the purpose of exacting
a toll for its own profit.  Such practices may suit an
Arab sheikh or other Asiatic chieftain, who levies a
86 
NECESSITY OF PUBLIC LOCOMOTION.
contribution on the passing caravan, but is altogether
inadmissible in a modernized society. A community
can not perpetrate this act without becoming politically debauched and demoralized. It is an offense
against the highest public interests.
When the Railway system was first being developed in England, measures were taken to give to the
government an eventual and thorough control over
it.  Already in that country it is agitated to consummate those measures by the State assuming the proprietorship of the roads, equalizing their rates of
charge, and reducing those rates to  a mlinimum.
There can be no doubt that such a consummation
would produce very powerful social effects. In its
direction it would act in the same mainner that the
changes in the postal system have done, those social
effects being all of an advantageous kind.  But England, her comparatively restricted geographical extent being considered, is not pressed by those climate
considerations that are of such paramount importance
in America.  Her reasons for action in the matter are
therefore, it may be said, of a very subordinate kind
compared with those that concern us.  In America,
transportation at the lowest possible cost assumes the
attitude of an affair of the highest state necessity.
Iln view of that state necessity, all local and individual interests must be compelled to give  way.
How far in future years, when these problems are
87 
EFFECTS OF LOCOMOTION.
publicly better understood than at present, it may be
found politically expedient to give to the general
government a control, with the intention of carryilang
the principles here indicated into effect, it is needless
at present to consider.
Besides the physiological effect of locomotion in
thus preventing a permanent impress filom Climate,
it has moral consequences of no little value. These
will b)e seen if we compare the condition of Europe
before the Crusades with its condition subsequently.
Vast hordes of men under a fanatical impulse were
precipitated upon the Holy Land.  Comning indiscrilminately from all classes of communities that were
scarcely elevated above barbarism, the Crusaders
were suddenly brought in contact with people inhal)iting countries that for ages had been the seats
of civilization.  Their ideas were  not only enlarged,
but their very style of tlhinking was changed.  Whoever escaped the perils of these religious enterprises
became, on his return to his native place, an influential and authoritative teacher. There was a wveakenimg of the force of those maxims that heretofore had
been a guide, society relieving itself of the stress of
former modes of thought.  It may be doubted whetlher that great religious movement known as the Reformationl  would have been possible had it not been
for the occurrence of the Crusades, the precipitation
of whatever there was enterprising in Europe upon
88 
CHANGES TIIROUGII MERCANTILE ACTIVITY.
Asia.  If they did no more, they certainly accelerated
its occurrence by several hundred years.
In like manner, the discovery of America by Columnbus, the doubling of the Cape by De Gama, and the
circumnavigation of the world by Magellan, through
the prodigious military and mercantile activity they
generated, led to equally important results. Trade,
which until then had been chiefly overland or terrestrial, became maritime, a change important in the
highest degree, since it eventually gave rise to the
prodigious development of manufacturing industry.
Heavy masses of goods can never be transported by
caravans, though they can easily ill ships. The geographical value of countries was changed.  Egypt,
for instance, lost her position.  The commiercial arrangements of Europe were completely dislocated.
Venice and Genoa were deprived of their mercantile
supremacy; prosperity left the Italian towns; the
commercial monopolies so long in the hands of the
European Jews were broken down.  These were the
first steps of that maritime development soon exhibited by Western Europe. And since commercial
prosperity is forthwith followed by the production
of men and the concentration of wealth, and, moreover, implies an energetic intellectual condition, it appeared before long that the three centres of population, of wealth, and of intellect were shifting westwardly. The front of Europe was suddenly changed;
89 
NECESSITY OF MOTION TO LIFE.
the British Islands, hitherto in a sequestered and eccentric position, were all at once put in the van of
the new movement.  Wealth poured in, and markets
were sought for all over the globe.  The separate
principalities and kingdoms were taught to act in
unison, and the idea of Europe-united Europe-v-was
made mianifest.
Life, whether social or personal, is a condition implying movement.  Its energy is in proportion to the
activity with which interior motions are made.  In
the animal body the blood circulates through every
part, here carrying away worn-out and wasted material, there presenting new substances to accomplish
needful repairs. If one region be too hot, the everflowing blood bears away with it the excess of temperature; if another be too cold, the blood imparts to
it some of its ovli warmth.  In this manner there is
a perpetual equalization of differences, a continual
restoration of structure.  Particles that are in excess
at one point are dissolved, and carried to others
where they may be of more use.
For the healthy condition of the social system an
unceasing movement is also needed.  There is an
ennui into which a nation may fall.  Hence the injunction —move, if it only be for the sake of moving
-really conveys a practical good, and in this sense
motion may be looked upon not only as a mleans, but
also as an end.
90 
NATIONAL INTERIOR MOTION.
Now, when we consider the position of the American continent-its Atlantic front looking upon  Europe, its Pacific front looking upon Asia;  when we
reflect how much Nature has done for it in the wonderful river system she has bestowed, and how varied are the mineral and agricultural products it
yields, it would seem as if we should be constrained
by circumstances to carry out spontaneously in practical life the abstract suggestionls of policy.  A  country that stands at the head of all others in its producing power must of necessity continually increase
its interior means of motion.  Great undertakings,
such as the construction of the Pacific Railroad, pressed into existence by commercial motives and fostered
for military reasons, will indirectly accomplish political objects not yielding in importance to those that
are obvious and avowed.
A few years more, and the influence of the Great
Republic w-ill resistlessly extend ill a direction that
will lead to surprising results.  So importunate and
increasing is the demand for human labor, so tempting its remuneration, so productive its use, that those
stagnant Asiatic tribes to which our attention has in
some of these pages been directed, can not fail to be
affected.  The stream of Chinese emigration already
setting into California is but the precursor of the
flood that is to come.  Here are the fields, there are
the men.  The dominant Power on the Pacific Ocean
91 
92       POSITION OF THE AMERICAN REPUBLIC.
must necessarily exert a controlling influence in the
affairs of Asia.
The Roman Empire is regarded, perhaps not un justly, as the most imposing of all human political
creations. Italy extended her rule across the eastern
and western basins of the Mediterranean Sea, firom
the confines of Parthia to Spain.  A  similar central
but far grander position is occupied by the American
continent. The partitions of an interior and narrow
sea are replaced by the two great oceans. But, since
History ever repeats itself, the maximns that guided
the policy of Rome in her advance to sovereignty are
not without application here. Her mistakes may be
monitions to us.
A great, a homogeneous, and yet an active people,
having strength and security in its political institutions, may look forward to a career of glory.  It may,
without offense, seek to render its life memorable in
the annals of the human race. 
CHAPTER II.
ON THE EFFECTS OF EMIGRATION.
A(d)iitting  the correctness of the division of Society inzto three
gr-ca(des, as establishe( by afcehicvelli, the efect arisingfrom)
the em))igration of each of those gractdes is considered, cnd il  ltestrations from the history of Spain and Englaond examined.
The extinction of the Romnans and diftsion of the Arabs are
traced to t/heirphysiological cacuses.
17Te political conisecptenices of imi)miyrctio) are illustrated by the
establishment of the Cotton   a factre in Europe and Negro
slovery in America.
T7he can te -historic settlement of EEurope by  immigrants from
Asia, cs dletermined by the moder) mzethodcls of li)gutistic re  search, is next considceredl, the lawes of Polgttlotion explainiedl
in connection therewith, and the necessity of materitl to mnor  al changes s(ggested.
31achiavelli's'rincil)les and the foreyoi)?g results care then alp plied to the Un~ited Stctes-i st. E,tropeon immnigrction in tlhe
N-orth; 2(1. l/?ternal emigration to tlhe West; 3d. Prospective
em)igyration, to tle South; 4th. Asiatic immnigration to the Pa  cfi'c Stutes.  Thte evils contingent on the spread of Polygac?y,
cindt the ge)2eral efects of all these mnove))e)its on the wvealth
and grundeur of the Ilepezblic, are shown.
PRESSURE at home andcl inducement abroad perpetually incite men to leave their native country andl
settle in foreign lands.
In considering the effect of suclh emigrations, wie
must  )ear in miind tlhe statement of Maclliiaelli, that 
PRINCIPLES OF EMIGRATION.
in every great society there are necessarily three orders of men-a superior order, who understand things
through their own v   unassisted menetal powers; an intermediate ordel, lwho understand things when they
are explained to them; a lower order, who do not understand at all.  Of the first, it may be added that
they are limited in number, but dominant in intelligence; of the second, that in modern countries having
free journalism they fall under its influence, the man
of this grade adopting the opinions of his accustomed
newspaper, and unconsciously retailing them as his
owvn; of the third, wvhich is by far the most numerous, its members pass through life in an intellectual
monotonous slumber-they think in monosyllables.
Noow, the political effect of emigrations depends
upon this conditioni from wvhichl of those three orders has the emigrating mass issued?  We detect the
guiding principle at a glance.  If the drain has been
from the lowver or laboring class, the cousequent result may- not amount to much, for the diminution of
that class is capable of quick repair.  The self-multiplying force of an old society is, as wve shall shortly
find, greater than the number realized, w-hichl is kept
downv by resisting influences; and just as the atnosphere will press into an exhausted space, so will that
unsatisfied, that restrained power  of multiplication
quickly fill up the vacancy that has been made.
On  the other hand, should the migrating body
94 
Pl'INCIPLES OF EMIIGRATION.
have diminished seriously the number of the highest
class, the result is a far more important, a far more
permanent affair. A loss of the direct influence of
these men is no inconsiderable thing; for, no matter
what may be the form of government the affected
community may live under, they wvill and do control
public thought.  Still more, Society has no means of
recruiting at its pleasure the w-asted ranks of this
class.  Such individuals come at limited intervals,
and only here and there.
History furnishes uis with many instructive instances as evidences of these truths.
The discovery of America by Columbus completed
that iwonderfuil change ill Europe which had been begun by the Crusades.  After the German movements
that 1)rought the Roman Empire to an end had terminated, the lower strata of population fell into a
comparatively quiescent state. From this condition
they had not been sensibly disturbed by the political
events of the reign of Charlemagne.  The Holy Wars
may, how-ever, without exaggeration, be said to have
precipitated all Europe upon Asia.  A  vely great
intellectual change in the whole continent was the
result.
The Crusading outrush to the East was followed
on the discovery of America by an outrush of adventurers across the Atlantic to the West.  ReligioLs sentiment was superseded by avarice.  There
95 
SPANISH EMIGRATION.
was not a people in Europe who did not become involved. As might be expected from her position,
Spain wvas profoundly implicated in all her social
ranks. Her men of influence in civil life, in military
life, in ecclesiastical life, all emigrated across the
ocean.  The thirst for gold was too strong for even
the pride of family.  A paradise of unbounded sensual enjoyment in this life, riches exceeding whatever
the wildest dreams of fanatical alchemists had ever
suggested-a realized E1 Dorado-these were temptations that the hot Spanish blood could not resist.
The  melancholy Peruvian Inca, whose brow  was
adorned with a diadem of scarlet - tasseled fiiinge,
when he stretched out his finger on his prison wall,
and promised to give vessels of gold to that height
if they would restore himn to liberty, only added to
the fierce avarice of his tormentors.
What Spain did on this continent can never be
too often related - it ought never to be forgotten.
She acted with an appalling atrocity to those Indians, as though they did not belong to the human
race.  Their lands and goods were taken from them
by apostolic authority. Their persons were next
seized under the text that the heathen are given as
an inheritance, and the uttermost parts of the earth
for a possession.  It was one unspeakable outrage,
one unutterable ruin, without discriinination of age
or sex.  They Nwho died not under the lash in a trop
96 
SPANISH EMIGRATION.
ical sun, died in the darkness of the mine. From se questered sand-banks, where the red flamingo fishes
in the gray of the morning-firom fever-stricken mangrove thickets and the gloom of impenetrable forests
-fioom hiding-places in the clefts of rocks and the
solitude of invisible caves-from the eternal snows
of the Andes, where there was no witness but the
all-seeing sun, there went up to God a cry of human
despair.  By  millions upon millions, whole races
and nations were remorselessly cut off. The Bishop
of Chiapa aflirms that more than fifteen millions were
exterminated in his time.  From Mexico and Peru a
civilization that might have instructed Europe was
crushed out.
The crime of Spain became her punishment.  Look
at her present state! Where is all that enterprise,
that energy, that intelligence, which made her the
leading nation of Europe?  Lost in the wilds of
America, swamped in Indian blood.  Has she found
it possible to recruit that true intellectual aristocracy
she lost? The emigration of her best and bravest
wrought her irreparable ruin. The Mexican and
Peruvian have had their revenge.  There lies the deteriorated country utterly past cure.
In Europe there is another nation that fiom our
present point of view likewise claims our attention.
The English have peopled by emigration, within
three centuries, very large portions of the surface of
G
97 
ENGLISH EMIGRATION.
the earth.  The drain on that population has been,
for the most part, from the second and third classes,
the first having been implicated in it but to an insignificant extent.  This remark applies even to the extreme case of India, a country that might be supposed to offer very great temptations.
As respects the colonization of North America and
Australia, together with the less important points, as
South Africa and New Zealand, there was but little
inducement for those who prefer a life of learned
ease, or who seek by speedy methods social distinction.  The work to be accomplished was the hard
conquest of Nature, the removing of forests, extracting the fruits of the earth, founding of cities, establishment of trade.  On the other hand, in the parent
country there was an ancient and firmly seated aristocracy, an established church withli great endowmeints, a law of primogeniture, and the not difficult
attainment of eminent distinction by approved talent.  In a double manner, then, these circumstances
tendedl to restrain the first class firom participating in
the movement; and a singular benefit was undoubtedly derived, as wve see in the result, for the intrinsic
strenlgthl of that nation has, beyond question, from
these emigrations suffered no decline.
In certain particulars English Emigration resenmbles the Emigrations from Ancient Greece. Both
cases present a restricted territory as the immediate
98 
MIEDITERRANEAN EMIGRATION.
inciting cause, and a tendency to colonization as the
form. On the shores of the Mediterranean and
Black Seas, from  Sinope to Saguntutm, were scattered affiliated settlements.  These probably  were
founded on the general principles first adopted by
Tyre, a city that led the way in the organization of
European, Asiatic, and North African commerce.
The wealth accumulated by some of these colonial
towns led to such habits of luxury as to excite the
wonder of antiquity, and actually to become proverbial. The debaucheries and dissipation of the Sybarites were sustained by  their lucrative commerce.
This intercolonial trade was chiefly for slaves, mineral products, articles of manufacture, tin, bronze, oil,
amber, dyed goods, and worked metals.  Position or
accident made particular towns the chief marts for
special commodities. Thus, Delos was the great dep6t for slaves.  It is affirmed that as many as ten
thousand were sold there in a single day.  Notwithstanding their wealth, none of the Grecian colonies
attained the political power of the greatest of the
Tyrian colonies, Carthage, w7hich maintained for many
years and through many wars a nearly evenly balanced military power withl PRome itself.
The intrinsic weakness of such colonial systems is
shown by the fate of those of Tyre and Greece.  Both
were ruined by the policy of Alexander the Great.
Though the former city had suffered severely in her
99 
TYRE AND ALEXANDRIA.
contests with the Babylonian Empire, and Old Tyre
had been destroyed after a siege of thirteen years
by a Babylonian king, her site being made "as bare
as the top of a rock on which the fisherman spreads
his nets," and "the isles of the sea were troubled at
her departure," the new City had succeeded to much
of the commercial prosperity of the Old.  It was not
from any vindictive spirit, but because he discerned
plainly the political power derived through its position, that Alexander resolved on the utter destruction of the place. He took it, after a siege of seven
months, by building a mole from the main land to
the island on which the town stood.  Immediately
after the assault, in which a vast multitude of its defenders fell, two thousand of the inhabitants were
crucified. With the fall of Tyre the domination of
Asia as a MIediterranean power came to an end, and
with the foundation of Alexandria came the commercial ruin of Greece.
It is singular howv completely these prosperous colonial settlements, with the single exception of Carthage, disappeared politically on the extinction of
their commercial centres.  Such establishments can
never be a source of powver to the mother country.
If she relies upon them, they will fail her in her hour
of need. Founded for the sake of gain, a habit of
greed grows upon them-so much that they become
unwilling to bear sacrifices, even though obviously
Nor their own good.
*,   e 
100 
AMERICAN IMMIGRATION.
What Tyre and Greece were in the Mediterranean
Sea, which was almost the world to them, England
has been on the greater theatre of the globe. She
has founded by emigration colonies in North Amierica, the West Indies, South Africa, Australia, New
Zealand, India.  In forty-three years, counting from
1815, the close of her wars with France, she sent
forth about four and a half millions of souls.
Though the intention of the English in these movemients has chiefly been the founding of colonies, the
motive has varied at different times. In the case of
that which events have proved to have been by far
the most important of them all-the Puritan emigration-it wvas religious sentiment.
For many years the European current of emigration to the United States was comparatively feeble.
It was mainly derived from England, Ireland, Scotland, and Germany, and continued at a nearly uniform annual rate from the American Revolution until about 1806. From 1784 to 1794 the yearly rate
wvas only about 4000. In the latter year it rose to
10,000, but never recovered that point again until
1817.  This falling off wvas due to the European wars,
which not only created an urgent demand for men,
both for land and sea service, but also to the enforcement of the principle at that time insisted upon by
the English government, that a subject could never
throwv off his allegiance-" once a subject, always a
101 
AMERICAN IMMIGRATION.
subject."  Experience had led to the conclusion that
not much reliance could be placed on the affection a
man may spontaneously feel for the country of his
birth, an affection arising fiom the recollections of
early life.
In 1817, when the fear of English impressment
had passed away, the emigration to the United States
rose to 22,240. In this aggregate there were included
many native-born Americans, who had, through the
accidents of the war, been detained in Europe, and
were now returning.  Due allowance made for this,
the sudden impetus may be traced to the declining
demand for men for military and naval purposes, the
great derangement in the pursuits of the working
classes as a state of war was exchanged for a state
of peace, and the financial disturbances which were
occurring or impending.
The current now steadily gathered force. In 36{
years, ending December 31st, 1855, the United States
received nearly four millions and a quarter of immigrants. Among them are found
1,348,682 British.             747,930 Irish.
1,206,087 Germans.             34,599 Scotch.
207,492 English.              188,725 French.
Under the title "British," in this table, are included
English, Scotch, and Irish; their relative proportions
can not now be ascertained.  Competent authorities
102 
AMERICAN IMIMIGRATION.
have, however, been led to the conclusion that of
these at least one million were from Ireland.  This
would make the total Irish immigration for that period 1,747,930.
From the best estimates now accessible, it appears
that the total imluigration in the United States, since
the Revolution to the close of 1855, has been nearly
four and a half millions:
Imimigrants up to Sept. 30th, 1819.   250,000
6 "   "Dec. 31st, 1855. 4,212,624
4,462,624
In a general manner, it may therefore be affirmed
that the United States have gained as much from Europe by immigration, as Great Britain has lost from
her domestic population by emigration.  At the commencemuent of the civil war the number did not differ
much from five millions.
It might be supposed that the English emigration,
as was the case with the Greek, originated mainly
from over-population at home, but to this cause must
unquestionably be added a willing disposition to re.
sort to expatriation. If these movements have been
promoted in the British Islands by the facilities aris.
ing from the same language being spoken in America, that motive will not apply to the case of Germany
as it stands in comparison with that of France. The
Germian immigration has been nearly seven fold that
of France. It has long been remarked that the shep
103 
TRIBAL AND INDIVIDUAL EMIGRATION.
herd population, which in ancient times reached from
the Baltic to China, was perpetually occupied in warlike migrations, readily uniting itself under chieftains
to make incessant attacks on the Asiatic empires, and
eventually accomplishing the destruction of the Roman. It kept every thing ill a disturbed state. Not
until Central Europe became engaged in other pursuits did these commotions cease.
The essential difference between ancient and mnodern migrations consists in this, that the former were
tribal, the latter individual, and, indeed, continually
becoming more and more exclusively so. A tribe
forciing itself into the seats of its neighbor can only
accomplish its purpose by violence, which necessarily
provokes resistance. The movements of the Goths,
the Hulns, the MAagyars, the Turks, the Tartars, are
cases in point; but where the movement is individual, the intruder is quietly and imperceptibly melted
down in the population among whom hlie has come.
But, though tribal emigration has thus declined
into individual, the races that were expansive in the
ancient times still continue to be so. In the case of
emigration to the United States, the obstruction arising from difference of language applied quite as miuch
to the Germans as to the French. Admitting the
great drain there had been upon the latter through
their revolutionary and imperial wars, there were
certainly as great temptations for them in Canada,
104 
CHANGES BY EMIGRATION.
as there were for the former in the Union. The
Teutons and Saxons have never lost their wandering
propensity, though, with the progress of civilization,
which has imparted safety and rapidity to individual
locomotion, the manner of satisfying it has changed.
This change from tribal to individual emnigration
tends to restrict the movement to the third social
grade.  It is by that class that domestic pressure
and foreign inducement are most powerfully felt;
and hence, though the losses of Great Britain have
been numerically so great, her intrinsic strength, as
already remarked, has suffered no decline.
The transplantation of men can not be accomplished without physiological modifications ensuing. I
may now indicate, in a general manner, the principles governing those modifications.
When, from its original seat, a people is suddenly
transposed to some new abode, in which the climate,
the seasons, the aspect of Nature are altogether different, it spontaneously commences in all its parts a
movement to come into harmony with the new conditions-a movement of a secular nature, and implying the consumption of many generations for its accomplishment. During such a period of transmutation there is, of course, an increased waste of life, a
risk, indeed, of total disappearance or national death;
but, the change once completed, the requisite corre
105 
CHANGE BY BLOOD-ADMIXTURE.
spondence once attained, things go forward again in
an orderly manner on the basis of the new modification that has been assumed. When the change to
be accomplished is very profound, involving extensive anatomical alterations, not merely in the appearance of the skin, but even in the structure of the
skull, long periods of time are undoubtedly required,
and many generations of individuals are consumed.
Or, by interior disturbance, particularly by blood
admixture, with more rapidity may a national type
be affected, the result plainly depending on the extent to which admixture has taken place. This is a
disturbance capable of mathematical computation.
If the blood admixture is only of limited amount
and transient in its application, its effect will sensibly disappear in no very long period of time, though
never, perhaps, in absolute reality.   This accords
with the observation of philosophical historians, who
agree in the conclusion that a small tribe intermuingling with a larger one will only disturb it ill a temporary manner, and after the course of a few years
the effect will cease to be perceptible. The incoming
stream not only brings its physical peculiarities, but
its mental peculiarities too.  Its intrinsic force is,
however, very far from being as great as might have
been anticipated, for its own condition, through climiate, is about to change; it has not, therefore, that
fixity of purpose and resolution that it possessed in
106 
NATIONAL HOMOGENEOUSNESS.
its native seat. The tendency to homogeneousness
is all the time felt. It is as if a few drops of water
were put into a tumbler of wine, and the water itself
gradually turning into wine.  In the first moments
the admixture might be apparent enough, but it
would become indistinguishable at last.
Moreover, as the invaded community gradually
grows or expands, the same intrusive volume is of
relatively less and less effect.
National homogeneousness is thus obviously secured by the operation of two distinct agencies-the
first, gradual but inevitable dilution; the second, miotion to come into harmony with the external natural
state. The two conspire in their effects.
Homogeneousness in a nation makes it conservative, and secures its internal stability by producing a
common direction of thought; for though, of necessity, the different orders of population occupy themselves mentally with different things, it does not follow but that the modes of thinking of all may be
alike. Historians have long remarked how strikingly this holds good in the old empires of Asia; and
that, though monarchs and their ministers may be
punished during political troubles, it never occurs to
any one that the system is wrong, or that it needs
the slightest change.  On the contrary, in Europe
the different orders think differently; there is an intrinsic difference between the conclusions of the in
107 
108     BLOOD-ADMIXTURE AFFECTS TIIOUGHIT.
telligent few and the fetichisms of the innumerable
illiterate mass. This is the cause that on that con tinent government has become so difficult, and that
there is nothing certain as to its right principles, and
no unanimity in religion.
The foregoing principles are illustrated in a striking manner by the history of the Romans.  From a
central nucleus in Italy they spread all round the
Mediterranean Sea.  Greek, Asiatic, Syrian, Egyptian,
African, Spaniard, Gaul, Briton, were all conquered
and contaminated by them, and contaminated them
in return.  But how stood the numerical relation?
What was the blood of Italy transfused into all that
foreign blood? and vwhat, in the nature of the thing,
must become of the Romans? They were literally
dissolved and lost in the conterminous races.  With
them went all their ideas, all their institutions.
Their political forms vanished-their religious forms,
their paganism, disappeared. On the contrary, the
thoughts of the conquered people vanquished the
thoughts of the Romans.  In the most important of
all instances that can be adduced, we see how true
this is. Christianity did not originate in Imperial
Rome; it was not imposed by her on the provinces.
It originated in the provinces, and was by them
forced on the reluctant arbitress of the world.
In this mortal adulteration of the true Roman
blood there was one particular influence deserving 
SOCIAL CORRUPTION IN ROME.
our thoughtful attention. It operated ill the very
heart of the Empire-in Italy itself. Incredible dis.
sipationl, the offspring of enormous riches, sapped so
ciety. In the reigns of the first Emperors it was
looked upon as a singular felicity to have no family.
I can here only touch lightly on that state of things;
but w-lioever will reflect on the subject will see that
the matter must have pressed severely on the state
before law after law, each more stringent than its
predecessor, was enacted to correct the evil. The
thing went on from bad to worse, until slave - concubinage was almost universal.  No language can describe the state of Rome after the civil wars. The
accumulation of power and wealth gave rise to a
universal depravity.  Law ceased to be of any value.
A suitor must deposit a bribe before a trial could be
had. The social fabric was a festering mass of rottenness. The people had become a populace, the
aristocracy was demoniac, the city was a hell. No
crime that the annals of human wickedness can show
was left unperpetrated.  Remorseless murders; the
betrayal of husbands, wives, friends; poisoning reduced to a system.   Legal  marriage had almost
ceased.  The younger women had become so incredibly extravagant that the men affirmed they could
not support them.  In the time of Cesar it was necessary for the government to interfere, and actually
put a premiumn on marriage.  He gave rewards to
109 
SOCIAL CORRUPTION IN ROME.
women who had many children; prohibited those
who were under forty-five years of age, and who had
no children, from wearing jewels and riding in litters,
hoping by such social disabilities to correct the evil.
Finding that this was of no avail, Augustus, in view
of the general avoidance of legal marriage and resort
to concubinage with slaves, was compelled to impose penalties on the unmarried-to enact that they
should not inherit by will, except from relations.
Plutarch emphatically stigmatized the condition when
he wrote, "The Romans marry to be heirs, and not to
have heirs."
Nations can not be permanently modified except
by principles or actions conspiring with their existing tendency. Violence perpetrated upon them passes away, leaving, perhaps, in a few generations, no
vestige of itself. Even Victory is conquered by Time.
The extinction of Races of men is never accomplished
by Force, but by insidious agencies, that modify the
men themselves.
Such was the effect as regards the Roman race.  It
slowly died out in Italy itself; and, particularly after
the wars of Justinian, the German tribes flowed in to
fill the void. The splendid architecture, the magnificent recollections, the glorious sky, the fields that
had been so lately a garden did these forthwith
raise the intruders to the standard of the departed?
Changes in the human race take time. For a thlou
110 
THE MODERN ITALIAN.
sand years the condition of that population was as
debased as it is possible for that of a community to
be. MAeanwhile climate and the aspect of nature
were gradually doing their work, and out of such
base material the modern Italian arose.
There is a tendency in a hybrid offspring to exhibit a preference for that which may be regarded
as the more honorable of its constituents, and this
even though the commingling has occurred in a violent way, as by conquest.  The barbarian invasions
of Italy had in a few centuries in this manner coinpletely amalgamated the remnant of the Roman eth.
nical element that still remained in the peninsulaso completely, that the old manners were gone, the
old religion supplanted, the language dead.  Yet the
conquering element acknowledged the supremacy of
the conquered.  It willingly forgot its traditions beyond the Danube, and cherished a delusive pride in
the glory of the great republican times.
Blood degeneration implies thought degeneration.
As the great statesman to whom I have already referred, himself an Italian, and profoundly appreciating
these things, observes, Cesar and Pompey had disappeared, John, Mattlhew, and Peter had come in their
stead.  Barbarized names are the outward and visible signs of barbarized ideas. It was nothing more
than might be expected that, in this mongrel riace,
customs, and language, and even names, should change
III 
ARABIAN EMIGRATION.
-that rivers, and towns, and men should receive new
appellations.  Nor was it until the Italian population
had re-established itself in a physiological relation
with the country that manly thoughts and true conceptionls could be regained. Ideas and dogmas, that
would not have been tolerated for an instant in the
pure old homogeneous Roman race, found acceptance
in this adulterated, this festering mnass.
I will still farther enforce these principles by an illustration scarcely inferior in weight to that furnished by Rome herself.
Hitherto we have been considering Nations, civilized and barbarian, who were animated by ideas that
wve may strictly term European.  But these principles are illustrated with equal emphasis if the communities under examination are Asiatic.
When, under Mohammed and his successors, the
Arabians burst forth from their native seats and carried their conquering arms into the heart of Asia on
one side, and to the Atlantic Ocean on the other, so
rapid w-as their diffusion, so small their own mass, so
prodigious the volume of humanity with which they
mixed, that it might have seemed impossible but that
an instant fate should overtake them -their conquests ephemeral, themselves vanishing away. But
the very reverse occurred. For centuries in succession, the countries they had conquered they held;
nay, more, they literally Arabized them.
112 
EFFECTS OF POLYGAMY.
The explanation of this surprising political result
turns altogether on the position of the female sex
among Asiatics. In barbarous states the woman is
the slave of the man; the Asiatic makes her his toy,
the European his companion.  The avarice of the for mer for beauty is replaced in the latter by an avarice
for wealth. The treasures of the one are placed in a
harem, those of the other are invested inll the public
funds.
The natural position of the female sex in this respect is indicated at once by the relation of numbers.
In Europe, for every 106 male births there are 100
female; hence we may truly affirm that monogamy
is the proper condition of our species, and that, apart
from its social evils, polygamy is an unnatural state.
But, though this is the scientific conclusion to
which we must come, no one can deny the prodigious political power of polygamic institutions.  What
must be the inevitable result when there were single
families sometimes of nearly two hundred children,
who were all glorying in their descent front their
conquering father and speaking his tongue?  Was it
to be wondered at that tribute in all the vanquished
countries soon ceased, and that the physiognomy and
mental constitution of the Arab every where prevailed?
To this, the direct effect of polygamy, we must add
the influence of that most ungallant practice of the
H
113 
POSITION OF WOMEN IN THiE EAST.
Asiatics, the exclusion of their women from society.
It cut off effectually what little influence was left.
We need not believe them when they say that they
do not do this through jealousy; nor need we accept
their defamation, that so deeply implanted in the female heart is the love of fashion and novelty, that
there is no grotesqueness too surprising for women to
imitate; that, if unconfined, they produce a continual
change of customs and an unsettled state; and that
any community desiring stability and permanence
must shut them up.
That is their shameful slander, that their scandalous practice. If they do gain their wished-for stagnation, what is the price they pay? -the family.
The monogamous habit makes the family. It leads
to the accumulation and transmission of wealth from
generation to generation in the same house. With
this arises a liability to a concentration of power in
castes, and the use of surnames that perpetuate family interests and family pride. In Europe the career of improvement is in the Society, in Asia it is in
the Individual.  Doubtless, in Asia, there are women
who can more than rival the bewitching fascinations
of their European sisters-women of exquisite form
and of transcendent loveliness. A village in Palestine was the birthplace of the Madonna!  But
among us there is more than all that-something
that they can never see, something that is produced
114 
THE SARACENS IN EUROPE.
by the family and social relation, for it is therein that
the beautiful qualities of our women shine forth.
At the close of a long life, checkered with pleasures
and misfortunes, how often does the aged man with
emotion confess that, though all the ephemeral ac quaintances and attachments of his career have end ed ill disappointment and alienation, the wife of his
youth is still his friend! In a world from which
every thing else seems to be passing away, her affectionl alone is unchanged-true to him in sickness as
in health, in misfortune as in prosperity, true in the
hour of death.
Thus, in the spread of the Arabians, if the sword
made the conquest, Polygamy secured it. A social
remodeling in all the subjugated countries took effect. There lies the secret of the permanence of the
Arab and of the disappearance of the Roman.
Besides the effects here pointed out, the Mohammedan emigration into Europe has left an impression
so deep as to impart a characteristic feature to modern civilized life. To those Orientals we must impute the immediate origin of the scientific and industrial pursuits of our own times. Nay, more, their
ideas and the consequences of their actions, both for
evil and for good, have tinctured the daily life of
America. An art introduced by the Arabians into
Spain was the inciting cause of the great development of the Slave system in the United States-that
115 
MOORISH ART AND SCIENCE.
system for the sake of which the civil war was provoked. For, though in one respect the growth and
manufacture of cotton may be said to be indigenous
here, since fabrics of that material were extensively
used by the Mexicans at the time of the conquest by
Cortez, it was not the spread of this, but of the European cotton industry, that has affected the Southern States so profoundly.
It is scarcely possible to refer to a more striking
instance of the impression that may be made by the
habits of emigrants on the communities in which they
have resided. The Moors have long ago been removed from Spain, but the arts they there introduced
have spread to other countries, and permanently influenced their life.
It has sometimes been asked, not without an air
of triumph, where are the proofs of our indebtedness
to the Mohammedans, and especially to the Moorish
invaders of Spain?  It has likewise been asserted
that the Saracenic mind never rose above mere comlmentatorship upon Greek originals in matters of science, and in matters of art was altogether barren and
worthless. So far as science is concerned, I have elsewhere shown how untrue and unjust such a statement is, and that, in reality, the scientific knowledge
of modern Europe is the offspring of the conquest
of Spain; that it was a boon not only received with
reluctance, but actually resisted with bitterness by
116 
THE COTTON MANUFACTURE.
our forefathers, because its fundamental principles
were supposed to be in opposition to their habits of
thought and interests. And now, as respects industrial art, in the midst of the miracles in which we
live, and which, within the last century, has not only
figuratively, but in reality, revolutionized the face of
the earth, the same assertion may be made. To the
Saracens we are indebted for the cotton manufacture.
Through their influence that art was extended friom
Japan to the Gulf of Guinea, from the Pyrenees to
the equinoctial line. They spread the use of that
material which at this day constitutes a chief source
of the wealth of manufacturing Europe and of agricultural America. As in the sciences-mathematics,
astronomy, chemistry, etc.-they have left an indelible impression, of which such words as algebra, almanac, alcohol, and many others that might be mentioned, are the enduring reminiscences, so in this branch
of industry there are like witnesses: not a few of its
terms that have been incorporated in our speech are
of Oriental origin.  The word cotton itself is Arabic;
miuslin is so called from Mosul, a city on the banks
of the Tigris, where was once the chief seat of its
manufacture; calico, from Calicut, in India. The under-garment worn by ladies passes under a name
whichl shows from whom they derived it, for chemise
is an Arabic word.
The cotton manufacture was commenced in Spain
117 
THE COTTON MANUFACTURE.
by Abderahman III. about A.D. 930, a period during
which attention seems to have been particularly di rected by the Moors to the improvement of agricul ture and manufactures, while the rest of Europe was
falling deeper and deeper into barbarism and night.
The Khalif introduced into the peninsula the sugar cane, rice, the mulberry-tree; with many improvements in such arts as tanning and the manufacture
of silk. Cotton was carried into Sicily by the Saracens on their occupancy of that island, and, indeed,
from Spain the use of it spread more or less all over
the north and east of Europe.  One of the MIohammedan applications of this vegetable product was
destined to be of the utmost value: it was the invention of cotton paper. The real merit of the invention
of the art of printing lies not, as is commonly supposed, in the contrivance of the press and types, but
in the making of paper. The process of multiplying
impressions by seals and stamps, which is essentially
a printing process, had been known from the remotest
antiquity; but such operations could never be made
available for the extensive dissemination of knowledge until something more abundant and cheaper
than papyrus and parchment was discovered. This
want was supplied by the Arabian cotton paper.  A
charter of Roger, king of Sicily, A.D. 1102, is expressly stated to have been written on that substance, and,
in fact, there are traces of its use somewhat earlier.
118 
HINXDOO COTTON MANUFACTURE.
The lIoors also made paper of linen long before it
was known in any other part of Europe.
But, though cotton wvas resorted to as an article of
clothing by the Arabs from the earliest times (from
the Khalif downward they wore dresses of it), there
was another Oriental nation who greatly excelled
them in the perfection of its manufacture. Long before the Macedonian invasion the Hindoos had practiced this art, and to our own times have maintained
so great an excellence in it, that those familiar with
the most recent improvements still speak of their
work with admiration.  "It is so beautifully fine,"
says one, "that it looks like the work of insects or
fairies." Another states that he has seen an entire
dress made of it drawn through a small ring; that
the spinners can make threads so fine as to be hardly
discernible-that you can not feel them with the finger; that when the cloth has been laid on the grass
to bleach, and the dew has fallen on it, it is actually
impossible to see it, justifying the designation that
has been applied to it-a web of woven wind; or the
condemnation once passed upon it by some  of the
manufacturers interested in fabrics of a coarser sort,
that it was "the mere shadow of a commodity."  In
the course of innumerable ages, by the practice of
this art in successive generations, so exquisite has the
sense of touch in the Hindoo spinner become, that he
can extend a single grain of cotton into a yarn twen
119 
HINDOO COTTON MANUFACTURE.
ty-nine yards in length, or one pound into more than
115 miles.  However, it must be added that the au tomatic engines of the English factories have excelled
that tenuity.  At the Great Exhibition there was a
sample answering to 1026 miles.  In India, the ma chinery both for spinning and weaving is of the sim plest kind, the personal tact of the operative supply ing every want, and that often under the most disad vantageous circumstances.  Beneath a shed or under
the shade of a tamarind -tree the Hindoo fixes his
clumsy loom, with every drawback from the oppress iveness or inclemency of the weather.  There is in
the production of this textile fabric something congenial to his habits; a sedentary life is in correspondence to the climate, and his personal organization is
more favorable to delicate tact than to muscular exertion. He shows little disposition to avail himself
of obvious improvements which would greatly shorten his labor, preferring to work in the same way that
his forefathers did.  It should nevertheless be remembered that the spinning-whleel is his invention, and it
is no insignificant improvement on the old spindle
and distaff. Writh all the disadvantage of this mental carelessness and immobility, the Mohlammedans
managed to spread the Hindoo cotton manufacture
into the Chinese Empire; and it is by no means uninteresting to notice, as showing the sameness of human nature in all countries, that this intrusion of the
120 
EUROPEAN COTTON MANUFACTURE.
cotton manufacture was resisted by the silk interest
among the Chinese upon the same principle and in
the same way as by the woolen interest in England.
Indeed, nearly all the European governments, under
the influence of similar motives, either restricted or
prohibited the use of cotton goods; and yet, in spite
of all such combinations, legislation, and opposition,
those fabrics have forced their way until they consti.
tute the chief article of clothing of the human race.
It is sometimes remarked, as a proof of the inferiority of the Asiatics, that this important manufacture
remained among them undeveloped and unimiproved
for more than four thousand years; whereas, when
the English took it up, they carried it in less than a
century to so great a degree of perfection, that a man
could do more work in a day than he had formerly
done in a year. Simultaneously other inventions of
the most momentous interest to civilization were introduced-the Canal system, the Steam-engine in all
its forms, stationary and locomotive, high pressure
and low, Railroads, the development of the Iron manufacture, and new methods for rendering all kinds of
machinery more exact in construction and perfect in
operation.
But I do not think that this inertness in India and
this activity in England are to be interpreted in the
way such writers suppose. Doubtless the position of
women in the social system of India had no little to
121 
EUROPEAN COTTON MANUFACTURE.
do with the result. An extensive introduction of
machinery never fails to touch domestic life.  Even
in England the various riots attending the introduction of the manufactures were mainly incited by the
apprehension that machinery was throwing the operatives out of work. Extraneous circumstances thus
not only arrest, but often enough destroy human occupations.  It is upon such principles that we must explain the total destruction of this very manufacture
in Spain after the expulsion of the Moors. The
Spanish Christian was not inferior to the Spanish
Mohammedan.  Our reflections on the Hindoos for
their incapacity in these improvements are of about
as little weight as were those of the woolen weavers
brought over to England by Edward III. It was
said that the English knew no more what to do with
wool than the sheep on whose backs it grew. And
this was on the eve of their great development of
that branch of industry.
To the Saracens we must therefore attribute the
introduction of cotton and the cotton manufacture
into Europe. It found its way into England under
circumstances in many respects interesting.  After
the capture of Antwerp by the Duke of Parma in
1 585, great numbers of workmen fled to England to
escape the sanguinary persecutions.  Among these
wvere many cotton artisans, who settled in Manchester, and were kindly received and patronized by the
122 
THE FACTORY SYSTEM.
authorities of that town. In the course of the next
hundred and fifty years the manufacture had become
firmly established, and a considerable cotton trade
had arisen with the Levant.  In the early part of the
last century the demand for these goods had become
so considerable that hand-labor had begun to be insufficient to satisfy it, and it was necessary to resort
to machinery.
In succession there appeared Wyatt's invention for
spinning by pairs of rollers turning with different
velocities, Paul's rotary carding engine, Arkwright's
great improvements, Hargreaves's jenny, Crompton's
mule, and many other contrivances of singular power
and beauty.
By these admirable inventions the cotton manufacture underwent so great a development as to require
an entire change in its economical management, and
hence arose the Factory System. The necessity for
this was due, at first, partly to the use of water-power for driving machinery, mills springing up wherever
suitable water-power existed; in part, also, to the obvious saving of time, trouble, and money when all the
operations are conducted under one roof and under
one supervision, instead of being managed, as they
formerly were, in a disconnected way, in cottages at a
distance from one another.
Though these great improvements in spinning had
taken place, the cotton manufacture could not have
123 
TIIE FACTORY SYSTEM.
attained its present surprising extent had it not been
for the contemporaneous invention of the steam - en gine- contemporaneous, for Watt's flrst patent was
taken out in 1769, the same year that Arkwright
patented spinning by rollers. Watt's improvements
chiefly consisted in the use of a separate condenser,
and the replacement of atmospheric pressure by that
of steam.  Still, it was not until 1790 that the steamengine was introduced into factories, and hence it was
not, as is commonly supposed, the cause of their wonderful increase.  It came, however, at an opportune
moment, its use in this application being nearly coincident with the invention of the dressing machine by
Radcliffe, and the power-loom by Cartwright.
In other respects there were many happy incidents.
If the mechanical department of the cotton manufacture received great advantages from the invention of
the steam-engine, its chemical department was equally favored by the discovery of bleaching by chlorine,
an application made by Berthollet in 1785, and
brought into practical use by Watt.  To bleach  a
piece of cotton by the action of the air and sun had
required from six to eight months, and a large surface of land must be used as bleach-fields. The value
of land in the vicinity of large towns offered an insuperable obstacle to such uses.  Much of the products
of the British looms was therefore sent over to Holland to be whitened. The use of dilute sulphuric
124 
EUROPEAN IMAPROVEMIENTS.
acid by Dr. Home, of Edinburgh, in the stead of sour
milk, hitherto employed in the operation, reduced the
time greatly, but still it required three or four months.
By chlorine the operation could be completed in the
course of a few hours, the fibre being perfectly whitened, its coloring material so thoroughly destroyed as to
be altogether incapable of restoration.  It was at first
used as a watery solution, subsequently as chloride
of lime.  Nor were the new chemical operations restricted to the bleaching of this fabric.  Calico printing, an art practiced many thousand years ago among
the Egyptians, as described by Pliny, was also per.
fected. The Arabs had introduced printing by blocks
of wood, an advance on the Indian operation of painting by hand.  The great European improvement was
printing by cylinders, introduced by Bell in 1785.
As the result of these various inventions, the cotton manufacture in much less than a century had
reached such an extension as might almost appear incredible.  Mr. Baines, writing in 1833, estimates the
total annual value of the manufacture at about one
hundred and fifty millions of dollars; the number of
persons supported by it at one and a half million;
the length of yarn spun at nearly five thousand millions of miles-sufficient to pass round the earth's
circumference more than two hundred thousand times
-sufficient to reach fifty-one times from the earth to
the sun. "It would encircle the earth's orbit eight
125 
EUROPEAN IMPROVEMENTS.
and a half times. The wrought fabrics of cotton exported in one year would form a girdle for the globe
passing eleven timhes round the equator. The receipts of the manufacturers and merchants for this
one production of national industry are equal to two
thirds the whole public revenue of the kingdom. To
complete the wonder, this manufacture is the creation
of the genius of a few humble mechanics. It has
sprung up from insignificance to its present magnitude within little more than half a century, and it is
still advancing with a rapidity of increase that defies
all calculation of what it shall be in future ages."
But such a vast improvement in this particular
manufacture necessarily implied other improvements,
especially in locomotion and the transmission of intelligence.  The peddler's pack, the pack-horse, and the
cart, became altogether inadequate, and in succession
were replaced by the canal system of the last century,
and by the steamboats and railroads of this. The engineering triumphs of Brindley, whose canals were
carried across valleys, over or through mountains,
above rivers, exacted unbounded admiration in his
own times, and yet they were only the precursors of
the railroad engineering of ours. As it wvas, the canal
system proved to be inadequate to the want, and
oaken railroads, which had long been used in quarries and coal-pits with the locomotive invented by
Murdock in 1784, were destined to supplant them.
126 
DEVELOPMENT OF MECHANICAL PIIILOSOPIIY.  127
It does not fall within my present purpose to relate
how the locomotion of the whole civilized world was
revolutionized, not by the act of some great statesman, or through the power of some mnighty sovereign
or soldier, but by George Stevenson, once a locomotive stoker, who, by the invention of the tubular boiler, and the ingenious device of blowing the chimney
instead of the fire, converted the locomotive of the
last century, which at its utmost speed could travel
seven miles an hour, into the locomotive of this, which
can accomplish seventy.  I need not dwell on the
collateral improvements-the introduction of iron for
the rails, metallic bridges, tubular bridges, viaducts,
and all the prodigies of the existing system of railway engineering.
It would demand a work of many volumes to furnish a full and satisfactory description of the industrial improvements of the last century;  those we
have been considering are, however, quite sufficient
to give us a clear appreciation of the direction in
which, during that period, the movement tended, and
the extent to which it advanced.  All that was thus
taking place w-as the necessary result of the material
philosophy of the preceding age; the carrying into
practice the mechanical ideas introduced by the
scho6ls of Galileo and Newton, and these were the
direct descendants of the Spanish Mohammedans;
for the discoveries of those philosophers had not 
128  DEVELOPMENT OF MECHANICAL PHILOSOPHY.
only been popularized and brought down to the common apprehension, but a growing taste for such pursuits had very generally arisen. We see this in the
many modifications of standard experiments in natural philosophy, as those connected with the airpump, and interesting or amusing applications of electricity.  The books of those timnes are full of interesting instances of the kind, some of which are still employed in our lecture-rooms, or are retained in our
elementary worlks. Such a taste for experimental arrangements and mechanical contrivances was of course
powerfully invigorated when there was added an expectation of gaining thereby immense wealth. It
was the same principle which had formerly offered
an incentive to the alchemists, now, however, directed to objects more easily comprehended, and occupying itself with principles readily understood.  If we
were to record all the ingenious contrivances originating among men of humble station and means during
the last century for the purpose of solving one mechanical problem-that of the perpetual motionthey would form quite a considerable volume. When
such tastes had become common, it was not at all
surprising that they should be directed to ordinary
objects or the operations of daily life, and that an ingenious cottager, who supported his family by spinning, should turn his talent to account by inventing
a machine with which one person could spin eight or 
POLITICAL RESULTS OF MACIIINERY.
ten threads at a time instead of one, as by the oldfashioned, time-honored spinning-wheel.
Moreover, when it appeared, from the case of Arkvright and others, that success in this particular direction was the high road to wealth, public consideration, and honor, the realization of riches greater
than the wildest tales of the alchemists had ever fabled, an impetus was given, arising from the strongest
passion wvhich can animate man.  It signified nothing if of the projectors and inventors ninety-nine out
of a hundred miserably failed; the splendid success
of the hundredth was encouragement enough, and
thus fiom year to year the number of inventions and
inventors kept on perpetually increasing, no human
pursuit, no object of human interest escaping, and so
it continues to our own time.
In this intellectual activity lay the essential progress            of the  last century.  Connected with it there
we r e    certain collateral incidents of no little significanc e. For the f      irst time in her history, overpopulation began to be heard of in England. Even at a
period mmlc        h l ater, the bearing of these things was altogether misunderstood by men of great intellectual
powavers and of eminent position. Comparing France
w i th England       in t he struggle in which he was engaged,   Napoleon said, "We must overpower her in
t    he end,      for wve  have a  vastly greater population."
He overlooked the fact, which at last settled the con                          I
129 
POLITICAL RESULTS OF MACHINERY.
test, that her steam-engines were representing at that
moment a population of thirty additional millions of
adult men; nay, more, men who consumed nothing
and produced every thing-men whose only want was
a little oil and coal, but who could do without food
and clothing, who were indeed ready to find clothing
for the whole world, who could labor night and day,
who required no sleep, and could not be fatigued.
It was not the armies at Waterloo, but these iron
men whom he so strangely overlooked in his calculation, that terminated the contest against him. It was
through these children of Watt that, after all her taxation, all her subsidies, all her extravagance, all her
losses, all her debt, all the inconceivable fatuity of
her politicians, England came out of that deadly conflict richer, greater, more vigorous and powerful, than
she had ever been before.
If mechanical invention has made so profound an
impression on the national life of Europe, it has done
the same in America. In the political consequences
that have ensued fromnt it, Whitney's gin, invented in
1793, does not yield in importance to the greatest of
English inventions.  The vast development of the
cotton culture in the Southern States, the increased
value of negro slave labor, have been its immediate
results.  The product of cotton furnished from those
states in 1856 was estimated at seven eighths that of
130 
NEGRO SLAVERY.
the whole world. It amounted in 1860 to more than
four millions and a half of bales (4,675,770).
The first African slaves brought to America were
imported in a Dutch vessel, which landed them at
Jamestown, in Virginia, in 1620.  The cultivation of
cotton is stated to have been commenced the following year, and firom this time the supply of negroes
continually increased.  It is estimated that in the
course of one hundred and fifty-six years, about three
hundred thousand slaves had been brought from Africa. An attempt was also made to reduce the native Indians to bondage, but it met with but little
success. They did not submit to their fate with the
resignation of the blacks.  Indeed, at a much later
period, it was a subject of remark on the plantations
that the slave families in which there was an infusion
of Indian blood were characterized by their treacherous and revengeful spirit. Notwithstanding the profits arising fiom their labor, there was a growing disposition to put some restraint on the importation of
slaves. Several of the colonies remonstrated against
the trade, but, in opposition to their wishes, the mnother country encouraged it. In 1774 the Continental
Congress resolved that the importation should be
stopped; but in 1789, at the formation of the Constitution, Congress was prohibited from interdicting it
until 1808, when it was abolished. Ten years previously (1798), Georgia had set the example of its pro
131 
NEGRO SLAVERY.
hibition. In 1820, Congress passed a law declaring
the slave-trade to be piracy.
From evidence which necessarily must be very imperfect, and therefore unreliable, it has been estimated
that forty millions of slaves have been taken from
Africa. The number imported into the American
colonies up to 1776 has been set down at three hundred thousand. The following table gives the slave
population from 1790 to 1860:
Year.    Slave Population.    Year.      Slave Population.
1790           697,879         1830         2,009,043
1800           893,041         1840         2,487,455
1810         1,191,364         1850         3,204,313
1820         1,538,038         1860         3,952,801
From this it appears that the increments are not
quite equal to what they should have been if measured by the standard of the white races on the admission of an unrestrained generative action. The
resistances which have kept the number down are
undoubtedly to be sought for in the unfavorable social circumstances of Southern slave life. It is to be
observed that the increase for the decade ending in
1840 is below the mean.
The degree of blood contamination undergone by
the negroes is shown by the number of the mulattoes
being one ninth that of the blacks. As might be expected, the number of free mulattoes is greater than
that of free blacks. The fact is a testimony to the
force of instinctive parental feelings.
132 
NEGRO SLAVERY.
In slave life the proportion of women to men is
above the European  mean.  The  subjoined table
shows the number of women to 100 men in the
places designated:
New England States.......           101.41
Southern...........                        97.04
3Iiddle............                        95.88
Southwestern..........            91.22
Northwestern..........            91.02
Slaves in Southern........ 95.90
Europe............                         94.34
The mean for the entire white American population
is about 95.31. The ratio of the female slaves is
therefore slightly above that of the white women.
The close approach of the numbers is a very interesting physiological fact.
A population of four millions of colored slaves presented, at the commencement of the civil war, a social element that could not be regarded but with the
most profound interest. Experience has, however,
shown howv great a change has been impressed upon
the African character by Climate, Blood-admixture,
and Ideas. The course these persons have taken
must be admitted by all impartial observers as in
the highest degree honorable to them.
To the foregoing instances, which serve as illustrations of the general principle we have under consid
133 
ANCIENT COLONIZATION OF EUROPE.
eration, may very profitably be added some of the
recent discoveries respecting the settlement of the
European continent by its present dominant racethe Indo-European-heretofore briefly referred to
(page 40). These will afford an opportunity not
only of showing the precision of such prehistoric researches in the hands of modern critics, but also of
indicating the general principles of the production
and dissemination of a population, of the stages of
its progress in  civilization, and of the modes by
which its manner of life may be affected.
Attempts have often been made to discover the
primitive history of nations through the nature and
structure of their languages; for since to each wellmarked group of men there appertains a specific form
of speech, historical relationships may be detected
through similarities of language, and this both by
the occurrence of similar roots in their vocabularies
and by analogies in their grammar.  A laiiguage, being the creation of a group of men, is developed with
their development, declines with their decay, and dies
out with their inevitable extinction, unless, as in a
few cases, such as the Latin, the Pali, the Prakrit, it
is retained by the learned for the literature it contains, or, through ecclesiastical policy, is made sacred. In some respects, therefore, the history of a
language corresponds to that of the nation by which
it is spoken; though the general mechanism of all
134 
ANCIENT COLONIZATION OF EUROPE.
languages must present certain features in common,
because those features depend on the mechanism of
the human mind, which is every where of the same
nature.
From a critical study of any existing form of
speech, the more important connections and incidents
of the people by whom it is spoken may be detected
-a criticism which must, however, be pursued in a
very guarded manner, and with a clear perception of
these accidental, or rather natural coincidences, both
as respects the names of things and grammatical
structure. It has often been suggested to Compara.
tive Philologists that birds in distant countries, which
could never have had any communication with one another, sing not only the same note, but also the same
strain; and that a like thing may be observed of
cats and dogs, their natural intonations being, how.
ever, liable to change through the circumstances of
their life.  Thus the wild dog never barks, and when
the domestic dog relapses into the wild state, it is affirmed that he loses therewith the habit of barking.
In man, similitudes of expression are liable to occur, even in distant places that have never been in
intercommunication, particularly in the case of suclh
sounds as have an instinctive origin, as those of weeping, laughter, the exclamations of pain, surprise, joy.
Attention being paid to this, there can be no doubt
that, by an examination of the language of a people,
135 
\ANCIENT COLONIZATION OF EUROPE.
many facts in its history may be detected, as its intermingling and conflicts with other people, though
in this respect the impression of languages upon each
other follows the law observed to hold good in the
impression of races upon each other, the predominant
race apparently exting,uishing the other, unless the
action should have been very profound.
From such evidence, it appears that, long before
the Historic times, the Indo-Europeans, leaving their
original country in Asia, migrated through Europe in
a northwesterly direction, pressing before them the
aborigines of that continent, wvho receded until they
were stopped by the sea, the Finnish and Basque dialects being among the vestiges of that ancient population. These dialects offer indubitable evidence
of the small advance in civilization those people had
made, and of their mediocre intellect. That the
Basque language was in intermediate times spoken
from the Alps to the west of Spain, appears to be
satisfactorily established from the names which places
and other geographical objects still bear. The imperfect communication kept up between different
parts of the invading column, as they began to settle and to multiply in the conquered countries, is
shown by the diversity of speech, and the introduction of new words occurring in regions at no very
great distance from each other.  Thus we may infer
the chief features of the old belief from the names of
136 
INDIGENOUS IDEAS.
certain Greek and Latin gods, and their connection
with those of India.  For instance, the God of the
Sky was called by the Greeks Zeus-pater, by the Latins Jupiter, and in the Veda Dyauspiter.  A  great
many of the classical legends are also to be found in
the sacred books of India.
It may also be remarked that this irruption of the
Indo-Europeans took place to the southeast as well as
to the northwest. Invading Hindostan, they forced
the aborigines thereof toward the sea-coast, and even
compelled them to escape to the islands beyond. Between these expelled people and the Australian population, as well as the aborigines of Europe, some
singular connections have been traced.
The religion of the Autochthlons of Europe was a
mere worship of Fetishes, and such deities as they
had were representatives of natural objects.  Probably there were no individuals set apart as priests and
no organized ceremonial. As ever will be the case
under such circumstances, the base native religion imparted some of its features to its conquering invader,
the traces of which may not only be recognized in the
theological systems of Greece and Rome, but have
even plainly descended to our own times, and that
not in mere rural superstitions, but extending to
those of a far more important kind.  Of such an effect we see a striking example in the case of Ancient
Egypt, in which the Fetish worship and adoration of
137 
INDIGENOUS IDEAS.
animals by the native Africans became inseparably
comnmingled with the theological conceptions of the
conquering intruders long before the epoch of Moses,
and the Pharaonic religion, at once noble and base,
philosophical and barbarous, was the result.
There is nothing strange in the perpetuation of
ideas and modes of thought through many thousand
years. Their origin is in the very organization of
men; for it is through organization that isolated nations manifest a proclivity to certain mental conceptions and even modes of expression.  The negro is
essentially a Fetish worshiper-a believer in witchcraft and in the efficacy of charms.  Such ideas and
the modes of expressing them are found wherever
that low grade of humanity occurs, occupying a zone
across all Africa and the vast expanse of the Pacific
Ocean; nay, even all round the world, if the black
populations of America are included; for these in the
United States, in the midst of Inoral, religious, Chlristian communities, are still full of their African ideas.
I believe that if it were possible for a new race of
autochthonic negroes to arise, it would inevitably fall
into these delusions; as certainly as, if there were new
autochthons of the yellow race, they would spontaneously and inevitably invent a monosyllabic language.
These are the results of organization. They make
their appearance wherever the element of that organization occurs; or, to use a common though perhaps
138 
INDIGENOUS SUPERSTITIONS.
incorrect expression, they descend with the blood.
The Finnish peasant still has faith in incantations
and charms; he believes that there are wvitches who
can ide on a stick to the moon, and cause her eclipse
by their nocturnal invocations; that there are men
who can still sell to the sailor a favorable wind, and
to the rustic a refreshing showver. It was this elemenet in the blood of Europe that made the barbarian
races, after the death of the Latin tongue, such a
ready receptacle for all kinds of imposture; that
gave faith in relics and force to fetishisms; that
turned the minister of the Gospel into a rain-maker
and wind-raiser, as if the unchangeable  and eternal
laws of nature might be suspended or modified at his
prayer.  It is this which, even in our times, perpetuates the by no means insignificant traces of these ancient delusions. WThat is thus planted in the very
bodily structure, it is hard, if not impossible, altogether to tear up by the roots. Here and there,
vwhenever a favorable moment occurs, it shoots forth
again.
Moreover, modern critics have remarked that, as
nations are thus distinguished by language, so likewvise they are by their culture of art, some imitating,
some inventing, but others being incapable of expressing their ideas either by the pencil or in stone.
The mental physiognomy of a people is thus so completely shadowed forth, that from the style of a work
139 
SPONTANEOUS ART.
we instantly detect its origin.  The rigid, motionless
Egyptian forms betray to us their authors, and this
irrespective of what might be termed national blunders, such as the front view of the eye in profiles, and
the false position of the ear. And as none of the
surrounding nations ever adopted the language of
Egypt, so none ever adopted her hieroglyphic systemi of writing or the peculiarities of her art.  Such
as they were they remained in their birthplace, and
for thousands of years were perfectly stationary, making, not the slightest exhibition of an advance. The
adjacent Shemitic race possessed no tendency to pictorial expression, their theological systems forbidding
the making of graven forms, though this injunction
perhaps arose from their insensibility to the enibodiment of the beautiful; for it may be doubted whether it is possible, when a tendency to pictorial expression exists, to restrain it by legal penalties.
But how different it was with the Indo-,Europeans,
a race which, without hesitation, plunged into the
depths of metaphysical speculation, and created systelms of Philosophy false and true. While, among
the Egyptians, many centuries of that leisure which
arises from a profound political repose were never illustrated by the improvement of Art, the apathy of
Africa perfectly neutralizing all vestiges of the genius of that ancient conquering race, who first brought
civilization to the banks of the Nile-while, also,
140 
ART IN EUROPE.
among the Shemites, wealth, luxury, a life of ease,
never led to a spontaneous invention of even the first
principles of art, very different was it with the IndoEuropeans, whlose mental proclivities are every where
manifested in architecture and sculpture. It w-as,
however, the Hellenic branch of that race who  carried Art to the highest pitch to which it has ever
yet attained. Commencing with imperfect beginnings, we see how, among the Greeks, it soon gained
a great expansive force, rising degree by degree to
the embodiment of those exquisite conceptions of
which the sculptures of the Parthenon are the witnesses, and gaining so intense a vitality as to survive Roman  conquest and oppression.  It was its
noble peculiarity that, basing itself on a strict anthropomorphisn, it carried out with a rigorous consistency that principle. The remark is perfectly true,
that while the Oriental artist expressed his ideas of
strength or swiftness by giving to his statue a multitude of arms or of limbs, and thereby made a monster, the Greek, true to his principle and true to man,
developed with exquisite tact those human features
wvith which such qualities are connected. His statue
was the ideal conception of whatever there is in man
essential to strength, or majesty, or beauty, carried
into material execution, and prefiguring to us the
forms which we should expect that even God himself would have produced had he been pleased to ren
141 
ART IN EUROPE.
der those qualities incarnate. The Greek made no
monsters, but human forms of transcendent perfec tion. It has been affirmed that this intense idealism
rendered him incapable of the execution of portraits,
which are best made by men of a realistic turn. His
influence in imparting to others his own capability in
this respect depended on their natural approach to
his own mental peculiarity. Greek art accompanied
Greek blood; and as the latter was eliminated from
races with whom it had been mingled, and who had
thereby gained the power of Greek expression, so do
their works exhibit declining stages, and eventually
become barbarous and rude.
Such considerations indicate that from a study of
the works of art of nations, as from a study of the
nature and structure of their languages, incidents in
their history may with certainty be determined; conclusions which, when they otherwise accord with the
subsequent career of such people, and in the deternmination of which, if sufficient care and skill have been
employed, may be received as indubitable, although
they may relate to prehistoric times.
Migrating thus from Central Asia, the column of
invaders destined to give birth to the permanent population of Europe encountered, in the new seats to
which they gradually advanced, many diversities of
climate.  In accordance with the principles set forth
on foregoing pages, they thereby underwent physio.
142 
CONSEQUENCES OF THiE DOCTRINE OF UNITY.   143
logical changes in complexion and bodily construc tion. Various national types were thus produced.
He wvho accepts the doctrine of the unity of the
human race-that is, its origination friom one primor dial pair-must, in view of the numerous modified
forms of men now dispersed all over the surface of
the earth, assign an almost paramount control to climate and to modes of life; but the conclusion to
which  hle is compelled, if broadly stated, would
doubtless be very reluctantly received. Its apparent extravagance may, however, serve to give emphasis to the physiological principle involved; for on
those principles it would follow that if the life of a
man could be prolonged through many centuries, and
he were to occupy it in making a journey over the
earth from the Arctic to the Antarctic Circle, though
he might have been perfectly white at first, his complexion would in succession pass through every degree of darkness, and by the time he had reached the
equator, toward the middle of his life, he would be
perfectly black. Continuing his journey, his color
would lighten as he proceeded, and on his reaching
the Antarctic he would become pale again, all these
changes occurring without any loss of his personal
identity. Moreover, in this his progress, supposing
that his mode of life, as. regards food and comfort,
was such as natural conditions suggest, even his
skull would vary, and with it his intellectual powers. 
144   CONSEQUENCES OF TIIE DOCTRINE OF UNITY.
His forehead, reclining at the outset, would undergo
rectification as he slowly advanced to more genial
climes; the facial angle enlarging and reaching a
maximum at the time of his residence in the temperate zone, but diminishing again, and his countenance becominig baser, as hlie approached the equator, the receding aspect being then for the second
time assumed.   Still passing  onward toward the
south, the facial angle would again enlarge, the skull
re-rectifying, the intellectual powers expanding, and
this condition attaining its perfection in the midst
of the south temperate zone, a relapse ensuing as the
Antarctic Circle was gained, and there, for the third
time, the reclining skull being assumed. Nor is this
all; for if, in this his career, children were born to
him, they would be of every shade of color and of
every form of skull, for such existing physical peculiarities are capable of hereditary transmission. I
have said that this illustration may be supposed extravagant; philosophically, however, on the doctrine
referred to, it is not so; for what else than such an
imaginary prolonged individual life is the life of a
race? and what more has thus occurred to the imaginary traveler than has actually happened to the human family?
If such are the effects that would ensue to an emigrant slowly passing along a meridional track, the
case would be quite different if the movement were 
ORIGIN OF EUROPEAN RACES.
along a parallel of latitude. In this direction the variations of climate are far less marked, and depend
much  more on geographical than on astronomical
causes. In emigrations of this kind there is never
that rapid change of aspect, complexion, and intellectual power which must occur' in the other. Thus,
though the mean temperature of Europe increases
fioro Poland to France, chiefly through the influence
of the great Atlantic current transferring heat from
the Gulf of Mexico and tropical ocean, that rise is
far less than what would be encountered on passing
through the same distance to the South. By the
arts of civilization man can much more easily avoid
the difficulties arising from variations along a parallel of latitude than those upon a meridian, for the
simple reason that in that case those variations are
less.
The Indo-European emigrating body, thus forcibly
intruding itself into every region of Europe, not only
came under the influence of the laws of Climate, but
also of those laws that determine the increase and
diminution of Population; for though, doubtless, the
birth and death of every human being is, in a religious sense, the appointment of Heaven, politically the
subject has to be regarded from a less dignified point
of viewv.  Population is determined by Law.
The population of old countries exhibits secular
variations, sometimes increasing and sometimes di
K
145 
THEORY OF POPULATION.
minishing. These variations often stand in such a
connection with political events as to be plainly
their consequences. The population of the whole
Roman Empire was prodigiously affectetd by the introduction of Christianity; that of Italy was reduced
by the wars of Justinian.  The north of Africa was
almnost depopulated by the effects of theological quarrels, but it was restored again by the influence of
Mohammedanism. The introduction of the feudal
system put a prenmium on the production of men, and
accordingly vast numbers appeared. The Crusades
gave rise to a diminution.  From the eleventh to the
sixteenth century, during five hundred years, the population of England did not double; but in fifty years
after 1790, it doubled in spite of great wars; and
that this was owing to a local cause is clear, from the
simultaneously stationary condition of many other
countries.
Owing to the diminution of causes which will
presently be explained as resisting agencies, the annual increase of the United States in population has
been nearly three times as much as that of Prussia,
including her gains from the partition of Poland;
four times as much as that of Russia; six times that
of Great Britain; nine times that of Austria; ten
times that of France.
Again, the geographical centre of Population is
liable to displacement. Thus, the centre for Europe
146 
CENTRE OF POPULATION.
has passed to the north of its ancient position since
the fall of Paganism.   The  establishment of the
Feudal system occasioned one dislocation of it, the
development of manufacturing industry in the northwest of Europe another.
In the United States the direction of increase by
population is nearly due west. "The centre of representative population of the Union in 1840 was in
the northwestern extremity of Virginia.  It had traveled westward since 1790, when it was in Baltimore
County, Maryland, 182 miles distant, in very nearly
the same parallel of latitude."
MAontesquieu expresses an opinion which doubtless
would be strenuously objected to in our day if advanced othlerwise than facetiously: "A man is worth
whlat he will sell for; in some countries he is worth
nothing, in others less than nothing." From this it
would seem to follow, that if production depends
upon demand, population will be affected by those
well-known laws holding good in the case of other
commodities.
Leaving the consideration of that aspect of the
case to the ingenuity of the reader, it may be asserted as being beyond contradiction that not only is
population determined by physical agencies, but also
by human legislation or the policy of governments;
for governments, by such obvious means as voluntarily engaging in wars, can occasion an absolute dim
147 
DECREASE OF POPULATION IN ROME.
inution throu,lgh the destruction of life that ensues,
and they may also, by their course of policy, dimin  ish the number of births. They ought to be just as
much held accountable for restraining the appear ance of individuals as for destroying them after they
have appeared.
We can have no better example of the control ex ercised by public policy over population than the
condition of things in Rome after the Civil Wars.
The  existence of the State was in danger.  It has
been mentioned (page 109) how an indisposition to
contract matrimony had arisen.  Lawvs were enacted
to correct the evil, but with so little success that it
became necessary to resort to other means for in creasing the population. Tacitus, speaking of the
reign of Claudius, says: "The line of those families
which were styled by Romulus the first class of nobility, and by Brutus the second, was almost extinct.
Even those of more recent date, created in the time
of Julius Cesar by the Cassian Law, and under Augustus by the Senian, were well-inigh exhausted."
Under these circumstances, the Emperor, in a speech
of remarkable ability, advocated the introduction of
prominent nobles even into the Senate. "My ancestors, the oldest of whom, Attus Clausus, though of
Sabine origin, was at once enrolled among Roman
citizens and adopted into the patrician rank, furnish
me with a lesson that I ought to pursue similar meas
148 
SPEECH OF THE EMPEROR CLAUDIUS.
ures in directing the affairs of the commonwealth,
and transfer to Rome every thing that is of pre-eminent merit wheresoever found.  Nor, indeed, am I ignorant that fiom Alba we had the Julli, from Camerium the Coruncanii, and the Portii from Tusculum;
and, not to enter into a minute detail of remote transactions, that from Etruria, Lucania, and all Italy persons have been incorporated into the Senate.  At last
our city became bounded only by the Alps, so that
not only separate individuals, but whole states and
nations, were ingrafted into the Roman name.  We
had solid peace at home, and our arms prospered
abroad, when the nations beyond the Po were presentedl with the rights of citizens; and when, under
pretext of leading out our legions into colonies all
over the earth, and uniting with them the flower of
the natives, we recruited our exhausted state.  Do
we regret that the Balbi migrated to us from Spain,
or men equally illustrious from the Narbon Gaul?
Their descendants remain yet with us, nor yield to
us in their love of this our common country. What
proved the bane of the Spartans and Athenians,
though potent in arms, was that they treated as
aliens and refused to unite with the conquered.  On
the other hand, so great was the wisdom of Romulus
our founder, that he saw several people his enemies
and his citizens in one and the same day. Foreigners have even reigned over us.  For magistracies to
149 
SPEECH OF THE EMPEROR CLAUDIUS.
be intrusted to the children of freemen is no innova tion, as many are erroneously persuaded, but a con stant practice of the elder people. But, it is urged,
we have had wars with the Senones. Have the Vol scians, have the Aquians never engaged us in battle?
It is true, our capital has been taken by the Gauls;
but by the Tuscans we have been forced to give host ages, and by the Samnites to pass under the yoke.
However, upon a review of all our wars, none will
be found to have been more speedily concluded than
that with the Gauls, and from that time uninterrupted peace has existed. Identified with us in customs,
in civil and military accomplishments, and domestic
alliances, let them rather introduce among us their
gold and wealth, than enjoy them without our participation. All the institutions, Conscript Fathers,
which are now venerated as most ancient, were once
new; the plebeian magistrates were later than the
patricians, the Latin later than the plebeian; those of
other nations in Italy came after the Latin; the present admission of the Gauls will also wax old, and
what is this day supported by precedents will hereafter become a precedent."  This speech was followed by a decree declaring the Eduans capable of a
seat in the Senate.
The fall of the Roman Empire has been attributed
to various causes, but, from a consideration of such
facts as that here presented, I think there can be no
150 
VARIATIONS IN THE POPULATION OF ENGLAND. 151
doubt of the correctness of the conclusion mentioned
(page 108), that it was due to extinction of the Roiman ethnical element.  The special Roman population so rapidly depreciated that the difficulty became
incurable even by the most energetic legislation.
National policy, then, exercises a prodigious influence on population, though the particular form of
government may have but little effect.  It would not
have been of the smallest consequence to England, in
1790, what her form of government might have been
republican, oligarchical, or monarchical; her mechanicians, Watt, Arkwright, Hargreaves, Crompton,
Cartwright, by their inventions of the steam-engine,
the spinning-frame, the jenny, the mule, the powerloom, the carding-mlachine, had put her in a position
to monopolize the markets of the world. Industrial
interests very quickly became paramount in the state.
In fifty years she had not only doubled her population, but, as we have said, her machine power had
become equal to thirty millions of men. In that period she almost quadrupled her wealth, notwithstanding losses through the most surprising political folly.
The talent of her inventors more than counterbalanced the ignorance of her statesmen. Her commercial men, in conquering India, found a compensation
for the loss of America. Her salvation was due to
her merchants and machinists, not to her politicians
and military men. These, had they not been coun 
TIIEORY OF POPULATION.
teracted, would inevitably have brought her to ruin;
those, in spite of every disadvantage, gave her an intrinsic strength equal to that of the Roman empire
at its maximum, when its population was one hundred and twenty millions.
Howv was it that industrial activity thus developed
population?  It provided for human support, and increased the demand for labor. Moreover, during that
period there was a reduction of mortality by nearly
one third.
The general principles involved in determining
population have long been understood and are very
simple.  The natural instinct whichl leads to increase,
and which is the most powerful of human passions,
is of uniform intensity. Arising in the peculiarities
of our organization, it can never be interfered with
except by interfering with the organization, and
hence, in its intrinsic force, is the same from age to
age in the same nation. In different nations, compared together, it doubtless exists in different degrees, being dependent in this respect, as might be
easily proved, on climate. In Western Europe we
may estimate its value from this, that if there be a
perfect freedom for its unrestrained action, and its results be submitted to no unusual causes of mortality,
it will double a population in twenty-five years.
Such being the absolute value of the generative
force of society, the observed result ill any case de
152 
THEORY OF POPULATION.
pends on the resistances. A human being must be
fed, clothed, and sheltered, conditions  the procure nient of which implies labor.  Insufficient food, inad equate clothing, imperfect shelter, are the resisting
forces in the problem of Population. Even with a
fiee play for the generative force, the resistances control the effect, since they act in a double way-operating before birth so as in many instances to end life
before that epoch, and after birth, insuring death by
the starvation and misery they occasion. Practically
speaking, then, it is quite true, as writers on Political
Economy assert, that the increase of Population keeps
pace with the increase of food. A critical examination will, however, satisfy us that this is only a statement of one particular case of the general problem,
and that, philosophically, all the resistances ought to
be included.
Since the time of the Jesuit Botero, it has been admitted that no legal encouragement to matrimony
can be effective unless there is a corresponding increase of the means of subsistence. Modern statistics
have established that in Europe there is a close connection between the number of marriages and the
price of corn.
We must not overlook the interesting remark that
the manner of operation of these Resistances is twofold-physical and intellectual.  Cold, the want of
food and of clothing, will act instantaneously in ef
153 
THEORY OF POPULATION.
fecting a reduction. The history of every famine is
an illustration of such abruptness; and the meagre
population of countries in which the production of
food is uniformly difficult, a testimony to the slower
influence.  But, besides this, man, being  endowed
with reason and continually looking to the future,
puts a restraint upon himself. He will determine
to refiain from marriage until he sees a clear prospect for the support of a family. He is unwilling to
burden himself with a weight which lie is not able
yet to carry, and to inflict on those who must for
many years be wholly helpless and dependent the inevitable consequences of distress and misery.  In civilized, and especially in religious communities, this intellectual Resistance assumes very great power.
In any country the uniform generative social force
goes on increasing the population until it is checked
by the Resistances-the difficulty of feeding, clothing,
sheltering-in short, by Poverty.  It is a true maxim,
that the principle of increase is alwvays far more than
sufficient to keep the population equal to its means
of subsistence, and, indeed, in most countries, somewhat overpasses that point, and establishes  a constant pressure on the limits of supply, and a certain
amount of destitution is the inevitable consequence,
there nowv being births that must be starved.
The statesman who is called upon to deal with the
Problem of Population has, therefore, obviously the
154 
THIIEORY OF POPULATION.
choice between two courses of action.  He may touch
the generative force, or he may touch the resistances;
for though, as has been said, in an absolute sense the
powver is uniform, yet there exist means by a resort
to which its consequences may be indirectly interfered with or rendered nugatory.  It seems to me,
however, that practice in this direction must always
imply immorality, and that an enlightened manl will
rely exclusively on the other mode.
Would any one undertake to regulate the amount
of air which shall be inspired in a given period of
time, or the amount of food that shall be consumed?
Would any one legislate as to the quantity of water
that shall be lost by perspiration?  We recognize in
these various things the connection between organization and its result.
So in that other case, to which with needfiul obscurity I refer, he deceives himself who supposes that
he can interrupt action while organization subsists:
at the most, the effect is illusory, and is finding its
manifestation in some other way. Public Celibacy is
private wickedness. It is this dreadful truth, as applicable to communities, which has induced several
European governments to enter on those methods
against which every religious man must revolt-the
organization of prostitution.
The other mode of influencing population we may
consider without embarrassment.  More food, cheap
155 
TIIEORY OF POPULATION.
er clothing, better houses, are insured by increased
remunerative labor, and this is instantly followed by
increase of numbers. These also are things which
fall within the scope of enlightened legislation. To
these must be added those noble discoveries we owe
to physicians, such as vaccination, improved methods
for the cure of diseases, and measures for the abatement of pestilence. These, by securing to the productive laborer more vigorous health and by diminishing the death-rate, add directly and indirectly to
the population. A similar result must occur from
inventions which yield cheap clothing suited to the
different seasons of the year, or add to the comforts
and conveniences of houses.
From this superficial consideration of the Problem
of Population we gather a most instructive lessonthe same that we have already learned from our inquiries respecting the origin, maintenance, distribution, and extinction of animals and plants. This lesson is, that the world is governed by Law.  The generation of human life, the production of men, may be
controlled by political agency and political conditions.
Increases or diminutions of responsible immortal souls
may be determined by statesmanship.
Under the influence of such natural laws Europe
received its population from its Asiatic intruders.
Climate and other exterior conditions separated it
into nations, of which each thenceforth pursued its
156 
THE PROGRESS OF IIUMAN RACES.
special way of life, imitating, as far as circumstances
would permit, the successive stages of development
of an individual.
There is a progress for races of men as well marked
as is the career of one man. There are thoughts and
actions appertaining to specific periods' of life in the
one case as in the other. The march of individual
existence shadows forth the march of race existence,
being, indeed, its representation on a little scale.
Among humble animals intercommunication converts
groups into an individual. The hive is moved by a
common sentiment, the birds of passage are marshaled in a suitable array. Among men, speech and writing mould successive generations and different nations
into one person. A society solicited by determinate
physical influences would pass forward through a
path as definite as that exhibited by a single man.
A second society, completely separated from the preceding by space or by time, would, under like influences, do exactly the same thing. It is not a mere
tendency, it is an actual performance. The infant of
our time develops in the same way, and performs actions suitable to his stage, as did the infant a thousand years ago.  He who is born in Asia advances
through the same stages, exhibiting therein corresponding actions as he who is born in America.  The
variations we perceive, as our examination of these
actions becomes more minute, arise from the disturb
157 
158 NECESSITY OF MATERIAL TO MENTAL CHANGE.
ance of temporary and local causes, and the voluntary
reaction of individuals on one another. No matter
what diversity or dissimilarity we find at first, as we
contemplate them with fixed attention and sufficiently long, their sameness becomes more and more manifest.
As in the Individual, so in the Nation, the time for
psychical change corresponds with that for physical.
In the individual, structural development is the harbinger of the display of new functions. Examined
from the first moment of life throughout the ascending course, a variation in function is ever preceded by
alteration in construction-so completely, indeed, that
either being perceived, the other may be predicted.
From this we gather the all-important conclusion that
in national life it is altogether impossible to have advancement unless there be a corresponding material
change. We vainly attempt the improvement of a
race, intellectually or morally, by missionary exertion
or by education, unless we simultaneously touch its
actual physical condition. Any impression made
upon that gives the possibility of accomplishing the
other.  The conclusion to which we thus arrive from
purely physiological considerations is strengthened by
actual experience. Does the splendid generosity of
Christendom in behalf of the heathen world receive
that fruit which is fairly its due? Are not the expected successes from year to year postponed? 
NECESSITY OF MATERIAL TO MENTAL CHANGE. 1-9
15
The mental change which has occurred in Europe
during the last two centuries was rendered possible
by concurring material changes.  Of what avail is
education, except it be in presence of anll ameliorated
social condition?  The diminution of the blue-eyed
races on that continent shows how profound has been
the physiological change; and better shelter, better
clothinlg, better food, wvere the necessary precursors
of better mental conceptions.  Great amendments in
the daily life of communities, great improvements in
their mnanner of thinking, can only be attained by corresponding physical modifications.
It is with reluctance I acknowledge how small is
the influence exerted by mere persuasion or even example.  To elevate or to depress a group of men, it
is necessary to touch their physical condition. If it
were not so, how different would the career of the
Indians upon this continent have been! With the
illustrious example of the white race before their
eyes, ought they not to have joined in the progress,
co-partners with us in a glorious advance? How do
those well-mleaning men, who hope to accomplish the
conversion and civilization of Nations by the preaching, of a single missionary, account for the facts we
have here? The white American and the red Indian,
in presence of one another, offer the missionary problem in its grandest proportions. We turn away from
the undeniable result with disappointment and pain. 
160   CONSEQUENCES OF PERMANENT HABITATION.
A people who have occupied the same soil beyond
the memory of man, and who have never been dis  turbed by admixture with others, may present a so  cial condition of repose and stability-a tendency to
persist in their habits, whatever those habits maay be;
if they are hunters and warriors, hunters and warriors
they may continue.  Conservatism is stamped upon
them.  They show no disposition to advance, and
hence, no matter how active their intrinsic life, so cially they are in repose. It is this state of stagna tion which constitutes in European countries the real
difficulty of elevating by education the lower orders.
They cling to their maxims of life, no matter how
evil-to their religious ideas, no matter how absurd,
wvith a perversity that is almost beyond belief. At
the best, they may be taught to imitate, but never
to comprehend.  They are at once impenetrable to
knowledge and intolerant of change.  The peasant,
who cultivates his ancestral roods with the- antique
implement used in the Roman times, looks with a
mixed sentiment of derision and abomination on an
improved plow. His intellectual stagnation can not
be overcome by any legislation, nor even by the force
of example. Experience the most melancholy teaches us that the hand of violence can alone arouse him,
the hand of violence alone improve him. It is this
consideration which suggests to the philosophical
mind a sad apology for the iniquities and calamities
of conquest and war. 
CONSEQUENCES OF LOCOMOTION.
A  people who are new to the climate in which
they live-who have not attained a physiological cor  respondence with its conditions-who are incessant ly, universally, and profoundly disturbed by foreign
blood - admixture, will exhibit a scene of intense so cial activity.  Among them will not be found that
dead - weight of old communities, an obtuse lower
class, almost impenetrable to knowledge and hating
improvemnent; but, in all the social members, thought
takes the direction of individual and general improve ment.  From the bosom of the mass emerge with
more facility and more numerously those who are
gifted with superior endowments, who in an old
community disentangle themselves from obscurity
with much difficulty, or perhaps not at all. Here
there is nothing of stagnation; all is commotion and
advance.
I do not propose here to consider in detail the complications that must have occurred in the advancing
progress of European nations, through their interaction upon each other.
It is often affirmeed that blood - admixture implies
thought-variation. By this is meant that the intermingling of one race with another gives rise to a
product not only participating in the bodily lineaments of its progenitors, but in the mental lineaments
too.  Incorporation with a base race will lower the
standard of a superior one.
L
161
I - 
162    ILLUSTRATION FROM EGYPTIAN HISTORY.
The historical instances that might be quoted ill
proof of this are very numerous. Selecting one as
an illustration, since I have had occasion to refer to
Egypt before, I may return to that case again. Its
language proves to us that in pre-historic times that
country wvas wrested from its original African owners
by successful Asiatic invaders. The occurrence of
words referable to Indo-Germanic roots establishes
that fact. The consequences of this event are seen in
the social organization. The existence of caste dis  tinctions is an inevitable memento of violent con  quest. The superior caste is the descendant of the
conquering race. In Egypt there wvere castes.
But more than this, Religious ideas are indications
of the social state. What is the interpretation that
we must put on mummied bulls, and cats, and snakes?
The adoration paid to them, was it the adoration of
intelligent minds?  The priesthood of Egypt retained
in purity the monotheistic conceptions their ancestors
brought from Asia, keeping them for the initiated;
but the social condition of the nation required a base
adulteration with the African worship of beasts.
The ruling class, whose conceptions are made man  ifest to us by the stupendous ruins and eternal archi  tecture they have left, are then not to be blamed for
the policy of exclusion they adopted. Their daily ex  perience brought them in contact with too many to  kens of the deterioration their race had suffered in the
*~. 
CONSEQUENCES OF BLOOD-ADMIIXTURE.
old times by blood-admixture. Instinctively they shut
out the foreigner. They kept the Hebrew under his
taskmaster apart; they would neither eat with him
nor mix with him. They made it death for the European to set his foot in their country-that country of
which, as they mournfully knew, the true emblem was
a sphinx, with a human head and an animal body.
It is not consistent with the prosperity of a Nation
to permit heterogeneous mixtures of races that are
physiologically far apart. Their inferior product becomes a dead weight on the body politic. If Italy
was for a thousand years after the extinction of the
true Roman race a scene of anarchy, its hybrid inhabitants being unable to raise it from its degradation,
how indescribably deplorable must the condition be
where there has been  a mortal adulteration with
African blood.
At the close of the present century there will probably be ninety millions of white inhabitants in the
United States, and only about nine millions of colored. The periodical oscillations the black population has exhibited - their increasing more rapidly
during one decade, as from 1820 to 1830, and decliniing during another, as from 1830 to 1840 —will
probably be obliterated, if due, as is thought, to the
excessive importation of African slaves from 1800 to
1808.  In the slower increase of the colored population, as compared with the white, supposing no direct
163 
CONSEQUENCES OF BLOOD-ADMIXTURE.
political action to be resorted to, lies the solution of
the Negro problem in America.
The progress of blood-admixture is also very obvious. In 1850 one ninth of the colored class were
returned as mulattoes, but in 1860 the proportion
had risen to one eighth.  Of every 100 colored births,
17 were mulattoes and 83 blacks. There is every
reason to believe that the mingling of the two races
is unfavorable to the vitality of their hybrid product.
Let us now, in conclusion, proceed to apply the
philosophical facts we have been considering by the
light of historical evidence to the special case of our
own country.
The principles chiefly to be borne in mind are these
-that the political effect of emigration depends upon
the grade of society from which the emigrating mass
has issued, being very different in the case of the laboring and of the intellectual classes respectivelythat homogeneousness in a community imparts stability, though it eventually implies stagnation-that
a community suffering incessant blood-disturbance
will exhibit social activity, though, if the disturbing
element is very base, a corresponding depreciation of
its absolute value will ensue.
In the Southern States there are two races physiologically distinct-the white, which may be regarded
as not liable to blood- contamination, and therefore
164 
BLOOD-DISTURBANCE IN THE UNITED STATES.   165
becoming yearly more and more homogeneous; the
black, liable, as we have seen, to increasing contamination of so extraneous and different a kind that the
result becomes purposeless.
In the Northern  States the blood-disturbance is
through emigration.  Its effect would be more marked if the stream did not flow mainly from Ireland
and Germany, countries bounded by the same annual
isothermals that limit New York on the north and
Washington on the south. The movement which
this class of population has to accomplish, to come
into correspondence with the new conditions, is not
great; but a careful observer will not fail to detect
the retardation it impresses on the movement of its
predecessors, and their corresponding detention in
the lower intellectual states. The manner of thought
of the whole community is less definite, its ideas less
settled, its intentions less precise.
The Atlantic States have been the seat from which
has issued the emigration destined to people the
West. So far as their agricultural population is concerned, several of them may be regarded as having
passed into a stationary condition.  Of this, Vermont
may be taken as an example, its census report for
1860 being substantially the same as that for 1850.
If the limit of land-support has thus been reached,
any farther advance must be looked for from commercial and manufacturing avocations. The North 
166 INTERNAL MIGRATIONS IN TIlE UNITED STATES.
western States offer a striking contrast. In the same
decade Illinois doubled its population. Owing to
their remarkable salubrity and unrivaled fertility,
those regions are fast becoming the granary of Europe.
From the older states, in this manner, a very large
portion of their population has been removed, in the
general aggregate about one fourth having emigrated.
In 1850 the large number of 4,176,000 whites were
living in states wvhere they were not born.  In thirty
states the native emigrants have chiefly preferred to
locate in a state adjacent to that of their birth; the
overflow has been greatest nearest its sources, yet
progressive and diffusive in all directions. In general, and in obedience to the principle I have indicated, these emigrants move on parallels of latitude.
Now it is to be observed that the countries thus
settled bear a resemblance, social and political, to
those fiom which their population was first derived;
a fact pointing to the conclusion that the abstraction
made from the Atlantic States has been in a proportional manner from each of their three social grades.
The effect of this has been to keep those states intellectually in a stationary condition, or to retard the
development they would otherwise have made. Society, retaining in them more or less completely its
interior primitive balance, has lost the advantage
that would have been derived had the field of action 
CONSEQUENCES OF INTERNAL MIGRATION.
been limited, the population more dense, the mental
competition more violent. This is the explanation
of the remark so often made, that our material prosperity and our mental progress have not advanced
with an equal step. 
The emigrating mass has also been placed under
extraordinary conditions. Peopling an uninhabited
region, it has suffered no deterioration firom blood-admixture with lower tribes. The change that is being impressed upon it is altogether the effect of climate. Physically it hastens to come into correspondenlce with the new circumstances, and is ever moving
in an ascending course. The length of time to be occupied ill the metamorphosis before complete accordance is gained must be very considerable, and subject to a perpetual retardation, if continued emigration is all the time going on.
On the other hand, the length of time and the
course to be gone through are shortened by that artificial equalization of Climate accomplished in civilized life. The building and warming of houses, the
adjustment of clothing, the selection of food, compensate very largely for differences of climate, and bring
us all to a more homogeneous state.
Of course, it would be in vain to deny that while
all this is taking place, and as matters now stand, the
intellectual position is very far below that which will
inevitably be ultimately reached. Our journalism,
167 
168    CONSEQUENCES OF INTERNAL MAIIGRATION.
our criticism, our educational establishments, bear
evidence to the depression under which they necessarily labor.  In fact, our situation is such that we
actually can not profitably take advantage of the
knowledge that we do possess.
An illustration will point out what I mean.  A
Virginia planter grows tobacco on his land until he
has exhausted it. Of what avail to himn is agricultural chemistry, with all its great discoveries?  It might
cost him five hundred dollars an acre to repair the
mischief he has done to his estate; but he can buy
virgin lands in the West at a dollar and a qluarter an
acre. Agricultural colleges are of no use to him.
And so, for miles together in the Southeru States,
there are desolated and forsaken tracts-old fields, as
they are called. But, if land is worth little, labor is
worth much.  Whoever can invent a labor-saving
machine will make money. So our improvements
are not in the direction of agricultural chemistry,
but of agricultural mechanism.
In like manner with our educational establishments. MIany intelligent persons speak depreciatingly of them, not considering duly the invisible pressure there is upon them.  Their humble position for
the time being is unavoidable. It is not to be
amended by the system of multiplying them. That
only makes them more importunate rivals in beggary. For years to come our public schools must 
MIGRATION TO THE SOUTH.
be the seats of superficial learning; and we must accept it as an unavoidable fact, with the sad consequence taught us by European statistics, that that
kind of instruction does not lead to the diminution,
but rather to the increase of immorality.  We  must
pass through the temporary evil to reach the final
good.
Such I consider to be the present effect of the emigration that has been going on firom the Atlantic
States to the West-we endure a temporary retardation. But, should the course of that emigration be
shortly diverted to the South, an event by no means
beyond the bounds of possibility, the conditions of
the problem  are essentially altered, and far- seeing
statesmen will discern that the experience we have
hitherto had will be altogether inapplicable. The
bl)ood-admixture that must inevitably ensue with the
whlite population of the South   a population that
has nearly become homogeneous, nearly in agreement
with the climate it is inhabiting, which has hitherto
been disturbed by emigration to only an insignificant
extent, and which, in its origin, was sensibly different
from  ours- that blood-admixture will make itself
pow-erfiilly felt in the consequences that must ensue.
In these remarks as to the probability of an emigration to the South, it wvill doubtless be perceived
that there is implied the transient nature of the existing alienation, an extinction of the bitterness of
169 
COMPARATIVE EFFECTS 0OF WARS.
feeling pervading that portion of the country. There
is a great difference between Civil and Foreign Wars
as respects the permanence of the sentiments they engender. History is full of examples how speedily
the feuds of a Civil War die away. Man is so constituted that hlie spontaneously resigns to oblivion his
unsuccessful undertakings; and, since they form by
far the larger proportion of the things he does, he is
reconciled by habit to that forgetfulness. The vanquished in a civil strife avoids a recollection of his
disappointed hopes. The victor abstains from a con.
templation of his success: he feels that hle can afford
to forget even glory; and so the memory of such
events speedily passes away.   New objects, new motives, newv pursuits are presented, and society starts
again on a newv basis.  How brief a space it took, in
the old times, to obliterate all memory of the awful
civil wars of the Roman Empire-in later times, of
those of Englalnd!  It will take a still shorter period
to do,tlhe same in the activity of human life in
America.
The Pacific front of America, compared with its
Atlantic front, presents differences so striking, that
the future physiological effect can not fail to be important.  "A cold sea-current so reduces the temperature of summer, that July is only eight or nine Fahrenhleit degrees warmer than January, and September
is the hottest month.  For this reason, Indian corn
170 
THE PACIFIC STATES.
fails to come to maturity, though wheat and other
cereals, as well as orchard fruits, attain their utmost
perfection. The elastic atmosphere and bracing ef
feet of the climate have been remarked by settlers
firom all parts of the world."
From the remarks made on page 91, it will be inferred that the Pacific shore of the United States is
destined hereafter to be the scene of an active Asiatic
emigration.  So vast is the mineral and agricultural
wealth of those regions, so importunate the demand
for labor, so remunerative its result, that the settled
and torpid populations of China, Japan, India, can not
fail to be affected.  Already from the first of those
countries the vanguard of such an intruding column
has appeared. The Chinese population of California
is far firom insignificant, and is steadily increasing: in
1860 it was 34,933.  It is of no importance that for
the present these people look upon the country they
thus visit as merely a tempolrary abode, in which
money is to be made, and that, as their moderate expectations of a competency are fulfilled, they hasten
to return to their native place. That is the natural
timidity of early adventurers.
But these, in due season, will be followed by others having more settled intentions.  The dislike the
American population has to them once abating-that
temporary dislike which all races of men who differ
in aspect, in ideas, in religion from one another always
171 
INTRODUCTION OF EASTERN HABITS.
entertain-the general principles of the system of the
Republic'will come into powerful effect. The facility
for acquiring proprietorship in land, the certainty of
its tenure, are temptations that no laboring class can
resist. In the same street will be seen the Josshouse, the Synagogue, the Mosque, the Chapel, the
Church.
Considering that, under the circumstances of the
case, the individuals who are thus destined to disturb
the Pacific Coast must necessarily issue from the lower social grades of the countries from which they
come, their admixture with the native American population can not be viewed without anxiety. The Pacific States will do well to look to their public schools,
laying broad and munificent foundations for their educational system, giving no encouragement to the use
of any foreign tongue, and fusing into their mass, as
thoroughly and rapidly as may be, their inevitable
hybrid population.
With Eastern blood will necessarily come Eastern
thoughts, and the attempt at Eastern social habits. I
have already (pag,e 113) referred to the political power of polygamic institutions. It must not be forgotten that they are in accordance with the sentiments
of Asiatics. Especially, also, should it be borne in
mind that they have already obtained a firm root in
Utah.  There is imminent danger of the spread of
those institutions in the West.  As  men approach
172 
TIlE POLYGAMY OF UTAH.
the confines of Asia, they seem to be affected by its
moral atmosphere.
Nor should we overlook an additional source of
disturbance from the population of Mexico-a base, a
hybrid population. Whatever may be the political
destiny of that country, contamination from it is unavoidable.  The day will come when the sentiments
expressed by the Emperor Claudius ill relation to the
Gauls, which I have quoted, page 149, will be urged
in the Senate of the United States in relation to these
people.
For the sake of drawing my reader's attention forcibly to this prospective state of affairs on the western front of the Republic, I have dwelt in some detail on the history of Arabian conquests and their extraordinary permanence. If he should see this interesting subject in the same light that it presents itself to me, I would ask his perusal of Chapters XI.
and XVI. of my " History of the Intellectual Development of Europe."
Whatever may at present be the strength of the
sentiment of disapproval or even of detestation withl
which we regard polygamy, we can not conceal from
ourselves the strong temptations that will arise for
its adoption in the West. We should remember how
easily and how often, in an evil hour, great and even
religious communities may be led astray. Our present abhorrence of this vice is no greater than was the
173 
THE P'OLYGAIY OF UTAII.
abhorrence of human slavery in England a few years
ago. Yet, because of a contingent political advantage-the division and consequent neutralization of
a maritime rival-that country forgot her noblest
philanthropic traditions, and arrayed herself in moral
support of the slave power in America.
Warned by such a conspicuous example, we need
not be surprised if hereafter there should be politicians-statesmen I will not call them-who may see
in an extension of the practices of Utah a solution of
the portentous problem of the admixture of the Pacific races. As the Saracens Arabized the north of
Africa in the course of a very few years, they may
believe that it is possible to Americanize those races.
Fifty years ago it would have been thought incredible that a polygamic state should exist in the midst
of Christian communities of European descent; and
yet a community, whose foundation rests on a religious imposture, has carried before our eyes that insti.
tution into practical effect, and is fast becoming rich
and powerful.
There is always a probability of the public adoption of political ideas when they concur with the interests or passions of those to whom  they are addressed; and conversely, it is from a want of such a
concordance that attempts at reformation and elevation of the ideas of men so often prove failures.  We
can not deny the melancholy fact that men are
174 
TilE PiOLYGAMIY OF UTAII.
guided much less by their own perceptions of right
and wrong than by an apprehension of what public
opinion in the case may be. MIany will brave their
own conscience-few society.  Conscience may be
mystified and blunted, but over society an individual
has very little control. Hence it comes to pass that
personal morality is too often much more the consequence of public opinion than of individual conscience; and hence the explanation of the remark so
often made by observant persons, that men who are
knaves as individuals, may yet, as a community, be
honest.
This lax mnorality may, I believe, be more conspic.
uously detected among trading communities than
among agriculturists.  Life among the latter is individually more independent, but position in the former
turns altogether on the consideration and credit that
a man enjoys among those with whom he has dealings.  He is constrained to comport himself according
to their standard.
Where public opinion has been dexterously manufactured, and the interests and passions of men are
insidiously provoked, very serious political faults may
be perpetrated.  No  community can be altogether
safe fromn such risks.
Since the decline of the Roman Empire, no nation
has been called upon to deal with questions of civil
policy so extensive and profound as those that must
Ii!,5 
EUROPE AND AMERICA.
necessarily occupy the attention of the Republic. In
Europe, the nations that have risen to what is there
considered to be imposing power occupy comparatively small geographical surfaces; the problems in
which they are interested have not the grandeur assumed by analogous problems here. With them, for
instance, the effect of climate is but small, the consequences of emigration easily foreseen. Though those
nations may assume very striking importance as regards the distribution of wealth, they sink at once
into insignificance as respects its creation. There is
nothing in Europe that answers to the vast deposits
of metals and minerals in North America-nothing
to its cotton, its tobacco-nothing to the agriculture
of the prairies. The whole population of that continent could be settled in the Mississippi Valley, and
find itself all the better for the change.
Still more, those nations are fettered by the results
of the policy of past ages.  They perpetually find
stumbling-blocks in their way that are moss-covered
and rotten, yet sufficiently impracticable to arrest
their advancement completely. With the noblest
aspirations, what can Italy do in presence of the
anachronism of Rome? In France it is not the arbitrary wvill of the sovereign, but the public necessity
that denies free speech and a free press.
But Europe never possessed that inappreciable
privilege that has fallen to the lot of America —unity.
176 
EUROPE AND AMERICA.
The intentions of her greatest and best men are
thwarted by the impossibility of securing consistent
actions among so many rival and antagonistic states.
It is because of her wvant of it that, after so many
centuries of trial, she has attained to no settled
maxims of political life, and to no definite religious
opinions.
Whatever, therefore, can make firm the bond of
union on this continent, will aid in securing develop
ment of national power. An inflexible resolution, in
the midst of the unparalleled sacrifices of the civil
war, has shown howv thoroughly that principle is ap
preciated. Was ever such a thing known in the
world before as the spending of eight hundred millions of dollars a year, for four successive years, to
sustain an idea? That fact betokens the future
grandeur of the Great Republic! Climate and Emigration may tend to divide; but as long as that principle is so steadfastly kept in view and so irresistibly
maintained, the means will certainly be found to neutralize their prejudicial effects.
M
177 
CHAPTER III.
ON THE POLITICAL FORCE OF IDEAS.
Ideas act on masses of men in a double manner, sometimes ex  erting an imnpelling, sometimes a resistingy agency.
The I),Spelling power of Ideas is illustrated in the case of Mo  hammxectnism, of which the political development as attained
in  S2pain, andl thle Intellectual, as nianifested in the philoso phy of Averroes, are (lesce)ibeld.
The Resisting power of Ideas is illustratedl in the case of thle
Jews..4 brief sketch is given of their history, their sacred
writi)gs, and the modi(fcations inmpressed upon them by the
Persian)s, Greeks, and Arabs.   It is their.Jessianic idea that
resists the influences of (Conquest and Time, antd preserves them
a separate people among all nations.
flcan  nmay comprehend -Yature and subjugate physical forces.
Z5(7der this Idlea m)oclern, civilization is advancing.  It is il  ltstrated by a sketch of certain scient,fic discoveries atnd utse  ful inventions.
The ecclesiastical causes of the European opposition to Scienzce
are explained, and the duty of America to (levelop an)d protect
free thought is enforced.
PIILOSOPIIICAL conceptions of the historical progress of humanity must not be altogether of a material
kind.  Thus far, howNever, such has been the view offeted in the preceding pages, which have been occupied with a consideration of the control of Climate
over the constitution of man, and the Effects of Emigration. To this wAe have now to add the impelling
and resisting power of Ideas.  Ideas force humanity 
ARABIA.
forward, though Nature has prepared the path along
which the course must be run. They also furnish a
bulwark that can resist the attacks of Time.
An Idea may therefore possess supreme political
influence. A sentiment expressed by a few words
may break up nationalities venerable for their antiquity, rearrange races of men, and revolutionize the
world.
Miany instances present themselves as suitable illustrations of these truths. Rome, for example, would
yield an appropriate text. I turn, however, from
cases which perhaps might lose their weight because
of our familiarity with them, to one which, partly
from prejudice and partly from  policy, has hitherto
been very much sequestered from our vieAs
On the eastern shore of the Red Sea, a fringe of
fertile land received from the people of antiquity the
designation of Arabia the Fortunate, or Happy. This
Paradise, described as a land of incense and perfumes,
recedes through low ranges of interior hills, and loses
itself in endless deserts of sand. Of its mountains,
some, as Horeb and Sinai, have become sanctified in
the history of the human race. In the dry season
scarce ever a cloud is seen on the sky. It is a riverless country, but in the rainy season the gorges contain rushing torrents   In different localities the temperature greatly varies: there are nights that are
freezing cold, and days when the heat rises to 100~.
179 
ARABIA.
Here and there, embosomed in the sand, are beautifuil oases, like those of Africa, natural gardens of wonderful luxuriance in the midst of a frightful sterility.
The hot breath of the simoom that blows over the
sultry waste feels as though it issued from the mouth
of a furnace. The moving and bending columns that
seem to reach to the sky, into which eddying whirlwinds work up the shifting sands, are said, in the
poetical imagery of the inhabitants, to conceal beneath their dusty veil fleeting genii of the desert,
angels of desolation, bowing their heads in homage to
the Lord.
A paradise it was truly called. See of what valuable products it is the native home-the sugar-cane,
the    banana, the tamarind, the cotton-tree, the nutmeg,
and the melon in all its varieties.  Here flourish the
date-tree, the cocoa, the fan-leaved palm, the fig, orange,
vine, quince, apricot, almond, and plantain. The horticulturist may envy its botany; the physician bestow
a nod of approval on a land that has given him the
castor-oil plant and senna, and brought him many a
profitable fee.
How much has the morality of the world been improved by coffee, first brought from Arabia! A substitute for intoxicating drinks, it has refined society,
imparted innocent comfort to individuals, and peace
to many a family. We abuse the abstemious religion of Mecca, the berry of Mocha we use.
180 
MOHAMMED.
The wilderness of Arabia is the birthplace of that
most noble of all quadrupeds, the horse.  Though his
neck is clothed with thunder, and tlhe glory of his
nostrils is terrible-though he paweth in the valley
and rejoiceth ill his strength-though he swalloweth
the ground in his fierceness and rage, neither can he
persuade himself that it is the sound of the trumpet
-though hle smelleth the battle afar off, the thunder
of the captains and the shouting, he plays with the
Bedouin children that are round his master's tent.
How deeply has a love of that beautiful creature affected thle civilization of Europe!  What had it not
to do with chivalry! It turned the bloodthirsty warrior into a gentle and courteous knight.
If, as we hlave seen, Climate and the aspect of Nature give a special character to humanity, what kind
of men should we expect in a riverless and forestless
country-the companions of the camel and the horse?
With a just pride, the inhabitants boast that their
land has been the birthplace of the sciences and of
the religion of half the human race.
In the year 569 was born at Mecca, & little town
in that country, now sacred in the eyes of all Mussulmen, a man who has exerted an enduring influence
on the human race-A-Mohamlmed, by Europeans surnamed the Impostor.  Though descended from an ancient and proud family, his early life was spent in
penury; and while only yet a boy of thirteen years,
181 
CAUSE OF MIENTAL DELUSIONS.
he was constrained so completely to give himself up
to the pursuits of trade, that his enemies have affirmed he never knew how to read or write.  Industry,
and marriage with an opulent widow, whose agent he
had been for a length of time, gave him wealth at
last, and enabled him, before he had reached forty, to
abandon his mercantile pursuits.
In very remote times- so remote that the circumstance had almost degenerated into a legend -there
had fallen at Mecca, from the sky, a mass of iron, such
as is now termed a meteoric stone. The primitive inhabitants had guarded this celestial body with religious care, erected a temple for its custody, and worshiped it as a god. Their idolatry had also extended
to the adoration of certain graven forms.
Whether through the self-denial of a too abstemious life, or through that profound religious melancholy into which good men who have had large experience of the vanities of the world sometimes fall,
Mohammed became the victim of mental illusion.
There were unseen voices that whispered to him, and
phantoms that he saw. In lucid intervals he suspected the evil into which he was falling, and warned
his wife Chadizah that he feared he might become insane.
From the Jewish anchorets who of old sought a retreat beneath the shade of the palms of Engaddi, who
beguiled their wNeary hours in the chanting of psalms
182 
CAUSE OF MENTAL DELUSIONS.
by the bitter waters of the Dead Sea from the plhilosophic Hindoo, who sought for happiness in bodily
inaction and mental exercise, to the preaching soldier,
who enforces his opinions by the edge of his sword,
the stages of delusion are numerous and successive.
But, so far from being impostures, these are nothing
more than may be produced at any time. In the
brain of man, impressions of whatever he has seen or
heard, of whatever has been made manifest to him by
his other senses, nay, even the vestiges of his former
thoughts, are stored up. These traces are most vivid
at first, but by degrees they decline in force, though
they probably never completely die out.  During
our waking hours, while we are perpetually receiving
new impressions from things that surround us, such
vestiges are overpowered, and can not attract the attention of the mind; but in the period of sleep, when
external influences cease, they emerge from oblivion,
and the mind, submitting to the' delusion, groups
them into the fantastic forms of dreams. By the use
of opium and other drugs which can blunt our sensibility to passing events, these phantasms may be
evoked. They also offer themselves in the delirium
of fevers and in the hour of death.
It is immaterial in what manner or by what agency
our susceptibility to the impressions of surrounding
objects is benumbed, whether by drugs, or sleep, or
disease; as soon as their force is no greater than that
183 
CAUSE OF MENTAL DELUSIONS
of forms already registered in the brain, these last
will appear before us, and deceptions and apparitions
are the result. No man can submit to long-continued
and rigorous fasting without becoming the subject of
these hallucinations; and the more he enfeebles his
organs of sense, the more vivid is the exhibition, the
more profound the illusion.
The images that may thus emerge in the brain
have been classed by physiologists among the phe nomlena of inverse vision or cerebral sight.  From
the moral effect to which they can give rise, we are
very liable to connect them with the supernatural.
In truth, they are, however, the natural result of the
action of the nervous mechanism, which of necessity
produces them when in the proper condition. It can
act either directly, as in ordinary vision, or inversely,
as in cerebral sight, and in this respect resembles
those instruments which equally yield a musical
sound whether the air is blown through them or
drawn in.  Yet, natural as their production is, such
is the constitution of manl, that the bravest and
wisest encounter these fictions of their own imaginia.
tion with awe.  Few things, in fact, have exerted a
greater influence on the career of the human race
than these spiritual visitations.  The visions of Mohammed have ended in tincturing the daily life of
half the people of Asia and Africa for a thousand
years.  A spectre that came into the camp at Sardis
184 
CAUSE OF MENTAL DELUSIONS.
unnerved the heart of Brutus, and thereby put an end
to the political system that had made the great republic the arbitress of the world.
It is the localization of the phantom-that creation
of the brain-among the bodies and things around
us, that gives force to these illusions. The form of a
cloud no bigger than the hand is perhaps first seen
floating over the carpet; but this, as the eye follows
it, takes on a definite shape, and the sufferer sees with
dismay a moping raven perched on some of the distant articles of furniture. Or, out of an indistinct
cloud, female faces, sometimes of surprising loveliness,
emerge, a new face succeeding as a former dies away.
The mind, ever ready to practice imposture upon itself, will at last accompany the illusion with grotesque
or dreadful inventions. A sarcophagus, painted after
the mianner of the Egyptians, distresses the visionary
with the rolling of its eyes. Sometimes, instead of a
solitary phantom intruding itself among recognized
realities, as the shade of a deceased friend opens the
door and noiselessly steps in, the complicated scenes
of a true drama are displayed-the brain becomes, as
it were, a theatre. According as the travel or the
reading of the sick man may have been, the illusion
takes a style-black vistas of Oriental architecture
that stretch away into infinite night-temples, and
fanes, and the battlemented walls of cities, colossal
Pharaohs sitting in everlasting silence with their
185 
THE DELUSIONS OF MOIIAMMED.
hands upon their knees. "I saw," says De Quincey,
in his Confessions of an Opium Eater, "as I lay awake
in bed, vast processions that passed along in mournful pomp; friezes of never-ending stories, that to my
feelings were as sad and solemn as if they were stories drawn from times before CEdipus or Priam, before Tyre, before Memphis.  And, at the same time, a
corresponding change took place in my dreams; a
theatre seemed suddenly opened and lighted up within mlly brain, which presented nightly spectacles of
more than earthly splendor."
Mohammed, having, retired to the solitude of the
desert, devoted himself to meditation, fasting, prayer,
and became the victim of these cerebral delusions.
Hle  vwas visited by supernatural appearances, mysterious voices accosting him as the Prophet of God.  It
is related that, as he sat alone with Chadizah his
wife, a shadow entered the tent. "Dost thou see
aught?" said Chadizahl, who remarked his agitation,
and who, after the manner of Arabian matrons, wore
her veil.  "I do," said the Prophet; whereupon she
uncovered her face and said, "Dost thou see it now?"
"I do nlot."  "Glad tidings to thee, 0 Mohammed!"
exclaimed Chadizah; "it is an angel, for he has respected my unveiled face; an evil spirit would not."
As his disease advanced, these spectres became more
frequent.  It was from one of them that he received
the divine commission to preach.  "I," said his wife,
186 
THE FORCE OF AN IDEA.
"will be thy first believer," and they knelt down in
prayer together. Since that eventful night nine thousand millions of human beings have acknowledged
him to be a prophet of God.
A preaching soldier! The qualities implied in that
character belong only to the highest rank of men.
Of such was Mohammed.  His theology was simple
-" There is but one God;" but to that hle also added, "and MIohammed is his Prophet."
The great earthquake of Lisbon, in 1755, was felt
from Norway to Morocco, fromi Poland to the West
Indies.  It absolutely lifted the whole bed of the
North Atlantic Ocean. What a vast physical impulse that implies!
But is there no political force in an Idea? The
dogma of Mohammed sent a quivering thrill through
the souls of men from the Gulf of Guinea to the Chinese Sea.  Three contiinents-Asia, Africa, Europe
rocked to their foundations under it.  Empires venerable for their antiquity, religions covered with the
hoar of antiquity, vanished away. As the breath can
melt the graceful ice-forms that incrust a window on
a winter's morning, so the breath of the Prophet melted away whole races of men and their works.
There is something wonderful in this propagation
of thought from man to man. As a candle may be
lighted from a flame, and again and again others may
be kindled in succession one from another without
187 
PROGRESS OF MOIIAMMIEDtANISM.
any impairment of the intrinsic brightness, so thought
passes from one to another, ever growing, never losing
its innate force. That thought-the oneness of God,
and a divine mission imposed on a man-passed forth
from the Prophet and was received by his trusting
wife. In the departing twilight of an Arabian summer's evening they knelt down, hand in hand, at the
entrance of their tent. They prayed to the All-merciful that he would take pity on them and show them
what to do. In a few months the fire had kindled in
a few zealous disciples. It occasioned a brief strug.
gle in Arabia: there were battles. God gave victory
to his servant: the country bowed under the convincing argument of his sword. Within twelve years
after the death of their great leader his followers had
reduced the chief fortified places in Persia, Syria, Africa. They quickly extended their dominion a thousand miles east and a thousand west. The churches
of Syria and of Asia Minor, that garden of the world,
were utterly destroyed; above all, Jerusalem, the
Holy City of the East, with all its touching recollections, was seized.  In Persia, its native place, Magianism, a religion venerable for its antiquity, went down
before the storm; in India, Vedaism, the worship of
Nature, the pantheistic belief of one hundred and
twenty millions of men, met its rival and master; in
China, Buddhism, the settled creed of four hundred
millions, shared the same fate. The tempest of Sara
188 
PROGRESS OF MOIIAMMEDANISlM.
cen armies pushed its conquering career along the
north coast of Africa. Confronted by the impassable
Atlantic, the Arabs turned aside into Spain, and held
that country for as long as it is from the Norman con.
quest of England to our day. Almost as if by a miracle, the rest of Europe escaped.
"There is but one God, and Mohammed is his
Prophet."  The vanquished must make his choice between that confession, or tribute, or death.
Is there, then, no political force in an Idea? Gold
and silver, and iron and coal, and cotton and oil, material things that are forced out of the earth, are these
the divinities?  An idea can shake humanity to its
foundations, an idea can govern the world.
It is impossible to compress into the limited space
at my disposal the long story of the consequences of
all these wonderful political events.  It is needful to
make a selection, and I choose that which has proved
to be the most closely connected with the history of
WTestern Europe, and therefore with our own-the
Saracen conquest of Spain.
Scarcely had the Arabs become firmly settled in
Spain before they commenced a brilliant career.
Adopting what had now become the established policy of the Commanders of the Faithful, the IKhalifs
of Cordova distinguished themselves as patrons of
learning, and set an example of refinement strongly
contrasting with the condition of the native European
189 
THE SARACENS IN SPAIN.
princes.  Cordova, under their administration, boasted of more than 200,000 houses and more than a million of inhabitants. After sunset a man might walk
through it in a straight line for ten miles by the light
of the public lamps: seven hundred years after this
time there was not so much as one public lamp in
London.  Its streets were solidly paved: ill Paris,
centuries subsequently, whoever stepped over his
threshold on a rainy day, stepped up to his ankles in
mud.  The Spanish Mohammedans had brought with
them all the luxuries of Asia.  Their residences stood
forth against the clear blue sky, or were emabosomed
in woods. They had polished marble balconies over.
hanging orange gardens, courts with cascades of water, retiring-rooms vaulted with stained glass speckled
with gold; the floors and walls were of exquisite mosaics. Here a fountain of quicksilver shot up in a
glistening spray, the glittering particles falling with
a tranquil sound like fairy bells; there, apartments
into -which cool air was drawn in summer from flowergardens. Clusters of frail marble columns surprised
the beholder with the vast weights they bore. In
the boudoirs of the Sultanas they were sometimes
of verd antique, and incrusted with lapis- lazuli.
Through pipes of metal, water both warm and cold,
to suit the season of the year, ran into baths of marI)le; in niches, where the current of air could be artificially directed, hung dripping alcarazzas.  There
190 
THE SARACENS IN SPAIN.
were whispering - galleries for the amusement of the
women, labyrinths and marble play-courts for the
chlildren, for the master himself grand libraries.  At
this brilliant focus barbarian Europe lighted its lamp
of civilization.
Such were the Khalifs of the West; such their
splendor, their luxury. Considering the enchanting
country over which they ruled, it was not without
reason that they caused to be engraven on the public
seal, "The servant of the Most Merciful rests contented in the decrees of God."  What more, indeed, could
they have had? But, considering also the evil end
of all this happiness and pomp, we may well appreciate the solemn truth wAhich these monarchs, in their
day of pride and powver, grandly wrote in the beautiful mosaics on their palace walls-an ever-recurring
monition to him vwho owes dominion to the swvord"There is no conqueror but God."
From these political events I turn to philosophical
results, with a view of showing w-hat, in that directionl, w-ere the consequences of the fmundamental Arabian idea.
History conspicuously teaches that there will always emerge from every great religious confession
men who endeavor to cast light on its principles by
the aid of human reason -men who will philosophize.
If, therefore, we desire to measure the force of an idea
and to master all its bearings intelligently, we must
191 
MOHAIMMIEDAN PHILOSOPHY.
add to the estimate of its material or political momentum an appreciation of its philosophical development.
That is what I now proceed to do in the present case.
Within a century after Mohammed's death, so active was the mental movement among his followers
that they began to dispute about fiee-will and predestination. Soon in Bagdad controversies arose respecting the attributes of God, and philosophical
schools were founded, the branches of which ramified
along the coast of Africa into Spain, and in the opposite direction extended into the far East. We comprehend at once the spirit of these schools when we
consider the bearing of the maximn of one destined
eventually to stand at the head of all the rest' The
special religion of philosophers is to study what is
sublime, and the most sublime worship that can be
rendered to God is the study of his works."  There,
if I mistake not, was the secret of the Saracen delight
in the cultivation of natural science.
At the capture of Alexandria, in the early days of
Mohammedanism, the Saracens wvere brought in contact with the vestiges of Greek philosophy. The
Christians whom they found there had long leaned to
the views of Plato, whose doctrines had been cultivatedl by some of them with singular effect. On the
other hand, the Saracens attached themselves to Aristotle as their scientific guide.  And thus it came to
pass that the higher aspects of Mohammedanism
192 
MOHAMMEDAN PHILOSOPHY.              193
were tinctured with the opinions of that great Greek
writer, and the Arabians held to be the expounders
of the Aristotelian philosophy. A very great mod erm  critic regards the attitude in which their philo sophical schools stood as being a reaction against
Arabism; but with diffidence I express an opposite
opinion, believing that the doctrines maintained by
them were the necessary extension of the fundamental dogma of their faith, that there is but one God.
That extension of their dogma was destined to
shake Europe to its centre. Asserting the omnipresence of God, they affirmed that all human souls had
emanated from him, and were destined to return ultimlately to him, as a drop of water vaporized from
the sea, though it may pass through a thousand vicissitudes, is pressed by an inevitable destiny, and sooner or later returns to the sea again. They developed
these ideas into a vast system, distinguished by the
vigor of its conceptions and the acuteness of its reasoning. It is needless to particularize the details of
that system.  Its general tendency may be gathered
from a few of its doctrines and sentiments.
From the cardinal idea of Mohammedanism they
therefore  affirmed that the important doctrine of
the Indestructibility and Conservation of Force, and
its necessary consequence, the Unity of human souls,
arose. They were the authors of the so-called modern theory of development, anticipating the most re                        N 
MOHAMMEDAN PHILOSOPHY.
cent writers on that subject in many of its details.
Carrying the Fatalism of their creed into their philosophy-and it is such incidents as these that persuade
me that they were not in antagonism to Arabismthey first give expression to that portentous maxim,
"What can be, is." The adoption of such opinions
bore, of course, at once on the great truth of the final
accountability of man, making him an unresisting
agent. In a scientific point of view that maxim was
carried out to its consequences, as against the doctrine
known as that of final causes. In the luxurious and
splendid society of Spain such sentiments met a ready
acceptance. Listen to what one of their most powerful writers says: he is coordinating the grand views
of Aristotle on the world of living things, with the
Fatalism of Mohammed: "There is an eternal sea of
Being, on the surface of which play the oscillating
and variable ripples of individuality. God deals with
the general laws of the universe, not with individuals.
He recognizes the ocean, not its waves." Interpreting
the abstract doctrines of Aristotle by the light of
their natural faith, they were thus brought at once to
the self-indulgence of Epicurus and the doubt of
Pyrrho.  They said, "Permit all things, believe nothing." They professed that their conception of a perfect civil state is merely this: "It is that which requires neither a physician nor a judge."
These statements may convey an idea of the condi
194 
AVERROISM.
tion to which philosophy had come, not only among
the Spanish Arabs, but also among those of Asia.
The real birthplace of these opinions Was Bagdad.
From thence they ramified over all the Mohammedan
world. Of their writers, the most celebrated was
Averroes.  Let us now  see what  were the  consequences of these things in Europe.
It was during the pontificate of Innocent III.,
about the year 1200, that the Mendicant orders were
established in the Roman Church. The course of
ages had brought an unintelligibility into public worship. Latin, like an old dialect, had become obsolete;
the modern languages were forming. Among those
classes, daily increasing in numbers, whose minds
were awakening, an earnest desire for instruction was
arising. Multitudes were crowding to hear philosophical discourses in the universities, and heresy was
spreading very fast. But it was far from being confined to the intelligent.  The lower orders furnished
heretics and fanatics too. To antagonize the labors
of these zealots, who, if they had been permitted to go
on unchecked, would quickly have disseminated their
doctrines through all classes of society, the Dominican
and Franciscan orders were founded.  They were well
adapted to their duty. It was their business to move
among the people, preaching to them in their own
tongue wherever an audience could be collected.
A very few years were needed to change totally
195 
the aspect of the mendicant orders. No longer rope.
bound, starving zealots, they became the most learned
men in Europe, filling the chief professorships in the
universities. They plunged deeply into the mysteries of Averroism, and were soon divided into parties.
The Dominicans were animated with the fiercest hatred against the Arabs, denouncing them as infidel
Epicureans; the Franciscans took the opposite side,
and holding, for the time, control of the University
of Paris, made it a focus of Averroism.  It would be
in vain to attempt to give an adequate conception of
the scholastic disputations that arose. Wherever
there was a monastery, there was a furious debate.
Italy quickly became involved.  Commercial prosperity had concentrated in Venice immense wealth. She
had a powerful aristocratic class, and in that high society, as it had been in the high society of Spain,
Averroism became fashionable. It held fast its ground
all through the north of Italy. In a letter from Columbus, dated Hayti, October, 1498, he says: "Averroes is one of the writers vwho has made me divine
the existence of the New World." That remark assures us that in common with the progressive men of
his time, the Great Admiral was familiar with the
views of the Spanish Mohammedan.  They were now
beginning to produce important physical results, and
preparing the way for that scientific school soon to
be made glorious by the discoveries of Galileo, Torri
AVERROISM.
196 
INFLUENCE OF AVERROISM IN EUROPE.
celli, and the Florentines. The proud fabric of modern science, the prodigies of modern industry, our vast
manufactures, came from this source.
In vain the Roman  authorities, appreciating the
w-hole state of the case, forbade the reading of the
physical works  of Aristotle in the University of
Paris.  The contagion broke out nearer home in the
University of Padua, stimulated and sustained by the
wealthy people of Venice.  It was clear that strenuous measures must be resorted to to abate the trouble.  The Papal government took its course, and by
the Lateran Council, under Leo X., the formal condemnation of the philosophy of Averroes was pronounced.
But wvhoever is familiar with the writings of the
Italian statesmen will trace to this source the maxims of policy indicated by them; and those maxims,
spreading fromnt Italy, Nwhiere they had long been in
use, became the secret principles of diplomacy all
over Europe. It is only in much more recent times
that they have been supplanted by purer and more
honorable means.
Such is the proigress, and such, often, the power of
an Idea.  From the mind in whichl it first originated
it may spread, until at last, physically and intellectually, whole continents may be involved.  It is useless, then, to say that ideas have no force. In truth,
they govern the world. A tide of human intelligence
197 
INFLUENCE OF ARABIAN IDEAS.
followed the movement of the Arabian Crescent as a
watery tide in the sea follows the motion of the moon.
It may be that some of the results in the particular
instance weve have been considering are of a kind to
meet our disapproval; but it is with their force, not
with their goodness or evil, that wve are concerned.
See how that dogma which obtruded itself on the
disturbed fancy of an enthusiastic Arab in his tent,
and haunted him like something supernatural-a dogma in part consisting of an everlasting truth known
from the old times, and in part of a fiction never heard
of before-gradually forced its way, overthrowing empires and remodeling societies! Thinkl not that it
made its way by the aid of the sword alone. The
sword may for a moment change an acknowledged
national creed, but it can not affect the consciences
of men. Profound though its argument be, something
far more profound is demanded to produce results
such as have been occupying our attention.
The idea was suitable to the times, and to the condition of those to whom it was addressed. There lay
the secret of its rapid spread-its intrinsic force on
one hand, opportunity on the other.
Arabian history thus gives a most striking instance
of the i5pelling power of an Idea. No better example of the resisting power of an Idea can be furnished
than that afforded by Israelitish history. Ideas have
a passive as well as an active political force.
198 
THE JEWS.
What is it that, after more than twenty centuries
of conquest, subjugation, and persecution-after exposure to all the allurements of idolatry and all the
fascinations of philosophy- after transportation to
every country under the sun-   llwhat is it that has
kept this Asiatic people  an  undestroyed nation?
Their idea of a Messiah or a Deliverer.
In the earlier periods of their history the Jewish
people had continually shown a disposition to fall
into the idolatries of the surrounding nations. Even
under the eyes of their lawgiver they resumed in the
desert the adoration of Apis, which they had learned
in Egypt, and animal worship is but a step removed
from Fetichism. The Syrian tribes among whom they
were subsequently thrown had already passed to the
more elevated form of star-worship, Baal and the
crescent-horned Astarte, the sun and the moon, being
their principal divinities. It was with difficulty that
the rulers and prophets of Israel reclaimed them from
their perpetual backslidings to these idolatries.
So long as the Jews maintained themselves as a
compact and independent nation, these idolatrous
lapses can only be regarded as transient maladies
from which they easily recovered. But very different was it after the conquest of Jerusalem by Nebucliadnezzar and the carrying of the people into captivity.  To the multitude, who had ever shown a disposition to adopt the idea of the corporealization of
199 
MAGIANISM.
God, and who had estimated the weakness or power
of cities in warfare with their enemies by the weakness or power of their tutelary deities rather than by
their military resources, the ruin of the Temple and
the downfall of the Priesthood was a moral blowv the
force of which we can scarcely estimate.  Their compulsory residence in Assyria established with that
country connections and relationships which, so far
fromn ending with the nominal restoration of the nation to its ancient seats, continued throughout their
entire subsequent history, even after the final destruction of Jerusalem by the Romans.  In Persia they
learned MIagianism. To that form of Religion, embraced, undoubtedly, the more readily because of the
shock their own faith had sustained, we must impute
all those novelties they exhibit after their return from
captivity. Its philosophical aspect might even recommiend it to the more intellectual among them.  In
one essential point it offered a correspondence to the
Hebrew doctrine forbidding the worship of God under any graven image or form.  Asserting the existence of one Great First Cause, it placed beneath him
two subordinate powers, metaphorically set forth as
Light and Darkness. It explained the co-existence
of good and evil in the world on the principle that
wherever there is brightness there must be shadow.
It presented an impersonation of these powers in Ormusd, the Prince of Glory, and in Ahriman, or Satan,
200 
MAGIANISM.
the embodiment of Evil or Darkness, beneath whom
there were marshaled respectively armies of angels
and demons.  Originally Satan was created pure, but,
becoming envious of the glory of Ormusd, he was pre cipitated into the abyss.  Between these dual divini ties an unceasing warfare was waged.  And since the
First Cause was far removed from all material things,
incapable of being approached even by man, it was
needful that there should be a mediator.  Ornusd,
the principle of benevolence and light, had created
man in a state of purity and virtue; whlile Ahriman,
the principle of evil and darkness, continually sought
his destruction. In the last day of this conflict, when
Ahriman is conquered and cast into darkness, the
children of light who have been saved will enter into
eternal glory. Not only is the soul of man immortal,
bu]t there is for the good a resurrection from the dead.
The punislhment of Ahriman is not, however, to be
eternal: he will be purified in a Purgatory with torments of fire. The Magians admitted angelic influences under visible forms, and accepted the idea of
'Incarnation. They recognized the necessity of a tangible form of worship for the illiterate, and lhence set
forth, as emblems of Ormusd, Fire, Light, the Sun, to
which devotions might be paid.
Ailagianism therefore presented a complete and consistent religious scheme very different firom the fiagmentary mythology of Europe, which offered no per
201 
202    EFFECT OF MAGIANISM ON THE HIEBREWS.
vading idea.  So far as its doctrine of a First Cause
is concerned, it approached, as has been said, to the
Israelitish conception. It dealt with the great moral
problem of the existence of evil in the world. It had
a Principle of Good and of Evil, a mechanism of Ange]s and Demons.  It contemplated man as being exposed in this life continually to the wiles of the Devil.
It included the idea of a Mediator between God and
man; it asserted the immortality of the human soul,
and a state of future rewards and punishments. Its
ritual has descended to us in the "Zendavesta," or
"Oracles of Life," said to be a revelation from Ormusd.
Before the Babylonian captivity the Jews seem to
have entertained corporeal views of the nature of
God, and not to have accepted the doctrine of a future life, but looked for rewards and punishments exclusively in this. They did not admit a resurrection
from the Dead.  But, after that event, many of the
doctrines of the Magians are plainly to be seen in
their religious belief; and, indeed, upon one of the
more prominent of them, the great national schism between the Pharisees and Sadducees arose.  The lattelr, assuming the air of an elevated philosophy, pretending to lift themselves above vulgar ideas, altogetlher rejected the articles of the existence of angels,
the immortality of the soul, and of the future state.
It has been the fortune of Magianism, on two occasions, to affect powerfully the Monotheism of the 
LATER MAGIAN EFFECTS.
West; once in thus completely modifying the Hebrew faith by imparting to it many new ideas, and
again, in the early ages of Christianity, by amalgamating itself therewith, and giving origin to the varied
forms of Gnosticism. Not only were Syria, Asia Minor, and Egypt filled with pseudo-Magian sects, but
a permanent impression was imparted to the subsequent Catholic form.  Of this, any one may be satisfied who compares the state of Christianity in the first
century with that in the tenth, aiding himself in his
examination by the acknowledged Magian creed. It
is an interesting circumstance that the Catholic authorities charge the earlier Reformers with Magian
tendencies under the forms of Manichaeism. Thus
the Albigenses, in the latter part of the twelfth century, the Waldenses, the Vaudois, the Picards, the Petrobrusians, are placed under that stigma.
The co-existence of conflicting ideas in the same religion may arise not only from conquest, when one
caste is holding another in subjugation, but also in a
society truly homogeneous, so far as origin is concerned, but which, in its progress, has become decomposed
into two portions-a thinking class, and a class which
is absorbed in the cares of supporting animal existence. With national development the number and
influence of the first class steadily increases, and in
the end it exercises a regulating political power.
Such a society, therefore, will always exhibit a tend
203 
20-1  PHILOSOPHICAL PROGRESS OF THE HEBREWS.
ency to philosophical progress in its religious views;
and if its condition is examined at intervals considerably apart, the advance that has been made is often
very striking. Thus there can not be any doubt that
among the ancient Israelites it was the current belief
that Almighty God made his residence behind the
veil of the Temple. In later times, when more noble
and more worthy views of the divine nature wvere attained to, the same people could not possibly accept
a doctrine expressing such a corporealization of God,
and, with patriotic inconsistency, limited that occupancy to the time of the Temple of Solomon. Herein
we see the effect of opinions originating in a more advanced class of society, and gradually ascended to by
a lower. They end in producing compromises, the inconsistency of which is excused because of the necessities of the case.
Perhaps I may here be excused a passing remark
on those venerable books constituting the Pentateuch,
which not only serve as a guide to the daily life of
Israel in all parts of the world, and are looked upon
by Christendom with a sentiment of profound reverence, but which unhappily have been diverted from
their original intent, and made to exert a most extraordinary, and, I will add, repressing influence on the
advancement of scientific discovery.
I think that whoever will read this portion of the
Holy Scriptures with critical care, having first brought 
THE PENTATEUCII.
his mind to a clear appreciation of the manners and
opinions of the ancient Egyptians, and also of those
of the Assyrians, will be forcibly drawn to the conclusion that the author, or rather authors of these
books, lived nearer to the banks of the Euphrates
than to those of the Nile. If such an expression may
wvithl propriety be used, their literary aspect is Assyrian, not Egyptian.
An author, even though inspired, must necessarily
receive a tincture from the scenery, the time, the com.
iunity in which he lives.  The images and expressiolns he uses wvill all accord with a certain style. In
literary composition, as in painting, there is a style
which makes itself obviously manifest to the critical
eye. Nay, even the handwriting of a man is readily
detected by those who are familiar with it, though it
would be very difficult for them  to say wherein the
peculiarity consists.  I repeat it-the style of this
portion of the Inspired Volume is Asiatic, not African.
For the sake of modern science, and of true religion
too, it is deeply to be regretted that this interesting
question can not be remitted to the state in which it
wvas a century ago, when it was regarded, both by
Christian and Jewvish writers, as a point to be dealt
with according to the rules of ordinary criticism, and
not as a matter of sentiment.
With diffidence I would suggest that the treatment
of this question wvill probably demand a renewed and
205 
TIlE PENTATEUCH.
critical examination of the authenticity of the four  teenth chapter of the second book of Esdras, called
apocryphal. It is desirable to know what it was
that determined so many very ancient and very great
ecclesiastical writers - Irenaeus, Tertullian, Clemens
Alexandrinus, Basil, Jerome, Augustine, Chrysostom
-to accept the affirmations of that chapter as true.
They lived much nearer the date of these events than
we do; perhaps they had more certain means to guide
their judgment. They held that the original Penta teuch was lost or destroyed in the Babylonian cap tivity, and that the statement that Ezra is affirmed to
make in the place above quoted must be received as
accurate.
That statement is to this effect: that the original
books were burnt; and that, for the purpose of fur nishing a guide to the people, Ezra undertook to
write all that had been done in the world fiom the
beginning.
To this end, he took five amanuenses, and secluded
himself for forty days. In that time the books were
written; and the Most High ordered that the first
portion of them should be published openly, that the
worthy and the unworthy might read it.
But the latter portion was to be reserved for the
wise, for in them is the vein of understanding, and
the fountain of wisdom, and the river of knowledge.
And Ezra did as he was ordered to do. There were,
then, esoteric and exoteric books.
206 
THE MESSIANIC IDEA.
Ezra, a priest and Doctor of the Law, was a prisoner ill Media in the reign of Artaxerxes I., king of
Persia, B.C. 458. It may be added, to connect the
recollection of these events with European chronology, that they happened about the time that Themistocles put himself to death.
To return from this digression: Persia imposed on
the Jews an intellectual impression discoverable in all
their subsequent history. It gave a special characteristic to their religious faith. Above all, on their return to their native country they brought with them
the idea that has imparted to them, in subsequent
ages, indestructibility.  In their captivity they had
been witnesses of many great political events. They
had seen their Babylonian desolator made desolate,
their victor vanquished. It was in the uncertainties
and sufferings of these events, when they hung their
harps on the willows and wept when they remembered Zion, that the hope of a Deliverer first arose; and
in the greater calamities of after ages, this, which in
the first instance was no more than a wished-for political event, became a fixed religious expectation.
Experience had shown them that in the fall and rise
of great empires they had been preserved. It taught
them to look with an inflexible faith through all the
vicissitudes of the future.
After the overthrow of the Persian Empire by
Alexander the Great, the Jews were brought in con
207 
HEBREW DEVELOPMENT.
tact with a new intellectual disturbance-Greek phi.
losophy. The Syrian Jews successfully resisted that
influence; the trifling approaches made to it were of
a very transitory kind. Such outward manifestations
as the race-course and gymnasia, that had been established, did not suit the genius of Jerusalem. But it
was far otherwise with those Israelitish emigrants
who had settled in Egypt.  Under the favoring climate of that country they became thoroughly Hellenized. Among them the philosophy of Plato found
enthusiastic devotees, and through them the whole
current of later European religious thought has been
affected.
As they had withstood Greek, so, too, they withstood Roman influence. In vain Antiochus Epiphanes, who had long lived in Rome, tried to bring
about a change; in vain succeeding princes renewed
the attempt; the stubborn, stiff-necked people were
as unyielding as adamant.  The Pharisees, who constituted the patriotic party-l-Hebrews of the Hebrews
-would have nothing to do with the fictions or philosophies of the West.  They left that, with derision
and detestation, to the infidel Sadducees.
Still again; when the Arabians overwhelmed by
their military conquests Asia and Africa, though the
Jew in one sense affiliated with the victorious intruder, in another, with an inborn instinct, he kept himself separate. The Syrian branch of the family, with
208' 
HEBREW DEVELOPMIENT.
its immovable austerities, had yielded in importance
to the Egyptian: it had been more than decimated by
the bitterness of Roman subjugation, both Pagan and
Christian; but the Egyptian Israelite, though declin ing the forms of Mecca, gave his hand to the Saracen.
They found a point of harmony in the great doctrine
of the oneness of God. From this alliance both par ties took benefit: the Arab gained philosophy, and
the Jewv political influence.  Conjointly they forced
upon Europe its chief modern characteristic- scien tific advancement.
Not until the Syrian Jew had become modified by
migrating to other countries did his character change.
So long as he w-as in the chosen land, he was ever the
same unyielding fanatic.  He had no conception of
art, either as expressed by painting or statuary. In
possession of what he considered to be a supernatural
revelation, it was impossible that literature should
prosper with him, or even receive the smallest encouragement. His profound belief in signs and wonders
was incompatible with science, and accordingly nothing deserving of that name existed in his nation.
But his mind as well as his sky changed when he
migrated to other countries.  He became great among
the greatest in all these manifestations of the highest
results of human civilization.
Scattered all over the world, Israel still, as a peo.
ple, exists.  Go where we will, we may always find
0
209 
HEBREW DEVELOPMENT.
its patriarchal graybeard, when all other earthly objects and pursuits are passing away, sitting in hourly
expectation of an annunciation of the Messiah. It is
that, and no miracle, which, through the wreck of nations and the extinction of men, has given to the Jew
immortality. He lives through the force of an idea.
I can not close these remarks better than by quoting a passage of profound import from the learned
author of the "Etudes d'Histoire Religieuse:"
"If, finally, we put to ourselves this question, Has
Israel fulfilled its calling? has it, in the grand mingling of nations, kept the post that was originally intrusted to it? we reply without hesitation, Yes.  Israel has been the stem on which the faith of the human race has been grafted. No people has taken its
destiny so seriously as Israel; none has felt so vividly its joys and its sorrows as a nation; none has lived
more thoroughly for an idea. Israel has vanquished
Time, and made use of all its oppressors.  The day
when a false report caused us to celebrate one year
too soon the taking of Sebastopol, an old Polish Jew,
who spends his days in the Imperial Library, absorbed in reading the dusty manuscripts of his nation,
greeted me with this quotation friom Isaiah:'Is it
fallen, is it fallen, Babylon?' The victory of the Allies, as he saw it, was but the chastisement for violence practiced on his co-religionists by the man whom
he called the Nebuchadnezzar and the Antiochus of
210 
THE CONQUEST OF NATURE.
our time. In that sad old man I seemed to see before
me the living genius of that indestructible people.
Over every ruin it has clapped its hands; persecuted
by all men, on al men it has been avenged. For this
it has needed but one quality-a quality which, however, man gives not to himself-endurance. It is by
this that it has brought to pass the boldest predictions of its prophets. The world that despised it has
come round to it. Jerusalem at this present hour is
truly'a house of prayer for all nations,' equally venerated by Jew, by Christian, by Mussulman."
These instances of the political force of Ideas in the
case of the Arabians and the Israelites may serve as
an introduction to the consideration of that grander
idea under which modern civilization is evolving; it
is, that man can comprehend Nature, and subjugate
physical agents to his use.
A most audacious conception-the conquest of Nature! Like other grand ideas, it has slowly emerged
from small beginnings and is steadily forcing its way.
Resisted by influences that have gathered around
them in the course of centuries political power, it has
overthrown many and confronts the rest. Modern
Europe is fast submitting herself to its rule.
It first formally appeared in the writings of Aristotle, and gained strength through the events consequent on the Asiatic campaign of Alexander the
211 
212          THE CONQUEST OF NATURE.
Great.  Under the auspices of the Ptolemies, who
founded in Alexandria institutions for its encouragement, it received a marked development, and would
probably have modified the aspect of human affairs,
had it not been for the founding of the Byzantine
Empire.
For it so fell out that the political position of Constantine the Great and his successors was incompatible with the protection of science, the knowledge of
Nature. Those sovereigns placed themselves in inflexible opposition to it; and to the last, when they
were overthrown by the Turks, used whatever power
they had for its destruction. The policy they thus
adopted became incorporated with the ecclesiastical
system they represented, and, though with diminished force, it has descended to our times.
But it was not in Constantinople alone that events
took this unhappy course. Papal Rome, through her
ancient connection with the Byzantine policy, became
in like manner committed; and her ecclesiastical influence, reaching even through the Reformation, still
acts adversely on the investigation of Nature and
against the free propagation of thought.
So far as Europe has found relief from this intellectual oppression, her deliverance has come through
those people to whose history I have been referring
-the Arabians and the Jews. Modern Science as
well as modern Industry is their creation. 
THE CONQUEST OF NATURE.
I now propose to devote a few pages to a partial
illustration of what has been done toward obtaining
a true knowledge of Nature, and the subjugation of
physical agents to the use of man. But, though I
were to increase by many times the space I can de.
vote to this topic, I must necessarily leave it in a
very imperfect, and therefore unsatisfactory condition.
So vast is the body of information accumulated, that
it exceeds the capacity of any one book, and transcends the understanding of any one man.
But, though imperfect in that respect, this sketch
will be sufficient to give emphasis to the proposition
I intend to rest upon it-that a Nation which is preparing itself for sovereignty among the powers of the
earth must shake off the traditions of obsolete policy,
and stand forth the defender and protector of free
thought.
The process of attaining correct views of Nature
has been marked by a continual decline of the mysterious andl supernatural.
In the beginning of social as well as of individual
life, the appearance of things is accepted as a reality.
The blue concave of the sky seems to be a roof to the
earth, separating it from higher and serener regions
beyond. In old times they thought that it might be
frozen air ill which stars had been imbedded, and beneath which the sun and moon, made for the purpose
213 
THE ATMOSPHERE.
of giving light to man, performed their daily rising
and setting. This crystalline firmnament parted the
world of waters above from the earthly world of wa ters below. It was also the floor of heaven. The
poets exhausted their imagination in depicting the
splendors of this empyrean abode, the habitation of
celestial beings and of the immortal gods.
Not, then, without surprise does man assure him self that he can not trust his eyes; that the sky is
only an illusion; and that for distances infinite in his
appreciation there is nothing but space and stars.
The atmosphere is then a shell of gas, or rather a
mixture of gases, enveloping the earth. It does not
extend indefinitely, but its limit is reached at a height
of less than fifty miles. Though in one sense invisible, and supposed in the old times to be altogether
of a spiritual nature, it is now known to have weight
like other material things, and therefore to exert
pressure. On every square inch of the surface upon
which it rests it bears with a pressure of about fifteen
pounds.
Fifty miles it extends upward, becoming thinner
and thinner, and at that distance it ends. But to the
earth's centre there are nearly four thousand miles.
So, if we compare the earth with the atmosphere, they
bear about the same proportion to each other that a
peach does to the down that covers it. The color of
the sky is the blue tint of oxygen gas, one of the
chief ingredients of the air.
.214 
NATURE OF GASES.
Besides oxygen there are a great many other aerial
substances in the atmosphere, for it must necessarily
be the receptacle of every vaporous substance formed
on the earth. To such substances the designation of
gases has been given, because until recent times they
were considered to be of a spiritual character: the
word gas is a corruption of geist or ghost. It was
generally thought that these principles could take on
a bodily form: that they secreted themselves, like
genii or apparitions, in pits and caves, suffocating laborers who intruded on their privacy: in mines they
guarded treasures. There was abundant evidence
that they had often been seen in such solitary places
as dwarfs of grotesque appearance, with leathery ears
hanging down to their shoulders, and clad in garminents of gray cloth.
But we can not altogether rely on human testimony, no matter how copious or respectable it may be.
Men now generate gases in glass retorts, collect them
in bell jars, fasten them up in bottles, analyze them,
combine them with one another. They have no spiritual qualities; they are only matter.
Composed of such ingredients, the air presses on
the body of every man with a weight of thirty thousand pounds; yet, wonderful to be said, we do not
feel it. Its particles adhere so lightly to each other
that motions are very easily established in it, and
hence arise breezes and tempests. The swiftness and
215 
METEOROLOGY.
destructiveness of the latter may impress us with all
idea that they are of a supernatural origin; but the
poetic angel, who
"Rides in the whirlwind and directs the storm,"
is, in truth, the warmth of the sun. This warmth, ex panding the lower strata of the atmosphere, establish es upward currents, which, influenced by the rotation
of the earth on her axis, produce the trade winds that
blow eternally ill the tropical seas, or, by neutralizing
one another, give rise to the tropical calms. On sim ilar physical principles are explained land and sea
breezes: they are due to the alternate warming and
cooling of the land. The monsoons of the Indian
Ocean are traced to the heating of the continents of
Africa and Asia alternately.  Tornadoes are discs of
air whirling round a vertical or somewhat inclined
axis, which is carried forward with the storm. In
days of old the mariner offered sacrifices to 2olus
and Neptune, the gods of the winds and the sea, to
preserve his ship from foundering; but now he ob.
serves his barometer, and, relying on the published
theory of hurricanes, finds safety for himself by sailing out of their way.
MIeteorology, less advanced than many other of the
sciences, has not yet freed itself completely from the
supernatural. The rainy and the dry seasons, the
trade winds and calus of the tropics, have been suc
216 
NATURE OF SOUNDS.
cessfully referred to physical causes and clearly explained.  In temperate climates there is so much apparent irregularity, that vicissitudes of the weather
seem hardly to take place in the necessities of the
case and in an inevitable way. But in what parallel
of latitude is it that physical agencies end and supernatural ones begin?  Men have not yet clearly learned that the course of Nature will never be changed at
their entreaty; they do not yet understand that their
business is, by exercising the reason that has been
given them, to attain foreknowledge of coming events,
and arrange their affairs accordingly.
Besides the obvious and sometimes violent movements in the air, there are others of an invisible kind.
They are connected with sounds. The ancients feigned that Echo, a nymph who was the daughter of Aer
and Tellus, indulging in an unrequited love, pined
away until nothing was left but her voice, which still
may be heard in rocky solitudes and unfrequented
places, once her familiar haunts.
But sounds are only motion. Two things are needful for their perception-vibrating particles to originate, and an elastic medium to convey them. Perhaps
it may seem wonderful that the air, which is commonly that medium, though permitting the onward rush
of a sound at a rate of 1089 feet in a second, is itself
so nearly motionless that not even the motes floating
in the sunbeam are disturbed by it, nor the ascending
217 
NATURE OF SOUNDS.
smoke of a chimney that the feeblest breeze could
dissipate. That wonder may, however, cease, when
we recall what we have seen when a long cord tied
at one end is shaken up and down at the other;
waves run along it, though the cord keeps its place:
or when, in the harvest season, the wind presses on
the ripe ears, imparting to them a bowing motion, undulations pass swiftly across the field: it is only a
phantom-form that is moving. And so with the air;
a wave-like form rushes through it, though it is in reality motionless in its mass.
According as the vibrating body varies its quickness of movemnlent, the note emitted by it changes.
The number of times it must beat back and forth to
produce a given note has been ascertained by many
curious experiments. It may be as low as 32 or as
high as 24,000 in a second. Two sounds encountering one another may give rise, as one would anticipate, to an increased effect; but they may, also totally neutralize one another, producing absolute silence,
and that, no matter how loud they may have been:
they are said to interfere. The mechanism of that
interference is understood.
To produce the sounds that are necessary for intercommunication among the higher animals, and particularly the speech of man, it might be supposed that
some complicated and elaborate contrivance must
needs be resorted to. This object is, however, accom
218 
THE SEA.
plished by merely employing, on its escape firom the
system, the wasted product of respiration, the breath,
which, as it issues outward through the respiratory
passages, sets in motion a simple mechanism, and
thereby originates all the exquisite modulations of
song and all the impressive utterances of speech. Is
it not admirable, that thus out of dead and apparently useless matter results of so high an order, materially and mentally, are obtained?
Are not all the inventions of musical notation and
alphabetical writing admirable? They enable man
to reproduce sounds and their predetermined succession, thereby rekindling sentimental feeling, and conveying knowledge from one generation to another.
From the atmosphere and its phenomena we may
turn to the sea. It covers nearly three fourths of the
earth's surface, and seems to be a fitting emblem of
omnipotence and infinity. Dealing with it as we have
dealt with the air, and referring it to the dimensions
of the earth, we find that it is nothing more than a
mere film  resting in shallow cavities on the surface
of the earth. The varnish that covers a globe represents its relative size not inadequately.
The color of the sea varies very much at different
times and in different localities. It exhibits shades
of red, green, and blue, its particular tint depending
on the aspect of the sky or clouds-sometimes on the
219
i 
THE SEA.
color of its bed, sometimes onl the condition of the wa  ter itself, as affected by turbidity or by the presence
of an infinite number of small aquatic animals, certain
species of which often make it phosphorescent by
night.  Its temperature is different in different lati  tudes, thouglil a complete correspondence in this re  spect is not to be anticipated, on account of the facility
with which currents are established in it, analogous
to winds in the atmosphere.  Making due allowance
for this, it may be said that its surface temperature
varies from about 85~ in the torrid zone to the freez ing point in the Polar Sea. From the circumstance
of its containing so much saline matter, its specific
gravity is greater than that of pure water: at the
equator it is 1.028. This density necessarily varies
witlhi the rate at which superficial evaporation under
the influence of the sun is taking place. As the atmosphere is a general receptacle for gases and vapors
disengaged from the earth, so the sea is a general receptacle for soluble matter discharged into it by rivers.  Among such substances common salt greatly
predominates: it constitutes more than three fourths
of the entire solid amount.
In the same manner in which it establishes currents in the air by occasioning expansion, solar heat
likewise gives rise to currents in the sea. In this instance, however, the action is not of so purely physical a kind as in the other, for a chemical change taking
220 
OCEANIC CURRENTS.
place indirectly modifies the result. This chemical
change is an evaporation of pure water, which leaves
the sea a more concentrated salt solution than before.
Its effect is therefore in some degree to counteract the
expansion of the water by warmth; for the sun-rays
being able to penetrate several feet below the surface, correspondingly raise the temperature of that
portion, which expands and becomes lighter; but,
simultaneously, surface evaporation tends to make
the water heavier. Notwithstanding this, in a general way currents are established, answering to winds
in the air. Of these the Gulf Stream is the most interesting example.
The mechanical action of the sun-rays in occasioning currents is thus effected through the expansion
of the water, of which the warm portions ascend to
the surface, colder portions from beneath setting in
to supply their place. These currents, both hot and
cold, are of course affected by the diurnal rotation of
the earth, the action being, in principle, the same as
that occurring in the winds.  They exert so great an
influence as conveyers of heat, as to disturb the ordinary climate relations depending on the sun's position.
But not only as a liquid does water exist; it can
assume other forms, becoming solid in ice and aerial
in steam. In what does the difference of these states
consist?  Ordinary experience must at all times have
indicated that these changes depend on temperature;
221 
THE STEAM-ENGINE.
but it was not until the last century that the true re.
lation was distinctly made out. The intrinsic differ ence between water and ice is this, that water con tains about 140 degrees of heat more than ice, and
that this heat is imperceptible to the thermometer.
When, therefore, ice turns into water, the 140 degrees
of heat must be imparted, and when water turns into
ice they must be taken away. Moreover, the intrin sic difference between water and its vapor, or steam,
is this; that though they may be at the same tem perature, steam contains about 1000 degrees of heat
more than water, which large amount-enough, indeed, to make a solid body red hot-is altogether imperceptible by the thermometer. When water turns
into steam these thousand degrees of heat must be
furnished, and when steam is condensed into water
they must be taken away. This discovery was not
only of importance scientifically, it was also connected with the great invention of the last century-the
steam-engine, which has revolutionized the industry
of the world.
What has not that invention done for America?
At this moment it more than doubles our laboring
population, it makes available our vast river system,
and in the railway binds the most distant parts of
the Nation together. What would this continent
have been if we had possessed no cheaper and better
sources of power than that of animals, or of falling
222 
COMPOSITION OF WATER.
water, or of the wind?  The application of an apparently abstruse fact connected with latent heat, and
the relations of vapors and liquids to one another, has
been essentially necessary to the development of our
Western civilization.
The invention of the steam- engine was followed
by the discovery of the compound nature of water.
From the most primitive times that liquid had been
considered to be a simple undecomposable body. It
was one of the four elements of antiquity.  But soon
after the discovery of two very important gases, Oxygen and Hydrogen, a suspicion that it is composed of
them began to be entertained. The invention of the
Voltaic battery finally and decisively settled that
point, the compound nature of water being placed beyond contradiction. There can be no exaggeration
of the importance of this discovery. It may be affirmed to have been the starting-point of the wonderfuil development of modern chemistry.
The sun's heat causes evaporation to take place
from the entire surface of the sea, but to a different
degree in different latitudes.  In the torrid zone,
where the heat is greatest, the quantity thus raised
is a maximum, and from that region the amount declines north and south toward the poles. It is to be
understood that the water thus vaporized is pure, and
contains no saline matter. In consequence of this
different degree of vaporization, it necessarily follows
223 
EVAPORATION.
that the percentage of salt is greatest at the equator,
and there the specific gravity would be very much
higher were it not for the more elevated temperature.
As to the nature of evaporation, the earlier chemists
imagined that it was altogether due to atmospheric
agency, the air dissolving more moisture as its temperature is higher.
In the Patristic philosophy it was supposed that
the quantity of water in the sea was once far greater
than at present, sufficient, indeed, to overflow the
mountains, but that it had been removed and the
land dried by the agency of a wind. The quantity
of material substance on the globe has never diminishedl; it is the same nowv as it was in the beginning. Such a diminution could not take place without causing an alteration in the length of the year.
Evaporation is due not to the agency of the air, but
to heat, heat alone determining the quantity of vapor
that can exist in a given space, that qualntity being
the same whether the space is a void or already occupied by other gases. If the temperature rises, the
amount of vapor that can exist in such a space increases; if the temperature declines, it diminishes.
All this is dependent on the fact that the elastic force
of a vapor increases with its temperature, and that for
every temperature there is a density for the vapor
which can not be exceeded without liquefaction ensuing. This point is known as that of maximum
224 
CLOUDS.
density.  It was by a thorough comprehension of the
principles herein involved that Watt was led to in vent the low-pressure steam-engine, in which he ac.
complished the apparently paradoxical result of con.
densing the steam without cooling the cylinder.
Thus there is raised from the sea and from the
damp surface of the land a quantity of fresh water,
every day, answering to the supply of solar heat. It
rises in the warm current, ascending in a perfectly invisible state, retaining that condition until it comes to
regions the temperature of which is low enough to
surpass the point of maximum density and occasion
condensation. As this takes place in the upper strata, the liquid water, as it forms, is in globules of perhaps 50,-1 of an inch in size.  Their misty aggregate is
a cloud.
Clouds, while thus floating in the air, if their dimensions are not too great, so as to overshadow the
canopy, become beautiful objects as reflectors of the
sun's light, and thus borrowing tints and brilliancy
from his rays. They may either dissolve away by
coming into warmer or dryer spaces, or their minute
spherules, coalescing together, may descend to the
ground as rain. Water descending as rain is perhaps the purest offered to us by nature, yet it is far
from being chemically pure. The rain-drops dissolve
out of the air portions of its various gaseous ingredients, and become especially contaminated by dust and
P
225 
RAIN AND EFFECTS OF WATER.
organic matter disseminated through it. Pure water
can only be obtained by careful distillation in vessels
made of platinum, silver, or gold.
Rain, falling on the earth, sinks through the pores
and crevices to issue forth again in certain localities
as springs. Before the water thus emerges it has become still farther contaminated by dissolving whatever soluble materials chance to be in its way. Each
spring discharging its waters through a little branch,
these successively coalesce with one another, forming
streams larger and larger until they become a river.
In that manner a section of country is drained through
its lowlands and valleys, the river making its way
down its incline, and eventually delivering its waters
into the sea. Thus, by the heat of the sun and gravitation conjointly, the water passes through a complete cycle. From the sea it arose, to the sea it inevitably returns.
But, though water thus derived from the sea re.
turns thereto ultimately with inevitable certainty, a
portion is intercepted and delayed in its course, to
discharge very important offices in the mechlanical and
organic phenomena of the earth.
As respects its mechanical functions, space would
fail me if I were to consider them in detail, or to attempt to show how greatly, in its liquid state, water
is the agent that modifies the surface of the globe.
There falls not a drop of rain which does not disinte
226 
AURORA AND LIGHTNING.
grate and disturb portions of the soil; there flows not
a stream which does not carry solid matter into the
sea. It is for geology to contemplate the amazing ag gregate of detritus thus removed from continents, di minishing their height and filling up the bed of the
sea; to consider the effects in colder climates arising
from the freezing of water and the properties of ice
in the act of solidification-the expansion tending to
pulverize the soil effectually, as agriculturists well
know.  In such masses as glaciers and icebergs the
mechanical effects are of no little scientific interest.
The vaporous condition and changes from it are subjects which engross a large portion of meteorology;
for such events as the condensation of atmospheric
moisture into rain, snow, hail, can not occur without
enormous disturbances in the pressure and other relations of the air, giving rise to many imposing meteorological events.
But of all meteorological phenomena, undoubtedly
the most surprising are the displays of atmospheric
electricity. What can be more beautiful than the
fantastic, the ever-changing movements of the Aurora? what more imposing than the flash of lightning?
Not without reason have men in all ages looked upon
the former as glimpses of the movements of angels,
and upon the latter as being the weapon of God.
Scientific discovery has not only removed these
prodigies from the domain of the supernatural, it has
227 
ELECTRICAL DISCOVERIES.
also made the agent concerned in their production
available for the purposes of man. When Franklin,
with a boy's kite, drew down the lightning from
heaven, there was a great moral as well as physical
result. Human opinions were modified, the power
of man was increased.
It is an illustration of the excellence and fertility
of modern methods of investigation, that the phenom.
ena of attraction displayed by amber, which had been
known and neglected for two thousand years, subse quently, in one tenth of that time, led to surprising
consequences. First, it was shown that there are
many other bodies which will act in like manner;
then came the invention of the electrical machine; the
discovery of electrical repulsion and the spark; the
differences of conductibility in bodies; the two apparent species of electricity, vitreous and resinous; the
general law of attraction and repulsion; the wonderful phenomena of the Leyden vial and the electric
shock; the demonstration of the identity of lightning
and electricity; the means of protecting buildings
and ships by rods; the velocity of electric movement,
immense distances being passed through in an inappreciable time; the theory of one fluid and that of
two; the mathematical discussion of all the phenomena, first on one and then on the other of those doctrines; the invention of the torsion balance; the determination that the attractive and repulsive forces
228 
ELECTRICAL DISCOVERIES.
followed the law of the inverse squares; the conditions of distribution on conductors; the elucidation
of the phenomena of induction. At length, when dis
covery seemed to be pausing, the facts of galvanism
were announced in Italy. Up to this time it was
thought that the most certain sign of the death of an
animal was its inability to exhibit muscular contraction; but now it was shown that muscular movements could be excited in those that were dead and
even mutilated. Then quickly followed the invention of the Voltaic pile. Who could have believed
that the twitching of a frog's leg, in the experiments
of Galvani, would give rise, in a very few years, to
the establishment beyond all question of the compound nature of water, separating its constituents
from one another-would lead to the defiagration
and dissipation, in a vapor, of metals that can hardly
be melted in a furnace-would show that the solid
earth we tread upon is an oxide-yield new metals
light enough to swim upon water, and even seem to
set it on fire-produce the most brilliant of all artificial lights, rivaling, if not excelling, in its intolerable splendor the noontide sun- would occasion a
complete revolution in chemistry, compelling that science to accept new ideas and even a new nomenclature-that it would give us the power of making
magnets capable of lifting more than a ton, cast a
light on that riddle of ages, the pointing of the mar
229 
MAGNETIC DISCOVERIES.
iner's compass north and south, and explain the mu.
tual attraction or repulsion of magnetic needles-that
it would enable us to form exquisitely in metal casts
of all kinds of objects of art, and give workmen a
means of performing gilding and silvering without
risk to their health- that it would suggest to the
evil disposed the forging of bank-notes, the sophisti cating of jewelry, and be invaluable in the uttering
of false coinage-that it would carry the messages of
commerce and friendship instantaneously across continents or under oceans, and " waft a sigh from Indus
to the Pole!"
Yet that is only a part of what Galvani's experi.
ment, carried out by modern methods, has actually
done. Could there be a more brilliant instance of
their power, a brighter earnest of the future of physical philosophy?
The Venetians brought the use of the magnetic
needle, for the purposes of navigation, fropi China.
The properties of the loadstone had been known both
in Europe and Asia from very remote times. It attracts pieces of iron, imparts its own qualities permanently to tempered steel, and, if floated on water or
poised on a pivot, points north and south.
This pointing, however, in most places is not accurate; there is a certain deviation or declination.
When Columbus made his first voyage across the
Atlantic, he found that there was a position about a
230 
THE WONDERS OF SCIENCE.
hundred miles west of the Azores where the pointing
was true. To the meridian passing through this
place the designation of the line of no variation was
given. The Papal government, considering this to be
a natural boundary between the east and west hemi spheres of the earth, made it the dividing-line be tween the Spanish and Portuguese possessions.
But, though it was subsequently ascertained that
this adjudication was founded on a misconception,
and that the line of no variation is unceasingly moving, a surprising consequence followed-the circumnavigation of the earth.
Science is full of wonders. The movements of a
poised steel needle overthrew opinions that had been
endorsed by the highest human authorities. It was
no longer possible to maintain that the earth is a flat
surface covered over with the dome of the sky; it was
no longer possible to deny that it is a globe revolving
round a central sun.
A piece of rubbed amber attracts a straw: that little fact, thoroughly investigated, leads to the invention of the electric telegraph, and men communicate
with one another instantaneously across continents
and under the bottom of oceans. The sunshine coming through an angular fragment of glass produces
a play of colors, and the rainbow, in the old times
thought to be God's weapon resting against the
clouds, is explained. A straight stick dipped into
231 
THE WONDERS OF SCIENCE.
water seems as if it were broken, and it follows that
we see the sun before he has risen and afterli he has
set-that, with the exception of the one that happens
to be overhead, all the stars in the sky are imagined
to be in places where in reality they are not. A ball
of glass, if looked through, magnifies objects, a con cave fragment diminishes them: that leads to the in vention of spectacles, and the giving of sight to the
blind. Some scratches on a polished piece of metal
set in the sun-rays exhibit gaudy colors like a pea cock's feather, and it follows that light added to light
may produce total darkness. A bar of iron, cooled,
becomes too small to occupy completely a space it
had previously filled, and therefore the apparent constancy in the size of familiar objects turns out to be a
delusion: they are larger by day than they are by
night, they are smaller in winter than in summer;
and if a cloud passes over the sun all things in the
shade diminish, but they regain their size as soon as
his beams are restored. Hlow wonderful is the Stereoscope, through which, if we look at two flat pictures,
we see but one, yet that stands out with an air of solidity and with the deception of perspective!  How
wonderful the Microscope, which enables us to discern, in living specks that could creep through the
eye of a needle, elaborate and complicated organs for
respiration, for circulation, for digestion, as perfect as
those of the elephant! Hlow wonderful the Telescope,
232 
OPPOSITION TO SCIENCE.
which has revealed to us countless myriads of worlds
in the abysses of space, and has forever destroyed the
doctrine that the universe was made for man!  How
wonderful the Spectroscope, which teaches us the material composition of those distant orbs, what metals,
what gases they contain, and demonstrates to us the
manner in which systems of worlds arise!
But it is in vain to go on. I remarked, a few pages
back, that the facts of science exceed the capacity of
any one book. It is in vain to attempt to do justice
to the vast accumulation, in vain to try to set forth
the importance of that glorious monument to the intellect of man.
Why is it that in Europe the doctrines connected
with these facts, instead of being welcomed with delight, have had to fight their way?  Why is it that
those who have revealed them suffer obloquy, in some
instances have suffered death?
Why should men be angry when they are told that
the sky is not an empyrean floor, but only an optical
deception, there being nothing but space and stars beyond us; that the earth is not a flat and immovable
plate, but a swiftly rushing globe; that the rising
and setting of the sun and the moon are all a delusion; that there are people on the other side of the
earth whose feet are planted toward ours; that the
world was not made yesterday, but is myriads of cen
233 
OPPOSITION TO SCIENCE.
turies old; that the occurrence of death is not a recent event, unnumbered individuals-nay, even unnumbered races of animated forms having passed
away before the first man lived; that climate modifies plants and animals, and even men; that the planet wve inhabit, if seen from the sun, round which it revolves, would seem like a little spark; that if considered with other orbs, its companions in the universe,
it is as insignificant as a mote that dances in the sunbeam along with its companion motes; that the motions of the bodies of the solar system take place under a mathematical necessity, and that the world is
governed by law?
What is there, I ask, in such things as these to provoke the resentment of man?  Why is it that he has
visited with punishment those who first suggested
many of them, and looks with jealous suspicion on
those who receive them as true?. Why is it that in
presence of the telegraph, the steamship, the locomotive, the printing-press, photography, and all the unspeakable triumphs of science in his behalf-triumphs
the immediate results of the investigation and conclusions of science-why is it that he tries to stamp an
odium on those who devote themselves to the true
interpretation of Nature?
Is it any answer to say that, some fifteen hundred
years ago, there was a Roman general who seized imperial power from his competitors, and whose polit.
234 
PROTECTION OF SCIENCE IN AMERICA.
ical necessities were such that he had to inaugurate
this untoward course?  Because he did it, therefore
we must do it! That is the only answer that can be
made.
How different would it have been with the Papacy,
had it in its day of power, instead of resisting the advancement of human knowledge, fostered and favored
it! How different if, instead of perpetually looking
backward, it had looked foreyard, and put itself forth
as the promoter of intellectual development!
It falls to the lot of the American Republic to perform the duty that was declined by Rome. Freedom
for man, so far as his personal acts are concerned, is
already secured; but how much still remains to be
done for freedom of thought!
A country that owes its almost miraculous material prosperity to its frank acceptance of the idea that
man can comprehend Nature and subjugate her to his
use-a country that furnishes the most brilliant instance of the conquest of Nature by man, owes it to
itself and owes it to the world to stand forth the Defender and Protector of thought.
Western Europe, to which in this particular we
owe so much, labors under the dead weight of vast
ecclesiastical establishments: their influences ramify
through all the ranks of society. The tendency given
to them by the Byzantine sovereigns and by the Roman Papacy is unchangeable. They will ever con
235 
INTELLECTUAL FREEDOM.
tinue to be what they have always been-the de termined antagonists of science.
In those countries every onward step that science
makes implies a conflict. In America, where there is
no such dead weight, and where the genius of the
public institutions is so different, the progress of
thought ought to be free.
But is it so?  Is there no insidious molestation?
In a land that is netted with telegraph wires, and
possessing, in a cheap post-office system, unparalleled
means for the dissemination of thought, is it well that
a new fact or a new doctrine should be received with
a jealous eye, that looks more to an accordance with
existing interests than to absolute truth?
Intellectual freedom must be secured as completely
as the rights of property and personal liberty have
been already secured. Philosophical opinions and
scientific discoveries are entitled to be judged of by
their truth, not by their relation to existing interests.
The motion of the earth round the sun, the antiquity
of the globe, the origin of species, are doctrines which
have had to force their way, not against philosophical
opposition, but opposition of a totally different nature. And yet the interests which resisted them so
strenuously have received no damage from their establishment beyond that consequent on the discredit
of having so resisted them.
There is no literary crime greater than that of ex
236 
INTELLECTUAL FREEDOM.
citing a social and especially a theological odium
against ideas that are purely scientific, none against
whicl the disapproval of every educated man ought
to be more strongly expressed. The republic of letters owes it to its own dignity to tolerate no longer
offenses of that kind.
237 
CHAPTER IV.
ON THIE NATURAL COURSE OF NATIONAL DEVELOPMIENT.
The Organization, Development, and Governmte2nt of the Actt  ural World are shown to involve a continual tendency to conz  centration of power, and the coeftrring of a dominant control
on Intelligence.
hisprinciple applies in the case of humanz societies cluring their
political development.  A comparison is instituted between the
European method of government through the Morals, and the
American of government through the Intellect.  It is illus  trated by the history of Englandct, taken as a type of the for  mer, and by the history of the United States, taken as a type
of the latter.
It follows, from the Intellectual method adopted, that America
must be the scene of a futtre conflict of Ideas.   Their ac  tion, reaction, and modifications are allutded to, and the scien  tific tendency to unity of opinion pointed out.
And, finally, the analogies between the Italian ecclesiastical sys  tem and the American civil system are referred to.
The general object of the chapter is to show that in all durable
human associations there is a natural, an inevitable tendency
to the concentration ofpower; and that, so far from this be ing in antagonism to denmocratical institutions, it is their le gitimate and unavoidable result.
THE Book of Nature, the Visible World, is always
open to us for our instruction and guidance. From
its pages we may gather lessons respecting the social
progress of man. With silent emphasis it appeals to
our understanding, whatever may be the political 
THE COURSE OF NATURE.
opinions we entertain, whatever the religious faith
we prefer.
It is no metaphor, but a reality, that the life of human societies is typified by the life of plants and animals. Throughout the whole world of organization
the scheme of Nature is the same.
I intend in this chapter, as clearly as I can, to present that scheme of progress; to explain its intention,
its aimn-to show how human societies must comport
themselves and follow the footprints of Nature.
As we have seen, the progress of such societies is
directed in part by physical influences, and in part by
the force of Ideas, but it is always determined by law.
American history furnishes signal examples of these
truths.  It shows us that climate has produced constitutional differences between the man of the North
and the man of the South; that it has made them
think differently and act differently; that it has
brought into antagonism the enthusiastic impulsiveness of the one and the inexorable perseverance of
the other.
Does not that history also illustrate the political
force of an Idea?
And what is that Idea? That there shall exist on
this continent one Republic, great and indivisible,
whose grandeur shall eclipse the grandeur of Rome
in its brightest days-sovereign among the Powers
of the earth; so ruling in truth, in wisdom, in justice,
239 
DESTINY OF POLITICAL LIFE.
in force, that every human being, no matter how obscure or desolate he may be, may find in it a refuge
and protector; that every government, from the Atlantic Ocean eastward to the Chinese Seas, no matter
how strong it may be, shall listen with attention to
its suggestions.
To convert that vision of future greatness into a
reality, organic laws that are at the basis of personal
liberty have been, without a murmur or question, for
a season surrendered; a navy has been created, no inadequate antagonist to the navies of the world; an
army has been organized equal to that of any of the
greatest military monarchies of Europe. For four
years in succession eight hundred millions of dollars
have been spent.  Rome never would have permitted
a divided empire in Italy: the Lion will tolerate no
competitor in his desert, the Eagle will endure no
rival in the air.
The first act in the drama of American national life
is over. There are many good men who look linger.
ingly on the past, expecting its wished-for return.
The past never returns. With our high aspirations,
our enormous military and industrial power, it is for
us to turn our faces to the future. There is indeed a
manifest destiny before us.
There is a course through which we mvst go.  Let
us cast from ourselves the untrue, the unworthy belief that the will of man determines the events of this
240 
ARISTOTLE'S DISCOVERIES.
world.  National life is shaped by something far higher than that; it is shaped by a stern logic of events.
In the Dark Ages they are said to have had magical
mirrors, on which, if a man looked, he might see reflected all the future events of his life. Nature holds
up her enchanted mirror to us: in the moving images
and chlanging scenery it presents wve  may discern
what we are about to be.
WNhen Alexander the Great, the ablest man of Eu.
ropean antiquity, was engaged in the conquest of
Asia, he gave to Aristotle, who had been his instructor, a million of dollars and the services of several
thousand men, to enable him to write "A History of
Animals."  The organic world wvas ransacked, dissections were made, habits were observed, descriptions
written, drawvings executed.  The view of Aristotle,
that all animals constitute a vast but a continuous
chain-characterized by Humboldt, in our own times,
as "very grand"-fell, however, out of sight after the
deathl of Greece and the dissolution of the Roman
Empire, the hybrid population subsequently inhabiting the shores of the Mediterranean being wholly unable to rise to sulch magnificent conceptions. They
were occupied with baser thoughts.
Not until our own century have men been able to
recover and appreciate that great idea. At length it
has been thoroughly incorporated into modern physi.
Q
241 
TIIE ORGANIC SERIES.
ology. We shall see, to our surprise, that it is one
of the keys of history.
To the eye of the Physiologist all animated forms
present themselves as one continuous ch,in —the Organic Series he calls them. Commencing ill lowly
begiinnings, that are doubtfully separated from the
vegetable world, they rise by continuous, by unbroken stages to the highest- that is, to man. It
is the object of his study to ascertain the construction, the anatomy of each of the essential links in that
organic chain, and to observe the result, for the habits
and instincts of these various beings are the consequences of their conformation.  This work of prodigious labor accomplished, it is his hope to be able to
attain to a comprehension of the whole scheme-to
appreciate the creative thought that pervades it-that
has, in fact, called it into existence; a study surpassing in its sublimity even the grandeur of astronomy,
and, like it, teaching us to appreciate the thoughts
and intentions of the Sovereign Constructor of the
universe.
Though very far from its completion, this study already enables us to discern, it may be darkly, the
grand plan. In this, the twilight of the breaking
morning of human intelligence, we begin to perceive
some of the bolder features of that landscape which
hereafter, in the noontide of human reason, will be
spread out, a vast panorama, before our descendants.
242 
GRADUAL CONTROL OF INTELLECT.
Already weve trace the course of Nature, we see the
intention of this world of life.
At the commencement of the vista of organization
the forms are obscure, in structure simple, in habit
low.  Like the contrivances invented by man, they
are mere automatons.  As in a machine, if we touch
a given spring a given motion will be produced, so
these, acting unconsciously, move under the impulse
inflicted.  But, by a gradual unfolding of structure,
part developing from part and funcition emerging from
function, a higher stage is reached-to automatism
instinct is added. The innumerable tribes exemplifying this state excite our admiration by the orderly
manner ill which they accomplish their predestined
works., the bee building its comb, the spider constructing his web. But among these it is to be particularly observed that the qualities of the more lowly tribes
are still present; automatism has not been displaced
by instinct, but instinct has been, as it were, superposed, and both co-exist.  Still looking along  the
chain as we advance, once more we recognize a repetition of the same process, or, more correctly, the
gradual addition of something higher. Instinct is
unfolding itself into Intelligence. The animated being showes reasoning powers at every successive rising
link increasing in precision and perfection-the adaptation of purposed means to the accomplishment of
wished-for ends.  The Dog forms his plans; his mas
248 
GRADUAL CONTROL OF INTELLECT.
ter relates with admiration how he has watched him
proceed in carrying them out, persuading himself that
there is something approaching to wvisdom even in
the brute.  Here again, as in the former case, the new
faculty has not destroyed the old one, but intelligence
is co-existing both with instinct and with automatism.
This, then, is the sum of the matter. From a pure ly mechanical state, appropriately termed automatism,
a higher state, the Instinctive, is educed; from that,
in its turn, a still higher-the Intelligent.  And, viewing the organic series from end to end, this is the affirmation that may be made: the course of Nature is
for the development and concentration of Intellect.
I have abstained from burdening this description
with anatomical discoveries and details; they are
scarcely suitable for the present occasion. In that
respect it is perhaps enough to say that the structure
connected with these wonderful acts is the nervous
system.  In the lowliest tribes it is, as it w~ere, rudimentary, its action purely mechanical. Next, offshoots
of that rudiment appear, dedicated to special purposes
-ganglia, as anatomists call themi-intended to receive the impressions of sound and of light.  Step by
step the development, the concentration proceeds, until a most important stage is eventually reached. In
the region of the head a special mass, or rather pair
of masses, appears, having direct connections of its
owvn, by means of nerves, with all parts of the body.
244 
TIHE CONCENTRATION OF POWER.
This organ, the cephalic ganglia, soon indicates what
it is for-a control and government over all the rest.
The impressions they receive are carried to it; its volitions are sent back to them.
Here we may pause a moment to make this significant remark —every thing is tending to a concentration of power.
In man each of these typical parts is present, and
discharges the duties we have described.  There is
the spinal cord, acting automatically; there are the
same special ganglia for breathing and swallowing;
there are the same parts for hearing, sight, smell; the
same governing ganglia.  He therefore combines the
automatic and the instinctive apparatus.
But it is to be especially observed that, as we advance toward him through animals which, though inferior to him, are high in the scale of life, another
most important part appears: we recognize it as the
brain.  The moment we discern that, reasoning powers are present, the degree of intelligence becoming
more striking,ly marked as the development of the
new org,an is greater.
In the nervous system of man there are, therefore,
three essentially distinct parts-the spinal cord, the
ganglia of sense, the brain. Of the first, the action is
purely automatic; by its. aid we wvalk without bestowing a thought on our movements from place to
place; we breathe without knowing it.  The second
245 
THE CONCENTRATION OF POWER.
is the place of reception of the impressions of external
things-light, sound, odors; it is also the seat of
consciousness; it is the instinctive mechanism. The
third, the brain, is anatomically distinct.  It is the
theatre of ideas, the realm of thought, the instrument
through which the mind works.
There is, therefore, a regular progression, a definite
improvement in this ascending gradation of animal
life from the lowest to the superior; the plan never
varying, but being persistently carried out. It begins
with automatism, it advances to instinct, it reaches intelligence. In fishes a true brain first appears; it has
received an improvement in reptiles; it advances still
farther in birds. In that same order the rate of intelligence advances. Man presents the utmost perfection thus far attained.  His brain has reached a maximum organization by a continued and unbroken process of development.
If I have made myself understood in this orderly
development of the ascending scale of animals, I shall
inot be misunderstood in obscurely referring to what,
if the occasion permitted, I might dwell upon in detail.  Identically the same orderly progress is recognized in the life of individual man. The primitive
trace, as it faintly appears in the germinal membrane,
marks out the automatic apparatus; that is followed
by the instinctive, for not until the twelfth week of
life have we reached the condition perniaiineitly 1)ie
246 
INTELLECTUAL DEVELOPMENT OF THE WORLD.  247
sented by birds; a little later the brain is brought
into a complete state; and thus it appears that man
proceeds through the same predetermined succession
of forms.
But that is not all. The biography of the earth,
the life of the entire globe, corresponds to this progress of the Individual, to this orderly advance of the
animal series, as it is the glory of Geology to have
shown.  Commencing with the oldest rocks that furnish organic remains, and advancing to the most recent, wAe recognize the same continuous course of construction.
What is the object, the end of all these successive
phlases of life?  Intellectual development.
Ask the Anatomist; he points you to the career of
individual man, from the first dawn of life to its close,
and tells you that every thing is aiming at Intellect.
Ask the Physiologist; he bids you consider the
vast series of animated forms inhabiting the earth
with us.  He affirms that we are reflected in them;
and that, as their adyancement in the predetermined
direction is greater, so is the order of their intelligence
highler.
Ask the Geologist, and he will declare that those
conclusions hold good in the history of the earth, and
that there has been an orderly improvement in intellectual power among the beings who have successively inhabited it. 
248    ORGANIZATION OF NATIONAL INTELLECT.
The sciences, therefore, affirm that the great aim of
Nature is to reach controlling intellect. They proclaim that the successive stages of every individual,
from its earliest rudiment to maturity; the numberless organic beings now living with us and constituting the animal series; the orderly appearance of that
grand succession which, in the slow lapse of time, has
emerged-  all these three great lines of the manifestation of life furnish not only evidence, but also
proof of the dominion of invariable law.  The principle is to advance from automatism to instinct, from
instinct to intelligence.  Inl man himself the three distinct modes of life occur inl an epochal order, through
childhood to the most pelrfect state; and this holding
good for the individual, since it is physiologically impossible to separate him fromi the race, what holds
good for the one must hold good for the other too.
Hence man is truly the archetype of society. His development is the model of what social progress must
be.
What, then, is the conclusion inculcated by these
doctrines as regards the social progress of great communities?  It is, that all political institutions, imperceptiblly or visibly, spontaneously or purposely, should
tend to the improvement and organization of Nation.
al Intellect.
A nation may from this grand example trace out
its proper course.  The body politic, like the body 
UNIVERSAL EDUCATION.
personal, must be ruled by its intellect.  It is of no
use to affirm that the foot, or the hand, or the stolmach can guide as well as the head.  The social machine is composed of parts, each of which has its own
appropriate duty to do.
Already enlightened governments discern the truth
of this. They rest their expectations, their hopes of
society, on universal education, compulsory if need be,
to give to each one the opportunity of improvement
ip to the point that Nature has permitted for him.
But education is a term of wide import.  That demanded by modern times must represent the contemporaneous knowledge of the race.  The defect of our
present systems is this-that they look too much to
the past; they deal too much with the doubtful, too
little with the exact.
A dozen rich gentlemien may meet together and
proceed to build a railroad across the continent, or
lay a telegraphic wire under the Atlantic Ocean.
They may do whatever is possible to the olunipotence of wealth.  But, though all Americans should
constitute themselves a joint-stock company, they
never, by any votes or any resolves, could call into
existence a great soldier, a great lawgiver, a great
philosopher.  They could never create a Newton, a
Milton, an Alexander. Talent is a God-given gift.
Then, though public education is an eminent advantage, it is far from being every thing. The ad
249
I 
TIIE FOSTERING OF NATIVE TALENT.
vancement of a nation to greatness demands that not
only shall every individual be instructed, but that the
career shall be open to talent. That principle was
thoroughly understood by the great Italian statesmen
who for so many centuries controlled European affairs. They found out and fostered intellect wherever
they could.  How often did they take the cowl from
the monk, and give him in exchange a mitre! It signified nothing to them that the greatest churchman
might have come fromnt the lowest dregs of society.
Wealth, and splendors, and worldly dignity they
could amply bestow; Intellect they were obliged to
find.
For stability to be attained, a nation must submit
to be controlled by its reason; it must organize its
intellect, it must concentrate it.
There are but three powers that can organize the
world-theology, literature, science. Europe has tried
the first; her present condition shows what is the utmost it can do. China has tried the second, and has
become conceited and exclusive. It has been truly
affirmed that for these purposes science has this advantage over literature, that it admits of universal
communion.
Let us not, however, fall into the delusion of expecting what will never happen from such social organization; the very term itself implies, on the one
hand, superiority; on the other, subordination. Do
250 
SOCIAL SUBORIDINATION.
what we may, no organization, no education will ever
make all men alike.  By far the most numerous portion of our race must devote itself to labor, scarcely
ever learning any thing except what concerns its daily
toil: whatever improvement it attains to is by mere
imitation. It follows its hereditary instincts, having
no idea of progress, none of development. Governed
1)y external influences and by its own appetites, it can
neither combine nor generalize. Its movements altogethler depend on the unrecognized influence of external agents.  That vast mass, like a cloud, drifts along
to its destiny in an invisible wind.
In our nation there has been a period of material
prosperity, of which I think we shall all agree in saying that it has had no parallel in the world.  Wealth,
honorably acquired, has poured in upon us until we
have become blinded to all things else. Here and
there a thoughtful man may be found who has seen
with misgivings that it is not spiritual, but physical
aspirations that have heretofore predominated among
us. Howv true it is that, for a nation to be great, it
must aim at something above its animal nature!
We are in the act of transition from the animal to
the intellectual.  War, civil war, with its dread punishments, is not without its uses.  In no other school
than that of war can society learn subordination, in
no other can it be made to appreciate order. It may
be true, as has been affirmed, that men secretly love
251 
GROWTH AND DIFFERENTIATION.
to obey those whlom they feel to be their superiors
intellectually. In military life they learn to practice
that obedience openly.
I turn firom the hideous contemplation of a disor.
ganization of the Republic, each state, and county, and
town setting up for itself, and the continent swarming
with the maggots bred from the dead body politic.  I
turn from that to a future I see ill prospect-an impe rial race organizing its intellect, concentrating it, and
voluntarily submitting to be controlled by its reason;
a race despising that lowv grade of life into which its
enemies have tauntingly said that it has descended,
and that, like certain base animals, it may be spontaneously dissevered into a multitude of parts, each being as good as any of the rest, and capable of the same
obscene separations again.
In thus asserting that in all human communities, as
their life advances, there must be a continual tenldency to a concentration of power and a development of
intellect, I am presenting the conclusions of observers
of Nature.
Physiologists say that  qrow,t is an increase in the
size of a structure of any kind, no variation occurring
in the character of the fabric or in the functions it
discharges; but diffeentiation is an increase involving modification of fabric and assumption of new
functions.
The lowest plants simply grow; they increase by
252 
DIFFERENTIATION.
the addition of units or parts of the same kind and
having the same office.  They have no mutual dependence except that consequent on their mere mechanical union. They may be cut to pieces, and, as
we have just observed, each portion is as perfect, as
good as the rest. Each individually, and all conjointly, are very lovw.
But in the highest plants there is somiething more.
At one point roots are put forth, at another leaves, at
another flowers.  The duty of the root is to hold the
plant in the ground, and furnish it with water and
some salts; that of the leaves, to procure nutriment
firom the air; that of the flowers, to reproduce plants
of the same kind.  These various, these di       ~ organs have been evolved or differentiated for those
purposes.
The same remark applies to animals.  In the lowest, breathing, digestion, and all the various other
functions needful for life are confusedly blended together, and obscurely discharged by the self-same
part. In the highest, special organs, the lungs, the
stomach, etc., have been differentiated from the growimg mass for these special functions.
Now we must particularly remallrk the manner in
which all this is done.  If, for a new purpose, a new
organ is wanted, Nature never fashions it in secret or
apart, finishing her work by attaching the new product to the structure intended to be improved.  Men,
253 
POLITICAL DIFFERENTIATION.
w\hen they design to improve a house, bring the nec essary materials from elsewhere, and make their ad dition by attaching it. Not so with Nature. She
evolves from what is already pre- existing - there
comes an outshoot, not an addition.  Thus, in the illustration we have referred to, she makes flowers from
parts that, had the differentiation been otherwise,
might have been leaves.
It is, as I have said, no metaphor, but a reality, that
huiman societies are typified by plants and animals.
Both, ill their lowest grades, are aggregates increasing
by the addition of parts, each of which is similar, and
acts similarly to all its fellows.  In a tribe of savages
each man does every thing for himself.  By degrees
special pursuits pass into the hands of particular individuals.  The process goes oin until three distinct
social divisions are established-a laboring class, a
trading or transferring class, an intellectual class.
Political differentiation has taken place...
Society thus passes through a definite, an orderly
succession of changes.  It grows at first by the addition of units; then, under internal and external influences, it begins to differentiate.
In individual man how strikingly, also, is the samte
thing perceived!  It is not a mere growth or devel.
opment alone that occurs; but when that process has
gone on to a certain extent, a new condition of things
abruptly takes place, a difference in structure, a dif
254 
DIFFERENTIATION AND DEVELOPMENT.
ference in function suddenly arising - suddenly, yet,
as weve find when we examine the matter critically, in
a necessary and inevitable way; for the new things
have issued forth from the old by an insensib)le shad ing, so that we can not tell at what time the one end ed or when the other began. In spite of the rapidity
with which the change may have taken place, we still
discern consecutive points bearing a determinate relation to one another.  Development thus gives rise to
differentiation: they do not stand in an attitude of
antagonism.
It is immaterial whether we consider the entire human body in the aggregate, or limit ourselves to the
investigation of its constituent parts;  whether we
describe man existing as a water-breathing, and then
abruptly at his first respiration as an air-breathing
animal; or whether, descending to minor details, we
investigate the structure of his digestive, circulating,
absorbing or other parts, and the duties they discharge. As his development goes on, differentiation
in a necessary manner, at determinate epochs, takes
place; and thus he proceeds through a multitude of
forms in an orderly succession, each form issuing fronm
the preceding one in an unavoidable way.  Nor is
there any possibility that a single step in the whole
progress can be omitted. What better proof can we
have of the determinate character of this advance
than the fact that it is repeated, with all its peculiar
255 
LAW OF VON BAR.
ities of epochs and phases, by every individual?  The
complete and affiliated series of embryonic forms presented in the early period of the life of man is only
an exemplification that he is held fast in the grasp of
those laws which control all other animals.
So, in communities, development takes place from
point to point; it issues in their numerical increase,
their geographical spread, their growth. For a while,
froom year to year, it may offer no point of perceptible
change, but at last differentiation occurs-not so abruptly as in the instance of the individual, for the
general scale of time has been enlarged.  It makes itself manifest by a cessation of the old and an exhibition of the new-by an abandonment of former habits
of action, by an appearance of newl modes of thought.
The society that has passed through such an epoch
looks;back on its history with surprise, half wondering whether it can be really true that it once concerned itself in actions now appearing so unsuitable and
unworthy-that it once was sincerely engaged with
mental conceptions now seeming to be so clearly fallacious.
The law of development, known among physiologists as that of Von Bar, and of the truth of which
there is now abundant proof, is to the effect that "the
heterogeneous arises fromnt the homogeneous by a grad.
ual process of change." Thus, from the starting-point
of all living forlms-a simple cell-there are unfolded
256 
DIFFERENTIATION OF CO0[MUNITIES.
in a proper order successive parts devoted to special
duties, and from these, in their turn, in like manner
secondary and tertiary subdivisions arise, the duty
discharged ill the first instance by the aggregate be ing nowv accomplished by the special portions, and
therefore in a more complete and perfect way.
What thus takes place ill the individual also takes
place ill the nation.  We deceive ourselves whlen we
suppose that the process of human affairs is ever disturbed by the intrusion of things that are intrinsically new.  Every event, no matter how abruptly it may
occur, is, if wve carefully consider it, indissolubly affiliated with events that have gone before, and draws in
its train others that of necessity followv. In this, as in
the former instance, we never encounter the appearance of incongruous things, but all proceeds in an orderly way.  Our daily experience assures us that for
the success of any human undertaking opportunity is
essential. Without that the greatest genius and the
greatest exertions are spent in vain. The physiological law  of Von Bar holds as good in race advancemenit as it does in individual. Its action is expressed
in both instances in a similar manner.
It is through the general operation of this law that
communities emerge from the lowest grades of social
life-from that barbarous condition in which all individuals are occupied in all pursuits, and especially excelling in none; in which the avocations of the farm                         R
257 
'TilE INDIVIDUAL AND SOCIETY.
er, the huntsman, the mechanic, are all equally discharged by each individual. It is through the operation of this law that, as society is advancing in its
course from that confused condition ill which all
things were blended together, that special duties and
special avocations begin to emerge; through it the
process of partition and separation, as expressed in
the different trades and occupations, is continued;
through it the skilled labor of civilized communities
results. In thus applying a physiological law holding good for the individual to this our social state,
wse indulge in no fictitious hypothesis.  Society is
only an aggregate of individuals; whatever affects,
whatever regulates each of them, must affect and regulate it also. Its actions are the sum of their actions.
By the light thrown from the history of the individual on that of society, we ascertain the true interpretation of the successive stages in the course of the
latter, and determine the value of each of its constituent parts; that, equally in the one as in the other,
the first moments are devoted to the necessities of aninial existence, and only by degrees does the intellectual begin to emerge. The first phases of life, no matter what may be the scale on which we consider it,
individual or social, are essentially vegetative, the operation being, as the advance goes on, to disentangle
the intellectual from the clogs that are attached to it,
and at last to accomplish its isolation. As by such
258 
PERSONS AND PARTICLES.
partitions and separations it increases in purity, it
also increases in power, until, in the end, it becomes
the authoritative, the governing, and regulating prin ciple, subjecting all other things to its dominion.
We may therefore transfer firom the individual to
society all those phenomena of equilibrium and movement observed by Physiologists. In the same manner that we see in the individual organic particles ill
all stages of activity and decline, some subserving
one, some another duty, so in society we distinguish
between the uses and conditions of different persons.
It is to be remembered that Persons are the equivalent of Particles. Notwithstanding this diversity of
their functions, all, without any exception, are under
the necessity of submitting to the same laws, and
therefore run through similar cycles of motion, having
a period at whichl they make their appearance as organic elements, a period at which they enter upon
their destined duty, a period of maximum development and force, one also of decline. And as in the
individual we find particles of different constitutions
arranged in different places for the proper performance of their functions, so the social grades and several occupations of men answer thereto.  Seen in this
light, it is plain that all have a duty to discharge-a
duty not alone to themselves, but to the aggregate of
which they form a part, and to the well-being of
which they are essential. All, therefore, in one sense,
i 259 
PERFORMANCE OF SPECIAL DUTIES.
are equal, for each has an indispensable duty allotted,
each being equally useful, equally worthy. The intellectual relations of society can not be maintained
save by the aid of its organic relations, any more than
the intellectual functions of the individual can be successfully accomplished except by the co-operation of
the functions of organic life. How is it possible that
the brain, in one sense the most noble portion of the
human economy, should discharge its duty aright, or
even discharge it at all, unless the subordinate organs
of circulation, respiration, digestion, carry forward at
a determinate rate their more humble yet necessary
duties?
Such considerations teach us how visionary are the
expectations of those who hope to produce, either by
legal enactments or the artificial operation of education, an equality among the constituent parts of the
social organism. In the body of man all is not for
intellection, all is not for nutrition or assimilationthere is a diversity of duties, which, for perfection,
must be harmoniously blended. And so in society,
which is a vast individual-a great living, feeling,
thinking mass-if its development is to go on to the
utmost perfection, there must be a similar subordination of office implying a subordination of parts.
Some, and by far the larger portion, must devote
themselves to duties of a wholly material nature; in
this representing those particles which, in the Individ
260 
PUBLIC AND PRIVATE RELATIONS.          261
ual, discharge the humbler offices of organic life, and
provide for the nutrition and development of the
body; some, on the other hand, and these relatively
but few in number, are more immediately connected
with the higher functions-the operations of intellect.
Of these it is the especial, the unavoidable duty to
exercise a direct influence over all.  In China, where
this principle is recognized in practical politics, they
deride Occidental democracy, and consider us as hardly emerged from a barbarous state, who commit governing power to those who are altogether animalized,
and can neither read nor write, instead of making intellectual power a measure of political control, as is
the case in their system of statesmanship, which, on
a comparatively small geographical surface, governs
dense masses of men.
A closer examination of the relations of the constituent particles of the body indicates to us that they
are capable of a twofold division, each having connections of an interior kind, which, as it were, concern it.
self alone, and also others of an exterior kind, which
it maintains with the whole organism.  In a metaphorical manner we may thus say that it has private
and public engagements; and, considering the matter
critically, wve can not fail to detect that the former are
essentially of a lower kind: they are indeed subordinate to the latter, for the sake of which they in reality exist. Transferring our thoughts in this particular 
-PUBLIC AND PIRIVATE RELATIONS.
from the individual body to the body politic, we see
how great a mistake we commonly make in our appreciation of such relations. In the individual how
plausibly we magnify the importance of private life,
and diminish the value of the public connection! Yet
it is for the latter, not for the former, that a person is
brought into existence. He will have done well if,
in those general relations, he has rightly discharged
his duty; nor can any excellence in the private conduct compensate for any deficiency in the public.
Too often we invert the sentiment on the value of
which I am here insisting, and gratify a vain selfishness by concluding that we have been brought into
the world each for the sake of himself; that our continuance here is for our own individual benefit; and
all our hopes and aspirations for the future are restricted to ourselves, others participating therein only
in an incidental and indirect way. From this narrow
view we may be justly startled by a right sense of
our obligations to the body of which we constitute a
part, and, by a philosophical examination of our true
position, learn how great a deception we are practicing
upon ourselves; that we have not been introduced
here and do not continue here for our own personal
sake, but that we may share in the development and
accomplishment of a result of a far higher order. In
this the part we have to play may be, in one sense,
insignificant and transient, but, in a truer sense, it is
important and enduring.
262 
THE REPUBLIC.                 263
We may now apply the general principles indicated
on the preceding pages to the special case of America.
One of the greatest of the Greek philosophers,
Plato, held that in a political sense men are to be
considered, not as men, but as elements of the state;
thus carrying to its extreme consequence the idea of
that public relation just referred to.  In America, the
principle of individual independence being thorough.
ly admitted, that independence can only be secured
by political organization; and hence, the Platonic idea
being accepted, individuals must be considered as existing for the state.  To it they owe whatever they
have, even life.
The fabric of the Republic arose from the spontaneous coalescence of such elements. The first iamigrants necessarily maintained purely democratic relations, with only such subordination as their existing
needs required. When, in the course of time, colony
began to establish connections with colony, the principle of equality was never for a moment forgotten.
From the union of individuals towns arose; firom the
union of towns, states; from the union of states, the
Republic. This coalescence of individuals was and is
still greatly facilitated by a certain sameness of habits among all classes, arising from their issuing from
a common origin. Temporary differences of wealth
are of little moment: the poor of to-day may be the
rich of to-morrow. 
TIIE REPUBLIC.
The modes of life of various classes being more
similar than in Europe, individuals fall more readily
into place, and more easily assume a fitting associa tion with one another. From this arises that senti ment of equality which curbs and checks the senti ment of individual independence.
The Republic may therefore be regarded as a re strained association of free individuals, voluntarily
surrendering a part of their personal independence
for the common good, yet all the time conscious and
jealous of that surrender. They have bartered a por tion of their liberty for security. Labor is its essen tial basis.  In America, every one, even though he
may be rich, must have some ostensible occupation.
A healthy public sentiment makes it disreputable to
be idle.
Liberty, therefore, is always, if such a paradox may
be excused, liberty under restraint. It appertains not
to the position an individual occupies, it is inherent
in humanity.
Elsewhere nations are governed too much; here no
restraint is admissible beyond that necessary for the
well-being and life of the body politic.  But in that
maxim much is embraced. Coercion, more energetic
and nmore formidable than that ever felt in the most
absolute monarchies, becomes justifiable, if necessary
to preserve the national life. The individual must not
for an instant stand in the way of the public good.
264 
CONSTRUCTIVE DEMOCRACY.
There are singular advantages arising from a personal acknowledgment of this force of public authority, and of the inevitable direction its action will take.
In foreign countries there is no definitely visible path
in which it is clear that the nation will advance; here
every one sees plainly what the course of progress
must inevitably be. The popular phrase, "manifest
destiny," marks out this recognition. There hence
arises a concert of action, which adds prodigiously to
the public power.  The momentum of the whole population is felt in a definite direction.
Placed in such circumstances, a democracy will exhibit an instinct of cohesion in all its parts. Herein
is the explanation of the remark so often made by
observing statesmen respecting the essential difference
between democracies in Europe and America-that
the former are destructive, the latter constructive.
This constructiveness is strikingly seen in newv-settled American states. Where, but a short time before, there was an untrodden wilderness, population began to converge-a village formed.  In an incredibly
short time, organization of the infant community might
be observed; its outward signs, the school-house, the
town-hall, the church, the newspaper. These differentiations from the growing body spontaneously issued from the people; they required no stimulus from
above.  The village rapidly grew into a town.  All
round it, in precisely like manner, other towns were
265 
SENSITIVENESS OF A DEMOCRACY.
emerging.  The instinct of cohesion I have referred to
combined them together; an organized territory, a
state, is the result. Constructive affinity still continuLes to be manifested, and the new state merges into
and becomes an acknowledged part of the Republic.
It loses forever, if indeed it ever possessed, the attribute of independent sovereignty.
Throughout this process of events self-government
is perpetually manifest. Each individual bears a conscious share in each of the stages of procedure and in
the final result.  Hence arises a property of such a
democracy unfortunately not understood in Europe.
In monarchical countries war and peace are easily
made. The people are rarely penetrated by a just
appreciation of the points in dispute. The conflicting
authorities, sovereigns or royal houses, compose their
quarrel; the community acquiesces.
Not so in a self-conscious democracy.  A  public
injury, perpetrated by a foreign power, is at once
accepted by each individual as his personal affair.
Whien the English government conceded belligerent
rights to the insurgent states, there was not an American who did not personally appropriate the offense.
Such a sensitiveness is often imputed, by those who
have not considered the peculiarities of democratic
life, to the youth of the nation or to other transitory
causes. It arises, however, firom a very different, and,
it may be added, a far more dangerous condition. A
266 
CENTRALIZATION AND SELF-GOVERNMENT.
course that might be pursued with impunity by one
royal house toward another, can not wisely be pur sued toward a self-conscious democracy; for it has a
retentive memory, and is, in virtue of its very consti tution, unforgiving.
The instinct of self-government, so characteristic of
the American democracy, thus leads to the formation
of villages, towns, counties, territories, states -nay,
even to the expansion of the Republic itself.  So far
from centralization and self-government standing in
opposition to each other, as some authors have sulpposed, the former necessarily issues out of the latter.
Self-government, instead of conveying the idea of absolute fireedom, conveys, in reality, the idea of restraint-restraint spontaneously imposed. If, as must
be the case in self-conscious communities, that restraint is organized by those wvho are intending to
submit to its rule, centralization is the necessary result.
Moreover, the instinct of self-government implies
an instinct for enlightenment- an insatiable thirst
for information. This is recognized in all directions
in America. It satisfies itself by the creation of
great educational establishments, and descends even
to amusing details. The Yankee converses in questions.
Every one is penetrated with the conviction that
for social advancement to pursue the right direction,
2 6 i' 
268   EUROPEAN GOVERNMENT THROUGH MORALS.
and to be pressed forward at the highest speed, it
must be controlled by intelligence. Hence the public prosperity is considered to depend on education.
There can be no doubt that this is a very high and
noble conception. It establishes an intrinsic difference between the people of Europe and the people of
America.
In Europe the attempt has been made to govern
communities through their morals alone. The present state of that continent, at the close of so many
centuries, shows how great the failure has been. In
America, on the contrary, the attempt is to govern
through intelligence. It will succeed.
From the American principle, it follows that whoever seeks the improvement of his fellow-men, the ennobling of the community among whomi he lives, or
the true glory of the nation, can best accomplish his
purpose by spreading forth the light of knowledge,
and strengthening and developing the public understanding.
For more than a thousand years the moral system
has been tried in Europe. Its agent, the ecclesiastic,
was animated by intentions that were good, by perseverance unwearied, by a vigorous energy. The failure is attributable, not to shortcomings in him, but to
intrinsic defects in his method; though on that continent, in a very imperfect manner, in later times the
other method has spontaneously and with much re. 
AMIERICAN GOVERNMENT THROUGH INTELLECT. 269
sistance made itself felt; a wonderful result is begin.
ning to be apparent. The apprehension entertained
by many good men in former times, that if the mind
be instructed the morals may be injured, has proved
to be unfounded. Men are better in proportion as
they are wviser. In whatever direction we look, we
see the improvement. The physical man is more
powerful, the intellectual man more perfect, the moral
man more pure. For the poor, in the midst of all this
social activity, this business energy, charity is none
the less overflowving; for him wvho wishes to improve
his life there is certain to be encouragement.
Whoever in America desires to better his fellowmen must act by influencing their intellect.  If he
wishes to see no idle man and no poor man in the
land, he must take care that there shall be no igno.
rant man. Ignorance is not, as in the old times they
used to say, the mother of devotion; she is the mnother of superstition and misery.
If wve wish to know how we may best clear from
this continent the superabundant forests that encumber it-how we may best lay the iron rail and put
the locomotive upon it- how we may most profitably dig the abounding metals from their veinshowv we may instantaneously communicate with our
most distant towns-how we may cover the ocean
with our ships-how we may produce a sober, industrious, healthy, moral population, we shall find our 
SOCIAL POSITION OF WOMEN.
answer in providing unliversal instruction. That spon taneously provides occupation.  The morality of a na tion is the aggregate of the morality of individuals.
A lazy man is necessarily a bad man; an idle is nec essarily a demoralized population.
In such provisions for the rising generations there
is a special interest which ought never to be over looked. On many occasions social requirements press
with melancholy severity on the female sex.  Wom en can not engage in the rough conflicts of life. Few
are the occupations to which they can with propriety
turn, and even in those few, to the disgrace of men
be it said, they are jostled, and crushed, and crowded
out. Yet often the friendless woman has duties to
perform for herself and those dependent on her of the
highest kind.  Society inexorably binds her with all
its rules and usages, yet society too often yields her
but a feeble help.  No more is wanted than freedom
for her hands, no more than opportunity, yet how often is that freedom, that opportunity denied! Howv
many of the fearful evils of great cities may be directly traced to the compulsory, the profitless inaction of
young women!
I repeat again the great truth, that the only method of ameliorating the condition of men is by acting
on their intelligence; even their morals must be
guided by their understanding. This principle has
been carried into practical effect by a race whom we
270 
CHINESE MODE OF GOVERNMENT.
affect to despise. Ages ago, in China, they had passed through the various experiments which the Western nations are nlow so sedulously trying; and ages
ago they came to the conclusion that government, to
be effectual, satisfactory, permanent, must operate
through the public intelligence. In that they follow
nature.  In our supercilious conceit we laugh at the
Chinese; his bodily formation and grotesque manners
are topics of merriment to us.  We say he opens his
eyes vertically, like a pair of folding doors, our own
opening horizontally, as properly fixed windows ought
to do. We exult in the glory of a luxuriant beard
spread broadly over the breast, and ridicule him who,
having none, ties up his long hair into a tail, and lets
it hang down his back.  But the wisdom of a man
does not depend on these decorations being either in
front or behind.  If we, knowing very imperfectly the
ideas of the old man of the Mongols, irreverently set
him down as a superannuated dotard, he, in an equally imperfect way, learning of our proceedings in statecraft and our anarchy of creeds, regards us as "outside barbarians," and, judging from the rude violence
with which we seek to make him recognize our acquaintance, as "red-headed devils."
But this supremely solemn old man has done something that we can not help seeing, no matter in what
way we open our eyes. He has found out the means
by which more than three hundred millions of men
271 
CHINESE MODE OF GOVERNMENT.
-more than ten times the population of the United
States-more than one third of the human race, have
been for ages kept in happiness, prosperity, and peace.
Long ago he had accomplished the thing which we,
on a smaller scale, are attempting.  If we could surprise him into a moment's relaxation from the amenities of exquisite courteousness and from the artifices
of infinite dissimulation-if we could coax from him
his secret, this is what he would say: "Educate every body.   In every child that is born, the state,
as well as the parent, has a right.  I compel all to
go to school. I push forward the brightest of the
children into academies, and from thence the boys
who are distinguished above their fellow-boys by superior endowments I send to the college. From the
new conflict of mind that there ensues I select the victors, and, transplanting them to active life, intrust to
them the superintendence of districts. Those who
have displayed capacity on that scale I promote to
the government of provinces.  They who approve
themselves in the ordeal of that greater trial are relied upon as the counselors and guides of the Iniperial authority at last. In China our ancestors organized the National Intellect; we honor learning above
all other things. The road to greatness is open to
him who has capacity to walk in it.  Our educated
are not our dangerous classes, but firm supporters of
the state; and the result is, that we are the most nu
272 
THE SCHOOL, THE PULPIT, TIIE PlRESS.
imerous, in our internal affairs the most prosperous
and the most contented nation of the earth."
That is the imannier in wvhich the Asiatics have resolved the great problem of statesmanship.  The details might not answer to our Western life, but their
example and its success may well afford us a topic of
profound meditation.
It is not necessary here to discuss formally the
question lwhether social advancement is best secured
thlrouglh moral or intellectual action.  In America the
latter method has been adopted; and accepting that
in contradistinction to the former, whichl is followed
in Europe, I may briefly allude to certain points connected with the practical manner in vwh-ich it is carried into effect.
There are three organs of public instruction- the
school, the pulpit, the press.
As respects schools, the primary condition for their
efficiency is a supply of well-trained and competent
teachers.  In former times the education of youth was
too often surrendered to persons M-lho had become superanniuated in other pursuits, or had failed in them,
or had been left in destitute circumstances.  But little heed was given by- parents or the public to the
quality of the information imparted in these concerns.
There was a vague notion, vwhich, as we shall see, still
unhappily prevails as regards the higher establishments of education, that the training of the mind is
S
273 
PRINCIPLE OF EDUCATION.
of more importance than the nature of the information
imparted to it.
Normal schools for the preparation of teachers must
necessarily be an essential part of any wvell ordered
public school system.  In these, young persons of
both sexes may be prepared for assuming the duties
of teaching.  The rule under which they should not
only be taught, but likewise subsequently teach-the
rule that should be made to apply in every establishment, from the primary school to the university, is
this-Education should represent the existing state
of knowledge.
But in America this golden rule is disregarded, especially in the case of the higher establishments.
MWhat is termed classical learning arrogates to itself
a space that:excludes much more important things.
It finds means to appropriate, practically, all collegiate
honlors. This evil has arisen fiom the circumstance
that our system was imported firom England.  It is a
remnant of the tone of thou,ght of that country in the
sixteenth century; meritorious enough and justifiable
enough in that day, but obsolete in this.  The vague
impression to which I have above referred, that such
pursuits impart a training to the mind, has long sustained this inappropriate course. It also finds an excuse in its alleged power of communicating the wisdom of past ages.  The grand depositories of human
knowledge are not the ancient, but the modern
274 
CLASSICAL  INSTIRUCTION. 
tongues.  Few, if any, are the facts worth knowing
that are to be exclusively obtained by a knowledge
of Latin and Greek; and as to mental discipline, it
might reasonably be inquired how much a youth will
secure by translating daily a few good sentences of
Latin and Greek into bad and broken English. So
far as a preparation is required for the subsequent
strug,gles and conflicts of life-for discerning the intentions and meeting the rivalries of competitors-for
skill to design movements and carry them out with
success-for cultivating a clearness of perception into
the character and motives of others, and for imparting a decision to our own actions-so far as these
things are concerned, an ingenious man would have
no difficulty in maintaining the amusing affirmation
that more might be gained from a mastery of the
game of chess than by translating all the Greek and
Latin authors in the world.
The remarks I am thus making respecting the imperfections of general education apply, I think, very
forcibly to the education of the clergy. The school,
the pulpit, the press, being the three organs of public
instruction, a right preparation of the clergy for their
duty is of as much moment as a right preparation
of teachers and journalists.
In the education of the American clergyman the
classical element very largely predominates. Indeed,
it may with truth be affirmed that it is to no incon
275 
EDUCATION OF THE CLERGY.
siderable degree for the sake of securing such a result
that that element is so carefully fostered in the colleges, fiom which it would otherwise have long ago
been eliminated, or, at all events, greatly reduced in
prominence.  The strength of this wish is manifested
by the munificent endowments with which  many
pious and patriotic men have sustained classical
professorships. Perhaps, however, they do not sufficiently refiRect that the position and requirements of
the clergy have of late years very much changed.
Preaching must answer to the mode of thinking of
the congregations.  But now literary authority has
to a very great degree lost its force. Elucidations of
Scripture and the defense of doctrine, in modern times,
require modern modes of treatment.
But, moreover, in one important respect is the education of the clergy defective. Unhappily, and, it may
be added, unnecessarily, there has arisen, as was related in the last chapter, an apparent antagonism between Theology and Science. Tradition has been
made to confront Discovery.  Now, the discussion
and correct appreciation of any new scientific fact requires a special training, a special stock of knowledge. That training, that knowledge, are not to be
had in theological seminaries. The clergyman is thus
constrained to view with jealous distrust the rapid
advancement of practical knowledge. In the case of
any new fact, his inquiry necessarily is, not whether it
276 1 
EDUCATION OF TIlE CLERGY.
is absolutely true, but whether it is in accordance with
conceptions he considers established. The result of
this condition of things is, that many of the most important, the most powerful and exact branches of human knowledge, have been forced into a position they
never would have voluntarily assumed, and have been
compelled to put themselves on their defense- Astronomy, in the case of the globular form of the
earth, and its position as a subordinate planet; Geology, as respects its vast antiquity; Zoology, on the
problem of the origin of species; Chemistry, on the
unchangeability of matter and the indestructibility of
force.
In thus criticising education in the higher American establishments, I present views that have forced
themselves on my attention in an experience of thirty
years, and on a very extensive scale. Not unfrequently I have superintended the instruction, professional
or otherwise, of nearly four hundred young men in
the course of a single year, and have had unusual opportunities of observing their subsequent course of
life.
The education of the clergy, I think, is not equal
to that of physicians or lawyers. The provisions are
sufficient, and the time is sufficient, but the direction
is faulty.  In the study of medicine every thing is
done to impart to the pupil a knowledge of the present state of the subjects or sciences with which he is
277 
EDUCATION OF THE CLERGY.
concerned. The profession watches with a jealous
eye its colleges, exposing without hesitation any
shortcomings it detects. It will not be satisfied with
erudition, it insists on knowledge.
But such modernized instruction is actually less
necessary in the life of a physician than it is in the
life of a clergyman. The former pursues his daily
course in an unobtrusive way; the latter is compelled
by his position to publicity. The congregations whom
he must meet each Sabbath day, and, indeed, perhaps
more frequently, are often too prone to substitute the
right of criticism for a sentiment of simple devotion.
Very few among them can appreciate the monotonous,
the wearing strain of compulsory mental labor-labor
that at a given hour must with punctuality be performed. On topics that have been thought about,
and written about, and preached about for nearly
twenty centuries, they are importunately and unreasonably demanding something new.
In that ordeal the clergyman spends his existence.
To maintain the respect that is his due, there are but
two things on which he can rely-purity of life and
knowledge. Men unconsciously submit to the guidance of what they discern to be superior intelligence.
Here comes into disastrous operation the defective
organization of the theological seminaries. Content
with such a knowledge of nature as might have answvered a century ago, the imposing and ever-increas
278 
EDUCATION OF THE CLERGY.
ing body of modern science they decline. And yet it
is that science and its practical applications which are
now guiding the destinies of civilization.
In my History of the Intellectual Development of
Europe I have had occasion to consider the consequences of the Reformation, and may perhaps be excused the following quotation: "America, in vwhich,
of all countries, the Reformation at the present moment has farthest advanced, should offer to thoughtful men much encouragement. Its cities are filled
with churches built by voluntary gifts; its clergy
are voluntarily sustained, and are in all directions
engaged in enterprises of piety, education, mercy.
What a difference between their private life and that
of ecclesiastics before the Reformation! Not, as in
the old times, does the layman look upon them as the
cormorants and curse of society. They are his faithful advisers, his honored friends, under whose suggestion and supervision are instituted educational establishments, colleges, hospitals, whatever can be of benefit to men in this life, or secure for them happiness
in the life to come."
No one can study the progress of modern civilization without being continually reminded of the great,
it might be said, the mortal mistake committed by
the Roman Church. Had it put itself forth as the
promoter and protector of science, it would at this
day have exerted an unquestioned dominion all over
279 
,MONITION F1RO5 TIIE ROMIAN CIIURCII.
Europe.  Instead of being the stumbling-block, it
would have been the animating agent of human advancement. It shut the Bible only to have it opened
forcibly by the Reformation; it shut the book of Nature, but has found it impossible to keep it closed.
How different the result, had it abandoned the obsolete absurdities of Patristicism, and become imbued
with the spirit of true Philosophy-had it lifted itself to a comprehension of the awful magnificence of
the heavens above and the glories of the earth beneath-had it appreciated the immeasurable vastness
of the universe, its infinite multitude of worlds, its inconceivable past duration!  how different, if in place
of forever looking backward, it had only looked forward-bowing itself down in a world of life and light,
instead of worshiping, in the charnel-house of antiquity, the skeletons of twenty centuries!  Hlow different,
had it hailed with transport the discoveries and inventions of human genius, instead of scowling upon
them with a malignant and baleful eye! How different, had it canonized the great men who have been
the interpreters of Nature, instead of anathematizing
them as Atheists!
In our national development it is for the American
clergy to shun that great, that fatal mistake. It is
for them to remember that the Reformation remains
only half completed, until to the free reading of the
Book of God there is added the free reading of the
280 
THE PRESS.
Book of Nature. It is for them to remember that
there are two volumes of Revelationsthe Word and
the Works; and that it is the indefeasible right of
every man to study and interpret them both, according to the light given him, without molestation or
punishment.
Since the invention of printing, the power of the
pulpit has been subordinated to the powver of the
press, which is continually gathering force from the
increasing diffusion of education. In America the
newspaper has become a necessary of life. It makes
its successful appearance in villages of which the
population would be considered, in other countries,
inadequate for its support. Cheap reading is to be
had every where. The consequence is, that all sides
of a question are apt to be read.  It is affirmed that
the consumption of paper in America, for printing
and writing, is more than that of England and France
put together.
By these various agencies rays of enlightenment
pervade the land; the general character of the people
undergoing a continual improvement, manifested in
the acquisition of a breadth of view and vigor of action. It is both important and interesting to compare comnmunities whose improvement has been attempted on the moral principle alone, with the American community, in which dependence is had on the
intellectual.  The people who approach most nearly
281 
282     AIORAL AND INTELLECTUAL EDUCATION.
to us, so far as origin and habits of life are concerned,
are the English.  For many centuries their social
amelioration and political advancement were dependent on an appeal to morals. During the greater portion of that time the country had been Catholic, but
then it had also been reformed-ever, as it will always be, religious.  In my History of the Intellectual
Development of Europe, Chapter XXI., I have endeavored to estimate impartially the progress that had
been made under that system, and to give a picture
of the social state attained by its guidance. I think
that any one who will turn to those pages will come
to the conclusion that, even when thus perseverinigly
applied for many ages, under auspices of the most favorable and varied kind, upon a people naturally desirous of improvement, the moral method fails to yield
the results popularly imputed to it.
No social problem can be presented to our contemplation of higher importance. Shall we decide in favor of the moral or the intellectual method? the English or the American system?  For the sake of elnabling the reader to judge, I will present a brief abstract of some of the facts set forth in the chapter to
which I have alluded.  They are derived altogether
from  English sources, and to a considerable extent
from the works of Lord Macaulay and Mr. Froude.
At the close of the seventeenth century London
wvas the most populous capital in Europe; yet it was 
ENGLAND IN TIlE SEVENTEENTH CENTURY.
dirty, ill built, without sanitary provisions. The
deaths were one in twenty-three each year; now, in
a much more crowded population, they are not one
in forty. Much of the country was heath, swamp,
warren.  Almost within sight of the city there wvas
a tract twenty-five miles round nearly in a state of
nature; there were but three houses upon it. Wild
animals roamed in all directions.
Nothing more strikingly shows the social condition
than the provisions for locomotion. In the rainy seasons the roads were all but impassable, justifying the
epithet so often applied to them of being in a horrible
state. Through such gullies, half filled with mud, carriages wvere dragged, often by oxen, or, when horses
were used, it was as much a nlatter of necessity as, in
the city, a matter of display, to drive half a dozen of
them.  If the country was open, the track of the road
was easily mistaken: it wvas no uncommon thing for
persons to lose their way, and have to spend the night
out in the open air. Between places of considerable
importance the roads were very little known; and
such was the difficulty for wheeled carriages, that a
principal mode of transport was by pack-horses, of
which the passengers took advantage, stowing themselves away between the packs. We shall probably
not dissent from their complaint that this method of
traveling was hot in summer and cold in winter.  The
usual charge for freight was thirty cents a ton per
283 
284    ENGLAND IN TIlE SEVENTEENTHII CENTURY.
mile.  Toward the close of the century, what were
termed flying coaches were established: they could
move at the rate of from thirty to fifty miles a day.
ManIy persons thought the risk so great that it was a
tempting of Providence to go in them.  The mail-bag
wvas carried on horseback at about five miles an hour.
A penny-post had been established in the city, but
with much difficulty; for many long-headed men,
who knew very well what they were saying, had denounced it as an insidious "Popish contrivance."
Only a few years before this period Parliament had
resolved that "all pictures in the royal collection
which contained representations of Jesus or the Virgin Mother should be burned. Greek statues were
delivered over to Puritan stone-masons to be made
decent." A little earlier, Lewis Muggleton had given
himself out as the last and greatest of the prophets,
having power to save or damn whom he pleased.  It
had been revealed to him that God is only six feet
high, and the sun only four miles off. The country
beyond the Trent wvas still in a state of barbarism,
and near the sources of the Tyne there were people scarcely less savage than American Indians, their
"half-naked women chanting a wild measure, while
the men, with brandished dirks, danced a war-dance."
At the beginning of the eighteenth century there
wvere thirty-four counties without a printer. The
only press in England north of the Trent was at 
ENGLAND IN THE SEVENTEENTH CENTURY.
York. As to private libraries, there were none deserving, the name.  "An esquire passed for a great
scholar, if Hudibras, Baker's Chronicle, Tarleton's
Jests, and the Seven Champions of Christendom lay
in his hall wvindow."  It might be expected that the
women were ignorant enough, when very fewv men
knew howv to write correctly or even intelligibly, and
it had become unnecessary for clergymen to read the
Scriptures in the original tongues.
Social discipline was very far from being of that
kind which we call moral.  The mluaster whipped his
apprentice, the pedagogue his scholar, the husband
his wife. Public punishments partook of the genera]
brutality. It was a day for the rabble when a culprit was set in the pillory, to be pelted with brickbats, rotten eggs, and dead cats; when women were
fastened by the legs in the stocks at the market-place,
or a pilferer flogged through the town at the cart tail,
a clamnor not unfrequently arising unless the lash wvere
laid on hard enough "to make him howvl."  In punishmuents of a higher kind these whippings were perfectly horrible: thus Titus Oates, after standing twice
in the pillory, was whipped, and, after an interval of
a few days, whipped again.  A virtuoso in these mat.
ters gives us the incredible information that he counted as many as seventeen hundred stripes administered.
So far from the community being shocked at such an
exhibition, they appeared to agree in the sentiment,
285 
286    ENGLAND IN THE SEVENTEENTII CENTURY.
that "since his face could not be made to blush, it
was wvell enough to try what could be done with his
back."  Such a hardening of heart was in no lit tle degree promoted by the atrocious punishment of
state offenders; thus, after the decapitation of Mon trose and Argyle, their heads decorated the top of the
Tolbooth; and gentlemen, after the rising of Monmouth, were admonished to be careful of their ways,
by hanging in chains to their park gate the corpse of
a rebel to rot in the air.
To a debased public life private life corresponded.
The houses of the rural population were huts covered
with straw thatch; their inmates, if able to procure
fresh meat once a week, were considered to be in
prosperous circumstances; one half of the families in
England could hardly do that.  Children of six years
old were not unfrequently set to labor. The lord of
the manor spent his time in rustic pursuits, was not
an unwilling associate of peddlers and drovers, knew
how to ring a pig or shoe a horse; his wife and daughters "stitched and spun, brewed gooseberry wine, cured
marigolds, and made the crust for the venison pasty."
Hospitality was displayed in immoderate eating and
the drinking of beer, the guest not being considered
as having done justice to the occasion unless he had
gone under the table.  The dining-room was uncarpeted, but then it was tinted with a decoction of" soot
and small beer." The chairs were rush-bottomed. In 
ENGLAND IN THE SEVENTEENTH CENTURY.
London the houses were mostly of wood and plaster,
the streets filthy beyond expression. After nightfall
a passenger went at his peril, for chamber windows
were opened and slop-pails unceremoniously emptied
down.  There were no lamps in the streets until Master Fleming established his public lanterns.  As  a
necessary consequence, there were plenty of shoplifters, hicghwvaymen, and burglars.
As to the moral condition, it is fearfully expressed
in the statement that men not unfriequently were
willing to sacrifice their country for their religion.
Hardly any person died who was not suspected to
have been made away with by poison, an indication
of the morality generally supposed to prevail among
the higher classes. If such was the state of society
in its serious aspect, it was no better in its lighter.
We  can scarcely credit the impurity and immodesty
of the theatrical exhibitions.  What is said about
them  would be beyond belief, if we did not remeimber that they were the amusements of a community
whose ideas of female modesty and female sentiment
were altogether different from ours. Indecent jests
were put into the mouths of lively actresses, and the
dancing was not altogether of a kind to meet our approval. The rural clergy could do but little to withstand this flood of immorality. Their social condition
for the last hundred years had been rapidly declining;
for, though the Church possessed among her dignita.
287 
288    ENGLAND IN TIlE SEVENTEENTII CENTURY.
ries great writers and great preachers, her lower orders, partly through the political troubles that had
befallen the state, but chiefly in consequence of sectarian bitterness, had been reduced to a truly menial
condition.  It was the business of the rich man's
chaplain to add dignity to the dinner-table by saying
grace " in full canonicals," but he was also intended
to be a butt for the miirth of the company. "The
young Levite," such was the phrase then in  use,
"might fill himself with the corned beef and the carrots; but, as soon as tlie tarts and cheesecakes made
their appearance, he quitted his seat and stood aloof
till he was sulmmoned to return thanks for the repast," the daintiest part of which he had not tasted.
If need arose, he could curry a horse, "carry a parcel
ten miles," or "cast up the farrier's bill." The "wages"
of a parish priest were at starvation-poiint.  The social
degradation of the ecclesiastics is well illustrated by
an  order of Queen Elizabeth, that no  clergyman
should presume to marry a servanlt-gil wvithlout the
consent of her master or mistress.
In adminiistering the law, whether in relation to
political or religious offenses, there was an incredible
atrocity. In London, the crazy old bridge over the
Thames was decorated with grinning and mouldering
heads of criminals, under an idea that these ghastly
spectacles would fortify the common people in their resolves to act according to law.  The toleration of the 
ENGLAND IN THE SEVENTEENTH CENTURY.
times may be understood from a law enacted by the
Scotch Parliament, Mlay 8, 1685, that whoever preach.d or heard in a conventicle should be punished with
death and the confiscation of his goods.  That such
an infamous spirit should not content itself with mere
dead-letter laws, there is too mluch practical evidence
to permit any one to doubt.  A silly laboring man,
who had taken it into his head that he could not conscientiously       attend t he Episcopal worship, wvas seized
by a troop of soldiers, "rapidly examined, convicted
o      f  nonconformity, and sentenced to death in the prese     nce       of his      wife,  who led one little child by the hand,
and, it was easy t    o  see, was about to give birth to anot her. He                   wvas s hot before her face, the widow cryill,           out, in her agony,'Well, sirs, wvell, the day of
recko     ningi will c      omnl e.'" Shrieking Scotch Covenanters  were subm      itted to torture by crushing their knees
f     iat   in the b oot.    Women wvere tied to stakes on the
sea-sands and        dro   wned by the slowly advancing tide
because they                would    not attend Episcopal worship, or
branded on their cheeks and then shipped to America. Gallant but  wounded soldiers were hung in Scotla nd,         for fear th ey s hould die before they could be got
t      o England.    In the    troubles connected with AMonmouthl's          rising, in one   county alone, Somnersetshire,
t       wo hundred an d  thirty-three persons were hanged,
drawn, and quartered, to say nothing of military executioons; for the soldiers amused themselves by hang
T
289 
290    ENGLAND IN THE SEVENTEENTH CENTURY.
ing a culprit for each toast they drank, and making
the drums and fifes play, as they said, to his danciing.
It is needless to recall such incidents as the ferocity
of Kirk's lambs, for such was the name popularly given to the soldiers of that colonel, in allusion to the
P a schal                   Lamb they bore on their flag, or to the story
of                       Tom Boilman, so nicknamed fi om his having been
compelled by those veterans to seet        he th e remains of
his                        quartered friends in  melted pitch.  Women, for
s     uch                   idle oworids as  women are alva ys using, were
sen      tenced to be                             whipped at the cart's    tail through every mairket-towvn ill Dorset.  A lad named Tutching
was condemned to be flogged once a fortnight for seven years.  Eight hundred and forty-one human be
ings, judicially condemned to transportation to the
West India Islands, and suffering all the horrible
pains of a slave-shlip in the Middle Passage, "were
never suffered to go on deck;" in the holds below,
"all was darkness, stench, lamentation, disease, and
death."  One fifth of them were thrown overboard to
the sharks before they reached their destination, and
the rest obliged to be fattened before they could be
offered in the market to the Jamaica planters.  The
court ladies, and even the queen herself, were so utterly forgetful of womanly mercy and common humanity as to join in this infernal traffic. That princess requested that a hundred of the convicts should be given to her.  "The profit which she cleared on the car 
INTELLECTUAL EDUCATION.             291
go, after making a large allowance for those who died
of hunger and fever during the passage, can not be
estimated at less than a thousand guinieas."
Such incidents as that last mentioned would be in credible, if not cited upon unimpeachable authority.
It is that of Lord Macaulay, ill his History of England.
The advocates of the system of social improvement by
an appeal to the moral, excluding the intellectual, have
in this impartial representation of the state of that
country, after a persevering trial of hundreds of years
of that means, a proof of the failure of their well-mieant
but inadequate work.
Why is it that such things are impossible nosw?
The answer  promptly given to such an inquiry is,
that men are more enlightened.  Exactly so.  And
does not that confession concede the principle I am
endeavoring to enforce, that the improvement of society can only be accomplished through the intellect?
The moral is, in its very nature, stationary. Alone
it is incompetent to guide the advancement of society.
Social elevation can only be accomplished by appealing to the understanding, and that will influence the
heart.
Herein is the secret of the rapid development of
American society, and the prodigious strength of
American political institutions. If education were
restricted to a class, instead of being given to all, the 
INTELLECTUAL EDUCATION.
dead w-eighlt of the illiterate masses would keep ev.
ery thing in stagnation.
Whoever wvill examine the social condition of Europe from the epoch of its conversion to the close of
the seventeenth century, will not fail to perceive that
its torpidity through so many ages was connected
with the false system resorted to by the Italian authorities. Rome utterly rejected intellectual improvement; she struck it aside with an inexorable, often
with a bloody hand.  She fell into the political error
of expecting to accomplish the development of society
by methods that were essentially inadequate and stationary.
"Iglorance is the mother of Devotion"-of Superstition, it should rather have been said. There can
not be found in any country communities more religious and more enlightened than American. Knowvledge and morality, so far from being incompatible,
are intimately allied. Whatever improvement the
latter is capable of, it must owe to the advancement
of the former.
It is amazing what delusions and impostures held
an unquestioned position so long as that erroneous
system was applied.  It is amazing how they disappeared when the better system was put in force.
The moonlight has now no fairies, the solitude no genius, the darkness no ghost, no goblin. There is no
necromancer who can raise the dead fronm their graves,
292 
EXTINCTION OF SUPERSTITION.          293
-110no one vwho has sold his soul to the devil and signed
the contract with his blood —no angry apparition to
rebuke the crone who has disquieted him.  DiTivinationl, agromancy, pyromancey, hydromancey, cheiromancy, augury, interpreting of dreams, oracles, sorcery, astrology, are all gone.  It is three hundred and fifty
years since the last sepulchral lamp was found, and
that was near Rome.  There are no gorgons, hlydras,
chimeras, no familiars, no incubus or succubus. No
longer do captains buy of Lapland wAitches favorable
winds; no longer do  our churches resound with
prayers  against the baleful influences of comets,
thoulgh there still linger in some of our noble old
rituals forms of supplication for dry weathler and
rain-useless but not unpleasing reminiscences of the
past. The apothecary no longer says prayers over
the mortar in which he is pounding, to impart a divine afflatus to his drugs.  Who is there that nowv
pays fees to a relic, or goes to a saint shrine to be
cured? These delusions have vanished, together with
the night to wvhichl they appertained, yet they wvere
the delusions of fifteen hundred years.  In their support might be produced a greater mass of human testimony than probably could be brought to bear on
any other matter of belief in the entire history of
man;  and yet in the nineteenth century we have
come to the conclusion that the whole, from the beginning to the end, was a deception.  Let him, there 
EXTINCTION OF SUPERSTITION.
fore, who is disposed to balance the testimony of past
ages against the dictates of his ovwn reason ponder on
this strange history.  Let him who relies on the authority of human evidence in the guidance of his
opinions, now settle with himself what that evidence
is worth.
The value of social methods is to be determined by
an ascertainment of their practical working.  We
have only to compare the slow progress made by Europe when under its moral education, with the rapid
advancement of America under its intellectual education. How striking is the contrast between the infatuated supernaturalism of the one, and the plain
common sense of the other! For many successive
centuries the former was a theatre of magic.  It was
not until the Reformation that an end was put to
those disgraceful miracles that were a public scandal.
As enlightenment advanced they could no longer be
made to succeed.  Even Rome, the workshop of those
artifices, ceased to be the seat of that trade. They
could never be imposed on America.
But, though this continent rejected those impostures, it has been the scene of wonders of a very different kinld —miracles not ending when the enchanter
ceased w-aving his wand, and requiring the autllhenltication of credible or credulous witnesses, but lasting
for all time and open to all eyes. From the Atlantic
shore-line to a vast distance in the interior the forests
294 
AMIERICA IN IHER FIRST CENTURY.
that encumbered the ground have been cut down;
the gloomy waste has become fertile fields; roads for
hundreds of thousands of miles have been constructed; rivers have been bridged; canals have been dug.
The self-nmultiplying force of society has at length
here found unrestrained scope; the population ilncreases with unparalleled rapidity.  A  network of
iron, daily increasing in extent, has been spread; telegraphic wires run in all directions.  Great cities, with
hundreds of thousands of inhabitants, hav.e arisen.
A large portion of Europe is fed by the harvests that
are gathered; a large portion of the human race turns
hither for its clothing.  The people on the borders of
the great lakes can speak instantaneously to those on
the Gulf of Mexico; those on the,Atlantic and Pacific
can do the same.  Innumerable churches, and colleges,
and hospitals are scattered over the land in all directions. The ports are forests of masts. The flag of
the country is seen on every sea and from every
shore.
A self-conscious democracy has wrung from its rivals and enemies the reluctant confession that "it is
not fickle to its rulers, unstable in its policy, wavering in its determination;" that "it is not violent or
cruel, nor too impatient of discipline and obedience
to be inapt for military success;" that "it will support
the expenses of war and the burden of taxation."
They speak of the opinions which Europe has held
2 90 
THiE CIVIL WAR.
on thlese points as "delusions" unsafe any longer to en
tertain.  It has also taught them the portentous les son that "a despot is not necessary for the conducting
of a great war," ill which there are engaged armies
of a million of men and a navy of a thousand ships.
These are a sample of the miracles that spring
firom Intelligence.  Compare theml with the miracles
done ill a corlner   that spring from  superstition.
They are also thle miracles of Peace.
But there are also miracles of War. In a land
lwheie every man is free to think and free to act as
hle likles-where one might supplose that there w-ould,
of necessity, be a Babel hubbub of confusion, and society be only a rope of sand, the shot of a gun at their
flag brought half a million of riflemen into the field.
The waste of battle and the hospitals was for years
emoire than supplied.  With admirable elnergy, an ironclad navy, that can match the navies of the world,
was sent to sea.  Never wvas there such an exhil)ition
of public resolution and of private chaiity.  If an
army of a hundred thousand men melted away before cainnon and by fever, there was anotliei army of
a lhuiidled and fifty thousand men put ill its place.
The wars of Europe, even those of the French Empire, were outdone in brilliancy and in result.  The
man of the Northwest hewed his way wvithl his swvord
to the Gulf of Mexico by a river more than a thousand miles long, paving its bottom with the wAvriecks
296 
THE CIVIL WAR.
of ships.  The man of the Northeast executed marches of more than two thousand miles, resistlessly capturiing cities and subjugating states: there were tro.
phies of thousands of guns.  The mouth of the Mississippi was forced by one of the most brilliant operations ill naval annals. The art of war, both by land
and sea, was absolutely remodeled.  Slavery, that,
like a gnailed Upas-tree, had struck its roots into a
country almost one fourth the size of Europe, was
-wrencheed out of the earth.  A  track of grilm desolation, of unutterable ruin, marked where the avenging
cannon-v wheels had passed.  There were spent three
thousand millions of dollars, and yet this people put
off its armor more powerful, richer, better, than ever
before.
Is there any miracle the Old World can show
the equal of that?  And what was it worled for?
For the sake of an Idea-that there shall exist on
this continent one Republic, great and indivisible.
Such, then, are the fruits of the culture of the Intellect, such are the advantages the American has
over the European system: in truth, it belongs to a
high,ler stage of social life. We have already seen
that, in the general plan of Nature, the direction of
evolution is altogether toward the intellectual; a conclusion elually impressed upon us whether our mode
of examination be anatomical or historical.  Anatomically we find no provision in the nervous system for
297 
AIORAL AND INTELLECTUAL'PROGRESS.
the imnprovement of the moral, save indirectly through
the intellectual, the whole aimi of development being
for the sake of intelligence.  Historically, inll the same
manner, wve find that the intellectual has always led
the way in social advancement, the moral having been
subordinate thereto.  The former has been the mainspring of the movement, the latter passively affected.
It is a mistake to make the progress of society depend
on that which is itself controlled by a higlher power.
In the earlier and inferior stages of individual life we
may govern through the moral alone.  In that way
we may guide children, but it is to thle understanding
of the adult that we must appeal.  A system working only throughl the moral must, sooner or later,
come into antagonism with the intellectual, and if it
does not contain within itself a means of adaptation
to the changing circumstances, must in the end be
ov-erthrovwn.  This wvas the grand error of that Roman system which presided while European civiliza.
tion was developing.  It assumed as its basis a uni.
form, a stationary psychological condition in man.
Forgetting thlat the powers of the mind grow with
the possessions of the mind, it considered those who
lived in past generations as being in no respect mentally inferior to those who are living now, though our
children at sixteen may have a wider range of knowledge than our ancestors at sixty.  That such an imperfect system could exist for so lmany ages is a proof
293 
MORAL AND INTELLECTUAL PROGRESS.
of a contemporary condition of undeveloped intellect,
as we see that the understanding of a child does
not revolt against the moral suasion, often intrinsically feeble, with which we attempt to influence him.
But it would be as unphilosophical to treat with disdain the ideas that have served as a guide in the earlier ages of European life, as to look with contempt
on the motives that have guided us in youth. Their
feebleness and incompetency are excused by their suitab)ility to the period of life to whichl they are applied.
But whoever considers these things wvill see that
there is a term beyond which the application of such
methods can not be extended.  The head of a family
would act unwisely if he attempted to apply to his
son at twenty-one the methlods he had successfully
used at ten: such methods could only be rendered
effective by a resort to physical compulsion. A great
change in the intervening years has taken place, and
ideas once intrinsically powerful can exert their influence no more. The moral may have remained unchanged, it may be precisely as it was-no better, no
worse; but that which has changed is the understanding.  Reasoning and inducements of an intellectual
kind are now needful.
If it is thus with the individual, it is likewise so
with humanity.  For centuries nations may live under forms that meet their requirements-forms suitable to a feeble state; but it is altogether illusory to
299 
DEVELOPMIENT OF GREEK LIFE.
suppose that such an adaptedness can continue forever.  A critical eye discerns that the mental features
of a given generation have become different firom those
of its ancestors.  New ideas and a new manner of actionl are the tokens that a modification has silently
taken place.  Though after a short interval the change
mighlt not amount to much, in the course of time there
must inevitably be exhibited the spectacle of a society
that had outgrown its forms, its rules of life.
In the work firom which I have so frequently quoted
I have considered in detail the theme here presented,
and have endeavored to showv that there is a complete
analogy between individual and national life.  Selecting for preliminary examination the only European nation offering a complete and completed intellectual life, and out of the five general topics that
might be resorted to-philosophy, science, literature,
religion, government-using the first as best suited
for the purpose, I have endeavored to ascertain the
characteristics of Greek mental development, expecting to find that the younger members of the European
famlllily, more or less distinctly, would offer illustrations
of the same mode of advancement; and that, indeed,
the whole continent, which is the aggregate of these
separate elements, would in its secular progress comport itself in a like way.  From such an examination
it appears that the whole movement in question is of
a nature answering to that observed in an individual,
300 
DEVELOPMENT OF GREEK LIFE.
and, like it, conveniently separable into arbitrary periods sufficiently distinct from one another.  In succession there may be observed an age of credulity, an
age of inquiry, an age of faith, an age of reason, an
age of decrepitude. The first, the age of credulity,
which had filled the Mediterranean  Sea with monsters and marvels, was closed by geographical discovery; the second, which includes the Ionian, the Pythagorean, the Eleatic philosophies, was ended by the
criticisms of the Sophists; the third, embracing the
Socratic and Platonic, by the doubts of the Skeptics;
the fourth, ushered in by the Macedonian expedition
in a material sense, and in a philosophical by Aristotle and the Stoics, and adorned by the splendid
achievements of the Alexandrian school, degenerated
into imbecility, Neo-platonism, and mysticism; and
the hand of Rome put an end to the fifth. In the
mental progress of this people we therefore discern
the forthshadowing of a career like that of individual
life-a career of which the epochs answer to those of
infancy, childhood, youth, manhood, old age.
Is there not a wide step from the simple, and, indeed, childlike inquiries of the Ionians as to the primiary element, to the majestic speculations and abiding
faith of Platonism, and another to that exact science
which culminated in the MIuseum of Alexandria, and
still another to the superstition of Plotinus?  The
strong man of Stoicism had degenerated into the su
301 
DEVELOPMIENT  OF GREEKI LIFE.
peraIlinuated dotard, full of admiration for the past,
of contemptuous disgust for the present, his thoughts
wandering back to the things that had occupied him
in his youth and even in his infancy. In this its
closing scene, Greek philosophy is garrulity and mysticism.
From the solution of the four great problems of
Greek philosophy given in each of the five stages of
its life, it is not difficult to determine the law of the
variation of Greek opinion, and to show its analogy
to that of the variation of the opinions in individual
life. A supreme interest gathers round such an analysis when we compare what was here accomplished
with what had been done in the same direction by
the ancestry of the Indo-Germanic nations in Asia;
when we see emerging in Europe, spontaneously or
willingly adopted, the majestic ideas of India, where
man had risen to the grand conception of a multiplic.
ity of worlds in infinite space, and a succession of
worlds in infinite time.
And now it may be clearly shown that these
phases of Greek intellect are already in part repeated
in the life of Europe, though it is a continent of many
meteorological contrasts, and has a varied surface of
relief, and is therefore full of modified men. For it,
too, there have been successive ages. An age of credulity, the old Pagan times, was ended by the spread
of the power of republican Rome; a period then in
302 
EPOChS OF EUROPEAN LIFE.
tervenes up to the foundation of Constantinople-it
is one of inquiry  then follows an age of faith, the
Turkish invasion of Europe marking its close.  The
harbingers of the age of reason were maritime discovery and philosophical criticism: the former being still
more effective in its operation than in ancient times,
for it dislocated the centre of material activity and
the centre of intellect, changing the front of Europe
from the north shore of the MAediterranean Sea to the
Atlantic Ocean, and forced nations that had hitherto
lain eccentrically and in comparative obscurity into
the very van of the new movement.
This regular advance of Europe toward its age of
reason was to no small extent affected by two agencies, to which it would appear that sufficient importance has not yet been attached.  T'he first of these
was altogether scientific; it was the influence of the
Jewvish physicians. Its range is over a period of more
than seven  centuries.  The second, the Arabian action, was partly intellectual and partly political. Of
all the incidents of European life, this is the most
misunderstood and undervalued.
From the age that could accept without question
the scientific ideas of patristicisin, to that which delighted in the abstruse lmetaphysics of Abelard, there
is a very great step; there is also another very great
one before we reach the age of Newton.  At intermediate periods, a much shorter space apart, the varia
303 
EPOCHS OF EUROPEAN LIFE.
tions in the movement are so distinct, and their gen.
eral tendency so obvious, that for an observing man
to have overlooked them seems almost all impossibility.  To assert that the earth is stationary is a much
less surprising error than to assert the mental immobility of mall; yet it is very well knowvn that even so
lately as the seventeenth century this doctrine was
the basis of the European political system.
This gradual process of intellectual development,
shown so strikingly by the past history of Europe, so
strikingly in its present life, is destined, necessarily,
likewise to be shown by America;
" For, I doubt not, through the ages an increasing purpose
runs,
And the thoughts of men are widened by the process of
the suns."
Here the direction of the movement is altogether toward the intellectual. The advance is so rapid, the consequent material results are so prodigious, that they
seem more like the castle-building of a wild romancer
than the calculated realities of a political economist.
From that intellectual aspect which in so marked
a manner it is fast assuming, it is plain that this continent is destined for ages to be the seat of a conflict
of ideas.
The law of action and reaction obtains as  completely in the collisions of human  opinion as in the
mechanical collisions of bodies. An idea can not
304 
TIIE PROGRESS OF AN IDEA.
make  its way through nations without receiving
from them a special impress, and becoming modified
by the ideas it encounters. Whatever may be its innate force, whatever its massiveness, it is influenced
by them in proportion to their firmness or their
power.
Such is undoubtedly the true effect, but very often
it assumes a deceptive aspect. When a stone falls to
the earth, the earth rises through a definite distance
to meet the stone, and the amount of motion accomplishled by each is capable of an exact scientific determination; but, considering the relative masses of
the two bodies, we may, for all practical purposes,
without sensible error, neglect the movement of the
greater, and consider the descending stone as alone
affected.
So with an Idea: its massiveness and its momentum may long preserve it without sensible modification. For practical purposes, it, too, may be conlsidered as unaffected, though, correctly speaking, it is
slowly undergoing change.
A new idea intruding itself among old ones will
probably meet with resistance from them-a resistance often arising in part from their philosophical nature, and in part from material interests that may
have gathered round them. Its progress is, however,
facilitated by that innate tendency to a change of
thought which affects all men; for that in every indi                        U
305 
RESISTANCE TO NEW IDEAS.
vidual there is a tendency to such a continuous variation of thought, no one can doubt who examines his
owvn mental state at periods separated by a few years,
and compares it with that of other persons examined
at like epochs. The change observed in each is common to all, even though some may perhaps manifest
it in a manner less conspicuous than others. The
generality of the fact indicates that it originates in
conditions to which all are subject; and that in nations there is a similar progression, may be readily
proved by a superficial examination of their social
state. In the progress of human affairs there arise
classes of men who through their interests are identified with existing forms of opinion, and who manifest
an extreme jealousy of any divergence from those
forms.  At first, because of the strength of public
opinion coinciding with them and the feebleness of
the commencing dissent, that jealousy may be gratified in open and violent persecution; but as the force
of coinciding public opinion gradually declines, and
the divergence or dissent gathers power, though the
opposition may be none the less bitter, it is obliged
to act in a more masked or insidious way. Eventually, through the continued operation of the same
causes, even such indirect action ceases.
MIany illustrations of these principles might be
given, but one will suffice: it is the manner in which
astronomical ideas have forced their way.  Consider
306 
RESISTANCE TO NEW IDEAS.
ing the probable consequences that might arise from
the establishment of the Copernican system, particularly as respects the relative insignificance of our
earth among such countless myriads of worlds, very
many of which, by their size and importance, seem to
be of inconceivably greater worth-considering the
incompatibility of such views with the notion gelnerally held in the Mliddle Ages that the universe was
made for man, that its object and aim were altogether
subordinate to human interests, it could not be otherwise than that opposition to so dangerous a divergenicy of thought should arise. Accordingly, it showed
itself in the first period in a violent manner, seeking
to extinguish the apparent heresy by the personal destruction or persecution of those who had fallen into
it.  But this by degrees passed away, and more moderate though more insidious methods were adopted.
After a few years that opposition ceased. It is by
no means the least interesting feature of these e-ents
that so great a resistance was thus successfully overcome, not alone against ancient authority, but even,
as it were, against common sense; for he who adopts
the philosophical doctrine of the globular figure of
the earth, and assigns to it its true place as a member of the solar system, must question the evidence
of his own eyes in matters that seem so incontestible
as the rising and setting of the sun, and the actual effect of immense mountain ranges and great valleys in
disturbing that globular form.
307 
RESISTANCE TO NEW IDEAS.
Whenever we see force applied for the controlling
of ideas, whether it be in an open or in an indirect
way, weve may be sure that it is because material in
terests are in jeopardy, and that the power of the
opinions on which they depend is becoming weak,
and they themselves approaching to their end.
This example may also serve as an illustration of
the manner in which the minds of men tend to unity
of opinion in cases where klnowledge of absolute truth
is attainable, though they may be under very diverse
interests. This, indeed, is the characteristic of exact
science, that it spontaneously compels such a uniformity.  In a question of arithmetic, no one contends
against the true solution, though his personal interests may be opposed to it. In questions of geometry,
neither the steps of the demonstration nor the conclusions are ever disputed, and the same holds good in
questions of physics. Once let the true solution be
reached, and it spontaneously compels universal assent. The exact solution of any such question, no
matter what its bearing may be, forthwith becomes
an undisputed rule of action, from which no person,
if even he had the wish, could ever free himself. In
the anarchy of opinion nowv prevailing on many points
of interest to the well-being of society, this gives confidence to the hopes of the philosopher, for he sees
that, year by year, the dominion of reason is spreading, and that men deliver themselves unreservedly to
308 
RESISTANCE TO NEW IDEAS.
it; hlie sees that the essential weakness of many old
forms of opinion was, in a great measure, attributable
to this, that they led to a division of society into two
unequal classes-a small one, which set itself above
reason, and an immensely large one, whicli was beneath reason; the former outraging truth by the most
audacious inventions for deceiving the latter, who, on
their part, were the more completely duped the more
transparent and preposterous the fraud. The one
stood aloof from Reason because it was unsuited to
their practices, the other declined it because it was inconsistent with their credulity.  Institutions founded
on such a state of things can have no innate strength,
and only continue through the dexterous application
of shifting expedients. But very different is it when
men, instead of depreciating and distrusting Reason,
put themselves unreservedly under its control: thence
must arise unanimity, and unanimity is strength.
To the bar of common sense must be brought all
ideas, whatsoever they may be, to receive their final
judigm'ent; and this, not only as respects those that
are of a physical, but also those of a moral kind.
There is no other course for it now in the world.
Reason offers the only authority which men of all nations will acknowledge. Indeed, it is the recognition
of this axiom which leads the European to the expectation that all other people will eventually adopt
his faith, in view of the strong evidences he can pre
309 
RESISTANCE TO NEW IDEAS.
sent to them of its truth, and the unreasonableness
of the ideas which they and their ancestors have fol.
lowed; but what else is this than the exaltation of
Reason above Authority? What other interpreta tion can we give of the numerous apologies and ar guments put forth in their day by the different forms
of faith? Are they not all essentially based upon
the principle that Reason is the only, and must be the
final judge? —that supernatural testimony mnust wait
upon her decisions, and that faith is only sure when it
is founded on common sense?  How otherwise than
upon this principle can we hope to bring the Buddhist and the Mohammedan from their fallacies-fallacies which at this moment are beguiling the greater part of the human race?
What I have just said respecting the modifications
an idea must undergo through its collision with other
ideas may be generalized. Entire systems of philosophy are liable to similar effects. They are nothing
but modes of thought; and when they intrude themselves among dissimilar modes of thought, mutual dis
placements and alterations must ensue. The expectations of those who look forward to a glorious career
for all nations of the earth in commomi, each catching
a share of the enthusiasm and each contributing a
share to the advance, are founded upon the effect
which they suppose must ensue from the diffusion of
our own power and enlightenment.  What, they ex.
310 
RESISTANCE TO NEW IDEAS.
claim, will be the grand result, when our knowledge
and ideas have become the common property of the
wvorld! What will it be when, by the printing-press,
the telegraph, and other modern appliances, all men
are brought in close interconnection, and, indeed, in instantaneous intercommunication!  I would ask them
to observe, for it is true that we stand on the brink
of those events, what was the result to the ancient
Greek philosophies, when, after the rise of Athens to
political supremacy, they wvere all mingled together
and compared together.  Was it not the total destruction of them all? Brought into contact, as it were,
at a common central point, none could gain an absolute predominance over all the rest. I would also
ask them to look at the result of the supremacy of
Rome-of her policy of patronizing all the forms of
Paganism, and bringing them at one point in contact:
again, was it not the utter destruction of them all?
And so it must be when European systems of thought
come into contact and conflict with Asiatic, as they will
before long do, by the increasing means of intercommunication, which are in reality equivalent to centralization: each will no longer be measured by its own
partial standard, but all must be submitted to that of
a more general —nay, even of a universal kind. From
such a conflict I do not believe that any would come
forth without at least exhibiting marks of the most
profound modification; and for the weaker Asiatic
311 
THE POWER OF IDEAS IN AMERICA.
there seems to be no other issue than absolute destruction for all those parts that are not intrinsically
true.
The American political system is founded on the
principle of public intellectual culture. Recognizing
the truth of the maximl that ideas govern the world,
it rests its hopes on universal education. In this respect it differs essentially firom its European contemporaries. They furnish enlightenment to certain classes only, not to the lower social strata.
Such a repressive policy can, however, never impart
intrinsic strength to a community, as those wvho devised and those who adopted it supposed.  The insecurity of Europe, whose civilization hangs over an
awful gulf, and the strength of America, whose development is proceeding with so much energy, are each
due to the course that has been followed in this respect. In Europe men grope about in political dark.
ness, not knowing whither they are going, and afraid
to look into the future.  In America, the sentiment
of a manifest destiny to imperial greatness gives to
every one a determinate direction and an energetic
life.
While the Slave States existed as a political power,
they were forced by the necessities of their position
to adopt the European maximi, and impose a forced
ignorance on the low elements of their society.  Had
312 
CENTRALIZATION IN AMERICA.
they done otherwvise, the spark  of enlightenment
would quickly have kindled into a volcanic, devouring flame. But, since their overthrowv in the Civil
War, maxims of a very different, an opposite kindthose that have given such unparalleled power to the
East, the North, the West-will come into play.
There will be a harmony of action over the whole
contiinent.
Intellectual development necessarily implies centralization; but, as we have seen in the foregoing
pages, centralization is not incompatible with selfgovernment; in fact, it may be the logical issue of
democratic principles.  It is through the working of
this great truth that the Republic has passed through
its inferior stage of life-the epoch of state sovereignties. At that time it was in the condition of one of
those animated forms that have a dozen or more different nerve centres, each acting independently of the
rest, or joining in concert only as suited itself, and
hardly acknowledging the power of any central governing organ. But, as in animated nature and in individual man concentration accompanies development,
so in national life there is an inevitable tendency to
convergence, and to the conferring on a predetermined
part a dominant control.
The practical working of these principles may be
very advantageously studied in the pages of ecclesiastical history, which furnishes a lesson deserving the
313 
314    EXAMPLE FROMl ECCLESIASTICAL HISTORY.
attention of every American - a beacon that nmay
guide in the right path, that may warn from error.
The first Christian coimmunities established in Syria,
Asia Minor, and elsewhere throughout the Roman
Empire, present many highly interesting social analogies to the first Amuerican colonies.  Their churches
were the only political embodiments that were permissible or possible, and of them the constitution was
essentially democratic, powver being diffused in the
congregation. The independent existence they maintained was by degrees modified, church affiliating
with church, gathering thereby protection and conferring power.  The individual helplessness they at
first exhibited was exchanged for security.  In a very
short time, as concentration and centralization went
on, a ruling personage emerged from among his clerical peers, who, passing into subordination, acknowledged his authority. The samne tendency still unceasingly continuing, the bishops, in their turn, permitted a superior.  In the time of Constantine, so
completely had this process of centralization gone on,
that power was ready to converge into the three great
sees of Rome, Constantinople, Alexandria.  Then came
the struggle between them for supremacy.  The annlals of Europe for many years are its history. Eventually, the Bishop of Rome became the paramount authority over all.
There are but two elements of government-Faith 
EXAMPLE FROM ECCLESIASTICAL IIISTORY.
and Force   During the greater portion of its civilized
life, Europe has been under the dominion of the foriner. For many centuries its kings were nothing
more than lieutenants of the Sovereign Pontiff. In
assigning, as we so commonly do, a superiority to the
political over the ecclesiastical element in the history
of that continent, we fall into a misapprehension: we
adopt the views of those who consider only the integrant or constituent states, and not the view that
ought to be adopted from a contemplation of their
aggregate-the continent; for there was a time, a
long time, in which ecclesiasticism discharged those
international relationships that are now discharged
by diplomacy.  In Rome resided the animating, the
uniting principle of all.
Those Christian Congresses that pass under the designation of Councils are not without their analogues
in the American political system.  To us there can
be nothing more interesting than to study their relations with the executive Papal authority-howv it
called them into action when its purposes required,
and how, when its statesmanship indicated, it evaded
or declined to permit their continued existence.  Howv
different the result) had a Senate of Christendom been
possible-a supreme authoritative body, with the
Pope as its first executive officer!  There were often
great men who saw that that was the chief necessity
of their times; there were Councils that attempted to
accomplish it.
315 
316    EXAMPLE FROM ECCLESIASTICAL IIISTORY.
In the history of this vwonderful power, that for a
thousand years maintained its sway, the American, I
repeat, may find abundant instruction.  Only let him
divest his mind of the impression that there was any
thing supernatural about it, for that serves to dimin ish its intrinsic merit as the most extraordinary and
most successful of human political conceptions carried
into practical operation. He may realize from it the
inevitable course through which all enduring human
associations must pass.  He may see how, in its limited sphere, it depended on the same principles on
which hle is depending.  It signified nothing to the
Church that her greatest dignitaries had come firom
the lowvest social ranks.  Mental capacity was what
she sought; she appropriated it wherever she could
find it. Considering the intrinsic weakness of the intellectual basis on which she rested, considering how
incompatible it wvas with increasing enlightenment,
our admiration may be worthily excited by the wondrous duration of her power.  In that we may perceive auspices of the most favorable kind for ourselves, who likewise are making every thing depend
on the organization of intellect; not, however, as she
did, for securing the stability of what, at the most,
was only an institution, but for a nation; not resting
ourselves, as she did, on the supernatural, which is in
its very nature delusive and unsatisfactory, but on
Reason, which is enduring. Italian ecclesiasticism 
CONCLUSION.
wvas necessarily a specialty; American republicanism
is for a continent. The one was mainly concerned in
perpetuating      the power of a guild; the other is in.
ten        ded indiscriminately for all classes of men.   But a
philosop hic al  study of the political history of the former-its transcendent successes as well as its conspicuous misfortunes-the course of events through which
it passed-the profound knowledge it displayed of
men, and, it ma y be emphatically added, of women
too, who constitute a most important element of national life the modes of action it observed toward
antagonizing influences-its equanimity in the meridian splendor of its power-its tenacity of purpose,
as inexorable as the grave in adversity-these are
thi        ngs whic    h we, who are commencing a career of
grandeur in a parallel direction, also requiring democra    tic   principles to be coordinated with self-govern.
men     t, and th at  with organization of intellect and concentration of power, may find to be worthy of our
most profound attention.
317  
INDEX.
Abderrahman III. introduces cotton,
Abderrahman III. introduces cotton,
s118.
Abelard, 303.
African slaves first imported, 131.
Age of Earth, 32.
Ages of Greek life, 300.
Agricultural colleges, 168.
Agriculture, Egyptian, 67.
Air, slow changes in, 30.
Alexander the Great, his policy, 99.
Alexandria ruins, Greece, 100.
America, consequences of discovery of,
95.
domestic life in, 85.
effects of climate in, 78, 80.
locomotion in, 84.
neutralization of climate in, 82.
policy of, 78.
American clergy, 279.
continent, position of, 92.
immigration, 101, 102.
Indians, 96.
Americanization in the West, 174.
Animal, its nature, 15.
Animals and Plants, their relation, 21.
extinction of, 32.
hot-blooded, 31.
Antiochus Epiphlanes, 208.
Arabia, description of, 179, 180.
Arabian emigration, 112.
ideas, their influence, 198.
Arabizing of countries, 112.
Ararat, its plants, 38.
Archetype of society, 248.
Arkwright, inventions of, 123,151.
Aristotle, 241.
followed by Arabs, 192.
Art in Europe, 141, 142.
spontaneous, 140.
Asia, climate of, 68.
political state of, 76.
stagnation of, ")G.
synthetic mind of, 75.
tends to reli,ion, 72.
topography of, 68.
Asiatic empires, peculiarities of, 107.
women, their beauty, 114.
Asiatics have lost locomotion, 70.
have lost sense of improvement, 71.
Athens, destruction of philosophy in,
311.
Atlantic plain, 49.
States, condition of, 166.
States, their people, 165.
Atmosphere, nature of, 213.
receptacle of dead, 23.
unchangeable, 22, 30.
Au,ustus, enactments of, 110.
Aurora, 227.
Australian emigration, 98.
population, 137.
Automatons, 243.
Averroes, 195.
Averroism, influence in Europe, 197.
propagation of, 196.
B.
Babylonian captivity, its effect, 202.
conquests, 100.
Bagdad, schools of, 192.
Baines on cotton manufacture, 125.
Barbarians, their changes, 111.
Bell, his inventions, 125.
Belligerent rights, 266.
Berengar the heretic, 81.
Bleacbin' 124.
Blood a;Tixture, 106,163.
admixture affects thought, 108.
adulteration, 108. 
320
Blood, uses of, 90.
Blue-eyed men, 42.
Botero, F., 153.
Brain, 246, 260.
doubleness of, 44.
Brindley's inventions, 126.
B     rutu s, spectoe of, 185.
Buffalo migrations, 24.
Byzantine policy, 235.
Climate, excessive, 51.
United States, 51.
varieties of American, 55.
Clouds, 225.
Coal produced from the air, 30.
Coffee from Arabia, 73.
Colleges, multiplication of, 168.
Colony, life of, 59.
Colonies, their weakness, 100.
Colonization of Europe, 135.
Colosse, Egyptian, 64.
Colossus  a    type  of Egypt,     67.
Columbia River, 51.
Columbus, 89.
refers to Averroes, 196.
voyage of, 230.
Common sense decides ideas, 309.
Comparative history, 62.
philology, 135.
Complexion, changes in, 40.
Conscience, its effects, 175.
Conservation of force, 193.
Conservatism, its cause, 160.
Constantine opposes science, 212.
Constitution, qualities of, 60.
Constructive affinity of democracy, 266.
Copernican theory established, 307.
Cotton manufacture, 116, 122.
quantity of, 131.
Councils of the Church, 315.
Crime on river banks, 35.
tendency of men to, 35.
tendency of women to, 36
Crompton's inventions, 123, 151.
Crusades, 88, 95, 146.
Currents in the sea, 221.
Coesar, peasantry in the time of, 42.
puts premium on marriage, 109.
Calico printing, 125.
California, 91.
Canal system, 121.
Caravanserai, 70.
Carthaginian po-wer, 99
Castes in Egypt, 162.
Castle building, 45.
Catacombs, Egyptian, 64.
Caucasus, inhabitants of, 42.
Celibacy, public, 155.
Central Europe, former state of, 104.
Centralization and self- government,
268.
in ecclesiasticism, 314.
Centre of population, 146, 147.
Cephalic ganglia, 245.
Chadizah, 186.
Character in North and South, 53.
Chemise, 117.
Chiapa, Bishop of, 97.
China, education in, 83.
organization of, 250, 261.
Chinese canal, 74.
emigration, 91, 171.
mode of government, 272.
wall, 74.
Christian churches, their example, 314.
Christianity, its place of origin, 108.
Church, Roman, its example, 316.
Ci rcumnavigation of earth, 231.
Civil wAar, 80.
effects of, 85, 171.
Classical instruction, 275.
Claudius, his speech, 148, 150.
Clergy, American, 279.
education of, 275.
Clergymen, mode of life of, 278.
Climate, effect onl Asiatics, 71.
cffect on brain, 47.
INDEX.
C.
D.
Debt, American, 177.
De Gama, 89.
Delos a slave market, 99.
Delusions, cause of, 183.
Demagogues, 60, 79.
Democracy in Europe and America,
265.
self-conscious, 295.
Desert of the West, 50.
Differentiation and growth, 252.
of comniunities, 257.
political, 254.
Dilution of blood, 107.
Doctrine of human unitv, 143. 
INDEX.
Dog, wiild, 135.
I)omnestic life in America, 85.
Dominicans, 195.
Finnish language, ]SG.
Fislh nmigra,tions, 24.
Flame of lamp, its destiny, 62.
Florida, climate of, 51.
Food, its uses, 20.
Force comes from the sun, 20.
conservation of, 193.
France, relative strength of, 129.
Franciscans, 195.
Franklin, experiments of, 228.
Free blacks, 132.
Freedom, intellectual, 236.
French emigration, 103.
Earth, modifications of, 30.
Earthquake of Lisbon, 187.
Eastern hlabits, introduction of, 1 72.
Education, 4G, 82.
Chinese, 83.
universal, 249, 268, 272.
Egypt, art of, 140.
history of; 63, 162.
immobility of, 68.
permanence of, 67.
El Dorado, 96.
Electrical discoveries, 228.
Emanation of souls, 193.
Emigration, Australian, 98.
Chinese, 91.
effects of, 48, 93, 94, 105.
English, 97, 101.
Greek, 98.
principles of, 95.
Puritan, 101.
Spanish, 96.
Empires, chain of, 61.
England in 17th century, 282.
English population doubles, 146.
Ennui, national, 90.
Esdras, Book of, 206.
Europe, analytical mind of, 75.
ancient colonization of, 136.
autochthons of, 137.
Central, its former state, 104.
effect of Crusades on, 88.
effect of mercantile activity, 89.
males and females in, 113.
women of, 115.
tends to I)hilosophy, 72.
union in, 81.
European life, epochs of, 303.
Evaporation, 224.
Ezra, 207.
Galileo, 127.
Galvanism, 229.
Gas, nature of, 215.
wells, 74.
Geological discovery, 247.
variations in Asia, 69.
Georgia abolishes slave-trade, 131.
German movements in Europe, 95.
Germinal memb       rane,  246.
Glaciers, 227.
Glass wn-indows, 43.
Gotlhs, their emigration, 104.
Government thlrough morals and intel     lect, 268.
Great Britain, emigration from, 105.
Great Exhibition, cotton at, 120.
Greek art, 141.
emigration, 98.
legends, origin of, 64.
mental development, 300.
Gregory VII., his policy, 81.
Grosswth and differentiation,  252.
Gulf Stream, 25, 145, 221.
H.
Habitation,, permanent, its result, 160.
Hargreaves, inventions of, 123, 151.
Heat, effects of, 5)5.
intrinsic of earth, 31.
Hebrews, philosophicalprogress of, 204.
.Hindoo cotton manufacture, 119.
Itistors,  compa     rative,  62.
Htoly ws ars, 95.
Homestead, love of, 84.
Ilomogeneousness, national, 107.
Itordes, Asiatic, their emigrations, 69.
tlIumboldt on fllants, 38.
Factory system, 123.
Fakirs, Asiatic, 72.
Families, large Arabian, 113.
Fanlines and drouthlis predetermined, 
27.:
Fetish worship in Egyvpt, 137.
x
i
321
E.
G.
F. 
322
L.
Lakes, great, quantity of water in, 49.
Language, effects of, 82.
effects on emigration, 103.
La)land witches, 293.
Lateran Council co lemns  Averrocs,
L197.
Latin, its use, 82.
Law, administration of, 283.
controlling, 22, 3t.
natural operation of, 33, 35.
Laws of transposition of men, 105.
Letters misdirected, 36.
Lil)erty under restraint, 264.
Linguistic researches, 134.
Lisbon earthquake, 187.
Literature organizes the world, 250.
Locomotion, consequences of in Asia,
77.
efflets of, 57, 84, 161.
Lord's Prayer, 73.
Lower class obtuse, 161.
Icebergs, 227.
Ideas, controlling of, 308.
force of, 178, 239.
force of Mohammedan, 187.
impelling and resisting, 198.
indigenous, 137.
new, resistance to, 306.
progress of, 305.
Imimi,gration, American, 101.
Immobility of institutions, 58.
Impressment, 102.
Inca, Peruvian, 96.
India, conquest of, 151.
emigration to, 103.
inertness of, 121.
Indians, American, 96.
their conversion, 159.
Individual analogy wvith nation, 13,16.
emigration, 104.
mode of development, 61.
relations in society, 258.
Indo-Eiropeans, 40, 41,134.
Industrial art, Arabian, 115.
Insanity, 46.
Instinct and intelligence, 243.
Institutions, political changes of, 59.
Intellect, national organization of, 248.
Intellectual education, 292.
fieedom, 236.
Intercommunication, 82.
lonians on primary element, 301.
Irish emigration, 103.
Italian, modern, 111.
Italy, its aspirations, 176.
1\.
Macaulay, qu otation f  rom, 290.
Machiavelli's social division, 94.
Ma         donna born in Palestine, 114.
Magellan circumnavigates earth, 89.
Magianism, 200.
effect on Jews, 2902.
Magnetic neecdle,  2      30.
Magyars, thei r  emigration, 104.
Man can not resist clhange, 79.
emancipated from agents, 28.
influenced by climate, 77.
weiglht of food of, I'5.
Manchester, introduction of cotton to,
122.
Manichlxism, 203.
Manifest destiny, 265, 312.
MNarinier-'s compass, variation, 230.
Material and menta,l changes, 158.
Matter and Force, 20.
indestructibility of, 18.
Meclhanical  philosophy, its develop    lllCIlt, 128.
Memnon, statue of, (;5.
Men modified by climate, 48, 56.
Mendicant orders, 195.
Mental delusion, cause of, 183.
MerIcdi-lional track emigration, 144.
Messianic idea, 207, 210.
Jerusalem, 211.
Jewish  physicians, thelcir  influence,
303.
JewNs, color of, 40.
ilellenizing, 208.
Ie.ssiaLnic idea, 199.
no art aimong, 209.
Journalism, American, 86, 167.
its influence, 94.
Justinian, wars of, 110.
wars affect population, 146.
K.
Klhalifs of the West, 191.
Killing of land, 84.
INDEX.
I.
J. 
INDEX.
AMeteorolo,gy, 216.
Mexico, its civilization, 97.
Mexicans used cotton, 116.
Migration, internal American, 166.
to the South, 169.
Mind well balanced, 45.
Miracles of intelligence, 296.
Roman, 294.
Mirror, mag,ical, 241.
MIissionary exertions, 158.
Mississippi, forcing of mouth of, 297.
valley population, 176.
Mohammed, 181.
illusions of, 182.
victories of, 112.
Mohammedan philosophy, 192,193.
MIohammedanism, progress of, 188.
Monogamy produces families, 114.
Monosyllabic language, 138.
Monsoons, cause of, 216.
Montesquieu, valuation of man, 147.
Moorish art and science, 116.
MAoors in Spain, 190.
MIoral and intellectual progress, 298.
Morality, 175.
Morals, stationary quality of, 291, 299.
Motion, the value of, 90.
Mountains, plants upon, 38.
Mulattoes, their number, 132, 163.
Multiplicity of worlds, 302.
Murdoch invents locomotives, 126.
Museum of Alexandria, 301.
Muslin, 117.
Pacific coast mountains, 49.
railroad, 91.
States, emigration to, 91.
States, policy of, 172.
Paganism, its destruction in Rome, 311.
Pali, 134.
Paper, consumption of, 281.
invention of, 118.
Parthenon, 141.
Patristic philosophy, 224.
Paul's inventions, 123.
Peasantry impenetrable to knowledge,
160.
Penny post, 284.
Pentateuch, 204.
Periodicity, its nature, 23.
Perpetual motion, 128.
Persons and particles, relation of, 259
Peru, its civilization, 97.
Phantoms, 185.
Phlarisees and Sadducees, 202, 208.
uPhilosophy, its advantages, 81.
systems of change, 310.
NPhysical action, its uniformity, 27.
Plants and animals, relation of, 21.
condensations from air, 19.
Nasturtium, 39.
National development, 23,
homogeneousness, 107.
intellect organized, 248
interior motion, 91.
Nations, cause of their 
110.
not isolated forms, G1.
transitory forms, 11.
Nature, book of, 238.
conquest of, 211.
p resses on society, 30.
unclhangeability of, 217
Navy, American, 240.
Nebuchadnezzar, conquest
Ne-gro slavery, 131.
a fetish isworshiper, 138.
323
Negro problem in America, 163.
Nervous system, 244.
New England, climate of, 51.
Newspapers, effect of, 86.
Newton, 127, 301".
Nia,ara, Cataract of, 49.
Nile, its inundations, 66.
North and South, character of, 53.
Northern States, races of, 165.
Notes of music, 218.
Numerals in various langua,es, 41.
11
0.
Obelisks, Egyptian, 64.
Odium theologicum, 237.
Opinions, action and reaction of, 301.
Opium eating, 186.
Order and progress, 58.
Organic series, 242.
Organization, intellectual, in China,
272.
of the world, 250.
Oriental life unchangeable, 76.
Over-population, its effects, 103.
P.
N.
modification, 
324
Plants, control of climate over, 28.
Plato, 263.
Plotinnis, superstition of, 301.
Plutarch on Roman marriage, 110.
Pole star, 66.
Political differentiation, 254.
results of machinery, 12'9.
Population determined by lawv, 156.
laws of, 145.
resistances, 152.
slave, 132.
theory of, 146.
variations in England, 151.
Polygamy, effects of, 113.
in Utah, 173.
Post-office, 85.
Poverty, effect of on population, 154.
Power-loom, 124.
Prairies, their vegetation, 50.
Prakrit, 134.
Preaching, 276.                                       
Predestined effects, 26.
Pre-historic researches, 134.
Press, 281.
Primitive trace, 246.
Primogeniture, 98.
Printers in England, 284.
Prostitution organized, 155.
Public and private relations, 261.
locomotion, necessity of, 86.
schools in China, 83.
Puritan emigration, 101.
Revolutionarp   impulses unsafe, 59.
Riots against machinery, 122.
Roman Church, its mistake, 280.
empire, 80, 92.
example to America, 92.
population, decrease of, 148.
system, its error, 298.
Romans, adulteration of, 163.
disappearance of, 108.
Rome, Papal, opposes science, 212.
social corruption of, 109.
Roof, man living under, 55.
Saguntum, 99.
Sandy desert, America n,  79.
Saracens conquer Spain, 189.
Schools,  273.
Science, Arabian, 115.
opposition to, 233.
organizes  the pworld,              250.
protection of  in Ameri ca,  235.
Sea, description of, 219.
unknown in Central Asia, 41.
Seasons, their   influence, 24.
Sebastopol, 210.
Seeds,  their origin,  19.
Self-multil)lying social force, 94.
Shemetic races, no art, 140.
Silk brought from China, 73.
Skin of man, 40.
and skull, changes of, 106.
Skull, its typical form, 43.
Sky, 214.
Slave population, 132.
states, their political necessities, 312.
women, 133.
Slaves, American, their conduct, 133.
first imported, 131.
Slavery, Saracen, influence on, 115.
end of, 297.
Social divisions, three, 94.
progress, nature of, 60.
strata, the lowver, 47.
Society pressed on by Nature, 60.
Sounds, nature of, 12, 217.
South, climate of more equable, 52.
Southern blood-admixturc, 169.
climate, effects on man, 54.
cross, 66.
hemisp)]:ere, 29.
States, HiVhitney's gin, 130.
Races, effect of mingling, 161.
European, their origin, 145.
progress of, 157.
Radcliffe, inventions of, 124.
Railways, English, 87.
transference of, 88.
Rain, 225.
drops, course of, 17.
making, 139.
Rainy days, 52.
Reason, authority of, 309.
Reel, winding on, 37.
Religion, unanimity in, 108.
Renovation of the body, 14.
Republic, origin of, 263.
Resistance of ideas, 179.
to population, 153.
Revelation, two volumes of, 281.
INDEX.
S.
R. 
INDEX.
Southern States, races of, 164.
Spanish emigration, 96,
Saracens, 1 90.
Spectroscope, 232.
Spinal cord, 245.
Sphinxes, 64.
Spinning, 119.
Spring, phenomena of, 19.
Stability, mnode of attaining, 250.
political, 58.
Stagnant condition of Asia, 70.
Statesmanship determines population,
156.
State sovereignty, 313.
Steam, nature of, 222.
engine, 121, 222, 225.
political pow er of, 130.
Steel, origin of, 73.
Stereoscope, 232.
Stevenson perfects locomotive, 127.
Succession of worlds, 302.
Sun determines periodicity, 24.
Superstition, extinction of, 293.
indigenous, 139.
Sy-mmetry of brain, 46.
Syrian idolatry, 199.
War, uses of, 160, 251.
Water, composition of, 223.
restoration to the sea, 18.
Waterfall, its peculiarities, 15.
Watt's inventions, 124, 151.
Wa-es, nature of, 12.
West, its topography, 5)0.
Western emigration, 167.
Whale, 25.
Whitney's gin, 130.
Wind raising, 139.
Women, exclusion of, 114.
in Asia and Europe, 113.
social position of, 270.
Wonders of science, 232.
Woolen in England, 121.
Worship of beasts, 162.
Writing, alphabetical, 219.
Wyatt's inventions, 123.
Tacitus, quotation from, 148.
Talent, fostering of native, 250.
given by God, 249.
Tartars, their emigration, 104.
Tax on travel impolitic, 86.
Telegraph, electric, 231.
Telescope, 232.
Tempests, cause of, 216.
Theological odiumn, 237.
seminaries, 278.
Theology organizes the world, 250.
Thought-degeneration, 111.
progress of, 306.
Thread winding on a reel, 37.
Tornadoes, 2'16.
Tournefort on plants, 38.
Transmigration, 22.
Transplantation of man, 105.
Tribal emigration, 104.
Tribes, effects of their mixture, 106.
Tropics, plants at, 38.
Turks, their invasion, 104.
TIIE END.
325
Tvpe, human, its chan,es, 56.
Tyre, colonies of, 99.
U.
Unchangeability of institutions, 58.
United States, climate of, 51.
description of, 48.
population, 146, 163.
total immigration, 103.
Unitv, doctrine of, 143.
edct of in America, 177.
of opinion in science, 308.
ofsouls, doctrine of, 193.
Universe, human destiny of, 307.
Utah, 172.
V.
Vaccination, 156.
Valley, Mississippi, 49.
Variation, line of no, 231.
Vermont, 165.
Virginia cherry, 39.
planter, 168.
Voltaic battery, 223, 229.
Von Biir, law of, 256.
W.
T.
Z.
Zones of American population, 78.
of plants, 39.  
Dralper's IntellecTual Develojiment
of Europe.
A HISTORY OF THE INTELLECTUAL DEVELOPMENT
OF EUROPE. Fourth Edition. By) JOHN WILLIAM DRAPER,
M.D., LL.D., Profefsor of Chemiftry and Phyfiology in the
Univerfity of New York, Author of a "Treatise on Human
Phyfiology," "Thoughts on American Civil Policy," Text-Books
on Chemiftry and Natural Philosophy, &c. 8vo, Cloth, $5 oo.
The aim of this book is to show that the Civilization of Europe has not
proceeded in an arbitrary manner, or by chance, but that it has passed through
a determinate succession of stages, and has been developed according to nat
ural law.
The autlhoi's mode of treating the subject is altogether from a scientific
point of view, and hence he is led to the consideration of many of those questions that have attracted public attention of late years so strongly.   In this
respect, the work presents very great novelty; yet it is composed in so popular
a style as to render it suitable not only for persons who delight in philosophical
reading, but likewise for students of history everywhere.
In the United States at the present moment its publication can not but be
acceptable. Though written before our present troubles began, it is full of
principles and suggestions that every thoughtful reader will connect with the
great events now transpiring. It also, from the history of the past, in no indistinct manner foreshadows our future.
Scientific opinions are steadily exercising an ever-increasing power in Modern Civilization. They are beginning to modify political institutions. The
work of Dr. Draper is the first attempt that has been made to describe their
rise and progress, and how it is that in recent times they have acquired such
a wonderful influence.  A growing want of some authentic exposition of them
has long been felt among intelligent readers.   That want is here supplied,
with the advantage that ideas too generally serving only to provoke contention
are presented in a temperate manner, and discussed with a candor that can
not fail to command respect.
Extracts from Foreign Critical Notices.
It is one of the not least remarkable achievements in the progress of the positive philosophy
that have yet been made in the English tonguie. A noble andl even magnificent attempt to
frame an induction from all the recorded phenomena of European, Asiatic, and North African
history.  T'lhe strongly human sympathy and solicitude pervading this book is one of its most
entrancing charms.  Unaccustomed though a reader might be to scientific habits of thought, or
uninterested in the gradual elaboration of eternal rules and principles, here lie can at least disport himself amid noble galleries of historical paintings, and thrill again at the vision of the
totiching epochs that go to form the drama of the mighty European past.  This is no dry enuimeration of names and dates, no mere catalogue of isolated events and detached pieces of
heartless mechanism. Rather does this work come to us as a mystic harmony, blending into 
2       -)oDajper's Intellectutal -Development of Europe.
one the treasured records of unnumbered histories and biographies, the accumulaited stores
of sciences the most opposed, and erudition the most incongruous, now descending into slow
and solemn depths of tone, as sin, cruelty, intolerance, form the theme, now ag.in lost in unapproachable laptures of sound, as true greatness, endurance, self-control, are reflected in the
grand turninig-points of European story.
Tile book of Dr. Draper is eminently encyclopiedic.  It ransacks every accredited science,
all the most recent discoveries, and every independent  source of historical information.
W'hat Comte slhowed might and ought to be done for the whole world of Man, whlat  llr.
Buckle commenced for Lngeland, S           cotland,   l'rance, and Spain, Dr. Draper has effected for tihe
whole of Europe. The gigantic vastness of the task is almost paralysing, contained as is the
result in a very moderate space, but it is done none the less carefully and thoro ughly.
All the latest researches in history, all the most recent discoveries in the realms of geology,
mechanical            science, natural sciences and language, every minute p'articular that can explain
or illustrate the general progress of'll the European races from the most primiitive ages, are
accurately and copiously detailed in their several relations.  Nor is the autlor witlo     unt sclh an
art of representation as  can le nder a book not only such as we ought to read, but also such as
we like to read.- W'estiniister Review.
We proceed now to the agi eeable task of giving some slight idea of the merits of this magnrificent woik.  It is pre-eminecitly a practical book.  The application of its arguments, its
erudition, and its proofs to the controversies i nd the needs of the social state of the present can
be mistaken by no one.'T'is great thene is well and worthily handled by Diaper.  To this
end the efforts of many of the high st miids of the day are converging, effects at once and
causes of the pr ogress of historical science.  Our author thinks that a mal must be satisfied if
only his book lives a little longer than himself. But the great generalizations lie pr opounds will
not be so  speedily surpassed.  It is not, therefore, to be wondered at that the highest problenms
of anthropology should be so well handled in the United States.  WVe (ccept this book as an
e rnest of what we may expect from the intellectual genius of that nation.-Atitlropological
levietw.
This book is the most instructive and complete of all that have been yet written wi,h a
similar amibit.on.  It is no light commendation to say that its execution is not altogether unequal to its magni tude.     If it were equal, the world would place Dr. Draper on one of the
very highest pi5nn'cles of intellectual a,chievesiment. Ilis tenacity and conmpleteness of grasp
makes  itself felt for the most part on every page.  It must be admitted that this treatise is one
of the best attempts to treat the entire history of man on a scientific thieory.-Athenceuos.
In the special portions of his IlistoWy Professor Draper displays remarkable isndustry, vigor,
and skill.  Hlis notrration is accurate anid graphic, and his grasp of historic,tl truth powerful
and tenacious.  Itis work has thus a reasl value as a comprehensive summary of facts, apart
from the particular theories of philosophy which it is intended to uphlold. -Saturday leview.
This wvork must speak for itself; and to those who admire clear aidl comprehensive details,
oxpressed in elegant languaige, and supported by consecutive arguments, it will be esteemed as
having completely exhalusted the subject it is intended to e'ucidatc.  It munt take a popular
no less than a permanent stand.-LI-ell's i[eekly M[essenger.
nVe heartily admire and recommenid this book.  It is the work of a really original mind,
and is exectlted withl very great literary skill.  The style is excellently adapted to thle character
if the workc.  And every reader wlho sies the progress of mankind by the powerful cross light
thrown on it by Dr. Dra.per wi ll see wi    that lie never saw before, and whatdhe liad seen before from a new point of view.  In conclusion we would say that these volumes must not be
supposed to be at all heavy reading on the c  ontrary, they are very amusing.-Spectator.
This book is an emphatic testimony to the great truth proclaimed by an older and a better
book-that while the wol Id by wisdom  kn ows not God, yet it knows that lihumani affairs are govesned not by chance but by law, and therefore by the Divine will, of which law is the expression.-Chl-i.stii t il devcate asd l~evied.
The histor —writing in these v olumes is admirably done.  Regarded in this light they bear a
high value.'lhe reader's interest can, Tot but grow as lie proceeds, since the style is direct
and clear, and the thought always of a kind to arouse and repay reflection.-London Daily
\'eis.
There is enoughl in the work to engage the attention and command the admiration of the
reader.-Losidon Iomne.News.
Extracts from Critical Notices.
This is a work of whichl the brief space now at our command will not enable us to give the
measure.  It covers the entire history of Eluropean pi-ogress.  The author's endeavor is to
trace the action of primordial law to the general development of the race, and in the successive stages of g,rowth and declin2 that have marked the collective life of portions of the
race.  To have made the attempt is of itself a great merit and a high achievement.  This
work must take its place as anong the nost truly original profound, and instructive contributions of thli ige in the department of speculative pliilosophy. —oilth A7siericasit Revietw. 
Z)riper's I)ttelleetual -)evelopmeeit of Europe.                                        3
We count the " Ilistory of the Intellectual Development of Europe" one of the most import ant conitributions wicl  has been made  for years to the study of the philosophy of history;
aild we hlive no doubt tht     vlile Professr Dr.tper's thleory iluay be disputed by solme, the grettt
merits of the work and its imiportance will be acknowledged wherever it is read.-.Veto  ]'ork
Evenifyt Post.
Professor Draper las undertaken  a great task, but in our judgment he  has wholly and
worthily accomplisled it.
It is gratifying that, a-imid aill the turmoil and distraction of civil war, such a work as this
can be safely liunched upon  the sea of publication.  It is, in the strongest meattitig of the
term, a masterly production.  All is clear, well defined, perspicuous, and the  book will add
largely to thle already wvell-won fame of the authlor.-Colttitercial Advertiser.
It is a powe fitlly-writteni and closely-reasoned book, and is entitled to a place with the works
of liallaio, Gtlizot, and Buckle. — \ec  I-ork IIe ald.
Professor Draper, who is probably one of the most deep thlinking and erudite students of
both plysicst and metaphytics of the present (lay, las  in this wvork accomltlished a task which
no other au thor of our          time las ventured to uindertake as a whole, and in a thoroughl and systematic manner.  5I'tny hav-e gone over a po:tion of the ground, and analyzed certain histoirical epocls w -ithl reference to  their b -aring upon intellectutal progress and development, but
these lave been merely links in the chain'shicl lie has succeeded in completing and connectinsg together.
This is a book which every one should read who   aspires to learn not only the facts of history,
but their moral and application.-Coistieo cial Bul'letist.
This is intended as the completioin of the authlor's very able work on IIuman Physiology.
It ev-inces the same profottund and comprelhensive views and exteisive reQeserclt.  It is presenting a ner aspect of humanitv, and the idea  is conceived withl the samne iitgeiuity, and  illustr.tted by a det.il of esidenlece ittli the intdustry of Vico and llerder.'Tile Chirch l history of
Luiope is treated in a tone of respect for Cristi.nity, emphatically distinguislitiig between it
atid ecclesiatstical organizatiots, and thlerefore entirely Pirotestant;  too consistently so to satisfy some dogmatists, Protestant as well as Catholic.-Christia7  lieister.
Profes-or Draper's " IIiumain Physiology" has taken  inquestioned rank as one of the most profound and stugge               s        tive works of the age. Tle o)jec t of tlis was to treat of the  developmlent of
mian as an inlividul         to. Tre pre-ent  woik treats of tle development of the race.   NVarburton's " Disvine Leg  tion" is per hltp the only otlier book in tvlicI scll  an itmmense mass of learning and resea rclh is expended in tihe elucidation a        Snd defense of two or three propositions, whlichl
call be                  stated in    as many  scores of words.-Amtericon Publishet's Circular  astd Literary
Gazette.
It traverses almost the whole rang2 of literature and science, of himan thought and progre —s, for  ipwtv-rd of three thousand year; and this in no superficial way, but its the spirit of
scientific investigation, and with one object ever in view.
Aside froml its ma.in scope, there are p rtictular ections of this book which ai-e of great valie
to the lon-scientific leader.  If ote'vold stdy the progress of th              e ieces in t heir relation
to liumanity, n,ot eOei AV'lsewell's l Sitoty of the Intuctive Scie ces will be so helpfiul to him as
t)i. I)-aper's Ci:tipters on Astronomy, the  listoty of the ELarth, Animal Life, the Organic Series, &c. -Cosltyegcttiotlaitst.
Schlolars will be greatly interested in this book;  ind( though they may  dissent from  the
tleoiy,,i ll acknowledge the author's industry and ability, and admire the perspicuity of its
style and the vigor of its thottgIt.-Ziotz's IIes cutl.
'Tle  ery  aluable and interesting work of Piof. Draper frankly accepts the doctrine that itse
idevelopment b,tl of nnimal a-d intellectual life depends on physical conditionsi, tind asserts
tiis position witlt a fertility of argument  and  a wealth of illustration which give it a comtnding rak among simi lar tr                     e'tises.    We can not cll to mind an nutlior wshio hls stated
i; sitli equial force, or ishown himself so thorotughly master of that varie ty of scientific proof
whlich was needed to fortify it.  There is at onc't fr,eslom of handlitng, and a cl(-au, earnest,
r,verent tone in tle discussion.'I'he general ske tch in the beginning of those piy-icl conditi,,ns wlicil have shaped the historic life of lt:uiope is utnsirpassted in clearnirss of outline and
comprehensive'vigor of grasp.  And the closing porti)nn, whichl contains the scientific analogies
that jtustify his leading position-tlat the t   rue doctrine of history or ethnology must be founde(l on Plysiy —ology —has the independent force and va lue of an original,-igtintent.
't'le  same vigorous independence of tloug,ht and  fac     ile wealth of illustration appear in the
tr-atment of historical periods, especially in th9 a dvance of plhilosophy and science.   Massive
g:,n,ersldization,                      tith a command of dtail  that 2ives v itality  ttnd interest to all tSe parts-the
Ma~gnetizit g of facts by a- powetful etirr,nt of tlioglht, is the hiiglhest qualtity that can be dectn(  in: w     ork of this kind, and they,,re found  to a  rare and high degree  in this p-es't tre'~tise.    Ve should point to it soosei thln to anv other we              could name, to do  the  imc,rtant service of cr.istallizittq in the in d of a thoglhtftil lperson the loose aggregate of facts
g    othresel up in the cotirse of mteci destultory reading before the ago of twenty-five.   And  the
rather, bectii- its independent and cour'tgeous letmper is not ittarred, so far as se can observe,
by any irreverence or undue defiance of tone.-Christiass Examiticr. 
4          -Drctpei,'s I)_tellectzti(l.Developime)zt of  Etfcrope.
In a nmerely passing notice we can not expect to do justice to a work of such llmagnitutde;
enough to iiote its leading idea, to sketchll its plan, and cordially to commend it as rich in instruction and powerful in thought.
No reade r, whether satisfied or doubtfil of the soundness of this theory, can fail to be impressed by the comprehensive knowledge and intellectual vigor with which it is set forthl.,'. Y. Albiom.
The work supplies a vacuum not before filled.  W'hcewell's Ilistory of Science is the nearest
approaclh to it, but is to) narrow, by reason of its techlnical clhairacter, to have met the demanid.
The author has succeeded to a very remarkable extent in giving interest, and even vivacity
and picturesqueness, to that dryest of 111ll historic.tl presentmenlts, a condensed statement covering large and disconnected tracts of time.-Lt,htherait Obser)ver.
This *ork is properly the complement to Dr. Draper's " Iuman Physiology."  In that work
man was considered as an individual, whose growth and decline are governied by fixed and
invariable lawrs.   In this he is considered in his social relttions as a component part  of a
nation or people.  The proposition vwhichl D DrDraper undertakes to demonstrate is, " that Focial advancement is as completely under the control of law as is bodily growth: the life of
a-n individua l  is a miniature of the life of a nation."  T o demonstrate the majesty of laiv in the
history of nationis, the autllhor brings an accumulation of leaining and a  ealthli of illustration
for which we know of only two parallels-t Warbirton's "Divine Legation of   loses" and
Buckl's'11 Iistory of Civilizatio n."   Di. 5Var burton's immense lealning  as exausted in
maintaining a proposition which nobody denied, with little bearing upoII the disputable one,
which wa,s essenti.l to the validity of Iis argu ment, while 1tuckle was oppiessed by the very
weiht of his illustrative examples.   Di. Draper moves with ease and vigor tnder the weight
of his migihty pinoply.  lie undertakes to give the history of the development of Europe,
almost conteniptuiouisly ignoring the petty struiggles of kings and emperors, touchiug upon them
only when they are exponents of thoughtsl    and i deas.   The grand conelusions are, that " the
organization of public intellect is the end toward vhich European Civilization is tendin-;"
that "Lurope is no,, entering on its mature phase of national l             ife;"i and tat  i   an   ll-im
portant particular, the prospect of Europe is bri ght.  Clina is p:ssing thle last sttge of civil
life in tlte cheerlessnes of Buddlism; Eutrope aiproachles it t         i,'u Il'istianity."  WVe are
confident that this.Iume ill be rec   ognized as the great plhilosoplhical work of the age.luarper's' Itazine.
Among the contributions to philosophic thought that have appeared  within the list few
years, few p    resent stronger claiums lipoai the attention of intelligent students than the present
w. ork.  Thle title opetis at once the most imposing problems that can engage tle human  mind
-the progires of nian-the conditions of his unfolding-the forces which impel it, and the obstacles which imnpede it-the  course and method of hiii-an evolution-these are the grave
questions discussed in this original and elaborate volume.
The expoeiti,,n of the influence of the Arabs and Jews upon the intellectual development
of Europe, of the Italian svstem of civil and churclh polity in the 1 uiopeali,ge of Faitt, and
of the rise of i,deplcndent inq,iry; the struggle of advancing opinions with ecclesiasticism,
thle olrigin of scienes, tle extension of lhuniri knowledge snl tlie consequent griadual regeneration of society which characteri zed the  Europeani age of i'eason-thlese form contributions to
the histo,ry of intellectual progress alike remarkable in wealth of erudition and compreliensive
vigor ofstatement. Th   e peculiar claims of Professor Draper's work to an emient pl)lace anong,
historic cunpositions are chiefly thosse    ic  arise from his view of the subject as a man of
science.  At once and w%ith out lisitation hlie lays down the broad principle tliat the developmrent both  of aim,al nnd intellectual life depends on physical conditions, and lle  has fortified
this positiorn witli a power of reasoning and a copiousness of illtstration which have made the
argument peculiarly his own.  llis wok intieoduces more of nature into histoiy thlan any of its
predecessors. R liing  to tlhe clear and  teady conception of a comprelhensive immutable order
in nature, he regards the development of the human mind as but part of tlhat order, to be intei-preted only in connection with the all-pervading scheme.   It is written in a singularly
clear and attractive style, often rising into a ivid eloiquence. I          ndeed there runs through it
. vei.n of ventine ploetry which shows that the cultivation of exact science is not necessarily
hostile to iuiagination and a deep sense of beauty.-X. Y. J ribtite.
PUBLISHED BY
HARPER & BROTHERS, FRANKLIN SQUARE, NEW YORK.
Sent by Mail, postage free, on receipt of the price. 
"INCOMPARABLY THE BEST WORK ON THE SUBJECT."
Draper's Physiology.
HUMAN PHYSIOLOGY, STATICAL AND DYNAMICAL;
or, The Conditions and Course of the Life of Man: Being the
Text of the Lectures delivered in the Medical Department of the
University. By JOHN WILLIAM DRAPER, M.D., LL.D., Profefsor
of Chemitry and Phyfiology in the University of New York;
Author of "Thoughts on the Future Civil Policy of America,"
"A Hiftory of the Intelletual Development of Europe," Text    Books on Chemiftry and Natural Philosophy, &c. Illuftrated by
nearly 300 Fine Woodcuts from Photographs. 8vo, 650 pages,
Cloth, $5 oo; Sheep, $5 50.
The favorable reception which has been given to this work by the Public
and the Medical Profession, both in America and Europe, proves how completely it has accomplished its object of bringing the science on which it treats
to the comprehension of the general reader without any sacrifice of its high
scientific position.   As a representation of the present state of Physiology,
embodying all the recent foreign discoveries in a form not otherwise accessible
to the student, it has been adopted as a text-book in a majority of American
Colleges.
Great, however, as its success in that respect has been, the favor extended
to it by the reading and educated classes generally is still more striking. They
have appreciated the manner in which it brings knowledcge on a subject of the
highest importance to the well-being of society to the easy comprclecnsion of
persons not familiar with medical matters. They have found it to be a book
not alone adapted to the University or College, but suited to the instruction
of every head of a family. The numerous photographic engravings it contains tend greatly to a clear illustration of the various topics it discusses, enabling those who have only the opportunity of casual study to follow the Author in his descriptions without any difficulty.
Of all the sciences, none comes more closely home to us than Physiology.
It explains to us how "fearfully and wonderfully we are made," teaches us
how the various parts of our system act in a state of health, and enables us
to understand the causes of our ailments and diseases.  There is no class of
society, and, indeed, no individual, who may not profitably become acquainted
with it.  It is, therefore, to the general reader, as well as the profession, that
this book is offered. 
)Drciper's Phlysiology.
A book that is full of interest, containing many striking views and novel experimental illus tratio)n,s.  We make our sincere acknowledgments to the author for the fresh contributions he
has fturnilshed to our knowledge of the laws of life, and the new impulse he has imparted to the
study of its mysteries. It is full and thorough beyond all previous treatises that we have seen.
As to descriptive detail and the entire theory of organization, it comprehends the latest dis coveries and embodies the latest conclusions of science.- North American leview.
It is an original and interesting work, rich in experiment, fertile in suggestion, and schlolar like in composition.- Boston  edaicsal and Surgical Journal.
We risefronim the survey of thisworkwithan impression of its great power and valule.  We are
satisfied that Draper's Physiology will take an important place at once, and will add one more
to the number of American text-books which may be placed side by side with the best of those
obtained fi'om abroad.-_Philadelphia Medical Examniner.
Dr. Draper's Physiology is perhaps the greatest work ever issued from  the American press.
It ranks with the kindred (German) work of Lehman, but is much nmore readable and plain.
The reading and studying of it is wor th the reading and studying all the medical practices of
the last quarter of a century.-St. Louis Medical asid Susigical Journtal.
Written in an easy, fluent style, it is a work that deserves to be in the library of every
student.-Losndosi  Atlhetteue.
A profound and comprehensive treatise of man's physical life through all its changes-a work
highly honorable to himself and his profession.-Londoi E'clectic lReviei.
This work has all the graphic distinctness of oral teaching.-Londol E,conontist.
As a book for occasional reference it will be prized by every well-informed person.-London
Standard.
Its arrangement is original, and in its width of view it stands first of our physiological
treatises.-Lotidos MlIedical Tisies and Gazette.
Probably the best work of the kind before the public.-CChristian Chroniicle (Philadelphia).
Compact and lucid, it embraces an immense amount of most interesting and valuable matter.
-Cong,egacttioiialist.
The great amount of information logically arranged and clearly stated in this comprehensive
yet compact work renders it pre-eminently fit to be adopted as a text-book in all institutions
of learning in which Physiology forms pial t of a course of itstruction, and general readers will
find it the most interesting and useful compendium of the science forprivate  ltudy. —3ew York
Coitssiericial Advertiser.
It constitutes an admirable book for students while in attendance on lectures; at the same
time it will be found well adapted to thie general student, who is without an oral teacher, and
yet is seeking to know and understand  the physical laws of his being.-Americasi Medical
Gazette.
Far above elementary works in scope and character, it seems fitted to secure a wide circulation.-Lons1dot Exantiner.
It would do excellent service as a text-book in schools and colleges, and is a valuable contriblition to every library in the country. —New York Chroisicle.
It is the largest and most complete treatise on Physiology ever published in our country, and
will be received and ho nore d as a standard of high authority in colleges and academies, and
among professional men.-Philadelphia Chlristian Obser-ver.
A complete exposition of the science in its present state, embracing the latest views published in France, i ngland, and Germany, adapted to professional and non-professional readers.Hartford Relgiots He  ald.
Beyond question the best presentation of this great subject accessible to the mass of American students.-Richmond Central Presbyterian.
We should be sorry to see its knowledge confined to the collegiate class, when a diffusion of
more accurate plhysiological knowledge, even among our educated classes, is exceedingly desirable.-Pi otestant Chut chmtan.
The Pupils of our public and private schools, who have been well drilled in the school phlysiologies, will take great interest in pursuing the subject in this more extended treatise.-J cniphis Mfedical Recorder.
It can not fail to be useful to the physician and student, and deserves a place in colleges and
libr-aries.-Ltthesratl Observer.
To the scholar it will exhibit the progress of the physical sciences in connection with the
human organization. To all it will convey, in a readable form, the doctrines and facts of
physiology.-Lautcaster Independent Bahig.
PUBLISHED BY HARPER & BROTHERS, NEW YORK.
Sent by mail, postage fiee, to any part of the United States, on receipt of the price.
2 
STANDARD LIBRARY BOOKS
PUBLISHED BY HARPER & BROTHERS, NEW YORK.
1   IIARPER & BRPOTHIER8  vill send their Books by ]fail, postage free, to any part of the
United States, on receipt of the Price.
Ca  HIARPER's CAT,', OGnE and neiv TRADE-LIST may be obtained yratnitotsly, on application
to the Publishers personally, or by letter, enlclosiny Five Cents.
PALGRAVE'S ARABIA. Narrative of a Year's Journey through
Central and Eastern Arabia (1862-1863). By WILLIAM GIFFORD
PALGRAVE.  With Portrait and Map.   2 vols., Crown 8vo.  (I/i
P] ess.)
NAPOLEON'S  LIFE OF  CIESAR.   The Hiftory of Julius Cesar.
By His Imperial Majesty NAPOLEON III. Vol. I. A new Elegant
Library Edition, with Wide Margins, on Superfine Calendered Paper,
with Portrait and Colored Maps. 480 pages, 8vo, Cloth, $2 50.
[This is the only Edition with the Maps.]
MOTLEY'S DUTCH REPUBLIC. The Rise of the Dutch Re  public.  A  History.  By JOHN LOTHROP MOTLEY, LL.D., D.C.L.
With a Portrait of William of Orange. 3 vols., 8vo, Cloth, $9 oo.
MOTLEY'S UNITED NETHERLANDS. History of the United
Netherlands: from the Death of William the Silent to the Synod of
Dort. With a full View of the English-Dutch Struggle against
Spain, and of the Origin and Destruction of the Spanish Armada.
By JOHN LOTHROP MOTLEY, LL.D., D.C.L., Author of "The Rise
of the Dutch Republic." 2 vols., 8vo, Cloth, $6 oo.
CURTIS'S HISTORY OF THE CONSTITUTION. History
of the Origin, Formation, and Adoption of the Constitution of the
United States. By GEORGE TICKNOR CURTIS. 2 vols., 8vo, Cloth,
$6 oo.
HILDRETH'S HISTORY OF THE UNITED STATES. FIRST
SERIES. From the First Settlement of the Country to the Adoption
of the Federal Constitution. SEcOND SERIES. From the Adoption of
the Federal Constitution to the End of the Sixteenth Congress.   6
vols., 8vo, Cloth, $I8 oo.
GROTE'S  HISTORY  OF  GREECE.    12 vols., l2mo, Cloth,
$18 oo. 
2       ILctrpec & _Beothers' Statclarcd Librar y Books.
MISS STRICKLAND'S QUEENS OF SCOTLAND. Lives of the
Queens of Scotland and English Princesses connected with the Regal
Succession of Great Britain. By AGNES STRICKLAND. Complete in
8Svols., 1 zmo, Cloth, $I 2 00.
GOODRICH'S BRITISH ELOQUENCE. Select British Elo  quence: embracing the best Speeches entire of the most eminent Or  ators of Great Britain for the last two Centuries: with Sketches of
their Lives, an Estimate of their Genius, and Notes, Critical and Ex  planatory.   By CHAUNCEY  A. GOODRICH, D.D., Professor in Yale
College. 8vo. Cloth, $4 00oo.
LOSSING'S FIELD-BOOK OF THE REVOLUTION. Pictorial
Field-Book of the Revolution; or, Illustrations by Pen and Pencil of
the History, Biography, Scenery, Relics, and Traditions of the War for
Independence. By BENSON J. LOSSING. z vols., 8vo, Cloth, $14 00oo.
THOMSON'S LAND AND THE BOOK. The Land and the
Book; or, Biblical Illustrations drawn from the Manners and Cus  toms, the Scenes and the Scenery of the Holy Land. By W. M.
THOMSON, D. D., Twenty-five Years a Missionary of the A.B.C.F.M.
in Syria and Palestine. With two elaborate Maps of Palestine, an
accurate Plan of Jerusalem, and several Hundred Engravings, repre  senting the Scenery, Topography, and Productions of the Holy Land,
and the Costumes, Manners, and Habits of the People. Two ele  gant large 1 2mo Volumes, Cloth, $5 00oo.
BRODHEAD'S HISTORY OF NEW YORK. History of the
State of New York. By JOHN ROMEYN BRODHEAD. First Period,
1609-1664. 8vo, Cloth, $3 00oo.
ABBOTT'S NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. The History of Na  poleon Bonaparte. By JOHN S. C. ABBOTT. With Maps, Wood  cuts, and Portraits on Steel. 2 vols., 8vo, Cloth, $10 oo.
ABBOTT'S NAPOLEON AT ST. HELENA; or, Interesting An  ecdotes and Remarkable Conversations of the Emperor during the
Five and a Half Years of his Captivity. By JOHN S. C. ABBOTT.
With Illustrations. 8vo, Cloth, $5 00oo.
ABBOTT'S FRENCH REVOLUTION. The French Revolution
of 1789, as viewed in the Light of Republican Institutions. By JOHN
S. C. ABBOTT. With Ioo Engravings. 8vo, Cloth, 85 oo. 
lliy()er & Br-others' Sta)t  t Libratu y Books.
AUTOBIOGRAPHY, CORRESPONDENCE, &c., of LYMAN
BEECHER, D.D. Edited by his Son, CHARLES BEECHER. With
Three Steel Portraits and Numerous Engravings on Wood. Com  plete in two vols. 12mo, Cloth, $5 oo.
ALFORD'S GREEK TESTAMENT. The Greek Testament:
with a critically revised Text; a Digest of Various Readings; Mar  ginal References to Verbal and Idiomatic Usage; Prolegomena; and
a Critical and Exegetical Commentary. For the Use of Theological
Students and Ministers. By HENRY ALFORD, D.D., Dean of Canter  bury. Vol. I., containing the 4 Gospels. 944 pp., 8vo, Cloth, $6 oo.
ANTHON'S CLASSICAL DICTIONARY: Containing an Account
of the principal Proper Names mentioned in Ancient Authors, and
intended to elucidate all the important Points connected with the
Geography, History, Biography, Mythology, and Fine Arts of the
Greeks and Romans, together with an Account of the Coins,Weights,
and Measures of the Ancients, with Tabular Values of the same.
Royal 8vo, Sheep, $6 oo.
SMITH'S NEW CLASSICAL DICTIONARY of Greek and Ro  man Biography, Mythology, and Geography. Numerous Corrections
and Additions.  Edited by CHARLES ANTHON, LL.D.  Royal 8vo,
Sheep, $5 oo.
SMITH'S DICTIONARY OF ANTIQUITIES. A Dictionary
of Greek and Roman Antiquities, from the best Authorities, and em  bodying all the recent Discoveries of the most eminent German Phi  lologists and Jurists. First American Edition, corrected and enlarged,
and containing also numerous Articles relative to the Botany, Miner  alogy, and Zoology of the Ancients. By CHARLES ANTHON, LL.D.
Royal 8vo, Sheep, $6 oo.
ANDREWS'S LATIN-ENGLISH LEXICON, founded on the larger
German-Latin Lexicon of Dr. WM. FREUND. With Additions and
Corrections from the Lexicons of Gesner, Facciolati, Scheller, Georges,
&c. Royal 8vo, Sheep, $7 50.
RIDDLE & ARNOLD'S ENGLISH-LATIN LEXICON, founded
on the German-Latin Dictionary of Dr. C. E. GEORGES. First Amer  ican Edition, carefully revised, and containing a copious Dictionary
of Proper Names from the best Sources.   By CHARLES  ANTHON,
LL.D. Royal 8Svo, Sheep, $5 oo.
3 
4       IIcrlerpe  & Birot]iers' Stanclar(d Library Books.
LIDDELL AND SCOTT'S GREEK-ENGLISH LEXICON.  Based
on the German Work of FRANcIS PASSOW. With Corrections and
Additions, and the Insertion, in Alphabetical Order, of the Proper
Names occurring in the principal Greek Authors, by HENRY DRIS  LER, M.A. Royal 8vo, Sheep extra, $7 50.
Y ONGE'S ENGLISH-GREEK LEXICON. Containing all the
Greek Words used by Writers of good Authority, in Chronological
Order, for every Word used; explaining the Construction, and giv  ing the Declension or Conjugation of each Word when Irregular,
and marking the Quantities of all doubtful Syllables.  Edited, with
large Additions, by HENRY DRISLER, M.A., Professor of Latin in
Columbia College, N. Y. Royal 8vo, Sheep extra. (I)t Press.)
ROBINSON'S GREEK LEXICON OF THE NEW TESTA  MENT. A Greek and English Lexicon of the New Testament.
By EDWARt) ROBINSON, D.D., LL.D., Professor of Biblical Literature
in the Union Theological Seminary, N. Y. A New Edition, Re  vised, and in great part re-written.   Royal 8vo, Sheep, $6 oo.
A CYCLOPEDIA OF COMMERCE AND COMMERCIAL
NAVIGATION. Edited by J. SMITH HOMANS, Corresponding
Secretary of the Chamber of Commerce of the State of New York,
and Editor of "The Bankers' Magazine and Statistical Register;"
and by J. SMITH HOMANS, Jr., B.S., Author of "An Historical and
Statistical Account of the Foreign Commerce of the United States."
Royal Octavo, 2000 pages, double columns, 8vo, $7 50; Sheep,
$8 oo; Half Morocco, $10 oo; 2 vols., Sheep, $10 co.
HARPER'S STATISTICAL GAZETTEER OF THE WORLD,
particularly describing the United States of America, Canada, New
Brunswick, and Nova Scotia. By J. CALVIN SMITH. Illustrated by
Seven Maps. Complete in one Vol., Royal 8vo, Cloth, $5 75.
BRANDE'S ENCYCLOPEDIA. A Dictionary of Science, Litera  ture, and Art: comprising the History, Description, and Scientific
Principles of every Branch of Human Knowledge; with the Deriva  tion and Definition of all the Terms in general use.  Illustrated by
numerous Engravings on Wood. 8vo, Sheep extra, $6 oo.
HELPS'S SPANISH CONQUEST. The Spanish Conquest in Amer  ica, and its Relation to the History of Slavery, and to the Government
of Colonies. By ARTHUR HELPS. 3 vols. Large 1 zmo, Cloth, $4 50.