Nature and Culture

by Harvey Rice

So recent as the year 1867, an aërolite of large dimensions fell in Tennessee, penetrating a hillside of rocky formation to the depth of twenty feet. It was seen at a great distance, and came hissing on its way like a planet on fire, and when it struck the earth, produced a shock like that of an earthquake. So intensely heated was it, that for three days after it fell it generated and sent up from the moist earth a dense column of steam, which rose and floated away like a cloud in the sky. When excavated, its mass was found to be composed principally of iron, and measured seven feet from apex to base, and ten feet in circumference. Fragments of it have been preserved, and may be seen at Washington, and in several collections of minerals belonging to scientific individuals. But where did it come from? Did it come from the sun, the moon, the earth, or from some exploded planet? or was it generated in the atmosphere? Though the question has not been satisfactorily answered, there are plausible reasons for believing that aërolites, and meteors generally, are the spontaneous production of atmospherical agencies. Physical forces are at work all over the earth, charging the atmosphere with the identical materials that compose the meteoric stone, or aërolite. Volcanoes emit their gases, and hurl with terrific force burning fragments of rock into the depths of the sky. The tornado, or land-spout, takes up in its grasp sand, with other solid material, and rotates it with such violence as to produce fusion of the mass, giving it a globular form and hurling it to an invisible height, and then leaving it to gravitate brilliantly and rapidly until it reaches the earth. This theory is confirmed by many facts, and especially by the occurrence of a land-spout near the village of Ossonval in France, where, on the 6th of July, 1822, some broken clouds, coming from different directions, and collecting over the sandy plain, formed a single cloud, which covered the heavens, when an elongated nether portion of it descended, presenting its vortex downward, and having its base in the cloud. It then became violent in its revolutions, and being driven by the wind, overturned buildings, uprooted trees, twirling them in the air with liberal quantities of sand and water, which it had scooped up in its course, when from its centre, amid sulphurous vapors, globes of fire were seen to issue, as if projected from an engine of terrific power, attended with a sound like that of heavy cannon discharged in the distance. Throughout its entire course it left the fearful traces of its devastation. The globes of fire which were projected from its centre, it may well be supposed, possessed all the characteristics of veritable aërolites, and were thus manufactured by electrical heat and fusion out of the earth-material lifted from the plain.

Not long since, there fell near Romney, Ind., an aërolite in a liquid, or molten state, which flew into fragments the moment it struck the earth's surface. The spot where it fell was deeply indented and scorched; and the material of which it was composed was found scattered about in the vicinity, having the appearance of cinders, yet moulded into the form of small spherical bodies varying in size from a buckshot to that of a cannon-ball. It is somewhat remarkable that in subjecting fractured portions of the cinders to intense heat, no perceptible odor was emitted, neither was the color nor weight changed. The fact that these cinders descended in spherical bodies would seem to indicate that the parent mass approached the earth in a state of fusion, projecting from its surface, as it revolved, detached fragments, which, taking a rotatory impulse, became its attendant satellites in accordance with planetary laws.

Among many other aërolites that have fallen in different parts of our country, one of considerable magnitude was seen to fall near Concord, Muskingum County, Ohio, on the 1st of May, 1860; it approached the earth with a brilliancy as vivid as the sun, and exploded when it struck. Several fragments of it were excavated while quite hot, one of which, weighing eleven pounds, has been deposited in the Historical Rooms at Cleveland. It is composed of ferruginous matter, and seems almost as heavy as pure iron.

It is impossible for us to comprehend, from the standpoint we occupy in this life, our real relations either to the past or to the present, much less to the future. Earth has her manifold wonders, yet they are but few when compared with the infinite wonders of the heavens. Vast as our solar system truly is, it may still be regarded as but a chandelier suspended in the entrance-hall of Nature's great temple. When we consider that infinite space has neither centre nor circumference, and that it is filled with stars, and that every star is a world inhabited like our own, and that there are still infinite numbers of stars whose light, though travelling at the rate of one hundred and eighty-five thousand miles a second ever since the dawn of creation, has not yet reached the earth, we are lost,—lost in wonder and amazement, lost in thought, still wanting a thought broad enough and strong enough to grasp the infinite. Who is there that would not, if he could, explore the untrodden yet brilliant domains of infinite space,—the garden of God, ever blossoming with golden flowers,—and thus acquire for himself divine wisdom? If we would become as gods, and walk with God, we must learn to partake the food, and drink the beverage, of the gods.

In physical science there is much that has a direct influence on the growth and vigor of moral science. In fact, Nature does much more for the welfare and education of man than he does for himself. The mountains elevate his thoughts, and teach him moral sublimity. The vast ocean, apparently shoreless, suggests to him the idea of eternity and a future life. The earthquake, the hurricane, and the lightning inspire him with a belief in the existence of a supreme Power, a divine Governor of the universe. Thus impressed with a sense of his own weakness and dependence, man naturally implores protection, and trusts in the beneficence and in the clemency of the great Invisible. Hence his faith, his hope, his aspirations. In this way was laid the primitive foundation of his creed and religious tendencies. And yet his weakest passion would seem to be his strongest,—a desire not only to perpetuate himself beyond this life, but to acquire superhuman power. It is for this that he struggles, erects altars, and solicits aid from visionary as well as from divine sources.

Whether the perfection of mankind be the end and aim of Nature, need not be questioned. It is evident that she regards man as a favorite, and for this reason solicits him to accept the lessons of wisdom which are ever falling from her lips. In the plenitude of her love she attempts to lead him upward into a broader and a holier sphere. If man was able to trace his descent and ascertain his origin, do you think he would find it in the ape, as Darwin affirms, or in the dust of the earth? Revelation replies, In the dust; and a sound philosophy confirms the fact.

Nature never stultifies herself, nor does she develop a new species of animal or plant from an existing species, but doubtless encourages "natural selection" in the line of each distinct species, and by so doing promotes progress in her grand scheme of attaining perfection; nor can it be doubted that from new conditions a new species may appear. In fact, every living thing is born of its appropriate conditions, and will continue to propagate its kind so long as its appropriate conditions exist. When conditions change, results change. In this way a new species of plant or animal may be, and perhaps often is, generated. The process is simply one of change in the relation of the requisite life-elements,—a process which results from the unceasing operation of a great natural law. In Nature there is nothing constant but change.

Life, in all its varieties, whether vegetal or animal, has a rudimental origin, traceable perhaps to a minute egg, cell, or spore, call it what you will, from which is evolved in due time a perfect plant or animal. But if asked whence is derived the egg, cell, or spore, we can only reply that they have their origin in certain primitive life-elements, which are brought into contact in a way so subtile as to elude the investigations of science. This life-law, whatever it may be, acts in reference to kind, and produces its kind. Nearly all forms of life have resemblances; and though we accept the doctrine of evolution, it does not follow that man was developed from an ape, or the bird from a flying-fish.

Everything that lives, whether plant or animal, has its leading characteristics. Nearly all plants, as well as animals, evince a degree of intelligence in their choice of nutriment and in their methods of obtaining it. Some plants, like animals, shrink at the touch; while others have the power of locomotion. Some seek the sunlight; while others prefer the shade. Some imprison and appropriate insects as food; while others extend themselves in this or that direction in search of favorite companionship. It is doubtless true that plants, as well as animals, however low their grade, have sensation, perhaps consciousness, and if so, a ray of reason. It would seem that mind is but an outgrowth of matter, and that every living thing has a degree of intelligence. Indeed, every particle of matter, organic or inorganic, has motive power, and is therefore endowed with a living principle, however sluggish or inert it may appear. An intelligent vitality seems to pervade the entire material of the universe. Hence it has been said with some degree of plausibility that "matter thinks." However this may be, it is certain that its motive power acts in reference to adapting means to ends, and is therefore controlled by reason,—a reason that is infinitely superior to human reason. In other words, all matter is the subject of law. The one is manifestly the condition of the other. The law cannot exist without the matter, nor can the matter exist without the law. Both are therefore co-existent, and doubtless co-eternal.

Nature is ever active in working "wonders in the heavens and in the earth." Her domain includes both. In the beam of every star she sends us a messenger revealing the fact that the stars are constructed of the same materials as the earth. In like manner we have assurance that the same is true of the nebulous masses, which seem to float, like continents, in infinite space, awaiting the slow processes which are destined to mould them into golden orbs. And thus from the depths of the infinite comes world after world, system after system, ever sweeping onward in the "eternal dances of the sky," until lost in the infinite. And thus it is that the work of creation has neither beginning nor ending, but is ever progressing in its subtile methods of combining, dissolving, and recombining the entire matter of the universe. Everything, whether orb or atom, moves in a circle, because there is a divinity that stirs within it.