CHAPTER XVI.
FURTHER REMARKS ON MAN'S PHYSICAL AND INTELLECTUAL PROGRESS—PHILOSOPHY OF WILL, AS ORIGINATING, DIRECTING, AND CONTROLLING ALL VOLUNTARY ANIMAL MOTION—ASTOUNDING FACTS IN RELATION TO THE SPEED, OR VELOCITY OF MOTION, AS ATTAINABLE BY PHYSICAL MAN—INTERCOMMUNICATION OF THE INHABITANTS OF DIFFERENT AND DISTANT PLANETS.
Wide, and more wide, the kindling bosom swells,
As love inspires, and truth its wonders tells.
The soul enraptured tunes the sacred lyre.
And bids a worm of earth to heaven aspire,
Mid solar systems numberless, to soar,
The depths of love and science to explore.
As I have before remarked, man is a candidate for a series of progressive changes, all tending to develop his intellectual and physical faculties, to expand his mind, and to enlarge his sphere of action, and consequent usefulness and happiness.
He begins his physical, or rudimental, fleshly career by descending below all things. He has at his birth less power of locomotion, or even instinct, than other animals.
His powers of motion are so very limited, that for several months he is entirely unable to change his locality. Wherever he is placed, there he must remain until removed by the agency of others. He can hardly be said to have a will, or, at least, it is so undeveloped, as scarcely to manifest itself by any effort beyond the movement of some portion of his members. While he remains in this state of mental inability and physical helplessness, a casual observer, entirely unacquainted with his progress and destiny, might very naturally conclude that this was the climax of his maturity, the natural sphere of his eternal existence.
A few months, however, develop a marked change—he begins to learn the use, and put forth the powers of his will. The body, developed in a commensurate degree, is able to obey that will. Thus commences locomotion. The child crawls or creeps about the floor; explores the little world—that is to say, the room where he resides, or the adjoining apartment—becomes familiar with its dimensions, bearings and contents, and recognizes his associates or fellow citizens of the same little world. Then he becomes familiar with the science of geography and of history, if I may so call it, in his little world.
Prompted by curiosity, he may, perhaps, cast an occasional glance beyond the limits of his own abode. He may contemplate a building or landscape on the other side of the street or field, but with much of the same feeling as a man, more matured, casts his eyes to the distant planets. He concludes that these distant objects are entirely beyond the reach of his powers of locomotion.
In a short time, however, his faculties, still expanding, develop new and increasing energies. He conceives "big thoughts." He even thinks of dispensing with his plodding, creeping manner of locomotion, and of trying to stand upright, and even make a first step towards walking. It is a great undertaking. He hesitates, doubts, fears, hopes, till finally, being cheered onward in his career by his parents or his nurse, he makes the attempt. After several falls, failures, and disappointments, he at length succeeds in walking two or three steps. O what a triumph in his powers of locomotion! He is cheered, embraced, overwhelmed, by those who have been watching his progress and encouraging him, until, overcome and carried away by an extasy of transport, he falls, blushing, smiling and exulting into the arms held out for his reception. He dreams not of a higher attainment. He is now, in his own estimation, at the very highest pinnacle of human development.
Improving in his new mode of locomotion, he soon runs about the yard, along the street, through the field, makes new discoveries, sees new habitations, enlarges his geographical knowledge, and begins to conceive the probability that his views have been too narrow, and that there may be a bigger world, more people, and more buildings than were dreamed of in his philosophy.