Rough Ways Made Smooth: A series of familiar essays on scientific subjects

by Richard A. Proctor

Strength in particular limbs or muscles is often transmitted hereditarily. So also is skill in special exercises. Thus in the north country there are families of famous wrestlers. Among professional oarsmen, again, we may note such cases as the Clasper family in the north, the Mackinneys in the south; while among amateur oarsmen we have the case of the Playford family, to which the present amateur champion sculler belongs. In cricket, the Walker family and the Grace family may be cited among amateurs, the Humphreys among professional players. Grace in dancing was transmitted for three generations in the Vestris family. It must, however, be noted that in some of these cases we may fairly consider that example and teaching have had much to do with the result. Take rowing for instance. A good oarsman will impart his style to a whole crew if he rows stroke for them; and even if he only trains them (as Morrison, for instance, trained the Cambridge crew a few years ago), he will make good oarsmen of men suitably framed and possessing ordinary aptitude for rowing. I remember well how a famous stroke-oar at Cambridge (John Hall, of Magdalen,) imparted to one at least of the University crew (a fellow-collegian of his, and therefore rowing with him constantly also in his College boat) so exact an imitation of his style that one rather dusky evening, when the latter was 'stroking' a scratch four past a throng of University men, a dispute arose as to which of the two was really stroke of the four. Anyone who knows how characteristic commonly is the rowing of any first-class stroke, and still more anyone who chances to know how peculiar was the style of the University 'stroke-oar' referred to, will understand how closely his style must have been adopted, when experienced oarsmen, not many yards from the passing four, were unable to decide at once which of the two men were rowing,—even though the evening was dusky enough to prevent the features of the stroke (whose face was not fully in view at the moment) from being discerned. Seeing that a first-rate oarsman can thus communicate his style so perfectly to another, it cannot be regarded as demonstrably a case of hereditary transmission if the Claspers rowed in the same style as their father, or if the present champion amateur sculler (making allowances for the change introduced by the sliding seat) rows very much like his father and his uncle.

Some peculiarities, such as stammering, lisping, babbling, and the like, are not easily referable to any special class of hereditary traits, because it is not clear how far they are to be regarded as depending on bodily or how far on mental peculiarities. It might seem obvious that stammering was in most cases uncontrollable by the will, and babbling might seem as certainly controllable. Yet there are cases which throw doubt on either conclusion. Thus, Dr. Lucas tells us of a servant-maid whose loquacity was apparently quite uncontrollable. She would talk to people till they were ready to faint; and if there were no human being to listen to her, she would talk to animals and inanimate objects, or would talk aloud to herself. She had to be discharged. 'But,' she said to her master, 'I am not to blame; it all comes from my father. He had the same fault, and it drove my mother to distraction; and his father was just the same.' Stammering has been transmitted through as many as five generations. The same has been noticed of peculiarities of vision. The Montmorency look, a sort of half squint, affected nearly all the members of the Montmorency family. The peculiarity called Daltonism, an inability to distinguish between certain colours of the spectrum, was not so named, as is often asserted, merely because the distinguished chemist Dalton was affected by it, but because three members of the same family were similarly affected. Deafness and blindness are not commonly hereditary where the parents have lost sight or hearing either by accident or through illness, even though the illness or accident occur during infancy; but persons born either blind or deaf frequently if not commonly transmit the defect to some at least among their offspring. Similar remarks apply to deaf-mutism.

The senses of taste and smell must also be included in the list of those which are affected by transmitted peculiarities. If we include the craving for liquor among such peculiarities, we might at once cite a long list of cases; but this craving must be regarded as nervo-psychical, the sense of taste having in reality very little to do with it. It is doubtful how the following hideous instance should be classed. It is related by Dr. Lucas. 'A man in Scotland had an irresistible desire to eat human flesh. He had a daughter; although removed from her father and mother, who were both sent to the stake before she was a year old, and although brought up among respectable people, this girl, like her father, yielded to the horrible craving for human flesh.' He must be an ardent student of physiological science who regrets that at this stage circumstances intervened which prevented the world from ascertaining whether the peculiarity would have descended to the third and fourth generations.

Amongst the strangest cases of hereditary transmissions are those relating to handwriting. Darwin cites several curious instances in his Variation of Plants and Animals under Domestication. 'On what a curious combination of corporeal structure, mental character, and training,' he remarks, 'must handwriting depend. Yet everyone must have noted the occasional close similarity of the handwriting in father and son, even although the father had not taught the son. A great collector of franks assured me that in his collection there were several franks of father and son hardly distinguishable except by their dates.' Hofacker, in Germany, remarks on the inheritance of handwriting, and it has been even asserted that English boys when taught to write in France naturally cling to their English manner of writing. Dr. Carpenter mentions the following instance as having occurred in his own family, as showing that the character of the handwriting is independent of the special teaching which the right hand receives in this art:—'A gentleman who emigrated to the United States and settled in the back woods, before the end of last century, was accustomed from time to time to write long letters to his sister in England, giving an account of his family affairs. Having lost his right arm by an accident, the correspondence was temporarily kept up by one or other of his children; but in the course of a few months he learned to write with his left hand, and before long, the handwriting of the letters thus written came to be indistinguishable from that of his former letters.'

I had occasion two or three years ago to consider in an article on 'Strange Mental Feats,' in my Science Byeways, the question of inherited mental qualities and artistic habits, and would refer the reader for some remarkable instances of transmitted powers to that article.[18] Galton in his work on Hereditary Genius, and Ribot in his treatise on Heredity, have collected many facts bearing on this interesting question. Both writers show a decided bias in favour of a view which would give to heredity a rather too important position among the factors of genius. Cases are cited which seem very little to the purpose, and multitudes of instances are omitted which oppose themselves, at a first view at any rate, to the belief that heredity plays the first part in the genesis of great minds. Nearly all the greatest names in philosophy, literature, and science, and a great number of the greatest names in art, stand absolutely alone. We know nothing achieved by the father or grandfather of Shakspeare, or of Goethe, or Schiller, or Evans (George Eliot), or Thackeray, or Dickens, or Huxley. None of Newton's family were in any way distinguished in mathematical or scientific work; nor do we know of a distinguished Laplace, or Lagrange, or Lavoisier, or Harvey, or Dalton, or Volta, or Faraday, besides those who made these names illustrious. As to general literature, page after page might be filled with the mere names of those whose ancestry has been quite undistinguished. To say that among the ancestors of Goethe, Schiller, Byron, and so forth, certain qualities, virtues or vices, passions or insensibilities to passion, may be recognised 'among the ancestors of men of science, certain aptitudes for special subjects or methods of research,' among the ancestors of philosophers and literary men certain qualities or capabilities, and that such ancestral peculiarities determined the poetic, scientific, or literary genius of the descendant, is in reality to little purpose, for there is probably not a single family possessing claims to culture in any civilised country among the members of which individuals might not be found with qualities thus emphasised so to speak. Such à posteriori reasoning is valueless. If instances could be so classified that after carefully studying them we could make even the roughest approach to a guess respecting the cases in which a family might be expected to produce men of any particular qualities, there would be some use in these attempts at generalisation; at present all that can be said is that some mental qualities and some artistic aptitudes have unquestionably in certain instances been transmitted, and that on the whole men of great distinction in philosophy, literature, science, and art, are rather more likely than others to have among their relations (more or less remote) persons somewhat above the average in mental or artistic qualities. But it is not altogether certain that this superiority is even quite so great as it might be expected to be if hereditary transmission played no part at all in the matter. For it cannot be denied that a great mathematician's son has rather a better chance than others of being a mathematician, a great author's son of being a writer, a great artist's son of being skilful in art, a great philosopher's son of taking philosophic views of things. Nearly every son looks forward while still young to the time when he shall be doing his father's work; nearly every father hopes while his children are yet young that some at least among them will follow his pursuits. The fact that so few sons of great men do follow in their fathers' footsteps shows that, despite the strong ambition of the son and the anxious hope of the father, the son in the majority of instances has not had ability even to take a fairly good position in the work wherein the father has been perhaps pre-eminently distinguished.

I have said that certain mental qualities have certainly been transmitted in some cases. Galton mentions one noteworthy instance relating to memory. In the family of Porson good memory was so notable a faculty as to give rise to the byword, 'the Porson memory.' Lady Hester Stanhope, says the late F. Papillon, 'she whose life was so full of adventure, gives, as one among many points of resemblance between herself and her grandfather, her retentive memory. "I have my grandfather's grey eyes," said she, "and his memory of places. If he saw a stone on the road, he remembered it; it is the same with myself. His eye, which was ordinarily dull and lustreless, was lighted up, like my own, with a dull gleam whenever he was seized with passion."'

In endeavouring to form an opinion on the law of heredity in its relation to genius, we must remember that a remark somewhat similar to one made by Huxley respecting the origin of new species applies to the origin of a man of genius. Before such a man became celebrated no one cared particularly to inquire about his ancestry or relations; when his fame was established, the time for making the inquiry had passed away. It is quite possible that, if we had exact and full information, in a great number of cases we might find the position taken up by Mr Galton and M. Ribot greatly strengthened; it is, however, also possible that we might find it much weakened, not only by the recognition of a multitude of cases in which the approach of a great man was in no sort indicated by scintillations of brightness along the genealogical track, but by a yet greater number of cases in which families containing numbers of clever, witty, and learned folks have produced none who attained real distinction.

There is an excellent remark in a thoughtful but anonymous paper on Heredity in the Quarterly Journal of Science, two years or so ago, which suggests some considerations well worth noting. 'If we look,' says the writer, 'on the intellect as not a single force but a complex of faculties, we shall find little to perplex us in the phenomenon of spontaneity'—that is (in this case), in the appearance of a man of genius in a family not before remarkable in any way. 'Suppose a family who have possessed some of the attributes of greatness, but who, in virtue of a principle equally true in psychology and in mechanics, that "nothing is stronger than its weakest part," has remained in obscurity. Let a man of this family marry a woman whose faculties are the complement of his own. It is possible that a child of such a couple may combine the defects or weaknesses of both parents, and we have then the case of spontaneous imbecility or criminality. But it is also possible that he may combine the excellences of both, and burst upon the world as a spontaneous genius.... Again, we must remember that, even if we consider the intellect as "one and indivisible," it is far from being the only faculty needful for the attainment of excellence, even in the fields of pure science. Combined with it there must be the moral faculties of patience, perseverance, and concentration. The will must be strong enough to overcome all distracting temptations, whether in themselves good or evil. Lastly, there must be constitutional energy and endurance. Failing these, the man will merely leave among his friends the conviction that he might have achieved greatness, if——. We once knew a physician, resident in a small country town, who from time to time startled his associates by some profound and suggestive idea, some brilliant aperçu. But a constitutional languor prevented him from ever completing an investigation, or from leaving the world one written line.'

The effect of circumstances also must not be overlooked. It is certain that some of those who stand highest in the world's repute would have done nothing to make their names remembered but for circumstances which either aided their efforts or compelled them to exertion; and it cannot be doubted, therefore, that many who have been by no means celebrated have required but favouring opportunities or the spur of adverse circumstances to have achieved distinction. We note the cases in which men who have been intended by their parents for the desk or routine work have fortunately been freed for nobler work, to which their powers have specially fitted them. But we are apt to forget that for each such case there must be many instances in which no fortunate chance has intervened. The theory that genius will make its way, despite all obstacles, is like the popular notion that 'murder will out,' and other such fancies. We note when events happen which favour such notions, but we not only do not note—in the very nature of things it is impossible that we should have the chance of noting—cases unfavourable to a notion which, after all, is but a part of the general and altogether erroneous idea that what we think ought to be, will be. That among millions of men in a civilised community, trained under multitudinous conditions, for diverse professions, trades, and so forth, exposed to many vicissitudes of fortune, good and bad, there should be men from time to time—

Who break their birth's invidious bar,
And grasp the skirts of happy chance,
And breast the blows of circumstance,
And grapple with their evil star,