Neither molecularists nor Darwinians, then, are able to level out the difference between organic and inorganic, or between genera and genera or species and species. The differences persist despite of both; the distributed identity remains unaccounted for. Nor, consequently, is Mr. Darwin’s theory competent to explain the objective idea by any reference to time and conditions. Living beings do exist in a mighty chain from the moss to the man; but that chain, far from founding, is founded in the idea, and is not the result of any mere natural growth of this into that. That chain is itself the most brilliant stamp, the sign-manual, of design. On every ledge of nature, from the lowest to the highest, there is a life that is its,—a creature to represent it, reflect it—so to speak, pasture on it. The last, highest, brightest link of this chain is man; the incarnation of thought itself, which is the summation of this universe; man, that includes in himself all other links and their single secret—the personified universe, the subject of the world. Mr. Huxley makes but small reference to thought; he only tucks it in, as it were, as a mere appendicle of course.
It may be objected, indeed—to reach the last stage in this discussion—that, if Mr. Huxley has not disproved the conception of thought and life “as a something which works through matter, but is independent of it,” neither have we proved it. But it is easy for us to reply that, if “independent of” means here “unconnected with,” we have had no such object. We have had no object whatever, in fact, but to resist, now the extravagant assertion that all organized tissue, from the lichen to Leibnitz, is alike in faculty, and again the equally extravagant assertion that life and thought are but ordinary products of molecular chemistry. As regards the latter assertion, we have endeavored to show that the processes of vital organization (as self-production, etc.) belong to another sphere, higher than, and very different from, those of mechanical juxtaposition or chemical neutralization; that life, then, is no mere product of matter as matter; that if no life can be pointed to independent of matter, neither is there any life-stuff independent of life; and that life, consequently, adds a new and higher force to chemistry, as chemistry a new and higher force to mechanics, etc. As for thought, the endeavor was to show that it was as independent on the one side as matter on the other, that it controlled, used, summed, and was the reason of matter. Thought, then, is not to be reached by any bridge from matter, that is a hybrid of both, and explains the connection. The relation of matter to mind is not to be explained as a transition, but as a contrecoup. In this relation, however, it is not the material, but the mental side, which the whole universe declares to be the dominant one.
As regards any objection to the arguments which we have brought against the identity of protoplasm, again, these will lie in the phrase, probably, “difference not of kind, but degree,” or in the word “modification.” The “phrase” may be now passed, for generic or specific difference must be allowed in protoplasm, if not for the overwhelming reason that an infinitude of various kinds exist in it, each of which is self-productive and uninterchangeable with the rest, then for Mr. Huxley’s own reason, that plants assimilate inorganic matter and animals only organic. As for the objection “modification,” again, the same consideration of generic difference must prove fatal to it. This were otherwise, indeed, could but the molecularists and Mr. Darwin succeed in destroying generic difference; but in this, as we have seen, they have failed. And this will be always so: who dogs identity, difference dogs him. It is quite a justifiable endeavor, for example, to point out the identity that obtains between veins and arteries on the one hand, as between these and capillaries on the other; but all the time the difference is behind us; and when we turn to look, we see, for circulation, the valves of the veins and the elastic coats of the arteries as opposed to one another, and, for irrigation, the permeable walls of the capillaries as opposed to both.
Generic differences exist then, and we cannot allow the word “modification” to efface them in the interest of the identity claimed for protoplasm. Brain-protoplasm is not bone-protoplasm, nor the protoplasm of the fungus the protoplasm of man. Similarly, it is very questionable how far the word “modification” will warrant us in regarding with Mr. Huxley the “ducts, fibres, pollen, and ovules” of the nettle as identical with the protoplasm of its sting. Things that originate alike may surely eventuate in others which, chemically and vitally, far from being mere modifications, must be pronounced totally different. Such eventuation must be held competent to what can only be named generic or specific difference. The “child” is only “father of the man”—it is not the man; who, moreover, in the course of an ordinary life, we are told, has totally changed himself, not once, but many times, retaining at the last not one single particle of matter with which he set out. Such eventuations, whether called modifications or not, certainly involve essential difference. And so situated are the “ducts, fibres, pollen, and ovules” of the nettle, which, whether compared with the protoplasm of the nettle-sting, or with that in which they originated, must be held to here assumed, by their own actions, indisputable differences, physical, chemical, and vital, or in form, substance, and faculty.
Much, in fact, depends on definition here; and, in reference to modification, it may be regarded as arbitrary when identity shall be admitted to cease and difference to begin. There are the old Greek puzzles of the Bald Head and the Heap, for example. How many grains, or how many hairs, may we remove before a heap of wheat is no heap, or a head of hair bald? These concern quantity alone; but, in other cases, bone, muscle, brain, fungus, tree, man, there is not only a quantitative, but a qualitative difference; and in regard to such differences, the word modification can be regarded as but a cloak, under which identity is to be shuffled into difference, but remain identity all the same. The brick is but modified clay, Mr. Huxley intimates, bake it and paint it as you may; but is the difference introduced by the baking and painting to be ignored? Is what Mr. Huxley calls the “artifice” not to be taken into account, leave alone the “potter?” The strong firm rope is about as exact an example of modification proper—modification of the weak loose hemp—as can well be found; but are we to exclude from our consideration the whole element of difference due to the hand and brain of man? Not far from Burn’s Monument, on the Calton Hill of Edinburgh, there lies a mass of stones which is potentially a church, the former Trinity College Church. Were this church again realized, would it be fair to call it a mere modification of the previous stones? Look now to the egg and the full-feathered fowl. Chaucer describes to us the cock, “hight chaunteclere,” that was to his “faire Pertelotte” so dear:—
“His comb was redder than the fine corall,
Embattled, as it were a castle-wall;
His bill was black, and as the jet it shone;
Like azure were his legges and his tone (toes);
His nailes whiter than the lilie flour,