The professor is misled by his supposing that what is true of the dead body must be true of the living. Because chemical analysis resolves the dead body into certain lifeless elements, he concludes that the living body is, while living, only a compound of these same lifeless elements. That is, from what is true of death, he concludes what must be true of life. But for this fallacy, he could never have fallen into the other fallacy of concluding life is only the result of a certain aggregate or amalgam of lifeless minerals. Our scientists are seldom good logicians, and we have rarely found them able, when leaving traditional science, to draw even a logical induction from the facts before them. This is wherefore they receive so little respect from philosophers and theologians, who are always ready to accept their facts, but, for the most part, unable to accept their inductions. The professor has given us some valuable facts, though very well known before; but his logical ineptness is the best argument he has as yet offered in support of his favorite theory that man is only a monkey developed.

In the extract next before the last, the professor revives an old doctrine long since abandoned, that life is generated from corruption. "Under whatever disguise it takes refuge, whether fungus or oak, worm or man, the living protoplasm not only ultimately dies and is resolved into its mineral and lifeless constituents, but is always dying, and, strange as the paradox may sound, could not live unless it died." We know that some physiologists regard the waste of the body, which in life is constantly going on, and which is repaired by the food we take, as incipient death; but this is only because they confound the particles or molecules of matter of which the body is externally built up, and which change many times during an ordinary life, with the body itself, and suppose the life of the body is simply the resultant of the aggregation of these innumerable molecules or particles. But the life of the organism, we have seen, is within it, and its action from the centre, and it is only its life, not its death, that throws off or exudes as well as assimilates the material particles. The exudation as well as the assimilation is interrupted by death. Why the protoplasm could not live unless it died is what we do not understand.

The professor, of course, not only denies the immortality of the soul, but the existence of soul itself. There is for him no soul but the protoplasm formed of ordinary matter. All this we understand very well. We understand, too, that on his theory the protoplasm assimilated by the organism to repair its waste, renews literally, not figuratively, the life of the organism. But how he extracts life from death, and concludes that the protoplasm must die, as the condition of living, passeth our comprehension. We suppose, however, the professor found it necessary to assert it in order to be able to reason from the dead subject to the living. If the protoplasm were not dead, he could not by chemical analysis determine its constituents; and if the death of the protoplasm were not essential to its life, he could not conclude the constituents of the living protoplasm from what he finds to be the constituents of the dead protoplasm. But this does not help him. In the first place, the waste of the living organism is not death nor dying, though death may result from it. And the supply of protoplasm in the shape of food does not originate new life, nor replenish a life that is gone, but supplies what is needed to sustain and invigorate a life that is already life. In the second place, the vital force is not built up by protoplastic accretions, but operates from within the organism, from the organite or central cell, without which there could be no accretions or secretions. The food does not give life; it only ministers sustenance to an organism already living. No chemical analysis of the food can disclose or throw any light on the origin, nature, or constitution of the organic life itself.

It is this fact that prevents us from having much confidence in chemical physiology, which is still insisted on by our most eminent physiologists. In every organism there is something that transcends the reach of chemical analysis, and which no chemical synthesis can reproduce. Take the professor's protoplasm itself. He resolves it into the minerals, carbon, hydrogen, oxygen, and nitrogen: but no chemist can by any possible recombination of them reproduce protoplasm. How then can one say that these minerals are its sole constituents, or that there are not other elements entering it which escape all chemical tests and, indeed, are not subject to chemical laws? Chemistry is limited, and cannot penetrate the essence of the material substance any more than the eye can. It never does and never can go beyond the sensible properties of matter. Life has its own laws, and every physiologist knows that he meets in the living organism phenomena or facts which it is impossible to reduce to any of the laws which are obtainable from the analysis of inorganic or lifeless matter. It is necessary then to conclude that there is in the living organism present and active some element which, though using lifeless matter, cannot be derived from it, or explained by physical laws, be they mechanical, chemical, or electrical. The law of life is a law sui generis, and not resolvable into any other. We must even go beyond the physical laws themselves, if we would find their principle.

As far as human science goes, there is, where the nucleus of life is wanting, no conversion of lifeless matter into living matter. The attempt to prove that living organisms, plants, animals, or man are developed from inorganic and lifeless matter, though made as long ago as Leucippus and Democritus, systematized by Epicurus, sung in rich Latin verse by Lucretius, and defended by the ablest of modern British physico-philosophers, Mr. Herbert Spencer, in his Biology, has by the sane part of the human race in all times and everywhere been held to be foolish and absurd. It has no scientific basis, is supported by no known facts, and is simply an unfounded, at least, an unsupported hypothesis. Life to the scientist is an insolvable mystery. We know no explanation of this mystery or of anything else in the universe, unless we accept the creative act of God; for the origin and cause of nature are not in nature herself. We have no other explanation of the origin of living organisms or of the matter of life. God created plants, animals, and man, created them living organisms, male and female created he them, and thus gave them the power to propagate and multiply each its own kind, by natural generation. The scientist will of course smile superciliously at this old solution, insisted on by priests and accepted by the vulgar; but though not a scientist, we know enough of science to say from even a scientific point of view that there is no alternative: either this or no solution at all. The ablest men of ancient or modern times, when they reject it, only fall into endless sophisms and self-contradictions.

Professor Huxley admits none but material existences, concedes that the terms of his proposition are unquestionably materialistic, and yet denies that he is individually a materialist.

"It may seem a small thing to admit that the dull vital actions of a fungus, or a foraminifer, are the properties of their protoplasm, and are the direct results of the nature of the matter of which they are composed. But if, as I have endeavored to prove to you, their protoplasm is essentially identical with, and most readily converted into, that of any animal, I can discover no logical halting place between the admission that such is the case, and the further concession that all vital action may, with equal propriety, be said to be the result of the molecular forces of the protoplasm which displays it. And if so, it must be true, in the same sense and to the same extent, that the thoughts to which I am now giving utterance, and your thoughts regarding them, are the expression of molecular changes in the matter of life which is the source of other vital phenomena. Past experience leads me to be tolerably certain that, when the propositions I have just placed before you are accessible to public comment and criticism, they will be condemned by many zealous persons, and perhaps by some of the wise and thoughtful. I should not wonder if 'gross and brutal materialism' were the mildest phrase applied to them in certain quarters. And most undoubtedly the terms of the propositions are distinctly materialistic. Nevertheless, two things are certain: the one, that I hold the statement to be substantially true; the other, that I, individually, am no materialist, but on the contrary believe materialism to involve grave philosophical error."

If what he has been from the first endeavoring to prove, and here distinctly asserts, is not materialism and consequently by his own confession, "a grave philosophical error," we know not what would be. "This union of materialistic terminology with the repudiation of the materialistic philosophy," he says, further on, "I share with some of the most thoughtful men with whom I am acquainted." His terminology is, then, better fitted to conceal his thought than to express it. He may repudiate this or that materialistic system; he may repudiate all philosophy, which he, of course does, yet not his terminology only, but his thought, as far as thought he has, is materialistic. Nothing can be more materialistic than the conception of life, sense, sentiment, affection, thought, reasoning, all the sensible, intellectual, and moral phenomena we are conscious of, as the product of the peculiar arrangement or combination of the molecules of the protoplasm, itself resolvable into the minerals, carbon, hydrogen, oxygen, and nitrogen.

The scientific professor defends himself from materialism, by asserting that both materialism and spiritualism lie without the limits of human science, and by denying the necessity of a substance, whether spirit or matter, to underlie and sustain—we should say, produce—the phenomena, and the necessary relation of cause and effect, or that we do or can know things under any relation but that of juxtaposition in space and time. He falls back on the skepticism of Hume, and takes refuge behind his ignorance. He is too ignorant either to assert or to deny the existence of spirit, and though he may not be able to prove the phenomena in question are the product of material forces, nobody knows enough of the nature and essence of matter to say that they are not; and in fine, he in the first part of his discourse is only stating the direction in which physiology has for some time been moving. After all, what is the difference, or rather, what matters "the difference between the conception of life as the product of a certain disposition of material molecules, and the old notion of an Archaeus governing and directing blind matter within each living body?"