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If we now turn to Greece, we find, even in the infancy of its religion, not the faintest trace of any thing approaching to this. For, in Greece, the causes of fear being less abundant, the expression of terror was less common. The Greeks, therefore, were by no means disposed to incorporate into their religion those feelings of dread natural to the Hindus. The tendency of Asiatic civilization was to widen the distance between men and their deities; the tendency of Greek civilization was to diminish it. Thus it is, that in Hindostan all the gods had something monstrous about them; as Vishnu with four hands, Brahma with five heads, and the like.²⁶⁶ But the gods of Greece were always represented in forms entirely human.²⁶⁷ In that country, no artist would have gained attention, if he had presumed to portray them in any other shape. He might make them stronger than men, he might make them more beautiful; but still they must be men. The analogy between God and Man, which excited the religious feelings of the Greeks, would have been fatal to those of the Hindus.

This difference between the artistic expressions of the two religions was accompanied by an exactly similar difference between their theological traditions. In the Indian books, the imagination is exhausted in relating the feats of the gods; and the more obviously impossible any achievement is, the greater the pleasure with which it was ascribed to them. But the Greek gods had not only human forms, but also human attributes, human pursuits, and human tastes.²⁶⁸ The men of Asia, to whom every object of nature was a source of awe, acquired such habits of reverence, that they never dared to assimilate their own actions with the actions of their deities. The men of Europe, encouraged by the safety and inertness of the material world, did not fear to strike a parallel, from which they would have shrunk had they lived amid the dangers of a tropical country. It is thus that the Greek divinities are so different from those of the Hindus, that in comparing them we seem to pass from one creation into another. The Greeks generalized their observations upon the human mind, and then applied them to the gods.²⁶⁹ The coldness of women was figured in Diana; their beauty and sensuality in Venus; their pride in Juno; their accomplishments in Minerva. To the ordinary avocations of the gods the same principle was applied. Neptune was a sailor; Vulcan was a smith; Apollo was sometimes a fiddler, sometimes a poet, sometimes a keeper of oxen. As to Cupid, he was a wanton boy, who played with his bow and arrows; Jupiter was an amorous and good-natured king; while Mercury was indifferently represented either as a trustworthy messenger, or else as a common and notorious thief.

Precisely the same tendency to approximate human forces towards superhuman ones, is displayed in another peculiarity of the Greek religion. I mean, that in Greece we for the first time meet with hero-worship, that is, the deification of mortals. According to the principles already laid down, this could not be expected in a tropical civilization, where the Aspects of Nature filled Man with a constant sense of his own incapacity. It is, therefore, natural that it should form no part of the ancient Indian religion;²⁷⁰ neither was it known to the Egyptians,²⁷¹ nor to the Persians,²⁷² nor, so far as I am aware, to the Arabians.²⁷³ But in Greece, Man being less humbled, and, as it were, less eclipsed, by the external world, thought more of his own powers, and human nature did not fall into that discredit in which it elsewhere sank. The consequence was, that the deification of mortals was a recognized part of the national religion at a very early period in the history of Greece;²⁷⁴ and this has been found so natural to Europeans, that the same custom was afterwards renewed with eminent success by the Romish Church. Other circumstances, of a very different character, are gradually eradicating this form of idolatry; but its existence is worth observing, as one of the innumerable illustrations of the way in which European civilization has diverged from all those that preceded it.²⁷⁵

It is thus, that in Greece every thing tended to exalt the dignity of man, while in India every thing tended to depress it.²⁷⁶ To sum up the whole, it may be said that the Greeks had more respect for human powers; the Hindus for superhuman. The first dealt more with the known and available; the other with the unknown and mysterious.²⁷⁷ And by a parity of reasoning, the imagination, which the Hindus, being oppressed by the pomp and majesty of nature, never sought to control, lost its supremacy in the little peninsula of ancient Greece. In Greece, for the first time in the history of the world, the imagination was, in some degree, tempered and confined by the understanding. Not that its strength was impaired, or its vitality diminished. It was broken-in and tamed; its exuberance was checked, its follies were chastised. But that its energy remained, we have ample proof in those productions of the Greek mind which have survived to our own time. The gain, therefore, was complete; since the inquiring and sceptical faculties of the human understanding were cultivated, without destroying the reverential and poetic instincts of the imagination. Whether or not the balance was accurately adjusted, is another question; but it is certain that the adjustment was more nearly arrived at in Greece than in any previous civilization.²⁷⁸ There can, I think, be little doubt that, notwithstanding what was effected, too much authority was left to the imaginative faculties, and that the purely reasoning ones did not receive, and never have received, sufficient attention. Still, this does not affect the great fact, that the Greek literature is the first in which this deficiency was somewhat remedied, and in which there was a deliberate and systematic attempt to test all opinions by their consonance with human reason, and thus vindicate the right of Man to judge for himself on matters which are of supreme and incalculable importance.

I have selected India and Greece as the two terms of the preceding comparison, because our information respecting those countries is most extensive, and has been most carefully arranged. But every thing we know of the other tropical civilizations confirms the views I have advocated respecting the effects produced by the Aspects of Nature. In Central America extensive excavations have been made; and what has been brought to light proves that the national religion was, like that of India, a system of complete and unmitigated terror.²⁷⁹ Neither there nor in Mexico, nor in Peru, nor in Egypt, did the people desire to represent their deities in human forms, or ascribe to them human attributes. Even their temples are huge buildings, often constructed with great skill, but showing an evident wish to impress the mind with fear, and offering a striking contrast to the lighter and smaller structures which the Greeks employed for religious purposes. Thus, even in the style of architecture do we see the same principle at work; the dangers of the tropical civilization being more suggestive of the infinite, while the safety of the European civilization was more suggestive of the finite. To follow out the consequences of this great antagonism, it would be necessary to indicate how the infinite, the imaginative, the synthetic, and the deductive, are all connected; and are opposed, on the other hand, by the finite, the sceptical, the analytic, and the inductive. A complete illustration of this would carry me beyond the plan of this Introduction and would perhaps exceed the resources of my own knowledge; and I must now leave to the candour of the reader what I am conscious is but an imperfect sketch, but what may, nevertheless, suggest to him materials for future thought, and, if I might indulge the hope, may open to historians a new field, by reminding them that every where the hand of Nature is upon us, and that the history of the human mind can only be understood by connecting with it the history and the aspects of the material universe.

Note 36 to p. 61

As these views have a social and economical importance quite independent of their physiological value, I will endeavour, in this note, to fortify them still further, by showing that the connexion between carbonized food and the respiratory functions may be illustrated by a wider survey of the animal kingdom.

The gland most universal among the different classes of animals is the liver;²⁸⁰ and its principal business is to relieve the system of its superfluous carbon, which it accomplishes by secreting bile, a highly carbonized fluid.²⁸¹ Now, the connexion between this process and the respiratory functions is highly curious. For, if we take a general view of animal life, we shall find that the liver and lungs are nearly always compensatory; that is to say, when one organ is small and inert, the other is large and active. Thus, reptiles have feeble lungs, but a considerable liver;²⁸² and thus, too, in fishes, which have no lungs, in the ordinary sense of the word, the size of the liver is often enormous.²⁸³ On the other hand, insects have a very large and complicated system of air tubes; but their liver is minute, and its functions are habitually sluggish.²⁸⁴ If, instead of comparing the different classes of animals, we compare the different stages through which the same animal passes, we shall find further confirmation of this wide and striking principle. For the law holds good even before birth; since in the unborn infant the lungs have scarcely any activity, but there is an immense liver, which is full of energy and pours out bile in profusion.²⁸⁵ And so invariable is this relation, that in man the liver is the first organ which is formed: it is preponderant during the whole period of fœtal life; but it rapidly diminishes when, after birth, the lungs come into play, and a new scheme of compensation is established in the system.²⁸⁶

These facts, interesting to the philosophic physiologist, are of great moment in reference to the doctrines advocated in this chapter. Inasmuch as the liver and lungs are compensatory in the history of their organization, it is highly probable that they are also compensatory in the functions they perform; and that what is left undone by one will have to be accomplished by the other. The liver, therefore, fulfilling the duty, as chemistry teaches us, of decarbonizing the system by secreting a carbonized fluid, we should expect, even in the absence of any further evidence, that the lungs would be likewise decarbonizing; in other words, we should expect that if, from any cause, we are surcharged with carbon, our lungs must assist in remedying the evil. This brings us, by another road, to the conclusion that highly carbonized food has a tendency to tax the lungs; so that the connexion between a carbonized diet and the respiratory functions, instead of being, as some assert, a crude hypothesis, is an eminently scientific theory, and is corroborated not only by chemistry, but by the general scheme of the animal kingdom, and even by the observation of embryological phenomena. The views of Liebig, and of his followers, are indeed supported by so many analogies, and harmonize so well with other parts of our knowledge, that nothing but a perverse hatred of generalization, or an incapacity for dealing with large speculative truths, can explain the hostility directed against conclusions which have been gradually forcing themselves upon us since Lavoisier, seventy years ago, attempted to explain the respiratory functions by subjecting them to the laws of chemical combination.

In this, and previous notes (see in particular notes 30, 31, 35), I have considered the connexion between food respiration, and animal heat, at a length which will appear tedious to readers uninterested in physiological pursuits; but the investigation has become necessary, on account of the difficulties raised by experimenters, who, not having studied the subject comprehensively, object to certain parts of it. To mention what, from the ability and reputation of the author, is a conspicuous instance of this, Sir Benjamin Brodie has recently published a volume (Physiological Researches, 1851) containing some ingeniously contrived experiments on dogs and rabbits, to prove that heat is generated rather by the nervous system than by the respiratory organs. Without following this eminent surgeon into all its details, I may be permitted to observe, 1st, That, as a mere matter of history, no great physiological truth has ever yet been discovered, nor has any great physiological fallacy been destroyed, by such limited experiments on a single class of animals; and this is partly because in physiology a crucial instance is impracticable, owing to the fact that we deal with resisting and living bodies, and partly because every experiment produces an abnormal condition, and thus lets in fresh causes, the operation of which is incalculable; unless, as often happens in the inorganic world, we can control the whole phenomenon. 2nd, That the other department of the organic world, namely, the vegetable kingdom, has, so far as we are aware, no nervous system, but nevertheless possesses heat; and we moreover know that the heat is a product of oxygen and carbon (see note 32 to chapter ii.). 3d, That the evidence of travellers respecting the different sorts of food, and the different quantities of food, used in hot countries and in cold ones, is explicable by the respiratory and chemical theories of the origin of animal heat, but is inexplicable by the theory of the nervous origin of heat.

CHAPTER III
EXAMINATION OF THE METHOD EMPLOYED BY METAPHYSICIANS FOR DISCOVERING MENTAL LAWS

The evidence that I have collected seems to establish two leading facts, which, unless they can be impugned, are the necessary basis of universal history. The first fact is, that in the civilizations out of Europe, the powers of nature have been far greater than in those in Europe. The second fact is, that those powers have worked immense mischief; and that while one division of them has caused an unequal distribution of wealth, another division of them has caused an unequal distribution of thought, by concentrating attention upon subjects which inflame the imagination. So far as the experience of the past can guide us, we may say, that in all the extra European civilizations, these obstacles are insuperable: certainly no nation has ever yet overcome them. But Europe, being constructed upon a smaller plan than the other quarters of the world – being also in a colder region, having a less exuberant soil, a less imposing aspect, and displaying in all her physical phenomena much greater feebleness – it was easier for Man to discard the superstitions which Nature suggested to his imagination; and it was also easier for him to effect, not, indeed, a just division of wealth, but something nearer to it, than was practicable in the older countries.

Hence it is that, looking at the history of the world as a whole, the tendency has been, in Europe, to subordinate nature to man; out of Europe, to subordinate man to nature. To this there are, in barbarous countries, several exceptions; but in civilized countries the rule has been universal. The great division, therefore, between European civilization and non-European civilization, is the basis of the philosophy of history, since it suggests the important consideration, that if we would understand, for instance, the history of India, we must make the external world our first study, because it has influenced man more than man has influenced it. If, on the other hand, we would understand the history of a country like France or England, we must make man our principal study, because nature being comparatively weak, every step in the great progress has increased the dominion of the human mind over the agencies of the external world. Even in those countries where the power of man has reached the highest point, the pressure of nature is still immense; but it diminishes in each succeeding generation, because our increasing knowledge enables us not so much to control nature as to foretell her movements, and thus obviate many of the evils she would otherwise occasion. How successful our efforts have been, is evident from the fact, that the average duration of life constantly becomes longer, and the number of inevitable dangers fewer; and what makes this the more remarkable is, that the curiosity of men is keener, and their contact with each other closer, than in any former period; so that while apparent hazards are multiplied, we find from experience that real hazards are, on the whole, diminished.²⁸⁷

If, therefore, we take the largest possible view of the history of Europe, and confine ourselves entirely to the primary cause of its superiority over other parts of the world, we must resolve it into the encroachment of the mind of man upon the organic and inorganic forces of nature. To this all other causes are subordinate.²⁸⁸ For we have seen that wherever the powers of nature reached a certain height, the national civilization was irregularly developed, and the advance of the civilization stopped. The first essential was, to limit the interference of these physical phenomena; and that was most likely to be accomplished where the phenomena were feeblest and least imposing. This was the case with Europe; it is accordingly in Europe alone, that man has really succeeded in taming the energies of nature, bending them to his own will, turning them aside from their ordinary course, and compelling them to minister to his happiness, and subserve the general purposes of human life.

All around us are the traces of this glorious and successful struggle. Indeed, it seems as if in Europe there was nothing man feared to attempt. The invasions of the sea repelled, and whole provinces, as in the case of Holland, rescued from its grasp, mountains cut through and turned into level roads; soils of the most obstinate sterility becoming exuberant, from the mere advance of chemical knowledge; while, in regard to electric phenomena, we see the subtlest, the most rapid, and the most mysterious of all forces, made the medium of thought, and obeying even the most capricious behests of the human mind.

In other instances, where the products of the external world have been refractory, man has succeeded in destroying what he could hardly hope to subjugate. The most cruel diseases, such as the plague, properly so called, and the leprosy of the Middle Ages,²⁸⁹ have entirely disappeared from the civilized parts of Europe; and it is scarcely possible that they should ever again be seen there. Wild beasts and birds of prey have been extirpated, and are no longer allowed to infest the haunts of civilised men. Those frightful famines, by which Europe used to be ravaged several times in every century,²⁹⁰ have ceased; and so successfully have we grappled with them, that there is not the slightest fear of their ever returning with any thing like their former severity. Indeed, our resources are now so great, that we could at worst, only suffer from a slight and temporary scarcity: since, in the present state of knowledge, the evil would be met at the outset by remedies which chemical science could easily suggest.²⁹¹

It is hardly necessary to notice how, in numerous other instances, the progress of European civilization has been marked by the diminished influence of the external world: I mean, of course, those peculiarities of the external world which have an existence independent of the wishes of man, and were not created by him. The most advanced nations do, in their present state, owe comparatively little to those original features of nature which, in every civilization out of Europe, exercised unlimited power. Thus, in Asia and elsewhere, the course of trade, the extent of commerce, and many similar circumstances, were determined by the existence of rivers, by the facility with which they could be navigated, and by the number and goodness of the adjoining harbours. But, in Europe, the determining cause is, not so much these physical peculiarities, as the skill and energy of man. Formerly the richest countries were those in which nature was most bountiful; now the richest countries are those in which man is most active. For, in our age of the world, if nature is parsimonious, we know how to compensate her deficiencies. If a river is difficult to navigate, or a country difficult to traverse, our engineers can correct the error, and remedy the evil. If we have no rivers, we make canals; if we have no natural harbours, we make artificial ones. And so marked is this tendency to impair the authority of natural phenomena, that it is seen even in the distribution of the people, since, in the most civilized parts of Europe, the population of the towns is everywhere outstripping that of the country; and it is evident that the more men congregate in great cities, the more they will become accustomed to draw their materials of thought from the business of human life, and the less attention they will pay to those peculiarities of nature, which are the fertile source of superstition, and by which, in every civilization out of Europe, the progress of man was arrested.

From these facts it may be fairly inferred, that the advance of European civilization is characterized by a diminishing influence of physical laws, and an increasing influence of mental laws. The complete proof of this generalization can be collected only from history; and therefore I must reserve a large share of the evidence on which it is founded for the future volumes of this work. But that the proposition is fundamentally true must be admitted by whoever, in addition to the arguments just adduced, will concede two premiss is, neither of which seem susceptible of much dispute. The first premiss is, that we are in possession of no evidence that the powers of nature have ever been permanently increased; and that we have no reason to expect that any such increase can take place. The other premiss is, that we have abundant evidence that the resources of the human mind have become more powerful, more numerous, and more able to grapple with the difficulties of the external world; because every fresh accession to our knowledge supplies fresh means with which we can either control the operations of nature, or, failing in that, can foresee the consequences, and thus avoid what it is impossible to prevent; in both instances, diminishing the pressure exercised on us by external agents.

If these premisses are admitted, we are led to a conclusion which is of great value for the purpose of this Introduction. For, if the measure of civilization is the triumph of the mind over external agents, it becomes clear, that of the two classes of laws which regulate the progress of mankind, the mental class is more important than the physical. This, indeed, is assumed by one school of thinkers as a matter of course, though I am not aware that its demonstration has been hitherto attempted by any thing even approaching an exhaustive analysis. The question, however, as to the originality of my arguments, is one of very trifling moment; but what we have to notice is, that in the present stage of our inquiry, the problem with which we started has become simplified, and a discovery of the laws of European history is resolved, in the first instance, into a discovery of the laws of the human mind. These mental laws, when ascertained, will be the ultimate basis of the history of Europe; the physical laws will be treated as of minor importance, and as merely giving rise to disturbances, the force and the frequency of which have, during several centuries, perceptibly diminished.

If we now inquire into the means of discovering the laws of the human mind, the metaphysicians are ready with an answer; and they refer us to their own labours as supplying a satisfactory solution. It therefore becomes necessary to ascertain the value of their researches, to measure the extent of their resources, and, above all, to test the validity of that method which they always follow, and by which alone, as they assert, great truths can be elicited.

The metaphysical method, though necessarily branching into two divisions, is, in its origin, always the same, and consists in each observer studying the operations of his own mind.²⁹² This is the direct opposite of the historical method; the metaphysician studying one mind, the historian studying many minds. Now, the first remark to make on this is, that the metaphysical method is one by which no discovery has ever yet been made in any branch of knowledge. Every thing we at present know has been ascertained by studying phenomena, from which all casual disturbances having been removed, the law remains as a conspicuous residue.²⁹³ And this can only be done by observations so numerous as to eliminate the disturbances, or else by experiments so delicate as to isolate the phenomena. One of these conditions is essential to all inductive science; but neither of them does the metaphysician obey. To isolate the phenomenon is for him an impossibility; since no man, into whatever state of reverie he may be thrown, can entirely cut himself off from the influence of external events, which must produce an effect on his mind, even when he is unconscious of their presence. As to the other condition, it is by the metaphysician set at open defiance; for his whole system is based on the supposition that, by studying a single mind, he can get the laws of all minds; so that while he, on the one hand, is unable to isolate his observations from disturbances, he, on the other hand, refuses to adopt the only remaining precaution – he refuses so to enlarge his survey as to eliminate the disturbances by which his observations are troubled.²⁹⁴

This is the first and fundamental objection to which metaphysicians are exposed, even on the threshold of their science. But if we penetrate a little deeper, we shall meet with another circumstance, which, though less obvious, is equally decisive. After the metaphysician has taken for granted that, by studying one mind, he can discover the laws of all minds, he finds himself involved in a singular difficulty as soon as he begins to apply even this imperfect method. The difficulty to which I allude is one which, not being met with in any other pursuit, seems to have escaped the attention of those who are unacquainted with metaphysical controversies. To understand, therefore, its nature, it is requisite to give a short account of those two great schools, to one of which all metaphysicians must necessarily belong.

In investigating the nature of the human mind, according to the metaphysical scheme, there are two methods of proceeding, both of which are equally obvious, and yet both of which lead to entirely different results. According to the first method, the inquirer begins by examining his sensations. According to the other method, he begins by examining his ideas. These two methods always have led, and always must lead, to conclusions diametrically opposed to each other. Nor are the reasons of this difficult to understand. In metaphysics, the mind is the instrument as well as the material on which the instrument is employed. The means by which the science must be worked out, being thus the same as the object upon which it works, there arises a difficulty of a very peculiar kind. This difficulty is, the impossibility of taking a comprehensive view of the whole of the mental phenomena; because, however extensive such a view may be, it must exclude the state of the mind by which, or in which, the view itself is taken. Hence we may perceive what, I think, is a fundamental difference between physical and metaphysical inquiries. In physics, there are several methods of proceeding, all of which lead to the same results. But in metaphysics, it will invariably be found, that if two men of equal ability, and equal honesty, employ different methods in the study of the mind, the conclusions which they obtain will also be different. To those who are unversed in these matters, a few illustrations will set this in a clearer light. Metaphysicians who begin by the study of ideas observe in their own minds an idea of space. Whence, they ask, can this arise? It cannot, they say, owe its origin to the senses, because the senses only supply what is finite and contingent; whereas the idea of space is infinite and necessary.²⁹⁵ It is infinite, since we cannot conceive that space has an end; and it is necessary, since we cannot conceive the possibility of its non-existence. Thus far the idealist. But the sensualist, as he is called,²⁹⁶– he who begins, not with ideas, but with sensations, arrives at a very different conclusion. He remarks that we can have no idea of space until we have first had an idea of objects; and that the ideas of objects can only be the results of the sensations which those objects excite. As to the idea of space being necessary, this, he says, only results from the circumstance that we never can perceive an object which does not bear a certain position to some other object. This forms an indissoluble association between the idea of position and the idea of an object; and as this association is constantly repeated before us, we at length find ourselves unable to conceive an object without position, or, in other words, without space.²⁹⁷ As to space being infinite, this, he says, is a notion we get by conceiving a continual addition to lines, or to surfaces, or to bulk, which are the three modifications of extension.²⁹⁸ On innumerable other points we find the same discrepancy between the two schools. The idealist,²⁹⁹ for example, asserts that our notions of cause, of time, of personal identity, and of substance, are universal and necessary; that they are simple; and that not being susceptible of analysis, they must be referred to the original constitution of the mind.³⁰⁰ On the other hand, the sensationalist, so far from recognizing the simplicity of these ideas, considers them to be extremely complex, and looks upon their universality and necessity as merely the result of a frequent and intimate association.³⁰¹

266.Ward on the Religion of the Hindoos, vol. i. p. 35; Transac. of Society of Bombay, vol. i. p. 223. Compare the gloss in the Dabistan, vol. ii. p. 202.

267.‘The Greek gods were formed like men, with greatly increased powers and faculties, and acted as men would do if so circumstanced, but with a dignity and energy suited to their nearer approach to perfection. The Hindu gods, on the other hand, though endued with human passions, have always something monstrous in their appearance, and wild and capricious in their conduct. They are of various colours, red, yellow, and blue; some have twelve heads, and most have four hands. They are often enraged without a cause, and reconciled without a motive.’ Elphinstone's History of India, pp. 96, 97. See also Erskine on the Temple of Elephanta, in Transac. of Society of Bombay, vol. i. p. 246; and the Dabistan, vol. i. p. cxi.

268.‘In the material polytheism of other leading ancient nations, the Egyptians, for example, the incarnation of the Deity was chiefly, or exclusively, confined to animals, monsters, or other fanciful emblems… In Greece, on the other hand, it was an almost necessary result of the spirit and grace with which the deities were embodied in human forms, that they should also be burdened with human interests and passions. Heaven, like earth, had its courts and palaces, its trades and professions, its marriages, intrigues, divorces.’ Mure's History of the Literature of Ancient Greece, vol. i. pp. 471, 472. So, too, Tennemann (Geschichte der Philosophie, vol. iii. p. 419): ‘Diese Götter haben Menschengestalt… Haben die Götter aber nicht nur menschliche Gestalt, sondern auch einen menschlichen Körper, so sind sie als Menschen auch denselben Unvollkommenheiten, Krankheiten und dem Tode unterworfen; dieses streitet mit dem Begriffe,’ i. e. of Epicurus. Compare Grote's History of Greece, vol. i. p. 596: ‘The mythical age was peopled with a mingled aggregate of gods, heroes, and men, so confounded together, that it was often impossible to distinguish to which class any individual name belonged.’ See also the complaint of Xenophanes, in Müller's Hist. of Lit. of Greece, London, 1856, p. 251.

269.The same remark applies to beauty of form, which they first aimed at in the statues of men, and then brought to bear upon the statues of the gods. This is well put in Mr. Grote's important work, History of Greece, vol. iv. pp. 133, 134, edit. 1847.

270.‘But the worship of deified heroes is no part of that system.’ Colebrooke on the Vedas, in Asiatic Researches, vol. viii. p. 495.

271.Mackay's Religious Development, vol. ii. p. 53, Lond. 1850. Compare Wilkinson's Ancient Egyptians, vol. iv. pp. 148, 318; and Matter, Histoire de l'Ecole d'Alexandrie, vol. i. p. 2; the ‘culte des grands hommes,’ which afterwards arose in Alexandria (Matter, vol. i. p. 54), must have been owing to Greek influence.

272.There are no indications of it in the Zendavesta; and Herodotus says, that the Persians were unlike the Greeks, in so far as they disbelieved in a god having a human form; book i. chap. cxxxi. vol. i. p. 308: οὐκ ἀνθρωποφυέας ἐνόμισαν τοὺς θεοὺς, κατάπερ Ἔλληνες εῖναι.

273.I am not acquainted with any evidence connecting this worship with the old Arabian religion; and it was certainly most alien to the spirit of Mohammedanism.

274.Mure's History of the Literature of Greece, vol. i. pp. 28, 500, vol. ii. p. 402: very good remarks on a subject handled unsatisfactorily by Coleridge; Literary Remains, vol. i. p. 185. Thirlwall (History of Greece, vol. i. p. 207) admits that ‘the views and feelings out of which it (the worship of heroes) arose, seem to be clearly discernible in the Homeric poems.’ Compare Cudworth's Intellectual System, vol. ii. pp. 226, 372. In the Cratylus, chap. xxxiii., Socrates is represented as asking, Οὐκ οἶσθα ὅτι ἡμίθεοι ἥρωες; Platonis Opera, vol. iv. p. 227, edit. Bekker, Lond. 1826. And in the next century, Alexander obtained for his friend, Hephæstion, the right of being ‘worshipped as a hero’ Grote's History of Greece, vol. xii. p. 339.

275.The adoration of the dead, and particularly the adoration of martyrs, was one great point of opposition between the orthodox church and the Manichæans (Beausobre, Histoire Critique de Manichée, vol. i. p. 316, vol. ii. pp. 651, 669); and it is easy to understand how abhorrent such a practice must have been to the Persian heretics.

276.M. Cousin, in his eloquent and ingenious work (Histoire de la Philosophie, 3e série, vol. i. pp. 183, 187), has some judicious observations on what he calls ‘l'époque de l'infini’ of the East, contrasted with that ‘du fini,’ which began in Europe. But as to the physical causes of this, he only admits the grandeur of nature, overlooking those natural elements of mystery and of danger by which religious sentiments were constantly excited.

277.A learned orientalist says, that no people have made such efforts as the Hindus ‘to solve, exhaust, comprehend, what is insolvable, inexhaustible, incomprehensible.’ Troyer's Preliminary Discourse on the Dabistan, vol. i. p. cviii.

278.This is noticed by Tennemann, who, however, has not attempted to ascertain the cause: ‘Die Einbildungskraft des Griechen war schöpferisch, sie schuf in seinem Innern neue Ideenwelten; aber er wurde doch nie verleitet, die idealische Welt mit der wirklichen zu verwechseln, weil sie immer mit einem richtigen Verstande und gesunder Beurtheilungskraft verbunden war.’ Geschichte der Philosophie, vol. i. p. 8; and vol. vi. p. 490, he says, ‘Bei allen diesen Mängeln und Fehlern sind doch die Griechen die einzige Nation der alten Welt, welche Sinn für Wissenschaft hatte, und zu diesem Behufe forschte. Sie haben doch die Bahn gebrochen, und den Weg zur Wissenschaft geebnet.’ To the same effect, Sprengel, Histoire de la Médecine, vol. i. p. 215. And on this difference between the Eastern and the European mind, see Matter, Histoire du Gnosticisme, vol. i. pp. 18, 233, 234. So, too, Kant (Logik, in Kant's Werke, vol. i. p. 350), ‘Unter allen Völkern haben also die Griechen erst angefangen zu philosophiren. Denn sie haben zuerst versucht, nicht an dem Leitfaden der Bilder die Vernunfterkenntnisse zu cultiviren, sondern in abstracto; statt dass die anderen Völker sich die Begriffe immer nur durch Bilder in concreto verständlich zu machen suchten.’

279.Thus, of one of the idols at Copan, ‘The intention of the sculptor seems to have been to excite terror.’ Stephens's Central America, vol. i. p. 152; at p. 159, ‘The form of sculpture most generally used was a death's head.’ At Mayapan (vol. iii. p. 133), ‘representations of human figures or animals with hideous features and expressions, in producing which the skill of the artist seems to have been expended;’ and again, p. 412, ‘unnatural and grotesque faces.’

280.The most constant gland in the animal kingdom is the liver.’ Grant's Comp. Anat. p. 576. See also Béclard, Anat. Gén. p. 18, and Burdach, Traité de Physiol. vol. ix. p. 580. Burdach says, ‘Il existe dans presque tout le règne animal;’ and the latest researches have detected the rudiments of a liver even in the Entozoa and Rotifera. Rymer Jones's Animal Kingdom, 1855, p. 183, and Owen's Invertebrata, 1855, p. 104.

281.Until the analysis made by Demarçay in 1837, hardly any thing was known of the composition of bile; but this accomplished chemist ascertained that its essential constituent is choleate of soda, and that the choleic acid contains nearly sixty-three per cent. of carbon. Compare Thomson's Animal Chemistry, pp. 59, 60, 412, 602, with Simon's Chemistry, vol. ii. pp. 17–21.

282.‘The size of the liver and the quantity of the bile are not proportionate to the quantity of the food and frequency of eating; but inversely to the size and perfection of the lungs… The liver is proportionately larger in reptiles, which have lungs with large cells incapable of rapidly decarbonizing the blood.’ Good's Study of Medicine, 1829, vol. i. pp. 32, 33. See Cuvier, Règne Animal, vol. ii. p. 2, on ‘la petitesse des vaisseaux pulmonaires’ of reptiles.

283.Carus's Comparative Anatomy, vol. ii. p. 230; Grant's Comp. Anat. pp. 385, 596; Rymer Jones's Animal Kingdom, p. 646.

284.Indeed it has been supposed by M. Gaëde that the ‘vaisseaux biliares’ of some insects were not ‘sécréteurs;’ but this opinion appears to be erroneous. See Latreille, in Cuvier, Règne Animal, vol. iv. pp. 297, 298.

285.‘La prédominance du foie avant la naissance’ is noticed by Bichat (Anatomie Générale, vol. ii. p. 272), and by many other physiologists; but Dr. Elliotson appears to have been one of the first to understand a fact, the explanation of which we might vainly seek for in the earlier writers. ‘The hypothesis, that one great use of the liver was, like that of the lungs, to remove carbon from the system, with this difference, that the alteration of the capacity of the air caused a reception of caloric into the blood, in the case of the lungs, while the hepatic excretion takes place without introduction of caloric, was, I recollect, a great favourite with me when a student… The Heidelberg professors have adduced many arguments to the same effect. In the fœtus, for whose temperature the mother's heat must be sufficient, the lungs perform no function; but the liver is of great size, and bile is secreted abundantly, so that the meconium accumulates considerably during the latter months of pregnancy.’ Elliotson's Human Physiology, 1840, p. 102. In Lepelletier's Physiologie Médicale, vol. i. p. 466, vol. ii. pp. 14, 546, 550, all this is sadly confused.

286.‘The liver is the first-formed organ in the embryo. It is developed from the alimentary canal, and at about the third week fills the whole abdomen, and is one-half the weight of the entire embryo… At birth it is of very large size, and occupies the whole upper part of the abdomen… The liver diminishes rapidly after birth, probably from obliteration of the umbilical vein.’ Wilson's Human Anatomy, 1851, p. 638. Compare Burdach's Physiologie, vol. iv. p. 447, where it is said of the liver in childhood, ‘Cet organe croît avec lenteur, surtout comparativement aux poumons; le rapport de ceux-ci au foie étant à peu près de 1:3 avant la respiration, il était de 1:1.86 après l'établissement de cette dernière fonction.’ See also p. 91, and vol. iii. p. 483; and on the predominance of the liver in fœtal life, see the remarks of Serres (Geoffroy Saint-Hilaire, Anomalies de l'Organisation, vol. ii. p. 11), whose generalization is perhaps a little premature.

287.This diminution of casualties is undoubtedly one cause, though a slight one, of the increased duration of life; but the most active cause is a general improvement in the physical condition of man: see Sir B. Brodie's Lectures on Pathology and Surgery, p. 212; and for proof that civilized men are stronger than uncivilized ones, see Quetelet, sur l'Homme, vol. ii. pp. 67, 272; Lawrence's Lectures on Man, pp. 275, 276; Ellis's Polynesian Researches, vol. i. p. 98; Whately's Lectures on Political Economy, 8vo. 1831, p. 59; Journal of the Statistical Society, vol. xvii. pp. 32, 33; Dufau, Traité de Statistique, p. 107; Hawkins's Medical Statistics, p. 232.

288.The general social consequences of this I shall hereafter consider; but the mere economical consequences are well expressed by Mr. Mill: ‘Of the features which characterize this progressive economical movement of civilized nations, that which first excites attention, through its intimate connexion with the phenomena of Production, is the perpetual, and, so far as human foresight can extend, the unlimited, growth of man's power over nature. Our knowledge of the properties and laws of physical objects shows no sign of approaching its ultimate boundaries; it is advancing more rapidly, and in a greater number of directions at once, than in any previous age or generation, and affording such frequent glimpses of unexplored fields beyond, as to justify the belief that our acquaintance with nature is still almost in its infancy.’ Mill's Principles of Polit. Economy, vol. ii. pp. 246–7.

289.What this horrible disease once was, may be estimated from the fact, ‘qu'au treizième siècle on comptait en France seulement, deux mille léproseries, et que l'Europe entière renfermait environ dix-neuf mille établissemens semblables.’ Sprengel, Histoire de la Médecine, vol. ii. p. 374. As to the mortality caused by the plague, see Clot-Bey, de la Peste, Paris, 1840, pp. 62, 63, 185, 292.

290.For a curious list of famines, see an essay by Mr. Farr, in Journal of the Statistical Society, vol. ix. pp. 159–163. He says, that in the eleventh, twelfth, and thirteenth centuries, the average was, in England, one famine every fourteen years.

291.In the opinion of one of the highest living authorities, famine is, even in the present state of chemistry, ‘next to impossible.’ Herschel's Discourse on Natural Philosophy, p. 65. Cuvier (Recueil des Eloges, vol. i. p. 10) says that we have succeeded ‘a rendre toute famine impossible.’ See also Godwin on Population, p. 500; and for a purely economical argument to prove the impossibility of famine, see Mill's Principles of Political Economy, vol. ii. p. 258; and compare a note in Ricardo's Works, p. 191. The Irish famine may seem an exception: but it could have been easily baffled except for the poverty of the people, which frustrated our efforts to reduce it to a dearth.

292.‘As the metaphysician carries within himself the materials of his reasoning, he is not under a necessity of looking abroad for subjects of speculation or amusement.’ Stewart's Philosophy of the Mind, vol. i. p. 462; and the same remark, almost literally repeated, at vol. iii. p. 260. Locke makes what passes in each man's mind the sole source of metaphysics, and the sole test of their truth. Essay concerning Human Understanding, in Locke's Works, vol. i. pp. 18, 76, 79, 121, 146, 152, 287, vol. ii. pp. 141, 243.

293.The deductive sciences form, of course, an exception to this; but the whole theory of metaphysics is founded on its inductive character, and on the supposition that it consists of generalized observations, and that from them alone the science of mind can be raised.

294.These remarks are only applicable to those who follow the purely metaphysical method of investigation. There is, however, a very small number of metaphysicians, among whom M. Cousin is the most eminent in France, in whose works we find larger views, and an attempt to connect historical inquiries with metaphysical ones; thus recognizing the necessity of verifying their original speculations. To this method there can be no objection, provided the metaphysical conclusions are merely regarded as hypothesis, which require verification to raise them to theories. But, instead of this cautious proceeding, the almost invariable plan is, to treat the hypothesis as if it were a theory already proved, and as if there remained nothing to do but to give historical illustrations of truths established by the psychologist. This confusion between illustration and verification appears to be the universal failing of those who, like Vico and Fichte, speculate upon historical phenomena à priori.

295.Compare Stewart's Philosophy of the Mind, vol. ii. p. 194, with Cousin, Hist. de la Philosophie, II. série, vol. ii. p. 92. Among the Indian metaphysicians, there was a sect which declared space to be the cause of all things. Journal of Asiatic Soc. vol. vi. pp. 268, 290. See also the Dabistan, vol. ii. p. 40, which, however, was contrary to the Vedas. Rammohun Roy on the Veds, 1832, pp. 8, 111. In Spain, the doctrine of the infinity of space is heretical. Doblado's Letters, p. 96; which should be compared with the objection of Irenæus against the Valentinians, in Beausobre, Histoire de Manichée, vol. ii. p. 275. For the different theories of space, I may, moreover, refer to Ritter's Hist. of Ancient Philosophy, vol. i. pp. 451, 473, 477, vol. ii. p. 314, vol. iii. pp. 195–204; Cudworth's Intellectual System, vol. i. p. 191, vol. iii. pp. 230, 472; Kritik der reinen Vernunft, in Kant's Werke, vol. ii. pp. 23, 62, 81, 120, 139, 147, 256, 334, 347; Tennemann, Geschichte der Philosophie, vol. i. p. 109, vol. ii. p. 303, vol. iii. pp. 130–137, vol. iv. p. 284, vol. v. pp. 384–387, vol. vi. p. 99, vol. viii. pp. 87, 88, 683, vol. ix. pp. 257, 355, 410, vol. x. p. 79, vol. xi. pp. 195, 385–389.

296.This is the title conferred by M. Cousin upon nearly all the greatest English metaphysicians, and upon Condillac and all his disciples in France, their system having ‘le nom mérité de sensualisme.’ Cousin, Histoire de la Philosophie, II. série, vol. ii. p. 88. The same name is given to the same school, in Feuchtersleben's Medical Psychology, p. 52, and in Renouard's Histoire de la Médecine, vol. i. p. 346, vol. ii. p. 368. In Jobert's New System of Philosophy, vol. ii. p. 334, 8vo. 1849, it is called ‘sensationalism,’ which seems a preferable expression.

297.This is very ably argued by Mr. James Mill in his Analysis of the Phenomena of the Human Mind, vol. ii. pp. 32, 93–95, and elsewhere. Compare Essay concerning Human Understanding, in Locke's Works, vol. i. pp. 147, 148, 154, 157, and the ingenious distinction, p. 198, ‘between the idea of the infinity of space, and the idea of a space infinite.’ At p. 208, Locke sarcastically says, ‘But yet, after all this, there being men who persuade themselves that they have clear, positive, comprehensive ideas of infinity, it is fit they enjoy their privilege; and I should be very glad (with some others that I know, who acknowledge they have none such) to be better informed by their communication.’

298.Mill's Analysis of the Mind, vol. ii. pp. 96, 97. See also the Examination of Malebranche, in Locke's Works, vol. viii. pp. 248, 249; and Müller's Elements of Physiology, vol. ii. p. 1081, which should be compared with Comte, Philosophie Positive, vol. i. p. 354.

299.I speak of idealists in opposition to sensationalists; though the word idealist is often used by metaphysicians in a very different sense. On the different kinds of idealism, see Kritik der reinen Vernunft, and Prolegomena zu jeder künftigen Metaphysik, in Kant's Werke, vol. ii. pp. 223, 389, vol. iii. pp. 204, 210, 306, 307. According to him, the Cartesian idealism is empirical.

300.Thus, Dugald Stewart (Philosophical Essays, Edin. 1810, p. 33) tells us of ‘the simple idea of personal identity.’ And Reid (Essays on the Powers of the Mind, vol. i. p. 354) says, ‘I know of no ideas or notions that have a better claim to be accounted simple and original than those of space and time.’ In the Sanscrit metaphysics, time is ‘an independent cause.’ See the Vishnu Purana, pp. 10, 216.

301.‘As Space is a comprehensive word, including all positions, or the whole of synchronous order, so Time is a comprehensive word, including all successions, or the whole of successive order.’ Mill's Analysis of the Mind, vol. ii. p. 100; and on the relation of time to memory, vol. i. p. 252. In Jobert's New System of Philosophy, vol. i. p. 33, it is said that ‘time is nothing but the succession of events, and we know events by experience only.’ See also p. 133, and compare respecting time Condillac, Traité des Sensations, pp. 104–114, 222, 223, 331–333. To the same effect is Essay concerning Human Understanding, book ii. chap. xiv., in Locke's Works, vol. i. p. 163; and see his second reply to the Bishop of Worcester, in Works, vol. iii. pp. 414–416; and as to the idea of substance, see vol. i. pp. 285–290, 292, 308, vol. iii. pp. 5, 10, 17.