Chapter VII (4)

[1111] In literature and in theology, Chateaubriand and De Maistre were
certainly the most eloquent, and were probably the most
influential leaders of this reaction. Neither of them liked
induction, but preferred reasoning deductively from premises
which they assumed, and which they called first principles. De
Maistre, however, was a powerful dialectician, and on that
account his works are read by many who care nothing for the
gorgeous declamation of Chateaubriand. In metaphysics, a
precisely similar movement occurred; and Laromiguière, Royer
Collard, and Maine de Biran, founded that celebrated school
which culminated in M. Cousin, and which is equally
characterized by an ignorance of the philosophy of induction,
and by a want of sympathy with physical science.

These great phenomena, which the French intellect presents, and of which I have only sketched a rapid outline, will be related with suitable detail in the latter part of this work, when I shall examine the present condition of the European mind, and endeavour to estimate its future prospects. To complete, however, our appreciation of Bichat, it will be necessary to take notice of what some consider the most valuable of all his productions, in which he aimed at nothing less than an exhaustive generalization of the functions of life. It appears, indeed, to me, that in many important points Bichat here fell short; but the work itself still stands alone, and is so striking an instance of the genius of the author, that I will give a short account of its fundamental views.

Life considered as a whole has two distinct branches;[1112] one branch being characteristic of animals, the other of vegetables. That which is confined to animals is called animal life; that which is common both to animals and vegetables is called organic life. While, therefore, plants have only one life, man has two distinct lives, which are governed by entirely different laws, and which, though intimately connected, constantly oppose each other. In the organic life, man exists solely for himself; in the animal life he comes in contact with others. The functions of the first are purely internal, those of the second are external. His organic life is limited to the double process of creation and destruction: the creative process being that of assimilation, as digestion, circulation, and nutrition; the destructive process being that of excretion, such as exhalation and the like. This is what man has in common with plants; and of this life he, when in a natural state, is unconscious. But the characteristic of his animal life is consciousness, since by it he is made capable of moving, of feeling, of judging. By virtue of the first life he is merely a vegetable; by the addition of the second he becomes an animal.

[1112] _Bichat_, _Recherches sur la Vie et la Mort_, pp. 5-9, 226; and
his _Anat. Gén._ vol. i. p. 72.

If now we look at the organs by which in man the functions of these two lives are carried on, we shall be struck by the remarkable fact, that the organs of his vegetable life are very irregular, those of his animal life very symmetrical. His vegetative, or organic, life is conducted by the stomach, the intestines, and the glandular system in general, such as the liver and the pancreas; all of which are irregular, and admit of the greatest variety of form and development, without their functions being seriously disturbed. But in his animal life the organs are so essentially symmetrical, that a very slight departure from the ordinary type impairs their action.[1113] Not only the brain, but also the organs of sense, as the eyes, the nose, the ears, are perfectly symmetrical; and they as well as the other organs of animal life, as the feet and hands, are double, presenting on each side of the body two separate parts which correspond with each other, and produce a symmetry unknown to our vegetative life, the organs of which are, for the most part, merely single, as in the stomach, liver, pancreas, and spleen.[1114]

[1113] 'C'est de là, sans doute, que naît cette autre différence entre
les organes des deux vies, savoir, que la nature se livre bien
plus rarement à des écarts de conformation dans la vie animale
que dans la vie organique.... C'est une remarque qui n'a pu
échapper à celui dont les dissections ont été un peu
multipliées, que les fréquentes variations de formes, de
grandeur, de position, de direction des organes internes, comme
la rate, le foie, l'estomac, les reins, les organes salivaires,
etc.... Jetons maintenant les yeux sur les organes de la vie
animale, sur les sens, les nerfs, le cerveau, les muscles
volontaires, le larynx; tout y est exact, précis, rigoureusement
déterminé dans la forme, la grandeur et la position. On n'y voit
presque jamais de variétés, de conformation; s'il en existe, les
fonctions sont troublées, anéanties; tandis qu'elles restent les
mêmes dans la vie organique, au milieu des altérations diverses
des parties.' _Bichat sur la Vie_, pp. 23-25. Part of this view
is corroborated by the evidence collected by Saint Hilaire
(_Anomalies de l'Organisation_, vol. i. pp. 248 seq.) of the
extraordinary aberrations to which the vegetative organs are
liable; and he mentions (vol. ii. p. 8) the case of a man, in
whose body, on dissection, 'on reconnut que tous les viscères
étaient transposés.' Comparative anatomy supplies another
illustration. The bodies of mollusca are less symmetrical than
those of articulata; and in the former, the 'vegetal series of
organs,' says Mr. Owen, are more developed than the animal
series; while in the articulata, 'the advance is most
conspicuous in the organs peculiar to animal life.' _Owen's
Invertebrata_, p. 470. Compare _Burdach's Physiologie_, vol. i.
pp. 153, 189; and a confirmation of the 'unsymmetrical' organs
of the gasterpoda, in _Grant's Comparative Anatomy_, p. 461.
This curious antagonism is still further seen in the
circumstance, that idiots, whose functions of nutrition and of
excretion are often very active, are at the same time remarkable
for a want of symmetry in the organs of sensation. _Esquirol_,
_Maladies Mentales_, vol. ii. pp. 331, 332.

A result, though perhaps an unconscious one, of the application
and extension of these ideas, is, that within the last few years
there has arisen a pathological theory of what are called
'symmetrical diseases,' the leading facts of which have been
long known, but are now only beginning to be generalized. See
_Paget's Pathology_, vol. i. pp. 18-22, vol. ii. pp. 244, 245;
_Simon's Pathology_, pp. 210, 211; _Carpenter's Human Physiol._
pp. 607, 608.

[1114] _Bichat sur la Vie_, pp. 15-21.

From this fundamental difference between the organs of the two lives, there have arisen several other differences of great interest. Our animal life being double, while our organic life is single, it becomes possible for the former life to take rest, that is, stop part of its functions for a time, and afterwards renew them. But in organic life, to stop is to die. The life, which we have in common with vegetables, never sleeps; and if its movements entirely cease only for a single instant, they cease for ever. That process by which our bodies receive some substances and give out others, admits of no interruption; it is, by its nature, incessant, because, being single, it can never receive supplementary aid. The other life we may refresh, not only in sleep, but even when we are awake. Thus we can exercise the organs of movement while we rest the organs of thought; and it is even possible to relieve a function while we continue to employ it, because, our animal life being double, we are able for a short time, in case of one of its parts being fatigued, to avail ourselves of the corresponding part; using, for instance, a single eye or a single arm, in order to rest the one which circumstances may have exhausted; an expedient which the single nature of organic life entirely prevents.[1115]

[1115] _Ibid._ pp. 21-50.

Our animal life being thus essentially intermittent, and our organic life being essentially continuous,[1116] it has necessarily followed that the first is capable of an improvement of which the second is incapable. There can be no improvement without comparison, since it is only by comparing one state with another that we can rectify previous errors, and avoid future ones. Now, our organic life does not admit of such comparison, because, being uninterrupted, it is not broken into stages, but when unchequered by disease, runs on in dull monotony. On the other hand, the functions of our animal life, such as thought, speech, sight, and motion, cannot be long exercised without rest; and as they are constantly suspended, it becomes practicable to compare them, and, therefore, to improve them. It is by possessing this resource that the first cry of the infant gradually rises into the perfect speech of the man, and the unformed habits of early thought are ripened into that maturity which nothing can give but a long series of successive efforts.[1117] But our organic life, which we have in common with vegetables, admits of no interruption, and consequently of no improvement. It obeys its own laws; but it derives no benefit from that repetition to which animal life is exclusively indebted. Its functions, such as nutrition and the like, exist in man several months before he is born, and while, his animal life not having yet begun, the faculty of comparison, which is the basis of improvement, is impossible.[1118] And although, as the human frame increases in size, its vegetative organs become larger, it cannot be supposed that their functions really improve, since, in ordinary cases, their duties are performed as regularly and as completely in childhood as in middle age.[1119]

[1116] On intermittence as a quality of animal life, see _Holland's
Medical Notes_, pp. 313, 314, where Bichat is mentioned as its
great expounder. As to the essential continuity of organic life,
see _Burdach's Physiologie_, vol. vii. p. 420. M. Comte has made
some interesting remarks on Bichat's law of intermittence.
_Philos. Positive_, vol. iii. pp. 300, 395, 744, 745, 750, 751.

[1117] On the development arising from practice, see _Bichat sur la
Vie_, pp. 207-225.

[1118] _Ibid._ pp. 189-203, 225-230. M. Broussais also (in his able
work, _Cours de Phrénologie_, p. 487) says, that comparison only
begins after birth; but surely this must be very doubtful. Few
physiologists will deny that embryological phenomena, though
neglected by metaphysicians, play a great part in shaping the
future character; and I do not see how any system of psychology
can be complete which ignores considerations, probable in
themselves, and not refuted by special evidence. So carelessly,
however, has this subject been investigated, that we have the
most conflicting statements respecting even the _vagitus
uterinus_, which, if it exists to the extent alleged by some
physiologists, would be a decisive proof that animal life (in
the sense of Bichat) does begin during the f[oe]tal period.
Compare _Burdach_, _Physiol._ vol. iv. pp. 113, 114, with
_Wagner's Physiol._ p. 182.

[1119] 'Les organes internes qui entrent alors en exercice, ou qui
accroissent beaucoup leur action, n'ont besoin d'aucune
éducation; ils atteignent tout à coup une perfection à laquelle
ceux de la vie animale ne parviennent que par habitude d'agir
souvent.' _Bichat sur la Vie_, p. 231.

Thus it is, that although other causes conspire, it may be said that the progressiveness of animal life is due to its intermittence; the unprogressiveness of organic life to its continuity. It may, moreover, be said, that the intermittence of the first life results from the symmetry of its organs, while the continuity of the second life results from their irregularity. To this wide and striking generalization, many objections may be made, some of them apparently insuperable; but that it contains the germs of great truths I entertain little doubt, and, at all events, it is certain that the method cannot be too highly praised, for it unites the study of function and structure with that of embryology, of vegetable physiology, of the theory of comparison, and of the influence of habit; a vast and magnificent field, which the genius of Bichat was able to cover, but of which, since him, neither physiologists nor metaphysicians have even attempted a general survey.

This stationary condition, during the present century, of a subject of such intense interest, is a decisive proof of the extraordinary genius of Bichat; since, notwithstanding the additions made to physiology, and to every branch of physics connected with it, nothing has been done at all comparable to that theory of life which he, with far inferior resources, was able to construct. This stupendous work he left, indeed, very imperfect; but even in its deficiencies we see the hand of the great master, whom, on his own subject, no one has yet approached. His essay on life may well be likened to those broken fragments of ancient art, which, imperfect as they are, still bear the impress of the inspiration which gave them birth, and present in each separate part that unity of conception which to us makes them a complete and living whole.

From the preceding summary of the progress of physical knowledge, the reader may form some idea of the ability of those eminent men who arose in France during the latter half of the eighteenth century. To complete the picture, it is only necessary to examine what was done in the two remaining branches of natural history, namely, botany and mineralogy, in both of which the first great steps towards raising each study to a science were taken by Frenchmen a few years before the Revolution.

In botany, although our knowledge of particular facts has, during the last hundred years, rapidly increased,[1120] we are only possessed of two generalizations wide enough to be called laws of nature. The first generalization concerns the structure of plants; the other concerns their physiology. That concerning their physiology is the beautiful morphological law, according to which the different appearance of the various organs arises from arrested development: the stamens, pistils, corolla, calyx, and bracts being simple modifications or successive stages of the leaf. This is one of many valuable discoveries we owe to Germany; it being made by Göthe late in the eighteenth century.[1121] With its importance every botanist is familiar; while to the historian of the human mind it is peculiarly interesting, as strengthening that great doctrine of development, towards which the highest branches of knowledge are now hastening, and which, in the present century, has been also carried into one of the most difficult departments of animal physiology.[1122]

[1120] Dioscorides and Galen knew from 450 to 600 plants (_Winckler_,
_Geschichte der Botanik_, 1854, pp. 34, 40); but, according to
Cuvier (_Eloges_, vol. iii. p. 468), Linnæus, in 1778, 'en
indiquait environ huit mille espèces;' and Meyen (_Geog. of
Plants_, p. 4) says, at the time of Linnæus's death, 'about
8,000 species were known.' (Dr. Whewell, in his _Bridgewater
Treatise_, p. 247, says, 'about 10,000.') Since then the
progress has been uninterrupted; and in _Henslow's Botany_,
1837, p. 136, we are told that 'the number of species already
known and classified in works of botany amounts to about
60,000.' Ten years later, Dr. Lindley (_Vegetable Kingdom_,
1847, p. 800) states them at 92,930; and two years afterwards,
Mr. Balfour says 'about 100,000.' _Balfour's Botany_, 1849, p.
560. Such is the rate at which our knowledge of nature is
advancing. To complete this historical note, I ought to have
mentioned, that in 1812, Dr. Thomson says 'nearly 30,000 species
of plants have been examined and described.' _Thomson's Hist. of
the Royal Society_, p. 21.

[1121] It was published in 1790. _Winckler_, _Gesch. der Botanik_, p.
389. But the historians of botany have overlooked a short
passage in Göthe's works, which proves that he had glimpses of
the discovery in or before 1786. See _Italiänische Reise_, in
_Göthe's Werke_, vol. ii. part ii. p. 286, Stuttgart, 1837,
where he writes from Padua, in September 1786, 'Hier in dieser
neu mir entgegen tretenden Mannigfaltigkeit wird jener Gedanke
immer lebendiger: dass man sich alle Pflanzengestalten
vielleicht aus Einer entwickeln könne.' There are some
interesting remarks on this brilliant generalization in _Owen's
Parthenogenesis_, 1849, pp. 53 seq.

[1122] That is, into the study of animal monstrosities, which, however
capricious they may appear, are now understood to be the
necessary result of preceding events. Within the last thirty
years several of the laws of these unnatural births, as they
used to be called, have been discovered; and it has been proved
that, so far from being unnatural, they are strictly natural. A
fresh science has thus been created, under the name of
Teratology, which is destroying the old _lusus naturæ_ in one of
its last and favourite strongholds.

But the most comprehensive truth with which we are acquainted respecting plants, is that which includes the whole of their general structure; and this we learnt from those great Frenchmen who, in the latter half of the eighteenth century, began to study the external world. The first steps were taken directly after the middle of the century, by Adanson, Duhamel de Monceau, and, above all, Desfontaines; three eminent thinkers, who proved the practicability of a natural method hitherto unknown, and of which even Ray himself had only a faint perception.[1123] This, by weakening the influence of the artificial system of Linnæus,[1124] prepared the way for an innovation more complete than has been effected in any other branch of knowledge. In the very year in which the Revolution occurred, Jussieu put forward a series of botanical generalizations, of which the most important are all intimately connected, and still remain the highest this department of inquiry has reached.[1125] Among these, I need only mention the three vast propositions which are now admitted to form the basis of vegetable anatomy. The first is, that the vegetable kingdom, in its whole extent, is composed of plants either with one cotyledon, or with two cotyledons, or else with no cotyledon at all. The second proposition is, that this classification, so far from being artificial, is strictly natural; since it is a law of nature, that plants having one cotyledon are endogenous, and grow by additions made to the centre of their stems, while, on the other hand, plants having two cotyledons are exogenous, and are compelled to grow by additions made, not to the centre of their stems, but to the circumference.[1126] The third proposition is, that when plants grow at their centre, the arrangement of the fruit and leaves is threefold; when, however, they grow at the circumference, it is nearly always fivefold.[1127]

[1123] Dr. Lindley (_Third Report of Brit. Assoc._ p. 33) says, that
Desfontaines was the first who demonstrated the opposite modes
of increase in dicotyledonous and monocotyledonous stems. See
also _Richard_, _Eléments de Botanique_, p. 131; and _Cuvier_,
_Eloges_, vol. i. p. 64. In regard to the steps taken by Adanson
and De Monceau, see _Winckler_, _Gesch. der Botanik_, pp. 204,
205; _Thomson's Chemistry of Vegetables_, p. 951; _Lindley's
Introduc. to Botany_, vol. ii. p. 132.

[1124] It is curious to observe how even good botanists clung to the
Linnæan system long after the superiority of a natural system
was proved. This is the more noticeable, because Linnæus, who
was a man of undoubted genius, and who possessed extraordinary
powers of combination, always allowed that his own system was
merely provisional, and that the great object to be attained was
a classification according to natural families. See _Winckler_,
_Geschichte der Botanik_, p. 202; and _Richard_, _Eléments de
Botanique_, p. 570. Indeed, what could be thought of the
permanent value of a scheme which put together the reed and the
barberry, because they were both hexandria; and forced sorrel to
associate with saffron, because both were trigynia? _Jussieu's
Botany_, 1849, p. 524.

[1125] _The Genera Plantarum_ of Antoine Jussieu was printed at Paris in
1789; and, though it is known to have been the result of many
years of continued labour, some writers have asserted that the
ideas in it were borrowed from his uncle, Bernard Jussieu. But
assertions of this kind rarely deserve attention; and as Bernard
did not choose to publish anything of his own, his reputation
ought to suffer for his uncommunicativeness. Compare _Winckler_,
_Gesch. der Botanik_, pp. 261-272, with _Biog. Univ._ vol. xxii.
pp. 162-166. I will only add the following remarks from a work
of authority, _Richard_, _Eléments de Botanique_, Paris, 1846,
p. 572: 'Mais ce ne fut qu'en 1789 que l'on eut véritablement un
ouvrage complet sur la méthode des familles naturelles. Le
_Genera Plantarum_ d'A. L. de Jussieu présenta la science des
végétaux sous un point de vue si nouveau, par la précision et
l'élégance qui y règnent, par la profondeur et la justesse des
principes généraux qui y sont exposés pour la première fois, que
c'est depuis cette époque seulement que la méthode des familles
naturelles a été véritablement créée, et que date la nouvelle
ère de la science des végétaux.... L'auteur du _Genera
Plantarum_ posa le premier les bases de la science, en faisant
voir quelle était l'importance relative des différents organes
entre eux, et par conséquent leur valeur dans la
classification.... Il a fait, selon la remarque de Cuvier, la
même révolution dans les sciences d'observation que la chimie de
Lavoisier dans les sciences d'expérience. En effet, il a non
seulement changé la face de la botanique; mais son influence
s'est également exercée sur les autres branches de l'histoire
naturelle, et y a introduit cet esprit de recherches, de
comparaison, et cette méthode philosophique et naturelle, vers
le perfectionnement de laquelle tendent désormais les efforts de
tous les naturalistes.'

[1126] Hence the removal of a great source of error; since it is now
understood that in dicotyledons alone can age be known with
certainty. _Henslow's Botany_, p. 243: compare _Richard_,
_Eléments de Botanique_, p. 159, aphorisme xxiv. On the stems of
endogenous plants, which, being mostly tropical, have been less
studied than the exogenous, see _Lindley's Botany_, vol. i. pp.
221-236; where there is also an account, pp. 229 seq., of the
views which Schleiden advanced on this subject in 1839.

[1127] On the arrangement of the leaves, now called phyllotaxis, see
_Balfour's Botany_, p. 92; _Burdach's Physiologie_, vol. v.
p. 518.

This is what was effected by the Frenchmen of the eighteenth century for the vegetable kingdom:[1128] and if we now turn to the mineral kingdom, we shall find that our obligations to them are equally great. The study of minerals is the most imperfect of the three branches of natural history, because, notwithstanding its apparent simplicity, and the immense number of experiments which have been made, the true method of investigation has not yet been ascertained; it being doubtful whether mineralogy ought to be subordinated to the laws of chemistry, or to those of crystallography, or whether both sets of laws will have to be considered.[1129] At all events it is certain that, down to the present time, chemistry has shown itself unable to reduce mineralogical phenomena; nor has any chemist, possessing sufficient powers of generalization, attempted the task except Berzelius; and most of his conclusions were overthrown by the splendid discovery of isomorphism, for which, as is well known, we are indebted to Mitscherlich, one of the many great thinkers Germany has produced.[1130]

[1128] The classification by cotyledons has been so successful, that,
'with very few exceptions, however, nearly all plants may be
referred by any botanist, at a single glance, and with unerring
certainty, to their proper class; and a mere fragment even of
the stem, leaf, or some other part, is often quite sufficient to
enable him to decide this question.' _Henslow's Botany_, p. 30.
In regard to some difficulties still remaining in the way of the
threefold cotyledonous division of the whole vegetable world,
see _Lindley's Botany_, vol. ii. pp. 61 seq.

[1129] Mr. Swainson (_Study of Natural History_, p. 356) says
'mineralogy, indeed, which forms but a part of chemistry.' This
is deciding the question very rapidly; but in the meantime, what
becomes of the geometrical laws of minerals? and what are we to
do with that relation between their structure and optical
phenomena, which Sir David Brewster has worked out with signal
ability?

[1130] The difficulties introduced into the study of minerals by the
discovery of isomorphism and polymorphism, are no doubt
considerable; but M. Beudant (_Minéralogie_, Paris, 1841, p. 37)
seems to me to exaggerate their effect upon 'l'importance des
formes crystallines.' They are much more damaging to the purely
chemical arrangement, because our implements for measuring the
minute angles of crystals are still very imperfect, and the
goniometer may fail in detecting differences which really exist;
and, therefore, many alleged cases of isomorphism are probably
not so in reality. Wollaston's reflecting goniometer has been
long considered the best instrument possessed by
crystallographers; but I learn from _Liebig and Kopp's Reports_,
vol. i. pp. 19, 20, that Frankenheim has recently invented one
for measuring the angles of 'microscopic crystals.' On the
amount of error in the measurement of angles, see _Phillips's
Mineralogy_, 1837, p. viii.

Although the chemical department of mineralogy is in an unformed and indeed anarchical condition, its other department, namely, crystallography, has made great progress; and here again the earliest steps were taken by two Frenchmen, who lived in the latter half of the eighteenth century. About 1760, Romé De Lisle[1131] set the first example of studying crystals, according to a scheme so large as to include all the varieties of their primary forms, and to account for their irregularities, and the apparent caprice with which they were arranged. In this investigation he was guided by the fundamental assumption, that what is called an irregularity, is in truth perfectly regular, and that the operations of nature are invariable.[1132] Scarcely had this great idea been applied to the almost innumerable forms into which minerals crystallize, when it was followed up with still larger resources by Haüy, another eminent Frenchman.[1133] This remarkable man achieved a complete union between mineralogy and geometry; and, bringing the laws of space to bear on the molecular arrangements of matter, he was able to penetrate into the intimate structure of crystals.[1134] By this means, he succeeded in proving that the secondary forms of all crystals are derived from their primary forms by a regular process of decrement;[1135] and that, when a substance is passing from a liquid to a solid state, its particles are compelled to cohere, according to a scheme which provides for every possible change, since it includes even those subsequent layers which alter the ordinary type of the crystal, by disturbing its natural symmetry.[1136] To ascertain that such violations of symmetry are susceptible of mathematical calculation, was to make a vast addition to our knowledge; but what seems to me still more important is, that it indicates an approach to the magnificent idea, that every thing which occurs is regulated by law, and that confusion and disorder are impossible.[1137] For, by proving that even the most uncouth and singular forms of minerals are the natural results of their antecedents, Haüy laid the foundation of what may be called the pathology of the inorganic world. However paradoxical such a notion may seem, it is certain that symmetry is to crystals what health is to animals; so that an irregularity of shape in the first, corresponds with an appearance of disease in the second.[1138] When, therefore, the minds of men became familiarized with the great truth, that in the mineral kingdom there is, properly speaking, no irregularity, it became more easy for them to grasp the still higher truth, that the same principle holds good of the animal kingdom, although, from the superior complexity of the phenomena, it will be long before we can arrive at an equal demonstration. But, that such a demonstration is possible, is the principle upon which the future progress of all organic, and indeed of all mental science, depends. And it is very observable, that the same generation which established the fact, that the apparent aberrations presented by minerals are strictly regular, also took the first steps towards establishing the far higher fact, that the aberrations of the human mind are governed by laws as unfailing as those which determine the condition of inert matter. The examination of this would lead to a digression foreign to my present design; but I may mention that, at the end of the century, there was written in France the celebrated treatise on insanity, by Pinel; a work remarkable in many respects, but chiefly in this, that in it the old notions respecting the mysterious and inscrutable character of mental disease are altogether discarded:[1139] the disease itself is considered as a phenomenon inevitably occurring under certain given conditions, and the foundation laid for supplying another link in that vast chain of evidence which connects the material with the immaterial, and thus uniting mind and matter into a single study, is now preparing the way for some generalization, which, being common to both, shall serve as a centre round which the disjointed fragments of our knowledge may safely rally.

[1131] He says, 'depuis plus de vingt ans que je m'occupe de cet objet.'
_Romé de Lisle_, _Cristallographie, ou Description des Formes
propres à tous les Corps du Règne Minéral_, Paris, 1783, vol. i.
p. 91.

[1132] See his _Essai de Cristallographie_, Paris, 1772, p. x.: 'un de
ceux qui m'a le plus frappé ce sont les formes régulières et
constantes que prennent naturellement certains corps que nous
désignons par le nom de cristaux.' In the same work, p. 13: 'il
faut nécessairement supposer que les molécules intégrantes des
corps ont chacune, suivant qui lui est propre, une figure
constante et déterminée.' In his later treatise
(_Cristallographie_, 1783, vol. i. p. 70), after giving some
instances of the extraordinary complications presented by
minerals, he adds: 'Il n'est donc pas étonnant que d'habiles
chimistes n'aient rien vu de constant ni de déterminé dans les
formes cristallines, tandis qu'il n'en est aucune qu'on ne
puisse, avec un peu d'attention rapporter à la figure
élémentaire et primordiale dont elle dérive.' Even Buffon,
notwithstanding his fine perception of law, had just declared,
'qu'en général la forme de cristallisation n'est pas un
caractère constant, mais plus équivoque et plus variable
qu'aucun autre des caractères par lesquels on doit distinguer
les minéraux.' _De Lisle_, vol. i. p. xviii. Compare, on this
great achievement of De Lisle's, _Herschel's Nat. Philos._ p.
239: 'he first ascertained the important fact of the constancy
of the angles at which their faces meet.'

[1133] The first work of Haüy appeared in 1784 (_Quérard_, _France
Littéraire_, vol. iv. p. 41); but he had read two special
memoirs in 1781. _Cuvier_, _Eloges_, vol. iii. p. 138. The
intellectual relation between his views and those of his
predecessor must be obvious to every mineralogist; but Dr.
Whewell, who has noticed this judiciously enough, adds (_Hist.
of the Induc. Sciences_, vol. iii. pp. 229, 230): 'Unfortunately
Romé de Lisle and Haüy were not only rivals, but in some measure
enemies.... Haüy revenged himself by rarely mentioning Romé in
his works, though it was manifest that his obligations to him
were immense; and by recording his errors while he corrected
them.' The truth, however, is, that so far from rarely
mentioning De Lisle, he mentions him incessantly; and I have
counted upwards of three hundred instances in Haüy's great work,
in which he is named, and his writings are referred to. On one
occasion he says of De Lisle, 'En un mot, sa cristallographie
est le fruit d'un travail immense par son étendue, presque
entièrement neuf par son objet, et très-précieux par son
utilité.' _Haüy_, _Traité de Minéralogie_, Paris, 1801, vol. i.
p. 17. Elsewhere he calls him, 'cet habile naturaliste; ce
savant célèbre,' vol. ii. p. 323; 'ce célèbre naturaliste,' vol.
iii. p. 442; see also vol. iv. pp. 51, &c. In a work of so much
merit as Dr. Whewell's, it is important that these errors should
be indicated, because we have no other book of value on the
general history of the sciences; and many authors have deceived
themselves and their readers, by implicitly adopting the
statements of this able and industrious writer. I would
particularly caution the student in regard to the physiological
part of Dr. Whewell's History, where, for instance, the
antagonism between the methods of Cuvier and Bichat is entirely
lost sight of, and while whole pages are devoted to Cuvier,
Bichat is disposed of in four lines.

[1134] 'Haüy est donc le seul véritable auteur de la science
mathématique des cristaux.' _Cuvier_, _Progrès des Sciences_,
vol. i. p. 8; see also p. 317. Dr. Clarke, whose celebrated
lectures on mineralogy excited much attention among his hearers,
was indebted for some of his principal views to his
conversations with Haüy: see _Otter's Life of Clarke_, vol. ii.
p. 192.

[1135] See an admirable statement of the three forms of decrement, in
_Haüy_, _Traité de Minéralogie_, vol. i. pp. 285, 286. Compare
_Whewell's Hist. of the Induc. Sciences_, vol. iii. pp. 224,
225; who, however, does not mention Haüy's classification of
'décroissemens sur les bords,' 'décroissemens sur les angles,'
and 'décroissemens intermédiaires.'

[1136] And, as he clearly saw, the proper method was to study the laws
of symmetry, and then apply them deductively to minerals,
instead of rising inductively from the aberrations actually
presented by minerals. This is interesting to observe, because
it is analogous to the method of the best pathologists, who seek
the philosophy of their subject in physiological phenomena,
rather than in pathological ones; striking downwards from the
normal to the abnormal. '_La symétrie des formes_ sous
lesquelles se présentent les solides que nous avons considérés
jusqu'ici, _nous a fourni des données_ pour exprimer les lois de
décroissemens dont ces solides sont susceptibles.' _Haüy_,
_Traité de Minéralogie_, vol. i. p. 442; compare vol. ii.
p. 192.

[1137] 'Un coup d'[oe]il peu attentif, jeté sur les cristaux, les fit
appeler d'abord de _purs jeux de la nature_, ce qui n'étoit
qu'une manière plus élégante de faire l'aveu de son ignorance.
Un examen réfléchi nous y découvre des lois d'arrangement, à
l'aide desquelles le calcul représente et enchaîne l'un à
l'autre les résultats observés; lois si variables et en même
temps si précises et si régulières; ordinairement très-simples,
sans rien perdre de leur fécondité.' _Haüy_, _Minéralogie_, vol.
i. pp. xiii. xiv. Again, vol. ii. p. 57, 'notre but, qui est de
prouver que les lois d'où dépend la structure du cristal sont
les plus simples possibles dans leur ensemble.'

[1138] On the remarkable power possessed by crystals, in common with
animals, of repairing their own injuries, see _Paget's
Pathology_, 1853, vol. i. pp. 152, 153, confirming the
experiments of Jordan on this curious subject: 'The ability to
repair the damages sustained by injury ... is not an exclusive
property of living beings; for even crystals will repair
themselves when, after pieces have been broken from them, they
are placed in the same conditions in which they were first
formed.'

[1139] 'M. Pinel a imprimé une marche nouvelle à l'étude de la folie....
En la rangeant simplement, et sans différences aucunes, au
nombre des autres dérangemens de nos organes, en lui assignant
une place dans le cadre nosographique, il fit faire un pas
immense à son histoire.' _Georget_, _de la Folie_, Paris, 1820,
p. 69. In the same work, p. 295, 'M. Pinel, le premier en
France, on pourrait dire en Europe, jeta les fondemens d'un
traitement vraiment rationnel en rangeant la folie au nombre des
autres affections organiques.' M. Esquirol, who expresses the
modern and purely scientific view, says in his great work (_Des
Maladies Mentaes_, Paris, 1838, vol. i. p. 336), 'L'aliénation
mentale, que les anciens peuples regardaient comme une
inspiration ou une punition des dieux, qui dans la suite fut
prise pour la possession des démons, qui dans d'autres temps
passa pour une [oe]uvre de la magie; l'aliénation mentale,
dis-je, avec toutes ses espèces et ses variétés innombrables, ne
diffère en rien des autres maladies.' The recognition of this he
expressly ascribes to his predecessor: 'grâce aux principes
exposés par Pinel.' p. 340. Pinel himself clearly saw the
connexion between his own opinions and the spirit of the age:
see _Pinel_, _Traité Médico-Philosophique sur l'Aliénation
Mentale_, p. xxxii.: 'Un ouvrage de médecine, publié en France à
la fin du dix-huitième siècle, doit avoir un autre caractère que
s'il avoit été écrit à une époque antérieure.'

These were the views which, during the latter half of the eighteenth century, began to dawn upon French thinkers. The extraordinary ability and success with which these eminent men cultivated their respective sciences, I have traced at a length greater that I had intended, but still very inadequate to the importance of the subject. Enough, however, has been brought forward, to convince the reader of the truth of the proposition I wished to prove; namely, that the intellect of France was, during the latter half of the eighteenth century, concentrated upon the external world with unprecedented zeal, and thus aided that vast movement, of which the Revolution itself was merely a single consequence. The intimate connexion between scientific progress and social rebellion, is evident from the fact, that both are suggested by the same yearning after improvement, the same dissatisfaction with what has been previously done, the same restless, prying, insubordinate, and audacious spirit. But in France this general analogy was strengthened by the curious circumstances I have already noticed, by virtue of which, the activity of the country was, during the first half of the century, directed against the church rather than against the state; so that in order to complete the antecedents of the Revolution, it was necessary that, in the latter half of the century, the ground of attack should be shifted. This is precisely what was done by the wonderful impetus given to every branch of natural science. For, the attention of men being thus steadily fixed upon the external world, the internal fell into neglect; while, as the external corresponds to the state, and the internal to the church, it was part of the same intellectual development, that the assailers of the existing fabric should turn against political abuses the energy which the preceding generation had reserved for religious ones.

Thus it was that the French Revolution, like every great revolution the world has yet seen, was preceded by a complete change in the habits and associations of the national intellect. But besides this, there was also taking place, precisely at the same time, a vast social movement, which was intimately connected with the intellectual movement, and indeed formed part of it, in so far as it was followed by similar results and produced by similar causes. The nature of this social revolution I shall examine only very briefly, because in a future volume it will be necessary to trace its history minutely, in order to illustrate the slighter but still remarkable changes which in the same period were going on in English society.

In France, before the Revolution, the people, though always very social, were also very exclusive. The upper classes, protected by an imaginary superiority, looked with scorn upon those whose birth or titles were unequal to their own. The class immediately below them copied and communicated their example, and every order in society endeavoured to find some fanciful distinction which should guard them from the contamination of their inferiors. The only three real sources of superiority,--the superiority of morals, of intellect, and of knowledge,--were entirely overlooked in this absurd scheme; and men became accustomed to pride themselves not on any essential difference, but on those inferior matters, which, with extremely few exceptions, are the result of accident, and therefore no test of merit.[1140]

[1140] Comp. _Mém. de Ségur_, vol. i. p. 23, with the Introduction to
_Des Réaux_, _Historiettes_, vol. i. p. 34. A good illustration
of this is, that the Prince de Montbarey, in his Memoirs, gently
censures Louis XV., not for his scandalous profligacy, but
because he selected for his mistresses some women who were not
of high birth. _Mém. de Montbarey_, vol. i. p. 341, and see
vol. iii. p. 117.

The first great blow to this state of things, was the unprecedented impulse given to the cultivation of physical science. Those vast discoveries which were being made, not only stimulated the intellect of thinking men, but even roused the curiosity of the more thoughtless parts of society. The lectures of chemists, of geologists, of mineralogists, and of physiologists, were attended by those who came to wonder, as well as by those who came to learn. In Paris, the scientific assemblages were crowded to overflowing.[1141] The halls and amphitheatres in which the great truths of nature were expounded, were no longer able to hold their audience, and in several instances it was found necessary to enlarge them.[1142] The sittings of the Academy, instead of being confined to a few solitary scholars, were frequented by every one whose rank or influence enabled them to secure a place.[1143] Even women of fashion, forgetting their usual frivolity, hastened to hear discussions on the composition of a mineral, on the discovery of a new salt, on the structure of plants, on the organization of animals, on the properties of the electric fluid.[1144] A sudden craving after knowledge seemed to have smitten every rank. The largest and the most difficult inquiries found favour in the eyes of those whose fathers had hardly heard the names of the sciences to which they belonged. The brilliant imagination of Buffon made geology suddenly popular; the same thing was effected for chemistry by the eloquence of Fourcroy, and for electricity by Nollet; while the admirable expositions of Lalande caused astronomy itself to be generally cultivated. In a word, it is enough to say, that during the thirty years preceding the Revolution, the spread of physical science was so rapid, that in its favour the old classical studies were despised;[1145] it was considered the essential basis of a good education, and some slight acquaintance with it was deemed necessary for every class, except those who were obliged to support themselves by their daily labour.[1146]

[1141] And that too even on such a subject as anatomy. In 1768, Antoine
Petit began his anatomical lectures in the great amphitheatre of
the Jardin du Roi; and the press to hear him was so great, that
not only all the seats were occupied, but the very window-ledges
were crowded. See the animated description in _Biog. Univ._
vol. xxxiii. p. 494.

[1142] Dr. Thomson (_History of Chemistry_, vol. ii. p. 169) says of
Fourcroy's lectures on chemistry, which began in 1784: 'Such
were the crowds, both of men and women, who flocked to hear him,
that it was twice necessary to enlarge the size of the
lecture-room.' This circumstance is also mentioned in _Cuvier_,
_Eloges_, vol. ii. p. 19.

[1143] In 1779, it was remarked that 'les séances publiques de
l'Académie Française sont devenues une espèce de spectacle fort
à la mode:' and as this continued to increase, the throng became
at length so great, that in 1785 it was found necessary to
diminish the number of tickets of admission, and it was even
proposed that ladies should be excluded, in consequence of some
uproarious scenes which had happened. _Grimm et Diderot_,
_Correspond. Lit._ vol. x. p. 341, vol. xiv. pp. 148, 149, 185,
251.

[1144] Goldsmith, who was in Paris in 1755, says with surprise, 'I have
seen as bright a circle of beauty at the chemical lectures of
Rouelle, as gracing the court of Versailles.' _Prior's Life of
Goldsmith_, vol. i. p. 180; _Forster's Life of Goldsmith_, vol.
i. p. 65. In the middle of the century, electricity was very
popular among the Parisian ladies; and the interest felt in it
was revived several years later by Franklin. Compare _Grimm_,
_Correspondance_, vol. vii. p. 122, with _Tucker's Life of
Jefferson_, vol. i. pp. 190, 191. Cuvier (_Eloges_, vol. i. p.
56) tells us that even the anatomical descriptions which
Daubenton wrote for Buffon were to be found 'sur la toilette des
femmes.' This change of taste is also noticed, though in a
jeering spirit, in _Mém. de Genlis_, vol. vi. p. 32. Compare the
account given by Townsend, who visited France in 1786, on his
way to Spain: 'A numerous society of gentlemen and ladies of the
first fashion meet to hear lectures on the sciences, delivered
by men of the highest rank in their profession.... I was much
struck with the fluency and elegance of language with which the
anatomical professor spoke, and not a little so with the deep
attention of his auditors.' _Townsend's Journey through Spain_,
vol. i. p. 41: see also _Smith's Tour on the Continent in 1786_,
vol. i. p. 117.

[1145] In a letter written in 1756, it is said, 'Mais c'est peine perdue
aujourd'hui que de plaisanter les érudits; il n'y en a plus en
France.' _Grimm_, _Correspond._ vol. ii. p. 15. In 1764, 'Il est
honteux et incroyable à quel point l'étude des anciens est
négligée.' vol. iv. p. 97. In 1768, 'Une autre raison qui rendra
les traductions des auteurs anciens de plus en plus rares en
France, c'est que depuis long temps on n'y sait plus le Grec, et
qu'on néglige l'étude du Latin tous les jours davantage.' vol.
vi. p. 140. Sherlock (_New Letters from an English Traveller_,
London, 1781, p. 86) says, 'It is very rare to meet a man in
France that understands Greek.' In 1785, Jefferson writes from
Paris to Madison, 'Greek and Roman authors are dearer here than,
I believe, any where in the world; nobody here reads them,
wherefore they are not reprinted.' _Jefferson's Correspond._
vol. i. p. 301. See further, on this neglect of the ancients, a
significant precursor of the Revolution, _Mém. de Montbarey_,
vol. iii. p. 181; _Villemain_, _Littérature au XVIII^e Siècle_,
vol. iii. pp. 243-248; _Schlosser's Eighteenth Century_, vol. i.
p. 344.

[1146] For further evidence of the popularity of physical knowledge, and
of its study, even by those who might have been expected to
neglect it, see _Mém. de Roland_, vol. i. pp. 115, 268, 324,
343; _Mém. de Morellet_, vol. i. p. 16; _Dupont de Nemours_,
_Mém. sur Turgot_, pp. 45, 52, 53, 411; _Mém. de Brissot_, vol.
i. pp. 62, 151, 319, 336, 338, 357; _Cuvier_, _Progrès des
Sciences_, vol. i. p. 89.

The results produced by this remarkable change are very curious, and from their energy and rapidity were very decisive. As long as the different classes confined themselves to pursuits peculiar to their own sphere, they were encouraged to preserve their separate habits; and the subordination, or, as it were, the hierarchy, of society was easily maintained. But when the members of the various orders met in the same place with the same object, they became knit together by a new sympathy. The highest and most durable of all pleasures, the pleasure caused by the perception of fresh truths, was now a great link, which banded together those social elements that were formerly wrapped up in the pride of their own isolation. Besides this, there was also given to them not only a new pursuit, but also a new standard of merit. In the amphitheatre and the lecture-room, the first object of attention is the professor and the lecturer. The division is between those who teach and those who learn. The subordination of ranks makes way for the subordination of knowledge.[1147] The petty and conventional distinctions of fashionable life are succeeded by those large and genuine distinctions, by which alone man is really separated from man. The progress of the intellect supplies a new object of veneration; the old worship of rank is rudely disturbed, and its superstitious devotees are taught to bow the knee before what to them is the shrine of a strange god. The hall of science is the temple of democracy. Those who come to learn, confess their own ignorance, abrogate in some degree their own superiority, and begin to perceive that the greatness of men has no connexion with the splendour of their titles, or the dignity of their birth; that it is not concerned with their quarterings, their escutcheons, their descents, their dexter-chiefs, their sinister-chiefs, their chevrons, their bends, their azures, their gules, and the other trumperies of their heraldry; but that it depends upon the largeness of their minds, the powers of their intellect, and the fullness of their knowledge.

[1147] A celebrated writer has well said, though in a somewhat different
point of view, 'Il ne peut y avoir dans les sciences morales,
pas plus que dans les sciences physiques, ni maîtres, ni
esclaves, ni rois, ni sujets, ni citoyens, ni étrangers.'
_Comte_, _Traité de Législation_, vol. i. p. 43.

These were the views which, in the latter half of the eighteenth century, began to influence those classes which had long been the undisputed masters of society.[1148] And what shows the strength of this great movement is, that it was accompanied by other social changes, which, though in themselves apparently trifling, become full of meaning when taken in connexion with the general history of the time.

[1148] The remarks which Thomas made upon Descartes in 1765, in an
_éloge_ crowned by the Academy, illustrate the opinions which,
in the latter half of the eighteenth century, were becoming
rapidly diffused in France. See the passage beginning 'O
préjugés! ô ridicule fierté des places et du rang!' &c.
_[OE]uvres de Descartes_, vol. i. p. 74. Certainly no one would
have used such language, on such an occasion, thirty years
earlier. So, too, the Count de Ségur says of the younger nobles
before the Revolution, 'nous préférions un mot d'éloges de
D'Alembert, de Diderot, à la faveur la plus signalée d'un
prince.' _Mém. de Ségur_, vol. i. p. 142: see also vol. ii. p.
46.

While the immense progress of physical knowledge was revolutionizing society, by inspiring the different classes with an object common to all, and thus raising a new standard of merit, a more trivial, but equally democratic tendency was observable even in the conventional forms of social life. To describe the whole of these changes would occupy a space disproportioned to the other parts of this Introduction; but it is certain that, until the changes have been carefully examined, it will be impossible for any one to write a history of the French Revolution. As a specimen of what I mean, I will notice two of these innovations which are very conspicuous, and are also interesting on account of their analogy with what has happened in English society.

The first of these changes was an alteration in dress, and a marked contempt for those external appearances hitherto valued as one of the most important of all matters. During the reign of Louis XIV., and indeed during the first half of the reign of Louis XV., not only men of frivolous tastes, but even those distinguished for their knowledge, displayed in their attire a dainty precision, a nice and studied adjustment, a pomp of gold, of silver, and of ruffles, such as in our days can nowhere be seen, except in the courts of European princes, where a certain barbarian splendour is still retained. So far was this carried, that in the seventeenth century the rank of a person might be immediately known by his appearance; no one presuming to usurp a garb worn by the class immediately above his own.[1149] But in that democratic movement which preceded the French Revolution, the minds of men became too earnest, too intent upon higher matters, to busy themselves with those idle devices which engrossed the attention of their fathers. A contemptuous disregard of such distinctions became general. In Paris the innovation was seen even in those gay assemblies, where a certain amount of personal decoration is still considered natural. At dinners, suppers, and balls, it is noticed by contemporary observers, that the dress usually worn was becoming so simple as to cause a confusion of ranks, until at length every distinction was abandoned by both sexes; the men, on such occasions, coming in a common frock-coat, the women in their ordinary morning gowns.[1150] Nay, to such a pitch was this carried, that we are assured by the Prince de Montbarey, who was in Paris at the time, that shortly before the Revolution, even those who had stars and orders were careful to hide them by buttoning their coats, so that these marks of superiority might no longer be seen.[1151]

[1149] Among many other illustrations which might be given of this
distinction of classes by dress, see _Monteil_, _Hist. des
divers Etats_, vol. vii. pp. 7-10; and _Tallemant des Réaux_,
_Historiettes_, vol. i. p. 36 note.