Chapter I: Nature’s Insurgent Son (2)

The applications of steam and electricity have so far astonished and gratified the rebel Man, that he is sometimes disposed to conclude that he has come to the end of his power of relieving himself from the use of his own muscles for anything but refined movements and well-considered health-giving exercises. One of the greatest of chemical discoverers at this time living, M. Berthelot, has, however, recently pressed on our attention the question of the possibility of tapping the central heat of the earth and making use of it as a perennial source of energy. Many competent physicists have expressed the opinion that the mechanical difficulties of such a boring, as would be necessary, are insuperable. No one, however, would venture to prophesy, in such a matter as this, that what is prevented by insuperable obstacles to-day may not be within our powers in the course of a few years.

17. SPECULATIONS AS TO THE MARTIANS.

Such audacious control of the resources of our planet is suggested as a possibility, a legitimate hope and aim, by recent observations and speculations as to our neighbour, the planet Mars. I do not venture to express any opinion as to the interpretation of the appearances revealed by the telescope on the surface of the planet Mars, and indeed would take the most sceptical attitude until further information is obtained. But the influence of these statements about Mars on the imagination and hopes of Man seems to me to possess considerable interest. The markings on the surface of the planet Mars, which have been interpreted as a system of canals, have been known and discussed for many years (see Figs. 7 and 8). It has recently been observed that these canals undergo a recurrent seasonal change of appearance consistent with the hypothesis that they are periodically filled with water, which is derived from the polar snow-caps of the planet at the season of greatest polar heat. It is suggested that Mars is inhabited by an intelligent population, not necessarily closely similar to mankind, but, on the contrary unlike mankind in proportion as the conditions of Mars are unlike those of the Earth, and that these inhabitants have constructed by their own efforts the enormous irrigation works upon which the fertility and habitability of their planet, at the present time, depend. These speculations lead M. Faguet of the French Academy to further reflections. The Martians who have carried out this vast manipulation of a planet must be not only far in advance of the inhabitants of the Earth in intelligence and mechanical power, as a result of the greater age of their planet and the longer continuance there of the evolution of an intelligent race, but such a vast work and its maintenance would seem to imply a complete unanimity among the Martians, a world-wide peace and common government. Since we can imagine such a result of the prolonged play of forces in Mars, similar to those at work in our own Earth, and even obtain some slight confirmation of the supposition, may we not indulge in the surmise that some such future is in store for Man, that he may be able hereafter to deal with great planetary factors to his own advantage, and not only draw heat from the bowels of the earth for such purposes as are at present within his scope, but even so as to regulate, at some distant day, the climates of the earth’s surface, and the winds and the rain which seem now for ever beyond his control?

Drawing of Mars in November with Long. 156° on the meridian,
shewing the ‘Mare Sirenum’ (the shaded sickle-shaped area),
connected with a network of ‘canals’ shewing ‘spots’ or ‘oases’
at the intersections of the canals and a system of spherical
triangles as the form of the mesh-work.--_From_ ‘Mars,’ by
Perceval Lowell.]

Drawing of Mars as seen on November 18th, 1894 (Long. 325° on the
meridian) by Mr. Perceval Lowell at the Flagstaff Observatory,
Arizona, U.S.A., shewing ‘twin’ or ‘double’ canals, connected
northwards with the ‘Mare Icarium.’ The two figures here
reproduced only give a small portion of the system of canals,
oases and seas of the planet Mars, mapped by Mr. Lowell.]

18. THE INVESTIGATION OF THE HUMAN MIND.

In such a desultory survey as that on which I have ventured, of Man’s kingdom and its dangers, it occurs to me to mention another area upon which it seems urgent that the activities of nature-searchers should be immediately turned with increased power and number. The experimental study of his body and of that of animals has been carried far and with valuable results by inquiring Man. But a singularly small amount of attention has as yet been given to the investigation of Man’s mind as a natural phenomenon and one which can be better understood to the immense advantage of the race.

The mind of Man--it matters not for my immediate argument whether it be regarded as having arisen normally or abnormally from the mind of animals--is obviously the one and all-powerful instrument with which he has contended, and is destined hereafter to contend, against extra-human Nature. It is no less important for him to know the quality, the capacity, the mode of operation of this instrument, its beginnings and its limitations, than it is for him to know the minutest details of the workings of Nature. Just as much in the one case as in the other, it is impossible for him to trust to the imperfect analysis made by ancient races of men and the traditions and fancies handed down in old writings--produced by generations who had not arrived at the method of investigation which we now can apply. Experiment upon the mental processes of animals and of Man is greatly needed. Only here and there has anything been done in this direction. Most promising results have been obtained by such observations as those on hypnotism and on various diseased and abnormal states of the brain. But the subject is so little explored that wild and untested assertions as to the powers of the mind are current and have given rise to strange beliefs, accepted by many seriously-intentioned men and women. We boldly operate upon the minds of children in our systems of education without really knowing what we are doing. We blindly assume that the owners of certain minds, traditionally trained in amusing elegancies, are fit to govern their fellow-men and administer vast provinces; we assume that the discovery and comprehension of Nature’s processes must be the work of very few and peculiar minds; that if we take care of the body the mind will take care of itself. We know really nothing of the heredity of mental qualities, nor how to estimate their presence or absence in the young so as to develop the mind to greatest advantage. We know the pain and the penalty of muscular fatigue, but we play with the brains of young and old as though they were indestructible machinery. What is called experimental psychology is only in its infancy, but it is of urgent necessity that it should be systematically pursued by the application of public funds in order that Man may know how to make the best use of his only weapon in his struggle to control Nature.

19. MAN’S DELAY: ITS CAUSE AND REMEDY.

Even the slight and rapid review just given of Man’s position, face to face with Nature, enables us to see what a tremendous step he has taken, what desperate conditions he has created by the wonderful exercise of his will; how much he has done and can do to control the order of Nature, and how urgent it is, beyond all that words can say, for him to apply his whole strength and capacity to gaining further control, so that he may accomplish his destiny and escape from misery.

It is obvious enough that Man is, at present, doing very little in this direction; so little that one seeks for an explanation of his apathy, his seeming paralysis.

The explanation is that the masses of the people, in civilized as well as uncivilized countries, are not yet aware of the situation. When knowledge on this matter reaches, as it inevitably will in time, to the general population, it is certain that the democracy will demand that those who expend the resources of the community, and as government officials undertake the organization of the national defence and other great public services for the common good, shall put into practice the power of Nature-control which has been gained by mankind, and shall exert every sinew to obtain more. To effect this, the democracy will demand that those who carry on public affairs shall not be persons solely acquainted with the elegant fancies and stories of past ages, but shall be trained in the acquisition of natural knowledge and keenly active in the skilful application of Nature-control to the development of the well-being of the community.

It would not be necessary to wait for this pressure from below were the well-to-do class--which in most modern States exercises so large an influence both in the actual administration of Governments and by example--so situated as to be in any way aware of the responsibilities which rest upon it. Traditional education has, owing to causes which are not far to seek, deprived the well-to-do class of a knowledge of, and interest in, Man’s relation to Nature, and of his power to control natural processes. During the whole period of the growth of man’s knowledge of Nature--that is to say, ever since the days of Bruno--the education of the well-to-do has been directed to the acquirement of entertaining information and elegant accomplishments, whilst ‘useful knowledge’ has been despised and obtained, when considered necessary, from lower-class ‘workmen’ at workmen’s wages. It is of course not to be overlooked that there have been notable exceptions to this, but they have been exceptions. Even at the present day, in some civilized States, a body of clerks, without any pretence to an education in the knowledge of Nature, headed by gentlemen of title, equally ignorant, are entrusted with, and handsomely paid and rewarded for, the superintendence of the armies, the navies, the agriculture, the public works, the fisheries, and even the public education of the State. When compelled to seek the assistance of those who have been trained in the knowledge of Nature (for even in these States there are a few such eccentric persons to be found), the officials demand that such assistance shall be freely given to them without pay, or else offer to buy the knowledge required at the rate paid to a copying clerk.

This state of things is not one for which it is possible to blame those who, in blissful ignorance, contentedly perform what they consider to be their duty to their country. There are, however, in many States, institutions, of vast influence in the education of the whole community, known as Universities. In many countries they as well as the schools are directly controlled by the State. In England, however, we are happy in having free Universities, the older of which, though in some important respects tied down by law, yet have the power to determine almost absolutely, not only what shall be studied within their own walls, but what shall be studied in all the schools of the country frequented by the children of the well-to-do.

It is the pride of our ancient Universities that they are largely, if not exclusively, frequented by young men of the class who are going to take an active part in the public affairs of the country--either as politicians and statesmen, as governors of remote colonies, or as leaders of the great professions of the Church, the Law, and Medicine. It would seem, then, that if these Universities attached a greater, even a predominant, importance to the studies which lead to the knowledge and control of Nature, the schools would follow their example, and that the governing class of the country would become acquainted with the urgent need for more knowledge of the kind, and for the immediate application in public affairs of that knowledge which exists.

It would seem that in Great Britain, at any rate, it would not be necessary, were the Universities alive to the situation, to await the pressure of democracy, but that a better and more rapid mode of development would obtain; the influential and trusted leaders of the community would set the example in seeking and using for the good of the State the new knowledge of Nature. The world has seen with admiration and astonishment the entire people of Japan follow the example of its governing class in the almost sudden adoption of the knowledge and control of Nature as the purpose of national education and the guide of State administration. It is possible that in a less rapid and startling manner our old Universities may, at no distant date, influence the intellectual life of the more fortunate of our fellow citizens, and consequently of the entire community. The weariness which is so largely expressed at the present day in regard to human effort--whether it be in the field of politics, of literature, or of other art, or in relation to the improvement of social organization and the individual life--is possibly due to the fact that we have exhausted the old sources of inspiration, and have not yet learnt to believe in the new. The ‘return to Nature,’ which is sometimes vaguely put forward as a cure for the all-pervading ‘taedium’ of this age, is perhaps an imperfect expression of the truth that it is time for civilized man not to return to the ‘state of Nature,’ but to abandon his retrospective attitude and to take up whole-heartedly the Kingdom of Nature which it is his destiny to rule. New hope, new life will, when he does this, be infused into every line of human activity: Art will acquire a new impulse, and politics become real and interesting. To a community which believes in the destiny of Man as the controller of Nature, and has consciously entered upon its fulfilment, there can be none of the weariness and even despair which comes from an exclusive worship of the past. There can only be encouragement in every victory gained, hope and the realization of hope. Even in the face of the overwhelming opposition and incredulity which now unhappily have the upper hand, the believer in the predestined triumph of Man over Nature can exert himself to place a contribution, however small, in the great edifice of Nature-knowledge, happy in the conviction that his life has been worth living, has counted to the good in the imperishable result.

20. THE INFLUENCE OF OXFORD.

If I venture now to consider more specifically the influence exercised by the University of Oxford upon the welfare of the State and of the human community in general, in view of the conclusions which have been set forth in what has preceded, I beg to say that I do so with the greatest respect to the opinions of others who differ from me. When I say this I am not using an empty formula. I mean that I believe that there must be many University men who are fair-minded and disinterested, and have given special attention to the matter of which I wish to speak, and who are yet very far from agreeing with me. I ask them to consider what I have said, and what I have further to say, in the same spirit as that in which I approach them.

It seems to me--and when I speak of myself I would point out that I am presenting the opinions of a large number of educated men, and that it will be better for me to avoid an egotistical attitude--it seems to us (I prefer to say) that the University of Oxford by its present action in regard to the choice and direction of subjects of study is exercising an injurious influence upon the education of the country, and especially upon the education of those who will hereafter occupy positions of influence, and will largely determine both the action of the State and the education and opinions of those who will in turn succeed them. The question has been recently raised as to whether the acquirement of a certain elementary knowledge of the Greek language should be required of all those who desire to pursue their studies in this University, and accordingly whether the teaching of the elements of this language should form a prominent feature in the great schools of this country. It seems to us that this is only part of a much larger question; namely, whether it is desirable to continue to make the study of two dead languages--and of the story of the deeds of great men in the past--the main if not the exclusive matter to which the minds of the youth of the well-to-do class are directed by our schools and universities. We have come to the conclusion that this form of education is a mistaken and injurious one. We desire to make the chief subject of education both in school and in college a knowledge of Nature as set forth in the sciences which are spoken of as physics, chemistry, geology, and biology. We think that all education[12] should consist in the first place of this kind of knowledge, on account of its commanding importance both to the individual and to the community. We think that every man of even a moderate amount of education should have acquired a sufficient knowledge of these subjects to enable him at any rate to appreciate their value, and to take an interest in their progress and application to human life. And we think further that the ablest youths of the country should be encouraged to proceed to the extreme limit of present knowledge in one or other branch of this knowledge of Nature so as to become makers of new knowledge, and the possible discoverers of enduring improvements in man’s control of Nature. No one should be educated so as to be ignorant of the importance of these things; and it should not be possible for the greatest talent and mental power to be diverted to other fields of activity through the fact that the necessary education and opportunity in the pursuit of the knowledge of Nature are withheld. The strongest inducements in the way of reward and consideration ought, we believe, to be placed before a young man in the direction of Nature-knowledge rather than in the direction of other and far less important subjects of study.

In fact, we should wish to see the classical and historical scheme of education entirely abandoned, and its place taken by a scheme of education in the knowledge of Nature.

At the same time let me hasten to say that few, if any of us--and certainly not he who writes these lines--would wish to remove the acquirement of the use of languages, the training in the knowledge and perception of beauty in literary art, and the feeding of the mind with the great stories of the past, from a high and necessary position in every grade of education.

It is a sad and apparently inevitable accompaniment of all discussion of this matter that those who advocate a great and leading position for the knowledge of Nature in education are accused of desiring to abolish all study of literature, history, and philosophy. This is, in reality, so far from being the case that we should most of us wish to see a serviceable knowledge of foreign languages, and a real acquaintance with the beauties of English and other literature, substituted for the present unsuccessful efforts to teach effectively either the language or literature of the Greeks and Romans.

It should not be for one moment supposed that those who attach the vast importance which we do to the knowledge of Nature imagine that Man’s spirit can be satisfied by exclusive occupation with that knowledge. We know, as well as any, that Man does not live by bread alone. Though the study of Nature is fitted to develop great mental qualities--perseverance, honesty, judgement, and initiative--we do not suppose that it completes Man’s mental equipment. Though the knowledge of Nature calls upon, excites, and gratifies the imagination to a degree and in a way which is peculiar to itself, we do not suppose that it furnishes the opportunity for all forms of mental activity. The great joys of Art, the delights and entertainment to be derived from the romance and history of human character, are not parts of it. They must never be neglected. But are we not justified in asserting that, for some two hundred years or more, these ‘entertainments’ have been pursued in the name of the highest education and study to the exclusion of the far weightier and more necessary knowledge of Nature? ‘This should ye have done, and yet not left the other undone,’ may justly be said to those who have conducted the education of our higher schools and universities along the pleasant lines of literature and history, to the neglect of the urgently-needed ‘improvement of Natural Knowledge.’ Nero was probably a musician of taste and training, and it was artistic and high-class music which he played while Rome was burning: so too the studies of the past carried on at Oxford have been charming and full of beauty, whilst England has lain, and lies, in mortal peril for lack of knowledge of Nature.

It seems to be beyond dispute that the study, firstly of Latin, and much more recently of Greek, were followed in our Universities and in grammar schools, not as educational exercises in the use of language, but as keys to unlock the store-rooms--the books--in which the knowledge of the ancients was contained. So long as these keys were needed, it was reasonable enough that every well-educated man should spend such time as was necessary in providing himself with the key. But now that the store-rooms are empty--now that their contents have been appropriated and scattered far and wide--in all languages of civilization, it seems to be merely an unreasoning continuation of superannuated custom to go on with the provision of these keys. Such, however, is the force of habit that it continues: new and ingenious reasons for the practice are put forward, whilst its original object is entirely forgotten.

In the first place, it has come to be regarded as a mark of good breeding, and thus an end in itself, for a man to have some first-hand acquaintance with Latin and Greek authors, even when he knows no other literature. It is a fashion, like the wearing of a court dress. This cannot be held to justify the employment of most of the time and energy of youth in its acquirement.

A second reason which is now put forward for the practice is that the effort and labour expended on the provision of these keys--even though it is admitted that they are useless--are a wonderful and incomparably fine exercise of the mind, fitting it for all sorts of work. A theory of education has been enunciated which fits in with this defence of the continued attempt to compel young men to acquire a knowledge, however imperfect, of the Latin and Greek languages. It is held that what is called ‘training the mind’ is the chief, if not the only proper, aim of education; and it is declared that the continuation of the study of those once useful, but now useless, keys--Latin and Greek--is an all-sufficient training. If this theory were in accordance with the facts, the conclusion in favour of giving a very high place to the study so recommended would be inevitable. But the facts do not support this theory. Clever youths are taken and pressed into the study of Greek and Latin, and we are asked to conclude that their cleverness is due to these studies. On the other hand, we maintain that though the study of grammar may be, when properly carried out, a valuable exercise, yet that it is easily converted into a worthless one, and can never in any case take the place of various other forms of mental training, such as the observation of natural objects, the following out of experimental demonstration of the qualities and relations of natural bodies, and the devising and execution of experiment as the test of hypothesis. Apart from ‘training’ there is the need for providing the mind with information as well as method. The knowledge of Nature is eagerly assimilated by young people, and no training in mental gymnastics can be a substitute for it or an excuse for depriving the young of what is of inestimable value and instinctively desired.

The prominence which is assigned to a familiarity with the details of history, more especially of what may be called biographical history, in the educational system favoured by Oxford, seems to depend on the same causes as those which have led to the maintenance of the study of Greek and Latin. To read history is a pleasant occupation which has become a habit and tradition. At one time men believed that history repeats itself, and it was thought to be a proper and useful training for one who would take part in public affairs to store his mind with precedents and picturesque narratives of prominent statesmen and rulers in far-off days and distant lands. As a matter of fact it cannot be shown that any statesman, or even the humblest politician, has ever been guided to useful action by such knowledge. History does not repeat itself, and the man who thinks that it does will be led by his fragmentary knowledge of stories of the past into serious blunders. To the fashionable journalist such biographical history furnishes the seasoning for his essays on political questions of the day. But this does not seem to be a sufficient reason for assigning so prominent a place in University studies to this kind of history as is at present the case. The reason, perhaps, of the favour which it receives, is that it is one of the few subjects which a man of purely classical education can pursue without commencing his education in elementary matters afresh.

It would be a serious mistake[13] to suppose that those who would give a complete supremacy to the study of Nature, in our educational system, do not value and enjoy biographical history for what it is worth as an entertainment; or further, that they do not set great value upon the scientific study of the history of the struggles of the races and nations of mankind, as a portion of the knowledge of the evolution of Man, capable of giving conclusions of great value when it has been further and more thoroughly treated as a department of Anthropology. What seems to us undesirable is, that mere stories and bald records of certain peoples should be put forward as matter with which the minds of children and young men are to be occupied, to the exclusion of the all-important matters comprised in the knowledge of Nature.

There are, it is well known, not a few who regard the present institution of Latin and Greek and so-called History, in the pre-eminent place which they occupy in Oxford and the great schools of the country, as something of so ancient and fundamental a character that to question the wisdom of that institution seems an odious proceeding, partaking of the nature of blasphemy. This state of mind takes its origin in a common error, due to the fact that a straightforward account of the studies pursued in the University during the last five hundred years has never been written. Our present curriculum is a mere mushroom growth of the last century, and has no claim whatever to veneration. Greek was studied by but a dozen or two specialists in Oxford two hundred and fifty years ago. In those days, in proportion to what had been ascertained in that subject and could be taught, there was a great and general interest in the University in the knowledge of Nature, such as we should gladly see revived at the present day. As a matter of fact, it is only within the last hundred years that the dogma of compulsory Greek, and the value of what is now called a classical education, has been promulgated. These things are not historically of ancient date; they are not essentials of Oxford. We are therefore well within our right in questioning the wisdom of their continuance in so favoured a position, and we are warranted in expressing the hope that those who can change the policy of the University and Colleges in this matter will, at no distant day, do so.

It is sometimes urged that Oxford should contentedly resign herself to the overwhelming predominance given to the study of ancient elegance and historic wisdom within her walls. It is said that she may well be reserved for these delightful pursuits, whilst newer institutions should do the hard work of aiding man in his conquest of Nature. At first sight such a proposal has a tempting character: we are charmed with the suggestion that our beautiful Oxford should be enclosed by a ring fence and cut off for ever from the contamination of the world. But a few moments’ reflection must convince most of us that such a treatment of Oxford is an insult to her and an impossibility. Oxford is not dead. Only a few decades have passed--a mere fraction of her lifetime--since she was free from the oppression of grammar-school studies, and sent forth Robert Boyle and Christopher Wren to establish the New Philosophy of the Invisible College in London. She seems, to some of us, to have been used not quite wisely, perhaps not quite fairly, in the brief period which has elapsed since that time. Why should she not shake herself free again, and give, hereafter, most, if not the whole, of her wealth and strength to the urgent work which is actually pursued in every other University of the world as a chief aim and duty?

The fact that Oxford attracts the youth of the country to her, and so determines the education offered in the great schools, is a sufficient answer to those who wish to perpetuate the present employment of her resources in the subvention and encouragement of comparatively unimportant, though fascinating (even too fascinating), studies, to the neglect of the pressing necessary knowledge of Nature. Those who enjoy great influence in the affairs of the University tell us with pride that Oxford not only determines what our best schools shall teach, but has, as a main pre-occupation, the education of statesmen, pro-consuls, leaders of the learned professions, and members of parliament! Undoubtedly this claim is well-founded, and its truth is the reason why we cannot be content with the maintenance by the University of the compulsory study of Greek and Latin, and the neglect to make the study of Nature an integral and predominant part of every man’s education.

To return to my original contention--the knowledge and control of Nature is Man’s destiny and his greatest need. To enable future leaders of the community to comprehend this, to perceive what the knowledge and control of Nature are, and what are the steps by which they are gained and increased, is the duty of a great University. To neglect this is to retard the approach of well-being and happiness, and to injure humanity.

I beg, finally, for toleration from those who do not share my opinions. I am well aware that they are open to the objection that they partake more of the nature of dreams of the future than of practical proposals.[14] That, perhaps, may be accepted as my excuse for indulging in them. There are, and always have been, dreamers in Oxford, and beautiful dreams they have dreamed--some of the past, and some of the future. The most fascinating dreams are not, unfortunately, always realized; but it is sometimes worth while to tell one’s dream, for that may bring it a step nearer to ‘coming true.’