prove to be the case, the inquiry would presently be found associating itself with those other inquiries by which Rutherfurd, Secchi, Draper, Huggins, and others have been led to recognise the existence of progressive stages in the development of suns themselves. If, for instance, the stars can be arranged in a series whose first term is represented by the blue-white stars, of which Sirius and Vega are the type; the second by yellowish stars, of which Capella and our Own sun are typical; the third by orange stars, like Arcturus; and the fourth by red stars; and if of these the bluish-white are the youngest (in development, of course; we speak not of absolute age), and the others more and more advanced, we may well believe that the careful study of objects like the Orion nebula, with the new means now available, may bring us to the knowledge of yet earlier terms in the series, indicating the various steps by which gaseous matter aggregates into embryonic suns, these into bantling orbs, which develope (as time-periods, measureless by man, pass onwards), into suns like Sirius and Vega in growth, and thence to the condition which our own sun has attained.

In conclusion, I would note how abundantly the diverse views, about which I spoke at starting, and the inquiries to which those rival views led, have justified Herbert Spencer's teaching that no answer was ever yet given by science which did not lead to new and closer questioning. On one side and on the other the controversy swayed as fresh evidence on either side was obtained; but science was not content at any stage of the inquiry to 'rest and be thankful.' Now, when so much new knowledge has been obtained, and when so many doubtful points have been disposed of, we are further than ever from actually understanding the mystery of the great gaseous nebulæ. But if we find more than ever about which we are in doubt, we see more than ever how much fresh knowledge may be hoped for as we push forward new inquiries.

357

HERBERT SPENCER'S PHILOSOPHY.

THERE are many who find a difficulty in understanding how the philosophy of Mr. Herbert Spencer is related to the Darwinian theories of biological evolution. Many, indeed, seem to find difficulty in recognising at all the nature of the teachings of Mr. Spencer, and especially in determining the position which they hold in modern thought. Some appear to imagine that his views are entirely sociological, others suppose that they involve simply an extension of the Darwinian doctrine to the universe at large, while yet others (as I have repeatedly noticed in converse with those whom I have met during my lecturing tours in this country, America, and Australasia) appear to regard Mr. Spencer as chief among the opponents of religion.

It should hardly be necessary to say that all these views are erroneous; yet knowing as I do, how few there are who have formed any just conception of Mr. Spencer's philosophy, especially in this country (for he is much better understood and appreciated on the other side of the Atlantic), I have seen, somewhat gladly, that certain unfair treatment in 'Reminiscences chiefly of Oriel College,' by the Rev. Thomas Mozley, has led to the publication by Mr. Spencer of a succinct statement of the cardinal principles involved in the successive works which Mr. Spencer has published, The statement is a mere summary, technically, and in some places, rather obscurely worded; but it is of great value, as showing not only what Mr. Spencer has actually taught, but what it has been his special purpose to teach. I propose

now to translate the successive items of this statement into more familiar language (in each case giving Mr. Spencer's actual words in the first instance). As, however, the significance of a statement of this kind must always in part depend on the circumstances which elicited it, I deem it well briefly to sketch the matter at issue between Mr. Spencer and the Rev. Mr. Mozley. I do this the more willingly, that, as the former remarks, serious injustice is apt to be done by the publication of reminiscences which concern others than the writer of them; and widely diffused as is Mr. Mozley's interesting work, his statement will be read and accepted by thousands who will never see "Mr. Spencer's Rectification.” ' It appears to me that good service will be done to the cause of justice by helping to spread this rectification as widely as possible.

The passage which has called forth Mr. Spencer's rectification runs as follows: 'I have indulged,' says Mr. Mozley, 'from my boyhood in a Darwinian dream of moral philosophy, derived in the first instance from one of my early instructors. This was Mr. George Spencer, (honorary) secretary of the Derby Philosophical Association, founded by Dr. Darwin,1 and father of Mr. Herbert Spencer. My dream had a certain family resemblance to the "system of philosophy" bearing that writer's name. There was an important and saving difference between the two systems, between that which never saw the light, and perished before it was born, without even coming to wither like grass on the housetops, and that other imposing system which occupies several yards of shelf in most public libraries. The latter makes the world of life, as we see and take part in it, the present outcome of a continual outcoming from atoms, lichens, and vegetables, bound by the necessities of existence to mutual relations,

It was 'more than a dozen years,' Mr. Spencer remarks, after Dr. Darwin's death in 1802, when my father became honorary secretary. I believe my father (who was twelve years old when Dr. Darwin died) never saw him, and so far as I know, knew nothing of his ideas.'

up to or down to brutes, savages, ladies, and gentlemen, inheriting various opinions, maxims, and superstitions. The brother and elder philosophy, for such it was, that is mine, saved itself from birth by its palpable inconsistency, for it retained a Divine original, and some other incongruous elements. In particular, instead of rating the patriarchal stage hardly above the brute, it assigned to that state of society a heavenly source, and described it as rather a model for English country gentlemen, that is, upon the whole, and with certain reservations.'

It will be tolerably obvious that in this passage there is something more than Mr. Spencer-proceeding in his calm way by inquiring rather what others found in it than what he found himself-notes as its purport. It leaves the impression, he says, that the doctrines set forth in the system of Synthetic Philosophy, as well as those which Mr. Mozley entertained in his early days, were in some way derived from the elder Spencer. True, but it leaves also the impression that although the 'brother and elder philosophy had been thus derived,' it owed to Mr. Mozley whatever development it received; he speaks of it plainly as the 'philosophy that is mine.' It conveys very clearly (and also very cleverly) the idea that in Mr. Mozley's opinion the elder philosophy was altogether the nobler and better of the twain, however obvious it may be to sounder judgments that that opinion is altogether erroneous. And then, by saying that even this elder and better philosophy was so palpably unsound that its failure before birth saved it from its due fate, it leaves us clearly to understand what a great misfortune, in Mr. Mozley's eyes, has been the birth, growth, and development of the younger and inferior brother. That these palpable sneers (not to say these gross insults) escaped an attention so keen as Mr. Spencer's I do not suppose. It is evident, however, that he very justly regarded them as unworthy of notice—they are, in fact, of the class of innuendoes which may properly be described as womanish (observe, I do not say womanlike). Mr. Spencer directs his whole attention

to meet Mr. Mozley's implication that during the last fiveand-twenty years he has been allowing himself to be credited with ideas which are not his own. 'Since this is entirely untrue,' he says, 'I cannot be expected to let it pass unnoticed; if I do I tacitly countenance an error, and tacitly admit an act by no means creditable to me.'

He then tells us, in admirably selected terms, just how far he believes himself to be indebted to his father. His indebtedness was general, he says, not special—and indebtedness for habits of thought encouraged rather than for ideas communicated. 'I distinctly trace to him an ingrained tendency to inquire for causes-causes, I mean, of the physical class.' And here let me note in passing, is the great lesson which modern science is ever inculcating. It is here that science influences mental and moral culture most palpably. There is no more valuable safeguard against superstitions of all orders, from those which affect the whole conduct of life, the whole character, down to the paltry superstitions which relate to such matters as helping to salt, walking under ladders, and so forth, than the inquiry always for causes. Breaking a mirror means seven years of sorrow, says the ignorant believer in foolish fancies of the sort: 'In what way? through what relation of cause and effect?' comes the question of common sense, and the notion is at once seen to be an absurdity. If I commit such and such offences, says the believer in a higher form of superstition, I shall be punished; science asks how and why, and in the answer finds the real reason for the moral law. Science finds that offences against right and justice bring always their punishment with them, and shows cause why; establishing thus a sounder and nobler morality than any founded on the merely superstitious fear that some unexplained punishment will fall on us for wrong-doing.

The elder Spencer, says his son, was 'far from having himself abandoned supernaturalism, yet the bias towards naturalism was strong in him, and was, I doubt not, communicated (though rather by example than by precept) to