Part 10

The matter and manner of the whole essay are now fairly before us, and I think that, with the approbation of the reader, its procedure, generally, may be described as an attempt to establish, not by any complete and systematic induction, but by a variety of partial and illustrative assertions, two propositions. Of these propositions the first is, That all animal and vegetable organisms are essentially alike in power, in form, and in substance; and the second, That all vital and intellectual functions are the properties of the molecular disposition and changes of the material basis (protoplasm) of which the various animals and vegetables consist. In both propositions, the agent of proof is this same alleged material basis of life, or protoplasm. For the first of them, all animal and vegetable organisms shall be identified in protoplasm; and for the second, a simple chemical analogy shall assign intellect and vitality to the molecular constituents of the protoplasm, in connection with which they are at least exhibited.

In order, then, to obtain a footing on the ground offered us, the first question we naturally put is, What is Protoplasm? And an answer to this question can be obtained only by a reference to the historical progress of the physiological cell theory.

That theory may be said to have wholly grown up since John Hunter wrote his celebrated work ‘On the Nature of the Blood,’ etc. New growths, to Hunter, depended on an exudation of the plasma of the blood, in which, by virtue of its own plasticity, vessels formed, and conditioned the further progress. The influence of these ideas seems to have still acted, even after a conception of the cell was arrived at. For starting element, Schleiden required an intracellular plasma, and Schwann a structureless exudation, in which minute granules, if not indeed already pre-existent, formed, and by aggregation grew into nuclei, round which singly the production of a membrane at length enclosed a cell. It was then that, in this connection, we heard of the terms blastema and cyto-blastema. The theory of the vegetable cell was completed earlier than that of the animal one. Completion of this latter, again, seems to have been first effected by Schwann, after Müller had insisted on the analogy between animal and vegetable tissue, and Valentin had demonstrated a nucleus in the animal cell, as previously Brown in the vegetable one. But assuming Schwann’s labor, and what surrounded it, to have been a first stage, the wonderful ability of Virchow may be said to have raised the theory of the cell fully to a second stage. Now, of this second stage, it is the dissolution or resolution that has led to the emergence of the word Protoplasm.

The body, to Virchow, constituted a free state of individual subjects, with equal rights but unequal capacities. These were the cells, which consisted each of an enclosing membrane, and an enclosed nucleus with surrounding intracellular matrix or matter. These cells, further, propagated themselves, chiefly by partition or division; and the fundamental principle of the whole theory was expressed in the dictum, “Omnis cellula e cellulâ.” That is, the nucleus, becoming gradually elongated, at last parted in the midst; and each half, acting as center of attraction to the surrounding intracellular matrix or contained matter, stood forth as a new nucleus to a new cell, formed by division at length of the original cell.

The first step taken in resolution of this theory was completed by Max Schultze, preceded by Leydig. This was the elimination of an investing membrane. Such membrane may, and does, ultimately form; but in the first instance, it appears, the cell is naked. The second step in the resolution belongs perhaps to Brücke, though preceded by Bergmann, and though Max Schultze, Kühne, Haeckel, and others ought to be mentioned in the same connection. This step was the elimination, or at least subordination, of the nucleus. The nucleus, we are to understand now, is necessary neither to the division nor to the existence of the cell.

Thus, then, stripped of its membrane, relieved of its nucleus, what now remains for the cell? Why, nothing but what was the contained matter, the intracellular matrix, and is—Protoplasm.

In the application of this word itself, however, to the element in question, there are also a step or two to be noticed. The first step was Dujardin’s discovery of sarcode; and the second the introduction of the term protoplasm as the name for the layer of the vegetable cell that lined the cellulose, and enclosed the nucleus. Sarcode, found in certain of the lower forms of life, was a simple substance that exhibited powers of spontaneous contraction and movement. Thus, processes of such simple, soft, contractile matter are protruded by the rhizopods, and locomotion by their means effected. Remak first extended the use of the term protoplasm from the layer which bore that name in the vegetable cell to the analogous element in the animal cell; but it was Max Schultze, in particular, who, by applying the name to the intracellular matrix, or contained matter, when divested of membrane, and by identifying this substance itself with sarcode, first fairly established protoplasm, name and thing, in its present prominence.

In this account I have necessarily omitted many subordinate and intervening steps in the successive establishment of the contractility, superior importance, and complete isolation of this thing to which, under the name of protoplasm, Mr. Huxley of late has called such vast attention. Besides the names mentioned, there are others of great eminence in this connection, such as Meyen, Siebold, Reichert, Ecker, Henle, and Kölliker among the Germans; and among ourselves, Beale and Huxley himself. John Goodsir will be mentioned again.

We have now, perhaps, obtained a general idea of protoplasm. Brücke, when he talks of it as “living cell-body or elementary organism,” comes very near the leading idea of Mr. Huxley as expressed in his phrase, “the physiological basis, or matter, of life.” Living cell-body, elementary organism, primitive living matter—that, evidently, is the quest of Mr. Huxley. There is aqueous matter, he would say, perhaps, composed of hydrogen and oxygen, and it is the same thing whether in the rain-drop or the ocean; so, similarly, there is vital matter, which, composed of carbon, hydrogen, oxygen, and nitrogen, is the same thing whether in cryptogams or in elephants, in animalcules or in men. What, in fact, Mr. Huxley seeks, probably, is living protein—protein, so to speak, struck into life. Just such appears to him to be the nature of protoplasm, and in it he believes himself to possess at last a living clay wherewith to build the whole organic world.

The question, What is Protoplasm? is answered, then; but, for the understanding of what is to follow, there is still one general consideration to be premised.

Mr. Huxley’s conception of protoplasm, as we have seen, is that of living matter, living protein; what we may call, perhaps, elementary life-stuff. Now, is it quite certain that Mr. Huxley is correct in this conception? Are we to understand, for example, that cells have now definitively vanished, and left in their place only a uniform and universal matter of quite indefinite proportions? No; such an understanding would be quite wrong. Whatever may be the opinion of the adherents of the molecular theory of generation, it is certain that all the great German histologists still hold by the cell, and can hardly open their mouths without mention of it. I do not allude here to any special adherents of either nucleus or membrane, but to the most advanced innovators in both respects; to such men as Schultze and Brücke and Kühne. These, as we have seen, pretty well confine their attention, like Mr. Huxley, to the protoplasm. But they do not the less on that account talk of the cell. For them, it is only in cells that protoplasm exists. To their view, we cannot fancy protoplasm as so much matter in a pot, in an ointment-box, any portion of which scooped out in an ear-picker would be so much life-stuff, and, though a part, quite as good as the whole. This seems to be Mr. Huxley’s conception, but it is not theirs. A certain measure goes with protoplasm to constitute it an organism to them, and worthy of their attention. They refuse to give consideration to any mere protoplasm-shred that may not have yet ceased, perhaps, to exhibit all sign of contractility under the microscope, and demand a protoplasm-cell. In short, protoplasm is to them still distributed into cells, and only that measure of protoplasm is cell that is adequate to the whole group of vital manifestations. Brücke, for example, of all innovators probably the most innovating, and denying, or inclined to deny, both nucleus and membrane, does not hesitate, according to Stricker, to speak still of cells as self-complete organisms, that move and grow, that nourish and reproduce themselves, and that perform specific function. “Omnis cellula e cellulâ,” is the rubric they work under as much now as ever. The heart of a turtle, they say, is not a turtle; so neither is a protoplasm-shred a protoplasm-cell.

This, then, is the general consideration which I think it necessary to premise; and it seems, almost of itself, to negate Mr. Huxley’s reasonings in advance, for it warrants us in denying that physiological clay of which all living things are but bricks baked, Mr. Huxley intimates, and in establishing in its place cells as before—living cells that differ infinitely the one from the other, and so differ from the very first moment of their existence. This consideration shall not be allowed to pre-termit, however, an examination of Mr. Huxley’s own proofs, which will only the more and more avail to indicate the difference suggested.

These proofs, as has been said, would, by means of the single fulcrum of protoplasm, establish, first, the identity, and, second, the materiality, of all vegetable and animal life. These are, shortly, the two propositions which we have already seen, and to which, in their order, we now pass.

All organisms, then, whether animal or vegetable, have been understood for some time back to originate in and consist of cells; but the progress of physiology has seemed now to substitute for cells a single matter of life, protoplasm; and it is here that Mr. Huxley sees his cue. Mr. Huxley’s very first word is the “physical basis or matter of life;” and he supposes “that to many the idea that there is such a thing may be novel.” This, then, so far, is what is new in Mr. Huxley’s contribution. He seems to have said to himself, if formerly the whole world was thought kin in an “ideal” or formal element, organization, I shall now finally complete this identification in a “physical” or material element, protoplasm. In short, what at this stage we are asked to witness in the essay is, the identification of all living beings whatever in the identity of protoplasm. As there is a single matter, clay, which is the matter of all bricks, so there is a single matter, protoplasm, which is the matter of all organisms. “Protoplasm is the clay of the potter, which, bake it and paint it as he will, remains clay, separated by artifice, and not by nature, from the commonest brick or sun-dried clod.” Now here I cannot help stopping a moment to remark that Mr. Huxley puts emphatically his whole soul into this sentence, and evidently believes it to be, if we may use the word, a clincher. But, after all, does it say much? or rather, does it say anything? To the question, “Of what are you made?” the answer, for a long time now, and by the great mass of human beings who are supposed civilized, has been “Dust.” Dust, and the same dust, has been allowed to constitute us all. But materialism has not on that account been the irresistible result. Attention hitherto—and surely excusably, or even laudably in such a case—has been given not so much to the dust as to the “potter,” and the “artifice” by which he could so transform, or, as Mr. Huxley will have it, modify it. To ask us to say, instead of dust, clay, or even protoplasm, is not to ask us for much, then, seeing that even to Mr. Huxley there still remain both the “potter” and his “artifice.”

But to return: To Mr. Huxley, when he says all bricks, being made of clay, are the same thing, we answer, Yes, undoubtedly, if they are made of the same clay. That is, the bricks are identical if the clay is identical; but, on the other hand, by as much as the clay differs will the bricks differ. And, similarly, all organisms can be identified only if their composing protoplasm can be identified. To this stake is the argument of Mr. Huxley bound.

This argument itself takes, as we have seen, a threefold course: Mr. Huxley will prove his position in this place by reference, firstly, to unity of faculty; secondly, to unity of form; and thirdly, to unity of substance. It is this course of proof, then, which we have now to follow, but taking the question of substance, as simplest, first, and the others later.

By substance, Mr. Huxley understands the internal or chemical composition; and, with a mere reference to the action of reagents, he asserts the protoplasm of all living beings to be an identical combination of carbon, hydrogen, oxygen, and nitrogen. It is for us to ask, then, Are all samples of protoplasm identical, first, in their chemical composition, and, second, under the action of the various reagents?

On the first clause, we may say, in the first place, towards a proof of difference which will only cumulate, I hope, that, even should we grant in all protoplasm an identity of chemical ingredients, what is called Allotropy may still have introduced no inconsiderable variety. Ozone is not antozone, nor is oxygen either, though in chemical constitution all are alike. In the second place, again, we may say that, with varying proportions, the same component parts produce very various results. By way of illustration, it will suffice to refer to such different things as the proteids, gluten, albumen, fibrin, gelatine, etc., compared with the urinary products, urea and uric acid; or with the biliary products, glycocol, glycocolic acid, bili-rubin, bili-verdin, etc.; and yet all these substances, varying so much the one from the other, are, as protoplasm is, compounds of carbon, hydrogen, oxygen, and nitrogen. But, in the third place, we are not limited to a may say; we can assert the fact that all protoplasm is not chemically identical. All the tissues of the organism are called protoplasm by Mr. Huxley; but can we predicate chemical identity of muscle and bone, for example? In such cases Mr. Huxley, it is true, may bring the word “modified” into use; but the objection of modification we shall examine later. In the mean time, we are justified, by Mr. Huxley’s very argument, in regarding all organized tissues whatever as protoplasm; for if these tissues are not to be identified in protoplasm, we must suppose denied what it was his one business to affirm. And it is against that affirmation that we point to the fact of much chemical difference obtaining among the tissues, not only in the proportions of their fundamental elements, but also in the addition (and proportions as well) of such others as chlorine, sulphur, phosphorus, potash, soda, lime, magnesia, iron, etc. Vast differences vitally must be legitimately assumed for tissues that are so different chemically. But, in the fourth place, we have the authority of the Germans for asserting that the cells themselves—and they now, to the most advanced, are only protoplasm—do differ chemically, some being found to contain glycogen, some cholesterine, some protogon, and some myosin. Now such substances, let the chemical analogy be what it may, must still be allowed to introduce chemical difference. In the last place, Mr. Huxley’s analysis is an analysis of dead protoplasm, and indecisive, consequently, for that which lives. Mr. Huxley betrays sensitiveness in advance to this objection; for he seeks to rise above the sensitiveness and the objection at once by styling the latter “frivolous.” Nevertheless the Germans say pointedly that it is unknown whether the same elements are to be referred to the cells after as before death. Kühne does not consider it proved that living muscle contains syntonin; yet Mr. Huxley tells us, in his Physiology, that “syntonin is the chief constituent of muscle and flesh.” In general, we may say, according to Stricker, that all weight is put now on the examination of living tissue, and that the difference is fully allowed between that and dead tissue.

On the second clause now, or with regard to the action of reagents, these must be denied to produce the like result on the various forms of protoplasm. With reference to temperature, for example, Kühne reports the movements of the amoeba to be arrested in iced water; while, in the same medium, the ova of the trout furrow famously, but perish even in a warmed room. Others, again, we are told, may be actually dried, and yet live. Of ova in general, in this connection, it is said that they live or die according as the temperature to which they are exposed differs little or much from that which is natural to the organisms producing them. In some, according to Max Schultze, even distilled water is enough to arrest movement. Now, not to dwell longer here, both amoeba and ova are to Mr. Huxley pure protoplasm; and such difference of result, according to difference of temperature, etc., must assuredly be allowed to point to a difference of original nature. Any conclusion so far, then, in regard to unity of substance, whether the chemical composition or the action of reagents be considered, cannot be said to bear out the views of Mr. Huxley.

What now of the unities of form and power in protoplasm? By form, Mr. Huxley will be found to mean the general appearance and structure; and by faculty or power, the action exhibited. Now it will be very easy to prove that, in neither respect, do all specimens of protoplasm agree. Mr. Huxley’s representative protoplasm, it appears, is that of the nettle-sting; and he describes it as a granulated, semi-fluid body, contractile in mass, and contractile also in detail to the development of a species of circulation. Stricker, again, speaks of it as a homogeneous substance, in which any granules that may appear must be considered of foreign importation, and in which there are no evidences of circulation. In this last respect, then, that Mr. Huxley should talk of “tiny Maelstroms,” such as even in the silence of a tropical noon might stun us, if heard, as “with the roar of a great city,” may be viewed, perhaps, as a rise into poetry beyond the occasion.

Further, according to Stricker, protoplasm varies almost infinitely in consistence, in shape, in structure, and in function. In consistence, it is sometimes so fluid as to be capable of forming in drops; sometimes semi-fluid and gelatinous; sometimes of considerable resistance. In shape—for to Stricker the cells are now protoplasm—we have club-shaped protoplasm, globe-shaped protoplasm, cup-shaped protoplasm, bottle-shaped protoplasm, spindle-shaped protoplasm—branched, threaded, ciliated protoplasm,—circle-headed protoplasm—flat, conical, cylindrical, longitudinal, prismatic, polyhedral, and palisade-like protoplasm. In structure, again, it is sometimes uniform and sometimes reticulated into interspaces that contain fluid. In function, lastly—and here we have entered on the consideration of faculty or power—some protoplasm is vagrant (so to translate wandernd), and of unknown use, like the colorless blood-corpuscles.

In reference to these, as strengthening the argument, and throwing much light generally, I break off a moment to say that, very interesting as they are in themselves, and as Recklinghausen, in especial, has made them, Mr. Huxley’s theory of them disagrees considerably with the prevalent German one. He speaks of them as the source of the body in general, yet, in his Physiology, he talks of the spleen, the lymphatics, and even the liver—parts of the body—as their source. They are so few in number that, while Mr. Huxley is thankful to be able to point to the inside of the lips as a seat for them, they bear to the red corpuscles only the proportion of 1 to 450. This disproportion, however, is no bar to Mr. Huxley’s derivation of the latter from the former. But the fact is questioned. The Germans, generally, for their, part, describe the colorless, or vagrant, blood-corpuscles as probably media of conjugation or reparation, but acknowledge their function to be as yet quite unknown; while Rindfleisch, characterizing the spleen as the grave of the red, and the womb of the white, corpuscles, evidently refers the latter to the former. This, indeed, is a matter of direct assertion with Preyer, who has “shown that pieces of red blood-corpuscles may be eaten by the amoeboid cells of the frog,” and holds that the latter (the white corpuscles) proceed directly from the former (the red corpuscles); so that it seems to be determined in the mean time that there is no proof of the reverse being the fact.

In function, then, to resume, some protoplasm is vagrant, and of unknown use. Some again produces pepsine, and some fat. Some at least contains pigment. Then there is nerve-protoplasm, brain-protoplasm, bone-protoplasm, muscle-protoplasm, and protoplasm of all the other tissues, no one of which but produces only its own kind, and is uninterchangeable with the rest. Lastly, on this head, we have to point to the overwhelming fact that there is the infinitely different protoplasm of the various infinitely different plants and animals, in each of which its own protoplasm, as in the case of that of the various tissues, but produces its own kind, and is uninterchangeable with that of the rest.

It may be objected, indeed, that these latter are examples of modified protoplasm. The objection of modification, as said, we have to see by itself later; but, in the mean time, it may be asked, Where are we to begin, not to have modified protoplasm? We have the example of Mr. Huxley himself, who, in the nettle-sting, begins already with modified protoplasm; and we have the authority of Rindfleisch for asserting that “in every different tissue we must look for a different initial term of the productive series.” This, evidently, is a very strong light on the original multiplicity of protoplasm, which the consideration, as we have seen, of the various plants and animals, has made, further, infinite. This is enough; but there is no wish to evade beginning with the very beginning—with absolutely pure initial protoplasm, if it can but be given us in any reference. The simple egg—that, probably is the beginning—that, probably, is the original identity; yet even there we find already distribution of the identity into infinite difference. This, certainly, with reference to the various organisms, but with reference also to the various tissues. That we regard the egg as the beginning, and that we do not start, like the smaller exceptional physiological school, with molecules themselves, depends on this, that the great Germans so often alluded to, Kühne among them, still trust in the experiments of Pasteur; and while they do not deny the possibility, or even the fact, of molecular generation, still feel justified in denying the existence of any observation that yet unassailably attests a generatio æquivoca. By such authority as this the simple philosophical spectator has no choice but to take his stand; and therefore it is that I assume the egg as the established beginning, so far, of all vegetable and animal organisms. To the egg, too, as the beginning, Mr. Huxley, though the lining of the nettle-sting is his representative protoplasm, at least refers. “In the earliest condition of the human organism,” he says, in allusion to the white (vagrant) corpuscles of the blood, “in that state in which it has but just become distinguished from the egg in which it arises, it is nothing but an aggregation of such corpuscles, and every organ of the body was once no more than such an aggregation.” Now, in beginning with the egg—an absolute beginning being denied us in consequence of the pre-existent infinite difference of the egg or eggs themselves—we may gather from the German physiologists some such account of the actual facts as this.

The first change signalized in the impregnated egg seems that of Furchung, or furrowing—what the Germans call the Furchungskugeln, the Dotterkugeln, form. Then these Kugeln—clumps, eminences, monticles, we may translate the word—break into cells; and these are the cells of the embryo. Mr. Huxley, as quoted, refers to the whole body, and every organ of the body, as at first but an aggregation of colorless blood-corpuscles; but in the very statement which would render the identity alone explicit, the difference is quite as plainly implicit. As much as this lies in the word “organs,” to say nothing of “human.” The cells of the “organs,” to which he refers, are even then uninterchangeable, and produce but themselves. The Germans tell us of the Keimblatt, the germ-leaf, in which all these organs originate. This Blatt, or leaf, is threefold, it seems; but even these folds are not indifferent. The various cells have their distinct places in them from the first. While what in this connection are called the epithelial and endorthelial tissues spring respectively from the upper and under leaf, connective tissues, with muscle and blood, spring from the middle one. Surely in such facts we have a perfect warrant to assert the initial non-identity of protoplasm, and to insist on this, that, from the very earliest moment—even literally ab ovo—brain-cells only generate brain-cells, bone-cells bone-cells, and so on.

These considerations on function all concern faculty or power; but we have to notice now that the characteristic and fundamental form of power is to Mr. Huxley contractility. He even quotes Goethe in proof of contractility being the main power or faculty of Man! Nevertheless it is to be said at once that, while there are differences in what protoplasm is contractile, all protoplasm is not contractile, nor dependent on contractility for its functions. In the former respect, for example, muscle, while it is the contractile tissue special, is also to Mr. Huxley protoplasm; yet Stricker asserts the inner construction of the contractile substance, of which muscle-fibre virtually consists, to be essentially different from contractile protoplasm. Here, then, we have the contractile substance proper “essentially different” from the contractile source proper. In the latter respect, again, we shall not call in the uncontractible substances which Mr. Huxley himself denominates protoplasm—bread, namely, roast mutton, and boiled lobster; but we may ask where—even in the case of a living body—is the contractility of white of egg? In this reference, too, we may remark that Kühne, who divides the protoplasm of the epidermis into three classes, has been unable to distinguish contractility in his own third class. Lastly, where, in relation to the protoplasm of the nervous system, is there evidence of its contractility? Has any one pretended that thought is but the contraction of the brain; or is it by contraction that the very nerves operate contraction—the nerves that supply muscles, namely? Mr. Huxley himself, in his Physiology, describes nervous action very differently. There conduction is spoken of without a hint of contraction. Of the higher faculties of man I have to speak again; but let us just ask where, in the case of any pure sensation—smell, taste, touch, sound, color—is there proof of any contraction? Are we to suppose that between the physical cause of heat without and the mental sensation of heat within, contraction is anywhere interpolated? Generally, in conclusion here, while reminding of Virchow’s testimony to the inherent inequalities of cell-capacity, let us but, on the question of faculty, contrast the kidney and the brain, even as these organs are viewed by Mr. Huxley. To him the one is but a sieve for the extrusion of refuse: the other thinks Newton’s ‘Principia’ and Iliads of Homer.

Probably, then, in regard to any continuity in protoplasm of power, of form, or of substance, we have seen lacunæ enow. Nay, Mr. Huxley himself can be adduced in evidence on the same side. Not rarely do we find in his essay admissions of probability where it is certainty that is alone in place. He says, for example, “It is more than probable that when the vegetable world is thoroughly explored we shall find all plants in possession of the same powers.” When a conclusion is decidedly announced, it is rather disappointing to be told, as here, that the premises are still to collect. “So far,” he says again, “as the conditions of the manifestations of the phenomena of contractility have yet been studied.” Now, such a so far need not be very far; and we may confess in passing, that from Mr. Huxley the phrase, “the conditions of the manifestations of the phenomena” grates. We hear again that it is “the rule rather than the exception,” or that “weighty authorities have suggested” that such and such things “probably occur,” or, while contemplating the nettle-sting, that such “possible complexity” in other cases “dawns upon one.” On other occasions he expresses himself to the effect that “perhaps it would not yet be safe to say that all forms,” etc. Nay, not only does he directly say that “it is by no means his intention to suggest that there is no difference between the lowest plant and the highest, or between plants and animals,” but he directly proves what he says, for he demonstrates in plants and animals an essential difference of power. Plants can assimilate inorganic matters, animals can not, etc. Again, here is a passage in which he is seen to cut his own “basis” from beneath his own feet. After telling us that all forms of protoplasm consist of carbon, hydrogen, oxygen, and nitrogen “in very complex union,” he continues, “To this complex combination, the nature of which has never been determined with exactness, the name of protein has been applied.” This, plainly, is an identification, on Mr. Huxley’s own part, of protoplasm and protein; and what is said of the one being necessarily true of the other, it follows that Mr. Huxley admits the nature of protoplasm never to have been determined with exactness, and that, even in his eyes, the lis is still sub judice. This admission is strengthened by the words, too, “If we use this term” (protein) “with such caution as may properly arise out of our comparative ignorance of the things for which it stands;” which entitle us to recommend, in consequence “of our comparative ignorance of the things for which it stands,” “caution” in the use of the term protoplasm. In such a state of the case we cannot wonder that Mr. Huxley’s own conclusion here is: Therefore “all living matter is more or less albuminoid.” All living matter is more or less albuminoid! That, indeed, is the single conclusion of Mr. Huxley’s whole industry; but it is a conclusion that, far from requiring the intervention of protoplasm, had been reached long before the word itself had been, in this connection, used.

It is in this way, then, that Mr. Huxley can be adduced in refutation of himself; and I think his resort to an epigram of Goethe’s for reduction of the powers of man to those of contraction, digestion, and reproduction, can be regarded as an admission to the same effect. The epigram runs thus:—