urday night, and just after nine. Had the cellar door, which was unfastened. Aunt Betsy arisen this cold winter's When Tom got to the bottom of the night, and come to wind up the clock? cellar stairs, he found himself in a Tom fancied that something brushed past warmer and softer atmosphere — an athim, that his hand touched something mosphere strangely perfumed, too, with cold he could have shouted with terror; the fragrance of drugs and spices. There he would have run, regardless of all risks, was no damp or chilliness about these back to his own room, but he felt chained cellars, which had been made centuries and rooted to the spot. He felt, with ago. Warm in winter, and cool in sumhis foot, around him, not daring to stir mer, they had been splendid wine-cellars from the place; and his foot came in in the olden days. Many a pipe of good contact with something that rattled as old port, many a cask of sherry, and butt he struck it. It was a box of lucifer- of generous Madeira, had been drained matches. dry in that famous cellar in days long gone by. Tom didn't think of how the matches got there, or of the danger of striking a The sounds from the hall-door had light. He was only conscious of an ceased. Tom began to think that he had eager desire to dissipate the terrors that been deceived, and that the noise he had surrounded him. He picked up the heard had simply been the wind, that match-box and struck a light. As the was now beginning to rise, and sough flame leaped into life, there was a gentle mournfully around. But he had much rustle and stir about him: beetles, cock- bettered his position, as he would be far roaches, crickets, made a general stam- warmer and more comfortable down here pede. If any other forms had lurked than in that dismal kitchen. Everything in the darkness, they had softly disap- was quiet above, and he thought he might peared. The old clock, whose face was venture to strike a light, that he might in strong contrast to the general dirt and reconnoitre his position, and make himgriminess of the place, was placidly tick-self snug for the night, for he began to ing away through it all. At his feet there lay a piece of wax-candle. "There have been thieves here, the thieves who stole my money," said Tom to himself. Surely, if the police saw this, they would believe me; but then there's nothing here but what I could have put myself, so I should be no better off." feel insupportably weary. The one window in the cellar opened into the garden, and was so overgrown outside with rank vegetation, that there was no danger of his light being seen, even if it had not been properly blocked up. topped with a stone slab, which had formerly held dishes and pans. There was the old cask-stand in one corner; and in the other, there was something new and strange - something that struck Tom with an instinctive terror and dread. The candle lighted, Tom looked around him. The cellar seemed altogether clean and bare, just as he remembered it of Then Tom became alive to the dangerold. A ledge or table ran all round it, he incurred of discovery. He blew out his light, and began to ponder as to what he should do next. His meditations were interrupted by a low noise of grating and grinding, that came from the direction of the hall-door, and Tom thought that he heard whispered conversation as well. The sounds grew more and more distinct; clearly some persons were trying to get into the house from outside. The police, no doubt, thought Tom; they have caught sight of the light, and they mean to hem me in on all sides. To retreat by the way he came, Tom saw, would be to put his head into the lion's mouth. They had possession of the house by this time, no doubt, and his capture would only be a question of time. But there was one chance the cellar that ran under the old part of the house, the entrance to which was from the inner corner of the kitchen, the door being close to the clock. Guided by the ticking of the clock, Tom made his way to VOL. VII. 363 LIVING AGE. In form and general appearance, this was like a sentry-box, and of the same height and size; but it was shaped at the ends so as also to resemble a boat set on end. Round the edge was a broad border of cork, painted black, so that, if a boat at all, it must be a life-boat. It was inclosed in front with a lid door or deck of polished oak. At the top of this was a narrow grating of brass or gilt metal. A small brass knob, half-way down, indicated that here was the way of opening the lid or deck. Something was tied to this knob by a piece of string, in appearance and reality a letter. Curiosity outmastered fear. Tom advanced and snatched the letter from the knob. It was in Aunt Betsy's handwriting, sealed with her great gold seal, and addressed | times towards the sources of natural simply to "My Successor." phenomena. The same impulse, inTom opened the letter full of strange herited and intensified, is the spur of awe. Yes, it was from Aunt Betsy- a scientific action to-day. Determined by posthumous message from his aunt: it, by a process of abstraction from experience we form physical theories which When you, young sir, open this - if lie beyond the pale of experience, but you ever do open it, as I hope and sin- which satisfy the desire of the mind to - all my cerely trust you never may see every natural occurrence resting hopes will have come to an end, and you upon a cause. In forming their notions may smile at the folly of an old wo-of the origin of things, our earliest hisman who has trusted to lying promises. toric (and doubtless, we might add, our Laugh yourself, if you will, but do not let prehistoric) ancestors pursued, as far as any one else laugh. To you, at all events, their intelligence permitted, the same I have proved a benefactor. Respect my course. They also fell back upon experimemory and my wishes. My wishes are: ence, but with this difference" that the that this house be pulled down, and every particular experiences which furnished trace of it destroyed; that my poor body the weft and woof of their theories were be put in a coffin, with quicklime, and buried quietly in the churchyard of drawn, not from the study of nature, but from what lay much closer to them, the Milford, with a marble monument, and observation of men. Their theories acthe figure of a shipwreck over it, and cordingly took an anthropomorphic form. that the epitaph upon it shall be: To supersensual beings, which, "however "Here lies poor Betsy Rennel. She was born before her time, lived after her potent and invisible, were nothing but a species of human creatures, perhaps prime, and lies here in lime." To pay raised from among mankind, and retainthese expenses, and to reward you executing my wishes, I will give you this ing all human passions and appetites," were handed over the rule and govrhyme : ernance of natural phenomena. .66 for Underneath the thyme and mint, the marjoram and the rue, Dig deep, and you shall find a herb that's safe to pleasure you. If you can't understand this, you are a fool, and may lose your thousands. BETSY RENNEL. Tested by observation and reflection, these early notions failed in the long run to satisfy the more penetrating intellect of our race. Far in the depths of history we find men of exceptional power differentiating themselves from the crowd, rejecting these anthropomorphic notions, and seeking to connect natural phenomena with their physical principles. But long prior to these purer efforts of the understanding the merchant had been abroad, and rendered the philosopher possible; commerce had been developed, wealth amassed, leisure for travel and for speculation secured, while races educat ed under different conditions, and therefore differently informed and endowed, had been stimulated and sharpened by mutual contact. In those regions where the commercial aristocracy of ancient Greece mingled with its eastern neighbours, the sciences were born, being nurtured and developed by free-thinking and courageous men. The state of things to be displaced may be gathered from a passage of Euripides quoted by Hume. "There is nothing in the world: no glory, no prosperity. The gods toss all into confusion; mix everything with its reverse. that all of us, from our ignorance and uncertainty, may pay them the more wor Hume, "Natural History of Religion." ship and reverence." Now, as science demands the radical extirpation of caprice and the absolute reliance upon law in nature, there grew with the growth of scientific notions a desire and determination to sweep from the field of theory this mob of gods and demons, and to place natural phenomena on a basis more congruent with themselves. The principles enunciated by Democritus reveal his uncompromising antagonism to those who deduced the phenomena of nature from the caprices of the gods. They are briefly these : - I. From nothing comes nothing. Nothing that exists can be destroyed. All changes are due to the combination and separation of molecules. 2. Nothing happens by The problem which had been previ- chance. Every occurrence has its cause ously approached from above was now from which it follows by necessity. 3. attacked from below; theoretic effort The only existing things are the atoms and passed from the super to the sub-sensi- empty space; all else is mere opinion. ble. It was felt that to construct the uni- 4. The atoms are infinite in number, and verse in idea it was necessary to have infinitely various in form; they strike some notion of its constituent parts of together, and the lateral motions and what Lucretius subsequently called the whirlings which thus arise are the begin"First Beginnings." Abstracting againnings of worlds. 5. The varieties of all from experience, the leaders of scientific things depend upon the varieties of their speculation reached at length the preg- atoms, in number, size, and aggregation. nant doctrine of atoms and molecules, 6. The soul consists of free, smooth, the latest developments of which were round atoms, like those of fire. These set forth with such power and clearness are the most mobile of all. They interat the last meeting of the British Associa- penetrate the whole body, and in their tion. Thought no doubt had long hov-motions the phenomena of life arise. ered about this doctrine before it at- Thus the atoms of Democritus are inditained the precision and completeness vidually without sensation; they comwhich it assumed in the mind of Democ-bine in obedience to mechanical laws; ritus, a philosopher who may well for and not only organic forms, but the phea moment arrest our attention. "Few nomena of sensation and thought are great men," says Lange, in his excellent also the result of their combination. "History of Materialism," a work to the That great enigma, "the exquisite adspirit and the letter of which I am equally aptation of one part of an organism to indebted, "have been so despitefully another part, and to the conditions of used by history as Democritus. In the life," more especially the construction of distorted images sent down to us through the human body, Democritus made no unscientific traditions there remains of attempt to solve. Empedocies, a man of him almost nothing but the name of the more fiery and poetic nature, introduced laughing philosopher,' while figures of the notion of love and hate among the immeasurably smaller significance spread atoms to account for their combination themselves at full length before us." and separation. Noticing this gap in Lange speaks of Bacon's high appreciation the doctrine of Democritus, he struck in of Democritus - for ample illustrations with the penetrating thought, linked, of which I am indebted to my excellent however, with some wild speculation, friend Mr. Spedding, the learned editor that it lay in the very nature of those and biographer of Bacon. It is evident, combinations which were suited to their indeed, that Bacon considered Democ- ends (in other words, in harmony with ritus to be a man of weightier metal than their environment) to maintain themeither Plato or Aristotle, though their selves, while unfit combinations, having philosophy "was noised and celebrated in no proper habitat, must rapidly disappear. the schools amid the din and pomp of Thus more than 2,000 years ago, the docprofessors." It was not they, but Gen- trine of the "survival of the fittest," seric and Attila and the barbarians, who which in our day, not on the basis of destroyed the atomic philosophy. vague conjecture, but of positive knowlat a time when all human learning had edge, has been raised to such extraordisuffered shipwreck, these planks of Aris-nary significance, had received at all totelian and Platonic philosophy, as be- events partial enunciation.* ing of a lighter and more inflated substance, were preserved and came down to us, while things more solid sank and almost passed into oblivion." Born 460 B.C. "For Epicurus,t said to be the son of a poor schoolmaster at Samos, is the next dom *Lange, 2nd edit., p. 23. inant figure in the history of the atomic relation to the gods. And it is assuredly philosophy. He mastered the writings a fact that loftiness and serenity of of Democritus, heard lectures in Athens, thought may be promoted by conceptions returned to Samos, and subsequently which involve no idea of profit of this wandered through various countries. He kind. "Did I not believe," said a great finally returned to Athens, where he man to me once, "that an Intelligence is bought a garden, and surrounded himself at the heart of things, my life on earth by pupils, in the midst of whom he lived a would be intolerable." The utterer of pure and serene life, and died a peaceful these words is not, in my opinion, rendeath. His philosophy was almost identi- dered less noble but more noble, by the cal with that of Democritus; but he never fact that it was the need of ethical harquoted either friend or foe. One main mony here, and not the thought of perobject of Epicurus was to free the world sonal profit hereafter, that prompted his from superstition and the fear of death. observation. Death he treated with indifference. It merely robs us of sensation. As long as we are, death is not; and when death is, we are not. Life has no more evil for him who has made up his mind that it is no evil not to live. He adored the gods, but not in the ordinary fashion. The idea of divine power, properly purified, he thought an elevating one. Still he taught, "Not he is godless who rejects the gods of the crowd, but rather he who accepts them." The gods were to him eternal and immortal beings, whose blessedness excluded every thought of care or occupation of any kind. Nature pursues her course in accordance with everlasting laws, the gods never interfering. They haunt The lucid interspace of world and world has A century and a half after the death of Epicurus, Lucretius* wrote his great poem, "On the Nature of Things," in which he, a Roman, developed with extraordinary ardour the philosophy of his Greek predecessor. He wishes to win over his friend Memnius to the school of Epicurus; and although he has no rewards in a future life to offer, although his object appears to be a purely negative one, he addresses his friend with the heat of an apostle. His object, like that of his great forerunner, is the destruction of superstition; and considering that men trembled before every natural event as a direct monition from the gods, and that everlasting torture was also in prospect, the freedom aimed at by Lucretius might perhaps be deemed a "This terror," he says, positive good. "and darkness of mind must be dispelled, not by the rays of the sun and glittering shafts of day, but by the aspect and the law of nature." He refutes the notion Lange considers the relation of Epicu- that anything can come out of nothing, rus to the gods subjective; the indica- or that that which is once begotten can tion probably of an ethical requirement be recalled to nothing. The first beginof his own nature. We cannot read his- nings, the atoms, are indestructible, and tory with open eyes, or study human na-into them all things can be dissolved at ture to its depths, and fail to discern last. Bodies are partly atoms and partly such a requirement. Man never combinations of atoms; but the atoms been and he never will be satisfied with nothing can quench. They are strong in the operations and products of the under- solid singleness, and by their denser standing alone; hence physical science combination all things can be closely cannot cover all the demands of his na- packed and exhibit enduring strength. ture. But the history of the efforts made He denies that matter is infinitely divisito satisfy these demands might be broad- ble. We come at length to the atoms, ly described as a history of errors the without which, as an imperishable substraerror consisting in ascribing fixity to that tum, all order in the generation and dewhich is fluent, which varies as we vary, velopment of things would be destroyed. being gross when we are gross, and becoming, as our capacities widen, more abstract and sublime. On one great point the mind of Epicurus was at peace. He neither sought nor expected, here or hereafter, any personal profit from his * Tennyson's "Lucretius." The mechanical shock of the atoms being in his view the all-sufficient cause of things, he combats the notion that the constitution of nature has been in any way determined by intelligent design. The interaction of the atoms throughout Born 99 B.C. infinite time rendered all manner of com- | measure complete by the union of inducbinations possible. Of these the fit ones tion and experiment. persisted, while the unfit ones disappeared. Not after sage deliberation did the atoms station themselves in their right places, nor did they bargain what motions they should assume. From all eternity they have been driven together, and after trying motions and unmotions of every kind, they fell at length into the arrangements out of which this system of things has been formed. His grand conception of the atoms falling silently through immeasurable ranges of space and time suggested the nebular hypothesis to Kant, its first propounder. If you will apprehend and keep in mind these things, Nature, free at once, and rid of her haughty lords, is seen to do all things spontaneously of herself, without the meddling of the gods." * 66 What, then, stopped its victorious advance? Why was the scientific intellect compelled, like an exhausted soil, to lie fallow for nearly two millenniums before it could regather the elements necessary to its fertility and strength? Bacon has already let us know one cause; Whewell ascribes this stationary period to four causes-obscurity of thought, servility, intolerance of disposition, enthusiasm of temper; and he gives striking examples of each.* But these characteristics must have had their causes, which lay in the circumstances of the time. Rome and the other cities of the empire had fallen into moral putrefaction. Christianity had appeared offering the gospel to the poor, and by moderation if not asceticism of life, practically protesting against the profliDuring the centuries between the first gacy of the age. The sufferings of the of these three philosophers and the last, early Christians and the extraordinary the human intellect was active in other exaltation of mind which enabled them fields than theirs. The Sophists had run to triumph over the diabolical tortures to through their career. At Athens had which they were subjected.† must have appeared the three men, Socrates, Plato, left traces not easily effaced. They and Aristotle, whose yoke remains to scorned the earth, in view of that "buildsome extent unbroken to the presenting of God, that house not made with hour. Within this period also the School hands, eternal in the heavens." The of Alexandria was founded, Euclid wrote Scriptures which ministered to their spirhis "Elements,” and he and others made|itual needs were also the measure of their some advance in optics. Archimedes had propounded the theory of the lever and the principles of hydrostatics. Pythagoras had made his experiments on the harmonic intervals, while astronomy was immensely enriched by the discoveries of Hipparchus, who was followed by the historically more celebrated Ptolemy. Anatomy had been made the basis of scientific medicine; and it is said by Draper that vivisection then began. In fact, the science of ancient Greece had already cleared the world of the fantastic images of divinities operating capriciously through natural phenomena. It had shaken itself free from that fruitless scrutiny "by the internal light of the mind alone," which had vainly sought to transcend experience and reach a knowl-investigation. edge of ultimate causes. Instead of accidental observation, it had introduced observation with a purpose; instruments were employed to aid the senses; and scientific method was rendered in a great Monro's translation. In his criticism of this work (Contemporary Review, 1867) Dr. Hayman does not appear to be aware of the really sound and subtle observations on which the reasoning of Lucretius, though erroneous, sometimes rests. + " History of the Intellectual Development of Europe," p. 295. science. When, for example, the celebrated question of antipodes came to be discussed, the Bible was with many the ultimate court of appeal. Augustine, who flourished A.D. 400, would not deny the rotundity of the earth, but he would deny the possible existence of inhabitants at the other side, "because no such race is recorded in Scripture among the descendants of Adam." Archbishop Boniface was shocked at the assumption of a "world of human beings out of the reach of the means of salvation." Thus reined in, science was not likely to make much progress. Later on, the political and theological strife between the Church and civil goverments, so powerfully depicted by Draper, must have done much to stifle Whewell makes many wise and brave remarks regarding the spirit of the Middle Ages. It was a menial spirit. The seekers after natural knowledge had forsaken that fountain of living waters, the direct appeal to nature by observation and experiment, and had given themselves up to the remanipulation of the "History of the Inductive Sciences," vol. i. Depicted with terrible vividness in Rénan's "Anti christ. |