(252.) In extending the foregoing reflections to the suggestion of means for obviating the evils therein complained of, and for giving to the science of the country that efficient support which it so much requires, we feel that we are entering upon a subject of difficulty and delicacy. Those who are averse to the innovation of established customs, institutions, or modes of thinking, are always more numerous than those who imagine they can be improved. This feeling is natural to the mass of mankind. Few have either the energy, or the inclination, to look deeply into things which they have been accustomed to see go on, year after year, in the same course; and which, they therefore conclude, require neither alteration nor amendment. Say what we will, the mind leans with a degree of fondness, if not of veneration, to every thing which has the authority of antiquity, or of long-continued usage; and these feelings are increased, if those whom we most esteem, and who may have to administer our ancient laws, conscientiously defend their continuance. On the other hand it is to be remembered, that all institutions, to be extensively beneficial, must be altered and modified to suit that progressive improvement which is the consequence of good government. So plain a truth as this, none can be found to deny in the abstract; but the moment we come to apply it in its particulars, — to single out any one case which, for assigned reasons.

(103.) There are two modes by which our knowledge of natural history can be successfully prosecuted. The first of these is to commence with investigating the forms and properties of species; combining them, according to their degrees of similarity, into groups or assemblages of different magnitudes; and then attempting to discover what general inferences can be drawn from such combinations, or, in other words, what are the principles by which their variations are regulated. This is the analytical method, by which we commence, as with an alphabet; and from letters determine words; from words proceeding to sentences; and, combining these, again, to chapters. By the second mode, we proceed quite differently. We begin by taking for granted the correctness of certain given principles, and apply them to the investigation and arrangement of some particular group. This is the synthetic mode. By the first, we commence as if all general laws were yet to be discovered; by the latter, as if they were already known, and only required a more particular or extended application.

(104.) As all true knowledge of the combinations of nature must originate in analysis, we shall first intimate how this can be most successfully prosecuted.

(205.) The enquiry we are now to enter upon, although to some it may appear irrelevant, is yet intimately and vitally connected with the object of this volume. We have, in the preceding pages, laid before the reader those advantages — chiefly intellectual — which might allure him to the study of nature. He may, indeed, gather recreation and delight in limiting his contemplations to the simple objects which a rural walk affords to him. He may be content to admire a few detached ornaments of the temple, without desiring to understand the extent and harmonious construction of the building itself. But, if he desire to quit this humble path of enquiry for another more elevated, if he wish to generalise his ideas, and compare his observations with those of others, he is no longer, as in the former case, dependent upon his own resources; he must associate with those of similar pursuits and studies with himself. He must learn to distinguish that which is known from that which is unknown, and this can only be done by a reciprocal communication of knowledge. Hence, the origin of all societies. The value of such associations is greater, perhaps, than at first sight it appears to be; for, besides those advantages just mentioned, there is another, without which some of the most gifted minds would probably remain inert and inactive.

(162.) The characters by which natural groups, like those we have hitherto contemplated, are to be known and designated, has been a fruitful subject of disquisition among writers. It has been customary, until within the last few years, for naturalists to decide, à priori, upon those characters which a group of species, or a single one, should possess, in order to constitute a genus. This mode of proceeding, as may naturally be supposed, led every one to follow his own opinion; so that almost every part of an animal, in turn, had been singled out as the most important for this purpose. Thus, Linnæus founded his genera of birds entirely on the form of the bill and the construction of the feet; totally disregarding the formation of their wings, — which is one of the chief characteristics of birds, — and entirely overlooking their manners, habits, and food. In entomology, however, he constructed his genera on a totally different principle. Here he considers the wings of insects as affording the most important characters; and he has accordingly founded all his great divisions, and most of his lesser ones, in the different modifications which these members present; while the mouth and the feet, which were so highly regarded in his arrangement of birds, are scarcely noticed in his classification of insects. Fabricius, on the other hand, as if determined to fly to the other extreme, takes all his leading characters from those parts of insects which his great master regarded as insignificant.

(136.) It has been shown, in the preceding chapter, that there are three modes by which the objects of nature may be classified; and that one of these — that is, the natural system — is alone conducive to the advancement of natural history as a physical science. To this, therefore, we shall hereafter confine our attention; because the principles of this science must be discovered by a similar series of inductive generalisations to those used in every department of natural philosophy, “through which one spirit reigns, and one method of enquiry applies.”

(137.) Let us suppose, then, that an entomological student, with a well-filled cabinet of unarranged insects, having his mind well stored with those simple facts regarding their structure and economy which he is to look upon as solid data — let us suppose him to commence the arrangement of the objects before him, according to what he thinks their true affinities, and with a view of verifying or discovering their natural arrangement. He commences by placing, one after the other, those species which bear the greatest mutual resemblance; and for a time he proceeds so satisfactorily, — he finds the several links of the chain, as it were, fit into each other so harmoniously, — that he begins to think the task much easier than he at first expected; and that he will not only be able to prove, by these very examples before him, the absolute connection of one given genus to another, but also to demonstrate that the scale of nature is simple — that is, passing in a straight line from the highest to the lowest organised forms.

(55.) I. The nature and objects of the science having now been sufficiently explained, we may consider the advantages which more peculiarly attend its prosecution, independent of those which have already been noticed, in a general way, as belonging to all intellectual pursuits. We shall enumerate these advantages under distinct heads, because some are applicable only to particular persons, objects, or circumstances; and because, by so doing, we may excite an interest and a love for these enquiries in the minds of many persons, who imagine they have neither the abilities to study, nor the means of adopting such pursuits, and of others who think they are in no way interested in them. We shall therefore look to natural history — 1. as connected with religion; 2. as a recreation; 3. as affecting the arts and common purposes of life; and, 4. as an essential accomplishment to the traveller.

(56.) All the advantages that result from science, are comprehended under two distinct classes: — 1. Either they relate to our worldly prosperity, by opening new sources of wealth, of convenience, or of luxury; or, 2. they administer to intellectual gratification and our spiritual welfare. When, therefore, we speak of the advantages attending the prosecution of this science, we must readily admit that they chiefly belong to the latter class, although they may, in a limited degree, be applied to the former.

(1.) To form a just estimate of the relative position of any science at a given period, it is necessary that the prominent events in its history be rightly understood. It seems, therefore, expedient to commence this discourse with a slight sketch of the rise and progress of zoological science; or, more properly, of the progressive discovery of the forms, structures, and habits belonging to the animal world; a world replete with such an infinity of beings, each possessing so many peculiarities of habit and economy, that, notwithstanding the united efforts of human research for thousands of years, there is not one of them whose history, as yet, can be pronounced complete.

(2.) The vast and diversified field of enquiry over which zoology extends, and the many distinct portions into which it is now distributed, render it extremely difficult to embrace the whole in one general exposition. For it has happened, that at one period of time while our knowledge has made gigantic progress in one department, it has been stationary, or even retrograde, in others; and at another epoch we find that original research has been abandoned, and the technicalities of system and nomenclature alone regarded. To meet the first difficulty, and to preserve, nevertheless, a connected narrative, it seems advisable to treat the subject historically; and pre-supposing certain epochs in this science, to detail the peculiar characteristics of each.

My Dear Sir,

Concurring with you in opinion that the Government of this great country does less for the encouragement of science than that of any other civilised state, I am not disposed to admit that our English universities and ecclesiastical establishment are copartners with our civil governors in the disgrace attaching to them by this statement of a fact. As to “Natural History,” as a science, it was not “come to the birth”—was scarce indeed conceived, or in embryo state—at the time when the several colleges were founded, and scholarships and fellowships endowed, by the pious and munificent of days gone by. These men saw and felt the want of something more immediately necessary than science itself; and it is no imputation on their judgment or their charity—on their heads or their hearts—that they provided, in the first place, and by due preference, “for their own.” Had they not done so, they would have been “worse than the infidel” of modern times, who endows no institution for the promotion of that science he affects to value as the favourite of Liberals, and the one thing “useful.”

(129.) The innumerable objects composing the animal world, may be compared to the isolated facts of all physical sciences. For unless they are arranged and digested under proper heads, no general conclusions from them can be drawn. No sooner, therefore, has the naturalist become acquainted with the forms of the objects he studies, than he proceeds to arrange them according to their agreements and disagreements. He first places them in primary groups, as an entomologist would separate the beetles from the butterflies; and these, from the bees and the flies: from each of these, again, he proceeds to make other divisions; separating the butterflies which fly by day, from those which are nocturnal, and so on. This is arrangement or classification; from which all systems or methods originate. Now, it is obvious, that if we are not guided in this proceeding by some general rules known to be universally applicable, every one may consider himself qualified to follow his own impressions, and to make that arrangement which he thinks best. Hence have originated the innumerable systems and methods which have been, and are still, in use. One writer attaches a primary importance to particular characters, which another undervalues; a third rejects both these, and founds his system upon certain points of structure on which his predecessors have placed no value; a fourth, disregarding all outward organisation, builds his method upon internal anatomy.

(41.) Could we suppose man had never known evil, – that he had continued, as at first created, a terrestrial, yet an immaculate being, alike a stranger to the bad passions and the inordinate desires that now agitate him, – what pursuits, may we suppose, would occupy his time? or upon what subjects would he exercise those powers of reason by which he is united to the spiritual world? The answer is obvious. The works of God, as manifested in all visible nature, would be his only study. Surrounded by innumerable objects attractive by their beauty, wonderful by their construction, or interesting by their economy, his days would be spent in surveying the material world; – his heart enlarged, and his reason exercised, in meditating on all that he saw. Every new discovery would increase his veneration for the Divine Author of such wonders; and although placed upon earth, his contemplations would be those of the inhabitants of heaven. Such is the reply suggested by reason, to our previous question; and such, does inspiration assure us, was the occupation of the parent of mankind. “And Adam gave names to all cattle, and to the fowls of the air, and to every beast of the field.” It is fit that the study of nature should be coëval with the creation of man. Though his spirit has been changed, – though care and trouble, those thorns and thistles of his present state, entangle and distract him, and he is called to the discharge of moral and social duties,–yet this remnant of primeval happiness is still left to him.

(295.) We have enlarged, in the preceding chapter, upon those means possessed by the government and the universities for giving a new impulse to the science of Britain; because no renovation can be complete and effective, which does not commence from these sources. The organisation of our scientific societies, however, is a subject of some moment; because, unless we ourselves evince a disposition for improvement, we cannot expect assistance from higher quarters. To expose defects, and to animadvert upon the proceedings of such institutions, is at all times an ungracious task; yet experience has shown, that it is most necessary. Imperfection attaches to every thing human; and we are most ignorant of that imperfection, in proportion as we turn away from advice, and disregard the opinions of others. Now, where there is a disposition in the majority to think correctly and to act wisely, we are more disposed to treat with indulgence existing defects, than to expatiate upon their universal prevalence; preferring, at all times, dispassionate reason to bitter declamation and general sarcasm. We, therefore, leave to others the exposition of existing or assumed abuses; contenting ourselves with touching only upon those points which regard the well-being of our respective societies, which are most conducive to effect the objects they have in view, and which are sanctioned both by reason and experience.

(191.) We have already explained, and familiarly illustrated, the two sorts of relations which natural objects bear to each other, and which are distinguished by the terms Analogy and Affinity. The prevalence of these relations is so universal throughout nature, that there is no group of beings, however small, which does not present them. Nay, we question not that every individual species has its analogies, as it certainly must have its affinities. In a future volume we propose to enquire more particularly into these relations, and to bring forward such instances of their prevalence, as to sanction the hypothesis that they are uniform, constant, and universal in every part of the animal creation. In regard to affinities, indeed, this truth is self-evident; because, whatever forms part of a series, must of necessity have affinities, and these must be of different degrees. But, in regard to analogy, the case is different, and calls for a much more extended enquiry. On the present occasion, however, we shall merely consider those arguments which may be used, à priori, in favour of the supposition that analogies are, in the most comprehensive sense of the word, universal; and that they consequently assume an importance of the highest order when applied to illustrate, and to confirm, any theory on the variation of animal structure.

(192.) In the first place, it is unnecessary to enforce the axiom long established by sound philosophy, that natural and moral truths are but parts of the great system of nature.

(238.) The facts detailed in the last chapter being admitted, because they are notoriously undeniable, we come then to the following questions: — 1. Is such a state of things peculiar to England, or common to other nations? 2. Does abstract science, more particularly zoology, stand in need of any peculiar or national encouragement? and, 3. What are the causes which operate to its neglect? By discussing these questions impartially and dispassionately, we shall then be prepared to form a sound opinion, whether science, among us, is in a healthy state; and whether, in truth, it is advancing, quiescent, or retrograding. On a subject in every way so important and interesting, we have much fear, after the able manner in which it has already been treated, of not doing justice to the cause we advocate. But the general sense of any body of men can only be gathered from the expression of individual opinions; and although some of these will be more eloquent, and the reasons assigned more convincing, than others; yet, if they advocate the same general principles, and concur in the same sentiments, the reiterations of the weaker will give confirmation to the arguments of the more powerful advocate; and if several of these, taking up different departments of science, — each in their own walk, — arrive by different inferences at the same conclusions, we may safely believe that there is much of truth in the result.

(93.) It has been truly and forcibly urged, that the dismissal of prejudice is absolutely essential to the prosecution of science: and we may add, that if there be any branch of physical knowledge which more especially calls for this dismissal; or whose progress, more than that of any other, has been impeded by prejudice; it is that of natural history. We allude more especially to prejudices of opinion; since those of sense, however they may arise in other sciences, are subordinate to this. Natural history is a science of facts and of inferences. The former regard structure and economy; and as these, under favourable circumstances, can be investigated by every one, few prejudices of sense can arise respecting them. But when we proceed further, and attempt, from these facts, to draw inferences, the case is different. No principles having been yet established, by which the facts we know from experience can be generalised in such a way as to establish their mutual relation and dependence. Every naturalist therefore thinks he is at liberty to draw his own inferences, and to apply them to the systematic arrangement of the objects by which they are furnished. One, for instance, arguing from the flight of the bat, looks on it as that animal which constitutes the true passage from quadrupeds to birds. Another, looking to its general aspect, is disposed to place it among the mice, fortified by the general name given by the French to the whole tribe of chauve souris.