the brain; and we know also that, even in these, consciousness ceases when those nerves are severed. By this the difference between all that is conscious and unconscious and together with it the difference between all that is voluntary and involuntary in the movements of the body is perfectly explained, and no reason remains for assuming two entirely different primary sources of movement: especially as _principia præter necessitatem non sunt multiplicanda_. All this is so obvious, that, on impartial reflection from this standpoint, it seems almost absurd to persist in making the body serve two masters by deriving its actions from two radically different origins and then ascribing on the one hand the movements of our arms and legs, of our eyes, lips, throat, tongue and lungs, of the facial and abdominal muscles, to the will; while on the other hand the action of the heart, the movements of the veins, the peristaltic movements of the intestines, the absorption by the intestinal villi and glands and all those movements which accompany secretion, are supposed to proceed from a totally different, ever mysterious principle of which we have no knowledge, and which is designated by names such as vitality, archeus, _spiritus animales_, vital energy, instinct, all of which mean no more than _x_.[201] [201] It is especially in secretive processes that we cannot avoid recognising a certain selection of the materials fitted for each purpose, consequently a _free will_ in the secretive organs, which must even be assisted by a certain dull sensation, and in virtue of which each secreting organ only extracts from the same blood that particular secretion which suits it and no others: for instance, the liver only absorbs bile from the blood flowing through it, sending the rest of the blood on, and likewise the salivary glands and the pancreas only secrete saliva, the kidneys only urine, &c.
&c. We may therefore compare the organs of secretion to different kinds of cattle grazing on one and the same pasture-land, each of which only browses upon the one sort of herb which suits its own particular appetite. [Add. to 3rd ed.]
It is curious and instructive to see the trouble that excellent writer, Treviranus[202] takes, to find out in the lower animals, such as _infusoria_ and _zoophyta_, which movements are voluntary, and which are what he calls automatic or physical, _i.e._ merely vital. He founds his inquiry upon the assumption that he has to do with two primarily different sources of movement; whereas in truth they all proceed from the will, and the whole difference consists in their being occasioned by stimuli or by motives, _i.e._ in their having a brain for their medium or not; and the stimulus may again be merely interior or exterior. In several animals of a higher order--crustaceans and even fishes--he finds that the voluntary and vital movements, for instance locomotion and respiration, entirely coincide: a clear proof that their origin and essence are identical. He says p. 188: "In the family of the pedata Cuv._), it is evident that the movement of the fluids depends upon the will of the animals and that it is a means of locomotion."
Then again p. 288: "The gullet of mammals has at its upper end the pharynx, which expands and contracts by means of muscles resembling voluntary muscles in their formation, yet which do not obey the will."
Here we see how the limits of the movements proceeding from the will and of those assumed to be foreign to it, merge into one another.
_Ibid._, p. 293: "Thus movements having all the appearance of being voluntary, take place in the stomachs of ruminants. They do not however always stand in connection with the ruminating process only. Even the simpler human stomach and that of many animals only allows free passage to what is digestible through its lower orifice, and rejects what is indigestible by vomiting."
[202] Treviranus, "Die Erscheinungen und Gesetze des Organischen Lebens," vol. i. pp. 178-185.
There is moreover special evidence that the movements induced by stimuli (involuntary movements) proceed from the will just as well as those occasioned by motives (voluntary movements): for instance, when the same movement follows now upon a stimulus, now again upon a motive, as is the case when the pupil of the eye is contracted. This movement, when caused by increased light, follows upon a stimulus; whereas, when occasioned by the wish to examine a very small object minutely in close proximity, it follows upon a motive; because contracting the pupil enables us to see things distinctly even when quite near to us, and this distinctness may be increased by our looking through a hole pierced in a card with a pin; conversely, the pupil is dilated when we look at distant objects. Surely the same movement of the same organ is not likely to proceed alternately from two fundamentally different sources.--E. H. Weber[203] relates that he discovered in himself the power of dilating and contracting at will the pupil of one of his eyes, while looking at the same object, so as to make that object appear now distinct, now indistinct, while the other eye remained closed.--Joh.
Müller[204] also tries to prove that the will acts upon the pupil.
[203] E. H. Weber, "Additamenta ad E. H. Weberi tractatum de motu iridis." Lipsia, 1823.
[204] Joh. Müller, "Handbuch der Physiologie," p. 764.
The truth that the innermost mainspring of unconsciously performed vital and vegetative functions is the will, we find moreover confirmed by the consideration, that even the movement of a limb recognised as voluntary, is only the ultimate result of a multitude of preceding changes which have taken place inside that limb and which no more enter into our consciousness than those organic functions. Yet these changes are evidently that which was first set in motion by the will, the movement of the limb being merely their remote consequence; nevertheless this remains so foreign to our consciousness that physiologists try to reach it by means of such hypotheses as these: that the sinews and muscular fibre are contracted by a change in the cellular tissue wrought by a precipitation of the blood-vapour in that tissue to serum; but that this change is brought about by the nerve's action, and this--by _the will_. Thus, even here, it is not the change which proceeded originally from the will which comes into consciousness, but only its remote result; and even this, properly speaking, only through the special perception of the brain in which it presents itself together with the whole organism. Now by following the path of experimental research and hypotheses physiologists would never have arrived at the truth, that the last link in this ascending causal series is _the will_; it is known to them, on the contrary, in quite a different way. The solution of the enigma comes to them in a whisper from outside the investigation, owing to the fortunate circumstance that the investigator is in this case at the same time himself the object of the investigation and by this learns the secret of the inward process, his explanation of which would otherwise, like that of every other phenomenon, be brought to a standstill by an inscrutable force.
And conversely, if we stood in the same inward relation towards every natural phenomenon as towards our own organism, the explanation of every natural phenomenon, as well as of all the properties of every body, would likewise ultimately be reduced to a will manifesting itself in them. For the difference does not reside in the thing itself, but in our relation to the thing. Wherever explanation of the physical comes to an end, it is met by the metaphysical; and wherever this last is accessible to immediate knowledge, the result will be, as here, the will. That even those parts of the body whose movements do not proceed from the brain, do not follow upon motives, and are not voluntary, are nevertheless ruled and animated by the will, is also shown by their participation in all unusually violent movements of the will, _i.e._ emotions and passions. We see, for instance, the quickened pulse in joy or alarm, the blush in embarrassment, the cheek's pallor in terror or in suppressed anger, the tears of sorrow, the difficult breathing and increased activity of the intestines in terror, watering of the mouth at the sight of dainties, nausea occasioned by that of loathsome objects, strongly accelerated circulation of the blood and even altered quality of bile through wrath, and of saliva through violent rage: this last even to the degree, that an excessively irritated dog may communicate hydrophobia by its bite without being itself affected with rabies, or even then contracting the disease--and the same is also asserted of cats and of cocks. The organism is further deeply undermined by lasting grief, and may be mortally affected by fright as well as by sudden joy. On the other hand, all those inner processes and changes which only have to do with the intellect and do not concern the will, however great may be their importance, remain without influence upon the machinery of the organism, with the one exception, that mental activity, prolonged to excess, fatigues and gradually exhausts the brain and finally undermines the organism. This again confirms the fact that the intellect is of a secondary character, and merely the organic function of a single part, a product of life; not the innermost kernel of our being, not the thing in itself, not metaphysical, incorporeal, eternal, like the will: the will never tires, never grows old, never learns, never improves by practice, is in infancy what it is in old age, eternally one and the same, and its character in each individual is unchangeable. Being essential moreover, it is likewise immutable, and therefore exists in animals as it does in us; for it does not, like the intellect, depend upon the perfection of the organization, but is in every essential respect in all animals the same thing which we know so intimately. Accordingly animals have all the feelings which belong to man: joy, grief, fear, anger, love, hate, desire, envy, &c.
&c. The great difference between man and the brute creation consists exclusively in the degrees of perfection of the intellect. This however is leading us too far from our subject, so I refer my readers to my chief work, vol. ii. chap. 19, _sub._ 2.
After the cogent reasons just given in favour of the primary _agens_ in the inward machinery of the organism being the very same will which rules the outward actions of the body and only reveals itself as the will in this passage through consciousness because here it needs the mediation of outwardly directed knowledge, we shall not be astonished to find that other physiologists besides Brandis had, by means of strictly empirical research, also recognised this truth more or less clearly. Meckel,[205] in his "Archiv für die Physiologie," arrives quite empirically and impartially at the conclusion, that vegetative existence [in animals], the first growth of the embryo, the assimilation of nourishment and plant-life, ought properly to be considered as manifestations of the will, nay, that even the inclination of the magnetic needle seems to be something of the same kind. "The assumption," he says, "of a certain free will in every vital movement may perhaps be justified." "Plants appear to seek light voluntarily," &c. &c. This book is dated 1819 just after the appearance of my work; and as, to say the least, it is doubtful whether it had any influence upon him or whether he was even aware of its existence, I class these utterances among the independent empirical confirmations of my doctrine. Burdach also,[206] in his great work on Physiology, arrives by a completely empirical road at the conclusion, that "self-love is a force belonging to all things indiscriminately."
He points it out, first in animals, then in plants, and lastly in inanimate bodies. But what is self-love after all, if not the will to preserve our existence, the will to live? Under the heading "Comparative Anatomy," I shall quote a passage from the same book, which confirms my view still more decidedly. That the doctrine, which teaches that the will is the vital principle, has begun to spread even to the wider circles of medical science and to meet with a favourable reception from its younger representatives, I notice with particular pleasure in the theses sustained by Dr. Von Sigriz on taking his degree at Munich (August, 1835), which commence as follows: 1. _Sanguis est determinans formam organismi se evolventis._ 2. _Evolutio organica determinatur vitæ internæ actione et_ voluntate.
Lastly, a very remarkable and unexpected corroboration of this part of my doctrine has to be mentioned, which has recently been communicated from ancient Hindoo philosophy by Colebrook. In his exposition of the philosophical schools of the Hindoos,[207] he quotes the following as the doctrine of the Nyaga school: "Volition, Yatna, effort or manifestation of the Will, is a self-determination to act which gives satisfaction. Desire is its occasion, perception its motive. Two kinds of perceptible effort of the will are distinguished: that which springs from desire which seeks the agreeable, and that which springs from aversion which shuns the repulsive. Another species, which escapes sensation and perception, but is inferred from analogy of spontaneous acts, comprises animal functions, having for a cause the vital, unseen power." Here the words "animal functions" are evidently used, not in a physiological, but in a popular sense: so that here organic life is unquestionably derived from the will. We find a similar statement in Colebrook's Report on the Vedas[208] where he says: "_Asu is unconscious volition_, which occasions an act necessary to the support of life, as breathing, &c."
[207] "Transactions of the Asiatic Society of Great Britain," 1824, p. 110.
Moreover my reduction of vital energy to the will by no means interferes with the old division of its functions into reproductive force, irritability and sensibility. This division remains a deep view of their difference, and gives occasion for interesting observations.
_The faculty of reproduction_, objectified in the cellular tissue of plants, constitutes the chief characteristic of plants and the vegetative element in Man. Where we find it predominant to excess in human beings, we assume them to be phlegmatic, dull, indolent, obtuse (Bœotians); though this assumption does not always meet with confirmation. _Irritability_, objectified in the muscular tissue, constitutes the chief characteristic of Animals and the animal element in Man. Where it predominates to excess, dexterity, strength, bravery, that is, fitness for bodily exertion and for war, is usually to be found (Spartans). Nearly all warm-blooded animals and even insects far surpass Man in irritability. It is by irritability that animals are most vividly conscious of their existence; wherefore they exult in manifesting it. There is even still a trace of that exultation perceptible in Man, in dancing. _Sensibility_, objectified in the nerves, is Man's chief characteristic, and constitutes what is properly human in him. In this no animal can in the remotest degree compare with Man. Where it predominates to excess, it produces _genius_ (Athenians). Accordingly a man of genius is in a higher degree a _man_.
This explains why some men of genius have been unwilling to recognise other men, with their monotonous physiognomies and universal stamp of commonplace mediocrity, as human beings: for in them they did not find their equals and naturally came to the erroneous conclusion that their own was the normal standard. Diogenes sought for men with a lantern in this sense;--in that work of genius, the Koheleth (Ecclesiastes) it is said:[209] "_One_ man among a thousand have I found, but one woman among all those have I not found;" and Gracian in his Criticon--perhaps the grandest and most beautiful allegory ever written--says: "But what was strangest of all, in the whole country, even in the most populous cities, they did not meet with a single _man_; on the contrary these cities were inhabited by lions, tigers, leopards, wolves, foxes, apes, oxen, asses, pigs,--nowhere was there a man! They only made out after a time that the few existing human beings, in order to hide themselves and not to witness what was going on, had retired to those desert places which ought to have been the dwellings of wild beasts." The same reason indeed accounts for the peculiar inclination of all men of genius for solitude, to which they are driven by their difference from the rest, and for which their own inner wealth qualifies them. For, with humanity it is as with diamonds, the extraordinarily great ones alone are fitted to be _solitaires_, while those of ordinary size have to be set in clusters to produce any effect.
Even the three _Gunas_, or fundamental qualities of the Hindoos, tally with the three physiological fundamental forces. _Tamas-Guna_, obtuseness, stupidity, corresponds to reproductive power; _Rajas-Guna_, passionateness, to irritability; and _Sattwa-Guna_, wisdom and virtue, to sensibility. When however they add to this, that Tamas-Guna is the fate of animals, Rajas-Guna the fate of man, and Sattwa-Guna that of the Gods, this is to be taken in a mythological, rather than physiological sense.
In Chapter 20th of the 2nd Vol. of my chief work entitled "Objectification of the Will in the Animal Organism," I have likewise treated the argument of the present chapter; therefore I advise my readers to read it after this, as a complement to what is here given.[210] [210] In my "Parerga," § 94 of the 2nd vol. (§ 96 in the 2nd edition) belongs also to the above.
I may observe, that the passages I have quoted from pp. 14 and 15 of my Essay on Colours, refer to the first edition.
COMPARATIVE ANATOMY.
Now, from my proposition: that the Will is what Kant calls the "thing in itself"[211] or the ultimate substratum of every phenomenon, I had however not only deduced that the will is the agent in all inner, unconscious functions of the body, but also that the organism itself is nothing but the will which has entered the region of representation, the will itself, perceived in the cognitive form of Space. I had accordingly said that, just as each single momentary act of willing presents itself at once directly and infallibly in the outer perception of the body as one of its actions, so also must the collective volition of each animal, the totality[212] of its efforts, be faithfully portrayed in its whole body, in the constitution of its organism; and that the means supplied by its organisation for attaining the aims of its will must as a whole exactly correspond to those aims--in short, that the same relation must exist between the whole character of its volition and the shape and nature of its body, as between each single act of its will and the single bodily action which carries it out. Even this too has recently been recognised as a fact, and accordingly been confirmed _à posteriori_, by thoughtful zootomists and physiologists from their own point of view and independently of my doctrine: their judgments on this point make Nature testify even here to the truth of my theory.
[212] _Inbegriff._ In Pander and d'Alton's admirable illustrated work[213] we find: "Just as all that is characteristic in the formation of bones springs from the _character_ of the animals, so does that character, on the other hand, develop out of their _tendencies and desires_. These _tendencies and desires_ of animals, which are _so vividly expressed_ in their whole organisation and of which that organisation only appears to be the medium, cannot be explained by special primary forces, since we can only deduce their inner reason from the general life of Nature."
By this last turn the author shows indeed that he has arrived at the point where, like all other investigators of Nature, he is brought to a standstill by the metaphysical; but he also shows, that up to this point beyond which Nature eludes investigation, _tendencies and desires_ (_i.e._ will) were the utmost thing knowable. The shortest expression for his last conclusion about animals would be "As they will, so they are."
[213] Pander and d'Alton, "Ueber die Skelette der Raubthiere," 1822, p. 7.
The learned and thoughtful Burdach,[214] when treating of the ultimate reason of the genesis of the embryo in his great work on Physiology, bears witness no less explicitly to the truth of my view. I must not, unfortunately, conceal the fact that in a weak moment, misled Heaven knows by what or how, this otherwise excellent man brings in just here a few sentences taken from that utterly worthless, tyrannically imposed pseudo-philosophy, about 'thought' being what is primary (it is just what is last and most conditioned of all) yet 'no representation' (that is to say, a wooden iron). Immediately after however, under the returning influence of his own better self, he proclaims the real truth (p. 710): "The brain curves itself outwards to the retina, because the central part of the embryo _desires_ to take in the impressions of the activity of the world; the mucous membrane of the intestinal canal develops into the lung, because the organic body _desires_ to enter into relation with the elementary substances of the universe; organs of generation spring from the vascular system, because the individual only lives in the species, and because the life which has commenced in the individual _desires_ to multiply." This assertion of Burdach's, which so entirely agrees with my doctrine, reminds me of a passage in the ancient Mahabharata, which it is really difficult not to regard as a mythical version of the same truth. It is in the third Canto of "Sundas and Upasunda" in Bopp's "Ardschuna's Reise zu Indra's Himmel"[215] (1824); Brahma has just created Tilottama, the fairest of women, who is walking round the circle of the assembled gods. Shiva conceives so violent a longing to gaze at her as she turns successively round the circle, that four faces arise in him according to her different positions, that is, according to the four cardinal points. This may account for Shiva being represented with five heads, as Pansh Mukhti Shiva. Countless eyes arise on every part of Indra's body likewise on the same occasion.[216] In fact, every organ must be looked upon as the expression of a universal manifestation of the will, _i.e._ of one made once for all, of a fixed longing, of an act of volition proceeding, not from the individual, but from the species. Every animal form is a longing of the will to live which is roused by circumstances; for instance, the will is seized with a longing to live on trees, to hang on their branches, to devour their leaves, without contention with other animals and without ever touching the ground: this longing presents itself throughout endless time in the form (or Platonic Idea) of the sloth. It can hardly walk at all, being only adapted for climbing; helpless on the ground, it is agile on trees and looks itself like a moss-clad bough in order to escape the notice of its pursuers.
But now let us consider the matter from a somewhat more methodical and less poetical point of view.
[215] Bopp, "Ardschuna's Reise zu Indra's Himmel, nebst anderen Episoden des Mahabharata" (Ardshuna's Journey to Indra's Heaven together with other episodes from the Mahabharata), 1824.
[216] The Matsya Parana attributes a similar origin to Brahma's four countenances. It relates that, having fallen in love with his daughter Satarupa, and gazed fixedly at her, she stepped aside to avoid his eye; he being ashamed, would not follow her movement; whereupon a new face arose on him directed towards the side where she was and, on her once more moving, the same thing occurred, and was repeated, until at last he had four faces. ("Asiatic Researches," vol. 6, p. 473.) [Add. to 3rd ed.]
The manifest adaptation of each animal for its mode of life and outward means of subsistence, even down to the smallest detail, together with the exceeding perfection of its organisation, form abundant material for teleological contemplation, which has always been a favourite occupation of the human mind, and which, extended even to inanimate Nature, has become the argument of the Physico-theological Proof.
The universal fitness for their ends, the obviously intentional design in all the parts of the organism of the lower animals without exception, proclaim too distinctly for it ever to have been seriously questioned, that here no forces of Nature acting by chance and without plan have been at work, but a will. Now, that a will should act otherwise than under the guidance of knowledge was inconceivable, according to empirical science and views. For, up to my time, as has been shown in the last chapter, _will_ and _intellect_ had been regarded as absolutely inseparable, nay, the will was looked upon as a mere operation of the intellect, that presumptive basis of all that is spiritual. Accordingly wherever the will acted, knowledge must have been its guide; consequently it must have been its guide here also. But the mediation of knowledge, which, as such, is exclusively directed towards the outside, brings with it, that a will acting by means of it, can only act outwardly, that is, only from _one_ being upon _another_. Therefore the will, of which unmistakable traces had been found, was not sought for where these were discovered, but was removed to the outside, and the animal became the product of a will foreign to it, guided by knowledge, which must have been very clear knowledge indeed, nay, the deeply excogitated conception of a purpose; and this purpose must have preceded the animal's existence, and, together with the will, whose product the animal is, have lain outside that animal. According to this, the animal would have existed in representation before existing in reality. This is the basis of the train of thought on which the Physico-theological Proof is founded. But this proof is no mere scholastic sophism, like the Ontological Proof: nor does it contain an untiring natural opponent within itself, like the Cosmological Proof, in that very same law of causality to which it owes its existence. On the contrary, it is, in reality, for the educated, what the Keraunological Proof[217] is for the vulgar,[218] and its plausibility is so great, so potent, that the most eminent and at the same time least prejudiced minds have been deeply entangled in it. Voltaire, for instance, who, after all sorts of other doubts, always comes back to it, sees no possibility of getting over it and even places its evidence almost on a level with that of a mathematical demonstration. Even Priestley too declares it to be irrefutable.[219] Hume's reflection and acumen alone stood the test, even in this case; in his "Dialogues on Natural Religion,"[220] which are so well worth reading, this true precursor of Kant calls attention to the fact, that there is no resemblance at all between the works of Nature and those of an Art which proceeds according to a design. Now it is precisely where he cuts asunder the _nervus probandi_ of this extremely insidious proof, as well as that of the two others--in his Critique of Judgment and in his Critique of Pure Reason--that Kant's merit shines most brilliantly. A very brief summary of this Kantian refutation of the Physico-theological Proof may be found in my chief work.[221] Kant has earned for himself great merit by it; for nothing stands so much in the way of a correct insight into Nature and into the essence of things as this view, by which they are looked upon as having been made according to a preconceived plan. Therefore, if a Duke of Bridgewater offers a prize of high value for the confirmation and perpetuation of such fundamental errors, let it be our task, following in the footsteps of Hume and Kant, to work undauntedly at their destruction, without any other reward than truth. Truth deserves respect: not what is opposed to it. Nevertheless here, as elsewhere, Kant has confined himself to negation; but a negation only takes full effect when it has been completed by a correct affirmation, this alone giving entire satisfaction and in itself dislodging and superseding error, according to the words of Spinoza: _Sicut lux se ipsa et tenebras manifestat, sic veritas norma sui et falsi est_. First of all therefore we say: the world is not made with the help of knowledge, consequently also not from the outside, but from the inside; and next we endeavour to point out the _punctum saliens_[222] of the world-egg.
The physico-theological thought, that Nature must have been regulated and fashioned by an intellect, however well it may suit the untutored mind, is nevertheless fundamentally wrong. For the intellect is only known to us in animal nature, consequently as an absolutely secondary and subordinate principle in the world, a product of the latest origin; it can never therefore have been the condition of the existence of that world.[223] Now the will on the contrary, being that which fills every thing and manifests itself immediately in each--thus showing each thing to be its phenomenon--appears everywhere as that which is primary.
It is just for this reason, that the explanation of all teleological facts is to be found in the will of the being itself in which they are observed.
[217] I should like under this name to add a fourth to the three proofs brought forward by Kant, _i.e._ the proof _a terrore_, which the ancient saying of Petronius: _primus in orbe Deos fecit timor_, designates and of which Hume's incomparable "Natural History of Religion" may be considered as the critique. Understood in this sense, even the theologist Schleiermacher's attempted proof might have its truth from the feeling of dependence, though perhaps not exactly that truth which its originator imagined it to have.
[218] Socrates propounded it already in detail in Xenophon. ("Mem."
i. 4.) [Add. to 3rd ed.]
[219] Priestley, "Disqu. on Matter and Spirit," sect. 16, p. 188.
[220] Part 7, and in other places.
of the 3rd ed.)
[222] The point at which the life-spark is kindled. [Tr.]
sensibilis_; since it receives its material from the latter alone.
It is not an intellect which has brought forth Nature; it is, on the contrary, Nature which has brought forth the intellect. [Add.
to 3rd ed.]
Besides, the Physico-theological Proof may be simply invalidated by the empirical observation, that works produced by animal instinct, such as the spider's web, the bee's honeycomb and its cells, the white ant's constructions, &c. &c., are throughout constituted as if they were the result of an intentional conception, of a wide-reaching providence and of rational deliberation; whereas they are evidently the work of a blind impulse, _i.e._ of a will not guided by knowledge. From this it follows, that the conclusion from such and such a nature to such and such a mode of coming into being, has not the same certainty as the conclusion from a consequent to its reason, which is in all cases a sure one. I have devoted the twenty-seventh chapter of the second volume of my chief work to a detailed consideration of the mechanical instincts of animals, which may be used, together with the preceding one on Teleology, to complete the whole examination of this subject in the present chapter.
Now, if we enter more closely into the above-mentioned fitness of every animal's organisation for its mode of life and means of subsistence, the question that first presents itself is, whether that mode of life has been adapted to the organisation, or _vice versa_. At first sight, the former assumption would seem to be the more correct one; since, in Time, the organisation precedes the mode of life, and the animal is thought to have adopted the mode of existence for which its structure was best suited, making the best use of the organs it found within itself: thus, for instance, we think that the bird flies because it has wings, and that the ox butts because it has horns; not conversely. This view is shared by Lucretius, (always an ominous sign for an opinion): "Nil ideo quoniam natum est in corpore, ut uti Possemus; sed, quod natum est, id procreat usum."[224] [224] This is expanded, vol. iv. pp. 825-843.
Only this assumption does not explain how, collectively, the quite different parts of an animal's organism so exactly correspond to its way of life; how no organ interferes with another, each rather assisting the others and none remaining unemployed; also that no subordinate organ would be better suited to another mode of existence, while the life which the animal really leads is determined by the principal organs alone, but, on the contrary, each part of the animal not only corresponds to every other part, but also to its mode of life: its claws, for instance, are invariably adapted for seizing the prey which its teeth are suited to tear and break, and its intestinal canal to digest: its limbs are constructed to convey it where that prey is to be found, and no organ ever remains unemployed. The ant-bear, for instance, is not only armed with long claws on its fore-feet, in order to break into the nests of the white ant, but also with a prolonged cylindrical muzzle, in order to penetrate into them, with a small mouth and a long, threadlike tongue, covered with a glutinous slime, which it inserts into the white ants' nests and then withdraws covered with the insects that adhere to it: on the other hand it has no teeth, because it does not want them. Who can fail to see that the ant-bear's form stands in the same relation to the white ants, as an act of the will to its motive? The contradiction between the powerful fore-feet and long, strong, curved claws of the ant-bear and its complete lack of teeth, is at the same time so extraordinary, that if the earth ever undergoes a fresh transformation, the newly arising race of rational beings will find it an insoluble enigma, if white ants are unknown to them. The necks of birds, as of quadrupeds, are generally as long as their legs, to enable them to reach down to the ground where they pick up their food; but those of aquatic birds are often a good deal longer, because they have to fetch up their nourishment from under the water while swimming.[225] Moor-fowl have exceedingly long legs, to enable them to wade without drowning or wetting their bodies, and a correspondingly