i84 ESSAYS OF A BIOLOGIST 



We have all heard the American definition of 

 life as ' one dam thing after another ' : it would 

 perhaps be more accurate to substitute some term 

 such as r elatedness for thing. 



When I was a small boy, my mother wrote down 

 in a little book a number of my infant doings and 

 childish sayings, the perusal of which I find an admir- 

 able corrective to any excessive moral or intellectual 

 conceit. What, for instance, is to be thought of a 

 scientist of whom the following incident is recorded, 

 even if the record refers to the age of four years ? 



I (for convenience one must assign the same 

 identity to oneself at different ages, although again 

 it is but a relative sameness that persists) — I had 

 made some particularly outrageous statement which 

 was easily proved false : to which proof, apparently 

 without compunction, I answered, ' Oh well, I 

 always ex^^^-erate when it 's a fine day. . . .' 



The converse of this I came across recently in a 

 solemn treatise of psychology : a small girl of five or 

 six, in the course of an ' essay ' in school, affirmed 

 that the sun was shining and the day was fine ; while 

 as a matter of fact it had been continuously overcast 

 and gloomy : on being pressed for a reason, she ex- 

 plained that she felt so happy that particular morning 

 that she had been sure it was a fine day. 



If the weather can affect one's statements of fact, 

 and one's emotions can affect the apparent course 

 of meteorological events, where is the line to be drawn ? 



