Aug. 20, 1874] 



NATURE 



319 



drance to science ; but he means the enthusiasm of weak heads. 

 There is a strong and resolute entluisiasm in which science finds 

 an ally ; and it is to the lowering of this fire, rather than to a 

 diminution of intellectual insight, that tlie lessening productive- 

 ness of men of science in their mature years is to be ascribed. 

 Mr. Buckle sought to detach intellectual achievement from 

 moral force. He gravely erred ; for ^\ithout moral force to whip 

 it into action, the achievements of the intellect would be poor 

 indeed. 



It has been said that science divorces itself lirom literature: 

 The statement, like so many others, arises from lack of knowledge. 

 A gLmce at the less technical writings of its leaders — of its 

 Hehmholtz, its Huxley, and its Du Bois-Reymond — would show 

 what breadth of literary culture they command. Where among 

 modern writers can you find their superiois in clearness and 

 vigour of literary style ? Science desires no isolation, but freely 

 combines with every effort towards the bettering of man's estate. 

 Single-handed, and sup]5orted not by outward sympathy, but by 

 inward force, it has built at least one great wing of the many- 

 mansioned home which man in his totality demands. And if 

 rough walls and protruding rafter-ends indicate that on one side 

 the edifice is still incomplete, it is only by wise combmation of 

 the parts required with those already irrevocably built that we 

 can hope for completeness. There is no necessary incongraity 

 between what has been accomplished and what remains to be 

 done. The moral glow of Socrates, which we all feel by ignition, 

 has in it nothing incompatible with tlie physics of Anaxagoras 

 which he so much scorned, but whicli he would hardly scorn 

 to-day. And here I am reminded of one amongst us, hoary, 

 but still strong, whose prophet-voice some thirty years ago, far 

 more than any other of this age, unlocked whatever of life and 

 nobltness lay latent in its most gifted minds — one fit to stand 

 beside Socrates or the Maccabean Eleazar, and to dare and suffer 

 all that they suffered and dared — fit, as lie once said of Fichte, 

 "to have been the teacher of the Stoa, and to have discoursed 

 of beauty and virtue in the groves of Academe." With a 

 capacity to grasp physical principles which his friend Goethe did 

 not possess, and which even total lack of exercise has not been 

 able to reduce to atrophy, it is the world's loss that he, in the 

 vigour of his years, did not open his mind and sympathies to 

 science, and make its conclusions a portion of his message to 

 mankind. Marvellously endowed as he was — equally equipped 

 on the side of the heart and of the understanding — he might have 

 done much towards teaching us how to reconcile the claims of both, 

 and to enable them in coming times to dwell together in unity of 

 spirit and in the bond of peace. 



And now the end is come. With more time, or greater strength 

 and knowledge, what has been here said might have been better 

 said, wliile worthy matters here omitted might have received fit 

 expression. But there would have been no material deviation 

 from the views set forth. As regards myself, they are not the 

 growth of a day ; and as regards you, I thought you ought to 

 know the environment which, with or without your consent, is 

 rapidly surrounding you, and in relation to which some adjust- 

 'ment on your part may be necessary. A hint of Hamlet's, how- 

 ever, teaches us all how the troubles of common life may be 

 ended ; and it is perfectly possible for you and me to purchase 

 intellectual peace at the price of intellectual death. The world 

 is not without refuges of this description ; nor is it wanting in 

 persons who seek their shelter and tty to persuade others to do 

 the same. I would exhort you to refuse such shelter, and to scorn 

 such base repose — to accept, if the choice be forced upon you, 

 commotion before stagnation, the leap of the torrent before the 

 stillness of the swamp. In the one there is at all events lile, and 

 therefore hope ; in the other, none. I have touched on debat- 

 able questions, and led you over dangerous ground — and this 

 partly with the view of telling you, and through you the world, 

 that as regards these questions science claims unrestricted right 

 of search. It is not to the point to say that the views of 

 Lucretius and Bruno, of Darwin and Spencer, may be 

 wrong. Here I should agree with you, deeming it indeed cer- 

 tain that these views will undergo modification. But the point is, 

 tliat, whether right or wrong, we claim the freedom to discuss 

 them. The ground which they cover is scientific ground ; and 

 the right claimed is one made good through tribulation and 

 anguish, inflicted and endured in darker times than ours, but re- 

 sulting in the immortal victories which science has won for the 

 human race. I would set forth equally the inexorable ndvance 

 of man's understanding in the path of knowledge, and the un- 

 quenchable claims of his emotional nature which the undeislaml. 

 ing can never satisfy. The world emiiraces not only a Newton, 



but a Shakespeare— not only a Boyle, but a Raphael — not only a 

 Kant, but a Beethoven — not only a Darwin, but a Carlyle. Not 

 in each of these, but in all, is human nature whole. They are 

 not opposed, but supplementary — not mutually exclusive, but 

 reconcilable. And if, still unsatisfied, the human mind, with the 

 yearning of a pilgrim for his distant home, will turn to the 

 mystery from which it has emerged, seeking so to fashion it as to 

 give unity to thought and faith, so long as this is done, not only 

 without intolerance or bigotry of any kind, but with the enlight- 

 ened recognition that ultimate fixity of conception is here unat- 

 tainable, and that eacli succeeding age must be held free to 

 fashion the mystery in accordance with its own needs — then, in 

 opposition to all the restrictions of Materialism, I would affirm 

 this to be a field for the noblest exercise of what, in contrast 

 with the knozaing faculties, may be called the creative faculties of 

 man. Here, however, I must quit a theme too great for me to 

 handle, but which will be handled by the loftiest minds ages after 

 you and I, like streaks of morning cloud, shall have melted into 

 the infinite azure of the past. 



SECTION A 



Mathematical and Physical 



Opening Addres.s p.y the President, the Rev. Prof. 



J. H. Jellett, M.A., M.R.I.A. 



In opening the busmess of the Section, my first duty is, as 

 you will naturally anticipate, to return my warmest thanks to 

 the British Association for the honour which they have conferred 

 upon me by inviting me to occupy this chair. I do it, I assure 

 you, with all sincerity, fully sensible how high the compliment 

 is ; and if I do not dwsll further upon the subject, it is, as 

 I hope you will believe, because the president of a Section 

 ought to occupy your time, not by speaking of himself or his 

 own feelings, but by a review, more or less extensive, of those 

 branches of science which form the proper business of the 

 Section. 



I say " more or less extensive ;" for in determining what kind 

 of review he will present to you, the president of this Section has 

 a very wide range of choice. He may give you a rapid but (in 

 its outline) complete sketch of the progress of mathematical 

 science during the past year. He may select some one special 

 subject, probably (and rightly) the subject with which he is him- 

 self especially conversant, giving of that a more detailed account ; 

 or he may take a middle course, neither so extensive as the first 

 nor quite so limited as the second. It is this latter course which 

 I wish now to take, proposing to direct your attention, during 

 the short time which I can allow myself, to the relations, becom- 

 ing every day more fully developed, not only among the branches 

 of science which properly belong to us, but between our Section 

 and the other .Sections of the Association, or, tn other words, 

 between the sciences which we ordinarily call mathematical or 

 physical and some of the other sciences to which the British 

 Association is devoted. I am the more anxious to direct your 

 attention to this class of subjects, because recent investigation 

 has shown how fertile for discovery the " border land," if 1 may 

 so call it, between sciences hitherto considered distinct has been 

 found to be. Instances in proof of this will present themselves 

 as we go on ; some have no doubt suggested themselves to you 

 already. 



We are called, in ordinary language, the Mathematical Sec- 

 tion. The adjective must indeed be understood in a very wide 

 sense — too wide perhaps for strict propriety of language, if it be 

 meant to include every thing to which our labours here are 

 devoted; still the use of the term "mathematical" indicates, 

 and truly indicates, the preponderance which in this Section we 

 give to mathematics and to those sciences which are at present 

 capable of mathematical treatment ; and therefore the first ques- 

 tion which in the consideration of our present subject naturally 

 presents itself is, Does this list of sciences show any prospect of 

 increase ? Are we making, are we likely to make, an increased 

 use of mathematics as an instrument of physical investigation? 

 Are we trying to improve its use in those sciences which are 

 already recognised as belonging to its legitimate province ? Are 

 we trying to perfect the mathematical treatment of such sciences 

 as optics or electricity, which have been already brought under 

 the sway of mathematics? Are we trying to extend its sway by 

 bringing under it sciences (chemistry, for example, or biology) in 

 which as yet its power has licen but little felt? Or have we 

 come to the conclusion, to which some writers would lead us, 

 that we have already pushed the use of mathematics too far? 



