290 
or even that ‘‘ some of nature’s journeymen 
had made men, and made them not well’’; for 
the real question at issue, in each case, is how 
far the language is figurative. 
The context seems to show that Ward does 
not hold his words to be figurative, for he as- 
serts that not only man, but every living thing, 
has had an efficient and conscious part in its 
own production. 
“Call an organism a machine, if you will,’’ 
says he, ‘‘ but where is the mind that made it, 
and, I may add, that works it?’? And he an- 
swers this question by the statement—I., 294— 
that, while this mind is outside the dead ma- 
chine, it is inside the living machine or organ- 
ism and identical with it; for he contends that 
‘mind is always implicated in life,’’ or that, 
in other words, ‘‘a teleological factor, analo- 
gous to that of Lamarck, is operative and 
essential throughout all biological evolution.”’ 
The context shows that it is not simply as part 
of an intended system of nature, but as an active 
agent of efficient cause, that each living thing 
is said to take part in its own production, 
although it is not easy to reconcile the state- 
ment—I., 294—that the mind of the living 
thing is inside it with the declaration—IL., 127— 
that it is a ‘metaphysical travesty’ to assert 
that a mind can be inside a body. Clearly 
some of the author’s language is figurative, and 
the reader.must find out, as well as he can, 
what to take literally and what with a grain . 
of salt. However, since ‘‘ Natural selection 
works blindly upon promiscuous variation 
blindly produced,’’ it is, of course, inadequate 
as a basis for Ward’s idealism ; although the 
assertion, in the next sentence, that it is imme- 
terial for natural selection how variations are 
produced, seems to show that it may be the eye- 
sight of the process and not that of the product 
which is defective, if one is able to find any 
meaning in the statement that a process is blind. 
While admitting the existence of the selective 
process, Ward fails to find in it any efficiency, 
causality or agency, and the naturalist is more 
than ready to agree with him, for to him also 
selection is only a statement of fact and not an 
efficient cause. He, therefore, fails to see how it 
can be either blind or possessed of eye-sight. 
Ward, finding natural selection blind, believes 
SCIENCE. 
[N.S. Von. X. No. 244, 
that he finds for it a tov cr@ in the Lamarckian 
principle that ‘‘the production of a new organ 
in an animal body (or in a living body) results 
from a new want arising and continuing to be 
felt, and from the new movement which this 
want initiates and sustains,’’ while the natural- 
ist, if he be also a teleologist, finds the 70v o7a 
in his conviction that it is good to have lived. 
Ward, admitting selection but finding it blind, 
believes that its raw material must be supplied 
by a ‘teleological factor’ before it can ‘do’ 
anything. He, therefore, asserts that both a 
non-teleological factor—natural selection—and 
a teleological factor are concerned in the origin 
of species. He admits that the ‘‘ complete un- 
ravelling of the two sets of factors, teleological 
and non-teleological, so as clearly to exhibit 
their respective shares in any given form is 
probably an impossible task,’’ although we must 
ask, in this case, how he knows that there 
are two. ‘‘Not a few temples to the Deity 
founded on some impressive fact supposed to be 
safely beyond the reach of scientific explana- 
tion have,’’ he reminds us, ‘‘been overtaken and 
secularized by the unexpected extension of na- 
tural knowledge.”’ 
He says that if we understand mind as always 
implicated in life and operative and essential 
throughout all biological evolution ‘‘ we come 
upon two principles that lead us straight to the 
teleological factors of organic evolution.’’ One 
of these is the principle of self conservation; 
the other is the principle of subjective or hedonic 
selection. ‘‘These principles furnish natural 
selection with the 7ov 076 it seems to demand.’’ 
‘« By the principle of subjective selection spec- 
ial environments are singled out from the gen- 
eral environment common to all.’’ ‘‘Take the 
passengers on a coach going through some glen 
here in Scotland; in one sense the glen is the same 
for them all, their common environment for the 
time being. But one, an artist, will single out 
subjects to sketch ; another, anangler, will see 
likely pools for fish; the third, a geologist, will 
detect raised beaches, glacial striation, or 
perched blocks. Turn a miscellaneous lot of 
birds into the garden; a fly-catcher will at 
once be intent on the gnats, a bulfinch on 
the pease, a thrush on the worms and snails. 
Scatter a mixture of seeds evenly over a diversi- 
