instance, a vital actuality appears; whence, no one can tell. As the organism matures, a new germ is formed, which, as the parent stock decays, takes its place and becomes in like manner the parent of a successor. Thus even death is but the door to new forms of life. In the second instance, a body corporate appears, no less a vital actuality than the first; a social organism in which, notwithstanding ceaseless births and deaths, there is a living principle. For while individuals are born and die, families live; while families are born and die, species live; while species are born and die, organic being assumes new forms and features. Herein the all-pervading principle of life, while flitting, is nevertheless permanent, while transient is yet eternal. But above and independent of perpetual birth and death is this element of continuous growth, which, like a spirit, walks abroad and mingles in the affairs of men. "All our progress," says Emerson, "is an unfolding, like the vegetable bud. You have first an instinct; then an opinion, then a knowledge, as the plant has root bud and fruit."

Under favorable conditions, and up to a certain point, stocks improve; by a law of natural selection the strongest and fittest survive, while the ill-favored and deformed perish; under conditions unfavorable to development, stocks remain stationary or deteriorate. Paradoxically, so far as we know, organs and organisms are no more perfect now than in the beginning; animal instincts are no keener, nor are their habitudes essentially changed. No one denies that stocks improve, for such improvement is perceptible and permanent; many deny that organisms improve, for if there be improvement it is imperceptible, and has thus far escaped proof. But, however this may be, it is palpable that the mind, and not the body, is the instrument and object of the progressional impulse.

Man in the duality of his nature is brought under two distinct dominions; materially he is subject to the laws that govern matter, mentally to the laws that govern mind; physiologically he is perfectly made and non-progressive, psychologically he is embryonic and progressive. Between these internal and external forces, between moral and material activities there may be, in some instances, an apparent antagonism. The mind may be developed in excess and to the detriment of the body, and the body may be developed in excess and to the detriment of the mind.

The animal man is a bundle of organs, with instincts implanted that set them in motion; man intellectual is a bundle of sentiments, with an implanted soul that keeps them effervescent; mankind in the mass, society,—we see the fermentations, we mark the transitions; is there, then, a soul in aggregated humanity as there is in individual humanity?

The instincts of man's animality teach the organs to perform their functions as perfectly at the first as at the last; the instincts of man's intellectuality urge him on in an eternal race for something better, in which perfection is never attained nor attainable; in society, we see the constant growth, the higher and yet higher development; now in this ever-onward movement are there instincts which originate and govern action in the body social as in the body individual? Is not society a bundle of organs, with an implanted Soul of Progress, which moves mankind along in a resistless predetermined march?

Nations are born and die; they appear first in a state of infancy or savagism; many die in their childhood, some grow into manhood and rule for a time the destinies of the world; finally, by sudden extinction, or a lingering decrepitude, they disappear, and others take their place. But in this ceaseless coming and going there is somewhere a mysterious agency at work, making men better, wiser, nobler, whether they will or not. This improvement is not the effect of volition; the plant does not will to unfold, nor the immature animal to grow; neither can the world of human kind cease to advance in mind and in manners. Development is the inevitable incident of being. Nations, under normal conditions, can no more help advancing than they can throw themselves into a state of non-existence; than can the individual stop his corporeal growth, or shut out from the intellect every perception of knowledge, and become a living petrification. And in whatever pertains to intellectual man this fundamental principle is apparent. It underlies all moralities, governments, and religions, all industries, arts, and commerce; it is the mainspring of every action, the consequence of every cause; it is the great central idea toward which all things converge; it is the object of all efforts, the end of all successes; it absorbs all forces, and is the combined results of innumerable agencies, good and evil.

Before the theory of Dr von Martius and his followers, that the savage state is but a degeneration from something higher, can become tenable, the whole order of nature must be reversed. Races may deteriorate, civilized peoples relapse into barbarism, but such relapse cannot take place except under abnormal conditions. We cannot believe that any nation, once learning the use of iron would cast it away for stone. Driven from an iron-yielding land, the knowledge of iron might at last be forgotten, but its use would never be voluntarily relinquished. And so with any of the arts or inventions of man. Societies, like individuals, are born, mature, and decay; they grow old and die; they may pause in their progress, become diseased, and thereby lose their strength and retrograde, but they never turn around and grow backward or ungrow,—they could not if they would.

BRUTES CANNOT PROGRESS.

In the brute creation this element of progress is wanting. The bird builds its nest, the bee its cell, the beaver its dam, with no more skill or elaboration to-day, than did the bird or bee or beaver primeval. The instinct of animals does not with time become intellect; their comforts do not increase, their sphere of action does not enlarge. By domestication, stocks may be improved, but nowhere do we see animals uniting for mutual improvement, or creating for themselves an artificial existence. So in man, whose nature comprises both the animal and the intellectual, the physical organism neither perceptibly advances nor deteriorates. The features may, indeed, beam brighter from the light of a purer intellectuality cast upon them from within, but the hand, the eye, the heart, so far as we know, is no more perfect now than in the days of Adam.

As viewed by Mr Bagehot, the body of the accomplished man "becomes, by training, different from what it once was, and different from that of the rude man, becomes charged with stored virtue and acquired faculty which come away from it unconsciously." But the body of the accomplished man dies, and the son can in no wise inherit it, whereas the soul of his accomplishments does not die, but lives in the air, and becomes part of the vital breath of society. And, again, "power that has been laboriously acquired and stored up as statical in one generation" sometimes, says Maudsley, "becomes the inborn faculty of the next; and the development takes place in accordance with that law of increasing speciality and complexity of adaption to external nature which is traceable through the animal kingdom; or, in other words, that law of progress, from the general to the special, in development, which the appearance of nerve force amongst natural forces and the complexity of the nervous system of man both illustrate." On the other side John Stuart Mill is just as positive that culture is not inherent. "Of all vulgar modes," he remarks, "of escaping from the consideration of the effect of social and moral influences on the human mind, the most vulgar is that of attributing the diversities of conduct and character to inherent