Rough Ways Made Smooth: A series of familiar essays on scientific subjects

Part 21

Chapter 213,843 wordsPublic domain

In endeavouring to form an opinion on the law of heredity in its relation to genius, we must remember that a remark somewhat similar to one made by Huxley respecting the origin of new species applies to the origin of a man of genius. Before such a man became celebrated no one cared particularly to inquire about his ancestry or relations; when his fame was established, the time for making the inquiry had passed away. It is quite possible that, if we had exact and full information, in a great number of cases we might find the position taken up by Mr Galton and M. Ribot greatly strengthened; it is, however, also possible that we might find it much weakened, not only by the recognition of a multitude of cases in which the approach of a great man was in no sort indicated by scintillations of brightness along the genealogical track, but by a yet greater number of cases in which families containing numbers of clever, witty, and learned folks have produced none who attained real distinction.

There is an excellent remark in a thoughtful but anonymous paper on Heredity in the _Quarterly Journal of Science_, two years or so ago, which suggests some considerations well worth noting. 'If we look,' says the writer, 'on the intellect as not a single force but a complex of faculties, we shall find little to perplex us in the phenomenon of spontaneity'--that is (in this case), in the appearance of a man of genius in a family not before remarkable in any way. 'Suppose a family who have possessed some of the attributes of greatness, but who, in virtue of a principle equally true in psychology and in mechanics, that "nothing is stronger than its weakest part," has remained in obscurity. Let a man of this family marry a woman whose faculties are the complement of his own. It is possible that a child of such a couple may combine the defects or weaknesses of both parents, and we have then the case of spontaneous imbecility or criminality. But it is also possible that he may combine the excellences of both, and burst upon the world as a spontaneous genius.... Again, we must remember that, even if we consider the intellect as "one and indivisible," it is far from being the only faculty needful for the attainment of excellence, even in the fields of pure science. Combined with it there must be the moral faculties of patience, perseverance, and concentration. The will must be strong enough to overcome all distracting temptations, whether in themselves good or evil. Lastly, there must be constitutional energy and endurance. Failing these, the man will merely leave among his friends the conviction that he might have achieved greatness, if----. We once knew a physician, resident in a small country town, who from time to time startled his associates by some profound and suggestive idea, some brilliant _aperçu_. But a constitutional languor prevented him from ever completing an investigation, or from leaving the world one written line.'

The effect of circumstances also must not be overlooked. It is certain that some of those who stand highest in the world's repute would have done nothing to make their names remembered but for circumstances which either aided their efforts or compelled them to exertion; and it cannot be doubted, therefore, that many who have been by no means celebrated have required but favouring opportunities or the spur of adverse circumstances to have achieved distinction. We note the cases in which men who have been intended by their parents for the desk or routine work have fortunately been freed for nobler work, to which their powers have specially fitted them. But we are apt to forget that for each such case there must be many instances in which no fortunate chance has intervened. The theory that genius _will_ make its way, despite all obstacles, is like the popular notion that 'murder will out,' and other such fancies. We note when events happen which favour such notions, but we not only do not note--in the very nature of things it is impossible that we should have the chance of noting--cases unfavourable to a notion which, after all, is but a part of the general and altogether erroneous idea that what we think ought to be, will be. That among millions of men in a civilised community, trained under multitudinous conditions, for diverse professions, trades, and so forth, exposed to many vicissitudes of fortune, good and bad, there should be men from time to time--

Who break their birth's invidious bar, And grasp the skirts of happy chance, And breast the blows of circumstance, And grapple with their evil star,

is no truer proof of the general theory that genius will make its mark, despite circumstance, than is the occasional occurrence of strange instances in which murder has been detected despite seemingly perfect precautions.

It must, however, be in a general sense admitted that mental powers, like bodily powers, are inherited. If the ancestry of men of genius could be traced, we should in each case probably find enough, in the history of some line at least along which descent could be traced, to account for the possession of special powers, and enough in the history of that and other lines of descent to account for the other qualities or characteristics which, combined with those special powers, gave to the man's whole nature the capacity by which he was enabled to stand above the average level of his fellow-men. We might, with knowledge at once wider and deeper than we actually possess of the various families of each nation, and their relationships, predict in many cases, not that any given child would prove a genius, but that some one or other of a family would probably rise to distinction. To predict the advent of a man of great genius as we predict the approach of an eclipse or a transit, will doubtless never be in men's power; but it is conceivable that at some perhaps not very remote epoch, anticipations may be formed somewhat like those which astronomers are able to make respecting the recurrence of meteoric showers at particular times and seasons, and visible in particular regions. Already we know so much as this, that in certain races of men only can special forms of mental energy, like special bodily characteristics, be expected to appear. It may well be that hereafter such anticipations may be limited to special groups of families.

When we pass from mental to moral qualities, we find ourselves in the presence of problems which could not be thoroughly dealt with in these pages. The general question, how far the moral characteristics of each person born into the world depends on those of the parents, or more generally of the ancestry, is one involving many considerations which, perhaps unfortunately, have been associated with religious questions. And apart from this, the answers to this question have been found to have a very wide range--from the opinion of those who (like Miss Martineau) consider that our characters, even where they seem to undergo changes resulting from the exercise of will, are entirely due to inheritance, to the view of those who consider, like Heinroth, that no moral characteristic can possibly be regarded as inherited in such sort as to modify either responsibility for evil-doing or credit for well-doing. Probably most will be content to accept a view between these extremes, without too nicely considering how far moral responsibility is affected by the influence of inherited tendencies.

There are, however, some illustrations relating to exceptional habits, which may be mentioned here without bringing in the general question.

I have not referred to insanity in speaking of inherited mental qualities, because insanity must be regarded as a disease of the moral rather than of the mental nature. Its origin may be in the mind, as the origin of mental diseases is in the brain, that is, is in the body; but the principal manifestations of insanity, those which must guide us in determining its true position, are unquestionably those relating to moral habitudes. Insanity is not always, or at least not always demonstrably hereditary. Esquirol found among 1,375 lunatics 337 unquestionable cases of hereditary transmission. Guislain and others regard hereditary lunacy as including, roughly, one-fourth of the cases of insanity. Moreau and others hold that the proportion is greater. It appears, however, that mental alienation is not the only form in which the insanity of an ancestor may manifest itself. Dr. Morel gives the following instructive illustration of the 'varied and odd complications occurring in the hereditary transmission of nervous disease.' He attended four brothers belonging to one family. The grandfather of these children had died insane; their father had never been able to continue long at anything; their uncle, a man of great intellect and a distinguished physician, was noted for his eccentricities. Now these four children, sprung from one stock, presented very different forms of physical disorder. One of them was a maniac, whose wild paroxysms occurred periodically. The disorder of the second was melancholy madness; he was reduced by his stupor to a merely automatic condition. The third was characterised by an extreme irascibility and suicidal disposition. The fourth manifested a strong liking for art; but he was of a timorous and suspicious nature. This story seems in some degree to give support to the theory that genius and mental aberration are not altogether alien; that, in fact,

Great wit to madness nearly is allied, And thin partitions do their bounds divide.

Of the hereditary transmission of idiotcy we naturally have not the same kind of evidence. Madness often, if not generally, comes on or shows itself late in life, whereas idiotcy is not often developed in the adult. Insanity is the diseased or weakened condition of a mind possessing all the ordinary thinking faculties; idiotcy implies that some of these faculties are altogether wanting. It has been asserted, by the way, that idiotcy is a product of civilisation. The civilised 'present, as peoples,' says Dr. Duncan, 'indications of defective vital force, which are not witnessed among those human beings that live in a state of nature. There must be something rotten in some parts of our boasted civilisation: and not only a something which has to do with our psychology, but a great deal more with our power of physical persistence. It is a fact that the type of the perfect minded, just above the highest idiots, or the simpletons, is more distinguishable amongst the most civilised of the civilised than among those who are the so-called children of nature. Dolts, boobies, stupids, _et hoc genus omne_, abound in young Saxondom; but their representatives are rare amongst the tribes that are slowly disappearing before the white man.' But it seems barely possible that the difference may be due to the care with which civilised communities interfere to prevent the elimination of idiot infants by the summary process of destroying them. The writer from whom I have just quoted refers to the fact that, even under the Roman Empire, as during the Republic, idiots were looked upon as 'useless entities by the practical Roman.' They had no sanctity in his eyes, and hence their probable rarity; doubtless the unfortunate children were neglected, and there is much reason for believing that they were 'exposed.' 'A congenital idiot soon begins to give trouble,' proceeds Dr. Duncan, 'and to excite unusual attention; and, moreover, unless extra care is given to it, death is sure to ensue in early childhood.' May not idiot children in savage communities have an even worse chance of survival than under the Roman Empire? and may not dolts, boobies, and stupids, _et hoc genus omne_, among savages, have such inferior chances in the infantine and later in the adult struggle for existence, that we may explain thus the comparative rarity of these varieties in savage communities? It certainly does not seem to have been proved as yet that civilisation _per se_ is favourable to the development of insanity.

The liking for strong drink, as is too well known, is often transmitted. It is remarked by Dr. Howe that 'the children of drunkards are deficient in bodily and vital energy, and are predisposed by their very organisation to have cravings for alcoholic stimulants. If they pursue the course of their fathers, which they have more temptation to follow and less power to avoid than the children of the temperate, they add to their hereditary weakness, and increase the tendency to idiotcy or insanity in their constitution; and this they leave to their children after them.' Whatever opinion we may form on the general question of responsibility for offences of commission or of omission, on this special point all who are acquainted with the facts must agree, admitting that in some cases of inherited craving for alcoholic stimulants the responsibility of those who have failed and fallen in the struggle has been but small. 'The fathers have eaten sour grapes, and the children's teeth are set on edge.' Robert Collyer of Chicago, in his noble sermon 'The Thorn in the Flesh,' has well said, 'In the far-reaching influences that go to every life, and away backward as certainly as forward, children are sometimes born with appetites fatally strong in their nature. As they grow up the appetite grows with them, and speedily becomes a master, the master a tyrant; and by the time he arrives at manhood, the man is a slave. I heard a man say that for eight-and-twenty years the soul within him had had to stand like an unsleeping sentinel, guarding his appetite for strong drink. To be a man at last under such a disadvantage, not to mention a saint, is as fine a piece of grace as can well be seen. There is no doctrine that demands a larger vision than this of the depravity of human nature. Old Dr. Mason used to say that "as much grace as would make John a saint, would hardly keep Peter from knocking a man down."'

There are some curious stories of special vices transmitted from parent to child, which, if true, are exceedingly significant, to say the least.[19] Gama Machado relates that a lady with whom he was acquainted, who possessed a large fortune, had a passion for gambling and passed whole nights at play. 'She died young,' he proceeds, 'of a pulmonary complaint. Her eldest son who was in appearance the image of his mother, had the same passion for play. He died of consumption like his mother, and at the same age; his daughter who resembled him, inherited the same tastes, and died young.' Hereditary predisposition to theft, murder, and suicide, has been demonstrated in several cases. But the world at large is naturally indisposed to recognise congenital tendency to crime as largely diminishing responsibility for offences or attempted offences of this kind. So far as the general interests of the community are concerned, the demonstrated fact that a thief or murderer has _inherited_ his unpleasant tendency should be a _raison de plus_ for preventing the tendency from being transmitted any farther. In stamping out the hereditary ruffian or rascal by life imprisonment, we not only get rid of the 'grown serpent' but of the worm which

Hath nature that in time would venom breed.

An illustration of the policy at least (we do not say the justice) of preventive measures in such cases, is shown in the case of a woman in America, of whom the world may fairly say what Father Paul remarked to gentle Alice Brown; it 'never knew so criminal a family as hers.' A young woman of remarkably depraved character, infested, some seventy years since, the district of the Upper Hudson. At one stage of her youth she narrowly, and somewhat unfortunately, escaped death. Surviving, however, she bore many children, who in turn had large families, insomuch that there are now some eighty direct descendants, of whom one-fourth are convicted criminals, whilst the rest are drunkards, lunatics, paupers, and otherwise undesirable members of the community.

With facts such as these before us, we cannot doubt that in whatever degree variability may eliminate after awhile peculiar mental or moral tendencies, these are often transmitted for many generations before they die out. If it be unsafe to argue that the responsibility of those inheriting special characteristics is diminished, the duties of others towards them may justly be considered to be modified. Other duties than the mere personal control of tendencies which men may recognise in themselves are also introduced. If a man finds within himself an inherent tendency towards some sin, which yet he utterly detests, insomuch that while the spirit is willing the flesh is weak or perchance utterly powerless, he must recognise in his own life a struggle too painful and too hopeless to be handed down to others. As regards our relations to families in which criminal tendencies have been developed, either through the negligence of those around (as in certain dens in London where for centuries crime has swarmed and multiplied), or by unfortunate alliances, we may 'perceive here a divided duty.' It has been remarked that 'we do not set ourselves to train tigers and wolves into peaceful domestic animals; we seek to extirpate them,' and the question has been asked, 'why should we act otherwise with beings, who, if human in form, are worse than wild beasts?' 'To educate the son of a garotter or a "corner-man" into an average Englishman,' may be 'about as promising a task as to train one of the latter into a Newton or a Milton.' But we must not too quickly despair of a task which may be regarded as a duty inherited from those who in past generations neglected it. There is no hope of the reversion of tiger or wolf to less savage types, for, far back as we can trace their ancestry, we find them savage of nature. With our criminal families the case is not so utterly hopeless. Extirpation being impossible (though easily talked of) without injustice which would be the parent of far greater troubles even than our criminal classes bring upon us, we should consider the elements of hope which the problem unquestionably affords. By making it the manifest interest of our criminal population to scatter, or, failing that, by leaving them no choice in the matter, the poison in their blood may before many generations be eradicated, not by wide-spreading merely, but because of the circumstance that only the better sort among them would have (when scattered) much chance of rearing families as well as of escaping imprisonment.

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote 15: It is said by Ribot that of all the features the nose is the one which heredity preserves best.]

[Footnote 16: Shakspeare, who was bald young (and, so far as one can judge from his portraits, had a good set of teeth), suggests a correlation between hairiness and want of wit, which is at least likely to be regarded by those who 'wear his baldness while they're young' as a sound theory. 'Why,' asks Antipholus of Syracuse, 'is Time such a niggard of hair, being, as it is, so plentiful an excrement?' 'Because,' says Dromio of Syracuse, 'it is a blessing that he bestows on beasts; and what he hath scanted men in hair he hath given them in wit.']

[Footnote 17: While penning the above lines I have been reminded of an experience of my own, which I had never before thought of as connected with the subject of heredity; yet it seems not unlikely that it may be regarded as a case in point. During the infancy of my eldest son it so chanced that the question of rest at night, and consequently the question of finding some convenient way of keeping the child quiet, became one of considerable interest to me. Cradle-rocking was effective but carried on in the usual way prevented my own sleep, though causing the child to sleep. I devised, however, a way of rocking the cradle with the foot, which could be carried on in my sleep, after a few nights' practice. Now it is an odd coincidence (only, perhaps) that the writer's next child, a girl, had while still an infant a trick which I have noticed in no other case. She would rock herself in the cradle by throwing the right leg over the left at regular intervals, the swing of the cradle being steadily kept up for many minutes, and being quite as wide in range as a nurse could have given. It was often continued when the child was asleep.

Since writing the above, I have learned from my eldest daughter, the girl who as a child had the habit described, that a recent little brother of hers, one of twins, and remarkably like her, had the same habit, rocking his own cradle so vigorously as to disturb her in the next room with the noise. These two only of twelve children have had this curious habit; but as this child is thirteen years younger than she is, the force of the coincidence in point of time is to some degree impaired.]

[Footnote 18: See my _Science Byeways_, p. 337 _et seq._]

[Footnote 19: The following statement from the researches of Brown-Sequard seems well worth noting in this connection:--'In the course of his masterly experimental investigations into the functions of the nervous system he discovered that, after a particular lesion of the spinal cord of guinea-pigs, a slight pinching of the skin of the face would throw the animal into a kind of epileptic convulsion. That this artificial epilepsy should be constantly producible in guinea-pigs, and not in any other animals experimented on, was in itself sufficiently singular; and it was not less surprising that the tendency to it persisted after the lesion of the spinal cord seemed to have been entirely recovered from. But it was far more wonderful that the offspring of these epileptic guinea-pigs showed the same predisposition, without having been themselves subjected to any lesion whatever; whilst no such tendency showed itself in any of the large number of young bred by the same accurate observer from parents that had not thus been operated on.']

_BODILY ILLNESS AS A MENTAL STIMULANT._

During special states of disease the mind sometimes develops faculties such as it does not possess when the body is in full health. Some of the abnormal qualities thus exhibited by the mind seem strikingly suggestive of the possible acquisition by the human race of similar powers under ordinary conditions. For this reason, though we fear there is no likelihood at present of any practical application of the knowledge we may obtain on this subject, it seems to me that there is considerable interest in examining the evidence afforded by the strange powers which the mind occasionally shows during diseases of the body, and especially during such diseases as are said, in unscientific but expressive language, to lower the tone of the nervous system.