5b: H.L Mencken, Europe After 8:15
For the American professional seeker after the night romance of Paris, the French
have a phrase which, be it soever inelegant, retains still a brilliant verity. The phrase
is "une belle poire." And its Yankee equivalent is "sucker."
The French, as the world knows, are a kindly, forgiving people; and though
they cast the epithet, they do so in manner tolerant and with light arpeggio—of 5
Yankee sneer and bitterness containing not a trace. They cast it as one casts a coin
into the hand of some maundering beggar, with commingled oh-wells and philosophical
pity. For in the Frenchman of the Paris of to-day, though there run not
the blood of Lafayette, and though he detest Americans190 as he detests the Germans,
he yet, detesting, sorrows for them, sees them as mere misled yokels, uncosmopolite, 10
obstreperous, of comical posturing in ostensible un-Latin lech, vainglorious
and spying—children into whose hands has fallen Zola, children adream, somnambulistic,
groping rashly for those things out of life that, groped for, are lost—that
may come only as life comes, naturally, calmly, inevitably.
But the Frenchman, he never laughs at us; that would his culture forbid. And, if 15
he smile, his mouth goes placid before the siege. His attitude is the attitude of one
beholding a Comstock come to the hill of Hörselberg in Thuringia, there to sniff
and snicker in Venus's crimson court. His attitude is the attitude of one beholding
a Tristan en voyage for a garden of love and roses he can never reach. His attitude,
the attitude of an old and understanding professor, shaking his head musingly as 20
his tender pupils, unmellowed yet in the191 autumnal fragrances of life, giggle covertly
over the pages of Balzac and Flaubert, over the nudes of Manet, over even the
innocent yearnings of the bachelor Chopin.
The American, loosed in the streets of Paris by night, however sees in himself
another and a worldlier image. Into the crevices of his flat house in his now far-away 25
New York have penetrated from time to time vague whisperings of the laxative
deviltries, the bold saucinesses of the city by the Seine. And hither has he come,
as comes a jack tar to West Street after protracted cruise upon the celibate seas,
to smell out, as a very devil of a fellow, quotation-marked life and its attributes.
What is romance to such a soul—even were romance, the romance of this Paris, 30
uncurtained to him? Which, forsooth, the romance seldom is; for though it may
go athwart his path, he sees it not, he feels it not, he knows it not, can know it not,
for what it is.
5c: Charles Darwin, On the Origin of Species
In considering the Origin of Species, it is quite conceivable that a naturalist, reflecting
on the mutual affinities of organic beings, on their embryological relations,
their geographical distribution, geological succession, and other such facts, might
come to the conclusion that each species had not been independently created, but
had descended, like varieties, from other species. Nevertheless, such a conclusion, 5
even if well founded, would be unsatisfactory, until it could be shown how the
innumerable species inhabiting this world have been modified so as to acquire that
perfection of structure and co-adaptation which most justly excites our admiration.
Naturalists continually refer to external conditions, such as climate, food, etc., as
the only possible cause of variation. In one very limited sense, as we shall hereafter 10
see, this may be true; but it is preposterous to attribute to mere external conditions,
the structure, for instance, of the woodpecker, with its feet, tail, beak, and
tongue, so admirably adapted to catch insects under the bark of trees. In the case
of the misseltoe, which draws its nourishment from certain trees, which has seeds
that must be transported by certain birds, and which has flowers with separate sexes 15
absolutely requiring the agency of certain insects to bring pollen from one flower
to the other, it is equally preposterous to account for the structure of this parasite,
with its relations to several distinct organic beings, by the effects of external conditions,
or of habit, or of the volition of the plant itself.
The author of the Vestiges of Creation would, I presume, say that, after a certain 20
unknown number of generations, some bird had given birth to a woodpecker,
and some plant to the misseltoe, and that these had been produced perfect as we
now see them; but this assumption seems to me to be no explanation, for it leaves
the case of the coadaptations of organic beings to each other and to their physical
conditions of life, untouched and unexplained. 25
It is, therefore, of the highest importance to gain a clear insight into the means
of modification and coadaptation. At the commencement of my observations it
seemed to me probable that a careful study of domesticated animals and of cultivated
plants would offer the best chance of making out this obscure problem. Nor
have I been disappointed; in this and in all other perplexing cases I have invariably 30
found that our knowledge, imperfect though it be, of variation under domestication,
afforded the best and safest clue. I may venture to express my conviction of
the high value of such studies, although they have been very commonly neglected
by naturalists.
Passage 5d: Thomas Henry Huxley, Science and Culture
From the time that the first suggestion to introduce physical science into ordinary
education was timidly whispered, until now, the advocates of scientific education
have met with opposition of two kinds. On the one hand, they have been pooh-poohed
by the men of business who pride themselves on being the representatives
of practicality; while, on the other hand, they have been excommunicated by the 5
classical scholars, in their capacity of Levites in charge of the ark of culture and
monopolists of liberal education.
The practical men believed that the idol whom they worship–rule of thumb–
has been the source of the past prosperity, and will suffice for the future welfare of
the arts and manufactures. They were of opinion that science is speculative rubbish; 10
that theory and practice have nothing to do with one another; and that the
scientific habit of mind is an impediment, rather than an aid, in the conduct of
ordinary affairs.
I have used the past tense in speaking of the practical men–for although they
were very formidable thirty years ago, I am not sure that the pure species has not 15
been extirpated. In fact, so far as mere argument goes, they have been subjected
to such a feu d'enfer that it is a miracle if any have escaped. But I have remarked
that your typical practical man has an unexpected resemblance to one of Milton's
angels. His spiritual wounds, such as are inflicted by logical weapons, may be as
deep as a well and as wide as a church door, but beyond shedding a few drops of 20
ichor, celestial or otherwise, he is no whit the worse. So, if any of these opponents
be left, I will not waste time in vain repetition of the demonstrative evidence of
the practical value of science; but knowing that a parable will sometimes penetrate
where syllogisms fail to effect an entrance, I will offer a story for their consideration.
Once upon a time, a boy, with nothing to depend upon but his own vigorous 25
nature, was thrown into the thick of the struggle for existence in the midst of
a great manufacturing population. He seems to have had a hard fight, inasmuch
as, by the time he was thirty years of age, his total disposable funds amounted to
twenty pounds. Nevertheless, middle life found him giving proof of his comprehension
of the practical problems he had been roughly called upon to solve, by a 30
career of remarkable prosperity.
Finally, having reached old age with its well-earned surroundings of "honour,
troops of friends," the hero of my story bethought himself of those who were making
a like start in life, and how he could stretch out a helping hand to them.
After long and anxious reflection this successful practical man of business could 35
devise nothing better than to provide them with the means of obtaining "sound,
extensive, and practical scientific knowledge." And he devoted a large part of his
wealth and five years of incessant work to this end.
I need not point the moral of a tale which, as the solid and spacious fabric of
the Scientific College assures us, is no fable, nor can anything which I could say 40
intensify the force of this practical answer to practical objections.
Passage 5e: Chareles Lyell, The Student’s Elements of Geology
Of what materials is the earth composed, and in what manner are these materials
arranged? These are the first inquiries with which Geology is occupied, a science
which derives its name from the Greek γῆ, ge, the earth, and λογος, logos, a discourse.
Previously to experience we might have imagined that investigations of this kind would
relate exclusively to the mineral kingdom, and to the various rocks, soils, and 5
metals, which occur upon the surface of the earth, or at various depths beneath
it. But, in pursuing such researches, we soon find ourselves led on to consider the
successive changes which have taken place in the former state of the earth's surface
and interior, and the causes which have given rise to these changes; and, what is
still more singular and unexpected, we soon become engaged in researches into the 10
history of the animate creation, or of the various tribes of animals and plants which
have, at different periods of the past, inhabited the globe.
All are aware that the solid parts of the earth consist of distinct substances, such
as clay, chalk, sand, limestone, coal, slate, granite, and the like; but previously to
observation it is commonly imagined that all these had remained from the first in 15
the state in which we now see them,—that they were created in their present form,
and in their present position. The geologist soon comes to a different conclusion,
discovering proofs that the external parts of the earth were not all produced in the
beginning of things, in the state in which we now behold them, nor in an instant of
time. On the contrary, he can show that they have acquired their actual configuration 20
and condition gradually, under a great variety of circumstances, and at successive
periods, during each of which distinct races of living beings have flourished on
the land and in the waters, the remains of these creatures still lying buried in
the crust of the earth.
By the "earth's crust," is meant that small portion of the exterior of our planet 25
which is accessible to human observation. It comprises not merely all of which the
structure is laid open in mountain precipices, or in cliffs overhanging a river or the
sea, or whatever the miner may reveal in artificial excavations; but the whole of
that outer covering of the planet on which we are enabled to reason by observations
made at or near the surface. These reasonings may extend to a depth of several 30
miles, perhaps ten miles; and even then it may be said, that such a thickness is no
more than 1/400 part of the distance from the surface to the centre. The remark
is just; but although the dimensions of such a crust are, in truth, insignificant
when compared to the entire globe, yet they are vast, and of magnificent extent
in relation to man, and to the organic beings which people our globe. Referring 35
to this standard of magnitude, the geologist may admire the ample limits of his
domain, and admit, at the same time, that not only the exterior of the planet, but
the entire earth, is but an atom in the midst of the countless worlds surveyed by
the astronomer.
Passage 6a: Thomas Jefferson, Sixth State of the Union Address
It would have given me, fellow citizens, great satisfaction to announce in the
moment of your meeting that the difficulties in our foreign relations existing at
the time of your last separation had been amicably and justly terminated. I lost
no time in taking those measures which were most likely to bring them to such a
termination - by special missions charged with such powers and instructions as in 5
the event of failure could leave no imputation on either our moderation or forbearance.
The delays which have since taken place in our negotiations with the British
Government appear to have proceeded from causes which do not forbid the expectation
that during the course of the session I may be enabled to lay before you their
final issue. What will be that of the negotiations for settling our differences with 10
Spain nothing which had taken place at the date of the last dispatches enables us
to pronounce. On the western side of the Mississippi she advanced in considerable
force, and took post at the settlement of Bayou Pierre, on the Red River. This village
was originally settled by France, was held by her as long as she held Louisiana,
and was delivered to Spain only as a part of Louisiana. Being small, insulated, and 15