Styles of Reasoning in Early to Mid-Victorian Life Research: Analysis:Synthesis and Palaetiology

Journal of the History of Biology (2006) Ó Springer 2006 DOI 10.1007/s10739-006-0006-4

JAMES ELWICK Science and Technology Studies Faculties of Arts and Science and Engineering York University 4700 Keele St. M3J 1P3 Toronto, ON Canada E-mail: [email protected]

Abstract. To better understand the work of pre-Darwinian British life researchers in their own right, this paper discusses two different styles of reasoning. On the one hand there was analysis:synthesis, where an organism was disintegrated into its constituent parts and then reintegrated into a whole; on the other hand there was palaetiology, the historicist depiction of the progressive specialization of an organism. This paper shows how each style allowed for development, but showed it as moving in opposite directions. In analysis:synthesis, development proceeded centripetally, through the fusion of parts. Meanwhile in palaetiology, development moved centrifugally, through the ramifying specialization of an initially simple substance. I first examine a community of analytically oriented British life researchers, exemplified by Richard Owen, and certain technical questions they considered important. These involved the neurosciences, embryology, and reproduction and regeneration. The paper then looks at a new generation of British palaetiologists, exemplified by W.B. Carpenter and T.H. Huxley, who succeeded at portraying analysts’ questions as irrelevant. The link between styles of reasoning and physical sites is also explored. Analysts favored museums, which facilitated the examination and display of unchanging marine organisms while providing a power base for analysts. I suggest that palaetiologists were helped by vivaria, which included marine aquaria and Wardian cases. As they became popular in the early 1850s, vivaria provided palaetiologists with a different kind of living and changing evidence. Forms of evidence, how they were preserved and examined, and career options all reinforced each other: social and epistemic factors thus merged.

Keywords: analysis, Charles Darwin, George Newport, museums, neurosciences, palaetiology, regeneration, reproduction, Richard Owen, Robert E. Grant, serial homology, styles of reasoning, synthesis, T.H. Huxley, W.B. Carpenter JAMES ELWICK

Introduction

This paper introduces a new dichotomy for historians of nineteenth century biology: analysis:synthesis and palaetiology. These two categories reveal differences unexplored by other dualisms such as form versus function, philosophical anatomy versus natural theological functional- ism, or epigenesis versus preformationism. Nor do they seem linked with contemporary concerns about materialism. Most importantly, this dualism allows us to better appreciate the aims of British pre-Darwinian life researchers in their own right. I focus on the life sciences in Victo- rian Britain – specifically London – between the late 1820s and the early 1850s, emphasizing marine invertebrate research. Obviously the usual warnings about subtle differences and fine nuances ignored by this theoretical scheme apply – all maps must omit certain points if they are to highlight new and interesting features of the terrain. Analysis:synthesis and palaetiology were styles of reasoning, self- reinforcing norms for what counted as good research. I use ‘styles of reasoning’ to group various historians’ terms for these categories. They include Alastair Crombie’s ‘‘styles of reasoning’’, further developed by Ian Hacking; Ludwik Fleck’s ‘‘thought-styles’’; Gerald Holton’s ‘‘the- mata;’’ Nicholas Jardine’s ‘‘scenes of inquiry;’’ and John Pickstone’s ‘‘ways of knowing.’’ For Hacking, a style of reasoning sets out what it is to reason rightly. It is epistemological. Historically, a style made certain kinds of inquiries possible, and yet by helping a researcher commit to solving certain problems, it also restricted and excluded alternative inquiries.1 This partly stemmed from how evidence was used in different styles – someone using one style of reasoning presupposed certain kinds of evidence to be more relevant than other kinds. In turn how evidence was generated, stored and examined helped to shape the favored workplaces of each style. This helped set out possible career alternatives for researchers. Exploring styles of reasoning helps us fuse researchers’ social and epistemic commitments. This paper first compares analysis:synthesis and palaetiology. It then closely examines the style of analysis:synthesis in the life sciences, and some of the areas considered important by analysts:2 the neurosciences, classification by nervous structure, development, and regeneration/ reproduction. Richard Owen was one researcher committed to analy-

1 The best overviews of this are in Crombie, 1988; Iliﬀe, 1998. Another discussion is in Kusch, 1991, p. 94. See also Collingwood, 1939, pp. 29–30, Holton, 1988, pp. 41–42, 83–84; Harwood, 1993; Jardine, 2000, pp. 3–4, 77; Hacking, 2002, pp. 181–182. 2 For brevity I use this term to refer to those practicing analysis:synthesis. STYLES OF REASONING IN EARLY TO MID-VICTORIAN LIFE RESEARCH sis:synthesis. The paper then moves on to consider palaetiology in more detail, and its emphasis on von Baerian embryology. T.H. Huxley and W.B. Carpenter exemplify palaetiology. The paper ends with Owen’s 1858 attempt to reclassify mammals in an analytic:synthetic way, an attempt which Huxley reinterpreted (or misinterpreted) palaetiologi- cally.

A Comparison of Analysis:Synthesis and Palaetiology

A quick way to contrast the two styles is to appropriate two different images used by Georges Canguilhem to explain the history of morphology. Canguilhem saw morphologists as guided by one of two irreconcilable pictures. Some saw living things as discontinuous: as composites of discrete parts. Others saw organisms as continuous: all growing out of an initial simple and plastic material.3 Canguilhem’s first image nicely captures how analysis:synthesis portrays living things as composites. His second can be used to depict palaetiology’s emphasis on continuity and unity. Analysis:synthesis has been closely examined by the philosophers of biology William Bechtel and Robert C. Richardson. And it has been extensively discussed as a ‘‘way of knowing’’ by historian of medicine John Pickstone.4 Analysts thought that the best kind of knowledge was obtained by disintegrating systems or organizations into their simpler constituent parts, called elements, and then seeing those systems as nothing but aggregations of those elements. Organisms were one such kind of system. Analysis:synthesis was thus a doublet. It gained strength in Britain in the late 1820s – imported largely from France, by British researchers with an inferiority complex. They used it to strengthen their hold on museums, where analysis:synthesis mattered the most. Museums and analysis:synthesis went well together because museums could store vast amounts of elementary structures, which could then be compared. This favored the sedentary researcher over the field naturalist, a point noted by Georges Cuvier himself.5 This kind of evidence is unchanging. In marine invertebrate zoology of the time, for instance, museum evidence consisted of bleached specimens kept in wine-spirit filled glass jars. The individuals, their tissues, and their cells could not interact or transform.

3 Canguilhem, 1994, p. 163. 4 Bechtel and Richardson, 1993, pp. 18–21; Pickstone, 1993; Pickstone, 1994. 5 Outram, 1996, pp. 259–262. JAMES ELWICK

Meanwhile the term ‘palaetiology’ was coined by philosopher Wil- liam Whewell in his 1837 History of the Inductive Sciences.6 Palaetiol- ogists espoused that the best kind of knowledge was understanding how organizations and systems changed over time, becoming more complex out of simple origins. Whewell saw palaetiologists studying how ‘‘phenomena at each step become more and more complicated, by involving the results of all that has preceded, modified by supervening agencies.’’7 He was not so much a pontificator - setting out rules that ought to be followed by researchers – as someone who recognized similar practices. Whewell can thus be seen as listing ‘‘exemplar disciplines’’ to be prof- itably copied by other fields.8 Palaetiology in turn was largely brought into Britain from Germany – for example, Martin Barry imported von Baerian embryology in 1837.9 It was thence used by some British life researchers to challenge an older generation of British analysts. They cited evidence that changed over time, which meant that palaetiological life research usually occurred in different sites than analytical research. Against the analysts’ museum, one relevant locus of palaetiologists’ activities was the ‘vivarium.’ In the case of marine invertebrate zoology, this included such places as marine aquaria and the Wardian case. Vivaria facilitated the close control and observation of specimen-evidence over longer periods. An observer, comfortably indoors, could over several months watch a hydroid eventually change into a medusoid. Female water fleas could be isolated from male ones to ensure that one was indeed observing asexual reproduction. Vivaria only became wide- spread by the late 1840s. Many historians of biology are likely familiar with these styles, particularly ‘palaetiology.’ But to call palaetiology ‘developmentalism’ is imprecise, for both styles of reasoning allowed for development. I have chosen new terms because each style depicted different directions of development. Consider again Canguilhem’s two images: the first, discontinuous, style of analysis:synthesis showed development occurring centripetally. An analyst saw an embryo appearing at a number of separate points and then fusing together in a new center. It developed

6 Whewell, 1837, pp. 3:481, 486; Whewell, 1967b. I am deeply indebted to John Beatty for suggesting this name and this approach. More recently there has been discussion of palaetiology on mid-1990s listservs, such as Robert J. O’Hara’s at http:// rjohara.net/darwin/palaetiology.html, retrieved March 3 2006. 7 Whewell, 1967a, p. 3:399. On the importance of palaetiology, see Hodge, 1991. 8 Thoughts on ‘‘exemplar disciplines’’ are found in Jardine, 2000, pp. 103–104. 9 Barry, 1837a; Barry, 1837b. STYLES OF REASONING IN EARLY TO MID-VICTORIAN LIFE RESEARCH by moving inward – making ontogeny the fusion, or synthesis, of parts. A good example of synthetic development was insect metamorphosis, when the serially repetitive segments of a larva coalesced and concentrated during the pupal and imago stages. Analysis and synthesis were related, as analysis disintegrated a system into its components, and synthesis put those components back together again. Perhaps in using this style, early 19th century life researchers sought to copy the most successful science of the day, Newtonian natural philosophy.10 On the other hand palaetiologists saw development occurring centrifugally, with the embryo emanating outward from a single, and simple, starting point. Embryos spread outward from this single spot. Well-known examples of this centrifugal developmental direction include von Baerian embryology – the emergence of the heterogeneous from a homogeneous mass – and the Darwinian ramifying tree of descent with modiﬁcation . Historians as early as 1912 (Theodore Merz) pointed out a kind of grand style that I have subsumed under ‘palaetiology.’ Those following Merz have used diﬀerent names – hence Dov Ospovat noted the emergence of a ‘‘theory of diverging development’’ and saw von Baer’s embryology as simply one manifestation of this theory.11 Meanwhile, historians long before Pickstone have noted a prevalent style of analysis:synthesis, including Merz and Elie Hale´vy, the famous economic and political historian.12 Most importantly, seeing Richard Owen as an analyst:synthesist makes his researches more coherent. In this light I suggest that Thomas Henry Huxley especially succeeded in marginalizing his bitter foe, Owen, by rewriting many parts of the history of biology to make it seem as if the only kind of good life research was palaetiological.13

10 Newton’s prism experiments are discussed below. Gravitation is another example. Consider Scottish anatomist John Goodsir’s modiﬁcation of Newton’s law of gravitation for anatomy, imagining a ‘‘law of production’’ based on the inverse cube of the distance of two bodies rather than Newton’s square. Goodsir et al., 1868, pp. 2:212–213. 11 Merz, 1965, pp. 2:279–280; Ospovat, 1976, p. 27; Coleman, 1977, p. 10; Farley, 1982, pp. 75–81; Alter, 1999. 12 Merz notes how the ‘‘morphological period,’’ ending in 1860, was replaced by the ‘‘genetic period’’ – Merz, 1965, pp. 2:214fn, 2:270–275. Hale´vy, 1928, p. 502. 13 Thus after Owen’s death Huxley wrote a review essay (much like Cuvier’s back- handed elegies) on Owen’s anatomical work, in Owen, 1894. Table 1. Styles of reasoning compared

Analysis:synthesis Palaetiology

What constituted valid knowledge? Disintegration of system (organism) into simple Understanding system’s growing complexity and components; reintegration of those components into specialization from its simple origins system

Contemporaries who noticed a James Mill; John Stuart Mill, Jeremy Bentham James Cowles Prichard; William Whewell style

Historians who have noticed a style Elie Hale´vy; Theodore Merz; Georges Canguilhem; Theodore Merz; Alastair Crombie; William Cole- Randall Albury; John Pickstone man; Dov Ospovat; John Farley; Stephen Alter AE ELWICK JAMES Institutions/sites Museums ‘Vivaria’ (aquaria, Wardian cases)

Major Continental researchers and E.B. de Condillac; Antoine Lavoisier; Georges Cu- K.E. von Baer; Matthias Schleiden; T. von Siebold their styles vier; E. G. St-Hilaire; F-J Gall; H. Milne Edwards; M. de Serres. (J.F.Meckel)? (C.G.Carus)?

Major British researchers using/ Robert Grant; Thomas Laycock; Richard Owen; Martin Barry; W.B. Carpenter (convert); T.H. importing styles George Newport; E.S. Forbes; Marshall Hall; Huxley; George Allman (convert); George Busk; T. Rymer Jones Charles Darwin (convert)

Exemplary scientific fields Lavoisier’s chemistry; Geoffroy’s comparative anat- Comparative philology; Ethnology; Geological uni- omy; Gall’s phrenology formitarianism; Paleontology

Focused life research questions Reﬂex theory; Homologizing; Cephalisation; Reca- Von Baerian embryology; sexual reproduction; pitulationist embryology; Parthenogenesis/Metagen- Darwinian descent with modiﬁcation esis STYLES OF REASONING IN EARLY TO MID-VICTORIAN LIFE RESEARCH

Analysis:Synthesis Part 1: Analysis

Let us begin by dividing the style of analysis:synthesis into its own respective components of analysis and synthesis. Analysis disintegrated systems into their simplest elements. Following the Cartesian method, Etienne Bonnot de Condillac stated that a machine could be best known by decomposing it and studying each part separately; when the parts were put back, the entire machine would be known perfectly. Analysis was important in Lavoisier’s chemistry and Cuvier’s functional anatomy, with Lavoisier crediting Condillac’s method for his success.14 Other early 19th century life researches using analysis:synthesis included botany (Augustin-Pyramus de Candolle), morphology (Geoffroy Saint-Hi- laire), and organology/phrenology (Franz-Josef Gall).15 Pickstone notes how analysis largely occurred in the physical site of museums. Places such as the Museúm d’Histoire Naturelle were founded or reformed upon analytical lines, gathering researchers, specialized tools, money and collections in one location.16 We can build on his point: museums helped define research problems by entrenching analysis:synthesis. This term ‘entrenchment’ implies that museums were shaped by myriad research choices and practical considerations; these sites were the physical manifestations of small, local commitments to learn about organisms by disintegrating them. This crystallization reinforced the utility of analysis:synthesis, making it more reliable and channeling people’s expectations that good life research would be carried out analytically:synthetically.17 Many Britons saw analysis:synthesis as originating in France. Yet many French authors saw it as having British roots – their favorite example of analysis:synthesis being Isaac Newton’s use of prisms to

14 Condillac, 1980, pp. 79–81; Pickstone, 2001, pp. 84–85; Bechtel and Richardson, 1993, pp. 18–21; Simon, 2002, pp. 3–4. 15 Elements were not reducible into different domains – thus mental faculties would not be reduced into chemical compounds. Pickstone, 1994, p. 117; Albury, 1977, pp. 90– 91. 16 Pickstone, 1994, pp. 117–118, 123–124; Appel, 1987, pp. 11, 18. Pickstone includes teaching hospitals as ‘‘museological institutions,’’ ‘‘collecting’’ patients and classifying them by universal diseases instead of by individual humoral imbalances. 17 On the entrenchment and ‘crystallization’ of research strategies I have been informed by Gerson, 1998, pp. 26–28, Bourdieu, 1999, p. 36, and Schank and Wimsatt, 1986. JAMES ELWICK disintegrate white light into its constituent colors, then reconstitute that spectrum into white light again.18 In the late 1820s analysis:synthesis appeared or returned to London in great strength, because many British researchers who had studied in Parisian medical schools and museums came back to London. Others came down to London from Francophile Edinburgh medical schools, as noted by Adrian Desmond. Indeed, ‘‘philosophical’’ or ‘‘transcendental anatomy’’ might be seen as analytic:synthetic, where bodies were depicted as collections of – and anatomized into – simple, universal, and comparable parts. Figure 1 shows how social networks and styles of reasoning were intertwined: all were commitments of one form or another. Those using analysis:synthesis in the late 1820s and early 1830s ranged from Radical to Conservative.19 They were unified by a sense of inferiority to French science; amidst fears about a British ‘decline of science,’ they imported analysis:synthesis from France to reform British science. It is significant that museums sprouted up in Britain from the late 1820s onward, in what Nicolaas Rupke has aptly called ‘‘the age of museums’’ – during Richard Owen’s lifetime (1804–1892), some 200 British museums were built or renovated.20 I suggest that one reason for this was to facilitate analysis:synthesis. From workplaces we can move to technical issues. Analysis: synthesis shaped various researches, including the neurosciences, classification, comparative anatomy, development, and reproduction. Findings in one field shaped others – neuroanatomical discoveries were deployed to explain why complicated animals did not easily regenerate. It is thus important to draw connections between these contemporaneous topics.

18 Thus d’Alembert’s article ‘‘Analytic’’ in the Encyclope´die cited Newton’s decom- position of white light into the rainbow as an example, quoting from the Opticks. A common use of analysis:synthesis might also explain why certain researchers were depicted as the ‘‘Newton’’ of their ﬁelds. Bichat sought to become the ‘‘Newton’’ of physiology; meanwhile Bentham was described as the Newton of the moral world by Thomas Southwood Smith (recall Bentham’s attempt to explain all ethics as the interplay simply of pain and pleasure). Albury, 1972, pp. 60–64, 230. Webb, 2004, p. 312. 19 Conservative Francophobic analysts, however, tended to emphasize its British roots. 20 Rupke, 1994, pp. 13–14. Relevant museums include the British Museum (renovated 1837); the Museum of Practical Geology (founded 1835, moved in 1848); the Hunterian Museum (renovated 1836); and the Cambridge University Museum of Anatomy (moved to an enlarged location in 1832). STYLES OF REASONING IN EARLY TO MID-VICTORIAN LIFE RESEARCH

J Q i 183 1830

183 on Jones 1835

M. Barry

184 1840

184 1845

nfrey

185 1850 T.H. Huxley

ANALYSIS:SYNTHESIS PALAETIOLOGY

Figure 1. Some Life Researcher Commitments, 1830–1850. JAMES ELWICK

The Analysis of the Nervous System

In the 1830s and 1840s, British researchers sought to reveal the simplest possible elements of the nervous system. They followed Cuvier by using nervous structure to classify. And this principle underlay any ideological disagreements. On this Adrian Desmond’s exemplar Radical comparative anatomist, Robert Grant, was similar to Desmond’s exemplar Conservative anatomist, Richard Owen. Grant renamed the four different Cuvierian embranchements by using their nervous structure as an index.21 Desmond explains this by pointing to Grant’s Lamarckian transmutationism, claiming that Grant sought to unify Cuvier’s four separate groups into a single series.22 But the anti-Lamarckian Owen also used the nervous system in the same way – he coined new terms, such as ‘‘homogangliata’’ and ‘‘heterogangliata’’, which denoted two natural animal groupings.23 This use of nervous structure by ideological opposites – both in 1836 – reveals problems other than the support or dismissal of transmutation. In that same year, Owen explicitly noted that he was following Cuvier’s method: Cuvier deemed the animal’s primary characteristic to be ‘‘sensibility,’’ a property best revealed by its nervous system.24 Owen’s contemporaries also thought that using the nervous system as a taxonomic index was useful: one of Grant’s reviewers thought that this method was ‘‘generally admitted by comparative anatomists’’ to be best.25 The brain researcher Samuel Solly used Grant’s system, also in 1836. Later, Owen’s prote´ge´, Thomas Rymer Jones of King’s College London, noted how Owen, Grant and Cuvier all used the nervous system for a ‘‘more natural method of classiﬁcation’’.26 The ‘ganglia’ to which Cuvier, Owen, Jones and Grant referred was a useful ‘‘element’’ because it was the simplest possible unit that compounded into increasingly complex nervous structures. In the 1830s and 1840s the ganglion was seen as a nervous ‘‘knot’’ made of gray

21 Thus Grant renamed Vertebrata the ‘‘Spini-Cerebrata’’; Mollusca the ‘‘Cyclogan- gliata’’; Articulata the ‘‘Diplo-Neura’’; and Radiata the ‘‘Cyclo-Neura.’’ Grant, 1836, pp. 107–108. 22 Desmond, 1989, pp. 86–87. 23 ‘‘Homogangliata’’ (Cuvier’s Articulata) denoted the repeating ganglion in each segment; ‘‘Heterogangliata’’ (Cuvier’s Mollusca), their irregular dispersion. Owen, 1836b, p. 547. 24 Owen, 1836a, p. 244. On Cuvier’s use of the nervous system for hierarchical clas- siﬁcation, see Coleman, 1964, pp. 85–91. 25 Anonymous, 1835, p. 381. 26 Solly, 1836, p. 4; Jones, 1841, p. 3. Jones also included John Hunter in this group. STYLES OF REASONING IN EARLY TO MID-VICTORIAN LIFE RESEARCH

‘‘neurine’’ – a tissue providing nervous power. Though there were disagreements about how far the term Ôganglion’ ought to be extended, researchers increasingly saw all of the nervous system – including the brain and spinal column – as compounded ganglia.27 Simpler animals had more decentralized nervous systems – the lower the organism, the more dispersed its ganglia. Ganglia were often depicted as subordinate brains, because their dispersion explained why the separated body parts of simpler invertebrates could move independently. The distributed ganglia of centipedes were described in Jones’s standard textbook as ‘‘so many brains presiding’’ over nerve functions, while Cambridge Pro- fessor of Anatomy William Clark described ganglia as ‘‘subsidiary brains.’’28 Owen also noted that ganglia performed ‘‘the function of so many brains and for a certain period [were] suﬃcient for nervous sensibility after the animal has been cut in pieces.’’29 This applied to vertebrates too. Herbert Mayo – prote´ge´-turned- enemy of Sir Charles Bell, author of several well-regarded textbooks, and Professor of Anatomy at King’s College London by 1830 – concluded that each segment of the vertebrate spinal cord was comparable to the ganglion of an invertebrate segment. In 1842 he even noted that surgically bisected animals could become two ‘‘sentient beings’’ – if only for an instant. (Invoking the judgment of Solomon, an incredulous reviewer invited Mayo to try).30 Indeed, one way to determine if a researcher was an analyst is to see if he openly mused about the pos- sibility of compound individuality – whether certain lower organisms were actually aggregates of subordinate agents, such as ganglia-brains.

27 Solly, 1836, pp. 15–16; Grainger, 1839, p. 371; Owen, 1836a, pp. 244–245; Jacyna, 1984, pp. 70–72. 28 Clark, 1835, pp. 102–103; Jones, 1841, p. 692. For Jones’s popularity see Desmond, 1989, p. 274. 29 Owen saw Cuvier as partly founding the group Articulata upon the ‘‘divisibility of the body, and the power which the fragments possess of retaining a kind of independent vitality corresponds to the distribution of the nervous system into as many centres as there are corporeal fragments.’’ Owen, 1836a pp. 244–245. He also noted Virey’s method, in Owen, Deﬁnitions from Museum Lectures on the Animal Kingdom, ND, OPAP, RCS. On compound individuality see Elwick, 2003, pp. 50–53; Elwick, 2005. 30 Mayo, 1833, pp. 230–231, 220–222; Mayo, 1842, pp. 28–29; Anonymous, 1842, 20, 22. JAMES ELWICK

For the analyst of the 1830s and 1840s, compound individuality was a valid problem.31 Meanwhile, neurophysiology reinforced compound individuality. In addition to being materialist, Hall’s 1837 reflex doctrine can also be seen as analytic:synthetic. Following L.S. Jacyna, I suggest that the reflex arc was the simplest neurophysiological element, mediated by the simplest neuroanatomical element of the ganglion: all behavior was made of compounded reflexes. Ganglia were redefined as centers that mediated reflex arcs. Demonstrations on invertebrates played an important role in gaining acceptance for the reflex arc.32 Just as simpler invertebrates were shown to have more decentralized nervous systems, so too was their behavior deemed more ‘reflex’ and involuntary. Conversely, the reflex arc was deployed to explain complex human mental activities. In 1844, Thomas Laycock proposed that human consciousness was a series of increasingly compounded reflexes. An analyst, Laycock was a phrenological sympathizer who denied the existence of a single perceptual center, a sensorium commune or ‘seat of the soul.’ Instead mental activity emanated from the interaction of separate mental faculties. Laycock later replaced phrenological mental faculties with ganglia, citing the dispersed nervous systems of invertebrates as evidence of human nervous structure and function.33 Figure 1 shows Laycock’s place in a network of analytic:synthetic life researchers. In the early 1830s Laycock took Robert Grant’s comparative anatomy lectures at London University, telling the phrenologist George Combe that he was Grant’s favorite pupil. His classmates

31 Briefly, I suspect that one reason why beliefs in compound individuality accom- panied the style of analysis:synthesis was because that style delegated agency to lower levels of organization. For a researcher to gain clarity and certainty, relationships between components of a system were treated as properties of those components. That is, when one analytically disintegrated a system, one ignored that the system’s elements were members of a larger system with its own peculiar properties arising out of those relationships. Instead those relationships were depicted either as belonging to each individual unit, or as irrelevant. When one then synthetically compounded those units back into a system, that system was reinterpreted as a population of unrelated elements instead of related members of a whole. For instance, consciousness was seen as the byproduct of each ganglion; life was seen as the aggregate result of tissue or cellular activity. For this clarification I am indebted to Eli Gerson. See Albury, 1977, pp. 90–91, who notes Bichat’s depiction of the entire organism’s life as nothing more than the contribution of each tissue; on this, Bichat was assessed by Huxley, 1894, pp. 3:366–367. 32 Jacyna, 1982, p. 235. Thus see Carpenter, 1838; Newport, 1843, p. 264; Anony- mous, 1845, p. 496. Elwick, 2005 notes Newport’s millipede vivisections in more detail. 33 Laycock, 1845; Laycock, 1847; Seccombe, 1892; Leys, 1990, p. 316; See Laycock’s musings on ‘‘composite animals’’ in Laycock, 1976, pp. 2:243–246, 259–260. STYLES OF REASONING IN EARLY TO MID-VICTORIAN LIFE RESEARCH included George Newport and William B. Carpenter. Carpenter also extended the reflex arc to higher mental operations, coining such terms as ‘‘afferent’’ and ‘‘efferent’’; in the early 1840s he convinced his then- patron Owen to use the reflex arc.34 Grant’s other pupils included Peter Mark Roget (of Thesaurus fame, but who also wrote a Bridgewater Treatise on physiology), and William Baly (translator of Johannes Mu¨ller’s Elements of Physiology).35

Analysis:Synthesis Part 2: ‘Development’ as Synthesis

Synthesis is the reverse of analysis, integrating separate pieces into a whole. In an 1842 paper Etienne Augustin Serres declared the comparative anatomist to be an analyst, using dissection and maceration to disintegrate his specimen: ‘‘Association has united and as it were confounded the elements entering into their composition; disassociation isolates and separates them anew; art acts in an inverse sense to nature.’’36 Pre-von Baerian embryologists, then, saw development as synthesis. It was akin to metamorphosis. Analysts might decompose parts like the nervous system into its elementary units, but nature itself syn- thesized ganglia together, forming compounded nervous structures. Like Cuvier, Serres also used the nervous system to classify animals, in 1824 associating simpler systems with younger animals. Thus mature molluscs and immature insects (larvae) both had a nervous system with two separate strands of ganglia and nerve ﬁbers. Parallels could be drawn between those two animals. As the insect larva continued to metamorphose, however, its two strands fusing and concentrating around its esophagus, it could be portrayed as moving ‘past’ the dispersed mollusc nervous system. This recapitulationist process – of nervous systems fusing and concentrating in the head, in both the individual and in the group – was later called ‘‘cephalisation.’’37 Serres was particularly insistent on the direction in which the embryo developed. The embryo did not start from a central point and then ramify outward – instead, the parts of the embryo appeared at a number

34 Carpenter and Carpenter, 1889, pp. 10, 22; Leys, 1990, pp. 310–311, 228; James, 1996, pp. 23–24; W.B. Carpenter to R. Owen, 26 Jun 1842, OCORR, NHM, 6/302–303. 35 Roget, 1834; Mu¨ller, 1838–1843. 36 Serres, 1842b, p. 116. 37 Serres, 1824, pp. 379–380. The OED notes ‘‘cephalisation’’ was coined in 1861 by James D. Dana to describe animals’ tendency to concentrate their nervous systems into heads as they developed. JAMES ELWICK of independent points and then fused inward. Organs placed along what was to become the embryo’s central axis started out double or multiple, then fused together into a single unit. Single and dispersed nerves appeared first, then fused into a nervous cord. Serres contrasted this direction of ‘‘centripetal’’ embryological development against what he saw as the obsolete Hallerian ‘‘centrifugal’’ direction. He proclaimed that the law of centrifugal development – which in his eyes supported pre-existence – was refuted, replaced by the law of epigenesis.38 Yet by epigenesis, Serres did not mean differentiation and specialization. The dichotomy of preformationism versus epigenesis overlooks this crucial directional difference. In Britain, Serres was enthusiastically taken up; his work supported Cuvier’s belief that the nervous system provided a taxonomic key. Thus one 1828 reviewer noted that ‘‘The more the volume of the brain exceeds that of the spinal cord, the higher the animal is placed in the scale of being.’’ Other reviewers celebrated Serres’s ‘‘‘Centripetal or Eccentric Theory of Development,’’’ and scolded other British researchers for assuming that the brains and nervous cords appeared before nerves. Didn’t they know that development occurred in the opposite order and direction?39 In the 1834 edition of his well-known Elements of Anatomy (celebrating Condillac’s method, Elements was explicitly a work of ‘‘Analytical Anatomy’’), the London University Professor of General Anatomy, Jones Quain, noted that ‘‘the fruit of modern research’’ showed how embryos started out as separate parts, which then fused together.40 Robert Grant’s 1833 London University comparative anatomy lectures also emphasized the nervous system becoming more complex and concentrated as it developed. Appearing in the Lancet, his lessons noted how organs showed the comparative anatomist that the animal kingdom developed ‘‘from simple to compound.’’41 And he drummed this message into his students in other ways. Questions on his July 1831 London University exam included ‘‘Where do you find the Nervous System begin to manifest itself in ascending through the animal kingdom; and what are the principal forms it assumes in the different classes, before you arrive at animals possessing a Brain?’’ and ‘‘State the changes which are observed to take place in the Nervous System of

38 Serres, 1842a, p. 19; Russell, 1982, p. 81; Appel, 1987, pp. 122–123. 39 Smith, 1828a, p. 186; Smith, 1828b, p. 459; Anonymous, 1837, pp. 87–88; Anon- ymous, 1840a, pp. 234–235. 40 Quain, 1834, pp. v–vi, 16–19. 41 Grant, 1833, pp. 44–45; Grant, 1833–1834, pp. 1:399–400. STYLES OF REASONING IN EARLY TO MID-VICTORIAN LIFE RESEARCH

Insects during their metamorphosis to the Pupa and the insect state’’.42 Those trained by Grant, including Carpenter, Laycock, Newport, Baly and Roget, would likely have had to answer these, or similar, questions. The former question, about the manifestation of the nervous system, was worth the most marks on the exam. The latter question, about the appearance of the nervous system in insects, was followed by some similar 1834 Royal Medal winning researches by former student George Newport. In fact they were so similar that Grant later accused Newport of plagiarizing from him and from continental entomologists like Pierre Lyonet.43 Meanwhile an anonymous review of Joseph Swan’s 1836 textbook on the nervous system charged Swan with neglecting New- port’s 1834 Royal Medal work, as well as research by Swammerdam, Lyonet again, Herold, Meckel, Steviranus, Dufour, Straus-Durckheim, Weber, Audoin and Milne Edwards.44 The speciﬁcs of the charges matter less than the larger point that cephalisation was very widely used.

Regeneration as Reproduction, Reproduction as Regeneration

Focused on the simplest elements of the body, analytical life researchers do not seem to have strongly distinguished between sexual and asexual reproduction. Indeed the OED shows that the London botanist John Lindley was the first to use the term ‘‘asexual’’, and only in 1830. ‘‘Asex- ual’’ was imported into zoology in 1858, by G.H. Lewes, to refer to how the simplest marine invertebrates reproduced. Before ‘‘asexual’’ was used in British zoology, then, researchers often used the word ‘‘vegetative’’ reproduction, denoting not so much an activity as an inherent power. This ‘‘vegetative’’ power was strongest in lower animals like ‘‘zoophytes’’ (animal–plants), for like plants, they could make copies of themselves by shoots, cuttings or graftings. Owen was especially interested in this ‘‘vegetative’’ power. In his annotated copy of his 1843 Lectures on Invertebrates, he bracketed his own passage: ‘‘Wishing to ascertain if the vegetative power was inexhaustible, Bonnet cut off the head of one of these worms, and, as soon as the new head was com- pleted, he repeated the act; after the eighth decapitation the unhappy subject was released by death, – the execution took effect – the reproductive virtue had been worn out...’’. Owen placed two exclamation

42 Questions from Grant’s exam, Sat, 8 July 1831, from Freeman, 1964, pp. 9–11. 43 The charges in the 1837–1838 Lancet include Newport, 1837–38a; Newport, 1837– 38b; Newport, 1837–38c; Newport, 1837–38d; Grant, 1837–38a; Grant, 1837–38b; Hall, 1837; Hall, 1837–38. 44 Anonymous, 1836, p. 437. JAMES ELWICK marks next to this section, penciling in, ‘‘Dalyell succeeded in artiﬁcially propagating a Sabella [a marine worm] in the same way’’45 Plants and simpler animals such as the exemplary Hydra polyp of Abraham Trembley were thus seen not merely as structurally similar – both sessile, with branching shapes - but also as reproductively similar. They were compoundly individual. In 1833, Lindley stated that a tree – a ‘‘congeries of vital systems, acting indeed in concert, but to a great degree independent of each other... [with] myriads of seats of life’’ – resembled a polyp. In that same year, Grant likened polyps to trees, and in the following year Roget’s Bridgewater Treatise in physiology noted how most researchers saw plants and polyps as aggregations of individuals. Roget cited Erasmus Darwin on this point, although like Newport he also allegedly plagiarized from Grant. Scottish researchers Allen Thomson and John Dalyell invoked the polyp-plant likeness. So too did Owen, who in this claimed to follow the legendary father of British surgery and natural history, John Hunter.46 Hence Charles Darwin was in no way unusual when in 1838 he mused about trees as ‘‘great compound animals united by wonderful and mysterious manner’’, or when he compared the ‘‘tree of life’’ to the ‘‘coral of life’’.47 The term ÔreproductionÕ was often used in place of the word ÔregenerationÕ. The ability of, say, lobsters to regenerate lost limbs was an instance of vegetative reproduction. George Newport thus entitled one paper ‘‘On the Reproduction of Lost Parts in Myriapoda and In- secta.’’ And as President of the Entomological Society in 1844, he identiﬁed this problem as one of high importance.48 The subject’s most promising young researcher was John Goodsir’s brother Harry, who

45 R. Owen, 1843, Lectures on the Comparative Anatomy and Physiology of the Invertebrate Animals (Annotated copy), OCORR, NHM, 7, p. 144. 46 Lindley, 1833, p. 32; Roget, 1834, p. 1:89fn; Thomson, 1839, pp. 424–425; Dalyell, 1847, pp. 1:5–7; Owen, 1837, p. 4:xxviii. 47 Darwin, 1987, M41 p. 589. This entry is dated about autumn 1838. See also footnote 41-1, on Erasmus Darwin’s note on the resemblance between the tree – a ‘‘congeries of living buds,’’ and the coralline (a marine invertebrate) – a ‘‘congeries of a multitude of animals.’’ For ‘‘coral of life’’, idem, B25–26:177, written some time in 1837–1838. M.J.S. Hodge and Phillip Sloan both show how Darwin the ‘‘generation theorist’’ linked zoophytes with trees, seeing both as bud-colonies; this allowed him to reinterpret entities across levels of organization. Species were deemed similar to individuals; buds and cells were likened to individuals or species. Hodge, 1985, pp. 209–213; Sloan, 2002. 48 Newport, 1844a, p. 5; Newport, 1844b; Newport, 1845. STYLES OF REASONING IN EARLY TO MID-VICTORIAN LIFE RESEARCH investigated precisely where new limbs budded on crustaceans.49 Unfortunately in 1845, Harry Goodsir went to the Arctic on the ill-fated Franklin Expedition. A naval assistant-surgeon like Huxley, Goodsir was never heard from again. Others were also interested in the reproduction of limbs. Richard Owen (in addition to his interest in Bonnet’s and Dalyell’s work) cor- responded with Welsh researcher John Blackwall, who cut oﬀ spider limbs to study their regeneration.50 Owen’s proposal of dueling morphological forces can be situated in these local research problems, in addition to any naturphilosophie. From above Owen proposed the workings of the teleological ‘‘adaptive force’’; from below came ‘‘vegetative repetition,’’ which caused phenomena like serial homology. Nicolaas Rupke thinks that Owen chose the term ‘‘vegetative repetition’’ because repeating body structures (segments, vertebrae) hinted at the same structure as a plant, such as plant leaves.51 I suggest we go further: Owen’s ‘‘vegetative repetition’’ in animals was caused by the same kind of force at work in plants.52 More serial homology meant that lower animals were more plant-like. Owen held that lower animals and plants exhibited greater vegetative repetition. This repetition meant that lower animals were also far more compoundly individual. In On Parthenogenesis, he noted that polyps were the individual digestive organs of a ‘‘compound organism’’, like plant leaves. In 1848, writing to his Oxford friend, the Reverend Daniel Conybeare, Owen used a tapeworm to illustrate vegetative repetition: it could have hundreds of segments, of which no individual segment was so important to the entire worm that its removal would harm the entire animal. A segment might even survive on its own. But if the adaptive force grew stronger, each segment lost its independence, becoming part of a larger group-individual; its removal would harm or kill the rest of the tapeworm’s segments because of their new mutual dependence.53

49 Goodsir, 1844a; Goodsir, 1844b; also Harry Goodsir, ‘‘The mode of reproduction of lost parts in the crustacea,’’ pp. 74–78, in Goodsir and Goodsir, 1845. Goodsir was also Conservator of the Museum of the Royal College of Surgeons in Edinburgh. 50 Blackwall, 1848. On their correspondence see Gruber and Thackray, 1992, pp. 36– 37. 51 Rupke, 1994, p. 197. 52 Whewell saw science emerging from the interplay of ideas and things, and Phillip Sloan thinks Owen was inspired by Whewell’s ‘‘antithetical’’ methodology, particularly in his proposal of two duelling morphological forces. This is if we see Whewell as ‘‘pontiﬁcating’’ on how science ought to be carried out. Fisch, 1991; Sloan, 2003. 53 Owen, 1849, p. 56; R. Owen to W.D. Conybeare (Draft), 13 Mar 1848, OPAP, RCS. JAMES ELWICK

Thus Owen’s adaptive force was not simply teleological. It was also integrating, which for him solved the problem of compound individuality. This also explains his proposal of parthenogenesis, where less complex organisms had more vegetative reproductive power, and thus a greater regenerative ability. Frederick Churchill has explained Owen’s proposal of parthenogenesis as emphasizing sexual reproduction. But sex should not be overemphasized – for Owen replaced the word ‘‘parthenogenesis’’ with ‘‘metagenesis’’ by 1851. Owen favored this new term, for it better conveyed a process of metamorphosis spanning different individuals, a kind of ‘metamorphosis-plus.’54

W.B. Carpenter and the Growth of Palaetiology

Famously, Owen’s work on parthenogenesis was later savaged by T.H. Huxley as overly mystical and mired in confusion.55 Yet at the time analysts welcomed Owen’s proposal. Edward Forbes especially enjoyed Owen’s lectures on parthenogenesis, for he too had speculated about compound individuality and the polyp – plant resemblance.56 One key dissenter from Owenian doctrine was William B. Carpenter. In 1846 he was an analyst, discussing cephalization in a landmark paper.57 But by 1848 he had switched to palaetiology. This mid-career switch was partly because of a social acquaintance with fellow Bristolian James Cowles Prichard, to whom Carpenter looked up ‘‘with an almost ﬁlial reverence and gratitude.’’ Prichard was an important palaetiologist: Whewell himself noted that Charles Lyell cited Prichard’s 1813 ethnological Researches into the Physical History of Man more fre- quently than any geology book. In 1848, Carpenter penned an anonymous and glowing Edinburgh Review piece about Prichard’s Researches. Carpenter described how Prichard’s ethnology was similar to philology: both sciences were genealogical, showing that both languages and races fanned out from common origins and a geographic center. Carpenter even cited tree-like images of descent, quoting one philologist who thought that we would learn more about languages by learning about

54 Churchill, 1979, p. 150; Owen, 1851. In October 1851 Owen was congratulated by Julius Victor Carus for this name change, because metagenesis ‘‘wonderfully’’ expressed the analogous German word, ‘‘Generationweschel.’’ J.V. Carus to R. Owen, 1 Oct 1851, OCORR, NHM, 6/365–366. See also Steenstrup, 1845. 55 Huxley, 1858, pp. 537–538. 56 E. Forbes to R. Owen, [1848], OCORR, NHM, 12/320–323; Forbes, 1844. 57 [Carpenter], 1846, pp. 503–504. STYLES OF REASONING IN EARLY TO MID-VICTORIAN LIFE RESEARCH

‘‘...the roots, and by the application of the principle of secondary formation, overgrowing, sometimes luxuriantly, the ancient stock of roots.’’58 From this review onward, Carpenter applied the image of life forms and other phenomena spreading out from a central origin-point. Meanwhile Carpenter grew bolder at opposing Owen because of a simmering priority dispute. Who had ﬁrst used von Baerian embryological principles in Britain, after its introduction by Martin Barry in 1837? In 1840, Carpenter was credited by a reviewer for doing this. But in the late 1840s and early 1850s Owen pressured Carpenter to give way; Owen claimed to have ﬁrst used it in 1843.59 This alienated Carpenter, desperate to be seen as an ‘‘independent discoverer’’, not just a textbook-compiler.60 Carpenter used palaetiology to emphasize a new distinction between what we now call sexual and asexual reproduction. In 1848 and 184961 he anonymously portrayed Owen’s parthenogenetic musings as confused. Owen had claimed that parthenogenesis explained the mystery of the ‘‘alternation of generations’’: why successive ‘‘generations’’ of different morphological types were produced in the same species. For instance an aphid of type A produced a series of aphids of type B, which eventually gave rise to type A again. But Carpenter claimed that the word ‘‘generation’’ shouldn’t refer to a morphological form but to an activity. Here, I build on John Farley’s interpretation.62 Carpenter used Martin Barry’s 1837 statement that British researchers were looking at the tree of life from the wrong direction – that since

58 Whewell, 1967a, pp. 3:397–399; [Carpenter], 1848a,b, pp. 432–433, 473–474, 477. In the point on American languages, Carpenter quotes Chevalier Bunsen’s 1848 BAAS report. On ‘‘Filial reverence’’ see Carpenter and Carpenter, 1889, p. 26. 59 This raises the question: since Owen used von Baerian principles, why can’t he be considered a palaetiologist? Answer: first, partly because he used von Baerian principles for different purposes – to sort out the resemblance or identity of static body parts. Owen used von Baer to distinguish between the homology (identity) and mere analogy (functional resemblance) of two body parts – homologies could exist only between adults of the same embranchement. Richards, 1977, p. 218; Panchen, 1994, p. 50; Rupke, 1994, pp. 153, 170. Second: partly because he used von Baerian principles incorrectly. Evelleen Richards also maintains that Owen misunderstood von Baer until he had read Huxley’s 1853 translation of Entwicklungsgeschichte, a point raised by Huxley himself. Richards, 1987, pp. 142–143. For Carpenter being credited with first use of von Baer, see Anonymous, 1840b, pp. 112–113; on the priority dispute see W.B. Carpenter to R. Owen, 20 Oct 1851 OCORR, NHM 6/333–334, and 2 Aug 1853 OCORR, NHM 6/335– 336. 60 For Carpenter’s need to be seen as an ‘‘independent discoverer’’ see W.B. Carpenter to R. Owen, 2 Aug 1853 OCORR, NHM 6/335–336. 61 [Carpenter], 1848b; [Carpenter], 1849. 62 Farley, 1982, pp. 80–81. JAMES ELWICK development was now known to occur in a centrifugal direction from a single point, what now counted was the origins and beginnings of animals – in the case of zoophytes, precisely how and where they reproduced.63 In the analytic:synthetic view, plants and lower invertebrates were disintegrated into nominally independent components, with agency delegated to each part. This made the question of compound individuality viable. But Carpenter used palaetiology to redefine the biological individual as the entire product of a sexually fertilized ovum – a new historicist definition of individuality. Though admitting that cells and body parts often possessed ‘‘independent vitality’’, he stated that this independence should no longer be the criterion for biological individuality. The agency of parts was no longer important. More subtly, Carpenter rejected any ‘‘vegetative’’ reproductive power, deeming this simplistic. He instead distinguished between two modes of plant reproduction – ‘‘gemmiparous’’ reproduction (the budding of new cells) and ‘‘oviparous’’ reproduction (occurring only in germs produced by special organs, such as flowers). Oviparous reproduction happened only after two sexual organs interacted. In turn, two kinds of reproduction meant two kinds of reproductive parts. Gem- miparous generation took place in buds; oviparous generation happened in ova. Frederick Churchill sees this as a fundamental distinction, yet while this is now obvious to us, at least two of Carpenter’s contemporaries had trouble with his division. Carpenter claimed that the only way to distinguish between the two parts was how they reproduced. While the bud had its own spontaneous power of producing new tissues, an ovum was matter ‘‘not yet organized’’ and could develop only after impregnation.64 But if sex could not be observed, then how could any distinction be made between the two parts? A more charitable way to look at Carpenter’s point is to see it as shaped by how evidence was used. Carpenter’s distinction between the two kinds of germs and their modes of reproduction could only be appreciated by other researchers who watched those germs change over time. His point could only be appreciated by those who were able to see the same kinds of processes at work. In turn this emphasizes the importance of how evidence was kept, and in turn the places where that evidence was kept. This brings us to palaetiological sites – ‘‘vivaria,’’ controlled environments that housed living specimens.

63 [Carpenter], 1848b, pp. 188–189. He paraphrased from Barry, 1837b, pp. 362–364. 64 [Carpenter], 1848b, pp. 188–189, 192–194, 204–205; Churchill, 1979, pp. 150– 151. STYLES OF REASONING IN EARLY TO MID-VICTORIAN LIFE RESEARCH

To bolster his novel claims, Carpenter extensively cited the work carried out by Scottish baronet Sir John Dalyell.65 Dalyell was one of the first British researchers to extensively use glass vessels for the long- term observation of the marine creatures he collected from the seashore, for he believed that hasty scrutiny caused the most mistakes in natural history. Field work at tidal pools and on dredging expeditions was time consuming, and offered only snapshot glimpses of these creatures. But used properly, Dalyell’s glass vessels allowed observations to be made over months or even years. To use Matthew Goodrum’s evocative image, these glass vessels allowed tidal pools to be uprooted and brought indoors. The entire marine organism life cycle could now be observed. Specimens could be separated from one another too. Hence John Lubbock later used ‘‘vivaria’’ to keep male Daphnia (water fleas) separate from female ones to determine whether sexual reproduction had in fact occurred. Without such isolation one could not distinguish between sexual and asexual reproduction in these animals.66 To be sure, places such as the Museúm d’Histoire Naturelle had attached zoos and gardens. How, then, did museums differ from vivaria? Museums were places where unchanging, not alive, organisms or organs were disintegrated into simpler and smaller pieces. In this light, places like the Museúm’s zoological gardens provided spectacles for the public and specimens for analysts, such as comparative anatomists. One key distinction can be found in the uses to which those gardens were put. In one British case – the Zoological Society – Sir Stamford Raffles provided money both for a park and a museum. But the park was to be used to restock aristocrats’ hunting and fishing grounds just as much as it was to help British natural history. In the late 1820s and early 1830s, it was the Society’s museum that was the center for London scientific reformers.67 Another key distinction between a museum’s gardens and a vivarium is the degree of control exerted over a specimen’s environment: my case of hard-to-study marine invertebrates better highlights the differences. Vivaria not only facilitated the close observation of living specimens by keeping them alive and isolated; they allowed researchers to manage those specimens’ surroundings (tem- perature; salinity; nutrients; brightness; living space).

65 Thus [Carpenter], 1848b, pp. 196–198. 66 Lubbock, 1857, pp. 79–81; Goodrum, 1997, pp. 278–283. 67 Desmond, 1985, pp. 232–233. See Booth, 1839, pp. 57–58 for the initial purpose of the Zoological Society – the domestication (and consumption) of non-native animals. JAMES ELWICK

In the case of marine animals, vivaria were usually built out of expensive glass. David Allen notes how Dalyell could afford to have ‘‘capacious glass vessels’’ made despite high taxes on glass (making it four times as expensive as its production cost). Dalyell also had to have seawater carted to his Edinburgh residence each morning, another costly undertaking. Yet because of his vivaria, he could observe the Prome- thean recoveries of his hydroid specimens: in 550 days he cut 22 hydroids that regenerated from the single stem of a branched marine invertebrate. In a single evening Dalyell watched a sea anemone produce 230 young.68 Glass vessels also meant that specimens could survive in the heart of a city. In addition to aquaria (then called an ‘‘aqua-vivarium’’) the best-known vivaria were Wardian cases, first built in 1829 by Nathaniel Ward; these were sealed environments allowing plants to be grown even in polluted city centers. After 1829, Ward found that animals such as goldfish and even a robin could live inside them for long periods. Wardian cases were made famous at the 1851 Great Exhibition. On this list one can include other kinds of vivaria, such as artificial incubation machines: one 1839 London guidebook advertises the ‘‘Eicallobion’’ located at 121 Pall-Mall, where observers could break sequences of eggs, examining birds in their ‘‘‘nascent or partly formed state’’’ for a shilling a break.69 The more that creatures’ entire life cycles could be observed, the more that palaetiology was strengthened. But even in the late 1840s, when Carpenter made his novel points, there were fewer vivaria than museums. This implies that researchers were less familiar with palaetiological evidence. Instead it would have been far easier to work with pickled marine invertebrates fished out of spirit-filled glass jars. Perhaps this is why Carpenter was quickly rejected by contemporaries. To someone looking at the reproductive parts of dead specimens preserved in alcohol, it would be difficult to grasp Carpenter’s notion of ‘‘generation’’ as an activity; his distinction between ‘‘buds’’ and ‘‘ova’’; or his view of biological individuality as the sum total of the contents of a sexually fertilized ovum. He was criticized by the Scottish physiologist Allen Thomson and by Edward Forbes, both of whom were unable to

68 This particular sea anemone, called ‘‘Grannie’’ for its fecundity, lived to be 66 years old, surviving Dalyell by 36 years. It was obituarized in The Times and The Scotsman. Allen, 1976, p. 132; Dalyell, 1847, pp. 1:36–37; Dalyell, 2004, p. 8. John Reid, also of Edinburgh, kept marine invertebrates in vivaria too, maintaining one jellyfish colony for at least 17 months in the 1840s. Reid, 1848, pp. 25–26, 33–34. 69 Booth, 1839; Anonymous, 1851, pp. 1: 466–467. STYLES OF REASONING IN EARLY TO MID-VICTORIAN LIFE RESEARCH acknowledge Carpenter’s evidence and his new definition of an individual.70 They saw his proposal was bizarre or unnecessary – the definition of biological individuality as independence worked well enough for them. In 1848 and 1849 Carpenter failed to get much support. But over the next seven years palaetiology came to challenge analysis:synthesis as a useful style for life researchers. During this time vivaria began to spread throughout Britain – made cheaper by the removal of the glass tax in 1845, publicized at the Great Exhibition, and exemplified in the opening of the 1853 ‘‘Fish House’’ marine aquarium at the Zoological Gardens. In that same year, Philip Henry Gosse told the readers of his Natural- ist’s Rambles on the Devonshire Coast that aquatic plants helped keep animals alive inside the vivarium. This ushered in a fashion for aquaria in the middle-class British home. Specialized aquarium stores even began to open in London, revealing a market large enough for com- mercial viability. By 1855 information about aquaria was codified in textbooks and other popular works.71 They had become familiar. Meanwhile palaetiology strengthened in Victorian science and cul- ture. Other historians have noted this. Theodore Merz’s magisterial history of the sciences devotes a chapter to the ‘‘genetic view of nature’’, seeing geological uniformitarianism, Lamarckian species modification, Vestiges of the Natural History of Creation (1844) and the Origin of Species (1859) as answers to similar historicist questions. William Coleman links changes in biology with the search for the common source of modern languages, and Stephen Alter connects comparative philology and Darwinian descent with modification with Whewell’s palaetiology. All proposed ramifying pathways from common ances- tors.72 Eleven years before Darwin, Carpenter – stimulated by ethnology, philology and von Baerian embryology – had already begun to apply these centrifugal principles to biology.

T.H. Huxley

By the time T.H. Huxley had returned to Britain in December 1850 from his tour on HMS Rattlesnake, the palaetiological style was

70 Forbes, 1848, pp. 87–88; Thomson, 1852–1856, pp. 39, 35–36. Part 2 appeared in 1854. 71 Allen, 1976, pp. 135–137; Goodrum, 1997, pp. 252–256, 278–283. 72 Merz, 1965, pp. 2:363–366, 2:279–280; Coleman, 1977, pp. 10–11; Alter, 1999, pp. 2, 13–14. JAMES ELWICK strengthening. Palaetiology served Huxley well in his research. On Rattlesnake, Huxley had ample opportunity to view living and devel- oping marine invertebrates, and he established himself as an elite researcher by coming up with a new way to classify some of the members of the ‘‘lumber-room’’ of Cuvier’s Radiata: by examining their embryos, investigating the foundational tissues as they turned into more specialized and differentiated organs. Before Rattlesnake, while being trained by the embryologist Thomas Wharton Jones at Charing Cross medical school, Huxley had already copied out quotes from the German botanist Matthias Schleiden: zoology could not become a true science until it was informed by development. And like Carpenter, Huxley also saw the developmental process of animals resembling the centrifugal emergence of modern languages from earlier ones.73 On returning to London, Huxley accentuated his palaetiological leanings. He imported the most up-to-date German research, bringing such works as Albert Ko¨lliker’s Manual of Human Histology to an English-reading audience.74 And he revived older work too: Huxley translated large parts of Karl Ernst von Baer’s writings on the grounds that von Baer had not only been ignored, he had also been misinterpreted in Britain. All this occurred while Carpenter was slowly giving way to Owen in their dispute over who had first used von Baer’s law. Owen’s pressure became too great for Carpenter – giving up all claim to priority, Carpenter sadly concluded to Owen that he would mostly be tied up with his educational duties at the University of London, and so ‘‘...I must be content to see younger men taking the place that I had hoped to occupy as a discoverer, and satisfy myself with endeavouring to qualify them for a philosophical appreciation of what they may have the good fortune to find out.’’75 Huxley was one of these younger men, and conveniently enough one who had publicly recognized in 1853 that Carpenter was the only English physiologist to have correctly used von Baer’s principles. By 1855 Huxley again publicly praised Carpenter as the only Briton or Francophone (save Martin Barry) who properly

73 Huxley, Account of Researches into the Anatomy of the Hydrostatic Acalephae, 1851, HP, IC 37.12–42, pp. 37.32–33; Huxley, Considerations upon the Meaning of the Terms Analogy and Affinity, [1846–1847], HP, IC 37.1–21, pp. 37.11, 37.13–15, 37.20; Winsor, 1976, p. 61; Desmond, 1997, p. 25. 74 Ko¨lliker, 1853. 75 W.B. Carpenter to R. Owen, 11 Feb 1854 OCORR, NHM 6/337–338. Emphasis in original. STYLES OF REASONING IN EARLY TO MID-VICTORIAN LIFE RESEARCH understood and appreciated von Baer’s laws: principles that were ‘‘to Biology what Kepler’s great generalizations were to Astronomy.’’ By implication, Owen had not accurately used these principles.76 As von Baer’s law became one of the most important principles in life research, analytic:synthetic questions – about the quasi-independence of each body part, or how development proceeded by the fusion of those parts – in turn gradually lost importance. Development was increasingly seen as proceeding centrifugally, in a ramifying process from unspe- cialized ‘homogeneity’ to specialized ‘heterogeneity.’77 Huxley followed Carpenter by also defining an individual historically, as the entire product of a sexually fertilized ovum, no matter how many independent parts emerged from this process. He was more successful than Carpenter at convincing others about this. From the botanical term ‘‘phytoid’’ Huxley coined the term ‘‘zooïd’’ in about 1850 to avoid referring to seemingly independent body parts as ‘individuals’. At Huxley’s very first public presentation in 1852 he used the word ‘‘zooïd’’ to overturn a seeming paradox: zooïds only simulated biological individuals. Privately he criticized Owen, in what was to become a series of escalating attacks. Others who found Huxley’s new perspective useful – including George Busk and George Allman – committed to the term zooïd, and in the process their negative opinions about Owen crystallized too.78 Palaetiology also served Huxley’s social aims. Huxley’s dire career prospects in the early 1850s – sharply at odds with his own strong faith in himself – only accentuated his perceived differences from most of the leading practitioners of British life research. He seized on the growing split between Carpenter and Owen, justified the break with Owen by emphasizing Owen’s ‘unpleasant’ personality, and then engineered a schism.79

76 von Baer, 1853, p. 176fn; [Huxley], 1855, pp. 242. 77 Ospovat, 1976 – the classic account of the British reception of von Baerian embryology – emphasizes divergence through the influence of Louis Agassiz’s paleontology. Yet by focusing on divergence, Ospovat might overlook cephalization (hence linear and hierarchical arrangement) in classification, and thus Cuvier’s legacy. 78 Huxley, 5 September 1850, Notebook, 23 August 1850 – 4 August 1851, HP, IC, 63.8; Huxley, On Animal Individuality, 30 April 1852, HP, IC, 38.2–38.52, p. 38.5; W.B. Carpenter to T.H. Huxley 16 Jul 1855, HP, IC 12.78–79; Allman, 1853, p. 379. 79 On Huxley’s self-estimation see T.H. Huxley to H. Heathorn, 28 Aug 1852, T.H. Huxley – H. Heathorn Correspondence, Imperial College London, Huxley Archives, HH 221. It is claimed that later apologists for the scientific naturalists retrospectively created Owen’s reputation for ‘sneakiness’, a matter needing historical explanation – see White, 2003, pp. 64–65. JAMES ELWICK

Huxley was an extraordinarily hard worker, a skilled researcher and writer, and a tactical wizard. He even deployed new beliefs about how a man of science should behave, nicely shown by Paul White.80 But self- fashioning alone was not quite enough for Huxley to rise, and it does not quite explain his ability – stunning in retrospect – to depict Owen’s research as foolish and confused. Huxley not only succeeded in con- veying to history a picture of Owen as a ‘sneaky’ scientist. By redefining certain problems as unimportant, Huxley also erased the very real analytical commitments of the 1830s and 1840s that animated a larger community of British life researchers. When Darwin’s palaetiological theory of natural selection arrived, this clouded earlier life research aims even more, ‘‘like the secretion of a cuttle fish’’.81 For one illustration of Huxley’s successful erasure, consider the infamous dispute between Huxley and Owen over the structure of the human brain. It began when in 1858 Owen told the Linnean Society that mammals should be grouped by brain structure. He divided mammals into four groups: the lowest was the Lyencephala, ‘‘loose brained’’ because of the ‘‘disconnected state’’ of its cerebral hemispheres. Next was Lissencephala, ‘‘smooth brained’’ because there were few convolutions (although the hemispheres were connected). Then came Gyren- cephala – ‘‘winding brained’’ to denote increased convolutions; and finally Archencephala – ‘‘(over)ruling brain[ed]’’, where the cerebral hemispheres covered the olfactory lobes and cerebellum. Humans belonged to this final group, and in two sentences of a 37 page paper, Owen offhandedly noted that humans had a special posterior lobe that he called the ‘‘hippocampus minor.’’82 Nicolaas Rupke sees Owen’s proposal as a novel form of classification.83 Yet Owen’s 1858 scheme followed his earlier cephalisation-groupings (recall Homogangliata and

80 White grounds Huxley’s rejection of Owen in new views about how researchers should conduct themselves. In Owen’s perspective – normal in the unequal 1851 world of gentlemanly science – patrons helped clients in return for deference. But Huxley rejected this, hoping to speak the truth regardless of social network. White, 2003, pp. 37–38, 45. 81 This was Samuel Butler’s image. Butler, 1923, p. 292; Lightman, 2006, forthcoming. 82 Owen, 1858, pp. 14, 17–18, 19–20. The exact quote: ‘‘[Archencephala’s] posterior development is so marked, that anatomists have assigned to that part the character of a third lobe; it is peculiar to the genus Homo, and equally peculiar is the ‘posterior horn of the lateral ventricle,’ and the ‘hippocampus minor,’ which characterize the hind lobe of each hemisphere. The superﬁcial grey matter of the cerebrum, through the number and depth of the convolutions, attains its maximum of extent in Man.’’ 83 Rupke, 1994, p. 266. STYLES OF REASONING IN EARLY TO MID-VICTORIAN LIFE RESEARCH

Heterogangliata) – it revived his earlier Cuvierian-inspired project to classify by nervous structure.84 But in a fight that would become almost as famous as his disputes with Bishop Wilberforce or his later skirmishes with Herbert Spencer, Huxley seized on Owen’s minor remarks about the hippocampus minor. He famously proclaimed that no such posterior lobe existed; hence there was no dividing line between humans and the rest of the animal kingdom, affirming the new Darwinian view. Historians tend to follow Huxley’s reasoning, focusing on the presence or absence of the hippocampus minor, and so we ignore the rationale behind Owen’s scheme. By default we place Owen in a Darwinian framework, locking him into a fight over links between humans and animals. We might avoid this by seeing his work – and that of other pre-Darwinian life researchers – as informed by analysis and synthesis.

Conclusion – Possible Worlds

Was it inevitable that palaetiology pushed out analysis:synthesis in key domains of life research? Probably not – analysis:synthesis might have remained strong in Britain if three key people had not died early. Glance again at Figure 1 and speculate on a world that might have been. The promising young Harry Goodsir might not have disappeared on a failed exploration. E.S. Forbes – who would alone have considerably restrained the young fanatic Huxley’s attacks on Owen – might not have succumbed to kidney failure. And the industrious and well-regarded George Newport might not have died from a fever caught while capturing frogs in a London marsh. Though things largely turned out one way – mainly Huxley’s – other arrangements and research directions were possible. We might instead imagine a world in which it is Harry Goodsir that delays his departure by a year, becoming assistant-surgeon on HMS Rattlesnake and trav- eling to Australasia. In that same world, Huxley advances his itinerary by a year, taking Goodsir’s post on the Franklin Expedition only to perish on a desolate Arctic island. Picture the very diﬀerent kind of life research that might have appeared as a result – perhaps one in which palaetiology was not brought so forcefully to Britain. Owen’s program of parthenogenesis and metagenesis might have been continued by

84 Indeed, Owen cited his own 1842 Hunterian Lectures on the Nervous System – Owen, 1858, pp. 13–14. For a similar view see [Carpenter], 1846, pp. 503–504. JAMES ELWICK

Harry Goodsir’s regeneration investigations, and Owen might have been celebrated, not maligned. It is also important to note that people did indeed change their views. They were not the creatures of styles of reasoning. This is shown on figure 1 – by shifting their commitments, Carpenter, Allman, and Darwin made fruitful new discoveries and raised new questions. But instead of seeing these changes as the free and rational choices made by individuals who heroically struggled against the constraints of styles of reasoning, it is more subtle to see their situations as intercontingent.85 Each researcher was not simply affected by his own choices – he was also influenced by all of the choices and activities of every other life researcher. They were susceptible to others’ commitments; they con- tinuously monitored one another; they defined their work against others’ research; they compared their self-presentation with others. Thus even implacable enemies – Huxley, Owen – were bound up together. As members of changing networks, they were less autonomous and far more mutually dependent than they realized.

Acknowledgments

For Polly Winsor. I thank Katherine Anderson, John Beatty, Elihu Gerson, Michael Ghiselin, Ian Hacking, Bernard Lightman, Gordon McOuat, Lynn Nyhart, John Pickstone, and the anonymous referees of the Journal of the History of Biology. I gratefully acknowledge the permission of the President and Council of the Royal College of Sur- geons of England to quote from the Richard Owen Papers, and Tina Craig’s assistance there; the permission of Imperial College London’s Library Archives and Special Collections to quote from the Thomas Henry Huxley Papers and Manuscripts, and the assistance of Anne Barrett and Hilary McEwan there; and the permission of the Trustees of the Natural History Museum (London), to quote from the Richard Owen Correspondence and Collection, and Paul Cooper’s assistance there. This research and writing was supported by a Social Sciences and Humanities Research Council of Canada Postdoctoral Fellowship, and a grant from the Joint Initiative in German and European Studies, Univer- sity of Toronto.

85 On ‘intercontingency’ see the lively Becker, 1998, pp. 34–35, who is following up on Norbert Elias’s suggestion that we replace the usual antithesis of freedom versus determinism: Elias, 1978, p. 167. STYLES OF REASONING IN EARLY TO MID-VICTORIAN LIFE RESEARCH

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