But this force is a rational unity, and that is an idea; and this I would point to as a second form of the addition to the chemistry and physics of protoplasm. We have just seen, it is true, that an idea may be found in inorganic matter, as in the solar and sidereal systems generally. But the idea in organized matter is not one operative, so to speak, from without: it is one operative from within, and in an infinitely more intimate and pervading manner. The units that form the complement of an inorganic system are but independently and externally in place, like units in a procession; but in what is organized there is no individual that is not sublated into the unity of the single life. This is so even in protoplasm. Mr. Huxley, it is true, desiderates, as result of mere ordinary chemical process, a life-stuff in mass, as it were in the web, to which he has only to resort for cuttings and cuttings in order to produce, by aggregation, what organized individual he pleases. But the facts are not so: we cannot have protoplasm in the web, but the piece. There is as yet no _matter_ of life; there are still _cells_ of life. It is no shred of protoplasm—no spoonful or toothpickful—that can be recognized as adequate to the function and the name. Such shred may wriggle a moment, but it produces nought, and it dies. In the smallest, lowest protoplasm-cell, then, we have this rational unity of a complement of individuals that only are for the whole and exist in the whole. This is an idea, therefore; this is design: the organized concert of many to a single common purpose. The rudest savage that should, as in Paley’s illustration, find a watch, and should observe the various contrivances all controlled by the single end in view, would be obliged to acknowledge—though in his own way—that what he had before him was no mere physical, no mere molecular product. So in protoplasm: even from the first, but, quite undeniably, in the completed organization at last, which alone it was there to produce; for a single idea has been its one manifestation throughout. And in what machinery does it not at length issue? Was it molecular powers that invented a respiration—that perforated the posterior ear to give a balance of air—that compensated the _fenestra ovalis_ by a _fenestra rotunda_—that placed in the auricular sacs those _otolithes_, those express stones for hearing? Such machinery! The _chordæ tendineæ_ are to the valves of the heart exactly adjusted check-strings; and the contractile _columnæ carneæ_ are set in, under contraction and expansion, to equalize their length to their office. Membranes, rods, and liquids—it required the express experiment of man to make good the fact that the inventor of the ear had availed himself of the most perfect apparatus possible for his purpose. And are we to conceive such machinery, such apparatus, such contrivances merely molecular? Are molecules adequate to such