So Psyche rebuilds her house, continually tearing it down and reconstructing it. Sometimes the lighting system gets out of order. Fuses blow out--and we say she is mad. Sometimes the house falls, or burns, or succumbs to a flood--and we say she is dead. And from the dead house some conclude a dead Psyche, or that there never was a Psyche--which is like concluding that, if the telephone line goes dead, it proves that there never was anybody talking at the other end except the batteries and the wires. No; monkeys are not people, no matter what kind of children they may have had. Nor are people monkeys--not to the extent which Mr. Wiggam seems to suppose. 2. BURBANKING THE HUMAN RACE The effect of Darwinism has been to popularize an exaggerated idea of the importance of heredity. Darwin, of course, depended quite as much upon environment to select his variations as he did upon heredity to hand them down. But it is from Herbert Spencer, not Darwin, that most people have acquired their Darwinism, and it so happens that Spencer was not primarily a Darwinian but a Lamarckian. “The Origin of Species” was not published until Spencer was a middle-aged man. Therefore an immense amount of confusion has arisen in the minds of amateur biologists, and a tendency to believe in heredity as the destiny which shapes our ends. Hence the Eugenists. Hence this Mr. Albert Edward Wiggam, already referred to. The idea of dominant heredity is flattering to parents, who like to think that they live again in their children; who are unwilling to grant that children have souls of their own. It pleases those scientists who still hope to prove that acquired characters are handed down. It pleases determinists, who see here another way of making us slaves to something. It pleases those naturalists, who have acquired their ideas of man from the study of animals, plants and insects. And as animals, plants and insects form the readiest subject for experiment, it pleases materialistic biologists in general. But reasoning from lower forms of life to higher is reasoning by false analogy. Luther Burbank, a great artist with plants, worked wonders in his garden; and in his book, “The Harvest of the Years,” he expresses the regret that his methods could not at once be applied to human beings. But Burbank was not a scientist, not a thinker, but merely a super-gardener, incapable even of keeping an accurate account of his innumerable experiments. So it is not remarkable that he failed to realize that when we say what is sauce for the goose is sauce for the gander we are speaking of beings of the same order, while man and plants are not of the same order.