rganisms which I have compared to drops of oil suspended in
a mixture of alcohol and water. We reach the protogenes of Haeckel,
in which we have 'a type distinguishable from a fragment of albumen
only by its finely granular character.' Can we pause here? We break a
magnet, and find two poles in each of its fragments. We continue the
process of breaking; but, however small the parts, each carries with
it, though enfeebled, the polarity of the whole. And when we can
break no longer, we prolong the intellectual vision to the polar
molecules. Are we not urged to do something similar in the case of
life? Is there not a temptation to close to some extent with
Lucretius, when he affirms that 'Nature is seen to do all things
spontaneously of herself without the meddling of the gods? or with
Bruno, when he declares that Matter is not 'that mere empty capacity
which philosophers have pictured her to be, but the universal mother
who brings forth all things as the fruit of her own womb?' Believing,
as I do, in the continuity of nature, I cannot stop abruptly where our
microscopes cease to be of use. Here the vision of the mind
authoritatively supplements the vision of the eye. By a necessity
engendered and justified by science I cross the boundary of the
experimental evidence, [Footnote: This mode of procedure was not
invented in Belfast.] and discern in that Matter which we, in our
ignorance of its latent powers, and notwithstanding our professed
reverence for its Creator, have hitherto covered with opprobrium, the
promise and potency of all terrestrial Life.

If you ask me whether there exists the least evidence to prove that
any form of life can be developed out of matter, without demonstrable
antecedent life, my reply is that evidence considered perfectly
conclusive by many has been adduced; and that were some of us who have
pondered this question to follow a very common example, and accept
testimony because it falls in with our belief, we also should eagerly
close with the evidence referred to. But there is in the true man of
science a desire stronger than the wish to have his beliefs upheld;
namely, the desire to have them true. And this stronger wish causes
him to reject the most plausible support, if he has reason to suspect
that it is vitiated by error. Those to whom I refer as having studied
this question, believing the evidence offered in favour of
'spontaneous generation' to be thus vitiated, cannot accept