ply more rapidly than others, and the
backwardness of one art will impede the forwardness of another. At any
rate, so far as I can see, the present is about the only comfortable time
for a man to live in, that either ever has been or ever will be. The
past was too slow, and the future will be much too fast.

The fact is (but it is so obvious that I am ashamed to say anything about
it) that science is rapidly reducing time and space to a very
undifferentiated condition. Take lamb: we can get lamb all the year
round. This is perpetual spring; but perpetual spring is no spring at
all; it is not a season; there are no more seasons, and being no seasons,
there is no time. Take rhubarb, again. Rhubarb to the philosopher is
the beginning of autumn, if indeed the philosopher can see anything as
the beginning of anything. If any one asks why, I suppose the
philosopher would say that rhubarb is the beginning of the fruit season,
which is clearly autumnal, according to our present classification. From
rhubarb to the green gooseberry the step is so small as to require no
bridging--with one's eyes shut, and plenty of cream and sugar, they are
almost indistinguishable--but the gooseberry is quite an autumnal fruit,
and only a little earlier than apples and plums, which last are almost
winter; clearly, therefore, for scientific purposes rhubarb is autumnal.

As soon as we can find gradations, or a sufficient number of uniting
links between two things, they become united or made one thing, and any
classification of them must be illusory. Classification is only possible
where there is a shock given to the senses by reason of a perceived
difference, which, if it is considerable, can be expressed in words. When
the world was younger and less experienced, people were shocked at what
appeared great differences between living forms; but species, whether of
animals or plants, are now seen to be so united, either inferentially or
by actual finding of the links, that all classification is felt to be
arbitrary. The seasons are like species--they were at one time thought
to be clearly marked, and capable of being classified with some approach
to satisfaction. It is now seen that they blend either in the present or
the past insensibly into one another, much as Mr. Herbert Spencer shows
us that geology and astronomy blend into one another, {265} and cannot be
classified except by cutting Gordian knots in a way which none but plain
sensi