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ings have existed for some twenty million years: see what
strides machines have made in the last thousand! May not
the world last twenty million years longer? If so, what will
they not in the end become? Is it not safer to nip the mis-
chief in the bud and to forbid them further progress?
‘But who can say that the vapour engine has not a kind of
consciousness? Where does consciousness begin, and where
end? Who can draw the line? Who can draw any line? Is not
everything interwoven with everything? Is not machinery
linked with animal life in an infinite variety of ways? The
shell of a hen’s egg is made of a delicate white ware and is
a machine as much as an egg- cup is: the shell is a device
for holding the egg, as much as the egg-cup for holding the
shell: both are phases of the same function; the hen makes
the shell in her inside, but it is pure pottery. She makes her
nest outside of herself for convenience’ sake, but the nest is
not more of a machine than the egg-shell is. A ‘machine’ is
only a ‘device.’’
Then returning to consciousness, and endeavouring to
detect its earliest manifestations, the writer continued:-
‘There is a kind of plant that eats organic food with its
flowers: when a fly settles upon the blossom, the petals close
upon it and hold it fast till the plant has absorbed the insect
into its system; but they will close on nothing but what is
good to eat; of a drop of rain or a piece of stick they will take
no notice. Curious! that so unconscious a thing should have
such a keen eye to its own interest. If this is unconscious-
ness, where is the use of consciousness?
‘Shall we say that the plant does not know what it is do-

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