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MEMOIRS 


OF 


BARON CUVIER. 


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MEMOIRS 


OF 


BARON CUVITIER. 


BY 


MRS. R. LEE 


(FORMERLY MRS. T. ED. BOWDICH). 


EON DON : 


PRINTED FOR 
LONGMAN, REES, ORME, BROWN, GREEN, & LONGMAN, 
PATERNOSTER-ROW. 


1833. 


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MEMOIRS 


OF 


BARON CUVIER. 


INTRODUCTION. 


Berore I enter upon the subject of this volume, 
I would explain to my readers the motives . 
which have induced me to write it, in order to 
prevent that appearance of presumption, which 
may naturally be laid to the charge of an un- 
learned person, who attempts to write the life 
of so illustrious a savant. 

When death has torn from us those whom we 
have most loved and revered, and the over- 
whelming bitterness of grief is past, the first 
feeling which awakens us from our sorrow is 
the desire to uphold the memory, and to make 
known to all men the virtues of the being en- 
shrined in our hearts; a feeling which springs, 
not only from an honest pride in doing justice 

B 


g INTRODUCTION. 


to one who is no more, but from a desire that 
posterity should benefit by the example. Rous- 
ing myself, then, from the stunning grief which 
at first assailed me, I eagerly sought all the 
public notices which appeared in England con- 
cerning the Baron Cuvier, in the hope of finding 
something equal to his high deserts; but though 
all did him the justice of placing him above 
every other naturalist, not one spoke of his 
talents as a legislator, and all equally neglected 
his private character. ‘This, and the almost uni- 
versal incorrectness of detail, no doubt proceeded 
from ignorance rather than intention; yet, dis- 
appointed as I was that my countrymen should 
have so little known and appreciated one of the 
most admirable persons of our time, nothing, at 
that moment, could be further from my thoughts 
than to supply the deficiencies by my own pen. 
Most of those who were either anxious to 
enquire of me concerning the surviving family, or 
who were kindly solicitous about myself under 
such a calamity, seemed to think it a matter of 
course that I should publish some particulars of 
my lost friend; but although this certainly sug- 
gested the possibility of doing so, I still felt my 
own inadequacy too deeply to do other than 
refuse the undertaking. In a few weeks, how- 


INTRODUCTION, 3 


ever, I was solicited in one or two influential 
quarters to write a short memoir for one of our 
public journals, and, afraid to trust solely to my 
own reminiscences, I applied to the relatives of 
Baron Cuvier for data. ‘These data were con- 
tributed with a readiness which vouched for the 
sentiments of the family, and I seriously applied 
to the task. Recollection crowded upon recollec- 
tion, anecdote upon anecdote, till, in a short time, 
it became very difficult to select from the mass. 
Long did I hesitate from the conviction of my 
own inability ; but the universal desire expressed 
to me that I should publish the documents which 
abundantly flowed from the best sources, and 
the anxiety evinced to know something of the 
private character and domestic habits of the 
great man, seemed to point out that part of his 
career which alone I was worthy to describe. 
Reflection whispered, that I was able to correct 
the many errors afloat ; that, perhaps, I was the 
only one in England, who, from having been 
received into the bosom of his family, could per- 
sonally speak of various circumstances and 
events; and when I thought of all the affection 
and kindness I had received, I began to feel 
that there would be a degree of ingratitude in 
remaining silent, and determined that I would, 

Ba 


~ 


As INTRODUCTION. 


independent of all other publications, attempt to 
lay open to the English world the noblest part 
of the gifted individual — his heart. 

Such is the chief purport of the present bio- 
graphy; the labours of M. Cuvier speak for his 
wonderful mind; and time alone can show, to 
its full extent, the influence of that mind upon 
science. ‘To time also must we look for an im- 
partial opinion upon his political career; but it 
is only for those who have lived with him to do 
justice to his high moral virtues; and in the 
hope that this little volume may serve, when I 
have followed the illustrious subject of it to the 
grave, as a basis for a more extended publica- 
tion, I offer a narrative of facts. 

Having thus, I trust, obviated every feeling 
of disgust which accompanies all kinds of pre- 
sumption, and which would, most probably, be 
attached to me, were I to dare to think myself 
qualified for a biographer of savants, there yet 
remains something for me to say to those to 
whom I am unknown; for, when an individual 
starts from a private circle to give an account of 
an illustrious public character, it becomes ne- 
cessary to vouch for the veracity of details, and 
to explain the opportunities afforded for obsery- 
ation. This will be best done by a short history 


INTRODUCTION, 5 


of my intercourse with the Cuvier family, an 
introduction to whom took place through our 
mutually cherished friend, Dr. Leach, of the 
British Museum. 

Mr. Bowdich had returned from his second, 
and I from my first, voyage to Africa, in the 
year 1818, and shortly after Mr. Bowdich pro- 
ceeded to Paris, where his reputation, as the 
successful African traveller, was already known. 
The letter of Dr. Leach was scarcely necessary 
with the Baron Cuvier, who received him 
with that warmth and encouragement which 
always marked his conduct towards men of 
talents younger than himself, that interest which. 
he extended to all who were devoted to science. 
Struck with the facilities afforded for study in 
the French capital, Mr. Bowdich determined to 
remain there some time, in order to qualify him- 
self for the principal object of his ambition, a 
second travel in Africa. We both accordingly 
went to Paris in 1819; and from that moment 
the vast library of the Baron Cuvier, his draw- 
ings, his collections, were open to our purposes. 
We became the intimates of the family, with 
whom, for nearly four years, we were in daily 
intercourse. We left France with their blessings ; 
and on returning alone to Europe, I was re- 


Q 


BO 


6 INTRODUCTION. 


ceived, even as a daughter. My correspondence 
with M. Cuvier’s daughter-in-law, and other 
branches of the family, has been uninterrupted 
since that period; I have paid them repeated 
visits at their own house ; and for fourteen years 
not a single shadow has passed over the warm 
affection which has characterised our intimacy. 

And now, having stated my motives, and my 
claims to confidence, I have to express a sincere 
gratitude towards those who have assisted me, 
either by their notes or their works *, and to 
give an outline of the plan I have thought it 
necessary to adopt. 

Unwilling to incur the risk of confusion, by 
mingling too much anecdote, either with my 
narrative of events or description of scientific 
and legislative labours, I have divided the pre- 
sent volume into four parts or portions, that 
each may bear its own share of detail. The first 
will give the data of all the important circum- 
stances of the Baron Cuvier’s life, in their re- 
spective order; the second will contain an 
account of his various works, as a savant and 
philosopher; the third will be devoted to his 


* Foremost among these are, Baron Pasquier, M. Lauril- 
Jord Dr. Duvernoy, and the Baron de H . 


INTRODUCTION. i / 


legislative career; and the fourth will be chiefly 
confined to those anecdotes which will best illus- 
trate his character as a man. In following this 
method, I may, probably, be led into something 
like repetition; but I hope I shall be excused, 
if each part shall be found to contain a whole in 
itself; which facilitates reference. 


PARI: FE 


Georce Liopotp Curitien Frepéric Daco- 
BERT Cuvier was born at Montbéliard (départe- 
ment du Doubs) on the twenty-third of August, 
1769. This town now belongs to France, but at 
that time formed a part of the kingdom of Wir- 
temberg. His family came originally from a vil- 
lage of the Jura, which still bears the name of 
Cuvier, and settled at Montbéliard at the period 
of the Reformation. ‘The grandfather of the sub- 
ject of the present biography had two sons; one 
became celebrated for his learning, and the 
other, the father of George Cuvier, entered a 
Swiss regiment then in the service of France. 
Having much distinguished himself in his mili- 
tary duties, he was made Chevalier de Ordre 
du Meérite Militaire*, which, among the Protest- 
ants, was equal to the catholic Croix de St. 


* The impossibility of finding English words equivalent to 
French technical terms, names of public functions, orders, 
&c. obliges me, in most cases, to preserve the original 


phrase. 
> 


i 
1 § 


MEMOIRS OF BARON CUVIER. 9g 


Louis; and, after forty years service, he re- 
tired, with a small pension, to Montbéliard, 
where he was afterwards appointed commandant 
of the artillery in that town. At fifty years of 
age he married a young lady, gifted with much 
talent and feeling, by whom he had three sons. 
The eldest died while his mother was pregnant 
with her second son, which event preyed so 
much upon her health, that her infant, George, 
came into the world with a constitution so 
feeble, that his youth scarcely promised man- 
hood. The cares of this excellent mother, 
during the extreme delicacy of his health, left 
an impression on M. Cuvier which was never. 
effaced, even in his latest years, and amid the 
absorbing occupations of his active life. He 
cherished every circumstance connected with 
her memory ; he loved to recall her kindnesses, 
and to dwell upon objects, however trifling, 
which reminded him of her. Among other 
things, he delighted in being surrounded by 
the flowers she had preferred, and whoever 
placed a bouquet of red stocks in his study or 
his room, was sure to be rewarded by his 
most affectionate thanks for bringing him what 
he called ‘the favourite flower.’’ But this 
well-judging parent did not confine her cares 


10 MEMOIRS OF 


to his health alone ; she devoted herself equally 
to the formation of his mind, and was another 
proof of the influence that a mother’s early at- 
tentions frequently shed over the future career 
of her son. She guided him in his religious 
duties, taught him to read fluently at the age of 
four years, took him every morning to an ele- 
mentary school, and, although herself ignorant 
of Latin, so scrupulously made him repeat his 
lessons to her, that he was always better pre- 
pared with his tasks than any other boy at the 
school. She made him draw under her own 
inspection; and, by constantly furnishing him 
with the best works on history and general liter- 
ature, nurtured that passion for reading, that 
ardent desire for knowledge, which became the 
principal spring of his intellectual existence. As 
he advanced in drawing, his progress was super- 
intended by one of his relations, an architect in 
the town of Montbéliard; and he successively . 
passed through all the exercises of this first 
school, repeating the usual catechisms, the 
psalms of David, and the sonnets of Drelin- 
court, &c., with the utmost facility. At ten 
years of age he was placed in a higher school, 
called the Gymnase, where, in the space of four 


years, he profited by every branch of education 


BARON CUVIER. 11 


there taught, even including rhetoric. He had 
no difficulty in acquiring Latin and Greek, and 
he was constantly at the head of the classes of 
history, geography, and mathematics. The his- 
tory of mankind was, from the earliest period of 
his life, a subject of the most indefatigable ap- 
plication ; and long lists of sovereigns, princes, 
and the driest chronological facts, once arranged 
in his memory, were never forgotten. He also 
delighted in reducing maps to a very small 
scale, which, when done, were given to his com- 
panions ; and his love of reading was so great, 
that his mother, fearing the effect of so much 
application to sedentary pursuits, frequently . 
forced him to seek other employments. When 
thus driven, as it were, from study, he entered 
into boyish sports with equal ardour, and was 
foremost in all youthful recreations. It was at 
this age that his taste for natural history was 
brought to light by the sight of a Gesner, with 
coloured plates, in the library of the Gymnase, 
and by the frequent visits which he paid at the 
house of a relation who possessed a complete 
copy of Buffon. Blessed with a memory that 
retained every thing he saw and read, and which 
never failed him in any part of his career, when 
twelve years old he was as familiar with qua- 


KZ MEMOIRS OF 


drupeds and birds as a first-rate naturalist. He 
copied the plates of the above work, and coloured 
them according to the printed descriptions, 
either with paint or pieces of silk. He was never 
without a volume of this author in his pocket, 
which was read again and again; and frequently. 
he was roused from its pages to take his place 
in the class repeating Cicero and Virgil. The 
admiration which he felt at this youthful period 
for his great predecessor never ceased, and in 
public, as well as private circles, he never failed 
to express it. ‘The charms of Buffon’s style, a 
beauty to which M. Cuvier was very sensible, 
had always afforded him the highest pleasure, 
and he felt a sort of gratitude to him, not only 
for the great zeal he had evinced in the cause of 
natural history, not only for the enjoyment 
afforded to his youthful leisure, but for the 
many proselytes who had been attracted by the 
magic of his language. When the student had 
ripened into the great master, M. Cuvier found 
me deeply absorbed by a passage of Buffon; and 
he then told me what his own feelings had been 
on first reading him, aud that this impression had 
never been destroyed in maturer years. He had 
been obliged, for the sake of science, to point 
out the errors committed by this eloquent na- 


BARON CUVIER. 13 


turalist, but he had never lost an opportunity of 
remarking and dwelling on his perfections. 

At the age of fourteen we find the dawning 
talents of the legislator manifesting themselves ; 
and the young Cuvier then chose a certain 
number of his schoolfellows, and constituted 
them into an academy, of which he was ap- 
pointed president. He gave the regulations, 
and fixed the meetings for every Thursday, at 
a stated hour, and, seated on his bed, and 
placing his companions round a table, he or- 
dered that some work should be read, which 
treated either of natural history, philosophy, 
history, or travels. The merits of the book 
were then discussed, after which, the youthful 
president summed up the whole, and pronounced 
a sort of judgment on the matter contained in 
it, which judgment was always strictly adopted 
by his disciples. He was even then remarkable 
for his declamatory powers, and on the anni- 
versary féte of the sovereign of Montbéliard, 
Duke Charles of Wiurtemberg, he composed an 
oration in verse, on the prosperous state of the 
principality, and delivered it fresh from his 
pen, in a firm manly tone, which astonished 
the whole audience. Like most of the young 
people at Montbéliard, whose talents rendered 


14 MEMOIRS OF 


them worthy of it, and whose parents were not 
possessed of fortune, he was destined for the 
church. A free school had been founded for 
such boys at Tubingen, where they received 
a first-rate education. But the chief of the 
Gymnase at Montbéliard, who had never for- 
given the young Cuvier for some childish 
tricks, changed his destiny by placing his com- 
position in the third rank, when the pupils 
presented their themes for places. George Cu- 
vier felt that his production was equally good 
with those which had hitherto been judged 
worthy of the first rank, and at the important 
moment, when his station at college depended 
on his success, he was, for no conscious fault, kept 
back. He became disgusted, and abandoned 
all thoughts of Tubingen, to which place he 
was only desirous of going as a means of pur- 
suing his studies; and, frequently, in after-life, 
he expressed himself most happy at the changes 
which resulted from this piece of injustice. 
Informed of the progress of the young Cu- 
vier, and hearing the highest encomiums of him 
from the Princess his sister, the Duke Charles, 
uncle to the present King of Wiirtemberg, 
when on a visit to Montbéliard, sent for him, 
and, after having asked him several questions, 


BARON CUVIER. 15 


and examined his drawings, declared his inten- 
tion of taking him under his special favour, and 
sending him to the University of Stuttgard free 
of expense, there to enter into his own Academy, 
called the Académie Caroline. He was then 
only fourteen, but, in consequence of the pre- 
paration he had undergone at the Gymnase of 
Montbéliard, he was able to take his place 
among the most celebrated students of the Aca- 
demy. He, at this age then, quitted the pater- 
nal roof for the first time: he was sent among 
strangers without having an idea of the esta- 
blishment he was about to enter ; and even in his 
latest years he often said, that he could not | 
recall to memory this three days journey with- 
out asensation of fear. He was seated between 
the Chamberlain and Secretary of the Duke, 
both entirely unknown to him, and who spoke 
nothing but German the whole way, of which 
the poor child could not understand one word. 
On the 4th of May, 1784, he entered the Aca- 
démie Caroline ; and during the four years he 
passed there, he studied all that was taught in 
the highest classes, — mathematics, law, medi- 
cine, administration, tactics, commerce, &c. 
After applying himself for one year to philoso- 
phy, as his particular object, he then chose the 


16 MEMOIRS OF 


study of administration, which, in Germany, 
embraces the practical and elementary parts of 
law, finance, police, agriculture, technology *, 
&c., and was principally led to this preference, 
because it also afforded him many opportunities 
of pursuing natural history, of herborising, and 
of visiting collections. He, on all occasions, 
enthusiastically profited by these opportunities, 
for the cultivation of his darling taste; he fre- 
quently read over Linnaeus, Reinhart, Mur, and 
Fabricius. In his walks he collected a very 
considerable herbarium ; and, during his hours of 
recreation, he drew and coloured an immense 
number of insects, birds, and plants, with the 
most surprising correctness and fidelity, and to 
which drawings he would frequently return with 
pleasure, when the naturalist was perfect in his 
career. But it was the same in every thing; 
for that versatility of talent, which made him the 
wonder of all who knew him as a man, seems to 
have distinguished him in early years. He ob- 
tained various prizes, and the order of Cheva- 


* Technology is the theoretical part of mechanical science, ~ 
independent of the practical; a knowledge of which was 


thought absolutely indispensable to one taking a part in ad- 
ministration. 


BARON CUVIER. 17 


lerie *, — an honour which was only granted to 
five or six out of four hundred pupils; and nine 
months after his arrival at Stuttgard, he bore off 
the prize for the German language. 

The youthful Cuvier was destined solely to 
fill the higher departments belonging to the go- 
vernment of his country; but the pecuniary 
embarrassments of his parents rendered it impos- 
sible for him to wait two or three years, till an 
opportunity of appointing him should occur to 
the Duke. The disordered state of the finances 
in France was so great, that even the payment 
of his father’s pension had ceased, and he was 
consequently forced to enter into a career wholly 
different to his own wishes, or to the views of 
his patron. Duke Frederick, who was governor 
of Montbéliard, under his brother, Duke Charles, 
retired to Germany, and in him M. Cuvier 
lost one of his most able protectors ; and every 


* The chevaliers dined at a separate table, and enjoyed 
many advantages, as being under the immediate patronage of 
the Duke. The lessons of M. Kielmeyer, afterwards called 
the father of the philosophy of nature, a student much older 
than himself; were of infinite service to M. Cuvier at this 
time, as from him he learned to dissect, and with him, Messrs. 
Pfaff, Marschall, Hartmann, &c., a society of natural history 
was formed ; and he who brought the best composition to the 
meetings received an order, beautifully drawn by M. Cuvier. 


ic 


18 MEMOIRS OF 


hope of better times failing, he determined to 
undertake the office of tutor, an idea in some 
measure familiar to him, as Montbéliard had 
long supplied instructors to the young nobles of 
Russia. To Russia, however, he had no wish to 
proceed, for his lungs, always delicate, were 
rendered still weaker by close application to his 
studies, and he sought an appointment in a more 
genial climate. Such a step was deemed by his 
companions, considering his already acquired 
honours, his extraordinary talents, and great at- 
tainments, desperate ; but he was again to prove, 
that that which at first appears a severe misfortune 
often becomes a stepping stone to future fame 
and success; for, in a manner compelled to ac- 
cept that which in every way appeared unwor- 
thy of him, M. Cuvier, by so doing, laid the 
foundation for the cosmopolitan honours which 
attended his after years. We are now to behold 
him, then, arriving at Caen in Normandy, in 
July, 1788, and stationing himself in a Protestant 
family for the education of the only son, and 
although not quite nineteen years of age, in pos- 
session of that variety and depth of knowledge 
which was so soon to ripen into the great savant ; 
« bringing with him from Germany that love of 
labour, that depth of reflection, that persever- 


BARON CUVIER. 19 


ance, that uprightness of character, from which 
he never swerved. To these admirable found- 
ations for glory, he afterwards added that re- 
markable clearness of system, that perfection 
of method, that tact of giving only what is 
necessary, in short, that elegant manner of sum- 
ming up the whole, which particularly distin- 
guishes the French writers: the whole super- 
structure was completed by the most perfect 
modesty, and that respect for his own esteem, 
without which, talents become the medium of 
traffic for the acquirement of sordid possessions.” * 

Whilst with the family of the Count d’Hericy, 
M. Cuvier saw all the nobility of the surround- 
ing country ; he acquired the forms and manners 
of the best society, and became acquainted with 
some of the most remarkable men of his time. 
Nor was his favourite study followed with 
less ardour in consequence of finding himself 
surrounded by new friends and new duties. A 
long sojourn on the borders of the sea first in- 
duced him to study marine animals, but, without 
books, and in complete retirement, he confined 
himself to the objects more immediately within 
his reach. It was at this period also, (June, 


* Baron Pasquier. 


Cee 


20) MEMOIRS OF 


1791, to 1794,) that some Terebratule having 
been dug up near Fécamp, the thought struck 
him of comparing fossil with recent species * ; 
and the casual dissection of a Calmart led him to 
study the anatomy of Mollusca, which afterwards 
conducted him to the developement of his great 
views on the whole of the animal kingdom. It 
was thus, from an obscure corner of Normandy, 
that that voice was first heard, which, in a com- 
paratively short space of time, filled the whole 
of the civilised world with admiration, —which 
was to lay before mankind so many of the 
hidden wonders of creation,—which was to dis- 
cover to us the relics of former ages, to change 
the entire face of natural history, to regulate 
and amass the treasures already acquired, and 
those made known during his life; and then to 
leave science on the threshold of a new epocha. 
The class called Vermes by Linneus, included 
all the inferior animals, and was left by him in a 
state of the greatest confusion. It was by these, 


* The idea of making fossil remains subservient to geo- 
logy was not due to M. Cuvier alone, for several others seem 
to have entertained the same views; but his pre-eminence 
consisted in making use of this idea, and carrying it to an 
extent far beyond the calculations of his predecessors or 
contemporaries. 

+ A species of Cuttle fish. 


BARON CUVIER. Q1 


the lowest beings in creation, that the young na- 
turalist first distinguished himself: he examined 
their organisation, classed them into different 
groups, and arranged them according to their 
natural affinities. He committed his observ- 
ations and thoughts to paper, and, unknown to 
himself at that time, laid the basis of that beau- 
tiful fabric which he afterwards raised on zoo- 
logy. He wrote concerning them, to a friend, 
‘‘ These manuscripts are solely for my own use, 
and, doubtless, contain nothing but what has 
been done elsewhere, and better established by 
the naturalists of the capital, for they have been 
made without the aid of books or collections.” . 
Nevertheless, almost every page of these pre- 
cious manuscripts was full of new facts and en- 
lightened views, which were superior to almost all 
that had yet appeared. A little society met every 
evening in the town of Valmont, near the cha- 
teau de Fiquainville, belonging to the Count 
d’Hericy, for the purpose of discussing agri- 
cultural topics. M. Tessier was often present 
at these meetings, who had fled from the reign 
of terror in Paris, and who was concealed under 
the title and office of surgeon to a regiment, 
then quartered at Valmont. He spoke so well, 
and seemed so entirely master of the subject, 
c 3 


22 MEMOIRS OF 


that the young secretary of the society, M. Cu- 
vier, recognised him as the author of the articles 
on agriculture in the Encyclopédie Méthodique. 

On saluting him as such, M. Tessier, whose 
title of Abbé had rendered him suspected at 
Paris, exclaimed, ‘* I am known, then, and con- 
sequently lost.”’— « Lost!” replied M. Cuvier; 
‘no; you are henceforth the object of our 
most anxious care.” ‘This circumstance led to 
an intimacy between the two; and by means of 
M. Tessier*, M. Cuvier entered into corre- 
spondence with several savans, to whom he sent 
his observations, especially Laméthrie, Olivier, 
De la Cépéde, Geoffroy St. Hilaire, and Millin 
de Grand Maison. ‘Through their influence, 
and from the memoirs published in several 
learned journals, he was called to Paris, where 
endeavours were making to re-establish the lite- 
rary institutions, overthrown by the Revolution, 
and where it was reasonable to suppose that 
he would find the means of placing himself. 
In the spring of 1795, he obeyed the invitation 


* « Je viens de trouver une perle dans le fumier de Nor- 
mandie,”—“ I have just founda pearl in the dunghill of Nor- 
mandy,”— wrote M. Tessier to his friend M. Parmentier ; 
thus detecting the great naturalist in M. Cuvier’s earliest 
productions, and appreciating what were then but the germs 
of his talent. 


BARON CUVIER. 293 


of his Parisian friends, and, by the influence of 
M. Millin, was appointed membre de la Commis- 
sion des Arts, and, a short time after, professor 
at the central school of the Panthéon. For this 
school he composed his ‘ Tableau élémentaire 
de l’Histoire naturelle des Animaux;” which 
work contained the first methodical writing on 
the class Vermes that had been given to the 
world. His great desire, however, was to be 
attached to the Museum of Natural History, the 
collections in which could alone enable him to 
realise his scientific views. A short time after his 
arrival in the capital, M. Mertrud was appointed 
to the newly-created chair of comparative ana-_ 
tomy at the Jardin des Plantes, and finding 
himself too far advanced in years to follow a 
study which had hitherto been foreign to his 
pursuits, consented, at the request of his col- 
leagues, particularly MM. de Jussieu, Geoffroy, 
and De la Ceépéde, to associate M. Cuvier with 
him in his duties. ‘This association was exactly 
what M. Cuvier was desirous of obtaining; and 
no sooner was he settled in the Jardin des 
Plantes, as the assistant of M. Mertrud, July, 
1795, than he sent for his father, then nearly 
eighty years of age, and his brother, M. Fre- 
deric Cuvier; his mother he had unfortunately 
c 4 


24, MEMOIRS OF 


lost in 1793. From the moment of his instal- 
lation in this new office, M. Cuvier commenced 
that magnificent collection of comparative ana- 
tomy which is now so generally celebrated. In 
the lumber-room of the museum were four or 
five old skeletons, collected by M. Daubenton, 
and piled up there by M. de Buffon. ‘Taking 
these, as it were, for the foundation, he unceas- 
ingly pursued his object; and, aided by some 
professors, opposed by others, he soon gave it 
such a degree of importance that no further 
obstacle could be raised against its progress. 
No other pursuit, no relaxation, no absence, no 
legislative duties, no sorrow, no illness, ever 
turned him from this great purpose, and created 
by him, it now remains one of the noblest monu- 
ments to his memory.* 

The National Institute was created in 1796; 
and M. Cuvier, although only known by his 
scientific papers, and his intimacy with learned 
men, especially De la Cépéde and Daubenton, 
was made one of its first members, and was the 


* It was of this collection that he said, when asked if he 
should ever consider himself rich in it, “ Quelque riche qu’on 


en soit, on en désire toujours.” (However rich we may be, 
we always wish for more.) 


BARON CUVIER. 25 


third secretary, appointed at a time when these 
secretaries quitted their office every two years. 
In the spring of 1798, M. Berthollet having 
been charged by Buonaparte to seek for savans 
to accompany the expedition to Egypt, proposed 
to M. Cuvier to form one of the number. ‘This, 
however, he refused, from the conviction, that he 
could better serve the interests of science by re- 
maining amid the daily improving collections of 
the Jardin, where his labours could be syste- 
matic, than by making even a successful travel. 
He always felt happy afterwards in having thus 
decided ; the propriety of which resolution no 
one can attempt to dispute. . 
About this time, one of M. Cuvier’s pupils, 
M. Dumeril, who had zealously followed all his 
lectures, asked permission to publish the notes 
he had taken in the lecture room. These, in 
M. Cuvier’s opinion, would have formed a very 
imperfect work, and he preferred going over the 
whole again, devoting himself to the general and 
philosophical notices, and those parts which 
treated of the brain and the organs of the 
senses. M. Dumeril chiefly undertook the de- 
tails of myology and nevrology. The two first 
volumes of the ‘“¢ Legons d’ Anatomie comparée” 
appeared in 1800, and met with the greatest 


26 MEMOIRS OF 


success, notwithstanding a few errors, which. 
were afterwards corrected and acknowledged by 
M. Cuvier, who, in common with all those who 
prefer the interests of science to their own mo- 
mentary fame, and with the candour which 
always marks real learning, never hesitated 
either to avow or to rectify a fault, a perfection 
which mingled with his private as well as public 
actions. ‘The materials for these lectures were 
supplied by a collection, then in its infancy, 
and which was increased an hundredtold by him- 
self; and those who have criticised these early 
volumes, have been obliged to confess, that 
the means of doing so were given to them by 
the author himself, who threw every thing 
open to them, even were it to convict him 
of those unavoidable mistakes to which he had 
been liable, from the then imperfect state of 
the collection. The three last volumes of this 
work were much more complete and methodical 
than the first two, and were edited under the 
inspection of Dr. Duvernoy (another of M. 
Cuvier’s pupils), in the year 1805, though the 
second, notwithstanding its inaccuracies, was 
always considered by M. Cuvier as the most in- 
teresting of the whole. 

But to return to the year 1800, when the ce- 
lebrated colleague otf M. de Buffon died, at a 


BARON CUVIER. ar 


very advanced age, M. Cuvier was named pro- 
fessor in his place, at the Collége de France, 
where he taught natural philosophy, at the same 
time that he lectured on comparative anatomy 
at the Jardin.* On succeeding to this chair he 
resigned that of the central school of the Pan- 
théon. Alsoin 1800, Buonaparte, who, as First 
Consul, aspired to civil as well as military glory, 


* An estimate of the pecuniary advantages then attending 
the career of a savant, may be gathered from the following 
letter, written by M. Cuvier, in answer to one from the late 
M. Hermann. 


«« My dear and learned confrére, (1800.) 

“ You are not to suppose that Paris is so highly favoured ; 
for twelve months pay are now due at the Jardin des - 
Plantes, and all the national establishments for public in- 
struction, in Paris as well as at Strasburgh ; and if we envy 
the elephants, it is not because they are better paid than we 
are, but because, while living on credit, as we do, they are 
not aware of it, and, consequently, are insensible to the pain 
it gives. You know the saying about the French, that when 
they have no money they sing. We savans, who are not 
musicians, work at our sciences instead of singing, which 
comes to the same thing. Believe me, my dear confrére, 
this French philosophy is better than that of Wolff, or even 
that of Kant; and you are even more able to profit by it 
than we are, for you can still purchase beautiful books, and 
even artificial anatomy, which are objects of luxury in their 
way. Ihave not yet read Poli, and defer this study till the 
time when I publish my anatomical history of animals with 
white blood. ‘There is, as yet, but one copy of it in Paris, as 
T am informed ; and thus you see we offer nothing which can 
excite your envy.” 


28 MEMOIRS OF 


caused himself to be appointed president of the 
Institute, and, in consequence, held direct com- 
munication with M.Cuvier. In 1802 he ap- 
pointed him one of the six inspectors-general 
ordered to establish Lycées* in thirty towns of 
France. In this capacity M. Cuvier founded 
those of Marseilles, Nice, and Bordeaux, which 
are now called royal colleges ; and while thus 
employed at Marseilles, he profited by the op- 
portunity so afforded him of continuing his 
studies on marine animals. During his absence 
from Paris, the Institute underwent a change 
of form, and its secretaryships were made 
perpetual. t M. Cuvier was elected to that 
of natural sciences, which he held with ho- 
nour to the day of his death. On this ap- 


* Lycées are public schools, under the management and 
direction of the government. The pupils who frequent 
them pay a small sum, which sum is appropriated to the use 
of the school. The professors receive their salaries from the 
government, which reserves to itself a right to nominate a 
certain number of pupils entirely gratis. The private 
schools are always established near one of these Lycées, as 
the pupils of these are obliged to attend there for a certain 
number of hours every day. 

+ Napoleon fixed the salary of the perpetual secretaries of 
the Institute at 6000 francs; and on its being observed to 
him that it was too much, he replied, “ The perpetual 
secretary must be enabled to receive at dinner all the 
learned foreigners who visit the capital.” 


BARON CUVIER. 29 


pointment he quitted his labours of inspector- 
general of education. 

A fall having occasioned the death of M. 
Cuvier’s father, shortly after his arrival in Paris, 
and his brother’s wife having died the first year 
of her marriage, in giving birth to a son*, the 
two brothers remained alone ; and it was in this 
comparatively solitary condition that M. Cuvier 
thought of seeking a companion. In 1803 he mar- 
ried the widow of M. Duvaucel, Fermier General, 
who had perished on the scaffold in the year 
1794. This was no match of interest; for 
Madame Duvaucel had been wholly deprived of 
fortune by the Revolution, and brought four. 
children + to M. Cuvier, whom she had borne to 


* M. Frederic Cuvier is now keeper of the ménagerie of 
the Jardin des Plantes, in which capacity his observations on 
the instinct, habits, and dentition of animals have been 
highly valuable. He is the author of several learned works 
on these subjects, is member of the Institute, one of the in- 
spectors-general of education, &c. &c.; but all these titles to 
public consideration are nothing in comparison to the admir- 
able qualities of his heart and temper. The distinguished 
talents of the son thus bequeathed to him will at least bear 
the illustrious name of Cuvier one generation further with 
honour. 

+ Two of these children are dead, one of them having 
been assassinated in Portugal during the retreat of the 
French in 1809. The other fell a victim to his scientific 
zeal in a pernicious climate ; and after having displayed great 


30 MEMOIRS OF 


M. Duvaucel. But well had M. Cuvier judged 
of the best means of securing domestic enjoy- 
ment; for this lady, who is a rare combination 
of mind, manner, and disposition, threw a bright 
halo of happiness round him, which was his sup- 
port in suffering, his refuge in trouble, and a 
powerful auxiliary, when his heavy and import- 
ant duties allowed him to steal an hour of ra- 
tional and unrestrained conversation. By this 
marriage he had four children, the first of whom, 
a son, died a few weeks after his birth, and who 
were all successively taken from him. 

In 1808, in his character of Perpetual Secre- 
tary, M. Cuvier wrote a Report on the Progress 
of Natural Sciences, from the year 1789. A 
mere report was demanded; but under this title 
the learned author produced one of the most 
luminous treatises that had ever appeared, 


talent and courage, while travelling in India and the neigh- 
bouring islands for four years, in order to make collec- 
tions for the museum in Paris, expired at Madras, at an 
early age, lamented by all as a youth of great promise, and 
the most endearing qualities. One of the survivors holds a 
high place in the customs of Bordeaux ; and the other, who 
has been loved and cherished by M. Cuvier as his own 
daughter, has had the happiness of devoting herself to him 
in his last moments, and now forms the sole consolation of 
her afflicted mother. 


BARON CUVIER. Sit 


“serving as a beacon to the path which had 
already been traversed, and to that which was 
yet to be pursued.”* The Report was formally 
presented to the Emperor in the council of 
state. In this same year, when Napoleon cre- 
ated the Imperial University, M. Cuvier was 
made one of the counsellors for life to this body, 
which brought him constantly into the imme- 
diate presence of the Emperor. 

In 1809 and 1810, in his office of Counsellor 
to the University, M. Cuvier was charged with 
the organisation of the academies of those Ita- 
lian states which were, for a time, annexed to 
the empire. The regulations made by him at 
Turin, Genoa, and Pisa, were afterwards con- 
tinued by the sovereigns of these countries on 
their return to their dominions, 

In 1811 appeared one of the most important 
of all M. Cuvier’s scientific labours, —his work 
on Fossil, Remains; which opened new sources 
of wonder in the history of creation, and made 
an entire revolution in the study of geology. 
Also, in 1811, he was ordered to form aca- 
demies in Holland and the Hanseatic towns, 


* Baron Pasquier. 


32 MEMOIRS OF 


where several of his arrangements are still ex- 
isting. His Reports from Holland are parti- 
cularly worthy of admiration; for in them he 
exposed the true causes of the inferiority of 
that country in classical attainment, and showed, 
that the disgust often felt by the pupils, arose 
from their not having enough given to their 
minds to feed upon. The schools for the people 
attracted his attention in all countries, and were 
to him an unceasing theme of meditation. 
While at Hamburgh, M. Cuvier received the 
unsolicited title of Chevalier from the Emperor, 
which rank was assured to his heirs. However, 
the hope of transmitting his worldly honours to 
his posterity was soon to be destroyed ; for, after 
being deprived of a daughter, four years old, in 
1812, he was, in 1813, bereaved of his son, who 
was seven years of age. ‘This last loss made a 
deep impression on him, which was never en- 
tirely effaced ; and even after the lapse of years 
he never saw a boy of that age without con- 
siderable emotion, a feeling which he did not 
strive to hide from his own family, or those 
with whom he was intimate; and often, when 
walking with his daughters, he would stop be- 
fore a group of boys, who, as they played, re- 


BARON CUVIER. 33 


minded him of his child.* This misfortune 
happened while M. Cuvier was fulfilling a mis- 
sion at Rome, for the purpose of organising the 
university there. It was remarkable enough, 
that a Protestant should hold this office in the 
metropolis of the Papal dominions, but the mo- 
deration and benignity of M. Cuvier knew how 
to soften inconsistencies; his tolerance for all 
sincere doctrines of religion proceeded from 
conscientious motives, and therefore he was not 
likely to revolt the creed of those among whom 
he mingled. While thus employed at Rome, 
Napoleon, from his own personal feeling, ap- 
pointed him Maitre des Requétes in the Council 
of State, of which honour he was first informed 
by the Moniteur. The contact into which he 
was constantly brought with the Emperor, in 
his office of Counsellor to the University, the 
intimate knowledge which his sovereign had 
thus acquired of his administrative talents, 
united to the favourable representations of the 
Grand Master, Fontanes, were supposed to be 


* So late as 1830, when M. Cuvier visited this country, I 
took my son to see him at the hotel where he was staying, 
forgetting the effect it was likely to produce ; and I shall for 
ever remember the pause he made before him, and the 
melancholy tenderness with which he laid his hand on the 
head of the boy. 

1) 


34 MEMOIRS OF 


the causes of this marked distinction. ‘Towards 
the end of this year (1813) he was further em- 
ployed by Napoleon, in a manner that showed 
the estimate he had made of his character. He 
appointed him Commissaire Impérial extraor- 
dinaire, and sent him on the difficult mission 
of endeavouring to raise the people inhabiting 
the left bank of the Rhine in favour of France, 
(their new country) against the invading troops 
then marching against her. M. Cuvier was 
ordered to Mayence; but he was stopped at 
Nancy, by the entrance of the allied armies, 
and obliged to return. 

The events of 1814 happened at the moment 
when the Emperor had bestowed on him a still 
more honourable mark of his favour, by making 
him Counsellor of State. A delay of only a few 
months, however, took place in his final esta- 
blishment in the council; for Louis X VIII., who 
was very sensible to intellectual merit, again 
conferred this dignity on him, and, in the Sep- 
tember of the same year, first employed him in 
the temporary office of Commissaire du Roi. 
These favours were, in some measure, to be at- 
tributed to an introduction to the Abbé de Mon- 
tesquion, then minister, by means of MM. Royer 
Collard, Becquey, de Talleyrand, and Louis, 


BARON CUVIER. 35 


who were well acquainted with the Abbé, and 
who, by their presentation, gave him an oppor- 

tunity of profiting by the merits of M. Cuvier. 
The return of Napoleon for a while banished 
the new counsellor from his dignity, but he was 
retained by the Emperor in the Imperial Uni- 
versity. After the hurricane of the Hundred 
Days it became necessary to remodel both the 
Royal and Imperial Universities, and a_pro- 
visional superintendence was deemed necessary. 
A committee of public instruction was created 
to exercise the powers formerly belonging to 
the grand master, the council, the chancellor, 
and the treasurer of the University. M. Cu- 
vier made a part of this committee, and was at 
once appointed to the chancellorship, which 
office he retained till his death, under the most 
difficult circumstances, in the midst of the most 
opposite prejudices, and notwithstanding the 
most inveterate resistance offered to him as a 
Protestant. ‘The jesuitical tendency of those in 
power augmented the difficulties that a wise and 
disinterested man must at all times meet with, 
in trying to do good, and to prevent evil ; but 
when that man was of a different religion, it may 
easily be imagined in how delicate a situation 
he must have been often placed, and how greatly 
p 2 


ro 


36 MEMOIRS OF 


his religious faith must have increased the ob- 
stacles he had to encounter. ‘To those unac- 
quainted with the early part of M. Cuvier’s 
career, it would seem extraordinary, that all 
these high functions should be conferred on a 
naturalist by profession, but it should be con- 
sidered, that he only thus pursued his original 
destination, out of which he had been thrown 
by political events; that he had only changed 
his master, and become counsellor of state to a 
great king instead of a petty prince. From 
this period he took a very active part, not pre- 
cisely in political measures, properly so called, 
from which he by choice withdrew himself as 
much as possible, but in projects for laws, and 
every sort of administration, which especially 
belonged to the Committee of the Interior at- 
tached to the Council of State. He was also, 
generally speaking, the Commissaire du Roi, 
appointed for defending the new or ameliorated 
laws before the two Chambers. 

During the first years of the restoration of 
the Bourbons, M. Cuvier was twice offered the 
directorship for life of the Museum of Natural 
History, but he persisted in refusing it, from the 
conviction that it was much more favourable to 
the advancement of science, that this establish- 


BARON CUVIER. 37 


ment should continue under that form of admi- 
nistration, which necessitated the election of a 
yearly director, chosen by the professors, and 
appointed according to their vote. A second 
edition of the Fossil Remains was published in 
1817, the preliminary discourse of which under- 
went several more editions. The Régne Ani- 
mal was also brought out in this year, which 
classed every branch of zoology according to its 
organisation. In 1818 M. Cuvier made a jour- 
ney to England with his family and his secre- 
tary, the excellent M. Laurillard, and where he 
remained about six weeks, visiting every thing 
worthy of notice in London. His remark to 
his Majesty George IV. concerning our na- 
tural history was, that if the private collections 
could be amassed into one, they would form a 
great national museum, which would surpass 
every other. At this period the election for 
Westminster was going forward, and he fre- 
quently dwelt on the amusement he had _ re- 
ceived from being on the hustings every day. 
These orgies of liberty were then unknown in 
France, and it was a curious spectacle for a man 
who reflected so deeply on every thing which 
passed before him, to see and hear our orators 
crying out at the tops of their voices to the 


Q 


Do 


38 MEMOIRS OF 


mob, who pelted them with mud, cabbages, eggs, 
&c.; and Sir Murray Maxwell, in his splendid 
uniform, and decorated with orders, flattering 
the crowd, who reviled him, and sent at his 
head all the varieties of the vegetable kingdom. 
Nothing ever effaced this impression from M. 
Cuvier’s memory, who frequently described the 
scene with great animation. 

M. Cuvier had two objects in visiting Eng- 
land, one of which was, to observe, on the spot, 
the influence of our constitutional government, 
which was only known to him in theory. He 
conversed with several of our political cha- 
racters, he saw every thing which marked the 
application of our system upon mankind, and 
took back with him to France clear and precise 
ideas, by which he well knew how to profit in 
his future labours. It was frequently a matter 
of great astonishment to my countrymen to find 
him so well acquainted with our institutions, 
even to the details of their expenses, the period 
of their formation, and the changes they had 
undergone. ‘The other, and the great object of 
M. Cuvier’s excursion, was of a scientific nature ; 
and it is with pleasure I add, that he always 
spoke of his reception here with gratitude. ‘The 
facilities afforded him both by our savants and 


BARON CUVIER. 39 


our statesmen, the confidential communications 
he received, and the manner in which all was 
laid open to him, were frequently a source of 
happy recollection, which was as often expressed. 
Some days of the period of his sojourn in Eng- 
land were passed at Oxford, whither he was 
accompanied by his valued friend, Dr. Leach of 
the British Museum, who was his incessant cha- 
peron in this country; he returned from thence 
perfectly enchanted with the city and its great 
objects of interest, and with the distinction 
which attended his reception there. His wife 
and daughters met him at Windsor, and, after 
passing the day in visiting the castle, park, &c.,_ 
they proceeded, late in the evening, to the 
house of Sir William Herschel, who received 
them with the utmost kindness, and showed 
them his great telescope, though the night was 
too dark to profit much by this famous instru- 
ment. Another visit paid by M. Cuvier was 
often alluded to by him with pleasure; it was 
to Sir Joseph Banks’s house at Spring Grove: 
he had often been to see him in Soho Square, 
but the entertainment given to the whole party 
at Spring Grove resembled a féte champétre. 
The only thing to which M. Cuvier could not 
dD 4 


4.0 MEMOIRS OF 


reconcile himself in England was, the formality 
and length of our great dinners, the long sit- 
tings after which were always mentioned by 
him with an expression of ennui, even in his 
countenance. At one of these sittings, at Sir 
Everard Home’s, the conversation turned upon 
some political question. In the course of the dis- 
cussion M. Cuvier said, —“ But it would be very 
easy to clear up this point, if Sir Everard would 
send to his library for the first volume of Black- 
stone’s Commentaries.” Upon this Sir Everard, 
with great emphasis, exclaimed, “ Know, Mon- 
sieur, that I have not such a book in my library, 
which, thank God, only contains works of  sci- 
ence.’ To this M. Cuvier quietly replied, 
«The one does not prevent the other;” but 
never could recollect this, to him extraordinary 
boast, without a mixture of amusement and 
astonishment. While in England, M. Cuvier 
was appointed to the Académie I'rangaise, 
chiefly in consequence of the brilliant éloges 
he had read in the Academy of Sciences on its 
deceased members. His discourse upon his re- 
ception is a beautiful instance of his classical 
style of writing. Towards the end of 1818 he 
was offered the Ministry of the Interior, but the 
political conditions attached to it being such as 


BARON CUVIER. 41 


he could not conscientiously accept, he declined 
the honour. 

In 1819 M. Cuvier was appointed President 
of the Comité de lIntérieur, belonging to the 
Council of State, an office which he held under 
all changes of ministry ; because, notwithstand- 
ing its importance, it is beyond the reach of po- 
litical intrigue, and only demands order, unre- 
mitting activity, strict impartiality, and an exact 
knowledge of the laws and principles of admi- 
nistration. In this same year, Louis XVIII., 
as a mark of personal esteem, created him a 
Baron*, and repeatedly summoned him to assist 
in the cabinet councils. 

Twice had M. Cuvier held the office of Grand 
Master of the University, when the place could 
not conveniently be filled up, but he never re- 
ceived the emoluments of it; and, in 1822, when 
a Catholic bishop was raised to this dignity, he 
accepted the Grand Mastership of the Faculties 
of Protestant Theology ; on assuming which, he 
made conditions, that he should not receive any 


* A week after M. Cuvier received this title he went to 
the theatre, and in the course of the evening one of the 
actors exclaimed, in his part, “ and for all these services, the 
King has only created him a Baron.” The audience gaily 
applied the sentence to M. Cuvier, who was as much 
amused as any of them at the coincidence. 


42 MEMOIRS OF 


pecuniary reward. ‘This appointment associated 
him with the ministry, and gave him the super- 
intendence, not only of the religious, but the civil 
and political rights of his own creed, and ceased 
only with his life, although the Grand Masters 
were afterwards laymen. 

In 1824, M. Cuvier officiated, as one of the 
Presidents of the Council of State, at the coro- 
nation of Charles X.; and, in 1826, received from 
that monarch the decoration of Grand Officer 
de la Légion @’Honneur. On the Saturday he 
knew nothing of this compliment, and on Sunday 
it arrived, without, however, disturbing him from 
the delighted survey he was taking, with his 
daughter-in-law, of some alterations just made 
in his house. At this time also, his former sove- 
reign, the King of Wirtemburg, appointed him 
Commander of his Order of the Crown. 

In 1827, to M. Cuvier’s Protestant Grand 
Mastership was added the management of all 
the affairs belonging to the different religions in 
France, except the Catholic, in the Cabinet of 
the Interior, for which increase of his duties he 
also refused to accept any emolument. But this 
year was marked with the heaviest calamity the 
Baron Cuvier had yet sustained, the loss of 
his only remaining child; a pious, talented, 


Q 


BARON CUVIER. AS 


beautiful young woman of twenty-two, on the 
eve of marriage, and whose bridal chaplet 
mingled with the funeral wreath on her bier. 
Lovely in every action, lovely in person and 
manner, and rich in her attainments, no question 
ever arose as to who did or did not admire 
Clementine Cuvier; she unconsciously com- 
manded universal homage, and secured its conti- 
nuance by her lowliness of heart and her un- 
failing charity. ‘The daughter was worthy of 
the father: it may be imagined, then, how that 
father loved her, and how heavy was the visit- 
ation. But M. Cuvier, with that high sense of 
duty which had always distinguished him, felt. 
that he lived for others, and that he had no right 
to sink under the heavy load of grief imposed on 
him. With the energy that might be expected 
from such a character, he sought relief’ in his 
duties; and although many a new furrow ap- 
peared on his cheek ; although his beautiful hair 
rapidly changed to silvery whiteness; though 
the attentive observer might catch the suppressed 
sigh, and the melancholy expression of the up- 
lifted eye, no one of his important offices re- 
mained neglected ; his scientific devotion even 
increased ; his numerous protégés received the 
same fostering care, and he welcomed strangers 


4A MEMOIRS OF 


to his house with his wonted urbanity. It has 
been related by an eye-witness, that, at the first 
sitting of the Comité de l’Intérieur at which 
M. Cuvier presided after this event, and from 
which he had absented himself two months, he 
resumed the chair with a firm and placid expres- 
sion of countenance; he listened attentively to 
all the discussions of those present; but when it 
became his turn to speak, and sum up all that 
had passed, his firmness abandoned him, and his 
first words were interrupted by tears; the great 
legislator gave way to the bereaved father; he 
bowed his head, covered his face with his hands, 
and was heard to sob bitterly. A respectful and 
profound silence reigned through the whole as- 
sembly ; all present had known Clementine, and 
therefore all could understand and excuse this 
deep emotion. At length M. Cuvier raised his 
head, and uttered these few simple words : ~ 
‘* Pardon me, gentlemen; I was a father, and I 


have lost all ;” 


then, with a violent effort, he 
resumed the business of the day with his usual 
perspicuity, and pronounced judgment with his 
ordinary calmness and justice. 

In the following year (1828) appeared the 
first ofa series of twenty volumes on Ichthyology, 


a magnificent work, accompanied by the most 


BARON CUVIER. 45 


exquisite plates. In 1829, a second edition of 
the Régne Animal was published; and it is 
scarcely possible to imagine any thing finer than 
the force of that mind, which could thus seek 
for solace under the deepest affliction. These 
works were in progress long before the death of 
Mademoiselle Cuvier, and, we may safely suppose, 
were not much retarded by that grievous event. 
What was the state of the father’s mind during 
the time of her illness, may be gathered from 
a letter, published in the second part of this 
volume. 

The year 1830 saw the Baron Cuvier again 
in the lecturing chair at the Collége de France, 
where he opened a course on the History and 
Progress of Science in all Ages, and which was 
continued till the close of his earthly labours. 
In the same year he paid a second visit to 
England, and happened to be in London when 
the last revolution in France took place. He 
had long contemplated this visit, being desirous 
of personally inspecting some of the scientific 
treasures of this country; but a long delay 
(even after his congé was obtained) took place, 
owing to the death of the learned Baron Four- 
rier, the other secretary to the Académie des 
Sciences, whose duties fell on M. Cuvier till a 


4.6 MEMOIRS OF 


successor could be appointed. On the public- 
ation of the famous ordonnances of Charles X. 
and his ministers, an universal silence in public 
was observed, as if the first person who ventured 
to talk about them, was to set fire to a train of 
gunpowder. Even M. Cuvier, though so clear- 
sighted on other occasions, was completely taken 
by surprise in this instance, and partook of the 
general opinion, that ‘ this stroke of policy on 
the part of the state would lead to a lengthened 
resistance of taxes, and to partial disturbances, 
but not to any violent crisis ; ” 
so many others were, by the profound tranquil- 
lity which reigned in every part of the capital, 
he started for England on the appointed day. 
Five hours after his carriage had passed the bar- 
rier the firmg commenced in Paris, and he and 


and deceived, as 


his daughter-in-law quietly pursued their route 
by easy stages. They were overtaken on the 
road near Boulogne by the flying English, who 
gave them vague reports, and they pressed on to 
meet their letters at Calais. There, after two 
days of the deepest anxiety, during which time 
they formed twenty projects for immediate re- 
turn, and were as often retained by the certainty 
of not being able to re-enter Paris, or even pro- 
ceed on the road back, with passports dated in 


BARON CUVIER. 47 


the month of May, and leave of absence signed 
by the hand of Charles X., they at once received 
the details of the Revolution, and of the restor- 
ation to peace. The power of asking leave of 
absence, under such an accumulation of duties 
as M. Cuvier’s, was so rare, his time was so pre- 
cious to himself, and the assurances of perfect 
tranquillity in Paris, combined with the safety of 
those whom they loved, were so decided, that 
he and Mademoiselle Duvaucel determined on 
proceeding to England. Instead, however, of 
making a stay of six weeks, as they had at first 
intended, they returned in a fortnight; and to 
the happiness of those around him, M. Cuvier 
found himself, even under the government of 
the citizen king, in possession of all his honours, 
his dignities, and his important functions. 

In 1832 Baron Cuvier was made, by order of 
Louis-Philippe, a peer of France, and the ap- 
pointment of President to the entire Council of 
State only waited for the royal signature, when, 
on the 13th of May, of the same date, the noble 
being closed his earthly career. 


48 


PART II. 


TuaT portion of my work which now lies before 
me has a grandeur and extent of subject which 
none but the life of M. Cuvier could present, 
and though I have confined myself to a mere 
description of his scientific labours, it will, in 
size, exceed all the others. But thus to follow 
him through this part of his vast career, thus to 
show him in the light of a savant, is no easy 
task; for, though a simple catalogue of his pub- 
lications might have astonished by its length, it 
would have been very inadequate to my pur- 
pose. I have therefore attempted to carry my 
readers through each undertaking, by giving the 
outline of every plan, its purport, and its mode 
of execution; citing M. Cuvier’s own senti- 
ments and reflections in order to confirm that 
which is set forth, and occasionally giving even 
his own words, as examples of that style which 
was part of himself: I have also deemed it ad- 
visable to point out, in as brief a manner as pos- 
sible, the state of natural history at the time he 
appeared, that a better estimate may be formed 


BARON CUVIER. 49 


of the important revolutions which he either 
completed, or for which he laid the foundation. 
Notwithstanding the great endeavours made 
in the earlier part of the seventeenth century 
towards the progress of natural history, as a 
science, there yet remained, when M. Cuvier 
first entered the learned world, as much to 
be done as had been effected since the revival 
of letters. The perfect form in which plants 
can be preserved with comparatively little 
trouble, the small expense at which they can be 
procured, and the narrow compass in which col- 
lections can be contained, gave them great ad- 
vantages over other branches of natural history. 
Accordingly, we find that Botany had most 
profited by the exertions of several illustrious 
naturalists; it had even assumed that grouping, 
according to general organisation and structure, 
which is called the natural system ; but Zoology, 
from the greater difficulties which the study of 
it presents, was, comparatively speaking, in a 
much less advanced state. On looking back to 
the history of this science from the beginning, 
we shall see three great names, the possessors of 
which caused the most important revolutions, 
who gave fresh impulse towards its perfection, 
and who have been the oracles of the civilised 
E 


50 MEMOIRS OF 


world. ‘To be able to mark the differences of 
one being from another is the foundation of this 
science; the great number of these beings ne- 
cessitates classification, in order to assist the 
memory, and facilitate a perfect comprehension 
of their nature and properties, and the part they 
perform in creation. ‘To Aristotle belongs the 
honour of the first epoch, by having invented 
the true method, that alone which can be per- 
manent, as it is founded upon organisation, and 
is the result of personal observation. The 
writers after him, till the northern barbarians 
for a time buried all letters in obscurity, con- 
tented themselves with copying what he had 
done from one work into another, and by no 
means followed his example of seeing and jude- 
ing for themselves. During the middle ages, 
now and then an enlightened monk, for a mo- 
ment, threw a glimmering light over some 
branch of animated nature, and the first revival 
of learning presents us with many able efforts in 
this department of science. At length Linnaeus 
appeared, and formed the second era. He as- 
sembled all known living beings together, and 
classed them according to the mass which he 
thus brought before him, selecting one or two 
individual characters as the foundation of his 


. 


BARON CUVIER. ol 


clear and simple system, and by this, and by his 
ingenious binary nomenclature, not only accom- 
plished the great object of natural history, which 
is to make us acquainted with the beings them- 
selves, but by thus collecting them together, 
greatly contributed to our knowledge of their 
affinities. It was easy to be seen, however, that 
in proportion as our knowledge of nature in- 
creased, this artificial classification would scatter 
so many groups that were intended to remain 
united among themselves, that it would be 
found insufficient for the enlarged scale which 
the discoveries of every year presented to us. 
The Systema Nature then of Linneeus became 
a mere sketch of what was to be done after- 
wards; even more recent naturalists touched 
with a timid hand upon the natural grouping of 
the highest branches of the science, and it was 
reserved for a mighty genius of our own time to 
open the path to us, and to smooth the diffi- 
culties of that path, by precisely determining 
the limits of the great divisions, by exactly 
defining the lesser groups, by placing them all 
according to the invariable characters of their 
internal structure, and by ridding them of the 
accumulations of synonymes and _ absurdities 
E 2 


52 MEMOIRS OF 


which ignorance, want of method, or fertility of 
imagination had heaped upon them. 

Gifted with natural powers beyond the com- 
mon lot of mortality, guided in earliest youth 
by a sensible and rightly judging parent, and 
prepared by an excellent German education, 
M. Cuvier was still further aided by a circum- 
stance which, at first sight, seemed to be an 
obstacle to his progress. Almost excluded from 
the society of first-rate naturalists, and deprived, 
by the distracted state of France, of access to 
first-rate books, he was driven to nature herself; 
and as she, in her most minute operations, 
carries into execution that beautiful order and 
perfection which distinguishes her larger pro- 
ductions, so, to talents like those of M. Cuvier, 
did the study of the most insignificant animals 
open a vast field for future research and inves- 
tigation, His mind was peculiarly calculated to 
embrace the great whole which a mass of details 
offers; at the same time he knew, that by an 
intimate and accurate knowledge of these de- 
tails alone could he realise the comprehensive 
views which, even in his first studies, filled his 
great mind. He was of opinion, that every 
branch of science was to be rendered important 
if studied properly; no one, therefore, set a 


a ee le ,hlUh ee 


BARON CUVIER. TS 


higher value on minutiae, at the same time he was 
never once seen to lose himself in the intricacies 
and minor considerations attached to these mi- 
nutia. Kvery research, no matter how humble, 
how insignificant it might appear to the eyes of 
others, was by him converted to the furtherance 
of his great objects, the discovery and just ap- 
preciation of the truth. 

The anatomical labours of M. Cuvier tended 
to determine the physical functions of every 
animal, of each part of each animal, and to as- 
sign to the animal itself its place in the series of 
beings ; to prove, that as each of the parts of 
an organised being has a function to perform, so ~ 
does each being play its part in nature, acting 
on all that surrounds it, and contributing to 
form that whole in our planet, which excites the 
wonder and admiration of all enquirers ; a whole 
which, perhaps, takes its station in the parts of 
a still wider expanse, into which we cannot pe- 
netrate. “ All is linked together,” said M. 
Cuvier, speaking of creation, ‘all is dependent, 
all existence is chained to other existence, and 
that chain which connects them, and of which 
we can only see some comparatively insignificant 
portions, is infinite in extent, space, and time.” 
He believed that all things in this world were 


54 MEMOIRS OF 


made for some express purpose; he believed 
that all was due to one Supreme Intelligence, 
which had provided organs for fulfilling the 
ends for which all things were created. His 
method resembled that of Aristotle, Bacon, and 
Newton, for it was that of observation and ex- 
perience, and, like them, he felt that no general 
formula could be founded, no general principle 
could be established, without a vast assemblage 
of facts. He not only rejected all theories which 
were not thus founded, from a conviction that 
they led the mind astray from real observation, 
but he carefully abstained from encouraging 
any system which resulted from the discovery 
of only a small number of facts; believing that 
systems so based led their followers solely to 
study those facts which were favourable to their 
own peculiar views. 

These were the broad principles which M. 
Cuvier applied to every branch of human know- 
ledge; for, like the Greek philosopher, he was 
not ignorant of any thing, not even excepting 
the mathematical sciences, of which he under- 
stood the foundation and machinery as if he 
had studied them in the character of a profes- 
sor. That same intelligence, also, which com- 
prehended the form and organisation of the 


BARON CUVIER. HAYS) 


beings of the present and former world, had 
penetrated into the organisation of political 
bodies, and perfectly appreciated their springs 
of action, their strength, and their weaknesses. 
Thus gifted, thus instructed, M. Cuvier un- 
consciously became a central point, round which 
the scientific and learned of every class sooner 
or later rallied. He was the kind and equitable 
oracle of savans of all countries ; for, wholly di- 
vested of national prejudices, and delighting to 
dwell on that which was noble in all mankind, 
he was never, for an instant, obscured by party 
spirit, and was wholly unconscious of that su- 
percilious feeling of superiority, which is so 
hurtful to the progress of its possessor, and also 
to the progress of others. 

The earliest of M. Cuvier’s scientific labours 
were directed towards Entomology, and in them 
we behold the dawning efforts of his genius, 
the foundation of that minute and detailed ob- 
servation which so particularly distinguished all 
his researches, and of which I am about to give 
rather a lengthened description, in order to 
show that he commenced the task before him 
in a way that necessarily led to the perfection 
he afterwards attained. He has been heard 
to observe, that the wonderful things he met 

E 4 


56 MEMOIRS OF 


with in the organisation of insects raised his 
genius to elevated thoughts ; and such was his 
opinion of Entomology in later life, that he as- 
serted, ‘‘If I had not studied insects from 
choice when I was at college, I should have 
done so later, from a conviction of its necessity.” 
An anecdote is related of him by M. Audouin*, 
in his Discourse, read at the Entomological So- 
ciety of Paris, which proves still further the 
value he set upon such pursuits. A young 
student of medicine came to him one day, and 
ventured to tell him, that he had discovered 
something new and remarkable in dissecting a 
human subject.‘ Are you an Entomologist?” 
asked M. Cuvier. —* No,”’ replied the student. 
—‘ Well, then,” returned M. Cuvier, ‘“ go and 
anatomise an insect, I care not which, the 
largest you can find, then re-consider your ob- 
servation, and if it appear to be correct, I will 
believe you on your word.” The young man 
submitted cheerfully to the proof; and soon 
after, having acquired more skill and more 
judgment, went again to M. Cuvier, to thank 
him for his advice, and, at the same time, to 


* Professor of Entomology at the Jardin des” Plantes, 
having succeeded to the chair recently vacated by the death 
of M. Latreille. 


BARON CUVIER. sy ¢ 


confess his error. ‘* You see,”’ said M. Cuvier, 
smiling, ‘* that my touchstone was a good one.” 
In another part of this work I shall have 
occasion to speak of the Entomological draw- 
ings of M. Cuvier, but this is the place to show 
to what extent he carried these youthful re- 
searches. Several fragments and memoirs, from 
his pen, exist on this subject ; and among them 
is a paper, written in Latin, at the age of twen- 
ty-one, while in the chateau de Fiquainville, 
describing several Carabi*, and accompanied by 
illustrations, which were executed with the ut- 
most delicacy and fidelity. Several magnified 
details were added to the text, which were. 
prior to many afterwards given as new by pro- 
fessed Entomologists. In the same paper were 
delineations of other Coleoptera, and also of 
several Hemiptera, and various insects, accom- 
panied by descriptions. In 1791 M. Cuvier 
corresponded on the same subject with MM. 
Fabricius and Pfaff; and wrote various papers 
concerning Pediculi and other parasitical in- 
sects. ‘Some drawings, probably made about 
this period, were afterwards given by M. Cuvier 


* A tribe of insects which takes its place in the great 
order, most commonly known under the name of Beetles. 


58 MEMOIRS OF 


to M. Lamarck, consisting of the most beau- 
tiful representations of Crustacea, forming twen- 
ty-three separate pages, and containing, among 
native marine Crustacea, several exotic species. 
On coming to Paris, one of the first works 
communicated to his friends by M. Cuvier was 
a memoir, on the formation and use of a method 
in pursuing the study of natural history, and 
which he applied most happily to insects. This 
memoir was followed by several more especial 
labours, among which may be remarked, the de- 
scription of a species of wasp (Vespa nidulans), 
originally from Cayenne. In this paper he cor- 
rected an error made by Reaumur, who described 
and figured the Chalcis, a parasitical insect, 
living in wasps nests, as the female of the Vespa 
nidulans. Soon after the appearance of the 
above, a very interesting memoir was published 
on the Cloportes ( Oniscus, Lin.) in which some 
parts of the mouths of Crustacea were described 
for the first time. ‘This was soon followed by 
several others; one of the most remarkable of 
which was a critical dissertation on the species 
of crabs known to the ancients, and on the 
names then given to them. In the month of Sep- 
tember, 1797, M. Cuvier read, before the Insti- 
tute, a very curious dissertation on the manner 


BARON CUVIER. 59 


in which insects are nourished. Having esta- 
blished that the dorsal vessel is not a true heart, 
and that it does not furnish any means of circu- 
lation, it was necessary to account for the way 
in which the nourishing fluid is carried to all the 
organs. M. Cuvier proved that this juice passes 
through the cells of the intestinal canal, that it 
spreads over the interior of the body, and, en- 
circling all parts, is secreted by simple imbibi- 
tion. In this memoir he also stated, that the 
secreting organs of insects are not solid glands, 
as in all those animals which possess a heart and 
blood vessels, but that they are composed of 
spongy tubes, sometimes folded back upon them- 
selves, intimately united by trachex, and which 
may be always unrolled when time and patience 
are called in to aid the task. All these observ- 
ations were attended with a result which is 
always gratifying in natural history; they 
established insects in a very natural and distinct 
class, and, like other well directed labours, and 
well founded remarks, these discoveries induced 
others to make the same researches, and a new 
field was open to the Entomologist. If M. Cu- 
vier was at any time doubtful, he did not hesitate 
saying so: he corrected himself when he had 
been mistaken ; and even at this period, when 


60 MEMOIRS OF 


he had all his fame to make, so far from being 
annoyed at the endeavours of others, he was the 
first to encourage them, to give them his honour- 
able suffrage, and to receive as friends those who 
ventured into his province, in order to settle a 
doubtful point of science. 

The mode of circulation in the Annelides was 
not better determined than that of insects, and 
M. Cuvier also turned his attention towards 
them. It was in pursuing this enquiry that he 
told anatomists, that the red colour of the liquid 
contained in leeches does not in the least pro- 
ceed from the blood which the animal has im- 
bibed, but that it is their own blood which 
circulates in four principal vessels. This im- 
portant observation separated leeches, and ani- 
mals analogous to them, from those with white 
blood; and caused Lamarck to give the class 
to which they belong the distinct name of 
Annelides. In M. Cuvier’s great work on Com- 
parative Anatomy, all the peculiarities belong- 
ing to insects, and other articulated animals, 
were afterwards given; and as he carried his 
labours into a wider expanse, he left their ex- 
ternal forms and classification to others, and con- 
fined himself solely to their internal structure. 

After thus noticing the earliest scientific la- 


BARON CUVIER. 61 


bours of M. Cuvier, which, in fact, were the 
preparations for all that followed, I think it best 
to proceed to that on which he based the great 
works of a later period, considering the ‘Tableau 
Elémentaire, and the two editions of the Regne 
Animal, as different stages of the same work, 
and, with the Fossil Remains, and Natural History 
of Fishes, as the results of his discoveries in 
comparative anatomy. The collection of M. 
Cuvier’s lectures on this subject is preceded by 
an introductory letter, addressed to M. Mer- 
trud, in which the author submits the plan of 
his work, the necessity of such an. undertaking, 
acknowledges the assistance afforded to him, and. 
states the care with which he has revised the 
whole, previous to its publication. 

The first lecture is a sort of preliminary dis- 
course, and bears the general name of Animal 
Economy. It is, however, divided into five 
heads, viz. Organic Functions, Structure of the 
Organs, Differences of Organs, Affinities of 
Organs, and Division of Animals. From this 
first lecture I shall make a few extracts, which 
may enable my readers to form some judgment 
of the work. 

After examining the nature of the principles 
of life, the learned author establishes the general 


62 MEMOIRS OF 


conclusion, * that no body exists which has not 
once formed part of a body similar to itself, 
from which it has been detached; or, that all 
bodies have shared the life of another body, be- 
fore they themselves exercise vital motion; and 
it is even by the effect of the vital force, to 
which they then belonged, that they have be- 
come sufficiently developed to support an isolated 
life.’ From this conclusion may be deduced 
the axiom, “ that life springs from life, and no 
other life exists than that which has been _trans- 
mitted from one living body to another, in 
unimterriupted: succession. 7/7) °.)-2 .i.2°2** Demg 
unable to go back to the first origin of living 
bodies, we have no resource,” says M. Cuvier, 
“but to seek information concerning the true 
nature of the forces which animate them, in an 
examination of their composition ; that is to say, 
of their substance, and the combination of ele- 
ments which composes this substance or tissue. 
For although this tissue, and this combination, 
are in some measure the results of the action 
of the vital principles which gave them being, 
and continue to preserve them, it is evident that 
these principles can only have in them their 
source and their foundation. ‘Thus, if the first 
assemblage of these mechanical and chemical 


BARON CUVIER. 63 


elements of a living body has been effected by 
the vital principle of the body from which it de- 
scends, we cannot but find in it a similar force, 
and the causes of this force, in order to exercise 
a similar action in favour of the body, which, in 
its turn, descends from it. But, although our 
knowledge of the composition of living bodies is 
too imperfect to deduce clearly from it the et- 
fects they present to us, we may, at any rate, 
make use of that which we do know, in order to 
recognise these bodies, even when inactive, and 
to distinguish their remains after death; for in 
no unorganised bodies do we find fibrous or cel- 
lular tissue, or that multiplicity of volatile ele-. 
ments which forms the characters of organisation, 
whether actually living, or having lived. ‘Thus, 
while inanimate solids are only composed of po- 
lyhedral particles, mutually attracted by the 
faces they present; while they only resolve them- 
selves into a limited number of elementary sub- 
stances; while they are only formed by a com- 
bination of these substances, and an aggregation 
of these particles; while they only increase by 
the juxta-position of new particles, which en- 
velope the first mass by their layers ; and while 
they are only destroyed by some mechanical or 
chemical agency, which alters their combin- 


OA MEMOIRS OF 


ations; on the other hand, organised bodies, 
composed of a tissue of fibres and plates, the in- 
tervals of which are filled with fluids, resolve 
themselves almost entirely into volatile sub- 
stances, spring from bodies similar to themselves, 
from which they are only separated when they 
can act by their own strength, assimilate them- 
selves incessantly with foreign substances, and, 
introducing these substances between their par- 
ticles, increase by internal force, and at length 
perish by this internal force, by the effects 
even of their vital principle. ‘To originate in 
generation, to increase by nutrition, and to end 
by death, are the general and common charac- 
ters of all organised bodies; but if several of 
these bodies only exercise these and their neces- 
sary functions, and have only the organs requi- 
site for this comparatively limited part in cre- 
ation, there are many others which exercise 
peculiar functions, which not only require organs 
particularly adapted to them, but induce a mo- 
dification in the general functions. Of all these 
peculiar functions, feeling and moving at will 
are the most remarkable, and most influence the 
other functions. Independent of the chain 
which links these two faculties, and the double 
set of organs which they require, they yet carry 


BARON CUVIER. 65 


with them several modifications into the func- 
tions common to all organised beings, and these 
modifications more particularly belong to and 
constitute the nature of animals.” 

As one example, among many others which 
the limits of this volume will not allow me to 
insert, I shall cite M. Cuvier’s general descrip- 
tion of digestion. ‘* Vegetables, which are at- 
tached to the ground, absorb the nutritive parts 
of the fluids which they imbibe by means of 
their roots. These roots, divided to infinity, 
penetrate into the smallest spaces, and, as it 
were, seek at a distance for nourishment to the 
plant to which they belong: their action is tran- 
quil and continuous, and is only interrupted by 
a drying-up of the juices in the soil which are 
necessary to them. Animals, on the contrary, 
not being fixed, and constantly changing place, 
must carry with them the provision of juices 
essential for their nutrition; therefore they have 
received a cavity in which their alimentary sub- 
stances are placed, into the cells of which open 
the pores, or absorbing vessels, and which, accord- 
ing to the forcible expression of Boerhaave, are 
true internal roots. The size of this cavity, and 
its orifices, permit several animals to introduce 
solid substances into it; these require mechan- 

F 


66 MEMOIRS OF 


ism to divide them—liquids to dissolve them; 
and nutrition no longer commences by the im- 
mediate absorption of substances as they are 
supplied by the ground and the atmosphere ; it 
must be preceded by a multitude of preparatory 
operations, the whole of which constitute diges- 
tion.’ 

From the second division of this first lecture, 
which treats of the organs of which animals 
are composed, I shall select the passage con- 
cerning the senses, as most interesting to the 
general reader. After exposing the nervous 
system in its different bearings; after noticing 
the cellular tissue, the medullary substance, the 
muscles, the bones, the joints, the chemical ana- 
lysis of various parts of the body, &c., M. Cu- 
vier proceeds :— “* We perceive the action of ex- 
ternal bodies on our own, in proportion as the 
nerve which is affected by them communicates 
with the spinal chord, or common bundle of 
nerves, and this with the brain; a ligature, or a 
rupture, by intercepting the physical communt- 
cation, destroys the feeling. ‘The only sense 
which belongs to all animals, and which exer- 
cises its influence over nearly the whole of the 
surface of the body of each, is the touch. It 
resides in the extremities of the nerves which 


BARON CUVIER. 67 


are distributed through the skin, and makes 
known to us the resistance of bodies and their 
temperature. The other senses seem to be but 
more elevated modifications of the touch, and 
are susceptible of more delicate impressions. 
Every one knows that they are the sight, 
which resides in the eye; the hearing, which 
resides in the ear; the smell, which resides in 
the membranes inside the nose; and the taste, 
the seat of which is in the teguments of the 
tongue. ‘These are all situated at the same ex- 
tremity of the body which contains the brain, 
and which we call the head, or chief. Light, 
vibrations of the air, volatile emanations floating 
in the atmosphere, and saline particles soluble 
in water, or the saliva, are the substances which 
act on these four senses, and the organs which 
transmit their action to the nerves are especially 
adapted to each. ‘The eye presents transparent 
lenses to the light, which break its rays; the 
ear offers membranes and fluids to the air, which 
receive its agitations ; the nose draws up the air 
which goes to the lungs, and in its passage 
attracts the odorous vapours contained in it; 
and, lastly, the tongue is furnished with spongy 
papillae, which imbibe the savoury. liquids of- 
fered to it. It is by these means that we are 


pr Q 


~ 


68 MEMOIRS OF 


conscious of the things and circumstances which 
pass around us, and of the vast number of those 
which pass within us; and, independent of the 
internal pains which warn us of some disorder 
in our organisation, and the sufferings occasioned 
by hunger, thirst, and fatigue, it is by means 
of these senses that we feel the emotions of pity, 
the agonies of fear, &c. ‘These latter sensations 
are rather the effect of a reaction on the nervous 
system than immediate impressions; and as the 
sight of some imminent danger makes us fly 
without the will having had time to act, it is 
also involuntarily that we feel transport at the 
sight of a beloved object, or shed tears at the 
sight of virtue in distress. These effects of the 
nervous system arise from the numerous com- 
munications of particular nerves, called sympa- 
thetic, existing between divers ramifications of 
the general trunk; and by means of which im- 
pressions are more rapidly transmitted than by 
means of the brain. These knots of nerves, 
which, when enlarged, bear the name of gang- 
lions, are a species of secondary brains, and are 
always of greater size, and in a greater number, 
as the proportion of the principal brain is less 
considerable.” 

When, in the third division, M. Cuvier treats 


BARON CUVIER. 69 


of the differences of the organs of animals, he 
observes, that the circulation of the blood fur- 
nishes the most important variations. ‘ I'irst, 
there are animals which have no blood, such as 
insects and zoophytes; and, secondly, those 
which have it, possess it in a double or simple 
mode. ‘That is called double circulation when 
no part of the venous blood can re-enter the 
arterial trunk until it has made a certain circuit 
in the organ of respiration, which must be 
formed by the expansion of two vessels, the one 
arterial and the other venous, nearly of equal 
size, but shorter than the two principal vessels 
of the body. Such is the circulation of man, 
mammalia, birds, fishes, and many mollusca. 
In simple circulation, a great part of the venous 
blood re-enters the arteries without passing 
through the lungs, because this organ receives 
but one expansion from one branch of the ar- 
terial trunk. Such is the circulation of reptiles. 
There are yet other differences in the existence 
and position of hearts, or muscular organs des- 
tined to impel the blood. In simple. circu- 
lation there is never more than one; but when 
the circulation is double, one part is sometimes 
seated at the base of the principal artery, and 
the other at that of the pulmonary artery ; and 


oO 
Hae) 


70 MEMOIRS OF 


sometimes there is only one of these two parts. 
In the first case, the two hearts, or, rather, the 
two ventricles, may be united in one single mass, 
as in man, mammalia, and birds; or they may 
be separated, as in the cuttle-fish. When there 
is only one ventricle, it is either placed at 
the base of the artery of the body, as in snails 
and other mollusca, or at the base of the pul- 
monary artery, as in fishes. 

«The organs of respiration are equally fertile 
in remarkable differences. When the element 
which is to act on the blood is the atmospheric 
air, it penetrates even into the interior of the 
respiratory organ; but, when it is water, it 
simply glides over a surface, more or less mui- 
tiplied. These surfaces, or leaflets, are called 
branchia, and are found in fishes, and many of 
the mollusca. Instead of leaflets, there are 
sometimes tufts, or fringes. “Air penetrates into 
the body by one or several orifices. In the first 
instance, which is that of all animals with lungs, 
properly so called, the channel which receives 
the air is subdivided into a multitude of branches, 
which terminate in as many little cells, generally 
collected into two masses, which the animal has 
the power of compressing or dilating. When 
there are several openings, which we see only in 


BARON CUVIER. Th 


insects, the vessels which receive the air are 
ramified to infinity, in order to carry it to every 
part of the body without exception, and this is 
what is called respiration by means of’ trachea. 
Lastly, the zoophytes, with the exception of 
echinodermes, have no apparent organ of  re- 
spiration.” 

In the third portion of this opening lecture, 
the affinities of organs are described, and their 
manner of acting on each other. ‘ Of what 
use,” says M. Cuvier, ‘‘ would sensation be to 
us, if muscular force did not help it, even in the 
most trifling circumstances? What use could 
we make of touch, if we could not carry our - 
hands towards the palpable object? and what 
should we behold if we could not turn our eyes 
or head at pleasure? It is on this mutual de- 
pendence between the functions, and on this 
reciprocal aid, that the laws are founded which 
determine the affinities of the organs of animals ; 
which affinities are as necessary to them, as 
metaphysical or mathematical laws are to other 
parts of the creation. For it is evident, that a 
suitable harmony between those organs which 
act upon each other, is a necessary condition to 
the existence of the being to which they belong ; 
and that if one of these functions were modified 

F 4 


72 MEMOIRS OF 


in a manner incompatible with the modifications 
of others, that being could not exist. Modern 
experiments have shown, that one of the prin- 
cipal uses of respiration is to reanimate muscular 
force, by restoring to the muscular fibres their 
exhausted irritability, and, in fact, among the 
animals which breathe the air in a direct man- 
ner, we see those with double circulation, and 
not an atom of whose blood can return to the 
parts till after it has been respired. Mammalia 
and birds not only live always in the air, and 
move in it with more force than other animals 
with red blood, but each of these classes enjoys 
the faculty of moving, precisely according to 
the quantity of its respiration. Birds, for in- 
stance, are as much impregnated with air within 
as without; not only the cellular parts of their 
lungs are very considerable, but these organs 
have bags, or appendices, which are prolonged 
throughout the body. ‘Thus, in a given time, 
they consume a much greater quantity of air in 
proportion to their size than quadrupeds; and 
doubtless it is this which gives to their fibres a 
prodigious and instantaneous force, and which 
renders their flesh fit to act powerfully on those 
violent movements which sustain them in the 
air, by the simple vibrations of their wings.” 


In the concluding part of this first lecture, 


BARON CUVIER. 73 


treating of the Division of Animals, M. Cuvier 
sums up the great characters of the animal king- 
dom, -proceeding from Mammalia to Zoophytes, 
or, in other terms, the whole range of animal 
life, from man, to the simple pulp which scarcely 
merits the name of an organised being. From 
this I do not find it possible to cite any isolated 
passage, the whole is so beautifully linked to- 
gether; but the perusal of this portion alone is 
calculated to enlarge our ideas respecting cre- 
ation, to give us new thoughts concerning the 
common occurrences of life, and to lead us to a 
train of reflections, which mount upwards to the 
ereat Source of that life which is presented to . 
us in so many extraordinary and_ elaborate 
forms. ‘The rest of the work consists of a de- 
scription of these forms, external and internal ; 
the minutest details concerning the use of each 
organ are also given tous; the chemical compo- 
sition of each part is explained; the greater or 
lesser developement of this wonderful machinery 
and combination is set forth; the total absence 
of some parts; the results of these differences, 
and the action of the whole in the vast field of 
nature, all are laid before us with a clearness 
and precision that are truly admirable. For, al- 
though endowed with imagination, brilliancy of 


74 MEMOIRS OF 


ideas, and eloquence of language, M. Cuvier 
has in this, as well as his other scientific labours, 
affirmed only ‘that which he has seen and 
touched,” and, far from wishing to persuade by 
other means than positive evidence, he presents 
his readers with nothing that can draw the mind 
from the contemplation of reality. Irom this 
work we may deduce certain general rules, cer- 
tain axioms, which may apply to every part of 
animal life, in every corner of the world. Let 
us take the single instance of a person ship- 
wrecked in an unknown sea, and cast up by the 
waves on a shore wholly strange to him. ‘To- 
wards the means of life are directed the efforts 
of returning consciousness: vegetables will first 
offer themselves to his notice, as most easily 
procured; but an anatomist will know, that his 
teeth and organs of digestion were given to him 
that he might repair the exhaustion of his frame 
by animal substances, and that without these he 
will not be so healthy and strong as nature 
intended he should be. <A single bone, acci- 
dentally lying in his path, will tell him, if this 
comparatively desert country contains animals 
against which he must provide means of de- 
fence ; but what will be his joy, if this single 
bone informs him, that ruminating animals exist 


BARON CUVIER. Vo 


there. Milk, flesh, beasts of burden, skins for 
bedding and clothing, at once present them- 
selves to his view. Furnished with such sources 
of comfort, he is prepared to avoid the destruc- 
tive, to ensnare the swift, and to make use of the 
docile; and weaker in bodily force, perhaps, 
than the animals by which he is surrounded in 
his desolate habitation, yet, by the superiority 
of his intelligence, he becomes their sovereign. 
To say precisely what this great treatise dis- 
plays, in an extent of five thick octavo volumes, 
each containing from five to six hundred pages ; 
to give an exact list of every thing it embraces, 
would be to offer a dry catalogue of names, 
which would not be generally understood; but in 
order to show the manner in which it is con- 
ducted throughout, and how thoroughly it 
carries the student into every portion of an 
organised body, I submit the way in which the 
head is treated. The different bones which 
form the box called the skull, with their shapes, 
are first detailed; then follow the articulation of 
the head upon the spine, and its consequent move- 
ments; the muscles which aid these movements, 
and give force and motion to the jaws; the un- 
equal surfaces of the interior of the skull; the 
holes of the skull; the bones of the face; the 


76 ~ MEMOIRS OF 


brain and its coverings; the nerves which proceed 
from it; the different parts of the eye, and its 
consequent vision; the muscles which move the 
eye; the eyelids; the ear, and its complicated 
parts; the muscles and nerves belonging to it; 
the movements of the lower jaw; the teeth in all 
their stages; the salivary glands; the bones of 
the tongue, its muscles, and the tongue itself, 
&c. What a task thus to carry us through all 
creation! And yet the noble author considered 
this merely as a foundation for one of still 
greater magnitude, the preparations for which 
he had been carrying on during the whole of his 
active life, and the results of which preparations 
were shortly to have been given to us, had not 
death suddenly arrested his progress—had not 
the inscrutable will of the Almighty suddenly 
closed upon us the way which this great genius 
had opened to our progress. 

To the above work was awarded one of the 


> 


“prix décennaux,” instituted by Napoleon in 
1810, an account of which may be acceptable to 
the English reader. Wishing at that time to 
divert the public attention from passing events 
(the Spanish campaign, &c.), the Emperor issued 
a decree, stating, that as he was desirous of re- 


warding and encouraging every species of study 


BARON CUVIER. 77 


and labour, which could contribute to the glory of 
his empire, he had resolved to bestow prizes of 
money, every ten years, on the 9th of November, 
on the best works in every branch of science, art, 
and literature. The prizes were to be proclaimed 
by the Minister of the Interior, and the success- 
ful candidates were also to receive a medal from 
the hands of the Emperor himself, in presence 
of the princes, the dignitaries of the state, the 
great officers of the University, and the whole 
body of the Institute, assembled at the Thuilleries. 
All labours having sufficient merit were to be 
examined by a jury and judges, composed of the 
presidents and perpetual secretaries of the four- 
classes of the Institute. Each class to make a 
catalogue raisonné of the works put to the suf- 
frage ; those deemed worthy of approaching 
the prizes, to receive honourable mention ; but 
those of sufficient merit, in the opinion of the 
judges, to obtain the prize, to be noticed with 
still greater detail. All the reports and dis- 
cussions to be given to the Minister of the 
Interior, by whom they were to be kept en- 
tirely secret from the public. No judge to be 
allowed to pronounce on the merits of his own 
productions. ‘These prizes soon became an uni- 
versal theme; an exhibition of the pictures 


78 MEMOIRS OF 


painted for them took place in the Louvre, and 
every body was more or less interested. The 
juries sat, the judges pronounced sentence ; and 
because the Comparative Anatomy proceeded 
from one of the latter, though it received the 
praise due to it, the prize for this subject was 
awarded to another work. Delay took place, 
and the Emperor deemed a revision of the judg- 
ment necessary. During this revision M. Cuvier 
was in Italy, and advantage was taken of’ his 
absence to change the sentence, and recommend 
the prize to be bestowed on him. ‘The greatest 
freedom was given to discussion, in the idea that 
all would be strictly confidential on the part of 
the government ; when, to the astonishment of 
every one, the whole of the reports given to the 
Minister of the Interior was published in the 
Moniteur. Could any thing be better calculated 
to accomplish the desires of his Imperial Ma- 
jesty 2? No sooner did the affair languish, and 
people cease to talk of it, from the conviction 
that all was done, than he set the whole capital 
in a turmoil of bickering and dispute ; for every 
one had either his own cause, or that of his pro- 
téeé to defend. ‘The result proved it to be one 
of those master-strokes of policy of which Napo- 
leon was so capable ; and what was his intention 


BARON CUVIER. 79 


throughout is very evident, for the prizes were 
never even mentioned afterwards. ‘The reports, 
however, have been collected, and form a very 
curious quarto volume. 

From the writings on Comparative Anatomy, 
I naturally turn to that vast collection of the 
subjects themselves, formed by M. Cuvier at the 
Jardin des Plantes; and when I repeat, that this 
collection was not only the principal source from 
which he drew the materials for the great work 
just mentioned, but was the basis for most others, 
it is scarcely necessary for me to enter into many 
details concerning it: to its leading features I 
shall therefore confine myself. It is contained © 
in fifteen rooms of various sizes; and in these 
fifteen rooms we may verify almost every fact 
stated by M. Cuvier, by actual inspection; and 
we are lost in admiration, not only at the vast 
operations of nature, but at the mind which ap- 
preciated them, and made them known to his 
fellow men. ‘The collection should be viewed 
by beginning at the room up stairs, which is 
farthest from the entrance, and which communi- 
cates with M. Cuvier’s house. In this are the 
Mollusca, and at once assuming the character of 
a person wholly ignorant of anatomy, I cannot 
do better than describe the probable impressions 


SO MEMOIRS OF 


of this person, as he follows the suite of rooms. 
His astonishment will be first excited by finding, 
that such mis-shapen masses as the common 
oyster possess liver, heart, lungs, &c.; he will 
wonder at the various peculiarities presented by 
the inhabitants of the shells he has been ac- 
customed to find on the sea-shore, and to con- 
sider as mere toys; he will be surprised at the 
number of those insects which exist only on 
living bodies, and all disgust will be lost, in con- 
templating the variety of their forms. The two 
next rooms will present to him that complicated 
machinery which is contained in beings of a 
higher order, by which they reanimate their 
strength ; by which, in fact, they live. A step 
farther, and he will see the muscles fortified and 
brought into action by that very machinery 
which he has been examining. But the organs 
of the senses will have previously arrested his 
attention; for he there beholds in the eye the 
very powers he is exercising, and which are af- 
fording him such infinite gratification. ‘The ear, 
which gives so much pleasure, and frequently so 
much pain; the voice *, by which we impart our 


* After reading a very interesting Memoir on the organs’ 
of the voice in birds, before the Institute, in 1798; a very 


BARON CUVIER. 81 


own feelings; the reason why the power of 
uttering those delicious tones which captivate 
and soothe us into harmony, those impassioned 
sounds which cheat us into an entire forgetful- 
ness of aught but themselves; those accents of 
fury which frighten us to agony, or those grave 
and calm communications of the mind, are only 
given to man; are all there, and wonder succeeds 
to wonder, leaving it difficult for the stranger to 
decide in which room he finds most interest. 
That part of the human frame from which we 
suffer most, the teeth, and dentition, in all its 
stages, and in all animals gifted with it, are laid 
open to his view, with the important characters 
they afford for classification, and the progress 
made from the concealment of the tooth in its 
socket at the birth of the infant, to the filling up 
of the empty sockets into one solid mass, in the 
aged person. Close to human teeth are the 


celebrated anatomist present exclaimed, that M. Cuvier had 
been wrong in stating, that physiologists had not yet agreed 
concerning the mechanism of the human voice, which some 
compared to a wind, and others to a stringed instrument ; 
for that this question was now decided in favour of the wind 
instrument. “ You are deceived,” involuntarily cried another 
equally learned anatomist; “ it is a stringed instrument.” 
This second observation caused a general smile, for it proved, 
most unexpectedly, the truth of M. Cuvier’s assertion. 


G 


82 MEMOIRS OF 


enormous and solitary grinders of the two living 
species of elephants, the unchanging ivory of 
the tusks of the walrus, the fearful weapons of 
the lion and the tiger, and the sharp incisors of 
the bat. How surprised will the novice be, to 
find, that the head, which he has been accus- 
tomed to consider as one mass of bone, is, in 
mammalia, composed of several parts, and in 
fishes, divided to infinity. Deeply will he reflect, 
when, in an adjoining room, he follows, in the en- 
tire skull, the gradations of the frontal bone, 
which mark the most intelligent of mankind, to 
the animal whose only instinct is that of procur- 
ing food; and on descending the staircase, to 
find himself in the midst of human skeletons, in 
all their varieties, from the Hottentot Venus to 
the graceful being of an European drawing-room. 
For a moment, his feeling of admiration at the 
works of God, are interrupted by a contempt of 
that external beauty which has hitherto been so 
precious in his eyes; but the great room, if I 
mistake not, will banish every sentiment but 
those of awe and reverence ; for he will there 
find himself walking amid the remains of the 
most gigantic of the earth, and the enormous 
monsters which inhabit the depths of the ocean. 
The solid and ponderous members of the ele- 


BARON CUVIER. 83 


phant, the long neck of the giraffe, the massive 
bulk of the whale, the hand-like fins of the dol- 
phin, the strength and vigour of the horse, the 
solemn force of the bull, and the light and ele- 
gant action of the antelope, may all be traced in 
these frame works of creation; and as the visitor 
quits the galleries, I think I cannot be wrong in 
supposing, that he will own his personal insigni- 
ficance in the great scale, his conviction of the 
adaptation of nature to all the purposes for 
which it is intended, and will learn to respect 
that being of his own species, who, by his in- 
fluence, his personal exertion, amassed, and, by 
his wisdom, set before him, the marvellous 
works which he has just been contemplating. 
With so perfect a knowledge of the formation 
of living beings, it scarcely seems surprising that 
M. Cuvier should have made those deep re- 
searches among the fragments of the former in- 
habitants of the globe, by which his great name 
has been associated with every labour relative to 
the construction of the earth. For although 
the researches of De Saussure, De Luc, Pallas, 
and Werner, appeared to have brought geology 
to the highest perfection it could attain, it was 
M. Cuvier who gave the impulse, who made a 
science of fossil organic remains, His powerful 


G 2 


84 MEMOIRS OF 


comprehension, at the first glance, measured the 
extent of the science, appreciated its import- 
ance, and foresaw the light it would shed over 
the formation of our planet. Already, in 1796, 
he read a Memoir, at the Institute, which con- 
tained his suspicions, that no species of those 
fossil remains, so abundant in the northern parts 
of the world, belonged to animals now existing. 
He even then thought that they had formed 
beings which had been destroyed by some revo- 
lution of the globe, now replaced by others, 
perhaps equally to be destroyed. With a view 
of ascertaining the truth of these suppositions, 
he sought every means of determining the spe- 
cies, genera, and classes of these relics, by an 
unwearied inspection of all that could be found, 
by making himself acquainted with the disco- 
veries previously made, by exactly ascertaining 
the localities where these remains had been dug 
up, the nature of the soils in which they had 
been enveloped; and he eloquently invited all 
the savans of Europe to aid him in his great 
enterprise, impressing on them the importance 
of these researches, and requesting them to re- 
port their labours to him, which labours he 
promised to state in his work, and which pro- 
mise he faithfully performed. In the Prelimi- 


BARON CUVIER. 85 


nary Discourse to the Fossil Remains (which 
has been published in a separate form, has un- 
dergone several editions, and been translated 
into almost every modern language, under the 
title of « Theory of the Earth”), treating of the 
revolutions of the globe, he says, “« Antiquary of 
a new species, I have been obliged at once to 
learn how to restore these monuments of past 
times, and to decypher their meaning. I have 
been obliged to collect and bring together the 
fragments which compose them into their pri- 
mitive order; to reconstruct these ancient be- 
ings; to reproduce them, with their proportions 
and characters; and, lastly, to compare them . 
with those which now live on the surface of the 
globe.” 

To this task did M. Cuvier devote a large 
portion of his life, and his first care was, to de- 
termine the living and fossil species of elephants, 
which form the subject of the first volume. The 
plan he adopted was, to describe the osteology 
of the best known species; to point out the 
countries they inhabit; to ascertain how many 
species have been found; and, then, to compare 
them with those bones which are in a fossil state. 
He himself visited many of the spots whence 
these remains had been taken; such as Eng- 

G3 


86 MEMOIRS OF 


land, Holland, Germany, and Italy; and others 
were brought to him, in order that he might be 
an eye-witness of every thing which he endea- 
voured to prove. ‘These researches entirely set 
at rest the question concerning the existence, or, 
rather, the finding of human fossils. Such re- 
lics have never, as yet, been discovered ; and 
the Guadaloupe skeletons, which have been so 
much talked of, had probably been deposited 
in that place after shipwreck ; the soil by which 
they were enveloped being of too recent a form- 
ation to admit of any idea that they were true 
fossils, and the positions in which they laid, not 
allowing of the supposition that they had been 
purposely interred there. Also, the pretended 
histories of giants are, in this volume, entirely 
refuted; and amusing accounts are there given 
of the ignorance and credulity which caused 
them to be so generally circulated ; but on this 
occasion, as, in fact, all others, M. Cuvier’s own 
words are the best, and he writes as follows :— 
«The bones of elephants having more resem- 
blance to those of man than they have to those 
of other animals, even skilful anatomists have 
been often tempted to take them for human 
remains, and this probably occasioned the pre- 
tended discoveries of the tombs ef giants, men- 


; ieee, 


BARON CUVIER. 87 


tioned by ancient authors, and those of the 
middle ages.” ‘This example was unfailingly 
followed by more modern writers, for the mar- 
vellous is delicious food to the minds of most 
people. The great propagator cf the on dits of 
natural history, Pliny, was not, of course, want- 
ing on this occasion ; and he speaks of the sup- 
posed body of Orestes as being thirteen feet 
three inches long. Few countries have been 
without these fables, and (to continue M. Cu- 
vier’s account) ‘* one of the most celebrated 
was that of ‘Teutobochus, in the reign of 
Louis XIII., which occasioned a number of 
famous disputes, in which the actors were much 
more anxious to abuse each other than to estab- 
lish the truth. One of them, however, named 
Riolan, for a person who had never seen the 
skeleton of an elephant, showed, with consider- 
able skill, that these bones probably belonged to 
such an animal. It would appear, as far as the 
fact can be now ascertained, that on the 11th of 
January, 1615, some bones were found in a sand 
pit, near the castle of Chaumont, or Langon, 
between the towns of Montricaut, Serre, and 
Antoine. Part of them were broken by the 
workmen ; but a surgeon of Beaurepaire, named 
Mazurier, showed those which remained whole 
G 4 


88 MEMOIRS OF 


for money, in Paris and several other places, 
and, in order to excite further curiosity, he cir- 
culated a pamphlet, in which he asserted that 
they had been found in a sepulchre, thirty feet 
long, on which had been inscribed, ‘’Teutobochus 
Rex.’ It is well known that this was the name 
of the King of the Cimbri who fought against 
Marius; and, to further this supposition, M. 
Mazurier added, that fifty medals were found in 
the same place, bearing the effigy of this Roman 
consul, and the initials of his name. ‘The sur- 
geon, however, was accused of having employed 
a jesuit, named ‘Tournon, to write this pamphlet, 
and who forged the history of the sepulchre 
and the inscription. ‘The pretended inedals bore 
Gothic instead of Roman letters, and it seems 
that Mazurier never justified himself from these 
accusations of imposture.”? The bones were 
afterwards all recognised as belonging to ele- 
phants; but, notwithstanding this detection, 
there was no end to the stories about giants, and 
each country possessed its own marvellous tale. 
The city of Lucerne took for supporters to its 
coat of arms pretended giants found in 1577, near 
that place, and close by the cloister of Reyden, in 
a hole, which was accidentally formed by the 
tearing up of a large oak by the roots, in a 


BARON CUVIER. 89 


heavy gale of wind. The Council of Lucerne 
sent them to Felix Plater, a physician at Bale, 
who had a drawing made of a human skeleton, 
the size which he thought these bones indicated. 
It measured nineteen feet, and was sent, with 
the bones, back to Lucerne, where the drawing 
is still preserved. It, and the bones still in ex- 
istence, were recently inspected by M. Blumen- 
bach, who recognised the latter as belonging to 
an elephant. 

But the champions of human fossils were not 
contented with making them out of the bones 
of elephants; and having found some animal 
remains imbedded in slate, a few leagues from 
the Lake of Constance, a Jearned physician 
wrote a particular dissertation on them, entitled 
« L’ Homme Témoin du Deluge.” —* It is not 


+9 


to be refuted,’’ said he, ‘ here is the half, or 
nearly the whole of the skeleton of a man, even 
the substance of the bones, and, what is more, 
the flesh, and parts still softer than the flesh, 
are incorporated with the stone. In short, it is 
one of the rarest relics we possess of that cursed 
race which was buried under the waters.”? The 
assertions of the learned Doctor, however, va- 
nished before the penetrating eye of M. Cuvier, 
who, judging from the relative form and propor- 


90 MEMOIRS OF 


tion of the bones, decided that this fossil was no 
other than that of an aquatic salamander, of a 
gigantic size and unknown species. In 1811, 
having the power of examining the stone which 
contained this ‘ witness of the deluge,” he, in 
presence of several distinguished savans, and 
with the drawing of a salamander before him, at 
every stroke of the chisel verified his assertion. 
But to return to the elephants: Asiatic Russia 
swarms with these monstrous remains, and the in- 
habitants explain the phenomenon by supposing 
that they belong to some living subterraneous ani- 
mal partaking of the nature of the mole, and which 
they call Mammout, or Mammouth. ‘This fable 
also extends to China. Besides the relics of 
true elephants, found in America, there have 
been yet two other gigantic animals discovered ; 
the Mastodon and the Megatherium, the former 
bearing great affinity to the elephant. These 
animals have also formed a foundation for many 
absurd stories, all of which have been refuted 
by M. Cuvier’s luminous researches: he states, 
‘‘ that the great animal of Ohio was very similar 
to the elephant in its tusks and its osteology, 
with the exception of its jaws; that it very pro- 
bably had a trunk, but that in height it did not 
exceed the elephant. It was, however, longer 


BARON CUVIER. Ol 


than that quadruped, its limbs thicker, its belly 
of less volume; but, notwithstanding the little 
importance of these differences, the peculiar 
structure of its grinders suffices to establish it as 
a separate genus. It was nourished nearly in 
the same manner as the hippopotamus and wild 
boar, but it did not occasionally live in the 
water, like the former. It preferred roots, and 
the fleshy parts of vegetables, which species of 
food led it to seek an open or marshy country.” 
The bones of the Mastodon Angustidens are 
much more common in North America than 
elsewhere, and, perhaps, those of the great mas- 
todon exclusively belong to that country. They 
are better preserved and fresher than any other 
known fossils, and, nevertheless, there is not the 
least authentic testimony calculated to make us 
believe, that there is still in America, or else- 
where, any living individual. ‘Therefore, the 
accounts published, from time to time, in the 
American papers, concerning those that have 
been met with wandering through the vast fo- 
rests, or over the immense plains of this con- 
tinent, have never been confirmed, and may be 
consequently regarded as mere fables. 

After having acquired vast experience in the 
connection of organised beings with the soils in 


92 MEMOIRS OF 


which they have been preserved, and having 
decidedly proved, that the more ancient the 
formation, the more distant are its organic re- 
mains from those now existing, M. Cuvier de- 
termined to observe and describe all those con- 
tained in a limited circumference round Paris. 
Already had he employed an intelligent work- 
man*, whom he himself paid, in the quarries at 
Montmartre, to collect the bones for him which 
were almost daily found in that spot. He 
spared no expense, rewarded all contributors 
with the greatest liberality, and joyfully spent 
considerable sums on that collection, which, 
when his publications had given it the highest 
value, he afterwards presented to the Museum 
of the Jardin des Plantes, only receiving in 
return, duplicates from the public library, of 
those works which were wanting in his own 
magnificent assemblage of books. Before M. 
Cuvier found an opportunity of publishing his 
discoveries, by means of the Annales du Mu- 
séum, and when the expense of employing pro- 
fessed artists would have been too much for his 
means, he not only drew, but engraved the 
plates himself; which precious proofs of his 


* Named Varin. 


BARON CUVIER. 93 


talents are scattered through the work of which 
I am now speaking, but are more particularly 
contained in the third volume of the last edition.* 


* Had I no motive of friendship and esteem to induce me 
to make known the merits of M. Laurillard, the secretary of 
M. Cuvier, it would be but justice to mention him here, as 
one who was associated with his patron in these and all 
succeeding labours, and who proved that the great anatomist 
carried his discrimination even into the mental organisation 
of humanity. The manner in which this association was 
formed is too interesting to be passed over in silence. M. Lau- 
rillard, also from Montbéliard, left his native place in order to 
cultivate his talents for design in the capital, with a view of 
becoming professional. He was there introduced to M. 
Fréderic Cuvier, for whom he executed some drawings. He 
also made one or two for M. Cuvier, without particularly at- 
tracting his notice. One day, however, M. Cuvier came to 
his brother to ask him to disengage a fossil from its surround- 
ing mass, an office he had frequently performed. M. Lau- 
rilliard »was the only person to be found on the spot, 
and to him M. Cuvier applied in the absence of his bro- 
ther. Little aware of the value of the specimen confided 
to his care, he cheerfully set to work, and succeeded in get- 
ting the bone entire from its position. M. Cuvier, after a 
short time, returned for his treasure, and when he saw how 
perfect it was, his ecstasies became incontrollable ; he danced, 
he shook his hands, he uttered expressions of delight, till 
M. Laurillard, in his ignorance both of the importance of what 
he had done, and of the ardent character of M. Cuvier, 
thought he was mad. ‘Taking however his fossil foot in one 
hand, and dragging M. Laurillard’s arm with the other, he led 
him up stairs to present him to his wife and sister-in-law, 
saying, “ I have got my foot, and M. Laurillard found it for 
me.” It seems, that this skilful operation confirmed all 
M. Cuvier’s previous conjectures concerning a foot, the 
existence and form of which he had already guessed, but 


94 MEMOIRS OF 


This edition consists of five quarto volumes, two 
of which are divided into two parts; and among 
the numerous lights thrown upon living objects, 
and on the construction of the earth, we find 
the resurrection of numerous species of mam- 
malia, birds, reptiles, &c., making in all 168 
vertebrated animals, which form 50 genera, and 
of which fifteen are new. ‘They have been 
named by M. Cuvier, placed by him in the 
range of created beings, and belong to every 
order except Quadrumana, of which, as well as 
the human race, not a single relic has yet been _ 
found in a fossil state. All their localities have 
been stated, and all the collections mentioned 
where they have been preserved, with a labo- 
rious fidelity and extraordinary erudition. He 


for which he had long and vainly sought. So occupied 
had-he been by it, that when he appeared to be particu- 
larly absent, his family were wont to accuse him of seeking 
his fore foot. The next morning the able operator and 
draftsman was engaged as secretary ; and M. Cuvier not 
only attached to himself a powerful coadjutor, but an affec- 
tionate and faithful friend, devoted to him during life, and 
now finding his greatest happiness in doing and saying that 
which he thinks will most honour the memory of one so 
loved and revered. He is appointed, by the will of M. Cuvier, 
to finish and publish all the drawings they had made together 
for the great work, which he called the “Grande Anatomie 
compar¢e,” — and most fervently must all followers of the 
science wish for its appearance. 


BARON CUVIER. 95 


had, however, many difficulties to conquer, 
among which was that of the incredulity of 
others, who, being ignorant of the laws of or- 
ganisation, of the necessary co-existence of 
certain forms, did not comprehend how it was 
possible to re-establish an animal from the frag- 
ments of its bones scattered through the layers 
of the earth. How he triumphed will be ga- 
thered from the following extract from a letter 
written to Dr. Duvernoy, a few days after a 
meeting in which he had been obliged to dis- 
cuss some particular objections addressed to 
him. He thus wrote (1806),—* They have 
just brought me the skeleton of an anoplothe- 
rium, which is almost entire, taken from Mont- 
martre, and nearly five feet long. All my con- 
jectures have been verified, and I find that the 
animal had a tail, as long and as large as that of 
a kangaroo, which completes its singularities.” 
For the furtherance of his inspection of the 
neighbourhood of Paris, M. Cuvier associated 
the learned geologist, M. Brongniart, with him 
in his researches, who more particularly con- 
fined himself to fossil mollusca, and comparative 
observations concerning other countries. The 
principal geological result of these inspections 
was to make known the fresh water deposits 


96 MEMOIRS OF 


above the chalk, each deposit covered by a ma- 
rine deposit ; irrefragable proofs cf several irrup- 
tions and alternate retreats of the sea, in the 
basin of Paris and its environs, since the period 
of the chalk formation. This discovery was 
solely due to M. Cuvier, and it was at Fontaine- 
bleau that the truth suddenly flashed across his 
mind. ‘* Brongniart,” he cried, ‘j’ai trouvé 
Je noeud de laffaire.” ‘ Et quel est-il?”? asked 
M. Brongniart. «‘ C’est qu’il y a des terrains 
marins, et des terrains d’eau douce,”’ replied M. 
Cuvier.* It is most interesting to see how, 
after many years of uninterrupted and difficult 
investigation, of profound study and meditation, 
M. Cuvier, in his beautiful Preliminary Dis- 
course, sums up the facts which afford indis- 
putable evidence of these great phenomena. “I 
think,’ said the learned author, with MM. De 
Luc and Dolomieu, “that if there be any 
thing positive in geology, it is, that the surface 
of our globe has been the victim of a great and 
sudden revolution, the date of which cannot be 
carried back further than from five to six thou- 
sand years; that this revolution has buried, 


* « Thave solved the difficulty.” — And what is it ? ”"—« It 
is, that there are fresh water earths, and earths of salt water 


formation.” 


BARON CUVIER. 97 


and caused the disappearance of countries for- 
merly inhabited by man, and animals which are 
now known; and, on the other hand, has ex- 
posed the bottom of the water, and has formed 
from that, the countries now inhabited... . but 
these countries which are now dry had already 
been inhabited, if not by man, at least by terres- 
trial animals ; consequently one preceding revo- 
lution at least must have covered them with 
water, and, if we may judge by the different 
orders of animals of which we find the remains, 
they had perhaps been submitted to two or three 
irruptions of the sea; and these irruptions, these 
repeated retreats, have not all been slow or gra- 
dual. The greater number of the catastrophes 
which brought them about have been sudden, a 
fact easily proved by the last of all, the traces of 
which are most manifest, and which has still 
left in the North the bodies of large quadrupeds, 
seized by the ice, and by it preserved, even to 
our own times, with their skin, their fur, and 
their flesh. Had they not been frozen as soon 
as killed, putrefaction would have decomposed 
them; and this eternal frost has only prevailed 
over the places inhabited by them, in conse- 
quence of the same catastrophe which has de- 
H 


9§ MEMOIRS OF 


stroyed them: the cause, therefore, has been as 
sudden as the effect it produced.” 

The ideas of M. Cuvier on the relative ages 
of the strata of deposited soils, extending even 
to different chains of mountains, have led to the 
present system adopted by geologists, and from 
them it may be concluded, that ‘all these 
layers of deposited soils having been necessarily 
formed in a horizontal position, the most ancient 
are those which have been more or less raised 
towards a vertical line by some catastrophe, and 
the most recent are, on the contrary, the hori- 
zontal layers; because, having preserved their 
original situation, it is evident that they could 
only be formed after the revolution which 
changed the position of those which are oblique, 
which they more or less cover, and on which 
they test.” 

One of the most important questions treated 
of in this work is that of the alteration in animal 
forms; whether the forms of lost animals, which 
differ so much from those which are now living, 
really indicate species and genera distinct from 
species and genera now existing, or if time alone 
has modified the primitive forms, so as to attain 
the present form. The examination of this 
question alone would give a satisfactory answer 


BARON CUVIER. 99 


(could they be convinced) to those who believe 
in the indefinite alteration of forms in organised 
beings, and who think that, with time and ha- 
bits, each species might have made an exchange 
with another, and thus have resulted from one 
single species. However extraordinary and in- 
comprehensible this system may appear to be, 
which would take away the basis on which 
science rests, and which could only be estab- 
lished by a definition of the possible duration of 
a species in its original state, M. Cuvier se- 
riously refutes it, and destroys it with one 
objection, that of not finding intermediate mo- 
difications between an animal of the former and — 
present world, even when it approaches it most 
nearly. He gives the definition of a species, 
proves the constancy of certain conditions of 
the forms which characterise it, and presents a 
table of the variations which it is possible for it 
to undergo. In short, he demonstrates, by a 
scrupulous examination of the skeletons of mum- 
mies, that the animals living in Egypt two or 
three thousand years back, when compared with 
those which now breathe on this classic ground, 
have not, in the course of so many ages, under- 
gone any important changes of form; that even 
among the wild animals there has been no alter- 
H 2 


100 MEMOIRS OF 


ation in the skeleton which could characterise 
one race or variety. ‘‘ There is nothing,” to 
use M. Cuvier’s own words, “ which can in the 
least support the opinion, that the new genera 
which I and other naturalists have discovered or 
established among fossils, the Paleotherium, the 
Anoplotherium, &c., have been the parent 
stocks of some of the present animals, which 
only differ from them in consequence of other 
soil, climate,”? &c. Further on he continues, — 
‘* When I maintain that stony strata contain the 
bones of several genera, and moveable earths 
those of several species which no longer exist, I 
do not pretend that a new creation has been 
necessary to produce the existing species. I 
merely say that they did not exist in the places 
where we now see them, and that they have 
come from elsewhere. Tor example, let us sup- 
pose that a great irruption of the sea shall now 
cover the continent of New Holland with a 
mass of sand, or other débris; the bodies of 
kangaroos, wombats, dasyuri, perameles, flying 
paalangiste, echidna, and ornithorynchi, will 
be buried under it, and it will entirely destroy 
every species of these genera, since none of 
them now exist in other countries. Let this 


same revolution dry up the sea which covers 


BARON CUVIER. 101 


the numerous straits between New Holland and 
the continent of Asia: it will open a way for 
the elephant, the rhinoceros, the buffalo, the 
horse, the camel, the tiger, and all other Asiatic 
quadrupeds, who will people a country where 
they have been hitherto unknown. A naturalist 
afterwards living among them, and by chance 
searching into the depths of the soil on which 
this new nature lives, will find the remains of 
veings wholly different. “That which New Hol- 
land would be in the above case, Europe, Si- 
beria, and a great part of America are now, and, 
perhaps, when other countries, and New Hol- 
land itself, shall be examined, we shall find that - 
they have all undergone similar revolutions. I 
could almost say, a mutual exchange of produc- 
tions; for, carrying the supposition still further, 
after this transportation of Asiatic animals into 
New Holland, let us imagine a second revo- 
lution, which shall destroy Asia, their primitive 
country ; those who afterwards see them in 
New Holland, their second country, will be as 
embarrassed to know whence they came, as we 
can be now to find the origin of our own.” 

I am aware that the extent of the work of 
which I am speaking can scarcely be recognised 
in the few extracts I am able to make, and it is 


He 


102 MEMOIRS OF 


with a sort of fearfulness that I cite a few iso- 
lated passages, for fear of injuring the rest. 
There must, however, necessarily be a degree of 
imperfection where we can only judge by parts, 
detached from a whole, which is so beautiful 
when entire; and again impressing on my 
readers that this volume is intended to lay be- 
fore them the man himself, and describe his 
labours, not to review or criticise them, I have 
less hesitation in proceeding. 

The gradual developement of great facts, the 
doubts existing in the mind of the author at 
certain periods of his progress, the confirmation 
or dissipation of these doubts, the methods em- 
ployed to ascertain the truth, the sacrifice of one 
part of a fossil to verify another, the ingenious 
contrivances for separating the remains from the 
surrounding mass, the application of plaster mo- 
dels, which not only brought him faithful im- 
pressions of these which he could not procure, 
from distant countries, but distributed his own 
to every part of the world; are all related in 
the course of the work with the most beautiful 
simplicity. When speaking of the sarigue*, M. 
Cuvier says, ** This rich collection of the bones 
and skeletons of the animals of a former world 


* A species of opossum. 


BARON CUVIER. 103 


is doubtless an enviable possession. It has been 
amassed by nature in the quarries which environ 
our city, as if reserved by her for the researches 
and instruction of the present age. Hach day 
we discover some new relic; each day adds to 
our astonishment by demonstrating, more and 
more, that nothing which then peopled this part 
of the globe has been preserved on its present 
surface ; and these proofs will doubtless multiply 
in proportion as our interest in them is in- 
creased, and we are consequently induced to 
give them more of our attention. There is 
scarcely a block of gypsum, in certain strata, 
which does not contain bones. How many . 
millions of these bones have been already de- 
stroyed in working these quarries for the pur- 
poses of building ! How many are destroyed by 
negligence, and how many escape the most at- 
tentive workman, from the minuteness of their 
size! Some idea of this may be formed from 
the piece I am going to describe. The linea- 
ments there imprinted are so faint, that they 
must be narrowly examined in order to be re- 
cognised. Nevertheless, these lineaments are 
most precious, for they belong to an animal of 
which we find no other traces; to an animal 
which, perhaps, buried for ages, now reappears, 
H 4 


104 MEMOIRS OF 


for the first time, to the eye of the naturalist.” 
At the end of the description of the sarigue, 
M. Cuvier continues, —* I will not dilate on 
the geological consequences of this Memoir*, 
for it will be evident to all those who under- 
stand the systems relative to the theory of the 
earth, that it overturns almost every thing which 
concerns fossil remains. It has been admitted 
that the fossils of the North have been animals 
from Asia; it was also allowed that the animals 
of Asia had passed over into North America, 
and had been there buried; but it appeared 
that the American genera had come from their 
own soil, and had never extended to the coun- 
tries which now form the Old World. My dis- 
coveries lead to the contrary opinion, and this is 
the second proof I have received. I*ully per- 
suaded of the futility of all these systems, I con- 
gratulate myself whenever a well-attested fact 
destroys some one of them. ‘The greatest ser- 
vice that can be rendered to science is, carefully 
and decidedly to find the place of every thing 
before building upon it, then to begin by over- 
throwing all those fantastic edifices which choke 
up the avenues, and which prevent the entrance of 


* It was first published as a separate Memoir in the An- 
nales du Muséum 


BARON CUVIER. 105 


those men to whom the exact sciences have given 
the excellent habit of relying solely on evidence, 
or, in a dearth of positive evidence, on circum- 
stances, according to their degree of probability. 
With these precautions there is no science which 
may not almost become geometrical. Chemists 
have lately found this with regard to their pur- 
suits; and I hope the period is not far distant 
when as much will be said for anatomists.” Can 
I be mistaken, after the perusal of the last two 
passages, in agreeing with M. Cuvier on the 
advantage of finding such a collection of fossil 
remains within our reach, and from this accord- 
ance to deduce the equal advantage of having 
had such an intellect to explain, to apply, and to 
appreciate the evidences thus presented to man 
of the changes which have taken place in the 
earth which he inhabits ? 

I now have to notice the two editions of the 
Régne Animal, which, with the Tableau Elé- 
mentaire, I have already esteemed as one and 
the same work ; the first edition being a comple- 
tion of the sketch contained in the Tableau, 
and the second edition being an enlargement of 
the first, with a slight alteration in the classifica- 
tion, necessitated by the progress of discovery. 
Having used the dissecting knife through every 


106 MEMOIRS OF 


class of nature*, M. Cuvier was necessarily 
struck with the confusion of systems, their want 
of conformity to the internal structure of animals, 
and the heap of synonymes which multiplied 
species to infinity ; and, as may be seen through- 
out this work, accustomed from the earliest age 
to entertain elevated views, and to practise me- 
thod, it was absolutely necessary, even for his 
own future convenience, that he should rid clas- 
sification of the incumbrances which impeded its 
advancement. The manner in which he accom- 
plished this object, is displayed in the preface to 
the first edition of the Régne Animal, in the 
most interesting manner, together with the as- 
sistance he received from his colleagues, espe- 
cially his brother, M. Frederic Cuvier, whose 
observations on the teeth of mammalia were of 
the greatest service to him in forming some of 
his minor divisions. ‘This preface well describes 
the state in which he found the classification of 
animals when he first undertook to free it from 
its shackles, and is annexed to both editions. 
The great outlines of his system may be given 
nearly in M. Cuvier’s own words: —‘* There 


* One of M. Cuvier’s most able assistants in the dissecting 
department was M. Rousseau. 


BARON CUVIER. 107 


exist in nature four principal forms, or general 
plans, according to which all animals seem to 
have been modelled, and the ulterior divisions of 
which, whatever name the naturalist may apply 
to them, are but comparatively slight modifica- 
tions, founded on the developement, or addition 
of certain parts, which do not change the es- 
sence of the plan.’ ‘The introduction to these 
volumes contains the definition of classes, orders, 
genera, &c., a general view of that which is 
called organisation, particularly that of animals, 
its chemical composition, its forces, its intel- 
lectual and physical functions, and the applica- 
tion of method to the four great forms of the 
animal kingdom. From the latter I must be 
allowed to make a short extract. <‘* In the first 
(form), which is that of man, and the animals 
which most resemble him, the brain and the 
principal trunk of the nervous system are en- 
closed in a bony envelope, which is composed of 
the skull and vertebrae: to the sides of this mid- 
dle column are attached the ribs and bones of 
the limbs; all of which form the frame-work of 
the body. The muscles which give action to 
these bones generally cover them, and the vis- 
cera are contained in the head, and the trunk, 
or body. ‘These are styled vertebrated animals : 


108 MEMOIRS OF 


they all have red blood, a muscular heart, a 
mouth with two jaws, one above, or before the 
other, distinct organs for sight, hearing, smell, 
and taste, placed in the cavities of the face, 
never more than four limbs, the sexes always 
separated, and a similar distribution of medul- 
lary masses, and of the principal branches of the 
nervous system. When thoroughly examining 
each of the parts of this great series of animals, 
we shall always find some analogy between them 
all, even in the species the farthest from each 
other; and we can follow the gradations of the 
one same plan, from man to the last of the 
fishes. In the second form there is no skeleton, 
the muscles are only attached to the skin, which 
forms a soft envelope, contractile in various 
senses, in many species of which are engendered 
stony plates, called shells, the position and pro- 
duction of which are analogous to those of the 
mucous body to which they belong. Their ner- 
vous system and viscera are contained in this 
general envelope; the former is composed of 
several scattered masses, united by nervous 
threads, the principal of which, placed on the 
cesophagus, bear the name of brain. In general, 
they only possess the senses of taste and sight, 
and even the last is often wanting. Only one 


BARON CUVIER. 109 


family can boast of the organ of hearing ; they 
have always a complete system of circulation, 
and organs peculiarly adapted to respiration ; 
those of digestion and secretion are nearly as 
complicated as the same organs in vertebrated 
animals. ‘This second form is called that of 
molluscous animals; and although the general 
plan of their organisation is not as uniform, 
with regard to their external appearance, as that 
of vertebrated animals, there is still a greater or 
lesser degree of resemblance in the structure 
and functions of these parts. 

‘The third form is that which is to be found 
in insects, worms, &c. Their nervous system 
consists of two long cords, which traverse the 
belly lengthwise, and are enlarged from space to 
space into knots, or ganglions. The first of 
these knots is situated above the cesophagus, and 
is considered as the brain; but it is scarcely 
larger than those which are in the belly, with 
which it communicates by threads, which em- 
brace the oesophagus like a collar. ‘The envelope 
of this structure is divided by transversal folds 
into a certain number of rings, the teguments of 
which are sometimes hard, and at others soft, 
but to the interior of which the muscles are 
always attached. ‘The trunk often bears ar- 


110 MEMOIRS OF 


ticulated members on its sides, but is as often 
without. ‘These are the articulated animals, and 
it is among them that we observe the passage of 
the circulation in closed vessels, or nutrition by 
imbibition, and the corresponding passage of 
respiration in the circumscribed organs called 
trachez, or aérial vessels spread over the whole 
of the body, by means of which it is performed. 
Like the second form, there is but one family 
which possesses the organs of hearing, and those 
of the taste and sight are chiefly developed. If 
they have any jaws they are always lateral. The 
fourth form embraces all the animals known 
under the name of zoophytes, and is called that 
of radiated animals. In all the preceding, the 
organs of movement, and the senses, are sym- 
metrically disposed on the two sides of an axis ; 
they have a posterior, and an anterior face of 
dissimilar appearance. But in those now men- 
tioned, they are as if composed of rays round a 
centre, even when there are but two series of 
these rays, for then the two faces are alike. 
They approach the homogeneity of plants: 
they have no very distinct nervous system, nor 
particular organs for the senses. In some there 
are scarcely any vestiges of circulation; their 
respiratory organs are almost always on the 


BARON CUVIER. bia 


surface of their bodies ; the greater number have 
but one bag without issue for an intestine, and 
the last families only present a sort of homo- 
geneous pulp, movable, and sensible to the 
touch.” Here I must again impress on the 
reader, that M. Cuvier’s first great discovery 
was the necessity of separating this last form of 
animals from the general mass of insects and 
worms, having read his Memoir, pointing out 
the characters and limits of mollusca, echi- 
nodermes, and zoophytes, to the Society of 
Natural History in Paris, on the 10th of May, 
1795. From this he ascended to animals of more 
complicated form, for it is only a man of narrow - 
mind that can treat any part of natural history 
with contempt. All others will see in it ‘*a con- 
tinuance of that command given to Adam, to 
see, to name, and to use the creatures put under 
his control.” No branch of it, however trifling, 
but may be ennobled by the manner in which it 
is pursued ; and when the student carries all its 
wonders back to the one Great Source, the 
smallest worm and the most beautiful of his 
own species will afford him subjects for the 
deepest contemplation. 

The Régne Animal begins with that being 
which most interests us, of which there is but 


112 MEMOIRS OF 


one genus, and one species; the differences we 
observe in him being but varieties, which are 
termed races. Nothing can be more calculated 
to excite profound attention than M. Cuvier’s 
definition of Man, and it would be so much in- 
jured by selecting passages from it, that extracts 
can only be made from that portion entitled 
‘«‘ Varieties of the Human Race.” — * Three of 
these are eminently to be distinguished from 
each other; the White or Caucasian, the Yellow 
or Mongolian, the Negro or Ethiopian. The 
Caucasian, to which we (Europeans) belong, is 
remarkable for the beautiful oval form of the 
head, and from it have proceeded those people 
who have attained the greatest civilisation, and 
have held dominion over the rest. It varies in 
complexion, and the colour of the hair. ‘The 
Mongolian is recognised by its prominent cheek 
bones, flat face, narrow oblique eyes, straight 
black hair, scanty beard, and olive tint. From 
it have arisen the great empires of China and 
Japan, and by it some great conquests have been 
achieved, but its civilisation has always re- 
mained stationary. ‘The Negro race is confined 
to the south of the Atlas chain; its complexion 
is black, hair woolly, skull compressed, nose 
flattened, muzzle projecting, lips thick, and 


BARON CUVIER. 113 


nearly approaches monkies. ‘The natives which 
compose it have always remained in a com- 
paratively barbarous state. 

«The Caucasian race is subdivided into three 
great branches, and is supposed to have had its 
first origin in that group of mountains situated be- 
tween the Caspian and Black Seas. The Syrian 
branch spread to the south, and produced Assy- 
rians, Chaldeans, Arabs, Phenicians, Jews, Abys- 
sinians, and probably Egyptians. From thi 
branch, always inclined to scepticism, have arisen 
the religious doctrines most generally adopted. 
Sciences and letters have sometimes flourished 
among them, but always under some strange 
shape, or in some figurative style. The Indian, 
German, or Pelasgic branch took a still wider 
range, and the affinities of its four principal 
languages are more multiplied.i—The Sanscrit, 
which is still the sacred language of the Hindoos, 
is the parent of most of the Hindostanee tongues. 
The Pelasgic was the source whence came the 
Greek, Latin, and present dialects of the south 
of Europe. The Gothic or Teutonic, whence 
are derived the north and north-west languages, 
such as German, Dutch, English, Danish, 
Swedish, and their varieties; and, lastly, the 
Sclavonic, whence came the languages of the 

I 


114 MEMOIRS OF 


north-east, viz. the Russian, the Polish, the 
Bohemian, and the Vendean. It is this great 
and respectable branch of the Caucasian race 
which has carried philosophy, science, and art 
to their greatest perfection, and of which it has 
been the depositary for thirty centuries. ‘The 
inhabitants of the north, such as the Samoyedes, 
the Laplanders, and the Esquimaux, come, ac- 
cording to some, from the Mongolian race, and 
according to others they are the degenerated off- 
spring of the Scythian and ‘Tartaric branch of the 
Caucasian. The Americans cannot be clearly 
brought back to either of our races of the Old 
World; and yet, nevertheless, they do not 
possess a sufficiently precise and constant cha- 
racter to forma peculiar race. Their copper 
complexion is far from being enough ; their black 
hair and their beard would approach them to 
the Mongolian, if their marked features, their 
nose, equally projecting with our own, their 
large and open eyes, did not oppose this idea, 
and assimilate them to our European forms. 
Their languages are as innumerable as their 
nations; and no one has as yet been able to 
seize on demonstrative analogies between them- 
selves, or between them and the inhabitants of 
the ancient Continent.” 


BARON CUVIER. 115 


The second order of Mammalia, is that of 
the Quadrumana, or apes, who are many of 
them men without reason: the third contains 
the Carnivora, which affords lions, tigers, &c. 
and all that we can imagine of fearfulness and 
ferocity ; and yet, from whence we derive our 
faithful dogs, our domestic cats, and our most 
beautiful furs. ‘The fourth is named Marsu- 
pialia, and consists of those singular animals 
whose young are prematurely born, and take 
refuge afterwards in a pocket attached to the 
body of the mother, till they are able to take 
care of themselves. The fifth, Rodentia, is that 
in which we find squirrels, rats, beavers, hares, 
&c. The sixth, Edentata, furnishes us with 
that discusting animal the sloth, and the orni- 
thorynchus, that extraordinary native of New 
Holland, which has a beak like that of a duck, 
feet so webbed as to resemble fins, fur like that of 
a weasel, and which has by some been supposed 
to lay eggs. The seventh order is called Pachy- 
dermata, and in it we find the largest animals 
which walk on the surface of the globe, such 
as the elephant, the hippopotamus, the rhino- 
ceros, and also the horse, which has been in all 
ages the most easily adapted to the use of 
mankind. The eighth, Ruminantia, whence 

ie 


116 MEMOIRS OF 


come the cow, the camel, and the reindeer ; 
the two latter of which convey their masters 
over the hottest or the coldest regions of the 
earth ; and lastly, the ninth, or Cetacea, which 
presents us with the mighty monsters of the deep. 
These nine orders are subdivided into families, 
genera, subgenera, &c., and the most important 
species are noticed with considerable detail. 
From Mammalia, M. Cuvier proceeds to 
Birds; and after their physiological description, 
he also divides them into orders, pointing out 
the reasons of such divisions, and carrying us 
through every portion of the winged tribe. He 
first embraces the birds of prey, such as the 
vultures, who act, as it were, the part of sca- 
vengers ; the eagles who prey by day, and owls 
who thieve by night; the second contains the 
numerous genera of the Passeres, they are not 
so violent as birds of prey, properly so called, 
nor have they the decided habits of the Gal- 
linaceee, or aquatic birds, but devour insects, 
fruits, and grains; those who pursue insects 
will also feed on smaller birds, and have slender 
beaks ; and those who eat grains have thick 
beaks. The first subdivisions of this order de- 
pend on the feet, and the others on the form of 
the beaks. Among them we find our singing 


BARON CUVIER. 117 


birds, our birds of paradise, and our humming 
birds. The third order is that of the Climbers, 
such as the parrot, &c. The fourth embraces 
the Gallinaceee, whence we derive our farm- 
yard fowls, and most of our game. ‘The fifth, 
or Gralle, gives us the ostrich, the cassowary, 
the sacred ibis, &c.; and the sixth, named the 
Palmipedes, presents us with ducks, geese, 
pelicans, &c. &c. 

As this first volume is conducted, so does the 
Reégne Animal lead us through every part of the 
animal world, describing all in forcible and clear 
terms, neither saying too much nor too little, 
commenting upon whatever is most remarkable, 
viewing the affinities of these beings according 
to their just value, and giving a model for me- 
thodical arrangement, inasmuch as it approaches 
as nearly as possible to nature. It must be ob- 
served, however, of the third volume, that as the 
considerable increase of Entomology, in common 
with every other branch of natural history, ren- 
dered it impossible for one man, in a reasonable 
time, thus minutely to treat the whole series of 
life, M. Cuvier called in the assistance of M. 
Latreille for that part of the work which relates 
to Insects and Crustacea; but where the reader 
will find those enlightened views, and that beau- 

13 


118 MEMOIRS OF 


tiful method, which is every where practised by 
his great colleague. ‘* The principles on which | 
M. Cuvier’s divisions rest, will necessarily pre- 
side over all the changes which still more ex- 
tended observation will render indispensable; but 
the basis of zoological classification is for ever 
laid, and its solidity will prove, better than all 
the discourses of future naturalists, the elevated 
genius of the author.” * 

The galleries of stuffed animals at the Jardin 
des Plantes, containing thousands of species, are 
all arranged according to the system of the above 
series, the writer of which desired no better than 
to lay before the world the reasons on which he 
founded it, and to give at the same time an 
equal opportunity for correction and admiration. 
Among the specimens there placed, are those 
which he amassed for the labour I have next to 
describe, many of which he had dissected with 
the most minute attention, and which increased 
this part of the collection to the amount of 
nearly five thousand species. 

The great work on Ichthyology contains an 
application of M. Cuvier’s principles to one 
peculiar branch of natural history, and was not 


* (aurillard. 


BARON CUVIER. 119 


only intended by him as an example of the ex- 
tent of which such an undertaking is capable, 
but served the double purpose of aiding his 
further researches among fossil fishes. It was 
announced by himself in the conclusion of that 
on Fossil Remains, in the following terms :— 
«¢ ] shall now consecrate the remainder of my 
time and strength to the publication of those 
researches already made in the Natural History. 
of Fishes, but, above all, to the termination of 
my general Treatise on Comparative Anatomy.” 
Scarcely did he seem to breathe between the 
finished and the commenced undertaking; in 
fact, the materials for several were collecting at 
the same time; that which he termed his “ Ge- 
neral Treatise on Comparative Anatomy”’ was 
always in preparation; every week brought a 
fresh accumulation of notes and drawings; many 
of the latter, and all of the former, made by his 
own hand. The plan of the Ichthyology was 
laid before the public by M. Cuvier, in a Pro- 
spectus describing the state of this branch of 
the science, his actual resources, and those he 
hoped to enjoy. M. Valenciennes, now Pro- 
fessor of Mollusca to the Museum of the Jardin 
des Plantes, was called in to aid him in the in- 
numerable details attendant on such an enter- 
1 4 


120 MEMOIRS OF 


prise, and is now charged with the continuation 
of the task which his great master left unfi- 
nished. Eight volumes were published at the 
time of M. Cuvier’s death, and, since then, M. 
Valenciennes has added another; the whole to 
be completed in twenty volumes.* 

The title at once implies the nature of what is 
to follow: —* Natural History of Fishes, contain- 
ing more than Five Thousand Species of these 
Animals, described after Nature, and distributed 
according to their Affinities, with Observations 
on their Anatomy, and critical Researches on 
their Nomenclature, antient as well as modern.” 
Linneeus determined 477 species, and De Lace- 
péde 1500; thus, without calculating on the 
multiplication caused by the synonymes of these 
authors, the increase made by M. Cuvier is 
enormous. ‘Throughout the work one species is 
chosen from each group for detail, and that 
preferred which is the most interesting, or the 
easiest to procure. ‘This is described with the 
greatest minuteness, and serves not only as a 


* This ninth volume was half printed during the life of 
M. Cuvier; and he left, in manuscript of his own writing, 
enough for three or four more volumes; but this being in 
detached pieces, it will be scattered through the rest of the 
work, according to the progress of the subject. 


BARON CUVIER. Tot 


type, but a means of comparison for the charac- 
teristic but simple differences between the other 
species which compose the group. ‘The neces- 
sity of stating the different names given by 
various authors, and the discrimination required 
to separate truth from fable in that which he 
reported of their economy, demanded the ex- 
quisite judgment and profound experience which 
rendered M. Cuvier so capable of the task; and 
there was a general eagerness felt, which does 
credit to naturalists and collectors of all coun- 
tries, to offer to him every specimen, every dis- 
covery, every observation, even before the person 
so offering had himself published the particulars. . 
This was the latest work of magnitude under- 
taken by M. Cuvier; and it is easy to judge, by 
solely viewing the rapid growth of this one 
branch, how every thing advanced under his 
influence and his personal exertions, and how 
materials poured upon him from those who were 
sure of receiving justice from his hands, and 
many of whom, rendered incapable by other 
pursuits or circumstances of publishing their ob- 
servations on their own account, were delighted 
to be mentioned in his pages as among the very 
humble contributors to his glory. 


But in this publication, which is accompanied 


122 MEMOIRS OF 


by numerous and beautiful engravings, espe- 
cially those made from the drawings of M. Lau- 
rillard, on the anatomy of the perch, we find a 
new feature. M. Cuvier becomes the historian 
of that part of the science of which he treats ; 
and nothing can be more clearly or impartially 
given than the progress of Ichthyology, from the 
first certain glimpses to be met with concerning 
its existence; and the place, the means, the 
results, the influence of every labourer in the 
cause, are set before us with wonderful precision 
and order. But as this is, with the exception of 
the Memoirs on Mollusca (published at various 
times in the Annales du Muséum, and now col- 
lected into one quarto volume), the only work 
of M. Cuvier devoted to one single branch of 
natural history, it may be interesting to give an 
idea how it is conducted. The history above- 
mentioned forms, as it were, an introduction to 
the whole, and concludes in these words: — 
« As for us, the only wish we can now form, is, 
that the work which we have undertaken may 
not be found unworthy, either of the illustrious 
writers whose labours we seek to continue, or 
of the aid and encouragement we have received 
from so great a number of friends, and from the 
patrons of natural history. Happy if we could 


BARON CUVIER. 123 


hope, in our turn, that our endeavours may rank 
among those which have marked the epochs of 
science. It is to this that all our efforts tend.” 
Irom the history, M. Cuvier proceeds to give 
a general idea of the nature and organisation of 
Fishes. The following is an extract from this 
part : — ** Being aquatic, that is to say, living 
in a liquid which is heavier, and offers more re- 
sistance than air, their forces for motion have 
been necessarily disposed and calculated for pro- 
gression, and elevation, which is alsoaccomplished 
by them with ease. Hence arises that form of 
body which offers least resistance, the chief seat 
of muscular force residing in the tail, the brevity. 
of their members, the expansibility of these 
members, and the membranes which support 
them, the smooth or scaly teguments, and the 
total absence of hairs or feathers. Breathing 
only through the medium of water, that is, for 
the purpose of giving an arterial nature to their 
blood, profiting by the small quantity of oxygen 
contained in the air, which is mingled with the 
water, their blood is necessarily cold, and 
their vitality, the energy of their senses and 
movements, are consequently less than in Mam- 
malia and Birds. ‘Their brain, therefore, or ra- 
ther a composition similar to it, is proportionably 


124 MEMOIRS OF 


much smaller, and the external organs of their 
senses are not of a nature to admit of powerful 
impressions. fishes, in fact, are, of all verte- 
brated animals, those which have the least ap- 
parent signs of sensibility. Having no elastic air 
at their disposal, they have remained mute, or 
nearly so, and all those sentiments awakened 
or sustained by the voice have remained un- 
known to them. Their eyes almost immoveable, 
their bony and rigid countenance, their members 
deprived of inflexion, and every part moving at 
the same time, do not leave them any power of 
varying their physiognomy or expressing their 
emotions. ‘Their ear, enclosed on every side by 
the bones of the skull, without external conch 
or internal labyrinth, and composed only of a 
few bags and membranous canals, scarcely 
allows them to distinguish the most striking 
sounds ; and, in fact, an exquisite sense of hear- 
ing would be of very little use to those destined 
to live in the empire of silence, and around 
whom all are mute. Their sight, in the depths 
of their abode, would be little exercised, if 
the greater number of the species had not, by 
the size of their eyes, been enabled to supply 
the deficiency of light; but even in these spe- 
cies, the eye scarcely changes its direction ; still 


BARON CUVIER. 125 


less can it change its dimensions, and accom- 
modate itself to the distance of objects ; its iris 
neither dilates nor contracts, and its pupil re- 
mains the same in every degree of light. No 
tear bathes this eye, no eyelid soothes or protects 
it; and, in fishes, it is but a feeble representation 
of that beautiful, brilliant, and animated organ 
of the higher classes of animals. Procuring food 
by swimming after a prey which also swims with 
greater or lesser rapidity, having no means of 
seizing this prey but by swallowing it, a deli- 
cate sense of taste would have been useless to 
fishes had nature bestowed it on them. But 
their tongue, almost immoveable, often bony, or 
armed with dentated plates, and only receiving 
a few slender nerves, shows us that this organ is 
as little sensible as it is little necessary. Smell 
even cannot be as continually exercised by fishes 
as by animals which breathe air in a direct man- 
ner, and whose nostrils are unceasingly traversed 
by odoriferous vapours. Lastly, we come to the 
touch, which, from the surface of their bodies 
being encircled by scales, by the inflexibility of 
the rays of their members, and by the dryness of 
the membranes which envelope them, has been 


obliged to seek refuge at the end of their lips; 


126 MEMOIRS OF 


and even these, in some species, are reduced to 
a dry and insensible hardness.” 

In the whole of the chapter from which the 
above passage is selected, there is a poetical 
feeling, in which M. Cuvier rarely indulged 
when treating of science, but with which we 
find he could occasionally sport without injury 
to his subject. In the next chapter he resumes 
his more precise manner ; and the contrast is the 
more striking, as this chapter may be almost 
styled a collection of aphorisms. It speaks of 
the exterior of fishes, and is succeeded by others 
containing the osteology, myology, brain and 
nerves, nutrition, reproduction, and a general 
summing up and methodical distribution of this 
class into its great divisions, its natural families, 
&c. Irom the latter may be selected a passage 
well calculated to prevent those who study 
systems from falling into a very common error. 
« Let it not be imagined, because we place 
one genus or one family before another, that we 
consider them as more perfect, or superior to 
another in the series of beings. He only could 
pretend to do this, who would pursue the chi- 
merical project of ranging beings in one single 
line,—a project which we have long renounced. 
The more progress we have made in the study 


BARON CUVIER. 127 


of nature, the more we are convinced that this 
is one of the falsest ideas that has ever resulted 
from the pursuit of natural history ; the more we 
have been convinced of the necessity of con- 
sidering each being, each group of beings, by 
itself, and the part it plays by its properties and 
organisation, and not to make abstraction of any 
of its affinities, or any of the links which attach 
it, either to the beings nearest to it, or the most 
distant from it. Once placed in this point of 
view, difficulties vanish, all arranges itself for 
the naturalist: but systematic methods only 
embrace the nearest affinities; and by placing a 
being only between two others, they will always 
be wrong. The true method is, to view each 
being in the midst of all others: it shows all 
the radiations by which it is more or less closely 
linked with that immense network which con- 
stitutes organised nature; and it is this only 
which can give us that great idea of nature, which 
is true, and worthy of her and her Author ; but 
ten or twenty rays often would not suffice to 
express these innumerable affinities .... We shall 
therefore approach to each other those whom 
nature has approximated, without feeling ob- 
liged to put into our groups the beings she has 
not placed there; and making no scruple, after 


128 MEMOIRS OF 


having demonstrated, for example, all the species 
which will admit of being arranged in a well- 
defined genus, all the genera which may be 
placed in a well-defined family, to leave out one 
or several isolated species or genera, which are 
not attached to others in a natural manner ; 
preferring the honest avowal of these irregu- 
larities, if we may be allowed to call them so, to 
those errors which must arise from leaving these 
species, and anomalous genera, in a series, the 
characters of which they do not embrace.” 

The first great division of Fishes treated of by 
M. Cuvier, and with which the second volume 
commences, is that of the Acanthopterygu, or 
fishes with spinous rays to their fins; and fore- 
most amongst these, is the numerous family of 
the Perches, or Percoides, which occupies the 
two succeeding volumes. ‘The fourth volume 
contains the family of the Joues Cuirassées, many 
of which, and especially those of the tropical 
seas, present themselves under extraordinary 
and exaggerated forms, and to which belong 
the beautiful little sticklebacks of our running 
streams. ‘The fifth volume embraces the Scien- 
oides ; the sixth, the Sparoides, and the Menides ; 
the seventh, the Squammipennes, and the Pha- 
ryngiens Labyrinthitormes ; and the eighth and 


BARON CUVIER. 129 


ninth, the Scomberoides. Each volume is closed 
by the additions and corrections which the au- 
thors have found it requisite to make during the 
progress of their publication ; and I have offered 
this short list, because it has been a question 
often repeated, even to myself, how far this noble 
work was advanced when its progress was so 
grievously arrested. It is the intention of M. Va- 
lenciennes to proceed as rapidly as possible with 
the rest, designating those parts which are solely 
due to the exalted genius, under whose auspices 
he has become worthy of continuing this ex- 
tensive and admirable enterprise. * 


* Thave always been very much struck with one part of 
this work, and therefore cannot forbear calling the attention 
of the reader to it. It is the way in which M. Cuvier refutes 
the opinions of M. Geoffroy St. Hilaire, who had long 
opposed him with considerable warmth. As far as relates to 
Fishes, M. Cuvier, in notes at the bottom of certain pages, 
places his antagonist’s arguments in two columns, and by the 
side of them, in two others, sets forth his refutations. Nota 
word of personal feeling is added, not a single argument is 
brought in, to aid in persuading the reader that he is right ; 
there are the two systems, equally exposed, and he who pe- 
ruses them, perfectly at liberty to verify and judge for himself. 
This difference of opinion being pursued with acrimony on se- 
veral occasions by M. Geoffroy, it at last became a matter of 
discussion before the Institute ; and M. Cuvier, who had long 
remained silent with the most heroic forbearance, at length 
was induced to reply. After some little time, M. Geoftroy 
retired from this direct contest; but it is to be hoped, that 

K 


130 MEMOIRS OF 


In noticing the Ichthyology, I have had occa- 
sion to speak of M. Cuvier as the historian of 
the science to which he was devoted ; and this 
leads me to mention here, the annual reports 
made by him at the Institute, in which, from 
the age of twenty-six, he had been accustomed 
to lay before that body the labours of its mem- 
bers and correspondents, thereby forming a 
general history of science from that period till 
his death. In these “* Analyses des Parties Phy- 
siques des Travaux de l’ Académie des Sciences,” 
we see the universality of his genius and acquire- 
ments; and, like almostall hisother undertakings, 
we may consider this mass of reports, and the 
qualifications necessary for the making of them, 
as alone sufficient for the employment of a life. 
They comprehend, first, Meteoro ogy and Natural 
Philosophy in general ; secondly, Chemistry and 
Physics, properly so called, and when the explan- 
ation of the facts did not demand calculation ; 
thirdly, Mineralogy and Geology ; fourthly, Vege- 
table Physiology and Botany; fifthly, Anatomy 


the surviving friends of M. Cuvier will one day publish his 
opinions separated from his great works, so that they may be 
accessible to those who may not have either time or oppor- 
tunity to seek them in the general tenor of his publications. 


BARON CUVIER. Tot 


and Physiology; sixthly, Zoology; seventhly, 
Travels which were connected with the advance- 
ment of natural sciences: eighthly, Medicine and 
Surgery; ninthly, the Veterinary Art; and tenthly, 
Agriculture. From these analyses a just idea 
may be formed of most of the principal disco- 
veries made in all these branches of science 
during the time of M. Cuvier; for not only did 
the members and appointed correspondents of 
the Institute feel it a duty to communicate their 
endeavours to this body, but many strangers felt 
a laudable pride in submitting their efforts to 
those who would be likely to appreciate them. 
All is described by M. Cuvier in his usually 
clear and forcible language, ‘ frequently sur- 
prising even the author himself by the lucidity 
with which his own ideas and experiments are 
set forth, and sometimes creating in him new 
or different views of the subject which had long 
occupied his thoughts.” * The same fearlessness 
of rendering justice marked these reports, as 
well as the other productions of the writer; and 
from their impartiality, their truth, and beautiful 
unity, they might have been supposed rather to 
have related to times long past, than to have been 


* Dr. Duvernoy. 


K 2 


132 MEMOIRS OF 


a record of the labours of contemporaries. Not 
a word of his own opinions or feelings escapes 
him; he mentions his own works with the most 
perfect modesty and simplicity, and scrupulously 
states, with invariable fidelity, every argument 
brought forward, even against his own views 
and sentiments. 

Besides these annual reports, M. Cuvier was 
charged by the Emperor with a new task, which 
he thus announces in a letter to his friend M. Du- 
vernoy : — “ All my labours are nearly arrested 
by a work demanded by the Emperor, the greater 
part of which has devolved upon me as secretary 
to the class (of natural sciences). It is a history 
of the march and progress of the human mind 
since 1789. You may suppose to what a degree 
this is a complicated undertaking, respecting 
natural sciences; thus I have already written a 
volume, without having nearly reached the end ; 
but this history is so rich, there is such a beau- 
tiful mass of discoveries, that I have become 
interested in it, and work at it with pleasure. I 
hope it will be a striking dissertation on literary 
and philosophical history ; but above all things, I 
endeavour to point out the real views which 
ought to guide ulterior researches.” It may be 
considered as a work of the same nature as those 


Q 


BARON CUVIER. 135 


which I have just been describing, only infinitely 
greater in extent, inasmuch as it embraces a 
larger portion of time, and extends to those who 
were not in the habit of communicating with 
the Institute. 

Napoleon had conceived the bold thought of 
embracing, at one view, all that the general im- 
pulse towards learning and science had pro- 
duced since the above period; and it may be 
unhesitatingly affirmed, that the execution of 
his wishes accorded with the elevated feelings 
from which they sprang. It commences with 
one of those introductions which always rank 
among the highest efforts of M. Cuvier’s genius ; 
in which he sets before us,—if I may be allowed 
so to express myself,—the sublimity of science ; 
and is throughout remarkable for the extensive 
views it takes, and its unflinching impartiality. 
The following beautiful passage is among the 
concluding pages, which pages contain a solicit- 
ation for amendments and continued protection 
on the part of the Emperor: — “ To lead the 
mind of man to its noble destination,— a know- 
ledge of the truth, — to spread sound and whole- 
some ideas among the lowest classes of the 
people, to draw human beings from the empire 
of prejudices and passions, to make reason the 


—7 


Q 
KD 


134 MEMOIRS OF 


arbitrator and supreme guide of public opinion ; 
these are the essential objects of science. This 
is how she contributes to the advancement of 
civilization ; this is why she merits the protection 
of those governments, who, desirous of erecting 
their power on the surest foundation, form their 
basis on the common good.” ‘This report, and 
the « Analyses des Travaux,” have been collected 
together as far as 1827, and published as a sup- 
plement to the « Ciuvres complétes de Buffon,” 
edited by M. Richard, and form two octavo 
volumes. 

The active part taken by M. Cuvier, in con- 
junction with other savants, in the ‘ Dictionnaire 
des Sciences Naturelles,” and the influence of 
his name, were doubtless of infinite service to 
this valuable enterprise. His Prospectuses were 
quite as remarkable as any of his other produc- 
tions, and many writers applied to him for assist- 
ance in this respect. It was not, however, only 
when sought that he contributed his aid; but, 
saying to a young author, ‘* Let me see your 
Prospectus,” and having seen it, adding, ‘ let 
me arrange this for you,” the next day, a page 
or two of eloquence would be ready for the press, 
which could not fail to produce a favourable 
impression of the forthcoming publication. That 


Qo 


BARON CUVIER. 1359 


which announced the Dictionary I have just 
mentioned, rapidly exposes the history of science 
up to that time, and vouches for the pains taken 
by the contributors to its pages, that the extent 
to which science has lately carried her researches 
should be in every way gratified. Those great 
names with which M. Cuvier’s has been so 
often associated in France and in England, are 
mentioned in the first pages, in a manner so in- 
teresting, and so satisfactory, that I cannot resist 
the pleasure of quoting his words. The extract 
is preceded by a view of the advantages which 
science received from the precepts of Bacon, 
and is as follows: — « Nevertheless, it is pro- 
bable that Natural History would not have so 
soon arrived at the brilliant condition for which 
it had been prepared by these wise precepts, had 
not two of the greatest men who adorned the 
last century concurred, notwithstanding the op- 
posite natures of their views and characters (or, 
perhaps, by this very opposition concurred), in 
causing its sudden and extensive growth. Lin- 
nus and Bufton, in fact, seem to have possessed, 
each in his own way, those qualities which it was 
impossible for the same man to combine, and all 
of which were necessary to give a rapid impulse 
to the study of nature. Both passionately fond 
K 4 


136 MEMOIRS OF 


of this science, both thirsting for fame, both 
indefatigable in their studies, both gifted with 
sensibility, lively imaginations, and elevated 
minds; they each started in their career, armed 
with those resources which result from profound 
erudition. But each of them traced a different 
path for himself, according to the peculiar bent 
of his genius. Linnzeus seized on the distin- 
guishing characters of beings, with the most 
remarkable tact; Buffon, at one glance, em- 
braced the most distant affinities: Linneeus, 
exact and precise, created a language on pur- 
pose to express his ideas clearly, and at the same 
time concisely ; Buffon, abundant and fertile in 
expression, used his words to develope the ex- 
tent of his conceptions. No one ever exceeded 
Linneeus in impressing every one with the beau- 
ties of detail with which the Creator has profusely 
enriched every thing to which he has given life. 
No one better than Buffon ever painted the 
majesty of creation, and the imposing grandeur 
of the laws to which she is subjected. The 
former, frightened at the chaos or careless state 
in which his predecessors had left the history of 
nature, contrived, by simple methods, and short 
and clear definitions, to establish order in this 


immense labyrinth, and render a knowledge of 


BARON CUVIER. 137 


individual beings easy of attainment: the latter, 
disgusted at the dryness of antecedent writers, 
who, forthe most part, were contented with giving 
exact descriptions, knew how to interest us for 
these objects by the magic of his harmonious 
and poetical language. Sometimes the student, 
fatigued by the perusal of Linneeus, reposed 
himself with Buffon ; but always, when de- 
liciously excited by his enchanting descriptions, 
he returned to Linnaeus in order to class this 
beautiful imagery, fearing, that without such aid 
he might only preserve a confused recollection of 
its subject; and doubtless, it is not the least of 
the merits of these two authors, thus incessantly 
to inspire a wish to return to each other, although 
this alternation seems to prove, and in fact does 
prove,that, in each, something is wanting. As un. 
fortunately is but too often the case, the imitators 
of Linnzus and Buffon have precisely adopted 
the defects of each of their masters; and that 
which was in them but a slight shade in a mag- 
nificent picture, is become the principal character 
in the productions of many of their respective 
disciples. Some have only copied the dry and 
neological phrases of Linneeus, without recollect- 
ing that he himself only looked upon his system 
as the scaffolding of an edifice of much greater 


138 MEMOIRS OF 


importance, and that in the special histories which 
his numerous labours have permitted him to write, 
he has not neglected a single thing which belongs 
to the existence of the being which he describes. 
Others have only admired the general views and 
lofty style of Bufton, without remarking that he 
only decorated a series of facts, collected with 
the most judicious criticism, with these brilliant 
ornaments ; and even that nomenclature, which 
they affect to despise, is always established by him 
with great erudition, after the most careful and 
ingenious discussion.” I close this extract with 
a remark made upon M. Cuvier by M. Duvernoy, 
who has also cited the above passage in an éloge 
on his illustrious master, addressed to his dis- 
ciples at Strasburgh. —‘* May we not say, after 
this, that he who so well appreciated these great 
men, who so happily found in the one, that 
which was wanting in the other, knew how to 
unite the excellencies of both in his own writings; 
or rather, that his genius, in its originality, had 
nothing incomplete, nothing which could make 
us feel the want of the true method on one side, 
nor the absence of general views on the other.” 

A list of the articles contributed by M. Cu- 
vier to the above mentioned Dictionnaire will 
be found among the catalogue of his works at 


BARON CUVIER. 139 


the end of this volume; but that headed “Nature” 
is too important to be passed over in silence 
here ; to remain unnoticed in memoirs especially 
intended to set forth his opinions; for it contains 
the clearest and most satisfactory refutation of 
the reigning controversies that has ever been 
published in a separate form; though what these 
opinions were, may be gathered from every thing 
he has written. 

«The word Nature, like all abstract terms 
which find their way into common language, 
has assumed numerous and divers significations. 
Primitively, and according to its etymology, it 
means that which a being derives from its birth, 
in opposition to that which it may derive from 
art.... It is in the nature of an oak to grow for 
three centuries, to have hard wood, to attain a 
great size, &c. It is in that of a bird to raise 
itself in the air, to distinguish distant objects, 
&c. Man is by nature capable of education; 
his nature is weak, inconstant, &c. Each indi- 
vidual may possess, physically or morally, its 
own peculiar nature; it may be feeble or vigor- 
ous, mild or passionate, &c. 

«This word Nature is also extended to things 
which are not born, to unorganised beings in 
general, in order to designate the peculiar and 


140 MEMOIRS OF 


intrinsic qualities which they always possess. 
The nature of gold is to be heavy, yellow, and 
not liable to decomposition by air or humidity, 
&c. ‘Thus taken in its most generic acceptation, 
the nature of a thing is that which makes it 
what it is—that which distinguishes it, which 
constitutes it—in a word, its essence: and it is 
thus that we speak even of the Being of beings, 
—of Him in whom, and by whom, are all things; 
and therefore the expression applied to God, 
and to his attributes, is a most improper term 
when applied to the vilest and most perishable 
bodies. But that which exists in the nature of 
each individual, exists also in each species, and 
each genus; and thus, rising from abstraction to 
abstraction, we at length arrive at the idea of a 
general nature of all things; this embraces the 
qualities common to all beings, and the laws of 
their mutual affinities ; it is the nature of things, 
taken in its most abstract sense. Lastly, by a 
figure of speech, common to all languages, this 
term has been employed for the things them- 
selves, for the substances to which these qua- 
lities belong. Nature then is, all beings, or the 
universe, or the world; and when considered as 
contingent and in opposition to the necessary 
Being, to God, it is called Creation. Nature, 


BARON CUVIER. 141 


the world, creation, the whole of created beings, 
are, then, so many synonymes. 

«« But by another of those figures of speech to 
which all languages are prone, Nature has been 
personified; existing beings have been called 
the works of Nature, and the general affinities 
of these beings among themselves have been 
called the laws of Nature. ‘The definitive result 
of these affinities, which is a certain constancy 
of motion, a certain fixedness in the proportion 
of the species; in short, the preservation, to a 
certain degree, of the order once established; 
has been entitled the wisdom of Nature. Lastly, 
the enjoyments afforded to sensible beings have 
taken the name of the bounty of Nature. Here, 
under the name of Nature, the Creator himself 
is evidently represented; they are his works, 
his cares, his wisdom, and his goodness, which 
are thus meant. Nevertheless, it is by thus con- 
sidering Nature as a being gifted with intel- 
ligence and will, but secondary and limited with 
regard to power, that we are able to say of her, 
that she unceasingly watches over the preserv- 
ation of her works, that she makes nothing in 
vain, that she effects all by the most simple 
methods, that she contributes to the cure of dis- 
eases, but that she is sometimes overcome by the 


14.2 MEMOIRS OF 


force of malady; and other adages; many of 
which are only true in a very limited sense, and 
in a very different manner from that which they 
seem to offer at the first glance. ... In propor- 
tion as the knowledge of astronomy, physics, 
and chemistry has been extended, these sciences 
have renounced the false reasoning which re- 
sulted from the application of this figurative lan- 
guage to real phenomena. Some physiologists 
only have continued to use it, because the ob- 
scurity in which physiology is still enveloped, 
renders it necessary to attribute some reality to 
the phantoms of abstraction, in order to practise 
illusion on themselves and others, concerning 
their profound ignorance as touching vital mo- 
tion. 

«s Nevertheless, this antient idea of an active 
but subordinate principle, distinct from ordinary 
forms, and the laws of motion which should 
preside over organisation, and which should keep 
it in order, still prevails, not only in language, 
but in the systems of a great many writers, who, 
although they allow the justice of the distinc- 
tions we have now made, yet suffer themselves 
to be drawn unconsciously towards doctrines 
which have no other foundation. Such are the 
doctrines of the ‘ Scale of Nature,’ the ‘ Unity 


BARON CUVIER. 143 


of composition,’ and others similar to these, 
which have all been imagined in consequence of 
the belief in a Nature distinct from the Creator, 
and less powerful than he is, and which have no 
evident support, but in those fancied limits which 
they place to his power. 

«< That each effect may proceed from a cause, 
which cause is to be traced to an anterior cause; 
that in this manner all events, all successive 
phenomena, may be linked together ; that there 
may be no interruption in the march of nature, 
and that we may, in this sense, compare her to 
a chain, all the rings of which are attached to 
and follow each other; is evident on the least - 
reflection. ‘That the beings which exist in the 
world are so constructed as to maintain a per- 
manent order ; that they have, consequently, suf- 
ficient for all their wants; that their action and 
reaction may exist in every place, and at every 
moment, as necessary for this permanency ; 
that it may be the same with the parts of each 
being ; the very maintenance of this order teaches 
us. Lastly, that in this innumerable multi- 
tude of different beings, each, taken apart, may 
find some which resemble it more than others, 
by their internal and external forms; that it 
may be the same with these, relative to a third 


set; and that, consequently, we may be able to 


14.4 MEMOIRS OF 


group near each being, a certain number of 
other beings which approach it in different de- 
grees ; must necessarily be the case. But, that 
we ought to apply to the resemblances of these 
simultaneous beings, that which is true concern- 
ing the relation of successive phenomena and 
events; that the forms of these beings necessa- 
rily constitute a series or a chain, so that the eye 
may gradually pass from one to the other, with- 
out finding any gap, any hiatus; in short, the 
existence of a continued and regular scale in the 
forms of beings, from the stone to the man; 
this is what our three concessions by no means 
prove ; this is what is not true, whatever elo- 
quence may have been used in tracing the ima- 
ginary picture. The philosophers who have 
supported this system of a scale of beings, at 
each interruption which is pointed out to them, 
pretend, that if a step is wanting, it is hidden 
in some corner of the globe, where a fortunate 
traveller may one day discover it. Neverthe- 
less, all regions, all seas, have been explored ; 
the number of species collected increases every 
day; there are, perhaps, an hundred-fold more 
than when these paradoxical opinions began to 
be established, and none of the spaces are filled 
up; all the interruptions remain; there is no- 


BARON CUVIER. 145 


thing intermediate between birds and_ other 
classes; there is nothing between vertebrated 
animals and those which have no vertebra. The 
distinctions of true naturalists remain in all their 
force; the laws of the co-existence of organs,. 
those of their reciprocal exclusion, remain un- 
shaken. Each organised being has in concord- 
ance all that is necessary for its subsistence ; 
each great change, in one organ, produces a 
change in others. <A bird is a bird in all and 
every part ; it is the same with a fish or an insect. 
We cannot even conceive a being which, having 
certain wants, has not the power of satisfying 
them; a being which could have a part of its 
organisation allied to another part, suited to a 
different being, an intermediate being, in fact, 
that which is called a passage. 

‘¢ Hach being is made for itself, and in itself 
is complete : it may resemble other beings, each 
equally composed of what is fit for it, but none 
can be composed with a view to another, nor to 
join it to a third by affinity of form; and that 
which is true of the least plant, of the least 
animal; that which is true of the most perfect of 
animals, man; of the little world, as the ancient 
philosophers called it, is necessarily not the less 

L 


14.6 MEMOIRS OF 


true of the great world, the globe, and all its in- 
habitants. The beings which compose it, and 
which peopie it, contribute to its existence ; 
they are necessary to each other, and to the 
whole; they have been so since this existence 
has subsisted; they will be as long as it shall 
subsist. The world is like an individual, all its 
parts act on each other: we can imagine other 
worlds more or less rich, more or less peopled, 
the preservation of which rests on other means ; 
but we cannot conceive the present world de- 
prived of one or several of the classes of beings 
which inhabit it, any more than the body of 
man deprived of one or several of its systems of 
organs. 

‘«‘ There is, then, in the world, as in the body of 
man, that which is necessary, and nothing more. 
What law could have obliged the Creator unne- 
cessarily to produce useless forms, merely to fill 
up the vacancies in a scale, which is only a spe- 
culation of the mind, and which has no other 
foundation than the beauty which some philoso- 
phers discover in it? But in every thing beauty 
consists in relative fitness: the beauty of the 
world is formed by the happy concourse of 
beings which compose it, in their mutual pre- 
servation, and in that of the whole, and not in 


BARON CUVIER. 14:7 


the facility which a naturalist may find in ar- 
ranging them into a simple series. 

« Nevertheless, to the hypothesis of a con- 
tinued scale in the forms of beings, other philo- 
sophers have added that in which all beings are 
modifications of one only; or, that they have 
been produced successively, and by the deve- 
lopement of one first germ; and it is on this 
that an identity of composition for all has been 
engrafted. . . This system (as it now exists) seizes 
hold of some partial resemblances, without hav- 
ing any regard to differences ; it sees in the worm 
the embryo of the vertebrated animal; in the 
vertebrated animal with cold blood, the embryo 
of the animal with warm blood; it thus makes 
one class spring from the other; they are but 
different ages of one only; and the whole of 
animal life has the same phases as the most 
perfect individual of its species. From this na- 
turally arises the consequence that, taking the 
superior classes in an embryo state, we ought 
there to find the inferior parts, and that the 
composition of all must be alike, except the 
greater or lesser developement of certain parts. 
But these affinities, which offer something like 
plausibility when announced in general terms, 
vanish directly they are detailed, and a com- 


L 2 


~ 


148 MEMOIRS OF 


parison is made, point by point. There is not 
Jess hiatus in the affinities of parts than in the 
scale of beings; in vain, in order to escape con- 
viction, arbitrary suppositions are brought for- 
ward in the overthrow of organs incompatible 
with the links which attach them to the rest of 
the body; in vain, as a last resource, is figu- 
rative language (which no logic can penetrate) 
made use of; they are obliged to confess that 
certain parts, often numerous, are wanting in 
certain beings, without any apparent reason for 
their absence, other than because they did not 
agree with the whole of the being; and if in 
these pretended theories we seek a rational and 
general basis, what is to be found except the 
supposition of a nature limited in her mode of 
action ? 

«In fact, if we look back to the Author of 
all things, what other law could actuate him 
than the necessity of according to each being, 
whose existence is to be continued, the means 
of insuring that existence; and why could. he 
not vary his materials and his instruments ? 
Fixed laws of co-existence in organs were then 
necessary, but that was all; for, to establish 
others, there must have been a want of freedom 
in the action of the organising principle, which 


BARON CUVIER. 149 


we have shown to be mere chimera. In vain do 
they have recourse to that other axiom, of being 
obliged to make every thing by the most simple 
means. Very far from its being more simple to 
employ the same materials for different objects, 
it is easy to conceive some instances in which 
this method would have been the most compli- 
cated of all; and certainly nothing is less satis- 
factorily proved than this constant simplicity of 
means. Beauty, richness, abundance, have been 
the ways of the Creator, no less than simplicity. 

«© Whenever they who, in recent times, have 
sought to give a new form to the metaphysical 
system of pantheism, and which they have en-. 
titled ‘ Philosophy ef Nature,’ have adopted 
the two hypotheses of which we have just 
spoken, they have added a third, quite of the 
same kind. Not only each being, according to 
these, represents all others, but it has a repre- 
sentation of itself in each of its parts. The 
head is a complete body ; the skull, composed 
of vertebra, is the spine; the nose is the thorax; 
the mouth the abdomen; the upper jaw the arms, 
the lower the legs; the teeth are fingers or 
nails; and in this thorax, in these four mem- 
bers, are to be found the larynx, the ribs, the 


Q 


Lo 


150 MEMOIRS OF 


shoulder-blades, and the basin, in a word, all the 
bones. 

«We comprehend, in fact, that those who 
admit but of one single substance, of which 
every individual existence is but a manifestation, 
would have pleasure in adopting the idea that 
these manifestations succeed each other in a 
regular and progressive order; that they all 
bear the impression, and, in some measure, be- 
come the images of one common type, or essen- 
tial substance, and that each part, each part of 
a part, not only represents the special whole 
which contains it, but even the great whole 
which contains all others... .. 

“«We, however, conceive nature to be simply 
i. production of the Almighty, regulated by a 
wisdom, the laws of which can only be disco- 
vered by observation; but we think that these 
laws can only relate to the preservation and har- 
mony of the whole; that, consequently, all 
must be constituted in a manner that contributes 
to this preservation and to this harmony, but we 
do not perceive any necessity for a scale of be- 
ings, nor for an unity of composition, and we 
do not believe even in the possibility of a succes- 
sive appearance of different forms ; for it appears 
to us that, from the beginning, diversity has 


BARON CUVIER. hod 


been necessary to that harmony, and that pre- 
servation, the only ends which our reason can 
perceive in the arrangement of the world.” 

Besides the ‘* Dictionnaire des Sciences Natu- 
relles,” there was yet another work of the same 
kind to which M. Cuvier was a contributor — the 
‘‘ Dictionnaire des Sciences Médicales.” The 
most important of the papers thus destined is 
that headed «* Animal ;”’ in which, after stating 
that the power of will can only produce the 
movements for which the body is adapted, and 
that, consequently, the energy of the signs which 
it gives will bear a proportion to the greater or 
lesser perfection of the envelope, he takes a. 
rapid view of the beings which fill the interval 
between the sponge, the animality of which 
consists solely in the power of contraction ; and 
the dog, or elephant, each of whom is gifted 
with a sentiment which often bears the appear- 
ance of reason. 

I shall confine myself to the extract of that 
part which describes the lower order of animals, 
having already, when mentioning other writings, 
had occasion to speak frequently of the higher 
classes. ‘¢ A little above the sponges are the 
monades, and other microscopic animals of an 
homogeneous substance, simple and uncertain in 

L 4 


15¢ MEMOIRS OF 


form, but which move in water with greater or 
less rapidity. ‘The polypes only exceed these 
by having an invariable figure, and some dis- 
tinct members round the mouth; several of 
them, fixed to the solid masses which they them- 
selves produce, have no motion but in their 
members, and are incapable of changing place. 
The radiata, or sea-nettles, ascend in organis- 
ation, by having several ramifications of the in- 
testinal canal. ‘The echinodermes possess an 
envelope more or less hard, and their numerous 
members serve them for progressive motion. At 
this point the star form disappears, and gives 
place to the symmetrical, where similar parts are 
disposed along a line or axis. Almost all of the 
most simple of these, the intestinal worms, live in 
other animals; they have neither members, nor 
heart, nor blood vessels ; their body is elongated, 


” 


and sometimes articulated.” ‘To these succeed 
insects, &c. &c. and the whole concludes with a 
comparison between plants and animals. 

It is not the just appreciation of Linnaeus and 
Buffon only that we owe to M. Cuvier: there 
is yet another celebrated writer, whose real value 
may be gathered from his labours ; and the pro- 
found learning evinced in the notes to M. Le- 


maire’s edition of Pliny show, that M. Cuvier 


BARON CUVIER. £53 


could make even his classical attainments serve 
the science to which he was devoted. Pliny has 
frequently been magnified into a great author 
concerning natural history, and his writings 
appealed to as a most indisputable source of 
information. It seems, however, that he was 
but a skilful compiler; he copied what others 
had said before; he asserted many things from 
common report, and could by no means be 
relied on with that security which is due to 
the naturalist who describes from personal ob- 
servation. ‘Thus, although there is much in him 
to believe and to admire, considerable caution is 
requisite in the study of his pages; and it is: 
a most important service rendered to the inex- 
perienced, to have identified the animals of 
Pliny, to have shown how much is worthy of 
confidence, and what should be rejected. 

I am now about to notice a work of a very 
different character from any which have hitherto 
been presented: it is a very small duodecimo 
volume of eighty-nine pages, but it is a gem 
which owes nothing of its lustre to its size, and 
sparkles, amid other brilliants, from the exqui- 
site feeling which breathes in every line. It does 
not delight us by the charms of its eloquence, 
so much as by placing M. Cuvier before us as a 


154 MEMOIRS OF 


moralist, who derives his precepts from that 
pure light which shines on all who seek it. The 
subject is the distribution of the prizes founded 
by M. de Montyon for virtuous actions. This 
philanthropist had spent a life of usefulness, and 
particularly sought to ameliorate the condition 
of the lower classes, ‘‘ that class of beings, 


> to use M. Cuvier’s expressions, ‘ he 


which,’ 
saw exposed to poverty and disease ; forced to 
undergo severe and painful, even dangerous and 
unhealthy labours; almost entirely deprived of 
education ; particularly open to the seductions 
of vice, the torrent of passions, and brutal plea- 
sures; often obliged to listen to the suggestions 
of want and hunger, and having no resource 
against these temptations in mental acquire- 
ment, in the habit of reflection, in public esteem, 
in the hope of a better fate, or that ease of cir- 
cumstances, which in other conditions is ac- 
quired by labour and good conduct.” 

M. de Montyon left legacies to hospitals; and 
thinking, that after quitting these asylums in 
too weak a state to work, the poor needed still 
further aid, he destined a certain sum to this 
purpose. Besides this, he left funds for bestow- 
ing prizes on those who invented machines to 


be used in agriculture or mechanical arts, and 


BARON CUVIER. loo 


also on any one who should discover efficacious 
remedies for the diseases which afflict humanity, 
or diminish the danger to which workmen are 
exposed in carrying on several of their occupa- 
tions: he founded a third prize for books, which 
should instruct the poor in moral conduct and 
proper deportment; and, lastly, he instituted 
that of virtue, exclusively in favour of the poorer 
classes. ‘This prize is annually bestowed, and 
awarded by the Académie [rangaise. In 1829 
M. Cuvier was appointed, at the meeting of St. 
Louis, to inform the public how the prizes had 
been bestowed ; and his discourse on the subject 
forms the volume of which I now speak. 

In his introduction to the history of those 
who have obtained the prizes, the author says, 
“« Let us first ask the question, What is virtue ? 
An ancient philosopher answers, ‘ Remarkable 
and brilliant virtue is that which supports woe 
and labour, or which exposes itself to danger, in 
order to be useful to others, and that without 
expecting or desiring any recompense.’ The 
philosopher has well said that this is rare and 
brilliant virtue; perhaps it is even above hu- 
manity ; but let us observe, that its two prin- 
cipal characters are, usefulness to others, and 


perfect disinterestedness. But we will turn from 


156 MEMOIRS OF 


pagan antiquity, open the Gospel, and_ there 
seek an answer to the question proposed. We 
read in the Holy Writings, ‘ Love God above 
all things, and your neighbour as yourselves : 
the law and the prophets are contained in these 
two precepts.” ‘Thus, he who has followed these - 
precepts is virtuous; he will have accomplished 
the entire law. Now, what is it to love God ? 
How can we prove that we love him? It is by 
conforming to his will, by doing that which he 
orders ; and the first thing which he commands 
us to do, after loving him, is to love our neigh- 
bour as ourselves ; and our neighbours are all 
men, without distinction or exception, as the 
Gospel also teaches us in the parable of the Sa- 
maritan. ‘This command, given us by God, has 
been rendered easy and pleasing in execution by 
himself having implanted in our souls, at our 
birth, a love for our neighbours, a natural dispo- 
sition to love our fellow-creatures, to rejoice in 
their joy, and weep for their sorrows. ‘This sym- 
pathy, this soothing feeling, which religion calls 
charity, is to be found in all pure and unper- 
verted hearts, though it is not equally developed, 
equally energetic in all. We feel that which we 
owe to each other, not only justice, but succour 
to the extent of our ability. Do not to others 


BARON CUVIER. 157 


that which you would not they should do unto 
you ; and do to others as you would they should 
do unto you. These are very simple rules, to 
be comprehended even by children, and recog- 
nised by them as equitable and necessary; they 
are the foundation of all morality, and why are 
they not always followed ? It is because we are 
blinded by our passions, our inclinations, and 
our interests. We have just said that God has 
given us the feeling of love towards our neigh- 
bours, but he has also given us a love for our- 
selves, for our own preservation; this sentiment 
is not less natural than the other, and is not 
wrong, because it is necessary; it even teaches’ 
us several virtues, such as temperance for the 
sake of health, prudence to avoid danger, and 
courage for the means of extricating ourselves 
from difficulty. God tells us to love our neigh- 
bour as ourselves, that is, to tell us to love our- 
selves; but when this love of self is carried to 
excess, then it is that it merits the odious ap- 
pellation of egotism ; then it prompts us to sa- 
crifice others to ourselves, to wish to enrich 
ourselves by their losses, to reckon others as no- 
thing when our own satisfaction is concerned ; 
then does it become a guilty feeling; then does 


5>? 
it lead us to injustice and crime. It is even sad 


138 MEMOIRS OF 


and foolish to love ourselves only; and if we 
have never done any thing for others, how 
can we expect gratitude and help from them ? 
‘C’est n’étre bon a rien, de n’étre bon qu’a soi.’ * 
He who stifles in himself the feeling of compas- 
sion, and only obeys the dictates of self-love, is a 
dangerous being in society, and who ought to be 
reproved and punished in society, at least by 
contempt. We may say, that almost all the evil 
we commit arises from egotism; whilst the 
greater part of our good actions is inspired by _ 
love for our fellow-creatures. Therefore, the 
best system of education is that which teaches 
us to direct and control our self-love within its 
just limits, and, at the same time, tends to deve- 
lope and augment our love for others, our desire 
of being useful, and doing them good. These 
reflections lead us back to M. de Montyon, who, 
always animated by this desire, wished to render 
all men wiser, better, and happier. It was with 
this intention that he founded the prizes of virtue, 
the distribution of which has been confided to the 
Académie Francaise, and this is the tenth time 
of fulfilling this honourable mission... . But the 
liberality of M. de Montyon, though great, must 


* It is to be good for nothing to be only good to one’s self. 


BARON CUVIER. 159 


be limited; and a choice must be made among 
those who are presented to us, each with the 
strongest claims. It may be imagined how diffi- 
cult it is to make this choice: how painful, and 
even afflicting, it is to the judges to be obliged to 
compare, and coolly weigh actions which amount 
to sublimity ; and, while animated to enthusiasm, 
or moved almost to weakness, thus impartially 
and calmly to pronounce judgment. Besides, 
what man can flatter himself that he can be ex- 
‘empt from error in such decisions? God alone 
is the judge of virtue, because he alone can read 
our hearts, penetrate into our motives, and know 
our intentions: God alone gives to virtue its 
real reward. We can only see the exterior, and 
presume on the motives, which we are bound to 
consider as pure and upright, when the actions 
bear the appearance of disinterestedness and 
goodness.” 

Thus far I have attempted, by translation, to 
give some idea of this beautiful little volume: 
but as the account of M. Cuvier’s works draws 
near to the close, it will be desirable, occasion- 
ally, to give specimens of his style, by extracts 
from the French; and having thus stated the 
motive, these passages will be introduced when- 
ever they seem to me to be best calculated for 


160 MEMOIRS OF 


displaying his powers. ‘The following is selected 
from the “ Prix de Vertu* :”—* Nous avons a ra- 
conter les bonnes actions de quinze autres per- 
sonnes, auxquelles l’académie a décerné des 
médailles; au moment de commencer ces récits, 
nous éprouvons une crainte, celle de fatiguer nos 
lecteurs par la monotonie, et le défaut de variété, 
ces récits vont se ressembler entre eux; ce sera 
toujours de Ja charité, toujours de la bienfaisance, 
toujours un devoiment désintéressé aux infortunes 
d’autrui; et puis, il faudra toujours louer, toujours 
admirer: ce n’est pas le moyen de réveiller et 
de soutenir l’attention; l’cloge nous fatigue ou 
nous endort; un écrivain Anglais dit spirituelle- 
ment, que tous les panégyriques semblent confits 


* We have now to recount the good deeds of fifteen other 
persons, to whom the Academy has decreed medals; but as 
we commence these recitals, a fear assails us of fatiguing our 
readers by monotony, by want of variety. These histories are 
all alike; it is always charity, always benevolence, always a 
disinterested devotion to the cause of the unfortunate. These 
we must for ever praise, for ever admire ; and this is not the 
way to rouse or to fix attention. Eulogium fatigues or sends 
us to sleep, and an English writer wittily says, that all pane- 
gyrics seem to have been cooked in poppy juice. We how- 
ever will abstain from saying a single word which may appear 
to be given for the purpose of impressing these affecting cir- 
cumstances. Still more forcibly do they carry their own re- 
commendation with them; and those who are so unhappy as 
not to feel them, will not be capable of comprehending any 
eulogiums which we could add to them. 


BARON CUVIER. 161 


dans du jus des pavots. Eh bien! nous nous 
abstiendrons de dire un seul mot qui pourrait 
sembler destiné a faire valoir des actions si 
touchantes; elles se recommandent assez par 
elles-mémes; et ceux qui auraient le malheur de 
nen étre pas attendris, ne seraient pas méme en 
état de comprendre les éloges que nous pout- 
tions y ajouter.”’ 

One of the great prizes awarded on this 
occasion was five thousand francs to Louise 
Scheppler, whose history will, if I mistake not, be 
acceptable to the reader, as given by the Baron 
Cuvier. ‘* Louise Scheppler has, perhaps, car- 
ried this industrious beneficence still farther, 
for it is not one family, it is an entire country 
which enjoys the fruits of her benevolence; a 
whole country which has been vivified by the 
charity of a poor servant. In the rudest part 
of the chain of the Vosges mountains is a valley, 
almost separated from the rest of the world. 
Sixty years back it afforded but scanty nourish- 
ment to a half-civilised population, consisting 
of only eighty families, distributed in five vil- 
lages. ‘Their ignorance and their poverty 
were equally great; they neither understood 
German nor French; a patois, unintelligible to 
any but themselves, was their sole language ; 

M 


162 MEMOIRS OF 


and, what is scarcely credible, their misery had 
not softened their manners. ‘These peasants, 
like the lords of the middle ages, governed by 
force, hereditary feuds divided families, and 
more than once gave rise to acts of criminal 
violence. A pious pastor, named John Irede- 
rick Oberlin, who has since become so cele- 
brated, undertook to civilise them; and for this 
purpose, like one who knew mankind, he first 
attacked their poverty. With his own hands he 
set the example for all useful labours, and, armed 
with a pickaxe, he directed them in the con- 
struction of a good road, digging and labouring 
with them; he taught them to cultivate the po- 
tatoe; he made them acquainted with good 
vegetables and fruits; showed them how to en- 
graft, and gave them excellent breeds of cattle 
and poultry. ‘Their agriculture once perfected, 
he introduced manufactures among them, in 
order to employ superfluous hands; he gave 
them a saving-bank, and put them in communi- 
cation with the commercial houses of the neigh- 
bouring towns. As their confidence increased 
with their improvement, he, by degrees, gave 
them instruction of a higher nature. He himself 
was their schoolmaster, till he could form one 
capable of seconding his endeavours. Having 
once learned to love reading, every thing became 


8 


BARON CUVIER. 163 


easier; chosen works were brought to them “to 
aid the conversation and example of the pastor ; 
religious feelings, and, with them, mutual bene- 
volence, insinuated themselves into their hearts ; 
quarrels, crimes, and lawsuits disappeared ; and, 
if by chance, some dispute arose, they, with one 
accord, came to Oberlin, and begged him to put 
an end to it. In short, when this venerable 
man was nearly at the end of his career, he was 
able to say, that in this province, once so poor 
and thinly populated, he left three hundred fa- 
milies, regular in their habits, pious and enlight- 
ened in their sentiments, enjoying remarkable 
ease of circumstances, and provided with the > 
means of perpetuating these blessings. A young 
female peasant from one of these villages, named 
Louise Scheppler, though scarcely fifteen years 
of age, was so forcibly impressed with the virtues 
of this man of God, that, although she enjoyed 
a small patrimony, she begged to enter into his 
service, and take a part in his charitable la- 
bours. From that time she never accepted any 
wages; she never quitted him; she became his 
help, his messenger, and the guardian angel of 
the rudest huts. She afforded the inhabitants 
every species of consolation; and in no instance 
can we find a finer example of the power of feel- 
M 2 


164 MEMOIRS OF 


ing to exalt the intelligence. ‘This simple vil- 
lage girl entered into the elevated views of her 
master, even astonishing him by her happy sug- 
gestions, which he unhesitatingly adopted in his 
general plan of operation. She it was who re- 
marked the difficulty that the labourers in the 
fields experienced, in combining their agricul- 
tural employments with the care of their younger 
children, and who thought of collecting together, 
even infants of the earliest age in spacious halls, 
where, during the absence of their parents, some 
intelligent instructresses should take care of, 
amuse, teach them their letters, and exercise 
them in employments adapted to their ages. 
From this institution of Louise Scheppler arose 
the infant schools of England and France, where 
the children of the working classes, who would 
otherwise be exposed to accidents and vicious 
examples, are watched over, instructed, and pro- 
tected. ‘The honour of an idea which has pro- 
duced such beautiful results is solely due to this 
poor peasant of Ban de la Roche; to this she 
consecrated all her worldly means, and, what are 
of more value, her youth and her health. Even 
now, though advanced in years, she, without re- 
ceiving the smallest compensation, assembles a 
hundred children round her, from three to seven 


BARON CUVIER. 165 


years of age, and instructs them according to 
their capacities. The adults, thanks to M. Ober- 
lin, have no further moral wants; but there are 
yet some, who in sickness or old age have need 
of physical aid. Louise Scheppler watches over 
them, carries them broth, medicine, in short, 
every thing, not forgetting pecuniary succour. 
She has founded and regulated a sort of Mont 
de Piété *, of a peculiar kind, which would be an 
admirable institution elsewhere, if it could be 
multiplied like the infant schools; for it is 
among the very small number of those which 
merit the name given to them, for money is 
there lent without interest and without securities. 
When M. Oberlin died, he, by will, left Louise 
Scheppler to his children; the simple words of 
a dying master may be heard with interest, and 
will be more eloquent than any thing we can 
add: —‘ I leave my faithful nurse to you, my 
dear children, she who has reared you, the in- 
defatigable Louise Scheppler; to you also she 
has been a careful nurse, to you a faithful mo- 


* The Mont de Piété of Paris, managed by a company of 
individuals, was first established on the same principle as that 
of Louise Scheppler, but is now the general establishment for 
pawning, to which all the minor pawnbrokers of that city 
belong. 


uM 38 


166 MEMOIRS OF 


ther and instructress ; in short, every thing: her 
zeal has extended still further; for, like a true 
apostle of the Lord, she has gone to the villages 
where I have sent her, to gather the children 
round her, to instruct them in the will of God, 
to sing hymns, to show them the works of’ their 
all-powerful and paternal Maker, to pray with 
them, to communicate to them all the instruc- 
tions she had received from me and your own 
excellent mother. ‘The innumerable difficulties 
she met with in these holy occupations would 
have discouraged a thousand others; the surly 
tempers of the children, their patois language, 
bad roads, inclement weather, rocks, water, 
heavy rain, freezing winds, hail, deep snow, no- 
thing has daunted her. She has sacrificed her 
time and her person to the service of God. 
Judge, my dear children, of the debt you have 
contracted to her for my sake. Once more, I 
bequeath her to you; let her see, by your cares, 
the respect you feel towards the last will of a 
father, —- I am sure you will fulfil my wishes, 
you will in your turn be to her all together, 
and each individually, that which she has been 
to you.’ Messieurs and Mesdemoiselles Oberlin, 
faithful to the wishes of their father, were de- 
sirous of bestowing on Louise the inheritance of 


BARON CUVIER. 167 


a daughter; but nothing could induce this ge- 
nerous woman to lessen the small patrimony left 
by her master; and all she asked was, permis- 
sion to add the name of Oberlin to her own. 
Those who claim this honourable appellation as 
a birthright, think themselves still further ho- 
noured by her sharing the title.” 

In his office of Secretary to the Academy of 
Sciences, it was also the duty of M. Cuvier to 
read an éloge upon the deceased members of 
that body before a public meeting. As _ his 
peculiar department did not extend to the cal- 
culating sciences, the labours of those who de- 
voted themselves to such devolved upon the ~ 
other secretary ; but all the éloges written by 
M. Cuvier have been collected at various times, 
and published in successive volumes. Before I 
give an account of them, a few remarks upon 
his delivery may be desirable. The very slight 
accent of Montbeliard which might be traced in 
his conversation, entirely disappeared while read- 
ing or speaking in public; his voice could be 
heard every where without being pitched in too 
elevated a key, his articulation was remarkably 
clear and distinct without being affected, so that 
foreigners found it easier to comprehend him 
than most of the French orators, and there was 

Mm 4 


168 MEMOIRS OF 


a tone of feeling, 


which carried his auditors with him in all the 


a certain play of countenance, 


sentiments he tried to inspire. ‘There was no- 
thing in the least declamatory or theatrical, in 
order to arrest the attention; but his melodious 
tones, his elegant turn of expression, and natural 
grace of manner, gave a charm to the shortest 
phrases. These last perfections were so much 
the more remarkable, as emphasis was the fashion 
in academical discourses when he commenced 
his career, and it was like creating a new school 
to return to nature. 

I now resume the description of the ¢loges, 
which form three volumes in octavo; and, as 
several remain which have only been published 
for the members of the Institute, it is to be 
hoped that, ere long, a fourth volume will be 
added. The first contains, previous to the 
éloges, ‘ Reflections on the Progress of Sci- 
ence, and its Influence on Society,” read at the 
first annual sitting of the four academies. I 
must stop here to cite a most eloquent sketch 
from it, which leads us from the first helpless 
state of man to his present powerful condition, 
for it will give to my readers a proof of M. Cu- 
vier’s power of bringing important truths before 
us by one luminous flash from his pen. 


BARON CUVIER. 169 


*<« Jeté faible et nu a la surface du globe, 
homme paraissait crée pour une déstruction in- 
évitable: les maux l’assaillaient de toute parte, 
les remédes lui restaient cachés; mais il avoit 


* Man, who had been thrown on the surface of the globe 
in astate of feebleness and nakedness, would appear to have 
been created for inevitable destruction: evils assailed him 
on all sides, and the remedies for them appeared to be hidden 
from him; but he had been endowed with talents for their 
discovery. The first savages gathered nourishing fruits and 
wholesome roots in the forests, and thus conquered their 
most pressing wants. The first shepherds perceived that 
the stars followed a regular course, and by them directed 
their steps across the desert. Such was the origin of physi- 
cal and mathematical sciences. 

No sooner had the genius of man ascertained that it was — 
possible to combat nature by her own means, than it no 
longer rested; it watched her incessantly, and continually 
gained new conquests over her, each marked by some ameli- 
oration in the state of society. Then succeeded, without 
interruption, those meditating minds, which, being the faith- 
ful depositaries of acquired doctrines, were constantly oc- 
cupied in connecting them, in vivifying the one by the help 
of the other, and which have led us, in less than forty cen- 
turies, from the first attempts of these pastoral observers, to 
the profound calculations of Newton and Laplace, to the 
learned enumerations of Linnzus and Jussieu. ‘This precious 
inheritance, always augmenting, borne from Chaldea to 
Egypt, from Egypt to Greece, hidden during ages of misery 
and darkness, unequally spread among the people of Europe, 
has been every where followed by riches and power ; the na- 
tions who have welcomed it, have become mistresses of the 
world, and those who have neglected it have fallen into 
feebleness and obscurity. 


170 MEMOIRS OF 


recu le génie pour les découvrir. Les premiers 
sauvages cueillirent dans les foréts quelques fruits 
nourriciers, quelques racines salutaires, et subvin- 
rent ainsi 4 leurs plus pressans besoins: les pre- 
miers patres s’apercurent que les astres suivent 
une marche reglée, et s’en servirent pour diriger 
leurs courses a travers les plaines du désert. 
Telle fut l’origine des sciences mathématiques, et 
celle des sciences physiques. 

«© Une fois assuré qu’il pouvait combattre la 
nature par elle-méme, le génie ne se reposa plus; 
il ’épia sans relache, sans cesse il fit sur elle 
de nouvelles conquétes, toutes marquées par 
quelque amélioration dans l’état des peuples. 
Se succédant des-lors, sans interruption, des 
esprits méditatifs, dépositaires fideles des doc- 
trines acquises, constamment occupés de les 
lier, de les vivifier, les unes par les autres, nous 
ont conduits, en moins de quarante siécles, des 
premiers essais de ces observateurs agrestes aux 
profonds calculs des Newton et des Laplace, aux 
énumérations savantes des Linneeus et des Jus- 
sicu. Ce précieux heéritage, toujours accru, 
porté de la Chaldée en Egypte, de Il’Egypte 
dans la Gréce, caché pendant des siecles de mal- 
heur et de ténebres, recouvré a des époques 
plus heureuses, inégalement répandu parmi les 


BARON CUVIER. 171 


peuples de l'Europe, a été suivi partout de la 
richesse et du pouvoir; les nations qui l’ont re- 
cueilli sont devenues les maitresses du’ monde ; 
celles qui l’ont négligé sont tombées dans la fai- 
blesse et dans Pobscurité.”’ 

The first éloge was read on the 5th of April, 
1800, and is that of the venerable Daubenton, 
who, it will be recollected, was the colleague of 
M. de Buffon, born in the same town with him, 
and chosen by him to aid his scientific labours. 
The reasons of this choice are given by M. Cue 
vier, who first describes Buffon as a man of in- 
dependent fortune, whose personal and mental 
attractions, and violent thirst for pleasure, 
seemed to cast his destiny in any other mould 
than that of science, but who nevertheless found 
himself irresistibly drawn towards it, the surest 
sion of his extraordinary talents. Long uncer- 
tain to what object he should devote his genius, 
he tried several pursuits, and at length fixed on 
natural history. From the first he measured it 
in its whole extent; he, at one glance, perceived 
what he had to do; what was in his own power 
to effect, and in what he required assistance. I 
would fain quote all that M. Cuvier says of his 
predecessor; but a few of the leading points of 
the different ¢loges are all that can be offered 


172 MEMOIRS OF 


here, in order to give an idea of their nature, 
their variety, and their beauty. Continuing to 
speak of M. de Buffon, M. Cuvier states, that, 
gifted with the most ardent imagination, and 
possessing a pen that was the echo of that ima- 
gination, viewing nature in all its activity and 
freshness, and deeply impressed with it as a 
whole system of beauty and order, he required 
some one to inspect the details, some one who 
was gifted with the power of patient inves- 
tigation, some one whose love of justice and 
calm tone of mind would form a sort of coun- 
ter-balance to his ardour, some one equally de- 
voted to the cause, but at the same time modest 
enough to play a secondary part, and leave him 
in possession of the brilliant fame he coveted. 
These requisites were all centred in Daubenton, 
the companion of his youth. Both morally and 
physically there was the strongest contrast be- 
tween the two friends, and each was possessed 
of those qualities which were necessary to mo- 
derate and improve the other. Buffon, com- 
manding every thing, eager for immediate results, 
and imperious by nature, was desirous of divin- 
ing the truth, not of reaching it by patient in- 
vestigation. His imagination at every instant 


placed itself between him and nature, and _ his 


BARON CUVIER. | fies 


eloquence seemed to wrestle with his reason 
before he employed it in captivating others. 
Daubenton, delicate in constitution, moderate 
by nature as well as reason, pursued his re- 
searches with the most scrupulous circumspec- 
tion; he only believed and affirmed that which 
he had seen and touched;. and far, very far, 
from wishing to persuade by other means than 
facts, he carefully avoided, both in his writings 
and discourse, every figure of speech, and every 
fascinating expression. Unalterable in patience, 
he was never annoyed at delay; he recom- 
menced the same labour over and over again, 
until he had succeeded to his satisfaction ; and. 
the method of his proceedings, while it seemed 
to call into use every mental resource, seemed to 
impose silence on his imagination. When Bufton 
first attached him to the Jardin des Plantes, he 
thought he had found a laborious aid, who would 
smooth the ruggedness of his path; but he found 
much more, for Daubenton was a faithful guide, 
who pointed out to him the hidden dangers and 
precipices of that path. Many times did the sly 
smile of Daubenton, when he conceived a doubt, 
induce Buffon to reconsider his ideas. Many 
times did one of those words, which this friend 
knew so well where to place, stop him in his 


174 MEMOIRS OF 


precipitous career; and the wisdom and prudent 
reserve of the one, uniting themselves to the 
force and rapidity of the other, gave to the 
«¢ Histoire des Quadrupédes,”’ the only work 
common to both, that perfection which makes it 
the most interesting part of the great Natural 
History of Buffon. It is more exempt from 
errors than the rest, and will long remain a 
classical book among naturalists. Daubenton 
was appointed ‘ Demonstrateur du Cabinet 
d’Histoire Naturelle,’ and his salary was gra- 
dually augmented from five hundred francs to 
four thousand; he was lodged at Bufton’s, and 
nothing was neglected which could ensure him 
that ease of circumstances which is necessary to 
every man of letters, every savant who would be 
wholly deveted to science. Daubenton, on his 
side, amply repaid these kindnesses by unremit- 
ting obedience to the views of his benefactor, 
and, at the same time, erected a monument to 
his own glory. Before the time of Daubenton, 
the Museum of Natural History was a mere ca- 
binet, and, strictly speaking, only contained the 
shells collected by ‘Tournefort for the amuse- 
ment of Louis XV., when young. In a very 
few years, the whole face was changed. Mine- 
rals, fruits, woods, and shells were brought 


BARON CUVIER. 175 


from every quarter, and exposed in the most 
beautiful order; means were taken for discover- 
ing the best modes of preserving different parts 
of organised beings ; and the inanimate remains 
of birds and quadrupeds re-assumed the appear- 
ance of life, presenting the slightest details of 
character to the attentive observer, while they 
astonished the curious by the variety of their 
forms and the brilliancy of their colours. Dau- 
benton conceived a vast plan, and, supported by 
Buffon, profited by the means his credit afforded. 
No production of nature was excluded from this 
temple, and a number of anatomical preparations 
were collected, which, though less agreeable to 
the eye, were not less useful to the person who 
did not limit his researches to the exterior of 
created beings; who endeavoured to make a 
philosophical science of natural history, and to 
force it to explain its own phenomena. ‘The 
study and arrangement of these objects became 
a real passion for Daubenton; he shut himself 
up for whole days in the Museum; he arranged 
the objects in a thousand different ways; he 
scrupulously examined all their parts; and he 
tried every possible arrangement until he found 
that which neither offended the eye nor natural 
affinities. Thus it is principally to Daubenton 


176 MEMOIRS OF 


that France owes the magnificent museum of 
the Jardin des Plantes, where we must be struck 
with the unwearied patience of the man who 
amassed all these treasures, named them, classed 
them, displayed their affinities, described their 
parts, and explained their properties.* A 
monument equally glorious to the memory of 
Daubenton is the complete description of this 
museum, though circumstances prevented him 
from carrying it farther than the quadrupeds. 
Reaumur, who had till then swayed the sceptre 
of natural history, and whose “* Memoirs on In- 
sects”? are clear, elegant, and highly interesting, 
jealous of the increasing fame of the two great 
naturalists, not only attacked Bufton but his 
friend, whom he considered as the solid supporter 
of his brilliant rival. Quarrels even took place 


* It is impossible to read these pages without being im- 
pressed with the application of several of the passages to the 
author himself, who appears, however, to be perfectly uncon- 
scious of the resemblance. At the time he wrote this con- 
cerning Daubenton, he was walking with rapid strides in his 
steps, and how he surpassed him is best told by the state of 
the whole of the above establishment at the time of M. Cu- 
vier’s death. I understand that considerable difficulty has 
been felt more than once in writing the éloge of M. Cuvier. 
A selection from his own concerning others might be made 
with the strictest justice, and the utmost aptitude; and the 
candid praise he delighted to bestow on his colleagues would 
thus in every respect be his best eulogium. 


BARON CUVIER. 177 


in the Academy, and M. de Buffon was obliged 
to tax the good offices of Madame de Pompadour, 
in order to preserve Daubenton in the rank 
which was due to his labours. At length the 
insinuations of their enemies seemed to take 
effect, and even Buffon began to think, that it 
would be more advantageous for himself to pub- 
lish his ‘ Histoire Naturelle,’ in thirteen vo- 
lumes duodecimo, taking away not only the 
anatomical parts but the external descriptions ; 
and he also determined to appear alone before 
the public when treating of birds and minerals. 
To act thus was not only to wound Daubenton’s 
feelings, but to injure him in a pecuniary sense. 
He might, with reason, have pleaded that it was 
an enterprise common to both; but had he as- 
serted his right, he must have quarrelled with 
the director of the Jardin; he must have quitted 
the scenes he had, as it were, created, and 
which were inseparable from his existence. He 
therefore passed over the loss and the affront, 
and continued his labours, in a measure consoled 
by the regret expressed by all naturalists, when 
they saw the History of Birds appear without his 
exact descriptions. It is worthy of mention, 
that to such a degree did he carry his spirit of 
forgiveness, that he afterwards contributed some 
N 


178 MEMOIRS OF 


parts to the ‘ Histoire Naturelle,” although his 
name was never again attached to the work. 
His intimacy with his friend was also renewed, 
and continued unbroken till the death of Buffon. 

The efforts of Daubenton were far from being 
confined to the above-mentioned pursuits, and 
one of the other objects of his endeavours was 
an attempt to improve the wool of France, by 
which means he obtained a popularity which 
was very useful to him before the Assembly of 
the Sans Culottes. A certificate of civism was 
necessary for his personal safety at that stormy 
period, to obtain which, his titles of Professor 
and Academician were of little avail; he was at 
length presented under the title of Shepherd, 
and in this character he protected the savant. 
The curious document of this transaction is still 
in existence. 

In 1773, M. Daubenton obtained permission 
for one of the professorships of the Collége de 
France to be changed into a chair of Natural 
History, and also that lectures should be given 
at the Museum. It was an affecting sight to 
behold this old man encircled by his disciples, 
who received his words with a religious atten- 
tion, a veneration which converted them into so 
many oracles ; to hear his weak and trembling 


BARON CUVIER. 179 


voice gradually assume its wonted force and 
energy, when he tried to inculcate some of 
those great principles to which his medita- 
tions had given birth, or to develope some use- 
ful and important truth. He forgot his years 
and his weakness when he could be useful to 
young people, or when he performed his duties. 
When made a senator, one of his colleagues 
offered to help him, by giving lectures for him. 
‘«¢ My friend,” he answered, “ I cannot be better 
replaced than by you, and when age forces me 
to resign my duties, be sure that I shall burthen 


’ 


you with them;” he was then eighty-three. 
When thus appointed, he tried to fill his new 
station as he had done all others; but in order 
to do this he was obliged to change his manner 
of living, the regularity of which had, perhaps, 
contributed to its long continuance. ‘The season 
was very severe; and the first time he assisted 
at the meetings of the body to which he was just 
elected, he was struck with apoplexy, and fell 
senseless into the arms of his colleagues. The 
promptest aid could only restore him to life for a 
few minutes, during which he evinced that de- 
sire calmly to watch the operations of nature 
which had hitherto marked his character. He 
touched the different parts of his body which 
N 2 


180 MEMOIRS OF 


were affected, pointed out the progress of the 
paralysis to his attendants, and expired at the 
age of eighty-four, without suffering ; so that it 
may be said of him, that he attained, if not the 
most brilliant, the most perfect happiness for 
which man is permitted to hope. 

Although confining myself to the principal 
features of the above éloge, I have dwelt on it 
much longer than will be advisable for the 
others. ‘Iwo reasons have induced this; and 
the first is, the circumstance of its being one of 
the earliest of M.Cuvier’s productions which 
was read in presence of the Emperor, on whom 
it made a great impression. ‘The natural style 
in which it was written, the natural tone in 
which it was read, amid the reigning affectation, 
produced the happiest effect ; and it was of this 
that M. D 


observed, ‘* At last we have a secretary who 


, celebrated for his apt remarks, 


knows how to read and write.” The second 
reason is, that it may be offered as a proof of 
the innate excellence of M. Cuvier’s judgment ; 
it is not the work of a man whose reason was ma- 
tured by long years of study, whose feelings 
have been rendered impartial by age ;_ but it was 
written when the fire of youth is generally apt 
to be dazzled by some favourite opinion, is de- 


BARON CUVIER. 181 


sirous of pointing out its own powers of dis- 
crimination by dwelling on the imperfections of 
others, and when (fame being then dearest) it is 
but-too much inclined to steal into its composi- 
tions somewhat of self, some allusion to its own 
labours and feelings. None of this is perceptible 
in the éloge of Daubenton, any more than in the 
rest of M. Cuvier’s biographical notices: there 
is the desire to do honour to his predecessors ; 
there we have laid before us the influence that 
past labours are likely to shed over the future ; 
there is the strict love of justice, pointing out 
errors to serve as beacons for those who follow 
the same career; there is the gentle and unwil- 
ling exposure of faults, that desire to admit every 
circumstance which could palliate the defect ; 
there is the benevolent heart that is so evidently 
gratified when opportunity is given for com- 
mendation; and in each, and in all together, 
we trace the just celebrity which France has at- 
tained from her biographical writers. 

Although a shorter notice will suffice for the 
other éloges, it will be necessary to mention 
them all, in order to show the variety of the 
subject, and occasionally to introduce an original 
passage, not as a better specimen of style than 
could be found elsewhere, but as combining 

N 3 


182 MEMOIRS OF 


beauty with general interest. M. Lemonnier, 
the subject of the second, was head physician 
to Louis XVI., and a botanist; he spent the 
greater part of his life in trying to introduce 
useful plants and trees into I*rance ; he solaced 
the poor, and received no reward from them ; 
he courageously visited his unfortunate master 
when in prison, and, at eighty-two years of age, 
died at the herb shop which he had established 
in order to obtain a livelihood, but where he had 
been watched over by his nieces with the most 
devoted attachment, and visited by his friends, 
who thought his old age rendered doubly ho- 
nourable by this independent mode of existence. 

M. l’Héritier was also a botanist, but of an- 
other description, being a strict follower of the 
system and nomenclature of Linneus. <A cu- 
rious anecdote, related in this éloge, forcibly 
developes the character of the man, and at the 
same time shows the relation he had with Eng- 
land. Always seeking after fresh acquisitions in 
his favourite science, and delighting in a know- 
ledge of foreign plants, he heard that Dombey 
had returned from Peru and Chili with an im- 
mense collection, for the publication of which 
he had Jong sought the necessary funds. L’Hé- 
ritier obtained the herbarium from Dombey, 


BARON CUVIER. 183 


allowed him an annual pension, and from that 
moment no bounds were set to his zeal ; painters 
and engravers were employed, and the work was 
far advanced, when he received intelligence, that 
the Spaniards who had accompanied Dombey 
demanded of the French government that his 
botany should not be published before theirs, 
and, consequently, that the herbarium should be 
restored to Dombey. ‘The order for this restor- 
ation was expected the next day, when L’ Héri- 
tier, consulting only his friend, M. Broussonet, 
sent for twenty or thirty packers, and the night 
was passed in making cases. L’Héritier, his 
wife, and MM. Broussonet and Redoute, packed 
the herbarium: early the next morning the 
former posted off to Calais with his treasure, nor 
rested till he was safe on the English soil. He 
passed fifteen months there in the most per- 
fect retirement, and was delighted with the kind- 
ness he received. The library and collections 
of Sir Joseph Banks, the herbarium of Linneeus, 
then in the possession of Sir J. E, Smith, besides 
the acquisitions of other botanists, were all open 
to him, and he there finished his manuscript. 
The plates were most of them completed when 
he returned to France; but political circum- 
N 4 


184 MEMOIRS OF 


stances, and the duties he was called on to per- 
form as a citizen, prevented the appearance of 
this great work. The same zeal and activity, 
united to a most conscientious fulfilment of the 
labours allotted to him, distinguished him as a 
magistrate; but neither public nor private vir- 
tues could save him from the hand of the as- 
sassin. Returning home late one evening from 
the Institute, he received several stabs from 
a sword, and was found dead, the next morn- 
ing, a few paces from his own door. 

M. Gilbert was chiefly celebrated as an agri- 
culturist ; and he it was who was sent to Spain 
by the government of France, to procure those 
beautiful breeds of sheep from that country 
which had caused such improvements in the 
English wool. ‘This excellent man’s character 
may be comprehended, when it is known that a 
friend of his being suspected, and consequently 
imprisoned, during the revolution of 1793, he 
every month carried to the wife of the sufferer 
the half of his own income, leading her to sup- 
pose that the money came from her husband, in 
order to prevent her from being aware of the 
destitute state into which she was plunged, or 
the danger incurred by one so dear. Full of 
hope, M. Gilbert started on his mission to Spain 


BARON CUVIER. 185 


with the most enthusiastic pleasure, little fore- 
seeing the obstacles and difficulties he should 
encounter. Badly supported by his govern- 
ment, at times wholly neglected, he for two 
years was unable even to make the proper pur- 
chases, and at length was obliged to pledge his 
own property in order to extricate himself from 
the embarrassments caused by the conduct of 
those in whose promises he had confided. He 
had flattered himself that all would have been 
completed in three months, but after two years 
of painful travelling, incredible fatigue, oppo- 
sition, and even humiliation of every kind, the 
flock he had assembled was scarcely, by one 
third, equal to what it ought to have been. His 
bodily strength at last yielded to all these suf- 
ferings, and he was carried off by a malignant 
fever, after an illness of nine days. 

Darcet, the confidential friend of Montes. 
quieu, his assistant in collecting and arranging 
the immense materials for the ‘ Esprit des 
> and the preceptor of the young Montes- 
quieu, never lost sight of his chemical researches 
amid these duties, and he discovered and caused 
the execution of wonderful improvements in the 
porcelain of France. 

The history of Dr. Priestley is too well known 


Loix,? 


186 MEMOIRS OF 


to need much detail here; but as it is one of the 
most beautiful pieces of biography which has 
emanated from the pen of M. Cuvier, I shall 
cite a passage, in his own words, concerning the 
labours of this great chemist and natural phi- 
losopher. ‘ Priestley, comblé de gloire, s’éton- 
nait modestement de son bonheur, et de cette 
multitude de beaux faits que la nature semblait 
n’avoir voulu revéler qu’a lui seul. Il oubliait 
que ses faveurs n’étaient pas gratuites, et que si 
elle s’était si bien expliquée, c’est qu’il avait su 
l’'y contraindre par une persévérance infatigable 
a Pinterroger, et par mille moyens ingénieux de 
lui arracher des réponses. 

«Les autres cachent soigneusement ce qu’ils 
doivent au hasard; Priestley semble vouloir lui 
tout accorder: il remarque, avec une candeur 
unique, combien de fois il en fut servi sans s’en 
apercevoir, combien de fois il posséda des sub- 
stances nouvelles sans les distinguer; et jamais 
il ne dissimule les vues erronées qui le dirigérent 
quelquefois, et dont il ne fut désabusé que par 
Vexpérience. Ces aveux firent ’honneur a sa mo- 
destie sans désarmer la jalousie. Ceux a qui 
leurs vues et leurs méthodes n’avaient jamais rien 
fait découvrir, ’appelaient un simple faiseur des 
expériences, sans méthode et sans vues: ‘il n’est 


BARON CUVIER. 18% 


pas étonnant,’ ajoutaient-ils, ‘que, dans tant d’es- 
sais et de combinaisons, il s’en trouve quelques- 
uns d’heureux.’ Mais les véritables physiciens 
ne furent point dupes de ces critiques inté- 
ressees.” * 

There is yet another passage which, while it 
so ably pleads the cause of Priestley, places 
M. Cuvier’s candour in so conspicuous a light, 


* Priestley, loaded with glory, was modest enough to be 
astonished at his good fortune, and at the multitude of beau- 
tiful facts which nature seemed to have revealed to him alone. 
He forgot that her favours were not gratuitous, and if she 
had so well explained herself, it was because he had known 
how to oblige her to do so by his indefatigable perseverance 
in questioning her, and by the thousand ingenious means he 
had taken to snatch her answers from her. 

Others carefully hide that which they owe to chance; 
Priestley seemed to wish to ascribe all his merit to fortuitous 
circumstances, remarking, with unexampled candour, how 
many times he had profited by them without knowing it, how 
many times he was in possession of new substances without 
having perceived them; and he never dissimulated the erro- 
neous views which sometimes directed his efforts, and from 
which he was only undeceived by experience. These confes- 
sions did honour to his modesty, without disarming jealousy. 
Those to whom their own ways and methods had never dis- 
covered any thing, called hima simple worker of experiments, 
without method and without an object; “it is not astonish- 
” they added, “ that among so many trials and combin- 
ations, he should find some that were fortunate.” But real 
natural philosophers were not duped by these selfish criti< 
cisms, 


ing, 


188 MEMOIRS OF 


that I shall make no apology for introducing it, 
though it will not be necessary to give it in 
French. ‘ I am now, Messieurs, arrived at the 
most painful part of my task. You have just 
seen Priestley successfully progressing in the 
study of human science, to which he neverthe- 
less consecrated but a few of his leisure mo- 
ments. I must now present him to you in 
another light, wrestling against the nature of 
those things which are hidden from our reason 
by an impenetrable veil, trying to submit the 
world to his conjectures, consuming almost all 
his life in these vain efforts, and at length plung- 
ing himself into an abyss of misery. Here, like 
himself, I have need of all your indulgence ; 
perhaps the details into which I am about to 
enter will, to some, appear foreign to the place 
in which I speak, but it is here, I think, that 
the terrible example they give ought to be heard 
with the greatest interest. I have already told 
you that Priestley was a minister of religion, and 
I am forced to add, that he professed four dif- 
ferent creeds before he could decide on teaching 
one of them in his public capacity. Brought up 
in all the severity of the presbyterian faith, 
which we call Calvinistic, and in all the bitter- 


BARON CUVIER. 189 


ness of predestination, such as Gomar taught it, 
he scarcely began to reflect, before he turned to 
the milder doctrine of Arminius. But, as he 
advanced, he always seemed to find too much to 
believe; he therefore adopted the tenets of the 
Arrians, who, after having invaded Christianity 
from the time of the successors of Constantine, 
have now no other asylum than in England, but 
whose faith is decorated by the names of Mil- 
ton, Clarke, and Locke, and even, as report 
says, that of Newton, and whose reputations, in 
some measure, repair the loss of former power. 
«* Arrianism, while it declares Christ to be a 
creature, believes him, nevertheless, to be a 
being of a superior nature, produced before the 
world, and the organ of the Creator in the pro- 
duction of other beings. ‘This is the doctrine 
clothed in the magnificent poetry of the Paradise 
Lest. After having long professed this, Priestley 
abandoned it, in order to become an Unitarian, 
or that which we call Socinian. ‘There are few, 
perhaps, among those who now hear me, who 
have ever informed themselves in what these 
two sects differ. It is, that the Secinians deny 
the pre-existence of Christ, and only look upon 
him as a man, though they revere in him the 


190 MEMOIRS OF 


Saviour of the world; and they acknowledge 
that the Divinity was united to him, in order to 
effect this great work. ‘This subtle shade be- 
tween two heresies, for thirty years occupied 
that head which was required for the most im- 
portant questions of science, and, without com- 
parison, caused Priestley to write more volumes 
than he ever produced on the different species 
or air’... .. *His last moments: were full of 
those feelings of piety which had animated his 
whole life, the improper control of which had 
been the foundation of all his errors. He caused 
the Gospel to be read to him, and thanked God 
for having allowed him to lead an useful life, 
and granted him a peaceful death. Among the 
list of his principal blessings, he ranked that of 
having personally known almost all his contem- 
poraries. ‘Iam going to sleep, as you do,’ 
said he to his grandchildren, who were brought 
to him, ‘ but we shall wake again together, and, I 
hope, to eternal happiness;’ thus evincing in 
what belief he died. ‘These were his last words ; 
such was the end of that man, whom his ene- 
mies accused of wishing to overthrow all mo- 
rality and religion, and, nevertheless, whose 
greatest error was to mistake his vocation, and 


BARON CUVIER. 191 


to attach too much importance to his individual 
sentiments, in matters where the most important 
of all feelings ought to be the love of peace.” 

The subject of the succeeding éloge, M. Cels, 
was a practical botanist and scientific agricul- 
turist, to whom Paris owes the celebrated garden 
which bears his name: from him emanated some 
excellent laws on agricultural interests. 

No one but a profound naturalist could have 
appreciated the merits of M. Adanson; and no 
one but an impartial and penetrating biographer 
could have separated his great and rare perfec- 
tions, from that peculiarity and exaggeration of 
ideas which led him into error. This traveller 
visited Senegal, because it is the most difficult of 
access, the most unhealthy, and, in all respects, 
the most dangerous of all the French colonies, 
and, consequently, was the least known to na- 
turalists ; the continent of Africa was therefore 
the scene of his discoveries,.and to him we owe 
our perfect knowledge of that giant of the vege- 
table world, the Badbab, or, in proper terms, the 
Adansonia digitata. 

M. Broussonet, Professor of Botany to the 
School of Medicine at Montpelier, was called to 
the Institute by the section of zoology and 


192 MEMOIRS OF 


anatomy, and after publishing several works on 
zoology, and passing a life of dangers and un- 
heard-of escapes, died of a coup de soleil. 

M. Lassus was a surgeon, and though ge- 
nerally skilful in his profession, was so unfortu- 
nate as to bleed a royal patient twice without suc- 
cess. The outcry was universal. ‘ Une princesse 
piquée deux fois, et qui n’a pas saigné—quel ac- 
cident effroyable !” said the courtiers ; the physi- 
cians shook their heads with a mysterious look ; 
but the princess, being more generous, procured 
M. Lassus a situation in place of that from which 
she had been obliged to dismiss him in her 


household, and by so doing, secured a merito- 


23 
rious and devoted servant, both to herself and 
the public. With her and her sister he travelled 
over Italy, at the time of the great revolution ; 
and by producing his portfolics as proofs that he 
had enriched his country with useful information, 
evaded the law against emigrants, which would 
have been enforced against him on his return, 
and was appointed to the medical school at 
Paris. 

M. Ventenat was a priest and botanist, and, 
protected by Josephine, described the treasures 
of her garden at Mal Maison. 


BARON CUVIER. 193 


The name of De Saussure will ever be dear 
to geologists; and with his éloge, and that of his 
uncle, M. Bonnet, the naturalist of Geneva, the 
first volume closes. In this combined éloge is 
a passage in which M. Cuvier’s talents for de- 
scription show themselves; and as it is almost 
an isolated instance in his published writings, I 
here quote it : — “* Comme le voyageur est ravi 
Vadmiration, lorsque, dans un beau jour d’été, 
apres avoir péniblement traversé les sommets du 
Jura, il arrive a cette gorge, ou se deploie su- 
bitement devant lui ’immense bassin de Geneve, 
quwil voit @un coup d’oeil ce beau lac dont les 
eaux réfléechissent le bleu du ciel, mais plus pur 
et plus profond; cette vaste campagne, si bien 
cultivée, peuplee d’habitations si riantes ; ces cd- 
teaux qui s’élévent par degres et que revét une 
si riche végétation, ces montagnes couvertes de 
foréts toujours vertes; la créte sourcilleuse des 
Hautes Alpes, ceignant ce superbe amphithéatre, 
et le Mont Blanc, ce géant des montagnes Eu- 
ropéennes, le couronnant de cette immense 
groupe de neiges, ou la disposition des masses et 
opposition des lumitres et des ombres, pro- 
duisent un effet qu’aucune expression ne peut 
faire concevoir a celui qui ne I’a pas vu. 

) 


194 | MEMOIRS OF 


« Et ce beau pays, si propre a frapper |’ima- 
gination, 4 nourrir le talent du poéte ou de Var- 
tiste, ’est, peut-étre, encore davantage a reveiller 
la curiosité du philosophe, a exciter les re- 
cherches du physicien. C’est vraiment la que la 
nature semble vouloir se montrer par un plus 
grand nombre de faces. 

«¢ Les plantes les plus rares, depuis celles des 
pays tempéreés jusqu’ a celles de la Zone Glaciale, 
n’y cotitent que quelques pas au botaniste; le 
zoologiste peut y poursuivre des insectes aussi 
variés que la végétation qui les nourrit; le lac 
y forme pour le physicien une sorte de mer, par 
sa profondeur, par son étendue et méme par la 
violence de ses mouvemens ; le géologiste, qui 
ne voit ailleurs que l’écorce extérieure du globe, 
en trouve la les masses centrales, relevées et per- 
cant de toute part leurs enveloppes, pour se 
montrer a ses yeux; en fin, le météorologiste y 
peut a chaque instant observer la formation des 
nuages, pénétrer dans leur intérieur, ou s’éléver 
au-dessus deux.” * 


* How delighted is the traveller when, in a beautiful 
summer's day, after having with difficulty traversed the sum- 
mits of the Jura, he arrives in this ravine, where the immense 
basin of Geneva suddenly opens before him, when at one 
glance he sees this beautiful lake, the waters of which reflect 


BARON CUVIER. 195 


The second volume opens with the éloge of 
Fourcroy, — the brilliant, the eloquent, the ca- 
lumniated Fourcroy. The struggles of his youth, 
and his vigorous resistance of injustice and po- 
verty, the account of his discoveries,— all form 
one of the most powerful pieces of biography 


the blue of heaven more deeply and more purely ; this vast 
country, so well cultivated, and peopled by smiling habitations ; 
the hills, which rise by degrees, clothed with the richest 
vegetation ; the mountains, covered with evergreen forests; 
the frowning crests of the High Alps, above this superb amphi- 
theatre ; and Mont Blanc, the giant of European mountains, 
crowning the immense group of snows, where the disposal of 
the masses, and the contrasts of light and shade, produce an 
effect which no expression can convey to those who have not 
seen it. 

And this beautiful country, so calculated to strike the ima- 
gination, to feed the talent of the poet or the artist, is per- 
haps still more so to awaken the curiosity of the philosopher, 
and to excite the researches of the follower of natural philo- 
sophy. It is truly there that nature seems to delight in 
showing herself under a number of different aspects. 

The rarest plants, from those of temperate countries to 
those of the Frozen Zone, only cost the botanist a few steps. 
The zoologist may there pursue insects as varied as the vege- 
tation which nourishes them. The lake there forms, from 
its depth and extent, and even its violent movements, a sort 
of sea for the natural philosopher; the geologist, who, else- 
where, sees but the external rind of the globe, there finds 
central masses, thrown up, and in every part piercing their 
envelopes, and showing themselves to his eyes; lastly, the 
meteorologist can there observe the clouds at every instant, 
penetrate within them, or raise himself above them. 


o 2 


196 MEMOIRS OF 


ever read. ‘The following description of his 
lectures recalls those of the author, and, in many 
instances, 1s equally applicable to both : —* For 
five and twenty years the amphitheatre of the Jar- 
din des Plantes was the centre of M. Fourcroy’s 
glory. The great scientific establishments of 
this capital, where celebrated masters expose to 
a numerous public, capable of passing judgment 
on them, the most profound doctrines of modern 
times, recall to our memory that which was 
noblest in antiquity. We fancy we again find 
in these assemblies a whole people animated by 
the voice of a single orator; and again see those 
schools, where chosen disciples came to pene- 
trate the oracles of a sage. The lectures of 
M. Fourcroy corresponded to this twofold pic- 
ture: Plato and Demosthenes seemed to be 
united in him ; and it is almost necessary to be 
one or the other, to give an idea of them. Con- 
nection of method, abundance of elocution, ele- 
vation, precision, elegance of terms, as if they 
had been selected long beforehand; rapidity, 
brilliancy, novelty, as if suddenly inspired; a 
flexible, sonorous, and silvery voice, yielding to 
every motion, penetrating into the corners of the 
largest audience-room ; — nature had bestowed 
every thing on him. Sometimes his discourse 


BARON CUVIER. 197 


flowed smoothly and majestically ; the grandeur 
of his metaphors, and the pomp of his style, were 
all imposing; then, varying his accents, he 
passed insensibly to the most ingenuous fami- 
liarity, and fixed attention by sallies of the most 
fascinating gaiety. Hundreds of auditors, of all 
classes, all nations, were to be seen, passing 
whole hours, closely pressed against each other, 
almost fearing to breathe, their eyes fixed on 
his, suspended to his mouth, as the poet says 
(pendent ab ore loquentis). His look of fire 
darted over the crowd; in the farthest rows he 
distinguished that mind which was difficult to 
convince, and still doubted, or the slow compre- 
hension which did not completely understand 5 
for these he redoubled his arguments and his 
similes, and varied his expressions until he 
found these which would convince; language 
seemed to multiply its riches for him, and he did 
not quit his subject till he saw all his numerous 
audience equally satisfied.” 

It is scarcely possible to mention Fourcroy, 
without recollecting the odious suspicion attached 
tohis name*; I therefore give M. Cuvier’s observ- 


* It was reported that he might have saved the life of 
M. Lavoisier during the reign of terror, as indeed he had saved 
many by his influence ; but, at the moment of M. Lavoisjer’s 


OS 


198 MEMOIRS OF 


ations, taken from the same éloge : — “ Perhaps 
I may be blamed for recalling these sad_recol- 
lections; but where a celebrated man has been 
so unfortunate as to be accused, as M. Fourcroy 
was, — where this accusation occasioned the tor- 
ment of his life, —the historian would in vain 
strive to bury it in oblivion, by being himself 
silent. We ought now to say, that if, in the 
strict researches we have made, we had found 
the slightest proof of so horrible an atrocity, no 
human power could have forced us to sully our 
lips by his éloge, to make the roofs of this temple 
resound with our praises,— this temple, which 
ought to be no less the asylum of honour than 
of genius.” 

To Dessesserts, the physician, and subject of 
the next ¢loge, the French owe the banishment 
of those horrible machines of whalebone, those 
swathing clothes, those hot-houses, where the 
minds and bodies of infants were imprisoned 
from their birth. By M. Dessesserts were those 
mothers recalled to their duty, who abandoned 


arrest, his own life was threatened, and all power of being 
useful to others was taken from him. Lavoisier fell a victim 
to the revolutionary monsters, and M. Fourcroy was accused 
of taking a part in that which freed him from a powerful 
rival: 


BARON CUVIER. 199 


the nourishment of their offspring to others, 
when capable of affording it themselves; and, 
though unacknowledged, to M. Dessesserts was 
Rousseau indebted for the first pages of his 
Emile. 

The next subject of biographical notice is 
Henry Cavendish, that remarkable Englishman, 
who, notwithstanding his splendid fortune and 
his noble birth, pursued science with the most 
disinterested ardour. How M. Cuvier appreci- 
ated his labours, will be gathered from the fol- 
lowing passage : — *‘ All that science revealed 
to him, seemed to be tinctured with the sublime 
and the marvellous: he weighed the earth, he 
prepared the means of navigating through the 
air, he deprived water of its elementary quality ; 
and these dectrines, so new, and so opposed to 
received opinions, were demonstrated by him in 
a manner still more extraordinary than the dis- 
covery itself. ‘The writings where he lays them 
before others, are so many chefs d’ceuvre of wis- 
dom and method; perfect in their whole, and 
perfect in their details, in which no other hand 
has found any thing to reform, and the splendour 
of which has only increased with time....... 
so that there can be no temerity in predicting, 
that he will reflect back upon his house much 

0 4 


200 MEMOIRS OF 


greater lustre than he has received from it; and 
that these researches, which, perhaps, excited 
the pity and contempt of some of his contempo- 
raries, will make his name resound, at an age to 
which his rank and his ancestry alone would not 
have transmitted it. ‘The history of thirty cen- 
turies clearly teaches us, that great and useful 
truths are the sole durable inheritance which 
man can leave behind him.” 

The next in the list of great names is that of 
Pallas, the enlightened and sagacious traveller 
of the north of Asia, the inhabitant of the 
Crimea, and the learned and indefatigable na- 
turalist. 

The éloges of M. Parmentier and Count Rum- 
ford are combined, and commence with a sort of 
introduction to the useful labours of each; la- 
bours which bore so strongly on the means of 
affording warmth and nourishment to the poorer 
classes. The former, who had learned the value 
of the potate as an article of food in the prisons 
of Germany, overcame the prejudices entertained 
against them in France, where they were said to 
produce leprosy, fevers, and no one knows what 
diseases. His mode of rendering them popular 
and desirable was curious ; for he began by cul- 
tivating them in the open fields, and causing 


BARON CUVIER. 201 


them to be carefully guarded by day only : he 
was but too happy when he was informed, that 
this apparent caution had induced depredation 
by night. He then obtained from the king of 
France the favour of wearing a bunch of potato 
blossoms in the button-hole of his coat, at a 
solemn féte ; and nothing more was required to 
cause some of the great lords of the kingdom to 
order its cultivation on their estates. Not, how- 
ever, till the last years of his life, was he com- 
pletely successful ; and during the great Revo- 
lution he was rejected as a magistrate, because 
he had envented potatoes. 

Benjamin Thomson, Count Rumford, was an 
American by birth, and served as a royalist in 
the war between America and England. After 
the peace he came to the latter country, where 
he was knighted by George III., and recom- 
mended by that sovereign to the protection of 
the Elector of Bavaria, at whose court he rose 
to the highest dignities. It was then that he 
turned his attention to the state of the poor, and, 
in trying to find means for ameliorating their 
condition, he made those beautiful discoveries 
which have benefited all classes. 

The labours and character of the oriental tra- 
veller, Olivier, are then noticed, and the history 


202 MEMOIRS OF 


of this excellent man furnishes another proof of 
the immense influence, that a knowledge of me- 
dicine will produce among uncivilised people. 

M. Tenon, the surgeon, is afterwards pre- 
sented to us. His youth was passed in a series of 
struggles; his maturity was beautiful, and he 
reached the age of ninety-two without intel- 
lectual infirmity. 

The éloge of the famous Werner is in every 
respect interesting, for in it we find a brief’ ré- 
sumé of all that was done by this great man, 
together with the peculiarities which deprived 
the world of the written results of his labours 
and extensive knowledge; he having preferred 
to trust his reputation to the justice of his dis- 
ciples, rather than have recourse to his own pen 
for transmitting it to posterity. 

The life of Desmarets follows ;— Desmarets, 
the antagonist of Werner, the champion of vol- 
canoes; he in whose discoveries originated the 
famous disputes between the Plutonians and 
Neptunians, and which disputes not only placed 
the whole world between fire and water, but 
occasioned more animosity than any question 
which had hitherto agitated the learned world. 

To this second volume are added two éloges 
read before the Philomathic Society of Paris, the 


BARON CUVIER. 203 


discourse of M. Cuvier on his reception at the 
Académie Francaise, and the reply of the di- 
rector of that academy. ‘The first of these two 
éloges is that of M. Riche, whose life resembles 
that of a hero of romance, and whose feelings 
and adventures, perhaps, caused his death at 
the age of thirty-five. The second is that of 
M. Bruguiére, the companion of Olivier, already 
noticed. ‘The discourse of M. Cuvier assumes a 
tone in which the nature of his professional 
studies scarcely ever allowed him to indulge, 
but in which we trace the same perfection as 
elsewhere. It is full of classical and elegant 
allusions; it is the production of a man of 
letters, and shows how admirable is the combin- 
ation when science and literature occupy the 
same mind. In the reply of the Count de Séze 
will be found a very admirable résumé of M. 
Cuvier’s labours up to that period. 

The third volume begins with the éloge of 
M. de Beauvois, the African traveller, to whom 
the world owes the Flora of Owaree and Benin; 
and who, after wrestling with the storms both of 
this continent and those of America, died in 
consequence of the sudden changes to which an 
European climate is so frequently liable. In 


204 MEMOIRS OF 


this biography are some remarkable passages 
concerning slavery. 

M. Cuvier’s brotherly feeling, —his gratitude, if 
I may so express myself, — towards all promoters 
of science, is nowhere more strongly manifested 
than in his eulogium on Sir Joseph Banks, the 
distinguished and munificent patron of scientific 
labourers. The travels and adventures of Sir 
Joseph are here related with vivacity ; and the 
famous dispute about points and buttons to elec- 
trical conductors, which placed him at the head 
of the Royal Society, and which, in other hands, 
might have afforded much scope for ridicule, is 
touched on with a delicacy peculiar to M. Cu- 
vier’s disposition. Nor is this éloge less remark- 
able for the honourable testimony given to a 
nation which has been but too often regarded 
with jealousy, and which has but too cften met 
these sentiments with a reciprocal feeling. ‘* The 
savans of England,’’ says the Baron Cuvier, 
«have taken an equally glorious part in those 
mental labours which are common to all civilised 
people: they have confronted the eternal frosts 
of either pole; they have not left a corner of the 
two oceans unvisited; they have increased the 
catalogue of nature tenfold; heaven has been 
peopled by them with planets, satellites, and un- 


BARON CUVIER. 205 


heard-of phenomena; we may almost say that 
they have counted the stars of the milky way. 
If chemistry has assumed a new aspect, the 
facts they have furnished have essentially con- 
tributed to this metamorphosis. Inflammable 
air, pure air, phlogistic air, are due to them; 
they have discovered the decomposition of water, 
and a number of new metals have been produced 
by their analyses. The nature of fixed alkalies 
has only been demonstrated by them; mechan- 
ism, at their voice, has given birth to miracles, 
and placed their country above all others in 
almost every species of manufacture.” 

The mineralogist, M. Duhamel, appeared at a 
time when De Saussure had not travelled, Deluc 
had not written, nor Werner, by the force of his 
extraordinary genius, arranged the mineral uni- 
verse; and, after years of scientific labour, was 
appointed to the Ecole des Mines, established in 
Paris ; and in tracing his influence in this pro- 
fessorship, M. Cuvier thus speaks : —** Our pro- 
ducts in iron are quadrupled; the mines of this 
metal opened, near the Loire, in the region of 
coal, and in the midst of combustible matter, are 
about to yield iron at the same price as in Eng- 
land. Antimony, manganese, which we for- 
merly imported, are now exported in considerable 


206 MEMOIRS OF 


quantities. Chrome, discovered by one of our 
chemists, is also the useful product of one of our 
mines. Zinc and tin have already been extracted 
from the mines on the coast of Britany. Alum 
and vitriol, formerly almost unknown in France, 
are collected in abundance. An immense mass 
of rock salt has just been discovered in Lorraine ; 
and ail promises that these new creations will 
not stop here. Doubtless, it is not to a single 
man, nor to the appointment of a single profes- 
sorship, that all this may be attributed ; but it is 
not the less true, that this one man, this one pro- 
fessorship, has been the primary cause of these 
advantages.” 3 

The name of M. Haiiy, the geologist, the 
mineralogist, the founder of crystallography, 
forms a sort of oracle in the learned world, and 
I have a peculiar pleasure in dwelling on this 
éloge, because it is one of the most admirable of 
all, and does honour to M. Cuvier’s heart, show- 
ing how entirely he was independent of selfish 
feelings, how truly just he could be, even to 
those who had opposed him with hostile senti- 
ments. ‘The extraordinary man here spoken of 
commenced the world as a chorister, and studied 
natural philosophy and botany as amusements. 
These tastes led him frequently to the Jardin des 


BARON CUVIER. 207 


Plantes, in Paris; and chance took him one day, 
with the crowd, into the amphitheatre, to hear 
M. Daubenton lecture on mineralogy. Minera- 
logy henceforth became interesting to him; and 
chance equally befriended him in this new direc- 
tion of his pursuits. Happening to examine a 
mineral at the house of a friend, he accidentally 
let fall a beautiful group of calcareous spar ; 
the fracture of one of the prismatic crystals 
opened a new world of ideas to him, and he be- 
came the M. Haiiy, the legislator of mineralogy, 
the founder of a system which has been adopted 
all over the world. Imprisoned during the fury 
of the Revolution, he tranquilly pursued his stu- 
dies in his cell, and was with difficulty torn 
from it by his friend, M. Geoffroy St. Hilaire, 
on the fatal 2d of September. In 1802, he was 
appointed professor to the Museum of Natural 
History. Pious, benevolent, tolerant, and de- 
voted to his studies, no worldly considerations 
ever intercepted his religious exercises nor his 
scientific labours ; and his mode of living was as 
simple as the station from which he sprung: he 
walked in the same places every day, took the 
same exercise, wore the same fashion of clothing, 
and his manners and language were equally 
remarkable for their primitive simplicity. <A fall 


208 MEMOIRS OF 


in his own room occasioned a fracture from which 
he never recovered; but, during the long hours 
of pain which preceded his death, he divided his 
time between prayer, a careful edition of his 
works, and the future fate of his pupils. 

Count Berthollet was a chemist of the most 
elevated rank; and to him is due the discovery 
of the present method of bleaching linen, and 
many improvements in dyeing. 

M. Richard came into the world at Auteuil, 
a garden belonging to Louis XV., of which he 
afterwards became the chief; and, born in the 
midst of plants, he knew their names before he 
could read, and could draw them before he 
could write correctly. To the study of botany 
was his whole life devoted ; for this he perfected 
himself in drawing, and became acquainted with 
the Greek and Latin languages; for this he re- 
fused advantageous offers in the church; and 
for this he was turned out from the paternal 
dwelling, with the scantiest pittance. Drawing 
by night, and studying botany by day, he by 
degrees accumulated money, but this money was 
for his favourite science. He was sent to the 
French colonies in America, to propagate In- 
dian productions, and discover which of theirs 
could in turn be made useful. Laden with 


BARON CUVIER. 209 


treasures he returned to France, but all there 
was changed; M. de Buffon was dead; the 
government unskilful and in confusion; no one 
recollected the promises made to him, and 
people whose heads were hourly in danger, 
cared little for the cloves of Cayenne. En- 
feebled in health, exhausted in fortune, and un- 
able to look forward to better times, M. Rich- 
ard had to recommence the same sort of life 
which he had led at fourteen years of age. As 
aman of science he remained as great as ever ; 
his dissertations were astonishing proofs of the 
extent and sagacity of his views; but his temper, 
soured by so many misfortunes, never recovered 
its tone, and he died, at the age of sixty-seven, 
after much bodily and mental suffering. 

Few who have been in the habit of visiting 
the Jardin des Plantes within the last forty 
years will be ignorant of the name, at least, of 
M. Thouin. He there succeeded his father as 
head gardener, and uniting science and the 
most enlightened views to practical knowledge, 
and placing his affections on the improvement 
of his garden, he became a centre of corre- 
spondence for all parts of the world. His fine 
countenance, noble and engaging deportment, 
and his interesting conversation, caused him to 

P 


210 MEMOIRS OF 


be sought by the most elevated, as well as the 
most humble, in the ranks of life. He died in 
1824. 

The Count de Lacépéde is presented to us in 
three different points of view; first, as a prac- 
tical and theoretical musician of considerable 
skill; secondly, as a man of science; and, thirdly, 
as a statesman; and crowning the whole by 
mingling the most invariable politeness, the 
most amiable deportment and feeling, and high- 
est moral excellence, with all his duties. He 
died, at the age of sixty-nine, of the smallpox. 

The éloges of MM. Hallé, Corvisart, and 
Pinel, three great physicians, are united into 
one. The first of these was the active promoter 
of vaccination, was skilful in his treatment of 
chronic disorders, and was equally celebrated for 
his charity. M. Corvisart, who lost several oppor- 
tunities of promotion because he would not wear 
a bag wig, was at length appointed to the direc- 
tion of the Hopital de la Charité, and afterwards 
to a professorship at the Ecole de Médecine. 
His fame spread through Europe, and, before he 
died, he became head physician at court. M. 
Pinel prepared himself for the study of medi- 
cine by a knowledge of mathematics and natural 
history, but, unable to express himself, in con- 


BARON CUVIER. QT] 


sequence of a most invincible timidity, he was 
long neglected. When however, his merits 
once became known, he rose rapidly in fame ; 
he was appointed to the hospital of Bicétre ; 
thence to that of the Salpétriere, and afterwards 
to a chair at the Ecole de Médecine. He was 
particularly famous for his classification of dis- 
eases, and his treatment of madness. 

It would be impossible, in the brief sketch to 
which I am limited, to do justice to the ¢loge of 
M. Fabbroni, who, from the variety of his genius 
and knowledge demanded equal variety from his 
biographer ; and all that can be done is to show a 
portion of the talents which have elicited this 
remark. Like most of those who have attained 
great celebrity, the early years of M. Fabbroni 
were passed in struggle and difficulty. His first 
work was entitled, ‘* Reflections on the Present 
State of Agriculture; or, An Exposition of 
the ‘True Method of cultivating (landed) pro- 
perty.” He became sub-director of the beau- 
tiful museum at Florence, where he founded 
lectures. Driven from this establishment by 
Marie Louise, Queen of Etruria, he yet continued 
to serve his country; and while carrying on 
various administrative duties, published his own 
useful ideas concerning the arts, agriculture, 

Pp 2 


212 MEMOIRS OF 


political economy, and the general questions 
connected with the profoundest theories of sci- 
ence. ‘The wines of Italy were greatly improved 
by his means; and Tuscany, being destitute of 
fuel, the grand Duke applied to M. Fabbroni 
to assist in finding coal; and both Leopold 
and his son continued to protect him, and to 
profit by his administrative and scientific talents. 
When all Italy was alarmed at the conquests of 
the French, M. Fabbroni sought refuge in his 
chemical studies, as applied to the useful arts ; 
and when Tuscany had recognised the French 
republic, he was charged with a mission to 
France, concerning the unity of weights and mea- 
sures. Being in Paris at the time that war was 
declared against Austria and Tuscany, he ob- 
tained permission for a special conservator to be 
sent to Florence to preserve the collections there; 
and in consequence of his care, the only thing 
taken from thence was the Venus de Medicis, 
and which, in fact, had been clandestinely ab- 
stracted before the arrival of the French, and 
given up to them by the King of Naples. ‘The 
whole of M. Fabbroni’s life was a scene of active 
service ; and we find him, at one time, charged 
with delicate political missions; at others, with 
the direction and administration of the mint at 


BARON CUVIER. 913 


Florence ; seeking the causes of pestilence, and 
the means of prevention; making roads, fixing 
conductors for lightning, and aiding the state by 
his counsels. France employed him in the de- 
partments beyond the Alps, as director of bridges 
and highways; and in this capacity he caused 
new roads to be made in every direction, bridges 
to be thrown over fearful torrents, and two mag- 
nificent military causeways, which, raised along 
precipitous crests, supported by arches of pro- 
digious elevation, and occasionally piercing the 
bosom of these rugged mountains, have made an 
agreeable walk of that which was formerly fright- 
ful to the imagination. 

To these two ¢loges succeed two funeral dis- 
courses ; one delivered at the interment of M.Van 
Spaendonck, the professor of botanical draw- 
ings at the Jardin des Plantes, an artist whose 
productions attained the highest perfection ; and 
the other at the grave of the great astronomer, 
M. Delambre. ‘The latter was a personal friend 
of M. Cuvier’s ; and in this discourse, which was 
not of sufficient extent to admit of an enumer- 
ation of his labours, his excellent character as a 
man received its just tribute from the lips of his 
colleague. 

The volume is closed by two of those ad- 

Bid 


214 MEMOIRS OF 


mirable reports, in which M. Cuvier always dis- 
played his genius and acquirements in their full 
strength. In the first, which is on the progress 
of natural history between the maritime peace 
and the year 1824, will be found an account of 
the important travels of that period. ‘The second 
treats of the principal changes which chemical 
theories have undergone, and of the new services 
rendered by this science to society at large, and 
was read at a general meeting of the four acade- 
mies, in 1820. 

The forthcoming volume of these éloges will, 
if nothing unforeseen should occur, be shortly 
published, and will contain those of M. Ramond, 
the Pyrennean traveller; M. Bosc, the successor 
of M. Thouin; Sir Humphrey Davy, M. Vau- 
quelin, and M. Lamark; some funeral orations ; 
M. de Lamartine’s discourse on his reception as 
a member of the Institute, with M. Cuvier’s 
reply ; and a new edition of the Prix de Vertu. 
These have all been read in public; but of 
course, when printed, a freer scope is given to 
detail ; for no one knew better than M. Cuvier 
how to fascinate a numerous audience, by a 
choice of what was generally interesting, or to 
avoid the ennui produced by too long a demand 
on their attention. 


BARON CUVIER. Q15 


It is for ever to be regretted, that the last 
course of lectures delivered by M. Cuvier has 
been comparatively lost to mankind in general. 
The hall at the Collége de France resounded 
with these luminous discourses, taken at the 
moment from mere memoranda, and now only 
existing in the memory of his auditors. He was 
extremely averse to short-hand notes, because he 
thought them very inadequate to the purposes 
of publication; and he had no time, he said, 
either to edite them himself, or correct the edi- 
tions of others. ‘The glimpses (for they can only 
be called such) given in the feuilletons of the 
Temps, and in the pamphlets compiled by M. 
Magdeleine de Saint Agy, were then published 
entirely without his sanction, and the latter even 
without his knowledge; but imperfect as they 
are, they yet assist in giving a general idea of the 
plan that was followed. 

Conscientiously fulfilling some of the most im- 
portant duties of the state, equally devoted to 
those of his different secretaryships and profes- 
sorships, and daily progressing in the most pro- 
foundly scientific works and discoveries, it is no 
wonder that he rarely found time for a course of 
lectures. At length, however, struck with the 
errors which he perceived in the system of unity 

Pia 


216 MEMOIRS OF 


of composition, and fearing the injurious direc- 
tion that such ideas might give to youthful stu- 
dies, he combated them solely for the love of 
science ; and his health fortunately permitting, 
he for this purpose resumed his chair at the 
college, and, taking for his subject the entire 
history of natural sciences, he, in this series, 
seemed to carry learned research, precision, 
clearness, sound and elevated views proceeding 
from the deepest thought and erudition, and 
a pre-eminent power of separating truth from 
error, to the highest degree to which man could 
attain. ‘The charms of his flexible and sonorous 
voice, which could be heard every where in its 
sweetest tones, the benignity and animation of 
his countenance, attracted each sex and various 
ages. In the coldest weather, the audience 
assembled an hour before the time, and some 
were contented to remain on the staircase, pro- 
vided they could catch some of his melodious 
words; and the enthusiasm with which he was 
received, while it endangered his personal con- 
venience, called forth that benevolent smile 
which was calculated rather to encourage than 
repress these marks of admiration. 

‘*’The fundamental principle of these lec- 
tures,’ says M. Laurillard, “ was, that society 


BARON CUVIER. Q17 


having been developed by the discovery of the 
natural properties of bodies, each of these dis- 
coveries has a corresponding degree of  civilis- 
ation; and therefore the history of this civilis- 
ation, and consequently of all humanity, is 
intimately connected with the history of natural 
sciences.” In order to be fully in possession of 
his subject, how immense must have been the 
research of M. Cuvier! and nothing but a 
review of his whole life seems to account for his 
capability. Several have been able to elucidate 
particular periods, to the study of which they 
have devoted themselves; but his researches em- 
braced all historical and philosophical science. 
He consulted all books, in order to go back to 
the origin of discoveries; and the judgment 
necessary for the employment of materials thus 
collected was so much the greater, inasmuch as 
writers frequently state but the germs of their 
ideas, and leave facts almost. as obscure as they 
are in nature. 

The first, or opening lecture, divided the pro- 
gress of science into three epochs ; the religious, 
more especially emanating from the Egyptians and 
Hebrews; the philosophical, which commenced 
in Greece; and the third, the beginning of 
which may, perhaps, be traced to Aristotle, 


Q18 MEMOIRS OF 


though its importance can only be dated from 
the sixteenth century. In this lecture were also 
discussed the age of the world, the vestiges of 
the great deluge, and the value of the astro- 
nomical records of primitive nations. 

The second lecture gave a sketch of the four 
great nations constituted at the remotest period 
before Christianity, and of which history gives 
us any certain information. ‘The extent of their 
knowledge was measured ; the influence of that 
knowledge appreciated ; and, in speaking of Mo- 
ses, M. Cuvier said that, although Moses was 
brought up in all the learning of the Egyptians, 
he foresaw the inconveniences of, and laboured 
much to abolish their practice of veiling the 
truth under mysterious emblems. ‘That Moses 
was in possession of that truth was evident from 
his system of cosmogony, which every discovery 
of recent times serves but to confirm. ‘The pro- 
egress of the nations who sprung from the Egyp- 
tians, the diffusion of their learning, the bards, 
the philosophers, the schools of Greece, were 
given with a most absorbing interest and beauty, 
and occupied six lectures. In the eighth, he 
began his history of Aristotle, the founder of 
the science of natural history. As might be 
expected, M. Cuvier became, if possible, more 


BARON CUVIER. 219 


eloquent, more fascinating than ever. The sub- 
ject was likely to inspire him, and his audience 
were not disappointed; they left the lecture- 
room, forgetting their favourite professor, for 
the moment, in his description of his great pre- 
decessor. 

The twelfth lecture was devoted to the ad- 
vantages which accrued to science, in conse- 
quence of the labours of Aristotle. From these 
the Professor passed to a rapid sketch of the 
history of the Ptolemies ; and before he laid the 
world before his hearers, in the state in which 
it was under the dominion of the Romans, he 
glanced over the Carthaginians and Etrurians. 
Having at length reached the masters of the 
globe, he gave a full description of those mag- 
nificent feasts, and those combats of animals, 
which put every known quarter of the earth 
under contribution, and passed all their learned 
men in review. ‘Then tracing the state of sci- 
ence during the great struggles which established 
Christianity, and during its languid existence in 
the Byzantine Empire, M. Cuvier led the atten- 
tion towards the Arabs, who cultivated some 
branches with success. He then followed it 
into the different nations composed of the wrecks 
of the Western Empire, and through the slight 


22() MEMOIRS OF 


glimmerings of existence shown during the 
middle ages, and throwing the same deep tone 
of interest over every epoch, the revival of let- 
ters gave fresh scope to his discourse. It was 
no longer a mere dawning, or a decay, which at 
times seemed hopeless; but it was a series of 
brilliant discoveries, which spread their influ- 
ence over the remotest parts of the world; and, 
beginning with printing, he, in his opening lec- 
ture to the second part of his course, premised, 
that he should no longer be able to enter into 
those details which had accompanied his account 
of preceding ages. ‘The subject became too 
vast, and during the seventeenth, eighteenth, 
and nineteenth centuries, the number of authors 
multiplied to such a degree, that it was impossi- 
ble for him to do more than select the most im- 
portant, and he was obliged to divide science 
itself into several branches, in order to be more 
easily comprehended. ‘The first branch thus 
noticed was anatomy, the progress of which he 
traced to the middle of the seventeenth century. 
He in like manner treated zoology, and the tra- 
vels which threw light upon it. He then pro- 
ceeded to botany, mineralogy, and chemistry, 
bringing each down to the same period. 

The discoveries of Galileo and Descartes were 


BARON. CUVIER. 2921 


considered in the eleventh lecture of the second 
course, and the influence they and their writings 
shed over natural sciences. ‘To this influence 
may be attributed the formation of the different 
academies of science, the history of which, toge- 
ther with that of the celebrated men who com- 
posed them at their commencement, formed a 
most interesting lecture. ‘Then, having proved 
by cited works and discoveries, that the seven- 
teenth century was the great era of science, and 
having finished the history of this period in all 
its scientific bearings, M. Cuvier closed his second 
course by summing up all that had been said in 
an abridged form. 

The third course began with the eidhteenth 
century, which, like its predecessors, passed in 
review, though, from its importance and activity, 
it, in several instances, required even more divi- 
sion into parts, and various features of it de- 
manded especial notice. ‘To Buffon, for instance, 
M. Cuvier devoted two entire lectures, which 
at the time were thought to be the most beau- 
tiful and eloquent he had ever delivered. This 
third course was interrupted from the preceding 
Easter till the December following, when he re- 
opened it for the purpose of continuing his his- 
tory from the time of Buffon. He first gave a 


229 MEMOIRS OF 


clear and eloquent résumé of the philosophy of 
Kant, of Fichte, and of Schelling ; and one day 
in every week was set apart by him, notwith- 
standing his increased duties asa peer of France, 
for the continuation of this immense undertak- 
ing. The interval of repose which followed, and 
which was absolutely necessary for his health, 
was prolonged much beyond his calculation by 
the dreadful visitation of the cholera; but on 
the 8th of May, 1832, he again resumed the 
chair with one of his most impressive and ele- 
vated discourses. Never had he spoken with 
more fire, nor with more ease to himself: he 
« could have continued for two or three hours 
longer,” he said, “ had he not been afraid of 
tiring his audience.” But they had heard him 
for the last time, and this lecture, the memorable 
words it contained, and the effect it produced, 
seem to me to be so inseparable from his death, 
that, for a further description of it, I must refer 
the reader to the last portion of this volume, 
where the sad details of the closing scene are 
related at length. And now having endeavoured, 
though I fear but with inadequate success, to 
describe M. Cuvier’s scientific labours, I cannot 
do better than return to that part of his works, 
which it is here the principal object to illustrate, 


BARON CUVIER. 995 


The two examples offered of his familiar style of 
writing, belong to his private character ; and, in 
the first, written to Madame Cuvier immediately 
after starting for one of his journeys, the man, 
the husband, and the father, are so simply and 
and unconsciously exposed, that I cannot be too 
thankful for the permission to make it public. 
The second was addressed to M. Valenciennes, 
during the last illness of M. Cuvier’s daughter, 
and both speak too forcibly for the writer to re- 
quire any further comment. 


Pont Sainte Maxence, 
Dimanche, 19 Mai, 1811. Soir. 


Ma tendre amie, 

Le temps, les chemins, les cheveaux et les 
postilions se sont trouvés si excellens, que nous 
sommes arrivés a Pont Sainte Maxence avant 
six heures, et que j’ai amérement regretté les 
deux ou trois bonnes heures que j’aurais pu 
passer encore avec toi, sans retarder en rien le 
terme de mon voyage; crois du moins que je 
les y passe bien en imagination, et que le sou- 
venir de tes caresses, et de ta douce amitié fera 
le bonheur de toute ma route. Dis je te prie a 
Sophie combien j’ai été touché de ses adieux; 
dis-le aussi a ma bonne Clémentine; pour 


224 MEMOIRS OF 


Georges, il ne pensait encore qu’au malheur de 
ne plus avoir des bétes tous les soirs, mais je te 
prie de lui en promettre, et méme de lui en don- 
ner quelques fois de ma part, en bois, en plomb, 
ou en toute autre matiére solide, car il m’a tres- 
bien fait remarquer ce matin, que des bétes en 
gravure ne pouvaient pas se tenir debout. Ce 
pauvre enfant ne se doute pas combien il pour- 
rait rencontrer chaque jour des bétes qui se 
tiendraient debout. Ma bonne amie, nous nous 
portons bien; nous avons parcouru un pays 
agréable; nous sommes dans un auberge sup- 
portable; notre voiture parait vouloir résister: 
ainsi jusqu’a ce moment tout s’annonce bien. 
Prie Dieu que cela dure: tu es si bonne qu’il ne 
peut te refuser. Adieu. Mille tendres baisers. 


Gc: 


LETTER I. 


Ponte Sainte Maxence, 
Sunday evening, 19th May, 1811. 
My tender Friend, 


The weather, the roads, the horses, and the 
postilions, have proved so excellent, that we 
have reached Pont Sainte Maxence before six 
o’clock ; and I have bitterly regretted the two 
or three good hours that I could still have pass- 


BARON CUVIER. 225 


ed with thee, without in the least retarding the 
end of my journey. At least, believe that I have 
passed them in my imagination, and that the re- 
membrance of thy caresses and tender friend- 
ship will form the happiness of my whole way. 
I beg of thee to tell Sophie how sensible I was 
to her adieus ; say the same to my good Clemen- 
tine: as to George, he only thought of the un- 
happiness of not having any more bétes every 
evening, but I ask of thee to promise him some, 
and even to give him some occasionally, as from 
me, in wood, in lead, or any other solid sub- 
stance; for he aptly remarked to me this morn- 
ing, that the bétes in engravings could not stand 
upright. The poor child does not think how often 
he may daily meet with bétes who do hold them- 
selves upright. We are quite well, my good friend; 
we have traversed an agreeable country; and 
we are in a tolerable inn. Our carriage appears 
to be quite able to bear the journey; thus, up to 
this moment, all goes well. Pray to God that 
this may last; thou art so good that he cannot 
refuse thee. Adieu. A thousand tender kisses. 


226 MEMOIRS OF 


LETTER I1.* 
My dear Friend, 

You have done well to go to Leyden, as you 
will there collect new materials ; besides, at this 
moment you would only see a spectacle of deso- 
lation. My poor daughter is very ill; and alarm 
and affliction torment me too much to allow me 
to devote myself to any regular occupation. 
Take care of the autumnal fevers. Give my 
compliments and thanks to M. Temminck. 
Adieu. 


* See fac-simile. 


BARON CUVIER. Q27 


PART, Tl. 


I am now arrived at that part of the Baron 
Cuvier’s labours which is least known in this 
country, and certainly the least understood, on 
account of the marked differences which must 
always exist between the legislature of two na- 
tions so dissimilar in feeling and character as 
England and France. Before I enter upon this 
subject, however, I must request my readers to 
bear in their memory these three things : —First, 
that the improvement of the human mind and 
morals was the Baron Cuvier’s sole and real 
ambition; secondly, that his leading inclination 
was the advancement of science, which he consi- 
dered the best auxiliary of his views on mankind ; 
and thirdly, that the great maxim and rule of 
his life was order. Whatever tended to de- 
range these was avoided by him with the most 
scrupulous care; whatever tended to their ad- 
vancement was most cherished by him. He 
loved his places, because they gave him the 
power of executing his great and benevolent 
Q 2 


228 MEMOIRS OF 


views, and he preferred that mode of govern- 
ment which lent most aid to his enlarged and 
philanthropical schemes. At the same time, he 
steadily and firmly rejected every thing which 
would have disturbed that internal repose of con- 
science which was absolutely necessary to the 
exertion of his own powers. 

It is not to be supposed, because M. Cuvier 
supported every government under which he 
lived, defended its laws, its institutions, and its 
existence itself, in his temporary office of Com- 
missaire du Roi*, as Counsellor of the Univer- 
sity, and Counsellor of State, that he was blindly 
attached to existing forms. On the contrary, 
he wished for, he sought amendment and cor- 
rection; but his knowledge of the history of all 
nations, the experience of his youth, taught him, 
that the sudden subversion of these forms and 
institutions produced anarchy and confusion, 
and stagnated every thing like progress; and 
what he demanded was, that every attempted 
improvement should be the result of deep 
thought, calm discussion, and vigorous search 
after the necessity of its taking place. He felt 
that the passion for innovations of all kinds, 


* The office of Commissaire du Roi is, to defend all the 
bills brought before either House by the ministry. 


BARON CUVIER. 229 


which characterised the times in which he lived, 
produced a constant change of systems, which 
was calculated rather to destroy than to improve, 
and, consequently, his actions and counsels were 
conservative, yet progressive. ‘He was always the 
mediator between the time passed and the time to 
come — between France and other nations ; he re- 
sisted the antipathy of his countrymen against 
those whom they chose to cali barbarous; and 
with his whole force always tried to stem the tor- 
rent which their vanity and versatility occasionally 
. poured over that which was wise and useful.” 

It has frequently been remarked, with great 
bitterness, that M. Cuvier held more places than 
any man had a right to monopolise. The best 
answer to this attack is, the manner in which he 
fulfilled the duties attached to them; a fact 
easily ascertained now they have passed into 
other hands, though his career alone can show, 
how the income of the statesman furnished the 
savant with the means of carrying on his labours ; 
how the counsellor of his sovereign protected the 
naturalist ; and how “ the new Aristotle became 
his own Alexander.” 

It would be difficult to decide in which part 
of his public life Baron Cuvier’s talents were 
most pre-eminent; the affairs of the University 

Q3 


230 MEMOIRS OF 


alone would have sufficed for most men; for 
not only were the letters, notes, and remarks 
which proceeded from his pen in this service 
innumerable, but, besides these every-day la- 
bours, of which the heads of the departments only 
can form a just calculation, he wrote a mass of 
Memoirs and Reports, either to enable the di- 
recting ministry to comprehend the nature of 
this institution, or to furnish them with argu- 
ments for its defence against its many enemies, 
Appointed to be one of the members of the 
Council of the University (1808), he soon at- 
tracted the notice of the Grand Master, Fon- 
tanes, who named him Commissaire of a discus- 
sion about to take place in the Council of State, 
in the presence of Napoleon, respecting the Im- 
perial University. M. Regnault de St. Jean 
d’ Angely, who spoke against the university, sup- 
ported his opinion with much warmth, and with 
all the talent he so eminently possessed. M. 
Cuvier replied to him, and Napoleon, who had 
listened to both with the greatest attention, 
turned towards M. Regnault, and said, ‘Je 
crois que vous étes atteint et convaincu d’avoir 
tort,” &c.* This circumstance, and the reports 


* Ibelieve that you stand impeached and convicted of 
being wrong, &c. 


BARON CUVIER. 231 


made by M. Cuvier after his return from Italy 
and Holland, led the Emperor to appreciate his 
legislative talents, and to appoint him Maitre 
des Requétes* in the Council of State. His 
high opinion went still further; for he ordered 
M. Cuvier to select a library for the use of the 
King of Rome in his education. The list was 
made, and laid before Napoleon at the ‘Thuil- 
leries, when the expedition to Russia put an end 
to all these projects. 

Raised to the rank of Counsellor of State t 
in 1814, M. Cuvier’s powers of defence were 
constantly called forth in favour of the body 
of which he formed a part; and not only did he 
shield it from the attacks made upon it, but he 
was often obliged to teach the very ministers the 
part it played in the government, and the im- 
portance to themselves of preserving this insti- 
tution. The ministerial archives of France 


* The office of the Maitres des Requétes is, to examine 
all questions about to be brought forward in the Council of 
State, to report upon them to the Council, and to give their 
own opinions concerning the matter. 

+ This appointment astonished several of those who were 
about the Court, and one who was allowed to converse with 
Napoleon having asked him why he called a savant to the 
Council of State, the Emperor replied, “ that he may be able 
to rest himself sometimes ;” well knowing, that to a man 
like M. Cuvier the best repose was a change of occupation. 


Q 4 


2382 MEMOIRS OF 


contain many of his Memoirs on this subject, by 
which he demonstrated the necessity of separat- 
ing the judicial from the administrative part of 
government, as ordered by the Constituent As- 
sembly ; at the same time, that this could not be 
effected without the creation of a Council of 
State. The duties of this body are, to prepare 
laws, to examine ordonnances, and to decide 
whether the complaints brought against the 
authorised agents of the government require 
judicial proceedings. It is composed of en- 
lightened men, who offer a better chance of im- 
partiality than if they themselves were attached 
to the offices filled by the offending parties. In 
a very few years after he was admitted to the 
Council of State, we find M. Cuvier appointed 
President of the Comité de l’Intérieur *, and 
from this time his legislative duties were so 
mingled with those belonging to the University, 


* A committee belonging to the Council of State, especi- 
ally appointed to advise with the Minister of the Interior on 
all administrative questions, to draw up the ordonnances 
issued from that body, and to prepare the plans of various 
laws. This committee examines all the disputes which arise 
between individuals and the administration, authorises the 
grants of mines, the construction of bridges and roads, super- 
intends the statutes of different societies, and judges if it be 
advisable to accept legacies or donations to public establish- 
ments, the clergy, &c. 


BARON CUVIER. 233 


that it becomes difficult, and, in fact, almost 
impossible, to speak of them separately. Called 
to these important charges when all required to 
be revived and reorganised, it is scarcely pos- 
sible for us to conceive the difficulties that were 
presented to him: but with what vigour and 
talent did he put all into action! Public In- 
struction being attached to the Presidency, he 
was obliged to draw out the plans for study; to 
regulate the discipline of the schools; to decide 
according to the actual necessities of a new 
order of society; and, nevertheless, only to obey 
these necessities so long as they did not inter- 
fere with those principles of public or domestic 
order, without which there is no repose, either 
in a family or a state: in short, to give the rising 
generation the knowledge and habits most cal- 
culated to preserve the great ties of society, and 
to select those who were most worthy of disse- 
minating such knowledge into every part of the 
kingdom. How vast then must have been 
that capacity which, besides these duties, em- 
braced every branch of science and literature ! 
I dare not dispute that others may have been 
equally gifted by a beneficent Creator, but I 
dare affirm, that the one ruling principle of 
order was the human agency by which M. Cu- 


234 MEMOIRS OF 


vier brought his heaven-born faculties into full 
force. 

M. Cuvier greatly occupied himself with 
municipal and provincial laws, and those relating 
to public instruction ; every branch of which was 
the object of his exertions. His projects were 
often too much modified before they were exe- 
cuted, for the Jesuits, as a matter of course, 
were his formidable enemies. Not contented 
with issuing ordonnances from the Department 
of the Interior, he composed a great many Me- 
moirs to accompany them, which exposed their 
motives, and formed so many precious commen- 
taries, as they explained with the greatest perspi- 
cuity the reason of every article. He thought 
it as useful to spread every where the reason of 
the laws as to disseminate the laws themselves ; 
thinking that the latter are often attacked and 
mistaken by the public for want of a proper com- 
prehension of the motives which caused them to 
be framed. 

Under the ministry formed on the 26th of 
September, 1815, and composed of the Duc de 
Richelieu, Marbois, Corvetto, Fittre, Vaublanc, 
Dabouchage, and deCazes, M. Cuvier was enabled 
to render an essential service to France, which 
I cannot do better than describe in a translation 


BARON CUVIER. 235 


of his own notes. ‘* I had then an opportunity of 
rendering greatservices tothis country, which have 
never been publicly declared, but which I should 
be sorry should not one day be known to have 
emanated from me. R——— supported me in 
all the ameliorations we brought about in the 
Council concerning the criminal laws, which 
were prepared in the spirit of the times, but the 
modifications which rendered those of the Pre- 
votal Courts * almost inoffensive are due to me. 
In the first place, judicial power was given tothem, 
not only over revolts, and attempts openly com- 
mitted on the public peace, but over conspiracies 
and attempts plotted in secret ; and not only over 
crimes which might take place after the law was 
promulgated, but over all which had taken place 
at any period whatever. It is very evident that 
in a country like ours, where there are so many 
men of all classes ever ready to follow the tor- 
rent of the day, these two powers would have 
transformed the Prevotal Courts into so many 
revolutionary tribunals. Nevertheless, we did 
not obtain any thing from the united Committees 


* The Prevotal Courts were created by the Bourbons, in 
order to judge all public disturbances, and from whose 
decisions there was no appeal. They in some sort assimi- 
lated to our special commission. 


236 MEMOIRS OF 


of the Interior, and the law was prepared; but 
after a meeting of the Council of State, presided 
by the Duc de Richelieu, I demanded a dis- 
cussion of these questions in his presence before 
anew assemblage of the Committees. I believe 
that I never spoke with so much fire; and, not- 


withstanding the violence of ———— and ; 
thanks to the upright and honest mind of the 
Duc de Richelieu, I succeeded in getting the 
articles concerning secret plots entirely erased. 
There yet remained the visitation of former 
offences to be overcome. M. de ———— opposed 
it in the Committee of the Chamber of Deputies, 
where it was defended by two counsellors of 
state; I was invited to join them, as I should 
naturally have been obliged to do in my office of 
Commissaire du Roi, but I refused, and the law 
did not pass. ‘The Prevotal Courts have already 
caused evil enough by the manner of their esta- 
blishment, but I venture to affirm, that their mis- 
chievous effects would have been incalculable if 
the plan had not been changed on these two 
points. Iam the sole cause with respect to that 
of the secret plots, but with regard to the punish- 
ment of past offences, M. de contributed 
with me to its being abandoned.” 

Always guided by the feeling of the good he 


BARON CUVIER. 237 


could effect, and the evil he might avert, under 
every change of ministry M. Cuvier was to be 
found, not only defending the institutions which 
were in danger of being overthrown, but in the 
Chambers and in the Council, generally success- 
ful in preventing those alterations which would 
have reduced the objects of his unremitting cares 
to a state of feebleness. Under the ministry of 
M. , a proposal was made to introduce the 
Jesuits into the University, or, in fact, to deliver 
it into their hands, and M. Cuvier’s firm and 
spirited resistance alone prevented this measure, 
which, in all probability, would have caused its 
destruction. His refusal to form a part of the 
commission for the censorship of the press, at a 
moment when, from the despotic nature of the 
government, this refusal might have been fol- 
lowed by the most grievous consequences to 
himself, yet more forcibly proves that he was 
not the man to preserve his places at the price 
of his reputation. As this occurrence has been 
much misrepresented, I shall relate all the cir- 
cumstances which attended it. In M. Cuvier’s 
capacity of Counsellor of State, he had been one 
of the first most vigorously to oppose the censor- 
ship, and fearlessly maintained his opinion, both 
in full Council and in the Chamber of Deputies ; 


238 MEMOIRS OF 


using all the energy and reasoning he could 
command, and leaving nothing undone to put a 
stop to the measure. ‘Thus far he had only to 
act in strict accordance with the rank he held in 
the state, but the interference of another body 
placed him in a more painful situation. The 
Académie Francaise, of which he was so dis- 
tinguished a member, determined to interfere in 
this question; and it became a matter of consi- 
deration and dispute, whether a purely learned 
assembly had any right to join itself to party, 
and intermeddle with affairs of state. M. Cuvier 
was of opinion, that it entirely lost sight of its 
proper character by so doing; that it would 
thus endanger the harmony of the members 
among themselves; that it destroyed its oppor- 
tunities of usefulness by not retaining its inde- 
pendence of politics, and completely overstepped 
the legal boundary, by presenting a petition from 
a body, which privilege in France is only accorded 
to individuals. These motives alone (for he dared 
not listen to the detestation he felt for the cause 
of this step on the part of the Academy) in- 
duced him to employ all his eloquence to prevent 
the petition from being presented to the King. 
Heunhesitatingly exposed the inconveniences, the 
hateful bearings of such a law; but he persisted 


BARON CUVIER. 239 


in it, that the Academy had no right to mingle 
itself with political questions ; and that, if it once 
suffered itself to assume such a privilege, it 
would at length dwindle to a mere instrument of 
party. On this occasion, however, his eloquence 
and reasoning proved of no avail; the King was 
petitioned by the Academy, but Charles X. would 
not even receive the deputation. The rejected 
dignitaries found favour with the multitude, 
and, of course, M, Cuvier, and those of’ his opi- 
nion, were accused of pusillanimously preserving 
their places at the expense of good feeling. The 
project, however, owing to the resistance of the 
Chamber of Peers, which then possessed more 
weight than at present, was for a while aban- 
doned. In the same year it was renewed, and, 
without even asking his consent, before he was 
in the least aware that the measure had been de- 
cided on, the ministry appointed M. Cuvier one 
of the censors of the press. On Sunday the 14th 
of June, 1827, at midnight, arrived an official 
despatch from the government, written by M. 
Peyronnet, to announce to him that his ap- 
pointment to this office would appear the next 
morning, at nine o’clock, in the Moniteur. To 
refuse the intended honour; to foresee the pro- 
bable consequences of such a refusal; to yield 


24.0 MEMOIRS OF 


to these consequences without hesitation; in 
short, to prefer conscience to interest, was the 
work of an instant; and in ten minutes, a firm, 
dignified, but moderate refusal, was sent to the 
Chancery. The ordonnance was at that moment 
printed, and M. Cuvier’s name appeared in the 
list of the morning, because it had been physi- 
cally impossible to get it erased; but private 
means were taken to publish his refusal in every 
quarter, till all France was in entire possession 
of the fact. Most of the papers, under fear of 
the censorship, had been unable to repair the 
error; and, in fact, when the Journal des Debats 
ventured to insert M. Cuvier’s rejection of the 
office, the lines which contained it were scratched 
out by the censors.* This conduct, with the 
fickle public, regained M. Cuvier’s lost popu- 
larity, but produced great coolness towards him 
on the part of the King. I ought not, however, 
to omit mentioning, to the credit of Charles X., 
that this coolness ceased after M. Cuvier’s dread- 
ful calamity. The first time he appeared at 
Court after the loss of his daughter, his Majesty 
addressed him with considerable feeling and 


* Others refused the office at the same time, but I have 
only to speak of M. Cuvier. 


BARON CUVIER. 241 


kindness, asked him several questions relative to 
the event, and expressed himself as deeply con- 
cerned. 

For the last thirteen years of his life did 
M. Cuvier preside over the Comité de I’Intérieur, 
and the number of affairs which passed through 
his hands in this office alone is almost frightful 
to the imagination: I ought not, perhaps, to say 
passed through, but that they were examined, 
deeply considered, and forwarded by him. I 
should speak much within the limits of the truth, 
if I were to state them at ten thousand every 
year. ‘The art of properly distributing the work 
among his colleagues; his talent in directing 
discussion ; his unfailing and prodigious me- 
mory, supplying antecedent decisions at the de- 
sired moment; his profound knowledge of the 
principles which ought to regulate each affair, the 
best method of applying these principles at the 
best opportunity ;—these qualities all rendered his 
presidency the most remarkable of the present 
age, and have indelibly impressed it on the 
recollection of all who had the advantage of 
labouring with him. ‘To see him at one of these 
meetings was, perhaps, to see him in his great- 
est perfection as a legislator. Rarely eager to 
give his advice, he even appeared to be thinking 

R 


24,2 MEMOIRS OF 


of subjects wholly irrelevant to the matter in dis- 
cussion; but he was often, at that very moment, 
writing the judgment or regulation which must 
necessarily follow the deliberation. His turn to 
speak only came when all others had stated their 
reasons, When useless words were expended. 
Then a new light burst upon the whole ; facts 
assumed their proper position, confused and min- 
eled ideas were arranged in order, the inevitable 
consequences appeared, and when he ceased to 
speak the discussion was terminated.”* 

But these were not all the legislative labours 
of M. Cuvier. Always holding the office of 
Chancellor to the University, he bad twice been 
forced, in the temporary vacation of the Grand 
Mastership, to take upon himself the highest 
dignity, and, during these two periods, fewer 
complaints were made against this institution 
than at any other.t A most gratifying proof of 


* These are nearly the words of one of M. Cuvier’s brother 
legislators, the Baron Pasquier, to whose eloquent éloge, de- 
livered in the Chamber of Peers, of which he is president, I 
am deeply indebted. My sole object is to do justice to 
M. Cuvier’s talents and character ; and to accomplish this, I 
may be excused for employing better language than my own, 
especially when the writers speak from personal knowledge. 

+ It should be understood, that, in twice accepting the 
functions of Grand Master for the time being, M. Cuvier 
never received the salary attached to this high dignity, 


BARON CUVIER. 248 


the respect felt for him took place at the mo- 
ment that a change was made in this appoint- 
ment. It was the duty of the newly named 
Grand Master to distribute some prizes awarded 
by the University ; but he was very far from being 
popular, and as the public mind was at that mo- 
ment considerably agitated by political events, 
it was generally understood that the students 
intended to raise a violent commotion. Whether 
he was in reality unprepared with his discourse, 
or whether he feared the consequences of ap- 


though it increased his household expenses, and though it 
was richly endowed, even under the restored government. 
The following are the dates of his holding this office :— 
M. Royer Collard vacated the presidency of the committee of 
public instruction on the 13th of September, 1819. M. Cu- 
vier replaced him on the same day; and a letter from the 
minister of the interior, dated the 17th of the same month, 
notified the desire of the King, that the committee should _ 
continue its labours under the presidency of the counsellor 
holding the place of chancellor, M. Cuvier was that chan- 
cellor, and continued in the rank of Grand Master until the 
21st of December, 1820, at which period M. Corbiére was ap- 
pointed to it. M. Corbiére resigned on the 31st of July, 1821, 
and M. Cuvier was again chosen to fill the vacancy until the 
Ist of June, 1822, when M. Frayssinous was named Grand 
Master. The day on which M. Frayssinous was called to 
the ministry, M. Cuvier was appointed Grand Master for 
Protestant Affairs, which dignity only ceased with his exist- 
ence; and, let it be remembered, was equally filled by him 
without pecuniary remuneration. 


Rr 2 


24.4, MEMOIRS OF 


pearing on this occasion, the recently chosen 
dignitary requested M. Cuvier to officiate for 
him. Tottering, as the University was at that 
time, under the enmity of many powerful men, 
one act of violence, one instance of excitation 
and imprudence on the part of its youthful fol- 
lowers, might have caused its downfall; but M. 
Cuvier met the difficulty with his wonted energy 
and judgment. Half an hour, taken from the 
duties of the preceding evening, was devoted to 
the composition of a discourse, which only re- 
quired some minutes to deliver. The day ar- 
rived, and the students appeared, manifesting 
every hostile disposition. ‘The sight of M. Cu- 
vier first checked their excited feelings: they 
remained in respectful silence; the reason and 
gentleness of his expressions restored complete 
tranquillity ; the distribution took place, and, as 
the benevolent and revered master laid the 
crowns upon the heads of his disciples, he ad- 
dressed them as a father would his children ; 
nothing but the murmurs of gratitude and ap- 
plause were heard, instead of the angry and tur- 
bulent conduct threatened, and the University 
was saved. 

Even had Charles X. made the Grand Mas. 
tership of the University a permanent office, 


~ 


BARON CUVIER. 245 


which intention he more than once expressed, 
M. Cuvier could not have held it, owing to the 
insurmountable obstacle presented by his reli- 
gion; therefore was he made perpetual Grand 
Master of the Protestant Faculties. ‘This ho- 
nour was not even opposed by the Catholic 
bishops, who were thoroughly sensible of M. 
Cuvier’s profound knowledge of ecclesiastical 
affairs, of his tolerating spirit, which never 
prompted him to one harsh measure, and he 
assumed this important charge to the great sa- 
tisfaction of all France; if, indeed, we except 
the fanatics of his own creed, who were, per- 
haps, as much opposed to his enlightened views 
as the Jesuits, and caused even greater obstacles 
to the ameliorations he endeavoured to establish. 
He instantly commenced a completely new sys- 
tem of order and encouragement, which, it is 
true, did not always succeed according to his 
hopes; so difficult is it to wean the unenlight- 
ened from the prejudice of party, and from long- 
establishedideas. He, however, perseveringly con- 
tinued his endeavours, undaunted even by the 
failure of many schemes, provided he could be 
successful but in one instance. He believed that 
instruction would lead to civilisation, and civi- 
lisation to morality; and, therefore, that primary 
r 8 


24.6 MEMOIRS OF 


instruction should give to the people every 
means of fully exercising their industry without 
disgusting them with their condition; that se- 
condary instruction should expand the mind 
without rendering it false or presumptuous ; 
and that special instruction* should give to 
France, magistrates, generals, physicians, clergy, 
and professors, all distinguished for their en- 
lightened views ; in fact, that succession of ele- 
vated characters which make the real and 
imperishable glory of the country in which they 
act their part. But here it may be interesting 
again to introduce M. Cuvier’s own words, as 
expressing his sentiments, and which have been 
supplied to me by M. Laurillard :—‘“ Give 
schools before political rights; make citizens 
comprehend the duties that the state of society 
imposes on them; teach them what are political 
rights before you offer them for their enjoyment. 
Then all ameliorations will be made without 


* These three terms of primary, secondary, and special, 
to which I believe we have nothing analogous in England, 
designate, first, the instruction given to the poorer classes 
both in town and country, and which, in France, is confined 
to reading, writing, and the first four rules of arithmetic ; 
secondly, a more extended education, fit for general pur- 
poses ; and, thirdly, a still more elevated course of study, 
which fits the pupils for any particular career to which they 
may direct their views. 


BARON CUVIER. Q47 


causing a shock; then each new idea, thrown 
upon good ground, will have time to germinate, 
to grow, and to ripen, without convulsing the 
social body. Imitate nature, who, in the deve- 
lopement of beings, acts by gradation, and gives 
time to every member of her most powerful 
elements. ‘The infant remains nine months in 
the body of its mother; man’s physical perfec- 
tion only takes place at twenty or thirty, and 
his moral completion from thirty to forty. In- 
stitutions must have ages to produce all their 
fruits; witness Christianity, the effects of which 
are not yet accomplished, notwithstanding a 
thousand years of existence.” 

With such objects always in view, M. Cuvier 
attempted and executed several improvements, 
of which I shall now speak, ‘The buildings of 
the ancient Collége du Plessis, in which the fa- 
culties were placed, being in a state of general 
dilapidation, he obtained from the government, 
a grant of the Sorbonne for their use; and as it 
was highly important that the lectures should 
not be interrupted during the removal, he ex- 
erted all his activity, incessantly visited the 
architect appointed to direct the works, and re- 
iterated his own inspections, till the object was 
accomplished. The Faculty of Sciences owe 

R 4 


248 MEMOIRS OF 


the funds they possess for a cabinet of natural 
history, and for the purchase of various instru- 
ments, entirely to M. Cuvier’s efforts. The ap- 
pointment of medical officers, who understood 
natural history, to the government vessels, was 
solely due to his suggestions, as well as that of 
attaching collecting travellers to the museum of 
the Jardin des Plantes. The treasures brought 
home by the Uranie, the Coquille, and other ships, 
are proof of the excellence of the first plan ; for 
the officers were delighted to employ their leisure 
in drawing, describing, and preserving the objects 
they met with in the course of their expedition. 
The rapid increase of the museum at the Jardin, 
during the life of M. Cuvier, speaks too plainly 
for the latter to need further comment. The 
mode of appointing professors is a complicated 
question in France : some are partisans for elec- 
tion by vote, some support nomination by esta- 
blished high authority, and others, succession. 
Each of these methods is attended with incon- 
venience ; and voting, which theoretically may 
appear to be the best, has not realised the 
hopes of those who caused it to be adopted. It 
gives an opportunity for all to enter the lists ; 
and men of consummate skill and experience 
do not like to find themselves placed in contact 


BARON CUVIER. 24.9 


with those just issued from the schools; who, 
with all the fire and confidence of youth, fre- 
quently obtain their wishes by their brilhancy, 
while those of much more real merit are left far 
behind. The other methods are particularly open 
to private feelings, or a liability to place men of 
inferior merit in the professor’s chair. ‘To ob- 
viate these inconveniences and abuses, M. Cuvier 
created that method which, in France, is called 
ageregation. <A defeat is of comparatively little 
consequence to young students; and therefore, 
according to this institution, directly they quit 
the schools, they undergo an election in order 
to become agregés: these agregés are assist- 
ants to sick or aged professors, during their at- 
tendance on whom, time and opportunity are 
given for the developement of their talents, and 
to make themselves known. At the death of 
the professor, the faculty to which he belonged 
presents three candidate agregés to the minister, 
whose choice determines the appointment. 

Long convinced that those destined to differ- 
ent administrative functions should follow a 
course of study especially adapted to these du- 
ties, in the same manner as they do for the 
learned professions, M. Cuvier proposed to the 
Simeon ministry to create a new faculty, or par- 


250 MEMOIRS OF 


ticular school of administration, on the models 
of those which have long existed in Germany, 
and to which faculty he desired that his name 
should be attached. The project was prepared, 
and nearly put in execution, when the above 
minister retired, and from the succeeding party 
nothing further could be obtained than a chair 
for administrative law, and even that was very 
shortly suppressed. 

All the minor schools of France were likewise 
the objects of M. Cuvier’s earnest solicitude ; 
and, notwithstanding the frustration of many of 
his plans, from an obstinate attachment to old 
methods, he succeeded, by reiterated appeals to 
the government, in establishing among them 
professors of history, living languages, and na- 
tural history. In order to further primary 
instruction, he caused the institution of provin- 
cial committees for superintending the schools of 
their own departments, thinking that emulation 
would thus be excited among those called to the 
office, consequently their zeal redoubled, and 
their endeavours carried to a greater extent. In 
some provinces this plan was attended with the 
greatest success, but in others party spirit and 
consequent dissension paralysed even the most 
active. As a further proof of the ever-watchful 


BARON CUVIER. Q51 


cares of M. Cuvier, and the extent to which he 
carried his anxious endeavours, I now quote a 
discourse delivered after his death. In this we 
have not only the words of the superintendent 
of an important establishment, but his own in 
evidence of the extreme interest he felt in this 
primary branch of education. ‘This discourse 
emanated from M. Reynal, Rector of the Aca- 
demy of Bourges, and was delivered at the dis- 
tribution of prizes in the protestant school of 
Arniéres. | 

«© My dear children,— The faithful followers 
of our church have spared sufficient from their 
own wants to build a school for you, and to 
afford you all that is desirable for your instruc- 
tion. ‘The academy (of Bourges) has associated 
itself with them in this work of devotion and 
self-sacrifice ; it has already done much, and 
will do still more, by appealing in your behalf to 
the benevolent protection of the university. You 
see, my dear children, that you have friends and 
benefactors every where. But, alas! he is no 
more— he who held the first rank among them! 
A premature death has snatched him from. sci- 
ence, from literature, from your brethren, from 
us, from all mankind. The whole of the learned 


world deplores his loss. You are too young, 


Q52 MEMOIRS OF 


my children, to have heard him spoken of in 
your village, but the great man who tried to do 
you so much good, who unceasingly thought of 
you, was called George Cuvier. Recollect this 
name, and mention it every day in the prayers 
that you address to heaven. He has often 
written to me, * Do not, Monsieur le Recteur, 
lose sight of our school at Arniéres les Bourges. 
I recommend the scholars of it to you as my 
brothers, as my best friends. Instil into them 
submission to their parents, respect for the pro- 
perty of others, candour and justice. These 
are the virtues and duties of all religions. Let 
benevolence and affection reign between them 
and the children who inhabit the same village, 
and who, like them, live by their labours in the 
fields. God loves and protects them all with 
equal goodness; with the same hand he blesses 
the sweat of their brow, and their harvests; let 
them, therefore, behave towards each other like 
children of the same father.’ 

«¢ My conscience tells me, that towards you, 
my children, and all the young people confided 
to my care, I have fulfilled my duties, and most 
especially the views of your protector, the 
great man whom we lament. This place is very 
humble, my voice is very feeble for the praise of 


& 


BARON CUVIER. 253 


such a life. ‘The eulogium of George Cuvier, 
of the same religion as yours, will often appear 
in your books, and will be pronounced by our 
learned bodies and our most celebrated orators. 
However, a word sincerely uttered within these 
walls to the memory of one so dear to us, of the 
learned and virtuous man who deigned_ to 
honour me with his goodness, has not appeared 
to me to be out of place, or without interest ; and 
it is as much for your sake as for my own that 
it becomes me here to speak of George Cuvier, 
and to lead you in him to preserve the recollec- 
tion of one of your most ardent benefactors. Let 
this short eulogium serve you as a lesson, and 
teach you to be always grateful to those who 
wish us well, and especially to those who do us 
good.” 

During M. Cuvier’s direction of the Protest- 
ant Faculties he became one of the Vice-Pre- 
sidents of the Bible Society, and caused the 
creation of fifty new cures, which had very long 
been wanting. The protestant churches re- 
quired fresh regulation and discipline, and for 
this purpose he collected the opinions of the 
different pastors of these churches, placing in this 
matter, as well as in all others, great confidence 
in the counsels of experience; and had, in con- 


254 MEMOIRS OF 


sequence, drawn up the plan of a new law, 
which was to have been laid before that session 
in which he did not live to take his seat. The 
feeling with which the ministers of his own re- 
ligion generally viewed him will be proved by 
the following extracts from the discourse de- 
livered at his funeral by M. Boissard, minister 
of the protestant church in the Rue des Billettes. 
«Let us not forget those long abandoned cha- 
pels re-opened to our youth in the royal col- 
leges; let us not forget the abundant distribution 
of religious and moral books under his super- 
intendence. Now that his voice is extinct, let 
us fervently ask of our God, let us ask in the 
name of our dearest moral interests, in the name 
of our eternal welfare, to raise up other voices, 
which may speak with the same eloquence, the 
same wisdom, and the same authority. We have 
lost him who, with inviolable attachment, ho- 
noured the creed of our forefathers; whose 
great name, whose immortal labours, shed so 
much lustre over our churches; who burdened 
himself with our ecclesiastical rights in perfect 
disinterestedness of spirit, and with the purest 
and most extensive benevolence. What do we 
not owe to that penetrating glance which re- 
vealed to him all that was wanting in our insti- 


BARON CUVIER. 255 


tutions, and under which privations we had so 
long groaned! How many ameliorations took 
place in a few years; with what wisdom and 
charity he examined our requests; and what a 
new order of things would have arisen at his 
bidding, had the Almighty suffered him to con- 
tinue among us !” 

M. Cuvier’s elevation to the Chamber of’ Peers 
was but a just tribute to his long and important 
services; and he took his place among his new 
colleagues with that calm dignity which was not 
likely to be ruffled by any accession of rank. It 
was wholly unsolicited, aud, at the moment, pro- 
duced any thing but joy in himself or his family ; 
for it appeared likely to draw him still more 
into public life, at a period when all around was 
stormy and uncertain. It is well known how 
the Chamber of Peers felt it their duty, for the 
preservation almost of their existence as a body, 
to vote in the agitating question of inheritance * ; 
and, of course, M. Cuvier acted according to 
his maxim of preferring the lesser evil, when 
evil was unavoidable; but, when unshackled by 


* In case of continued opposition, the Chamber of De- 
puties threatened to form themselves into a Constituent 
Assembly. 


256 MEMOIRS OF 


such imperious circumstances, he defended the 
University, and various questions of finance, in a 
manner which showed how little he courted po- 
pularity. The only work of his hands which 
remains in the archives of this Chamber relates 
to corn laws, and was written in a very few 
hours. But these few hours reflection, on so 
arduous and delicate a subject, sufficed him for 
the production of an exact and extensive state- 
ment of the facts which rule these laws in 
France, of the facts which ought to rule them, 
of the legislation applied to them during a cer- 
tain number of years, and, lastly, the consider- 
ations which operated in favour of the measures 
proposed in the Chamber, and which were finally 
adopted. 

A remarkable proof of the comprehensiveness 
of his legislative talents occurred in this Cham. 
ber during his short career there. A question, 
purely military, was discussed, and so many ar- 
guments took place that the affair became con- 
fused, and resisted all the efforts made to come 
to an explanation. M. Cuvier rose, immediately 
set the whole in a clear, strong point of view, so 
as to enable the desired arrangements to take 
place ; and this, not in consequence of any de- 


BARON CUVIER. Vou 


duction made from the reasoning of the moment, 
but from a thorough knowledge of the matter in 
all its bearings. 

The loi de cumul (law against accumulation) * 
would have deprived him, had it been enforced, 
of one third of his income; but it was contem- 
plated by him with the utmost calmness, and, 
even at the moment when the enforcement ap- 
peared to be inevitable, he prepared himself to 
continue in the performance of all his high func- 
tions in the state, without the slightest pecuniary 
profit. His family cheerfully adopted his views, 
from the feeling that these duties formed a va- 
riety of employment, which was a relaxation to 
such a mind, and consequently beneficial to his 
health. The loi de réductiont (law of reduc- 
tion), which attacked all places, did take away 
a considerable part of his revenue; but this ex- 
cited no other emotion than a regret that it 


* This law was to prevent any one man from benefiting 
by the salaries attached to a number of places, at one time; 
and, in fact, was intended to prevent the holding of an accu- 
mulation of employments by any one individual. 

+ The loi de réduction was to lower the salaries of all 
those who held public functions; and, as M. Cuvier was 
charged with more than any body else, it, of course, made a 
great difference in his annual receipts. 

S 


Q58 MEMOIRS OF 


must curtail the exercise of that hospitality for 
which he had so long been remarkable. 

A trifling circumstance happened during the 
latter part of M. Cuvier’s legislative duties, 
which, as it was erroneously supposed to have 
been connected with his death, may as well be 
properly explained here. While defending that 
incessant object of his anxious cares, the Univer- 
sity, before the Chamber of Deputies, in his office 
of Commissaire du Roi, his voice was much in- 
terrupted by a violent cough, on which several 
of the members came to him, to beg that he 
would go into the Salle des Conférences, and 
drink some water: one of the deputies put M. 
Cuvier’s arm within his, and led him so fast, that 
his foot slipped down a step, and he almost fell 
to the ground. The hand, however, that had 
caused the mischief, supported him; but he was 
immediately surrounded by most of those in the 
Chamber, who, evincing the deepest interest, 
obliged him to seek some refreshment in the ad- 
joining room. ‘The strongest proof that no ma- 
lady had caused this appearance of accident, is, 
that, ten minutes after, he mounted the tribune 
for the second time, and, with his usual force and 
clearness, for more than an hour, once again de- 


BARON CUVIER. I59 


feated the enemies of the University. The 
malady, which in reality laid his mortal frame in 
the dust gave no warning; and, from the mo- 
ment it appeared, left no doubt, in his own 
mind at least, of its destructive result. 


260 MEMOIRS OF 


PAR Ty. 


In the first part of this volume, I have, by a 
narrative of the principal events of the Baron 
Cuvier’s life, endeavoured to show his progress 
towards fame and honour, and to expose the cir- 
cumstances which tended to the perfection of 
one of Nature’s noblest productions. In the 
second, I have, notwithstanding the difficulties 
of such a task, and a strong feeling of my own 
weakness, tried to give an outline of M. Cuvier’s 
principal works, of his most important disco- 
veries, and the immense advantages that science 
has derived from each. In the third, I have 
studied to lay before the reader all the good he 
effected, and all the evil he prevented during 
his administrative career; and, by so doing, I 
have set forth all his titles to the grateful ad- 
miration of mankind. I am now about to at- 
tempt a more particular description of the cha- 
racter, the private virtues, and domestic habits of 
the great man, whom I have so often admired in 
the midst of his family, surrounded by friends, 
and performing the honours of his house to a 


BARON CUVIER. 261 


numerous circle, composed of men of all countries 
and professions. But before I enter into these 
details, I feel called on to refute, by a reference 
to known facts, those accusations which have 
but too often been brought against him. Men 
rarely pardon superiority, even when (as in M. 
Cuvier) it is exempt from all kinds of vanity ; 
still more rarely do they pardon those acquisi- 
tions of rank and fortune which necessarily re- 
sult from this superiority ; and the great number 
of places held by M. Cuvier, caused him to be 
accused of an ambition for power, by those who 
reckoned his employments, without reckoning 
his merits, or without recognising how useful his 
talents were to France. 

In order to set aside this unjust charge, it 
will be sufficient, here, to recall some of the 
occurrences scattered through these pages; and 
which lead me to affirm, that, so far from having 
sought or solicited places, he nobly rejected 
several which were offered to him. Twice, at 
different periods, did he refuse the directorship 
for life of the Museum of Natural History, and, 
at another, to enter the ministry,— an advance. 
ment which at that time no one thought of re- 
pulsing; and the greater number of the favours 
conferred, reached him during his absence, and 

8 3 


262 MEMOIRS OF 


were wholly unexpected. It was during his 
journey to Marseilles that the Institute ap- 
pointed him perpetual secretary ; it was while in 
Holland that he received from Napoleon, an 
endowment, with the title of Chevalier; he was 
at Rome when the Moniteur informed him of 
his having been named Maitre des Requétes ; 
in England, when he was elected to the Acade- 
mie Francaise; it was in the midst of studious 
retirement, when he had, as it were, shut out 
the world, that the rank of Peer of France 
crowned his administrative career; and, lastly, 
on the day of his death, his nomination to the 
Presidency of the entire Council of State was 
presented for the signature of his sovereign.* 
It may, therefore, be safely said, that honours 
sought him; and now, that his decease has left 
so great a void in every institution, in every 
learned and administrative body which could 
boast of his name on their lists, and most of 
which were so powerfully served by his labours, 
I trust that his actions, and the noble disinter- 
estedness of his character will be acknowledged, 


* Ido not reckon among these honours the election to 
almost every learned body in the two hemispheres ; for, of 
course, all were anxious to pay so just a tribute to M. Cuvier’s 
pre-eminence. 


BARON CUVIER. 263 


and that the breath of envy will no longer dare 
to mingle with the testimonials of admiration 
which are to be heard on all sides. 

There is yet another sort of reproach, which 
the inventors of systems overthrown by M. Cu- 
vier have dared to bring against him. ‘These, 
wounded by self-love, or contradicted in some 
cherished fancy, have not feared to attribute to 
pride, or even to a feeling of jealousy, very far 
from his noble heart, the reserve with which he 
admitted certain explanations of the phenomena 
of nature, and the resistance he offered to limited 
or defective theories, the errors and insufficiency 
of which, his penetration and profound know- 
ledge instantly led him to discover. This resist- 
ance, however, was one of the most beautiful 
parts of his character, for it proved his love of 
truth, and the ardour with which he knew how 
to defend it, even at the expense of his own tran- 
quillity ; and he fearlessly exposed himself to 
personal enmity, in order to turn students away 
from such views, the inevitable result of which 
was, to stop the progress of science, by giving 
a false direction to the minds of those engaged 
in her cause. Speaking of theories in general, he 
said, a little before his death, ‘I have sought, I 
have set up some myself, but I have not made 

s 4 


264 MEMOIRS OF 


them known, because I have ascertained that 
they were false, as are all those which have 
been published up to this day. I affirm still 
more; for I say, that, in the present state of sci- 
ence, it is impossible to discover any, and that is 
why I continue to observe, and why I openly 
proclaim my observations. This alone can lead 
an author to the discovery of that fact on which 
he can build a true and general theory... . This 
fact,’ added he, ‘is perhaps of little importance 
in itself; but, with regard to theory, it will be- 
come the principal fact, the keystone to the arch. 
Therefore it must be sought, science must march ; 
but we must take care that she does not march 
in a retrograde direction, as she has sometimes 
done, and as some naturalists lead her at present. 
We ought to labour, not with the object of sup- 
porting a theory,—because, then, the mind being 
pre-occupied, will only perceive that which fa- 
vours its own views, —but with the object of dis- 
covering the truth; because the truth will be 
deduced from true theories, and true philoso- 
phical principles ; the truth being, in itself alone, 
the whole of philosophy.” * 

It seems that both the French and the Ger- 
mans claim M. Cuvier as their countryman ; and 

* M. Laurillard. 


BARON CUVIER. 265 


it would be difficult to decide whether the place 
which gave him birth, or that which was the 
scene of his labours, has the best title to cal! him 
her own.* His family, as we see in the pre- 
vious pages of these memoirs, was originally 
Swiss ; and, being driven to Montbéliard in con- 
sequence of professing the reformed faith, set- 
tled there as a remote province of Germany, 
and where some of the members of it held im- 
portant charges. His uncle was a minister of 
the Lutheran religion, and his father an officer 
in a Swiss regiment then in the service of France. 
I am led to dwell on these two circumstances, 
from errors committed by several writers, who 
have stated M. Cuvier to have entered the 
church ; and also a mistake made by M. Decan- 
dolle, a very old and esteemed friend of M. 
Cuvier, and the learned botanist of Geneva. 
This gentleman asserts, in his funeral éloge of 
M. Cuvier, that the latter entered the army, 
which assertion is wholly without foundation ; 


* The year in which M. Cuvier was born was a remark- 
able one, for in it Napoleon Buonaparte came into the world, 
who made as great a revolution in the political face of Europe, 
as M. Cuvier did in that of science, though not equally lasting. 
The Duke of Wellington, Mr. Canning, M. de Chateaubriand, 
Sir Walter Scott, Sir James Mackintosh, alike drew their first 
breath in this year. 


206 MEMOIRS OF 


and it is very probable that both errors have 
arisen from some confusion between the father, 
the uncle, and the son. 

There is yet another erroneous report, which 
I am desirous of correcting; and that is, the 
late developement of M. Cuvier’s talents for 
natural history. So far is the fact contrary to 
this, that, even while at the preparatory school 
of Montbélard, his greatest happiness was to 
read Bufton, to copy the plates, and to colour 
them according to their descriptions. When 
arrived at Stuttgardt, his studies took a higher 
flight; and he chose that faculty which allowed 
him to pursue his favourite occupation. As age 
increased, his boyish pleasure became, as it were, 
a passion, and he incessantly pored over all the 
books he could find on this subject. He dis- 
sected the only things within his reach, such as 
insects and plants; he made an excellent collec- 
tion of the latter, and discovered several species, 
in the neighbourhood of Stuttgardt, which were 
not previously known to exist there. He kepta 
number of living insects in his room, constantly 
feeding them, and watching their habits. It was 
there that he made many of the drawings spoken 
of in Part IL., and which form several thick 
volumes. I have two of these, which show that 


BARON CUVIER. 267 


the hand of the master guided him even at 
this early age. Knowing the great interest he 
felt in such productions, in one of my visits to 
Paris, I took a collection of original drawings 
for his inspection. Every evening during my 
stay there, he asked for my book, and one morn- 
ing entered the breakfast-room with a huge 
quarto in his hands, and, putting it before me, 
said, ‘* Permit me to enter the company of 
your friends : choose any two of these pages, and 
I will cut them out for you. I amused myself 
with drawing these figures when I was a student 
at Stuttgardt ; and if I were to draw them now, 
I could not make them with greater accuracy.” 
This same facility for designing continued 
throughout life; and it is scarcely possible to do 
justice by words to his anatomical drawings, in 
which he had a manner peculiar to himself of 
expressing the cellular tissue. His delineations 
of quadrupeds were equally extraordinary ; and, 
when lecturing, he would turn to the black board 
behind him, with the chalk in his hand, and, 
speaking all the time, he would rapidly sketch 
the subject of his discourse, sometimes begin- 
ning even at the tail, proportioning every part 
with admirable precision, and preserving the 
character to such a degree, that even the species 


268 : MEMOIRS OF 


could be immediately pronounced. The taste 
for drawings of natural history extended to all 
branches of the art, and it was his delight to 
visit every collection or exhibition of the kind. 
During his last visit to England hewent to Hamp- 
ton Court, and it was with difficulty he could tear 
himself away from the cartoons of Raffaelle, in 
order to keep a dinner appointment. ‘The ad- 
miration he felt for this most wonderful of all 
painters amounted to a species of worship; and 
no one, whether an artist or not, ever compre- 
hended or delighted in the beauties of Raffaelle 
more than did M. Cuvier. His long stay in 
Italy had refined and confirmed his judgment ; 
and when he was accused of want of proper 
curiosity for not extending his route as far as 
Naples, during either of his journeys to Rome, 
he deemed it sufficient to reply, “ At Naples 
I should not have found the Vatican!” He was 
very sensible to the merits of our great Law- 
rence, to whom he was personally attached, and 
who had constantly sent him the engravings 
from his works; and also to the conception and 
genius of our Martin, whose engravings had 
always excited his attention in Paris, and whose 
gallery he visited when last in London. Woe, 
however, to the artist who committed a fault in 


BARON CUVIER. 269 


anatomy or perspective; his quick eye immediately 
fastened on it, even in the midst of the praises 
excited by colouring or expression. To view 
the exhibitions of the works of our celebrated 
portrait painter, which took place after his death, 
was one of the objects of M. Cuvier’s second 
journey to this country ; and he frequently passed 
hours in the British Gallery, where they had 
at that time been collected. He had person- 
ally known many of those represented by this 
life-giving painter ; he felt, as he contemplated 
them, as if he were again in their presence, and 
related a thousand anecdotes, which he was 
delighted to recall. 

There was yet another talent of M. Cuvier’s, 
which manifested itself in his earliest youth, and 
which, though trifling in extent, was a further 
proof of his facility for retaining a recollection 
of form. It was the power of cutting out, in 
pasteboard or paper, whatever object had excited 
his attention; and a remarkable proof, not only 
of his dexterity, but of his quick perception, oc- 
curred when he was about six years of age. A 
mountebank passed through the village, who 
played various slight-of-hand tricks, and was 
called in by M. Cuvier’s uncle to amuse the 
children assembled at his house. <A ‘ fontaine 


270 MEMOIRS OF ~ 


de Héron*,” which ran and stopped at his bid- 
ding, a poniard which he apparently plunged 
into his arm and drew out again, dripping 
with blood, amused and astonished the spec- 
tators of all ages who happened to be present: 
but George Cuvier examined every thing with 
deep attention, and evinced little or no surprise; 
for he explained the manner in which the foun- 
tain played, and the mechanism of the poniard, 
accompanying his explanations by cutting the 
whole out in paper. 

But I must beg my readers once more to go 
back to Stuttgardt, where M. Cuvier obtained 
honours which were conferred only on the chosen 
few, and those few much older than himself. 
His first examination at that university had some- 
thing remarkable in it, considering that he was 
then but fourteen. The committee deputed to as- 
sign him his place, reported of him as follows :— 

«The young Cuvier has shown, Ist, just no- 
tions of Christianity, well adapted to his years. 
2dly, A good knowledge of general history and 
geography. S3dly, Solid notions of logic, arith- 
metic, and geometry. 4thly, Considerable skill 


* So called by the French, because it was invented by 
Hero, of Alexandria, who lived 120 years before Christ. 
Its English name, | believe, is “a fountain of circulation.” 


BARON CUVIER. QT 


in making Latin themes and verses, and in read- 
ing the New Testament in Greek.” At the 
moment of entering the academy, he was igno- 
rant of German ; but, as we have already seen, 
in less than a year, he secured the prize for 
that tongue. He always retained the faculty 
of speaking this language, to which he added 
Italian, in both of which he conversed fluently. 
He read several others, and, among them, En- 
glish ; his mability to speak which, I have often 
heard him regret. He was accused of knowing 
more of it than he chose toown; but there could 
be no motive for concealing what would have 
afforded him pleasure to make use of; besides 
which, he has often tried to put little sentences 
together in jest, and ask if they were right. If 
a reply was given in the aflirmative, he would 
threaten to begin in earnest one day, and proba- 
bly would have performed his intention, had not 
his daughters always acted as able interpreters 
in this respect. His knowledge of the dead lan- 
guages was not only a source of exquisite enjoy- 
ment to him, but was absolutely necessary to his 
profound researches. He seldom alluded to 
Greek or Latin authors in conversation, but 
there was a classical precision and elegance of 
expression, even in his ordinary discourse, which 
can scarcely be acquired by other means than the 


B72 MEMOIRS OF 


study of such writers. The minor accomplish- 
ments which he added to these mental stores are 
almost surprising, because each must have taken 
time to acquire. Among them was a thorough 
knowledge of heraldry, which, it is well known, 
contains a large portion of detail. 

There cannot be a stronger proof of the pre- 
cocious perfection of M. Cuvier’s universal ta- 
lents than the occurrences of that part of his 
life which was spent in Normandy. One or two 
of these (in addition to those already mentioned) 
I have extracted from the eloquent éloge de- 
livered by Dr. Pariset at the late meeting of 
the Institute.* <A citizen of Caen, who was 
a great amateur of natural history, possessed 
a magnificent collection of the fishes of the 
Mediterranean: the instant M. Cuvier heard 
of it, he flew to inspect the treasures, and, 
after several visits, he, by means of his pencil, 
that precious instrument of observation and me- 
mory, became in his turn the possessor of the 
collection; for, in natural history, the faithful 
representation of an object is the object itself: 
Nearly six years passed in this manner, terribly, 


* Dr. Pariset is one of the physicians to the Hospital of 
La Salpétriére, and, as Member of the Academy of Medicine, 
composed and read the above éloge, which was heard with 
the most reverential attention, and followed by enthusiastic 
applause. 


BARON COVIER. 273 


indeed, to France and Europe, but calmly and 
profitably to M. Cuvier. Nevertheless, the Re- 
volution insinuated its jealousies and suspicions 
even as far as his abode; and, the impulse having 
been given from the capital, one of those so- 
cieties, or unions, was about to be formed at Fé- 
camp, which armed the people against them- 
selves, and were attended with the most injurious 
consequences. M. Cuvier saw the danger, and 
represented to the owner of Fiquainville, and 
the neighbouring landholders, that it was to 
their interest to constitute the society them- 
selves. ‘This wise counsel was adopted; the 
society was formed; M. Cuvier was appointed 
secretary; and, instead of discussing sanguinary 
politics at its meetings, it devoted itself solely 
‘to agriculture.’ I have already related how 
M. Tessier happened to have taken refuge in 
the neighbourhood, and how he was detected 
and accosted by M. Cuvier; I have now to add, 
from M. Pariset’s éloge, that, after this greeting, 
they became the greatest friends; ‘ and that 
the perfect confidence which existed between 
them, in a measure, rendered them necessary to 
each other.’ M. Tessier daily discovered in his 
young friend new talents and perfections, and 
was astonished at the sight of his numerous pro- 
T 


QT: MEMOIRS OF 


ductions. On the 11th of February he wrote 
as follows to M. de Jussieu: —* At the sight of 
this young man I felt the same delight as the 
philosopher who, when cast upon an unknown 
shore, there saw tracings of geometrical figures. 
M. Cuvier is a violet which has hidden itself 
under the grass; he has great acquirements, he 
makes plates for your work, and I have urged 
him to give us lectures this year on botany. He 
has promised to do so, and I congratulate my 
pupils at the Hospital on his compliance. I 
question if you could find a better comparative 
anatomist, and he is a pearl worth your picking 
up. I assisted in drawing M. Délambre from 
his retreat, and I beg you to help me in taking 
M. Cuvier from his, for he is made for science 
and the world.” Such were the words of M. 
Tessier; and I may be pardoned for introducing 
them here, as they do more honour to our own 
species than the history of great battles and 
conquests.” 

M. Cuvier’s grave and frequently absent air 
has been repeatedly mistaken for an excess of 
reserve and coldness, and thus it was often im- 
possible for a mere casual observer to form a 
correct judgment of the high degree of bene- 
volence which he evinced to all who required 


BARON CUVIER. Q75 


his assistance, the indulgence with which he 
viewed the follies of youth, and, in fact, the 
errors of all mankind. I may go still farther, 
and say the mirth which, before the death of 
his daughter, was to be traced in the laugh 
which seemed to proceed from the very heart. 
No one enjoyed a ludicrous circumstance more 
than he did; no one was happier at the per- 
formance of a comedy; for, when I was living in 
Paris, a ridiculous afterpiece was frequently re- 
presented on the stage, called “«* Le Voyage a 
Dieppe,’ 
des Plantes were brought forward in the most 


’ 


in which the professors of the Jardin 


amusing way possible; and such was M. Cuvier’s 
uncontrollable risibility at its performance one 
evening, that the people in the pit several times 
called out to him to be quiet. 

The nerves of M. Cuvier were particularly 
irritable by nature, and frequently betrayed him 
into expressions of impatience, for which no one 
could be more sorry than himself, the causes of 
which were immediately forgotten; and the 
caresses and kindnesses which were afterwards 
bestowed, seldom seemed to him to speak suf- 
ficiently the strength of his feelings at his own 
imperfection. Any thing wrong at table, to be 
kept waiting, a trifling act of disobedience, 

7 2 


~ 


276 MEMOIRS OF 


roused him into demonstrations of anger wnich 
were occasionally more violent than necessary, 
but which it would have been impossible to 
trace to any selfish feeling ; even the loss of his 
own time was the loss of that which was the pro- 
perty of others; and, where his mere personal 
inconvenience was concerned, he was seldom 
known to give way to these impetuous expres- 
sions. It was almost amusing to see the perfect 
coolness with which the servants, more especially 
about his person, occasionally obeyed his orders, 
or replied to his injunctions without exciting 
a hasty word from him. His impatience, how- 
ever, was not confined to little annoyances ;_ but 
if he expected any thing, or any body, he 
scarcely rested till the arrival took place. If he 
had work men employed for him, the alteration 
was done in his imagination as soon as com- 
manded; and thus in advance himself; he un- 
ceasingly inspected their labours, and hastened 
them in their tasks. He would walk along the 
scene of operation, exclaiming every instant, 
«« Dépéchez vous, donc,” (make haste, then, ) and 
impeding all celerity by the rapidity of his orders. 
Perhaps, at the moment of pasting the paper on 
the walls, he brought in a pile of engravings to 
be put on afterwards, and which, in fact, were 


BARON CUVIER. OT 


often nailed up before the paste was dry, But 
although he was perfectly happy while thus 
engaged, he could not be alone, and, fetching 
his daughter-in-law back as often as she escaped 
from him, he associated her in all his contri- 
vances. On unpacking a portrait of this ever 
ready companion by Sir Thomas Lawrence, and 
sent over from England, he happened to be pre- 
sent ; and, in order to prevent him from seeing it 
by degrees, and so destroying the effect, she was 
obliged to hold her hands over his eyes, or he 
could not have resisted the desire to look. When 
he sent a commission to this country, every suc- 
ceeding letter brought an enquiry as to its 
execution, or a recommendation to use zealous 
despatch. I must add, that the thanks were as 
often repeated as the injunctions. It is, perhaps, 
a curious inconsistency, that a man who sub- 
mitted to such tedious and minute labour as he 
had all his life undergone, should be thus impa- 
tient when the activity of others was in question ; 
but it must be recollected, that he found very 
few who would work as he did; and that, while 
so working, his mind was absorbed by every step 
which was taken to ensure the wished-for result, 
and had no time to bound over the space between 
thought and execution. ‘ M. Cuvier possessed 


phy 


278 MEMOIRS OF 


in the highest degree, that patience which has 
been said to be always necessary for the discovery 
of some important truth, and which, according 
to Buffon, and according to M. Cuvier himself, 
constitutes the genius of a well-ordered mind. 
No labour, however minute, irritated him when 
he believed it to be requisite for the attainment 
of his object ; and this patience was really a virtue 
in that man, whose blood would boil at a false 
reasoning, or a sophism,—who could not listen to 
a few pages of a book that taught nothing, or a 
work that bore the marks of prejudice or passion, 
without feeling the greatest irritation; and so 
far did he carry his patient investigation, that he 
even examined the least details of those element- 
ary books which were to further instruction, and 
directed the construction of several of the geo- 
graphical maps of M. Selves, himself colouring 
the models.” * 

In person M. Cuvier was moderately tall, and 
in youth slight; but the sedentary nature of his 
life had induced corpulence in his later years, and 
his extreme near-sightedness brought on a slight 
stoop in the shoulders. His hair had been light 
in colour, and to the last flowed in the most 
picturesque curls, over one of the finest heads 


* Laurillard. 


BARON CUVIER. 279 


that ever was seen. The immense portion of 
brain in that head was remarked by Messrs. Gall 
and Spurzheim, as beyond all that they had ever 
beheld; an opinion which was confirmed after 
death. His features were remarkably regular 
and handsome, the nose aquiline, the mouth full 
of benevolence, the forehead most ample ; but it 
is impossible for any description to do justice to 
his eyes. ‘They at once combined intellect, viva- 
city, archness, and sweetness; and long before 
we lost him, I used to watch their elevated ex- 
pression with a sort of fearfulness, for it did not 
belong to this world. ‘There are many portraits 
published of M. Cuvier, formed of various mate- 
rials; but, with the exception of the medallion 
of M. Bovy, the copper medal, the plaster bust, 
the lithographic print by M. le Meunier, and the 
oil painting by Mr. Pickersgill, they scarcely 
convey any just idea of M. Cuvier’s expression : 
in fact, some of the prints are positive cari- 
catures. The bronze bust, modelled, and so 
handsomely presented to the Royal Society of 
London, by the celebrated sculptor, M. David, 
was made from a cast taken after death. All 
praise must be given to this bust as a work of 
art; but it is very evident that M. David’s 
feelings, as an artist, were most susceptible to 
gies 


280 MEMOIRS OF 


the classic beauties of M. Cuvier’s head and fea- 
tures (which, in fact, were remarkable), and, by 
dwelling with too much stress on these, he has 
lost sight of the benignity of the countenance.* 
The bronze bas relief, taken from the bust, of 
course possesses the same faults. Mr. Pickers- 
gill’s portrait is decidedly the most perfect of 
all: it is there possible to form a correct notion 
of the sharply defined features; the eyes that so 
well spoke the serious and great thoughts within, 
that rose above this world; the mouth, and the 
carriage of the head. ‘To use Mr. Pickersgill’s 
own words, he tried ‘* to catch the essence of 
the man,” and his skill has proved adequate to 
the great task before him.t 


* Since writing the above, I have seen the bust worked in 
French marble, after the same model, and given to Madame 
Cuvier by this generous and public-spirited artist. It is an 
improvement on that cast in bronze, and now stands on a pe- 
destal in the room, and on the very spot where the mortal 
remains of the great original were laid till they were removed 
for ever. 

t+ I cannot quit this subject entirely, without placing 
Mr. Pickersgill in a still more admirable light than in his pro- 
fession of artist. Feeling the value of the above-mentioned 
portrait, after she lost her noble husband, Madame Cuvier was 
naturally desirous of possessing a copy of it, from the hands 
which had so well known how to execute the first. I was re- 
quested to negotiate concerning the possibility of sacrifice of 
time, price, &c.; and the result was, that Mr. Pickersgill him- 
self made the wished-for copy, which was not inferior to the 


BARON CUVIER. 281 


That love of order which so prevailed in great 
things was, by M. Cuvier, carried even into the 
minutiz of life. His dissecting dress, it is true, 
was not of brilliant appearance, but it was 
adapted to the occasion ; in this he would fre- 
quently walk about early in the summer morn- 
ings, in the open air, or pace up and down the 
galleries of anatomy, but on all other occasions 
his toilette was adjusted with care; he himself 
designed the patterns for the embroidery of his 
Court and Institute coats, invented all the cos- 
tumes of the University, and drew the model 
for the uniform of the council, which drawing 
accompanied the decree by which it was esta- 


previous likeness, and presented it to the Baroness, saying, 
that his services could be no affair of money between him 
and the widow of the great Cuvier. The sad delight with 
which the survivors accepted this generous gift was the 
highest reward which the donor could receive, and is best 
pourtrayed by their own expressions to me; —“ C’est lui; c’est 
sa pensée, noble, pure, élevée, et souvent mélancolique, quoi- 
que toujours bienveillante et calme, comme la vraie bonté. 
C’est son ame dans ses yeux. C’est le grand homme, pas- 
sant sur la terre, et sachant qu'il y a quelque chose au-dela.” 
(“It is he; it is his noble, pure, elevated mind, often melan- 
choly, though always benevolent and calm, like real goodness. 
It is his soul in his eyes. It is the great man passing over 
this earth, and knowing there is something beyond.”) I may 
be forgiven for relating these anecdotes of the private feelings 
of the living, when it is considered how refreshing and useful it 
is to meet with such actions in this world of self-interest. 


982 MEMOIRS OF 


blished. I was very anxious to see him in his 
University robes, and having mentioned my wish, 
he came into the room where I was sitting, 
when decked in all the paraphernalia for a grand 
meeting. The long, flowing gown of rich, violet- 
coloured velvet, bordered with ermine, added to 
his height, and concealed the corpulence of his 
figure ; the cap, of the same materials, could not 
confine his curls; and, brilliant with his ribands 
and his orders, the outward appearance fully 
accorded with the internal man. His refined 
taste was often manifested in the buildings of 
the Jardin, made according to his direction, and 
was extended to the minutest details. ‘The me- 
nagerie for the wild beasts is classically beauti- 
ful, and was built entirely after his designs and 
under his inspection, while he held the annual of- 
fice of director. ‘The new wing of the Museum, 
which joins the Corps de Garde, was also added 
by his orders during one of these directorships. 
The manners of M. Cuvier, by their dignity, 
resembled the ancient deportment of French 
people, divested of its extreme ceremony ; for, 
accustomed to mingle with the highest of all 
classes and countries, and naturally desirous of 
paying a just tribute of respect and good-will to 
every body, he was likely to be generally po- 
lished and courteous, though in company, at the 


BARON CUVIER. 283 


houses of others, sometimes stately. ‘That state- 
liness was often deemed stiffness; and it must 
not be denied that real stiffness was assumed on 
some rare but necessary occasions. Frequently, 
however, I believe that it arose from timidity; 
for it wore off the instant he saw any one in- 
clined to lay aside the restraint which his pre- 
sence very often, and most needlessly, imposed. 
On the contrary, when he saw people afraid of 
him, he fancied he must have caused it by some- 
thing on his side; and thus a counter-reserve was 
produced, that seldom ceased with either party. 
To the young however, he was universally en- 
couraging, and they could not more entirely win 
his heart than by talking, in his presence, in 
their naturally open manner. Towards females 
he was particularly kind and attentive, distin- 
guishing all whom he thought worthy of more 
than the general respect he paid to the sex, 
even appealing to them on various occasions, de- 
lighting in their sensible remarks, and listening 
to their anecdotes with the greatest interest. His 
attentions to his guests, either when visitors for 
a few hours or a few weeks, were surprisingly 
thoughtful; if he could, he would have pre- 
vented their wishes, enquiring if they had all 
they required in their own rooms, summoning 


284 MEMOIRS OF 


them to the drawing-room, if, by chance, any 
one arrived whom he thought they would like to 
see, expressly inviting those to his house who 
had excited either their curiosity or interest, and 
devising every thing he could think of for their 
enjoyment or entertainment. At the time when 
Paris was half mad about the Greeks, he sud- 
denly re-appeared, after he had taken leave of 
us, with a beautiful Greek boy, the son of Colo- 
cotroni, whom he had accidentally met as he 
quitted the Jardin; but, fancying that we should 
like to be acquainted with this intelligent, ani- 
mated child, he took the trouble of coming back 
on purpose to present him to us. He frequently 
walked, or rode home in a cabriolet, in order to 
lend his carriage to the ladies of his house; if a 
wish was expressed to see a scarce book that his 
own immense library did not contain, he would 
bring it home from the Institute for inspection ; 
and, while carrying on the most important duties 
of the savant and the legislator, he yet found 
time to think of others and their trifling desires. 
Now and then, when the summer lessened some 
of his heavy public duties, he would take a walk 
with us; and no schoolboy, with permission to 
go out of bounds, could set off with more de- 
light than we all did. Sometimes he would con- 


BARON CUVIER. 2985 


fine himself to the Jardin; and in one of these 
more limited excursions he was attracted by the 
brilliant appearance of the Coreopsis tinctoria, 
which was then new in France, and which he saw 
for the first time during this ramble. He in vain 
enquired the name of us, and we continued our 
walk. On returning to the house, he quitted us 
at the door, and, in about half an hour, he re- 
appeared, and, stopping, for an instant, as he de- 
scended to his carriage, he said, ‘ Ladies, I 
have been to M. Deleuze (a learned botanist of 
the Jardin), and ascertained the name of the 


> 


flower:’’ he then gave it us, genus, species, 
country, and the reason for its appellation, and, 
making his bow, retired, perfectly happy at the 
knowledge he had acquired and imparted. As 
in this trifling circumstance, so was it in all 
things; he never hesitated saying when he did 
not know; he never rested till he did know, if 
the means of acquiring the information were 
within his reach; and, once known, he was most 
willing to impart it to those who wished to learn. 
The facility with which he placed knowledge in 
the reach of others was one of the most precious 
gifts with which Heaven had endowed him; for 
half the value of a brilliant or an useful idea is 
lost, unless we have the power of communicating 


286 MEMOIRS OF 


it as it appears to ourselves. Sometimes he 
would enliven the evening by proposing a party 
to eat ices at one of the famous cafés; and, on 
one occasion, he insisted on showing me, as an 
Englishwoman, how happy the lower classes of 
French are on their féte days; and, passing the 
barrier close to the Jardin des Plantes, he led 
us among the guinguettes * outside, where the 
people were dancing and singing, and making 
merry. He delighted in their mirth, stopped to 
witness it, and, several times turning round to 
me, asked me if the English knew any thing of 
such light-hearted enjoyment. It is said of some 
celebrated person, that no one could take shelter 
from the rain with him, under a shed, for a 
quarter of an hour, without deriving some in- 
formation from his discourse. ‘This observation 
may be equally applied to M. Cuvier; for after 
these little excursions, intended solely for diver- 
sion, it was frequently a matter of surprise to 
find that something had been learned, either by 
way of history, character, language, or moral 


* Many of these guinguettes consist of nothing but a mere 
shed, witli a little space in front, where the guests sit and 
drink weak wine (vin ordinaire), sugar and water, lemonade, 
&c., dance, sing, and play at dominos. They are generally 
placed outside the barriers to avoid the duty paid on pro- 
visions of every kind as they enter Paris. 


BARON CUVIER. 287 


conduct ; so elevated, yet so fascinating, was the 
tone of his unrestrained conversation. ; 
M. Cuvier’s hours of audience generally took 
place before and after breakfast, and he was ac- 
cessible to every body; for he said, « when 
people lived at such a distance as the Jardin des 
Plantes, they had no right to send any one away 
who came so far to request their advice or as- 
sistance.” I have seen the young and the old, 
the widow and the orphan, the poor and the 
rich, throng his door, all in the security of being 
well received. I met an unhappy woman one 
morning, crying as she came down stairs; and 
on asking her what was the matter, she replied, 
«It is not M. Cuvier who has made me cry; 
but it is because even he cannot help me that I 
am in such trouble ;” evidently thinking that, if 
he could not serve her, she had no hope. ‘The 
meal-times were always anticipated by his family 
and friends with the greatest pleasure ; for then 
it was that questions were asked, and _ histories 
related on all sides. As if knowing the few op- 
portunities there were of conversing with him, 
he suffered himself to be constantly interrupted, 
and never hesitated giving the desired inform- 
ation concerning public or private circum- 
stances; and frequently, when the former were 


288 MEMOIRS OF 


not immediately comprehended, he would set 
forth the subject in all its bearings, till it was 
perfectly understood. ‘The breakfast took place 
generally at ten; but M. Cuvier had almost 
always risen at seven, or even before that time, 
had prepared his papers for the day, had ar- 
ranged the occupations of his assistants, and had 
received most of his visitors. Some intimate 
friends frequently called on him at this hour, 
because they were sure to find him at home. 
His usual practice was to read the newspapers as 
he ate his breakfast, or look over the books for 
the use of the primary schools, sent for his in- 
spection. Still, if one of the family were missing, 
he would enquire for the absent person with the 
utmost solicitude ; and even if the conversation 
were unusually animated, he insisted upon know- 
ing the whole, though he seldom raised his eyes 
from the paper. After breakfast was finished, 
he dressed, and then came the routine of his 
numerous occupations ; and when it was his turn 
to be Director of the Jardin, before going to the 
Council, &c., he would take his way, amid 
the trees, to the Museum of Natural History, 
followed by secretaries, aide-naturalists, students, 
&c., bearing the treasures which had just been 
finished in the stuffing laboratories, and which 


BARON CUVIER. 289 


were arranged in their respective cases under 
his superintendence. His carriage was gene- 
rally punctual to the moment appointed, and no 
one was allowed to keep him waiting; and, in 
fact, no one would do so, if possible to avoid it, 
for it vexed him exceedingly ; though I used to 
think sometimes that I saw a faint smile on his 
countenance, when we flew down stairs, our 
gloves in our hands, and our shawls streaming 
after us. The instant he had given his orders, 
he would thrust himself into a corner, and re- 
sume his reading or writing, suffering us to talk 
as much as we pleased. Many of his most bril- 
liant memoirs were finished as he thus rode 
through the streets of Paris; and he had a lamp 
fixed to the back of his carriage, that he might 
read on his return home at night from his visits ; 
but he found it so distressing to his eyes, that 
he could not long make use of it. All others, 
however, were delighted at the disappointment, 
because he was by it cheated into a few more 
moments of repose. 

Privileged as Mr. Bowdich and myself were 
to inspect the vast treasures in his collections, 
and in his library, at our leisure, we yet found it 
much more agreeable to take the books home 
with us; frequently we required the very vo- 

U 


290 MEMOIRS OF 


lume to which he had been referring before his 
departure, and which was generally left open 
upon his table, to be again used on his return ; 
for he had the happy faculty of resuming his 
subject at any moment, in any place, and at any 
part, even in the middle of a sentence. Wait- 
ing, then, till his carriage was driven from the 
door, bearing him away for several hours to his 
administrative duties, we went up to his room, 
took possession of the book, and enquiring the 
hour of his return, fled back with it five minutes 
before it was wanted. ‘To be sure, in conse- 
quence of our having been a little too late on 
one or two occasions, —a circumstance which he 
bore with surprising good humour, — we used 
occasionally to see some of his household arrive 
at our hotel, in breathless haste, to enquire fora 
volume which had long been missing. Generally 
speaking, we were innocent of the misdemeanor ; 
but such was his indulgent goodness to us, that 
he not only facilitated every desire, every endea- 
vour to obtain improvement, but even allowed 
us to publish, for the first time, some of his own 
drawings of Mollusca. He had no idea of exclu- 
sion towards any one who he thought would 
make a proper use of the materials he could fur- 


nish; so that we had only to ask, and orders were 


BARON CUVIER. 201 


given to the keepers of the galleries to take out 
of the cases any object which was needed for 
our closer examination.* 

Before dinner, M. Cuvier would occasionally 
give a few minutes to his family, by joining the 
assembled party in Mme. Cuvier’s room. On the 
sound, ** Madame est servie,’’ he would offer his 
arm to his wife, and leading her to her seat, all 
gathered round them both at this once happy 
table. M. Frederic Cuvier, his son, and very 
often one or two intimate friends who came by 
chance, would increase the circle, and the most 


* Though perhaps somewhat foreign to my subject, I can- 
not forbear making use of the first opportunity afforded me 
of expressing my gratitude to many connected with this 
vast and magnificent establishment. M. Desfontaines, M. de 
Jussieu, M. Brongniart, M. Geoffroy St. Hilaire, M. Frede- 
ric Cuvier, M. Chevreuil, M. Valenciennes, M. Deleuze, and 
M. Laurillard, thank God! still live to receive this public tes- 
timony of my sense of their kindness. M. Haiiy, M. Latreille, 
M. Thouin, M. Royer, M. Dufresne, W. Vanspaendonck, 
M. Lucas, have been called to another world, where human 
feelings are of no avail. Our pass-word for every thing was, 
“de la Maison Cuvier ;” and night and day we wandered 
about this little world as if we had been among its permanent 
inhabitants. Great have been the changes since then; and 
now the master spirit of this beautiful abode is no more, I 
shall never look on it again, and fancy that it has retained its 
perfection. During my late visit, not even the subordinate 
employés whom I had known in former times, but, after their 
respectful greeting, lamented the death of their great patron, 
in words that betokened the sincerest grief. 


Wie 


2902 MEMOIRS OF 


delightful conversation would ensue. On pro- 
ceeding to the drawing-room, M. Cuvier would 
occasionally gratify those present by an hour’s 
stay among them before he retired to his occu- 
pations, or paid his visits. Occasionally he would 
bring forth some old book he had picked up at a 
stall on one of the Quais, and boasting of his 
bargain, read some passages ; or, bidding some 
one read to him, he compared different edi- 
tions. At a more recent period, if he had any 
of M. Champollion’s letters from Egypt, he 
would station us at different tables, with volumes 
of the great work on Egypt, and verify the de- 
scriptions of the antiquary step by step. He 
never was weary of research ; though, it must be 
owned, we occasionally wished for the sound of 
the carriage wheels, to interrupt our employment. 
He never suffered people to be idle in his house ; 
and no sooner did friends station themselves 
among the family for a time, but he would come 
into their rooms with folios and paper in his 
hand, and set them to trace plates for him; and 
seldom forgot, on his return home from his duties 
abroad, to enquire how much had been done. To 
be sure, it was a pleasure to work for him, he 
was so grateful for the service, and so happy 
when the task was properly completed. His 


BARON CUVIER. 2903 


thirst for knowledge took an unbounded range, 
and the inventions and enterprises of other 
countries were as interesting to him as those of 
his own. Every letter to me, at the time that 
the accidents happened to the tunnel under the 
Thames, contained enquiries concerning it: the 
steam carriages, railroads, suspension bridges, 
and public institutions, were all subjects of  cor- 
respondence: he read, or made others read to 
him, all the attempts that had previously taken 
place to perfect the same undertaking ; and when 
a person from the country in which the scheme 
was going forward came to see him, he was pre- 
pared to converse with the stranger as one deeply 
learned in the matter. He was one day talking 
to a gentleman high in office at one of our 
national establishments; and after mentioning the 
expenses of the Museum, &c. at the Jardin des 
Plantes, he to the great surprise of his compa- 
nion, stated to a fraction the former, and actual 
costs of the British Museum. He could not 
bear to be inactive for an instant ; and once, while 
sitting for a portrait, which was to face the 
quarto edition of his ‘ Discours sur les Revolu- 
tions du Globe,” Mlle. Duvaucel read to him 
the « Fortunes of Nigel.” He had a map of 
London at his elbow, which the artist allowed 
u 3 


294, MEMOIRS OF 


him occasionally to consult; and the Latin of 
King James often excited a smile, which was a 
desirable expression for the painter; but unhap- 
pily the engraver was not a faithful copyist, and 
this published portrait is anything but a resem- 
blance. 

A change of occupation was a relaxation to 
M. Cuvier; perhaps the greatest of all was con- 
versation; but there was yet a third, which was 
to throw himself on a sofa, hide his eyes from 
the light, and listen to the readings of his wife 
and daughters, and, occasionally, that of M. 
Laurillard. By these nightly readings, for they 
only took place when he could not work any 
longer, he became acquainted with the literature 
of the whole civilised world; and no one was 
better able to appreciate it, for he looked on it 
as a picture of the human mind, and judged by 
it of the state of civilisation in the country 
where the various works were published. He 
frequently thus renewed his acquaintance with 
books read long before, in order to mark the 
changes which had taken place in the lapse of 
years ; and the number of volumes perused in 
this way was immense, though the reading 
seldom or never lasted more than two hours. 
There was yet another advantage which attended 


BARON CUVIER. 295 


this manner of closing the day by such a ra- 
tional amusement: it served to quiet his mind, 
which had often been previously excited; and 
ensured him that undisturbed repose, which 
fitted him for succeeding labours, and which his 
appearance the next morning generally indicated 
that he had enjoyed. Could that man’s slum- 
bers be otherwise than sweet, who had passed 
every moment in the fulfilment of the most im- 
portant duties of life? The services thus ren- 
dered to M. Cuvier were often returned by him 
in kind; for if any member of his family was ill, 
he would take his books and his newspapers to 
the bed-side, and read aloud by the hour to. 
gether. He never slept except at night; and I 
never heard of any one surprising him in such a 
state of inaction at any hour in the day, in his 
house or carriage, whatever might have been the 
fatigue he had undergone. 

No one was ever more sensible to kindness 
than M. Cuvier, and the slightest services always 
received acknowledgments beyond their value ; 
it is not surprising, then, that in the same cha- 
racter there should be an equal sensibility to in- 
eratitude. To find any one thus return the 
affectionate cares he had bestowed, was a real 
affliction; and as an instance, among several 

U 4 


206 MEMOIRS OF 


others, I recollect that, during one of my visits 
to his house, he appeared most unusually sad, 
and all the efforts to amuse him were repaid by 
a mournful smile. All his family were aware 
that no calamity could have produced this, and 
guessed it was some trouble connected with 
others, into which they had, perhaps, no right to 
enquire; and they were not wrong in their con- 
jectures. Walking home one evening quietly 
with his daughter-in-law, in reply to her remarks 
upon his dejection, he confessed that a favourite 
friend and pupil had, from motives of self-in- 
terest, publicly sided with his enemies, and it 
was an affliction to which he could not easily 
reconcile himself: 

The benevolence of M. Cuvier was evinced 
in every form by which it could be serviceable 
to others; and students themselves have told me, 
that he has found them out in their retreats, 
where advice, protection, and pecuniary assist- 
ance were all freely bestowed. Frequently did 
his friends tax him with his generosity, as a sort 
of imprudence; but his reply would be,—* Do 
not scold me, I will not buy so many books this 
year.” Many anecdotes have been told me of 
his purse being made a resource, not only for the 
advantage of science, but for those who had fled 


BARON CUVIER. 207 


to France to avoid ruin in their own country ; 
but even my anxiety to make known all M. Cu- 
vier’s good qualities ought not to interfere with 
the sacredness of private misfortune. In his en- 
deavours to do good, he was always most ably 
seconded by the females of his family, whose 
active benevolence has called upon them many a 
blessing from the hearts they have cheered by 
their kindness and bounty. 

A very remarkable and a very prominent 
feature in M. Cuvier’s character, was a decided 
aversion to ridicule or severity when speaking 
of others: he not only wholly abstained from 
satire himself, but wholly discouraged it in those 
around him, whoever they might be; and was 
never for one instant cheated into a toleration of 
it, however brilliant the wit, or however droll 
the light in which it was placed; and the only 
sharpness of expression which he allowed to him- 
self, was a rebuke to those who indulged in sar- 
casm. On hearing me repeat some malicious 
observations made by a person celebrated for 
his wit and talent — not being aware of the hid- 
den meaning of the words I quoted, and having 
been very much amused with the conversation— 
M. Cuvier instantly assumed a gravity and se- 
riousness which almost alarmed me, and then 


208 MEMOIRS OF 


solemnly bade me beware of the false colouring 
which I was but too apt to receive from the per- 
son in question ; but fearing I should feel hurt, 
he instantly resumed his kindness of manner, 
and lamented that the real goodness of heart, 
the great abilities, and power of divesting him- 
self of partiality, in my friend, should so often 
be obscured by the desire of saying what was 
clever or brilliant. 

Two other great traits — perhaps, I ought ra- 
ther to call them perfections — belonging to M. 
Cuvier, were, a total absence of all self-conceit 
and all resentment, both of which led to a re- 
markable uniformity and kindness in performing 
the duties of social life. That he had prefer- 
ences, and that these preferences were sometimes 
formed from the first interview, was true; and 
few people possessed of quick and ardent feel- 
ings can avoid these sudden impressions; but a 
contrary feeling led him merely to avoid inter- 
course, and did not, in any manner, extend to- 
wards the real welfare of the individual. Even 
the annoyances and disappointments he met with 
in his public career left not.one grain of bitter- 
ness in his soul; and he generally laid the fault 
to the ignorance, rather than the bad feeling, of 
the offenders ; saying of them, —‘‘ ‘They are more 


BARON CUVIER. 299 


to be pitied than blamed, for they know not 
what they do.” No one knew better how to 
soften a refusal; and, whatever might be his 
reasons, he took care that his opinions should 
not wound the feelings of any applicant for his 
favours. During one of my visits to his house, 
a gentleman, anxious to obtain the vote of M. 
Cuvier, as serviceable in procuring a public em- 
ployment, applied to me to intercede with my 
noble host. I felt that I had no right to do so, 
and mentioned my dilemma to Madame Cuvier, 
at the same time expressing my vexation, that such 
advantage should have been taken of my intimacy. 
This being repeated to M. Cuvier, he laughed 
at the scruples which had withheld me from con- 
versing with himself on the subject, and then 
desired me to reply to the applicant, that he 
never suffered the ladies of his family to interfere 
in such matters. When I left the room in 
order to do this, he called me back, as if a sud- 
den thought had struck him; and he added, — 
‘Tell your friend, if he wishes to see me, or 
ask my advice, I shall be happy to receive him 
at ———— ;”” evidently wishing to save me from 
the pain of an abrupt refusal to one whom I 
might esteem. 

The soirées of Baron Cuvier, which took 


300 MEMOIRS OF 


place every Saturday evening, and were some- 
times preceded by a party, were the most bril- 
liant and the most interesting in Paris. ‘There, 
passed in review, the learned, the talented, of 
every nation, of every age, and of each sex; all 
systems, all opinions, were received; the more 
numerous the circle, the more delighted was the 
master of the house to mingle in it, encouraging, 
amusing, welcoming every body, paying the ut- 
most respect to those really worthy of distinc- 
tion, drawing forth the young and bashful, and 
striving to make all appreciated according to their 
deserts. Nothing was banished from this circle 
but envy, jealousy, and scandal ; and this saloon 
might be compared to all Europe; and not till 
the guest had repassed the Rue de ‘Tournon, or 
‘“‘ the Seine, could he again fancy himself in the 
capricious capital of fashion, or time-serving 
show.” It was at once to see intellect in all its 
splendour ; and the stranger was astonished to 
find himself conversing, without restraint, without 
ceremony, with, or in presence of, the leading 
stars of Europe: princes, peers, diplomatists, 
savants, and the great host himself, now receiving 
these, and now the young students from the fifth 
pair of stairs in a neighbouring hotel, with equal 
urbanity. No matter to him in which way 


BARON CUVIER. SO 


they had directed their talents, what was their 
fortune, what was their family; and wholly 
free from national jealousy, he alike respected 
all that were worthy of admiration. He asked 
questions from a desire to gain information, 
as if he too were a student; he was delighted 
when he found a Scotchman who spoke Celtic ; 
he questioned all concerning their national in- 
stitutions and customs; he conversed with an 
English lawyer as if he had learned the profes- 
sion in England ; he knew the progress of public 
education in every quarter of the globe; he 
asked the traveller an infinity of things, well 
knowing to what part of the world he had 
directed his steps; and seeming to think that 
every one was born to afford instruction in some 
way or other, he elicited information from the 
humblest individual, who was frequently asto- 
nished at his interest in what appeared so fami- 
liar to himself. One thing used particularly to 
annoy him; which was, to find an Englishman 
who could not speak French. It gave him a re- 
straint of which many have complained, but 
which, on these occasions, solely arose from a feel- 
ing of awkwardness on his own part at not being 
able to converse with his foreign guest. No one 
ever rendered greater justice to the merit of his 
predecessors or contemporaries than M. Cuvier. 


302 MEMOIRS OF 


«¢ Half a century,” he said, “ had sufficed for a 
complete metamorphosis in science; and it is 
very probable that, in a similar space of time, we 
also shall have become antient to a future gener- 
ation. These motives ought never to suffer us 
to forget the respectful gratitude we owe to those 
who have preceded us, or to repulse, without 
examination, the ideas of youth ; which, if just, 
will prevail, whatever obstacles the present age 
may throw in their way.” This was a delightful 
manner of satisfying every body with himself’: the 
naturalist, from a remote province, or perhaps 
from a colony at the other end of the world, was 
no longer ashamed to think that he had not 
kept pace with the march of science in the capital, 
and had been poring over obsolete systems ; and 
the young student, fresh from the Universities, 
was not afraid to utter the objections, the falla- 
cies, or the inaccuracies, he fancied he had 
detected in his perusal of more recent authors. 
The repast which closed these evening enter- 
tainments was served in the dining-room, and, 
certainly, at the most delightful tea-table in the 
world. A select few only would stay, though 
M. Cuvier sometimes pressed into the service 
more than could be well accommodated ; and 


while the tea, the fruit, and refreshments of 


BARON CUVIER. 303 


various kinds were passing round, the convers- 
ation passed brilliantly with them. Descrip- 
tions of rarities were given, travellers wonders 
related, works of art criticised, and anecdotes 
told; when, reserving himself till the last, 
M. Cuvier would narrate something which 
crowned the whole; and all around were either 
struck with the complete change given to the 
train of thought, or were forced to join in a ge- 
neral shout of laughter. One evening, the va- 
rious signs placed over the shop doors in Paris 
were discussed ; their origin, their uses, were 
described ; and then came the things themselves. 
Of course, the most absurd were chosen; and, 
last of all, M. Cuvier said that he knew of a 
bootmaker who had caused a large and ferocious 
looking lion to be painted, in the act of tearing 
a boot to pieces with his teeth. This was put 
over his door, with the motto, «On peut me 
déchirer, mais jamais me découdre.”* I was in 
Paris when the celebrated picture, painted by 
Girodet, of Pygmalion and the Statue, was ex- 
hibiting at the Louvre. It caused a general 
sensation ; epigrams, impromptus, were made 
upon it without end; wreaths of flowers, and 


* «T may be torn, but never unsewn.” 


304 MEMOIRS OF 


crowns of bays, were hung upon it; so that it 
became an universal theme of conversation. 
Among other topics, it was one evening intro- 
duced at M. Cuvier’s; when M. Brongniart (the 
celebrated mineralogist, and director of the 
Royal Manufactory of China at Sévres), found 
fault with the flesh, which, he said, was too trans- 
parent; Baron de Humboldt (the learned Prus- 
sian traveller, who had lately been occupying 
himself with the chemical experiments of M. 
Gay-Lussac) objected to the general tone of 
the picture, which, he said, looked as if lighted 
up with modern gas; M. de Prony (one of the 
mathematical professors of the Ecole Polytech- 
nique, and also director of the Ecole des Ponts 
et Chaussées *) found fault with the plinth of 
the statue; and many gave their opinion in the 
like manner, each pointing out the faults that 
had struck him in this celebrated performance ; 
after which, M. Cuvier said that the thumb of 
Pygmalion was not properly drawn, and would 
require an additional joint to those given by na- 
ture, for it to appear in the position selected by 
the painter. Upon this, M. Biot (the mathe- 
matician and natural philosopher, who had _re- 


* A school resembling those for our civil engineers. 


BARON CUVIER. 305 


mained silent all the time, ) with mock solemnity 
summed up the whole, showing that every body 
had been more or less influenced by his peculiar 
vocation, or favourite pursuit; and concluded 
by saying, that he had no doubt but that every 
one of them, if they met Girodet the next day, 
would congratulate him on the perfect picture 
he had produced. On these evenings, one or 
two old, or particularly cherished friends would 
remain, talking after the rest had taken their de- 
parture; the hours passed, the clock would 
strike two before the little coterie thought of 
separating ; and even then M. Cuvier would say, 
«« Nay, gentlemen, do not be in such a hurry, it 
is quite early.” 

But I am now speaking of that period which 
preceded the death of the angel Clementine, so 
named after the dear and excellent mother, who 
had so well guided the earliest youth of her 
father. This pure creature was so good herself, 
that she never suspected evil in others, and was 
the light of every body’s existence in this hal- 
lowed circle. Her likeness to M. Cuvier was 
very striking; and though her eyes and hair 
were of a darker and a different shade, his every 
feature could be traced in her countenance, 
softened into feminine beauty. Her talents, her 

x 


806 MEMOIRS OF 


acquirements, her modest opinion of herself, her 
sound judgment, her active charity, her extreme 
piety, seemed to mark her as a being who could 
not long remain in this world of sin: she died 
of rapid consumption, which disease, though 
probably, long engendered in her constitution, 
which had already given one or two alarms, 
and probably made hidden progress, only mani- 
fested itself in its decided form six weeks before 
her death, amid the joyful preparations for her 
marriage. I‘rom this moment a mournful change 
took place in every arrangement; the broken- 
hearted mother was long, very long, unable to 
receive company, never again to mingle in it 
abroad ; and the unceasing and heroic efforts of 
her surviving daughter, and the affectionate 
cares of her husband, failed to rouse her. At 
length, occasional society at his own house be- 
came absolutely necessary to M. Cuvier, and the 
good wife consented to that which the good 
mother had refused ; the saloon remained closed 
in which she had seen the perfection of mortal 
loveliness breathe her last, and one of the libra- 
ries was opened to company. <A few old friends 
alone took immediate advantage of the per- 
mission to resume their visits; these, in time, 
brought others; but the change had come ; and 


BARON CUVIER. 307 


to those who had known Clementine, the soirées 
were stripped of one of their principal charms. 
In vain did M. Cuvier exert himself more than 
ever to welcome his guests; vain was the con- 
versation of his daughter-in-law, the most fas- 
cinating and brilliant that perhaps ever fell 
from the lips of woman; there sat the dejected 
mother, evidently making an effort over herself, 
her thoughts but too plainly in another sphere ; 
and the cause of her abstraction was whispered 
to strangers, with mournful looks and faltering 
tongues, by those who had beheld the being that 
had filled up the vacancy. With a violent effort, 
that closed saloon was once more opened to M. 
Cuvier’s friends; but it seemed to be only the 
preparation for the dying breath of the parent. 
That saloon is now always open, and the be- 
reaved widow and her devoted child always in- 
habit it, surrounded by the portraits of those 
they loved, clinging to the shadows and recol- 
lections of those that are gone, and living in the 
past, as the sole source of their melancholy en- 
joyment. 

After the death of his own daughter, M. Cu- 
vier became, if possible, more than ever attached 
to Mademoiselle Duvaucel. He had never made 
any difference in his conduct towards her and 

x 2 


308 MEMOIRS OF 


Mademoiselle Cuvier ; but the loss of the latter 
necessarily increased his reliance on her cares, 
and an anxiety was added to his affection, which 
manifested itself on all occasions. If she were 
ill, ten times in the course of the day would he 
mount up stairs to enquire at her bedside how 
she felt; if she coughed it seemed to give a 
pang to hisvery heart ; and, on her part, could her 
redoubled devotion towards him and her mother 
have filled up the void, their great loss would 
have been repaired. 

In 1830, as we have already seen, M. Cuvier 
paid his last visit to England, in which journey 
he was accompanied by Mlle. Duvaucel, who 
was willingly spared by her mother; for so 
fondly had these two beings watched over him, 
that he almost required the one or the other to 
be constantly with him. ‘This visit, happening 
as it did during the period of the last revolution, 
caused several reports in this country of their 
having fled to avoid danger. Hearing these 
surmises whispered about the hotel where they 
resided, M. Cuvier’s faithful valet ventured to 
repeat them, and asked his master if he were 
really ignorant of what was about to take place. 
« Do you think, Lombard,” replied M. Cuvier, 
mildly, “ that if I had been aware of that which 


BARON CUVIER. 309 


was about to happen, I should have left Madame 
Cuvier 2?” To those who knew the man, this 
answer was the best refutation to such supposi- 
tions. ‘The fact was, that the opportunities of 
absenting himself were rare, and feeling the 
necessity of coming to England for scientific 
purposes, more especially connected with his 
great work on fishes ; feeling, also, that a change 
was required by his constitution, so overcharged 
with mental labour, a mere apprehension was not 
likely to deter him from a project which had 
been delayed in its execution by a concurrence 
of untoward circumstances. Till M. Arago was 
elected in the place of Baron Fourrier, M. Cuvier 
could not quit his Secretaryship of the Academy 
of Sciences, the duties of which were doubled 
by the death of the latter ; and, further than that, 
it was requisite for him to read his admirable 
éloges on Sir Humphry Davy and M. Vauquelin, 
at the next general meeting of the Institute, and 
the postponement of that meeting threw another 
obstacle in the way of his immediate departure. 
I have already mentioned how deceived he was 
by the apparent tranquillity of Paris on the 
morning in which he left it, and how he was in- 
duced to proceed, even after he had determined 
to return from Calais. 

x 3 


810 MEMOIRS OF 


As I have here spoken of the meeting of the 
Academies on the 26th of July, I will stop to 
correct an error which has obtained much circu- 
Jation in England. <A personal quarrel is said to 
have taken place on that day, before the meeting, 
between M. Cuvier and M. Arago, in which the 
former was, with difficulty, prevented from draw- 
ing his sword. The only foundation for this 
report was, that M. Arago was obliged on this 
occasion to read an éloge on M. Fresnel, in 
which he had introduced a very violent paragraph 
against the Clermont-Tonnerre ministry, which 
paragraph might easily have been converted into 
a marked reference to the then existing govern- 
ment. M. Cuvier suggested to M. Arago that 
it would be more wise and prudent to leave out 
this part of the ¢loge, and at such a moment to 
avoid all causes of excitation. He gave his ad- 
vice in the most friendly manner; but, as M. 
Arago defended his paragraph with considerable 
warmth, M. Cuvier ceased to urge the matter. 
After this, the two secretaries appeared together 
before the public assembly, in the Hall of the 
Institute, and when the ceremony was concluded 
they dined together at M. Cuvier’s house, and 
passed the evening most amicably in each other’s 
society, without an idea that their mere differ- 


BARON CUVIER. ole 


ence of opinion would cross the Channel in the 
shape of a dreadful and almost murderous 
quarrel. 

The first intention of the travellers was to 
proceed by way of Dover; but, to please Ma- 
demoiselle Duvaucel, M. Cuvier ascended the 
river, and landed at the Tower stairs. Often 
did he congratulate himself, afterwards, on this 
compliance, which afforded him a view of the 
banks of the Thames, and the thousands of ves- 
sels which float on its surface, and of which no 
foreigner can possibly form an idea without ac- 
tual inspection. The object of one of M. Cu- 
vier’s first walks, after his arrival in London, 
was to see all the new caricatures contained in 
our shop windows; for he was a warm admirer of 
our performances in this art, and already pos- 
sessed a voluminous collection of the best which 
had appeared. ‘They afforded him more than 
mere amusement, for he considered them as cu- 
rious documents of the moral and political his- 
tory of certain periods; and often, 1 the midst 
of a serious conversation concerning the events 
of our own times, or those immediately pre- 
ceding us, he would cite various circumstances 
which had been stamped upon his recollection 
by the sight of an English caricature. During 

Xe 


312 MEMOIRS OF 


the fortnight he was in London, he was in inces- 
sant motion; but his anxiety respecting public 
events embittered all his enjoyment. An acci- 
dental circumstance delayed one of Madame 
Cuvier’s daily epistles, and he scarcely rested 
during these hours of expectation. One morn- 
ing, however, he flew into the room where Ma- 
demoiselle Duvaucel was with me, preparing to 
go out, entered without the slightest ceremony, 
embraced us both, and exclaimed, “ I have 
heard from my wife ;”’ then, reading the letter, 
he asked us if we were not as happy as himself; 
and taking an affectionate leave, as if his heart 
was quite full, he hastened to an appointment at 
the British Museum. He made a great many 
notes, and several drawings, while here, relative 
to his Fossil Remains and Ichthyology, but con- 
trived a few hours for visiting. ‘The enlightened 
and amiable Baron Seguier, the Consul-General 
of France, was then living, and the little party 
assembled several times at his house, where the 
events then taking place in their own country 
were constantly discussed, and where these able 
men predicted much of that which has since 
occurred. M. Cuvier went to Richmond also, 
of which he had so frequently heard in terms of 
praise: the day was rather stormy, but with in- 


BARON CUVIER. 313 


tervals of brightness, which added to the effect 
of the scene; and he observed, that he could 
not wonder, when he saw such a sky over such a 
country, at the perfection to which the English 
had carried their landscapes in water colours. 
He had intended revisiting Oxford, and seeing 
Cambridge, with the latter of which he was 
only acquainted by report; but the curtailed pe. 
riod of his stay did not permit him to enjoy these 
pleasures. Never, however, did any one profit 
more entirely by every hour than he did. Ac- 
customed to consider his insatiable desire to see 
and know every thing as a virtue, he left no 
means untried to satisfy his curiosity ; he-rose at 
six, visited on foot various parts of London, 
which he had never before seen, then returning 
to breakfast, he entered his carriage with his 
companion, and went to the Parks, the exhi- 
bitions, collections, &c. He was every where 
pleased with the reception he met with, though 
it was a matter of regret to the English that so 
few persons chanced to be in the metropolis to 
do him honour. One amusing mark of respect 
was a source of great entertainment, and for its 
drollery alone do I offer it to the reader. Dur- 
ing the absence of his valet, M. Cuvier sent for 
a barber to shave him. ‘The operation being 


314 MEMOIRS OF 


finished, he offered to pay the requisite sum; 
but the enlightened operator, who happened to 
be a Gascon, bowed, and positively refused the 
money, saying, with his comic accent, ‘ he was 
too much honoured, by having shaved the great- 
est man of the age, to accept any recompense.” 
Hardly suppressing a smile, M. Cuvier felt 
bound to give him the honour to its full extent, 
and engaged him to perform his function every 
day while he remained in London. It is scarcely 
necessary to add, that the barber, in a short 
time, felt it a still higher duty to consult pru- 
dence rather than empty honour, and pocketed 
the amount due for the exercise of his calling. 
Although occasionally subject to slight ail- 
ments, the health of M. Cuvier, generally speak- 
ing, was good, and his carriage was used by him 
more as a saving of time than a matter of neces- 
sity ; therefore the sudden summons he received 
to quit his earthly labours, was an event for 
which his friends and his country were not pre- 
pared. Never were his intellectual faculties more 
brilliant ; never was his great mind more fully pos- 
sessed of that clearness, that comprehensiveness, 
which so peculiarly marked it, than at the time 
of his seizure. His life of temperance and recti- 
tude, at the age of sixty-two, had preserved the 


BARON CUVIER. 315 


corporeal existence unimpaired, and also contri- 
buted to the perfection of his mental vigour ; for 
more than forty years he had been unremittingly 
labouring to perfect his great views in science 
and legislature; and concerning the former he 
was about to give to the world the results of his 
researches and reflections. ‘ His intention was 
to review all his works, and put them on a foot- 
ing with the last discoveries, and then to deduce 
from them all the consequences, all the general 
principles, which appeared to him to emanate 
from such an assemblage of facts, though he did 
not think it possible, in the present state of 
human knowledge, to establish a general theory. 
All his studies, all his meditations had convinced 
him of the philosophical principle, that organised 
beings exist for an end, for a special object ; but 
he did not admit any scientific theory, and with 
all his energy maintained that it was not yet 
possible for any to be formed.” * But even the 
entire publication of these facts, of these deduc- 
tions, was denied to us by the inscrutable ways of 
the Almighty ; perhaps we were not yet worthy 
of penetrating so deeply into the mysteries of 
creation as had been given to this one gigantic 


* Laurillard. 


316 MEMOIRS OF 


intellect, and I dare not call the death of M. 
Cuvier premature, when I think that by so doing 
I should question the decrees of that Providence 
to whom we owe the very existence of him 
whom we deplore, by whom that life was lent to 
us to increase our sense of his wisdom, and to 
enlighten us by its example. 

M. Cuvier had sought forgetfulness of the 
storms that were passing without the walls of 
his peaceful abode, in a greater devotion than 
ever to his home pursuits; that is, he gave up 
his evening visits, and the few relaxations he had 
permitted himself to enjoy. The cholera raged 
around him, and he saw those fall who were 
younger and apparently stronger than himself; 
those whom he loved, and those whose services 
were essential to the state. Public disturbances 
filled the streets of Paris, while pestilence stalked 
through the multitude in every direction. Se- 
cluding himself, then, entirely from society, ex- 
cept that of his family; after going through the 
daily routine of his public duties, he returned to 
his labours with an intenseness, which, added to 
his share of the pervading gloom, was calculated 
to injure the springs of life. No one, however, 
could foresee its effects on his constitution ; 
and he himself’ said, ‘ that he had never worked 


BARON CUVIER. 317 


with so much real enjoyment;”’ and he rapidly 
advanced, not only in the vast undertakings then 
begun, but in the preparations for others. On 
Tuesday, the 8th of May, he opened the third 
and concluding part of his course of lectures, at 
the College de France, on the History of Sci- 
ence, &c., by summing up all that had been pre- 
viously said. He forcibly inveighed against 
that heresy in natural history, which derives 
every thing in this vast universe from one iso- 
lated and systematic thought, and shackles the 
future of science with the fallacious progress of 
the moment *: he pointed out what remained 
for him to say respecting the earth and its 
changes, and announced his intention of unfold- 
ing his own manner of viewing the present state 
of creation ; a sublime task, which was to lead 
us, independent of narrow systems, back to that 
Supreme Intelligence, which rules, enlightens, 
and vivifies, which gives to every creature the 
especial conditions of its existence, to that in- 
telligence, in short, which reveals all, and 
which all reveals, which contains every thing, 


* Alluding to the theory of unity of composition. This 
and the following citations are taken from a description of 
this admirable lecture, as noted by a distinguished auditor, 
the Baron de H : 


318 MEMOIRS OF 


and which every thing contains. In the last 
part of this discourse, there was a calmness, a 
clearness of perception, an unaffected and unre- 
strained manifestation of the contemplative and 
religious observer, which greatly added to its 
force, and which involuntarily recalled that book 
which speaks of the creation of the earth and 
the human race. The similarity was avoided 
rather than sought; it was not to be found in 
the words, but the ideas; and at once flashed 
across the minds of his auditors, when the great 
professor declared, that each being contains in 
itself an infinite variety, an admirable arrange- 
ment for the purposes for which it is intended ; 
that each being is good, perfect, and capable of 
life, each according to its order and species, and 
in its individuality. In the whole of this lecture 
there was an omnipresence of the Omnipotent 
and Supreme Cause; the examination of the 
visible world seemed to touch upon the invisible ; 
the search into creation, necessarily invoked 
the presence of the Creator; it seemed as if the 
veil were to be torn from before us, and science 
was about to reveal eternal wisdom. Great then, 
was the effect produced by the concluding sen- 
tences, which seemed to bear a prophetic sense, 
and which were the last he ever addressed to his 


BARON CUVIER. 319 


audience. “ These,” said he, * will be the objects 
of our future investigations, if time, health, and 
strength, are given to me, to continue and to 


> "Those who were versed in 


finish them with you.’ 
human destiny, seemed to feel, that his sphere 
of action was even then placed out of this world, 
and that he had pronounced his farewell. So 
near the great and awful tribunal, what other 
words, what other thoughts than those contained 
in this lecture, could have so plainly shown 
the preparation already made for his journey 
thither? 

I am told that the profound emotion occa- 
sioned by this last discourse was universal, and 
that few left the hall without an undefined feel- 
ing of sadness, and sentiments of reverence, far 
beyond the power of expression. On the same 
day, M. Cuvier, as usual, attended a council of 
administration in the Jardin des Plantes, and 
bestowed his last cares on that immense esta- 
blishment, which owes so large a portion of its 
treasures to his constant and active solicitude, 
and to his extreme generosity. ‘ By turns pro- 
tected and protecting, M. Cuvier had there re- 
sisted the political vicissitudes which changed 
all but this sacred asylum of men and things. 
It would seem as if a special grace from Provi- 


320 MEMOIRS OF 


dence had suffered him to remain, during thirty- 
eight years of revolution, in the same place, and 
with the same occupations. The great mind, the 
pure intention, the devoted and disinterested 
heart, alone are suffered to effect such mira- 
cles.” 

In the evening of Tuesday, M. Cuvier felt 
some pain and numbness in his right arm, which 
was supposed to proceed from rheumatism. On 
Wednesday, the 9th, he presided over the Com- 
mittee of the Interior with his wonted activity. 
At dinner that day, he felt some difficulty in 
swallowing, and the numbness of his arm in- 
creased. Never can the look and the enquiry 
he directed to his nephew, when he found that 
bread would not pass down his throat, be for- 
gotten; nor the self-possession with which he 
said, as he sent his plate to Madame Cuvier, 
‘¢ Then I must eat more soup,” in order to quiet 
the alarm visible on the countenances of those 
present. M. Frédéric, the younger, sought me- 
dical advice; and an application of leeches was 
made during the night, without producing any 
amelioration. The next day (Thursday) both 
arms were seized, and the paralysis of the pha- 
rynx was complete. He was then bled, but 
without any benefit, and from that moment he 


BARON CUVIER. 321 


seemed to be perfectly aware of what was to 
follow. He, with the most perfect calmness, 
ordered his will to be made; and in it evinced 
the tenderest solicitude for those whose cares 
and affection had embellished his life, and for 
those who had most aided him in his scientific 
labours. He could not sign it himself, but four 
witnesses attested the deed. He sent for that 
good M. Royer, who was so soon to follow him, 
to make a statement of the sums he had ex- 
pended, out of his private fortune, on the alter- 
ations of the rooms behind his house, though the 
affliction of this Chef du Bureau d’ Administration 
was so heavy as almost to disable him from doing 
his duty. M. Cuvier alone was tranquil; and, 
perfectly convinced that all human resource was 
vain, he yet, for the sake of the beloved objects 
who encircled him, submitted without impa- 
tience to every remedy that was suggested. The 
malady augmented during the night, and the 
most celebrated medical practitioners were called 
in: emetics were administered by means of a 
tube, but, like all other endeavours, they did not 
cause the least alteration. Friday was passed in 
various, but hopeless, attempts to mitigate the 
evil; and perhaps, they only increased the 
suffering of the patient. In the evening the pa- 
mn 


322 MEMOIRS OF 


ralysis attacked the legs; the night was restless 
and painful; the speech became affected, though 
it was perfectly to be understood. He pointed 
out the seat of his disorder, observing to those 
who could comprehend him, ‘Ce sont les nerfs 


’ alluding to 


de la volonté qui sont malades* ;’ 
the late beautiful discoveries of Sir Charles Bell 
and Scarpa, on the double system of spinal 
nervest: he clearly and precisely indicated the 
changes of position which the parts of the limbs 
yet unparalysed rendered desirable ; and he was 
moved from his own simple and comparatively 
small bed-room, into that saloon where he had 
been the life and soul of the learned world; and, 
though his speech was less fluent, he conversed 
with his physicians, his family, and the friends 
who aided them in their agonising cares. Among 
other anxious enquirers came M. Pasquier, whom 
he had seen on the memorable Tuesday; and he 
said to him, “ Behold a very different person 
to the man of ‘Tuesday—of Saturday. Never- 
theless, I had great things still to do. All was 
ready in my head; after thirty years of labour 


* « The nerves of the will are sick.” 

* A month before his illness, he had read a paper at the 
Institute upon a memoir of Scarpa’s, on this distinction be- 
tween the nerves of will, and those of sensibility. 


BARON CUVIER. 325 


and research ; there remained but to write; and 
now the hands fail, and carry with them the 
head.” M. Pasquier, almost too much distressed 
to speak, attempted to express the interest uni- 
versally felt for him; to which M. Cuvier replied, 
“TI like to think so; I have long laboured to 
render myself worthy of it.’ In the evening, 
fever showed itself and continued all night, 
which produced great restlessness and desire for 
change of posture; the bronchiz then became 
affected, and it was feared that the lungs would 
soon follow. On Sunday morning the fever dis- 
appeared for a short time; consequently he slept; 
but said, on waking, that his dreams had been 
incoherent and agitated, and that he felt his 
head would soon be disordered. At two o’clock 
in the day, the accelerated respiration proved 
that only a part of the lungs was in action; and 
the physicians, willing to try every thing, pro- 
posed to cauterise the vertebra of the neck: the 
question, Had he right to die? rendered him 
obedient to their wishes; but he was spared this 
bodily torture, and leeches and cupping were all 
to which they had recourse. During the appli- 
cation of the former, M. Cuvier observed, with 


the greatest simplicity, that it was he who had 
8 ane? 


324 MEMOIRS OF 


discovered that leeches possess red blood, allud- 
ing to one of his Memoirs, written in Normandy. 
‘‘’'The consummate master spoke of science for 
the last time, by recalling one of the first steps 
of the young naturalist.”” He had predicted 
that the last cupping would hasten his depart- 
ure; and, when raised from the posture neces- 
sary for this operation, he asked for a glass of 
lemonade, with which to moisten his mouth. 
After this attempt at refreshment, he gave the 
rest to his daughter-in-law to drink, saying, it 
was very delightful to see those he loved still 
able to swallow. His respiration became more 
and more rapid; he raised his head, and then 
letting it fall, as if in meditation, he resigned 
his great soul to its Creator without a struggle. 
Those who entered afterwards, would have 
thought that the beautiful old man, seated in 
the arm-chair, by the fireplace, was asleep ; and 
would have walked softly across the room for 
fear of disturbing him; so little did that calm 
and noble countenance, that peaceful and bene- 
volent mouth, indicate that death had laid his 
icy hand upon them: but they had only to turn 
to the despairing looks, the heart-rending grief, 
or the mute anguish of those around, to be con- 


BARON CUVIER. 325 


vinced that all human efforts are unavailing, 
when Heaven recalls its own.* 

The perfect disinterestedness of M. Cuvier’s 
character, the remarkable liberality of his dispo- 
sition, the sums he so delightedly bestowed on 
science, in a dearth of other proofs, would all be 
established by the moderate fortune he left to 
his family. After having filled such high offices 
in the state; after having executed, under the 
magnificent government of the empire, missions 
which a man thirsting after wealth would have 
turned to his pecuniary advantage; all the for- 
tune he amassed amounted but to four thousand 
pounds sterling; his library had cost him a 
similar sum +; and he never hesitated procuring 


* Germany lost her great Goethe in this year. France, 
besides the above calamitous privation, was bereaved of Cham- 
pollion, Casimir Perrier, and Abel Remusat; and Great Britain, 
of Sir Walter Scott and Sir John Leslie: the preceding year 
had been fer greatest trial; for in it she was deprived of 
Sir Humphry Davy, Dr. Young, and Dr. Wollaston, &c. 

+ To the books purchased by himself were added those 
published at the expense of the Government, copies of which 
were always presented to him ; and the numerous gifts he re- 
ceived from authors of all countries, who were universally 
anxious to pay him this mark of respect, even if their works 
did not treat of Natural History. Altogether amounted to 
more than nineteen thousand volumes, besides pamphlets, 
atlases, &c., and many of which contained his own notes. It 
was very desirable that this library should remain entire, for 


yvie3 


326 MEMOIRS OF 


any object of natural history at his own expense, 
original cost and freight included, from every 
quarter of the globe; not for himself, but to 
present it to the Museum: and if to these be 
added his hospitality, and his generous assist- 


the use of students ; and such being Madame Cuvier’s wish, 
the legatees, consisting of M. F. Cuvier, his son, M. Valen- 
ciennes, and M. Laurillard, accepted the value of their por- 
tions as mere books, and the Government agreed to purchase 
the whole. The sum was voted at the same time as Madame 
Cuvier’s pension; and much is it to be regretted that the 
value of books has of late years so much diminished in France : 
however, it is much more vexatious, that no building can be 
found to contain this collection, where it might be consulted 
in its entire state by the public ; and it is therefore to be di- 
vided between the Schools of Law and Medicine, the Normal 
School, and the Jardin des Plantes, where many volumes 
will enter as duplicates. The apartments in which these 
treasures were contained, were a continuation of M. Cuvier’s 
own dwelling, and had been originally used for the forage of 
the menagerie. On this being removed to the building called 
the Rotonde, Baron Cuvier asked permission of the Board of 
Administration of the Jardin, to take these granaries into his 
own hands, and convert them, at his own expense, into a 
suite of rooms. This cost him 1640/.,which gave him a right 
to ask for a dwelling for his family after his death ; a right 
which was graciously confirmed by his present Majesty. In 
these rooms the great savant carried on his vast labours and 
meditations, working in each according to the subject on 
which he was employed: they made his house appear large ; 
but, in reality, the habitable part of it was scarcely of sufficient 
extent for his comfort, when it is considered how many 
visitors he was there obliged, by his places, to entertain. 


BARON CUVIER. 327 


ance to others, the small amount of the property 
he left behind him may be easily accounted for. 
He desired to be buried without ceremony, in 
the cemetery of Pere la Chaise, under the tomb- 
stone which covered his daughter; but it was 
not possible for such a man to die without much 
public manifestation of respect at the last sad 
ceremony. ‘The funeral procession was followed 
by a deputation from the Council of State, pre- 
sided by the Keeper of the Seals; also from the 
Academies of Sciences, of Inscriptions, of Medi- 
cine, of France; by members of the two Cham- 
bers, the Ecole Polytechnique, &c. The earthly 
remains were alternately borne by pupils from 
the laboratories of the Jardin des Plantes, from 
the Schools d’Urfort, of Law, and of Medicine, 
and first taken to the Protestant Church in the 
Rue des Billettes. The pall was supported by 
M. Pasquier, president of the Chamber of Peers ; 
M. Devaux, counsellor of state; M. Arago, se- 
cretary of the Academy of Natural Sciences ; 
and M. Villemain, vice-president of the Royal 
Council of Public Instruction. Different mem- 
bers of the learned and legislative bodies, each 
pronounced a funeral discourse over the grave, 
according to the usual custom of the country. 
A monumental statue is to be erected in the 
Weed: 


825 MEMOIRS OF 


Jardin des Plantes, another at Montbéliard, the 
size and materials of which depend on the 
amount of the subscriptions. The King has 
also ordered a marble bust, by M. Pradhier, to 
be placed in the Institute; and another to be 
placed in the Galleries of Anatomy, by M. David. 
M. Cuvier is succeeded by Baron Dupin (the 
elder) at the Académie Frangaise, and by Dr. 
Dulong * at the Académie des Sciences. M. de 
Blainville is appointed professor of comparative 
anatomy at the Jardin des Plantes. Many of 
his places remain unfilled, as if those, who would 
otherwise be candidates, were afraid of the con- 
test. This one man held them all; rigidly per- 
formed all their duties; carried his benevolent 
and enlightened principles with him into all his 
employments; scorned no detail which could 
bear upon their improvement; saw, in one 
glance, the influence which their progress would 
have over society at large; and yet, while his 
mind was filled with these great and general 
views, never, for one instant, forgot that which 
belonged to his character as a father, a husband, 
a brother, and a friend; or that he had fellow 
creatures who needed his assistance. His public 


* Since writing the above, M. Dulong has resigned his 
secretaryship, on account of his health. 


BARON CUVIER. 329 


employments are now separated; and the occu- 
piers may think themselves happy, if they can, 
in their solitary succession, in some degree at- 
tain the perfection which stamped his combined 
career. The death of such a man, at such a period 
of his labours, and at such a moment, scarcely 
seems to come within the common routine of 
mortality, but to have been the result of a spe- 
cial and chastening mandate from Heaven. 


330 


CHRONOLOGICAL LIST 


OF 


a. HE BRENIG P Ad sky EN TS 


Ae D. 


1769. 
1779. 
1784. 


OF 


THE BARON CUVIER’S LIFE. 


(August 23.) Born. 

Entered the Gymnase of Montbéliard. 
(May 4.) Entered the Académie Caroline, in the Uni- 
versity of Stuttgardt. 

Left Stuttgardt to return to Montbéliard. 

Entered as tutor into the family of Count d’Hericy, 
in Normandy. 


Death of M. Cuvier’s mother. 


. (Spring.) Came to Paris. 


Appointed Membre de la Commission des Arts. 
Appointed Professor at the Central School of the 
Panthéon. 

(July.) Made assistant to M. Mertrud, and entered 
the Jardin des Plantes ; sent for his father and brother ; 
commenced the Gallerie d’Anatomie comparée. 
(December.) Opened his first course of lectures, at 
the Jardin des Plantes, on Comparative Anatomy. 


331 


CHRONOLOGICAL LIST 


OF 


HE PUBLISH ED WwW ORAS 
OF 


THE BARON CUVIER. 


1792. Mémoire sur l’Anatomie de la Patelle. 


1795. Mémoire sur le Larynx inférieur des Oiseaux. (Ma- 


gasin Encyclopédique.) 


Mémoire sur l’Anatomie du grand Limacgon. (Helix 


Pomatia Lin.) 


Notice ou Mémoire sur la Circulation dans les Ani- 


maux a sang blanc. 


Mémoire sur une nouvelle Division des Mammiféres. 


(Magasin Encyclopédique.) 


Mémoire sur une nouvelle Distribution, en six Classes, 


des Animaux a sang blanc. 


Mémoire sur la Structure des Mollusques, et de leur 


Division en Ordres. 


332 CHRONOLOGICAL LIST OF EVENTS. 


APD: 
1796. Made a Member of the National Institute. 


1798. Proposal made to M. Cuvier, by Count Berthollet, to 
accompany the expedition to Egypt; which offer was 
refused. 


A. D. 
1796. 


1797. 


1798. 


CHRONOLOGICAL LIST OF WORKS. 333 


Mémoire sur le Squelette d’une trés grande Espéce 
de Quadrupéde inconnue (Megalonix). 

Mémoire sur les Tétes d’Ours Fossiles, des Cavernes 
de Gailenreuth. 

Mémoire sur un Squelette Fossile (Megatherium) 
trouvé sur les Bords du Rio de la Plata. 

Mémoire sur l’Organe de |’Oitie dans les Cetacés. 

Mémoire sur un nouveau Genre de Mollusque 

(Phyllidia). 

Mémoire sur l’Animal des Lingules. 

Note sur l’Anatomie des Ascidies. 

Note sur les différentes Especes de Rhinoceros. 

Note sur les Narines des Cetacés. 

Note sur les Rates du Marsouin. 

Note sur une nouvelle Espéce de Guépe Cartonniére 

Elogé Historique de Riche. 

Mémoire sur la maniére dont se fait la Nutrition dans 
les Insectes. 

Tableau Elémentaire de |’Histoire Naturelle des Ani- 
maux. 

Mémoire sur les Organes de la Voix dans les Oiseaux. 

Mémoire sur les Ossemens Fossiles des Quadrupédes. 
Ici sont indiqués l’Elephant, le Mastodonte d’ Amerique 
et d'Europe, l’Hippopotame, le Rhinoceros 4 crane al- 
longé, le Tapir gigantesque, le Megatherium, 1’Ours 
des Cavernes, un Animal carnassier de Montmartre 
(reconnu plus tard pour étre un Pachyderma), l’Animal 
de Monti, que M. Cuvier croyait un Mastodonte, 
l’Elan d’Islande, qu’il croyait alors, sur les rapports de 
Faujas, exister 4 Maestricht, deux Espéces de Beeufs 
de Sibérie, deux Cerfs des Tourbiéres de la Somme. 

Mémoire sur les Vaisseaux sanguins des Sangsues, 
et sur la couleur rouge du Fluide qu’y est contenu. 
(Celle-ci est la découverte sur laquelle repose l’étab- 
lissement de la classe des Vers a sang rouge.) 

Mémoire sur les Ossemens qui se trouvent dans les 


334 CHRONOLOGICAL LIST OF EVENTS. 


A. D. 


1800. Appointed Professor at the Collége de France, on 
which M. Cuvier resigned the chair at the Central 
School of the Panthéon. 

Elected Secretary to the Class of Physical and Ma- 
thematical Sciences of the Institute. 


1802. Named one of the six Inspector-Generals of Educa- 
cation (Etudes). 


CHRONOLOGICAL LIST OF WORKS. 30: 


AuD. 
Gypses de Montmartre. (Ici M. Cuvier rectifie son 
Mémoire précédent, et annonce avoir reconnu trois 
espéces distinctes de Pachydermes. ) 

1799. Notice Biographique sur Bruguiéres. 

Mémoire sur les Différences des Cerveaux, con- 
siderés dans tous les Animaux a Sang rouge. 

Mémoire sur l’Organisation de quelques Meduses 
(Rhyzostome bleu). 

1800. Mémoire sur les Tapirs Fossiles de France. 

Mémoire sur le Siren Lacertina. 

Mémoire sur un nouveau Genre des Quadrupédes 
édentés, nommés Ornithorynchus paradoxus, décrit par 
Blumenbach (extrait par M. Cuvier). 

Mémoire sur I'Ibis des anciens Egyptiens. 

Mémoire sur les Ornitholithes de Montmartre. 

Addition a l’Article des Quadrupédes Fossiles, oi est 
indiqué |’Anoplotherium, et une Espece du méme 
Genre, de la taille d'un Hérisson. 

Mémoire sur une nouvelle Espéce de Quadrupéde 
Fossile, du Genre de l Hippopotame. 

Tomes I. et II. des Lecons de l’Anatomie comparée. 

Eloge Historique de Daubenton. 

Eloge Historique de Lemonnier. 

1801. Mémoire sur une nouvelle Espéce de Crocodile Fos- 
sile, des Environs de Honfleur. 

Note sur des nouvelles découvertes d’Os Fossiles. 
(Il s’agit des Crocodiles de Honfleur, d’Altorf en Fran- 
conie, de Provins, Département de lOrme.) Ici 
M. Cuvier annonce le découverte d’un septiéme ani- 
mal dans le gypse de Montmartre, un Carnassier 
(Canis). 

Mémoire sur les Dents des Poissons. 

Eloge Historique de I’ Héritier. 

Eloge Historique de Gilbert. 

1802. M. Cuvier commenca les Analyses des Travaux de 
l'Institut, qui étaient continués jusqu’a sa mort. 


336 CHRONOLOGICAL LIST OF EVENTS. 


A.D. 
1802. Went to Marseilles, &c. to found the Royal Colleges. 


1803. Made perpetual Secretary to the Class of Physical 
and Mathematical Sciences of the Institute. 
Resigned Inspector-generalship of Education. 
Married to Madame Duvaucel. 


A. D. 


¢ 


CHRONOLOGICAL LIST OF WORKS. 337 


1802. Mémoire sur |’Animal de Lingule, I’ Animal de Bulleea 


aperta, et celui de Clio Borealis. 

Mémoire sur le Genre Tritonia, avec la Description 
d'une Espéce nouvelle. 

Eloge Historique de Jean Darcet. 

Extrait dun Mémoire sur les Vers qui ont le sang 
rouge. Ici M. Cuvier annonce, que la plupart des 
Vers marins ont le sang rouge, ainsi que les Lombrics ; 
et donne la description du systéme circulatoire dans 
l Arénicole, ou Lombric Marin. 

Extrait dela Description de |’ Anatomie de l’Ornitho- 
rynchus p. par Home. 

Mémoire sur les Serpules. 

Articles Abdomen, Absorption, Accouplement, Acé- 
phales, Actinie, pour la Dictionnaire des Sciences Natu- 
relles. 


1803. Mémoire sur le Genre Aplysia. 


Mémoire sur les Ecrevisses connues des Anciéns, &c. 

Notice sur l’Etablissement de la Collection d’Ana- 
tomie comparée du Museum. 

Description Ostéologique du Rhinoceros Unicorne. 

Description Ostéologique du Tapir. 

Description Ostéologique du Daman. 

Mémoire sur les Espéces des Animaux dont proviennent 
les Os Fossiles répandus dans la Pierre a Platre des 
Environs de Paris. 

Premier Mémoire — Restitution de la Téte. 

Second Mémoire — Examen des Dents. 

Troisiéme Mémoire — Restitution des Pieds. 

Mémoire sur les Os Fossiles des Environs de Paris. 

Article Historique sur les Collections de l’Histoire 
Naturelle. 

Note sur l’Anatomie de quelques Aplysies, observés 
pendant un séjour a Marseille. 

Mémoire sur la Pennatula Cynomorium, et sur les 
Coraux en general, montre que la Pennatula 


Z 


a v] 
j 
~s aha! 
« 


338 CHRONOLOGICAL LIST OF EVENT 


A.D. 


1804. Eldest son born, and died. 


CHRONOLOGICAL LIST OF WORKS. 3839 


AD: 
Cyn. est composée des plusieurs Animaux, avec une 


seule volonté, ce qu’on déduit de leurs mouvemens, 
quil y a unité de nutrition, et qu’on peut la regarder 
comme un seul animal a plusieurs bouches. M. Cu- 
vier étend la méme conclusion aux Zoophytes fixés, 
quoiquiils différent essentiellement par Vabsence du 
mouvement. 

1804. Article Bec, pour la Dictionnaire des Sciences Natu- 
relles. 

Recherches d’ Anatomie comparée sur les Dents. 

Notice sur un Squelette Fossile, trouvé a Pantin, 
dans le Gypse (Paleotherium minus). 

Mémoire sur l’Hyale, sur un nouveau Genre des Mol- 
lusques nus, intermédiaire entre l’Hyale et le Clio, et 
Vétablissement d’un nouvel Ordre dans la Classe des 
Mollusques. 

Mémoire sur l Hippopotame et son Ostéologie. 

Mémoire sur les Thalides, et sur les Biphores. 

Mémoire sur le Genre Doris. 

1805. Articles Boeuf, Bois, Branchie, pour la Dictionnaire 
des Sciences Naturelles. 

Trois derniers Volumes des Lecons de |’ Anatomie 
comparée. 

Eloge Historique de Priestley. 

Mémoire sur les Animaux auxquels appartenaient 
les Pierres dites Nummulaires, ou Lenticulaires, et sur 
ceux du Corne d’Ammon. (M. Cuvier attribue les 
Nummulaires concentriques a des osselets intérieurs 
d'un Zoophyte, voisin des Porpitese) 

Extraits des Mémoires sur le Clio Borealis, I’ Hyale, 
le Pneumoderme. 

Suite des Mémoires sur les Tritonia, Doris, Aplysia, 
Onchidium, Bulla. 

Suite des Mémoires précédents. 

Suite des Mémoires sur la Phyllidia et le Pleuro- 
branchus. 


ie Od 


” 


ade a 7 
CHRONOLOGICAL er OF EVENTS. 


A.D. 


1806. 


1807. 


CHRONOLOGICAL LIST OF WORKS. 841 


Eloge Historique de Cels. 

Mémoire sur les Os Fossiles trouvés en divers en- 
droits de la France, et plus ou moins semblables 4 ceux 
du Paleotherium. 

Mémoire sur la Scyllée, ’Eolide, et le Glaucus, avec 
des Additions au Mémoire sur la Tritonia. 

Mémoire sur l’Onchidium Peronii. 

Additions a |’ Article sur les Ossemens Fossiles des 
Tapirs. 

Additions a l’Article sur ? Hippopotame. 

Mémoire sur les Ossemens Fossiles d’Hippopotame. 
Mémoire sur la Phyllidie et sur le Pleurobranche. 
Mémoire sur le Sarigue Fossile des Gypses de Paris. 
Mémoire sur le Megalonyx. 

Mémoire sur le Megatherium. 

Mémoire sur la Dolabelle. 

Mémoire sur les Rhinoceros Fossiles. 

Mémoire sur le Limacon et le Colimacon. 

Mémoire sur les Ours des Cavernes d’ Allemagne. 

Eloge Historique de Michel Adanson. 

Mémoire sur les Elephans vivans et Fossiles. 

Mémoire sur le Grand Mastodonte. 

Mémoire sur les autres Espéces de Mastodonte. 

Resumé général de |'Histoire des Ossemens Fossiles, 
de Pachydermes, des Terreins Meubles et d’Alluvion. 

Mémoire sur les Ossemens Fossiles des Environs de 
Paris. Les Phalanges. 

Mémoire sur les Os des Extrémités. 

Mémoire sur les Os longs des Extrémités. 

Mémoire sur les Extrémités antérieures. 

Mémoire sur Jes Omoplates et les Bassins. 

Description de deux Squelettes presque entiers de 
Y Anoplotherium commun. 

Mémoire sur les Ornitholithes de la Pierre & Platre 
de Paris. 

Mémoire sur Jes Carnassiers (autres que l’Ours) des 
Cavernes. 


7S 


342 CHRONOLOGICAL LIST OF EVENTS. 


1808. Appointed Counsellor to the University. 


1809. } Charged with the organisation of the Academies of 
1810. the Italian States. 


A.D. 
1807. 


1808. 


1809. 


CHRONOLOGICAL LIST OF WORKS. 343 


Mémoire sur les différentes Espéces de Crocodiles 
vivans. 

Mémoire sur quelques Ossemens de Carnassiers dans 
les Carriéres a Platre de Paris. 

Rapport a la Classe des Sciences Physiques et Mathé- 
matiques de l'Institut, sur V’Ecrit de M. Adams sur 
l'Elephant Fossile. 

Rapport sur un Mémoire de M. Decandolle, intitulé 
“ Tableau de la Nutrition de Végetaux.” 

Rapport sur un ouvrage manuscrit de M. André, 
ci-devant connu sous le Nom de Pére Chrysologue de 
Gy, lequel ouvrage (sur la Géologie) est intitulé 
«“ Théorie de la Surface actuelle de la Terre.” 

Rapport Historique sur les Progrés des Sciences 
Naturelles, depuis 1789, &c. 

Eloge Historique de Broussonnet. 

Mémoire sur l’Ianthine et la Phasianelle. 

Mémoire sur |’ Helix vivipara. 

Rapport sur un Mémoire de MM. Gall et Spurz- 
heim. 

Mémoire sur le Buccinum undatum. 

Essai sur la Géographie Minéralogique des Environs 
de Paris (avec M. Brongniart). 

Observations sur les Ossemens Fossiles des Croco- 
diles, sur ceux des Environs de Honfleur, du Havre, et 
de Thuringie. 

Observations sur le grand Animal Fossile de Maes- 
tricht. 

Mémoire sur le Genre Thétys. 

Suite des Recherches sur les Ossemens Fossiles des 
Environs de Paris. 

Mémoire sur les Os des Ruminans des Terreins 
Meubles. 

Mémoire sur les Bréches Osseuses de Gibraltar. 

Mémoire sur l’Ostéologie du Lamantin et du Du- 


gong. 


N 
— 


344 CHRONOLOGICAL LIST OF EVENTS, 


1811. Charged with the organisation of the Academies of 
Holland. 
Received the title of Chevalier. 


1812. Death of Mademoiselle Anne Cuvier. 


1813. Death of George Cuvier, jun. 

M. Cuvier sent to Rome, to organise the University 
there. 

Named Maitre des Requétes. 

Ordered to make a list of books for the King of 
Rome, with an intention that M. Cuvier should super- 
intend his education. 

Made Commissaire Impériale Extraordinaire, and 


A.D. 


1809. 


1810. 


1811. 


1812. 


1813. 


CHRONOLOGICAL LIST OF WORKS. 345 


Mémoire sur quelques Quadrupédes Fossiles des 
Schistes Calcaires. 

Mémoire sur les Ossemens Fossiles des Chevaux et 
des Sangliers. 

Supplément au Mémoire sur les Ornitholithes de 
Paris. 

Mémoire sur les Rongeurs Fossiles des Tourbiéres, et 
sur quelques autres Rongeurs, renfermés dans les 
Schistes. 

Mémoire sur les Espéces vivantes des grands Chats. 

Rapport sur le Mémoire de Delaroche, sur la Vessie 
Aérienne des Poissons. 

Mémoire sur les Ossemens Fossiles des Tortues. 

Mémoire sur les Acéres. 

Mémoire sur les Reptiles et les Poissons des Gypses 
de Paris. 

Eloges Historiques de Bonnet et de De Saussure. , 

Recherches sur les Ossemens Fossiles (grand ouvrage 
en quatre volumes in 4to. ). 

Eloge Historique de Fourcroy. 

Rapport sur un Mémoire de M. Jacobson, intitulé 
“ Description Anatomique des Organes observés dans 
les Mammiferes.” 

Article Animal, pour la Dictionnaire des Sciences 
Médicales. 

Eloge Historique de Dessesserts. 

Eloge Historique de Cavendish. 

Articles Azygos, Caverneux, pour la Dictionnaire des 
Sciences Naturelles. 

Rapport sur des Cetacés echoués sur les Cotes de 
France, le 7 Janvier, 1812. 

Mémoire sur un nouveau Rapprochement a établir 
entre les Classes qui composent le Régne Animal. 

Mémoire sur la Composition de la Téte Osseuse dans 
les Animaux Vertebrés. 

Eloge Historique de Pallas. 


3:46 CHRONOLOGICAL LIST OF EVENTS. 


An Ds 
sent to the left bank of the Rhine, in order to take the 
steps necessary for opposing the invasion of France. 


1814. Named Counsellor of State by Napoleon. 

Named Counsellor of State by Louis XVIII. 
(September.) First officiated as Commissaire du Roi, 
to which he was repeatedly called at various periods of 
his life. 

Named Chancellor of the University. 

1815. Procured ameliorations of the Criminal Laws, and in 
the Prévotal Courts. 


CHRONOLOGICAL LIST OF WORKS. 347 


A.D. 
1813. Mémoire sur le Lophote Giorna. 
Article Dent, pour la Dictionnaire des Sciences 
Médicales. 


1815. Eloges Historiques de Parmentier, et du Comte de 
Rumford. 
Mémoire sur I’ Aigle au Maigre. 
Mémoire sur la Composition dela Machoire inférieure 
des Poissons. 
Observations et Recherches Critiques sur les Poissons 
de la Mediterranée. 
Suite du méme. 
Suite du meme. 
Suite du méme. 
Mémoire sur les Ascidies. 
Mémoire sur les Anatifes et Balanes. 
Rapport sur deux Mémoires de M. Savigny, intitulés 
“‘ Observations sur les Alcyons, (a la suite des Mé- 
moires sur les Animaux sans Vertébres de Savigny, 2me 
partie, page 67.). 
1816. Réflexions sur la Marche actuelle des Sciences, &c. 
Eloge Historique d’Olivier. 
1817. Eloge Historique de Tenon. 
Articles Cartilage, Cerveau, pour la Dictionnaire des 
Sciences Naturelles. 
Seconde Edition des Recherches sur les Ossemens 
Fossiles, en cing volumes in 4to. 
Le Régne Animal, en quatre volumes in 8vo. 
Rapport sur un Mémoire de M. Dutrochet, intitulé 
“¢ Recherches sur les Enveloppes du Foetus.” 
Mémoire sur les GEufs des Quadrupédes. 
Mémoire sur la Venus Hottentote. 


348 CHRONOLOGICAL LIST OF EVENTS. 
Ae Ds 


1818. Offered the Ministry of the Interior; which offer was 
refused. 
First journey to England. 
Elected Member of the Académie Francaise. 


1819. (September 13.) Named temporary Grand Master to 
the University. 
Appointed President of the Comité de l’Intérieur. 
Created a Baron. 

1820. (December 21.) Resigned Grand Mastership. 


1821. (July 31.) Appointed temporary Grand Master to the 
University. 


1822. (June 1.) Resigned Grand Mastership. 
Made Grand Master of the Faculties of Protestant 
Theology. 


1824. Officiated as one of the Presidents of the Council of 
State, at the coronation of Charles X. 
Made Grand Officier de Ja Légion d’Honneur. 
Made Commander of the Order of the Crown, by the 
King of Wurtemburg. 


CHRONOLOGICAL LIST OF WORKS. 349 


ALD. 
1818. Article Hymen, pour la Dictionnaire des Sciences 
Médicales. 
Eloge Historique de Werner. 
Eloge Historique de Desmarets. 
Mémoire sur le Genre Chironectes. 
Mémoire sur les Diodons. 
Mémoire sur le Genre Myletus. 
Discours surla Réception de M. Cuvier al’ Académie 
Francaise. 
1819. Mémoire sur les Poissons du Genre Hydrocyn. 


1820. Eloge Historique de M. de Beauvois. 
Mémoire sur le Meleagris Ocellata. 

1821. Rapport sur une Mémoire de M. Audouin, intitulé 
“ Recherches Anatomiques sur le Thorax des Animaux 
Articulés, et celui des Insectes en particulier. (An- 
nales des Sciences Physiques de Bruxelles, vii. Jour- 
nal de Physiologie Expérimentale, i.) 

Eloge Historique de Sir Joseph Banks. 

1822. Rapport sur un Mémoire de M. Flourens, sur le Sys- 

téme Nerveux. 
loge Historique de M. Duhamel. 
Discours Funébre de M. Vanspaendonck. 
Discours Funébre de M. Délambre. 

1823. Eloge Historique de Haiiy. 

1824. Mémoire sur une altération singuliére de quelques 
Tétes Humaines. 

Mémoire sur le Bradypus tridactylus. 

Rapport sur l’Etat de l’Histoire Naturelle, et sur ses 
accroissemens. 

Eloge Historique du Comte Berthollet. 

Eloge Historique de Richard. 

1825. Article Nature, pour la Dictionnaire des Sciences 
Naturelles. 

Seconde Edition du Discours Préliminaire des Re- 


350 CHRONOLOGICAL LIST OF EVENTS. 


A.D. 


1827. (June 14.) Appointed Censor of the Press; which 
appointment was instantly refused. 
Charged with the government of all the non-Catholic 
religions. 
1828. (September 28.) Death of Mademoiselle Clementine 
Cuvier. 


1830. Resumed lectures at the Collége de France. 
Paid a second visit to England. 


1832. Created a Peer. 
(May.) Appointed President to the entire Council of 
State. 
(May 18.) Death. 


CHRONOLOGICAL LIST OF WORKS. 351 


cherches sur les Ossemens Fossiles, appellé “ Discours 
sur les Révolutions de la Surface du Globe,” in 8vo. 
1825. Discours sur la Distribution des Prix de Vertu. 
Eloge Historique de Thouin. 
1826. Eloge Historique du Comte de Lacépéde. 
Rapport sur les Principaux Changemens éprouvés 
par les Theories Chimiques. 
Edition in 4to. du “ Discours sur les Révolutions du 
Glebe.” 
1827. Eloges Historiques de MM. Hallé, Corvisart, et Pinel. 
Eloge Historique de M. Fabbroni. 
Mémoire sur le Canard Pie de la Nouvelle Hollande. 


1828. Volumes I. et IH. du grand Ouvrage sur l’Ichthy- 
ologie. 

Eloge Historique de Ramond. 

Caii Plinii Secundi, Libri de Animalibus, 

Notas et Excursus Zoologici Argumenti adjecit, G. Cu- 
vier (traduits en 1831). 

Rapport fait a l'Institut sur un Mémoire de M. 
Adolphe Brongniart, intitulé “ Considérations générales 
dela Nature de la Végétation qui couvrait la Surface de 
la Terre, aux divers périodes de la formation de son 
Ecorce.” 

1829. Seconde Edition du Régne Animal, en 5 tom. in 8vo. 

Volumes III. et IV. sur l’Ichthyologie. 

Eloge Historique de M. Bose. 

1830. Volumes V. et VI. sur I’Ichthyologie. 

Eloge Historique de Sir Humphry Davy. 

Eloge Historique de Vauquelin. 

1831. Volumes VII. et VIII. sur l’Ichthyologie. 
1832. Eloge Historique de Lamarck. 

Et en outre plusieurs Rapports sur les Collections 
rapportés par les Voyageurs, tels que les Collections de 
MM. Quoy et Gaimard, Lesson et Garrot, Dussumier, 
&e. &e. 


THE END. 


ERRATUM. 


Page 19. note, for ** Baron Pasquier” read “ The Baron de H ——.”’ 


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